Friday, October 24, 2014

Go, Large Birds Of The Sea. Clutch That Prolate Spheroid Between Your Talons. Goal It. Yay.

I made no secret about my lack of interest in the Seahawks last season. I mean, even Twitter heard about it:

In honor of the Super Bowl here's a pic of my bathroom decorated in Seahawks colors. You're welcome.

Friday, October 17, 2014

I Blinded Them. With Science. Or A Huge Amount Of Sugar. It's Hard To Tell.

So last summer, before we headed out of town to go camping for the weekend, I packed sandwiches to eat on the road for dinner. Just peanut butter sandwiches. Ok, not really just peanut butter. They were peanut butter banana sandwiches. OK, fine, not just plain ol' peanut butter banana sandwiches, I added honey, for extra sweetness. And... a secret ingredient! An ingredient that not only fulfilled everyone's vegetable serving for the meal, but also added that nutrient left out of most camping food: fiber. That's right. My secret ingredient was cabbage!
High five for cabbage!
Dude.
Seriously?
You can't leave me hanging like this!
People are beginning to stare....
It's embarrassing.
For realsie.

OK, fine. Be like that. But, you know what? It was PURPLE cabbage, people! PURPLE!  Which, as everyone knows, is the Fancy Nancy cabbage of the cruciferous world. Which, I thought would sell, at least Ellie, right off. I mean, the girl was wearing a tutu on a camping trip for goodness sakes! But, apparently, one should never put purple cabbage in a peanut butter, banana and honey sandwich. This seemed to be a unanimous conclusion. No matter who I asked. And, believe me, after the reaction I got from three, normally, sweet and lovely faces, I asked a LOT of people.

How-ev-er, after I got over the initial shock of the total and complete disregard for my whimsical culinary sandwich making skills, I was fiiiiine. Reeeally. Besides, you know what? I thought the sandwich was pretty good and I totally enjoyed my sandwich that night. Aaaand, truthfully, the other half of Katie's the next day. And Ellie's the day after that. But. Not Jon's. Because he's an adult and gosh darn it, should be mature enough to eat a peanut butter and cabbage sandwich even if he thinks, "there is something truly wrong with this." Whatevs. Jon.

So, imagine my surprise when this last weekend at Katie's Brownie Bridging ceremony, at which the girls watched me consume my brownie dessert garnished with a single green bean, Katie and Ellie start making a list of science experiments. Kitchen science experiments. And, heh-hem, at the top of their list?



Cabbage. Cake.

And, so, like any good mother, I jumped at the chance to help them achieve their Madam Curie goals. By facilitating the making of their Cabbage Cake. Using the Scientific Method. To prove legitimacy.

Question: 
Will cabbage taste good in a cake?

Hypothesis:
Cabbage Cake will be good.
Using purple cabbage will turn the cake a lovely lavender color.

Experiment:
Step 1a:
Shred cabbage into bowl.
How much?
Step 1b:
About this much.
Step 2:
While kids are doing the hard work of shredding cabbage by hand, pile all the sugar you can find into a bowl. Mix in the flour and all the other dry ingredients you need. 
Step 3:
Kids are known for their abundance of energy.
This comes in handy because you discover the mixer is broken so
they need to cream in the butter by hand.
Sing with me! "We're building muscles! We're building muscles!"
Step 4a:
DUMP IN THE CABBAGE!
Yum!
(FYI, this is a personal blog. I can spout any opinion I want.)
Step 4b:
Mix it in!
Using muscles!
Step 4c:
Seriously.
Mix it in.
A lot.
Step 5:
Add milk.
Cow, soy, whatever you want.
This is cow because, according to Ellie, "It's sweeter, Mommy!"
Step 6, 7 and 8:
Fill cupcake tin with cupcake papers.
Fill cupcake papers with batter.
Bake.
Step 9:
Allow to cool while...
You make the frosting.
For realsie.
Step 10: 
Frost!
Step 11:
And, finally, and most importantly,
ADD SPRINKLES!
Because sprinkles make everything taste better.
Plus they bring happiness and sunshine.
I'm lying about the sunshine part.
 Analyze:



Did you notice all those thumbs? They're pointing up, people. UP. And. They come with smiles.

Conclusion:
Cabbage cupcakes taste good.
Sadly, purple cabbage does not turn cake a lovely lavender color.

The REAL Conclusion:
I was right. Purple cabbage tastes good in anything. Including peanut butter, banana and honey sandwiches. Science doesn't lie.



P.S. For all you science sticklers out there, Katie wrote up our results with all the real scientific measurements. Because she's awesome like that.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Dibbity Dibs SHOTGUN!!

Bagsy!

Mines!

Fives!

Times infinity!

Totheinfinitypowerplusinfinity!

That's right. You heard me. I'm not new to this game.

I've.

Totally.

Called it! (raise triumphant fist of triumphantness here)

I call this. This video. Right here. Because it's totally Ellie's theme song.

For realsie.



And, don't think I don't see you. Yeah, you, over there, on the other side of the computer screen with your sad face and preschool kid skipping around your living room dressed in a sparkly tutu. I can see your theme song coveting eyes. They burn with envy. But it's too late. Go find your own my-four-year-old-is-awesome-and-adorable-and-obviously-way-better-than-all-the-other-four-year-old-DNA-out-there-in-the-world-theme-song, because I've plainly called bagsies. And, as the official Bagsy Commissioner wrote on the definitive wordsmith academic type website, Urban Dictionary*, it's quite obvious that,
"I win! You lose! Now you get a big fat bruise!"


P.S. That was petty. I apologize. Sometimes, parenthood ruins the best in us. I'm still callin' dibs though.




*Original definition:
Bagsy - the ability to claim that something is so unequivocally.
+this is an elaboration to previous rules and regulations sent out by the bagsy committee.
Bagsy - a registered trademark of the Bagsy Association would like to remind its followers of several rules:
1. Bagsy is applicable globally 2. While the Bagsy Overlord resides in Scotland and Ireland, he does travel to many locations to make sure that the bagsy heritage is being preserved 3. You can bagsy that another bagsy user doesn't have valid bagsies, however this type of "blocking" bagsy is only valid for the maximum of a year (for the few who inquired, it is also valid for a minimum of an evening) 4. Once a year has passed from a "blocking bagsy" bagsy, all bagsies by the blocked are valid again 5. Bagsy interacts with other claiming laws, such as "shot" (U.S. usage) and "touching red" (commonly used in Israel) however "bagsy" is dominant and any bagsy stated will overpower other claiming statements and local laws.
Should you have any questions please contact us - and we will be in contact with you. 

Monday, September 22, 2014

An Attempt At Intellectual Thoughts About Friendship Without Using The Phrase "Best Bestest Besties". But Only As A Fun Mental Exercise. Like Suduko. Or Slap Jack.

There is a rejuvenation to be found in the faces of good friends. Each year I retreat with three wonderful women and it is a welcomed and restful lull from the everyday as the four of us sink into an unencumbered weekend of conversation. Laughter. Discussion. Concern. Silliness. Remembrances. Hopes. Love. Life.

There is safety.

There is a safety in the kind of friendship that at different times over 20 years has sprouted, grown, wilted, slept and blossomed.

There is beauty.

There is a beauty to be found behind the eyes of each and every one of these women.  There is strength that I aspire to. Passion that I marvel at. Intelligence that can not be masked. There is never enough time. But, what time we do have, we use to its absolute fullness.

Because sleep is not important.

Because sleep is not as important as spending time with these women, 72 hours later, here I sit, trapped and inconvenienced in a blue leather airline seat, my eyes as heavy as if, for four days, I had welcomed the wee hours of the morning tending to a newborn baby instead of resting in the friendship of three of my Best Bestest Besties*. But I do not mind. Not at all. In fact, I'm rather use to it. This is our 14th year of retreat after all. And, so, I raise my poorly insulated turbulence sloshing cup of black coffee to you, my friends of the past. My friends of the present. My friends of the future. You are beautiful. You are amazing. You are phenomenal women. Cheers!


*gulp*gulp*gulp*chug*chug*chug*
DING!


"Flight Attendant! Bring me another!"



*Dude. It's harder than it looks!

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

I Missed So Much In The 80s Due To My Lack Of MTV, And, Well, Coolness

So there's a sign in one of my neighborhood roundabouts.  It looks like this:


And, while it could just be a friendly persons intent to rectify the confusion that can happen around traffic circles, it could also be someone's wicked, illicit and downright unethical intent to get "You Spin Me Round" by Dead or Alive to repeat over and over and over in everyone's heads. Like a record.

And, I was inclined to believe the last reason until I watched the original video on You Tube.



There is too much awesome here to prove malevolent intent*. Too. Much. Awesome.



*Except for the lyrics. They're kinda creepy. And stalkerish. Luckily Pete Burns eye patch distracts you from  all that.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

I LIKE MIKE!

I. Finally. Got. IT. (insert victorious Rocky type scene here)

Dudes! I finally got the Mike I've been fantasizing about ever since I read about them in one of my triathlon training books!

Wait.

I'll go get it to show you!!!

(Rustles through book case)

Found it!:



OK, so, maybe it wasn't exactly a traditional triathlon training manual.

But, seriously, I have a Mike. IN REAL LIFE!
And she's way cuter than all the other Mike's I've seen. 

We took the scenic route from preschool pick up the other day and for at least 3.5 of our 6 mile trip I heard this from the back of the bike, "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

The other 2.5 miles? Ellie varied between sustained bike bell ringing (It sounds like two women screaming, Mommy!) and belting out a few rounds of that traditional ditty "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star". And, of course, whenever I would yell out, "Pedal like you mean it!" when the hills got tough, Ellie would motivate us with an original composition that, truthfully, should totally catch on among the CrossFit crowd.  It goes something like this, "We're building muscle! We're building muscle! We can do it! We're building muscle!" The tune is original too. Just wing it.

But now, I'm wondering, do you think I can pass Ellie off as legal bike gear with the governing body of USA Triathlon for next year's tri season? Because, dudes, I'm pretty sure I have the sources to back me up to prove One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish is a full on legit tri training manual:
This is exactly what the first leg feels like. Dr. Seuss had, quite obviously, fought his way through a swim wave or two in his time. 

And that final leg? I've seen the spectators lining a tri course, sunshades in one hand, cupcakes in the other*. They think we're nuts. 

This case is going to be a total slam dunk! I wonder if they make bike shorts in a 4T size?




*True story. She was lounging in a lawn chair too.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Four Words You Should Never Say To Your Kid's Teacher

It's that time, the start of school for us up here in the Northwest. And this year? Both girls are being edjumacated. By other people. Outside of the structural walls of our house.  (And all the homeschoolers give a sigh of relief. Because I just used the word edjumacated. In a sentence. Twice.) But this leaves me with the problem of hiding certain things from Katie and Ellie's teachers. Well, not so much as things, as really, well... words. Four words that bring casual conversations with other adults to an awkward...um...halt. You know what I'm talking about. The same four words that when said are either overly praised for the courage it took to own up to or viewed with well meaning disapproval. Exactly: "Stay-At-Home-Mom".

Now those types of awkward social situations can be quietly dealt with, either with a humble "thank you" or a quick self deprecating, "I'm like the kitten on the poster, just hanging out!"


But then? Then, there are the predators. The people, who when they hear the words "stay-at-home-mom" begin to ponder and plan all the ways they can take advantage of your special family situation. And then they wait. For the perfect time, their diabolical plan, pulsing, waiting, festering in the deepest darkest parts of their hearts. Their hearts of greeeeed and INIQUITY! (Wait. googlegooglegoogledef:iniquity:wickedness Yep. That's right. Iniquity. Moving on.)

I call these people teachers.

And they usually launch their plans in September.

I'm looking at you with my serious face here, people. The one I reserve for small children and their close proximity to my caffeine cup.  Yes. That one. Because, Katie's teacher actually sent home a form for me to fill out! And? The first question? "When can you volunteer in the classroom?" Dude! I already went shopping for school supplies. At a store! That I had to drive to! Haven't I given enough? Is the depth of my parental love now to be solely measured by the amount of time I spend helping other kids master their fast math facts!?!

Apparently, yes.

So, now, I'm working on making my lies excuses more, well, plausible.... These are my top four:

1. I'd LOVE to volunteer! Unfortunately, right now I'm swamped with all my science volunteer work. The molecules in our allotrope control group have completely blindsided us with their hydrocarbon polymerisation and we need to get them into some sort of stasis, otherwise, as I'm sure you understand, one environmentalist to the other, the pinus strobus will be compromised. And, really, we don't have the time to waste. 

Pro: I sound really smart. I also rocked pre-chem back in 9th grade, so, obviously I have the credentials to back myself up.
Con: I would need to memorize a lot more science terms. That would be a lot of work. Because, truthfully? Thanks to the slackadaisical teaching of Mr.Tillet back in 9th grade, I'm not really sure what a polymerisation is...

2. Bless your heart, I've added you to my prayer list. Have a great year!

Pro: Technically, this could be totally true. And, let's face it, anyone attempting to wrangle 25 kids for six hours a day and stay sane could use a little prayer.
Con: Looking at it Biblically, I bet during those three roosters crowing, and everything else, Peter prayed for Jesus during his trial. And we all know how that turned out.

3. I'm sorry, I simply don't have the time to volunteer in the classroom this year. I'm thinking about going pro with my pole dancing. I'm close, but I'm having real trouble with the flipperty bits. It just doesn't show off the gibblets like it should, you know? 

Pro: It shows commitment to my dreams.
Con: I don't have the wardrobe to really keep this one floating all year. I don't own near enough yoga pants.

4. Once my sister dared me to stare directly at the sun. I did.

Pro: It's obtuse. It doesn't lend itself to inquiry. And, it's completely true.
Con: Can't see any. This may be the winner!


How do you get out of volunteering in your kid's schools?




UPDATE, because, dude, with this post the troll comments just write themselves:
I gave Katie's teacher Thursday afternoons.

Once a month.

And, yes, that is how much I love my kids.