A Post From My Inner Weakness

I know that lately I've been all, la la la, my kids aren't eating any sugar for a year and stuff.  But truth be told, Tootsie never really grasped the idea to begin with so she was kicked out of the contest early on, and Spanky was caught cheating about ten thousand too many times so he's out too.  At this point, there remains only one in the game.  He is awesome and stoic and quite frankly, the only one of my children I can trust anyway.  So I will support him and cheer him on.  But I have fallen.  OH DEAR GRACIOUS I have fallen.  I don't know what has gotten in to me but I've been making the most evil of desserts lately.  And consuming them.  In front of my son who isn't eating any sugar for a year.  Beause my heart is only slightly larger than a raisin.

Exhibit A: Vanilla Cake with Strawberry Cream Frosting

This is the most amazing cake recipe I've ever tried.  And I don't mess around when it comes to cake...

Cake

3 cups cake flour

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

3 cups sugar

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

7 large eggs

2 Tablespoons vanilla extract

1 cup sour cream

6 Tablespoons plus 1/3 cup seedless strawberry jam

2 1/4 lbs strawberries, hulled, sliced (about 6 cups), divided

Strawberry Frosting

6 Tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 8 ounce package cream cheese, at room temperature

5 1/2 cups confectioners sugar

3/4 cup fresh or frozen strawberries, pureed in food processor

2-3 teaspoons lime juice

To make the cake:

1) Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Butter and flour two 9-inch cake pans with 2-inch high sides. (I used 10″ cheesecake pans – aka springform pans – ) In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition. Beat in vanilla. Add sour cream, and beat for 30 seconds. Add flour mixture in three additions, beating to blend after each addition. Divide batter into prepared pans.  Bake cake 52-60 minutes (mine was done after about 53 minutes).

2) Now make the frosting:

With an electric mixer on medium speed, cream together the butter, cream cheese, and sugar until smooth.  Add the strawberries.  Mix well.  Add lime juice a bit at a time until you reach desired consistency.  Store in the refrigerator until it’s time to frost the cake.

  3) Remove cake from oven and cool for 10 minutes. Run a sharp knife around the edges of the pans, then turn cakes out onto a rack to cool completely. I threw the two cake layers in the freezer for about an hour to make the cake assembly easier, but you don't necessarily need to do that.

 4) Using a serrated knife, divide each layer in half horizontally. Place one half, cake side down, on a cake plate.

      5) Spread a thin layer of strawberry jam over the cake, then spread a thicker layer of the frosting over the jam. Arrange 3/4 c of the sliced strawberries on top of the frosting in a single layer. Repeat two more times with cake layer, jam, frosting, and strawberries.

            6) Top with remaining cake layer, cut side down (I used a bottom piece so that the top would be super flat). Spread two cups of frosting over the top and sides of the cake in a thin layer, then frost with remaining frosting. This recipe makes a very big 4-layer cake that will feed a lot of people. It says it serves 12 people but I would say more like 16-18 at least.  It was HUGE!

Moves Like Spanky

My kids aren't typically the "significant accomplishment" types.  I mean, you know, I love them.  But really they're just average kids who happen to have lounged around inside my uterus for 9 months (give or take).  They don't very often do anything that I consider to be blog worthy (except for Peanut Baby who I have consistently featured for, oh, about 13 months now - lets face it, until they hit 2, you could easily blog about almost everything they do).  Every once in awhile though, the kid I'm about to list on ebay pulls off a miracle and makes me proud.  And his pint-sized six pack makes me want to buy myself a freaking ab-roller.

*Pardon the cheese ball music.  It's his FAVE right now.

I'm Bringin' Twinkies Back

How?  HOW has it been an entire year since I brought this kid home from the hospital???  My mom always tells me that the older you get the faster time goes.  I'm starting to believe her.  I think I spent the first six months of Tessa's life in complete and utter disbelief that we somehow made it out of the whole birth ordeal unscathed.  After that, I felt like I just couldn't catch my breath.  Time was going by so fast.  She was sitting up and then she was crawling and then she was chewing up and swallowing little bits of garbage  waving bye-bye (which is also hi, I hate you, and come hither).  Now she's ONE, and has the the most serious case of snaggle-tooth I've ever seen.  But ohmigosh, she's my favorite. 

Oh, hai.  I needz braces.

This baby changed my life.  I think they all do to a certain degree but this one managed to punch me in the gut and remind me not to take life for granted.  Not to take motherhood for granted.  She has brought our family closer together.  And somehow, some way she has put the idea of possibly having one more in my head.  Damn her!  With any luck she'll turn in to a rotten fit-throwing toddler and knock some sense back into me.

Or I can just pull up this post-delivery picture of my feet that managed to gain 25 lbs. of water weight EACH in less than a week.  That should work too.  

Peanut Baby has been infatuated with the movie Despicable Me since last summer.  Infatuated to the point that a few months ago, we got in the habit of sitting her in front of it in the middle of the night so that we could sleep (ahhh, the beauty of being the 4th child).  So we thought it only appropriate to stick with that theme for her birthday.  

Who doesn't love a minion made out of a Twinkie?  A TWINKIE!!!  Who still eats twinkies?!?  Probably nobody considering I got a box of 50 for like $1.00.  You know what they say though, you only turn 1 once.

Happy Birthday Peanut Baby!  

  

Date Coupons

My kids have recently committed to not eat any sugar for a whole year (there's a pretty big chunk of change involved in the endeavor so don't feel too bad for them - besides, I have a feeling there's going to be some cheating going on - Spanky, I'm talking to you).  Usually for Valentine's Day I just give them a useless hunk of junk from the dollar store with a few treats thrown in.  Because kids are dumb and they don't know the difference.  But this year, with the whole "no sugar" thing (which they may or may not be adhering to) I've struggled with what exactly to give them.  For the most part I don't really believe in giving them full fledged gifts for anything except Christmas and their birthdays (truth be told, we've been known to "forget" to give them birthday presents before - oopsy).  And wasn't Christmas like, yesterday?  I'm sick of stuff.  I didn't want to give them just another thing to unwrap and not care about.  

Ryan and I have been talking a lot lately about how we want figure out a way to spend more one on one time with the kids.  They need it.  Especially the boys.  Sometimes it seems like days or even weeks will go by before I realize that I haven't spent any time with them individually.  It's all just a whirlwind of coming and going, and helping with homework and scouting, and driving them to lessons and hollering at them to get their jobs done, and then having the cops show up because they've been riding their mini motorcycle in the neighbor's driveway, when clearly the street is a much safer place to be.  I speak the truth.  Douche bag neighbor called the cops, because he is a stellar human being.  Anyway, I just mean to say that I know they need some time with us. Individually. Alone.  Away from the chaos that has become our lives.

SO!  We've decided that instead of giving them more stuff accompanied by sugary crap they're not supposed to be eating anyway (but probably still are), we'd give them something else.  Our time.  Which is something we should be giving them anyway but apparently we both failed parenting school and now we have to make our kids believe that having time with us is a rare and valuable gift not to be taken for granted.

We came up with 1 special activity per month that we thought they'd be excited about doing with one of us (Ryan and I alternate every month).  I made little coupons and printed them out on some thick card stock.  Then I put each date coupon in it's own envelope and labeled it with the month they'll get to open it.  I figured that they can open their envelopes on the first day of every month and we'll put their coupons on the "date chart" I made.  The coupons can't come down until they've actually gone on their date for the month.  Hopefully, having their coupons staring us down every day will help motivate us to follow through.  Also, I'm planning to take a few pictures on every date so that next year for Valentines Day we can give them some sort of memory book about the fun things we've done.  See how I so craftily drag this idea out so I don't have to think of something for next year?  I suck at parenting.

But I'm kind of excited to give these to the kids over a big Valentine's dinner tomorrow.    

These are just a few of their date coupons.  They're each getting 12.  It's going to be a long year.  

We debated whether or not to include activities that cost money because we wanted this to be more about spending time together, not necessarily spending money.  In the end though, we decided that having a few outings that cost money wouldn't make a difference.  We chose some things that we thought would be meaningful to each of them individually, and also some things that were kind of generic that we thought all of them would like. 

Oh, and just so you know, Peanut Baby isn't getting any coupons.  I gave her some boob coupons about a year ago (you guys, she's almost ONE) and she has cashed them ALL in.  

Be My "Valentime"

I've had this recipe for chocolate doughnuts in my back pocket since last February. Actually, since February 14th to be specific.  The day my pancreas and my uterus got into a bit of a feud which ultimately ended with my uterus getting it's ass kicked.  And then Peanut Baby was all, "Hi loosers.  I'm here."  Last year I was planning to spend Valentine's Day making chocolate doughnuts with my kids and then we were going to go "valentining" later that night.  By the way, is it just me or has valentining become a thing of the past?  My neighbors always seem so confused by the whole ordeal.  Anyway, things didn't pan out the way I had planned.  It was a bad day.  So we're going to try it again this year (if you're one of my neighbors, act surprised, okay?).  We gave these bad boys a test run today.  And aside from my complete inability to allow my children to freely distribute sprinkles as they wish (I'm a sprinkle nazi - are you surprised?), they turned out pretty darn cute.  If I wasn't just coming off a raw food cleansing diet I would most definitely have partaken.  The kids, however, have no problem hoovering mass quantities of sugar.  Not an issue there.  We're having wilted spinach soup tomorrow night for dinner to balance it out.  They're so excited.

Tootsie continues to call Valentine's Day, Valentime's Day.  It's cute.  I don't have it in me to correct her.

I don't know why I just told you that.  Twas lame.  

Baked Chocolate Doughnuts with Vanilla Glaze

3/4 cup flour

1/4 cup dutch-process cocoa

1/2 cup sugar

1 Tablespoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 egg + 1 egg yolk

1/2 cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

4 Tablespoons vegetable oil

1/4 teaspoon lemon juice

Pre-heat oven to 450 degrees and coat a doughnut pan liberally with cooking spray.  Stir together flour, cocoa powder, sugar, baking powder and salt in a large bowl.  Add the eggs, vanilla, milk, and lemon juice.  Stir together for about 1 minute.  Add the oil and continue to stir until just combined.  Transfer batter to disposable icing bag or ziploc bag with corner cut off. Fill each cavity in pan 2/3 of the way full.  Bake 7-9 minutes or until doughnuts spring back when lightly touched.  Cool completely before icing.

Or just throw them in this thing.  It's WAAAAAAY easier.

Vanilla Icing

1 cup confectioner's sugar

1 Tablespoon milk

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1/8 teaspoon salt

dash of lemon juice

Dip the top of each doughnut in the icing.  Decorate with sprinkles.

Balls Are Funny I Guess - and Birthday Parties Rock

Hello blog.  Hi.  Have you missed me?  What?  You don't remember who I am?  That's okay.  I don't really remember you either apparently because it took me THREE tries to type my password in correctly.  I'm getting stupider (stupider, stupider, more stupider, why do neither of those seem right?).  Anyway, you should know that nothing very exciting has gone on lately.  I mean, there was that time a few months back that Tootsie's friend whacked her in the head with his plastic sword which landed us in the ER where it took 4 full-sized adults to hold her down while so she could be stitched up by an extremely pregnant doctor who, judging from the scar on Tootsie's face, was also suffering from the stupids.  And, AND, there was that day a few weeks ago when Eliot (the younger shpanky brother) got miffed that his plastic football helmet was all bobbly on his head.  And because shrinking the helmet was obviously not an option, his only choice was to increase the circumference of his head.  By wearing seven beanies.  On his way out the door to school.  Oh, and there was that one day that Peanut Baby did this...

And now we have all turned into little marionettes that dance and shimmy according to her demands.  She has a hard life that one.


And then the Penn State fiasco.  Oh my, that just sucked away like two whole weeks of my life.  Two whole weeks where I did nothing but watch the news in complete and utter disbelief.  After which I sat my boys down and explained things that no parent ever wants to have to explain to their little boys but thank you Jerry Sandusky now we have no choice.


But then I would just roll a ball to Peanut Baby and all was suddenly right in the world again.  Ahh, baby giggles.  


So really, nothing very big to report.  Well, until today I guess.


Walk with me.  Talk with me.  Just for a minute.


One time in Junior High, My mom I thought it would be a rewarding experience to try out for the school play, The Wizard of Oz.  My audition went well.  I was pretty sure I would probably be cast as a munchkin, or an Oz person, or at least a tree or something.  Something or someone who made an actual appearance on the stage.  So you can imagine my surprise when I found out that I would be playing "Toto's bark".  No, I wasn't Toto (although that definitely would have been an upgrade).  I was his bark.  They actually wanted me to stay after school every day, month after month so I could sit off stage and make barking sounds on command.  I probably don't need to mention that I declined the offer.  But just in case...I declined the offer.  


I tell you this story to make the point that I suck at lots of things.  Actually, I suck at most things I attempt.  But there's one thing.  One thing I kind of kick some serious ass at.  Birthday parties. 


Today was Tootsie's birthday party.  Not her actual birthday.  Her actual birthday is on December 26th, and anyone born the day after Christmas is destined to be ignored on their birthdays for the rest of their life.  Which will inevitably lead to the crushing of their tender inside parts and drive them to seek counseling in their latter years.  So far, we've master the art of pretending our daughter's birthday doesn't exist and have started a savings account titled Tootsie's Therapy Fund.  It has worked out wonderfully until these past few months over which she has been invited to several birthday parties.  Parties.  To celebrate ones birthday.  Where people come and participate in games and activities and all sorts of splendidness.  Tootsie.  Discovered.  Birthday parties.  Which meant that I couldn't be all, tra la la no birthday here continue on your merry way, come the 25th. (what is it with birthday parties these days.  I feel like putting up a billboard that says, "dude, I get it, you were born.  As were the rest of us."). - (oh wow, that's just WAY too many punctuation marks right there).  At any rate, it was time to throw the girl a party.  And if you know me at all, you know that I don't throw parties.  Like, ever.  But on those extremely rare occasions that I have a lapse in judgement and recklessly abandon my party philosophy, I don't just throw a party.  I go balls to the wall, bat crap crazy, ocd for weeks before the actual date planning the most perfect of all perfect parties.  I can't tell you why I do it.  It just happens.  Which essentially is why I developed the whole "no throwing parties" rule for myself.  That and the fact that I don't like being served with divorce papers.  Poor Ryan.  Send him flowers.


A few weeks back Tootsie told me that she wanted to have a party where her friends could come and decorate their own cakes.  Nine 4 and 5 year olds?  Armed with cake and frosting?  In my house?  No.  Haeeeeell no.  I tried to persuade her to consider other birthday theme possibilities but it was not to be.  A cake decorating birthday party became her reason for eating and drinking and breathing in and out every day.  And so it began.  And because I'm me, that over-doer that I usually keep locked way deep down inside of myself somehow broke loose (notice how I use the word doer, not achiever - as I really have never actually achieved anything worth mentioning) (wait, I think I was nominated "most likely to become one of Santa's elves" in 7th grade) (or maybe it was "most likely to land the part of Toto's bark" - one can't be certain).  But you guys. This party.  Was so rad.  I have to show you how rad.  Because if you happen to have a little girl who happens to have a birthday and you happen to be scouring the internet for party ideas?  This is one you might want to consider.


We started off with a tea party.  Because hello?  Tea parties are awesome.  

Tootsie was rather enchanted with the whole ordeal.

We then moved to the kitchen table where the guests were each outfitted with their very own apron hand crafted by myself and the birthday girl.  Mostly by myself.  Well, until I grew tired of sewing and drove to the nearest Kid2Kid to purchase the final two.  Which incedently were only $4.00.  Would have been helpful to have known that before I spent an entire week MAKING aprons.  Spent rest of the evening sitting in corner sucking thumb and rocking back and forth.

But dang, they looked cute.

And here's where it gets fun.  Or scary.  Depending on how you look at freaks like me.  Okay scary. 

I found pastry boxes to put their finished products in and baker's twine to finish it off.  Oh, and notice the stickers that say, "thank you for coming, love Tootsie" (my favoritest part for sure).  They also got to keep their aprons (gun, head, trigger) and their spatulas (dollar tree - two for a buck - no brainer) (because they were cheap - not because I just put a gun to my head) (i've developed a parenthesis fetish) (are you annoyed yet).

And here's where you can feel free to tell me that I need counseling.  This is Tootsie's birthday cake.  And because I wasn't quite kookie enough, I made giant cupcakes to serve instead of cake.  Purely because I didn't want to cut into the cake.  I wish I were kidding.

Really though, sometimes crazy pays off.  Look at that kid.

I hate cheesy sentiment.  I don't usually do cheesy sentiment.  But today, I have to.  Sorry in advance.

I remember rubbing my hand over my enormous belly imagining what you would be like.  I pictured you as a precious, soft, sleepy, infant.  I pictured you as a wide-eyed, sweet, easy going toddler.  I pictured you as a passive, un-demanding little girl.  Because sugar and spice and everything nice, I had been told.  Or maybe because that's what I thought I wanted you to be.  

I never pictured you this way.

I never imagined you would be the strong willed, independent, stubborn to the bone child that you are.  And for a long time, I didn't understand you.  But that was my mistake.  I didn't want to have to re-mold myself to make room for your complex personality.  I thought you would just fall in line and march to the beat like everybody else.  I was so wrong.  I was so wrong to think that it was your duty to become my vision for you.  I was so wrong to have a vision of what I wanted you to be.  Because what you are is so much better.  You are a combination of sweet and tough that I have never seen before.  You have a strength to your spirit that Genghis Kahn would be envious of.  You are smart but not self-rightous. You can read people like a book, and you somehow make room for everyone in that tiny heart of yours.  I never see you judge.  Ever.    

Every day is an opportunity for me to watch you, and learn from you, and be thankful that I was chosen to be your mom.

Every night is seemingly the end of a chapter.  As I take your angelic face in my hands and kiss you on the head, I think to myself that I can't imagine my life without you, and that I can't wait to meet you new in the morning.

When I look at you, somehow I know that I've known you longer than just 5 years.  Maybe much longer.  But I also know that this life is yours to live.  It's yours to make with it what you will.  And believe me my girl, there is nothing tying you down.  

You are everything I wish I could be.

Happy 5th Birthday.

  

Blog Trumps Family

Get this.  Last week in church my dad took a moment to stand up and "thank" someone (we'll call her Miss Shniderman).  Apparently at that very moment, something happened to the nerves that connect his mouth to his brain and he said, "I'd really like to SPANK Miss Shniderman".  At first I was all, habbada whobadda wha???  But then I remembered this picture from our trip to Lake Powell in July and realized that the pieces totally fit.  

And then I realized that I hadn't yet taken the time to complete my annual Lake Powell post that often times provides a golden opportunity for me to embarrass the pants off the people in my family.  

My motto?  Opportunities shall not be squandered.  And so I will proceed with caution.  

HA!  You believed that last sentence?  

Suckaaaa!

 This was sort of just the theme this year.  You know.  Act like a total douche whenever possible.

Par for the course.

There was also however, copious amounts of cute.

COPIOUS.  AMOUNTS.

And of course more douchi-ness.

I don't know why we can't just use the water tramp like normal people.  And for the record, no small children were hurt in this attempt to land inside the overturned trampoline.  Just the ego of the guy who totally missed. 

I have no explanation for this one.

The little dudes managed to save their grandma from certain death atop the treacherous sandstone.  

See?  Am cute.  Iz fun to wear teeny weenie bikiniz.

Operation scrub pits was a nightly ritual.  I suspect that operation kill sister in law will be in full swing very soon.  Bwaaaahaaahaha!

My dad's dance moves are seemingly genetic.

My future grandchildren...I pity them.

The captain and the first mate.  I rather adore these two.

There are people in my family who aren't going to speak to me for a REALLY REALLY long time after they read this.  I sacrificed my level of like-ability to provide my internetz with an accurate depiction of our annual Powell extravaganza.  Because, Blog.

Peanut Baybee is growing old.  Every night when I put her to bed I get that panicky feeling that reminds me just how quickly she will change.  Already I can hardly remember that floppy little heap of sleep she used to be.  Now she weighs 12 pounds and even sort of has chubby thighs.  Let me say that again, CHUBBY THIGHS!  I pinch them and squish them and nibble on them occasionally.  And today?  She shocked the hell out of herself by rolling over for the first time.  I've never thought much of that milestone before but for some reason this time I was all, biggest smartest most genius baybee alive!  Even though she's 6 months and should have most definitely perfected that trick by now.  Whatevs.  She's brilliant.

Oh hai.  My mom thinks I haz big smartz.  

She stupid.