Pumpkin Pancakes

A few years back I was introduced to this recipe by a friend.
I didn't know if I would like it. Plain pancakes with nothing but plenty of melted butter had always been my true breakfast love. I'm an adult, however, not the picky eater of my childhood and I've learned to give new things a chance...sometimes.
I tried the pumpkin pancakes and it was worth it, they are good.
That first morning eating pumpkin pancakes, three year old Zizza and eight month old Enzo polished off four apiece. If I hadn't been hooked before, that would have done it.
Now a days I make them just about every time we have breakfast for dinner. The pumpkin in there counts as a vegetable see, and that makes me feel better about things nutritionally.
I also like to use whole wheat flour in this recipe. It gives the pancakes a nice texture.
True the picky child inside of me, my favorite way to eat them is with nothing but plenty of melted butter.
Syrup or cinnamon sugar are fine too but butter alone is just so good I don't need to bother with anything else.
By the way, thanks Stacey

Dinner

I made braised short ribs for dinner tonight.
Actually the Mr and I tag teamed it on the ribs last night, then after church today I just moved the whole pan from the fridge to the oven to reheat.
They were good folks, really good.
The best part was, I think, the juices. So delish. And good news! There's a whole bunch left over! The plan is to re-purpose it into soup later in the week. I'll let you know how that goes. There are a few ideas floating around in my head. Possibilities that include things like barley and mashed potato dumplings. I'll let you know what I decide.

Drat!

I missed another day. That makes three. I don't think I can claim any kind of victory over NaBloPoMo this year. I'll still pull through with 30 posts in 30 days but I can't in good conscience call it a win after missing 3.
Next year I'll know better than to start an intriguing series of books during the month. That's why I missed last night. I forgot to post before I started reading. I'm going to finish the last book tonight, I'm so close. Once it's done I'll get my focus back.
I'm going to be doing some sewing this coming week. It seems like ages since I made anything.
I've got a baby dress to get ready for next Sunday.
Silk chiffon, mmm I love that stuff.

I went to the Chinese bakery
To get a loaf of bread
She asked me what my was
and this is what I said

My name is El-eye El-eye
Chickel-eye Chickel-ey
Pom-pom beauty
Walla Walla whiskey
Indian Cheif,
How

Five years I've been waiting to teach this gem of a clapping game to my child. Time after time I fail.
Admittedly, my first attempt (I think she was two) was a little early.
She's five now. That's old enough for kindergarten, old enough for recess. She should be ready.
It's time to launch initiative "Teach Zizza to Play School-Yard Clapping Games"
I think I'll start in with something a little simpler than the above. "Peas Porridge" would be a good one. Also example videos might be a beneficial tool. This one comes to mind. Sorry, embedding is disabled so you'll have to go to the link.
I'll let you know the initiative proceeds.

Thanks be the giving

Mercifull Heavens I am full!
I made a sweet potato pie this year. This is the first time I've had that partucular pie and I tell you, it was delicious.  That is why I ate 2 pieces and that is why I feel rather plumpish and sickish right now.
I hope your pie eating was equally satisfying.

Imagine

Imagine you've spent your afternoon baking.
There's a pie in the oven and two dozen perfectly shaped butter-horn sweet potato rolls on the counter puffing themselves up in anticipation as they await their turn in the oven.
Your younger children are at the table sharing a snack and you step upstairs to check on the progress of the room cleaning assigned to your older child.
The sound of laughter mingles with the smell of baking peach pie and they waft up the stairs together. You smile to yourself, happy that the two so enjoy one another's company.
The timer sounds and you decend to retrieve the golden beauty from the oven.
As the room comes into view you notice something odd. There's some kind of light peach-ish goo hanging from the boy's extended finger as he swings it around.
Realization hits and you exclaim using the boy's full name and rushing to snatch the mutilated dough lump from his hands. You're only just in time to stop him feeding a sizable glob to his baby sister.
Three would-be rolls are missing from the pan with a fourth smeared hopelessly out of shape.
As you might imagine, the boy does not finish his dinner.

My curse

Yesterday I worked very hard at managing my time. I find books to be rather addicting. I have a hard time putting down even the most mediocre of books once I've started reading.
The Books I'm currently working on are the Mistborn books by Brandon Sanderson. They are a favorite of The Mr's and the time finally came for me to read them.
I was raised on fantasy, so this series is right up my alley. Plus, these books are well above mediocre so the time management part of reading them has been an extra challenge.
I made a deal with myself. Every time I completed a household task, I would read a chapter (or two, I'm an addict remember?) This worked well all day. I did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, then I read. I folded a few batches of clean laundry, then I read. I folded some more laundry, then I read some more.
When evening came, I cleaned up dinner, tucked the kids in bed, got my blog on and was ready for more reading.
After a while The Mr. finished what he was doing and went in to bed. I planned to follow but soon I noticed the bedroom light go off. If he was sleeping anyway, I might as well read a little more.
I read for another hour or two and something strange happened. The Mr's alarm went off. I wondered to myself why his alarm was set for the middle of the night. Then I looked at the clock. It wasn't the middle of the night. It was morning.
I didn't go to bed until he was up and dressed. I finished the book though.
Lucky for me he is a early riser so there were still a few hours for me to sleep before the kids got up.
Zizza had to eat a granola bar on the way to pre-school. There was no time for breakfast.
I've got to learn to control myself.

You'll never guess what I just sang to Enzo as a lullaby

I regularly take requests during our bed-time snuggle. Tonight he wanted a "Library Song"
The only thing that came to mind was "Reading Rainbow" so I sang it with all the vigor that I remember from those days in elementary school when as a special treat the teachers would herd a few classrooms worth of children into the ELR (do any of my elementary school comrades happen tot know what that stands for?) where we'd sit in rows "Indian style" (how's that for "P.C."?) and watch Lavar do his thing.
Inevitably as the opening sequence began one child after another would break out into song. I remember a boy named Ian who sang along with unmatched fervency. As the song progressed the strength of the impromptu chorus grew finally ending with most every child holding a strong forced vibrato on the last note of the final "rainbow."
I always viewed the practice with a combination of terror ( I was very shy) and scorn (Let's just say Ian put on quite a show) I did however quite enjoy singing the number in the comfort of my home, thus I was well prepared to sing it this evening.
Sadly, since it doesn't actually include the word "library" the song didn't satisfy the request and I had to sing one of those impromptu made-up numbers repeating the requested word until he'd had his fill. It just goes to show, in the world of lullaby's there's no accounting for tastes.

hmmmm

I'm in the middle of a book, well a trilogy actually. I started the second book this afternoon.
I'm enjoying it so much that all of my spare brain power is being sucked into thinking about it.
Ok, that's not entirely true. I'm also thinking about "Defying Gravity" ever since it was on Glee (love that show) a few weeks ago it's been circling around my head. I was just you tube karaoke-ing it in fact. That's the kind of nerd I am.
"Endless Love" was on last week's episode of Glee and that's tugging at a little piece of brain power too.
If you'll excuse me I'm going to see if there's an "Endless Love" karaoke video available on You Tube. Once that's done I'll get back to my book.

Jingle Bells Batman Smells

I just tried to explain to my five year old why that song is funny.
It was a difficult task and I'm afraid I failed.
When you don't know who Batman is, let alone Robin or the Joker it's hard to get the joke.
You know what she does think is funny?
Last time it was my turn to drive carpool to preschool she heard her brother mention the word "breakfast" as she and her friends were discussing which of them knew better how to sing"Twinkle Twinkle."
Zizza laughed heartily and said to her friends "My little brother just sang 'Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you want for breakfast!"
Her companions thought it was just as hilarious as she did and the rest of the week's journeys were peppered with requests from the three girls for Enz to sing the hilarious number. Enzo was only to happy to oblige. Attention from your big sister and her friends is a priceless commodity.
Soon the song was simplified to "Twinkle twinkle little breakfast" following which the three little girls in the back seat would disintegrate into laughter until one of them recovered herself enough to ask him to sing it again.
Now that's a joke.

Get me some purple leather, STAT!

I currently have a brown purse. I don't know what's become of me.
When I was purse shopping last I found a fantastic dark purple one. At the time I was only minorly impressed, but the idea has grown on me.
Couple that with my increasing disappointment with the purse I bought that day and you have a girl in need of a big purple purse
My brown one is attractive and all, but brown is just so "gihhhh" When I bought it I told myself that having a neutral bag would be ok because my clothes would be enough to convey my love of the bright side (incidentally, the t-shirt I'm wearing now is inscribed with the words "the bright side") but I have changed my mind. I am not projecting my true self when I carry a brown purse.
Another problem with my current bag is it's lack of space. I had been sans children for a day and a half when I bought it and that clouded my judgment. I keep showing up places with not a spare diaper or wipe to my name because I removed my diaper wallet to save space on a quick trip and never put it back.
Long story short, I just decided I want a bag like this out of royal purple leather. That would be dreamy.
I supposed if I compromised and made it out of royal purple not-leather I'd have a much larger chance of ever actually making it.
In any case, I need a new bag. One that's screaming with vibrant color and roomy enough for the diapers.

The New One's Shoes

Would you just look at how adorable these little shoes are?

The New One doesn't like the feel of her feet on the floor, in so much that she will not let them touch down if they are bare. This meant that we needed shoes. Shoes with a soft sole. Shoes that she could wear every day.
I started looking around Etsy because I wanted something that would make me as happy, or at least close to as happy, as cute little bare baby toes do when I see them. Nothing I was finding in stores was fitting the bill. I knew I'd have to really love whatever I bought because without that love I might forget to put them on her and if I never put them on, and she never put her feet on the floor, how would she ever learn to walk?
I chose the elephant shoes from scandeez because of everything I looked at they were the best combination of functional and attractive. Also because gray is currently my favorite neutral and as part of the "wear them everyday" thing neutral was necessary.

Almost got me

I've just realized I didn't post yesterday.
With two years of NaBloPoMo under my belt I seem to have gotten cocky and let things slide.
Now NaBloPoMo is smirking as only a rebounding foe can smirk and yelling things like "How do you like me now?" and "Thought you'd kicked my hinder eh? Turns out, my hinder isn't that easy to kick! This was my plan all along and not I've GOT YOU!"
Obviously I can't stand around and take that kind of abuse. I've got to get back on that horse and show NaBloPoMo who's boss.
I'm posting now, and I'll be posting later. Oh yes I will. I'm not about to let some month long blogging challenge get the better of me!

This morning I was taught by a 22 year old man who walked on his toes like my little brother how to avoid having my mouth vomited in while administering rescue breaths to an unconscious individual.
I learned other things as well, like how to give yourself the Heimlich in your car if you happen to choke while driving. (Pull over, roll down your window, position yourself so your upper body is hanging out of the car through the window as you kneel on your seat. Fall against the windowsill like you would a chair back were you Heimleching yourself in the comfort of your home) Also, the toe-walking instructor has a friend who has had to do this not once, but twice.
Dude, stop eating jaw-breakers in stop and go traffic.
Currently residing in my wallet is a CPR card with my name on it. My new skill set makes me a much better foster care provider. Of this you can be sure.

Boot Shopping

I went to Dillard's today to do a little boot reconnaissance.
If you recall, I was referred there by a reliable source.
We were at the mall as a family and The New One and I stole away from the rest while The Mr. kept them corralled in the children's section at Barnes and Noble.
I entered Dillard's on the second floor. Since the shoes are on the first floor and I was pushing a stroller my first order of business was to locate the elevator.
I found it without trouble, boarded and pressed the button for the first floor.
When the door opened again I got out , maneuvered around the stroller of the mother waiting to get in, and went in search of shoes.
The first thing I noticed when I got out of the elevator alcove was that the same old lady who was working in the department upstairs seemed to be downstairs as well.
"Maybe there's an employees only elevator back in the corner right here," I thought. Then I laughed at my own silliness and decided that Dillard's and old ladies must just get along thus, the matching employees upstairs and down.
I couldn't find the shoes, though I did notice an alluring sweater dress, so I asked an associate for assistance and was directed down stairs. I was surprised at first but then I remembered that the Dillard's in Fashion Place mall back in Utah has a basement, so why not this one? The hole in this hypothesis was my memory of the 2 floor options on the elevator key pad.
When I was once again passenger in the elevator I found my memory to be accurate. There were indeed only 2 floors available for my shopping pleasure.
So the first time I was in the elevator I either pressed the 2 by mistake and then stood there, not moving until someone outside pressed the button and the door opened, or I pressed the right button, the elevator went down and then forgot to open up and let me off before going back up to fetch it's next passenger.
I suppose I'll never know what actually happened in the elevator today. It will remain one of the mysteries of my life.

My second elevator attempt was successful. At long last I gained my destination and was well rewarded.
I've been looking around for a pair of gray boots. Something casual and comfy that I'll be able to wear most every day all winter long. This pair have been on my Wist in yonder side bar for months now.
They are what I asked after in the store today. I couldn't remember who made them though, so the sales associate and I wandered through the department each with our eye out and you'll never guess what I found.
You remember Missy's boots right? I just linked to them up there at the beginning of the post. Remember now?
Ok, here's the picture.

After seeing them that night I hopefully looked them up on Dillard's website with my fingers crossed for gray and was disappointed. The only colors listed were tobacco (as above) and black.
Imagine my surprise when I walk straight into a gray pair proudly on display in the store!
I know!
And you'll never guess what comes next. I'm looking around while the kind associate goes to get my size and on the table just beyond is the Dolce Vita boot.
And it's on sale.!
$20.00 less that I've seen it anywhere else.
You probably think I'm sitting here in a band new pair fabulous gray boots and you're just waiting to find out whether they've got wedge heels or not.
I'm not wearing new boots though.
The BCBG's zipped over my husky calves but only just, and the boot I buy will need room to accommodate a tucked in pant leg. Plus, as beautiful and comfy as the heel was, I'm less likely to wear something with a heel in the midst of my regular mommy life and I'm in the market for an all the time sort of a thing here.
The Dolce Vita's were roomy enough, but a flat dissapoints after a nice heel. It's an unavoidable truth. Also, the boots in the store were "sand" rather than "grigio." They were, for all intents and purposes, gray excepting the tan buckle straps which were a total downer.
Long story short, I couldn't commit, but I'll be dreaming of the BCBG boots tonight. If they'd been the pair on sale you can bet I would have forgotten my objections to their practicality and plunked down my money.
I guess I'm glad for that. There's not much worse than buying a boot you adore and not being able to wear it the way you want to for this or that reason.
THE END

Nesting Cubes- More Specific

This is a post I wrote for my guest blogging stint last week at Presser foot. I thought you all might want to actually know something about those nesting cubes. So I'm re-posting it here.

I've finally finished the grand plan I had for my cube pouch, and here it is;
A set of five nesting cubes with various closures for little ones to play and practice with.

The littlest guy ended up being sort of oblong, but I'm just going to pretend I meant it to be that way.

He fits inside this two inch fella

Who fits in this three inch lace up job

Who buttons into this four incher

Who's all snuggled up in the five.

To make your own set of nesting cubes, use the following measurements and apply them to the instructions given in this tutorial by Indie House.
5" cube- 11"x10.5" corner seams will be 5" long and 2.5" from the point.

4" cube- 9'x8.5" Corners seams will be 4" and 2" from the point

3" cube- 7"x6.5" Corner seams will be 3" and 1.5" from the point

2" cube- 5"x4.5" corner seams will be 2" and 1" from the point

1" cube- 2.5"x2.5" corner seams will be 1" long and 1/2" from the point.
I cut my 1" cube 3"x 2.5" and I didn't seem to need the extra half inch when things got that small. I haven't tested the 2.5"x2.5" measurement but I think it will work. I also didn't put inner lining in my 1" cube. That probably affected the measurement of my finished project as well.

The longer side of your fabric is the side you want to put your closures on. So, on my 5" cube I sewed my zipper along the 11" side of my fabric rectangles.
If you're using buttons, snaps or anything that needs to over lap rather than meet flush, add and extra half inch to shorter measurement, bringing things back to square. That will give you an inch of overlap in the center to accommodate closures.

Thank goodness

The kids are finally in bed.
For a while there I honestly didn't think I was going to make it through.
Sundays without church are a major bummer.
It didn't help that while the kids were sick enough that I couldn't take them to church, they weren't sick enough to be sweet and cuddly.
They were plenty sick to be irritable, but well enough not to be sleepy.
When The Mr. got home from Church I was sitting on the top stair concentrating my entire attention on making sure no one opened their bedroom doors.
Oh Sunday, you're usually a favorite of mine but this week I'm afraid you were a horror!

Advice requested.

So, We bought this dining set. I've had my eye out for something this shape for ages and finally found something on Craig's list Hurrah!

The only trouble is this shell motif that's carved in the legs. I'd really rather have smooth legs (that's why I shave every day)

It seems to me that with a combination of wood putty and sanding, I could make the shell design disappear. But I don't know anything about refinishing furniture, or wood working, or anything of the sort. I'm planning to paint the whole thing so the bare wood won't need to look pretty.

Tell me friends. Is my goal attainable?
Will elbow grease and the advice of more experienced friends leave me with a smooth legged table, or should I learn to live with the shells?

Also, what kind of paint and brushes should I use? And how do I avoid paint drips? And what else do you think I should know?
All advice will be appreciated, thank you.

Cubed and Wilted

Zizza was up in the night.
Not crazy, just feverish, 100.2. Children's Motrin was dosed and she went back to sleep.

Morning came and brought German pancakes for breakfast. She ate her's up and I changed my plans. Instead of a trip to the Doctor's office I would finish the set of nesting cubes I've been working on this week.

By the time the cubes were done, so was the Motrin. She drooped and withered all the while making excuses to exclude illness.
"I'm just tired because I watched like six Bob (the Builder)'s with Pop last night." (note: They only watched one)
"I'm just not very hungry because I ate so many bread sticks last night. Also, we had a big snack at preschool yesterday" (note: She had 2 bread sticks at dinner and nothing else)

"I think I'm just ready for my quiet time," she told me.
Now, I've fed the other two kids and I've come to offer the snuggle that was all she wanted for lunch.
She's hot to my touch.
"But not as hot as when I was sleeping," she says
Actually, she's hotter 101.

A second dose of Motrin and a nap later she's only slightly under the weather. She even perked up enough to eat some rice.
That dose should wear off around 2 a.m. Here's hoping the fever stays away once that happens.

It's greener

From the browning thatch of nearly dormant bermuda spring the bright and slender blades that will make up our winter lawn.
We've never remembered to seed for winter grass before. We're apparently getting the hang of living in this climate.

I am a genius

I cooked last night. It seems like it's been ages since I actually cooked rather than just fixing dinner.
I was cookin' up some sweet potatoes for my Zizza. She's been asking for them. I was trying to keep it super simple, because that's how she likes it, but still interesting enough for The Mr. and me.
So I peeled them, tossed them with olive oil, plenty of kosher salt and black pepper and a few crushed garlic cloves. Then I put a glob of butter on each slice because butter=guud.
I covered the pan with foil and popped it on the grill on low heat. I used the grill because it was already hot whereas the oven was not.
I left them on for about 15 minutes and when I checked I saw the char on the bottom and thought all was lost. I turned off the heat under the pan so they were just getting indirect heat from the rest of the grill to cook them through.
Fifteen minutes later they were fork tender so I pulled them off and took them inside. I'd been planning to cut off the charred bottoms and pretend nothing had ever happened, but when I turned one over and looked at it, I saw that is wasn't actually charred. So I tried it.
Genius.
Seriously, so delicious. Caramelized to perfection.
Maybe it doesn't count as my own genius since I didn't plan it to go that way but I'm going to claim it just the same.
You can't stop me.

An experiment

The Sugar Witch came last week and carried off what was left of the Halloween candy, but somehow I still have chocolate in my pantry...interesting.
Any way there were these 3 Musketeers sitting around. I'm not a big fan of the 3 Musketeers but they are chocolate and as such can't be thrown unceremoniously into the trash with the lollipops and laffy taffys.
I had to do something with them and an idea suggested itself.

They weren't the best thing I've ever dipped in peanut butter but they were vastly improved.

In other news; I'm guest posting at Presser Foot this week. Pop over and say "hallo"

We wait

There are times as a parent when, as you look at your child, a surge of love bubbles up from your heart and engulfs you.
Maybe the child is expertly executing a new skill, something you taught them, or something they've figured out on their own. You're reminded of how amazing that child is and the the wave comes.
Maybe they're smiling in that way that's all their own or pouting in a manner just as quintessentially theirs. As you witness your child's self-isms you are grateful to be one of those privileged to know this fantastic person well enough to recognize them. And you're washed away.



I see my baby moving through the world, experiencing those things we have to offer her and as the waves come I remember that she is not mine and I choke.

What will I do with all of this knowledge I have gleaned when it's subject is gone?
I type it all out to share with the new mama. There are two reasons for this.
The first is noble. It would be a shame to let all of this useful information go to waste. I want my baby to be happy and teaching her new mama about the life she has here will help the transition to be as smooth as possible.
The second is spiteful. I want that other mama to know that I know this baby. I want her to feel just how much I love her and I want her to hurt just as much as I hurt. I want her to cry over the time she is missing the way I cry over the time I will miss.

I don't want her to overlook any of the cute things the baby does, touching fingers, patting the cabinet door when you ask her to close it and she complies, reaching her arms around her baby head to play "How big is baby?"
I also don't want her taking credit for any of it.
I taught the baby those things. I DID!
Not her.

I hope they come for her soon. This half parenting is crushing me.

Photonic Sneeze Reflex

Do you sneeze when you step into the sun?
Enz does.

So do Zizza and The Mr.
They generally each sneeze twice after the those first rays of sunlight touch them.

We had an optometrist friend who shed light on the quirk.
He walked out of church at the same time we did one Sunday afternoon. When The Mr. had done sneezing the friend asked "Do you often sneeze right as you step outside?" When The Mr answered the affirmative our friend told him that tendency is called Photonic Sneeze Reflex, and was something he'd been studying. It also seems to be hereditary.
What quirks did you inherit and/or pass on?

We found him

We found the slowest cashier in the world. He works at a local Wal*Mart.
After completing our shopping we hopped in line. There was only one party ahead of us and they were already in the middle of their transaction when we arrived on the scene so we thought it would be quick.
Soon we realized it was anything but.
As we waited there, batting little hands away from the candy display we assumed that the people ahead of us were causing the hold up. Maybe the woman was a couponer and new at it. Maybe they picked up the one pack of socks with the bar code smeared off and some one had to be called from the hosiery dept. to provide the missing information. Maybe they were dividing their bill between 3 different cards, the change in the bottom of their collective purses and a personal check.
Finally it was our turn. We stepped into position at the register and learned that our judgments had been false. The patrons who preceded us were in no way responsible for the hold up. They were in fact, victims of the snails pace themselves.
The tortoise at the register was a polite teenaged fellow. Tall and lank with shaggy hair and combination skin. He was as adorable (in a teenager sort of way) as he was slow.
He picked up one item at a time, scanning each with no sense of hurry and placing them sloth-like into bags...lots of bags.
I just finished unloading. There was one bag that held 8 cups of yogurt, a can of bamboo sprouts and two cans of coconut milk. That, I think was an appropriate load. The shampoo and dish soap, on the other hand each occupied their own bag and I'm afraid the rest of our order was packed in a similar manner.
The Mr and I exchanged bemused glances throughout the transaction. It really was amazing to see. I didn't know the process of checking out at Wal*Mart could be so slow.

You know what I nearly forgot about?

Halloween.
I'll tell you about it real quick before I forget for good.
I made eyeballs a la Family fun magazine. It was my best candy dipping experience to date. I quite enjoyed these.

For months Enzo and I talked about his costume. he wanted to be Cookie Monster. He had his tag line of "mmmmm cookies" down pat and I had grand plans of ping pong ball goggly eyes and the like.
Then a few things happened to impede our plans.
First, I couldn't find any blue fur. I was thinking about dyeing it myself when Cookie monster costume impediment number two came along.
Enzo decided he'd rather be Bob the builder.
And so he was. I whipped up a quick (and I do mean quick) plaid shirt and he wore the one pair of overalls in the house. They are sized twelve months, hence the shortness and tightness.
We borrowed the hard hat and tool belt from some cousins who went through a Grandparent fed Bob phase a few years back.
If you don't count the hour or so it took to run to Good Will last minute on an ill fated search for larger overalls this costume was made in under an hour. Not too bad considering how pleased Enz was with the results.

Zizza decided that after talking about the possibility for three years, she'd be Lizzie the elephant. I added a skirt, a bandanna and some jewelry to the elephant I made last year, and she was all set.
There's a problem with costumes that are too bulky to wear in transit. That problem is photographs.
I didn't ever get her all suited up for a picture while we were at home. She looked adorable at her preschool party, but I dressed her once we got there and left her to enjoy the event without taking any photos.
Then came the big trunk or treat at the church. We left the head stabilization mechanism (a stocking cap with a piece if duct tape on top to stick it to the inside of the head) at home so she had to hold onto it to keep it from slipping she was also rather preoccupied with her friends. This is the best photo of Zizza as Lizzie the elephant we managed to get.

This little one wore the gypsy costume I made for Zizza when she was that size. I'd planned on making a curly maned lion costume for her but since I was uncertain about whether or not she'd be here to wear it I decided just to recycle the gypsy. I didn't want to be left babyless and crying into a hood of golden grosgrain ringlets.
She makes a cute gypsy though, don't you think?

On Halloween night the Mr and I had a church meeting to attend. We took The New One along with us while Zizza and Enzo trick or treated with their cousins.
After wrestling with the elephant head the night before, Zizza decided she'd take it easy and wear the Minnie Mouse dress I made for her to wear to Disneyland on her birthday and haven't blogged about yet. I think that was the best decision she could have made. The elephant is super cool, but it's also cumbersome.

Another thing I didn't get a picture of was myself in my rag doll costume. I do however, have a photo of the completed wig. Here you go.

Thus ends Halloween 2009.

Tonight,

I met Ree Drummond, The real, actual Pioneer Woman I will share with you a few high lights of our interview.
First we see that as I approach the photo-op position, my mouth is open nearly wide enough to turn my head inside out.
Mean while, it seems Ree is checking her text messages. I saw this photo and hoped there was a corresponding tweet. If there had been a twitter update within an hours window of the time I was there beside her, I would have printed it out, put it in a twin frame with this photo and claimed to have witnessed it's creation.

Now, I think this is when she saw the baby, (Megan's) and said "What are you doin' to me?" She likes babies, remember?

So we admired the baby a little more, and I told her how I almost brought her a baby gift just in case she decided to go for it and give Marlboro Man a chance at a boy named "Bull"

And then this happened.

Apparently Ree was telling a hilarious joke and I was unable to contain my mirthful response.
Either that or I was trying to take a bite out of the baby with my shiny new, enormous (seriously, those things look huge) teeth.

Also there were these beautiful things. They belong to Missy. Ree once described her as a glamourpuss. If that's what she is, I want to be one too.

Don't worry, I found out where they came from. Missy volunteered the information before I had to be so tacky as to ask.
Dillards can be expecting a visit from yours truly one of these first days.
Ree was wearing those heels she had to hike home from church in when she was in New York last summer. You know, the black ones with the wedge heel? I noticed as I was walking away. If only I'd been able to ask where to find a pair of those.
To sum up; Photographic evidence suggests that I may not be physically capable of closing my mouth. I may or may not devour babies, and I love me a wedge heel.
Good Night.

Happy Bitrhday, yesterday, to my Mama

In my family, we sing 4 verses of Happy Birthday.
We start out with the traditional "Happy Birthday to you." Then we move on to "How old are you" (sung to the same tune) followed by "You're (however many) years old," and we finish up with "We all love you."
Throughout the whole people are piking out lines of harmony and singing them just for the thrill of it. Because we can.
You know that feeling when you're singing (or playing) in a group, the music surges around you and your own voice rings one with the rest? How full and happy a feeling that is!
That's what birthday cake was like when I was a kid.
It's been a long time though, since I sang it that way.
When Zizza crawled into bed with us the morning of her Birthday we sang her all four verses. With just the Mr, Enzo and me singing though, we stuck with the melody.
I'm waiting for the day when my own little family chorus grows big enough and full enough to feel like home.
Of all the things we're out side of living so far from family, it's the music I miss the most. Even when it's just "Happy Birthday"

At long last

A promise fulfilled.
Here are some favorites from our recent family photo shoot.

I am (apparently) the luckiest

Remember when I entered this giveaway? I never expected to actually win it. That's why, in my entry post I mentioned making it myself.
Turns out I didn't have to go to the trouble.

Because I won.

And little miss sassy pants (skirt) here didn't have to be cajoled into wearing it either! I actually had to hold her off until I was ready to take her picture in it.

Thanks, Kathleen We love it!

p.s. When your knee socks stop three to four inches below your actual knees it may be time to invest in some new ones. Wouldn't you say?

Dropped it

The NaBloPoMo ball that is. And on the first throw too.
I'm not gonna lie, it stings a little.
In my defense, yesterday was a busy day. I baked a birthday cake that was slightly recognizable as Minnie Mouse and a vast number of cheese pinwheels for Zizza's birthday dinner, and, and. The Mr. attempted to convert my lappy here into a hackintosh. It didn't work, so I'm running ubuntu again, safe and sound but I had only limited access to my computer yesterday.
So, you see? I really couldn't post. Outside influences (i.e. my husband and my baking habit) converged and prevented me, by force, from posting on the first day of November. It really couldn't be helped. (that's what I'm telling myself anyway)
Just to prove my story, here's a picture of the Minnie Mouse cake.

Ok, actually it seems that I forgot to take picture of the cake. Here's a messy action shot though. You can kind of see it there on the table, See, the bow was purple (or blueish) instead of red with white polka dots.

And here's what the cake looks like now.

Delish.