Category Archives: Parenthood

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Heeerrree’s Johnny!

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If you’ve read the story of our traumatic Monday, then you’re familiar with the loss of a dear family member, Jahmal. In the days since we took Dexter to the vet and recently called Birdie 911 for Jahmal, I’ve learned more about parakeets than I thought I would ever learn in my lifetime.

I’ve learned that:

~They also go by the term ‘Budgie’.

~They get incurable liver disease.

~You can’t 100% tell the gender of the bird without a $40 blood test (apparently they have no obvious differences, if you know what I mean ). Yeah, like I’m going to terrorize the human Engledows and the avian Engledows for that detail!

~You can make a reasonable assumption on the gender of the bird by looking at its beak. If there is blue across the “bridge of the nose” so-to-speak, then the bird is male. If that area is brown, it’s female.  The Bird Vet said that the beak test is not 100% accurate due to in-breeding and such, but it’s used as a reliable indicator of gender.

~Their beaks and claws grow like finger nails and need trimmed if they have incurable liver disease (otherwise, good grooming materials in the cage for healthy birds takes care of that problem).

~If they’re sick, they won’t display it until it’s critical and too late. It’s ‘Survival of the Fittest’ – the weakest birds get eaten in the wild (Where on the planet are there wild budgies? Rain Forest?). So, saving a sick bird seems highly unlikely given that info. When talking to the Bird Vet, I jokingly said, “So what would you have done for our bird? CPR?”. She answered in the affirmative – if it’s warranted, they’ll do it. I’m still trying to picture that one.

To help my Miss Maddie get over her sadness, we went to the pet store to get a new buddy for Dexter. They had yellow/green ones (we already had one like that!), so we went for the bluish ones. Since we were limited to males (why? Dexter is male and I don’t know nuthin’ about birthin’ no baby birdies!), we used the beak test to pick out likely candidates. There were really only two options (they had a lot of females!). There was a low-key one, just hanging out not bothering anyone and then there was this crazy one, picking on the girls, biting on others’ tails. Maddie opted for the low-key one considering that Dexter is sickly and on his way out. It wouldn’t be fair to choose a cage-mate that would literally torture him until his dying day.

Our newest addtion is adjusting to his new home nicely – he has started chirping (we were a little worried about his silence) and he and Dex seem to be buds now.

The picture in this post is of Dexter (flying off) and our new blue budgie, John.  John?

I said to Maddie, “You went from Jahmal to John?”

Maddie, “I like John.”

Well, that’s that! Welcome to the Engledow family, John!

 

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Lessons in Death

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It’s been a while since we had a really bad day in the Engledow house. If you keep up on my posts, you will know that my middle daughter worked us over for months to get a parakeet (aka budgie). So, we eventually gave in and welcomed two new buddies into our house in December – Jahmal & Dexter (see pic to the left). Jahmal is the blue and white one and Dexter is the yellow and green one.

When I went on my “Mom’s Gone Wild” weekend in Florida last month, I received a text from Maddie telling me that Dexter had been diagnosed with terminal liver disease (his beak and claws were growing exponentially so we set an appointment with a specialty bird doc). The Vet gave Dexter a trim and gave my daughter some medicine that she was supposed to administer to Dexter once a day. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that the Vet gave Dexter a month to a year to live.  What?!?  So, my teenage daughter is supposed to traumatize Dexter (and also traumatize herself) once a day by grabbing him out of his cage only to stuff a dropper of medicine into his tiny little beak until he drops dead maybe a 30 days OR 365 days from now?

She came to us two days later and asked us the big question….“What would happen if I stopped giving Dexter his medicine?’  I wasn’t surprised or disappointed. It was a good and tough question.  My husband and I told her that we should all sleep on it then we would discuss it. She clearly was very disturbed every time she had to terrify and wrench Dexter from his cage. Was it fair to ask my daughter to do this every day?

We discussed it and determined that if she decided not to medicate Dexter, that it was okay. This treatment was not a cure. It only prolonged his life – wasn’t it better for the parakeet to be free of stress for the remainder of his days instead of being terrorized once a day for an interminable period of time? We thought so and so did Maddie.

This morning Maddie called my cell phone (not realizing that I decided to work from home today) hysterically sobbing. I hung up my phone and ran upstairs (really glad that I listened to my gut and decided to stay home) and poor Jahmal, the “healthy” one, was lying on the bottom of the cage, honking and wheezing. My Miss Maddie was beside herself. I told her to call the specialty Vet and I would hop in the shower. The Vet said to get there ASAP! I was about 10 minutes away from being ready when Maddie came in and said that she thought he was dead. I ran to her room and confirmed her suspicions.

If the bird at the bottom of the cage had been Dexter, she would have been able to handle it a little better. It was expected. Not Jahmal. He was the healthy one. It wasn’t his time. Sadness….

In calling the Vet to let them know not to expect us, I found out some interesting information. The person I spoke with said that due to the state that he was in (lying on the bottom of the cage, barely conscious and wheezing), it was very likely that there was nothing that they could have done for Dexter.  Huh? Why then would you act like there was something you could do and give my girl hope? Did they need my $80 that much? She could have handled the truth! Little irritated here.

She did have a brief lesson in death today. She experienced her first loss in a very unexpected way (Jahmal wasn’t supposed to go first!) and grieved all day.

Life is just that – unexpected (both good and bad).

A ceremonial burial in the backyard is planned (as soon as it stops raining).

Here’s to my girl and her bird….

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Something New

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Okay. I tried something new yesterday and it didn’t really work for me. I didn’t like it. What is it, you ask?  . . . . . . I strayed from my normal morning routine.  (-GASP-).

To back track a bit, on my trip to Florida with the girls, I confessed my rigid daily Mon-Fri routine. As I said it aloud, I realized how crazy I sounded. So. . . .

Yesterday: The middle one missed the bus, so I had to venture out (in sweats without a shower and, more importantly, coffee) into rush hour traffic to take the always-tired, sleep-til-the-last-minute teenager to school. Since my routine was already askew, I just went with it and deliberately didn’t do the following in my usual routine: my usual laundry rotation (move load from washer to dryer, put new load in washer), fold the newly dried load, clean up the breakfast remains, and unload and load the dishwasher.

What did I do?  I did make my bed (I can’t let that go), got my paying job work done, did eventually go swimming at 1:00pm and then took my shower (finally!).

Oh, I forgot to mention that I didn’t make the scrumptous dinner I had planned either – I just wasn’t into it (and, that is weird). Everyone had to fend for themselves.

I was going with it……

Then. . . . . I woke up this morning and the dishes were still there, the laundry was still there (and growing) and the downstairs was a mess. Now, I had multiple loads of laundry to fold, the huge mess in the kitchen to clean up (including new breakfast dishes) and the downstairs to straighten. What did straying from my rigid routine get me?  Bigger messes that took longer to clean up.

My experiment didn’t work. This winging it thing only works for me when I’m on vacation (yes, there is vacation-jenni and real-world-jenni). Real-world-jenni needs routines to keep her sane – that’s all there is to it.

I’m glad we finally got that straightened out!

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Bad, Mommy! Bad!

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I know that theoretically we have control over who can hurt us (I’m referring to verbal assaults, not physical ones), right? Isn’t there a quote to that speaks to that? Ah…..yes. Here it is:

Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.  ~Eleanor Roosevelt

I really like that quote – I aspire to be that tough, but I find it very hard to control my reactions. I’m not strong that way. I admire those that have thick skin versus my papery thin epidermis. Most of the blame is rooted in my constant quest for perfectionism – the slightest bit of criticism can turn my insides into mush.  I try to act all tough on the outside and then I’m left with swirling thoughts about whatever the criticism was (direct or indirect).  I’ll do better next time. . . Wow, I should have known to do it that way. . . Your right, moms shouldn’t react that way…blah, blah….

Before we go any further, I want to emphatically state that I love all three of my children with everything I have and I would die for them (it sounds really sappy, but it’s the honest truth and must be stated for the record before we proceed).

Okay, today’s criticism that I “consented to” was bestowed upon me by the person that from this point forward will be known as the Self-Righteous One (SRO). SRO exists in one of the Jenni spheres of living. We (me, SRO, and one other inferior being) were discussing how I was “trapped” in the house last week (from Tuesday thru Thursday) with my kiddos – they had three and half days off from school due to Ice Storm 2011 (in hindsight, maybe trapped was a tad strong and I didn’t really feel trapped until the third day).

SRO:  Trapped?  Oh, you’re so funny!  I always LOVED staying at home with my kids when we had days like that….. blah, blah…..additional comments along this vein.

Me (consenting to criticism):  It was hard to get work done.  If I could have played games with them, it would have been easier to be home with them all day.

SRO:  Oh, I didn’t play games all day.  I always had other stuff to do.

Me (slinking away because I didn’t mean to imply that moms that stay home play games all day):  Oh, well, we survived (chuckle chuckle)!

Of course. the critique of my parenting was clear (and had witnesses) –  “What is wrong with you?” “Why don’t you enjoy being with your kids?”

Permission granted – my mind started racing, “What is wrong with me?  Why did I say trapped? Do I really feel trapped? What does that say about me? Am I not embracing motherhood like I should? Do my kids feel that I haven’t embraced motherhood? Do you have to completely give over your life to your kids to be the best mother possible?. 

Then, I started getting mad at myself for letting SRO make me crazy and then I started getting mad at SRO for being such a self-righteous @#$%!  I wish I my brain wouldn’t even register comments like that – like a robot.  I need Eleanor whispering in my ear “Nobody can make you feel like shit unless you let them!” (I’m paraphrasing now). 

Moms are the hardest on other moms – why is that? At one of our breakfasts, we were talking about this phenomenon because in the news we had the Tiger Mom and also a post on the Today Show’s Mom Blog by Mayim Bialik (Blossom) about “Attachment Parenting”.  I’m sure everyone has read an article or has seen an interview with the Tiger Mom since she has been out promoting her book.  Attachment parenting (this term is NOT endorsed by those that practice it – I just don’t know what else to call it) may not be familar to you. It wasn’t familiar to me and I learned something new by reading Mayim’s post.

One seems too hard and the other one seems too soft – two ends of the parenting spectrum. They have both hit a nerve (read the comments on Mayim’s post!).

Neither of these styles of parenting seems to fit my personality. So, I guess I will stick with my Control Freak, non-Attachment, Give me Peace (sometimes), Worry Wart style of parenting. So far so good, – no serial killers (however, it may be too early to tell), good grades had by all, polite kids (with some minor attitude flare-ups),  AND all three of them will still be seen in public with us! 

I just need to remember Eleanor 🙂

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It’s Raining Cats and Dogs (and Birds, Rats, etc.)

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“The difference between friends and pets is that friends we allow into our company, pets we allow into our solitude.”  ~Robert Brault,

“Animals are such agreeable friends – they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms.”  ~George Eliot

“There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face.”  ~Ben Williams

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” ~Anatole France

 

Prior to 2005, I had three young children, a husband and a full-time+ job.  “Mom, can I have a [insert name of animal here] ? I promise I will take care of it.”  “NO.”    I played the part of the mean mom that wouldn’t let my children have pets and I played this part very well.  

Now, it’s the spring of 2005 (kids are 5, 8, & 11) and the kids and the hubby are starting to work me over for a dog.  I actually start considering it – what the hell is wrong with me?  Then, my husband makes a job change and due to a non-compete clause, he can’t work for 3 months.  Now, he’s starting to say things like, “This is the perfect time for us to get a dog.  I’ll be home and can get it trained, etc. Blah, blah…”  

(I do want to take a moment to point out that I am an animal lover.  Really. When I was young, I was always bringing home stray, unwanted animals (my parents are nodding their heads as they read this).  Really, it’s true.  So, what’s happened to me as an adult?  Adult, real life stuff I suppose.  At that time, we were rarely home – both of our jobs, the kids’ activities, etc.)

Back to the story:  so the hubby, sensing my inner turmoil, declares that we will get the kids a dog, damn it!  My requirements:  no more than 50 lbs and no shedding.  Ummm, okay that’s not too restrictive, right?  To make a long story short, Jasper was a sweet surprise for the kids and for about a week, we were The Best parents EVER!  As it turns out, he’s an 80 lb horse (a bit more than 50 lbs) with the sweetest personality and NO shedding.  Not a bad addition to the Engledow clan.

Apparently, Jasper was the chink in my armor and thus the sliding down the slippery slope had begun.  We added the fish last Christmas (Rachel’s wards) and the parakeets three days ago (Maddie’s wards).  Now, we just got the best news ever!

Jack (running into the house):  “Mommy, guess what?”

Me (with a little dread):   “What, honey?”

Jack:   “I’m getting a rat!  Only two kids wanted rats and no one else put their name in, so Mrs. Eberly made a decision today on who got the rats.”

Me:  (Oh, Shoot!)   “That’s great, buddy!  Which rat did you pick?”

Jack:   “Marshmallow.  Can I go get the cage for Marshmallow?”

We did not go rat cage shopping tonight because we are not getting Marshmallow until mid-December and I need time to absorb the news.  I also need time to reflect on what has happened to me and my resolve.  I’m turning into a namby-pamby.  Oh, help me…

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Strike While the Iron is Hot

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Okay,  today I have reached my limit.  I had a mommy tantrum the size of China.  I’m seriously considering going on strike.  I mean it.  I’m at my wit’s end!  This tantrum has been building for a while.

What was the last straw?  The L word: laundry.  I know I’ve written about this before.  Maybe I should make my kids do their own laundry, but we have a family of 5 and I could see the “do your own” eventually ending with someone getting either stuffed in the dryer or getting smacked upside the head with the iron.  Why?  Because ultimately the girls will each be down to their last pair of undies (they are clearly professional procrastinators) and favorite jeans and then the race to the washer for the dual of the century (which would occur about once a week – hopefully).  This would not be helpful in reaching our goal of family unity and harmony and world peace.

So back to the part where I do the laundry – I fold everyone’s clothes, put them into neat piles outside their bedroom doors.  I do not put clothes away (except my own) – that’s my line in the sand.  Okay, so I do a load of laundry every day, thus there are clean clothes for the kids every day – little stacks that would take about 5 seconds to put away.  Instead, this is what happens outside the doors of my daughter’s rooms:

“I don’t have time to put my perfectly folded clothes away!”  “I’ll do it tonight (2 days later, see pic above).”  “I have too much homework!”  “I’m tired.” “I had to work tonight.”

I’m getting angrier and angrier as I’m fixing dinner.  Guess what I made for dinner?  Curry shrimp and rice with broccoli.  Yep, shrimp.  I’m standing in the kitchen removing the shells and the shit from 2 pounds of shrimp for my ungrateful, spoiled girls!  I should have just left it in there – I don’t think anyone has died or contracted a deadly disease from a little cooked shrimp poop, have they?

Arrrrggghhhhhh!  Do they think I do all of this stuff for shits and grins?  That’s when I started fantasizing about going on strike.  Do you know how quickly this place would lapse into total chaos without my daily attention?! I started thinking about all of the little stuff I do that no one notices (I’m sure many of you can relate) – fill the soap dispensers, the toilet paper holders, keep the house tidy, keep the house stocked with food and their favorite snacks, make doctor appointments, manage their schedules, pay the bills, etc.  You get the idea. Hmmmm….. What would happen if I went on strike, ran away, or disappeared??

After wallowing in their own filth and dirty underwear, would they start crying and begging me to come back so they could apologize to me?  Would they all magically start respecting what I do, putting their things and laundry away, doing the dishes, taking the dog for a walk all with a smile and a “I love you, mommy!”?? 

I know, I know.  But it’s part of the fantasy.  A girl’s gotta have something.

I have thought about getting each of the girls a laundry basket and just throwing their clean clothes in there unfolded.  They end up like that anyway – then they can fold their wrinkled clothes on their own time.  Hmmmm….   It would save me time.

Okay, tantrum over…until next time 🙂

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The Not-So-Secret Life of the Suburban Housewife

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Hey, people!  Yep, it’s me.  It’s been awhile since I’ve been able to post anything on my blog!  School started and “Boom!”, my life is no longer my own.  I’m a slave to no man, but children are another story!!  Whoever said the line that you get to do what you want when you grow up was a LIAR!  My kids somehow think that’s true (as I guess most kids do).  I’m tempted to share the secret of the Big Lie with them, but then I think, “Let them find out on their own!”

 

 

School time is the time my double life emerges:  Insurance Consultant by Day and Taxi Driver by Afternoon/Night. (You can also throw Chef in there somewhere!).  School has started and, thus, Fall Sports and After School Activities. 

I get home from work in time to get my youngest off of the bus, change my clothes, wait for the girls to get home and then I put the Taxi-in-Service sign on the family truckster.  Now, we’re ready to take off – Soccer practice, piano lessons, elementary to retrieve forgotten homework, library, etc.  I literally drive around for 2 hours dropping off and picking up various little people and NEVER leave my city!  It’s no wonder my ass is getting wider – I’m in a recliner all day.  So, in order to prevent me from showing up on the People of Walmart web site,  I’ve decided to take up a new hobby that requires me to actually move – I’m taking up jogging.

I know, I know – why?  Well, a couple of things:  (1) my schedule does not allow me to visit a gym or take a class on a regular basis; (2) doing tapes at home is nice, but it’s not effective when the kids are yelling, “mommy, mommy!” while I’m hopping around, breathing irregularly, and sweating profusely; and (3) I needed to find something that I could pick up do anywhere without fuss or a lot of equipment.  Running seems to fit the bill – we’ll see.  I mean I do have 45-year-old knees.  Maybe they won’t like running :).

Still having my birthday money (because I don’t have time to shop for myself), I did a lot of research and bought myself some really nice running shoes and no-blister socks!!  I also found an 8-week training program – by the end of the 8 weeks, I should be able to run for 30 minutes straight.  This particular web site said not to worry about the miles, but the time.  Sounds good to me! 

Today was Day 2 and so far so good – no pulled muscles, twisted ankles or weird aches.  I consider that a good sign.  If I can maintain progress without serious injury, I should be able to run 30 minutes continuously by the end of the week of October 11th. 

Hopefully, this will be something that I enjoy doing and can keep doing.  If I’m going to continue my not-so-secret double life (I don’t see it ending any time soon), I would like to do it without my booty becoming two axe handles wide (an old saying by my dad).

Wish me luck!

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Back To School

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Back to School!!!  Wednesday was 8th grade registration, yesterday was 11th grade registration and fortunately, there is no “registration” for elementary, but I did have to go pick up his supplies that I ordered at the end of the year last year.  This is the week I always dread because I literally just hand my checkbook over to the School System and tell them to take whatever they need.  You know, I didn’t really need to go to the grocery store this week anyway! 

Cost for three kids to get the year off to a good start:

Book Rental:  $500

 

Gym Uniform: $12  (fortunately I only have one that needs a gym uniform this year)

 

Yearbooks: $82 (can you see my HS pic?  Yikes!).

 

Spiritwear:  $30

 

School Supplies: $145

 

 

School Photos & ID cards:  $165

All Sports Passes: $35

PTO Fees:  $30

 

Whew!  I’m exhausted and broke ($1,000!!!).  This doesn’t even include any new school clothes (which I don’t purchase until mid-October any way).  Why does back to school have to be so expensive?  I don’t know how the families with parents that may have lost a job over the last year or with wage-challenged jobs can afford to send their kids to school!  The costs above don’t include lunch money or the inevitable cash disbursements throughout the year for presentation/project supplies, sewing class supplies, PTO fundraisers, field trips, etc.   Has it always been this crazy?  Since I didn’t pay for my school supplies growing up, I really can’t say.  But, I don’t remember having to supply tissues, baggies, baby wipes, etc. for the classroom.

Oh, well, I guess it’s still cheaper than the college expenses we will be incurring in a couple of years, right? 

 Here’s to another successful school year!

Unknown's avatar

You Wanna Party?

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My 13-yr old daughter has come up with the best one yet!  I’m talkin’ about a reason for a party – it’s the most innovative one I’ve heard in a while.  Really.  It’s called the “Taco Ring” party and it’s happening TONIGHT!

Descending upon us around 6pm will be 4 to 6 13-year-old silly, giggly, young ladies just dying to taste this luscious, yummy, zippy, melty food-stuff that we call the Taco Ring. Now, I must back track a bit.  This recipe is not one of my own making, but I have added my own twist to it over the years.  I’ve made this family favorite so often that I don’t refer to the recipe so it’s a little different every time.   

The original recipe comes from The Pampered Chef Busy Mom’s Cookbook (home parties are a topic for another blog)- can I tell you what the dedication says?  – “This book is for all the mothers, fathers and caregivers who make careful, loving meal preparation part of their busy lives…”  Oh, brother!  

The original Taco Ring Ingredients:   

1/2 lb of ground beef / 1 pkg of taco seasoning / 1 cup of shredded cheese / 2 containers of crescent rolls / 2 tablespoons of water  

After the meat has been browned, you are to add the cheese, taco packet and water.  Mix this up and put into the crescent rolls and pop into the oven .  

MY souped up version of the Taco Ring (I will highlight changes in blue):    

1 lb of ground beef / 1 pkg of taco seasoning / 2-3 cups of shredded cheese / 3 containers of crescent rolls / as much sour cream as you want (or ranch dressing) / as much salsa as you want      

Step 1:  Brown the meat along with the taco packet (I’m not sure why the original adds it after).  Then, you are to add all of the cheese, as much sour cream as you want, and as much salsa as you want.  Mix all ingredients until it has a nice filling consistency and put into the crescent rolls – the kicker is to arrange the triangles from the crescent roll package in to a circle so you get the “ring” effect.  (see pics). Then pop into a 375 degree oven for about 17 minutes.     

    

Step 2:  Make a circle / Step 3:  Fill Crescent Rolls with Meat Mixture / Step 4:  Flip the Triangles & Seal the Ring

It sounds criminally easy, doesn’t it?  I almost feel guilty about how easy it is for the kudos I receive.  But, they (my kooky family) LOVE it.         

Okay, back to the origin of the Taco Ring Party/Slumber Party.  Maddie recently packed a lunch with leftover Taco Ring and, apparently, her friends at the lunch table went “Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs” over it (“Wow, Maddie, it looks so yummy!”  “Can I taste it?”  “Can you bring me some next time?”, etc).  When Maddie told me about the Much Ado over Taco Ring, I was confused.  What do these girls eat  for dinner that they thought some ground beef & cheese wrapped in a Pillsbury crescent roll was, well,  like eating steak and lobster?  I don’t EVER recall going gaga over my BFF’s lunch box, do you?        

Thus, we are entertaining “THE entire lunch table” tonight with my amazing revamped Taco Ring recipe.  Do you want to know the best part?  Maddie is making the entire dinner this evening!  She hates getting help, especially from the Mahza (pronounces ma-zha: this is funny only if you have seen Austin Powers – Goldmember.  See dialogue below.).    

Goldmember:  Dr. Evil, we still have the ultimate insurance policy. May I present to you, the very sexual, the very toite, Austin Power’s fahza.
Dr. Evil:  His what?
Number 2:  His fahza, Dr. Evil.
Dr. Evil:  His farger? What’s a farger?
Goldmember:  His fahza. You know, the fahza.
Dr. Evil:  You know Goldmember, I don’t speak freaky-deaky Dutch. Okay, perv boy?
Goldmember:  Fahza, his dad, dad is fahza.
Dr. Evil:  Oh, his dad. His *fa-ther*         

Sorry, I digressed. 

Oh, one giggly invitee  just walked in!  OMG!  Now, there are two of them in kitchen cookin’ away (I love spying and listening – you can learn many, sometimes scary, things!).        

                

         

Here’s the final product:        

 

I hope it lives up to expectations!        

Bon Appetit!

Unknown's avatar

They Love Me, They Really Love Me!

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Mother’s Day 2010 is here!  
First, the Breakfast

Mother’s Day has been great so far.  Maddie (13 yr old) made me breakfast this morning with Mike as sous-chef. 

The menu had all of my favorites –

  • French Toast using fancy bread – My favorite breakfast food on the planet
  • Bacon (again a big fan!)
  • Homemade chocolate-covered strawberries (is Maddie great or what?!  chocolate for breakfast!)
  • Coffee (an absolute must!)
Second, the Cards

This was my favorite card of the day today:

Outside:

MOM SPIT

100% Organic

Amazing Cleaning Powers

Completely Germ-Free

May contain traces of TLC

Removes unwanted smears and smudges

The inside of the card is irrelevant – I love this card because I have given my multiple children multiple spit bathes much to their dismay!  It has slowed down now that 2 out of 3 are taller than I am.  Hey, if they want to walk around with stuff on their faces, then so be it!  I’m not going to tackle these people now just to keep’em clean.

 

Next, the gifts

Do you remember my post on March 19th – “My Cooking Mojo is Slipping Away”?  In it, I described the day of kitchen woe when  I set my Wolfgang Puck 3-quart sauce pan on fire.  I have missed that pan!  I didn’t realize how much I used it until it was gone :(.   Since the demise of my pan, I have been scouring the internet looking for another pan to replace it.  Well, I have discovered that in order to replace my pan with an exact WP original, I would have to buy a whole brand new set of Wolfgang Puck pans!  What?!  I can’t buy just one pan?  What a racket!! 

I had resigned myself to a cooking life without a 3-quart sauce pan – I would just have to put on my big girl panties and deal!  BUT. . . .. . .

Guess what I got for Mother’s Day today?  A 3-quart sauce pan!  They (I know it was my Rachie’s idea!) found one that could be purchased separately without putting us in the poor house!  Emeril is my new “go-to” guy!

Now, for the Mother’s Day Book – my husband started this really great thing for me.  He bought a blank journal and has had each of the kids write something in it each year for Mother’s Day.  He started this tradition on Mother’s Day 2004 when Rachel was 10, Maddie was 7 and Jack was 4.  It is a time capsule of my kids and I LOVE it.  

Jack’s entry into the book this year

Roses are Red,

Violets are Blue,

Nobody here dislikes you!

It’s true, [even, Jasper!]

Hmmmmm …… that’s sweet, right?!? 

Here is Jack’s other poem to commemorate my special day (he was very TS Eliot for this Mother’s Day!):

If You Give My Mom Some Coffee

by Jack Engledow

If you give my mom some coffee, she’ll want a peanut butter bagel to go with it.

When she eats the bagel, it’ll remind her she needs to make pancakes for everyone this morning because she’s thinking about breakfast.

When she is getting all of the stuff ready, she realizes she needs pancake mix, so she goes to the store.

When she’s at the store, it’ll remind her she needs food for Monday’s lunches, so she gets the food because she’s thinking about food.

While getting the food, she remembers she ate the last bagel so she gets some bagels for breakfast tomorrow.

Getting the bagels, it makes her really want some coffee, so when she’s done buying everything, she’ll go home and get a cup of coffee.

Chances are …

Drinking the cup of coffee, she’ll want a peanut butter bagel. 

The End.

I do like coffee and peanut butter bagels!  Again, sweet, right?! (However, I do seem to be preoccupied with food in this poem).

I know some mom’s don’t always quite get what they think they want out of Mother’s Day, but I have to say that I feel really lucky to have a husband and kids that pay attention and know what brings me joy on this special day.

In this post, I have to give a shout out to my baby girl who is 16 years old today and has to share this day with her MOM!  Happy 16th birthday, Rachel!! 

 

 

To all of the hardworking moms,
Happy Mother’s Day!!