Archive for the ‘Kids’ Tag

It’s Been Awhile

An Open Letter to My 8 Subscribers:

I’m sure you have all been sitting at home, wondering each and every day when I was going to post something again.  It’s okay, you can admit it. I know there’s been a deep and aching void in your heart because of my lack of posts recently, and I apologize for being the cause of such pain.  The truth is, friends, I can’t think of a damn thing to say.  I’ve taken some pictures and tossed around some ideas, but nothing seems to click into place.  And if it doesn’t click, in my opinion, then it’s not worth writing about.  I did feel, however, that I needed to post SOMETHING, which is why this letter is happening.

Since I still seem to be unable to come up with anything of substance, here’s a look at a few of the people/places/things (i.e., NOUNS.  What? I’m an English person) that have been keeping me occupied and thus unable to form a coherent post:

We went to the City Market a few weeks ago, and I gotta say, I love that place.  I wish we lived closer so we could go more often.  I doubt I would even buy stuff every time, because most of the appeal for me is the people.  I love watching the people; in fact, I have something of a staring problem.  Thank God for dark sunglasses.

Also, I found this drawing interesting.  It was in sort of the main walkway area of the market:

Clearly, this is the work of a master.

The next two pictures represent essentially what my life has become in recent weeks:

The kids in the first picture have chosen an activity that takes up all my time, and the kid in the second picture has chosen an activity that takes up all my money.  I’m not complaining….I’m just saying.

By the way, there was a post on here yesterday called “Please Stop Just Saying,” and it was about the most annoying pop culture phrases.  “I’m just saying” was included, as was “epic fail,” “I know, right?” and “ridic.”  I thought it was funny, and quite true, even though I am totes guilty of using some of these phrases from time to time.  I would point out though, that the #1 most annoying pop culture phrase for me personally is “It is what it is.”  Ugh.  Please don’t ever say that in my presence.  It’s stupid, and annoying, and redundant, and everyone already knows that it, whatever it may, actually is what it is.

But I digress…

Okay, so finally, I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to come up with vegetarian dishes that won’t taste like shit.  Since we have basically switched over to a meat-free diet (with the exception of a few times, like yesterday when I temporarily lost my mind and somehow found myself at Wendy’s ordering a spicy chicken sandwich), I’ve had to try out a lot of new recipes.  Some of them have been pretty tasty, while others have been EPIC FAILS.  This book has yielded some good ideas:

I’ve made a couple of different dishes from here, including a butternut squash and potato side dish that ranked somewhere between okay and good.  I thought it just needed more cheese, which also cemented my belief that I will never, ever be able to live as a vegan.  Sorry, Trent, but it’s not happening.

Here’s one of the meals from the book:

This would probably be easier to see if it were on a plate, but I didn’t have any clean plates so you’ll have to use your imagination.  It’s pasta (I used rotini) topped with sauteed eggplant, onions, tomatoes, garlic, and I can’t even remember what else.  I put some fresh basil and spinach in there too, and then a sprinkling of grated Parmesan.  I rather enjoyed it.  My kids didn’t, but I don’t care, because I also rather enjoy the dramatic expressions they make and the impassioned cries of “Mom, you’re killing us!” while I force them to eat it.  Dinner and a show, as far as I’m concerned.

And that’s pretty much all I’ve got right now.  I hope to be feeling the writin’ vibe again very soon, and trying out some new recipes to blog about in more detail.  In the meantime, I’ll leave you with this:




Six-Year Old Boy + Hillbilly Teeth = I Don’t Even Know

The other night at dinner, my boy found a set of these in the silverware drawer. (And no, I do not know why they were in the silverware drawer.  I also do not know why Hot Wheels cars are in my toilet sometimes.  Pretty mysterious, huh?) 

Anyway, aren’t they attractive?

Of course, these were much more exciting than my dinner of chicken, green beans, and sweet taters.  (Ha!…taters…get it? Taters…hillbillies…fine, I’ll stop now.)  Plus, they’re HILARIOUS.  Right?  RIGHT? 

Well, this kid thinks they are.

Go ahead and take a guess at how much time was spent putting dinner in his mouth versus time spent putting hillbilly teeth in his mouth.

Let’s just say I had a request for a pb&j at 8:30 that night.

The teeth have since been confiscated.  I needed them for something else anyway.

10 Things I Do When I’m Home with a Sick Kid

Yeast-less beer bread. Yum.

1. Alternate between feelings of pity for the sick child, happiness over not being at work, and despair at my dwindling number of vacation hours.

2. Think about making bread to once and for all overcome my fear of yeast.

3. Decide that yeast is still intensely terrifying and opt for a simple, yeast-less beer bread instead.  You may notice a piece already missing from the pan.  It’s because I ate it.

4. Ignore the 9 piles of laundry in my bedroom.

5. Begin watching “Children of the Corn,” then decide that He Who Walks Behind the Rows is still creepy 27 years later and I better wait until Trent gets home.

6. Comfort sick child with extra hugs, macaroni and cheese, Tylenol, and total control of the remote.

Got my nails did.

7. Continue ignoring the 9 piles of laundry and paint my toenails instead.  It’s all about prioritizing.

8. Make beans.  Does that sound weird? Just….make beans?  I think it does.  But it’s what I’m doing.  So there.

9. Trip over dirty clothes on the floor, nearly slamming my face into a dresser, and decide that I should probably start some laundry for my own safety.

10. Eat. Ugh. 

It was a productive day.

Little Turds

I love my kids.  I love them more than life.  I love them more than I ever thought I could possibly love anyone or anything.  I love them when they’re good, when they’re ornery, when they’re disrupting the peace, barging in on me in the bathroom, spilling milk and soggy cereal in between my couch cushions, barfing in my lap….okay, you get the picture. 

Look at these pictures I found today from a few years ago.  Look at my girls:

That was six years ago.  Look at their round little faces!  Look at their wispy baby hair! Look at the snot running out of my youngest girl’s nose!  Sniff, sniff.  Sometimes I miss those days, snot and all.

Here they are now:

Look at this little turd:

My heart is melting.  That was about five years ago.  Here’s my baby now:

Personally, I like the food smeared on his face and the stickers clustered in the middle of his shirt.  It reminds me that he’s still my baby.  That way, when he says things like, “You’ve got to be kidding me, Mom,” when I put salad in front of him, I know he’s not REALLY a teenager, he just sounds like one sometimes.  Thank you, Disney Channel shows. 

Anyway, I love my little turds.  But, what I do not love, is the daily battle I have with them (namely, one of them) to eat their food.  I don’t care if it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner, my dining table becomes a battlefield that any person with half a brain cell would steer clear of.  I know this happens in a lot of households, and if you’ve found a way to avoid it, TELL ME.  NOW.  Because threats and bribes really don’t work.

I gotta say, though, ever since we started this whole eating healthy business, my kids have become ten times more open to trying new foods.  Personally, I think it’s because Trent destroyed their tastebuds when he made them try his Poop Juice, but that’s just my scientific opinion.  It might be, though, that since we’ve cut out all the processed shiz and they’re eating REAL food, they’re feeling better and realizing that fruits, veggies, whole grains, and lean meats actually taste really good.

Here’s a sample of what they eat for breakfast MOST mornings:

  • Fruit and veggie smoothie (contains: soy milk, yogurt, flax seed oil, carrots, cucumber, spinach, banana, apple, mixed frozen fruit, frozen blueberries)
  • Oatmeal with cinnamon and pure maple syrup OR honey

Sometimes, we swap out the oatmeal for toast with peanut butter and banana slices, or Kashi cereal, or if I’m feeling ambitious, I’ll make them little breakfast sandwiches with egg whites, spinach, turkey bacon, and mozzarella. 

During the week, I pack their lunch because the school lunches consist of a crap entree with two sides of junk.  I’m sorry, but fried mozzarella sticks as a main dish with a scoop of corn and a Capri Sun should not be considered a well-rounded and nutritional lunch.  So here’s what they get instead:

  • Water (yes, I force them to drink water instead of a juice box)
  • Half sandwich (whole wheat bread, alternate natural peanut butter and jelly with turkey and spinach/Romaine lettuce)
  • Baby carrots (sometimes I add tzatziki sauce)
  • Fruit (apple, banana, orange, applesauce, etc.)
  • 2 dark chocolate pieces

They are the envy of all their peers.  Not.  But guess what? They actually eat it.  And……they like it.  Or they claim to anyway.  I don’t think they’re lying, but they’ve pulled a couple of fast ones on me before.  They figured out a long time that, in spite of what I had claimed, I can’t see and hear everything they do and say, even at school.

For dinner, they eat what we eat.  Our rule is that they have to at least try everything.  If they absolutely hate it, I’m not going to force them to eat it.  (Storytime…one time when I was about five, my ex-stepmom forced me to eat creamed corn.  I told her I loathed creamed corn, and that I absolutely detested the texture of it, and that if I ate anymore of it I would vomit.  I used those exact words too.  “Too bad,” the she-demon said.  “You’re not leaving this table until it’s all gone.”  So I ate every bit of it, then prompty turned and barfed all over her.  I won.)  Anyway, I won’t force my kids to eat stuff they hate, and I will provide healthy alternatives if they’re really struggling.  I don’t wanna get spewed on.  Plus, I like to see these happy faces:

I sure do love these little turds.