- Ice cube trays. I cannot seem to work an ice cube tray. There are always 1 - 2 ice cubes that won't come out or come out broken. And that's when I remember to fill the tray up. I never put it back in empty but putting it back with 1 cube is not unusual and then I'm super irritated that I don't have more ice the next time.
- Raking. I honestly don't understand what muscles raking uses and why I obviously don't use them in ANY other chore or daily activity. How can they be so unused?!? I can push mow my very large back yard and it's a workout but I cannot seem to rake for more than 5 minutes (ok closer to 3).
Showing posts with label L. Show all posts
Showing posts with label L. Show all posts
Friday, June 10, 2011
Two Things I Am Not Good At
Lately I've been trying to remind myself that I don't have to be good at everything. I need to focus on my strengths and slowly work on my weaknesses as I can but really try not to let the weaknesses overwhelm me. So here goes...here are two things I am not good at:
Friday, May 13, 2011
The Dreaded Photo Post
OK I blame no one for refusing to wait for this page to download and moving on. If you're still interested here are the 1000 most recent photos of my legume.
Peanut is all about hiding right now. We recently moved around our living room furniture and now there is a perfect place to hide behind the couch. Peanut loves it.
Chick-fil-a is one of the best food places for kids. We haven't been in quite a while but this is Peanut in a random hat he found in the cubbies. Yea for not contracting lice!
Yes that's a cowboy hat. He also has real boots we actually paid for. I'm as surprised as you that I'm ok with this, but come on, we live in Oklahoma.
Who doesn't have a picture of their baby in a laundry basket?
Yea summer is almost here! Old Navy flip flops make me happy.
A picture missed in the Science Museum post. Mad Scientist anyone?
This is what happens when the house is too quiet. Ewwwwwww!
Coloring eggs for Easter with Aunt Wendy. He made amazingly few messes, however all his eggs were cracked.
The Saturday before Easter on our way to Aunt Josie we had to stop for eggs etc. Peanut love grocery store horses and luckily most around here are free of way cheap.
Surprise. Not just plastic eggs to hunt for..these have candy!
Peanut and I already have to compromise about his clothing. This vest is often the compromise. I get to pick out weather appropriate clothing and he puts the vest on top.
So I make an 18 month old play outside in the backyard with only the dogs for company...and I baby gate him out...and I force him to show me his dirty hands so I can take a picture before I let him in...your point?
It's not on!
Wouldn't be a picture post without a naked picture.
A couple of weekends ago we went to the Renaissance Fair with Tio Kit. It was great fun!
At said Renaissance Fair, Peanut drinking a ridiculous amount of homemade root beer and cream soda mixed.
After said Renaissance Fair the two boys, all tuckered out.
Once again, the house gets too quiet while L is doing laundry. She returns to find the Peanut here. He won't get out. She takes out dry laundry and puts in cold wet laundry. He is not deterred. Should she start it?
This used to be an entire loaf of homemade bread. This is what happens when Peanut gets his own breakfast.
A couple days ago a zoo trip with L, Peanut, Grammie, Rachel, Cal, Madi, Katie Mae and Aunt Em:
Cousins
The gorilla loves Peanut.
Hiding off the path the second L turns her back.
A much needed water break in the middle of the zoo trip.
A Peanut and his Bapa.
There you go. More pictures in one post than most of us born before 2000 have for our entire lives.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
I was going to...
This morning I was going to post a grumpy note I've been marinating inside for a while but then I had a random dream about me failing drama and getting into a fist fight in the boys locker room. This led me to thinking about the people in the dream (who didn't look like themselves but I knew who they were anyway, you know??) and then I remembered this experience. And I told myself, "No one will care about or read your well-marinated rant anyway so why not share this tiny experience and bask in the joy that you don't have to be this person or have these experiences anymore."
When I was a young L, I was awkward. Especially around boys who liked me. For some reason a boy liking me, instead of bringing joy or increased confidence, brought severe awkwardness and stress and, quite often, for some reason, meanness. This wasn't one of those mean times but everything else holds true.
Young L has been told by her friend that a boy (lets call him Dance, Dance Revolution) will be calling her tonight to ask her out. L is unhappy. You see she likes this boys friend, not DDR, and doesn't want to go out with him. At the same time she realizes that DDR is not asking her to marry him, or wear his pin or even to go steady (so what if I want to imagine this experience in the 50's?) he just wants to take her out on one date so they can get to know each other and that could be fun, so long as her awkwardness doesn't get in the way.
Anyway so...DDR calls. However instead of getting strait to the point, he starts talking. And talking. And talking. He's just chatting away. This might have been an effective strategy if L's friend hadn't already told her why he was calling (all hes and shes clear here?). Instead of calming L, this makes it worse as L tries to keep up light, friendly conversation while at the same time growing more and more anxious about him getting to the point. To help ease off some of the stress L begins walking around the pool in her backyard as she talks.
The rhythm of her steps seems to beat in time with her level of anxiety. When DDR succeeds in distracting L with some comment, her steps slow, becoming almost strolling. When she remembers why she's out her at all her pace quickens until she is moving quite rapidly, never actually running because for some reason she assumes he would know if she did. Eventually it seems like he might be winning, L's pace is slowing and if her 3 nosy sisters are spying, they will have heard her laugh several times. L stops close to the large green exercise ball floating near the edge of the pool.
For some reason that could only be explained by years of intense study into L's young brain, the size of the green balls distracts from it's placement and L leans on it slightly as she talks. DISASTER! L is now trying to swim, with one arm holding her cell phone out of the water, to the shallow end of the pool. She makes it and then must explain to DDR what all the commotion is- all the time laughing hysterically, because although L excels at being awkward (thoroughly noted in this story), she is also usually pretty good at laughing at herself when occasion demands.
L tells DDR what happened and then sits on the steps of the pool to finish her conversation. After all she's already soaking wet in her dress she might as well stay in the comfort of the water. DDR strangely doesn't seem as amused by this experience. In fact, he seems a little weird-ed out.
I don't even remember whether the date actually happens but if so it's certainly the last one. DDR never calls again. Let us all give thanks L doesn't have to date anyone but her Ox anymore. Amen.
When I was a young L, I was awkward. Especially around boys who liked me. For some reason a boy liking me, instead of bringing joy or increased confidence, brought severe awkwardness and stress and, quite often, for some reason, meanness. This wasn't one of those mean times but everything else holds true.
Young L has been told by her friend that a boy (lets call him Dance, Dance Revolution) will be calling her tonight to ask her out. L is unhappy. You see she likes this boys friend, not DDR, and doesn't want to go out with him. At the same time she realizes that DDR is not asking her to marry him, or wear his pin or even to go steady (so what if I want to imagine this experience in the 50's?) he just wants to take her out on one date so they can get to know each other and that could be fun, so long as her awkwardness doesn't get in the way.
Anyway so...DDR calls. However instead of getting strait to the point, he starts talking. And talking. And talking. He's just chatting away. This might have been an effective strategy if L's friend hadn't already told her why he was calling (all hes and shes clear here?). Instead of calming L, this makes it worse as L tries to keep up light, friendly conversation while at the same time growing more and more anxious about him getting to the point. To help ease off some of the stress L begins walking around the pool in her backyard as she talks.
The rhythm of her steps seems to beat in time with her level of anxiety. When DDR succeeds in distracting L with some comment, her steps slow, becoming almost strolling. When she remembers why she's out her at all her pace quickens until she is moving quite rapidly, never actually running because for some reason she assumes he would know if she did. Eventually it seems like he might be winning, L's pace is slowing and if her 3 nosy sisters are spying, they will have heard her laugh several times. L stops close to the large green exercise ball floating near the edge of the pool.
Side story: For Christmas the previous year, L's younger sister, HB, wanted and asked for: not the most expensive present, or the coolest present but the biggest present. Yes folks that's what she wanted- the largest present under the Christmas tree, she didn't care what. L's father searched high and low (or more likely just looked around on the internet) and found the perfect thing: an exercise ball. Not just the regular sized one but a huge one. Honestly, it must have been 5 feet in diameter (remember that's one side to the other, radius would have been from the center to one side- just trying to resurrect some long ago geometry knowledge). HB was happy.
Additional note: L, in the way of most snaiLs, is not large. Let's say top height of 5'3".
For some reason that could only be explained by years of intense study into L's young brain, the size of the green balls distracts from it's placement and L leans on it slightly as she talks. DISASTER! L is now trying to swim, with one arm holding her cell phone out of the water, to the shallow end of the pool. She makes it and then must explain to DDR what all the commotion is- all the time laughing hysterically, because although L excels at being awkward (thoroughly noted in this story), she is also usually pretty good at laughing at herself when occasion demands.
L tells DDR what happened and then sits on the steps of the pool to finish her conversation. After all she's already soaking wet in her dress she might as well stay in the comfort of the water. DDR strangely doesn't seem as amused by this experience. In fact, he seems a little weird-ed out.
I don't even remember whether the date actually happens but if so it's certainly the last one. DDR never calls again. Let us all give thanks L doesn't have to date anyone but her Ox anymore. Amen.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Be Grateful There Aren't Pictures
I am serious about that title. Please stop for a moment and send thanks to me that there are not pictures accompanying this post. Moving on...
This story begins with L's father-in-law being nice. L doesn't get to the Temple for her church very often due to a lot of miss-prioritizing and a little legume we like to call Peanut. Anyway L's father-in-law arranges for L to do a session at the Temple on Wednesday while he watches the 'Nut outside. Problem solved. L is excited.
However, on Tuesday Peanut is a little clingy in the morning and after being up for about a half hour he vomits twice in the living room. It's not a big deal, especially since he hasn't eaten anything yet and as he has been having problems with allergies L chalks it up to that appealing-sounding sinus drainage. She watches what he eats all day and isn't overly concerned.
Wednesday he's still not back to normal but not even any vomit. L's sister, from here on out to be known as 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever', comes over and dyes eggs with L and 'Nut and much fun is had. Although 'Nut seems mostly back to normal L determines she doesn't want him running around too much outside yet so has Ox take off work early to watch the 'Nut and she heads on down to the Temple. 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' watches the 'Nut for the few minutes between L having to leave and Ox getting home.
On the drive to the Temple (approx. 70 miles/1 hr 15 mins) L realizes she hasn't eaten since lunch and won't get dinner until late. Well...life happens. However, after L gets to the temple her stomach starts hurting. Then aching. Then grinding and twisting into a tornado of pain. This eases into a wave of nausea. L is sitting through the approx. hour and a half session alternately praying to NOT VOMIT IN THE TEMPLE!!! and wondering what would happen if she did. Probably not a lot of quality worshiping.
After the session is over L rushes to the bathroom fully intent on vomiting but nothing happens. The nausea diminishes and the pain becomes bearable. Maybe God loves L because she stoically endured under pressure? L would be proud if she wasn't in such a rush to get home. So starts the 'short earlier this afternoon and now unbelievably long' trip home.
L drives down the freeway trying to decide if it's better to be distracted at a higher speed or for a longer time. If she vomits on a cop will that get her out of a ticket or into jail as he will surely not believe she's not drunk? Being a planner L starts to look around for what she could vomit into should such a situation arise... Ahh thanks to L and Ox's slovenly ways here is a WhataBurger bag within reach. Problem solved. L even calls her Ox to make sure he will still love her if she fills their car with vomit. He responds positively but hints that love will not extend to cleaning vomit from car upholstery.
And then it happens. Uncontrollable Vomit. Left hand on the steering wheel, looking over the right shoulder to change lanes and pull safely off the freeway, right hand holding the WhataBurger bag to her face to catch pulsing streams of something hot and rancid. Almost to the side...almost safe...then the WhataBurger bag disintegrates under a burden it was never meant to bear. Suddenly things have gone from bad to worse.
***Pause to calm yourself... She doesn't get eaten by the eels at this time.***
As we return to the scene L is safely off to the side of the freeway. However the gratitude that should be forthcoming is mired in the vomit covering: L, her lap, her seat belt, her center console, her gear shift, the right side of her car seat, a small section of the passenger seat...
If the world were fair L would be immediately transported to her own bathroom to get cleaned up and then pampered by her loving husband. Alas the would is not fair and L is still over 45 minutes from home. Calling Ox results in sympathy but no logical quick fix. So L calls 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever'. 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' immediately agrees to meet L at a gas station about 2 miles from L's current location.
'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' meets L at the gas station and sends L into the bathroom with her own back up clothes. L ignores the horrified look of the attendant. While L cleans herself up and seeks to wedge herself into her sister's much smaller clothes, 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' uses a half carton of baby wipes to clean L's car better than could be ever imagined. L comes out (with a resolve to think on thigh and tummy fat at some later point), buys a water and thanks 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' in an inadequate way. 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' heads into the city for a date/night out (with her friend who has been sitting horrified in her car the ENTIRE time) smelling of someone else's vomit. She truly is amazing.
And so L heads home. She still has 45 minutes of driving and is eager to get to it. She does vomit once more but makes it off the road and out of the car first. As she makes the last stretch the following words come through her mental fog from a song playing on the radio:
This story begins with L's father-in-law being nice. L doesn't get to the Temple for her church very often due to a lot of miss-prioritizing and a little legume we like to call Peanut. Anyway L's father-in-law arranges for L to do a session at the Temple on Wednesday while he watches the 'Nut outside. Problem solved. L is excited.
However, on Tuesday Peanut is a little clingy in the morning and after being up for about a half hour he vomits twice in the living room. It's not a big deal, especially since he hasn't eaten anything yet and as he has been having problems with allergies L chalks it up to that appealing-sounding sinus drainage. She watches what he eats all day and isn't overly concerned.
Wednesday he's still not back to normal but not even any vomit. L's sister, from here on out to be known as 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever', comes over and dyes eggs with L and 'Nut and much fun is had. Although 'Nut seems mostly back to normal L determines she doesn't want him running around too much outside yet so has Ox take off work early to watch the 'Nut and she heads on down to the Temple. 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' watches the 'Nut for the few minutes between L having to leave and Ox getting home.
On the drive to the Temple (approx. 70 miles/1 hr 15 mins) L realizes she hasn't eaten since lunch and won't get dinner until late. Well...life happens. However, after L gets to the temple her stomach starts hurting. Then aching. Then grinding and twisting into a tornado of pain. This eases into a wave of nausea. L is sitting through the approx. hour and a half session alternately praying to NOT VOMIT IN THE TEMPLE!!! and wondering what would happen if she did. Probably not a lot of quality worshiping.
After the session is over L rushes to the bathroom fully intent on vomiting but nothing happens. The nausea diminishes and the pain becomes bearable. Maybe God loves L because she stoically endured under pressure? L would be proud if she wasn't in such a rush to get home. So starts the 'short earlier this afternoon and now unbelievably long' trip home.
L drives down the freeway trying to decide if it's better to be distracted at a higher speed or for a longer time. If she vomits on a cop will that get her out of a ticket or into jail as he will surely not believe she's not drunk? Being a planner L starts to look around for what she could vomit into should such a situation arise... Ahh thanks to L and Ox's slovenly ways here is a WhataBurger bag within reach. Problem solved. L even calls her Ox to make sure he will still love her if she fills their car with vomit. He responds positively but hints that love will not extend to cleaning vomit from car upholstery.
And then it happens. Uncontrollable Vomit. Left hand on the steering wheel, looking over the right shoulder to change lanes and pull safely off the freeway, right hand holding the WhataBurger bag to her face to catch pulsing streams of something hot and rancid. Almost to the side...almost safe...then the WhataBurger bag disintegrates under a burden it was never meant to bear. Suddenly things have gone from bad to worse.
***Pause to calm yourself... She doesn't get eaten by the eels at this time.***
As we return to the scene L is safely off to the side of the freeway. However the gratitude that should be forthcoming is mired in the vomit covering: L, her lap, her seat belt, her center console, her gear shift, the right side of her car seat, a small section of the passenger seat...
If the world were fair L would be immediately transported to her own bathroom to get cleaned up and then pampered by her loving husband. Alas the would is not fair and L is still over 45 minutes from home. Calling Ox results in sympathy but no logical quick fix. So L calls 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever'. 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' immediately agrees to meet L at a gas station about 2 miles from L's current location.
'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' meets L at the gas station and sends L into the bathroom with her own back up clothes. L ignores the horrified look of the attendant. While L cleans herself up and seeks to wedge herself into her sister's much smaller clothes, 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' uses a half carton of baby wipes to clean L's car better than could be ever imagined. L comes out (with a resolve to think on thigh and tummy fat at some later point), buys a water and thanks 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' in an inadequate way. 'Wendy the super queen and best sister ever' heads into the city for a date/night out (with her friend who has been sitting horrified in her car the ENTIRE time) smelling of someone else's vomit. She truly is amazing.
And so L heads home. She still has 45 minutes of driving and is eager to get to it. She does vomit once more but makes it off the road and out of the car first. As she makes the last stretch the following words come through her mental fog from a song playing on the radio:
Ooh, ooh that smell Can't you smell that smell? Ooh, ooh that smell The smell of death surrounds you
Monday, March 28, 2011
Top 5 Ways (this past week) I Am A Questionable Mother
5. Have started using my yoga mat as a place to let Peanut feed himself. He has started insisting on feeding himself and I am not willing to clean my old school, needs to be resealed (or sealed to begin with?) hardwood floor that often. I sit him down with his breakfast... a bowl of oatmeal, or cereal or (this is a memorable one) 5 frosted mini wheats + 3 baby carrots + one strawberry and let him go to town. Then I put him in his morning bath (yes he has 2 a day) and let the dogs in to lick up the yoga mat. Should that be a different entry? Using your dogs as an honest part of your clean up routine? Oh no, that's on the Top 5 Ways I'm A Bad Housekeeper list.
4. Have given up on the 'Don't eat dog/cat food' issue. It was my red button, makes me so irritated I could demolish a building issue. I have admitted defeat. "Fine, Peanut! You want to fill up on dog or cat food? Go ahead! See if I care! But I'm telling you kisses on the mouth from this mom are going to diminish significantly"
3. Give my child lemonade. Apparently it's worse than soda on your kids teeth because of the citric acid plus sugar. Just kidding, I just only had 4 blaring example of inept mothering this week but a Top 4 list is stupid.
2. Have started insisting Peanut spends time outside in the backyard without me. What? 17 months old is too young? Don't worry, he has 3 dogs (the smallest 3 times his weight) out there who alternately knock him down and lick his face, thus knocking him down, to watch him. Also we have one of those dog water, hooks onto the spigot, looks like a hamster water things out there and I've totally caught him using it so I know he always has access to liquid refreshment.
And the Number 1 Way I Am A Questionable Mother...(try it in story form)
1. Let's say L has put on her calendar that Friday she will get out of the house (without using the car) with her fussy baby, NO MATTER WHAT. Living in a town with no sidewalks (ok there might be some but they're definitely not by her house) taking the regular stroller is quite a pain. But wait...we have a bike trailer that, with the addition of one wheel, turns into a jogging type stroller (bigger wheels= easier on rough streets).
Except one thing...L can't find that one wheel. One grumpy phone call to husband later, tire still not found and L is close to losing her mind. Why? Well, the road from normal L to losing-her-mind-L is not a long one. So she decides to just take Ox's bike with said trailer attached.
Problems with this? First, Ox's bike was a special buy made to fit Ox. It even says the word "Giant" on it. Even with the seat all the way down L can't reach the pedal at it's down position.
Second, L honestly hasn't ridden a bike farther than 10 feet since elementary school. This is no joke. Not a huge fan of bike riding (seriously, all these years later and they can't figure out a more comfortable seat?) L has avoided biking most of her life. When is a good time to rekindle your interest in something and try it anew? Well, it's definitely not when you will be riding on the street, pulling your baby behind you, with his life in your hands (or just dependent on feet that can reach the ground without laying the bike over sideways).
Does L contemplate all this? Not really. So she starts on her bike ride. It's easier than she thought, besides the part where you have to give it an extra push at the 90 degree point in rotation so the other pedal comes around to where you can reach it. L is starting to feel pretty good about her self and this idea. Then comes the slight incline, and the railroad tracks. This is more aerobic activity than L has done in a while. Also these seats really are uncomfortable.
Ahh here it comes...the stop sign. L is aware legally she should stop but since she can't get off the bike without holding onto something or kindof dropping the bike sideways and jumping off she decides to skip it. Her pulse accelerates contemplating a oncoming car or even a cop but luckily she lives in a podunk town with not many people cruising around in the early afternoon. A not long time later L arrives at the park with Peanut, who seems unaware his life has just been gambled on. A phone call and two short trial trips later, L and Peanut resign themselves to waiting at the park for Ox to get off work and pick them up.
And there you go. Has my almost year and a half of motherhood imbued me with a maternal instinct and a lot more common sense? Not really. I don't want to scare you not-yet-parent types but parenthood only seems to increase your ability to be stupid and/or questionable. Should my Peanut survive to adulthood you may all remind him what a close call it was.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Happy Pi Day!
Yea for Pi and pie! Today to celebrate we had dinner (and dessert) with Jeanne, Brad, Rachel, Madi, Cal and Katie. We had Cottage Pie for dinner.
Then for dessert we had Chocolate Buttermilk Pie, Sour Cherry Pie and Coconut Cream Pie. So good!
Then two little cousins had to take a bath. How do you get coconut in your ear?
Also Katie Mae smiled at me today...
So happy times, yes?
But oh last night...
It started off innocently enough, with Peanut doing some sort of half-nudie photo shoot
then moved onto soon-to-be-regretted tattoos
and finally moved onto the saddest event...
the 1st real haircut...
I'm not ashamed to say I cried. Since Ox was the one who actually held the clippers he did penance by cutting off his own hair (sorry no photos).
Then came the moment that chills the blood.
There she was, an innocent, madonna-like mother, laying (or is it lying? I can never remember) in bed, practically radiating love and peace, when she was set upon by the testosterone in the house.
Held down by both her Cute-faced lovey and the fruit of her loins and tortured. They overwhelmed her. The small one sat on her chest and snuffled her chin and neck, the initiator grabbed at sides, waist, arms, legs. She was overcome.
Eventually came the cry that she fears will become (at yet one more point in her life) her mantra, "LET ME UP OR I'M GOING TO PEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!".
Outnumbered.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Notes Without Opposible Thumbs
* The nurse came in with a pain pill prescription when discharging me. I asked if it could be safely taken while breast feeding. She left, came back with the answer, "Better save this as a last resort"...I'm guessing that means no???
* When my 4 am, left-handed rewrapping of my injury is more effective than the nurses I worry for ER care in this area.
* Ox braided my hair this morning. It looked better than normal. Is that awesome for him or embarrassing for me?
* Driving a manual car is surprisingly easy. Turning it on and off surprisingly difficult.
* Peanut seems unrepentant. Should I beat him more?
* I am grateful for awesome health insurance. It was only 3 stitches but our trip to the emergency room only cost $50 and even that came out of a tax-free flex-spending account.
* Ox went in late to work this morning to help get Peanut and I up and off to Institute class. My mother-in-law helped get Peanut in and out of the car at class. I am well taken care of.
* Hardest thing to do today? Pull the heavy feather duvet over Peanut and I for our nap. Succeeded in straining my injured squishy place and punching myself in the face.
* Threw out yesterday's black bean burgers. Instructed Ox in making new black bean burgers. Forgot to add garlic. Still delicious.
Best part of injury- not allowed to do dishes. Hmmm might be worth it.
PS Anyone who comments on how I can still manage to do dishes will be punched the next time I see them. Distance is not a factor; I have a long memory for punching.
* When my 4 am, left-handed rewrapping of my injury is more effective than the nurses I worry for ER care in this area.
* Ox braided my hair this morning. It looked better than normal. Is that awesome for him or embarrassing for me?
* Driving a manual car is surprisingly easy. Turning it on and off surprisingly difficult.
* Peanut seems unrepentant. Should I beat him more?
* I am grateful for awesome health insurance. It was only 3 stitches but our trip to the emergency room only cost $50 and even that came out of a tax-free flex-spending account.
* Ox went in late to work this morning to help get Peanut and I up and off to Institute class. My mother-in-law helped get Peanut in and out of the car at class. I am well taken care of.
* Hardest thing to do today? Pull the heavy feather duvet over Peanut and I for our nap. Succeeded in straining my injured squishy place and punching myself in the face.
* Threw out yesterday's black bean burgers. Instructed Ox in making new black bean burgers. Forgot to add garlic. Still delicious.
Best part of injury- not allowed to do dishes. Hmmm might be worth it.
PS Anyone who comments on how I can still manage to do dishes will be punched the next time I see them. Distance is not a factor; I have a long memory for punching.
Black Bean Burgers and BLOOD!
***Readers, you might ask what a delicious vegetarian black bean burger has to do with blood. I'll give you a hint- not animal blood***
Here's how you make a succulently delicious black bean burger:
Take 2 c black beans. Sort them (take out any little rocks you find), rinse them, put them in a pot with 8 c water and soak over night.
In the morning, rinse the beans and drain the water. Add 6 c water, half a diced onion and some salt and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer between 1 1/2 to 2 hours until beans are soft. Let cool. Drain off excess liquid.
Take 2 c cooked beans (this will leave you excess beans in the pot). Mash with potato masher slightly. Add 1 c bread crumbs (or wheat germ...yum!), some cumin, some cayenne pepper, some garlic and more salt if needed. TASTE! Adjust flavoring as needed (you can add more beans if you added too much flavoring). When flavoring is delicious add 1-2 eggs and 1/2 c frozen corn. The consistency at this point should be similar to ground hamburger.
Form into patties. Coat lightly in corn meal. Fry in 2 Tbsp oil on med. high for about 5 mins on each side (remember the only thing that needs to be 'cooked' is the egg). Place in the oven to keep warm, if needed.
Now imagine L doing all these things, starting Sunday evening. Peanut is being a bit of a pill but other than remembering to plan ahead, black bean burgers aren't that labor intensive, so it's not too stressful. (Pay attention this next part moves fast).
L is forming the patties, pretty ecstatic, because the consistency is so perfect she should be on a cooking show. She is humming slightly- excited about eating these perfect burgers, Ox getting home from work and taking the 'Nut for a bike ride, then their trip into town for Baby/Toddler ASL class...and also to drown out the 'Nut's incessant whining. The 'Nut wants to help. He climbs on on the kitchen chair grabs the long, sharp bread knife and waves it around, stabbing it into one of the burgers. L lunges for the knife, the 'Nut pulls away, L ends up with the knife, starts to lecture about not touching knives and looks down to notice the skin between her thumb and pointer finger is now only partially connected. Ohhh muscles!
L rinses her hand (remember it's still covered in delicious black bean burger), wraps in in a kitchen towel that is embarrassingly un-cute and slightly dirty. She then picks up Peanut, who is crying because his diabolical plan to take over the world/desire to poke black bean burgers has been thwarted and walks quickly to...the computer?!?!? Why? Well because she has once again misplaced her phone and must EMAIL her husband at work for reinforcements. She emails. He does not respond but 15 mins later her Ox is home.
Ox looks at the squishy place covered by the towel and determines a doctor must be consulted. It is now 4:15 pm. L does not trust the local hospital. They call their doctors office but once they get there (35 miles away) it will be closed. They head to the ER by the doctors office.
By 6:15 the ER doctor sees them. The Ox and 'Nut are asked to leave, the squishy place is washed, dried and made accessible to the doctor. He asks if L is allergic to Lidocaine. She is not and says so but forgets to mention that while not sending her into anaphylactic shock it, it also doesn't numb her at all, something learned long ago at the dentist.
At this point I am guessing most of you enchanted readers are imagining our heroine as stalwart and stoic and brave...she is not. The second Ox and 'Nut leave she is crying like a baby, tears streaming down her face but oh so quietly so as not to disturb the doctor- after all we don't want him distracted.
The first stitch goes in. L remembers the significance of the Lidocaine question as the doctor asks her if she can feel anything. She nods emphatically. He doesn't see since he is diligently concentrating on sewing the squishy part closed. He tells her not to be shy if there's a problem, in a quiet not-expecting-a-response tone of voice. L finally manages to get out that 'YES, it hurts'. He looks up, surprised, and asks, slightly disbelieving, if it's really pain or just pressure. L says, "pain" in a completely controlled way as he sets the 2nd stich. "Hmmm...," the doctors says, as he sets the 3rd and last stich, the one that is obviously piecing together some sort of major nerve, and trying to make small talk continues, "So do you want any more kids?".
Here's how you make a succulently delicious black bean burger:
Take 2 c black beans. Sort them (take out any little rocks you find), rinse them, put them in a pot with 8 c water and soak over night.
In the morning, rinse the beans and drain the water. Add 6 c water, half a diced onion and some salt and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer between 1 1/2 to 2 hours until beans are soft. Let cool. Drain off excess liquid.
Take 2 c cooked beans (this will leave you excess beans in the pot). Mash with potato masher slightly. Add 1 c bread crumbs (or wheat germ...yum!), some cumin, some cayenne pepper, some garlic and more salt if needed. TASTE! Adjust flavoring as needed (you can add more beans if you added too much flavoring). When flavoring is delicious add 1-2 eggs and 1/2 c frozen corn. The consistency at this point should be similar to ground hamburger.
Form into patties. Coat lightly in corn meal. Fry in 2 Tbsp oil on med. high for about 5 mins on each side (remember the only thing that needs to be 'cooked' is the egg). Place in the oven to keep warm, if needed.
Now imagine L doing all these things, starting Sunday evening. Peanut is being a bit of a pill but other than remembering to plan ahead, black bean burgers aren't that labor intensive, so it's not too stressful. (Pay attention this next part moves fast).
L is forming the patties, pretty ecstatic, because the consistency is so perfect she should be on a cooking show. She is humming slightly- excited about eating these perfect burgers, Ox getting home from work and taking the 'Nut for a bike ride, then their trip into town for Baby/Toddler ASL class...and also to drown out the 'Nut's incessant whining. The 'Nut wants to help. He climbs on on the kitchen chair grabs the long, sharp bread knife and waves it around, stabbing it into one of the burgers. L lunges for the knife, the 'Nut pulls away, L ends up with the knife, starts to lecture about not touching knives and looks down to notice the skin between her thumb and pointer finger is now only partially connected. Ohhh muscles!
L rinses her hand (remember it's still covered in delicious black bean burger), wraps in in a kitchen towel that is embarrassingly un-cute and slightly dirty. She then picks up Peanut, who is crying because his diabolical plan to take over the world/desire to poke black bean burgers has been thwarted and walks quickly to...the computer?!?!? Why? Well because she has once again misplaced her phone and must EMAIL her husband at work for reinforcements. She emails. He does not respond but 15 mins later her Ox is home.
Ox looks at the squishy place covered by the towel and determines a doctor must be consulted. It is now 4:15 pm. L does not trust the local hospital. They call their doctors office but once they get there (35 miles away) it will be closed. They head to the ER by the doctors office.
By 6:15 the ER doctor sees them. The Ox and 'Nut are asked to leave, the squishy place is washed, dried and made accessible to the doctor. He asks if L is allergic to Lidocaine. She is not and says so but forgets to mention that while not sending her into anaphylactic shock it, it also doesn't numb her at all, something learned long ago at the dentist.
At this point I am guessing most of you enchanted readers are imagining our heroine as stalwart and stoic and brave...she is not. The second Ox and 'Nut leave she is crying like a baby, tears streaming down her face but oh so quietly so as not to disturb the doctor- after all we don't want him distracted.
The first stitch goes in. L remembers the significance of the Lidocaine question as the doctor asks her if she can feel anything. She nods emphatically. He doesn't see since he is diligently concentrating on sewing the squishy part closed. He tells her not to be shy if there's a problem, in a quiet not-expecting-a-response tone of voice. L finally manages to get out that 'YES, it hurts'. He looks up, surprised, and asks, slightly disbelieving, if it's really pain or just pressure. L says, "pain" in a completely controlled way as he sets the 2nd stich. "Hmmm...," the doctors says, as he sets the 3rd and last stich, the one that is obviously piecing together some sort of major nerve, and trying to make small talk continues, "So do you want any more kids?".
Monday, February 7, 2011
We Have the Interwebs!!!
Yes, it has finally happen. snaiLs and Ox's have the interwebs in their very own house. We have limped/slimed our way into the modern age. Why, you ask, have we been without said interwebs? Were we morally opposed? Afraid of youthful hackers? Old and crotchety? Well I will tell you in a long, drawn out and probably uninteresting story, interspersed with pictures of my Peanut so you feel obligated to continue reading.
A long, long time ago there was no 'Nut, just a snaiL and an Ox. It was a time of dates and a clean house and money for sushi. Why is this? Because both L and Ox were working of course! And what did each of them have available at their jobs? That's right...the interwebs! You're so smart! (Ok I'm sorry I'm in the nursery at church and it's possible the grown ups in the audience don't need this question/answer format laced with self-esteem boosting praise).
Anyway back to the story...L and Ox both had the interwebs at their grindstones. In fact, L spent a huge portion of her day communicating through emails, looking things up for helpless students, professors and administrators, and watching The Daily Show.
If something needed to be looked up/read/bought online/blogged about it could be done from the comforts of their office chairs and double monitors during the 40 - 50 hours a week they spent there. Why spend sushi money on home webs?
Fast forward. snaiLs and Ox's powers combine to form...Captain Pla...wait, no...what was it again???... Oh, yes...the Peanut!!! He is so little and good-smelling and nibbley. Mmmmm Peanut.
We move to where The School That Shall Not Be Named shafts good L with broken promises and fake concern. The choice: 50 hours/week with Peanut or without him. Easily decided. And so L joins the ranks of slightly crazy from lack of adult conversation stay home moms.
It is wonderful and delicious and better than she imagined. And yet, something is missing. Oh yes, the interwebs she has become so gloriously attached to.
Sadly:
(mentally interject visual aid of Need/Want of Home Interwebs increasing while Income Left Over After Food/Housing/Peanut Weekly Spa Treatments decreasing)
And so there are still no interwebs. L and the 'Nut survive at home without them. Ox still has access if necessary and board book reading, ball bouncing and dog chasing seem to fill the days. Ahhh a happy and uncomplicated time.
But one day Ox says it is time to treat L to a little glimpse into a world where, "Stop licking the baby" and "Don't eat dog food" are not the only words heard for miles. We pay to have the interwebs delivered to our house right after Christmas.
Murphy's Law is enacted.
And our story ends, in early February, with our heroes gaining the prize. Ahh it is beautiful to behold.
Warnings/Notes: All, Some or None of this story may or may not be true and has been embellished to the writers desire. Also this post contains Peanuts. Processed in a factory where Peanuts are processed.
A long, long time ago there was no 'Nut, just a snaiL and an Ox. It was a time of dates and a clean house and money for sushi. Why is this? Because both L and Ox were working of course! And what did each of them have available at their jobs? That's right...the interwebs! You're so smart! (Ok I'm sorry I'm in the nursery at church and it's possible the grown ups in the audience don't need this question/answer format laced with self-esteem boosting praise).
Anyway back to the story...L and Ox both had the interwebs at their grindstones. In fact, L spent a huge portion of her day communicating through emails, looking things up for helpless students, professors and administrators, and watching The Daily Show.
If something needed to be looked up/read/bought online/blogged about it could be done from the comforts of their office chairs and double monitors during the 40 - 50 hours a week they spent there. Why spend sushi money on home webs?
Fast forward. snaiLs and Ox's powers combine to form...Captain Pla...wait, no...what was it again???... Oh, yes...the Peanut!!! He is so little and good-smelling and nibbley. Mmmmm Peanut.
We move to where The School That Shall Not Be Named shafts good L with broken promises and fake concern. The choice: 50 hours/week with Peanut or without him. Easily decided. And so L joins the ranks of slightly crazy from lack of adult conversation stay home moms.
It is wonderful and delicious and better than she imagined. And yet, something is missing. Oh yes, the interwebs she has become so gloriously attached to.
Sadly:
(mentally interject visual aid of Need/Want of Home Interwebs increasing while Income Left Over After Food/Housing/Peanut Weekly Spa Treatments decreasing)
And so there are still no interwebs. L and the 'Nut survive at home without them. Ox still has access if necessary and board book reading, ball bouncing and dog chasing seem to fill the days. Ahhh a happy and uncomplicated time.
But one day Ox says it is time to treat L to a little glimpse into a world where, "Stop licking the baby" and "Don't eat dog food" are not the only words heard for miles. We pay to have the interwebs delivered to our house right after Christmas.
Murphy's Law is enacted.
And our story ends, in early February, with our heroes gaining the prize. Ahh it is beautiful to behold.
Warnings/Notes: All, Some or None of this story may or may not be true and has been embellished to the writers desire. Also this post contains Peanuts. Processed in a factory where Peanuts are processed.
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