Nothing Good Comes After "Cowabunga"

There are a lot of things a child can say that sends a chill through a parent's bones:  the wordless shriek that indicates a night terror, a scream of "HELP" following a thud, or even a whispered "Mommy" in the middle of the night when you open your eyes and their nose is two inches from your own.  Today I heard the scariest word so far- COWABUNGA!!  You know deep in your soul that nothing good is about to happen and that you cannot reach them fast enough to stop it.  It's the child equivalent of "hold my beer".  Here are some things you can do before responding to that terrifying call.

1.  Thank God for this opportunity to practice patience.  Delicately remind Him that you've been practicing that a lot and would like to be done with it.  K?  Thanks!  Amen.

2.  Finally remember to write "first aid kit" on the Target list.

3.  Pour the last of the Prosecco in the orange juice you poured three hours ago and still haven't finished.  It's 11, that's brunchtime,.

4.  Decide to introduce child to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

5.  Remember that one Ninja Turtle used nunchucks and immediately decide against introducing them because what you need is your kid using her jump rope to thrash people with.

Start to head to investigate the situation.  Hear the toilet lid.

6.  Download a meditation app.

7.  Take some deep calming breaths. 

8.  Go ahead and find some paper towels and cleaning supplies.

9.  Remember your pre-child life and sigh.  Remember that you want(ed?) two more kids and laugh maniacally. 

Peek your head around the corner and ask tentatively "Is everything okay in here?"

10.  Try not to cry

(The look she gave me when she told me she wasn't using her listening ears)

Sippy Cups-Are You a Straw Cup?

In my youth, I did some babysitting.  In the course of babysitting at one particular mother's house, I was unloading the dishwasher (because I was the go-above-and-beyond type *pats self on back*).  I went to put away a sippy cup and a mountain of brightly colored, different shaped cups cascaded out of the cabinet.  After several tries at a better way of stacking, I backed across the room, threw the last cup in there, and let loose a clever Rube Goldberg machine to slam the cabinet door closed.  Not quite, but I did toss the cup in and slam the door as quickly as possible and mentally apologized for the mess it was going to make later.  After the mental apology, I kind of judged those cups and that disorganization.  Oh the wisdom of a teenage babysitter!  "I couldn't handle that sort of cup chaos falling all the time!  I'd do something about it!"

What precisely would I have done?  Because on the other side of that cabinet, I would LOVE to know what my grand plan was.  Suffice it to say, sippy cups are slowly taking over my house.  I still can't handle the chaos and the constant falling out of cabinets, but am at a loss to both fix it and to stem the never ending tide of new sippy cups entering the house.  It's like that scene in Harry Potter, where the goblets keep multiplying in Bellatrix's vault each time they touch one, except there is never a cool dragon ride, just lots of cups.

We started with the basic pink, two handled, training cup.  It molded like nothing I've ever seen.  I could not keep it clean.  It would mold in little crevices that I had to use special brushes to get to and even the sanitize cycle on the washer couldn't cut through the fungus.  I still have it.  Why?  I don't know.  Then we went through a trial period of several different types of handled sippy cups because she didn't want to drink out of anything.  I have those cups too.  Still.  Languishing in the cabinet.  Now we are past the handled cups and into the very slick-sided plastic ones.  Soon we will move from that kind that has a spout to the straw kind.  All these cups will take up space in my cabinet theoretically for the next 15 years depending on the age differences of our future hypothetical children.  Well that's a depressing thought.

Here's a more fun thought.  In the course of thinking about all these sippy cups, I have decided that sippy cups could be a personality test, each one has distinctive characteristics.  

The Leaker:  You are so full of life and joy, so full in fact you can't keep that joy in.  It just spills out of you.  Joy everywhere.  This means that people either love you or hate you.  Some people just rub that joy on their face and through their hair like it's a deep conditioner.  Other people look at you and say "you are a hot mess of emotions" and put you in the back of the proverbial cabinet.

The Handled Cup:  Who can use a cup?  You can!  You can!  Cup!  Cup!  Cup!  You are a never tiring cheerleader.  You cheer, you help, you eeeeease people out of the old into the new.  You meet people at their level and take them to a new one.  But then they leave.  And you're okay.  Okay-ish.  You just want to be LOVED okay???  You are a freakin' Giving Tree of love and devotion and help and then people just move on to newer flashier cups leaving you to pick up and...wait...is that a new baby?  Who can use a cup?  You can!  You can!

The No-Handled Cup:  Yep, don't mean to brag, but you have arrived.  Look at all these freshmen.  You're big man on campus.  You know what's what and you don't mind to shove a few smaller people out of the way to get it.  You just got your first credit card and you are using it!  Why have one outfit when you can have every color, every Disney character, and even monogrammed.  Go big or go home.

The Perfect Cup:  You are part of a couple.  It's the two of you all the time.  When you go to sleep, you're clutched in their arms.  When they wake up, you are the first thing they want.  You go everywhere together.  Everywhere!  Do NOT possibly forget to take you somewhere!  Fury will rain down upon your head!  Other people might say this is unhealthy, but you don't care.  You're world is completely taken up by your one person, the rest fades to black...until a new cup comes to the cabinet.  Dun dun dun!

Straw Cup:  There are a lot of words that could describe you, we'll call you a mother lovin' bad bottom.  Oh yeah.  You are a world traveler-the park, church, the children's museum, what what!  You are independent.  You love new things and aren't afraid to give them a try.  Coconut juice anyone?  The world is your oyster and you are going to put your sticky hands on all of it!

The Glass:  You are the black tie, pearl draped, only eat things with five adjectives person.  You are delicate.  You are what everyone aspires to be.  No one can touch you.  Look down to those lower shelves and judge all the plastic flotsam you see!  Bwhaha!

So, be honest, who are you?

My Shadow

This is my shadow:

She has been sooooo clingy lately.  This was an okay day because she wasn't screaming which is often the case when I put her down these days.  Probably the biggest part of the problem is some severe separation anxiety that is going on.  She doesn't want to be left alone and she knows the best way to possibly avoid that is wrap herself around me like an octopus and scream bloody murder if I so much as lean down.

Yesterday I was so busy.  My list was long and my house was a disaster zone.  I needed her to chill by herself in the play yard or walker or in the floor with her toys-there are so many fun options!  No dice.  In this picture I was trying to strip the bed.  I made a pile of pillows to jump on in hopes of two minutes to get the sheets off.  As you see, the pillows weren't as great as hanging on mom's leg like Spanish moss on a tree.  Heavy moss.  Wriggly moss.  You know what, this metaphor is falling apart.  Hanging on like a 16lb nearly toddler.

I started to get frustrated.  It was just a few minutes and she was in the same room with me!  Why was she being all over me?!  Then it hit me, this is the joy, this is the best portion.  I have always empathized with Martha in the Bible who was running around trying to prepare things when Jesus and His disciples came to visit.  I would have been right there and honestly, I would probably been fussing to Martha about Mary not helping.  I have experienced this in my spiritual life of striving and missing just being in the presence of and having an intimate relationship with God, but I think I'm at risk for it at home too.  There are so many tasks that call for my time and attention that I can easily miss the reason I'm there.  I chose to stay home with Cordie to BE with Cordie.

This time is going so quickly.  Next month she turns one.  In a very short time, not only will she not be hanging on me, but she'll be too busy to play with me.  There will be years and years where I can do laundry without any interruption and all I'll have to show for it is clean sheets.  So we went outside and played with water and sang and swang, because I can have a clean house later, but I can only have this for a little while.  I was so grateful that God reminded me of that.   

French Kids Eat Everything

In June Cordie had three weeks of sickness, a cold and two viruses.  Because her throat was sore she couldn't eat a lot and feeding was difficult.  After she got well she had developed some very picky attitudes about food.  Bananas, sweet potatoes, and Cheerios-that was the list of acceptable foods on her new "menu".  Big sigh.  Oh goody.  So I borrowed the book French Kids Eat Everything.  I wasn't expecting much, but I needed some practical advice and I was very pleasantly surprised!

The book details the journey of the author, Karen Le Billon, family's one year in France and how she used that time to break old habits and instill a new love of food in her two girls.  The books is focused around ten food rules that define the French way of eating.

Some rules I recognized from my own childhood like #6 "You don't have to LIKE it, but you do have to TASTE it".  Some were fairly revolutionary to the way I think about feeding kids, like #7 "No snacking".  Some of the things that weren't rules made the biggest impact on me.  For instance, research that Le Billon cited said that children need to try foods an average of seven times before they really form an opinion on them, and some kids need to try them 10-15 times.  Cordie didn't like peaches.  Of all things, peaches?  Peaches are great!  After maybe two or three tries, I gave up on them even though I had a huge bag of frozen cubes ready to feed her.  After reading that I tried peaches again-same reaction.  And again-hostile, but better.  And again-success!  Cordie eats peaches now!  There's no fight or fuss and she especially likes them mixed with yogurt, as much as any other fruit (besides blueberries which are a stand out favorite).

For the last chapter or two Le Billon talks about her family's move back to Canada and how the rules had to be modified some because of the cultural differences.  I really appreciated those pages because I found myself saying "yeah that works where EVERYONE is following these rules, but it won't work here."  The snacking rule was the one I saw the toughest time implementing here.  While I am all for not having to pack Cheerios, puffs, and yogurt melts for every outing, I would hate for Cordie to not have goldfish if the rest of nursery class is.  So the rules can and should be modified to your family and cultural situation.  I like that since I don't feel bad if the rules get broken sometimes!

I can say that the book has changed some things at our house.  I make a point to sit down with Cordie for breakfast and lunch (rule #4).  She already ate with us at supper already.  This way we are eating as a family for each meal (albeit without Josh).  It also serves to get her more diversity in her food while I act as example.  So if I'm having cheese on a sandwich, she gets cheese and some bread and I'm yum and ooh over how good it is and how Cordie is eating the same thing as Mommy (rule #3).  I still pack snacks in case of emergency when we go out, but I try not to give them out and we don't snack when we're at home (rule #7).  If Cordie doesn't like something, I put it away, but only temporarily (rule #6).  We will taste the same thing again later that week.  I'm also being more careful about what I eat.  Having her watch me eat makes me more aware of bad food choices that I wouldn't want her to mimic.  Plus I'm looking for things she can eat "just like Mommy" which is always fruits and veggies or yogurts and cheeses.  Sitting down is good for me (and her) because it makes an actual meal, not just picking at whatever catches my eye in the pantry.  

The hardest rules for me to follow are the slow food rule because I have becoming a very fast eater since meeting Josh and the no emotional eating.  Ugh, that one sucks.  I had a quarter of a bag of egg noodles this weekend in one emotional sitting.  I know in my head that is a great rule, but carbs call to me in times of stress or happiness or sadness or celebration or anytime I have an emotion. 

If you made it through this post:  congrats!  I had a lot to say on this subject and it's taken me awhile to even sit down to write this post because I knew it would be long. If you have a picky eater, I definitely suggest giving the book a try.  It may not revolutionize what you're doing, but it's a good, quick read that might give you a helpful hint.

The Anatomy of a Home Visit

All of our home visits have been completed!!!!

We've had four home visits including the first most harrowing one where our home was inspected.  Here's how my mindset changed as the visits went on.

1st Home Visit-This visit was pre-adoption.  It was the most terrifying because it included a tour of our home where any and everything was on display, including closets and cabinets.  I cleaned this place with a toothbrush.  You could have eaten off any surface of my home.  White gloves could have been worn.  I served a lovely coffee cake with variety of drink offerings and perched nervously on the edge of a chair while sweating through my blouse and answering every question that can be asked of another person.  Every person I had ever met and some people I had only met at yard sales were praying for it to go well.  The visit lasted three hours.

2nd Home Visit-This was the first visit after Cordie was brought home.  I've spent the past day enlisting any nearby person to hold the baby so I could clean.  Cordie was one month old and I was in a seemingly permanent bleary-eyed-with-sleep stage.  I wanted the house to look just like it had in our pre-child visit though.  I was going to PROVE that childrearing wasn't affecting my housekeeping!  I think I served something to eat...yep, sausage balls I think.  Only one drink was offered.  I sweated through the first real clothes I had put on in days while trying to make it sound like our baby with acid reflux, colic, sucking problems, and a hatred of sleep wasn't completely draining us all of every drop of energy we had ever had.  My entire Sunday School class and family are praying.  The visit lasted two hours.

3rd Home Visit-Cordie was four months old and sooooo much happier than she had been.  I cleaned with her on  my hip for the day leading up to the visit.  I didn't even clean the stove eyes.  I think I shut the door to the bedroom.  Eh, Cordie was thriving, the house was relatively clean, and I made a peach cobbler.  Where is my cape?  I am clearly superwoman.  I don't sweat through anything while I bragged about how freakin' adorable my kid is.  My family is praying in a casual way if they remember.  The visit lasted an hour.

4th Home Visit-I forget the day the home visit is scheduled for and then promptly freak out because it was mixed up.  Not to fear, I still had enough time to clean.  I decide the social worker won't be showering and I don't have time to clean it, so I pull the curtain close and make a mental note to get to that later in the week.  I don't hide the diapers and wipes.  There's a kid who lives here.  She poops.  I think we all know that.  I don't fix anything to eat.  We all watch the baby play for twenty-five mintues while I curl up on the couch like a contented cat, no sweating or edge sitting involved.

I'm glad the visits are over.  Even with the last one I was still a little anxious about the house being nice enough, but they did get MUCH more relaxed as time went on.  We have our court date later this month and then we will be D-O-N-E with this whole process!!  I've already started asking Josh when we can do it again.

Dear Husband of a SAHM

Dear Husband of a SAHM,

There is bread on the mantlepiece.  That's not a metaphor, though I suppose it could be for the way I feel out of place today.  No, there is literally bread on the mantle.  It's there because when I was unloading the car the baby was screaming like feral hyenas were about to eat her.  This was after the dryer tore up and did I mention the car is making a funny noise?

Did I also mention how glad I am to see you?  It's more than just the fact that I spend my day carrying on a one sided conversation about poop and yummy-in-your-tummy pureed bananas.  It's that you listen and care about the most mundane minutiae.  It's that you are my partner on this voyage and when days have been rough, you help me stay afloat.  I love to hear about your day, even when I struggle to make more than the most basic contribution to the conversation.  Please never stop telling me about the office politics and projects on tap just because I only nod.  My day to day experiences don't give me a parallel.  Well, there are some playground politics I could shock you with.

Mostly I want to say thank you for all you do.  I know there is a lot of stress being the sole financial provided for our little family.  I know it's hard to work all day and come home to a fussy, teething baby and a wife who is wearing a ponytail for 72nd straight hour.  Sometimes I think you must miss the girl who wore shorts to be cute and flirty and applied makeup everyday.  Now I wear them to clean the shower.  Here's a secret, sometimes I miss her too.  Thank you for still seeing me and loving me the same as you did when I was that coiffed, professional girl.

You didn't see, but when you told me that you loved me just now, I was blinking back tears, partly because the beans had just exploded in the previously clean microwave, and partly because I love you so much.  I love how much you love our little one.  It would be easy, and perhaps even justifiable, to come in from a long day eat, watch tv, and leave the baby caring completely up to me.  You don't though.  I so enjoy watching the two of you play.  No one else can make her giggle as loud and long as you can.  You are a great dad and all of us are blessed by your active involvement as a parent.

Thank you for providing me with the opportunity to stay home and the support to not lose my mind doing it.  We talked about this for so long, but I was still sort of amazed when it actually happened.  I suppose I should close this, dear husband, before all this praise goes to your head, but know that we are your biggest cheerleaders and fans.  You may have been in a meeting when she pulled up the first time, but  you being there made it possible for me to be home cheering her on.  I hope her first word is Dada because you deserve it.

Now, if you go get the bread from the mantle, I'll set this supper on the table.

Love,
Harried, but grateful SAHMs

What's the Difference Between Formulas? That You're a Bad Parent.

So I have been wanting to blog again for awhile, but I didn't feel like I could come back from a six month absence and be like "Hi!  I'm here again."  And then I saw this:

and I was like "Oooh yeah I can blog about that."

There have been a lot of attention on breast feeding lately.  I've read maybe a dozen articles about it.  People are so passionate about it on both sides.  The comments on the articles are generally much more balanced than the actual article which is a complete anomaly on the internet.  I personally have gotten only one comment about breast feeding instead of bottle feeding.  I have definitely felt unsaid pressure to defend the fact that I bottle feed Cordie, but if I go around saying "We adopted her" all aggressively every time I get that vibe then I look  like a crazy person.  I look crazy often enough that I don't need to add to it so I just bottle feed on!

However, this pop-up got under my skin.  I was researching the difference between Stage 1 and Stage 2 formulas and happened upon the ForBaby website which had some Q&As about formulas.  I was reading and suddenly the above popped up.  Here's the issue, you know, in case you can't get the galling-ness from reading it, no one should never have certify that they have read a remonstrance from a website before getting information on formula (or anything)!  I don't need the "lecture" telling me that "partial bottle feeding may adversely affect breastfeeding" and that the social implications should be considered before choosing how to feed my child.  No.  Just no.  What other people think should NOT play into what is the most effective way to get necessary calories into Cordie!  Who thought this was appropriate to post?  It literally says that "unnecessary...use (of formula) could be harmful to the health of the baby."

There are a lot of reasons mothers choose not to breastfeed.  It is not the place or right of this website to prevent you from looking at potentially useful information about formula until you acknowledge that you are making the "wrong" decision. I get that it's just clicking a button and isn't this actual big deal.  It's just that they are forcing you to acknowledge and accept this one sided, unhelpful, condescending information at all.  I don't like for third parties to stick their noses in where they don't belong.  I did go to this website from different devices and several different times and it pops up every single time, you can't get away (insert evil laugh).  If you click "cancel", you can't read the website.  It takes you back to the ForBaby homepage.  Way to be in your face about it, ForBaby

Here's the summary:  Feed your kid.  Use a boob, use a bottle, use a spoon, just feed your baby.  Don't get down on yourself no matter what method you use.  No one else has the right to make you feel inferior about doing your best as a parent, especially pompous, pseudo-controlling websites.

So this is my reintroduction to blogging.  Aren't you thrilled that it was a rant?  Here's to new posts coming soon!

I'm Going to Become Samson

Let's chat. I'm married, you know that.  I love Josh more than I ever thought I could love anyone. Our marriage is different than anyone else's. That is a basic principle of a relationship, be it marriage or dating, it is specific to the people in it.

That was the preface to this rant. What in the name of all that is good is something doing weighing in on the dynamic of my marriage??  As I'm typing this I wonder if I've written this before. I honestly might have, I'm this far in on the iPad so I'm finishing. There is this woman I know who feels the need to give her opinion. I like to consider Josh's thoughts in how I cut my hair. It's on my head so I don't see it that much, but Josh sees it. I like to think about what Josh likes. He will think I'm pretty no matter what, but I know he thinks my hair looks nice one way or another.

This Kills me! Not her place!  If I want to ask Josh, that's my business. Grrr, just irks me. I don't want to give my thoughts on someone else's marriage unless they ask for it specifically because I don't know everything about them, about how they work, how they interact, etc. I know that a lot of women who are very much "My body, my business!"  That's fine, that's cool, that's just not me. I think that my marriage vows make my body not entirely my own.

Okay that's all. Now I'm going to stop. I'll figure out what I want to do with my hair and ill ask Josh what he thinks because I value his opinion so there!

Look At the Fruits of My Labor

Well, nothing about this really counts as fruit.  There is literally half a tub of butter in all this.  My arteries starting waving a white flag at like 3:00.  It all tastes pretty good, some of it doesn't look so hot, but that is small potatoes compared to taste.  There is party mix, chocolate fudge, chocolate dipped pretzels, Oreo balls, a cheese plate, and cranberry and white chocolate cookies.  I also made crab dip but I took it down to Mom's house.  I am cooked out!  The really funny thing is that this is only Part of the stuff that I am serving on Sunday to my in-laws.  That in and of itself isn't that funny, but what makes it chuckle worthy is how little the six total people that are coming eat.  Yeah, it got a little out of hand.  I am also having chips and dip, pizza rolls, meatballs, and chocolate chip cookies that I haven't fixed yet.  And punch.  And Tums.  Lots of Tums.

That's what I did this afternoon!  How was your day?

Filth All Around

I cannot get in a cooking/cleaning routine.  I hear what you are saying “geez Sierra, you’ve been married nearly a year how are you possibly not in a routine by now, you lazy slug?”.  I’m just not, here is why:

Feb.-still all googly eyed over being married and trying to remember where I live since I lived in three places in three consecutive months

Mar. & Apr.-Josh was working weird schedules.  Sometimes he would be home at 5ish, sometimes not til 10ish, sometimes at 3ish.

May & Jun.- Josh started working 12 hour swing shifts (fun times).  That was nearly impossible to schedule dinner around.

Jul & Aug-I took a class and wasn’t getting home til almost 10 some nights but I’d be home at 3 other days.  And we got a relator and started looking at houses in earnest.

Aug. & Sept.-Josh moved to a regular schedule but we looked at houses almost every evening and I had physical therapy three times a week.

Oct.-We moved, got settled in, went on a honeymoon.

So now here we are and I still don't have a routine.  Here's the thing with cooking.  Josh wants to eat pretty much as soon as we walk in the door.  I have Maybe 45 minutes to get supper on or he's going to have soup.  That includes prep time, so 45 mins total.  I come home at lunch sometimes and get stuff ready but a lot times that is just dog gone hard!  I know he's hungry, but I don't want him to subsist on soup.  I do use the crockpot and that most definitely helps but I can pretty much only do it with a liquid (ie, soup) because without a lot of liquid the crockpot and I disagree on what is "done" versus what is "burnt to a charred crisp".  Maybe cooking ahead would be the thing to do?  Does anyone do that?  Like make up all the meals we want to have for the week on Saturday and then just slide them in the oven?

Then there is the cleaning.  Saturday is the cleaning day, but I just don't feel like it is quite enough.  Basically I feel like we are wallowing in the filth of our day to day lives the rest of the week, though I hope it isn't quite that bad.  Last night I dropped my sock down the vent and when I went to retrieve it, I noticed how gross and fuzzy/linty everything felt.  Then I had a coronary because I touched a dead squirrel.  Except it wasn't a squirrel, it was my sock; that's when I remembered why I was in the duct work up to my shoulder blades.  Saturday cleaning is great for the weekly stuff, but I need time to wash the walls, and vacuum the vents, and organize the pantry, and, and, and.  You see what I'm saying?

I don't really know what the answer is.  When I come home I am so tired.  By the time I get supper on and the mess put away, I just want to sit down and rest.  And it isn't that Josh doesn't help, he does the dishes and takes out the trash.  I have found out that if I leave on my shoes then I am more motivated to continue cleaning.  So this whole post had a point (are you surprised?).  What are your cleaning strategies?  Especially you women (or men) who work.  What motivates you to keep trucking after hours at the office?  Honestly, right now I am considering a chore chart because apparently I am five years old old.  I think maybe the visual aspect of having what needs to be done right on the wall or fridge would be helpful.  If you are a lurker, this is the time to jump right into discussion.  I need to hear options and personal stories so I kind find something that will work.  Please and thank you for the help!

Productivity and Decorations

Today was oh so productive!  It was wonderful.  Josh and I tagged teamed different aspects of the house and, quite frankly, kicked house butt. 

Things that were done:

-More Christmas decorations were washed and put up.  People say "shop your house" but I like to shop other people's houses so the decorations were courtesy of Mom and my aunt.  A bonus about that is that some of them get to be returned so storage isn't an issue.
-Many loads of laundry were done.
-The house was picked up
-Nutella Cheesecake Pumpkin muffins were made.  They are glorious!  Chocolate-y, pumpkin-y goodness.  Even Josh, who doesn't like pumpkin, said they were good and had one.  Recipe is here.
-Went to the library and took back books.  I have decided I no longer like "frilly" books.  I got one that sounded interesting and included a Jane Austen-esque plot but it did Jane Austen no credit and I found myself rolling my eyes prodigiously.  As a dear friend says, Life is too short to read bad books.
-Josh worked on the heat pump.  That work continues as when we came in the air conditioning was running.  It was COLD.
-There is one coat of paint on the walls.  It looks a little like a little boy nursery but I am trying to move past that.
-A birthday present for Mom was bought.
-Mexican food was consumed.

Here are some pics of the decorations.  Our house is still "plain" compared to some that I've seen decorated but since I don't like too much out cause it gets cluttery I am pretty pleased.

This is my dream home.  Those are my three (disporptionate) children hauling in the tree out front.  Inside, everything is decorated beautifully and the whole house is filled with family and good food.  The house looks like the cover of Southern Home Living.  Despite the fact I am cooking up a storm, every hair is in place and I'm wearing my pearls.  My fourth child is upstairs reading, cause she's like her mommy.  There is a shaggy dog that is underfoot but well beloved.  I have a rich fantasy life about that house.

 
I want to fill him with many cookies!

Cute!  Please excuse my mess, we're still constructing so the table is still occupied.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

This is my new Christmas candy dish.  I had a nice pumpkin one and now it is no longer pumpkin season.  I want to make fudge and put on it.

This was my great grandmother's dish. I set it on the table but haven't found anything to put in it yet.  I think the red and gold look great though!  This way too, I get red and gold in the kitchen/dining room and my other colors in the living room.

This is my beautiful tree!  I love it!  It is so very sparkly and nice.  My goal was to put up our first tree in our first home for our first married Christmas.  Goal=accomplished!  Our engagement and first Christmas ornaments are front and center too.  And, bonus, they match super well!

My Award Acceptance

The winner of this year's Cleanest Stove Top goes to...SIERRA!!!  Roaring applause 



Oh My Gosh!  Thank you so much!  I...I was just  not expecting this.  It's just...such a shock.

I mean, wow, I didn't expect this to be such an emotional experience.  Sniff, sniff, WAIL!!!  I'm just so HAPPY!!!

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank so many without whom this award would  not have been possible.  First, I'd like to thank my husband, who stood next to me and stared at the offending and dirty stove top and tried to think how we could get the black and brown and assorted stain colors off.  I'd like to thank my mother, who taught me everything I know about cleaning.  She encouraged me to never let a stain beat me.  I'd like to take a moment to remember some that gave their all in the effort to achieve this:  my fingernails.  Some nails sacrificed their very life to make my stove top as clean as it.  Their efforts will be remembered with great affection.  Finally, and most importantly, I'd like to thank Arm and Hammer for the production of some truly fine baking soda, without which I would not be standing before you accepting this beautiful statue. 

Next year, I'm taking the oven cleaning award too suckas!

If you didn't catch on, I accomplished a great feat today.  I got my eyeless stove top cleaned.  It had been hounding me for weeks, beating me at every attempt.  Today, I bested it.  If you didn't catch my enthusiasm, I'd be happy to try to compose a little song and dance number about it.

Finally, thank you to all my wonderful blog readers, whom read my drivel and even laugh at it!

Happy Thanksgiving one and all, may all your stove tops be clean!  (But not as clean as mine :)

My Day in Pictures

Today was productive and here are the pictures to prove it. 

I unpacked a lot of the remaining stuff that had been left at my parents house.  Among the things was this little guy.  Dad got him for me Christmas last year or the year before.  He thinks there is a resemblance.

Then I cleaned my toilets and did laundry but there is no picture of that.  I know you are disappointed.  Then I moved this bed frame, mattress, and most of the box springs up the stairs.  I say most because Josh came home when I was one third of the way up the stairs with the beast and helped with the last bit.  It was heavy.  I had to turn a crappy corner.  I am woman, hear me roar.

The new king sized mattress were put in our room!  Woo hoo!!!  We have room to sleep!  There is now hope of sleeping!  We ordered the bed frame today as well.  It should be in here in about two weeks.

Josh got a propane tank for the gas logs so we don't have to shiver in the living room anymore.

Mom made chicken and dumplings for my belated birthday dinner.  We had cake.  It was wonderful.  I have a ton left.  :)

I got my mixer!  I'm so excited!  It looks great.  I also got saddle oxfords.  All in all, a very good day.  (I have no idea why this is sideways.  I rotated it and saved it upright, the thumbnail shows it correctly.  Just turn your head and look.)

 I hope your Saturday was equally good!

Corn Chowder

Today has been really low key...so I really don't have much to post, but I have to because it is November and I follow completely arbitrary rules.  Whistle, whistle.  I did make some pretty good corn chowder.  There was a lot of butter.  And bacon.  And heavy cream.  It was wonderful.  My arteries are clogged with corny goodness.  I accompanied it with fresh sour dough bread from the church auction.  If Rumpelstiltskin (did you know Spell Check knows the correct spelling of Rumpelstiltskin?  It doesn't recognize my name, but that it knows?) were to make me an offer for my first born, he would offer me fresh bread.  Or chocolate, probably chocolate.  Yum.  I need chocolate now.

 Also, good news!  I figured out what that light switch went to!  (Trying to rearrange that sentence so it doesn't end with a preposition...somehow Josh's snoring is making it difficult, well that is my excuse for lack of good grammar lol).  I didn't even know that there was a light out there. 

Yeah, my life is THAT fascinating.  I know you are so impressed.  Tomorrow I will try to think of something better to write, I will also try to use better grammar.  I know you're excited.

A Single Rose

A pretty rose from the bushes outside the house.  Josh picked it for me and put it in my hair :)  When the thorns stuck me I thought it would be pretty in the martini glass.

Lookie Lookie!

After months of searching and many tears we have found a house!  We close next week.  Right now we are packing.  Oh, my, gosh.  My house is trashed.  There are no pictures of this because, well it's bad.  I have moved seven times in four years and Hopefully this will be our last for some time!  We are super super excited!  There will be more pictures when we are moved in and decorated, for the moment the pictures have all the other family's stuff in it haha.

Also, I want to brag on my husband.  I did not see eye to eye with our realtor.  She grated on my nerves.  Josh almost completely took over the house searching and realtor calling when I reached the end of my rope.  I am SOOOOOOO proud of Josh!  He doesn't like to make decisions and do all calling stuff but he stepped up and took care of it cause he loves me.  And he loves my sanity.   And values my sanity.  Thank you Love!  You da best!

The Random Things That Make Up My Life

So I have had three random thoughts for blog posts but I never managed to get time to post, so here are all three in one.

1.  Josh and I went to the drive-in on Saturday.  I really love the drive-in.  It is leaps and bounds better than going to the theater.  It was a double feature:  Rise of the Planet of the Apes and Captain America.  Planet of the Apes was surprisingly good.  I didn't think the previews looked good but it was.  I was way disappointed by Captain America. I love a good superhero movie and the previews looked amazing and then there was the let down.  Now obviously superhero movies aren't true, but really?  Steve Rodgers was taking on a crazy demon looking man and a ton of his cronies with only that shield?  Plus the bad guys had all these wild super advanced weapons and yet they Could Not hit one of the good guys with their blue laser guns.  Sigh.  Disappointment.  Here is Josh chillin' waiting on the movie to start.  This was before he made me put up the camera because I was taking too many pictures (hey, I had to kill time!)

He blinked but wouldn't let me retake it cause the flash was bright.  Haha.  Hahahaha


2.  Josh and I don't talk on the phone.  We just aren't phone people.  We only talk on the phone in a pinch.  I called today and his phone was echoing like crazy and it made me think of this story that you might enjoy.  I called Josh a few months after we got married and this is how it went.

S:  Hello.  It's me...Sierra...your wife.
J:  Hi.
S:  Hi, I was calling in regards to our weekend plans.  I sent you a facebook message with some details and wanted to see if you had made a decision?
J:  Oh.  No, I hadn't looked at it.
S:  Okay then, well let me know when you have decided on a plan and I will make reservations (we were going out of town).
J:  Okay.
S:  Goodbye.

Thirty seconds and completely stilted.  Really?  You would think we were total strangers.  I will barge into the bathroom when he is in the shower just to ask if he wants grape juice.  I will, teasingly, stick my feet under his nose and ask if they stink.  And yet when I get on the phone neither of us can think of a thing to say.  Hilarious.

3.  I made blueberry pork.  It was soo soo good.  I started with a recipe from Food Network, it had blueberries and mustard.  That was all I could remember so I made it up from there.  Then I realized I had the "wrong" kind of mustard so I just kept making it up.  Needless to say, Food Network will be calling any day now because it was yummy.  The picture doesn't it do it justice but Josh was standing over my shoulder while I was cooking so I couldn't get a picture until after he was full.

That's my life. I know you were riveted ;)

This Is An Important Week

I am ready for this week, well sort of.  This week I have my neurologist appointment and my wisdom teeth taken out.  I am so incredibly ready to hear what the neurologist has to say.  You cannot imagine how ready I am to be headache free.  And my wisdom teeth are just annoying.  My parents paid far too much money to make my teeth straight for these silly wisdom teeth to mess them up.

In order to get ready for this week I have been cleaning like a mad woman all weekend.  I have literally cleaned the light fixtures.  My bathroom has no light because they fixtures are down and drying.  It's a little extreme.  This is what I imagine nesting must be like.  Here is a financial tip from me to you (because I completely and totally qualified to offer you advice ;)  )  (I never know how to close a parentheses when I have a smiley at the end)  (Sorry, I use a lot of parentheses)  (Now I'm done).  If I ever get pregnant you should invest in the company that makes Pine Sol.  I have used about half a bottle in two days.  Right now my entire apartment smells like a pine forest.  I think that company would be looking at two extremely good quarters if I were nesting.  Anyway, so there has been lots of cleaning, why you ask?  Because of my mother.  She has permanently damaged my psyche.  Not really, that is completely a joke.  She did teach me that you should always plan to die.  I know that is morbid, but just in case I didn't wake up from being put to sleep for the wisdom teeth or I had some brain eating bacteria and I kicked the bucket I want the house to be nice for the ladies who will bring casseroles to Josh.  Do I think either of those will happen, no, but now if they did, the microwave is clean.  What is more likely, is that I will be tired and swollen and won't feel like cleaning and will be appreciative of my fresh clean sheets.  I love clean sheets.


I've also cooked two fresh loaves of bread.  Regular honey wheat and cinnamon raisin.  I put Nutella and banana slices on the cinnamon raisin and it was a party in my mouth.  I think that is my new favorite breakfast food.  I've also stocked up lots of food.  I'm ready to convalesce.  Prayers for quick healing would be awesome.  Also, should I die, go to the guest bathroom and say "Look at these globes, so clean wipe tear she was so thoughtful to clean these so we could see when we brought this delicious casserole."  Thanks!

Look how prettily it swirled!  This is a major accomplishment for me.

Sometimes There Is An Epic Fail...This Is An Example

 I had a really good idea.  I was going to make a four layer cake.  I bought a new pan.  It is the coolest thing.  It has this little latch on the side that makes the pan sort of spring out and let the cake come out of the bottom, keeping it's shape...in theory that is.  This is my pan (And my pretty basket for Farmer's Market Shopping, I might have sung "a tisket, a tasket, a red and yellow basket".  I couldn't help myself.  You weren't there, don't judge my voice lol.).

So then I chose a recipe for icing, one that didn't call for only egg whites because I can't separate yolk from white. 

Define irony:  choosing an icing recipe without only egg whites, only to have your husband ask for white cake...which requires only egg whites.  I did get better at getting just the whites and leaving the yolk intact.  Here's another side note, I made those eggs into scrambled eggs and without whites eggs are BAD!! 

I started baking the cake.  For some unknown reason it took nearly twice as long as it was supposed to.  While the cake baked, I made the icing.  Well, that is to say, that I tried.  I accidently misread the recipe and screwed it up.  Instead of being nice and fluffy it was like a really tasty cream cheesy pudding.  Good, but not conducive to layering.  Not to be taunted I tried.  I cut the cake in half and layered with icing and put peaches on the second layer.  Not too bad.  Just wait.

The next two layers finished the poor cake off.  It collapsed under its own weight.  It wasn't a pretty sight.  There was so much icing that the top two layers tried to slide off the counter, I had to catch them with my bare hands.  Don't worry, I am a compulsive hand washer when I cook.  I then scooped it onto plates and dolloped just a little a whole bunch of the leftover icing on top and then added fruit.  Oh well.  Sometimes the cake falls.  Then you scoop it onto plates or serve it in martini glasses.  Overall it's what's inside that counts.  Such a wonderful life lesson.  Maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better.  :)