traffic or groceries, tough decisions like this keep me energized

After school on Wednesday, Coach picks up Curly from school.  They rush in and grab the clothes that Curly is supposed to lay out for b-ball and Irish dancing.  Plus:  food.  Curly either inhales something in the kitchen or I toss something to her as she races out the door.

Basketball practice is about 17 minutes north of our house, but it starts at 4:00.  Curly doesn't get out of school until 3:30.

In case you were wondering where I spend my time.  Riveting stuff, right?  And by the way, that 'not drawn to scale' bit was meant to be humorous.  OBVIOUSLY this is not drawn to scale.

Coach usually comes home, but I instructed him to go straight to another school after dropping Curly off.  Reg is the 8th grade team b-ball manager.  This translates into him being invited to practice with the 8th graders.  His 7th grade season already ended.  The 8th grade class is a weird group.  Not many know ANYTHING about basketball.  This might have killed Reg, who wishes he could play but you only get to play on one team.  The saving grace is that the 8th graders who have no idea what they are doing keep Reg entertained.

In the first game, the coach told a kid he could sub in.  The kid knew nothing about subbing in, so he stood up off the bench, and ran right onto the court.  In the middle of the game!  Reg was busting a gut laughing when he relayed the story to me.

Anyway, Coach had to go to that school and watch the end of that game and then bring Reg home.  Easier and faster than getting him later after he takes the team bus back to school.  He has travel basketball from 7:30 - 9, so the sooner he gets home the better.

Meanwhile back on the baby-screaming ranch, I handed kids over to their parents as they arrived to collect them.  My eyes were burning because of my earlier sob-fest.  I could not wait to take my contact lenses out.  I insisted on accomplishing SOMETHING, so I started to mix a batch of these awesome protein balls that are gluten free while Mini told me about her day.

Just as Scary's mom left, my mom walked into my kitchen carrying a Nothin' Bunt Cake box and a little gluten free bunt-ette box.  Woo hoo!  I chatted with her for a few minutes but kept looking at the clock because I had to get Curly.

I used this time to casually mention that I did not think we were going to Yellowstone this summer.  'Um, I haven't told dad yet.'  Mom:  'Oh, I think he kind of knows that already.  Didn't you tell him that?'  Well, I mentioned the conflicts, but hadn't decided yet.  (I could almost feel myself standing taller as that weight was lifted).  Mom insisted that skipping Yellowstone was not going to be a big deal.

Um, I hadn't shared our final decision, but we are most likely going to take the kids to Vancouver.  Now, if Coach and I could just converse in the same room long enough to buy the flights.  Big deciding factor:  not liking our reservations for the dates we could travel, and not knowing how many more all-in family vacations we would have with our gang before they all grow up and do their own thing.  Plus, whale watching!

Anyway, I didn't have enough quinoa cooked for my recipe, so I tossed some on the stove top, instructed Mini on how to finish cooking it, and bolted to scoop up Curly.

This is before I roll the protein balls into balls.  I love this stuff and could easily just scoop some out of the bowl in the fridge.  Forming them into balls is safer, so I don't get carried away.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I can easily devour several protein balls at once.  I am limited in what I can eat, damn it.  Why should I deny myself here?  Right?  Of course it didn't dawn on me when I ran into the grocery store to buy more quinoa -even though I finished the last bag.  WHY DO I TORTURE MYSELF SO?  There's always tomorrow's grocery stop.  Grrr.

B-ball ends at 5:15.  Dancing is another 10 minutes north, but doesn't start until 6.  I bring Curly's dinner in the car.  This time the lights were on in the studio early and I sent her in the minute she was done with her dinner.  We needed lunch-meat.  Sit in traffic, or kill time buying lunch-meat down the street from dancing?  Such are the exciting decisions of my life.  Traffic or grocery shopping?  Two of my favorite things.  Stay tuned, again- for the conclusion.  Promise.  You won't be disappointed.