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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2t3uAwl:
I have spent the last two days minding Farmbaby because there was so much going on that it was the most useful thing i could do, her primary babysitters being out of town (mom and dad are helping the oldest sister and her three kids and two dogs and three cats move from Georgia to Maryland, and the moving truck broke down in South Carolina, and it’s been An Ordeal but they just!!! arrived!!! safely!!! whew what an odyessy– Dad said, “friday the 13th happened on wednesday”) – so I’ve been trying and trying to come up with things to do to keep her interested, and every time there’s a moment of idleness, she cries that she wants her mother.
Cut for whining, and my evolved mojito recipe is at the end.
Come on, kid, Christ. I know you’re three, I know I should be good-humored about this, but it has been non-fucking-stop. Today I carried her for a quarter-mile in my arms as she fake-sobbed, increasingly fake as she forgot why she was crying, that she “needed Mom!” but she’s actually too old to sustain hysterics of that caliber for any period of time. (Also she weighs over 40 pounds by now.) Long before we got anywhere, she’d fallen silent, and when I said, “can you walk now?” she said, calmly, “no, I don’t want to.” Thanks, kid.
It took us another 45 minutes of wandering aimlessly around to find her mother, because her mother was working and it’s a big farm, and I was trying pretty hard to just be chill and enjoy it as a low-intensity hike, but. By this evening, I am really tired. I can’t even attempt any other tasks and I’m suffering from the low-grade anxiety I get from being Unproductive, and she doesn’t even want to see me, and just now was shrieking at me not to be in the room she’s in because she only wants her mother, and fucking look, kid, I’m doing my goddamn best here, will you shut the fuck up and stop taking your clothes off.
Man this is why I’m not a mom. Because eventually, after a couple of weeks of this, I can say, “well, see you in a month!” and then in a month she’s delighted to see me for a whole few minutes, and it’s lovely.
Sister puts in, currently, that it is the arsenic hour– the time before dinner is always the worst, especially when dinner is late, as it is currently. So I am keeping that in mind, and making strong drinks.
Also, what a horrible fucking news day, but I’m not going to go into any of that. Suffice to say, fuck everything.
My Mojito Recipe:
Handful of mint– leave the leaves on the stalks, just cut it all in one, then you don’t have to strain it. Spearmint is best, peppermint is probably not the best choice, apple or other exotic mints will be okay, but only you know what you like. If you need spearmint, well, I mean, mine is trying to take over the world, go and check, I bet it’s in your yard by now.
Put mint in a big big jar. (A quart will do; I used a two-quart to leave myself plenty of room to adjust amounts and such.) Boil water.
Add about half a cup of sugar, or honey, or whatever you sweeten with, to the big jar.
Make sweet mint tea, filling the jar half to ¾ of the way with water.
While mint is still steeping, glug in two to six ounces of white rum. (Spiced rum is okay, but distracting.) (strength varies depending how big your jar is and what else you’re doing.)
Optionally, add an ounce or two of triple sec, if you like oranges.
Let it all steep. Eventually, take the mint out, squeezing it out well.
Then add maybe two to six ounces of lime juice, depending how tart you like all this. (You can put lemon juice in too if you like that sort of thing.)
Stick the jar into the fridge for a bit. Sometimes I leave the mint in the whole time, it seems not to get too bitter, but probably depends on your type of mint.
Add ice if it’s not cold. Drink it. Maybe don’t drink it all yourself, though four ounces of rum won’t hurt you. That much sugar might, though.
I have spent the last two days minding Farmbaby because there was so much going on that it was the most useful thing i could do, her primary babysitters being out of town (mom and dad are helping the oldest sister and her three kids and two dogs and three cats move from Georgia to Maryland, and the moving truck broke down in South Carolina, and it’s been An Ordeal but they just!!! arrived!!! safely!!! whew what an odyessy– Dad said, “friday the 13th happened on wednesday”) – so I’ve been trying and trying to come up with things to do to keep her interested, and every time there’s a moment of idleness, she cries that she wants her mother.
Cut for whining, and my evolved mojito recipe is at the end.
Come on, kid, Christ. I know you’re three, I know I should be good-humored about this, but it has been non-fucking-stop. Today I carried her for a quarter-mile in my arms as she fake-sobbed, increasingly fake as she forgot why she was crying, that she “needed Mom!” but she’s actually too old to sustain hysterics of that caliber for any period of time. (Also she weighs over 40 pounds by now.) Long before we got anywhere, she’d fallen silent, and when I said, “can you walk now?” she said, calmly, “no, I don’t want to.” Thanks, kid.
It took us another 45 minutes of wandering aimlessly around to find her mother, because her mother was working and it’s a big farm, and I was trying pretty hard to just be chill and enjoy it as a low-intensity hike, but. By this evening, I am really tired. I can’t even attempt any other tasks and I’m suffering from the low-grade anxiety I get from being Unproductive, and she doesn’t even want to see me, and just now was shrieking at me not to be in the room she’s in because she only wants her mother, and fucking look, kid, I’m doing my goddamn best here, will you shut the fuck up and stop taking your clothes off.
Man this is why I’m not a mom. Because eventually, after a couple of weeks of this, I can say, “well, see you in a month!” and then in a month she’s delighted to see me for a whole few minutes, and it’s lovely.
Sister puts in, currently, that it is the arsenic hour– the time before dinner is always the worst, especially when dinner is late, as it is currently. So I am keeping that in mind, and making strong drinks.
Also, what a horrible fucking news day, but I’m not going to go into any of that. Suffice to say, fuck everything.
My Mojito Recipe:
Handful of mint– leave the leaves on the stalks, just cut it all in one, then you don’t have to strain it. Spearmint is best, peppermint is probably not the best choice, apple or other exotic mints will be okay, but only you know what you like. If you need spearmint, well, I mean, mine is trying to take over the world, go and check, I bet it’s in your yard by now.
Put mint in a big big jar. (A quart will do; I used a two-quart to leave myself plenty of room to adjust amounts and such.) Boil water.
Add about half a cup of sugar, or honey, or whatever you sweeten with, to the big jar.
Make sweet mint tea, filling the jar half to ¾ of the way with water.
While mint is still steeping, glug in two to six ounces of white rum. (Spiced rum is okay, but distracting.) (strength varies depending how big your jar is and what else you’re doing.)
Optionally, add an ounce or two of triple sec, if you like oranges.
Let it all steep. Eventually, take the mint out, squeezing it out well.
Then add maybe two to six ounces of lime juice, depending how tart you like all this. (You can put lemon juice in too if you like that sort of thing.)
Stick the jar into the fridge for a bit. Sometimes I leave the mint in the whole time, it seems not to get too bitter, but probably depends on your type of mint.
Add ice if it’s not cold. Drink it. Maybe don’t drink it all yourself, though four ounces of rum won’t hurt you. That much sugar might, though.
