Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The missing muffins

So here's the update on the FLYLADY project I'm undergoing. My sink is clean 80% of the time. By "clean" I mean there is nothing in it and no food stuck to it. The family is starting to catch on. Last night, a pop can mysteriously made its way into the kitchen. That's a first. Part of my morning routine is walking around the house (upstairs and downstairs) and picking up beer bottles, pop cans, water glasses, and dirty clothes. Wow. Sounds like I live in a frat house. Anyway, after two weeks of making it my sole mission in life to KEEP THE SINK CLEAN, I'm starting to make progress. I certainly have Highlander's support. He's all about having a clean sink. In spite of the mental disconnect he seems to experience between the existence of the clean sink and the part where he mindlessly leaves dirty dishes/silverware/beer bottles in and around the sink. We're getting there. One little baby step at a time.

Last night was spaghetti night. Please refrain from making any comparisons between me and Sheldon from "The Big Bang Theory." Spaghetti night is my easy night. The pasta is whole wheat dried from a box and the sauce is frozen from our own tomatoes. So I'm thawing and boiling. I do go to the tremendous effort to make crescent rolls and I even cut the dough in half so that they are super tiny, cute crescent rolls with Parmesan cheese crusted onto them. We have ice cream sandwiches for dessert. By 7:30 last night, the kitchen was clean. The little girls were working their way through their own evening routines, while singing the ABC's loudly and occasionally breaking into a boxing match in the upstairs hallway. Things were going well. So I decided to bake a batch of blueberry muffins to enjoy for this morning's breakfast. I was feeling very organized and effective.

The muffins were wonderful. I ate one almost immediately after they came out of the oven. I used our frozen blueberries instead of the can of sad little bunny pellet sized one's that come with the mix. I poured them into Dora the Explorer muffin papers. Proud. I felt proud.

Tori and Zoe were SUPER excited for their very special breakfast muffins upon waking this morning. Tori said, "It's like CAKE in the MORNING only it's GOOD for you and it's good for ME and it's good for ZOE and I want to have TWO of them. TWO. And I want to take one to school in my lunch in a baggie and I want a drink with it and a sandwich and I want Blueberry Muffins Always on Wednesdays. Is today Wednesday or Saturday? Can I wear a dress to school today...."

I had already had a muffin with my coffee about a half hour before Frick and Frack (as we lovingly call them) woke up. Even at 10 hours old, they were divine.

Tori and Zoe rushed downstairs in their pajamas and robes.

"MOM!" Tori hollered up the stairs. "WHERE ARE THE MUFFINS?"

"Toria....they are on top of the stove." I shook my head. The girl is sometimes quite blind.


"Toria Joy. Yes. They. Are. Look again." I came down the stairs wondering if this child would ever be allowed to drive a car. I rounded the corner just as she yelled, "NO. THEY. ARE. NOT!!!!!"

There were no muffins on the stove. There were no muffins on the floor. There were no muffins anywhere.


I peered down the basement stairs and there, on his chair cushion, looking satisfied and delighted, was our lovely white Labrador retriever, Max.

I closed the basement door softly, took a deep yoga breath, briefly considered murdering the dog and roasting him over an open fire in the yard for supper, and said, "Victoria and Zoe, I am so sorry. Max ate the muffins....." Tori interrupted me. "I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO EAT ONE!" She disintegrated into tears. "I am so sorry. I'll make more this afternoon and they'll be here when you get home from school." This conversation went on for the next 42 minutes while we finished getting ready for the bus.

The dog is still in the basement.

I can't look at him yet.

I've decided not to murder him.

For now.

So the FLYLADY thing is working out, despite the occasional setback. I'm a little afraid to add a laundry routine to our delicate system, but I think that'll be the next thing I tackle. I may need to start a daily prayer for strength and wisdom. Or perhaps a second pot of coffee....