Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
HAWTness
I let each of the kids pick out their Halloween costumes this year. After much bickering, each of them settled on a costume unique to their personality and Halloween wishes.
The hellion (a.k.a. Gunny) decided he wanted to be a pirate and immediately demanded I run to Safeway and buy him a parrot for his shoulder. After we discussed the lifespan of a bird, it was decided that a plastic sword would be much more practical. I did not negotiate with him over his request to give up an eye so it would like "weally cool unda da eyepatch."
My quiet monster, Caid, settled on a Star Wars character. I could tell he wasn't too keen on how tight the costume fit him by the look of surprise on his face. He streaked through the house with his Jane Fonda leotard on, embarrassed that he didn't quite look the part of a rough and tough Star Wars character. It was decided he'd still wear it as long as he got to wear the mask that disguised his identity.
When it came to Mattea's turn, she skimmed thru tons of websites until she found the right costume; a gothic Little Red Riding Hood. The costume was super cute and the addition of the red Morticia wig totally gave me the impression she was going to listen to Nirvana and start wearing black eyeliner. It was settled and all the costumes were purchased.
About a week ago, my BFF texted me and asked if Mattea was really going to be a "hot Red Riding Hood." I laughed and texted back, that no, she was a "goth" Red Riding Hood and she must have said it wrong. Surely Miss Mattea wasn't interested in the "hawtness" factor at this age.
When she got home from school, I quizzed her about her costume description. She immediately had a grin on her face she tried to hide.
"Well Mom, I am gonna be a HAWT Red Riding Hood. I'm wearing fishnets, remember?"
Wow, how could I forget such a fact on the hawtness scale. The fishnet factor immediately doubled up the sex-ay-ness points I had so carelessly forgotten.
Needless to say, she will be wearing tights underneath her fishnets. I'm not ready for fifth grade hawtness nor am I ready for her to realize that this hawtness would even matter.
I really feel bad for her first boyfriend.
The hellion (a.k.a. Gunny) decided he wanted to be a pirate and immediately demanded I run to Safeway and buy him a parrot for his shoulder. After we discussed the lifespan of a bird, it was decided that a plastic sword would be much more practical. I did not negotiate with him over his request to give up an eye so it would like "weally cool unda da eyepatch."
My quiet monster, Caid, settled on a Star Wars character. I could tell he wasn't too keen on how tight the costume fit him by the look of surprise on his face. He streaked through the house with his Jane Fonda leotard on, embarrassed that he didn't quite look the part of a rough and tough Star Wars character. It was decided he'd still wear it as long as he got to wear the mask that disguised his identity.
When it came to Mattea's turn, she skimmed thru tons of websites until she found the right costume; a gothic Little Red Riding Hood. The costume was super cute and the addition of the red Morticia wig totally gave me the impression she was going to listen to Nirvana and start wearing black eyeliner. It was settled and all the costumes were purchased.
About a week ago, my BFF texted me and asked if Mattea was really going to be a "hot Red Riding Hood." I laughed and texted back, that no, she was a "goth" Red Riding Hood and she must have said it wrong. Surely Miss Mattea wasn't interested in the "hawtness" factor at this age.
When she got home from school, I quizzed her about her costume description. She immediately had a grin on her face she tried to hide.
"Well Mom, I am gonna be a HAWT Red Riding Hood. I'm wearing fishnets, remember?"
Wow, how could I forget such a fact on the hawtness scale. The fishnet factor immediately doubled up the sex-ay-ness points I had so carelessly forgotten.
Needless to say, she will be wearing tights underneath her fishnets. I'm not ready for fifth grade hawtness nor am I ready for her to realize that this hawtness would even matter.
I really feel bad for her first boyfriend.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Dirty Nipples
Sorry for the delay in posting...I've become a blog slacker and I'm hellbent on fixing my neglectful ways. Before I jump back on the wagon with long, drawn out embarrassing stories of both myself and family, I'd like to tell you what happened to me in Target today. I can't take my children anywhere without some sort of event, comment, or otherwise comical episode occuring and today was no different.
I was tasked with the responsibility of buying a baby gift. This person had registered at Target and included in her list were breast pads. Knowing the importance of these little suckers, I decided to buy her a box along with the other goodies we had chosen for her.
As the kids and I perused the baby section, we slowly walked into the aisle containing the breastfeeding supplies and I looked for the brand she had registered for. I began to hear whines of "oh my gawd!" and "this is so disgustin'!" from my little heathens, as the older two quickly began to read the box labels and realize what we were looking at.
I'm a huge proponent of breastfeeding and nursed each of my kids to the point of feeling like I was part Holstein. I'm proud of the fact I nursed and treasure the moments I had with each of my kidlets. I reminded them of this fact as they professed their disgust and continued to hide their eyes and feign anxiety attacks in Aisle 17.
Mattea, particularly disgusted, replied, "Well, I certainly didn't look."
Hmmm. She had her eyes shut every nursing session. It's good to know she was able to be embarrassed and have modesty at such a young age. Whatever.
As I picked up a box of the pads, I heard a gasp emit from Mattea's lips and I looked over to see her staring at the baby bottle brushes.
"What? Those are for scrubbing out baby bottles. What's the deal?" I asked as I watched her with a horrific look spreading across her face.
"Mom, it says NIPPLE brushes. They're for NIPPLES."
Again, I corrected my little overthinker as Caiden cracked up and Gunny remained oblivious.
God forbid I ever have another baby...
I was tasked with the responsibility of buying a baby gift. This person had registered at Target and included in her list were breast pads. Knowing the importance of these little suckers, I decided to buy her a box along with the other goodies we had chosen for her.
As the kids and I perused the baby section, we slowly walked into the aisle containing the breastfeeding supplies and I looked for the brand she had registered for. I began to hear whines of "oh my gawd!" and "this is so disgustin'!" from my little heathens, as the older two quickly began to read the box labels and realize what we were looking at.
I'm a huge proponent of breastfeeding and nursed each of my kids to the point of feeling like I was part Holstein. I'm proud of the fact I nursed and treasure the moments I had with each of my kidlets. I reminded them of this fact as they professed their disgust and continued to hide their eyes and feign anxiety attacks in Aisle 17.
Mattea, particularly disgusted, replied, "Well, I certainly didn't look."
Hmmm. She had her eyes shut every nursing session. It's good to know she was able to be embarrassed and have modesty at such a young age. Whatever.
As I picked up a box of the pads, I heard a gasp emit from Mattea's lips and I looked over to see her staring at the baby bottle brushes.
"What? Those are for scrubbing out baby bottles. What's the deal?" I asked as I watched her with a horrific look spreading across her face.
"Mom, it says NIPPLE brushes. They're for NIPPLES."
Again, I corrected my little overthinker as Caiden cracked up and Gunny remained oblivious.
God forbid I ever have another baby...
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Edible Turtles
I'm always on the lookout for new cookie recipes and I found one that was completely and utterly delish. Although I'm not traditionally a "boy" cookie fan, this one was more the better due to the nut factor. So here ya go, the cure to PMS and any issues of depression you maybe facing ;-).
Chocolate Turtle Cookies
1 cup of room temperature butter
1 1/2 cups of sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups unbleached flour
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1 tsp baking soda
pinch of salt
1 cup of chocolate chips (can be milk or white chocolate)
1/2 cup chopped pecans
8 wrapped caramels, each cut into four pieces
Cream the butter and sugar together, and then add in the eggs and vanilla. In another bowl, mix all the dry powder ingredients and then slowly add them to the creamed batter. After the dough is well mixed, fold in the chips, nuts, and caramel chunks and then refrigerate for at least four hours. If you do not chill your dough, the caramels will sink to the bottom and stick to the pan. I chilled mine overnight and they came out perfect. Roll your chilled dough into balls and bake for 8-10 minutes at 350 degrees. When the cookies are sufficiently cooled, you can drizzle additional caramel on top for a special effect.
This dough would also make a great chocolate chip cookie dough base as it has a great flavor and is very chewy. Let me know what you think!
Chocolate Turtle Cookies
1 cup of room temperature butter
1 1/2 cups of sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups unbleached flour
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1 tsp baking soda
pinch of salt
1 cup of chocolate chips (can be milk or white chocolate)
1/2 cup chopped pecans
8 wrapped caramels, each cut into four pieces
Cream the butter and sugar together, and then add in the eggs and vanilla. In another bowl, mix all the dry powder ingredients and then slowly add them to the creamed batter. After the dough is well mixed, fold in the chips, nuts, and caramel chunks and then refrigerate for at least four hours. If you do not chill your dough, the caramels will sink to the bottom and stick to the pan. I chilled mine overnight and they came out perfect. Roll your chilled dough into balls and bake for 8-10 minutes at 350 degrees. When the cookies are sufficiently cooled, you can drizzle additional caramel on top for a special effect.
This dough would also make a great chocolate chip cookie dough base as it has a great flavor and is very chewy. Let me know what you think!
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Redo! A Barnyard Love Story
He saw her as soon as she pulled into the driveway, admiring how the sun played off of her short blond hair and cast a golden hue on her cherubic face. He had first met her a few months back, exchanging nothing but quick sordid glances that appeared to leave both parties in a state of attraction. He knew he loved her from the moment he saw her and he could only imagine that she returned the feelings he held so strongly. Yes, they were from different worlds, opposite ends of the spectrum, but he knew that they could make it work with a little determination and a great deal of passion.
She saw him watching, leering if you will, and she immediately put up her guard. She didn't trust this fellow nor did she return the sentiment she could see oozing from his eyes. As she got out of her car he immediately approached her, keeping his distance all the while, but steadily holding her gaze with his caramel colored eyes. She slowly approached the house, as to not break his searing gaze nor anger him by appearing disinterested. He followed her, closely, and she could feel his hot breath on backs of her bare legs. She turned around to look at him, giving him a silent warning to hold his distance. She was a woman to be reckoned with and he needed to know this.
He saw her glance back at him and this just excited him more. She was only playing hard to get and he was sick of playing these mind games with her. He had always been well loved amongst the females and this time surely was no different. He knew that he needed to make his move and with one swift jump he grabbed her from behind, breathing hotly in her ear. She immediately reached back to push him away, denying the burning lust that he felt so strongly for her.
As she broke into a sprint towards the front door, he chased her, shrieking for her to stop and to give into the feelings she surely had for him. She continued to run, clutching the back of her right thigh and crying out in pain. He could see blood streaming down her leg and he suddenly realized that in his urgent yearning, he had accidentally injured his lover's leg. The site of her blood strangely exited him and urged him on even more in his quest for her favor. The chase continued for another few moments until she breeched the threshold of the house and promptly slammed the door in her suitor's face. He sat there for a moment, completely shocked at the rejection she had presented him with. He knew that she was someone who could be the mother of his children; the woman of his dreams; how could she not realize that?
He sat there for a few moments, silently listening to her screaming and endless profanities that he assumed were directed towards him. He would wait and hope that she would soon calm down and understand how important his longing was for her. Time was on his side and she would learn to love him back in time.
She looked out onto the front porch and saw the rooster still sitting there, perched on the ledge like an evil gargoyle. He was staring in the window piercing her with his beady little eyes, still full of lust. Her thigh was throbbing from where his spurs had barbed her and she calculated that she might need a few stitches if not a tetanus shot. She was beyond angry and swore vengeance against that damn rooster who took great pleasure in chasing her whenever she stopped by to visit her beloved grandchildren. No more could this rooster rule the driveway and residence, causing grief to her and any other person who chose to walk up the driveway. She had a twenty two caliber solution to the horny rooster problem and she just needed nap time in order to enact her plan.
Once the kids were settled snug in their beds, she slowly crept outside clutching the grips of the gun. The rooster, perked up by her presence, immediately began to do a throaty crow, in an attempt to impress his temptress. He began to slowly walk towards her, displaying his regal feathers as he knew that she was surely impressed with his handsome physique. As he approached her, she tightly squeezed the grip of the gun in her sweaty palms. The pressure on the trigger built up and was released in a spray of pure, unfiltered sulfur smelling well water that blasted him in the face and body. He quickly drew back, in an attempt to breathe through the pounding of water. Realizing that a hasty retreat would more than likely be the only way to save his life from a watery grave, he flew across the yard to the safety of the orchard.
It was that moment when their relationship ended. He realized that the love he had for her was one-side and would never to be returned. His heart ached for her but he knew that he had to go on. There were more ladies in the barnyard but none that had the legs that Grandma D had, nor the cougar qualities that he craved in such an attractive hen.
This sad story of impossible love is a true one; lived out in our barnyard. Our heroine was ultimately faced with a tetanus shot, a butterfly bandage of her wound, and a large doctor's office copay. Our hero later met his fate with a dose of lead poisoning as he tried to molest the mail lady, UPS driver and Schwan’s guy. He had so much love to give but just didn't know how to give it. Rest in peace horny rooster.
She saw him watching, leering if you will, and she immediately put up her guard. She didn't trust this fellow nor did she return the sentiment she could see oozing from his eyes. As she got out of her car he immediately approached her, keeping his distance all the while, but steadily holding her gaze with his caramel colored eyes. She slowly approached the house, as to not break his searing gaze nor anger him by appearing disinterested. He followed her, closely, and she could feel his hot breath on backs of her bare legs. She turned around to look at him, giving him a silent warning to hold his distance. She was a woman to be reckoned with and he needed to know this.
He saw her glance back at him and this just excited him more. She was only playing hard to get and he was sick of playing these mind games with her. He had always been well loved amongst the females and this time surely was no different. He knew that he needed to make his move and with one swift jump he grabbed her from behind, breathing hotly in her ear. She immediately reached back to push him away, denying the burning lust that he felt so strongly for her.
As she broke into a sprint towards the front door, he chased her, shrieking for her to stop and to give into the feelings she surely had for him. She continued to run, clutching the back of her right thigh and crying out in pain. He could see blood streaming down her leg and he suddenly realized that in his urgent yearning, he had accidentally injured his lover's leg. The site of her blood strangely exited him and urged him on even more in his quest for her favor. The chase continued for another few moments until she breeched the threshold of the house and promptly slammed the door in her suitor's face. He sat there for a moment, completely shocked at the rejection she had presented him with. He knew that she was someone who could be the mother of his children; the woman of his dreams; how could she not realize that?
He sat there for a few moments, silently listening to her screaming and endless profanities that he assumed were directed towards him. He would wait and hope that she would soon calm down and understand how important his longing was for her. Time was on his side and she would learn to love him back in time.
She looked out onto the front porch and saw the rooster still sitting there, perched on the ledge like an evil gargoyle. He was staring in the window piercing her with his beady little eyes, still full of lust. Her thigh was throbbing from where his spurs had barbed her and she calculated that she might need a few stitches if not a tetanus shot. She was beyond angry and swore vengeance against that damn rooster who took great pleasure in chasing her whenever she stopped by to visit her beloved grandchildren. No more could this rooster rule the driveway and residence, causing grief to her and any other person who chose to walk up the driveway. She had a twenty two caliber solution to the horny rooster problem and she just needed nap time in order to enact her plan.
Once the kids were settled snug in their beds, she slowly crept outside clutching the grips of the gun. The rooster, perked up by her presence, immediately began to do a throaty crow, in an attempt to impress his temptress. He began to slowly walk towards her, displaying his regal feathers as he knew that she was surely impressed with his handsome physique. As he approached her, she tightly squeezed the grip of the gun in her sweaty palms. The pressure on the trigger built up and was released in a spray of pure, unfiltered sulfur smelling well water that blasted him in the face and body. He quickly drew back, in an attempt to breathe through the pounding of water. Realizing that a hasty retreat would more than likely be the only way to save his life from a watery grave, he flew across the yard to the safety of the orchard.
It was that moment when their relationship ended. He realized that the love he had for her was one-side and would never to be returned. His heart ached for her but he knew that he had to go on. There were more ladies in the barnyard but none that had the legs that Grandma D had, nor the cougar qualities that he craved in such an attractive hen.
This sad story of impossible love is a true one; lived out in our barnyard. Our heroine was ultimately faced with a tetanus shot, a butterfly bandage of her wound, and a large doctor's office copay. Our hero later met his fate with a dose of lead poisoning as he tried to molest the mail lady, UPS driver and Schwan’s guy. He had so much love to give but just didn't know how to give it. Rest in peace horny rooster.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Redo! The Truth About Polar Bears
Over the weekend, D-man took both grandpas and the chitlins' out to our hunting cabin in the Mattole Valley. They claim it's a "hunting" trip but in all reality, the only thing they bring back is a load of firewood and a lot of crushed beer cans. I don't mind because it's all about the family time and I truly appreciate the fact that my kids get to enjoy such a great bonding experience with both their grandpas and dad.
D-man shared with me a story that happened over dinnertime. The family had settled into a nice dinner which included a disgusting can of peas that Grandpa Dale tried to convince the kids to eat. Even D-man agreed that the peas resembled baby food more than something delicious and edible. While the kids whined their way through dinner, Papa Tom thought he'd lighten the mood with a little joke.
Papa Tom: Hey kids, do you know how to catch a polar bear?
Kids: Intrigued. No, how?
Papa Tom: You cut a hole in the ice.
Kids: Yeah.
Papa Tom: Then you take these here green peas and sprinkle them around the hole.
Kids: Huh? Clearly confused, they keep listening.
Papa Tom: When the polar bear comes in to take a peak, you kick him in the ice hole.
The kids erupted into tremendous laughter and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. C-dub seemed to enjoy the joke the most as he had big, fat tears rolling down his chubby little cheeks. I don't know that he necessarily understood it, but the whole idea that it sounded like a naughty word and you got to kick a bear in the big 'ole butt was enough to do him in.
Cute joke. I just hope C-dub doesn't repeat it on Friday Share Day.
D-man shared with me a story that happened over dinnertime. The family had settled into a nice dinner which included a disgusting can of peas that Grandpa Dale tried to convince the kids to eat. Even D-man agreed that the peas resembled baby food more than something delicious and edible. While the kids whined their way through dinner, Papa Tom thought he'd lighten the mood with a little joke.
Papa Tom: Hey kids, do you know how to catch a polar bear?
Kids: Intrigued. No, how?
Papa Tom: You cut a hole in the ice.
Kids: Yeah.
Papa Tom: Then you take these here green peas and sprinkle them around the hole.
Kids: Huh? Clearly confused, they keep listening.
Papa Tom: When the polar bear comes in to take a peak, you kick him in the ice hole.
The kids erupted into tremendous laughter and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. C-dub seemed to enjoy the joke the most as he had big, fat tears rolling down his chubby little cheeks. I don't know that he necessarily understood it, but the whole idea that it sounded like a naughty word and you got to kick a bear in the big 'ole butt was enough to do him in.
Cute joke. I just hope C-dub doesn't repeat it on Friday Share Day.
Redo! The Birds And The Bees
As I'm sitting here blogging tonight, I look over to see sweet little Taterbug reading a book to C-dub. They seemed intently focused on the pictures accompanying the story she was ever so lovingly narrating to her little brother. I settled back into my own little world until I began to hear some snickering and the occasional word that perked my mommy radar. But when she uttered the phrase, "It is not uncommon for him to mount various objects, and people, in an effort to satisfy his mature sexual urges," I knew it was time to step in.
Mommazilla: Whatcha readin' there Tater?
Taterbug: Just a book about dogs.
Mommazilla: Show me.
She holds up a book about Golden Retrievers and shows me the picture she and C-dub were studying. It's a diagram of a very well endowed male dog, penis and all. His momma would have been proud.
Mommazilla: Tater, read a different chapter, K?
Taterbug: OK Mom, but why?
Mommazilla: Well, it's not something that C-dub needs to see or hear. He'll get nightmares or something...I start to mumble a rebuttal but she thankfully turns the page.
She continues reading to C-dub and I settle back into my computer world. She starts reading again and life is good until I hear, "If you need to walk your bitch, take her in the car to a nearby park or field for a chance to stretch her legs." Taterbug and C-dub both start laughing hysterically, knowing full well that they had just read an expletive in a real, live book.
Mommazilla: Taterbug! Enough! That word is a naughty word but it's also the name for a female dog. OK?
Taterbug: Giggling... OK Mom.
C-dub: We have bwiches Mom! Taterbug is rolling at this point.
Taterbug: C-dub's right! We do!
Mommazilla: Yes we do and they each have a name, so use it rather than your new word. K?
The conversation ended with me confiscating the book. I know that "the talk" is coming soon but I want to have reinforcements for this one - I may pass out or worse, start giggling uncontrollably. Grandma Tain did buy us a wonderful book, fully explaining "the talk" (with great cartoon lovemaking included - gag!) but I'm just not ready. I'm torn whether or not to let her learn the way I did - 3rd grade, girl's bathroom, the first girl with boobs and her period layed it down for us. I think I'm just going to wait it out just a bit and try to grow a set of cajones big enough to tackle this task because right now, I'm a self-proclaimed virgin at all this stuff.
Mommazilla: Whatcha readin' there Tater?
Taterbug: Just a book about dogs.
Mommazilla: Show me.
She holds up a book about Golden Retrievers and shows me the picture she and C-dub were studying. It's a diagram of a very well endowed male dog, penis and all. His momma would have been proud.
Mommazilla: Tater, read a different chapter, K?
Taterbug: OK Mom, but why?
Mommazilla: Well, it's not something that C-dub needs to see or hear. He'll get nightmares or something...I start to mumble a rebuttal but she thankfully turns the page.
She continues reading to C-dub and I settle back into my computer world. She starts reading again and life is good until I hear, "If you need to walk your bitch, take her in the car to a nearby park or field for a chance to stretch her legs." Taterbug and C-dub both start laughing hysterically, knowing full well that they had just read an expletive in a real, live book.
Mommazilla: Taterbug! Enough! That word is a naughty word but it's also the name for a female dog. OK?
Taterbug: Giggling... OK Mom.
C-dub: We have bwiches Mom! Taterbug is rolling at this point.
Taterbug: C-dub's right! We do!
Mommazilla: Yes we do and they each have a name, so use it rather than your new word. K?
The conversation ended with me confiscating the book. I know that "the talk" is coming soon but I want to have reinforcements for this one - I may pass out or worse, start giggling uncontrollably. Grandma Tain did buy us a wonderful book, fully explaining "the talk" (with great cartoon lovemaking included - gag!) but I'm just not ready. I'm torn whether or not to let her learn the way I did - 3rd grade, girl's bathroom, the first girl with boobs and her period layed it down for us. I think I'm just going to wait it out just a bit and try to grow a set of cajones big enough to tackle this task because right now, I'm a self-proclaimed virgin at all this stuff.
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