Specific Instructions

This week has been one where I discovered that in fact my children cannot read my mind, and when I say something (or don't say something that is obvious to me), I will reap the rewards of my lack of proper communication.

Example 1: Benji has started toilet training. But if I do not say to him the right words, the bathroom is sprayed with urine. Yeah. 'Nuff said.

Example 2: On Wednesdays I am gone in the afternoon from 3:30 to 6:30, when I take Peter into Salt Lake for Salt Lake Children's Choir rehearsals. I usually have something already to put in the oven or cooking in the crockpot on these days. Last week I made up a recipe for a breakfast casserole, with a hashbrown base and and egg, cream and cheese mixture poured on top. I left it on the oven, covered in Saran Wrap, and told specific instructions to Sarah on when to put it in the oven, how long to cook it, etc. It was a busy evening, as we were going to attend the wedding reception of my niece, Kacey, and there would be little time to do anything else but stuff down a few bites before running out the door.

When I came home, everyone told me how yummy dinner was, and that saving any for Peter and me was difficult. I ate quickly, thinking that it was odd that it hadn't browned after an hour in the oven, and that the liquid must have over flowed it a bit, because there was a slight film around the edge of the pan.

Eventually I got around to cleaning it, and realized that the egg film was NOT egg, as I had supposed, but Saran Wrap, melted, and eaten, by my entire family, myself included.

It had never occurred to me that I had to specify removing the plastic wrap to my daughter. But I have learned my lesson. If I want something done a specific way, I have to say things like "Please point it into the toilet," or "Remove plastic wrap before putting it in the oven."

Just thought I'd give you all the benefit of my experience so this doesn't happen to you.

November Heebee Geebees

November has always been a fun month for me. I enjoy the anticipation of Christmas, and the yummy food of Thanksgiving.

This year, however, I am adding a big 'ol stress to that...NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. The challenge? Write 50,000 words in one month, or the length of a full novel.

Never done that before. Ever. But need to desperately, if just to prove to myself that I can.

I almost didn't even start, just so I wouldn't be disappointed in myself half way through the month. But what is life, if not a series of attempts and failures along our quest for perfection?

It's still giving me the heebee geebees, though. I'm terrified!