Cooking and the art of getting thin – we shall see.

Hello,

 

I know it has been quite a while since I have written anything and this is mainly because I had given up cooking for eating crap food.  I don’t mean just crap food but really just not putting the effort into feeding myself or my family food that is worth eating.

In an attempt to regain my waist line and live a few years longer; I have embarked on a “medically supervised” diet.  Along with this I realized that I may not be setting my kids up for the best nutritional future and that ultimately my general dislike of most healthy vegetables would not be the best example for them.

After a painful discussion with the boys we determined that the vegetable that we would start with would be cauliflower.  Just the white variety thank you, I think those baby purple ones are a bit creepy and relate blue and purple food with sweets.  My mother once made my dad a blue veal stew sometime before I was born:  people don’t like blue savory food in my opinion.  I believe the exception to this would be blue corn chips but even that seems off to me.

I just wanted to check in and let you know that I would be posting one or two posts a week, hopefully more healthy options and will try to include some product reviews and so on.

If I happen to have any readers left, I apologize for my extended absence.  I’ve missed this aspect of my life terribly so.

Coming soon:  Low carb yet extremely delicious pizza, Tom Yum Soup, and Heavenly Chocolate Chia Pudding ( Including a review by at least one of the kids)

Talk to you soon,

 

Jeffrey

We’re gonna have waffles for breakfast!

I finally managed to get a waffle iron into the house without my husband having a stroke!  I made cinnamon waffles for the boys for breakfast; I may never make another pancake again in my life.  It was so super easy, the waffle iron was $20 and the boys were happy.  No complaints there. 🙂

I bought the Oster DuraCeramic Waffle iron from Target for $19.99.  It worked perfectly and there was no drippy mess.  This thing is simple and easy to clean.  No fuss, no muss.  If you have been thinking about getting a waffle iron, so far this is a great deal for the price.

14678520_201309191732

Chocolate Pudding Cake

I got a new Crockpot for Christmas and wanted to try something new.  I sound this recipe online and thought it was cheap enough to try out.  It cost me about six dollars including the vanilla ice cream.  Everyone loved it.  It is like a soft lava cake had a love child with a brownie sundae.

A gooey version of chocolate pudding cake from the slow cooker.

Ingredients:

  • 1 package chocolate cake mix (any 2-layer size)
  • 2 cups sour cream
  • 1 pkg. instant chocolate pudding (any size) I used the whole bag because I bought the mini chips
  • 1 small bag (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips
  • 3/4 c. oil
  • 4 eggs
  • 1 c. water

Preparation:

Spray crockpot with non-stick spray. Mix all ingredients together. Cook on LOW for 6 to 8 hours Try not to lift the lid. Serve with ice cream
.Image

It isn’t so simple as it seems I thought it would be.

cinnamon jelly beans.

That is how it started today, really started.  Junior went into our bedroom without permission and stole some candy.  It obviously isn’t about candy.  Our kids don’t eat candy very regularly so had he ASKED for candy he could have had some.

I’m hurt and scared that he stole them.  I’m scared that this is not a phase he is going through and that it will lead to a life of crime.  It can be immensely difficult to break free from a life of drugs, alcohol, and other shady things.  I am deeply deeply afraid that my son is heading down that road.  He is almost 8.  I do not know if these are my own demons looking for a new home or if this is his own journey.

I have a past that I am not proud of.  I have changed in ways that I have never thought possible, but this isn’t my story today.

I am hurt because I would give my son anything I could to make him a well-rounded ,safe and happy boy.  Am i messing this whole parenting thing up?

We love how you parent…

The other day  I was lamenting “what am I doing wrong with this kid; I must be the worlds worst parent”  when the woman in charge of our sons before and after school program relayed to me that the group leaders along with herself relayed to me that the love how you parent the boys.

The truth is I am a hybrid parent.  I am usually very tough on the boys because the level of structure they need  equals the amount of plastic surgery done on Joan Rivers, Cher and Meg Ryan combined.  I love them, but TIm and I don’t let a whole lot slide.  Under that tough exterior I am part squishy teddy bear and part king of the jungle.  My sons can warm my heart in an instant, sincere or not, and though usually I am declaring that I will indeed handle this issue with them when we get home, I will disembowel, filet, dice into bits any person who gets out of line with either of my sons.

Just last week I learned that Junior was getting up and sneaking out of class to go on “adventures” without an adult during the school day.  First things first, I dealt with Junior and then after it kept happening for about a week I tore into the principal about why it was still happening.  It is a huge liability and safety issue to have a seven year old wandering the school grounds.  All the gates and doors are locked during the day I was assured (because seven year olds cannot climb fences ).  I had to actually ask to have his desk moved to a spot where the teacher can see him while she is teaching.  ROAR.

I get that this is unusual and that most teachers and schools are simply not trained or equipped to deal with a child that has this level of ADHD.

Bunkbeds

Putting kids to bed ON Christmas night has to be 1000 times harder than Christmas Eve. Neither one of them believes in the fat red man, except that I’m a fat red head..  Anyway getting these kids to bed last night was monstrous.  I literally had to text Tim who was downstairs for reinforcements.

For a while I let it go because they were in their laughing sounding silly.  they normally just bicker.  They sleep in bunk bed which save space but not parental sanity.

If I were to sell their bunk beds I would list them like this:

Black Metal Bunk beds for Sale

Sturdy, Black, Metal.  Ladder that no parent should have to climb while balancing a mattress on their head to put on a fitted sheet EVER, might inducing arguments about who is shaking the bed, may cause occupant of top bunk to complain that the other occupant is tickling their feet as they go down the ladder which “is hard enough without being tortured”  kids think everything is torture.  The top rail is sufficient to keep the occupant from falling off even when vomiting over the edge of it.   No head rail to prevent pillow loss for the bottom occupant.

Bickering adjacent, near a crabby dad.  Will relocate for grateful children.

I would like to remind these two boys that if these bunk beds aren’t good enough I would be happy to find them new ones…

Maricopa+County+Sheriff+Runs+Tent+City+Jail+7WCzW7mGod0l

Thank You Betty Crawford – Swedish Pancakes

Many years ago when I was in the 6th grade my family slept around.  Hahahahah  Actually we were sort of doing a weird commute from our lake house and in town staying at friends houses while our new house was being built. Many times we stayed at the home of Al and Betty Crawford, and yes everyone one got the “you can call me Betty and Betty when you call me you can call me Al….” reference., a wonderful woman and wonderful cook.

Betty taught me how to make three things I remember to this day; ice cream with my very own Donvier pint sized Ice cream maker, fried mush which I will let this blogger describe to you here:  Fried Mush, and Swedish Pancakes.

I haven’t yet make the boys fried mush because I do not think they will appreciate the seriousness of such a breakfast food, but who can say for sure; they DEVOUR the Swedish pancakes.

Here is the recipe:

4 eggs

1 cup of flour – Betty used to say a “scant cup of flour”

1 cup of milk

1/2 t of salt

1/2 t of sugar

in a frying pay melt a little butter and swirl some of this batter around.

They cook very fast, like a thick crepe, which is great because people eat them faster than you can cook them.  I once had two frying pans going at the same time which was, in hindsight, not the greatest idea.

They should look like these photos, which I stole from the internet; Google Image actually.  If they are yours email me so I can give you credit.

url images

It’s been a long time.

The trouble with long-term separations from people is that you have the illusion of knowing them, when if fact you only know how they were, not who they are.

As some of you know I have been largely estranged from my family for a long ling time.  I think I haven’t seen some of them for probably close to 19 years; longer than I knew them in the first place.

During that time there have been life events; weddings, the birth of children, the adoption of children, illnesses, funerals, divorces and achievements that have changed the very fabric of who we are all as human beings not to mention how we view the world and interact with others.  I do not know how to interact with some people from my past while others seem to be much clearer to me.

Tonight I asked someone something that I guess you shouldn’t ask people and no, it was not their salary. Because I figured I know this person, I felt comfortable asking them.  They were offended by my question.  I apologized and said Merry Christmas.  On one hand I feel sincerely bad that I managed to offend someone two days before Christmas and on the other hand I feel like I should walk on eggshells to be some perfect glowing light person.  If I offend someone in person I usually apologize on the spot and know what the person needs; space, a treat left on their desk, a hug etc.  I don’t know what this person needs in order to know I meant no harm.

I guess what I am saying is that even though the title of a certain relationship is still there doesn’t mean that the relationship, in the deeper sense, is still intact.  Kind of like diet ice cream; you can call it whatever you want; but it isn’t really ice cream.

I feel like I have one foot in one world and one in another.  I cannot pull them together to create one world.  Logically I know this to be true, but my heart doesn’t always accept this information as fact.

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas…

I don’t really.  I mean to say who wouldn’t want a hippo, or at least consider a pygmy hippo as an awesome Christmas gift?  I am not getting one, nor a sea lion nor a walrus nor any cute animal that Timothy keeps reminding me will poo and pee all over the house and eat up our savings and that we don’t have room for.  I sometimes wonder if we didn’t have kids if I would be allowed to have such animals because I like to keep my options open…

Every year Tim gets me a gift card for Christmas.  I like it, it allows me further ways to exert control in my own life.  Not this year folks.  Tim bought me actual presents.  I do not, not know what they are.  They are a surprise.  Mostly to you because I was there when I picked them out.  But you don’t know what they are unless you are the one person I told who shouldn’t tell anyone because I was informed that I wasn’t supposed to tell.  I was forgiven when I explained that I was too excited not to tell and that I was salivating over all three of them.    They are all really neat and hopefully one of them if not all three of them will influence this blog.  Maybe two of them but I am not sure how to incorporate all three in a safe and appropriate manner.

Xzavier was given his Christmas present phone back tonight and has been texting Tim and I non stop.  I like texting with my son.  When he texts me, he is my son.  When he pees in the toilet and doesn’t flush he obviously belongs to Tim.  Xzavier is an amazing kid.  He tries hard in school, feels genuine remorse usually right after he realizes and accepts that he hurt someones feelings and is obsessed with hotdogs lately.

Every year growing up my Mom bought us a new Christmas ornament.  I have continued that tradition although I have had to loosen my Nazi-esq grasp on all frosty blown glass ornaments to allow for Nerd Mickey Mouse – Tim 2013 and a fetus looking Spider Man – Junior 2013.  Xzavier chose a tasteful frosty blown glass hotdog ornament.  Again, a moment where he is my son.

Back to Christmas shopping.  Today was the only day in 4 years that I actually went Christmas shopping.  I usually have an exclusive relationship with Amazon.com.  I will pay the extra few dollars involved to have the gifts I want to give people lovingly  waiting at my front door when I get home each day.  It also allows me to buy myself a few things here and there without the dirty looks from my loving husband because I say “those are all for you so lose the look”  and then I scamper up the stairs to play with my new toy.

This year, several of the packages were not for anyone in my family; they were a family that some co-workers and myself adopted for the holiday.  We usually have a white elephant gift exchange where we all end of with some 15-20 dollar piece of crap gift that someone was probably re-gifting in the first place.  We all chipped in and made someone else’s wishes come true this year.  The only downside is that my guilt that there weren’t enough gifts magically had the ability to spread to other peoples kids as well.  We did our best.  Something is better than nothing when it comes to Christmas gifts, not herpes so I’ve heard, but it is a good philosophy for gifts.

Merry Christmas everyone.  I don’t have to say Happy holidays because it is my blog and I don’t have to be HR appropriate or PC.  I celebrate Christmas.  I live for stocking stuffers and hate wrapping paper.  This is my holiday mindset; pick out what you want and I will buy it.  I don’t need you to be surprised, I want you to be happy.

P.s.  If you need to get rid of your pygmy hippo, please ship it to me via Amazon and I will just tell Tim ” that one is for you so lose the look”  but like the moment when Xzavier picks an awesome ornament; the hippo will also be, just mine.

Image