Friday, November 20, 2009
Sad but true.
I intentionally make a mental note of where I park before I get out of the car because it's happened to me enough times that I now take preventative measures. So today at the commissary (where all bad things happen) I checked and saw that I was in Row I.
"I" as in "igloo". Got it. I went in the store, did my shopping and came back out.
And this is where it gets ugly.
I walk straight down Row I and get to the end without seeing my car. That's weird, I know I parked closer to the front. So I turn around and end up back at the front of the row and still don't see it. Hmmmm. Maybe it wasn't Row I maybe it was Row H, except I could have sworn my key word was "igloo" not "higloo". But I head over to Row H just in case. Unfortunately 1 in 5 cars is small and silver and I can't seem to locate the one I need.
I am so glad Skylar is at home with Micah and not squawking in the cart making this situation more stressful. I am especially glad that I bought less than 20 items so a poor bagger isn't following me around the parking lot. I hate when that happens. Not that it's ever happened of course.
I switch to my next tactic: hitting the car alarm. We all know they aren't there to protect your car, they are to help you find it. So I hit the little red button and nothing happens. I must be too far away, so I go back to Row I. I start hitting it over and over again and nothing is happening. It worked the other day, so why isn't it working now? Keep walking. Pretend like you know exactly where you're going.
At this point it briefly occurs to me that I have become that person. You know, the one wandering around the parking lot pushing a cart in circles trying to act cool like they may have just taken a wrong turn instead of having completely lost their mind....and their car.
Then it occurs to me that I have never seen anyone doing this but myself. Maybe I am the only person. Maybe the people inside the store see me coming every week and run to the windows when I leave to watch me get lost and wander around the parking lot. Maybe it's their inside joke.
As these thoughts go through my head I'm still walking around, going on lap 5 now, inwardly panicking and outwardly waving hello to the man in the red truck as he nods hi for the 5th time. Is he snickering at me??? He totally is. The worst part about getting lost in a parking lot is that there is always somebody hanging out in their car waiting and watching the whole thing go down.
And then I realize the obvious. Somebody stole the car. Crap!! Now I have to call Micah and tell him to come and get me and then I need to call the MP's. This is going to be so inconvenient right before we move. Who would want our car?????
Oh but wait.......
I didn't drive the Passat today, I drove the X-terra. No wonder the alarm wouldn't work, it was the wrong key! I should just go ahead and enroll myself in the special olympics right now. I've been looking for the wrong car for 10 minutes and there it is right in front of me. I just walked past it 6 times. And oh look, the red truck is parked right next to it. Don't make eye contact.
Just another day at the Trauma-sary.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Broccoli to die for.
But first, I have to share a cooking disaster from the weekend (just in case you thought we lived in a bubble of culinary bliss). Nicole and I decided to cook some dinner on saturday night.
Me: I have ground turkey in the freezer to use.
Nicole: Let's make Swedish Meatballs! (Nicole does not believe in making the same thing twice and likes to find new recipes).
Me: Uh, sure....I've never made that before.
Nicole: I'll look it up online!
She found a recipe that sounded good. Then we realized there were 3 sauce options to choose from according to Joan on the website (presumably Joan is the friendly Swede who shared this recipe....because Joan is a very Swedish name....that should have been a red light.)
We decided on the red wine sauce because we had all the ingredients.
So red wine sauce it was. Except that it wasn't. It was like creamy lavender buttery floury yuckiness. Nicole got concerned and told me I should try it. I was too scared, so she tried it and said it tasted like butter. She added more wine bringing it to a lovely shade of purple. Still tasted like butter. And the thought of pouring purple butter on meatballs was not our idea of a good time.
Here's a close up for you, just in case you weren't sure how unappetizing it was:
So now we just have meatballs. I stopped stocking up on groceries in anticipation of moving, so there is no tomato sauce in the house. We decided to make meatball subs out of them and I run to the grocery store and grab provolone, a loaf of bakery bread, and some sauce. I slice the bread in half and stick it under the broiler to toast.......and then I get busy peeling a tangerine that Skylar won't eat because she only eats Clemtines and I thought the tangerine was a clementine. So then I peel a clemtine and by the time I was done I remembered and screamed "The bread!"
But it was too late.......
Ever the optimist, Nicole said it could be salvaged. By the time we cut all the burnt parts off, it was mangled and pitiful but at least it wasn't purple. So we threw those meatballs on there, added some tomato sauce, and then we all pretended it was AMAZING.
In the end, the only amazing part was that dinner finally made it to the table.....pathetic though it was.
Ingredients:
4 to 5 pounds broccoli
4 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced
Good olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
3 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons julienned fresh basil leaves (about 12 leaves)
(Let me just say that I frequently leave out the pine nuts or basil....but the lemon, parmesan and garlic are what makes the recipe and I wouldn't omit those!)
Directions
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.
Cut the broccoli florets from the thick stalks, leaving an inch or two of stalk attached to the florets, discarding the rest of the stalks. Cut the larger pieces through the base of the head with a small knife, pulling the florets apart. You should have about 8 cups of florets. Place the broccoli florets on a sheet pan large enough to hold them in a single layer. Toss the garlic on the broccoli and drizzle with 5 tablespoons olive oil. Sprinkle with the salt and pepper. Roast for 20 to 25 minutes, until crisp-tender and the tips of some of the florets are browned.
Remove the broccoli from the oven and immediately toss with 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, the lemon zest, lemon juice, pine nuts, Parmesan, and basil. Serve hot.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Chai nasty.
Besides, I love the way her squishy little baby cheeks puff out when she uses a straw.
Then she started blowing bubbles in my glass and I was totally grossed out.
Needless to say, it was all hers after that.
Friday, November 13, 2009
More than just a muffin tin.
You should try feeding you toddler from a mini-muffin tin. This idea came to me a few months ago when I was desperate to get Skylar to eat something and I was trying to make it fun. (I'm sure it's not original, mom's everywhere may be doing this and I just never knew.) I put her lunch in the various muffin tin cups and let her sit somewhere special, like the couch. It makes a nice little tray so it stays pretty neat, and she spends a good 45 minutes moving her food around in the various compartments while she eats it, which means I'm able to get some things done.
It works so well that we have a muffin tin picnic a few times a month now. See how excited she gets when she sees it?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Blitz Day
I might also be in denial that we're actually leaving.
Nicole suggested we have a "blitz day" (Spring Canyon flashbacks anybody?) and she offered to take Skylar away so we could get things done. So while Skylar spent the day playing with Aunt Nicole I cleaned out every closet in the house except Micah's. It's crucial that I get organized since we are moving to a small apartment and a lot of our stuff will be in storage. It has to be labeled ahead of time to make it easier on the other end. I hate this kind of thing. (Edi where are you when I need you????)
Every room looked something like this:
I was ruthless--like I was was at my parents house last summer--and tried on every piece of clothing I own and got rid of anything that didn't fit or I hadn't worn in a year. It was hard to part with my college wind pants (yes I am aware of how dorky that sounds, but they were the epitome of casual cool at the time). I told myself that it was twelve years ago and just because you can still squeeze yourself into something you wore in 1997 doesn't make it right. So good-bye athletic wind pants with the cool side zippers and fleecy lining. I'll miss you. You made me feel like the athlete I never was.
At the end of it all I had 4 more bags of giveaway clothes from my closet and 21 neatly organized plastic bins filled with baby/maternity/summer clothes and other random things. Too much stuff.
Meanwhile, a neighbor came by and offered to buy baby things he saw in our garage when he drove by. He especially wanted the peg perego stroller. For a second I was ready to sell him everything Skylar wasn't using---swing, bouncy seat, you name it. Then I realized that even though there is no baby in the immediate future, that might be a little hasty. I tend to get a little carried away once I start getting rid of things.
Micah got to celebrate veteran's day by raking up a ton of leaves. He's a stud.
Nicole and Skylar came home with a cow outfit for Jack. It's a teensy bit small for his chubby self, but he seems to like it. It even has udders, so we can pretend to milk him, but he was too shy to show them off for the camera.
Monday, November 9, 2009
I heart candy corn.
The sugary, delicious, stick to your teeth candy corn:
More specifically, eating all the white tips off the candy corn just because you can. Everyone knows the white tips taste the best.
Then you put them back in the bowl so that nobody else wants to eat the candy corn and you get it all to yourself.
Selfish, I know. But it doesn't deter Micah.
(Clearly I grew up in a big family where it was survival of the fittest and most strategic.)
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Those dang swine.
.....and it's pretty pitiful.
(My apologies to the people who were over here last night....it appears we served a side of swine flu with dinner.)


