Why I blame Walmart for the lousy meals I've been serving lately

I served my family Hamburger Helper for dinner Wednesday night. To me, this is the equivalent of giving them garbage on a plate - full of chemicals with names I can't pronounce, let alone understand, completely devoid of any nutritional value, and chock full of fat and calories. Now don't get me wrong. I think it's ok to serve the occasional nutritionless meal, but I have been really struggling lately. Dinner time rolls around and the last thing I want to do is cook. Nothing ever sounds good to me, so I fight the urge EVERY SINGLE NIGHT to drive to Papa Murphy's and grab a pizza that I know everyone will like and will require minimal effort to prepare. Unfortunately, our budget doesn't really allow for that kind of extravagance, and then you have the whole fat/calories issue.

I was pretty good about menu planning before this last month or two. I would come up with a list of meals for the week, make my grocery list accordingly, and head off to Walmart for the grand shopping expedition. And there, my friends, is the rub. I can't do Walmart anymore. I know, I know - some of you are cringing and wondering why I would shop there anyway. Yes, we've seen the documentary about the evils of the retail giant, but we decided that the savings outweighed the accusations against the place and have continued shopping there. But my last Walmart trip just about did me in. I'm not kidding you - I was so exhausted by the time we were done that I could barely push the shopping cart to the car. This pregnancy is wearing me out already!

So if I were sticking to my usual shopping regimen, I would have the ingredients in my house for a meal or two at supper time. Even if nothing sounded good, I could force myself to cook and by the time it was ready, I'd be able to sit down and eat with my family. But I've been avoiding that oversized store like the plague, so I have nothing in my fridge or cupboards, and I'm forced to get creative (not in a good way), or head to the store for ingredients to whatever I can stomach.

There is a delightful alternative to Walmart just around the corner from my house. Oh sweet shopping bliss, thy name is Harmon's. I have never been in a store that made me quite so happy. The people who work at Harmon's are friendly and helpful. They offer a service they call "drive and load" which, although I don't use it much, is very helpful. They keep your groceries while you drive up to the special "drive and load" door, then you sit in your car while a nice boy loads everything in for you. The first time I used this service, they even gave me a little plastic garbage bag that fits over the cigarette lighter in my van. Isn't that sweet? The store is small enough that a trip to the dairy section in the back doesn't feel like a marathon, yet big enough to contain my every grocery desire. The meat is legendary for its quality, and the produce section is full of beautiful, unbruised and colorful fruits and veggies. (Not at all like picking through the bruised apples at that other store!) Everything is grand, until I start looking at the prices. Here's a little example for you. Velveeta at Walmart - $3.99. Velveeta at Harmon's - $6.99. (Please don't ask why I would ever purchase Velveeta. I promise my family won't all die of heart attacks at early ages.) I probably don't have to tell you that I just can't afford to do my regular grocery shopping at Harmon's.

So here's how we ended up eating Hamburger Helper for dinner. I went to pick up Tanner like I do every Wednesday night at 5:30. I had no idea what we were going to eat (a little late to still be clueless, don't you think?), so we stopped at Harmon's on our way home. (I allow myself to go there for small grocery runs because there's no such thing as a quick in-and-out at Walmart.) I allowed Tanner to decide what sounded good for dinner. Feeling disgusted with myself, I also grabbed the ingredients for two yummier and healthier dinners to finish off the week. I also picked up a yellow squash and a zucchini, which I served with the hamburger slop. Now maybe you don't think I'm quite so bad. And last night the menu included spinach and roasted red peppers in a parma rosa sauce, served over angel hair pasta, and salad with almonds, craisins, and feta cheese, topped with a delightful raspberry vinaigrette. There, have I redeemed myself?

Broken hearted

The dog was the cause of a casualty today. I didn't realize that Katelyn left her stuffed unicorn outside last night. (Actually, it's a washable pony that you can draw on, but to her, it's a unicorn.) She got it from her aunt Shauna for Christmas, and she really loved it. So you can imagine her sadness when she realized that this:

had turned to this:

She came running inside crying, and said in the saddest voice ever, "Mom, I left my unicorn outside, and it exploded!" I have to admit, I was pretty curious. It didn't occur to me at first that the dog had gotten to it. And it was really hard not to laugh, because the term "exploded" put quite the picture in my mind. I ran outside with her to see what had happened, and her description was pretty accurate. I wanted to cry myself as my little girl gazed at the wreckage that was once her beloved unicorn and sobbed over the loss of her toy. It recalled similar feelings of loss that I experienced as a child. Oddly enough, nothing specific comes to mind, but I know that, just like any other kid, I went through this a million times. The feeling was so familiar.

Without sounding unsympathetic, I turned it into a lesson about leaving toys outside. But let me tell you, I really wanted to run straight to Walmart and replace the darned thing. Yes, she has a gajillion stuffed animals, and yes, she really needs to learn this lesson, but wouldn't it make her so happy to get a bright shiny new unicorn? After all, that's what I would have wanted as a child. I think my resolve to not get ANY MORE STUFFED ANIMALS was what really kept me from getting her a new one. Guess I'm not really as nice as I thought.

We're having a baby boy! OK, if you live anywhere near me, you know that I've had this information for weeks now. (Thank you to those of you who've inquired about my well-being during my long blogging absence.) I am so lucky to have a husband in radiology. I got to find out the sex of our baby in week 14! In the past, my doctor has always made me wait until week 20. Really, knowing that the baby's a boy hasn't changed my behavior in the slightest, except maybe that I've had good reason to not buy all of the cute little spring dresses I oooh and aaah over at this time of year. Oh, and I spend a lot of time trying to think of boy names, to no avail. We have not come up with a single name that both of us really like. Good thing we've got so much time.....

So, to answer some of your questions, and to seem totally self-absorbed, here's an update. I feel great! I feel better than I ever have at this stage of pregnancy. With my past pregnancies, I've vomited from week 8 to week 40. It's been over a week now since my last....well, you know. I have to thank my hubby for his role in this. He wrote me a prescription for Zofran, which is my favorite anti-nausea. (I still get a little thrill when I see his name on my pill bottle!) Now when I start to feel that icky, spinny, excess saliva in my mouth feeling, I pop a pill. I think this works for my body and my mind, tricking me into not being sick. I have to say that I took Zofran the entire time I was pregnant with Katelyn and it did NOT work this well. I could rarely go a day without worshipping the porcelain goddess back in that fun 9 month period. So hopefully I'll just be less sick with each pregnancy.

I guess that's enough sick talk. I'm so thankful to be feeling good again! Of course, I'm still a paranoid pregnant woman. I started worrying that I haven't been able to recognize any movement yet, so when I was at the hospital to have some blood tests done on Wednesday, John took me into an ultrasound room and we peeked at the baby. He's just fine! He was putting his cute little hand up to his face and moving all over the place. On Thursday night I thought I could feel some little somersaults. I think they were real, because I've been feeling more - it's getting to be that time of pregnancy.

So about the boy thing.....I really thought I wanted a girl. To tell you the truth, I felt a little cheated at our first ultrasound (at 8 weeks) when there was only one fetus. I really thought I'd get to have twins to make up for how long it took to get this baby. I know, not only is that selfish, but I highly doubt that I have the skills to deal with twins, especially with my other kids being 2 and 4! Anyway, I was hoping for a girl so I could get out all of the little dresses and pink everythings. But once the idea of a boy settled in my mind, it really makes sense. Carter will have a little boy closer to his age to play with. The baby will be pretty far apart from Katelyn in age anyway, so she can wait for a sister, although she's made me promise that she'll get one someday. I hope I can keep that promise! Now Katelyn has a lot of pressure on her because she's the only girl. I decided, subconsciously at first, that if I only had one girl, she'd have to be super girly. I realized I was feeling this way when she was wearing a dress for no reason for the third day in a row. I even made her a little spring dress (pictures to come) this week. We're going to have fun being the only girls in the family for a while! And I'm excited for my little boy.