And so it begins...

They've started...already.

School projects which are 25 % student, 75% parent.

Ugh. I'll be doing this until I die, won't I?

When we received the assignment (and when I say "we" I don't mean that figuratively), I turned it over to Steve. Not up my alley. The task at hand...a receycled pet. 1. I don't do pets 2. I'm constantly berated for my stance, so 3. I felt this was an opportunity for Steve and Shannon to bond over their mutual disdain for my position.

Get to work guys. I'll see you later.

The result...Chase, Shannon's dog. But, no, the project wasn't enough. There needed to be a pet show.

A gathering of parents to congratulate each other on their creative abilities. Poor Steve couldn't make it. He has a job and all. Thus leaving the task to Adam and me to show our support.

There was singing.

Introductions.

Awards.

Ok, it was kinda cute. I'll have a better attitude next time, but I'll still make Steve do it.

On the tight wad scale, I'd rank myself at a 6.9. Steve might argue it's closer to a 9.2. My parents would place me at a healthy 7.8 My point is that, across the board, I'm above average in the penny pinchin' category. So what, you may wonder, is my breaking point? The point when I throw my hands up in the air and say, "Enough. The opportunity cost is too high. I quit!"

This, my friend, is my breaking point...

For a 2 year old boy, winters in Iowa seem to drag on and on. But for a mother of a 2 year old boy in Iowa, winters last an eternity. Most keep their sanity by running off to a warm, tropical region mid-February, but instead a few days of escape, I chose to take a fraction of the cost and invest it in a YMCA membership. Daily moments of peace for me and my active little buddy...because, let's face it, his little body is exploding with the energy of a split atom...get it Atom...Adam...

Ok...moving on.

I can only handle so many sharpie incidents to the doors or moments when I realize we've spent too much time together, such as this...

Turn that finger around little boy. I never taught you to apply mascara.

Although I get the most use from the pass, Adam loves his "Little Beats" classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays (free to members!)

Hit is Adam. Get all the pent up frustration out. Beat'em, bust'em, that's our custom. Go Adam.

Sorry, my inner high school cheerleader was surfacing.

Run, Adam, run!

Faster. Faster. Mommy wants an afternoon nap!

And, if Little Beats hasn't tuckered him out to my standards, we head over to the gym for a little b'ball.

Sometimes he'll run the lines.

But we always leave the court the way we found it.

Shannon will be starting swimming lessons this week. At this rate we'll all be in bed by 7 pm every night.

Money well spent!

Valentines Day

Bare with me and keep repeating the phrase, “Better late than never” or “we love Melissa in spite of her copious flaws. To love her is to love all of her, including her inability to post in a timely manner.”

Now, don’t we both feel better?

Valentines Day…the day of love. Amore. Sugar. Red. Doilies. Cards.

Where to begin? For me, it was breakfast. I’ve check out the cookbook Gale’s Brunches no less than 3 times from the library and couldn’t find a reason to make chocolate waffles…until now. So the menu read as follows…

Chocolate waffles topped with vanilla yogurt and strawberry freezer jam accompanied by a Clementine Izzy’s beverage in a fancy cup with a fun straw. Forgive my ignorance…is Izzy’s technically a soda? It’s mostly fruit juice, but carbonated none the less. Oh, well…what’s done is done.

The differences in my children were radiating…Shannon = ate her entire waffle, and then some…but stated that the juice was too spicy and barely touched it. Adam = started drinking and didn’t not remove the straw from his lips until ever last drop was in his round belly…then ate 2 bites of his waffle.

The rest of the day was routine,..until I told the kids we were heading to Target for some errands. Yes, we went to Target, but then to Steak N Shake for dinner.

In writing this post I now realize that too much of our lives revolve around food. But, in my defense, we rarely go out to eat so it did make the day more memorable.

*please note the first reason we do not eat out often is for financial reason. However, a close second is Adam's behavior. Steak N Shake was almost to fancy for him. To be embarrassed in a Steak N Shake...a new low.

Steve purchased each of us a card. My card read as follows...

I got a gift

something ever so small

it's just what you wanted

nothing at all!

...with a return receipt for a pair of earrings. When I looked him square in the eyes that morning, he knew I meant it when I said, "No spending money!" Apparently Steve was the first person ever to enter a jewelry store on Valentines Day to make a return.

Have we ever been normal?

What Iowans do best

Greek yogurt.

My new obsession.

Too many things to love.

One thing I'm not too keen on...the price.

But I live in Iowa...land of health and do it yourself, so I knew it wasn't above me.

A little research, a little milk, a big Crockpot and voila...

it was ridiculously easy.

And, if you don't mind a slight smell of spit up in your house, you can use a coffee filter to drain the whey, leaving you homemade Greek yogurt.

Next challenge...pie crust. I had a little help from St. Kim. Easy as pie...please note the peach pie filling I canned last summer as well as the sign that hangs in my kitchen. I'm so Iowan!

Not to be outdone by his little wife, Steve's craving for white bread resulted in this...

Mmm...bravo Honey!

Just thought I should mention why we haven't blogged in a while.

Me Help You...

Love hurts, especially when it’s coming from Adam. His two year old mentality has yet to grasp the concept of his 4 year old physique.

“Me help you!” A bittersweet phrase. My initial thoughts are, “How sweet. My little man is learning to serve.”

But then reality kicks in, or its Adam kicking, either way I realize that my task at hand will take twice as long; there will be some form of additional clean up involved, property damage of some sort, and Adam will injure himself or someone else in the process.

"Sigh"

But I do want a young man who helps around the house one day, so I guess I should encourage him when he’s willing to try.

"Sigh"

But every now and then, I mellow and time permits the two of us to bond over a mundane task. Today’s task…making cupcakes for Shannon’s school party. Not too hard to impress that group, so a little Adam magic wouldn’t hurt anyone.

I think I changed his clothes 3x that day. But note…he was wearing dark apparel so as to mask chocolate stains. I’m a thinker.

Reaping rewards. The beaters were hot commodities growing up. As a mother, I must sacrifice for my children.

I will scrape the residue off the sides of the bowl…or purposefully leave a few tablespoons of batter at the bottom for me.

My apologies to my friends who cringe at the sight of raw eggs being consumed. I could tell you stories of things my grandpa sees as “fit to eat” that would make your skin crawl and keep you up at night.

“Here mommy.”

“Here.”

“I share.”

Thank you Adam… this camera lens has been craving chocolate all day.

In the end, even with the copious amounts of scrubbing....both Adam and the kitchen, there are sweet rewards. While I treasure the peaceful moments we spent together, he appreciates the edible results.

All is well with the world:)

Wolf man

He does this every time.

Fight. Kick. Scream.

We respond by...

Bribing with candy. Turning on Veggie Tales. Strapping him down.

Not ideal, but it gets the job done.
The results are always the same...wolf man. How does one's hair grow at such an alarming rate? My guess...superhero gummy vitamins.

A Southerner in a Snow Storm

I had heard about the impending storm for over a week. When the locals get scared…I get scared.

No, that’s not true…I panic!

I made Steve stop for milk. We already had 3 dozen eggs in the fridge and a fresh loaf of homemade whole wheat bread as well. We raided two Redboxes plus the local library for DVD’s. Shannon school enacted early dismissal. Steve came home from work at 3pm. We ate pizza, swam in the hot tub, watched movies…and waited.

When the snow began to fall, I could feel my stress level rising. I didn’t know what to expect. It didn’t help that I was constantly checking the internet and every homepage mentioned the Midwest being slammed with a blizzard or the people buried in their cars as they attempted to drive home.

Blizzard. A word I had heard before but never fully understood… until today.

Swirling snow.

The word “blustery” came to mind…which Steve informed me was not really a word, but

I swear I read it in a Winnie the Pooh book long ago. Regardless of its validity, it seemed to sum up the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But, I had to sleep.

When I awoke, I looked out the window with hesitation; utterly afraid of what I might see.

Now, I have a fairly active imagination. However, remember that I had never experienced a blizzard before. In this case, my imagination failed to prepare me.

Loser

The scene before me was indescribable

…unimaginable

…white.

Where was my mailbox?

oh, there you are.

Where was the car?

I think that's it.

Why was there a white curtain hanging from the roof?What was this?

Oh yeah, my first blizzard.

Steve began an attempt to carve his way to his car while I spent an eternity outfitting the kids in snow pants, hats, gloves, scarves, socks, boots, etc.

Shannon reverted to her happy place and grabbed a sand bucket…she was at the beach, building sand castle. Or in reality, a snow castle. Adam… he became the quintessential 2 year old who quickly became annoyed by his gloves, which stifled his creativity, ditched them, froze within seconds, began crying in pain, snot flowing, and finally had to be carried inside by Mommy for some cartoons. Still not one to be content, he cried at the door, disappointed that he was not included in the excavation activities.
After we cleared our driveway and helped a neighbor do the same, I took a quick walk to the grocery store for some guacamole. Yes, guacamole. Something tropical. Something on sale. Something to get me out of the house. Steve made an appearance at work, grabbed a few projects and clocked out before the roads began to freeze for the evening. At home and we homemade snow crème and salted caramel sauce while we congratulated ourselves on surviving our first of many blizzards. Salute!

Mmm, snow creme. Whipped it up, stored it on the deck. What? My freezer was full. My deck is what I call my "Iowa freezer". Best way to get your soup frozen flat in a ziplock bag.