Why Didn't I Do This Sooner?

There are two things I really wanted as a kid, but never got.  Well, there are more than two things, but as far as things my parents had a reasonable level of control over, there are only two.  One is a surprise party.  I still haven't gotten one and it makes me sad.  I'm not even subtle about anymore.  Every year after my birthday, I inform my husband and mother that next year, I want a surprise party.  Then, I wait.  And hope.  And when no one mentions any special plans, I get so excited because I know--I just know--that this is it!  This is the year, and they haven't said anything because they think they're sneaky and later on, everyone will jump out and throw cake at me!  And every year, I am let down, once again.  My birthdays are still great, but they just aren't what they could be.

Fortunately, the second thing was something I could do for myself:  The big box of crayons!  Growing up, my parents just didn't see the need for me to have 48, then 64, then 96 (!) crayons.  Every year, I showed up to the first day of school with the same 24 colors I had the year before.  The other kids would have all the shades they needed, while I had to layer color after color, desperately hoping to achieve the same result.  It was all very disheartening.  I changed that, though.  Yesterday, I went out and bought myself the biggest box of Crayola crayons I could find.  I have 120 colors to choose from, and it looks like all I'm missing are the Metallic FX.  I'll be buying those later this week.

George was irritated that I spent $10 on a box of crayons.  1.  George doesn't get it.  2.  George just bought a new grill, when the less than two year old grill we had was perfectly fine.

George:  Babe!  Look at this!  We should buy it!
Me:  Okay.  Next time we get a grill, we'll get that one.
George:  No, I mean we should buy it now.
Me:  (Confused, as we have a perfectly good grill already) Why?  Is something wrong with our grill?
George:  Not really.  But this one has the capacity for 43 1/2 pound burgers.  Ours is only good for 25.
Me:  Umm... There are only 3 people in our family.  And Pie doesn't even eat burgers.
George:  But then we can have people over!
Me:  You hate having people over.  Besides, we don't know 43 people.  Do we even know 25 people?
George:  You have all those friends on the internet.
Me:  Yeah, because all my friends on the internet are going to come to your delusional fantasy cookout...  Never mind that you think we're all a bunch of weirdos.
George:  Well, you can cook a whole week's worth of dinner in an hour, then I can just reheat it later.
Me:  You don't eat leftovers.

I'm not sure how, but he managed to get me to agree to the grill.  Then, we had the unfortunate task of figuring out how to fit it into our tiny Saturn.  That involved taking all the pieces out of the box and cramming them wherever they would fit.  It took nearly a half hour, in the cold and snow and slush, with people staring at us like we'd lost our minds.  After that, we went home and I got to put the stupid thing together.  It is a really nice grill, though.

So, George can bite me.  Twice.  These crayons are more than just tools to compliment the coloring books I steal from Pie, they are fulfillment of a childhood dream!

They're also surprisingly overwhelming.  It took me two hours to color one page yesterday.  Most of that time was spent hunting down the crayon best suited to match.  No matter, though--that pictured turned out amazing!  It makes me sad that magnets don't stick to the new fridge.  But, they do stick to the bottom half of the grill.

Oh Lord, You Got a Snake Head in the Green Beans!

So, when I started this, I meant to update daily.  It was one of my New Year's resolutions, actually.  I'm pretty bummed about how awful I've been about it this week.  First, some good stuff happened.  Then, some neutral stuff happened, followed immediately by some bad stuff, then some more good stuff.  Basically, just a bunch of stuff, and unfortunately, it's all either embarrassing, boring, or simply does not belong on the blog.  In any case, I'm great, life is happy, and I hope to be back to blogging daily.

Since I really don't have any particular direction in my life at the moment, I like to keep myself sharp by setting little goals for the day.  Sometimes they're real goals, but they're usually nonsense, created for no other reason than to trick myself into thinking I've accomplished something.  Today's goal fell into the latter category.

I should probably explain the back story behind this, but it's almost more fun to let everyone take it where they wish.  My goal today was to slip the phrase, "Oh Lord, you got a snake head in the green beans!" into as many conversations as possible.  I had an incredibly successful day today!


First, George came home this morning, ranting about a co-worker.  Could I get it in before 9AM?  Yes.  Yes, I could!

Me:  Oh Lord!  You got a snake head in the green beans, don't you?
George:  (irritated look) So anyway, rantrantrantrantrant....

Yes!  One down!  Even if it did earn me George's patented stop-being-dumb look.


We had an appointment with Pie's nutritionist today.  After 3.5 years of people asking me what's wrong with her, I feel the need to be proactive here.  Pie's underweight.  A lot.  There's nothing wrong with her, she's just really petite.  Her first pediatrician accused me of starving her and more or less threatened me with children's services.  It was really scary, and I cried for a week, then I decided to do something about it.  I switched pediatricians and we began seeing a nutritionist.  Both the new pediatrician and the nutritionist (as well as the lactation consultant I was seeing at that time) worked together to assure me nothing was wrong and I was doing great.  The nutritionist really gave me a lot of good ideas, and Pie's still really underweight, so we still see her.  She's fantastic, covered in awesome sauce and loaded with spectacular sprinkles.  Seriously.  Anyway, that's not really relevant, just me being defensive.  And probably over-sharing again.


So, on the way there, I thought it would be a good idea to try it on Pie.

Me:  Oh Lord, you got a snake head in the green beans!
Pie:  Snake head?  Whatsa snake head?
Me:  A snake head.  Like the head of a snake.
Pie:  Does it have a pointy tongue?
Me:  Yes.
Pie:  What?
Me:  The snake head.
Pie:  What snake head?

In retrospect, targeting Pie was a stupid idea.  She forgot about it halfway through the conversation, but somehow remembered enough to bring it up at random and irritating intervals throughout the day.  I guess I now know how George feels.


Our visit with the nutritionist went fairly well.  Pie hasn't gained any weight in four months, but she hasn't lost any, either.  I also got a third one in.

Awesome Nutritionist:  Well, she's still just over 26 pounds.
Me:  Oh Lord!  That's truly a snake head in the green beans.
Awesome Nutritionist:  Well, I wou--  Wait, what?
Me:  A snake head.  In the green beans.
Awesome Nutritionist:  Okay.  You don't need to worry, though.

I could tell she was trying not to laugh, which made me really happy.  If the rest of the day sucked, at least I had that!


After the nutritionist appointment, I took Pie to McDonald's.  Now that I think about it, I probably should have taken her home and made a fresh and healthy meal, but McDonald's is one of those win-win places.  She can enjoy the company of other children in that grime covered cesspool known as the play place, and I can neglect her in favor of the free WiFi.  Super!


I ordered our food, looking for an opportunity the whole time.  Then, I got one!

Me:  Ooh!  And a shamrock shake!
McDonald's Lady:  I'm sorry, the shake machine isn't working.
Me:  Oh Lord!  If that isn't a snake head in the green beans!  Oh...  I guess just a coffee then.


While enjoying my little internet break, strange people joined us in the kiddie area.  One of them kept trying to see what I was doing on the computer, which was annoying as hell, mostly because I was doing something that may be construed as inappropriate.  Or at least embarrassing.  I managed to shake her off, but then I was further violated by a crazy person.  And coming from me, the term "crazy person" means something.

Crazy Person:  How's it goin'?
Me:  (I didn't realize he was crazy at this point.)  Outstanding.  You?
Crazy Person:  Outstanding?  Really?  That's good.
There was a little more small talk, then the crazy part came out.
Crazy Person:  You know I died once?
Me:  Umm...
Crazy Person:  I spent four days in heaven, then I went to hell for four days.  Hell was really bad.
Me:  ... Yeah, I'd imagine it would be...
Crazy Person:  Next time I die, I only want to go to heaven.
Me:  Well, I hope you do.  Hey, Pie...  Get your boots on.
Crazy Person:  I'm not sure I will.
Me:  (Suddenly remembering my goal)  Yeah, that would really be a snake head in the green beans...


Then, I silently kicked myself.  Baiting the crazy guy was probably not a good idea.  But you know what?  He stopped telling me about hell and looked at me like I was the weirdo!  What!?  As we left, I also realized that between the "How ya doin?" and dying and coming back to life thing, I missed out on what will very likely be the best opportunity I'll ever have to make a bunch of Tangled references.  I'm still disappointed in myself.  I mean, I guess the complete lack of sanity is a reasonable excuse, but still...  How did I miss that?


Of course, no day is complete without a call from my mom.

Mom:  Did you go to church yesterday?
Me:  No, I forgot.  What a snake head in the green beans, eh?
Mom:  How did you forget?  It's pretty important, you know...

At this point, my mom has figured out just to ignore me.  Go mom!


And just to round out the day, I got one more in with George before he left.

Me:  You go take care of that snake head in the green beans!

That's why he loves me.  I'm always thinking of him.


All in all, I count today as an incredible success!  And yes, before anyone points it out, I am aware that I don't exactly have the highest expectations for myself.  It's cool.  Someone great once told me that expectations only lead to disappointment.  And now that I've worked that phrase into my blog entry, I have accomplished my second goal for the day.  That is no snake head in the green beans!

It's good to be back.

ETA:  Every speck of credit for this entry goes to my lovely friend, J-Pan and her amazing early morning Google skills!

I'm Around

And busy.  More posting later this week.

Dolls Scare Me

Baby dolls scare the shit out of me.  It's not a phobia like the spider thing, but still enough for me to be eternally thankful that Pie prefers non-threatening Barbie type dolls. 

Once, when I was 22 or so, my friend's mom went on a cruise and brought back a bottle of Caribbean Cave Rum.  We drank the whole thing in about an hour, and in all honesty, that night deserves an entry all of it's own, but the important part right now happened after I had fallen asleep on the sofa.  My friend's sister, six at the time, lined up a bunch of dolls on the coffee table so that I woke up, still drunk, to their beady eyes and synthetic eyelashes staring right at me.   It was awful.

The first Christmas George and I spent together, his mom gave me a porcelain doll.  She was beautiful, but her cold, glassy gaze, and the accusing way she pointed at me were absolutely terror inducing.  I tucked her safely into the back of a seldom used closet, where I left her when we bought our house.  It's been years, but in the back of my mind, there's always that fear she'll pop up in some unexpected corner of our house, still staring and sporting that unending point.

Pie hasn't really had much interest in dolls (other than Barbies, which she can't have enough of) but they're a big thing with my in-laws, so every now and then, one enters our home.  They usually end up at the back of her built-in cupboards or the bottom of a toy bin, and I only notice them when I thoroughly clean her room.  I generally donate anything she hasn't played with in a while, but for whatever reason (most likely to terrorize me) she refuses to part with this one.

It's quite possibly the creepiest thing I've ever laid eyes on.  It's a crushed velvet stuffed bear, except instead of a cuddly bear face, it has a plastic baby face with eyes that open and close and everything.  I can't stand this thing.  I can't even describe it.  I'm too lazy to go find my camera right now and I couldn't find a Google image, but I'll post pictures of it tomorrow.

Pie found it today, while we cleaned her room, and it's now her favorite toy ever.  Of course it is.  Pie hates me.  Still, it might be just the thing to get her sleeping in her own room.  It's where she'll have to sleep if she wants that as her good night toy.  Hell will be an awfully cold the day it sleeps in my room.

Mail!

I got two things in the mail today.  One of them was my new computer, which I'm configuring right now.  I've never bought a laptop before (the one I had was free if I could get it to work) and having a computer come in one piece with half the software installed is a completely foreign concept to me.  I'm not sure that I like it.  Putting the system together and doing the install the way I like it is one of my favorite things.  I also love the smell of new computer parts.  Don't bother commenting about how dorky I am, I already know.  Still, I'm very impressed with the actual system and I'm really looking forward to seeing what it can do!  Next up, the fun of transferring everything from here to there.  Yay.

The other thing was a delightful book from the lovely akpeach!  That was so exciting I almost peed my pants!  I can't wait for Pie to go to bed so I can get to reading it.  Thank you, my fabulous friend!  That was completely unexpected and really made my day.

Other than that, I'm exhausted and while I had things planned to write about, I'm just not into it right now.  Maybe I'll wake up in the middle of the night.

Buttercream Hell

I bake almost daily.  It's something I'm reasonably good at, it's interesting to Pie, and, most importantly, it distracts me.  I generally don't eat the things I bake (unless it's bread!)  It's not because they aren't good, but after looking at them for so long, I'm just ready for them to go away.  I'm weird, I know.  It's okay though, because my neighbors and husband's coworkers love me.

Other than bread, cakes are probably my favorite thing to make.  There are so many fun things you can do with cake.  I mean, there's the batter, then any fillings or mix-ins, and finally, all the different decorating options.  I love baking cakes!  Pie's birthday is in September, and we've already decided on a cake!  I won't spoil it yet (since, you know, anyone other than me actually cares or anything) but it's going to be the most fantastic cake I've ever made.  It's also going to be the most complex cake I've ever made, so I'll probably do a couple trial runs starting in June.  I can't wait, and I'd start now, but that's a lot of cake.  Aw, hell, I'm on a tangent.  But since I'm already there, here's her cake from last year:

And because I tend to go overboard, there were cupcakes, too!

Very fun, but nowhere near the amount of awesome I have in store for this year!

Anyway, I love cakes, but every now and then, I get one that is such a bitch it makes me want never bake anything again.  It's usually something really simple, too.  Like this:

This cake makes me want to kill someone.

I didn't want to make this cake.  I got a phone call from some strange woman yesterday, informing me that my mom said I would make the cake for their boss's birthday.  I usually don't even take paid cakes with less than 48 hour notice, and to be honest, I prefer a week.  That gives me plenty of time to find out exactly what they want and if it's something I can do, and make sure I have all the ingredients and implements necessary.  It also allows me to make my icing or fondant two days before, instead of scrambling to do it all while the cake bakes (which is done the night before.)  Since it was my mom, and it's for her work, I couldn't really say no. Plus, the lady was pretty easy going about what they wanted, specifically asking for a 9" round with white roses.  The rest was up to me.  Simple enough.

Except not, because I forgot something.  I loathe making roses.  I'm terrible at it, so any cake I make them for ends up looking shit and then I just feel bad about myself.  It's pretty depressing.  I can make decent fondant roses.  I can make almost any other flower with buttercream.  Hell, I can make a whole buttercream forest as long as roses don't grow there.  But this is one thing I'm just not good at.  I made about fifty of them before ending up with about ten I was happy with.

Finally!

I'm also horrible at writing on cakes, so if it needs to be done, I tend to start there and decorate around it.  It was a major set back when the lady called me at 11:45 tonight to tell me I'd need to add "Eileen" to the cake as well.  I had already finished the writing and was starting on the rest.  I probably should have scraped it off and started over, but it's a free cake, I have a concussion, and I didn't want to.  Now I feel bad about how obvious it is that Eileen was squeezed in and how bad that makes the cake look.  Still, not bad enough to start over.

It's finally done!  My head hurts and I'm tired and I have to be up really early, but I can't sleep because I'm just pissed off about this cake.  It didn't turn out the way I wanted it to and it bugs me, but I just can't make myself go back and fix it.  Part of me thinks it's because I know if I mess with it, I'll make it worse, but the other part thinks I'm just lazy.  I don't plan to bake anything for the next week.  I wish I'd bought the boxes without the windows, though.

Goodbye, cake from hell!

I Have (Another) Concussion!

I have two kinds of luck:  None or dreadful. 

You know those over the toilet bathroom organizer things?  Like this:

 Heavier than it looks!

Yeah, last night while bathing Pie, mine broke free and fell.  On my head.  It was put together correctly, anchored to the wall, and all the screws were tight, so I'm not really sure what happened.  One minute, I was sitting there, splashing water at the child, and the next she was in hysterics and all I knew was that my head hurt like, well, like a cabinet had fallen on it.  I was a little dizzy, but tried to shake it off.  At some point, after throwing up, I was a little concerned for Pie's safety and called George to come home.  He insisted on taking me to the ER.  I hope they can tell the difference between domestic violence and random or clumsiness induced household injuries, because this isn't the first time I've had a concussion and I'm worried that George might be starting to look like a bad guy.  Holy hell, my head still hurts.

On the way home, we noticed the car was running rough.  A lot rough.  This morning, after George gave me the approval to drive, I took it to the mechanic's.  No, that's not true, I had to stop to clean it first, so I wouldn't be embarrassed to take it to the mechanic's.  The car has somehow warped into a third room for Pie and all of her shit.  That was actually good, though, as I was able to drop most of it off at Goodwill without her even noticing since it was already in the car.  (And no, I didn't get weepy over it.)

Anyway, it's the wheel bearings.  That would suck all on it's own, but it's worse because they just went bad last year.  We're eleven days past warranty on the parts.  Fuck.  That.  The good news is that wheel bearings are reasonably affordable and the better news is that our mechanic is awesome and said he'd cut us a little break on the labor.  He couldn't get over how calm I was about it.  I don't know if I was actually calm, or it was just the concussion, but I just kept that to myself.  This stuff happens to us all of the time, and there's really no sense in getting worked up over it.

The bad news--and this is really bad--is that George has two back to back long days and he's going to need to sleep in the morning.  This means I can't leave Pie at home, and that means I have the responsibility of keeping her occupied at the garage for the better part of the day tomorrow.  There isn't really anything within walking distance, so that sucks.  I'm hoping my dad will come and get us, but I know he won't be up at 8, when I get there.  My family isn't exactly made up of morning people.  And just to kick me while I'm already down, my computer is scheduled for delivery tomorrow and I won't be there to tear open the box the minute it gets there.  Boo.

In the midst of all of this, my mom volunteered me (without asking) to bake her boss's birthday cake.  I really don't want to, but it's my mom, so I guess I'd better get to it.  Oh, and with the concussion and all, I just didn't feel up to posting yesterday, but the big news was that we got Pie her first bike!  Very exciting!  I wanted to post a picture of her on it, but George is hesitant about me using real pictures.  This is the bike she chose:

I bet no one saw that coming!