Death on a Platter

Several years ago, I was living with my favorite Kennifur ever.  I made this casserole, and he dubbed it, 'Death on a Platter.'  It's amazing and cheesy and creamy and absolutely delicious...and it's full of, well, death on a platter.  Of course, when I moved back to Montana, I named it thus, and it has been a Horinek-ism since then.

Eventually, I'll write all about Horinek-isms.  They're pretty hilarious, actually.

Once again, I don't use any real measurements in my cooking.

This casserole is incredibly versatile.  You can make it as a side dish with dinner (we love to have it with Prime Rib) or you can make it as a breakfast food.  You can add ham or hamburger, or you can just leave it plain.

Ingredients:

Shredded Hash browns

Sour Cream

Cream of Mushroom Soup

Shredded Cheddar Cheese

Crushed Potato Chips or Cornflakes

Mix together the hash browns, sour cream, cream of mushroom soup and shredded cheddar cheese.  You want it to be nice and creamy, but not overly so.  Tonight when I made my batch, I used three bags of hash browns, two large cans of cream of mushroom soup and one small can, a large container of sour cream, and three small bags of shredded cheese.  Of course, add salt and pepper and alpine touch to your hearts desire.

We like our casserole to be extra creamy, so take that into consideration.  Some people like it cheesier, some like to use Cream of chicken soup or cream of celery.  After you have everything well mixed, plop it all into a large pan.  I prefer using the disposable tinfoil pans.

Spread a nice, thick layer of chips over top of the casserole and press it down slightly.  Cover the pan in tinfoil and bake at 350 for an hour-ish.  You want to bake until it's bubbling over and heated all the way through.

This casserole also reheats really well.  It makes for some amazing leftovers.  It's also an awesome freezer dish.  If you want to make several of these at a time (I do) you can cover them tightly in tinfoil and freeze them.  Do not put the chips on the top, because they'll get soggy.  If you're feeling really adventurous, you can crush your chips and put them in a baggie along with the dish.

Very, very tasty meal!  This is one of my favorites.

Exciting projects

As a Mommy, I am signed up for many different daily e-mails about how to make your child's life amazing and how to make them a freakin' genius.  They are full of crafty ideas that are intended to stimulate the brain while proving what an amazing mother you are.

Most days, I'm lucky if I get a shower in, let alone a chance to eat.

However, this was the e-mail I got today.  Another time consuming project, but this is one I can totally get behind.

Mapping Friends

Target Age:

Early One-Year Old

Materials You Will Need:

map, photos, glue

What To Do:

Your child may enjoy seeing where family and friends live. Place a map of your country on the wall of your child's room. Take a photo of each person and adhere it on the map showing where each lives. Point to the photos regularly, telling your child the name and location of each person.

Variations:

Place a special sticker on each place and person you and your child visit in the future.

So!  I am totally going to do this one with Roland.  However, it will likely have to wait until we move, when we have a bit more space.  Until then, though, I'm going to start gathering up pictures.

To our friends and family and other loved ones: If you want to be involved in this project, send me a picture that you'd like me to use!  Especially if you are doing something fun and exciting and awesome.  I'll print them off over the summer, and come the fall, they'll all get posted on Mr. Roland's wall.  If you want your lovely mug on the wall, e-mail me at singeraprildawn @ gmail.com.

And now that I know that he will sit in his playpen and play quietly for like an hour at a time...maybe I'll be able to do more of these cool little projects!  AND shower.

The world will thank me.

The art of Kumihimo

As you all know by now, I've kind of gotten involved in the SCA.  And when I say I kind of gotten involved, I mean that I've kind of jumped into ALL THE THINGS.  I've been volunteering whenever and wherever I can, I've been learning as much as I can (although not nearly as much as I'd like.)  And I have been doing as many Arts and Science things as I can.

Seriously.  In the last six months, I've probably picked up eight new crafty things to play with.  This is totally awesome, because it means I always have something to do with my hands when I need busy work (of course, with my crappy ass joints, sometimes I can't really do much at all) and I enjoy having something pretty that I've made.

Recently, I picked up a kumihimo loom.  Well, two of them, actually.  A square one for making flat braids and a round one for the round braids.

I love it.

It's pretty and simple and elegant.  I haven't done much yet.  I used the rattail that came in the kit to make a little key ring and now I'm making a really lovely 16-strand braid that can be used for...something.  Maybe a purse handle.  I dunno yet.

Kumihimo is a Japanese form of braid making.  Wiki has a little bit to say about it.  It's simple and it really makes some beautiful braids.

It really is a lot easier than I anticipated.  Basically, with this kit, you just move the strings from one side of the loom to the other.  I bought this kit from Amazon, and I'm really pleased with it.  It comes with the loom, a little booklet, eight bobbins, and some rattail to play with.  For $12.00, it's a pretty awesome deal, at least if you want to give it a try.

Eventually, I plan on making myself one of these.

Obviously, this loom is a little more complicated.  You have to use weighted bobbins on your thread, as well as a weight on your braid to keep everything nice and even.  I think I could pretty easily make one, and it would make for an awesome conversation piece at events!

Of course, the one I currently have makes for nice and easy travel fun.  :)

Anyway.  Definitely something that is worth looking into, if you enjoy different textiles and you are looking for a new crafty thing.

I got this

Tonight, I sat down and waded through my school stuff.  Yes, this is the kind of thing that an adviser should help me with, but really, I'd rather do it on my own.

As of right now, provided my History class transfers from UMUC...I have 13 classes (plus secondary licensure classes) before I graduate with my English Teaching degree.  That means that I could absolutely be finished with my degree in two years.

This idea is slightly terrifying, to be entirely honest.

I didn't do well my first time in college.  I didn't have a major, and I was too busy socializing to go to class.  I had a hard time focusing, because I didn't feel like I had any purpose.  After a year, I was on academic suspension.  Years later, when I got my shit together and I wanted to go back to school, I couldn't.  I had student loans in default that had to be dealt with, and then I had to jump through the hoops to be readmitted.

I started back in the fall of 2010, after 8 years away.  I left UofM at that point with a 2.13 GPA.

Now, after several years of taking part-time classes (and a year away) I have a 3.18.  I've had A's and B's in every class...mostly A's, aside from Math and Biology.  I have rocked school hardcore.  This time, I have a purpose and I have a goal in mind.

It's still a little terrifying.

In a few years, I could actually be entering the work force as a "real" adult, with a legitimate degree and everything.  I feel called to teaching, and I think I would do well with it.

If I decide to double major in Teaching and Creative Writing, I have three years left.  At this point, this will likely be what I do.  Even though it means taking two years of a foreign language, it would probably be good for me.

So that is where I stand right now.  I can't wait to get back to classes in the fall.  I have two more classes to take to satisfy my general education requirements, and then it's the race to the finish line.  This will mean a lot of literature classes and a lot of writing classes.  I think I can handle this.

No.  Strike that.  I know that I can handle this.

Moments in Time

Several years ago, a dear friend of mine got pregnant. She didn't know it until she was several months along. For some reason, after she got pregnant, I started to have this weird obsession. I would do all this research online about different horrible things that could happen during pregnancy. What the statistics were.


At any given point, I knew what the probability of the baby surviving if it was born early was.


I don't know why I did it. In my mind, I was worried that something horrible would happen, and I wanted to be prepared. I wanted to know how to support my friends if the worst happened.


It didn't, of course. She had this absolutely gorgeous this girl who has turned into an amazing child. I was in the delivery room when she was born, and it was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever witnessed. Throughout her entire labor I had this, 'Holy hell, I never want to have kids...' thing going on. As soon as she was born, it went to, '...Wow. I want a baby. Like, right now. Heeeey, that doctor is cute...'


When I got pregnant, I was terrified. All I could think about was all of the horrible things that could possibly maybe happen. Of course there was the chance that nothing would go wrong...but what if it did? I didn't know if I was strong enough to survive a tragedy like that.


Of course, there were no difficulties. Roland is painfully healthy. He's smart and beautiful and amazing.


And you know what? I still worry. Every day, I swallow back a tiny bit of fear that something bad will happen to him. Life happens, and sometimes, no matter how hard we try--no matter how many vegetables I make him eat, or how many prayers we say at bed time--the unbearable hits us in the face.


Honestly, it makes me cry just sitting here and thinking about it.


I can't watch movies any more that center around dead children or dead babies or children or babies who have been horribly injured. It makes me hurt too much for the fictional parents and families who have to go through that.


I read this article today on cnn- http://www.cnn.com/2013/03/27/living/parenting-emily-rapp/index.html?hpt=hp_c3 Part of me wants to read her book. Another part of me knows that getting through it will be too hard for me. The author at one point in the interview says:


"I hear this a lot from parents, and it's like how is this in any way helpful? "Looking at your life makes me feel blessed." Which is another way of saying "I'm glad I'm not you.""


Is it wrong? To feel sympathy and pain for another person while at the same time, being grateful that you aren't in their shoes? Isn't that normal and human? I can see how that comment might hurt...and I can see how it would make a person angry. But most of us don't know what to say. We're busy silently counting our blessings while desperately trying to not show on our faces that we are relieved our children are safe.


I don't really know what to say to someone in this situation. All I can say is 'I am so sorry' and 'I love you. If I can do anything, please tell me.'


All I know is every time I read a story about something horrible happening, I hug my son and I give him a kiss. I cling to him and try to get him to stay still for a few minutes so I can show him how much I love him. Life is short, moments are fleeting. Children grow up so fast, and before you know it they're running and then in school and then they're off to college.


Hold tight to the moments you have. No matter how healthy your child is. Even if you have an abundance of moments, and you aren't one of the unlucky few to be cut short...savor everything you have.

What are you afraid of?

The last few days, the internet has been chock full of debates revolving around gay marriage.  Is it right, is it wrong, should we make it legal, should we execute all gay people, should we make them all civil unions and let the churches decide if they want to marry anyone at all?  The last is the one I vote for, by the way.

Some debates have been civil and kind.  I have seen some similar red icons go up that are anti-gay marriage, in a silent protest.

Other debates have been absolutely horrifying.  Terrible, awful things have been said to one another-from both sides of the debate.

"You're a faggot who is going to get AIDS and die and you deserve to rot in hell!"

"You're an evil, hateful bigot who is probably hiding your own latent homosexual feelings deep inside!"

There have been some pretty horrible things thrown around.

Then there are many of us who wait, patiently, for the day that the rest of the country wakes up and realizes what they've been doing and what they've been saying.  I'm about as supportive of gay marriage as a person can get...and I'm starting to realize that there is only so much yelling I can do.

When someone tells me that gay marriage should be banned because the Bible says so, I'm still going to call them on it.  'Do you cut your hair?  Do you wear a poly-cotton blend?  Do you love bacon (really, who doesn't?)  Do you believe that women should be property, and we should all own slaves?  Have you stoned your neighbor lately for working on Sunday?'

You can't throw the bible at this topic and not at all the others.  You can't hide behind the words in Leviticus without upholding everything.

Doesn't that seem a little unfair?  Really.  No matter what side of the topic you land on, step back for a moment from your preconceived notions.  Is it fair to pick from the bible what topics you will follow, and which ones you will demand that your neighbors follow?  No matter how squicky you might think gay marriage is--is it fair?  Do we have the right to judge the sins of others?

We all take something different out of the Bible, and we all take something different out of religion.  My God is a God of love and compassion and beauty.  My God fills his/her children with love and calls on them to make the world a better place.  Not just in his name, and not just for her, but for all of us.

My God makes us each who we are for a reason.  She makes us left-handed or crazy good at math or clumsy or with an annoying laugh or with a beautiful face or with an ugly one.  He makes us gay or straight or bisexual or asexual or transsexual.  God makes us who we are.  God makes us that way for a reason.

Every person that God creates is beautiful.  Every person that God creates is perfect, in his or her own way.

That includes the gay people and the left-handed people and every person in between.

God doesn't hate.  Humans hate.  God loves.  God wants us to love.

Don't blame the bible for your hatred and for you desire to preserve the "sanctity of marriage."  That is solely on you, as a person.  Not on your religion.  You can blame society to an extent, but really...that is a personal choice.

So I have to ask...What are you afraid of?

I am a terrible mother...

Today, I am a terrible mother.

Roland has been extra difficult today.  Or maybe it just seems that he's being extra difficult with my current inability to do, well, anything.  I was absolutely done by about...oh...10:30 this morning.

This came right after he crawled up on my mom's seat, grabbed the remote, and before I could snag him--drop it in her cup of water.

No, the remote doesn't work properly any more.

So, I plopped him in his high chair and wandered outside to pull out the play pen.  I set it up in the living room, and he has played in there all day.  Normally, I try to let him roam around the living room and play to his hearts content, but today, I just didn't have the energy.

He got tossed in the play pen most of the day.

Yeah, I know.  I'm a terrible mother.  I gave him some stuffed animals and some toys and his blocks.

Surprisingly enough, for the most part, he was pretty happy.  He sat and played with his blocks (my child is a genius and loves to put together his legos--squeee!) for much of the day.  There were a few points where he whined, but mostly, he was content.

I think that maybe, just maybe, after my weeping breakdown right before lunch, he realized that momma was not feeling well and needed a little bit of a break.

The playpen will be staying in the house, and likely will be staying up.  Thus far, he hasn't figured out how to get out of it.  I'm sure that won't last long...but there are moments where I need to, like, pee in peace.  Or put in laundry.  Or cook some food.  You know.  Things where I can't really have a child hanging on me.

Ahhh, blissful moments of peace...

I feel bad about that today.  But I don't think he's any worse for the wear.  Plus, he got to go to Diaper DareDevils tonight, so I guess that probably made up for it.

Choose Love

If you haven't heard, the Supreme Court is discussing some very important topics over the next few days.  Today, they've tackled Proposition 8.  Tomorrow, it will be DOMA.  Now, it's likely that we won't know anything right away.  Apparently, it could take until June for the decision to be made public.

I sat here this morning, watching my son play with his little tool kit.  Someday, down the road, I will be able to sit with him and tell him about this point in history when everything changed.  Because no matter how the Supreme Court rules, it will change things for all of us.

I want my son to grow up knowing love, not hate.

Here's the thing.  There is no reason that anyone who wants to get married shouldn't be able to.  Marriage licenses are issued by the government, and theoretically, the government shouldn't care that some religions find it offensive.

Really, if we followed the biblical marriage laws, divorce would be outlawed, guys would have multiple wives, and women would essentially be property.

Sounds like fun, doesn't it?

I know that there are people who don't agree with me.  I know that there are people who are important to me who believe that marriage is only between a man and a woman.  It breaks my heart a little that there are people who still believe that.

Want to preserve the sanctity of marriage?  Outlaw divorce.  Outlaw 72-day marriages that are all about the glamour and hype.  Outlaw marriages of convenience.  Do these things happen with gay marriage?  Sure, absolutely...why?  Because even gay couples are human.

Of course, then there is the absurd argument that a gay couple can't possibly raise children in a safe and secure and happy home.  What a load of crap that is!  How many children do we have in the United States who would love to be adopted and have a loving home?  A child doesn't need a mother and a father in order to grow up to be a functional adult.  A child needs people who love it, who cherish it, who teach it right from wrong and who will go to the ends of the earth to ensure their child is happy and healthy and safe.

How many straight couples abuse their children, or ignore their children, or harm their children?  Again, I'm sure that there are gay couples that will do the same...but not any more than straight couples.

And then we have the, 'Gay couples can only raise gay children' argument.  Again, bullshit.

At the end of the day, why does it matter?  Why do Steve and Mary Smith CARE if Joe and Eric Jones get married?  How does it affect them at all?  Does it really make people feel better about themselves, and better about their lives, to hold others down?

Choose love.  Always.  Choose love.

Today, I changed my userpic on Facebook, and I shared every loving and affirming meme I could find.  My actions are small and insignificant, but I do what I can.  I send my support and my love and my prayers to the people who are telling their side of the story, and to the Supreme Court as they wade through a difficult decision.  Personally, I think it should be easy...but I know that it's hard for them, and I can understand why.

And I teach my son to love and not hate.

I think that's the most important thing that I can do.  To try to teach my children how to be better people, in hopes that by the time they are adults, this will be a thing of the past.

The Joy of Bathtub Fingerpainting

I like to think that I am an amazing mom, but sometimes, things just don't quite go as planned...

Several weeks ago, I bought packages of vanilla pudding with the idea of making homemade finger paint for Roland.  At first, I planned on letting him sit in the highchair to paint and make a mess, but then decided that it would be better to just plop him down in the tub to do it.  Awesome idea, right?

Well.  Maybe awesome in theory...

I think that my first mistake came when I put a few globs of 'paint' on his arms.  He's definitely my son, and sometimes there are texture things that bother him.  He wasn't thrilled with that.  Then I put some big globs on the bottom of the tub.  He poked at it a little, but I don't think he liked getting his hands dirty with it, for some reason.

Then, of course, he pooped in the tub (I took his diaper off, cause I figured I'd just give him a bath when we were done.)  As I was cleaning that up, he decided to try to stand up, slipped in the pudding, and fell on his butt.

This started a horrible yet amusing chain of events where he was trying to scramble to his feet, slipping, whining, and attempting to climb out of the tub...all while I was trying to get him to sit down and calm down so that I could run the water and we could take a bath.

And then, even worse, when I started running the water it came out cold.

He was not a happy little boy!

Eventually, he was bathed, I cleaned all of the pudding gunk off me and the bottom of the tub, and he was safely wrapped in a towel and allowed to roam free in the wilds of the living room.

Next time we do this, I think we'll do it in the highchair in the kitchen, cause the linoleum is easier to clean than carpet.  If we do it in the tub again, I'll put down the bath mat first to make it easier...or maybe put him in a laundry basket.

Mom activity fail!

Of course, I think this might have been where I tweaked my back, which has made the rest of my day a living hell.  I've taken pain killers, and hopefully sleep will ease it a little.  If not, I will try to make a massage appointment for sometime this week!

The Art of Oreos

My child is almost painfully intelligent.  He will watch us do something, and then he mimics that...

I have a feeling this will come back to bite me in the ass when he is older.  But for now, I mostly think it's awesome and adorable.

Normally, when Roland gets oreos, all he gets is the chocolate part.  See, mom likes the filling.  So she takes half off and eats the half with filling on it, leaving all the little chocolate cookies.  And Roland, being the lover of sweets, usually gets those.

He has discovered that he is kind of getting the short end of the stick on this deal.

I'm having a rough day today.  In an excruciating amount of pain, which makes running after the baby difficult/impossible.  So he was sitting there, being a pill, and I went and got him an oreo.  The entire thing.

Yeah, I hurt so much that I couldn't even steal his filling.

So, he's sitting there on Uncle Cole's chair with an oreo.  I look over at him, and he is pulling the oreo apart.  He is very carefully about it, almost delicate, even.  He gets the cookie off without breaking it, which is pretty impressive in and of itself.  He sets the chocolate cookie to the side and attacks the filling.

I may be a little biased, and it's really a tiny thing.  But I find it absolutely hilarious and pretty damn impressive, to be honest!

I have a feeling this child is going to keep me on my toes.  Maybe we should rethink the idea of having another... ;)

Raising Children in the SCA

In 2001, when I was a Freshman in college, I stumbled into a world full of amazing, fantastic, geeky things.  I discovered LARP (live action Role Play.)  I was hooked immediately.  For many years, my life revolved around LARP.  I went to conventions all around the country, my friends were all fellow gamers, and my boyfriends were all people I met through the club.  I volunteered through the club where I played.  I met many wonderful and amazing people, some of whom are still very dear to me.

I met my husband through the club, through mutual friends.

For a long time, The Camarilla defined who I was as a person.  I was a roleplayer.  I LARP'd.  That was what I did in my free time.  That was pretty much my only hobby.

When we moved to Montana, things slowly started to change.  We had a chapter in Missoula, but it was pretty casual, and things never really got rolling.  I played online a lot, like I had when we were in Tulsa, but my interest began to wane.  As drama and bs became overwhelming on an out of character level, I started to take a step back.  I figured I would come back and play more when things where less crazy.

And then I got pregnant, and that all changed.

See, the group that we played with was 18 and up.  And I completely agree with that call.  We deal with a lot of adult and mature subjects...and frankly, I wouldn't feel comfortable playing with a 12 year old.  While some people have brought their children to conventions in the past, it wasn't something I was interested in.

Funny story.  We were at a convention once, and I saw something that nearly made my head explode.  There was a woman with a VERY tiny baby in a buggy.  She was pushing the baby around *in the gaming area.*  First, it's 18 and up, so the kid shouldn't have been there at all...even though it couldn't understand much.  Second, it is insanely distracting to have a tiny baby, even if the baby is well-behaved.  Third, you don't know all of these people...

Anyway.  That actually really bothered me.  At that point, Colin and I both pretty much decided we weren't going to take our kids to conventions.  I wasn't going to force them to stay in the room all weekend, and I just didn't feel comfortable taking my kids to a convention like that.  Even though I know that it's the only time they might get to meet some of the really important people in my life.

So, I'm pregnant.  And things were crazy in the club, and I took a huge step back.  I just couldn't get into the game.  About this time, Colin decided to get back into the SCA--the Society for Creative Anachronism.  I was interested, but his pushy behavior meant that I drug my feet in going.  I don't like being forced into anything...I'm stubborn like that.

Eventually, we moved to Hingham and Roland was born.  He was playing in Great Falls, but I didn't go with him.  I'm incredibly shy, first off, and I was kind of lost on how to go about starting.  I didn't know what to do for a persona, and everything was just completely overwhelming.

Last summer, he finally drug me to an event.  He was running the event, so I really felt that I had to go, so that I could fully support him.

I had an amazing time.  I volunteered in the kitchen, cause, well...that's what you do.  And I took classes and I met people and I just generally loved every minute of it.

Of course, I was hooked.

One of the major draws to the SCA, in my book, is that they are very family friendly.  Kids aren't shuffled off to the side to twiddle their thumbs.  They're brought into the fold and they're engaged in what we're doing.  It's like a big, happy, dysfunctional family.  Knowing that it was acceptable for me to bring Roland to events (and boy did I get an earful when he wasn't with us last summer) made it incredibly attractive.  We had a fun, geeky hobby that we could enjoy as a FAMILY.

Roland's first event was last August, at Whipping Winds.  It was a camping event, so it was also his first camping trip.  Despite some drama at the event and the bitter cold at night and the horrendous wind (hence the name) he had a blast.  He was happy and giggly and cheerful the whole time...expect when we tried to put him to bed, because God Forbid he miss ANY of the action.  He just loved it, and he ate up all of the attention that he got, being an adorable and friendly little boy.  This, more than anything, really told me that this was a good choice for our family.

I haven't made as many events as I would like.  Time and money and working on Saturdays has all conspired against us.  That will also be changing in the future.

Not only are children welcome and encouraged at events, but they're taught some valuable lessons in the SCA (although I can see how some children might become bratty...)  Chivalry is a big one.  As is volunteering.  Like any huge group, the SCA lives and dies by it's volunteers.  I'm a big believer in giving as much as I can to make the thing that I love beautiful.  I can't contribute much to the dream, because I'm still learning...but that doesn't mean I don't try!

I ran my first event earlier this month.  Like a silly girl, I volunteered to do it...panic really started to set in with the fact that it was only my fourth event.  Luckily, I had an insane amount of help, and everything went off without a hitch.

For my next trick, I'll be acting as Feast Steward for our event in July.  It'll be my one year anniversary playing, which just makes it all the better.

We joined a household recently that is very child friendly.  Everyone that I have met in the SCA has been welcoming and friendly and just amazing.  I admit I'm completely intimidated by the Peers and the Royalty and the people who have played forever and a day...luckily, I usually don't have any idea who they are, so I toddle about in my blissful ignorance.  We are so lucky that we have found something that will include our entire family, has welcomed us with open arms, and gives us so many wonderful and exciting opportunities.  I mean, really...how cool is it to recreate the (best parts of the) Middle Ages?

You want to know the best part about the SCA?

I mean, aside from the food.  And the classes.  And the music.  And all that other fun stuff that makes this just like adult 4-H on crack?

Fabric Porn.  Oh yeah.  I went there.

Sewing all our own garb means I get to buy a TON of fabric!  So much fabric...oh goodness, the fabric...

Ok, maybe feeding my fabric addiction is a bad thing.  I'll live!

Breaking the Chains of Bondage

Or,

How we Rid Ourselves of the Binkie and the Bottle in the Same Week!


Now, now, Mommies.  No hate mail.

We spent Roland's first Christmas here at home, and it was lovely.  The day after, we boarded a train and sped off to Fargo, ND, where Oma and Opa picked us up for a fun-filled week in Sioux City!

We boarded the train, and the child was thrilled!  There was a giant window with things to see and buildings to point at.  He squealed with glee and bounced in my lap and was perfectly happy and content with everything in the world.  He played with all of his toys that we'd brought in the carry on luggage, and it was a wonderful, easy trip.

For the first two minutes.

And then he squirmed and whined and grumped about not having room to crawl.

This alone would have likely made for a long and exhausting trip.

About two hours into the adventure, Mr. Man decided he was FAMISHED.  So I pulled out the meat and cheese and crackers I had brought along for the trip.  The boy of course attacked the food and devoured it.  I had some, Colin had some, we were all a fat and happy family.

And then something terrible happened.

He had a piece of licorice, you know, cause sugar would obviously help the hyperactivity.  At first, we thought he just gagged on the licorice...and then it came.

Lucky for me, Daddy was holding Roland and got the brunt of the explosion.

All. Over. The. Place.

Poor boyo.  We got everyone cleaned up and he promptly passed out.  I started to think that it was motion sickness, or he'd gagged himself.  He felt a little warm, but I had already given him tylenol for teething, and I didn't really think anything of it.

And then my poor sweet husband stumbled off to the bathroom.

We started to think that maybe the food was bad.  I had it in a small cooler, but it was a tad warm...not enough for food sickness, I didn't think.  Regardless, we tossed it all away.  None of us were feeling very hungry at this point anyway.

Roland woke up, and while he didn't throw up again, he was not interested in formula.  All he wanted was water out of his sippy cup.

Not long after this, I started feeling the rumbling of tummy weasels.  I resisted as long as I could, but, well.  You know how it goes.

At this point, I started to suspect it was NOT food poisoning   Particularly since my husband was sick numerous times.  And every time I would drink water, I was following him.  I'm just thankful that the child didn't get sick more...

Yes, we all were current on flu shots.  I can only assume our trip would have been worse if we hadn't been.

Anyway.  Our trip out was pretty horrific.  The train itself wasn't bad, but I hate getting sick.  Hate it more than anything else in the world.  Hate, Hate, Hate.  We got into Fargo, collapsed into bed at the hotel for a few hours, and then started the long drive back to Sioux City.

Of course we ran into snow and bad weather.

Of course!

I was still pretty sick, although I wasn't puking anymore.  Poor Roland was not feeling well.  He didn't want any formula, he didn't want to eat, all he wanted was to nurse his water.  And he didn't drink much of that either.

When we got to Sioux City, I went right to comforting and loving on my poor little boy.  He kept refusing his bottle, which was actually starting to worry me a little.  He wouldn't drink formula, and he didn't want to eat much food.  He would drink a little pedialyte, but not much.  He didn't have a fever, but he was obviously not feeling well.

I tried to give him his binkie, you know, as you do when your child is sick.  He looked at it, chewed on it a bit, and promptly spit it out.  I just kind of stared at him.  This is a boy who was glued to his binkie from day one.  So I tried again, and one again, it ended up hanging.

I thought maybe it was a fluke.  With the illness and all of us exhausted and crabby, I couldn't quite believe that something amazing may have just happened.

So I continued to try to binkie over the next few days.  Same thing.  SUCCESS!

The bottle was the same story.  He would suck down his sippy cup like nobody's business, but he wanted nothing to do with the bottle.  He'd chew on the nipple, stare at it, and then just throw it down.  Eventually, I figured out what he was doing and I poured his formula into the sippy cup.

Bingo.  That got his attention.

I swear, I was so happy I could cry.  I really thought that the bottle and the binkie were going to give us a lot of trouble when he got older.  But no, he just decided one day that he was going to be done with it.  There have been a few times since then that I've offered the binkie, but he's not interested.  The bottles were put away, and haven't come out since then.

I don't know if it was a combination of feeling ill and being off his schedule due to travelling, or if teething pain caused it, or if he just came to the right conclusion.  But whatever it was, I am so damn happy that he decided to be done!

Now if only potty training goes this easily...and if it does, THEN you can all hate me.

Thoughts on Rape Culture

I know that the rape culture exists.  I see it in my friends who have been sexually abused.  I see it in the media.  I see it in the way society portrays women, and the way we treat victims and abusers alike.

I read stories from women who talk about how they spend time every day debating what to wear, so that they don’t dress too provocatively.  Or too dumpy.  Or too trashy, too old, too…whatever.  They fix their hair a certain way and do their make up a certain way, just to make sure they don’t give anyone the wrong impression.

I’ve never done that.

Sure, sometimes when I’m going out to the club or bar, I consider what I’m going to wear.  But my mind never, NEVER goes to, ‘I shouldn’t wear this because someone might think I’m a slut and rape me.’  It’s more, ‘Is this going to make me look extra super fat and ugly tonight?  Do I really care?’  The answer is usually no.

I wonder why my mind does this.  Is it because I’ve been raised somewhere where rape isn’t prevalent?  Or is it because as someone who is morbidly obese, I figure that no one would want to rape me anyway?

The more I think about it, the more it worries me a little.  When I was younger, I wasn’t cautious.  I rarely went out to the bar alone, but that’s because I’m shy.  These days, I generally make sure I have a sober babysitter, but there have been many conventions where I haven’t had that.  Several of them, I almost got myself in trouble.

At one event in 2006, shortly after a breakup that left me in a very bad place, I went to a convention.  I was dating someone new, but I was still pretty messed up over things.  I used the convention as an excuse to drink way too much.  I started drinking Wednesday evening when we rolled into Louisville, and I was still drunk when we left Sunday morning.  I joke about this con a lot, because it’s where I had my infamous evening of introducing myself to everyone in the ballroom where we were partying.  Multiple times.  Even people that I knew.  Like, people that I knew really well, from my home town.

Maybe not a shining moment in my life.

Anyway, Saturday night of the convention, was epic drunkness.  This was the evening of the Midori in a squirt bottle.  Near the end of the night, I was in pretty bad shape.  There was one point where…well, somehow, the conversation turned to my boobs (that’s normal, right?)  And before I knew it, two of the guys I was hanging out with were groping me and kissing me.  I didn’t really mind, mostly because I was drunk.  Way too drunk.  Especially with guys that I didn’t know at all.

Luckily, a dear, dear friend was in the ballroom as the sober coordinator on duty.  As soon as he saw what was going on, he gently pried the guys off me.  I was in that drunk state where I didn’t really care—I was drunk and depressed and lonely.  He found two guys who were sober-ish and reliable, and sent them to walk me back to my hotel room.  Good thing I had an escort…stairs were difficult in my state.

I don’t know if I would have done anything with these guys.  I might have, even though I was dating someone at the time.  I know that makes me a terrible person, but then again—I was a very different person seven years ago.

Anyway.  It was just something strange that came to my mind.  I know that I am too trusting.  It’s something that I need to be aware of, and something that I think I need to be more careful about.

I’m still likely not going to worry too much about what I’m wearing when I leave the house.  Usually it’s just yoga pants and a tanktop.

But it’s still something to think about.

Potato Soup

I first made this soup last year around the holidays.  We had a ham with lots of leftovers, and I figured I would give it a try.  It needed to be used up anyway, and if it flopped, then there was always hamburgers from the bar.

No flopping.  This soup was a MAJOR success.

This is one of my favorite soups to make.  It is ridiculously easy and absolutely delicious.  It reheats well, and it's great to make and leave in a crockpot to eat on all day long.

Just as a reminder--I don't really use measurements.  Sorry guys, I fly by the seat of my pants.  On the bright side, this lets you experiment and make it all your own!  And this way, if it flops, you can't blame me...

April's Amazing and Delicious Potato Soup

1) Start with HAM.  I almost always use a ham bone that has been cooked.  I buy them extra big so I have extra ham for this soup.  Cut off as much of the meat as you can.  If you want to save some meat for other stuff, put that to the side.  I recently made this with bacon ends that I had cooked up and it turned out absolutely delicious.  It didn't have quite as much of a hammy taste, and was a little saltier, but it was very good.  So that is also an option.

2) Combine equal amounts of chicken broth and half-n-half.  You can use milk if you prefer, but I like the thickness the half-n-half provides.  You can also use water and add bouillon if you'd like--I've done it both ways, and it works either way.  Generally, if I am using chicken broth, I end up adding a little extra bouillon anyway.  Toss in some pepper (or a lot...) and some Alpine Touch (you haven't bought any yet?  What is wrong with you?!?)  I usually don't add any salt, as the pork will add a lot of saltiness.  Put in a massive pot on medium heat, or a crock pot for all day long cooking goodness.  Toss the ham bone and your meat in.  

3) Cook for 45 minutes to an hour.  Keep an eye on it so it doesn't boil over, because it like will try to do that.  You may want to add more bouillon and water, but that will just be to your personal taste preferences. If you wanted to add onions or other veggies, I suppose you could do that here too...but why ruin a perfectly good soup with green things?!?

4) Give the broth a taste, add more spices if needed.  Pull out the ham bone.  Chop up potatoes, roughly the same amount of meat that you put in.  If you want, you can peel them, but I never do.  I just scrub them up really well and toss the whole thing in.  The best potatoes for this are red or yukon gold, but plain old spuds will work just fine as well!  These will usually take 10-15 minutes to cook until they are soft.

5) This is completely optional, but this is how we like it.  At this point, we add a small amount of instant mashed potatoes to the broth.  This thickens the broth slightly and makes it a bit hardier.  My favorite potatoes to use for this are the Four-Cheese Instant potatoes.  Thicken and give it a faint cheesy taste, but you can use anything really.  You could also take a potato masher and mash the potatoes in the soup slightly.  Add the instant potatoes slowly, because they will thicken the broth quickly.  

6) Serve with a healthy handful of cheddar cheese and some delicious crusty bread!

This soup is super easy and delicious.  It reheats really well and it sticks with you.  I've made it before with the hams that you get that are perfectly oblong (you know the ones...) and it just doesn't quite have the same flavor to it.  You could use that, but you'd want to maybe add some ham base to it.  The bacon ends were a huge hit, and they were plenty fatty enough to add some really good flavor to the soup.  My favorite though is using the ham bone.

Food Porn!

For anyone who knows me, you know that I'm a certified fat kid.  I like brownies and cookies and cake and ice cream and well...anything that's good.  I'm also an incredibly picky eater.  I suspect I'm a super taster...or maybe I'm just a brat, I dunno yet.

So!  I'll be putting up different recipes and such.  I do a lot of "home cooking."  Fried foods, gravy, butter.  Not necessarily good for you, but damn tasty!  Before I do that though, fair warning--I don't use measurements.  I just kind of go with the flow and cook to taste.

I also use a lot of Alpine Touch.  And since most people aren't in Montana, you probably have no idea what it is.  It's an amazing spice mix that is kind of like crack.  Seriously.  When you start using it, you'll never want to stop.  I buy it in massive jugs and it lasts for like two weeks...ok, maybe closer to a year, but still.  If you want some of your own, you can find it at http://www.alpinetouch.com/.  Or substitute your own favorite spice mix.  Or leave it out.  The possibilities are endless!

Later, I'll get my recipe for Potato Soup up for people.  It's delicious, and definitely one of my favorites.

Diaper DareDevils

Several months ago, I had this bright idea.  You see, we have a local gym (local being Havre, which is 40 miles away, but I digress) that does gymnastics and cheerleading and all kinds of fun stuff.  I knew for a fact that they did little kid tumbling.

I have a little kid. He's full of piss and vinegar.  Let's see how old they have to be to start tumbling!

I figured it would be 3 or something, but I wanted to get an idea.

And there it was.  Diaper DareDevils.  A class dedicated to babies.  Kids that can walk to age three.  Of course, at the time, he wasn't quite walking yet, so we had to wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

He started really walking after Christmas.  While we were in Iowa, Oma offered to help pay the tuition for his first session of classes.  When we got back, by the time he was really walking around well, I was deep into school work.  Although I hated to make him wait, I really couldn't spare the evenings to take him to class.

And then, after school was done, someone came down with a terrible bout of RSV.  So we waited some more.

And then, of course, we had a night of not sleeping followed by a day of the grumpys.  Bad idea to take him to something new when he was already in a crabby mood.

Finally, the day came.  Last night, we packed the boy child up and sped off to our first class.  He had so much fun!  There were five or six other little kids there, all of them girls of course.  I always knew my son would grow up to be Big Pimpin'.  The little ones basically were given free reign over certain pieces of equipment.

We started in the pit full of smooshy balls that had a beam over it.  He stood on top of the blocks and wasn't quite sure what to think.  After that, Daddy put him on the tumbling trampoline thingy-bobber.  He was not pleased with this at all.  So, I snagged him, gave him a cuddle, and we sat on it together.  And he took off.  It took him a little while to realize that he could jump on it, but he ran and crawled up and down, and tumbled off the edge onto the mat.

We ran around, walked on the balance beam, played with a massive ball, and stood proudly atop the vault.  It was glorious.

By the end of the class, he was cheerfully wading through the smooshy blocks, and working to impress the ladies.  Several of them weren't thrilled with his advances (we've gotta teach him that he's got to be smooth and gentle to the girls...pulling their hair and smacking at them won't make him any friends) but there were a few others that were willing to play with him.  He was the youngest one there, the next youngest being 16 months old.

Colin and I both had a lot of fun as well.  We visited a little with the other parents, which was nice.  I feel horribly out of place with the other moms though.  All of them look like they're gymnasts too--all tiny and adorable.  Here I am in my yoga pants and tanktop.  Yeah, ladies...I'm freakin' lucky I got a shower today.  Don't judge me!  But everyone was very nice, super friendly, very welcoming.  Roland got along well with the little girls, and was just his normal charming self.

Right now, we signed him up for one class a week.  I think that we're going to change that, and start taking him twice.  Mondays and Wednesdays for 45 minutes.  Theoretically, it'll help him blow off some energy, and it won't hurt him at all to get into a sport at a young age.  When we move to Missoula, we'll be signing him up at a gym there, provided he's still enjoying himself.

And now--a picture!  The future gold medal Olympian gazes off into the future, towards his hopes and dreams and many medals!  Oh, and cookies.  Don't forget the cookies...

Back to Work

Recently, I started mulling over the idea of going back to work full-time.  You see...we're going to be moving to Missoula in the near future.  In order to make the move (the way I want to make it, that is) we need to have a good chunk of money saved up.  We need to buy furniture and stuff and actually build a household.  We haven't really had much of our own stuff in 2 1/2 years.  We were living with roommates in Missoula, and then with my parents.  So...we have a lot of stuff to buy.  And, you know, things to decorate.

Oh god...I can decorate...the way I WANT to decorate!

I may just pass out from the excitement here.

Anyway.  The decision to go back to work full time is really a painful one.  Yes, I know many mothers do it. I know MANY of my friends do it.  I respect you all like crazy.  And while I really do miss working full time (and leaving the house every day...and having adult conversations...and clothes that aren't just yoga pants and tank tops) it still makes my stomach hurt to think about leaving Roland.  For one, he hasn't spent much time around other littles, and he doesn't play very well.  For another, he's terrible about napping, and I know that whoever takes him is going to hate me just a little.  And...well...I'll miss him.  I'll miss his antics and his sweet little kisses and cuddles.

I won't miss the temper tantrums, though.  Or the pinching.  Or the little nibbles.  Or the constant need to climb on everything and get into ALL the things.

But dammit if I won't miss him.

I'm worried about missing out on things.  Even the little, insignificant things like hugs and kisses and the happy grins when I chase him around the room, and the way he loves on the dog.

On the other hand, he needs the socialization.  And sometimes I think I need the break.  And despite the fact that we'll have to pay for daycare, the extra money from me working (I'm only taking a job that pays fairly well) will still be a huge benefit when it comes time to move.  Colin is picking up a second job until the end of the school year, and then will be working there this summer.  But the extra money will give us some padding, while still letting us do fun stuff this summer.

Rationally, all the signs point to me working full-time being the right choice in this situation.  Not just for the money, but because he has to get some time in with other kiddos, and we have to work through separation anxiety at some point.

I'm still going to miss my baby.  And I'm dreading the first full day that I have to leave him.

Not ok...

I want you to watch a video.  And if you are anything like me, it's going to be hard for you to stomach.  You might want to throw things or hit a pillow or cry.  But it's important to watch it anyway.

http://www.upworthy.com/cnn-pays-touching-tribute-to-the-rapists-who-attacked-a-16-year-old-girl

Where are the videos about the girl?  Where is the CNN tribute about how her life has been irrevocably changed due to the drunken stupidity of her classmates?  Where is her story, and where are the people who support her and love her and tell her that it's never going to be ok...but that life will eventually go on.

I'm furious about this.  I have righteous mommy rage over this.

Watching this video...well, the first boy didn't really seem terribly apologetic.  He apologized for taking the pictures and for them sitting around...he didn't really apologize for RAPING THE GIRL.  The second boy, yeah, his apology seemed a lot more heartfelt.  And I'm going to believe that, rather than assuming that he's just a good actor.  Yes, these boys are young, and their lives are going to be changed forever.  They are always going to carry this stigma with them.  Will it ruin their lives?  Perhaps.  If they let it.

Do they deserve it?  All of this and more?

You bet your fucking ass they do.

Actions have consequences.  It doesn't matter that they were all drunk and stupid...they should have stopped. Someone should have stopped them.  I read through many of the text messages and twitter posts that were sent the night of the rape and they're just...horrible.  There were some half-hearted attempts to stop this poor girls rape...but why didn't anyone call the cops?  Why didn't anyone go find their friends and force them to stop this?  Why did they let it go on?

Why didn't their parents teach them better than that?

I can't even imagine the heartache that the parents are feeling.  The parents of the victim as they watch their daughter go through something no one should have to endure, and the parents of the assailants, as they watch their children's lives fall apart, and wonder where they went wrong.  As a mother, my heart breaks for all of the people involved.  Yes, even the assailants.

Why don't more parents teach their sons that this is NOT OK.  Touching a girl, touching anyone, without their permission is NOT OK.  I'll never preach 'no sex before marriage' to my kids.  But I will absolutely make sure that they understand the repercussions of their actions.  Our sons--and our daughters--need to know that this is not ok.  Getting a girl drunk, taking her picture, and raping her...is not ok.  And the girl is not a whore because she gets raped.

It just...boggles my mind.  My heart breaks for this poor girl.  Not only was she violated, but all of her peers hate her.

Roland will be better than this.  And if he sees something like this happening, he'll stand up for the victim.  Because that is the way that we will raise our son.

I weep for a world where it's ok to blame the victim, and it's acceptable for news briefs to focus on the tragedy that the RAPISTS have lost out on their future.  That is not ok.  CNN, this is not ok.  What the hell kind of message are you sending here?

Chatty Boy

Every day, Roland is talking more and more.  I just love watching him pick up new words and parrot us.

He loves to sit there and chat.  It's a lot of babbling still, but I know that once he figures it all out, he is going to talk and talk and talk.

Mama
Dada
Cat
Dog
Piper
Buck
Bunny
Uncle
Cole
Please
Water
Bottle
Up
Get Out
Hi
Hello
Bye-Bye

Cuddly Baby

Roland has this new adorable, and slightly obnoxious habit.  If you are holding him and carrying him around, and you try to put him down, he'll pull up his legs and try to climb up you further so that putting him down requires placing him on his butt and getting all the way down on the ground.  On one hand, it makes you feel pretty good that he wants to be held and cuddled by you...on the other hand, this massive, 30lb boy is hell on my back anyway!

I first noticed him doing it last week with Colin, and then on Saturday when Chas was heading back to school he refused to let go of his Uncle.  He's done it to my dad and to me quite a few times since then.  Silly baby.

He is such a cuddly little lover.  Makes up for the moments when he is a complete pain in my ass!

Life of Pi

Last night, we watched Life of Pi.  I have to say that I was very impressed with the movie.  Visually, it was absolutely breathtaking.  I can't even imagine seeing it in 3-D.  Just...really stunning.  I could watch it over and over again just to see the scenery.

It also left me thinking, things that I am still trying to really wrap my brain around.

I am a very spiritual person, but I'm not religious.  I have a lot of issues with organized religion and the church, as a general rule.  I've had a lot of bad experiences, and if it weren't for my husband, I would never go to church.  I prefer to worship and pray in my own time and in my own way, without feeling pressure.

(I will warn you now, there are spoilers ahead.  If you don't want them, you should skip this.)

Pi weaves this amazing story for his new young author friend.  It is unbelievable and heartbreaking and inspiring.  At the end of the movie, Pi tells another story.  This story is just as heartbreaking and just as unbelievable, but in an entirely different way.

I've had a lot of arguments with people over the years about the Bible and the way that people interpret it.  I think this movie really sums my feelings up perfectly.

You can read the story about a mild mannered man who inspires people with his words, who teaches and preaches and spreads love and tolerance.  Then you can read a story about an energetic man who performs miracles, sowing love and belief wherever he goes.

They're the same story.  The start the same and end the same.  You can learn the same morals, find your heart filled with both.  But one is more exciting than the other.

It's my personal belief that very few of the stories in the bible actually happened the way they are written.  In oral traditions, stories are changed and embellished to captivate an audience and ensure they walk away with their lesson.  You need flash and you need excitement.

But just like in this movie, it doesn't really matter which story is true.

It isn't the end of the story that matters.  What really matters is the journey you endured to get there.

Shoes

This kid of mine...

Roland loves shoes.  He loves to play with his shoes, or Grandpa's shoes or Grandma's shoes or really any shoes that he can get his grubby little hands on (note to self--those hands need their nails clipped.)  Ever since he was little he has loved shoes.  He used to just chew on them.  Now, he'll pick them up and drag them around by the laces, untie and try to retie them, or put them on.

Unfortunately, I just missed the perfect photo op!  He had one shoe on backwards (toes towards the heel) and another shoe on his hand, wandering around looking totally thrilled with himself.

Nailed it!

For months, he refused to keep his shoes on his own feet.  Now, when he sees his shoes, he brings them up to me and whines until I put them on him.  He is so damn goofy.

Chaos

There are times that I sit and look at my son, and I almost can't believe that he's mine.  I mean, obviously, I know he's my kid--labor was easy, but it wasn't THAT easy--but my brain still has a hard time accepting the fact that I'm a mom.  Those moments usually come when he's being amazing.  When he's talking, or laughing, or playing in a new and exciting way.

Then he hauls off and pinches the crap out of my arm, or bites me, or crawls up into my lap and starts crying for no reason and I realize.  Oh yeah.  He's totally my kid...

I'm blessed, because all things considered, Roland is an easy kid.  He's happy and cheerful, and he's a total snuggly lover.  He is stubborn as hell, though, which is definitely going to make life interesting when he's a teenager.  He loves the animals and he loves to wander around the living room and talk.  And he refuses to listen when you tell him to not climb onto the furniture where I always envision plummeting to his untimely death.  He doesn't like sitting in dead grass but boy does he love playing on my computer.  The way he grows and changes is totally thrilling, and sometimes, completely frustrating.

In short: my little boy is absolutely perfect.

It isn't easy.  It's never easy in our house.  There is crying and there are fits and there are stubborn boy moments.  There is playing in things he shouldn't play in and stealing the remote control and giggling with glee as he makes his great escape.  It isn't easy, but it's beautiful, and it's always fun.  Even when he's whiny and clingy and frustrating, it's still fun.  For all of the things in my life that frustrate me in my life, there is one thing that I wouldn't change for the world.

It's not an easy life, but it's our life, and it's perfect.  Despite the chaos.