SPICEY MOM

Look at Me Damn It!

2011-12-10T14:29:00.006-07:00

I've always wondered how my friend with four kids manages to get at least one picture with all her kids more or less smiling, at the camera. I can't even get the two I have to smile, let alone look at me while taking pictures.

Today I hang my head in shame at the loss of complete control while trying to take the annual picture of the kids in front of the tree. The picture I want to put on our Holiday Cards. I even bought special outfits for the kids. I spent an extraordinary large amount on an elephant dress for Cookie, because I liked it, and I knew she would, too. I special ordered a red sparkly "horsie" shirt for Jelly, whom I am now calling Biscuit, since I heard another Mom refer to her child as that, and thought it would be cute to have a "Cookie" and a "Biscuit."

The girls were cute, Cookie all dolled up in her Angel halo and hair out of her face for once because she had a "dance" recital in a Christmas play...a whole other post on that later. But would these little demon children look at me? Would they stop playing for one minute with all the Christmas decorations that have been out for two weeks? Would they sit still? Will my camera please just take pictures and stop trying to recognize fricken faces? After about the 20th shot and not one good photo where both or either are even remotely looking towards me I loose it.
"STOP!SIT STILL. LOOK AT ME. DARN IT! SMILE.STOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPP GETTING UP FOR PEET'S SAKE. STOOOOOOPPPPPPP."

I am now seething. Cookie says, "Mommy, can you stop yelling please." Me to self,"I am the worst Mommy ever." To Cookie, "Sorry sweetie, we're almost done...can you just please look at me instead of playing..."

And then of course when I tell Cookie to hug her sister....the result is a headlock. And then the tugging of the hair accessories and then they were done, and so was I.

Top 12 Crafty Things Every Mom Should Have

2011-09-14T17:15:00.011-06:00

After my rant yesterday, I thought I should post the top twelve things every mom should have for her Crafting Crazy Child.

1. Paint. preferably washable kid paint with brushes of different sizes, but really you can use sponges in a pinch. I love water colors, too.
2. Glue. Sticks that are the purple color that dry clear so they can see what they are gluing. Elmer's clear, and Tacky Glue. "Dot Dot not a lot".
3. Construction paper. Any size will do, but I like to have the large and small.
4. Tissue paper: All different colors. I cut some into squares and keep in plastic baggies. See the elephant we made with tissue paper, sticky sparkle foam and wax paper.
5. Paper plates: For holding paint and creating fun stuff.
6. Googly Eyes: Self Stick are best, but you can help your little one apply a dot of Tacky Glue to
the back of them.
7. Contact paper. In a crafting pinch, make place mats...we have a dozen self made ones. We print out coloring pages of the kids favorite thing, color and then glue to construction paper.
8. Cotton Balls: You can not imagine what you can do w/ those suckers. Cookie once surprised and made little men with cotton balls, Popsicle sticks and construction paper.
9. Popsicle Sticks and Pipe cleaners
10. Pasta different sizes and shapes: You can dye them any color you wish...just place pasta in a plastic baggie, add a tbsp of vinegar and add one drop of food coloring...set out to dry on a lined cookie sheet.
11. Crayons
12. Scissors both adult and kid kind.

May you be driven crazy and may you create adorable stuff to display and brag about to your friends.

Crafty Obsession

2011-09-13T13:00:00.005-06:00

Besides math and science, my most dreaded subject in school was art. I have vivid memories of my 6th grade teacher making us create monthly calendars. Only the best were displayed on the wall each month. Out of a nine month school year, I got my calendar only displayed once, it was my Mother's day one. Every time my teacher would hand back our graded calendars mine would say, "Use a ruler." Letter grade, "C". Damn it I did use a ruler and the fucking lines never ever came out straight no matter how hard I tried! Of course, later in adult hood, I learned how to use a ruler properly. But seriously I hated art. Nothing ever came out as I envisioned, everything always looked horrible. My stick figures were even bad.

Later, as a teacher myself, I learned to embrace art. I became creative. I would make all kinds of wonderful wall displays...with the help of my super talented super artistic boyfriend (now hubby). One of the things that attracted me to Hubby was that he could draw, that he could create anything with his hands. In fact, inheriting his artistic talent was one of the things I hoped the kids would get the most. Embarrassingly using my artistic skills while teaching History to middle schoolers can be funny, when everything one draws looks like a penis. I even encouraged students to be creative, many times I would give them choices on how to show understanding, written or artistic. And I never graded on how well the art was done, but on comprehension.

Now, as a parent I am knee deep in crafting and I am slowly going mad. I hate art. I hate crafting, I hate everything about it, except the joy my kids get in creating it. Cookie asks to craft about 100 times a day. I have an entire cabinet devoted to crafting supplies, which she is bound and determined to go through in a month. I am constantly stepping on sticky crafting things. I have gems stuck to the bottom of my shoes, my feet, and on my couch, in our food. There have been tears over the fact that certain things are not going according to Cookie's vision. There are tears because I say no to crafting, there are tears when I tell her to clean up and stop. There are tears because we don't have any more purple sparkle paper.

I wince when Cookie asks to craft. There is much yelling over crafting...mostly by reluctant me. I want to pull my hair out every morning beginning at 6 a.m., when my little Cookie starts harping about crafting for the day. Here is how the most innocent conversation turns me into the World's Worst Mother.

Cookie: "Can we do crafting"
Me: "Not right now"
Cookie: "I want to do crafting"
Me: "Later, I am not ready to deal with the mess."
Cookie: "I want to do crafting."
Me: "I SAID NOOOOO"
Cookie, now in tears: " I just love it so much. Can't you do crafting with me? I want to do it now."
Me: "I HATE CRAFTING."

Yep, Every. Single. Day. And every single day, I dissolve into a screaming crazy mom because, frankly I suck at crafting, and we end up fighting. Cookie asks me to help her. I tell her what she wants to do is impossible, it just can not work out. That there is no way possible I can do what she wants me to do. She dissolves into tears and begs me. I end up screaming.

Crafting makes me dissolve into a tantrum throwing child. When I was about 11, my Mom, sister, neighbor, and I made Gingerbread houses. Well this uncrafty person ended up smashing her uncooperative house to bits in a fit of frustration with my frosting knife. Picture graham crackers, frosting, and candy flying everywhere with me yelling and screaming, huffing and puffing. We never made Gingerbread Houses again, and I think my Mom gave up trying to craft with me. Girl Scouts was pure torture for this untalented girl.

And to think I was actually happy that it seems my kids got the artist gene! Cause frankly, I am starting to resent my sweet little Cookie and even Jelly, who loves to sit and peel stickies off the backs of gems and stick them to construction paper. Both love to paint, and color and create, and I hate it all. And I am frustrated that Hubby does it so easily with them, when he finds the time. I hate those Moms who come up with cutesy crafting projects and like it. I hate Martha Stuart, too just for her..."let's see what we can make with these pine cones and ribbon." But, mostly I just hate crafting. And I hate that my dinning room table and floor are littered with glue, glitter, stickers, gems, sequins and bits and pieces of paper. As soon as I clean it, they want to start over again. Of course I buy it for them, I contribute to the madness, and I am ultimately the CRAZY ONE in this household.

Not so Mr. Roger's Neighborhood

2011-08-31T22:13:00.003-06:00

I read an article the other day that discussed how more and more people's newspapers are being stolen for coupons. Just when I thought print was dead, it is revived by mega savers. Never in my wildest dreams would I think someone would stoop to stealing another person's $1.65 newspaper for coupons. That was until our paper started disappearing.

At first I thought it was because we had just reopened our account after our trip to California. I had completely canceled our delivery and told them we were moving, in fear that somehow, it would get out we were out of town for an extended amount of time. So soon after renewal our paper would be there one day, then absent the next, then there for two day, well you get the picture. I even had reported at first, what I thought, lousy delivery to the paper. Then it kept happening, so I started to suspect that someone was stealing our paper. And it looked to be just ours, because both my neighbor's were still there. Annoying to say the least.

By chance one morning, I happened to be rearranging the closet by the front door, when I glanced out the window. And I saw IT happen. A family, that I knew as THE family you shake your head at. THE Family, who leave dirty mattresses on their front lawn (okay front weeds). THE family whose kids have been known to ask neighbors for cigarettes or they were going to be in trouble by their Mom. THE family that you are sure social services has made at least one trip to. THE family where I actually was not sure how many kids they had, but was sure each one had a different father. THE family where you were sure the parents were on Meth or some kind of drug. Yeah, that promising to not judge went out the window with THAT family. You see THAT family was walking with their kids to school by my house when the male adult in the group pointed to my paper, said something, and then one of the children picked up my paper.

Needless to say, I went tearing out the front door, in my pajamas yelling at the top of my lungs "So your the ones stealing my paper!" The entire family stopped in their tracks. The little boy who was in possession of my paper dropped it quickly. The toothless mother responded, "It's the first time my son has ever taken it." This comment, got me even more angry. How dare this women blame her child! (Yes I was judging) I saw with my own eyes the "Father" figure tell the kid to pick up the paper. Her child looked stricken. The male adult continued to walk on. And in my not so great moment in front of these children, who obviously needed some good role models, in front of my children who stood at my door with my husband, (in shock and quite confused), I responded, "YOU ARE JUST TRASH! JUST TRASH" And then grabbed my paper, turned around and stormed back into my house.

Husband was left speechless and I must admit, a little proud of me. I was left sheepish, thinking how I could have handled the situation a little better. How I could have used it as a lesson in using one's words nicely to get what one wanted. How maybe it might come back to bite me in the ass in the form of T.P., eggs, or something worse. How maybe, that mother, according to those friends with a different perspective on Facebook, might have needed the coupons. How maybe my $1.65 a day paper was not worth it. How instead of judging, I should have helped. There's a reason my American Indian name, given to me by a friend in High School was, "Speaks With Foot in Mouth." It will one day be my downfall.

When a Good Cookie Goes Bad

2011-08-07T09:18:00.003-06:00

Food allergies are annoying for those of us without them. But for those with severe ones, it is absolutely frightening. Because my Cookie is lactose intolerant and allergic to pumpkin, I have had to become "THAT" parent. You know, the one who insists that no one brings cheese or milk for snack at school. As any parent of a child with a food allergy knows, it gets harder as the kids get bigger. Having to order spaghetti at Chuck E. Cheese while everyone else enjoys pizza at a party, or forgoing the summer trips to the D.Q. are just small sacrifices. It is heart wrenching as a parent to witness your sweet child's eyes tear up when they can not be like their friends.

Yesterday I inadvertently poisoned my friend with nut tainted zucchini cookies. I am not a nut fan. I usually forgo putting them in any baked good, however, for some unknown reason, I put cashews in a batch of zucchini cookies.

These cookies are incredibly yummy. It's a recipe I stole from one of my favorite food mystery writers, Joanna Fluke. In fact, I lost the copy I had made, and had to go to the library, and borrow Apple Turnover Mystery for the recipe. I've made these cookies numerous times, and have never ever included the nuts it called for...but last minute decided to throw in some cashews. I have included the recipe below.

This delicious recipe is made for sharing, and it makes two dozen cookies. So, when my friend and neighbor invited us to the park yesterday morning, I brought some along to share. Forgetting she was allergic to nuts, she forgetting to ask about nuts, had one bite....then asked, "Oh my God, are there nuts in these?" Yes people, I poisoned my friend. We had to gather our children and rush over to my house just down the street. Within fifteen minutes, she was having trouble breathing. I drove her, bringing along Cookie and her little firecracker to the Urgent Care. An hour later, a shot of Adrenaline and pretnezone...my friend was done for the day. Unfortunately, her hubby was out of town...and she has a 4 year old. So of course, I stayed with her while she slept, and let the girls play. My hubby had to step up and take Jelly.

Thankfully, we caught it in time. Thankfully, she knew how bad she was. The worst part, other than I could have killed my friend, was that she was hesitant to get help. Hesitant because of course it was the weekend. Hesitant because that meant a possible trip to the E.R. And a trip to the E.R. would cost money...a lot of money, even though she has insurance. Glad I remembered the Urgent Care, which we have gone to for hubby for his broken collar bone and his anxiety attack. Glad that I could take her little one with us to the fair to give her more rest. Glad that she harbors no anger towards me. But in the future, no nuts....ever.

Almost to Die For Zucchini Cookies

preheat oven to 350 degrees
1 cup of White Sugar
1 cup of Brown Sugar (packed)
1 cup of Softened Butter (that's 2 whole sticks people)
1 1/2 cups of peeled, Shredded Zucchini (I use a cheese grater)
1 tsp of baking soda
2 large eggs beaten
1 1/2 tsp of Vanilla
1 cup of Chocolate chips
1 cup of chopped nuts (walnuts, pecans, cashews) optional
4 cups of all purpose flour

1. Combine White Sugar, Brown Sugar, and butter in a large bowl, beat until fluffy
2. Mix in baking soda. Add beaten eggs and vanilla extra mixing thoroughly
3. Add in the peeled shredded zucchini packing it down into the measuring cup. (I had to drain it first) and stir until incorporated.
4. Add nuts and chocolate chips, mix well.
5. Add the flour and mix in one cup at a time. Dough should be thick.
6. Drop by teaspoonfuls or tablespoons (depends on the size of cookie you want) onto a cookie sheet.(sprayed w/ non-stick spray or on parchment paper)
7. Cook 10-12 minutes, for smaller cookies, 20 minutes for bigger, at 350 degrees until lightly browned.

Amusement Park? I use the term Amusement loosely

2011-07-26T19:07:00.002-06:00

If you have ever experienced the joy of taking your children to an amusement park, you will understand when I say, for parents, it can be anything but amusing. In February, we were blessed with the opportunity to stay in California for a total of just about 6 weeks. During the coldest part of winter in Colorado, California weather is a blessing. We even were fortunate enough to rent a house in a privately gated community on the beach just 15 miles from Anaheim, better known as Disneyland central.

We drove. Straight through, 18 hours. While the kids slept the majority of the drive and did relatively well.....hubby thought he was manly enough to do all the driving himself. Five bottles of energy drinks seemed to do the trick...however, he suffered once we got to my Mom's house. And by suffer, I mean five days stomach flu on top of basically diuretics in the form of those energy drinks...almost killed him. Jelly had the tummy flu right before we left, and I was praying to whatever deity might exist that no one puked in the car. At least, we were fortunate enough that hubby avoided the death plague until we got to California. Cookie came down with it the day we moved to our beach house, puking all over a local restaurant before we even got our food....we ran out, hubby throwing two twenties on the table and we never went back. "oops, sorry about the puke, gotta go".

So, after dealing with a sick Jelly, 18 hour car drive, sick hubby, sick Cookie....I was left to just suffer a yucky tummy, but darn it if I was going to puke and not take my kids to Disneyland. So, while hubby was stuck working during the day, I spent six weeks taking the kids to the Long Beach Aquarium, the beach, and Disneyland all alone. If you want to learn your tolerance level for your children and fellow man/woman, take your kids solo to an amusement park.

February in California can be warm, cause, well, it's California. My first solo mission to Disneyland scared me. But, I was going to do it. We bought season passes, and I was going to get my money's worth darn it. While the day started off okay, it soon became apparent that I was not really in the mood to deal with the public. Let's just say, waiting in line for 3 hours to see princesses with and impatient almost 4 year old and active 18 month old is not for the faint of heart. It was close to 80 degrees, I was in a pair of yoga pants (no pockets...what was I thinking) and I was sweating carrying my 20 pd baby, a backpack full of kid crap, and wrangling a hot and cranky 3 1/2 year old. And of course the "Mommy I have to potty" just as you are getting to the front might make you want to strangle your lovely child. Or the claim that they are absolutely not hungry, even though you know they are, and the tantrum they are throwing makes you want to shake them and force the fried food you just bought at inflated prices down their throat to prove how wrong they are and to shut their lovely mouths is just a small part of the amusement park experience. Every. Single. Time.

However, none of those moments compare to what went down in the bathroom at Disneyland. After my very long morning and afternoon at "The Happiest place on Earth," I realized I had yet to change Jelly's diaper all morning. I dislike the changing stations at Disneyland. First, they are sized for infants, not any child over the age of one. Second, they dwell in a spot that receives very little light. And finally, Disney, for our convenience, provide toilet paper at the stations on dispenser rolls right at a child's hand or foot level. Having wrestled with Jelly on a previous day at the changing station, I really really did not want to use them.

As we are leaving the park, I inform Cookie that we will be making one last trip to the restroom to go pee and change Jelly's diaper. Cookie, being the stubborn mule that she is, exclaims, "I don't have to go" and begins balking at the entrance. Me, "the rule is you try. I have to go, so we are all going." Cookie, "I don't want to." Me, "I don't care." Jelly, in stroller, "Out Out, " as she strains against the straps and starts pulling out her arms. I am now dragging screaming Cookie, pushing stroller with screaming toddler, avoiding running into other people and notice that the handicapped bathroom is taken, the changing station is being used, so I go to a stall at the very back. Because, I have two children, one in a stroller, and not all three of us, let alone two of us will fit in a regular stall, I am going to have to go w/ the door open. And then discover, I have started my period. Fanfrickentastic!

Toddler is making a break for it, bad mouthed 3 1/2 year old I have decided is so not making it to her next birthday, and I am bleeding. I struggle for my backpack, which I am praying holds my Diva Cup ( I love my Feminine Cup...). Child, whom may or may not make it to four, is now very interested in what I am doing. "Mommy, what are you putting in your bottom?" I so don't want to have to explain this now. Me, "Nothing Cookie." Yep, I had promised myself that I would always try and be honest with the girls about that stuff, and here I was, pretending it didn't exist. But, really, I was in a Disneyland bathroom, with the door open, and I was tired. I then tried distraction, "Can you check and see if sissy is still strapped in?" It worked! Discussion about being a woman and periods and sex and bleeding avoided...this month.

I finished my business, gathered my stuff, my children and headed to the changing table..when another mom swooped in and took it! I was done. Put a fork in me done. I sighed and in my oh so passive aggressive way, say to Cookie, "We'll just Change Sissy at the car, I hate the changing tables in here, they are too small." And then it happened. The other Mom who must have been just as tired, just as done as me, turns to me and yells as I am leaving, "Aren't you a Bitch having a bad day. It's not too small. Get over yourself." Me, in complete shock, "my child dislikes them." and I continue out the door but not before another woman, I can only assume her friend, chimes in "Fuck You". I grew up in S. California. I taught in the Los Angeles Unified School District. I have had gang members in my classroom. I have been threatened. I have had students with guns and knives. I am not easily intimidated. And if I did not have my children, if I was not so shocked that another woman could say such things in front of her children I might have responded, instead I took my darling daughter by the hand and we left Disneyland. Of course she did ask, "Why was she so mad Mommy?" I responded, "because we all have bad days sweetie."

And yet, here we are, back in California for two weeks, and I am back at Disneyland...where this World's Worst Mom, dragged her hungry child out of Disneyland kicking and screaming from all the way from the middle of the park, on the bus, and to the car. "I want it and I want it now" demands just do not fly with this Mom. "Amusement" far from it. But it is all worth it when your princess meets here favorite princess for the first time. Or your baby points to Dumbo and yells "Dumbo". Oh I hate you Disney...you are a marketing genius.

A Little Help is a Hard Thing to Ask For

2011-06-20T22:00:00.003-06:00

I am not one to rely on others. I usually feel that one should not rely on someone else to do what they can do themselves. In fact, I have a hard time trusting others to follow through. Way back in the time I like to call BK, or before kids, I was a highly organized person. I could juggle numerous projects and get them done weeks before deadline. I was the person people called to get things done.

You read in all those baby books to take a break when you have a newborn, as often as possible. To hand that baby over to someone else. To ask people to help you clean and cook. Because I knew practically no one when I had Cookie, I had a hard time asking anyone for help. I am not the one to ask for help. I am the person who can handle anything. I am the person who keeps it together. My neighbor had to beg me to let her babysit so Hubby and I could have a date night. I think Cookie was like a year old before I relented and let her.

In a one week span I have asked for help three times. From friends, acquaintances, and even a stranger. A move completely out of the ordinary for me. Completely uncomfortable for me. A move that makes me feel vulnerable and not in a good way. But, when hubby was in the E.R., when I could see that Cookie was worried and stressed, I knew that I needed help. I reached out to anyone and everyone I could think of who might take her. Friends and classmates of Cookie were e-mailed...I was begging. Not a position I like to be in. But, the response I received was encouraging. The fact that a friend came, picked up my baby, fed her lunch, and remembered to bring extra socks for her, made me feel better. But, not well enough that I didn't show my appreciation in the form of a gift bag of stuff.

On Thursday, while hubby was out of town, I decided to take Cookie to Summer Camp via the bike. What an enormously bad idea. I had that intuitive feeling like, maybe I should just drive, but I can not make excuses for not exercising anymore. I was determined to get some exercise in while hubby was away. The flashbacks of the last time he went out of town, me taking a bike ride, getting a flat, and the ensuing hour of trying and succeeding of changing the tube was echoing in my brain as I set out.

But, I went anyway. I kept thinking, what are the chances, I mean I go out all the time, when he's home, why would I get a flat now? But on the way home with just Jelly in the trailer, I got a flat. I was nowhere close to being home...I was some 3 miles away, with my almost two year old. And I was not in the best neighborhood in town. My town is relatively safe, but we are not immune to theft or murder, or all the bad things that happen when humans come into contact with other humans. I knew that I could take a bus home, or call a taxi, but where would I leave the bike and trailer? They would be gone in minutes. So I pulled up to a not so nice apartment building's front lawn to try and fix my flat.

Normally, under good circumstances changing a flat would take me a little time, but when you don't have the right size spare tube, the pump is not working properly, and you have a crying 22 month old....things can go south quickly. I must have been trying to fix said tire for about an hour before someone stopped to help me. A few bike riders, runners, a couple walking a dog, and even the local police went by without asking if I needed help. Picture a disheveled bike rider sitting in front of a crappy apartment building with a relatively expensive piece of equipment (the bike trailer), with a toddler running around crying, covered in dirt. But, finally a girl named Megan stopped on her bike to ask if I needed help.

My pump for some reason was not working, I couldn't patch the tube, as I couldn't pump it up to find a leak, I replaced it with another tube, one slightly thinner, made for hubby's bike, but it would work, but couldn't pump it up. She proceeded to pump up my tire, and then asked if I would like to follow her to her house down the street, as she had an air compressor and a bolt for the tube's valve. She seemed trustworthy, I mean she did stop....and she helped me put the tire on, and even held the bike while I put Jelly back in...so we proceeded to her home. She fixed me up, we went on our way...about one block, and the tire went flat again. I turned around, went back to Megan's home and rang the bell. She let me park my bike and trailer in her garage and even gave me her garage code, so I could come back whenever I needed to for pick up. She was incredible and I am more than thankful to this stranger, who went above and beyond for me.

Now I was still 3 miles from home with a toddler. I racked my brain. I could walk to the bus stop about a block away, call a cab, or call someone I knew. The problem with calling someone, is that again, I had a toddler, and she needed a car seat. So, I was left with a limited group of people. Who would have a car seat without a child in it. The only people I could think of, were those whose kids were at Summer Camp with Cookie. So I called one of the Moms...who came and picked us up right away, like we only had to wait two minutes, she was down the street.

In less than a week I had to swallow my pride and ask for help, not once, but three times. I wish I could say it will come easier, but I don't think it will. In the meantime, I am thankful for the people who came to my rescue last week. I know that I could never ever return the favor.

Reflection on the Past

2011-06-15T17:19:00.002-06:00

I'm not sure why, but I was thinking back to a time when I was in Middle School. One of the darkest times in my life. I was in the 8th grade, and had been bullied on and off since 6th grade. I was not a thin child. I was overweight, and in the cruelty that is children, I became an easy target for mean girls to pick on. All of the bullying began in P.E. And after experiencing the inattentiveness of my teachers, the lack of supervision in the locker room, and then witnessing some of the same scenarios played out in the school I taught at, I am almost glad that P.E. is one of the first things they cut in education. I said almost, because I do believe in teaching our children fitness, and about different sports and activities.

Maybe because Father's Day is this Sunday, but thinking about my Dad always brings me back to the day I saw him from a different light. The day he became human to me. The day my English Teacher agreed to drive me home after I begged her to take me because some of those bullies were waiting for me on my walk home. Those bullies wanted to "kick my ass." I'm sure today those same girls have very little recollection of the torture they put me through. Of the concocted reason to be mad at me. I remember it distinctly. I can still see the locker room clearly in my mind. See the unlocked locker against the far wall near the doors leading to the bathroom. Me, asking "Whose locker is this? Did someone leave it unlocked?" You see, the year earlier my locker was broken into. All of my clothes were stolen, including the $20 I had for lunch. It so happened on that day, out of the norm, my Mom did not pack me a lunch, she gave me money, and all she had was a larger bill. I remembered that feeling of having to walk around all day in my P.E. clothes because my Mom was working and they could not get a hold of her. I remember not being able to eat lunch that day because I had no money. And I remember the shame of having to tell my Mom and know exactly what girls did it as "revenge" for them getting caught ditching. (That's a whole other story). So I opened that unlocked locker, in my mind to find out whose it was so I could tell them. I pulled out a shirt, read the name out loud and asked if anyone knew her. Another girl from class just told me to "leave the locker open, because maybe they wanted it unlocked."

Later that day, the same girl approached me, and told me she was told that I broke into her locker and stole her stuff. When I tried to explain what happened, she pushed me and told me she was going to "kick my ass. And to mind my own business." I later learned that her and her friends left the locker unlocked because they shared P.E. clothes. A whole other kind of gross that I can not fathom why you would do that....but that is really the reason they were angry, they thought they would get caught.

The tormenting began. The girl and her friends would show up at my locker and threaten me. They even threatened my friends. There was a lot of pushing and mean words spoken to me. I played a Cat and Mouse game. I would change my route to get around to my classes. I would try and walk near teachers. I would even go late to classes or hide out in bathrooms. One day the girl and her friends accosted me on my way home. Thankfully the boy I grew up with and lived down the street from happened to be walking with me. He was pretty popular, so they just threatened me. But I knew my time was limited. Somehow someone got word to me that the girl and her friends would be waiting for me on my way home. That they were going to fight me. I was a good girl. I didn't believe in fighting. And more importantly, my family was going through a rough time. My Paternal Grandmother had just passed. My Dad was home and the idea of having to explain to him that I was in a fight was more stress on my parents. Something I keenly did not want to give them.

That day, I timidly told my English Teacher what would transpire if I was allowed to walk home. I begged her for a ride home. I only lived down the street. She agreed. I followed her to the office while she "finished up something" and she drove me home. I keenly remember the awkward silence. And I remember as we approached my house, seeing my Dad at the mailbox. As I got out of the car, he spoke to my teacher and as he turned to me. I started to cry and then so did he. It is the first and only time I have seen him shed tears.

As all things Junior High, the situation eventually was resolved, thanks to my big sister, who happened to know where the girl lived. When I confronted that girl in 0front of her home with her big sister and not her friends, she was forced to listen to me. And accept my apology for whatever she perceived I did.

As a Middle School teacher, one of my goals was to mitigate the kind of bullying and treatment I had experienced. I can give examples and stories about how I think I helped, but in life's weird twist of fate, I ended up helping one of those bullies, returning the favor that my teacher had done for me. I can still vividly remember the boy. He was from downtown L.A. and a real tough kid. He was big, he was mean, and I think he really was just a scared kid from the hood. He had been kicked out of our school, sent to three others, before according to district rules, sent back to us for his 8th grade year. One day he hung back in class at the end of the day. Which, for him was out of character. He was a bully to others and my class was always a safe zone. No one was allowed to be disrespectful of others. And no one was allowed to bully. I asked him if there was something wrong. If there was anything I could help him with. He told me that there were some guys waiting to "jump" him at the bus stop. He was going to his Aunt's house and was taking the city bus instead of the school bus. He informed me that if he got into anymore trouble, he'd be kicked out of the district. I was thinking, more like reform school or Juvie. He asked me for a ride to his Aunts'. The last thing I wanted was an adolescent teen boy in my car, let alone this one. But instead I agreed. You see, I remembered my 8th grade teacher, the risk she took for me, and I thought "Universe you suck", but I have to do it.

I took every precaution I could. I called his Mom and his Aunt for permission. I spoke to the Counselor and told her. I had him call his Mom on my cell while we were en route, and then confirmed with her when we arrived at his Aunt's house. It was the longest 15 minute drive of my life. My palms were sweaty and I was more nervous I think than when I first brought Cookie home from the hospital. I have always wondered what happened to that boy. He was one of those whose future had one of three possibilities; murdered, jail, or professional athlete. I hope he has ended up closer to the last.

A Trip to the E.R. and a Pat on the Back

2011-06-13T20:52:00.002-06:00

Friday we made a surprise trip to the E.R. Hubby had some severe chest pains. Turns out to be a huge anxiety attack about his impending trip to L.A., where he has to engage in just about every activity he hates. Thankfully nothing was really wrong with him physically.

Our trip, besides making me more than a little scared, showed me how prepared I really am for those unexpected moments. I actually for once was the Mom who had everything the kids needed. Pretty good for rushing out the door at 8:00 a.m. I managed to get Cookie to throw on some clothes, dressed myself, grabbed some snacks and drinks, and had both kids in the car in about 5 minutes. Granted, Jelly was still in her P.J.s, but I did grab her some shoes. I was pretty sure I had a change of clothes in my bag.

While we waited anxiously for any news about hubby, I was able to ply them with snacks and books. Frankly, I chose not to drag the kids into the exam room to be with him. Cookie was obviously worried, and I didn't want to freak her out any more and while Jelly was clueless, she would have just caused havoc. She is my little destroyer. The E.R. was pretty well equipped to deal with small children. They handed me crayons and coloring books right away, there was a fish tank to distract them, and they had a t.v. with VCR and DVD player and some kid movies to choose from. There were about a dozen wooden puzzles and a play table. The kids were well occupied. The longer we stayed, the more agitated Cookie got, especially after I brought her into the back to visit Daddy for a minute. I am more than fortunate, more than thankful, and more than humbled at how fast my friend Catherine came to the rescue and picked up Cookie for me. She was able to distract her with a play date and even provided her with lunch. For that, I can never repay her.

Only having Jelly there to watch and worry about was easier. She is still not cognisant enough to understand what was happening, but Cookie was. It doesn't help that all those "Mommy and Marcey" stories ended with trips to the hospital. But I told her that Daddy's heart was feeling a little sick so the doctors just needed to do some tests to make sure it was okay and get him medicine. I think deep down she knew it could have been bad...she was really really nice to her Daddy all weekend. There were a lot of extra hugs and I love yous.

But I did learn that first and foremost to always keep my bag stocked with food and drink. Second, always have crayons and paper. Third, have a change of clothes for both kids including underwear and socks and diapers. And finally have a surprise stashed away at home for those just in case moments. Because Cookie was exceptionally good at the E.R. She listened, she was quiet (well for her anyway), and she was polite. When I brought her home I was able to give her a prize. A prize for behaving exactly how I expect, and for making things easier for Mommy and Daddy. I had bought a Cars set and stashed it away thinking that I would give it to the kids for a plane ride or a trip or for something, you never know...and a week after I got it, I needed it. The Universe definitely works in mysterious ways. But this Mom gets a pat on the back for being well prepared.

This Might Not Turn Out How I Expected

2011-06-10T06:59:00.006-06:00

I went to my favorite local toy store with Jelly yesterday. It's one of those stores that carry incredibly cute boutique clothes and wonderfully expensive toys, all that you want your kid to have. If you don't have a game plan before going in, your wallet might be in trouble. They even let your children explore and play with all the toys.....they are devious geniuses.

I had a game plan. I was going to buy gifts for two good friends, mostly from the clearance rack, because frankly their original prices are extremely high. I even knew what I wanted to buy. I was doing well, until I overheard one of the owners selling some "story dice and cards" to another customer. I was intrigued. Cookie asks for me to tell her stories all the time. She likes to tell me what to tell about and should I not tell it exactly how she imagines, my demanding monster gets upset....sometimes to the point of tears. These stories began as "Mommy and Marcey" stories. Stories about a little girl I grew up with and the mishaps and escapades we got ourselves into together. They all had a common theme, us doing something we weren't supposed to, and one of us, or both of us getting hurt or punished. Cookie loves them, but like all things Cookie, she likes to be in control. She has to be boss on how the stories should go. These story cards and dice sounded like a way for me to get her to think outside the box...and to come up with new themes and characters. Lately she wants Marcey to be jealous of Ginger about getting a certain toy. In reality, Marcey always got the cool toys because her parents had more money than mine did and I was always jealous of her.

So I bought both, the dice and the cards. Really both are cool ideas.

The story dice have nine dice, each with six pictures, like a phone or a bell, so when you roll them, you get many different combination of images to help you tell a story. You can of course use all or some of them to tell a story. But the idea of Cookie telling me the general theme and players and then letting the dice help in the development of the story seemed like a good idea.

The story cards are for younger kids about 3 to 5 years old and have a similar idea. There are 32 cards with images on them. The images are fairytale like. A Castle, a princess, a king, a little boy, and a witch. Again, the idea is to use the cards to help build a story. You can use all or some.

Cookie loves them. As a result, I spent most of yesterday telling story after story. While I love that she gets to build her imagination, she is not ready or she does not want to participate in the telling of the story herself. We spent three hours, yes three hours playing with them until I called "uncle". I just could not play anymore. I think it's cute that she calls the story cubes, "sugar cubes" and was touched when she laid out the cards to tell her sister a story.

I am a little hesitant to bring them out again today, as I am not ready to tell stories and be imaginative for three hours today. The teacher in me loves them, the tired Mom in me may need to warm up to them, or set a timer.

Coincidence....I think not

2011-06-03T08:21:00.004-06:00

There is usually about once a month where I completely lose it. Once a month where I am an evil bitch to everyone, including my kids. Following my hormone induced freak out is the gut wracking guilt, but for about two days every month I contemplate running out the door and not coming back.

Growing up, my parents were friends with another family. This family also had two girls the same age as my sister and me. I really didn't like their little girl who was only a week younger than me, she was mean. But one day their Mom up and left them all. She packed her bags and went to Europe or something like that. She returned years later, but the damage was done. But this isn't really about them. It's just that for a split second once a month I understand their Mom. I get it. The urge to just run away from the screaming, crying, snot running, pooping kids, not to mention judgmental husband, who really means well, but EVERYTHING he says is just wrong, crosses my mind.

This week was just one of those cosmically crappy weeks. Of course it probably belongs on Reddit in the category of "What First World People Complain of"....but it is in one of the top ten worst weeks for me.

First, our stove broke. In one of my Best Mom moments of making sugar cookies with my own little Cookie, my oven stops working. We are mixing the dough, she's adding sugar, flour, eggs..I hear a popping sound. I can not figure out what it is...that is until I glance at the clock on the stove and realize it is not working. MY OVEN IS NOT WORKING. Because it is Tuesday, because Memorial day weekend is that weekend, we wait until Friday to order an oven. It will not be delivered until the following Thursday. I am facing almost two weeks without an oven. I'd like to say I plan delicious, wonderfully healthy meals to grill and cook in the crock pot...but, we order pizza, Chinese, and eat out for the most part. Well, mostly because my wonderful ungrateful family decides to not want to eat the first night I grill up steak, corn on the cob, and sweet potatoes, all cooked to perfection. I become a little petty at my family's indifference to my awesomeness. Still I am up for the World's Best Mom and Wife....but it soon goes downhill.

Sunday, I notice Jelly is running a fever as I put her down for a nap. She wakes up running about 101. And proceeds to puke all over me. Cookie, who is perpetually jealous of any attention handed out to Jelly tries her best to drive me up the wall. Let's just say there was lots of crying by both kids. Jelly, because she felt awful and just wanted to cuddle and basically crawl back into the womb, Cookie because I was not paying enough attention to her.

I spend not one but two nights on the couch with a sick Jelly. Before bed on the second night, I notice Jelly has a rash and she's been complaining that her mouth hurts. Coincidentally, I had just read a blog about a family's ill fated vacation to Puerto Rico where they all come down with a lovely virus called Coxsackie. And she described it as what Jelly had. This virus is ugly. This virus sucks, especially if you get the mouth sores. For five days Jelly would wake up in the middle of the night screaming about her mouth. All day, every five minutes she would stick her hand in her mouth and cry saying, "hurtee, hurtee." She then would cry, "hungee, hungee." I would try and feed her something and she would just cry some more. For five days my baby lived on ice cream and Top Ramen (cooked in microwave). And on day three Cookie got the dreaded disease, better known as hand/foot/and mouth disease.

Knowing that I had just spend two nights on the couch with Jelly, Cookie demanded that I sleep with her, as she was sick. Night three, I am sleeping in Cookie's bed, with Cookie and Jelly. Every two hours Cookie would wake crying for her "Neh Neh." Jelly would wake up and cry about her mouth. Three nights of little sleep. By night four, I was done. Neither kid could eat anything but ice cream, and it was 9 p.m., Cookie was exhausted, but refused to go to sleep unless I was there. Jelly was screaming and I had enough. Now we all love the book that's coming out "Go the F** to sleep" Because frankly we all of said it or thought it. And each one of us are jealous that we didn't think to write it first. And me, day four of no sleep. Day four of screaming, crying, clinging kids have had it. I start screaming, " YOU WILL GO TO SLEEP, I AM DONE, I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH EITHER OF YOU. I AM NOT CUDDLING ANYONE. I AM NOT LOOKING FOR NEH NEH. I DON'T WANT TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR EITHER OF YOU." I put Jelly in her bed screaming. I slammed the door to Cookie's room, and I laid down in my bed until I no longer heard a peep from either disease laden child.

By far not my best moment as a mom. I later went and laid in Cookie's bed and slept with her. Gathered up a crying Jelly in the middle of the night to sleep with us...and repeated the process of every two hours looking for the scrap of Cookie's blankie, calming a crying Jelly, and dealing with a cranky husband in the morning, who complained that the monitor to Cookie's room was on all night, yet he never turned it off, so he slept as fitfully as the three of us. Oh and I started my period. I'd like to say that I never once thought of running away...but on the fourth morning of waking to screaming kids, a period, a cranky husband, and no oven, I had visions of myself running down the street bra less, bare foot, and in my pajamas screaming and pulling at my hair like a crazy person. At the same time, that vision felt liberating, because I'd get to hear the birds. feel the warm sunshine that was out after a week and a half of rain (and I'm stuck at home still with two sick kids) and I would be far far away from my family whom I love more than life itself.

It's day six, Jelly is finally eating, Cookie's mouth is still a puss ridden mess, and I sheepishly admit to threatening to throw out he Neh Neh for the hundredth time. Coincidence that my oven breaks the very week my kids can't eat? You be the judge. But in my book, I guess there is a silver lining to everything.

Ageist

2011-05-25T12:13:00.003-06:00

I will readily admit that I am an ageist. I only have patience for things that work in favor of my kids at their particular age at this particular moment.

For example, it's the end of the school year for the kids in our area. This means that end of the year parties and activities. Most of those parties and activities are held at local parks around town. We have 27 parks! Yes, 27. The number is awesome, the choice is awesome...what's not so awesome is when you bring your two children, ages 4 and 22 months, to the park to play and it is crawling with elementary school age kids. And not just 5...but 60 of them. No matter what park you choose!

I am one of those parents who watch their children. I am sure some of you know a few parents who are too busy facebooking and texting or talking on their cell phones to watch their children. Even when I am talking to other parents at the park, I am still aware where my kids are and what they are doing.

Being a former teacher, I know that there are wonderful and fantastic teachers out there....but I also know that there are ones that don't care. Sometimes at the park I get to view the later...the ones who let their students do anything they want. They throw sand, push little kids out of the way, steal their buckets and shovels, and prevent the little ones from going on certain equipment. I hate having to be that mom admonishing the elementary kids when they are supposed to be having fun. I hate having to act as mediator for children that I am not responsible for. I am not a hovering parent. I let my kids try new things, fall (safely), fail, dust off and then try again. I teach my children tools on how to get along with others, although this doesn't always happen.

I particularly hate these elementary schools invading my park. I also get annoyed during the summer when busloads of kids from summer camps and daycare places show up at my normally tame and quiet park. I know that when Cookie starts elementary school I'll be one of those parents who think the parents of little one's need to chill out and share the park....cause I'm an ageist....and when there are too many kids I won't get to see this:

For the Hell of It.

2011-05-16T21:13:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I like to say "No" to Jelly, just to say no. There really is no reason to say no, I mean I could say yes to whatever it is, but no is just so much funnier. I mean Jelly is almost two and she has started throwing those terrible two tantrums. I find them pretty hilarious. Maybe it's because I've been through them before, or maybe it is because they just are not as violent as Cookie's were. Does this make me a mean Mom?

I will pretend for appearance sakes to say it teaches her some positive traits. 1. I am in charge 2. You don't always get what you want. 3. You get nothing if you cry (cause sometimes I'll say yes when the crying stops). 4. patience.

On another note, I enjoyed scaring the pants off Cookie today. There she was, playing sweetly in her room, when I sneaked in quietly and yelled "BOO". She jumped like a foot and screamed. Then she started laughing....and of course I laughed an evil laugh. She said, "Mommy you scared me." I felt slightly satisfied.

Maybe I'm a little demented. I just like doing things for the hell of it.

What's with this age?

2011-05-06T15:14:00.005-06:00

Nobody and I mean nobody warned me about four. You hear horror stories about two...trepidation about three, and downright fear about thirteen and well...any teen year. But four, nobody, told me about four. Take the terrible two tantrums, mix well with the word "No", and throw in a little "I don't want to" and you've got my four year old. Being a parent is delightful, it is fun, it is tiring, it is scary, and it is frustrating to no end. This four year old makes me absolutely terrified to reach teen years. Emotionally charged and verbally adept, she is exerting her independence like a freight train. If I was to tell her that the color was blue, she would insist it was red. I tell her to jump, she says she wants to lie down. She tells me she likes a certain food, then says she hates it.

The other day we went outside to take some four year old pictures in her princess dress. All things were going great.....and then in a flash of a moment tears and a tantrum. I would ask her to stand one place, she'd insist on another. This is where I need to learn to get good at reverse psychology. I have to make things seem like her idea, contrary to my idea. "Charlotte it's snowing, maybe you should go outside in your tennis shoes." then hope she chooses to wear her snow shoes instead.

I am not a fan of four...I hear five is better, but then again, I think those Mom's are just lying again.

Get Angry

2011-04-20T10:05:00.004-06:00

I received an e-mail the other day from a woman I met once at a park while playing with my kids almost a year ago. We hit it off enough, that I got her e-mail and invited her to playgroup. Like many women I meet and invite to playgroup, I e-mailed her...but never heard back. That was until a few days ago.

I am not immune to the world or the problems many people are facing right now. The idea that our government, our congressmen and women are playing games while the numbers in poverty increase daily sickens me. The idea that they continue to give tax breaks to the richest of the rich, allow large conglomerate companies to avoid paying taxes drives me nuts. The fact that I am a historian, and throughout history, "trickle down economics" does not work. The rich do not create more jobs if you give them more money....point in case: in the 80s, they just took the money and built themselves new homes in other countries, and moved this country's manufacturing across the seas to places like China. But, this is not really about politics and my feeling on how all members, yes I said it, ALL members of congress need to be fired, we need to start over...maybe have a few teachers, plumbers, and waitresses start making the decisions...cause those there now are not there for us, the people's best interest, they are there to make more money, and keep their billions growing.

All that being said, this woman contacted me to see if my husband could hire her husband. She recalled that I mentioned he was looking in to hire a web guy to help him....she said her husband was good with computers, but was a landscape architect by trade. Things in a year have changed significantly for us, in the company my husband works for (for the better), and in what my husband needs in his "web" people. The e-mail is just one example, of many, I am sure, of what our economy, what the reality is for most Americans today. We are thankful every single day for what we have, for what his boss and the company he works for provides. We are not rich, we are not well off, but we are doing better than most. My heart breaks for this woman who not only has had to face a major life changing event in regards to her husbands unemployment, but two miscarriages in the time span from when I met her. A person so desperate, that she is begging virtual strangers for help. A person who, when I told her that unfortunately my husband hired four new people but all in California, that he is no longer looking for help, said they'd be willing to relocate. My heart breaks for her, her situation, and those who are too struggling to make ends meet. Those who are making daily decisions..."do I buy groceries or provide heat for my family this month."

I ask are we not angry enough yet?

Torn and Tattered

2011-03-25T15:46:00.008-06:00

Next month my Cookie is 4 years old. Sometimes while driving, I'll glance in the rear view mirror and be thrown at how much she has grown, at what a big girl she is. Last night while cuddling before bed, I became just a little verklempt. Cookie hung on to my neck and pushed her little head into my neck and told me she loved me and wanted to hug me forever. In that moment I knew that this closeness to my baby girl was fleeting, that one day she will push me away. That one day she will tell me to get out of her room, that she will roll her eyes at me and tell me I am annoying.

But, for now I still have my bossy, talkative, boisterous, fearless little girl who loves to sing and dance without a care in the world. A little girl who jumps headfirst into the deep end of the pool even though she can't swim, and expects and knows that it will be okay, that someone will be there to catch her from drowning. My tomboy who asks for dinosaurs and princesses for Christmas. The first one in her preschool class to brave the zip line, even though technically she is the youngest. She wears princess dresses and cowgirl boots. Prefers her clothes only be purple, and hates to have her hair brushed. Is in one breath super jealous of her sister, yet very giving at the same time. She will sing at the top of her lungs even though in reality, she can not carry a tune (something she gets from me). And of course the one thing in those four years that goes everywhere with her. That has been dragged through the mud, sleet, snow, dirt, water, and goodness knows what else. The item that we can't get out of her face, even for pictures, her blankie, or "Neh Neh" as she calls it.

I am afraid, okay maybe relieved, that Neh Neh will not last until her 4th birthday. It has been through some transformations since she attached to it at 4 months old. The yellow thermal receiving blanket started out quite large. She would drag it behind her, tripping herself as she went. Finally, fed up with it being so long, I cut it down (or I should say them...I bought three of the same blanket for her). Last year, I put most of them away to be used in a quilt I am making for her out of all her baby blankets...and left her with just three Neh Nehs, one to be used at a time while the other two were in the wash. Two have been lost in travels...one at Disneyland, the other who knows where.....and we are left with one. One tattered and torn lovey. Last month I noticed that it was so worn, that it looked as if it was disintegrating. Cookie of course has not helped poor Neh Neh's plight, she has pulled and twisted it until the edging I had sewn around it detached from the middle part. Then what was left was about a 6X6 in square, has been torn into two very thin strips. The two vestiges of her baby and toddler hood are going going going and will be gone as she reaches 4 and becomes a little girl.

Neh Neh is so small, so minuscule that she loses it about a dozen times a day. Hysteria ensues...because she knows that it might be gone forever, that she might have misplaced it for the last time. Am I ready for my baby, my toddler to become a little girl? Am I ready for the attitude, the emotional roller coaster that comes with girls, I think it is already too late.... her Neh Neh, is torn and tattered, she has outgrown it, although she is still holding on, like I am. But someday, too soon, it will be gone and so will my little baby girl.

Meatballs-Beach House Style

2011-03-01T20:16:00.002-07:00

Our last days at the beach house and I am working on clearing out the pantry. Tonight's menu was spaghetti and meatballs. Cookie asks for meatballs all the time. She loves ground beef in many different ways, and meatballs happens to be her favorite. I have been looking for the perfect meatball recipe, but so far it has alluded me...that is until today. Something about having to make due with what I have, to substitute for what I would normally use, has worked out in my favor. Five years of being married and trying my hand at cooking has helped. Below is my successful Meatball-Beach House Style recipe.

Meatballs-Beach House Style

1 pound ground beef
1/4 cup red onions chopped
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup Good Seasons Italian Dressing Seasoning prepared
1 egg
1/2 cup Ritz crackers crushed
salt to taste
pepper to taste

1 jar of Marinara Sauce (your choice, I used Barilla)
1 small can of tomato sauce
2 tbsps Olive Oil

1. Mix all ingredients together and then shape into balls. You can make as big or small as you desire
2. Heat Olive Oil in a frying pan. Brown Meatballs on all sides. Place onto bake safe pan. Pour sauces over the meatballs and bake until internal temp reaches 165 degrees. I baked at a low temp of 250 for about 2 hours...but I made them early in the afternoon, you could most likely turn up the heat and bake a shorter time. I also used a gas oven at sea level, so everything bakes faster and more evenly than my electric at home.

Vegetable Beef Soup..Beach House Style

2011-02-08T10:29:00.001-07:00

Vegetable Beef Soup

1-2 pds of round beef steak cubed

1 cup diced onion

1 cup of carrots sliced thin

1 cup celery chopped

1 tbsp butter

1 can diced tomatoes

1 can tomato sauce

6 cups of beef broth (or water 4 bullion cubes or 4 tsps)

2 cloves of garlic

1 tbsp Worcester sauce

1 tbsp of cinnamon

1 bay leaf

1/2 tbsp of chili powder or you can use like I have in a pinch "famous Daves" rib rub or some other rub.(seriously)

salt and pepper to taste

1. In a large soup pot cook the onions in the butter over a med. heat until soft, stirring occasionally. Add the rest of the veggies. Cook about 5 minutes more, stirring occasionally. Add the meat and brown on all sides...stirring occasionally.

2. Add the Beef Broth, tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, Worcester, and the garlic (peel off the skin...but do not crush). Add the spices...I let them cook about 10 minutes, stir and taste then add more to taste.

3. Bring to a boil, stir and then simmer until the meat falls apart and the carrots are soft. I like to simmer covered at least an hour. Uncovered about an hour. You can also brown everything and then put in a crock pot.

Creative living

2011-02-08T09:47:00.003-07:00

If you ever want to see what things you have in your kitchen and pantry that you really don't need or use, go away for a month. Stay in a beach cottage that has almost all the necessities...like plates, utensils, pots, pans, furniture, and beds. Go shopping for food and staples, then when you attempt to cook your family a meal, realize that all the things you usually use are not available or you forgot to buy.

We are lucky enough to be staying at the beach in Southern California for a month. Lucky to have a wonderful two bedroom beach cottage with almost everything including cable. Our first day was anything but ideal, as Cookie promptly puked at a local restaurant (her turn with the tummy flu that nearly did Hubby in as soon as we arrived in L.A....another story for another time maybe). When I finally did get out that evening for food staples I decided to go to a Super Target because upon arriving at said beach house, I realized that my number one mistake was not making sure it had a bathtub. 18 month olds simply do not appreciate a nice shower. So not wanting to go to multiple places, and we desperately needed food staples, I went to Super Target for food and a blow up kiddie pool to place in the shower.

I am not a huge fan of Target's grocery selection. In fact I am a little leery of it. I bought some chicken tenders which I had intended on making my infamous Frosted Flake chicken with the following night for dinner...but when one fails to buy Frosted Flakes (oops) and Hubby has the car (nobody walks in L.A....that and where the house is there is really nothing close enough or safe enough to walk to with two kids), ....creativity comes in. The pantry was pretty paltry anyway, bare bones, to be exact, as I was intending on going to the regular grocery store later in the week....I decided to use Ritz crackers as bread crumbs...a good choice as I also realized that we had no salt, just pepper for seasoning. Score one point for Mom. I realize that crackers are something others use regularly for bread crumbs...just that my Mom and Dad never did, so I felt pretty creative and the Hubby and non sick kid ate them.

Night two on my dinner menu (still have not gotten to the real grocery store) Vegetable Beef Soup. Things I did manage to get at Target, carrots, celery, and beef. However I had failed to get beef broth or any other kind of spices I usually use. Problem solved with a Beef Top Ramen packet. No Chili Powder or bay leaf....Cinnamon (who knows why I bought Cinnamon, because I don't know what I was thinking). One of the best beef soups I have made in a long time. Although cutting the beef into cubes was tougher than usual since I discovered that there was no butcher knife, just steak knives. Really, who stocks a kitchen and does not include at least one butcher knife but buys a rice cooker. I mean I use a rice cooker at least 3 times a week so score for me, but seriously. Recipe of soup to follow.

Things I have in my kitchen that I have discovered and rendered useless, Butcher knives who needs them, just tear the meat. Spices other than Cinnamon...okay salt is good and pepper too, but those others are just expensive and take up room in your cupboards and pantries. Baking trays, just use tin foil. Tupperware...eat everything if you make it. Bread crumbs, seriously just buy one kind of cracker and use those for everything, finger sandwiches, croutons, you get the gist. Spaghetti spoon. Dishwasher, use your hands. Dust Pan, just sweep the dirt outside. These are just some of the things I have discovered I've been doing wrong.

In the gutter

2011-01-24T15:15:00.006-07:00

I am no marketing genius, I leave that up to Hubby. He sometimes will blurt out while we are someplace, "are you kidding me people?" There are a lot of places that choose their company names or product names that make no sense. Names that are asking to be made fun of.

For example, on our way to the Denver Zoo there is a Chinese Restaurant named, "Ho Mei". Seems innocuous right? Wrong, it is in a predominantly black neighborhood. Did they name it so that calling it "Homey" would feel more natural for the locals? Whatever it means in Chinese, it makes me laugh every time I see it.

Or locally, a restaurant opened and their signage read, "RustiCoven". I should have taken a picture of this before they finally changed their logo to read, "Rustic Oven." The first time we saw the sign my husband actually did a hand to the head smack. But, I still call it the "Rusty Coven" and will as long as the place exists.

Today my mind was apparently in the gutter when I came across the scene of a man loading his company truck with the name "T & A Counters". I mean, naming your business after you and your partners first names that start with a "T" and an "A" respectively sounds all right. But, when you put them together with "Counters" you are just asking for it. I actually drove past this truck, turned around and took a picture. And of course I just happened to get a picture of the owners ass sticking out of the truck. So what are the rules for counting the number of tits and asses? Do you have to go to school to become a "T & A" counter? Oh I could make jokes all day. Maybe my mind is just in the gutter. I am also wondering if you find this as amusing as I do?

Tofu Lo Mein Stir Fry

2011-01-24T08:40:00.003-07:00

I am forever trying to find ways to cook Tofu. Besides the fact that Jelly loves the stuff, it is good for you and provides a great alternative to meat. We decided to purchase a 1/4 of a cow last Fall. The cow comes from a Colorado farm where the cows are not pumped full of hormones and are grass fed. When you go to pick up your meat, they literally butcher the cow that day. Needless to say we have a lot of beef products.

I like to try and meal plan my week where we have a rotation of chicken, beef, pork, and tofu. It doesn't always work out, as my kids are pretty picky eaters and sometimes I just want them to eat instead of turning their noses up at what I serve them. I refuse to stop feeding the kids healthy foods because all they want is PB&J. The rule in the house is that they have to try everything on their plate, but do not have to finish it. I can not force them to eat. I am under the belief that if they are hungry, they will eat, even if it isn't chicken nuggets. (which they only get when we go out for dinner).

I never ever have "dessert" because that would just set me and them up for disaster. Since I have no will power when it comes to things like chocolate or ice cream, I don't keep it in the house. Even chocolate chips, because eventually I will raid the bag and start eating them by the spoonful. I know some people have dessert every night and have to battle the food dilemma nightly. "Did I eat enough Mommy? Can I have dessert Mommy?" None of that here. We just ask, "Did you try everything on your plate? We'd like you to take a bite of your carrots, before you ask to be excused."

The following recipe is one I put together that would satisfy both the kids and us adults. Jelly gets her tofu, which I love, too. Cookie gets her pasta, and everyone gets a good dose of vegetables. (sorry no pictures today)

Tofu LoMein Stir Fry

1 package extra-firm tofu
1 package of spaghetti (I use regular spaghetti size)
2 tbsp veg. oil
1/2 onion sliced
2 stalks of celery, thinly sliced
1 med. red pepper thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic crushed
1 large zucchini cut into thin half moons
1/4 pkg spinach
1 broccoli crown separated
2 large carrots peeled, shredded
1/4 cup Mr. Yoshida’s (or you can mix some soy sauce w/ some brown sugar or honey)
red pepper flakes according to taste (I don't use because the kids don't like spice, but I have added Chinese sriracha to hubby's and mine.)

1. Cook Pasta according to package directions. Drain and set aside.
2. In a large frying pan or wok, brown tofu in 1 tbsp oil, set aside on paper towel lined plate.
3. Add remaining oil to the pan, cook onions, garlic, celery and bell peppers until soft
4. Put zucchini, carrots, broccoli, spinach in pan, cover and steam 5 minutes
5. Add tofu and pasta and Mr. Yoshida’s mix cook on med. until warm.
6. You can add hot sauce or sriracha or even Korean hot sauce according to your own tastes.

Humidify

2010-12-13T10:38:00.002-07:00

I am on the hunt once again for the world's most efficient humidifier. I am not asking much really. I want something that produces a mist to humidify the room at least 30%. I want something that doesn't leak. And I want something that doesn't sound like an airplane running in the room. Oh and can it function longer than one winter? How hard is it to get these things really? Growing up we had a humidifier that mom brought out every time we got a cold. It was bare bones back then, but while loud and leaving a small water puddle near the vapor outlet, it worked for like ever.

We have had four different brand humidifiers in the five years we've been married and only one that I was decently happy enough with that I bought another of the same and then they both promptly stopped working in different ways. All work okay until the 30 days are up for warranty.

When my sister came to visit, my nephew came down with the croup. I rushed over to Target and bought a humidifier. From the get go, the thing didn't work right, but my sister, who was concerned about my nephew only cared that it put out the vapor, not that you couldn't change how much vapor or even turn the unit off without unplugging it, despite what the instruction manual said it should. Since she never informed me that it didn't work right, or maybe it did and then two months later when I took it out again, the gauges stopped working, I couldn't return it. The machine is quite loud and hubby refuses to have it in our room, but it does emit a great vapor.

The next one I bought was the cutesy Frog looking one from Crane for Cookie's room. It was quiet, it emitted a small amount of vapor....but only worked well enough to humidify a small closet. I continued to use it though for a good two winter seasons, but after the second, the plastic cracked and broke, rendering the unit unusable.

Next, I purchased an ultrasonic one that didn't require a filter like the first one did, which frankly was gross and I changed often. While the first unit was just under $50, filters are close to $12 a piece....thus making the unit actually not that economical. The ultrasonic did not have filters, but was on the pricier side, closer to $100.00. I liked the ultrasonic unit, as it seemed to work, it had a humidity control monitor that seemed to work, and kept the room humidified. I liked it so much , I ran back to the store and bought another one so I could have one in each of the kid's rooms because inevitably they will both be sick at the same time. Then inexplicably one started dripping water from the base....and I mean the whole unit of water, all of the bookshelf I had it sitting on, down the back, soaking the entire carpet. Having had the book self anchored to the wall for kid safety, we had to remove said anchors, empty book self and spend an hour with the steam cleaner soaking up the water from the carpet. It took over two days to dry completely. with the floor heater pointed to it. The other one stopped measuring moisture properly and would turn off, so I had to leave it on all the time at optimum output. Now I am back to using filtered loud one until I can find another unit.

I have been online. I have read hundreds of reviews regarding numerous different humidifiers and everyone, it seems, has the same problems with every single product out there. I am even willing to shell out $300 for a product, if it works...but even those seem to have crappy reviews. Are humidifiers that difficult to make? Or is this some gigantic conspiracy by these companies to make a product that only lasts 90 days, forcing you, the consumer, to continue to buy more? I once had an American made car, whose parts individually broke as soon as the warranty ran out. The rear view mirror literally came off the window. Door handles broke, belts burst, and I don't want to forget the peeling paint problem...all occurring days after the warranty was over.

Maybe this time I'll get lucky and find something that works.

Holiday Sugar Cookies

2010-12-09T08:20:00.000-07:00

My friend over at Evolvingmommy.com is hosting a cookie exchange again this year. Last year I accumulated many yummy and delicious cookie recipes. I was baking almost everyday before Christmas last year thanks to her.

I am reposting my Vanilla Cut Out Cookie Recipe for her exchange. I found these to be the best...and I mean best cut out, no need to refrigerate dough recipe. My Hungarian friend retrieved this recipe from an old Hungarian Cookbook, translated it for me, and then I had to convert everything from grams to cups and tablespoons and teaspoons. I did make a couple changes....but I bet you won't eat just one. I love my sugar cookies nice and soft, so I don't cook them until they are golden brown on the bottom, but if you cook them longer they turn out nice and crisp if that's what you prefer. I also like my cookies thick, but you can roll out the dough to whatever thickness you prefer. I make these for every holiday...but have yet to make them for Christmas this year...I went with chocolate this week. Therefore my picture is one from Spring. My own little Cookie loves to make these and Jelly just loves Cookies.....Enjoy

Vanilla Cut Out Cookies

2 3/4 Cups All purpose flour
2 1/2 Sticks of Butter (or 1 1/4 cups)
1 1/2 Cups Sugar
1 1/2 tsp Vanilla
4 Egg Yolks (reserve whites to baste cookies)

Mix all ingredients together until forms a dough. Roll with flour and cut out with favorite cookie cutters. Baste with egg whites, sprinkle with sugar or sprinkles if desired. Bake 350F until golden brown.

Personal Shopper

2010-12-02T22:36:00.000-07:00

Hubby's boss has summoned us to the company Holiday Party. And when I say summoned, I mean it. Since Hubby's company is in California, that means we have to fly out to go. The boss man is paying for the whole family to go. Great news considering that my grandfather had a fall and is now in a nursing home. I wanted to fly home to Mom last week, but had puking kids. Now I can go and have someone to pay for it.

Of course a Holiday Party means a holiday dress, thus sending me into a panic.It's been about five years since I've really needed to dress nicely. Five years since I've worn actual nice clothes. I am a mom, and I have become that Stay at Home Mom horror. Frankly I can not see spending good money on clothes that the kids just ruin with snot, puke, and other lovely things. One I get dressed in the morning, the nice clean clothes last approximately 5 minutes. Little fingers with some kind of goo always smudge them. Plus my size keeps changing.

To the mall I headed to find the perfect little black dress. You all know the one I'm talking about. Two hours alone at the mall for shopping while hubby takes care of the home front is pure bliss. Shopping and trying on clothes without grubby hands or whining kids is a plus.

While discarding the fifth unacceptable dress, hubby texts me to inform me that the party is casual....so buy something nice, but casual. Oh Thank GOD! I was seriously becoming depressed, having been unable to loose the baby weight after Jelly. That's a combination of lack of exercise (not without trying trust me...these kids don't cooperate with me trying to live a healthy lifestyle...not sure how others do it) and still nursing. Yes, I am in the minority who can not loose weight while nursing. I didn't loose a pound until I stopped nursing Cookie.

So I left the big department store and headed to my all time favorite store, Ann Taylor. I used to love their clothes, maybe I'm too old. Maybe my body just changed too much...but that store was a colossal fail. It could have been the florescent lighting they placed along both sides of the mirror, casting a horrific glow, making it impossible to see if clothes actually fit properly, or it could be that they had nothing in the exact size I needed. Either too big or too small.

Dejected just a tad, I walked into Eddie Bauer. They've been sending us their catalog and I had walked in there the previous week and bought hubby two new work shirts and me a brand spanking new adorable winter coat. I was impressed with the service I had received, and thought to try them again.

Like before, I received excellent service. But it got even better. As I am trying on clothes I hear a voice outside my door. "Hi, my name is Katie and I can help you with anything you want..in just a minute....ummm, I kinda have to get dressed as I was trying on all our clearance stuff." I open the door and say, "sounds like fun, when you get a chance can I get another size in these pants." That's when the fun begins. She oohs and ahs about what I'm trying on, comes back with the requested size pants and a boat load of other clothes. She says, "here's some stuff I thought would look great and it's on clearance...so just give it a try." I had been lamenting just the day before to a friend that maybe I needed to hire a personal shopper because I hadn't a clue as what to buy anymore. My body was f*ed, and I am now 30 not 20. I am outdated and haven't a clue as what to buy. The next hour and a half consisted of Katie as my own personal shopper and new best friend. Honest opinions about clothing and great options. Not only did I leave the store with a great outfit to wear to Hubby's Christmas party, I left with two outfits and a fuzzy gloved ice scraper. Can you say salesperson of the year?

I am so happy with my purchases and the personal attention I am going to write a positive letter to the company...I know something different from the terse ones I've been writing to everyone.

Things that go Bump in the Night

2010-11-24T07:11:00.000-07:00

You ever have one of those feeling as a parent that you are just destined not to get sleep that night? Last night was one of those nights. I have recently been a little obsessed with Korean Drama shows. I used to watch them years ago in order to practice my Korean, and get the cadence of the language when I was learning it. Since we cancelled cable over a year ago, we've been watching t.v. online....and the site we consistently go back to has been adding Korean Drama to their catalog of shows.

The cool thing about it, is that, unlike American soap operas, they end in sixteen episodes, and the website usually posts all episodes at once. There is no waiting a week for the next episode or even a day. The bad part of this, is they are highly addicting, and all I want to do is watch the show I am currently on. All. Day. Hey kids you need a bath? Eh we'll just skip it tonight...MinSung is about to meet up with Hwang So. Anyway the last two nights I have been staying up past 11 o'clock watching. Stupid me.

Last night I had that intuitive feeling that I should be going to bed at 9 o'clock, but could not turn off my Korean Drama. As I hit the hay at around 11:30, I tossed and turned and just as I was finally drifting off to slumberland, Jelly started crying. She's going through a pretty rough separation anxiety and has been fighting naps, sleep, and going back to sleep in general. Thinking her issue was this, I vowed that after going in, changing a minor wet diaper, rubbing a tummy for a few minutes, I was going to let her cry it out. Immediately upon leaving the room she started screaming. A fever, high pitch scream. Not her normal scream, but she sounded angry.

From the Cookie's monitor I could hear her tossing a little, most likely disturbed by her sister. And that's when I heard it, a bump. Thinking it was Cookie getting out of bed to go pee, I ignored it. But, then I didin't hear her door open. So I finally got out of bed to deal with the fever pitch non-stop screaming of Jelly before she really did wake up Cookie. Ready to show her my frustration, I walked in and there she was....wondering around her room crying! In case you missed that, my 15 month old was out of her crib!!!!! That bump was Jelly climbing out of her crib. Grabbing my child to my now very awake self, feeling her all over to make sure she was uninjured. I proceeded to cuddle with he until she started to drift to sleep. She was pulling her ears, so I got to thinking she was probably teething again.

Fast forward to four a.m. After nursing the crying Jelly (we have just the one left), I put her back to bed. Five a.m. I hear her coughing and crying. The sound every Mom knows means...puke is going to follow that cough. I get up and as soon as I lift her, she starts throwing up. Panic, did she hit her head when she climbed out? I am now examining my now naked child's head for any discerning bumps. No, nothing. I am pretty positive she doesn't have a concussion. Despite all the puke, the panic about concussion and bleeding in the brain. I have the following recurring thought, "Oh my God! She's climbing out of her crib already, what the fuck am I going to do?"

Laughter the Best Medicine

2010-10-11T14:04:00.000-06:00

They say that laughter is the best medicine. That laughter actually makes a person healthier. I haven't really had a good laugh in a long time. Don't get me wrong, I laugh, I find things funny, particularly, hubby and some of the things the kids do. But a good, strong, tears rolling down my face laugh, not so much.

Hubby says that I am too serious. My siblings like to say I am too. Which, probably means I am. I just don't take responsibility lightly. When I was teaching, I wish I could say I was the funny teacher...cause who doesn't like a teacher who is funny? My classes were fun, the kids generally liked me (I think), and learning happened all the time. However, I was always professional and a little cynical. Seasoned teachers told me I acted like a veteran. The things I said, the way I held myself screamed old timer. Yep, a nice way of saying I was serious, that I didn't have that new teacher glow. It was not meant as an insult, as seasoned teachers kinda felt threatened by the newer, younger teachers. New teachers have energy, they have pizazz, and many have that young/good looking thing that even if they are terrible at the job, the kids still love them. One student once told me that I hung out with the "popular teachers." I think she meant the younger ones in their twenties opposed to those in their 40s-60s (cause at the school I taught we didn't have many in between...most were within 10 years of retirement). But, I could hang with the older crowd and fit right in. The other new teacher had problems being able to relate to their mentors.

As a stay at home mom, I take my job very seriously. What I do is important, I have to convince myself of this daily or I would just get depressed. But I am not the "cool" Mom. I never will be. My parents were the cool parents. My Mom used to pile all the kids in the neighborhood in their station wagon and just drive around turning right or left when the kids told her to. My dad would bring home the company truck, pile the kids in the back and take everyone out to ice cream. These things would never happen in my home. First, hubby isn't too keen on kids other than our own. Second, all that gas wasted, and I would not feel comfortable driving all the kids around in the neighborhood. The responsibility scares me. Yep, I am too serious.

Last night Cookie asked me to come play in her room with her. So I obliged, since really how long is she really going to want to play with me anyway? One day she's going to be slamming that bedroom door asking me to please leave her alone. She told me she wanted to give me a show and to get in the closet (lucky girl has a walk in). And then she sang and danced and intermittently between the singing and dancing she started burping and farting. I was laughing so hard tears started streaming down my face. My sides hurt. And Cookie kept laughing because I was laughing. Then she' ask me to stop so the show could go on...but she'd start to giggle, then she'd burp and then I'd start laughing again. It felt really really good. I love my Cookie and I was reminded that sometimes I just need to let go, stop worrying about the laundry or the kitchen that has yet to be cleaned and enjoy my kids. Because they are really really funny.

Be the Ball...or something like it

2010-10-03T13:02:00.000-06:00

Ever have that Ah Ha moment? That moment where there is perfect clarity. I had it the other day. I have been struggling with keeping my cool in regards to Cookie and her 3 year old behavior. That little girl sure can push. Not to mention she already is sounding like a teenager. Her tone when responding to us can really use an adjustment. And the other day her Daddy was the recipient of a "Fuck You, I hate you" face. In fact if she had those words I think she would have used them.

Back to my moment of Zen. I was reading one of those Parent magazines with the name "Parent" in it's title and there was an article about how to stop yelling at your kids. I am not sure what spoke to me, and made me actually take their advice, but for once, maybe the author knew what she was talking about. She wasn't some clinical child psychologist or doctor telling me how to raise my kid. She was a mom who also found herself yelling at the top of her lungs, "You will listen to me! Why are you driving me crazy? Why are you doing that?" While her kids either looked at her like she was crazy or continued to misbehave.

Here's the thing. Some of the suggestions were things I learned to do as a teacher....and employed them successfully on a daily basis. After my first year teaching, in which I call the "screaming year." Where as a first year teacher all you do is scream louder than the kids. I learned that yelling did nothing, so I whispered or spoke softly. This method always worked. Well why wouldn't it work with my three year old? Cause newsflash, it does.

Secondly, as a teacher I found I had to be explicit in what I wanted and why. I also had to explain in detail why I was upset and what the students were doing incorrectly. If I had just said, "Jimmy, you are driving me crazy." He would be clueless as to what behavior was really driving me nuts. Since, he may have walked in the door, sat down at his desk, got out his notebook, all correct behaviors, but was chewing gum and blowing bubble (incorrect) in a one minute span. I would have needed to say, "Jimmy your gum chewing and blowing bubbles is driving me crazy." Immediate understanding should follow. This descriptive talk is something I have failed to do as a parent. I am not sure why, as it is one of the first lessons I learned preparing to teach.

Yesterday I employed tactic number two, while speaking in a soft firm voice. It worked. I found that when my blood started to boil in annoyance at some behavior Cookie was displaying, telling her in detail why it was wrong actually calmed me. I found other parents at the park giving me marveling and impressed stares as I told the girls, who were fighting over a water bottle that, "taking turns is how both of them get what they want, so Cookie gets to take a drink first while Jelly waits and then it is Jelly's turn to take a drink while Cookie waits. Grabbing the water bottle out of each other's hands just makes the person whose turn it is upset and no one is happy." I didn't shout my usual, "SHARE FOR GOODNESS SAKE!" or "STOP HITTING YOUR SISTER!" Amazingly the fighting stopped and both girls waited their turns. All day things like this happened. It was only while I was cooking dinner that I lost my patience with Jelly as she can not quite understand why she is not allowed in the kitchen while Mommy is making dinner.

The last tactic discussed was reminding yourself that your child is acting their age, so speak it out loud, "you are acting so three!" This is supposed to help you remember that your three year old has only been around for 36 months to learn everything. This tactic makes me think of "CaddyShack" and Chevy Chase saying "Be the Ball." Cookie is just being "3" that's it. I need some reminders of that.

Parenting is harder than I ever imagined and I need a lot more patience than I was ever given. Hopefully by employing these tactics I can learn to parent smarter not harder.

Awesome!

2010-10-02T19:49:00.000-06:00

Have I told you how awesome my Mom is. She really is. I can not fathom where she got all the energy to raise us kids and have fun while we were at it. Probably cause she's awesome. With all the Halloween and fall preparedness kicking in, I am reminded of the things I loved about my childhood, and it was because of Mom that they were awesome.

First we always, always made popcorn balls. Caramely, buttery popcorn balls. She'd pop a gigantic bowl of popcorn, heat the caramel on the stove and us kids would slather our hands in butter waiting for her to pour the caramel over the popcorn and then tell us we could start molding balls. As we dug in, forming popcorn balls, we'd all being blowing on our fingers saying "ouch...ouch...ouch...hot...hot..hot" all the while we'd keep trading off dipping our hands in the butter and then the popcorn. I looked forward to lunch everyday the week after making them, as Mom always packed them in our lunches. Dad would come home from work excited to enjoy the fruits of our labor.

Every holiday we made sugar cutout cookies. What another treat for us kids to have in our lunches. Yummy homemade cookies that we got to cut out and decorate. Spiders, pumpkins, witches and an occasional leaf adorned the Fall cookie collection.

Cookie has started to ask if we can get the Halloween box out of the basement and make cookies. So this year now that it is October, cookies, popcorn balls, and pumpkins are on the agenda. Not to mention a lot of crafting projects, trips to the farm and pumpkin patch, and trick or treating.

While Halloween is not my favorite holiday, Fall is my favorite season. And it does feel like fall. Today I took the kids on a bike ride, enjoying the cool fall weather, the color changes on the trees, and the smell of dampness that was missing all summer.

Chicken Soup for the Soul

2010-09-29T09:17:00.000-06:00

Growing up with a Catholic grandmother who embraced the Jewish culture was quite an experience. The woman was phenomenal at dishing out guilt trips. I was either to fat or too thin. I never ate enough but was eating way too much. If you were sick, she fed you. But she fed us with the Jewish penicillin, Matzo Ball Soup. For a Catholic lady, she sure could whip up a mean matzo. She died too young, I think, and before I was old enough to get her recipe. But the little bit of Jewish in me, 1/4 to be exact, likes to feed my family with this particular Jewish cure for all that ails you. Every Jewish family has a chicken soup recipe, which they claim to be the best. Frankly what makes it the best is the time and love they put into it.

When my Cookie came down with the flu, I chucked the idea of having a nice steak for dinner and began to thaw the whole chicken I had in the freezer for just such an occasion. (I like to buy a whole baking chicken when they are on sale and keep it in the freezer to either make a stock, or a soup with, my favorite is Tortilla Soup..but plain chicken soup is great). While Cookie of course refused to eat the soup (tummy hurt too much), Hubby, Jelly, and I enjoyed it along with some homemade egg noddles and homemade baguettes. Below is my easy peasy Chicken Soup/Chicken stock recipe. The one below is if you want to eat the soup the same day, but the best soup is made over two days allowing time to cool the stock and remove the fat, then chopping more carrots, celery, and onion to add to the stock and cooking until they are soft. Which you can do if you want an even more delicious and rich stock.

Chicken Soup (best started first thing in the morning)

1 Whole Baking Chicken
3 Stalks of Celery Chopped
1 Onion Chopped
4 Carrots Peeled and Chopped
2 tbsp butter
2 Bay leaves
8 cups of Water
Salt (to taste)
Pepper (to taste)

1. Saute Onions, Celery, and Carrots in a large Stock pot in the butter.
2. Add the whole chicken(thawed, gizzards removed), water, and bay leaves. Salt and Pepper to taste (I generally add about a tsp of both and then add more at the end to taste). Add more water if needed to cover chicken.
3. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Cover and cook until the chicken is cooked
through. (about 2-3 hours...you can increase heat, but you will have to add more water
later). Taste the stock and add more salt and pepper to taste.
4. Remove chicken to a plate or bowl to cool.
5. Drain the stock into a bowl or another stock pot using a colander to separate the carrots,
celery, and onions (retain for later use but remove the bay leaves).
6. Place the stock in the freezer (if you've got room) or in the fridge and allow to cool (about 2
hours).
7. While stock is cooling remove the meat from the bones of the chicken and chop up. You
decide how chunky and how much meat you want in your soup. I sometimes take some of the
meat and save some to make chicken salad or serve the kids it alone.
8. Once the stock is cool you will notice that the fat will start to solidify on the top of the
liquid. You will need to spoon this off or use a towel to soak up the fat. I usually start by
spooning and then finally place some paper towels on the top to soak up the rest. (if doing
this over two days, skim the fat the first day, and then reboil the stock, then place in fridge
again and skim the next day.)
9. Return the stock to the burner, add the chopped chicken and the onions, carrots, celery you
set aside (note, that if you are doing this over two days you would throw out the first batch of
veggies and then chop the same amount and then you would throw them in with the stock and
cook until they are soft, then add the chicken...making sure you refrigerate the chicken over
night.) Heat over med. until chicken and veggies and stock all warm. Enjoy.

Egg Noodles

3 eggs
2 cups of all purpose flour

1. Beat eggs together in a large bowl
2. Add flour a little bit at a time until incorporated and using a dough hook or by hand knead until shiny smooth and form a ball.
3. Wrap in Saran wrap, set at room temp for at least 15 minutes.
4. Using either a pasta machine or rolling pin, separate the dough into to balls and then roll each one out until really really thin. Let set until hard enough to cut into thin strips for noodles.
5. Either cook in boiling water for about 5 minutes or allow to dry over chairs and then place in Tupperware in fridge. Once dry you will need to boil at least 8 minutes.

I would suggest you cut the noodles thin and in pieces for your soup.

Hiding Out

2010-09-28T07:55:00.000-06:00

Hubby has started doing something I only wish I could do. He is hiding in bed. Of course I get up when the kids get up, but lately I have noticed Hubby wakes up and lays in bed watching shows on his computer. He is hiding. Of course this annoys me because I wouldn't even dare to think about it.

We have trained Cookie so well that she still lays in bed waiting for someone to come in and tell her she can get up. Of course she also yells, "Mommy the sun's on" and Jelly just cries out or talks until someone gets her. I often wonder how long it would take hubby to get out of bed and stop pretending to be asleep if I just ignored the kids in the morning. I have yet to get up the gumption to find out.

We like to joke sometimes when the kids are stressing one or both of us out that we are going out for cigarettes and milk. Sometimes it surprises me that Hubby comes back. I don't blame him for hiding out.

Won't you be my neighbor

2010-09-22T22:00:00.000-06:00

I don't expect to be liked by everyone. In fact people either love me or hate me. I am not the kind of person you can say, "Oh, Ginger, she's alright." I tend to rub people the wrong way sometimes. I am too sarcastic, too upfront, and too talkative.

Sometimes there are people who just don't get my humor, who don't appreciate my blunt language, and people who just want me to shut up. If these people are strangers, or those I don't expect to see again, I can understand being ignored or even the cold shoulder. However, someone I have to see on a regular basis, someone I may have to deal with in regards to my kids, I would like to be friendly with. Whether or not I like them or they like me, a cordial friendliness is nice to have. I can fake it, I do so with the "perfect mom" all the time. We both have an unspoken understanding. We partake in a cool friendly chat it up conversation when we see each other. Cordial, polite, businesslike, acceptable. Our kids play together, our kids see each other, we make the best of it.

Recently we had some new neighbors move in. This development was exciting for me. I had just said goodbye to a really good friend. Cookie had to say goodbye to her buddies and we were both aching for people to fill the void. The new family is from California, like us and they are around Hubby's and my age. They have two kids; a son who is five and a daughter who is the same age as Cookie. It seemed that this might be a wonderful addition to our neighborhood. Finally someone my age. Finally another Mom going through the same stages I was. I love my neighborhood. I love my neighbors who are like surrogate moms for me and aunties for the girls, but having someone close to my age with a daughter Cookie could play with just seemed like providence. Ever hear of too good to be true?

We seemed to hit it off. The kids played nicely together, she seemed welcoming. I invited her to join me on a bike ride to playgroup and she accepted. Then things went south. I am not sure what I said, what I did, or what happened on that trip. But since then we have been given the cold shoulder. A nice cool reception awaited us when we popped over to play. At first I thought they just might be busy. Moving in, adding a porch, and fixing up their house. I thought maybe I came on too strong. So I gave them some space. Like a month of space.

Yet, after that month, she continually turned us down to play. Her children sat there begging to play, they were doing nothing but watching t.v., yet she always had an excuse. I don't have to be her friend, but I would like to be friendly, for the kid's sake. I know that I can't make everyone like me, but it is sad to see Cookie beg to ask if they can play, and I have to say no. I can not take the sad faces of not only Cookie, but the crying from her kids. The last time we went by, her daughter threw a tantrum so bad, her mom had to put her in the house and shut the door. We could hear her weeping, "But I want to go play."

The fixer in me wants to call and confront her. I want to ask what I did to offend her, if anything. I would like to make it right, not just for Cookie, but maybe for me, too. The practical part of me says to let it go. I have to live near this family and letting things lie might be better than making a big hababaloo about something that might be nothing. So I continue to tell Cookie, that no, we will wait for them to ask us over. And will continue to say hi and be cordial when they pass by the house. For now, the ball is in their court, even though it is killing me.

Order

2010-09-17T20:30:00.000-06:00

I like order. I like all of my stuff to be in certain places, certain ways. I like to be able to find items when I want them. Unfortunately places like my closet, my bedroom, and well, the whole house resemble the chaos that is in hubby's head. He is definitely the scattered artist.

The bedroom and the closet, I can certainly blame him, because once a month I find myself sitting on the floor in the closet re-hanging clothes, his clothes. Somehow, they fall off the hangers and land on the floor, without being rehung. The discarded articles sit on the floor until the pile reaches mound like proportions and I must do something before it becomes a small mountain. Despite having a hamper, clothing (hubby's) fail to make it in. Discarded worn, dirty clothes litter the bedroom floor where they were removed....and frankly this goes for any place in the house. I find socks and pants in the weirdest places.

There was a time that I was able to stay on top of the chaos, keep order, but with two more scattered brained children, it has become impossible. And thus I have fallen into the abyss of chaos. I long for the order that once was my life. I know that some people manage to get it. I know that somewhere, out there, there is a super woman who is able to get it all done, and catalog and label all of her shoes with pictures and boxes. She has managed to type in all of her recipes, catalog them alphabetically, by theme and food group, including beautiful pictures of her concoctions. In my head I'd love to be this anal. I would love to take the time and put everything in it's place. But frankly, with children and hubby, I will go for organized chaos. Because I am just too tired to be as organized in real life as I am in my fantasy world.

Non-Smoking Please

2010-09-10T21:15:00.000-06:00

I hate smokers. My Dad is a smoker, and I think, because he is, my respect for him is a little less. I remember my parents struggling financially. I remember my Mom concerned about affording groceries. I also have recall of them arguing about his cigarette habit. The fact that he was spending a large amount of the families' budget on his nicotine fix every month, was a cause for friction. My Dad, because he loves smoking and did not particularly enjoy my mom nagging him about it. And my Mom, because she was in charge of paying the bills and was literally watching him burn through money. But he did make one concession, he started buying the cheap brand instead of the better known brand. If anyone knows a smoker, they'd know that smokers are brand loyal. He also began to smoke outside when us kids began to harp at him, well that and the fact that my brother got the croup often, his smoking only made it worse....so outside he was sent.

Smoking sucks. Smoking is smelly and expensive and of course addicting. While smoking is the one and basically only thing I do not like about my Dad, him not being able to break the habit is something I understand. He started smoking at, I think, 13. It is hard to quit something that was started so early. One thing I have loved about owning our own home is the fact that we are no longer held hostage by our very close neighbors in our old condo complex. Nothing is worse than having a downstairs neighbor smoking on the balcony and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop the smoke. Except, I have noticed recently the smell of smoke. I am not sure which neighbor has taken up smoking, or if it's our new neighbors, but it drives me crazy. I hate it. It actually hurts to breath it, and I notice it throughout the day.

So for now, I have to live with the smoke and the selfish most disgusting and destroying habit of smoking. One of my biggest fears is that one of the girls will pick up the habit. That no matter what I teach them, they will give in to peer pressure, they will try smoking. And I don't know how to prevent it, other than placing them in a bubble and locking them in the house forever. But we all know, we can't protect our kids against everything, we can only arm them with knowledge and life skills to cope and make the right decisions. Here's hoping that my kids are smart enough to listen.

For Myself

2010-09-04T19:25:00.000-06:00

If someone told me that motherhood meant no more weekends and no more sleeping in, I don't think I would have believed them. I mean what do you mean no more weekends? There is always Saturday and Sunday. With kids there is no more lazy waking, no more watching the lifetime channel and definitely no more drinking hot coffee while reading an entire paper.

Right now my life is dictated by two little beings who rely on me for just about everything. While I know that will change, that I will long for the day that someone asks me to help them "wipe," I fantasize about my old life before kids. How nice it was to get up on Saturday, make a cup of coffee (BTW, caffeine free for almost 3 years now), enjoy the morning news with hubby then a trip to the gym together. Afterwards, we'd go to lunch or home for showers and a day in front of the boob tube. Ahh the days, kid free.

At the beginning of summer we had a house guest who asked me an interesting question. A question that I couldn't really answer. He asked me what I enjoyed doing for myself. He had me stumped. I mean really, I haven't thought about myself since I brought Cookie home. Okay, maybe that's a lie. I've thought about myself numerous times, but doing anything about it, now that's a different story. I think it took me something like four months to get a hair cut after having Cookie, and that was at Hubby's insistence that I go do something for myself. I used to enjoy the gym. I used to enjoy running. I used to enjoy a good book, or shopping. These past activities are no more. They belong in that other life, the life before kids.

Jelly went with me to the gym for the first time on Monday, taking the kids along is always a gamble. Will they behave, will they have fun, or will I be called to come and get them, screaming and crying with the only thing to show for my effort is a reduced gas tank and two very upset kids. Shopping is a struggle between keeping one kid in the cart and the other from wandering off or touching something while I hurriedly shove things in the cart hoping I either did not miss something, or inadvertently buy the wrong thing. Shopping alone means a time crunch. I am always worried about how the kids are doing and if I need to get home. Hubby has been working crazy hours the last year. Something like 12-14 hour days, seven days a week. And we just recently felt comfortable enough leaving Jelly with a sitter.

So what do I enjoy for myself? I am not sure. I need to reinvent me. The me after kids. Maybe Yoga classes or a book club. How about cooking classes. I just don't know. But hubby's friend is right. I need to find something that I enjoy.

Feed a Cold

2010-09-03T07:34:00.000-06:00

The old adage, "Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever" may be true. I came down with a cold this week. You would think that would put me in bed. Having the kids of course does not allow any rest for the weary, so instead I have baked, and baked, and baked.

It has helped that I have been reading more of that Joanna Fluke and I just had to try her Zucchini Cookies, delicious. Then I have been compiling recipes to make snacks and such for the girls and I came across the Yam and Jam muffins. I have also made Chocolate Sugar Cookies and baked two loafs of bread. Carb heaven over at our home that's for sure. But really the sugar cookies lasted less than two days. The bread is almost gone. And Jelly ate two of those muffins lickety split. The zucchini cookies I must say are just unbelievable wonderful. They are soft and fluffy and frankly, unless you told me there was zucchini in them, I'd never know.

So, I did make one or two changes to these cookies but here are Joanna Fluke's Zucchini Cookies for all of you, who like me, have a plethora or zucchini this time of year.

Zucchini Cookies

Preheat Oven to 350 degrees F.

1 cup white sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup softened butter (2 sticks)
1 tsp baking soda
2 large eggs, beaten
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups peeled and shredded zucchini (pack down the shredded zucchini in the cup)
1 cup chopped nuts (I used cashews, but I am sure pecans or walnuts would be great)
1 cup chocolate chops
4 cups flour

1. Mix together sugars in a large bowl then beat in the softened butter until nice and fluffy.
2. Mix in the baking soda
3. Add the beaten eggs and vanilla, mix well.
4. Mix in the zucchini until well incorported.
5. Mix in the nuts and chocolate chips
6. Mix in the flour in one cup increments until well blended, mix will be thick.
7. Drop by spoonful onto a prepared cookie sheet (I use parchment paper).
8. Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10-15 minutes or until lightly browned.

Miss. Manners

2010-08-29T06:51:00.001-06:00

Let's face it, teaching kids manners can be a challenge, especially three year olds. My three year old has a particular amount of sass, which I am hearing is not unusual for a three year old.(right?) But we started early on the whole manners thing. "Please", "Thank You", and "May I" are three terms we constantly instill with the kids.

I have a friend who is challenged with how to discipline her children. I think her challenge isn't the discipline per se, but the follow through and execution each and every time. Consistency, consistency, consistency is the key. Cookie is not allowed to get up from a meal with out asking to be excused, each and every time. We will not get Cookie food, drink, toy, or anything with out a "please". It was difficult at first, but we continued to correct, now she just needs a look or "what was that?" to self correct. And of course we always need a "thank you."

Cookie is three, so right now our challenge is the "I don't want to" and the "I WILL!" with attitude, which we keep correcting to, "yes, Mommy." I can see how someone wouldn't want to fight with their kids every conversation. But really, after the first week of forcing the issue, we really don't have a fight. We just tell her it is polite and the correct way to say something. Or we give her a look or the right term and she will then repeat.

How do I know it is working? The other day Hubby and I went for a bike ride with the kids. We ended up at a park, and in playing "baker" in the sand, Cookie told me very politely, "Mommy, your cake is ready, please come pick it up." When I appeared at her delivery window, she asked for "Five dollars, please." I "ate" my cake and thanked her for the delicious concoction which she promptly replied, "thank you for coming today." We have never ever played this before. I am not sure if she played something like it at summer camp, but I had a mommy proud moment. My daughter had manners.

Chocolate Crack

2010-08-27T16:53:00.000-06:00

I made a serious mistake. I happened to see a recipe in a recent "food murder/mystery" book I was reading, so I made it. And it was delicious. And by delicious...I mean like crack.

Aptly named "Chocolate Crack", the recipe called for just four ingredients. Since I just happened to have all four ingredients on hand and I was craving chocolate.....well I couldn't resist. It is a great combination of toffee and chocolate. It takes all of seven minutes to make and ten minutes to cool. I believe it would be a quick, cheap, and easy way to treat oneself, or to take as a treat to a party. Not only is it addicting, it includes chocolate.☺

The book also had a recipe for "Vanilla Crack", but there is no chocolate in it, soooo, I passed...You can check out the book yourself, Apple Turnover Murder, or the author, Joanna Fluke and her series about Hannah Swenson for the Vanilla Crack Recipe. The dessert recipes are divine....seriously I have spent hours at the library photocopying recipes from these books before returning them.

Chocolate Crack

Preheat oven to 350 degrees., rack in the middle position

2 sticks of butter
1 cup of packed brown sugar
12 approx. graham crackers
2 cups of semi-sweet chocolate chips (12 oz. package)

1. Line a 10 X 15 inch cookie sheet w/ heavy-duty foil. A jelly roll pan or even a cake pan works great. If you don't turn up the edges of the foil to form sides.

2. Spray the foil with a non-stick cooking spray.

3. Line the pan completely w/ a single layer of graham crackers. It is okay to break them to fit. Set aside.

4. Combine the butter with the brown sugar in a saucepan. Bring it to a boil over medium high heat on the stove top, stirring constantly. Boil it exactly for five minutes, stirring constantly.

5. Pour the mixture over the graham crackers as evenly as you can. Place in the oven and bake at 350 degrees for ten minutes.

6. Remove the pan from the oven and sprinkle the chocolate chips over the top. Give them a minute or two to melt, then spread them out with a spatula or frosting knife as evenly as possible.

7. Place the pan in the refrigerator to chill. (or freezer for a short time if you really can't stand to wait the 30 minutes)

8. When the pan has chilled and the toffee and chocolate has set, peel the foil from the cookies and break them into random sized pieces.

The Silent Treatment

2010-08-10T06:57:00.000-06:00

One of my hubby's ways to show he is displeased is to apply the silent treatment. I have not gotten it in a long time. I am not sure if his lack of silence is because he has grown up and has decided that adults do not fight that way, or if he realized that there is no way possible to remain silent in this house. Whatever reason, it is nice to no longer be on the receiving end of the deadly silent anger simmering under the surface, waiting until he was ready to blow and "discuss" whatever it was that was bothering him.

Lately though I have learned to be the silent one. Learned to pick my battles. Learned to keep my mouth shut and not discuss an annoyance. Hubby has called me on my "looks" a few times and does not like the shoe being on the other foot. And I have learned that the silent treatment holds much power. You are controlling when, where, and how a conversation will take place.

Once, when we were looking to buy something in L.A., we applied for a loan. The bank told me that because hubby had a couple "bad" things on his credit from 5 years before that the interest rate would be really high, because they assumed that as partners we would take on the other person's bad habits. My question was why couldn't you assume that since his credit had gotten better since we were living together that he took on my good habits. No answer for me there.

So here's a question, did we just learn each other's habits and adopt them? Or are we just growing up. Him learning to discuss his feelings, me learning that not every single feeling needs to be discussed?

Take that Cupcake

2010-08-09T18:05:00.000-06:00

I am not sure why, but for Jelly's first Birthday, I decided to make the cake. My mom always made ours and I thought, why can't I? Store bought ones are nice. They generally taste decent, and let's face it, it is easy to just order one and pick it up. Not to mention that the stores have made them pretty economical.

I have been experimenting with my own cake recipe from scratch. None of that box mix stuff for me. (insert snooty stuck up face here). Really it wasn't a matter of being too stuck up, or I have to be the best Suzie Homemaker, it came down to a challenge for myself. As a SAHM, there really is not a whole lot of goal setting other than to make it through a day with out loosing my mind, I gave up on the clean house a long time ago.

I wanted to see if I could make a beautiful and fun cake for my daughter. Not to mention there was some guilt that I was not having the rip roaring first birthday party for Jelly that we had for Cookie. I wanted to make the day extra special...maybe a little bit just for myself. As we have no intentions of having more kids....this is my last (hopefully) planning of a first birthday party. I am saying goodbye to having a baby and hello to toddler years....and heaven help us, ages two and three and then the teenage years.

My first challenge was not the actual cake recipe, as I had mastered that a couple months before, it was the icing and the actual putting together the cake. A couple weeks before Jelly's birthday, I decided to have a dry run so to speak. I have a wonderful cream cheese icing recipe, that I wanted to try on the cake......let's just say, it is great for cupcakes and regular cakes, bad for "designer" cakes, as the icing kinda just melted right off. But my buttercream icing that I made for the filling was wonderful. While the first try was pretty bad, the final, I must say was great.

While the idea for a fish bowl cake was not original, I made it my own. Below I have included my cake recipe. It is perfect for anyone who wants to make a cake they need to cut and mold into a shape.

Yellow Cake Recipe

Ingredients
2 1/3 cups of all purpose flour/shifted
1 tbsp baking powder
dash of salt
1 cup of white sugar
1/2 cup applesauce
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups milk
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

1. Sift together flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. Mix in applesauce until fine crumbs are formed. Add eggs, milk, and vanilla. Beat at a low speed for 1 minute, then high for 2 minutes, scraping the bowl frequently.

2. Pour batter into greased and floured cake pans. Bake ina preheated 350 degree oven for 25-30 minutes.

Day and Night

2010-07-24T21:35:00.000-06:00

When I was pregnant with Cookie, I remember torturing myself with my impending labor by watching one of those shows on t.v that follows a family through the birth of their child. One particular birth stood out in my mind. It made me feel comfortable with what was to come. Made me feel at peace.

The new mother described the moment her child was placed on her chest as the most beautiful, most wonderful, full of love and warmth feeling she had ever felt. It made me cry. I couldn't wait to feel this. I couldn't wait to have my baby in my arms and know that all was well. I couldn't wait to feel that all encompassing love for this new being that I had made. Maybe I set myself up for disappointment, but the moment they placed Cookie on my chest, what I felt was the complete opposite.

My labor with Cookie was intense. Fast and intense from the moment I felt the first contraction. Pushing was equally fast, just ten minutes. I'm not sure why, but when they placed Cookie on my chest, I was expecting to feel that glow of love, that feeling of rightness that the mother in that show had described, instead I felt relief, annoyance, and indifference. Here was a perfect beautiful baby and I felt, ehh. I had some tearing and it was taking forever to sew me up. As I watched my husband bath our new baby and clean her up, all I felt was relief. Relief that it was over, relief that she was okay, and relief that they were taking care of her and I didn't have to.

I tried to force myself to feel happy. To feel that all encompassing love, but it wasn't there. Then I felt inadequate, horrible, like the worst mother out there. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I feel better? I wasn't depressed. I didn't feel hopeless. I felt nothing. My emotions were everywhere. I felt confused and hazy.

Bringing home Cookie didn't go so well either. I had trouble nursing, she became jaundiced and lost weight. The lactation consultant seemed concerned. All I could do was cry. I was a failing mother. I couldn't even feed my child, the most natural thing in the world...or so I thought. No one told me nursing was work. No one had warned me that there might be issues. But, I was stubborn and determined to make it work. And my parents were on their way. Frankly this upset me more. I didn't want to show my mom what a failure I was. Hubby and I were just not up to hosting guests. It would be my parent's first time in our home, their first time visiting us since we moved, and I was a wreck.

On day five, just like our Lamaze instructor said, I broke down. It was the middle of the night, I was trying to shove my nipple into Cookie's mouth so she could eat. She was screaming, and it was not working. My Dad came in, kissed me on the head and said, "you can do it, she can do it, it will be okay." My Dad has never really known how to talk to us girls, but at that moment, it was the words I needed. He made me believe when no one else could.

Nursing was an uphill battle, but eventually Cookie and I worked it out. Really what made the difference was a call from my mid-wife. When I described how Cookie seemed to be colicky. That no amount of colic tabs, or plain chicken and rice diet seemed to help. That she cried and cried and ate and ate until she pooped, that something seemed wrong, and the nurse at the pediatrician just kept telling me she had gas and I could only give her so much mylicon, that she suggested it might be a problem with her sphincter, that it might be too small. Well, let's just say, an insisted Dr.'s visit, and exam confirmed the mid-wife's diagnosis...and within a couple weeks things quieted down.

My love for Cookie of course grew and my post pardon reduced. By month six, I felt the fog lifting, like I was being weighted down, and when I felt my hormones shift, I felt more alive, more in love with my daughter, and frankly happier. I think my relationship with Cookie will mirror my labor, will follow the aftermath of her birth. We will but heads, it will be fiery, and there will be intense feeling.

Fast forward two years and Jelly's birth was the complete opposite of her sister's. I went into labor as I was going to bed. Contractions were slow and irregular....5 minutes, 7 minutes, 3 minutes....etc. I let hubby sleep until 3 a.m. before waking him. Even after they broke my waters, labor was more painful, but soooo different. Pushing took me close to an hour. And when they placed her on my chest, I felt that glow, that love, that perfect fit. There are pictures of me after having Jelly, where I am ebullient. I felt even. I felt right. I felt myself. It was wonderful, it was fantastic, it was slightly depressing knowing that I had missed this euphoria after Cookie.

Hormones are an amazing thing. What I feel today, what I felt after Jelly was completely night and day compared to Cookie. I wish someone could have helped me understand that you don't always get that automatic feeling of "rightness" of well being, of love. But for now, I know that what I felt with Cookie was not wrong, it just was.

Borg Babies

2010-07-23T18:27:00.000-06:00

I think my kids are part of the Borg Colony. Resistance is futile. No matter what I do, this house does not, can not stay clean for more than 2.3 seconds. Last night, I didn't bother cleaning up, as I was in the middle of putting back together Cookie's train tracks, after having taken it apart for the carpet cleaners.

Hubby went out this afternoon, and came home to Jelly in only a diaper. He commented that we had finally achieved "white trash" hood. I lost it a bit today after taking one look at my home and threw in the towel. Laundry was piled up, toys scattered everywhere, model magic pieces strewn here and there, allowing Jelly a nice mid-morning snack, and the kitchen....well, let's just say it was in such a state as to match the rest of the house (which is rare, since that is the place I keep the cleanest), food littered the dining room floor, milk had encrusted the couch, and I cursed myself for putting up the ball pit again.

Any attempt to curb the chaos was met with a fight. Whining and crying ruled the day. Resistance is futile. You will become Borg. You will conform. Resistance is futile.

I have a friend who kinda reminds me of my Dad, she's anal about cleaning up. My Dad is the type take your water glass and put it in the sink if he sees that you are not holding it. Go to the bathroom, you can guarantee that your drink that you just poured, will be down the drain. My friend followed the kids around picking up after them as they went from one thing to another. It drove me mad. I have long since given up the fight. Resistance is futile.

But sometimes, just sometimes I get an itch to clean, a bug to remove the clutter and the chaos. But, like I said, Resistance is Futile. Yep, I have Borg Babies.

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum

2010-07-22T19:11:00.000-06:00

We used keep our alcohol in the pantry, on the highest self, until hubby moved it to the basement...where we have a beautiful bar, albeit unused. However, after fixing a bar shelf for the alcohol to sit on, hubby decided that the basement is where it should be. Thus causing me my current dilemma....you see, the rum, which I fetched last weekend from the fathoms below, is still sitting on the kitchen counter mainly because I am too lazy to bring it downstairs, but not to be discounted my sensibilities that I will just want some in a caffeine free diet Coke after I put the kids to bed. ( I know, here I am strictly adhering to no caffeine, but will consume alcohol while nursing, makes no sense.)

When the alcohol was in the pantry, I rarely noticed it. Since I have spent the better part of the last four years either pregnant or nursing, it really hasn't been in my repertoire so to speak. However, I fell off the wagon earlier than I did after Cookie. I think I rarely drank the first year after having her. After Jelly, I think I lasted about six months and then the stress of having two got to me. I had to have a Margarita or a rum and coke, or a glass of wine to wind down an evening.

I still try to leave alcohol drinking until the kids are asleep, and only on the weekends, but there the bottle of rum sits, on the counter calling to me. I pass by it in my daily routine and I say, "Oh! Hello Rum. There you are." Of course I spend a large portion of my day in the kitchen, either cooking or cleaning, and the Rum keeps calling out to me like a bottle from Alice in Wonderland, "Drink Me". Most nights I don't want a drink, or don't "need" one. And most nights I don't...but some days drive me to drink.

One of my biggest fears is becoming an alcoholic. Not sure why it concerns me, other than my Mom once told me there was alcoholism in the family. Maybe it was the large amounts of beer my Dad and the neighbor men consumed that bothered me. Or it could have been that my best friend grew up with an alcoholic father and I saw first hand the result of alcoholism.

I remember reading an article in one of those "family" magazines about a mom who slowly turned to alcohol. And let me tell you, I got it. I can see how being a parent might drive one to drink. In fact sometimes I am surprised that there are not more people who are alcoholics once they become parents. One day a thought crossed my mind that maybe they were all drinking and just hid it well, or maybe everyone is on some kind of mood altering drug. That's the only way they can hold it together right?

Having kids is tiring, it's emotionally heart wrenching. When you are not loving that little ball of sweetness, you are cursing them for their destructiveness, their rudeness, or their just plain sociopathic behavior that only children can have. Your love for them is so overpowering that yes, sometimes, a little drink helps take the edge off. But when does that "little drink" lead to too much? When does it become alcoholism? I have never been much of a drinker, I don't like being out of control, at all....which is why I might have had such a hard time transitioning to parenthood, I realized that I had absolutely no control over anything anymore...even when I went pee.

So why am I so concerned about drinking when at the most I have maybe one to two shots of rum a week? Call me prude, call me kill joy, but I am not one for overindulging in booze. I enjoy a beer, I enjoy a margarita, but I do not enjoy loosing control. Which begs the question, why is that bottle of rum calling my name, again?

Never alone

2010-07-21T21:04:00.000-06:00

So one thing no one shares about Mommy hood is the fact that you are never ever alone again. While this sounds kinda nice, it is actually quite frustrating at times. Like when you have to take care of some women business and your toddler is grabbing at your legs and hands. Or your three year old wants to know what that thing is your removing and all kinds of other questions you are just not ready to answer quite yet.

Recently Cookie has decided that she wants to shower with me. I would really be annoyed if I didn't have specific and very clear memories of jumping in the shower with my mom. What comes around goes around I guess. I recall laying in bed, listening for the shower to turn on. Then I would jump up, undress and run into the bathroom in order to take a shower with her. I guess it was special time for me. I also vividly remember the day I stopped. I heard the shower, jumped out of bed, got undressed, opened the shower door, and there stood my dad naked in the shower. I am not sure who was more shocked, him or me, but I never tried showering with mom again. I had to be at least seven at the time, since I remember being in the front room as opposed to the one my brother ended up occupying.

Even if Cookie isn't in the shower with me, she is in the room. And now of course there is Jelly. And the last couple times, hubby has come in. I like the fact that we have a shower that has glass doors, that it faces the bedroom without a door between it and the rest of our room, so as the kids play, I can see them. Because of this set-up I can usually get in a nice shower....even shave my legs, that is, if Cookie is not occupying space.

So with kids, I am never ever alone, even sleeping their monitors crackle, and I can hear their sound machines, heart beat for Cookie, ocean for Jelly. And of course, hubby is next to me, usually, accept when he falls asleep in the basement watching t.v. I know that one day I will miss Cookie playing ring around the rosey in the shower, I will miss her dropping the soap a dozen times, or asking me to move so she can have most of the water. But sometimes, I just want quiet shower, alone.

Garyisms

2010-07-17T21:12:00.000-06:00

I am sure that everyone eventually experiences the horrifying moment when you realize you've become your parents. Even if you like your parents, even if you think they did a phenomenal job raising you (like my parents), the idea that you are quoting them, becoming them, is disconcerting. There are key moments in my day where I hear my mother coming out of my mouth....even to the tone of voice. Of course what makes it worse is that you realize that your parents were right. You now have a better understanding of why they said and did what they did while you were growing up. While me becoming my mother is cause for some concern, what's more scary is that my husband is becoming my father.

I kid you not. Hubby has a strained relationship with his folks. I don't want to go into detail or reveal too much of his own personal issues, but I think he sees my parents are surrogate parental figures. I find it funny that he has started to adopt what I like to call "Garyisms". Garyisms are sayings and phrases my Dad is known for making. Things like, "I've got no problem with that." "Are you in or out." or my all time favorite, "you snooze you loose." So in this household, not only are my kids getting a little flavor of my mom, they are also getting my Dad. I just hope we do as great a job with them as my parents did with us.

Customer Service??? Hello??

2010-07-07T15:02:00.000-06:00

Have you ever gone to check out at a store and found no one at the check out counter? It seems as if this is happening more and more. Big conglomerate stores are replacing human beings with computers and technology, in "self-checkout" kiosks.

It's as if these companies have brought the ineffective automated phone menu to our stores. Where one pushes button after button, getting no human being to answer any questions, just more options, only when one finally reaches a person, they are located half a world away, and their English is sub par at best.

What frustrates me is the lack of customer service in general anywhere. In my town there is a movement of "shop local, buy local." After a melt down by yours truly at the self checkout at the grocery store today, I am looking into the food co-op and the CSA (no, not the Confederate States of America, but the Community Supported Agriculture).

First, my melt down happened because I was trying to use my own bags at the self-check isle. Since the only check out counter available was the express lane, and there was no clerk standing there, I was given no other choice but to self-check out. If you have ever tried to go shopping with a toddler/3 year old, you will know that half your attention needs to be on them at all times, or disaster will strike. Because I am not the kind of parent to ignore my children's misbehavior, or them while in public, self-check out is pure torture. Let's just say 5.6 seconds into my attempt at ringing up my purchases , things went afoul. Cookie started wondering towards the toys (which are conveniently placed across from the area) as I was struggling to put my own bags in the "bagging area" thus receiving a message that a clerk was needed. As I am looking around for someone to help me, wrangle my 3 year old, and figure it all out....I lost it. I started throwing the items back into the cart, announcing that "self-check" is crap and that is why I would prefer to be helped by a human. Of course now that I was making a scene, a person suddenly appeared saying, "ohhh but I will help you figure it out." Then I really lost it. "what is the point of you helping me here when I can have someone else help me the entire transaction at a regular line?" And miraculously the clerk for the express line appeared to "help me". This all left me grumbling like my grandmother, "this is why I hate technology replacing humans with computers, etc." Not only did I make a public scene in front of my child, I cursed and sounded like my grandmother. It was not my proudest moment by far.

Anyway the by product of this lovely shopping trip got me thinking about where I purchase our groceries. Which has me contemplating the local food co-op and the CSA. I've looked into the CSA before, opting not to participate, as I was concerned about getting 10 pounds of beets when I needed lettuce or potatoes. I have yet to visit the local food co-op, but am going to try it next week, even if it is on the other side of town. Since I am spending a third of our budget on food, I expect good service, I demand good service, and the idea that I have to bag my own groceries and check myself out makes me angry. This lady ain't takin' it no more.

Rookie

2010-07-05T13:37:00.000-06:00

For the second year running, we have had rain on the Fourth of July. And not the soft drizzle kind some might be used to during June gloom of California, but the Colorado, "here's a summer storm" kind. Thunder, lightning, hail, and torrents of water at once.

We had planned on having Hubby take Cookie over to the cities' fireworks display this year, but of course it was wet beyond wet, and cold. Not sure if the firework display was going to happen or not, we opted to stay home.

Hubby's good friend is visiting and the two of them had gone to Cheyenne, WY.....not once but twice over the weekend to buy fireworks and set them off. You see in Wyoming, it's legal to buy the dangerous kind. It is also legal to set them off there, too.

I had given Hubby the job of buying some smaller firecrackers for Cookie. And I emphasized Sparklers. But Hubby is a rookie, and was hypnotized by all of the ones that went "BOOM." Therefore, he came home with ones that made big noise, but not a lot of color. And sparklers, well he's just lucky his friend was with him, who bought just one box!!!! Yes, just one box.

Growing up, my dad would buy a good dozen boxes of sparklers. They were just good to have around for birthdays...or just because moments. Cookie was obviously let down....hubby, besides himself with embarrassment, started talking trip to Wyoming in a downpour at nine o'clock on the fourth of July. However, he got off easy, down the street a vendor always sets up, selling pretty tame stuff, yet all of the wizzers and poppers and sparklers that little kids adore and don't find too frightening. Even though the firecrackers were twice as expensive as those in Wyoming, hubby gladly plopped down the money to see our Cookie smile....and smile she did.

Next year I have a feeling that hubby will no longer wear the title of "Rookie".

Missing

2010-07-03T21:13:00.000-06:00

Since moving there are many things I miss about California. Sometimes I miss a good Mexican dinner or Korean food. I miss being able to go to the beach and smell the ocean air. I miss teaching and the challenge it presented daily. I miss my grandparents, where sometimes stopping by their house meant hearing a story I had miraculously never heard before. I miss my mom and dad. I regret that my kids don't get to see their cousins more than once a year. I miss seeing my brother become a man and get a "big boy" job. I miss monthly dinners with my friends. Yet, despite these things that I miss, they are not enough to make me move back.

This week I have been feeling a little down. Maybe it's hormones. Maybe it's feeling penned in by the kids and attached at the boob a little too long with Jelly. But really I feel lonely. A year and a half ago I made a new friend here. A new friend that really made Colorado feel like home. Someone who, when I called, would gladly change her plans in order to meet me and the kids anywhere. A friend who made me remember what it was like to feel welcome and liked and understood. I miss my friend. I miss going to the park and her and her kids being there. I miss someone here who understood.

I guess that there used to be nothing to miss about here, which was why it was so great. But now, there is one thing or people I should say that I miss and it makes me sad and it emphasizes all the things I do miss. I'm just missing.

It's my fault

2010-06-27T09:34:00.000-06:00

Some days it is just my fault. No matter what, it is my fault. Ohh the baby spilt your coffee because you left it where she can get to it. It is totally my fault for not watching her. You can't find your sunglasses...it is my fault. I should observe where you throw your items when you come in the door. You are starving and I am too busy with the kids to fix you a meal right that moment. Totally my fault that I have not mastered holding the baby while making a meal.

Hubby is by far not a demanding husband. He does not require me to fold or iron his clothes, he does not care if the house is in disarray. He is happy to have hot dogs for dinner or left overs if I don't feel much like cooking. He doesn't require me to prepare three meals a day. But sometimes, I just have to take the blame....and today is that day.

Mom's Buttermilk Cake

2010-06-20T14:17:00.000-06:00

My favorite recipe of my Mom's would have to be her Buttermilk Cake. It is so good that she would have to make two sheets of it any time she made it; one for the family, and one for whatever occasion it was being made for. It is one of those cakes that one can not stop eating. One of those recipes that everyone wants you to share.

So, for Father's Day, I present you with this wonderful recipe that any Chocoholic will love. Hubby , who is not a huge chocolate lover, will devour this cake. I must brag a little, that today's cake turned out perfectly. My mom handed the recipe over to me when I moved out of the house some nine years ago. And it has taken me that long to get this recipe perfect. The first time, I did not wait for the cake to cool before adding the icing and all I got was a gooey mess of melted cake with icing. I think I cried out of frustration. The next couple times came out okay......but the icing was never perfect. The key to this recipe is patience while melting the butter, for both the cake and the icing. Indulge and enjoy.

Chocolate Buttermilk Cake with Chocolate Buttermilk Icing

Ingredients for Cake

2 Cups of Flour
2 Cups of Sugar
1 tsp of Baking Soda
2 sticks of butter
6 tbsp of Cocoa powder
1 cup of water
1/2 cup of buttermilk milk
1 tsp of vanilla

1. Mix dry ingredients in a large bowl.
2. Over low heat melt the butter, cocoa powder, and water until butter is dissolved, stirring
occasionally to mix ingredients
3. Pour over dry ingredients, adding the vanilla and buttermilk and mix together.
4. Place in a 9X13 greased cake pan (mom always made this in a 13X13 thin sheet pan....which I
don't have. Since the icing is sooo rich, you might want to get a disposable sheet pan from
the market to make this last a little longer).
5. Bake 400 degrees for approx. 15-20 min. until cake is done. (25 min. in high altitude).
6. Cool completely in the pan

Icing Ingredients

1 stick of butter
6 tbsp of cocoa powder
1/3 cup of buttermilk
4 cups of powdered sugar
1 tsp of vanilla

1. Melt the butter, cocoa powder and buttermilk over a low heat in a saucepan on the stove,
stirring occasionally until the butter is melted.
2. Pour over the powdered sugar, adding the vanilla and stirring until the sugar is melted. Ice
over the cake as soon as sugar is incorporated for easy spreadability. Allow icing to
cool....and enjoy.

Happy Trails

2010-06-17T20:25:00.000-06:00

I love this time of year. I love that I can get out on the bike and exercise with the kids. I love that my town has such a wonderful trail system. Of course, weather permitting, this means I have no excuse to not exercise. The trail here goes literally from my front door to the complete other end of town. It does not mean a direct route though. To get to playgroup I have to wind around the trail about three miles in the opposite direction, only to head back the right way. But, it does give me that cardio I need to help drop the baby weight.

One thing that drives me nuts on the trail is all those places where there is no passing people on the left. The spots up hills and around tight bends that is really dangerous to pass. Not that I want to pass in a very precarious place, but lately it seems that every time I approach one of these places, there are the slowest people there. Normally I would not mind stopping or slowing down to a crawl for the cute little old couple, but when I am pulling two kids in a trailer that totals about 65 pounds...I start to get annoyed that on some days it seems like it is at only these bends and hills are people blocking my way. I know, there are soooo many other things to be annoyed with, but this is my little frustration.

Despite the old people, those with dogs off lease, and the complete tuned out, the trail is awesome. Two years ago, I even biked my way to Jury Duty.

A lot of Whipped Cream

2010-06-10T10:38:00.000-06:00

When I started going to weight watchers one of my sneaky secrets to success was whipped cream. I bought it by the trunk load, stocking my refrigerator both at home and at work full of it. People would joke at work that they would never see me leave the classroom without it. Sometimes, depending on the time of day, I'd even drag it out for a fire drill, the can propped under my arm.

For breakfast I enjoyed either a low fat yogurt accompanied by whipped cream or toast with jam, and guess what, topped with whipped cream. For snack I would enjoy some piece of fruit, slathered with it. Let's just say, it made me feel like I was having dessert all the time, but I knew that really, it was an easy way for me to enjoy low calorie foods, while getting some dairy. Since having Cookie, my sneaky indulgence and secret to my success could not be employed,Cookie reacted badly when I had dairy, making losing the baby weight all the harder. Of course I was so pleased that when I stopped nursing and Cookie began having Cow's milk, that I could indulge once again.....and guess what, with the help of some bike riding, and I like to think whipped cream, I started losing the weight.

Then along comes Jelly. Now, I can have dairy with her, but Cookie it turns out, is lactose intolerant. At age two, she just couldn't have it any more. Which meant that she could not have whipped cream, a staple with her breakfast of fruit. Because she couldn't have it, I couldn't have it. It just wasn't fair. We tried the soy and rice brand, which tasted okay, however they are really expensive and always the dispenser breaks, leaving half a bottle of it unused.

But today, Cookie is at Summer Camp and I am having whipped cream with my grapes and watermelon. I sense some weight coming off soon.

All anything needs is a lot of whipped cream.

Mommyhood

2010-06-08T14:23:00.000-06:00

The other day I was outside watching the kids play. It was in that moment that I realized I was bored. Don't get me wrong, I love being home with the kids. I love being able to be there for each and every milestone. I love seeing Jelly try and work out walking, seeing the wheels turning in her head and her experimenting with some idea that she just conceived. I love watching Cookie examine the growing vegetable garden and feed the horses around the corner. But let's be honest, little moments warm my heart, but most moments in my day just bore me.

So I was bored and I began thinking that when I was a teacher, I used to enjoy those little moments where I could just watch the students play out in the yard. The times where no one was bugging me and I could get my thoughts straight. The times where I could take out a pen and paper and start lesson planning for the next day. As a mom, the quiet moments where the kids are playing is not only short lived, but a time of non-production for me. I can stand there and think about the piles of laundry that need to be done, the dinner that needs to be prepared, and the house that needs to be cleaned....however, there is no way for me to get to them at that moment. While teaching, this time would feel productive, even if I never wrote anything down, because I was technically working on something....organizing lessons in my head or rearranging seating charts. At home, the only thing I feel productive about at these moments is to prioritize the chores that need to be done, but haven't had the time to get to. These moments, I realize, that I should probably be enjoying or relishing, actually drives me insane with boredom.

Cookie and I spent the weekend playing with a neighbor and when my neighbor left Sunday, after a couple hours of pool time, she said, "is it wrong to look forward to Mondays?" You see, she works. I told her of course not, she gets to talk to other adults about other things than the potty habits of her 3 year old, contribute financially to her household, and she gets a break from her kid. The one thing no one ever told me, or couldn't explain about being a SAHM, was how lonely, how boring, and how frustrating it all is at one time or another. When I was working, coming up with lesson plans was what I was paid for. No one is paying me to come up with fun, interesting, or crafting projects with my kids. It is hard to organize such things when I am just exhausted at the end of the day. It is hard to put all this work into maybe 10 minutes of interest on the part of my three year old. Five minutes of which we normally will spend frustrated at each other. If maybe I was watching someone else's kid, I would feel compelled to show how productive we've been. Instead, I just try to slog it through another day with out wanting to throttle my beautiful Cookie. Which is why I needed to find her something to do this summer. Which is why I am putting her in preschool. I just can't do it on my own. My Cookie needs to be stimulated, she needs to be discipline by someone other than us, she needs to find friends and playmates outside of playgroup.

Today, Cookie went to her first day of Summer Camp....and I found myself with still not enough time to get what needed to be done.

A Handy Man and one Dirty Birdie

2010-06-06T20:57:00.001-06:00

I admit, Hubby can drive me crazy sometimes. But, for the most part, he is a wonderful man, husband, and father. One thing I love about him, is his ability to create. He can make anything with his hands from just about any material.

This weekend he tackled the time consuming chore of making new window well covers. It has been a project that has needed to be done since we moved in. Let's just say the old ones were dangerous. Really the only thing they did was point out to anyone in the backyard that, "hey there is a window well here. Death is certain," as one step would be a step to disaster. Having not one, but two kids running around back there, made it a project that had to be completed sooner than later. (I'd take a picture, but it's dark and I'm writing this at 9:00 at night and who knows when I'll get another chance to write something about it, let alone upload a pic. So at a later date for one.) I must say they turned out really nice.

Despite Hubby's carpentry skills, at any "Manly" building task, he is also very much a guy when it comes to cleanliness around the house. I am not complaining, because, really his little quirks and things may be annoying, but they are nothing to divorce over. But, I had a little chuckle this evening, when said very tired Hubby retired quite early after a weekend of sawing and hammering, and building, leading me to the basement bathroom to take a quick shower. I really have not been down in the basement since I have had Jelly Bean. It used to be the place hubby and I hung out after we put Cookie to bed, but since we cancelled cable, and Jelly came along, it just hasn't been a place we go together. We tend to now, lay on the couch on the main floor together watching Hulu on my computer.

Anyway, the bathroom, and the basement resembled my husband's first apartment. I am not going into any gross details, but I am a little scared to have company in three weeks with it looking in the condition he has left it in. I know that it was clean when I had Jelly, since that was where my Mom was staying, but great googly moggly!!! Hubby claims that he will make sure it is clean before his friends get here, and I know he will.....but sweet Jesus man, clean a friggin toilet. Throw away empty shampoo bottles (note to self, buy shampoo for guest bathroom..and toothbrush, and toilet paper, and soap, and toothpaste...not to mention clean bathmat...nay get new floor mat, as the old one needs to be burned). Of course I chuckle, because this man can create many things, including a gigantic cesspool of scum. Here I was going to blog about some deep thoughts I've been having about Motherhood, my struggle to adapt, and finding some balance and answers for my feelings about certain things, and instead I was inspired by dirt.

Hope all of your weekends were as productive as Hubby's. And he thinks the kids are gross:0

The Worst Visitor Ever

2010-06-03T15:45:00.000-06:00

Dear Aunt Flo and Uncle Fred-

You are the worst visitors ever. You like to show up at the exact wrong moments. Your visits are always too long. And you are never on time; choosing to be either too early or late. Either way making my life complicated and full of anxiety. I spent the early part of my teens waiting for you to appear for the first time, then the later part of my teens praying you'd visit every month. I have spent a large chunk of time obsessed over the calendar, counting the days until your next visit. I have spent massive amounts of money in order to make your presence more comfortable or less inconvenient. You literally cause me pain. I officially hate you. You drive me to eat massive quantities of chocolate, and make me slightly insane. I despise the fact that you can control me in such a way. You are the one thing that makes me look forward to getting older, the idea that your visits will be no longer. So I thank you once again for making a visit this month, albeit late, but really, thanks but no thanks.

Ginger

One small step....

2010-05-29T19:17:00.000-06:00

Jelly is at that stage where she is crawling everywhere. Standing without holding on, walking with rolling things...but is still just one step from figuring it all out. That stage where it is hard to bring your baby anywhere because you just don't want them crawling on cement or dirt or whatever suface is not baby friendly. She's at the point where being held is not fun when we are at a new place. She just wants to crawl and explore...or in her case, crawl and climb. And of course I refuse to put her down because, my baby is still perfect. No bruises, no scrapes, just perfect beautifully soft baby skin. I know that if I put her down to crawl on cement, those chubby knees will get scraped, her legs will have little bruises and then I have to admit that I no longer have a baby but a toddler.

OOOps I think these are Granola Bars

2010-05-26T20:34:00.000-06:00

Today I attempted to make granola bars. It is not my first foray into making homemade ones. I have made the super yummy ones over at Evolving Mommy's site. But I wanted something sweet. Something to replace my Quaker Chocolate covered ones. I had some ideas on how to put it together, but I wanted some inspiration. Of course I went to my favorite recipe website and got a few ideas. But really I wanted three items in them: mini chocolate chips, Mini marshmallows, and coconut. So I started to just throw together items that I liked from all of the recipes I found online. I can not stop eating the final product. Cookie even loves it. Unfortunately I can not give to jelly quite yet, but I am sure she would ask for more and more. So below is what I came up with.

While this recipe may need a little tweaking, here it is.

2 cups of rolled oats
2 1/2 cups rice crispies
1/2 cup raisins
1/4 cup coconut
1/4 cup mini marshmallows
1/4 cup of mini chocolate chips
1 tsp flax seed
1 tsp of cinnamon
1 egg beaten
3/4 cups brown sugar
1/2 cup molasses
1/2 cup of honey
1 tbsp vanilla
1/2 cup of cashew butter

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Generously grease a 9X13 inch baking pan.
2. In a large bowl, mix together the oats, 1/4 cup of the brown sugar, rice crispies, raisins, coconut, marshmallows, chocolate chips, and flax seed. Make a well in the center and pour in the honey and the egg. Mix ingredients well.
3. Combine the rest of the brown sugar and molasses in a small saucepan over medium heat. Heat until just boiling, then remove from heat. Stir in cashew butter and vanilla until smooth. Pour over mixture and mix well.
4. Press into prepared pan using the back of a large spoon.
5. Bake in the oven about 25 minutes.
6. Allow to cool, cut into squares.

Childhood Memories

2010-05-25T07:47:00.000-06:00

I realized the other day that things that were staples growing up for me, things that were taken for granted will not be part of my own kids lives. The summer weekly trips to the beach, playing hookey to go to Disneyland, celebrity sightings and movies being made down the street.

It's weird to think my kids won't really know the beach. Won't know the sticky feeling of dried salt water on their bodies during the drive home. Or tar stuck to the bottom of their feet and sand in places they didn't know existed. Piles of sand at the bottom of the car, or sand burn from walking bare foot on the blazing hot surface. Seaweed wrapping around ankles, or finding buckets of seashells. They will know the beach as vacationers, not locals. In fact, I was so out of practice, that when we went to San Diego and the beach, I forgot to bring towels, changes of clothes, extra washing water and of course sand toys. Maybe next time.

After our recent trip to Disneyland, I realized that as kids, we probably went once a year. My own kids will get to go, maybe every two to three years. I used to know Disneyland so well, that I could tell you what company sponsored what ride. I could tell you when a cue was changed. Now, I didn't even know there was a new Winnie the Pooh ride. My parents used to take us kids once a year. They'd wake us up early in the morning, tell us to get dressed, and that we were going to visit family and had to take the day off school. We'd end up at Disneyland.

Movies were made right in my own backyard. Little House on the Prairie and Poltergeist just to name a couple. Celebrity sightings was an everyday thing. It got to the point that when you saw a celebrity it was no big deal. Moving making became more of a hindrance than anything. Street closures, detours, and rude celebrities was just another day in paradise. I can even claim to have taught a celebrity's offspring.

I am not quite sure what will become memories and every day past times for my kids. Maybe it will be summer bike rides on the trail or hikes in the Rockies. Maybe trips to Horsetooth Resevoir or one of the many lakes that I can't quite bring myself to go to because a lake is just not the ocean. Whatever we decide to do, my kid's memories will not echo my own childhood. I know we moved here for all the right reasons. I know we moved here for them, and maybe a little bit for us, too. But it is a little sad to acknowledge that the beach is now a vacation destination.

For the Record

2010-05-19T14:49:00.001-06:00

If you read my last entry than you know that I desperately need a break. Hubby gallantly offered me one, albeit not truly. He suggested I take break when I put Cookie down for a nap and take Jelly with me to get some coffee. Ummmm...last time I looked that would mean I still had an appendage. When I said I just needed some quiet down time...ie time away from the whole entire house, I did not mean time away from just Cookie. But, really I was happy to have Cookie just take a friggin nap. So I told him that I would rather stay home where Jelly could crawl around than be unhappy in a high chair somewhere...he then asked me to run errands.

So for the record, running errands is not a break. Taking one kid instead of two is not a break. It is easier, but not a break. A break is a blissful couple hours sans kids, sans screaming, sans someone hanging on one's leg. I am tired of taking Cookie places to play, and all she wants me to do is read to her. I paid $8 yesterday at the local play place for me to read to her! I can do that for free at home, at the library, and at the bookstore.

But, after she did nap for an hour today, I felt much better, a little more even, a little more less like I was going to loose it. And it helped that I told hubby that if he didn't stop provoking me, I really was going to loose it.

Tomorrow is a new day, let's hope it is full of happy kids and healthy kids.

I Quit

2010-05-18T12:54:00.000-06:00

I Quit! Sometimes as a Mommy I want to quit....well for just a little while anyway. Those days where it starts at midnight with multiple awakenings by the kids every hour until they fully awake at 6 a.m. full of energy, raring to go, while I slog through the morning trying not to fall asleep while playing endless block stacking. Those days where the whining is in fever pitch and that it is so bad I start whining. Those days that I actually turn to caffeine instead of decaf. Where I would like to go to the gym, but the whole idea of changing clothes, getting in the car and going just tires me. The day where getting on my bike makes me want to cringe.

Well today I quit! Or wish I could. But snotty noses have to be wiped. Teething babies need to be comforted. And meals need to be made. I remember my mom used to yell this same thing sometimes, "I QUIT!" Then she'd leave the room. Of course I totally had forgotten this, until this morning when I wanted to shout it at the top of my lungs, walk out the front door, and not come back until I had had some sort of caffeine laced chocolate ice cream concoction. I had a very clear memory then. Poor mom, she made it look soooo easy, or maybe I was just a rude clueless kid.

Hubby thought he was being funny when I went out to get the paper in my bathrobe and PJ's and he shut and locked the door. I yelled back, "I don't think you want to do that today, cause I'll just keep going. I don't care how I look." Plus my neighbor is out of town, I have the code to her garage, and she has told me that I am welcome to come and sit in her house and enjoy the quiet. Let me tell you, her house looked mighty inviting this morning.

Today, I wanted to say the words, "Goblin King, Goblin King, come take these children away from me." But really, I don't want my kids to be taken away, I want to get away, or be taken away to someplace far far away, for just a little while. If you've seen the movie "Date Night", Tina Fey's character admits that no, she has never thought about cheating on her husband, but she does fantasize about going to a hotel room, sitting in nothing but quiet solitude for a couple hours, and just enjoying a cold Sprite. Now I know I'm not the only one.

Amish White Bread

2010-05-16T17:21:00.000-06:00

My friend over at Evolving Mommy has challenged herself to make a new type of bread every week this year. I must admit, she is my hero when it comes to baking. I look forward to reading her blog every week to see what kind of bread she has made and if it turned out okay.

I have been on a mission to try and start making my own bread for the family. The first step in this process has been to find a recipe that I can make and have it turn out every time, something that not only tastes good, but something everyone in the family will eat. I wanted a recipe that was good for sandwiches, good with soup, and overall just plain great alone or with butter.

One of my favorite websites is allrecipes.com. I have found more fantastic recipes on this site. Some of course are not so good, but I have begun to be able to read through people's reviews and even the recipes themselves and determine if it will be worth the trouble. This said, I turned to the site for a great bread recipe. No offense meant to my friend Catherine, but her Honey Whole Wheat Bread, while good, did not do it for the family. Maybe it's because we're more of a white bread people, or maybe I just had to figure out how to make my yeast foam....whatever it was, I tried it, it was yummy, but the family wasn't sold.

After some trial and error, I came across the following recipe for Amish White Bread. I love that it is simple, the ingredients are simple, and that I can alter it, add to it, and it has always come out great. Add to the fact that hubby and kids like it. The family prefers the recipe as is below. But I have switched out 2 cups of the bread flour for whole wheat flour. I always add about a tbsp of flax seeds to each loaf. And I have also made this a breakfast bread. Since the recipe makes two loaves, I will take half and add cranberries, chopped up cashews, and some cinnamon. Yummmy.

Amish White Bread

2 cups of warm water
2/3 cups of sugar
1 1/2 tbsp yeast
1/4 cup of vegetable oil
1 tsp salt
6 cups of bread flour

1. Dissolve the sugar in the water in mixing bowl. Mix in the yeast. Allow yeast to activate about 10 minutes (should be foamy)
2. Mix in the oil and the salt. Add the flour one cup at a time. Knead Dough about 10 minutes (I use my Kitchen Aide with the dough hook).
3. Place Dough in a well oiled bowl. Cover with a damp towel and allow to rise about 1 hour until double in size.
4. Punch down dough and knead about 2 minutes.
5. Separate dough and place into well oiled bread pans, shape into bread shape. Cover both with damp towels and allow to rise about another hour, until dough is about 1 inch above pans.
6. Bake about an hour at 350 degrees. (I know when mine is done by sticking a temp. gage into the loaf and when it reads 180 degrees, bread is done.)

* I add flax seed when I add the flour. Also, if I want to add anything extra to one loaf and not the other, I separate the dough after the first rise, and then add to one half, and knead them separately.

Wait....am I in the wrong?

2010-04-25T14:10:00.001-06:00

You be the judge...am I in the wrong here? Situation: Hubby buys a safe. Said safe must be installed. However, the chosen place does not work. So he asks me where should we put it? I make a suggestion, he shuts me down. I continue about my business of feeding the kids and sewing. He then says something, I miss what he said. and reply, "I'm sorry what?" At the same time, my phone rings, I answer it. I had some really weird dreams last night and had a funky feeling today, so I really kinda wanted to answer it. (not that I shared this "feeling" w/ hubby. He'd just think me weird. But these feelings never have done me wrong.) I thought the call was from my Mom, so I answered w/ out looking at the display. Anyway, Hubby gets pissy because I answered the phone....says I should have ignored it because we were having a conversation. I had no idea the conversation was sooo important, so time sensitive that I was supposed to ignore the phone.

I mean, my phone rarely rings. And of course when it does, it is always at the most inconvenient times. Like when I'm going to the restroom, changing a diaper, making dinner, or upstairs and the phone is downstairs. So, the fact that I was right next to it, is a cause for a little irony, because apparently it was an inconvenient time anyway. I tried to make the call quick, it was a friend asking if I still had any formals her daughter could wear to prom. Total phone time...maybe five minutes. Of course right after I ring off, the phone rings again. This time it is my Mom. Like I said, funky feeling. My mom had told me that my parents were heading to Cambria for the weekend, so the first call I really thought it was my Mom and something had happened. second call, my funky feeling come true, they had a collision, with a deer!

Okay, so I could have ignored the phone, but really, I think hubby just got annoyed because the safe would not work where he wanted it to. Was I in the wrong? Was this worth a major fight and blow up. Was this really about the safe? About the phone call? As this suc a big deal that I should get the silent treatment all day? OY!

Food Revolution

2010-04-24T18:30:00.000-06:00

We've been watching Jaime Oliver's Food Revolution and frankly his findings regarding school lunches does not come as a great surprise to me. Having taught in public schools, I found the stuff they fed kids to be appalling. Some teachers ate the school food for lunch every single day. I couldn't stand the stuff, preferring to "paper bag" it so to say. It is depressing to think that many parents out there rely on schools to feed their kids at least one "balanced" meal a day. It is also sad, but I believe most of these parents buy "kid" friendly meals from the freezer section or the pre-packaged section in the grocery market and think that these meals are good for their kids because it is made by reputable companies like Gerber and Oscar Meyer. Or that the packaging boasts how healthy it is for kids...packed full of nutrients. And by nutrients they mean salt and fat and crap.

The other day, one of the Mom forums I frequent happened to have one thread where a Mom was besides herself on what to feed her 14 month old. She wanted help on how to get her daughter to eat healthy, but all the little girl wanted to eat was what the mom was eating, frozen dinners! The mom claimed that frozen meals is what she is used to and that is what she eats because it is easy. I don't think this mom wanted to change her own habits, but wanted to instil good eating habits in her daughter. While this is commendable, this feat will prove futile as long as the mom does not exemplify good eating habits herself. Our children learn from us. They see, they observe, and they absorb more than we can ever know. So one mom ironically named Ginger, suggested that this mother change her own eating habits and cook her own food and choose healthy meals she can share with her daughter. Giving many useful and helpful tips of how to prepare and store kid friendly, healthy foods.

I was quite happy to come across this thread only because Jelly Bean has hit a food transition herself. I really was inspired by the other Ginger's suggestions. Not having teeth yet, Jelly can't chew anything too hard, but she is not happy with the blended baby foods I have been giving her. Crying and throwing fits every time I have gone to feed her the last couple of days made me do something I never did with Cookie, I bought a packaged snack item from Gerber for her. I will call them crack puffs...because they are so addictive,so full of sodium, and crap that my baby wants to eat them and not stop. She grabbed handfulls of the stuff and then threw a tantrum when she ran out. This of course made feel like I had failed. I failed to provide my child something healthy, and I have ruined her forever to eating right.

Being a stay at home Mom has really allowed me to monitor the food my kids get. It allows me the time to buy fresh, healthy, and local foods to prepare for them. Being educated affords me the ability to read labels, and make informed decisions regarding what to buy. Early on I decided to make my own baby food for the kids. So the decision to feed Jelly these snacks went against everything I promised myself I would not do. But, we are going to California and Disneyland, and I was trying to figure out what I could feed her on the go, since I can't make my own food at the hotel. And of course Jelly has been on a food protest.

What I did discover, after forever banning these horrible snacks after the package is gone, is that Jelly just wants what we are eating. So, last night I prepared a chicken pot pie from leftover chicken and blended it up chunky for Jelly. Not only did she eat it, Cookie enjoyed the pot pie, too. I even made the crust from scratch, therefore I know exactly how much salt and milk, and butter went into the food my kids ate. So, I think a little earlier than Cookie, I now have to prepare and make food for the family that Jelly can eat, too. This actually is a good thing, as I have to make sure to prepare healthier things like baked potatoes and couscous(Cookie's favorite). In fact tonight I made couscous and Jelly kept signing for more as Cookie asked for more and more, also. If anyone wonders, couscous may be a kid favorite, but boy is it messy. But, I will put up with the mess in order to provide my children healthy food that they like. There is a food revolution in this house, and it is no longer mushy blended fruit and vegetable puree.

Hero

2010-04-20T13:21:00.000-06:00

When I was in the 5th grade, I was assigned an essay topic of "Hero". We were told to write about someone who inspired us, someone we looked up to. I remember that this topic stumped me for some reason. And like my Cookie, my frustration led to a major tantrum. There was crying, there was pencil throwing, and I think there was some major attitude towards my Mom who was trying to help. But eventually I sat down and began to write.

I wrote about my sister. I explained how she was the person I looked up to because she was such a great big sister. I wish I had kept that essay in order to remember exactly what I said. Today, I am reminded why I look up to my big sister. Why she is an inspiration and such a strong person. Why, as a parent, little annoying behaviors from my kids are just that...little.

Even before he was born, my nephew has faced challenges. The challenges many of us would struggle to cope with. Being born early, he spent weeks in the ICU. He had an irregular heartbeat, horrible reflux, and not to be forgotten the diaper rash so horrendous that he was placed bared assed up. Later more challenges appeared. Ear problems, resulting in tubes, thus surgery. By 2 1/2 he wasn't speaking and was diagnosed with Apraxia. Later came the diagnosis that he is slightly autistic, thus a need for a special diet. He seems to be allergic to a lot of things, like his mother. And now he is having seizures. Despite his challenges, he remains a sweet and loving boy. He brings joy to my Dad who just loves to spend time with him. He's in love with letters and was able to read and spell by age three. But some days it seems like this little boy is faced with nothing but an uphill battle. That his parents are faced with doctor visits upon doctor visits. Therapy session after therapy session. And many more challenges that parents of children with special needs face. Challenges that, those of us with seemingly "normal" kids could never understand.

Recently, my sister's daughter, my beautiful niece, was diagnosed with Apraxia, also. So today, when my sister has gotten heaped with more stress, more challenges, more to worry about, I salute her. She is truly my hero. She is someone I can proudly look up to and say, "I hope I can be as strong as her." Because today, my sister is faced with a child who on top of all those challenges may also be epileptic. Hang in there big Sis.

Out of my Cage

2010-04-15T15:13:00.000-06:00

It's getting expensive, letting me out of the house without kids in tow. Really really expensive. About a month ago, Hubby sent me out to blow off some steam, get away from the kids, and treat myself to some new clothes.

I expected to spend about $100. While the clothes themselves cost about that, I forgot to bring my glasses case. Usually when out and about with kids, I carry a backpack, stuffed to the brim full of kid crap. And in that backpack, I keep my glasses case. So, in the store, I was trying on clothes, I removed said glasses, went out of the dressing room to get a different size, dropped them without realizing it, and then...proceeded to step on them. Crushed beyond repair, I now had to get new glasses. Thus shopping trip total bill $550.

Today, after feeling an overwhelming sense of suffocation by my adorable almost three year old, hubby suggested I go out after putting the kids down for naps to get my head cleared. I had intended to go and buy some new bras (total cost, about $60). Of course they did not have my size, so I did not buy any bras...but I did get: 1 pair of jeans, 3 tank tops, and 1 camisole. (total cost: $80). But then I made the mistake of going into Gymboree.

I did not intend to buy anything really, just wanted to see if they had any good things on clearance. Instead, their new theme is zoo animals. Giraffes, elephants, and monkeys adorned all these adorable clothes. Normally I refuse to pay full price for kids clothes, they out grow them so quickly. However, Cookie has been obsessed with elephants. I mean really obsessed. Her birthday is coming up, and of course we are spoiling her by taking her to Disneyland when we visit family in two weeks, but I could not pass up the purple (her favorite color) dress with elephants on it. But did I stop there? Oh no, I had to buy accessories. Total cost of said trip to the mall for two new bras, that I didn't even purchase: $200! For her birthday Cookie is not only getting to go to Disneyland, she gets: 1 purple dress with elephants , 1 pair of socks with elephants , 1 set of barrettes with elephants and giraffes, and of course a matching outfit for Jelly.

Letting me out of my cage is a financial disaster.

The Letter C

2010-04-14T21:56:00.000-06:00

Cookie has finally become interested in letters. I have tried to sit down and teach them to her, but she is usually too full of energy to sit still enough to learn them. Plus, the two of us tend to butt heads when she becomes frustrated. There is just too much of me in her.

Lately she has been asking about letters. Mainly the ones in her name since we bought her the
Abby Caddabby T-shirt "C is for Charlotte". So far she recognizes most of the letters of her name. She consistently tries to write the letter "C" but it tends to come out backwards. And then the frustration builds and she ends up scribbling all over the paper in a fit of anger. She then screams in frustration at her inability to make it look right. Of course I try to remain calm, show her again, and try to guide her hand into making the motion the correct way. Cookie then gets angry because she wants to do it by herself. Thus we go round and round and round.

These bouts bring back memories of myself as a little kid trying to make a gingerbread house, the walls continually fell and refused to stand. In a fit of pique about it, I tore into the thing with a knife and pieces of gingerbread went flying in every direction. Yes, Cookie is just like me. This is the reason I could never home school my child. This is the reason Cookie will be attending Pre-school in the Fall....we are too much a like.

But I know one day, the letter C will come out just right....because "C" is for my Cookie.

One Last Wiff

2010-03-30T22:10:00.000-06:00

My baby is getting older. She's already kinda crawling in her own way, okay it's more like rolling. She stood up on her own today. I looked up and she had pulled herself up on one of her toys. And those darn teeth are making their way slowly out of her gums. Pretty soon she'll be talking and walking, and wrestling with Cookie.

But, there still lingers that baby smell. It's almost gone, I can feel it slowly melting away. So whenever I get a chance, I inhale her smell. There is nothing like that baby smell or that soft feel of a baby head. I catch myself rubbing her sweet little noggin, knowing that one day, without warning, that smooth baby soft down on her head will completely be gone. I rub it so often, that when we were out the other day at a cafe, another patron thought she accidentally bumped Jelly Bean while going to her table....I had to sheepishly admit, that no, there was no bumpage (I don't think that is really a word, but I'm using it anyways), I just rub it because that soft tuft will be gone soon enough.

I think once those teeth are in, I have to throw in the towel and admit that there are no more babies for us. Sometimes being a parent is bitter sweet. You look forward to all those firsts: crawling, walking, talking, riding a bike, etc. But at the same time, as each milestone is celebrated, there is a little sadness as to what had been . Memories of sweet baby kisses, where slobber and drool was cute and sweet, instead of gross and disgusting is what you have left of that time that goes too quick.

I can't wait to see what my children become, but sometimes I just want to stop time and get one last wiff.

Friends

2010-03-26T07:12:00.000-06:00

As some of your might remember, I have blogged about the difficulty of finding friends here in Colorado when we first moved. While I consider my fellow playgroup moms my friends, I can not say they have become "bosom friends" as Anne of Green Gables would say. We all have a great connection, a great time together, and provide a certain therapy that is necessary in maintaining our sanity.

Finding that one person or couple persons to hang out with changes when one has kids. Before you were just looking for someone you individually could be friends with. With kids, you start looking for a person you like, their kids you and your kids like, and a partner, your partner likes. To find the perfect trifecta is not easy.

Last year a new mom came to playgroup with her two kiddos. Right away we seemed to connect and the kids seemed to play well together. Later, by chance our husbands met while we enjoyed a family bike ride to the park. He was there with the kids, and a connection was made. For whatever reason our families made good friends. Maybe it was that her hubby liked to ride bikes, run, exercise, and be an active outdoors guy like my hubby. Or maybe it was that our kids love each other. Kinda like cousins or brothers and sisters. At the playground the three can team up and be a force to reckon with. Or that as a couple she was more like hubby and he was more like me, so maybe we were attracted to them like we are attracted to each other.

I was optimistic that this couple was here to stay. So were they. They had been looking to buy a home for over a year.....but the economy and new loan rules made it difficult. Then two weeks ago they dropped a little bomb to stir up my world...and maybe theirs, too. They were moving back to Florida. Family issues really, but I get the vaguest feeling that they have struggled with the decision. That really they want to stay here, but family obligations have pushed them to make the move back. Of course I understand, of course I wish the best for them, but for myself, and for my Cookie, I am a little bereft. Finding them was tough. And they were good for hubby, who has a hard time making the effort to make friends. He is also very choosy as to whom he lets into his circle of friends.

I will miss my friends and I will miss the holiday dinners and the kids playing together. I wish them the best. And maybe someday, we will find another couple whom we can call friends.

Vanilla Cookies

2010-03-18T08:21:00.000-06:00

One of the traditions my Mom used to do with us kids was to make roll out cookies for each holiday. I've never been a huge fan of her recipe, but I loved making them as a kid. She had a collection of cookie cutters for every holiday and some just for fun. Last time we visited, I exclaimed some dismay at my sister taking the Christmas ones and a book of fun activities for kids. Mom, being ever the diplomat, gave me the rest of the cookie cutters, boxing them up and shipping them to me.

Since I moved out of my parent's house, some ten years ago, I have been trying to find the perfect home made cut out cookie recipe. My brother once had a girlfriend who used to make these killer sugar cookies. When I asked for the recipe, I was surprised and delighted to find out they were from the Betty Crocker bag of Sugar Cookies. But, since having kids, I wanted to make them from scratch, not a bag. I take pride in the fact that I take the time to show my kids how to bake and cook from scratch, not just a box. I also wanted a recipe that did not have to be refrigerated, as when I want to bake, I want to do it all at once, not wait an hour or more. Maybe this is why I have not made a lot of breads, no patience for rise.

Imagine my surprise when I came across some yummy homemade cookies from my Hungarian friend. I asked for the recipe, and she obliged. Of course she had to translate the recipe from her Hungarian cookbook into English. And then I had to measure the ingredients in grams and then convert to cups for later use. But, the recipe turned out great and I am sharing it. The original recipe called for Vanilla Sugar, but I did not have any, so I substituted with real vanilla extract and I did not notice a difference in taste. These cookies are buttery, a little soft, but still have that great sugar cookie crunch and flake.

Vanilla Cut Out Cookies

2 3/4 Cups All purpose flour
2 1/2 Sticks of Butter (or 1 1/4 cups)
1 1/2 Cups Sugar
1 1/2 tsp Vanilla
4 Egg Yolks (reserve whites to baste cookies)

Mix all ingredients together until forms a dough. Roll with flour and cut out with favorite cookie cutters. Baste with egg whites, sprinkle with sugar or sprinkles if desired. Bake 350F until golden brown.

The batch I made, I did not sprinkle with sugar or sprinkles (although maybe we should have used sprinkles, but I wanted to taste them without first). You could also frost them if desired...but that might be sugar overload.

Comfort

2010-03-14T15:01:00.000-06:00

It is weird what some people find comfort in. For me it is food. When I am down I turn to chocolate and ice cream. When I am angry I turn to chips and dip. When I am plain worn out for some reason I want a rum and coke or a nice cheesecake. Others find comfort in books or exercise (if only).

My sweet little Cookie finds comfort in her clothes. I am not sure if this is going to be a bad or a good thing. I am comforted in the fact that she doesn't turn to food when emotionally down. Instead she wears her favorite shirt or dress. The day can be positively ruined if the shirt she wants to wear is dirty. Of course there was the infamous "Orangie" dress that was worn virtually every day for almost a year, until it started to come apart and was quite literally too small for her growing body to squeeze into. She now has four shirts in rotation that she will wear, nothing else. It makes me question why I even bothered to buy winter clothing for her, when she will only wear a shirt with a Sesame Street character on it. She won't even allow us to zip up a jacket for fear of covering her shirt.

I wish I could find solace in clothes. I wish I could experience the pure joy of finding an outfit that looked fabulous on me. I sometimes wish it could be as easy as Cookie finds it to love certain clothes. Of course, like any new parent, I had all these ideas about raising my kid. I definitely was not going to buy anything with a character on it. I caved. Only because I did not buy the first pieces. Two were hand me downs and one was a gift from her great grandma. But, slowly we caved. First it was the Big Bird shirt bought at Sea World, it was the thing she chose to get. Then it was the Cookie Monster shirt exchanged at Old Navy from a too small Christmas gift for her. And lastly it was the "C is for Charlotte" Abby Cadabby shirt I purchased so I could actually get Cookie to cooperate during pictures. Now I am trapped in merchandise hell.

Thirtysomething

2010-02-22T20:48:00.000-07:00

What seems like ages ago, hubby and I got rid of Satellite T.V. and have gotten our T.V. fix via the Internet and Netflix. We are saving something like $80 a month this way. This method has had one benefit I did not expect, discovering old shows and movies.

One night, when I ran out of new stuff to watch, I went looking for something "new" to me and rediscovered the popular show from the 80s, Thirtysomething. The show is timeless. I think I can understand why it was so popular with my parent's generation. Although, I don't believe my parents watched the show, I recognize its appeal. As a relatively new mom and wife, I found the writing on the show to capture the feeling of new parents and their frustrations...and I am only into episode three!

I just love discovering hidden gems.

Aunt Flo

2010-02-15T15:39:00.000-07:00

I know that this post may turn some people off but I am really excited. A couple years ago Hubby encouraged me to try a different Feminine product. He was working for an Internet porn site at the time, (something he's not proud of...but it paid the bills right after the .Com bust) and The Instead was a product ad on the site. At first I was a little skeptical and nervous to move away from tampons. Not to mention I found the idea of having to insert the Instead kinda icky. But the Instead looks a little like a female condom. It is designed to sit above the cervix and hold the period flow. It was fairly simple to figure out how to use, once one got the hang of it.

Well, years later....something like seven years later, I am happy to report that I love the Instead. Not only was it not as icky as I thought, but it actually made me feel cleaner than tampons. It is also cheaper than tampons, as I only had to change them half as much....and they were super comfortable. I could not feel them at all. One problem was their availability. I was able to find them at Target...but only once in a while. When they were in stock, I bought, everything that they had.

After I moved to Colorado, I had a harder time finding them, but then I got pregnant with Cookie and I was not worried....for a long while about feminine products. Imagine my surprise, while cruising the web, looking at cloth diapers for Cookie and looking to buy the Instead online, since Aunt Flo had reappeared after a long absence, and I could not find them at Target, that I discovered Feminine cups. (Wow sorry for that run-on sentence) The idea intrigued me. And I was having a harder time using the Instead after giving birth to Cookie. Things down below had changed.

So, on a whim I ordered my first cup, The Diva Cup, along with some diaper products. I really did not know anything about cups other than what I read from the company's website. But the idea of never having to buy feminine hygiene products again was the big seller for me. Not to mention that there is no threat of Toxic shock with them. The Diva cup was an instant hit with me. It is made of silicone and completely safe to use in your body. It was not so different than the Instead in insertion and it lasted even longer without having to be "emptied." The cup inserts inside the vagina and the itty bitty suction holes on it keep it in place and from leaking. After the initial shelling out of $60.00 or so, I knew I would never have to buy those pesky one time use items again. Plus, the cup was actually easier to use and it was even cleaner than the Instead.

A while back I discovered some great forums and one woman's blog about cups: http://menstrualcupinfo.wordpress.com/ After reading about the myriad of different cups out there, I am ordering my second cup. A different brand called Lunette. For about $45.00, I will get a new cup and hopefully and even more comfortable period. For those of you scared to try cups, let me just say, don't be. I think they are ingenious. Us ladies just need to get past a little squeamishness and the stigma of not supposed to be touching oneself "down there". For me, going green and saving money are just two more positive things about cups.

Crack O Pebbles

2010-02-11T07:20:00.000-07:00

I usually keep some lower sugar cereals in the house for Cookie. Cheerios of course is a favorite, but she also likes Rice Crispies. Hubby must have some sort of sugary concoction on hand, like Fruity Pebbles, Frosted Flakes, or Cocoa Puffs. Months and months ago I bought a bunch of Rice Crispies and Cheerios on sale with a coupon for something like a dollar a box. Hubby looked at me like I was crazy when I carried in ten boxes of cereal....but I haven't had to buy any in months, not to mention I saved a ton of money.

Yesterday, without realizing it, I ran out....of both. After having such a difficult time with getting Cookie to eat lately, when she asked for cereal for breakfast, I was excited. Then, I looked in the pantry. Uh Oh! All we had was Cocoa Pebbles and Frosted Flakes. So, I thought giving her the Coco Pebbles a better choice. Well, I was wrong. I think they put crack in the Coco Pebbles, because sugar does not cause this kind of reaction. Sugar does not cause my child to go bouncing literally off the walls.....for an entire day. Not just an hour or two....ALL DAY!.

Cookie was so high, that she couldn't even nap. An hour and a half in her room produced jumping on the bed, a fevered attempt to put away her books (okay that's a positive outcome), and a whole lot of talking. And by talking, I mean talking...a mile a minute. And Cookie should have been exhausted.

First thing in the morning I dropped her off at "The Farm", a local non-profit little farm that was holding a crafting class for 2 year olds. It was a drop off class (I know two in two days...awesome.) and of course she was the oldest and only girl. And she was wild. Drop into a fit of giggles for no reason wild. Run around in circles wild. I am quite positive she required some extra attention by the teachers. But, she did leave with a grin, until I told her we were not staying to feed the animals.

Following her hour of crafting and play, we went to play group. Two hours later, she was still crazy with energy. I was thinking, overtired energy...but, after eating a lunch, she did not settle down. So, I am now convinced it was the Coco Pebbles. Yes my friends, they put crack in them. That is the only thing I can conclude.

While Cookie did go to bed around 7:45, she had to cry herself to sleep she was so tired. But finally the crack had worn off. No more Crack O Pebbles for my kid.

All over the Place

2010-02-09T19:48:00.000-07:00

My post today will be all over the place. You see, I have a couple thoughts floating around and have to share.

First, today was a momentous day at our household, well momentous for me at least. Today, I dropped Cookie off at one of her classes....and got to leave! This is fantastic, this is awesome, this is liberating. Cookie may not quite be three, but her teacher felt her vocabulary and her physical abilities warranted a move up. Cookie was too advanced compared to the rest of her classmates. I make that sound like my kid is better than the rest. She's not, but they are all at least 5 months younger than her, and her teacher has to come up with alternative activities just for her. So, she suggested that I try the 3/4 year old drop off class. I prepared Cookie for days, discussing what would happen and how she was supposed to act. Maybe I should have taken a picture, but I was just too happy. Cookie dove right in after an initial, "Mom can you stay 5 minutes until I start playing?" Then, after five minutes she came over, gave Jelly and me a kiss and said good bye.

Today, my baby proved she is now a big girl. She is potty trained, night and day, she can dress herself, including shoes and socks, and now she is ready for me to leave her at school. Those of you who take your kids to daycare must have felt some sort of twinge when you dropped them off the first time, but nothing compares to the exultation of detaching your toddler from you when you are a Stay at home Mom.

Second, I not only got to enjoy an hour at a coffee house nearby with Jelly, but three other moms from the class joined me. It was fantastic. All three ladies were nice and so different. They told me they go to the coffe shop every week, and invited me in with open arms.....I am loving this.

Third, this is where I veer off course a little, I am a little ashamed to admit that when I found out that Cookie had some issues with milk, I was saddened. She will not be able to enjoy ice cream like normal kids, and even some frosting on cakes. It is weird to have a kids with special eating needs. Now a days I know that this is normal. That there are all kinds of restrictions, like no nuts, or in the case of my nephew, gluten. So not being able to give my kid milk products has become a challenge for me.

At first, we went completely dairy free. Then I started sneaking in milk products here and there. Hoping that maybe she was just lactose sensitive not intolerant. But, we have had another two weeks of yucky tummy, and I have to now admit, that my kid can not have milk products. The good news is, she is not alone in the world in this problem, and she is lucky to have this problem today, and not ten years ago. Today there are all kinds of alternative products, fairly easy to get. There is Rice milk and soy milk. Rice and Soy ice cream (although good, no where near as yummy as the milk product). I am even buying Soy yogurt and soy pudding snacks for her. The one thing I have not been able to find is a good cheese alternative. And who doesn't love cheese?

I discovered quite by accident, Tofu cream cheese. Sounds gross, I know. But really, the product is quite good. After making those adorable little cupcakes with Cookie, and the subsequent tummy aches this week, (which may be from the large quantity of lasagna she ate also....but who knows) I made her "special" icing for some cupcakes that were not frosted with cream cheese out of the Toffuti cream cheese. Toffuti also makes some yummy frozen tofu "ice cream" sandwiches. I discovered a lot of these products while nursing Cookie, you see, even as an infant, she could not tolerate milk products. Massive spit up was the result when I had milk products. Jelly seems to be a little sensitive, too....but not as much. Sooo, no milk products for her, and a whole lot of alternative thinking for me.

Lastly, I hate cell phone companies. I hate that they charge by the minute (brilliant for them). I hate that they make you sign contracts for two years at a time, and if you want to make any changes including things that up your bill, they re sign you for two more years. While I love having the ability to make a phone call now and not loose someone on the other end every five minutes and I love that I can get a signal in my home, I miss being able to talk to my Mom whenever I want. The idea that "nights" start at 9 p.m. is ridiculous. "Nights" should start at sundown. But that is just my rant for the evening. Miss you Mom.

Cupcakes

2010-02-05T14:25:00.001-07:00

Hubby is out of town for the weekend and I am stuck alone with the kids. There are numerous reasons to hate this, like never a break at night, having to be the "bad cop", and the cold bed at night. But to tell you the truth, I kinda like it when he is gone. The house is really quiet, even with two kids. I find that my kitchen is clean, there is no one making meal after meal and leaving their dirty dishes in the sink. And frankly Cookie and Hubby have been fighting a lot lately.

So when Cookie became a little clingy today, I had to come up with something to unglue my child from me. Since acetone and a hammer are not viable options, distraction is.

Tonight we are going to dinner over at a friend's house and I thought we'd bring dessert, so cupcakes seemed like the perfect detachment solution. I've been meaning to make these cute Mouse cupcakes I saw in a magazine for a while. But what makes them so yummy is the cream cheese frosting. However, the magazine suggested using store bought cupcake and decorating yourself. I really just wanted a dry run, since we may be making some fun cupcakes for Cookie's birthday this year instead of buying a cake.

Mouse Cupcakes

1 cake mix (any flavor you desire, we made chocolate)
24 cupcake liners
1 80z package of cream cheese (let sit at room temp. for 1/2 hr to soften)
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups of confectioner's sugar
1/4 cup of butter (room temp)
2 tbsp of cocoa powder
Chocolate rounds
black licorice
brown and pink candy coated chocolate
yogurt covered pretzels (pink if you can find them)
sprinkles (if only for more fun on your kid's part)

1. make cupcakes according to package. Let completely cool
2. Frosting: Mix the cream cheese and butter, until creamy. incorporate the vanilla and then add the sugar a little at a time until completely blended. Add cocoa powder.
3. Frost cupcakes (I just put the frosting in a Ziploc bag and cut the corner to make a pastry bag.
4. Decorate the cupcake to make ears, nose, eyes, and whiskers. Use the pretzels if you want a bow for your mouse. I could not find black rope licorice, so I bought some chocolate flavored twirl and cut it into strips.

No Taste, No Waist.

2010-02-02T16:39:00.000-07:00

My life has always been centered around food. I was either eating too much, too little, or not good enough, according to my grandmother that is. Really what I was doing was eating too much and never healthy enough. I don't necessarily blame my parents. They always adhered to the government's food pyramid. One meat, one starch, and one vegetable on the dinner table. Unfortunately, we never really had that many fresh vegetables for dinner. While we had a lot of salad and corn on the cob, there was only canned green beans and peas, and frozen broccoli smothered in cheese. Nothing to inspire a love of veggies in a kid. In fact for the longest time I claimed to hate peas and green beans. It wasn't until I joined weight watchers and decided to give cooking and vegetables another go.

Starches consisted of some kind of potatoes or boxed rice and of course yummy pillsbury rolls. Now potatoes baked are healthy, but we smothered them in butter and cheese. Mashed potatoes...butter and milk (not from a box, thank goodness). Boxed scalloped potatoes and of course lots of Rice a Roni. I remember when I first brought hubby home for dinner, we fed him Minute Rice. He was appalled. Let's just say, a rice cooker was a wonderful gift to my parents years later. Weight Watchers changed most of that for me.....until Cookie that is. Now I get it. Boxed is quick, it's easy. There is hardly any thinking involved. But things around here must change.

Weight Watchers taught me a lot. And as I struggle to take off these post baby pounds, again, I am constantly trying to channel my old leader Char. She was awesome, one in a million, a true inspiration. So today at the gym I saw a girl wearing a t-shirt "No Taste, No Waist." I could picture Char adopting the saying and something in it hit a cord. We have been having some problems getting Cookie to eat...well at least eat healthy. What kid doesn't want cookies for breakfast and chocolate covered granola bars for lunch? While these things are great snacks, they have become food items Cookie is asking for constantly. I hate to be the food police with her, but sugar for breakfast and lunch is not acceptable. She has been refusing to eat. Meals have become a fight. And as a result of her not eating dinner and sometimes lunch, she is not sleeping well.

I get that this new food problem is about control. I am concerned that she is going to form food issues. As it stands our kid is anorexic. She has lost almost 2 pounds! Of course if I gave her nothing but sugary foods she'd eat it. But, I can not force her to eat. So instead I decided that I need to be a better example. I need to plan better. And I need to be a healthier eater for her. Weekly lunch and dinner's are now planned....fruit is included in breakfast and lunch. And vegetables are with dinner. I am forgoing those boxed rice and potato sides and making my own. Now that Jelly is older and a little bit more predictable (until she isn't, she's now rolling and almost crawling!!!!) I am able to plan better. We all get inspiration from many places and I have to say that the First Lady Michelle Obama inspired me to be a little more proactive in Cookie's food health. She talked about her kids gaining a bit of weight and little changes go a long way. So hopefully with some changes, Cookie will learn to eat healthy without knowing it.

I am in love with Hubby all over again

2010-01-28T12:58:00.000-07:00

Let's be Frank, sometimes I don't like Hubby much, but this morning I was reminded why I fell in love with him. My Dad, who always had good intentions, was never the protective type. If one of us kids were "wronged" it was my Mom who became indignant. Mamma Bear reigned supreme in our household. Dad just seemed indifferent. Of course, not having an older brother, I did not get to experience the over protective big brother, who takes care of little sister either.

I think I would have loved to have some strong man to protect me. So the fact that my husband fulfills that role really makes me feel...all gooey inside. This morning, when that brother of the friend I mentioned in an earlier post made a rude comment regarding me on facebook (I have now deleted him as a friend completely, before I just blocked his updates)....my husband eloquently and pointedly told the jerk where he could take his comments. I was definitely turned on. It made me feel loved and respected, and beautiful. Hubby's ability to find some one's weakness and exploit it is truly a gift. His ability to say just the right thing to make someone cry is unfounded. So, when he uses said gift in my defense, when he protects me, I am overwhelmed.

So today I am reminded why I am in love with my husband.

I Am Being Stalked

2010-01-24T21:10:00.000-07:00

I am being stalked. I am sure that some of you might remember the Mom who tends to shadow every place I enroll Cookie in. The mom that I love to hate. The "perfect" mom with the "perfect" kid. The Mom who smugly told me that "her daughter was just soooo excited about becoming a sister" when I voiced my problems with Cookie's sleep patterns when we first got Jelly Bean's crib and room set up.

Frankly, I am not sure why this mom rubs me the wrong way. Maybe a little jealousy at her ease of making friends in the activities I enrolled Cookie in, when I didn't. Maybe it was the condescending tone she used when I complimented her daughter's adorable hairdo. Maybe she is a little too much like me. Both of us seem to want to be in control and I might admit to maybe wanting to be a little center of attention. So maybe we just can not possibly be in the same group because both of us need to occupy the same title in a group setting and it just can not happen.

So imagine my surprise when I found out from another Mom (her very closest friend) in one of Cookie's "play" class that this Mom was considering the same preschool as we are. I mean, there are over 20 preschools in town, and she is considering the one that I love. The one that we are probably going to enroll Cookie in. While on the surface this might not seem too bad, but it might be. You see, the school is a co-op, and we are required to assist in the classroom. And it is a small school. They only enroll a total of 12 kids....so we would have to work together. I have in the past managed to befriend and work with my arch enemies because, well I had to. I was paid to. It was my career. So, for Cookie, I of course would do anything, be anything, and I will work with anyone for her. I will suck it up and learn to love this Mom. Maybe we could become friends....but I'm not holding my breath.

Stir Crazy Crafting

2010-01-20T15:55:00.000-07:00

Last year about this time, I remember reading a post on the local Mom's site about a mother who felt she was going slowly insane playing play dough and painting over and over and over again to the point that if she had to sculpt one more play dough ball she was going to scream. She was begging us other mom's for other ideas on how to entertain her toddler during the winter....which always about this time, seems as if it has lasted forever and will never end.

Yes, the downside to living in a place with four seasons is the long winter days. The days where it is too cold, too wet, or too windy to venture outdoors with the little ones. The days that seem to last forever. I had responded to the mom with some suggestions on getting out and about or some new craft projects she could do, while sympathizing and agreeing with her.

Of course, like any public forum, there is always someone out there who disagrees with you, someone who likes to provoke discord. In this particular case, it was a woman who decided I should be eligible for the world's worst mother award for saying that I "felt the mother's pain" of bordom . While I wanted to respond, I knew that the posts back and forth would continue, so I took the high road and just told her that her comments were "meant to provoke" and that no further response would be coming. Other mothers jumped to my defense, but I was really angered by this person's comments, and decided to start blogging. While it took me a while to really start my own blog, the idea was planted....mostly because of my playgroup friends, but really I needed a place to put down my thoughts and vent.

So in honor of those housebound mom's who are feeling a bit stir crazy, the following project is for you. Cookie and I started making place mattes this year for Thanksgiving and now we haven't stopped. I had recalled sitting at my Grandmother's kitchen table as a little girl and eating on her place mattes. The one's she created from old greeting cards. I am not sure if they were actual cards she had received or cards she had acquired while working at the gift shop at a hospital, but I loved to look at them. I remembered them when wracking my brain trying to come up with new projects for Cookie and me to create this winter. The best thing is....you can make them to any theme you want. Lately we have just been printing out coloring pages from Cookie's favorite shows' websites. She colors them, I cut them out, she pastes them to a large piece of construction paper, and finally I cut and peel the contact paper and voila, place mattes that will please any toddler.

Place Matte

Items Needed:
Contact Paper Roll
Scissors
construction paper
Glue Stick
Crayons
Coloring Book pages (or any other themed pictures)

1. Color and then Cut out Color book pages
2. glue to Construction paper. Let Dry
3. Cut Contact Paper to Construction paper size, leaving an inch to two inches around edges. Cut two sheets. Start to peel paper off Contact paper, then place finished construction paper face down onto Contact paper (leaving about an inch edge) gradually peeling the contact paper and smoothing out. Do the same to the other side. Cut edges to be even.

Handy Manny, Yo Gabba Gabba, and Mickey Mouse and Friends. One of our Thanksgiving Mats. We cut out leaves and Cookie glued them down.

Christmas Card Mats. If you don't see yours then we got it after New Years.

Compassion or Hypocricy?

2010-01-15T07:54:00.000-07:00

I was quite reluctant to start using Facebook at first. I was a little nervous about the privacy and maybe just a little reluctant to re-connect with some people. It does make it a little awkward when one is "friended" by someone they don't quite want to be friended by. For some it's their parents. Or maybe that old high school flame. For the most part it has been a fun experience for me. But I think I have really gotten to know some people's true feeling via the anonymity and the actual faceless nature of conversations. People who are more conservative than I knew, or more religious sometimes caught me off guard. And I did find it a little unnerving to re-connect with the parents of some of my friends, which may border on the creepy depending on whom we're talking about.

There is one person whom "friended" me that at the time I thought was a little weird, since we never quite got along. A person who I thought was kinda a jerk growing up. It was my friend's older brother. On the outside it seemed like he finally had gotten his act together. He is married with two daughters. He seemed to have found God and Jesus and I was hoping a less than A-hole character that he had as a teen. That maybe he had turned around. But, he still makes the same off color comments, the same rude, racist, and sexist remarks that make me cringe. So, today, I am turning him off. Usually I can tune these people out, but yesterday I had it.

Here's the thing, his comments yesterday were not sexist, or even racist, I think they were just cold hearted and political and it made me sick. He was pissed off that the United States, IE: Obama, was promising to send $100 million in aid to Haiti. I know that his reasoning is sound. Yes the United States is in a hole so big, that even black holes in space have hole envy. I know that unemployment and the economy here in the States is dire. That the fact that more and more people are facing homelessness and poverty is astronomical. The idea that we even have $100 million to send is ridiculous....but just the same. We are talking about the Western Hemisphere's poorest nation. These are people who have little to nothing and now nature has come and smacked them down. I believe that before nationality, before race, or sex, we as a people must help each other. The people of Haiti have no food, no water, no electricity. Their government has been broken, the people who are trained to help have either been hurt themselves or are dealing with their own losses. Our country and our people have the resources and the ability to help and we should. We would hope and pray the same kind of compassion for our own...which we failed to do after Hurricane Katrina.

But I remember the 1994 earthquake in California. I remember sleeping in the tent outside the house because we were too scared to go in. I remember going to the stores to stand in line for milk and bread. We were out electricity and water for two days. I can only imagine the feeling of the people in Haiti to be ten fold of what we felt. But I remember my Dad rushing in to my brother's room as he was leaving for work when the quake hit to protect and cover him. I remember the apartment building in the Valley crushing and killing people. The 5 freeway collapsing. I remember the fear. I may not be religious, but I know that the Bible, the Koran, and the Torah all teach compassion and alms giving. The Hypocrisy of the people shouting to take care of our own while quoting the Bible is not wasted on me. We must take care of each other, no matter who we are or where we live. As a mother, I can not watch the news and hear more and more stories of children stuck in the rubble. I can no longer watch the desolation and desperation on the faces of other mothers. If that was one of my girls, I would hope that someone out there, with the resources I needed to rescue them. I am fortunate to live in the United States, where when Balloon Boy is reported flying over the county, that the government can deploy the National Guard to help.

Maybe I shouldn't judge other people's sense of morality.

The Saboteur

2010-01-09T22:09:00.000-07:00

I have been a weight watcher now for almost ten years. It is hard to believe it has been that long since my first journey to losing weight. And I mean really truly losing weight and working to understand my "food" issues. Because they are big.

One of my biggest problems is "the saboteur." The person who always works to ruin my resolve. The person who buys the chocolate chips because, "we might need to make cookies" or the person who has to eat the whole thing because "it would just be wasteful to throw out food". Yes, the saboteur. I hate the saboteur. Today when Cookie announced upon waking up that she wanted to "make cookies." The saboteur said, "Yes, let's make cookies." And the saboteur was thinking, "she asked so nicely and with such a smile, how can I say no."

Yes, I confess, I am the saboteur. I am my worst enemy. I continually make excuses. What is so sad is that I thought I conquered the saboteur. I thought I slayed her almost ten years ago on my first weight loss journey. But apparently I only locked the saboteur in the closet and forgot to throw away the key. Well no more, the saboteur must be stopped. She must be quieted. There is that old saying, "A moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips." But I prefer to remind myself of what I learned in one of my WW meetings. The food is not going to serve me any better in my stomach than in the trash. It is actually more wasteful for me to consume the food and then have to work it off than tossing it.

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, but I do believe in making promises to oneself. When I first decided that I no longer wanted to be overweight, I took weight loss in small steps. First, I resolved to exercise and make it a habit. Once that was done and gym membership bought, the next step was to start eating right. That is when I joined Weight Watchers. I then resolved to fit into a certain pair of jeans, then, I wanted to be able to shop at Ann Taylor and be able to pick anything and look good. Once that was accomplished the rest was easy. Unfortunately I am back to square one, and really lacking some motivation. Yes, I hate how my body looks. Yes, I hate that extra roll that appeared with baby number two and is not going down. But having two kids makes me want to eat chocolate and sugar......all the time! Maybe once I can have caffeine that jolt that the sugar gives me will be replaced.

Anyway, I have made the first step by rejoining the gym and going no matter what twice a week...which I think I need to increase to at least 3 days. My next step is to eat more healthy. I have gotten away from that. It really is not that hard, I have just gotten lazy. But first, The Saboteur must be stopped!

Potato and Corn Bacon Chowder

2010-01-08T05:49:00.000-07:00

Being a Stay At Home Mom has allowed me to hone my cooking skills. No offense Mom, but, I really didn't learn too much about cooking growing up. Sure Mom showed me how to measure and how to follow a recipe, but cooking really has been a learning process with me. I am lucky in the fact that Hubby is generally great at everything and that includes cooking and baking and sewing. He can mend rings around me. So, in the process of learning to cook, hubby has really been patient and has given some helpful tips.

What is amazing is that even though hubby is the better cook, I have taken up the cooking reigns around our home. I guess that comes with being "Suzie Homemaker." A title I have come to love and hate. Anyway per the suggestion of hubby many moons ago, I turned to allrecipies.com in order to find some new stuff to cook. I guess hubby was just tired of the three things my Mom taught me to cook: Spaghetti, beef stroganoff, and pot roast. So my Potato Bacon Chowder is actually a recipe I improved upon one day while staying at my Mom's. My Dad had asked me to make something for dinner, so I made a shrimp Mac n Cheese and the following Chowder both inspired by allrecipies, but I think improved upon by me. What really makes the following so good, is the addition of the cream corn (a result of not having an item the recipe originally called for.)

Potato and Corn Bacon Chowder

2-3 cups of peeled, cubed potatoes (any kind)
1-2 cups of water
8 bacon strips
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup carrot peeled and chopped
1 (10.75 oz.) can condensed cream of ckn soup
1 can of cream corn
1 cup milk (approx. I just pour the milk into the emptied cream of ckn soup can for measure)
1 cup of sour cream
1/2 tsp salt
pepper to taste
1 tbsp minced parsley (optional)

1. In a large soup pot, cook the potatoes in the water. (use enough to just cover, then add about
1/2 a cup more).

2. Meanwhile cook the bacon in a skillet until crisp; remove to paper towels to drain. In same
skillet, saute onion, celery, and carrot in the drippings until tender, drain.

3. Add the onion, celery, and carrot to the undrained potatoes. Stir in the soup, corn, milk,
sour cream, salt and pepper. Cook over a low heat to simmer until the soup reaches a
consistancy you like. (I love to simmer this down to a nice thick chowder, where the
potatoes are really creamy. Usually at least 2 hours. But you can even cook for about 30 min
and then enjoy).

4. Crumble in half the bacon and stir into the soup along w/ the parsley if so desired. Sprinkle
the rest of the bacon over the top of each bowl.

Guilty feeling

2010-01-05T16:41:00.000-07:00

Went to the gym today and was feeling pretty good about it. But have you ever had that niggling feeling in the back of your head that you forgot something or something is wrong? Call it woman's intuition or whatever, but I sometimes get those feeling. And often I ignore them. I usually dismiss that feeling as my paranoia or silly worry worting (I made a new word so sue me.) Unfortunately my "feeling" is usually dead spot on. I could give examples, but that would be a huge digression.

The first time I went to the gym, I dragged my phone around with me. Fearful that Hubby would need to call me in regards to a screaming kid, thus ending my trips to the gym. But no such event happened and I started leaving it in the car. Here was my thinking. I once had my gym locker broken into, and so now I never leave anything but the car keys, which is ridiculous because they could just go outside and steal the car, but at least that's insured. I also figured if anything was really wrong and he couldn't get me on the cell, he'd call the gym and have me paged or found or something.

I forgot one thing, Hubby tends to loose all sort of brain function when there is a crying baby. He literally shuts down and can not think straight. I think we have all been there...but he is especially prone to this phenomenon. So, of course today, Jelly Bean woke about 30 minutes after I left and was "starving" (which was crazy because I had only fed her an hour before). Hubby text messaged me asking if the milk I had frozen in the freezer was still good, and of course I had missed the text. What gets me is that I have fresh milk in the fridge, did he not look in the fridge? So about 45 minutes after the text, I called him back and said that there was milk in the fridge. By the time I got home, Jelly was still crying and hubby was beside himself, trying to feed her from a bottle with a nipple and a top that did not fit together. Of course I was left feeling pretty guilty.

But in the end, much of this debacle is Hubby's fault. First of all, why did he not think to look in the fridge? Second it is his fault really that Jelly will not take a bottle. He refused to feed her from one at the beginning and she would not take one when I held her. Third, why didn't he just give her rice cereal? Really no imagination whatsoever.

However, that mother's guilt leaves me blaming myself. I was stupid to leave the phone in the car. I had that feeling today when I left it there. I even thought, "maybe I should bring it." On the drive over to the gym I also thought, "Hubby knows there's milk in the fridge right? He would know to just give her cereal, right?" Ohh I should have told him.

As a result, Jelly cried for a good hour. She went hungry for all of an hour and a half, but was eventually fed and was happy. Oh, and Hubby gave me the silent treatment for an hour. But I still feel guilty like I should have known.

Why don't I keep Chocolate in the house?

2010-01-04T16:23:00.000-07:00

After consuming a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips I had resolved to stop keeping chocolate in the house. It is just too tempting and too dangerous. Of course this resolution happens to coincide with return of Aunt Flo. So after desperately searching my pantry high and low for that chocolate fix....leaving me wondering "why the hell don't I keep chocolate in the house?" I remembered my little niggling resolution and the embarrassing consumption of the bag (okay two of them...not in one sitting thank you....over a period of a week).

But really I was desperate for chocolate and couldn't figure out why...when that lovely monthly visitor returned after a little over a year absence. I've been wondering when she'd return. I've been dreading it. But I should have known. The night sweats are back in force and I've been quite bitchy all week. Not to mention the short lived cleaning spurt. So why don't I keep chocolate in the house. I just can't say no. I even went so far as to bake a cake, although a lemon cake, in a failed attempt to feed my craving. While this sugary confection choice kept me from consuming an entire cake in two days, it has not curbed me from eating it.

I must confess I caved and bought myself a chocolate bar. But not just any chocolate, I bought Godiva milk chocolate. I know most people prefer dark chocolate, and it's supposed to be better for you, but I love milk chocolate. Under normal circumstances, I may have eaten the thing quickly. However, I had to hide eating it from Cookie, not because I didn't want her having chocolate, because I didn't want to share. Thank heavens for the chocolate at the checkout stand at Kohl's...otherwise I was a little afraid I was going to turn to the baking chocolate.

Christmas rocks

2009-12-21T18:42:00.000-07:00

Okay, I am not religious. I have serious questions about God, about Jesus as the savior, and pretty much any other religious belief that exists out there. But I must admit, I have taken the Christ out of Christmas. I love Christmas. In my house we celebrate the season of giving, Santa, and the gift of winter. For Easter, I tell Charlotte that we are celebrating Spring and all it has to offer, and the Easter Bunny of course. So maybe just maybe I will need to do a little educating about the holidays, but I can't seriously stick to just plain Jesus. My history background forces me, no guides me into seeing the whole truth of the celebrations we know today. So the syncretism of the birth of Jesus, with the druid beliefs in the Winter Solstice, with the Roman and Greek Gods is something I can not get past. But, I still love Christmas.

I love the lights, the smells, the trees, the gingerbread men, the secret gift hiding, the baking, the cooking, the drinking, and even the crazy shopping. When I taught school, I used to decorate my classroom for winter. I had snowmen and gingerbread men, and snowflakes. I also threw in a Christmas tree and a Menorah on the Calendar. While I have serious issues with the Roman Catholic Church, I must recognize their canny ability to create great holidays by combining all the fun things from other religions with theirs. What great salesmen and how do I hire them? Who doesn't love the Christmas tree, candles, and good food. Not to mention a Saint who brings presents. I love Christmas.

I especially love seeing Cookie excited about Christmas. We may have to work on teaching her how not to be so greedy since she keeps adding toys to her list of things she wants. I really stuck to a budget this year and was proud of how I was able to stop buying, even though a bed tent, more train tracks, a Sesame Street Shirt, an Abbey doll and much more were asked for and not bought. But it will be an exciting Christmas morning. She has already begun the shifting through of gifts and seeing how many she has verses her sister. ( my favorite past time). She likes to guess what is in them, and generally Christmas can not come too soon for her. Ohh yes, I love Christmas, and so does Cookie.

Christmas Rocks

I am a new woman

2009-12-17T19:15:00.000-07:00

Those of us who have had the joy of pregnancy know that an amazing thing happens post pardon. The hair fall out. All that beautiful pregnancy hair begins to fall out in clumps. It clogs the drains, the vacuum, and gets into just about everything. For Thanksgiving, I made sure to braid my hair and wear a bandanna to keep from getting hair in any of the food. ( which caused one of those OHHH GOD!!!! I'm my Mother moments). And not only is there the massive hair loss, but the massive hair damage from all of those hair ties and clips one puts their hair up in to keep out of the way post baby. Really, with a new born, who has time to do their hair, let alone brush their teeth? So now four months later, things have calmed down, we have established a nice routine, and I am ready to get my body back.

My lovely wonderful neighbor offered to watch Cookie one day last week, so I dropped Cookie off, told hubby that Jelly Bean was being left with him and I was going to get a hair cut. Jelly is napping pretty good now, plus she is no longer eating every two hours, so it was time for Hubby and Jelly to bond a little. Now, I can never really tell if something will pan out or not, so I did not make a hair appointment. Instead, I just showed up at a random hair salon as a walk in. And I am a new woman. It is amazing how just a little hair cut and an hour will do to one's Psyche. Hubby saw how much it helped my "attitude" that he went and got me signed up at the gym and told me to take some time each week to go, that he could work it out and give me some time.

So, not only do I have a nice new hair cut, but I have been the gym twice this week. Even though I am tired, I still feel great. I really really really missed the gym the last two years. I like it so much, I even love the drive to and from the gym. A quiet car ride without a talking, crying, or screaming kid is heaven. I am a new woman......now I just have to work on eating a little healthier and I am there.

Santa Arts and Craft Bag

2009-12-12T15:38:00.000-07:00

Here is a fun arts and crafts project Cookie and I did together. All you need is some tacky glue, red and pink construction paper, a plain gift bag (white or brown will work), a pair of googly eyes, a glue stick, and cotton balls.

First, cut out a rectangular piece of the red construction paper and glue it to the top part of the bag. Cookie was able to put the glue down and then help me put the paper down.

Then glue a cotton ball at the top right hand corner of the red. I placed a dollop of the tacky glue to the spot and had Cookie put the cotton ball on it. I then drew a circle where the Santa face should be and glued on the eyes.

Finally glue the cotton balls around the face for a beard and hair. Cut out a pink circle for a nose and glue down.

Now you have a cute Santa bag to put handmade goodies in for gifts or a nice centerpiece at your Christmas table.

Banana Apple Bread

2009-12-12T09:09:00.000-07:00

If you like Banana bread this is a sure thing recipe. I found it years ago and make it often. Hubby often complains when I make it because he is not that big of a banana fan, so I started adding the applesauce as a way to make it less banana-y. You can add more bananas and eliminate the applesauce, or reduce the bananas and add more applesauce. Below is the recipe I prefer, but feel free to change it up. I would love to include a picture, which I actually took, and it came out great, but I have been having some issues uploading the images fromt he camera to the computer. But trust me, this is a good recipe.

Ingredients
2 bananas
1/2 cup of unsweetened applesauce (I just use one of the individualized cups)
1/3 cup of butter melted
1 egg, beaten
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
dash of salt
1 tbsp of raw or turbano sugar

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees
2. Mix bananas and applesauce together. Add the melted butter, beaten egg, baking soda, and
vanilla.Mix well. ( I just put all in my mixer and set at low as I add)
3. Mix in Sugar and then flour a half cup at a time.
4, Add the salt, cinnamon and nutmeg. Mix
5.Pour into a greased bread pan, or into a cupcake tin w/ liners. sprinkle the raw or turbano
sugar over the top. (Hubby loves to just eat the tops of the muffins when I make them that
way)
6. Bake 1 hour at 375 degrees or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean (I actually
use a spaghetti noodle, as they are cheap, whereas toothpicks are expensive.)

Christmas Traditions

2009-12-10T15:01:00.000-07:00

The one neat thing about marriage, is the blending of traditions of two families. I am sure that forming one's own family traditions can be filled with some head butting between husband and wife. I have friends who have struggled to accept some of their husband's family's traditions. Like trimming the tree on Christmas Eve instead of sometime in early December. Real vs. Fake, Flocked or unflocked...Or even the argument about what to have for Christmas dinner.

I guess I am lucky, Hubby's family really has no Christmas traditions. So, for the most part, anything I suggest is accepted by hubby. Open one gift on Christmas Eve (pajamas), trim the tree and put up lights the day after Thanksgiving, (only if Hubby is up to it), a toothbrush in the stocking (he's lukewarm to this). Christmas cut out cookies.....made and eaten in two days. These traditions leave me feeling all warm and fuzzy. Maybe it's because my parents really made an effort to make the season special. But a house full of Christmas decorations and cookies really stands out in my mind.

Hubby admitted to me that he has really enjoys the fact that I have made it a priority in providing the kids with wonderful, warm, traditions . It's nice to see Cookie, for the first time really really excited about Christmas. While at the drug store, I noticed that they had Advent Calendars. The old school German kind, the kind I had as a kid. The kind with the really cheap chocolate. The pictures are exactly the same as when I had them too. So, of course, I had to buy one for Cookie. Every morning, since December 1st, the first words out of her mouth is, "may I please open a new door." to her calendar. Of course her excitement is for the chocolate, but watching her allows me to recall all those feelings of love and happiness that I had as a kid. I am hopeful that she, too, will look back to her childhood with the same warm feelings.

Each year, my Mom also bought each of us kids a new ornament for the tree. When I moved to Colorado, I brought all those ornaments with me. For the last four years, as I have decorated our tree, I have been able to recall little pieces of each Christmas in my childhood. So I have carried on the same tradition with my children. Starting with Cookie's first Christmas. I found silver picture frame ornaments on clearance and bought 18 of them. I think they were about $2 each. So, each Christmas I have the year engraved and put a picture of Cookie in one. I have enough to last until she reaches 18. Now I am searching the stores to buy 18 similar ornaments for Jelly Bean. My plan is to have two ornaments for each of the girls, the picture frame, and a special one that represents something that reminds me of each one for the year. This year I bought Cookie a Thomas the Train Engine ornament. Jelly got a Baby's First Christmas.

Traditions are really those comforting things we do to remind ourselves what is important. Whether it is eating dirty rice at Thanksgiving (as our friends do), watching home movies Christmas Eve, or trimming the Christmas tree with a special tree topper, traditions should give each of us the feeling of home.

Lovely Lemon Bar Cookies

2009-12-08T07:32:00.000-07:00

So I am participating in a Cookie exchange over at EvolvingMommy.com .

The good thing about this cookie exchange, is that it is only a recipe exchange, so you don't have to eat a bunch of cookies, you only have to read about all of these yummy recipes and then avoid making them. Almost impossible I know. I am already contemplating and thinking about the ones I have already read about. So here is my recipe stolen /borrowed from one of my favorite authors, Hannah Swenson. I just love those food/mystery books that provide the lovely recipes in the back of the books. If you ever want food inspiration and something nice to curl up with, I suggest either Joanna Fluke or Hannah Swenson. I made this recipe a couple years ago when I thought it was smart to avoid making anything chocolate, for fear of consuming the whole batch in just a day. I dare you to avoid eating more than one.

Lovely Lemon Bar Cookies

2 cups flour
1 cup cold butter (2 sticks)
1/2 cup of powdered sugar

4 eggs beaten
2 cups white sugar
8 tbsp lemon juice (1 cup)
1 tsp of lemon zest (optional)
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
4 tbsp flour (1/4 cup)

1. Preheat Oven to 350 rack in middle position
2. Cut each stick of butter into eight pieces. Mix with flour and the powdered sugar in a food processor until it looks like coarse cornmeal. Spread it out in a greased 9 x 13 in pan and pat it down with your hands
3. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes or until golden around the edges. Remove from oven (LEAVE OVEN ON!!)
4. Mix your eggs with white sugar. Add lemon juice (and zest if you so wish). Add salt and
baking powder and mix. Then add flour and mix thoroughly. (will be runny).
5. Pour this mixture on top of the pan you just baked and stick it back in the oven. Bake at 350
degrees for another 30-35 minutes. Then remove from oven and sprinkle on additional
powdered sugar.
6. Let it cool thoroughly and cut into brownie-sized bars.

Hope you enjoy!

http://www.spiceymom.blogspot.com/?zx=d91e29a4c2cdb95c

Picture Perfect

2009-12-06T10:22:00.000-07:00

Have you ever tried to get the perfect picture? I mean we all know that it is close to impossible at the DMV or a school picture. But is it too much to ask for one perfect picture of both my kids together? I would love love love, to have one where they are both smiling, both are in cute little outfits, and both are in the most adorable pose.

While in L.A. my sister and I got the kids together for a cousins picture. We even managed to match the kids in Christmas outfits. We made sure to feed them before said picture. So when it came time for picture time, my dear Cookie decided that she just was not going to cooperate. She would not wear that dress, she did not want to put on that shirt, and those socks were just awful. A full blown tantrum ensued. Of course my sister, whose two kids were the picture of perfect behavior (for once), was trying to rationalise with her. And any of you who have or have had a 2 year old knows that this is impossible. Needless to say, I strong armed Cookie into her matching clothes. The pictures actually turned out okay, but I really wanted one with my two girls and Cookie did not cooperate. Her blankie, better known as "Neh Neh" was pushed up to her mouth and nose in every one. I guess they were so bad that the picture lady didn't even show it to me...although I probably would have bought it.

So with the holidays looming I have been trying and failing to get a good picture of the kids together for holiday cards. Cookie has decided that she loves her Dora nightie and only wants to wear it. This obsession (maybe she gets this from her dad) is so bad that leaving the house has become a fight. Her not wanting to leave because it would mean taking off her Dora, me pulling the thing off amidst tears and screams. Now normally I would just let her wear it out, but it is ten degrees out and the nightie is thin short sleeved polyester. So every time I even mention that I would like a nice picture of her and sister in front of the tree in their Christmas outfits, tears appear.

I am wondering if I will ever get that picture. I also tried getting one with Santa....let's just say tears from both girls and no picture. I even had managed to convince Cookie to wear something different...a matching outfit with sister. So I have included the picture I managed to take of the kids together. Picture Perfect? More like Picture acceptable.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

This is the second Thanksgiving I have ever spent away from my Mom. The first was years ago, when Hubby's (then boyfriend) Mom invited me to meet them and spend Thanksgiving with them. That Thanksgiving was full of nervous anticipation. It was also a little weird.

First of all, my in-laws are not from the United States, they are Korean. So the fact that my Mother in Law cooked me a Thanksgiving meal really meant a lot. According to hubby, they never had Thanksgiving dinner. It was a little awkward, as my Korean is subpar, their English is heavily accented, and my future brother in law also brought his girlfriend (whom the parents had never met, also). There were not enough regular chairs, they had to bring out a stool from the garage and an office chair. Also of interest was the addition of Kim Chee, white rice, and pickles to the feast. It was also the first time I had ever had mashed potatoes out of a box (if you discount school lunches). So, first Thanksgiving away was weird, but I really hit it off with my future mother in law.

This Thanksgiving, hubby and I decided to stay home instead of flying to L.A. The last three years we have traveled and it was really, really stressful. The first year because of the dog. The second and third because we had Cookie. There were so many obligations to meet with family and friends that Cookie and us really were stressed. So this year, with two kids, we opted out for the Thanksgiving travel.

We invited some wonderful friends for dinner. They spent last Christmas with us, and we had a great time and so did the kids. I enjoyed being able to cook for them too. Our friends are expecting their third child and the wife had to work until 4:00. So the idea of being able to give them a break was fulfilling. Not to mention that my dinner turned out great. I like to give that credit to my Mom for showing me how it is done after all these years, yes I did learn something.

While we had the traditional Turkey, and stuffing. I strayed a little from my Mom's Thanksgiving meals. I made the Yams and Cranberry Sauce (which I forgot to put out) and I made carrots instead of green bean casserole. I also got to enjoy our friend's tradition of "dirty" rice. The kids had a great time playing, they even ate a little.

But a blog that I really did not mean to be about me turned into that. Really it is about an old friend of mine, whose Sister In Law suffered a horrendous car accident. She has four children and each day is touch and go. And as we enjoyed our Thanksgiving dinner and watched the kids play, I realized how lucky I was. My friend's family is suffering one of my worst fears. My first fear is of course losing one of my children. The second is losing my husband or dying myself and leaving my kids without a parent...or worse both of us. After having Cookie, I suffered a little post pardem, besides the slight depression I had horrible fantasies of my husband dying. These fantasies were paralyzing. I think making friends and connections in town finally brought me out of that dark place, but this one family is facing a long and dark road. So as I have been putting together Cookie's Christmas gifts, a thought occurred to me. This mother who is lying in the hospital most likely had been putting together her list for her kids. A list that will not be fulfilled. I can imagine what agony it is for that mother to think that her kids might lose her, to think that forever their Christmas's might be blighted by mommy's injury. I contacted my friend and asked if I could buy the kids some gifts so that they would not wake up Christmas morning without gifts. So that their mom can concentrate on recovery and not her children's Christmas. I know that if it was my children I would want them to have some sort of Christmas, to see Santa at work, to let them know that they are not forgotten. This year I am Thankful for our health and good fortune. I am thankful that I can afford to offer this family something. I am hopeful that mother will recover and be able to embrace her children for Christmas.

Short lived Obsession

2009-11-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

My husband is a bit fickle. That is, he's fickle when it comes to his obsessions. He has this habit of falling in love with some sport or activity to the point of obsession, but for short bursts of time. Okay, maybe a couple years is not so short a time, but it is when it means obtaining a plethora of equipment.

Of course each of his obsessions cost a heady sum. First there was paintball. When I met my husband....oh 15 years ago, he was really into paintball. Many a times we would end up at the paintball store. He talked of nothing but paintball. Obtaining the newest, coolest paintball gun.

Scuba Diving. This obsession included the wet suit (two), tanks, vest, dive computer, knife, net, spear, flippers, bag, goggles, and not to be forgotten the boat. He actually bought a boat with a friend.

Next was bowling. He spent hours upon hour at the bowling alley. Equipment tally: 5 bowling balls....plus one for me and a pair of shoes. Okay, the bowling thing was fun and it is nice to not have to borrow the yucky alley shoes and have a ball that is comfortable.

My not so favorite was RC cars. There was a constant cache of parts everywhere in our tiny 900 square foot apartment. He had to have tho cars, parts, gas, oil, parts box, folding table for the RC driving ventures. Specific comfortable clothing. Yes, the list can go on. There was constant fixing, oiling, testing, and cursing.

An attempt at snowboarding, where not only did he get a snazzy new board, boots, jacket, pants, and goggles, he bought me a board and boots. But this did not last long. First, it took forever to get to any skiing (while living in both CA. and CO.) Second, I ended up hating it. Third, I got pregnant soon after moving to Colorado and the idea of him leaving for ski trips was not popular with me.

Cycling. This sport I love. He got into shape and it gave him an outlet for some of the pent up frustrations he tends to harbor and hold inside. Bonus was that it became a way for us as a family to get out together. We were able to take Cookie in the trailer and go all around town. Cycling has morphed into a great sport, exercise, and challenge for him. He has entered and participated in two tri-athelons and now has taken up mountain biking. This venture has also allowed him to make friends and meet new people.

I have been wondering when the new obsession would come to pass, and it has happened. He has decided that he wants to go camping. While on vacation in L.A. him and a buddy went camping. So now he needs all kinds of new gear. Tent, sleeping bags (yes I said bags, as in more than one.), stove, flashlights, food, hand gel, etc. etc.

I just laugh at his many many obsessions. Because when he find a new one, he is like our two year old with a new toy. He lives, eats, and breaths it. And I must admit, while the spending of the money drives me crazy, he could be doing a whole lot worse with his time and money.

Mentor

2009-11-23T14:49:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it takes just one person to really change the course of your life. Sometimes it takes just one person to take the time to take you under their wing for you to succeed. When I first started taking classes at CSUN, I was a bit lost. I did not know how to write historically, I did not know what kind of history I really wanted to study, and I did not know how the system really worked. I was lucky though, my professors were awesome. Each taking a special interest in my studies. One professor in particular took the extra care to encourage me to apply for scholarship after scholarship, writing letters of recommendation, and I believe influencing some of the panels deciding who was awarded. Without his help, I would have struggled to pay for college. With his help, I finished, debt free.

Today, I received the History Department newsletter. It was a bittersweet read. My Master's teacher, Dr. Andrews has moved back to Colorado and is now a professor at the University of Colorado, Denver. This move thrills me, as he is now close, and maybe, just maybe, I can take one or two classes with him to meet the requirements to renew my teaching credential. Plus, he was a wonderful mentor and teacher. Bittersweet, because after being momentarily elated of this news, I read on the next page that my former professor, Dr. Gerald Prescott had died. So I am a little saddened at the loss of a great man, a great historian, and a great mentor. Because of Dr. Prescott, I learned to write, to view the history of the West differently, and I finished school. I am not sure he realized how many students he must have influenced, but I know that I was at least afforded the opportunity to tell him how great he was a few years back.

Both of these teachers are examples of what teachers should be. They remind me as to why I became a teacher, as to why I one day, would like to go back to my career. Everyone in their life should be so lucky to have had a wonderful mentor, let alone two. So in this week of Thanksgiving, I am thankful to these two men and the countless other teachers out there.

Dr. Magoo

2009-11-19T21:25:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows me, knows that I recently visited my family and friends in California. Of course it was a trip anxiously anticipated by Cookie. A visit to Nana, playing with Slugger (Nana's dog), seeing the cousins, and a visit to Sea World. Hubby loves this annual trip because he gets a break from it all. The wife, the kids, and for the most part work. He gets to hang with his best bud and detox from the craziness that is our home. I get to see my friends and family, and get a little break with some help from Mom. Or that was the plan. On this trip my poor little babies both got sick this vacation.

Normally Cookie getting sick does not cause me much concern, other than the normal feel really bad for her and horrible that I can't do much to make it go away. But with the swine flu going around I was more worried than normal. I have a firm belief that if Cookie was to get the H1N1, she would weather it just fine. It is Jelly Bean that worries me the most, being so little.
So normally I would not panic. However, things were different.

1. I was not at home, near my doctor, who knows my kids.
2. My husband was not there to keep me sane. I mean he was a phone call away and would have come if I really needed him, but not having him there at two a.m. when Cookie is crying and holding her head while Jelly Bean wakes up was stressful.
3. I had my Mom feeding the panic. In her defense the memory of a 3 day hospital stay for my brother when he was three and had the croup trumps all sense of calm.
4. I had all of these horrible visions of not being able to get home or take Cookie to Sea World like we had promised.

So, I ended up taking the kids to my Mom's doctor's office, on two different occasions. The group has two pediatricians. On the first visit, Cookie was "ill". Of course she makes a total liar out of me, her fever by ten a.m. had gone down to 100 and she was dancing and singing. The doctor she saw seemed competent enough. He reminded me of a cartoon character with a bushy moustache. For some reason I kept picturing Sylvester the Cat. He made Donald Duck sounds and bird noises. Diagnosis, Charlotte was fine, had a bug or something. His answer, give me the H1N1 vaccine so Jelly could get the immunities through me. Okay, positive note, score one more vaccine for Colorado, one less for California.

Three days later Jelly Bean came down with the bug. another sleepless night and a return to the doctor's office. This time we see the other doctor. I will refer to him as Dr. Magoo. His nurse wrote everything down on a Post It. And when Dr. Magoo deemed to lumber into the room, he really had no clue whom he was seeing. I told him Jelly Bean's symptoms, which were far worse than Cookie's were. He kept referring to her as "Baby". "Ohhh hello Baby," he addressed her and then proceeded to almost drop her! Hubby and I kept looking at each other with the questioning look, "did he just drop our baby?" We left very confused, $30 lighter, and not really sure whether or not to trust Dr. Magoo's diagnosis of, "it's not the Swine flu."

Our little trip made me really appreciate our doctor, her nurses, and her staff. Jelly is still congested and has since seen our doctor, giving me the relief I was looking for.

Arts and Crafts

2009-10-28T11:27:00.000-06:00

Today is a snow day. It is a day one really shouldn't leave the house, except to play in the snow. Since we baked Halloween cookies yesterday, carved pumpkins Monday, we created Construction paper pumpkins today.

It has finally happened, Cookie is old enough for arts and crafts. When teaching, I loved doing art with the kids. I think those organized chaos days prepared me for parenthood. One has to be willing to let the mess happen. It also helps to have all the materials for said project. On Sunday we made a little trip to Michaels. I bought pipe cleaners, pom pom balls, glue (3 kinds), construction paper, and some little projects like finger puppets and stained glass. Cookie was so excited about getting started that we made the finger puppets and the stained glass as soon as we got home. So I am glad that she likes to create.

The only down side is that I am having a hard time finding proper safety scissors. The plastic kind when I was a kid, the kind that won't even cut hair. After an Internet search I have found some, but we have to wait to get them in the mail. So, I am doing all the cutting. But I like this new phase. Now if anyone can tell me how to get Jelly Bean to enjoy being on the floor alone, or how to get her to nap w/out having to be held, (another blog perhaps) life would be perfect.

Easy Mexican Crockpot Chicken

2009-10-24T20:18:00.002-06:00

I know that there are just some days that I don't feel much like cooking dinner. There are days that we have things going on that I just won't have time to cook something fancy. So here is my quick and easy Mexican Chicken. It literally takes all of 5 minutes to put together...if not less time.

Ingredients

2 Chicken Breasts (or as many as you need for your family's needs)
1 packet of Taco Seasoning (if you make your own, 4 tbsp, or if more than 4 breasts 2 packets)
1 jar of your favorite Chunky Salsa (sized for the amount of chicken breasts you are using) I like the Safeway brand salsa, only because it has so much in it: beans,onions, and corn. Plus it is really chunky, cheaper than all of the brand names and comes in a small and large jar. I can use half a large jar for this recipe and have the rest for another date.

1. Trim fat off Chicken
2. Pour Taco Seasoning into Crockpot and roll the chicken in the seasoning to cover.
3. Pour the jar of Salsa over Chicken
4. Cook on low 6-8 hours or on high 4 hours.

Your chicken should shred easily for Tacos, Burritos, Quesidillas, Taco Salad, etc. any Mexican dish you want shredded chicken with.

Side with some Mexican Rice and Refried Beans. (Mexican Rice recipe will be provided on future date).

Voila....Fiesta

When less is not more

2009-10-23T16:21:00.000-06:00

Please note the size differences in these two T.P. rolls.

I noticed something the other day while going to the restroom. The toilet paper roll was smaller. It wasn't thinner or had less ply. The actual length of the roll was shorter. While most of us could probably due with cutting back on things like sweets and coffee or liquor, a smaller width of T.P. is not one I can readily say is a great thing.

This reduction in product while charging the same price seems to be the new M.O. of companies. First it was the ice cream, where buying a gallon was not really a full gallon but 3/4 of a gallon. I've noticed that cereal boxes have been reduced to "original" sizes, but the prices are the same current day prices. If Kellogg's or Post wanted to charge me 1955 prices, the size reduction would not bother me.

While the obesity rate in this country has reached epic and tragic proportions, I can see how companies can pretend to care by reducing their food products in order to say they care about the growing waist lines of Americans. So, if our asses are getting larger, why is our T.P. getting smaller? Less Frosted Flakes and Rocky Road I can understand, but shorter T.P? And many of these companies claim "bigger rolls." By bigger I think they mean thicker. But in reality we are not getting more, I think we are getting even less.

The only good thing about this new sized product is it rolls easier on the T.P. dispenser in our basement bathroom thanks to the poor installation by our house's previous owner. I am sure there are much more important things to obsess about, like debt and health care, but when grabbing for the T.P. in order to wipe my 2 year old's posterior, one notices these things and it does make a difference in the amount of coverage. I'm positive these toilet paper companies are rolling in new profits. One simply has to use more to get clean.

And a Carousal Ride

2009-10-18T16:15:00.000-06:00

I love fall. There is something special about this time of year. Whether it's the smell, the weather, or the two great holiday's, Autumn is awesome. Even while living in L.A. I loved this season. Halloween was always fun, but the culmination of the season with Thanksgiving has always given me a warm fuzzy feeling. Or possibly it was the cooling weather and the high winds that always made it feel different than the hellish heat during the summer months that contributed to my love of the season. Not that October or even November are that cool in Southern California, but it always felt different and wonderful.

Living in Colorado has given me the opportunity to really appreciate the seasons. The feel and smells of Fall are more intense. The trees start to turn these beautiful shades of red, orange, and yellow, then they literally litter the ground. Even with the cooling weather that sometimes brings us snow and ice, familiar winds rush over the Front Range making it feel like the Santa Ana's of my home town.

Something happens when one reaches adulthood. Holidays kinda lose their luster. No longer does one anticipate the joy of Trick or Treating or a visit from Santa Claus. So in that in between time of young adult until parenthood, holidays kinda are a nuisance. But the magic seems to come back when you become a parent. Watching your child's eyes light up as she picks a pumpkin or listening to her talk about the animals she pet at the pumpkin patch makes Halloween special again. Baking Halloween cupcakes (thanks Kelly for the Vanilla Cupcake Recipe) and cookies is a special bonding time between Mom and Daughter. Anticipation of Halloween trick or treating in a Monkey costume makes me anticipate the day just as much as Cookie does.

Of course the one thing I hate about fall is the cold snowy days pushing us indoors, when we were used to being outdoors, but something about Colorado makes this okay. Today we had clear skies and perfect 80 degree weather. It was a day to enjoy the outdoors. And so, I talked hubby into taking a bike hiatus and make a trip to Denver Zoo.

Cookie has been asking to go to the Zoo, so I thought, before the weather gets too cold, before it is too miserable to venture outside, we should go. It was the perfect day. We told Cookie we were going some where fun, but it was a surprise. By now, Cookie knows what the parking lot of the Zoo looks like. So when we pulled in, her sheer joy and excitement brought tears to my eyes. In the past she was only good for about an hour and a half before she crashed in exhaustion. Today, Cookie ran from exhibit to exhibit, walking the entire time for three hours!

It was the perfect day, ending with a train and a carousal ride. Last time we went to the Zoo, Cookie wanted to go on the carousal but got too scared when it came time to get on. This time, she had her Daddy to hold her hand, talk her through it, and she was scared and exhilarated at the same time. It probably would have been wiser for us to get prepared for winter on this warm October weekend, but giving one's child joy is much more rewarding. While Thanksgiving had been my favorite holiday, because it was the most non-religious of holidays, I think Halloween might replace it. There is just so much fun for my little girls to have. So the next time the holiday's get you down, find a carousal and take a ride. It will probably leave you with a smile.

Religion: the good, the bad, and the ugly

2009-10-09T19:59:00.000-06:00

I consider myself a modern woman. I also think I'm pretty open minded about most things. I don't care about people's sexual preferences or religious choices, as long as they don't infringe on my personal rights and freedoms. However, I do have some issues with religions that embrace some sort of double standard.

Hear me out. I actually understand some of the Islamic and Orthodox Jewish beliefs and where they come from. Being a history major, I have studied the origins of most of the major religions' beliefs. If I had taken those religions classes earlier in my college days, I may have switched my major to religious studies. As it is, I think I only need something like 9 more units for a minor in religious studies. What annoys me is those who preach one thing and then do another. Or those religious sects that have one standard for men and another for women.

Usually when I see a woman in a burka or a head scarf I generally understand the history behind the clothing. Not that I always agree with it, but I understand. When I was a teacher, I had a Muslim student who invited me to break the fast with her family at their Mosque. I had no reservations covering my head out of respect for their religion and beliefs.

But today I found myself kind of mad. I took Cookie and Jelly Bean to the mall today, as the weather was a little cold and it looked as if it might snow. I noticed a family where the woman was dressed in a prairie dress and wearing a white cap. What looked like her husband and son were dressed in modern clothes, jeans and t-shirts. I know that I really don't know their relationship to each other, but for a split second I was angry. Angry at the woman for allowing herself to be subjected to a double standard. Angry at the man for suppressing women. And then angry at myself for being so judgemental.

Of course if any of you really know me, then you know that I threw out my belief in God and religion a long time ago. In part the decision was because of my studies. I just had trouble following one religion when all of them seemed to have a similar message and purpose. I also gained an understanding of how each of them came to be. The blending of one religion into another. The bastardization of one religion in order to gain followers left a nasty taste in my mouth. And not one religion can claim they are not guilty of such acts.

If I really had to choose a religion to follow I most likely would pick Buddhism. I like the idea that life is suffering and once one understands that, then they are released from suffering. I also believe that it teaches some ethics and right action, which in a nutshell is what religion is there for anyway; to give people a path to follow. But I don't like organized religions, I don't like someone telling me how to interpret the Bible (which in my opinion is a great book full of interesting stories, but so is the Bagavad Gita). I don't like people thinking bad about others because they failed to show up for church or temple or whatever that week. To me religion is spiritual and for each person to follow as they see fit, not by some law enacted by government or a few of the religious leaders.

But, I understand why people believe what they believe, and I respect that. I know that deep down people need to believe in something greater than themselves. And maybe there is something or someone out there. And sometimes religion and beliefs are a good thing. Some people need that tie to others or the set of rules to keep them on a righteous path. Organized religion can do good. They can raise all kinds of money for all kinds of good deeds. It can provide a family to someone who has no one. And it can make people feel welcome in a new and strange place. Religion can provide peace to someone in a less than peaceful world.

I once read an editorial by a man who wished he had religion to provide him the comfort it gave his wife....but he couldn't start believing in something he was sure didn't exist. I wish I saved his article because it mirrored my feelings almost exactly. One reason I loved Job's Daughter's growing up is because I love the whole ritual of it all. Like Job's Daughters I think that Catholicism is beautiful in it's ritual also. I loved going to the Lutheran church as a teenager, not because I loved God and Jesus or even believed, but I loved the comfort of the ritual of receiving communion and the kneeling while praying as a whole congregation. I enjoyed visiting the Mosque, because like the sit, stand, kneel of the Lutheran and Catholic Church; the bowing on the knees and then standing was beautiful to watch. I felt the sense of calm come over the women as together they participated in their religious devotion. I'm interested in religions in a historical and the social sense.

So I am amazed at how one woman's dress could incite such passion and feeling in me. I realize that maybe I am still on my own spiritual journey. But one thing I am certain, you will not find me ever turning to organized religion ever again. I will not become a Christian, or a Jew, or a Buddhist. I am just too cynical and free thinking to ever follow some doctrine that tells me what is right or wrong. I know what is right and wrong. I think I will stick to the old model of do unto others.....and by the way, that saying does not exclusively belong to the followers of God and the ten commandments, the Buddhists and other religions also claim it for their own too. So live freely, believe what you believe, and do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Evil Me

2009-10-06T13:39:00.001-06:00

I think it has happened. I have turned into an evil person. I totally blame hubby for this transformation. I used to be a "glass is half full" positive outlook type of person. But over the years I have noticed that I have become more and more cynical. When I had Cookie, I so didn't want to become "that Mommy." The kind that brags about her kids left and right. The kind where she believes that her kids can do no wrong. I also didn't want to go around judging other moms. I think I have been sort of successful in this endeavor.

Here's the thing, I do talk about the girls quite often, but really I'm a stay at home mom. I have nothing else to talk about but my kids and the "cute" (at least to me) things they do. I do not so much as brag, as just talk about them. And mostly, I think I complain.....a lot. I really have become a negative person. I don't know if this is a result of living with a negative person or the result of aging. Maybe it's just in my DNA. But I do not brag, all that much...I hope.

Of course my budding negativity prevents me from thinking my kids are perfect. I will be the first to admit that Cookie can be a pill ( to say it nicely). One reason we decided to have another baby was the fact that Cookie was acting like a spoiled brat. Always expecting us to jump when she said jump. We felt she needed to learn a little patience and how to share. The fact that Cookie liked to pee on the furniture, albeit embarrassing, was not something I kept to myself. I readily admitted my kid was being a snot.

But judging other moms is where I have failed. I was once at the Zoo and was shocked when a mom pulled out a gigantic bag of Cheeetos and fed it to her one year old. I must admit, I felt slightly superior having packed Cookie a nice healthy lunch with plenty of fruit and organic, low fat snacks. I make special trips to Whole Paycheck for her "gummy snacks" because they only contain pectin and pure cane sugar instead of high fructose corn syrup. I used to make her baby food. I would even like to make my own bread...if I can actually manage it to turn out edible instead of heavy as a brick. Of course my slightly superior attitude is always kept in check by those moms who really make their own granola bars and bread (I am really quite jealous of Evolving Mommy's baking prowess and commitment to healthy eating).

Lastly I am kinda ashamed to admit it, but I did a little dance of joy in my head when that annoying ever perfect Mommy with the perfect kid, is having the less than perfect pregnancy. Not that anything is wrong with her baby, thank goodness. But she has placenta previa and frankly seems quite done with being pregnant..with about 6 weeks left to go. I even heard a complaint come from her today. She was as obnoxious as usual when announcing she had the previa and I said, "oh hopefully it will correct itself, as it did with me when I was pregnant with Jelly Bean." She said, "well, did you have a partial or a full? 'cause I have a full and it is only partially resolved, so I am sure I'm having a C-section." Even in her distress, she has to be better than me. So am I evil because I have found a small amount of joy in her discomfort and less than perfect pregnancy?

I hope that I can curb the negative attitude and avoid turning into my miserable and angry grandmother. But really, am I evil for enjoying another's distress?