So, one of these days, I'm going to get around to writing a post about my love for Costco. My obsession with this retail establishment goes way, way back. I haven't been able to find the words just yet. But, until then, I shall share with you one of my new loves.
Bargain shopper that I am, I will buy almost anything if it's on sale. We eat healthy: fruits, veggies and lean meats. But, I do love carbs. I am usually a sucker for sweets but lately I've really been feeling the salty. I have become obsessed with avocados. Which, as you know, are very good and good for you. I have been making guacamole and dipping veggies in it. Until yesterday when I discovered these chips.
These are significantly better for you than regular tortilla chips. They are made with Quinoa! They have fiber! And, they are delicious. If you're a Costco member there is a $2 off coupon. Since I am the Domestic Diva, I thought it only appropriate to share this discovery with you.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Boy Crazy Bird
There is something going on in our house that I have been hesitant to talk about. Because, everybody knows that as soon as you mention something you have any sort of discomfort about, the shit hits the fan. Well, here goes- our two year-old is boy crazy. I'm not kidding.
She turned two in October. About this time she took a strong liking to all things Disney Princess. I did not push this on her. It just happened. The next thing I know, it was all princess all the time. It's almost as though nothing else exists.
Very slowly, she started to bring up Prince Charming. She was pointing him out in the movies, talking about him in the books and asking a lot of questions about him. I didn't think too much about it until recently.
Bread has mentioned, on more than one occasion, that Bird will never be able to date. I laugh at this. He says he was a boy once and he knows what boys think about girls and therefore there's no way he's ever letting his little girl go out. At least not until she's 30. I scoff. That's ridiculous.
Until last week. We were eating breakfast and out of absolutely nowhere, she turns to me, dead serious and says, "I want to go to the beach with Prince Charming, shut my eyes and take a rest." I choked. For one, it was hilarious, especially the part where she cinched her eyes closed. And for two, where in the hell did she come up with that? I didn't tell her that! I know Bread certainly didn't bring that up.
As if the proclamation of wanting to head to the beach with Charming wasn't enough to confirm my suspicions, the other night Bird met one of my brother's friends, Nick. Simply put, she was infatuated. She kept saying hi and at one point she gave him this really, cool, casual wave. The type of wave 16 year-old girls across the country are practicing in their mirrors. She also called him Rick and Dick. Way to throw him off the scent. WTF? She's playing games with these boys? I cannot condone this behavior.
Then, then, oh yes, there is more. Yesterday, we had a nice, twenty-something lad working on our bathroom. He initially came over the weekend to talk with Bread, then was back yesterday to actually do the work. He showed up while she was still in bed. Once she found out who was in our bathroom, she wouldn't stop. Where is Brandon? What is he doing? Where did he go? At one point, she even referred to him as Eric (Ariel from The Little Mermaid's love interest). Alas, I can deny it no more, my two year-old is boy crazy and she likes much, much older men. She has zero interest in boys her own age.
How did this happen? What should we do? Is this normal? I know that every parent wants their child to be advanced. I think this is taking it a step too far. I'm officially in agreement with Bread. She is not dating. EVER. I suppose if I was going to look on the bright side, which I'm so not, I should be glad that all she wants to do with Prince Charming is "shut her eyes and take a rest."This also confirms my theory that her tantrums are because she's premenstrual. It could be worse, right?
She turned two in October. About this time she took a strong liking to all things Disney Princess. I did not push this on her. It just happened. The next thing I know, it was all princess all the time. It's almost as though nothing else exists.
Very slowly, she started to bring up Prince Charming. She was pointing him out in the movies, talking about him in the books and asking a lot of questions about him. I didn't think too much about it until recently.
Bread has mentioned, on more than one occasion, that Bird will never be able to date. I laugh at this. He says he was a boy once and he knows what boys think about girls and therefore there's no way he's ever letting his little girl go out. At least not until she's 30. I scoff. That's ridiculous.
Until last week. We were eating breakfast and out of absolutely nowhere, she turns to me, dead serious and says, "I want to go to the beach with Prince Charming, shut my eyes and take a rest." I choked. For one, it was hilarious, especially the part where she cinched her eyes closed. And for two, where in the hell did she come up with that? I didn't tell her that! I know Bread certainly didn't bring that up.
As if the proclamation of wanting to head to the beach with Charming wasn't enough to confirm my suspicions, the other night Bird met one of my brother's friends, Nick. Simply put, she was infatuated. She kept saying hi and at one point she gave him this really, cool, casual wave. The type of wave 16 year-old girls across the country are practicing in their mirrors. She also called him Rick and Dick. Way to throw him off the scent. WTF? She's playing games with these boys? I cannot condone this behavior.
Then, then, oh yes, there is more. Yesterday, we had a nice, twenty-something lad working on our bathroom. He initially came over the weekend to talk with Bread, then was back yesterday to actually do the work. He showed up while she was still in bed. Once she found out who was in our bathroom, she wouldn't stop. Where is Brandon? What is he doing? Where did he go? At one point, she even referred to him as Eric (Ariel from The Little Mermaid's love interest). Alas, I can deny it no more, my two year-old is boy crazy and she likes much, much older men. She has zero interest in boys her own age.
How did this happen? What should we do? Is this normal? I know that every parent wants their child to be advanced. I think this is taking it a step too far. I'm officially in agreement with Bread. She is not dating. EVER. I suppose if I was going to look on the bright side, which I'm so not, I should be glad that all she wants to do with Prince Charming is "shut her eyes and take a rest."This also confirms my theory that her tantrums are because she's premenstrual. It could be worse, right?
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Manic Monday
In the old days, when I dreamt of a fantastic life as a domestic goddess, I envisioned having ample leisure time. I would care for my husband, our daughter and our two dogs while still having plenty of time to write a novel, have a blog and organize everything in our house. And then reality set in. While that’s certainly not what actually goes on here, at least I put forth a gallant effort (in my eyes, in comparison to nobody, but whatever).
The truth is: I’m not as fit as I’d like to be, I do not clean as much as I should and I don’t spend nearly enough time working on my novel (or any time but that’s irrelevant). Sometimes I find it difficult to get motivated. I think I am not very good at managing my time. Lately, the tantrums have been wiping me of all my energy; it takes a lot of mental strength to handle that without losing your cool.
One of my biggest disillusions about stay-at-home motherhood is that Mondays would no longer be Mondays. I mean, it would just be another day. I would always feel like every day was a weekend and I would no longer have that dreaded lump in my gut that started somewhere in the middle of Sunday afternoon couch time. While the lump has long gone away, Monday is still Monday. I still have responsibilities. I have to grocery shop. I need to make a meal plan. The laundry pile is growing. I still have to walk the dogs, deal with the clutter and empty the dishwasher. Maybe it doesn’t matter to the people next store if I do all these things but it does matter to us. It’s our house. It’s our lives' and things need to go a certain way in order for everybody here to be happy.
Sometimes, especially in what feels like it should be the end of winter even though I know we probably still have at least another month, the day-to-day starts to feel a bit mundane. I’m sick of being stuck indoors. Last week we had a taste of warm weather, just enough to get the bug, and now it somehow feels ickier than when it was 20 degrees outside. There is mud everywhere. Everything is brown. I’m tired. I just want to hide under the covers with a book. I wish I could call in sick.
While I can’t have a sick day, I do have the luxury of deciding what I want to do today. I have the sweetest little girl, who wants me to “play kitchen.” She also just told me, despite my unwashed hair and lack of makeup, that I “look beautiful today.” I wouldn’t trade that for a million sick days.
The truth is: I’m not as fit as I’d like to be, I do not clean as much as I should and I don’t spend nearly enough time working on my novel (or any time but that’s irrelevant). Sometimes I find it difficult to get motivated. I think I am not very good at managing my time. Lately, the tantrums have been wiping me of all my energy; it takes a lot of mental strength to handle that without losing your cool.
One of my biggest disillusions about stay-at-home motherhood is that Mondays would no longer be Mondays. I mean, it would just be another day. I would always feel like every day was a weekend and I would no longer have that dreaded lump in my gut that started somewhere in the middle of Sunday afternoon couch time. While the lump has long gone away, Monday is still Monday. I still have responsibilities. I have to grocery shop. I need to make a meal plan. The laundry pile is growing. I still have to walk the dogs, deal with the clutter and empty the dishwasher. Maybe it doesn’t matter to the people next store if I do all these things but it does matter to us. It’s our house. It’s our lives' and things need to go a certain way in order for everybody here to be happy.
Sometimes, especially in what feels like it should be the end of winter even though I know we probably still have at least another month, the day-to-day starts to feel a bit mundane. I’m sick of being stuck indoors. Last week we had a taste of warm weather, just enough to get the bug, and now it somehow feels ickier than when it was 20 degrees outside. There is mud everywhere. Everything is brown. I’m tired. I just want to hide under the covers with a book. I wish I could call in sick.
While I can’t have a sick day, I do have the luxury of deciding what I want to do today. I have the sweetest little girl, who wants me to “play kitchen.” She also just told me, despite my unwashed hair and lack of makeup, that I “look beautiful today.” I wouldn’t trade that for a million sick days.
My Precious
One of the greatest parts of my day, aside from getting to spend most of it hanging out with my little Bird, is getting the mail. Since we live in the mid-west, where winter seems to last for about eight months, we spend a lot of time at home. I usually know when the mail arrives because one of my dogs will bark. It’s like I can barely contain myself to get out there and get those bills, because 70 percent of what we receive are bills. But, I also get magazines. I love them! It’s like Christmas at the beginning of the month when they start to come.
Magazines are like the best deal ever. You pay $10 or $20 a year and get delightful little snippets of whatever you love coming directly to your door. In your mailbox! Once a month! Glorious!
I have weird little magazine rituals. I hate, hate, hate when anyone tries to rea> them before me. If you’re someone I know and I’ve let you read my magazine before me consider yourself blessed. This is not something I reserve for others. They are mine! Mine! Mine! But, I don’t like to read them right away. I save them. I don’t know exactly what I’m saving them for. Is it a rainy day? Perhaps it is to fill a lull between books? Maybe it's so I'll have something to do if we ever actually need to use our bomb shelter. There is no rhyme or reason for it. We all have our things.
What I love most about magazines is that you don’t have to read them all at once. If you have a few minutes you can read a page or two and move on. It’s a good early-morning pick-me-up. A good naptime break or something to do when you’ve finished all your chores (does this ever really happen, I think better said it would be when you have given up on ever having a clean house) and you want to read while your child watches Sesame Street. I know the publishing houses have my name. I am constantly getting mail asking me to subscribe to this or that magazine for $10 a year. I have to say no. Enough is enough. I am a sucker for a good deal; my mom taught me well.
I think you can tell a lot about a person based on what they read. I have used my magazines to keep in touch with the person I was before motherhood as well as to embrace the person I am now. I subscribe to Real Simple, The Food Network Magazine, Rachael Ray, Parents, Self, Shape, Marie Claire, Taste of Home and Fitness. The thing I find most amusing about my little magazine obsession? Each and every month, I get to the end of the month/beginning of the next and when I check into my magazine stock, I always, always have at least two of the health and exercise magazines left. Hmmm…What does this say? I like to eat. I like to cook. I like to read but I don’t necessary like to move. Another post for another day, my friends…
Whatcha reading?
Friday, March 12, 2010
Ch-Ch-Ch Changes
Happy Friday to all! If you're a fellow stay-at-homer, this may or may not mean anything to you. It doesn't really mean much to me since Bread typically works at least a half day on Saturdays. This has always been the way of his career so I'm used to it. Sundays are my happy day.
Fridays are a fun cooking day around here. Since we are living on a single income and have a child with a peanut allergy that restaurants don't take very seriously, we don't go out to dinner as often as we used to. Back when I had a job, Fridays were usually a day to go out. Who am I kidding? So were Saturdays, Sundays and pretty much ever other day of the week. Anyway, on Friday's I try to make something restaurant-ish. Meaning: something that's maybe not so good for us. Usually, it's pizza, enchiladas or some sort of grilled sandwich.
Tonight we are having lasagna. It's one of Bread's favorites. I received the ultimate compliment from him in regards to my lasagna which is actually my mom's. He said he liked it better than his mom's. If you have a husband, wife or significant other who enjoys food, their mother's food in particular, you know this is indeed fantastic.
But, I recently feel in love with The Pioneer Woman and her blog. She has an amazing sounding lasagna recipe. I really want to try it. Should I rock the boat? This is a big decision. Bread likes his food. I could really throw him off with this.
I am still undecided. It's not like he won't eat it; he pretty much eats everything. Bread is a hard-working man and I like to have him well fed.
You know it's a good day when the biggest decision you have to make is what lasagna recipe to use and you don't need to go to the grocery store either way. Life is good! Enjoy your weekend!
Fridays are a fun cooking day around here. Since we are living on a single income and have a child with a peanut allergy that restaurants don't take very seriously, we don't go out to dinner as often as we used to. Back when I had a job, Fridays were usually a day to go out. Who am I kidding? So were Saturdays, Sundays and pretty much ever other day of the week. Anyway, on Friday's I try to make something restaurant-ish. Meaning: something that's maybe not so good for us. Usually, it's pizza, enchiladas or some sort of grilled sandwich.
Tonight we are having lasagna. It's one of Bread's favorites. I received the ultimate compliment from him in regards to my lasagna which is actually my mom's. He said he liked it better than his mom's. If you have a husband, wife or significant other who enjoys food, their mother's food in particular, you know this is indeed fantastic.
But, I recently feel in love with The Pioneer Woman and her blog. She has an amazing sounding lasagna recipe. I really want to try it. Should I rock the boat? This is a big decision. Bread likes his food. I could really throw him off with this.
I am still undecided. It's not like he won't eat it; he pretty much eats everything. Bread is a hard-working man and I like to have him well fed.
You know it's a good day when the biggest decision you have to make is what lasagna recipe to use and you don't need to go to the grocery store either way. Life is good! Enjoy your weekend!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I'm NOT Watching Trashy TV All Day
I thoroughly believe that all things relating to babies and children fall into one of three categories: Things We Knew, Things We Thought We Knew and Things Nobody Told Me. The biggest category, in my experience is Things Nobody Told Me. I will probably write several posts on this subject because it often baffles me. I often find myself wondering how it was possible for me not to know about something or other prior to giving birth. Perhaps I was thinking about how when it comes to some things, ignorance is bliss.
Recently, my friend Jackie, who frequently texts me from her job, sent me a message saying she was done working, she was ready to quit and sit on the couch watching trashy TV all day (until I typed this up I didn’t realize this but, is she implying that’s what I do all day? WTF?). Now,this was one of those days where parenting and Chinese Water Torture feel like the same thing. My words to her were something along the lines of, “No actually, keep your job. DO NOT QUIT. I dedicate entire days to this child and she does this to me. She is a demon. Go to work. Pay somebody to watch your child and keep your sanity.”
Jackie tells me she thinks this is funny. I love an audience and for me she’s easy so I keep it up. I know she’s laughing. I know she’s at work and she’s having a bad day so I offer up some comic relief. Finally she tells me I have to stop because people are staring at the crazy lady who is hysterically laughing to herself. I tell her she has to stop because she might wet herself. This is another side effect of having kids. THINGS THEY DON’T TELL YOU. Yes, it’s true. After you have a baby, you might leak a little bit (or hell, I don’t know, maybe even piss your pants) when you laugh, cry, cough or sneeze. Yep, it happens.
So ladies, when you are exercising to try and get your pre-pregnancy body back don’t forget to work “those” muscles too.
Recently, my friend Jackie, who frequently texts me from her job, sent me a message saying she was done working, she was ready to quit and sit on the couch watching trashy TV all day (until I typed this up I didn’t realize this but, is she implying that’s what I do all day? WTF?). Now,this was one of those days where parenting and Chinese Water Torture feel like the same thing. My words to her were something along the lines of, “No actually, keep your job. DO NOT QUIT. I dedicate entire days to this child and she does this to me. She is a demon. Go to work. Pay somebody to watch your child and keep your sanity.”
Jackie tells me she thinks this is funny. I love an audience and for me she’s easy so I keep it up. I know she’s laughing. I know she’s at work and she’s having a bad day so I offer up some comic relief. Finally she tells me I have to stop because people are staring at the crazy lady who is hysterically laughing to herself. I tell her she has to stop because she might wet herself. This is another side effect of having kids. THINGS THEY DON’T TELL YOU. Yes, it’s true. After you have a baby, you might leak a little bit (or hell, I don’t know, maybe even piss your pants) when you laugh, cry, cough or sneeze. Yep, it happens.
So ladies, when you are exercising to try and get your pre-pregnancy body back don’t forget to work “those” muscles too.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
This is the Part where Reality Sets In
Despite it being well over a year since I began my new life as Domestic Diva, I still have a hard time accepting this. It's not glamorous. I no longer need high-heeled shoes. Pencil skirts are a thing of the past. I suppose I could still wear these things but I'd look like a nutter chasing my two year-old in that getup. I don't need any extra help in the crazy department.
The reality of my life just hit me. I just made pot roast in the crock pot. That's not so bad, right? I was wearing a giant bathrobe and a blue face mask. Multi-tasking? At least it's a dill pot roast...
The reality of my life just hit me. I just made pot roast in the crock pot. That's not so bad, right? I was wearing a giant bathrobe and a blue face mask. Multi-tasking? At least it's a dill pot roast...
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