an adventure daily

A Sugar Cookie is a Breakfast Food. I'm the Mom. I Say So.

2012-01-25T09:36:00.004-07:00

I'm making Pioneer Woman's Deep Dish Fruit Pizza for my school's breakfast potluck on Friday morning. Except I'll probably substitute the cookie recipe with a boxed one or a refrigerated roll. Sometimes you have to respect the shortcut. Or forget the respect and just accept the shortcut. It's really okay.Last year I made biscuits and gravy...I actually woke up early to bake biscuits and crock-pot the sausage gravy. This year, I'm all about simple, and sleep, and no crock-pot cleanup. The End.

(image: pioneer woman)

It's Leap Year. That's My Excuse.

2012-01-24T14:27:00.006-07:00

I like that this is the first time in four years that February will have 29 days. The last time February was +1, I was married; my child was shorter than me, and I hadn't seen my sister in four years. The only thing I wish had stayed the same is my daughter's height. Damn those tall genetics!

I've heard that crazy things can happen during a leap year. Or maybe it's a full moon. Either way, I'm ready for a little bit of a challenge. Not a crazy "hey, let's get arrested" type of challenge. Seriously, I'd like all my lawyering up to stay in 2011, thankyouverymuch.

I saw this photo challenge on Shelley's blog. Ohmygosh. Stop snickering and rolling your eyes. Yes. I know I didn't finish the challenge from last summer. It's okay. It's TwentyTwelve. A leap year. Crazy things can happen. I'm totally on the ball this year. Stop laughing. I'm serious.Let me end with a disclaimer: I will attempt to post a photo a day...this does not imply that I will take a photo a day. Even I know my limits.

Happy New Year, 2012!

2012-01-23T09:44:00.004-07:00

I know it's well into January. And I've been MIA since October. And it seems ridiculous that I can just pop in here with some belated New Year's greeting like I've been here all along and not completely tardy for the updating party. But I'm seriously not late. It really is the beginning of the new year -- err, the Chinese New Year, anyway. So, most happiest of new years, peeps!

To recap 2011:

January: official separation from that man :: banged on the door at the House of God for life/purpose/wtf? clarification :: lost 30 lbs because of the stress

February: my child turned 12 :: attended a NASCAR event with my best friend, Hilary :: started to think I was losing my mind from the stress

March: totally realized that even Adele understood what I was going through :: became a godmother to my Jakers :: visited my doctor and was diagnosed with PTSD (separation and finding out what your husband has been up to completely sucks) :: retained a lawyer

April: filed for divorce on April Fool's Day (yeah...the irony) :: ziplined with Ava :: my life list became self-aware

May: spent Mother's Day with my cousin and our daughters and huge bags of weeds (not bags of weed; hello!) :: my brain started to reconcile the fact that my life didn't end just because my marriage did :: was disfigured by an air hockey puck

June: went on a vacay with Ava to Florida for nine days :: drove to the Grand Canyon with Ava and Laura (first road trip ever with my sister!) :: started to feel normal again

July: 30 day photo challenge :: gave up Diet Coke (we've since reconciled) :: celebrated my birthday with my two favorite women, Laura and Angie

August: new school year started :: divorce decree finalized :: had fun being single for the first time in over 13 years

September: drank far too many Mojitos :: decided to keep my personal life private

October: updated my blog header :: started getting rid of all remaining traces of that man :: bought a brand new house on Halloween

November: prayed constantly that the house funding wouldn't fall through :: sold off everything that I didn't want or wouldn't miss or that was left behind by that man :: packed up an entire house

December: house loan closed successfully :: moved my child, two dogs, and a house full of furniture (along with some muscle-y help) on a rainy day :: slept in my own brand-new house paid for with my own money :: spent a perfect Christmas with my sister and Ava :: watched the entire fifth season of Dexter with Ava on the last day of 2011 :: realized that 2011 was finally over! (praise you, baby Jesus!)

I laughed more in 2011 than I have ever in my entire life. I peed my pants more, too. They kinda go together. For serious.

Keep Calm and Carry On

2011-10-26T20:25:00.003-07:00

There will be no self-revelatory post about the woes of my childhood. Pick an issue. I could probably pinpoint a decade in which I'd experienced it or the shockwaves of it. But that is not what this is about. I'm an adult. What my parents may or may not have done has no bearing on who I am. Except that is the biggest lie of them all. It does bear something. It does merit some mention.I've been optimistic about life for ever. I'm a glass half-full all the time type of person. I can see the good or the benefit or the calm in any storm. And that in and of itself is on par with psychosis. It's almost a crazy re-rationalizing of a trauma. Why deal with the negativity when one can focus on the positive side of each and every single situation? It's more a glossing over than an actual coping with the issue mentality.

I find myself being extraordinarily critical of me based on a long-gone opinion held by that man. It's an opinion that needs to go away. Find a new home. I should post that man's opinion up for grabs on the List of Craig. It wouldn't go for much, but at least I'd be rid of it. At least it wouldn't play over and over in my head like a soundtrack.

I got lost in that man's words. I found some truth in the criticism. Only some, though. But those words are no longer relevant to me. They do not define who I am, who I was, or anything about me. They were ignorant words that I awarded with value. They were fake and silly and unworthy of my attention.

Now, I need to learn to deal with words from the present. I don't need to try to be perfect. In my sweet and charming guy's eyes, I am. It's a big lesson for me. I spent years spinning and now to just be is akin to standing still. My brain needs to learn to enjoy the calm. I can cope just as well in calm as I did in chaos. Only then will the soundtrack cease playing, and the words will go away.

(image: pinterest)

being me :: october

2011-10-24T20:49:00.011-07:00

It's finally fall. I'm better than ever.

where am I? I am at home after a day off of school for the kid and I. We took a Monday holiday. On purpose. Some would call it skipping school. And I'd have to smile with no shame at having done just that.

what time is it? 7:07pm

who am I? I am an ultra-productive, paper-shredding, craigslisting, eBay auction preparing, Goodwill drop-offing, clutter-ridding momma. File cabinets are now empty. Cupboards of mismatched dishes, never worn shoes, and kinda boring books are on their way to new homes. Old sporting equipment (mine and stuff that man left behind) has been photographed and listed. My new motto: it'll make me money or be donated. Either way, my house is no longer taken up with any of that man's belongings. And that makes me extremely happy.

(image: alicepalice)

An American Beauty

2011-10-02T18:24:00.007-07:00

The guy and I were out and about on Saturday when we happened upon this ginormous house on a corner lot in the East Valley. I about caused him to crash the car in my excitement as he placated my "Ohmygosh, did you see that house? How did you not see that house? What do you mean you're paying attention to the road?" ramblings by flipping the car around and parking on the side of a private drive. I did a little through the hedges and fence trespassing and took some photographs of my veritable dream house.
There was a sign out front that indicated that Billy, the entrepreneur, was selling pigeons if we wanted to inquire within. The property had fruit trees, a horse, a goose, and of course, the farmhouse requisite chickens.
After googling the property (it's an American Farmhouse style) and the adjacent plots of land, it seems that this was the main house of a huge grove-like plantation. I will for sure have to spend some time researching the heyday of this house -- I can only imagine how the house looked with ten kids running across the lawn chasing the chickens.
It needs a whole lot of work. And it would take a whole lot of money. Heck, it's not even for sale. But wow, this house just completely needs to be mine.

A Much Needed Update

2011-10-01T10:00:00.006-07:00

A year and a half ago, I redesigned my entire blog. I thought it would be a simple point, click, and wow pretty process. Right. I am way pickier than that. Of course.

The header went from this
to this
And in a marathon 17-hour stint, I completely built, rebuilt, and rebuilt (times 20 seemingly) my sister's blog. She likes to move things around. A lot. Yes, it's easier than moving furniture but just as labor intensive and cussing heavy. I love her for it, though. That blog design episode taught me a ton about html, and I now know that you can absolutely google anything including "why the heck is my sister's blog driving me to drink?"

Last night, my cute, charming guy came over and sat with me while I redid my blog header and background. He taught me some Photoshop shortcuts and tricks, and thirty minutes later, I had my new redesign.
In the past eighteen months, I've evolved from "attempting to accomplish everything" to just being happy being me. Both filled with mishaps, I'm sure. But no matter what, from now on, they will be my mishaps. I'll own that!

I Think I'll Keep Him to Myself

2011-09-28T22:01:00.001-07:00

Now that I have made it to this side of my divorce, people want to know things. And they are not afraid to ask. I'm not a reveal-er by nature. I like to hold things pretty close. I've learned not to be interested in seeking people's opinions as I find that people are sometimes contrary just to be contrary. Or they think that their opinion is law...I asked for an opinion about a hair color not a life makeover, thanks.I've had to be concise and witty to get people to stop asking for details about my life after the divorce. It would be rude to just spout off "um, mind your own business much?", and hello!, I am nothing if not proper. So, to answer, in order

Yes, I really did wait to be legally divorced before I did anything with any man.
Yes, anything. Even that.
Yes, I am very happy.
Yes, I knew him when I was married.
No, it wasn't like that.
Yes, he knows I have a child. Yes, this was an actual question asked of me to my face.
Yes, he knows my child. He has for years now.
Yes, he knew (or knew of) my ex-husband. He has for years now.
No, again, it wasn't like that.
Yes, he really is as good of a man as I have told you. I can't keep that to myself.
Yes, he knows that he is dating a family.
Yes, he is more than happy with that.
No, I do not care what that man thinks. Why would anyone ask me this?
No, I have not introduced him to that man as my boyfriend. I do not speak to that man.
No, I am not hoping to make that man jealous. I really could care-the-fu@k-less.
Yes, he is a kind, amazing, good-looking man.
Yes, my child adores him.
Yes, some of my friends, my sister, and my sister-cousin know him or enough about him to identify him.
No, it's not [_______] (pick a name and fill in the blank).
No, I will not tell you who he is even if you do guess. Thanks.

(image: weheartit)

My Heart is Damaged

2011-09-24T17:17:00.004-07:00

My marriage and divorce has left me somewhat shaken and warbly. The idea that I could be worthy and appreciated and in a relationship again was seemingly unfathomable. And yet, here I am. I ask only one thing of this cute and charming man and that's to be patient and understanding when I appear aloof and indifferent and indecisive and difficult. It's not him; it's me. The slightly protective of me real me.

Damaged
by Danity Kane

Do, do you got a first aid kit handy?
Do, do you know how to patch up a wound?
Tell me, are you
Are you patient, understanding?
Cause I might need some time to clear the hole in my heart and I

I've tried every remedy
And nothing seems to work for me
Baby (baby)
This situation's driving me crazy
And I really wanna be your lady
But the one before you left me so

Damaged, damaged
Damaged, damaged
I thought that I should let you know
That my heart is
Damaged, damaged
So damaged, so damaged
And you can blame the one before

So how you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
(Baby I gotta know what are you gonna do?)
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
(Baby I gotta know what are you gonna do?)
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
(Baby I gotta know what are you gonna do?)

Do, do you got a first aid kit handy?
Do, do you know how to patch up a wound?
Tell me, are you
Are you patient, understanding?
Cause I might need some time to clear the hole in my heart and I

You try to gain my trust
Talking is not enough
Actions speak louder than words
You gotta show me something
My heart is missing some pieces
I need this puzzle put together again

Damaged, damaged
Damaged, damaged
I thought that I should let you know
That my heart is
Damaged, damaged
So damaged, so damaged
And you can blame the one before

So how you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
(Baby I gotta know what are you gonna do?)
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
(Baby I gotta know what are you gonna do?)
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
(Baby I gotta know what are you gonna do?)

Can you fix my h-e-a-r-t
Cause it d-a-m-a-g-e-d
Can you fix my h-e-a-r-t
Tell me are you up for the challenge
Cause my heart is

Damaged, damaged
Damaged, damaged
I thought that I should let you know
That my heart is
Damaged, damaged
So damaged, so damaged
And you can blame the one before

Damaged, damaged
Damaged, damaged
I thought that I should let you know
That my heart is
Damaged, damaged
So damaged, so damaged
And you can blame the one before

So how you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it
How you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it

My heart is damaged, damaged, damaged

My heart is damaged, damaged, damaged

My heart is damaged, damaged, damaged

My heart is damaged, damaged, damaged

My heart is damaged

being me :: september

2011-09-22T10:21:00.014-07:00

It is now September; I missed July and August's editions. It's okay. I'm here.

where am I? I am in that moment where you find yourself speechless from an amazing compliment.

what time is it? 8:34pm, Wednesday night

who am I? According to a cute, charming man and his completely out of the blue (with no provocation or hinting or pursuing on my part at all!) text, I am Audrey Hepburn (or maybe Holly Golightly) à la Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Him: I'm telling you, you are my Audrey Hepburn-style girlfriend.
Me: What makes me Audrey-esque?
Him: You have seen Breakfast at Tiffany's, right?
Me: A very long time ago.
Him: Well, you're beautiful, classy, you have that 1950s housewife appeal where you play the woman role and let me play the man role.
Him: It reminds me of the part in the movie where they're out having fun in the store when they put on the masks and joke around.
Him: We're cute together. People stop and make comments. I've never had that happen...ever. We're a cute couple.
[I sat there reading those three texts...for a few minutes]
Him: I've left you speechless?
Me: No. You left me thinking how much of a blessing you are in my life.

Advice from an Eighth Grader

2011-09-20T09:17:00.004-07:00

Sometimes it takes the wisdom of a grieving 13 year old to truly touch me and make me laugh and cry at the same time. And this is how I know God speaks directly to me. By whatever means necessary.

Dear Ms. Daily,
I know your stressed because you keep calling yourself Mrs. Daily instead of Ms. Daily [I've taken to answering the phone as "Mrs. I mean Ms. Daily"...I crack myself up every time]. All you need is a girl's night out. You need to get back in the game. Meet some guys, hang with your friends, and have a Piña Colada (that's my sister's favorite drink). Hey, maybe meet some guys! While your at it, buy a new outfit and go to a club. Dance til you can't dance anymore. Spend time with Ava too. Talk to her, take her to the mall, roller rink, anywhere where you two can talk.

I had a passing in my family. It was my mom, during the summer and your sister was during school, but either way, I still know how you feel. But the bright side is your sister is taking care of you and my mom is looking over me. So we both sort of have our own guardian angels.

~Anaya
(your consultant)

The Mojito Made Me Do It!

2011-09-05T18:12:00.005-07:00

I make no apologies. Except for the time I kept chanting "mojito mama". Or the time I tried to get a certain someone to show my sister a certain something (I still think she would have enjoyed seeing it). I have learned that mojitos in excess affect my balance, my ability to navigate stairs, and act as a complete truth serum. Apparently, something in the mojito increases my sassiness (and assertiveness)...to the benefit of a certain someone.

Thank you, baby Jesus, for the awesomeness that is my life.

January 27, 2011

2011-08-31T20:33:00.009-07:00

It was a Thursday night. I was invited to a women's bible study group. We wrote ourselves a letter that was going to be mailed back to us in six months. I just got my letter in the mail today. Thank you Jesus, but I am not that January woman anymore.
On January 27th, 2011, I wrote

Dear Diana,
Today, you
-created your trial separation document
-realized that Destiny was 27 when she died on the 27th of Dec. She will never have her golden birthday.
-tried again to get that man to see things your way - it's not working.
-thought seriously about buying a bungalow downtown.

Today, you explained your tattoo using [Nehemiah] 9:19. Today, you are kinda hoping that that man will go to the marriage conference. Kinda. In six months, I hope you aren't in this same place. I hope that there is some form of resolution. I hope that you have peace.

Keep going to ZUMBA. Keep going to church. God can provide. Remember that. Keep calling your friends. Keep loving yourself. Keep your faith. It's all good. This is the day!

[love] Diana

Today, I'd have to write back

Dear Diana,
You did it. You moved on. You have peace. You are no longer held back by a man that could never/would never appreciate you. You are more than the awful adjectives that man used to describe you. You have an entire life ahead of you. There are no regrets only lessons learned. And so much fun to be had.

You are close to and loved by the most amazing women: your sister, your cousin, and your daughter. You have the most amazing friends. You are a god-mother to an amazing boy. You did all of this. Without that man.

Every single day, you are blessed. Every single day, you pray to stay on the right path. Every single day, you laugh. A lot.

[love] Diana

Moves Like Jagger

2011-08-28T16:39:00.008-07:00

Ever since that man left on December 26th, I have acted in a very proper and respectable manner...I held on to my vows even after I filed, even after that man revealed what he had been up to, even when I thought I just needed the validation of a man to boost my confidence. I didn't have to give that man this type of consideration, and I didn't. I did it for me. I did it so I could look at myself in the mirror every morning with the full knowledge that I carried myself with dignity and respect to the very end.

My divorce decree was finalized by the judge on August 18th. I have now been single for all of ten days. And I am already having a blast. Enough said.

Moves Like Jagger
Maroon 5 featuring Christina Aguilera

Just shoot for the stars
If it feels right
And aim for my heart
If you feel like
Can take me away and make it OK
I swear I'll behave

You wanted control
So we waited
I put on a show
Now we're naked
You say I'm a kid
My ego is big
I don't give a shit
And it goes like this

[Chorus]
Take me by the tongue
And I'll know you
Kiss me 'til you're drunk
And I'll show you

All the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger

I don't need to try to control you
Look into my eyes and I'll own you

With the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger

Baby it's hard
When you feel like you're broken and scarred
Nothing feels right
But when you're with me
I make you believe
That I've got the key

So get in the car
We can ride it
Wherever you want
Get inside it
And you want to steer
But I'm shifting gears
I'll take it from here
And it goes like this

[Chorus]
Take me by the tongue
And I'll know you
Kiss me 'til you're drunk
And I'll show you

All the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger

I don't need to try to control you
Look into my eyes and I'll own you

With the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger

[Bridge]
You want to know how to make me smile
Take control, own me just for the night
But if I share my secret
You're gonna have to keep it
Nobody else can see this

So watch and learn
I won't show you twice
Head to toe, ooh baby, rub me right
But if I share my secret
You're gonna have to keep it
Nobody else can see this

And it goes like this

[Chorus]
Take me by the tongue
And I'll know you
Kiss me 'til you're drunk
And I'll show you

All the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger

I don't need to try to control you
Look into my eyes and I'll own you

With the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger
I've got the moves like Jagger

day twenty-five [something pink]

2011-08-11T17:23:00.001-07:00

The photo:
OPI Strawberry Margarita. My birthday pedicure. Love you sister!

day twenty-four [animal]

2011-08-10T08:57:00.002-07:00

The photo:
Ted. Teddy. Bear. He doesn't really have a name. But he's been mine since before I was born. And despite all the craziness that was my childhood, he made it through. He has sat on my bedside dresser since I was in high school. Almost a long time.

day twenty-three [sunflare]

2011-08-09T21:04:00.001-07:00

The photo:
Two sand storms and a monsoon later. Gorgeousness.

day twenty-two [hands]

2011-08-08T20:58:00.000-07:00

The photo:
Ava's first day of middle school. My first day ever starting a school year not using Mrs. as my title. After a super-successful shoe shopping trip (we bought six pairs!), Ava wanted to have dinner at Red Lobster. She's big enough now to struggle with the crab legs on her own. And I am big enough to be just fine being a Ms.

I Sing Like I Feel

2011-07-31T07:15:00.005-07:00

The three of us filed for divorce. For a variety of reasons. And we're better for it.

October 2009 - Ang

February 2010 - Laura

April 2011 - Diana

(title quote: Ella Fitzgerald)

day twenty-one [faceless self-portrait]

2011-07-30T19:23:00.000-07:00

I am post-posting the next nine or ten photo challenges. I'm like that sometimes.

The photo:
My sister totally surprised me by flying in from California the Thursday before my birthday. Not only did she keep it a secret from me for over a month, but she got many of my friends involved as well. I will never forget the moment when I opened my front door and my bestest best friend in the whole world was standing on my doorstep alongside my sister-cousin. If this is a sign of awesome things to come, I am totally going to love this next year. I can just feel it.

day twenty [bokeh]

2011-07-20T11:16:00.002-07:00

The photo:
I want to take a photo like this someday. Which means I need to buy a better camera and a white step-stool, install new baseboards, and grow taller. Okay. For now, I will just appreciate the bokeh effect. There's less work involved.

(image: flickr)

day nineteen [something orange]

2011-07-19T11:43:00.001-07:00

The photo:
Two little squeaky toys Ava and I bought for the doggie-girls while we were on vacation in Florida. The doggie-girls could care less about them. In fact, I think the squeak feature scares Ruby and annoys Brownie. Whatever. It's the thought that counts.

day eighteen [my shoes]

2011-07-18T10:10:00.001-07:00

The photo:
GUESS. I was never a shoe type of gal. I am now. Things change. And some things are better than they were before. That man's (former) side of the closet has been re-purposed to accommodate my growing collection of high heels. Definitely a more efficient and more beautiful use of the space.

day seventeen [technology]

2011-07-17T09:51:00.003-07:00

The photo:
My iPad with the Kindle app. In May, I bought this Apple Awesomeness as a gift to myself for surviving (and ultimately thriving through) five months of cah-raziness. I don't miss flipping pages as much as I thought I would. Especially given that I can read books, check my email, update facebook, and shop online all from the comfort of my bed. You can't do that with a paperback, now can you?!?

day sixteen [long exposure]

2011-07-16T13:05:00.001-07:00

The photo:
I went with the definition of this technique instead of the technique itself.

(definition: source)

day fifteen [silhouette]

2011-07-15T22:08:00.005-07:00

The photo:
My next piece of art. I have no idea where I found this drawing (probably etsy). Angie and I have a date on August 5th to get our creative on, and I think this will be my project to recreate/paint. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, after all.

(Polaroid processed from my hard drive.)

day fourteen [eyes]

2011-07-14T14:01:00.003-07:00

The photo:
My freckle-faced wondermutt, Ruby. With a scarf on her head. It was the only way to get her to stay calm enough to keep her in focus. She vibrates with enthusiasm and life.

Favorite Tampon Commercial. Ever.

2011-07-14T12:35:00.005-07:00

I never thought to have a favorite tampon commercial. And now I do.

Woman: The ads on TV are really helpful 'cause they use that blue liquid, and I'm like "oh, that's what's supposed to happen!"

day thirteen [me + 13 things]

2011-07-13T19:19:00.005-07:00

The photo:
I downloaded Jennifer Weiner's new book, Then Came You, to the Kindle app on my iPad. I'm one of those people. The type that can't put down a good book for any reason. Even a full night's sleep. The book was released yesterday, and I think I stayed up until 4am reading. Which explains why my daughter caught me napping.

There are at least 13 things I could name in the photo, but my favorite thing is my bear that my mom bought when she was six months pregnant with me (which means the bear is older than me!) sitting to the right of my iPad. Twentieth century entertainment meets twenty-first.

day twelve [sunset]

2011-07-12T20:18:00.005-07:00

The photo:
As I got out of my car and waited for the sun to go down, two men (firefighters, I found out) jogged by and asked me if I needed any help. I replied that I was just trying to get a good shot of the sunset. The cute one told me to be careful as a lady was accosted in the area a couple of years ago. I smiled and said, "Wow! Here we are sharing a sunset, and you bring up another woman!"

I could still hear them both laughing when I got back in my car and drove away.

Best. Chicken. Salad. Ever.

2011-07-12T12:43:00.007-07:00

My own chicken salad recipe. Inspired by Paradise Bakery. Not a knock-off, though. Just an inspiration. I felt like I needed to put that out there.

1 (5 to 7 lb) rotisserie chicken, meat shredded and chopped
1 cup light mayonnaise
2 stalks of celery, diced
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
3/4 cup chopped walnuts
juice from 1/2 lime
handful cilantro, finely chopped
1/4 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp ground mustard
1 1/2 tsp garlic powder (I used the one with parsley - California style)
salt and pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients together in large bowl. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving. Serves 6.

Ava just asked if she could lick the mixing bowl. Like it was dessert. It's a proud parenting moment when your kid is excited by protein and vegetables!

(image: source)

Diet Coke ees No More

2011-07-12T10:36:00.011-07:00

I'm about to make a shocking declaration. You're going to need to sit down. I'll wait.

Okay, here goes...I've given up Diet Coke. I know, I know. You've probably talked to me about my "crack of choice." You've most likely quoted some study about the pickling of my brain/internal organs/eternal soul because of all the aspartame I've consumed in the last eight years. You've definitely laughed at me when I declared that my refrigerator is in Code Red Status (meaning I'm down to my last hit and I need to venture out to get my fix). But all that has changed. I'm better, faster, stronger (thanks, Kanye!).I drank my last Diet Coke on Sunday. I bought my last twelve pack when my sister was in town. I'm making smart changes, better choices, and still avoiding exercise. Listen, I can only work on one thing at a time!

Now, just like any real addict, I need a substitute for my toxin. Drug addicts get methadone (I tried to teach my godson to say "I need my methadone, Mom!" Andrea almost ripped up my godparenting contract - she told me she would take it up with Jesus, personally. I love her.). And I've got my own iced tea recipe.

Starbucks Iced Tea on the Cheap
1 TAZO Awake Black Tea teabag
2 Sweet & Lows
a splash of Trop 50 Lemonade

Boil water and steep tea for five minutes. Pour into glass over ice. Add the sweetener and lemonade. Stir. Makes 2 servings.

It's as delicious as the real thing. On the cheap! It's not Diet Coke, but I don't need that she-it anymore. Okay?!?

(image: weheartit)

day eleven [something blue]

2011-07-11T11:30:00.004-07:00

The photo:
In 1996, my boyfriend presented me with my first Tiffany blue box. In it was this teeny tiny bracelet with a heart charm. I attempted to look both gracious and anorexic as I tried to figure out how to get the bracelet on my wrist. I'm sure he thought it was silly when we broke up months later that I kept going on and on about the audacity of the mini-bracelet. It would be another year and a half before I found out that the bracelet was actually a key chain.

My darling sister has become fluent in Tiffany's as well. One of my favorite gifts of all time is this set of playing cards. Now, I haven't actually played with the cards...I mean they are Tiffany's playing cards, after all.

day ten [childhood memory]

2011-07-10T09:16:00.000-07:00

The photo:
I got my first Barbie in 1981. She was magnificent. Gold lamé disco outfit. Hair that could be curled with the plastic styling accessories that were included! I was in love. And then I lost her in a move to a new house.

Five years ago, Angie and I were antiquing in downtown Glendale when I came around a corner and there she was...my Golden Dream Barbie "mint in the box." She even had an original Benjamin Franklin price tag of $9.99. When I took the box to the cash register, I had already accepted that I would have to pay the 2006 price for such a treasure. Fortunately, the cashier took one absent-minded glance at the vintage price tag and charged me a whopping $9.99 plus tax. I paid, grabbed my Barbie, and ran out of that store before the cashier came to her senses.

I've only played with her once. I smoothed and brushed her hair (hello, she'd been in the box for 25 years!), and I flattened her sheer disco ensemble. She stands proudly on a book shelf in my living room, and she has been admired many many times over the years. But played with? Heck no; she's vintage, man!

day nine [someone I love]

2011-07-09T08:38:00.001-07:00

The photo:
My daughter. On our amazing Grand Canyon trip with my sister.

(A snapshot of my computer screen desktop.)

day eight [a bad habit]

2011-07-08T10:07:00.002-07:00

The photo:
I'm naturally inquisitive, yes. Usually, I know the answer before it's spoken. To the question "Why did you cheat on the test?," I understand that the response will fall within the range of "I didn't want to fail" or "I didn't study and my parents would ground me if I got an F." This year (ever loving ridiculous and astounding 2011), my normal cross-examination skills have failed to produce the answers I seek.

I keep asking "why?" in the hope that the answer will finally make some sense. How is it that a person can make a vow only to break it, and then answer the question "why?" with "I just don't want this life anymore. I don't want to be married.?" And still I ask "why?." Because that answer that he gave is not good enough. It's not deep enough. It's not smart enough.

Then again, that man was never any of those things anyway. So along with holding on to any hope that this situation will ever provide any clarity, I also need to break the bad habit of asking questions for which he will never have a satisfactory answer.

day seven [fruit]

2011-07-07T13:43:00.000-07:00

The photo:
It's my easy-to-reach-for, always a staple in my fridge, healthy snack. Sometimes I eat yogurt for breakfast. Most of the time I eat yogurt to stave off my profound desire to bake. On Sunday, I gave in and baked a cake. Totally worth it.

Magnolia Bakery Vanilla Cake
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 cups sugar
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups self rising flour*
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 350°.

In a large bowl, on the medium speed of an electric mixer, cream the butter until smooth. Add the sugar gradually and beat until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Combine the flours and add in four parts, alternating with the milk and the vanilla extract, beating well after each addition.

Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until a cake tester inserted into center of cake comes out clean.

*One cup of self-rising flour contains 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon of salt.

day six [from a low angle]

2011-07-06T16:35:00.003-07:00

The photo:
On my couch. With the ceiling fan on lazy speed. The only way to survive the hot summer days.

day five [from a high angle]

2011-07-05T09:55:00.006-07:00

The photo:
My current project. For perspective, the d is over two feet tall. The brushed bronze piece in the upper left corner is the chandelier I had to hold on to as I stood on the media cabinet to take the photo. I'm not a stable climber. In any sense. Balancing on the cabinet while holding on to a swaying chandelier while attempting to take a photo was quite enough adventure for today!

I created this piece of art four years ago, but it needed a slight modification. I removed the f from the d f a that used to adorn the old door I have hanging in the niche in my living room. Since that man is no longer part of the equation, it will simply read d & a.

day four [something green]

2011-07-04T10:37:00.005-07:00

The photo:
I love salsa so much that a couple of years ago, I used salsa as a teaching tool. My students had to bring in a recipe and the salsa as an example of fractions and proportions in real life. I had an ulterior motive, though. I was really gunning for the perfect salsa recipe. Unfortunately, my students' parents were a lot more savvy than I anticipated, and they guarded those time-honored secrets from the likes of white-girl me.

My attempts at salsa have seen many incarnations: too garlicky, too salty, too peppery, and way too watery. But, finally, I happened upon a salsa recipe (Pioneer Woman's, of course) that has passed the test of acceptance (Andrea's mom makes such fantastic salsa that no other is allowed at family functions -- until mine!), and I'm taking it with me for our Fourth of July celebration at my godson's house. I've already sampled it. Many many times. I have no shame in saying that it is perfect.

day three [clouds]

2011-07-03T15:37:00.005-07:00

The photo:
I took this photo yesterday (as a practice run for today's challenge). It's a good thing I did as there is not one visible cloud today; the normally blue sky is overcast and blech. Monochromatic skies so do not photograph well. At all.

day two [what I wore today]

2011-07-02T11:01:00.004-07:00

The photo:
The weather is predicted to be upwards of 120 degrees today. Seriously. I asked a friend of mine to come over to help me sort through the junk/not junk that that man left behind in my garage. He said that he would come over bright and early at 7am (to avoid the scorching heat) as long as I fed him breakfast. I did. My garage is apparently a project better undertaken when my trash can is empty. More junk than not. It was too hot to attempt today anyway. So I will enjoy relaxing the rest of my day in my favorite outfit of thin crop sweats, an Old Navy tank, and Old Navy flip flops. And maybe my bathing suit later on.

day one [self-portrait]

2011-07-01T13:13:00.010-07:00

The photo:
What you can't see: I have a chihuahua in my lap. Keicha's chihuahua. Ava and I are doggie-sitting for the weekend. My two dogs were torn between vying for my attention in a jealous haze and scaring the unsuspecting delivery man that rang the doorbell just as I snapped the photo. I jumped so much from the insane three dog barking that I probably looked like I'd been caught in flagrante delicto when I answered the door. The delivery man left with a really puzzled look on his face. Like I was going to explain that I was just trying to take a photo of myself...yeah, that sounds completely innocent enough!

30 Day Photography Challenge

2011-06-30T13:35:00.009-07:00

I'm absolutely joining Andrea on this challenge. Fine. So we all know how well I do with starting projects and then falling off somewhere around step "wait patiently for ___ to dry." I admit that I either don't wait (thereby messing up the project causing it to sit in its jacked up state for all of eternity) or I wait and leave it alone just long enough for me to grow disinterested (also causing the project to sit unfinished for all of eternity). But this is 30 days of photos. With no dry time.

And really, I'm ready to take on a new project as Project Divorce That Man is almost at its final step. I take it back; I am totally getting way better at finishing things!
Sister and sister-cousin, are you in? We start tomorrow!

being me :: june

2011-06-24T10:28:00.005-07:00

It's been more than six months. I'm here.

where am I? I am in an in-between place. My divorce is not yet final. The grief of my marriage being over has not yet passed.

what time is it? It's time for everything to be normal again. It's about damn time.

who am I? I'm not sure. And I'm okay with that. I think.

Lemon. Blueberry. Delicious.

2011-06-22T07:18:00.002-07:00

Dear my lovies Ava,

This morning, you are getting braces. I'm not going to lie - they are not super-fun. But in the interim, I know what I want for breakfast while you are still in a good mood and very little pain.

Lemon Blueberry Pancakes

Now go be a good girl and find the griddle.

Always,
your lovies Mom

PS: Yes, you are taller than me. And you need to remember that you spent most of your life shorter than me. Just saying.

(image: White Lilly)

It's the First Day of Summer...

2011-06-21T16:13:00.000-07:00

...and man, I have never been so happy to see a winter and spring pass by. The first two seasons of 2011 have been ridiculous. Okay, let me clarify when my seasons actually start. My last day of school was the Friday before Memorial Day. In May. Summer started for me that Saturday. My "summer" has been completely amazing (spoken in Diddy's white girl voice) with a week-long vacation to Florida and a weekend jaunt to the Grand Canyon.

Today ushers in the real first day of summer. Last year, I worked on Martha's Summer to-dos. I'm gonna change it up this year and work on a list of my own. A list of cocktails that I must perfect.

French Mango Mojito
2 parts mango rum
1/2 part fresh lime juice
1/2 part simple syrup
3-4 mint sprigs
3 lime wedges
2-3 splashes club soda

Serve over ice in a tall glass. Garnish with a mint sprig and a lime.

Fresh Cherry Lime Press
2 ounces cherry vodka
1/4 ounce Grenadine
1/4 ounce Rose's Lime Juice
2 ounces sweet and sour mix
2 ounces Sprite
Ice cubes
Lime wheel and Maraschino cherries for garnish.

Put all the ingredients into a glass filled with ice. Stir well. Garnish and enjoy.

Pomegranate Martini
1.5 ounces peach vodka
3 ounces pomegranate juice
2 ounces orange juice
1.5 ounces Sprite

Mix ingredients in shaker with ice, and serve in chilled martini glasses. Enjoy.

Nothing That You Are

2011-06-15T17:37:00.007-07:00

Mandy Moore wrote this song. And I sing it all the time, decidedly off-key. Just so you know.

Nothing That You Are

Somebody told me they saw you somewhere.
Somebody hold me cause suddenly I'm a little cold.
Well I must be mistaking you for somebody else;
I know you all to well, or do I?

I heard you say
We were one and the same.
Well, wrong again.
I could never do those things you did to me.
I will be okay.
In time you'll fade
Into the nothing that you are
The nothing you are

Somebody sold me, yeah, the same old story.
Yea yeah, yea yeah
Hadn't you told me you were there the whole time?
Yea yeah, yea yeah
Well I must be mistaking you for somebody else;
I hope you burn in hell, or do I?

I heard you say
We were one and the same.
Well wrong again.
I could never do those things you did to me.
I will be okay.
In time you'll fade
Into the nothing that you are
The nothing you are

I know your mistakes will hunt you down, eventually.
You'll know that when you hit the ground.
Your weakness did you in and dealt me out.
It's okay, I have the truth on my side.

I heard you say
We were one and the same.
Well wrong again.
I could never do those things you did to me.
I will be okay.
In time you'll fade
Into nothing that you are
The nothing you are
The nothing you are
The nothing you are
The nothing you are

...the Good Guy Sticks Around

2011-05-28T11:05:00.002-07:00

Dr. Jean Grey: Girls flirt with the dangerous guy, they don't bring him home; they marry the good guy.
Wolverine: I can be the good guy.
Dr. Jean Grey: Logan, the good guy sticks around.

Sometimes I think I am a mutation of myself. I've been taken apart and re-assembled. I'm recognizable as the person I once was, but ultimately, it's like my DNA has been altered.

In the past six months, I have heard varying versions of the cliche "time heals all wounds." It's a lie, though. This isn't a broken arm; this is a broken heart. Time hasn't healed me. Time has allowed me to learn to function inside an excruciating amount of pain. There isn't healing per say. There is an acceptance that I now (and maybe forever) will live with a sadness and grief that I once never had. That I once never knew existed outside of a Danielle Steel novel. In describing myself, I would have never said that at the core of my personality is any semblance of melancholy. I carry that with me now. It's the subscript of who I have become.
Seemingly, the pain and anger and disappointment have been grafted into my bones. I'm carrying my mutation like Wolverine carried his. It's fused into the core of me. I've acquired such a high level of coping skills over my lifetime that no one really realizes that inside I am developing my own adamantium.

I need to learn to accept this new evolution of me. I need to realize that the refining process of who I am and who I am meant to be takes time.

I'm trying to be patient. With myself.

(Dr. Jean Grey and Wolverine: X2: X-Men United)
(image: Claudia Cardinale)

Love My New Shades

2011-05-23T09:15:00.001-07:00

I've worn the same style of sunglasses since I was 22. Black cat-eye. In another "out with the old" move towards my newly almost single status, I went and sought out a different style.
I look like a Real Housewife. Or a soon-to-be former one anyway. I finally (first time ever!) successfully took a picture of myself to send to my sister. I figured if she gasp-laughed at my sunglass restyling, then I would take them back to the store immediately. I'm keeping the glasses; she loved them.

I did nothing to make my lips look like that. Gotta love braces and genetics. One of my friends said that my photo says "I've got my she-it together and you can't touch it." I'll take that as the truth.

being me :: may

2011-05-22T10:11:00.000-07:00

I made it. It's May.

where am I? I am in my dining room (laptop town as my sister calls it). I just got back from church. I needed the message this morning. Seriously. I have been struggling lately trying to come to terms with the insane decisions that he has made. I have spent way too much time contemplating the caliber of woman that I am...that he gave up rights to. I cannot fathom that in the fork in the road he thought he faced that the family man route held no more appeal. I don't know what was so sparkly about the other choice. Actually, that's a lie. I do know what (whom) held his attention. But this is about me. And the message was about when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. As Lazarus emerged from the tomb, he was still shrouded in grave clothes. He was still covered in the remnants of his death.

what time is it? It's 10:01 am. It's time for me to stop holding on to the shroud (memories, emotions, disappointment, love for him) I wore as my marriage died. Yes, it can be very comfortable to sit in the tomb and not walk upright into my future. But there is no more time for that. I have been called out of my tomb and into the light of day. I might be blinded and disoriented initially, but I am not going to stop and give any pause to my tomb anymore.

who am I? I am new. I am loosing myself from that cover of sadness that I took with me into the tomb. I am emerging slowly, a little weathered from the journey but in no way weaker.

Project Tame My Backyard: Otherwise Known as Project WtHiUwAtW?!?

2011-05-19T06:30:00.001-07:00

Part Two...wherein I get injured for the first time
Ava and I started off our day of taming the wild by clearing the small walking path/side yard on the west side of the house. Sister-Cousin was driving in reinforcements -- two unsuspecting twelve year old girls that happened to spend the night before with her daughter. I can only imagine the number of times "what the fu@k" was muttered after Sister-Cousin launched into "we're going to help my cousin clean up the weeds in her backyard!" Twelve year olds are not easily impressed, but I'm pretty sure that the height of the weeds and the mountains of dog excrement sent them into some serious exclamations of "duuuuude!"
Sister-Cousin (Ang) arrived just as Ava and I had cleared the left side of the path and had piled the weeds down the middle of the walk. Ang had geared her team in dollar store gardening gloves, and their first introduction to the cousin with the overgrown backyard was me shoving a black lawn bag in their direction with a slightly sweaty-out-of-breath command of "one holds and the other bags." Same order my dad gave my sister and I back in the '80s. To this day, I still hate holding the bag. The holder always gets blamed if the bag gets punctured or collapses in on itself or somehow gets too full. And for some reason, the holder inevitably ends up getting slapped in the face accidentally by that one branch that has flung itself out of its bent position.

I tried to avoid injury by delegating all bag holding to the twelve year olds. My efforts proved successful until I attempted to pull up a ginormous weed. I was cursing and pulling and muttering epithets that should not be heard by twelve year olds when all of a sudden the force of my amazingness disengaged that tree-sized root from satan's Underworld grasp and sent me reeling backwards elbow first into the side of the disabled lawn mower. I'm a clutz by nature. But man that reverse flight slammed me so hard that it bruised my elbow and the area right above it instantly. I looked over at Ang and our miraculously clean side yard and declared, "Time for a break!"

To be continued...

Project Tame My Backyard: Otherwise Known as Project What the Heck is Up with All the Weeds?!?

2011-05-14T10:51:00.001-07:00

Part One
Last Saturday (Mother's Day weekend), I had my able-bodied kid and the brilliant idea to de-weed/de-louse my overgrown backyard. My sister-cousin jokingly started referring to my let-nature-do-what-nature-do attempts at landscaping as "the garden". I recruited her, her daughter, and her sarcasm to help me un-garden my infusion of nature.

The all-important before1. there were lots of weeds
2. the weeds were tall
3. some weeds were reverse-rapunzelling up the side of the house
4. there was a broken bucket near the pool filter
5. I've never owned that bucket
6. clearly someone is missing a broken bucket in the neighborhood
7. there was a lot of dog doo
8. a lot
9. it's an evil by-product of my doggie girls
10. I'm not squeamy about petrified dog poo
11. just saying

The holy-cow that's the same side? after

1. we filled seven full lawn bags of weeds
2. we worked for two and a half long hours
3. sister-cousin disrupted the habitats of three lizards
4. sister-cousin does not like lizards
5. or crickets
6. or the hugest grasshopper ever
7. seriously, I think it was a relic of the paleolithic period
8. I don't know what the paleolithic period means
9. or if it even exists/existed
10. just saying

And this was only one part of the clean-up effort. The rest of the story involves sister-cousin bouncing off of a ladder, a new use for the tip of a caulk tube, more dog doo, and a patio.

To be continued...

Proper Etiquette Practiced Here!

2011-05-09T10:25:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I had a meeting with my attorney. Since it was scheduled for the exact same time I was supposed to be on morning drop-off duty, I asked one of my co-workers if he would cover my duty for me. I even sweetened the request with a promise of gooey bars if he would just stand outside and make sure no kids got killed by crazy drivers (that's not the exact job description I was given, but it's the one I've adopted). Of course, he agreed (like any man would ever turn down homemade sweets!), and I made him some devil's fudge gooey bars.

On the following Monday, he brought my dish back to work. Empty. Who does this? I mean really. Was he raised in a barn? (I was afraid to ask!) So as to never have to be a witness to such an error in judgment again, I made sure that this etiquette-heathen understood that if you are given a dish filled with delicious baked treats (or any food for that matter) that you are required by the rules of proper manners and upbringing to return said dish clean and with something in it...a note...a gift card...hello, Krispy Kremes even.

When I went on Ava's field trip, I again had to miss my morning drop-off lookout post. I made the same offer to the same co-worker. Except this time, he counter-offered. He would cover the duty if I baked him the crust of the gooey bars. Just the crust. I think it's a bit impertinent of a person to modify another person's recipe - to their face - but I complied. Less ingredients for me to deal with, and ultimately, I got what I wanted.

My dish was finally returned to me this morning.
With these. I do so love proper etiquette!

But, alas, I must not imbibe...well, all at once anyway. See, I am a newly sorta-almost-there single woman. The end of the school year is just two weeks away. Which signals the start of summer. And, I am planning an amazing nine weeks hanging out and finding trouble with my sister and friends, vacationing and taste-testing martinis with my sister-cousin, and having an absolute blast with my kid. All while spending the majority of my time in a bikini. Yep. One the perks of the stress of marital demise is crazy weight loss and tons of energy. My long-seemingly-forgotten elliptical machine has been put through its paces, and my eating habits have followed suit.

Oh, I do so love a Krispy Kreme donut, though. And after reading some tips on how to freeze these little dudes and microwavingly revitalize them at a later date, I've realized that my summer just got even more awesome. Times six!

Cinco de Mayo + Comida Delicioso

2011-05-05T14:30:00.001-07:00

Feliz Cinco de Mayo! Ah, my rudimentary Spanish skills. How I have not become a fluent Spanish speaker after having lived in both California and Arizona is a wonder better addressed on another day. For now, I will celebrate Cinco de Mayo the way I always have -- with my limited Spanish and delicious food. Comida delicioso!

In the spirit of full disclosure, I totally just had to ask one of my students how to say food in Spanish. He told me right after he asked, "You think I know because I'm Mexican right?" I replied, "Well, I'm asking 'cause I'm white, okay!?!" Kids these days. So judgmental, man.

Anyway. Ava and I have plans tonight that involve a middle school dance in the cafetorium (cafeteria + auditorium). Otherwise, I would absolutely be making all or any combination of these:

Sour Cream Enchiladas Absolutely.

Cilantro Lime Rice For sure.
Corn & Black Bean Salad With tortilla chips, of course.
Mango Margarita Yes. Dos.

I'm thinking that I might have to celebrate Seis de Mayo, instead. Tonight, Ava and I will have to settle for take-out from Chipotle, and mama has a Mike's Mango Margarita waiting for her in the 'fridge. I can so make it work!

Things is Gonna be Changin' Around Here

2011-05-03T17:25:00.005-07:00

Sofia: [to Celie] Oh...Sofia home, now. Sofia home. Things is gonna be changin' around here. Pass me them peas, boy.

I've finally reached that point. That point when you raise your hand into a salute right about eye brow height and declare, "I have had it up to here. Things are about to change."

I will not ask myself one more time if there was something else I could have done. I will not ask myself one more time if I am really supposed to live this life I planned with him alone. I will not berate myself one more time for the things he says I did wrong. I will not wish not one more time for a chance to go back six months and be better, nicer, or thinner. I will not listen to that voice in my head that wants to keep asking "why?". I will not pretend that this is not the most broken I have ever felt.

I will not hate myself when I have really good days. I will not cry myself to sleep not one more time when I realize I've gone the whole day without missing him. I will not think that his opinion of me matters anymore. I will not think that he matters anymore.

I will not make any men in my future pay a penance for his inadequacies. I will not carry myself with any shame or guilt that my marriage did not succeed. I will not allow him to be my last chance at real love and marriage.

I will not speak his name out loud.

(Sofia: The Color Purple)

Are You There God? It's Me, Diana.

2011-05-01T18:05:00.002-07:00

On a Wednesday in early February, Andrea and I were at Kabuki enjoying a day off teaching and talking about our relationships with God. In all the years that I have known and adored Andrea, we had never had this conversation. I was raging against my circumstances and lamenting that I didn't feel like God was telling me what I needed to hear. Mainly, I just wanted to know that everything would be alright and that my marriage would be miraculously and divinely restored. Yeah, that didn't happen...or hasn't happened...or could never happen...I don't have that answer.Andrea told me that she believes that God uses whatever means necessary to speak to us and get His message across. I responded that God needed to get some technological savvy and just start texting me because this paying attention to every sign in all of God's creation was completely consuming my life. I needed a more modern way of listening to God. To be honest, I was afraid that I didn't really know if it was actually God speaking to me or if it was some new psychosis that I had developed as a result of my shattered heart. I figured that if God could just contact me directly, then maybe I could finally plan out what the he-ell I was supposed to do.

Four days later -- four days after I said that God should just text me, I was on Facebook reading one of my friend's post of a Rev Run tweet. There was something about the strength and validity of his words that made me want to follow him and add Rev Run to my favorites. As soon as I clicked the follow button, I swear to you, God did exactly what I asked Him to do. God started texting me. I can have a moment (or an hour or an afternoon) of complete "who's on first?" and here comes @RevRunWisdom in my Twitter text feed with the exact right words at the exact right time. I'm okay with how crazy this sounds. If you would have told me six months ago that I was going to be the one to file for divorce on April 1st, I would have certainly questioned your sanity and wondered aloud if you needed to up your meds dosage. I'm perfectly comfortable with saying that I get texts from God.

Two weeks after I filed for divorce, Ava and I were driving home from school, listening to the radio, and talking about her upcoming weekend with her father. And this is when God really started to mess with me. Out of the blue, Ava reached over, turned off the radio, and said, "Mom, I know you prayed and asked God what you should do, and you feel like you're just supposed to wait. Maybe He didn't mean that you should wait for dad. Maybe you met dad so you could have me. Maybe God meant for you to wait for the real guy, the right guy, that is supposed to come into our lives and make us a family." Okay. Deep breath. A moment of silence. At this point on the drive home, I had hot tears rolling down my face. I wanted to tell her that I didn't want to meet someone new or real or right...that I already married that man. But I didn't. I didn't say anything for a few seconds.

I have no idea what compelled her to move from the topic of whether or not she should pack her laptop to extolling the Divine Plan for her and my life. All I know is that I was listening. God had my attention. My kid was talking to me like she knew something. Like she had the map for this crookedy journey. I looked over at this kid in the passenger seat, at this kid that is 12 going on 35, at this kid that I am so blessed to have ever known, and I said, "Where did that come from? Are you worried about me? Mommy's going to be fine. We're going to be just fine." Ava just smiled and said, "I know, Mom. We got this." And with that she went from 35 back to 12...I think she even tried to fist bump me as some sign of solidarity.

I am no closer today to understanding why any of this happened or what lesson I am supposed to learn or what path I fell off of/got pushed off of/detoured away from. But I do know this: it's going to be okay. Someday. As crazy as that sounds, I'm currently just waiting and listening. And keeping my phone next to me at all times.

Smart (err, not so): Otherwise Known as the Time I Should've Just Left the Binder Baby at Home

2011-04-27T14:55:00.007-07:00

I am in the middle of a logic unit with my math students. They did some number sequencing last week, and this week, I am using Sudoku for logic and problem solving. Easy lesson to teach and a modern relevant-ish take on number sense.

So my kids walk into class, I tell them to get the assignment off the side table, I check behavior, and I go to my desk. And I start clipping coupons. I look up every couple of minutes and say things like "boys, I need you to maintain" and "girls, don't be so loud" and I go back to clipping my coupons -- I am completely facing my kids the entire time.

I glance up again a few minutes later, and I realize that my principal is sitting in my classroom. I have no idea how long she's been there. So, I casually say, "Well, hi there, Ms. *****!" And I go back to clipping coupons. Hello, what else was I supposed to do?!?

You Are One Strong Woman!

2011-04-26T10:33:00.006-07:00

I'm not sure I know what strong means.
Is it my sassiness, my take-no-prisoners-get-up-every-morning-and-face-the-day attitude?
Or is it just that I am moving forward towards something better, regardless?
This strength of mine is seemingly a curse at times.
Like in those moments when I want to crumple and cry about all the awfulness, some well-meaning friend will text "you are so strong and capable...an amazing example for your daughter."
And I feel like I can't just have that moment of weakness -- that moment where I rail against the unfairness of it all.
Because I am so strong.
I don't know any other way to be; I don't know how else to get through this.
Ultimately, there is an awareness that I can and will pick up the pieces of my life.
And that I have. And will continue to do so.
No matter what.
Somewhere along the way I forgot who I was and what I had already accomplished.
And I forgot that I was blessed beyond measure.
I take it back; my strength is a blessing and not a curse.
A privilege and a gift that I have been granted.

being me :: april

2011-04-23T07:29:00.005-07:00

I love my sister. She has high hopes for me. She constantly reminds me that I am loved and cherished and valued by so many people. And that one man's dismissal is just that -- only one man's. It's not a defining mark in my life...that failure does not go in my column. Her words have been constant and truthful: reconnect, reinvent, refocus. It's about me, now. Not who I once was, but who I really, already and always have been, am.

Her idea: on the same day each month, we touch down, check in, and write the answers to three seemingly simple questions. When she told me about this, I had a moment to wail "but I haven't finished our last blog project." She cut me off, "...so finish it!" (An aside: we interrupt each other all the time. Our conversations are this game of "oh, go ahead" or "oh sorry, what was that?") Then I launched into typical Diana with the questions and the analyzing of how each month would look and the planning and the no, we can't pick that date, that's the day...blah blah. And she cut me off, "the date isn't important to me, just pick one. Just write."

So here I am. It's April.

where am I? I'm here but not. I keep drifting back to yesterday. Not the metaphorical what could have been yesterday but the field trip with my Ava yesterday. I keep thinking about the complete lack of fear I had as I rock climbed my way to the top of a four story perch, sat on a wobbly ledge, and then zip-lined across a huge field. I just did it. And since it was the end of the day, the entire camp was there to watch me make my way up the wall (in Ugg boots - yeah, not the best footwear choice!) and cheer as I scooted off the ledge, let go of the rope, and just let the harness carry me across the field. I remember looking down and seeing Ava running under me...smiling and proud and yelling, "Go Mommy! That's my mom!"

what time is it? Right now, it's about time for me to wake up Ava and get us going and ready for our day. We have a breakfast date with my godson and his amazing mommy, Andrea.

who am I? I am the-day-after-a-field-trip mom. With a really gross bruise on her left arm from archery. And the slightly sunburned nose. And a really weird bondage looking mark on the inside of one thigh from the zip-line harness.

On My Desk...

2011-04-20T10:12:00.008-07:00

When Laura and I planned our six months of blog posts (with dates and topics totally outlined in the Type A way we do things), we did not foresee encountering any major life upheavals. In that 180-day span, Laura and I lost our baby sister to an overdose, and my marriage ended up evaporating the day after Christmas. Saying that it was hard to keep up with blogging would be a trifling too simple statement.

So, as it happens in my life, I'm in my classroom walking back from explaining the Fibonacci Sequence on the whiteboard when I noticed how I had left things on the corner of my desk.
I think I may have some 'splaining to do!

jalapeno pepper: grown in our campus garden (right outside my classroom); it's one of two whole tiny peppers of an immature crop. I plan to use it in a recipe for baked lemon pasta that Ava and I will have for dinner tonight.

purple slinky: I confiscated it from a girl yesterday who tried to convince me that it was just one long connected bracelet and that there was no rule against wearing a bracelet to school...clearly, I won that round!

newspaper: from last Wednesday (4/13) - article is titled "AZCentral.com's Best Food and Drink: Our Critics Pick the Best Restaurants, Markets & Menus for 2011"; I saved it for when my sister visits and for any future "dates" I may endeavor to go on.

starbucks: my sister and my signature drink...I buy one probably three times a week. I might need an intervention!

list: my tasks for the day...it will probably take a couple of days, but I like lofty goals.

Yes, this is the blog post I was supposed to have written and published on February 26th. I'm getting there; I just needed time.(saturdays with my sister)

Yes, I Am Thinking About a Salad.

2011-04-18T12:38:00.006-07:00

Ava and I were talking this morning about her weekend eating habits (sometimes atrocious!), when I immediately launched into a monologue about the salad I would make for us for dinner. Our conversation was four hours ago. I have yet to stop thinking about the salad. Yes, this happens often. I can end one meal (breakfast) with thoughts of the next. I’m good like that.

As I often find myself doing when my students are working on the math I’ve assigned, I created a list of the ingredients I have on hand. For the purpose of actually being able to re-create this salad in the future, I’m including it here so I know what the heck I had in mind.

Romaine Wedge Salad
one cup milk
one cup mayonnaise
one packet Ranch dressing mix

Combine and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. Sometimes I don’t plan ahead, so I just pop the dressing into the freezer for a while to thicken.

bacon, cooked and roughly chopped
one pear, diced
tomatoes, seeded and diced
red onion, diced
red bell pepper, diced
chicken breasts, cooked and diced
romaine lettuce, cut off stem and cut in half lengthwise
croutons

Place half of romaine lettuce wedge on plate. Arrange bacon, pear, tomatoes, red onion, red bell pepper, chicken breasts and croutons over the wedge. Pour the dressing over the salad. Add salt and pepper to taste.

I’m very serious about this salad and garlic bread!

(romaine wedge salad: flickr)

What's Up with My Life List?

2011-04-17T13:19:00.014-07:00

I have this interesting life list going on right now. Most people put things on their list that they hope to accomplish before they no longer have the ability. Well, my list seems to be creating and accomplishing itself with no direction or preparation on my part. It's like my life list has become self-aware (similar to the machines in Terminator) and is acting on its own accord.

Let me explain this in simple terms: there are things that have appeared on my list that I didn't and/or wouldn't put there, but they've been accomplished anyway.

file for divorce (I did this. It was never a goal of mine. I would never put this on my list.)
pay for and endure the most painful pedicure ever (I kid you not, the man ran his extraordinarily strong middle finger knuckles down the inside and outside of my leg separating the bone from the muscle rendering me incapable of kicking him in the face. As I cat-howl meowed, "oooooowwwwwuhh...", he said, "let me know if it hurts." The pain had caused me to lapse into such a stunned speechlessness that I could only tinkle-giggle as he went on to say, "relaxing, right?" Um, no!)
live in-between titles (I'm married. Until the ink is dry and the judge's gavel slams down, I'm married. But that word, "married," is all that is left of my marriage -- the last vestige of our connection has mere months of existence. And during that existence, I am choosing the moral high ground.)
go on a "date" with a friend (It's not: go on a date with a "friend". The placement of quotes makes all the difference. In fact, when the waitress described the French Pear Martini I ordered as "a sweet drink that makes you want to inhale one after the other because you can't taste the alcohol", I had to laugh and say, "um, I'll have to pick a different drink. It's not that kind of date!" For edification, see #3.)
eat a sliver of tofu after declaring it to be an apple (In my defense it looked like an apple. Yes, he told me that it was tofu. But I'd already consumed a Tropical Martini, and I was under the impression that I was in possession of all my facilities. I now know that martinis diminish my ability to recognize the difference between a fruit and bean curd. I plan to not do this again.)
order and push aside a crème brulée (We ordered two crème brulées: a classic creamy crème brulée and a citrus cheesecake crème brulée. The citrus cheesecake one was no bueno. I never thought I'd meet a crème brulée I didn't love. Again, my life list has a mind of its own.)
watch the NBA play-offs with K and Angie (Coupled with plenty of wine, Mike's Hard Lemonade, my Sweet Tea, spicy macaroni and cheese, and chocolate chip cookie dough brownies, basketball might have become my spring sport obsession. I'm actually loving my Saturday nights with my friends. It's a given, invariably one of us ends up snort laughing. Usually it's me.)

Until I gain control over this Skynet-driven life list of mine, I think I'll just hang on for the ride. If for nothing else, it certainly gives me something to talk about!

(japanese ahi rice bowl and citrus cheesecake crème brulée: source)

I'm Craving Vegetables

2011-04-15T09:11:00.002-07:00

It must be that spring is in the air or that the debacle in my life is much more settled and significantly less debacle-ish, but I just cannot buy or cook with enough vegetables. I made some homemade spaghetti sauce a few nights ago, and in my vegetable-loving haze, I added a bag of frozen mirepoix, and well, it's been quite the week of the vegetable ever since.

Um, yeah, I re-read that sentence. I'm not, ahem, personally experimenting with vegetables. I just needed to put that out there.

For the handful of readers (love you sister!) that are actually interested in what goes on in my kitchen, I will be making all of these in the coming weeks.

grilled salad with strawberry balsamic reduction
italian grilled cheese sandwich
vegetable lasagna

And because it's spring and lest I forget my first love of all things fruit, I must share this deliciously beautiful KitchenAid mixer in pear green. I admit it...I've already added it to my Amazon wish list. Again, love you sister!

By Order of the Management

2011-04-14T09:26:00.013-07:00

Every day, Ava says something to the effect of "when we get our new house..." To date, she has put in a request for her own office (not happening!), a new dog (we already have enough tumbleweeds of hair, thanks!), and no pool (I totally agree!).

My "when we get our new house..." thoughts are mostly design related. Like this gallery wall......with several of these postersSimple, cute frames + manners = super awesome!

(gallery: pinterest)
(management posters: etsy)

I [heart] Bernadine Harris

2011-04-13T10:38:00.004-07:00

I thought, for sure, I would be as mad as Bernadine (Waiting to Exhale, Angela Bassett).

I was. Sometimes I still am.

The phrase “I’m leaving you…” coupled with whatever inane reasoning provided is not easy to hear. I’ve found it’s even harder to hold back on being destructive. So far, I have. His property has escaped all harm. But that’s because I know I’d be the one to have to clean up the mess. And that...that would be asking way too much.

Rolling in the Deep

2011-03-27T15:54:00.007-07:00

I just love this song. It's simply beautiful.

"Rolling in the Deep" - Adele

There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark.
Finally, I can see you crystal clear,
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your shit bare.
See how I'll leave with every piece of you,
Don't underestimate the things that I will do.

There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark.
The scars of your love remind me of us,
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all.
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless,
I can't help feeling

We could have had it all,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
Rolling in the deep,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),
You had my heart inside of your hands,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
And you played it to the beat,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)

Baby, I have no story to be told,
But I've heard one on you and I'm gonna make your head burn,
Think of me in the depths of your despair,
Make a home down there as mine sure won't be shared.

The scars of your love remind me of us,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
I can't help feeling,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)

We could have had it all,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
Rolling in the deep,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),
You had my heart inside of your hands,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
And you played it to the beat,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)

Could have had it all,
Rolling in the deep,
You had my heart inside of your hands,
But you played it with a beating

Throw your soul through every open door,
Count your blessings to find what you look for.
Turn my sorrow into treasured gold,
You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you've sown.

(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
We could have had it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),
We could have had it all,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
It all, it all, it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),

We could have had it all,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
Rolling in the deep,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),
You had my heart inside of your hands,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
And you played it to the beat,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)

Could have had it all,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
Rolling in the deep,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),
You had my heart inside of your hands,

But you played it,
You played it,
You played it,
You played it to the beat.

Catching Up: Saturdays with my Sister

2011-03-02T11:43:00.000-07:00

My ability to [...] is one of my greatest skills.

I am a quick learner. When I am paying attention. Or if I think it has value. It's kind of a selfish skill, but I try to use it for the good of all mankind.

I would be happier if I never saw another [...] again.

Cricket. I very much hate crickets.

The last movie I saw at a theater:

the "Roommate" (I thought it was going to be a updated version of "Single White Female". It wasn't.) with Ava and Fred

[...] makes me mad.

When things don't work out the way I think they are going to. I'm beginning to realize that we humans have very little control of anything in life. It's difficult to surrender to that idea. Especially if you've thought you have been in control for the last 30+ years.

My favorite holiday is [...] because...

Valentine's Day. Pink + red is legal.

If I could choose a different name, it would be...

Delilah. It sounds southern. And smart.

(saturdays with my sister)

Catching Up: Saturdays with my Sister

2011-03-01T11:24:00.005-07:00

Four jobs I have had in my life:

I was a photographer in one of those old-time cowboy photo places in Ports O'Call -- a once thriving tourist area in San Pedro. I then worked as the office manager (slash) secretary (slash) do-what-has-to-be-done-since-I-was-the-only-employee-besides-the-owner person for a floor covering shop. When I got my bachelor's degree (and while working on my MBA), I was a market analyst for an oil drilling company. And then after I had my Ava, I started teaching. I really think I've only ever had these four jobs!

Four places I have lived:

San Pedro, various suburbs of Riverside, Rancho Palos Verdes, Corona, and now, a suburb outside of Phoenix. Yes. That's five not four.

Four websites I visit daily:

google (how did I ever live before I could google every little thing about life), aol (yes I still have an aol email account - stop laughing!), the pioneer woman, and ana white.

Four of my favorite foods:

my homemade tacos (Fred has always been the meat cooker, and I'm the shell fryer), cheese enchiladas, vanilla cupcakes, and bacon.

(saturdays with my sister)

Catching Up: Saturdays with my Sister

2011-02-28T11:00:00.000-07:00

Three books I would take with me on a deserted island:

the Bible (I'd have questions...like how the he-ell did I end up on this island, and why do I have all these books in my luggage?!?), the entire Harry Potter collection (yes, that's seven books altogether, but hello, the Bible has 66 books!), and Emily Post's Etiquette. Wait, I would also take Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are...it's really important information to have on the island!

My worst cooking disaster:

Back in the day, I was part of a through-the-mail-recipe-card-club. One of the recipes seemed innocuous enough - a simple seafood casserole-bake. I like seafood, and I like to bake. I don't, however, like recipes with mistakes. The ratio of horseradish to other ingredients was way off. In fact, had the recipe been titled "Horseradish with Hint of Seafood," I would have been warned. I made my sister take the first bite. Fred took the second. Those were the only two bites consumed.

Two everyday things I couldn't live without:

For practical reasons, I would have to say running water and electricity. If all my practical needs have been met, I would pick my iPhone and hand lotion.

Two snacks I could eat every day:

chips with freshly made salsa and wheat thins with cream cheese covered in raspberry chipotle sauce.

(saturdays with my sister)

I Wish I Knew this Before!

2011-01-25T09:15:00.003-07:00

I've been getting a lot of advice lately. And a lot of support. My cross is back on. I've stopped asking God "WTF?" daily. Now, I'm more like "really, God, did he really just say that?" I'm ready for a new topic. But this...this is some really good advice.

11 Rules That You Won’t Learn in School About Marriage.

Rule 1: Marriage isn’t about your happiness. It’s not about you getting all your needs met through another person. Practicing self-denial and self-sacrifice, patience, understanding, and forgiveness are the fundamentals of a great marriage. If you want to be the center of the universe, then there’s a much better chance of that happening if you stay single.

Rule 2: Getting married gives a man a chance to step up and finish growing up. The best preparation for marriage for a single man is to man up now and keep on becoming the man God created him to be.

Rule 3: It’s okay to have one rookie season, but it’s not okay to repeat your rookie season. You will make rookie mistakes in your first year of marriage; the key is that you don’t continue making those same mistakes in year five, year 10, or year 20 of your marriage.

Rule 4: It takes a real man to be satisfied with and love one woman for a lifetime. And it takes a real woman to be content with and respect one man for a lifetime.

Rule 5: Love isn’t a feeling. Love is commitment. It’s time to replace the “D word”—divorce—with the “C word”—commitment. Divorce may feel like a happy solution, but it results in long-term toxic baggage. You can’t begin a marriage without commitment. You can’t sustain one without it either. A marriage that goes the distance is really hard work. If you want something that is easy and has immediate gratification, then go shopping or play a video game.

Rule 6: Online relationships with old high school or college flames, emotional affairs, sexual affairs, and cohabiting are shallow and illegitimate substitutes for the real thing. Emotional and sexual fidelity in marriage is the real thing.

Rule 7: Women spell romance R-E-L-A-T-I-O-N-S-H-I-P. Men spell romance S-E-X. If you want to speak romance to your spouse, become a student of your spouse, enroll in a lifelong “Romantic Language School,” and become fluent in your spouse’s language.

Rule 8: During courtship, opposites attract. After marriage, opposites can repel each another. You married your spouse because he/she is different. Differences are God’s gift to you to create new capacities in your life. Different isn’t wrong, it’s just different.

Rule 9: ...Marriage is not for wimps. Accept no substitutes.

Rule 10: As a home is built, it will reflect the builder. Most couples fail to consult the Master Architect and His blueprints for building a home. Instead a man and woman marry with two sets of blueprints (his and hers). As they begin building, they discover that a home can’t be built from two very different sets of blueprints.

Rule 11: How you will be remembered has less to do with how much money you make or how much you accomplish and more with how you have loved and lived.

(list: source)

A Little Bit Stronger

2011-01-08T22:22:00.007-07:00

Ava told me that there was a song she heard that fit me. I'm not quite there yet. I hope to never have to be. I still have hope.

A Little Bit Stronger by Sara Evans
Woke up late today and I still feel the sting of the pain
But I brushed my teeth anyway
I got dressed through the mess and put a smile on my face
I got a little bit stronger

Riding in the car to work and I'm trying to ignore the hurt
So I turned on the radio, stupid song made me think of you
I listened to it for minute but I changed it
I'm getting a little bit stronger, just a little bit stronger

And I'm done hoping that we could work it out
I'm done with how it feels, spinning my wheels
Letting you drag my heart around
And, oh, I'm done thinking that you could ever change

I know my heart will never be the same
But I'm telling myself I'll be okay
Even on my weakest days
I get a little bit stronger

Doesn't happen overnight but you turn around
And a month's gone by and you realize you haven't cried
I'm not giving you a hour or a second or another minute longer
I'm busy getting stronger

And I'm done hoping that we can work it out
I'm done with how it feels, spinning my wheels
Letting you drag my heart around
And, oh, I'm done thinking, that you could ever change

I know my heart will never be the same
But I'm telling myself I'll be okay
Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger
I get a little bit stronger

Getting along without you, baby
I'm better off without you, baby
How does it feel without me, baby?
I'm getting stronger without you, baby

And I'm done hoping we could work it out
I'm done with how it feels, spinning my wheels
Letting you drag my heart around
And, oh, I'm done thinking that you could ever change

I know my heart will never be the same
But I'm telling myself I'll be okay
Even on my weakest days
I get a little bit stronger

I get a little bit stronger
Just a little bit stronger
A little bit, a little bit, a little bit stronger
I get a little bit stronger

Banana Bread. Perfection.

2010-11-21T15:33:00.005-07:00

Recipe:
3 extremely ripe bananas
1 1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Mix well.

2 large eggs
1 stick butter - melted
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
3/4 cup buttermilk
(to make buttermilk: add 1 tablespoon vinegar to 1 cup milk or add 1 3/4 tablespoons cream of tartar to 1 cup milk and let stand for 5-10 minutes)
1 cup nuts (optional)

Add to banana mixture. Mix well.

Bake in a loaf pan (55 minutes) or a bundt pan (70 minutes) on a cookie sheet in a 350 degree oven.

I Should be Famous for...

2010-11-13T11:31:00.006-07:00

...my random attempts at mastery. No matter what, I keep trying to create a sense of order in my world of controlled chaos.

I am very noise aware and sensitive, and yet I teach.I like things put back in their proper place, and yet I am both a wife and parent.I want to buy things that will last forever, and well, tires eventually need to be changed. Even if we are on the way to the airport. At 6pm in early August.
I love projects that are organization-ish, but I don't want to seem too OCD-ish. Even if it's probably a completely accurate diagnosis.(saturdays with my sister)

[...] Makes Me Laugh

2010-11-07T11:10:00.002-07:00

Life. Life makes me laugh. In all its absurdity and pseudo-seriousness.

And thankfully, I share my world with Ellen and Kellie Pickler.

Ellen + Kellie = Perfection!(saturdays with my sister)

What I Should Wear More Often...What I Should Give to Goodwill...

2010-10-30T21:09:00.001-07:00

I wear a typical preppy uniform of layered tops, capri pants/rolled jeans, flats, and subtle accessories. Long before "soccer mom" was both a term of endearment and a criticism, I adopted this style. It's me.
Never again will I wear Ugg boots with sweats. Unlike Reese (who clearly wore this en route to the gym), I wore an outfit horribly similar to this in public during the spring of 2009. It was quite the trying school year, and it showed. The boots have been dropped off at Goodwill. Thank you baby Jesus.
Moms look like this. Old Navy, Gap, and Target dress us. And we are super cute.

(saturdays with my sister)

(Reese: source unknown)

I Believe [...] Comes Easily to Me.

2010-10-24T21:33:00.006-07:00

I’m such a tardy blogger this weekend. I was the one that put this topic on our list, yet I struggled with what to write. Anyway.I believe striving to be better comes easily to me. I don’t mean that to come off as a competitive “keeping up with the Joneses” statement. It’s more about who I am and how I define myself.

You see, I am a motherless daughter. I had a mother and then I didn’t. Just like that. The explanation of how Laura and I went from living with our mother to living with our single-ready-to-mingle father would take longer than the actual event itself. I have no sense of entitlement for sympathy; it is what it is.

So I strive to be better than the mother I didn’t have when I was my daughter’s age. I have no examples from my childhood for the mother I am to my daughter. I never think to myself, “how did my mom handle this when I copped this attitude, or got my period, or wanted to know what a slang sexual joke meant?” There was no mom like me for me.

I can’t go back and change things; I probably wouldn’t even if I could. I just want so much more for Ava. I want her to remember that when she rolled her eyes at me what my quick and definitive reaction was. I want her to remember what it was like to grow up with a mom she could ask anything of and get the truth. And I want her to remember how I explained what was so ever-loving funny about those Shake Weight for Men commercials...after I tried unsuccessfully to pawn the question off on her father.(saturdays with my sister)

(Charlotte: weheartit)

An Expression I Use Way Too Often is...

2010-10-16T17:22:00.011-07:00

shut up: an exclamation of shock or surprise. Usually followed up with the phrase “not that shut up” as most sane people don’t say shut up when they are shocked or surprised.

wait, what?: another exclamation of incredulity; may also be used when a story drones on for too long, and I’ve just then realized that I missed the part to which I was supposed to respond.

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should!: an expression of warning or distaste. Sometimes used to point out to Ava another tween’s unfortunate clothing choice/teen pregnancy/sassy mouth. The perfect catty commentary of “my kid/husband/best friend would never do that”.

hangonhangonhangon: the repetition in gunshot blast form of the phrase "hang on"; used mainly in instances in which someone has asked for help at precisely the same moment I have just started to do something else. Or my phone rings after I have just given up on the idea that my husband is going to respond to my page and my hands are immersed in dish water. Happens almost every time.

Dude!: a texting phrase; can carry multiple connotations like no way or he’s stupid or you’re stupid or shut up (yes, that shut up) or you are never going to believe this. I’ve sometimes said this out loud, and I know the second it leaves my mouth that I sound like a middle aged Al Bundy-esque former surfer. I’m okay with that.

Have you lost your evah-lovin mind?: not a question. Always used the instant a kid crosses that very narrow line that divides entertaining me with your ridiculousness and irritating me with your immaturity. Must be said with crazy-mom eyes to be fully effective.

You’re awesome!: a declaration of thank you. I don’t know why I can’t just say thank you and leave the person I should be thanking with some impression that I have evolved somewhat since 1993. Also sometimes used when I have just entered that moment as a customer when I want to tell the person how to do their job because clearly they cannot, and I’ve said something meant to sound sarcastic but it wasn’t, and they finally did what they were supposed to do or what I wanted them to do; it is used in place of thank you in this instance because I reserve thank you for people that know how to do a simple job. Thanks.

Pop a squat: a phrase I incorrectly gleaned from Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” and my dad. I couldn’t understand half of what my dad was saying most of the time as he speaks with a really thick and most often alcohol-slowed southern accent. I heard my dad say pop; Julia says cop. It means sit down now, y’all.

seriously: may be used as a declaration, an exclamation, or a question; can also be spoken to indicate agreement when one is talking about one's clearly unbalanced relatives, spouse/boyfriend, or boss. A phrase of unity in the face of idiocy.

(saturdays with my sister)

(my favorite Reese expression meant to say que?: source unknown)

For Today: October 11, 2010

2010-10-11T11:17:00.008-07:00

A simple look (numero quatro)

Outside my window...summer has yet to give up the ghost (I love that phrase). 94 degrees just doesn’t seem Fall-ish to me.

I am thinking...that the longer I sit here the longer my to-do list becomes.

I am thankful for...Fall Break. I grew up without one. I taught in CA without one. I cannot believe I ever made it from the beginning of the school year all the way to Thanksgiving without a break. (People with year-round jobs just rolled their eyes. Um, yeah, you get paid way better than me. Let me enjoy my moment of bragging about time off.)

From the kitchen...Pillsbury Orange Sweet Rolls.

I am wearing...yellow crop sweats and a black top. And a copious amount of doggie hair from rolling on the floor with Ruby.

I am creating...a crazily ambitious to-do list. One that involves lumber and power tools. I scare myself with the thought of cutting off a limb or appendage. Laura almost cut off one of her fingers when she worked in the deli at a grocery store. I sliced my finger good with a rotary cutter once. I have to stop thinking about what could happen as I may die from heart palpitations before I even plug in the tool.

I am going...to need to get ready for my day any minute now. I must.

I am reading...No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog by Margaret Mason

I am hoping...that I get enough done this week that I don’t feel like my break is wasted but not so much that my break goes by too fast.

I am hearing...the narrator of one of the most depressing shows ever, "Meerkat Manor" (Ava added season two to Netflix). I hate everything about this show. I have never watched an entire episode. The narration alone kills me.

Around the house...are piles of things. Books that need to go to Goodwill or Bookmans. Halloween decorations that were abandoned mid-decorating. Two-by-fours for my project.

One of my favorite things...are monsters and aliens. Not the film so much, but the animated versions. Kohls carries a Monster line by Jumping Beans...I have to have the soap pump, the lotion pump, the toothbrush holder, the tissue box, and the cup holder. Except I would use them in my classroom. At my desk. For pencils and pens and lotion and tissue.

A few plans for the rest of the week...paint Ava’s bathroom, build some shelves for the laundry room, and take a trip to Jerome for a Ghost Walk Tour (I swear I am probably going to have some unfortunate spirit attach itself to me. I just have that kind of luck.).

A picture to share...paint idea for the laundry room.

I Help Out Around the House by...

2010-10-09T22:08:00.006-07:00

cooking, cleaning, organizing, coupon-clipping, grocery shopping, project building...all of it. Except taking out the trash and picking up dog doo, I pretty much handle it all.
Wash. Rinse. Fold. Repeat. The ultimate quicker picker upper. Sometimes new and improved. Basically, I’m really good at keeping my she-it together. Everyday. And I love it.
(saturdays with my sister)

(image: weheartit)

When I was a Teenager, I Thought That at My Age I’d Be...

2010-10-02T17:26:00.006-07:00

old.

I often wonder what my completely clueless sixteen year old self would think of me now.

What would she think of the length or color of my hair? Or that I don’t have bangs anymore (at sixteen, I’d had bangs my whole life; I’ve only not had bangs for the last year).

What would she think about me physically? For reals, the sixteen year old me probably wouldn’t get over the fact that I finally got boobs!

What would she think about the clothes I wear? Would she freak out because I no longer choose to match my shoes to my outfit? Would she search my closet for evidence of those “Dye-to-Match” shoes I once adored?

And beyond the obvious, ohmygoodness-you-have-a-husband-and-child-and-you-live-in-Arizona shock, would my sixteen year old self look at me and see herself? Or would she just see an adult who kinda looks like her – would she see old?

(saturdays with my sister)

My Current Occupation vs My Dream Job

2010-09-25T11:49:00.009-07:00

I teach math.
Pre-Algebra, specifically.
To seventh graders.
It’s my attempt to get God to overlook some of the unsavory details of my college years. That’s all I am going to admit to.
There will be no further details forthcoming, but I am really glad that there wasn’t as much technology available then as there is now. That’s all I’m saying.
I’m a teacher because I LOVE SCHOOL. And I like to be in charge.
But I don’t want to have to convince people that I’m in charge – most people assume that the teacher is capable and in charge.
Thankfully, I am both. Most of the time.
I spend the majority of my day totally immersed in my element.
I organize, I plan, I teach, I disinfect (germ eradication is muy importante), and I make kids laugh.
Sometimes at themselves but mostly at me.
It’s ‘cause I’m a dork. And I think I’m cooler than I probably really am.
I’m in charge of their grade so they let me think that I’m really really cool.
Some days I wish I did something bigger. I wish I carried that unspoken label of importance.
Or that people didn’t give me that “ohmygod – are you insane?” face right after I tell them what I do.
Most days, I just wish I didn’t have to repeat “I shouldn’t hear any talking” for the eleventy billionth time.
Then a kid will write me a note and origami fold it and when I finally figure out how to open it without ripping off the crane’s head, it says, “Dear Mrs. Teacher: When I get older, I want to be as good at math as you are. And don’t worry about accidentally smacking me in the face with the ruler, I know you were aiming for Mikey. But you throw like a girl. See you tomorrow. Your favorite student, Juan”
I was aiming for Mikey but Juan turned his head just as I had used my mad-crazy Matrix throwing skills to get Mikey the ruler he had just asked to borrow. Juan’s right ear and cheek were Matrix’d by the ruler I was tossing in Mikey’s direction.
He’s right, though: I do throw like a girl. And, the wooden ruler mark was not as visible the next day.
It's simple, but teaching really is my dream job.

(saturdays with my sister)

I'm Gettin' with the Program

2010-09-20T20:27:00.008-07:00

If there was a running score, a tally if you will, of my earnings versus spendings, Team Spending would always win. Unfortunately, I'm a veteran player on Team Earning, and Coach is benching me.

Time Out! I don’t know how much further I can go with this metaphor before I embarrass myself with my lack of sporting knowledge, so here it is: so far, in September, I have actually spent less...I have to write that again...less than what I’ve earned.

Sephora by OPI – purchased on eBay with free shipping! The light pink color was a gift with purchase...it wasn’t on my original four color list, but it's lovely.
Starbucks Grande Insulated Cold Cup – bought from a nice lady at work two days before my sister sent me a care package with two more insulated cups. I got three cups for the price of one. That’s some good math!
L’Oreal Skin Genesis – Not only do I love this line of skin care, but I purchased it on sale and with coupons!

Oh, but don’t think for a second that I am cured...I have big plans for the money I’ve kept in my pocket.

New Orleans Saints Top by Alyssa Milano
Lenox Simply Fine Dinnerware, Chirp Collection
Canopy Oven to Table Bowls

It’s a good thing I met with a financial planner last week. I’ve upped my retirement contribution so I can supposedly grow old gracefully...I know, I know. I barely recognize myself sometimes!

Inside, I Don’t Feel Very Different From When I Was...

2010-09-11T09:36:00.009-07:00

25? No, I definitely feel different from then. More like 35. Which was 3 years ago. But it was a very defining age for me.

I know a lot of my friends approached their thirties with a great sense of dread and a personal admonition of “my God, I am soooo old!” I didn’t.

I was in my second year of high school when I turned 30 – my second year of teaching high school. I taught high school for a total of four years, and I got to experience it all over again, but from a much more observant perspective. It was my “Never Been Kissed” moment (without the actual participation).

My first year of teaching, I was so like the incoming freshman class – I was awed by how smart everyone seemed and how little I knew by comparison. I was overwhelmed by my schedule, I was the new girl so I had to work at making friends, and I didn’t know half of what I thought I did. [Granted, when I got home from school, my husband and 3 year-old were waiting for me and not my dad, but the responsibilities were the same. I still had chores to do and homework (to grade).]

My second year of teaching was a lot less awkward, but I still had some maturing to do as a teacher. I was comfortable in the classroom, and it was less about what I taught and more about how I ran my class – it was about establishing who was in charge (just like sophomore year).

My third year was completely without a doubt for-the-love-of-all-things-truthful so hard – I took on three AP Language and Composition classes, and I am not afraid to admit that the classes kicked my behind! I had to struggle to keep up with all the knowledge that I was supposed to have all the while knowing that some of these kids were already smarter than me...and for some reason, I couldn’t set aside my pride and let them think they had one on me (yep, totally junior year).

And, then my fourth year of teaching dawned, and it was smooth. I still taught AP Lang and Comp, but I knew what to do, when to do it, and how to get things done. I wasn’t worried about not being smart enough; I learned to rely on the ones that were. I wasn’t hung up on what the kids or my colleagues thought of me; it didn’t change who I was or who I had become. I was popular because I was self-deprecating and sarcastic, but I was still unsure of what my future as a teacher held. My four years of teaching had burned me out...I had no more left to give, and part of me wanted the year to end just so I could get it over with. So I moved...just like my seniors (some of whom I had taught since they were ninth graders when we read To Kill a Mockingbird), I graduated from (teaching) high school.

By the time I was 35, I had been a middle school teacher for a couple of years. A middle school math teacher. I started to realize that I wasn’t overwhelmed by teaching, I was overwhelmed by the workload that a language arts teacher carries. The amount of grading and reading and pulling hair and cussing and what-the-hell-were-you-thinking comments on essays. I couldn’t do it anymore. And I found out that I was really good at math and that I was able to use everything I had learned as a language arts teacher and make math more vivid and relevant. In fact, Danica McKellar (Winnie Cooper from “The Wonder Years”) is my hero; her books about math are phenomenal.

But back to being 35. The day I turned 35, I immediately felt like an adult. Like there was some gravitational pull that qualified that my opinion now had substance and weight. I didn’t have to explain myself to anyone. I was 35. I was important and mature and in a different age check-off box on surveys, but whatev!

I don’t have the classic aches and pains or gray hairs of a person within viewing distance of 40. Yes, I am 38, and I have braces on my teeth, new glasses that I have to wear when I am on the computer or in lowlight, and an extended recovery time when I act in my normal klutzy manner. I still have so much to learn; most of these are the “duh!” lessons in life that I am not afraid to write about. I still work hard but I’m doing what I love. I’m surrounded by the people that I love.

And inside, I feel like I’m finally grown.

(saturdays with my sister)

I'm Spending Saturdays with My Sister

2010-09-10T18:02:00.006-07:00

Six months of Saturdays.

Like a weekend road trip crammed in the back seat of an avocado green wood trimmed station wagon but without the ensuing car sickness migraine.

I promise not to throw up an entire flat of strawberries mixed with Cheerios and milk (which happened once right before my birthday in 1976) as long as she promises to not throw up an entire breakfast of pancakes that our dad tinted a lovely shade of Christmas green (which happened once on her birthday in 1982).

We have lots of things to discuss.

At least twenty-six posts worth.

Starting tomorrow.

(carnival: weheartit)

Smart (err, not so): Otherwise Known as the Time I Didn't Know How to Save Money

2010-09-04T10:32:00.004-07:00

I tell you, you just cannot make up my kind of irrational. I'm a math teacher for goodness sake. I should know a thing or two about numbers and how to keep more of them in my wallet. In my own defense, I'm learning. And thankfully, my sister is available for some long-winded advice-laden texting:

Me: I just signed up for a coupon program called Coupon Sense. Ava and I went to a workshop afterschool. It's pretty cool, and they say they can save you 50-70% off your groceries. The workshop lady said that for her family of four (two in diapers), she only spends $400 a month in groceries!!!

Laura: Wow!

Me: Right?!? And that is w/$100 a month in meat because her husband likes the top quality meat. I asked if that included laundry detergent, paper products, etc. She said that she never spends more than $2 for laundry detergent. She may not be buying Tide, but she is buying name brands.

Laura: Wow...I spend like $600/month including cat food and household.

Me: Me too! And I never feel like I got everything...it's all about stocking up on cupboard items that you get cheap w/coupons and using real $ for perishables. I want to save $ so I can afford Starbucks and pedicures and hair-dids not just stressing about what I'm spending all the time. I even bought a personal finance book Make Money Not Excuses. I think I might be almost grown soon!

Laura: That is so my logic. I don't care if I look crazy buying 6 packs of tp...when it's on sale, it's a deal! I stock up big time. I always have "overstocks" so we never feel completely broke. I pull from overstocks to fill the depleted space and purchase when the overstock is low.

Me: See, I'm crazy because I have never stocked up on anything...ever! I buy tp about a roll before we run out, toothpaste when the tube is empty...I've never had a real disposable income so I've never learned to spend smart. I kinda spend as I need, and when I need is not when the item is on sale!

Laura: Exactly! I buy smart. If it's on sale, I never buy less than two...hand to God.

Me: I guess I needed more of a fiscal overhaul that I even knew. Well, I'm on my way to getting money smart. I was just talking to Fred, and he said the same thing, "we never even think to stock-up on things we know we're going to use eventually."

Laura: I have like 18 bars of soap and 5 toothpastes in the cupboard right now.

Diana: I have four bars of soap and two tubes of toothpaste (in use in the medicine cabinets), and I am about four rolls away from needing tp!!!

Hopefully, my stocking up doesn't turn into an overachiever's version of hoarding.

How to Change My Polish

2010-08-30T19:18:00.005-07:00

Hi, my name is Diana, and I have a weird aversion to nail polish. It's probably the residual effect of wearing acrylic nails for five years. And even though I had the acrylics removed when I was 22, to this day, I cannot stand the way nail polish feels on my fingernails. I seriously have polish induced claustrophobia -- it's clearly an under-documented phalanges affliction. Without official substantiated data, I can only conclude that the sufferers number well into the dozens.

Oh, but these SEPHORA by O.P.I. nail colors compel me to rethink my current love of red and pink pedicures. These colors smack of a fashionability and a trendiness that I must achieve.Yes, I must buy these four colors. And, I will still proudly ask for the "white flower" design on my pedicure that really is so 2003. I've found that it's better to accomplish one self-improvement at a time. I'm just not ready to give up my white flower, thanks.

For today: August 29, 2010

2010-08-29T19:12:00.011-07:00

A simple look #3

Outside my window...or in the space between the window and the wall, there is a cricket. I have Raid. The cricket has limited time left on this earth.

I am thinking...that I really love weekends in which my big plans vary between laundry and cooking.

I am thankful for...bacon. Of the four meals I have cooked since Friday, bacon has made a guest appearance three times.

From the kitchen...spicy macaroni and cheese with, hello, bacon! [I modified the recipe by cooking the vegetables in the bacon grease and by adding a cup of half and half. Instead of just serving it straight from the pan, I cooked it casserole style for 20 minutes in a 350 degree oven.]

I am wearing...a vintage 80’s yellow top that has a red New Wave heart design on the front and black cropped pants.

I am creating...my to-do list for the next 2 ½ days of school. Wednesday is a half-day, and Thursday and Friday are teacher in-service days with no students. I love my district so much.

I am going...to Starbucks way less this week since I just spent nearly half my paycheck on new tires. I’m all about safety, but man, it’s expensive!

I am reading...way less than I should be. I have taken up a very bad habit of turning on the tv when I go to bed, and my stack of good books are growing dusty.

I am hoping...that I will finally put together a list of OPI nail polishes for my sister to buy. I don’t know where to buy them (except online), and I kinda love the idea that my sister can go and pick them out for me. [ohmygoodness, I just found out that OPI has an iPhone app...yes!]

I am hearing...the oven timer dinging which in turn has caused my poor traumatized-by-the-quite-frequent-sound-of-the-smoke-detector dog to bark because she cannot discern the difference between the “yum, dinner is ready” alert and the “damn, Diana burned the bacon again” alarm.

Around the house...sit baskets of laundry. I am not ready to give up hope that the towels will somehow fold themselves.

One of my favorite things...is perfectly shaped eyebrows. I am blessed with both genetically good brows and quite the collection of smashbox brow products.

A few plans for the rest of the week...teach my students how to multiply and divide integers, attend two days of math in-services with my lovely Andrea, and then a long three-day weekend.

A picture to share...
Yeah, there's a story behind this photo, and that's all I'm saying.

How to Order a Starbucks Drink and not Make a Fool of Myself

2010-08-09T21:21:00.024-07:00

With my sister’s coaching, I am no longer a Starbucks failure. I have now had a crash course in the vernacular of Starbucks-ese. After watching me struggle with a simple iced tea order (like I knew there were that many choices), she Rosetta Stoned the language for me – in order, it goes size, temperature, type of beverage, and extras. Easy.My favorito recipe is my sister’s daily brew of delicious:
a Venti iced black tea
with a splash of lemonade
and two Sweet&Lows

Starbucks, I’m not scared of you no more!

(tea image: flickr)

My Sister is My Very First Best Friend.

2010-07-28T18:21:00.012-07:00

She is the very first girl I ever fell in love with.
She is the very first girl whose mere presence in the world annoyed me.
She is the very first girl to ever hurt me.
She is all that is left of my very first family.
She'll be here tomorrow.

I Haven't Been 29, Yet.

2010-07-20T19:45:00.008-07:00

Yesterday, I posted my birthday plans on my Facebook wall, and one of my friends commented, “seriously, how often does a girl turn 29?” Well, honestly, I’ve never been 29.Back in the day, when someone spoke of The Year 2000 (as it was almost reverentially called), I knew two things: 1) I was going to be 28 in The Year 2000, and 2) I would own a flying vehicle. The Year 2000 (or Y2K as it came to be whispered in hushed tones of trepidation) dawned, and I turned 28. But it wasn’t the big revelation that I had imagined when I was in the fifth grade, and Mr. Warren asked us to draw a picture of The Year 2000. Sure, I had the boobs that filled out the sweater (Ava was still nursing) like the two big U shaped ones I had drawn back in 1982, but that’s it. The Year 2000 kinda failed to live up to my expectations.

The year 2001 (see it doesn’t sound as good like that and it’s lowercase and not so duh-duh-duuuh) was my big “oooh, look at me living it up in my life” year. Ava was a real two-year old that could walk and talk and charm the cookie right out of your mouth if you let her, I made a big-girl decision to forever put my corporate career behind me, and I went back to school (even though I swore that after I got my MBA in 1997 that I would never go back to school ever again, shoot me if I even mention it as a joke!) to become a high school teacher. 2001 was more like my vision of The Year 2000: monumental things occurred.

I remember sitting in the living room talking to Fred about all the changes that were going on in our little family, and I sorta lamented the fact that I once spoke of being 28 as something so far off and so big. And here I was getting ready to leave 28 behind. So Fred told me that I should just be 28 again, and that someday when someone asked me how old I was when I became an amazing high school teacher, I could say, “I was 28!”. Totally typical of me, but I was 28 two years in a row.

The next year, I was 30. Just like I was supposed to be. I’m saving my 29th birthday. I think people approach their 29th birthday with a lot of “oh no, next year, I’ll be old!”. I haven’t yet felt like I was old...older, yes. But OLD? Not so much. I’ll be 29 the year I feel like I have no more changes to make. Which is probably never.

I Should Add "Frame Photographs" to My List.

2010-07-16T15:50:00.010-07:00

My to-do list just shrunk by another task (with a little Photoshop processing, my straight-out-of-the-camera photos are sparkling with gorgeousness). And I've uploaded them to be professionally printed. I'm not sure I even recognize my non-procrastinating self anymore.(Home 2005, Home 2006, San Francisco 2007)

For today: July 14, 2010

2010-07-14T09:31:00.013-07:00

A simple look (the second edition in the series).

Outside my window...it is hella hot! At the tone the time will be* 9:08am and 99 degrees!

I am thinking...about an item I just saw on HSN that would make an awesome family Christmas gift. Like I could hold out for the next five months!

I am thankful for...air conditioning and an open floor plan that allows me room to still paint my furniture projects.

From the kitchen...swiss chocolate gooey-bar birthday cake. Fred’s birthday cake leftovers. I need an intervention.

I am wearing...blue Capri sweats, a green vintage OP shirt, and yellow flip-flops.

I am creating...no stress for myself as I refuse to calculate how many days are left of my summer vacation.

I am going...to start prepping Ava’s room today so I can paint one of her walls Benjamin Moore “Tricycle Red”.

I am reading...a new blog my sister follows, Not So Humble Pie.

I am hoping...that Fred and I actually make it to my classroom today so I can bring home an ugly bookcase and make it fantastic with some Benjamin Moore “French Quarter Gold” paint.

I am hearing...Ruby’s dog tags clanking on the water bowl. Her fur is actually hot from the few seconds she just spent outside.

Around the house...are all the little piles that projects create – in the hallway, there are two bins that need to be sorted through that are left over from my office clean out; on the kitchen counter, there is a quart of clear-coat left over from painting my laundry rack; and taped to one of our kitchen cabinets, there is a recipe for quiche that I made on Sunday.

One of my favorite things...is how late my Ava sleeps in the summer. And I let her.

A few plans for the rest of the week...paint Ava’s wall and my classroom bookcase, narrow down paint for Ava’s bathroom, and some night-time floats in my almost-too-warm pool.

A picture to share...

*Did you know there is no Time Lady in Arizona? I dialed 853-1212 when we first moved here, and that’s when I knew that living in Arizona was going to take some adjusting, for sure.

M.S. Summer: Grill the Perfect Steak

2010-07-09T10:08:00.005-07:00

“Is a (side, slab, filet) of salmon considered steak?” I totally googled that entire phrase. And yes, salmon can be called steak – the only difference between the terms filet and steak is that salmon steak is somewhat bigger and can take more time to cook. Good to know.

I’m not a big cow steak eater – it’s not that I am against eating steak, at all. I just have a hard time eating steak with braces. It’s like corn on the cob…a good idea in theory but a whole lotta work. I know this task was supposed to involve grilling a steak, but I submit that I live in Arizona, the temp yesterday topped out at 109 degrees (and most of those degrees were still lingering at 6pm), and contact burns from the grill hood were not part of my agenda.
So, I baked my salmon steak, and all stayed right in the world. And delicious.

Baked Salmon Piccata
4 salmon steaks/filets (skin off)
¼ cup butter
Flour seasoned with salt and pepper

Dredge salmon in flour and sauté in butter in large ovenproof pan until browned on both sides. Bake salmon, covered, at 400 degrees for 15 minutes. Remove salmon from pan but keep the liquid as this will make the sauce.

At this exact moment, I decided the pan handle was sticking out off the stove too far. I grabbed the handle that had just been cooking in a 400 degree oven, and then I screamed obscenities that insulted the pan's mother. Seriously, it takes too much effort sometimes to be smart and completely competent.

3 tbsp finely chopped onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1 heaping tbsp drained capers
1/8 tsp dried Italian seasoning
½ cup white wine
2 tbsp freshly-squeezed lemon juice
2 tsp chicken broth (or any broth, really)
3 tbsp butter

In the same pan you baked the salmon, stir together the reserved baking liquid with the onion, garlic, capers and Italian seasoning; simmer for 5 minutes. Add the wine, lemon juice, and chicken broth, and stir until combined. Remove the pan from heat and whisk in the butter. Pour the sauce over the salmon, and yell out that dinner’s ready!

I didn’t have to say much after I served this with Chipotle-style rice. Fred’s only complaint was that there wasn’t any leftover…then again, that’s more of a compliment than a complaint in my book.

The Swagger Wagon

2010-07-08T10:08:00.005-07:00

I'm not kidding; you need to stop what you are doing and watch this! I saw it on Laura's blog (a different Laura) this morning, and I'm serious, I have watched it a dozen times. Totally clever.

The Swagger Wagon
[Intro: Mom and Dad]
Yeah This one goes out to all you minivan families out there.
Sienna SE…in the house.
Where my mother/fathers at?
Where my kids at?
Where my kids at?
Where my kids at?
Where my kids at?
Where my kids at?
Where my kids at?
No, seriously honey where are the kids?
They’re right there, see?
Oh, cool beans.

[Verse Dad]
I roll hard through the streets and the cul-de-sacs,
Proud parent of an honor roll student, Jack.
I got a swing in the front, a tree house in the back,
My #1 Dad mug says, Yeah, Im the Mack.

[Verse Mom]
I’m the world’s best nurse when my kids get sick,
I make a mean gel-mold, I perfected my tricks,
Back when I used to party as a college chick.
Now I’m cruising to their playdates lookin’ all slick…

[Chorus]
In my Swagger Wagon,
Yeah, the Swagger Wagon,
It’s the Swagger Wagon,
I got the pride in my ride.
In my Swagger Wagon,
Yeah, the Swagger Wagon,
It’s the Swagger Wagon.

[Verse Dad]
Check it… I love hangin’ with my daughter sippin’ tea, keep my pinky up,
All the drawings on my fridge sport an A+.
I’m an awesome parent, (Right!) and it’s apparent, (True!)
And in this house there’s no mother/father swearin’.

[Verse Mom]
Straight owning bake sales with my cupcake skills,
I’m better with the money, so I handle the bills,
And I always buy in bulk, ain’t afraid of no spills.
Every Mother’s Day proves…I’m kind of a big deal.

(Daughter: Mommy, I need to go potty.)

Bring the beat back, ’cause, yo, I got more to say,
You know I’m always front and center at the school play.
I kiss their boo-boos, clean doggie doo-doos,
Cut the crust off of PB&Js, chill the Yoo-hoos.

[Verse Dad]
Singin’ “Farmer in the Dell” in perfect harmony,
When I’m rollin’ with my posse in the HOV.
We rock the SE, not an SUV,
And it’s true, if I were you, I’d be jealous of me…

[Chorus]

A Tiffany Blue-esque Laundry Rack

2010-07-07T17:53:00.011-07:00

After so much time spent on Martha's tasks, I finally completed a project on my own to-do list. Ahem, a project that I put on the list in early March.

Years ago, my cousin, Angie, somehow acquired a couple paper racks from a scrapbooking store that was remodeling/going out of business/moving to somewhere. She gave one to me, and I had great visions of painting it shabby white and using it outside as a place to hang dry our pool towels. I brought it home, pushed it up against a wall in my laundry room, and there it sat for, I think, the last three years. It minded its own business, and I went about mine.
Transforming this laminated wood rack involved a coat of Kilz primer, two coats of Valspar "Woodlawn Charm" aqua paint, and a once-over with my sander. I didn't follow any of the proper dry-time rules, at all. I'm a rebel. An impatient rebel, really. I'm still not sure why I put this project off for so long as it took me all of an afternoon to accomplish.

Finally, I have a place to hang our bazillion wet swimsuits...my tub was beginning to look like I was hoarding bikinis!

I [heart] the Fourth of July

2010-07-04T12:32:00.007-07:00

I really do love the Fourth of July as this holiday has always meant that my birthday was fast approaching. Not the most gracious reason to love a holiday, but Independence Day has ushered in my birthday season for a long time. Fourth of July and my birthday are like peas and carrots.
As a kid, July was my month. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that my father shared his month with me. As my husband now does.
So, happy birthday to you, the United States, to my Hilary's Jammy, to Rylan, and to my mother-in-law, Marlene. Tomorrow, the month of July is all mine and the countdown to my birthday begins (thankfully, my husband and dad are still willing to share!).

M.S. Summer: Dealing with Pests

2010-07-02T13:34:00.003-07:00

There are only a few things that I just cannot abide.
I’m sure those of you that really know me are thinking, “A few? Liar!”
I’m not, though.
I cannot abide bugs.
Specifically bugs that think that they are entitled to enjoy my amenities.
Like air conditioning, indoor toilets, and any outdoor space clearly defined as being part of my property line.
It’s a constant battle of the crickets, the spiders, and the evilest of them all: the wasp.
Not this kind of W.A.S.P.
This kind.
I know how to kill wasps.
Specifically how to drown them.
It’s scientific.
Which makes me feel smart to say.
Pour ¼ cup dish soap in a garden sprayer filled with water.
When a wasp lands in your pool, spray the wasp with the soap infused water.
The wasp thinks it can float.
On water, it can.
On water in which the surface tension (see? sounds smart) has been changed because of the addition of dish soap, it can’t.
Wasp drowns.
I cheer.
Ava thinks I’m the hero of the pool.
Fred does a cannon ball to catapult now dead wasp out of pool.
I spray Fred with dish soap as I have told him ten billion hundred times that I cannot abide being splashed in the pool.
I go back to my wasp surveillance.
No wasp returns as they now know I am armed and dangerous.

(w.a.s.p.: Gossip Girl; wasp: image)

M.S. Summer: Make a Crowd-Pleasing Dessert

2010-06-29T12:43:00.004-07:00

Yes, this recipe calls for boxed cake mix. It’s okay. I am giving you permission to cut a corner or two or fifty every once in a while. Trust me on this one. I have been assured via a committee conference call that I will still retain my seriously super-cool mom membership card even though this is an obvious attempt to undermine all that is right in the world of preservative-free living.

Chocolatey Gooey Butter Bars
1 box chocolate cake mix (without pudding)
1 stick butter, melted
1 egg

Mix together until thick and smooth. Press into 9 x 13 inch buttered pan.

1 (8 oz) package cream cheese, softened
1 (16 oz) box powdered sugar
2 eggs

In the mixing bowl, start with the cream cheese alone; beat it in the mixer on medium speed for about one minute. Add in the powdered sugar and eggs until thoroughly mixed and pour on top of cake mixture.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes. Make sure you don't overbake the bars; you want the middle to be kinda jiggly. Refrigerate to cool and set. Optional: sprinkle top with powdered sugar when ready to serve.

I made these today and I think I'll make them again tomorrow and probably the day after that, too.

M.S. #17: How to Iron a Shirt

2010-06-28T17:06:00.009-07:00

I love ironing. As long as I am not in a hurry to get to school on time. Which makes it sound like I would really hate ironing. Funny. Even if I am running late, I have some crazy ninja-ironing skills.
Anyway. I have been ironing ever since my dad realized that he had two capable girls living with him – for free. Shoot, my dad liked that we were free – after a few (yes, a few!) ex-wives, he started to recognize that free had its advantages. Namely an in-house ironing squad.

The first time my dad convinced me to iron, he offered me $1.00 per shirt and pair of pants. I was ex-ci-ted because my dad had a closet full of clothes, and I was going to be rich by the time I was finished. I had ironed my way through at least $50 worth of pants, and man, that money was fun to spend…in my head. Upon my father’s close inspection, he started to notice that his previously sharply creased pants now had parallel albeit equidistant creases running down the fronts and the backs were ironed flat. Look, I kept running into problems when I tried to line up the creases just so and then the crease would shift and I’d have to start over. Man, I was burning daylight and my thumb. So, I improvised by ironing the back of his trousers perfectly flat (which smoothed out the front crease – score!) and then ironing a “new” crease into the front. This did not meet with my father’s exacting standards.

I was relegated to ironing the shirts. Only the shirts, thanks. I knew I could earn back my previous almost-in-my-hands $50 as long as I ironed with the crease and not against it. Go with the crease. It was at that moment that I noticed a neglected bottle of Niagara Spray Starch on the shelf above the washing machine (which sat right next to the dryer behind bi-fold louvered doors in a pocket in the kitchen. Beach living ‘80s style.). I read the directions and sprayed and ironed for a good portion of 15 minutes and at least 30 shirts. I was racking up the money, for serious. Again, my dad came in to check that I hadn’t mishandled the shirt sleeve crease. And, well, how was I supposed to know that you can iron wrinkles into clothing and seal them semi-permanently in place by spraying the shirt wet with starch and then ironing/steaming (burning) the fabric into submission. It seemed like a good idea, but my cash-wielding father did not think so. Rude.

Years passed, and my ability to iron went through many incarnations. I became quite adept at ironing my clothes directly on the carpet when I was in college. I had somehow acquired an iron but no ironing board. I try not to think too hard on that one. Ironing on the carpet was no big deal to me. It was to my husband, though. He got all perturbed one evening when I tried to explain away the iron sized burn in the carpet. Who knew that an iron could haphazardly fall over and continue to burn as it cooled? I was busy getting dressed in my warm, freshly ironed clothes (and probably running late to get Ava to pre-school and myself to work) to think to check on the iron I had set down on the floor just like I had done every single day for the last few years. Sheesh.

My sister took pity on my husband (I really should question her allegiance, but I fear the truth.) and bought me my own ironing board from Target that night. She didn’t seem as flustered by the burn mark as my husband had hoped. Then again, she did try to distract him from the look of the charred carpet by pointing out that the carpet pile looked weird anyway, and wait was the carpet cut, and hey Ava, did you use scissors on mommy and daddy’s carpet? I barely had time to cover her mouth with my hand as I attempted to spring up from my crouched position. She had just busted me. It wasn’t the first time I had burned the carpet with the iron. It was just the first time I got caught.

(image of Liv Tyler: weheartit)