Thursday, August 28, 2014

happy hour

at least Phoebe can say she comes by her resting bitchy face honestly because ... Apple, meet your mother, Tree.

No shame in my grainy selfie shame today. No shame ever, come to think of it.

Diatribe time.

+ Sebastian just confessed, "my pee fell in my shoe!!" then grabbed the plunger to clean it up because mops are extinct around here and day one of potty training is going swimmingly for him. Forgive it! The pun slipped out. Day two will commence sometime in November or December.

+ I let Theo sit in the sink after he enthusiastically nodded in agreement when I said, "but you have to promise not to turn on the water, okay?!" Mothersucker, thy name is Grace.

+ Julia has worriedly confirmed that, "Simon isn't sleeping at work, right?!" multiple times this afternoon because her mom has been a lot of fun today. Don't worry, he's not! Look out for the rapidly approaching "holiday" weekend though .... it's ALL merriment and mom all the time, Little J, because Simon's got a hospital call room with his name all over it. TGIF-bomb. Can't wait.

+ Every four weeks Simon switches rotations and this week he started on a rotation where he gets home an hour later than the previous four weeks and while it's no night float and I should count my lucky minutes for that ... do you know what happens during that extra hour? Time stands very still. And then .... Meltdowns-R-Us. All five of us.

+ And on the fourth evening of the first week I decided to blog about it, whine about it, and talk about it too. Solidarity, I know you're out there and I find comfort in you. And my poetry skillz.

Happy almost Labor Day weekend.
It's coming for you, folks.
It's coming real soon.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Sebastian Says

t-shirt - c/o Gretta's Organic Tees
terrible haircut - c/o his mother
shoes - c/o Minnetonka
pants - H&M via Kidizen

Walking outside yesterday ...
Bash: ah!!! it's so bright!!! so sunny!!
Bash: (runs inside and grabs an old pair of my glasses)
Bash: okay! all better.

Walking by a mirror in Target and seeing his reflection ...
Bash: (face lights up) Hey! Look!
Grace: what is it?
Bash: it's a picture of Bashy!!!!

After a little explanation about the difference between his nipples and his belly button ...
Bash: oh, okay.
Grace: okay.
Bash: So ... (points to his chest) one, two, (points to his belly button) THREE nipples.

After passing a sample tray full of raspberry, grape, and peach juice at Costco ...
Bash: ooooh!! STOP!!! Me LOVE wine. Can Bash have some wine, please?
sample lady:

Waking up to a dressed up Grace on Sunday morning and realizing what that meant ...
Bash: (face falling) oh, NO!!! I don't want to go see Jesus today. 

Wanting to be let out from his locked room after he assumed he was finished with his yet-to-be-seen nap ....
Bash: (bangs on door) DO
Bash: (bangs on door) YOU
Bash: (bangs on door) LOVE
Bash: (bangs on door) Me?!

While playing Julia's favorite game of what rhymes with ________ (this time the word was, "stuck")
Julia: truck! luck! suck! plu-
Bash: (interjects) FOCK!!!!!!

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Holstein Brownies

oh, Grace.

You are reaching new and ghastly lows with your food photography and font choice/placement.

What else is new? Nothing. I think you'll live.

I know the internet is FILLED with gorgeous food and recipe blogs so it's borderline ridiculous that I post anything in the culinary sphere but I promise these are really, really tasty and I would never post anything that I don't think you'll love. These are well worth your time.

So! let's move on. I could've said moo-ve but ... you were spared.

If you've ever had the pleasure of enjoying anything baked by Simon's mom, Ann, you know I don't exaggerate when I say that she is a bakerella/wizard when it comes to baked goods. It's all amazing. All of it. She makes these Holstein brownies a lot when we visit because Simon is a big chocolate person. Let's rephrase that for the grammar fanatics lest they think Simon resembles a human sized chocolate bunny or something ... he enjoys chocolate a lot. If there's a flourless chocolate anything on any menu ever he always chooses that over any other type of sugar. He likes rich chocolate. And these deliver! They are super rich although the holstein splotches do break it up a bit but if you're big on just chocolate you could most certainly make these sans spots. I try to make them for Simon's birthday and our anniversary. Try!

Here we go (I usually cut it in half but really regretted doing so this time because the three older kids LOVED these and they were gobbled up really quickly) ... verbatim from the master herself!


4 ounces bittersweet chocolate
½ stick butter
2 tablespoons strong brewed coffee
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
*5 large eggs
¼ tsp. Salt
¾ cup flour
¼ cup cocoa
1 cup chocolate chips (or heck, a little more)
8 ounces cream cheese, softened

  • Microwave bittersweet chocolate, butter and coffee until melted
  • In a separate bowl mix brown and white sugars, salt and *4 eggs with electric mixer until well blended, add flour, cocoa, and salt
  • Add chocolate mixture
  • Add chocolate chips
  • Pour batter into well-greased 9 x 13 pan (or you can make cupcakes! also delicious!)
  • In another bowl beat together cream cheese and remaining *egg and drop by spoonfuls onto batter, “yep to resemble that holstein.” I also swirl the cream cheese a bit (goodbye holstein!)
  • Bake at 325 for 25-30 minutes


Monday, August 25, 2014

the anatomy of expediency: child style

Almost every morning I wake up to one or more child(ren) crying and immediately and groggily start making plans to do something with said roosters for the sole purpose of getting us out of the house. It's crazy! There's something about being inside with toys and food and each other that seems to encourage and foster a hostile environment littered with fighting and whining and tends to drive a certain child shepherdess insane. My/her plans are usually something simple along the lines of walking to a playground, going to the grocery store for one food item (tortillas and bananas, we always need more of those, it seems) and three free cookie "samples", or going to say hi to Simon if he's free for a few minutes at the hospital. God bless summer, even if it is hotter than a broiler some days. It still trumps the paralyzing cold. Always.

On Wednesday of last week the trip du jour was going to be the playground. The far away playground by the hospital because I was feeling generous and adventurous and there is ample shade and dirt for digging and nary a swing to fight over.

I started getting ready as soon as everyone was awake at 6:58am and made a firm resolve that we would be happily trotting out the door NO later than 9am.


... but everyone is full from first breakfast, second breakfast, and a snack. So, there.

I wrestle the boys into outfits and spend too many minutes looking for matching shoes for Sebastian that don't send him into an emotional tailspin because they, "hurt me feeeeeet!!!!" ...

Julia is obsessed with drawing things or letters on this and then asking us, "is this ..... the letter e?!" or "is this Christmas balls?" (ornaments? yes) or "is this how you spell S for Bash?" etc.

She recently spent a LONG time coloring the ENTIRE screen in and was completely disgusted and exasperated that I couldn't figure out what it was (a baby wipe, duh).

After 99 rounds of toddler Pictionary I try to slip in a selfish little hygiene session by way of some teeth brushing, face washing, and (the vanity!) mascara swiping.

Theo joins and starts signing*, "please" because he is a lover of the forbidden lotions and potions in the bathroom.

*I made this sign up, I think it's actually the sign for "more" but I was tired of his grunting for everything all the time so for some reason I feel better that he does his begging via faux sign. I also made up a motion for, "sorry" but Simon says I can't teach him a fake language so we only do that one in secret. Don't tell.

fine. come join me.

Then we finish that up and I lock the bathroom door from the outside (see here) but Theo sweet-signs Sebastian into sneakily pulling a chair over and unlocking the door ....

wearing Julia's jegging shorts, MUCH to Simon's delight.

I drag him out, relock the door and start the process of deciding if I should go full-exercise-garb-minus-the-exercise mode or try a little bit. I go with a mix.


Giddy with GLEE. Sebastian has wisely retreated to the basement.

Make a note to talk to Simon about how he feels about a chairless existence until the kids turn the age of logical (ever?), feed them a second snack and 89 sips of ice water, and eventually go to check on Grumpy ... who is oh so patiently waiting to get the show on the road ...

wearing her playground bow.

break up five consecutive fights between Julia and Sebastian, talk Julia off a ledge when she can't find the whisk she's taken to sleeping with under her pillow, and change Theo's bomb.

And she's still waiting ...

search high and low for the baby wipes, ANY pair of sunglasses (broken or not), my phone that is in my hand, and seriously, where are the wipes?!

In the mean time she's become mobile ...

And finally reaches the end of her long and virtuous rope.

Find the big kids using the rubber strip meant to go under the front door as a race track of some sort ...

And remember I was going to put those diapers away. So I do. And then feed them a third snack/small lunch to get us through our imminent sojourn and consider scrapping the whole trip because we have been working toward departure for well over five hours and I really like to get the kids all tucked in for naps right around one but I persevere ...

for a 20 minute drive, an 18 minute prize, and a 20 minute drive home where Theo enjoyed a four minute power nap that he assumed counted for his three hour soul-saving siesta (no, never).

I don't remember how I ever got Julia and Sebastian to preschool before noon but we still have two (WHAT) more weeks to practice because apparently their school enjoys eternal summers of parental torture (JK! if her wonderful teachers happen to be reading this - doubtful as that may be).

The end. 
Until tomorrow when it begins again.