Dog Food Cookies By: Pinterest

Meet Angela. Angela is not good baking, but she is VERY good at other things like ... ... ... well. Other things. Angela often visits a magical world that promises things like:

1. Organization at the click of a mouse
2. A new kitchen pinned to a mythical, non stressful, non anxiety ridden, "board"
3. Clothes that will look good on any body type
4. Riding boots that will fit over large calves 
5. All the recipes that will ALL turn out delicious and magazine ready 

But the magical world was EVIL and full of so many lies; she quickly realized that:

1. Organization wasn't attainable and involved having to clean on a SCHEDULE wtf - which resulted in so much Clorox wipes that Angela didn't have finger prints anymore
2. A new kitchen that you could pin to a board, but said kitchens were so laden with MARBLE that they weren't even efficient much less practical
3. Clothes that ... Just. NO!! Scarves cannot be worn as tops!! OMG.
4. Lies, lies and more LIES!!!
5. All the "cookie" recipes turn out to look like dog food:
   
   
   

This evil world is known as Pinterest. Where Angela's soul is stolen, where innocent men and women are led to believe that Barbies can be baked into a cake. An evil, unattainable, Barbie cake where the cake is her dress and somehow ... THAT'S OK. This is NOT OK!! Barbie is a doll and she is meant to be loved and live in a Dream House. I never had BARBIE baked into a cake in my childhood and did I end up OKAY?????????? DID I!!?!?!!!

One night, in order to attempt happiness for her three children, who only want to eat sugar, live in sugar, and one day grow up to BE sugar. Angela set out to make these:

Semi healthy. Presumably delicious. Golden brown. Circular. 

As usual, she followed the directions to a GD T, and said a silent prayer that THIS would be the recipe to renew her faith in baking, in Pinterest. 

But Paradise is lost. Utopia is but a myth. Unicorns are DEAD IN QUICKSAND because ... Angela wants you to see what the "cookies" came out looking like:

Just so we're clear: On the LEFT is dog food and on the RIGHT is dog food are the PEACH PIE COOKIES!!! 

WHAT IN THE LITERAL FUCK. 

Angela, as well as the children, tasted the "cookies" because MAYBE, just maybe, they tasted better than they looked. As they tasted the "cookies" one by one by one a sadness came over them: 

But. Angela knew this was basically going to be a shit show so she rallied and was all: 

With regards to the outcome of her "cookies."

Angela knew, deep down, that Pinterest had whore-like, sad, hopeless qualities; which this recipe only affirmed. In fact, Angela now takes solace in the fact that Pinterest ranks right up there with ...

As a dangerous, highly UNsanitary world, full of false hope. For when gynecologists say, "There's no summer's eve in Summer's Eve." Angela knows they are actually saying:

DANGER: Douching or Pinterest-ing. It's basically THE SAME THING.

The end.

Odds & Ends and Jon Snow

Lookit this beautiful Texas sunset!! 

While this is beautiful, it doesn't even do it justice.

They are really spectacular. This was from a few weeks ago and it was so beautiful, it was worth driving and taking the picture at the same time. Sorry, Mom. Mother Nature made me do it.

Speaking of wine! Our electric wine opener had been on the fritz for a while. She was really magical. I have never been able to open wine manually, so she had literally saved my life on multiple occasions. Then she finally died. Part of a cork got stuck in the side of her inside manual part and she just ... had enough. We got her as a shower gift back in 2010 so she had a really good run. Here's my wine "area" when she was still alive and kicking ... for those who don't know her she's on the far right (RIP Electric Wine Thingy):

I know. This picture calms me down too.

When she died, I realized life was about to get real. One night OK maybe more than one night I had my very smart husband teach me how to use the manual wine opener. He makes it all look so easy! BUT!! I'm proud to say that under his steed, this Momma has MASTERED the art of manual wine opening. In fact, we're considering putting this little guy on our insurance policy! Also, when he's not in use, doesn't he look like a parrot? 

Parrot? Or life saving device?

This still calms me. I think the crystals AND the wine, is the key.

So since:

Kids = Wine  

That brings us to Jon Snow. Mike and I are big Game of Thrones fans but, for the obvious reasons, we don't watch the show until the kids are asleep. Lately, this has been the conversation in the car: 

Abigail: Dah, let's say our alphabet!!!
Matthew: Well. Jon Snow doesn't know his alphabet.
Abigail: I know. He only says his numbers. He says his alphabet as Sunshine, sunny, sunny, sun, sunshine, sunshine, sun, sun, sun ... 

Or ...

Matthew: Abigail, what'd you learn today.
Abigail: Nothing. Like Jon Snow. He doesn't know his letters.

Or ... 

Someone at the dinner table: What was your favorite part of the day?
Abigail or Matthew: Jon Snow didn't have a favorite part of the day because he doesn't know his letters.

Or, while I was writing this blog and looking at pictures of Jon Snow ...

Matthew: Doesn't Jon Snow remind you of Uncle Michael?

I don't know why, they are so fixated on Jon Snow:  Pictured for reference 

Hellooooo, Kit Harrington!

OK OK OK OK ... So mayyybe I do know why they are so fixated on him.

Regardless, the fact that Jon Snow doesn't know his letters cracks me up. Pretty sure, at some point, Jon Snow will be our only hope. And wine ... 

These are some of the things my favorite LIVING things cannot do ...

All of our kids are good at SOMEthing. I don't care how disrespectful, or bad at listening they are, they are good at something. Believe me. It's not lost on me that kids are blessings.

But, it's also OK to acknowledge that our little blessings aren't 100% all of the time; and aren't perfect at everything all of the time. Fortunately, for you, I have come to terms with my purpose in life:

To make others feel good about ALL THE THINGS that may go wrong in their lives because everything, but especially craft things and cooking things, tends to go wrong in MY life. But I ESPECIALLY do not craft.

I struggle because I feel like I hit the kid jackpot because I have three kids who, at my helm, love getting lost, new adventures and have really, really GREAT self esteem. But then, I just can't deny that they are really,  realllllllly BAD at a lot of things. Maybe this just means I need to get out more?

Here are just a few of things at which my favorite things do NOT excel:

1. Brushing their teeth
Regarding this most mission critical act of personal hygiene, my kids are awful. Meaning, they are forever brushing their teeth. I get that it's the go-to stall tactic at bedtime. But my kids use this as their stall tactic for existing in life. Weekends? Brushing their teeth. Before we are leaving for anywhere? Brushing their teeth. Late to get anywhere? Someone's brushing away. Always. So. Either they will need gum grafts in the next year, or we will have to start investing in toothbrush companies because I feeeeeeel like we're kinna keeping them in business right now.

Sitting ON the counter is the only effective way to brush your teeth, FYI.

Suuuuure, brushing your teeth is great until you have toothbrush dribble all over your house, your kids clothes, your clothes, your dog, your leather sectional ...

This toothbrush was soon acquired by Walter (read: the dog literally ate it).

2. Throwing things away
I cut Abigail's hair last week, and this is what she did with her hair that fell on the floor:

I'ts amazing how much we can love them. 

It's totally normal to keep your non-first-haircut-hair in a sandwich baggy, right? I know. She'll be making skin suits out of the people she keeps in her basement. It's ok. We'll stay on top of it.

3. Flushing the GD toilet
No explanation necessary. Also, this isn't singular to the males in the house ... they are all deplorable at expelling their deplorables into the potty .... and being SANITARY about it in the process ...

So. Gross.

4. Eating
These eggs are from this morning, pic taken after lunch. Yet, these Base 10 Blocks a learning tool are "cake" ... what am I missing here??? Clearly, something is being lost in translation??

As we came downstairs, from putting them to bed, I stumbled across a package of Hormel pepperoni in the playroom??? Where am I when they raid my refrigerator???

5. Distinguishing toys vs anything
These are Scrub Daddy's. We are gigantic Shark Tank fans, the Scrub Daddy is their most, if not one of their most, successful products to date. I am here to assure you that they are LIFE CHANGING!!
Here's a picture of the girls using them as dance partners:

#dontmakemecallyourdaddy

6. Using the counter top for its intended purpose
This picture was taken right before dinner but it's a good picture of what my life looks like at 8am, 10am, 11am, Noon, 1pm, 2pm ... go pick up kids ... 4pm, 5pm, 6pm ... and repeat ...

Yummmm ... honey ... Yummmm ... Chardonnay ... 

BUT!! If all their missteps mean that I get to console myself with this ... then please meet the sixth member of our family ... the effect that the three causes, cause ... sweet, sweet wine. Cheers!!

I *heart* you, Chloe!!!!

2017 Update

So far, 2017 has been off to a great start. Except for the fact that it looks like I have ringworm on my forehead where I burnt myself with the straightener ...

Not ringworm.

Fortunately, this will heal. Some wounds take longer. Like the one I received on New Years Eve, which truly blew my mind. 

You see, I love The Rolling Stones. The musicians not the magazine. Growing up, my parents exposed my brothers and me to some AMAZING music ... Motown, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Sinatra, Eric Clapton, just to name a few. It was great. NYE the kids were watching Despicable Me which has an awesome soundtrack by the way and The Rolling Stones come on during a scene and I sing along to the lyrics how I have for my ENTIRE LIFE:

"... It's just your 1930's breakdown ..." 

I hollered out to my husband to "Add this song to our playlist!! It's one of my favorites!!" He responds with, "What's the title?!" To which I respond with, "1930's Breakdown!!!" Gosh. Get it together, husband. To which he comes in to the bathroom and unloads the bombshell:

It's actually called 19th Nervous Breakdown. Love you.

SHUT UP!!!!! So you mean to tell me this isn't a song about The Great Depression!?!? Which admittedly, looking back, is odd that The Stones would be singing about that. But. My mind was/is blown. All my life. Still kinda in shock? Not sure I can trust myself? Feeling a little ... let down.

Not gonna lie, it may take a while to get over this one. So, I want to know, what's a learning experience you've had so far in 2017?

F$%& You, Eyeliner

My first experience with eyeliner was in 2010 for my bridal portraits. And!! I was I only putting it on the top lid. My justification was because I have small eyes and hooded eye lids and felt like if I lined the bottom then I'd look all smudgy and walk of shame-y. However, now that I'm pushing 40, I feel like there are just some things that have to be done; and lining your bottom lids is one of those things. Lucky for you, I decided that tonight was the perfect time to try it.

For reference, here's what a normal application of eyeliner looks like. When I see other people use eyeliner their application looks like this:

Then, I tried my hand at it. I was skittish so I only did one eye first:

Before you start in with the "Your eyes are not small," bs, they are. I'm fine with it. Basically, my cell production in the womb was really lazy. They were just too tired after growing my larger than average sized head, to "fuss" with my eyes. Whatever. It's fine.

 A few things to note:

1. Yes. Those are elf pajamas. Let's stay focused here. But, Merry Christmas, hope you all got everything you wanted.
2. Yes, I am tired.
3. See how I immediately look like I should be at a concert? Or like I slipped and fell right on my eye? Or like how I look MORE tired?!? 

And then like 30 seconds passed and I look like I've been up for four days straight ...

RIGHT!?! Awful.

You guys. Hide your trash, cause apparently I'll come scavenge in it for food. I look like such an animal!! At this point in the experiment I was feeling like eyeliner can just go die a slow death with the curling iron:

Yeah. I drew on my face. So what? I beat the eyeliner to it. Because this is basically what I was going to end up looking like anyway. Maybe we chalk this mess up to oily lower lids? Because this shit is waterproof and it's like ... all over my baggy under eyes.  

But!! Because I don't give up when I should, I said to myself, "Hey. Look. You aren't a quitter. Let's line the other lower lid." 

I mean. I just constantly torture myself with my internal dialogue. I just need to STFU sometimes!! So this is basically how THAT shit show went:

All in all, I look like the elf of your nightmares. In fact. I bet you'll have one tonight. I would/am. Don't even try to tell me that liquid would go so much better. No. It won't.  

Guys, WE CAN'T ALL BE GOOD AT ALL OF THE THINGS!! So, that's why I say f$%& you, eyeliner. #toplidonlyforLIFE

How Bullet Journaling Cost Me My Sanity and a Small Fortune

Sometimes, I feel like I still don't know who I am or what I want to be when I grow up? Sometimes, I feel like maybe there's something else out there for me? This internal dialogue usually happens in the early morning or late at night or when I'm alone in the car, because it's quiet and I forget that I am a stay at home mom. Then someone starts crying or whining or throwing up or I go on Huff Po or Facebook and read an article on how your child should be potty trained at birth/18 months. 

So! To help solve some of these feels I have, one night last month, I got on Facebook and read a post about how someone was watching Real Housewives and Bullet Journaling AND drinking wine. Immediately I was all WHAT THE!!!! Because!! I am already obsessed with two out of the three of this person's hobbies!! They are basically me but not me!! I quickly wandered over to Pinterest, searched "Bullet Journal" and fell into a dark, dark hole. If I used a bullet journal I was promised hope, DESIRE to be organized iiiii know!!!, beautiful pens that won't smear and all the notebooks that your heart could ever want. Naturally, I was all in. I created a Pinterest board, called my best friend and told her all about it and was really, really freaking excited to go shopping for my supplies. Howeverrrrrr ....

I was totally cheating on this, like, massive 18 month calendar. She has stickers, a front pocket to hold papers !!!!!, an extensive notes and address section and is so colorful and beautiful: 

But she promised me no hope of becoming an organized person over night. So, naturally I fell hard and fast for a "Design Your Own" bullet journal. Plus, a bullet journal is portable. This calendar is basically a stone tablet from the dark ages which made her SO hard to WANT to take with me. And I have to take my calendar with me everywhere because I am basically Dory. Plus, my Pinterest board of bullet journal ideas was staring at me saying bullshit like:

YOU are the pilot, you can plan your calendar exactly how you like, in any order you like, as colorful or as black and white as you like, it's how YOU like. 

Ugh. I'm so controlling. Maybe something some other Pinterest thing can solve for me? Anyway.

Being all googly eyed, I went to Target to shop for my journal. When I look back at this shopping trip now, I can recognize that I was feeling very frustrated and defeated with my ride or die, Target. They didn't really have what I was looking for and I was starting to feel sweaty and nauseated. And sometimes angry? But I rallied and pushed that down because, Target. I was really working hard to suppress thoughts like:  

WTF? Target of ALL places should have BULLET JOURNALS. I mean. Everyone is doing it. Gosh. Hop on the GD bandwagon already. 

I should know myself well enough by now, to know that this should have been a major red flag. But, judging by the amount of times I still get way too drunk, I clearly don't. So. I settled for this journal - on a scale of one to ten, it's a six because she has lines. I'm very OCD so lines mean A LOT to me, so I knew this would not end well. And boy was I right. See below for the decline of Bullet Journal #1:

I love peonies and glitter so naturally, it was love at first sight.

So much time and effort, but realized that it was a lot of effort for me. This was basically exhausting and I think I went to bed early.

Quickly, my kids decided that my bullet journal should be their bullet journal. Just like my food. 

It's basically Abigail's journal. It's fine. 

So. I don't know. I should have just threw in the bullet journal towel. But like our drunk example above and just ... well, if there's one thing I am, it's stubborn. See? We can admit our flaws. It's safe here. Anyway. I wasn't 100% about the journal above so I decided to high tail it to Barnes & Noble, because you know, let's see if we can torture ourselves a little more. And I found one without lines!! For me this was like seeing a unicorn. Situation took a nose dive when I got home; because I tried to take the price tag sticker off the front cover and it left a film. Which side note: why do they do this??? It would be so much easier if the sticker was on the back. For. the. love. Naturally, this rendered it useless. Here are pics to prove it:

See all that sticker film!! (Bottom right corner if you're blind.) Worthless journal. 

She had so much potential. But this also makes me panic a little? 

The reason I have a blank journal to show you, is that my bullet journal career?? Hobby?? Whatever we want to call it, it lasted all of 24 hours. I threw in the towel. I realized I need to stick to what works for me, like this:

I love this kind of journal. Also, if poetry was this, I'd like poetry too.

Sooooo ... I guess ... I guess now I do bullet journal??? But my bullet journal stands for Cabernet Sauvignon. The En ... 

But WAIT!!! How are you staying organized for crying out loud??

Well. I am an organizational work in progress. But to keep my dates in line and my thoughts in order I went back to drinking wine and using a CALENDAR. A beautiful, simple, ikat patterned calendar. And we are very happy together.  

Ain't she a beaut? 

Sticking to what I know.

Staying modest. And portable.

November 6, 2010

Six years. Six years that feel like a lifetime ago where I still remember every detail and feel all the feels as if they were yesterday. Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life. Not only because it was full of happiness and love and JOY but because on this day six years ago Matthew got a Dad. For the first time in his life he had a Dad. Because of this day, for the rest of Matthew's life, he has a man in his life who will not abandon him, who will love him, who will show up for him, who will guide him, who will discipline him, who will show him what success and hard work looks like. A man who will BE there. I still feel so lucky to have found someone who started my family.

Shortly after we got married Mike adopted Matthew. Signed, sealed, delivered - euphoria. Second happiest day of my life. Mike and I knew that one day, Matthew would look at his beautiful skin and realize that he's not at all in the same color family as we are - even though we are a family. We met with a counselor who told us that our concern was very valid and likely this question would not be brought up by Matthew but by other curious children. We told her we needed lots of guidance on how to navigate this specifically because the man whose DNA makes up the other half of Matthew hasn't been a part of his life (his choice) since I found out I was pregnant. She was an angel and gave us lots of great advice and talking points - that I never would have been able to come up with so eloquently on my own. Even armed with these great words, I felt a pit in my stomach that I would have to have this conversation one day. But life continued along at warp speed.

And then this Spring, in the car on a sunny day, I felt as though someone had punched me in the stomach. Matthew says:

Why is my skin not the same color as the sisters? Why do they have peach skin and I have brown skin? Am I Indian? Why do I look so different? 

His words were very demanding. There was no getting out of it. The time had come. I responded:

Do you know what color hair Nana and Papa have? Black. Like yours. Do you know whose eyes you have? Mine. Do you know how much you look like each of your sisters? So much!! Bud, families are made in all sorts of different ways and tonight I want to talk to you about how our family was made, ok? But right now you need to understand that you are made up of many different parts of our family - the color of your skin is just the way God made you. Absolutely perfect.

I will never forget that day. It truly sucks having an adult conversation with a child. Later that night we had a deeper conversation like I had promised:

Do you remember where you lived as a baby and before our wedding day? With Nana and Papa. And then Daddy found us and we got married - do you remember that? How much fun that day was? Daddy has loved you ever since he met you. And then do you remember how after Daddy married us, we had the sisters? Well some families are made after you have a wedding. Some families are made before. Some families are made by adopting children, some people have two families because they are divorced. Before Daddy found us, Mommy met a man who had black hair like you and brown skin like you and that's how you got such perfect skin. And Mommy loved you from the minute that God put you in my belly. And Nana and Papa love you so much - and your uncles love you so much - And Daddy loves you SO MUCH - everyone basically loves you SO MUCH. There's not a day of your life that you weren't loved.  

He asked a few questions in between but he loved hearing about how much he was loved. Then we looked at some pictures of when he was a baby and that's been it since. We kept it about the love. Mike and I thought it was important to not lie to him, as did the counselor. But she also said to keep things simple until their minds can handle the bigger conversations. The last thing you ever want to do is stress a child out.

That is the very long version of the importance of our wedding day. Our family story of how we were made. A day of gratitude and joy that will always hold such special meaning. When things feel hard and life feels hard and conversations feel hard I try to hold onto these sayings:

                      

                      


Cheers!

**Please know that the conversations here are personal to our family specifically between me and our child. It may not apply to all families or situations. I also know what my child can handle - emotionally and mentally and socially. Please if you decide to comment keep it kind and thoughtful. Thank you!**