Where Does the Time Go!? & Can I Buy Some Extra Patience, Please?

It's been months since I've posted.  I'm sorry to say that I've lost almost all motivation to keep blogging.  I have great Ben-tales to tell and funny observation but just when I think I'm going to sit down and write about it, I get side tracked and put it off.

Things have flown by in this house.  I'm 33 weeks pregnant and at that stage where pregnancy is definitely overrated.  My little boy will be three in exactly 1 week.  Whoever said the twos were terrible never quite made it to the almost-threes.  That's not to say my child is terrible. He's not.  He's typical and in this case, I kind of wish he was exceptional (lol!)  He's in a phase where he's exerting his inner rabble-rouser and I'm feeling very inclined to exert my inner fascist dictator.  It's not helping that this inner being inhabiting my body is also putting me through my paces (insomnia that wakes me up at 3 AM is no fun. A baby who wants to flip and dance from 4 AM - 6 AM isn't helping either.)

Of course, most of my frustrations are just compounded by pregnancy so I know that at some point things will get better and I won't keep asking myself, "When did I think staying home with a preschooler and an infant was a good idea?"  Right? Right? 

So other than the regular trappings and irritations of motherhood, I've made zero strides in getting things ready for this little one on her way.  Her nursery/storage room is still in storage mode, but I'm hoping to have a rush of nesting motivation sometime next week and some help from my mommy to get things done.  Add to that a birthday party for El Nino and the once-a-week doctors appointments, I'm not just kind of busy.  I'm really busy! 

I don't promise I'll post again before this little one arrives, but maybe I can make some New Year's Pre-Resolutions.

1. I resolve to post at least once a week on this blog, even if it's an update simply stating that I haven't flown the planet.

2. I resolve to post at least monthly about my children. I know my mom would appreciate that. I stopped the once-a-month letters when Ben was about 11 months old, and I think that was a mistake.

So until then, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to y'all!

Open Letter Friday

Letter #1
Dear Lady Who Works @ Osh Kosh,
I get it. You work retail.  You don't like it much. That's cool. I've been there.  But all I asked was whether Osh Kosh sells adjustable waist pants.  That's all.  Shrugging your shoulders and then pointing to some nebulous crowded sea of plaid and khaki was not helpful to me.  Rolling your eyes when I asked if you could show me specifically where these mystery pants might be only made me want to get stabby.  So you know what? Don't be such a douchcanoe!
Sincerely,
Mom of a Small Waisted, Conan-the-Barbarian thighed little boy

Letter #2
Dear barely post-college age women @ table in Borders Cafe:
Really? A stare down?  A pointed look at my belly and then barely whispered "Oh mah gawd!" to each other?  Well guess what, twatwaffles: I'm pregnant!  That's right. Gestating a human being. And I'm hungry and I needed a freaking latte.  Sue me.  I know the belly is big, but so is my income and my diamond, so suck it!
Sincerely,
Your Future - if you're lucky!

PS - I know I'm due for some more posts.  Life has been quite hectic with all kinds of good things.  Hopefully this weekend, I'll be able to sit down for a little marathon posting. 

Rules for Being Human

*** Title of this post is taken from a section in the book If Life is a Game, These are the Rules by Cherie Carter-Scott.  Most of this post is simply a reprint of her rules. ***

On Saturday, I attended a spiritual workshop hosted by my wonderful rabbi.  With the High Holidays rapidly approaching (as in Rosh Hashanah is in ONE WEEK! Eek!), my rabbi, with the help of some fabulous ladies, presented Day Spa for the Soul.  In her portion about teshuvah (literally meaning "to turn around" but commonly translated to mean "repent"), she began her discussion with these "rules".  I thought I'd share them with you for a little food for thought.

The Rules for Being Human

1. You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it will be yours for the entire period of this time around.

2. You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called Life. Each day in this school you will have the opportunity to learn lessons. You may like the lessons of think them irrelevant and stupid.

3. There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial and error: Experimentation. The "failed" experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiment that ultimately "works."

4. A lesson is repeated until learned. A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. When you have learned it, you can then go on to the next lesson.

5. Learning lessons does not end. There is no part of life that does not contain its lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons to be learned.

6. "There" is no better than "here". When your "there" has become a "here", you will simply obtain another "there" that will again look better than "here".

7. Others are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects something you love or hate about yourself.

8. What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need. What you do with them is up to you. The choice is yours.

9. Your answers lie inside you. The answers to Life's questions lie inside you. All you need to do is look, listen, and trust.

10. You will forget all of this.

The Best D*mn Food on the Planet

I've been thinking about food a lot lately. Let's be honest: I love to eat. A lot. One of the most awesome joys of being pregnant is usually getting to eat for two. In my case, having diabetes, kind of curbs that a little bit. It sucks sometimes, but it's only for a little while, right?

But just because I don't get to enjoy all the foods I'd like to doesn't mean I don't love to make food. I especially love making food for the Benner and my husband. Why? Well, for one, making food for Ben can be a challenge. He's a unique eater. He doesn't eat meat (which is fine. I didn't eat meat until I was about 6 or 7). He doesn't like pasta (which to me is totally, completely, and in all other ways inconceivable. Who doesn't like pasta!?! It's a food group unto itself. It's God's most wonderful antidepressant in fun wagon wheel shapes. It's...it's...it's... sometimes I wonder if Ben is really my son. Kidding, of course!) He's not a fan of hotdogs or things in nugget form, so I have to be creative. Veggies are completely off the radar for him. If it's green it's gross. So I do a lot of baking/cooking of Veggies Incognito: Zucchini Muffins, Spinach Ricotta Bits, Sweet Potato pancakes.

I love cooking for my husband because he will eating anything I make with gusto and enthusiasm! Never a critic and always appreciative. For my hubby, the best route to his heart is truly through his stomach.

So as I was cooking food for the Benner to eat for the week, I got to thinking about the one thing that I love the most. Considering that I like so many, many different foods, it was hard to pin down, but I think I've got it. Cioppino.  A luscious seafood stew in a spicy tomato broth, usually served with sourdough bread and a hearty red wine. 

The first time I had cioppino was in San Francisco in 2005.  I was still working for a high tech company and was the event coordinator for Semicon.  I had the privalege of being a) the new girl and b) a girl, so the sales guys typically invited me and my colleague out for fabulous dinners that we probably wouldn't have gone to otherwise.  So that evening, we headed to a restaurant called Moose's (sadly, it's now closed.)  Here I got quite an education.  Up until that night, I had a serious fear of all things shell fish and raw.  Little did I know I would fall in love with shrimp, cockles, mussels, lobster, crab, and tuna tartar.  Being an upscale place, the restaurant served a prix fixe (planned menu of usually three courses at a set price.)  Being the Johnnys Come Lately that we are, there was only one prix fixe left.  I was sitting next to one of my favorite sales guys, R.L., who encouraged me to order the tasting.  My mouth said, "Sounds great!"  My brain said, "Are you out of your mind!?!  It's all seafood and it's GROOOOSSSSSSS!!!!"

The menu started with tuna tartar (that's raw, people) in a chilled spring pea soup (that's cold, green mushy stuff, people).  All eyes on the New Girl and down the hatch it had to go.  The result? Fabulosity! Delicious exaltation!  I was Remy trying roasted wild mushroom with tomme de chevre de paix for the first time!  The wine didn't hurt either. 

The second course followed shortly. In front of me lay a large, shallow bowl that smelled like summer. The gentle acidity of the tomato broth, the sweet fragrance of perfectly good shrimp, cockles (Those are tiny clams. Get yo' mind outta da gutter!), tender mussels, and rich salmon.  All of this goodness served with San Francisco's claim to fame, sourdough bread.

Close friendships, good wine, and a late night all make for very friendly dinner companions.  As soon as entrees were served, our plates wound their way to each other for tastes and exclamations.  My cioppino had been sampled by just about everyone...except me.  As I saw the dish come in to home plate, my dear, darling friend, C.S., took his turn.  And then out of NOWHERE, seriously, no where, his wine glass spontaneously combusted. INTO. MY. DELICIOUS. CIOPPINO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!

The crowd hushed.  The ladies gasped.  I quietly wept for the food that would not join the party in my tummy.  The waiter came over to help with clean up, insisting that it really wasn't safe for me to eat around the glass and no, the chef did not have any more cioppino. Not even a little broth to sop up with my last remaining crust of bread.  It was a sad night (made even sadder when the waiter brought me a Cesar salad to make up for the loss of my lovely.  Seriously!?! Cesar salad?!?!  Damn Californians.)

I have had other cioppinos.  Tadich Grill is famous for theirs (it's OK.)  La Traviata did a good job considering they're about 1,800 miles from San Fran and the mother land of cioppino.  Contrary to what Donkey might think, no, parfait is not the best damn thing on the planet. Cioppino is. 

When You're a Kid

Right now, I'm listening to Ben on the monitor sing multiple variations of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (presumably to Iron Man or Blue Bear, but who knows) when he should be napping.

Nap time around here is a blessing to me! It means 1.5 hours of quiet time. I love quiet time! I love not hearing, "Mom, I want [insert demand here], NEEEOOOOOWWWWWW!" (That's how Ben says "now". It sounds just like my cat Max's meow but pronounced with an "N". It's annoying.)

Ben not wanting to nap this morning reminded me of all the things that we hated to do as kids but would love to do/have done for us as adults. So I made a list (I'm a big fan of lists).

Things You Hated Doing/Having Done For You As A Kid, But Would Love It Now As An Adult (whew! I've got to work on my headline skills.)

1. Taking a nap --- Naps were torture as a kid. What a lame, boring way to spend an hour when you could be doing way more fun things like playing pretend, or Freeze Tag, or twirling in circles. As an adult, naps are the pinnacle of luxury, especially if you're working. In fact, there are some places where you can pay to take a nap!

2. Having someone cook delicious, healthy meals for you --- Veggies? Whole grains? Blech! As a kid you probably wanted a handful of McNuggets washed down with a shake. (Unless you're my kid and then you skip the "chicken" all together and ask for raspberries.) Your mom wouldn't let you "help" make dinner because you were "too little". As an adult, I would give anything to have someone come to my house, prepare a delicious, flavorful, healthy meal (and clean up!).

3. Riding in the stroller --- I still remember hating being pushed in a stroller when we went to the mall or on an outing. I could never see things higher than about adult knee height. I was riding in a sea of thighs and butts. It was not pleasant. As an adult, I hate going out to places where there are crowds, but I would hate it less if I was the one being pushed in the stroller. Especially in today's state-of-the-art prams. Reclining seat backs, sun-shielding canopies, snack trays!

4. Baths --- Ben doesn't have a typically difficult time taking a bath unless he's overtired and then it's like trying to get a cat to take a shower (legs and arms sticking out in all directions!). Most kids I've met or have known in the past seem too content to allow muck and dirt accumulate to an impossibly gross level. As an adult, with a toddler, personal cleaning time is at a premium. I usually try to shower before I get Ben out of bed. If I wake up late, I usually have to get in a shower when he's sitting in the high chair, dazed into some "Little Bear" on TV. Taking a 7-minute business rinse down is no substitute for a long, luxurious soak in a big garden tub with scented bubbles, watching Hulu on your laptop (not in the water. To the side of it on my Elfa towel stand).

In exactly 15 days, 20 hours, and 19 minutes, Ben will be starting preschool. I fully intended to take a luxurious bath, a long restful nap, and if I can swing it, get someone to push me in a stroller to a lovely restaurant to eat a nutritious, healthy meal!

Discipline and The Two Year Old

Hey now. What's that sound I'm hearing?  Oh yes.  The hysterical laughter of more seasoned parents (aka grandparents. Aka MY parents) at the mere notion of disciplining a two year old.  You just can't.  Well, you can, but there are few techniques that are a) successful all the time and b) don't involve Great Dane sized crates and clicker training.

Ben is not a listener.  Let me clarify. Ben does not listen to me. He listens to his father. He listens to his teachers. He listens to strangers.  The woman who carried him in her womb, suffered through sleepless nights, endured a 16 hour labor followed by a much-desired c-section?  That woman?  He doesn't listen to her.

When Ben doesn't listen to me, I would say that 96% of the time I roll my eyes, redirect, and move on. Redirect basically means that I physically move him from what ever it is that I don't want him to do and then do that thing that I wanted him to do, myself.

But then there are days like today.  Over and over he pushes my buttons and when I have finally had enough, I turn kind of turn into this girl:



Does this phase him at all? No. In fact a lot of times he just looks at me and then looks at his imaginary buddies with this look on his face that kind of translates to, "Dude. Are you watching this? My mom is CRAZY." And then the little booger just keeps doing whatever it was he was doing earlier that caused me to turn into crazy-angry-brush-wielding girl.

Usually at this point, it's a good moment to take a time out. Both me and Ben. Time outs seem to be the only thing that get him motivated to stop being a toddler and behave like the respectable adult I expect him to be!!! (note: I'm fully aware of my unrealistic expectations. I was being ironical.)  So Brush Girl picks up Monster Ben, sets him in the crib which usually turns him into this guy:

A nice glass of wine (before I got pregnant) or no-sugar added pudding cup (how sad) for me and ten minutes in the crib for Ben and all seems to be right with the world.  We hug and make up. I tell him to stop pushing my buttons and he says, "I stop. I promise, Mom."  Followed by this cutest cheese grin in the world.  *sigh* I just can't stay upset with this stinker! (Until next time, anyway.)

Hey Good Lookin'! Whatcha Got Cookin'?

A few weeks ago I got a call from the perinatologist's office that my OB scheduled me for a "consultation and ultrasound, as soon as possible."  Eek!  I don't think it's a secret that I'm a tad prone to anxiety and the ever present over-active imagination. So when a medical office uses the words "as soon as possible", but mind goes into overdrive and I start to freak out just a little bit.

Being high risk (I'm a sugar mama), I shouldn't have been too surprised that I needed to see the peri (which rhymes with Berry, as in Dr., to whom I was referred by Cherry, as in my OB. That's right, Dr. Cherry sent me to Dr. Berry, the Peri.  You can't make this stuff up folks!)  The appointment went very well and I got a little treat: to see our bun in action. 

 

Sometimes You Just Need a Cookie

So this afternoon, I thought it might be fun to make cookies WITH my two and a half year old (who, by the way, is yelling foreign language obscenities at the cats who are quietly sitting on the SAFE side of the baby gate. *sigh*)

Well the "baking with" concept was a little lost on my Benner because it mostly involved him yelling at me and demanding to "eat cookies, NOW, mommy!!!" So twenty very loud minutes later, cookies were mixed, baked, and cooling. Then I fed the beast and the beast was pleased. I thought I'd share the recipe for the easiest cookies in the world.

Easiest Tastiest Cake Cookies

1 boxed cake mix (any flavor)
2 eggs
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Mix cake mix, eggs, and butter for 1 min. on low with electric mixer.
3. Scrape edges of bowl and mix for 1 min. more. Batter will be THICK.
4. Stir in add-ins of choice.5. Drop teaspoon sized dollops onto ungreased cookie sheets.
6. Bake for 10-15 minutes on middle rack of oven.
7. Allow to cool for 10 minutes on cookie sheets before transferring to cooling rack.

Add-ins:

For Oatmeal Raisin, add 5oz raisins and 2 cups oatmeal
For Chocolate Chip, add 1 cup semi-sweet chips
For Spiced Nut cookies, use Spice Cake mix and add 1 cup chopped nuts (walnuts, pecans, almonds, etc.)

Or add whatever sounds tasty to you!

And voila!

So Much to Report, So Little Text Space

When did it get to be August? Every year that I get older, time just moves faster and faster. Where to start with any update?

Well, if you haven't already guessed by now, I'm preggers. I can't remember if I already posted to that fact (and I'm too lazy to read through all, like, six posts), but there you have it. Pregnant. Knocked up. With child. Expecting. All is well in that department (though Ben is hoping that we're going to be having a puppy and not a human baby. Sorry! Birthing puppies only seems to be something that happens in my dreams.)

Everyday, I get a little more comfortable with the stay-at-home-mom gig. That was until this month when Ben's preschool decided to take off the entire month! As if teachers really need a vacation! Come on! Okay, just kidding. But when it's averaging 104 degrees in the shade and your child sort of acts like this guy a lot of the time, it gets a bit daunting trying to find activities that we'll both enjoy.

Oh August...soul sucking, oppressive, slow moving August. Beyond the pool and late afternoon naps, I can't think of anything you're good for. I lament its heat, but really, in Texas the weather doesn't even begin to hint at bearable until about October.

Honestly, I feel like I'm actively waiting until Ben starts school again and I can get back to my daily schedule: pretty much what I do now (read, answer e-mails, clean the house, go to the grocery store) except I'll be by myself.

Anyway, I don't know where this blog is going. I'm not a good daily blogger. I don't know what y'all want to know about. If you have any thoughts on what I can write to you about, let me know. Until then I'm going to sit here with my 15-week-belly-looking-like-seven-months, and sip my iced tea, waiting for a little blog love.

Is it so wrong?

Babies are wonderful. Babies are special. Babies are sweet (as well as burpy, smelly, poopy, cry-y, and needy. But these things are always worth the trouble/annoyance/stress!)

A lot of moms I've gotten to know since quitting my job to stay home with Ben are starting on their #2s and #3s (or more). Some babies are already here and some babies are still on their way. Needless to say, I've got more than my fair share of opportunities to meet some of these new little people. The chance to congratulate their moms and dads on their new arrival. The chance to make give obligatory platitudes like, "You'll be a great big brother/sister!" to less-than-thrilled toddlers and preschoolers (It's so funny to meet some of these only-children-turned-first-borns. They have this look on their face that says, "WTF!? Seriously!? Who ordered this...this...well whatever it is?? MOM!!! This will not do. No ma'am. Take it back. NOW!")

I'm truly happy for my friends and their families. But why is it that I'm not jumping to the front of the line to hold and cuddle one of these sweet little pooper pies? I see a baby coming my way and takes just about every ounce of self-control I have not to do a 180 and keep walking in the opposite direction.

I won't deny that I've used my own child as a baby-shield. In fact, not that long ago, at a very eye-opening occasion which included the supervision of a 5 month old, a 3 year old, and an almost-2-year-old, I literally grabbed my two year old in an effort to stop my poor husband from handing me a crying, hysterical 5 month old. The look on my face probably read something like, "No way, buster! Got my hands full already. That drool elf is all yours."

I like babies. I do. If I play my cards right, we'll have another one in this house before long. But I think what I really mean is that I like MY babies. Other babies are fine. They're nice, but they're not mine. They're not a part of me. I don't get other babies. I sometimes don't even get my own, but he's mine. Is it so wrong that I'm not chomping at the bit to love yours? Frankly, I think it's healthy. And will definitely keep us down to a foursome instead of a Duggar-style clan.

You Can Ask, but I Won't Tell (But I Want To!)

It never ceases to amaze me how the pirahna called "Life" is more than happy to jump out of its brackish river water and bite you square on the ass.

OK. It's not as bad as all that. In fact, the recent new developments around this Queen's household are a good thing. An expected thing, one might say. The chance to embark on another journey with a bag full of experience and the hope that this time things can be easier, a little more relaxed.

Sadly, it's possibly imprudent to be explicit about the changes at hand (and I made my husband promise not to share anything with anyone until I said it was OK to.)

But the problem right now is that I'm a big mouth. A horrible, terrible big mouth! I love to tell secrets. I have a merit badge in "Bean Spilling." I just can't keep anything to myself. In fact, I've been known to warn friends that if they wish to leave me with a secret they must ensure that I do not tell anyone the news for 24 hours straight. Once they 24th hour mark has past, I will take that secret to the grave (and that's only because I've forgotten the secret.)

I can't forget this one, though! So... I will not deny anything guessed and in a few weeks, I'll spill the beans publicly (regardless of the outcome.) I can't imagine anyone reading this blog hasn't figured out where I was going with this, but if you guess, then I can safely say I never said a word.

Just Don't Call Chuck Norris "Sugar"

I know this is a cop out post and some day I'll get back to posting. I've been going through my annual Diabetes-Sucks-and-People-Who-Can-Eat-Ice-Cream-Without-the-Sugar-Coma-Can-Bite-Me funk. This list just about made me pee my pants! Funk over. (Thanks, Six Until Me!)

What's for Dinner? Chicken Noodle Casserole

I'm not a food blogger, but I love food blogs. I really love to read about recipes and cooking. I'm especially impressed by food photography (Side note: Several weeks ago, I was working the shop and I brought along the "100" issue of Saveur magazine. The photography was was beautiful and so scrumptious looking that I felt like I could lick the pages and taste the dishes. Obviously, no such luck, but I did end up at Central Market right after my shift to buy ingredients to make Tomato Bread Salad with herbed roule. Yum!)

I'm a big fan of casseroles, a much maligned food category, in my opinion. When you're in a rush and you're trying to think of something delicious and satisfying to feed your family, a casserole always seems to hit the spot. I sometimes imagine that if the Midwest had an official regional food, it would be The Casserole. Being a lover of chicken noodle soup, but wanting something more substantial, I decided to improvise and create the Chicken Noodle Casserole. (Recipe below.)

Queen Sassy Pant's More Than Delicious Chicken Noodle Casserole

Ingredients:

1 Rotisserie chicken, meat pulled from bone and cubed (or if you prefer, about a pound of chicken breast, cooked and cubed)
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
1 cup diced carrots
1 cup diced celery
1 cup diced white or yellow (non-sweet) onion
1 pound linguini, broken in half, cooked just shy of al dente (any short pasta will suffice, really)
1.5 cups of milk (I used 2%. If you want a saucier casserole, you may need as much as 2 cups)
1 can of Cream of Chicken soup, though Cream of Celery or Cream of Mushroom would be just as delicious
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 375. Spray a casserole dish (in this case, a 5-qt Le Creuset French oven) with non-stick spray and add noddles. Set aside.

2. In a skillet or non-stick pan, over medium-low heat, sweat the vegetables until soft. You don't want them to brown, but rather slowly release their flavor. This takes about 10-12 minutes.

3. In a medium sized sauce pan, combine milk, soup, and 2 T of Parmesan. Allow to thicken slightly.

4. Combined chicken, skillet vegetables, peas, and sauce. Pour over noodles in the casserole dish and carefully stir to incorporate. Top with remaining Parmesan cheese.

5. Bake at 375 for about 40 minutes or until bubbly. For a brown top, pop under the broiler for about 10 minutes. Enjoy!

Insomnia and Recovery

On Friday, I got to ditch that nasty ol' gallbladder and since then have been having a bugger of a time sleeping. I think the real trouble is that I sleep so much during the day that I'm awake at night and can't quite get back on track.

There are some considerable holes in my blog right now. Between my trip to the ER last week and then the eviction of my icky gallbladder...well, there isn't much to tell. I'm hoping to start a short series soon on living simply. It's a recession; people are downsizing. I thought I'd put my two cents out there on how I'm going to do my part in being the family-finance manager. Stay tuned.

Now if only I could get some shut-eye...

What a week!

Well, the last couple of weeks have been pretty nutty around here. Mostly in a good way (at least until Thursday, when a certain bodily organ who shall remain nameless decided to be a total butthole! But more on that in a minute.)

So quick re-cap:

1. I finished up Cake Decorating 101 and totally loved it! My final cake was just delightful and so pretty. I didn't quite master the Wilton Rose technique, but I think with practice and the right icing, I should be cranking out a thousand in now time! (Oh who am I kidding?! They make bakeries for those kinds of things, don't they?)

2. Though I finished up Cake Decorating class with flying colors, I missed Week 3 so I could attend an informational session of a very well know and somewhat misunderstood woman's volunteer organization. I found out they are much more than just white glove tea parties and cotillions! Being someone who can't say no, of course I signed on the dotted line. So that's now two highly involved organizations that demand oodles of time that I'm adding to the activities list. I'm really excited!

3. I had a job interview, was offered the position, and then turned it down all in one day. I know, I know... in this economy with so many people out of work, what kind of idiot turns down a job? The kind that would have been miserable doing the work. It was totally up my skill set alley, but I'm discovering there is a lot more to working than just getting a pay check. I want to enjoy my work and feel like I'm doing something worthwhile, and for me, this job just wasn't it.

4. And finally, my gall bladder is a total butt hole. Okay, not literary (ehhh...now I've got a mental image going on here. Give me a sec...) On Thursday, after a very delicious but small bowl of mac 'n cheese, I ended up doubled over in the most horrible pain of my life. And I've had a baby! Gone through 5 IV starts, 2 epidurals, 1 c-section (and a partridge in a pear tree!) This pain was more horrible than that times 1000. I was lucky that King Sassy Pants was working from home that day and was able to cart me to the ER (with Prince Sassy in tow). One dose of Zofran, a shot of morphine, and an ultrasound later --- well, let's just say in my gall bladder are what look like Cadbury chocolate mini eggs (Ha! Bet you're not going to eat any of those this Easter!) So, the gall bladder is taking a hike next Friday. Ahhh, yes, outpatient surgery. It's exactly how I love spending Valentine's weekend.

So that's the wrap up so far. I'm just hunkering down for the next week, on my low/no-fat diet so as not to anger the evil Gall. Why is everything that is so delicious also about the most fattening thing on earth!?

Craftacular: Ribbon Tag Blankies

Seems like I'm a roll with finding household appliances that have been safely forgotten about and then digging them out and going on a home ec bender. Not long ago, I dug out my old sewing machine. My mom, a very talented seamstress, gave me the machine when I moved into my first apartment (oh, about a million years ago!) I managed to make one set of hideous curtains and then my sewing machine found its way into a craft-esque oubliette.

After staring at the machine and reading the 17 page manual for the zillionth time (I was really hung up about winding a bobbin. Traumatic bobbin incident back in '02), I thought it was about time to get this party started.

I have a almost 4-month old niece (Claire) and a 6-month old nephew (Henry). For Hanukkah, I gave each of them one of these Taggie brand Take-a-Long toys. They were such a hit, I told my sister-in-law, that I'd be happy to make a blankie version for Claire Bear. Well, I can't just make one for her and not for Henry, so last night I whipped out these cuties in no time. Easy, inexpensive (material for 4 of these blankies costs about $13. ONE store bought Taggie is $20.00. Yikes!)

They're folded just for easy of photo taking, but the blue one (for Henry) is about 15" x 17" and the green one (for Claire) is 18" x 18".

Fancy Mac 'n Cheese

Oops! It's been a whole week without a post. I guess that's what happens when you rocket off into a huge start. It's easy to come up short some weeks.

No worries, I'm back and tonight I'm cooking up Pioneer Woman's Fancy Macaroni. There is zero anything diet about it. I figure pairing it with a nice spinach and strawberry salad would help cancel out some of the zillion calories caused be the THREE cheeses...and bacon...and butter. Eek!

Last week was kind of busy for me with some really neat opportunities ahead. I'll be sure to post about them later this week as developments evolve.

A+ Homework!

Last night, I finished my first Class Cake. Besides the Electric Lemon yellow base icing, I have to give myself a pat on the back. It's not a bad cake, eh? The text says "Happy Birthday 2 Me!" since tomorrow is my birthday and I can't let good cake go to waste.

Wilton Class, Level 1, Session 2

Okay, so at Cake Decorating School, students have homework. You have to bring a cake (or if you don't want to bring a cake, you can buy a cake, use a styrofoam dummy cake, or the back of a cake pan covered with wax paper. However, I think all of these options are cheating and kind of missing the whole fun of being in a cake decorating class: you get to eat cake!) that's been iced.



Just for a second, please disregard the blinding shade of "Big Bird" yellow and focus on the lovely smoothness of the buttercream. Buttercream icing is actually tricky to smooth just using an icing spreader. It tends to go on like spackle and can look a lot like a poorly textured bathroom wall instead of a yummy, pretty cake. There is a trick to getting the texture of the icing smooth and pretty and it involves using a paper towel. Once the icing has formed a crust (when touched lightly the icing won't pull away from the cake and end up on your finger), you lay a non-textured paper towel (like Viva) over the cake and gentle rub the surface with a light touch. Or you can use a fondant smoother. However, I don't have one of these gadgets, so I had to improvise.


Yep, that is a jar of hair styling product that I used just this morning. However, it has a very smooth lid and when used in the whole smoothing-the-buttercream paper towel trick, well, it's quite handy. I think Alton Brown would be quite pleased that I didn't purchase a fondant smoother, being that it is a unitasker and all. So now my homework is ready to decorate, complete with a fancy white icing star border to hide the crap that covers the cardboard round. I'll post tomorrow with the results of Lesson 2: Decorating a Cake With So Much Icing That Just Looking at it Will Send You Into a Diabetic Coma.

Barney Stinson: The Musical!

At the Sassy Pants home, we're late-comers to the comedic genius of "How I Met Your Mother". I'm a 100%, full-on Neil Patrick Harris fan. From "Doogie Houser, MD" to Sesame Street as the "Fairy Shoe Person" to himself in "Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle", I totally pink-puffy-heart NPH! But nothing, and I mean nothing, tops his performance as Barney Stinson. (I sometimes think HIMYM should be renamed "The Barney Stinson Show: With Robin, Who's Hot, Lily, Who's Also Hot, Marshall, Who is Adorable, and Ted." Even though, HIMYM is all about Ted and how he met his kids' mother, I sometimes yell at the TV, "More Stinson! Less Mosby!" But I digress.)

The other thing that I pink-puffy-heart is musical theater. I credit my sister with introducing me to the genre when she went through a phase back in high school. I can't imagine a more perfect story-telling style.

Knowing the above, what do you think happened to me when HIMYM combined Barney Stinson and the American musical? It might have looked something like this.

So in case you missed it --- HIMYM 100th Episode "Girls vs. Suits" Musical Number

Like a Champ

I frequent a message board for married woman that was a spin off from a message board for newly engaged women planning their weddings. On the boards, I see a lot of posts about pregnancy: who's pregnant, who's trying to get pregnant, who just had her baby, etc. They're pretty uninteresting to me for the most part, but that is probably because I have a kiddo and not intending on having another one soon. I read these posts and sometimes I think, "Meh. Big deal. So you had sex. Got knocked up and gave birth. Me too. But can you walk backwards on a tight rope while juggling three blazing batons and singing the National Anthem in Pig Latin? Now that's real talent."

Of course, I do understand that a lot of the PG posts ("pregnant" not "parental guidance". Hee hee! Pun intended.) are about woman who struggled to become or stay pregnant and they're celebrating or looking for support when things go badly. I'm totally with that.

But it all gets kind of weird to me when a mom on the board will announce that another mom had her baby (that's not actually the weird part) and run down the stats. It looks something like this:

MrsMamaJama: TwinkleToes339 had her baby! Baby Madison Feathers TwinkleToes339 is a beauty. 8 pounds, 20" long and breast feeding like a champ. All is well with mama and baby.

Okay, so can you guess which is the weird part to me? And it's not that TwinkleToes339 is breastfeeding (though, when did announcing that you're breastfeeding become a required part of motherhood is beyond me.) That's cool. That's recommended. Brava. It's the "like a champ" part that makes me go "Whaaa?" I don't really get it. I mean, I do get it, but aren't there better phrases?

"Champ" always makes me thing of Mohamed Ali. "Breastfeeding like a champ" makes me think of a breastfeeding Mohamed Ali. And not baby Mohamed Ali. Full-on, heavy weight champion of the Wide World of Breastfeeding:

Michael Buffer (famous boxing announcer): "In this corner, stands our defender, coming in at 10 pounds, 11 ounces, champion heavy weight nurser, Mohamed Ali! Now let's get ready to ssssssuuuuuccccckkkkkllllleeeee!"

Think about that next time someone says their child is breastfeeding like a champ. And maybe ask to see their kid's title belt.

Voila!

I'm finished! This cake took six hours, three cake mishaps, three batches of butter cream icing, and two scrape offs, but it's done. I'm so proud! Well, it didn't quite turn out to be exactly what I was going for, but for a first attempt, I'd say it ain't too bad. I think my customer will be quite pleased (he seemed to be as he kept yelling, "Cake! Cake! Mah Cake! Cake Peas, Mah Cake!")

Learning Curve

I've been baking for the past two hours and after two two-layer cake attempts I have exactly one layer. What is happening?! This shouldn't be that hard. I mean, come on!

I know, I know. Sounds like a repeat of the Hard Boiled Egg incident (remind me tell you that one). Three of my four layers broke because I was a little too excited and tried to turn them on to the cooling rack a little to early. Lessons learned? You bet!

1. Sift. Sift the flour. Sift the powdered sugar. Sift. Sift. Sift. I have so many tiny lumps in my first batch of "buttercream" icing.
   
2. "Buttercream" icing as made by Wilton actually has no butter in it.
3. "If there is no butter, than how is it butter cream?" Well, my friend, let me tell you: Crisco and "butter flavoring."
4. When the recipes says "Wait 10 minutes before turning cake onto cooling wrack," do as they say! They mean it or else your husband will be scraping cake bits from the pan and asking you if there was supposed to be this much cake left behind ("No honey. Not really.")
   
5. Don't wait until the night before your son's 2nd birthday party to decide you're going to make a layer cake from scratch with homemade icing and hand decorated.
   
6. If you do wait until the night before, don't wait until 9 PM to get started knowing that you've never done this before and there is a high potential for cake disasters.

Onward bakers! Two more layers to go and let's up I don't crack these, too (or I'm going to be cracked!)

Hello Gorgeous!

Look who just came out of the "gift" closet? After being shamed by my decorating class last night that I was letting a very coveted and awesome machine go to waste, I made Andrew pry her out of the bowels of the gift closet (Don't worry, Dad. She was never going to be regifted. I promise!).

Tonight I'm making cupcakes for Ben's birthday party tomorrow and possible a layer cake just so I can practice some frosting and decorating techniques. So the mixer, aka "Momma's Other Best Friend" is going on her maiden voyage tonight. I was showing Ben why this is mommy's favorite new toy in the house. His response? "Cake! Cake! Peas, momma, cake?" Guess I better get baking!

Give Away!

Ok, I'm not really giving anything away, but I see this a lot on blogs lately. I wonder how many of the prizes are things that the giver just didn't know what to do with. Maybe it was a BOGO that someone got for the "Buy One" but wasn't really too into the "Get One". Or maybe it was a WowWee Singing Elvis Head that her husband won and she was all, "Oh. Mah. Gawd! You can not keep that THING in MY house! I just know that it's going to come to life and kill me with its robotic mouth!"

I wonder how many of the prizes are from someone's "gift" closet. You know what I'm talking about. You totally have one. Don't try to deny it. It's where the fondue set and crystal ashtray you got as wedding presents are kept in the event that a) you meet someone who really, really, really wants a fondue set or a crystal ashtray or b) the person who gave those gifts to you just happens to drop by and you hastily set them out on the coffee table and rave about how much you love to throw smokers-only fondue parties.

I've contemplated having a give away on my blog but I feel like it would just be pandering to my readership, and I'm pretty sure that 80% of my readers would know that the give away prize was in my "gift" closet and was something they probably gave me. Though if I come across another singing robotic bust of a dead rock star, I might have a give away after all.

So Much Cake!

So yesterday I decided that I needed to do something fun. Not that the multitude of things that I do daily aren't fun, it's just that, well, they're not that fun. Anyway, I was at JoANN Fabrics looking at stuff (mostly for a laminating machine and then I found one and it was really too expensive and I thought, "Meh. I've got some clear packing tape. That should do the trick.") and noticed that the *Wilton Cake Decorating Class I was starting tonight.

I headed up to the store and was so excited to start my first class. There are four of us. One student is a baker with a great cupcake store where she does nothing but decorate a bazillion cupcakes a day. The other two students are a mother-daughter team where the daughter became totally inspired and actually learned something on the so-called Learning Channel by watching this guy. And then there was me. Front of the class-too-many-questions-boring-everyone-with-her-know-it-all-attitude Me.

It was so much fun! Today was learning how to level a cake, tort fill (where you use a bead of frosting around the cake perimeter as a little wall to keep all the delicious filling from oozing down the sides of the cake), and frost the cake. Next week we'll have to bring in our own cakes to decorate and this will continue for the next three weeks. So three more weeks with three cakes. I'm sensing a need to buy bigger pants.

*I'll try to remember to take photos of my work.

Fifty Books in 2010

I've committed myself to reading fifty book in 2010. I'm going to try to list them on the side bar as I complete the books. I was determined to choose books that were meaningful and could be described truly as literature but when I discovered that most of those kinds of books were about the length of a Bible (and God knows I haven't read one of those in...well, ever, actually), I decided to go a different route.

Rather than just reading fifty books of questionable quality, I decided that every book that I read to count towards my 50/2010 challenge must a) come from the library and b) written for adults (so that pretty much leaves out any of that vampire teen-angst nonsense and the revival of the Babysitters Club series.)

Please do leave your suggestions of what to read in the comment box, because no doubt I'll be tempted to just blow through all of John Grisham's books or vintage BSC.

What's the Haps? (Part 1)

So before I did a drive-by post about death and loss, there wasn't a whole lot to really tell about life going on in the ATX. That's not totally true and I'm sure if I tried really hard, I could pull out some interesting tidbits to share. So working from July 2009 until now, here's how I think everything was going down.

July 2009 -

• Ben turned 18 months on the 28th. He had been walking for about 4 months and was getting really good at it. I mean really good. And fast! Why is it that all toddlers are born with some Houdini-like disappearing ability? I needed some kind of sixth sense and super agility training just to make sure he wasn't dashing into six lanes of raging traffic or the open jaws of a rabid Rottweiler.

• Ben started to use his words. Lots of words. This was such an exciting milestone for me! I was really becoming tired of the grunting and pointing and throwing things because of his terrible frustration that I just wasn't getting it and, "WOMAN, ARE YOU DEAF OR JUST FROM ANOTHER COUNTRY WHICH WOULD EXPLAIN WHY YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND ME!?!?!" Except...the words he was speaking with this new confidence sounding exactly like the words I was speaking - only to him. I was still just a dumb, deaf, foreigner and we were back to grunts, points, and throwing.
  

• My husband turned 32 on July 31st. He's old. I remind him daily.

August 2009 -

• Ben turned 19 months on August 28th. He was still grunting and pointing. I was beginning to decipher his words a little it better and then one day, like magic, he said, "Mommy, may I have a sippy cup with milk, please, if you would be so kind." I couldn't believe it! Not only was my child speaking in full, comprehensible sentences, he had also developed an English accent and sounded, quite surprisingly, like Colin Firth (okay, not really. That was a dream I had one night and yes, I, too, am creeped out that a grown man, nearing 50, would call a strange woman "Mommy.")

• Ben started a twice-a-week Mother's Day Out program. I'm only mildly embarrassed to admit that Tuesdays and Thursdays can't get here fast enough sometimes.
  

Stay tuned for "What's the Haps? (Part 1) - September & October or How I've Learned To Accept That Sometimes All The Love a Toddler Can Give Is The Swift Pitch of A Block To Your Head"

Buyer's Remorse Already!?

I am a finicky girl! I'm already feeling like my move to Bloggerville was a big mistake. Sure, the decor is far better than Wordpress but maybe I'm taking a step down instead of up in the world of blog sophistication?

Does it even matter? I should be hearing a resounding, "NO!" and "You have got to get more of a life, lady!" *sigh* I know.

I'm so tempted to fill up this naked front page with five more posts just so it doesn't feel so empty and have that just-moved-in look. I know I have so much to tell you. I mean I hadn't posted in months on AoSML only to drop in two posts of questionable quality (one being a total downer and the other being kind of...well, blah.)

I guess since it isn't quite my witching hour yet and I haven't really got the patience for any scrapbooking activities (now there's a time suck-money eater is there ever was one!), I guess I could fill you in one life around the A-town for the last few months.

A New Year - A New Home

On the interwebz, that is. Welcome to the new home of what was formerly "Adventures of Sadie, Married Lady." I've decided to make a little change up as well as get a new, cutesy face lift and hang out over here at Blogger. You'll still be able to read the archives over at AoSML, but I won't be posting anything new (however, I can't imagine deleting it and if I could find a convenient way to do a Wordpress-to-Blogger export, I would. But alas, I can't. So there.)

I promise to be as infrequent a poster as I was at AoSML, just with a sillier look and name. See you soon!