Monday, February 19, 2018

Seems Reasonable

A. and Cubby are leaving on Wednesday to go to Tucson to visit the various family members there. While I was checking the airline's carry-on rules, just to see if anything has changed since the last time we flew, I came across the TSA "What Can I Bring" lists. In the section for "household/tools," listed in between "Butane Curling Irons (cordless)" and "cell phones," is "cattle prods."

Cattle prods.

I am not making this up.

We have a fairly unusual household ourselves that includes things like skunk essence (for trapping) and ice claws (in case A. falls through the ice), but in no way can I see how cattle prods constitute a "household tool."

In case you were wondering, they're allowed in checked baggage, but not in carry-ons. Consider yourself informed.

Seriously. Cattle prods.

* We're waiting until tomorrow to tell the children, because the wrath of the two other boys will no doubt be fearsome to behold. In the wise words of Scarlett O'Hara, "I can't think about this now. I'll think about it tomorrow." Wish me luck.

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Cinnamon Rolls from the Past

I am currently in one of the "You're killing me, smalls," phases of babyhood. That is, that baby is not sleeping, day or night. Unless she's physically on my shoulder, putting my arm to sleep and guaranteeing crippling pain.

Luckily, this is not my first baby (or my second, or even my third), so I know it's just a phase. Sometime in the coming days (please) or weeks, she'll sleep again.

But for now, there are cinnamon rolls.

When I made cinnamon rolls on Christmas Eve, I made a double batch and froze some. I figured if I was going to all that trouble to make them, I'd better at least get two good mornings out of it.

The extra ones have been sitting in the freezer all this time, awaiting the right moment for cinnamon roll comfort. I am normally very careful about not eating a lot of sugar when I'm not getting any sleep, because it just makes me feel worse. But this morning, I decided that cinnamon rolls would make me feel as if I might be able to go on.

It's not the same as eight hours of uninterrupted sleep*, but it's something. And I'll take what I can get right now.

* Or even four hours. That'd be great.

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

This Is Your Valentine's Day on Sleep Deprivation

After being up most of last night--and several nights before that--and then hanging out with Poppy starting at 5 a.m., I was running low on motivation to make a special Valentine's Day breakfast for the children.

I had some bleary and very delusional thought that I should maybe make heart-shaped pancakes or something*. But then I came to my senses and cut some pieces of bread into rough heart shapes, slapped some peanut butter on that and bam! Valentine's Day memories: made!

Because nothing says love like wonky heart-shaped bread.

Anyway, today is a school day, so there will be plenty of Valentine's Day celebrating at school. By which I mean sugar. Plus, we took the kids to the church last night to eat pancakes and decorate cupcakes at the youth group fundraiser, so I feel I've done my holiday duty.

Happy Valentine's Day, my lovelies. I hope it's full of love. (Actually, I hope all your days are full of love. Maybe today I should hope for you that you receive chocolate. That's always good.)

* I do not mean to disparage this sort of thing if that's your happy place, but it most definitely is not mine. Thankfully, I feel no Pinterest-pressure whatsoever, so I don't even pretend I'm going to be doing stuff like this.

Sunday, February 11, 2018


Happy birthday to Cubby
The best biggest brother

Thursday, February 8, 2018

Ready, Set, Bake

For someone who doesn't really like to bake, I seem to do an awful lot of it. Four loaves of sourdough bread every ten days or so, occasional muffins, rare cinnamon rolls, even rarer cheese crackers . . .

It's all my own doing, though. As I said to A., if I were okay with buying Entenmann's at the grocery store, I wouldn't spend so much time covered in flour. But I'm not okay with buying Entenmann's because, well, it's not good enough.

Let's be real: I bake because I really like to eat baked goods that taste good. So it's worth it to me, even though I don't like the process much.

That said, I feel the baking for Cubby's birthday this year is a little excessive.

His birthday is on Sunday. It happens to fall on a Sunday when he has Sunday school, so I figured he could bring in some muffins for a birthday treat for his Sunday school class and I would be off the hook for birthday cupcakes for his class at school.

He agreed that bringing in muffins would be good. But then, this week, he said everyone in his class brings in a birthday treat, even if their birthday is not on an actual school day.


He also wants a cheesecake for his actual birthday cake on Sunday night for the family celebration.

And yesterday, with unfortunate timing, I took the last loaf of bread out of the freezer.

So here's my schedule:

This morning I started a new batch of bread and baked 24 cupcakes. (I even remembered the flour! A good start.)

This afternoon I'll make frosting and finish the cupcakes so I can bring them to the school tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll bake four loaves of sourdough bread. (Traditional sourdough is a two-day process.)

Saturday I'll make the cheesecake so it can chill in the refrigerator for Sunday.

Sunday morning I'll bake two dozen blueberry muffins.

And then I'll be hanging up my apron for the foreseeable future, because that is a lot of baking. But I have my new 25-pound bag of flour, four packages of cream cheese, a few dozen eggs, and a lot of sugar.

Oven fired up and here we go . . .

Monday, February 5, 2018

Poppy's Theme Song

Courtesy of Linda Ronstadt*

Poor, poor, pitiful me
Poor, poor, pitiful me
Oh these boys won't let me be
Lord have mercy on me
Ohhhh, woah is me.

They mean well. I think.

* Fun random fact: I played soccer with Linda Ronstadt's niece when I was in middle school. I never met Linda Ronstadt, though.

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

SuperAunt Saves the Day

My sister has been here since Sunday. She came to meet Poppy, see the boys (and me, I suppose, but at this point I always consider myself the afterthought to the children) and help me while A. was gone on a work trip.

I am devoutly grateful that she did. Poppy has been sick--mucous season rages on--and therefore up a lot to nurse and be held at night. And wanting to be held a lot during the day. If I didn't have another pair of adult arms to hold her for me at least during the day sometimes, I'd be even more crippled than I am now.

As A. likes to say in his best gym-rat voice, "My pecs are blown, bro."


She's been on Poppy-soothing duty more or less since she came. Also ice skating with children duty, on the literal ice block that is our driveway at the moment. And sledding duty with Jack. And dishes, and dressing children, and changing diapers, and . . .

Well. Family is awesome.

That is all.