Friday, December 28, 2012

Sup dudes!

I'm really trying to do my best to not starting this post with, "welp, it's been a while!" Whatevs, it has. Much has happened but there's no time to talk about that. I used to be obsessed with trying to get a post up. Now, I'm obsessed with online communities that make me coffee money (with the end goal of being a part of Amazon Vine...they owe it to me.) and taking crappy cell phone pics. 

To be honest, I'm even slacking on the latter. I just wrapped up a motley crew of a dinner- this and that from Trader Joes and a BANGIN' cayenne chicken burger that I topped with cranberry sauce and mayo- try that ish, it's real good.

Yesterday was a break-through day for Mr. Roseph. He drank from a straw, rolled from belly to sitting and is all over trying to play with his big brother at the train table. We also are killing it on Just Dance 3 and that Wii Grover game. I love this week- after we get home from Christmas night, I get to stay the heck home and play with my kiddos. Lots of mommy time. 

Todd pointed out that on the days that he's had to work (Wednesday and today) that they slept until 830 or 915. On the days he's been here, 615 and 710. Score one for mommy. 

So I've had a long day on my iPhone between nap times so my hands are about to cramp up. I'mma get ready to nurse Roseph to sleep and scour ebay for some sherpa ponchos and buffalo check flannels. They're on my hot-girl must have list for the month. 

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Salted Carmel Hot Chocolate

me on my couch.

Sup dudes!

It's that time of year when I get to sit outside in the FAAAAA-REEZING cold to watch field hockey. My bones are CALLING for warm drinks. Although I don't generally like to drink my calories, I really wanted a hot chocolate and although Dunk-a-chinos are good, I had all the ingredients so I made the real deal.

Ya need:

3/4ish cup sugar
1/2 stick butter
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 cup cocoa
3ish cups milk

Immersion blender.

1. melt butter in pot.
2. whisk in sugar and salt until that ish carmelizes. mine started to get clumpy a little- so I quick threw in the vanilla- stuff sizzled like fajita plates at the Ground Round! 
3. dump in cocoa. This turned it into almost try and salvage the chocolate soup, I poured in the milk and hit it all with my immersion blender. it frothed right up.
4. pour into cups.

Monday, September 10, 2012

No one likes a stick in the mud.

Not even me. Seriously. I've had a looooong weekend filled with work, trips to the ER that I should've been at, more work and mommy guilt.

Saturday games are not new- I was headed with the team (who is hanging on my a thread physically...) and about ten minutes away I got a call from TBone that BB fell down some steps at the Arboretum. GET THEE TO THE HOSPITAL!! TBone called the peeds office who shooed him off the ER- and even though it's out of the way for us, CHOP is the only place we take our birds.

So there I was, coaching a team who was trying, God love them, but not doing well on a grass field (we're turf princesses), against my college's coach's team...and my husband and sons were in the ER. I got home by 4pm (the fall happened around 10am) and everything was in order and the prescriptions were gotten for acetaminophen for little dudes.

I still felt like a shit. I reneged on a shower invite to a good buddy because of the mommy guilt- which made me feel like a friend shit- and we went back to the scene of the crime (I think since Todd filled out an incident report we're members for life, btw) to check out the tree houses. They were cool.

We went to some stores then I had to be at work for a department dinner and mass...and then two people who I've worked with for six years (and have known for longer) said something that I'm sensitive to...but in reality, wasn't that bad. Since I've got a case of the 'poor mes' it made me cry....working mom blues.

Can someone please, please, please, just hit the lottery and give me a healthy slice?

Monday, September 3, 2012

Why is Limp Bizkit stuck in my head?

Keep rollin', rollin', rollin'.

I'm writing now instead of reading. Just about every second of my time is accounted for from now until Thanksgiving and finding time for me is going to be a challenge. Right now, I should be grading the three completed assignments I have in my inbox. I have a case of the monkey mind and trying to quiet it is a little more important.

I'm on a bus. A cold one. Planning in these next three months is paramount. Example- I didn't realized I'm making more milk than Royal is drinking- not a bad problem to have...except, he's not on the bus with me and I only have one eight ounce bottle to pump into until I get home in seven hours. He's ahead with Todd and Maksim. I'm a smart lady. With advanced collegiate degrees. I can figure this out, right? So the planning wasn't great for this weekend.

Todd is awesome. Supportive and easy going. My schedule is so much better than it used to be but still not easy. A little slip up like not having enough bottles equals either pouring GOOD BREAST MILK OUT!!!! or putting it in a water bottle that I just drank. I know, I know. First world problem.

Whenever I'm in season, I'm haunted/motivated by what was said to me seven years ago when I was hired to be a coach, "Honey, I don't know if you're cut out to be a coach." Super. So, yesterday we had a tough one (after a SPECTACULAR game and heartbreaking loss the day before) and the girls are asleep behind me. They're good sports and so far I'm encouraged by their collective spirit. Now it's my job to keep them moving in the right direction. (googling/amazoning how to recover faster.) We don't have a ton of subs. I lost six would-be retuners to transfers or injuries or otherwise so what would've been 24 is 18. A HUGE difference in the field hockey world. How do you teach college kids to not let youth be wasted on the young?

I've practice yoga once since Thursday- and for a few minutes in the hotel room yesterday when Todd took Maks to the pool at 8AM (oh, to be a toddler) so I'm feeling sore and tight. Could be why my monkey mind is acting up. The competitor in me is a little pissed that I wasn't able to complete the 30 day yoga challenge I committed to for 8/1-30- but I did start on 7/30- made it 8/22 and then preseason field hockey with two a days got in the way. Mamma tired. I was motivated by Kurt's encouragement that taking an hour for yourself each day for meditation and exercise is just under 5% of the day. Todd reminded me that number is skewed and doesn't account for the sleeping hours. Whatever. 6%.

So there we have it. My toes are cold, my milk ducts are swelling and my Starbucks is empty. Time to head to the bathroom in the bus and make a bottle. Lord knows I'll have a record producing milk day and need to do some problem solving or, God forbid, dump some out. Any nursing mother out there knows how this would not be an option.

Happy Labor Day y'all. I've been working 24/7 since Friday at 7am. Is that ironic? Or coincidental? Those of you who have them, enjoy your eight hour work days and vacation and thank the unions that make that work for you (if it does.)

This works for me. Busy, busy. Then chill, chill.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

(Not) Yer Grandma's Skirt Suit.

Look at that! I'm two for two! So I scored a skirt suit from the thrift store the other day- please see huurrrrr for the original post from yesterdee

Here's the basic jist- except pattern on the top AND bottom.

I tried every which way to make the top work, too. But every time...I felt I looked like a really shitty version of this (and not in a good way):

So I just turned the skirt...into a dress. And what's that? CINCHED THE WAIST. I love cinching waists- it's the easiest way for a no sew upcycle. Cheers. 

I felt like I was really being a little silly with these pictures so I took some serious liberties with color editing. If you think I'm being ridiculous, you're right. I am. But I'm having fun so go scratch!

PS- I miss myspace blogs where you get to write what you're listening to- I'm bangin' out to Skrillex right now. It's fun. 

EEK! Skirt!

plus one belt and sweater. 

some shotty photography.

minus the jacket. 

plus the mirror. 

Thar she blows!

note: these photos were taken on my lil' lunch break at work. I like tiles. 

Monday, July 23, 2012

Wearing a Nightgown at Work Today.

And what?

I was super inspired by this chick a few weeks back- she upcycled 366 pieces- one each day- of thrift store crap into cute, wearable gear. Pretty impressive. It helps a little that she appears to be petite with a good figure so a medium men's shirt already looks fantastic. Good on ya, sister- keep up the awesome work.

So what did I do? I quite possibly, had the best thirft store score of MY ENTIRE LIFE this past Friday. I was waiting around really late at work so I took a later, longer lunch and hollared at a local Goodwill. Since I'm 5'9" and fluctuating between a buck fifty and sixty any given day, I don't look quite so cute in a potato sack that I sewed darts into. So...I improvised and am fugging THRILLED at my come-ups.

I'll draw this out all week (or who am I kidding, I might only be able to get up one a week) since I can't seem to get around to blogging.

First, I went to the jammies section of the GW. I found two of the very same item- both with tags. I don't need two beeee-you-tiful dresses, so I picked out this green one.

Pro-tip: I started in the jammie section because PJs are $2.49 at the boutique as opposed to $4.99 for dresses.

...two bathroom choices for your viewing pleasure. Waist cinched with American Apparel's Sash- $4 on Amazon.

Light green, lined, embroidery at the top. I like to call it Grandma chic. 

My boss told me I looked very nice today. I said thanks on the outside and cracked up on the inside. I'm wearing PJs. With heels.

And note to reader: there were three college boys lounging downstairs in a little student area where I ducked in to take this picture in a locker room off the beaten path. I bet they TOTALLY thought I was going in there to take a smash. HA! If they only knew. 

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Monday, July 2, 2012

Monday Photo DUMP!

Such a busy past few weeks.

Visited some internets buddies IRL.

Went to Dallas.

Missed our flights.

Did some arts and craps...and started sewing again. I like to make things.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

What's mine is yours.

When I had Maksim, the most challenging thing for me was maintaining my own identity. I didn't what to be just Maksim's mom. A few years later, I'm not as worried about that. 

As a mother of a two year old, you start to clearly understand the idea of tantrums and possessiveness. For a two year old, it's not bratty, it's not mean, they just want what they want. That's fine too (as a bratty adult, it's hard to remember sometimes.) BTW, awesome and funny read about self-help from a two year old. 

I make bribes with Maksim all the time. I don't use food, I don't use toys, I use mommy's special things. 

If Maksim doesn't want to lay down for a nap, I ask if he wants to use Mommy's special scarf as a blanket. 

If Maksim doesn't want to take a bath or shower, I ask if he wants to use Mommy's special powder after he's done...and we just cannot use it until after bath time. (I'm really trying to mimic my toddler voice with it working?)

If Maksim doesn't want to eat his dinner, I ask if he wants Mommy's special chicken.

Whatever I need/want him to do, I can usually entice him with something special. And what makes that thing special? My invisible magic Mommy wand. He's going to catch on at one point that nothing, is in fact, that special BUT hopefully he'll still remember that I helped make him feel special and safe with a little trinket here or there. 

Of course, I'm a little peeved that he's decided to make Mommy's special scarf his blankie. But, I can't blame him. It's pretty special. 

Fun mom tip of the day that my friend/family/on lookers might not agree with? I like to wear Lush's glitter bar. I smear it all over my face, arms and chest. By the end of the day, if the boys aren't covered in it, I get upset...because it means I haven't touched and hugged them enough. It's mommy's special glitter. 

Maksim dressed up like a ghost in my scarf. 

Roy (front) and Maks asleep after Ava's birthday party. Blankie on lap. 

Thursday, May 31, 2012

I am the 1%!

Noooooooo, not that kind, silly! I'm not rich. BUT, I am the 1%. Many of my friends are too with bloggies like this or this

Go ahead. Go read this for an explanation. 

Are you the 1% too? What about the 10%? How's about that other 90%?

You know who you are, lurkers. I see you come here to my little blog here. You Google things like "male moose knuckle" or "spaghetti fanny pack." I'm not judging. Whatever gets you here. 

But I know you're here...lurking. 

And I'm okay being the 1%. I like to create. After all, I AM an arteeeest. 

Please don't think a day passes when I don't look at the eleventh post I've made for the day on the facebooks or the reddits and I think...who's going to care about this? Are people going to unfriend me? Block me? TALK ABOUT BE BEHIND MY BACK?

The answers: no one. yes. yes. and YES. 

And that's totally ok. I over share. I do. I know it. 

and I wish you would too. 

Here are some pictures of my sweet, sweet boys and such. 

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

See you in church!

I HAD to get a post up just for the sake of posting. I'm tired of looking at shitty peanut butter kandy kakes that I screwed up because "I'm an artist."


1. I'm back at work. blerg.

2. I'm selling stuff on ebay and it's both fun and not fun. Surprising to see how much people will pay for weird stuff. Annoying to see people's habits of paying or not paying for an item they bought. I didn't realize people didn't pay for things they bid on and won. Assholes.

3. I feel like and think I look pretty good! This is 100% attributed to babies who sleep very well. I work out every night after Royal falls asleep in my arms. I put him on the floor next to me in his boppy and hollar at either Kurt Johnsen or Sadie Nardini on the Veria cable jawn. Don't tell they boys I told you that they sleep well, though. If I know anything about being a mom...once we start patting ourselves on the back all hell breaks loose and someone pees on your heels. No lie- it happened to me today.

4. My hair SUCKS. Totally sucks. I was no-pooing for a bit and that looked nice and then got a color job and it really sucks. Fortunately I've been taking biotin so I have not been suffering from postpartum alopecia just yet...but it's just crappy. Crap, stringy waves on the top, sweat on my brow- the kiss of death in the bangs world...and, I've been asked to be my sister's matron of honor and I'm pretending that she said I can't cut my hair for her wedding. But what I really what to do is this:

but I want it to look like this (waves, not color):

5. Going to HOTlanta for work this weekend. Roy boy gets his first plane ride. 

6. That's about it. I guess. Just needed to break the blogging seal. 

Friday, April 27, 2012

I prefer being called an artist.

...but my kindergarden teacher would likely say I have difficulty following directions.

Note: I'm typing from my phone using the Swype feature. Any bizarre word choices are courtesy of my little buddy.

My homie Shannon rose to local fame this week when the official Tasty  Kake Facebook page posted her recipe for their very delicious and locally famous treat.

I la la la love Kandy Kakes and had all of the ingredients on hand so I gave it a whirl.

I'm a pretty decent cook- I like to play in the kitchen and put things together to see if they work. This week's obsession is baby arugala and blue cheese dressing.

I don't care for Rachel Ray but I finally get why she calls herself a cook and does NOT like baking; baking requires following directions where cooking allows for quite a but of improvisation. And my kitchen ADD loves that about cooking. My kitchen ego gets stroked and I serve my family a delicious, original creation similar to the likes of the folks on Chopped who only have a basket of food found in a gas station to work with (or something like that.)

But baking? The spirit who resides over the kitchen- a woman scorned- and demands all who enter heed her meticulous instructions lest cooks everywhere end up with a pie that's too sweet or a cake that won't rise...

So the bright idea I had? Subbing the four eggs with the equivalent of four egg whites.

Completely unnecessary. And although it wasn't terrible, just not awesome.

And a motto I surely follow: life is too short to eat mediocre desserts.

The peanut butter and chocolate tasted like the faned kakes. (I used white. It was what I had on hand.)  The actual kake part...extra sweet and damp. Not moist...but damp like a rum-soaked cake. Meh.

Life lesson? Until you have basic truths figured out in your baking kitchen (ie subbing baking soda for powder? Don't add additional salt, etc.), listen to the kitchen witch.

Notes about pics: 

1. I LOVE warm peanut butter.

2. Iced.

3. Mamma tried.

4. Cutting chocolate is funny. Fortunately boys don't care what they eat most days. Hunger is the best spice.

Mental Picture

I've found mental pictures don't last long. What did I do before my cell phone?

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Mommy the grooming monkey.

When I first meet Todd he lived in an awesome apartment in Society Hill. It was a huge two bedroom that he shared with an acquaintance (the very best kind of roommate) and it was $800 a month split between them. The owner of the building was an older lady who lived outside of the city. Her only request was that tenants send a little life update with the rent check. Although she was glad Todd "met a girl," she would miss his letters.

Also living in the building was her aging son.

I saw him regularly in coming and going or while he would shuffle down the steps or hall or wait on the stoop for a ride. When I saw him coming I would provide a slightly larger buffer between he and me comparative to the space one might provide a blind person as they pass in a narrow hallway.

He was what Todd refers to as "off": the blanket term he uses to describe someone who has enough tools in the shed to live on their own, but not the kind of mental acuity to maintain the tasks that society at large would consider normal. He was the kind of guy who would qualify to live in a group home but since the rent was so low tenants jumped at the chance to live in the brownstone in the sought-after neighborhood if they agreed to look after him.

The extra hallway space was necessary. This man had the absolute very worst psoriasis I've ever seen in my entire life. The kind of stuff only Hollywood makeup artists could dream up. He looked like an older version of Charles Schultz's Pig Pen except instead of dirt, he was surrounded by a cloud of dry, flaky, deeeescusting skin.

Enter the fickle skin of a newborn. Roy so far has had a tough shake in the skin department. His baby acne was so bad his puffy little chipmunk cheeks were opening and then scabbing. And his little receding hairline was something only his mother noticed and quietly wept over. This past weekend, I was reminded of our friend from the city when I saw the patchy, scaly noggin of my RoJo. I had to figure this out.

I was seeing a trend on my guy's dome that products used tended to produce more buildup than yield results. I dug around Mommy boards and blogs and the unanimous suggestion was fewer products and a natural oil combed through. Many suggested Chasymn and although I love me the smell of baptism I opted for the extra virgin olive oil I have on hand.

My Mommy grooming monkey thirst was quenched big time. I got to bathe my dude, towel him off, dipe him up, and then spend nearly an hour rubbing oil on his head and combing out the dry and dead cells. It was deeeeeeacusting and AWESOME. And now, his head looks so nice.

His little head looks like the fuzzy peach it should resemble and not some weepy, gerrrr-oss flaky mess.

Hallelujah hollar back.

Please Touch today with mom-mom and my birds.

tl;dr: Royal's head is deeeescusting. I fixed it with no shampoo, olive oil and a fine toothed comb.