Clearly this is not the outfit a Fashion Baby would wear; this is more of a WyoBaby getup. So's this one:
I am totally okay with this; WyoMomma is more my style.
Happy Saturday!
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Update!
This is why I am now changing my handle to WyoMomma:
Clearly this is not the outfit a Fashion Baby would wear; this is more of a WyoBaby getup. So's this one:
I am totally okay with this; WyoMomma is more my style.
Happy Saturday!
Clearly this is not the outfit a Fashion Baby would wear; this is more of a WyoBaby getup. So's this one:
I am totally okay with this; WyoMomma is more my style.
Happy Saturday!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Welcome to My Zoo
How to care for your new Sea Monkeys: Find a plastic container (I like to use Tupperware), add water and Sea Monkey Water Conditioner. Let rest 24 hours. Open Sea Monkey Eggs package, dump contents into water. Replace lid on plastic container, put in a north-facing window. Now, here's the important part - walk away. Make the welfare of your Sea Monkeys the farthest thought from your mind. Ignore them for a good two weeks. Wait until your Fashion Baby decides she's ready to admit her Sea Monkeys are dead. As you're cleaning your kitchen the next day, take plastic container out of window, remove lid and prepare to dump Sea Monkey carcasses down the sink. Hesitate for a moment when you think you might have just seen the slightest movement in the water. Upon closer inspection, realize the Sea Monkeys are not only alive, but thriving! To no one in particular yell out, "I'll be danged!! The things are alive!!!" Realize you're talking to yourself again, and decide to blawg about it instead.
Welcome to an average day in Fashion Momma's Zoo. In the course of my day, I make sure two cats have food and water and scoop their box. In a show of appreciation for the latter chore, they hop in a nano-second after I'm done, scratch, squat and bury. After all, you can't let a clean litter box go to waste!! When I change the litter, I can feel two pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head, waiting for the moment they can leap into the clean litter. I'm convinced they will hold it, no matter how badly they need to go, if they know there's a chance clean litter is in their future.
I also check on Bob the Frog, who is probably the most low-maintenance pet a person could have. Bob is a man a few words, unless it's 5 a.m. on a Spring morning. When Spring rolls around, Bob starts calling for the female frogs in the neighborhood. Bob fancies himself a ladies' man, and I just don't have the heart to break it to him that he will never see a lady frog again. But other than his early morning ribbits and croaks, we don't hear a peep out of him. Unless he forgets there's a mesh cover over his tank and goes for a flying leap across his 'pond', aka tank. Fashion Baby captured Bob last summer at a local pond, and it's taken him awhile to realize he can no longer go for his personal best in the long jump. When he tries, he hits the mesh cover so hard it makes a fantastic bang, which has caused this Momma to leap out of her skin in the wee hours of the night. And yes, a part of me feels bad about the fact that Bob's habitat is now one-eighth the size it used to be. So please, don't give me grief over Bob. Fashion Baby loves him, and he's well cared for. He's fed live crickets on a regular basis, because Bob refuses to eat his food if it isn't still moving when he swallows it.
At one point in time, we also had an African Tree Frog, Sandy. Fashion Baby determined on her own that Sandy was female, and no amount of questioning would change her mind. The problem with Sandy was she needed more of a rainforest environment, and we don't have many of those in these parts. So, when the temp dropped below 50, Sandy hopped her way to the Great Rainforest in the Sky. We left her in the tank a bit longer than we should have, and then one day, when my baby had a small boy over for a play date, the two of them decided to perform an autopsy on one Sandy the Tree Frog, deceased. They documented their findings, even diagrammed her teeny skeleton, and gave a full report. Cause of death was undetermined, but they were able to rule out foul play. When the small boy's mother found out they'd been handling the carcass, she kinda freaked a tiny bit, something about it being unsanitary...But I made sure they scrubbed all the way up to their elbows when they were done, and then the bones were tossed.
Fashion Baby tends to handle the loss of pets fairly well. Before either of the cats came onto the scene, she was the proud owner of Pebbles the Hamster. While the rodent was rather cute, I loathed the job of cleaning its cage. Loathed it, people! I'd rather scrub toilets with a toothbrush than clean a hamster cage, but I did it. Regularly. Because my baby loved her hamster. But one day, Fate smiled on me, and when I went to feed Pebbles, I discovered she would no longer require food or water. I dreaded telling Fashion Baby, because I knew she would be heartbroken, but when I broke the news, her response was, and I quote, "Ewwwww!! That's gross!!! Will you please throw that away?! Yuck!! Oh, can I have a cat?" Clearly this was a front to hide her pain. I'm sure she was weeping on the inside...
So along came the cats, one at a time, and then Bob, and Sandy, and a dozen fish here and there (all of whom received a proper burial at sea). And most recently? Two dwarf African Water Frogs, each about an inch in size. They came in a cute little acrylic cube, complete with gravel, bamboo and water. All you have to do is feed them twice a week, and add bottled water when the tank gets low. This was the baby's Valentine's Day gift, and I dropped a buck or two on it, I'll admit. Things went swimmingly for a day or two, until I found a floater. I swear people, frogs are not my forte. So the cats and I performed yet another burial at sea. When I texted the news to my friend Tammy, the response was, "Well, that's 34 bucks well spent, eh?" That's what I love about Tammy; she can always find the silver lining...So we're down to one water frog. And then yesterday, we purchased an orange Beta fish, (how cool is that color?!), and put it in a glass vase with orange glass beads and a plant. So far, so good.
So there you have it, my zoo. Final tally: two cats, two frogs, one fish. And Sea Monkeys. For now...
Welcome to an average day in Fashion Momma's Zoo. In the course of my day, I make sure two cats have food and water and scoop their box. In a show of appreciation for the latter chore, they hop in a nano-second after I'm done, scratch, squat and bury. After all, you can't let a clean litter box go to waste!! When I change the litter, I can feel two pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head, waiting for the moment they can leap into the clean litter. I'm convinced they will hold it, no matter how badly they need to go, if they know there's a chance clean litter is in their future.
I also check on Bob the Frog, who is probably the most low-maintenance pet a person could have. Bob is a man a few words, unless it's 5 a.m. on a Spring morning. When Spring rolls around, Bob starts calling for the female frogs in the neighborhood. Bob fancies himself a ladies' man, and I just don't have the heart to break it to him that he will never see a lady frog again. But other than his early morning ribbits and croaks, we don't hear a peep out of him. Unless he forgets there's a mesh cover over his tank and goes for a flying leap across his 'pond', aka tank. Fashion Baby captured Bob last summer at a local pond, and it's taken him awhile to realize he can no longer go for his personal best in the long jump. When he tries, he hits the mesh cover so hard it makes a fantastic bang, which has caused this Momma to leap out of her skin in the wee hours of the night. And yes, a part of me feels bad about the fact that Bob's habitat is now one-eighth the size it used to be. So please, don't give me grief over Bob. Fashion Baby loves him, and he's well cared for. He's fed live crickets on a regular basis, because Bob refuses to eat his food if it isn't still moving when he swallows it.
At one point in time, we also had an African Tree Frog, Sandy. Fashion Baby determined on her own that Sandy was female, and no amount of questioning would change her mind. The problem with Sandy was she needed more of a rainforest environment, and we don't have many of those in these parts. So, when the temp dropped below 50, Sandy hopped her way to the Great Rainforest in the Sky. We left her in the tank a bit longer than we should have, and then one day, when my baby had a small boy over for a play date, the two of them decided to perform an autopsy on one Sandy the Tree Frog, deceased. They documented their findings, even diagrammed her teeny skeleton, and gave a full report. Cause of death was undetermined, but they were able to rule out foul play. When the small boy's mother found out they'd been handling the carcass, she kinda freaked a tiny bit, something about it being unsanitary...But I made sure they scrubbed all the way up to their elbows when they were done, and then the bones were tossed.
Fashion Baby tends to handle the loss of pets fairly well. Before either of the cats came onto the scene, she was the proud owner of Pebbles the Hamster. While the rodent was rather cute, I loathed the job of cleaning its cage. Loathed it, people! I'd rather scrub toilets with a toothbrush than clean a hamster cage, but I did it. Regularly. Because my baby loved her hamster. But one day, Fate smiled on me, and when I went to feed Pebbles, I discovered she would no longer require food or water. I dreaded telling Fashion Baby, because I knew she would be heartbroken, but when I broke the news, her response was, and I quote, "Ewwwww!! That's gross!!! Will you please throw that away?! Yuck!! Oh, can I have a cat?" Clearly this was a front to hide her pain. I'm sure she was weeping on the inside...
So along came the cats, one at a time, and then Bob, and Sandy, and a dozen fish here and there (all of whom received a proper burial at sea). And most recently? Two dwarf African Water Frogs, each about an inch in size. They came in a cute little acrylic cube, complete with gravel, bamboo and water. All you have to do is feed them twice a week, and add bottled water when the tank gets low. This was the baby's Valentine's Day gift, and I dropped a buck or two on it, I'll admit. Things went swimmingly for a day or two, until I found a floater. I swear people, frogs are not my forte. So the cats and I performed yet another burial at sea. When I texted the news to my friend Tammy, the response was, "Well, that's 34 bucks well spent, eh?" That's what I love about Tammy; she can always find the silver lining...So we're down to one water frog. And then yesterday, we purchased an orange Beta fish, (how cool is that color?!), and put it in a glass vase with orange glass beads and a plant. So far, so good.
So there you have it, my zoo. Final tally: two cats, two frogs, one fish. And Sea Monkeys. For now...
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Happy (belated) Valentine's Day
It's way past my bedtime, but having just returned from the late showing of Valentine's Day, I'm a bit wired. And what better thing to do when I'm wide awake than put fingers to keys and make some sense of the crazy machinations of my brain train? It's not as if I should be trying to wind down, in the hopes of getting a sweet hour or two of sleep before rising bright and early to yell at my girl to "GET UP NOW!!! IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL!!!" So, welcome to my midnight ramblings!
I went to this movie with some girlfriends, which is probably the best, and let's face it, only, way to see this flick. We laughed uproariously at all the funny parts (Taylor Swift/Taylor Lautner characters were particularly side-splitting), 'aaawww'ed at the sweet parts, sighed at the touching parts, and got a little teary-eyed when the movie got good and sappy, as any decent chick flick does! I'm quite sure that none of our husbands would have voluntarily gone to see this movie. We're talking a chick flick, entitled Valentine's Day, which opened on...well, you get the idea. That would just be too much. The combination of the whole scenario might in fact blow a hole in the universe, or render their Man Cards permanently null and void, or gasp!! destroy the space-time continuum!! And we all know that one of their jobs, as men, is to safeguard said continuum. Heck, Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd traveled all over time, in THREE movies, doing that very thing. They electrocuted themselves, got in numerous fist fights (mostly because some version of Biff called Marty 'chicken'), got shot at by black market plutonium dealers, and sent a train flying over a cliff. No man worth his salt would risk destroying all of that hard work to go see this movie, no matter what his refusal cost him on the home front!
Before heading out the door to hop into the back seat of Susan's minivan, I gave J and the girl specific instructions. Mostly, I reminded J to put the food away, as I had not had the time to do so before the movie. And to G, I lovingly said, "Remember, you need to study for your math test, and read your book before bed." As we headed to the theater, all giggles and girl chat, the little nagging thought in the back of my mind was, "J is NOT going to put the food away. The two of them are going to get distracted with other things, and then they'll both crash on the bed, with the t.v. on, and I'll come home and have to put the food away, I just know it!" But as soon as the movie started, and all these actors (so many!) started losing love and finding new love, that little thought ran and hid deep in my subconscious. For two hours, I had a blast, laughing it up with my girlfriends. And even when we had to turn around and go back to the theater because Amy forgot her wallet!!!, and sit there and wait for some teenage "I don't care what happened lady, just get your wallet and get out" punk to walk by the doors so she could run in and find her wallet, sitting there waiting for her, I was still having a fabulous time. You know when you really enjoy a movie, you start quoting the best lines as you're walking out of the theater? Well that's what we were doing, and it was a hoot!!
When I got home, the house was pretty dark, and my two beloveds were catching flies on the bed, Food Network blaring from the t.v. I walked into the kitchen, fully expecting to find a mess, and folks, you could've knocked me over with a feather boa! J had put the food away! Well, all except the angel food cakes, which I knew wouldn't get put away, because they were not in the Food Zone; rather, they were hiding on the table. I saw them sitting there before I left, and had the brief thought that I should probably put them away, because no one would notice them sitting there, but I was too excited for the flick to see that inspiration through. But here's the best part: I smiled to myself, standing there in that kitchen, because I knew exactly what the Gruesome Twosome would do, and they did it.
Hollywood does a spectacular job of making love a grand thing, complete with swelling music at the romantic climax, soft lighting, perfect chance encounters, beautiful people, and those scenes when the one person finally realizes who they really love, and they go running after them, and catch them just in time, and when they find them, they breathlessly pour their hearts out, and they kiss, and live happily ever after, and no one ever has morning breath, or funky bed-head hair, or gains a single pound, or loses a single hair from their head. And seeing all that is a great way to spend a few hours on a break from reality, but honestly, I prefer reality. My love is walking into our house, seeing the two people who fill my life with joy, craziness, stress, happiness, tears, laughter, silliness, frustration, worry, peace, hope, kindness and love. My love is suddenly realizing I know them so well, I can predict their moves, right up to the point they do a total 180 on me. It's standing in the kitchen, looking past the sink full of dirty dishes, and seeing the meal we've shared as a family. It's seeing the big smile on my daughter's face as she runs into my arms after school, and seeing my husband walk through the door at the end of the day with a smile on his face and a kiss for me. And Hollywood has nothing on those moments.
I went to this movie with some girlfriends, which is probably the best, and let's face it, only, way to see this flick. We laughed uproariously at all the funny parts (Taylor Swift/Taylor Lautner characters were particularly side-splitting), 'aaawww'ed at the sweet parts, sighed at the touching parts, and got a little teary-eyed when the movie got good and sappy, as any decent chick flick does! I'm quite sure that none of our husbands would have voluntarily gone to see this movie. We're talking a chick flick, entitled Valentine's Day, which opened on...well, you get the idea. That would just be too much. The combination of the whole scenario might in fact blow a hole in the universe, or render their Man Cards permanently null and void, or gasp!! destroy the space-time continuum!! And we all know that one of their jobs, as men, is to safeguard said continuum. Heck, Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd traveled all over time, in THREE movies, doing that very thing. They electrocuted themselves, got in numerous fist fights (mostly because some version of Biff called Marty 'chicken'), got shot at by black market plutonium dealers, and sent a train flying over a cliff. No man worth his salt would risk destroying all of that hard work to go see this movie, no matter what his refusal cost him on the home front!
Before heading out the door to hop into the back seat of Susan's minivan, I gave J and the girl specific instructions. Mostly, I reminded J to put the food away, as I had not had the time to do so before the movie. And to G, I lovingly said, "Remember, you need to study for your math test, and read your book before bed." As we headed to the theater, all giggles and girl chat, the little nagging thought in the back of my mind was, "J is NOT going to put the food away. The two of them are going to get distracted with other things, and then they'll both crash on the bed, with the t.v. on, and I'll come home and have to put the food away, I just know it!" But as soon as the movie started, and all these actors (so many!) started losing love and finding new love, that little thought ran and hid deep in my subconscious. For two hours, I had a blast, laughing it up with my girlfriends. And even when we had to turn around and go back to the theater because Amy forgot her wallet!!!, and sit there and wait for some teenage "I don't care what happened lady, just get your wallet and get out" punk to walk by the doors so she could run in and find her wallet, sitting there waiting for her, I was still having a fabulous time. You know when you really enjoy a movie, you start quoting the best lines as you're walking out of the theater? Well that's what we were doing, and it was a hoot!!
When I got home, the house was pretty dark, and my two beloveds were catching flies on the bed, Food Network blaring from the t.v. I walked into the kitchen, fully expecting to find a mess, and folks, you could've knocked me over with a feather boa! J had put the food away! Well, all except the angel food cakes, which I knew wouldn't get put away, because they were not in the Food Zone; rather, they were hiding on the table. I saw them sitting there before I left, and had the brief thought that I should probably put them away, because no one would notice them sitting there, but I was too excited for the flick to see that inspiration through. But here's the best part: I smiled to myself, standing there in that kitchen, because I knew exactly what the Gruesome Twosome would do, and they did it.
Hollywood does a spectacular job of making love a grand thing, complete with swelling music at the romantic climax, soft lighting, perfect chance encounters, beautiful people, and those scenes when the one person finally realizes who they really love, and they go running after them, and catch them just in time, and when they find them, they breathlessly pour their hearts out, and they kiss, and live happily ever after, and no one ever has morning breath, or funky bed-head hair, or gains a single pound, or loses a single hair from their head. And seeing all that is a great way to spend a few hours on a break from reality, but honestly, I prefer reality. My love is walking into our house, seeing the two people who fill my life with joy, craziness, stress, happiness, tears, laughter, silliness, frustration, worry, peace, hope, kindness and love. My love is suddenly realizing I know them so well, I can predict their moves, right up to the point they do a total 180 on me. It's standing in the kitchen, looking past the sink full of dirty dishes, and seeing the meal we've shared as a family. It's seeing the big smile on my daughter's face as she runs into my arms after school, and seeing my husband walk through the door at the end of the day with a smile on his face and a kiss for me. And Hollywood has nothing on those moments.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Which Wednesday? Ash Wednesday!
I love Jesus; my family loves Jesus; my best friends love Jesus, and we celebrate His ultimate sacrifice for all of us. And this time of year, our thoughts go to that most beautiful gift of love. However, our house doesn't participate in Ash Wednesday the way other believers do. I am making no judgments either way. And I will admit that the extent of my knowledge of Ash Wednesday observation is that when you go to mass, you get the sign of the Cross on your forehead. When I was in school, it took me forever to realize that's what the black marks were on my classmates' foreheads. So in my ignorance, I would say, "Ummm, you got a little something on your face; it might be pencil lead...just lettin' ya know." And in return for my 'helpfulness', I got an, "Ummm yeah, it's Ash Wednesday, and that's the sign of the Cross (duuuhhh)." So I felt a bit silly and totally out of the loop, and that was all I knew about Ash Wednesday.
So last night, my baby girl was sitting on the couch with me when she suddenly announced, "I have to decide what I'm going to give up! That starts tomorrow!!" J looked at her as if she had two heads, but I knew exactly what she was talking about, because I had just discussed this very thing with my friend Tammy, when I picked up my girl from her house. You see, Tammy's small boy has been going to Logos Bible Study with one of his little buddies, and last week they were learning all about Ash Wednesday, and giving up things for Lent, and all those things. Naturally, the boy needed to share his newly acquired knowledge, not only with his family, but with my girl as well. He informed his father that if he would go with him to Logos, they could have dinner together, and then write their sins down on a piece of paper (showing NO ONE!), then place them at the Cross, and set them on fire. "And if you're really good, you get ash on your forehead." So the boy is jazzed for Ash Wednesday, and was encouraging his loving parents to choose what they were going to give up for Lent. My girl picked up on his excitement, and decided she needed to get in on the whole Lent thing for herself. And people, I am all about making sacrifices for God and Jesus, so long as my girl understands why she's making that sacrifice.
I tried to explain why people give things up for Lent, but I'm not sure how much sunk in, so I think we'll revisit the topic in the near future. Mostly I think the message was lost on my baby because she was going through a mental checklist of what she could give up, and carrying on a conversation with herself the whole time. Finally, she announced, "I think I'll give up video games!!" To which I replied, "Wow baby, that's impressive! I know how much you love to play those video games, so that will be a big sacrifice for you. Are you going to stick with it when you go visit Diane?" Diane is our wonderful neighbor, a retired international flight attendant, who is a hoot, and whom my daughter adores. When we get home in the afternoons, she hits the ground running, straight for Diane's front door, and she hangs there for hours, eating all sorts of yummy things, spoiling Pinkie the Cat, and playing the Wii. Naturally, I had my doubts as to the strength of my girl's resolve when faced with having to give up her Wii-ing at Diane's, but she's solid as a rock. "Well Mom, I do love my video games, but really, what else would I give up? I mean, I can't give up you and Dad, becuase you're my parents, and I love you and need you (Oh Lord, I love this child). And, I can't give up food, because I have to eat to stay healthy (She's right, she does. The girl is teeny tiny, and cannot afford to skip a meal). I could give up my bed, but then I'd just be sleeping on the floor, and probably wouldn't get very good sleep, and then I wouldn't be alert in school, and I'm pretty sure Jesus wouldn't want that to happen, so I need to keep my bed. And Mom, I can't give up my cats, because they're FAMILY, so that's out. So that pretty much leaves video games." People, she's nine going on 49; she is so wise. Meanwhile, J was on the other couch, silent as the grave. "Dad, what do you think you should give up?" I'm pretty sure he was pretending to sleep, rather than actually sleeping, but either way, silence. I could hear crickets in the background. Moving on then..."Mom, how about you? What would you give up?" Lord, I love my daughter, and I love the strength of her faith, but sometimes, she hits me a little too close to home. "Gee baby, I don't know. Let me think about it, and I'll get back to you."
Maybe I should give up sweets. I adore a good dessert, but they don't love me back, so that might be something I could give up. And it might benefit my waistline, in addition to my faith. But today is the day people! It's zero hour, and I haven't come up with an idea yet. I have precious few hours to make a choice, before my kiddo comes home and quizzes me. Ah, the faith of children. Time to go through my mental checklist. But I will tell you right now, Starbucks is NOT AN OPTION. Not at all. People would get hurt if I went without my venti extra hot mocha for a period of more than 36 hours. Starbucks is my weakness, and I'm pretty sure they put something 'extra' in the coffee to keep ya comin' back for more. I can't prove it of course, but still...addicting. The thing is, I am totally secure in my 'Bucks addiction, because the people I hold near and dear to my heart are equally hooked. So no one is about to hold an intervention: "We love you Fashion Momma, but your Starbucks consumption is out of control. It's taken over your life, and we're so worried about you!" And here's what I would say to them, "Physician, heal thyself!" Total non-sequitur, but it works, so deal with it. In other words, if you're living in a house of glass, you might want to put the boulder down. I'm rambling aren't I? Good grief. What was I saying? Oh, Starbucks is off the list of potential sacrifices. Went and got one this a.m. before heading to school with my daugther, to help with math centers, and while there, I decided to grab a hot drink for her principal. When we got to school, he was on crossing guard duty, so I put it on his desk. And lo! What to my eyes should appear, but another cup of the good stuff! When he cruised into the classroom later on, I let him know I was aware he was double-dosing it, and he said, "That's totally fine, because I really need it today!" Not sure I want to know what was on his horizon, but it didn't sound sunny. So I'm thinking the 'Bucks is off his sacrifice list also.
So, happy Wednesday people! I hope you're having more success with your self-sacrifice than I am.
So last night, my baby girl was sitting on the couch with me when she suddenly announced, "I have to decide what I'm going to give up! That starts tomorrow!!" J looked at her as if she had two heads, but I knew exactly what she was talking about, because I had just discussed this very thing with my friend Tammy, when I picked up my girl from her house. You see, Tammy's small boy has been going to Logos Bible Study with one of his little buddies, and last week they were learning all about Ash Wednesday, and giving up things for Lent, and all those things. Naturally, the boy needed to share his newly acquired knowledge, not only with his family, but with my girl as well. He informed his father that if he would go with him to Logos, they could have dinner together, and then write their sins down on a piece of paper (showing NO ONE!), then place them at the Cross, and set them on fire. "And if you're really good, you get ash on your forehead." So the boy is jazzed for Ash Wednesday, and was encouraging his loving parents to choose what they were going to give up for Lent. My girl picked up on his excitement, and decided she needed to get in on the whole Lent thing for herself. And people, I am all about making sacrifices for God and Jesus, so long as my girl understands why she's making that sacrifice.
I tried to explain why people give things up for Lent, but I'm not sure how much sunk in, so I think we'll revisit the topic in the near future. Mostly I think the message was lost on my baby because she was going through a mental checklist of what she could give up, and carrying on a conversation with herself the whole time. Finally, she announced, "I think I'll give up video games!!" To which I replied, "Wow baby, that's impressive! I know how much you love to play those video games, so that will be a big sacrifice for you. Are you going to stick with it when you go visit Diane?" Diane is our wonderful neighbor, a retired international flight attendant, who is a hoot, and whom my daughter adores. When we get home in the afternoons, she hits the ground running, straight for Diane's front door, and she hangs there for hours, eating all sorts of yummy things, spoiling Pinkie the Cat, and playing the Wii. Naturally, I had my doubts as to the strength of my girl's resolve when faced with having to give up her Wii-ing at Diane's, but she's solid as a rock. "Well Mom, I do love my video games, but really, what else would I give up? I mean, I can't give up you and Dad, becuase you're my parents, and I love you and need you (Oh Lord, I love this child). And, I can't give up food, because I have to eat to stay healthy (She's right, she does. The girl is teeny tiny, and cannot afford to skip a meal). I could give up my bed, but then I'd just be sleeping on the floor, and probably wouldn't get very good sleep, and then I wouldn't be alert in school, and I'm pretty sure Jesus wouldn't want that to happen, so I need to keep my bed. And Mom, I can't give up my cats, because they're FAMILY, so that's out. So that pretty much leaves video games." People, she's nine going on 49; she is so wise. Meanwhile, J was on the other couch, silent as the grave. "Dad, what do you think you should give up?" I'm pretty sure he was pretending to sleep, rather than actually sleeping, but either way, silence. I could hear crickets in the background. Moving on then..."Mom, how about you? What would you give up?" Lord, I love my daughter, and I love the strength of her faith, but sometimes, she hits me a little too close to home. "Gee baby, I don't know. Let me think about it, and I'll get back to you."
Maybe I should give up sweets. I adore a good dessert, but they don't love me back, so that might be something I could give up. And it might benefit my waistline, in addition to my faith. But today is the day people! It's zero hour, and I haven't come up with an idea yet. I have precious few hours to make a choice, before my kiddo comes home and quizzes me. Ah, the faith of children. Time to go through my mental checklist. But I will tell you right now, Starbucks is NOT AN OPTION. Not at all. People would get hurt if I went without my venti extra hot mocha for a period of more than 36 hours. Starbucks is my weakness, and I'm pretty sure they put something 'extra' in the coffee to keep ya comin' back for more. I can't prove it of course, but still...addicting. The thing is, I am totally secure in my 'Bucks addiction, because the people I hold near and dear to my heart are equally hooked. So no one is about to hold an intervention: "We love you Fashion Momma, but your Starbucks consumption is out of control. It's taken over your life, and we're so worried about you!" And here's what I would say to them, "Physician, heal thyself!" Total non-sequitur, but it works, so deal with it. In other words, if you're living in a house of glass, you might want to put the boulder down. I'm rambling aren't I? Good grief. What was I saying? Oh, Starbucks is off the list of potential sacrifices. Went and got one this a.m. before heading to school with my daugther, to help with math centers, and while there, I decided to grab a hot drink for her principal. When we got to school, he was on crossing guard duty, so I put it on his desk. And lo! What to my eyes should appear, but another cup of the good stuff! When he cruised into the classroom later on, I let him know I was aware he was double-dosing it, and he said, "That's totally fine, because I really need it today!" Not sure I want to know what was on his horizon, but it didn't sound sunny. So I'm thinking the 'Bucks is off his sacrifice list also.
So, happy Wednesday people! I hope you're having more success with your self-sacrifice than I am.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Bouncing Back
Folks, I lead an exciting life. Please, don't be jealous. I get excited when I find the dryer sheets I love, when they've been gone from shelves for months!!
Scents I love: rainstorms, clean sheets, fresh laundry, warm cookies, my husband's cologne, you know, the usual. And, I really like my clothes to smell wonderful. About a year ago, I started using Bounce dryer sheets, and people began remarking how good my clothes smelled. So of course, I knew these were the sheets to stay with. See, exciting life, right? I get thrilled when I find great dryer sheets! So yes, my laundry smelled fabulous, and life was good. Until. Until I went to buy more in November, and the Walmart shelf was empty. As I felt the panic set in, I said to my daughter, "Ugh, they're out of my dryer sheets!!" Yes, I involve my nine year old in my shopping & laundry emergencies. They're never too young to learn the basics, you know. She stepped up, and together we scoured those shelves for the missing purple box. No luck. But it was okay, or so I thought, because the tag was still on the shelf where the boxes should be. I took that to mean they were just temporarily out, and the problem would be solved in short order. Yeah right. Week after week I went back to that shelf, hoping that would be the day my dryer sheets would be back. As time went on, I began to worry that Bounce had discontinued the fragrance, and that would explain the absence of the sheets which had made my life so wonderful. But the shelf tag remained, assuring me they would return. In the meantime, I checked other stores in town, to see if they still had any...no luck. Some might say I was losing perspective over the whole thing, and I should have just picked a different fragrance and moved on with my life, but that's not how I roll.
When I find something I love, I stick with it. Until the manufacturer discontinues it, which seems to happen on a fairly regular basis. As a junior in high school, I started wearing Victoria's Secret Vanilla Lace perfume and lotion, and it became my signature scent. In another lifetime, I ran into my boyfriend (he was my ex at the time) at the local movie theater, and we were chatting for a bit after the movie. He confessed that he could tell the minute I walked into the theater, and knew it was me, because he could smell my perfume. Granted, he may have been exaggerating a bit, in order to get on my good side, but still. And then, Victoria broke my heart. She discontinued my Vanilla Lace! Yes, it was mine, and she took if from me!! I'm sure this kind of thing happens to other women too. Well I know it does, because I read the reviews and comments on the Bath & Body Works site, and often they express frustration over discontinued scents.
So back to (my) reality: No dryer sheets to be found in any stores. Oh the humanity! And then, about a month ago, the storm broke and the sun shone through, for one glorious moment. I ran into the grocery store just blocks away from our house, my daughter in tow, after just a few items, and my quick trip turned into a scouring of each and every aisle. I can't help it, I'm a shopper. It's one of the things I do. As I merrily guided my mini cart (which are so cute!) down the narrow aisles, I spied it. As I walked up to the shelf, I could hear angelic choirs, and the boxes glittered like so many golden treasures. There they were, the Holy Grail of dryer sheets, my dryer sheets!! Better yet, they had been marked down for clearance! I practically shouted from the rooftops, "They're here!!! I found them, life makes sense again!!!" I'm fairly certain every Safeway patron heard me exclaim to my daughter, "OH MY GOSH, I FOUND THEM, AND THEY'RE ON SALE!!!"
We quickly threw the four remaining boxes in the cart, and my daughter gave the shelf a good once-over, just to be sure we hadn't left a man behind. For a fleeting moment, I stepped out of my shopping euphoria and said, "I don't know, Kiddo, do you think I should buy them all?!" And this is where I got that most prized of confirmations, the ones which tell me I've done my job as a mother, "OH MY GOSH YES, MOM!! BUY THEM ALL, THEY'RE ON SALE, AND THEY WON'T HAVE MORE!!" So I did. What, I'm not going to take her advice? She's wise beyond her years! I walked out of that store with $20 worth of dryer sheets, and a new spring in my step. The first thing I did when I got them home was to tuck them neatly away in my laundry cupboard, and start a load of laundry, so I could use one right away! But I knew I had to be discerning about which loads got the good dryer sheets, and which ones got the 'alternative' dryer sheets. It had occurred to me on the trip home that if the store had put them on clearance, they might truly be discontinued,which was a confirmation of the fear which had been growing for months. And if that was the case, I was going to have to make them last, so I had to be discerning about how I used them. I devised a system of evaluation, in which laundry had to meet very stringent criteria before being issued a treasured dryer sheet. It went something like this, "Oh hello Mr. Towel. Thank you for your interest in the treasured dry sheets. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your request for a good dryer sheet has been denied. This is not a reflection on you, or your importance in my life. It's just that I don't wear you, and therefore, the scent of the good dryer sheet would be wasted on you, as you sit in the linen cabinet. Please accept this other dryer sheet with my thanks for your continued service, and keep me in mind next time you're choosing a laundry service." It's my reality, and I'm quite happy in it...don't judge me too harshly.
All this time, that little thought about discontinuation kept popping up, until I finally went looking for answers. I found them on the Bounce website. When I received a response, it included a link I could use to locate stores in my area which carry the beloved sheets. Unfortunately, once I got to that page, I had no way to enter my zip code. However, I had been assured that they were not going to be taken from my life. But because I couldn't find them, though I searched high and low, I continued to ration. And then, wonder of wonders! I went down the laundry aisle in Walmart last week, and found a shelf chock full of the pretty purple boxes!! I nearly leapt out of my skin with joy, but I remained calm. Don't want people to think I'm some laundry nut...So now I can put an end to the rationing, and will be pleased to inform Mr. Towel that he will indeed be issued one of the good sheets. Ah, the bliss.
Scents I love: rainstorms, clean sheets, fresh laundry, warm cookies, my husband's cologne, you know, the usual. And, I really like my clothes to smell wonderful. About a year ago, I started using Bounce dryer sheets, and people began remarking how good my clothes smelled. So of course, I knew these were the sheets to stay with. See, exciting life, right? I get thrilled when I find great dryer sheets! So yes, my laundry smelled fabulous, and life was good. Until. Until I went to buy more in November, and the Walmart shelf was empty. As I felt the panic set in, I said to my daughter, "Ugh, they're out of my dryer sheets!!" Yes, I involve my nine year old in my shopping & laundry emergencies. They're never too young to learn the basics, you know. She stepped up, and together we scoured those shelves for the missing purple box. No luck. But it was okay, or so I thought, because the tag was still on the shelf where the boxes should be. I took that to mean they were just temporarily out, and the problem would be solved in short order. Yeah right. Week after week I went back to that shelf, hoping that would be the day my dryer sheets would be back. As time went on, I began to worry that Bounce had discontinued the fragrance, and that would explain the absence of the sheets which had made my life so wonderful. But the shelf tag remained, assuring me they would return. In the meantime, I checked other stores in town, to see if they still had any...no luck. Some might say I was losing perspective over the whole thing, and I should have just picked a different fragrance and moved on with my life, but that's not how I roll.
When I find something I love, I stick with it. Until the manufacturer discontinues it, which seems to happen on a fairly regular basis. As a junior in high school, I started wearing Victoria's Secret Vanilla Lace perfume and lotion, and it became my signature scent. In another lifetime, I ran into my boyfriend (he was my ex at the time) at the local movie theater, and we were chatting for a bit after the movie. He confessed that he could tell the minute I walked into the theater, and knew it was me, because he could smell my perfume. Granted, he may have been exaggerating a bit, in order to get on my good side, but still. And then, Victoria broke my heart. She discontinued my Vanilla Lace! Yes, it was mine, and she took if from me!! I'm sure this kind of thing happens to other women too. Well I know it does, because I read the reviews and comments on the Bath & Body Works site, and often they express frustration over discontinued scents.
So back to (my) reality: No dryer sheets to be found in any stores. Oh the humanity! And then, about a month ago, the storm broke and the sun shone through, for one glorious moment. I ran into the grocery store just blocks away from our house, my daughter in tow, after just a few items, and my quick trip turned into a scouring of each and every aisle. I can't help it, I'm a shopper. It's one of the things I do. As I merrily guided my mini cart (which are so cute!) down the narrow aisles, I spied it. As I walked up to the shelf, I could hear angelic choirs, and the boxes glittered like so many golden treasures. There they were, the Holy Grail of dryer sheets, my dryer sheets!! Better yet, they had been marked down for clearance! I practically shouted from the rooftops, "They're here!!! I found them, life makes sense again!!!" I'm fairly certain every Safeway patron heard me exclaim to my daughter, "OH MY GOSH, I FOUND THEM, AND THEY'RE ON SALE!!!"
We quickly threw the four remaining boxes in the cart, and my daughter gave the shelf a good once-over, just to be sure we hadn't left a man behind. For a fleeting moment, I stepped out of my shopping euphoria and said, "I don't know, Kiddo, do you think I should buy them all?!" And this is where I got that most prized of confirmations, the ones which tell me I've done my job as a mother, "OH MY GOSH YES, MOM!! BUY THEM ALL, THEY'RE ON SALE, AND THEY WON'T HAVE MORE!!" So I did. What, I'm not going to take her advice? She's wise beyond her years! I walked out of that store with $20 worth of dryer sheets, and a new spring in my step. The first thing I did when I got them home was to tuck them neatly away in my laundry cupboard, and start a load of laundry, so I could use one right away! But I knew I had to be discerning about which loads got the good dryer sheets, and which ones got the 'alternative' dryer sheets. It had occurred to me on the trip home that if the store had put them on clearance, they might truly be discontinued,which was a confirmation of the fear which had been growing for months. And if that was the case, I was going to have to make them last, so I had to be discerning about how I used them. I devised a system of evaluation, in which laundry had to meet very stringent criteria before being issued a treasured dryer sheet. It went something like this, "Oh hello Mr. Towel. Thank you for your interest in the treasured dry sheets. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your request for a good dryer sheet has been denied. This is not a reflection on you, or your importance in my life. It's just that I don't wear you, and therefore, the scent of the good dryer sheet would be wasted on you, as you sit in the linen cabinet. Please accept this other dryer sheet with my thanks for your continued service, and keep me in mind next time you're choosing a laundry service." It's my reality, and I'm quite happy in it...don't judge me too harshly.
All this time, that little thought about discontinuation kept popping up, until I finally went looking for answers. I found them on the Bounce website. When I received a response, it included a link I could use to locate stores in my area which carry the beloved sheets. Unfortunately, once I got to that page, I had no way to enter my zip code. However, I had been assured that they were not going to be taken from my life. But because I couldn't find them, though I searched high and low, I continued to ration. And then, wonder of wonders! I went down the laundry aisle in Walmart last week, and found a shelf chock full of the pretty purple boxes!! I nearly leapt out of my skin with joy, but I remained calm. Don't want people to think I'm some laundry nut...So now I can put an end to the rationing, and will be pleased to inform Mr. Towel that he will indeed be issued one of the good sheets. Ah, the bliss.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
I Just Drive It...
Okay, I have been very lax this past week and a half, so I might cram two or three posts into one day; we'll see how it goes...
A few weeks ago, we were headed to church, J at the wheel. All of sudden he asked, "How long has that been doing that?" To which I replied, "How long has what been doing what?" Folks, I knew exactly what he was referring to, but I still played the clueless wife card. That's right, I did it. But I did hear a whirring noise; turns out it was the sound of suffragettes making like spinning tops in their graves, because I had just set the Women's Movement back 100 years. Honestly, I don't do car stuff. I can put fuel in it, check the oil level, add windshield fluid and change a tire. I have even changed the spark plugs, but that was under a mechanic's supervision. So when J asked what the noise was, I was unwilling to admit that the car had in fact been making a funny noise for a week or two, and I had chosen to ignore it. I operate under the same theory my mom taught me as a young lass, when I would complain that my brother was bugging me. "Honey, if you ignore him, eventually it won't be fun for him anymore, and he'll stop." So yes, I ignore noises in the car; I figure if I do, they'll eventually cease. But when I can ignore them no longer, I tell J, and expect him to take care of it. After all, that's why I married him. Well that, and now I don't have to lift heavy things, kill bugs, open jars, or do any of that kind of stuff. Oh keep your bra on, Gloria Steinem! I'm just kidding. Sort of.
And on a separate note, I would've made a horrible Women's Lib-ette. You see, I have a 'unique' bra size, so I find myself plunking down many clams for a single bra, and would have a heck of a time turning around and setting fire to it. You just don't incinerate a beautiful black Panache, for crying out loud! But I digress...
My response to J was, "Oh, you mean that noise the tire is making? I dunno, a few days, I guess," to which my loving husband said, "Well! When Big Red started making that noise, it was the U-joint going out!" Apparently that's a big deal, as my friend Tammy pointed out to me when I later relayed the story to her and our friend Amy. "Oh yeah, if that joint goes out, the vehicle stops dead. Right there. You are no longer driving. That happened to me once, when I was driving the old sod farm pickup, and that was before the days of cell phones, and I was out in the middle of nowhere, so I had to WALK!" Clearly, the joint is vital to the operations of a vehicle. Who knew. "Okay J, where do you want me to take the car to have it looked at?" "I don't know." End of discussion. I continued to ignore the sound, and true to my theory, it went away. Ta da!!!
I told J the sound had stopped and he said, "Huh. Well maybe you had a big chunk of ice wedged in the wheel well somewhere..." Hah!! I'm not the only one who 'ignores' car issues. Of course, having now written this post, it is a feit accompli that my car problems are about to get a lot worse...
A few weeks ago, we were headed to church, J at the wheel. All of sudden he asked, "How long has that been doing that?" To which I replied, "How long has what been doing what?" Folks, I knew exactly what he was referring to, but I still played the clueless wife card. That's right, I did it. But I did hear a whirring noise; turns out it was the sound of suffragettes making like spinning tops in their graves, because I had just set the Women's Movement back 100 years. Honestly, I don't do car stuff. I can put fuel in it, check the oil level, add windshield fluid and change a tire. I have even changed the spark plugs, but that was under a mechanic's supervision. So when J asked what the noise was, I was unwilling to admit that the car had in fact been making a funny noise for a week or two, and I had chosen to ignore it. I operate under the same theory my mom taught me as a young lass, when I would complain that my brother was bugging me. "Honey, if you ignore him, eventually it won't be fun for him anymore, and he'll stop." So yes, I ignore noises in the car; I figure if I do, they'll eventually cease. But when I can ignore them no longer, I tell J, and expect him to take care of it. After all, that's why I married him. Well that, and now I don't have to lift heavy things, kill bugs, open jars, or do any of that kind of stuff. Oh keep your bra on, Gloria Steinem! I'm just kidding. Sort of.
And on a separate note, I would've made a horrible Women's Lib-ette. You see, I have a 'unique' bra size, so I find myself plunking down many clams for a single bra, and would have a heck of a time turning around and setting fire to it. You just don't incinerate a beautiful black Panache, for crying out loud! But I digress...
My response to J was, "Oh, you mean that noise the tire is making? I dunno, a few days, I guess," to which my loving husband said, "Well! When Big Red started making that noise, it was the U-joint going out!" Apparently that's a big deal, as my friend Tammy pointed out to me when I later relayed the story to her and our friend Amy. "Oh yeah, if that joint goes out, the vehicle stops dead. Right there. You are no longer driving. That happened to me once, when I was driving the old sod farm pickup, and that was before the days of cell phones, and I was out in the middle of nowhere, so I had to WALK!" Clearly, the joint is vital to the operations of a vehicle. Who knew. "Okay J, where do you want me to take the car to have it looked at?" "I don't know." End of discussion. I continued to ignore the sound, and true to my theory, it went away. Ta da!!!
I told J the sound had stopped and he said, "Huh. Well maybe you had a big chunk of ice wedged in the wheel well somewhere..." Hah!! I'm not the only one who 'ignores' car issues. Of course, having now written this post, it is a feit accompli that my car problems are about to get a lot worse...
Monday, February 1, 2010
Mmmmm....Chocolate.....
It's Monday, and for most of us, it is not our fave day of the week. Sometimes I feel bad for Monday, since it's so hated, but then I remember that it's a day on a calendar, lacking the awareness that it's despised, as well as the emotion to feel bad as a result of this knowledge. So, I come back from Crazy Lady Land, and resume not being a fan of Monday. The question is, 'How can I make Monday a more pleasant day?' The answer, of course, is chocolate. And what I'm about to share with you is basically the mother of all Monday fixes, my Better Than... Brownies. That's what my mom calls them. I'll let you fill in the blank, but only after you've baked these bad boys. I must warn you, these brownies are not friends to your hips, butt or thighs, but they make life oh so wonderful. But you should be careful, once people discover you can make these, you'll suddenly have more 'friends' than you ever realized. I like to bake a batch and deliver them, still warm, to my husband's office. While I realize the hearty greeting I receive is more for the brownies than myself, it's still fun to see their faces light up when I walk into the room. Sorta like strolling onto the Red Carpet, only instead of being asked which designer I'm wearing, I'm asked what's in the pan I'm carrying...
Anywho, here we go...
Better Than... Brownies
Go gather:
9x13 pan, unsalted butter, unsweetened chocolate, sugar, vanilla, salt, eggs, flour, walnuts. That's it. Pretty simple, right? I mean, a box mix has about the same number of ingredients, and this is way better. I'm just sayin'....
Preheat oven to 325. (In most baking recipes, I drop the oven temp 25 degrees. It's more forgiving, and helps prevent dry baked goods. So when you come across a recipe with a 350 temp, try decreasing it to 325, and see how it works. If it doesn't help, you can always leave me a comment such as, "Look lady, you don't what the heck you're talking about!!!)
Lightly butter the 9x13 pan, set aside.
Ingredients:
1 Cup unsalted butter
6 oz unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped (Or you can do like I do, just break the squares up with your hands. Saves having to wash a cutting board and knife)
4 large eggs, brought to room temperature
2 Cups granulated sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 Cup all-purpose flour
Optional:
1/2 Cups walnuts, coarsely chopped (toss 'em in a little food processor and pulse for a second or two, if using whole walnuts)
In medium, heavy saucepan, combine butter and chocolate, and melt on low heat, stirring constantly until smooth. Or use a double-boiler. Let cool.
In large mixer bowl, combine eggs and sugar, beat until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. You want the eggs really fluffy, trust me. If they aren't, your brownies will sink after you take them out of the oven, and you'll end up with dense, thin brownies. Not good. So, beat those eggs! Beat in cooled chocolate mixture, along with vanilla and salt. Stir in flour, just until blended. Pour into pan, smooth. Sprinkle walnuts on top. Bake until toothpick comes out almost clean. If it comes out clean, you've baked 'em too long. Usually takes about 35 minutes, but check at 30, just to be safe. Let cool, dive in. You're welcome.
Anywho, here we go...
Better Than... Brownies
Go gather:
9x13 pan, unsalted butter, unsweetened chocolate, sugar, vanilla, salt, eggs, flour, walnuts. That's it. Pretty simple, right? I mean, a box mix has about the same number of ingredients, and this is way better. I'm just sayin'....
Preheat oven to 325. (In most baking recipes, I drop the oven temp 25 degrees. It's more forgiving, and helps prevent dry baked goods. So when you come across a recipe with a 350 temp, try decreasing it to 325, and see how it works. If it doesn't help, you can always leave me a comment such as, "Look lady, you don't what the heck you're talking about!!!)
Lightly butter the 9x13 pan, set aside.
Ingredients:
1 Cup unsalted butter
6 oz unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped (Or you can do like I do, just break the squares up with your hands. Saves having to wash a cutting board and knife)
4 large eggs, brought to room temperature
2 Cups granulated sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 Cup all-purpose flour
Optional:
1/2 Cups walnuts, coarsely chopped (toss 'em in a little food processor and pulse for a second or two, if using whole walnuts)
In medium, heavy saucepan, combine butter and chocolate, and melt on low heat, stirring constantly until smooth. Or use a double-boiler. Let cool.
In large mixer bowl, combine eggs and sugar, beat until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. You want the eggs really fluffy, trust me. If they aren't, your brownies will sink after you take them out of the oven, and you'll end up with dense, thin brownies. Not good. So, beat those eggs! Beat in cooled chocolate mixture, along with vanilla and salt. Stir in flour, just until blended. Pour into pan, smooth. Sprinkle walnuts on top. Bake until toothpick comes out almost clean. If it comes out clean, you've baked 'em too long. Usually takes about 35 minutes, but check at 30, just to be safe. Let cool, dive in. You're welcome.
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