If I Could Turn Back Time
. . . I’d have done more cooking a few months ago, when Baguette was willing to actually GO TO BED.
Mr. Sandwich gets home from work at 5, and picks Baguette up. I get home a little after six. As far as we can tell, she’s eaten fairly recently at that point, so she’s not hungry. What she does want to do is go out for a walk and see every dog in the neighborhood (yes, apparently they all are named Wicket). The walk around our block is about a half mile, and it takes about an hour. Wicket didn’t take that long to make the trip even when we first found her and she could barely walk at a snail’s pace.
So now we’re at 7:15–7:30, and it’s time for a little food. Then it’s time for books, tooth brushing (she likes to do it herself), and Pajanimals. If you think this means she’s in bed before 8:30, think again. Of late, Baguette has decided that she will only go to sleep if Mr. Sandwich and I are both in bed with her.
Last night we tried something new. We went to bed, and when she finally fell asleep, I got up and fixed her lunch, put dishes in the dishwasher, and ate dinner.
What was that dinner? Scrambled eggs–half of which went to daycare with Baguette this morning. Because nowhere in this schedule is there time for me to make an actual meal.
I know about planning ahead, cooking in bulk, and using leftovers. I’m delighted to find the comments on this post from Casual Kitchen (a blog I’m new to, but clearly must start following). But I’m doubtful that I’ll be able to make much of anything work while I have a toddler who won’t nap, won’t sleep, and won’t let anyone else take care of her.
So I guess my only option is to invent a time machine. If only I had the time to do so.
Photo by Ateupamateur, via Flickr.