I'm not a very good housewife. I'd like to think I'm a pretty good stay-at-home mom, but I make a rather mediocre housewife.
I do try and have dinner cooking and near ready when my husband gets home most nights. But there are plenty of fend-for-your-self nights when we just have pizza rolls or cereal. And I do try and pick up my messes, but I'm not really big on cleaning. I hate it, actually. I do it because I hate to live in filth and squalor, but there are seasons where I'm on top of cleaning and seasons where it falls to the back burner. I get it done eventually, but only after it gets to a point where I can't take it any more.
So when the mood strikes, I have to run with it. Today it's struck. My house is nearly clean. (Can't vacuum till Caleb wakes up from his nap. Even then, it's tricky, since he's terrified of the vacuum still.) I'm working on the third and fourth load of laundry. And darnit if I don't want to do some more baking, but I'm out of flour. Perhaps a quick trip to Tesco is in order when Caleb wakes up. I found a recipe for sugar cookies that I really want to try.
I baked some cookies for my brother-in-law Eddie who is deployed down range this year. He's Army, so he's doing one of those hardcore 12-15 month deployments, which I'm sure feels like there's no end in sight. I have a box of cookies I'm going to mail out tomorrow, but I feel like there's a couple batches of baking still left in me, so he may get two boxes.
I'm not normally this Betty Crocker-ish. It's bizarre. I think it's my way of celebrating being between classes. I've ordered the text books for my next class, but since they aren't here yet I can't get ahead on my reading. I should work on these FEMA course I need to do that will count towards my internship, but I can't seem to find the "umph" in me to get started on that. Maybe tomorrow.
In other news, I got my car MOT'd. An MOT is a vehicle inspection you have to do here in England every year to make sure your car is road worthy. The inspection itself isn't all that expensive, but the repairs you might have to do to ensure that your car passes inspection can add up, especially when you have a 9 year old car.
We spent and arm and leg this year making sure my car passed. That didn't even fix my drivers side window that makes horrible, gut-wrentching sounds every time I try to roll it down. (Why would you roll your car window down in the winter? you ask. Because every time I go on base, I have to hand the guard my ID card. Right now I only roll it down a few inches because I'm terrified it won't come back up one of these days.) Tommy's car is at the shop now getting MOT'd, because both of ours come up right around the same time. Joy.
Ugh. I hate cars. Why don't my feet have built-in-wheels and motors to get me around?
Okay, I better get back to finishing up the house before Caleb wakes up.