Just for kicks… September 26, 2009

Please rate the following experience on a Weirdness Scale of 1 to 10. 

I was walking to the playground/library today with Baby Girl. We take the bike trail, which runs behind a few other apartment buildings. There’s a large grassy area, and we often stop to talk to people there playing ball or walking dogs or whatever. Today, there was a couple practicing golf swings. They were standing at opposite sides of the field, and we passed the woman first. Their little dog ran over to us to be petted, so we chatted for a few minutes before going on. As we get closer to the guy, he YELLS out, “Hot  redhead at one ‘o clock!” Naturally, I turned around to see who he was yelling about. Then I realize it might be me, as we are the only people on the trail and I just colored my hair a tiny bit. We are most definitely within earshot of the woman (who turns out to be his WIFE). He immediately trots over to us and starts chatting. Before I can utter a sentence, I learn that all of his other exes were redheads except his “current wife” (his words) who, as I could clearly see for myself, is blond. He is 40, she is 26, and they’re having a baby girl in 2 months to add to his other 2 adorable children from, you know, his other exes. He also assured me that, even though he’s 40, he’s in phenomenal shape. I think I must have said something, waved again at his apparently pregnant wife across the field, and kept right on walking.

People, how bizarre was that? Tell me.

ETA: I forgot! He also told me which store his wife manages at the mall and invited me to come in sometime for a discount on a bra.

My amazing, weird little child September 19, 2009

Baby Girl turned three this past week, and she is taking this no-longer-a-baby stuff very, very seriously. The result is twofold–she is unbelievably verbal and brilliant and hilarious and perceptive, AND she is unbelievably rigid and unpredictable and opinionated and oh-my-word can this girl throw a tantrum. I love being her mother, and in the same breath I will admit that she tries every last ever-loving nerve I have. Oh, THE DRAMA. Just off the top of my head, she has thrown kill-me-now-turn-it-up-to-level-12 fits over the following things in the past 24 hours or so: the fact the steering wheel covers has holes in it, the moon was not a circle in the sky (half moon), she had a crease on her elbow from the pattern of the recliner, she misses her white house and doesn’t WANT to go to I-Wa and live in a sandcastle (that’s Iowa, and our apartment building is a sandcastle, obviously)…and on and on. That doesn’t even include the little facts that she has worn the same three dresses since we moved here in June (Did you know that only blue dresses make her like a beautiful princess???), she wears a crown just about everywhere we go, and she never takes off her white Sunday-shoe-type shoes (not even to sleep). If I manage to cajole her into another dress for Sunday (just to show that she does, in fact, have other clothes), she weeps and wails, “Okaaaay, but it doesn’t make me like a beautiful princess and I’m not beautiful AT ALL!”  Pants or shorts are in no way acceptable for any reason. Take that.

She also builds awesome forts for all her babies, asks me to read to her all the time (love it), tells me I’m her bestest beautiful mommy, cuddles up to me and fits right into my side like a little puzzle piece when we read Twenty-six Princesses for the fifteenth time, runs over to tell me that she just made a new friend at the playground, writes “once upon a time stories” for me, helps me cook/eats my ingredients, and gives me a little glimpse of what I must have been like as a child. She thinks that getting to buy and eat an apple when we start the grocery trip is the greatest treat in the world. Other current favorite activities include using my cloth napkins and water to wash the kitchen floor (like Cinderella, you know), taking as many baths as I will allow her in a day, hiding tiny pinecones all over her room (she sneaks them in from outside), and using an entire roll of toilet paper to make a wedding aisle so she can marry her Diego doll. In short, she’s amazing. I’m so glad I get to be her mother.

Just so you can see some of the fun:

All trash is a toy to her. She stole the cardboard packaging from a new vacuum cleaner to make castles for her many babies

I’m not sure what was happening here, exactly.

She thinks I’m a genius because I can make heart-shaped sandwiches.

And the stillness only Cinderella can bring.

Oh, yes, I DO have a blog September 17, 2009

Sorry, folks. I have not been a good blogger lately. We are rolling right along into fall, and that means I sort of forgot that I have a blog. Well, I have people who want Baby Girl photos, anyway. Same difference. I’m working on another post with all of Baby Girl’s latest weirdness adorable antics. Hang on, Grandmas.

Things at Grace Community Church are hopping, let me tell you. They just launched a third service to help serve the awesome growth we’re experiencing, and the Wednesday night family activities are so full that we may have to start doing satellite parking on Wednesdays in addition to Sundays. I am teaching the 2’s class during the MOPS (mothers of preschoolers) meetings and helping with the 2nd grade group for now on Wednesday nights. I love those little guys, but it makes the weeks I get to run SongShow/Mediashout for the services feel like a vacation!

 Okay, to earn your forgiveness for so long between posts, I am going to give you my new favorite cupcake recipe. (Erin, it really IS so weird that I’m not a size 2).  These would be perfect for summer (I know, it’s almost October–whatever) cookouts or any Mexican-themed dinner. We had them with my friend Lisa’s awesome Tortilla Soup (need to get that recipe) and they paired really well. I saw a lot of recipes for these that included alcohol, but this one does not. They’re safe for the kidlets and/or all of the thousands of women around me who are pregnant (I’m willing to admit that may be just my perception at the moment). The recipe comes from Katie at Good Things Catered.

(Okay, there was no light for this photo and I can’t ice a cupcake to save my life, but you get the idea)

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tbsp instant milk powder
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/2 c sugar
1 tbsp vanilla extract
1 cup margarita mix (lime, not strawberry)
5 egg whites, room temperature

Frosting:

4 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
6 tbsp unsalted butter, room temperature
zest and juice of one lime
1 tsp vanilla extract
pinch salt
2 cups powdered sugar

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line 2 cupcake pans.
In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, milk powder, baking powder and salt. Set aside.
In another bowl, beat the butter and sugar together on medium-high until light (about 3 mins). 
Add  in the vanilla extract, then the margarita mix.
On low speed, beat the flour mixture into the butter mixture until just combined.
In a new bowl, beat the egg whites on high speed until stiff peaks form (I think I did this for about 4 minutes and called it a day–close enough to peaks for me).
Using a rubber spatula, gently fold the beaten whites into the batter.

Fill the cupcake liners. This yields about 24, but I could have gotten better results filling about 2-3 more. Some of the cupcakes were a little too tall and puffed over the top, making the tops tear a little when removed. Since my family and I promptly ate these poor rejects, no complaints here. Your mileage may vary.
Bake about 20-22 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the centers comes out clean.

Frosting:

Combine the cream cheese, butter, lime juice and zest, vanilla extract and beat on high until light and fluffy.
Add in salt and sugar mixing until combined thoroughly.
Keep bowl in fridge until cupcakes are cooled and ready to frost.

I belatedly thought it would be really cute to use candied limes on top (and Katie’s photo shows adorable little bendy straws!).

Go.

Make these tonight.

You can reward your brilliance by having another for breakfast in the morning.

You’re welcome.