Wednesday, July 27, 2011

How to make my perfect chocolate chip cookies.

Not to brag or anything, but I make really delicious cookies. Want to learn how?

Step one: locate ingredients. In my case, this necessitated a quick trip to the store for flour.

Luckily, on my way to the store, I stumbled across this very helpful orphan child, and bribed her into coming to my house with chocolate chips. Quick tip: when looking for your own helpful orphan, keep an eye out for floofy, uncontrolled hair. Clearly, there's a child without parental oversight.

The ratio of cookie to chocolate chips is a very personal choice. In my own life, for example, I find myself sandwiched between two extremes. Paddy would be quite content to avoid any and all chocolate chips for the rest of his life (I know. I can't figure it out, either.) My mother, on the other hand, uses only the tiniest amount of dough humanly conceivable, and even then only because it is absolutely necessary in order to hold the copious amounts of chocolate together in the oven.  I find myself somewhere in the middle.

My least favorite part of cookie making is the seemingly endless process of scooping the dough onto the pan.

The perfect cookie texture is soft, but firm when cooled. Under no circumstances should a chocolate chip cookie be overcooked.

Hair safely corralled, the next step is to share with the orphan child.

Done correctly, she'll enjoy the snack with a sippy of cold milk.

And finally, store in an air-tight container with a piece of bread. It's an easy trick that keeps them soft and fresh that my mother, She-With-The-Chip-Obsession, taught me. Trust me, it works.


Thursday, July 21, 2011

Take THAT, February.

I put Addy into her pack 'n' play in the cool, quiet basement with a sippy cup of fresh water and waved goodbye. I walked back up the stairs, leaving the sounds of my running laundry behind me, and sauntered up to the kitchen to enjoy my lunch. I peaked through the curtains to my overrun backyard, where my lazy dog was sprawled out on the grass, soaking up the sunshine.

I found myself bent in half over the sink, fresh peach juice dripping down my chin and from between my fingers. Moments later, the pulpy pit and a few pieces of soft, furry peach skin were all that remained of my perfectly ripe meal.

Sunshine, a sleeping baby, and fresh peaches on sale at the grocery store: this is why I love summer.

Monday, July 18, 2011

One down.

I've been contemplating this post for a couple of days. Ultimately, I decided my hesitation was related to some sort of internal filter that prevents me from typing the word 'mole', so let's go ahead and get that out of the way first off.

Mole mole mole mole MOLE.

Ugh. What a horrific word.

So anyway, moles. I have a few, ok? I come by them naturally from every identifiable side of my family, so what was I supposed to do about it? It's genetics. I can't fight that crap. Mostly I don't notice them anymore since I've had them since basically forever.

And now I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to lead into this story, and let's just jump right in because there's no easy way to say this:

Bug noticed a small mole on my neck while we were at the eye doctor with MJ last week, and she used her tiny fingernail to rip it off.


Just to recap, this is the text I sent Patrick that day:

On top of your list of texts you did not anticipate today: Bug just scratched my neck mole off at the eye doctor and now I'm bleeding.

Any questions?

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Put the washing machine on standby.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled cute Bug picture posts for this important announcement:

Some of the very cool ladies in my family and I are running a sludgey, slimey, all-around mud-fest of a race on August 20. It's going to be such a party!

Want to come along? Post a comment (or just do that anyway because comments boost my self esteem) and I'll give you the info to register with our group so you can hang out with us on race day. Or, get your own group together, but remember-- this one is ladies only!

Saturday, July 2, 2011

And that's what I call a good point.

P: But, I just want it to be exactly like it was before.

Me: You know that phrase "can't have your cake and eat it, too"? You can't have cake, eat all of that cake, and then still have cake.

P: I know. But you CAN start baking another cake exactly like the first one as soon as you're done eating.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Next up: second grade.

We have this beautiful book at our house called "If I Could Keep You Little" by Marianne Richmond. Paddy wandered in while I was reading it to Bug the other day.

"She's not even little NOW," he said. "We should just start calling it, 'If I could keep you medium.'"

Maybe those of you who don't birth baldy mcbaldo babies will be less impressed by this.

I absolutely cannot get over my girl with a pony tail. When did this HAPPEN?