A Bunch of Stuff...

Around here we have been experiencing some form of flu/cold. It so completely and thoroughly sucks to be sick for this long. I have dubbed it the Green Goo. Take it from me, you don't want it and you don't want to know why I call it that horrible name. It is a tenacious cold/flu strain that appears to never go away. Just when you think you are better, to quote Al Pacino, it "pulls you back in."

We are now entering week two. Tempers are short. People are weepy. Noses are chapped and sore. Kleenex is getting scarce. The wheels have most definitely come off the proverbial bus. Things just don't work well when Mommy is sick.

I have a few random things to share.

1. The measure of maternal devotion is whether or not your child has ever thrown up and or pooped into your hands and how you have reacted. There is a gross out factor to motherhood that no one warns you about. The long and short of it: you will come into contact with more bodily fluids, not your own, than an ER nurse. That is just the truth. Sorry no rainbows and lollipops, here. It ain't pretty, but by the time they actually puke or poo into your hands, you are so numb to it (at least I was) that it barely registers on your radar.

2. On Valentine's Day, Mr. Smith and I went out for a sweetheart breakfast. Unfortunately, the place was mobbed, I was really really hungry and we were seated at a tiny table so close to other diners, I could feel their hot breath and see their pores. The sweetheart breakfast disintegrated into an argument between Mr. Smith and myself that played out via iPhone text messaging so that our insanely close neighbors would not be able to hear our heated discussion about Mr. Smith emphatic insistence that we leave IMMEDIATELY! Everything was fine after we adjourned to a less crowded locale and got a booth for a family of 25. Talk about romance. We know how to capture the spirit of Valentine's Day.

3. I used to date a guy that told me, very seriously, to "stop making fun of me or you are going to give me a complexion." Can you fill in what happened next? He was the same guy that got the terms castration and circumcision mixed up...frequently. He has two sons now. True story.

4. I have never seen Ghostbusters, Jurassic Park, most of the Star Wars saga, or any of the Matrix movies. Sorry big movie studio, big budget folks who make event films. I am just not your girl. Your event movies make me sleepy. Also, this is for you Keanu: do us all a favor and turn in your SAG card. Sorry dude, but seriously, it is awkward and uncomfortable to watch you "act."

5. When you are sick and you are under five, it makes you feel better to play Toy Story and Toy Story 2 on an endless loop for over a week. If you are sick and over five, however, it will make you feel like you are going to fly apart into a million pieces.

6. I have been baking up a yeasty storm over here using this book. It is just lovely to have the aroma of baking bread, that you made with your own hot little hands, wafting through the house. It is simple, elegant, and so tasty. There are dozens of recipes in it, not just for bread, that will strike your fancy. This one is perfect for anyone with a phobia of yeast recipes (Miss Amy, I am looking right at you!).

I mean, seriously people, how gorgeous is this? And this was my first loaf.

and the second loaf.

And here is what the wheat version looks like...

The book was worth every penny. We have had fresh bread each day this week and it is absolute bliss.

Here are some links for recipes I have made in the last few months.


Pioneer Woman's Monkey Bread. This one has no nutritional value whatsoever. I would advise you to make this if and only if you get the Green Goo. Otherwise, you will too be clear-headed to justify eating this one. I am ashamed to confess that I have made this twice. Forgive me.

Murphy's Hot Hamburger. This is not something for the Weight Watcher crowd, but it sure is yummy. I skip making my own fries (since I burnt them beyond all recognition the first time I made this) and use Trader Joe's Potato Wedges. It also makes this recipe so much quicker to whip up and serve.

Zesty Pasta Salad. This one is my last ditch attempt at some kind of redemption. This is actually pretty healthy and REALLY tasty. The perfect side dish for Memorial Day picnics.


Here's hoping none of you get this Green Goo! Have a great weekend!

Ok, so I had a little tantrum.

I deleted a post that was up earlier today.

I had my bitch on for little while there and deleted what I wrote. See, I am a petulant child. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where my devil babies get it! Pray for poor Mr. Smith.

I have been holding on to a couple of funny stories. I will figure out a way to tell these and incorporate some recipes.

In the meantime, here are some photos from Mother's Day.

I am not, in general, a big fan of these days (Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day). I guess the notion of waiting for one particular day to appreciate the people you should appreciate every single day bugs me.

On Sunday, I stood on a secluded beach at low tide and watched my little family. I watched my children dart in and out of the water like little birds. I watched as they got more and more soaked and more and more naked. I watched Mr. Smith carry our son out into the surf. I watched as our brave little boy begged his father not to go back to shore, but keep going further into the surf.

That kind of joy, that kind of abandon, that kind of freedom to scream and laugh and play, it made my heart swell and tears sting my eyes.

This is my life now. And I could not be more thankful...every single day.

Happy Birthday Lina Boo,

Until the night before the sonogram, your father had me convinced that we were going to have another boy. That night, I dreamed about you throughout the night. Every dream had a song with your name in it for a soundtrack. After that, I just knew. I knew you were the little girl I had dreamed about before the technician ever touched the wand to my belly. I was completely calm because I knew, in my heart, what the sonogram would reveal. There was no more doubt left for me.

"Do you want to know the gender?", she asked right away.

"Absolutely!", we said.

"Yup, definitely a little girl."

That was pretty much the last day you ever cooperated with us.

I have never known anyone like you. You are the most stubborn, headstrong, willful person I have ever met. Okay, other than myself.

I have worried and fretted over you since the moment the pregnancy test was positive. The little message in a bottle you sent to let us know you were in there could not have come at a worse time. We were not ready for you, but apparently, you were ready for us. You are not one to wait. Ever. For anything.

I worried that you were in trouble in there. I worried that you were never going to know what a happy family could be like. We were at an all time low point and you were my ray of hope. You and your brother were the thing that kept me going at that dark time in our lives. I had to be brave for both of you, no matter how scared I was.

You are so little and that is too much responsibility for you to carry.

You are my last baby and some days you make me glad we made that decision. You are a handful.

And then there are the days when you are enchanting. Early in the morning when you have me all to yourself and you are funny and sweet, those are the times that make me regret the decision to not have any more children.

You have a grandmother you have never met. Luckily, there are other women eager to fill her empty shoes, and much more ably, I might add. I hope that you cherish these women the way that I have cherished them. They have so much to teach both of us.

You are a dedicated, fierce contrarian. "No, I don't want it!" is a familiar refrain from you. Even if it is something you do want. Even if it is something you just asked us to get for you. I have never been forced to argue with someone so young, so frequently.

You have the most beautiful khaki/brownish/goldish/bluish eyes that sparkle when you get that naughty little look on your face, which is frequently.

I could watch you all day while you figure everything out. You are scary smart and bossy in the extreme. I figure you will be running a small country before you are eighteen. I am already penning the letter of apology to your future boyfriends. I can only imagine what they will face when dealing with you.

Even though you have a tough candy coating, you are filled with a soft nougat center. You love just as fiercely as you argue.

You are one of the best snugglers I have ever met. I could watch you sleep for hours (assuming you would). I love when you wake up, your cheeks are pink and scored with sleep wrinkles and your hair is chaotic. You put your head on my shoulder and wrap you chubby little arms around my neck. You make me forget how pissed I was that you woke me up at 2:45 and I will be a zombie reanimated by coffee for the rest of the day. You make me thankful that I have that time with you, just the two of us.

You are the person that turned our family from three to four. You have made our family whole. I will be forever thankful that you fluttered into our lives.

I love you, my sweet girl. I can't wait to see what the next two years hold!