Brain Farts & Noodle Bakes

Please tell me I'm not the only one who struggles with their brain sometimes. I sometimes wonder how I'm still able to function AND keep two kids alive with this paperweight between my ears.

Was I always this way and just didn't notice? Or did my brain cells slowly become fried from incessant repetition and bedtime rituals?

I have no idea.

It's not like I would remember, anyway.

Today was a particularly brain-dead day, I'm afraid. And it just so happened to coincide with the evening I was scheduled to feed the missionaries. I'm pretty sure the Lord has a superb sense of humor.

Since I had just run out of meal plan food {click HERE for more information on my meal plan ritual}, I decided that it might be wise to go to the store this morning. 19-year-old male missionaries seem to like actual edible food, not dried beans or make-believe felt cookies. I grabbed my folder where I've been storing the shopping lists for my meal plans (pre-made shopping lists, you guys! Why did it take me so long to figure that out?!} and jotted down what I needed.

While I was busy doing that, my kids were busy arguing about who got to take what toy in the car. And, of course, they didn't have their shoes on. And Hannah's hair looked like she stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Repeatedly.

I put their shoes on, tamed Hannah's wild mane, and mercifully found my keys. We were in a hurry, ya see, because our friend invited us over for a play-date later that morning and I REALLY needed some mom-time.

"Let's get in the car, you guys! We're kind of trying to hurry, here. No, you don't need to take that toy. Because it's the size of Zoe. Put it down. Are you seriously taking your blanket? It's going to be 94 degrees today. Okee-dokee. Have fun with that.
"How did you already mess up your hair? You know what?. . . never mind. Just get in the car.
No, not that car. That's daddy's Jeep. We're not taking the Jeep. Because I said so. GET IN THE CAR!"

Yeah. I needed some mom time.

I looked around in my purse for the list that I had just barely made and couldn't find it. I ran back into the house, expecting it to be on the counter. Nope. It was gone.

I looked everywhere and couldn't find it.

That was my first hint that maybe, just maybe, I should just stop while I was ahead.

But, no.

{source}

While standing in the produce section, it occurred to me that I had inadvertently scheduled an eye exam in South Jordan 45 minutes before the missionaries were due over. That ain't gonna fly. I called them up while trying to keep my kids from taking bites out of every single apple and rescheduled it for the next day.

I know my faulty brain well enough to remember that if I don't put an appointment in my phone, it won't happen. So I dutifully put the rescheduled appointment in my calendar as soon as I hung up. Unfortunately, I rescheduled the appointment smack dab in the middle of my private violin students tomorrow.

On days like today, I can practically hear the gears grinding in my head. Somethin' ain't working right up there, folks. Good thing I married a fix-it man. ;)

The play date went smoothly, but when it came time to start dinner for the missionaries, things went downhill fast. For starters, my husband warned me that he might be working late {for those unfamiliar with LDS missionary rules, one of them is that the Elders can't come into your home unless there's an adult male there, too}.

For reasons unknown, my brain didn't think that was worth freaking out about until, like, 3:40 pm. The missionaries were scheduled to come over at 5:00 pm. I leaped onto the ward's Facebook page and asked for the missionaries' phone number. I'm just impressed that I remembered how to log on in my mental state.

Long story short, I was busy trying to communicate with them via text while simultaneously cooking dinner because I forgot to start it soon enough. It wasn't going to be done until 5:30 pm at the earliest. As I was frantically gathering my ingredients, I realized that I needed to double my recipe and I didn't have enough tomato sauce.

Son of a gun.

It's always the tomato sauce's fault.

My post-child brain was, like, "Well, we might not have another can of tomato sauce, but we have tomato soup. It's pretty much the same thing."

It was then that my once-intelligent consciousness face-palmed it. However, beggars can't be choosers and it eventually conceded defeat. "Yup. It's gonna have to do."

Meanwhile, Hannah was singing at the top of her lungs right under my feet. Curtis was running around the living room, flapping his arms in a mild panic because his band-aid fell off AGAIN (he got stitches a week ago). They were both demanding milk because it was obvious that I wasn't busy trying to do anything else.

I got them milk and pleaded with them to sit at the table.

Quietly.

Is that too much to ask?!

You see, my brain gets super flustered when there's a lot of noise and commotion, and I could feel my multi-tasking skills becoming drained by the minute.

By this time, it was about 4:45 pm. I didn't even have dinner CLOSE to done. Chuck was no where NEAR off of work. Hannah then spilled her cup full of milk all over the table and bench.

"Everybody, get in the car. We're getting the missionaries some pizza. Nope, you don't need shoes. Let's go."

Please bless the person who decided to build a "Little Caesar's" 5 minutes from my house. May happiness rain down on them all the days of their life.  

This, my friends, is what the missionaries were going to eat before my brain decided to vacation in the Bahamas. You should make it! It's yummy.

By the way, is it bedtime yet?

4 c. egg noodles
1 lb. ground beef
4 T. onion, chopped
2 cans of tomato sauce
1/2 t. sugar
1/4 t. EACH salt, garlic salt, pepper
4 oz. cream cheese, softened
1/2 c. small curd cottage cheese
2 T. green onion, chopped
2 T. green pepper, chopped
2 T. sour cream
Parmesan cheese, shredded

Preheat oven to 350. Cook noodles until al dente. Meanwhile, cook beef and onion until meat is no longer pink and onion is tender {NOTE: if you don't want crunchy green peppers in your noodles, add them with the onions and cook until tender}. Stir in tomato sauce, sugar, and seasonings. In a small bowl, stir together cream cheese, cottage cheese, green onion, green pepper {if you didn't cook it with the meat}, and sour cream.

Drain noodles and place 1/2 in a greased 9x13 pan. Spoon 1/2 of the meat mixture on top, then layer with the cream cheese mixture. Top with remaining noodles, then cover with remaining sauce mixture. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese. Cover and bake for 20 minutes.