It is finished

11:27pm.  I can breathe again.

And now we are three

Here is the cake:

(Hard to believe it was homemade, huh?)

That caused this face:

(She still has a blue ring around her mouth)

The Pepper turned three on Saturday. It was a day filled with presents such as this awesome set of bongos that Pickle came up with all by herself:

There was also a double doll stroller, play kitchen toys and a stuffed dolphin.

Then it was off to lunch at Cheeseburger, Cheeseburger --- which ironically, has some of the best vegetarian fast food in the city. Following that was a trip to the local toy store to see The Great Zucchini perform. This guy is the Pied Piper of children's performers. We could never afford to have him for a birthday party but the show was small and he found out beforehand that it was Pepper's birthday so he made a big deal of it as if it were her own party. At the end, she shyly walked up to him and said, "Thank you Mr. Chini for coming to my birthday."

Next stop: Chuck E. Cheese. My eyes are still bleeding, but the girls love it. We only hit it about four times a year which is pretty good since we live less than two miles from the place.

FYI, Saturday visits...bad.

Then we were off for the annual picnic at Pickle's school where she won:

The cakewalk.


Because really, who doesn't need four pounds of cake in the house at one time? Add to that, we have a small party at Pepper's daycare tomorrow with, yup, cupcakes.

You can have your cake and eat it too, it just makes you really, really nauseous.

The best book ever!

Anyone Can Build a Tub-Style Mechanical Chicken Plucker
Pluck a chicken in 15 seconds with one finger? You bet! With a little mechanical ability, basic carpentry skills and some scrounging of parts, you can build your plucker for less than $500. The perfect addition to a small-scale poultry operation. Easy-to-read, step-by-step instructions for making your own plucker. (Also plucks turkeys, geese and ducks.) Kimball, 8 1/2"x11", 60 pp.

I'm getting you one for Christmas.

You can thank me later.

A Smoothie By Any Other Name

We are raising vegetarian children who don't eat vegetables.  Yup.  Pickle will occasionally allow a piece of broccoli to cross her lips, but mostly she'll only eat it if it has a certain sauce from a certain Chinese restaurant in town.  I have tried to duplicate the sauce to no avail.  She'll eat tiny mushroom fragments in a particular brand of couscous.  But other than that, she turns her nose up. Pepper is a little more adaptable but it sort of depends which way the wind is blowing and whether or not she can eat it directly off mine or her father's plate.

Fruit is a different story.  The girls LOVE fruit. They will even chose fruit over candy (okay, not all the time, but still...) and eat plenty of it.

But man, the vegetables.

Even though we don't eat meat, they basically eat the same sort of things most kids eat these days: pizza, chicken nuggets (soy), pasta, hot dogs (soy), yogurt, peanut butter.

I put veggies out at dinner, but I don't demand that they eat them.  This is a personal parenting preference, but I think that forcing them to eat something they don't want might help them in the short-term but not for a lifetime of eating well and making good food choices.  And once in a while, the girls try something new- we haven't stumbled upon any gold mines yet, but I remain hopeful.

It's ironic that as a child, the only vegetables I ate were corn and potatoes. Although there was an occasional apple and a few bananas here and there.  I was eighteen and at a college cafeteria when I suddenly had an inexplicable urge for the canned peaches at the salad bar.  Two years later I began my journey away from eating meat.

The point of all this is that I have started "supplementing" food.  My hope is that sooner rather than later we will stumble into some more nutritious and adventurous eating on the part of the Pickle and the Pepper. Until then, I add shredded zucchini to potato pancakes, tiny little imperceivible carrots to sweet potato slices or spaghetti sauce (which is suspect in and of itself to the girls) and the occasional pepper into whatever I think I can successfully hide it.  

And my newest discovery:  Spinach to the smoothies. 

I didn't believe the websites when they said the girls wouldn't notice, but low and behold: the color doesn't change much and the taste is the same.

I just have to get up twenty minutes earlier than them now so they can't what I put into it.  I'll tell them the truth when they hit college.

Is that a banana in your pocket?

This is a banana bunker. It's supposed to keep your banana from getting mashed in your lunch box.

No, really.

If you have to have one, you can order it here.

My New Favorite Bumper Sticker

"Come to the dark side. We have cookies."

Are you really this desperate?

I've been a full-blown vegetarian for more than 10 years now. People ask me why I chose this path and depending on the situation, my answer can be rather complex.

I think I have found a better way to describe it:

Because you people have now resorted to eating cat food.

Please pass the broccoli.

I'll leave the light on for you.

Any of you suffer from insomnia? I go through bouts of it - having an episode tonight. Most of the time I start off sleeping, get into bed, start to doze off, maybe even actually sleep for an hour or so and then suddenly I'm awake and I can't go back to sleep. My mind races over and over about the same old things- usually about money. I get itchy and restless, I have this weird sensation that the outside of my skin is a different temperature than the inside layers of my skin.

Tonight, my mind was freaking out about how I am going to pay the school deposits for both the Pickle and the Pepper next year... in February. Yes, more than nine months away. Now you understand the lunacy of my insomnia.

Different things work at different times. Deep breathing, stretching, yoga, meditation. Tonight my brain was way too wired for that. So I got up and made a list. Then I started picking up and de-cluttering. I may even resort to balancing my checkbook, I'm that desperate.

After an hour of cleaning up, I walked away because clearly that wasn't helping me go back to sleep.

So now I'm here. Playing catch up a little with you so that maybe my inner task-master hamster will be assuaged (how 'bout that word at 1:23am?!?!), get off her little spinning wheel and nest down into some soft bedding for the night.

We went camping over Memorial Day weekend in western Maryland. Great time- a bit chilly the first two nights and a couple of whippoorwills staying up all night playing "Marco Polo", but other than that...Pepper was so exhausted at the end of each day she slept and slept and slept. We were camping with a group from our church so Pickle had a few of her friends to keep her company. We marveled at how she handled and enjoyed a bit of freedom as she and her friends hung out around the campsite in their own little pack instead of looking to the parents to keep them entertained.

Yes, I did actually go see Duran Duran. The first couple of songs they played were from their latest album and they were fine but once they started playing the classics ("Hungry Like the Wolf" was the first), it was like they were still 25 and I was still in junior high school cutting out pictures of Simon and taping them to my room like a giant decoupage project and holding my tape recorder next to the radio, my finger poised over the "record" button in case they played my request. So much fun. And a surprising number of twenty-somethings there. I'm horrified to think that the reason they were at the concert was probably because they grew up listening to Duran Duran as their parents played it.

Here's how I know my life is actually a sitcom: The other morning as me and the girls are in our typical rush to get out the door for school/daycare/work, I get everyone in the car when the Pickle announces she hasn't eaten breakfast. She's been having trouble waking up as of late and she hasn't wanted breakfast first thing so that day it just sort of got lost in the shuffle.

I ran back into the house to get her a small bowl of Koala Crisp (the organic version of Cocoa Crispies) cereal sans milk, which luckily is how she prefers it. I turn around to take the box back to the cupboard when I misjudge how high I have it above the counter and the box grazes the top of the bowl sending it sliding off the counter. Amazingly, I reach back just in time to catch the bowl and none of the four billion little pieces spill out.

Feeling pretty proud of myself having averted the disaster and showing some finesse in the rescue, I have a little extra spring in my step, which serves to bounce me right off the glass when I walk straight into the closed sliding door. Those four billion pieces scattered everywhere in what I like to call an ad hoc scavenger hunt for the dogs.

Nice huh. What I lack in grace I make up in showmanship, that's for sure. All I need is a laugh track and I could be the next Julia Louise Dryfuss.

Well, folks, I think it may actually be time for me to try that whole sleep thing again. I'm probably not going to edit this post given the time, so you'll forgive me if it's a bit incoherent in the morning.

And if I wake up those of you with Blackberries by the bedside then it's your own fault for signing up for the RSS feed. But you can go back to sleep now. This has all just been a dream.

Is There Something I Should Say?

Hi.

I've been thinking about you.

I have lots to share, just no time to share it.  But I promise, I'm coming up for air in the next week when the end of school and all that it encompasses comes to pass on Friday.

Meanwhile I'm busy making aromatherapy stress-releasing wraps for all of Pickle's teachers.

The irony is not lost on me.

I promise, I'll be back soon and you'll be reveling in the stories about the minutia of my life.  

Lucky you.

Not the least of which was attending an event that I've waited twenty-three years for.  I'll give you a hint:

See you soon!

Random Friday Musings

• Robins are building nests in the tangle of thorny bushes that edge the parking lot near my window. I keep going outside and cutting strings from the weed guard poking out from the rocks because I hate to see the birds spend so much time pulling on it like worms from the ground but with so little success. I don't really think they appreciate how much easier I've been making their lives. Birds are self-absorbed like that.
  
  


• The Pickle has her first loose tooth. She flits between being over-the-top excited about this milestone and trying not to go over the falls in a panic becuase when the tooth falls out there may be the tiniest bit of....BLOOD!!!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

She's informed us that she wants us to start packing extra-crunchy fruit in her lunch so that her tooth will fall out, but not bananas. Not because they are squishy but because one of her friends lost a tooth biting into a banana and it then tasted just...like...BLOOD!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!

Biting into a banana? Really? I think it's just as likely that the tooth saw the banana coming and jumped out onto it.

• Do you read the blog "I Am Bossy?" If not, you really should. I would even go so far as to say that even if you have no more time in your life to read even one more blog then you should stop reading my blog you lame-o and for God's sake go catch up with Bossy's life. http://www.iambossy.com/
  
  


• And for that someone special in your life - the best gift ever.

You can thank me later.

Emotional Junk Food

I’ve been working on the concept of happiness lately. For many, many years I viewed myself as the president of the Optimist’s club- if there were such a thing as president, but if I were president, I would probably make everyone co-presidents right along with me because, hey, we’re all optimists here, so since we can all see things in the most positive of ways, we can all work together, right?

As a side note, for those of you who wouldn’t even step foot in a room where you might be mistaken for an optimist, I realize how terribly annoying I could be.

But in the last couple of years, reality, or at least my perception thereof, has entered my house like a thief and kicked the optimism right out of me; threw it in a burlap bag and ran out with it to sell at some local pawn shop. Unfortunately, along with my optimism, it also took, hope, energy and a large stash of my happiness and left behind anger, despair, pessimism and loneliness. Yeah, for those of you who haven’t seen me in a while, I’m a real joy to be around these days. Finally though, I’ve started taking care of myself again and am trying to rekindle these concepts that were so much a part of who I used to be. I liked me back then. I’d like to be more of me.

So, I’ve been reading books about happiness, worked on shifting my perceptions and my thoughts , breathed a who lot more and started asking myself better questions- like instead of “Why is this so f***ked up,” I might say, “Is there a way to consider this differently?” Of course this is a process and a relearning of sorts, so often times the question is ‘Is there a way to consider this F**ked up shit differently?” It’s a start.

I’ve also recently started looking at how I spend my time now versus how I used to spend my time. It’s kind of like those magazine articles that promise you’ll lose ten easy pounds and then reminds you of things like, “use mustard instead of mayo on your sandwich” or “brew your own cup of green tea at home instead of spending $10 and 3500 calories on your half-caff. double espresso vanilla latte.” I realize how much I indulge in “emotional junk food”- things that give me a quick fix of…something. I would say joy exactly, but these things work as a salve, or as a numbing mechanism- which in the absence of joy is sometimes all we’ve got.

Here they are in no particular order:

1) Junk food- Now it’s no secret to anyone who knows me that I love me some French fries in a way that’s almost unnatural. Unfortunately, they’ve become a staple- so has soda –which I only drank occasionally for years and never kept in the house and there has been a decided lack of vegetables in my diet- unfortunate for a vegetarian. Time to stop buying processed foods and sugar laden beverages. I see a refrigerator exorcism coming into my life very soon.

2) Lack of exercise- Lots of excuses for this one, none of them particularly legitimate. I’m the heaviest I’ve been except when I was pregnant. One of my difficulties is that I often have an all or nothing approach to exercise- either I’m working out at peak intensity for the maximum time every day or I’m doing nothing at all. My plan for this one is to bring workout clothes to work and change into them when I am leaving – I have about 45 minutes between getting out of work and picking up the Pickle and then Pepper. I should use it for something more than errands or crossword puzzles.

3) Lack of sleep- Pepper and Pickle are not champion sleepers. Knowing this, one might accommodate by going to bed earlier so extra sleep can be banked when needed. I, however, choose to stay up and watch reruns of Two and a Half Men and Sex in the City to see if that might work instead. Yeah, it doesn’t.

4) TV- I love tv. Love it. I’ll never be able to turn it off completely, but I am actively working to cut back. I get stuck when the Pepper refuses to go to bed and she and I head downstairs to the playroom. There’s no hope for me then. (I have however, cancelled one newspaper and actively try and avoid the news -on tv, online and in print - I can't emotionally take it anymore).

5) Computer- I spend a ridiculous amount of time playing meaningless games online. It started out as something to do when Pepper was nursing and I couldn’t use two hands to catch up on emails. But it goes way beyond that now. I have a problem. At least it’s not Evercrack.

6) Lack of quiet/ reflection time. (See numbers 4 and 5 above.)

7) Time for myself. This is the one I am able to actively do the least about. The Land Baron is working ungodly hours usually six days a week right now and a babysitter on a consistent basis is financially out of the question. But I am looking into alternatives. It’s exhausting to have to do so much just to poach a little time for myself, especially when I am already exhausted and burned out. All the moms reading this are nodding in agreement right now, btw.

Ok, I could go on, but everything basically falls into these categories. Hmmm- wonder why happiness is so elusive these days? But, like a cluttered house, I am unearthing a little bit of each of these every day. My hope is that eventually it’ll be like snow falling on a branch. One flake at a time doesn’t affect much, but at some point the accumulation will cause the branch to break.

Thanks for reading, or skimming or just getting to the bottom of the page. My plan for posting this is mostly just a reaffirmation of what’s been going on in my mind. By putting it out there to all of you, it raises the stakes for me to keep pursuing these things and not go back to the methods that don’t work and zap my soul away. I’ll keep you posted.

9 P.M. And All Is Well.

I should really go to bed.

I should really go to bed.

I should really, really go to bed.

The Baron is working until 11:30pm tonight, which means at least midnight before he gets home.  The Pickle is asleep.  The Pepper is asleep.

I should really go to bed.

Kids have been sick on and off again for the last week.  The Pepper's sleep schedule is way off.  Last night she went to bed at 11:15 - which meant that the Easter Bunny hit the sack around one a.m.

I should really go to bed.

And yet, if I go to bed, I don't get to appreciate the one thing I am enjoying right now...something so rare, I almost forget it exists around here.   

Silence.

It would be a shame to waste it on something so mundane as sleep.

I should really go to bed.

In a few more minutes. 

Those Wacky Swedes

On Sunday, we took a little field trip to Ikea. I love Ikea, I can't help myself. For those of you who've never had the pleasure of visiting our little elf house covered in dog fur, it's a tiny little cottage, not unlike, I often imagine, the same type of cottage where the three bears lived. It was built in the 40's as a summer house for some of those fancy pants types in Washington D.C.. Over the years, people have added onto the house, but it's still a little place with narrow doorways and small rooms. I can't actually shop for furniture in traditional furniture stores, 1) because we can't afford real furniture and B) Real furniture is built with the giant McMansions in mind so none of it fits in my little 3/4 size house.

But Ikea. Ikea is furniture built for people in small apartments - for trendy, chic, young, upwardly mobile people who have a definite sense of style. In other words, people completely unlike me. However, their furniture fits in my house so I love it there.

On the way over, the Pickle asked what Ikea was. When I told her it was a Swedish furniture store she looked a little confused and so I asked her if she knew who the Swedish were.

Her face lit up and she answered, "Yes! Those are the people who celebrate Hanukkah!"

Excellent.

By the way, it just occurred to me that if the Pepper grows up and decides to attend medical school she'll be "Dr. Pepper."

Diamonds are a Pepper's Best Friend.

This is an actual conversation between me and the Pepper at our favorite local restaurant. Let me set the stage:

Cheeburger Cheeburger is a small chain of 50/60’s family-style sock-hop looking restaurants. Along with the music of the time, they have life-size cardboard cutout of various people, including James dean, Betty Boop and Marilyn Monroe. Pepper, two years old is eating her French fries when she spies the Marilyn Monroe cutout on the back door of the restaurant.

Pepper: Look! (Pointing at Marilyn) Dat me!

Me: That’s not you; that’s Marilyn Monroe.

Pepper: No, dat’s ME! Look, she have strong arms. (She flaps her arms delicately like a bird.) I have strong arms. She have a pretty, pretty dress. I have a pretty, pretty dress. She have…(Pepper opens her mouth and points to her teeth)…big teeth and a smile. I have big teeth and a smile. She have long hair. I have long hair.

Me: You don’t have long hair. And your hair is red, sweetie.

Pepper: (Undaunted-) She have nose, and cheeks and ears! I have nose, cheeks and ears.
Pepper: Gasp- LOOK! She have little, little shoes. I have little, little shoes! Dat me!
The last line was delivered with such authority; there was no denying her argument.

Me: Ok, that’s you.

Pepper: I go touch me.

At which point she ran over and gently rubbed the arm of Marilyn.

Pepper: (To the three tables of people who had heard the conversation and were now watching her every move.) DAT ME!

Sigh.

One of the greatly endearing habits of The Pepper is that since she has been able to talk, she has referred to ice cream as "happy." Regardless of the Land Baron's obsession with the frozen dairy goodness, he did not actually teach Pepper to call it this. After dinner she asks for happy, walking through the grocery store in the ice cream aisle, she joyfully points to each container as we walk by; happy, happy, happy, happy. It's always been happy to her.

On a side note, the Land Baron's obsession with ice cream is so strong that he has it every. single. night. We have come home from plenty of large feasts, putting away food that in caloric count, could feed most of the state of Deleware and he will walk through the door, go directly to the freezer and take out the carton. When the Pickle was testing to get into Pre-K 3, she answered an analogy question like this:

Teacher: We eat breakfast in the morning and at night we eat....
Pickle: Ice Cream!

Afterwards, the Land Baron felt the need to explain to the teacher that at 2 1/2 years old, the Pickle didn't always get around to eating her dinner, but she did have ice cream every night with her father and therefore understood the concept of the question.

Yesterday however, was a sad day in our house. After dinner, Pepper walked to the fridge and said "Ice cream please." and I said, "Happy?" and she said, "No ice cream." The Land Baron saw my sad, "I can't believe we're losing this part of her to growing up face" that I seem to have mastered over the last several years and said "I didn't want to tell you, but she asked me for 'ice cream' yesterday too. I was hoping if I ignored it, she'd forget that she said it."

Sigh....

New Moon On Monday

OK, it's Thursday. So sue me...

In November I mentioned that I was going to a Bon Jovi concert at the end of February. Apparently I am living the entire 80’s music scene all over again.

This week, one of the local radio stations had Duran Duran in studio- or rather Simon Le Bon and some new guitarist named Dom Brown since Andy Taylor is too strung out to be part of the band any longer. It was awesome! I sat in the car outside of work early, just to hear it.

Back in the day, I was a HUGE fan of Duran Duran thanks to my friend Stephanie’s older sister, Jen and her best friend Julie. We were in junior high school- insignificant and awkward, but Jen and Julie were high-schoolers and incredibly cool. Julie even worked at the local radio station and got to occasionally fill in as a DJ under her air name Julie Duran. So when they told us we needed to love Duran Duran, we of course, took their advice. Rooms were plastered with the requisite Tiger Beat and Teen magazine photos – songs were recorded off the radio using a tape recorded held up to the speaker after we called in and requested their latest hit – dances were choreographed to Union of the Snake – The latest James Bond Film (A View to a Kill) was seen because the theme song was performed by Duran Duran. The only thing I never got to do was see them in concert- a victim of my own youth and the fact that Duran Duran didn’t perform anywhere within 400 miles of my hometown.

Most of my friends were gaga over the pretty-boy John. I preferred the silent Roger and practically fainted over the ruggedness of Simon. So what if his pitch is only fair even on the best days.

And sure, as I have gotten older, I have lived in places where I could have seen a concert. But for a while, in an attempt to move past their youthful foolishness, Duran Duran made the unfortunate decision not to play any of their old hits in concert. Roger and Andy left the band. Then John did. Simon and Nick carried on but ran through drummers and guitarists and bass players like a bad version of Spinal Tap. I just couldn’t bring myself to see them live.
Are you fascinated by this yet? I thought so.

Anyway, at some point the boys woke up, realized they weren’t going to have a career without their old fans and reunited the band – although Andy never quite made it back – and started playing their old hits again. Turns out, everybody still wanted to hear them.

Now they have a new album and a new tour starting later in the year. Wanna go with me? Come on, you know you want to…

Yeah!

Anybody notice it's snowing outside? :)

The best thing about my little desk at my little office is that I have a window in front of me that my desk is shoved up against. (Note: I realize the grammar police would quickly ticket me for this sentence since it should read "against which my desk is shoved" or something like that- but it sounds ridiculous, so instead you get bad grammar.)

Anyway, it sure looks pretty outside- too bad I forgot my boots -I'd take a walk in it before the girls got out of school and daycare.

Makes me feel like I'm in Maine -although in Maine right now they have something like 3 1/2 feet of snow on the ground.

If you are in Maryland, I hope you have the chance to enjoy it while it lasts.

Now We Are Six

It's a little late, but here are a few highlights from the Pickle's pet-themed party:

            Mmmmm...butter cream frosting

   What dreams do 6 year olds wish for?

     15 kids do some damage to a cake.

 A little swag left over from The Golden Globes.

The best part of a big sister's birthday - the cheesy puffs!

Happy birthday Pepper!  We love you!