The Chicken Wing is Always Greener

I grew up looking like a string bean. All I ever wished for on my birthday were boobies and an apple butt (or any butt). I really can eat anything I want and stay pretty skinny. This sounds nice until the teenage me started obsessing on knobby knees and elbows and my best buddy in high school was a very curvy girl named Tara with the most bountiful boobies in the whole school. She lived 3 houses down from me and had a swimming pool. We would invite boys from school over and then lounge around the pool in our skimpiest of string bikinis; I like Ichabod Crane and Tara like Marilyn Monroe. Not really very good for the ol’ ego.

Years later, when I got pregnant with Ella, people said “You look great now that you’ve put on a little weight!” I knew it too. I could see the boobies I’d wished for on every birthday candle growing right before me. The boob fairy finally came. By the time Ella had grown her full 8 pounds in utero I had gained 80. I was hovering right around 200 lbs. and feeling positively voluptuous. It took 2 years to loose my curves. I don’t think I’ll ever be Ichabod Crane thin again, but still thin. The apple butt slid right into apple sauce. The thing is I never really tried; I just chased Ella around the house and the usual. This brings me to “50 Habits of Naturally Thin People” in this months Reader’s Digest.

I don’t even know why I still get this magazine, are the jokes really worth it? This article has some pretty nonrealistic ideas. Let me tell you I NEVER sit in traffic squeezing my buttocks together, I don’t do squats while brushing my teeth and I never wore a 10lb bag of sugar in a back pack while I ran errands. I don’t know any naturally skinny people who would. Mostly I’ve been trying to put on weight my whole life. I got to thinking - what are my habits that might lend to being naturally skinny? I know a few people who are trying to loose and it seems everybody’s looking for the Holy Grail of skinny. So here’s what I came up with.

1) I rarely drink pop and when I do it’s 7up
2) I only eat meat when I can recognize what part of the animal it is, i.e. “yep, that’s a chunk of cow butt”, or “Hey, look a chicken breast, yummy” if it’s ground up there might be a chance I could get a piece of gristle and ruin my appetite for meat for a week.
3) I run up and down the stairs at least 10 times a day because I forgot something
4) When I crave chocolate, I drink hot chocolate (cause it’s the only chocolate that lasts for any amount of time in our house)
5) I bake food (Cause it’s easier to throw it in the oven than to stand over the stove frying)
6) I shiver for 4 months out of every year
7) Sometimes I have just a couple of candy bars for lunch
8) I drink wine often
9) I put garlic on everything
10) I talk with my hands (it’s the Italian in me)

Ok, no doubt somebody is thinking “You stupid wench, I do all those things and I run 4 miles and I eat bird food all day and it’s not working, you don’t know how good you have it.” My answer to them is, I find you irresistible! I look at Queen Latifah and think wow, that’s a great shape! I, like many men, am memorized by cleavage and I really love when a woman has a dimple on her elbow instead of a boney ol’ chicken wing. I adore smooth skin and bigger ladies have it longer than their skinny mummy-like counterparts. I love the look of hips, I mean bountiful hips in tight jeans. So much better than sitting in someone’s lap and hearing them say “your butt bone is digging into my leg, you have to get up.”

Ok, I guess the real message here is we should all be happy that this is a worry in our lives, we could be dealing with worse.

Breakfast at Bombadee's II

Ella salted her own (click on the picture to truly appreciate)

Dance Party

Hey folks hope you like the new digs. If ya don't, you'll just have to wait till spring and see what happens.

Today we will go shopping at all the big box stores. My dear husband sits down every Sunday morning and reads the ads. This is his favorite time of year; the ads are positively suffocating when they fall from the paper into your lap. He’s spent the last hour mapping our plan of attack and clipping coupons. Next we will teach our toddler what to yell when driving behind Slowpoke McFartybutt. Dan will be annoyed at how many people will be aimlessly wandering the aisles at box store, he’ll get downright pissed and I will have to smother the urge to do this.

50%

The party was great. My house was clean when I left (shame on me). We won $100.00 gift certificate for our local farm implement/home improvement store (new hot water heater woo hoo!) I witnessed a disturbing conversation about naked snow angels. It turns out two out of the four men at our table have done them on a dare from their wife. Dan was not one of those two and I secretly felt like I was missing out on something as they described the perfect snow angels with impressions of all the bits and pieces in tact until one fella claimed his snow angel had 'impressions as big as boulder's', he called them ‘jybundus’ really - and so then I had to see him in my head with 'jybundus boulders' between his legs – shudder bleh. I am just happy that my husband gets up and moves the snow off the sidewalk for me. Besides we live in the middle of downtown, the neighbors already see all we do, could you imagine?

On the downside my ears crackle every time I swallow this morning, I think I should’ve stayed in bed. Up side - Ella is slightly better today and eating as we've rediscovered baby food.

Please Have a Bite II

Crappity crap crap. We have an office Christmas Party tonight. Grandpa is coming to baby sit a still snotty Ella. My heart is already squashed with guilt for leaving her. We’ll leave at 5:30 and be home before 9:00. I’ve been fighting with Ella every day to get her to eat even the tiniest bits of food. Normally she’s not a good eater, but honestly I don’t think she can survive on two bites of hot dog and a sip of chocolate milk. I am short-order cooking like crazy and strategically placing various foods around the house to entice Ella to end her hunger strike. I gave her pop today just to get her to drink something. If she isn’t getting better by tomorrow I'll call her Doc again.

I’m not feeling great either, my throat hurts, validating why Ella isn’t eating. There are toys from one end of the house to the other and sinks full of dirty dishes from the unsuccessful toddler diner I am running. I know I should give myself a break and let it go, but Grandpa’s coming tonight and so every cell in me wants to clean before he gets here. This urge to clean has me fighting with myself. I had an ‘aha’ moment reading Half Changed World the other day. I sometimes judge women or feel judged based on the cleanliness of the house. Sit with that for a second. I think of myself as a feminist, but I’ve done it, I’ve judged and fretted about being judged. Why is it not the man’s problem that the house is a mess? Why am I mortified that there are toys all over? I’m sure Dan could give a crap. Am I teaching my daughter this ‘female-specific shame’? How was I not aware of this domestic glass ceiling?

I do think of it as my primary job (cooking, cleaning and raising Ella) but damn it I’m sick and everyone slacks a little right? Especially when their sick.

Help me help you.

I’ve discovered I am not above calling medicine candy. I’ve also discovered the child knows the difference. I think Ella’s pain relievers taste just like sweet tarts; she doesn’t based on the fact that she gagged them back up yesterday. This morning I asked her wants some candy? She nodded and replied “Yeah, can-gee.” I got a pack of sweet tarts out (left from Halloween) and put 3 sweet tarts and two pain relievers in my hand, she knew. I waited an hour, I asked candy? She replied “Can-gee!” with a nod. I got the two cherry flavored pills out again; she said “nah” and went back to playing blocks. I finally remembered how we got the dog to eat her medicine – mush it up into cheese. I didn’t think the cherry flavor would go with the cheese so I mushed them into a couple of tootsie rolls. – Mission Accomplished!

Later we will be drinking the yummy banana flavored antibiotic (the pharmacist claimed most kids like it so much they ask for more – HA!) We will hide it in chawkey mewk (chocolate milk) and we will drink it from wine glasses, toasting each sip until it’s all down. This will be our afternoon ‘toddy’ for the next 9 days. On the bright side, she’s not crabby, green slime is not pouring from her eyes anymore and I only have body aches (no snot) so far.

Rated R for Language

We are going to the Doctor today. Ella woke up with a pot pie for a face, it looked awful. We just finished washing the last of the crust off her face and I'm giving her Coca Cola with Tylenol swished in to it and we are going to have a good soak in the tub before we go. Poor kid. She's even got wax comming out of her ears.

It is 8 below outside. I have cold induced turrets syndrome. Spontaneous cuss words fall out of my mouth between shivers, I can’t help it. I will step outside with Ella in my arms and will walk briskly to the pre-warmed van, I will be muttering between chattering teeth “sh-sh-sh-i-i-i-t! Crap! Son of a crotch-ch-ch-ch its freaking cold… Shit shit shit!” Ella will repeat “Breeking cold mama?” I will say “Yes Ella, its breeking cold, shit-t-t-t-t!”

We've got Germs!

I want to humbly apologize to anyone we’ve been in contact with in the last 4 days. Ella had snot, I thought it was because of her teeth and this morning the snot is gross, she’s definitely got germs. She won’t even eat the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms, much less the fortified crunchy parts. (and after all that ranting about canceling play dates – I should’ve been the one canceling).














12:30 addition - I decided to 'make' her take some Tylenol cold and sinus for babies and I held her down and squeezed the little eye dropper full of cherry flavored syrup into her mouth. She gagged and then barfed it all back up into my lap.

4:30 addition - Yeah for Children's Tylenol Plus Cold & Cough CHEWABLE tablets. They're dangerously similar to sweet tarts. She chowed them down and asked for more. Sorry kid you have to wait four more hours and them I will happily give you more. She’s napping finally and I’m making beef veggie soup for her.

My Phobia Her Snot

My poor Ella is teething. Her eye teeth are coming in and as a consequence she has snot. Lots and lots of snot, we are wallowing in snot here. Here’s the part where I discuss the snot, those of you who are squeamish may want to look away. It’s the kind that is clear and runny, like a river down her little lip. I could spend the day chasing her and wiping her nose every four seconds until her upper lip is raw and red and chapped or I can let it run and she will lick it off the top of her lip with her tongue and wipe it off with her sleeve and her upper lip will get red and chapped and irritated. It’s not really a win-win here, and she won’t let me put any lotion on, it probably stings. She covers her nose and cries “NooooOOOoooo, my boogers!” I need to hold her down and smear her upper lip with cocoa butter.

This is more my phobia about snot than anything else. I was a snotty kid. I had hay fever that always hit at the beginning of the school year, so every school picture from Kindergarten to about fourth grade has me in it looking like a little crack head. My upper lip chapped and red from the endless snot, I would take Benadryl for kids and always looked a little stoned. I’d have the crazy wild hair despite my parent’s morning combing; it only took one summersault or my winter hat to make it look like a muskrat that had gone though the dryer. On top of all that I wore glasses and was hopelessly pale. These photos are a nice reminder of how crunchy crusty and sore my upper lip always was or maybe how miserably unpopular I was.

So you see looking at Ella’s snotty face makes me deeply uncomfortable way down into my psyche uncomfortable. The only comfort I can give Ella (and me) is by holding her down and shoving an eye dropper full of cherry Tylenol into her mouth and then giving her a hot bath and slathering on the cocoa butter all over her face and letting her stay in jammies all day. Later I’ll warm up soup that she won’t eat because her mouth hurts. Arrrg.

One Horse Open Sleigh - kinda

Our town had its little Christmas Walk today. It was 22 degrees worth of fun. The live nativity scene walked down Main Street and the businesses downtown had free sweets and coco. In the time it took me to pour coco Ella snarfed a candy cane that Santa gave her. Whenever she eats something minty she breaths a lot afterwards it cracks me up. A one horse open sleigh gave free rides downtown (only it wasn’t a sleigh it was a carriage and it was closed not open, but hey it was just one horse!). Festivities ended kinda early though – people have to get ready for the Bears vs. Packers Game. I'm glad 'cause my tush is frozen.

Her Very Own WITCH to Hang

I was surprised to find McDonald’s chose to hand out religious figurines in their Happy Meals this Holiday Season. I found it courageous that they would tackle the issue at such a delicate time in our Nation’s ideologue. The evolution vs. creationism debate or the issue of prayer in schools hasn’t stopped McDonalds who stepped right in there throwing caution to the wind saying ‘we don’t care were you are politically or religiously we are choosing this toy to put in our happy meal’. Frankly I was a little surprised there wasn’t much outcry or argument, especially after the decision to pick such a minority religion. Well, bravo McDonalds for having the courage to give Ella her very own W.I.T.C.H. with her Happy Meal to celebrate Winter Solstice. I found the rope that she came with a little odd, was this for lynching ease? Perhaps next time we’ll try and get the one that comes with its very own stake and a match.


McDonalds Happy Meal Toys

Discuss it amongst yourselves

I'm sorry dear readers, I'm swamped this week with the Holidays and whatnots. Here are a few links I meant to blog about, I've decided that I'll spare you the rant and just share the links.

• Plagiocephaly (Listed under causes, extended time in car seat, swing, bouncy seats. Pick your kid up once in a while, DUH!)
• Internet Down Movie
• America's Next Top Reality Show I will be recording EVERY episode
• Swimwear you can chase a toddler in
• Check out Matthew Ames's Summer Collection
• Not a Baby Machine by Redneck Mother - freakin' brilliant
• Make a snowflake total fun
• Were I am currently getting my wallpaper
• Memoirs of a Geisha Soap - Not kidding, in case you want to smell like a Sweaty Asian Slave Dancer
• Heartless Bitches International (member since 1993)
• Marry Ellin's Shoulder warmers for Arthritis (Very nice, bought one fore my Mother in law for X-mas - shhh)

Oxfam.Org

Do you wish you could be Oprah? Now you can, buy someone a camel for Christmas (Oxfam UK) or Buy books to help 10 girls in Afghanistan read and write (Oxfam USA)

Damn Paparazzi

I got an early Christmas Present from Dan. He bought me another camera, this one is exactly like my old one, only not broken. I love love love it. It definatley gives a better quality to the photos. It has hexagonal pixels instead of square. I tried it out last night, taking pictures of Ella on her trike in her latest crazy ensemble. Did I mention I love it!





















If there is a flash Ella covers her eyes and exlaims "My Eyes! My Eyes!" like she's been poked with a sharp stick. Damn Paparazzi.

P.S. Folks if you plan on doing any shopping this month, do me a favor and read Twisty's rant about The brutalization of Mexican women. Please, it's important.

Pals

My dear pal Tatertot posted her Pal Criteria today and Duchess Jane posted her Dating Requirements. It’s gotten me thinking about my friends. Here’s the thing, I’ve lost a few friends in the past. I don’t mean like we got in a fight and don’t talk anymore, I mean like she was killed in a car accident or he started the car and closed the garage door and went to sleep, or she was raped and strangled in a park. Sad? – Yes extremely. Tramatizing? – Yes extremely. Coincidentally frequent? – Yes, extremely. Consequently, I didn’t make very close friends for a very long time. I was building a monument to friendship celibacy, like a widow. I was determined to make it true that I would NEVER have close friends like that again. A few years into my marriage and a few extremely jealous arguments about Dan spending time with his friends, I had an epiphany, I didn’t have any pals and that was MY problem not anyone else’s.

For a few years now, I’ve been working at being a better friend and keeping in touch with people and making sure that I have pals. It occurred to me this morning when reading both Duchess Jane’s and Tater Tot’s posts that perhaps I should stop amassing friends to prove to myself that I can and lay down some criteria. It’s quality not quantity. Plus I can never pass up the opportunity to make a good list.

The List

• Must like children
• Must respect my choices to raise my child the way I do
  -Don’t freak out when I whip out a breast to feed my kid (similarly I don’t want to have to try and explain breast feeding to your kid at this moment either. That’s for you to explain).
  -You have to be able to stand my messy house, you child will leave all play dates at my house with dog hair on their clothes.
  -Do not give my child a sip of your pop, coffee, chocolate milk or drag off your cigarette without looking to me first.
• Must raise you children similarly, I can’t have my kid witnessing things…
  -If you regularly hit/spank your child
  -If you yell things like “Shut UP! Damn, freakin’ brat!”
  -If the kids only eat after the grown ups (my aunt's in-laws did this, it was a respect thing, and it was weird)
  -If you can’t handle when our kids are both yanking on the same toy (they’ll have to learn to work it out)
• Must respect my time.
  -My family time is sometimes limited and if I plan a date with you, it’s because I really do have to plan it ahead.
  -Broken play dates break my heart every time (unless you kid’s sick, in which case thank you for not passing it along)
  -Please don’t ramble on about whether it was Friday at 10am or Tuesday at 11:15 because if it’s not important to the story I don’t freaking care.
• Please don’t try to spend too much time with me. I get sick of Dan and I LOVE him; I’ll get sick of you even faster if you try to see me every day.
• You must be willing to tell me when I’m wrong, it’s hard to respect someone who kisses your ass
• If you are mad at me, you have to tell me. I don’t get subtle hints
  -I once walked into a meeting late and heard a colleague saying “She does it just to make me mad, I can’t stand it anymore! I’ve repeatedly hinted that it bothers me and she doesn’t even care! Boss, you have to do something about this situation.” I offered “I’ll help, who are we talking about?” colleague turns to me, burst into tears and yells “YOU!” (I had no idea).
• If I ask you what’s wrong and you say “Nothing” I choose to believe you. Please, give me the same courtesy
• Please don’t ever assume that because we are friend that our husbands should be. Mine is a fickle, blunt, crabby, curmudgeon with very little time to spend with his friends and family, he’s likely to tell your husband to his face to go find his own friends.
• Don’t ask me to come to your Tupperware, Candle, Avon party unless we’ve been friends for more than 3 years and you won’t be offended when I don’t buy anything.
  
  
  

Bonus qualities (not required)

• Funny
• Eccentric
• Willing to try new things
• Can suggest fun things to do (to avoid “What do you wanna do?” “I dunno what do you wanna do?”)
• Has own money (I don’t like to pay every time)
• Likes to drink and dance
• My husband likes you too

I’m sure there’s a billion things I missed or am obsessing about that don’t really matter, but Jane was right, that was therapeutic.

The Ballet on Saturday

We went to the cutest little café on the way to the theatre and had turkey wraps and mochas. Ella wanted some whipped crème from the top of Grandma’s mocha so the waitress/barista gave Ella a little cup of whipped crème with sprinkles on top in an espresso cup and saucer and the tiniest little silver spoon. She scarfed it up along with her lunch of cheese, pickles and fruit.














We arrived at the theatre with enough time to take pictures in the lobby, find our seat and get some chocolate covered raisins. The ballet was wonderful; we were able to see guest ballet dancers from the Ballet Florida and Ballet Internationale, it really was magnificent. The soldiers and mice fight in the first act and the soldiers come out riding little horses, Ella was the only child I heard braying. Luckily the music was loud enough; I don’t think it was too noticeable. In the end of that scene the mice are defeated and they all fall down, Ella exclaimed “Oh Noooooo!” this time the audience around us snickered.

















Intermission came and we ventured out into the lobby just to see all the little girls out there rolling around on the floor and spinning circles in their little velvety outfits and slippers, some even wore tiaras. Ella was no exception she danced through intermission until Grandma bought her little ballerina and nutcracker Christmas ornaments then the play turned to spinning the ornaments on the floor.
















Act II started while Ella nursed, it was getting close to nap time for her. This is when I started to get nervous. She sat through most of the second act exclaiming “wow – pity” at all the appropriate oooh and ahh moments so she wasn’t the only loud kid. But then Ella decided it was time to go and started handing Grandma her purse and grabbing our coats. Unfortunately this was right before The Dance of the Sugar Plumb Fairy (my total favorite) I leaned over to Grandma and said “We gotta go.” Grandma said “I’ll meet you in the lobby". (This was the plan if Ella got too fussy). Grandma gathered up coats, purses, gloves, sippy cups and programs. Ella and I walked up the side aisle very slowly so I could take in as much as possible upon our exit. Ella started yelling “MAAAAaaa.”, “’Mon Maaaaaa!” (meaning Grandma! Come on Grandma!). I walked faster to exit and the crowd snickered. We made it to the lobby and later my Mom told me when she stood up to leave with all our coats in tow everyone snickered knowing she was ‘Maaaaa’.




















It was without a doubt a wonderfull afternoon.

Aw Hell Naw!

I went out this evening to kick it old school with my Ladies - The Casseroles. For those of you who are new, that’s my gang, I’m Green Bean Casserole. So Fiesta Pie, Deep Dish, Sweet Potato and the new Casserole (TBA) met me for Sushi and laughs at my favorite restaurant. We dined from 7 to 9:45 when we decided to bring it to the bar next door, we made it half way in when we heard the shitty band and the $5.00 cover and decided instead to go to Starbucks and get hopped up on double Lattes and Cookies. (We’re dangerous chicks).

We told stories about our kids and Thanksgiving and then naturally the talk turned pretty racy. I thought the conversation was totally making the table of teenagers next to us uneasy because they kept glancing over their shoulders at us. They appeared to be 16 or 17… and giggling at us. We realized it was AT us and not WITH us when Fiesta Pie pointed out that 2 or 3 spit wads had been launched our direction. Our wits perked up, these young “hip” teens were totally mocking us. The girls were rolling their eyes and the boy sitting behind TBA would actually lean over and chime in on our conversation every few minutes to be met with fresh giggles at their table.

Aw Hell Naw! NEVER, I repeat never try to embarrass a Casserole – some of us changed at least 2 shitty diapers today and others have fired people smarter than these kids. So TBA leaned way over towards Deep Dish as if Deep Dish were going to tell her a secret, then TBA lifted her leg and farted long and hard in their general direction… Yes, farted very loud… at them. Let me say it again – at them. We cracked up. Moments later they stood up to leave, there were fresh peals of laughter from our table. They slipped out red faced, girlfriends in tow, no longer snickering. TBA will henceforth be known as Soufflé.

Nutcracker

Grandma (my Mom) is taking us to see the Nutcracker today at this theatre. We are going to have a long bath and put on our tights and velvet and slippers very soon. When Grandma gets here we'll go have dainty little salads and coffee and chocolate milk at a local cafe and then off we go to see the ballerinas! Let's hope Ella enjoys it enough to stay in her seat.

(more pics to follow)

5:10 update: Wonderful, just wonderful!

Savin' it for Later

Yesterday, Ella didn’t nap. She was getting crabby so I offered a bribe - a Tootsie-pop lollypop (her favorite) in exchange for happy sticky girl. Midway through the lollypop she needed two hands to get a sip of milk so she carefully balanced the lollypop on the top of her head, took her sip and then retrieved the lollypop and put it back in her mouth.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving, a story in pictures ('cause frankly I'm tired).

Now seating 14











Waiting for guests















The Kiddie Table















The Grown Ups



























Gotta have Turkey and Cranberry Sauce

















What a mess














Ella relaxing




















Dan relaxing



















Jenny Relaxing

Menu:

• Turkey
• Ham
• Green Bean Casserole
• Stuffing (homemade)
• Scalloped Corn
• Mashed Potatoes
• Gravy
• Sweet Potatoes
• Home made Bread
• Acorn Squash
• Spaghetti Squash
• Butternut Squash
• Relish tray (dill pickles, sweet pickles, black olives, green olives, pickled beats)
• Homemade Dill dip and veggies (carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, celery)
• Orange Salad (I could live on this alone)
• Mince Meat Pie
• Sweet Potato Pie w/ Jack Daniels Sauce & homemade whipped cream
• Pecan Pie & cool whip
• Pumpkin Pie (2)
• Coffee
• Before Dinner Cocktails (Cosmopolitan, Martini, Kahlua & Creme, Brandy & Cranberry Juice, Beer (MGD, Miller High Life, Leinenkugels Dark) Jack & Cokes)
• Pinot Grigio (2)
• Chardonnay
• Milk
• Iced Tea
• Brandy & Egg Nog

Did I take any pictures of all this fab food - no, I'm a dork.