Thursday, May 29, 2008
Sleep!
I finally got 7+ hours of sleep all together last night.
Garlic oil, decongestant, and tylenol are all my friends. I have yet to peek in that red ear again but will do so this morning some time.
-sigh of deep gratitude- It's like that first night of full sleep after a new baby. Pure bliss, followed by leaping out of bed to make sure she's still breathing.
This is one of the few times in my life where I'm having a Celine Dion moment: A New Day Has Come.
This was my pre-dawn sky this morning. It's far more gorgeous in real life. My poor, simple camera can't come close to catching the light play in the clouds.
I thought the b&w was interesting as well. It looks almost like there's a fire over the horizon.
Garlic oil, decongestant, and tylenol are all my friends. I have yet to peek in that red ear again but will do so this morning some time.
-sigh of deep gratitude- It's like that first night of full sleep after a new baby. Pure bliss, followed by leaping out of bed to make sure she's still breathing.
This is one of the few times in my life where I'm having a Celine Dion moment: A New Day Has Come.
This was my pre-dawn sky this morning. It's far more gorgeous in real life. My poor, simple camera can't come close to catching the light play in the clouds.
I thought the b&w was interesting as well. It looks almost like there's a fire over the horizon.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
My pride
Thinking back on "going it alone" I feel that it's time to talk about all the of the things Man does bring to my life that really enriches it.
1.) He's generous. I recall one friend who came to us in need of a (for us) significant amount of money. This person never asked for a handout or loan but Man immediately offered it as a gift. Since this person was a dear friend of mine, I knew that it was partially a gift to me as well. I just love that he is so willing to help anyone out in any way he can. He's been to more moves than I can count, he is faithful in getting his home teaching done, gives rides all the time, and even stayed up with Frieda at 3am this morning when I couldn't take any more sleep-deprived ear pummeling.
2.) He can make me belly laugh at some of the oddest things. While in labor with Frieda he actually made me smile during some of my hardest contractions, something the birthing coach who was present had never seen before. He will just randomly come up with a joke or quote or idea that takes me totally by surprise and it immediately lifts my spirits.
3.) He listens. He can talk on subjects which make him passionate (did you guys know he could be a passionate speaker?) but mostly what he gets called to do in this female dominated family is listen. Poor guy.
4.) When he decides to make something happen, he can make it happen. He finds outside-the-box solutions to problems I just want to give up on. When my energy and creativity are spent, he's always there with one step further to make all that effort worth it in the end.
5.) I love him. And for anyone who knows what love can be after years, hardship, and being faced with the option of leaving but sticking it out anyway, you know what that sort of love brings to life. He has positive qualities in spades, but even if he didn't the simple fact that I love him makes me a better person.
So I guess what I have to say is that sure, having him gone would make things a bit more simple, but I would truly and dearly miss him.
-sigh- Ok, I know that was a bit sappy but now I just can't wait to hug him when he gets home.
1.) He's generous. I recall one friend who came to us in need of a (for us) significant amount of money. This person never asked for a handout or loan but Man immediately offered it as a gift. Since this person was a dear friend of mine, I knew that it was partially a gift to me as well. I just love that he is so willing to help anyone out in any way he can. He's been to more moves than I can count, he is faithful in getting his home teaching done, gives rides all the time, and even stayed up with Frieda at 3am this morning when I couldn't take any more sleep-deprived ear pummeling.
2.) He can make me belly laugh at some of the oddest things. While in labor with Frieda he actually made me smile during some of my hardest contractions, something the birthing coach who was present had never seen before. He will just randomly come up with a joke or quote or idea that takes me totally by surprise and it immediately lifts my spirits.
3.) He listens. He can talk on subjects which make him passionate (did you guys know he could be a passionate speaker?) but mostly what he gets called to do in this female dominated family is listen. Poor guy.
4.) When he decides to make something happen, he can make it happen. He finds outside-the-box solutions to problems I just want to give up on. When my energy and creativity are spent, he's always there with one step further to make all that effort worth it in the end.
5.) I love him. And for anyone who knows what love can be after years, hardship, and being faced with the option of leaving but sticking it out anyway, you know what that sort of love brings to life. He has positive qualities in spades, but even if he didn't the simple fact that I love him makes me a better person.
So I guess what I have to say is that sure, having him gone would make things a bit more simple, but I would truly and dearly miss him.
-sigh- Ok, I know that was a bit sappy but now I just can't wait to hug him when he gets home.
Garlic oil
After a month of Frieda getting up every 2-3 hours, I finally took a peek in her ear to find it flaming red. With the dr 30 mins away and taking walkins only early in the morning I finally broke down and made some garlic oil for her ears.
Dude, girlfriend is pungent.
I'll try it again tonight before bed and report back tomorrow.
If nothing else, I could toss her with my green salad tonight or rub her head on my French bread.
Dude, girlfriend is pungent.
I'll try it again tonight before bed and report back tomorrow.
If nothing else, I could toss her with my green salad tonight or rub her head on my French bread.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Going it alone
I sometimes wonder if it would be easier just to run this place all by myself. I think it's tempting to feel that being able to make all my own decisions about every aspect of the family would result in greater ease and functionality. I'm sure he feels the same way. "If only she'd see it my way, things would go more smoothly."
What do you think? Does having two people making the decisions together result in a generally more positive outcome?
No, I'm not even remotely thinking of bailing on Man but there will come a time when we'll have to be separated by time and space as the Army dictates. When he's gone I've got all these great plans about routines and budgeting and discipline that, for some reason, I feel are much harder to implement when he's here.
So I ask myself, "Self, what's the real obstacle here?"
Ha! Self doesn't like answering such questions, because it leads to a terrible word in modern psychobabble: codependency.
I think that if we were able to discuss these things and arrive at mutually acceptable solutions which we both worked to enable that we'd find that synergistic (synergetic?), interdependent (is that enough Covey for you in one paragraph?) balance necessary for maximum growth and capability. But the simple reality is that we often get in each other's ways.
-I don't keep a daily master routine in the home; he wants me to.
-He hates micro-budgeting; that's the only way I feel comfortable purchasing big ticket items.
-I despise keeping junk food in the house; he feels deprived if we don't have any on hand.
-Exercise on his own time is easy for him (Army says so); I usually have to find child care to get mine in despite having a dance pad, eye toy, and Wii boxing (it's like schooling -- how on earth would I be able to get anything done if I have to do that at home as well? get me outa here)
-He feels damned by the man concerning the observation of such institutionalized holidays as, well, Mother's Day, or Christmas; I want to be remembered by my spouse on such occasions. (A few days after Mother's Day I finally had to tell him explicitly what I wanted him to buy for me. A week afterward, I had it in my hand. Next year I'll work on him more before the big day.)
-He can't understand why it's so hard for me to live my life to the fullest without any help from him with the kids; I have a hard time engaging in extra-domicile activities on a consistent basis without his help, like church or hypothetical college classes (park day is an exception, but I never remember that either).
No, these items of interest don't interfere with our relationship very often. I recall writing that he only had two annoying habits left, including not filling the water pitcher and telling me how to drive. And really, those are the only two that irk me on any given day. But occasionally some snag in life will cause either of us to silently purse our lips, arch an eyebrow, and think "if only you had listened, this wouldn't be a problem right now" and maybe we're right. Maybe, if we had done it the way the other person wanted there wouldn't have been a problem. But does it follow that not having the other person around would make all this any easier? If I'm right all the time and if it were all to be done my way would those snags be fewer and easier to deal with?
Four day weekends are really a somewhat uncomfortable thing for us. He leaves work. When he goes back, he picks up where he left off. No problem. If I take four days off there is no coming back to where I left off. What I came back to is a demilitarized zone where everyone is wearing loin cloths because there are no clean clothes, eating microwaved ramen out of grape leaves because there are no clean dishes or cooked food, gibbering in a dark and dirty corner of the house because their brains have turned into a thin slime because all they could think to do without me is watch television and hit each other with rocks, and there is a dead pilot from WWI hanging from the dining room light by his own parachute cords. Days off are so much more work but all Man wants to do is relax. So this weekend I tried to find a good balance between relaxing and not letting everything go all Lord of the Flies and I think I've found a few secrets to remember for next time:
1) No "big breakfasts" allowed. This includes anything that creates more than 1/4 of a dishwasher's worth of dirty dishes.
2) If a friend asks if one of my kids can spend the night, the answer is a resounding "Yes! Please! Take some of our food with you and keep her as long as you want!" (we did say yes, but there was initial doubt. No more doubt. It was wonderful.)
3) Don't try to "get everything caught up" in the days leading up to this weekend. It'll just make you want to relax (read: let your brain become a thin slime) the whole time rather than persisting with at least the basics of household maintenance.
4) Buy a frozen lasagna, use the frozen bbq beef, say yes to grilled cheese, and absolutely let your husband grill. Paper plates once or twice.
5) Don't bake cookies. It's fun. But it's an enormous mess. Instead, blow bubbles with your kids outside where the mess can be hosed down.
6) Swap date night with someone. Sure, it means watching someone else's kid(s) for a bit, but it's worth it. Remember that the weekend is a great opportunity for you to enjoy each other and not just an absence of the daily grind.
Ok, now I'm ready for another 4 day weekend. Bring it on.
Ok, so I lost my initial train of thought. Oh well. I'll try to come back to it later. Sleep. Yes, sleep.
What do you think? Does having two people making the decisions together result in a generally more positive outcome?
No, I'm not even remotely thinking of bailing on Man but there will come a time when we'll have to be separated by time and space as the Army dictates. When he's gone I've got all these great plans about routines and budgeting and discipline that, for some reason, I feel are much harder to implement when he's here.
So I ask myself, "Self, what's the real obstacle here?"
Ha! Self doesn't like answering such questions, because it leads to a terrible word in modern psychobabble: codependency.
I think that if we were able to discuss these things and arrive at mutually acceptable solutions which we both worked to enable that we'd find that synergistic (synergetic?), interdependent (is that enough Covey for you in one paragraph?) balance necessary for maximum growth and capability. But the simple reality is that we often get in each other's ways.
-I don't keep a daily master routine in the home; he wants me to.
-He hates micro-budgeting; that's the only way I feel comfortable purchasing big ticket items.
-I despise keeping junk food in the house; he feels deprived if we don't have any on hand.
-Exercise on his own time is easy for him (Army says so); I usually have to find child care to get mine in despite having a dance pad, eye toy, and Wii boxing (it's like schooling -- how on earth would I be able to get anything done if I have to do that at home as well? get me outa here)
-He feels damned by the man concerning the observation of such institutionalized holidays as, well, Mother's Day, or Christmas; I want to be remembered by my spouse on such occasions. (A few days after Mother's Day I finally had to tell him explicitly what I wanted him to buy for me. A week afterward, I had it in my hand. Next year I'll work on him more before the big day.)
-He can't understand why it's so hard for me to live my life to the fullest without any help from him with the kids; I have a hard time engaging in extra-domicile activities on a consistent basis without his help, like church or hypothetical college classes (park day is an exception, but I never remember that either).
No, these items of interest don't interfere with our relationship very often. I recall writing that he only had two annoying habits left, including not filling the water pitcher and telling me how to drive. And really, those are the only two that irk me on any given day. But occasionally some snag in life will cause either of us to silently purse our lips, arch an eyebrow, and think "if only you had listened, this wouldn't be a problem right now" and maybe we're right. Maybe, if we had done it the way the other person wanted there wouldn't have been a problem. But does it follow that not having the other person around would make all this any easier? If I'm right all the time and if it were all to be done my way would those snags be fewer and easier to deal with?
Four day weekends are really a somewhat uncomfortable thing for us. He leaves work. When he goes back, he picks up where he left off. No problem. If I take four days off there is no coming back to where I left off. What I came back to is a demilitarized zone where everyone is wearing loin cloths because there are no clean clothes, eating microwaved ramen out of grape leaves because there are no clean dishes or cooked food, gibbering in a dark and dirty corner of the house because their brains have turned into a thin slime because all they could think to do without me is watch television and hit each other with rocks, and there is a dead pilot from WWI hanging from the dining room light by his own parachute cords. Days off are so much more work but all Man wants to do is relax. So this weekend I tried to find a good balance between relaxing and not letting everything go all Lord of the Flies and I think I've found a few secrets to remember for next time:
1) No "big breakfasts" allowed. This includes anything that creates more than 1/4 of a dishwasher's worth of dirty dishes.
2) If a friend asks if one of my kids can spend the night, the answer is a resounding "Yes! Please! Take some of our food with you and keep her as long as you want!" (we did say yes, but there was initial doubt. No more doubt. It was wonderful.)
3) Don't try to "get everything caught up" in the days leading up to this weekend. It'll just make you want to relax (read: let your brain become a thin slime) the whole time rather than persisting with at least the basics of household maintenance.
4) Buy a frozen lasagna, use the frozen bbq beef, say yes to grilled cheese, and absolutely let your husband grill. Paper plates once or twice.
5) Don't bake cookies. It's fun. But it's an enormous mess. Instead, blow bubbles with your kids outside where the mess can be hosed down.
6) Swap date night with someone. Sure, it means watching someone else's kid(s) for a bit, but it's worth it. Remember that the weekend is a great opportunity for you to enjoy each other and not just an absence of the daily grind.
Ok, now I'm ready for another 4 day weekend. Bring it on.
Ok, so I lost my initial train of thought. Oh well. I'll try to come back to it later. Sleep. Yes, sleep.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
I hope you don't have dial-up -- pictures
I think this is about the largest batch of pics I have yet to upload to this blog. Brief explanations may accompany each image.
1. At Tag's birthday party, Pebbles was feeling a bit wan and attention deprived. Somehow she ended up with two people tending to her, tucking her into the small couch (which she had all to herself) with every last stuffed animal she owned and her treasured blanket. How did she manage that? Check out these eyes.
2. This is one that Friend C printed out for me. It's going on my wall.
3. Frieda. I love that smile.
4. These eyes are heart-breakers as well.
5. Another one for my wall. It was hot out and we played in the sprinklers.
6. This little guy just slays me.
7. He's so handsome, just like his dad.
8. She had just hurt something and was trying not to smile.
9. But she smiled anyway. She's still trying not to though.
10. This is from this evening. We stayed home sick (lingering croup that all the kids have now). We played with girl hair.
11. And this child just crackles with energy even while sick.
12. This one was so tired this evening. She barely dragged herself to bed. She spent the night at a friend's house last night.
13. All three in the computer chair. You know how crazy that can get. Frieda was being held by her dad and I wasn't sure that she wouldn't end up sliding right out of the chair with these three having so much fun.
1. At Tag's birthday party, Pebbles was feeling a bit wan and attention deprived. Somehow she ended up with two people tending to her, tucking her into the small couch (which she had all to herself) with every last stuffed animal she owned and her treasured blanket. How did she manage that? Check out these eyes.
2. This is one that Friend C printed out for me. It's going on my wall.
3. Frieda. I love that smile.
4. These eyes are heart-breakers as well.
5. Another one for my wall. It was hot out and we played in the sprinklers.
6. This little guy just slays me.
7. He's so handsome, just like his dad.
8. She had just hurt something and was trying not to smile. 
9. But she smiled anyway. She's still trying not to though.
10. This is from this evening. We stayed home sick (lingering croup that all the kids have now). We played with girl hair.
11. And this child just crackles with energy even while sick.
12. This one was so tired this evening. She barely dragged herself to bed. She spent the night at a friend's house last night.
13. All three in the computer chair. You know how crazy that can get. Frieda was being held by her dad and I wasn't sure that she wouldn't end up sliding right out of the chair with these three having so much fun.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The dangers of recycling
Yesterday I took the kids outside so we could watch the recycling truck come by. Kids rarely get tired of that. The nice guy who takes the recycling in said hi, stopped to shake hands with the kids, asked after the baby, then asked if I was interested in Shaklee. He gave me his card and told me about the pyramid scheme for a minute while I just sort of laughed inside at this guy with such a heavy accent giving this really great sales pitch using some decently complex sales tactics. He had been trained well.
So I told my friend C about the crazy recycling guy who was selling Shaklee. When he came to her house to pick up her recyclables he said hi, she said hi, then ran away.
Friends don't let friends be subject to sales pitches. You're welcome, C.
So I told my friend C about the crazy recycling guy who was selling Shaklee. When he came to her house to pick up her recyclables he said hi, she said hi, then ran away.
Friends don't let friends be subject to sales pitches. You're welcome, C.
"Jesus is coming!"
As soon as we stepped out the door the kids went crazy at the sight of the sun. Tag exclaimed "Jesus is coming to save us! Look at the red moon! Jesus is coming!"
This one was taken after the sun started breaking through the clouds a bit.
This one was taken after the sun started breaking through the clouds a bit.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Product Review: Celestial Seasonings Apple Cider
My friendly neighborhood commissary had Celestial Seasonings apple cider tins. Despite our 91° day the other day I just had to try some.
I picked up the caramel version and took a dubious sip. Surprisingly, it isn't too sweet and was absolutely delicious. It really does taste like apple -- specifically, tart apples baked with brown sugar. I might add a small dollop of fresh whipped cream to it like I would a baked tart apple. The only disappointing thing is that the tin is small. 10 servings of anything doesn't last long around here, and now I need to wait until our next grocery day to get more. :( Maybe Costco will start carrying the 64 ounce version of it some day. The tin is attractive and serviceable and now I'm in trouble because I actually like them a bit better than Altoid tins, despite the lack of a hinge. So now I need to think of some legitimate use for these things because I can't throw away a nice, attractive, serviceable tin.
I picked up the caramel version and took a dubious sip. Surprisingly, it isn't too sweet and was absolutely delicious. It really does taste like apple -- specifically, tart apples baked with brown sugar. I might add a small dollop of fresh whipped cream to it like I would a baked tart apple. The only disappointing thing is that the tin is small. 10 servings of anything doesn't last long around here, and now I need to wait until our next grocery day to get more. :( Maybe Costco will start carrying the 64 ounce version of it some day. The tin is attractive and serviceable and now I'm in trouble because I actually like them a bit better than Altoid tins, despite the lack of a hinge. So now I need to think of some legitimate use for these things because I can't throw away a nice, attractive, serviceable tin.
fog pics
Playing around with fog pics. The third one is of flowers in front of my house, with tons of added fill light.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Our day in pictures
Don't forget that you can click the pictures to make them larger.
VIP seating. Well, SIP seating I guess (somewhat important person). Tables with umbrellas that were right in front of the start/finish line. The kids loved having earplugs, chips and soda. Tag adores the cars but, unfortunately, we could only see a very small amount of the track. The start/finish line is only exciting for two events: start and finish. We ended up leaving early but had stayed for over three hours. I didn't realize that racing took so long or was so thunderously loud, especially while walking on a bridge overarching the track. Military appreciation day = free admission = cool experience.
VIP seating. Well, SIP seating I guess (somewhat important person). Tables with umbrellas that were right in front of the start/finish line. The kids loved having earplugs, chips and soda. Tag adores the cars but, unfortunately, we could only see a very small amount of the track. The start/finish line is only exciting for two events: start and finish. We ended up leaving early but had stayed for over three hours. I didn't realize that racing took so long or was so thunderously loud, especially while walking on a bridge overarching the track. Military appreciation day = free admission = cool experience.
Scraps of thought
ERs. Those are interesting places. Most of the times I've been there (and they have been many since we've moved here) it's been a boring place. We go when we have a medical condition that we can't wisely ride out on our own as opposed to the sort of desperate 120mph race to get help you see on tv or may have even experienced. We've gone for a broken bone, a severe migraine, stitches, an MRSA abscess, a bead in the nose, and a few other things that don't readily come to mind. Each of us except Frieda has had at least one reason to go to the ER. What would we do without insurance?
We went in again this past Friday night with what we thought was a serious asthma attack. Tag started wheezing, retracting, and even vomiting from the whole-body, wracking cough he had. We gave him his rescue puffer three times before heading on over for some help. We've learned to not panic but to always take it seriously. He and I got there only to have his cough change in sound and lessen in intensity. Dx: acute croup. Oddly, that was a relief. He hasn't had a severe attack in a very long time and I was so worried that we were finally starting to breathe easy, as it were, only to be put back on high alert. So the good news was that he didn't need prednisone.
Tag didn't fall asleep until about 1 am (we had gone in at 10:30) but just as he did a patient came in who got a code cath (heart attack). Suddenly the general tone changed. It was only so slightly louder but higher pitched, like controlled, professional urgency determined to do rather than fret. It was interesting to sit in a fatigued daze with all my senses blurred, noticing simple things that someone with a clear mind would recognize as inconsequential and discard without bothering the conscious bit of the brain with such useless info.
We got home around 1:30am but of course Frieda woke up just as I sat on the bed in preparation to sleep. Great. At least I wasn't barely asleep. So, get her settled by 2, only to wake again at 4, then 6, then 8:30. Ugh. When she woke at 4 and 6 she was bright eyed and happy to see me. My fuzzy dumb-info brain compared that to a teenage girlfriend who just had to call in the middle of the night to let me know she was thinking of me, except I have to feed my teenage girlfriend. Her little face and blue eyes just seemed to croon "I'm so happy to see you, were you thinking of me? I had a dream about you. Did you dream about me? What are you thinking right now?"
I'm so glad I'll never be a teenager again. You know, I won't have teenagers for very long (a measly 13 years) but ALL FOUR OF THEM will be teenagers at the same time for a whole year.
Oy. Pass the Motrin. And the Valium. And the chocolate.
It's interesting to deal with an asthma patient. The idea is to keep things balanced enough that they take as little medication as possible without ever getting an attack. Hah. It's just easier to over medicate. But we've been known to err on the side of under medicating. I hate the idea of giving him a steroid every day of his life but he's on the smallest, least frequent dose he can possibly be on without ever getting onto prednisone (for those who don't know what this is, count your lucky stars you've never had to deal with it. addictive, growth hindering, horribly behavior modifying). Good news today after an asthma eval: he's in the 90% for height (60% for weight, sounds about par for the course for the men on Man's side of the family) so he's not only on track, he's flourishing. -sigh of deep relief-
We went in again this past Friday night with what we thought was a serious asthma attack. Tag started wheezing, retracting, and even vomiting from the whole-body, wracking cough he had. We gave him his rescue puffer three times before heading on over for some help. We've learned to not panic but to always take it seriously. He and I got there only to have his cough change in sound and lessen in intensity. Dx: acute croup. Oddly, that was a relief. He hasn't had a severe attack in a very long time and I was so worried that we were finally starting to breathe easy, as it were, only to be put back on high alert. So the good news was that he didn't need prednisone.
Tag didn't fall asleep until about 1 am (we had gone in at 10:30) but just as he did a patient came in who got a code cath (heart attack). Suddenly the general tone changed. It was only so slightly louder but higher pitched, like controlled, professional urgency determined to do rather than fret. It was interesting to sit in a fatigued daze with all my senses blurred, noticing simple things that someone with a clear mind would recognize as inconsequential and discard without bothering the conscious bit of the brain with such useless info.
We got home around 1:30am but of course Frieda woke up just as I sat on the bed in preparation to sleep. Great. At least I wasn't barely asleep. So, get her settled by 2, only to wake again at 4, then 6, then 8:30. Ugh. When she woke at 4 and 6 she was bright eyed and happy to see me. My fuzzy dumb-info brain compared that to a teenage girlfriend who just had to call in the middle of the night to let me know she was thinking of me, except I have to feed my teenage girlfriend. Her little face and blue eyes just seemed to croon "I'm so happy to see you, were you thinking of me? I had a dream about you. Did you dream about me? What are you thinking right now?"
I'm so glad I'll never be a teenager again. You know, I won't have teenagers for very long (a measly 13 years) but ALL FOUR OF THEM will be teenagers at the same time for a whole year.
Oy. Pass the Motrin. And the Valium. And the chocolate.
It's interesting to deal with an asthma patient. The idea is to keep things balanced enough that they take as little medication as possible without ever getting an attack. Hah. It's just easier to over medicate. But we've been known to err on the side of under medicating. I hate the idea of giving him a steroid every day of his life but he's on the smallest, least frequent dose he can possibly be on without ever getting onto prednisone (for those who don't know what this is, count your lucky stars you've never had to deal with it. addictive, growth hindering, horribly behavior modifying). Good news today after an asthma eval: he's in the 90% for height (60% for weight, sounds about par for the course for the men on Man's side of the family) so he's not only on track, he's flourishing. -sigh of deep relief-
Friday, May 16, 2008
A trite phrase I dislike
"You're not alone."
Oh, please. I've heard that one so much in the past couple of days and it's starting to really wear on my nerves.
Military spouses, know that you are not alone in hardship.
Spouses of deployed service members, know that you are not alone in hardship.
Christian women, know that you are not alone in your faith.
Stay at home spouses, know that you are not alone in your trials.
Stay at home mother of four who does not yet have her education, know that you are not alone in your desire for your education despite what a difficult time of life you're in.
Bah. I don't care if I'm alone. I don't care if I'm the only person in the world who happens to be a stay at home mother with no college, or if I were to be the only military spouse on the planet. That doesn't matter. What I want to know is if there is help for someone in my particular situation, to accomplish that which I desire. If there is no help, then get out of my freaking way so I can get the job done.
I've spent this week either up to my neck in appointments, taking care of sick kids (still!!!) or trying and failing to clean my house. Yesterday I took a few hours off at a friend's house (Thank you, C, it was most needed) and we sat outside and the kids played in her neat new sprinkler, while we knitted and chatted and ate pita chips with roasted garlic hummus. Reality is hard to come home to.
Today I've spent making dr's appts (appts for two kids can't be made until late June), an appt to get the brakes fixed, trying to pull my house back into order, and wondering where we're going to find the money to get the brakes fixed. I'm feeling guilty that I have yet to see my grandmother but I'm wildly anxious about traveling in the mountains with brake pads in screechy mode, telling me they need help, when I also have two dr's appts to go to in the next week so I can't just stay home until our next paycheck. I'm glad we didn't make that road trip earlier this month especially with the brakes showing their hand now. Our resources are stretched to the absolute max, physically and emotionally.
Does anyone else ever feel like Tevye?
What would be so terrible if we had a small fortune?
Lord who made the lion and the lamb,
You decreed I should be what I am.
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan
If I were a wealthy man?
(Does funky, awesome, epileptic Tevye shake-your-body dance)
Ok, so I wouldn't want to be a wealthy man. Wealthy woman is ok.
And I get that we're in the wealthiest nation in the world, yadda yadda yadda, but what's the difference between being a slave to finding your next meal and being a slave to credit card companies just to make it to the end of the month? Both are mentally exhausting, especially when you're the sort of people who really are trying to make what they have work for them and give some back at the same time. Part of my decision to just do what I can and leave self improvement in the Lord's hands is that fact that at the end of the day I find myself often despairing over whatever sin I committed that has resulted in struggling so much financially, emotionally, physically. The choices have been made. My part now is to learn from them and find solutions, instead of wondering what sort of horrible and imperfect person I must be to deserve hardship.
I've also said that having a perfect schedule is impossible due to the fact that I would have to depend on perfect humans and such a thing doesn't exist. (not that there's anything wrong with that) The human element of my life is so frustrating I just want to spit rail road spikes. I love my dear friends (that means you, too, M), my husband, children, and human kind, but I find myself fantasizing about a small cave in the mountains where I could just wear an apron like Mother Eve, eat fish and honeycomb, and disappear from history. I think it would take me a very long time to feel lonely. I feel as if so many people are pulling me in so many directions, demanding that whatever I have to give be theirs out of duty or love. I keep telling people that I'm introverted and they keep not believing me. Learning to converse easily with the people around me is a survival skill and something I've come to enjoy, and now I'm having to learn how to keep the number of interactions I have to manageable levels. Not comfortable levels, just manageable ones. Comfortable would have me in that cave in five minutes.
But that isn't the way the world works. I can be forceful in saying "not right now, I'm sorry" but I can't make everyone go away, not if I want happiness in this life. The more I start to understand who I am and what my needs and wants are, the more I realize that Man matches me so well. He isn't a needy person but he's willing to connect with me on any level I ask of him and then he lets me have my distance if I need it. He is so generous in this regard and it's been perfectly what I need.
-sigh- Thanks for letting me vent. Now I need to go clean some more. And follow up on the message I left for a brake appt. And, and, and.
Oh, please. I've heard that one so much in the past couple of days and it's starting to really wear on my nerves.
Military spouses, know that you are not alone in hardship.
Spouses of deployed service members, know that you are not alone in hardship.
Christian women, know that you are not alone in your faith.
Stay at home spouses, know that you are not alone in your trials.
Stay at home mother of four who does not yet have her education, know that you are not alone in your desire for your education despite what a difficult time of life you're in.
Bah. I don't care if I'm alone. I don't care if I'm the only person in the world who happens to be a stay at home mother with no college, or if I were to be the only military spouse on the planet. That doesn't matter. What I want to know is if there is help for someone in my particular situation, to accomplish that which I desire. If there is no help, then get out of my freaking way so I can get the job done.
I've spent this week either up to my neck in appointments, taking care of sick kids (still!!!) or trying and failing to clean my house. Yesterday I took a few hours off at a friend's house (Thank you, C, it was most needed) and we sat outside and the kids played in her neat new sprinkler, while we knitted and chatted and ate pita chips with roasted garlic hummus. Reality is hard to come home to.
Today I've spent making dr's appts (appts for two kids can't be made until late June), an appt to get the brakes fixed, trying to pull my house back into order, and wondering where we're going to find the money to get the brakes fixed. I'm feeling guilty that I have yet to see my grandmother but I'm wildly anxious about traveling in the mountains with brake pads in screechy mode, telling me they need help, when I also have two dr's appts to go to in the next week so I can't just stay home until our next paycheck. I'm glad we didn't make that road trip earlier this month especially with the brakes showing their hand now. Our resources are stretched to the absolute max, physically and emotionally.
Does anyone else ever feel like Tevye?
What would be so terrible if we had a small fortune?
Lord who made the lion and the lamb,
You decreed I should be what I am.
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan
If I were a wealthy man?
(Does funky, awesome, epileptic Tevye shake-your-body dance)
Ok, so I wouldn't want to be a wealthy man. Wealthy woman is ok.
And I get that we're in the wealthiest nation in the world, yadda yadda yadda, but what's the difference between being a slave to finding your next meal and being a slave to credit card companies just to make it to the end of the month? Both are mentally exhausting, especially when you're the sort of people who really are trying to make what they have work for them and give some back at the same time. Part of my decision to just do what I can and leave self improvement in the Lord's hands is that fact that at the end of the day I find myself often despairing over whatever sin I committed that has resulted in struggling so much financially, emotionally, physically. The choices have been made. My part now is to learn from them and find solutions, instead of wondering what sort of horrible and imperfect person I must be to deserve hardship.
I've also said that having a perfect schedule is impossible due to the fact that I would have to depend on perfect humans and such a thing doesn't exist. (not that there's anything wrong with that) The human element of my life is so frustrating I just want to spit rail road spikes. I love my dear friends (that means you, too, M), my husband, children, and human kind, but I find myself fantasizing about a small cave in the mountains where I could just wear an apron like Mother Eve, eat fish and honeycomb, and disappear from history. I think it would take me a very long time to feel lonely. I feel as if so many people are pulling me in so many directions, demanding that whatever I have to give be theirs out of duty or love. I keep telling people that I'm introverted and they keep not believing me. Learning to converse easily with the people around me is a survival skill and something I've come to enjoy, and now I'm having to learn how to keep the number of interactions I have to manageable levels. Not comfortable levels, just manageable ones. Comfortable would have me in that cave in five minutes.
But that isn't the way the world works. I can be forceful in saying "not right now, I'm sorry" but I can't make everyone go away, not if I want happiness in this life. The more I start to understand who I am and what my needs and wants are, the more I realize that Man matches me so well. He isn't a needy person but he's willing to connect with me on any level I ask of him and then he lets me have my distance if I need it. He is so generous in this regard and it's been perfectly what I need.
-sigh- Thanks for letting me vent. Now I need to go clean some more. And follow up on the message I left for a brake appt. And, and, and.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Getting it done
As things get more and more hectic with Man, I'm learning how to quit waiting around and just do.
So, yesterday the kids and I played. Princess was home with a sore throat but we just had to get out of the house, so I window shopped for my mother's day present. The kids didn't want to window shop but that's what it ended up being. Then we all came home and had a rest. It put a sign on the door telling everyone to go away, unplugged my phone, and enjoyed a couple of hours (!!) of silence (!!!!!).
Today, after Princess came home from school, we took all the chairs and trash cans outside, put bathing suits on, and hosed everything and everyone down. Then everyone took a warm bath and ate popcorn on a sheet in the living room while watching Spiderman 3, which was very comicbooky and moralizing, but pretty neat nonetheless. The kids have been busy using every toy they own trying to sled down a hill in the back yard. It's been fun to watch their various attempts. If there weren't those heinous stickers in the grass, rolling would work just fine.
I'm just kind of over the "gotta be a Molly Mormon Martha" thing. Sure, pick up and be healthy but I'm no longer interested in perfection. I think that myth of perfection among mortals and the pursuit of constantly bettering myself takes away from what life is all about -- serving my neighbor, nurturing my kids, loving my spouse, and doing God's work. I've noticed that when I pray, read my scriptures, and focus on others that my self betterment just sort of takes care of itself. It also makes it a lot easier to forgive my own shortcomings if my focus wasn't on myself in the first place. I guess, in a way, it's easier to myself in God's hands this way and trust that he'll be doing the molding, rather than trying to do it all myself. No, I'm not abdicating responsibility for my own growth. I'm just not obsessing over it. ;)
"I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less"
An online college called today and the salesperson kept trying to tell me that he's never heard of anyone who said they were glad that they had waited to go to college and that my busy schedule won't be any better next year. lol Well, I currently have a nursing baby who still wakes once at night, one child who will be going to school in the fall, and we're anticipating a move before the year is out. He said that a shift in priorities would make it easy for me to do online college. I smiled and said yes, but for right now my priorities are right where they ought to be. That felt good.
So, yesterday the kids and I played. Princess was home with a sore throat but we just had to get out of the house, so I window shopped for my mother's day present. The kids didn't want to window shop but that's what it ended up being. Then we all came home and had a rest. It put a sign on the door telling everyone to go away, unplugged my phone, and enjoyed a couple of hours (!!) of silence (!!!!!).
Today, after Princess came home from school, we took all the chairs and trash cans outside, put bathing suits on, and hosed everything and everyone down. Then everyone took a warm bath and ate popcorn on a sheet in the living room while watching Spiderman 3, which was very comicbooky and moralizing, but pretty neat nonetheless. The kids have been busy using every toy they own trying to sled down a hill in the back yard. It's been fun to watch their various attempts. If there weren't those heinous stickers in the grass, rolling would work just fine.
I'm just kind of over the "gotta be a Molly Mormon Martha" thing. Sure, pick up and be healthy but I'm no longer interested in perfection. I think that myth of perfection among mortals and the pursuit of constantly bettering myself takes away from what life is all about -- serving my neighbor, nurturing my kids, loving my spouse, and doing God's work. I've noticed that when I pray, read my scriptures, and focus on others that my self betterment just sort of takes care of itself. It also makes it a lot easier to forgive my own shortcomings if my focus wasn't on myself in the first place. I guess, in a way, it's easier to myself in God's hands this way and trust that he'll be doing the molding, rather than trying to do it all myself. No, I'm not abdicating responsibility for my own growth. I'm just not obsessing over it. ;)
"I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less"
An online college called today and the salesperson kept trying to tell me that he's never heard of anyone who said they were glad that they had waited to go to college and that my busy schedule won't be any better next year. lol Well, I currently have a nursing baby who still wakes once at night, one child who will be going to school in the fall, and we're anticipating a move before the year is out. He said that a shift in priorities would make it easy for me to do online college. I smiled and said yes, but for right now my priorities are right where they ought to be. That felt good.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Dang it dolls, irony, and outside
First, something cool:
Dang-it Dolls
A grandma sends cloth dolls to soldiers designed specifically for them to be able to take their aggression out on an inanimate object. These dolls get the snot knocked out of them.
Second, something hilarious:
The US is criticizing another country for their lousy cyclone response. That is the pot calling the kettle black and I hope they realize the irony of what they're saying and blush furiously for it.
It's cold today. The kids have gone to the park twice. I have a small sand dune by the back door. -sigh- Stimulus package will likely buy me a shop vac.
Dang-it Dolls
A grandma sends cloth dolls to soldiers designed specifically for them to be able to take their aggression out on an inanimate object. These dolls get the snot knocked out of them.
Second, something hilarious:
The US is criticizing another country for their lousy cyclone response. That is the pot calling the kettle black and I hope they realize the irony of what they're saying and blush furiously for it.
It's cold today. The kids have gone to the park twice. I have a small sand dune by the back door. -sigh- Stimulus package will likely buy me a shop vac.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Two recipes in my permanent folder
There are two recipes I wanted to share with you all. I'm constantly on the lookout for good snacks that won't break the bank or diet and fell in love with Camie's Peanut Butter Granola Balls. I knew Camie back in the Midwest at a college town and was delighted when she shared her family cookbook on her blog. Here is one of her gems:
Peanut Butter Granola Balls
Great after-school snack that is healthy and easy. They taste like homemade granola bars.
¼ c. peanut butter
2 T. butter
1 c. crisp rice cereal
1 c. old fashioned oats (not quick cooking)
¼ c. dried fruit (raisins, cranberries, cherries etc.)
In a small saucepan over medium, heat honey, peanut butter and butter. Stir until smooth, 1-2 minutes. Remove from heat; stir in cereal, oats and dried fruit. Drop mixture by the tablespoon into mini paper cupcakes. Place on a rimmed baking sheet and refrigerate until set, about 15 minutes. To store, refrigerate in an airtight container up to 1 week. Makes 24.
I found that I could cut the butter in half without hurting the recipe, and used the antioxident dried fruit blend from Costco (holy cow, we shop there a lot) and it was perfect. We also tried making these with Cheerios, which made them a but more chewy than crunchy but the kids like it both ways. They sure don't late long around here. My melon baller makes quick work of measuring out nice, small lumps.
The other recipe is one that my mother in law clipped out of a news paper a few decades ago. When preparing freezer meals in anticipation of Frieda's birth we made up some barbecue beef. Man humbly insisted that we use his mother's recipe, and we did with excellent results. My sister in law emailed an image of the original clipping and here is my transcription:
Smoky Beef Brisket
4 lbs beef brisket
2 tablespoons garlic salt
2 tablespoons onion salt
2 tablespoons celery salt
2 1/2 ounces liquid smoke
2 1/2 ounces worcestershire sauce
1. Sprinkle both sides of brisket with garlic, onion, and celery salts. Place brisket in close fitting, glass dish. Pour liquid smoke over brisket. Tightly cover with foil. (odor of the liquid smoke will penetrate other items in the refrigerator if dish isn't tightly covered.) Marinate brisket in refrigerator 12 hours or longer. Turn meat occasionally during marinating period.
2. Line a shallow baking pan with sheets of heavy duty foil and make them long enough to completely cover the brisket. Place brisket on foil. Pour marinade and Worcestershire sauce over brisket. Seal brisket in foil, making double folds. Bake brisket in over preheated to 275° about 5 hours or until tender (shorten cooking time for smaller briskets.) Roll back foil. Cover top of brisket with a generous layer (about one-fourth inch thick) of barbecue sauce. Seal foil again and bake one hour longer.
3. Refrigerate brisket and pan drippings separately until fat rises to top of pan drippings. This can be done a day in advance of serving. Remove fat from drippings. Reheat drippings on top of stove. Reheat brisket wrapped in foil at 350° about 20 minutes or until warm. Serve slices of the meat with pan drippings spooned over them. The brisket also makes delicious sandwiches served at room temperature or cold on crusty French bread of onion rolls.
Folks, this is the best bbq beef I've ever had. We serve it up with French rolls, KC Masterpiece bbq sauce, steamed sweet corn, fruit salad, and tall glasses of whatever's cold. We froze family servings in quart sized ziploc bags as well as individual servings in snack sized ziplocs. A generous 1/4 cup frozen with the drippings and a squeeze of bbq sauce is just the perfect size for a hamburger bun and makes a great, easy lunch for Man.
Peanut Butter Granola Balls
Great after-school snack that is healthy and easy. They taste like homemade granola bars.
¼ c. peanut butter
2 T. butter
1 c. crisp rice cereal
1 c. old fashioned oats (not quick cooking)
¼ c. dried fruit (raisins, cranberries, cherries etc.)
In a small saucepan over medium, heat honey, peanut butter and butter. Stir until smooth, 1-2 minutes. Remove from heat; stir in cereal, oats and dried fruit. Drop mixture by the tablespoon into mini paper cupcakes. Place on a rimmed baking sheet and refrigerate until set, about 15 minutes. To store, refrigerate in an airtight container up to 1 week. Makes 24.
I found that I could cut the butter in half without hurting the recipe, and used the antioxident dried fruit blend from Costco (holy cow, we shop there a lot) and it was perfect. We also tried making these with Cheerios, which made them a but more chewy than crunchy but the kids like it both ways. They sure don't late long around here. My melon baller makes quick work of measuring out nice, small lumps.
The other recipe is one that my mother in law clipped out of a news paper a few decades ago. When preparing freezer meals in anticipation of Frieda's birth we made up some barbecue beef. Man humbly insisted that we use his mother's recipe, and we did with excellent results. My sister in law emailed an image of the original clipping and here is my transcription:
Smoky Beef Brisket
4 lbs beef brisket
2 tablespoons garlic salt
2 tablespoons onion salt
2 tablespoons celery salt
2 1/2 ounces liquid smoke
2 1/2 ounces worcestershire sauce
1. Sprinkle both sides of brisket with garlic, onion, and celery salts. Place brisket in close fitting, glass dish. Pour liquid smoke over brisket. Tightly cover with foil. (odor of the liquid smoke will penetrate other items in the refrigerator if dish isn't tightly covered.) Marinate brisket in refrigerator 12 hours or longer. Turn meat occasionally during marinating period.
2. Line a shallow baking pan with sheets of heavy duty foil and make them long enough to completely cover the brisket. Place brisket on foil. Pour marinade and Worcestershire sauce over brisket. Seal brisket in foil, making double folds. Bake brisket in over preheated to 275° about 5 hours or until tender (shorten cooking time for smaller briskets.) Roll back foil. Cover top of brisket with a generous layer (about one-fourth inch thick) of barbecue sauce. Seal foil again and bake one hour longer.
3. Refrigerate brisket and pan drippings separately until fat rises to top of pan drippings. This can be done a day in advance of serving. Remove fat from drippings. Reheat drippings on top of stove. Reheat brisket wrapped in foil at 350° about 20 minutes or until warm. Serve slices of the meat with pan drippings spooned over them. The brisket also makes delicious sandwiches served at room temperature or cold on crusty French bread of onion rolls.
Folks, this is the best bbq beef I've ever had. We serve it up with French rolls, KC Masterpiece bbq sauce, steamed sweet corn, fruit salad, and tall glasses of whatever's cold. We froze family servings in quart sized ziploc bags as well as individual servings in snack sized ziplocs. A generous 1/4 cup frozen with the drippings and a squeeze of bbq sauce is just the perfect size for a hamburger bun and makes a great, easy lunch for Man.
Birthday parties, and I'm so grateful
Nothing especially funny today. I'm sitting here in my bath robe, listening to Into the West sung by Annie Lennox, and wondering how old I was the last time staying up past 9:30 wasn't a punishment.
Today we had Tag's birthday party. We postponed it a few weeks and then found out that Man wasn't going to be here this weekend but I said "well, crap" (because, remember, I'm the crude spouse) "we've put it off this long, let's just do it and get it over with."
Why was I bound and determined? I'm not sure. Maybe because I've never had a party for my kids before. There has always been something getting in the way of having a party, like a pregnancy or new baby, or moving. I wanted to do something to celebrate Tag, something that the other kids could enjoy, something special just to throw a party and say "hey, kid, we're thinking of you and you really are special to us." I've been in that sort of mood lately.
Yesterday I spent outside for one thing or another and then frantically tried to get the house ready for today. Then I slept in as long as I could this morning to make up for a week of Man being largely gone, Frieda going through a growth spurt (necessitating round the clock nursing) and yet another round of illness in two kids. After that I looked at my list of things to do (make cake, make potato salad, cut up fruit, stuff pinata, clean the house some more) and said "forget this. We've got that economic stimulus thing coming soon. Today, it's all Costco." So we go one of those mile-high chocolate cakes from Costco with all the chocolate shavings on the sides (yes, they are totally as tasty as they look), pre-made potato salad (5 pounds, .5 pounds of which actually got eaten during the party, leaving us with enough to last the rest of the month) and landfill fodder in the form of plates, silverware, and cups I gleefully chucked in the garbage. Burgers, dogs, zucchini and onions were all grilled, with sides of nachos, honey dew, apples, and carrots. I always worry if we'll have enough food and then we end up with far too many leftovers.
Anyway, my friends were huge life savers. Brian was my Grill Master (hey, man, you were the GM!), his wife, R, was my baby holder, as were Friends C, A, and B. Friend C was also clean up crew, kid herder, Pebbles comfort item, and official photographer. Friend J provided a lighter for the cake when I couldn't find my matches and didn't want to bother with opening an MRE. Amidst the chaos, running around, bike riding, bubble blowing, cake eating, yelling, laughing, and kidness there was Tag, soaking it all up like a little beaming sponge. Princess had a great time, Pebbles had a great time, Frieda had no idea what the heck was going on but sort of soaked it all up, and afterward it was all we could do to sit around and watch movies together. Princess and Tag managed to blow bubbles for another couple of hours.
Once again, my friends have saved the day. With Man gone so much more I'm having to get used to the idea of either doing it all myself or asking for help. Thanks, everyone, for making it possible and helping a little guy feel special. He got that look on his face that all of us do when we get the birthday song sung to us -- a little shy, a little bewildered, but smiling.
Friend C has all the pinata, gift, and cake pictures on her camera. I'll have to see if she can email them. In the mean time, enjoy an image of what Tag decided to do with the bottles of bubbles:
He called it his rainbow. It was all I could do to smile and ask him calmly to go take them outside. Thank heavens they were all still sealed.
Tonight as we read scriptures, Frieda was tucked into bed, Pebbles was snuggled in my lap, Princess was leaning up against me, and Tag was laying on the floor driving his new Transformer car. It's a good sort of tired.
And now I need to think of a plausible way to give away the potato salad to neighbors... "hey, I noticed you just moved in. I know it's customary to bring over cookies or something like that but enjoy this nice dish of Costco potato salad from this past weekend. Sorry we didn't bother to invite you to the barbecue. What, you didn't just move in? Have the salad anyway. No, I insist. I don't care, just put it in the garbage if you have to but keep the stinking salad. No, no, there's nothing wrong with it for the love of mercy just keep the salad. And stay off my lawn! Welcome to the neighborhood."
-sigh- Maybe the raccoons will eat it.
Today we had Tag's birthday party. We postponed it a few weeks and then found out that Man wasn't going to be here this weekend but I said "well, crap" (because, remember, I'm the crude spouse) "we've put it off this long, let's just do it and get it over with."
Why was I bound and determined? I'm not sure. Maybe because I've never had a party for my kids before. There has always been something getting in the way of having a party, like a pregnancy or new baby, or moving. I wanted to do something to celebrate Tag, something that the other kids could enjoy, something special just to throw a party and say "hey, kid, we're thinking of you and you really are special to us." I've been in that sort of mood lately.
Yesterday I spent outside for one thing or another and then frantically tried to get the house ready for today. Then I slept in as long as I could this morning to make up for a week of Man being largely gone, Frieda going through a growth spurt (necessitating round the clock nursing) and yet another round of illness in two kids. After that I looked at my list of things to do (make cake, make potato salad, cut up fruit, stuff pinata, clean the house some more) and said "forget this. We've got that economic stimulus thing coming soon. Today, it's all Costco." So we go one of those mile-high chocolate cakes from Costco with all the chocolate shavings on the sides (yes, they are totally as tasty as they look), pre-made potato salad (5 pounds, .5 pounds of which actually got eaten during the party, leaving us with enough to last the rest of the month) and landfill fodder in the form of plates, silverware, and cups I gleefully chucked in the garbage. Burgers, dogs, zucchini and onions were all grilled, with sides of nachos, honey dew, apples, and carrots. I always worry if we'll have enough food and then we end up with far too many leftovers.
Anyway, my friends were huge life savers. Brian was my Grill Master (hey, man, you were the GM!), his wife, R, was my baby holder, as were Friends C, A, and B. Friend C was also clean up crew, kid herder, Pebbles comfort item, and official photographer. Friend J provided a lighter for the cake when I couldn't find my matches and didn't want to bother with opening an MRE. Amidst the chaos, running around, bike riding, bubble blowing, cake eating, yelling, laughing, and kidness there was Tag, soaking it all up like a little beaming sponge. Princess had a great time, Pebbles had a great time, Frieda had no idea what the heck was going on but sort of soaked it all up, and afterward it was all we could do to sit around and watch movies together. Princess and Tag managed to blow bubbles for another couple of hours.
Once again, my friends have saved the day. With Man gone so much more I'm having to get used to the idea of either doing it all myself or asking for help. Thanks, everyone, for making it possible and helping a little guy feel special. He got that look on his face that all of us do when we get the birthday song sung to us -- a little shy, a little bewildered, but smiling.
Friend C has all the pinata, gift, and cake pictures on her camera. I'll have to see if she can email them. In the mean time, enjoy an image of what Tag decided to do with the bottles of bubbles:
He called it his rainbow. It was all I could do to smile and ask him calmly to go take them outside. Thank heavens they were all still sealed.Tonight as we read scriptures, Frieda was tucked into bed, Pebbles was snuggled in my lap, Princess was leaning up against me, and Tag was laying on the floor driving his new Transformer car. It's a good sort of tired.
And now I need to think of a plausible way to give away the potato salad to neighbors... "hey, I noticed you just moved in. I know it's customary to bring over cookies or something like that but enjoy this nice dish of Costco potato salad from this past weekend. Sorry we didn't bother to invite you to the barbecue. What, you didn't just move in? Have the salad anyway. No, I insist. I don't care, just put it in the garbage if you have to but keep the stinking salad. No, no, there's nothing wrong with it for the love of mercy just keep the salad. And stay off my lawn! Welcome to the neighborhood."
-sigh- Maybe the raccoons will eat it.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
My latest yummy snack
Ever on the hunt for a snack healthier than the normal S.A.D. (Standard American Diet) fare I'm often tempted by, I've recently become enamored of Yoplait vanilla yogurt, sold in 32 ounce containers. Bulk is cheaper, it's a flavor all of us (except Man) can live with, and almost every add-in I can think of works well with it. We've tried it with chopped almonds, chopped cashews, shredded coconut (too much extra sugar, I think), and today we discovered powdered graham crackers. My submersible blender came with a little chopper container that can do everything from grinding meat to making diamond dust (yes, an exaggeration) so instead of graham cracker crumbs we took it to the nth degree and obliterated those poor crackers almost down to their constituent elements. But oh, the texture. What an amazing thing. A modest bowl of yogurt with one or two add-ins is so much more satisfying to me now than a heaping bowl of ice cream, especially knowing that I won't have a sugar crash or nausea an hour later.
I wonder how well it'd go with salty stuff. Like soynuts. Mmmm, yum.
What your latest health(y/ier) snack?
I wonder how well it'd go with salty stuff. Like soynuts. Mmmm, yum.
What your latest health(y/ier) snack?
When my mouth gets bigger than my brain
Princess' class just had some baby chicks hatch a couple of days ago. The parents were all strong armed by their wee ones into petting the cute lil' things. But one parent asked if it was a boy or a girl. Another parent asked:
P: How are you supposed to be able to tell that?
A: Magnifying glass?
P: -nervous laugh- I suppose so.
A: Maybe you could wait to see if it giggles when someone farts.
P: -cross eyed look- Uh-huh.
-sigh- Which is why I don't always make great friends with the other parents at school. Oh, well.
P: How are you supposed to be able to tell that?
A: Magnifying glass?
P: -nervous laugh- I suppose so.
A: Maybe you could wait to see if it giggles when someone farts.
P: -cross eyed look- Uh-huh.
-sigh- Which is why I don't always make great friends with the other parents at school. Oh, well.
"Yes, I've heard what you have to say. Now, you listen to me, and let's see if we can't come to a more mutually beneficial arrangement. So sit down and shut up."
"Of course I require my grapes to be peeled. What on earth are you thinking?"
"Whoa! I soooo did not want to see that!"
I entertain all caption suggestions.
We tried sitting her up yesterday and she's doing quite well. Amazing how these milestones go from life altering (with the first baby) to "oh, cool. check that out."
"Of course I require my grapes to be peeled. What on earth are you thinking?"
"Whoa! I soooo did not want to see that!"
I entertain all caption suggestions.We tried sitting her up yesterday and she's doing quite well. Amazing how these milestones go from life altering (with the first baby) to "oh, cool. check that out."
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
And They Lived Happily Ever After (WARNING: movie spoilers)
Movies spoiled in this post (some possibly, others definitely): Independence Day, A World Without Thieves, The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, Dragonheart, The Island of Dr. Moreau, Sense and Sensibility, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, House of Flying Daggers.
Last night the internet connection was slow enough that watching something instant on Netflix (awesome feature, no I don't work for them) wasn't an option so we finally sat down and watched A World Without Thieves, a Chinese movie both funny and profound. It was very artfully done and, despite the male protagonist being a bad guy in House of Flying Daggers, was very enjoyable.
(Does anyone else have that problem, with knowing how evil an actor is in a different movie but then being forced to see (usually him) in a more positive light? Alan Rickman was one of those for me. I mean, how could I want Marianne in Sense and Sensibility to fall in love with the Evil Sheriff of Nottingham? Or how could I want the good guy in the new The Island of Dr. Moreau to live or get the girl when, in another life, he was the unspeakably ugly and corrupt king in Dragonheart? I guess it's a good thing I've never seen Silence of the Lambs since I adore Anthony Hopkins.)
Anyway, the movie was enjoyable until we got to the end. I have a general policy of not spoiling movies for people but must do so once today for purposes of point illustration. A very brief summary is as follows: two lovers are thieves when the woman (Wang Li) has a change of heart and decides to protect an innocent man (Dumbo) from being robbed by a thief master (Uncle Li, oddly enough). The man (Wang Bo) wants her to just let Dumbo get stolen from so he would learn a lesson about life and be happier for it. We then find out that she's actually pregnant with Wang Bo's child and is protecting Dumbo to redeem herself from a life of sin so the child would be born with good karma and a chance to be a better person than they were. In the end, Wang Bo is moved by the thought of a better life for his child and gives his life to protect Dumbo. The movie closes on Wang Li praying at a temple, having abandoned her child to the country folk who raised Dumbo.
Depressing, yes? I thought so, too.
Man told me that this particular ending is actually considered to be a positive one. My American sensibilities rebelled against that. What's happy about a woman losing her dearest love and her baby? How can that be happily ever after?
But then he explained that Wang Bo's sacrifice completely made up for his life of stealing, thus giving the baby good karma. Wang Li then ensures that her son won't grow up like her by giving him to the people who were able to instill deep love, innocence, and loyalty in the person they gave so much to protect. Therefore, the cycle of thievery was broken, everyone has atoned, and the baby will be a good person. Happy ending.
You know, if Independence Day had been done by a Chinese director, both Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith would have died on their mission to kill the aliens -- one for his own sins, the other as an innocent sacrifice for all of human kind.
Our happy endings like to be so clean and comforting. They like to be fair, so we know that evil doesn't pay and good will be rewarded. They like to have new life after hardship and hope that this time around we won't be so evil. Unfortunately, we also see that a diminishment of future evil means that somehow there will be less magic and wonder to enjoy as well, but isn't that a small price to pay in order to stay in our comfort zone? Would you rather have elvish friends and a ring of invisibility but end up on permanent disability, or stay healthy and wealthy in your hobbit hole your whole life? In Western movies, we see a lot of the elvish friends at first (magic, wonder) and then Big Bad Nasty (a result of that magic gone wrong) but soon Justice and Peace triumph over all (in the process destroying that which made both good and bad so mighty).
Chinese movies, on the other hand, want to keep the magic, but in order to keep it you have to pay. Western movies exact a price (hardship, humiliation) but Chinese movies can break your will to live. All the beautiful, complex people die; all the simple, plain people live on. If it doesn't happen that way, they make a sequel. I have yet to see a movie wherein Jet Li lives all the way to the credits but his sacrifice is never in vain.
-sigh- So, if I'm in a "devour a whole bag of Oreo's" kind of mood, I try not to watch Chinese movies. Unless it's something more Westernized like a good Jackie Chan or Kung Fu Hustle (which I give 5*'s).
On the other hand, if I really need to be depressed I could watch some German or French movies. Or maybe an Italian one like Life is Beautiful. -sob-
Last night the internet connection was slow enough that watching something instant on Netflix (awesome feature, no I don't work for them) wasn't an option so we finally sat down and watched A World Without Thieves, a Chinese movie both funny and profound. It was very artfully done and, despite the male protagonist being a bad guy in House of Flying Daggers, was very enjoyable.
(Does anyone else have that problem, with knowing how evil an actor is in a different movie but then being forced to see (usually him) in a more positive light? Alan Rickman was one of those for me. I mean, how could I want Marianne in Sense and Sensibility to fall in love with the Evil Sheriff of Nottingham? Or how could I want the good guy in the new The Island of Dr. Moreau to live or get the girl when, in another life, he was the unspeakably ugly and corrupt king in Dragonheart? I guess it's a good thing I've never seen Silence of the Lambs since I adore Anthony Hopkins.)
Anyway, the movie was enjoyable until we got to the end. I have a general policy of not spoiling movies for people but must do so once today for purposes of point illustration. A very brief summary is as follows: two lovers are thieves when the woman (Wang Li) has a change of heart and decides to protect an innocent man (Dumbo) from being robbed by a thief master (Uncle Li, oddly enough). The man (Wang Bo) wants her to just let Dumbo get stolen from so he would learn a lesson about life and be happier for it. We then find out that she's actually pregnant with Wang Bo's child and is protecting Dumbo to redeem herself from a life of sin so the child would be born with good karma and a chance to be a better person than they were. In the end, Wang Bo is moved by the thought of a better life for his child and gives his life to protect Dumbo. The movie closes on Wang Li praying at a temple, having abandoned her child to the country folk who raised Dumbo.
Depressing, yes? I thought so, too.
Man told me that this particular ending is actually considered to be a positive one. My American sensibilities rebelled against that. What's happy about a woman losing her dearest love and her baby? How can that be happily ever after?
But then he explained that Wang Bo's sacrifice completely made up for his life of stealing, thus giving the baby good karma. Wang Li then ensures that her son won't grow up like her by giving him to the people who were able to instill deep love, innocence, and loyalty in the person they gave so much to protect. Therefore, the cycle of thievery was broken, everyone has atoned, and the baby will be a good person. Happy ending.
You know, if Independence Day had been done by a Chinese director, both Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith would have died on their mission to kill the aliens -- one for his own sins, the other as an innocent sacrifice for all of human kind.
Our happy endings like to be so clean and comforting. They like to be fair, so we know that evil doesn't pay and good will be rewarded. They like to have new life after hardship and hope that this time around we won't be so evil. Unfortunately, we also see that a diminishment of future evil means that somehow there will be less magic and wonder to enjoy as well, but isn't that a small price to pay in order to stay in our comfort zone? Would you rather have elvish friends and a ring of invisibility but end up on permanent disability, or stay healthy and wealthy in your hobbit hole your whole life? In Western movies, we see a lot of the elvish friends at first (magic, wonder) and then Big Bad Nasty (a result of that magic gone wrong) but soon Justice and Peace triumph over all (in the process destroying that which made both good and bad so mighty).
Chinese movies, on the other hand, want to keep the magic, but in order to keep it you have to pay. Western movies exact a price (hardship, humiliation) but Chinese movies can break your will to live. All the beautiful, complex people die; all the simple, plain people live on. If it doesn't happen that way, they make a sequel. I have yet to see a movie wherein Jet Li lives all the way to the credits but his sacrifice is never in vain.
-sigh- So, if I'm in a "devour a whole bag of Oreo's" kind of mood, I try not to watch Chinese movies. Unless it's something more Westernized like a good Jackie Chan or Kung Fu Hustle (which I give 5*'s).
On the other hand, if I really need to be depressed I could watch some German or French movies. Or maybe an Italian one like Life is Beautiful. -sob-
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
My young gourmand
One day, at the height of my illness over the last couple of weeks, Tag offered to start some water for ramen noodles for me. I've supervised him turning on the fire many times and he has shown me remarkable responsibility in this area, so I said ok and turned an attentive ear to the kitchen as I sat in the living room. Hearing the stove light after just a couple of clicks, I went back to what I was doing and paid little mind to the water, knowing how dang vigilant he is as far as letting me know when the water comes to a boil. Next thing I knew, he was telling me that my food was ready. What?? I went into the kitchen to find this:
He had prepared the soup completely on his own. The taste and texture were precisely as I would prepare it and he made surprisingly little mess. I still felt awful but how could I turn down a serving of his very first completely independent culinary creation?
This morning I found the oats and sugar out on the counter and thought that Man had miraculously made his own breakfast (I don't ever see him in the morning on early formation days -- I don't like waking at 4am) but then found a bowl of perfectly cooked oatmeal on the table. Tag had made it while I fed Frieda in the back bedroom.
I never knew that he actually paid that much attention when I was cooking. Maybe by the time he's 10 I can give him half the cooking and just do the dishes. Wouldn't that be nice! He has been asking to make his own scrambled eggs... maybe it's time to just let him.
He had prepared the soup completely on his own. The taste and texture were precisely as I would prepare it and he made surprisingly little mess. I still felt awful but how could I turn down a serving of his very first completely independent culinary creation?
This morning I found the oats and sugar out on the counter and thought that Man had miraculously made his own breakfast (I don't ever see him in the morning on early formation days -- I don't like waking at 4am) but then found a bowl of perfectly cooked oatmeal on the table. Tag had made it while I fed Frieda in the back bedroom.
I never knew that he actually paid that much attention when I was cooking. Maybe by the time he's 10 I can give him half the cooking and just do the dishes. Wouldn't that be nice! He has been asking to make his own scrambled eggs... maybe it's time to just let him.
Beware - over thought ahead
I had my friend R over yesterday. Thank you, R, you made my day brighter and funnier!
Anyway, through the course of conversation she said that I must always have something going on in my head. I laughed and thought about this blog and wondered, once again, if I really should post all my musings. It's not for the faint of heart nor the humor deprived.
So, R, here is a sample of what I have going on in my head at any given moment. Today's theme is balance.
This morning we had cold cereal for breakfast (which I'll regret in about an hour) but I encountered a classic cold cereal blunder: after my cereal had been consumed, there was about 1/4 cup of milk in the bottom of the bowl. What do you do with that last milk? I suspect that most people drink it. Others may use their spoons to polish it off. Still others add a small portion of cereal to their milk and eat them together. As I thought about how best to take care of my milk I wondered if adding a bit of cereal still counted as a first helping, since that's still the first helping of milk. But then what if you add too much cereal accidentally and then have to add milk, then more cereal... and that way you eat a whole box of cereal on your first helping? Yeah, that'd be weird.
Driving back from dropping Princess off at school I noticed that someone slowed significantly for a dumb cat who couldn't decide how best to mosey across the street. The resulting break in speed meant that she had to apply the gas perhaps a little more than she would have otherwise to cover the same amount of distance. So I wondered, every time someone breaks and then uses extra gas (thus creating extra pollution) to avoid a squirrel, does a parakeet die? (you know, mining parakeets that die when the air gets all nasty) Is saving that squirrel worth killing all those parakeets?
And finally, as I was making my bed, I realized that the longer it's been since I changed my sheets the greater the effort it takes to make the bed nicely since the covers become loose from their under-the-mattress tucking. So, ignoring the fact that they get dirty, at what point is it more effort to make the bed than to just change the sheets and retuck everything? I'm thinking of keeping a little spreadsheet to chart the relative difficulty of either task over any given period of time to determine maximum bed-making efficiency.
So, R, keep in mind that the next time you ask me what I'm thinking... it might be safer not to. You can go ahead and smack your forehead now. ;)
For those of you who don't know me, I wasn't seriously wondering about any of this. This is how I keep myself entertained. Aren't you entertained?
Anyway, through the course of conversation she said that I must always have something going on in my head. I laughed and thought about this blog and wondered, once again, if I really should post all my musings. It's not for the faint of heart nor the humor deprived.
So, R, here is a sample of what I have going on in my head at any given moment. Today's theme is balance.
This morning we had cold cereal for breakfast (which I'll regret in about an hour) but I encountered a classic cold cereal blunder: after my cereal had been consumed, there was about 1/4 cup of milk in the bottom of the bowl. What do you do with that last milk? I suspect that most people drink it. Others may use their spoons to polish it off. Still others add a small portion of cereal to their milk and eat them together. As I thought about how best to take care of my milk I wondered if adding a bit of cereal still counted as a first helping, since that's still the first helping of milk. But then what if you add too much cereal accidentally and then have to add milk, then more cereal... and that way you eat a whole box of cereal on your first helping? Yeah, that'd be weird.
Driving back from dropping Princess off at school I noticed that someone slowed significantly for a dumb cat who couldn't decide how best to mosey across the street. The resulting break in speed meant that she had to apply the gas perhaps a little more than she would have otherwise to cover the same amount of distance. So I wondered, every time someone breaks and then uses extra gas (thus creating extra pollution) to avoid a squirrel, does a parakeet die? (you know, mining parakeets that die when the air gets all nasty) Is saving that squirrel worth killing all those parakeets?
And finally, as I was making my bed, I realized that the longer it's been since I changed my sheets the greater the effort it takes to make the bed nicely since the covers become loose from their under-the-mattress tucking. So, ignoring the fact that they get dirty, at what point is it more effort to make the bed than to just change the sheets and retuck everything? I'm thinking of keeping a little spreadsheet to chart the relative difficulty of either task over any given period of time to determine maximum bed-making efficiency.
So, R, keep in mind that the next time you ask me what I'm thinking... it might be safer not to. You can go ahead and smack your forehead now. ;)
For those of you who don't know me, I wasn't seriously wondering about any of this. This is how I keep myself entertained. Aren't you entertained?
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Hoisin sauce and a very Tagish birthday
This is my favorite hoisin sauce:
I found it at an Asian grocery that was one street over from my home in the Midwest. I've tried other hoisin sauces only to be very disappointed and my hoisin chicken recipe just doesn't like to be made with an inferior sauce.
Here's the English side, in case you don't read kanji (which I most certainly do not):
So, if you make this hoisin chicken recipe and you don't use Koon Chun hoisin sauce, don't tell me how bad my recipe is. It's your fault. :)
Tag decorating his birthday cake:
There were so many sprinkles that we took those cupcakes over there and just dipped them into the top of the cake. He was so dang pleased with that cake. And I have another child who has turned 5... how old do I feel?
Tag is a really amazing young person. He had such a rough go of it for the first 2.5 years of his life and in some ways we're still ironing out the kinks. He hasn't had an asthma attack from either dogs or cats in almost 2 years, he hasn't had a single trace of eczema in over 3 years, and he is such a joy to our whole family. Frieda loves smiling at his face and voice. Pebbles follows him around the house, parroting and monkeying all day long. He and Princess are such great friends and play for hours. I'm so pleased with the person he is. He has always been affectionate but really goes the extra mile to play with and talk to everyone in a group. He seeks people out and talks to them in a way that, to me, looks courageous. He's so creative and can always come up with games to play, songs to sing, voices and impressions, and remembers people and important things about them. He's a pro on both his bike and scooter and has found ways to manipulate toys that continually astound me. His zeal for life and fun and loving people knows no bounds and I hope his determination to make so much joy for so many people lasts his whole life time.
Happy birthday, Tag. :)
And here's a bonus Tagger:
Princess: I spy with my little eye... something brown.
Tag: A melted tree?
Princess: [struck momentarily speechless] Uh.... what?
Tag: What if aliens came and shot a tree and melted it? That'd be brown.
Princess: You're weird.
Tag: Nooooooo, I'm a cute boy. If aliens set our house on fire I'd blow the fire out. But I'd like to have a melted tree.
Folks, I just don't even know where he comes up with this stuff.
I found it at an Asian grocery that was one street over from my home in the Midwest. I've tried other hoisin sauces only to be very disappointed and my hoisin chicken recipe just doesn't like to be made with an inferior sauce.
Here's the English side, in case you don't read kanji (which I most certainly do not):
So, if you make this hoisin chicken recipe and you don't use Koon Chun hoisin sauce, don't tell me how bad my recipe is. It's your fault. :)Hoisin Chicken Recipe
The most important part of this recipe is a GOOD QUALITY hoisin sauce. I use Koon Chun which I've been able to find in both the Midwest and West coast at Japanese or Asian markets. by Annie H
30 min | 5 min prep | SERVES 8
| 2 | tablespoons olive oil | |
| 2 | lbs boneless skinless chicken thighs, cut into one inch pieces | |
| For sauce | ||
| 5 | fluid ounces hoisin sauce | |
| 3/4 | cup low sodium soy sauce | |
| 1 | tablespoon sesame oil | |
| 1 | teaspoon dried ginger | |
| 2 | tablespoons worcestershire sauce (use the good stuff) | |
| 1/4 | cup sugar | |
| 1/2 | cup water | |
| Serve with | ||
| 6 | cups steamed rice | |
- Heat olive oil in a large skillet on medium heat.
- Add chicken and cook half way.
- Mix sauce ingredients together and add all at once. Cook at a high boil until sauce is thickened. This can take upward of 15 minutes depending on how high your heat is. You can cook this until it’s sticky but that makes it super rich. I leave mine runny. High heat is important for caramelizing the sugar.
- Serve over basmati rice, with a side of sauteed stir fry veggies.Top of Form
Tag decorating his birthday cake:
There were so many sprinkles that we took those cupcakes over there and just dipped them into the top of the cake. He was so dang pleased with that cake. And I have another child who has turned 5... how old do I feel?
Tag is a really amazing young person. He had such a rough go of it for the first 2.5 years of his life and in some ways we're still ironing out the kinks. He hasn't had an asthma attack from either dogs or cats in almost 2 years, he hasn't had a single trace of eczema in over 3 years, and he is such a joy to our whole family. Frieda loves smiling at his face and voice. Pebbles follows him around the house, parroting and monkeying all day long. He and Princess are such great friends and play for hours. I'm so pleased with the person he is. He has always been affectionate but really goes the extra mile to play with and talk to everyone in a group. He seeks people out and talks to them in a way that, to me, looks courageous. He's so creative and can always come up with games to play, songs to sing, voices and impressions, and remembers people and important things about them. He's a pro on both his bike and scooter and has found ways to manipulate toys that continually astound me. His zeal for life and fun and loving people knows no bounds and I hope his determination to make so much joy for so many people lasts his whole life time.
Happy birthday, Tag. :)
And here's a bonus Tagger:
Princess: I spy with my little eye... something brown.
Tag: A melted tree?
Princess: [struck momentarily speechless] Uh.... what?
Tag: What if aliens came and shot a tree and melted it? That'd be brown.
Princess: You're weird.
Tag: Nooooooo, I'm a cute boy. If aliens set our house on fire I'd blow the fire out. But I'd like to have a melted tree.
Folks, I just don't even know where he comes up with this stuff.
Outrage
Did you know that a US Soldier:
-- May not swim in any body of water where no life guard is present. If he does and dies, there will be no life insurance payment to the family.
-- May not cross a street outside of a crosswalk. If he is injured or dies while doing so, he will not be compensated since it was his fault.
-- May or may not be issued body armor in a combat zone. If he is not issued body armor and his family provides their own privately funded body armor and that Soldier dies while wearing that privately funded body armor, there will be no life insurance payment to his family.
Private security companies are charging as follows:
Contract information concerning life insurance is in every US soldier's contract.
-- May not swim in any body of water where no life guard is present. If he does and dies, there will be no life insurance payment to the family.
-- May not cross a street outside of a crosswalk. If he is injured or dies while doing so, he will not be compensated since it was his fault.
-- May or may not be issued body armor in a combat zone. If he is not issued body armor and his family provides their own privately funded body armor and that Soldier dies while wearing that privately funded body armor, there will be no life insurance payment to his family.
Private security companies are charging as follows:
According to data provided to the House panel, the average per-day pay to personnel Blackwater hired was $600. According to the schedule of rates, supplies and services attached to the contract, Blackwater charged Regency $1,075 a day for senior managers, $945 a day for middle managers and $815 a day for operators....An unmarried sergeant given Iraq pay and relief from U.S. taxes makes about $83 to $85 a day, given time in service. A married sergeant with children makes about double that, $170 a day.
Army Gen. David H. Petraeus, the top U.S. commander in Baghdad overseeing more than 160,000 U.S. troops, makes roughly $180,000 a year, or about $493 a day. That comes out to less than half the fee charged by Blackwater for its senior manager of a 34-man security team.
Salary information is from the Washington Post.
Contract information concerning life insurance is in every US soldier's contract.
Friday, May 02, 2008
The Crazy Shirt Dance
He just loves to dance, loves to sing, and loves to be a preforming monkey for the camera. I give you Tag and the Crazy Shirt Dance.
Round three in as many weeks
Ugh. We had thought about traveling this weekend, but I still have the flu and all three girls have a hacking cough.
Whose bright idea was it to invent germs that mutate?? I'd like to have a few words with him. (I know, I know, I took microbiology. As Pebbles would say, "leeme-lone.")
Anyway, product review time.
I have seen these around for quite a while and was curious about them. My feelings on them in one word: Blech. 18% of your daily fat intake in just two small cookies is off-putting enough. The filling puts it over the top as one of the nastiest snack cake experiences of my life. I will never buy these again. Normal Oreo filling is hard enough to handle, but this contains a lighter, whipped version that is just over-sweet enough to be too much, but not sweet enough to cover the lard taste. Two thumbs down.
Whose bright idea was it to invent germs that mutate?? I'd like to have a few words with him. (I know, I know, I took microbiology. As Pebbles would say, "leeme-lone.")
Anyway, product review time.
I have seen these around for quite a while and was curious about them. My feelings on them in one word: Blech. 18% of your daily fat intake in just two small cookies is off-putting enough. The filling puts it over the top as one of the nastiest snack cake experiences of my life. I will never buy these again. Normal Oreo filling is hard enough to handle, but this contains a lighter, whipped version that is just over-sweet enough to be too much, but not sweet enough to cover the lard taste. Two thumbs down.
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