That’s how many showed up. Many more than I thought, and it comes out to about 45%. I can handle 10.
Numbers
4: Number of days I have to find and train new employees
2: Hours I spent on the phone today scheduling interviews
22: Interviews I have scheduled for tomorrow afternoon
4: Number of people I expect will actually show up
5: Interviews I had scheduled for yesterday
0: Number who showed up
5.8: Percentage of people in Georgia who are unemployed (the highest it’s ever been in recorded history, and currently higher than the national average)
I think I know why it’s so high. Come on, people! Woody Allen said that 80% of success is just showing up.
Running a business and managing staff is a lot harder than I expected.
Groceries
How’s a girl supposed to make healthy choices when ice cream is cheaper than milk???
Ballet update
Well, class #3 went better than expected. Not only did Bean walk out happy, but she said the teacher didn’t yell, and when we got home she was able to show us first position, second position, and plie. I think I’ll just back off. I’ll keep talking to her about handling tough situations, but I’ll let her take this one herself. When fall comes though, I’ll be looking for a new ballet school.
My hero
I could just eat him up! Especially when says, “When I grow up, I wanna be a fire fighter!”
Ballet
Bean started taking ballet a few weeks ago. They call it ‘Princess Camp’ and she loves it. There’s a 45 minute dance lesson, followed by watching a part of a princess ballet (they’re doing Sleeping Beauty now), and arts and crafts time. It seemed like the perfect thing, since she’s into princesses and she’s been begging me (of all people) to teach her how to be a ballerina.
She loved the first lesson and couldn’t wait to go back. After the second though she wanted to quit. This morning we’re scheduled to have the third. I spent all week trying to get out of her what the problem is, and I’ve figured out that it’s the teacher. She’s a 17-year old and she does most of the toddler classes.
Apparently, the teacher yells. And she expects the 4-yr olds to do exactly what she says when she says it. Bean tries hard to follow directions, but she doesn’t always understand them. So now - even at home - she’s started responding with “I don’t know” when I ask her if she did something wrong. I can ask why her little brother is crying, did she take a toy away from him, why is she crying, did she understand me when I told her to get dressed… And her stock response now is “I don’t know.” And then she cries. And all of this just in the last week.
I peeked in the window at the class last week - just long enough to see her getting into trouble for not following directions that she didn’t understand. And being yelled at. It broke my mommy heart. And she was trying so hard! So now, I’m about to throw her back into the pack of wolves. Granted, I’ve tried to give her some coping skills, like what to say when she doesn’t understand. And we’ve had the talk about knowing who she is and who loves her - and not getting upset when a silly teenage ballet teacher says something mean.
But I’m conflicted. A part of me wants to march in there, tell them they’re treating children unreasonably. Another part of me wants to approach the teenage teacher and have a heart to heart with her. The bigger part of me wants to remove her from class. But what would that teach her? So off we go. Lunch packed, we’re headed to ballet class for Bean to be verbally pummeled into submission again.
In bed
I’m in bed with mastitis. Oh, the fun… the fever… the body aches… And this coincided exactly with Bean finding my Cooking for Kids cookbook, complete with all sorts of party cakes and fun cookies, with pictures of each one.
Fridays are dessert night in our house, and Bean has been approaching everyone in the house and asking them to pick out their favorite cake. Apparently she thinks Mama’s going to jump out of her feverish bed rest to whip up a pirate treasure chest cake, a clown cake, or a dreidle cake for dessert night tonight. (I was thinking something more along the lines of break and bake cookies.) When I told Bean that I’m too sick to make a cake like that tonight her response was “That’s okay. Tata can do it.” (She calls dad Tata - it’s Romanian. Lest there be any confusion, yes my children all speak Romanian and English. Yes, they are geniuses. And no, I’m not biased at all.) So, she now has it in her mind that Tata is going to make some sort of fancy-schmancy homemade cake in the form of a dinosaur or an angel. I guess all girls think there’s nothing their daddies can’t do.
Sometimes helpfulness goes a bit too far
Bean has been potty trained for nearly a year now, but still asks for help with wiping sometimes. And we oblige her - there’s something to be said for personal hygiene. Well, this morning I heard Bean in the potty patiently asking for help while I was being sucked on nursing. Just as the words “I’ll be there in just a sec!” came out of my mouth, Little Man, who’s still in diapers, went running.
Sopi! Sopi! (that’s what Little Man calls her) Waddaya need hep wit? I hep you! I hep you!
…followed by the sound of hubbs tearing into the bathroom to keep 2-yr old Little Man from wiping 4-yr old Bean’s messy little tushie.
Beef stroganoff
A friend once asked me for my recipe for beef stroganoff. I think that was about a year ago… Well, better late than never, right?
Beef Stroganoff, a la Mudlark
Ingredients
2 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
8 oz. sliced baby portabella mushrooms
1 medium onion, chopped coarsely
1 lb stew beef or steak cut into cubes
1 can Campbell’s Beefy Mushroom soup
1/4 c. Sherry or white wine
1 large dollop of sour cream
Cooked rice, mashed potatoes, or egg noodles
Heat olive oil in large skillet. Add mushrooms and saute while you cut the onion (a couple minutes?), then add the onion. Saute until mushrooms give off their fluid and onion starts to become translucent. Add beef and cook over high heat 1-2 minutes, or until beef is mostly browned, stirring frequently. Lower heat and add soup and sherry. Cover and simmer 10-15 minutes. Stir in sour cream just before serving for maximum flavor. Serve over your choice of yummy, high carb starches - rice, mashed potatoes, or egg noodles. If you want to get all fancy and stuff add a fresh sprig of dill or parsley.
Now, if you think this is ‘authentic’ Russian stroganoff because once upon a time I lived in “Russia” and am therefore an expert in Russian cuisine, read this post. And note that neither Russians nor Moldovans would consider this authentic cuisine from their part of the world. True Russian stroganoff doesn’t have mushrooms, but it does have about a pound of butter and a few other things you won’t find in my version.
Insufficient glandular tissue
And chronic low milk supply.
So I haven’t been a major screwup in breastfeeding my kids. It’s just that my dairy-cow-like-hooters aren’t very dairy-like. I always took comfort in the fact that those things are supposed to be functional - so the burden of carrying them around and finding the elusive comfortable bra was at least a worthy cause. But no more! I might as well be flat as a board, since for all their massive weight, these ta-tas are and always be virtually empty of anything substantive. Can’t say I didn’t try.
