There's 2 for Every 1

Bullying.  It's a constant worry of mine.  I don't ever want my kids to be on the receiving end of a bully.  Obviously I don't want my kids to be the bully either.

My daughter has had an issue in the past with a girl in the past.  The girl pulled away my daughter's friend and told my daughter she couldn't play with them.  Yes, my girl was hurt by this, but at the same time, she was able to move on.  I hate the term "popular", but at times it seems to fit.  If someone doesn't want to play with GG she finds another friend to play with.  And quick.  Older, younger, green, purple, boy girl - it doesn't matter.


Earlier this week, there were Talent Show auditions for the fourth and fifth graders at my kids' school.  I'm not sure why elementary kids need to "try out" for a talent show, but that's another story for another day.

This same day, I had a Macaroni Kid event to work at a local restaurant.  Since there is construction everywhere I turn, I wanted to make sure we left by a certain time to avoid being late.  Very unprofessional.

As we were waiting for my daughter to perform her dance routine with a friend, I asked when they were scheduled to go on.  I was told last.  Glancing at the clock, I asked GG to ask if she could perform a tad earlier in the line up.  She confidently walked into the gym to ask the teachers in charge.  When she returned to the hallway, I saw it.  Proof that for every 1 bully, there are at least 2 good kids.

GG walked out into the hallway, head down, and was instantly surrounded by every kid in the hallway.  Most were in fifth grade.  Some were in sixth grade, there helping younger siblings.  I didn't recognize any of those kids as her friends or siblings of her friends, but there they were, comforting my daughter.

GG said the teachers wouldn't listen to her.  She misunderstood me and thought we had to leave "right now". She wasn't going to be able to try out for the show.  I reassured her we still had plenty of time.  As I explained this, one boy explained that he plays an instrument.  Dance routines always try out before instruments.  Another girl, I believe from the middle school, came up and hugged my daughter.

Lately I have seen more and more kids being disrespectful to their friends as well as their parents.  I have seen kids clearly misbehaving in front of their parents, who do nothing to correct the poor behavior.  This group of kids, showing support and encouragement to a younger girl, made me forget all about that.  There were no parents around to encourage them to show their support.  There were no kids laughing or pointing at my daughter for crying.  There was no sense of competition that they would do better than a girl who was upset.  These kids were just there.  They were there for my daughter.

I wish I could personally thank all of those parents and let them know that there kid is proof that good kids far outnumber the bad.

People Suck

I guess I should be happy that I'm generally a nice person.  But sometimes I really wish I could be a bitch without really offending people.

So many times I want to say things to people that are anything but nice.  Tonight I wanted to say all kinds of stuff to every leader in attendance at our Girl Scout meeting.

Our meeting is scheduled until 9.  It is well after 9 so shut the fuck up so we can all go home.

Quit laughing.  It's not that funny.  Quit your high school bullshit clique crap.  If you would shut the fuck up and quit cracking jokes that no one can hear but you three, we could all go home.

Quit nit picking.  Minor details for our function at the end of next month can be discussed at the next meeting, which falls BEFORE the function.  Do we really need to figure out RIGHT NOW what you think everyone is  going to want to drink?  No, we do not.  Shut the fuck up and move on so we can go home.

As you can see "shut the fuck up" was the running line through my head.  I finally walked out of the meeting an hour after it was supposed to be over because that line was really close to beign said out loud.  It amazes me that this group of ladies can accomplish anything.  Yes we get stuff done, but it takes forever.  A caterer for this function coming up?  It took 4 months to figure out which company we were going with.  Why?  Because all the deals people found were never good enough.  What's out there that's cheaper?  Really, for what you want you can only go so low with a price.  Again, shut the fuck up!  Pick a company, designate who will call to set it up and move the fuck on.

What's the point of this post, other than shut the fuck up?  Nothing really.  But since I can't say certain things to people that probably need to hear them, you get to hear it.  Leave a comment.  Or not.  I appreciate the support, but I really don't care right now.  I just need to get this shit out of my head so I can hopefully sleep.
Some people's hot button issue is religion, or how to feed their baby, or who someone can or can't marry. Me?  It's apparently Girl Scouts.  Fucking sucks!  Let's just hope I don't have nightmares of being chased by Thin Mints.

Why you shouldn't be a prostitute

It's funny the things you see when you take your 10 year old daughter out for a shopping trip and a snack.

The husband and I have a date night this weekend and I wanted a pair of fancy black tights to go with my dress. My daughter loves to shop, even if it's just window shopping, so I took her with me.  It was a quick trip to Target, even though I did walk out with more than I planned.  A quick trip like this doesn't usually work up an appetite, but by the time GG and I hit the check out, she was "staaaarrrrrr-ving!!!"  My skinny little girl can eat like the typical teenage boy!

After paying, we headed over towards the snack bar when she said she wanted mac 'n' cheese.  You have to get the whole kids meal to get mac 'n' cheese and I wasn't doing that.  I told her we would drive down the road and stop at Sheetz.  They have mac 'n' cheese.

We drove down the road, avoiding construction cones and pot holes that seem to be on every. stinkin. road in this forsaken city.  As I went to make the turn into Sheetz, I noticed the light show provided by a local police car.  I assumed someone was pulled over for blowing a red light or speeding, but as I drove by, I noticed a young woman being cuffed.

In an effort to distract GG who likes all things sparkly and flashy, I started telling her about all the trips to Sheetz I made when I was younger and the crazy food I got with my friends.  She laughed at me, but I did not sway her from the decision to eat mac 'n' cheese.  We ordered, paid, and GG asked if we could sit at one of the tables outside so she could eat her food while it was still hot.  Assuming the light show was gone because once your arrested, everyone pretty much leaves the scene, I said yes.  I assumed wrong.

Sitting at the table outside is when I realized that we were witnessing an undercover prostitution bust.  Why?  Let me explain...

A total of 3 vehicles were pulled over.  The first, a gray car.  The driver was a plain clothed police man/  The second, a minivan.  The driver of said minivan was handed papers from the uniformed police man in vehicle number 3.  Minivan man was also told to drive off after the girl was cuffed.  Upon closer inspection of the girl, her booty shorts and too-small tank could have fit my 10 year old!  Am I again making assumptions?  Probably.  But it sure was funny watching her argue with the cops from the back of the patrol car, while trying to wriggle out of the cuffs.  I really hope the minivan man wasn't married.  Then it would be a sucky night for both of them.

I realize it's cruel of me to laugh at other's misfortune, but this situation is why you should never be a prostitute.  Or try to pick one.  Or if you are a prostitute or pick one up, don't get caught!

Ready to wash my hands

Happy anniversary to Shell and Pour Your Heart Out!

Can you believe it's been two years?

Amazing!

Not that I have anything offensive to say today, mostly because I have calmed down a lot before I started typing this out.  I'm quite proud that I didn't drop any F-bombs, because they were surely flying out my mouth left and right earlier in the evening.  But offensive or not, as always, please be respectful.


I'm a busy lady, and for the most part, I love every minute of it. The highs, the lows, the in-betweens.  No matter what, at the end of the day, I feel accomplished.  I matter.  I made a difference to someone, somewhere.

But things are starting to change.  I no longer feel accomplished in certain aspects.  I no longer feel I make a difference.  I feel frustrated.  Fed up.  Ready to wash my hands of it all.

I have been involved in Girl Scout in one way or another for a few years now.  I am now in my second year of being a leader for my daughter's troop.  It's rewarding and frustrating, but it's been fun.  Until recently.  Once a month us leaders get together for meetings to plan events and catch up on what each troop has been doing.  At first I was gung-ho about volunteering more of my time at events.  If I couldn't physically be there, I would offer suggestions to help it be a success.

A few months ago we were planning our Valentine's Father/Daughter dance.  The participation was down compared to the previous year.  Being a publisher for my local Macaroni Kid, I offered to include the dance in our list of events.  As the dance grew closer I learned that participation had increased and the girls were given a larger room at the banquet hall as a result.  Was this because of my listing in the newsletter or a result of other leaders reaching out to troops in surrounding neighborhoods?  I do not know.  All of the thanks was given to the leader coordinating the event.  No thanks were given to those other leaders who helped spread the word.

Lack of appreciation makes me want to volunteer less of my time.  Right then I decided that I would focus more of my time on my own troop instead of the group as a whole.  Selfish?  Yes, but if little or no effort is made to individually thank those who go above and beyond, why bother?

Just I became accustomed to the level of volunteering I was willing to give, cookie sales came around.  Getting those delicious cookies to our area was a living nightmare!  That's a story for another time, but that should have given me a heads up that this whole process was also going to be a nightmare.

We all know how delicious Girl Scout cookies are.  What I can't figure out is why none of those who realize that live anywhere close to me.  Our troop has had great success the past two years with our sales.  We would hold booth sales to make extra profit and those also went well.  Silly us, we assumed this year would be the same.  It is not.  If you are friends with me on Facebook, I'm sure you have noticed me begging people to buy cookies.  We have not sold as many as expected and therefor might owe instead of receive a profit.

To say selling cookies this year has been stressful would be the understatement of the year.  I understand that there are only so many cookies close friends and family are willing to buy.  I don't expect them to go broke trying to help me and my co-leader out, but that won't stop me from bitching about my frustrations.  Which is exactly what I did to a family member.  Her response to my venting was "Lesson learned".

There was no lesson being taught so there was nothing for us to learn.  And really, why would you say that to someone frustrated beyond belief about the situation they are in?  It certainly won't help matters.  It will only make them worse.

Just as I was learning to manage any frustrations I had with Girl Scouts, these cookies came along and became the straw that is about to break my back.  I do not want to let anyone down, least of all my own daughter, but I cannot take much more of this.  My house is a nightmare.  I have barely spent any time with my kids.  I've been staying up later than I should trying to work with the hopes of making a buck or two.

I love being busy.  I love being involved in the lives of my kids and the community.  But I'm not sure how much I can take.


*For most of today,  I won't be around.  I will respond to comments and return visits, but I will need some time.  We are making a last ditch effort to get rid of these cookies.  I hope they all go into the hands of someone else and we can put an end to cookie sales for the year.  That would make the straw on my back feel not as heavy, but my frustrations will still be there.*

I'd congratulate myself, but...

There are many things in this world I will never understand. Some I try to learn more about, while others there is no hope for understanding. One of those things I will never understand is why some people do not think before they speak. Or in this case, type.

I understand that many things, especially online, can easily be taken out of context. What one person meant as a joke another takes as an insult. I also understand that people are curious and ask questions they do not find inappropriate in the slightest. And these are the people who do not understand that all of one's friends will read what you post on their Facebook page.

This past weekend, my family and I went to see the Nuclear Cowboyz motocross show. We had a fantabulous time. I'll share more about that another time (or you can read my review here <--shameless plug!). During the intermission I was using my phone to browse Facebook. I noticed that a friend had posted to my wall. Usually this means I've been invited to XYZ group that I have no interest in, but I clicked over to see what she had to say anyway. This friend was wishing me a happy upcoming birthday. That was the cherry that topped off the night!'

The following morning I logged onto Facebook. I noticed that someone else had posted on my wall. Noticing who posted on my wall made me shake my head and think "Now what?" This lady is a former coworker. She is sweet as pie, but has no filter and can be thick as a brick at times. I wondered if maybe it was her telling me about our grocery store having some new flavor of ice cream on sale. Yes, she has posted that kind of stuff before.

I click over to my wall when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a happy birthday message and a puzzling question... "when is #3 making an appearance?"

Wait, what? I'm pregnant?! I wish someone would have told me. Oh, wait, this friend just did! I would congratulate myself, if it wasn't for the fact that I am NOT expecting. Nor do we have any plans of adding to our family.

Perhaps because her daughter just had her third child and both of our oldest two are the same ages, she expected me to also be ready to add another bundle of joy. Or perhaps, like the diaper companies who like to send me free samples, she has some misconception about who is expecting and who is not. Um... I'm in the NOT category.

Now don't get me wrong, I have no problems discussing whether or not we are expanding our family, but I prefer to have that conversation face-to-face. Or, apparently, on my blog. But just coming out and asking me on my Facebook wall? That rubs me the wrong way.

Yes, I could have deleted the post, but I replied to set the record straight. I was waiting to see if she would reply to my reply, but so far, no dice. Also, I just deleted a comment from this friend on a recent picture I posted. I felt a little guilty.

When it comes to your family size, how do you handle people questioning it at the wrong time or place?

Completely unrelated - I may have a bit of a Facebook addiction!

I am a hollow reed

Trouble blows through me like the wind.

A friend and I would say this all the time, but mostly when we were teenagers, standing in line for the newest roller coaster that was really fast and turned you upside down.

Being a hollow reed is a good motto to live by. When things get tough, stop and breathe. Relax and your troubles will flow out like the wind through that reed.

But lately things are different. My reed seems to be getting clogged. At times I'm not even sure a light breeze would flow through it.

Some days are fine, but others are not. On those bad days, I feel my world is closing in. One task is due this day, another is due that day. Homework needs checked, laundry needs done. Holy shit the kids need to back up out of my face because, oh my god, I need to find something nutritious for my family to eat for dinner!

A long, hot shower used to isolate me from it all and grant me the time I needed to refocus. That no longer works. My crochet projects that I wold work on every night to soothe my mind and calm my nerves - I am slowly losing the desire to finish any project I have started. This leads to nagging by a child if the project is for them. And that leads to more clenched knuckles and visions of red.

At first I thought it was adding a new job to my already full plate. It was a new task so naturally that must be the straw that's about to break my back. But it's not. I absolutely love my job as a Macaroni Kid publisher. I have an amazing group of women I can go to for support and my partner who started the newsletter for our area is nothing short of amazing. Like me, she knows the work that needs done. She also understands that having families can make those deadlines a bit more flexible.

Since it's not my new job, perhaps it is Girl Scouts that is starting to burn me out. With new books and new badges, it's a learning process for us all. The troop is small, but don't let those girls fool you. They can be quite trying. I'm not a big drinker, but something with an umbrella sounds very appealing after I return home from a meeting.

If it's not Girl Scouts, perhaps it's family things. I hate the house we live in, but it's anything but easy to just pick up and move. Paying for mistakes from our pasts is something we must do, and we are, but it is trying. The brakes squealed on the car yesterday. Does this mean we need to put off new glasses for me or replacing my computer for yet another month?

Are things as bad in reality as they are in my head? Probably not. But having too many things on my plate and constant dialogues running through my head reminding me what needs done makes it feel really bad.

I am stuck at a crossroads. I know I need to take a new path. One not riddled with anxiety. I also know I can't take everything on my plate with me down that path. But what needs to stay behind?

I need to find a way to let that breeze once again flow through my reed.

I understand, but stop

If nothing else, I have learned that after school pick-up is a great place to gather blogging material. And since I'm too nice of a person to actually say "Shut the fuck up" to some one's face, I turn to this lovely blog.

Dear mother of my daughter's friend,

I understand your frustrations. I went through the same thing last school year with my daughter. I know that you are not exaggerating when you say it took hours to rid your own daughter's hair of lice. And then you had to do the same with your 2 other children, also in school. It's a long process. It's gross. I understand where you are coming from. But I have to draw the line somewhere.

Yesterday you informed me that 2 of your 3 had lice again. Perhaps you didn't get it all on the first round or maybe the child your got it from wasn't properly treated. I'll never know. Marching up to me and saying you are not bringing your kids back to this "fucking school" until "every child has been fucking checked"- that is where I draw the line. There's frustrated (rightfully so) and inappropriate.

I guess you didn't notice that most of the elementary kids were running past you as you were dropping F-bombs left and right. Other parents waiting for their kids could also hear you. Not only could a child run home and drop the F-bomb for their parents, but you may very well have started a panic. Parents panicked and unnecessarily treated their kids earlier in the year. Hearing your rant is going to make this possible panic all that much worse.

I'm frustrated as well, and trust me, there will be hell raised if one of my children come home with lice, but right now, I am not the person you need to go off on. For the sake of avoiding mass hysteria, I really hope you take my advice and talk to the proper people, ie. not me. The principal, the school board, the superintendent, I don't care. Just not me.

Sincerely,

The mom of your daughter's friend who is fucking sick of bugs in the school, but can't do much beyond keeping them away from her own kids.

Check out Shell at Things I Can't Say for more info

I wish

In my life I have wished for many things, but never in my life have I wished to be sick. Not "on my deathbed" sick, just sick enough where my head is clogged and I can't smell a thing.

To be sick this kind of sick is what I wished for the other night.

One of my goals for this year is to be more on top of cleaning. It's not that I don't clean the house. I do. But I always feel like I am playing catch up. Over Christmas break I found a cleaning chart on Pinterest. I will elaborate on this chart in another post, but it breaks down which chore to do on which day. It is so easy to follow, but I started off on the wrong foot with it last week. Everything went downhill after that.

By Saturday night everything had caught up with me. My mind was all over the place and I had trouble focusing on just one thing. I finally said "Fuck it" and plopped my butt on the couch with a pack of chocolate chip cookies and some episodes of Big Bang Theory. I stayed up much later than I should have. Finally at 1 in the morning I decided to call it a night. Morning?

When I reached the fifth or sixth step going upstairs, I smelled it. Shit. That's what I said and yes, that's what it was. I was hoping and praying that my son had gotten up to use the bathroom and did a poor job of wiping himself. Needless to say, I was wrong. Oh so wrong.

You see, my boy has issues with certain dairy products. He can drink milk, he can have ice cream, he can eat a piece of cake covered with frosting. But too much of a good thing and we're in trouble.

Once I got to my son, who happened to be sleeping on the floor, I realized just how much chocolate strawberry milk he had been drinking the past few days. Obviously the answer was too much. Cleaning up that mess and having to give my boy a bath was the last thing I wanted to do at 1 in the morning.

What I can't figure out is how the husband didn't realize what had happened way before 1 in the morning. When I questioned him, he replied that his sinuses have been ridiculously stuffed up.

And that, my friends, is why I wish I was sick too. And maybe that the husband wasn't so he could have dealt with that mess.

Sticky Situation

I took the past week or so off from blogging. With the kids being home, it was family time. And really, who has time to read let alone post when kids are running circles around them?

Well, that and my computer died and I haven't quite adjusted to typing on my daughter's. Going from a netbook to a desktop is more of an adjustment than you would first think.

I had every intention of writing a few posts last week. Those plans got pushed back to Saturday evening while waiting for the ball to drop. Vodka got in the way of that ever happening, which pushed my writing back to Monday. My plans for Monday evening were to meet up with some lovely ladies for a nice dinner and discuss my new job. When I came home, I planned on putting to "paper" what ha been floating around in my head. And then it happened.

The text no mother wants to get. Especially a mother who went through hell and high water to get her son a toy he really wanted for Christmas - a Leappad.

I was munching on some fried calamari while waiting for my Mahi Mahi to come when I decided to check my phone. With my son having a cold, I was waiting for a text from the husband asking where the cold medicine was. I noticed that my husband had call AND left a message. Assuming someone must be really sick, but not being able to hear him talk in the restaurant, I sent a text asking "What's up?" The response I got?

"Leap pad is damned near ruined"

Hoping the husband was just blowing things out of proportion, I naturally asked why. Gum was the answer to that question.

What the hell could my boy possibly do with gum to ruin an electronic device was beyond me, and quite frankly I wasn't sure I wanted to know details. Over the next few minutes I learned that Gojo had got most of the gum off the device. That led me to believe it was ON the LeapPad and not IN it. Thank goodness!

At this point I assumed things were taken care as best as they could be and I would deal with it more when I got back home. I thought I would end the conversation with "As long as [the LeapPad] still works. Take all gum from them asap." Apparently our conversation was not over. How do I know this? Because I then learned that the gum that was stuck on my boy's face and chest WOULD NOT COME OFF!!

What the hell kind of gum was this?!

Needless to say, my son is banned from using his LeapPad until further notice and neither child is allowed to have gum for a very, very long time. I'm including my daughter in the gum banning because for all I know, she was somehow involved. Just because a 10 year old should know better does not mean they always make the right choices.

It's never a dull moment in this house, but that's not to say I didn't learn something from all of this.

1. Hide any and all electronics when I am going out for the night.

2. Hide all gum and any candy that resembles gum.

3. Vegetable oil does wonders for removing gum from plastic.

I hope your Christmas break was better than mine. I do have many happy moments from our break. I promise to share them once I find and remove all gum from this house.

How do I know?

It doesn't need to be said that, as parents, we will fight for our children. They are young, still learning. Often how they feel cannot be put into words. It is our job to make sure they succeed. It is our job to make them better when ill.

But how do we know when to fight and when to sit back and wait?


At 6, my son can give you all kinds of tips and tricks when playing Lego Pirates of the Caribbean.
Even though we are now on the same level. And I had to help him catch up to me.

He can name almost any construction vehicle, as well as explain what each one does.

He can draw a blueprint of something he wants to build and explain each step along the way.

What he cannot do is tell me why his head hurts.

Every so often, he complains of headaches after school. Sometimes he says they happen after gym or outside recess. But he cannot tell me why. He didn't fall. A friend didn't push him. He just has a headache.

At first I thought I should get his eyes checked. I know he will need glasses because, as of now, he is the only one without them in the family. But he shows no signs of needing them. He doesn't squint. His teacher hasn't mentioned him having trouble seeing the board from the back of the room. Hell, he can see things far away that I can't see and I wear glasses!


I want to fight for my child to find an answer, but I don't know where to start. Calling the doctor to say he has a headache seems a little silly. Some Tylenol and quiet time will clear that right up.

But what if there's more that I cannot see and he cannot tell me? Do I fight and risk sounding overprotective about something trivial? Or do I sit by and wait, hoping it's nothing?

How do I know?

Crack Bread

I have always been afraid of making bread. I associate making bread with yeast and needing things to rise. Those are scary concepts to me as I'm not a huge baker. Earlier this year I came across a bread recipe in a Food Network magazine my mother-in-law had laying around. I am so glad I made a copy of the recipe. It is super easy and there's a very good reason why I refer to it as Crack Bread.

Chocolate Chip Banana Bread

Ingredients

2 well ripened bananas
1 cup milk chocolate chips
1 1/4 cups flour
3/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
2 eggs
1/2 cup cooled melted butter OR vegetable oil
1/2 cup plain yogurt OR sour cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon citrus zest (optional)

Preheat oven to 350
Lightly butter one 9x5 loaf pan or three 6x3 mini pans


1. Peel and mash the bananas. I usually use a fork for this. Set aside

2. Mix all the dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl

3. In a medium bowl, whisk 2 eggs, butter/vegetable oil, yogurt/sour cream, vanilla extract and citrus zest. Stir in the mashed bananas.

4. Fold the egg and banana mixture into the dry mixture until just combined.

5. Spread the batter in the prepared pan(s). Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, about 55 minutes for a standard loaf, 35-40 minutes for mini loaves. Cool 30 minutes in the pan(s) on a rack, then turn out onto the rack to completely cool.

My Tips

I use vegetable oil instead of melted butter because melting butter is just a pain in the ass. I also use sour cream because, like bread and milk, it is a staple in our house.

Instead of buttering the loaf pan, I line it with foil. After cooling for at least 30 minutes, you can lift the bread right out of the pan and you also have one less dish to wash. Genius, right?

I have yet to try this, but if you are feeling especially ambitious, you can also make a glaze by whisking 1 cup confectioners' sugar, 2 tablespoons cocoa powder, 2 tablespoons milk, 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract and a pinch of salt. Drizzle over the cooled bread and let set, 15-20 minutes.


This bread is so rich and creamy. If it wasn't for that fact, I could very well sit my ass on the couch and eat the whole loaf.

I have a list of other ways to make this bread using different fruits and vegetables, as well as other mix-ins besides chocolate chip. Let me know if you're interested!


*Have a recipe or craft you would like to share? I would love to feature it here! Contact me at eumbel at gmail dot com*

Creamy Beef Stroganoff - recipe

Last week I wrote a post about my son cooking dinner and the reaction I got when I bragged about it. It's still a sore subject, but I have moved on. At the end of that post I promised to share the recipe last Friday.

Last week, weekend included, was the week from hell. Crazy busy doesn't even begin to describe how I was. Because of that, I'm not sure if I can make it through Christmas. So before I completely lose my mind, I want to share this recipe for beef stroganoff that I found on All Recipes. Not only is it good, but it is so easy to make. So easy, my 6 year old made. Except for cutting up the beef and the onions.


Ingredients

• 1 pound beef sirloin steak, cut into strips
• 1/2 cup chopped onions
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1/2 pound sliced fresh mushrooms
• 1/4 teaspoon pepper
• 1 (10 ounce) tub PHILADELPHIA Original Cooking Creme*
• 1/3 cup fat-free reduced-sodium beef broth
• 2 cups hot cooked noodles
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

*I used Italian Herb flavor Cooking Creme. The garlic flavor is good, too, but I would only use 1/2 of a tub mixed with 1/2 block of cream cheese. It is strong!


Directions

1. Boil noodles according to package directions.

2. Cook mean and onions in large nonstick skillet on medium heat 5 to 6 minutes, or until done. Remove from skillet; drain. Cover to keep warm.

3. Add butter to skillet; cook until melted. Add mushrooms and pepper; cook 5 to 6 minutes or until mushrooms are tender.

4. Add cooking creme; cook and stir 2 minutes. Return meat to skillet; stir in broth. Cook 5 minutes

5. Serve over noodles; sprinkle with parsley.

Serves 4

My Tips

I buy a package of pre-cut skillet steaks, roughly 1/2 pound. I cut each strip in half. This saves on time.

I also buy a package of pre-sliced and washed mushrooms. Again, a time saver!

If you decide to make this, I'd love to hear what you think of this meal!

hosted by Amy from Keeping up with the Schultz Family

Top 9 Christmas Songs

Because I can't think of a tenth. So sue me- I've been busy.

I love Christmas as much as the next person. I also love Christmas music. As long as it isn't played until after turkey day! Yesterday, KLZ from Taming Insanity posted a list of her top 10 Christmas songs. She listed some of my favorites, but it inspired me to make a list of my own.

With a twist of course. Enjoy!


1. The Grinch- because no one can be holly and jolly 24/7






2. I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas- Um... who wouldn't want that?






3. Dominick the Donkey - Hee Haw






4. 12 pains of Christmas - I may have quoted this song when putting lights outside last week






5. Walkin' Round in Women's Underwear






6. Christmas at Ground Zero - you can't have Christmas without some Weird Al!






7. Nuttin for Christmas - what my kids might get if they don't shape up!






8. The Chanukah Song - I can't forget my Jewish friends out there






And finally, Trans-Siberian Orchestra aside, my all time favorite Christmas song. Make sure your kids aren't within earshot, k?


9. Ho Ho Fucking Ho






What's your favorite Christmas song, funny or otherwise?

It's not a competition

Worrying if I am doing the best for my children is a constant struggle of mine. I know I am not alone in this. Not a day goes by when I don't see another mom, online or off, struggling with her role as a mother.

Along with raising our children to the best of our abilities, part of motherhood is also supporting our fellow moms. When another mom is struggling, we rally together to offer our support. When another mom is bragging about her child's latest accomplishment, we join in her celebration.

What motherhood is not is a competition.


Earlier this week, my son, who is 6, made dinner. And I'm not talking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I'm talking this...

Beef Stroganoff

Aside from cutting up and cooking the meat and onions, he cooked the rest of the meal. And it was delicious!

Of course I had to share. I posted to Facebook and I posted to Twitter. I expected one of two things - congratulations or nothing at all. What I did not expect was a woman warning me about a cooking disaster her daughter had. This is not the first time this woman has turned my proud moment into a disastrous moment about her daughter.

I brag about my children because I am proud of what they do. I do not need my joy crushed with warnings of what could happen. If you want to share a similar story with me about your child, by all means, please do so. I would honestly love to hear it. But your child is no better than mine. And mine are no better than yours.

I wish everyone would stop and think before they speak, tweet, or comment. It's about supporting, not competing.




Visit Shell for more PYHO links and come back on Friday if you want the recipe for this delicious stroganoff!

Thankful

Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful. Thankful is something you should be all year, but this time of year it is stressed. I have many things to be thankful for.

Even if they are a pain in my ass.


I am thankful for...


Mount Laundry

Not a day goes by where I don't have one pile or another of clothes to wash. But every time I trip over one of those piles or leave a trail of socks behind me as I walk down to the laundry room, I am reminded of how thankful I am we are able to all have clothes on our backs. Or the floor.


Skyscrapers of dishes in the sink

Or on the counter. My daughter and I share the responsibility of washing said dishes. If I'm not complaining about the lasagna that burned to the pan and won't come off, then I'm bribing her to actually wash them at a reasonable hour. No matter how much whining and crying I do over those dishes, I am reminded of thankful I am we are able to fill plates with food each and every night.


Children

Whether they are fighting or laughing, I know that they always have and always will love one another. I can't imagine my life without them. It is truly a miracle that the husband and I let them live this long created such beautiful creatures.



Creaky floors and leaky pipes

It is no secret that I hate this house. So many memories have been made here, but most days, it still doesn't feel like a home. Just a house. But no matter how I feel about this house of ours, I am always thankful that we have a roof over our heads.


Alarm clocks

Not a day goes by when I don't want to chuck them into the wall. Yes I said them. This chic loves her sleep! But since one of those alarms is on my phone, which I also love, I resist the urge to throw things at the butt crack of noon dawn. Instead of throwing, I remind myself that hearing my alarms every morning remind me that I am alive. And I am very thankful for that.


Coffee

Do I really need to explain this one?!


***********************

I am taking the remainder of this week off to enjoy a day of good food, followed by a long day of shopping. I hope everyone out there has a happy turkey day.


May you gobble til you wobble!

Come on get happy

Last weekend was my daughter's 10th birthday. As it is a tradition, I once again made her cake. Or in this case, cupcakes.

Browsing through Pinterest, my daughter and I came across 2 different cupcakes that she fell in love with. She decided on the sunshine cupcakes, and perhaps we will save the owl ones for another year.

With a little bit of patience,
sunshine cupcakes are so easy to make.

Items Needed:

1 box vanilla cake mix
1 tub white frosting
Yellow food coloring
1 tube of black icing
Decorating tips
Candy corns

*I use Cake Mate tubes of frosting because the company also sells a pack of decorating tips that screw right onto the tubes. Super easy to use!*

Make the cupcakes according to the directions on the box. While the cupcakes are baking, empty half of the frosting into a bowl. Add 10-12 drops of yellow food coloring. Mix well. Frost your cupcakes once they have cooled.

*Half a canister of frosting was just the right amount for 24 cupcakes. If you find you need more frosting, add some more to the bowl with a few extra drops of food coloring*

Once you have all of your cupcakes frosted, you can begin placing candy corns around the outer edge. I found that 6 or 7 candy corns were just enough. By placing the candy corns on first, you can now easily judge how much room you have to draw a face.

Finally, you can place your happy cupcakes in your brand new, super cool cupcake/cake carrier. Or maybe that's just me. I may only use this thing twice a year, but it was definitely worth the purchase!

One more thing, If you are not eating the cupcakes right away, I would suggest putting them in the fridge until ready to serve. I'm not sure what happened, but some of the candy corns were slipping off of the cupcakes by the time we got to my mom's house for my daughter's party.


Do you make cakes for your child's birthday? If so, what have you made?


If you have a recipe or craft you would like to share, I would love to feature you! Contact me at eumbel (at) gmail (dot) com

Safe, but at what cost?

My oldest recently turned 10, but even when she was a toddler, I knew I didn't want to be a parent like my dad was. Don't get me wrong, my father was a great man and a great parent, but we definitely had our moments. One thing him and I disagreed on was a certain friend of mine. Her and I formed our bond in third grade. As high school approached, she had numerous piercings and watched shows like 90210 and Melrose Place. He deemed her a bad influence.

I never wanted to be a parent like that where I told my children who they could or couldn't be friends with. In light of recent events, I fear this may have to happen.

A few Fridays ago, GG's friend called asking her to join her at a high school football game. It had been a while since the two girls hung out so I helped GG bundle up, shoved a few bills in her pocket, and sent her on her way. Little Dude was upset he couldn't join the girls. It had been a long day and I just wasn't up for dealing with the noise of the game along with the chilly Fall weather. I didn't realize until later in the evening that this game was the last of the season.

Little did I know that our high school football team would win that last game and make it the playoffs. The following Friday, GG's friend called once again inviting her to the game. Once again I bundled her up, shoved a few bills in her pocket, and sent her on her way.

Immediately after I turned to Little Dude and told him to bundle up as we were going to the game as well. When Little Dude and I arrived at the stadium, I asked him to pick a seat. We would try to find his sister, but that didn't mean we would sit with her and her friend. It's a struggle for me, but I am trying to give my daughter more independence.

We spotted GG and her friend a few sections over. We made our way over to let her know we were there. As I sat down, I began to look for her friend's father. I assumed he had gone to the concession stand for treats or hot chocolate. Perhaps he even went up the hill behind the bleachers where you are allowed to smoke. As the first quarter of the game came to a close, the friend's father had yet to show.

This was when I made the realization that he had dropped the two then 9 year old girls at the stadium by themselves. This was also the time I began to freak out.

We have been to our high school's football games in the past. It is a very family friendly environment and being a small community, most people know each other. Regardless, "you never know who is out there" and "it only takes a second" kept running through my head. Especially when the girls went off the play with friends behind the end zone where it's not as well lit. I know our team won the game and I did see some of the big plays, but for the most part I was keeping an eye on the girls.


I know this family has been through a lot over the past few years. This friend and her sister lost their mom to cancer. It is now just the girls and their dad. But that doesn't make it right to let them have free reign to do as they please, without the supervision of a responsible adult.

Sadly, because of other things I hear these girls are permitted to do, I don't feel that talking to their dad would make much of a difference. Right now I feel my only option is to limit where my daughter is allowed to go with her friend. My daughter, at 10, still sees the world as a perfect place. Yes, she knows there are bad people out there, but she has yet to understand how serious and how devastating it can be to run into those people.


I only want to keep her safe, but I do not like some of the decisions I have to make to ensure that.

How do you supervise?

Supervise - to oversee during execution or performance; superintend; have the oversight and direction of. Also, to watch over as to maintain order.

from dictionary.com


According to this definition, supervise means more than just watching over something. It also means keeping things in order and in line. I'm pretty sure, after what happened last week, that I need to show this to the PTA at my kids' school so they can paste it on any and all permission forms. Let me explain...


This elementary school, in particular, the PTA, does a lot for the students. We have a Halloween Dance, Ornament decorating night, and family bingo. This year the officers decided to add a monthly family movie night.

The month of October held the first family movie night. There were a few bumps during the evening, but being the first of such events, it was almost expected. Last week was our 2nd movie night - Cars 2.

Both of my kids were so excited to see this movie, but especially my son. Every student in his class won 2 free tickets for being the class who brought in the most Box Tops. I dug out of popcorn bowls, my son grabbed one of his favorite blankets, and off we went.

The first half of the movie went off without a hitch, but during the second half, all hell broke loose. Some of the younger kids (Kindergarten and 1st grade) were growing restless and began to run around the gym where the movie was being shown. A few thought it was funny to stick their hands in front of the projector to block the movie. One boy was having a grand time smashing a candy necklace all over the floor. Where were his parents? Neither myself or the 2 women in charge ever figured that out.

In the back of the gym, another boy was running back and forth screaming. This boy is a first or second grader. He was also trying to scale the walls and when he was bored with that activity, eh began to smash Pop Rocks on the floor because "he liked the sound they made". Where was his mom? Again, not sure. She got up and walked out at one point. It was assumed she had to use the ladies room or stepped outside to smoke. She was no where to be found. Until 30 minutes later when she returned. Stumbling through the door, slurring her speech.

I could see by their faces that I was not the only parent annoyed with the children in the front of the room causing a disruption. With some of those troublesome kids, their parents did nothing but watch them bounce to and fro. Or look on as another student told them not to touch something, like the projector.

Regarding the boy in the back of the gym, 2 families spoke to the women in charge. They felt this child was causing too much of a disruption and they had decided to go home because of him.

It clearly states on the permission form that parental supervision is required. I guess the exact definition of supervision needs to be made clearer.

I have mostly enjoyed the first 2 movie nights, but if situations like this continue, I fear movie nights won't last long. It would be a damn shame if a large group of children have to miss out on something fun because of a handful of troublemakers.

The proof is on the paper

People tell me I am Super Mom.

I am not only a member of the PTA, but I attend each and every meeting. I volunteer my time at school functions. I am a Girl Scout leader. I make home made Halloween costumes. I crochet Christmas gifts. I do crafts with my kids. If I am not running here, I am running there. I have so much on plate, but seem to get it all done.

I can also pretend. I may appear to be Super Mom, but if you look closer, you will realize I am not.

My house is a mess. My list of unfinished projects is almost as long as those I have finished. I have a smile on my face, but I may not be truly happy. I yell at my children. Oh, how I yell.

My children could care less about the projects I have not finished. They could care less about the mess, which most often leas to the yelling. And the yelling they care about.


Sunday night. Just home from my in-laws and a mountain of things to do before the kids went to bed. My son didn't finish putting his toys away before we left, but now he was "too tired" to do it. My daughter needed to wash some of the dishes. I needed room in the kitchen to bake the following day. The dry skin on her elbow hurt and the soap only makes it worse.

I asked. I pleaded. I began to yell. They wouldn't have time to play with glow sticks in the tub if they didn't finish their chores.

Things were beginning to unravel, but they finally finished their jobs.

My son played in the tun while my daughter practiced her flute. But he finished his bath first. He quickly dressed and ran downstairs to pester her. Already being frustrated with her flute practice, she began to yell. I yelled at my son as I stormed up to the bathroom too prepare my daughter's bath.

All was calm while she played, but when the last drop of water drained from the tub, tempers flared again. I was tired. I had enough. I yelled and scolded for the things they have not done. Daily chores that are ignored. Too many toys taken out that take too long to put away.

"Why do I have to keep reminding you? Why do you make me yell? I am not happy! I am very disappointed!"

My children shuffled off to bed while I escaped to the couch, holding back tears. I heard what I said and I didn't like it. My children went to bed upset and I did not like it. I needed to apologize and let them know just how much I love them.

I returned to the steps and began to climb. As I reached the top step I realized it was not my children who had disappointed me. It was me who disappointed my children. The proof was sitting on the floor outside my son's room.

No Mom

Mom not alawde
(Mom not allowed)

This may very well be the hardest post I have written. I want to be the kind of mom my kids look back on as adults and think how great their childhood was. I try. I really do. But on this night I failed. Lately I feel like I fail more than I succeed. The proof is on the paper.

Just sand

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle,
When 24 hours in a day is not enough;
remember the mayonnaise jar and 2 cups of coffee.


A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly,he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and started to fill it with golf balls. He asked the students if the jar was full.

They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full.

They agreed it was.


The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course the sand filled up everything else. He asked the class once more if the jar was full.

The students responded with a unanimous "yes".


The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured then into the jar, effectively filling the empty spaces between the sand.

The students laughed.


"Now", said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things - God, family, children, health, friends, and favorite passions. Things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the things that matter, like your job, house, and car. The sand is everything else - the small stuff."


"If you put the sand into the jar first", he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life."

"If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff,
you will never have room for the things
that are important to you..."

So...


Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.
Play with your children.
Take time to get medical check-ups.
Take your partner out to dinner.

There will always be time to clean the house and fix the dripping tap.

Take care of the golf balls first-
the things that matter.
Set your priorities.

The rest is just sand.


One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented.

The professor smiled. "It goes to show that no matter how full your life may seem, there is always room for a couple cups of coffee with a friend."