Saturday Mornings at our House

If you were to drop by our house unexpectedly, way too early on a Saturday morning (this isn't an invitation, by the way, you'd likely cause an anxiety attack from at least one member of the family. We love you and would love to see you, but please call. And give lots of warning.) this is the scene you would likely view upon entering.

Hayden rearranging her monsterous mound of toys about the living room, toting Bunny Bear, and listening to her Daddy play piano.

You'll get renditions of everything from "Fur Elise" to a ragtime ditty to "Lean on Me" in the span of just a few minutes. Whatever is tickling Chris's fancy that morning. His melodies often inspire Hayden to join in on her little piano (see her tucked behind Chris, pounding those ivories)

But then, the call of another toy will win her over, and she's off again...

I love these times. Really love them. Just hanging out, as a family, in our pj's, spending time together and hanging out.

He comes by it honestly

Today at lunch, I ran my mother-in-law on some errands, which included a trip to the local bank to process some paperwork and make a deposit. As we were waiting at the customer service desk, she decided to go ahead and fill out the deposit slip, and asked me to pass her one of the pens from the cup nearby. I complied, and commented that she was in fact already holding a pen. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed this, saying that her pen wasn't any good and she didn't like it. No worries, I told her, that's why they have this whole cup full of pens sitting right there. As she filled out the slip, she mentioned that the bank's pen "really writes good", and said she thought she'd keep it. I told her I was sure that was fine, since they typically put them out for customers to use and/or keep, you know, which is why they put their logo on it and all. Still, she was a bit surreptitious as she slipped the new found wonder into her handbag.

This cracked me up because of the number of pens we have carried home from dinner because inevitably whenever Chris is signing the receipt at dinner, he comments on how well the pen writes. It was an all-too familiar circumstance, but thankfully, I wasn't the one tucking the pilfered item into my bag today. Interestingly enough, Chris discovered later when using one of the 'borrowed' pens at work that the wonderful flow of the ink was due in fact to the lovely padded writing surface on most of the receipt trays, and not a virtue of the pen itself.

It was just amusing to learn after all these years that my dear husband's propensity for lifting well-writing pens was in fact a genetic trait, and makes me wonder if our daughter has inherited the same. I suppose only time will tell. For now, just keep an eye on your pens if a Padgett's around.

Singing Valentines

Hey guys (and gals!),

Want to really WOW your favorite someone this Valentine's Day? Order a singing Valentine!! It's better than a box of Chocolates, and the memory will outlast any roses!!! Four gentlemen dressed in tuxedos will sing to your sweetheart at home, at work, at school, at a restaurant, or the location of your choice, or by phone anywhere in the continental U.S.

This is an annual event sponsored by the Big Chicken Barbershop Chorus, and is a fabulous treat! My dad's quartet - Martha's Finest always participate, and won't disappoint!

If you're interested in learning more, view the online order form here.

(Tim, Dad, Danny and Tony)

Looking back, I should have known better

I really should have. Somewhere along the way, though, my desire for a decadent, chocolate-y treat overwhelmed my rational senses and assured me that yes, you can just "microwave and enjoy". That should have been my first clue. Instead, hell-bent on a scrumptious, swift snack, I blew right past the key point of this new recipe - the fact that it tells you how to make a CAKE in a CUP in the MICROWAVE.

I am referring to the now infamous "Most Dangerous Cake Recipe In The World", which I received via email earlier this year. Complete with pictures touting its ooey goodness, I kept the email for future reference, and recently unearthed it while cleaning out my inbox. Short on time, but yearning for some chocolate relief, I printed it out and headed home.

"You're never more than 5 minutes away from a fresh, warm chocolate cake" the email taunted, making this recipe the "Most Dangerous" one in the world. If only I had known that the danger lurked not in the ready availability of cake from here on out, but to the lump of steaming lava the recipe produced, I may not have proceeded forward so carelessly.

After mixing the ingredients as instructed, I sat my cup in the microwave and waited for the magic to unfold. Set the timer to three minutes and anxiously danced in front of the door as the mug slowly made its rounds inside the nuker.

Upon opening the door, I (carefully, with gloves) snatched my steaming mug out of the microwave and inspected the results.

Hmm... not a prize-winning cake by any means, but it was made in a mug! in a microwave, for goodness sakes! Do you want deliciousness or attractiveness?! (DELICIOUSNESS!) You can't get it all in a 3 minute recipe, folks! No need to be picky! So, I carefully ran my knife along the edges and turned out my spoils onto my plate.

Well, from the looks of it, spoils might not have been such a bad choice of words. It seems as if the optional chocolate chips all decided to migrate towards the bottom of the mug, and OH MY! What is that smell?!?

Well, I'm not 100% sure, but I believe that may be the stench of burnt semi-sweet chocolate chips which has wafted up from my decadent creation and permanently lodged itself in my nose. Yum-O.

The smell almost prevented me from even trying a bite of this 'dessert', but I braved a taste from the top side. A mistake that I lived to regret. The consistency was that of play-dough that had been left out most of the afternoon, then heated for 3 minutes in the microwave with some questionable chocolate chips. The taste was bland, at best, but I couldn't get over the scorched chips or chewy texture.

I may, however, have my standards set a little high. Chris came by, surveyed the wreckage, and proclaimed that it "looked pretty good", and I didn't even have to pin him down to get him to try a bite, after which he concluded that "it was pretty okay. Kind of like a box cake mix, but not bad. Could use some icing." Yep, icing. That's what this cake needs.

Have any of you succumbed to the siren's call of a similar dessert short cut? If so, how did you fare? Surely I'm not the only one to try and fail as a short-order (micro) chef.

Abracadabra!

I feel as if I have just discovered the secret to a show-stopping magic trick. I just laid Hayden in her crib, and she instantly curled up with her bear and rolled over, resting quietly for several minutes as she got ready to go to sleep. No sobs, no tears, no screaming and flailing for Mommie. Just some final adjustments and wiggles as she settled herself down to sleep. It's amazing. After a year of helping me to intimately understand just how little sleep one really does NEED to survive on, Hayden feels that I have sufficiently learned that lesson and is ready to move on to another.

It's not that Hayden wasn't a great sleeper, or fought bedtime every night. It's just been this hodge podge of issues - allergies, anxieties (hers and mine), illnesses (hers and mine), schedule changes and challenges, trips and troubles, you name it. It's kept us from getting a full night's sleep in over a year. The nights she has slept, I haven't. The nights I've desperately, oh so desperately! wanted to sleep, she hasn't. This continual tug of war that I was sure was going to leave me face first in the mud before all was said and done has suddenly slacked, and I see my opponent has succumbed to the sweet slumber I myself so long for.

Inexplicably, she has begun going to bed on her own much easier. I began a few weeks ago, prepping her about an hour before bedtime that it was coming. I'd tell her what all we were going to do - diaper, pjs, stories, tooth brushing, nursing, and video, or some combination of those, and then we were going to sleep. Once we were done, I'd lay her down in her crib, and lay in my bed nearby. She would stand up and scream and reach for me. I would quietly comfort her and tell her it was bed time, and in all but her most extreme cases, she would soon flop back down, curl up with Bunny Bear, and began tossing and turning as she wore herself down.

Last night, my first night back in town, she cried for less than a minute and then spent 20 minutes going to sleep afterwards. Tonight, when I laid her down, even though both her daddy and I were still in the room and talking, and he kept coming in and out for several minutes after (thanks, Chris), she laid right down and began nodding off. No ifs, ands, or buts. I'm still in shock. AND! And, she sleeps almost nearly through the night, if not all the way through! That's as much, if not more, of a miracle than the going to sleep. Her big issue has been staying asleep these last 13 months, not getting to sleep. Now, she is sleeping like an old pro! This, despite all the turmoil and upheaval of the last few weeks.

Now, for my next trick, I will make vegetables irresistible to her! You'll want to hang around for this one, folks! It's sure to be a doozy!

"Little Miss Perfect"

Spending the last two days rotting in a hotel room fighting a viscious stomach flu has reaffirmed my decision to forgo spending a small fortune on television. There is so little worthwhile to watch, but sitting in this cramped room staring at the walls with only the sound of my piteous moaning was not a fun option.

One show that I came across totally and absolutely freaked me out. Called "Little Miss Perfect", it documents self-described beauty queens and their journey to win the crown, or at least their attempt. These beauty queens aren't teens or young adults, though, they're barely walking and talking toddlers and young girls. I'm not trying to start a war on this subject; I know there are people firmly rooted on both sides. That said, holy crap that show freaked me out!

I think my daughter is Little Miss Perfect, but I hope to all that's holy I never feel the need to give her a spray tan, false teeth, hooker-worthy makeup, and dragster-quality wigs, and combine that with a mini-Britney style outfit and let her 'shake her thing' in front of a crowd of adults and let them judge her against a lineup of her similarly freaked-out peers in order to prove that to me or to her. There was no part of that show or those families that didn't disturb me, especially the mom that kept explaining that her daughter just "wasn't competitive enough", and was "apparently okay with being average" since she wasn't dedicated to her rehearsals. I just cringed watching those little babies cry when they didn't want their hair teased, or their ribs squeezed by their dresses, or when they find out that they're not "Little Miss Perfect." I cringed even more watching the more pageant-saavy ones throw winks to the judges and performing dance moves that should come with parental warnings for a man touted as a "premier" pageant judge, who skeeves me out just watching him stare at these innocent dears. The gay director, who loved the sound of his own voice enough to write a song that he feels the need to sing at each and every pageant, was the piece de resistance. Watching him tell the girls to "own it" was more than I could bear.

I admit it. It is absolutely beyond me why any parent would do that to their child, except those that are trying to live vicariously through their genetically gifted offspring. I hear them say that the pageants give their girls "confidence", but I see a troup of girls learning to present themselves for judgement based on how they look, how they dress and how they stack up next to their friends. One parent explained that it's a fact that "better looking, more attractive people do better in life, make more money and go farther than those who aren't". Tell me this thing isn't a beauty contest, flat out.

I hope to God that my sweet, happy, stunningly beautiful, amazingly intelligent little girl never feels the need to compare herself to anyone else to know that, in my eyes,in her daddy's eyes, in God's eyes, and anyone else who matters, she will always be perfect.

For now, I'm going to go back to bed and writhe awhile and see if there is anything else nearly as pointless on the tube.

Winter Wonderland

A shot of our driveway and pond as the snow started coming down yesterday. It was a heartbreaking day for our family as we said goodbye to Chris's dad, and the silent snowfall added a beautiful, somber note to the bleary afternoon. The world's loss is certainly Heaven's gain.

We'll always love you, Papa.

First Haircut

After months of delays, excuses and foot-dragging, I finally acquiesed tonight to my Mother-in-Law's appeals to cut Hayden's hair. Our family friend, Barbara, who is an accomplished stylist, was over visiting, and the subject of Hayden's mullet somehow came up. Thinking that this activity would offer us all a good distraction, I mentioned it might be nice if she could help me out by cutting Hayden's hair. Getting her to agree was no problem at all, and soon we had Hayden plopped on the counter, hair slicked, and objects of entertainment on hand.

At first, Hayden was relatively calm, allowing Barbara to comb her hair without protest, although she kept a wary eye on her.

Hayden watched as Mommy practiced all sorts of magic tricks and noises as the true cutting got underway, keeping things calm for another minute or so, as Barbara dove in to the task of chopping that mullet off, and Grandma watched on.

Alas, the serenity would be shattered shortly after, when Hayden figured out the true plan. She let us know that this would not be tolerated quietly! As you can see, her Mommy was taking her threats very seriously.

Barbara made quick work of it, and we were soon done, with nothing left to do but sweep up the (enormous amount of) hair that fell victim to the shears.

After some consideration (and cracker bribes), Hayden decided that she was pretty happy with her new 'do, although poor Barbara would remain on her list the rest of the night.

Here, Hayden shows off a beautiful profile shot of her classy new style.