So how's your summer vacation going?

As John is pushing my buttons and I try to create order in the house I keep reminding myself it is so great to be finally done with school and have some freedom from the schedule that rules my life. I have a whole list of things I want to do. Finishing sewing projects, organizing, digging out a path from our pergola to the gate, building a headboard for my bed (out of recycled kitchen cabinet doors!) And books! So many books, so little time! I've also been I've been scouring the internet for things to do with the kids in our area. We are going to be visiting some local museums (Pioneer, Hutchings, etc) and I am hosting a three day art class for the kids in the neighborhood. Mostly Rebecca's friends.

We are currently overhauling our transmission to the tune of over three grand. So that means Peter has to work a lot and I get to figure out what to do with the kids all day.
Summer vacation = thumbs down. Cheap/free/local entertainment = thumbs up.
But right now I just want my van back. Apparently Honda sent the wrong drum 3x before they finally got it right. It has been gone a week now.
"It should be done by Tuesday. Wednesday at the latest."
"Thursday afternoon."
"Looks like it'll be Friday."
I think I should post the phone number to this shop just so you can hear this lady answer the phone. You'll wonder, as I did, if she is just messing around.
But here's the thing--she isn't.

I took John to the park to catch minnows today. I only do it because he loves it. It was gross. The water stinks. He's in heaven. When he finally caught some the jar gets knocked over so he has to start all over again. I'm long past ready to go so I decide to help to speed up the situation. My foot slides into the stagnant water and I'm looking around at all the nicely dressed moms sitting prettily on their blankets with their cherubic children and wonder, why? Why can't I be more like them?
I bring John home, strip him, and put him in the shower.
An hour later he comes running up to me tugging on his cowboy kerchief.
"Take it off! Take it off! Hurry! I gotta go!"
I'm confused. "What do you want me to take off?"
"This!"
"Your kerchief?"
"Yes! Hurry!"
"What? Why?"
"I gotta poop!"
But he is hopping up and down and I can't get the knot out and I still don't understand why he has to have this thing off to poop.

As I'm making dinner Nathaniel wants to know what the heck I'm shredding vegetables for.
Then he demands to know what it is I'm making and I'm trying to put it off because I know he hates meatloaf. I only make it about once or twice a year but I found a new recipe that has shredded squash, zuchinni, onion & carrots. It does not go over well. It won't set up and so I just keep cooking it until it looks like this:


I know. It's bad.

And it still didn't set up.
But I thought it tasted pretty good for being the consistency of chunky barf.
Who am I kidding? Who can really expect their family to eat this? I just sat at the table and laughed and wondered aloud about the things we could do with this burnt loaf of meat besides eat it. And by the time I put all the ingredients in it was kind of a lot so there is two more pans of it in the kitchen.

Peter, who can usually find something good to say asked me why I don't just stick to the recipe that we like.
I tell him its because I get bored with the meatloaf recipe I make once a year.
It is hard to cook something every day of your life for dinner. It gets old. I get bored.

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I remember a friend of mine with six young kids once told me the hardest part of her life at that time was trying to figure out what to make for dinner every day. As I'm listening to her I was wondering why with six kids dinner could be the hardest part of her life.