Surrendering the Crown

Although two days ago my yard was covered in several inches of snow, today's 70 degree temperatures were absolutely lovely.  I made "picnic lunch by the lake" cut in line before all the errands that had to be run today.  The Bean and I found a sunny patch of grass and stared at the ducks on the lake while eating.  She was casually leaning on my lap and in that moment in time, all was absolutely perfect.

That's about when I realized that I'd created a monster.

The Bean began to dip her PB&J sandwich into ranch dressing.  Oh my.  Now, to be fair, I instilled in her the love of ranch dressing.  Good ranch dressing is the perfect pair for a great many things.  Salads, yes, but also french fries, pizza, tortilla chips, assorted veggies and pretzels.  I brought it along to enhance our carrot sticks and broccoli.  The Bean told me I should dip my pretzel sticks and I eagerly obliged, because yes, that was delicious.  But I draw the line at mixing peanut butter and/or jelly with ranch.

She might outrank me in the Ranch Dressing Lover department.  Well played, wee one.

-m

Dollar Store Adventures

I would just like to inform the lady "in front of me" in line at Dollar Tree that:

- If you are in the general vicinity of the cash registers, it doesn't actually make it clear that you are in fact, in line.

- Browsing the sunglasses rack while in the general vicinity of the cash registers actually makes it look like you are more "still shopping" and less "ready to checkout, therefore standing in line."

So that's why I was standing awkwardly there, trying to figure out just how to get in line behind the person who was putting their 127 individual dollar items on the conveyor.  It's also why I was a little confused/annoyed when our conversation consisted of,

You: "Um, are you with her?" (pointing to person obviously mentioned)

Me: "Uh...no." (furrowed brow)  "Are you in line?"

You: "Um, yes!" (turning to check to make sure you'd seen ALL of the sunglasses choices)

It took a lot for me to not jab you with my $1 pool noodle.

-m

Love Letter/Not-So-Much Letter

Dear Husband,

Thank you for kissing me goodbye every morning.  It may not seem like I notice, but it usually rouses me into enough consciousness to smell your cologne.  It makes me happy.  I love you.

-m


Dear AT&T,

I did not appreciate being woken up by your automated customer satisfaction survey this morning.  Yes, I was pleased with the service I received yesterday but here's a little hint: asking my opinion by interrupting my sleep isn't going to get the most favorable/accurate answers.

-m


Dear Telephone,

Where the hell is the volume control for the answering machine?

-m

A Helpful List for Drivers on Central Expressway

Do use the fastlane for:

-passing on the left
-faster driving (hence "fast"lane)
-going with the speed of traffic


Do not use the fastlane for:

-applying make-up
-shaving
-reading
-enjoying your breakfast
-butt crunches
-texting your friends about The Bachelor
-phoning your friends to tell them you texted them about the Bachelor
-daydreaming about how you are the best match for The Bachelor - if only he knew the real you!
-going under the speed limit
-generally behaving like a giant DeutscheBank
-angering me by doing any of the above

Love,

Klem

(In Your Pants) (Second in the Series)

"Many successes will accompany you this year."
"Be prepared to accept a wondrous opportunity in the days ahead!"

Obviously, my pants are on high alert.

-k

How to make Dinosaur Sugar Cookies

My two-year-old loves dinosaurs.  I know that most kids have a dinosaur phase, but really, this is more of an obsession.  She has several dinosaur encyclopedias and books and an awesome stamp set.  She rearranges all of the big and tiny cheap dinosaur plastic toys every day in the house.  There is always a dinosaur convention in session.  It's been held on the kitchen table, the coffee table, the middle of the kitchen floor, on top of our dog's crate, on the couch cushions, on my body, etc.  It's quite amusing.  She'll help you out with the technicalities if you mistakenly call one of her dinosaurs a "long neck."  Silly you.  It's obviously an Apatosaurus.  "That's not a T-Rex.  It's a Deinonycus."  Or maybe Allosaurus, Parasaurolophus or Ankylosaurus.  Her latest vocabulary wonder is "Archaeopteryx."  This kid scares me.  Seriously.  In a good way.

At any rate, she got an early big sister gift the other day that was a big hit.  Dinosaur cookie cutters.  Awe-some.  We whipped up a batch of cookies right away because it was much more appealing to make a bigger mess of the kitchen than tackle the cleaning up part.  Or mopping.  Ick.  The making cookie process was a bigger hit than the eating of actual cookies.

How to make Dinosaur Sugar Cookies- A Two-Year Old's Perspective

1. Have your mother make a batch of sugar cookies. "Help" dump the ingredients in a bowl. Get VERY EXCITED about making several different colors of cookies. Pay no mind to the stained hands of your mother, who thought about adding color after the dough was finished.

2. Drag your chair to the counter and help push cookie cutters in the dough. Sneak bites of cookie dough. In true baker form, get flour all over your shirt.

3. Name all the dinosaurs. Sneak bites of cookie dough. Point out that your mother broke off T-Rex's midsection. Share the obviously wrecked cookie with your mother.

4. Peer into the oven and wait for the cookies to bake. Toss the dish towels aside so that you get a better view. Put dish towels on dog. Ask to have another bite of cookie dough from the bowl. Share it with the dog.

5. Eat cookies. Name each dinosaur. Dance off your sugar high in the kitchen.

-m

Lent

At my church, the practice of giving something up for Lent is a voluntary decision.  I never really observed it growing up, but have since reconnecting with church after my college organized religion hiatus.  I've always given up Coke, Dr. Pepper and all sugary, carbonated forms of deliciousness.  My body has always been pleasantly surprised come Easter.  Apparently, not enough to actually make me give them up forever.  Life is WAY too short to not enjoy soda.  Not diet.  Not half-ass diet.  And certainly not soda with gimmicky flavors.  Full strength real stuff.  With real sugar if available (shout out, Dublin Dr. Pepper!).

It would be a lot easier to cheat or at least opt out of the soda-drought if not for my husband.  He's all good and determined.  He eats a salad and mixed fruit for lunch.  He can say things like, "I'm just going to have to cut out snacking after dinner."  And he'll actually follow through with it.  He and my conscience mean that in a few weeks I'll be sitting in the hospital with my newborn son, smiling at him and giving him a million kisses and telling him that I'm such a lucky, lucky girl to have two perfect kids.  And ice cold Coke.  And possibly a chocolate bunny.

-m