I Blinked And Suddenly He Was Four

My J turned 4 today. He's been counting down the days to his birthday for Idon'tknowhowlongnow- at least since his brother's birthday, and that was in May. I ended up making a big long chain for him that we've been tearing off every night at bedtime for a few weeks. As the chain's gotten shorter, I've been telling him "Only 4 more days of being 3", and then "Only 3 more days of being 3". You get the idea. But when we got to "Only 2 more days of being 3", his eyes got wide and he sat up in bed real fast. He said, "Mommy! Wait! I like being 3! I don't want to change numbers!"

Consider my heart sweetly broken.

I told him that there were a lot of good things about being 3, but that being 4 would be even more fun. I reminded him of all the things he couldn't do when he was 2 that he could do now, like go to school, brush his own teeth, wear big boy undies, and sleep in a bunk bed. That seemed to reignite the birthday excitement. I kissed him goodnight and turned off the lights.

Exit one weepy and sentimental mama.

So, I did the best thing anyone can do when they are already feeling nostaligic and sad. I looked through old baby pictures.

Then I uploaded them into a slideshow.

Kill me now.

Anyway. Here it is. Come wallow with me.

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

Well.

That was a little too fast to be sentimental. But in keeping with the whole Sunrise/Sunset theme, I guess I could say that it feels like his first four years flashed by just as fast as that slideshow.

I wouldn't be lying.

Anyway, happy birthday to my J! You may cause the most trouble, but you also get the biggest laughs! We love you!

Kale Chips= Bad, Kettle Chips= Good

It's been a rough week, folks. Rough. Between the detox diet, PMS'ing, and being broke just in time for J's birthday, I've been pretty much moping around the house feeling hungry and a lil' depressed. I've stayed offline in an effort to not spread my poison. But here it is now for your enjoyment.

Let's start with what I've learned about detox dieting: It's stupid.

Okay, maybe not stupid. Just not for me and Mr. C. We were supposed to do 4 days of smoothies/soups for breakfast & dinner, with a small meal at lunch that consisted of a protein and vegetables. It sounded easy enough, but we discovered something important about ourselves. We don't like to be hungry.

The day just dragged, our energy was low, and when it finally came time to eat an actual meal at lunch, everything in Mr. C's expression when he looked down at the 4 oz. salmon and greens echoed my sentiments exactly: "Please sir, may I have some more?".

After crawling through the rest of the day and dragging ourselves through the kids' dinner, bath, and bedtime, I whipped up our cold beet soup and handed it to Mr. C. That's when he put down his glass, pinned me against the counter, looked deep into my eyes, and said, "I don't want to be hungry. I just want to be healthy."

And that's about as romantic as Mr. C gets.

We waved the white flag.

We decided to do something for the next four days that was a little more common sense for us. We started eating when we were hungry, but made sure we ate only fruits or vegetables. We still cut out alcohol, sugar, dairy, caffeine, red meat, and oh yeah, did I mention alcohol? We started exercising again together (which totally brought back memories of how we used to run sprints together at the local high school when we were dating- is it wrong that I associate romance with sweat and fierce competition?).

We also cut out alcohol.

Or did I mention that already?

Anyway, I guess the detox worked in that it gave us a jump start on a healthier lifestyle, even if we do have those nasty toxins still floating around our bodies. I'm going to be cooking vegetarian for the next month or so- it's an adventure in cooking for me, as well as part of our attempt at better health.

Also, I feel skinnier, though I don't know if I lost any weight or not. I don't keep a scale in the house because my therapist mother, who counseled many a young girl with an eating disorder, taught us to go by what we see in the mirror rather than what the scale tells us. I am wondering though, after spending yesterday at a water park and seeing many a heft lady walking around in a bikini, if perhaps I shouldn't just work on my confidence issues instead.

Allright, so I'll eventually post the FFF Part 2, Pizza Party Edition, though I decided I'm just gonna do it when I want to. (Don't blame me, blame the lack of sugar and carbs. I think it's made me more obstinate. )

I've also got a certain almost-4 year olds birthday post to plan. You know those are special to me, so stay posted.

You all have a great day!

P.S.- One last thing. This last week I read in a health magazine about a lady who lost a lot of weight blah, blah, blah. What caught my attention was that she said she was passionately addicted to chips, and that she found a perfect replacement that satisfied her cravings: Kale Chips.

I tried it.

They were disgusting.

That lady may be skinny on the outside, but on the inside she's a big, fat, mean, liar.

That's all I'm going to say about that.

Finger Food Friday: Pizza Party Edition

Hi all. Sorry I'm late.

My niece and nephew came over last Friday for dinner, so FFF is all about the kids this week. My aim was to do something easy and fun. However, due to my lack or organizational skills, it turned out to be hectic and fun. For this post though, I'm just going to focus on the fun and spare you all the details about the hectic. I hate to be reminded that I'm not organized.

Allright. English Muffin Pizzas.

Not a lot of instruction/explaination necessary.

You get a bowl of pizza sauce, tomato sauce, or as I did, leftover spaghetti sauce. You set it on a table along with cheese and pepperoni.

Looks organized, right? Wait till the monkeys get their hands on it. You'll see.

Give each child a toasted english muffin and let them go to town.

Allright, I admit. Things look pretty calm here. Why is it that in my head all I remember is lots of little fingers everywhere, cheese on the floor, and puddles of sauce being splashed around?

Oh that's right. The fun. I'm supposed to be focusing on the fun.

By the way, I didn't wash my hair with vaseline despite what the picture conveys. It was just wet and stringy from the pool.

Also, judging from past FFF pics, you must think that we never dress Roo. That's cuz when it's a million degrees outside, we don't. She sports the trailer trash look for most of summer.

Anyway. Back to the fun.

This is my neice. She's very focused and precise.

(Roo! Stop eating the cheese!)

This is my son.

He's um...... whatever the opposite of focused and precise is. I didn't count on having to explain that the sauce goes on first. He got all crazy and started throwing cheese and pepperonis around like he was at a ticker tape parade.

Here's PG with the pizzas, ready to usher them under the broiler. I like her Vanna White flair.

Now, I know I said earlier that I remember this whole kid cooking thing as being hectic and disorganized, but I'm looking at the pictures and it's like I wasn't even there.

Would a disorganized person do this?

I diagrammed the pizzas on the cookie sheet to know who's was who? What? That is SO not how I usually roll. The real me would've thrown all the pizzas on there and THEN remembered that she didn't know who made what. Then she would've lied to the kids and told them that yes, they did indeed make that exact pizza and to not question what's in front of them.

Body snatchers are the only explanation I have for that display of forward thinking you see above there.

Getting back to it:

I broiled the pizzas on high for about 3-4 minutes while the cutest crew around waited oh so patiently.

Well, the girls anyway. The boys kind of are looking like the may reach through the camera and attack if I don't put some food in front of them soon.

Here you go boys. How does that look?

How bout a close up shot?

That probably only looks good if you're a kid. But, as you can see, this crew enjoyed it.

Allright. I was going to keep going and show you Pizza Party, Round 2: Dessert Pizzas. Now, those were delish for kids and adults alike. However, I'm kind of tired and tomorrow Mr. C and I start a 4 day juice cleansing/detox diet, so I think I'll post round 2 tomorrow. You know, just to torture myself with pictures of all the yummy food I can't eat?

Yay.

You all have a good night!

Day 5, I Can See Clearly Now the Rain Is Here

Hi all! I'm in a much better mood now. We had a busy day today that included a monsoon, a monkey, and some ice cream. Nothing like monkeys and ice cream to lift spirits.

Anyway, I don't know why but I documented most of it. Just in case you wanted to see it, I guess.

So here it is.

A.M. was spent lazing around the house in jammies and wilting leis from the day before. PG was upset because the tooth fairy forgot to pay her a visit last night. (Oops.)

I was able to convince her that it was because the TF didn't see her sleeping in her own bed. This turned out to be ingenious because a) PG bought it and b)she'll be sure in the future to stay in her own bed instead of wandering into my room at all hours of the night.

We lounged around for a couple eps of Dora The Explorer, and then left at 9:30 for a doctor appointment.

That's the temperature outside.

Is that just stupid or what?

After coming home, we took short naps. YAY! None of us got a lot of sleep last night. To make it worse, at 5 a.m. the cat coughed up a hairball in Roo's room and woke her up. For what feels like the hundredth time this year, I found myself scrubbing disgusting stains off my carpet pre-coffee.

I hate cats.

But I love naps.

After naps and lunch we went swimming.

I was trying to explain to some friends recently (Hi Ann!) that having a pool in the desert is kind of useless after the temp hits about 105 or so because it just feels like you're swimming around in a warm bath. Not refreshing at all.

But Mr. C had gotten me a cool camera for Mother's Day that takes underwater shots and video, so that helped make swimming fun today.

After swimming, we headed out to the library for an Animal Show. I don't know where this lady is from, but she did a pretty good presentation for the kids. She brought out a monkey, a boa constrictor, a couple of millipedes, a macaw, and this guy:

You should've seen how fast J scooted backwards when she busted out with that baby up there. He has a secret fear of alligators and crocodiles.

Not that he'll ever 'fess up to it in a million years.

Then we took a walk outside in the park to see the ducks. I think J might be nervously scanning the water for baby crocodiles.

And that's when I noticed that the sky was getting ominous looking.

Thunder was rumbling in the distance, so we headed for cover.....

at the frozen yogurt shop.

That's my girl Roo double fisting it. She's learned from the best (moi).

And then we headed home to play a mean game of Old Maid while listening to thunder and rain.

We ended up only getting a few sprinkles of rain. Boo! But the smell outside was so good (anyone else love that damp smell right before a rainfall?) that I turned off the a/c and opened all the doors and windows.

Then I closed them back up again in about 20 minutes because we were all melting.

After that it was dinner, bath, and bedtime.

That's my bed, but they're actually all sleeping on my floor tonight. I figured if they were going to be waking me up at all hours, they may as well just be in my room with me. I'm saving us all a trip down the hall and BONUS: I can buy another day of tooth fairy excuses- just in case I forget again tonight.

So that's it. Nothing exciting, but I'm finding that I have a lot more time in the evenings when Mr. C is away. Television just isn't as interesting when you're watching it by yourself. At least not for me.

As for Mr. C, he sent me a message yesterday that said he loved me and is looking forward to coming home. I wrote back that he probably shouldn't be looking forward to it that much as I've been harboring feeling of hatred and resentment towards him for the last week. Then I told him that he was getting up with the kids for the next 6 days.

What's wrong with me that I get such satisfaction from being so mean?

So anyway, that husband of mine wrote back that getting up with the kids would be the least that he could do. I know what he's doing. It's the old "killing her with kindness" trick. And it's working.

I hate that he knows that that would work on me.

But I also kind of love it too.

You all have a good night!

Day 4

Day 4 of being alone with the kids. 2 to go. Here's what I did today:

2 loads of laundry

a trip to the park to play in the water feature

watched my friend's 2 kids

let PG have a friend over as well

took the kids swimming

made flower leis for the girls out of our backyard jasmine

negotiated a nap for J without him throwing a fit

went to the grocery store

dealt with an allergic reaction that came from nowhere

made a breakfast dinner

bathed and showered the children

supervised/refereed the cleaning of 2 very messy rooms

read bedtime stories

put children to bed

Now, I don't mean to keep harping on my spouse. He's gone, he missed our anniversary and left me alone with the kids while he funs off, it's done. I will let this go.

Eventually.

However, today in one of my more resentful feeling moments, I thought to myself how it would be deeply satisfying to greet him at the door when he comes home with my own bags packed. I'd breeze past him with my luggage and say "Bye. I'll see you in 6 days! Have fun & good luck!"

Then I realized that what his Day 4 would look like:

take the kids for doughnuts

play video games with the kids

watch movies with the kids

go swimming with the kids

order a pizza for dinner

put the kids to bed.

It's also probably what days 1,2,3,5, & 6 would look like too. Except day 6 would probably include some cleaning.

So, my little fantasy is ruined because in it I'd come through the door wanting to see him tired and bedraggled and instead he'd be happy and smug. And I'd say "How'd it go?" hoping to hear him cry about how hard it was, and he'd say instead "Fine!". And then none of the kids would be happy to see me because the return of this fun sucker means that their glory days are over.

It's a lose/lose situation I'm in. If I was just a little less neurotic, I'd go ahead and throw in the towel, and forego all teaching of manners, hygiene, nutrition, etc. etc.

Thankfully, I'm neurotic enough to stick to my guns.

You all have a good night!

A Righteous Pity Party

Today is my wedding anniversary.

Today is my wedding anniversary and my husband is not here. As in, he's in another state. As in, he's in another state by choice geeking off with his nerdy friends at the Apple Distinguished Educators conference.

I am angry about this.

He knows that I am angry about this. Upon telling me that he wasn't going to be here for our anniversary and realizing how angry I was about it, he offered to cancel it.

As if I'd want to spend my anniversary with him knowing that his first choice was to be somewhere else.

Then he tried to fix it by planning a getaway for us the week before our wedding anniversary.

As if I'd feel better knowing that he'd not only get to go away for 6 days with his Apple buddies, but also got to enjoy a second "vacation" (aka, consolation prize) with me.

Did I mention that he did the same thing last year? And that last year, in a cheery effort to not let it bother me, I planned a trip to Knott's Berry Farm and the beach which ended in J and Roo coming down with diarrhea? In their car seats? And on my anniversary I had to spend the day rinsing out their car seats in the beach showers? And that my relatives, who I was meeting at the beach, all hated me a little bit afterwards cuz their kids got diarrhea too? And how I had to haul 3 sleeping children, one pack n play, 2 duffle bags, and one diaper bag up to the 3rd floor of a hotel all by myself? And then Mr. C had to nerve to get mad at me for being angry with him when he returned home?

Today is my wedding anniversary and I am pissed.

But that helps me feel a little bit better.

Thanks for letting me vent. I'm now going to go light some candles, grab my book, some kettle chips, some wine, and take a bubble bath. This day is not going to be a total loss.

You all have a good night.

Finger Food Wednesday on Friday

Hi all.

I like to keep changing it up on you. Tonight (Friday) me and the fam are going to a local minor league baseball game, so FFF actually happened on Wednesday night, thus enabling me to actually get a FFF posted on an actual Friday. Also working in my favor was the fact that the little kids were off at an overnight with their grandparents. This was a good thing, because besides beef dips, FFF also includes Beer Battered Green Beans.

Say whaaaaaaaaat?

Yep. Beer Battered Green Beans. It caught my eye in the August edition of Rachael Ray's Everyday Magazine. It didn't even occur to me that they sound kinda gross until I told Mr. C what I was making. The look he gave me made me second guess myself, but thankfully I stuck with my gut instinct. The little fat cells that have taken up residence in there (largely due to my Kettle Chip obsession of '08 & '09) guided me in the right direction. The Beer Battered Green Beans turned out to be delish.

So let's get started, shall we?

First thing you'll want to do is pour out 2/3 cup of beer into a bowl. I used Corona because that's what we had in our fridge, but I think the taste of a nice amber might be good.

Let that stand for 10 minutes or until it hits room temperature and looses some fizz.

In the meantime, wash and trim a pound of green beans. Throw them into a bowl of ice water for 5 minutes or so. This crisps them all up before you have to throw them in a vat of hot oil (fry, you little suckers.... fry!).

Sorry. Sometimes I think I have too much pent up anger.

Those green beans did nothing to me. Sorry, little beans.

Let's go back to the beer.

Go ahead and mix in 1/2 cup of flour, 2 Tbs. of cornstarch, and 1/2 tsp. of salt.

Whisk it all up, and then go back to the beans.

Is this starting to feel like a Wimbledon match to you? Beer! Beans! Beer! Beans!

Anyway. Remove them from the ice bath and pat them dry.

Mix those beans up in that batter and make 'em look like this:

This next part here is where I thought I made a fatal mistake. The recipe calls for 2 cups of vegetable oil, and I discovered that I only had olive oil on hand. Olive oil doesn't handle high temps very well, so I thought that I was doomed. However, one of my better qualities is that a quitter I am not, so I forged ahead and decided to see what would happen. Surprisingly, everything turned out okay- so, all this was to tell you that you can either use 2 cups of veg. oil, or 3/4 cup of olive oil, and everything will be okay.

Working in 4 batches at a time, drop the beans into the pan and let them fry for about 3 minutes, turning once.

Sorry about the blurry pic. It's hard to take a good picture when there's tons of steam fogging the lens and little spatters of oil are jumping up and biting your arm. The next pic is better, I promise.

When you're all finished with the batches of beans, you can drain them on a napkin OR you can be savvy like me and drain them on a paper bag. It soaks up more grease and lends more space.

Salt it to your taste.

Are you still not convinced that these are worth your time and effort? That's cuz they're not...... yet. What you need to do is mix up a batch of Aioli sauce for dipping. That's when you'll begin sighing and licking your fingers.

Here's how you make the Aioli sauce:

Chop up one clove of garlic. Whisk it into a small bowl that contains 1/4 cup of mayo, 1/2 tsp. of mustard, 1/2 tsp. dried tarragon, salt, and pepper. It'll look like this:

I don't have a good picture from the family's reaction. Mr. C and 9 are not usually the most willing of subjects. You just have to know that despite how disgusted they were when they heard what I was cooking up, Beer Battered Green Beans were pretty much a success with everyone except for Roo. You wouldn't be able to tell from this pic though:

They're kind of goofy, but they're mine and I love them.

One last thing. Just in case the beef dips and deep fried foods failed to induce a heart attack, I made sure to have these in my freezer.

Luther peeps- remember these? They were worth every bit of the 50 cents and 15 minute wait in the snack bar line at school. Mint chip ice cream, sandwiched between two oatmeal cookies, all covered in dark chocolate. After a 15 year It's It hiatus in which there were none to be found anywhere in SoCal, my local Stater Bros. now carries them. God bless Stater Brothers. And god bless my 13 year old metabolism. I miss you. I want you back.

You all have a good night!

Code Name: Klutz

You ever hear stories of how in the old days dads would put a pair of boxing gloves on their squabbling kids and let them duke it out for themselves? Tonight I was going to videotape for you the modern day equivalent: Wii Sword Fighting. I was going to write about how I think it's a great outlet for my kids to stab and hit each other over the head with long and heavy weapons without all the blood and trauma. (Plus, I was going to point out how cute J is when he wiggles his caboose all over the place in his quest to knock out the bad guys).

However, I got a whole 'nother post out of it. Watch and see for yourself:

Untitled from Tacy Cauthron on Vimeo.

I think laughing mercilessly at people who fall is in my genes. I remember being in the car with my mom and watching a pedestrian fall off the curb. My mom laughed so hard that she was barely able to ask the person if they were okay. (The person was, but I think he felt much like PG... humiliated and annoyed). We can't help it, and I like to think that if we were ever in a situation where we saw that a person was seriously injured, the urge to laugh would cease.

Here's to hoping.

Anyway, it occured to me while I was watching this (and rewatching, laughing, rewinding, rewatching, etc) that I don't know why I even bother calling the kids by code names when I write for this blog. You all know what my kids' names are. And if you didn't, you'd just have to look at the back of J's shirt, where the name JAKE is clearly spelled out for you.

And poor PG. It's going to be hard for me to look her in the eyes and call her "Grace" for a while.

You think she'll object to Princess Klutz?

Fourth

Food.

Floating.

Fun.

Friends.

Freaks.

Fatigue.

Freedom.

Hope your Fourth was fabulous!

xo,

Meanie Mom

Cosmic Ponderings of Finger Foods, Overalls, and Puff

Sorry guys. No Finger Food Friday this week. I had good intentions of doing a post on tacos, but then 9 and PG had some friends over to spend the night and things got a little crazy (read- LOUD). You all have seen my photography skills. I can barely take a good picture with relative silence, let alone doing it while shouting things like "Oh, Oh! Please don't sit on the couch in your wet bathing suit!" and "Boys! No squirting water guns at the dogs. No, they don't like it. Because I know! Please don't argue!"

Let's just say I'm appreciating the quiet today. I even put the kids to bed at 7 so that I could enjoy more of it.

I just wanted to jot down a couple of words tonight about coincidences. I've written before that I believe the universe sometimes talks to me through random messages. That's been happening these last couple of days, though to be honest, I'm not sure if it's saying anything really profound or meaningful. If it is, it better speak louder and more clearly. Subtle is not going to work with the little amount of sleep this mama's had lately.

Anyway, the first coincidence is that one of my fav mommy bloggers that I've mentioned tons of times on here titled her last post "Fashion Sunday on Saturday." Remind you of anything? That seems like a HUGE coincidence and its made me wonder if maybe? perhaps? she's swung by here on Meanie Mom and seen my FFF on Saturday post and it stuck in her subconscious somewhere.

OR, perhaps it is just a plain old coincidence- which is probably the better of the choices considering the long, dark, road my mind took while wondering/obsessing why she wouldn't comment or follow. It's a sick little neighborhood, my mind.

The second coincidence came when I was reading another blogger that I love. Remember how my last post mentioned 90's fashion? Well, I wrote that on Tuesday and published it on Thursday night. On Friday, Big Mama wrote here about cleaning out closets and 90's overalls. Can you believe it? I started thinking about "The Truman Show" and asking myself if there was in fact, a possibility that life could really be all about me, just as I'd so often wished.

Then the final doozy came when my family and I went to see Toy Story 3 today. Remember how I wrote on Thursday that "Puff The Magic Dragon" just tears me up inside? (I know it sounds stupid, but you're hearing this from a girl who would listen outside her bedroom door until age 12, convinced that her toys were moving around and talking as soon as she left the room.) Toy Story 3 turned out to be a 1 hour 49 minute looooong chorus of Puff the Magic Dragon. The whole time I had a lump in my throat the size of a boulder and halfway through I pulled J out of his chair and onto my lap, just so I could hold him and nuzzle into his little neck while he's still small and willing to let me do it. Because, you know it won't be long before he'll be all grown and boxing up his own super hero toys and stuffed dog and...... sniff, sniff, sob, wah!

So, to sum it up, I've got a message this week about finger foods, overalls, and Puff the Magic Dragon. Maybe I'm wanting to revert back to childhood, when finger foods, overalls, and stuffed animals are part of an everyday existence?

Or it could just mean that I'm way too into blogging right now.

You all have a good night!