nutshell

2011-03-28T16:40:00.003-04:00

2010-12-15T20:18:00.003-05:00

William is three months old today and I couldn't be more thrilled.

One, he has begun to smile a lot and sometimes, if I work hard enough, he will laugh out loud. It sounds like a seal got stepped on. But a cute seal.

And two, He has officially slept through the night for two nights in a row. I don't want to get too excited, but the thought of going to sleep with confidence and without fear of waking up ten minutes later is just too good to be true.

His favorite songs are Wee Willy Winky and The Alphabet Song. Not that he really has a choice, it's pretty much all I sing to him. (with the occasional "I Feel Pretty" thrown in. Don't ask)

Every kid had their specific songs. Poor Shannon, I don't remember singing to her much, she was always crying. Dan got to hear the Irish Lullaby and Katie got the first few lines of "Little Bird" from The Fiddler on the Roof. (I forgot the rest of the song) Also I would sing Bicycle Built for Two but I put in "Katie" in place of "Daisy."

I should have done the Alphabet Song with all of them. Would've saved me the grief of teaching letters in Kindergarten. Plus it's easy to sing. You don't need to hear my rendition of I Feel Pretty. It's not.

Shannon calls the baby "Goochie". As in: (squeally baby voice) "Oh, let me see that baby Goochie oh he's so cute what have you been doing today are you pooping what a good boy you are soooo cute!!!"

I brought Katie to the doctor today to once and for all try to fix this skin problem she has. It turns out she has a staph infection from eczema. I was positive it was an allergy to milk but I suppose not. She's on antibiotics and a cream so hopefully it will clear up soon. And now we can give her chocolate again. I think that was harder for me than her.

Christmas is ten days away and I'm almost ready. Except that Daniel believes in Santa fiercely and is positive that he will be receiving a Lego train set. These are $100 and up so I'm trying to gently tell him that even Santa has a price cap.

Katie wants a Rudolph stuffed toy. That's my girl. I used to love Rudolph so much that I would pretend the big round red light at the back of the school bus marking the emergency exit was Rudolph's nose. I was not a normal kid.

Shannon has asked for Squinkies for Christmas. These are little obnoxious collectible toys. I hope this gathering toys stage will be gone next year. But at least it's an easy thing to get and relatively cheap. Not like last year's Zhu Zhu pet drama. I haven't seen that much demand for an essentially useless toy since Cabbage Patch Kids. (but I'll admit I wanted one of those)

Tomorrow is the kids' Christmas concert at school. Tim is working, so I will be bringing Katie and William to see it on my own. Wish me luck!

2010-11-28T11:08:00.011-05:00

Just pictures.

2010-09-20T20:30:00.005-04:00

William was born last Wednesday morning at 5:28.
Thankfully there was an epidural involved. Why some choose to not get these suckers is beyond me, I've always said they should be mandatory.

And prompt.

It felt like everyone was moving in slow motion as I breathed away another excruciating contraction, while the staff "patiently" waited for the inconvenience to end so they could get my mother's maiden name down in their records.

Really? Seriously? And while I'm on the subject of "seriously" I'd like to share a de'ja vu story that involves Tim. Sorry hon, but I gotta tell it.

As we neared the hospital, my contractions were getting strong enough that I couldn't talk through them. I had been saying something to Tim when I abruptly grabbed the handle-thingie above the door and started breathing like I had asthma. I must have been chatting away because Tim seized the moment to ask me whether he should drop me off at the er or at the front door.
And I mustered the strength to kindly answer him " Really? Are you serious? You're gonna ask me a question now? My stopping MID-SENTENCE wasn't enough of a clue that right now is not a good time?
And it's exactly what happened when I was in labor with one of the other kids.

Now let me soften my teasing by stating that Tim has been wonderful these past few days, helping take care of the kids and taking on the mommy chores. He's shared my lack of sleep willingly and taken the kids mercifully out for periods of time. So thanks Tim, you rock.

Now on to another matter.
I know all newborn babies are "cute", (we all know they really look like aliens) but don't you think little Willie looks like a certain semi-obscure celebrity? (Paul Walker would be nice...)

One We've all seen in something but can only refer to him as "that guy from that movie"

It's Chris Cooper people. You know, Seabiscuit, Bourne Identity, The Horse Whisperer?? (no one seems to know this guy)

Admit it, all babies (ok my babies) all look like teeny old men.

No? Maybe I'm just delirious from exhaustion. I do think he's adorable, (Willie, not Mr. Cooper) but I'm a little biased.

2010-09-08T20:54:00.009-04:00

Goodbye cruel, record-breaking, sweltering, molten, yucky summer.

Thanks for being the hottest one in a gazillion years. This year in particular, the summer I'm pregnant.

We've managed to be miserable the whole time.

Never going out for fear we might melt into a slimy gooey puddle.

There was an occasional rare find that kept us interested in the great outdoors. I hadn't seen one of these slides since I was a kid.

And I never thought I'd see this kind of sight from my self-proclaimed "I'm an indoor kind of girl "

Daniel discovered a new obsession with trains.

But finally, the winds changed (for one day anyway) and we had a blessed day of cool.

With some sun.

And before I knew it, it was time for me to start getting used to a quiet house again.

Tomorrow is my due date.

We'll see how long the quiet lasts.

*last chance to put in name ideas, we are still not firm on anything yet, especially a middle name. And I'm still not entirely convinced it's a boy...*

2010-08-25T22:39:00.003-04:00

I'm in the homestretch now, only a couple of weeks left.
One of the phenomena that is commonly felt by very pregnant women is their belly getting so huge they can't see their feet anymore. I don't remember this ever being something I experienced with the other pregnancies, my problem was just that I couldn't bend over to put my shoes on any more.
But I always could at least see my feet, even if I couldn't reach em'.

We all remember the famous line from Star Wars (well ok, mom, you may not. But everyone else does) when Old Ben Kenobi mystically waves his hand at the troopers and says "These are not the droids you're looking for."

It's one of the first peeks at the power of the force.

I wish I could harness some of that Jedi mind-trick stuff and use it on myself.

Because every time I look down at these over-inflated flippers, I say to myself "These are not the feet you're looking for" and I wish I could experience that whole "I can't even see my feet now" thing.

These suckers can't be mine.
(I apologize for ailing you all with the nasty visual)

Tim took this a couple days ago and I couldn't be happier that my feet are cut off.

2010-08-06T21:37:00.003-04:00

When describing what it feels like to be 8 months pregnant,

two memorable movies come to mind.

Number one, the sci-fi flick Alien. Because I don't care how miraculous it is to grow a living thing inside of you, it's still a living thing inside of you poking and pushing it's way around so much a woman's belly can resemble a water balloon filled with angry gremlins.

And Ghostbusters, because the rest of her is about as happy and fluffy as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man waddling heavily through the streets of Chicago, (or is it NY?) happy and jolly on the outside, but ready to stomp on the next person who says how cute she looks.

Trust me, angry gremlins in your tummy and feet as big as Michelin tires do not feel "cute".

But please feel free to tell her how her lovely glow (sweat and acne) really emphasizes her femininity (robust curves). Just make sure you are offering a hot fudge mint chocolate chip cheesecake sundae with a warm chocolate pop tart on top while you say it.

2010-07-23T23:13:00.015-04:00

Upfront warning: This post will have many more pictures than words because I am thoughtless (as in without thoughts) and lazy.

I'm so happy we seem to be able to make it to the Hemlock Fair every year.

It's been nice to see the kids grow out of their fear of rides. (Though Katie never exhibited this trait)

They all love to go on these rickety portable death traps, and I love that you pay one rate at the door (or not in our case, thanks to a very nice family friend with connections) and can ride unlimited rides.

And here at Hemlock, not only are there rides but there are plenty of farm animal competitions to entertain and educate the suburban families who live so close to cow country, but still don't really understand where milk comes from.

I love sheep.

So uncluttered with stress and worry.

So oblivious to our world's economic and sociopolitical problems. (I'm just trying to sound impressive, is sociopolitical even a word? Maybe I mean political and socioeconomic)

I like to watch them wander around their pens, bumping into each other, not even caring about the oil spill or Haiti relief.

But my favorite moment is when they open up their mouth, look up and bleat like "c'mon people, feed me!"

Or maybe it's actually "I'm bored, get me away from these stupid gawking city people so I can end world hunger."

Either way, would somebody explain this to me? Because apparently these two have decided to take take matters into their own hooves and stop the madness as Wonder Twin Powers superheroes.

As is customary every year we attend this event, we choose to go on the day there is a monsoon.

But in denial, we kept plugging through the rides and food, ignoring the ominous skies.

Ha Ha Ha! Mommy, is that a twister behind you?

Naw, that's just some black clouds and green skies and eerie silence. Now hang on to something sturdy.

Fortunately, we were already safe in a nice spacious building, eating happily when the torrential downpour hit.

And we stayed up waaay past bedtime.

But it was well worth it.

2010-07-19T21:40:00.005-04:00

The moons and stars and constellations and universe and Elvis must have been aligned because last week, I was lucky enough to get away from disgusting children's bodily functions and visit here.
Even if ever so briefly, I had a glimpse back to the pre-children days. No feeding bottomless pits, no whining, no fighting, no noise.

Such a nice time spent with other adults. (never mind the two young'uns, they were very well behaved and more importantly, NOT MINE to worry about)

Relaxing.

Except not so much when sharing a pull out bed with this sibling. No complaints from me though, the bruises I received for being an obnoxious little sister and not letting her get any sleep were well worth the time spent away from home.

Because all too soon, the house will sound like this again.

Though I am really excited about the baby, I'll keep this little mini vacation in the front of my memory as my go-to Calgon place of peace and tranquility.

2010-07-12T15:07:00.007-04:00

Let me just vent a little here and sum up the past two days and explain why my boy, who is usually the one to give me the most trouble is for once, not at fault in any way and my angelic girls are responsible for my slow road to madness.

Yesterday I decided to take the kids to the beach. Just to get them out of the house while it was still only hot as opposed to sweltering. Now I love going places, but I really didn't want to do this.

Tim needed to be sleeping as his new work schedule has him working crazy hours so he was unavailable for help. Also did I mention it was hot? Not melt your face off humid, but hot.

So after what felt like an hour's worth of preparation, (pack toys, eat, potty, water bottles, sunscreen, etc... don't forget the potty part, cause that's important.) we left for the beach.

Nice shady spot, not too much seaweed, perfect.

20 minutes later, Katie ran to me grabbing her butt and saying "potty, ma ga go potty!"

I say "But you went before you left! You can't have to go! I made sure! What is it? Do you have to pee or poop?" (as if that made any real difference--I'm not sure if I have the patience or even want to teach my child how to pee in the water, but we just got there and even I wasn't ready to leave.)

She was grabbing her behind so that answer was obvious. "Are you sure? Because I made sure you already went before we left?!"

*more butt grabbing, then the smell hit and I knew it wouldn't be pretty*

At this point, I did what any normal clean sane person would scoff at but I am not normal anymore. I was alone, hot, hormonal and pregnant. I took her into the lake and washed her out a little while the happy beach goers looked on in what I am sure was utter disgust. (I like to pretend they didn't know what I was doing thanks to my swift and stealthy cleaning skills) I just did a quick once-over, and then we headed back to the van. By the time we reached the van, she had pools of poop and lake water running down her legs. Pretty. She was a trooper though and didn't even bat an eye when we got home and I wouldn't let her in the house. A quick hose down and we were ready for lunch and maybe some sprinkler time afterwards.

Doesn't she poop again in her freshly washed bathing suit during sprinkler time?!

Today.

I take Shannon and Daniel to daddy's second job to get his schedule and hopefully his pay check. (got the schedule, but due to the stupid law or something, I can't get his check for him.)

While there, Shannon complains a bit about a sore tummy. I didn't think much of it, she says that any time she has gas or is hungry or is bored.

You see where this is going. Now when I was a kid, I can't even count how many times I threw up in the car. Poor mom, she never complained and I never realized what a pain it is cleaning upholstery in a confined space.

In 95 degree and humid weather.

In the cramped backseat.

Pregnant. (ok mom wasn't ever pregnant when she had to clean up my messes but I'm still going to play that card as much as possible)

How did this kid manage to get it all over the seat, the belt, her brother's seat, the seat in front of her, the back of the seat in front of Daniel, and the doorway??

Another hose down.

And as I type this, I hear her making a noise I can only hope is because she is watching someone get kissed on tv and is embarrassed and not because she is getting sick again. Because it's the same noise. A squeaky little smushed mousy sort of a noise. And I can't tell the difference.

I don't tend to ask God for specific things like I need more spending money or please send me some babysitters stat, but this time, I'm asking. Please let me be able to go away for a couple days to the lovely cottage on the lake that I've been hoping to be able to go to. (work schedules and jury duty have made this possibility shaky and very last minute)

I promise to come back home. (maybe)

2010-07-10T00:25:00.006-04:00

Though you wouldn't know it from looking at the usual state of our house, I am sometimes a bit overly particular and a smidgen of a control freak when it comes to the cleanliness or even pick-upped-ness of our home. Let me stress, this place is never fully clean and I am not a germ maniac and given the choice between dusting and napping, I'll always choose a snooze. But after I have been cooped up for periods of time, I tend to get a little bonkers and maybe go a little wacky about the small stuff.

I have been known to threaten extreme consequences if I see crumbs on the floor or jelly caked on the table or "Do you have to get the play doh out today? Really? Because I just vacuumed." You'd think being from an artsy sort of background, I would be more tolerant (encouraging even) of a child's creative initiative.

Not so much really.

When the kids ask to paint or to play with the moon sand, I don't see imaginative little minds hard at work, I see crusty paint blobs on the underside of the chairs and teeny tiny bits of "sand" coating our dining room table. (that stuff is the devil's creation-nothing gets it all up except repeated contact with human limbs, like say while trying to eat a meal and you lean over to pass the potatoes and when you sit back up you realize your arm is coated in a fine layer of minuscule sand particles much like the ineffective abrasive scrub used to remove the crayon marks on your six year old's wall. Not only does the crayon not come off, but the wall is now covered in a sticky sandpaperish substance immune to water and washcloths)

I should have known better when, while down in the only place I can have a phone conversation and actually hear who I'm talking to, things got quiet upstairs. Then I heard sort of rolling /banging noises on the floor up there. "Oh, they're just playing with the trains." I thought. At least nobody's crying or anything.

My first clue should have been Katie at the bottom of the basement stairs, playing with the shop vac and clutching a wet paint roller.
"Why is this wet honey?"
"Because we ceening wif it"
"Oh, that sounds nice..."

As I reached the top of the stairs, I could hear Shannon in the living room, prancing around and singing happily. She was dusting everything with the feather duster. Which we just bought for the kids to play with anyway, so no biggie. Except that she was dusting things like the stove and the table top, and I kept imagining microscopic dust mites all over our food, but whatever.

"Wow, are you cleaning? Nice job."

Daniel was a bit more adventurous.

Nervously entering the kitchen, I saw that the floor was soaking wet. "Wha... haape..." I squeaked out and as I panned the room, I found 3 bowls full of water placed on the floor each with a disintegrated paper towel in them, a sopping wet paint roller (you know, the thick kind for textured walls?) and Daniel in the living room clutching a sad wad of saturated paper towels, wiping all the picture frames with it.

"Aren't you proud of us mommy? Can we have a dollar now? For cleaning up so well?"

"Yes kids, nice job! Wow! You guys did this all by yourself? Great!"

"Just let mommy teach you how to clean next time." I say calmly through clenched teeth with all my will power as I mop up the soggy dog/cat fur clumps on my hands and knees.

Could have been worse. At least they only used water right?

2010-07-05T20:50:00.009-04:00

A moment of silence for the slow and (quite pain-free actually) cruel death of my blog.

That's about the only moment EVER that anyone will see all 3 kids with their mouths closed. Goonies, I mean Ultimate Cake Off must have been on.

Well, I have more important things to say, so [sing it] "Overture, curtain lights! This is it. The night of nights. And oh what heights we'll hiiit... On with the show this is it!"

When I was little, I hated the water. Swimming lessons were not helpful. Stick my head underwater? Are you kidding? Jump off the diving board into the deep shark infested end and yeah right, sure you'll catch me. I don't think so.

So when my kids hesitate around water, I don't really push too much. Unfortunately they've inherited my fear of all those unknown critters that lurk in the water (especially lake water) and they have not yet shown signs of their daddy's ease in the marine world. And he used to be one of those awful teenage swim instructors that coaxed little ones to their certain death by claiming to "catch" them after they jumped. We all know they never catch you. It's part of the "I'll just throw you in the water and THEN you'll HAVE to swim techniques. I'm not a fool. I never bought it and now my kids don't either.

This concerns me. The youngest one was the first to actually get in the eel-infested water and the first to show no hesitation about getting on one of those aqua motorcycle thingies.

There's my girl. Completely dry and very aware that the creature from the black lagoon is alive and well.

What? Now who can I count on to keep me company far far away from that awful seaweed which we all know is actually the evil spawn of the Loch Ness Monster trying to snatch ignorant yet arrogant little swimmers to the depths of the bottomless lake?

He's the man.

2010-06-11T09:44:00.002-04:00

I think every parent has days when one child is more of a favorite than the others. Maybe they did well in school, maybe they shared without prompting, maybe, (wonder of wonders) they even ate their dinner without squawking about it being yucky or smelling gross.

I do not expect such grandiose accomplishments from my own children, I know that asking for too much can lead to disappointment and I'd rather be over the moon when they remember to wipe themselves after going potty.

But when my son came home from school with this project, I nearly swooned from happiness.

It says:

"My mom's name is Mary."

"She is 23 years old." (That's where he earns the brownie points)

"She is 8 feet tall." (also, not bad, I'll take it)

But here's where he gets a little more daring.

"On sunny days, Mom likes to nap."

I suppose I can't blame his honesty. But he redeems it with:

"I love her because she gives me hugs."

By Daniel

I guess I'll forget about the gigantic home-dug pit in our backyard and the time he covered every inch of the girls' room (and his baby sister) in baby powder.

For now.

2010-05-25T23:16:00.006-04:00

Oh great Pioneer Woman, why must you be so cruel?

First you post a picture of this.

Which inspires me to make a second trip to Wegman's in one day just to get the right stuff to make this marvelous work of dessertship.

Then I spend gratuitous amounts of time (I'm sure would have otherwise been spent doing excessive laundry, dusting and molecular science) attempting to duplicate such a lovely creation.
And the result is this very suspicious substance.

The brownie part is really good, when you peel off the stretchy elastic caramel layer.

But peeling off caramel is just not an activity that should be humanly possible.

2010-05-17T21:58:00.007-04:00

I don't remember my first communion much. I was probably nervous about having to do something that real live people were going to be watching and (horrors) taking pictures of.

How stressful.

But if that was how I felt, I know I remember that at least I liked wearing the dress. The veil not so much, (headbands are never comfortable) but the outfit felt special.

This was taken right before we left for the supercrowded overstimulating ceremony. It's the nicest shot I could get. Or at least the most sincere. The others look like I'm forcing her to smile while swallowing worms.

I thought I planned ahead. I had her try on the dress several times, (which I picked out since she wanted to spend zero time online shopping in the scary basement. Fine by me I thought) to make sure it fit ok. I knew it was too tight in the shoulders, but the alternative was to send it back for a larger size and an even heftier charge for shipping and stuff.

And we decided to go with too big rather than too small for the shoes. Smart right?

No.

It wasn't.

And I made the headband so I give her that one. The stubborn thing just wouldn't stay up. Though how could it when she wouldn't stop fussing with it? But all these factors coupled with a hot crowded church and a sensitive girl make a very unhappy 8 year old.

Halfway through the mass, I looked over at her to find the paper I used to stuff in her shoes to make them fit was shredded in her hands and all over the seat.
And she was crying.
What am I supposed to do? Wave my magic wand and make it all fit right instantly?
Poor first kid. They're always the most screwed up one.

But oh, the power of a Happy Meal.
Now that's magic.

She knows she is only going to wear this a moment longer.

This lovely dress I fell in love with and would wear myself if I could.

Katie's doomed. It is her destiny to wear it too and if it doesn't fit, I'll make it fit.

But poor Daniel.

What's wrong buddy? Just because you have been acting grumpy the whole day and I kept saying cut it out, you're not getting out of church on a Saturday for pretending to be sick
and I refuse to feel sorry for you.

C'mon, just smile once will ya?

And then, about three hours later, he threw up.

I'm a terrible, terrible mother.

2010-05-10T20:27:00.004-04:00

Every year for Mother's Day, all I want is for Tim to cook me dinner.

And every year, something else comes up.

Plans change, life happens, and after 12 years of marriage, (well, I should only count the 8 years I have been a mother) Tim has always gotten off the hook for one reason or another.

This year, I got my wish.

Now one might guess that a person such as my husband may not be capable of "cooking" and that I should prepare myself for something frozen or some sort of pasta, undercooked and sticky.

I did. That's why I requested a No Pasta rule to begin this tradition. And this WILL be a tradition. Tim made the most delicious, moist and wonderful meal I've had in a long time and I'm ashamed to say I was surprised it came out so well. He cooked marinated chicken out on the grill. And since the last time we used that thing was years ago when we found a family of cute little mice in it, the memory of grilled deliciousness was long gone.

AND Italian bread. AND a salad. AND he set the table AND cleared it AND he did the dishes.

Now many people may be lucky enough to think "What's the big deal? My husband cooks all the time. Grilling isn't really cooking anyway." But this particular husband has been known to have to ask what kind of kitchenware to use to cook Kraft macaroni and cheese in and to get out a 2 quart saucepan to fry up some eggs. So to be simply impressed with his accomplishment is an understatement.

I savored this meal like it was my last.

Which it won't be. Because I've upped the stakes. Every year he has to top the last. His only condition was that on Father's Day, I change the oil in the car.

Leave the kids with Daddy for what will surely turn into hours of trying to decide which magazine to peruse while the nice mechanic fits us in his busy schedule?

Sound like a plan.

2010-05-04T22:17:00.004-04:00

I've been taking a closer look at myself and my mothering skills with Mother's Day looming ever closer.

Am I as patient as I should be? Will my explosive temper be what my family remembers the most?

Am I as fun as I think I am? Or am I a boring fuddy duddy who's always too tired to play?

Do I prepare meals that will be remembered fondly by my children and someday they'll try desperately to duplicate them but they just can't seem to get it right?

Do I do everything I can to make sure my kids are safe and make wise choices?

Like not staying out in the sun without sunscreen?

Apparently not.

It must be genetic.

2010-04-26T20:20:00.004-04:00

Even though my dreams of sugar and spice and everything nice are now shot, at least he's cute.

For now.

Anyone have any name ideas? We need a backup and a middle name since I have been busy making girlie plans for a girlie room because I was positive that was what we were having. And I have left boys names in the dust under the scientific assumption that "it just feels like a girl" so why brainstorm things like Joe and Bob when there are names like Vanessa and Rebbecca out there?

I'll tell you why.

Because I like to think I'm one of those people with intuition and a sixth sense and even though I can't remember who the secretary of state is, at least I can psychoanalyze why hoarders bury themselves alive in books and vases and containers and ridiculous purses and silk flowers (seriously?) and just stuff and tell the difference between a boy and a girl in my belly.

Don't ever ask me for advice, I'm wrong a lot.

2010-04-20T22:32:00.011-04:00

A week ago this little thing celebrated her 4th birthday.

Or was it 10 days ago? Coulda been a month. I dunno.

"I don't know what time of year it is.

I don't know what day it is. All I know is [singing and clapping] I don't know anything, I never did know anything, but now I know what I don't know all on a Christmas morning. I must stand on my head..."

Sorry.

Obscure movie lines just jump right in there in my head with no warning.

That particular one is in there pretty often.

I've been breaking out into song and dance in my head a lot lately.

It's my way of coping with stress.

Or maybe I've been watching too much Glee and Dancing with the Stars and now my sense of reality has gone with the wind. Is that even a musical? Is that even a good movie? What's the big deal? Every time I try to watch it I fall asleep.

And I dream I'm Maria singing "I Feel Pretty".

Maybe for the sake of this post I should put Happy Birthday back in my head and shake the sillies out of the rest of my consciousness.

And maybe I'll get my own Pillow Pet while I'm at it.

They're really soft and comfy.

And conducive to channeling my strong inner Flashdance chick. Whatever her name was.

2010-04-06T20:16:00.008-04:00

Easter weekend.

Full of merriment and laughter and candy.

And this questionable character.

Is he going to really hide the eggs for the joy and delight of the children or did he have some dark sinister plan like filling them with creepy crawlers or worse...vegetables! The broken down shed in the background doesn't help his tainted image. (it's the neighbor's)

Looks like he decided to hide them.

I think we spent more time hiding those plastic little nightmares (they're all over the house right now) than it took those punks to find them. Why can't they clean up
the living room with this enthusiasm?

"Cause the living room isn't filled with candy, mom. DUH!"

Everyone is happy until they discovered what was for dessert.

You know how sometimes a person may try to cover up a mistake by just saying screw it and making tons more happy accidents on top of the first one? That's my excuse. Once I realized that I didn't have enough frosting, (the cake crumbs were very uncooperative)I tried to cover it all up with sprinkles and candy and piping, you know, to take your eye off the decapitated head on a chopping block and it's gross facial disfigurement.

How do I know what a rabbit's cheeks look like? Do they even have cheeks? What's going on there?

The kids loved it anyway so all's well...

For Katie's birthday I'm making a ladybug cake.

Can't wait to annihilate that one too.

2010-03-31T08:28:00.004-04:00

My absence can be blamed on many things. A nasty cold, laziness, too much new tv to watch, facial pain from the cold, (that was strange-never had that before) napping, and most importantly, it's spring time and the state of our basement is on high arachnid alert. I think (pray) I killed the biggest one yet yesterday. You never know with spray what happens to them after they limp off to a dark corner. Probably building an army.

I made the best meal ever yesterday. It's not from PW's book, but it is her recipe. I may have even mentioned it before. Ranch Style Chicken. Make it with potatoes and beans. It's about a million calories, that's why the beans are important. It takes all the guilt away.

One of Dan's homework assignments was to write the sentence "Dad sat in the sun."

First he wrote "Dad sat on the sun." And he was determined that that was more correct because how can you possibly sit in the sun?

After I explained to him that while that may be so true, especially when speaking about a human's proximity to the hottest celestial body in the universe, we needed to write the sentence as it says in the directions.

Then he wrote some words squished together at a severe diagonal angle because the lines I drew for him were now erased. So I made him try again, emphasizing the need for spaces.

Then he wrote "Dad is in the sun" with huge spaces. Funny.

I think we finally got it right. But only after I pretended what he did was amusing. Such a boy.

2010-03-22T21:00:00.004-04:00

"I'm going off the rails on a crazy train"

I'll start with what just happened to me.

I got a live action version of the Little Miss Muffet nursery rhyme and I'll admit, I wasn't going to sit down at this computer again till I rewrote the story with a much more violent ending involving machine guns and WOMD.

After I settled for a wimpy paper towel and nerves that almost sent me into my first full blown panic attack, I'm back.

I really am losing my mind. I had a fantastic story involving a conversation I had with Daniel that I was going to retell in true campfire fashion and all I remember about it now is that it took place in front of the oven.

Also, I'm forgetting thoughts as I'm having them. I'm so easily distracted that even now, all I can think about is the diabolical way that spider lowered itself down from the ceiling right next to me. What if it chose to land on my head? How long would it be up there, probably building a vacation home, before I realized it's existence and was sent to the er after severe convulsions and flailing.

I made my 38th recipe from Pioneer Woman's cookbook today. Edna Mae's Sour Cream Pancakes. To call these "pancakes" is a little inaccurate. These were delicious, but they tasted more like sour cream and eggs than flapjacks. Not that I'm complaining. A person can get really sick of pasty floppy IHOP fare. (but not if there's chocolate chips in them)

I think I'll go burrow in my safe arachnid-free bed with the covers over my head now.

2010-03-17T20:17:00.010-04:00

Despite having an extensive mixture of nationalities in our blood, Mom always made sure we were aware of our strong Irish background. St. Patrick's Day was of course the best day of the year to demonstrate our heritage proudly. I now know that the Irish dye their mashed potatoes a murky greenish-yellowish hue and they must wear green somewhere on their body every day, especially their holiday.

Also, above all else, the smell of cabbage is infused into their homes and selves because that's the only vegetable that will go with the corned beef staple for dinner. And shamrock shaped cut-out cookies are the only acceptable dessert. (I'm sure Guinness must be in there somewhere but mom hid that one pretty well.)

So now I continue to teach my kids our "Irish" traditions, though I've foregone dying the potatoes green. (though maybe that would get them to actually eat them) And I won't make any version of cabbage. But we did have corned beef, shamrock cut-outs, and shamrock shakes. So all in all, I think I'm doing a pretty good job of teaching my kids proper Irish history and tradition.

We made our first visit of the year to the nearby playground tonight. It's fantastic when the kids can run off and play with each other and with other kids that come by. My heart was warmed to hear Katie encouraging an older girl to play tag with them. I'm comfortable sitting on the bench, smiling at how wonderful it is for the noise to be so far away and I'm feeling very proud of my children when I hear him say it.

Dan. I was afraid of this. I heard it yesterday in our home and spoke to him about it but I knew it was only a matter of time before he started saying it in public.

Right in front of two lovely little kids and their mother, he said "Oh s---!"

Horror of playground horrors! I mean typically all we mothers have to deal with is making sure the kids share the swing or that they keep the wood chips on the ground. These are the understood sisterhood rules of the playground mommies.

But this. This is the big no no of proper playground etiquette and we breached it big time.

Well that's it. We had one good day at least. Time to start looking for another area to play at because word travels fast and now we'll be known as the family with "that kid that swears". Our reputation I've worked so hard at as "the family with three whole kids that never seem to fight and always leave without complaining" is shot. I'm so ashamed.

Despite Dan's desperate last ditch effort to cover up his mistake by saying he followed it up with the word "cow", he and I had a little talk. And though I'm responsible for him knowing this word, (he even used it in the right context) I think he's ready to let that be only a grown up word.

At least when I can hear him.

2010-03-12T22:56:00.003-05:00

Today I made PW's Flat Apple Pie. Why there exists a version of everything an apple pie is, just in a different shape, I don't know.

But I will be making regular 'ol apple pie from now on. Her crust recipe is fabulous and easy to work with. My crust always came out too dry to properly roll out but I can rarely bring myself to buy pre-made crust. I think it's against one of the Ten Commandments or something.

And the apple mixture was delicious too, just really runny. Which brings me to the reason why PW is an insane woman who gets her kicks out of inventing "easy" versions of beloved dishes that sound great on paper, but have a tendency to explode when tried at home.

In her version, the dough is rolled out into two circles with the apple guts placed in a pile in the center and the dough edges rustically draped around the outside. So you have two sloppy "pies". I don't mind the two pies or the messy rustic feel half as much as I mind the lovely way all the juice ran out onto the pan during the baking process, fusing the pie and the foil to the sheet in a gooey, globby mess not to mention running off the pan onto the bottom of the oven despite my sad tin foil efforts to prevent such a fiasco.

Then I had to figure out how to store the apple piles. I suppose in her house they get eaten up right there. Or even "on the go" as she puts it. That's a laugh. I tried to picture Tim grabbing a slice in his hand as he heads out the door and all I saw was him holding the mess in his shirt the way Vern and the boys held their "breakfast" in Stand By Me.

This tasted great, and I'll use the same recipe for a pie, but it's definitely a case of If it Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It.

I'll stick to pie shape in it's nice easy portable pie pan from now on.

2010-03-10T21:04:00.003-05:00

Fear not ye who have little faith in me. I'm not gone for good, I'm just really bored (or rather boring) lately and somehow making PW's cinnamon rolls for the 4,652nd time just doesn't seem interesting enough to post about.

These are the thrilling things I have to talk about.

I am officially the worst mother in the world because tonight, I introduced my kids to Beetlejuice with the insane idea that they wouldn't be so afraid of the boogieman if they thought it was funny. Dan didn't think it was funny. There is something really wrong with me.

Smack in the middle of some personal family stressful problems that I was sure would raise my blood pressure to a dangerous level, I had a Dr. appt. yesterday and I got to hear the baby's heartbeat. It was a nice bright spot for a particularly crazy day. I have my tell-all ultrasound in a month and a half. (my BP was good too)

I WILL make PW's flat apple pie this week. A good dose of pie crust can fix anything. That's where Tim and I really fit well together. He likes the insides of the pie and I like the crust. It's my excuse to just "have what he's having".

Daniel had a severe emotional reaction when Katie took apart his Legos to put them away. Is superglue a good idea?

The kids are now more socially active than mommy and daddy. The only time we get out is to take them to play dates and birthday parties. But then they're not in the house so that's really a good thing. I'm all socialized out.

Still waiting for that first kick. Not that I'm particularly looking forward to this pregnancy milestone. Being reminded that there is something living inside you is both miraculous and disgusting. I saw "Alien" when I was thwarted with morning sickness during my first pregnancy and well, that's really not a good movie to watch in that condition.

See? That's it. My life plods on like an old swaybacked mule. Or maybe a pony. Did I mention I like horses?

2010-03-02T22:32:00.004-05:00

Just two random, completely not related thoughts for today.

When I was little, I remember getting "Where the Wild Things Are" out of the library all the time. I liked the pictures of the monsters.

When it was made into a movie, I couldn't wait to see it but never got the chance till today.

I'd heard that one should watch it before showing it to your kids due to some sort of dark emotional themes that might scare little ones. So I did. While I'm glad I got to see it uninterrupted, I'm not sure where this hesitancy comes from.

This movie was made for kids from a kid's point of view. Just because it isn't another digitally perfect, well rounded, colorful, safe "UP" or "Cars" (both great movies too) doesn't mean kids won't get it. We need to give our children a little more credit than that.

One criticism was that the monsters are dealing with severe emotional disorders that only adults would understand and that kids might worry why the monsters were so unhappy all the time.

Each creature was a kid. Children feel everything unfiltered and so much more intensely. When it appears that kids are being so cruel to each other, (and sometimes I agree, they are) I think they are just figuring out who they are and how they handle things. These "Wild Things" are a reflection of how kids feel and would behave in a world without structure/parents. Think Lord of the Flies but much more fun and much less violent. This teaches a nice lesson about not taking family for granted without shoving the idea down your throat like so many other politically correct cartoons and programs for kids today.

I thought this movie was refreshing and artistic. (I loved that the creatures were just guys in costumes with only their facial expressions digitally enhanced. Beautifully too.) And I think that you'll either get it or you won't. But I do know that my kids have seen the first half of it and they love it.

Also, I'm pretty sure they modeled Max (crazy "wild thing" boy) after Daniel. Some parts made me feel like I was watching a home movie.

Second (much shorter and not nearly as profound--because the above stuff is about as deep as I get) thought:

Yoga Pants. Where have I been? A mom for eight years and I've only worn super-stylish track pants made out of that meshy stuff the guys wore in the eighties with cut-off sleeves to look sporty.

I sought out these so-called "mommy pants" today as I'm in that in-between stage where my usual uniform of belted jeans are now uncomfortable and maternity pants are ridiculously too big.

As Christopher Walken put it so well in The Continental: "Wow! Wowie wow wow!"

These suckers are great. Not only do they make my butt look good (at least to me, half twisted around in the mirror) but I don't have to fuss with a belt and zipper for the million times I am now using the facilities every day.

So, as Martha Stewart would say, Wild Things and Yoga Pants: they're good things.

2010-03-01T21:20:00.004-05:00

I'm having a bit of a flashback right now. As I sit here in the basement I can hear this movie playing on the IFC channel upstairs.

I'm listening to the classic lines of Monty Python and the Holy Grail just the way I heard them when I was first introduced to the movie.

Back in the 80's, before VCRs caught on, the only way to enjoy a show over and over was to hold the tape recorder up to the tv or radio and sit silently while your foot cramped up and you prayed you didn't have to go to the bathroom or that your cursing wouldn't be caught on tape when the phone rang.

At least that's how I did it.

My slightly more technologically advanced sister somehow knew how to hook up her tape player to stuff and so avoided the stifling your sneezes part.

She had a drawer full of tapes made this way. Musicals, shows, specials, all sorts of stuff. Most I thought were boring, but there were a few great ones. The music to Phantom of the Opera and the entire Monty Python/Holy Grail were my favorites. Though some parts don't translate well when not seen, (the banging coconuts as hoofbeats) I still thought it was hilarious and loved it even more when I finally saw the film.
From the thick "Knights who say NI" to the silly taunting frenchman to the "I'm not dead", every classic part makes me laugh every time I see it. Maybe if I close my eyes I can be 12 again picturing what I think the scenes must look like. The Black Knight one was almost exactly how I imagined it.

My morbid interests seem to have overflowed to my kids.

This was a conversation I had with Daniel today.

Dan-- "Mommy, I saw the invisible things in my room today."

Me-- "Really? What types of things do you see?"

"Invisible skeletons, invisible people, invisible white stuff..."

"White stuff?"

"Yeah, like invisible white things com' n at me. Like I can see them right now. They're all over the house."

*thinking the house needs dusting* "If they're invisible, how can you see them?"

"Well, I just do."

"Then they can't be that invisible if you can see them and describe them."

"Oh, but I can see them, they are all over the place and no one knows they're there except me."

Convenient. Maybe I should lay off the Michael Jackson "Thriller" video watching for a while. The kids love it and claim they are not scared by it but I remember just hearing the song and getting wigged out.

Vincent Price was creepy man.

2010-02-26T20:37:00.005-05:00

Every year around spring The Wizard of Oz is shown on tv. It has been for as long as I can remember.

What a time. Back then, (here I go again on my "I'm so old and the world just isn't the same" rant) when a program was on tv, it was a pretty big deal to make sure you were available to sit and watch the whole thing. There was no pausing for bathroom breaks or getting up to grab a salty snack unless it was a commercial. It was important to see as much of the show as possible because it wasn't going to be seen again for a whole year.
With my picture perfect short term memory, I'm curious how I retained any of these annual program events.

But they stuck. From the "I didn't know you were gonna kill it!" in the opening scene of The Great Pumpkin to the scariest scene (to me) from Oz, where the petrified lion runs crying down the hallway and jumps out the window, some scenes really stuck with me.

This is my childhood neighbor and (still) good friend Leah and me at our annual viewing of The Wizard of Oz together.

Like our matching jammies and my toes?

It must be the window scene.

Speaking of rainbows, I made these yesterday after being inspired (or copying rather) a recipe in a magazine. I just wanted to know if it would work because in my experience, nothing made at home from a magazine ever looks as good as it does in the picture.

Though time consuming, they came out ok I think.

I used an angel food cake mix instead of white because that was all I had.

I love cake batter. Yellow, chocolate, it's so yummy and sweet.

Don't eat the raw batter of angel food cake. I continued to be the perfect role model for my kids as I spit my taste out into the sink while they immediately followed, vowing not to even sniff the lovely finished product.

Except Katie. She loved the batter and the cake.

She's my Toto.

2010-02-24T22:05:00.005-05:00

Ok, this is going to be quick because I'm a wee bit wigged out right now.

One, because I just spent the last hour watching Ghost Hunters. A show that doesn't usually give me the heebie jeebies, but for some reason tonight it did. Like the kind where I feel cold and can't seem to stop shivering no matter how much I bundle up because you've heard that ghosts equal cold right? So being in this cold spooky basement right now is not good for the baby I'm sure. Yeah, that's it. Don't want to upset the little'un.

Also, things like hearing my son scream "Come here mommy! It's in here!" and me having to run dutifully upstairs to see what's (hopefully) not really there doesn't help my scaredy-cat situation. Even now as I sit here, listening to the furnace, I keep thinking I hear noises upstairs and I'm having visions of the kids all crazy in a fit of shock from the boogie man. Oh, he's real all right. This moment I'm sure of it. I wonder if I should rent "Paranormal Activity"? Probably not a good idea. But I really want to see it.

But I'm also startled because during commercial breaks I switched the channel to American Idol. Now what's wrong with me? That's a guilty pleasure I thought I was long over but apparently not and now I'm afraid I might be obliged to watch next time to see which male singer got voted off.

Stupid reality tv.

I made Rib-Eye Steak with Whiskey Cream Sauce today. And I served it with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies. Excellent. But I didn't use whiskey because I didn't have any. In fact we hardly used the sauce at all because it ended up a tad salty. I'm running close to the end of the "sounds good to me" list from PW's book and so I may soon have to defer some recipes to my more well rounded sister, Maureen, who is much more willing than I to make daring concoctions like Burgundy Mushrooms and Sangria. And Blackberry Cobbler. But I think at least my appetite might be coming back because I don't feel the "morning sickness" at night as strongly anymore and even as I sit here, I want to unbutton my pants (only I'm wearing jammies) which is hopefully due to a baby bump and not my renewed interest in butter and cheese. As evidenced by my dinner tonight: a turkey and gruyere cheese panini cooked in oil.

Oooh, I could eat another one right now. Maybe eating has the same effect on being scared as it does on being nervous. Ever heard of that? "They" say that it's impossible to be nervous and hungry at the same time so the logic is, if you eat something, your jitters will go away.

Sounds good to me.

2010-02-22T20:31:00.003-05:00

After loads of time spent on really important things like scrubbing the baseboards on my hands and knees and cleaning the blinds individually by hand and dusting the filth from each and every ceiling fan in the house, (we have exactly 37 in our home) I decided to make another of PW's recipes for lunch today.

OK, of course I didn't do all that stuff, but I did cook... a little.

Potato skins are something I've never made before so I gave it a try. Except I was only feeding myself so I only made one.

And I didn't have any chives.

And I couldn't bear to throw away the mashed innards so I threw 'em back into the skins and turned them into twice-baked potatoes.

And I still have yet to master the art of scooping out the pulp without destroying the skin. How is that accomplished? Everyone else seems to be able to do it. When I try, I end up smashing it all together in a fit of frustration and calling it a garbage plate.

Despite all that stuff which pretty much adds up to me not following a recipe at all and just making my own thing, it tasted pretty good.

Is it wrong of me to be so excited for school to be back in session? I almost missed my girls when they slept over at Grandma's for two nights this past week, but then I came to my senses and enjoyed the silence while I caught up on my beauty rest.
So much for all the big plans to clean the girl's room and finish painting the hallway or even the kitchen or wash the dog or clean my andirons when I don't even have a fireplace. Not that you would know this. (actually I do have a fireplace, but I don't know what the heck an andiron is)
Sorry, I got carried away with the movie reference thing. (anyone other than Teresa know it?)

I spent a very productive week visiting the back of my eyelids and I suggest you all do the same. It'll make this world a happier place.

P.S. Happy belated Birthday to my one and only (should I still say favorite?) brother! No age jokes, I promise. Except how old are you again? I lost track after 40...

2010-02-15T20:38:00.006-05:00

Did you know that bowling was first invented by the Maya people?

It's true. During rituals designed to appease the gods, only the important religious leaders were allowed to collect the skulls left from their animal sacrifices and throw them great distances to
smash the remains of their enemies. The disintegration of the bones meant a long and prosperous life granted by the gods.

Not really.

I don't know where bowling originated from, but I'm glad we have it.

I don't think I went bowling until I was 12 or so. It was a friend's birthday party and I was so nervous. Like so many other activities, I had no idea what I was doing when everyone else seemed to be an expert.

And at first, it's a stressful sport for someone who doesn't remember to let go of the ball and ends up thrusting it magnificently backwards to her fearful teammates who quickly learn to hide when Mary's up because you never know, you may lose your foot or even your head.

The pressure of everyone you know AND strangers next to you all watching (because I was sure each and every one of them was looking at me) while I made a fool of myself helped create my patented walk of shame as I turn around after releasing the ball with a look of "So what? I suck, but I don't care." while walking back to my seat with my insides on fire.

I've recovered from my pre-teen social dilemmas, but tonight when we decided to go bowling as a family for the first time, I was skeptical of Daniel's behavior.

I fully expected him to shut down and sit on the cold plastic molded chair with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest and a permanent frown glued to his mug.

And he almost did just that. He started to say things very firmly under his breath like "I'm NOT putting those shoes on." and "HUMPH" and "What's for dinner?"

But we ignored that and he soon discovered that it was much more fun to sidle up to the lane and swing the ball back and forth a few times before throwing it practically into the next lane while our neighbors shouted "DUCK!"

Eventually he stopped running and swinging and settled down.

And he beat me. (that's not saying much though. I think none of us scored more than 100)

And I'm hopeful stuff like this will help build his confidence so he isn't so self conscious in school.

Because that's one facet of my life where I don't want history to repeat itself.

2010-02-09T20:31:00.007-05:00

Since I can't get my act together and I turn into a total mushpile whenever I think about anything that has to do with delivering this baby, I'm pleading temporary insanity in my own defense regarding the general neglect of this blog.

Because I still cannot put thoughts together properly and I have been known to have minor fits of porky pig's stuttering syndrome lately, I will just mention a few random things in my brain.

Raiders of the Lost Ark is (in my humble but correct opinion) the best movie ever made. And I don't care if it's appropriate or not for a 3-year-old. She needs to know the beauty and perfection that is Indiana Jones.
(it's also the best soundtrack)

I don't know (or care about) anything that has to do with football. But when that guy kicked what, an onside pass? after halftime, I got really excited. Also one of those later touchdowns was pretty thrilling.

My doctor asked me today how far along I was.
Should I be more worried that he had to ask? Or that I couldn't answer him with any sort of certainty?

This is the freshly made snowman my kids (who have known snow their entire lives) have created.
When I encouraged them to maybe make it bigger, they took a good long look at it and decided it was absolutely finished.
It's about a whopping foot and a half tall. (including the hat)

Chocolate pop tarts are the world's best food.

There are 62 recipes in Pioneer Woman's cookbook. I have made 34 of them.
(I forgot to mention the spicy pulled pork I made on Superbowl Sunday. Not so spicy really. But I made it in the crockpot. Someday I'll get a dutch oven)

Right now all smells are bad. Anything that has a scent at all is too much. If I catch even a trace of perfume on someone, I want to yack.

Finally, I think this baby is a girl. (but I reserve the right to change my mind about that)

2010-02-04T20:53:00.007-05:00

I watched "Breakfast at Tiffany's" last night.

I've been itching to see it since it's supposedly such an iconic American film.

I used to think if I ever made it to NYC, I'd have to go eat at this Tiffany's place. It must be really good if there's been a movie about it, not to mention all the famous images of Audrey Hepburn looking so classy and sophisticated.
The fact that "breakfast at tiffany's" is only Audrey eating a croissant in front of the snazzy jewelry store after "a hard night's work" is about the most intelligent aspect of the movie.

What a let down. I don't know which was worse; the irreverent (and not even funny) politically incorrect Asian landlord portrayed by Mickey Rooney, or the mediocre acting, especially by the interesting-as-cardboard George Peppard.

I thought Audry's character was going to be this beautiful intelligent high society kind of gal. No no, she's a ditsy hooker. Though that's not really made as obvious as the gigolo that Peppard's character is. I guess she's supposed to be a lady or something.

Bottom line, I may have enjoyed it if I cared about it at all. But I felt nothing except pity for the wet cat in the end and a longing to see Patricia Neal's character some more.

What's so great about this movie anyway? Was America so obsessed with Audrey Hepburn that this floppy flick has weaseled it's place as a permanent and beloved symbol of American pop culture?

*witty segue somehow connecting the downfall of American cinema with cooking would go here, but I'm just not that smart or motivated*

With my tastebud torture temporarily lifted today, I felt like cooking.

Nothing outrageous or risky, just maybe some comfort food. So I did PW's lasagna. (very modified) and her crispy oatmeal cookies. (also modified)

With all this changing of her recipes, I'm not sure if it really follows the rules. But what the heck, they're my rules so I say it still counts as completing a recipe from her book.

I skipped the cottage cheese and egg mixture in the lasagna, replacing it with cheddar, parmesan and FRESH mozzarella. I could have eaten that whole blob of mozz. by itself it was so good.

I liked PW's version okay, but I found it to be a bit saucy. I think I'm still happy using canned sauce. Also, her way of assembling was weird. She put the cheese layer on before the meat. Though with the really wet cheese mixture in her recipe, that might work. Again, my version was a lot different than hers.

The cookies were delicious. I substituted chocolate chips for the pecans which turned out to be a dandy decision. Yummy. I did skip the step about rolling a log and refrigerating it before baking.
Why wait?

Time to go watch something reliable like "When Harry Met Sally" and make a dish like tacos. You can't go wrong with tacos.

2010-02-02T22:18:00.003-05:00

Meet our very own Punxsutawney Phil.

My kids know all about Groundhog Day. It's almost as exciting as, well I won't say Christmas, but Easter at least for them, thanks to school.

When I was a kid, (now you know you're getting old when you find yourself starting lots of stories with that phrase. As I have been. Lots.) I didn't really know much about Feb. 2 let alone the tradition of a poor fat rodent dragged out of his peaceful slumber to be faced with brazen band music and numerous humans cheering and stuffing their faces.

No wonder he runs away.

Does that mean he's seen his shadow? And does that mean six more weeks of winter or is it the opposite? It seems to me that if he sees his shadow, the sun must be out and therefore spring is on it's way.

But I think it's the other way around. Oh, what difference does it make? We all know no matter what that chunky rat does we're doomed for at least 3 more months of snow.

Let the poor thing sleep. But count me in on one of those famous Punxsutawney sandwiches they serve up for the occasion.

2010-02-01T20:59:00.002-05:00

I think I'll take a short hiatus from my PW recipe challenge, at least till I'm through the first trimester.

You see, I'm not at all myself. I haven't been to horseback in two weeks, (though not due to pregnancy, just coincidence) I'm laying around all the time, (ok, more than usual) I have zero interest in the computer, (basement is too cold and inconvenient) and nothing tastes the same. I don't want to eat, but I want to taste.
I bought Whoppers to alleviate some of this craving for sweets and was very disappointed.
They tasted burnt.
I may as well just crawl under the covers and hibernate.

I'm not even nibbling on my chocolate bar, and when I have a bowl of ice cream, it just doesn't bring me any joy.

So cooking is not an activity I'm really motivated to do lately. We've had sandwiches for lunch almost every day. With pickles. It's the reason to have the sandwich.

So I'm sorry for this temporary setback, but I do plan to finish what I started.
But not till I get my tastebuds back.
Hopefully by Valentine's Day.
I've always wanted one of those heart shaped boxes filled with chocolate.

2010-01-28T21:05:00.003-05:00

It's one of those blustery, freezing, wintry days today.
The house is quiet now and I'm enjoying listening to the wind while I stay cozy and bundled with my hot chocolate and Snuggie and trusty dog at my feet by the crackling fireplace. (or in reality, wrapped tightly in my blanket in the freezing basement sniffling and trying to fight off nausea--close enough)

When I was a kid on these days, I remember feeling kinda scared but at the same time like the weather was neat-o. Maybe it was just the possibility of a snow day that got me excited. (please let it not be a snow day tomorrow) But extreme winter weather always seemed a bit larger than life and so kind of thrilling.

I remember walking with my two neighbor friends from home to some activity at the rec. center about a mile away in what (at the time) felt like this kind of weather. (though I'm sure mom would never have let us go if it was this bad. right mom?) (plus we were like 6 years old)
It didn't start out too bad, but the further we walked, the nippier the wind seemed to feel and snow was blowing harder and our situation (to our young scared minds) seemed to become bleaker.

We all huddled together to brave the "winter storm" and ultimately decided to go back home even though we were almost there.

Life is so dramatic when you are a kid. I remember picturing what we must have looked like and thinking the nasty storm would force us to take shelter in some nearby woods or maybe we'd pound on some poor stranger's door claiming to be starving orphans in need of cookies.

And I wonder why my kids are so dramatic.

I don't mind this cold and wind too much, (said from someone who did not have to leave the house today) but this picture looks nicer.
It was taken just a week or two ago when we all got a wee taste of spring.

This was today. The kids are playing some sort of photo shoot game. Dan is the photographer and Shannon is the model. He kept saying "next, next next..." prompting her to pose until the timer on the little microwave went off and then he would abruptly say "You're done. Next!"

I made Perfect Pot Roast and Chocolate Sheet Cake yesterday.
I cooked the roast in the crockpot because I now know that my large pot with a plastic knob on the lid IS NOT oven safe. (a smelly mistake I discovered a few years ago)

It still tasted fantastic. Very tender. We ate it all.

The cake is good too, though I think I prefer brownies to cake. Cake just doesn't pack as much of a chocolaty punch. But it was delicious. Like chocolate flavored butter.

I took today off from cooking because Tim had to work and because I had Huevos Hyacinth on the menu. And though I recently made fried eggs over-easy for myself on a daily basis, now the idea of even smelling eggs makes me sick so I may put that one off for a while.

Homemade pizza tomorrow.
Maybe.

2010-01-26T22:49:00.002-05:00

"That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet."

Really, how important is a name in the grand scheme of things? I mean it's not like something as simple as your name will shape your personality or anything.

Or will it? Maybe a person who's known as Millicent will forever be fearfully dodging the public and taking the spooky dark alleyways to avoid human contact while an Angelina may stop traffic.
(by the way, we don't know what the baby is yet, I'm just throwing out girl's names more because that's what's popping in my head.)

Please save us from naming our child something that just popped in our head.

It's early yet but I wanna have some fun so help me out here.

What monikers strike your fancy? Please don't just shout out your name for heaven's sake! I get it. Everyone would like to have someone named after them. But I know all you people (or many of you...who's really out there?) I'm looking for what we haven't thought of yet.

We have a couple ideas but plan on having a backup boy and girl name picked out, in case they just don't look like a Mildred. Or a Fannie. Or a Jehoshaphat.

Oooh, Rose is nice, maybe overused.

How about Trigger? (kidding)

We know what we like but I think some fresh ideas would be helpful and fun.

Fire away! We certainly don't care about hurting anyone's feelings if we don't pick their name...

I made Comfort Meatballs and Ranch with iceberg wedges today.

PW shows the meatballs served with mashed potatoes, (I know, she's just crazy!) but I wanted to go the traditional route and have them with spaghetti.

Very yummy, though more sauce is needed if you plan on dousing the rest of your meal with the stuff. Tim liked it (the sauce) while I thought not bad, but nothing to shout about either. (again, wacky tastebuds working overtime or perhaps not at all) He said he liked that it was tangy.

The dressing was very smooth. I added a bit more cayenne because I like more flavor. And I went easy on the garlic, (for my stomach's sake) but if I'm ever so inclined to not use the bottled stuff, I will go to this recipe.

Overall, very nice meal, nothing to scream about, but really pretty good.

Tomorrow is Perfect Pot Roast and Chocolate Sheet Cake.

2010-01-25T20:30:00.005-05:00

Pregnancy is having an effect on me I never would have predicted. Or maybe I'm just counting on it to be the excuse for my stupid actions. Which I could have predicted because I did that the other 3 times.

Either way, I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes.

I've taken Katie to the library for story time for about a year now and though she never admits she wants to go, she always does. And though she refuses to join in the silly songs and won't sit upright, (she likes to lay upside-down on my lap) I know she is listening and having a good time.

Today was the first of a new round of story times and I was looking forward to going with her. But then Tim found out he had to work at the baby store this morning and with one car, that meant no library today.

Did that stop me?

Noooo.

I foolishly decided to put Katie in a raincoat, carry my biggest umbrella proudly and push the stroller happily to the half hour song and dance spiel while singing in the rain.

I mean it wasn't raining that hard. And the library is what, a mile away? We can do that.

I was naively optimistic when we stepped out the door. Just a drizzle, and it's pretty warm. No problem.

About halfway there, I was ready to sacrifice the umbrella up to the wind gods and crawl into a nice hollow tree for shelter. Between dodging the lake-sized puddles and navigating the possessed stroller on a straight course while keeping a death grip on the humongous oh-so-effective umbrella over my head without tangling my hair in the nasty sharp metal parts and watching for stupid speeding drivers, I was a mess.

"Katie, how are ya hon?"
"Wha mom? I fine."
"Great. Do you think you could push me for awhile?"
"Ummm, no, dat's ok."

On we press and I'm getting optimistic we'll make it till we reach the main road and I see that it's a nice gradual long walk uphill.

When did that steep long incline get here? I've never noticed it driving. Ugghhh.

The violent gusts whipped my hair painfully into my face and demanded I release my only protection but I was a steady soldier and marched on. (melodrama anyone? I guess it wasn't that bad...)

The way back was not nearly as awful except I was exhausted. I really need to work out or at least get out more.

I did make that Chicken Pot Pie last week and it is one of the best things I have ever eaten.

Sincerely.

The homemade crust is so savory and flaky, I ate an entire half of extra crust I had baked and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. (that's what mom used to do with the extra dough--it's yummy)

Today I made the Sherried Tomato Soup.

Only without the sherry.

Or the onion.

Or the heavy cream. (I was out of it since this was last week's recipe. But I substituted sour cream and milk.)

It's the tastiest tomato soup I've ever had. And I don't really love tomato soup either. I have to be in the mood and really doctor it up with cheese and crackers.

Figures I would like this, I think the heavy cream/sour cream completely negates any nutritional value it once may have held.

I don't care, I'm pregnant.

Tomorrow is Meatballs and Ranch (as in dressing) with iceberg lettuce wedge.

2010-01-21T20:30:00.002-05:00

No post today.
Kids are sick. (two are, one just has a cold)
Like made-it-to-the-bathroom-but-forgot-to-lift-the-seat sick.
And throw up every hour till it's just water sick.
Now I feel sick. But I think I'm supposed to anyway...
Chicken pot pie is coming in the (hopefully) near future.
Thanks.

Thank You Mr. Miyagi

2010-01-20T20:46:00.003-05:00

Recently, to my delight, this movie was marathoned on some cable channel. I hadn't seen it in a while and now my kids got a chance to see bits of the magic that Ralph Macchio exudes. (snicker) Though now, seeing it through older eyes, I saw what a dweeb Ralph kinda looked like and I found myself more interested in Mr. Miyagi's character. (just interested, not attracted. Jeesh.)

Anyway, seeing this movie recently came in handy twice already this week.

Last night, I woke up in a fit of brain overload. I'm not sure what exactly I was thinking about, it seemed like tons of thoughts all at once. Usually when I can't sleep because my brain won't shut down, it's because of one issue. Like how to pay the bills, or, well...how to pay the bills. I recover by getting up, distracting myself, then putting some real thought into my problem, then watching some cheesy late night movie till 3 am. But last night, I didn't even know what to try to stop pondering over.

I got up, walked around, went back to bed... still couldn't seem to think straight.

Then I remembered the words of the wise Mr. Miyagi: "Fust focus."
So I focused.
"Den breed"
So I breathed.
"In tru da nose, out tru da mout." (or maybe it was the other way around, either way it doesn't matter right?)
Gotcha. Done.
Konk.
I was out again.

Katie was helping me grate the cheese for the Mac and Cheese lunch today (which was spectacular) and she was having difficulty remembering which way to pass the hunk of cheese over the grater. So one more time, I remembered the brilliance of The Karate Kid.
Not the "wax-on, wax-off'" part, but the up/down strokes when he was painting the fence.
Worked like a charm. (It's especially effective if you say it in the right accent too.)

(Sorry mom, I know you're really gonna think I'm nuts now since you probably don't have any idea what I'm talking about.)

I used jack and cheddar cheeses for the mac & cheese with some butter-soaked bread chunks on top. (I wanted more texture and butter also sounded good to me) Added some hunks of ham on the side. "It's very important to serve things on the side." It was a tasty meal.

So thank you Karate Kid, for your restful nights, your assistance with training in the kitchen, and most of all, for the nickname "Daniel-son". I'll use it well.

2010-01-19T20:49:00.002-05:00

This baby is less than 4 mm long and it's already taken control of my life. Or at least my appetite. Which might as well be my entire world since I dream about food all the time. Ok, I don't. But who doesn't love a good steak dinner?

It's the strangest feeling to be hungry and to have nothing look appealing, yet when I eat something with lots of flavor, it tastes twice as good as I thought it would. Till I feel sick again five minutes later. My body is so confused. I never had any cravings with my other pregnancies, just food I could tolerate. But last night, in a fit of curiosity, I ate a pickle. And boy did it taste pretty good. It also made the "sickness" go away, at least temporarily. So much for dispelling that wive's tale.

Unfortunately, my relief was short-lived because today I did not enjoy my hard-earned painstakingly tedious to prepare meal. (ok, it wasn't that hard to make)

The little brat.

I cooked the beef tenderloin to a higher temperature than PW recommended because I don't like my meat still moving and I figured this can't be good for the baby. As you can see, it was still bloody. (even just typing that makes me want to be sick right now. I've always been squeamish. In high school, I couldn't take notes in science class about blood or eyeballs because my hand would go limp)

So I zapped it till it was a more comfortable color and it tasted fine. But again, I think I've been cheated out of what would have been a delectable dish. Woe is me.

The Creamy Rosemary Potatoes were a bit of a disappointment too. For some reason, whenever I make scalloped or thinly sliced potatoes, they never cook properly. I cooked these for well over an hour and they were still stiff. Also, in the directions, she says to slice the potatoes and then put them aside while you prep other stuff. I knew what effect air had on freshly cut potatoes but I thought maybe the sauce would save them from the ugly-turning-pinkish-gray fate. No such luck. So they were stiff and corpse-like for eating.

I think I'll stick to mashed.

Now I'll probably dream about zombies or something.

2010-01-18T15:23:00.008-05:00

Sorry to have been so neglectful of my blog lately. By the end of last week, my creative energy had completely petered out and I did nothing about it. Because I'm lazy. And pregnant. (I warned about the milking of that one didn't I?)
So, let me 'splain my reasons for not completing my PW menu items last week... no it's too long. Let me sum up. No mac & cheese Thurs. b/c plenty of leftovers from Wed. (and no Tim to feed) And no meatloaf Fri. b/c I was out all morning and Katie and I indulged on Mc Donald's. (big pregnancy mistake--paid for that one later)

Last night I made the Meatloaf and Creamy Mashed Potatoes. (halved) It calls for bread (not just breadcrumbs) and I noticed this flavor seemed to dominate the meal. But that could just be my wacky pregnant taste buds talking. Everything tastes funny lately.
I also discovered that parsley, which used to be fine with me, is now on my can't-even-look-at-it-or-I-will-spew list. It smelled like rancid dirt to me. So I guess from here on out, anything I have to say about how these dishes taste can be considered just the ramblings of a neurotic pregnant hormonal pregnant lady. Kay?

And I was warned to pre-bake the bacon (which I did) but it still came out underdone.
I wasn't wowed by this, I think I like the recipe I have been using for meatloaf. But the recipes are so similar, I just don't know whether to trust PW or my useless taste buds right now.
(but the mashed potatoes were fantastic)

Back on track today. Marmalade Muffins. PW says to use a mini muffin pan to make 24 of these. I halved the recipe and made 32 so unless she's a mutant Okie giant, something's wonky here. But they tasted great.

Breakfast Bowls for lunch. Lots of prep work, but worth it. Though my brain unexpectedly went on strike and I accidentally turned off the oven when trying to manage the time these were done to coincide with when Tim was coming home from the store. So we ate lunch an hour late. And so it starts...
(p.s.--I substituted cilantro for the basil and I'm so glad I did. Totally made up for the dirty parsley in the meatloaf)

Menu for the rest of the week:

Tuesday: Roasted Beef Tenderloin and Creamy Rosemary Potatoes.
Wed. Mac & Cheese
Thurs: Chicken Pot Pie
Fri. Sherried Tomato Soup

Sound good?

2010-01-13T20:30:00.006-05:00

We get a lot of snow here.

(disclaimer: above picture referred to as "here" is not actually "here" but a remote setting in Germany used to make the idea of "here" more appealing. And to subliminally suggest to the reader that the sky here in upstate NY is in fact blue thus enriching a general nice feeling as you read this substandard post and leave it thinking 'Wow, that Mary, what a nice gal." Or not so much if you prefer Florida)

It's cold "here" anyway and so I did not feel like bundling everybody up for 45 minutes only to play outside for five before it got too frigid to feel our faces.

But the kids really wanted to try out the snowman kit from grandma so they improvised.

Meet "pillowman".

Despite the houses and street and traffic, there was a lovely sunset tonight.

(that would be my wordless Wed. pic if I only felt like not writing.

But I don't. (feel like not writing, though I do feel a little nauseous/icky already. Could that be in my head?)

We told the kids about the baby this morning. They were pretty excited. Shannon wants a girl of course and Dan wants a boy and Katie doesn't seem to really care except she wants to make sure the baby gets that she "is a BIG girl". Nothing really phases her.

When Shannon came home from school she asked me: "Are you going to have a baby genie?"

"What?"

A baby genie. You know, like a genie that's a baby."

"Ummm, where did you get that idea?"

"I don't know, I just thought of it."

I hope she's not thinking of the diaper genies. Weird.

Also stinky.

Chicken spaghetti for lunch today. I skipped the onions and peppers and pimientos though. My stomach has been a wee bit more picky lately so I had to "dumb it down" a little. (sorry, couldn't think of a better phrase) Also, I didn't feel like chopping an onion. Lazy.

This dish was nice for Katie and me, though I don't think Tim would like it a whole bunch. (he worked both jobs today so he missed my delectable 4-course fancy cuisine/casserole) It's a great comfort food but he's not big on chicken and cheese together.

I loved it. The cayenne and cheddar cheese gave it so much flavor. I had a second helping. And maybe a third but they were small portions and lunch is my big meal ok? And oh yeah, I'm pregnant. (I'm gonna milk that one a lot, get used to it.)

I did drizzle melted chocolate bar onto those angel sugar cookies too. While the chocolate wasn't the ideal kind for melting and they looked like lumpy brown chunks of... well I'll say chocolate, they tasted fantastic.

Next time with meltable discs.

Thanks everyone for the well wishes and congrats!

I'll make sure to post all the gory details as they come.

2010-01-12T23:12:00.005-05:00

Smokin' babies.

Great image? Great band at least.

That's us. We're having kids so fast they're on fire.

Since many of you know already and Tim, (even though he was in denial till today) has managed to go way more public than I have yet, (thanks to facebook) I might as well make it official.

Baby #4 is due Sept 9.

Yikes!!!

I should have seen this coming, the signs were there. Tim got a second job at a baby store, I just posted about feeling detached in a good way from the baby crowd (there's some funny life irony) and whenever anyone asked if we were done having kids, my response was always "never say never". (though secretly I was not keen with being pregnant and delivering and feeding a newborn again.)

You see, I like kids. I love my kids. But I really don't do well with the extreme sleep deprivation a newborn causes so that personal demon is waiting patiently for me. My youngest child syndrome causes me to fly into fits of selfishness here and there. My first reaction when I saw the positive test was, "crap, now I can't go horseback riding for a while". Then it was "oh #$@&, I remember the nonstop crying". Then I wanted to crawl into bed under my horsie blanket and suck my thumb. (rather my two fingers-I guess that's what I did when I was little)

So after a little shell-shock and time, Tim and I are slowly accepting the fact that we are no longer in control of our home anymore. The part of head-of-the-house will now be played alternately by 4 evil children.
But what a blessing. Some folks endure so much pain and emotional suffering just to have one child.

Now we'll have 4 kids who can argue about which nursing home to send us to when we're old.

Marlboro Man's favorite sandwich today. Yummy. Great for the baby. They love butter. From now on I'll just say everything that calls for more than 1 stick of butter from PW's book is "good for the baby" and I'll eat two helpings.

Does anyone know of a good prego-exercise routine? I might need it.

2010-01-11T20:33:00.003-05:00

2 out of 3 of today's recipe creations from PW's fabulous cookbook were ones I had done before so I knew what I was doing a little better than usual and I wasn't startled with 3 tsp. of vanilla?! Really? (as in the last post about my (non) mocha brownies.

I made French Breakfast Puffs last night and they tasted every bit like the butter soaked sugary niceness that they embody. A wonderful cross between a doughnut and a slab of that carnival fried dough.

Basic Breakfast Potatoes are just another way of saying home fries. This gives the very basic foundation recipe with a few ideas to kick it up a bit. I made mine with some Jack cheese and a little extra seasoning salt. This is a dish you need to keep tasting till you get it right. (sounds good to me)
I served it with eggs, (for me and Katie) bacon, and pancakes. My heart is thanking me right now I'm sure.

And the final recipe was the Angel Sugar Cookies. These I made a wee bit too large. (hers in the picture looked bigger to me) But they are delicious. (even if they don't have any chocolate in them) Flaky and delicate, they taste a bit like a cross between a shortbread cookie and a basic sugar cookie. I think I will have to add some chocolate to them, just to see what that's like. I have a candybar I could melt and drizzle over them. We'll see how motivated I am in the morning.

I overheard this earlier:
Katie: "You can't say raccoon!"
Shannon: "I can too! Raccoon! Duh!"
(my 3 year old baby) Katie: "My name is not DUH!"

I was impressed.

2010-01-08T20:15:00.010-05:00

For the past several years at Christmastime, we have used our lovely but oversized fake tree.
Every year I say "let's get a real tree this year" and we never do.

This year we did.

Usually the site below saddens me. The festive decorations are put away, the colorful lights are no longer twinkling and sparkling off all the glass and mirrors, the cheerful holiday melodies have faded back into the usual tired stuff on the radio.

And seeing the tree on the curb always makes me feel bad for putting it out there. Didn't it waft it's delicate pine scent and display our precious ornaments so well?

Didn't it provide happiness for the children as they raced down the stairs Christmas morning to check under it's noble branches to see if Santa came?

And now, does it deserve to be dragged out to the roadside in this bitter weather only to be slushed upon repeatedly by uncaring SUVs and snowplows?

Yes. Yes it does.

Because by the time I got this tree down, I was ready to put it in the shredder myself Fargo-style.

Not only did EVERY needle come off while undecorating it, there appears to have been a spider living in it as evidenced by the lovely web it wove around the star.

Then, as I unscrewed the pegs, and it fell to the floor, all the water from the base completely missed the bucket I had strategically placed, soaking the hardwoods and turning all those fallen needles to an oh-so-fun-to-clean-up-mushy pile.

So, yes, it was a good tree, but now it's time to let go.

The last day this week of my PW's recipe challenge was cheese grits and mocha brownies.

I halved the grits and it still was plenty. (she cooks for many more people)
They were just as promised: cheesy and delicious. The cayenne pepper gave it a nice kick and the cheddar and jack cheese were smooth and flavorful.

The brownies need some work though.
It says to use an 8x8 pan. I don't think so. I don't know how high her pans are but this filled mine to the top. And bake time was not 40-45 minutes as the recipe said, but more like over an hour. Next time, a 9x13 for decreased baking time should do it.

Now I can't be too critical of the frosting because I didn't make it mocha. Tim and I both don't care for coffee and I don't even like just it's flavor, (but I do enjoy the scent--what's up with that?) so I substituted with whole milk. It was very yummy but waaay too much. (5 cups of powdered sugar and 2 sticks of butter) Especially for the teeny 8x8 pan. The picture shows a slathering of frosting on hers, but I think that's overkill. Plus there wasn't enough room to lay it on so thick because the brownies were already brimming the edge of the dish.
And both the brownies and the frosting called for 3 tsp. of vanilla each. Since I don't buy vanilla by the gallon, I cut that back a bit.

Now after all this critiquing, I can still say that the food was very yummy. The grits were warm and comforting and the brownies really were delicious. The process just needs to be tweaked a bit to fit my kitchen and it's capabilities.

Next week's menu:
Monday: Basic Breakfast Potatoes and Angel Sugar Cookies
Tuesday: Marlboro Man's Favorite Sandwich
Wednesday: Chicken Spaghetti
Thursday: Comfort Meatballs, Creamy Mashed Potatoes and Homemade Ranch with iceberg wedge. (meatballs may change to meatloaf)
Friday: Macaroni and Cheese
And maybe another dessert thrown in there, just because I want to.

My biscuits are burnin'!

2010-01-07T21:22:00.005-05:00

Meal #4 in the PW cookbook self-imposed silly project: Chicken fried steak and biscuits. (by the way, why is it called "chicken fried"? There is no chicken involved. I've never made fried chicken. Does it have to do with that?)

I'm not putting up pictures today because frankly, I don't feel like it.

Also the meal was just plain ugly.

Really?

You really want to see it?

Ok, but don't say I didn't warn you.

I burned 'em good. The recipe said bake them for 11-14 minutes. So, because I live dangerously (lazily) and figured I'd save the hassle of resetting the timer for one more minute five times, I set them for 14 minutes.

They were nice and crispy.

Doesn't this look appealing? Kind of like some leftover special effects from the movie Alien?

And how is the special breaded coating supposed to stay on the meat?

Because every time I make this, (ok, the 2 times I made it) it falls apart and looks a mess.

It tasted ok but look at the gravy! Somewhere somebody from the set of Jaws is looking for the missing props of blown up shark meat.

I decided to have veggies too so I added canned mixed ones from Aldi's. Another mistake. I didn't even save the leftovers.

I'm not going to rate this one because had I done it properly, I may have been able to give it a fair chance. Instead I'll let the poor memory of a crappy cuisine be layed to rest.

Dinner was fun too.
I served leftover spaghetti and meatballs. But the spaghetti was a hodge-podge of different shaped pastas so I took the time to weed out the spaghetti strings for Daniel in anticipation of his defiance to eat such a meal. (he has eaten it before, but not enough to qualify it as familiar food)

"I want more sauce! Where's the sauce?"

"We don't have any more, but look! I gave you all strings."

*louder* "I want sauce! I'm checking the cuvords for sauce!"

*me impatiently* "We don't have any! Sit down and eat."

"I'm making chicken!"

"NO YOU ARE NOT. THIS IS DINNER. EAT IT OR DON'T EAT!"

Now he's making velociraptor noises and raging around the living room and yelling at me.
I told him to go to time out for his behavior and he buried himself under all the couch cushions.

Then Shannon says "Can I have Dan's spaghetti?"

.
Then everything was back to normal like a violent tornado had blown through and now we could safely come out of the storm cellar, slowly.

Weird.

2010-01-06T20:28:00.006-05:00

The perfect couple.

He looked girly with his lovely curly locks and I looked boyish with my wicked cowlick and chubby cheeks.

Today's menu: Simple Perfect Chili and Skillet Cornbread (except due to lack of a skillet, it was more like glass 8x8 square pan cornbread)

Good 'ol comfort food today. I'm not in love with chili but since I didn't add any optional ingredients like pinto beans or kidney beans (really? yuck) and I was out of jalapenos and I forgot to add the diced tomatoes due to a last minute rush to the store to get a brownie mix because dessert is a must, I really liked it. So it really was "Simple" and almost "Perfect".
Even without the cheese. I can't remember it all. Though I was really kicking myself for that one. I forgot the cheese? Horrors.
The cornbread was delicious. I usually only like the box kind, homemade has always ended up dry and bland but this recipe was flavorful and moist.

Tim gave the meal a 3. (out of 5, 5 being the best)

And Monday's enchiladas he gave a 4.75. He said he needed to leave room for improvement.

Yesterday's migas and guacamole would not have been a fair assessment from him due to his hatred for all of the ingredients in those dishes so bullet dodged there.

But I gave them a 4.8.

Ok, enough words for now. It is only Wednesday.

P.S.
*Leslie Sansone 3-mile workout today to make up for the lack of veggies consumed.*

2010-01-05T21:08:00.007-05:00

Today's Pioneer Woman self indulgent menu: fresh guacamole made with yesterday's leftover pico de gallo and Migas.

It turned out for the best that Tim got called in to work at his second job today because he would have been pretty hungry seeing as how he just plain doesn't do guacamole and he doesn't like eggs in the slightest. (main ingredient in migas)

Once when we were first married I decided to make him eggs for breakfast because that's what people who love each other do. They prepare meals the other despises on purpose just to make them prove to you how much they love you by eating every bite.

I had no idea he was not fond of eggs.

And he ate every bite.

Then when I discovered the truth I cursed him out for not coming clean with me at the time.

I never claimed to be a nice bride.

My baby girl on the other hand is the one other being in this house I can share my passion for what I once referred to as frog brains. (was that it? it's some reference to The Muppet Movie I can't quite remember) Then I tried it again without looking at it. (still talking about guacamole here, in case I'm losing you) Then I decided it was delicious. I know it's not pretty stuff but it's so yummy.
Together we mopped up that guac. like a five year old gorging on a precious twinkie at a playground full of hungry bullies.

The migas were not her favorite, though she nibbled on all my pepperjack cheese before I even put it in the dish.

I quartered the recipe and still had lots leftover. Filling stuff.

This picture is just for fun. We played a little outside tonight in the (proper amount of) snow.

That's what I remember as a kid. Playing in snowpiles bigger than me. Digging tunnels through plowed parking lot piles. Not ever feeling cold. Why does that phenomenon only happen when you're a kid?
Then we watched some of Coraline in 3-D. (it came with the glasses)

I don't know if I'm just getting old but the 3-D effect wasn't working so much for me. My left and right brain were fighting to see if the red or blue should be dominant. It was a draw and everything ended up looking blurry.

I'm getting old.

I feel separated from the mommy crowd I used to identify with in public with their babies and strollers.

That's not me anymore. I'm an aging mom who dies her hair and won't sit on the floor much now because it's too darn hard to get back up.

How long is it before I can't play ring-around-the-rosie without stopping every turn because otherwise I'll prematurely fall down?

Wait, that's pretty much now. (like I'm playing that game all the time anyway)

That's ok. I like where I'm at now.

Which is easy to say because I haven't hit 40 yet. Watch out then. Mid-life crisis plowing through I'm sure.

2010-01-04T20:22:00.006-05:00

It's been eight years since we've gone out for New Year's (I think) so when we were invited to a kid-friendly party at our friend's house, we enthusiastically said YES!
The party was fun, complete with a hot tub, great food, a pinata, and plenty of other kids. Except we didn't go in the tub, (forgot our suits) our supershy offspring did not interact with any other kids, and the pinata... well long story short, a meltdown (Daniel) kept us from staying till midnight.
So home we went. (it really was a great party though)

Kids are in bed by 10:30 and Tim and I stayed up to watch the ball drop like the party animals we are known to be.

It's 11:53 says Ryan Seacrest.

Then it's 12:13. Whoops. We both slept through it. Always next year right?

Also on this challenging vacation, (meaning how do we keep the kids occupied enough so they don't maim each other Aadams Family style out of boredom) Daniel got to see the Monster Jam show and his favorite truck up close.
See how excited he is?
I understand he at least perked up later, when no one was looking.

Anyone remember this era?

The "Let's Get Physical" movement that seemed to focus on supercool headbands and scrunchy rainbow leg warmers but not so much on actual exercise?

Well there's a comeback a brewin' I think.

Today was day one of my PW's fat and tasty cookbook recipe marathon.

On the menu: Pico de Gallo served with homemade chips and Simple, Perfect Enchiladas. (also cornbread, can't forget that even if it was only the box kind)

How can something that contained 3 out of 4 ingredients I despise be so good?

I hate onions, tomatoes and jalapenos. Yet this dip is soooo good. Must be all the cilantro.

There's no other explanation.

And the enchiladas. I was very wary about putting peppers and onions in with the meat. (chicken by the way, I made enchiladas with ground beef before and it's not nearly as good as shredded chicken)

But PW came through and the dish was delicious.

Despite the fact that I've never eaten so many vegetables in one sitting before, I still did a workout in the spirit of the new year. Denise Austin and her painful pilates have now taken ownership of my butt.

I hope it's well cared for.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-12-30T22:28:00.005-05:00

I'm eternally grateful to whoever came up with the WW concept because after an exhausting day of lounging around in my daughter's leopard snuggie that doesn't fit her so I conveniently sort of adopted it, and fighting off this obnoxious cold, I just can't think of anything I want to say.
Except that I wish it would snow more.

Because I want to take my kids sledding so they can feel the thrill of a real suicide hill and not have to build cute little piles of snow to "sled "down in the front yard. (or is it slide? Some people say "sliding" but that seems weird to me.)

Ehh, this is closer to the bathroom anyway.

2009-12-29T20:24:00.010-05:00

Every year for New Year's, I make the extremely wise and profound decision to not really make any resolutions. I mean, what's the point? Set grandiose standards only to let myself down when I quit whatever it is 2 weeks later? Who needs that kind of guilt? Exercise? Pshaw! I'd rather set my sights low and then be pleasantly surprised when I accomplish something teeny. Like remembering to feed the dog.

This attitude is why I'm such a financial wizard and quite the successful business woman. (yeah, "Working Girl"... that's me)

I really do like to be organized though, even if I am not really the poster girl for having an uncluttered and clean house.

Before kids, when I was working full time, I once in an attempt to clean up my "module", (10 participants, 3 staff, 1 teeny room. Order was a necessity) I actually straightened a chair back into the table with a staff member still in it.

It's not healthy. But what's less sane is the fact that I like things this way and that's out of my control now that I have 3 little kids upsetting all my fantastic organizational achievements.
"I have boxes for those legos! DO NOT DUMP THE STUFF OUT OF THEM AND USE THEM FOR HELMETS!
I'm no fun am I.

But my point.

I used to plan meals for the week and shop accordingly. Lots of normal people do this. Maybe that's why I couldn't keep it up. I'm kind of weird.

I've stopped the habit (for no good reason) and am now making trips to Wegman's almost every day.

This has to end. So, with my new favorite cookbook (thanks Carol!) to guide me, I'm planning a New Year's activity (NOT a resolution) to make all of the recipes in the book and document the results here.

Yes, I know I'm so original and that this has already been done with a much more difficult and impressive challenge. (you all have seen Julie and Julia) But I decided I don't care that it's not my idea. I want to do it. It's a much smaller book and I've already made lots of the recipes in it. Though some do scare me and I might have to modify them. Burgundy mushrooms anyone? Not me.
Every dish so far has been fail-proof and scrumptious and even Tim likes them. (I won't be telling him when I feed him something with ricotta cheese in it, he'll have to trust me.)

So, starting next week, I'll have the week's menu planned out and it will look something like this:

Monday: Pico de Gallo and Simple, Perfect Enchiladas (and maybe cornbread)
Tuesday: Guacamole and Migas
Wednesday: Simple, Perfect Chili
Thursday: Chicken Fried Steak and Buttermilk Biscuits
Friday: Cheese Grits and Mocha Brownies

Of course this wouldn't be a proper non-resolution if I didn't add a disclaimer that stated that these meals may be subject to change (or may not happen at all every day--it's gonna happen. I'm not that dedicated.)

Also, I'm not promising anything, but due to the excessive butter used in just about all the recipes, I am thinking it might be a good idea to start a real work-out regimen too. We'll see.

2009-12-28T20:41:00.000-05:00

Ahhh, Christmas.
Such a wonderful, warm happy time.

A time to spend with beloved family and create fond memories.

Everyone is content and comfortably full after all the good food.

You know, that time after dinner but before presents when everyone is all warm and fuzzy and even the kids aren't too persistent yet about "when is it time to open presents?"

"Chestnuts roasting by an open fire..."

Soon enough, insanity starts to seep in like a party crasher who becomes the hit of the night.

It all begins with Santa, and before you know it, things are getting wacky.

Thanks to Uncle Tim and Aunt Nicole, Shannon (and her siblings) got the elusive zhu zhu pets.

(You can see her disappointment dripping off her face.)

But we expect her to be a little nutty.

Now this is plain craziness.

But then there is always inevitably an end to the giddiness.

This was late afternoon the next day. (Christmas day) It was the moment right before I realized that maybe I had too much delicious Christmas turkey and stuffing and maybe my son didn't have enough.

Isn't that blanket beautiful? Hand made things are such special gifts. But NEVER give an overtired underfed child of 6 such a gift that any adult would love and appreciate before a toy has been presented.

Because it's not pretty.

After what felt like all night, Dan finally calmed down enough to come out of solitary confinement (well not really, I stayed with him) and say thank you and open his other gifts. But he was so whipped by then, his reaction was pretty mellow.

Christmas night, we were putting the kids to bed and I noticed Dan's face was all blotchy. When I asked him what happened, he said he wanted to find out what it felt like to actually "shoot his eye out" (as in "A Christmas Story" which we had just finished watching the end of.)

What are we gonna do with these kids?

2009-12-23T22:35:00.000-05:00

Now I thought these quotes from yesterday's post were way too easy! It seems I have been watching too much tv while everyone else has been making rather merry with family and stuff. Here are the answers.

1. "What was the name of The Lone Ranger's nephew's horse?" "Victor. His name was Victor."

A Christmas Story

2. "You, you could be an undigested bit of beef, a piece of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more gravy than of grave in you."

A Christmas Carol

3. " Rats. nobody sent me a Christmas card today. I almost wish there weren't a holiday season. I know nobody likes me, why do they have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?

A Charlie Brown Christmas

4. "Oh c'mon. You know Santa isn't on your brother's payroll." "Well then he's grossly unfair, that's what. Traipsing around in that stupid sleigh of his. Stirring up cold winter breezes and causing everybody to think fondly of snowball fights and sleigh rides and ice hockey."

said by Heat Miser in "The Year Without a Santa Claus"

5. "Caribou!"

Polar Express

6. "Why for fifty-three years I've put up with it now!"

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

7. "Who wants to see somethin' pretty?"

The Homecoming

8. "He's an angry elf."

Elf

9. "You don't like coconuts! Say brainless, don't you know where coconuts come from?"

It's a Wonderful Life

10. "I always feel better after I've hugged a cow."

The Homecoming

11. "In the heat of battle, my father wove a tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan."

A Christmas Story

12. "Fog's as thick as peanut butter!" "You mean pea soup." "You eat what you like, I'll eat what I like!"

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

Well, you've only got a day. I strongly suggest you get crackin' and spend some more time in front of the tv because I don't want to be the only loser who remembers this stuff.

It seems I had too much time on my hands today and no need to bake pies or make bread for Christmas or anything.

Please please do not click on this link. Or this one. And absolutely not this one. (I almost didn't include that one because the scene where they put Dan's head on a girl's body really bothers me.) I know not what I do. Except everybody else is doing it...

Also, I'm a cheapskate and I am still pondering paying the 4.99 they want to download it so maybe if I'm lucky, it won't even work.

Here's to being a goof for the holidays!

2009-12-22T21:57:00.000-05:00

Christmas is just about upon us now. Most of our gifts are wrapped. My lists have been checked. All that's left is the baking. (I plan to make a scrumdidlyumptious pumpkin pie, a sweet-as-sin chocolate pie and mom's best ever we're-so-spoiled-to-have-been-raised-with homemade rolls.)

So for now, let's have a little fun. Everyone has their favorite Christmas movie they like to watch each year right? I have a bunch. In fact I've already seen most of them at least once this season.

So here's the challenge. I'm going to write a quote (hopefully not too obvious of one) from several of my Christmas faves and you guys try to guess what special/movie it's from.
Sound like fun, or a pain in the tush?

Well no one says you have to do it.

But I triple dog dare ya. (no, that's not one yet. That one's too easy.)

Here we go:

1. "What was the name of the Lone Ranger's nephew's horse?"
" Victor. His name was Victor."

2. "You, you could be an undigested bit of beef, a piece of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more gravy than of grave to you."

3. "Rats. Nobody sent me a Christmas card today. I almost wish there weren't a holiday season. I know nobody likes me, why do they have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?"

4. "Oh c'mon. You know Santa isn't on your brother's payroll."
"Well then he's grossly unfair that's what. Traipsing around in that stupid sleigh of his. Stirring up cold winter breezes and causing everybody to think fondly of snowball fights and sleigh rides and ice hockey."

5. "Caribou!"

6. "Why for fifty-three years I've put up with it now!"

7. "Who wants to see somethin' pretty?"

8. He's an angry elf."

9. "You don't like coconuts! Say brainless, don't you know where coconuts come from?"

10. "I always feel better after I've hugged a cow."
*that one's a gimme since the answer is on a recent post. I just wanted to make it to 10.*

11. "In the heat of battle my father wove a tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over lake Michigan."

12. "Fog's as thick as peanut butter." "You mean pea soup." "You eat what you like! I'll eat what I like!"

Clue*** There might be a double or two in there.

What are your favorite quotes from holiday specials?

2009-12-21T23:28:00.000-05:00

Because I'm really stuck and can't think of ANYTHING interesting to say, I'm going to list 10 embarrassing things about myself. Because when in doubt, humiliate yourself. My mantra.

1. I told my son to "man up" today. He's 6.

2. I've read all the Twilight books and all the Harry Potter books. And I enjoyed them more than books written for... you know, grown ups. (I've also seen and enjoyed all the movies, though I'll never reveal if I'm team Jacob or Edward, that's personal)

3. I just cooked a breakfast meal for myself at 11:30 pm. (eggs and hash browns with cheese. Yummy)

4. I wanted a horse so bad(ly?) when I was a kid, I used to set up jumps in the backyard and "canter" over them myself.

5. People think I'm a quiet person. The truth is, I'm only quiet when other people are around. Trust me, you DO NOT want to be around me when "Total Eclipse of the Heart" comes on the radio.

6. People also often think that because I'm "quiet" and I wear glasses and often pull my hair up that I'm a librarian-type and very smart. Truth: I can psychoanalyze what went wrong with Jon and Kate but don't ask me where North Dakota is. I don't know.

7. I spend copious amounts of time trying to better my score in Bejeweled.

8. I use words like copious to make myself feel smarter. Really. Secretary of state? No idea.

9. I once had to fight the strong urge to call Jon Stewart "Jimmy Stewart" to his face because I couldn't remember his real name. I really saved that situation when I did say to him "You're famous, aren't you?" Brilliant.

10. I'm extremely gullible. I once smiled and told the repair man no problem when he jokingly told us that the leak was mostly fixed.

So before you go all judgemental on me with your she-doesn't-even-know-who-the-sec.-of-state-is, keep in mind that at least I'm a very nice person. Just don't ask my husband to confirm that.
(it's Clinton isn't it. Who's Rumsfeld?)

Anyone want to share anything embarrassing? It's only the internet. Trust me, I'm smart. (translation--pitiful)

2009-12-18T18:50:00.000-05:00

We had a "rhino" over for dinner tonight. Surprisingly, rhinos make lovely dinner guests.
He was as quiet as a church mouse, he cleaned his plate, and he used manners that would rival Martha Stewart's at a tea party.

And once he was reminded that both Jesus AND Santa are always watching, he begrudgingly allowed his two sisters to share his habitat.

That's the baby rhino taking a nap. Shhhh...be quiet.

Virtually Wordless Wednesday

2009-12-16T22:46:00.000-05:00

Ever notice that anytime the word "virtually" is used, you can pretty much assume that whatever is being sold/said is a lie?

"Use this at-home waxing kit--it's virtually pain-free!" Yeah, ok. Thanks anyway.

Finally, it's beginning to look and feel like Christmas.

We've got some cold.

We've got some snow.

And best of all, we've got lots of Hot Hot Hot Chaa-co-laat!

Life is good.

2009-12-15T23:05:00.000-05:00

I just watched this movie.

I experienced a combination of emotions I've never felt before while viewing a film.
Most movies are either funny, or sad, or dramatic and sad, or sometimes just pathetically dramatically sad to the point it's funny. (Legends of the Fall--I mean come on, how many people are you gonna kill off just to try to squeeze one more tear out?)

I felt like I wanted to laugh and cry the entire movie. Some parts made me laugh out loud, though nothing made me actually cry. (usually a dog has to kick it or something to get that much of an emotional reaction from me)

Aside from all the underlying themes like following your dreams, and the importance of a spouse's support, I really want to go cook something right now.

At 11:18 at night.

Because one of the points made in the movie is that at least food is, for the most part, reliable.

And it's substantial.

Of course it's what people turn to when everything else is all out of whack. I may not know how we're going to keep paying for the kids' tuition, or what I want to do with my life (let alone qualified to do) when the kids grow up, but at least I know that I can make Ranch Style Chicken and I will enjoy every bite of it. Never mind that I'll weigh 600 pounds by the time I'm forty, at least I'll be happy. I cook more now than I ever did. Not because I enjoy cooking, it's because at some point between college and now, I started to not like nacho supremes from Taco Bell so much anymore. (my 21 year-old self is gasping in shock right now) I realized that there was not in fact a food fairy that granted wishes for chicken enchiladas and homemade chocolate chip cookies. And that these things were something I could create consistently and well. (at least if I have a recipe. I don't do that make-it-up-as-you-go kind of cooking. I need guidelines. A map. I am not creative in that department)

I just wish I felt about exercising the same way Jane Fonda does.

2009-12-14T21:50:00.000-05:00

I was grumpy.

Feeling a lot like how Mr. Grinch does towards those noisy Whos down in Whoville.

I wasn't expecting much success when we got to grandma's for our second annual cookie decorating/exchange get together. Last year, I brought only Shannon and we had a lovely time. But this year as the situations had it, I brought the whole family except for Tim. (he had a nasty cold)
I found a recipe for cut-out cookies from Pioneer Woman and decided to give it a try.
It called for painting the cookies before they are baked, with minimal frosting after. (just white glaze with a tip) This sounded very appealing to me since I'm all over the idea of Christmas cookie cut-outs. But when it comes to doing it, about halfway through I start to get anxious and subsequently very sloppy - either grossly laying on the frosting so thick just looking at them sends me into a diabetic coma, or giving up and leaving poor Rudolph naked and plain.

Of course, you see where I am going with this. Turns out this method is very effective at holding little Whos' noisy "pampoodles and wuzzles" at bay.

They were extremely focused and QUIET. And, I didn't have to decorate as many cookies with my little elf helpers doing most of the work.

I couldn't very well expect to stay grumpy when there was family and frosting involved now could I?

2009-12-11T17:08:00.000-05:00

How much pull do you think Santa really has? Because while I stupidly thought that we were all set, both Shannon and Daniel have thrown a nice curve ball to my ill-fated plan.

Shannon had wanted a pillow pet since she saw the ad in the fall. She saw a knock off at Aldi's a couple weeks ago and she fell in love with it. Being the responsible parent I am, I left my girls in the van and mumbled something about forgetting chocolate chips. Then I scooted inside and purchased the frog pillow-thingie knock-off for Santa, (since I know he's so busy) and finalized my shopping for the kids. (or so I thought)

Right. Done. No more worries about that.

Wrong of course. Since then, Shannon has crafted a lovely letter to Santa complete with a painstakingly rendered picture of a very different dolphin pillow pet that we mailed to Santa via Macy's this weekend. "Mommy, can you check the pillow pet site to see if they have any yet pleeese?" Not to mention those stupid zhu zhu pets are still nowhere to be found. And she wanted those before they were the "must have" toy this year.

Life is so unfair.

I'm trying to do my best to not get stressed about these things but Shannon only has a little bit of time before her believing days are over and how do I explain that even Santa can't work miracles?

Daniel has also conveniently changed his mind about what his little heart desires for Christmas. I put in the word to Santa to get a drum set from Target for him and then I cleverly convinced Dan that he wanted one for Christmas.

We've even been practicing what to say when sitting on Santa's lap. "What do you want for Christmas little boy?"
"I want an official Red Ryder carbine-action..."
No no. It's "I want a d r u m s e t."
Now Dan has decided he wants a lego combine set and that's what he's going to say tomorrow at breakfast with Santa. (I shouldn't worry, I'm sure he'll be paralyzed with fright if he even makes it into Santa's lap.)

He's not going to get that. I'm not running around returning things willy nilly just to appease the ever-changing little minds of my fickle children. But I hate for their faith in Santa to be broken early because jolly ol' St. Nick can't deliver the right goods.

When I didn't get that horse I HAD to have year after year, I think I cut out at least 5 years of Santa believin' Christmases.

At least my kids only want toys.

They just want the wrong ones.

Wordless Wednesday (except it's Thursday)

2009-12-10T22:45:00.000-05:00

2009-12-08T22:07:00.000-05:00

Remember this lovely little story about working hard and sharing your bounty?
I remember loving this tale when I was a kid. I think we had the book at grandpa's so hearing it always meant we were on vacation there.
You can't go wrong with repetition and this book has lots.

"Not I" barked the lazy dog.
"Not I" purred the sleepy cat.
"Not I" quacked the noisy yellow duck.

I found myself right in the middle of this dialogue today.

Only I wasn't quick enough with my "Not I", so guess who got to be the hen? (like I don't already feel like one often enough)

At church this morning, mom, dad and I sat in the east wing. Something I was just commenting I hadn't done in a while. (something I won't do again for a long time) Fewer people sit in this smaller section. Plus we were there early so I suppose it was fate when we were approached by an usher and asked to do the collection.

With speed I've only witnessed when guacamole is on the table was my dad's "not I" followed immediately on my right with mom's equally surprisingly quick "not I" which left me alone and abandoned.

"Not it!" Is it too late to say "not it?!"

Well, it's church, I can't say no. Besides, how hard can it be?
"Just pass the basket and get a head count."

No problem. Wait, what? A head count? You want me to delicately dodge these innocent people's heads with the 5 foot basket-covered javelin and count everybody? Do you know who you are talking to? I manage to trip on nothing daily and I accidentally injure my loved ones on a regular basis and you want me to collect money from these nice (mostly frail elderly) folks?
Ok, but you're asking for it.

Well, I managed, but part way down one side, (at this point I'm keeping pretty good count) I noticed another person collecting on the other side. Wait, am I supposed to count just my people or everybody? 14, 15, 21, 19 ... wait, am I supposed to count only those giving or all the people in this section?
Wait, what number was I on again?

I meet The Main Section Usher and he looks at me seriously for my top-secret code.
I whisper "38".
He asks again, glancing over at my section skeptically.
"38?" I squeak. This is too much pressure. Isn't it time for the Our Father yet?
He nods solemnly and takes my collection.

In my head I hear "That'll do pig, that'll do." (name that movie)

Better not let me get up there and read or anything. You know I'll say something like "may the force be with you" instead of "thanks be to God" or something.

2009-12-07T20:48:00.000-05:00

We went to the Christmas parade in my hometown this past weekend.
You know, the event that unlike the balmy much more comfortable summer parade, takes place at night on the coldest night of the year?
Every year?

That's ok. We bundled up and had a nice time.

Sometimes it was loud.

But most of the time it was pretty.

This was my favorite float. I wonder how much saran wrap they used and how long Mr. and Mrs. Claus were stuck in there?
Which brings me to an observation.

I saw three different santas on three different floats. Are we trying to cause trouble for the parents here?

Fortunately the kids didn't really catch on so no explaining was necessary. The whole "santa's helpers" argument always sounded lame to me so I just let that nugget of info slide.

Hot cocoa at grandma's makes it easy to forget too. (and helps thaw out our tushies)

2009-12-04T23:44:00.000-05:00

Every Christmas season I have to see this movie.

It was the pilot for the series "The Waltons" which I never really watched, I was more of a Little House kind of girl. But the movie is great. It's got a horse-drawn sleigh, two old batty sisters, and the best line ever: "I always feel better after I hug a cow."

Patricia Neal plays the mother who I could listen to talk about the history of dirt and I would never get bored. She has a slow, growling southern sort of a voice that makes me want to curl up by the fireplace and pretend I'm Laura Ingalls. (except in my daydream there would be indoor plumbing)

It's a simple movie, the plot is just a large family (seven kids and two grandparents) surviving during the depression and waiting for daddy to come home on Christmas eve. But there are moments that transport me back to all those Christmases at Grandpa's. The old farmhouse, the mama cooking in the kitchen, the kids cracking walnuts, decorating the tree, and laying awake in bed on Christmas eve, all stir up childhood memories and a longing to go back to Grandpa's.

The house was sold before I had kids so I was never able to bring my own kids there. But in retrospect, I'm kind of glad I never could because it would change how I felt about the place. I will always be the kid listening to the soft murmur of the television from upstairs in my bed while the grown-ups stayed up late. (or late to me, it was probably only 7:00)
And the kid who would practically pee her pants because she was petrified to make that long scary journey upstairs to the only bathroom at the end of a long dark haunted hallway.
And the kid who loved to bang Chopsticks on the piano all day.

Sometimes I'd still be awake when Grandpa came up to bed. On the occasions I'd get the other bed in his room, I used to love listening to him fall asleep while reading his books. I'd look over, and he would be lying there, mouth wide open, no teeth, with his book on his chest snoring away.

I don't really have any memories of things I got for Christmas at Grandpa's, but I'll never forget the snow piled up to the windows and the smell of the house and the records playing in the room by the stairs and the tree with the old hot bulbs and tinsel clumped on the branches and the scent of mom's rolls baking in the oven.

And mom and dad in the kitchen.

2009-12-02T21:57:00.000-05:00

I was taking a well deserved time-out in our bedroom tonight and flipping through the channels till my head cleared a bit.

Dan and I were not seeing eye-to-eye about how to share, but also more importantly, why the x-large pop-up tent is not a good idea to pop up in close proximity to the precariously perched tree.

A few minutes into an episode of ICarly, (I've never really watched it and I needed to see why Shannon likes it) I found myself some company. Shannon. Who was thrilled that I was watching that show on my own. (I'm feeling so good about watching a kid's show by myself right about now)

Then of course Dan and Kate came and my time out was officially over.

Which was ok because: 1. I was in my bed under the covers. And b. AMC was showing something much better than pre-teen fluff.

All of us cuddled on our bed and enjoyed maybe 45 min. of this movie which I figured was perfect because it's about monsters but it's funny. (my favorite is the "puttin' on the ritz" scene)

Then later Dan and Katie did this. (warning--it's noisy and obnoxious)

I'm not sure whether to call it performance art or WWF but I got a kick out of it.

2009-12-01T20:53:00.000-05:00

I used to pride myself as being a fairly accomplished decorator when it comes to the holidays. At least as far as our finances will allow. (probably good that they don't allow much because this house would look like Who-ville on acid.)

I like to mix a blend of traditional outdated all-american style (wall sconces and wreaths) with a nice splash of childish fun. (stuffed abominable snowmen and leg lamp ornaments)

Forever the master in the decorating department, I gladly do all the outside lights and the tree myself. When I turn down Tim's offer to help, I'm being totally honest.

No sentimental let's-all-do-it-together-crap, I know exactly where I want things to go and if the kids want to help, that's fine. I just put it back where it should go after they go to bed. (do I have a problem? Na.)

I think my throne as queen of all things prettily bedecked may be at risk. I sense a coup d'etat is in process and mutiny might be imminent. (maybe I should lighten up about where the little ceramic santa goes in the village...)

Just as he does with anything he sees, Daniel watched me in awe like an apprentice soaking up Michelangelo, (yes, I'm that good.) (warning-extreme sarcasm) then STOLE my precious adornments and ran off to his room to make his own Christmas town.

How dare he! ( Though I do commend his use of star wars figures as stand-ins for townsfolk)

Lights must be dimmed to get the proper effect.

My favorite part.

It's the deranged Easter bunny who must have angered the native in Beetlejuice and is now being carefully monitered by the Geico eyes just to make sure the people of Bedford Falls are no longer in danger...

I've never seen anything that screams Merry Christmas more than this display.

I'm so proud.

love (?) letters

2009-11-30T23:09:00.000-05:00

Shannon spent some quality time this weekend evaluating her relationship with each of us.

It says:
Dear Kate you are the best best sister ever.

I think you are nice becas you have been grate. I tink you shode be in my club.

ps you shode live in peas forever.

*lovely drawing of heart in a heart*

Love, Shannon

I find this next one (above) to be a particularly accurate description of mommy's and daddy's unending patience and ceaseless ability to never lose our tempers...

It says:
Dear mom and dad

you are the best in t wold. I tink you are nice

ps you are grat and nice and loveing

Love, Shannon

*another beautiful rendering of multiple hearts*

But I find the one above to be a work of high art whose raw honesty rivals that of Hilary Clinton's memoirs.

It says:
Dear Daniel

I do not like the you.

You must not no the better code that I like. You will find out wy becus you have been mean.

ps you may not come in my room ever agen.

from, Shannon

*darling drawing of a clenched fist and a fractured heart*

Precious

2009-11-28T01:13:00.000-05:00

He may not realize it, but I really need him. I'm grateful he's around to do for me all the mundane kinda stuff I'm too incapable and too much of a chicken to do myself. (and I'm really not being sarcastic here... really.)

For example, how could I ever take the picture below by myself? There are rare occasions when I ask Tim to take the shots and when I see the results, I wonder why I don't burden him with this chore more often.

I like this picture for two reasons:
One, it is a rare one that has both me and my kids in it.
Two, we are all wearing hoods so I can pretend we are all a band of death eaters on our way to torment some poor muggle. (not that I condone such activities, but someone's gotta play the bad guy in imaginary Hogwart's land.)

Also, I could never do this.

I know because I gave it the ol' college try and failed miserably. Even with a chain saw I know I'd most certainly hack up the poor tree till it looked like Charlie Brown's. (assuming I didn't mortally wound myself in the process, which, given my excellence at klutziness, would absolutely happen.)

I also need this man because just a couple minutes ago, I got up to fetch the camera to download these pictures when I made eye contact with a fat black eight-legged friend, daring me to pass.
As I tiptoed around, I nervously called up to Tim "Hon...get a weapon..."

"What?"

*urgently* "Get something destructive and get down here right now!"

*now, because he knows me so well he is catching on to what I am talking about and asks* "How large?"

I make a circle with my thumb and forefinger "This large!"

*searching for a book or a baseball bat or a piano, he finds a hammer* "Where is it?"

*me trembling on the stairs* "Just walk straight and look left."

"This? This is it? Come see. I want to make sure that this is it and there isn't another one."

*horrified and shaking violently* "Yeah, that's it."

And just like that, he took care of it, after which he promptly reminded me what a wus I am by saying "I thought you meant the body was that big. Not the whole thing."

At least he didn't catch it and chase me around like a silly schoolboy.

My hero.

Don't get a fat head about it now, that tree you're carrying is only mom's teeny one. I pulled our big fat one on the cart uphill.

Both ways.

I can do some things.

2009-11-25T21:48:00.000-05:00

The daunting 10 pounds of potatoes have been heartlessly peeled, diced, cooked and mashed to a pulp.

The homemade beautiful-before-it-was-baked-but-now-resembles-a-wet-coffee-filter crust is filled with chocolate pie and is resting comfortably in the fridge.

The vat of fresh green beans have all been unceremoniously snapped and are awaiting further preparation.

I am sufficiently hungry. (and can't seem to stop drinking milk, what's that about?--shut up Maureen, it's NOT what you want to say)

So in the words of a teeny tiny Dumbledore,

"Let the feast begin!"

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! Pig out!!

How many?

2009-11-24T22:46:00.000-05:00

How many times while out and about with the kids can I feign excitement before I start to actually be thrilled to see... oooh! A corvette! or... Wow! A flagpole! or... Did you see that duck? Awesome.

How many times does a person have to say "be careful" before a kid really is and chooses not to leap from the top stair because mommy actually knows what she is talking about?

How many toys have to break before a kid stops doing whatever it is that is breaking them?

How many times can one see Wonder Pets before they spontaneously break out into the theme song during adult conversations?

How many times do I have to convince my kids there is no boogieman before I start to believe there just might be one?

How many times do I have to say "If you keep doing that, it might break" before mommy is proven right and it thankfully does fall apart?

How many "no no, kitty doesn't like that's" does it take to learn that cats don't appreciate the finer points of fashion?

How many processed chicken nuggets can a kid consume before they are grossed out by what they really are?

How many times can a person watch Dora the Explorer before they start to shout everything three times like Dora does?

How many times does mommy have to say "yes, what is it?" before the kids stop saying mommy mommy mommy and start to ask a real question?

and finally...How many times can I put myself in time out before it's considered neglect?

Anyone else have any How Many's?

2009-11-23T20:38:00.000-05:00

And so, with the ending of the weekend, so ends another hectic November chocked full of birthday celebrations.

My exaggerated sighs of relief are driving my family to wonder if I might have asthma.
No more presents...did we get the same number for both? (it's much easier when the numbers are smaller, as in one major with two little ones)
Were the (gazillion) parties enough to leave them lasting and fond memories?
No more baking or preparing, all school and family parties have now been completed with a satisfactory grin on my face knowing I went that extra mile to make the kids happy. I'm sure those regular-ol chocolate chip cookies really wowed them to pieces.

Dang, this week is Thanksgiving isn't it? You know, the holiday where we cook and bake like crazy?

You know, the holiday after which Christmas preparation explodes??

That's ok. I can't wait to make Pioneer Woman's mashed potatoes. And my homemade chocolate pie. And ok, I guess I'll make something healthy, like beans. But not without slapping tons of butter on them.

And as for Christmas gifts, that's thankfully mostly done.

So much for my "asthma". (she says while dreaming of mom's homemade rolls...)

I was curiously watching a squirrel out my window today when I turned to Tim and said "It's so funny how they sit on a branch and shake their tails like crazy."

To which he replied "Oh! Is that the light gray one?"

??? No Tim, It's one of those rainbow ones I've been telling you about.

(sorry hon, I couldn't resist.)

2009-11-20T21:40:00.000-05:00

After the recent Gremlins debacle, I was thrilled to my tootsies when Daniel picked "A Christmas Story" as our movie for the next couple of nights.

Sure, it's a little early, so to you naysayers I say "F-dash-dash-dash"-you. (sorry mom)
It's fun, and I could watch it "in the middle of the summer on the equator!" and it would still be just as entertaining to me.

Sunday, Dan and I were looking at the ads in the paper and we came across the Dick's one. Because it's hunting season, the cover was plastered with guns and rifles. Though Toys R Us kept him occupied a smidge, his eyes sparkled while looking at this.

He started pointing out the different models, commenting his own made-up ideas like: "this one's for a girl (he pronounced it grill) see? it's pink."

I lovingly looked over, nodded and said "those look like the Red Ryder BB gun from the movie don't they?" ( I know these things, guns are my specialty)

Dan says "What's the difference between a beebee gun and a real gun?"

I knowingly answered "BB guns shoot beebees and don't do as much damage, real guns are much more dangerous."

Dan gives my midsection a quick worried glance and then says:
"Mom, does a beebee gun shoot babies like from your tummy?"

After drying my tears of joy that my son could be so knowledgeable about hunting equipment, I think I corrected him as best as I knew how.
Every time we try to correct him, the conversation goes like this:
Dan- "It's b-a-y bee gun!"
US- "NO, it's bee-bee gun."
Dan- "Yeah, that's what I said. B-a-y bee gun! It shoots baybees!""

Tonight, after saying our prayers, Daniel wanted to add his own spin on a prayer.

He cleared his throat and said importantly:

"God of Life.
Give me food.
And thank you for all the people in the world.
And help me.
Amen."

And I said "Amen!"

The only time I will allow everyone to get up from the table during a gourmet pizza meal (which you can hear me chewing) is to rock to Journey. So what if the "guitar" is backwards?

2009-11-19T22:12:00.000-05:00

I'm fresh out of originality and the kids are doing the same stupid things, (except that Shannon's social life has abruptly jumped to she-now-has-more-friends-than-I've-had-my-whole-life status) so I'll post some funny stuff I read on someone else's cleverer blog. (though the material isn't theirs either so no guilt for me... at least till mass on Sunday.)

1. I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

2. More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

3. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

4. I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter?

5. Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no
one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk

6. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

7. The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

8. Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on Facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with?

9. There is a great need for sarcasm font.

10. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the heck was going on when I first saw it.

11. I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.

12. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

13. I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

14. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

15. Was learning cursive really necessary?

16. Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".

17. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

18. Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.

19. Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

20. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

21. Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies"

22. What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

23. While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.

24. MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

25. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

26. I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

27. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

28. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

29. Bad decisions make good stories

30. If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.

31. Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....

32. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

33. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.

34. There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

35. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

36. "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

37. I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

38. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

39. I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

40. Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles...

41. As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

42. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

43. It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.

44. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

44. My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?

45. I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.

46. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

47. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

48. The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard before dinner.

2009-11-17T23:09:00.000-05:00

Sorry this is so teeny but I couldn't resist posting it. Although it may appear to have been taken in the 80's, it was only a couple years ago. It was an 80's/90's themed party so up went the collars and on went the bright blue eyeshadow. From sticker albums to smurfs, we paid tribute to all things from our youth.

Renee and Sue have been my faithful friends since kindergarten. We were bus-buddies. Actually, technically, Renee was not supposed to ride our bus but in her true "Renee" style, she managed to get her dad to drive her to our stop so she could be with us. (or at least that's what I'd like to think. Maybe her bus stop was filled with a bunch of morons and we were at least a notch better than that.)

In our little private-school world, all us kids were sorta friends. We all hung out together in random groups at some point and I'm pretty sure all the girls were always invited to the sleepovers. Renee's house was the host of many famous such parties. Anyone remember light as a feather, stiff as a board?
Sue also had a reputation for great parties. She had 4 older siblings who introduced us all to great music like B-52's. And let's not forget our mutual unrequited love for Duran Duran and Rick Springfield.

Playing talk-show, doing the hand jive, Mtv, dancing, watching the scariest parts of "Carrie" over and over, Renee's demands I say "goodnight" before falling asleep, trolling around our hometown to buy penny candy from The Village Shop or stickers from the bookstore, those cheesy dances at school...all these experiences included Renee and Sue and made my childhood richer.

Tonight, we celebrated my birthday at Maria's and I laughed till I cried.
So in keeping with the Thanksgiving season, I'm forever grateful that I have these ladies as good pals still today. In elementary school, there were the girls who manipulated and schemed just to rank up in popularity. It sometimes got quite nasty. And there were those who were just friends and never got caught up in all the drama. Renee and Sue were those guys. They stayed the course and even when I had lots of talking behind my back and wild rumors flying, they never believed any of it. Never have I known more honest and decent people as these two and I am so lucky that they are still my friends.

Thanks for great memories and friendships I'll value always guys!

2009-11-16T20:58:00.000-05:00

We hosted a joint birthday party on Saturday for Shannon and Daniel since their birthdays are so close together and I have not the energy nor the desire to have separate parties. Because we have a relatively small house, I told Shannon she could invite 3 friends. (2 originally but I realized 3 girls total would not be wise--girlfriend drama has already begun)
Also there were 2 boys, (our friend's kids, Shannon and Daniel's ages) and Katie.

That's 8 kids total. Not too much really when I think about all the parties I've dropped Shannon off to where there were 12 or more kids let loose wreaking havoc.
Who are these parents and how do they not go bonkers?

Here is what was supposed to be 3-tiered cake but turned into 2 because I love to think up grand ideas without researching or practicing, and so last minute modifications became necessary. If I kept it at 3 tiers, not only would it look like a big pile of you-know-what, gravity would have gotten the better of it and we would have had crushed cake souffle for dessert.
So now we have lots of left-over cake.

Lots.

I really was organized at first. I even had chores written on the calendar for every day leading up to party day. Which would work if I actually continued checking off my list after Wednesday. Then I ran out of steam causing me to go berserk on Saturday morning in a vain effort to clean a house that was just about to get messed up again anyway.

Thank you Tim for helping clean while I decorated the ridiculously time consuming cake. I never anticipated how much time it takes to make stupid little multi-colored candies. I've got to stop looking at stuff and saying to myself "Look at that. I can do that. It'll only take a couple hours."

It never takes just a couple of hours.

Once the guests arrived, I realized (sort of panicky) that I hadn't really planned any activities for these folks. Was I supposed to entertain these little people? I guess I figured they would just run around screaming and playing anyway so why bother to try to get them to play Parcheesie? In retrospect, next time I will absolutely plan something because when 4 (only 4!) 8 year-old girls (well ok, and 3 boys) lack an organized event, they make up their own chaos.

Some of which included this catchy diddy: "Girls go to college to get more knowledge and boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider" (repeat a million times to get the full effect)

Oh but the boys had great comebacks like "Yeah? Well girls are dumb!"

Future politicians here.

I'm convinced that hell consists of fire, brimstone, and hundreds of these clackers in the hands of screaming pre-teens.

2009-11-12T22:27:00.000-05:00

Let me start by reminding everyone that parents make mistakes. (particularly me...a lot)

Usually they are along the lines of "Oh, so that's how you do math now? It was different back in my day." or "I know you must have taken my lip gloss because I can't find it anywhere."
It can be easy to put the blame on the kids because they are wrong so much of the time and are in constant need of adults' expert guidance and wisdom to help them navigate through life successfully.

Not in this case.

Here, I'm just plain wrong and I have no excuse or justification.

As I was searching for our next flick for movie night, I quickly passed over all the same old ones we've seen a million times. (Cars is great but by the 1,458th viewing, even the tractor tipping loses it's magic)

I came upon Gremlins, released in 1984.
Back then, movies for kids were a little edgier and I'm pretty sure PG-13 was in it's infancy. (if it existed at all yet)

I have fond memories of this movie. I saw it at Grandpa's and thought it was really entertaining and funny. I don't remember being scared or grossed out much so I thought, ok, this is worth a try.
Cute little fuzzy wide-eyed creatures and mischievous green...well, gremlins. This'll be good. Didn't Jim Henson do the puppetry?? (by the way, I'm pretty sure he did not)

BIG MISTAKE!

Last night we watched the first half hour. Adorable little creatures multiply into more furry critters.

Good.
Tonight, part two: sweet fuzzy pets morph into the inevitable gremlins--violence follows.

It's not such a bad movie for slightly older kids, but when the knife-wielding mom microwaved the third gremlin, I made the kids cover their eyes and movie night ended soon after.

I know I'll be up all night with the lights on joyfully singing about raindrops and roses and cream colored ponies to make up for this doozie.

Sorry kids.
(pansies :)

2009-11-11T23:27:00.000-05:00

When Katie started to give me a hard time about taking a nap today, I said "Well, what do you want to bring upstairs with you to sleep with?"
And she proceeded to grab her:
giraffe
chicken puppet
nite nite
plastic clamshell little mermaid happy meal necklace
monster puppet
horsie
and whistle.
It reminded me of the scene in "The Jerk" when Steve Martin threatens to leave saying "I don't need anything! Except I need this ashtray... And that's it! And, I need this paddle game... but that's it! I don't need anything else...I need this..."

Not for not trying but I couldn't get a nice picture of the little diva on her way to nap (she made it very clear she didn't want her picture taken) so I took this one later tonight, surrounded by her growing collection of "what she needs".

2009-11-10T23:31:00.000-05:00

My head is beginning to remind me that even though I have been taking every effort to prevent it, I am getting a cold.
So my brain kind of hurts right now.
I started to look for pictures I could post to avoid using my throbbing cranium to write this, but then I got it in my head I had to find old pictures of Katie because I haven't seen any in a while. Where did they go? How can a digital image get lost? At least in photo albums, if a picture was missing, you knew it went awol because there would be a lonely empty clean square where the photo used to belong.
Now my brain really hurts.
I found some in our documents folder. Why there? Don't really care right now, but I am starting to get the insane urge to acquire actual physical pictures to put in an album so I can avoid hurting my head.

I forgot how cute she looked when her nose turned pink like this.
Sometimes it's fun to lose pictures and then rediscover them. (though I am asking santa to hook me up with the photo fairy and put all my digital pictures together into nice organized albums)

2009-11-09T20:48:00.000-05:00

You'd think being a stay at home mom, I wouldn't care if it was the weekend or not. You'd maybe assume that since I don't have a 9-to-5 job to dread going back to every Monday, that I'd feel happy and content on Sunday nights rather than anxious and angry about the impending ominous beginning of the workweek.

Well, for the most part, that's true. But I still relish the weekend because it's different.

This past Saturday, daddy's work had an open house so we all got a glimpse into the world Tim lives when he's not at home tormenting us. As I was trying to look interested in the spiels about quantum sorters and domestic bulk and some place the employees call "the pez dispenser", what I really wanted to do was take some pictures. (alas, no camera)
Before long, I was pretending I was Indiana Jones and the ark of the covenant was hidden somewhere among all these boxes and scary-high racking shelves.
Except these boxes were way smaller and contained contact lenses, not the historic ark.
And I really don't look much like Harrison Ford.
But Katie got to honk the horn on a fork-lift thingie and Daniel told daddy's boss to "get off his back" so I was still entertained.

Sunday was fun too.
Again, no pictures (sorry)
Shannon, Daniel and I went to church and grandma's on this most excellent unseasonably warm day. We got one last visit to the playground before the snow flies. (and I have tons of great pictures of it in my head)

But the best part of the weekend was dinner Sunday night.

I made ONE MEAL for everyone. I warned the kids that this day was coming and that night, I made the executive decision to make only spaghetti. (well, and meatballs and salad and bread)
And even though Daniel gave us some grief at first, his grumbling belly got the better of him and he came around.
It felt so satisfying. Like this is how it should be.

Shannon may have only been kissing my rear when she declared it "the best dinner ever", but I don't care. It's always nice to hear.

But here we are on Monday and it feels like a Monday even to me.
The tantrums and schoolwork and housework have returned.

At least I'll always have spaghetti.

Yeah, they're sooo funny.
Even still, I couldn't resist this picture.

2009-11-06T23:15:00.000-05:00

Shannon turned 8 today.

I always had to wait till after dinner to get presents. Those are the rules. You must wait all the live long day suffering from self-induced torturous glee thinking about what was waiting at home, ready to be unwrapped and loved.
But because Shannon was about to explode with excitement, (and daddy works nights) we let her open her gift in the morning.

I had to make up for the impending withdrawal I knew she would feel once she got home and realized her present was done and her fun day at school was over.
So I made special cupcakes.
No, I did not put anything funny in them, I just spent more time on them.

They'll do for now, but I'm planning a 3 tiered masterpiece for the real party next week.

I couldn't be more thrilled that what she got crazy over cost no more than $1.79. She liked the locket too but she has been wanting these "gushies" forever and I never got around to getting them. (they are just rubbery tubes put over pencils to save your fingers)
So the lesson here is that if you withhold something simple that you would normally buy any time you were out, (like underwear, socks, food...) give it as a gift on the next holiday and you'll be a celebrity.
Cruel to be kind eh?

2009-11-05T22:41:00.000-05:00

Beware the ghost costumes of Halloweens yet to come.

I like to shop early the day after Halloween to snag the half-off deals on costumes if I can. (Dan's I got 75% off!) The downside to this thrifty technique is that the kids want to wear them NOW. (except Katie. She says she still wants to be a bat again next year. Bless her.)

We (me) just can't seem to let go of the best holiday ever.
I neatly arranged all the stuff the kids would need to make a haunted scene so that when they came home from school, I might not have to be constantly hissing at them to keep it down so Katie doesn't wake up.
I don't know why I expect her to stay asleep or that the other two be quiet. I need to accept the fact that her remaining nap days are numbered and that it's quite impossible to chill out after a behaviorally repressed day at school followed by a killer 40 minute bus ride giving them ample time to regroup before their assault on my eardrums.

Finally. This clever tactic was to give me a bit of time before I had to deal with all three of them at once.
And it worked.

For a whole ten minutes.

Shannon declared hers was a garden and Daniel's was a graveyard "where the skeletons eat out."

Then they wanted to eat them and Katie came down wondering where hers was. Oh well, I'll take what I can get.

Today the pediatrician firmly recommended that the kids eat their veggies. I wonder if I can do the same kind of project with broccoli and cauliflower? I wonder if I'll ever buy cauliflower? Yuck.

At least we do all quiet down for our new favorite show. I say "we" because I make them sit with me on the couch and sush or else I eat their Halloween candy.

It works.

And they like "Say Yes to the Dress."

Shannon not only likes to jump in with an occasional "needs more beading" or "the detail work on that mermaid dress is just gaudy" she's also fascinated by the skinny effeminate manager guy. I'm not sure how to explain him to her yet other than everybody's different. He bothers her a little but I reminded her that he is always the one to walk in and save the day. I'm not telling her any more than that for now.

She turns 8 tomorrow, I need to slow this sucker down.

2009-11-04T08:44:00.000-05:00

They've arrived! It's the holiday season!
Wait you say? It's not supposed to start till after Thanksgiving?
Pshaw.
Why? When there's so much stuff to sell?

I'm not going to get much support on this but here goes.
I really don't mind the season starting this early. (ok, september is pushing it) Having sales early allows me to get that commercial part of the season over with early so that I can focus on the real reason we are celebrating Christmas during the actual season.

I don't like how commercial it's become, but every year I make a choice when I see the ads pop up in October to look forward to the joy and delight that comes with the holidays. Those ads make me think "yippee! Happy family joyful merriment and food time!"
Not "Oh crap, I gotta buy stuff."
It's too bad the season has become so commercial, but rather than complain about it, I choose to let it build the suspense. By limiting presents and talking more about Advent and carols and family, (oooh, the pies, the wonderful pies) we can enjoy the holidays without all the stress.

Ok, I'll admit that if we had more money, we probably would buy and obsess too much about the stuff, so therein lies the blessing of having little money to work with.

So bring on the season early! So what?! We can start to do good stuff like being kinder and spreading good cheer and singing to each other (that's for you Teresa:) and planning menus...
I may say this tongue-in-cheek but the heart of it is true. The holidays are coming and the stores love it. Let's not let them win. Let's just use it as a reminder to be nice to each other. More people need to be just nice don't you think?

2009-11-02T22:15:00.000-05:00

Anyone remember that scene in "Signs" where Mel Gibson is talking to Joaquin (yes I had to look up the spelling) Phoenix in a dark room? It's not particularly scary except that their eyes look like this the whole time.
And that made me nervous.

I think this frightens me a heck of a lot more.

I really struggled with the decision of where to trick-or-treat this year. On the one hand, our neighborhood is our neighborhood and we should really be getting to know the neighbors more than just a quick wave or a 'sorry I backed into you'. (that really happened, though not entirely my own fault)
But on the flip side, Grandma's is way more practical.

Instead of walking an obscene distance while convincing the kids they have to feel the burn before they are rewarded with a stale stick of gum, Tim's hometown street is a lovely short walk. The houses are close together and almost every one has the light on.

And I'm lazy.

*Bing* Easy choice. This street knows how to do Halloween right.

No need to ring doorbells, it's so populated with costumed kids that homeowners better have a backup candy-giver to allow for potty breaks.

All the houses are elaborately decorated. Intricately carved pumpkins, creepy music, orange lights, excessive cobwebs, spiders...oh the spiders. (shudder) One house even had someone dressed up like Mike Myers raking the lawn.
Now that's what I'm talkin' about. (I really regret not getting a picture of that. Or any really good shots. Juggling an unwanted witch hat with a three year old's hand and trying to get a steady shot of moving objects in complete darkness is a skill I haven't mastered yet.)

When I was a kid, our street was all lit up, but it felt more ominous and quiet. There was a tense fear of a real hidden boogieman then, versus the more entertaining quality Grandma's street held.
Because I'm not particularly fond of being up all night convincing my kids there is no boogieman while simultaneously convincing myself of that very same fact, I think we'll stick to Grandma's for now.

I'd much rather see faces like this (nephew Connor) rather than the top one.

2009-10-31T00:05:00.000-04:00

This is it. The last hurrah before the BIG DAY.
Desperate to not be alone for the viewing of one last scary movie, I enlisted the company of my ever faithful siblings. Yes, I called all of them up and demanded that they come over immediately to have the bejiggers scared out of them or else I would never let them forget how much younger than them I am. (sam I am)
Okay, so coincidentally they all sort of invited themselves over here.
On the same night.
At the same time.
Wait a minute... was this some sort of conspiracy or intervention to get me to... I don't know... socialize?

First, Teresa shows up with a wicked hot soup made with real New Mexican chilies. I mean, this was so fiery that by the time I finished a bowl, (with the help of a substantial amount of milk) I was convinced I had been drooling down my perfectly dry chin. It was like I had just been to the dentist for a novocain overdose. Despite the heat, it really was yummy. Or maybe my tastebuds were just fried.

Then, Tim and Nicole show up with a nice variety of super freaky flicks (I admit, per my request) to choose from. It's the night before Halloween. How can we watch anything that isn't scary?

Poor Maureen. Not the biggest fan of the horror genre, she kept trying to steer us more towards the safer, comedic older movies. (Arsenic and Old Lace) Alas, my broken VCR turned out to be a convenient excuse to see what I really wanted to see. (youngest kid here, I often get my way. I'm also a brat)
It was a toss up between Amityville and Scream.
In the end, we went with Scream. Hopefully, Maureen's boys won't get wind of what she saw because she'll never be able to walk into her ancient and shadowy house after dark without wondering if she might be Punk'd by a cloaked, rubber knife-wielding teenager.

Sleep tight Maureen....mwa ha ha ha ha

2009-10-28T21:13:00.000-04:00

In keeping with the Halloween spirit, I suddenly decided to make cut out cookies today. I had lovely visions of perfectly formed and painted little decorated yummies that would make Martha Stewart drool.

Katie helped me do the cut out part and gave me a chance to overcome my obsessive compulsion to make one sheet of all the same cookies.
Lined up neatly.
With O-so-much effort put into getting the very most out of each rolled batch.
I am cured and can now boast my new skill at mismatched cookie sheets and thumb prints in the ghosts.

But I never even got to the decorating phase of my ambitious plan.

Something kept distracting me.

Something that, (nevermind that it was my fault I didn't set the timer on this batch) distracted me from my duties in the kitchen and caused my tender treats to look more like crispy crackers.
What could it be? I'm not sure, but it sounded an awful lot like this to me.

I don't recall too many English words but I do think I heard something mentioned about stupid brother, HATE this house, and EVERYBODY'S SO LOUD!. (is she too young to understand irony?)

Once we started watching the rest of Night at the Museum, she was instantly back to "normal."

I feel an ominous countdown beginning. Tee minus five years till tweenhood.

GULP

2009-10-26T21:11:00.000-04:00

What to write, what to write, what to write...
I have run out of things to talk about.
You're thinking, really? Naw, Mary's sooo talkative and always has so many important ideas to discuss. She's just setting up some clever intro into a funny story.
Because she's so clever.
And funny.
Sorry to disappoint.

We had a lovely weekend.

The Zoo Boo event was crowded. But for less than two hours, (thanks to a Halloween candy overdose) I managed not to completely flip out and go all claustrophobic in response to the intense congestion of strollers and toddlers. And for short spurts of time, I enjoyed the atmosphere.
Saturday night we took the kids to Tim's old high school for a haunted house the students put together.
Good thing it was only $5 because Daniel, on the brink of entering the first haunted classroom, heard the blood curdling scream on the other side and said "No, uh uh. I'm not going in there." (he's no fool) And after that one, the other kids were done too.
So we got our money's worth in cookies and painted pumpkins.

Sunday was beautiful.

It's about time we did this.

It's important to me that the kids jump in a pile of leaves before they are too aware of all the skeevy things that live in the leaves.

That happened to me prematurely and now I feel cheated out of decent, quality leaf-jumping time.

The kids are still young enough to think raking is fun.

Katie was so dedicated, she climbed this tree and pulled the still-green leaves off to put in the pile.

And a nice (but too short) visit from out-of-town family capped off a nice weekend.

Nice.

It's a highly underrated word.

Sometimes it just sums everything up perfectly.

I used to cringe when I was described as 'nice.' It seemed so boring and flat.

But I really like it now.

Because the words that run through my head on a typical day are along the lines of: frenzied, crackbrained, deafening, deranged and cuckoo.

What's wrong with nice? Nothing. It's perfect.

2009-10-22T22:09:00.000-04:00

Some days are so productive and some are more like sick days. Today I unofficially called in sick. I'm not really sick but I did everything a person does when they are at home and bed-ridden with a nasty contagious disease.
Again, I'm not sick.
Just pathetic.
Jammies on till noon, watched morning tv, lunch at one... pretty much I was LAZY today.
As I was nestled snugly on the couch with Katie, we were listening to Neil Patrick Harris sing a song about shoes on Sesame Street and I noticed the lovely leaves outside. They are only pretty for like a day so later I went for a stroll outside to take some nice fall shots.

After about five or so failed attempts at making our suburban neighborhood look more pretty, I decided Katie was much more interesting so I focused on her.

We made a game of pulling down the branches and catching the leaves.

(I just accidentally deleted that pic trying to delete the extra spaces. What is with me lately?)

Till the fun ran out.

Then, (BING!) we rediscovered... more leaves!

Yipee!

So it wasn't a totally unproductive day.

P.S. Happy Birthday neighbor Leah!! Hope it was fun!

2009-10-21T22:44:00.000-04:00

The amount of chocolate I consume in any given time period is always in direct correlation with my stress level at that time. The more I eat, the more anxious I must be feeling. (I think most of y'all know what I'm talking about. You didn't know I was just suddenly transported to Texas though eh... and there's Canada)

Today, during a one hour time frame, I consumed:
* a brownie
* hot chocolate
* a pudding cup
* does the chocolate part of a harvest flavored candy corn count? Cause I ate three of those.
* a mini size 100 grand bar whose destiny was supposed to be in the plastic pumpkin of a lucky young Power Ranger or Harry Potter, but what's a desperate girl to do?

I needed some caffeine-rich, endorphin-releasing high calorie cocoa... stat.
I'm not ashamed.

Daniel's homework was to cut coupons from the Sunday paper to practice using scissors. Knowing this would be a popular activity, I set up a spot for Katie too.
They were nice and quiet for about ten minutes. Then the yelling began. Despite the abundance of coupons, they each of course wanted the same one and I found myself pitifully trying to solve the issue before someone's eye was poked out with blunt child-safe scissors.
When I finally released the potential weapons from the tiny scrunched fists, I made a very poor attempt at humor.
I lightly bonked my son's head with the back of the freed scissors and said "You can't both have the same coupon, there's a whole pile here to pick from, numnuts." ( I gave up mother-of-the-year a long time ago)
Unfortunately he did not see my face and witness the smile I was wearing because he thought I was seriously mad and went tearing upstairs to his room with me calling pitifully after him "I'm not angry! I was only messing around! You are not a numnut!" (I don't even know what that is, it just slipped out.)

And then I had some chocolate.
(Daniel quickly recovered and of course we had a nice talk about all the appropriate things you need to cover in this scenario; sharing, the dangers of sharp objects, and the stupidity of parents)

Then Maureen came by and brought more chocolate.

She's always had a sixth sense about these things.

Bless her.

And her delicious chocolate baked goods.

She helped me begin to figure out this sewing machine so generously given to me by my sister-in-law, Nicole.

I'm not a seamstress by ANY stretch of the word and so if I want to learn how to make fabulous Halloween costumes or angel wings or bunny ears or even patches on Daniel's worn pants, I need to start learning.

Unfortunately I don't possess the gene that makes it a desirable activity for me. I was perfectly happy to watch Maureen demonstrate how it works by sewing on Shannon's Brownie patches for me. Convenient right? I think I'll need a few more lessons before I'm comfortable on my own.

It's going to take some serious chocolate to motivate me too.

2009-10-20T20:13:00.000-04:00

I loved it here!
I'm just going to put up more pictures because it was absolutely that spectacular.
(also, remember the sheep I deleted? Fear not lamb-lovers! There are pics for you too.)

I think the imperfection of the glass makes the windows so interesting.

I remember when we had some of our old six pane windows replaced, I missed the wavyness of the aged glass. Till I opened them without popping a shoulder and almost putting my hand through the glass. Then I got over it.

An ad in the window of a "store."

Something about her expression doesn't have me fully convinced that the effectiveness of the product makes it worth buying...

This doll creeped me out a little.

What's with the super teeny tiny feet?

And here's my sheep.

I swear they were posing for the camera.

I'm like an addict. In the absence of larger four-legged animals, (you who know me know what I am referring to) I went a little nuts taking photos of the sheep.

I was desperate to get one of them open-mouthed saying "blaa a a a " but I'm not that dedicated.
(or rather pitiful?)

2009-10-19T22:03:00.000-04:00

The location a couple chooses to get married at is quite indicative of the types of people they are.
We went to a wedding this past weekend that took place here.

I may not know these people very well, (Tim's coworkers) but I know I like their style.

The rain and cooler temps didn't mar the beauty of this place one bit. (At least not for me. Ask the bridesmaids about their feet after taking pictures all over and they may disagree)

I can't believe I've lived in this area my whole life and never been here before.

It's hard to describe how I felt without sounding corny, but words like nostalgic, fortunate, awestruck and breathless start to paint the picture.

I was already in a happy place when we walked into this house.

Right away, I felt transported to another time and place. (which ok, is the point of the place. Duh mary) The heavy silence broken only by the regular ticking of the mantle clock brought me instantly back to Grandpa's. Even the smell was reminiscent to me of his house.

Though Grandpa's was not even close to this grand of a home, his place held the same feeling for me that this one stirred up.

This room reminded me so much of the front room, right down to the wallpaper.

The vanity, the sewing machine... it all made me feel so sad and happy at the same time.

And right here is where I was going to say that finding this cute fluffy guy (insert picture of sheep I accidentally deleted) made my day complete.

Since I'm likely the only one who cares about the sheep, I guess that mistake worked out for the best.

What a lovely day, rain and all.

2009-10-16T20:40:00.000-04:00

My reasons for writing this blog were mainly to remember all the aspects of parenting through the silly and obnoxious things kids do every day. I don't want to forget this stuff and thanks to my fantastic short-term memory, I've already forgotten what happened yesterday. So I thought this might help.
Also, I wanted to share them with anyone who cared to listen.

When I started, I was quite naive to the fact that there are zillions of other parenting blogs out there. So much for originality. One I follow in particular comes from a dad's point of view which I find interesting. Recently, his blog was showcased on another site dedicated to people who do not have kids and love to berate those that do.

I had no idea there were so many child haters out there. I mean, these people are seriously angry. Apparently all kids are brats and their presence in public is considered vile and obscene and a personal affront to many "child free-ers".

What's obscene are the attitudes these supposed adults are taking by insulting all parents and their families. I understand kids aren't for everyone, and that many are very poorly behaved. But some of these people actually believe all parents are smug such-n-suches who take pride in teaching their kids tricks like misbehaving in public places. Unbeknownst to us, these believers are walking around among us, despising our existence and plotting evil attacks on our blogs. "Sticks and Stones" absolutely applies here.

Unbelievable. As if I walk around thinking less of those who don't have kids.

I've never felt the sting of a hate crime first hand and this doesn't even come close to the very raw (not cyber-world) reality that some must live with day to day. I now have a renewed sympathy for those who suffer from them. Nothing stirred up more anger in me than reading the awful views and malicious comments these people had to say. It took quite a lot of will power for me to not desperately try to defend myself to the hatred. I can't even refer to these folks as people because they've been overtaken by such bitterness. I'm trying not to take it personally.

These folks need lots of prayers, they must be living miserable lives. (not because they don't have kids--I could care less about that. Because of the hatred they feel for their fellow man)
One person actually complained about the format a parent used when they left a comment. Something about it being too large a paragraph with no spaces. Also criticized was the use of two question marks.

Really people? So sad.

Sorry to be a Debbie-Downer. I'm sure something hilarious and interesting will happen over the weekend. Probably involving me making a fool of myself at the wedding we are going to. (I WILL NOT DANCE I WILL NOT DANCE IPROMISENOTTODANCE...)

2009-10-15T23:46:00.000-04:00

One of the selling points to our 1939 home was our basement. Being an older house, one would assume the basement would be a dank, creepy concrete hole to do laundry in faster than a five year old who has to pee.

Not in in this case. Ours is semi-finished which means it is carpeted and relatively spook-free. (thanks to one of the previous owners who informed me that she had a "basement phobia.")

Our computer is located in the basement. (yes, we are still living in 1998 and thus do not own a laptop. [actually, we're just thrifty] actually, we're poor. just kidding...sound like that Kristen Wiig skit yet??)

My point is, I did not come to this basement to write last night (and almost tonight) because I chose to watch scary tv till the wee hours of the night and was not prepared for the spooks I knew must be lurking down here. I'm tempted right now to seek refuge upstairs in bed sucking my thumb because I'm sure there is no good reason to stay here, without the protection of my blankie.

Last night, I returned to a show I hadn't watched in a while called Ghost Hunters. I liked that show because it didn't appear to be forcing any sensationalism as most reality-type programs do. The real reason I probably enjoyed it was because most of the time, (if I didn't fall asleep) it wasn't really scary. It's mostly people walking around in the dark with their "ghostbuster" sensors declaring they felt a tug or heard a thump. I hadn't seen it in a while, and struck with Halloween spirit, I watched it last night.

It was a creepy one and I decided a post was not worth risking a trip to our basement. (phobia-free as it is)

Tonight, I watched "A Haunting in Connecticut." I have mixed feelings about this movie. Certain gory aspects turned me right off from the get-go, but it still left me with enough goosebumps to almost not come down here to write tonight. (aren't you lucky.)

Why do we like to scare ourselves? (we as in half the American public who get a twisted sense of fun from temporary self-induced emotional trauma) I guess it's entertaining to jump out of my skin and be haunted by horrifying images once in a while. Yeah, sure. But I'm picky. There are really only a handful of movies that I consider to be quality freak fests.

These movies scare(d) the bejiggers out of me: (go ahead mom, check your book on them. I'm sure at least a couple are not wholesome)

Great Expectations---the only thing I remember was the wacky old lady burning to death and that freaked me out.

Psycho

What Lies Beneath---My Harrison Ford was changed forever.

The Grudge

The Ring (though that one wasn't too scary)

The Creature From the Black Lagoon---Though not super scary, (actually it's pretty cheesy) it builds great suspense plus it's entertaining.

The House on Haunted Hill (1959)

The Blair Witch Project---This one Tim and I saw in the theater before all the hoop-la surrounded it. I was physically shaking the entire second half of that film.

Halloween---I remember only seeing parts of it when I was a kid (it must have been on tv??) But the part where Mike is seen standing in broad daylight in the bushes left me scared to bike down my own street.

I can't think of any more, help me out. I know there are more out there.
What are some good ones you've seen?

I stay away from those gore/torture fests. I prefer to be unsettled, not psychologically disturbed.

So, tis the season! Go rent that movie that gives you the heebie-jeebies. Just for fun!!

2009-10-14T00:25:00.000-04:00

We went to a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese's this past weekend. (gasp!) It's not really as bad as they say. If you are inclined to sit in the same place throughout the duration of your stay. (because to move means an elaborate dodging of adults and children that would make an olympic triathlon athlete proud) And if you have heavy duty earplugs on. And if you do not have any aversions to the smell of stale food and pee ground into carpet. Or better yet, you have lost your sense of smell altogether. And if you have some really dark sunglasses on, you can have a lovely time.
Seriously though, I'm used to it now and I even kind of like the pizza. Also did you know they now serve beer? Nothing screams "family friendly" like masses of out-of-control children and drunk parents not watching them.

Being a creative (or rather forgetful) mom, I thought a homemade card would be nice.
The birthday boy likes Star Wars and our gift was a Clone Wars gun so I thought keeping the theme would be fun.

I quickly drew a sad little picture of either Boba Fett or a clone trooper, take your pick. (or was Boba Fett a clone? I can't remember)
Then Shannon added a nice little gun.
So far so good.
Once I got the writing done, I asked Shannon to draw whatever her little heart desired all over the rest of the card.

This is what she drew.
At first she wrote "clone" which was supposed to be "clown" but when I mistakenly brought that to her attention, she decided to cover it in that fancy blue arch.
Then she wrote "wedo" which is supposed to be "weirdo" but I let that slide. (no time to start over, which would definately happen should I question her choice of words) Besides, the strategically puffy pants on the "clown" was causing me to convulse and snort as I tried unsuccessfully to not laugh out loud.
The last thing I wanted to do was cause her any frustration leading to the necessity of a new card of which we had NO time to make.
Plus this one is funny and the parents of the birthday boy are our good friends. They would never question her inspiration...maybe I should though?