scary

this is what we had for dinner tonight. grilled pork loin ala butch. i only can work out two days a week, due to scheduling conflicts... and usually on those days i have dinner for my husband ready to go (like a casserole) or i have something easy (like a frozen pizza) for the oven. tonight i left this nice slab of meat and thought chef warren could handle it. (bobby flay he is not.) that being said, he is usually pretty good on the grill, but tonight? not so much. i got home shortly after he put it on and went outside to push the girls on the swings. he was working on some sides inside. (i asked him if he had things under control, he said yes.) shortly after, i saw some smoke billowing out of the grill but didn't really think anything of it. he came flying out of the backdoor (beer in hand), opened the lid, and the entire loin was engulfed in flames. he screamed like a little girl, ella shrieked, "FIRRRRE!" and carrie got scared and started crying. guess what i was doing? (if you guessed laughing...you are correct.) he grabbed some tongs and pulled it out...then replied, "ah GEES, didn't you see all the SMOKE!?" i replied through my small seizure that i did see the smoke, but didn't think the whole damn thing was on fire. upon inspection, he felt he could salvage the meat and started cutting the black outer layer off. (delish.) we added some barbecue sauce on top and called it a day. note to self...do not leave large (flammable) cuts of meat as a running night meal, leave pizza. it's safer.

a couple nights before, i was thinking about how nice it is to now have both children consistently sleeping through the night. the days of feeling like a walking zombie have passed and it is a rare occasion that either child wakes up at our house. (it's glorious.) that being said, ella decided that monday evening she was going to break the streak and torture us slowly throughout the wee hours of the morning. (joy.) here's the thing about parenting, as soon as you have something figured out, or think things are going well, or say something outloud about it...your kids will make a liar out of you. (every. single. time.) for some reason on monday, i had a really tough time falling asleep. my husband, on the other hand, is always out the minute his head hits the pillow. moreover, throughout the evening he hardly even moves. it's kinda like sleeping with a corpse. there are often times i wake up in the middle of the night and can't fall back to sleep...i always look over just to make sure that he is still breathing. this such evening though, i tossed and turned and finally fell asleep somewhere around 11:30. at approximately 12:04am, i heard whines and moans from across the hall. (dammit.) i darted upright and ran over, expecting a fever or some other toddlerhood tragedy. when i walked in the room, my tenacious three year old stopped crying and said, "mommmeeee, i fink there is a ghost in hereeeeee!" her eyes were darting around the room. (umm what?!)

i was still half asleep but i said, "a WHAT?!" she said, "a ghost!" after my eyes darted around the room a few times, i told her to lay back down...and that i would call ghostbusters in the morning. she nodded her head. (even though she had no idea what this meant, i found this to be amusing.) so she laid back down, i tucked her in and went back to bed. at approximately 12:34am, more moans, more whines, more nonsense. (why god.) i went back over. "mommmmeee i am firrrsttyyyyy." (thirsty.) i got her water, laid her back down and i went back to bed. at 1:09am, "mommmeee i need some fox!" (socks.) got her some socks, laid her back down and went back to bed. (catching a pattern here?) so when the fourth occurrence happened and i felt like i was really losing my mind i called in for back up. i whispered, "butch....(louder) butch....(loudest) BUUUTTTCH!" he gasped, sat upright, rubbed his eyes and yelled, 'WHAT!" boy body parts were flying all over the place. (i laughed.) "what are you LAUGHING ABOUT!" through my delusional hysterics i stated, "ella has been up 3 times in the past 2 hours...this is her 4th time up, it's your turn." he stumbled out of bed, put on shorts, relieved himself...and then went over. only to come back a few seconds later and say, "she peed through her diaper, can you change her?" (UGHHHHHHH.) so i went back over, changed her (and the sheets) and went back to bed. finally at 4am when i heard more whines (for the love of...), i asked him if he could go over and lay down the law. enough was enough. (this means war.)

so i heard him stomp over and squawk (in a whisper yell, as to not wake up her sister), "ella! you don't need anything else but to just go to SLEEP. i need sleep, you need sleep...we all need SLEEP! if mommy or i hear you again we are closing your door. go to bed!" i heard her reluctantly say, "awwwwwiiiiiiittttteeeee." (alright.) at this point, the evening was shot. we normally wake up at 5:30am and it was alright pushing 5am. when the alarm went off, we both looked like axe murderers and i cursed myself for even THINKING about how nice it was to have the kids consistently sleeping through the night. (liar liar, pants on fire.) so anyway, another joy to parenthood played out in our house monday night. after a long day of work on tuesday, i decided to treat myself to a quiet trip to the spa. (the spa being my bathroom.) after a serious discussion with ella about ghosts, thirst, socks, and potty training, i put both kids to bed. i grabbed a glass of wine from the kitchen and sauntered desperate housewives style to the bathroom. it's been a long time since i divulged in some quiet time such as this. i poured the fancy bubble bath (body wash) into the tub and sank down in. shortly after, though, i gracefully knocked the wine glass over off of the side of the tub onto the (unforgiving) tiled floor, splashing red wine and spewing shards of glass all over the bathroom....turning my quiet time into mayhem and creating my own crime scene. (huge mess.) i just shook my head. (shit.) thank god i didn't light goddamn candles or anything, the curtain would've also been set ablaze. (so peaceful.)

as i was making the bed that night, before crawling into it (i need to have the bed made to sleep in it)...maybe that's just me. (butch thinks i'm weird.) i said, "boy, i hope we get a full nights sleep tonight." he said, "well don't go pulling any antics like you did the night before!" i said, "what antics? that was all ella." he replied, "i felt like you were schwarzkopf and we were going to war! CHARLIE IN THE TREES! CHARLIE IN THE TREES!" (his arms were flailing.) i started losing it and said, "i wasn't that dramatic when i woke you up. he said, "well you scared the shit outta me. don't do it again!" (alright then.) anyway, as we round out wednesday with a charbroiled piece of pork i'm hoping the week can only get better. tomorrow is halloween and i'm so pumped my kids are old enough to go trick or treating...so i can steal the candy from them. (sorry, kids, the snickers are mine.) you bet your sweet ass we will find the houses that are giving out full size bars and go back...twice. (there is nothing fun about fun size, people.) i'm hoping that more consistent sleep filled nights await us, but now that i've shared this with all of you...it's bound to be a thing of the past. moreover, the bowlegged baby still doesn't have all of her teeth...so i know that torture train is just around the next bend. (teething? yesssss!) i know other parents can relate to this lively warfare otherwise known as parenthood...however it may not be as scary as ghosts in your kid's bedroom, crime scenes in the bathroom, or parched pieces of pork for dinner. trust me, though, i feel your pain. stormin' norman...over and out.

poison

it was brought to my attention yesterday (at the dinner table) that my husband has poison ivy...on his penis. (my god.) i was elbows deep in a taco and he leaned over and said, "so i think i have poison ivy on the back of my neck, can you look?" i examined it, and sure enough he had some there. i knew that he had been in the woods working on a haunted halloween trail for a party this past weekend, but didn't know that he had been in contact with poisonous plants. i started swallowing some rice and he looked over  at me and said (while chewing), "i think may have some 'down there' as well." he eyeballed his manhood. after choking slightly, i slowly placed my fork back on my plate and said, "are you telling me that you have poison ivy on your PENIS!?" he raised his eyebrows and replied, "yeah...i mean, it was kinda itchy today and i think there is a small patch of it on there." he acted as if this was no big deal...and then after some thought, i gasped. (loudly.) martial events from in the bedroom the night before played out in my head and i yelled, "what do you MEAN it's on your PENIS?!" he said (calmly), "what?" i said, "don't WHAT me! WHAT about LAST NIGHT!?" then a minute later, he said (while smirking), "oh." oh yeah, pal...poison in my lady parts?! (houston, we have a problem.) i started to feel sick to my stomach and feared our mexican feast was going to fly out of my mouth any minute. i got up from the table and walked out into the kitchen. (deep breaths.)

our kids were at the table with us, so i didn't want to go all ape shit in front of them...but i was having a slight panic attack. i'm sorry if the thought of poison ivy permeating my private parts was a little over whelming, but it was. i was having a moment by the sink when he walked out into the kitchen, slapped my ass and said, "so any chance of it happening again tonight?" i turned around and almost assaulted him with the sponge and soap. i squawked, "are you KIDDING ME? do you really think this is FUNNY?!" he was laughing. (a lot.) in that moment, i almost called the gynecologist...but the thought of their facial expressions on the other end of the line was too much for me to handle. i'm sure they have 'heard it all' before...but i know damn well they aren't getting daily calls about poison ivy infected penises. so, i did the next best thing (maybe.)...i texted a friend of my brother's (who is a doctor) and asked him for his expertise. (dear lord.) this guy is a family friend whom i've known for years, so i had no problem asking him about it. however, i had lost my phone a month or so ago and didn't have his number...so i had to text my brother for it. i just stated that i had a "health question" for our doctor friend and i needed his number. he responded quickly with the number and then said, "is everything alright, sis?" (oh boy.) although i didn't want to discuss my sex life with my brother, i stated that butch had poison ivy on his penis and that we may have had relations the night before. (he. went. off.)

i will censor his response, but simply put it was 'wtf'...his was not abbreviated, in all caps, with a slew of exclamation points slash question marks behind it. (wtf indeed, dear brother.) he then went on to ask me how his brother in law even ended up with poison ivy on his pecker in the first place...."what the hell was he doing, whacking off in the weeds?!" (at this point, i have to admit i was laughing. hard.) i told him about the haunted trail and the woods, and that butch may/may not have relieved himself behind a tree while up there, causing him to come in contact with the poison. all my brother said was, "this is not real life."(it is.) then shortly after he became irate again and said, "WHO HAS SEX WITH POISON ON THEIR DICK?" (i couldn't breathe.) so in the midst of talking to him about this, i texted the young doctor. this is what i said: "butch just discovered poison ivy on his PENIS. we had intercourse last night. i'm wondering if this is cause for concern. and please stop laughing." he wrote back rather quickly and stated that he literally had to pull off the road upon reading that. (oh good.) and before giving some medical advice, said some stuff, including (but not limited to), "poison ivy in your box?! you cannot make this shit up." (no, sir. no i cannot.) judging from his ridiculous reaction, i'm quite certain the nurses station at my lady doctor would've been losing their minds laughing, "holy shit sally! get a load of THIS story..."while i wait on hold. (no, thanks.) basically, he stated that if was going to be a problem, i'd be well aware of the problem. plus, they would probably just prescribe prednisone if it was really bad. (oh perfect.)

so here we are two days post poisonous penis and i have no problems to report thus far. however, i don't feel like i'm out of the woods just yet (pun intended). i'm a married mother of two children and i have a full time job...believe me when i say i do not have time for a box botany science project gone wrong. i'd imagine that poison ivy in your lady garden would not be a walk in the park. (just a hunch.) as the panic of this incident passed, i had to deal with my husband walking around the house later last night thrusting his hips in my direction and making a hissing sound...acting as if his penis was a poisonous snake. (i'm glad you are laughing, cause i wasn't.) he did this again this morning while i was making my coffee. (he thinks he's funny.) maybe you read all this and thought, "well, what about him?! i hope he's okay?" he's fine. (trust me.) i asked him this morning how it was and he said, "it's just itchy, but if it gets real bad i'll just slap some calamine down there." (jesus christ.) so, as you can see, we are off to a stellar start to the week. my long distance run on sunday prepared me for a lot of things, but it did not prepare me for poison ivy on my husband's penis. thank god there are adult beverages to deal with incidents such as these. king cobra is working late tonight and i'm glad i don't have to deal with his nonsense. my potentially venomous vagina and i are enjoying some alone time with some wine, but don't worry...i have a bottle of benadryl nearby. bottoms up.

ten

ella chose not to nap yesterday...instead she serenaded us from her bedroom with the abc song. over, and over, and over. (and over.) she even was clapping for herself after each round. i was standing in the bathroom at one point and i then heard her making up lyrics to other ridiculous songs. my personal favorite was, "you can climb the TOWER, but you can't get the peanut BUTTER!!!" i laughed my ass off and went to tell butch. where does she come up with this stuff? maybe this is a three year old's metaphor for life? when i went in to get her after 2 hours of singing, she said, "hello mommy, i pooped. change me please." (oh crap. literally.) i said, "what in the world were you singing!?" she got all embarrassed and said, "just some fings i made up." (ok then.) i will say this though, if i want to get any childs' attention easily (whether it be my own, or kids in my class), i just have to sing something silly. i took notes from mary poppins and that sitter knew how to get shit done. i turn goofy stuff into a song and belt it out with an english accent and waalaa...it's much better than screaming to get them to look my way. so, i guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and i shouldn't be that surprised about my own 3 year old making up proverbial peanut butter songs. (well done, ella.)

today i laid pint sized poppins (and her sister) down at naptime and knowing butch was still in the weeds from events the night before...decided that i was going to go for a run. (a long one.) before i left, i stated, "i'm going for a run." butch replied, "i'm not." (alright.) my goal was to run 10 miles, but i didn't really map it out. i've never run more than 7 at one time, but i've talked to people and they always say, "if you can run 3 you can run 5, if you can run 5 you can run 7, if you can run 7 you can run 10...etc." i am always skeptical, but if you told me a year ago that i could run even 3 miles with out puking or passing out...i wouldn't have believed you either. (at all.) so with everyone laid down to rest at home, i laced up my sneakers to head outside...into the beautiful fall weather i may add. (epic weather.) so i kinda had a food hangover from the night before, imbibing in treats such as beer and cheese soup (good.), chili (yum.) and a plethora or dips and desserts. (yes.) i felt like hell on the first mile and thought that i may throw up. (no.) i choked down vomit and plunged through and wouldn't you know it, miles 2-4 were pretty breezy.

at about mile 4, a friend of mine (and a gaggle of guys) happened to drive by. he was honking his horn, yelling stuff out the window...and videotaping me on his phone. i was not amused, but what the hell could i do? they thought this was highly hilarious, however i was pissed they were messing with my peace. thankfully they drove on. (dipshits.) shortly after mile four, i started to lose some steam and thought maybe my goal to do 10 today was just a little out of reach. (i kept going.) it was at mile 6 that i had the sudden urge to simultaneously shit my pants and puke down my sports bra. i fought the urge successfully, but i will say sometime around mile 7 i saw jesus and we had words. i asked him for the pain to stop. instead, both of my short stocky legs suddenly felt like they were filled with cement and i had sweat coming out of places i didn't know could sweat. i stopped and looked for a song on my ipod to help me through. if jesus couldn't help me, maybe katy perry could? when i turned the bend from mile 7 to mile 8, i got a second wind and kinda felt like forest gump...the cement curse lifted, as did the need to lose my lunch. around mile 9, i really didn't think i could go any further...i kept telling myself that it was just 10 more minutes, just one more mile, but physically i felt like a train wreck. i did, however, smell the finish line and at this point i realized it was mostly mental.

when i got home and realized that i just ran 10 miles (without anyone chasing me)...i felt pretty fantastic. i'm quite certain i blacked out somewhere along the way, but i had made it. (and at least i didn't pass out or shit my own shorts.) i've stated before that motherhood can make you feel at times like you have a couple screws loose. for me, running balances that out. it's something that i can do for myself, against myself, by myself. i've come to really love it. butch thinks i'm absolutely absurd for wanting to run at all, let alone long distances like i did today. i know this because when i got home i said, "i just ran 10 miles" and he said, "what the hell is wrong with you!? i just called a bunch of people looking for you and was about to send out a search and rescue!" he was serious. (come outta the weeds, warren.) so after 2 loads of laundry, cleaning the house, making breakfast & lunch, running 10 miles, and having a pot of soup already on the stove for supper, i'm kinda feeling like suzy homemaker...on steroids. endorphins have been flowing since i've stopped and i feel like i tightened a few of those screws that were in danger of coming loose. (although, i am quite sore and will probably feel like hell tomorrow.) i will say that i'm ready to tackle another week, but i will not forget that i may be able to climb the tower, but i can't get the peanut butter. proverbs brought to you by a three year old...that somehow after a 10 mile run suddenly makes perfect sense.

marriage

five years ago on the day of our wedding, i was dressed in an ivory gown, said i do at the alter...and rode off into the sunset in a horse and carriage. (that really happened.) later that night, we danced late into the evening with family and friends, drinks in hand, and didn't have a care in the world. on the contrary, yesterday morning i rolled over at the ass crack of dawn, woke up two sleepy children, said goodbye to my husband, loaded the kids into the car to take them to the sitter...and rode off in my SUV in the pouring rain to go to work. later that night, we took the kids out for an early dinner and came home to a trash tornado made by our (spiteful) dog, then we watched dateline and went to bed. quite certain i'd prefer the former, but here's the thing...that's not real life. i mean, the actual wedding day is a beautiful thing...but it's not a precursor to how flowery and lovely your life together is going to be. life makes things messy. marriage is messy. if people expect marriage to be something out of a disney movie...they are going to be sadly mistaken. suddenly you are a mother formerly known as cinderella and you have to exchange your glass slipper for a pair of discounted nike's your husband bought you for your anniversary...in the wrong size. (yep.)

trash tornado ala penelope.

moreover, the children involved in a marriage also throw curve balls into the equation. (things the parenting books don't tell you.) for instance, i always hate when the weather changes abruptly like this from season to season, but it's probably not for the reason you may think. the real reason i hate it is because i have to swap out my childrens' wardrobe so that they are both dressed appropriately for the weather. what a pain in the dick that chore is. now if you don't have small children you are probably like, "this does not sound like a big deal...nor like a colossal pain in the dick." it is. i promise you. i wish a little clothes fairy would fly into my house during these season (and size) changes and do it for me. i try to get rid of the clothes that they never wore, throw out things that are too stained to pass on, pull out clothes for carrie from ella's old wardrobes, and figure out what i need to buy for my oldest. tis the season for footie pajamas and i'm just not ready to tackle this nonsense. plus, it's hard to figure out how to store this stuff. it's absurd, actually. i have totes and trash bags full kids clothes. anyways, i started undertaking this chore this week. i mentioned to my husband how much i hate it and he stated that if i wasn't around, our kids would just wear the same clothes for all seasons (no mention of sizes)...he would just add a sweatshirt or sweatpants on top of it when needed. (oh good.)

tutus are for every season at our house.

as i was upstairs playing clothes fairy, butch was in the kitchen and i heard him walk out into the living room and say, "oh my god...why. why, carrie, why." i ran down the steps to see that carrie had ripped every single wipe out of a brand new pack. (every single one.) he gathered them all up, handed them to me and said, "here...here's 5 dollars." (hahah!) seriously though, why do kids pick stuff like wipes to play with? it looks like that giraffe from toys r us threw up all over the living room, but my one year old finds the one pack of wipes we just bought and destroys it. (makes no sense.) meanwhile, ella was busy trying on her tutu and refusing to sit on the potty even though she just stated she "had to poop." i believe that if your child can look you in the eye when they are dropping a deuce, ask you to change them, bring you the diaper, and request powder to be poured on their butt...they are ready use the restroom. this really happens at our house. (all of it.) when she is making poop faces and telling me she is going, i ask her to go sit on the potty instead and she acts as if i told her to strangle elmo with a jumprope. (she wigs out.) when i wig out back at her, things quickly go from bad to worse and then she starts spazzing. tears, tantrums and torture. people have told me that things with potty training will eventually just "click." i always say, "when?" they say, "soon." i've been hearing this for a year. people are liars.

anyway thursday morning, while making coffee...i turned to my husband and said, "don't forget to pick up the girls today after work. i forgot to text you the day before." he stated, "yeah...i sorta remembered but still got off the wrong exit, because i was daydreaming...about gouda cheese." (i swear he said this.) i said, "what?" he said, "i got some gouda cheese at the grocery store and it was all i could think about after work...so sure enough i got off the wrong exit and was a little late to pick them up." i really couldn't make this up if i tried. i mean, i wonder what he even said to the sitter (if anything), "sorry i was late, but i had gouda on my mind?" i guess i'm glad he wasn't daydreaming about other women? if i only have gouda to compete with...i think i'm good. sure enough when i got home from running that day, he was standing there eating that cheese and also feeding it to madam mayhem and princess poopy pants. he shoved some in my face and said, "you have to try this! you have to!" i said that eating it would defeat the whole purpose of my run. he said, "WHO CARES, IT'S DELICIOUS!" (dear lord.) this is just another example of how marriage is not a fairytale...all of a sudden your prince charming is daydreaming about cheese and forgets to pick up your children. (cinderella? i think not.)

to celebrate tonight, we will not only have an overnight sitter for our children...but will also be able to stay at our own house. (in our own bed.) this may not sound like a big deal, but this is the first time in THREE YEARS (damn you offspring) that we will have the whole entire house to to OURSELVES. my aunt and uncle have graciously offered to take our two tutu wearing tootsie pops for the night. usually when we get an overnight sitter it's because we have to go somewhere far away. so although we are going to celebrate our anniversary by going out to dinner, we are most excited about a quiet, childless night at home. (weird.) and lets not forget "sleeping in" the tomorrow morning. (who am i kidding, i'll be up at 6 anyways.) tonight i'll trade in my ivory gown for a simple dress and swap my diamonds for a (free) pair of pearl earrings that my husband got me as an anniversary present. (with a coupon.) i do know one thing for sure...although our life together is not a fairytale by any means, it sure is a whole hell of alotta fun. as i woke up (early) this morning to my toddler yelling, "IT'S LIGHT OUTSIDE, mommmmEEEEEEE!" across the hallway (with poop in her pants)...i went back to the fact that somewhere in the past five years, my carriage turned into a pumpkin and my glass slipper is long gone. the funny thing is, i really wouldn't want it any other way...and it sure isn't a fairytale, but it's something much more funny. laughter keeps us moving forward and our children teach us daily what life is all about. marriage is not always pretty, often quite messy, never easy...but it is what it is.

serenity

alright, so i mentioned in my last post that i would like to get back onto the paleo wagon to knock off a few pounds that i've put on in the past couple of weeks. it's only 5 pounds, but this is not my first rodeo with weight gain. five turns into ten, ten turns into twenty, twenty turns into forty...and suddenly you are sitting in a dorm room eating ravioli out of a can and washing it down with natty ice, wondering why pajama pants are the only thing you can fit into to go to class. not saying this happened to me...i'm just saying. (it may have happened.) anyway, weight gain is a sneaky bastard...and for you "naturally skinny" folks, just shut up with any comments you may have. go shove a piece of pork in your mouth and let it stop you from any stupidity that you want to share. i'm very happy that you don't have to worry about working out and watching what you eat...but the rest of the world does, and we hate you for it. (end rant.) so back to what i was saying, i also like trying new recipes because like any other family, we get stuck eating the same old things week after week for dinner. (at least that's what happens at our house.) so this week i tried healthy, paleo inspired, new recipes and thought i would also share them with you. here goes.

sunday
on decided to try a sunday (soup) dinner meal that would also satisfy my garbage disposal of a guy. i found a recipe for pizza soup and thought...what's not to like about it? pizza? good. soup? good. i started cooking in late afternoon while the kids played outside with butch. i love (love) being barefoot in the kitchen, glass of wine nearby, and cooking up something savory on a sunday. (cue country music song.) if my feminist friends are judging me because i said it, then so be it. at least i wasn't barefoot and pregnant, then i could really write my own lyrics. usually, though, i have one of my children hanging on my leg trying to reinsert themselves in my vagina. (does that count?) anyway, this recipe took a little while to put together, so i wouldn't recommend it for a weeknight meal if you are a working mom (or working person) it's more of a sunday afternoon accompanied by a glass of wine type of meal. that being said, putting it together was easy...it just took a couple of steps. the only thing i substituted was regular butter (instead of the ghee) and it turned out bangin. butch shoveled two bowls down his chops. (however, i served his with a side of texas toast...i left that out for myself.) all in all a successful soup that i would definitely make again. winner, winner...pizza soup dinner.

pizza soup

monday
as i arrived home from work, i opened the back sliding door and stepped out into the sunshine with my two little ladies. butch is away, so we played for a good half hour. i stepped back into the kitchen to prep the chicken. as i looked out the window, i saw ella karate chop her sister into the topsoil over her tricycle. carrie is going through an awesome phase where if anyone takes a toy from her, or mildly hurts her, or if a warm breeze knocks her down...she acts as if it's a baby hate crime and loses her mind. screams and cries galore. however, the kid is build like a brick house...so most of it is a huge act, but i ran outside anyway to line the crime scene with yellow tape. i reprimanded ella for karate chopping her sister, and then she started crying for being corrected. so both of my children were screaming bloody murder in the backyard at about 5 o'clock. (all of our neighbors windows were open.) i decided to move my motherhood mayhem inside. anyway, the chicken was really easy to prepare. i didn't use the seasoning they called for, i used italian seasoning instead. next time i would definitely make it using breasts instead of legs. i'm more of a breast woman than a leg woman. (that's what she said.) anyway, if you like artichokes and onions and need an easy weeknight recipe...this is it. so good.

artichoke and pearl onion chicken

tuesday
i felt like hell most of the day. i zoomed outta work a half hour early so that i could get to minute clinic before picking up my children. i told them i was 95% sure i had strep throat. after a strep test, they told me they were 95% sure i did not have strep throat. i have to say i was pissed...i wanted some drugs to knock this illness outta me. my immune system is like a tank. i usually cross no less than 233 thousand germs in the course of a school day. however, it figures i would get sick when butch was gone. (of course i would.) anyways, i arrived home and started whipping up dinner, all the while watching outside to make sure there wasn't a baby hate crime being committed. this dinner was fun to make. i had to buy a new kitchen tool to make it (a julienne peeler) and i felt really fancy using it. (like julia childs, minus the accent.) who knew that you could make "noodles" out of zucchini?...it was totally good. nothing will ever substitute good italian pasta, but this was decent. however, the prior two meals i could totally pull over on my husband...this one not so much. he likes his meatballs served with a pound of pasta, there is no substitute in his book. if you are cutting carbs and want something fun to make, try it. bon appetite.

zucchini noodles & meatballs

wednesday
i awoke this morning to my monthly friend. why do women call it that? their "friend?"there is nothing friendly thing about it. after you have children, you should tell people what is really happening...you are hemorrhaging. i hemorrhage once a month because my uterus hates me for filling it with babies. also, i've been menstruating for 20 years, yet every month it's like some sort of surprise. a crime scene in my pants...and i'm never, ever prepared. this being said, i had to take the kids to walgreens after work and while standing in line my 3 year old yells (while pointing to the feminine products that are the only thing on the counter), "mommy, what those FOR!? they for your BUTT?!" (oh christ, ella.) people were snickering. i just gave her a look. she looked back at me...and wanted answers. i just said yes. so when she is becomes a woman and starts shoving feminine products in her rectum, she can blame me for the confusion. (awesome.) anyways, i had this meal already prepared in the crockpot. (praise jesus.) however, it was quite overcooked when i got home and the chicken was really dry. i made some guacamole to go with it and it sorta saved it...but i'm guessing the cooking time was just too long. if i make it again, i'll probably use bigger breasts. (that's what she said.) if you have time to tweak it, go for it. if not, i'd bag it and try another recipe. fail.

crockpot salsa chicken

thursday
while at target on saturday, i picked up some chicken sausage. now don't get me wrong...i love me some pork sausage, but this stuff was pretty good. i had a bunch of stuff left over from the week's recipes. so i added mushrooms, half a bell pepper, some onion, garlic, and tomato sauce i had left over from the meatball night. i threw all of that in the pan with the chicken sausage and sauteed the shit out of it. it was quite yummy. i have to say, though, that i missed the big crusty roll to serve it on, and it really didn't fill me up...but it was good. i should've made something else to go with it and i didn't. (note to self for next time.) carrie loved the sausage as well. ella told me it looked weird and wouldn't eat it. (ok then.) this is day four of my husband not being home. (batshit crazy.) so after bedtime, i sat down, poured myself a tall glass of wine (or 3). paleo? no. good for the soul? yes. please don't judge me.

garlic chicken sausage

friday.
i love friday. who doesn't? i believe that all human beings are just a bit more pleasant on this day. (for good reason.) it's glorious. i woke ella up and the first words out of her mouth were, "i love friday." me too you little question queen. me too. anyway, i had paleo leftovers for lunch, but planned on visiting my uncle for happy hour after work. i walked into his house and was slapped in the face with a sea of miller lites, crackers, and chicken nachos. if paleo was on the menu, he must of missed the memo. as i was shoveling warm mayo dip and bagel chips into my chops i said, "i haven't had a carb all week." he said, "well listen here, sister...you came to the wrong place. i should probably have a sign on the door that says 'the diet starts monday.' you are gonna lose here." i did kinda lose, but i didn't over indulge. i drove home a short time after and walked into butch housing a pizza with a side of fries. it was the first time i saw him all week and he was loving life. he kissed me...and had cheese all over his chin. (score!) the kids were so happy to see him...and the french fries he provided for their dinner. (zucchini noodles < french fries) anyway, i dipped into the dark side. yeah, well. new day tomorrow.

so here we are on saturday. the good news?...i lost the five pounds i wanted to lose. the bad news? i'm headed to philadelphia (land of the cheesesteak) for a pumpkin beer fest. odds of me putting back on the five pounds that i lost? i'd say pretty high. here's thing...life is about balance. so i ate paleo meals for a week and i feel awesome. will i return on sunday and get back in the game? yes. will i devour a cheesesteak soaked in sauce and onions and wash it down with an oktoberfest brew today? yes. i'm not worried about any of it. i vow not to be that girl in a dorm room wearing nothing but pajama pants. i'm an adult now. (sorta.) i promise to not turn to chef boyardee for my daily staples. i also needed to remember that i actually love cooking and will try not to get back into the rut that we were in prior to my husband's departure. we are taking a "family trip" to trader joe's and target this morning. if last weeks trip to the grocery store solo was like a vacation, then this week's trip is going to be equivalent to a brain aneurysm. can't wait. if there was a sarcasm font, i would've hit it a sentence ago. serenity now.