Stuff my kid won't eat, volume 2

This is Carter.




Carter won't eat waffles with whipped cream.



Carter deems all foods that touch whipped cream inedible.

He's two.

He had no idea that this plan is stupid.

Carter gazes out of the window, longing to escape his whipped cream prison.



Carter drowns his sorrows in milk.






The reprieve is only temporary though.



The longing continues...

Stuff my kid won't eat: Volume 1

This is Carter.
He won't eat zucchini.




He won't eat zucchini sautéed in butter.

He won't eat zucchini drizzled with olive oil.

He won't eat zucchini with ravioli.

He won't eat ravioli.

He will eat blueberries.

He will eat zucchini in a blueberry smoothie.

I win.

Lets celebrate with leather!

Happy anniversary to us! Me and my hubs "us", not you and me "us". We'll celebrate you and me "us" later.

Also, our anniversary is tomorrow, but we're celebrating all weekend so get ready for a love fest, folks.

Starting now...click...seriously
Best video of all time...or best wedding video ever.

Third anniversaries are for giving leather, apparently. Normally this would mean wallets? Shoes? Hideous leather housewares? But coming off a year of Fifty Shades, the 3rd Anniversary is probably more exciting than usual. Not for us though. Nope. When is the vanilla anniversary? Too far?

Chi-YEAH! Makin' Berry & Blossom Chia Jam

SUGAR FREE CHIA JAM MADE WITH BLACKBERRIES AND THYME BLOSSOMS! YAY!!!




(Whoa, slow down. I'm excited for food. Let me start again from a calmer place)

Well, hello. Have you been outside lately? It's freaking lovely out there. At least here in Vegas. Sorry if you live some place where you have to like, scrape ice off your windshield or, I don't know, wear a coat? Honestly though, don't be too jealous of our sunshine. It's going to be boiling lava hot in about a month. Probably earlier. We get about two weeks of decent weather in the Spring and again in the Fall, in between the times where it's one thousand degrees outside and when it's flipping freezing. Don't worry though, it's also broken up by apocalyptic wind storms that are super fun.

Anyhow, we've been playing outside, and gardening, and all sorts of good weather activities. We've also been experimenting with "time out"...

...which is bullshit.

I'm sure it will work in the long run, but right now is not the time to sell me on the virtues of time out. Ugh. I'm frustrated just writing about that. So, my child is super interested in doing jerk things with his plastic golf clubs. These range from hitting small dogs, throwing clubs into the pond, and clubbing the flowers that are doing their best to survive in this desert. Hence, time out.

In between time outs we've been picking flowers, pruning the roses, training the trumpet vines, and all around torturing the flowers. I wonder why Carter thinks bashing the foliage is the plan? Huh. I have been eyeing the French Thyme and wondering, what I can do with all the little blooms that are exploding off of the carpet of Thyme under the roses. I already snipped the blooms off of the chives and drowned those suckers in white balsamic. I'll show you the glory that is Chive Blossom Vinegar when it's ready in a few weeks. I decided that the thyme blooms would be perfect with some berries. Right?! Yeah, that plan evolved into some super yummy jam. It's my new jam. I said that in my head like it's my new jam. Like my slow jam. Like how Poison by Bel Biv Devoe is my jam.

Jam.




It's sugar free, crap free, bug free, since I rinsed the thyme like a fancy lady. Like, how a fancy lady would rinse herbs, not how I'd rinse a fancy lady. Thought I should clear that up before we move on.

This recipe requires you to remove the tiny little thyme blossoms off the thyme heads. Thymes heads? Does that make sense? Ok. Rip off flowers. Huh, another mixed message to my toddler. That kid has got to be so damned confused.

Here's what you need:

10 oz. Frozen Blackberries (about 1.5 C)

1/4 C Xylitol (or another sweetener, but Xylitol really works here, but it's good for your teeth)

4-5 Sprigs of Thyme with Blossoms

1-2 T Thyme Blossoms removed from the springs

1T Water

1/4 t Vanilla

2 T Milled Chia (you can use chia seeds, but the milled stuff keeps the texture more jam-ish, I like it both ways)

Here's what the thyme blooms look like in the wild,




You're going to want to pull those sucker's heads off. It's going to take awhile and you're going to have to be very careful and not completely kill those poor abused flowers. It's fine if you have lots of green when you remove them. No biggie. Go ahead and pluck a good amount. A tablespoon or two-ish.




I rinsed the sprigs first and that made the pluckin' a little tough. Wet blooms stick to your fingers. Next time I'll either let them dry first or I'll just not wash it. What? Like it's going to kill me? No. (Said the dead fancy lady)

So, thaw your berries in a small pot over medium heat with the lid on. Go ahead and throw the 4-5 sprigs in at this point. You can add them near the end if you're worried about too much Thyme-y-ness in the jam.




Once the berries are thawed and getting warm and watery, add the xylitol, vanilla and water. Stir it up and simmer, uncovered, for 5-10 minutes. Go a little longer if it's too watery, just to reduce it down a bit.




Mash the berries a bit with either a potato masher or a fork or something until you have a good consistency for jam. This is going to vary for everyone, but don't mash it to crap. Just a bit to release the juice and avoid gigantor chucks in your jam. Be gentle.




Add the chia and stir it into your jam. If you decide to use the seeds instead, you're going to need to play with the amount here. I'd probably stick to the same amount, maybe 1 more tablespoon. So, 3 tablespoons?
Let it simmer a few. Remove from heat and cool in the pot to allow it to thicken partially.

Fold the blossoms into the jam, very gently. Although the blooms are super cute and pretty, they're going to get engulfed by jam. They were pretty while they lasted, but their flavor will live on.




RIP Thyme Blossoms

That's it. Put it in a mason jar, or jars, and stick it in the fridge to cool and thicken fully. The chia makes it get all gelatinous. It's pretty cool.




Obviously this isn't like normal preserves. Well, I guess you could "jar" it, but that's too much for me today. Time out has exhausted me, guys.

We use this to flavor our Greek Yogurt. If we ate bread we'd eat it bread. Carter eats it with almond butter in a sandwich, that he eats crust first and leaves the middle?!? What the hell is that about? Bizarro child and his bizarro kid cuisine.

I was going to chit-chat about the virtues and accolades of CHIA!!!
But those exclamation points are about all the attention that chia will get in this blog, as I'm hearing all sort of things fly out of my kid's crib and, unless I want the next thing to fly out to be him, I'd better go get him from his nap.

Mmmm...nap.

Chia is incredible. Trust me. Eat it. Sing the song. Eat some more.

The Greeks invented yogurt!

I can't think of Greek Yogurt without quoting My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Is that bad? I wonder if that pisses Greek people off. I hope not, because I enjoy doing it.

So, I've been experimenting with making Greek yogurt because,
A, we eat a ton of it
B, it's hard to find the full fat/high protein kind, because this country's obsession with low-fat-ness is crazy bananas.
C, I'm a control freak who insists on controlling yogurt ingredients

...and all ingredients

...and all things pertaining to most things.

Hello, nice to meet you. Please don't judge me.

So, I pinned all sorts of yogurty pins and combined multiple methods to start my first experiment. It came out really yummy, but the protein content wasn't high and the carbs were higher than I wanted. I noticed that Fage Full Fat Greek Yogurt is magically higher in protein than the others...or other, as it were. Low and behold, their ingredients said milk AND cream, not just milk. Mystery solved. Hooray. Also, I've heard from others that their homemade stuff comes out really thin or tangy, which is not the case with this one. I attribute that to the cream, powdered WHOLE milk, and the cultures I used. The max ratio of cream:milk is 1:1, but decreasing the cream may be the way to go next time, only for caloric concerns. Not taste. Oh, no no no. It's tasty.

So, I bring you yogurt that's full of good fat and protein and it's freaking delicious and creamy and not too tangy and amazing and I want to bathe in it.

Yella's Yogurt:

4c Heavy Whipping Cream (preferably carageenan free)
4c Whole milk
1/4 Powdered Whole Milk (amazon)
A packet of yogurt culture/starter*

A big pot with a lid, a foodish type thermometer (candy thermometer), a big towel

* I ordered a Yogurt starter on amazon, but you can also use existing yogurt you have in the fridge or whatever. I think it's 1/4c added at the same time you'd add the cultures (temper it with the milk before you add it to be safe)

** I used organic milk and cream. Not sure if it makes a difference. The whole powdered milk may be substituted for non fat powdered milk, which you can buy at the grocery. Might not matter? Haven't tested it.

Heat your milk and cream in your big pot over medium heat to 185.
Stir, don't let it burn.

Once it's at 185, turn off the heat and cool to 112 (105-112 is the range I think).

Stir in powdered milk.




Add your cultures/starter/yogurt. Mine needed 2 minutes to rehydrate before I gave it a stir.

Stir.

Put a lid on it.

Wrap your pot up in a towel like a newborn baby yogurt.

Stick your yogurt baby in the oven (it's off, don't worry you didn't miss a step) with the oven light turned on.

Leave it alone for 8-12 hours. Seriously. Leave it the eff alone, no peeking. I do it at night, and I do it for 12-14 hours. The longer it sits, the thicker it gets.

Cool in fridge for awhile.
Yogurt.

For Greek style yogurt, put a mesh strainer over a deep bowl, line the strainer with cheesecloth, pour in your yogurt, and let it rest and cool for like 4 or more hours.
Greek Yogurt.



The Greek stuff measures out to about 5 cups.




You can flavor it however you'd like, of course, but it's best to make it plain and then start flavoring when you're done. I add some liquid flavored stevia (vanilla, lemon, english toffee and some chopped apples and cinnamon, coconut and fresh strawberries...am I still in parenthesis) and sugar free jam. Nature's Hollow makes a good one that's crap-free and sweetened with xylitol (a natural sugar alcohol). It's also stupid expensive, so I make my own, either with xylitol and fruit pectin (easy) or chia (even easier). I've also add peanut butter and cocoa powder with some vanilla stevia and it's effing delicious.




If your worried about fat and calories and what not this is not for you, my friend. I only avoid starches and sugars, but fat is welcome at my yogurt party. Which is good, because have you had fat lately? It's fantastic. Next batch I may try a different cream:milk ratio to see how that works. Evidently all sorts of other things start with this method of yogurt making. Sour cream, cheese...hmmm, other stuff? I don't know. It escapes me at the moment, but you know, stuff.

Use it in dressings. Use it as sour cream. Use it in smoothies.

Yogurt!!!

3 is the magic number

Oh yeah, it is. It's the magic number. (How awesome is the Blind Melon version of this, right?!)
So, as much as I love 3, I should probably report on some Birthday #2 stuff before Carter's 3rd Birthday. But since he is in fact 2 years old, I am constantly keeping him from destroying himself, and the house, and the dog, and the world. So, I wanted to do a quick post with some photos, to be followed up later today...or tomorrow, with more Nacho-ness.








Yeah, that's all I've got. Nap time is coming.

How 'bout eggs?

'Member that one time my camera held my delicious eggs hostage and I had to negotiate with it to get them in my blog and I was all,

"we don't negotiate with cameras",

and it was all, "then say goodbye to your precious eggs",

and I was like, "what the fuck am I doing talking to a camera?"

No?

Oh, ok. Well, anyways, here they are in their delicious glory of last week. I miss them already, even though I never sampled their glory.
Fine! One! I had one and gained a pound. Are you happy?



They were so pretty. And delicious. We need another reason to celebrate with eggs. Ovulation party? Coop unveiling? Ok, I'll keep trying. To refresh your memory, this is a variation of this recipe that I saw on Pinterest that I decided to make super festive for the egg appropriate holiday. Make 'em. You don't even have to put all that much effort into them. Make balls, dip in chocolate, done. Gain a pound...or nine. Totally worth it.






Please excuse the crap photos. It was dark by the time I got around to taking pictures, because of course it was, it took all day. Also, my camera is a jerk along with being a shitty negotiator. It definitely has nothing to do with my inferior amateur faux-tog skills, so don't think about that as a reason they look like...

...HEY look over there!

Catching up with the doing of things, so more posts of "stuff" to come. Luchadors, unicorns, easter. You know, stuff.

Rich mom, poor mom

I wrote this last week and I was a little nervous to post it, but you know, whatever. Watch out for the wind, I threw some caution in it.
So, I read this article. And it just...rubbed me the wrong way. There are some totally valid points, I think, but it just got me thinking about all sorts of groan-inducing opinions I've heard of late and instead if being a crazy Facebook commenter, I thought I'd spare the world and free-style here in my bubble.
The article talks about the fallacy of the increased trend of "opt-out" moms, who are educated, higher income moms who chose staying home over careers. It addresses that the majority of stay at home moms have to stay home because their potential earnings don't allow them to pay for child care, and that they're high school educated or less and surviving on less than $25,000 a year. Somehow it also downplays the accomplishments of opt-out moms, because they have chosen to stay home while others are forced to. I hate to get on my soap box on this one, but fuck if I'm not pissed off...kinda.
"Opt-out" moms may be the minority, but what this article needs to address is that these moms "opted-in" on education & other life-changing decisions earlier in life, which gave them the option to opt-out, a "luxury" that has been afforded to them because of the decisions they made. Educated moms and moms who have a higher household income are obviously going to have different options and lives from their less educated and lower income counterparts, regardless as to whether they stay home with kids or have amazing careers. Elitist or not, it holds true that educated women will probably have much different careers than uneducated women, but doesn't the same fact carry over to the idea that these two groups of women will have vastly different stay at home mom experiences, which have nothing to do with the "option" part of the whole thing. Whether you're raising kids on $25,000 a year and clipping coupons or you're living on six figures and your home is "Pinterest ready", it's all effing hard. Ask any mom! There are just different challenges, none of which should be downplayed. Saying that you're able to have a Pinterest-able life because you have a higher household income is completely ridiculous. It's about the priorities that we set in our homes, and what works for one family may not work for another. It has nothing to do with household income! This is the equivalent of saying that an educated woman is going to be better at her chosen profession than an uneducated woman is at hers. It's simply not true. Yes, they will have different experiences, but to say that one has it easier than the other and, as such, is a better worker is laughable. Uneducated and low income stay at home moms should be praised for their success as a mom, and not shamed or patronized because of their demographic, just as educated and higher income stay at home moms' efforts shouldn't be downplayed because of their demographic.

I think my brows almost collapsed on themselves when I read this passage,

"Ultimately, the opt-out story is a fantasy: that if women just made the right decisions, their lives could be worry-free. But the "decision" to live on one six-figure income is only available to a tiny fraction of Americans — for many more, raising kids is a struggle, whether Mom works or not"

Raising kids is a struggle for the majority of Americans who don't make six figures? You're kidding? I had no idea. The rest of us who opted-in are finding parenthood to be a breeze. "Come children, lets go to the museum before our stop at Whole Foods, but I've got to grab my Kate Spade purse and run by Starbucks first. After all, if didn't have these things this parenting thing may be hard and it's because of our vast wealth that I'm able to parent you with such purpose and attention. Thank heavens I made the decision to be 'worry-free'"

Seriously? This shit is just insulting, to like, ALL moms.

Success and accomplishment in your life have more to do with ambition and commitment than your income. I will forever be peeved by the assumption that I'm able to accomplish what I accomplish in my home based on my husband's income or my decision to stay home. I accomplish these things because I'm good at this! Rich (which I'm certainly not), poor, rain, shine, zombie apocalypse, I've got this skillz, which don't pay the bills, but skills nonetheless. This one facet of life, where I excel, shouldn't be downplayed because I have the option to explore it. I'd hopefully excel at something else in my career if it hadn't been my choice to stay home instead, but it would be because of the effort I put into it and not my household income. If I excelled in some aspect of my career it would probably be based on my education and the drive in which I applied to the advancement of my abilities. This holds true for teachers, cashiers, accountants, bartenders, CEOs and Walmart greeters, just as it holds true for stay at home moms. I worked my ass off in school, planned and prepared for grad school, moved out of state, sacrificed in order to afford grad school, and then walked out of the GRE right into the car and told my boyfriend (now my husband) that I wanted to get married and have kids. It was at THIS point that I "opted" to be a stay at home mom, but I also put as much effort into my home and family as I would have put into my advanced degree and my future career. A two year masters program was the traded for a five year program of hard work, sacrifice and a butt-load of education in another "field". Did I want a baby and husband immediately? Well, duh? Yeah, I did. But just as I couldn't approach my profession without a Masters, I wasn't about to approach my future as a stay at home with any less preparation. It meant learning to cook, clean, create. It meant working hard and saving for the future. It meant lighting aromatherapy candles, incorporating food with good fat and antioxidants for brain health, and playing the right tempo of classical music at the right volume to assist with math skill retention while my guy studied. Did this help him become brilliant and successful? I don't know. Some of it did, some of it didn't, but I had to attempt and embrace what I, personally, could do to make my "option" happen. And that meant helping my guy to accomplish and excel in his educational and career goals.

You can be naturally "good" at something and regardless of the situation, excel at that thing. However, people who are great at what they do, as mothers or CEOs, are usually "great" because of their effort and commitment. Effort and commitment to anything has nothing to do with your education level or your income, but sometimes your education and income are the direct result of your effort and commitment. So comparing existence and magnitude of moms' struggles and triumphs in relation to their education level and income ignores the reality that our decisions and acceptance of personal responsibility are what shape the fabric of our lives, as mothers, as wives, as students, as employees, as friends, as a homeless guy, as an unemployed college graduate, as a nun, and as a serial killer. Regardless of the hand we're dealt, we always have control over our decisions.

Women the who have seven figure household incomes and women who have five figure household incomes may or may not be able to rock some royal icing like I can, but it doesn't have anything to do with money or education. It has to do with my decision to make time to make it happen, because it's a priority for me. Even if it's 3 am and I will be a completely crappy, zombie mom tomorrow morning and I end up leaving my kid with DJ Lance Rock. I made the choice. This obviously extrapolates to much more important decisions, but sometimes the long list of little decisions affect the structure of our life. Just ask Subway Jared. Sandwiches. His life was forever changed by sandwiches. I'm just saying.

Now, it needs to be said that I am eternally grateful for the life I am afforded and the knowledge that at least for today, I can feed my family and have a roof over our heads. And I know that some families aren't as lucky, as a result of things beyond their control.

Again:

Me: crazy fortunate and grateful for everything I have, some of which is the result if my decisions, some fate.

Some: not as fortunate, some of which is a result of poor decisions, some fate.

Some: not as fortunate, totally shitty luck at life, but decide to make the most of life and make good decisions with the choices they are given.

BUT, all of these instances can result in someone being an awesome stay at home mom, or a shitty one for that matter, and it doesn't have shit to do with income or education. So give props where props are deserved, because being a mom is flipping hard, ya'll!

I'm rambling. There are like three flies in the house. I'm out of milk, and my kid, who is currently pouring his water on the dog, needs lunch, which will of course be a peanut butter sandwich, because regardless of your education and income, you cannot convince a two year old to eat anything else.

Home. Decisions. Sandwiches. Jared. Carter. Connections. Out.

I'm going to eat this blog

So, I'm on the last few days of a crazy restrictive diet and instead of eating my face, I've been meal planning and pinning the crap out of my pinterest boards. In the past year we've changed our eating habits to pretty low-carb, grain free, sugar free, crap free, blah, blah, blah. This stands true for normal life, but birthdays and parties we throw and "the holidays" don't really care about our big asses and, as such, we eat as we please, which is good for a balanced life and all. I guess?
Anyhow, I was going to blog about my delicious experiment this week, which was also my own little exercise in self-inflicted torture. With all of the pinteresting that I've been up to, I happened to come across many things that have no business in my "real life" meal planning, but had to be pinned and pined over nonetheless. So, I saw these Circus Animal Cracker Cookie Truffles and was like, ahhh bitch, I'm gonna make the shit out of you. Of course, I can't eat these. Not even a nibble. Nada. So, when my friend had pinned the same thing and we later discussed our love for circus animal crackers, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to spoil my preggers pal, get my creative energy out and about, and torture myself with the making of foods that I cannot even taste (this is not the first time I've done this. Not this year. Not even this month). Also, Easter. Decision made. And thus, Easter Egg Circus Animal Cracker Cookie Truffles were born with a very unfortunate name. They were...so effing delicious!!! Yes, I caved and ate a bite. A bite! Well, two bites, since the first one was a taste that I spit out and the second was one I actually ate because my husband was disgusted that I'd waste such a glorious creation. Aren't you initially impressed with my amazing willpower, and then later disappointed in my complete lack of conviction? Yeah, so a bite. I gained a pound. No joke. Actually it was 1.6 lbs. Worth it...at the time, but now I'm in a shame spiral.
So, you might be asking, where are photos of these wondrous little eggs of delight? Well, my camera thinks they're delicious and refuses to hand them over for blog type viewing. That's not true. I just cant find the ipad to photo card adapter. It's one of those things where you take something very important and put it in a "special safe place" and then you can't remember where the eff that place is!?! And I can, like, see it in my head, like it's just out in the open somewhere and I'm totally missing it. Or, it could be one of those times where you see something all the time and think, I must put that somewhere before it gets damaged or lost, and then you don't and then it gets damaged...or lost. Nonetheless, there are no photos here. There are a few floating in the instagram world from people who have had the good sense to photograph them with their iphone before eating them. Feel free to scour the internets for that. I'm sure you will.
This is an on-going post, I guess.
To be continued...
...let me know if you see my adapter.

UPDATE!!!
Photos were freed and posted to their bloggy home, check them out here

On the list

Blogging is on my to-do list. Does that count?

Sit-ups are also on my to-do list. Yeah. Ask my bikinis how that's worked out.

I miss you, blog. Do you miss me? Circle yes or no.
I did some stuff. I'll write soon. Don't forget about me...

Doin' Valentine's Day Stuff

Now and then I do stuff.

It's this kind of stuff, but stuff nonetheless.

When you're dieting over Valentine's Day and you need to distract yourself from chocolate truffles and champagne, tea can seem pretty exciting. This Yogi Caramel Apple Spice Snack Tea is my friend lately. I think the idea that tea is considered a "snack" is both extremely accurate and depressing. Anyhow, working on some details to lure our minds away from what we're missing and I thought, felt hearts! Felt hearts are my go-to. For everything. Take a trip back to this for more on that business. So, felt hearts make tea more festive and bakers twine makes everything awesome.




No need for step-by-step instructions here, right?

My Valentine's Day wish for you is that you don't have to make tea festive because your face is filled with chocolate. Vosges is our usual Valentine's Day tradition. Do yourself a favor and eat box. Report back in full detail. I fully plan on having a do-over Valentine's Day that will include Vosges in my face.

And I'm off to have a "snack"...

Blaaaah-g

Remember that auto-save thingie I mentioned last time? So, I'm still a moron. Another blog bites the dust.
So, I do "stuff", hence the name and also the lack of time to blog. It's tough to blog when you're doing stuff, but I'll get there.
Here's a completely ridiculous, self-indulgent statement for you; I want to record the stuff I do or did so that I can link up to my stuff on Pinterest. I've found three different things that I've done, floating around Pinterest and there's no, "Yella did this shit" to be found.
Zach Morrris Time Out:
Every time I see Yelladoesstuff I think of adult related activies, a la Debbie Does Dallas and various other locales. To clarify, Yella does not to THAT stuff on the blog.
Time in.
The party planning is in full swing, which means lots of trips to random places to find various things. So many places, that yesterday evening when I asked my future birthday boy if he wanted to go "bye-bye", I was met with a definitive, "Noooo".
Between the running around and the constant glittering that's happening, I've been pressed for time and have found myself planning at night. By this I mean I am up at 3 am comparing eleventy billion different types of wooden spoons or tracking down things like oh, lets just say, small milk bottles with a very specific lid. You haven't lived until you find your self perusing a dairy farm's website in the middle if the night trying to rationalize the purchase of a pallet of milk jugs. Sometimes this is the stuff that is done. However, I may have found a solution with Starbucks, which is where most solutions come from. Coffee fixes all things.




I'll let you know how that works out. Also, there will be lots of Vanilla frappucchino going down the drain at my house. I'll save it in a jug for you if you want.
Yet another reason to own a pallet of milk bottles.
And I found (supposedly) non-poisonous Luchadores action figures at the dollar store, because of course I did. Lead-free is the way to be, y'all. I'm wondering if I can paint them in Nacho Libre colors.
This is the "stuff".

Fun Facts For the Fourth

Because it's the fourth.
And because I'm blogging everyday, so...

1. This is the second time I've written this blog because I didn't save it, like a moron. And now I feel like it's back in the day before auto-save and you had to, like, constantly save your shit.

2. There are no little plastic luchadors for sale in the US. Evidently the adorable little luchadores I am seeing all over Pinterest are full of poison and are not suitable for sale here, BUT you can pick them up in Mexico and the UK. Ponder.

3. Speaking of Pinterest, I have a Shameful Secret Obsessions board, which also includes things that freak me out. Peruse at your leisure and we'll compare notes in a later blog.

4. My husband loves this video clip and says, "Gurrrl please" at least once a day. There is also an almost two year old who says this as well. BEST. PARENTS. EVAAAAR.

5. I sold something on eBay today to someone in the Netherlands. So that's more trouble than it's worth.

6. There's something happening in the world, like, Vampire Lift or something? I heard about it via my mother, via her Botox...err, I mean facial...person, and it's something about injecting your own blood somewhere else, like, on your face? Is this going to be a thing?

7. There is an advanced copy of The Hobbit in my possession at this very moment, but it SHOULD be an advanced copy of the first few episodes of Games of Thrones! What good are Hollywood hookups if they can't get it right?!?! Also, I'm extremely ungrateful.

8. I know what happens on the last episode of season 3 of Downton Abbey, because in addition to being ungrateful, I'm also impatient (what a gem, right?) and so I bought the TV pass on Amazon Instant Video.

9. When does Grand Theft Auto 5 come out? Okay, not a fact, but when?

10. The Fun Facts For the Fourth is totally for naught, because its now the Fifth. Sad trombone.

Bloggin' daily, folks. The thrills just keep coming.

Any fun facts for you on the Fourth, or Fifth I guess?

More like Super Suck...

I'm sorry. That wasn't even clever.
I'm having a rough day. Actually, it's the shittiest day ever. EVER. At some point I overestimated my abilities and decided to schedule my diet so that it intersected with Super Bowl Sunday. Intersected isn't the right word. Collided in a fiery explosion of self pity, self deprivation, and sugar-free gum. Yes, that's accurate. This is another reason why resolutions shouldn't start in January. Further, they shouldn't start until after Super Bowl Sunday. Honestly, who the hell thinks it's a great idea to diet on a day that's entire existence is based upon drinking beer and eating every delectable, sinful, indulgent food you can imagine, while sitting in oversized jerseys and watching commercials?!? And there's also a game of some sort.
I am the person that does this. Or has done this, this one time. But, never again, guys. Never. Again.
When I diet, I diet. I focus, I plan, I create deadlines, and I stick to it. Most of the time it's because I'm extremely stubborn and want to see if I can survive it. Evidently I have issues with self-deprivation, which is fun to watch. Enjoy. So, there is no way I can take a "cheat day" or some ridiculous thing like that. Ho ho ho, no! Not this girl. Instead, I suffer through and think that on Monday morning I'll feel like I've accomplished some great feat, albeit a completely unnecessary feat that is completely pointless and makes no difference in the long run. But explaining that to the stubborn little gnome that lives in my brain will get you a disapproving look and probably a kick in the shins. So today, the gnome wins and I will evidently feel elated and full of triumph tomorrow. I'm somewhat positive that this gnome is a sadistic liar.
While "accomplishing" my gnome-imposed goal today (and by "accomplishing" I mean bitching and moaning all day while chewing sugar-free gum), I found myself hiding in the car in front of a rainbow painted pinata store with bars on its windows while an insane man walked into traffic and attempted to fight anything, including moving cars, that crossed his path. I think it goes without saying that I had to travel to the ghetto in order to experience such stunning display of humanity...and probably bath salts. After that delightful outing, we wandered around the Mexican market looking for luchador party supplies, which was super awesome considering that there is obviously mexican food at the Mexican market. This is when the gnome just starts fucking with me for funsies. Anyhow, we left with assorted bottles of Jarritos for the party, which will probably only be used for aesthetic because we don't drink soda and the gnome frowns at sugar, soooo? I also had a moment of, you are the whitest Mexican ever, when I bought multiple cans of tomato paste and enchilada sauce for the sole purpose of using the cute cans for a Pinterest project. Yeah. So that happened.
Then this happened...




And then I watched commercials, chewed more gum, pondered the physics of getting a unicorn horn to stay stuck on my head, Beyonce and her backup singers sang, I sent a video of cats playing a xylophone version of Independent Women to my BBFF, and then...blog.
Actually, I almost forgot to blog, but my husband asked me if I was blogging when I was emailing wine stores at midnight, as you do, and I thought, you are the worst daily blogger evaaaar! The blog gnome has nothing on the stubborn diet gnome. Actually, the blog gnome is a wuss who get distracted by internet shopping. Loser.
That was the stubborn gnome talking.
Hope you enjoyed a blissful day of carbs and alcohol and football and joy and mirth!!!
I hate you.
Not really, it's just the gnome talking.

Luchadors vs Unicorns: Battle Royale

I love to plan a party. I can tear up a theme party like nobody's business.

*side note: speaking of nobody's business, if you start listening to "none of your business" radio on Pandora, your life will change. You might think I'm crazy now, but after listening, you will think I'm sooo crazy and then you will think you want to have my baby*

So, back to parties. Throwing 'em. I got the skills. My trusty BBFF (of course this is Bitchy Best Friend Forever) and I are like Martha Stewart and her lesser know friend from back in the day who she promptly stabbed in the back, but with out the back stabbing...and we also don't say "herbs" with an audible H sound. We can also get out of hand with the details, but as BBFF recently reminded me as we were pondering the purchase of stuffed unicorns, "we have a reputation to uphold". True. Unicorns, get your horny asses in the cart!

So, right now we are planning two parties. Like, right now, right now. BBFF is FaceTime-ing me from Hobby Lobby and we are discussing rainbow glass bottles and cork sizes. These are the details that we find ourselves discussing. Riveting stuff.

The little man who follows me around most of the time and refers to me as "ma", is turning 2. From what I can tell, he has requested that I throw him a Little Luchador party, and I am happy to oblige. His obsession with Nacho Libre has inspired a deep connection to my Mexican roots and my home has embraced the fine art of Lucha Libre.


Introducing my baby to Mexican wrestling may not have been the smartest idea, which I'm reminded of each time he leaps from the back of the couch onto my head. But nonetheless, he loves Nacho and we will be having a party to cater to his adorable little fleeting interests. When I say that sometimes things get out of hand, I mean that sometimes I entertain the idea of buying a smallish 6' trampoline and setting up a Luchador ring in my living room. You know, as you do. Or inviting mariachis to come by to sing the same song that Nacho sings at the wrestling pros party.



"I am a singing at theee parteee"

That song. Out. Of. Hand.

Also, I'm ruining my child. So stay tuned for that train wreck.

In addition to obscure themed Mexican toddler parties, I'm also planning a party with the BBFF for our other BBFFs, the DSSC (our made up 90's girl group, similar to the Spice Girls and also the beginning of our short lived Catfish careers). It's our 20 year friendiversary and one of our own's going away party. Spice Rack will be leaving us for New York and so, because she is the least crafty, creative one of us (allegedly), we allowed her input in the creation of a theme for a party. She requested unicorns, rainbows and silly straws. Initially, we scoffed at her ridiculous suggestion (especially given my extreme aversion to all things unicorn related, more on that later), but...BUT...the wheels started turning and it's led to this moment. The most incredible theme of our party planning careers.

RAINBOW UNICORN GLITTER VOMIT SLUMBER PARTY!!!!!

...and also some Spice Girls.

Because, of course, unicorns vomit rainbows and glitter while simultaneously listening to Viva Forever.

I'll let that sink in a bit.

So, that's what's happening. Glitter is everywhere. Not sure if you know that glitter is The Herp of the crafting world. It's just everywhere and it shows up where you least expect it and it just never goes away.

And then conversations like this are happening.








Are you ridiculously entertained yet? Of course you are.

Guys, I'm bloggin' everyday this month. Super ambitious considering how lengthy the month of February is. Also, I'm quite aware that this is the 2nd and I didn't blog yesterday. But, it's Groundhog Day, so I figure I'll have a chance to catch up tomorrow...or tomorrow...or tomorrow.

Bye, guys! Hope your day is worth repeating!

New Year's Resolutions start in February

Right? I mean, we need a month to get used to the idea and have our last hurrah (Ugh, I had that word. What else is there? Whoopty do? I'll come back to that) or whatever it is we're giving up or changing, right? December can't be for that shit. Who has time for anything besides eating and shopping and drinking and watching Christmas Story in December? No, January is where our vices come to hang out one last time, until next January.

Whatever.

February is happening and I'm going to blog. For me. For you, for humanity?!? I'm that interesting and endearing, right?

So that's the plan. I don't know why I'm explaining myself. Oh, that's right, my resolution is to not care so much about what people think of me or that people even care what I do. They don't. Or they do. They like me . Or they don't. Whatevs. I remember this quote...no, actually I don't really remember it, but it's something about, stop explaining yourself because the people who require an explanation don't really care what you have to say and the people who think you're awesome don't require an explanation. Or something? Ok, so that's the plan.

Hmmm, this has taken a bit of somber tone, right? I promise to be more endearing in the future. Or not. Shut up.

Also, the TV on in the background had the Jeff Probst show on (is that how it's spelled?). I don't know who he is, but I initially thought it was the guy who hosted Cheaters. It's not. So, there's that.