Hey, kids, gather 'round! It's Friday Follow-Up time!
As you can see, I'm in a weird mood. It's been a weird week. I got some unexpected feedback after writing about my inability to accept that life isn't fair. I thought I came off as a nutjob, obsessing about free pancakes and peewee football players, but I actually received quite a bit of support from all of you. Enablers!
I'm still waiting for my cookbooks to arrive. I ordered them all from different vendors through Amazon, so each book will arrive in a separate box, on a separate day. I'm so excited - next week will be like Hanukkah! (I've always envied Hanukkah...) I love having a project that doesn't involve any actual work. First, I'll put the books in order on the coffee table in the family room. Then, I'll grab my little Staples organizer that's filled with different colored flags and Post-Its. And with feet up on the couch and garbage TV on (Hi, Melrose Place 2.0!), I will pore through each book, marking every recipe that looks bland and uncomplicated enough with flags, following an as-yet-to-be-determined recipe organizing system. Then, I'll add the keepers to my Better Homes and Gardens Recipe Organizer Binder. I suppose at some point I should add another phase to my project: Cooking The Meals. But that's a ways off - I can't just start cooking recipes randomly! Must organize first. And lord knows how long that will take...
Oh, and speaking of my cookbook post, I got a comment that used an abbreviation: FTW. I had NO IDEA what that meant, and couldn't get it from the context of the comment, the way I might translate an unfamiliar word while reading a novel. Embarrassingly, I had to Google it. Turns out that it was a complimentary bunch of letters, meaning "for the win." What you're supposed to do is write something that's good or that you liked and then add FTW to the end. So Noodle Mom could message me something like, "You made boxed spaghetti for dinner tonight? Huh. I made spinach ravioli with homemade marinara. And hand-churned ice cream with berries FTW."
And finally, I want to let you know that Mad is still out of school, thanks to that party guest who won't take the hint that it's time to go home, Mystery Fever. We're heading to the pediatrician's office in about 10 minutes to see WTF is causing her to have a fever for three days. (See? I do know some acronyms all on my own!) She seems to be doing better today, which is great, but man, is it weird having a kid around the house during a time when you're not supposed to have a kid around the house. Even Nathan has these little programs that he goes to during the day, so I had been used to not having to answer to anyone for at least an hour on most days.
Talk to you Monday!
Kelley
P.S. I craffed yesterday. For like an hour. I'm not telling you why, but thought you'd like to know that yes, I really do Craff Out Loud.
Showing posts with label Noodle Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Noodle Mom. Show all posts
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
How I spent $50 on Amazon.com
I did this very grown-up thing the other day: I used my $50 Amazon birthday gift card to buy a bunch of cookbooks.
Yup, cookbooks. I haven't even told Jason yet - he'll go into hysterics when I tell him. And then he'll suggest some things I should have bought instead, things I'd actually use. You see, I am not a natural in the kitchen. I think it's mainly because I'm a picky eater who doesn't like things with too much flavor or too many ingredients. Oh, and I also hate being wet, which means that all of the veggie-handling, the washing and the slicing, is nearly intolerable to me. I hate to cook, and I stink at it.
Or do I? Come to find out, for the past four years that we've lived in this house, our oven has been broken. Some kind of heating element flake-out has been causing it to slowly lose its ability to heat properly. So all those times I tried to make the meatloaf recipe that was stuck to the ground beef package, the one that said it took 45 minutes to cook, maybe it wasn't still raw inside after 70 minutes because I Can't Cook. Maybe it was the oven's fault. (We don't need to get into why it took me FOUR YEARS to figure this out.)
Maybe, just maybe, now that Jason has fixed the oven, and now that I will be the proud owner of 9 new cookbooks in the next 10-14 business days, I can cook.
I told you that I bought a food processor. It's actually still disassembled because I couldn't figure out how to put it all together, even though they thoughtfully included a "How to Assemble Your Food Processor" diagram with labeled parts. But once I remember to ask Jason to put it together for me, I am totally going to start using it. I can't even imagine how, or to do what, but I promise you that I am going to use that thing. I bought a wide-mouth version because it says "Less pre-cutting!" in a large, jaunty font on the box. Sold!
The inspiration for that particular purchase was Noodle Mom. One night when I went over to her house for a beer, I was shocked and awed to see her nonchalantly moving zucchini muffin goop into muffin tins. Naturally I was impressed by her feat of from-scratch baking, which is the stuff of legend in my house, but then another thought occurred to me: how do you get from an oblong, whole zucchini to surprisingly unrepugnant zucchini muffin mix?
The question stuck with me, unanswered, until the day I was at Target, looking for ways to spend money in a way that could be disguised as Being A Good Wife and Mother, when I stumbled upon the wide-mouth food processor. In my mind I saw a zuccini moving in slow motion toward the plastic opening of the food processor...and it all suddenly started to make sense.
And soon I'll have the cookbooks to talk me through the finer points.
P.S. Get a load of some of the names of the books I bought - they are guaranteed to increase your heart rate and cause sweat to bead your forehead:
Desperation Dinners
The 5:30 Challenge: 5 Ingredients, 30 Minutes, Dinner on the Table
Quick Meals For Healthy Kids and Busy Families
Busy People's Super Simple 30-Minute Menus: 137 Complete Meals Timed For Success
The Frantic Woman's Guide To Life: A Year's Worth of Hints, Tips, and Tricks
Don't they make you feel like you've got to go change into running shoes? I didn't do much research on the books; I just interpreted the "busy and quick" theme as "lazy" and ran with it.
Yup, cookbooks. I haven't even told Jason yet - he'll go into hysterics when I tell him. And then he'll suggest some things I should have bought instead, things I'd actually use. You see, I am not a natural in the kitchen. I think it's mainly because I'm a picky eater who doesn't like things with too much flavor or too many ingredients. Oh, and I also hate being wet, which means that all of the veggie-handling, the washing and the slicing, is nearly intolerable to me. I hate to cook, and I stink at it.
Or do I? Come to find out, for the past four years that we've lived in this house, our oven has been broken. Some kind of heating element flake-out has been causing it to slowly lose its ability to heat properly. So all those times I tried to make the meatloaf recipe that was stuck to the ground beef package, the one that said it took 45 minutes to cook, maybe it wasn't still raw inside after 70 minutes because I Can't Cook. Maybe it was the oven's fault. (We don't need to get into why it took me FOUR YEARS to figure this out.)
Maybe, just maybe, now that Jason has fixed the oven, and now that I will be the proud owner of 9 new cookbooks in the next 10-14 business days, I can cook.
I told you that I bought a food processor. It's actually still disassembled because I couldn't figure out how to put it all together, even though they thoughtfully included a "How to Assemble Your Food Processor" diagram with labeled parts. But once I remember to ask Jason to put it together for me, I am totally going to start using it. I can't even imagine how, or to do what, but I promise you that I am going to use that thing. I bought a wide-mouth version because it says "Less pre-cutting!" in a large, jaunty font on the box. Sold!
The inspiration for that particular purchase was Noodle Mom. One night when I went over to her house for a beer, I was shocked and awed to see her nonchalantly moving zucchini muffin goop into muffin tins. Naturally I was impressed by her feat of from-scratch baking, which is the stuff of legend in my house, but then another thought occurred to me: how do you get from an oblong, whole zucchini to surprisingly unrepugnant zucchini muffin mix?
The question stuck with me, unanswered, until the day I was at Target, looking for ways to spend money in a way that could be disguised as Being A Good Wife and Mother, when I stumbled upon the wide-mouth food processor. In my mind I saw a zuccini moving in slow motion toward the plastic opening of the food processor...and it all suddenly started to make sense.
And soon I'll have the cookbooks to talk me through the finer points.
P.S. Get a load of some of the names of the books I bought - they are guaranteed to increase your heart rate and cause sweat to bead your forehead:
Desperation Dinners
The 5:30 Challenge: 5 Ingredients, 30 Minutes, Dinner on the Table
Quick Meals For Healthy Kids and Busy Families
Busy People's Super Simple 30-Minute Menus: 137 Complete Meals Timed For Success
The Frantic Woman's Guide To Life: A Year's Worth of Hints, Tips, and Tricks
Don't they make you feel like you've got to go change into running shoes? I didn't do much research on the books; I just interpreted the "busy and quick" theme as "lazy" and ran with it.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Friday Follow-Up
Hey! I have some updates to report in a new feature that I'll call Friday Follow-Up (read with jazz hands). It'll be kind of like the annual Christmas letter that you see families sending in movies and TV shows but never in real life. Only weekly. And in real life.
My very first post, Kiss me...Like this...On the mouth! talked about the ritual bedtime smooch that I share with Nathan each night. You may remember that only dramatic, drawn-out kisses on the lips were acceptable to my little boy, and you may also have read in my biography that Nathan has an autism spectrum disorder that makes him pretty, uh, how do I put this? Inflexible. So you can imagine the sheer panic that hit me at bedtime a couple of weeks ago when I felt like I was coming down with something. I didn't want to pass my germs along, but good lord, how could I deny Nathan his big smooch on the mouth? Well, the kid surprised me. After running through the rest of the lengthy bedtime routine as he expected, I nervously mentioned that I'd be giving him a "big kiss...like this" on the cheek that night. Eyes locked, we stared each other down for about 120 seconds before he decided, "No. You can kiss me...like this...on this cheek AND on this cheek." So, we made it through the ordeal just fine, with mom being charged one penalty kiss. Phew!
I got a lot of creative advice from my Facebook friends after writing I'm so glad you shared...now what's your name again? - apparently I am not the only mom who has been in this awkward situation. But you know what? I didn't have to use any of your ideas - I cheated instead. At the start of our very next parent meeting, the moderator of the group addressed the mom-to-be by name. Score! For the rest of the meeting, I cockily tossed that girl her name so many times she probably thought I was trying to initiate a drinking game.
Remember how I mentioned that Nathan substitutes "juice box" for "juke box" when he sings "I Love Rock and Roll" by Joan Jett? Well, now I have to sing it that way whenever I hear it (usually while playing Guitar Hero) - and it makes me sound like a slurry Courtney Love. This, combined with the automatic hiccups that humiliate me every time I drink half a beer, makes me seem much drunker than I (usually) am.
The response that I've gotten from my angst-ridden post about changing schools has been overwhelming. I couldn't believe the outpouring of welcome from Heights parents and the wistful understanding and well-wishing from Alt School parents. At the new school, I've seen so many moms I know from MOMS Club and around town, and I feel totally at ease and like a part of the Heights community. Oh, yeah, and the girls are loving their new school, which I guess is kind of important, too. The agita of being part of an always-on-the-chopping-block school is gone, and the agita of changing schools faded quickly. Now if someone could give me a Tums for the kids-have-to-read-to-me-for-20-minutes-each-night agita...
And one more update. After my post Enough, already, a lot of people rushed to my defense and accused Noodle Mom of being a holier-than-thou show-off. Because she's actually a close friend and an all-around good egg, I defended her. Then, last week, she messaged me about how she was preparing homemade fruit leather and making hand-cranked noodles in the same day. So you know what? You can feel free to let those barbs fly! ;-)
Jonesin' for some Street Hoops,
Kelley
P.S. I'm typing this at Starbucks while the girls are in school and the boy is at a drop-off program at the Y. (Ooooh yeah!) And a mother just came in with her teenage daughter and used the coolest mom line, which I am totally going to steal. The daughter picked up a mug that she wanted and quoted the price. Unflappable Mom said calmly over her shoulder as she approached the barista, "I'm only here for coffee." The mug was replaced and the girl never made a peep of protest. Next time we're at the store and the girls start frothing at the mouth over gum at the checkout, I'll say, "We're only here for beer."
My very first post, Kiss me...Like this...On the mouth! talked about the ritual bedtime smooch that I share with Nathan each night. You may remember that only dramatic, drawn-out kisses on the lips were acceptable to my little boy, and you may also have read in my biography that Nathan has an autism spectrum disorder that makes him pretty, uh, how do I put this? Inflexible. So you can imagine the sheer panic that hit me at bedtime a couple of weeks ago when I felt like I was coming down with something. I didn't want to pass my germs along, but good lord, how could I deny Nathan his big smooch on the mouth? Well, the kid surprised me. After running through the rest of the lengthy bedtime routine as he expected, I nervously mentioned that I'd be giving him a "big kiss...like this" on the cheek that night. Eyes locked, we stared each other down for about 120 seconds before he decided, "No. You can kiss me...like this...on this cheek AND on this cheek." So, we made it through the ordeal just fine, with mom being charged one penalty kiss. Phew!
I got a lot of creative advice from my Facebook friends after writing I'm so glad you shared...now what's your name again? - apparently I am not the only mom who has been in this awkward situation. But you know what? I didn't have to use any of your ideas - I cheated instead. At the start of our very next parent meeting, the moderator of the group addressed the mom-to-be by name. Score! For the rest of the meeting, I cockily tossed that girl her name so many times she probably thought I was trying to initiate a drinking game.
Remember how I mentioned that Nathan substitutes "juice box" for "juke box" when he sings "I Love Rock and Roll" by Joan Jett? Well, now I have to sing it that way whenever I hear it (usually while playing Guitar Hero) - and it makes me sound like a slurry Courtney Love. This, combined with the automatic hiccups that humiliate me every time I drink half a beer, makes me seem much drunker than I (usually) am.
The response that I've gotten from my angst-ridden post about changing schools has been overwhelming. I couldn't believe the outpouring of welcome from Heights parents and the wistful understanding and well-wishing from Alt School parents. At the new school, I've seen so many moms I know from MOMS Club and around town, and I feel totally at ease and like a part of the Heights community. Oh, yeah, and the girls are loving their new school, which I guess is kind of important, too. The agita of being part of an always-on-the-chopping-block school is gone, and the agita of changing schools faded quickly. Now if someone could give me a Tums for the kids-have-to-read-to-me-for-20-minutes-each-night agita...
And one more update. After my post Enough, already, a lot of people rushed to my defense and accused Noodle Mom of being a holier-than-thou show-off. Because she's actually a close friend and an all-around good egg, I defended her. Then, last week, she messaged me about how she was preparing homemade fruit leather and making hand-cranked noodles in the same day. So you know what? You can feel free to let those barbs fly! ;-)
Jonesin' for some Street Hoops,
Kelley
P.S. I'm typing this at Starbucks while the girls are in school and the boy is at a drop-off program at the Y. (Ooooh yeah!) And a mother just came in with her teenage daughter and used the coolest mom line, which I am totally going to steal. The daughter picked up a mug that she wanted and quoted the price. Unflappable Mom said calmly over her shoulder as she approached the barista, "I'm only here for coffee." The mug was replaced and the girl never made a peep of protest. Next time we're at the store and the girls start frothing at the mouth over gum at the checkout, I'll say, "We're only here for beer."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
