Squished Witches

My second grade teacher had a special recipe she cooked up with her class every October. I particularly loved class that day, being as I was a fledgling baker.
I took the recipe home and made it a time or two before it got lost.
I remembered it this year, mourned again, and then thought "Say, why don't I search for the recipe on the internet?"
So I did.
I typed "squished witches" into google and the recipe popped right up as the first entry. We were reunited.
I assembled my ingredients to make them today.

Here's the recipe if you'd like it.


A Delicious Halloween Delight!
1/2 cup powdered spook (powdered sugar)
2 cups frog's eyes (chocolate chips)
1 cup ghost blood (Eagle brand condensed milk)
2 cups squished witch (peanut butter)
Put the powdered spook into a bowl and add the frog's eyes, ghost blood, and squished witch.
Stand on one foot and stir everything together. While stirring, you must repeat your name backwards.
Next, drop small spoonfulls of the creme onto waxed paper.
Chill the cremes for a short time.
Last, eat the cremes, and you will be safe from vampires forever


The only difference between the above recipe, found online, and the way Mrs Newman did things is that she didn't drop spoonfuls, she spread it in a pan and cut it into bars. Probably because it was quicker and easier to manage with 30 second graders.

Enjoy!

Citizens of Gotham City,

Have no fear, the caped crusader is among you, patrolling the city's playgrounds.

(Thing is though, he's only three and the mask sort of bugs him, so for the time being we're just going to have to use the honor system when it comes to keeping his identity under wraps. Thanks in advance for your help!)

The Joker'd better stay off this slide if he knows what's good for him!

That goes for you too, Penguin.

This guy's not going to rest until the likes of you are all crying for your mamas in the Gotham city slammer.

That's right, he's even skipping nap time.

Wonder Woman!

All the world is waiting for you

and the powers you posses

In your satin tights,

fighting for our rights,

and the old red white and blue-hooo!

Wonder Woman!

You're a wonder, Wonder Woman!

Liberation

The Mr. procured a lock pick set. After 3 long and harrowing days, the laundry room is once again open for business.

I also actually finished the Halloween costumes. Finished to my satisfaction even, and I only threw one minor fit, which wasn't actually even costume related. Enzo nearly clawed out my right eye you see. It was accidental, his hand was swinging with his stride as he came to get into his costume and my eye was in the way.

I was pretty crabby about it.

You know what's worse than an assault on your eye ball? An assault on your eye ball when you're wearing three different colors of eye liner and a generous helping of mascara. (It was festive ok?)

So, not only can I do laundry if I want, the kids wore pajamas to bed instead of underwear and I don't have to sew anything before I go to bed. I do have to go to a scout meeting tomorrow instead of sitting home reveling in my ability to wash towels, but I'm trying not to dwell on that.

By the way, when I get home from the afore mentioned meeting I'll be staging a Halloween photo shoot because... well, I sort of didn't take a single snap while they were dressed up today. whoops.

Locksmith?

You know what's cool? When your boy makes a point of locking every door in the house as his afternoon entertainment.
You know what makes that even cooler? Well, it could be really cool if you have a keyed lock installed on your laundry room. Also, maybe the key to the lock could be missing! Yeah, that would be great. Then maybe all but one pair of the boy's underwear could be in various stages of laundering and thus locked away safely with all of the household chemicals that the lock was installed to protect the children from. The one pair will of course be on his person and notably dirty such that after bath time when the underwear deficiency is discovered the notion of rewearing will be immediately dismissed.
Yeah, that'd be the coolest.

Ok, not really.

Really that scenario stinks.

I forced him into his pajamas commando last night. This morning he didn't come down for breakfast. I found him with a dismayed expression and a bare bum sitting in front of his dresser. The mere mention of the word "commando" was enough to elicit screams of protest.
So what did we do? Put the boy in his swimsuit and feed him breakfast while the mama got to work on a new pair of unders.

I had already taken a pattern from a pair of boxer briefs for use as part of his Halloween costume so luckily I didn't have to think anything through. that made it quicker. Also, since I started with an old tank top, the hemming was already done.
I had two like this, I used the one with less pink in it.

Here's what it looks like now.

And look, they work!

Meanwhile, at the other end of the ironing board, something that looks suspiciously like Halloween progress.

I guess I should get back to that.

Drat me and my resolutions!

A few months ago I gave up using canned cream soups as ingredients. I've always been a "from scratch " kind of girl anyway so it didn't seem like that big a deal...until today.

Today I want nothing more than creamed soup casserole of some kind. What I'm really after is "Carol Burger" an old standby of my moms. During years when I consumed no other red meat I would still take my fare share of Carol burger. I don't have any ground beef though so that's out of the running even before we consider the cream soup (that one takes cream of mushroom)

I've just gone through the cans in my pantry 3 times willing a "cream of something" can to appear but so far, nothing.

Must I give in and make a chicken cream sauce from scratch to fill my need? I fear I must.

2 minutes later, I've found a recipe! I'll let you know how it goes.

an announcement of sorts

Sleep, when you're pregnant is like the reset button on the Nintendo. Things start wigging out? Just go to sleep for a while even ten minutes can do the trick, though an hour is really preferable.

In my dream I woke up to find the Mr home from work, striding around the house accomplishing the half done tasks I'd left. I felt fine so I got up and started thinking about dinner. Orange chicken is what I was hankering for. Heading out to Panda seemed frivolous, but I remembered the cost-co frozen variety out in the freezer. "That's what we'll do then" dream me chirruped and started for the garage.

When I woke up for reals I was worried about getting the rice on. "Really?" I asked myself. "Orange chicken?"

Before I sought the refuge of my bed I had been at the kitchen sink vomiting in true ten-week fashion. As I cleaned up the mess I remembered previous pregnancies during which this type of stomach activity was part of my daily routine and marveled at memories of consuming things like Pizza and, well, orange chicken in the midst of those weeks. I couldn't imagine eating anything but yogurt ever again. I'd made it all this way with only 2 previous incidents, both of them mild, and I just didn't remember.

The difference between my dream self and my waking self turned out to be energy level rather than appetite. While dream self responsibly used what she had on hand, waking self didn't even put in the effort to prepare a frozen entrée, choosing instead to get her orange chicken piping hot from the good people at Panda. I enjoyed it every bit as much as I imagined I would in my dream.