I think he bloody paid her....

Himself was away on an overnight trip with his Dad last night. Leaving me to revel in the gloriousness (yes, I'm aware that that isn't a 'real' word. At least according to the obnoxious as hell red line claiming such, beneath it. Don't care.) that is a Cali-king sized bed. All alone.
*looks to the heavens and sighs*

I looked forward to going to bed alllll day.

When the hour finally arrived, I spread myself out over as much of the empty space as I could without dislocating a body part (Himself will be sorry he missed THAT) and hunkered in for a wonderful sleep.

I thoroughly enjoyed that wonderful sleep until about 2 hours later, when I awoke with my head on my pillow and one of our 2 cats attempting to put me into some sort of quazi-UFC headlock. She was wrapped around the top of my head, ON the pillow, with her front legs on either side of my head, and her head resting on top of mine. WTF??

She was unceremoniously given a short flight across the bed and I went back to that wonderful sleep.

Until a couple of hours later... QUAZI-UFC HEADLOCK AGAIN. A slightly longer flight OFF the bed this time.

ONE HOUR LATER... she was ON MY DAMN HEAD. Like on TOP of my head and woke me up because it felt like I was being held under water and drowning... TRANS-CON flight OUT of the room and the airport was CLOSED.

I'm deeply suspicious Himself had something to do with this. Because he had to sleep in a tiny twin sized bed last night at his parent's apartment. So if HE wasn't getting any sleep... god forbid that I should!

Oh wait... that would be how I'D roll...

Never mind....

When knowing enough to be dangerous is grounds for justifiable homicide

My husband is not a carpenter. He is not a contractor. But he knows juuuust enough that he thinks he is. Did I mention that he's also ADD? So he gets all geared up and excited about a renovation project, dives in head first and then OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT WALL OVER THERE THAT NEEDS TO BE REMOVED! He gets distracted, the tools fall from his hands and, with his eyes glazed over at the excitement of a NEW project... you get the picture.

Our most recent home improvement project is a total gut of our basement bathroom. Which, as they all do, starts off with a set of plans. Generally MY plans. But since his motto is also 'go big or go home', those plans are usually tanked early on as Himself decides that 'while we're in here...' we might as well DO ALL OF THIS TOO! Kill me now.

It took all of a day before I heard, "Let's make the bathroom bigger! Since we're in here..." And then, "Let's knock out this whole back wall to the laundry area so we gain room back there! I can just move the laundry over there... Since we're in here..."

And that's what he did... the washer/dryer got moved. And he took out the entire back wall of the bathroom, now exposing our Water Treatment Centre (what I call the area where the pressure pump, water softener, water heater etc lives) and washer/dryer. He plans to replace the wall once the new shower is in place. *if I was a praying woman.... this would be where I'd start*

He then decided it would be a fabulous idea to install those heat coil things under the new tile floor. Because evidently, our teenagers require a warm floor under their delicate little feet while peeing. The ball and chain has to sit with her cloven hooves resting on a freezing cold bathroom floor upstairs, but hey - as long as his strapping teenage sons have warm feet, life is good.

This bathroom is in the basement. On a cement slab floor. Which means that in order to install this heated flooring system, we needed to dig up the cement where the coils will go. Or something. All I know is the next thing I knew a concrete cutter saw arrived in my house. Himself warned me that it required 'a bit of water' over the blade to keep the dust down. I envisioned a little trickle of water where we needed to cut. No biggie. Let me just grab a Kleenex to wipe that up when you're done.

The next thing I know, he's hooking a bloody GARDEN HOSE up to the saw. Umm? And says, "You're in charge of the shopvac so just start sucking the water up as I cut!" as he revs the saw. WTF???? I grab the shopvac just as the water begins POURING from the hose while the saw is now grinding at full speed, cutting into the concrete and sending a concrete slurry flying ALL OVER MY DAMN BASEMENT! *reminder about the NON EXISTENT BACK WALL* Within seconds, the back spray from the saw had colored my washer/dryer GRAY. Our blue pressure pump? NOT SO BLUE ANYMORE. I'm yelling at him, 'Don't you think we should... you know.. COVER EVERYTHING FIRST, YOU IDIOT?!!!!!" as I'm now up to my ankles in a swirling gray pool of water, working that shopvac like a $2 whore. Oblivious to the complete chaos and destruction around him, like a little kid with a new toy, he was almost giggling with glee. *Vrooom! VROOOOOOM!*

When all was said and done, I kid you not, he emptied that vacuum canister (it's the big, industrial one) no less than 6 times. My basement looked like the morning after Mt. St. Helen's erupted. And the 3'x9' hole he dug out of the concrete floor and exposed the dirt? Overnight it became a 3'x9' open air LITTER BOX for my 2 cats. And with the back wall of the bathroom... gone... it's a free for all in the 'let's shit in the floor!' department. Ooooh someone please just hand me a gallon of arsenic and straw....

After a couple of days of smelling cat turds in my basement (SERIOUSLY??!)... I got the boys to drag in some big boards to cover the hole and thus, end the crapalooza.

And in the meantime? Himself has been distracted by some other sparkly project elsewhere. Leaving me with ironically... a hole the size of a GRAVE in my old bathroom floor....

Just sayin'...

Making it ALL about ME.

As it should be... ...WHAT...

Yesterday was my 20th anniversary (see how I made that all about me?), my dh's birthday (not for lack of trying, I've yet to make that about me), and my inlaws anniversary (ew... no desire to go there), I cooked our Thanksgiving turkey last night.

Normally, I do the bird on the Monday, or actual Thanksgiving holiday. Which means all weekend I'm stressing and obsessing about ensuring the house is clean for the inlaws coming over, that I've picked the right side dishes, how will I set the table... and all things OCD-ish. And that means my weekend generally SUCKS. Because the icing on top of my 3 days of stressing (obsessing) is that final day of NOTHING BUT COOKING. Where, by the time the last dish has hit the table, I really want nothing to do with any of it.

After getting the big dinner out of the way last night I realized - I'M AN IDIOT. All these years I've dreaded Thanksgiving w/e simply because of the stress. (I realize several decades of therapy would probably have helped) But today - the Sunday of Thanksgiving w/e - The Dinner is out of the way. It's leftovers for the rest of the w/e and everyone loves those as much as the original dinner. And I get to chill and RELAX. And not even cook! Win-win.

From this moment forward, ALL Thanksgiving dinners will be taking place on the Saturday of the Thanksgiving w/e. FOREVERMORE.

I've also announced that we'll be having our Christmas dinners on Christmas Eve, rather than Christmas Day, as we've always done. Instead of Mom spending all of Christmas Day slaving in the hot kitchen and missing out on all the fun, it'll be leftovers to pick at whenever hungry. SO much nicer!

Why the hell did no one send me the memo about this idea YEARS ago??? I'm hurt. And crushed. And plotting to get each and every one of you, who've been doing this behind my back and not sharing - BACK.

So... what did we learn today?

My 'thing' as it were... is to play with power tools. LOVE the power tools. My husband however, does not love that I love his power tools. So my modus operandi is generally to wait until he's out of town for a few days. And then make my move and hope to god I don't cut off a limb. I've gotten so many projects done this way. There's such satisfaction in knowing that I did it myself. And lived to tell about it!

So this week, my hubby and his father were going out of town together for 3 days. Within seconds of hearing of the plan, I had my own already percolating in my mind. The basement closet. I HATE IT. It's USELESS. It clearly needs to go. And since hubby has been cleaning out a commercial building we own about an hour away from where we live, and bringing mostly CRAP home... I'd found in that, a wooden kind of double locker thing that I wanted to stain and put where the closet currently exists. WHOOO HOOO! A plan!!! I LOOOOOVE a plan. That involves power tools...

As soon as they left the driveway this morning, I was in RENO MODE. lmao I did a grocery run so I wouldn't have to leave the house for anything while I worked. Then came home and got ready.

Matt had his friend Ryan over working on his computer, and within minutes of the first 'BASH, BANG!' sound, the 3 teenage boys were at my side, begging for their turn to bash the closet walls in.

WHOO HOOO! 3 guys over 6' tall ready to do my work for me? HELLOOOOOOO?! Mama's no idiot. I handed them each a hammer, grabbed the camera to document the mayhem, warned them to be careful and we were off!! HOLY CRAP those guys can destroy something FAST! ROFL!

The 'before pic' of what the closet looked like. Totally useless and I've wanted it gone for years.

Can you SMELL the testosterone?? lolol

Annnnnd that's when things took a turn. Annnnnnd we spent over 3 hours in the ER.

Corey friggin took a huge swipe at a strip of corner bead (metal) and his 'enormous strength' bent the strip so it snapped back and sliced his hand. Wide open. About an inch from his surgery scar when he broke the hand last winter. Blood everywhere. 4 sutures later... FOR THE LOVE OF GAWD.

But when we finally dragged our sorry selves back home - look!!! Matt had gotten a huge head start on the cleanup! WITHOUT MY ASKING HIM! It was a HUGE MESS when we tore out of here with blood everywhere and me thinking Corey may have julienned a tendon. So after all that happened, I was really appreciative of this. :-) Maybe there's hope for him after all. lol


Note to self.... when teenage boys ask to help DESTROY SOMETHING. Politely decline. The testosterone surge is impossible to contain. And it's not going to end well. Apparently.

This raising kids ain't for sissies...

So the 16 yr old man-child has had his learner's permit since June... but because his father and I are completely incompetent (and probably unconsciously just stalling), we've never gotten around to getting our insurance amended so that he can legally drive the car.

Until today. When I realized that if he can't drive, he may never leave home. And I was on the horn to our insurance agent to try and figure out a way to get this taken care of. It seems that my husband (who is the legal owner on the papers, and is the only one who can change the insurance) is either never home during their business hours, or is home but forgets to deal with it.

I asked to speak to a woman I know and who's son has been one of my son's friends since they were in kindergarten. I knew if anyone could help me, it would be her. Our conversation went something like this:

Me - Hi J! We REALLY need to get the insurance changed on the Escape or Matt will never be driving. What can we do? Do I need Bill to sign something over to me? What...?

J - *lowers voice* "How well can you forge his signature?"

Me - HA HA! "Pretty good! Can I do that?"

J - As long as he's okay with it, and I know he is because we've spoken about it. So sure! I'll get the paperwork done and you just need to pop down here this afternoon and 'sign' everything!

(can I get a WHOOO-AH! for living in a BFE small town?!)

So I did. And now the 'L' (learners) magnet is stuck to the back of my car and the kid is chomping at the bit to get behind the wheel. We're heading out shortly. I'm slightly nauseous.

My 14 yr old son has said his goodbyes. And wants to know where any important papers might be. And what can he eat for dinner in case, you know... we don't make it back. Actually, he's just amended that to wanting me to make dinner BEFORE we head out for a drive. Such a sensitive child. And so MALE. GAWD.

One kid is gonna kill me and the other one is gonna make me glad he did.

Exploring other cultures.

Greetings from Clampett Mountain! Our water supply kacked on Friday, leaving us waterless. Or, as my kids are calling it - Amish. We're on a well, with a pump that sends the well water up the hill to a large holding tank, which then gravity feeds to our house. In the basement is another pump to provide adequate water pressure to all the taps/showers in the house. After it's been routed thru a 'bladder tank' of some sort (hey, it's all Greek to me) and then a softener and filtration system to rid the water of all the iron and other crap that the well water contains. It's more complicated to get water to our upstairs ensuite bathroom toilet than it is to get the space shuttle launched.

The boys seem to be enjoying this Amish life, getting a huge kick out of getting to pee in the bush. I tried it once, ended up with a stick up my pooper (I kid you not, I'm still tender...), and immediately announced that the GIRL IN THE HOUSE will not be partaking of the bush action. The Amish are nuts. I've since discovered that a rather excellent way of dealing with this is to pee into a ziploc baggie much like one would when giving a urine specimen, then pouring the contents into the bush and disposing of the baggie. Thus saving my tender butt AND the extra creek water to pour/flush the toilet. The Amish must buy a lot of baggies. Oversharing? It's how I roll.

Last night, just so we could experience full immersion into the Amish way of life, our power went out for 2 hours. Suddenly, when ripped from the company of the 'friends' that live in their computers, the boys lost their appreciation for All Things Amish. And were all up in my face about "WHY?? WHY ARE WE BEING PUNISHED?? DID WE KILL TINY KITTENS IN A PREVIOUS LIFE?? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???!!!!"

Watching them stumble around without all the conveniences of their usual daily lives was fascinating. It was like watching a baby elephant learn to walk. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXe0064jY7M&feature=fvst But unlike the mother elephant, who so sweetly and protectively helps guide her little guy into his new world, I much prefer the 'sit back and laugh my ass off' principle of parenting. It was better than any Reality TV that's on right now!

Understanding the intricacies of the male teenage brain.

Equal to, yet not limited to, the size of the lobe in the female brain that controls the desire to SHOP, lays the lobe in the male teenage brain that controls GAMING. Specifically computer gaming.

The main difference however, is that well hidden in the female brain is a tiny, yet powerful area that allows the female to retain enough common sense and intelligence during frenzied activity in the Shopping Lobe, to multitask. We can be trying on 7 different pairs of shoes at one time with one eye, while simultaneously checking out both the bag AND jewelry areas of the store with the other eye. As if that's not impressive enough, while all this is going on, we're also figuring out how much this is all going to cost, where we'll hide everything, and how we can divvy up the final bill and spread it over several credit cards and/or accounts. It's an art. Hold your applause.

Fortunately for Mom's, teenage boys don't possess any of these skills (yet... oh who am I kidding?! Few grown men possess these either!) and trying to slip one by us just isn't going to happen. Their Gaming Lobe is so huge that the only other functioning areas left in their brains are the Eat Lobe, the Sleep Lobe, and the Sex Lobe. Not necessarily in that order. There's no room for common sense. And even less room for covering their tracks. They'd make lousy wild animals.

Which explains why, when I tell him that his computer needs to be off at midnight (and I check to make sure it is), and he's told VERY CLEARLY that the computer is to REMAIN OFF all night... I'm going to know if he snuck it back on the very second I went to bed.

Note to teenage son - if you get back up and go back on your computer, remember that I am female, hear me roar! And when I go into your room in the morning and find the speaker light ON (after I turned it off last night), and your microphone moved from the SPECIFIC POSITION I PLACED IT SO I'D KNOW IF YOU WERE BACK ON IT... you're totally busted. And don't bother trying that again because the modem has just become my new roomie at night.

The moral of this story is DON'T MESS WITH A WOMAN.

Learn it. Remember it. And never, EVER forget it. Or you'll never survive when you hit the real world.

I'm in such good hands.

We have 2 female cats. It was the only way I could get some estrogen balance in this house. One is very small but with a huge attitude. The other is bigger, arrived here as a stray and was probably abused before she found us because she's afraid of her own shadow and anyone other than our family.

The little one is a hunter extraordinaire. She'd take a deer down if given the chance. We should have named her Geraldine, after Flip Wilson's character of many years ago... anyone remember her? My kids think I'm just making her up. LOVED Geraldine! Gracie is SO Geraldine. If she could talk, she'd be throwing 'What you see, is what you get Honey!' all over the place. Serious. Attitude.

Attitude that means anything she catches, she feels a very strong need to bring inside, drop at our feet and then (I swear to god), she'll give a toss of her little head and strut off with her fluffy tail straight up in the air. As if to say 'THERE. Consider my room and board - PAID IN FULL. Beyotch'.

Apparently she doesn't have a calendar, because last night she brought in a big, fat, juicy mouse. Which, until she dropped it downstairs and IT RAN AWAY, I didn't realize was still alive. IT RAN AWAY. IN MY HOUSE. I called my two, over 6' tall teenage boys to come help me get this damn mouse. C - the 14 yr old and youngest - yawned and went back to his computer game. I guess he'd rather slay virtual monsters. Thanks honey - you're the best. M - the 16 yr old, decided he was going to be my hero and 'deal with' the mouse. YAY! He loves me and will protect me. I'm doing something right! The mouse ended up cornered so while M grabbed a fireplace tool (umm??) to slay the dragon, I chased the mouse out of where he was hiding.

Well it all happened so fast. The mouse came scurrying out of the corner, M began alternately smashing at it with the fireplace tool and jumping up and down, squealing like a little girl. I started laughing and couldn't stop. The mouse, with the fireplace tool hitting the floor repeatedly inches behind it while the 6'1" man/child continued to leap into the air and squeal 'Will it bite me?!', managed to make it behind the freezer without getting whacked. Annnnnnd that was the last we saw of him. For all I know, he's brought the wife and kids in. Not like there's any threat to them in here. Safe haven for rodents, that's what we are. The boy's bedrooms are both downstairs and my big, strong 16 yr old hero was so freaked out that the mouse might end up in his bed that he had his bedroom door firmly closed all night. He still hasn't come out.

Good to know I'm in such good hands. I feel so protected.

Avocado Salsa

Okay let's face it... most kids (and by 'kids', I mean anyone under the age of 25) are more into grazing and grabbing a bite, than they are to slaving over a hot stove to create a masterpiece of a 6 course meal. Much like I do every night. For my beloved family. ... riiiiight... So while I will be adding plenty of easy and quick main course recipes, let's just get real and give 'em what they want. This salsa is easy, and just involves some chopping. If you have friends over - hand them each a knife, an ingredient, and put them to work! Learn to involve your friends in the kitchen. It makes for some great social time! So if, when you're much older and the only one in the kitchen slaving away while everyone else is enjoying the fun and frivolity elsewhere, DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU. And one word - POTLUCK. Potluck dinners (where each person brings a prepared dish to contribute to the table) are your friend when just starting out. I'll be posting lots of great potluck-friendly dishes too.

Avocado Salsa:

4 ripe tomatoes, remove inner seeds and chop into small piece

3 ripe avocadoes (they're ripe when you gently push into the stem end and it's a bit soft), chiopped fine

1/4 cup finely chopped purple onion (you can use a yellow or white onion if you prefer)

1/2 cup finely chopped feta cheese

2 cloves garlic, skins removed and finely chopped

handful of chopped cilantro

1 lime - juice squeezed out (you can also use a few squirts of bottled lime juice - keeps avocado from turning brown)

1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt (regular salt is fine. Kosher just has a flakier texture and tends to stick to the food better and distribute more evenly. It also has about 25% less sodium in it than regular salt)

Mix everything in a bowl and serve with tortilla chips. This is also good with an added splash of Balsamic vinegar - tho it will turn the salsa a bit darker. Chopped, pitted black olives is also a nice addition. Some finely chopped cabbage will add a nice crunch. Learn to use your imagination! Cooking is NOT a perfect science. The more you experiment and make recipes your own, the more you'll learn to love cooking!

If there are any leftovers, when covering with plastic wrap, push plastic down to cover the top of salsa like a skin. That helps keep the avocado from discoloring.

I think..

I think it's my job as my boy's Mom to ensure that they have some basic survival skills when they leave home. Now if only I can get them to listen to all my Yoda-ness, I'll have totally bagged it. Yeah - wishful thinking. But DAMMIT I'm trying!

I think when I left home at 18 I was totally unprepared for life on my own. My Mom thought she was doing me a favor by 'taking care of me' so well. Umm... I lived on Minute Rice mixed with Cheez Whiz for months. And ketchup. Ketchup's a vegetable.. She loved me 'too' much... I miss her. :-(

I think it's entirely possible to raise kids with much (sometimes twisted... okay LOTS of twisted) humor, a respect for others, acceptance of differences, generosity of spirit and kindness of soul. I'm still working on the work ethic, cleanliness of space (that's a polite way of saying their rooms would be condemned if I didn't let my inner Badass out occasionally), and the 'love thy sibling' portions of Raising Children 101.

I think a little old-fashioned chivalry will never die. To open a door, take her coat, walk with a hand on the small of her back... that ROCKS. I don't care what anyone says. Being a gentleman is never out-dated.

I think we've done our kids a disservice by always putting them first. We've managed to create an entire population of young adults who feel the world owes them something. I'm not sure why a generation of women fell into that trap.. Fortunately I preceded the whole trend, never feeling my kids SHOULD be put first all the time. I've had no problem taking 'me' time when I needed it, or denying them something because I just didn't 'feel like it'. It's good to be unpredictable like that.

I think getting older sucks. (just throwing that out there)

I think, despite all my claims to the contrary, I'm going to be an 'ugly cry' mess in 2 yrs when my eldest son graduates from highschool. I also think he's going to be mortified. Oh well..

I think by the time our youngest graduates in 3 yrs, my husband and I will have to contain our excitement. *cue crocodile tears* NOT that we love him any less, but hey - once you've survived the first bird leaving the nest... it's gotta get easier, right?! And we'll have that taste of empty nestness (yes, I make up my own words when I feel like it. You have been warned.) and will be looking forward to it!

I think... I'll write more later.

Chocolate Raspberry Dream Cakes!

Okay, this is a knock-down favorite summer dessert around this house. It's also ridiculously easy to make and definitely a recipe the boys can take with them to impress a date one day! (that would be a date with a nice girl that involves lots of fun, stimulating conversation, respect and after properly meeting her parents and NOT honking the horn of the damn car in the driveway to summon her outside. Just starting with a little advice right off the bat... sorry, it's involuntary. Like breathing and yelling at them to get out of bed.)

Ingredients:

- 1 package miniature sponge cakes (with the 'dip' in the middle of each cake, usually come in a package of 6, which will make 3 cakes)

- fresh raspberries (as many as you need, can substitute strawberries, blueberries etc)

- can of whipped cream

- can of prepared icing (can substitute any flavor you wish)

- chocolate ice cream topping/syrup (again - can substitute flavors)

Place 1 mini sponge cake on each small plate. Spritz some whipped cream into the indent. Top with some raspberries. Spritz a little more whipped cream on top of those. Don't go crazy!

Place 2nd mini sponge cake - upside down - on top. Flat side up to encase the filling in the middle.

Using flat knife, spread around the sides and top of little cakes with the icing.

You can leave them in the fridge at this point if you like. Extra whipped cream should be added just before serving.

Just before serving, spritz some more whipped cream on the top of each cake. Top with a few more raspberries. Drizzle with chocolate syrup. If you want to get fancy, you can spritz little rosettes around the base of each cake. Not necessary, I'm just anal like that.

Disclaimer!

Before I go all crazy-like posting recipes here that may or may not get copied by others, I should make it clear that not all of them are of my own conception. Many are completely taken from other sources. Which I will give credit for when I can. Some are ones I have tweaked to suit our own family tastes. I can only take credit for original composition, with my kids. Those, I'm pretty sure I created the ingredients for. Though I'm pretty sure certain specific ingredients such as 'I have no idea where all those clothes on my floor came from' and 'failure to return the bathmat to the side of the tub after showering' came from their father.

Also? As a sidenote - I follow lots of food bloggers who use pictures to document every. single. step. of preparing a recipe. I will not be doing that here. Mostly because I'm far too lazy. And because I know that if my kids are reading it, I'll have lost them by photo #2. The whole process will seem utterly daunting. So in order to keep things simple around here, I will try to ensure that there's a photo of the finished product. I can handle that.