Archive | November, 2008

Gold Stars: Thanksgiving Edition

27 Nov

Whine: No whine today. Gave my sommelier the day off.

Cheese: Sweet potatoes. Pie. Green bean casserole. Pie. Ham. Pie. Mashed potatoes. Pie. Turkey. Pie.

 

In honor of Thanksgivng, the gold stars today go to the things and people for which I am very thankful.

The gold stars today go to:

1. Clairol. For ten-dollar hair-highlighting kits. Because everyone thinks I’m a blonde. And an extra-special gold star to my sister-in-law, who punched 134 little holes in the cap and pulled my hair through each and every hole, all while two crabby babies gnawed at her ankles.

2. Toyota. For making a car that refuses to lock when the keys are in the ignition. Not that I would know anything about that.

3. My beloved family, friends, and readers. Without you there’d really be no point–to blogging or to living.  And aren’t they the same thing?

4. ABC. For bringing Scrubs back. I can’t hardly wait for January 6.

5. Campbell’s Soup. For inventing green bean casserole. Enough said.

6. Mr. Dad. For everything. For making chocolate milk for me when I could just as easily make it myself. For not being too mad when I wake him in the middle of the night because I can’t sleep. For giving me two little sweeties and loving them as much as I do.

7. Lil’ Sis. For giggles. For slobbery kisses. For “So Big!”

8. Big Sis. For being the wittiest person I know. For curiosity. For love. For teaching me how to pray.

9. Naps. For allowing me to deal with numbers 7 and 8 above.

10. God. For always giving me  his unfailing love–the only gold star I really need.

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!

UnWord Fun

20 Nov

Whine: I need an escape hatch. From my children.

Cheese: At least they give me good material to work with. They’re gonna hate me for this someday, aren’t they?

 

They say necessity is the mother of invention. In my case, it’s boredom. Which, I suppose if fueled by the necessity to amuse myself. Which, in turn, turns into blog posts about made up words.

Hence the debut of a new semi-regular post here at Whine and Cheese: UnWord Fun. This is where I occupy myself by making up words and trying to pass them off as real.

 

Our first ever unword:

 

food gloves [fud ghluvz]  -noun

A covering for the hand made entirely of food, thus enabling the wearer to eat directly off of the hands without the intrusion of utensils. Also handy if the wearer wishes to save food for a later time.

Related Words: food hat, food mask, food turtleneck/scarf, food shirt, food pants, food diaper*, food socks

 

Illustration:

Food Gloves  

*Food diapers are used primarily as store-it-and-eat-it-later devices, rather than as utensils for immediate eating.

 

P.S. If you share my need to verbosify, you may enjoy this site. (Go to V and look up vegeludes.) In fact, I am planning on submitting future unwords for publication there.

Kissin’ Cousins

18 Nov

Whine: The other day Big Sis looked me in the face and said, “Mom, what are those cracks around your eyes?”  Hrmph. And followed that with, “And what are those little bumps all over your face?” Double hrmph. I sent her straight to bed with no supper and went to get a facial.

Cheese: I got the “day off” yesterday so I could attend a conference. It’s been so long since I got dressed up (read: not sweatpants/t-shirt) and had a nice lunch (read: not covered in cheerios, not sharing my food wth someone else, not being spat upon) that I almost didn’t even notice the awesome speaker and workshops. (But truthfully, Priscilla Shirer spoke. I found her delightful and inspirational and hilarious–and all after having had a baby just four weeks ago!)

 

I grew up mostly on my own. With no sisters or brothers to call my own, I spent a lot of time playing with Barbies and going door to door in my apartment complex looking for friends, which in retrospect seems highy inadvisable. But then one day something amazing happened. I got sisters. Four of them. And I never looked back.

Years have passed, and between the five of us sisters we’ve had seven kids in seven years. All but one of which are girls. It’s really quite ridiculous, actually. Can you imagine Christmastime in our family? Fluffy piles of princess dresses and tangled up dollar store jewelry, accompanied by the click-clack click-clack of little plastic high heels (aka “fancy shoes). Lots of tea parties, playing mommy and dancing in their fancy clothes. Girls will be girls, won’t they?

But, oh, that one boy. He’s the oldest of the bunch. And for a kid up against odds like that, he navigates the waters very well and in the process has completely captured Big Sis’ heart.  As soon as she learned to talk, she learned to say his name. “Kee-gan.” So the other day Big Sis rediscovered her dolls. She asked me the doll’s name, and I told her she could name it whatever she wanted. So of course the baby doll in the pink dress and hat is now named after her seven-year-old boy cousin.

Yesterday when we were painting, she insisted that I paint a picture of him. Since I paint about as well as Rasha the Painting Pachyderm (and make a lot less money), I was hoping to pacify her by paintng a picture of his head. But she told me he needed legs. I asked if he needed arms too. She said “Yes, to hug me with.”

And the other day we were talking about Auntie S who’s getting married soon. Big Sis decided that she wanted to get married, too. Her daddy was quick to remind her that  little girls don’t get married until they are Much, Much Older. To which she replied, “Yeah, and when Keegan’s older too.” Sigh. If he’s her picture of what a good man looks like, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t ask for better.

Sweet Cousins

 

Speaking of cousins, today is Fancy Nancy’s (aka Daphne) birthday. She turns FOUR YEARS OLD today, so she gets a very special whine and cheese birthday shoutout. (She’s old enough for whine, right?) Happy birthday, little niece. Your spirit and creativity delight. Your dedication to FSU football (including doing the tomahawk chop at an inappropriately young age) inspires. Your playfulness and care for your little sister blesses others (especially your tired mommy). Your ability to memorize every line, every costume, and every movement from Cinderella so you can make Mommy and Daddy reenact it in the middle of a restaurant amuses the rest of us. Here’s to many more years of princess dresses and dollar-store jewelry. We love you and happy birthday!

Fancy Nancy

Growing Pains

13 Nov

Whine: The Rice Krispie renovation went so well, we decided to go with a similar concept in the living room. We’ve chosen Pepperidge Farm’s Crushed Goldfish for the living room instead of our boring beige carpet.

Cheese: We had an impromptu date at Target last night, Mr. Dad and I. Forty-five minutes of uninterrupted shopping followed by a tall Caramel Apple Spice from Starbucks. Whatever you do, don’t look at the nutritional info on this. (You did it anyway, didn’t you? Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

 

I can’t say that I have ever actually experiened true growing pains. Unless you count the time when I was in fifth grade and decided to shave the place above my nose where my eyebrows seemed to be growing together. That hurt. In fact, I remember very clearly that being the same day I practiced my kissing skills on a Teen Beat picture of Kirk Cameron, who, incidentally happened to be the star of the hit tv sitcom Growing Pains. Perhaps my ill-advised grooming ritual was motivated by my heart-felt adoration for Kirk, but who knows why fifth-grade girls do anything.

Anyway, as I was saying, I’ve never knowingly experienced the scientific phenomena of growing pains. But I think that the term lends itself nicely to the universal human experience of screwing up repeatedly on the path to acquiring a new skill or knowledge. From the eyebrow-shaving experience I learned to NEVER, EVER, EVER do that again. From lighting a pork chop on fire and then throwing it on the floor to put out the flames I learned that if you pick it up off the floor and rinse it off it’s just fine. From having my toddler finally fall asleep at midnight I learned that naptime ends by 4:30 every day, and that Benadryl treats more than just runny noses, if you know what I mean. (I know, I’m a terrible mother.)

So if screwing up and lighting things on fire is just part of the deal in life and learning, why do I hate it so much?

Why do I mutter angrily under my breath when my cake sinks like a California sinkhole? Why do I bang my head on the cold tile of the bathroom floor after Big Sis has yet another accident? Why is the learning process so upsetting to me?

I find that learning is messy and I hate messes. More specifically, I hate cleaning up messes–it interferes with my tv-watching/novel-reading/anything-but-cleaning time. Not to mention that learing implies that I’m not perfect, that I don’t know it all. I don’t know about you, but discovering this about myself (over and over) ranks right up there with getting a colonoscopy.

I want to be a little less focused on knowing it all and doing it right the first time and a little more focused on enjoying the process, even when its messy and frustrating and painful. I want to learn to laugh at myself when I make a mistake instead of hyperventilating and retreating to my bed for four days. And I want to learn it right now!

Kodak Moments–TCU Edition

10 Nov

Whine: Instead of new tile, we’ve decided Rice Krispies will be our flooring of choice. Easy to install (thanks, Big Sis!) and it snaps, crackles and pops when you walk on it. 

Cheese: Told Big Sis to go in and wash her hands. When I went to check on her I found her sitting in the sink, completely unclothed, bathing herself. I handed her a towel and walked out.

 

I know that TCU football suffered a heartbreaking loss last week, so this is a little TCU shoutout for all the Horned Frogs out there.

These pictures were taken at the TCU vs. Wyoming game (if you can call 54-7 a game).

Trifecta TCU

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Trifecta cousins in their purple and white. (From L to R: Elizabear, Ave the Brave, Lil’ Sis)

 

Adoring Fans

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lil’ Sis and her adoring fans. Seriously. They stopped to gawk at her and ask for her autograph. Well, maybe not her autograph, but if she could write they would have.

TCU2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now you can see why they stopped and gawked, can’t you?

 

TCU family

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I like this picture of our family, especially because neither Mr. Dad nor I actually went to TCU. I also really like the background. If you look closely, you can see Elizabear shoving Ave the Brave in the face. Hee hee.

 

 

 

 

I’ve got about a million more pictures from that evening, but I really want to end my posting drought, so I’m going to leave it at that.

Post Script

5 Nov

Whine: Just heard gagging from the other room. I ran in to inspect and discovered Lil’ Sis throwing up. I figured she was choking on something, but when I went to fish around in her mouth to find it, I made her throw up more. Awesome. Two minutes later I discovered a leaf hiding in her mouth, neatly folded and stuck on the roof of her mouth.

Cheese: Exercise. A clean house. Homemade dinner. All in one day. What’s next? Up-to-date photo albums? Cleaned out closets? Don’t be ridiculous.

 

At the end of my last post I touted my ability to pretend to exercise. Well, something unfortunate happened today.

I exercised for real.

I’m not sure what got into me, except that when I got up this morning I was soooooooo crabby and I decided that if I ran hard enough, I could run the crabbies right out. So I went from being a non-runner to being a person whose crabbiness propelled her a full three point one miles. Oh, yeah, I ran a 5K today for NO APPARENT REASON except that I hate to be awake. And do you know what? It totally worked.

Question: Does it count as a “sports injury” if you’re too tired and sore to move?

Quick Hits

5 Nov

Whine: Lil’ Sis has her very first ear infection. And first amoxicilin. And the resulting digestive unrest. But at least her ear feels better!

Cheese: Gruyere. Definitely gruyere.

 

Ok, ok, I’ve got to admit I’ve been tuned into the election ALL NIGHT (ok, ok, technically not ALL night, but some of it) and the crazy graphics and red and blue flashing lights and prognostications and victory speeches have kept me from writing (or maybe I was watching dvr, but that’s neither here nor there). But, now that the fat lady has sung (and my show is over), I return to you, my loyal readers, to entertain and enlighten.

But since it is, in fact, late-o’clock, I will employ a little writing technique I like to call quick hits, thus removing any need for cohesvie thought. Our quick hits tonight are brought to you by rocky road ice cream and two sleeping children.

 

Tonight I . . .

. . . saw a hologram. Yes, you heard me correctly, a hologram. CNN had one of their anchors piped in via hologram!?! I felt like I was watching the original Star Wars (circa 1977). “Obama, you’re our only hope. . .” If you want to watch it, click here.

. . . am hoping that people of both colors (red and blue, that is) will decide to act like grown ups in the after-math/glow of this election and play nice. Ugly words don’t change history or presidents whether they are coming in or going out.  

. . . made a delicious quiche. Made of roasted red and pablano peppers, covered in gruyere cheese, surrounded by a flaky cheddar crust. Mmmmmm. And it’s true, real men do eat quiche, even Mr. Dad liked it.

. . . played backgammon and lost. Repeatedly. Grrrrrr.

. . . watched the girls’ play together, so sweet. Actually, we were walking (on a 72-degree November evening- I love Texas!) and it actually went more like this:  Lil’ Sis pulling Big Sis’ hair from the back seat of the double stroller and grinning, Big Sis turning around and thumping Lil’ Sis on the cheek in retalliation and grinning, Mr. Dad threatening Big Sis with a thump on her cheek (ow!) and scowling, Big Sis turning around, thwarted, and Lil’ Sis smiling mischeivously, like the little puppet-master she is. Oh, I am in trouble here, I know it. Don’t need a crystal ball to see that.

Well, tomorrow I hope to drag this tired mom-body to the gym so I can pretend to exercise. I have honed this valuable skill so that I can use the free child care while I take a stroll and watch HGTV, all while barely breaking a sweat.  But pretending to exercise requires just as much beauty sleep as real exercise, so I’m headed to bed.