Rotate This. . .

We’re going to a trivia event this weekend and the theme is “Let’s Go to the Movies.” Instead of going with a specific movie, we’re doing the Oscars.

Hubby wants to make a huge Oscar (cut out of luan) and put it on our rotating Christmas tree stand so it spins around. The problem? Our Christmas tree stand no longer rotates.

After picking his way through the Goodwill donation section, the luggage section, & the Sunday school supplies section, he finally arrived at the Christmas section of our basement. Fortunately, the stand was near the front of the Christmas pile so he was able to haul it out easily.

I had recently unpacked some boxes (we moved into our house a year and half ago & I still have boxes!) and found not one, but two cans of WD-40. Just in time, because Rob decided that was what the Christmas tree stand needed to get it rotating again.

Spray, spray, spray.

Plug in.

Turn on.

Motor running – no spinning.

Well, it must be hung up on something on the inside. There was a screw on the bottom, which he took out, but we still couldn’t get the “guts” cover off in order to inspect the “guts”.

We needed the mini pry bar!

To the basement, yet again. We looked over by the furnace, in the stack of unpacked boxes of workshop gizmos, and the top of the table saw (obviously gets a lot of use based on the amount of stuff on top of it – NOT).

No mini pry bar.

I finally looked in the tool chest. Low and behold, it was there. Who would have thunk it?

For some reason, prying off the bottom of the tree stand became my job. He sat on the couch and watched me.

I could get the pry bar between the top & bottom covers, but I could get it off. I needed more leverage. To the basement for the “Superbar”. I had seen this in the earlier search, so I knew exactly where it was.

So I’m jamming the crowbar under the lip of the bottom cover & pushing as hard as I can. Hubby got up off his butt and tried standing on one side of it to give me a little more leverage. Still no go on frickin’ that cover.

Now, he decided to point out that from the other side, looking down in the hole where the tree stump goes, you can see there is a machine screw in there. Not the head, but the bottom.

I figure, hey, the whole thing is plastic, I should be able to pound something down in there and strip it out. Guess what? I went to the basement again.

I came back with a HUGE long screw. I start banging around with my 2 oz hammer and that bolt isn’t moving. Once again, Hubby, my knight in shining armor, steps in to help. First, he sent me to the basement to “find a real hammer”, meaning the Craftsman heavy ass one.

He’s banging away and suddenly, leaps back with a “YOW! Son of a Bitch!” He had totally hammered full force on this thumb. He was in the kind of pain that travels up your arm so you can’t move it and you have difficulty breathing. This wasn’t funny – he was in serious pain.

After playing nursemaid for a bit, I started studying that stupid tree stand again. Hmmmm, there is a smaller cover embedded on the big bottom cover.

I started whacking away at that. ZING! The little cover went flying across the room. I’m lucky I didn’t shoot someone’s eye out.

WHAAAAAAAAAAH! The head of the screw!!!

Take that screw out and the whole thing opens like magic!

I took it apart very carefully. Not carefully enough because I knocked out the balls in the ball bearing ring. These were nasty. There was black goo all over them, but I put them back in, & lubricated all the moving parts.

Hubby had enough forethought to test the motor before putting it back together. We plugged it in, turned it on & voila – the motor ran smoothly.

I put that sucker back together – no less than a bazillion parts – and tried it out again. The damn thing wouldn’t turn!

We decided, the motor must not have enough power anymore to turn the weight of the tree stand, but Rob figures he can still use the motor and rig up a way to put the “Oscar” on top.

We’ll just see how this turns out.

Silver lining:

1. Good thing we tested this last night instead of waiting until Saturday.


2. The ball bearing goo stain on the carpet seems to have come out.


3. I’m getting a new Christmas tree stand so I’ll be back to “Lazy Ass” decorator by letting the tree rotate while putting on the gold beads & ornaments. God forbid, I have to walk around the tree a hundred times.

My Husband, the Philospher

In the shower, some people sing, some people pray, some people just get it done.

But my husband, well, he thinks random thoughts. And he has the “courtesy” to share them with me.

I’m so proud to be married to a man with such a brilliant mind – he is a member of MENSA after all.

Philosophers have pondered, debated & written theories on everything imaginable. However, my husband has given me and everyone reading this blog something to think about.

A recent sample of his random thoughts:

In a backward world, what if air was replaced by water?

Would toilets be filled with air?

Would fish breathe air while we breathed water?

Sounds to me, like he’s ready for summer and swimming. Or a vacation that involves SCUBA diving.

Now, for the scary (not so proud) revelation:

In a bizarro (as if the air/water thing weren’t bizarre enough) world, what if the human body worked backward?

Would we suck crap up our butt instead of it coming out?

Would it make its way up through the body so our mouths expel food?

Where would our teeth be located, in our butt?

These are the things he thinks about in the shower. How the hell did he get admitted into MENSA? Perhaps he should be admitted to a mental institute.

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!!
They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-haaa
To the funny farm. Where life is beautiful all the time . . .


Silver lining:

• I’m having a tough time with this one. I suppose there are worse things he could be doing in the shower, like singing.

EN-E-MA

First off, I have to tell you how utterly disappointed I was on my way to Bible study tonight. There is a house under construction that I’ve wanted to get into, but those construction guys got smarter about how they are locking up the houses (click here to read about my B&E adventure). Now I need an actual tool to get in and I keep forgetting to look for one.

Anyway, one of the doors was wide open, but I was running late. I was carrying my coffee cake AND my dinner plate filled with pizza rolls to Bible study – that’s how late I was. So I couldn’t go and properly explore beforehand, and by the time Bible study was over, it was dark. Shaz-bah, better luck next time.

I was not disappointed in our Bible study though. Back when I was a kid, my parents really didn’t talk very frankly to me about the body. This seemed to be the case with most of the other ladies in the group. I said most . . .

Do you remember when you first learned what an enema was? I know it’s a common question and I’m sure you have a story at the ready. Please share it by leaving a comment below.

I really couldn’t tell you about the first time I figured out what it was. I can tell you the first time I had to give someone an enema. My niece was constipated & I had some of those baby enemas. My sister actually administered it. Normally, it takes a little bit for them to go to work and you have a chance to get a diaper on. Not my niece – it was soooooo disgusting. I don’t know how that much poop accumulates in a baby. It was kind of like when you squeeze the play-doh through the snake maker. Yuck!

One of my friends in Bible study remembers her first time quite clearly, and the story demonstrates a dramatic difference in 80’s parenting styles.

As a youngster, my friend, we’ll call her “P”, and her friend “Q” heard the word “enema”, but neither of them knew what it meant. They started tittering about it and finally decided they would each ask their moms, then get back together and compare notes.

This story exemplifies the “lost enema generation.” They had to go to their parents and actually ASK!

Back in the really olden days (40’s & 50’s), everyone over the age of four knew what an enema was. That was a time when mothers were obsessed with your poop. If you didn’t poop for even one day, you got an enema. It was part of the evening bedtime check list:

• Jammies on?
• Brush your teeth?
• Go potty?
• Did you poop today?

If the answer was no, you had go to the clinic (they had special clinics for this) first thing in the morning. Mothers would fret about your lack of poop all evening and into the night. Fathers, on the other hand, saw the clinics for what they were – a profitable business.

“So Bill, what do you do for a living?”

“Well, Bob, I’m an enema administrator.”

“Wow! Now, that’s job security – don’t see you hitting the bread line anytime soon. Every time I drive by, those places are packed. And I don’t mean just the number of people!”

Today, kids would just Google it. Then they would text the definition to all their friends. Phones would be a buzzin’ all over the playground. “OMG! NMA is so NAGI!”

But, as I said, P & Q had to ask their parents a question – OMG, the horror!

Q got the prim and proper answer:

“Well, I asked my mom. She looked a little shocked, and then she smiled and giggled. My dad told her to go ahead and tell me. So she said, ‘Honey (giggle, giggle), let’s sit down a moment. An enema (more giggling and somewhat uncomfortable smirking) is when they insert a tube into your anus and use water to gently flush out any compacted fecal matter.’ What did your mom say?”

P got the straight up version:

“It’s where they squirt water up your ass so you shit.”

After the roar of laughter died down, somehow our fearless leader was able to pull our study group back to God’s word (she's really good at it). The key verse related to our entire study last night was 1 Corinthians 6:19:

"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?"

Maybe we all need to keep this verse in mind and get ourselves a mental enema – flush all the shit out so you can take care of the body you have been given & strengthen your relationship with God.



Silver lining:

1. God and enemas – who knew?


2. Things don’t change that much from generation to generation. Moms still obsess over poop; we just don’t go to the same extremes.

SOLD! Well, sort of . . .

Back in 2005, a friend gave us a 10% off coupon for Home Depot. We had just refinanced the house & taken out equity so we decided to buy ALL the wood to build both an 11’X12’ shed and a 16’X32’ deck. This is enough wood to fill a 2 car garage.

It was August, right in the middle of the dog days of summer. Outside projects would have to wait. So the wood sat in the garage.

Fall came and Hubby had to dig out an area to pour a concrete pad for the shed. This involved digging holes for cement pillars and an “apron” to support the cement pad. By November the pad was finally poured and approved by the city.

Now it was getting too cold for outside projects. The wood continued to sit in the garage.

Spring (2006) came, but there was a lot of rain so outside projects would have to wait. Wood was still in the garage.

Eventually, we pulled 2X4’s out of the garage and started putting up walls!! By the time fall rolled around, we had all four walls up and the attic subfloor laid down. Now it was time for the roof trusses – hmmmm, we’ll have to read up on how to do that.

Around the same time, we fell in love with Pleasantville and signed a contract to build a new house. At this point, the house had a garage full of wood and a skeleton of a shed in the back yard. We also looked around the house and realized there was a lot to be done before we could compete with other houses that were for sale.

We got to work, but it is slow and tedious when you have two kids who are almost three and one. In fact, the progress was so slow, I had to call my dad. He lives in Wisconsin and gave up his vacation to Niagara Falls to make the trip down and finish the shed and get the deck started. Between my father-in-law and my dad, the framing of the deck was done before my dad had to head back to Wisconsin – GOD BLESS THEM!!!

Then, Hubby broke his hand! The city inspector wanted a couple more piers poured under the deck. Rob was using a drill and auger bit to break up the dirt when he hit a rock. I had to get out there and finish the piers with my father-in-law's help. Yah, I’m a concrete pourin’, manual labor type, NOT!


Somehow, after the deck was completed, we still had a ton of wood left in the garage. Ken, Roxie, Hubby & I loaded up a couple of pick-up trucks (TWO trucks worth of wood!) and hauled it all back to Home Depot. There was so much involved a manager had to get involved. I had no receipts since I had bought the wood almost two years earlier. I was so embarrassed. Thank goodness Roxie was there with me - it’s always better to be embarrassed with a friend. At least the wood in the garage was gone.

Anyway, with all the work to get the house up to snuff, we didn’t get it on the market until June of 2007. By then, the market had started to get a little weak so we decided to sell it by owner in order to avoid the 6% realtor fees. I swear the day we put it on the market, the bottom dropped out of the real estate biz.

Despite several drops in price, we were unable to sell before our closing date (September 2007).

We were fortunate to find renters right away so we didn’t have two house payments. They moved out at the end of April and, again, by the grace of God, we got new renters without any time lapse.

These guys were so interested in the house, they put down new mulch, planted some bushes, painted the inside of the garage (where there was drywall), and laid tile in the master bathroom. We thought for sure they would buy it when their lease was up.

Unfortunately, being in the military, they received notice of probable deployment somewhere. Not a good time to be buying a house.

Here we go again.

With the help of a friend, we decided to sell the house via Lease to Own. I was very skeptical that anyone would buy the house at our asking price, even with seller financing. But we got a call the day after we advertised it (which was just this past Sunday).

Heaven and her husband came to look at it on Monday and signed a lease with option to purchase on Tuesday. Now, they either have to buy the house (at our current price) at the end of their lease or they lose their deposits, which are pretty substantial, and the house. So as long as they fulfill their end of the bargain, the house is sold. What a relief!

I have no doubt, God sent me Heaven.

I guess this isn’t a “Laugh” story, just an “I feel good” story that I had to share.


Silver lining:

1. The responsibility of maintaining two houses is gone.
2. We will actually make a small profit on the house; after bracing ourselves for taking a loss.
3. A huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders and I slept like a rock last night.
4. Through blood, sweat, and a lot of tears, the saga is almost over & I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.
5. Despite four years of calamity, we’re still happily married.

Were You Born In A Barn?

I’m sure spring is just around the corner. It was almost 80 on St. Patty’s day, cooler today, but the weekend looks great! Tulips are starting to come up. The air is fresh & crisp. I have to say “Sorry,” to my Northern friends – your snow may not melt for another three months & I’ll be enjoying the return of my summer color.

The problem with this time of year is exterior doors tend to stay open, especially when you’re just running in & out for “a second.” We have a double standard in our house. Hubby and I can leave the door open, but when the kids do it, that common expression is heard, “What were ya, born in a barn, aye?”

I’ve never heard any one say, “Yah. What’s it to ya?” Fortunately, neither one of my kids can say yes. Although, in anticipation of this expression being uttered, we should have had a cardboard cut-out of a barn over my belly during the birth. That would have been pretty funny – pretty fricken’ weird too.

I could go into a full blown description of the scene, but I’ll let you use your imagination. Tell me about in the comments below.

Anyway, on such a leaving-the-door-open occasion, we ended up with a visitor. As we were all leaving for the day (7:30AM), my oldest daughter had to run back inside because she forgot to feed our bird, George. Hubby went with her; therefore, the adult-leaving-the-door-open-is-ok clause was in affect.

I was busy buckling my youngest daughter into her car seat & my back was to the front door. Hubby & Cupie were at the back of the house feeding the bird. That’s why none of us saw the sparrow fly into the house through the open front door.

To make it worse, no one found out about the sparrow until 11PM that night!

Cupie has a tendency to cry as she’s running to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Hubby & I were still downstairs watching TV so I ran up to make sure she made it and calm her down. I sat on the edge of the tub and stroked her hair & wiped away the tears. When Cupie got off the toilet, in the faint glow of the nightlight, I noticed something BIG in the toilet.

I thought, “For cryin’ out loud. What did Stinkles put in the toilet now?” Good thing I was right there. We have those crappy builder grade toilets that stop up if you don’t flush between pooping & dropping the toilet paper in. I can only imagine the mess this “thing” would have caused.

I had to turn on the light so I could see what I was dealing with. When I did, I yelled down to Hubby, “Hubby, get up here!”

Hubby’s first thought was, “How big a turd could it be? Ooo, maybe it’s psychedelic in color!” Understand, he knew nothing of the bird (bird/turd – that rhymes, hee, hee – gee I’m mature, aren’t I?) so he thought if there was something to see in the toilet, it had to be a GIGANTIC poop or be rainbow swirled with neon colors. Dude, unless you’ve been tripping on magic shrooms, neon swirl should not be the first thing popping into your head.

So that I didn’t freak Cupie out anymore than I already did, I sent her to bed quickly.

Hubby arrived to see the amazing poop. Boy, was he disappointed.

We both stood over the toilet looking down. I don’t know what we were thinking – that the bird would just wake up after being peed on and fly out??? What a mess that would have been. I’m picturing the same effect as a dog getting out of a lake and “shakin’ it out” – water goes everywhere & reaks, right? Bird, pee bath, wings a flappin’ – EEEEWWWWWWW!

How the heck were we going to get it out of the toilet & what were we going to do with it???

I wasn’t sticking my hands in the toilet. They don’t make rubber gloves thick enough to entice me to pick up a pee-soaked, dead bird.

After searching the kitchen, I came up with a pair of barbeque tongs & five Wal-Mart bags.

Up in the bathroom, I handed the tongs to Hubby and held open the five-ply Wal-Mart bag.

“What am I supposed to do with this!?!?”

“Use the tongs to get the bird out & put it in here.” I thrust the bag at him. Like, duh!

He looked in the toilet and slowly reached his hand forward. Then, he quickly pulled back. Slowly reach forward, pull back quickly, slowly reach forward . . .

This went on for a bit before I asked him, “WHAT are you doing?”

“I just can’t do it!”

I grabbed the tongs & gave him the Wal-Mart bag. I dove in, got the bird, put it in the bag, left the tongs in the bag, snatched the bag back & took the whole kit-n-kaboodle down to the trash bucket (the one outside, not the kitchen trash).

Leave it to the woman to ultimately take care of things – GIRL POWER!!

Silver lining:

1. Thank God it wasn’t George – that would have scarred us all for life.


2. Cupie doesn’t really know what was in the toilet so we haven’t scarred her for life (at least not with this incident – there are plenty of other events she can discuss with her therapist later).


3. Hubby’s excited – he’s getting a new set of BBQ tongs!

The Taste That Creates Smiling Eyes

Let’s be frank – the economy is in the crapper. We’ve been tightening our belts despite what the administration wants us to do. It’s bad enough they are using my tax dollars to take care of the messes of other people, but don’t expect me to voluntarily put my own family at risk to “do my part to stimulate the economy” by spending any more than I need to.

I’m done with that soap box. I’ll get back to the real story.

We like to get Chinese take-out on occasion, but since we’re tightening our belts, Hubby’s decided to attempt making his favorite menu items at home.
Some of the ingredients are not found in your average, every day grocery store. Fortunately, there are some Oriental grocery stores in the area. There is an “East Oriental” grocery on Olive Blvd, but the “East East Oriental” grocery was closer to his office.

I guess that naming philosophy is on par with the 1st Baptist Church of X Community. I’ve never seen a 2nd Baptist Church of X Community (although there is/was a 3rd Baptist Church down on Grand Ave). If another Baptist Church is building in the area, it seems they find some way to make it a “1st” Baptist Church. There could be a 1st Baptist Church of X Community, 1st Riverside Baptist Church, and 1st Family of God Baptist Church all within a mile of each other. The important thing is that they are the “First”.

But I digress again.

The variety of rice was almost overwhelming. But the sheer quantity of rice was over the top. There were bags of rice as big as the 25lb Purina Dog Food bags! Everything seemed so bizarre – there were oodles of rice cookers and five pound bags of crushed red pepper (I think the bottle we have in the spice drawer is more than a year old and that’s only one ounce).

One hard to find ingredient was pure rice vinegar. After sweating it a bit, the East East Oriental grocery store did not disappoint. They had one brand of pure rice vinegar. He swears up and down that he did not pick this one out on purpose, but that it was the only one available.

First, I would like to point out the red oval with the “this-is-why-I’m-so-special” wording on it.

“Made from fine Soft Water”: I understand this. Soft water is devoid of pesky minerals that can affect the taste. But, why is soft water capitalized? Is that a brand of water? I have soft water in my house, but I don’t ask my friends if they would like a glass of “Soft Water” like I would if it were a bottle of Aquafina.

“Mild & round vinegar”: This I don’t get. What the hell is “round” vinegar?

Moving on, take a look at the actual bottle:

Now, sound out the name.

All I can say is if it is that good, maybe we shouldn’t keep it in the kitchen.



Silver lining:

1. God Bless my husband for taking our budget seriously. Making it at home is almost always cheaper.


2. We should all take a multi-cultural field trip once in awhile. This experience reminded me of the time I went into a Mexican grocery store, and they had fried pork rinds the size of a small child.

Burn, Burn, Burn

Just when you think you know it all, you learn something new. Did you know there are instructions on the side of the Arm & Hammer baking soda box for making a fizzy “drink” to relieve heartburn? Well, there is. I’ve pretty much only used baking soda to bake, clear a stopped up drain and make corks pop off test tubes.

These are the things you learn from a friend who has more life experience than you. And more guts!

At a recent lunch, my friend was relaying her weekend experience with heartburn. Her problem was getting the gas out. The last (and only) time I had it, I kept belching up the gas – that was disgusting! I think I’d rather deal with her problem.

She had made a chuck roast for dinner and her & her husband ate somewhat late. A few hours later, the heartburn started, and she couldn’t get a belch to come up (guys don’t have this problem; they are taught the “art” of belching on command in elementary school). When she couldn’t stand it any more, it was time to look some for relief.

To the medicine cabinet! There were no Tums, no Alka Seltzer, no Rolaids, no Pepto.

To the kitchen! Ah, ha! Here, we had some options.

The first option was a bottle of white soda still sitting around from Christmas. However, it may or may not be fizzy.

The second option was the huge box of Arm & Hammer baking soda near the stove. According to my friend, she keeps it close to the stove so it is handy for cooking and in case of a fire. The box was almost empty (she must have a lot of fires), but she checked the side of the box to see how much baking soda to use in water to make a carbonated drink. In reviewing the side of the box, she noted there were precautions regarding the interaction between the baking soda and certain types of medications. It didn’t list any medications, and it was too late to call her doctor to find out.

She looked at the bottle of white soda again.

Then, she went to the refrigerator to see if there was anything all the way in the back. I’m sure there was lots of stuff in the back. There’s plenty of green stuff in mine that would make you feel worse than the heartburn. But, hey, you wouldn’t be worried about the heartburn any more. There still wasn’t anything that would work in the fridge.

How about the pantry? Nope, nothing there.

Back to the baking soda. She must really hate white soda for the baking soda option to look more appealing. She looked at the box again and thought the likelihood of there being an interaction between the baking soda and the medications she was taking were pretty slim. However, now she made a new observation. The expiration date on the box was well past – like, two years past. Making a baking soda & water drink was no longer an option – never mind that she’s been using that same baking soda in recipes and feeding it to her family.

The only thing left was the white soda. She shook the bottle (yah, wise idea when you might need to open it in a second) and fizz appeared. Relief at last! She would have been back to bed so much sooner had she done this first. I guess this revelation is just one more of those life experiences she can pass on to us younger folk.


Silver lining:

1. Home remedies are almost always cheaper than store bought meds. I wonder if this would work with Crystal Light. I’ve heard it counts as intake of water.

2. Try the simplest solution first – shake the bottle (gently). Fizz = good, no fizz = not so good.

Cupie's Tooth Saga - Part 2

Do you believe in fairies? If you believe, clap your hands! . . . Clap your hands and say, 'I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!'" ~ Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie

After we finally got Cupie’s first tooth out (click here read that story first), we had to prepare for the tooth fairy. We got out her plastic tooth holder (it’s about half an inch high, looks like a tooth & has a cap that snaps on) and put the tooth in. She was having a grand time shaking the tooth holder and making a generally annoying noise with it.

We headed directly down the hall to get tucked into bed for the night. I got Ellie in her bed first, and then I went across the hall to Cupie’s room. I could see her chin quivering and as soon as she opened her mouth, the tears started flowing – she lost the tooth! She had the holder, but the tooth was gone. She swore up & down that she didn’t open the holder and it was still in the holder when she left my bedroom.

She was sitting on the bed so we stripped the bed – nothing. I needed to pull the trundle out, but first I had to clear some space on the floor. I shook each stuffed animal, blanket, rug, Barbie doll, slipper, book, & kitchen sink in the room before moving it out to the hall or the closet. With the trundle out, I lifted the mattress and each slat – still nothing.

I got out the cordless sweeper. At least it had a little dirt collector we could sift through. I swept up every loose carpet fiber and any other bits & pieces on her floor. Then I got a trash can and made her help me sift through the stuff. We found beads, stickers with no sticky, a Barbie shoe, and (super gross) a toe nail clipping. Still no tooth.

I’ll have to make my way backward – to the hall! We put the bed back together and brought in the stuff from the hall; shaking it all out again just in case. After sweeping the hall, we went through the sifting ritual again – no tooth.

I finally made my way back to my bedroom. After moving Rob’s pile of dirty clothes, several receipts he accumulated on his nightstand (the pocket emptying ritual), and a pair of shoes, I found the tooth wedged up against the foot of the nightstand. Hmmmm, didn’t she swear it was in the tooth holder when she left my room? Must be a magical tooth – it can disappear out of a closed box and appear somewhere far from the location of the disappearance. David Copperfield should include this tooth in his act. Maybe I’ll write him a letter. Better yet, I’ll find his e-mail and just send him a blog link – I’m sure he personally reads all his e-mail and opens every attachment and web link included in the e-mails. NOT!

Since the tooth disappeared once already, I now had a dilemma. Cupie’s bed is right up against the wall and there is a trundle under it. If the tooth rolls out from under her pillow behind her bed, there is no way I was going to be able to play Tooth Fairy without waking her up. My solution was to put the tooth under her pillow, but inside the pillowcase.

This really worried Cupie. What if the Tooth Fairy couldn’t find it? Apparently, that pesky pillowcase would be in the way when the Tooth Fairy slid her hand across the fitted sheet & under the pillow. There would be no tooth! Cupie wanted me to write a note for the Tooth Fairy telling her exactly where the tooth was. It had to be taped to her bedpost right by her pillow. That's just what I wanted to do – stick scotch tape on her wood bedpost.

I went all the way down to the kitchen to get out a pad of paper to write the note. This was an adventure. The little notebook I keep in the junk drawer had notes on almost all the pages. I had to flip through page by page (by this time it is past 9:00 and I had TV to watch!) until I found a blank sheet in the middle. I must have a tendency to start at the beginning or the end when grabbing it for notes. I don’t rip out the pages until they are used up on both sides – call me frugal, I don’t care.

Cupie’s note said:

DEAR TOOTH FAIRY,

MY TOOTH IS UNDER MY PILLOW, BUT IT IS INSIDE THE PILLOW CASE.

CUPIE

She signed it herself – I wrote the rest. We would have been there until 10:00 had I let her write the entire note. She was finally happy with the tooth situation and crawled into bed.

At about 1:00 I snuck into her room to put the golden dollar under her pillow and take the tooth to a super secret spot. Since the tooth was in the plastic holder, I had to take it out of her room to open it. I didn’t want her waking up to find me standing there with her tooth & money. That would be just great – ruin the magic on my first Tooth Fairy adventure. I snuck back in her room and left the plastic tooth holder & money under the pillow (in the pillowcase, of course).

When I got up in the morning, Hubby asked if I had taken the note. Doh! I had forgotten. Unless I wanted to put up the note every time she lost a tooth, I had to go get it. For the third time, I entered her room. I snatched the note and hoped I didn’t wake her up. This was supposed to be an in and out operation. Instead I had to risk my daughter’s happiness and my sanity three times.

Next time we won’t have the note issue. Cupie thinks the Tooth Fairy took it to put in her file for future reference. We’re going to have to do something about that tooth holder, though.


Silver lining: Cupie was so excited Tuesday morning. It sounded like a buffalo running down the hall. She turned the corner into our room with her hair flying and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face. That alone was worth all the hassle.

Cupie's Tooth Saga - Part 1

Do you believe in fairies? If you believe, clap your hands! . . . Clap your hands and say, 'I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!'" ~ Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie

Three weeks ago, we discovered Cupie had a loose tooth. It wiggled just a little bit, but it was definitely loose – not our over active adult imagination about getting to see your child’s next milestone.

An urgent plea went out to all I knew who had school age children. What’s the going rate????

Turns out, it’s a dollar. Some people do something special for the first tooth, but Cupie would have been disappointed when the next tooth came out and the Tooth Fairy didn’t perform as well. One of the responders said they had heard of $20 a tooth! What?? That’s a mouth worth 400 bucks. Their baby teeth are precious, but there is no way they are worth that much; especially when those first few teeth come out in quick succession.

Anyway, it took three more weeks so I guess I didn’t have to go into over-drive about the amount. She’s reached another milestone in this great game of life. For me, it is a double edged sword – I’m excited for her, but sad for me. Another piece of my baby is gone.

That’s enough sap – on to the funny stuff!

So on Saturday, Cupie says she really wants her tooth to come out. I told her that she needed to have patience and it would eventually come out. But she started whining about how it was bothering her so I steered her toward the bathroom. I didn’t want her bleeding all over the carpet (as if tooth paste wasn’t bad enough – blood would really leave a mark). I told her to start wiggling the tooth hard, but she was being a total wuss about it.

“Do you want me to try?” I asked her. She nodded her head and I tried to get a grip on it to pull and/or twist. That got a yelp and tears, but there was blood so I accomplished something. What kind of mother am I? I made my child bleed – yay!

After she calmed down a bit, I asked her if she wanted me to try again. She really wanted that tooth out so she agreed. The tooth is too small to get a finger grip on so I had to consider my options.

I’ve heard in the olden days, they tied a string around the tooth, attached the other end to a door, and slammed the door to get the tooth to pop out quickly. There are three things that prevented me from choosing this option. (1) I’m sure Cupie wouldn’t go for a string in her mouth nor do I think she would sit still long enough for me to tie it on. (2) Say I'm wrong about #1 and the tooth comes flying out and gets lost. (3) Again, say I'm wrong about #1 and it wouldn’t work and she’d hate me for the pain I inflicted.

Next option, get the needle nose pliers to get a better grip on the tooth. This was dismissed – you ever accidentally get the metal from a tool in your mouth? It’s bitter! Besides, if it didn’t work, I’d probably damage the enamel and with my luck, the tooth wouldn’t fall out until it rotted out.

I decided to go with just a good pull. I hooked my index finger over the tooth and quickly contracted my finger while pulling with my arm. I heard something pull loose, but didn’t come all the way out. I got a full blown scream and a ton of tears. She wouldn’t let me anywhere near her mouth after that.

She eventually calmed down because she had a new game to play – let’s push my tooth out with my tongue, then pull it back in! The things that delight a five-year-old (insert your own eye roll here).

This little game went on until Monday when she was playing with her tooth and it just fell out.


Finally! That saga is over.

Now, we had to prepare for the tooth fairy. . .

TO BE CONTINUED



Silver Lining:

1. Her teacher at pre-school was kind enough to put the tooth in a sealed envelope instead of letting Cupie hold on to it.


2. I had, had three weeks to prepare for the Tooth Fairy so I was ready - or so I thought

My Leg Lamp

My girls really like “A Christmas Story”. The one where “You’ll shoot you’re eye out!”

We had Ken, Roxie & their girls over for dinner recently and the girls wanted to watch it. I decided, “Whatever. Never mind that Christmas was two months ago.” And turned it on. Even though they like the movie, they quickly got distracted and were off to play dress-up. Did we turn the movie off? No way!

All the adults can almost recite it line by line – it’s a great movie! We all have our favorite part. Mine is “The Leg Lamp”.

Now, if you’ve never seen the movie, you are truly missing out. Never the less, I’ll fill you in.

The Old Man (he isn’t given a name, he’s just “Old Man” – really, that’s how it is in the credits), gets notification that he has won a major award. He has no idea what it is, but he’s ecstatic none the less. When it finally arrives, it’s in a crate labeled “Fragile”. Old Man pronounces it “Fra-GEE-lay” and thinks it’s something Italian. Anyone who has seen the movie knows what it means when someone describes an item as “fra-GEE-lay”. Old Man opens the crate, digs around, and pulls out a lamp.

A lamp sounds harmless enough, but this is a life-size plastic leg, complete with a high heeled shoe and fishnet stockings. I could see how this would be something Italian – Italian whore house maybe, but Italian. The lampshade accompanying the lamp is black with fringe on it – I think it is supposed to look like a skirt.

Old Man puts it in the front picture window for all, to the horror of the mom (again, no name), to see. One day the mom is watering the plants and “accidently” tips the lamp over and it breaks into a bunch of pieces. “Was it an accident? No one will ever know, but the saga of the lamp will be discussed and debated in the Parker family for years to come!”

That same line is repeated in our family (we replace Parker with Covey). You see, I have my own leg lamp so to speak.

It’s really a boot.

Some time ago, Hubbys’s mom gave him a boot Christmas ornament. That first Christmas together, I opted not to put the boot on the tree. It didn’t fit the “theme” I was going for (mostly Disney ornaments), and at the time, it wasn’t really my taste. This happened for a couple of years before Hubby actually asked me about it. I explained, but he insisted it go on the tree. Fine.

A year later, when we got out the Christmas decorations, the boot was in the ornament box – BROKEN! I could swear up & down that I did not break it, but Rob would not believe me.

I got away with leaving the broken boot in the box for a couple more years (he wouldn’t let me throw it away), before I finally got out the glue. We had had glue for quite some time as I had not used it all up on purpose. Why he didn’t get the glue out himself, I just don’t know.

After repairing the boot with great care, I was going to place it on the tree. By now Disney was not the theme because we had slowly acquired several bright & colorful non-Disney ornaments. I start out placing ornaments here & there haphazardly. As I get further along, I fill in bare spots. It just so happened there was a bare spot on the side of the tree. Of course, this was the perfect spot for the bone of contention, “The Boot”.

Boy did I get an earful for that! He insisted that I move it to front & center – to prove forevermore that I did not break the boot on purpose.

Now, it’s an annual game – to him. He watches me put up ornaments every year and always reminds me to put up the boot – front & center. Considering he doesn’t help put up the Christmas ornaments, I’ll tell you where I’d like to stick a boot (but not “The Boot”) – backside center!

Silver lining:
1. I have grown to appreciate the boot over the years. I only pretend to not want to put it in the front.

2. We have one of the weirdest Christmas traditions.

3. Hubby at least helps me get the tree & decoration boxes out of the basement - the tree is heavy!

Game On!

WARNING - May contain graphic content (if you have your mind in the gutter)!!

The 2008 football season is finally over!!!!

I may have been raised in Green Bay, but I am not much of a football fan. That’s a feat all in itself. You are bombarded with football references every day, every place you go. Merchandise is available statewide and business three hours away still use “Packerland” in their names or “Home of the Packers” in their tag lines.

Living in a suburb of Green Bay, the Packers are even more prominent. Players lived in the condos behind our house and went through my check out lane in the local grocery store. My high school colors were even green & gold. For many Wisconsin babies, their first words are, “Green Bay Packers”. I will always be a Packer fan – it’s a requirement; otherwise, I will lose my inheritance. That doesn’t mean I have to actually like the game.

You would think the Superbowl would be the close of the season, but I guess the Probowl has to be held afterward. I suppose no one wants to get hurt in a “for fun” game right before the “BIG” game. We didn’t watch the Probowl because we forgot it was on (after the Superbowl, who thinks of football anymore?), but we did have a Superbowl party.

I was trying to host an impartial party. I made sure I had a balloon bouquet for each team. Each one had a mylar football – the Steelers had black & gold latex; the Cardinals got red & white latex. How gay is that – a football party with balloon bouquets? That was the extent of my decorating specifically for a football game and I had bouquets???? Good grief!

I, the impartial one, also made sure I was wearing a black shirt and a red bracelet. Actually, that just kind of happened but it worked as an example of my impartiality. At one point someone made a comment about taking my shirt off if the Steelers started losing. Sorry guys, I had on a black bra too – I was committed to being impartial. Some people might think I just need to be committed, but that’s a whole other story.

With Kurt Warner’s St. Louis history, I really felt obligated to rooting for the Cardinals. Besides, almost everyone else was rooting for them. Mike was one lone Steelers fan. Fortunately, he had changed his underwear that day. Apparently, he had been red underwear the day before. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be labeled a flip-flopper or a fair weather fan. Had he been found out, I guess he could have gone with the ‘wardrobe malfunction’ argument. Ah, all was well – he made clothing choices that suited his best interests.

Good times, I must say. Especially, when there is plenty of penetration. That was the word of the night. Honestly, John Madden had to have said it about every frickin’ play. If we had known and made a drinking game of it, we all would have been three sheets to the wind before the end of the first quarter.

“Warner keeps getting caught up in the snapper’s foot. That’s no way to get penetration.”

“That was good penetration there. You see how he plowed right through?”

“Good penetration got Santonio Holmes to the 10 yard-line so he could go for the reach around and get that ball!”

“They need about six inches to get to the goal. Some penetration should accomplish that.”

“You know, Al, what the Cardinals need right now is a play with good penetration that will score them some points.”

It’s that kind of insight that gets John Madden the big bucks. I mean, no kidding, you need a play that will score some points? Is that how this game goes?

I guess if there is penetration, you will score.

Silver lining:
1. While the final score was Steelers 27, Cardinals 23, Hubby won 25 bucks in the office pool.
2. I popped the Steelers balloons and tied them to Mike’s car a few days later – that felt good!

Minty Fresh

My youngest daughter, aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgh!

Last night, as we were putting the girls to bed, I froze in my tracks. Outside the laundry room door, ON THE CARPET, was a bright blue spot about a bazillion inches across. Well maybe it was only four inches, but it was quite large. Especially, when you realize it is Crest Gel toothpaste.

It took awhile longer, but after I had tucked Stinkles into bed, I came to understand the full extent of her sassiness.

Stinkles is a red-head and has the stereotypical attitude, temperament, and personality to go along with it. She is stubborn, prone to tantrums and can be generally mischievous. She thinks defiance is funny. Most of this can be blamed on the fact that she is three-years-old, but some of it is just Stinkles, being Stinkles. My life is going to be a living hell when she’s a teenager – I can feel it.

Anyway, Hubby got out the little carpet cleaner machine and got to work on the spot. As he worked on the spot a minty smell wafted through the air. Much better than the poop, pee or puke we normally have to clean up with the machine.

I got Stinkles to her room and into bed. That’s when I saw her “baby sisters” propped up at the end of her bed with a little plate from the play kitchen in front of them. On the plate was a mound of toothpaste. When I say mound, I mean mound – it looked like she was trying to feed them spaghetti with meatballs on top.

To further the sassiness, she had a Dixie cup of water next to each of them as well as one for herself on top of a pile of books next to her bed. We have a "children do not take food or drink out of the kitchen or dining areas" rule - NO EXCEPTIONS! At least she had the sense to put the one cup of water on a hard surface.

If it wasn’t so sweet of her to take such good care of her babies, I would still be mad at her this morning. As it was, she woke up this morning, immediately gave us a hug, and, in her little voice (she’s very soft spoken; Kate was “blessed” with my voice that carries five miles), said “I love you.”


Silver lining:
1. The toothpaste did not bleach out the carpet.

2. She can turn on the “cute” factor and melt your heart in an instant – maybe that’s not a good thing, hmmmm.

3. You gotta admire her creativity. Instead of putting an empty plate in front of them or using some piece of plastic food from the play kitchen, she found a way to give her babies something real.

Houston, We Have A Problem

We're experiencing a heat wave in St. Louis - 43 degrees on Wednesday; possible 55 degrees today! Compared to the icy wind of the last week or so, this is balmy. Everyone is breaking out their shorts and t-shirts, running up to the volleyball courts and getting out the fishing poles only to find there is still a skating rink open over the sand and ice mostly covers the lakes.

Honestly, this weather couldn't be more inconvenient for me - our deep freeze may be dying. With it warming up, I can't get a bunch of coolers & ice together so I can put it all in the garage.

After the kids are in bed, we (Hubby and I) selfish adults like to have "scoop". This is a custard cup (6 oz.) full of orange sherbet - and I mean full, as in how high can I pile the sherbet on before it falls over and makes a mess? Really, you would think we could admit to ourselves that if we wanted that much sherbet, perhaps a larger bowl would be in order. Nope, not us. As long as it's only a custard cup, we're being prudent in our calorie intake.

We usually keep this "healthy" ice cream alternative in the upstairs freezer so it is easier to scoop out; thus, easier to create skyscrapers of sherbet. However, to our dismay, on Tuesday night, a new container had to be retrieved from the deep freeze. That was a bummer because when the sherbet is rock hard, we give up on trying to scoop out a lot and only have an actual cup.

When Hubby began to dish up the sherbet with ease, my first thought was, "Why is that so easy?" A not so good feeling started to form in my stomach. I pointed this anomaly out to Hubby, we looked at each other, then immediately headed for the basement.

I opened the freezer and there was still a three inch layer crust of ice around the top edge and cold air was coming out. It was weird though because some stuff was really frozen and others were starting to melt. Granted, the melty stuff was mostly items that defrosts quickly - sherbet, frozen orange concentrate, frozen lime concentrate, frozen lemon concentrate, frozen daiquiri concentrate. We concentrate a lot.

I got an empty storage tub and started loading it up. I grabbed all the concentrate first because we use that to make our lime-berry smash & famous margaritas - can't be losin' ingredients for that! Then, I went for the Butterbraids - you can't get those just anywhere, ya know. And finally I picked up the chicken, pork steak, hamburger, fish sticks (kids - you gotta feed them), etc.

We found all kinds of stuff at the bottom of the freezer. There was at least one package of bulk chicken that had busted open and was all freezer burned. There were packages of meats and side items that said they were best if eaten by July of 1981. We found a box of long forgotten Girl Scout cookies - I didn't care what the "best if" date was, we were keeping those. Four boxes of Texas Toast garlic bread were hidden in there - four boxes!!! We even found Elvis! Kidding on that last one, but suffice it to say a freezer cleaning was a little over due.

Spacial girl (that's me - I specialize in filing nooks & crannies - could I put that on a resume, "Spacial Specialist"?) got the majority of the savable food in the upstairs freezer, sent two bags of unsavable/undesirable food to the trash can, and put the remaining savable food in Ken & Roxie's freezer. Thank goodness really good friends live right around the corner - who else can you call at 10pm with this kind of crisis? Although we took all of Roxie's ice, it was for a good cause - meatballs and pierogies are irreplaceable.

Had I still lived in Wisconsin, we could have just put everything into a snow bank outside the back door. As long as the Bumpes' dogs don't get your Christmas turkey, you're good. Honestly, I'm not sure anyone has a deep freeze up there. Why pay for something to take up space in your basement/garage, when nature provides a free one nine months out of the year?

Anyway, when Hubby asked me what we were having for dinner Wednesday night, I immediately said, "Spaghetti - we have four boxes of Texas Toast to eat."

Dinner was served with three pieces of toast per person. Just kidding, I don't want to waste yummy garlic bread! And, dang it, no meatballs - I forgot there were in Roxie's freezer.

Now, how else can we use up the Texas Toast (only 26 more slices to go)? Make dinners consisting of chili, lasagna, mastacolli, or any other Italian dish. Cut it up into little pieces & call it an "appetizer" for Bunco group? Oo, oo, we can string a piece in each window and the exterior doors to ward off vampires. I suppose the possibilities are endless.

Silver lining:

1. The appliance stores didn't have any financing deals we liked or applied to our purchase so we decided we would eat up the food we had and wait for a better deal. Another thought was to save and pay cash for a new freezer. Save? Cash? Foreign concepts for sure.

2. After not buying a freezer we realized we could try to save the freezer we have by fully defrosting it (it is more than five years old and it's never been defrosted) and then checking the freon levels. What a "duh!" moment. As in "Duh, try to fix something before you throw it away." If it works, God was definitely watching out for us on this one. If it doesn't work, God still gave us the good sense to realize a deep freeze is nice, but not a necessity.

I'm Goin' For Grass!

When my mother lived in St. Louis, she lived in a subdivision that had some pretty flat areas. My sister had just gotten K2 rollerblades and was having so much fun. I happened to find a pair of rollerblades at Gordmon’s and decided to pay the $40 for them and join her.

I started out with a wobble but soon got the hang of it. I was thinking it was going to be kind of like roller skating; where you push a few times, then you glide for a bit. It was nothing like roller skating.

I had to push the entire time – there was absolutely no gliding. Sissy kept skating ahead and then coming back for me. As it was I hated her for being a size five, but now I had to deal with my baby sister skating circles around me. By the time I got home I was super sweaty and completely exhausted. I never wanted to look at a pair of rollerblades ever again – what a stupid “sport”!

As I was relating this story to Hubby (we were dating at the time), he took a look at my rollerblades. Apparently, you get what you pay for. A $40 pair of rollerblades gets you crap wheels.

He wanted to take up rollerblading as well so we headed over to the Sports Authority. I was really only going to support him, but he convinced me to try on a pair of K2’s. He wanted me to feel the difference. They were so smooth! We ended dropping about $300.

We got back to my mom’s and immediately strapped on our new skates (and knee pads, elbow pads, and helmet). Like I said my mom’s subdivision has a lot of area that is flat – or so it appears. Until you are a novice on super smooth rollerblades, you don’t realize how “steep” a 3% grade is.

We worked our way to the back of the subdivision – pushing and gliding. This was much more fun. We turned around to come back and hit the grade. I was doing ok at first, but it was a long “hill” so I kept gaining speed. I had no confidence in my ability to turn at this speed and had no idea how to stop.

It didn’t take long to weigh my options – crash on the rough pavement or crash on someone’s lawn. Hmmmm, pavement or grass? I decided on the grass and shouted back to Hubby, “I’M GOIN’ FOR GRASS!”

There weren’t actual curbs, just a slope from the road to the lawn so I figured I would just slide up and then make myself fall. That slope definitely led me to the lawn. I hit the edge of the road and flew up in the air! Fortunately, I was still moving forward so I fell into the grass – flat on my ass!

While landing in the grass instead of the road was better, I got news for you, “Grass is not a soft landing spot!”

Silver lining:
1. I eventually got better and could manage the long path around Creve Coeur Lake with a hill that is actually steep.
2. Nothing was broken. I haven’t gone rollerblading for several years. If I went now, I’d be a bit rusty. If I took a fall like this now, I might break a hip.
3. I learned that I am no good at judging the impact of an angle in the path a moving object (that would be me).

The Head Fake

At Carnegie-Mellon University, it is somewhat of a tradition for departing professors to give their “last lecture” to a public audience. In 2007, one of their professors, Randy Pausch, was dying of pancreatic cancer and delivered a (now quite famous) last lecture – so much so that the term “last lecture” has become synonymous with his presentation that day. In case you’ve never seen it, the link is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo It’s a little over an hour in length, but it’s a very good presentation – definitely worth watching.

Anyway, one of the things he talks about is the “head fake”. Essentially, it’s the art of distraction – getting you to pay attention to one thing, while something entirely different is happening on the side, such as with an illusionist. Now that you know what the term means, you’ll understand the title a bit more. You see, we went out to dinner with my mother-in-law over the weekend, and she didn’t want to become the subject of one of my blogs. So, on Monday, I published something entirely different, knowing full well that I was going to be publishing this one later in the week. Therein lies the head fake.

My brother-in-law, Steve, and I have birthdays in January. Every year, my mother & father-in-law graciously take the adults out for a nice dinner. This year was at Kitaro, a hibachi restaurant where the chef cooks your food right in front of you.

We did not all arrive at the same time (they only seat your entire party) so there was a little time to belly up to the bar. My in-laws had already had a couple of drinks, but there was one in particular they said was really good and the bartender was just itchin’ to make it. The “Volcano” is billed as a two person drink. Thinking it was something like a fishbowl margarita, I told her I could take it on myself. She raised her eyebrows and went to make the drink.

Dude, it was sooooo cool. Obviously, she didn’t believe me when I said could drink it myself because it came with two super long straws. But the niftiest feature was the flame in the center. That’s right, the drink was on fire! I took one long sip and made the “whah” pucker face and shivered. It was pure alcohol. This must be a standard reaction because the bartender was standing by with a cup of juice. She asked if we wanted juice poured in (only an alcoholic would say no). All I could do was nod my head because my face was still contorted in the pucker.

After we were seated and ordered our drinks, my mother-in-law ordered some spring rolls as an appetizer. Apparently, there were a few too many made while they were at the bar so the bartender let them have them for free. She said they were really good and wanted us all to try them.

When the spring rolls arrived and were placed in front of her, she said, “Who ordered these?”

“You did.”

“I ordered these? Well, ok. Here, pass the plate for everyone.”

I did not want one so I didn’t even look at the plate, but apparently there was some kind of sauce.

Now, my sister-in-law has once or twice, at various meals, dirtied up the table cloth. Since then, there is always a comment telling her not to spill on the table cloth – fortunately, she is good natured enough to take a joke.

I tell you this because as the plate is being passed between my mother-in-law & sister-in-law, it got tipped and the sauce slid off. There wasn’t a table cloth so I guess my mother-in-law's plate was a good enough substitute. Needless to say, my mother-in-law needed a new plate.

During all this commotion, one of the straws from the Volcano fell to the floor. Had this been a utensil or a soda straw, we would request a new straw. But since it was going right back into the alcohol, we figured all the germs would be killed off. Besides, the five second rule was still in effect.

Our chef, Sam-I-Am (who likes green eggs & ham), was excellent! He was the most entertaining of all the chefs I could see. He was constantly clattering on the grill, flipping stuff up in the air and/or into his hat, making flames (more fire!) while cooking our food the entire time. I turned down the onion soup and grilled onions, but accepted the onion fried rice with no onions – he made it special for me.

While we were watching Sam-I-Am, I looked at Hubby and said, “He’s noisier than you.”

Hubby in turn said, “Yah. If I had a flat stove, I could do this.”

I thought, 'My ass, you could cook like this.'

Do you know how dirty my ceiling would be? Never mind the floor. We have a textured ceiling and I would never get all the eggs he flipped up in the air off it. As I think about it now, he may have been referring to the amount of noise he could make. Note to self: NEVER buy a flat stove.

At the end of Sam’s cooking show, he was tossing grilled shrimp at us. He used his spatula to flip it up and we were supposed to catch it with our mouths. He had really good aim, but none of us actually caught it with our mouths. My mother-in-law technically caught a shrimp. A hot shrimp hit my mother-in-law in the neck and bounced into her shirt so she did end up with a shrimp hickey and a little surprise for my father-in-law later.

Silver lining:
1. I am very blessed to have in-laws that I love and even like. And I think they generally like me, but after this, I might be in the dog house.
2. Dinner was fantastic, not to mention entertaining. Almost as entertaining as Thanksgiving at Hubby’s aunt & uncle’s.

My Mother-In-Law Didn't Want to be the Subject of Monday's Blog . .

. . . so I left her out of it.

Several years ago, Hubby had grilled some pork chops and was saving them for lunch during the week. My mom happened to be in town for a week and I took a week of vacation. Hubby was on call, but at home.

Mom was hungry, started looking in the refrigerator, and found the pork chops. She had hardly taken them out when Hubby practically pounced on them.

“These are for my lunch this week.”

“Well, could you share one with your mother-in-law?”

“No, I made these special for my lunch.”

Pitifully, my mom said, “All I ever wanted was a pork chop.”

Now, any time we can’t have what we want, that phase has a funny way of coming up.



Fast forward to this weekend.

On Friday night, we dropped the kids off at the “Parents Night Out Co-Op”. On the check-in table was a flyer for a great discount at the Brickhouse Bistro, we had nothing better to do, so we decided we would go there for dinner.

Hubby loves their pork chops and was salivating all the way over just thinking about it. We sat down, ordered a couple of beers and briefly looked over the menu. The biggest decision we had to make was what kind of appetizer we were going to get.

Our waitress was ready to take our order. Hubby could hardly wait and blurted out, “The pork chops, please.”

“Oooo, sorry, we’re out of pork chops.”

He was so deflated.

After the waitress left, he said, “All I ever wanted was a pork chop.”

All I have to say is “What goes around, comes around.”

Boy, am I due for a huge kick in the pants because of this blog.

Silver lining:
1. We had a nice dinner without kids constantly needing our attention or climbing all over us.
2. Fortunately, the eating experience this weekend would only get better. Saturday night, no kids (again), Kitaro’s – mmm – mmm – mmm – mmm – mmm!

I'm a Glutton for Punishment

Here I go again – thinking I’m organized enough to whip something up for an event!

A new Bunco group was starting up in New Town and in LI style, I wanted to bring something homemade.

I had just gotten a cookie press for Christmas. It’s super cool because it runs on batteries. The cookie press came with recipes for both cookies and appetizers/crackers.

I make cookies for my other Bunco group, but I didn’t want to do the same thing. So flipping through the recipes, I chose as appetizer called “Gougeres”.

That’s a fancy-schmancy way of saying Basil Cream Puffs! The recipe book even has them titled as Gougeres and in parentheses, Basil Cream Puffs. It’s like the Wilton people putting the recipe book together decided to include Gougeres, but the editor said it was too high faluntin’ when it’s really as simple as Basil Cream Puffs. I’m sure there was a huge outcry by the Julia Child Fan Club about this, and after heavy debate, a compromise was reached. The recipe would be titled “Gougeres (Basil Cream Puffs)”. There, I hope everyone is happy.

This Bunco group is on Thursdays so on Wednesday night I did the responsible thing and fetched all the dry ingredients we had in the kitchen and checked the supply of everything else. I made a tick mark by any ingredients I needed to buy at the grocery store. I wasn’t so responsible as to go out and actually buy these ingredients that same night. I was just going to do it on my way home Thursday.

The grand plan (in this order) was to:
* Bust it out of work right at five
* Stop at the IGA for ingredients
* Pick up the kids at daycare
* Get home & start the oven
* Cook up the dough, pipe the dough onto cookie sheets & throw them in the oven
* Make up the cream cheese spread
* Feed the kids PB&J
* Dig out the centers of the cream puffs & fill with cream cheese spread
* Head off to Bunco at 6:30-ish

Well, I didn’t leave work until almost 5:15. I pulled into the IGA parking lot & got out the recipe (to make sure I got all the tick marks). I needed parchment paper, cream cheese, dried chives, & goat cheese – GOAT CHEESE!?!?!?! Oh, crud! The IGA is good for staples and a decent selection of basic meats, but GOAT CHEESE??

The first three were fairly easy to find. In the cheese section of the dairy department, I found cheddar, American, mozzarella, Gouda, feta. A glimmer of hope rose up, but alas, no goat cheese.

For occasions such as this, I have the New Town Market, Marsalla’s, as a contact in my cell phone. I gave them a quick, frantic call and breathed a sigh of relief – they had goat cheese.

OK, I picked up the kids without incident (by some miracle), got the goat cheese and got straight to work as soon as I got home. The ovens were on and I started preparing the dough (which wasn’t as hard as I was lead to believe). I piped the dough onto cookie sheets, opened the oven to pop them in, but there were no racks!

Rob had cleaned the ovens a couple of nights ago and the racks were still sitting out. Fortunately, that was an easy fix.

Whew, I was in the home stretch. The rest of the process went pretty smoothly and I made it to Bunco just before seven. What an exciting (though time crunchily stressful) couple of hours!

Silver lining:
1. Thank heavens for Marsalla’s Market. They have saved me numerous times before.
2. I have a new recipe to share. Without a stressful time crunch, I would definitely make these again. http://lifemakesmelaugh.blogspot.com/2009/01/gougeres-basil-cream-puffs-herbed.html
3. At Bunco, I met some new people, got to know others better & had a grand time with my friends; new and old.

Gougeres (Basil Cream Puffs) & Herbed Cheese Spread

Basil Cream Puffs

Ingredients:
1 Cup Water
6 Tablespoons butter
¼ teaspoon salt
1 Cup all-purpose flour
4 eggs
½ cup Parmesan cheese
¼ teaspoon garlic powder
¼ teaspoon basil

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

Place water, butter & salt in medium saucepan and bring to a boil.

Lower the heat and add flour all at once.

Continue to cook, stirring constantly until the mixture leaves the sides of the pan and forms a ball.

Remove from heat, but keep it in the warm pan.

Add eggs one at a time. Make sure each egg is fully blended (no slime) before adding another one.

Stir in Parmesan cheese, garlic powder & basil.

Fill a cookie press or pastry bag with the dough.

Pipe dough into a spiral on prepared cookie sheet.

Bake 15-20 minutes or until puffed and golden brown.

After the puffs have cooled a little, push the centers down with your thumb and fill with dip of your choice.

Makes about two dozen.



Herbed Cheese Spread

Ingredients:
1 (8 oz) package cream cheese, softened
1 (4 oz) package goat cheese
1 teaspoon dried chives
1 teaspoon dried parsley flakes
½ teaspoon garlic powder

Place all ingredients in a food processor (or use a hand mixer) and process until smooth.

Using either a star tip on a pastry bag or cookie press, fill Basil Cream Puffs.

Makes about 1 cup of filling.

Rhymes with sit, fit, zit . . .

Cupie is in the goofy phrase/rhyming stage.

She says things like, “Twinkle, twinkle little house” and laughs hysterically.

She also makes up words like, “Whack-corn” – what is that?????

Lately, she has really gotten the concept of rhyming too. It’s not just the repetition & parroting of Dr. Seuss type books that you see from younger children. She is taking one word & figuring out what rhymes with it – sat, cat, mat, etc.

Saturday night, while I hosted Bunco, Hubby took the girls to McDonald's for dinner & to get a movie out of the Red Box. Now, Cupie was probably babbling on rhyming or thinking up goofy stuff and Rob wasn’t really paying attention until she asked him, “We’re going to get a tit movie, right?”

I’m sure the blue hairs sitting near the Red Box about had a heart attack!

Silver lining:
1. Hubby did explain that "tit" is not a word nice girls use.
2. They did not get a tit movie.
3. McDonald's Red Box does not carry tit movies.

Male Rationalization

When my husband asks me if he can have or do somthing, he has a habit of dancing around the subject. He usually gets me to agree to whatever it is before I really know what I'm agreeing to. So when I got the following phone call, my gut started sending up warning flares, alarms started blaring in my head and I swear I heard lightening strike.

RING, RING, RING

M: Hello

R: Hey, it's me. Is your mom still going to be there tonight?

M: Yah

Warning flares started going up!

R: Well, I didn't know if she was going to your sister's

M: Why? (still very suspicious)

R: If I could get Guitar Hero World Tour for $5.65, would you let me keep it?

M: All of it? Drums & all?

I'm totally thinking he's full of sh*t! There is no way he got a $190 game for less than $100, let alone less than $10. Besides, all those blasted alarms started going off!

R: Yup, all of it

M: And it works?

R: Yes

I could hear the glee in his voice. He's worse than a kid in a candy store sometimes.

M: Well, I guess so . . .

Lightening strikes!

R: Good, because I got $200 for putting up all those shelves today so the net, including tax, is only $5.65.

M: What if I said I would rather have the 200 bucks?

R: Apparently, you didn't listen to my earlier question. I asked if I could get it for $5.65, would let me keep it? Implying that I already had it.

M: (long sigh)

R: I LOVE YOU!

Silver lining:
1. I get to go over to Roxie's more often while the boys have "band" practice. (It doesn't start until after the kids are in bed - hee, hee)
2. Hubby doesn't use the stickers that are included to "decorate" the components so the girls got two lovely sticker sheets of skulls, flames, warriors, dragons & what-not.

The only problem with this "Rock Band" is finding a lead singer. I've heard most of the neighborhood guys try their hand at karaoke - yikes! However, if Dash could get off that second shift . . .

And a Beer . . .

I don’t know how it started, but the Twelve Days of Christmas came up. Cupie could not remember how it went and wanted us all to help her remember by singing. Knowing it would take us forever to sing the song, I suggested we start at the twelfth day.

Cupie: Noooooo, start at the beginning.

Adults: On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me . . .

Hubby: A beer.

After an eye roll & playful scowl, I continue with, “a partridge in a pear tree.”

To satisfy the children we continued.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, two French hens . . .

We all stopped, knowing that was wrong.

Me: Oo! Oo! It’s turtle doves!

Two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the third day of Christmas . . .

On the fourth day . . .

On the fifth day . . .

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me

PAUSE

PAUSE MORE

Six geese a laying, five goooooold rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, seven geese a laying, no seven swans a swimming, eight maids a milking

Hubby: You’re going backwards!!

Uh, six geese a laying

Me: And a beer!

Believe it or not, no alcohol had been consumed.


Silver lining:
1. We finally finished all twelve days.
2. We've compiled the following versions of "The 12 Days of Christmas" for your listening pleasure:
http://www.quailonline.net/12days/Bob_and_Doug_McKenzie_Twelve_Days_Of_Christmas.wma
http://www.quailonline.net/12days/Chipmunks_Twelve_Days_of_Christmas.wma
http://www.quailonline.net/12days/Natalie_Cole_Twelve_Days_Of_Christmas.wma
http://www.quailonline.net/12days/Straight_No_Chaser_Twelve_Days_of_Christmas.wma
http://www.quailonline.net/12days/Twisted_Sister_Heavy_Metal_Christmas.wma

The Family Chef

As Hubby has been busy buying ingredients & preparing for our Christmas dinner, I got to thinking about the family chef when we were growing up. As I've stated before, my mom was not one to cook so this is not about her. . .

We had the goofiest, yet remarkable, dog when I was growing up. She was a Shepherd/Samoyed mix – not too big at about 45 lbs and she had the trademark Samoyed “smile”. We named her Ayla.

She would watch us get on the bus in the morning and be waiting with a smile & tail wag when we returned in the afternoon. Her entire butt would wiggle back and forth she was wagging her tail so hard.

She was agile enough to jump over our four foot fence. Most of the time it was to get over to her buddy, Lady, next door. Lady was a beagle mix so there was no jumping for her. While the neighbors liked our dog and were glad Lady & Ayla got along instead of constantly barking at each other, the dogs would tear up the yard. We had to start keeping Ayla on a leash in the back yard.

After a bath, she would race down the stairs, into the living room, rub her head & side on the carpet, go around the coffee tables, then, back up the stairs. She would repeat this several times until she felt she was sufficiently dry.

Ayla was good at curling up next to you and resting her head on your lap when ever you were sad or not feeling well. She would use her nose to push your hand up so she could tuck her head up under your arm.

What made her so remarkable is that she could cook!

A few facts:
She had a double bowl for water & food.
The food she was raised on was dry.
There was a rug under the bowl.

When she was hungry, she would “cook” her food.
She would dip her nose in the water and slosh some over to the food. Then, she would push her nose into the food a few times to mix. Repeat this dip, slosh, mix activity about three more times. Next, she would use her nose to fold the rug up over the top of her dish.

About a ½ hour later, she would return to eat her dinner.

We tried watering it down for her – no go.
We tried giving her canned dog food – no go.

We never understood it and have never heard of another dog that did this. But it was typical of our Ayla – goofy, but remarkable. Miss her lots.

Silver lining - I have lots of good memories of childhood. All kids should have a pet of some kind.

What I Learned in Woman's Bible Study

The women’s Bible study group I belong to had taken a break when our leader started a new job. Now that she is settled in and gotten some routines back in order, we started up again on Wednesday. To introduce ourselves to new people and reacquaint ourselves with everyone, we had to share something interesting about ourselves. I learned some really interesting things in those two and a half hours.

1. One of the gals is a volunteer for crisis assistance if someone comes to the hospital and a rape was involved. I salute her for that – I didn’t know there were “regular” people to talk to should, God forbid, you need her. Her scheduled on-call time is Tuesdays from 4pm to 2am. She attends monthly meetings and many of the other volunteers have cases/stories to discuss, but she has never had any cases. So I’ve determined that if I were to take up streetwalking, the perfect time to do it is between 4pm and 2am on Tuesdays in St. Charles. You know, hard economic times lead people to do the strangest things. I’m not sure how many customers I would have – they would probably pay me to keep my clothes on.

2. Angel fish are terrible parents. I completely understand why some animals eat their young – I’m sure every human parent is aware of this, and most (except for the sickos out there) would not do so. But angel fish, oh my! Any change in their environment causes them to eat their babies. Drop food in the tank, they eat the babies. Kids run through the house, they eat the babies. A car door slams outside, they eat the babies. A train whistle blows two counties away, they eat the babies. A butterfly flaps its wings in Africa . . .

3. My husband is an ultra, over-the-top, hardcore conservative. I actually learned this outside the study group – when I got home. Our hostess at the Bible Study was displaying a card with President-elect Barak Obama on the front of it. People out there are putting Obama’s face on everything – even underwear!!! Apparently, she worked the polls on election day and it was from a friend who worked on the campaign. As our hostess’ children are conservative, I assumed she was as well. We all know the expression about assumptions – you can totally tag this one on me. After telling Rob about this card and my surprise to see it, he pointed out that she has always leaned to the liberal side of the spectrum. Then, we discussed the underwear – this is where the ultra, over-the-top, hardcore part comes in. He said he would wear them inside out and try to crap his pants. Good grief! Can you imagine crapping in your pants by accident, let alone on purpose??? GROSS!!!!!! As my mother-in-law says, “You married him. He’s your’s. I don’t want him back.” I guess I have to keep him – despite his gross-ness.


Silver lining:
1. Women’s Bible Study is back on for regular monthly meetings.
2. Even though I don’t attend church with these women, they have accepted me into their group.
3. Because our hostess reads this blog, I’m going to assume at this point that Rob is not getting a Christmas present from his best friend’s mom. I will say, despite this small character flaw :), I still love her.


PS – We all brought cookies and I need a couple of recipes if someone can get them for me – Laura’s Oreo balls & Christina’s spritz cookies. If anyone needs my chocolate cookie recipe, here it is: Buy some refrigerated cookie dough, break it apart, put on a cookie sheet & bake in the oven @ 350 degrees. Complicated, I know.

Time to Make the Cookies

During the trip to the frozen tundra at Thanksgiving, my mom gave me some cookbooks – she’s never been a cook so I’m not sure why she had them in the first place. One of them was about holiday baking and I had a couple of Christmas Cookie Exchange parties to go to and I am the self-proclaimed cookie queen so I was excited to find a new cookie recipe.

There was one in particular that intrigued me, the Molasses Spice Fizz. I like molasses cookies so I decided this was the one. The recipe said it made seven dozen and that was exactly how many I needed for one of my cookie exchanges – perfect! Last time I said that, I had a dessert disaster (see http://lifemakesmelaugh.blogspot.com/2008/11/delightful-peanut-butter-cookie-bars.html). Why would I think this was any different?

Since it had to be refrigerated for at least an hour (for ease of handling – impending disaster clue #1), I made up the dough for the first batch on Wednesday night (after Bible Study – blog coming soon) in order to make them on Thursday. The plan was to make up the dough for a second batch as soon as I got home from work so it could chill while we made cut outs from the first batch.

When I got home, I realized I had forgotten the recipe at work. Crap – If I was going to make another batch, I was going to have to go back out for that (impending disaster clue #2). I also couldn’t remember what temperature the oven was supposed to be at. Rob said he would get started with the girls. Before I left, I told him the one thing I remembered from the recipe – roll the dough out on a well floured surface. He said he would use the flour sifter to make a good coating on the counter.

I got home to him cussing because the dough was sticking to everything! His hands, the rolling pin, the cookie cutters, argh! So much for ease of handling. That was clue #3 – I now had a full blown dessert disaster. Also, when we looked in the bowl, it didn’t look like enough dough for seven dozen cookies. Was I going to have to make a total of three batches???

It was too late to turn back - the dough was made, rolled out and the cookie cutters placed. Using a spatula to move the cookies from the counter to the cookie sheet was the worst. The dough just kind of mushed up on itself. Apparently, sifting enough flour onto the counter so that you can’t see the counter was not enough. I had to scrape the whole thing off the counter & start again using a lot more flour.

I had to send the kids to bed without helping because I was getting so frustrated and I didn’t want to take it out on them. Needless to say, I was not going to put this recipe into the permanent file – I was never going to make these again! Then, I told Rob to call my sister to get my mom’s sugar cookie recipe.

Mom’s sugar cookies went much easier – I knew what to expect. Although my mom thought the recipe would only make 40 to 50 cookies, we ended up with 180! We had those made & frosted within four and a half hours. I was sooooo done with the molasses cookies, we didn’t glaze them until Saturday morning.

I’ve published both recipes in case you’re interested. WARNING - only the truly brave should try the molasses!

http://lifemakesmelaugh.blogspot.com/2008/12/ma-bergs-christmas-cookies.html

http://lifemakesmelaugh.blogspot.com/2008/12/molasses-spice-fizz-cookies.html


Silver lining:

1. We have a double oven so the baking went pretty fast.
2. In the end, (after a glaze frosting & sugar sprinkles) they were quite tasty.
3. Despite my doubts about the recipe making seven dozen, I ended up with 10 ½ dozen cookies.
4. Cookie exchanges are the bomb! Instead of only having one (or two in my case) type of cookie, I have more than a dozen different ones.

Grandmama's Christmas Cookies

Ingredients:
3 Cups Sugar
1 Cup Shortening
1 ½ Cup Buttermilk
1 tsp Baking Soda
1 tsp Baking Powder
3 Eggs
¾ tsp Nutmeg
7 to 8 Cups Flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Blend sugar & shortening.

Add buttermilk, baking soda, baking powder, eggs & nutmeg.

Add flour until you can roll it into a ball and it doesn’t stick to your hands.

Roll out dough to desired thickness & make shapes with cookie cutters.

Bake 10 to 15 minutes – until very slightly brown.

Place on wire rack to cool prior to frosting & sprinkling.


Ma Berg’s Christmas Cookie Frosting
Ingredients:
1 lb Powdered Sugar
¼ tsp Salt
½ Cup Shortening
1 Egg White (no yolk)
¼ Cup Water2 tsp Corn Starch

Mix all ingredients for five minutes. If too runny, thicken with powdered sugar.

Divide frosting into bowls and add food coloring for added fun!

Molasses Spice Fizz Cookies

Ingredients:
1 Cup Butter
1 ½ Cups Sifted Confectioners’ Sugar
1 Egg
2 ½ Cups All-Purpose Flour
1 tsp Baking Soda1 tsp Cream of Tartar
¼ tsp Salt
4 Tbsp Molasses
2 tsp Ground Cinnamon
½ tsp Ground Nutmeg

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

In a large bowl, with electric mixer at medium speed, beat butter until fluffy. Gradually add sugar; beat until blended. Beat in egg and vanilla.

In a medium bowl, combine flour, soda, cream of tartar and salt. Gradually add flour mixture to butter mixture, beating until blended.

In a small bowl, combine molasses, cinnamon and nutmeg. Blend into dough.

Cover and refrigerate at least one hour or overnight for ease in handling.

On well-floured surface (lots of four or it will stick – trust me!), with floured rolling pin, roll dough 1/8 inch thick.

With floured cookie cutters, cut into desired shapes.

Place on ungreased cookie sheets and bake five minutes.

Cool on a wire rack prior to glazing & sprinkling.


Christmas Cookie Glaze
Ingredients:
1 lb Powdered Sugar
¼ tsp Salt
½ Cup Shortening
1 Egg White (no yolk)
¼ Cup Water
2 tsp Corn Starch

Mix all ingredients for five minutes. This should be runny – add water if necessary.

Use a BBQ brush to glaze the cookies. Sprinke pretty quick after glazing – it dries fast.

That Carpet

Cupie had colored some pictures and planned to give them to her grandparents from the Great White North.

I noticed Cupie sitting on a rug by the back door, punching holes with a pencil into red construction paper. I told her to move away from the door because Rob was going in and out quite frequently.

She says to me, “I need to do this here because I can’t get pencil on the carpet and this (pointing to the linoleum) is too hard. And I am not going to get pencil on that carpet.” I don’t know where she learned that tone; although, I have the feeling I should stay away from mirrors lest I find out.

What made getting pencil on the rug any better is beyond me.

In the end, she taped together a very lovely (but holey) “box” to put the coloring pages in.

Silver lining:
1. The rug is kind of oatmeal colored so pencil won’t show up on it anyway.
2. Bumpa & Nana loved the coloring pages when they were here this past weekend. Sorry Grandma Berg, the "box" was ruined, but the coloring page is waiting for your arrival this weekend.

Don't Eat the Flowers!

My grandma is a remarkable woman.

When she was 85, she was "Gettin' Jiggy With It" at my wedding. I love that memory.

She says things like, "Beau-ti-ful" and "Won-der-ful" while exaggerating the vowel in the first syllable.

She is now 94 and still volunteers at a center that prepares meals / helps those in need. God bless my Uncle Dan who lives with her and helps take care of her. Dan also drives her everywhere because she can't see worth a darn!

While we were up in Wisconsin, Grams joined us for a Thanksgiving feast at my dad's.

Everything was delicious - turkey, dressing, home-made gravy, lumpy non-powder potatoes, pink jello stuff, seven layer salad, the ever present green bean casserole - mmmmmmmmmm!

Dan, in all his kindness, loaded Grams plate with a little bit of everything. When he was going back for seconds of seven layer salad, my grams said, "Oh, what's that?"

He told her what it was, to which she replied, "I didn't get any of that."

He said that she had gotten a little bit of everything. I also pointed out that there was still a little on her plate, as evidenced by the peas.

She bent her head down to look and says, "Oh, I can't see what's on my plate. I've just been eating what's here. All I know is I'm not eating the flowers." She was talking about the design on plate even though they actually had leaves on them.

Gotta love her!


Silver lining:
1. Being 500 miles away, we don't get to see her very often. At 94 we are blessed to still have her here on earth and we all got a chance to see her at least one more time.
2. We made my grams' year by being there for a holiday.
3. She is still getting around by herself (except for driving) and has a sound mind - we can all hope to be doing so well when we're that age.