I really want to be here

I SO want to blog again. But you see...I'm a working woman now. I work TWELVE hours a week, and it is exhausting. Oh, lord, you have no idea..my friend who works SIX hours a week at her gym totally understands. The demands of being a mom AND working at the same time are just too much. After working 4 hours each day, for three days in a row...I really have no energy left to write.

And that's my excuse. But...you might also want to believe that all I want to do is write about the crazy kids that I teach, and that would be wrong...wouldn't it??? Or would it?

What to do when it rains for 5 days straight

I recently told my friend that if the weather is bad outside, she should head over to my house. You see, I have this Pavlovian response to dark days, cold weather, and being cooped up inside and MUST cook.

It really isn't that bad of a vice. Cooking is good right? I got to make some carrot muffins for the kids for their lunches to compensate for the gummy "fruit" snacks they also get. I've also made meatballs, lasagna, french toast, steak stuffed with goat cheese and caramelized onions, and cookies.

The down side to all of this is that since the weather has been so nasty, I only worked out once last week. So if I am what I eat. I am fat! (but happy!) And I digress...

So yesterday we had one of our boy's friends over for an extended playdate. And while we usually take the kids outside for scootering, biking, hiking, and climbing...yesterday we were completely stranded in the house. And even 5 year olds have a limit for how much Wii they can play.

So we made Halloween cookies and decorated them.

It has been raining for so long, I think my brain was starting to melt, because I am the WORST cookie decorator. I was once uninvited to a Christmas cookie decorating party because I had to throw more cookies out than keep. But for some reason I thought I would try with the boys. And here is how they turned out:

I bet you can't even tell which ones I decorated. I told you I was bad. And you'll also be relieved to know that it is no longer raining, so I can stop the cooking madness.

Just another lazy Sunday

I don't know about you, but I am SO tired of making lunches already. Seriously, if I have to look at another sandwich ziploc, bag of pretzels, or cheesestick again, I might just start sending my boy in with money to buy "healthy lunches" of fried cheese sticks with marinara sauce (they have the nerve to count the sauce as a vegetable serving...really?). OK...it isn't getting that bad, but each day that passes I have more and more respect for my sister-in-law who makes lunch for her 5 kids...EVERY F-ING DAY...I have no idea how she does it.

So in an effort to make lunch a little more interesting, last weekend I tried to bake a spiced apple bread to put in with the turkey sandwich and the hard boiled egg. Well...spice it up is exactly what I did. Never one for understatement, I decided that not only would we enjoy this bread, but so would two friends who recently had babies. So I made 3 batches, threw them in the oven, and went to my computer to get started on my online grocery order for the week. 45 minutes later I checked on my bread and this is what I found:

Seriously, if I don't have the knack for making the turkey sandwich and egg look good, I don't who does. These were the most disgusting, gooey, burnt, and foul smelling breads I have ever cooked. And the added bonus was that they overflowed out of their pans onto the bottom of my oven.

So I did what any half-assed cook in the middle of a lazy Sunday afternoon would do. I closed the oven and hit the self-clean button. Why else did I pay a million dollars for my awesome oven if it can't clean itself?

So I returned to my computer to finish my shopping, peruse a little people.com, and return some emails when my husband comes running in. I immediately knew something was up since he rarely leaves his chair on football Sundays. He alerted me to the pouring of smoke coming from the ovens, into the kitchen, and throughout the house. Turns out that you are supposed to clean off the bottom of the oven before hitting self-clean. Ooops.

After a minute of smoke inhalation, a stop-drop-and roll exercise, and a quick trip to the garage for the fire extinguisher, we turned off the oven and started to believe that the house was not going to burn down. I then headed out open a few more windows and when I come back, this is what I found.

Turns out he did what any half-assed football fan on a lazy Sunday would do and got back to the task at hand.

We're nothing if we're not lazy and half-assed around here!

Don't knock it til you try it

I sit here writing on my blog for the first time since uh...well...a LONG time. It really is boring where I have been...so I won't even go there. But as I FINALLY get back to my blog, I drink my vodka tonic and wonder could this be a better deal?

You see, my husband and I like (read:need) to divy up the children responsibilities 50/50. Neither of us likes to feel that the other is getting a better deal/ easier duties and we all know that in the case of child rearing the poop always stinks less on the other side of the room.

So...we alternate in EVERYTHING. Bath, morning duty, soccer practice, nights out with friends...and it works out fantastic.

Sure it somewhat stinks when it is my night for bath and bedtime and my husband retreats to his craigslist search for something that "is a really great deal" but it all works out on nights like tonight where I get to pour myself a drink after dinner and listen to bath and bedtime from afar. If I were to ever give parenting advice...this would be it.

Because nothing makes me happier than my son yelling to me to help him with his Wii and knowing that I can rightly ignore him.

See why I shouldn't give parenting advice??

Julie, Julia, and me

Last night I had the immense pleasure of seeing Julie & Julia. I think you may have to be living underneath a rock to not know the story so do I really have to give a synopsis? (watch the trailer if you are in fact a Fraggle and don't know what I am talking about)

OMG, this movie was talking directly to me. I think I knew that it was love at first sight when, as Julia Childs was struggling with what her next career/life step would be and her husband asked what she liked to do, her response was, "I like to EAT" Amen Julia. I couldn't have said it better myself.

For two hours I sat on the edge of my seat (no, it is not a thriller unless you consider the success of an aspic suspenseful) trying not to be the ultimate cliche in relating to each and every story line they presented. Super tall girl married to a shorter man. Yup. Mundane career by day, blogger by night. Yup. Love of butter and red wine. Double Yup. Stuck in my thirties not really knowing what direction to go. Yup. Complete satisfaction in cooking and desire to make it a career. Yup to the izo.

When I got home from the movie, I immediately went to amazon.com and found myself buying Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Luckily, they did not serve alcohol at our movie theater or I also would have signed up for a Cordon Bleu class that they were advertising at the bottom of the page along with buy a Le Creseut French Oven for your Boeuf Bourguignon and some fresh, delivered to your doorstep liver pate. Seriously, thank god I was sober or we would be taking out a second mortgage today to finance my early to mid-life crisis.

Instead, today I am going to buy a couple of pounds of butter, tackle a Chocolate Roulade and a Beur Blanc and call it a night.

I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about this movie for some time. I have complete admiration of these two women who stuck it out, persevered with what they loved, and found success. I'm not sure the "I like to EAT" declaration is going to get me to my next step...but eventually I'll find mine. And in the meantime, I'm just going to adopt Julia Childs' thoughts:

"The only real stumbling block is fear of failure...you've got to have a what-the-hell attitude."

No more meatballs in the bongo

I'm not really sure how it all started. But usually with me it just takes one small idea to take hold, then fester, next it grows, mutates, and attaches itself to me so that I can no longer function without completing this one small idea. The ideas range from Sleep away camp in Vermont, 1987 to Highlights and Haircut 2006. Some of the ideas are good (camp) while some are questionable (highlights). But innocently enough while spending my summer at the pool I was given the idea that now was the time to potty train my barely 2 year old daughter. And after a gestation period of a few weeks, a couple of google searches, and one illegal forward of "Potty Training in 3 Days," we were off.

Now, when I say we, I really mean the little girl and me. Because let me be the first to tell you that no one else around here was any help AT ALL. When I say he didn't do shit. Well, he didn't do pee or shit. Nothing. OK...maybe I am exaggerating a little bit now. There were the few times when she yelled, "Mommy I need to go potty" and he looked around for me to be sure I would go with her. And there was also the time that he took her upstairs only to put her in a diaper...yeah, that's helping.

But have no fear, I did not let one reluctant parent stand in my way. And after 4 days of mistakes, spending nearly 79 hours on the floor of the potty, 17 rounds of singing wheels on the bus, and one Costco load of Clorox wipes, my little girl got the hang of it. There's no turning back now!

And let's be honest, there's not real point to this post. It is just that I want to scream with joy that we're diaper free and potty trained, that I was right and as she always tells you... "there are no more meatballs in the bongo."

Amen.

Man Cold

Seriously, if I don't seem my normal chipper sarcastic self this week...I'll tell you why. We're suffering a man cold over here. Oh...funny you should ask...we're also potty training. Coincidence? You do the math.

I was referred to this video to let me see just what I was in for this weekend. A fairly accurate portrayl I must say.

Man cold...well I've got a Woman headache if you know what I mean!