She's crafty - she's just my type

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a private paint party: Think Pink! Paint for a Cause. The event was destined for success, as it included good food, great drinks, wonderful company, and a good cause. Plus, it was hosted by the fantabulous Connie and benefited our local hospital. What could be better?



Initially, I was skeptical of the event. Normally CRAFTS! IN PUBLIC! give me hives, heart palpitations, and make me want to curl up into a fetal position. While that was my first reaction, my immediate second thought was that I would pretty much sacrifice public humiliation for a girl’s night out. It’s quite possible that comet Hale-Bopp makes an appearance more often than I get a chance to have a night to myself. That trumped any embarrassment that would ensue what I CRAFTED! IN PUBLIC!



The night was an overwhelming success. No broken pottery, spilled paint, or major embarrassments. In fact, the studio made it so easy, it was near impossible to make a complete fool of myself. I’ve shared a couple of photos of the Masterpiece in the Making: Documentation that I Left My House for an Evening without Child and Played Crafty with the Girls.

How can you be mad at this?

One day last week, Kate and I were in the car driving home from daycare. For some unknown reason, she became obsessed with having her bag RIGHT NOW. I NEED my bag. Give me my bag. After trying to convince her nothing exciting was in her bag and offering many alternate options, it became clear that no substitute was acceptable. I'm driving down the road, in the precarious act of holding on to the steering wheel, leaning as far as I can into the back seat, and stretching my go-go-gadget arm to get Kate's bag. I put it on her lap, tantrum diverted, potential accident diverted as well.

A few miles down the road, I looked in the mirror and Kate was holding on to the little container that holds all of her ponytail holders. Actually, more like thousands and thousands of ponytail holders. It looks an awful lot like a pill-container, one of those day-by-day ones. So, she's playing with it and opening it and closing it over and over. Repeatedly, I remind Kate that she must keep the ponytail holders in there. Don't spill them Kate. Don't touch more than one at a time. Don't mix the colors together, it might make the OCD part of me freak out. I'm keeping an eye on her and she's doing really well. Inadvertently, I stopped paying attention.

When we got home, I opened the back door to get Kate. There she sat, EMPTY container in hand. Thousands of ponytail holders littered her, her seat, and every inch of my car. We will be finding these things for years, I kid you not. I looked at Kate with a really seriously look on my face. She looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry I broke your feelings Mom."

Here's your sign(s)

I was running errands today when I may have made a slight detour through a residential area to avoid some congestion on the main road. I think that’s illegal, so I also may not have done it. While I was gallivanting through the neighborhood, I came across a sight that is safe to say I have never seen before.


Are you ready for this?



What ever could it be?



In the front lawn of a particular house, neatly arranged, side by side, actually touching each other, sat an Obama Biden sign and a McCain Palin side. Say what? They were all cozy, hanging out in the front yard like best buds. I pondered stopping to capture it on my trusty camera phone, but figured the risk of injury and added wasted time wasn’t worth it. However, I have full intentions of returning to photograph it. I’ve spent the majority of the afternoon wondering how this was allowed to happen.

Perhaps the person has an alter-ego? I want McCain. No, I want Obama. McCain I said. Obama! So in an effort to stop a potential self-self fight, they put both signs in their yard.

It’s quite possible that, like me, they aren’t overly thrilled with either candidate. I am not sure what they are attempting to convey by taking the dual-sign approach. Just because you don’t like either doesn’t mean you can vote for both. Unfortunately, it's also not going to make any new candidates miraculously appear. Maybe they are hoping that somehow they will morph into one person? The McBama ticket?

Maybe they did it just to screw with people like me.

What is this work of which you speak?

Last night, Kate was busy picking up everything in the family room and dumping it into an empty diaper box. We call that redecorating in the abstract art sense. Since I didn't get to see her the night before, I really wanted to spend some quality time with her before bed.

ME: Kater-bug, Do you want to color with your Momma?

KATE: No, mom. I've got work to do.

I can guarantee you that I've never uttered that phrase to my darling daughter. Heck, I look for excuses not to do work, I don't use it as an excuse. I am wondering what exactly she's been hired to do and by whom. On second thought, I guess it doesn't matter. We are eagery anticipating her first paycheck. Maybe it will cover her daycare expense. No? Okay, I guess I'll take a contribution towards all of those M&M's then.

Domestic Diva ... or not

So, I know I told you that I would only share recipes that cooked themselves and hopped onto the table, eagerly anticipating your arrival home. Regrettably, I still haven’t had success with that one. However, this could be one of the easiest, most delicious meals I’ve made in awhile, so I must share (drumroll please) Crock-Pot Stuffed Peppers.

I made a couple of minor adjustments. I used brown rice instead of white, ground turkey instead of ground beef, and only red peppers because I’m difficult like that. One short cut I tried to make was mixing the filling the night before. Safe yourself the mushy rice and don't mix the rice in, store it individually. Duh. It was easy and healthy for a crock-pot recipe. (Isn’t is disconcerting that spellcheck caught crockpot and tried to replace it with crackpot?) The family loved it, which is a major accomplishment, as it isn’t easy to please a picky toddler and a husband who is leery of dinner being served in a vegetable. No one went to bed hungry, got violently ill, or sprouted any additional appendages as the result of this expedition in the kitchen, thus classifying it an overwhelming success.

Do you have any great crackpot recipes to share? My family would thank you.