Bring Home the Bacon

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Have you ever noticed that certain foods make your house reek? I mean for days after and despite much work, your house, clothes and even your dishes smell like the meal. Like when my family makes Cincinnati Chili – one of the greatest things you’ll ever eat. You have to reeeally like it because you’re going to smell like it for a week!

We had this issue this weekend. My lovely husband is an amazing cook. He can make something out of nothing and it’s delicious. He looks in the fridge and sees that we have leftover chicken, a lime and some milk and out comes tequila lime chicken. I am the opposite – I need all ingredients in front of me before I can cook. Anyway, we were at the grocery on Saturday and they had beautiful heirloom tomatoes – you know the kind that are funky shapes and color and are delicious. I’m not sure they are really that better than any other tomatoes, but you think they are because they are so cool.

Peter proceeded to make one of the most amazing BLT sandwiches I’ve ever had – the tomatoes were the same size as a slice of bread so it all stayed together,  the bacon wasn’t over cooked and the bread was just right. That said, I realized about an hour after eating that it still smelled like bacon in our house. Our back door is always open so I opened a few more doors, cleaned the kitchen and lit a candle to help the smell. After taking the trash out a few hours later, I was smacked in the face with the smell of bacon upon entering the house. By then it was hot so we closed all the doors and I lit one more candle hoping their scent would overpower the bacon.

I thought I had won, but that night sitting at mass, it occurred to me that we had the smell of bacon wafting off of us like in a cartoon. People were drooling around us and stray dogs were following us the smell was so strong. After dinner, we realized our house smelled like bacon and Aveda candles – odd combo. Our pillows smelled like bacon, our laundry smelled like bacon and our couch smelled like bacon. After a small breakdown, I looked to peter for some reassurance that our house would not smell like cured meat forever – his response? “Mmmh, bacon scented pillows. I’ll be having savory dreams tonight!”.

He’s so much help!

Shopping Jackpot

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It always seems like shopping is hit or miss. You either find a thousand things that you love but can’t afford or don’t need – or your desperate for an article of clothing and would pay any price and it’s nowhere to be found. I had the former shopping experience last Friday (except it was all affordable!) – I should have gone and bought a lottery ticket because I for sure would have won!

The luck started out at Victoria’s Secret. As any girl will tell you, bra shopping sucks. No one likes it and if they do, they are lying. As soon as you have a style you like, it’s discontinued. Just when you know your size, some woman gets in your personal space with a tape measure and tell you that you’re wrong and you begin to doubt yourself. The worst is there are only two extremes for stores that sell bras: you either get Victoria’s Secret with about thirty 20 somethings running around with more makeup on their faces than brains in their heads OR the old lady shop, where the woman who looks like your grandma, is trying to sell you something that looks like it belongs on a nun from 1820.

Sooo, I was obviously less than enthused about the trip and when the second sales twit bumped into me, I almost left – thankfully, I stuck it out. I got a rewards coupon in the mail from buying something on-line recently. It was good for at least $10 off any bra BUT could be worth up to $100, but you had to go to the store to find out. It turns out, mine was worth $50 and thus paid for my entire order. Plus I have $15 left over on a gift card!

Next I headed to Aveda. They have some dumb rewards program where you get points for purchases that can be redeemed for products on their rewards web site. Except that everything on their rewards site sucks.  Now there is a new policy where you can redeem your points for candles in the store! I love their candles and the one I got was free!

Next I headed to Mecca, I mean Nordstrom. I had a few things from Clinique that I needed and, miracles of miracles, they had all the things I needed in stock AND in the colors I wanted. Haleluia chorus! Now if they had just had a gift with purchase, I would have been sure I was being set up somehow…

Lastly, I went to the shoe department. As several of you know, I have what Peter affectionately call skis, for feet. I.E. they are huge. I wear and 11 and I’m ignoring the fact that all my shoes feel a little small after having Baylie (I’m ignoring that wives tale, thank you very much) and finding the shoe in the style, color and size I’m looking for seems to be impossible lately. I happened to get the one sales lady that also wears and 11 (I just love when the chick helping you wears a size 6 and does not understand that when you said 11, you didn’t mean 9 1/2). I found a sandal that I liked and a color that was ok. She brought me more than one style to try on as they usually do at Nordies, and the alternative to what I had picked was a size 11 and in the color I really wanted but was not on display. And the really really good part? They were $40!! JACKPOT!!!

So I think this might mean that I’m destined to have terrible shopping experiences going forward – but I’ll look gooood in the process!

Rock A Bye Sweet Baby Bay

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Ah, Ms.Baylie, the source of some of my best blogs!

Everyone in this house has a freaking special diet – even the dogs. They are 11 and one is fat and one is skinny. Obviously the fat one eats the skinny one’s food and thus the cycle continues. It’s not just that Bear will eat Travis’ food, Travis won’t eat his own food unless it’s been spiced up a little. Some ground beef (yes yes, I know) a little water and sometimes salt (he has kidney issues people!) are what it takes to get him to eat. Because I make it so tasty, of course Fat Boy wants to get at his brother’s bowl even more so Bear has to sit in his crate until Travis finishes his food. This week while sitting in his crate, Baylie decided to join him by sitting in Travis’ crate. It might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen – her little smile while banging on the sides of the crate trying to get Bear’s attention, she was just so happy to be one of the dogs!

My sister and I grew up knowing that The Big Red Machine was one of the greatest teams of all time. The 1969 Cincinnati Reds had a starting line up that included the great Pete Rose (my mom still judges a person’s character by whether or not they think Rose belongs in the Baseball Hall of Fame – the answer is YES if you want her to like you) and Dave Concepción. Concepción made the quote “Baseball been very very good to me” famous. So to continue the tradition, I am working on teaching Baylie this all important quote. After reciting it to her, Peter asked her “Who said it Bay?” and I helped her by replying that it was Concepción of course! Then Peter asked what his first name was and Baylie promptly replied “Dada!”. So Dave Concepción will now be known by his new name in our house: Dada Concepción.

Last Friday Bay demonstrated her very funny, yet slightly evil sense of humor. She was cruising around the living room and offering her pacifier to me, the dog and Grandma, a favorite game of hers. She gives it to you and you take a hit, you then you give it back and she takes it smiling and moves on to the next person. As she cruised towards me, she reached out her chubby little hand with the slobbery pacifier to me. Just as I was about to take it, she yanked her hand back, put the pacifier in her mouth and laughing and smiling shook her head “no”. She repeated this three more times, each time squealing with laughter as she pulled her hand back! I’m a little concerned that she has this much of a sense of humor at 10 months…

Baylie says “Psych!”

Churchy Church Church

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While Peter and I would like to be able to pay closer attention at mass on Sundays, I’m not sure that’s going to be a reality for the next few years. But I feel that we earn points and fulfill our obligation by just being there, even if we have no idea what is going on.

I’m not sure how she does it, but Baylie can make any toy loud. Little plastic links make a ruckus when they are thrown violently against the pew. Stuffed animals make no noise, but when you are talking to them, people tend to notice. And books should be silent, but when they are banged against the song books or smacked against someone’s head they are a bit noisy.

The thing is Bay isn’t being bad, she’s just 10 months old and this is her normal behavior. She’s not screaming because she’s upset, she’s doing her signature “Hey! I’m talking to you! Look at me!” pterodactyl (yes, that’s actually how it’s spelled) like screech. We try very hard to make sure that she’s being quietly entertained and when she gets screamy one of us takes her to the back where she’s not as easily heard. What really bugs me though is when we get the stare down from the people around us. Now, we get there early to get a seat in the last row so that we can exit easily. I want to tell these people that we were here first, if you don’t like babies don’t sit near me and go to the non-children’s mass.

The worst are the people who let their kids bring loud toys to mass – what are you thinking?! This is not ok – no one is expecting your kid to be perfect, but are you really going to give him something that will make MORE noise than just his mouth?! Again, my child is not perfect either, but I at least make an attempt to keep her quiet. The dirty stares should be saved for these parents!

Baylie’s crowning moment this weekend was when she finished her bottle and then proceeded to let out a burp worthy of a frat boy. She then followed that up by blowing raspberries (you know, when your lips are puckered and you make that funny noise by blowing through them) at Peter and I. He had to take her out because it was making me laugh – she makes the funniest face when she does it!

Can I get an AAAAAAAMMMMMEEEEENNNNN!!

If you don’t drink, the terrorist win

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I dedicate this post to my good friend and sorority sister, Melissa for making the phrase “I’m such a good dancer right now!” famous (with us anyway). I have also confessed this story to my mom who now thinks it’s hilarious so it’s ok to tell.

The year, 2001. The place, Tucson Arizona. The setting, a month or so after September 11th and living in the Phi. The problem, Tucson journalist trying to freak people out.

After September 11th, the Tucson news kept telling people that Tucson was a potential major target for terrorist because the Raytheon missal manufacturing company was based somewhere just outside of T-town. Which to a bunch of sorority girls means we were all totally freaked. After telling my mom this, she gave me a substantial amount of cash. This was emergency cash and was going to be money to get out of Tucson should something terrible happen. If you’ll remember, we were told that ATMs wouldn’t work, air travel would be stopped and you would be stuck in whatever city you were in should there be a chemical or any other kind of attack.

The money stayed safely hidden in my room (read closet – as in our shared rooms were the size of most people’s walk in closets because we all slept in another room – it’s weird, just go with it) for several months. When it became apparent in in early 2002 that we probably weren’t all going to die a horrible death, I dipped into what I dubbed the Terrorist Fund to finance a new outfit for a date dash and some drinks at said date dash. By May, I, like most of my friends was broke and was in need of some cash for the famous Alpha Phi Luau. Luau, or Wai Ki Phi as it was called that year, is a two day party. It starts with a Friday night date dash and goes into a Saturday pool party. I decided that once again, I’d dip into the TF so that we could have a good time.

The date dash that night was at an establishment famous in Tucson called the No Tell Motel. I wish I were kidding. Thankfully, there were Jello shots going around so after a few minutes, you forgot about what a fine place we were in. After a few rounds of grape shots (never, never again), I started buying rounds of shots for all my friends on the TF – and announced that we were drinking on the Terrorist Fund which got many cheers. Awhile later we were dancing on the packed dance floor and I coined the now famous quote “I’m such a good dancer right now!!”. My buddy Melissa was quick to pull out her phone and leave herself a voicemail with me reciting my new favorite line.

The next day as we were all hanging (and by hanging I mean hanging over, not actually hanging) on the couches waiting for the bus to take us to the next round of drunken debauchery when Melissa decided to call her voice mail. She instantly burst out laughing and put the message on speaker so we could all listen.  I’ve still not lived this down – in seeing Melissa recently, she asked “does Baylie know what a good dancer you are?”.

Sittin’ on the dock of the Bay

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Time for your favorite post: “What’s Baylie Up To?”!

Baylie is anything but boring these days. She’s constantly coming up with new ways to entertain herself, most of which give me a heart attack. Yesterday afternoon I tossed her in the pack-n-play and ran to the bathroom. She suddenly discovered that throwing the toys out of the pack-n-play is an amazing game – and an awesome way to get me to come running. I caught her mid throw – she had a shape sorter behind her head and was ready to launch looking quite pleased with herself. I’m thinking she’s somehow gotten herself out of the thing and has done some horrible damage to her head, only to find it was the ring toss game that had met with the floor instead of her head, thankfully.

It’s going to sound like the kid spends a lot of time in her crib when I tell you this next one, but I swear, she’s in there maybe a total of 40 minutes across the entire day! We started when she was small and now she will sit and play in her crib and listen to Baby Einstein music for about 20 minutes at a time. And any mom will tell you, 20 minutes of quiet time exclusive from nap time are golden. Usually Baylie will “read” her picture books (which might be the cutest stinking thing I’ve ever seen) and talk and bang stuff against the railings – but I found her a few weeks ago eating her crib. Not chewing it, EATING IT. There are literally grooves where here little teeth have scraped the paint away and made indentations like a rabbit or a horse or something. What is interesting is this is apparently genetic as I ate my crib –  her crib however is brand new and painted with non-toxic paint where as I probably ingested a few pounds of lead (explains a lot, I know). Thankfully there are other strange kids out there so they make a gummy cover so she can chew away without damaging her teeth or ingesting paint. But the little stinker out smarted me and has moved on to the side railings, not just the front one so it’s back to Buy Buy Baby for more!

Baylie has also figured out how to remove the child locks from the cabinets in her room. They are like a U shape and open on one end where a piece fits on and they go around the knobs thus keeping it closed. Apparently the kid has tickets to the gun show because she can strong arm the things right off. She’s gotten so good at it that it takes her less than 30 seconds to get it off. She then sits with it and chews on the device…so I guess it does baby proof the cabinet because she doesn’t go into it.

Also, her new word is saying Bear the dog’s name. I couldn’t figure it out, but finally it dawned on me because she says it a lot when she’s in her high chair. Why? Because he sits under it waiting for her to drop down some goodies. Thankfully for her, he’ll eat fruit or veggies or whatever. Sad for him is that those are the only things she’s willing to part with – cereal and cheese get double fisted into her little mouth, not one little drop makes it to the floor to her buddy! But if you listen you can hear her softly saying Bear – it comes out a little like “wear” but he gets it and comes running to see what the day’s offering is.

As predicted, she does love the pool. We’ve been three times in the last week and she’s gone from clinging to me to floating in her raft to getting dunked. She is dying to play with the other kids there – usually her favorite cousin Madi is there and willing to splash with her and she was truly missing her yesterday. She floated in her raft looking longingly at the big kids – but that looked changed when she got dunked. I won’t go as far as saying she liked it, but she didn’t cry so I think that’s a plus. She is under for less than a second but the face might be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Her eyes are about as big as they will get and her mouth is about as small as it will get and you can tell she’s not really sure what to think! I’m predicting she’ll be jumping off the side into my arms in about a month 🙂

Money Saving Tips

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I’m still new at this posting stuff – I thought this went up last week, but apparently not!

Since everyone is cutting back, I thought I would offer a few money-saving tips that I use in my every day life. Most of the things I buy at the grocery store don’t get coupons (organic spinach? no coupon. and I don’t buy spam so I’m out…) so I’ve had to get creative…

1. When your mom says she bought a 10 pack of socks from Costco and she doesn’t like them, offer to take them off her hands.

2. Buy your kiddo’s clothes at Costco and claim they came from a very expensive boutique called Cost’co (I’ve actually gotten away with this one. Not that I have any problems with Costco, it’s just more fun the other way).

3. If you’re like most girls, you have an entire cabinet or basket or storage tub or whatever filled with samples and half used bottles of lotion, shampoo and body wash. Use them up by mixing them together and coming up with some shnazzy new combos.

4. When you go to get your teeth cleaned at the dentist, make up the fact that you have in addition to your husband, a grown child so you can get extra free toothbrushes, toothpaste and floss.

5. The one thing I do use coupons for religiously is diapers. I will make 4 separate purchases at Babies R Us to use the diaper coupons. Generally the checker gives up after the second one and just overrides the transaction so I can use all the coupons. I also beg and plead to use the expired ones!

6. Eat all the frozen food in your freezer. Pull out the crazy things that you have forgotten about and make something delicious and possibly strange with the stuff that’s been in there. I still have turkey from when Baylie was born last year…I’m afraid to use it or throw it away.

7. Switch to all knock off brands – but be sure to check the product out first. I just bought the CVS version of the Neutrogena sunscreen that I use and instead of smelling slightly of orange blossom and typical sunscreen, it smells like cloves. Not kidding. It’s weird. But I’m cheap so I’m using it!

8. Have a garage sale – it’s amazing what you have in your closet and cabinets that you don’t use. But do the cleaning out when your spouse is not home. I have been trying to get rid of the same damn elk themed blanket forever and Peter keeps brining it back.

9. Use gift cards. We have a drawer full of gift cards from Christmas, birthdays, etc. But we always forget we have them so I’ve made a point to carry about 20 with me at all times and then systematically check them while at the cashier. They love it, I’m sure. I also had to explain that I had 2 half used gift cards to the Pizza Hut guy the other night. It was  not pretty…

10. Lastly – get pregnant, gain 40 lbs, don’t wear your wardrobe for a year, loose the 40 lbs and it’s like you have an entire new closet!

Happy saving!

What the what?

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I’ve never fully understood personalized license plates. It always seems like a lot of time and energy to make them funny or even spell them so someone could realize what you were trying to say in 6 letters or less. Some are worth the effort, most are not and some that make absolutely no sense.

The good ones are few and far between – the best example is my neighbor up the street with a Mini Cooper that has a plate that says “XXSML”. Kind of cute, a lot of work for a little bang, but kind of cute. Aaanndd I’m out of good examples.

Our other neighbor has one that says “BIGTED”. Now if you’re me,  you are thinking the guy hates minorities, when in reality his name is Ted and he’s of a large stature. This would go in the bad category because somewhere out there someone is going to key his SUV before they realize that the guy’s name is Ted. I saw one a few weeks ago that said “3W1DNA”. I’ll give you a hint, I was in Gilbert and it’s a minivan….give up? It’s triplets – three with one dna. I didn’t say it was good, I was just excited that I figured it out.

There was a car parked down the street from our house last weekend – a bright orange off road looking jeep with no windows. It also had tiger stripes painted on it and “Prozac Racing” sticker on the windshield. Of course, it had a personalized plate. It said “MENTAL”. Like we needed it spelled out for us – the feline stripes weren’t enough of a giveaway, thanks buddy.

My favorite was going to church last weekend. There is a mortuary next door and in the parking lot was a truck with a license plate that said “OBTURY” or Obituary. I find this hilarious. I like that the person dealing with death all day has a sense of humor – as long as he doesn’t decide to make all the dead people smile, I’m good with it.

Lastly, I saw a relatively reasonably priced sports car last week with a plate that said “XPNSVE”. Actually, you’re car is not expensive, so what is expensive? Your bad extensions? The cost to buy you a decent sense of humor? Or your hourly rates? Please clarify.

So much like one’s facebook status, I think personalized plates should be run by a minimum of 15 people. If half or less don’t get it, it’s bad. If you get pity laughs, don’t do it. And if they just smile nicely and back slowly towards the exit, just take what the DMV gives you and be happy.

Peace be with you

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Aaaahhh, Easter. The weather is beautiful, the kids are all dressed up and all the people who never go to church decide to show up and take my seat.

No, I’m not judging. If they choose to be a bad Catholic and only show up on Christmas and Easter, that’s between them and God. However, I am pissed that I showed up 20 minutes EARLY for mass (which is like pulling the pin on a grenade with a 10 month old) only to find this person has taken my usual seat and now we have to go to the overflow mass in the gym. The priest there can’t annunciate and the microphone is like some mythical creature he doesn’t understand and the acoustics are atrocious so it’s like listening to the teacher from the Peanuts cartoon; “Wahwah wahwah mwah wah”. Shoot me.

I’m not sure what it is about holidays either that makes people wear really inappropriate things to church just because they would consider them “dressy”. Someone needs to explain that “dressy” for a Friday night out and “dressy” for Sunday morning church are two very distinctive things. As Jimmy Buffet says “There’s a fine line between Saturday night and Sunday morning” and same goes for the clothing. Among the list of things I found to be unacceptable was a strapless, ass short, leopard print dress on a 16 year old. More importantly, I found the fact that her parents let her out of the house in it interesting.

The straw that broke the camel’s back for me came while Baylie and I were in the back of church. She was being chatty (for some reason this makes her quiet, but standing at our seat makes her want to narrate for us). There was a family of what I assume was grandma, mom, 11 year old son and 13 year old daughter dressed like she was 22. She was wearing a strapless, short yellow dress, 4 inch heals to match and bangs swept across her forehead that originated at her opposite ear so that she had to keep her head tilted to one side in order to keep them in place (not kidding). I happened to look over and see, at one point, her texting on her phone. Now, I’m just as bored as the rest of those there who couldn’t hear and didn’t get a seat in the main church, but TEXTING?? Really?? Is there no decency? I don’t want to be that lady at church, but damn it, that’s not ok. I tried to give the mom a look so she would make it stop and when she didn’t, I had to say something. As nicely as I could I said to the little tartlet that it’s not appropriate to text in mass. And she looked at me and said “uuhh, I wasn’t texting”. Look kid, I’m not your mom and I obviously don’t give a crap if you’re an inconsiderate ahole anywhere else but if you could save the ‘tude for someone who cares and take your hooker heals and phone outside, that’d be great. I got the stare down from her and her parents the rest of mass. I hope her mom’s was out of embarrassment. Peter then informed Baylie that if she ever A. dresses like that or B. acts like that we will move to a remote town in Montana and home school her. She nodded in understanding.

We proceeded to my mom’s house after mass where she had prepared the most amazing brunch with 3 courses and about a hundred dishes and ate like we’d never seen food. I also drank about 5 mimosas (mimosa meaning champagne that sat next to the orange juice on the table so it counts as a mimosa and not just champagne) and fed Bay a big plate of berries which she chowed down. I was a little confused as she might be the fussiest eater in the world and then found out they were sugared within an inch of their little berry lives. Sigh… Happy Easter!

Feel the burn…

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As some of you know, I started to workout with a trainer after Baylie was born. The baby pounds were simply refusing to budge despite my best efforts, so I bought a package of weekly workouts with a trainer named Jen. She has now been abusing me weekly for about 8 months. And oddly enough, I LIKE IT.

I would love to tell you that she’s mean and awful and that she screams and yells at me during workouts – it would make for a better story. unfortunately, it’s much much worse…she’s increadibly NICE. Ridiculously nice. And funny and I want to be her friend and I don’t want her to think that I’m a slacker so I work really hard at our sessions. Instead of saying that I’m slacking off, she’ll say “come on girl, you can do this! You’re working so hard today!”. And I, being the praise lover that I am, work harder.  I generally cannot walk after the amount of lunges and squats that we do – and my triceps literally cry at the meer mention of her name, but I continue on because I want to hear “good job!”.

When I first started working out with Jen, I decided to try her weekly boot camp on top of our regular sessions. I brought my friend Kristin with me to an eight am class in September. Now, it’s still hot in September and I was still in pretty crappy shape with many lb’s to go. So as I’m squat jumping as fast as I can without passing out, Kristin breathless says in between jumps “I want my legs to look like hers so we have to keep moving!!”. This was good inspiration to make it through the workout, however, I decided after that one abuse a week is enough. And did Jen yell? No! We ended up getting together for lunch instead.

Which leads me to another story – Jen and her husband came over for dinner a few months ago. I was very excited, until I realized that I have to serve my trainer dinner and she’s going to be thinking “no wonder those pounds won’t come off!!”. I chickened out of serving pork chops and we had a big salad with chicken instead. I’m sure she and her hubby went home and chowed down on some celery or something, but at least she doesn’t think I eat terribly…or at least that I’m smart enough to hide it when she’s over!

The only really mean thing that Jen does is she gives really awful, cruel and impossible  exercises very cute names. Burpies, ice skaters, hip dips and skull crushers (ok, that one isn’t cute, but it’s a pretty rad name) are all good examples of really hateful things that we do as part of or in between circuits. For example, a burpie: some call it an “up down” but you go from a standing position to a squat, jump back to plank position, jump back to a squat and then standing. Sounds simple enough – but after 3 sets of 20 lunges with 20 pounds of weight, 20 burpies becomes a bit of a challenge.

So now that Baylie is almost 10 months old, I can safely say that I have lost the baby weight, a few “vanity pounds” too and have muscle tone where I didn’t know I had muscles. All thanks to my buddy who I like more and more with each hurting week 🙂