Showing posts from June, 2014

PSA, Part II

My last post was a PSA. My next post was going to be all about making homemade strawberry milk as we went strawberry picking last Friday.
But making strawberry milk- while entertaining to a five year old- is not nearly as entertaining to a 33 year old. Nor would it have been as entertaining to you- my faithful reader. The pictures, while beautiful, would be a blip on your entertainment radar.
LMC and I thought that we should make jam with our 300 pounds of fresh strawberries that we had withering away in our fridge. This makes sense to me- it's 95 degrees outside, we have 180 square feet of window in our kitchen, which makes it a balmy 79 in the house. Clearly, clearly I need to be standing over a vat of boiling water and a separate vat of boiling strawberries. 
Clearly- this is a good idea.
With a five year old. 
300 pounds of strawberries hulled, 300 pounds of strawberries individually counted into the food processor by said five year old and 300 pounds of strawberries measured …


I thought that it would be fun for LMC and her best bud to make homemade corn dogs. But first, I must confess--

I have never had a corn dog.


I've never eaten at Taco Bell either, but that's a different story.

Okay, so corn dogs. A-L-L the recipes out there say that they are "easy"
They are "fun"
They are "delicious"
They are "simple" ... and you can just "whip them up."

Guess what, Dr. Wikipedia?

The Internet was not invented by Al Gore and it lies.

It lies big fat lies that make liars out of us.

They might have been easy- Easy to make, that is. But easy equates to "not messy" in my book. And they certainly weren't that. Scratch that off the adjective list.

They were not that fun, because they were that messy. The kids quickly escaped the gooey cornbread "dough" to play with glass and chase each other with scissors. I was helpless to help them, as I was up to my eyeballs in gooeyness. The oil was p…

Let it Go

If anyone out there is the mother of a daughter under 4 and a half feet tall, you know all about Elsa.

And Ana.

And Frozen.

The girls play it on the playground. They run around singing "Let it Go" on repeat- complete with all the motions that Elsa so vehemently expresses herself with. They want to be Elsa, who is- for all practical purposes- a selfish Ice Queen. No big deal, she comes around in the end- thanks to her little sister and the magic of Disney. And, of course, as all little sisters do, this all started with Ana antagonizing her.

I have to confess, I had no idea about Frozen. But, I heard the song on repeat sitting outside LMC's dance lessons every Monday.

"Let it Go... Let it go... can't hold it back anymore... let it go. Let it go... something about holding it in anymore"

This was to be the dance recital song. So, I downloaded it.

Initially it was...

"Mama, can you please pray the Frozen song?"

It evolved into...

"Mama, will you pl…


My house smells like gardenias. My whole house. Probably because I have fresh clipped gardenias in every room with a handful of teeny tiny roses that I carefully took from the growing bushes in our yard. One of my favorite things to do when Bennie goes down for a nap is take LMC outside with scissors and we pick out the flowers we want to snip. After bringing them inside, LMC gets distracted with "Littlest Pet Shop" (the thing that almost replaces My Little Pony). I rinse them, clip them shorter, remove most of the leaves, and fancy myself a florist as I fuss over the little fragrant bundles of joy.

Bud vases in the bathroom, the kitchen, by my side of the bed, and especially-- especially in the girls' rooms. Ladies should wake up to fresh flowers. Even if we are working with LMC on eating like a lady, she can at least wake up like a lady- with man-size morning breath.

I once said that gardenias made me sad. And to an extent, they do. They are so pretty for just a blip i…