The Power of Frozen Peas

I love to cook and I love a cooking challenge.  I use food as a means to show people how much I care for them and I consider myself to be a pretty good cook. I got the fancy knife skills. I got the cool gadgets. Food and I, we got a groove that speaks to my soul and my creative nature.

Sometimes, though, even a good cook can have an off day.

Yep. That is what happens when you turn on the wrong burner and melt a bag of frozen peas.

While laughing at this big mess I thought "what the heck is wrong with me?" It was just supposed to be a simple meal before we headed off for church. Popcorn shrimp, peas and mac & cheese.  Nothing glamorous. So why in the world did I make such a rookie mistake?

I mean I make cheesecakes, lasagne,  ducks, eggs benedict, gumbo all from scratch and I can't even manage to cook frozen peas without nearly catching the house on fire?

Then it hit me. It was too simple. Instead of treating my cooking and my ingredients with care and respect I just threw them around like they were a bag of poo. I got a bloated head and a cocky attitude that a simple meal didn't need my time and passion as much as a made-from-scratch meal did. I didn't even start cooking until 30 minutes before we were supposed to eat.  So, God knocked me off my high horse. Because He doesn't delight in the proud.

I'm just thankful it only takes a melted bag of peas to put me in my place and bring some humility into my heart. Years ago He had to be a lot harder on this stubborn gal.

I know one thing is for sure. I won't be underestimating any more simple meals any time soon. And I have the inbedded squished peas in my concrete to remind me of that everytime I step up to the stove.

Catchin extra zzz's

Hey. Hey mommy. Are you ready to get up yet?

My girls have been driving me nuts with their sleep schedule all of their lives.  Nothing is ever the same except their bedtime. One week they get up at 7:00. The next they get up at 8:00. Every once in a while they even stretch it to 9:00. It would be nice to know when those early days are going to be so I don't stay up ridiculously late blogging about how hard it is to parent them. Heck, it would even be nice to know when those late days are going to be so I can enjoy sleeping in late and not jump up out of the bed worried someone has spontaneously combusted and the house is burning to the ground around me.

I love to sleep. But once I'm up there is no going back to bed until at least 11:00. My brain and my body just will not shut down before then. And when I'm woken up before I've had a full 9 hours, well, I didn't get the pet name "bear," for no reason.

Some time ago, after daylight savings time, I realized Delores was starting to grasp how to tell time.  She could tell you the hour of the day at least. And I thought "Yes! This is my chance!" I got a wall clock we had laying around and put it in her room just to see how she would react to it.  The dagum thing ticked so loud it woke her up in the middle of the night and then she woke me up. Obviously, the complete opposite of what I was going for.  So, I took it out of her room and waited to see if she would adjust to the time change. She didn't.

So, I set out on a mission. To find the almost perfect alarm clock for her room.  If you can't tell, when I set out to get something I already have it in my mind what qualities it should have and how much it should cost. If I can't find it, then I don't settle for anything else.  This of course has its pros and cons.  I don't buy a lot of stuff I don't need but then sometimes I have to go without. 

Three trips out and three stores later I had it. All mine! Let me tell ya, there are not many more things that can make me feel better than that. 

She was so excited about it. It was pink with pink numbers and it didn't tick and it lit up. She has been talking about it and showing it off for days. Poor little child had know idea that her new prized possession was really just a prop in her mother's diabolic scheme to sleep in. Muah ahahahahah!

We discussed the features off the clock and counted the numbers and discussed how the little hand tells the hour. Then I told her "Ok, now when you get up in the morning you can't come out of your room until the little hand is on the 8. Think you can do that? " She was all for it.

I have to admit that initially I felt bad about tricking Delores. We tell them the truth about everything from where babies come from to Santa Claus. But I figure you have to find things you can laugh about to get you through all the madness besides all the funny, cute stuff kids are supposed to do. That's one of the joys of parenting, right?

It's a good thing I didnt let my guilt get the best of me. I have had 2 glorious days of sleeping past 8:00. It actually worked! And she is so proud of herself she comes flying into my room with her clock to show me she did it.  Not really the way I want to be woken up but, hey, I'll take that if I can catch a few more zzz's.

Secretly happy for sickness

He he he*

Let's just be honest here. Being sick does have its benefits as well as its obvious downfall of feeling like poo. You get an excuse to do as little as possible and lay in bed as much as you want with no one giving you grief about it. In fact people will make you do nothing at all and wait on you hand and foot so you will feel better.  Plus you get to miss work if you have a job.

When someone else in your home is sick that also has its own set of benefits and disadvantages. You feel awful for them but then you get to take care of them and they're so sweet and helpless. Especially if their your husband. They get to come home early or stay home from work. You also get to have a little more alone time and you don't necessarily have to cook dinner because sick people only want little to nothing to snack on. You get to watch what you want. Stay up as late as you want. Play on your phone and blog as long as you want without those looks. You know, the seriously-are-you-gonna-do-that-all-night look. So when Josh texted me saying he was sick I'm ashamed to say I was looking foward to it a little. 

Josh graphically went on to say he had a stomach bug and couldn't keep anything down. I initially thought he was joking. Besides his constant allergies, he is never sick. Ever. But no, he was so miserable and trying to work and deliver packages while stopping to get sick or find a bathroom the whole day. I felt so bad for him. All I wanted to do was help but I couldn't do anything. He had to wait for someone to come get boxes off his truck and then his dad brought his car to him and he had to drive from Spartanburg to home. He didn't even get here till 4:00. The last time I talked to him he felt like he was going to pass out and couldn't even move. I was wrecked with worry and helplessness. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I went shopping. 

After I knew someone had arrived to relieve him and I knew he was on his way home I started thinking about how I could take care of him. So hi ho, hi ho, off the the sto I go. I got all kinds of things to take care of him for about 2 days. I also got him a car magazine to read since we took the TV out our room and I knew he would be bored just laying around in bed. I cleaned the toilets and put double trash bags in all the trash cans (cause no one wants that stuff to leak out of the free "recycle me," walmart bags). I set out little medicine cups with ginger ale and anti-projectile medicine on the bedside table. I made the bed and turned down his side. I laid out his pj's and propped up his magazine on my pillow. Then I picked up every obstacle out of the floor that would prevent him from a smooth sail to any bathroom or trashcan. I put wet washcloths in the fridge and then I waited.

Josh got home and I was outside with the girls. At a distance he barely resembled a shell of the man I fell in love with. His face was washed. His stature was slumped and he was shaking from exhastion and dehydration. And I felt my gut flip with empathy and guilt. Here I am thinking about being needed and about how it was going to benefit me and my dear husband is feeling like death. God forgive me.

Go ahead and judge me. I deserve it. 

He went straight to bed. I didn't hear a peep all night. He didn't need me at all. He got up the next morning and went to work.

As for me, oh I got my pay back. I stayed up way too late and then realized I was going to have to sleep on the couch. With the cat. Purring and pawing and licking my face. All. Night. Long. 

Moral of the story. Resist the urge to be selfish. Cause, you know, it's just selfish.

*I do not support nor watch "Family Guy" but this seemed to be the most appropriate image to capture the context. Judge me on my character, not my cartoon choice. :)

I might get a dog. maybe.

Stop trying to make me want you with those...cute, adorable, droopy eyes.
Oh alright. If you insist.

It started about a year and a half ago. Josh was dropping hints about getting a dog. He'd talk about how much he missed our Walker hound, Bella, we had to give away when Delores was an infant. He'd suggest we just go look around at the humane society. He even went to the point to send me a picture of a stray he saw on his route with a "pleeeaase?"

My answer, always, was "NO WAY!" I'm the one that has to train the dog. The one that has to clean up the poop. The one that has to chase it around the house while also chasing around the lewis ladies and trying not to loose my friggin mind. 

But because I'm a deal makin kinda gal, I agreed that when our last child was around 3 years old I would consider getting a dog. Seemed like a fair deal. At 3 kids can kind of take care of their self and play by their self and I wouldn't have to spend so much time trying to keep the child from killing their self. 

I figured that would buy me like 3 more years. Little did I know the rollercoaster we would be on trying to have our last child. So here we are. Approaching the due date of our second miscarriage and my last little fireball, Lydia, is rolling right along to the threes and I've been catching myself contemplating getting a puppy.

A cute droopy basset hound puppy with its long floppy ears and short stubby little legs.  Not small enough to be an ankle bitter. Not big enough to knock glasses off tables or knock one of the ladies over. Still has the hound qualities I love, yet not too energetic that it needs a ton of yard space to follow its hunting insincts. It has Goldilock's Facebook status written all over it. Just right.

Now around my house everyone has been trained in such a fashion that when mamma says "jump," they don't wait to ask how high. They just start jumping. I don't bark demands at my husband but when I put an idea out there like "I think I want to get a dog. A basset hound in fact." He doesn't wait around for me to elaborate. He gets on it. Which is great. That's how I got walls knocked down in my house. Literally. But, sometimes that can backfire.

He's looking on the humane society's website, craigslist, iwanna, everywhere. He's showing me pictures of these puppies an hour away for $400. Then I get than panicky feeling like $400, what?! An hour away? Oh jeez and we have to buy food, a lesh, a bed, a collar, toys, treats, bowls. Where are we even going to put the bowls? Will Rosy eat next to a puppy?  God, what if I can't keep the puppy from eating the cat food? Will Rosy go all psycho kitty from jealousy? Will pee and poop even come out of concrete? Another vet bill! Crap I still have to take Rosy's to get those other two shots due like a year ago. Shuga! What did I get myself into?

Breathe...

Then I remember you take the good with the bad. Pray. Weigh your pros and your cons. Set your limits. Pray some more. Trust God. What is meant to be will be...but not for 400 big ones, that's for sure.

So we will wait till God puts the best dog in our path. Of course, I don't know when that will be. But at least I do know I want a puppy despite all the axiety ridden variables. I think. Maybe.

Today...

Today we were supposed to be getting Lydia's pictures made, but her outfit didn't come so I guess we will have to reschedule for next Saturday.

I have no idea what we are going to do today. I have an appointment at 8:45 to get a manicure that again was suppose to be for the pictures. They take those close up pictures of the babies feet and fingers in your hands and I want to have nice nails for her first pictures. And I wanted to get pampered a little. I'm working now and making extra income so we should be able to pamper ourselves after pinching pennies for 3 years while I went to school and had babies. So, I take that back, I am not getting my nails done for the pictures. I am getting them done for me. So there, lol.

Anyway everything has been going good. Delores has been doing better. She is still a bit whiny, but she probably always will be. That is just her, but we have it down to a minimum. Lydia is also doing good. She is sleeping 10 hours at night and eating 4 oz at a time. She weighs about 12 pounds and is 24 inches long. Next month Delores has her 18 month check up and we will find out if she has put on any weight or grown any. At 12 months she was 19 pounds and hadn't grown any in 9 months. Now She fits well in her 18 month clothes so maybe she has gained around 2 or 3 pounds. Maybe.

Josh is good. I think he is enjoying his job and right now he is enjoying sleeping late. I'm on the other side of the house with the tv on and I can hearing him snoring in the bedroom  lol.

I am good I guess. My job gets to me sometimes. My boss has turned out to be a jerk 80% of the time and then we will have one good day where he says something like "I've got a good paralegal now," instead of looking at me and talking to me like I'm an idiot the rest of the time.

My projects are at a stand still. Lydia's room is done except for the wall painting and the slip cover for the chair. I've decided I'm not gonna do that though cause my sewing machine is on the fritz. I'll post pictures eventually. I'm staying right at my goal weight at 110. The diapers are just sitting there in pieces because, again, my sewing machine is one the fritz.

We have decided we are going to do something about Ava because she is just (as Delores says) a bad dog. She won't stay in the back yard. She has been pooping in the house. She disobeys. She growls at Delores when she gets near her food bowl. She tears things up in the house when we are gone so she has to either stay outside or stay in a crate. She has snapped at Delores before but she knows who is boss now. She freaks out when we put her in the car. She freaks out during thunderstorms and hides under the bed where she has hidden to poop or throw up before, and when Josh tries to get her out she snaps at him. She is just not the dog for us and we need to get rid of her. The problem is, who wants a dog like that? Also Delores really does like Ava, so I don't want to do anything with her until we can get another dog to replace her. I can't train another dog right now. So I think we have decided to wait till Lydia is walking and then it is good bye bad dog. She has no idea how good she has it.

Well, I have to go get Josh up because I have to get ready for my appointment and also because he is really starting to annoy me lol. Bye for now

long time overdue

A lot has gone on since I last wrote. In fact I don't even know where to begin. I guess I should start off by saying this post started before mother's day weekend so It is all off on dates. I apologize for that.

Last week was pretty intense. Josh had to go to GA for training for FedEx and it was my first week of work. I didn't mention that Josh was gone to facebook or on here because I didn't want some surprise at my house while he was gone. Plus he took the computer so we could still talk and see each other via Skype. Which, I just have to say, must be the best invention since the iphone.

It was pretty stressful without Josh here, but I kind of liked it. I (and my mom) was amazed at how clean I can keep the house when there isn't a man in it lol. It isn't that he is unusually messy, it's just that since I didn't have anything to do, I cleaned. He got done early though and he was home Thursday afternoon and I got to see him after I got off work.

Work is up and down. I love the work but the work is crazy. I really need to be full-time to handle the work load but he thinks he doesn't have enough cases to keep me busy. Well maybe he doesn't have enough cases for a full-time paralegal, but he does have enough traffic for a full-time paralegal/receptionist. Seriously, I can't get any work done for answering phone calls, greeting clients, going to the post office and bank, and chasing after faxes. And the bad thing is that he thinks 24 hours a week is a perfect amount of time to do all this and work on 10 cases at one time. He complains about how unorganized his last paralegal was, but I am slowly starting to understand why the files are such a mess. No one, no matter how much experience (which she had a lot of) could do everything he wants done in 24 hours a week. Other than that though, I love the work I'm doing. I just have to get over this mommy brain and start remembering more things so I can stop being scolded every day.

So since I don't work Fridays and Josh got back early last week, we had a long weekend. It was like a mini vacation, except we didn't go anywhere. Friday we went to the park with the girl and had dinner with his dad. Saturday we did our grocery shopping and Sunday we went to church, had lunch, and then went shopping for work clothes. That was a pain again. I went to NY and comp. and found 4 shirts. Then we went to Khol's and I found absolutely nothing in my size. Then we went to Steinmart and I had the same problem. All I wanted to get my a high waisted pencil skirt and some pantyhose and new underwear. I got none of that. I really wanted to go to my favorite store (White House Black Market), but we ran out of time and had to get back so we could feed Delores and get the girls to bed. It was very frustrating. Josh and I joke that we have the same problem at different extremes. I have to go to expensive specialty stores because I'm so small and so does he because he is such a big guy. Huff.

Lydia is doing okay. She is still struggling with allergies and she is reacting to the dairy I'm eating again. I started introducing it last week into my diet and this week she started showing signs that she was having a reaction to it. So I'm back on a no dairy, no coffee diet. =( Other than those two things she is doing good. She weighs about 12 pounds now. She is sleeping about 10 hours at night and still eating about every 3 hours during the day. She isn't napping very well during the day but I think it's just because she is adjusting to me not being here 3 days a week.

Delores is about as good as a wild 16 month old can be. She is very whiny and spoiled and is having a hard time adjusting to me being gone. She is very clingy now and very demanding. She is testing how much she can get away with when my mom is watching her and honestly I can see her temperment and behavior going downhill fast. I'm afraid she's going to learn that whining and throwing fits are ways to get what she wants. I feel like we are slowly starting to became canidates for the Supernanny show.

This weekend we have a busy schedule once again. I was determined to finish doing my shopping because it is so frustrating to have to keep going out just to be let down. So I went to my store and then to Victoria's Secret and then I was done. After that I pick up his dad's truck and to Wendy's to get my man a large Frosty as a thank you for watching the girls while I did my thing. After I got back we went to TR for my Grandma's 86th birthday party/ Mother's day celebration. Then we are taking the truck over to my papa's vacant house and get their deep freezer for my 1350 ounces (and growing) of frozen breast milk. Then back home to put the girls to bed. Tomorrow we have church an lunch and then Josh is taking me out to dinner for mother's day. I refuse to relive the same Mother's day I had last year. Which had to have been the worst day of that year.

Midnight and fig faced

So it's midnight and I'm up eating fig newtons like they are about to stop making them.

My neighbor's dog started barking off an on around 10 and really started picking up at 11:30. I had to wake poor Josh up to call our neighbor and see if he could put the dog up so she wouldn't wake the girls and I could get some sleep. At first I thought he was doing it to be spiteful because Ava got out today and terrorized the neighborhood. Turns out he wasn't even home. So I got up and came to watch some "Sex and the City," on my dvr till he get home and puts the dog up. Our bedroom window is right beside their backyard so I can't stay in the bedroom or I'd just get more and more frustrated with every bark.

So did you know I was an idiot? Apparently I had to go to work to see that. I don't even know where to begin. My boss is just one of those people you can't please no matter what you do. I do what he asks me to one day and then he complains because I did what he asked me to the next day. My confidence is dwindling and I'm afraid to speak to him because I'm tired of getting scolded for just doing what he asked me to do. I'm not a mind reader, you know? When I don't have confidence in myself my work goes to pot. I don't want to quit because I do like what I do and it is good experience and I need a good reference on my resume. But really, how long can I go on being talked to like I'm a kindergartner and keep a decent amount of good self esteem. Ugh. I guess I'm just going to have to develop some thick skin and throw it back at him.

Well the dog has stopped and that is all I have energy for tonight. Maybe I'll write tomorrow about my other daily adventures. We'll see. Goodnight