Being a Hero

Thank you all so very much for the thoughts and support with regards to yesterday's post.  I have had a nice, fairly quiet day at home in which I have gotten a lot of little stuff knocked out that needed to be taken care of (documents are now scanned and e-mailed, replacements orders have been placed for stuff that was falling apart, the laundry is done, etc.), and I am in a better place mentally and physically.  The line is still there in Doodlebug's vision, but he claims it's somewhat fainter.  I'm not sure if this is true or if it's simply wishful thinking on his part - the placebo effect is strong in this one - but it's not getting worse, and that's something.

Anyway, none of that is the point of this post.

A few days ago, Boo was bouncing around the school room and announced flatly, "You're my hero, Mom."

As simple as that.  "You're my hero."

And with those three little words, my daughter blew my mind.

I never had a hero growing up.  The notion that you were supposed to have a hero was one that simply sounded ludicrous to me.  In sixth or seventh grade, we were supposed to write an essay on our hero - who that person was, why we chose that person, etc.  I have a confession to make to my English teacher at the time:

Dear Mrs. Grant, 
     
     My essay was pure, unadulterated bullshit.

                      Sincerely, 

                      Sarah

I'm sure I made up something about a grandmother or a famous person I'd read about at the time or something, but it would all have been lies.  Lies, I tell you!  I had no role model, nobody who I felt was worth being other than me, myself, and I.  And I have always rather liked that about myself.

And so now, when my daughter announces that she has a hero and that hero is ME… well, you can see where I would struggle.

I am exquisitely sure that one day I will very much NOT be her hero and she'll want to be NOTHING like that crazy old bat she has to call Mom (or Mombledore, or Mumsie, or whatever else I get called around here), but for right now, this vibrant, bouncy daughter of mine has it in her head that I'm a good person and that she should be like me when she grows up.

It's both thrilling and petrifying.  I hope I can live up to at least a few of her expectations.  Because heaven knows I haven't lived up to all of mine!

I Fold. The Week Wins.

I have a headache this evening.  It's threatening to turn into a migraine, but it hasn't crossed the magic line yet, so I'm hopeful that taking Aleve and not eating dinner will be enough to keep the pain at bay.  I'm not sure if the headache is due to the events of the past 36 hours or if it's just due to the horrific wind and weather blowing through today.

Yesterday morning we went to the pediatric ophthalmologist for Doodlebug.  We go every year.  When he was 2 1/2, he had to have eye surgery for strabismus, and I can always remember the exact date because Oz and I sat in the waiting room of the surgical area and cuddled an itty-bitty Boo and watched on TV as Hurricane Katrina flung herself at the Gulf Coast.  We've been fortunate - even though Doodlebug has a couple of odd quirks in his vision, he can see well and we've never had to have the surgery repeated.  So when we got a call from the ophthalmologist's office saying that our regular doctor had been called away by an emergency and we could either reschedule or see the doctor who'd agreed to substitute, I was fine with the substitution.

When we went in, we were immediately called back, and the intake tech started her process.  At one point during the exam, when Doodlebug's right eye was covered, he said, "I can't see that letter.  There's a line over it."  It caught my attention.  The intake tech didn't say anything, but she was writing notes so I assumed she had noticed as well.  (Hindsight:  One should never assume.)  When the doctor came in, Doodlebug again mentioned during a test that he wasn't able to see something with his left eye because of the "white line."  The doctor held up a few lenses to his right eye - not the left at all - pronounced him good to go for another year, and we went on our merry way.

While we were in the elevator, I asked Doodlebug what he meant about not being able to see, and he told me that there was a blank spot in his vision.  At the time, and because this weather front has been sitting here not moving but causing all sorts of problems since yesterday, I assumed that he was having a pre-migraine symptom.  No biggie.  When we got home, I asked him if his head hurt.  He said no.  I asked him if the line was still there if he closed his right eye.  He said yes and told me where it was and described it exactly the same as it had been when we were in the office.  Throughout the day, I asked him about it several more times.  Each time the answers were remarkably similar.  By 4 p.m., I was getting mad that the doctor hadn't taken him seriously and at least asked what he meant.  By 7 p.m., (and with the help of the Internet), I was in what might best be described as a panicked rage.

Sleep didn't help much.

I called the ophthalmology office this morning.  The woman who answered the phone was wonderful.  She said that "we cain't have him goin' around not seein'!" and said that if there wasn't an appointment available, she'd go back and "be very firm" that we needed to get in.  Thankfully there was an opening, and I jumped at it.  Back in the car we got, and back to the office we went.  I gathered from the way things were said that our story had made its way around the office, and the (regular) intake tech and our (regular) doctor were both very attentive when Doodlebug said, yet again, that there was a line in his vision.

The doctor dilated his eye to get a better look… and couldn't really figure out what was going on.  I felt better after that, in that at least the other doctor hadn't missed something obvious (though it still irks me that Doodlebug wasn't taken seriously the first time), but at the same time I felt worse, because the news itself wasn't great.  The doctor seems to think that there's something going on with the vitreous fluid and it's somehow pulling on the retina and causing just a little bit of a wrinkle, which is the cause of the line.    As for what caused the vitreous fluid to mess up in the first place, that's anyone's guess.  The doctor was optimistic and thinks the line will sort itself out in a few days, but in the meantime I have to keep a close eye (no pun intended) on things.  Obviously if it gets worse, we go back in immediately and/or we'll be sent to a retinal specialist.  That thought terrifies me.  I hope it really is nothing and dissipates.  Send up any thoughts you might have to spare, would you?

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Immediately after we left the ophthalmologist's office, we had to race across town, grab some lunch, and head to the local school administration building for my initial meeting with the school psychologist.  We were there for nearly two hours, during which time he and I talked and he filled out a stack of forms.  The amount of paperwork is mind-boggling.  I knew teachers had to deal with a lot of crap and that there would be a lot of paperwork, but I don't think I was entirely prepared for what I brought home - a stack of copies of all the forms we filled out, a small book (well, more copied papers, but altogether they amount to a small book) of parental legal rights in the system and legal definitions and all that sort of thing, and four assessment forms for behavioral, ADHD, and ASD that Oz and I get to fill in before I go back.  And this is only the beginning.

Next time we go in, we'll meet with the psychologist again as well as the gifted coordinator.  We'll meet with her because she's the one with the grade-level assessments, wherein my kids will get to show off their smarts and I'll get to nibble my fingernails down to the quick over the idea that I'll have forgotten to teach them something major.  We'll also probably start some of the other assessments that Doodlebug will have to have in order to qualify for any sort of special services.  I'm sure it'll be another long meeting.

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And so I have a headache today.  Whether it's the weather or just dealing with stress, I don't know, but I do know that I'm canceling our plans for tomorrow.  We were supposed to go to a couple of events, but we all need a day to stay at home and ooze.  Oozing sounds delicious.

Heartwarming Moments

That moment when…

… your 11-year-old son parks himself on the couch next to you and says, "Mom, I am going to snuggle you.  You have 30 seconds to prepare for snuggling.  29… 28… 27… "

… your just-turned-9-year-old daughter gets to sit between two of her closest friends at lunch, and when the meal is over and you're walking out of the restaurant, she says to the friend next to her, "Let's walk out arm in arm like they do in books."  And they do.

… your husband comes home from working all day, sees that you're still on the couch at 5:45 p.m. and decides to take care of dinner.  Steak, baked potatoes, grilled zucchini, and a lovely bottle of Cabernet sauvignon.

… you're exhausted and want nothing more than to climb into bed right after dinner, but you're the mom - so the children hunt you down and climb up on the bed, and the cats wander in and hop up on the bed, too, and the husband sits on the nearby armchair, so you have your bed and your family, and what can really be better than that?

… you find this on Pinterest and can only sit there and think, "YES" to every single one (click and zoom to enlarge or visit my Pinterest page):

… you come back from Spring Break after three weeks and everyone's done with school by 1:30, even the boy who was grouchy when he first woke up, but he snapped out of it and did what needed to be done like a mature human being.

… you strew your daughter's birthday gifts around the house throughout the day because you were too tired to wrap them the night before, and every time she finds something she shrieks with happiness and gives you a giant hug.  Way better than one big anticlimactic, "Thanks, Mom & Dad!"  

… your son comes home from an all-night gaming session (formerly known as a sleepover) and says he's played a geography game.  "And, Mom, I see what you mean when you say that world geography isn't taught very well.  We had to place flags on the countries or states.  And we all knew the US states, but then it moved to Europe, and all they knew was Italy and France!  They didn't even know England!"  (And yes, I'm painfully aware that my kids know this at the expense of knowing American history… but I'm working on that.  Really I am.)

… you call your sister and tell her that you're about to do something that is seriously going to piss off someone you both know, and she tells you that you're doing the right thing, anyway, and for the same exact reasons you had already said to yourself but didn't entirely believe.

So many good things each day.  I just have to remember to write them down sometimes!  What good thing happened to you lately?

And Away We Went

I didn't disappear.  Well, not entirely.  Just from this continent.  Well, hemisphere.  Both hemispheres, I guess, if you want to get technical.

Oh, hell, we went to Australia.  There, I said it.

For the record, 14- and 15-hour plane flights are just as bad as you think.

But in the end, it's all worth it.

We flew into Sydney on Friday, March 7.

Oz had to remember (and/or relearn, depending on how you look at it) how to drive on the left, and I was introduced to new things like speed limit signs that A) look altogether different, and B) change depending on traffic patterns and time of day. (And new yield signs that said "Give Way," and stop signs with blacked-out stoplights on them, and the fact that you can't turn left at a stoplight unless there's a sign or a light that specifically gives you permission, and all sorts of other fun little things.)

We bought the most expensive tank(s) of gasoline we've ever purchased in our lives.

We saw lizards everywhere, from the tiny...

…to the huge.  (To be fair, this one was behind glass at the zoo, but still.  There really where lizards everywhere.  Doodlebug was in Herpetology Heaven.)

Some of the trees may, apparently, try to kill you...

Look closely behind that white flower in the middle
to see a red-bellied black snake.

… and if they don't, that snake might.

But we happily went sightseeing, anyway,

and really enjoyed wandering around places with names like Taronga Zoo, Circular Quay, Darling Harbour, The Rocks, the Queen Victoria Building, and the Blue Mountains (where we saw the Three Sisters, pictured later).

In addition to the plane flights, we rode on trams, trains, a skyway, cable cars, a bus, and a ferry.  We ate meat pies, scones (which is what Boo is holding here… pronounced skAWn, not scOHn), prawns, Australian sausages, biscuits (cookies) and plenty of 'chips' with 'tomato sauce' (fries with ketchup).  I did fix one dinner for our charming hostess (Oz's aunt) and her boyfriend, and I think they really enjoyed the jambalaya.

We snapped the ubiquitous photos that one must take when visiting Sydney.

And we even climbed the steps and touched the Opera House.  Oz and I found out later that there had been a concert of John Williams music on the weekend we were first there, and we almost wished we'd gotten tickets, but it would have meant dressing up… and really, that wasn't in the cards.

Getting dirty and digging in rock pools was on the agenda, however,...

… and since the waves were a little too rough, swimming in a true ocean-water pool was right up Boo's alley.

Oz got himself pinched by a crab,

and he found sea stars for Doodlebug to hold and shells for me to bring home.

We drove up to the Blue Mountains and saw the Three Sisters and heard the legend of their creation,

and we rode on the world's steepest passenger railway, a nice, slow ride that lasted all of two minutes but which thoroughly freaked out the girl.

Doodlebug got to sleep in something called a swag, which is like a one-man tent.  (Think of Waltzing Matilda.)

But after all our adventures (and a really long flight back), we were ready to be home.

So when we saw this one last sunset on the plane, on the very last flight between Dallas and Tulsa… we were all ready to fall into bed.  Which we did, and we slept for about 14 hours.

Thanks to Oz's family for hosting us and to the weather for not raining on us at all and to Sydney for being an absolutely glorious place to visit.  Maybe one day, we'll get to visit again.

But not too soon.  Because those flights really are just as bad as you think.

On a More Positive Note

Thanks for letting me rant yesterday.  I know I whine about the boy, and it's true that he is not an easy child to raise, and it's hard not to compare him to Boo, who is his complete opposite in so many, many ways, but just when I'm down in my darkest depths and feel like I'm bashing my head against a brick wall trying to get him to understand things like altruism and empathy, he surprises me.

Yesterday we had to run errands.  And by errands, I mean errands.  By the time we got home, we had made 8 stops.  Granted, at three of those (the gas station, the recycling drop-off, and Sonic) the kids didn't have to get out of the car, but it still made for an interminably long afternoon and a good chunk of it was spent in department stores shopping for clothes, and a good chunk of the clothes were not for the boy.  I always hold my breath when we go on marathon shopping sprees like these because I know what a child's attention span is and I remember all the shenanigans that my sister and I would get up to when my mom insisted that we needed to make the hour-long drive to Joplin and spend a day shopping there.  I have a scar on my forehead from the time we were wrestling on the floor and I rolled into the corner of the jewelry counter.  Shenanigans.  And Doodlebug is not known for his patience when the shopping involves anyone else.

But the kids were fabulous.  They were patient with me and with each other while we all agonized over varying clothes decisions (not least of which was a swimsuit for me, which I did not wind up purchasing because swimsuit makers still do not understand that 'tummy control' for moms means built-in Spanx... guess where I'm looking next?).  At one point, I was browsing the clearance racks and found a shirt I wanted to try but only saw it in a small, a size which I am decidedly not.  Doodlebug hunted around for me and found it in a medium.  It was still too small, but he and his sister were so proud of working together that they actually high-fived each other in the middle of the store.

Doodlebug had also brought along a Sonic gift card that he'd received for Christmas.  When I told the kids that I would buy them drinks as a thank-you treat for being so well-behaved, Doodlebug said, "Mom, I want to use my card and buy myself a Blast instead.  And I want to buy my sister one, too."

I melted.

They followed me around the grocery store like well-trained puppies after that, chatting (mostly) nicely and eating their ice cream.  Best.  Grocery trip.  Ever.

Of course, we got home and he promptly dissolved into a pile of grumpiness and got sent to his room to detox and relax, but that I understand - after holding it together in stores for several hours, we all needed a break.

And today has finally been better all around.  I think we're finally over the Sunday Minecraft 'hump.'  Seriously have to ban it.  Hate doing it, but three days of grief for two hours' worth of play isn't worth it for anyone. 

Hope your Thursday is as nice as mine looks like it'll be!

Because This is My Venting Place

Feel free to not read this blog post.  I'm okay with that.  I simply need somewhere to get all this out, and my friends have heard it all a million times, and so has my husband (and so have you, really, but in my experience it's easier to not read something than it is to not hear it), and so I just need to get it all out of my head before I go insane.

WARNING: Profanity ahead.

Doodlebug is having another bad week.  He won't try.  Will.  Not.  Try.

On Sunday I let him go over to a friend's house for a couple of hours because I was freaking exhausted and my friend asked to borrow the boy so he could see his friends.  Usually when they're together, they play Minecraft.  I'm okay with that as long as it isn't in my house.  But of course he came home, and that night he stole his sister's iPod (again) and hacked into it (again) so he could watch Minecraft videos (again).  And then on Monday when he got caught (again), he cried and said he'd try 'next time' (again) and otherwise fed us all giant shovelfuls of bullshit (again).

Because he'd been up half the night Sunday night using his sister's technology, that meant that his school work on Monday was completed in a half-assed fashion.

Yesterday, Tuesday, was no better.  He claimed to have slept, and he got some of his work done properly, but then came writing.  At 10:45 a.m., he read through his lesson, handed me the book and said, "I read it.  I'm done.  That's all there was."  I looked down and the first thing I saw was, "Underline the...."  So I called his bluff and handed the book back.  Five minutes later, he announced, "I need to use the computer, Mom.  It says I have to type up this paragraph."  So you did have work to do.  Congratulations on finally reading the lesson.  I let him type it up.  He printed off a copy, and it was clear to me that he hadn't understood the lesson.  Fine.  So we went over what was wrong, I pointed out that the mistakes shouldn't have happened because there were very explicit samples in the book, and sent him back upstairs to type.  In the meantime, I had to go get Boo from her sewing class (she's doing great, by the way... yesterday they finished making a patchwork drawstring bag, and it looks very professional!) and so I thought I could trust him to behave on the computer for the time I would be gone.

WRONG.

The work was done sloppily, and he felt the need to use the time to watch yet more Minecraft videos.  And delete the Internet history, of course, which was the Ultimate Tip-off because I know what sort of browsing I do each morning while they're working. 

So at this point, he won't be seeing his friends till the end of April (it would be March, but we'll be gone for most of it).  If one afternoon of Minecraft results in a week of work for me, it isn't worth it.  He's not happy about it, of course, but at this point I don't give a shit.  He's banned from Minecraft from now to eternity, here and anywhere else.  I don't even know why I get optimistic any more.

This morning, you'd think we'd be better, but no... he was up 45 minutes before anyone else and the first words I heard from either of my children this morning was, "Doodlebug, I'm telling Mom."  "I'm sorry."  "For what - putting your hands on me and not letting me go... AGAIN???"

Eff this.  Anyone want to trade me for an easier model?  I have gotten this one half-grown... I won't say half-raised, because clearly that hasn't happened and I'm not sure it's a possibility... so it's not like you'd be starting with a new specimen.  This one's clearly a challenge for the ages.

I get to go shopping with him later today.  I may 'accidentally' leave him behind.  It's very tempting...

Breaks and Endings

I realized today that I haven't posted since Valentine's Day.  That day, of course, was wonderful.  But then last week happened.

I knew it was coming.  My grandmother's health had been steadily declining since the beginning of the year, and I'd had a hunch for more than a month that this would be 'the week.'  And it was.  My mother called at 4 a.m. Wednesday to let me know that she was on her way up to Kansas and would be grabbing my sister on the way.  I waited by the phone all day until I got the word around 4:30 p.m., and then I went up Thursday morning to help my mother with final arrangements.  Oz was amazing and took care of the kids all day Thursday and Friday, including finding an entire outfit for Doodlebug and a new dress for Boo, before bringing them up for the funeral Saturday morning.  (No, I'm not sad.  It was time.  So no need for condolences.)

We got back home late yesterday afternoon.  It was odd driving home and realizing that I now have almost no reason to go back up to Kansas.  I've promised my great-aunt that I'll swing by to say hi to her if I'm up, but that might - might - be once a year, not the 3-4 times a year I'd been making the drive before.  So that was weird.

Last week was also an interest-led week around here.  I wish I was clever enough to have taken photos or videos of their presentations, but since we just did them this morning, I was tired and didn't.  Doodlebug studied particle accelerators and made a poster about them (he typed up quite the paper!); Boo studied rodents and made a Powerpoint presentation.

Then this is the last week of February already.  Spring Break is coming up quickly, and I have only a month to get ready for Boo's 9th birthday, and I haven't even begun to get her gifts yet.  I don't even know what to get her, if I'm honest.  What do you get a 9-year-old girl?  I'm at a loss.

So if I'm absent for the next few weeks, just pretend you don't notice.  March is going to be a hot mess. I'll be back sooner or later, and I'm thinking of you all!

Today

So today was Valentine's Day, yet another day in which I am reminded how completely inadequate I am when it comes to things like holidays and gifts.  I am the one, after all, who has completely forgotten (both of) her anniversaries multiple times and tends to forget not only her own birthday but those of her loved ones as well.  The kids are only exempt, I am sure, by virtue of their age.  When they hit 21, I hope they can forgive me for my forgetfulness.

Anyway, Oz hit home runs today, as he always does.  Usually we don't do big gifts for Valentine's - maybe a small box of chocolate or just cards or a bouquet of flowers.  But for whatever reason, Oz decided to spoil me rotten this year.  Yesterday he brought home a beautiful bouquet of red tulips and he and I shared half a dozen massive chocolate-covered strawberries.  This morning he bounced me awake (it's a good thing it was Valentine's Day, or he'd probably have lost body parts doing that), made and poured me coffee, and presented me with a beautiful watch.  I'm both really picky about and really hard on watches, so he'd asked me about it previously.  I'd told him that I liked that one, but I assumed at the time that he was pre-shopping for my birthday and/or cruise gift ideas and/or Mother's Day, because I actually am that spoiled and he actually is that good at gifts and actually does plan that far ahead.  Which makes my gift-giving incompetence all the more glaring.  But we'll move on.  He resized the watch this afternoon and, in addition, helped me with laundry, dusted the downstairs, and cleaned the kitchen and washed the dishes after dinner.

What did I do?

I got him two cards.

Oh, and he also bought cards and small boxes of chocolate for each of the kids and graciously let me take half-credit for them.

This is why I keep him.

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The kids and I had a good day today, too.

School was understandably shoved to the back burner today - we did some grammar, and each kid did a page of math, and they copied down the final drafts of their history papers (she wrote a little piece about the Ancient Indus Valley civilization and he wrote a short essay on the history of medicine in ancient cultures), and after that, we left.

First we went to an area assisted living center, where the kids put on a talent show for some of the residents.  The group has performed this for three years now, though we missed the first year, and all the kids have really progressed in their performances.  Feel free to read about the talent show on my friend's blog.  Doodlebug came up with the idea for using skits as part of the talent show.  He wanted to participate but didn't feel like reciting a poem like he did last year.  We found some other kids to participate after selecting the skits we wanted to perform, and I thought they all did a fabulous job, especially since they had never rehearsed together!  They spoke loudly and clearly, and in the end, there were some laughs for each skit.

After the talent show, a couple of us headed over to a local tea house for lunch with another friend, and she snapped a picture of me sitting on a ledge outside the tea house after we got done eating.

This has been cropped to become my new profile picture, but look - a picture of me!

Then the talent show friend left, and the photo friend and I headed over to the local skating rink for an afternoon of trying not to break bones while zipping around a slick wooden floor on four-wheeled shoes of doom.  Boo actually learned to skate without hanging onto a wall, and Doodlebug brought his own rollerblades along so he wouldn't have to use rentals.  The boy has brains, I'll give him that.

By the time we left there, we were ALL ready to get home.  Thankfully the skating rink is only a couple of miles from our house, so it didn't take long at all before we were crashed in various places (Doodlebug promptly soaked himself in a hot bath, and Boo wasn't far behind) wearing pajama/comfy pants and I was wondering what on earth I had been thinking when I'd decided on dinner plans.

Tomorrow we're staying home (Boo is under the impression that she wants to go roller skating again, but I think she'll be ready to change those plans in the morning).  My mom is dropping by to give the kids their Valentines, and I have warned her that we all may be lounging in our pajamas when she arrives.  Because THIS girl has no intention of moving before noon.

Hope you all had a great Valentine's Day/Friday.  And may your weekend be as warm as mine is supposed to be!

Death is Contagious

You know how there are those days/weeks/months when it seems like everyone is getting married?  And then those days/weeks/months when everyone seems to be popping out kids left and right (and almost all of them are one gender)?

Yeah, well, welcome to the Month of Death.  El mes de muerte.  I do enjoy alliteration, perhaps a little too much.

In the last three days, three of my friends have been affected by deaths in their family.  One of my neighbors lost of her grandfather, a good friend of mine lost her father, and one of my best friends lost her grandmother.

My heart aches for them.  There is little I can do but offer support (and keep a neighborly eye on vacant homes), but I wish I could do more.

Still, sometimes I marvel at how the universe works.  My neighbor had already planned to visit her grandfather in Arizona this week when she got the news that he had passed.  So instead of celebrating a birthday, she'll be attending a funeral, but at least she has the ability to go and say goodbye.  The friend who lost her grandmother had already planned to take a trip this week as well.  She had intended to go on more of a pleasure trip to meet her boyfriend's family down South, but now she's planning a trip to West Virginia instead.  My friend who lost her father had moved her parents into her home a few months ago so she could work on their health and make their lives better.  She is the one for whom I probably ache the most.  Losing a grandparent is hard, yes, but not as unexpected.  Losing a parent is harder, I would imagine, especially when you've been planning to spend years with them and suddenly realize time has run out.

Logically, I know that death is part of life, and when it happens, it happens.  We all deal with it, and as we get older, we see more of it and with each one, we become slightly more inured to the idea of our own eventual demise (OK, I do, at least).  However, it still surprises me how these things happen in groups, how suddenly there might be a whole slew of marriages or divorces or babies or deaths within only a few months.

It almost makes me hold my breath… to see which domino will fall next.  Hopefully it is none of yours.

Inventing Recipes - Never a Planned Exercise

Five years ago, almost exactly, I invented a recipe out of necessity to use up thawed meat and ingredients I had on hand.  Since I was not raised in the kitchen, stepping away from recipes and just making things on the fly isn't something that has come naturally to me.  I can make some things without them now, but mostly I've memorized the ingredients and techniques and use standard ingredients - stir-frys, curries, gumbo, etc.

Tonight, however, was Wednesday, which means that Oz was working late.  I had planned to make shepherd's pie, but when 5 o'clock rolled around, I had absolutely no inclination to make mashed potatoes, brown the meat, put it all together, and wait.  The kids were puttering around, and so I asked them if they wanted shepherd's pie or if they'd rather just have tomato soup and grilled cheese.  They were fine with the latter.

But then… after I'd dumped the soup into a pot and was rummaging through the fridge for the cheese for sandwiches, I ran across a small container of leftover taco beef that I'd nearly forgotten about.  And I got an idea. And thus Sarah's Tomato Taco Soup was born.  The kids loved it.  And they wanted me to share the recipe with you so that the deliciousness can be passed on to others.  If you try it, let me know!  And enjoy!

I'm sort of a food snob, so this was the tomato soup I used.  You use what works for you.
Pacific Foods have no idea who I am or that I buy their product.

A few notes before you begin reading the recipe:  When I make taco meat, I sauté the ground beef and onions together, then add seasoning.  I make up my own taco seasoning using chili powder, cumin, salt and a little bit of pepper.  Very simple.  I used Velveeta in my recipe tonight since I was using up the last of it for the grilled cheese, but just about any sort of real cheese would probably work as well or better - cheddar, Mexican blend, whatever.

Sarah's Tomato Taco Soup

1 box or can tomato soup (not condensed is probably preferable)

1 c. cooked, seasoned taco meat/onions

2-3 oz. shredded cheese

1/2 c. corn salsa

Extra taco seasoning (chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper), to taste

Tortilla chips for dipping

Begin by heating the soup, then add the other ingredients.  Stir until the cheese melts.  Season to taste.  Serve hot.