Long time no blog.
I'll explain later.
So I told you about my potluck ordeal. Boy, did it turn out to be an ordeal!
I decided on a Cucumber and Tomato Salad courtesy of SouthernLiving.com. I chopped my veggies Thursday night and I whisked my dressing. The colors, the aroma, it was so beautiful it brought a tear to my eye. Off to the fridge to chill over night.
Friday A.M.
Me, the Hubs, and the A-Man are carpooling today. It will all be much easier with one vehicle. Except that I'm not a morning person and I'm stuck in a very small space with two very awake people. Enough about me. Just before we arrive at our drop of locations, the Hubs decides to do a drive thru breakfast. I would rather be sleeping, the A-Man wants something to eat even though he will be eating at school in ten minutes, and the Hubs who, bless his heart, NEVER thinks to ask others in the car if they know what they want before the box asks to take order, pulls up to the speaker on a stick.
Nano-seconds before the Hubs pulls up to the window, I get whiff of cool cucumbers. My brain says, "How relaxing in this moment of chaos." Wait a minute, that bowl is covered, I shouldn't be able to smell that. A quick reach to the back floor board reveals the the bowl has tipped over, ever so slightly, and a mixture of vinegar, sugar, and olive oil has made an aromatic puddle in my car! Can you say pickle-mobile? I managed to find a spare pair of A-Man's whitie tighties to sop it up with.
The chaos goes from mild to full blown. That poor drive thru attendant must have thought we were a traveling circus. It was nuts, to say the least.
Good News
The salad was intact, the Hubs found a safe home for in it in his office frig for the day. Fast forward to Friday evening. We are all back in the car along with the salad. Despite 100+ degree heat the car smelled fairly normal. We drop A-Man off with my rents and head to the potluck.
The Verdict
I completely over estimated the number of people in attendance. - 15 points
Nearly everyone complimented the dish. + 3 points
The hostess asked for the recipe. + 5 points
Total score 93 out of 100. A-
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Competitive Potluck
Okay, so my competitive spirit is totally NUTS!
The proof is in the pudding. HA! You'll laugh in a minute.
The Hubs works with the hospitality team at church. I tend to think of him as Super Usher, although he refuses to wear a cape on Sunday! What a stick in the mud!
Anywho. . . there is an appreciation potluck Friday night for the workers and their families. I believe the menu is BBQ. We, based on where our last name falls in the alphabet, are assigned to bring a side dish.
So after yesterday afternoon the conversing goes something like this:
ME: So did you find out what we need to bring?
HUBS: I told him we just wanted to check so we didn't end up with too much of one thing. He said to bring any side dish that goes with BBQ.
(Note: "We just wanted to. . ." That would interpret as me and my mostly-when-it-relates-to-event-planning Type A personality.)
ME: Okay, then it's on!
See, I have this thing about cooking for gatherings. Whatever I choose to bring has to be different from all the other entries, uh I mean dishes. It also has to taste SO good the platter is nearly licked clean of crumbs. Bonus points are issued based on the number of people that ask for the recipe.
You are probably starting to think that competitiveness is an understatement, aren't you! Well, stop being judgmental and let a girl live a little will you!
This potluck is on Friday so I have just a few days to plan my strategy. I will admit desserts and main courses are my specialty. This side dish thing is going to be a challenge. I'm thinking something cool and fresh, since it is going to be a million degrees outside. Potato salad an coleslaw are out, too obvious.
Please say a prayer for me as I embark on the ultimate church potluck challenge!
I'm off to search the volumes of trusty cookbooks!
Toodles!
The proof is in the pudding. HA! You'll laugh in a minute.
The Hubs works with the hospitality team at church. I tend to think of him as Super Usher, although he refuses to wear a cape on Sunday! What a stick in the mud!
Anywho. . . there is an appreciation potluck Friday night for the workers and their families. I believe the menu is BBQ. We, based on where our last name falls in the alphabet, are assigned to bring a side dish.
So after yesterday afternoon the conversing goes something like this:
ME: So did you find out what we need to bring?
HUBS: I told him we just wanted to check so we didn't end up with too much of one thing. He said to bring any side dish that goes with BBQ.
(Note: "We just wanted to. . ." That would interpret as me and my mostly-when-it-relates-to-event-planning Type A personality.)
ME: Okay, then it's on!
See, I have this thing about cooking for gatherings. Whatever I choose to bring has to be different from all the other entries, uh I mean dishes. It also has to taste SO good the platter is nearly licked clean of crumbs. Bonus points are issued based on the number of people that ask for the recipe.
You are probably starting to think that competitiveness is an understatement, aren't you! Well, stop being judgmental and let a girl live a little will you!
This potluck is on Friday so I have just a few days to plan my strategy. I will admit desserts and main courses are my specialty. This side dish thing is going to be a challenge. I'm thinking something cool and fresh, since it is going to be a million degrees outside. Potato salad an coleslaw are out, too obvious.
Please say a prayer for me as I embark on the ultimate church potluck challenge!
I'm off to search the volumes of trusty cookbooks!
Toodles!
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Go, Fight, Win!
The hubby and I are both very competitive people. Not in the cut throat kind of way. Last month when the A Man played t-ball we were not the parents yelling at the coaches. We have not tried to instill our competitive nature in our son.
Our competitiveness is just part of our personalities. Really we are only competitive with one another. Yeah, you are thinking how devastating that must be for our marriage. But it's quite healthy really. No, I'm not totally naive!
Okay, think of the hubs as the jock and me as the cheerleader.
Except he has really never been a jock.
Me on the other hand I really was a cheerleader. Now before you pass judgement I was more than the fifi, fufu, snotty high school cheerleader. I really took this stuff seriously. My senior year of high school I quite the squad with nearly 6 years experience after our sponsor let the squad elect a captain and co-captain who had never cheered before, ever! I didn't pout about it. I just told them it was something I took seriously and I choose not to make a mockery of it. Go me! It all worked out for me because I ended up cheering in college on a scholarship!! Yeppers, the collegiate level. We were in the gym 5 days a week, we had our body fat % checked every 14 days (ouch, those pinchers hurt!), and boys could hold me up in the air with one hand. Pretty amazing since these days it would take a fork lift to accomplish any of that!!
Enough about my glory days, back to my competitively energized marriage. I think we are competitive with ourselves more than we are with each other. But you see it's the spark in our relationship.
Last night for instance, we went to my in-laws to get some things out of storage to give to a family we know whose house burned down last weekend. One of the things in Granny's basement was a gun cabinet that I bought Hubs when we were dating. It has officially been in her basement 3 years, empty. A few months ago Hubs told uncle Dan he could just have it, but he was pretty sure he had accidentally thrown the key away. Now if Dan was going to use this cabinet he was going to have to saw the lock off of it and replace it. A hassle, but not the end of the world. So every time we have seen Dan the past few months Hubs gets the "You haven't run across the key for that gun cabinet have you?" No, because Hubs has no idea where it is. His rule is if he hasn't seen it in 3 or more weeks he must have accidentally thrown it away.
So we go downstairs to pull out some boxes of clothes and what not. The very first thing I do is pull up a dilapidated shirt box stuffed with all kinds of junk . . . playing cards, old pay stubs, receipts, some loose change, pocket lint, etc. I spy a gold colored key. I pulled it out and walked over to the gun cabinet. What am I thinking, even I'm not that good, this key was surely too small. I walked back to the box to put it back, but I just couldn't let go.
"Honey, is this key too big for the cabinet?"
He tried it, IT WORKED!
I got the ten-year-old-that-just-got-whooped-at-Asteroids reaction. Hubs could not believe that I walked down to the basement to get boxes of clothes, had not been there 20 seconds, reach into the disorganized chaos of yesteryear and pulled out the key he was sure he had accidentally thrown away!
Honestly, I couldn't believe it either, but it wasn't the time to admit it. He acted like he was aggravated that I just did something that he couldn't do or wasn't as good at. But I could see in his eyes and his heart that he was proud of me and his love for me had grown just a little bit more.
So that is an example of my Hubs and I always trying to do something the other one can't (whether accidentally or on purpose) makes use of our natural competitive spirit to make our marriage thrive!
Our competitiveness is just part of our personalities. Really we are only competitive with one another. Yeah, you are thinking how devastating that must be for our marriage. But it's quite healthy really. No, I'm not totally naive!
Okay, think of the hubs as the jock and me as the cheerleader.
Except he has really never been a jock.
Me on the other hand I really was a cheerleader. Now before you pass judgement I was more than the fifi, fufu, snotty high school cheerleader. I really took this stuff seriously. My senior year of high school I quite the squad with nearly 6 years experience after our sponsor let the squad elect a captain and co-captain who had never cheered before, ever! I didn't pout about it. I just told them it was something I took seriously and I choose not to make a mockery of it. Go me! It all worked out for me because I ended up cheering in college on a scholarship!! Yeppers, the collegiate level. We were in the gym 5 days a week, we had our body fat % checked every 14 days (ouch, those pinchers hurt!), and boys could hold me up in the air with one hand. Pretty amazing since these days it would take a fork lift to accomplish any of that!!
Enough about my glory days, back to my competitively energized marriage. I think we are competitive with ourselves more than we are with each other. But you see it's the spark in our relationship.
Last night for instance, we went to my in-laws to get some things out of storage to give to a family we know whose house burned down last weekend. One of the things in Granny's basement was a gun cabinet that I bought Hubs when we were dating. It has officially been in her basement 3 years, empty. A few months ago Hubs told uncle Dan he could just have it, but he was pretty sure he had accidentally thrown the key away. Now if Dan was going to use this cabinet he was going to have to saw the lock off of it and replace it. A hassle, but not the end of the world. So every time we have seen Dan the past few months Hubs gets the "You haven't run across the key for that gun cabinet have you?" No, because Hubs has no idea where it is. His rule is if he hasn't seen it in 3 or more weeks he must have accidentally thrown it away.
So we go downstairs to pull out some boxes of clothes and what not. The very first thing I do is pull up a dilapidated shirt box stuffed with all kinds of junk . . . playing cards, old pay stubs, receipts, some loose change, pocket lint, etc. I spy a gold colored key. I pulled it out and walked over to the gun cabinet. What am I thinking, even I'm not that good, this key was surely too small. I walked back to the box to put it back, but I just couldn't let go.
"Honey, is this key too big for the cabinet?"
He tried it, IT WORKED!
I got the ten-year-old-that-just-got-whooped-at-Asteroids reaction. Hubs could not believe that I walked down to the basement to get boxes of clothes, had not been there 20 seconds, reach into the disorganized chaos of yesteryear and pulled out the key he was sure he had accidentally thrown away!
Honestly, I couldn't believe it either, but it wasn't the time to admit it. He acted like he was aggravated that I just did something that he couldn't do or wasn't as good at. But I could see in his eyes and his heart that he was proud of me and his love for me had grown just a little bit more.
So that is an example of my Hubs and I always trying to do something the other one can't (whether accidentally or on purpose) makes use of our natural competitive spirit to make our marriage thrive!
Monday, August 6, 2007
Confessions from the Mother of an Only-Child
I was the little girl that dreamed of having a family. In the years before I wed I always told people I wanted three children but I reserved the right to change my mind after the first one.
Good thing I got that disclaimer in there. Within a few months of having our son my husband and I agreed that we were content with the "A Man" and had no intentions of expanding our family.
Deep down I was perfectly content with this decision. My pregnancy was not complicated. However, it did have some hiccups at the end.
My pregnancy WAS complicated for my husband. I am a firm believer that a man that grew up without sisters should have to go through some type of training before entering the emotional and down right complicated world of vowing to spend the rest of his days with one of God's most delicate creations! My poor hubby had no idea what to expect. The intense emotions and mood swings that would make the world's highest rated coaster seem like a merry-go-round, we almost too much for him at times. Although he anticipated the arrival of his son with much joy, he was a miserable person. I could never intentionally to that to him again.
So the decision was made, the "A Man" would be our precious prince, sole heir to our throne. Now don't you believe for a minute that I didn't have my days of doubt. My moments of meandering over pink bows and pigtails have been numerous. There have been maternal worries of raising a socially defunct child. I even have a list of nice, respectable, and professional individuals who are only-children. Deep down I have always felt we were in God's will, but also as if God had something else for us as well.
To be honest most days are filled with enough hustle and bustle the idea of adding to our family doesn't cross my mind. Until . . .
"Mommy next year when we get a new house I want a brother and a sister. I have names for them too Shooba and Soobee."
Don't ask me where those names came from because there are times the mind of a 4 year old is just too difficult for me to understand.
My son has asked about a sibling about every six or eight weeks for a while now. The thing is I don't have an answer for him. I knew this time would come, but I don't think I realized how unprepared I was for it. Rarely am I ever at a loss for words, but this subject makes my tongue tangle and tie.
All I can do for the time being is talk about the dog we'll get when we get the new house!
Good thing I got that disclaimer in there. Within a few months of having our son my husband and I agreed that we were content with the "A Man" and had no intentions of expanding our family.
Deep down I was perfectly content with this decision. My pregnancy was not complicated. However, it did have some hiccups at the end.
My pregnancy WAS complicated for my husband. I am a firm believer that a man that grew up without sisters should have to go through some type of training before entering the emotional and down right complicated world of vowing to spend the rest of his days with one of God's most delicate creations! My poor hubby had no idea what to expect. The intense emotions and mood swings that would make the world's highest rated coaster seem like a merry-go-round, we almost too much for him at times. Although he anticipated the arrival of his son with much joy, he was a miserable person. I could never intentionally to that to him again.
So the decision was made, the "A Man" would be our precious prince, sole heir to our throne. Now don't you believe for a minute that I didn't have my days of doubt. My moments of meandering over pink bows and pigtails have been numerous. There have been maternal worries of raising a socially defunct child. I even have a list of nice, respectable, and professional individuals who are only-children. Deep down I have always felt we were in God's will, but also as if God had something else for us as well.
To be honest most days are filled with enough hustle and bustle the idea of adding to our family doesn't cross my mind. Until . . .
"Mommy next year when we get a new house I want a brother and a sister. I have names for them too Shooba and Soobee."
Don't ask me where those names came from because there are times the mind of a 4 year old is just too difficult for me to understand.
My son has asked about a sibling about every six or eight weeks for a while now. The thing is I don't have an answer for him. I knew this time would come, but I don't think I realized how unprepared I was for it. Rarely am I ever at a loss for words, but this subject makes my tongue tangle and tie.
All I can do for the time being is talk about the dog we'll get when we get the new house!
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