Graveyard Brownies: Not a (Total) Fail!

I am not one of Those Creative-Type Mothers and no matter how hard I try, I will never BE one of Those Mothers. But, it’s Halloween and I’m supposed to make crafts and create Halloween type treats with my children. So, today I attempted to make these graveyard brownies I saw a Picky-Palate with my daughter.

Usually, when I attempt these type of things, it doesn’t end well. There are usually tears, sometimes injuries, thoughts of divorce, threats to run away, etc…I’m happy to report that none of those things happened today.

G & Mommy make Graveyard Brownies, a Photo Essay.

Washing her hands, excited to get started on the brownies!

Still excited! Mmmmm brownies!

Will ours look anything like that? Probably not, but we’re doing the damn thing anyway.

Helping is fun, but man, that chocolate sure looks good. I think I’d much rather be eating chocolate than making these brownies.

Oh, look! A chocolate chip!

Aaaand, she’s out. Thanks for the “help”, G!

The thing that I was the most worried about was getting the brownies out of the pan in one piece. Turns out, spraying the crap out of the pan with Crisco flour non stick spray works!

I wasn’t sure how I was going to write “RIP” on the cookies. Turns out, I’m kind of a genius.

The end result? Definitely not as awesome as the the ones pictures in the recipe, but not as bad (ugly?) as I expected.

(Originally found on Picky-Palate.com )

Happy Girl. Happy Mama. Happy Halloween!

I wasn’t sure that G was going to be able to celebrate Halloween this year. It’s been a rough few days. But yesterday she showed huge signs of improvement. Last night, she asked if she could go to school today– she didn’t want to miss the costume parade/class party. I told her I’d make my decision in the morning.
She slept through the night for the first time in so many nights– Not a single coughing episode. And this morning when she woke up, she was happy and most importantly, cough free. My Mama Gut said she was fine to go to school and so I gave her the good news.
She smiled the biggest smile and hugged me tightly. Joy!
Of course, 20 minutes later it was all “MY HEAD ITCHES” and “DO I HAVE TO WEAR THIS HAT?” and “I HATE FRECKLES!”
But Oh My Justin Bieber (as G says), once I finished braiding and bobby pinning her 200 pounds of hair into that wig, she looked absolutely adorable.

One Day This Blog Will Be Funny Again. At Least I Hope So.

When I said I was going to write every day, I freaking meant it. But then, life went and got all BATSHITCRAZYINSANEWTF?!
I don’t even know where to start because so much has happened, but there is so little I can actually write about it. This is why I’ve remained silent. Because what’s the point of writing through something if you can’t write what you really need/want to say?
What I can say is this: I went to Vegas, had an amazing time with friends and family, came home and shit hit the fan. In an instant, everything was different. Friendships were severed, lives were in ruin.
I spent the last week processing my feelings about the situation and have come to the realization that it just sucks. And it’s going to continue to suck for months and months.
You know what else sucks?
When your child has pneumonia.
Over a week ago, G developed a cough. I always worry about her when she gets a cough because of her history with RSV and asthma and 911 calls and late night trips to the ER. The cough seemed pretty ordinary, until Wednesday night. So, I called early Thursday morning to try to get an appointment to see her doctor. Unfortunately, he had no appointments available, so they scheduled her with another doctor. This doctor was nice enough, but her diagnosis of “allergies” didn’t sit right with me. But she’s the doctor, right? (WRONG.) On Friday, I was back at Kaiser. This time we were able to see our doctor and he was all “yeah, sounds a little bronchial to me. Let’s get her on antibiotics.” I thanked him and said “I’ve not had much sleep the past few nights” to which he responded “No wonder you look the way you do!”
Dysfunctional doctor/patient relationships are so much fun!
She started to improve, enough so that we decided to take her to the pumpkin patch on Sunday.
Apparently, that wasn’t our best Parental Move because Sunday night, her cough intensified and she broke out with fever.
We took her back to the doctor’s on Monday. He took x-rays and didn’t like what he saw. He said he was going to treat her for pneumonia. He gave her a shot of antibiotics and switched up her medication.
She seemed to be doing better yesterday, but last night, around 1am, she had another coughing spasm and today, the coughing and wheezing continues.
I am now trying to decide if I should take her back to see the doctor because I think she should be improving after 2 days on the new antibiotics. But maybe I’m not giving it enough time? The thing is– it’s her lungs. You don’t screw around when it comes to the lungs.
I feel so bad for my daughter. All of the coughing and sleepless nights have left her physically exhausted and emotionally fragile. She’s doing the best she can to get through this. She takes her medication and her inhaler without complaining. She rests when I tell her she needs to rest. She drinks all of the water and juice that I ask her to drink and all without whining or complaining. She has had a few moments where she’s broken down and cried. All I can do is hold her closely and let her know that I am doing everything in my power to make sure she’s being taken care of properly so that she gets better as soon as possible. I’ve broken down and cried myself a few times–It’s rough when you have to watch your child suffer. I want nothing more than for her to get well so she can get back to being a little girl again.

Chicks, Man.

Last night PigHunter was sitting on the couch watching online instructional videos for “how to make apple crisps.” I was sitting at the kitchen table giving my daughter a french manicure because she is obsessed with french manicures.
After PigHunter was finished watching cooking videos, he turned on the television. He changed the channel until he ended up on whatever channel it was that was showing Pretty In Pink.
G turned her head towards the TV. “What are you watching, Dad?” She asked.
“Pretty In Pink.” He replied.
“What’s that about?” She asked, in a tone that indicated she was a liiiiiiittle disturbed that her dad was watching a show that had the words “pretty” and “pink” in the title.
“It’s an 80’s movie.” He said.
She paused for a minute. Looked at me. Looked at him.
“I’m pretty sure you mean LADIES movie, Dad because you’re totally being a chick right now.”
We laughed until one of us peed in our pants a little.

Rainy Day

There was nothing I loved more as a child then playing in the rain. I loved placing a leaf in the stream of water gushing down the street, on it’s way to the gutter, and seeing how fast it would wash away. I love titling my head back and feeling the rain on my face. I loved dancing in it, jumping in puddles and twirling around while singing in it.
Yesterday, it started to pour. I told my daughter to grab her coat so we could go out and play in the rain.
I watched as she stuck her hands out to let the rain drench her palms. She giggled and stepped out a little further. Her clothes started to get wet. It bothered her for a minute, but I told her that it was okay! She could change when she got inside. So, she just went for it, allowing herself to experience the rain on her hands, on her face, on her clothed little body.
I stood next to her, enjoying the feeling of both the rain and my daughter’s joy.
Magical, that rain.

Two Years

When I was in kindergarten, my grandpa would pick me up from school every Wednesday to spend the afternoon with me. He would take me miniature golfing, or sometimes to go on the trampolines. He’d take me out to lunch, usually to get a hamburger. I remember those days– I remember how happy I felt to be with him. I remember how much fun I had riding around town with him.
I remember how special he made me feel.
My grandpa was extremely proud of me. He thought I was the most beautiful, talented little girl and he made sure that everyone in his life knew how wonderful he thought I was.
When I lost my grandpa, I lost the one person who truly loved me for who I was, unconditionally, no matter how badly I had behaved or failed him. He never got angry with me or said unkind words to me. He was protective of me, he was proud of me, he genuinely loved to spend time with me.
His departure from this world has left a deep void in my soul.
There’s a story I love to tell my kids about my Grandpa that I want to share with you.
It was a cold, rainy day. I was on restriction– for what? I can’t remember. All of the neighborhood kids were outside playing in the rain in our driveway. I was sitting by the window, looking outside at everyone having a good time. I was upset that I was missing out on the fun. As I was watching and dying a little on the inside, I saw my grandpa’s car pull up.
I made my face just a little bit sadder as he walked up the driveway, knowing he’d see me and wonder why I was sad.
When he walked in the door, he immediately asked me why I was sitting inside instead of playing with the kids outside.
“I’m on restriction!” I whined, tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m not allowed to go outside.”
My grandpa looked at me and said “Oh, fer crying out loud. Get out there and play!”
I was tempted, but there was no way I was going to disobey my parents. I would get SO BUSTED the minute my grandpa left if I tried that.
He could see the fear in my eyes.
“Just go! Don’t worry about your parents, I’ll take care of them!”
That was all the reassurance I needed.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, skipped outside and joined the kids.
As a parent, this story makes me cringe a little. I would be angry if my parents undermined my parental authority in that manner.
But the child in me looks back on that and remembers a man who just wanted me to be happy. A man who was willing to stand up, speak up for me.
He continued to be that person for me when I needed him most– my teenage years.
When my parents got caught up on a cult-like, legalistic view of Christianity, my grandpa (and grandma) tried to speak up on my behalf– even covering for me when I wanted to go on dates with my future husband. (No, I was not allowed to be alone with MY FUTURE HUSBAND. But that’s another story for another day.)
I don’t know if I would have survived those years without having him (and my grandma) in my corner.
Two years later, I still think about him every day. Some days, I feel guilty. Guilty that I didn’t spend enough time with him. Other days, I’ll feel pure joy when I think back to something he said, or look at a picture of him with my children.
The sadness and ache I felt in my soul when he passed has slowly been replaced with the warmth and the love he left behind in his words- both written and spoken.
I’m grateful for the love he left behind that I can and will carry with me always.

So, This Just Happened.

“Mom, would you be mad if I dumped mud, wood chips, grass and leaves into the bathroom sink?”

Mad is not how I would describe my feelings about this. I would say I feel…Confused (WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?!) and dread? HOW WILL I CLEAN THIS?!)
But mad, um, not really?
Except, maybe a liiiiiiiiiittle?
Kids!

Photo Walk

I am falling in love with photography all over again.
Not that I ever fell in love with it. It is my passion, it is what I love to do more than almost anything else. But for the past few months, I’ve lacked inspiration. I’ve let little moments with my family pass by without taking the time to pick up the camera and capture them.
I’ve missed shooting. I’ve missed editing. I’ve missed posting them here to share with you.
Yesterday, I took the kid’s for a walk on the horse trails so I could take a few photos of them. Gabby was actually excited about it. She brought along a notepad so she could write down the things she found while we walked. The boys? They were not happy about it at all. They protested. They sighed. They rolled their eyes. But in the end, they put on their shoes and (kind of, sort of) enjoyed themselves while I snapped away.
Oh, how I’ve missed you, Photography. I plan on doing this more often. I may even start my own photography business. Looking into the details now.

Entertaining Me While At the Same Time Annoying Me

When I came home from the gym tonight, I poured myself a glass of water and sat down to buy some music for my iTouch. The TV was paused– Dancing With the Stars. (I have the timer set on the DVR.) My husband walks into the room, sits down on the couch and goes “hey, your shows on. Are you gonna watch it or what?” I was all “I’m busy. I’ll watch it later.” He became agitated.
He wanted to watch it.
Here’s the thing, you guys.
My husband loves Dancing With the Stars. ALL CAPS LOVES IT.
When he watches it, he gets totally into it.
Like, he claps and cheers. He points at the TV and says things like “that was awesome, he had GREAT hip action!” If someone messes up, he’ll cover his eyes, throw his head back and say things like “OH NO! I’m so embarrassed for her!”
If he thinks someone danced a good dance but they get low scores, he’ll get upset with the judges. “A FIVE?!! You’ve got to be KIDDING ME! His footwork was FLAWLESS!”
He literally never stops talking during the show– spouting off opinions, criticism, words of encouragement, helpful tips for a better performance next time. NOT EVEN MAKING THIS UP. I try to be supportive– I think it’s awesome that he loves to watch people dance and isn’t afraid to express that love so openly. But YOU GUYS. The talking! The clapping! The gasping! FOR THE LOVE OF THE PASODOBLE, I’M TRYING TO HEAR WHAT BRUNO HAS TO SAY.
So, I walk away, put on my headphones and enjoy his Child Like Excitement from across the room. It’s just better for our marriage that way.