Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
It would be impossible to find the owner. If she found a wallet, it would be a different story. As it is, Heath and I are inclined to let her keep the money. What would you do?
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Soon, however, with a little prodding from you, they realize that not only are closed-mouth kisses entirely appropriate, but are desirable, encouraged, and even reciprocated. They start practicing these little kisses on the cheeks, lips, hands, and we, in turn, get a little revenge from their drooling kisses, by blowing zerberts on their bellies.
Most kids are satisfied with giving kisses that we would put in the "peck" category. Most kids. Not Georgie. Let me take you through her presentation.
Georgie crawls up on her Daddy's lap. He is happy to see her, thus giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Georgie is not satisfied with this. She puts her little hands on either side of his face, looks deeply into his eyes, and then ever so slowly, bends her head a little to the right, and fractionally moves her face closer to his, keeping his lips the center of her target.
The waiting is agony. It's just, so...wrong.
Painstakingly slow, her lips make contact with his lips. She must kiss his lips directly center, otherwise, the kiss doesn't count, and she tries again. Heath repeatedly tries to substitute his cheeks for his lips by turning his head, or he will quickly kiss her so she will end the kiss, but she will not be thwarted! She holds her hands firm on his cheeks, moves with tenderness and, dare I say sensuality, and tries to kiss him again.
Now, she is by no means trying to kiss in a "grownup way". She is just very particular about what part of his lips she wants to kiss, and by going slow, she ensures herself accuracy, and when she achieves her goal, let's just say she's not very quick to break contact. Heath and I are use to her intense display of affection at home, but today, it was a new sight to see for the congregation at church who sat around us. Georgie would not let up. She tried for a very long time to plant a "perfect" kiss on her Daddy. He tried to get it over with. He gave her quick kisses directly center on her lips, but it was over too quickly for her. She is all about quality versus quantity. I'm sure there were some old ladies who were very intrigued by this scene before them, but if they think they were witnessing any inappropriate activity, they are wrong. Georgie just wants an innocent kiss. It just happens to come across quite the opposite.
Maybe someday soon she'll be like other 3 year olds, and will most likely fight any sort of affection you try to show, but for now, the roles are reversed. It's Heath and I who shy away from her kisses. Please. Just give us a quick kiss. That's all we ask.
Friday, March 27, 2009
I love the combination of chocolate and peanut butter. In my mind, nothing beats it. I first got this recipe from Pampered Chef. I've made some slight adjustments to it. Here goes.
2 chocolate premade pie crusts (I like to get the chocolate ones, but regular graham cracker crust, or the shortbread crust also tastes great.)
2 1/2 cups cold milk
1 pkg (3.4 oz) butterscotch instant pudding
1 pkg (3.4 oz) vanilla instant pudding
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
8 oz container of cool whip
Reeses peanut butter cups
Mix together the dry pudding mixes with the milk. Add the peanut butter. Mix until thick and creamy. Fold in the cool whip. Divide evenly between the two pie crusts. Top each pie with nuts, marshmallows, chopped up Reeses peanut butter cups, and drizzle the top with chocolate syrup. Use the plastic lid that came with the pie crusts and cover. Put the pies in the freezer and freeze at least 6 hours before serving. To serve, remove pie from freezer and let thaw on countertop for about 20 minutes before eating. Keep leftover pie in the freezer.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
So, if I forced them to stay in their duct tape square, do you think I would have a clean house?
Monday, March 23, 2009
Today, I wish that person was me.
Just wondering what you all thought of that. I'd love to live on Tulip Tree Court! Tulips are my favorite flower. However, there are some street names I've come across, and I thank heaven that I don't live on that street. So I guess it does make a difference to me too. What do you think?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
So, we loaded up in the van and drove all the way around the park until we got to the Visitor's Center, where we made everyone go potty, just for insurance.
Then we took off hiking again, starting at a different trail than we've been before. That's the nice thing about this place. You can pick a new exploration site everytime you go. However, it wasn't long before a familiar scene happened again....
"Momma! I have to go potty!" It wasn't one hour since she had gone. I told her she had to hold it. She squirmed and squirmed for half an hour. Finally, I realized if we waited any longer, she was going to have an accident. So we left. It was still a nice hike, though.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Kolby drew out the winner.
Congrats to Ronnie, who said : "Your Huz is WRONG-O! Your apron is the bomb. You could hide entire waffles under those ruffles. Good Grief you sound just like "B" when you rant! Is that compliment enough?"
So, when I get done with the count, I'll randomly draw a winner. Stay tuned. Later today. I promise.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
7:30 am: Kolby wakes up and has dry cereal or oatmeal for breakfast. He doesn't want any milk interfering with his cereal, unless it's in a cup. Even better if it has the word "chocolate" in front of it. (Dream world: Kolby wakes up after sleeping in the living room and is handed scrambled eggs, muffins, cinnamon rolls and juice on a platter in front of the television so he can earn gold medals playing golf on the Wii all morning.)
8:12 am: Kolby says "Is it lunch time yet? I'm starving!" ...said repeatedly all morning long until I finally cave in around 10 am and give him a snack of crackers and orange slices. (Dream world: Kolby is given a never ending bowl of fruit snacks.)
11:30 am: Kolby comes in from playing Star Wars outside, where he has slashed sticks into pieces due to their inability to withstand his mad Light Saber skills, and has a melted cheese crustless sandwich with goldfish and craisins. (Dream World: Kolby sheds his Darth Vader costume on the ground with magnificence, spears his sandwich with his double ended light saber, trades it in for his "world famous nachos" that he makes himself, and finishes his lunch off with anything sweet he can get his hands on, and washes it all down with lemonade.)
Noon: Georgie and I walk Kolby to school if the weather is nice, and he skips the whole way, with his green hoodie sweatshirt put on, but not zipped up. (Dream World: Kolby zooms to school on his bicycle, and impresses the world with his super duper tricks and speed.)
3:30 pm: Kolby comes home from school with the other kids, drops his backpack and sweatshirt on the floor, and asks for hot chocolate to help warm himself up. Instead, he's given a more appropriate snack, like a slice of banana bread, and we get started on homework. He reads me a book. "Sam. Sam sat. Sam sat on Pam. Pam sat." I encourage him to bring me a book he hasn't already memorized, and we get working on writing out sight words. It's a struggle. Kolby could care less about doing any schoolwork. (Dream World: Kolby comes home to find me making cookies and treats for him. Anything filled with sugar! He gets to play outside all afternoon, and only comes inside to refuel.)
5:30 pm: Kolby eats dinner. Somedays it's begrudgingly. Other days, I'm the best "cooker" in the world and the dinner is the "bestest food ever!" It's a hit and miss. He eats his food, and asks "What's for dessert?" Nothing. (Dream World: Kolby is swimming in a pool of ice cream.)
7:00 pm: Bedtime. (Dream World: "Kolby, why don't you sleep in your jeans? Don't bother changing into pajamas. Oh, and why go to sleep at all? Let's just stay up all night eating jelly beans and popsicles, win more gold metals on the Wii, and wrestle with daddy.)
That's the life of Kolby. He lives for sugar, if you didn't already figure that out. The only way I can get him to do any schoolwork, is to offer him a starburst. If I do that, he'll read a book to perfection. It's all about finding that trigger that is individual to everyone. For Kolby, he'll do anything for sugar.
Now that I know what works for him, he's been doing better in his schoolwork. In fact, I had a parent/teacher conference today. Looks like Kolby is doing well enough that he will move on to 1st grade. That is good news. He's young for his class, and I thought another year would benefit him, but his teacher seems to think that with enough work throughout the summer, he will be good to go. I'm happy for him.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My third year in college, I had a stalker mailman. He was in his late 30's, with a mustache and a pot belly. He enjoyed wearing the postal carrier thigh-hugging shorts that came with his uniform, as opposed to the pants, which he grudgingly wore in the cold season. He also wore his black calf-length socks rolled down to his ankles, so he could soak up as much sun as possible when he was working his route. And work his route he did!
There must've been about 25 complexes that he was responsible for, and all of them were centered between my apartment complex, and the University. It wasn't long before the mailman started recognizing us, when my roommates and I would come down to get the mail. He would tell us if one of us got a package, or if we just got some magazines. He would also comment if I got a letter from "my missionary".
I was writing to a guy I had dated on and off through high school and college. Even though this guy had my proper address, he didn't usually put my name on the envelope. Instead, he wrote down the little nickname he had for me, which was "Sunshine". Thus I had to tell the mailman that any letters addressed as such, were meant for me, so he wouldn't send them back as "return to sender". However, this little pet name really made my mailman jealous. He would grumpily hand over my sunshine letters, and ask me why I would waste my time on a missionary when he, himself, was ready and able. At first, I was shocked. My mailman had a crush on me!
Things continued though. Sometimes he would say that he was going to keep all the letters my missionary wrote to me, instead of delivering them. "I could throw these away, you know" he would say to me. I replied that it was a federal offense to tamper with mail. After that, he tried different tactics. "The girls in 3F leave me cookies in the mailbox. Why don't you?" I told him that it would be a shame to wake up one morning and not be able to fit into his uniform shorts, all because he ate too many cookies.
Then, I would see him as I was walking to school. He would swerve his little mailtruck to the sided of the road, where I was walking, and try to start up a conversation. "So, you going to your biology class, eh?" Oh my gosh! How much did this guy know about me? I got to where I knew the 9 digit number on the back of his mailtruck, and would go out of my way to steer clear of his route.
One day, he came to me right before spring break. "I'm going to take a trip to the Bahamas for Spring Break. Gonna get some more sun on these legs. Wanna join me?" WHAT? "Uh, no thanks. You go on and have a blast." He countered back "Come on! What are ya gonna do? Sit at home and write to your boyfriend?"
Well, I guess he went on his trip. It was a nice week without him stalking me, but when he came back, he seemed to "run into me" all the time. I couldn't shake him! That guy was really persistent.
It wasn't long before the end of the semester came, and my roommates and I all filled out forwarding address cards. He personally came to our door to collect ours. (no small surprise there.) When he flipped through the stack, he stopped at my card. Under "other names", I had put down "Sunshine". He snorted at this. "Your lucky you got any of those letters. I could have totally put them as "undeliverable". I thanked him for delivering the letters and shut the door in his face.
I was very glad to see the semester come to an end, so I wouldn't have to see the mailman anymore. The following fall, I lived in a different complex that was out of his mailroute. Every once in a while, I would see his mailtruck, but he never saw me. Thank Goodness. Mailmen just know too much information. They make really great stalkers, unfortunately.
Monday, March 16, 2009
So, there are a few ways you can increase your chances to win this apron.
1. Leave me a nice comment, like "Wow. All those apron frills really hide the extra 20 pounds you are carrying...." or "I'll bet your feet smell really nice" or "I made your Swedish meatballs the other day and they were fabulous!" (of course, you can come up with your own nice comment)
2. If you are a follower, new or old, you will get an extra entry!
3. Wanna share me throughout blog land? Tell all your friends how cool I am (or try to be) ((ok, I know I'm not really that cool, but you can humor me, right?)) and you'll get an extra entry. Just let me know you linked to me.
So, if you really think this apron is ugly, don't hurt my feelings. My husband already scrunched his nose up at it, and made a suggestion that he would like it if it was the "only" thing I had on.... Anyway, I think it's adorable. Fun aprons make for fun times in the kitchen...or other places. So leave a comment if you want to win it! (I'll draw a winner on Friday!)
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Then watch as your three year old acts just as grown up and lady-like as everyone else.
Recipe for Icecream Cake will be posted soon.
Friday, March 13, 2009
First, take some pre-made meatballs (this is a super easy recipe. Go with the pre-made meatballs) and cook them in the oven for about 20 minutes on 400 degrees. Take them out and chop them up a bit.
Next, take your hoagie rolls, open them up, and drizzle the insides of them with olive oil, generously. Broil these in your oven for a few minutes, until lightly brown.
Top the bread with meatballs, and then top that with cheese. We used mozzarella cheese. Put them back under the broiler until the cheese is brown and bubbly.
Remove them from the oven, and turn it off. You are done broiling. Top your hoagie bread pizzas with a desired amount of heated marinara sauce. From here, you can eat it like a pizza, or you can top it with a plain toasted top half of the hoagie and eat it like a sub sandwich. Your choice. Either way, it's dang good. Feel free to add your variations to this recipe. Enjoy.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
It was a whirlwind, for a first labor, and nobody in my family believed me, when they finally showed up hours after I had called them, and told them I had already had her. My parents even stopped and had breakfast, casually enjoying the morning, only to show up to find out they had missed the whole thing. Of course, who would have guessed that things would have happened so fast? Certainly not me.
Here we are the day we got home from the hospital, 24 hours after Kamy was born. Fresh new parents, with an ugly couch to boot.
Kamy was a very happy baby. She grew into a fun and energetic toddler.
In this next picture, she is almost 4 years old.
Now she is 9 years old and feeling very grown up. She is looking forward to reading the Harry Potter series when she is 10, babysitting when she is 11, and getting her ears pierced when she is 12.
For her birthday, she requested strawberry muffins for breakfast, with yogurt and orange juice. I bought her a special lunchable for lunch, with mini hamburgers. She brought 30 sugar cookies to school, to share with her teachers and classmates. For dinner, she wanted broccoli soup with ham and swiss toast, and for her birthday dessert, she chose ice cream sundaes.
Her presents included a scooter, three sweaters, and the Narnia Book Set. She is having about 7 of her girlfriends over Saturday morning for a tea party, where everyone will come adorned with fancy hats and long pretty dresses.
Happy Birthday Kamyren! (Here is our family birthday picture)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
You look to the nightstand in search of the alarm clock. Hmm...it's not there. You remember that Georgie took it downstairs a few days ago, when you asked her to bring a blanket. It was downstairs by the couch, keeping time for the cushions. Well, you'd best get up and see what time it is.
On the way downstairs, you wake up Kamy and Keaton, and tell them to get moving. They stretch and yawn and don't seem interested in following your request immediately. They have plenty of time, though, you think. But doubt still creeps into your mind as you wander downstairs in search of the clock.
The clock on the far wall is too masked by darkness to see, so you meander over to your laptop, plop yourself down in the chair, move the mouse to bring up the screen, and look at the clock. Then you look again. Then you rub your eyes, because that can't be the right time! Then you look again!!!
Oh Crap. It was already a few minutes PAST the time when the kids walk out the door. Crap!
You run upstairs and instill fear in your kids. You tell them they have two minutes to get themselves dressed, complete with shoes and socks, and get their teeth brushed, because they were already late for school!
They continue on getting ready, exponentially increasing their normal speed, and you run down the stairs to start making their lunches. You put together peanut butter and honey sandwiches, along with a few other things, throw in an orange (they can peel it themselves at school) and get it all in their appropriate backpacks.
You yell up to the kids that it's time to go, and for Kamy to bring down the brush and rubber band for her hair. The kids come flying down the stairs with excitement in their eyes, put on their coats and backpacks and accept the granola bar you offer to them as their breakfast.
With a kiss and a prayer, and a warning to RUN all the way to school, they are out the door five minutes from the time you woke them up. You flop down on the couch and enjoy the moment. You just survived the 5 minute whirlwind.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Not only that, but there are many recipes that I don't have memorized, and I have to constantly look through my piles of clippings and notes, in order to find the one I want. Luckily, some of my favorites are posted on my blog, and I'm always bringing up one of my recipes, and then scribbling the measurements on a torn piece of paper so I can bring it into the kitchen with me, and finish making whatever it is that I'm making.
I know it's an improbability that I will get through ALL of these books and magazines filled with wonderful, delightful, recipes, but I hope to get through enough to make a super cool recipe book for myself.
I am going to make a blurb recipe book. I'm so excited about it. I'm in the process of making a blog book from my entries through the end of 2008, but this recipe book will be different. It will be a cookbook. So, because blurb lets you make as many books as you want, I was wondering if anyone else would want to order a copy of my recipe book as well. Just putting feelers out there, to see what you thought. It's not even started yet, but it will feature all the recipes already posted on my blog, as well as a plethora of new recipes.
So, you interested?
Friday, March 6, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
What you are left with, is Telephone Pictionary. These were some of my favorite drawings, from my Girl's Night. You should play it with your family, friends, co-workers, and strangers. It's hilarious.
When the sheet of paper is done, everyone reads through the paper they end up with, and then pass around the paper so everyone can see the pictures. What is especially funny, is when personal stories are written down, such as "The car fell down on Grandpa Pete when he was lying underneath it." (remind me to tell you that story)
Anyway, if you play this game, you'll laugh to tears. I guarantee it. (click on the pictures to enlarge them)
Monday, March 2, 2009
Going to Maxwell's took a bit of planning, since we were so far away, but more often than not, my older brothers and sister (as well as my friends) and I would get permission to go to Maxwell's and spend our dollars on candy. We had but one rule, and we heard it again and again. "Stay off the highway!" You see, we could still get to the store by riding our bikes on the trail running alongside the highway. It was a slow going trail, with lots of hills, rocky parts, sandy traps, and prickly bushes, but if it meant getting a bag full of candy, we were happy. Sometimes, if I was lucky, we would saddle my friend Tisha's horse, and with her sitting in the front, and me bouncing behind her, we made quick work of the trail. That was always the best. But usually, it was our trusty bikes that got us where we needed to go.
It wasn't long before we figured out that if we rode our bikes on the tiny two lane highway, then (1) we would get there faster, (2) use less energy, and (3) mom and dad would never be the wiser. Oh, we were brilliant. So we began riding on the highway. We got away with it for a long time too, that is, until the day that I got caught.
I can't remember who was with me, but I'm guessing that it was probably my friend Tisha, because I don't remember anyone else getting in trouble but me. Anyway, we were riding on the highway, about half a mile away from Maxwell's, with our coins jingling away in our pockets. My friend was about 20 feet in front of me, riding her bike, and I was following. We were riding on the right hand side of the road, so we couldn't see what vehicles were on the road with us, until they passed us.
I was really really good at riding my bike. I was so good, that most of the time, I didn't have to use the handlebars. I could turn corners, slow down, speed up, and even read my book, as I road without gripping on to the handlebars. This time, I wasn't reading a book, but I definitely wasn't holding on to the handlebars. I was sitting straight up, with my arms raised above me, and riding like there was no tomorrow.
A big white van passed by me, and I heard a honk. I looked up, in time to see my dad, who was driving, stick his head out of the drivers side window and give me a look that I will never forget. I knew I was in big trouble. I saw my dad put on his blinker, and pull into the parking lot of Maxwell's. By this point, I knew it would do me no good to turn around now. I continued on to the store, to find my dad leaning against the van, waiting for me.
I was terrified. First off, I had broken the one and only major rule, which was "Absolutely no riding on the highway!". Well, there I was, riding on the highway. Secondly, I was riding my bike with no hands. Stupid Stupid Stupid. Third, I made my friend become a sinner along with me, and I was sure that I'd never ever get to see her again. Fourth, my mom was also in the van, and she had seen the whole thing. Oh boy.
I parked my bike in the bushes and walked slowly across the loose gravel to where my dad stood waiting. My head hung in shame and my lip quivered in anticipation of the scolding I was sure to receive. I looked up at my dad. He looked down at me. My life was over. Then he said, in a calm but authoritative voice
"Look Ma...No Hands. Look Ma...No Teeth."
That was all he said to me, then he shooed me inside to get my candy. It was a long ride home from Maxwell's that day, full of grief and horror and what I'd done, and how I'd been caught. The trails seemed extra burdensome to maneuver, but I made it home, and didn't have the urge to ride to Maxwell's for a long, long time. After that, I realized that my parents were not as upset about me riding on the highway, but that I was riding by bike with no hands, on the highway. Yes. I would have to agree with them.
In all the years that have passed since then, I remember with crystal clarity what my dad said to me that day. I'm glad he said what he did. After all, I quite like having teeth.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
I've posted some artwork holders before, but thought I would put some up again. We were invited to a birthday party for two little girls this last weekend, so I made these up for their birthday presents.
Simply hang them on the wall, and whenever your kids bring home some artwork, use the clips to hold up the paper, and you've got a great way to showcase those papers that otherwise might get crumpled and forgotten.
(click on the pictures to enlarge)
This was the first group waiting "off stage" for their entrance. They rocked it.
The next group used a caterpillar costume as one of their props. Kendra was really working the prop, it was so funny.
She even did the "worm" for a few minutes, and it was hilarious.
My group was the last to go, and we never got to practice with the IPOD, so when our turn came up, and we tried to find our song, we discovered that it wasn't on the playlist. I can't remember which song we ended up choosing, but it was totally ad-lib, and very fun. Two of the girls even pinned kamy's dress-up dresses to their shirt fronts.