Rules: Add your caption in the comments. Best caption wins…nothing. But, hey, it could be fun!
Twin #1: Does this mustache make me look fat? Twin #2: No, but your hat does.
Archive | December, 2011
Quick Giggle: Safety Dance
30 DecThe 2 minutes and 24 seconds encompassed in this video contain 47 different shades of bizarre. I know, because I counted.
Strangely enough, according to Pantone – whoever that is – Tangerine Tango is going to be 2012′s hottest color. It’s also a color prominently featured in this music video. I can’t decide if that adds another shade of bizarre to the whole thing, or if it takes a shade away.
At any rate, I’d like to say thank you, 80′s, for giving us so much fodder for giggling. And for teaching us that dancing is a make-or-break fundamental foundation of friendship.
Happy Hausfrau: Sweetened Condensed Milk
29 DecClick to check out Anne Taintor's fab artwork!
It was a holiday emergency.
The Happy Hausfrau, preparing to make her hubby’s favorite Christmastime treat, realized she had forgotten one item at the store. The store that, though open, was teeming with last minute shoppers jacked up on caffeine and misplaced holiday spirit. She did not want to brave that storm.
“Sweetened condensed milk…sweetened condensed milk,” she muttered to herself while staring vainly in her pantry, wishing very much that she was Mrs. Weasley, who was sure to have a spell that could create sweetened condensed milk out of thin air. She stomped her foot a little, thinking that being a Muggle definitely had some serious disadvantages.
The clock was ticking. A mob of family members with zombie-like hunger for sweets and booze would soon be ringing the doorbell and storming the kitchen, leaving nothing in their wake but crumbs, dirty dishes, empty bottles, and creepy Uncle Joe passed out under the kitchen table. The Happy Hausfrau knew she needed to find a substitute. Fast.
After taking a brief, but oh-so-necessary moment to adjust her holiday apron and re-apply her devastatingly red lipstick, the Happy Hausfrau perched in front of her computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. A small, sly smile crossed her face as she read. She may not be Mrs. Weasley, but she had one thing Mrs. Weasley didn’t:
Google.
Okay, maybe two things:
Google and scotch.
She typed and clicked, sipped and searched until she found exactly what she needed:
Rejoice! Christmas Eve, and the Happy Hausfrau’s husband’s favorite treat (the unfortunately named ‘Fudge Puddles’) were saved!
The Unfortunately-Named 'Fudge Puddles'
Recipe: Homemade Sweetened Condensed Milk
2 Eggs
1 C. Brown Sugar
1 tsp. Vanilla
2 Tbsp. Flour
1/2 tsp. Baking Powder
1/4 tsp. Salt
Mix all ingredients well; use as a substitute for sweetened condensed milk in recipes for pies, bars, and desserts.
In the Nick of Time…New Year’s Resolutions Unveiled
28 DecI’ve struggled whether or not to publicly declare my New Year’s resolutions. I’m a giant commitment-phobe, and the thought of saying “Hey, look at what I’m gonna do!” to anybody other than my son’s stuffed whale (the only person I tell all my secrets, hopes, and dreams to), has me breaking out in a cold sweat. Because if anybody besides me or Whale knows my intentions for the next year, I might actually have to follow through on them, or face the embarrassment of failure.
Blech. Forget it. I’m ending this post now, right now. *runs from the room screaming* *trips on something in the hallway* (Whale is on the floor, staring up at me with his dark, soulful eyes) *sighs heavily, picks up Whale, and shuffles back to the computer*
Okay, I’m back. So. New Year’s resolutions. Here they are:
(1) I’m not going to nit-pick my body. I’ve been blessed with excellent health, am in the process of making my fourth child…this body has been good to me. Do I have stretch-marks? Yep. Are my arms and tummy flabbier than I would like? Yep. Do I sometimes still get a zit or two? Yep. But this body has been good to me. Time for me to return the favor. I’m going to use it. I’m going to sweat, and breathe deeply, and sometimes, I’m going to be sore. But through the process of getting back into shape after this last baby, I’m not going to nit-pick my body. I’m not going to imagine what it would look like without the battle-wounds childbearing often places on a woman’s body – instead, I’m going to cherish those reminders of the three (soon to be four) most amazing children any parent has ever been blessed with. Children who exist because I’ve been blessed with a body that could carry and nurture them to term.
(2) I’m going to admit that I’m a writer. This is a silly little thing that shouldn’t be difficult, but is. There’s this little irritating voice in the back of my head that says I should wait until I’m published; but this little ‘pastime’ of mine has quickly evolved into something that’s no longer a hobby…no sane person would spend this much time, effort, emotion, tears, determination, and did I say time, on a hobby. I’m a writer. It’s what I do. I may not be the best writer on the planet. Heck, I may not even be a good writer, yet. But I’m a writer, working hard every single day to be a little better at it than I was the day before.
(3) I will finish my first book this year. I will allow myself to put an end to the edits, to the modifications, to the obsessive going over, and over, and over each page, and be done with it. I will allow myself to finish working on it, and be proud of it. I will set a deadline, and meet it. Suck on that, commitment-phobia!
(4) I will play. With my kids, with the hubster, with my friends. I will make time to romp, to laugh, to be frivolous, to be loud and live with mirth. I will not get so caught up in my own life that I forget to enjoy the lives of those I love.
That’s it. That’s what I’m planning for this year. The over-achiever in me says the list is too short. The commitment-phobe says it’s too long. The tiny little part of my brain that is actually sane says it’s just right.
How about you, dear friendlies? Do you make New Year’s resolutions? Or do they scare the shiza out of you? Or both?
The Death of a New Year’s Repeat
26 DecNew Year’s resolutions give me the heeby-jeebies. Big time. And yet, every year, I find myself making them. And breaking them, almost immediately. It’s a sickness. Someone should make a pill for it.
For the past, oh, I don’t know, say gazillion years, one of my New Year’s resolutions involves running. That I’m going to start running. Keep running. Find my stride. Enter races. Place in said races.
*Enter daydream sequence here* Que music: Chariots of Fire, of course. It’s a rainy race day; but true athlete that I am, no amount of drizzle will keep me from putting one foot in front of the other in an effort to be the very best I can be. The finish-line ribbon is just ahead. So is one other runner. Some Amazon with long, sculpted legs of steel. She looks like she was bred to run. She’s probably been running since infancy. She doesn’t know how hard I’ve worked; she can’t understand the obstacles I’ve had to overcome (yes, in my daydream, sheer laziness is a plague one cannot blame oneself for; it’s simply a mountain to climb. I told you this is a sickness). My legs pump faster, harder. I cross the finish line first, barely. My opponent weeps out of joy for me.
Seriously. This daydream has to be brought on by some kind of chemical imbalance. Big pharma, where are you when I need you?
Anyway…
I used to run. Two miles every day in high school through my first year of college. I loved running. Not because I was good at it, or fast…oh, no. Not at all. In fact, I believe my running style could best be described as Drunk girl slowly being chased by no one. But it was just me, solitary, on some lonely country road in south-central middle-of-nowhere Kansas. Endless skies. Dusty gravel. Pretty, simple country birds. Cows. Sometimes a tractor or truck would pass by. But it was such a quiet, simple place to be. I’ve never loved running because of how I felt doing it; I’ve loved it because it was a way to be totally, utterly alone.
These days, I’m never really alone. It’s not for lack of opportunity – the hubster is awesome about letting me have ‘me’ time whenever I want/need it. I don’t take him up on it as often as I should – not because it’s something I don’t want, but because I find when I am alone, I still can’t shut off. I can’t get there like I used to. I can’t find a way to get to that flat-line buzz I used to have all those years ago, as a teenager running alone in the country. Maybe that’s one of the caveats to being a grown-up: you can never fully shut off like you could when you were younger. Too many burdens in daily life to accomplish it.
This year is nearly finished. I’m going to turn thirty-three in a few days. And I’m thinking, once again, about what I want this next year to look like. I know I’ll find my way to New Year’s resolutions; it’s compulsive, I can’t help it. And running will probably make its way onto the list again. Not as an ill-fated foray into escapism, but as a means to other ends (namely, shedding baby weight after #4 comes in April). Because I think I may have finally come to terms with the fact that the thing that I was striding for in running is something that’s out of my grasp…something I’ve lost in my adulthood, that has its place only in childhood – that short, short time of life when trouble can be forgotten by simply putting one foot in front of the other.
I know that sounds like a dark and gloomy place to start the new year, but really, I don’t feel that way. I’m as hopeful about this coming year as any other that has passed. I’m just done chasing that particular rainbow. I may never be able to travel through this life without the burdens adulthood places on my shoulders, but I’m strong enough to carry them. I don’t need to escape them. And that feels pretty good – recognizing my own strength, and not shrinking away from life and the curveballs it’s guaranteed to throw at me on more than one occasion during the next 370-some-odd days.
I want to hear about you, sweet friendlies. Does the year’s-end prompt introspection in you? Are you replacing New Year’s resolution repeats with newer, improved resolutions? Don’t be shy!
LEAVE A CAPTION SATURDAY
24 DecRules: Add your caption in the comments. Best caption wins…nothing. But, hey, it could be fun!
Timmy: ”Stand tall, Sarah. Stand tall.”
Sarah: ”What does it look like I’m doing, idiot? Squatting?”
Happy Hausfrau: Unleash the Power of Grapefruit
21 DecI’m many things – a wife, a mom, a writer, a teacher, a cook. But I’m also a housewife. And I don’t want to be a crappy housewife (a little nod to one of the crappiest songs – and videos – of 2011. Seriously, it makes Rebecca Black’s Friday sound like something Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote).
I’m always on the lookout for things that will help me do the hausfrau part of my life a little better. After more than ten years at it, I’ve grown very fond of certain kinds of things. Things that are useful. Things that are simple. Things that are green, that I don’t have to be afraid of storing under my kitchen sink where eager, small hands can find them. And swallow them. Nobody wants their kids to swallow this:
Over the years, I’ve developed a fondness for trying new things, even if they seem a little off at first. Even if the hubster doubles over with laughter in the grocery store when I tell him I’m buying grapefruit to clean the bathrooms with.
Him: You’re buying grapefruit why, again?
Me: To scrub the bathroom sinks and tubs. The kitchen, too.
Him: With a grapefruit?
Me: Yes. And salt.
Him: A grapefruit and salt?
Me: Yes. I don’t like the way the cleaners smell.
Him: Your smeller’s broken.
Me: Shut up. I’m very busy and important. (Stomps off toward the baking aisle in search of salt)
Right. So, here it is. The other day, I was cruising through the ginormous time-waster that is Pinterest, and came across this blog, which detailed how to clean your bathtub with nothing but a grapefruit, salt, and some elbow grease. It immediately piqued my interest because (a) totally safe and green cleaning alternatives get my blood pumping, and (b) I cannot tolerate the smell of any cleaners thanks to the preggers hormones that have made my sense of smell as strong as a bloodhound’s. I decided immediately I would try it.
I did a couple things differently than the tutorial. First of all, they let their bathtub go uncleaned for a month. Ew. Ew, ew, ew. I can’t do that. Just thinking about it eebs me out, big time. *shivers* Secondly, I used the salt I had on hand. No idea if it was kosher or not.
Okay. Here’s what I started with:
One grapefruit, halved. Salt, poured into a bowl. I didn’t measure it. I just poured what I thought I’d need.
I started with the kitchen sink as a test. I dipped the grapefruit in the bowl, sprinkled salt around the sink, and got to scrubbing, ‘juicing’ the grapefruit as I went. The salt and the grapefruit juice mixes to form a kind of grimy paste, and it scrubs beautifully. Once the sink and fixtures were scrubbed, I rinsed them and dried them off. Sparkly and clean!
But I was still a little skeptical. My kitchen sink gets scrubbed several times a day (OCD much?), so it was time to move onto something a little more challenging. I moved upstairs to my bathroom. Even though we scrub our tubs once a week, I had noticed a couple days a go a little bit of mildew growing in some of the grout of the tile in my shower.
I went to town on it, and was amazed at how well it cleaned! Same deal – dipped the grapefruit in salt, sprinkled salt around the tub, and scrubbed. This time I simply wiped down the walls and tub with a damp rag. It was amazing to see how the mildew and soap scum came right up. Added bonus, when I was all done, I chopped the grapefruit and sent it through the garbage disposal. Now my kitchen smells delicious.
I’m so stoked about this one, you guys! Not only does it work (take that, T-man), but it works well, is totally green, and is budget friendly. I cleaned my kitchen sink and two bathrooms (not the toilets) with one grapefruit and about a 1/4 cup of salt. Here’s the price layout:
1 bag of grapefruit (about 10 in a bag) $4.00
1 container of salt (I’m guessing about 2 C. of salt in each container) $.50
I can clean 8 kitchen sinks, 16 bathrooms, and have a couple grapefruits left over to eat, for $4.50. Not too shabby!
The Happy Hausfrau tried it so you don’t have to…but this is one cleaning alternative you should totally give a try!
LEAVE A CAPTION SATURDAY
17 DecRules: Add your caption in the comments. Best caption wins…nothing. But, hey, it could be fun!
“Okay, I’ve got the gloves on. Now you want me to do what?!“
