easy part, where?

Wait a minute....wasn't this supposed to be getting easier??

I've been popping out babies for a while now, and I swear everyone was telling me it was "going to get easier" as the kids got older. So why the hell do I find myself needing to go to bed by 10:00 again? And why am I desperately resisting a nap in those calm quiet hours when I have no kids in the house? I am chasing my tail to try to keep up with all their homework. I have so many papers I need to sign for different teachers for different reasons every single night; then my kids end up losing recess time because I can't keep things straight.

From my perspective, things aren't getting easier. I no longer have to change diapers, but I have to wipe down public toilet seats and send everyone through a bio-chamber in restaurants. I don't have to nurse anyone, but I have to find meals that at least 2 people like to eat that can be made in bulk in less than an hour and easily frozen afterwards for quick dinners and lunches for Fergus. I don't have to physically dress my kids anymore, but they can't seem to get the clothes that extra 6-12 inches INTO the clothes basket. Nor can they turn them right-side out. At least when I was dressing them, their clothes were washed the right way out! No one is teething (except me - yay for wisdom teeth), but just try to pin down Hercules and brush his teeth at night. Go on. I double dog dare you right off the bat. And why, exactly, is it so hard to hang up the jacket that is thrown on the floor UNDERNEATH the jacket hooks? No, it did not fall. It was thrown there!

I find myself longing for the days of footie pajamas (boy were those easy to wash) and rocking chairs. At least I got to sit down on a regular basis back then! Well, now that I think about it, by the time the Princess was born I was nursing her while alternately fixing dinner, changing diapers and vacuuming. So I wasn't sitting down then, either.

I guess I'll keep running. At least it gives me an excuse to not join a gym. I'd rather run circles around my family, than run on a machine in a room full of other sweaty people. *yawn* It's almost my bedtime, so I guess I'll go get ready for tomorrow. But first, I think I'll go have a night-cap. Can't do that while preggo and/or nursing!

drinking and driving

I am a careful driver. Anyone who has been in my car on a regular basis will know that already. I drive a minivan packed with kids, for chrissakes. So it stands to reason that I don't change lanes suddenly or drive erratically; dude, I don't even really speed. I mean, we all speed. I just only do it to keep from being run over by the cops.

So on a Saturday night, with my kids in the car, I was driving north on the 695/95 conglomeration. I saw a police car on the shoulder who had pulled someone over. The officer was in the process of getting out of his car, so I decided to change lanes. I often do that if I have the chance; it's actually the law in some states. I needed to change anyway because eventually, I had a left exit coming up. I checked in my mirrors, like I always do. I am not comfortable relying solely on mirrors, so I checked in my blind spot, over my left shoulder, as I always do. I saw exactly three cars, all far enough behind me that I could safely change lanes without surprising them. I turned on my left blinker, as I always do, glanced out my window to the left one more time, and changed lanes.

The next thing I knew, movement on the shoulder caught my eye. There was a car, even with me, driving on the shoulder and all three large black men inside were screaming what I imagine to be vile death threats, similar to rap song lyrics. I was totally caught off guard, but rather than slam on my brakes in the fast lane and let them get in front of me, I kept my pace (I had the cruise control on) and I thought they'd just drop back and get into the lane.

I have no idea where they came from. I figure they must have been one of the three cars behind me. But they must have been going so fast that from the time I put my blinker on to the time I actually changed lanes, they had caught up. And I damn near ran them off the road. They dropped back, went around me, and caught up again. At this point the interstate widened from two lanes to five and I was still in the far left "exit only" lane. They were still screaming at me and I tried to ignore them. It's kind of hard to apologize to someone when you're going 70 mph in the dark. And I really was sorry! I felt awful.

Then it hit me. Literally. They were throwing things out of their car and hitting me. Unbelieveable! I had a plan. If they decided to follow me and act out their revenge even further, I planned to drive directly to the police station and not go anywhere near my house. Luckily for me, they exited at the 95 north split. I did not really want to have to drive to the police station.

When I got home, I checked to see if there was any damage to my van. It was fine, but for one thing: it reeked of beer. They were driving drunk and had the audacity to be angry at me for safely and legally changing lanes. It's one of those things where, if I had it to do over again, I wish the cops had seen me run them off the road. I might have gotten a ticket, but they would have been arrested for drunk driving and the interstate would have been a little bit safer that night.

betty crocker day

Hearty Chicken and Wild Rice Soup

1 (10 oz) can cream of chicken soup
2 C chicken broth (or 2 C water, 2 tsp. chicken bouillion)
2 C water (some reserved from green beans)
1-2 cans green beans
1 C sliced carrots
1Tbs minced onion (more or less to taste)
1Tbs minced garlic (more or less to taste)
1/2 tsp thyme
1-1/2 pounds cubed chicken
1 (6oz) pkg long grain wild rice mix
1 can evaproated milk

1) Combine soup, broth, water, spice packet from rice mix, onion, garlic, thyme and pepper (to taste) in slow cooker.
2) Add carrots, green beans and chicken.
3) Cover and cook on high 4-5 hours, low 6-7 hours.
4) Taste and add more seasoning, if necessary. Add long grain rice mix and evap milk 1 hour before serving. (If you add them any earlier, the milk will break down and the rice will be really mushy.)
5) Stir in more water for a thinner soup, or add mashed potato flakes for a thicker stew.


Honey Oatmeal Bread

1 C warm water
1 Tbs oil
1/4 C honey
1 tsp salt
1/2 C oatmeal (quick or regular)
2-1/4 C bread flour
1 tsp active dry yeast

Combine in order given in the bread machine mixing pan. Select the Basic cycle and Light Crust. I've never made regular bread without a bread machine, so if you don't have one, my advice is go get one. (tee-heee!)


Peanut Butter Fingers

1/2 C sugar
1/2 C brown sugar
1/2 C (1 stick) butter
1 egg
1/3 C peanut butter (chunky or smooth)
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp HOT water
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 C flour
1 C oatmeal

1) Cream butter and sugars. Add egg, peanut butter, and salt. Blend well.
2) Dissolve baking soda in the hot water. Add with vanilla to the mixing bowl. Add flour and oatmeal, mixing well.
3) Spread evenly into greased 9x13 pan. Bake at 350* for 25 minutes. (For dark or glass pans, reduce temp to 325*.)

Topping

2-4 Tbl evaporated milk
1/2 C powdered sugar
1/4 C creamy peanut butter
1 C semisweet chocolate chips

1) Blend the first three ingredients until creamy and smooth.
2) Sprinkle chocolate chips onto HOT cake as soon as it comes out of the oven. When the chips have a shiny appearance, drizzle the peanut butter icing over the hot cake and melting chips.
3) Swirl the peanut butter icing and chips together with an offset spatula or butter knife. Cool completely in pan before cutting into "fingers".

it's all about the self-esteem

Life is about growing, changing, trying new things. Learning doesn't stop at the classroom door. Right, right. So I'm taking a class. It's not an ordinary class; it's a dance class. I do a little homework ahead of time. Find out what to wear, a little of what to expect. Read bios about the instructors. I leave my wedding ring at home, for safety reasons. I'm thinking ahead. I'm prepared. I can do this, right?

I am not prepared. I actually arrive a bit late; honestly it really was the traffic. So the instructor has already begun when I have to sneak through the back of the class to find my own space. That in itself is a bit difficult because it seems almost everyone is stationed along the back wall. Right where I want to be. Where no one can see how badly I dance. But the purpose of taking a class is to become better at something, to acheive or master a skill in the process of learning. Boy, do I need help in here.

The lights are dimmed. Lenny Kravitz's cover of "American Woman" pulses through the room. I feel so out of place. I also feel like the oldest woman in the room. Someone who shouldn't be there, even though the dance company touts that this class is for all women of all ages and all shapes. I see my friend across the room and giggle nervously at her as she follows the instructions from the teacher.

"That's right ladies, play a little now and stand up nice and slow. The only way to stand up in this class is with your feet apart and your tushie in the air. Show 'em what you've got. Trace yourself out here and play with your hair a little. Show 'em your moneymaker. Sexy strut around your pole. Now let's have a smack and I want to hear it, ladies. Nice. We're going to do some stretches now to warm up and then well start learning some spins. Everyone stand on the right side, get a good grip on your pole and lean out. Let gravity do the work; you should feel the pull all along your ribcage..."

That's right, I said pole. I went to pole dancing class. It was a unique experience and a killer workout. I have a new and profound respect for the women who do this kind of work 8-12 hours a day. They certainly do earn their money. For 24 hours afterwards, I am in excruciating pain from the muscle strain of learning the proper way to jump, as well as the Catch Spin, Fireman Spin, Pike Spin, and a "Showcase." I have several bruises and contact burns on my ankles and shins from spinning improperly. But I've got that Fireman Spin down pat! I was doing all this barefoot. Some of my more experienced classmates were taking their instruction wearing six-inch platform heels or those huge black patent leather boots. Talk about coordination!

The thing I would like to change about this experience is that I would like to actually be able to dance afterwards. You know, hold a rhythm and feel confident about my *ahem* moves. I have to say, I will most likely go back. Next time I'll wear something a little more form fitting so I don't look as frumpy. My abs are feeling better and the pain in my arms is getting less noticable. I haven't taken Tylenol all day today! I just hope I can find a class going on while the kids are in school.

so sad

I have taken to studying outside on my front porch. It is wide, airy and relatively quiet. And I can keep an eye on the neighborhood, Nosy Nancy that I am. While reading the days of the week aloud in Arabic this beautiful afternoon, a woman came into my front yard to speak to me. She was concerned about a man who had approached her young daughter on this very street and wanted to know if I knew who it might be so she could check it out.

This had apparently happened during the 5 minutes it took me to make a cup of coffee and come back outside. An older gentleman had been standing in his front yard and asked this girl to come into his house to listen to his machine for him. She apologized and refused, then headed straight home. What a level-headed girl. That mother should be proud. After hearing this chain of events, I knew exactly who it was and I was immediately saddened, knowing that the old man meant no harm and most likely did need help. I reassured the mother that I would check it out for her and get back to her.

The 80+ year old man who lives two doors down is one of the sweetest old men alive. His wife was taken to the hospital two, maybe three days ago. I was curious if he was stopping passers-by for conversation because he was lonely or if he genuinely needed help. So I got neighborly and paid him a visit. He is very hard of hearing, so when he didn't answer the front door, I walked around to the back. He was sitting on his porch, watching the birds in the back yard, as I often see him doing this time of day. I asked him if there was anything he needed and he jumped up (as well as an 80 year-old man can) and grinned at me, leading me into his sunroom.

"Why yes! How? How did you know that I was needing your help? Thank you so very much for coming down here. I can't hear my message machine." He tapped his gnarled old finger on a yellow tablet of paper and said, "Could you please write down that message? I missed the call and I can't hardly hear anymore and my wife is in the hospital and can't do my hearing for me."

It wasn't the call he was waiting for, but he was glad to get the message nonetheless. It was from someone else calling to check in on him.

They will be moving soon. They just sold their house to move to a care facility close to one of their sons' families. As many times as I've seen an ambulance parked out there, I am glad they will be under close watch soon.

In today's world, it stinks that an old man must sit alone and wait for someone to guess he needs help because there aren't any real "neighbors" anymore. It stinks that when he does venture out to seek help, he is immediately suspicioned of harming children. It stinks that I hadn't thought to go check on him before now. In my neighborhood, where the young families are slowly moving in as the older couples move out to care facilities, we ought to take it upon ourselves to check on our elders. After all, it's only neighborly.

midnight blue

the shadow passes black across my face again
the melancholy rises from within.
don't i have anything someone else wants?
with all this in my hands, i sit here by myself.
i'd hoped to find someone here to meet me
a stranger looking to be friends;
a friend with laughter or passion on their lips;
and here i am with hot tears on my cheeks

alone.

again.

you can't fake pound cake

Strawberry Pound Cake

4 large eggs, room temperature, slightly beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 1/ 2cups unbleached flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened (NOT margarine)
1 1/4 cups white sugar

1. Preheat oven to 325*. Coat the inside of a 9x5-inch loaf pan with shortening and dust it with flour, knocking out excess flour.
2. Combine eggs and vanilla in a small bowl and lightly beat. Combine flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium mixing bowl.
3. Combine butter and 1 1/4 C sugar in a large mixing bowl and cream with electric mixture on medium-high speed until fluffy, about three minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl once or twice.
4. Add the egg mixture and combine thoroughly, scraping the sides of the bowl.
5. Turn the mixer to low and add the flour mixture 1/2 cup at a time, scraping the flour down after each addition. After the last addition, beat on medium speed for 30 seconds.
6. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top with a rubber spatula. Bake the cake until it is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let the cake cool in the pan for about 5 minute, invert it onto a wire rack, then turn right-side up to cool completely.

This pound cake will keep at room temperature (wrapped in plastic) for up to 3 days or refrigerated up to one week.

Strawberry Sauce

6 cups strawberries, hulled and quartered
1/4 cup white sugar

1. Combine the strawberries and sugar (more or less to taste, depending on how tart the berries are)
2. Let the mixture stand for about 15 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the sugar dissolves.

Slice the cake into thick slices (you should get 10 slices from the loaf). Spoon the strawberry sauce atop and heap with whipped cream.

Pound Cake Secrets:

* You can use other summer fruit available: blueberries, raspberries, peeled and thinly sliced peaches, plums, apricots or even mangoes instead of strawberries.
* Room temperature eggs blend better and result in fluffier baked goods.
* Butter makes a better pound cake than margarine.
* The pound cake will be richer if you add the ingredients in little portions and blend them thoroughly.
* The top will be a better shape if you flatten the batter before baking.
* If you don't have a cooling rack, take one of the racks out of your oven before you heat it up to help the air circulate around the cake as it cools.
* Do not wrap the cake too tightly in plastic or seal the lid completely on a plastic container or it will "sweat" and get soggy.