Pan Seared Skirt Steak with Chimichurri-ish Sauce and How to clean your grill even if your husband is ungrateful

My barbecue grill is a hot mess.

My husband is hot, and also a mess.
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Yesterday, I spent the entire day cleaning out our piece of crap barbecue grill. It was rusty, and dirty with grayish weathered spots all over it. Grass was literally growing through the rusty holes in the legs, the ones that still exist, that is, because one just dropped the heck off when it realized what a piece of crap it was attached to. The broken grill leg rests on top of a cracked brick (because we wanted to stick with the theme), so that it wouldn't pummel to the ground. The insides of the grill were not much better. They were completely cruddy with coal, and rust, and wood, and whatever the heck else one uses when barbecuing the mess out of food.

I shouldn't have been cleaning that darn thing AT ALL.  I never even wanted that carcinogen black heap of mess. I wanted a lovely GAS grill, which you could turn on and off.  That could easily prepare meals in minutes instead of the hours it takes one to soak coals, heat coals, smoke wood, and all that other ridiculousness. It's a good thing I'm CPR trained (lifeguard training in the 6th grade), because every time we prepare our meals with this grill I have to resuscitate my children, after they black out from starvation because it takes 3 hours to cook a hot dog that is already cooked.

So why did I clean it? Because I love my husband and I know he works hard, and I know he loves that crusty old grill. I wanted it to be nice and clean and pretty for him when our family comes over for dinner next week. So I scoured the surface with too many Brillo pads to count, to remove all the calcium, dirt, and rust. Then I opened it up and literally chiseled away at the muck that had adhered itself to the walls of the grill. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed some more, rinsed it, let it dry, painted it, got a splinter, cut myself, and got eaten alive by mosquitoes.  All for the love of this man.

So, when he got home from work, I told him what I did and he said . . . . . . .

"Oh."

"Well, aren't you going to go outside and look at it?"

"Oh. (there's that word again). Okay. I'll do it when I go outside to set up the batting tee."

"Okay," I said sounding disappointed so that HE WOULD GO LOOK RIGHT NOW. But, he didn't. He just pattered around the house for the next 15 minutes before going outside to set up the batting tee.  And before NOT going to look at the grill.

So, hours later, trying to keep my cool, I suggest that he go and look at the grill AGAIN.  This time he actually goes outside, looks at it, does NOT touch it, does NOT inspect it, does NOT even open it (which was by the way the hardest part of the whole project), comes back in and looks at me with a weak assed half smile and says  . . . .

"Uh, huh."

'Uh, huh' ?  Are you kidding me? "Uh, huh?????? I wasted every free minute that I had today (and those that weren't even free) letting the children tear up the house, neglecting my chores, letting the baby cry longer than necessary, sacrificing my body, my sanity, and my fingernails, and all you have to say is UH HUH?  Well, I've go somethin' for you mister. THE SILENT TREATMENT. 

And so that's where we are.  I've been giving him the silent treatment for the last two days, and the kicker, he doesn't even know it. He may know that I'm pissed, sort of. Cause I have been wearing a bit more attitude lately, but I'm sure he just thinks I''m about to start my period.  And I'm having a hard time being silent, well because I like to talk a lot, and because it's hard to be silent when you need to tell a person stuff.

So now, I'm not sure what to do.  Usually, he is very appreciative, but I fear one of the "little ungratefuls" have gotten to him, and pulled him to their side. But not for long missies.  You're not going to take my only partner in crime. I'm going to fix this problem, and fix it now. I could be mature, and pull him to the side and discuss this issue like an adult, but I think this requires more drastic measures.  So, I think I'll type up my complaint,  get it in black and white, and post it on the Internet. And hit PUBLISH. 

Note: Do not leave any comments other than those that say "HE IS WRONG. YOU ARE RIGHT." I don't want to hear any sad, lame excuses for his behavior!

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How to Clean and Paint Your Crusty Grill

1.   Using Brillo Pads, scour the entire surface of the grill. This should adequately remove all flaky paint and rust.
2.  Allow the grill to dry completely.
3.Using a high heat resistant paint, like Rust--Oleum paint that says it is for barbecue grills, spray the entire grill in slow sweeping motion about 8-12 inches away from the surface.   IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YOU ONLY USE HIGH HEAT TOLERANT PAINT. DO NOT use regular paint, or your grill might explode and then, well, you'll have worse problems on your hands.  The paint costs about $4.00-$5.00 a can.  I used two cans for my large grill, and only applied one coat.  A second coat would be advisable to ensure longer wear.
4. If your grill grates are rusty or just in need of some TLC check out this link for details instructions on how to clean your grates.
http://www.ehow.com/how_5630251_clean-rust-grill-grates.html

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Let me start by saying this recipe would be equally delicious on a grill.  However, my husband still has not looked at the grill grates that I fastidiously cleaned, so we won't be dirtying them up until he falls on his knees and asks for forgiveness.  And to be honest, I think that I prefer my skirt steak prepared this way.  It's fast, easy, and will totally knock your socks off! I served this will steamed broccoli, tomato and cucumber salad, and mashed potatoes with cheese. YUM!

Pan Seared Skirt Steak with Chimichurri-ish Sauce

Ingredients:

2 pounds of skirt steak
Coarse salt and pepper
2 TB plus 1/4 cup olive or canola oil
2 cloves of garlic
1 bunch of flat leaf parsley, stems removed
1 handful of fresh oregano (about 3 TB)
3 TB of red wine vinegar
Pre-heat the oven to 400° F.


Directions:

1.  Allow the meat come to room temperature.
2.  Preheat oven to 400. 
3.  The meat generally comes in large pieces, so you might need to cut it so that is is able to fit into your skillet. Season the meat by sprinkling salt and pepper on both sides.
4.  Using a skillet that can be transferred to the oven, heat 2 TB of oil on high heat. When the pan is extremely hot, but not smoking, add the meat and cook for 1 1/2 minutes per side.
5.  Transfer the skillet to the oven, and cook for another 5 minutes.  Be sure not to overcook the meat because it will turn tough if cooked too long. You want the meat to be medium rare to medium. You can tell this by lightly touching the top of the meat at the end of the cooking time.  It should be firm but slightly soft.  If they are squishy, put them back in the oven for a minute longer.
6. Once the meat is out of the oven, let it rest for 10 minutes under aluminum foil.
(After the meat has rested, cut the meat against the grain, for more tender pieces and serve with the sauce.)
7.  Make the sauce:   In a food processor, place the garlic and pulse until chopped. Add parsley, oregano, vinegar, oil and salt. Continue to pulse until all the herbs are finely chopped.  Serve with meat and vegetables.

Magical Fairy Spotted . . . .

A Magical Fairy visited me today.  She offered to grant me one wish.

I asked for Peace and Quiet.

She changed her mind, and flew away.

Corn and Pea Risotto

Warwick really wants me to give YOU an update on the garden.

He says it's been 5 weeks since I started the garden, and about 6 or so weeks until we begin to pull out plants to make room for the fall garden, so this would be the halfway point if  x+y = z+d - 646.  He's a bit of a braniac.  I nodded off somewhere between 5 weeks and E=mc2 .

Okay, he's probably right, so here goes.  This shouldn't take long, being that I am the laziest person to ever call themselves a gardener, as well as the most delinquent.

This is what my garden looks like today.  Very, very pretty. And slightly crowded.  Because, well, I am too LAZY to plan it out properly.

I still haven't harvested much, because I started so late.  Many of the plants are just starting to bloom. The tomato plants have plenty of flowers and green tomatoes, which should prove to be a bountiful in the coming weeks.

Two days ago, I planted an Eggplant, because it just didn't seem crowded enough. And well, I like the color purple.

Don't mind the weed in the background.

The cucumber plants are growing bezerko crazyheads, because I DID NOT LISTEN TO MY MOTHER AND PLANT DWARF CUCUMBER. And now I'm not sure if the vines are going to strangle my children in their sleep.

Oooooh, oh, oh.  And look at the Okra.

Did you know they are a member of the Hibiscus family. Lovely. But, as far as I can tell the flowers only open early in the morning. By late morning, they are closed.  Kinda like me.  Which is unfortunate, if you have seen what I look like in the morning. 

And I would be remiss, not to mention the squash. Today, I'm picking my very first summer squash, EVER,  IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. 

Look how big and pretty and yellow it is.  Doesn't it just make you smile?

My stevia plant is trippin', but I'll tell you about that another day.

Some flea type bugs were attacking my okra, moving into my tomatoes, and looking very seductively at my arugula.  So I had to zap it with Sevin Spray. My mom said I should have rinsed all the plants off daily with a mixture of water and a little dish soap, to make the leaves slippery so the bugs wouldn't be able to stick to the leaves.  But REMEMBER: I'm lazy.  No can do moms.

Oh, and I had to mulch under the squash, because it rained and rained, and the baby squash started to rot. So. . . . .my mom said to mulch.  Honestly, why doesn't she just come down here and do it for me?  No really, why?

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This recipe reminds me of sunshine and summertime.  The corn and the peas together serve as an excellent source of protein.  You won't even miss the meat. Well, maybe you will. But, you'll still like it.

Corn and Pea Risotto

Ingredients:

3 1/2 cups of Chicken or Vegetable Broth
2 TB of oil
1 onion, chopped
1 cup Arborio Rice
1/2 cup apple juice
2-3 Ears of corn (enough for 1 cup)
1 cup of frozen peas
1/4 cup of grated Parmesan Cheese

Directions:

1. In a medium sized sauce pan, heat broth until a simmer, and keep warm.
2.  In another medium saucepan, add oil and heat on medium-high until warm.  Add onion, and cook until soft, about 5 minutes.
3. Add rice, and cook for another 2 minutes.
4. Add apple juice and cook until absorbed, stirring constantly.
5.  Once the rice has absorbed the apple juice, add 1/2 cup of broth stirring continuously until all the broth has been absorbed.
6. Continue to add remaining broth, 1/2 cup at a time following the directions in step 5 until all the broth has been used and rice is al dente. Be sure to stir continuously, so that your rice is creamy and it does not stick. This should take about 20 minutes.
7. Add the corn and peas and cook 2 minutes or until tender.
8. Finally, add the Parmesan cheese, and season with salt and pepper if desired.

Baby's First Teeth

I Got Two Teefies!

I know, I know.  How could I let that baby cry like that? 

I'm immune to it. No amount of crying can sway me from my mission.  It's one of my super powers.  Sorry Feeb's, I can't help it if natural selection has determined that I have the traits to survive in this dog eat dog world as a super fertile, no nonsense havin' mama. 

Now smile, Nana really wants to see your teeth.

Starbucks Cup Saga: Part 3 -Eclipse of the Jacked Up Straw

The Starbucks Saga continues. . . .

Part 1

Part 2

[ I get to be Bella because, well. . . .this is my blog.  Bella (my daughter) gets to be Edward because, in this instance, she very well could be a tortured soul.  Although, the fact that I could not find a picture of her not smiling, makes me think otherwise.  Soledad, will stand in as dear Jacob because she can have dog werewolf tendencies.] 

Part 3:  Did Bella bite the straw?

Warwick:  Are you sure Bella bit your straw?

Me: Yes.

Warwick: Are you sure it wasn't Soledad?

Me: Yes.

Warwick: Why?

Me: Because, I'm not stupid enough to let Soli drink out of my new cup.

Warwick:  Well, she was sipping on it the whole time you were out on the softball field batting.

Seriously? God of all paraphanelia that is Starbucks, Who the heck bit my straw?

Easy Chocolate Pancakes. . . .that melt in your mouth.

Remember that beautiful lovely tumbler I told you about yesterday? Not so much anymore.


Bella bit the straw and now it looks 'kind of' chewed up. Where it was smooth and green, now it has jacked up white lines in it. And I'm pissed. I'm really not taking this well AT ALL.

Don't even act like you can't see it. You know it's obvious!

The older I get, the more I realize that I have some very juvenile tendencies. For instance, I DO NOT LIKE TO SHARE. PERIOD. I do not like to share food. So get your own. I do not like to share my space, so do not crowd me. And I really, really, do not like to share my most favorite things, so do not bite them and jack them up!!!!!

We were at softball practice (big shock) and she forgot her water bottle. Unfortunately, I had my brand new lovely, shiny, perfect, totally wonderful Starbucks Tumbler filled to the brim with ice and water. Pat on the back for me, because generally I'm in a state of moderate to severe dehydration. WHICH IS WHY I NEED THIS CUP!

"Bella. Didn't I tell you to get your water bottle out of the truck, before we left?" I asked anticipating the answer.

"Yeeeesssss."

"Well, why didn't you?"

"I don't know."

"I know. Because you weren't paying attention. Now, I can't drink MY water, because I have to share it with you. And it's hot outside, and I'm really thirsty. You can have my water, but I am not sitting it on the ground with all your equipment. If you want water, just wave at me, and I'll bring it out to the field."

So that is what we did, in order to keep my tumbler safe. During the majority of practice I kept it secure on my lap, stroking it gently, admiring its beauty. Nothing could harm it, no dirt could contaminate its sheen, and no rock could scratch its luster. So the cup and I sat in the stands, and every so often we would walk over to Bella and offer her a drink.

When practice was over, we gathered up her things and started our walk to the car. I thought we were out of the woods, so I handed her the cup and ordered her to drink up. I chatted a bit with the other mother's, and then jogged ahead to catch up with Warwick because he left earlier.

I heard her take one last slurp, and then she handed 'it' to me. It didn't take long to realize, SHE BIT THE STRAW.

No this child did not just bite the straw on my brand new lovely divine perfectly constructed cup. I never, ever, buy myself anything. And finally I do, and NOT TWO days later it is ruined. I don't even want to look at it anymore. Crazy bite marks all up at the top. Looks like some chinchilla has been chomping all over my tumbler. Oh, sure I could get another one, but that cup cost $12.95. That is A LOT of money for a cup. And anyway, I'm juvenile remember. I want THAT cup. I want THAT straw, but only without the chewy marks. I want my perfect straw I had this morning when I took the picture. I was so happy then. How did this day go so wrong?

"Bella! Did you bite the straw?" I half yelled, half choked.

"Uuuuuuhhhhhhh. No? "

"OH, YES YOU DID! AND NOW YOU'RE LYING ABOUT IT? Get in the car. And DO NOT say another word to me." She was smart enough to do as she was told, and we rode home in silence.

Looking back at the incident now. It does seem rather silly. Especially since, after we got home I retreated to my bedroom, face down in my comforter and moaned for about a half hour.

Right before Bella went to bed, she came into my room and manned up to her offense.

"Mommy. I'm really sorry I bit your straw." She said as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Flashes of light flickered before my eyes. I could see scenes of Bella playing with her sisters and various friends, all different instances where others have broken her very favorite toys. And how did she respond? Always, and I am not kidding, always with the most gracious of "It's okay. I'm not mad."

For the love of God, what is wrong with me? Why have I tortured this child so? Sometimes, I'm not any good at this mommy thing. I could definitely learn a lesson or two from my children. The first being SHARE WILLINGLY AND LOVINGLY and the second, well. . . .Always, forgive.

So you can imagine, feeling like a heap load of crap I said,

"It's okay, Bella. I'm not mad at you. I know you didn't mean it. It's okay, really. I love you."

"Okay," she mumbled as she hugged me tight and walked off to bed.

So now I'm stuck with a straw that has a crazy white mark in it, that I will wear as a badge of shame for not wanting to share, not forgiving fast enough, and for not being understanding when she bit the straw. After all, there was absolutely no way she could have known she was going to screw up my straw if she bit it. And truthfully, if I were to be honest, I had to stop myself a few times, before I chomped on it.

My brain is tired. I think I need some chocolate.

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Easy Chocolate Pancakes

These pancakes are super light and fluffy, with just the right amount of chocolate flavor. They are not super sweet, so if you have a super sweet tooth you'll enjoy a little syrup. Trying adding a really ripe banana for chocolate covered banana pancakes. Mmmmmmmm.

Ingredients:

2 cups Bisquick
1/3 cup cocoa (unsweetened)
1 TB sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1 cup milk
2 eggs
2 TB lemon juice

Directions:

1. In a medium sized bowl mix all dry ingredients until combined.
2. Add milk, eggs, and lemon juice and whisk until moistened. The batter will be slightly lumpy.
3. Heat skillet or griddle on medium heat. When it is hot, pour 1/4 cup of batter into skillet and cook about 1-2 minutes per side, or when edges are dry.
4. Flip and cook until golden, about 1-2 minutes longer.
5. Dust with powdered sugar, and serve with syrup.

Commercialized Fast Food/Coffee Addicted Junkee

I bought this lovely reusable tumbler the other day. It's clear, and beautiful, and very smartly designed. It looks like a real Starbucks cup! Very clever. And the kicker, it's double insulated with a screw top lid. Divine!

I love, love, love this cup.

My husband, does not.

"Nicole, it's like you're drinking out of a permanent styrafoam McDonald's cup, ALL THE TIME. It makes you look like a fast food junkee."

"But I'm not."

"But you look like one."

"So what? I know I'm not. And you know I'm not. So who cares if everyone else thinks I am.  I still won't be."

"Okay, I'll buy you a Burger King cup on my way home from work."

"Really?" smiles eagerly at the mere thought.

Biscuit Topped Vegetable Chicken Stew

Sometimes I wonder if we have too many kids. Not because they’re crazy (which they are), or because they don’t listen (which they don’t). I wonder because, on many days, I’m not sure my heart can stand the strain.

The metaphysical nature of mommyhood is a booch. On the side of concrete realities, you have the basics. You must figure out how to clean, because children are dirty. You must know how to cook, because children need to eat. You must know how to play, and laugh, and joke, because children are clowns. And you must know how to discipline because children are knuckleheads. I knew all of this when I signed up, and so I figured, I would be a good mom.

But, but, BUT. . . .What is not explained in the pamphlet that I was NOT given, is the other side. The side of abstract realities, full of impracticalities, and notions that do not fall into the realm of the clear and obvious. I think perhaps, this whole venture is abstruse.

REALITY: My children like stews and soups. I make a lovely, perfect, sinfully good dinner of Biscuit Topped Vegetable Chicken Stew (see below), just for them.

ABSTRACT REALITY: They like stew, and chicken, and the vegetables that I have included in my stew. Yet, they do not like my stew because A.) They are grumpy, B.) They don’t like papaya (which is not in the stew, by the way), and C.) Because they are knuckleheads as I have stated above.

REALITY: I am a grown woman. I understand that children do not always eat their dinner. I understand that children can be ungrateful and do not make a lick of sense. I make dinner every night, knowing there is a great possibility they will not like it.

ABSTRACT REALITY: I am genuinely SHOCKED, that they did not like my dinner. I am utterly pissed off that they are not eating this perfect meal that I have prepared with them in mind. I am thinking they are ungrateful blood sucking creatures, which would make me love them, then tear my heart out of my body, only to throw it into the stew, so that not even their father could partake in its greatness.

And maybe you understand it, but I don’t. And honestly, I don’t even think I want to. Why? Because tomorrow, I have to do it All. Over. Again. And if I think too hard about it, I might come to my senses and go to McDonalds’s.

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Don’t let my children’s lack of culinary tastes fool you. This stew is ridiculously good. Made slightly sweet by the carrots and sweet potato, the flavors are rounded off by the subtle flavor of the wine. It’s stocked full of veggies, and the biscuit topping uses a combination of whole wheat and white flour. So you’ll feel just as good after eating the stew, as you do during it. Try it, you love it.

Biscuit Topped Vegetable Chicken Stew

Ingredients:

2 TB olive oil
2 stalks of celery, diced
2 carrots, sliced
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 lb. boneless chicken breast tenderloins cut into 3/4 inch pieces
1 tsp. salt
¼ tsp pepper
¼ cup dry wine (I used red because it’s what I had on hand, but white would work well too)
1 quart of chicken broth
1 bay leaf
2 sprigs of thyme
1 sweet potato, peeled and cut into ¾ inch pieces
1 turnip, peeled and cut into ¾ inch pieces
2 TB cornstarch
1 1/3 cup all purpose flour
1/3 cup wheat flour
1 tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. baking soda
2 TB Canola oil
1 cup buttermilk (or 1 c. milk with 1 TB of vinegar or lemon juice added. Allow to sit for 5 minutes)
Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
2. In a large dutch oven, or pot with a lid (that is able to go into the oven), heat oil over medium heat.
3. Add celery, carrots, and onion and cook until softened. About 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute longer.
4. Add chicken, salt, and pepper. Cook until chicken is no longer pink, about 8 minutes.
5. Add wine, and cook for one minute. Next, stir in broth, bay leaf, thyme and remaining vegetables. Bring to boil, and simmer for 20 minutes.
6. To a small bowl add cornstarch. Add 4 TB of cold water and whisk with a fork until combined. Pour into stew, and stir continuously until incorporated.
7. In a medium sized bowl, combine flours, baking powder, baking soda, oil, and buttermilk. Stir until combined, and drop by spoonfuls onto the top of the stew.
8. Transfer pot to over, and cook until biscuits are golden brown, about 20 minutes. Serve.

Usher - Here I Stand

Yesterday was my birthday.

I had dreams of putting my hands in the soil, reading lazily in bed, and scouring garden centers. I was to have a grandiose supper of colorful vegetables sautéed in some type of garlic butter, with a flaky fish on top. I thought I’d go on a walk, or sit outside and watch the children play. Wonderful things, marvelous things. All things that didn’t happen.

Instead, we spent the day at the softball park, filled with whining, complaining, and too many trips to the public restroom.

Not The Day of my birthday, but close enough where it should count.  Incidentally, we were at the same location both days, the softball park.

I thought I was going to tell you how horrible it was. That it was the worst birthday ever. But I can’t. In fact, in my humble opinion, it may have been one of my best birthdays yet.

My 6 year old softball player hit a triple and a double, and said it was all for my birthday. That was a pretty great present.

Later, at outdoor basketball practice, my 9 year old, actually exerted some effort, and did not complain about how hot it was. She smiled and laughed at least 10 times. That was a pretty great present.

My three year old, did not forget my birthday for one minute, and told me so, every other minute. She kissed me juicily on the lips at least 50 times, and offered up every snack she acquired as a birthday present. A little slimy, but still, all very great presents.

My 10 month old baby, did not take a nap the entire day. Yet, she did not complain, and showered me with kisses, hugs, and soliloquies of dada and nigh nigh. Great presents, but maybe next time we can fit in a Mama, eh Phoeb’s?

For dinner we met the softball team at the local Pizza Parlor, where I was serenaded by the most beautiful 6 year old voices, to a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday To You. I ate my very favorite pizza of Canadian bacon and pineapple, with hot wings on the side. My husband even purchased me a piece of triple chocolate cheesecake with chocolate curls on top, for $5.95. I thought he was going to have a heart attack.

When we got home, all the children got ready for bed, and I didn’t have to help. Then, the six of us overloaded on cake and Blue Bell Happy Tracks Ice Cream, before going to bed.

When the day was finally over, I pulled out my laptop to surf and go through emails. I found tons of messages from my friends wishing me a happy birthday. It made me smile. I scrolled all the way down to see who the first well wisher was, and it was my husband, sent at 6:03 am.

The message read “Happy Birthday Honey.”

It was simple, and tender, and completely perfect. 3 little words. A small act that meant more than anything he could have ever bought. I was so touched that he took the time out of our hectic morning to send me that message when he had already told me two or three times in person. When I asked him why, he said “I wanted to be the first one to wish you a Happy Birthday.” It made me cry.

He’s the blessing that I never thought I’d get. And to the Lord I humbly bow my head. Warwick, forever yours, here I stand.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3cnOHdKJM4

Spaghetti with Homemade Marinara Meat Sauce

Today everyone is getting on my nerves, being totally obnoxious and not getting my jokes. Which might mean that I’m not really very funny, which in turn really urks me.

My eldest daughter, Shelbi is trying out for next year’s school play, Alice in Wonderland, and has refused to allow me to help her. She wanted no coaching, no tips, no suggestions, no nothing. I tried to explain to her that Mommy is an excellent actress with a real knack for the dramatic, but she wasn’t trying to hear it.

“Did you know that I went to State in Dramatic Prose?” I said.

“No, but that’s not the same thing. I don’t think you know how to do this.” She spat.

“Well, not that I’m bragging, but when I left the stage, there were NO dry eyes in the room.”

“What are you talking about? Can I go now?”

“What I’m saying is, that everyone was crying, even the judges, because they were so affected by my performance.”

“Well, I don’t want anyone to cry, so I’ll just do this myself”, she said as she walked out the door.

“FINE!” I yelled to no one in particular. On to the next kid.

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“Hey Bella, come here for a second.”

“Yes, mommy?” my sweetness gleamed as she skipped into the room.

“You have a game tonight.”

“Yeh, I know.”

“You guys are going to do great, and have a good time, okay?”

“Okay, but we aren’t going to win.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because, EVERYONE IS BETTER THAN US, THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT IS.”

“How in the world could everyone be better than you? You guys have only lost a few games. You must ALYWAYS think you’re the best! Just because you lose doesn’t mean others are better. You can’t walk into a game thinking you’re going to lose, or you’ll be defeated before you even play the game. Now let’s change that attitude, and get ready to have some fun. So . . . who’s the best?”

“Ummm. . . .I don’t know.”

“Oh, just forget it. Go play with your sister.”

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Warwick *singing and smiling as he moves through the house*

“Guess whose birthday is Sunday? Mommy’s!” he giggles, as he flutters by and kisses me on the cheek.

Moving swiftly into the living room, he encounters a loud SHRIEK.

It’s Soledad laying prostate on the floor, because yesterday her teacher told her that her birthday was coming up soon, and she wants to skip my birthday in favor of celebrating hers instead.

You’ve taken my time, my money, and my lip gloss. Must you also take my birthday?

The baby just bit my face, and some un-named souls didn't get my joke, and think that I'm a Bieberhead. It can only go up from here.
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Let's just start over, and go old school with dinner tonight. Bella could use the carbs for her game, and those other jokers could use a good dose of comfort food.
 
On the menu. . . .
 
Spaghetti with Homemade Marinara Meat Sauce
 
Ingredients:
 
1/4 c. olive oil
4 TB butter
1 large onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
2 28oz cans of crushed tomatoes
Handfull of basil leaves
2 dried bay leaves
4TB sugar (more if you like it sweeter)
salt and pepper to taste
Ground turkey, beef, or shrimp
Whole Wheat Spaghetti Noodles, cooked
Parmesan Cheese, optional

Directions:

1. In a large pot melt oil and butter on medium heat.  Add onion and saute until translucent. About 3 minutes.
2. Add the celery and carrot and cook until soft, about 5 minutes longer.
3. Add garlic and cook for one minute.
4. Add tomatoes, basil, bay leaves, and sugar.  Simmer covered, on low for 1 1/2 hours.
5. Meanwhile, in a skillet brown meat. Drain.
6. Add meat to marinara, and check for seasoning.
7. Serve on top of hot noodles.

Justin Bieber - One Time

In the circles that I run in, the name Justin Bieber has been coming up more and more frequently (probably has something to do with screaming crazy headed nine year old girls).  Who is he? Do you like him? Why is his hair like that? Standard questions that a thirty something might ask about a Teen Pop Idol.

And, I'm not afraid to admit it; I do know who he is, though I do not know why his hair does that.

I will go a step further, and say, I really do think that he can sing.  Although, there is only one song that I really like, of which, I am about to tell you more than you ever really wanted to know.  So come. . .take a walk with me to 2009, when Justin Bieber released his first hit song, One Time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHVhwcOg6y8


Let me start by saying, I do believe this song is a full fledged JAM.  In my world this is determined by turning the radio up,  promptly tuning out my children, and ignoring all flying objects that might have been propelled to catch my attention.  But lately, the more that I hear this song,  the more the lyrics fill my head,  making me think Little Justin needs a lesson on love and relationships, Nicki Woo style.

*Note: For simplicity sake, I have omitted a few lines.  Please forgive me Bieberheads.

So the song starts out like this (my commentary is in red) . . . .

Me, plus you. (I'm a' tell you one time)

Me, plus you
(One time, Im'a tell you one time)
Me, plus you
One time, Im'a tell you one time)
(one time) one time, (One Time) one time


Okay, Justin - maybe your only gonna tell her ONE TIME, but how many times are you going to say "one time." And seriously, that is no way to start out a relationship.  Telling somebody that you can't be bothered to repeat yourself, is definitely going to get you in a boat load of trouble.


When I met you girl my heart went knock knock
Now them butterflies in my stomach won't stop stop

That's sweet, and I'm glad that you are in touch with your feelings at such a young age (He's 16). But sometimes, you might just be hungry.  Have you eaten anything besides rubbish today?


and even though it's a struggle, love is all we got
so we gonna keep keep climbin till the mountain top


Love is tough little grasshopper. It's good that you're learning these lessons early. On another note, glad to see your keeping up with your history lessons in between signing autographs.


your world is my world
And my fight is your fight
my breath is your breath

Hold up there son! Okay the first line, I get. Makes complete sense.  But who in the world is getting into a fight?  And Why?  And even if you are. . . .shouldn't the line read "Your fight is my fight, and your breath is my breath." ?  Not the other way around? You are supposed to be the one that is completely head over heals for her.  YOU are supposed to be completely enamored by HER.  YOU ARE THE BOY, AND YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO CHERISH HER, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!!!!!!

And, just so you know, you might get your little tale kicked if you're bringing your girlfriends around to fight for you.  You might wanna re-think that one.

And your heart  (I've got my)

That is an incomplete thought. Are you so love struck you forgot to finish your sentence?

 Chorus
One love, My one heart, My one life for sure
Let me tell you one time

Now, that's just sweet. Young love can be real love too, I get it.


(girl I love, girl I love you)
Im'a tell you one time
(girl I love, girl I love you)

She's not going to be your girlfriend for long if you only tell her you love her once. I'm just sayin'.


and I'll be your one guy
You'll be my number one girl

Justin, I hope there's not a number two and a number three.  If there's not, you shouldn't have to specify.


Always making time for you
Im'a tell you one time
(girl I love, girl I love you)
Im'a tell you one time
(girl I love, girl I love you)
You look so deep
You no that it humbles me
You're by my side and troubles them don't trouble me

Your grammar is troubling, but I know you're trying to rhyme, so I'll let it pass this time.


Many have called but the chosen is you

This is not the time to be bragging about how cute and wanted you are.  FOCUS!


Whatever you want shorty I'll give it to you
[Chorus Repeated]
Shorty right there
She's got everything I need

You cannot find fulfillment in another person. Everything that you need is inside yourself. That's a sure fire way to watch your relationship go downhill FAST!


And Im'a tell her one time
(One time, one time)
Give you everything you need, down to my last dime

Famous last words. Justin, keep your wallet zipped! If she loves you, you won't have to give her your last dime.  Ever heard of the Law of Attraction?  Let's speak more positively, shall we?


She makes me happy, I know where I'll be
Right by your side cause she is the one
[Chorus]

And those are my two cents, if anyone cares.

Parenthood - Tuesdays 10/9 C on NBC

This is a post to tell you why I am not posting today. . . . errrrr. . . . .ummmmm. . . .just read below.

Last night, I watched Parenthood.  I don't watch a lot of TV, not because I'm opposed, but because I usually fall asleep on the couch by 8:01 pm. Bad habit. Anyway, I really try and make a point to watch this show every week, because 1.) It's hilarious in a dramatic sort of way 2.) They have problems that make mine seem pale in comparison 3.) they have really fantastic set designs.  So fantastic, that everytime I watch, I want to jump right up and start redecorating my house, and planting more plants and doing stuff outside, so that our home can resemble theirs.

Lest I continue to ramble, this is what I am talking about. . . . .

I just really want to live there.

So that is why I am not posting today.  In the five minutes of free time that I have, I will be cleaning the bathrooms, mopping, vacuuming, planting some plants, reorganizing the back yard, and painting some murals.  I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Vegetable Garden Quesadillas

Ruh-Ro.  There is something odd growing from our "watermelon" plant.  It's yellow, and has a longish neck. It kind of looks like yellow squash.  But,  I could be wrong, maybe there is a really yummy, juicy watermelon variety that is yellow and looks like a squash. Right? No? Huh.

I really thought I had mad MacGyver skillz, as I roamed the plant nursery searching for plants that weren't labeled. It was like I was a botonist in training, and could identify plant species just by a mere glance. Maybe not.  Sorry kids.

Oh well, Yellow Squash for everyone!  The children are looking at me with frowns on their faces, whilst tapping their toes on the tile floor. They are not amused.

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Well, let's get hoppin' trying to find recipes for all this squash we are about to have. We'll try Quesadillas.  Everything taste better with cheese.

*The key to getting my kids to eat these, is roasting the vegetables. It makes for a more tender sweet veggie, that easily combines with the cheese to make delectable dinner.

Vegetable Garden Quesadillas

Ingredients:

1 red bell pepper, chopped
2 zucchini, chopped
2 yellow summer squash, chopped
1 cup mushrooms, chopped
Olive oil
6 whole wheat tortillas (whole wheat)
2 cups reduced fat shredded cheese 
Salt and pepper

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Drizzle vegetables with olive oil, and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Toss to distribute oil and seasoning.
2. Spread veggies onto a baking sheet in a single layer.
3. Roast in oven for approximately 30 minutes, or until vegetables begin to turn slightly golden and are tender.
4. Coat a medium sized skillet with cooking spray, and place one tortilla inside. Spread a thin  layer of cheese over the tortilla, and cover with a single layer of vegetables.  Spread another thin layer of cheese over the vegetables, and top with the second tortilla.
5.Cook on medium high until golden. About 2 minutes per side. Remove from skillet and allow to cool for 5 minutes.  Cut each quesadilla into 6 triangles with a pizza cutter.

Happy Mother's Day!

What My Mother's Day Presents Say About Me. . . . . .

That I am a hairy vampire loving cook, who drinks tea while crafting, and would rather die, than not eat chocolate.  Gosh, I'm getting all choked up.  They know me so well. 

. . . . . . .and love me so much.

The Perfect Cupcake

Six years ago, from this very year
A child was born with a heart most dear.
She leapt into this world, with a ball in her hand
And a pinky little face, saying “Catch me if you can!”
We ran and ran, as fast as we could,
But her little legs carried her faster than ours would.
She turned her head and squealed in delight,
And before we knew it, she had run out of sight.
Everywhere we looked, but nowhere was she found,
Though her voice could be heard in the space all around.
There were burps, and chuckles, and silly little teases,
There were songs, and lullabies, and sweet little secrets.
And a very warm feeling that came from within,
Almost as if. . . . she had Jumped. Right. In.
“Bella darling, Have you climbed in my heart?”
“Yes mommy loves, so we’ll never be apart!”
Daddy tried to pull her out, but her love was much too strong,
“Daddy sweetie dear, your heart’s where I belong.”
“Bells beloved, in my heart you’ll stay,
But seriously now, you must come out and play!
There are books to be read, and pools to swim,
There are candies to be eaten, and games to win.
If only you’ll come out and live with us here,
I promise, our hearts remain open for you there.
So out she came, with her golden brown skin
And she danced and played again and again.
Her ponytails bounced as her tutu whirled about,
She ate tomatoes from her garden, as juice dripped from her mouth.
She painted pictures of animals in orange and pink,
And kissed her sisters so sweetly on the cheek.
She fills this world with a bounty of love,
Me thinks she’s an angel sent from above.

Happy 6th Birthday Bella Rose!

XOXO Mommy and Daddy

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Bella Bell loves this cupcake, and she is a bit of a foodie! This recipe is from scratch, and a little more time consuming than a box cake. But if you have the time, it is definitely worth the extra effort. It won’t let you down. I’m not bragging, but it’s my father-in-laws favorite cupcake too!

This recipe makes 12 cupcakes. Usually, I double it, because they go fast!

The Perfect Cupcake

Ingredients:

1 ½ sticks of unsalted butter, room temperature
1 c. sugar
1 ½ c. cake flour
1 ½ tsp salt
½ c. milk
¾ tsp vanilla extract
3 large eggs, room temperature, separated
Pre-made frosting, your choice
Sprinkles, optional

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line your muffin pan with cupcake liners.

2. In an extra large bowl, combine butter and sugar on low speed until incorporated. Turn mixer dial up to medium high speed, and mix until light and fluffy, about 8 minutes. Making sure to scrape the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula, ever few minutes.

3. Next, in a large bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

4. In a medium bowl, whisk together milk and vanilla.

5. In the extra large bowl, with the creamed butter, add the egg yolks one at a time. Make sure each one is fully incorporated before adding the next.

6. Using the mixer on the low speed, add the flour in 3 additions, and the milk in 2 additions, to the creamed butter. Be sure to wait until each is fully incorporated before you add the next. Turn the mixer dial to medium, and mix until batter is smooth.

7. In a clean, medium sized bowl, add egg whites. Beat on high speed until stiff peaks are formed. Working in 3 batches, add whites to the batter, by folding them in.

8. Pour cupcake batter evenly into muffin pan fitted with cupcake liners. Bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown and toothpick inserted in the center of the cupcake comes out clean.

9. Remove from oven, and cool completely.

10. Using a knife, spread frosting on the tops of the cupcakes, and sprinkle with sprinkles!

Oh the Memories. . . . .

My sister sent me an email with this cute scrunchy faced baby in it.


Me: Who is that?

Her: Your third child!!!!

Me: Oh. She sure has changed.

Pineapple Sage Smoothie and Open Faced Grilled Cheese Sandwich w/ Arugula and Tomato

 The Early Fruits of My Labor

I’m just trying to look on the bright side.

Yesterday, 5:55 am.

I sit on the computer mesmerized by the glow. Quiet house. Mind blossoms. Upstairs alarm clock rings. Light bulb in mind goes off. Oh, shoot. I forgot to wash Shelbi’s laundry. Hop up, toe gets stuck in chair cover, I go crashing head first onto the floor. Sigh. Look up. Darling daughter Shelbi looking down on me. Pitiful, pitiful sight. Are you okay, Mommy? Here let me help you up. I quickly wash 1 pair of pants, and one shirt. Decide to wash the rest later.

Fruit of my labor: She’ll watch after me when I’m old.

Today, 5:56 am.

I sit on the computer mesmerized by the glow. Quiet house. Mind sort of blossoming. Upstairs alarm clock rings. Eldest child walks down the stairs and into the study. “Mommy, did you wash my clothes?” Frig-it! “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry Shelbi.” “That’s okay,” she says sincerely, “I’ll do it.”

Fruits of my labor: One child knows how to wash clothes, and does not seem to mind if her mother is doing a half assed job.

Today, 7:52 am.

Notice bright shiny book lying on counter. Realize bright shiny book should be in 5 year old's book bag. Remembering last time bright shiny book went missing we had to pay $9. Realizing I will need to cram another errand into the 4 minute time slot I have allotted.

Fruits of my labor: Child #2 can read. Parent #1 and Parent #2 can scrounge together 9 bucks from the aforementioned kid’s piggy bank without her even knowing it.

Today, 8:33 am.

Rushing out the door to go to Pre-K. Baby in the car. Pre-schooler kid uncharacteristically rushing behind me to get in car. Pre-schooler kid also uncharacteristically shuts door to the house. Good job, she never does that. Buckle pre-schooler kid into the seatbelt. Sit in driver’s seat to drive away. Realize keys are in locked house. Realize we are locked out of the house. Baby starts to cry. Mommy starts to tear up. Pre-schooler kid goes to garage refrigerator and gets a cold water and offers it to mommy.

Fruits of my labor: She shut the door, so no mosquitoes got in the house. She offered her mother a drink, albeit water, it showed some real compassion. Husband had previously plugged cell phone into car outlet (premonition I suppose), so I was able to call him to save us, and forgo sitting in my neighbor’s house in an uncomfortable silence.

These fruits are not necessarily the shiniest, and they are definately not bruise free. But they are sweet, and they are plentiful. The best damn fruit I’ve ever had.

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Here are some more fruits of my labor brought to you by my Vegetable Garden. I made these recipes using the Pineapple Sage and the Arugula from my garden. Enjoy!

Pineapple Sage Smoothie


Ingredients:

1/3 cup low fat milk
¾ cup vanilla yogurt
1 banana
1 TB pineapple sage, chopped
1 tsp honey

Directions:

Place ingredients into a blender, and process until smooth. Pour into a glass and serve.

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Open Faced Grilled Cheese Sandwich w/ Arugula and Tomato

Ingredients:

Thick slice of French bread (Focaccia or any hearty bread would work nice also)
1 TB mayonnaise
1 Small Tomato, cut into ¼ inch slices
2 handfuls of arugula, washed and patted dry
1-2 slices of cheese (I used Provolone, but mozarella would also be nice)

Directions:

1. Spread mayonnaise on bread, if desired.
2. Place bread on baking sheet.
3. Layer tomatoes, arugula, and cheese onto bread.
4. Place in broiler on High for 2 minutes or until cheese bubbles and begins to turn golden brown. Serve warm.

Healthy Nachos

I feel fat.  And, I think that I might actually be fat. In any case, I don't want to go swim suit shopping anytime soon, because I just went dress shopping, and the whole experience left me wanting to bludgeon the sales clerk, the inventor of dressing room lighting, and all cottage cheese manufacturers for making something that resembles my thighs.

This torture was necessary because my husband and I were invited to go to a wedding on Saturday. And let's face it; nothing is worse than being a homely schlumpadinka at a wedding when the bride is having her best hair day, EVER.  If I can help it, I'm not going out like that.

Typically, I love, love, love, weddings. But on Saturday, not so much. However, I did go, and I tried not to be too grumpy about it.

We showed up late, but thankfully before the wedding started and early enough to find two seats crammed in the back corner. I was very fidgety because I was sitting under Warwick's armpit, and my dress was cutting off my circulation. I started to get up and readjust, but the music came on and the processional began. Great, I thought. I'm going to pass out from lack of blood flow, but at least my shoulder will smell like Arrid Xtra Dry.

As we sat there, the parents of the bride and groom "processed" in stiffly and zombie like. The flower girls skipped in tossing petals wherever they walked and the ring bearer, cute as a button, did his duty by melting the hearts of all those in attendance. By the time the bride glided in, my arm was growing numb. I lifted it up and tried to prop it up on Warwick's shoulder, but he's quite tall and it felt like I was raising my hand, waiting to be called on. Not good when the preacher is about to ask if anyone here objects to this marriage. I pulled my arm down and tried to rest it on the back of his chair, but again his large girth made it impossible, and my arm kept falling off and dangling like a limb that has been partially severed. Just as the wedding couple was starting their vows, I found an open spot on the back of Warwick's seat to rest my arm.

Without saying a word, he snaked his arm around his lower back, and grabbed my hand and held it softly. He turned his head, looked me in the eyes, and I knew.   All those vows that they were saying on the altar, he was saying to me with his heart.  It was just a look, in a stolen moment, but it meant the world to me. I loved you then, I love you now, I'll love you forever, his heart whispered. I'll never love anyone but you, my heart sang back. And so we sat there, for the next 20 minutes, at quite possibly the best wedding I have ever been to, besides my own.
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In honor of people in love everywhere, grab a nacho and we'll toast to love, flat butts, and cheesy thighs.  We'll love ourselves just as we are, but aspire to even healthier and stronger bodies. We'll eat, play, and love in the most divine of ways.  The spicier the better!

Healthy Nachos

These nachos are made with homemade baked tortilla chips that are very low in fat.  Combined with reduced fat toppings, you can eat these without feeling guilty.

Ingredients:

Package of white corn tortillas
Kosher salt to taste
Cooking Spray
extra lean ground beef or turkey, cooked
salsa
fat free canned refried beans, warmed
shredded lettuce
diced tomatoes
reduced fat shredded cheese
fat free sour cream
guacamole, optional
Diced onions, optional
Diced chilies, optional


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Spray each side of your corn tortillas with cooking spray.
3. Cut each tortilla in half, and then each half in thirds, so that every tortilla makes six triangles.
4. Place on a baking sheet, and sprinkle with salt. Bake until golden brown and crispy, about 13 minutes. Let cool a few minutes.

5. Place tortillas on plate and top with lettuce, beans, meat, cheese, salsa, sour cream, and any additional toppings you might like. Serve immediately.


You can bake a bunch of chips in advance. They stay fresh for about 1-2 weeks if stored in a sealed container.