I smell like ham

Tonight we brought a ham to our church small-group for dinner. As I was getting into the car to leave, I tipped the pot I was carrying the ham in too far and it dumped all down the front of me  and now I am covered in sticky ham juice. The whole ride home, the long sticky walk up the stairs. I need to go take a shower.

The other hilarious thing that happened to me today was eating a sample of pasta with alfredo sauce at costco and dropping it down the front of my shirt where it proceeded to drip down my entire belly. The real kicker was trying to discreetly flap my shirt so that the piece stuck to my stomach would fall out. It was a real knee slapper. Trust me.


two things

1. I guess I shouldn’t have been so confused when the scanner kept giving me an error message while I was using the self-checkout at the grocery store. Please remove the item from the scanner, please remove the item from the… Oh, right–my belly; I should probably back up. em-barrassing.

2. Violet really likes to wear deodorant. I have a stick of Tom’s of Maine natural deodorant that I tap on her armpits when she begs long enough. She’s very ticklish though, so while she loves wearing deodorant–it’s a very giggly ordeal.

3. You just can’t beat chili made from scratch.

Okay, so three things.


My Two Cents

Okay. First, I applaud you for riding a bike. I also applaud you for going on an actual bike ride with other riders and having the guts to wear spandex decades after it was in style.

Here is what I do not applaud: you being stupid, you thinking you are in a car and so have the same rights to the road, you not getting way over onto the shoulder when two cars are passing you, and you trying to go faster up the hill when we both know I can beat you and you should just pull over and let me pass.

Once again, I would like to reiterate that I think bike riding is awesome and you are awesome if you do it, but don’t be stupid and make people in three-thousand pound vehicles put you at risk because you won’t get over on the shoulder. Besides, hitting a bike rider would be messy.



You know what I’ve always wanted? a bumper sticker that says “I’d rather drive a Ford than push a Chevy”. Conveniently, I now drive a Ford instead of a Chevy. I’m not sure if anyone makes such a bumper sticker, but I think my chances of finding one are pretty good considering how many “I’d rather push a Chevy than drive a Ford” stickers I’ve seen. See, here’s my deal: I live in a culture with skewed values and irrelevant status symbols, and every day I have to remind myself of that. Truth be told, I’d rather drive than walk and it takes reminding sometimes when I compare my version of America’s most popular status symbol to the ones that other people drive.

Besides, when I have a cat this lazy–what more could I ask for?

If you listen closely, you can hear the snoring.



No, I’m not having twins. If I am, some doctor is losing his license if I have anything to say about that. However, once a week (or so) Violet has a playdate with a friend named Isla. They are ten days apart, so I get to experience a small picture of what it would be like to have twins. Except that when they aren’t having a ton of fun, they’re fighting like a couple of cats. No, I guess that sounds about right.

Here’s some pictures of the two of them playing the bucking bronco game with AJ.

This is how the babies ride–Walk, Walk, Walk…

This is how the ladies ride–Trot, Trot, Trot…

This is how the gentlemen ride–Gallop-a-Gallop-a-Gallop…




Yes, I see the discrepancy here–bucking broncos don’t ride but are ridden–I didn’t make the song up: it’s as old as the hills and twice as dusty.


The Consequences of Nose Picking and Other Things…

Today I asked Violet to say “AJ”. Her response?


So I recently realized that this was supposed to be Italian month. I forgot. Maybe next month. In honor of forgetting I made coconut cod and chips with a coconut-banana smoothie. Yes, it was awesome. In case you decide you want to be awesome and make it, here’s how:

1. buy fresh cod fillets, canned coconut milk, Pride of the West All Purpose Batter Mix (Haggen), potatoes, bananas.

2. cut the potatoes into wedges and coat with your own special mix of extra batter mix, black pepper, paprika, cumin, and olive oil. Bake in a sheet pan at 350 till soft. (1/2 hour?)

3. use half a can of coconut milk to mix with the batter mix till you have a soft batter to dip the fillets in. I cut my fillet in to smaller pieces because a whole fillet is too big.

5. when the potatoes are done, heat 1/4-1/3 cup canola oil in a frying pan on medium to medium-high heat. Fry the fish till golden brown or about 1-2 minutes per side.

6. Mix mayo and barbecue sauce and anything else interesting to dip your fries in.

7. Eat while still awesome and hot.

8. In a good blender, mix frozen banana chunks, the rest of the coconut milk, a little vanilla and your choice of sweetener. I used Agave nectar. Prepare your mouth for a little bit of amazingness.

Sorry, I know it’s boring to read a recipe with no pictures. I didn’t take any. However, AJ did get some great ones that demonstrate what happens when you pick your nose with marker on your fingers.


jobs i should have

If I worked for the post office, I would read all the postcards.

If I worked at Dairy Queen, I would either give people extra ice cream, or pour in their soft-serve so that the cone was as empty as possible but you couldn’t tell till you bit into it.

If I worked at a bank, I might give those exploding money packets out that they reserve for bank robbers to people I didn’t like.

If I was a painter, I would paint funny messages first and then paint over them.

If I was a typewriter, I would mind my “P’s” and “Q’s”.

If I was a baker I would definitely wear a tall bakers hat. Definitely.

If I was a pastor, I would give people a proper dunking when I baptized them…and maybe hold them under a few extra seconds for good measure.

If I was a grocery store checker, I would never stack stuff on top of bread.

If I was a dictator, I would be the nicest one ever.

If I was a doctor, I would like to–just once–gravely address a male patient and tell him he was pregnant.

If I had a hammer, I’d hammer in the morning. Because, if it was my job, then my neighbor couldn’t get mad at me.

If I was a used car salesperson, I would perfect a good cackling laugh and rub my hands together when ever someone came on the lot.

If I was a new car tester for automakers, I would take them to grocery store parking lots and jump all the curbs.

Just so you know…



1. my diaper genie smells like a giant fart every time i open it.

2. the cat is hiding under the bed and i can’t reach him.

3. violet peed on a towel

4. and then she unraveled my floss.

5. the only thing i’ve cleaned so far is the lint trap on the dryer.

6. i have to wear long pants today to hide my hairy legs..shaving is not as much of a priority when it’s this hard to do.

7. there is a dead robin on my patio

8. i just remembered that he’s been there for a week.

9. i opened my fridge to get milk and found a dvd.

10. welcome to my saturday.


Roses and Leprechauns

So, three things:

1. yes, i know its saint patricks day, but i don’t particularly care, and here’s why:

  • i’m pregnant, so no alcohol
  • but green beer never sounds good to me anyway
  • (something with irish cream does…)
  • corned beef does not sound good right now
  • or cabbage…
  • however, I make a mean Irish soda bread.
  • It’s the one day of the year where everyone claims to be part Irish. Which is annoying when you actually have some Irish in you, but not enough to wear a “Kiss Me, I’m Irish!” t-shirt, while you watch the “Irish” come out of the woodwork in search of green beer, jigs, and free kisses.

2. We’re replacing our carpet with laminate right now, so my living room is in the garage, and Violet is not a fan of all the new places she can’t go.

3. Tomorrow marks five and a half years of marriage for us. You know what? We still got it. However, my wedding bouquet does not. While moving the living room to the garage yesterday, I decided to throw it out and let it die in peace, but first–I took some pictures.


Life With the Cherry on Top

Today was a “with whip cream, sugar, and a cherry on the top” kind of day. Yes, there was that one point where I was humming pentatonic scales in my head just to keep my sanity, and there was that time where she wouldn’t stop using her sippy cup as a water gun on the cat. Violet, are you going to shake water on the cat again? Yes, Mom. Do you want a spank? Yes, Mom. Do you have any idea what I just said? Yes, Mom.

There was also that point where we sat on the couch hugging while she cried after I took the sippy cup away for the third time, and then headed to the kitchen where she sat on the counter watching and touching while I rolled out cinnamon rolls. And of course there was that point where we ran around the park picking all the dandelions just to tear them up and laugh about it… and there was that dandelion crown she forgot she was wearing long enough for her to be surprised when she found it again. And the time when she wouldn’t go down the slide till Daddy had climbed up and killed the two bugs…

Life is made up of moments that contradict. Luckily, there’s always a cherry on top.

Now, sing a musical montage in your head as you watch her climb on the “teeter-totter”.


I’m Not A Fan Of Less Sleep

Will someone please tell me why we still do the whole daylight savings thing? In other news, I’m having serious writer’s block. That being said, I am accepting all suggestions for topics to blog about. Because, lets face it: I pretty much have an opinion about anything, I’m usually right, and since you come here pretty regularly–you like what I have to say about stuff. Please leave your suggestions in the form of a comment on this post. You can comment anonymously, but you need to enter your email address (which remains private).


rain, drizzle, sprinkle..

I love living in Western Washington. I love how green it is. I love the rain. But sometimes, I really do not love drizzle. Just rain already! Get it over with and then be done. Poop or get off the pot!

Anyway, today we cooked the second half of my doughnut dough batch. This time I made all doughnut holes, and they were awesome again.

here’s a picture so you can be jealous.


Reasons Thriftstores Make My Blood Pressure Rise

So here’s the deal with me and thriftstores; I love a good bargain. I do not love going into buildings run by senior citizens trying to scalp people. Usually a good rule of thumb is; if you could get it new at Walmart for not too much more–you’re getting ripped off. I have a new rule. If you could get it new, waaaaay nicer, for much much less at say…Macy’s–you’re getting ripped off.

Case in point: yesterday I saw a computer desk at a thrift store for sale. It was so old, rickety, and bad-looking that I couldn’t even find a similar picture on google. Probably because if you had something that awful in your house, you would promptly take it to the dump and not waste the time to take a picture of it. Alternately, you might first peel off the fake wood sticker-stuff on top of the aging particle board because then it would just fall apart and you could put the pieces in your garbage. Anyway, guess how much it was?


Oh, I only wish.

$25.00? ridiculous, but I still wish..

$250.00? What? Yeah, no that’s two hundred and fifty dollars. It’s still there if you want it.

I’m trying to picture a scenario where someone makes a price like that. I have it–Tommy and Ronald are sitting in the back room. They’ve spent the better part of the morning working on their respective cups of black coffee, a cheese danish each, the pros and cons of steam-powered engines, and of course–pricing the donations. Tommy clears some old magazines off a desk in the back.

“Now Ron, what sort of a desk do you suppose this is?”

Ron shrugs, “I guess it looks real similar to the computer desk I helped Myrtle set up the other day.”

“How much do you think it’s worth?” asks Tommy, as he gives the computer desk an appraising eye.

“Well, I know my brother just bought one for $350 from Freddys. ”

“Better mark it down then–$250?

“$250 sounds like a bargain! Say, you want another danish?”


101 reasons to spank

When I was younger, we would think up creative alternatives to the word “spanking” to see if we could get our younger siblings to beg for a spanking.

“Hey Angel, Mom has some yummy Paddlings, go ask her for some.”

It was never not funny.


Today I saved the Easter Bunny…or maybe one of his cousin’s

With eyes wide and tongue lolling, the tightly bound muscles of the yellow Labrador propelled him on. Every nerve was quivering with anticipation and his adrenaline was pumping as he steadily gained on his prey. Why? Because he was a dog, and that was a rabbit. If you had been able to stop him and ask him right then, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have gotten a better answer. Rabbits are tricky to chase, but Mr. Yellow Lab was fast. As the rabbit bounded up the embankment, the Lab leapt after him. Two giant strides later and he was–oh wait, this is where I hit him with my car. At 40 miles an hour.

I had seen the rabbit coming and just managed to miss him when out of the corner of my eye I saw the Lab leap in front of my car. The next thing I knew, I hit him right in the center of the grill–hard. The only thing I remember was looking in the rearview mirror and seeing him standing on the opposite side of the road looking after me with an expression on his face that seemed to say, “What was that for?” Then, he continued on in his pursuit of the rabbit.

Can dogs have nine lives too?


As if i don’t have enough going on…

Well, I got a job. Yes, it’s a stay-at-home-ish job, and no, I will probably not be making 5k a week. I’ve been looking (mostly on craigslist) because as the old saying goes, If you want to get something done, ask a busy person. Meaning, when I’m lazy, I’m reallly lazy, and I like the motivation that a job gives. Plus, I like money. And ice cream…but that’s not necessarily related. Although, has anyone else noticed how ice cream tubs have gotten smaller and the prices have gone up? Not cool.

Anyway, I’m a legal document secretary for Welco Legal Documents. Welco is a new competitor to websites like LegalZoom.com or USLegalForms.com, but with a twist; instead of buying the form online and filling it out yourself, you meet with a legal document secretary and select the forms you need while we walk you through them and send them off to the processing center. The best part is that this service is still less expensive than going with a competitor. AJ and I actually just filled out a will from USLegalForms.com, and the frustrating part was wondering “Is this thing even real?” when we were done. Of course it was, but its always nice to have someone else reassure you. The best (and really the only part that mattered to me) is knowing that Violet’s future isn’t in the hands of some probate court if something should happen to us.

Are you still reading? Thanks. Shameless plug, I know. I have no excuse though, because I think this is an awesome company and I think everyone needs a will anyway. Ok, I’m done.


fat makes the world go round

Last prenancy I craved fresh fruit.

This pregnancy I crave baked goods. Specifically, the bad ones. Case in point; I made doughnuts for breakfast. These ones. Just click on the link so you can look at the pictures. Warning: looking at these pictures is so fattening, they deserve a tier on the food pyramid.


I scream, you scream

Today Violet made eyes at a boy. A coquettish smile on a little girl to the ice cream scooper boy at Coldstone creamery is the cutest thing ever. We were in line getting half and half dark chocolate peppermint/cake batter with oreos mixed in (which tasted just like you would imagine grasshopper cake to taste), and AJ was holding Violet up so she could watch the mixing process. While she watched the ice cream boy chop in the oreos, AJ said. “Isn’t that nice? He’s making that just for you!” It was love at first bite.

Here she is. Supremely content. Chocolate lips. Big smile.

In other news, I now see how easy it is to be misinformed as a child.

Quote of the day: “Sorry Violet, the moon popped.”

Yes, when he couldn’t find it in the sky tonight, AJ told her the moon had popped.

Last but not least; it’s Italian month! The first new recipe I tried was Pasta Carbonara, which I’ve been wanting to try forever but needed an excuse to make it because its not healthy and probably not very authentic Italian, but it was nothing less than the marriage of American comfort food, the dreams of an Italian tourist, and bacon and eggs. Please at least go here and look at the pictures.


That Darn Cat

Yes, she’s back. By “she” I most certainly do mean Lola, and by “back” I mean that she waltzed in the door for food after being gone for two weeks without so much as a “Hey, Stranger!”

But maybe I should explain. If you’ve been following the saga of Lola, you already know that we got her and her brother as Christmas presents for Violet. It was love at first sight for Violet, since she’s never had anyone to boss around. Charlie and Lola are outdoor kitties with indoor privileges and they cry on the porch until we let them in for food, petting, and various forms of abuse from Violet. You also already know that she peed in my closet–on my new boots. What you don’t know is that she probably peed out of spite.

It’s like this; Violet and I were sitting on the couch reading a book, and Lola was sitting on a chair eying  the remainders of breakfast on the table. I knew if I didn’t stop her that she’d be up there finishing off the oatmeal and getting cat germs every where, so I did what every sane person does and proceeded to throw any toys within my reach at her. Once she realized the toys were indeed sent with menace in mind and not some form of magical offering, she gave me one malevolent glare and ran off. I guess the kicker was me saying “Here Kitty, Kitty!” and chucking a doll at her head when she finally looked my way. I didn’t think anything of it till a couple minutes later when I happened to hear Violet shrieking at the cats (again) and upon investigation found Lola in the process of peeing directly on my suede boots. I then proceeded to gently pick her up and gently place her outside–again, gently. Then, I didn’t let her come in for three days. Relax PETA, this is a neighborhood where everyone else seems to think you feed your cat on the back porch, so I knew there was food to be had. Plus, I didn’t care. Anyway, she stopped coming for a total of two weeks and I thought this whole hairy mess was behind us until–she came back.

I’m not going down without a fight though–I just posted a craigslist ad for her. Is that wrong?

Isn’t she cute? My mom always said “Pretty is as pretty does”


I just did a vanity search

That’s right. I went to Google, and typed in my own name. I do that every so often to make sure and certain there’s nothing weird about me floating around on the internet. You’ll be happy to know–there isn’t. In fact, I didn’t find anything at all–sometimes it’s nice to know that in spite of all my fame, I can still enjoy a little bit of anonymity. Yes, that was tongue-in-cheek.

Anyway, Violet is getting molars in. If you’ve ever had a child get molars in, then you probably understand the weight of that last sentence. When you really stop to think about it, much of life is very barbaric. Apparently Violet has been thinking along these same lines all day. Oh yeah, and speaking of “barbaric”, can I add Childbirth to that list? Am I allowed to do that? Will someone please tell me how this is 2010 and we’re still having babies much the same way we always have? It’s completely barbaric! (Isn’t that a great word?)

Last but not least, I spent the majority of the day begging, pleading, cajoling, and generally making rash promises to the little one inside of me to unlock his knees and stop crushing my internal organs. This child is freaking strong. Today, I have 9 (but begging for 7) weeks to go. May 5th, we’re coming.