Recipe failure: Scones

If only I took a photo of each and every food failure I've stirred, sautéed, and sieved through, I'd have a coffee table book with my face and SUCKER written on the cover.

So why do I keep going back to random food blogs instead of my tried & true recipe books -- you know, the ones that had their recipes tested about 7 times before it got published? Because ... Food blogs are cool and so many of them have gorgeous photos, it's easy to get sucked in. They're like bad dates. You know the ones. You're 6th sense says to drop him, but you're bored (and hungry) and he's just that cute. So you call him, go to dinner, and erase his number from your phone in the lonely cab ride home after he spent the entire night talking about how much money he'll be making "one of these days" and isn't he so sophisticated because he drinks Manhattans and "wait did I tell you that story about my ex?" (Yes, I am describing my life before marriage & kids).

When I found this recipe to these gorgeous scones, I couldn't resist running to the store to buy everything. Juicey plump scones smothered in lemon icing just like the kind old Lazy Janes makes back in Madison. 

Blackberries aren't to be found this time of year so I subbed raspberries. So sue me. Does this mean I deserve what I got? I'm just a lady looking for some love -- scone-style love.

Their scones: sinfully delectable

My scones: what sin did I commit to end up with these?

Thanksgiving 2014

The new AllState Commercial ... did they read my blog?

Innocently watching some TV the other night -- which is so unlike me because at 8:30 p.m., once the kiddos doze off, I'm usually on the computer or dozing off myself -- I see an AllState Commerical called "Off Day" and I couldn't believe I was watching myself on TV!

Vacuuming up the hamster? 
OK, so no I've never done this but I have vacuumed up socks and my son's Spider-Man Lego this morning (note to self: fish it out of the vacuum canister). And I do intentionally vacuum up the kitchen table after a messy breakfast (a little nod of the head to 1983's Mr. Mom).

Street clothes on your daughter for Ballet?
Um, so me! Except in my case it was gymnastics class. All the cute toddlers were in their cutesy leotards and my daughter shows up in her street clothes like Biff (I dunno why I use this term, a nod of the head to the bully in 1985's Back to the Future maybe?). Were we supposed to dress them like Mary Lou Retton? Does it really matter what she was wearing because I spent the entire class chasing after her as she expertly dodged tumblers, vaulters, and legs of all kind. I, on the other hand, chased her onto a mat (that she sprinted across like Legolas -- Lord of the Rings reference here) but that I sunk into like quicksand and sprained my ankle (reminding me that I weigh just a tad bit more than everyone else there.) The sad thing was that I did this about 3 times before yelling, "Uncle!"

My favorite Biff line, "Now make like a tree and get outta here."

Ripping apart fluffy Teddy in the washing machine? 
I haven't done this but my husband has just asked to take over Laundry duty. What man, unless he's Ryan Gosling or Crazy, asks to do the household laundry? This should give you a picture of how laundry is done around here when it's on my watch. Crummy.

itsblogworthy.com

Smashing your car into a lampost?
Well no, but I did smash my car into another mom's minivan after a playdate in a fake parking lot. I say Fake, because it's a dead end street used as a parking lot which right there should absolve me from any smashing of minivans, but hasn't because our rates went up anyway.

"I should totally start a Blog"
OMG! I have!

Did they read my post on how great a MOM I am and make this commercial in my image?  We even have the same hair! Ok, where are my royalties!?

The discontinued Winnie the Pooh Party

It all started with my daughter's love for Winnie the Pooh and an innocent search on Pinterest. 

"Innocent search on Pinterest." I can just keep repeating that phrase over and over again because women all over the world are losing sleep after having discovered Pinterest. I can just hear some innocent mom's voice crying for help .... "I just searched on Pinterest and now I'm up until 2 a.m. making fondant snowflakes for 3 dozen Frozen cupcakes. It looked so easy?! WTF am I doing?!?"

For me, as I said earlier, it all started with my daughter's love for Winnie the Pooh and that Innocent Search on Pinterest and ...

Of course! A cute Winnie the Pooh party complete with cute honey inspired brunch items, little Winnie-the-Pooh cups and plates in cheery yellow ...

...signs of the Hundred Akre Wood and maybe even a beehive piñata...

 The possibilities were endless, the pictures filled our hearts...

  

...and my husband and I gushed --this even made him gush -- over the possibilities. 

Our backyard was the perfect place to host this magical Winnie-the-Pooh party for our soon-to-be 2 year old darling.  We already had a sandbox (the sandy pit where Roo plays), a deserted area on the other side of the fence (Eyore's Gloomy Place), and a vegetable garden (Rabbits Garden), in addition to a bench under the tree (Pooh's thoughtful spot).  We were set.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the road to dreams, Reality & Pinterest have a head on collision which happened when I ran into Party City with a sleeping child slumped over my shoulder looking for their Pooh section and they told me they "discontinued Pooh." Who discontinues Pooh? Children all over the world (or at least under my roof) are sleeping with the "one who's stuffed with fluff," dreaming of honey pots and bouncing Tiggers. Discontinued Pooh? Really?

I did what any Mom with 15 minutes of free time would do and I bought yellow plates and napkins and then promptly ignored any reference to Winnie-the-Pooh and the zillion awesome pins from party professionals of the rich-and-famous and hoped the guests (and my kids) would forget that I sent out Pooh invites telling them to come to the Hundred-Acre Woods for a party.

Top Row:  1.My daughter stares at her stuffed Pooh from her pink tablecloth 2. If I stick Piglet between the yellow silverware, does that count? 3. It was a perfect day for a Pik-nik. I.e we didn't have enough seats.
Middle Row: 1. My daughter playing in the Sandy Pit Where Roo Plays. 2. Our brunch - ignore the absence of honey-themed foods and ignore the clearance table cloth with a Circus theme. 3. Does chalk on the walkway count for a sign?
Bottom Row: 1. Whole Foods won't put Pooh on a cake ... will bees and a hive count? 2. Party-girl. 3. Was there not a champagne bar in the 100-Acre Woods? Did you check Owl's house?

When Driving 11 Hours is Totally Worth It

I hate road trips.

So when I booked a small intimate resort 8.5 hours away (Lost Lake Lodge in Nisswa, MN), my husband thought I'd gone off the deep end. What's 8.5 hours when there are cabins to sleep in, a private lake to swim in, award winning food to stuff your face in, and most of all, family memories to create??  I failed to  imagine that when I booked this adventure, I'd have a newly potty trained 26 month old with us and that 8.5 hours would turn into 11 hours.

Did I mention how I always hated road trips?

There's nothing like that family memory of hanging out on the side of the road watching your daughter take an enormous crap in her baby bjorn when we had just stopped at 17 different flushable toilets each time she cried "POOPY!" (or WOLF).

Once we arrived to our idyllic resort nestled in the birch forest and saw the hammocks hung on trees and a private lake with canoes, we bolted from the car like clowns in a circus and ran straight to the beach.

This is the kind of resort where your kids make friends with the kids staying in the next cabin, where they can run free and you're only kind of concerned, and where you don't have to keep them away from the TV because there are none!

Breakfast & Dinner is included which means you don't have to cook or decide where our next meal is coming from. And what a meal! 4-course dinners and 2-course breakfasts make sure no one is walking away hungry or needing a lunch.  The small private lake and beach on one side is tiny and perfect for little feet in the sand or in a rowboat, and the lake on the other side is perfect for renting that Pontoon boat you always thought you might want to buy (um, no). Ladder ball, basketball, and badminton are at the beach too, along with a "Garage" with pool tables and old time video games. And let's not forget some classics like shuffleboard and horse shoes.

 When not at the resort ... Head out and rent bikes to trek the Paul Bunyan Trail, try go-carting and mini-golf, and make sure to stop for some small mini-donuts made fresh on the bike trail.

At night, enjoy your dessert after diner -- liquored-up coffee -- and light the bonfire at the beach. The best part is that when you go get the matches at the front desk, they give you a bag with everything to make s'mores too!

Our son asked, "Is this vacation?" It is, and we'll always remember it. And it only took 10 hours to get home.

Cats for Sale

Dear Cats,
I'm listing you both on eBay. I've had enough. I just got done extricating a huge poop out of my daughter's underwear, and I come downstairs to find that you vomited all over the family room carpet. Haven't I had enough disgusting bodily functions for one day? I get boogers wiped on my shirt, sneezes blown in my face, and demands to have 2 different asses wiped clean of crap. Do I need your vomit too?

Keep petting me until I tell you to stop, which is never.

And while we're at it:

• I'm not feeding you at 3 a.m. so you both can stop meowing at the top of your lungs.
• Thank you for ripping a hole the size of a chipmunk in the screen trying to get out of the house.
• No, I'm not going to pet you for 2 hours after the kids fall asleep.
• Stop leaving furballs around the house the size of mice.
• I'm sick of dropping $200 every time I have to bring you to the vet
• I'm sick of dropping $100 every week for your damn special cat food because you have damn urinary crystals that may cause you to either pee on our bed or die.

That's all I can think of now and I will for sure be leaving all of this off my eBay listing and instead describe you two as "very furry, very lovable, cats who enjoy laying in your lap [digging their nails into your bare skin.]"

Putting an ad in the paper for Mary Poppins

My daughter fell off of her chair last night at dinner.

The whole thing took place in slow motion, and yet I'm still not sure how it happened. Her entire chair fell to its side, taking my daughter down and her dinner plate up in the air. As my luck would have it, we were having quinoa so the airborn plate created a quinoa rain shower over the dinner table. As the person nearest to her, I reached out my hand and clutched her leg just in time so that her fall was a little softer. Nevertheless she still ended up face down, belly down on the floor covered in quinoa and chicken. 

In this house, I would expect nothing less than for a tumble off a chair to create a mess the size of the tri-state area.

I only have 2 children, but everything in this house seems to be louder, messier, crazier than a house full of Dugans (they have what, like 19 kids?)

One day my aunt stopped by after an acupuncture appointment.  She could only stay for a few minutes. Now my aunt's house is so clean and quiet it's like visiting Jefferson's Monticello. I'm pretty sure she she attaches velvet ropes across all her rooms and only allows her family to occupy 3 rooms in the house. You can drop by without notice and it looks like no one but a curator and people dressed up in period wear pretending to stoke a fire live here.

So my aunt visits and probably spends about 15 minutes with me and the kids in which they run around, play with toys all over the floor, messily eat lunch, and probably have a tantrum over what color their plate was.  To which my aunt looked and me and says, "You need Mary Poppins."

"I thought the mom in Mary Poppins was a suffragette," I began, "not just plain suffering?"

My aunt also has 2 children and claims that they both took 3-hour naps until they were 7 and never played with dirt and never got food on the floor and ... Well, we all know that parents suffer from amnesia when it comes to their kids. So I'm enjoying my messy house, my messy dinners, and my messy kids knowing that one day I'll be telling them, "I don't know why your children are Gila Monsters? You guys were so quiet and played so nice and never made a mess or threw your food."

One day.