Simplify

This seems to be a recurring theme in blogs the past few days. You can look at a couple of thoughts by reading Miss Effie and Farm Girl.  We are collectors.  We have stuff.


Is this rant building because of the time of year?  My garbage cans are overflowing with gift wrap and boxes.  I just keep collecting stuff, stuff and more stuff.


I am a mother...I love to see my children's faces as they open their dreams on Christmas morning.  The thrill, the chills, the excitement!  I go overboard every year.  It never fails.  This has to end.


I remember the day...way back....we received socks and underwear every Christmas.  And not just any underwear....

.........homemade underwear.  

Oh, to turn back the clock, to the days of polyester panties and that scratchy elastic.  It was pure torture.


Why can't my children want those simple things in life?  Their list includes video games, computer programs, computers and the tungsten mine to manufacture all of the above mentioned items....it just gets bigger and bigger and more and more and more.....we are always trying to out do each other and keep up with the Jones'.  


So my goal is to simplify my life.  I may have to find that pantie pattern...

A Merry Christmas to all, and to all Llamas...a Good Night!

Christmas Wishes and Good Cheer 

to All this Beautiful Christmas Eve!

Our Family Christmas tree this year was rescued from my mothers garbage.  It just needed the old lights cut off and new lights strung.  I have been looking for a tall skinny tree like this for a few years and I always thought Mom's was perfect!  

And now I think it really is......

Even the Llamas are anxiously awaiting morning 

so they can be unwrapped....

Driving a car is like driving a shopping cart....observations in a grocery store

So the refrigerator is empty once again, so it is off to the grocery store once again. Now, I don't know about you, but I detest going anywhere this time of year.  Everyone is in a hurry, they cut you off, stop in intersections and block you from turning left....and those monster vehicles!  Who do they think they are taking up the whole road?

Surprisingly, all of those crazy drivers have the same driving habits when it comes to their shopping carts!  

There is the speed shopper.  Running shoes on and the kids seat belted in the cart for those high speed right hand turns into the next aisle.  Groceries are just tossed over the kids head into the basket.  Every once in a while they will stop for a Chinese fire drill, as Mom deploys her minions out of the cart to retrieve something she has forgotten in aisle 5.

The dodge and duck.  You know the ones I mean.  As they drive down the road they swoop in between every parked car on the right just to swing back out into traffic once again....oh, yes, he was at the store today too.  Come on mister!  Commit to the aisle or stand back to read the aisle menus before turning in!  

The lane changer.  Weaving from left to right all the way down the aisle, sometimes picking items off the shelf, but most of the time just going for the slalom downhill record.

The hurry up and make me wait.  Always in such a huge hurry that they have to move into the intersection on the yellow light because they are special and have places to go.  Then they sit there through the red light, blocking all the cars wanting to turn left.  I think these are the same people that park right in front of the store to run in for that pack of cigarettes or gallon of milk because they are just that special.

And then there are those monster mega family suburbans that just take the space they want, when they want it.  Extra lanes on the road and taking up four parking spaces so they have room to navigate the get away.  Yes sir-ee. She was there today too.  I did actually comment to her about her technique of shopping.  Her theory was to never enter the aisle with her double wide.  Yes. You heard me right.  She had two  shopping carts.  She would park both carts at the end of an aisle, then dash in to grab an arm load of items, returning to the carts to drop them in.  This concept gives new meaning to only shopping the outside of the store.  She never had to back up or turn around.  No awkward three point turns for her!

We were able to escape with our essentials, thirty packages of Buddig meat, some snobby cheese, cereal and milk....all without any insurance claims needing to be filed.

The Best Part Of Waking Up......

Sing with me now.....mmmmm.  The first cup of coffee in the morning.  There is nothing better to get you going in the morning.

Tall Man is home for Christmas.  He even treated me to a cup of steaming hot joe this morning.  It arrived with bubbles on top.....bubbles.

I asked about the bubbles.  Tall Man said he used a straw and added them.......

Did I ever tell you I have a Keurig?  Sometimes, sure, there are a few bubbles from the jet spew of the hot water being forced through the little plastic cup.  I didn't question too much.  That had to be it.

I tasted it......

Did I mention Tall Man did the dishes the night before?


In the words of Ralphie in A Christmas Story......."It was sthoap poisoning...."

This Is Why We Don't Have Nice Things

I want to have nice things.  I try to take care of the stuff in my house, my yard, my garden.  I know, I know.  I have three children, two dogs and a Tall Man.  I should know better, right?

No matter when I decide to finally buy something nice, it doesn't stay nice long.

This is the latest mystery.

I bought it for myself because I loved the colors.  I have no idea how this could have happened.  And no one is talking…yet.

 I got new living room furniture a few years ago.    The rule?  No food in the living room. You guessed it.  There are crumbs in the cushions, chocolate smeared on the upholstery and a cup of coffee spilled down the side of the yellow silk chair...and it wasn't my coffee.

I painted the walls.  There are fingerprints in the stairways, dents from instruments in the wall, a hole by the front door  and coffee drips down the entryway wall...and it wasn't my coffee.

I found beautiful polish pottery at a thrift shop...a blueberry pattern, not easy to find.  No, it didn't have coffee spilled on it.  It was placed under the broiler to brown something and it split in half.  Pottery under the broiler?

The new kitchen floor lasted about 30 minutes without a scratch or gouge.

We won't even discuss the mud on the carpet up the stairs...yes, there is coffee spilled there too.

So I just treated myself to white sheets. And not just any white sheets....white fleece sheets.  Oh, yes, you read that correctly.  Beautiful, white, FLEECE sheets.  I am sleeping on a cloud right now.  

You can almost feel how wonderful they are. 

Heavenly sleep.

And, yes......they are going in the closet before Tall Man gets home.

Menu 12/12 - 12/17

Breakfast Casserole: Country Grits, Sausage and Cheese

Lunches: Egg Salad and leftovers

Monday – Panko Crusted Cod Fillets

Tuesday – Pasta with Meat Sauce

Wednesday –Cream of Potato Soup

Thursday – Pot Roast in slow cooker with potatoes and carrots

Friday – Kids get leftovers while Mom and Tall Man go out.

Saturday – Tall Man will make Pan Fried Steak with Heavenly Wine Reduction!!

Sunday – Homemade Pizza

All meals will be served with salad, bread and steamed vegetable that look fresh from the produce section at the store.

Part-time Chef

So along with all of my other part-time jobs listed in my very first blog, I am also the part time family chef.  I should probably be honest here.  The real chef in in the house is Tall Man.  I am the part time Pastry Chef.  But when Tall Man bugs out, I am left holding the knife. 

Now, being chef is no easy task in our family restaurant.  Man Child has food allergies.  When he was four years old, he had some sniffly, snotty nose stuff and all the normal signs of regular hayfever.  But it never cleared up as the seasons changed.  I hauled the boy off to one of our favorite doctors we have met in all of our adventures, Dr. Polly.  We tried a couple of prescriptions and the snot just would not go away.  Now here I must insert what many parents face at the dinner table.  I don’t like that…..ours was peas.  I would put them on the table and Man Child snubbed them.  He would roll them around in his mouth and then …. Spi…touey…..it would fly across the kitchen.  “They taste funny!”

We started noticing the same thing at restaurants.  Man Child would order chicken strips.  First bite and the nose would wrinkle.  “Somethin’s wrong with this….thhmmmph.”  And it would be on the table. Then we got hives.

A trip to the allergist confirmed our worse fears.  Man Child was allergic to EVERYTHING! Except cockroaches.  Yep, you heard that right.  He is NOT allergic to cockroaches.

We were shocked to find out his allergy was to peas, peanut and soy.  Well that is easy…we won’t put peas on his plate, no more peanut butter sandwiches (he hated that one because he loved peanut butter!) and ……… hmmm.  Soy. 

Soy.

We started reading labels.  Soy is in everything!  The allergist told us oils should be fine because they are refined so much that the protein is refined right out of it. (Insert the music here – I’m gonna wash that soy right outta my oil….)  So we eliminated all and then tried to introduce small amounts.  Nope…he started breaking out in hives.  So we eliminated ALL soy and derivatives of soy.  No American chocolates (soy lecithin), real dairy (thank God for Daisy Sour Cream), never on the MSG and even no SPRITE!  Haven’t figured that one out yet….

So, back to the reason for this blog today.  I am chef, hear me roar.  Since I am part-time everything, I have to try to be organized.  I can’t just microwave something or throw Stouffers Lasagna in the oven.  Go out to eat?  HA! – I do love Red Robins though – they are awesomely allergy friendly!!  Real meat and all!!

I make everything from scratch.  I bake the bread.  I create the white sauce for mushroom soup to put in casseroles.  We even roll out our own tortillas!  (I hope I get that tortilla press for Christmas.) 

Santa, are you reading this??  Could I have a few more hours in the day too?

Global Warming

Does anyone wear a coat anymore?  I am amazed at how many people....young and old....head outside without a coat.  Do you know how cold it is outside?

We moved north about thirteen years ago.  We moved from the red soils of Georgia to the Motor City.  We had a terrible time getting Peanut, Frog and the Man Child to put on a coat when they went outside.  

Be prepared.  I was taught as a child you should always be prepared as you set out of the house.  A coat, hat, scarf, gloves, bread crumbs to help find your way home and always wear clean underwear just in case you are in an accident.

Now I watch Peanut's boyfriend wear flip flops in the winter.  None of my children wear a coat anywhere.  They think they are fine just running from the car into the school.  Its not that cold out.....we are only outside for a minute....we will be fine!

I drove Man Child to school last week.  It was a crisp morning, with not much of a warm up forecast for the day.  "Where is your coat?"  " I don't have a place to put it."  What?  When did the Administration decide to remove lockers from the school?  "I am just walking from the car to the school!"  (I wish I could insert the actual audio clip of the whine in the voice.  I know you have all heard it and know what I am talking about.)  

"So what happens when you have to walk home from school?"  " I will just be a little cold, Mom.  I will be fine!  And Frog is driving home after school!"

Let's stop and think again....Be Prepared.  What are the kids taught today? Oh yeah, global warming.  Eureka!  That's it!  Why wear a coat when it is warming so.  Heck, it will be seventy degrees out by the time I get home!  I am prepared for the heat wave coming!

Well, don't call me when your fingers fall off.  And I won't drive you to the Emergency Room.  They don't treat stupidity there.

I guess I will have to replace the trumpet lessons with bugle lessons though....

Rock, Paper, Scissors

Puppy has been training over the past year.  She is a stubborn puppy.  She wants to be in charge.  She wants to be the boss.  She wants to do it her way.

Puppy is a Jack Russell.  Puppy is a TALL Jack Russell.  She is all leg and she loves to gleap.  When Puppy first came home, she would build up so much speed she would vault all the way OVER the sofa, then look around wondering what happened.

Puppy loves to greet her family and gleaps with joy as we come home.  This is a difficult trait to train out of any dog.  We have tried the knee thing, which has worked with every other Jack Russell we have ever owned.  Not Puppy.  When I bring my knee up to stop her, she takes that as an invitation to springboard over my shoulder. WHEEEE!

Last evening, I had enough.  As puppy started her gleap in the air, I held my fist out even with my chest.  Puppy’s head met squarely with my fist.  Now, let me just interject in here that I do not advocate beating dogs.  This was not my intention at all.  It was purely an accidental bonk.  Poor Puppy landed squarely on the floor with all legs spread out like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on a sheet of ice.  The eyes were spinning in her bobbling, swirling head.  She literally did not know what hit her. 

As she pulled her legs back underneath of her and built the turbo engines to gleap into the air once again, I shook my fist in the air above her and said, “Down!”

she sat…..

she looked and blink three times….

she laid down flat on the ground.

I won this round.  But when I explained this event to Tall Man, I had a sudden realization.  I will never be able to play Rock, Paper, Scissors with Puppy now.  When I throw Rock, she will instantly become Paper and I will lose.

I Have Been Restricted

So I have been nervous about how quickly my husband would throw the ax at this project.  In his line of work, perceptions can destroy you.  I know I have to behave myself, but....did you know I have a very limber leg?


I am extremely talented at sticking my foot in my mouth.


Those of you who know me can attest to this.  I don't even have to try.  It just happens.  So, I will try REALLY hard to read and review prior to postings, but, you did read the title, right?


And for now...I have been restricted.  Which means:  Until my sweetie applies for the proper access, Tall Man is unable to read my posts.

Hmmmm.  Is this a good thing, or a bad thing.......

I Used To Be Super Mom

I used to be Super Mom, but somewhere along the way I lost my cape.

I don’t know what happened.  I was always early.  I had cookies in the cookie jar.  I had laundry done and put away.  My house was always ready for  Meredith Corporation to show up and take pictures for one of their many publications.  I was ready for that phone call from Martha at anytime.  My glue gun was plugged in.

Now?  My list is long.  Where do I begin? 

A few years back, I left school one day and went to run some errands.  Little did I know I was supposed to be teaching a fourth grade class at that exact time.  What did the children find when they arrived at my classroom at their designated time?  A dark, locked classroom.  Yup, I was gone. 

I had started to forget other little things.  An appointment here and there.  They were written down.  I even looked at the calendar and knew I had to be somewhere - just never went.  I tried to laugh it off

The thing that I really started to notice though was little things from my past.  “Don’t you remember, Mom?  You told me about that one time?”  Nope.  I don’t remember.  That is the one that bothers me.

Some told me I was trying to do too much.  Some said it was stress.  I think that is when I noticed my cape was slipping.  I will add that on to my list - stitch on cape.

I haven’t been able to  catch up.  There is ALWAYS something to do that I don’t have time to do.  How did I get this done before?  Sure, I didn’t work….I was a stay at home mom.  But I did everything then with two kids in tow and one on the hip, not to mention the dog on the leash and my biggest child calling me with, “Can you fit one more in at dinner?” 

Sure I can, honey.  I am Super Mom!

I should have all the time in the world now.  One is in college, two are in high school (self-sufficient) and I only work part-time.  Part-time. 

What does that really mean?  Part time. 

It means that I never have enough time to do anything anymore.  I only have part time to work, part time to mother, part time to run errands, part time to cook and part time to wife... I digress….that is another story entirely.

So how do I become Super Mom again?  I will start by cleaning out my closet to look for my cape.  Maybe I will find my car keys along the way.