Notify the Big W

We're T minus 8 hours for departure. I've been getting this household ready to be uninhabited for two weeks (don't you wish you knew where I lived so you could safely come steal the veggies that will surely be growing in my garden?). The Mini (van) also required a two day trip to the spa before she would consent to such a voyage as I have planned. She's sooo high maintenance...

Bills have been paid, garden has been fertilized and the house cleaned (sort of- The Most Wonderful Woman in the World comes the day after we leave and the day after we come back, so no stress there). We're packed for two weeks, suitcases are in the car. Tide samples are included since I don't know anyone who has enough underwear and bras for two whole weeks. Kids CDs and DVDs are packed. Only their favorites, of course. Healthy (sort of) snacks are in their little baggies, ready for the trip and water and juice are chilling in the fridge. Mail has been stopped. Paper has been stopped. Vacation notice will be sent from Yahoo if you write.

Frosting for the boys' parties has been prepared (including the fondant, of course) and will be waiting in the fridge when I get back. Dogs bathed and extra flea treated in anticipation of their trip to the spa (vet). School supply list is finished (Except those darn baby wipes. I knew I forgot something!). Only two more loads of laundry to do before we are in a dirty-laundry-free zone.

My medicine bag prepares us for everything from tummy upset to narcotic-requiring-pain. As long as no one comes down with ebola, I think I have us covered. Birthday invites are addressed and waiting for The Scientist to stamp them and drop them in the mail before he flies out (please, please, please remember, Mr. Scientist). Fridge (almost) cleaned out. Camera card emptied. Dishwasher filled and running. Indulgent gifts for my four nieces and one nephew purchased and packaged adorably.

So, when someone gets around to it, would they kindly drop a line to ol' W? Someone needs to tell him that as soon as we're done monkeying around in Iraq, to let me know and I have a whole bunch of women who will gladly join me in finishing this thing up. I mean, this trouble over there can't be nearly as complicated as taking a family of five on a two week vacation (no offense to our service men and women, many of whom I know and adore, of course). I have a feeling that if you turned some of us loose over there, we'd have things finished up in no time and would leave the place ship-shape and with monogrammed handtowels hanging in the bathrooms. Don't you think?

Why We Are Done With Happy Meals for the Summer

It is hard to embarass me. I think that if you do enough time in the hallowed halls of humiliation, eventually it stops getting to you. Besides, I used to teach units on reproduction to classrooms of college students. Including every minute detail of male and female anatomy. With diagrams. And models. And plasticized actual organs. Try working up a decent blush about anything after doing that enough times.

It all started several months ago. We had some coupons to the Mickey D's closest to us (can you believe we have two Sonics and two McDonalds but no Target within 50 miles? Where the hell do I live?!). I pull through the drive through, pleased at the "Mommy is so great" comments coming from the backseat all because I'm about to get them ice cream cones. What do they care that they're free? Oh, but sad for me that I am trying to use TWO coupons in the drive through line. Apparently this is Just.Not.Done. No matter that I have three children in the car and one of them is sleeping peacefully. No matter that I have four people in the car and only want to use two stinkin' coupons and get a drink for myself. People like me must be dealt with and if I want to go so far as to use more than one coupon in the drive through, I must come into the store. Drive through convenience wasn't meant for customers like me.

So, I park the car, muttering about the piece of mind the manager, who will indeed be summoned, is going to get from me. I schlep everyone into the store, groggy and irritable baby on hip. As luck would have it, the manager was tending the register. I explain my issue and inform him that I will be telling my vast collection of mommy friends how this establishment likes to treat the mommies of this town and telling them to next time just pick the Chic-fil-a coupon if they get a choice. Getting service here is just too hard. He looks perplexed and wants to know who told me that I had to come into the store. That.Woman.Right.There. He shakes his head and does an apologetic little look and tells me that he is very sorry and will have A Talk with her. I was satisfied that this issue would be dealt with. We all have to have a Cause, right? We leave with our two free cones, but not the drink for me because I wasn't that forgiving. We went next door to Wendy's for that. I can hold a grudge.

So, needless to say, I was feeling very confident when last week, several months after the original and unfortunate coupon incident, I had occassion to use yet another set of coupons in the drive-through line. Guess what? Apparently The Incident had not warranted a full-scale employee meeting because the 16 year old I got this time hadn't gotten the memo. She repeats to me what has got to be hanging on the wall at the cash register because they say it the same way every time. You cannot use more than one coupon in the drive-through. But, this time I was prepared.

I didn't argue. I didn't explain the ratio of coupons to bodies in the car. I cut right to the chase and explained with all the confidence in the world that no, I could indeed use more than one coupon, because I had been through this before and had the assurance of The Manager that I would not have the same problem again. So, two free french fries please, another small fry for me. Loooooooong pause at the microphone. One Fish pipes up, "Wow, Mom. You really told her!" She still hasn't returned to the mike and I fear that she has walked off the job. "Maam?" I ask tentatively. "Uhhhhh. Drive around to the window, please." I'm sure that they have the burger police on standby for people like me. But, I am ready because exhaustion, indignation and a boat-load of children I do NOT want to get out of the car are fire-power enough to get me my damn free fries. Both of them. Handed through the window instead of over the counter, please.

Sure enough, the manager on duty (MOD, we'll call her) has already been summoned by the time I get the mini-van around the drive. I thank her for being so accomodating and explain that I have been through this before and know that it isn't really a big deal. And thank her again. I'm so easy to work with, see? She asks me if my order is complete and hands over my two free fries, but that's it. Oh, but I had another fry that I need to pay for too. This causes the whole order to be voided and requires her to pull out The Key and punch lots of buttons. Finally, we have three fries in the car and I hand over the cash and The Coupons. Another uncomfortable pause before she says...

"Maam, you know these coupons are only valid at the McDonalds down the street?"

And that, dear readers, is almost worth working up a blush over.



Edited to add: She did insist upon letting me still use the coupons because I think at this point she would have handed over two value-meals for free if it meant getting me out of her line. I picked up the cell-phone right then and there and called the number for comments or complaints. I gushed over over how helpful this particular manager is and how she totally deserves a Mickey D Medal or a Burger Banner or whatever they give out for commendable service. Because I'm so easy to work with, see?

You say "tomato", I say "fry that thing up"

Red Fish just ate his first fried green tomato. Loved it, of course. That makes us 2 for 3. One Fish and Red Fish are the two fried green tomato eaters. The fact that Two Fish doesn't care for them makes me question his parentage a little bit. But, we'll give him time to grow into some good taste before we get too concerned.

Running on Empty

Red Fish woke up at 1:30 and again at 2:45. I fed him at 2:45 and we both went back to sleep. At 3:30, the German Shepherd whined to go out. Unusual. They usually sleep harder than we do. At that point, I was up. Wide awake. I finally went out to the couch and read until about 5:00. Red Fish was awake again at 6.

I foolishly decided at 6:30 that there was no use dreaming of sneaking in a few more minutes before The Scientist left for work. I was up anyway- why not just keep being productive? Now, six hours later, I am now so tired that I feel like I have ignored a "may make you drowsy. Do not operate heavy machinery" warning.

I think I'm going to go call The Scientist and ask what time he will be home so that I can be showered and in pajamas when he comes in the door. Sort of like meeting him at the door wrapped in Saran Wrap. But different.

Ace of Cakes?

In one week the children and I leave on an odyssey that will take us through six states in four days and will include visits with two dear friends(including Clemsongirl, yeah!) , one aging grandmother, an aunt and my sister and her lovely family. It will also include a several hour stop in Clemson because...well, it's Clemson. Of course, we're stopping.

This odyssey will end in northern Virginia where we will spend a few days with my in-laws (and meet up with The Scientist who is way too smart to drive up with us- he'll be flying when the work week is over). From there, we will pile in respective vans and go to Williamsburg, VA with my brother-in-law's family and my in-laws for a week. We'll be staying here. It has an indoor water park which makes it the perfect destination for my pigment-challenged family. I wish I could digress at this point for some pointed snarky remarks about The Scientist's family. However, I couldn't get along any better with them and actually look forward to time with them. Disappointing, I know.

After being gone two weeks, we head back down south (The Scientist couldn't get out of it this time- he's splitting the driving with me on the way back). Two days after we return, One Fish starts school. Three days after she starts school, I have planned Red Fish's first birthday party. The day after that, we will host Two Fish's fifth birthday party. Two days after that, The Scientist goes out to sea for a month. We're on a schedule here, people.

I've been getting everything done that needs to be done before we go. Planning the parties, buying supplies, finishing school supply lists, etc.

I have a thing about making the fishies' birthday cakes. Don't get me wrong. I oooh and ahhh with everyone else and am genuinely impressed at the cakes purchased by others for their children. They're darling. Really. But, I have had a "thing" since One Fish was born about making their cakes myself. Besides, I probably don't have much time before she insists upon something stupid like Zac Effron's face airbrushed on her cake-top, so I really should bake them myself and make them darling while I can, right? I don't do "airbrushed."

I am determined to figure out fondant for Red Fish's cake. Because, can you get any cuter than these? Make sure to keep scrolling until you see the Clemson cake, too. I'll take one of those, please.

I'm off to buy marshmallows for the recipe for the marshmallow fondant. I need a trial run. I bought the most beautiful blue icing coloring yesterday and plan to have fondant in several shades of it. This is turning into quite the project.

I'll be sure to post pictures of the Walmart cake I end up ordering...

Mojito Madness

I feel it my duty to pass along my recent discovery. It is this:
1) Mint grows like a wild thing if left alone.
2) If it is to be tamed at all, you must find something to do with the mint.
3) We do not own any silver glasses and I think you cannot properly drink a mint julep without one. So, those are out.
4) Mojitos are curiously refreshing and delicious and no one cares what you drink them out of.

Mojito Recipe (if you have a better one, please pass along)

1) Take cup of choice. With a mortar and pestle, smoosh up some mint leaves (fresh, of course). Don't get really hung up on the number of leaves. By the time you have a few of these, you'll be going old school and just throwing a bunch of stuff in the glass anyway. If you like mint, start with about 6-8 leaves and add to taste. If you don't, go with four. Dump smooshed leaves in cup.

2) Put some powdered sugar on top of the mint smoosh and mix it up. Here's where you can ad lib a bit. The powdered sugar was making me a little crazy. It doesn't blend well and I really wished I had some simple syrup instead. Then, a friend pointed out that we could just add a bit of rasberry coffee syrup to it (not coffee flavored, but the kind they add to the coffee to make it slightly rasberry flavored) and probably sweeten it and make it extra delicious at the same time. She was right. So, go with the powdered sugar if you happen to be a real rules follower. Otherwise, do what works for you.

3) Throw some lime juice on top. Fresh limes if you can at all swing it. The lime juice from concentrate gets the job done alright, but nothing beats the fresh. Go with juice from about one lime. You can add later if you want to.

4) Add rum. You can figure this out by yourself.

5) Top with club soda. Toss a lime slice on the top as resort-wear.

Whoever invented this drink was a genius.

Don't these make you want a baby boy?

These are what I splurged on today for Red Fish. I decided that, although he seems to be not-so-into foowear, I couldn't very well have us going off on a two week vaca with no shoes for the baby, could I? They're Wee Squeaks and they have a little squeaker in the sole of them so that they squeak with every tentative step he takes. Absolutely adorable!! They are either going to sell the whole walking concept to him completely or totally shut it down so that I will be carrying around his fat little self until he's 6. I'll let you know.