The Human Napkin

Unfulfilled? Frustrated with cleaning up the same mess 22 times in one hour? Sick and tired of cleaning up broken Christmas balls? Done with nagging to get homework done, flush the potty or to finish eating dinner? Had it up to here with kids begging for more toys, candy, presents, computer time, movies, video games or other outrageously expensive landfill toys.

Me too.

It must be in the air; Fed-Up-Ness seems to be a recurring theme on a whole lot of blogs right now. Count me among the masses. If I have to tell Bean to leave the presents alone one more time, I’m taking them all back. If Abby yanks another ornament off the tree, I might duct tape her little chubby hands to the floor. If Jeffrey calls grandma one more time to beg for more toys, I might roll up the catalogs he circles everything in and whomp him over the head.

I know my kids need me at home. I know no one can replace a parent in the home, and that being at the crossroads is muy importanto. So I’m here. But man, sometimes I have to agree, a trained monkey could do most of what being a SAHM entails. Seriously. OK, the monkey wouldn’t love my kids the way I do, and he might bite an owie rather than kiss it, but he seriously could do all the other mundane, repetitive, thankless tasks that take up most of my day, leaving me with little brainpower or energy to be an interesting, thoughtful, engaging woman.

I don’t have any idea how to balance this. If anyone knows, let me in on it, OK? For now, I will continue to be the trained monkey in my house, and will try really hard not to bite my kids when they knock over and break yet another widget.

Sometimes, I just want to scream: “I am more than a human NAPKIN!”

Odds and Ends

Despite the Grinch and his tear-inducing ways, my tree is up and decorated, and if I can keep Abby from UN-decorating the entire bottom half, it will be a good month. There are no lights on the outside of the house yet, and with snow predicted for tonight, it’s not looking good for my little lightbulb friends.

A week with DH at home has been (trying to think of something true yet tactful- not my strong suit) lovely. He did afford me some nice alone time, straightened out the basement, and let me get in some good sewing time. That means all of you ladies who’ve been waiting for your Pay It Forward treats will be getting something in the mail this week.

I think retired missions just might be marriage savers.

Me, the toy goddess, is stymied by what to get Abby for Christmas. We have everything she could possibly need, yet the poor girl needs to unwrap something. I might just tear a page from Wiz’s book at MMW and wrap up toys she already has!

Jeffrey and I are both sick. Abby has a running nose, so it’s coming for her, too. I think the flu and pneumonia shots I got last month are helping though, because I’m not currently flattened by this bug. Jeff’s going to school no matter what.

Everyone back to school and work tomorrow! Yay!

Still no pictures for the Christmas card- Abby keeps banging her head on things, and I really don’t want purple goose-eggs preserved for posterity.

I have a stye on my left eye. Anyone ever had one of those? So not only is my head full of concrete and I’m coughing and sneezing, but my left eye looks like a pink prune. It’s very lovely, let me tell you.

Babies galore in the blogworld- it must be something in the air. Bek, Nestle, Carrie and most recently, Julie, have announced buns in the oven. Congrats, Mamas! Keep away from me. *just kidding* (mostly) sort of.

After eight years of marriage, I’ve thrown in the towel and handed management of all our finances to my husband. I love it. Money and I don’t mix too well- I mean, I like to buy things, but I hate numbers. Hate them. Give me some words. Words, I love. Numbers, not so much.

Bean hit Jeffrey over the head last night with a small Christmas tree. Said Jeff was buggin’ him. Small shards of ornament balls do not make good bedfellows, as Jeff’s bed had to be stripped and vacuumed. What to do with the boy… *sigh*

Guaranteed Hollandaise Sauce


About twice a year I make Eggs Benedict. Anymore than that and we’d all be in the cardiac unit- but, oh my, it is my favorite breakfast ever.  Well, it might be followed closely by my apple Dutch Baby, but it’s still got a slim (ha!) lead.

The only problem with Eggs Benedict (besides the utter over-the-topness of a sauce made with so much butter) is making hollandaise sauce. It can be tricky, and the stuff from the store is just gross. If you’re going to do Benedict, do make your sauce from scratch. Especially since I’m going to give the absolutely guarantees method for making it without it EVER breaking or separating. I promise.

  1. In your blender, put three raw egg yolks. Do something else with the whites- I don’t care, but they have no place in a hollandaise.
  2. Add 1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice to the egg yolks, and whirl it all up.
  3. In a glass measuring cup, melt two sicks of butter in the microwave.
  4. With the butter hot, and the blender on, GRADUALLY add the hot butter to the whirling egg yolks.
  5. That’s it. It will be the best hollandaise ever, and no breaking. The heat from the butter warms the eggs, and all is well in the world. SOOOOO yummy.

Oh, but don’t eat this if you’re preggers, and all that- raw eggs, you know. The eggs are cooked a little by the butter, but better safe than sorry.

Tradition says that Benedict is served with an English muffin, Canadian bacon and a poached egg. That’s not how I do it, but feel free if that toots your horn. For a new mix, try replacing the muffin with a fresh baked, split buttermilk biscuit, topped with thin sliced ham and a poached egg. Or, my personal favorite, top the split biscuit with sauteed fresh spinach and a thick slice of fresh tomato, then the egg and hollandaise. I think they call that Eggs Florentine. I don’t care- it’s the best thing ever.

Black Friday

We’re setting up the tree, I have the carols blasting, the kids are tossing the paper chains all catty-whompus around the living room, when DH, who did NOT grow up in a Holiday Appreciation Household, made a quip that sent me into tears.

I have no idea why- I know he doesn’t get into the holidays like I do, and it doesn’t usually bother me- but for some reason, I just started bawling. Killed the mood, and now the tree is standing forlorn and unadorned; the wind just plunked out of my sails.

I’m standing at the kitchen sink, sniffing and wiping my eyes with a paper-towel. Jeffrey, oblivious to my feelings, like any six year old boy, begins to whine, questioning when we will commence decorating the tree.

I can hear DH futzing around in the living room, more for my benefit than anything, he says: “When I go outside and hang myself.”

Jeffrey, ever the eager boy, says: “Can I HELP!?”

I burst out laughing. Mood restored, tree decorating can resume.  Anyone else married to a Grinch?

Happy Thanksgiving

As for me and my house, this day we find ourselves thankful for:

The abundant blessings and freedom of being a free people, and all the goodness that enfolds. Our family, a wonderful, odd, yet somehow perfect, mix of characters who all somehow manage to love one another. Faith. Having faith has changed our lives in profound and personal ways I never would have imagined.

In a nutshell, (because I have to go cook now!) those are the things we are thankful for this day of Thanksgiving.

For someone who took the time and grace to say it much better than I, check out this link

Blessings to you and yours this day. 

What’s In Your Grass?

Setting the stage- we are in the car on the way home from school, and we see a beautiful five-point buck and a doe eating some shrubs on the side of the road. We see a lot of deer, but not usually males with racks like this one- the kids are excited.

Jeffrey: Mom, do deer eat grass?

Me: Sure, they eat grass and twigs and bark and whatever they can find.

Jeffrey: When lions die, they become the grass!

Me: Huh? Uh, yeah- that’s part of the circle of life thing from Lion King, and in a roundabout way, it is true.

Jeffrey: So deer are eating lions?

Beanie, giggling loudly: Deff! Deer don’t eat LIONS!

Jeffrey, irate: BEAN! You don’t know anything! You don’t even know our grass at home is MADE of DEAD LIONS!!!

Me, snerfing diet coke on the windsheild: Bwaaaaaahahahahahaha!!!!!

Random Crap

…Because that’s all I’ve got right now. And, I cribbed the title from the Wiz at MMW. Wanna make something of it?

Thanksgiving. Ugh. I hate, loathe even, all the food associated with Turkey Day. Turkey? Yuck- the only thing I’d even touch is a tiny bit of breast meat- seems like such a waste. Pumpkin pie? You couldn’t pay me to eat it- seriously. Yams or any vegetable with marshmallows on it? What are you thinking- marshmallows are pure evil. Stuffing and gravy? Geeeewww- it’s soggy, fatty bread, and gravy is just icky.

Did I mention I’m cooking on Thursday? Yes, and we’re having guests. I’m making enchiladas and sopapillas. Just kidding. I’ll trod out all the old standbys, put the proper feast on the table, and not eat a bite. Well, OK, I do like mashed potatoes.

My husband is home all this week. He’s already driving me crazy, and it’s only 10:32 a.m. Why is it we yearn for them to be around more, but when they are, they get underfoot and rile the kids up and make life harder? I’m still happy he’s home.

Abby doesn’t talk yet at all. Anyone else have an 18 month old with no verbal skills? By this time, my boys had 60-80 word vocabularies. What gives? I think she’s just fine, and she understands everything, just makes no effort to talk.

I’ve been called to teach Sunday School to the 12 year old girls at church. I think it’ll be good- there’s only three of them, and someone else gets the 8 boys in the same age group. I’m good with that.

Pictures are coming up- that time of year I dread. Getting three kids to the photographer clean and happy and put together is nigh unto impossible, and I always end up a total wreak. But Abby hasn’t had her picture taken since she was 5 months old. Bad Mama. Jeff’s school picture is comical, and Beanie doesn’t get school pictures yet-so of to JC Penny we go. *Holding my breath and grinding my teeth*

Three more days until I get to decorate for Christmas! Yee-haw!! Get thyself away, Thanksgiving!

I adore the version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemenby the Bare Naked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan- it makes me feel so happy.

With all my heart I wish I could see my family this year.

My new favorite album is Brandi Carlile’s The Story. Every song is just wonderful- and it’s pretty much on constant rotation in our house.

My best girlfriend from Jr High had her first baby a few days ago, and just I’m so happy for her and her wonderful husband. They waited a long time for this little girl, and it’s going to be fun watching them be parents.

Haven’t started my Christmas shopping yet. Anyone going to brave the masses for Black Friday? Last time I did, I swore I would never do it again- but depending on the ads on Thursday, I must just do it. There is an annonymous member of my family who gets up at 4:30 am on that Friday and doesn’t come home ’til midnight. I won’t be going with her.

Obviously I’ve bombed out of the NaBloPoMo. Oops. Sorry. I suppose it’s better to write when I have something to say, rather than output drivel. Cause this isn’t drivel? Uh-huh. See what I mean?

Beanie wore his pretty pants to church yesterday. Really. The black velvet ones with rhinestones and pink flowers. I don’t know if we just have a rockin’ ward or what, but he got SO many compliments, from the Bishop down, that I know he’s going to want to wear them again. He did have on a white shirt. So whatever.

Off to change a poopy diaper. You needed to know that, right?

Let’s Share the Love

There’s a new blog out there in Mormondom, written by an enthusiastic and seemingly guileless young mother who converted to the LDS faith relatively recently. The woman is named Steffie, she is a mother and wife, and started blogging just like the rest of us.

Here’s the kicker. A bunch of Christian Evangelicals have found her blog, and are crawling all over her, ripping her faith up and down. As I scrolled through her posts, I’m amazed and appalled at the things some people say- and the most lovely thing is Steffie’s own patience and sincerity in dealing with what are, for lack of a kinder word, Trolls.

If you have  a second, stop by her site and let her know how many others of us, LDS or not, support the respect of others’ faith. It’s quite touching how many people you might recognize from the ‘nacle have left her comments, or even pulled out the big guns and taken on the attackers themselves. I find myself curiously moved by the whole thing. Check it out.

Images Meme

On my next birthday, I will be…


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