August's Perfect Post: A Nasty Phone Tale

For August's Perfect Post, I selected Karla at Karlababble for her post today entitled, Where can I get a 55-gallon drum of hand sanitizer? I've read Karla's blog for a long time now, and the woman can always manage to make me laugh aloud, even when she's simply ranting about a nasty-filthy phone at her office. If you asked me, that's a gift!

It's been a long hot freakin' month. A good laugh right here to cap it off was just what I needed. So, thanks, Karla! And, if you're looking for a chuckle, go check her out. And, if you enjoyed that, go visit her daily. You won't leave frowning, I'm sure!

The Perfect Post Awards are a way for other bloggers to nominate their favorite blog post of the month as a way to thank writers for their great work! Go check out all of this month's winners at Suburban Turmoil and Petroville.

A Letter of Importance...

Dear PTO Presidents and Fundraising Chairpeople everywhere,

I am writing to you with a desperate plea. I know this letter may come too late for the plans you have already orchestrated for this year, but perhaps I can save us for next year. If I can save one parent, it will be worth this letter.

The beginning of the school year, we parents rejoice in the knowledge that our children will be educated and entertained for several hours out of the day outside of our presences. After a summer of sibling squabbles, those first few weeks of school are like an oasis in the desert that is parenthood. And, then it happens....

And, like childbirth, our brains have forgotten the worst of it--repressing away the memories from the previous year. We are hit by surprise at your...

FUNDRAISING HELL!!!

Every year, we are bombarded by the catalogs with ugly wrapping paper, annoying knick-knacks that you'd never buy any other time, and barely-scented candles. Why, oh why must you do this to us?

As parents, don't you KNOW that by the time school finally gets here, we are emotionally spent? Do we have to be financially spent as well?

This year, I'll get it from "both ends" with my daughter starting preschool too. (Fortunately, her school is doing a wonderful discount coupon book sale and I've already gotten orders from several friends since we are all coupon lovers. I can live with that. Take a hint--coupon books = GOOD...."country" themed knick-knacks = BAD...very BAD!)

And, my son's school has already started sending the warning notes to parents in the backpacks. Get ready! It's coming! Every day we get a new one. They're like Burma Shave billboards reminding us of the horror that is to come. As if we really are excited about selling really horrid wrapping paper every SINGLE year?

I realize that schools need money. But, can't you just cut to the chase with a note home asking for a check? Because, I think most parents would rather fork over some cash directly then have to call their family and friends ONE MORE TIME and ask them to order candles. You can only have so many candles people! I'm a candle lover and I say enough is enough! I can't put my family and neighbors through this anymore!

Even worse are the "incentives" (read mind-controlling games) planted in the brains of our youth. Sell $50 and you get a glow in the dark pencil. Oh, but, if you sell $300 well you get the plush rockstar bear. And, who wouldn't want that kids? Huh? Huh?

You are turning our youth into "tchotchke" loving telemarketers, and the insanity MUST STOP! It takes months for us to erase from their minds the damage you have bestowed upon them!!!

I'm sorry. I lost my composure there for a moment.

This is my formal request that you cease and desist the bombardment of all fundraising in the forms of candles, wrapping paper, bad holiday gifts and ornaments, cookie dough that never rises when you bake it, calorie-dense candy bars and coated popcorn, etc. (You get the picture.)

If you cannot respect this request and look into a fundraiser that lets parents buy something that is somewhat useful in our lives, then I will be forced to boycott all future fundraisers. And, when my kids have tantrums that they can't have the plush rockstar bear, well...I'm sending them to your house!

Thank you for your time,

Crazy MomCat

And, the universe shifts back again...

My son had to do his first project on the planets towards the end of his kindergarten year. He chose to make a model of Pluto, deciding that was his favorite planet. The voting scientific community has now decided that Pluto should not be named as a planet, a move that has a lot of scientists up in arms and might change all we have been taught about our solar system over the years, not to mention a TON of textbooks out there.

There are many people who believe that lives are aligned with certain planets, and those alignments help determine our fates and our futures. I'm not a huge believer in planetary alignment determining my destiny, actually. But, I do believe that things happen in your life for a reason. God works in mysterious ways to even the balance in our lives when we need it the most. This week, I'm finding my balance again as things shift back into place in unexpected ways.

My visits twice daily to the bus stop shocked me back into a reality that I'd abandoned during a summer of mainly family time. That reality is that I don't really "fit" with many of the at-home moms on my street. My planetary alignment is way off with these ladies, I've decided. After witnessing the public snubbings and then listening to the gossip mills starting to crank up after only the first day of school, I felt annoyed and already tired of it. How could I spend another year watching this stuff go on and trying to stay out of it, but not so far out that my kids are exiled out of our "solar system?"

Saturn wasn't in the school bus zone either, when my son started off the school year by committing social suicide, choosing to sit at the front of the bus near the kindergarteners. He was completely oblivious that it was "uncool" and most of the 1st and 2nd graders sit at the middle to the back of the bus. I worried that this could be a bad start to his year, as I watched these kids form playdates excluding him. But, every day, he has come home with a smile on his face and I genuinely think he's enjoying first grade a lot. We've initiated playdates and are starting to have more social opportunities as well, which he is happy about too.

This Monday, Mars might have been in my friendship zone, as I went to a Bible study/book discussion group at my church. Somehow the conversation shifted to dealing with difficult neighbors, and I shared my frustrations. I got back some great advice and feedback. But, what helped the most was to talk to these women who live a lot like I do, and realize that they also see the same unnecessary cattiness that goes on in suburbia. It was so refreshing to talk with people who don't like that sort of stuff and hear how they avoid it or deal with it head on. I walked away invigorized and determined to just be myself and let the chips fall where they may.

And Uranus and Neptune? Could those tiny planets be responsible for my needing to re-align my own personal life? I need a new focus now that my daughter is going to Mother's Day Out two mornings a week. Granted, I have a list a mile long of things I could be doing--like sorting out closets, working out, scrapbooking, and cleaning out my scrapbooking area. And, I will be doing those things as well. But, what pumped me back into to orbit most of all, was finding out that a local quarterly magazine needed freelance writers and they were LOOKING for at-home writers AND paying decently per article! I immediately started updating my dusty old resume and have hopes of pitching some ideas to them today. I may be getting too hopeful with all of this, but if it works out, it will be the ideal way for me to get into freelancing and get myself published so that one day I can do this more full-time.

And, remember those gossipy neighbors that I felt I did not fit in with? Well, as it turns out, there have been planetary shifts in our neighborhood's solar system as well--as 4-5 houses have sold on our street in the past few months. After meeting one of the new neighbors last week, I noted to my husband how down-to-earth and NORMAL she seemed.

Today, as I sat in a volunteer meeting for my daughter's preschool, I started chatting with a lady who had come in late to the meeting and sat next to me. She explained how she was new to the area, having just moved. When I asked her where she lived, lo and behold it was in my neighborhood! When I asked the street on which she lived, she ironically lives on my street just a few houses away! I approvingly took note of her casual appearance, t-shirt and ponytail, little makeup, much like how I look first thing in the morning at preschool drop-off. The gossip moons might not shine down upon that sort of wardrobe on our street really, but I accept it wholeheartedly! So, maybe this means there are TWO normal people on my street who are less interested in showing off their latest SUV or designer bag and more interested in just "aligning ourselves" as friendly neighbors!

Yep...Pluto or no Pluto, and no matter what is in or out of my planetary alignment, I think this might be shaping up into a decent school year!

Random Bits of Goodness All Fried Up in One Pot

Welcome back to the Stir Fry, a little bit of this-and-that floating around in this crazy kitty's brain, all mixed up in my big wok for your reading consumption. OK, so I was too busy to get a Stir Fry in for Friday. So, how about a weekend edition? Saturday stir fry? Here you go, enjoy!

• I just saw the best movie out there for all little boys and maybe some fathers too. OK, I'll admit it, I enjoyed it too. How to Eat Fried Worms was a great book that I remembered reading as a kid. The movie version does it justice as well. It's all still there, the big worm eating challenge, the special worm dishes cooked up for the dare, and the juvenile humor. My son was laughing out loud, as was I. But, mixed in was the real reason I wanted him to see the movie, the lesson of dealing with bullies in the best way you know how and ended up on the top for just being yourself. In this day and age, it is refreshing to see a movie that has a great moral lesson that kids can take away with them. Even the bully in the movie ends up changing his tune. It was a definite thumbs up. Now, if I can just get out of taking him to see Barnyard...



• I freaking hate BLOGGER! Since I got my new design, it only randomly lets me insert a graphic in my entries using its handy dandy button interface. Most often, I have to cut and paste a path to an old graphic in, then change the file name. Don't ask me why this works, but it does. Kiss it, Blogger!



• I'm starting to realize that my late-night, insomniac habits may be a little off of kilter. I shared with a friend that when I can't sleep I use my favorite search engine to find out more about everything. Want to know more about the Universal Unitarian religion? It's all there! Wondering how they got the name "donuts" (doughnuts)? It is one click away! You see, if something puzzles me during the day, I think--hmm...I should look that up. Quite often, at 2 in the morning, these things will be floating in my head, calling me out of bed to find the answers. I've learned quite a lot doing this actually, like whether Nick Arrojo on What Not to Wear is gay (nope, married) and how long Carmindy (same show) has been in the makeup biz. I have this theory that the best way to really learn about someone is to tap into their search engine searches and see just what the hell they're reading about when no one is looking. However, I'm quite certain if someone did that to me, I would be committed for life!



• I've not really understood the trend of bloggers to create their own t-shirts and sell them online. I guess if everyone knew I blogged,I might see the humor in buying one. And, if I did buy one, it most certainly would be this one I think.
  
  
• So, tell me any of you stay-at-home moms out there, have you gotten the organization itch yet? My friends have now pulled me into this back-to-school bug. One friend painted her daughters entire room on the first day both her kids were in school. The other friend is going through her closets. Me, I was all about finally get a good brow wax after a summer of bushy mini-moustaches sitting above my lids. But, tonight, while my daughter was in the bath, I tackled her closet and it sure feels good to be organized. Next stop, my son's closet and a stop off at Flylady.com. If you haven't checked this site out, you will be amazed!



• Well, I'm biting the bullet and seeing a dietician. My husband got me a heartrate monitor for my birthday. Now, I have discovered one of two things A> I either don't know how to work the darn thing or B> I'm burning a freakish amount of calories with my workouts (I choose to believe B. SHUT UP and let me live in my pretty little world!)
  
  So, that means it is what I'm eating. Since I don't eat a TON, I have to assume it is the combination of what I'm eating. So, I'm taking a chance. If this diet "hoser" tries to tell me to "eat whole wheat" and shit, I may have to kickbox her. I've been eating whole wheat since before it was totally cool to eat whole wheat, people. I know the way of high fiber/whole grain. Give me A BREAK!
  
  More updates to come on how this appointment goes... If nothing helpful comes of this, I will be hiring a trainer and possibly converting to Kabbalah because WTF, if Madge can look this fab at almost 50, when she has the Russian Mafia breathing down her neck, then why the hell can't I?



• I'm enjoying some new blogs lately and returning to an old favorite. Check out Mamaritaville and PhatMommy for some grins and Cheryl at Paper Napkin is always a great read. The second two bloggers are taking on something I can't even imagine doing myself, homeschooling. My hat's off to them for that!

OK, now that I'm reading back over this, this stir fry is very bland. I need some spice! Oh, wait, I think I got that last weekend. OK, bland veggies and rice will do for awhile, I guess!

What It Really Meant to Me...

My romantic weekend getaway surprise to celebrate my husband and my 14th wedding anniversary was really great, but I haven't been able to write yet about how truly pivotal it was in our relationship.

Perhaps some of you who have been married or committed to someone for awhile can relate. You have some kids and get into the routine of things. And, it seems like the connection that was once there between the two of you fades and all that seems to glare back at you are the things you have to give up to be together. Marriage always involves compromise and sacrifice. I was fortunate enough to marry someone who has very similar taste to myself. Our interests overlap in many areas.

But, our relationship is not perfect. In fact, we've been on shaky ground more than once over the past few years. I would be lying if I didn't say I wondered sometimes if we'd make it. I'm sure my husband could say the same as well. Our friendship and commonality is truly a gift, but our disconnects are serious enough that they could spell the end of things if we let them.

That's why my husband's surprise bowled me over this weekend. For years I have dropped little hints about things that I like, mainly for birthdays and such, thinking he wasn't listening. He's always given me wonderful gifts and things and is a very thoughtful and helpful partner, especially with the day-to-day stuff. So, I couldn't really complain. But, I still felt like he didn't really "get" it at times.

When we pulled up to the beautiful bed and breakfast that he'd arranged for us without my knowing, I really felt overwhelmed. In fact, I think he was surprised by my reaction and not sure how to take it. I wasn't jumping up and down with excitement. I was sort of dumb-founded.

That's mainly because I don't feel like the past few years has been easy for him, in terms of living with me. That's not to say my husband doesn't have his moments of grumpiness or stubbornness. But, the past year I have found my mood swings to be extreme. My health problems have brought on some depression that I've refused to acknowledge or admit to, and I realize that now. I don't always appreciate my family in the way that I should. When I am stressed, I push people away most often. That is when I want to be alone most of all.

Being told you have a disease that you will have to take medication for all your life and you will have to change your lifestyle completely is something that I cannot explain to you. The optimist in me (there is one in there, I promise) tried to make light of it and tried to think about how much harder it would be had I been put on insulin. But, repressed deep down I was mad at the world. It wasn't fair that I had to watch every piece of food in my mouth and being 20 pounds overweight was very dangerous when there were people who were hundreds of pound overweight with no problems. And, then there was the thinking about my kids and whether or not they will get this too, and that's the most difficult thing to mention at all.

So, I don't think my husband always understood why I was moody or what exactly was wrong, because honestly I have not fully understood it either. I am lucky enough to have a spouse who likes to show physical affection and, yet, I am the one who seems to push that away when I am down or stressed out.

So, as I sat in our beautiful room the first night of our weekend getaway, I shook my head and repeatedly said I did not deserve this gift and I would never be able to thank him enough for giving it to me. But, then I realized that I had to let that go. I had to enjoy this time and use it to make things better for us. I had to try to do the right thing for us and let go of my own self-doubt and insecurities.

And, so I did. What resulted was the rekindling of everything between us in only a matter of days. I give my husband credit for making it happen, but I also allowed myself to be open to it. And, what hit me so deeply in the midst of this romantic trip was that, no matter where our disconnects may be or how deep our problems are, I will never in my life find anyone who loves me as much as my husband does. Never. He truly wants my every happiness and wants to be the one to be there for me always.

So, to my husband who gave me the gift of realizing I had unconditional love, I leave you with this song that was sung at our wedding. It was an older song even back then, but the words just spoke to me as a new bride. And, now I realize, that I must have forgotten since then how true these words really are. Thank you, DaddyCat, for everything. I love you always!

Nobody Loves Me Like You Do
Like a candle burning bright
Love is glowing in your eyes
A flame to light our way
That burns brighter everyday
Now I have you
Nobody loves me like you do

Like a leaf upon the wind
I could find no place to land
I dreamed the hours away
And wondered everyday
Do dreams come true
Nobody loves me like you do

What if I'd never met you
Where would I be right now
Funny how life just falls in place somehow
You've touched my heart in places
That I never even knew
Nobody loves me like you do

I was words without a tune
I was a song still unsung
A poem with no rhyme
A dancer out of time
But now there's you
And nobody loves me like you do

What if I'd never met you
Where would I be right now
Funny how life just falls in place somehow
You've touched my heart in places
That I never even knew
Nobody loves me
Nobody loves me
Nobody loves me like you do
Nobody loves me like you do

Finding Serenity...

If it is possible to have a whirlwind romance, when you've been married for 14 years and have known each other for total of 17 years, then I think I just had one last weekend. And, while it was amazing beyond words, I have found myself having trouble knowing where to start to tell you about it.

If you read here before, you know that my husband surprised me last week on our 14th wedding anniversary with flowers and a card promising a mystery weekend date without the kids somewhere special--no questions asked. If you know me at all, you'll know how hard that last part was for me, but I tried not to force it out of him until we got into the car. Then, we played a quick guessing game with a Texas roadmap and I got him to fess up.

My husband had gone online and looked up tons of bed and breakfast retreats in the Texas Hill Country and decided up on this incredible gem. To say he picked well would be an understatment.

After driving up winding hills to what seemed like the middle of nowhere, we pulled up to see this spectacular place called Serenity Farmhouse.

The place looked almost like a quaint little movie set, plopped down in the middle of the rugged Hill country. On just the drive up the path to the bed and breakfast, we saw a couple of deer, a jackrabbit, and the owner's goats and pigs. Later, we'd discover she had donkeys, four cats, several dogs, and a few friendly roadrunners skittering about this amazing place.

Our room was lovely. You can see more photos here. Every detail seemed to have been thought out by the owner, from the heart-shaped tub, to the antiques and the cheery colors in the room.

As the weekend went by, I discovered that my husband had a lot of surprises up his sleeve. I felt so unworthy of it all at first, letting guilt take over for not doing as much for our anniversary. But, then I decided to let that all go and just relax and enjoy all the wonderful things he'd planned out. We arrived by nightfall and just relaxed and enjoyed the incredibly romantic room and its' heart-shaped tub(hubba, hubba!).

The first morning we were greeted by a wonderful French breakfast brought to our balcony door. Then, we went on a tour of a local winery, followed by a trip into downtown Wimberley where there are tons of antique and gift shops. After a quick lunch at one of these businesses, we drove to a huge outlet mall and did some shopping. The day was capped off by a quick jaunt to my beloved Austin, where we ate at our favorite romantic restaurant from our days living there many years ago. (To my Austin friends, had we had more time I most definitely would have called, but we were literally there for dinner and drove immediately back.)

And, then, there was even more, if you can believe it. That evening, we had a special couples massage followed by chocolate decadence with dessert brought to our room with champagne.

It was my husband's first massage and I think he's now a believer. It was truly wonderful.

The next morning we woke up and enjoyed another wonderful breakfast delivered to our door and explored a little around the grounds. (Again, check the pictures out here.)By the time it was time to head home we were both thoroughly exhausted, but quite happy with our little getaway.

If you are looking for a very romantic getaway for you and your significant other, I highly recommend this bed and breakfast. The price was incredible, compared to other places in the same area and of the same size. The owner really goes out of her way to make your stay special. And, we definitely plan to go back again. If you end up checking it out, let me know what you think!



Tomorrow, I will try to write more about the emotional journey this short trip was for me and for my husband. That was the best part about the whole trip, even better than the gorgeous scenery. Stay tuned for more...

Updates soon...

I owe you all an update on my fantasy/romantic anniversary weekend. I'm back and it was wonderful and I have so much to tell about this incredible place we went. But, right now, I'm trying to get my brain around some deeper things that happened to me emotionally with this trip. Hopefully, I'll be able to write about that as well soon.

That, and my youngest starts Mother's Day Out tomorrow for the first time ever and I have parent meeting tonight at my 1st grader's school to discuss the "curriculum" and the "expectations" of my son this year. Our school was rated Exemplarary again for about the 4th year running and that expectation may be quite high.

So, hold tight and stop back by soon. I hope to have something more juicy for you to chew on tonight or tomorrow!

Hop on the bus, Gus...

Yesterday was the day in my house, for which we have been counting down for almost a month now. It was the first day of First grade for my first child! We have had a summer of trips to the pool and swimming lessons, he learned to play with his little sister and participated in sibling squabbles, played with friends all over our neighborhood, and had a great 7th birthday. And, from about two weeks ago on, were bored out of our minds and ready for school more than anything.

I had some time to reflect about putting my son on the bus this year. Last year, I expected to feel very emotional, sending my darling one off to Kindergarten. I was surprised in that I was emotional, but I did just fine. He'd been in a Bridge/Pre-K class the year before, going every day to school. He was almost a year older than most of his classmates due to a late summer birthday. And, he had a lot of friends on his bus already. It all came quite natural for us...

I had a sense that this year wouldn't be the same. I actually started feeling emotional about my son going back to school several weeks before it even began. I think it is because this year, I knew how much he was going to be gone. I remembered how little time there is in a day to squeeze in all you want to do with them between 4 and 8 p.m. after school. And, I knew how much he was going to mature and change, based on how much he did last year. So, I didn't want to let him go this year, much more than last. And, I wonder--does it get this way more and more every year?

So, yesterday morning we were ready very early. My son was dancing around the house giddy and nervous for his first day as my husband and I tried to keep him calm. He tried to head to the bus stop a full 20 minutes ahead of time because he was ready and we told him to wait.

(OK, cue the somber and beautiful music of a mother's heartache at a son who is growing up way too fast...)

About 10 minutes before our bus was to arrive, we decided to go to the front door and take our traditional first day pictures and start the walk a block down the road to the bus stop. My son was beaming. My daughter was excited to go see the school bus. I was already feeling the lump in my throat as I clutched my digital camera like it was my security blanket.

(SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH! Oh, that's the scratch of the needle on the record player playing that somber music for our walk.)

"The bus is already here and LEAVING!" My husband said in a panicked tone.

"Oh, no! RUN!" We both shouted at my son.

And, with that, there went all my plans for the heartwarming send off to his second year of elementary school. There was no time for goodbye hugs and kisses and "I know you'll have fun" whispers in his ear. There was only time to help him jog to the bus and wave my arms so the bus driver knew we were coming, all the while feeling the amused looks of the more snotty neighbors standing there looking on. Of course, we completely looked like we had woken up late and were unprepared for the first day of school, even though that was very far from the truth.

Every year, our bus shows up 10 to 15 minutes late on the first day, sometimes even later. Yesterday, it was 10 minutes early. Nice!

As my son climbed on the bus, and I was trying to recompose myself from the dead sprint, I looked up to find that--either out of habit or nervousness--he'd sat down in the first row of seats. The "kindergarteners" row--where he sat last year. And all the rest of his friends/classmates were sitting in the middle or to the back of the bus. Social suicide...he had just committed social suicide! Oh nooooooo....

So, I spent most of my day agonizing that our start to the morning was some sort of sign of how the rest of his first day might go, allowing it to consume entirely too much of my mind. But, as it turned out, his day went just fine. The only complaint was that this year, unlike last year, his teacher didn't give them M&Ms as a treat to welcome them to school. (Oh, the hardships a first grader must endure!) And, instead of the back-to-school picture on our front porch, I got this one of him coming off the bus. Yes, the sun was shining in his eyes, but I'll take what I can get I suppose.

Why does being a parent mean that your heart has to ache in a million different ways over the smallest milestone in your child's life? Even when it is a happy milestone, like no longer being the youngest kid in school, it feels like your chest might burst from the anxiety of it all.

And we only have how many more months until summer vacation again? Maybe I should start the countdown now...

MomCat 0, DaddyCat 100,000,000,000,000,000...

Remember this post a few days back where I questioned what on earth to get my husband for our 14th wedding anniversary?

Looks like I should have taken some of your great suggestions or at least shot for something bigger than the too-embarrassing-to-mention, semi gag-gift to spice up your love life thing that I got him. (That sounds way nastier than it was actually, but I'll leave you to wonder, 'cause I'm kind of devilish like that.)

Today, was pleasant enough. I forced my sleepy body out of the bed while my husband was in the shower to make a quick batch of Pillsbury Orange Rolls to surprise him. You know, because nothing really says I love you liked processed crap in a can with fake orange flavoring and sugar on it in the morning. Right?

He actually did appreciate it and headed to work. The plan was for us to meet for dinner at a Japanese steakhouse with the kids. It is the night before the first day of school, and we decided in advance that we'd wait to have a real anniversary date until this weekend when there's more time.

Dinner was great and we came home. That's when he walks in with an arm full of gorgeous multicolored roses and a card. Nice touch, I thought to myself. Bonus points for you, DaddyCat.

Then, I open the card. And, that's when my body morphed into its true being, that of a gigantic asshole perched on a barstool in my kitchen.

Why did I morph into a butt particle, you might ask?

Well, that would be because my husband wrote me the most wonderfully sincere poem (the man usually has trouble writing even thank you notes) AND then informed me in the card that I was to have my bags packed Friday afternoon for a 2-day mystery date without the kids. No questions asked, just be ready to go and spend time just being a couple again and leave the worries and the rugrats behind.

Speaking of behinds, did I mention that I'm an enormous one?

This is about the time when I started stammering and muttering something about not being ready with his anniversary gift because I thought it was this weekend and well I did get something but it was kind of a joke and uh...oh, excuse me but I think my entire head just turned into a giant anus.

So, half-laughing, I give him the lamest of lame gift from me, and tell him the rest of it is coming this weekend. Then, he outdoes himself by telling me to get nothing else, that this surprise trip is as much for him as it is for me and he doesn't want anything.

Homeboy is going to get a damn good Christmas present this year, that's all I can say!

Daddycat, if you read this, just know that even if your mystery date surprise is a trip to the Sonic a mile down the road, I will still be in heaven because you took such time to plan this out and do something special for me. I love you, and I'll try to morph back out of my buttlike state before our trip. Because, unless you've got a J-Lo attached to the top of that gigantic arse, it's not a very romantic thing to kiss and hug on, now is it?

And the Grammy goes to...

In the category of:

"Best Alteration and Collaboration of an Early 70s Guitar Hit--
Guaranteed to Incite Unending Seven-Year-Old Giggles," the Grammy goes to:

Crazy MomCat and her son, Wildcat,
for their rendition of the chorus to

Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water!!!

Smoke on your bottom,
Fire in your pants!

Thank YOU to our fans!!! We'll be playing here all week!!!
(thanks to THIS awesome game on loan from my nephew--we SO may not be giving it back ever either...)

Move over, Fran...and bring on the bread and jam!

My son has always loved to read and has a huge bookshelf filled with all kinds of stories. Some are hand-me-down books from his cousins, some have been given to him over the years, and a few were my husband's and mine when we were his age. Somewhere, sandwiched in-between all these books is a small paperback version of one of my favorites: Bread and Jam for Francis by Russell and Lillian Hoban.

The book was actually my husband's, though I remember reading it as a kid too. And, by the yellowed pages and artwork, I suspect it might have been originally belonged to one of his older siblings first actually. I love this story of the little badger who only likes to eat bread and jam and how her clever parents taught her a lesson about having some dining variety by making her eat her favorite food at every meal with nothing else. When I used to read it to my son, I would think to myself how ingenious Francis's mom really was. Make your kid only eat the thing they love and nothing else for days on end and see if it continues to be the only food they want to eat! I've seen this technique used on smokers with great success too. It's brilliant!

If my son had EVER tried the picky-eater thing on me, I was fully prepared to implement the Mother-of-Francis technique. After all, if it worked on stubborn little Francis, who was crack-like addicted to bread and jam, then I'm sure it could work on my son.

But, alas, my son has never been a picky eater at all, so I have never used the method. No, my darling son came out of the womb a "big eater," as we like to call him. As a baby, he would eat so much that I would have to cut him off, because he would continue to eat until he spit up. He has always been very tall, and weighs more than you would think he weighs. But, ironically, he has always looked quite lanky and thin.

To this day, my son remains a pretty good eater. He has picked a few odd things he refuses to eat, like lasagna and hamburgers. It is not uncommon for him to want 2-3 things with breakfast, and I usually only let him have something small with whatever his main breakfast "entree" is. As I'm learning about my health problems and emotional problems with eating, I'm slowly changing what he eats to be healthier foods and hoping that if he continues to have a big appetite that he uses it on fruits and vegetables more.

Now, let's get back to dear little Francis the badger and her obsession with bread and jam. After five years of enjoying a fine-dining son, our house was blessed with a second child. My daughter is truly a joy to behold and people just gravitate to her wherever we go. But, quite frankly, passivity and obedience is not her strong suit. My little girl came out of the birth canal with an opinion and a unyielding spine to back it up.

And, now that her vocabulary has advanced a great deal, we find her opinion comes spewing out quite often at the dinner table. You see, my little "Francis" is much pickier than her brother and way picker than any stubborn badger. If she could eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or a banana at every single meal she would. She has never liked vegetables of any kind. She doesn't like anything with sauce on it either, except for the occasional spaghetti, and even that is hit-or-miss at times.

The child doesn't eat macaroni and cheese, for Pete's sake! What kid doesn't like mac-n-cheese, I ask you? Her intake basically consists of a few fruits, breads, and sometimes meat. Her likes are so random and there is no real pattern. She most often eats a lot early in the day, and by dinner she's not interested in food at all. And, some days, she just doesn't want to eat, period.

Today was a good example. This morning, my husband made her the same bowl of oatmeal that I always make her and a banana. (Surprisingly, she has been able to eat an entire small banana for a very long time now, and I definitely have to ration those out to her.) She ate most of the banana and a bite of oatmeal. At lunch after church, we ordered her a corn dog and fries. (I know, not healthy, but what kids' menu is these days!) She ate a piece of bread before her meal came, and I knew what would happen next. Yep, she snubbed the corn dog and ate a few fries and that was it. Of course, later, she was rewarded with ice cream at her grandmother's house (this was NOT in my presence...grr). For dinner, she drank her milk and ate a few grapes and several mandarin oranges and didn't touch anything else on her plate. She abruptly got out of her chair, decidedly excusing herself to play without as much as a nod goodbye to the rest of us who were still eating.

What she does like to eat, baffles me somewhat too. She can eat a whole banana, but refuses to even taste a strawberry or blueberry. She devours entire hamburger in one setting, but forget about a chicken sandwich. She will eat the Canadian bacon off the top of a pizza and turns her nose up at the rest of it.

But, the worst thing about my daughter's eating habits is that when she decides she will not eat something, there is no forcing her. She will sweetly let you know she is "all done" and walk away leaving you in her dust. And, prepare yourself for a royal tantrum if you even think of making her sit back in her chair or eat more. You cannot try to trick her or bribe her into eating either. No airplanes going into the hanger here, even when she was an infant. And, she will hold out her refusal to eat regardless of threats of timeouts, spankings, no playtime, you name it. She doesn't care. And she will hold out through it all with a devilish-but-adorable smile on her face, all while my son is looking on. In this arena, I can honestly say my two-year-old is actually being a bad influence on my seven-year-old!

I can't help but think my son must be wondering why he didn't pull some of this crap on us long ago. Tonight, I even openly confessed to my husband, "What do we do? I can't make her eat. I don't know what to do anymore." .

And, the stubbornness with food only has me worried about other things that are sure to crop up over the years. If she has us baffled now, what will we be like when she's seven, twelve...or, gasp, sixteen. I shudder to think what might become of us then! Will she walk out the door at seventeen with car keys in hand and inform us that she IS going to party with her friends on the beach whether we like it or not?

So, if I could text little Francis's Mom, you can be assured I would tell her she was a very lucky parent to have a little badger whose mind was swayed by a few days of bread and jam. Because, if Fran ever met my daughter at her school, those badger parents would have been in for a much rougher ride. Wide-grinned and eyes twinkling, my girl would show Francis how to wear her parents down quickly, leaving them feeling like complete and utter failures. And, when she was finished with Fran, that little raccoon would get bread and jam whenever she wanted with no questions asked. And her parents? Why they'd just be throwing their paws up and wondering what to do next...

Random Bits of Goodness All Fried Up in One Pot

Welcome back to the Friday Stir Fry, a little bit of this-and-that floating around in this crazy kitty's brain, all mixed up in my big wok for your reading consumption. There's no MSG though, so enjoy!

• (In my best Chandler Bing of Friends voice) Can making your 7-year-old write his thank you notes for birthday gifts BE any more painful? I've bribed, I've coddled, I've humored, and we're still only able to squeeze out one note a day. And, even with just one note, you'd think I was asking him to clean the grout in our entire house with a toothbrush or something. GAH!



• I can hardly believe the countdown to school starting has now gotten under a week. School shopping is done, backpacks have been bought, and we're working on that early morning schedule the week before so it doesn't bite us in the "tookas" next week. (Read: Momcat and her brood are very tired and grumpy today already.)



• Today was a momentous day. I made a trip to the mall with both my children, even after the early morning wake-up call, and they did NOT totally embarrass me in the stores. Yes, my daughter did run around like a crazy person, but she was not howling like a screaming banshee, so this is progress. And, I didn't even lose her in the clothing racks! Now, THAT'S real progress! Stay tuned--next week, I'll see if I can get her to walk with us, instead of 6 feet in front of us.



• My finish-something-or-go-MAD project list is coming along. I'm about 1/2 way through the second quilt square. I hope to get it done in a week or so, which means I'd start working on the last half of my daughter's holiday stocking by September. If I can't get the thing done by December, I will know there is something seriously wrong with me.



• My thoughts are with a blogger with whom I do not know personally, but whose blog was among my first finds and continues to be one I love to read. Beth at Crazy Us shut down her site suddenly this past week. I keep checking back to see if she's back or if there is word on why she shut her site down. She has had a really difficult summer filled with disappointment and grief. Beth, if by some weird chance you read this, your loyal readers miss you!



• The discussion over at We Three Bitches today is on "toxic friends." Have you had one? Have you been one? I definitely have had my share of them--I tend to attract both the "blow-you-off" kind of friends and have had one or two of the "psycho-Single-White-Female" type of friends. (Thankfully, I've also had some damn good ones mixed in there too!) Anyway, I didn't think that I was toxic, but after reading Painting Chef's description, I have to wonder. She describes a toxic friend as one who forgets friends' birthdays (I try not to, but mommy brain often steps in), who constantly interjects in conversations with their experience on an issue (very guilty of this), and has what they consider to be pretty low maintenance or easy friendships (meaning, it is low maintenance for them but not for others).
  
  Uh oh...that fits me exactly. Should I quarantine myself now?



• Tonight is poker night for DaddyCat and his friends. This translates into an evening for me to either A>watch a chick flick he would refuse to see or B>crop away on my scrapbooks until my poor fingers can crop no more. I saw the second Brigette Jones movie the other night with my Mom, so I plan to do B. And, hey! Maybe that means I can get one more thing crossed off my list!



• Next week, the day before school starts is my 14-year anniversary. Married ladies, is it just me or after about 6-7 years is it damn hard to come up with something to get your spouse? Guys have it easy. They can always get flowers or, on special occasions, jewelry. My husband just wears his wedding band and a watch and he just about died of embarrassment the one year early in our marriage when I sent him balloons and cookies on our anniversary. (Yes, this was a bit much, I realize now.)So, what's left, I ask you? I have one thing small, which is a semi-joke, but I'm looking for some ideas if you have them!



• My daughter is now 28 months old. And her favorite things to say include the following: "No, let ME do it. Let ME do it!" "No, Daddy, it's your fault! You're FIRED!" (I helped teach her that last part, much to my husband's chagrin) and "Let's go to the swimming pool, Mommy." I'm appeasing her on the last one today in one last dip before school starts, but I'll be damned if I let her fire my husband. I'm not equipped for single-parenthood! Thankfully, I read Nicole's tale of living with a crazy toddler, and realized I am not alone in this boat!

That's all for now, but I may throw something into the fry later today if it strikes me. Hope you all have a great weekend!

Nothing really to blah-g...

Typically on this site, I follow the theory of not posting when I really have nothing to say that day. I'll leave something up for even a week or so, until my creative juices get to flowing again and I dazzle you with something brilliant like last last post about my TV addiction. Thrilling, wasn't it? (smirks)

Maybe it is because I'm officially one week away from the start of school for my son and two weeks from the start of Mother's Day Out for my daughter...

Maybe it is because it has been a very long summer with no official vacation and two kids who, despite their 5-year age differences have decided to behave like they are squabbling siblings just a mere year or two apart...

Maybe it is because I feel like if I sit on my couch one more night watching DVR-recorded shows, I will crumble into a million pieces of sand and be mistaken for lint in-between the cushions the next day...

But, I'm in a R-U-T, folks. When I think about my life right now, the word "flah-flah" comes completely to mind. (Yes, I know that is not a real word, but it is my blog and I make words up quite frequently if you haven't noticed.) Basically, I need to shake something up and I need to do it fast.

I had hoped that would be a dramatic weight loss and a new lease on life. But, it ain't happening so far. And, I'm realizing that maybe some of my blah-blah attitude comes from envy too. Both my online and real-life friends have had fantastic summers. Here's just a sampling:

• One is moving to the mountains to start a new chapter in her life.


• Another just got back from a fantastic vacation abroad and may return to study there.


• My closest girlfriend got to spend three full weeks in Hawaii with her family this summer.


• Another good friend has lost 60 pounds through gastric bypass and has also just started back to work after 10 years of being a stay-at-home mom and is kicking ass and taking names.


• Another blogging acquaintance is opening up her own fancy children's clothing shop.


• Another friend spent the summer going to every cool concert in our city, traveling several times and also started back to work in a very exciting and life-saving field.

And, what did I do this summer? Well, uh...we went to the neighborhood pool a lot? I threw my kid a great 7th birthday? I kicked butt on Sudoku puzzles all summer long? Can I get a whoop, whoop?

Could this be a midlife crises come early? I'm not sure. I am not out shopping for sports cars or checking out the UPS man or anything (no worries there, if you're reading DaddyCat..hehehe). But, I feel very "meh" and I'm not sure how to shake out of it. I think it mainly is my nightly routine that is getting to me. And, mainly that's because all my interests that are things I can do at night involve sitting on my arse while I do them.

Does that mean I want to go start an underground hip-hop dance movement on the streets of my Texas suburbia? No. Our streets have had enough scandals lately by way of infidelity and divorce just down the street. No one feels like hipping or hopping here. And, besides, I don't have a hip in my white tushie even if I wanted to dance in such a manner!

So, my apologies for this one and for many that may have made your eyes start to glaze over. I'm sure I will have many a fun and interesting stories once my kids are both in school. Hell, at least I'll have some personal time to get my damn bushy eyebrows done so I can stop walking around looking like Chewbacca's niece or something!

But, until then, I will have to rely on you, my blog commenters and writers of my favorite blogs, to keep me perked up. After all, you guys really don't want me to try the hip hop...I promise, it would be REALLY scary!

Leaving the mark of my behind...on my COUCH!

I have to admit something this evening. I have become addicted to a certain network. Admitting this problem is somewhat embarrassing, as the "cheese" factor in the network I am watching is probably quite high. In addition, my couch potato ways are something that I'm not that proud of, yet they continue to be a part of me. In fact, maybe that's really what I'm admitting to here--a nasty TV affliction. That's a little too hard to really talk about though, so I'll focus on the network for awhile.

I am addicted to "TLC" people. (For those of you who are more into reading books and high-brow blogs, that is The Learning Channel, which is a part of the Discovery network. Many years ago, it started with Trading Spaces. But, I burned out on the designers and format about the time they got rid of the perky cute hostess. And, I left TLC for awhile there, for greener pastures...namely the Food Network.

But, I'm back now, and stronger than ever. It started with my love of What Not to Wear, which I've mentioned here before. The show has brainwashed me into changing how I think about clothes and my appearance. It is frightening that a silly show would occupy my thoughts as much as this one has. But, now I'm branching out, and I think that's what has me worried. Now, I've found shows like "Surviving Motherhood," "Honey, We're Killing the Kids," and "1 Week to Save Your Marriage." And tonight, when I was watching the intro to "Little People, Big World," and I found myself being reeled in, I knew that I was out of control.

It's all too good to be true though, isn't it? On one network, you can redesign your home, your ideals, your marriage, your wardrobe, and your life! Who could ask for more really! Hold on a second while I rub some more salve on my ass where the couch sores have started to form.

This happened to me a few years back, when my husband deemed me the "WB Queen." Yes, I'll admit it, I watched 7th Heaven, Dawson's Creek, and several other WB (read "teen") hits when I was way older than a teen. I blame this all on my father who gave me the "bad tv" gene. The man proudly admitted that his favorite shows included "All in the Family," "Married with Children," and "The Dukes of Hazzard." (Those last two should definitely give you pause.)

I implore you for some help here. How can I break myself of this cycle? My DVR and dish are only making the problem worse, and yet I cannot rid myself of those two things. They have become necessities for me, like the air that I breathe while I'm watching 30 Days. I'd get rid of my cell phone long before I got rid of our DVR. Cheesy, self-help reality TV is my crack, people, and I won't stop this funky train until it derails!

Intervention? Yes, that is another show I've been thinking of watching. Now, what channel does that one come on again?

Wait. Oh, you're talking about having one for ME? Oh....

Well, good luck, my friends. I've got a couple of 30 Minute Meals recorded and waiting for me the cue, so you'd better make it quick. That Rachel Ray is a feisty little cook, and she doesn't like to be kept waiting.

Mastering "Chetiquette"

It is something everyone has to deal with, be it when you're with family, friends or at a work gathering--that dreaded check question. Who pays? Mastering the etiquette of the check, which I like to call "chetiquette," can be a tricky business. Family brawls have broken out over less than this, right?

Arguing about the check at restaurants is a common thing in my family, but not in the way you might expect...we argue over who GETS to pay! My in-laws take it to a new art form, making it a competition for who can pay first. Over the years, there have been a lot of covert operations performed in fine dining establishments across the Lone Star state. Here's just a sampling:

• Handing the waiter your credit card before you've even gotten the food


• Lying to the waiter about why your father or mother should not pay and why you must pay


• Making sneaky "visits" to the bathroom, to actually stop off and pay for the bill instead


• Switching the card before your father or mother sees that they in fact are paying with yours and not theirs.

Because we now live in the same area as my in-laws, most of this has died down, except for the "special occasion" dinners. We eat out several times a month with them, and it's fallen into a predictable and fair cycle of alternating who pays, thankfully.

I will blog soon about our birthday extravaganza for my 7-year-old this weekend. It was quite the party! But, to cap it off, my husband and I planned ahead to take our family to a nearby Mexican restaurant. I made reservations ahead, even, to make sure we'd have a table. My parents were there, as were my father- and mother-in-law, sister-in-law and my nephew, along with our family.

Before the meal was over, my Dad cuts off the waiter and us by insisting he pay for the check. I told him "absolutely not" and said it "was not acceptable" because it was our way of thanking everyone for coming to the party. We'd planned the dinner long in advance, and in my mind it was ours to pay for and nothing could change my mind of that.

My father did not budge and ended up paying, which made my in-laws feel totally uncomfortable and made me embarrassed, to be honest. Have you ever been in this position before?

My husband said we should just let it go, but it continues to nag at me. It was not appropriate for my parents to pay for everyone when it was our gathering and our party. And, some of why this bothers me has to do with the fact that I know some of this came from my parents insecurities about their financial level as compared to my in-laws' as well. That is probably why it bothered me so much.

I suppose this should be a good problem to have. I'd rather have this than the family free-loaders who never pay. So, tell me, what do you do in your family when it comes to the check? What is good "chetiquette" to you? And, lastly, would you have been bothered had you been in my hostess-who-is-not-allowed-to-pay shoes?

Waking up to appreciate the simple truths...

Fitful sleep lately has left me wondering what is going on in that head of mine during REM. Several mornings, I have awoken with clinched fists, nails digging red marks into my sweaty palms. Feeling almost as if I'd been fighting in my sleep, I cannot recall anything about my dreams. It has happened enough times to start to worry me, I'll admit. I don't have any extreme stresses going on to explain it either.

And, then there was the nightmare the other night, that I still can't get out of my head. That will never be erased from my memory, no matter how much I wish it could be.

It was one of those nightmares where when you awake, you know it couldn't be real, but you find yourself needing proof to even be able to catch your breath again. I don't do well when I have bad dreams about my children--not well at all.

When it comes to my mothering skills, I am my own worst critic. If I speak too harshly or shout at one of my children, I will berate myself for days about it, proclaiming to my husband that I am, in fact, "the worst mother in the world." This is not me being a drama queen. No, my family is filled with those. This is truly how I feel when I do anything that could harm the esteem of my kids, even when they've already long forgotten it. I have had a short fuse lately and I know that. And, it is something that has weighed upon me and yet is something I haven't been able to change much as of late, because I am not sure what is going on with me.

So, in my dream, I was a different mother from this. Selfish and careless, I seemed stoned or somehow out-of-it all through the dream. I felt myself in slow motion. I definitely felt drugged or like I was having some health crises that I knew was going on, but could not tell anyone about. And, I could tell by the people around me, that this was my normal behavior to them. That I was not expected to do anything really responsible or right in the world.

I don't remember the whole nightmare, but I remember that towards the end I was trying to drive a truck with my daughter in the carseat in the cab behind me. It was a balmy and humid summer day, much like we have here in Houston, but the scenery looked more like where I grew up. As I was driving, I noticed that I had a sleeping bag around my lower half, and the sleeping bag kept getting caught around my feet and sometimes under the pedals, making my driving scary and erratic. I remember feeling like I might pass out or go to sleep at any moment and not really caring or realizing what might happen if I did. I had several near misses of trees, parked cars and even people and I didn't seem to even flinch at them.

I came to a crowded parking lot area for some sort of restaurant or something very packed with people. I parked along the road, stepping out to go and find my mother and discuss our latest argument. I searched for her for some time and then finally found her, but as I found her it dawned on me (and simultaneously to her) that my daughter was not with me. I had left her in the hot truck, windows rolled up in 100 degree temperatures!

I started trying to run to find my truck, but my legs still were tangled in the sleeping bag. Once I got it off, my legs moved as if they were in taffy. And, everytime I thought I got to the place where I'd parked, the truck was not there. All the while, my mother was shouting, "CALL 911! Call 911! Oh my GOD, what have you DONE to her!"

I debated sharing this on here, because this is a dream I will never forget and it truly horrified me. I see news programs where this happens to people, and I always wondered how in God's name someone could forget their child like that. I should clarify that I have never done this in my life, nor have I ever had this numb feeling I was in all throughout my nightmare.

But, there I was in my dream, stumbling around in a semi-conscious state unable to find my little girl who was suffocating in my car. It was terrifying in my mind even in the dream, but my body would not react. Just before I woke up, I had the sense that she would be gone once we found her and that I would not be able to live with myself if she was.

And, then I woke up--sweating and shaking from the second my eyes opened. I realized it was all a nightmare. I caught my breath and looked at the clock. Ironically, this was a rare morning that both of my kids slept past 8 a.m. Normally, this would send me right back to enjoy an extra few minutes of sleep that I hardly ever get. But, not this morning.

While I felt bad doing it, I had to check my daughter, even though I knew it was just a nightmare. I opened the door and woke her from a deep sleep. I climbed into her new "big girl bed" and laid next to her, watching her eyes flutter awake and then droop back into partial sleep. Tears came to my eyes as I looked at her beautiful little face. Strawberry blonde curls framed her cheeks and her mouth even formed a little smile as she slept. How did God bless me so much to have this amazing creature in my life and to allow me to be her mother?

And, then she opened her eyes and put her hand to my face. "Good morning, Mommy" she said sweetly in her typical morning demeanor. She is always so happy to greet each day. "Good morning, sweet pea." I said. And, then I held her close to me and kissed her a dozen times on her head, thanking God with every kiss that she was fine and safe and here with me.

Sometimes, I think God works in very deliberate ways in our life to make us see things we need to see or change. This last half of summer, I have felt so frazzled. I've woken up feeling angry with those clenched fists, unsure of why I am so mad. And, the feeling keeps bubbling back up inside without warning as I fight to control it and understand why it is there. I have snapped at my husband and kids without warning. I haven't been a very fun person to be around some of the time. Even worse, feeling like I'm on auto-pilot some days, I have not taken the time to appreciate the precious gifts I have in my life or made them feel special. And, this hurts my heart to realize.

But, when I think about the mother that I could be--the mother that I was in my nightmare, I know that I am doing some things right with my children. They know they are loved and my top priority, even if I sometimes lose my temper. Maybe God was trying to make me realized that and go a little easier on myself as a parent. But, most of all, I think God wanted me to not to ever take their little souls for granted. Life moves so fast. Before I know it, they'll be all grown up and living their own lives away from me. How blessed have I been to have this time with them and see them grow and change right before my eyes! Sometimes it takes a really bad nightmare, to make you really see the simple truth staring at you when you are wide awake.
-------------------
The theme at Mama Says Om this week is Simple. Click on over to check out what the other mamas had to say!

Beware:Oils Separate Easily!

Remember when you were a kid and you found interesting ways to entertain yourself at home during those lazy summer days? In the backyard, you'd play for hours making gooey mud pies which you would serve to your dog on a balmy afternoon, pretending to be the ultimate chef? Remember how the mud pies would look when they were not the right consistency? Murky cocoa-like water on top, with the rich brown mud settling down to the bottom of the pan? (Do I need to point out here that I grew up in a small town without a sibling close in age and a LOT of time on my hands?)

Well, my foray into organic foods gave me flashbacks of those muddy dessert creations this week. After reading an article touting that the vegan diet may be most optimal for diabetics and after reading this book, I decided to brave the organic foods aisle. It isn't that this row in my supermarket has not intrigued me previously. It is that I'm damn frightened of it, to be perfectly honest.

Flax seed? Pure-pressed mayonnaise? Stevia-sweetened? Gluten-free? It is like speaking another language to this granddaughter of a rural Texas cattle-rancher. And, I don't know where to begin! I'm trying to cut out artificial sweeteners when I can, so the little packs of Stevia did make it into my cart, to replace my much-loved Spenda. I found some lovely little crackers called Nut Thins which were wonderfully tasty. I say were because I ate them so quickly they were gone before the air reached the crackers. (And, also before my family knew of them, as I kept them well-hidden!)

But, my big purchase was an attempt to replace my dearly beloved jar of crunchy peanut butter. Darling P.B. has gotten me through many a hunger pain. I am an authority in the field of nutty goodness. Peter Pan crunchy is ideal if you need a little sweet fix along with your "sammy." Jiff Extra Crunchy is the cat's meow for the nutty muncher in all of us. Yes, there is nothing that peanut butter cannot fix, in my book. The irony does not escape me in that this chunky nut spread obsession has, in fact, turned me into the quintessential "chunky blonde" as well. I know where my rolls come from, my friends. Spoon by spoon in the roof of my mouth, and straight onward to the love handles.

So, back to those mud pies? Yes, that is what the organic peanut butter resembled when I opened the jar. I noticed a big note on the label that read "Mix well as oils separate easily. Refrigerate upon opening." Well, now, that was an understatement.

So, I diligently mixed and stirred as I meditated my mind into a positive open space ready to find something tasty and better for my arteries. You know how peanut butter so nicely sticks to the roof of your mouth? Well, organic peanut butter does the same. Only, unlike a spoon of P.B., it tastes as if you dove too deep at the beach, ingesting some sludge from the bottom of Galveston bay. N-A-S-T-Y!

So, I told myself that it must be the refrigeration. Just put it in the icebox and try again, MomCat. Your health demands it. Don't judge hastily, now. But, as I went to wash my hands of the oily nut spillage, I found that it did not come off easily. It was as if I'd dipped my palms in shortening! Hmm...if this isn't appealing to eat, perhaps I've found the secret to wrinkle-free skin?

On day two, I decided to dip some whole wheat pretzel sticks into the now-refrigerated butter. It did have a better consistency, I admitted. And, so I dipped.

Nope. More Galveston mouth. Sigh. I don't think I can do this. Full-fat, full-sugar peanut butter is just not something I can replace.

You know, when thinking back to those mud pies, I remember fondly how I'd come to the back door and my mom would insist upon hosing me off on the back porch before I set foot in the house. My kids don't get dirty enough to have mud pie fun usually. But, I think that I should let them dig a little this summer and create. Life is short and there's not enough time to worry about getting dirty.

And, as for the organic peanut butter? I will do everything in my motherly power to ensure that it never, ever touches their innocent lips!

July's Perfect Post from "In the Trenches"

It's "Perfect Post" time again over at Suburban Turmoil and Petroville. Each month, these ladies host the Perfect Post awards for other bloggers to nominate their favorite blog post of the month as a way to thank writers for their great work!

This month, I'm reaching out to a fairly new blog read for me, though she is pretty well-known among the mommy-blogging community. Chris at Notes from the Trenches (formerly The Big Yellow House) wrote what might be the most funny "poop" story that I have ever read. Typically, I don't like reading details childrens' excrement. Actually, it's usually one way to make me click off your blog and go to another. But, this one was absolutely hysterical. And, so, I've delurked myself to Chris's blog long enough to nominate her for the July Perfect Post. So, go on now...go check it out!

And, before I go, I have to also thank the always-entertaining Lisa of Niihaus for nominating me for a Perfect Post this month too! Yippeee! It's my first one--and I'm no longer a Perfect Post virgin. Aww...I feel so grown up now!

Hey, and now that I think about it, my post is about poop too. Hmmm...maybe I've just been missing out all this time I have been blogging. If only I'd known to talk about body functions more, who knows where it might have taken me by now! Thanks, Lisa, and best of luck with your shop opening soon!