Archive | May, 2010

Memorial Day Weekend

28 May

Okay…the truth is I’ve got a busy weekend ahead and I’m trying to not touch my computer this weekend. Trying…I said trying. So I just wanted to wish you all a very safe Memorial Day and share the following with you…

Every American I know celebrates Memorial Day in some fashion…mostly a weekend filled with BBQ’s, beer and rejoicing in the fact that we have a three day weekend. Who doesn’t love that, right? But sometimes I feel we don’t understand the magnitude of this holiday and what it really stands for. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a military home with parents who taught me about pride, honor and sacrifice. They taught me that you don’t speak when you hear our national anthem playing…it’s a respect thing. I may not say it enough but I am extremely proud to be an American..I still tear up at the Star Spangled Banner and feel a sense of pride every single time I hear it before a race. And while I don’t agree with illegal immigration, I can certainly understand why people want to come here. America rules people!

To me, this holiday represents extraordinary people who have offered their lives in return for our freedom. Just think about that for a minute…would you offer your life to save your husband’s life…your child’s life? The answer is probably yes. Now would you offer your life to save a complete stranger? You probably paused before answering that…I did. Remember that our military personnel OFFERED their life in return for OUR freedom…they didn’t just offer in a “hey, if you ever need me, let me know” kind of way. They volunteered and spent months, maybe even years training to protect our nation.

So please…please…please take a moment this weekend to honor them in some way. Whether it be in quiet reflection or by sending a car package to a soldier overseas. If you need a name of a soldier to send it to, please let me know and I can easily supply a name and address of one of the best soldiers I know. I don’t care who you pray to or if you’ve never prayed at all but this weekend…please pray for the people who are over there fighting this fight for us and remember the ones who have given their lives for this great nation and your freedom.

A Gem…

26 May
I came across this when I was cleaning up my computer and meant to blog about this mugshot I recently came across at some point and then forgot. All I want to say is:
DUDE…SOMEBODY LIED TO YOU!

Family Portrait

26 May
We never did a holiday portrait this year as family. I’m lazy and don’t think of things like that. So I thought I would post this one. It’s the closest thing I have to a family picture and it would be a great family portrait if this was my real husband and I had two daughters. If you see this on next year’s holiday cards, you will understand just how lazy I can be. I think I can just overlay Mike’s face on to Art’s. I dunno…anyone good with photoshop?
 Note: The people in this photo are not paid actors. Art is our best friend and Mimis is his little girl.  

My Hair is Not Straight

26 May

Last night I get Ava out of the bathtub and she wants me to blowdry her hair. Now I should mention that yesterday morning, I was blowdrying my hair and the power on my blowdryer sounded like it was going to die. Now I should also mention that I don’t have the best luck with blowdryers. There was the time that one caught on fire while I was blowdrying my hair…that was fun. Then there was the time I used a hotel blowdryer and it ate my hair…I’m not joking. I had to call my dad from the next room to get my hair out.

So I go to blowdry Ava’s hair and the stupid blowdryer won’t work. She starts crying. Mike’s on the phone and I’m like, “Babe, the stupid blowdryer isn’t working can you fix it?” He’s all, “Did you push the reset button? The red one?” I’m not a moron…of course I tried that. I have this cordkeeper blowdryer where you push a button and it sucks the cord up through the base. So I’ve done that…pulled it back out…nothings working. So he comes in, plugs it in and pulls the cord out only a little and it works. I’m like, “Are you SURE it works because if it doesn’t I need to go get a new blowdryer. Right. Now.” And he’s like, “Yep…I’m sure.” And I’m like, “Because if it doesn’t work tomorrow I’m going to be pissed. You’re sure it works.” He’s all, “Yeah…it works babe.”

Not wanting to tempt fate, I decide to leave it plugged in, untouched until this morning. I get out of the shower and go to use the blowdryer and it doesn’t work. IT DOESN’T WORK!!!!!! At this point I start freaking out. Most people wouldn’t freak out but I have a short haircut and was not blessed with straight hair. Some people might say, “Well then, just let it be curly for a day.” Those people have obviously not seen my hair when it air dries. It’s not good curly or wavy. It’s got parts that are stick straight and parts that are wavy and parts that flip up. It’s not pretty people. It just isn’t.

So here I am freaking out. I call Mike and of course at this point it’s his fault that my blowdryer is broken. I should have just gone out and bought one last night. He told me it was fixed so it’s totally his fault. So I call him and he asks me, “Did you press the red button?” Now I feel like I’m on that season of Lost where Desmond just has to keep pushing the button or something terrible is going to happen. OF COURSE I PUSHED THE RED BUTTON!!!! So I tell him that it kind of works if I don’t take the cord out but that it’s making a funny sound. He’s all, “Well, just try to use it that way.” Hmmm…let’s think about this for a moment. I have an electrical appliance that’s clearly having electrical issues and his advice is to give a go????

So I pull out my flat iron and decide to try to dry my hair this way. I’m frantic at this point. I’m running late…I have no idea how long it’s going to take to flatiron my hair dry and I’m a little terrified that all my flatiron is going to do is fry my hair. It worked…my hair looks like absolute crap today but at least it’s not curly…it just looks like crap.

Then Ava decides she has to dress herself this morning. She’s okay at this…slow…but okay. Her guidance to dressing herself is that the tags go in the back. Well, don’t you know the outfit I picked out today was one of those tagless shirts. So she’s all, “I can’t find the tag! The tag goes in the back. I can’t find the tag!!!” I yell from the other room, “Look for the writing. The writing goes in the back.” Her response, “Mom, what’s writing?” So I go in to help her…bad move on my part. She’s in total independent mode and doesn’t want my help. So now I’m trying to help her without her knowing I’m helping her. All the while, my patience is wearing really thin and the minutes are ticking away on the clock.

She’s finally dressed and I can’t find her Vans. Yes…the new Vans that she adores. So I’m like screw it, she can just wear these other shoes. Again…bad mommy. She starts having a meltdown about how she doesn’t want to wear those shoes…she wants to wear her Vans. So I run upstairs for like the 15th time this morning and can’t find them. I call Mike and he tells me they are on top of the entertainment center. Weird place for shoes but that’s where they were.

I’m finally going to get out the door. I’ve got her lunchpail, my purse, keys…and I’m ready to go. Then she wants me to carry her to the car. If you know my child, she’s an oversized 3 1/2 year old. She’s not fat…not by any means but my husband’s mission of breeding the shortness out of The Busbea’s went well and she’s over half the size of me and I’m carrying a bunch of crap. I may have snapped at this point. I may have said, “For the love of God Ava!!!!!!!!!!” This led to more crying. So I put all the stuff in the car, go back and carry her to the car and we’re on our way.

I call my friend Heather to complain about what a crappy morning I’m having and I think I said something like, “I just get so pissed when my mornings start this way.” Ava yells from the backseat, “MOM, WE DON’T SAY THAT WORD!” And all I could think was, “Who taught her that “pissed” is a bad word?” I’m quickly running out of words to say so I’ve stopped telling her which ones are bad so I don’t get reprimanded.

This has got to be my longest post yet but seriously…for all you people out there without kids, this is why parents are often late. Because some things are out of our control. It takes twice as long to do pretty much anything when you’ve got a little one in tow. And I’ve had people say, “Well, just make them.” All the parents out there are chuckling at that I’m sure. So my response is, “Let me know how that works out for you when your time comes.”

Dalla Mia Cucina al Vostro

25 May

I have no idea if that translation is correct…I have a 3rd generation Italian husband but unfortunately, when his grandparents came over from Italy, it was looked down upon to be Italian here in the good ole US of A. So instead of speaking Italian, they spoke only English and when they did speak Italian it was to talk over the kids’ heads. So now I have to rely on http://www.freetranslation.com/ to translate for me. True story.

So it’s supposed to translate to “From My Kitchen to Yours” and the only part I’m sure is correct is “cucina.” I’ve been to Olive Garden enough times to know that. On a side note, if you eat at the Olive Garden you have to get the boat of alfredo sauce to dip your breadsticks in. And my best advice is not to share it with anyone else…for real. It’s the only time I’m totally okay with being rude to everyone else at the table. I may even announce it when we’re ordering that if anyone wants alfredo sauce they may want to order it. And someone always says, “I’ll just have some of yours.” And I say, “Actually…you won’t.” Everyone laughs so I then have to say, “No…I’m not joking.” I’m almost positive they put something in it because I’ll share my brownie with you before I’ll let you touch my alfredo sauce.

Wow…I think I need to get checked for ADD or something because here I am in the 3rd paragraph and none of you have any idea what the hell I’m talking about or why I needed that translation. Soooooo…every now and then I cook something up that is insanely delicious and super easy. For all my friends out there who find it hard to get dinner on the table in under 15 minutes, you HAVE to try this recipe. Extra bonus is it’s 264 calories per serving. No joke. Make it. Eat it. You’re welcome!

Italian Eggs Over Spinach and Polenta
4 servings

1 (16 oz) tube of polenta, cut into 12 slices
Cooking spray (I used olive oil spray because Pam spray tastes like fish. Don’t believe me? Spray it in your mouth and let me know.)
2 cups fat-free tomato basil pasta sauce
1 (6 oz) package fresh baby spinach
4 large eggs
1/2 cup shredded Asiago cheese

Preheat broiler.

Arrange polenta slices on a baking sheet coated with cooking spray. Coat tops of polenta with cooking spray. Broil 3 minutes or until thoroughly heated. (Because my oven sucks, it took me 10 minutes of broiling).

While polenta heats, bring sauce to a simmer in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Stir in spinach; cover and cook for 1 minute or until spinach wilts. Stir to combine. Make 4 indentations in top of spinach mixture. Break 1 egg into each indentation. Cover, reduced heat, and simmer for 5 minutes or until eggs are desired degree of goodness…haha…meant to type “doneness” but thought the slip was hilarious. Goodness…doneness…who cares!!! Sprinkle with cheese. Place 3 polenta slices on each plate; top each serving with 1/4 spinach mixture and 1 egg.

Nutritional Info (because I’m bored)
Calories 264
Fat 8.8 grams
Carbs 29.4 grams
Protein 15.4 grams

I know you all really appreciate the preciseness of the grams.

Arrivederci!!!

Careful What You Ask…

22 May

This morning Ava and I are all snuggled up in bed and we’re talking. She tells me I’m the sweetest mommy in the whole world and that she loves me so much. I ask her how much she loves me to which she replies, “I love you more than the sun, the moon, the stars, all of the galaxies, the light, hair, the galaxies, the planets and cogulyloo.” Don’t worry, I have no idea what cogulyloo is either and hair…well, that’s another post all by itself.

Realizing that she didn’t say she loved me more than her two favorite things, I thought I’d ask. Some of you may already be chuckling. Her two favorite things are her Mickey doll and her pacifier. So I grab Mickey and pull the pacifier out of her mouth and ask, “If you had to pick Mickey, Mommy or paci, which one do you love the most?” She grabs Mickey! In my head I’m thinking maybe she doesn’t understand the question. So I try to clarify for her. “So you love Mickey more than you love Mommy?” She replies, “Yup.”

Since I already feel insulted I decide there’s no point in stopping here. It’s down to me and the pacifier and I’m determined to be more appealing than an orange plastic sucky thing. I have to admit I’m a little nervous at this point. I don’t know if I can take 3rd place. So I ask, “Well, if you had to pick between paci and Mommy, which one would you pick?” She said me. But then quickly went on to say, “Me, Mickey, paci and you are one big, happy family.” Now I’m screwed. Our family picture from last year has Mickey in it and I’m cool with that. However, I don’t know how to incorporate a pacifier into the family. Do I give it it’s own stool in the portrait? I always have anxiety about what to dress us in, and the last thing I need to worry about is trying to find an outfit for an orange pacifier….can you imagine?

Experience

18 May

I have a big problem with unsolicited advice. I do. Most of the time I just let it roll off my back because people are entitled to opinions and God knows everyone has one when it comes to parenting. I’m not even sure where this particular rant is coming from. But what I can’t stand more than unsolicited advice is people who have not yet experienced something and then want to tell you how they would handle it. Ummm, no. I’m not saying you have to go through something to understand it, or be empathetic about it. But the advice from inexperienced people is devoid of emotional involvement. It’s also devoid of trial and error.

Oh I remember the judgemental days before I got pregnant and how I would sit back and watch pregnant women and make my lists of everything they weren’t doing right. Because I knew better than them right? Having gone throught it myself…oh wait…that’s right…I wasn’t pregnant yet. But I remember the moments where I’d see a pregnant woman eating sushi. Off with her head!!! How can she put her baby at risk like that? Wow…just remembering that makes me want to smack the shit out of myself. Oh and I was only going to gain 25 lbs because I was going to have self control. Again…experience reminds me that there is no self-control when the only thing your unborn daughter wants is chili-cheese fries from Del Taco and a jar of Nutella. I swear you guys…it had to specifically be Del Taco chili-cheese fries or I was going to pay in ways that I won’t share.

Oh and then came the days when people I knew had babies and I judged them. Yup…sure did. Co-sleeping??? Do you want to kill your child???? I would NEVER do that!!! Cry-it-out method…that’s the only way to go!!! You’re not breastfeeding??? How could you not want what’s best for your child??? You were an emotional wreck the first few weeks??? Wow, I would never be so sad after having a baby!!! Oh boy…if anyone out there wants to smack me right now, I know exactly how you feel. Again…overcome with the urge to smack myself. I’m just being honest here. I was so, so, so judgemental because I was devoid of emotional involvment and I had not yet experienced it.

Becoming a parent is a very humbling experience. That’s the best word I can use to describe it. I felt like a complete asshole for all the horrible judgement I passed on people. Because in hindsight, I had zero knowledge or experience in dealing with what they were dealing with. And I guess that’s my point. It is so much easier to judge someone for something when you’ve never experienced it yourself and when you’re not involved emotionally. There are alot of times in my life when I’ve judged people for things and looking back, I wish that I’d been a little more compassionate…a litttle less narrow-minded that my way was the right way. I probably could have learned alot from the people I was passing judgement on. And really, that’s a big part of parenting. You collectively share knowledge about what works for you, what doesn’t and your friends do the same. And at the end of it, you take with you what might work and leave behind what won’t.

**Proof reading this I mistyped and apparently Ava craved chili-cheese FRIENDS. Oh dear!