Not So Blonde

Bonding over meatloaf

The kid hates meatloaf, I’m sure this doesn’t come as any surprise. What kid likes meatloaf? Well, okay, I’m sure there are 1 or 2 kids out there who looove meatloaf, but my kid is most definitely not one of them.

So I made meatloaf the other night. Not because I want to punish the kid, he was at his dad’s, but because I bought this enormous thing of ground beef at Safeway and had to use it for something.

Something that didn’t involve pasta since R always complains if we have too much pasta within one week. He says I’m going to force him into the Navy’s “Fat Boy” fitness program if I keep it up with the pasta.

And yeah, yeah… so they have wheat and low carb pasta, No Yolk pasta, etc. It doesn’t matter much to R, pasta is pasta in his book and he doesn’t want to see too much of it. Do you see what I go thru, internet? The rules, regulations, likes, dislikes of two growing (haha - just kidding, R!) boys?

Back to the meatloaf.

The kid had practice the night and he had left his basketball shoes at my house. I’m in the kitchen preparing dinner and R is on the couch watching Book TV, or Bloomberg, or the Military channel. If you think I’m joking every time I say these are the things R watches in rotation, come to my house and see for yourself. Bring Vodka.

The kid walks in and I immediately launch into a spiel on how sad it is that he’s going to miss meatloaf night.

“Ohhh… I can’t believe I’m making ALL this meatloaf and you won’t be here to enjoy it.”

“It’s just so sad! Tragic, even.”

“Oh to think all of this meatloaf and M won’t be able to have ANY of it!”

The kid is running around, putting on his shoes, throwing an eye roll here and there. You know - the teen thing. R is chuckling and probably taking notes on whatever boring show he’s watching.

I have a brainstorm complete with finger held aloft: “A-ha! I know what I’ll do!” I excitedly tell the kid when the meatloaf is done baking; I’ll drop some by his dad’s house so it will be ready for him when he gets home from practice.

The kid is about ready to dash out the door and he turns to me and says: “Mom. There are many disappoints in life and missing meatloaf tonight is going to have to be one of mine.”

That? Definitely MY son. My heart melted a little.

Happy weekend, everyone!!

P.S. Every time I come to my own blog today I keep reading the title as “Bending over meatloaf” - and that’s just so wrong, ya know? Can I go home now?

Care for some whine? How ’bout cheese?

I had every intention of posting something new every day this week. And it wasn’t that I had nothing to say, or I had blog block, or I couldn’t remember my own url.

(Although, I did just have to type it as it was no longer in the drop-down, and that really irritates me. Me thinks the kid and the R have been getting their surf on. Me thinks I shall make NSB the new homepage. *tap chin* Make it yours, too. Ha. Kidding. I don’t update enough. Yeah, that’s it.)

My reason for making myself scarce around these parts is really quite boring. I’ve just been so tired, yo. This has been one brutal week. I thought LAST week took the cake in “weeks I never want to relive again” but, no. This week. This week has all that cake.

So let’s see… what random things can I share… oh I don’t know… well? Okay.

- Brain is tired from training. So very tired. I come home, lay down, get up, make dinner, lay down… sleep. It has to get better, doesn’t it?

- The apartment looks like a Navy surplus store exploded within it. R’s probably going to be gone a while this time. Who knows, though, last time he left I bawled my eyes out and he was back 3 days later. R says I have “separation anxiety”. I say, “Stop leaving!”

- Sometimes I wonder how much family members and I have in common. There’s so many of us, we live apart, we don’t see each other as much as we should… then, my niece will tell me something like: “When I was giving birth to (name changed to: my favoritest nephew ever), mom just haaaad to turn on Rock of Love in my hospital room.” Then I think: That’s my sister!

- Who misses Rock of Love? I do. The reunion show, though? Eh. Ambre (it has to be a trashy reality TV requirement to spell your name a ridiculously stupid way) is just so not sexy to me. I look at her and it’s: blah. Blah blah bret bret blah I’m not wearing any undeZzzzzzzzzzzz…

- Real Housewives reunion show? Even worse. Holy snoozefest. Can it be anymore of a non-event to hear Alex posed nude? It’s like hearing my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Stevenson, appeared in Playboy. Actually, that’s an insult to Mrs. Stevenson. I’m sure her nude shots are way hotter than Alex’s.

- Did anyone catch Ray J on Chelsea Not-Her-Last-Name-Lately the other night? Did I know Ray J is so short? Does Ray J know? If Ray J doesn’t know, does his friend/back up singer/dancer/whatever know he’s vertically challenged as well? ‘Cause, you’d think if either of them were hip to this small *snicker* fact, they might pull their jeans up so more than 2 feet of jean is displayed per leg. I told R they looked like the Hip Hop Hobbits - he laughed. It feels good to make R laugh. Uh, when it’s not at me, that is.

- Upon R’s refusal to tell me 3 reasons he loved me (a leaving ritual that I ask, not that he answers) last night, I solemnly advised I’d be forced to give him the silent treatment. He laughed loudly, right at me.

- Sometimes, when I’m really tired, I snap at the teen. I feel like the worst mother ever when I do that but the kid… is tiring. Sigh. Was I this tiring, and trying when I was a teen? Ha. Haha!! Oh, good one, Mare! *slap knee*

- I had a coconut cupcake bought for me today that I was so prepared to love, til the longer I ate it, the more the frosting tasted like pure butter. It made me want to vomit a little. What a waste of a cupcake.

- I’m going to Portland this weekend and I’ve packed… nothing. It’s so stressful to fly now. What can I take, what can I not take… can I bring my bag on, do I check it? I can’t take it. Maybe I’ll just bring my purse and live on the edge, borrowing from everyone once I get there.

- Maybeeeeeeeeee not.

- I would tell you to expect lots of pictures but I broke my memory card and Lord knows if I’ll have the wherewithal to get a replacement before I leave or even during my trip. A weekend with family sounds like it will go by pretty darn fast.

- I have to go cook now. Say hellllloooooo to dinner…