Showing posts from April, 2011

The Zoo!

We went to the zoo today. I actually drove, for a change. $15 and free admission makes for a happy combination.

Eileen led the way. She is getting to be such a young lady that we thought today, today... she could be a boy. (oh, you think that pink shirt would be the tip-off that she is a SHE? Welcome to DC, where the boys have long hair & the girls dress like Miley Cyrus) Eileen was in jeggings, and newbies. She was sorority-tastic, ready to take on the animals. 

She marched us under the trees and over the bridges until she found the tigers.

Then, she thought that she should show Da-Dee how great she can walk on the balance beam.

Until it was easier to crawl and was caught red-handed.

At the monkeys, I found it appropriate to call PETF to tell her that Eileen was growling at the monkeys. Growling, yeah I said it. "GRRRRR!" It was loud, too. Mom could hear it all the way in Georgia.

She was quite impressed with herself and her growling abilities.

And then, she wanted to see…


I love carbs.
It is really a simple statement, really, who does not? But, it is like saying I am a picky eater, which I am.
I love carbs.

If there was one meal I could have for the rest of my life, it would be turkey sandwiches with Hellmann's mayonnaise. If I had the option for a side, it would be extra crispy french fries. I'm not kidding. I love turkey sandwiches, with the crusts cut off.

I love beer. Some days, 5 o'clock rolls around, Husband is on call & it has just been a great day, or a horrible day, or it's just been a day. There is nothing better than going to the fridge, getting an ice cold bottle of beer, taking it outside and sitting and sipping and enjoying the early evening with my peanut and her juice. If Husband is home to join us, even better. I was never into liquor, it was way to potent, but I love beer like Eileen loves milk.

I love cheez-its. One summer, my first summer back home with Team Prom- as my pious companions and I called ourselves, I …


Eileen has taken this whole "picky" business to a new high... or low, depending on perception. Today, we went to Target for some household goodies. As an afterthought, I picked up a package of whole kernel corn, frozen. As we checkout, the wall-eyed cashier who was fascinated by my Georgia license did the smartest thing-- he put the corn in its own small bag, just the perfect size for Eileen.

Back at the ranch, I unload and give Eileen "her" bag and we head up to the apartment. Eileen said, "OHHHH!" with a little sass on her face, placed her Target bag in the crook of her elbow, and sauntered off. All she needed were her sunglasses and I would truly have a mini-me. Between P2 & the 7th floor, an idea hit me much like the Grinch on Christmas Eve. A wonderfully, marvelous, awful idea.

Eileen is going to maker her lunch today. Maybe then I can trick her into eating something besides Mickey Mouse chicken-parts chicken nuggets and ketchup. (Please don'…

Hippity Hoppity, Easter's on its way!

Okay, so Easter came and went & we came and went with it, but, boy did we have fun! The Cannons and their two precious daughters joined us for a festive day of mimosas, ham, mac and cheese, biscuits, and the coup de gras was homemade strawberry ice cream with fresh strawberries. I kid you not. This domestic goddess can't sew a button on a shirt, but I pulled out all the stops for our guests and made ice cream. It was, ahem, if I do say so myself, excellent.
Catherine, the eldest of their daughters seemed to think so, too. At first, she was hesitant about the pink stuff in front of her. She gingerly placed her finger in the bowl and then her eye lit up like the fourth of July. She tried to get the spoon to her mouth; no luck. The useless utensil was thrown across the room and with one hand, the little 13 month old picked up the bowl and the other hand became a shovel to push the goodness in faster. A brain freeze slowed her for a second, but then she was back on it. With her bow…

small spaces = creativity

Creativity... with a hammer and a few nails... Husband might have to just throw out them out as I found where he hid them... (and, see that pink thing hanging off the door knob? That is our child lock, made out of a pink grosgrain ribbon. Budgets & small spaces, I should say, make for creativity.)


My little Eileen has chores. Nothing impressive and certainly more time consuming for me to give her the responsibility of helping the M-O-M, but she enjoys her tasks and I enjoy her help and company.

As I fold clothes, she pulls out the socks. When we are loading the dishwasher, I hand her the forks, knives, and spoons to be placed in their proper slot. Unloading involves lids and pots with only the occasional, "Hep, mama." Vacuuming, well, when Husband is vacuuming as I loathe the noise, she has her duster and runs along the base boards and when we make the bed, she hands me the pillow cases, "Mama, here."

She is my little sous chef in the kitchen as well and has become quite acclimated at stirring, cracking eggs, and throwing flour. She can get the ingredients out of the pantry and bring them to me before gleefully running off for the next. Each trip to the pantry ends with a, "Fishie!" (No honey, it is not time for a Goldfish.) Eileen also puts away c…

My Little Person

Eileen is no longer a baby- I’m sure to a stranger she looks that way but to me, to me she is a tiny human. And a cute one, too. She runs, jumps, and tries her best to communicate in a variety of fashions. Her independence is blooming in a very positive way that lets her mother know that there will be turmoil ahead, but we will have a good time getting through it.  She has quite the shoe fetish and spends most of her morning picking out shoes, trying them on, saying, “Noooo...” removing and trying a new pair. They do not always match whatever smocked frilly thing I have on her, but it gives her a chance to make a decision and whatever decision she makes, I can live with it.  She counts.  Me- “oneeeeee” Her- “TWO!” Me- “threeeeee” Her- “Fa” Me- “fiveeeeeee” Her- “Sis” Me- “Sevennnnn” Her- “AT!” Me- “Eileen, what comes after EIGHTTTT?” Her- “NINE!”  She knows her vowels and can say most of her letters, even if she has no idea what they look like. Except for “E” -- she has “E” down like it is her job…

In the city.

In the city, you improvise- a lot.

For instance, today our balcony needed to be cleaned with outdoor debris having accumulated over the past 5 months.

The vacuum was ineffective, but the hair dryer... the hair dryer worked like a champ. We are ready for spring, Mother Nature!


Happy Saturday

At this moment, I am laying in bed in my new blue nightgown, between fresh sheets and a breeze coming in from eternally open window. Next to me is Eileen in my favorite pink jammies. $44 were spent several months ago for these very decadent jammies that are worth every penny. On the far side of the bed is Husband, holding Eileen's crackers and pretending that BeBe (the world's ugliest monkey) is snoring for her. Mickey Mouse is on the TV and we are waiting for our breakfast to cook.

This is just one of those moments that I want to capture and remember before Husband has to go back to work and the terrible twos set in. The forecast says rain and it is overcast outside our bedroom window. But, inside 705 it is beautiful and sunny.

I have plans this afternoon to Mac-I-Fy a friend, so I will be heading to Georgetown for shopping in a bit. We have a gala to attend this evening, which is a word that makes me smile- Gala. It just sounds pretentious. It does roll off better than "…

Before Southern Living (AKA, the Bible) hijacks my ingenious idea

So, I went home for a month. Day 1 back at the homestead, I found an box of ANCIENT recipes. All kinds of things-- old envelopes, GB&T deposit slips, receipts, actual recipe cards... you know, those things found when a hand starts fumbling in a purse as the greatest thing ever tasted has to be written down. And then...itgetstossedinadrawer, completely forgotten. the handwriting of both my grandmothers brought memories for everyone. My great grandmother's tricks in the kitchen were found- handwriting identified by my father. Midway through, I found an old envelope with blue ink and grease stains. Both my parents said, "OH! That's the very best Cesear salad in the world!" When they were first married, some guy owned some restaurant in some town in South Carolina. After much fanagling, he finally gave away his secrets.
All kinds of cool things. My great grandparents saved menus from their travels on the West Coast. Still in a box, collecting dust. There were telegram…