So for the past three years I have been making these cream cheese roll ups for my co-workers. I got the recipe from a friend a long time ago. All of my co-workers have been asking for this one so here you go!
1 loaf sliced whit bread with no crusts (luckily now they actually make bead that you can buy that is crustless which saves a huge amount of time)
8 ounces softened cream cheese
1 egg
3/4 cup powdered sugar
1 cup sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
3/4 cup melted butter
*flatten bread with a rolling pin (this is great for working out frustration from the day)
*mix cream cheese, egg, and powdered sugar
*combine cinnamon and sugar and set aside
*spread 1 tablespoon cheese mixture on each slice of bread
*roll up
*dip in melted butter and cinnamon sugar mixture
*bake on an ungreased baking sheet for 20 minutes at 350.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
If You Root Against Kansas, You Root Against America
My Missouri loving husband found this article for me. It's a great article explaining some of the history behind the ever mysterious Jayhawk and discussing basketball in general. the original article seems to be a response to something Jeremy Stahl either wrote or said but, that's a side note anyway. I've included the whole thing in this post but the best part of the article is within the first four or so paragraphs. So, cheer on the Jayhawks as they move on to play another "southern" school and cheer on America!
March Madness: If You Root Against Kansas, You Root Against America
ByWhy NCAA basketball fans should love the KU team, instead of loving to hate it
If you follow college basketball, you may well hate the University of Kansas. Jeremy Stahl certainly does. Writing in Slate's annual NCAA tournament "Teams We Hate" feature, Stahl called the Jayhawks "odious" and "contemptible."
No big shock. Kansas—along with North Carolina, Kentucky, and Duke—is one of those teams that fans love to hate, like the Yankees, the Lakers, or Dallas Cowboys. KU is a high-dollar, high-pressure program, perennially in the top 20, usually in the top five, and always a threat to make the Final Four. Of course people root against the Jayhawks. Tonight, for example. Unless, like President Obama, you picked KU to win the National Championship, you will probably cheer against the Jayhawks tonight as they take on 12th-seeded Richmond. That's only natural. As Kansas alum Wilt Chamberlain once famously said, "Nobody roots for Goliath."
In this case though, that's a real shame. It's shame because hating on the Jayhawks means you hate the United States of America. Yes, you read that right.
The Jayhawk, a mythical mix of a blue jay's cunning with the ferocity of a hawk, was born in pre-Civil war era "Bleeding Kansas," when the strange bird was adopted as the mascot of abolitionist forces fighting for Kansas to enter the Union as free state. The Jayhawkers battled with Border Ruffians, many from Missouri, who wanted to bring slavery into the new territory, and who ultimately sparked a horrific, bloody war of secession. Surely, it's more than mere coincidence that the pro-Union Jayhawks must face a team from the old capital of the Confederacy tonight, and could face another on Sunday.
If you root against KU basketball, then, you are actually rooting for slavery. You're supporting the Confederacy over United States, cheering for racism, oppression, and war, and, not for nothing, you want President Obama to fail—all of which are certainly "odious" and "contemptible" by any reasonable definitions.
Or maybe Stahl just hates sports history.
Kansas basketball, certainly, has a history as rich as any team in the country, no matter what the sport, at any level of college or the pros. The first coach of KU basketball, after all, was the first coach of any basketball team, anywhere, ever. James A. Naismith brought his newly-invented sport to Lawrence in 1898, coaching for seven years before handing the reins to his heir and greatest pupil, Forrest C. "Phog" Allen.
Allen essentially created the game of basketball as we know it. He streamlined Naismith's invention, creating a sleeker, faster sport, and he founded, through sheer force of his will, many of the college basketball institutions and traditions people like Jeremy Stahl enjoy today. For just a hint of Allen's enormous influence, consider the history of two other college programs, North Carolina and Kentucky.
Both schools, as Stahl probably knows, play in buildings named for their greatest coaches. Just as KU plays in Allen Field House, the Kentucky Wildcats plays in Rupp Area, named after Adolph Rupp, while North Carolina's Tarheels play in a dome named for the legendary Dean Smith.
Does Jeremy Stahl also know, however, that Rupp and Smith both played college ball, and learned coaching, under Phog Allen at Kansas? Because they did.
Allen also was the driving force behind basketball being made an Olympic event. Without that 1936 milestone, the game would never have gone global, there would never have been any Dream Teams, and today there wouldn't be dozens of international players spicing up the NBA. If, Lord forbid, Phog Allen had never lived, Tony Parker and Pau Gasol would be playing soccer right now. While Yao Ming, meanwhile, would just be some very tall poor guy in China.
Really, if you think about it, it's very cruel of Jeremy Stahl to hope that Yao Ming lives in poverty.
Oh, and this whole March Madness/Big Dance/Bracketology thing? The tournament of thrills the whole country goes mad for each spring? That was Phog's idea, too. Allen founded the postseason tournament in 1939, through his National Association of Basketball Coaches, and handed off its management to the NCAA the following year.
Yep. As it turns out, Jeremy Stahl even hates the NCAA tournament. Can you believe this guy?
Stahl, however, is right about one thing. He was right to criticize some of the players on this year's Jayhawk roster.
Like Mario Little, for instance, suspended earlier this season after his arrest in a late-night domestic disturbance. Or the twins, Marcus and Markieff Morris, who may be perfectly friendly young men off the court, but had to break an unfortunate habit of throwing elbows on it. Or what about point guard Tyshawn Taylor? He was suspended during conference play for being a self-described "bad kid," which rumormongers claim was a dalliance with his girlfriend under the seats at Allen Field House.
Funny? Sure. But very, very against the rules, detrimental to the team, and really not the kind of thing you look for in a leader.
That kind of junk just isn't what Kansas Basketball is supposed to represent. KU may not be all snooty like Duke, with delusions of Ivy grandeur, but Jayhawk fans do expect better than tawdry sexcapades and low-rent thuggery. The Jayhawk Faithful expect more than that—from any player who accepts the challenge of wearing the crimson and blue.
Like Tyrel Reed, for instance. A senior from little Burlington, Kansas, Reed is not only living a childhood dream of playing for Kansas, he will graduate early, in three and a half years, and was named as a first-team Academic All-American.
Surely Jeremy Stahl doesn't root against kids who get good grades? Surely he also wouldn't root against sophomore Thomas Robinson.
Robinson, at just 19 years old, endured more loss this season than most people could stand in a decade. In late December, his grandmother died. Less than two weeks later, his grandfather followed. Just days after that, in mid-January, Robinson's mother Lisa passed away from an apparent heart attack at age 43—a brutal stretch for the young man. At least, though, he has had his teammates, coaches, and the whole KU community around him, and it's been inspiring to see the support Robinson and his younger sister Jayla have received.
With due respect to Richmond Spider fans—some of whom, unlike Jeremy Stahl, may not actually be pro-slavery—basketball in Kansas isn't a casual thing. For most fans around the country, of the average college hoops team, basketball is something that happens a couple of times a week, a few months a year, after football season is over.
Not for the Jayhawk Faithful, insanely committed and knowledgeable, who critique every shot, even in exhibition games, and follow every off-season recruiting rumor like national security is at stake. Show up on a game night at Allen sometime. A bad pass, a double-dribble, or silly foul will elicit genuine gasps of shock from the crowd—even if the 'Hawks are up by 30. To grow up a Jayhawk is to grow up indoctrinated. It's like being raised in a strict fundamentalist church—but the only fundamentals that matter are footwork, hustle, shot selection, and knowing how to guard the pick-and-roll.
So, go ahead, casual hoops fans. Root against the Jayhawks, if you must. Sure, it means that you show no love for passionate basketball fans, and have no respect for the history of the game. Sure, rooting against KU also means that you support slavery, hate America, and want the President of the United States to fail. Oh, well. At least you'll have Jeremy Stahl on your side.
Reuters/Bill Waugh
If you follow college basketball, you may well hate the University of Kansas. Jeremy Stahl certainly does. Writing in Slate's annual NCAA tournament "Teams We Hate" feature, Stahl called the Jayhawks "odious" and "contemptible."
In this case though, that's a real shame. It's shame because hating on the Jayhawks means you hate the United States of America. Yes, you read that right.
The Jayhawk, a mythical mix of a blue jay's cunning with the ferocity of a hawk, was born in pre-Civil war era "Bleeding Kansas," when the strange bird was adopted as the mascot of abolitionist forces fighting for Kansas to enter the Union as free state. The Jayhawkers battled with Border Ruffians, many from Missouri, who wanted to bring slavery into the new territory, and who ultimately sparked a horrific, bloody war of secession. Surely, it's more than mere coincidence that the pro-Union Jayhawks must face a team from the old capital of the Confederacy tonight, and could face another on Sunday.
If you root against KU basketball, then, you are actually rooting for slavery. You're supporting the Confederacy over United States, cheering for racism, oppression, and war, and, not for nothing, you want President Obama to fail—all of which are certainly "odious" and "contemptible" by any reasonable definitions.
Or maybe Stahl just hates sports history.
Kansas basketball, certainly, has a history as rich as any team in the country, no matter what the sport, at any level of college or the pros. The first coach of KU basketball, after all, was the first coach of any basketball team, anywhere, ever. James A. Naismith brought his newly-invented sport to Lawrence in 1898, coaching for seven years before handing the reins to his heir and greatest pupil, Forrest C. "Phog" Allen.
Allen essentially created the game of basketball as we know it. He streamlined Naismith's invention, creating a sleeker, faster sport, and he founded, through sheer force of his will, many of the college basketball institutions and traditions people like Jeremy Stahl enjoy today. For just a hint of Allen's enormous influence, consider the history of two other college programs, North Carolina and Kentucky.
Both schools, as Stahl probably knows, play in buildings named for their greatest coaches. Just as KU plays in Allen Field House, the Kentucky Wildcats plays in Rupp Area, named after Adolph Rupp, while North Carolina's Tarheels play in a dome named for the legendary Dean Smith.
Does Jeremy Stahl also know, however, that Rupp and Smith both played college ball, and learned coaching, under Phog Allen at Kansas? Because they did.
Allen also was the driving force behind basketball being made an Olympic event. Without that 1936 milestone, the game would never have gone global, there would never have been any Dream Teams, and today there wouldn't be dozens of international players spicing up the NBA. If, Lord forbid, Phog Allen had never lived, Tony Parker and Pau Gasol would be playing soccer right now. While Yao Ming, meanwhile, would just be some very tall poor guy in China.
Really, if you think about it, it's very cruel of Jeremy Stahl to hope that Yao Ming lives in poverty.
Oh, and this whole March Madness/Big Dance/Bracketology thing? The tournament of thrills the whole country goes mad for each spring? That was Phog's idea, too. Allen founded the postseason tournament in 1939, through his National Association of Basketball Coaches, and handed off its management to the NCAA the following year.
Yep. As it turns out, Jeremy Stahl even hates the NCAA tournament. Can you believe this guy?
Stahl, however, is right about one thing. He was right to criticize some of the players on this year's Jayhawk roster.
Like Mario Little, for instance, suspended earlier this season after his arrest in a late-night domestic disturbance. Or the twins, Marcus and Markieff Morris, who may be perfectly friendly young men off the court, but had to break an unfortunate habit of throwing elbows on it. Or what about point guard Tyshawn Taylor? He was suspended during conference play for being a self-described "bad kid," which rumormongers claim was a dalliance with his girlfriend under the seats at Allen Field House.
Funny? Sure. But very, very against the rules, detrimental to the team, and really not the kind of thing you look for in a leader.
That kind of junk just isn't what Kansas Basketball is supposed to represent. KU may not be all snooty like Duke, with delusions of Ivy grandeur, but Jayhawk fans do expect better than tawdry sexcapades and low-rent thuggery. The Jayhawk Faithful expect more than that—from any player who accepts the challenge of wearing the crimson and blue.
Like Tyrel Reed, for instance. A senior from little Burlington, Kansas, Reed is not only living a childhood dream of playing for Kansas, he will graduate early, in three and a half years, and was named as a first-team Academic All-American.
Surely Jeremy Stahl doesn't root against kids who get good grades? Surely he also wouldn't root against sophomore Thomas Robinson.
Robinson, at just 19 years old, endured more loss this season than most people could stand in a decade. In late December, his grandmother died. Less than two weeks later, his grandfather followed. Just days after that, in mid-January, Robinson's mother Lisa passed away from an apparent heart attack at age 43—a brutal stretch for the young man. At least, though, he has had his teammates, coaches, and the whole KU community around him, and it's been inspiring to see the support Robinson and his younger sister Jayla have received.
With due respect to Richmond Spider fans—some of whom, unlike Jeremy Stahl, may not actually be pro-slavery—basketball in Kansas isn't a casual thing. For most fans around the country, of the average college hoops team, basketball is something that happens a couple of times a week, a few months a year, after football season is over.
Not for the Jayhawk Faithful, insanely committed and knowledgeable, who critique every shot, even in exhibition games, and follow every off-season recruiting rumor like national security is at stake. Show up on a game night at Allen sometime. A bad pass, a double-dribble, or silly foul will elicit genuine gasps of shock from the crowd—even if the 'Hawks are up by 30. To grow up a Jayhawk is to grow up indoctrinated. It's like being raised in a strict fundamentalist church—but the only fundamentals that matter are footwork, hustle, shot selection, and knowing how to guard the pick-and-roll.
So, go ahead, casual hoops fans. Root against the Jayhawks, if you must. Sure, it means that you show no love for passionate basketball fans, and have no respect for the history of the game. Sure, rooting against KU also means that you support slavery, hate America, and want the President of the United States to fail. Oh, well. At least you'll have Jeremy Stahl on your side.
Friday, March 25, 2011
The Cow Calf-Hay
Anywhere else in the country this restaurant would be called The Cow Cafe, but not here good ole Oklahoma. We like to spell everything exactly how we pronounce it and yes, Cafe here sounds much more like Calf-Hay.
We go to this restaurant because I am a sucker for greasy cheeseburgers and yes...ding, ding, ding...we have a WINNER!
We'll start with the ambiance and then move onto the food. We walk in and the first thing I see is the door to the woman's restroom. It looks just like an old, rustic barn door! We turn and begin to find a table, it's seat yourself which is another bonus in my opinion because yes...I like to be in control. We are immediately greeted by a worker and they ask if our children would like to sit in a saddle to eat. I must have had a completely puzzled look on my face because the man gestured toward a saddle on what looked like a miniature saw horse and said, "the little guy can sit on that to eat if he wants." I was in hog heaven and I hadn't even tasted the food yet. There were 3-D cows coming out of the walls, and you couldn't miss the picture of the cow with it's tongue up it's nose. (Hey, at least it was it's own nose and not some other cow's nose.) Another nice aspect of tonight was that they had a guy singing with his guitar. The guy was called, the Goat Whisperer, and while I'm not a big fan of his name or the way he scrunched his eyes up when he sang, his voice was decent and he made great song choices. The music definitely made the experience more fun.
The menu is simple, just a few varieties of burgers coming in 1/3 and 1/2 pound sizes, curly fries, onion rings, and for you non-red meat eaters, I think they had a few items with chicken. My favorite part of The Cow Calf-Hay is that you can substitute ground turkey or a veggie burger for NO EXTRA COST! I love not being penalized monetarily for trying to make healthier choices.
I did choose tonight however to go with 100% pure beef. The food came out quickly and was piping hot. The burger bun had been grilled with butter which allowed the juices from to beef to soak into the bread without making the bun a soggy mess. The burger was lightly seasoned to perfection which allowed for the beef flavor to shine. The curly fries tasted as if they had been freshly cut and were actually curly, not just little fake, half curls. But the most exquisite item we ordered was by far the Cow Patty Cake...pronounced either Cow Patty-(pause)-Cake OR Cow-(pause)-Patty Cake. My husband, ever the chocoholic, was talking with the waiter and said he assumed by the name Cow Patty Cake that the cake was something chocolate. Much to my interest the waiter said it was a yellow cake with whipped cream, bananas, and strawberry sauce. The Cow Patty Cake turned out to be wonderful. The yellow cake was moist and fresh. While I can't imagine that they whipped their own cream it certainly did taste and have the texture of newly whipped cream, and the strawberry sauce was just the right amount of sweet. The bananas didn't seem freshly cut, or maybe overripe for my liking but the taste of the mixture was perfect. it would come in a close second to the strawberry banana cake at Leo's Bar-B-Que for those of you in the Oklahoma City area.
Overall, this restaurant wins my approval in all areas and I can't wait to go back. Next time you're looking for a good burger, support The Cow Calf-Hay!
We go to this restaurant because I am a sucker for greasy cheeseburgers and yes...ding, ding, ding...we have a WINNER!
We'll start with the ambiance and then move onto the food. We walk in and the first thing I see is the door to the woman's restroom. It looks just like an old, rustic barn door! We turn and begin to find a table, it's seat yourself which is another bonus in my opinion because yes...I like to be in control. We are immediately greeted by a worker and they ask if our children would like to sit in a saddle to eat. I must have had a completely puzzled look on my face because the man gestured toward a saddle on what looked like a miniature saw horse and said, "the little guy can sit on that to eat if he wants." I was in hog heaven and I hadn't even tasted the food yet. There were 3-D cows coming out of the walls, and you couldn't miss the picture of the cow with it's tongue up it's nose. (Hey, at least it was it's own nose and not some other cow's nose.) Another nice aspect of tonight was that they had a guy singing with his guitar. The guy was called, the Goat Whisperer, and while I'm not a big fan of his name or the way he scrunched his eyes up when he sang, his voice was decent and he made great song choices. The music definitely made the experience more fun.
The menu is simple, just a few varieties of burgers coming in 1/3 and 1/2 pound sizes, curly fries, onion rings, and for you non-red meat eaters, I think they had a few items with chicken. My favorite part of The Cow Calf-Hay is that you can substitute ground turkey or a veggie burger for NO EXTRA COST! I love not being penalized monetarily for trying to make healthier choices.
I did choose tonight however to go with 100% pure beef. The food came out quickly and was piping hot. The burger bun had been grilled with butter which allowed the juices from to beef to soak into the bread without making the bun a soggy mess. The burger was lightly seasoned to perfection which allowed for the beef flavor to shine. The curly fries tasted as if they had been freshly cut and were actually curly, not just little fake, half curls. But the most exquisite item we ordered was by far the Cow Patty Cake...pronounced either Cow Patty-(pause)-Cake OR Cow-(pause)-Patty Cake. My husband, ever the chocoholic, was talking with the waiter and said he assumed by the name Cow Patty Cake that the cake was something chocolate. Much to my interest the waiter said it was a yellow cake with whipped cream, bananas, and strawberry sauce. The Cow Patty Cake turned out to be wonderful. The yellow cake was moist and fresh. While I can't imagine that they whipped their own cream it certainly did taste and have the texture of newly whipped cream, and the strawberry sauce was just the right amount of sweet. The bananas didn't seem freshly cut, or maybe overripe for my liking but the taste of the mixture was perfect. it would come in a close second to the strawberry banana cake at Leo's Bar-B-Que for those of you in the Oklahoma City area.
Overall, this restaurant wins my approval in all areas and I can't wait to go back. Next time you're looking for a good burger, support The Cow Calf-Hay!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Smallest Ever 15 Month Old
So, we took my daughter to the doctor for her 15 month check up. My husband and I had high hopes in weighing our small child because we swore she was getting heavy. So we take her in, and anxiously hold our breath as the scale goes up all the way to a whopping 16 pounds. That's right, our 15 month old weighs that of most babies that are 6 months old.
Our daughter has always been small. When I was pregnant with her, my doctor sent me for three growth ultrasounds because she was measuring a little small which I guess is unusual for second babies. Each time she measured within normal ranges but on the small side so no growth restriction.
Over the past 15 months of her life, we have been amazed at how tiny and petite she has remained. We kept anticipating the huge growth spurt, rocketing her to at least the 50th percentile of the growth chart. Instead, our daughter is an outlier, skewing the normal limits on the low end. She is no where even close to falling on the growth chart.
The nice thing about this is that we aren't having to buy many clothes, although her height is causing some of her dresses to be a tad short. She has a couple of skirts and jackets that are 0-3 months that still fit her pretty well. Most of her 3-6 month shorts, skirts, and shirts still fit her and all of her 6-9 month stuff fits her. In fact her 6-9 month stuff fits her best. Most of her 12 month stuff is falling right off of her. How many people can say their infants wore the same clothes a year apart?
The not so nice thing about this is that I am once again a little obsessive and that tends to cause me to worry unnecessarily. The doctor assures me constantly that she is happy, has good color, and is perfectly healthy. I just don't know. She is WAY below the growth chart. She eats like every meal is her last meal so I know she is getting a lot of food and nutrients. Maybe she just inherited her father's metabolism because I certainly have to encourage my metabolism along with a swift kick in the patooty. I guess I just focus on that she is beautiful, and happy thus trusting that if there is anything wrong, I will know.
Our daughter has always been small. When I was pregnant with her, my doctor sent me for three growth ultrasounds because she was measuring a little small which I guess is unusual for second babies. Each time she measured within normal ranges but on the small side so no growth restriction.
Over the past 15 months of her life, we have been amazed at how tiny and petite she has remained. We kept anticipating the huge growth spurt, rocketing her to at least the 50th percentile of the growth chart. Instead, our daughter is an outlier, skewing the normal limits on the low end. She is no where even close to falling on the growth chart.
The nice thing about this is that we aren't having to buy many clothes, although her height is causing some of her dresses to be a tad short. She has a couple of skirts and jackets that are 0-3 months that still fit her pretty well. Most of her 3-6 month shorts, skirts, and shirts still fit her and all of her 6-9 month stuff fits her. In fact her 6-9 month stuff fits her best. Most of her 12 month stuff is falling right off of her. How many people can say their infants wore the same clothes a year apart?
The not so nice thing about this is that I am once again a little obsessive and that tends to cause me to worry unnecessarily. The doctor assures me constantly that she is happy, has good color, and is perfectly healthy. I just don't know. She is WAY below the growth chart. She eats like every meal is her last meal so I know she is getting a lot of food and nutrients. Maybe she just inherited her father's metabolism because I certainly have to encourage my metabolism along with a swift kick in the patooty. I guess I just focus on that she is beautiful, and happy thus trusting that if there is anything wrong, I will know.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
With a Baby on her Hip
No, I wouldn't call myself a Redneck Woman...far from it. But my daughter has suddenly decided that she cannot exist without me holding her. Now granted she did just get her MMR shot last week so she could be feeling a little under the weather. I however had a gorgeous Saturday yesterday and a deadline to complete cutting down the tree out front so I couldn't just walk around holding my daughter all day. Especially since upon reading my previous blog my husband responded, "you can't be a country girl, you don't like dirt."
We started the morning by grabbing some breakfast at Old School Bagel and then went grocery shopping. After putting the groceries away my husband and I went out in the backyard where we we have been diligently trying to remove a secondary fence and develop a plan of improvement for our plain, weed infested yard. My job was to unscrew all of the screws in the fence and remove the pickets. I was cruising along for awhile until my leech...aka my daughter...came toddling up grabbed my leg and wouldn't let go. I picked her up and proceeded to continue operating my cordless drill and removing fence pickets with a baby on my hip.
Project number two for the day...remove the remaining limbs on the tree that poops on my car. It was a glorious victory. Maggie was fine playing on her own until I started helping pile limbs up. Then magically she couldn't stand the thought of me walking from one place to the next. So, of course I wasn't about to just sit and watch the manual labor carry on without me...I needed to work off a few Spring Break pounds. So, I loaded up my extra 16 pounds and off I went dragging limbs with a baby on my hip.
By the time we finished with this I was starving. As my father likes to say, I was so hungry my stomach thought my throat was slit. We packed up and headed to BWW, our favorite wind down spot. The wait... up to an hour and a half. So we moved to our back up plan, which last night was eat at the bowling alley, and I guess while we are there do some bowling. Wow what an experience we had here.
This was Noah's first time bowling and he was happier than a tornader in a trailer park. Maggie however, not nearly as excited as brother. Actually, that isn't completely true. She was excited about all of the bowling balls as long as Momma was holding her. The minute I tried to give her to someone else, SCREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM. The cry was ear piercing and for the weak hearted momma, heart crushing. After two frames, I couldn't handle the stares from other people and I decided I would just bowl with her. The first two frames I bowled with her I got spares. Was my little M&M my good luck charm? By the end of our two game extravaganza I had bowled 5 strikes (I'm usually lucky to get 1), two of which came back to back, quite a few spares and broke 100 in both games. It was amazing. I did better bowling with a baby on my hip.
Maybe I need a couple more!
We started the morning by grabbing some breakfast at Old School Bagel and then went grocery shopping. After putting the groceries away my husband and I went out in the backyard where we we have been diligently trying to remove a secondary fence and develop a plan of improvement for our plain, weed infested yard. My job was to unscrew all of the screws in the fence and remove the pickets. I was cruising along for awhile until my leech...aka my daughter...came toddling up grabbed my leg and wouldn't let go. I picked her up and proceeded to continue operating my cordless drill and removing fence pickets with a baby on my hip.
Project number two for the day...remove the remaining limbs on the tree that poops on my car. It was a glorious victory. Maggie was fine playing on her own until I started helping pile limbs up. Then magically she couldn't stand the thought of me walking from one place to the next. So, of course I wasn't about to just sit and watch the manual labor carry on without me...I needed to work off a few Spring Break pounds. So, I loaded up my extra 16 pounds and off I went dragging limbs with a baby on my hip.
By the time we finished with this I was starving. As my father likes to say, I was so hungry my stomach thought my throat was slit. We packed up and headed to BWW, our favorite wind down spot. The wait... up to an hour and a half. So we moved to our back up plan, which last night was eat at the bowling alley, and I guess while we are there do some bowling. Wow what an experience we had here.
This was Noah's first time bowling and he was happier than a tornader in a trailer park. Maggie however, not nearly as excited as brother. Actually, that isn't completely true. She was excited about all of the bowling balls as long as Momma was holding her. The minute I tried to give her to someone else, SCREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM. The cry was ear piercing and for the weak hearted momma, heart crushing. After two frames, I couldn't handle the stares from other people and I decided I would just bowl with her. The first two frames I bowled with her I got spares. Was my little M&M my good luck charm? By the end of our two game extravaganza I had bowled 5 strikes (I'm usually lucky to get 1), two of which came back to back, quite a few spares and broke 100 in both games. It was amazing. I did better bowling with a baby on my hip.
Maybe I need a couple more!
Friday, March 18, 2011
Country Girl at Heart
I had the fabulous opportunity of being able to spend a few days with my grandparents earlier this week. My grandparents are well into their 80's and are doing really well. They both have great knowledge and can take care of their main needs.
My grandparents live in a small town in Northeastern Kansas...about 30 minutes outside of Lawrence, KS...Go Jayhawks! Every time I go visit them, I am reminded of how much I love the country. I love the sweet smell of wheat, and the rich smell of dirt and trees. I love looking out the front windows and not seeing anything except land, flowers, trees, and the occasional car. No houses, no loud trucks flying down the street at 2:00 in the morning. Just God's creation right there for everyone to see. I love sitting in my grandparent's living room before the crack of dawn and being able to look out and actually see the horizon as the shades of periwinkle, peach, and magenta begin to form with the rise of the sun. I love looking out the back door and seeing four deer right off the deck searching for food and chasing each other.
Every time I go to visit my grandparents my heart starts thinking about horseback riding, and walks through the wheat, gathering chicken eggs, and feeding every stray animal that is dumped off the highway. My heart starts beating faster as I arrive at my destination only partly because I love my grandparents. The other part is because I can't wait the peace I feel in the country. The minute I arrive I take a deep breath and my muscles relax. The minute I sit on a horse I feel empowered.
The country is like a drug for me. It is my tranquilizer. This time I was almost bittersweet. I have realized that my grandparents have lived a very extensive life which is bound to end someday. I sat by the backdoor on Monday morning watching deer root around for food in the majestically snow covered ground with my son and I realized that when my grandparents no longer live there, my long time, favorite peaceful escape will disappear. With tears forming in the corners of my eyes I held my son closely and was thankful that he was able to experience as much of this peace as he has and prayed that my grandparents might live 20 more years so that my husband and I can by their house from them while my children attend KU (or whatever ivy league school they get accepted to.) I would have to get a horse though!
My grandparents live in a small town in Northeastern Kansas...about 30 minutes outside of Lawrence, KS...Go Jayhawks! Every time I go visit them, I am reminded of how much I love the country. I love the sweet smell of wheat, and the rich smell of dirt and trees. I love looking out the front windows and not seeing anything except land, flowers, trees, and the occasional car. No houses, no loud trucks flying down the street at 2:00 in the morning. Just God's creation right there for everyone to see. I love sitting in my grandparent's living room before the crack of dawn and being able to look out and actually see the horizon as the shades of periwinkle, peach, and magenta begin to form with the rise of the sun. I love looking out the back door and seeing four deer right off the deck searching for food and chasing each other.
Every time I go to visit my grandparents my heart starts thinking about horseback riding, and walks through the wheat, gathering chicken eggs, and feeding every stray animal that is dumped off the highway. My heart starts beating faster as I arrive at my destination only partly because I love my grandparents. The other part is because I can't wait the peace I feel in the country. The minute I arrive I take a deep breath and my muscles relax. The minute I sit on a horse I feel empowered.
The country is like a drug for me. It is my tranquilizer. This time I was almost bittersweet. I have realized that my grandparents have lived a very extensive life which is bound to end someday. I sat by the backdoor on Monday morning watching deer root around for food in the majestically snow covered ground with my son and I realized that when my grandparents no longer live there, my long time, favorite peaceful escape will disappear. With tears forming in the corners of my eyes I held my son closely and was thankful that he was able to experience as much of this peace as he has and prayed that my grandparents might live 20 more years so that my husband and I can by their house from them while my children attend KU (or whatever ivy league school they get accepted to.) I would have to get a horse though!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
To Fort or Not to Fort
That is the question my husband and I have been asking ourselves for the past two days. We moved into our gorgeous house in July and we were really excited about it because it had a "fort" in the back yard. Well, upon further investigation we realized that this "fort" is really just a makeshift, unsturdy p.o.s. that is unsafe for our children. Read the supporting evidence and see if you come to the same conclusion and can provide us with any ideas for a solution.
Exhibit A: My Little Man is climbing up the ladder...one of the slats comes straight out of the side pieces of the ladder as he clings on for dear life (well he was only two feet off the ground so maybe not dear life). The ladder slat had been nailed in with 1 1/2 inch ROOFING nails. Not the best idea for a ladder that is to support all the overweight children we have in America.
Exhibit B: The slide "on the fort" was actually just resting on the lower platform, not screwed in and when my husband went to screw it in we realized that the platform wasn't at the correct height to be able to secure the slide.
Exhibit C: The top deck is unreachable from the bottom deck (there is no ladder) unless you are an adult. However when my husband jumped up on the top deck to take pictures of the garden, I thought the entire thing "fort" and husband were crashing to the ground. The entire fort swayed back and forth with his every move.
After sorting through the facts, my husband and I decided to look into purchasing a new playground for our children. We looked at Toys R Us, Academy, and OK Play. The prices varied from $300 to $5,000 (and of course the one that I fell in love with was $5,000...well $3,000 without the cedar mulch). The playgrounds vary in size and weight requirements and whether or not adults can use them. I'm only thinking for the well being of my children. If it will hold me while I'm hiding out in the upper deck or swinging, then it will surely hold my kids. It's not like I love swinging and am just using this as an excuse to buy myself a swing set. It's for the kids...all about the kids. Back to the task at hand. It seems that the differences all come down to the quality of the wood. My question, is it worth spending less money on something that according to reviews still takes 3 days to put together and doesn't hold adults or should I spend more money buying all the parts that I want to have and customize the entire thing to fit my ne...I mean my children's needs and then sweet talk my father-in-law and my husband into building the fort of my dreams for my babies? Any thoughts?
Exhibit A: My Little Man is climbing up the ladder...one of the slats comes straight out of the side pieces of the ladder as he clings on for dear life (well he was only two feet off the ground so maybe not dear life). The ladder slat had been nailed in with 1 1/2 inch ROOFING nails. Not the best idea for a ladder that is to support all the overweight children we have in America.
Exhibit B: The slide "on the fort" was actually just resting on the lower platform, not screwed in and when my husband went to screw it in we realized that the platform wasn't at the correct height to be able to secure the slide.
Exhibit C: The top deck is unreachable from the bottom deck (there is no ladder) unless you are an adult. However when my husband jumped up on the top deck to take pictures of the garden, I thought the entire thing "fort" and husband were crashing to the ground. The entire fort swayed back and forth with his every move.
After sorting through the facts, my husband and I decided to look into purchasing a new playground for our children. We looked at Toys R Us, Academy, and OK Play. The prices varied from $300 to $5,000 (and of course the one that I fell in love with was $5,000...well $3,000 without the cedar mulch). The playgrounds vary in size and weight requirements and whether or not adults can use them. I'm only thinking for the well being of my children. If it will hold me while I'm hiding out in the upper deck or swinging, then it will surely hold my kids. It's not like I love swinging and am just using this as an excuse to buy myself a swing set. It's for the kids...all about the kids. Back to the task at hand. It seems that the differences all come down to the quality of the wood. My question, is it worth spending less money on something that according to reviews still takes 3 days to put together and doesn't hold adults or should I spend more money buying all the parts that I want to have and customize the entire thing to fit my ne...I mean my children's needs and then sweet talk my father-in-law and my husband into building the fort of my dreams for my babies? Any thoughts?
Saturday, March 5, 2011
WARNING!
Never take two tired children out to dinner because you are too tired to cook at home...it will only make you more exhausted.
So the day was full of normal Saturday, family activities such as going to the library, buying stuff for the garden, watching KU beat Missouri, all the normal stuff. It gets to be late and Mr. Chuck was still shoveling horse manure...I mean compost into the garden. I had been dealing with a semi-screaming M&M because I wouldn't let her go outside in the blustery wind for fear of her getting an ear infection. So, my brilliant plan was to take everyone out to eat and just be able to relax for a little bit before going to the grocery store and going home for bed. Not so brilliant.
I somehow didn't connect that M&M's tantrums were only partly due to not being able to go outside and shove her hands in the "compost", yuck. The other part of her tantrums wasn't realized until it was too late. We arrived at Outback at 5:40 and it was already slam packed with people. Usually, we go, it's busy, we find a table in the bar area and we're done good to go. Tonight, no such luck.
We stood in the bar area waiting for a table with our two children that must have drank that silly, wiggle juice because they could not stand still. There was an older couple quietly enjoying their drinks with their to go boxes packed up. I thought to myself, "this is fabulous, they are almost done and we'll be able to sit down super quickly." So, they pay their bill and continue to sit there drinking their drinks and staring at opposite televisions. We wait a little longer thinking that any minute they will get up and we'll be able to sit down. The gray, bouffant haired woman starts putting on her jacket, then the cowboy starts putting his on. Keep in mind, they are both still sitting in the seat. They fumble around looking like a bug fighting to roll off its back. Finally they stand up, only they don't move away from the table. They just stand there waiting, straightening out their jackets...come on you're like a hundred years old who are you trying to impress. They finally move as the bus boy starts cleaning off the table. My heart starts pounding because we are finally going to be able to contain the excess squirmy, hanging on momma's leg, spinning in circles energy to half of a booth. I start to make my move to the table only to have it seat jacked by two more old people who have a had a bit too much to drink...ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I take the kids to the bathroom and just happen to walk by the seat thieves and give them the evil, teacher eye. My little man plays in the bathroom for awhile and M&M splashes water everywhere. Okay, time to face the waiting game again. I get back out and my husband informs me that he had a table for us and these four people scurried past him like little rodents running from a broom and stole another table. Give me a break.
Everything went downhill from there. Our waiter was unhappy and slow, our food took FOREVER but, they did give us our appetizer for free! My little man almost passed out in the booth and M&M was a non-stop wallower (I have no idea how to spell wallow.) AHHHH, she was cranky and squirmy because she was tired...how could I have missed those classic signs.
Lesson of the Day: If your kids are tired, you can't be too tired to cook because you will never make it through a dinner out.
So the day was full of normal Saturday, family activities such as going to the library, buying stuff for the garden, watching KU beat Missouri, all the normal stuff. It gets to be late and Mr. Chuck was still shoveling horse manure...I mean compost into the garden. I had been dealing with a semi-screaming M&M because I wouldn't let her go outside in the blustery wind for fear of her getting an ear infection. So, my brilliant plan was to take everyone out to eat and just be able to relax for a little bit before going to the grocery store and going home for bed. Not so brilliant.
I somehow didn't connect that M&M's tantrums were only partly due to not being able to go outside and shove her hands in the "compost", yuck. The other part of her tantrums wasn't realized until it was too late. We arrived at Outback at 5:40 and it was already slam packed with people. Usually, we go, it's busy, we find a table in the bar area and we're done good to go. Tonight, no such luck.
We stood in the bar area waiting for a table with our two children that must have drank that silly, wiggle juice because they could not stand still. There was an older couple quietly enjoying their drinks with their to go boxes packed up. I thought to myself, "this is fabulous, they are almost done and we'll be able to sit down super quickly." So, they pay their bill and continue to sit there drinking their drinks and staring at opposite televisions. We wait a little longer thinking that any minute they will get up and we'll be able to sit down. The gray, bouffant haired woman starts putting on her jacket, then the cowboy starts putting his on. Keep in mind, they are both still sitting in the seat. They fumble around looking like a bug fighting to roll off its back. Finally they stand up, only they don't move away from the table. They just stand there waiting, straightening out their jackets...come on you're like a hundred years old who are you trying to impress. They finally move as the bus boy starts cleaning off the table. My heart starts pounding because we are finally going to be able to contain the excess squirmy, hanging on momma's leg, spinning in circles energy to half of a booth. I start to make my move to the table only to have it seat jacked by two more old people who have a had a bit too much to drink...ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I take the kids to the bathroom and just happen to walk by the seat thieves and give them the evil, teacher eye. My little man plays in the bathroom for awhile and M&M splashes water everywhere. Okay, time to face the waiting game again. I get back out and my husband informs me that he had a table for us and these four people scurried past him like little rodents running from a broom and stole another table. Give me a break.
Everything went downhill from there. Our waiter was unhappy and slow, our food took FOREVER but, they did give us our appetizer for free! My little man almost passed out in the booth and M&M was a non-stop wallower (I have no idea how to spell wallow.) AHHHH, she was cranky and squirmy because she was tired...how could I have missed those classic signs.
Lesson of the Day: If your kids are tired, you can't be too tired to cook because you will never make it through a dinner out.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Body Discussions Begin
So about a month ago my son looked at my daughter while I was changing her diaper, looked at me, looked back at her and said, rather concerned, "momma, how does sister pee without a penis?" So without skipping a beat I explained that difference between girls and boys and it seemed to be good enough for him...for the moment. Since then a couple times a week, he just pops off with "so, momma, you don't have a penis" or "look you have big things on your chest and I have small nipples on my chest"
My discussions with my little man are always informative and serious. Mr. Chuck laughs every time (probably because he's glad to have dodged the bullet). I can hear my little man asking his daddy what sex his and daddy saying, "go talk to your mother." I've realized in this that I also had to let my little man know that there are times when we talk about special body parts and that time is really only inside our own house.
He hasn't seemed to pick up on the fact that every time he mentions this my hands turn clammy and I feel like I'm going to hypervenilate. I mean good grief, he's not even four yet and we're already talking body parts here. I'm entering a realm of uncharted territory for me. God help me when he starts asking where babies come from!
My discussions with my little man are always informative and serious. Mr. Chuck laughs every time (probably because he's glad to have dodged the bullet). I can hear my little man asking his daddy what sex his and daddy saying, "go talk to your mother." I've realized in this that I also had to let my little man know that there are times when we talk about special body parts and that time is really only inside our own house.
He hasn't seemed to pick up on the fact that every time he mentions this my hands turn clammy and I feel like I'm going to hypervenilate. I mean good grief, he's not even four yet and we're already talking body parts here. I'm entering a realm of uncharted territory for me. God help me when he starts asking where babies come from!
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