Happy New Year!

I have lots to post about from over the holidays, but there's no time for that right now so I'm just going to post this video of Finley from this morning. If you can ignore the gross, runny nose and the rash on her face (that is like WAY better by the way, you should have seen it before!), this video could just be cute.

I hope you all have a wonderful New Year! I have big plans for this year, and since it is the last year on earth, I plan to go out with a bang. How about you??

Why I don't bake

This is why I don't bake. No matter what I do, however closely I follow a recipe, my deserts just don't turn out "right". I tried to surprise Bean with some peanut butter cookies for when he came home from work today and this is what he got. One large peanut patty.



The patty was a little crispy but when accompanied by a big glass of milk, entirely edible. At least I tried, right?

Pictures with Santa!

So tonight we decided to go visit Santa at the mall and get our pictures taken. We originally tried to time it so we would get there before Santa went on break, but I had to run to UPS which was a madhouse before we left, so we got off to a late start, as per usual (see below). So we decided to go to Olive Garden ahead of time, get some din, and then go see the Santa.

The Olive Garden was dead, which was awesome because Fin has a tendency to scream, so the less people to annoy, the better. The meal was going along just fine and I had just finished exclaiming what a good eater Fin was being when I heard that familiar guttural sound followed by the choking sound that signals vomit is about to happen. I instinctively cup my hands under her chin and catch the vomit. I am amazing at catching vomit. If I ever have one of those "woe is me" days where I'm complaining that I'm not good at stuff, remind me to revisit this post to remember that vomit catching is my thing. Anyway, the waitress just happened to choose that moment to check on our table and we freeze, me with my hands full of vomit, and Bean chewing on a bread stick looking back and forth between the waitress and the vomit. We pretend nothing has happened and keep as still as possible, hoping she won't notice. She asks if she can get us anything, and we just sit there frozen and say, "Nope nope, we're good! Thanks!". She walks away but then just silently slips a stack of napkins on our table 30 seconds later. Best waitress ever.

Even with my amazing vomit catch, vomit still gets on Finley's shirt. We didn't come prepared with a backup though, so I just button up her sweater and dab her with some hand sanitizer to help cover the vomit odor and hope Santa doesn't notice.

So we get to the mall and see the line is wrapped all the way around Santa's Wonderland. We hop in line, and immediately a woman who is very clearly treading a thin line between sanity and insanity comes up to me with one hand on her hip and the other pointing at me like a scary old bitty and shrieks, "Excuse me! But the line starts BACK THERE and we were waiting here first!". Did I mention she was shaking as she said this? When people get all confrontational with me, I have this thing I do where I get super extra nice. Like when I'm driving and people give me the finger and I just smile and laugh. It's fun and throws them off. So I just apologize profusely and make a joke about how it's Monday (ah! crazy Mondays! Everyone can agree that Mondays make you crazy, right?). So we move back to the end of the line which I hadn't realized wrapped even further around Santa's Wonderland than originally thought, and wait. And wait and wait.

Soon Finley has had enough waiting and Bean and I take turns taking her for walks in circles around Santa's Wonderland. One of my favorite things about walking around places like the mall with Finley is what grabs her attention. For instance, there was a whole display of presents, and fake snow and twinkling lights and a dancing bear, but Fin only had eyes for the discarded tissue on the ground. Babies.

So it's finally our turn to see Santa, and Bean sticks Fin on his lap (as I secretly pray he can't smell her vomit-y stench) and immediately operation "get the hell out of Santa's lap" begins. Fin is not happy and Santa is struggling. And I just start laughing. Because I'm an evil mother and my child screaming on the lap of a bearded man in red is hilarious to me. The woman with the clapper behind the camera is working overtime trying to get Fin to smile but she just isn't having it. We remove Fin from Santa, and get in line to buy our photo. We spend almost $40 for the 2 images below. I'm really impressed with Santa. He really pulled it out. Fin, needs some work. Next year we'll start preparing early. Until then, I pretty much love these photos.

What's really going on in a toddler's brain

My sister showed me this the other day and it just cracks me up. I don't think it could be any more accurate. My favorites are the Muppet Appreciation Lobe and the Worthwhile Food Cortex.

The best sound in the world

Little Fin has a fever of 102.5 right now, but I managed to get a giggle out of her for a few minutes. Shaking our heads back and forth is hilarious!!



Happy Friday!

Tantrums

Sometimes I feel like this too when things don't go my way. Poor goldfish. Am I a bad mother for laughing? Probably. This is from tonight's dinner. I caught the end of one tantrum, as we smoothly transitioned right into a second tantrum. Ah, motherhood.

Fin's first work of art

OK, to be honest this is actually her second piece of art. Her school is keeping her first piece in her special Fin binder.



Now I'm not saying my kid is an artistic genius or anything (I mean, why overstate the obvious), but the interesting organic shapes and impeccable paint application, not to mention use of glitter to enhance the mood of the piece, really showcase her amazing talents here. Wouldn't you agree?

The Feud

So Bean and I have this ongoing feud every Christmas regarding Christopher Columbus and George Washington. What do Columbus and Washington have to do with Christmas you ask? Well I'll tell you. In the kids version of Rudoph the Red Nosed Reindeer where all the "funny" lines are added in, there is a line at the end that goes like this:

"Then how the reindeer loved him
loved him
As they shouted out with glee
Yippee!
Rudolph the red nosed reindeer
Reindeer...
You'll go down in HIS-TOR-YYYY!
Like Columbus!"

or if you are Bean... "Like George Washington!"

Now I don't know what sort of humor they are teaching kids up in north Jersey, but I can tell you that George Washington just doesn't work. His name has too many syllables, it doesn't flow with the song, and Columbus is way more historic than George Washington. He discovered America for flips sake! What did George Washington do? He was our first President you say? Eh. Back then they were letting just about anyone become President. (I'm looking at you Millard Fillmore.)

Bean adamantly disagrees. He says everyone he knows says George Washington. So we called some people he knows. He was right, they say George Washington. Which doesn't prove anything other than that they are also wrong.

So help us end this feud once and for all. We are taking a poll. What did you grow up singing??

Cooking?

I don't cook. Well, that's not entirely true. I WILL cook, I just don't like it. Nothing about cooking is desirable to me. I have zero patience for it. There's an annoying recipe you have to follow, weird ingredients that I don't know, it takes forever and it makes a huge mess. Not fun. Now if I'm going somewhere fancy and need to impress, I'll do my part and whip up a box o' brownies. No problem. But dinner and the like, no thanks. I could literally eat take-out 100% of the time and be totally happy. However, now I have this baby (see vomit post below) who requires nutrition and such, so I've taken a little stab at cooking lately.

I take this stab at cooking about every 3-4 months or so. It lasts about 2, maybe 3 days, and I'm usually over it. My mom gets so excited when I tell her I'm on one of my cooking kicks. She instantly whips into a frenzy and starts calling me with all her "easy to make" recipes and I play my part and pretend I'm writing them down. Now, "easy to make" to me is no more than 3 ingredients. Chicken, salt, pepper. Done. Once she gets past 3 ingredients I have checked out of the conversation and start looking through my google reader. And the second she mentions the words "crock pot", I'm out. Those things always seem to need 8+ ingredients. No thanks, crock pot.

So in my latest cooking kick (which started and ended yesterday), I happened upon a drawer in our kitchen that is jammed full of strange utensils. Some of the utensils were familiar. There was a spatula, and one of those wooden sticks with a flat rubber part at the top that's good for scraping bowls when making the fancy brownies. Is that also called a spatula? I honestly can't remember. Anyway, I came across a few items as I went through the drawer yesterday that I have NO idea what they are. For serious. So maybe some of you can help.

First up we have....this:



Do not be fooled by the exciting orange color or the soft plastic look. This thing is sharp! What are you, thing?

Second:



Now this just looks inappropriate, right? What is it?!

Third:



I'm tempted to say this is a whisk, but I'm thrown off by the futuristic balls on the ends. Whisk or no?

Fourth:



What in the world...???

Last but not least:



A paintbrush? To be fair, it's entirely possible this found it's way into the drawer from the garage by mistake, but if that's not the case...then, why is this?

Typical morning with Fin

I have a throw-y up-y kid. She throws up a lot, usually in the car when we're on the highway and there's like a 2 foot wide shoulder to pull over in. This happened multiple times this past summer on our way down the shore. The best time was when we pulled over and were forced to stand in the tall grass right next to the road as we changed Fin and wiped down the car, only to discover getting back in the car that we were covered in ticks. Since we didn't realize the tick situation until we were once again driving, and there was no where else to pull over for many miles unless we wanted more ticks, we devised a plan to contain the ticks in empty water bottles. It was touch and go there for a while as I was screaming while trying to drive straight and Bean was pulling ticks off the two of us and sticking them in the water bottles. Have I mentioned how much I love my husband? Anyway, I don't know what the average amount of throw up for a kid is, so who knows, maybe Fin's normal. The doctor doesn't seem too concerned. I think she just has a weak stomach like her mom (that's me).

Anyway, the other morning I was taking a little video of Fin on my phone and got the following, which is pretty much the most awesome video ever. The timing is epic. (Note: if you don't like throw up, don't watch this video).