Me: Hey boy.
Carey: Hey
M: Do you think it's ok to eat chocolate that has melted and looks all weird and bubbly?
C: Weird and bubbly?
M: Yeah, weird and bubbly. And it has like a chalky film on top. Like it's melted or something.
C: I don't know. I'd have to see it.
M: Based on what I've told you, though, would you eat it?
C: What kind of candy bar is it?
M: Cookies and Cream
C: Ooo, I don't know. Oh wait, cookies and cream not cookie dough.
M: Yeah. Cookies and cream
C: Yeah, you'll be ok. The air bubbles probably just happened when it melted and the chalky film is also just the way chocolate looks when it melts and re-hardens.
M: So, you sure I'll be ok?
C: Yeah. I'd eat it.
M: K. Thanks.
C: You're welcome.
It was delicious, by the way.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Oh snap.
Pipes is sick. She's had a cold for 8 days now. She gave it to me on about the 3rd day. It's not the flu but it's not fun either.
She's moved into the stage where she's coughing and got nasty in her throat that makes me want to hock a loogie for her. .... Is that even how it's spelled?
Anyway, despite feeling horrible, she's met several milestones this past week. She's learned and can (although not consistently) stand up in her crib and can stand holding onto the couch.
She's learned and perfected her method of getting from laying down to the sitting up position.
But most importantly, she's learned, as of this night, to crawl. To crawl, people.
Where's my "ee baby" gone? And in case you're wondering that's a term we use that I cannot explain to Carey. It just means little, basically.
Buddy is the one who made her crawl. I knew we named him right. He was laying there all cute and she just couldn't resist his charms. She had to get from her place on the floor to him. And then as Carey told him to move from place to place around the room she followed him.
Now all I'm wondering is that it's all cute and exciting for us and Piper but what kind of anxiety is Buddy having to come to terms with tonigh? Poor thing.
I think I shall go give him some cheese. He's my fella after all.
She's moved into the stage where she's coughing and got nasty in her throat that makes me want to hock a loogie for her. .... Is that even how it's spelled?
Anyway, despite feeling horrible, she's met several milestones this past week. She's learned and can (although not consistently) stand up in her crib and can stand holding onto the couch.
She's learned and perfected her method of getting from laying down to the sitting up position.
But most importantly, she's learned, as of this night, to crawl. To crawl, people.
Where's my "ee baby" gone? And in case you're wondering that's a term we use that I cannot explain to Carey. It just means little, basically.
Buddy is the one who made her crawl. I knew we named him right. He was laying there all cute and she just couldn't resist his charms. She had to get from her place on the floor to him. And then as Carey told him to move from place to place around the room she followed him.
Now all I'm wondering is that it's all cute and exciting for us and Piper but what kind of anxiety is Buddy having to come to terms with tonigh? Poor thing.
I think I shall go give him some cheese. He's my fella after all.
Sweet potato love
So, recently we've rediscovered the deliciousness that is Sticky Fingers.
May I take a moment to tell you about the sweet potato casserole?
It. is. amazing. The end.
The thing is, I've never cared for sweet potatoes. I would much rather just have a regular potato. Which is really strange because I almost always choose something sweet over having something... er, not sweet. Anyway, I made some of mama's sweet potato souffle for Thanksgiving and Christmas and I had to taste it to make sure I hadn't added a tablespoon of salt rather than a teaspoon or something crazy. Which is a real possibility when I'm cooking. Let's just be honest. So when I was tasting the sweet potato souffle I decided that I don't hate it but that I do in fact love it. I love it.
I love it.
I love it.
I love it.
And now anytime I see sweet potato anything on a restaurant menu, I order it and weight watcher's be darned. Actually, I just don't eat something else that I might have had that day. I also love weight watcher's, have I mentioned recently?
Long story short, I've become obsessed with Sticky Fingers sweet potato casserole. As in, I crave it as if I was pregnant. Which I'm not, friends. I am NOT. But I want it at really inconvenient times. Like 11:00 at night.
SO, I've found a recipe that told me it tastes just like Sticky Fingers.
It does not.
It's better.
It's like really runny, sweet potato casserole. I kinda just guessed with some of the measurements. But it being runny actually makes it like a dessert. I'm eating it and you get these big mouthfuls of brown sugar and butter.
That's all. I'm glad I shared this with you.
May I take a moment to tell you about the sweet potato casserole?
It. is. amazing. The end.
The thing is, I've never cared for sweet potatoes. I would much rather just have a regular potato. Which is really strange because I almost always choose something sweet over having something... er, not sweet. Anyway, I made some of mama's sweet potato souffle for Thanksgiving and Christmas and I had to taste it to make sure I hadn't added a tablespoon of salt rather than a teaspoon or something crazy. Which is a real possibility when I'm cooking. Let's just be honest. So when I was tasting the sweet potato souffle I decided that I don't hate it but that I do in fact love it. I love it.
I love it.
I love it.
I love it.
And now anytime I see sweet potato anything on a restaurant menu, I order it and weight watcher's be darned. Actually, I just don't eat something else that I might have had that day. I also love weight watcher's, have I mentioned recently?
Long story short, I've become obsessed with Sticky Fingers sweet potato casserole. As in, I crave it as if I was pregnant. Which I'm not, friends. I am NOT. But I want it at really inconvenient times. Like 11:00 at night.
SO, I've found a recipe that told me it tastes just like Sticky Fingers.
It does not.
It's better.
It's like really runny, sweet potato casserole. I kinda just guessed with some of the measurements. But it being runny actually makes it like a dessert. I'm eating it and you get these big mouthfuls of brown sugar and butter.
That's all. I'm glad I shared this with you.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
For the Bible tells me so
"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind."
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Hear me, cousins. Heed my advice.
I've heard a lot of people say that they don't see the point of taking a child under a certain age to Disney because they won't remember it. They seem to think this makes it a complete waste of time and money.
Have you made this foolish statement before? Well, sir... I'm hear to tell you, you've said at least one foolish thing in your life. Oh you heard me. I've gone and gotten all confrontational on you but I don't apologize. This cause is worth the momentary awkwardness.
Let me explain to you why it's totally worth taking a baby of, let's just say 7 months.
...just throwin' a random age out there...
1. It's true - maybe they won't remember the trip. But they'll have a lot fun in that moment. They'll ride in that stroller and laugh and smile and talk to every person and ever tree and every Mickey topiary they pass. And you, my friend. You will have a monumentally good time watching this. Seriously.
2. After a full day of riding around in all that activity, they'll sleep like... well, a baby.
On a side note, why is that a saying? Babies don't exactly sleep great a lot of the time. I'm just curious.
So anyway, if yours is one of those babies, this alone should make you want to run to Disney World. But that's just my humble opinion.
3. Maybe they won't remember it but they'll always have those pictures and all those wonderful videos and all the stories you tell them. And frankly, it just sets a good precedent because if you go when they're that little then you obviously mean business about it and will probably go back a lot throughout their childhood. Which makes for a super happy childhood.
Trust me, I know this.
In fact, there was a brief period of time when I was a little girl that we didn't go to Disney for a while. I refer to this as the dark ages. But that's a sad story for another day.
So, you all can just stop judging me when you hear that I've dragged us on another Disney trip because this is only the first of many for Piper.
And it's not for me. ..No sir. It's for Piper.
For Piper, I tell you.
__________________________________________
...You hear that? That's the sound of Carey weeping.
Have you made this foolish statement before? Well, sir... I'm hear to tell you, you've said at least one foolish thing in your life. Oh you heard me. I've gone and gotten all confrontational on you but I don't apologize. This cause is worth the momentary awkwardness.
Let me explain to you why it's totally worth taking a baby of, let's just say 7 months.
...just throwin' a random age out there...
1. It's true - maybe they won't remember the trip. But they'll have a lot fun in that moment. They'll ride in that stroller and laugh and smile and talk to every person and ever tree and every Mickey topiary they pass. And you, my friend. You will have a monumentally good time watching this. Seriously.
2. After a full day of riding around in all that activity, they'll sleep like... well, a baby.
On a side note, why is that a saying? Babies don't exactly sleep great a lot of the time. I'm just curious.
So anyway, if yours is one of those babies, this alone should make you want to run to Disney World. But that's just my humble opinion.
3. Maybe they won't remember it but they'll always have those pictures and all those wonderful videos and all the stories you tell them. And frankly, it just sets a good precedent because if you go when they're that little then you obviously mean business about it and will probably go back a lot throughout their childhood. Which makes for a super happy childhood.
Trust me, I know this.
In fact, there was a brief period of time when I was a little girl that we didn't go to Disney for a while. I refer to this as the dark ages. But that's a sad story for another day.
So, you all can just stop judging me when you hear that I've dragged us on another Disney trip because this is only the first of many for Piper.
And it's not for me. ..No sir. It's for Piper.
For Piper, I tell you.
__________________________________________
...You hear that? That's the sound of Carey weeping.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
"I may not be the biggest or the brightest in the sky"
Today Lindsay and Chace celebrated their 9th anniversary.
In conversation she reminded me that she got married at 21, which makes her 30. ..Which makes me 27. ...I usually can't remember exactly how old I am...
Now I'm not so foolish to think we're old. 30 and 27 is not old. But sometimes I realize where we are in life and it shocks me a little bit.
Lindsay has been married nearly a decade now. Me, half a decade.
We have a toddler and two babies between us who basically depend on us for their very existence.
I know this isn't really that big a deal. Please understand, I know some of you have many... many... MANY... (too many's..?) years on us and you know being married just 5 years is nothing really. But in my mind -for the most part- I have to remind myself that I'm not still an awkward 14 year old.
In my mind, we're still in highschool and I'm jealous of Lindsay because she's getting ready to gain her freedom from the prison sentence that is Calvary Day School (I did. I said it.) while I still have 3 years of misery to go.
That was yesterday. And now today, I'm standing in the parking lot of a hardware store changing what is essentially the biggest explosion of poop ever to come from a human weighing only 16 pounds and having to walk in to get paint supplies hoping the nice man isn't looking at me funny because I have poop smeared on my face... er something.
But I digress..
And I keep wondering... How did I get here so quickly?
Yesterday I was graduating. Today I'm changing a stinky diaper. Tomorrow I'll be pooping my own pants while teaching her to drive. And then the next, she has her own children with her own poop stories.
"What are our lives except a vapor that appears for a little while and vanishes and passes away?"
So Lindsay and Chace - Happy day ....and thanks for having an anniversary that makes me get all thoughtful and melodramatic about life.
FALSE. I do not appreciate it.
In conversation she reminded me that she got married at 21, which makes her 30. ..Which makes me 27. ...I usually can't remember exactly how old I am...
Now I'm not so foolish to think we're old. 30 and 27 is not old. But sometimes I realize where we are in life and it shocks me a little bit.
Lindsay has been married nearly a decade now. Me, half a decade.
We have a toddler and two babies between us who basically depend on us for their very existence.
I know this isn't really that big a deal. Please understand, I know some of you have many... many... MANY... (too many's..?) years on us and you know being married just 5 years is nothing really. But in my mind -for the most part- I have to remind myself that I'm not still an awkward 14 year old.
In my mind, we're still in highschool and I'm jealous of Lindsay because she's getting ready to gain her freedom from the prison sentence that is Calvary Day School (I did. I said it.) while I still have 3 years of misery to go.
That was yesterday. And now today, I'm standing in the parking lot of a hardware store changing what is essentially the biggest explosion of poop ever to come from a human weighing only 16 pounds and having to walk in to get paint supplies hoping the nice man isn't looking at me funny because I have poop smeared on my face... er something.
But I digress..
And I keep wondering... How did I get here so quickly?
Yesterday I was graduating. Today I'm changing a stinky diaper. Tomorrow I'll be pooping my own pants while teaching her to drive. And then the next, she has her own children with her own poop stories.
"What are our lives except a vapor that appears for a little while and vanishes and passes away?"
So Lindsay and Chace - Happy day ....and thanks for having an anniversary that makes me get all thoughtful and melodramatic about life.
FALSE. I do not appreciate it.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Look it up... that's what it means.
Piper Rose,
If I were like women of the Bible, I would have waited and given you a name with meaning. I would have given birth to you, held you and talked to you. I would have counted and recounted your toes, felt of your perfectly round ears and kissed the insane softness of the fluffy part of your head until it was almost bald. I would have smelled your hair and watched you sleep and gotten to know every one of your cries... And THEN, after having time to know you and to pray about it, I would have named you something that describes who you are; who God ordained you to be before I even knew you. I'll tell you now, in case your wondering, it would have been a name meaning happy one, or happiness, or one who is glad, who is content, who is a little ray of sunshine.
You'll hear lots of mama's call their babies their little sunshines and I know now why they do. Our babies are our sunshines. Everything can be wrong but when we look at you it all suddenly seems ok. But when I say I'd give you a name meaning happy one, I don't just mean you're occasionally or even mostly in a happy mood. I think your joy is one of your gifts. Maybe it's just because I'm your mama and I'm blinded by my love but I decided the other night that I believe God gave you the gift of joy. And Pipes, unfortunately you'll soon find that the world needs joy. A lot of it.
So Piper Rose, "don't hide it under a bushel, NO! .. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine" and know that if I were like the wise women of the Bible you're name could have been Harshit.
You're welcome.
If I were like women of the Bible, I would have waited and given you a name with meaning. I would have given birth to you, held you and talked to you. I would have counted and recounted your toes, felt of your perfectly round ears and kissed the insane softness of the fluffy part of your head until it was almost bald. I would have smelled your hair and watched you sleep and gotten to know every one of your cries... And THEN, after having time to know you and to pray about it, I would have named you something that describes who you are; who God ordained you to be before I even knew you. I'll tell you now, in case your wondering, it would have been a name meaning happy one, or happiness, or one who is glad, who is content, who is a little ray of sunshine.
You'll hear lots of mama's call their babies their little sunshines and I know now why they do. Our babies are our sunshines. Everything can be wrong but when we look at you it all suddenly seems ok. But when I say I'd give you a name meaning happy one, I don't just mean you're occasionally or even mostly in a happy mood. I think your joy is one of your gifts. Maybe it's just because I'm your mama and I'm blinded by my love but I decided the other night that I believe God gave you the gift of joy. And Pipes, unfortunately you'll soon find that the world needs joy. A lot of it.
So Piper Rose, "don't hide it under a bushel, NO! .. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine" and know that if I were like the wise women of the Bible you're name could have been Harshit.
You're welcome.
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