Not Me Monday

OK I'll admit it, it's been a while since I have done a Not Me Monday. Not for lack of material, I assure you!

I did not feed the children an early dinner at 4:30 p.m. last week so we could go to the Y and swim. Even if I would have, I surely would have checked the schedules to ensure that the pool was actually open for swimming prior to loading up the entire crew and driving several miles, and going into the locker room and changing clothes and diapers. Of course we did not find out that the pool was, in fact, closed for swimming. We definitely did not then have to change ourselves and children out of their pool gear and deal with C's inevitable tantrum over not being able to swim.

Instead of heading home, my husband found a little gym for families with children under 12, filled with all sorts of balls and things. Never mind that we were in our street clothes because we hadn't exactly been planning on hanging out at the gym. I was definitely not shooting baskets in my Sketchers and my (slightly too-large) bell-bottom jeans. And when D challenged me to a one-on-one game, I did not agree to it. That would be irresponsible, not just because of my dress but because of the small children, hello!

Even if I would have agreed to play against him, I wouldn't have beat him. I mean really, he's 11! Who cares that he is the same size as me, beating him just wouldn't be right. I also did not get maybe a little overly zealous in our game, and trip over my jeans and fall, sliding several feet into a chair and the wall. The fall did not result in very large bruise on my knee, and I did not exclaim "I am WAY too old to be doing this right now!". 27 isn't THAT old...right?

This weekend when M arrived to stay the weekend with us, she wasn't crying. The other children weren't crying as either, due to the fact that I was moving the bassinet (which they aren't supposed to play with!) out of their reach. No one ever needs to cry at this house, because I am utterly perfect in my execution as a foster mother and care giver. Plus, my children understand and comply with the boundaries that I set. When they weren't crying, I did not respond by saying "You know what, guys? I don't think there are enough children crying in this house right now. Maybe you guys could work on crying louder!"

When I endeavored to make a second batch of home-made yogurt (the first one having been an utter failure), I was not in need of storage containers for said yogurt. We always have lots of little containers and things that would be suitable for such a thing as yogurt making. No, my fridge was not filled with left overs that had been forgotten about and needed to find their way to the trash.

In search of the storage containers, which I did not need, I found my grandmother's canning jars, and decide to use them. They were on the very, very, tip-top shelf of the storage room in the basement, and I could juuuust brush them with my finger tips when I stood on my tip toes. Rats, I needed some height! I looked, and looked, and looked, and could find nothing suitable to stand on. I could have gone upstairs to get the step stool but noooo, that would have been too easy. I saw my bike trainer (picture a triangle, point-side up)and decided that would be perfect! I stood at the top, precariously balanced, and reached the boxes of jars. Yay! When I went to step down, my rather too-long pants definitely did NOT wrap around the top of the trainer, resulting in a rather far and painful tumble on to the cement floor for me. No, I do not have TWO black and blue knees now. I am always very careful and never in a hurry. Never, never, never!

At least the yogurt-making endeavor was successful! :)


  1. YAY! I'm so glad your yogurt turned out. Did you end up using Jello?

  2. Being a foster mom isn't as hard as you thought it would be?


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