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Cookie Killer

26 Sep

It’s official. I am incapable of making cookies. I endured another disheartening attempt this weekend – it was such a disaster that it prompted a “What is that?” from Nia and a fit of giggles from Andrew.

I don’t even know what I did wrong. I followed the recipe on the back of the Heath Toffee Bits bag. I did everything it said to make Oatmeal Toffee Cookies. The batter was yum and the kids and I enjoyed stealing swipes off the mixer. I was feeling good at this point.

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It all looked, smelled and tasted promising during these stages.

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But then … “They look like pancakes!” Andrew said as he lovingly laughed and gave me a hug.
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From there – it got worse. This mound below prompted Nia to review, “It kinda looks like chicken.”
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Glob and milk anyone? Anyone?
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Despite their appearance, the bits actually still taste pretty good. Since I hated to waste my noncookie creation, we’ve decided to mix the globs with scoops of vanilla ice cream. Out of disaster, comes new dessert.

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Hollywood on Booker Hill

25 Sep

I’ve seen quite a few interesting things while growing up in my childhood neighborhood in Weirton, West Virginia. There was the time someone stole a roll of our old carpet off our back porch. Two other times, some high school boys thought it would be hilarious to build anatomically correct snowmen on our front steps. Another time, my friend and I thought it would fun to tie blankets together to climb out of my second story bedroom window – you know, like they do in the movies.

Well, now the movies are in my backyard but I’m sadly not there to see it. I’m living through Facebook pictures, news stories and the detailed descriptions from my mom.

I can see my bedroom window in this picture! It's above the crane. (Photo courtesy: http://www.super8news.com)

She and the neighbors we’ve lived next to since before I was born are now outsiders in the middle of movie making. It’s a J.J. Abrams and Steven Spielberg movie called Super 8 and it’s unreal. Although the neighbors are excited about the opportunity, they’re having to adjust to the change in their day-to-day lives – having to park blocks away and walk, people and movie props (tanks!) all over the place, movie people using my mom’s planters as a garbage can (they cleaned it up) and the security guard who shined his light in her face as she walked to her house. (He said, “I’m the security guard.” She replied, “I’m the neighbor.”) Our one neighbor was also getting a little uneasy about how they kept wanting to use more rooms of her house. They had already gutted the living and dining rooms of all their current possessions to transform it with 70’s style decor – then they added the kitchen, a bedroom and the garage to the movie set. My mom also keeps saying, “I can’t believe how many people they need to make a movie!” Still, it’s hard to complain about something so incredible and they are all anxious to see what it will look like on the big screen.

It’s not just my neighborhood that’s hosting Hollywood either. Many areas throughout the city are feeling the effects of movie magic and – from what it seems – many people are loving it. Here are just a few of the news articles and scoop stories talking about the experience:

I just hope it all turns out to be a great thing for Wild, Wonderful, (Weirton) West Virginia. The city has had its hardships (terrible flooding and a huge hit to the steel mill) and some of the scenery has changed (a “Cafe and More” with video gambling in it on almost every corner) and this movie seems to be a boost for the city. I love my hometown, always have. I would probably still live there if another love (hubs) didn’t have to listen to the Army and move to another state. Funny how we chose a town that reminds us of Weirton, only with a southern spin on it.

Good luck, Weirton! I hope Hollywood is kind to you.

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Well, I didn’t collapse so that’s good

16 Sep

What do you call a person who participates in a three mile run/walk without weeks, days or even minutes of exercise prep and gets less than three hours of sleep the night before the race?

I must be crazy. I made it though (along with thousands of others who filled downtown Atlanta streets) and I don’t really hate my time. (45:30 or about fifteen minutes per mile.) Other than that here are some additional observations/experiences from my second attempt at a 5K.

  • I didn’t dare to stop to tie my shoelaces. I was afraid that if I stopped for even just a few seconds, I wouldn’t be able to start again. I also thought about how tripping would slow me down as well but I justified that by telling myself my chances of tripping were slim. I would face-plant due to exhaustion before shoelaces.
  • I was double-fisting at the fitness event. I started carrying a water bottle and a sports drink bottle. I ended up throwing both half-full bottles in the garbage.
  • People seemed to walk faster for the free t-shirt at the end of the race then during the race.
  • Both older and younger walkers crushed my time. One example that stands out in my mind involves an elementary schooler who held hands with her mother as they walked and crossed the finish line. (It was really sweet.)
  • I’m going to hurt in the morning. Wait, scratch that. I’m hurting now.
  • I didn’t know you could get blisters in between your toes.
  • The smells of food cooking, something burning and the sewer are never great during a race like this.
  • There were boxes and boxes o f bananas. I also saw a few whole nanas on the ground. The event was flooded with the yellow-green fruit.
  • Walking is hard.

I’ve decided my next race will include some prep work. I want to make an improvement on my time and, more importantly, reduce my body aches.

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Daddy Do All

12 Sep

It’s a quote I’ll never forget. Our young neighbors said with a smile, “Mr. Andrew’s always trying to help somebody.” They couldn’t be more right and I hope they and our children will someday try to do the same thing.

Whether it’s killing a bug for me, running through the house and down a flight of steps to catch a screaming Nate hanging from the monkey bars, taking my car to get gas in the middle of leisure time, carrying all the groceries upstairs in one trip after he did the shopping because I didn’t feel like it, cooking dinner for us or fixing my car – I could never thank Andrew enough for all the ways he helps us and makes us feel protected and loved.

Like the kids said, he even makes every effort to help others. When it snowed here and our neighbors got stuck, Andrew ran up the hill with carpet pieces to throw under their tires. He’s given other neighbors a lift when they needed to go to the store, cut their grass, pushed a stranger’s stalled car off of a busy street, handed other strangers in the checkout line money when he saw they were short on cash and – one of my favorite kind acts – is that he never takes the closest parking spot because he says someone else who needs it more should have it.

Yes. I am totally bragging and it’s not the first time. Last year, I told the tale of the Knight in Starched Khakis and how he helped a stranded family in need. I can’t help but brag. I really love my friend. He’s a good influence and I wish others were as considerate as he is.

Just today he did two more things that compelled me to collect all these positives. He played ball with Nate while sitting on the couch still watching football and enjoying his adult beverage. Why is this nice to me? Because I appreciate that he still participates with us even when he really wants to watch his Denver Broncos for a few minutes.

Today, he also jumped in front of a hit baseball to keep it from hitting our pregnant friend in the stomach. The ball was coming pretty fast and left a mark on his arm so we are so thankful he blocked it. Despite the save, he was still upset with himself for not actually catching it. (The picture below doesn’t really capture it but you can kind of see the stitches from the ball.)

Andrew, I’m so grateful and inspired because you always try to help everyone. I just hope we’ll be there when you need it.

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A Jug Tavern Festival is Just Right for Kids

11 Sep

It just sounds so wrong though. How could it be ok to take a seven and four-year-old to an event bearing such a name? Well, consider it one of those don’t judge a book lessons. Apparently, the name has nothing to do with alcohol or slang for female parts.

Fest Flying


Even so, I didn’t really care. It was a community shindig and we dig those. This one offered all the usuals – some bouncy things, pony rides, balloon animals (that popped before Nate got his to the car), shaved ice (that made a sticky mess when it spilled in the car), funnel cake, live music, overpriced but “awesome” kid entertainment (the kids loved flying high in the air), arts and crafts and tasty BBQ. That BBQ is what makes this festival a little different than those usuals though.

People from all over have set up fort here for a National BBQ Cook-Off. They’ve parked their suped-up RVs on the grounds, complete with satellite dishes sticking out of five-gallon buckets. The scenes surrounding the RVs were impressive. Some had TVs displaying a football game and others had tables and portable kitchens where older men prepped their pride and joy for the competition. All of them had massive smokers, pits and grills filled with various meat soaking in a secret sauce or dry rub. The smell of deliciousness hovered over the festival, making stomachs growl, mouths water and Nia and Nate worry about all the smoke. “Mommy! That smoke cloud is coming right to us!”

Seems kid-friendly enough for me.

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Surf, Sting, Sleepover and Some Other Super Stuff

6 Sep

Surf

Our recent trip to the beach showed us our children view the whole surf and sand experience very differently. We couldn’t get Nia out of the water and it took forever for Nate to finally get into the water. (Or even close to it.) Nate didn’t even want the “mud” on him.  (That’s what he called wet sand.)

Instead, for a large chunk of three days, he worked up the nerve to run lightning quick in the shallowest of water, cried some, chased and fed birds, built a few castles, played his video game and then, eventually – toward the end of our time – tackled and conquered his fear of the water.

Beach Beauty

Beached Boy

Cool Wave Rider

Brave, Unbeached Boy

Sting

As the pictures above show, our beach beauty couldn’t get enough of the waves. Even a nasty jellyfish sting didn’t keep her sidelined for long. A lifeguard saw Andrew carrying her as though something was wrong and gave us some “Jellyfish Squish” spray. The sting beached her for a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and that’s about it. She went right back in the water and acted like we were making too big of a fuss out of it.

Sweets Gets Stung

Chocolate Makes It All Better

Sleepover

This adventure marked the first time Nia and Nate shared a room. It featured two twin beds and a television that was almost as big of a deal as the beach. (They don’t have tv’s in their rooms.) The first night was a bit of a challenge for all of us. We let them watch some tv but then after that we heard quite a bit of commotion and then Nate came crying out of the room. When all the drama was calm, he informed us he had been building a “bridge” from his bed to Nia’s bed when he slipped and hurt himself on the bed. It’s all fun and games until …

Nate's Bed Bridge

Some Other Super Stuff

This beach trip also offered some great quality time with friends and a first for Nate.

We had such a wonderful time visiting with the Heidel family, who sacrificed their college’s opening weekend football game to spend Saturday at the beach with us. (Did I mention they are great friends?)

Snacks are better with buds at the beach.

After a day at the beach, we enjoyed dinner, drinks and caught a few innings of the Savannah Sand Gnats’ game. This is where Nate’s first comes in. He’s never seen a professional fireworks show before. This weekend though, he experienced two of them. One after the Gnats’ game and the other while sitting on the beach in celebration of the Labor Day weekend.

Enjoying the Fireworks

Nia also got a very special treat. One of her bestest buds ever, Miss Avery, visited us. Nia and Avery were basically born to be friends. Exactly a month apart, they were side by side crib mates at daycare and became inseparable until we moved away. The time and miles apart have not hurt their friendship at all. They picked up right where they left off and immediately began playing pretend “iCarly” while hitting the waves.

Reunited Friends

Our mini-vacation to the beach was so nice and memorable, Andrew was already, seriously, asking when we could go back. Nate, on the other hand, was ready to head home. Nia was just fine whatever we decided (as long as she’s getting a souvenir or two). Me? Well, I’m happy just making memories with them – even if one of them involves a jellyfish.

Happy Beach Fam

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Better Than Turbo Jets

29 Aug

What happens when you take 100% polyester shorts and put them on an incredibly intense four-year-old? You get speed you would not expect to come from such a small body. (Go to about :30 in to see him take off.)

Nate dubs them his “fast pants” because he believes they help him run faster. He wants to wear them everywhere. We’ve even planned for it – buying one pair for almost every day of the week –

Assortment of Fast Pants

I tell him his shorts aren’t what makes him fast but he won’t hear it. Probably because he doesn’t stand still long enough for me to explain it to him.

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A fart fan that clears the air and scares the crap out of you.

7 Aug

It’s a big title for a blog but it’s so accurate I couldn’t help it. Here’s why: we recently discovered that one of the bathroom fart fans in our home had become the home of many wasps.

I only realized this after several times of cleaning up small black specs from the toilet lid.

I thought, what is this? It’s not poop. Where is it coming from?

Look up.

Fart fan.

Insect legs peeking through the vent.

Gasp.

Yell for Andrew who just thinks I’m just freaking out over bugs as usual.

He takes a closer look and then squints his eyes and shockingly states, “Those are wasps.”

He taps the vent and then jerks back when a “buzz, buzz” sounds from inside the fan.

The discovery and his seriousness immediately prompts my-oh-my-gosh-it’s-so-gross bug dance.

He instructs me to turn on the fan and shut the door.

He then climbs 20 feet up, armed with a flashlight in his mouth and a can a wasp killer in his hand. (It was 9:30 pm.) The rest is picture history.

Here is the aftermath from inside our house:

Here is the view from the scene of eviction and aftermath from the outside:

I still can’t help but feel bad about the ones we killed. Then again, they could have hurt the kids and they weren’t paying rent.

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Unclean House Confessions

28 Feb

I try. I do. I really would not say our house is messy/dirty. There are places where mess accumulates but with that I just have to shut a few doors and – tada – the house is ready for a surprise visitor. There are quite a few things I slack on though.

  • I should definitely scour our shower more than I do. In fact, I really don’t do it. Andrew does it because I whine about it so much. I’ll clean all the bathtubs – no problem. There’s just something about our shower that defeats me every time.
  • I have never cleaned inside the oven. I will only dive in there when it’s an absolute must. Like when that runaway fry escapes from the pan and starts burning and junk. Then, I’ll just use some tongs and remove the blackened tato.
  • I can’t tell you when I last dusted the light fixture hanging above the dining room table that we never use. Come to think of it, that light really never gets used either.
  • Are you supposed to wash curtains? Just kidding. Ha, ha, ha. Well, I have washed the sheers on the windows – at least once. (By the way, is there an easier way to clean wood slat blinds? I’ve tried dusting them – that takes forever. I’ve tried using the vacuum attachment – that didn’t really work at all. I can’t figure that one out.)

I just feel like I can never get ahead of it all. I have to do all the basics in spells – here and there. If I see dust, I dust. Since I have the dust spray in my hand, I might as well do the upstairs. (I tell myself I’ll do the downstairs later.)  If I have the glass cleaner out to clean one mirror that’s bothering me, they’re all going to get cleaned right then and there. It just all feels so scattered. The only time it all gets cleaned at the same time is when guests come to stay. Thankfully, we have guests visiting quite a bit.

(*This post was inspired by that runaway fry.)

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Big Plans

18 Feb

I’ve reached a point where I’m finding myself comparing what I’ve accomplished in my life to what others have accomplished. It’s not a jealousy or an “I wish I did that” kind of thing. It’s more a – there’s so much I still want to do – thing. I’m also not saying I’m not proud or happy with all that I have attempted, failed at, conquered, laughed at, attempted again – I just have a small list of wants and it goes a little something like this:

  • I want to learn Italian. Andrew does too. I have one rule after we learn it though – we are never – never – allowed to argue in Italian. Man, I remember my Grandma and Grandpa’s Italian-only arguments. I never knew what they were saying but their complicated-sounding words were always laced with such fire – such anger. It scared me beyond belief. I want this language to only be used to communicate sweet nothings or compliments on a meal or excitement over sports or other such happiness.
  • Once we’re comfortable with our Italian and the kiddos are older, a trip to Italy will happen. We will visit all the areas our grandparents came from and all the romantic places I’ve read about in books or caught glimpses of in movies.
  • There will be a book. I can’t promise it will be an awesome book – or even a good book – but it will be written by me. Even if I have to pay to have it published, one of the many ideas I’ve started will eventually become something I can hold in my hands and say, “I wrote this book. Cool.”
  • We will take the kids to Disney World where they will lose their minds in Princess, Spiderman, Peter Pan and other animated character craziness.
  • I will sing Karaoke. In front of people. At least once.
  • I will learn how to dance a sexy dance like Salsa or Tango and I will not feel like a total doof and laugh the entire time. I will feel incredibly sexy, womanly and confident.
  • Andrew and I will live to our 50th wedding anniversary – plus some. I know, I know. I really can’t control this one. It could happen though … it could.

I know I have more wants but I think this is a good place to start. Will I be happy if none of these ever happen? Sure. (Well, except for the last one that is.) After all, these are all wants – not needs. A girl can dream, right?
 

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