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one, two, three…

I figure it’s not even worth apologizing for my absence. So, let’s just get to it!

One- I made this Strawberry Pretzel Salad for a cookout that we had this weekend. I had been craving a similar desert that my Nana used to make when I was little. Since Nana could have been Paula’s sister (in looks AND demeanor), I trusted Paula Deen to give me a good recipe. She didn’t disappoint. There is no picture because it may or may not already be gone.DSC_9171

Two- I am turning 35 this week. I am not one to be bothered by birthdays or the fact that they signify that I am, indeed, one year older. I tend to celebrate my birthday for at least a week every year. I will admit that I think that 35 sounds pretty adult, though. And I would say that I probably look 35. I mean, I certainly haven’t been carded in several years. Except by a guy who told me (when I thanked him profusely for being so kind as to make my day by carding me) that they carded everyone. So, about looking my age, yeah…I’m not really sure how I feel about that. DSC_9160 (2)

Three- That is how many children we will have by Thanksgiving.

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Kilgariff, Party of Five…coming your way mid-November, 2012.

a newfound love…

Yesterday I tried something new.

It’s something that I have wanted to try for a long time, but it always seemed a little…luxurious.

Then I decided to go ahead and do it anyway.

(The fact that is was offered for free this week didn’t hurt, either)

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Let me introduce you to the Express Lane at Harris Teeter.

Or, probably, you already know about it and use it.

But I am always behind.

So, now I am introduced. And it was love at first order.

Oh yes.

I went online. I searched for my items and made my list. I selected my pick-up time. I went about my day. I picked up Hobbes at school. Then I picked up my groceries. All without getting out of the car.

And only interacting with one person at the grocery store.

Then I came home and unloaded my trunk.

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And did I mention that there was minimal human contact?

I also should add that they were out of a few items.

But to remedy this, the nice lady called me on the phone and told me, then I got to tell her if I wanted to replace them with different items, get a raincheck (if they were on special), or just leave them off my order.

And let me tell you, even if I had paid the small fee (I think it’s 4.95 per “visit” or there is also a monthly option), it would have saved me money. Because I would have probably gotten a coffee (there is a Starbucks in my Harris Teeter). And when the items were not there, I would have decided to get ice cream, or something like that, just to make up for fact that they were out of the beans that we had on the list.

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Plus, by the time I got the groceries home, it was like someone had given me several bag of presents. It’s not like I really remembered what I had put on my list that morning. Grocery Christmas!!

So, I truly believe that it saved us money.

I KNOW that it saved my sanity (no three year old running wild in the aisles).

And did I mention that it kept me from having to really interact with people?

I feel like I am trying to figure out how to leave my house less and less.

I say it’s to save money, get more done around the house, and spend more time with Finn that doesn’t involve him sitting in a cart/running around a store.

But really, I think I’m a little anti-social. And I like to sit on the couch.

So, I am going to keep it up, I think.

Finn demands, though, that I tell “the lady” to bring him a cookie. That’s really what he misses about going into the store!

Up until last week, I had a son who was creeping up on being 3 and 1/2 who continuously told me:

“Mama, I will have a paci and wear diapers FOREVER!”

I giggled. But deep down, I really thought he might.

And since he’s the baby, I kind of (KIND OF) thought it was okay.

But then I started thinking about the fact that he would HAVE to be potty trained to go to any kind of school next fall.

And really, he needs to go to some kind of school.

We both need him to.

Of course, he thinks that he is going to go to his big brother’s school. Which he cannot do until he is 4 (and he misses that dreaded school-cut-off by over a month). So, he’ll be super sad when he has to go somewhere else. But, thank goodness, that’s another story for more than 6 months from now.

Anyway.

Last Friday Finn woke up with a dry diaper. Now, it took my first-born about another whole year AFTER he was potty trained to go all night with a dry diaper (which we slept in until we had that down, because who has the energy to change sheets daily?!!?? anyone??!!). So, I took it as a sign.

And we took off the diaper and went to the bathroom.

There was crying. Yelling. Screaming. Shaking. Fear. Terror. Anger. And a lot of it.

Then he tinkled in the potty.

Then he smiled and said

Mama, this is the best day EVER. Don’t I get M and M’s?”

And that was about it. No accidents. No more drama. Diaper at night, underwear during the day.

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Toy Story undies helped us along.

And we put stickers on a paper every time we went potty until it was full.

The full sticker page resulted in a “big prize”.

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A new game for his DS.

Now, this is slightly shocking to me on many levels.

1. My 3 year old son has a DS.

Rationale: if he doesn’t have what his brother has he will either steal or break his brothers “thing”.

2. He knew EXACTLY which DS game he wanted. Mario and Luigi: Bowser’s Inside Story. Apparently this game was advertised on the instruction page of his Toy Story game. Obviously.

3. Hobbes, my first born, got a Thomas Train when he got his first sticker page filled for potty training. That was what he played with. He was so sweet and YOUNG.

4. Second children (and probably all after that) are just something else.

 

Now, in full disclosure I feel like I should tell you that Finn probably WILL have his paci forever. At least in his bed. I’ll take off diapers, but I won’t mess around with kiddos who sleep all night with a paci!

last week…

I realized that my youngest needed a haircut.

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Sometimes it takes a 3 year-old with a pebbles-pony-tail for me to see what’s right in front of me.

He acts like he has nerve endings in his hair, so I wait too long every time.

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My oldest lost his first tooth.

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He actually swallowed it. At snack time at school.

I thought about looking for it, if you know what I mean.

You’ll be glad to know that I didn’t. I didn’t actually search.

I may have glanced in the toilet, though.

I mean, if it had been RIGHT THERE maybe I would have…

But it wasn’t.

So I didn’t.

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I saved time! And water! Conservation abounds!

Oh, I forced them to take a bath together again.

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I don’t know if we’ll do it again anytime soon.

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dear bacon

I’ve been writing this “love letter” in my mind for over a week now.

It started in my head on the day that I heard the news that shook my world.

Not that it is really going to change my behavior or anything. But it still makes me a little sad.

This weekend we went on our annual “ski” trip (I don’t usually/actually ski on many of these trips, just mostly drink adult beverages and watch t.v. and look out the window at the pretty mountains while sitting by the fire) and there is approximately 200 loads of laundry to be done and piles of mail to go through and grocery shopping/meal planning to do.

So, of course, I thought that now would be as good of a time as any to get pen to paper. Or fingers to keyboard. Or whatever.

Please note that in my mind, these words are softly spoken over a montage of pictures of the lovely delights mentioned below.

But I am not able to take time to do that- and it’s one of those things that would never come out exactly right anyway, and I would obsess and be sad with the results.

I know that I have problems. I admit it freely.

Anyway.

Here you go.

Dear Bacon,

I have loved you for so long. You make almost everything better.

The very first time we met, I am sure that I knew my life was changed forever.

I love you cooked in the oven, slightly tender.

I love you fried in a pan, crispy and crunchy.

I love you on white bread. With Duke’s Mayonnaise.

I swoon.

I love you with tomatoes. I love you with avacado. I love you with eggs.

I love when you are accidentally dipped in maple syrup.

I love you in small, crunchy pieces mixed into cheese grits.

I love you crumbled on top of a wedge of iceberg lettuce with blue cheese dressing.

I love you wrapped around scallops. Or asparagus. Or chicken stuffed with something cheesy.

I love you on top of a slice of cheese toast. Beside a bowl of tomato soup.

I love you so much that both of my children were in love with you before they could even say your name.

Please don’t ever leave me.

Even if I am one day forced to only have you in moderation, I will never give you up.

You have been the reason that I have never truly been able to become a vegetarian.

And for this reason, my husband loves you, too.

I will crave you forever,

Katie

Ridiculous? Yes.

And you’re welcome 🙂

the end of times…

Now, I am not going to say that I am really surprised by either of the two things that are king of bringing me down this week…but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t bringing me down.

What am I all in a dither about, you may ask?

Well, let me tell you.

1. Bacon equals cancer.

2. Paula Deen has diabetes.

Again, I am not necessarily surprised by either of these “announcements”. And I realize that one is a medical fact and one is some extensive research.

But they both make me sad.

I love bacon. And I love Paula Deen.

I think I’ll write love letters to both of them later.

Please look forward to that.

For now, I’m just a little confused about what to do with all the bacon in my fridge. I think my kiddos will cry if they see it in the trash.

And so would Paula Deen.

Hello!

It’s super dreary here today, and it’s got us cooped up inside. Near all the snacks and diet drinks (both of which I’m trying foolishly to limit my consumption of in this brand-spankin’-new year).

So, I thought I would burden you all with some ramblings.

I’ve been thinking about the holidays as I get the final bits and pieces of the decor that took over this house for over a month down.

(Full disclosure: our tree is still in the living room, and it still has lights on it- decorations are off, but the lights are on. Big plan is to take it to the curb tonight. We’ll just say that I wanted to keep it up through Epiphany. Ok?)

I wanted to share with you something that I coveted all year and then received from my wonderful mother for Christmas:

lauren wallet from zappos

*photo is taken right off of zappos.com*

It’s the “Lauren” wallet from Hobo International. Except, mine is blue. I guess they are sold out of the blue- so sorry for you! My family doesn’t understand my love for it. When I get it out of my purse I ooh and ahh over it. Every time. I snap it open and closed with care. I show anyone who cares all of it’s compartments, it’s lovely interior print, the strong magnetic close and it’s pocket that is large enough for your iPhone. Because, you see, it can be in your purse or it can BE YOUR PURSE! It is so delightful. If I had sponsors or extra cash, I would give one away to you, my loyal reader(s). But alas. You can just covet mine. And I will try diligently to write more, and more interesting, posts to try to get someone to donate something. Maybe if I had focus.

Wait. What?

Oh.

So, other than spending time showing off my wallet and taking down Christmas, I managed to run last week. And apparently going full-on on the treadmill at plus-eight pounds isn’t so good for your knees. Or, at least it’s not good for my right one. So, I have been limping around and hobbling up stairs for the past 5 days. But, at least I tried.

Then I took up knitting.

But that’s a whole OTHER story. And I don’t have that much to write about these days, so I’ll save it.

Oh, and I also managed to catch a nasty head cold. From my husband. And who says he never gives me anything…

(If you were here, I could ask my child to do the buh-duh-chink on the drums so that you could share in my headache love for music produced on loud instruments by small children.)

So, anyway the bad thing that we’ve got going on now is the ever-on-the-horizon addiction to:

afrin addiction

*pop on over and order yours at drugstore.com if you’d like*

Afrin. It’s my last resort. I don’t use it unless I have had a few bad nights of sleep due to inability to breathe OR if I feel like I am choking/suffocating just trying to drink a glass of wine water, which is what was happening on Saturday night.

So, I use the Afrin. And it works miracles.

But then I need it again. And it felt SO GOOD the first time that I can’t NOT use it.

And then I sleep better, so I vow that I will try not to use it the next day. But YOU KNOW that it seems to wear off faster, and by lunch time I can’t breathe.

Slippery slope.

Now I will have to decide when to go into withdrawal.

I think it’s not today. I really like NOT being a mouth breather.

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