How To Make The Perfect Pillow In Five Steps

Sometimes you need a little pillow surgery to get your pillow just right. Just Right = fluffy, not to high, not too low, fluffable, puffable, moldable.

Step 1: Get an Ikea Goosen Side-sleeper pillow. It has just the right kind of fluffable, puffable stuffing.
Step 2: Get another Ikea Goosen Side-Sleeper pillow, because one doesn't have quite enough of the wonderul stuffing and you will find yourself sometimes, in the middle of the night, with all the lovely fluffable, puffable stuffing at two sides of the pillow and your head in the middle lying on the mattress.
Step 3: Unpick the seams on one of the pillows and cut open the end of the other.
Step 4: Take about 1/2 the stuffing out of the cut pillow and stuff it into the other pillow.
Step 5: Marry someone who is a way better seamstress than you so he can perform the pillow surgery for you.



Voila! The perfect size, shape, and fluffability. Sweet Dreams.

THE Best Bet Win

A few years ago Big Daddy and I got in a "discussion" over whether TCBY's name was THE Country's Best Yogurt (me) or THIS Country's Best Yogurt (him). Normally when I bet against Big Daddy, I lose. Not so much because he is always right and I am always wrong (not even close, Sweetie), but more because he only likes to bet on things he is sure about (Don't pretend it isn't true. You know it is.) while I am willing to take a risk. ANYWHO...for once I won. I don't remember what I won. Probably something inappropriate to mention on a family blog, cause that is what we like to wager most. Or it could have been $5....same difference, right? (JUST KIDDING, HON!) But mostly I won the sweet moment of being able to strut around as victor. And you can be sure that every time we see a TCBY now, I point out my victory again.

Anyway, I thought I'd throw this 2 for 1 coupon out there for anyone who likes frozen yogurt --THE Country's Best Yogurt. You know by now that I'm more of a baked goods eater than a connoisseur of frozen treats. But this time of year I have occasionally been known to sacrifice precious dessert calories for something cold and creamy; it's that hot. So if you, too, need a sugar-filled cool down, and you have a friend to go with you (or if you're into eating two at a time, whichever)....voila!




p.s. Every time you print and use this coupon, my friend Kelli gets entered into a company contest for a flat screen TV. So eat up, people!

How Big Daddy Saved Father's Day

Tonight I ruined dessert. I am a pretty good cook, so usually things don't go awry that often. But tonight things were wry. Very wry. So wry, in fact, that I actually shed tears and came very close to throwing an entire Pyrex mixing bowl of whipped cream across the room. Fortunately, Big Daddy stopped me. But I'm getting head of myself...

I made Moon Cake. Moon Cake is delicious. And easy. And fattening (which is proof that it is delicious), and it is Big Daddy's favorite dessert. I was excited to make it for him. Then for some reason, I couldn't find the recipe. So I looked one up online. It appeared to be the same. I proceeded. But the eclair crust batter didn't look right while I was mixing it. That should have been a sign right there that something was wrong. But I carried on, and, after baking, it turned out flat and unattractive. Next came the pudding disaster. The middle layer calls for two 3.4oz packages of instant vanilla pudding mixed with one 8oz cream cheese, softened extensively. I softened it, pre-beat it to make sure it was truly smooth and not lumpy (lumpy will ruin Moon Cake), and then got out the pudding mix to add in. This is when I realized my main problem. Well, problemS. First of all, I bought a 5.1oz size of vanilla pudding and a 4.8 oz size. (Different brands are slightly different in size, it appears. Who knew?). I figured I could weigh out some of one package and add it to the other to get the right amount. But more importantly, I bought one instant and one Cook and Serve. Crappity! I didn't have time to cook and chill it, as I was already running about 1/2 hour behind schedule. So I used the 5.1 oz instant and added just enough of the cook and serve to make it 6.8oz total. I figured that little wouldn't hurt. WRONG. It did hurt. First of all, it wouldn't thicken as I beat it. Next, because it wouldn't thicken, the cream cheese wouldn't blend in. So despite my careful efforts at softening and pre-beating, little chunks of cream cheese floated at the top of the pudding soup no matter how long I mixed it. I hoped that it would thicken as it set, so I poured it over the flat, ugly crust and put it in the fridge. However, 20 minutes later, it was still pudding soup. LUMPY pudding soup. Lumpy pudding soup on top of a flat, unattractive crust. The whipped cream, which goes on top and should be covered in marbled chocolate sauce, turned out fine. But at this point I was so frustrated, and so late for dinner, that I figured the only logical thing to do with the perfectly good whipped cream was to chuck it at the wall.

And this is where Big Daddy stepped in and saved the day (and my small mixing bowl). He uttered the three most important words that a woman can hear during a baking crisis. Words that aren't spoken often around here, because it just isn't our style, but which, at the right time, with one person's hand laid on the other one's hand, can be the most wonderful words on earth: "Let's buy dessert."

And that is how we ended up 45 minutes late to dinner with store-bought cheesecake.

And that is why Father's Day 2010 will always be rememberd as the day that Mommy didn't end up being committed to the insane asylum for dairy-related assult. Gotta love that man of mine.

The Yin To My Yang

When your husband goes to China for a week, you learn 2 things:

1) You can survive. If you absolutely had to do it on your own, you could. This is a good thing to know.

2) You never, ever, EVER want to have to. Everything is better with him here.

.

38 Things For 38 Years

Dear Big Daddy...

1. You are incredibly generous.
2. You are a fantastic father. You are the first to offer to change a diaper or get up with a sick kid. I sooo lucked out on that one.
3. You love to nap just as much as me.
4. You have sexy legs.
5. You are super smart. When we got married, I thought we were about even. But now I realize that you are far and away smarter than I am.
6. You look great in skates (and move well too).
7. You are so inventive and a brilliant entrepreneur.
8. Everyone likes you. Everywhere you go, whether you are the boss or the uncle or the home teacher or the employee, everyone loves Big Daddy. You are just so likable.
9. You are a really good driver. That would have been a deal breaker for me when we were dating. I was not about to marry someone who drove like a grandma.
10. You are a good dresser.
11. You never shirk your responsibilities.
12. You rarely say a bad thing about another person.
13. Your Photoshop editing skills are, I dare say, the best in the entire state. No lie. You are a genius in that program and it comes in so handy!
14. You are kind.
15. You are so willing to better yourself. You may not admit it during a fight, but I always see you trying harder to change after you get criticism.
16. You have the best butt ever.
17. Your pop culture trivia knowledge is nearly unsurpassed, especially 70’s and 80’s.
18. You cook fantastic fajitas. And more than that, you are at home in the kitchen.
19. You are super talented. There are so many things you can do that I’m still finding them out after knowing you for 10 years.
20. You are dedicated to your family. Both the one you grew up with and the one you have now. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for us.
21. You are an extremely hard worker. “Slacker” is a word you have never been called (well, not since high school). When you do something, you do it 100%.
22. You have great taste. Whether in clothes or music or cars, you always know what’s cool.
23. Not to belabor the physical attributes, but you’ve got these big meaty hands and feet that I absolutely love. They’re so strong and manly.
24. You are creative.
25. You have a strong testimony of Jesus Christ.
26. You are an amazing lover.
27. You have great taste in movies. It may not seem that important, but trust me, being married to someone who loved movies you hated or who hated movies you loved would make date night very lame.
28. You always smell good.
29. You have this great crooked smile. It reminds me of Harrison Ford. Hubba hubba.
30. You pick up my slack without complaining.
31. You pay attention to little comments I make about things I like and remember them so I always get the most thoughtful gifts.
32. You never complain about how much money it costs to take me out to eat because you know that it’s my favorite thing.
33. You are an absolutely silent sleeper. (This also would have been a deal breaker for me.)
34. You have a very artistic eye. I rely on your opinion on decorating and color more than I rely on my own.
35. You will hold my hand in public. That one has been a work in progress, but we’ve come to the point where you don’t mind a little PDA now and then.
36. You are active without being overly active. I think it would be hard to be married to someone who was go-go-go all the time since I’m not. We’re about the same energy level and I really appreciate that about you.
37. You forgive me when I curse on the golf course or throw a fit after a bad shot.
38. (I have to stop already??) You love me for just who I am. That kind of unconditional love is amazing in this world. I know that despite my mistakes, annoying habits, messy house, overspending, fidgeting during movies, stealing the covers, and all the rest of it… You will always love me. Thank you.

Sweetie, your 38 years on this planet have made you an amazing man. I am a lucky woman to have you. Happy Birthday. And here’s to 38 more. I love you.

-Wifey

(Not) Made In China

As you may know, Big Daddy just got back a couple of weeks ago from a trip to China. When he left I asked him to bring back something really Chinese for me. Something traditional. I'm into all things cultural, and I've collected local religious and cultural pieces from all over the world. So something authentic and souveniery was all I wanted.

When he arrived home, Big Daddy had lots of gifts. Knock-off Ping golf clubs (full set with driver, putter, bag and shoes - $112), knock-off Ralph Lauren clothes for the kids (6 pieces for $20), knock off True Religion jeans ($22!) and some cute solar powered toys for the kiddles. But he also got me a great traditional Chinese style shirt with the high collar. Red, the traditional Chinese color, with Chinese writing. It's beautiful. It's perfect. It's just what I wanted.




There's just one problem...



What are the chances?


(I also suspect that somewhere in China, a bunch of clothing vendors are laughing their butts off because the "Chinese writing" on the shirt is actually just a bunch of scribbles, the kind I would make if someone said, "Here, make some Chinese symbols for this shirt." As they drink their Oolong tea, the vendors are giggling, "How many American tourists do you think we can fool with this shirt?" "Arr of them!" the another one chuckles. Touché, China. Touché.)

Self-deprication Is Funny

Big Daddy finally decided to get into Facebook this week. Among other things, he updated it with this picture and caption, which I just had to share...


"Sitting on a boat kind of makes you look like a douche. Do it wearing plaid shorts. . .you're the mayor of Doucheville. Nice collar Mr. Mayor."

Miracle on 300 North Street

My husband is building a Pinewood Derby car for my nephew, who lives in Texas. No, my nephew is not in a single parent home without a father. And no, he's not mechanically challenged either (though he is 9, and that is a challenge of its own). No, my husband just happens to have a completely out of control obsession with building Pinewood Derby cars. I know what you must be thinking. "Wait. Your husband is 37 and your son is 2. Why would he be building Pinewood Derby cars at all?" Well, it all started when the Elder's Quorum decided to have their own Pinewood Derby about 5 years ago. No rules about weight and materials. No rules at all other than "There can't be a motor." Well, my creative, mechanical, bored husband got to work researching what makes for the fastest Pinewood Derby cars. He spent hours pouring over plans and photos, reading blogs and articles, visiting hobby shops and websites. Finally, he started. On Prototype # 1. Seven or eight prototypes later, he was ready to race. His car was made of a special wood that was light, yet flexible (Not pine. Oh no, not even close). It had carefully filed down wheels (three of them--don't ask). It had suspension. It had hot molten lead poured into various parts of its thinly sliced and carved chassis (Impressed? That's what happens when you have to listen to hours of Pinewood Derby ideas bounced off you. You learn fancy words like chassis.) Anywho, the car was a huge success. So huge, in fact, that it not only beat every other car that raced that day, but it also beat the all-time fastest record in the track's history. Result? No more Elders Quorum Pinewood Derbies. No one wanted to compete against a fanatic like that again. So now my Big Daddy takes out his racing fervor on the young, naive boys in our extended family.

The topic of this post, however it unlikely it must seem now, is actually not my husband or his engineering prowess. It is actually to tell you about a miracle that just occurred. My husband had to head to the hardware store for more Pinewood Derby supplies, and he took BOTH of our kids with him. He just took them and left. And now I am at my own house ALL BY MY SELF. This has never happened before. Ever. Not since we had our first child. I don't even know what to do with myself! ( Yes I do. Blog like a man woman, of course!) It's such a wonderful, liberating feeling to be here with no one else. I might drink a full Coke. I might take a long nap (well, a 40 minute nap, at least). I might blog the ENTIRE TIME with no one to ask me for drinks, or help with the potty, or to find their missing Polly Pocket, or to turn on Diego, or to make me feel guilty about sitting on my butt and staring at the computer. Or... I might just sit here and listen to the silence. It is heaven. It is wonderful. It is a miracle.

My Little Ghoul

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!!!!



I know it sucks to have your birthday on a day when you have to share it with ghosts, vampires, bats, skulls, kids, costumes, parties, trick or treating, handing out candy, and everything else NOT focused on you. But I wanted you to know that I think you are amazing, excellent, awesome, smart, funny, very funny, helpful, ingeneous, creative, hardworking, kind, generous, sexy, unique, and wonderful. You are good at everything you do (except drumming) and impress me time and time again with how smart you are. You're the best dad I've ever met, seen, or heard of in my whole life. Your fajitas rock. Your hands and feet are beautiful. Your knowledge of 70's rock is unparalleled. Your beard is so multi-colored. Your driving is nearly as good as mine. You sleep quietly and don't snore (that's a big one). You do all the fix-it jobs around the house so I don't have to. And you take super good care of me. I'm lucky to have you.



Love,

Wifey
















p.s. You're super old.

No Chance of Recovery

Big Daddy told me this story last night over dinner. I laughed. I laughed some more. I laughed until milk dribbled from the corners of my mouth and the kids began to look worried, like something might be seriously wrong with me. But I kept laughing. Soon I wasn't making any noise--just silently shaking, tears straming down my cheeks. And then, as I continued to eat and pictured the scenario in his story again and again, I continued to laugh off and on. This lasted about 20 minutes before I got it out of my system. Now I just hope I can do the story justice as I retell it here. (Told from Big Daddy's perspective).

So I went to the video store with Daphne tonight. And as we were walking through the kids aisles checking out the movies, a young, hot, early 20's to late teens girl walked by us. She smiled at me. I think she thought I was kind of cute. I was feeling pretty smooth. Just then Daphne said in a loud clear voice to me, "Daddy, I tooted!!" I closed my eyes in shame, hoping the girl hadn't heard. I was just about to turn to check when Daphne continued, "Just like you!!"

I didn't even bother to turn around after that. There was no need. Game over.

David Sedaris, Hobbit Extraordinaire

Big Daddy's birthday is on Halloween. That usually makes for a very lame birthday for him. We're always busy handing out fistfuls of candy to the six kids who come through our neighborhood,then carting our kiddles out to show off their costumes to the relations, and bribing them to keep their headpieces on long enough for Grandma and Aunt Marin to see. So this year I took the opportunity to get him a premature present: tickets to see David Sedaris in concert last night at Abravenel Hall. I'm SO glad I did. The tickets weren't cheap. Not even close. I got them through the KUER fund drive and I had to pledge my third child to get them. But the seats were fantastic. Fourth row, dead center. I'm actually glad they weren't closer or we wouldn't have been able to see David Sedaris over the podium. He's not tall, in case my title didn't tip you off. Anyway, he was all that AND a bag of chips. If you ever have a chance to see him live, DO IT. You will not regret it. You never thought watching someone read could be so entertaining.

Here's a clip...
(The post-production visuals are kind of distracting, so feel free to turn away and just listen.)

What a Man...

I love that my husband knows me. He knows I don't want trite red roses. He knows I would cry if the bouquet had baby's breath. There are no stupid teddy bears or cheap heart shaped chocolates around here. Just a perfect bouquet of multi-colored tulips. They're exactly what I wanted. He's awesome. In the world of En Vogue "What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man (background : a mighty mighty good man). That just dated me, huh?

We're doing our usual non-romantic Valentine's Day evening tonight: our Annual Anti-Valentine's Day Party. I think this is our 4th or 5th one. This year, however, we got smart and rented a place to do it. One of the biggest headaches about having a party is spending days trying to get Hurricane Daphne and Typhoon Beck's messes under control as well as the daily messes of Mommy and Daddy. Then there's the mess to clean up afterward. So this year we decided to spare ourselves the biggest source of stress, and we got a room at Noah's. You just show up with your food, party, and leave. They clean up after you. The room has a huge plasma TV, couches, chairs, a mini-kitchen, and a pool table. And plenty of parking. It should be awesome. It's going to break my diet, but I can splurge for a night, right?

And here's this for Valentine's Day...

My Candy Heart Says "First Kiss"

You're a true romantic who brings an innocent hope to each new relationship. You see the good in every person you date, and you relish each step of falling in love. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: a romantic dinner your sweetie cooks for you Your flirting style: friendly and sweet What turns you off: cynics who don't believe in romance Why you're hot: you always keep the romance alive

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?