Sorry about the long hiatus. I broke up with Picky (note the blog name change), and moved my kids and I across town. I have been getting used to a new kitchen. For the most part, I am cool with the new kitchen. I really, really miss my gas stove. I have one of those glass topped ranges now. Ehhhh.
I miss the double sink. I miss my new fridge with the freezer drawer on the bottom. I thought I would miss our metro shelving with the hanging pots and pans, but my new kitchen has plenty of storage, and there is significantly less dog hair on everything when it's stored behind cabinet doors. I left Picky a lot more kitchen supplies than he uses or deserves (and he has complained about what I took, natch), but the only thing I really miss is one of the nice knives I left. I need to order a similar one, since I am most likely not going back to the wonderful restaurant supply store near Picky's sister's house where I bought it.
I don't miss cooking for someone who is rude, with so many food issues, and his extended family. And I sure as hell don't miss being bullied to make really high maintenance food, like crème brûlée, on short notice, for really ungrateful people. I would slave over gourmet food for Picky and his family, only to have his dad insult my cooking, Picky give me his usual backhanded compliments (if I got one at all), and his mom tell me that her best friend could make it better, and did she tell me how nice it was to be cooked for since she cooks all the meals when she visits her stay-at-home mom daughter?
She never even made a pot of coffee at my house, even if I had to be at the medical school for an 8 a.m. exam. I was late for one exam (and should have been turned away at the door, but luckily wasn't) because I had to make coffee for her and Picky's dad, and then she somehow forgot she had promised to take Z to school since they stayed the night before I had an exam with about one days' notice. They never, ever, ever asked me about my schedule before making plans that involved me and my family, even though every other member of the extended family doesn't work or go to school. They would make plans, and then inform me, and if I complained or tried to negotiate, I would have to brace myself for the guilt-trip and/or wrath.
But, I seriously don't want to turn this into a complaint-fest about Picky and his family. I am happy to revive this blog with new, fun posts about me and my kids. So, consider this the Picky-and-family exorcism. On to the fun posts!