real men eat quiche

i don't "cook" that much. not because i don't know how. not because i don't like to. it's because - no one eats anything other than kid food around here! mm included. his favorite meal is probably chicken pot pie or hot dogs.

so when my only son asks me to make his favorite, i do.
his favorite is - quiche.
my mother's recipe.
my mother has a degree in home economics.
for real.
she is (in my opinion) better than martha.

so this is what i'm making for dinner tonight. by request.

grandmother's quiche
9 inch pie crust
1/2 cup mayo
2T flour
4 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup milk
1 cup diced ham*
1 cup shredded cheddar
1 cup shredded swiss (i sometimes sub mozz)

bake pie crust at 400 degrees for 3 minutes, remove from oven, gently prick with fork. return to oven, bake 5 minutes longer. let cool. combine mayo, flour, eggs, and milk. mix thoroughly. stir in cheeses** and ham. pour into pie shell and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes.

*we usually leave this out. could also use sausage.
**i use the bag o' mixed cheese blends, 2 cups exactly.

this is a great brunch item for guests or parties.
we grew up having quiche on christmas morning.
and again on easter morning.

it also makes super-sweet six-year-old boys happy.
and i'm all for that.

whatareyouhavingfordinner?

fringe benefit

mm was proud of my 5K accomplishment.
he was amazed i stuck with it.
i have a tendency to abandon projects, hey, he knows.

he made it easy. he encouraged me, he put the kids to bed, cleaned the house, etc. (ok, i know, he usually does all of this anyway, but this time i took advantage)

here is one of our after-race conversations.
and why i love him so...

"aren't you so happy, you are a real runner now!"
"yes! and, if i were being chased by vampires,
i could hold them off for 3 miles at least."

"vampires?"
"yeah, vampires."

"uh, let's not get crazy, no way you could outrun a vampire."
"oh."

"but if there were zombies, you could totally outrun them!"
"aw, thanks honey!"

and i mean it.
thanks for everything.
eat my dust, zombies.

it's the great race, charlie brown

i've never blogged this early, because i h.a.t.e. mornings.
i'm on my way to the great race downtown.

my goal is to finish without walking. just running. three miles.
and a little more, but who's really counting at that point?

this is big for me. frankly, i haven't set a goal other than get up, get dressed and don't lose it - in about eight years.
(and with the name pajama mom, you can see how that's working)

i'll update when i get back.
oh - and it's raining.

I DID IT! i ran the whole way, averaging 12ish minute miles.
i passed a few people, but mostly i got passed - a lot.
but i finished. slow and steady. ok, freaky slow and steady.

i am soaking wet, a smidgen tired, loving/wearing my new t-shirt, content, and proud.

and like a true champion,
i'll be spending the afternoon at a chuck e. cheese party.

say this, not that

~beware, semi-incoherent rant ahead~

i've lived here for 15 years.
in a few years it will be longer than i lived with my parents.
in fact, if you ask me where i am "from" - i'd probably say pittsburgh - almost.

and yet, i still have a wv accent.
i don't mind.
i really don't even think about it anymore.

so, if you meet me, for the very first time...

say this,
"i couldn't help but notice your accent is quite unique,
may i ask where you spent your childhood?"

not that,
"OH MY GOD! WHERE ARE YOU FROM?"
followed by,
"YOU SOUND LIKE YOU ARE FROM WAY FAR SOUTH*!"
and,
"QUICK, SAY SOMETHING ELSE!"

oh, and please, for the love of grits,
let me finish introducing myself first.

*not that there's anything wrong with that.

grammar police

excerpt from k's new "dora saves the crystal kingdom" book...

"The greedy king has the crystal in his crown! What can we use to fly up to him? Right! Our butterfly wings! Whoa! Rocks are coming right at us! What can use to block the rocks? Yeah, the shield!"

did you catch it?

dudes, if i'm going to read it 42 times a night,
i'd really appreciate a grammar check.

what a drag it is getting old

well, i was actually reading a beatles article,
but it was in the rolling stone.
so there.

i spent yesterday afternoon in the dermatologist's office. waiting mostly. but i've been waiting since may/june, so a few more hours were no sweat. plus i had zero kids with me. hence the beatles article.

she comes in. coolest* derm doc ever.
love her. see her every few years.

"so what's up?" she says.
"my face, my hair, my fingernails, my moles." i say.
we break it on down. 'cause we are hip.

my face
i have acne. i hate it. had it since i was 13. everyday. every. day.
so over it.
she looks at my face with a magnifying glass. horrifying.
"what are you using?"
"i've tried proactiv."
"oh, that's for teenagers, not old ladies like us."
oh no she didn't just include me in her old lady club.
"now i use a scrub with salicylic acid."
"that is the wrong stuff for old ladies."
oh yes she did.

my hair
"let's talk hair."
"it falls out."
"falls out?"
"in handfuls, most everyday."
"uh-huh, you are getting older."
"great."

my fingernails
"your fingernails?"
"they are dry and brittle, crack-y."
"you're old."
"thought so."

my moles
this part was completely mortifying. out came the magnifying glass, again. she looked everywhere. armpits, elbows, fanny, with extra special attention to my muffin top/belly, which has a "birth mole" on it. sexy. she dictated sizes of various spots to her nurse, and then said, "mild to moderate sun damage."

"did you get many sunburns in your youth?"
"yes."
trying to ignore in your youth.
"did you use suntan oil?"
"yes."
didn't everyone?
"any other concerns?"
"how about this one? it is new."
"age spot."
"and this one?"
"age spot."
"this one?"
"ditto."
"this one, this one, this one?"
"age spots, and you are going to get more..."

let's say it together,
"as you get older."

so i guess the good news is that although i am old,
i am not really, really old.
and so much more derm stuff to look forward to. yay.

*she totally did a knuckle bump with me because it is flu season.
told ya. way cool.

performance review

instead of a raise, i've been promoted.

intervention

on fridays we have a routine.
order pizza at our local favorite.
stroll down to the pet store.
ooh and aah over the puppies.
decide which one we want.
list the reasons we aren't getting one.
sulk back to pizza place.
eat.

this last time i was standing at the cage of "rocket hamsters" protecting them from massive internal injuries at the hands of my brood. a lady walks in. she has on a skirt with chuck taylors. tattoos. a black t-shirt, clanky jewelry, and pink highlights.
a scarf.

and the HAIRIEST* legs i have seen on a human. ever.
i can't look away.

*in that instant i thought she was the awesomest person on the planet. i wanted to be just like her. never shave again... i started formulating a plan...

squeals of delight from the three-year-old broke my gaze.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
what is happening to me?!?
where are stacy and clinton?!?
i need a fashion intervention.

butterfly fly away

"caterpillar in the tree
how you wonder who you'll be
can't go far but you can always dream

wish you may and wish you might
don't you worry, hold on tight
i promise you there will come a day

butterfly fly away

got your wings now you can't stay
take those dreams and make them all come true
you've been waiting for this day
all along and known just what to do

butterfly fly away"

(lyrics from hannah montana soundtrack, quite catchy, really!)

if you ever get the chance to do a butterfly pavilion, just say yes.

paint yourself

i was sitting in the driveway with k reading a magazine. she was playing with the sidewalk paint, three feet away...









"what should i paint mommy?" k asked.
"why don't you paint yourself?" i said without looking up.
"ok." she said.

"all done." she said a few minutes later.
"ack, i meant paint a picture of yourself on the driveway." i clarified.
"oh." she said.

house special -
free pedi.
in your choice of blue, yellow,
or bluemixedwithyellow sidewalk paint.
washable.

p.s. sorry i chuckled so loudly, crk. darn karma.

my kind of piggy

k's piggy song...

this little piggy went to target,
this little piggy stayed home,
this little piggy had tacos,
this little piggy had none,
and this little piggy
didn't go wee wee
until she got home.

yeah, she's all ours.

mountain o' magazines

i think it's pretty obvious that i don't have time to read magazines.

but i'm in denial. i renew old subscriptions, i accept bogo magazines from friends and family. i even picked out cooking light with unused frequent flier miles. cooking light? i think this is definitely a giant red flag. cooking light! ha!

the magazines have piled up. in one of "those" piles that mm hates. every few days or so he will wave his magic arm over the general area of the pile and say, "so are we keeping this here?" or "so what are we doing with this?" or "so are we ready to recycle these?" - to which we would respond with the standard eye roll or bird flip, depending on my mood, of course.

they sat by our bed. in my beach bag. 'cause i had planned to take some to the beach to read. two years ago.

this summer the pile got out of hand, even for me. so i decided to flip through one every night, or every time i took a break.
(read - instead of facebook)

i am pleased to report that i have ready to recycle:
16 better homes and gardens
2 woman's day
10 cooking lights

to be fair, i did read the bhg and the wd, but not the cooking light. i have already donated the 2007 issues to the library because the ingredient lists would put martha to shame. seriously. we just aren't ready for cooking light in our chicken nugget kid world.

i still have three bhg and two family fun - new subscription. and parenting. ah parenting. i just can't make myself read it. i have over two years' worth of these. it makes me feel guilty for not preparing our own baby food, or using cloth diapers, or not using bpa free bottles. and sometimes after a long day of mommy-ing the last thing i want to read about is how perfect mommy-ing should be.

so if you need me, i'll be reading. oh, and if you need a gift for me, i'm thinking lucky? 'cause ya'll know how fashionable i am...

just saying.

reflections

a new mom getting her 8-week-old ready for her first pictures.
a new dad getting ready to go with them.

flipping on the tv. for no reason at all. the first plane had already hit. it was inside the building. inside the building. another plane hits. another plane. new mom and dad cannot move. cannot speak. they watch. they don't care about pictures anymore. there are objects dropping from the sky. what are those objects? new mom starts asking over and over. don't you see them? it takes minutes to register. humans. they are human bodies. how horrific to think that jumping out of a window would be better than staying where you are... nausea. the tower, falls. down. completely down. impossible. completely surreal. the other tower falls. dust. tons of dust. they don't move for a long time.

they leave their house. it is picture time. nothing else to do but go. no one there knows what they are talking about. what? they ask. new mom and dad explain. pictures are taken. no one is smiling but the new baby. as they leave, everything closes. everything. for the whole day. that day.

a day they will never forget.

bear hunt

k in the car,
after her first day of preschool,

"mommy, want to sing the bear hunt song?"
"sure, i know that one."
"okay, you start."
"ok."

i'm going on a bear hunt,
(she repeats)
i'm not afraid,
(she repeats)
i've got my trusty gun,
(whaa?)
and my bullets by my side.
(whoa, mommy!)

"it's camera."
"what?"
"i've got my camera."
"your camera?"
"by my side."
"for what?"
"to take a picture of the bear."
"i don't get it."
"we go into the cave and take a picture of the bear."
"oh."

HUH??? what the hell?

wonder engineer powers, activate!

we are home from a super weekend with friends.
somehow the weekend gets better each year.

starting with graduation, every year mm and his engineering buds get together over labor day. we used to meet in morgantown and go to mountaineer field. when babies started arriving on the scene, we would meet in morgantown, the guys would go to the game, the gals would watch on tv. nowadays, kids overflow, we meet near dc and order the game on pay-per-view.

sidenote, it is ever-so-funny to me that our kids think the house we stay in is in fact - dc.

there have been other subtle changes too, let's call them the fab 5.

food
then - standard bbq
now - smoked chicken, ribs, baked potato bar, pasta salads, pepperoni rolls, sushi? our host got up early saturday morning and shot a deer, that's some serious hospitality!

fluids*
then - um, beer
now - an abundance of "better" beer, smirnoff ice, twisted tea, lots o' wine, buttery nipples (so not kidding)

friends
then - the men play a basketball tournament. all the ladies watch attentively.
now - the old men creak and groan and play a half basketball tournament on a half court. all the ladies watch semi-attentively.

family
then - no kids! can you even imagine?!?
now - i counted ten kids at one point, but they were moving fast. they are all amazingly beautiful. and they entertained each other - all we had to do was keep them hydrated.

fun
this part has not really changed. talking. laughing. poker playing, drinkin', shopping, trampoline jumping, water battles, bike riding, swinging, basketball, legos, eating, movies, s'mores, bonfires, etc. it really doesn't matter, it's all so good.

my mother always told me to marry an engineer.
i'm so glad i listened.

p.s. v totally got carded TWICE! craziness. so. jealous.

*pj mom fluids - coffee, coca-cola, coffee, smirnoff, repeat daily. heaven.

at least someone is listening

we were playing in the driveway, just me and k. i like this time i have with her, it reminds me of when it was just - me and m.
(poor middle kid g, hardly any alone time, another post indeed)

we did bubbles and chalk, i sat in my wvu stadium seat and pretended i had season tickets for the best team in town.

after a while i thought i could sneak in and put clothes in the dryer. i left the garage doors open so i could hear her and almost see her. i opened the washer, "k you okay out there?"

"yeah!" she answered.

"great! i'll be right there." i closed the dryer, set the timer.

"still okay?" i asked again.

the answer came back matter-of-factly
and with just a hint of annoyance,
"don't worry, no one taked me yet."

well hell, at least someone in this house is listening!

detangler

as promised, homemade detangler.

i bought the paul mitchell stuff one day when k was getting her hair cut. i hadn't brushed her hair that morning, it got even worse in the carseat, then we decided, after playing at the park, "hey, let's do haircuts."

so i got the guilt trip from the lady. i know she meant well, but i could tell she was appalled that i hadn't brushed the poor baby's beautiful hair. like she was telling herself, "when i have kids, that will NEVER happen." i know the look. i used to use it all the time...

i thought six bucks for a magical bottle of "red alert" chemicals was a bargain. the way she sprayed it on the rat's nest and pulled the comb through without a scream or a tear. i instantly fell in love with detangler.

i was bragging away at gymnastics, you know - how awesome detangler is, like i'm the only person in the world that knows about this fabulous stuff. i do that sometimes. another mom, with SIX kids, FIVE of them girls, said, "you know that detangler is just conditioner and water, just mix it in a bottle and spray."

well, of course, i knew that. i mean somehow, i knew that already, right? shouldn't moms know that? i'm sure i read it in my mom handbook somewhere.

when the six dollar detangler was finished, i made my own. i used a cup of water, that's how big my bottle was, and all of the conditioner from one of those hotel bottles. maybe 2-3 tablespoons. it works really well. and it was free. go figure. and now mm can stop bugging me about taking the hotel conditioner. haha on him.

in the meantime, i'm looking for organic conditioner? our next batch will be perfect. mwah-ha-ha! who says you never use chem lab again after college?