Snack Time!

Along about 3pm comes Snack Time in my house. It’s a real event that merits lots of excitement. The children and I take our places around the kitchen table and enjoy a little “smackrel of something” as Pooh Bear would say.
I always try to come up with something different, and hopefully halfway healthy. As with all avenues of food prep there are hits and misses. Yesterday’s was a hit. I present to you, blueberries and goat cheese on Saltine crackers:

I used about 20 lightly mashed blueberries and an ounce of goat cheese and it made about 6 crackers. You could definitely class it up by using a different kind of cracker. I used Saltines because I have about 600 of them in my pantry.
Anyway, yeah. That was a hit. Next time I’ll share one of my “miss” snacks. They’re equally entertaining.

Can I hold the baby?!

This past weekend I went to a certain delicious Mexican restaurant with my husband and children. The place with the salsa that will make you reconsider your life priorities. I accidentally ate 4 servings of chips, using them as a vehicle to get the salsa into my mouth. Unfortunate for my sodium intake. The waiter sent me home with 2 souffle cups full, which are still sitting in my fridge because I can’t decide how to use them. Nothing seems worthy enough.

Anyway, this is not supposed to be about the salsa.

This is about what happened as we were on our way out of the restaurant and passed a table of ladies of varying ages who wanted to have a look at our 11-month old, Juliette. This is nothing new, as any parent of a baby will tell you, especially with baby girls, they are something of a conversation piece. Women, men, teens, the elderly…it’s very sweet and I love it. But this time, as we’re walking by, one of the ladies (maybe the Grandma) says “Let’s have a look at the baby!”. When I turn to her, she has her arms outstretched toward me. It becomes clear she’s emphasizing the word “have”.

Now I’ve been in this situation twice before. And both times I did the wrong thing. Once when my son was an infant, at a restaurant, I handed him to a friend while I ate. The waitress decided she wanted to hold him and plucked him from my friend’s arms and carried him away to show the other servers. I had to chase her down and snatch him back. Yes, my friend felt bad. The other time was when Juliette was maybe 6 months old. We were at a party for my husband’s work and a fellow co-worker of his flat out asked me if he could hold her. I reluctantly handed her over, because what am I going to say? I spent the next 10 minutes standing about six inches away from him making small talk, thinking of nothing except taking my baby back.

So of course I did not hand my daughter to this woman at the Mexican restaurant. I did what any respectable lady would do and I pretended I didn’t hear her. Would it have been okay? Probably. It’s not like she could’ve made a run for it without being caught by myself, my husband, or the restaurant staff. She was probably just a sweet old lady who wanted to hold a baby. It’s sad that the first things I think of when interacting with new people are the dangers the interaction might hold, but I watch the Today show… that’s the world we live in, right?

Sandwich Infidelity

I love, love, love Firehouse Subs. Just wanted to get that out there. Oddly, I used to really dislike it. When I lived in Tallahassee for college we would occasionally end up there for meals and I would for some reason, always get the meatball sub. I love a good meatball sub, but in my opinion Firehouse does a bad meatball sub. I think it might be because I like a generous helping of marinara sauce, and tend to get stabby if I’m jipped in that area. A dry meatball sub is just an insult. But, I kept trying each time, thinking this would be the time I would get an acceptable meatball sub. It never happened. Anyway, with the help of an old co-worker who took me to Firehouse one day insisting she had the perfect sub for me, I finally found it. The Italian, with chopped pickles. Ohh it’s so good. You have to insist on the chopped pickles; it isn’t the same without them. Beware, they cost an additional 60 cents. I’ve been getting this little gem for about 8 years or so, and it’s never a disappointment.

So…all this to say, I’m feeling a little guilty. Last weekend I cheated on my Italian w/ pickles. I ate the King’s Hawaiian Pork/Slaw deal. I was weak.

I won’t deny…it was good. The Hawaiian roll and the slaw were amazing. The pork could have been leaner and more shredded, but that’s probably my guilt talking. Was it worth the over 1000 calories and 63 grams of fat for this sandwich alone? Maybe not. I’ll be happily running back to my Pickle Italian, which I’ll admit is not much better in terms of the bad stuff. But it’s oh so worth it.

Are you still there? I am.

Well. Hello there!

So it’s 2012, in case you weren’t sure. Almost 3 years after my last blog post. Not sure what exactly happened after that last post. Amnesia? Depression that no one besides my mother ever commented (I love you Ma!)? I appear to have completely forgotten that I even had a blog.

I’m really sad to have lost documentation of the last 3 years. I could’ve had a real nice little diary to look back on. From continuing the journey of trying to sell our house to finally deciding to let go and call Texas our home. Finding an amazing church home and reconnecting with God. My husband finding and devoting his life to the Lord, and thriving in his career. Our son growing into the vibrant 4 year old he is today. The birth of our daughter, who is a month away from her first birthday.

Our cat still vomits on the floor. But now we have wood, so it’s not so bad. Plus strangers no longer traipse through our house regularly, so I don’t care if she does. I once again deal with occasionally stinky cloth diapers, but there was like 2 years there where they were all packed away in a closet and I didn’t have that problem. Unfortunately you missed that. I’m still painfully cheap. I have aged 3 years but amazingly, have retained much of my charm. See, in many ways life is just as it was.