OMG

So, my 40th birthday came and went with a blown tire, a rapid pickup of the children and a broken air conditioner. Oh well, that’s life.  **shrugs**   The next day I shifted focus to Girl 2’s 4th birthday party in 9 days and another mini- vacation with all the extended family and all the hostessing that includes. Somewhere in that time frame dr soc had a nose job (okay, it was sinus surgery. But calling it a nose job is better for teasing because I love him), we set up a new big girl bed for girl 2, and somehow had to clean the house for all the company coming in because omg there are going to be 11 people in my house at the same time. 

Friday before the party I text dr soc with the last minute party/grocery shopping and come home to a clean house too. God I love that man. But something was slightly off. No one was downstairs like usual when I come home from work, and the sofa tables are cleaned off with the exception of a purse I didn’t recognize.

me: I’m home! Hey who’s here?
dr soc: What do you mean?

me: Whose purse is this? (I’m not too concerned, and if even if it was his mistress if she cleans my house she can stay)

dr soc: - realizes the jig is up - Oh. As for who’s here…

My bestest buddie from when we were 11 and lives in Portland and haven’t seen in 6 years runs down the stairs.

MY BESTEST BUDDIE FROM WHEN WE WERE 11 AND LIVES IN PORTLAND AND HAVEN'T SEEN IN 6 YEARS RUNS DOWN THE STAIRS.

OMFG.

I’m in shock to say the least. I'm in disbelief and hugging her so tight because all the feels! I mean now I have to figure out dinner but that’s okay because omg my bestest buddie who I haven’t seen in 6 years has flown across the country to surprise me for my/our 40th birthday! 

But wait, there’s more! Dr soc has ordered food for tonight too so I don’t need to worry about dinner either. And speak of the devil, the doorbell rings. I open the door and it's sorta food but not really because  

It’s 4 of my best friends from college who live in 4 different parts of the country and haven’t seen in at least 2 years because of the pandemic standing on my front porch (to take me out for dinner).

IT’S 4 OF MY BEST FRIENDS FROM COLLEGE WHO LIVE IN 4 DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE COUNTRY AND HAVENT SEEN IN AT LEAST 2 YEARS BECAUSE OF THE PANDEMIC STANDING ON MY FRONT PORCH (TO TAKE ME TO DINNER).

Well now I'm crying tears of joy, my friends are crying tears of joy too and dr soc is welling up as well because he arranged for all of them to surprise me for my birthday on this particular weekend. That night we went out for Mexican food with margaritas college style but better because we're all 40 now and have disposable income.

And Saturday they came to girl 2's birthday party and then we had a night on the town. I had a girls' weekend and it was the absolute best.  

clockwise from bottom left: Jeanne - Cleveland, me -Charlotte, Priya -Portland, Nancy - NYC, Michele - DC/Maryland and LB - Orlando

SO MANY MILES 

Some of my favorite ladies

And my shoe exploded. It didn't just break, it exploded and ceased to function

Funtimes is an understatement. Amazing isn't a strong enough word to describe my friends. I was completely surprised and overwhelmed at how much I am loved.  A huge thank you to dr soc for making it happen, and another billion thank yous to my best friends for all the miles traveled!    

A documentary

Living with a little turkey and lion, it was only a matter of time before we found ourselves in a nature documentary. Presenting:

The toddler stalks her prey...

Successful attack! ‘YUMMY!’ is screamed in victory

The toddler enjoys her spoils

Thanksgiving Play, Act 2, Scene 3

Since we've been in North Carolina, dr soc and I have hosted Thanksgiving. Neither one of us really has the time from work and now with Little Turkey's birthday, hosting has been what works best for us. We know what works as far as the food, guests sleeping arrangements and things to do, so the weekend runs well, is a lot of fun and we look forward to it.  
But in the issue of full disclosure: it did not start that way. It started like this:

--SCENE SET UP--   

I cook. Dr soc cleans kitchen behind me, including stuff still being used. I use another spoon/dish/pan since I can't find anything. Dr soc washes new dirtied item. We continue to get in each other's way throughout the day. Tempers shorten at 1:1 ratio of missing:dirty items.

--BEGIN SCENE--

me: (pour olive oil in pan. decide to forgo whatever meal that was. look for clear space and place pan on top of drying rack to left of the sink)
dr soc: (sees pan with liquid. grab dish towel. start wiping oil)
me: (blurt across kitchen) Oh no honey! That's not water, that's olive oil!
dr soc: (exasperated) Then why was it on the clean side?
me: (completely frazzled. look at dr soc)
dr soc: (eyes widen. throw up hands) Sorry! I'm sorry! (backs out of kitchen-fearful) 

--the next hour--

dr soc: (slink* into the kitchen to clean)
me: (see slinking. screech) I'm not done! (flail hands) Still using that! (strangled incoherent gargle) 
dr soc: (leave kitchen)

(repeat 2-3 more times at random intervals throughout flurry of holiday activity)
--END SCENE--

At the time it was just ridiculous but now it's one of my favorite memories and I crack up whenever I tell it (seriously I'm giggling hard core right now). But needless to say, we've gotten a lot better.

*this is very hard to do with an open plan like we have

Dinner Plans

Dr Soc and I worked out our childcare plans so that baby girl goes to daycare two times a week. The other days of the work week he teaches early in the morning and comes home, then I leave for work and those nights I close the library.

That also means those nights dinner is on him. I've been trying to get into the habit of menu planning and can manage a variety of 30ish minute meals, but on nights I close I don't get home until 8:30. One of the last things I want to do is cook, eat around 9 and then put the baby to bed (she nurses to sleep. I know, I have to wean that eventually).

But cooking with baby and quick meals are isn't his strongest wheelhouse. So most Tuesday nights I get the dinner text. Some variation of "dinner ideas?" and I tell him what I'm craving or not, what he can make from the freezer or where to order from.
This was our exchange from the other night:

But I still wanted it, even after recalling that memory. The only reason we didn't have meatloaf that night was because the grocery store didn't have any. And I was bummed too!

All American Palate

My mom visited last weekend and we commiserated over the election and talked each up to and then somewhat down from the ledge. But having my mom in town also means we go out to eat a lot (the cooking/menu planning/hostess with the mostest game has been pretty weak with the time suck that is parenting) and she has an adventurous palate so we try new places.

Anyway, I wanted to try the Asian grocery store close by because I heard they had authentic dim sum. I've helped my mom make a few things on occasion, but those delicious finger foods are deceptively "simple." Because those suckers take time a ton of time, energy and spices I don't have in my pantry. So we go and right off the bat we see a ton of Asians eating there which is always a good sign the food is authentic/good. And this place is loud and crowded and everyone who looks like my mom is yelling over each other in Chinese.

But here's another thing about my mom, she's ABC- American Born Chinese. And she knows some Cantonese, but no Mandarin. So we had no idea what we were ordering. Or eating. So it was...interesting.  

You know it's authentic when you see the locals eating there. But you know you're American when your mom doesn't know what you're eating.  

Football Dreams

I had this dream a while ago I thought I would share now* since it's football season.

Luke Kuechly, Colin Kaepernick, and some other well known player were all staying at our house during training camp. They all really wanted me to pack them their lunches for camp, like a mother hen. So for some reason I took them all grocery shopping with me. I would push the cart and send them all off into the store aisles to fetch whatever ingredient I needed to make the lunch they wanted.

They did pretty well but one of them (I think it was Luke) wasn't sure what kind of eggs to get, so he put a dozen free range and a dozen brown eggs in the cart hoping those were right. I asked if  he had checked to make sure none of them were cracked, but he sheepishly shook his head because he didn't know he was supposed to do that. I think I gently reminded him and sent him to another aisle. After that it gets a little hazy but I suppose I packed their lunches and sent them all off to camp.

I have the best football dreams.

*okay, full disclosure, I started this post in the summer right after I had the dream but totally forgot to post it because, well, life, and now and it just happens to be football season.

 

Blow Out

So I had a baby 4 months ago and dropped off the blog world. Meh, whatever. Maybe I'll go back and tell stories from that time, maybe not (probably not-this parenting thing is busy stuff!)
Anyway, we started my tiny baby on solids last weekend with hopes to make her not-so tiny. Or at the very least tiny but still growing like she should. (Seriously, she's in the 4th and 5th percentile for height and weight. TINY) And by "solids" I mean baby oatmeal (who knew that was a thing?) mixed with breast milk. It's a runny mess and maybe 50% ends up in her tummy, but she gets excited* for it nonetheless.
Since she's having only had breast milk up to this point, introducing solids to her diet (even as liquidy as they are) was bound to mess with her little system some and there would be some adjustment. So the day after her first oatmeal we waited for that dirty diaper. And waited. And waited some more. Eventually it happened, she got more oatmeal and we all moved on.
You know what else adjusting to solids means? Blowing out her diaper. And at the most convenient time of when I'm dropping her of at daycare. Yup. The past 3 times she's gone to daycare since starting solids, she needs an outfit change as I'm about to leave. Her last blowout took some skill because it went halfway up the back of her onesie, yet didn't soak through to her pants so she could still wear them. Her caretakers think outfit changes are her way of keeping mommy around a little longer. Which, given the skills her last blowout took, plotting may be in her wheelhouse too...

*You know who else is excited about baby on solids? The dog. First time baby sat in her highchair the dog was right there under the table at her feet. We're probably never going to have crumbs again.

Bad Dog

Dr soc told me he was going for a jog this morning before my doctor's appointment while I was still in bed sleeping in a little bit (omg with the pregnancy tired). Shortly after that I heard a rustling/crinkling noise coming from downstairs, but my concept of time was so off I just assumed he hadn't left yet and was making a lot of noise in the kitchen for some reason. Turns out, it was not dr soc, it was Jules.

That little dog went into my purse, ignored the peanut butter crackers and ate about a 1/4-1/2 cup of salted almonds. I called the vet and she'll be fine, but damit dog those almonds were my best pregnancy snack! Then Mike noticed a paw print on the couch table, and he said he had thrown a different wrapper in the trash yesterday but he didn't know what it was from. Upon closer inspection of the destroyed bag and crumbs, I realized she had eaten a huge peanut butter cookie. Probably about the same time Mike was mowing the lawn and I wasn't home from work yet.  

That little bitch figured out when her free range time. Yeah, we're not leaving her unattended anymore...

Culture Class

A coworker and I were discussing a sushi restaurant in town. She loves it, but I have issues with it.

me: that place is too loud. You have to yell to have any sort of conversation there.
m: yeah, but at least the sushi is so good and cheap.
me: not enough for me for that noise level.
m: everyone's yelling there, patrons to patrons, staff to staff, it's fun. Don't you love getting yelled at in another language?
me: Yeah, no. Here's where we differ. Because whenever I get yelled at in Chinese that means I'm in trouble.

Eat Me

So, something I legit need for my kitchen:
"DO NOT EAT" labels/signs.
Otherwise, my husband's hunger overtakes him and main/key ingredients fall victim to his voracious snacking.

No, seriously. Twice this week dinner plans were thwarted/nearly thwarted due to dr soc's snacking. I've been trying to get in the habit of menu planning, so I write down the 6 days of dinner ideas and shop accordingly. I like to try new recipes but usually only try one a week because I'm not insane.

Anyway, Monday was going to be chili pie. Chili, noodles, cornbread topping, bake. All things I had in the house. But when dr soc got home from his office hours he ate the leftover chili from Sunday's lunch for a snack. All of it. So no chili pie until I make another vat of chili. No biggie really, but it was fun to tease him.
And then tonight I asked if he could start prepping dinner since it was taking me such a long time to get home. I told him the cookbook to find the recipe and by the time I got home he had most of the marinade made. However, he told me when I got home that we almost didn't have enough cashews because he had once again snacked on a key ingredient when he got home from work!

I pretty much brayed like a jackass. But it's also a good thing I got home when I did because I got there before he added the garlic. Yeah, turns out dr soc didn't exactly know what a clove of garlic was. So even if we hadn't had enough cashews, the 4 heads of garlic would have certainly covered that void!

Pintrest Fail

My husband and I are both birthday people. Meaning, we both enjoy celebrating them and the attention/affection that comes along with them as well. Well, dr soc's birthday is February 19 and since that was a work day, I wanted to do a little something special so his students and coworkers would know. The night before I had the great idea for him to bring treats to class, so I was going to make chocolate covered mint oreos. Melt chocolate, stick a cake pop stick in the filling, dip, done.

Except.

If the cake pop sticks weren't in the exact center of the creme filling it would pop off the cookie halves. And the melted chocolate was too thick and would trap the smushed back-together cookie. In addition to that, since I wanted 3/4ths to the whole cookie covered in chocolate, when I spooned it over the cookie, the chocolate falling from the spoon was much more of a "plopping" than a smooth waterfall-like cascade. The uneven somewhat circular blobs of chocolate with cake pop sticks at random angles were a far cry from pintrest idea I had in my head. Rather than beat myself up about it, I scrapped whole treats for the class idea and brought the tasty but ugly cookies to work. 

And besides, I had done this to his office door before coming home

Birthday Bostons!

The full view - hehehe!

So I wasn't too upset about my pintrest fail when I knew that was waiting to surprise him the next day.
Here's a closeup of the two pictures that planted the decorate his door idea in my head:

Happy birthday indeed! SNARF!!!

 And this one:

Dancing Boston is feeling it!

And then we met for dinner at one of our favorite places and I gave him a shark beenie baby to add to his office menagerie. The tiny octopus and wind-up dinosaur were getting lonely after all. 

Milk Sandwiches

So we're getting real snow in North Carolina and the city is shutting down. The schools and libraries closed early and both have already call a snow day for tomorrow. Turns out you get just as excited about a snow day as an adult as you did when you were a kid. Well, at least you do when you have a salary so you don't worry about your paycheck being short, don't have to figure out childcare* plans and the only person you need to entertain is yourself. I'm pretty sure I'll change my tune to that last part after we have kids and a snow day means: oh crap what am I going to do to entertain the minions?**

Since Mike is grew up in Northeast Ohio snow was a matter of when not if. I grew up in Kentucky and we didn't get snow that often, but I know to keep a snow brush in my car and to charge all my battery powered devices just in case we loose power. So whenever snow is mentioned in the south, I always make a crack about needing to buying bread and milk. (We usually actually do need both though, Mike goes through both really fast!) Anyway, yesterday it was just a possibility of snow and everyone was freaking the fck out. I needed to run by the pharmacy so I was going to grab dinner too on my way home from class. I was going to get Panera but on on my way there I passed the grocery store. I thought: cheaper, better chance of leftovers and faster than waiting for take out. Yes. Good plan.


Yeah no. That was a grave misjudgement on my part. Because I forgot about every other southerner's need to make milk sandwiches whenever the S-word is mentioned.

*We're really lucky that and that the industries we work in if the kids have a snow day, more than likely at least one of us will have a snow day as well.
**Crafts. So. Many. Crafts.***
***But no glitter. Glitter is not allowed in my house.  

Den Mom

So I never saw this coming, but I really love NFL football. Growing up in Kentucky we only have one sport, (UK basketball), and even when I lived in Cincinnati I really just didn't care about the bengals. But when I moved to Charlotte, I decided I would be become a Panthers superfan, because I figured my (eventual-to-be) husband is a die hard Browns fan so I would be watching football anyway, I may as well cheer for the local team.
Turns out, I love the Panthers. Even when I first moved here we weren't that great (we had first pick in the draft! Wait.), I decided to be loyal. And I just adore our first round pick from last year, the young man Luke Kuechly. After Luke had a monster game, I decided I just loved him.  

However, the way I love him is like a momma lioness loves her cubs. He can stay in my spare bedroom, I'd tuck him in at night, and I'd make all his favorite foods (his NFL salary can cover the grocery bill it takes to feed a linebacker). And then I realized I had crossed yet another threshold into adulthood. Because my first thought was not: "I could be his girlfriend," it was: "I want to take care of him and make lunch." 

Coupon Queen

mike: I got some coupons from the oil change place for all the stuff that I did for my car. So if you need them in the next few months they're yours.
me: Thanks.
mike: I couldn't use them on anything I did today. So the guy said I could give them to my family, or my girlfriend. I guess he didn't see my ring!
me: Ha! Guess not. Though I have to say if you did give your girlfriend coupons I would be pissed.
mike: I bet.
me: And not about the girlfriend part. Well, ok, yeah, some of that would be that you have a girlfriend. But no, I'd be more pissed ab-
mike: About the coupons?
me: Yes! Exactly! You have a girlfriend and you give her coupons?  Low man.
mike: They were coupons for lunchables, You know, stuff you don't like.
me: -snort- Well if those are the coupons you gave her, then hahaha!. Because that means your dating a girl that eats lunchables and those hurt, when you know your wife has got it going on in the kitchen.
mike: Hahaha, true! 

Weirdo

While we were at my sister's meeting my niece, I tried to help out as much as I could by getting up for feedings and making a couple meals. I figure my sister has enough on her plate with a newborn, she didn't need to worry about being hostess to us and my parents on top of that.
Anyway. By making a couple meals, I mean one night I put 3 frozen pizzas in the over and called it dinner.  But I did have to go to the grocery store for those and some other ingredients, and I grabbed a gallon apple cider because that happens to be a weakness of mine. As we were getting dinner ready, Mike helped out by getting everyone something to drink.

me: Hey everyone, dinner will be ready soon. The pizza will be done in just a few more minutes.
mike: Ok thanks. What would everyone like to drink? I'm going to have water, Sarah, do you want one too?
me: Sure. Oh wait, no, I'll have cider.
mike: Cider with pizza?
me: Yeah. Did you want any?
mike: Nah, I think cider and pizza may be a weird combination. 
me: Suit yourself.
mike: What would everyone else like? Carolyn?
mom: I'll have cider too.
mike: Ok.... Steve?
dad: Cider.
mike: ok....Amy?
amy: I'll have cider, thanks!
me: See? Still think it's weird?
mike: Yeah, kinda. Maybe just your family. Grant will back me up on this, he married in, like me.
me: Uh-huh. Grant what would you like to drink?
grant: I'll have cider.
me: Hahahahaha! Now you're the odd man out, what with your pizza and water combination.
mike: Dammit.

Apron Time

My in-laws were visiting over the last few days, and I had the time so I prepared a few meals while they were here so as not to have to eat out 4 days in a row. I'm by no means a chef, but I can and like to cook and I have a lot of cookbooks. And over time I've grasped more and more on how things come together and my skills and cooking have improved to the point that the task of cooking for someone (or a group) doesn't seem as daunting as it once was. (Thanksgiving circa 2011).

As soon as I moved to Charlotte the kitchen became mine. My husband is good sport and will at least try everything too. (I've only made 2 completely inedible things so far: lemon kale and salt loaf) He's also a fairly smart man and compliments my cooking, enough that I actually believe he really does like my cooking.

But my favorite thing he's ever said about my cooking was said shortly after I moved in. He was coming back downstairs after changing out of his work clothes, just as I was about to start making dinner so I was putting on my apron. He sees me to that and excitedly says "it's apron time!" Apparently good things happen when it's apron time. :)

Stranger Danger

The other morning Mike and I were taking the dogs on a walk when we saw a loose little dog running around. I could see that it had a collar on and Mike had his phone with him, so we decided to try and see if we could find the owner.

However, the dog wouldn't let me come near it, and it snarled and yipped obnoxiously at me as I tried to coax it into approaching me. And also as the stupid thing kept running away from me it ran into and across the street at a time when a lot of people are leaving for work. Eventually the dog took off running into the neighborhood, towards the direction in what we hope was where it lives. Mike and I decided to not go after it since it wanted nothing to do with us, plus our dogs were starting to go nuts from just sitting there. There wasn't much we could do when the dog didn't give us anything.

We're continuing with our walk I turn around and mention to Mike that I'm really glad that when our dogs got out that they were complete trusting doofuses and ran up to a human who called us. It's a good thing for us that they don't have a stranger danger sense.

Then later that day at work someone left a few pieces of chocolate on my desk when I wasn't looking so I don't know who put them there. I probably should have been more wary of the mysterious candy and all stranger danger, but nope. They were wrapped, it was valentines day and I love chocolate, so I totally ate them anyway (and suffered no ill effects). I guess we know who the dogs got their lack of stranger danger sense from.

Grown Up Gifts

Today is my husband's 33rd birthday. So clearly, this is what I got him:

the sign says: ROAR! That's: Happy Birthday! in dinospeak

An inflatable T-Rex. Obviously.

And these are the cupcakes I sent him work with to share with his coworkers.

It was either sports or princess cupcake liners.
You can see why I chose the way I did.

He wouldn't let me decorate them with the little "score!" flags. Something about those not being professional?

Just wait and see what I have planned for 40!
Happy Birthday Honey!

Icing on the Cake

me: I have the gingerbread dough made, it just has to chill and then I can make the cookies.
mike: Cool. Do we have stuff to decorate the cookies?
me: -snort- No, you know I don't decorate cookies.
mike: You don't?
me: No.
mike: Oh yeah, we had this conversation last year... (sad face)

I don't decorate cookies. The closest I ever come to decorating is tossing a couple shakes of sprinkles on a cookie before they go in the oven. If a recipe calls for icing, glazing, rolling in sugar, or any other sort of  nonsense, forget it. Which is why my gingerbread usually looks like this:

Plain. But tasty 

But.

My husband loves icing. And I love my husband. And we're newlyweds so we still do sweet crap for each other like leaving notes in each other's lunch box and finding a recipe for royal icing for the gingerbread cookies. So this is what my gingerbread looks like this year: 

Fancy! And still tasty

Yep, I decorated the cookies this year! Not only that, I made the icing too. My husband looked so disappointed when he remembered I don't normally ice cookies that I couldn't bear to see him that way so I had to. They may not be the prettiest cookies ever, ok, even a little bit pretty, but my husband is happy. And that makes the best wife ever.

Fatten Up

Mike and I were watching the Panthers/Falcons game at a sports bar with some friends, and the Panthers made a play that the whole place started cheering and clapping, ourselves included. Then I hear this loud "PING" of some kind of metal hitting the floor, and out of the corner of my eye I see that that ping was Mike's wedding band FLYING OFF HIS HAND.

I see my husband leap up, his ring land under a bar stool, so I stand there and be helpful by pointing at it my mouth agape and clutching my chest. Within a matter of 30 seconds he has his ring back on his finger and he's back to sitting down, meanwhile, I'm still clutching my chest and nearly hyperventilating breathing a billion sighs of relief.

If this happens again we'll have to get his ring re-sized. Or I could just try to fatten him up by using more butter.  Either way it better not come off again!