How we narrowly escaped death and child abduction.

Here is the story of how we (narrowly) escaped death and child abduction. On my first, official summer outing with all four of my children.

If you live in St. Louis, you know where this is going. The picture above (and below), is of St. Louis' City Museum. This place is creative packaging on crack cocaine. It is infinitely inspiring and jaw dropping in it's design and its offerings for kids. Think old-school factory, turned four-story fun house complete with tunnels and slides galore.

And I love it. But mind you, I haven't been there for YEARS...and it is much larger and more impressive now than I remembered it. You may already realize that the reason for my absence was the birth of my many small children. And unless you are bug-like with many eyeballs all over your head, boneless with the ability to crawl into small crevices, or possessing the ability to fly...well, this is a tough place for small fries.

Excuse me. This is a GREAT place for young kids. It's a tough place for parents of young kids. Case in point: Dragging my large suitcase-purse behind me, I attempted to shimmy through a hollowed log that cut across the ceiling of the indoor caves. Apparently the presence of hips makes you "not-ideal" for this activity, and for a moment it looked like I was going to pull a "Pooh-bear-stuck-in-the-honey-tree" type of scenario. But I think my puddles of sweat made me slippery and able to eek through.

At one point, Little J crawled into a tunnel in the enchanted caves on the 1st floor. And ended up in Art City on the 4th floor.

Okay, not really. But he did find himself a bit disoriented when he exited at least 100 feet away, in the middle of a dark cave. Being high on Tylenol with Codine (remember tonsils) for four days didn't help either, I suppose.

And here's the thing about the City Museum. The kids could entertain themselves for hours, on and in the miles worth of wire tunnels and caves and mazes that weave throughout this building. But the entrances to these labyrinths DO NOT correspond to their exits. You enter at point A. You exit at point H, maybe Y, or possibly Q.

But really, this is all about our biggest fiasco.

I lost Big J out on Metrocity...the wire mesh maze that wraps around the outside of the museum, and is easily three-floors high (pictured up top). We're talking about staircases that wind their way up to jet airplanes, suspended by some sort of voo-doo magic, above massive amounts of children crawling through these spaces like naked mole rats. I carried Little J up to a lookout point, and here's where I realized I might not like heights so much.

Here is also where Big J made his break. Obviously sensing my heart palpitations and the 28-pound load I was carrying (Little J), Big J seized the opportunity and continued to crawl in the direction of the suspended fire truck (I think), and exited down one of 75,000 hidden slides.

"Peace out, Mother, I'm headed West, where there is gold to be found and land to be claimed," is what he said. I swear. Before I could tell him that was a dream from another century, he was gone.

So, I hand Little J and L off to my life-saving pal, Amy, and proceed to head back up the wire stairs of death, all the while trying to identify MY little naked mole rat, amidst all the other little frantic pink crawlers winding their way in and out of the tunnels.

Yelling is pointless. For one thing, he might have one of the most common names of all time. And I guarantee there were at least 12 other frantic mothers searching for a boy of the same name and description, at that precise moment. Secondly, everyone on this thing was screaming. Screaming names, screaming fun sounds, screaming sad sounds, screaming in Arabic. All screaming.

There are slides that take you from level three, down to level one...ball pits that make perfect hideouts...an infinite number of staircases and tunnels. I may have traveled back to 1988 for a sec. Not to mention, it's completely possible to wander back inside the museum, which adds four more floors and at least 5 more miles of tunnels and caves and portals and staircases. And it's all made out of wire, which if you start to think about it for just a second, seems somewhat unsturdy and jungle-gym like...which begs the question:

Has any child tried to climb outside of the cage? Because it's got to be possible.

And then I realize that being near the top of a creepy, seemingly unsafe, wire cage (when you are, surprisingly, afraid of heights) is NOT the place to question your child's ability to follow the rules NOR his fine-motor strength/ability to hang on if he finds himself suspended above a parking lot, holding on for dear life.

Fear not, dear readers. Big J was found. I don't even know where, and even if I could tell you, I'm not sure I could ever find my way back to that place. I'm too large and fearful. So, after rounding the troops, I headed for the previously mentioned ball pit, which became a convenient place to contain runaway mole rats.

I saw a woman drinking a beer there. Oh yes, they sell alcohol, which makes this place all the more AWESOME or horrifying (depending on your point of view). My point being I almost grabbed that bottle right out of her hands and downed it with the skill of the keg-stander I am. Something to take the edge off.

Almost.

She did, however, get BUSTED, because apparently glass is not allowed near the ball pits. Go figure.

Sometime, maybe 20 minutes later, I found G--who cannot technically be considered lost because she is 6 years old, and that is the age of a voting citizen in the wire-cage-mole-rat world. And then we navigated ourselves indoors to Art City.

Messy? Yes. But it involved sitting and non-physical-activity. Void of tunnels and smaller than the size of Disneyworld. I had no idea heaven was a splattered room full of paint and clay. And when we successfully covered our hair, armpits and belly buttons in paint, we left.

All children accounted for (barely). No broken bones, though definitely a possibility, given the steep slopes and concrete in the skateless skate park (story for another time). LOTS of fun had.

Peace out, City Museum. See you in five years.

Summer, summer, summertime....

On Tuesday, I officially resume my full-time job as mom to four young children.

And I say resume, because the oldest 3--G, Big J and L--have been in school five days a week since September. For nine months, it's been just me and Little J every weekday morning. And when the wondertwins returned home at noon, we had just enough time for lunch and a little play...before nap time.


Mike is around on weekends, and that is INFINITELY more helpful that doing it alone.

But starting Wednesday, I am on my own. And I'm a little scared. Need I remind you, they outnumber me. And while they don't know that they wield this kind of power, they can, at any minute, reduce me to a pile of nervous mush. All it would take is a fall that induces some sort of blood spillage or bone breakage that would require stitches or a cast.

Once, Little J slipped on some water and lay screaming on the floor. I almost fainted just thinking of the head injury possibilities. I mean, even the screaming is sometimes enough to do it.

But we are in it to win it, starting Wednesday. I am determined to love this summer, and not just survive it. And for me, that's going to take a little work.

Listen, when I was working in PR (which I HATED), I couldn't just show up to a client meeting unprepared, and not look like a lazy idiot. My job took some planning, some research. I don't think the job of mommy is any different, though it's taken me a while to figure that out.

I sometimes think that "mommying" is supposed to be natural. It's what we do. It's our nature to nurture, right? To paint and play dress up and build forts. Except that it's not that easy. For me anyway(especially if the activity involves Legos). I work better with a plan. I like the structure of a schedule. I find comfort in know my boundaries, and the limits of my kids--because when those lines are crossed, it is not pretty.

And I am just not fun when I'm not sure what to expect. It makes me nervous. Not for myself...but for the emotionally volatile little people I supervise for a living. There is nothing scarier than an angry toddler army.

I LOVE the idea of being spontaneous. And as much as it is possible for my life and family, I am up for it. But four children means that I have to have a plan. I can't walk out the door in 5 minutes--it takes at least 15, and that's only if we're already dressed. Unclothed=20 minutes minimum. Activities outside the house can last a maximum of 2.5 hours, before the next meal time. Unless I pack lunch, which adds another 15 minutes on to our departure time.

The heart of the battle to enjoy (versus survive) my summer are my own expectations. I now know that life with 4 kids is logistically difficult. Someone is going to scream and probably be some degree of unhappy all the time. I am okay with that. But it helps to be ready. To anticipate what does and does not work. To know limits, when to push them and when to step back. To know what can be solved with a juice box and what requires a timeout.

So here is my pep talk for Summer '09: I will be prepared! I will enjoy our moments at home and broaden the horizons of my children outside the house! I will plan ahead, and look at the weather forecast ahead of time! I will be consistent! I will potty train my last child (or cry until Mike does it...I do have a weekend away in July!)! I will have a GREAT attitude, even when they beat me up a little. I will be intentional with the time we have, because it is shockingly short. And one day I will want it back, when I forget what it sounds like to have 4 young voices yelling/crying at me. I will work HARD to give them a great summer...and also rest easy and give myself the grace to relax!

You with me, moms?

Up next: a recap of our first activity of summer. It's a winner.

My Friday.

It is 2:00 p.m.

We have just returned from the pool.

John has been going ballistic for 20 minutes because he lost his rock. Yes literally, a rock.

In our absence, the dog managed to open and eat 5 individual packets of fruit gummies, with multiple other packages punctured and wounded (but not completely devoured) scattered amongst the kitchen floor. It's a gummie massacre up in here.

I had a brown recluse spider crawling on my arms, inside my shirt and my pajama shorts for approximately 1.5 minutes this morning, before I managed to rid myself of it by stripping down naked in my dining room with no window treatments. Pretty sure I have at least 5 bites and that I will go into some sort of anaphelactic shock in the next few hours. Also pretty sure it was a brown recluse, based on my comprehensive knowledge of spiders, my level of hysteria and my tendency to jump to the worst case scenario.

The most commonly used word in my vocabulary, on a daily...no hourly....make that minute-by-minute basis, is either "no" or "stop". Not sure which would win.

Did you know that Chinese dwarf hamsters are recommended for children 14 years and older (according to Petsmart)? What 14 year old wants a hamster?

I just allowed a child with 3-day-old ear tubes and wounds from a tonsillectomy play in a pool for 2 hours. It seemed better than the alternative. And now we wait to see what kind of gunk oozes from his ears/throat in the next few hours.

I have only eaten one macadamia nut covered in toffee and chocolate today. This is a small miracle.

I have had 2 diet cokes and zero ounces of water beginning at 8:12 this morning.

My house is in it's normal state of disaster, but I am choosing to lay on my couch and watch "Americas Next Top Model". I felt guilty about it for 20 minutes. I start to doze sometime during Angelina Jolie's True Hollywood Story. And then the phone rang 5 different times. Can't a girl catch a break?

I'm gearing up for summer, but I'm not quite there yet. I am a creature of habit, and we have been in the same routine for nine months. Not waking at 6:45...welcome change. Sunscreening 4 children and continually fearing for their lives at the pool...that takes some getting used to.

Yucandu.

Is anyone else out there inspired by creative spaces? I suppose this is somehow related to my obsession with pretty packaging, but I just can't seem to help myself when I am surrounded by all things artsy. And creative. And colorful. The combination of playfully messy (or purposefully chaotic) and beautifully organized is possibly my favorite combination.

So, imagine my surprise, when I stumble across Yucandu. Not so much stumble, I guess...since I've known they were there for over a year. But when I walked in with G on Memorial Day, I had no idea I would find this:



I mean, don't you think you could be the next Michelangelo if you had a full palate of paint colors, like this?

Yup. A blissfully stimulating and brilliantly colorful art studio named "Yucandu". It's 2 minutes away from our house. And it's been there for 6 years. Kind of like finding a $100 bill in your pocket, while doing the wash. Exciting to have the money, but you really could have used it weeks ago.

That's how I feel about Yucandu. I've been waiting for it all my life. So Grace and I wandered in there on a hunch, and stayed for a while. It works similar to those paint-it-yourself pottery places--they have a million projects to choose from, any of which you can bedazzle with mosaics, decoupage or paint. You pay for the project, and then $3 per hour for studio time.

Here is what G chose (after a little begging and pleading from me to select something different). It appears that wall plaques are not as cool as paper mache in the shape of a cat. Here we are, just getting started...


And this is the finished product...G's cat, Cher.

I wouldn't call this place inexpensive, by any means. But I would definitely go back...as often as I can justify a $25 paper mache cat. Because the truth is that all of these projects are easily do-able at home...but the atmosphere, oh the atmosphere. Infinitely inspiring. Any ol' yahoo can buy 100 colors of paint, a bunch of canvases, loads of paper mache livestock (yes, there were cows) and charge you to create...but this place is packaged perfectly. Beautifully.

Definitely worth a looksy...if you find yourself in Webster!

Recipes.

Back to the dinner party. The tonsils were only a slight detour, but I will report that the patient is doing incredibly well, and has even had breakfast this morning. Turns out he will not starve himself this week, after all.

But today I am going to share two of my favorite recipes from our dinner party last Friday...because they were great. And I feel I can say that without being smug, because this was my FIRST time making them, so I can take no credit. I am strictly a "read-the-instructions-and-follow-exactly" kind of cook.

First, the breakfast casserole. Titled "Sausage and Egg Casserole with Sun-dried Tomatoes and Mozzarella". Or SECWSTM. Whatever you prefer.

Ingredients:

1 pound Italian sweet sausage, casings removed (I bought mine in the meat section, packaged like ground beef. No casings to be disposed of).

1/2c chopped shallots

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1/2 c. oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, drained and chopped

4 tbsp. chopped fresh parsley

1 c chopped spinach (I added this all on my own...so if you like the spinach, I'll take credit for that).

For the egg topping:
5 large eggs and 3 large egg yolks (I used 8 whole eggs, at the suggestion of a review I read)

1 cup whipping cream

1 cup half and half

2 cups grated mozzarella cheese

1/2 tsp. salt

Preheat oven to 375°F. Butter 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Sauté sausage in medium nonstick skillet over medium heat until brown and cooked through, breaking up with back of fork into small pieces, about 10 minutes. Add shallots and garlic and sauté 3 minutes. Add sun-dried tomatoes and 2 tablespoons parsley (and spinach, if you so desire); stir 1 minute. Spread sausage mixture in prepared dish. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.)

Whisk eggs, egg yolks, half and half, whipping cream, 1 1/2 cups cheese, and salt in large bowl to blend well. Pour egg mixture over sausage mixture in dish. Sprinkle remaining 1/2 cup cheese and 2 tablespoons parsley over. Bake until top of casserole is golden brown and knife inserted into center comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Wa-la.

Second recipe...the cinnamon rolls. Never done this before, and trust me, it is easy! A bit of a mess to roll it all out on your countertop, but easy nonetheless.

Cinnabons (so good, why not just call them what they really are)

Ingredients:

For the dough:
1/4 cup warm water
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/2 (3.4 ounce) package instant vanilla pudding mix
1 cup warm milk
1 egg, room temperature
1 tablespoon white sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 cups bread flour
1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast

For the filling:

1/4 cup butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar

4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3/4 cup chopped pecans (I omitted these)

For the icing:

1/2 (8 ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 cup confectioners' sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons milk

In the pan of your bread machine, combine water, melted butter, vanilla pudding, warm milk, egg, 1 tablespoon sugar, salt, bread flour and yeast. Set machine to Dough cycle; press Start.

(FYI: my machine took 1.5 hours to do this).

When Dough cycle has finished, turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and roll into a 17x10 inch rectangle. Spread with softened butter. In a small bowl, stir together brown sugar, cinnamon and pecans. Sprinkle brown sugar mixture over dough. Note here: I doubled the filling amounts...butter, brown sugar and cinnamon x 2.

Roll up dough, beginning with long side. Slice into 16 one inch slices and place in 9x13 buttered pan. Let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 45 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Another note (per a review on the website: I rolled them, sliced them and popped them in the fridge over night. Then I let them rise for 45 minutes out of the fridge before I baked them. I'm just saying, you have options).

Bake in preheated oven for 15 to 20 minutes. While rolls bake, stir together cream cheese, softened butter, confectioners' sugar, vanilla and milk. Remove rolls from oven and top with frosting.

There you have it...two winners. I'm not really an expert in breakfast food, so I'm feeling pretty good that I have found two great recipes for the arsenal. The banana crumb muffins were good too, but in the interests of your time and attention spans, I'll keep it at 2 recipes today and share that one later. Or just let me know if you want it, and I'll email it to you.

They were massive.

A few things I learned today.

There are no pain receptors in your adenoids. So go ahead and kick me there if you can manage to get your shoe past my nostril.

They no longer give you your tonsils in a jar of fluid when they are removed. Aw, shucks.



A 3-year-old, even under the influence of anesthesia, can hold his pee for over 7 hours.



When your tonsils are removed, your voice changes. DRASTICALLY.

So, by now you have figured out that I learned these random lessons because Little J did, in fact, have his tonsils and adenoids removed today. Oh, and ear tubes put in...for good measure. Poor little man. We've had a lot of surgeries and medical issues as of late, so I hadn't given this so much thought.


And then we started hearing the drill and the warnings today. You know. If he spits up LOTS of blood, bring him back to the ER. He probably won't eat for a week. Give him Tylenol with Codine every 4 hours (waking in the night, even) for 4 days...and DO NOT under any circumstances, think he can handle less. He could start bleeding again in 10 days, when the scabs come off.


Hmmm. This might be a doozie.

So, Little J went off to surgery and we snuggled in to our room at St. Johns. Yet again. This time, our cousin Camille also came to join the party...she was having the exact same procedure, done by the exact same doctor, just 3 hours later.

And an hour after Little J left us, our doc came in to say he was tonsil/adenoid free and resting in recovery. Here's where talk of staying the night started to surface, as Little J was having some oxygen issues and a little trouble with a cough. Ugh.



Here is also where we got confirmations that these balls of flesh (is that what they are??) needed to go. Dr. Clary did indeed confirm that both tonsils and adenoids were massive. Here is also where I wish I could see them in a jar...and became secretly proud of my sons large parts.

So, they let me back to recovery, where sweet Little J was out like a light...amidst a room of screaming children. It seems that some kids REALLY do not wake well. Really.


However, it appeared that Little J's low oxygen numbers were due to the fact that he was in a really deep sleep. When we attempted to snap him out of it, he pinked up nicely. And then he stayed wide awake for a couple of hours. Unlike L, who was in a state of drunkenness for quite some time.




He tolerated everything very well. Better than well, or my expectations. He is my most dramatic child, so I figured we were going down the road of whimpering, thrashing and general pitifulness. Nope. Instead he sat wide-eyed, silent and fixated on the television. I was WAY off.


And then he dozed. And drank some apple juice. And some cherry slushie.


And then we noticed his voice. He wasn't speaking much, so it took us a while. But it is higher. Much higher. Cute and kind of squeaky, instead of his previous deep and phlemy.

And 9 hours after our arrival, we were cleared to leave. The last of the tonsil/adenoid kids to make a break for it. Out of St. Johns (to which he yelled a hearty good-bye to the fishes in the waiting room...in that new, uber-cute, upper octave voice).



Waffles and ice cream for dinner. Yum. Except the non-patient children threw a fit, because ice cream does not go on waffles. They want syrup.

BUT WE'RE GIVING YOU ICE CREAM! FOR DINNER! NO VEGETABLES! ICE CREAM! And not even ice cream that's hiding some sort of healthy vegetable puree. Just ice cream!!



This may also be where we learned that our children need a few exercises in operating outside of the proverbial box.

Books were read, puzzles were done. More cute laughs over his new little voice. All surgeries over and done with.

The End.

Timeline.

Here is my dinner party timeline. In specifics.

Thursday, 9:00 a.m.: Decide on menu. Which included LOTS of Internet research. How did people exist without the Web???

Once menu was decided, I hit the ground running to pick up supplies. Stops included Walmart for decor-related items, and Sam's Club for 36 eggs.

Thursday, 1:00 p.m.: A run to Dierberg's for all items not purchased at Sam's. This trip entails dragging three children with me (picture to document).

Thursday, 3:00 p.m.: Time to get serious about cleaning. This picture shows you the state of my kitchen, as it usually looks most afternoons. At this point, I am cleaning the kitchen only to re-dirty it SEVERAL more times before our dinner party. How to clean a kitchen and keep it clean is one of the great mysteries of the world, and perhaps a question for Jesus.

Thursday, 4:00 p.m.: Sausage base for one casserole is made, and the bread machine is emerging from our pantry floor for the first time in 8.5 years.

Thursday, 4:30 p.m.: Cinnamon rolls...in the making. And all I can say is, oh mama.

Thursday, 9:00 p.m.: Second batch of cinnamon rolls begins. Because after seeing 1st batch, I realize that 16 rolls will not cut it.

Friday, 6:20 a.m.: Go running, knowing 13,000 calories will be consumed today in cinnamon rolls alone. Mike gets our tables set up.

Friday, 10:00 a.m.: Run to farmers market for prime fruit picking.

Friday, 10:30 a.m.: Run to Walmart for last minute table decor idea.

Friday, 11:00 a.m.: Run to Dierberg's for orange juice.

Friday, 1:30 p.m.: Nap time for kids...game on. Tables set. Bathrooms cleaned (NO purpose in doing this before children are down for naps...that ups the chances/universal odds of pee spillage on the floor). Floors swept and mopped. Brief rest to watch Jon & Kate Plus 8 while floors dry. Plant flowers in large planter for table centerpiece...only to realize I do not like the large planter for the table centerpiece, even with a pretty pink tulle bow on it. Stuff toys in bins.

Friday, 4:00 p.m: Cook! Make banana crumb muffins. Chop fruit. Chop veggies for second egg casserole. Create a timeline for what goes in the oven at what times (this is VERY important for me, as I cannot juggle the times and the math all at once).

Friday, 4:30 p.m.: Mike cuts the grass. The children are up from naps and either playing outside or watching some sort of movie. I think.

Friday, 5:45 p.m.: Send Michael and the kids to McDonald's for dinner. Eliminate the need to clean up dinner dishes AND the potential for up to 4 milk spills. This is key defensive strategy, BUT leaves me a man down to finish details around the house.

Friday, 6:00 p.m.: Start to hyperventilate when I realize I am missing whipping cream. Begin thinking dinner will be served at 9:45 p.m.

Friday, 6:02 p.m.: Mental pep-talk over with, officially back in the game. Take cinnamon rolls out of fridge to rise. Make cinnamon roll icing...oh, it gets even better. Reference timeline and get casseroles in the ovens. Change clothes. Apply deodorant in lieu of shower. Dishes, dishes, dishes.

Friday, 7:05 p.m.: First guests arrive. Wine is served. Life is good.

Friday, 7:35 p.m.: Cinnamon rolls emerge from oven and are iced. I can barely even talk about it.

Friday, 7:45 p.m.: Dinner is served. It is good...thank you allrecipes.com. The cinnamon rolls are like Cinnabon. No joke.

Friday, 11:07 p.m.: Rope swinging from our deck commences. Potential for 911 to be called within minutes.

Friday, 11:12 p.m.: Hitting golf balls with a baseball bat on to the golf course behind our house begins.

Saturday, 1:00 a.m.: Party over. Whoops out of time.

Up next: recipes!!! Oh, and the removal of tonsils from Little J. Tomorrow. Pictures to follow, of course!

Breakfast party for dinner.

My apologies for not posting on Friday. I had all kinds of guilt and issues about it...part of me really thinking none of you would revisit my blog if I, GASP!, failed to post for a day. I'm getting over it. Slowly.

But you'd better leave me a comment to tell me you still love me. Just in case.

However, my reason for absence was totally blog-worthy. It might even be a week of blog-worthy, actually. Because Mike and I threw a dinner party for 5 couples, and that pretty much took ever ounce of my attention on Friday. There were papers to be shoved in drawers, toys to be shoved in bins and clothing (clean and dirty) to be stashed in every open inch of closet space.

We like to entertain. A lot. However, in the recent past, most of our entertaining has been done in a casual, barbecue, pot-luck style. Most times, it involves a lot of people getting together and hanging out. No themes, no decorating.

Friday, however, was more of a sit-down thing. Five couples who don't normally socialize together on weekends...most of us just starting to get to know each other. Not a typical group, is what I'm trying to say. And NONE of what we did was typical or familiar to Mike and I.

But for the purpose of today's blog, I'm going to give you my philosophy on planning a sit-down dinner for 10 people. My point here, being to highlight the hectic/frantic nature of my style of entertaining. I DO NOT do this perfectly. That is not my intention. I DO NOT have a proven formula for entertaining success. I DO NOT breeze through planning and preparing without breaking a sweat or teetering on the edge of nervous hysteria (every time).

But I do love people. I like being around them, and talking to them and making new friends. And so the chaos, to me, is worth it.

This is the point: entertaining is work, and it does mean putting yourself out there a little bit. Wondering if anyone will notice or care that there are finger prints ALL OVER the glass windows. Or caked-on food lingering on our kitchen chairs. Or if anyone will have pet allergies severe enough to notice that I don't sweep the floor everyday (or, not even close to everyday). And what if someone stumbles upon my basement. Egad.

The truth to all that craziness is that it just doesn't matter. I try to tell myself that dried boogers on my children's bedroom walls are a quality that endears me to others.

I know lots of you who like the idea of entertaining, but not the craziness of cleaning and sterilizing your houses to the standards of a hospital operating room. To which, I say, pick your battles. You do not need to refold your entire linen closet in order to have people over for dinner, is all I'm saying.

So our idea for dinner was to do breakfast. Breakfast for dinner. Which happens to be a favorite of ours, but was quite a gamble for a group. But so what? We're going with it in fun. And that's my other point, I think.

SO WHAT? So what if the house isn't perfect and there is junk shoved in every corner and someone doesn't particularly care for what's on the menu? It's okay. Fun can only be had when we're okay with being imperfect. Because I have seen the price of trying to be perfect--mainly, the stress, the bad attitude and ultimately the defeat of failure--and that is a recipe for disaster when it comes to entertaining people. Do what you can and ENJOY it...or no one else will.

We like to be different, hence the breakfast idea. It also happened to be a great idea for cooking in advance. On the menu: two different kinds of breakfast casserole, homemade cinnamon rolls, banana crumb muffins and fruit salad. All easily preparable in advance, as we did not want to be grilling or preparing anything while our friends were here. Also a note--I have made NONE of the recipes before (aside from fruit salad, that is). So when I say "So What?"...I really mean it.

Our guests arrived at 7:00 p.m.. We were mostly ready. We ate around 7:45 p.m....talked for what seemed like 10 minutes (but was probably more in the range of 2.5 hours). I almost set the house on fire trying to extinguish an over zealous candle. Moved the party out back. Here is where baseball bats, golf balls and rope swings come in to play.

And before you know it, it was 1 a.m.

And we had a great time.

And I don't think anyone really noticed that the paint on our moldings is chipping. Or my desk was all kinds of cluttered. Or our microwave was decorated in caked-on goodness. At least they were kind enough not to bring it up. People are really awesome that way.

Up next this week--deconstructing the dinner party. My timeline. The menu (these recipes were AWESOME). The table. What works. What doesn't. Stay tuned.

Not so much green. More like yellow with a slight tint.

We went green with our greens tonight. I think.

Dinner for Mike and I consisted of lettuce grown from a garden. Not our garden, mind you, but A garden. And why that is better for us or the environment, I'm not sure...but it sure seems eco-friendly and farmer-like and very prairie-esque. I'm going to put it out there that I am more into the retro-ness of it all than anything else.

And so we paired our organic greens with corn from a can, tomatoes, some avocado...all of which, I'm sure is flavored with our favorite pesticides and chemicals. But we've got one ingredient right...I consider that a big step for mankind.

Perhaps one day soon I will go on full disclosure regarding recycling. Which we fail to do.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I had a conversation a few days ago with friends, on this very issue--and I'll have you know I am not the only earth-hater who fails to recycle in this day and age. Hey! I would LOVE to be cute and eco-friendly! I would LOVE to carry those sweet reusable bags (possibly with a monogram) to the grocery store. But I still need plastic, dolphin-killing, bags...they are, in fact, tied to my ability to be a socially acceptable human being. I have children who poop in diapers (putting yet ANOTHER nail in the planet's coffin, I get it)...and plastic bags are somewhat necessary for their disposal.

Why, you say? Why not just throw the diaper out?

BECAUSE I AM LAZY! And while I have all the best of intentions, carrying the diapers to the outdoor trash can would last exactly one day, until I gave up and just started throwing smelly diapers in the indoor trash can, which would inevitably end with the entire house smelling like...crap. No thanks, and sorry dolphins. Maybe next year.

For now, I garden.

I've mentioned my disability when it comes to gardening. But I think this is going to be my year. I've planted begonias and vincas for color...and may I introduce the beginnings of my vegetable garden! This year it's tomatoes and green peppers in pots...but my imagination is great and my ability to exercise self control is non-existent. So expect big, frustrating, humorous things in 2010....

And what do you know--that bell pepper has actually sprung some new leaves. It's still alive and (possibly) growing. I'm not sure I've ever seen that. And if you are wondering why there's a wire cone around it, I thought it looked like a good idea. I'm winging it here. And my favorite past time is walking into the Walmart gardening section, and PRETENDING I know what I'm doing. Because I really don't.

One last earth related item to share--late today, a homeless toad was given a good (and colorful) home. Well, it's possible he had a home, and he was just complying in a way that a hostage would respond to it's captor...but nonetheless, he gave us our photo op, and that's all we were really after.

Have you saved a tree, or housed a toad today? Eaten chemical free greens or made a dress out of old paper? What shade of green are you?

Scavenger Hunt Clue!

Scavenger Hunters!!!

Whoops! I forgot the drycleaning!
What a ditz I am!
Since you’re out, can you pick it up for us?
Would you be a lamb?

This spot is near a Starbucks,
And a man on a big fat steed.
You’ll find them somewhere near downtown Clayton,
Hurry there with tip top speed.

You’ll need a name to claim your clue
Someone who would diagnose you when you’re queasy
If you’re up on T.V. doctors,
This next part should be easy….



I was a single mother last night. I'm not saying this to complain, but more to explain why I have no great pictures of my latest creation. Because this thing requires a model more than 48 inches tall, and last night, that meant me...but since I am also the photographer, you see my dilemma.

Here's what you get.

Any guesses?

Why not wait until Mike got home and post this on another day? Mainly because this item is functional during bathtime, which was last night. So I really wanted to use it and not just fake model it. And even though you'll never know it (because the pictures just don't exist), I was fierce. And I rocked my towel apron.

That's right, I said towel apron.

Because I LOVE aprons. But I never wear them. I think they are cute and fun and totally girly...but I just don't see the point, when, on any given day, I am in fact wearing something that is: 1) wrinkled; 2) already stained with either food or snot, or 3) made of sweatpant material. Honestly, who needs to protect clothing that looks so bad to begin with????

But bathtime, that's a whole 'nother issue. I saw a picture on Design Mom of a woman wearing an apron (pretty, kitchen variety) while bathing her kids. An apron! Genius! Maybe some (or all) of you out there have already figured this out, but I am a little slow. Especially when it comes to all things practical.

At the end of my children's bath time, I am usually soaked. They splash. I wash them and don't know what to do with my wet hands. They crawl out of the tub, only to paw me with wet hands and hair and feet. Or, I give them a shower and the water just sprays all over me. I've tried every scenario--and they all point to wet.

Until I rocked my hot towel apron. And while, yes, I know this could be made a lot cuter, I was shooting for two main objectives: quickness and effectiveness. I literally bought a towel at Wal-mart for $2.50...doesn't get cheaper than that, folks. I sewed a seam up top and pulled the threads to ruffle the top. Then I took the polka-dot fabric, cut a long strip (which I folded and ironed in half), and attached it to the towel to make the waist band (which ties in the back). SIMPLE!!! I promise to post a more formal tutorial someday soon, when I try this again...my first attempt wasn't perfect, but I'm on to something, I think!

And let me tell you, it worked brilliantly last night at bathtime.

Packed up and ready for a party.

It's the kind of weather that inspires spontaneity. Or total craziness.

In St. Louis, for the past couple of weeks (who's counting, really?), the weather has been fantastic. We have enjoyed the presence of spring, and I must say...I LIKE it. 'Round these parts in years past, spring has consisted of the 8 hour time period passing between an icy front and a heat wave.

Not kidding.

We rarely get prolonged bouts of high seventy degree/not-a-cloud-in-the-sky sunny days. Days that scream for a picnic at a favorite sculpture park. With bikes. Lord, help us.

I would say that fun was had for 1 hour and 15 minutes. And that's when Little J hit his limit, at our furthest point from the car, mind you. So I sent the other two flying down a massive hill on their bikes, while I tried to tame a meltdown.

Impossible.

Instead, I settled on carrying the Big wheel (complete with vroom-vroom sound effects...sweet) and playing reverse psychology on the three-year-old. Because nothing gets that one moving like the threat of being left in the sculpture park. So he followed, screaming, for the 10 minutes back to the car. Lovely for the other picnic-ers, who no-doubt, thought I was a neglectful mother.

Little did they know how heavy a Big Wheel can get WHEN CARRIED FOR 10 MINUTES. Accompanied by the rather large bag/picnic basket/piece of luggage. Nor, did they give me the benefit of the doubt, I'm sure, as the kind of mom who packs a picnic, a quilt and bikes for the pleasure of her three young children. Who are so OBVIOUSLY loving life, as witnessed by the giant tears, loud wailing and general red/puffiness.

All in all, a successful outing, as 90% of it was enjoyable. I share the downfall of the afternoon, because that is what happens. Some days it happens with much greater frequency...we call those days attitude failures. Other days they handle being overstimulated just fine....we call that perfection. But most often, we have an isolated (still difficult, but short-lived) catastrophe.

I want perfect sunny days to be...perfect. And easy. But we're just not there. It's like looking at a picture of yourself on spring break in college and thinking those were the easiest, skinniest days of your life. But they weren't...not then. Back then 118 pounds was still not bikini-worthy.

The truth is, it took me over an hour to adequately prepare for our outing today. The sandwiches, the juice boxes, the treats, the napkins, the wet wipes. It takes work, even before the event itself has even begun. I wish it was as easy as it looks...but it's not.


This mommy job is the hardest gig on the planet. But still so worth it...even when I had to single-handedly drag my enormously large and overly prepared bag, along with a Big Wheel and a screaming toddler back to our mini (van). Gotta love it.

Happy Birthday Becky!

This rock star turned 30 today...the big 3-0. And I just love her to death. She is one of my favorite people and best friends in the entire world. And because she is just that awesome, I will forgive her for being 3 years younger than me.

So Becky had a pretty rockin' birthday party on Saturday. And I say rockin', because there was karaoke involved. Not for me (noooooooo way), but for everyone else. At some point my husband even graced us with a version of Snoop Dogg's "Drop it like it's hot". Wow.


But today was her actual birthday. And 30 is a pretty big one. So I came up with the BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER! Free childcare while she had a great lunch with her sisters. Because, who doesn't want to take a shower and have a meal other than some combination of artificial cheese product/peanut butter/yogurt on their birthday????


And before you go thinking I'm some kind of saint, let me remind you that I do have 4 kids. This is my job. If it wasn't Becky's birthday, I would still be having some combination of artificial cheese product/peanut butter/yogurt for lunch. Regular day for me. Big fun day for Becky!


So she hasn't seen these, but we had lots of fun!!!

(yes ladies, he is single!!)

And of course I had to make a cake. But not just any old cake...a cake after my own heart (and Becky's). Because one of the reasons I love this gal so much, is that she will always have a diet coke with me. May I present, the Diet Coke cake:




So while I had Phoebe, Karlee and their cousin Mia here today, I asked the girls what they loved about their mom/aunt. And then I simply recorded their reasons on small slips of paper, which I then tied to every can. BTW, this is a great, easy and personal idea for any occasion...my personal favorite is to write little notes on golf balls...that makes a really great father's day gift!!



Anyway, last step was to arrange the cans in the shape of a tiered cake (kind of tricky, let me warn you)...and ta-da! A cake that will keep indefinitely, and one that is ZERO calories per serving. I think I might be a genius. Plus Becky gets to be reminded daily (okay, maybe several times a day), why her girls and her best friend love her so much!!

Happy 30th Becky!!!!