Bread worked in the yard this past weekend. He has been understandably sore from this. He has a past of getting very upset when he is in discomfort, whether it is from a workout or from an illness. Usually, he gets crabby at me; as though I’m the reason he is sore or ill. This time has been decidedly better. I think he finally realized that this is not something I am responsible for. I can, however, be blamed for the plethora of reality television shows stocked in our DVR for a rainy day…
The other night, we were relaxing on the couch watching Biggest Loser, when I declared that I need a new triceps workout. My current one is just not cutting it these days. Bread, who wasn’t paying much attention to anything that was coming out of my mouth, told me that I should try “splitting up a stump” as a triceps maneuver. Riiiight. I’ll just get me an axe and perhaps take to falling trees out her in suburbia. “Hello? Yes, ‘Tis I, Jessie the Lumberjack. “ My response was, “Or, I could use my weights…” Men!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Google that Shit
I do not have much to post about these days. I can summarize what is happening in my life, as of late, in about a paragraph. I am enjoying the warmer weather. I am getting outdoors to exercise. I am ceasing to stuff my face constantly but struggling to lose the 10 or so pounds I gained (also beating myself up about this a lot). I have been cooking, cleaning and reading. Bird has been pleasant. The fits have ceased (mostly) but, I understand that I’ve just cursed that. Bread has been working about 60 plus hours a week and we’re working on possibly planning a long weekend journey to the beach. Oh, and my dogs are still crazy. That’s it! Whew! I’m exhausted.
Now, here’s a little something that makes me laugh. Perhaps you’ll find a chuckle as well. I find Google to be an amazing resource. I use it constantly. I’m always saying, “Google that shit.” I’m constantly pondering what our mothers did without Google. How did you find out why your child was shitting green? What did you do when you realize, half way through a recipe, you don’t have enough baking soda and you need to know what you can substitute? I have got to hand it to our ancestors; life was definitely rough on the frontier…
I know that others like to Google as well. I say this, as though it’s a pastime, although, perhaps, for some, it is. I feel sorry for these people as their lives are even more lackluster than mine. Anyway, some peeps have recently found to my site via Google. Here is a list of things they were searching for: pooped in her pants, adult diapers, pulled pork and domestic diva. The seeker of adult diaper information did not stay long. Come back! We promise not to make fun of you…
Anyway, that’s not all that humorous but, what is funny is the auto fill function on Google. You’ll be typing away and then you can see what others are searching for. For example, Bread and I were having a conversation about the old 80’s sitcom, The Facts of Life. It used to be one of my favorite shows. We were talking about the characters and how George Clooney used to be on it. Somehow, we ended up searching for information on the character, Blair. As Bread was typing it up, “Blair’s retarded cousin” was coming up. What? Who is searching for that? And, she had Cerebral Palsay,BTW. Assholes.
When my good friend, Malbie lost her job we were hanging around one afternoon, trying to find her a new career. She declared that she liked to paint her nails. And, so it was decided that she should open a nail salon. Of course we had to Google that shit. We were searching for opening a nail salon when we saw that others were searching for, “Why Asians open nail salons,” as well as, “Why Asians so smart.” Clearly it wouldn’t take much to surpass your wealth of knowledge, dumbass.
Recently, my former coworker, who is pregnant, informed me that she was trying to find out if she could dye her hair while she is knocked up. She knows I have a fascination with this and informed me that she typed in; “Can I dye my hair while I’m pregnant,” and, “Can I get pregnant by a dog” came up. WTF? There are that many people seeking this information that it’s the first thing to come up. I’m dumbfounded! I also believe this is hilarious. Personally, I feel secure knowing there are so many less intelligent human beings on this earth…
So, Happy Tuesday, y’all! That was a bit of random miscellanea brought to you by Jessie Domestic. Enjoy your day!
Now, here’s a little something that makes me laugh. Perhaps you’ll find a chuckle as well. I find Google to be an amazing resource. I use it constantly. I’m always saying, “Google that shit.” I’m constantly pondering what our mothers did without Google. How did you find out why your child was shitting green? What did you do when you realize, half way through a recipe, you don’t have enough baking soda and you need to know what you can substitute? I have got to hand it to our ancestors; life was definitely rough on the frontier…
I know that others like to Google as well. I say this, as though it’s a pastime, although, perhaps, for some, it is. I feel sorry for these people as their lives are even more lackluster than mine. Anyway, some peeps have recently found to my site via Google. Here is a list of things they were searching for: pooped in her pants, adult diapers, pulled pork and domestic diva. The seeker of adult diaper information did not stay long. Come back! We promise not to make fun of you…
Anyway, that’s not all that humorous but, what is funny is the auto fill function on Google. You’ll be typing away and then you can see what others are searching for. For example, Bread and I were having a conversation about the old 80’s sitcom, The Facts of Life. It used to be one of my favorite shows. We were talking about the characters and how George Clooney used to be on it. Somehow, we ended up searching for information on the character, Blair. As Bread was typing it up, “Blair’s retarded cousin” was coming up. What? Who is searching for that? And, she had Cerebral Palsay,BTW. Assholes.
When my good friend, Malbie lost her job we were hanging around one afternoon, trying to find her a new career. She declared that she liked to paint her nails. And, so it was decided that she should open a nail salon. Of course we had to Google that shit. We were searching for opening a nail salon when we saw that others were searching for, “Why Asians open nail salons,” as well as, “Why Asians so smart.” Clearly it wouldn’t take much to surpass your wealth of knowledge, dumbass.
Recently, my former coworker, who is pregnant, informed me that she was trying to find out if she could dye her hair while she is knocked up. She knows I have a fascination with this and informed me that she typed in; “Can I dye my hair while I’m pregnant,” and, “Can I get pregnant by a dog” came up. WTF? There are that many people seeking this information that it’s the first thing to come up. I’m dumbfounded! I also believe this is hilarious. Personally, I feel secure knowing there are so many less intelligent human beings on this earth…
So, Happy Tuesday, y’all! That was a bit of random miscellanea brought to you by Jessie Domestic. Enjoy your day!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
What’s for Dinner, Bitches: Installment Six
I’ve been cooking up a storm over here. Since we have four seasons in the Midwest, I usually get in a slump towards the end of winter. I get bored with my cycle of meals. I also get irritated with our lack of decent produce. Alas, the spring has arrived, and I’ve found my mojo again.
I love soup and chili. Considering I just said I was sick of cooking winter foods, you’d think that I’d given up on those two things. No! I love them! I can eat them year round. It could be 90 degrees outside and I’d have a hankering for some soup! Secretly, I think I love soup in the warmer months because then I can justify having ice cream! The soup made me hot (insert an annoying whine here).
Yesterday, was a rainy day. I felt the need for soup. I am still madly in love with Taste of Home Magazine. I’ve tried four recipes from the first issue alone and we have loved them all! I tried their Spicy Black Bean Soup yesterday and it was great. I have been looking for a good recipe for some time. I have tried several but none of them really met the mark. This one was great. It was easy and very, very tasty. I’ll be adding it to my trusty nerd recipe binder. I want to share the recipe with my fellow readers; Taste of Home won’t let me post a link (you have to be a subscriber) so I’ll type it in order to allow you all to see it. Oh, the lengths I will go…I typed it up below.
Some other things I currently love:
homemade guacamole
Pink Lady Apples
coffee with hazelnut cream
salads with strawberries, apples and a bit of blue cheese
roasted almonds made especially for me, with love, from Bread
Spicy Black Bean Soup from Taste of Home
Prep: 25 minutes Cook: 40 minutes Yield: 12 Servings (3/4 cup each)
1 large red onion
1 medium sweet red pepper, chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
2 TBSP. olive oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
3 cans (15 oz. each) black beans, rinsed and drained
3 ½ cups vegetable broth
1 can (14.5 oz.) diced tomatoes with mild green chilies, undrained
1 can (4 oz.) chopped green chilies
1/3 cup sherry or additional vegetable broth
2 TBSP. minced fresh cilantro
Sour cream and cheddar cheese for topping
In a Dutch oven, sauté onion and peppers in oil until tender. Add garlic, cook 1minute longer.
Stir in the beans, broth, tomatoes and chopped green chilies. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, for 25 minutes. Add sherry and cilantro; cook 5 minutes longer.
Remove from the heat; cool slightly. Place half of soup in a blender; process until pureed. Return to the pan and heat through. Top with sour cream and cheddar.
I love soup and chili. Considering I just said I was sick of cooking winter foods, you’d think that I’d given up on those two things. No! I love them! I can eat them year round. It could be 90 degrees outside and I’d have a hankering for some soup! Secretly, I think I love soup in the warmer months because then I can justify having ice cream! The soup made me hot (insert an annoying whine here).
Yesterday, was a rainy day. I felt the need for soup. I am still madly in love with Taste of Home Magazine. I’ve tried four recipes from the first issue alone and we have loved them all! I tried their Spicy Black Bean Soup yesterday and it was great. I have been looking for a good recipe for some time. I have tried several but none of them really met the mark. This one was great. It was easy and very, very tasty. I’ll be adding it to my trusty nerd recipe binder. I want to share the recipe with my fellow readers; Taste of Home won’t let me post a link (you have to be a subscriber) so I’ll type it in order to allow you all to see it. Oh, the lengths I will go…I typed it up below.
Some other things I currently love:
homemade guacamole
Pink Lady Apples
coffee with hazelnut cream
salads with strawberries, apples and a bit of blue cheese
roasted almonds made especially for me, with love, from Bread
Spicy Black Bean Soup from Taste of Home
Prep: 25 minutes Cook: 40 minutes Yield: 12 Servings (3/4 cup each)
1 large red onion
1 medium sweet red pepper, chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
2 TBSP. olive oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
3 cans (15 oz. each) black beans, rinsed and drained
3 ½ cups vegetable broth
1 can (14.5 oz.) diced tomatoes with mild green chilies, undrained
1 can (4 oz.) chopped green chilies
1/3 cup sherry or additional vegetable broth
2 TBSP. minced fresh cilantro
Sour cream and cheddar cheese for topping
In a Dutch oven, sauté onion and peppers in oil until tender. Add garlic, cook 1minute longer.
Stir in the beans, broth, tomatoes and chopped green chilies. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, for 25 minutes. Add sherry and cilantro; cook 5 minutes longer.
Remove from the heat; cool slightly. Place half of soup in a blender; process until pureed. Return to the pan and heat through. Top with sour cream and cheddar.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I Wonder if She is Available to Watch Bird?
We have lived in our house for five years now. Some of our neighbors we got to “know” right away. Some of the other neighbors took time to figure out. We got to know Edna* right away. Well, sort of, I guess we have never actually met her but she definitely makes herself known.
Edna lives down our street. When we first moved in, she would walk up and down the street muttering and yelling. She would sometimes have a cane and sometimes not. She once yelled at Bread while he was cutting our grass. I guess she didn’t like what he was doing to our lawn. He has absolutely no idea what she said to him since it was completely unintelligible. We thought she was disabled. We also thought she was about 75 years-old. We thought the older man she lives with was her brother and that he was taking care of her.
Boy, were we ever wrong! It turns out Edna is Drunk Edna and only 56 years-old! She lives with her 92 year-old boyfriend, Earl (I guess he likes em’ young and she doesn’t have many teeth if you know what I mean). Drunk Edna is what all the neighbors call her. She walks to the store first thing in the morning to get her Popov. I see her stumbling and muttering down the street. I give her great credit for not driving. God bless Jesus for that.
One of our neighbors has a son who is a year and a half older than Bird. When she was near her due date, she came home from work to wait it out on her couch. Apparently, while we were at work, Drunk Edna stumbled home from her daily liquor stop and passed out on our lawn, against a tree. Our poor neighbor, now two weeks past her due date and miserable in the July heat, went out to try and help her. After some muttering, she had to leave Edna to sleep it off.
Poor, Drunk Edna loves to feed the birds. She also randomly brings in our garbage cans. I’m not really sure what that is about since we’ve never even really spoken. I think she gets confused. She has also graduated to a walker with wheels and a basket! She doesn’t actually use it; she can walk perfectly fine aside from the swagger. I think it’s more of an accessory, someplace to store her goods. She pushes it really hard to it get it going, releases it and then catches up to it.
Another time, we were eating dinner when someone we did not know pulled into our driveway. Nosy folks that we are, we ran to the window to see Edna climbing out of the vehicle and stumbling down the street. The woman, who dropped her off, came back to our house a few hours later. I was gone but Bread was home. Apparently, the woman found Edna mumbling and stumbling on the other side of town, thought she was disabled and picked her up. She told Bread so was worried about her and came back to check on her well-being. It turns out Edna told the woman our house was her residence (this may explain why she brings our garbage cans in).
I feel bad for Drunk Edna, I do. I’m not making light of her apparent addiction but imagine my surprise, when a year after I’d been living in my house, I discovered I was completely wrong about who and what she was. Obviously, the woman has issues. She also has really bad taste in Vodka. Popov? Really? Yuck. Someone should tell her that she can get a really great deal at Costco.
*Some names have been changed to protect the local crazies.
Edna lives down our street. When we first moved in, she would walk up and down the street muttering and yelling. She would sometimes have a cane and sometimes not. She once yelled at Bread while he was cutting our grass. I guess she didn’t like what he was doing to our lawn. He has absolutely no idea what she said to him since it was completely unintelligible. We thought she was disabled. We also thought she was about 75 years-old. We thought the older man she lives with was her brother and that he was taking care of her.
Boy, were we ever wrong! It turns out Edna is Drunk Edna and only 56 years-old! She lives with her 92 year-old boyfriend, Earl (I guess he likes em’ young and she doesn’t have many teeth if you know what I mean). Drunk Edna is what all the neighbors call her. She walks to the store first thing in the morning to get her Popov. I see her stumbling and muttering down the street. I give her great credit for not driving. God bless Jesus for that.
One of our neighbors has a son who is a year and a half older than Bird. When she was near her due date, she came home from work to wait it out on her couch. Apparently, while we were at work, Drunk Edna stumbled home from her daily liquor stop and passed out on our lawn, against a tree. Our poor neighbor, now two weeks past her due date and miserable in the July heat, went out to try and help her. After some muttering, she had to leave Edna to sleep it off.
Poor, Drunk Edna loves to feed the birds. She also randomly brings in our garbage cans. I’m not really sure what that is about since we’ve never even really spoken. I think she gets confused. She has also graduated to a walker with wheels and a basket! She doesn’t actually use it; she can walk perfectly fine aside from the swagger. I think it’s more of an accessory, someplace to store her goods. She pushes it really hard to it get it going, releases it and then catches up to it.
Another time, we were eating dinner when someone we did not know pulled into our driveway. Nosy folks that we are, we ran to the window to see Edna climbing out of the vehicle and stumbling down the street. The woman, who dropped her off, came back to our house a few hours later. I was gone but Bread was home. Apparently, the woman found Edna mumbling and stumbling on the other side of town, thought she was disabled and picked her up. She told Bread so was worried about her and came back to check on her well-being. It turns out Edna told the woman our house was her residence (this may explain why she brings our garbage cans in).
I feel bad for Drunk Edna, I do. I’m not making light of her apparent addiction but imagine my surprise, when a year after I’d been living in my house, I discovered I was completely wrong about who and what she was. Obviously, the woman has issues. She also has really bad taste in Vodka. Popov? Really? Yuck. Someone should tell her that she can get a really great deal at Costco.
*Some names have been changed to protect the local crazies.
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Events of Friday, May 14th, As They Unraveled
Fridays are quickly becoming my favorite day of the week. Why is this you ask? Because, my friends, I have discovered the bounty that is garage sales! I’m a snob but I’ll buy somebody else’s shit for the right price. I’m so not above that. Here is why- thus far, in my brief stint as a parent, I’ve discovered that everything we buy for Bird, that we are absolutely certain she will love, she does not. We spent a day and $80 on the damn sandbox and she hardly plays with it. She loves the $3 set of Disney Princess keys from Target, though. So, I’ve determined, based on the length of time the child will actually play with something, and the fact that you can find anything you want at a garage sale, I’m not buying anything new that can be Lysol wiped clean. Plus, she’s two yearsold, she has no idea and does not care if something is new. We’ll buy her new stuff when she’s older.
I became a garage saler by accident. I used to always run errands on Fridays. I happened by a few sales while I was out and about. I made some good scores: a tricycle, an outdoor playhouse and slide, a picnic table and some of those handy-dandy clamp-on roller skates. It’s easy to find new or like-new items for a miniscule portion of the regular in-store price. Also, since kid’s items are brightly colored, it’s easy to just do a drive-by and see if there’s anything that sparks your interest. It’s a pain in the ass to lug your tot in and out of the car just to go look at some old lady’s crusty supply of knick knacks (no offense if you’re an old lady with a crusty supply of knick knacks). I’ve also discovered that everybody wants the kid stuff so you have to come early. Waiting until Saturday is a bad idea if you want to really score. If you would have told me five years ago that I’d be writing on the internet about how to score fantastic garage sale items, I would have called you a liar…
So, now that we’ve got the background story all lined up, we can move on. Today, we headed out early. I don’t do this all day, people. I just take an hour or two and cruise around the neighborhood. We found a block sale today. Those are the best. We scored. I’ve been looking for a dollhouse for Bird. I didn’t really want to go the Little People route because I think she’ll grow out of it quickly. Anyway, low and behold, gleaming from one lady’s front lawn, was the mother of all garage sale finds-a Barbie Dreamhouse! Bird did not even know she wanted one; I knew she wanted one, though. You see, I wanted one for about ten years. I was obsessed with Barbie! I honestly think it’s the only toy I ever played with. I had millions of them. I still do because I saved them for my daughter! Anyway, for about ten years, the number one thing on my list was a Barbie Dreamhouse. Santa’s fat ass never delivered and I have a running joke with my mom that I’m scarred for life because of this. Coincidentally, today is my mom’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Mother! I’ll be making all of your grandchild’s dreams come true now…
The Dreamhouse met all the appropriate garage sale criteria-plastic so as it can be wiped (I am a germaphobe), in good shape, and cheap ($15). We took her home with us! I was so excited! I called my mom twice! I am crazy! It also came with a bunch of plastic furniture. We got everything all wiped up. Bird was truly ecstatic because she has a couple Barbie Dolls and some Disney Princess Dolls who were in desperate need of a home.
It’s a beautiful day today and we should have been outside but she was just so thrilled. I planned on having her skip her nap. The plan was that we would play for a bit indoors, take the dogs for a walk for rest period and then get groceries.
She was happily playing with her house while I was firing off pictures of her new toy to my mom, her Auntie and Bread at work. I am so that mom who is living through her child. That took all of maybe four minutes. She says to me, “I pooped my pants.” I thought there’s no way. When Bird poops, it’s a production. She’s been going on the toilet for months now, even before she was officially potty trained because she runs back and forth and becomes frantic when she has to go. It’s easy enough to figure out so I always can get her to the toilet. Well, not today. I swear to you, she did not move from in front of that dollhouse. She was so excited about her new toy that she shit herself! It wasn’t just a little skid either, we’re talking massive poop here (sorry if you’re eating or something while reading this). It’s my own fault. I should have known she had to go because I kind of felt like I did and we’re on the same schedule. I’ve heard of women who live together having the same monthly cycle but this other thing is complete nonsense. WTF?
I quickly assess the situation. Is there leakage? She had Capri pants on so this had potential to be messy. Thankfully, when I selected her panties this morning, I chose a pair of the training pants and not the light-weight fancy princess ones. The training pants have a lot more staying power. I remained calm. If you’re not a parent yet, you can’t appreciate the need to REMAIN CALM in a situation like this. Freaking out will only leave you with poop smeared all over your home.
We made it to the bathroom where I had to determine the best method for removing the shit-saturated pants. There was no button on her pants so I was forced to slide them off. I thought about putting her directly into the bathtub but feared she wasn’t done yet so instead opted for the toilet. There was crap all over. She kept saying,”Oh, no, there’s poop all over. Why’d you do that?” Those were my sentiments exactly. I have a plan for everything. An agenda, if you will, for each and every day. So much so that Bird now wants an itinerary. I’ll tell her we are going to go to the store. She will always ask what next and what next until we get to the part where she goes to bed. Needless to say, cleaning poop off my toddler, the toilet and then the bathtub was so not on today’s schedule.
I managed to remain calm through the entire incident. We got everything cleaned up and Bird got a bath. The last item to deal with was the shitty panties. You know what I did? I threw those bastards away! I figure I saved us about $150 on Barbie supplies that we didn’t know we needed! I was entitled to throw those away! I’ll buy a new pair for $3! I earned it. I also earned my internet time. Girlfriend needed a nap. I mean, I can understand, taking a shit like that is likely to tire you out. And, if you’d have told me, five years ago that I would be writing on the internet about my toddler, her shit and even mine, I would have told YOU that YOU were full of shit. But, here we are…Happy Friday, Bitches!
I became a garage saler by accident. I used to always run errands on Fridays. I happened by a few sales while I was out and about. I made some good scores: a tricycle, an outdoor playhouse and slide, a picnic table and some of those handy-dandy clamp-on roller skates. It’s easy to find new or like-new items for a miniscule portion of the regular in-store price. Also, since kid’s items are brightly colored, it’s easy to just do a drive-by and see if there’s anything that sparks your interest. It’s a pain in the ass to lug your tot in and out of the car just to go look at some old lady’s crusty supply of knick knacks (no offense if you’re an old lady with a crusty supply of knick knacks). I’ve also discovered that everybody wants the kid stuff so you have to come early. Waiting until Saturday is a bad idea if you want to really score. If you would have told me five years ago that I’d be writing on the internet about how to score fantastic garage sale items, I would have called you a liar…
So, now that we’ve got the background story all lined up, we can move on. Today, we headed out early. I don’t do this all day, people. I just take an hour or two and cruise around the neighborhood. We found a block sale today. Those are the best. We scored. I’ve been looking for a dollhouse for Bird. I didn’t really want to go the Little People route because I think she’ll grow out of it quickly. Anyway, low and behold, gleaming from one lady’s front lawn, was the mother of all garage sale finds-a Barbie Dreamhouse! Bird did not even know she wanted one; I knew she wanted one, though. You see, I wanted one for about ten years. I was obsessed with Barbie! I honestly think it’s the only toy I ever played with. I had millions of them. I still do because I saved them for my daughter! Anyway, for about ten years, the number one thing on my list was a Barbie Dreamhouse. Santa’s fat ass never delivered and I have a running joke with my mom that I’m scarred for life because of this. Coincidentally, today is my mom’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Mother! I’ll be making all of your grandchild’s dreams come true now…
The Dreamhouse met all the appropriate garage sale criteria-plastic so as it can be wiped (I am a germaphobe), in good shape, and cheap ($15). We took her home with us! I was so excited! I called my mom twice! I am crazy! It also came with a bunch of plastic furniture. We got everything all wiped up. Bird was truly ecstatic because she has a couple Barbie Dolls and some Disney Princess Dolls who were in desperate need of a home.
It’s a beautiful day today and we should have been outside but she was just so thrilled. I planned on having her skip her nap. The plan was that we would play for a bit indoors, take the dogs for a walk for rest period and then get groceries.
She was happily playing with her house while I was firing off pictures of her new toy to my mom, her Auntie and Bread at work. I am so that mom who is living through her child. That took all of maybe four minutes. She says to me, “I pooped my pants.” I thought there’s no way. When Bird poops, it’s a production. She’s been going on the toilet for months now, even before she was officially potty trained because she runs back and forth and becomes frantic when she has to go. It’s easy enough to figure out so I always can get her to the toilet. Well, not today. I swear to you, she did not move from in front of that dollhouse. She was so excited about her new toy that she shit herself! It wasn’t just a little skid either, we’re talking massive poop here (sorry if you’re eating or something while reading this). It’s my own fault. I should have known she had to go because I kind of felt like I did and we’re on the same schedule. I’ve heard of women who live together having the same monthly cycle but this other thing is complete nonsense. WTF?
I quickly assess the situation. Is there leakage? She had Capri pants on so this had potential to be messy. Thankfully, when I selected her panties this morning, I chose a pair of the training pants and not the light-weight fancy princess ones. The training pants have a lot more staying power. I remained calm. If you’re not a parent yet, you can’t appreciate the need to REMAIN CALM in a situation like this. Freaking out will only leave you with poop smeared all over your home.
We made it to the bathroom where I had to determine the best method for removing the shit-saturated pants. There was no button on her pants so I was forced to slide them off. I thought about putting her directly into the bathtub but feared she wasn’t done yet so instead opted for the toilet. There was crap all over. She kept saying,”Oh, no, there’s poop all over. Why’d you do that?” Those were my sentiments exactly. I have a plan for everything. An agenda, if you will, for each and every day. So much so that Bird now wants an itinerary. I’ll tell her we are going to go to the store. She will always ask what next and what next until we get to the part where she goes to bed. Needless to say, cleaning poop off my toddler, the toilet and then the bathtub was so not on today’s schedule.
I managed to remain calm through the entire incident. We got everything cleaned up and Bird got a bath. The last item to deal with was the shitty panties. You know what I did? I threw those bastards away! I figure I saved us about $150 on Barbie supplies that we didn’t know we needed! I was entitled to throw those away! I’ll buy a new pair for $3! I earned it. I also earned my internet time. Girlfriend needed a nap. I mean, I can understand, taking a shit like that is likely to tire you out. And, if you’d have told me, five years ago that I would be writing on the internet about my toddler, her shit and even mine, I would have told YOU that YOU were full of shit. But, here we are…Happy Friday, Bitches!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
What’s for Dinner, Bitches: Installment Five
It’s Wednesday. Some of you know what that means-time for me to enlighten you with what I’m feeding my family tonight. Er, what I fed my family tonight. I intended to post this earlier in the day. However, due to an intense round of tantruming this morning, I spent naptime (read: break time) relaxing on the couch in order to build up stamina for round two, post nap. How did that work out for me, you ask? Fantastic. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s relax. I did, also, get all my daily chores done so it wasn’t a complete wash.
We're moving on, here. Dinner tonight was this recipe from Taste of Home. This was an A plus! A five star! I loved it! Bread loved it! Why was it so great? It was so simple but tasted like it was so much more involved. Bread actually kept commenting on how much he was enjoying it. He said something along the lines of guessing it was actually a lot of work. Wrong.
I should have let him think that I had slaved but I cannot tell a lie. I also loved this because it called for rotisserie chicken. Chicken breast would work great but I love rotisserie chicken from, wait for it…wait for it…COSTCO (visualize me, shouting this while doing jazz hands). I also think this recipe would be tasty with fish, salmon perhaps. I’m adding this to my big ol’ binder of recipes. I’ll definitely be making this one again.
I’m a new subscriber to Taste of Home Magazine. I must say, I love it so far. It’s real recipes by real people with busy lives. I love it. It’s simple and tasty and has lots of shortcuts which I love because contrary to popular belief, I don’t have all the time in the world to cook all day. I don’t want to have all the time in the world to cook, that would be dangerous.
As for last week’s Rachael Ray recipe, it was awful. It was very easy but nobody loved it. I love black beans, cheese and avocado. I did not love this. I’ll never make it again. Rachael Ray has been a huge disappointment for me these days. It’s like how many different ways can I make Sloppy Joe? Blah. Kudos to her because she’s making bank but I don’t think I’ll be renewing my subscription again.
We're moving on, here. Dinner tonight was this recipe from Taste of Home. This was an A plus! A five star! I loved it! Bread loved it! Why was it so great? It was so simple but tasted like it was so much more involved. Bread actually kept commenting on how much he was enjoying it. He said something along the lines of guessing it was actually a lot of work. Wrong.
I should have let him think that I had slaved but I cannot tell a lie. I also loved this because it called for rotisserie chicken. Chicken breast would work great but I love rotisserie chicken from, wait for it…wait for it…COSTCO (visualize me, shouting this while doing jazz hands). I also think this recipe would be tasty with fish, salmon perhaps. I’m adding this to my big ol’ binder of recipes. I’ll definitely be making this one again.
I’m a new subscriber to Taste of Home Magazine. I must say, I love it so far. It’s real recipes by real people with busy lives. I love it. It’s simple and tasty and has lots of shortcuts which I love because contrary to popular belief, I don’t have all the time in the world to cook all day. I don’t want to have all the time in the world to cook, that would be dangerous.
As for last week’s Rachael Ray recipe, it was awful. It was very easy but nobody loved it. I love black beans, cheese and avocado. I did not love this. I’ll never make it again. Rachael Ray has been a huge disappointment for me these days. It’s like how many different ways can I make Sloppy Joe? Blah. Kudos to her because she’s making bank but I don’t think I’ll be renewing my subscription again.
Monday, May 10, 2010
I Promise to Love, Honor and Fall Asleep On the Couch Nightly
We are very much creatures of habit. We have our nightly rituals. We eat, clean up the kitchen, bathe our child, maybe take a walk if the weather is nice and then congregate on the couch. The couch is most definitely our gathering place. We have been embracing the lazy for many years...
This is where several things will happen. I will probably watch something while playing on the internet. Bread will watch whatever, maybe read (with earplugs in because he cannot focus on anything if the television is on-he will watch ANYTHING). I may also, or instead, read a magazine or book because I am capable of doing two things at once. Sometimes Bread watches TV. He usually lets me watch whatever because he says he hates television. Except in the summer and fall when baseball is on - he is a fan. Actually, I am too, so this works well. Go Tigers! He will probably doze because he works lots of hours and has a problem where, if he is not moving, he will fall asleep. We have conversation. One of us (not me) is always very distracted since, if the television is on, he cannot look away.
As I’ve mentioned, many, many times, I don’t really talk to many people during the day. I have a couple friends I converse with, but one is usually at work and the other is a SAHM of two, so her time is limited. Many times, I can’t wait for Bread to get home so I can chase him around telling him about this or that, or my newest scheme. Bread, on the other hand, has been around people all day. On a typical day, he’s been up since five or six in the morning and doesn’t get home from work until six in the evening. He’s tired. He probably wants to be left alone (not really probably). I try to be understanding of this but, sometimes, I just need to talk. He listens, mostly and responds as necessary because he tries to understand the isolation of being a SAHM.
Also, who am I kidding, we are an old married couple. We don’t have a ton to say to each other every day. We’re comfortable in our relationship; we know most everything there is to know about each other, aside from all of the daily happenings. It’s nice.
Because we are creatures of habit, as I mentioned, we are always together if we are both home. We have a living room and a family room. Bread has a nice garage. Our basement is finished and, could potentially become a lovely man-cave. Alas, if we are both home, we’re in the same room. I never really feel the need to be away from my man if he’s home. We like to be together (try not to vomit).
So, when Bread goes to bed, generally, I go with him. It’s usually late anyway, since he requires about four hours of sleep every night. I like to read until I’m falling asleep. This is when Bread becomes talkative. It’s like as soon as I open my book or magazine he opens his mouth. EVERY NIGHT! Always! I promise. This is when he wants to discuss the most important parts of his day or our life. He will wait! Until we are in bed! Winding down! Then it’s, “I was thinking maybe I should invest…”WTF? No! No! You just sat with me for four hours and did nothing but doze and stare blankly at the television with earplugs in! Do not start talking to me now! This is not fair! We are going to sleep! I was eagerly waiting for you to talk to me before! Not now!
The best part is that he knows he does this. He so knows. He apologizes. He is relentless. He does it every night! Right now he is thinking about what he’s going to spring on me tonight. I can see the wheels turning as I’m furiously typing this. He’s holding the remote, pointed at the baseball game, with his eyes closed but he’s plotting. I know it! I know! He’s going to ask me where I’d like to be buried or if we should remodel the kitchen or can he buy a luxury car. I know! I know! I know!
The other night, when I reminded him that he was doing it again, he said, “I’m like a fish. The TV is my shiny thing. I cannot look away. Therefore, I can’t make conversation with you when it’s on.”
Habit lovers that we are, I can see this happening for the next sixty years or so. That's fine. I will get mine. I think I'm going to start freezing his underwear when he falls asleep too early.
This is where several things will happen. I will probably watch something while playing on the internet. Bread will watch whatever, maybe read (with earplugs in because he cannot focus on anything if the television is on-he will watch ANYTHING). I may also, or instead, read a magazine or book because I am capable of doing two things at once. Sometimes Bread watches TV. He usually lets me watch whatever because he says he hates television. Except in the summer and fall when baseball is on - he is a fan. Actually, I am too, so this works well. Go Tigers! He will probably doze because he works lots of hours and has a problem where, if he is not moving, he will fall asleep. We have conversation. One of us (not me) is always very distracted since, if the television is on, he cannot look away.
As I’ve mentioned, many, many times, I don’t really talk to many people during the day. I have a couple friends I converse with, but one is usually at work and the other is a SAHM of two, so her time is limited. Many times, I can’t wait for Bread to get home so I can chase him around telling him about this or that, or my newest scheme. Bread, on the other hand, has been around people all day. On a typical day, he’s been up since five or six in the morning and doesn’t get home from work until six in the evening. He’s tired. He probably wants to be left alone (not really probably). I try to be understanding of this but, sometimes, I just need to talk. He listens, mostly and responds as necessary because he tries to understand the isolation of being a SAHM.
Also, who am I kidding, we are an old married couple. We don’t have a ton to say to each other every day. We’re comfortable in our relationship; we know most everything there is to know about each other, aside from all of the daily happenings. It’s nice.
Because we are creatures of habit, as I mentioned, we are always together if we are both home. We have a living room and a family room. Bread has a nice garage. Our basement is finished and, could potentially become a lovely man-cave. Alas, if we are both home, we’re in the same room. I never really feel the need to be away from my man if he’s home. We like to be together (try not to vomit).
So, when Bread goes to bed, generally, I go with him. It’s usually late anyway, since he requires about four hours of sleep every night. I like to read until I’m falling asleep. This is when Bread becomes talkative. It’s like as soon as I open my book or magazine he opens his mouth. EVERY NIGHT! Always! I promise. This is when he wants to discuss the most important parts of his day or our life. He will wait! Until we are in bed! Winding down! Then it’s, “I was thinking maybe I should invest…”WTF? No! No! You just sat with me for four hours and did nothing but doze and stare blankly at the television with earplugs in! Do not start talking to me now! This is not fair! We are going to sleep! I was eagerly waiting for you to talk to me before! Not now!
The best part is that he knows he does this. He so knows. He apologizes. He is relentless. He does it every night! Right now he is thinking about what he’s going to spring on me tonight. I can see the wheels turning as I’m furiously typing this. He’s holding the remote, pointed at the baseball game, with his eyes closed but he’s plotting. I know it! I know! He’s going to ask me where I’d like to be buried or if we should remodel the kitchen or can he buy a luxury car. I know! I know! I know!
The other night, when I reminded him that he was doing it again, he said, “I’m like a fish. The TV is my shiny thing. I cannot look away. Therefore, I can’t make conversation with you when it’s on.”
Habit lovers that we are, I can see this happening for the next sixty years or so. That's fine. I will get mine. I think I'm going to start freezing his underwear when he falls asleep too early.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
What’s for Dinner, Bitches: Installment Four
In honor of today being one of my favorite holidays, Cinco de Mayo, we’re going to try this recipe from Rachael Ray. By the way, my favorite holidays are all the ones that revolve around food. That includes just about every holiday, so there you go.
Here is the part where I go off on a little side note. I feel like I have to...For five years, while I was in college, I worked in a Mexican restaurant. It was in an industrial park and across the street from my college so we served lots of business people and students. Every year, for Cinco de Mayo we had a huge party which included a tent in the parking lot and perhaps a band or music. The work day began at about 10 AM and didn’t end until 12 AM. Hopefully, if you had a good day, you made bank that day. I almost always did. I was cute back then! I mean, I was a stellar waitress.
My friend, Malbie, reminded me last night about the occasion when our good friend came to visit me at work with her on Cinco de Mayo. He proceeded to get extremely drunk. Over served! He then, got upset about something ridiculous (I don't recall what) and declared he was walking home. It was about 6 miles back to our apartment where he was staying. Needless to say, he did not make it home. Instead, he got picked up by campus police and taken to the local hospital. This is the same friend who, while peeing in public on his 21st birthday, informed a police officer that he was, “Taking a piss! What does it look like?” While, I’m not planning on getting arrested today (not planning but, stranger things have happened), I do intend to have a couple margaritas; I feel like I ought to toast our good friend! I owe it to him! It’s been 10 years! OMG, we are old! I don't know anybody who has been arrested lately! This is yet another definite sign of old age! Shit!
Anyway, nostalgia aside, I love Mexican food. It’s probably my all-time favorite so I am definitely using today as an excuse to make some. I’m trying this particular recipe because I have all the ingredients and I won’t have to go back to the grocery store for the sixth time in a week. Normally, I’d probably do something a bit fancier but, I cannot go back to the grocery store. I fucking hate it there.
Last week I said I was going to try this recipe from Real Simple. I lied. Well, I didn’t lie but things just did not work out and the pork ended up in the freezer. I will try it soon and when I do I will let you know how it comes out. Now, go get some Taco Bell or something!
Here is the part where I go off on a little side note. I feel like I have to...For five years, while I was in college, I worked in a Mexican restaurant. It was in an industrial park and across the street from my college so we served lots of business people and students. Every year, for Cinco de Mayo we had a huge party which included a tent in the parking lot and perhaps a band or music. The work day began at about 10 AM and didn’t end until 12 AM. Hopefully, if you had a good day, you made bank that day. I almost always did. I was cute back then! I mean, I was a stellar waitress.
My friend, Malbie, reminded me last night about the occasion when our good friend came to visit me at work with her on Cinco de Mayo. He proceeded to get extremely drunk. Over served! He then, got upset about something ridiculous (I don't recall what) and declared he was walking home. It was about 6 miles back to our apartment where he was staying. Needless to say, he did not make it home. Instead, he got picked up by campus police and taken to the local hospital. This is the same friend who, while peeing in public on his 21st birthday, informed a police officer that he was, “Taking a piss! What does it look like?” While, I’m not planning on getting arrested today (not planning but, stranger things have happened), I do intend to have a couple margaritas; I feel like I ought to toast our good friend! I owe it to him! It’s been 10 years! OMG, we are old! I don't know anybody who has been arrested lately! This is yet another definite sign of old age! Shit!
Anyway, nostalgia aside, I love Mexican food. It’s probably my all-time favorite so I am definitely using today as an excuse to make some. I’m trying this particular recipe because I have all the ingredients and I won’t have to go back to the grocery store for the sixth time in a week. Normally, I’d probably do something a bit fancier but, I cannot go back to the grocery store. I fucking hate it there.
Last week I said I was going to try this recipe from Real Simple. I lied. Well, I didn’t lie but things just did not work out and the pork ended up in the freezer. I will try it soon and when I do I will let you know how it comes out. Now, go get some Taco Bell or something!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
I Learned It By Watching You, Okay?
When I was pregnant with Bird, we had about a thousand conversations about what traits she would get from each of us. It wasn’t just the physical we discussed; it was everything. We are both good people (mostly) and, naturally, we were hoping she’d get the best of both of us. The internet is not large enough for me to discuss those qualities of mine that I hope she does not inherit…
At only two and a half years-old, I can already see many similarities in Bird and her perfect (cough) parents. She’s definitely got Bread’s stubbornness, hence the marathon tantrum sessions. She’s smart (him again). She is obsessed with all things girlie. I did not do it on purpose; she has a vanity where she styles her hair and gazes lovingly into the mirror. She loves princesses. I’m not exactly sure how this evolved; we are just going to roll with it since it allows me to do her hair daily. She also has an opinion on everything (I’ve no clue where this came from- wink, wink).
Bread and I are both avid readers. I love books. I am obsessed. I stalk Borders for new releases and then quick and request them from the library because we cannot front my addiction. I fall asleep every night, with a book, in bed. I wish I could read on the treadmill or elliptical but it makes me sick. I can’t read in the car either (as a passenger, I am not one of those crazy people who tries to read while driving). So, of all the things we’ve taught her and she’s inherited thus far, Bird’s love of reading is what I love best. Or, at least, it's on my top ten list. It's hard to pick just one; she's so great!
We started reading to her when she was three months old. I would read Goodnight Moon to her before bed. By the time she was nine months old, she was completely obsessed with books. She used to climb up the stairs, go into her bedroom and sit on the floor and read for hours. She will curl up on my bed with me, insisting I read the twenty books she just brought with her. At any given time, I have easily twenty or thirty children’s books checked out of the library; we go at least once a week.
I am planning to do everything in my power to keep her reading. In elementary and middle school, I used to love library day. I was always disappointed because we could only check out one book a week and that wasn’t enough for me. Of course I hid how much I loved to read because it wasn’t cool. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only reason I was not cool so I don’t think it was really necessary. Ah, the joys of adolescence.
I am very much looking forward to reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s series of books. I want to read her Charlotte’s Web, Anne of Green Gables, Bezus and Ramona and someday maybe we can tackle some Jane Austen. The list is endless and I know Bread has his too.
For now we are enjoying the Fancy Nancy series of books. She also thoroughly enjoys Pinkalicious. She often picks up one of my novels and forces me to read a page or two. We are just going to keep reading and hope it sticks with her. It’s already apparent that pushing her into things will not work. We’ll definitely keep nudging, though.
At only two and a half years-old, I can already see many similarities in Bird and her perfect (cough) parents. She’s definitely got Bread’s stubbornness, hence the marathon tantrum sessions. She’s smart (him again). She is obsessed with all things girlie. I did not do it on purpose; she has a vanity where she styles her hair and gazes lovingly into the mirror. She loves princesses. I’m not exactly sure how this evolved; we are just going to roll with it since it allows me to do her hair daily. She also has an opinion on everything (I’ve no clue where this came from- wink, wink).
Bread and I are both avid readers. I love books. I am obsessed. I stalk Borders for new releases and then quick and request them from the library because we cannot front my addiction. I fall asleep every night, with a book, in bed. I wish I could read on the treadmill or elliptical but it makes me sick. I can’t read in the car either (as a passenger, I am not one of those crazy people who tries to read while driving). So, of all the things we’ve taught her and she’s inherited thus far, Bird’s love of reading is what I love best. Or, at least, it's on my top ten list. It's hard to pick just one; she's so great!
We started reading to her when she was three months old. I would read Goodnight Moon to her before bed. By the time she was nine months old, she was completely obsessed with books. She used to climb up the stairs, go into her bedroom and sit on the floor and read for hours. She will curl up on my bed with me, insisting I read the twenty books she just brought with her. At any given time, I have easily twenty or thirty children’s books checked out of the library; we go at least once a week.
I am planning to do everything in my power to keep her reading. In elementary and middle school, I used to love library day. I was always disappointed because we could only check out one book a week and that wasn’t enough for me. Of course I hid how much I loved to read because it wasn’t cool. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only reason I was not cool so I don’t think it was really necessary. Ah, the joys of adolescence.
I am very much looking forward to reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s series of books. I want to read her Charlotte’s Web, Anne of Green Gables, Bezus and Ramona and someday maybe we can tackle some Jane Austen. The list is endless and I know Bread has his too.
For now we are enjoying the Fancy Nancy series of books. She also thoroughly enjoys Pinkalicious. She often picks up one of my novels and forces me to read a page or two. We are just going to keep reading and hope it sticks with her. It’s already apparent that pushing her into things will not work. We’ll definitely keep nudging, though.
Monday, May 3, 2010
They Try to Make Me Go to Rehab. I Say Yes, Yes, Yes!
What is up with celebrities and rehab? I used to think that rehab was for drug addictions and eating disorders. Now, it’s like every time some celebrity has an issue, or does something that might make them less appealing to the masses, they go to rehab. Tiger Woods was boning a bunch of chicks, so off he goes to rehab. The same went for Jesse James. I think Lindsay Lohan went to rehab for shoplifting or something. WTF? We “normal” folks just have to deal with our problems. I guess when you make millions you can go to rehab to get help with anything.
The rest of us have to own up to our stuff. We have to face the music and pay the price. Celebrities get to hide behind the curtain until everything blows over. Granted, I don’t actually know anyone who got busted for having an affair with tons of stripperesque-looking ladies, but if I did, they would so not be going to rehab. They would be at home, getting their asses kicked by their lady if she hadn’t already packed up the kids and took off.
I’ve compiled a list of things that I think I should go to rehab for: laziness, lack of interest in exercise, strong like of food, inability to end an email/text thread and addiction to social media.
I think, lately, I’ve been committing many rehab worthy offenses. I would love to go to rehab, by the way. You get therapy, so I would have someone to talk to all day! You get your meals prepared for you! I bet you even get to eat while it’s hot! I suppose you also get lots of down time which means I could read and nap all day! It sounds delightful to me. Where do I sign up?
I think I could probably go to rehab for failing to put together a proper outfit. What about for wasting too much food? Failing to put together a proper meal plan? Is feeding my child hot dogs a good enough offense? I am so boring. I need some spice. Or, maybe just some rehab…
The rest of us have to own up to our stuff. We have to face the music and pay the price. Celebrities get to hide behind the curtain until everything blows over. Granted, I don’t actually know anyone who got busted for having an affair with tons of stripperesque-looking ladies, but if I did, they would so not be going to rehab. They would be at home, getting their asses kicked by their lady if she hadn’t already packed up the kids and took off.
I’ve compiled a list of things that I think I should go to rehab for: laziness, lack of interest in exercise, strong like of food, inability to end an email/text thread and addiction to social media.
I think, lately, I’ve been committing many rehab worthy offenses. I would love to go to rehab, by the way. You get therapy, so I would have someone to talk to all day! You get your meals prepared for you! I bet you even get to eat while it’s hot! I suppose you also get lots of down time which means I could read and nap all day! It sounds delightful to me. Where do I sign up?
I think I could probably go to rehab for failing to put together a proper outfit. What about for wasting too much food? Failing to put together a proper meal plan? Is feeding my child hot dogs a good enough offense? I am so boring. I need some spice. Or, maybe just some rehab…
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