Yes, my kindle cover is covered in dog hair. Lots of it. How do you get a Kindle cover cover?
Cover can be found here.
When you have a little kid, you often find yourself handing over your $300 smart phone which now has such apps on it as “Green Eggs and Ham” and “Peekaboo Barn” in order to restore a modicum of silence while dining in a public establishment.
When you have a foot injury and are confined to the couch, you find yourself cruising Etsy non stop because your sweet toddler broke your $60 monogrammed iPhone case when he hurled it down the staircase because look at it go bounce crash smash all the way down, mom!
And then you find it. The mother lode. Is that a monogrammed iPhone case? Is it nautical and stripey? Is it really $16.99???? Is it in my shopping bag immediately?Why yes. Yes it is.
I got it already and I LOVE it. It’s cute and not as bulky as my last case. And you know how much I love a monogram. I think it comes from being the youngest child of seven. I like to stamp my name or initials on everything. It’s a pretty way of saying “That’s mine. Hands off, jerk.” Or whatever.
But here’s the best part. I got in touch with Jenn, the owner of On Your Case, and she wants to give one of you a FREE iPhone CASE of your choice from her shop. Say it with me. Awwww YEAH! No? Okay, well you can imagine me saying it then. And I’m not even jealous you get it for free, because these cases are completely cute and affordable. Did I mention I spent $60 on my last case? What is that about?
Take a look at some of the cute cases:
I also love these:
Yeah, exactly. And YOU’RE WELCOME.
So here’s the deal. Go to Jenn’s Etsy store and hit the “Like” Facebook button. Then, subscribe to my blog if you don’t do so already by clicking on the “Follow” button to the right over there, and then leave a comment letting me know which case in Jenn’s store is your favorite.
My favorite is all of them. I made need to get another one….
You know when you are on a diet, and all you can think about is food?
That’s how it is right now with me and shoes. For realsies, with my foot in this boot, all I can see, think and dream about is shoes. Cute shoes abound, just taunting me. Luckily, I like cheap shoes. So perhaps some of these will be waiting for me in a month when my boot is removed. I’ve got all the time in the world to online shop after all.
My injury has thrown quite a wrench in our normal schedule. Since heading to the podiatrist, I have been confined to our bed or couch with my foot elevated all day long. Luckily, I have the world’s best mother in law, and she was here from Wednesday until Saturday morning, basically waiting on my lazy ass hand and foot. And doing my dirty laundry. And chasing my feral child. And changing his poopie diapers. And bathing him. If you ever want to feel like a completely useless nag, have your mother in law replace you for three days. I would have cried but I was too grateful for her indentured servitude.
During that time, Kase and I had to come up with a plan of action for the next three weeks. For the first time in 20 months, our child will go to a DAYCARE. I am coming down with some sort of viral infection just thinking about it. Just kidding. But truly, this is going to really take some getting used to. What do normal people do all day who don’t have jobs and kids?
That wasn’t rhetorical. I’m really asking.
Just last week alone, I was on the horn making call after call trying to set up child care, cancel Gymboree classes and questioning insurance limits. During this time, Colin took to stealing my cell phone, hopping on his ride on race car and having entire conversations while driving. I sternly warned him that texting while driving was absolutely forbidden. He yelled back in response, “BYEEEEE!” Couldn’t tell you if he understood my point or not. He hopped back on another call immediately, “Hi! Blah blah A B C D Y. AH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
It reminded me of my old job, where most of the day I was either responding to emails or making phone calls. I remember one comment in my yearly review was to be more proactive. All administrative assistants got this comment. It made us laugh of course, because we didn’t have time to be proactive. Our job was to constantly put out fires or start new ones for someone else.
Which is a lot like my life right now. Apparently, I am a reactive parent. Probably most stay at home parents of only children have this luxury: “Hey honey! Did you have a nice nap? Are you hungry? Let’s find something for you to eat? Do you want to play cars? Go to the park? Okay, let’s get dressed then.” We barely have a schedule most days; we just do what we feel like doing. Sometimes that means we stay in all day and never change out of our jammies. We certainly don’t have any systems in place for a mother who is injured and immobile (she might say impotent), a father who works from 7am until 11pm, and a 20 month old toddler who has never stepped foot in an all day daycare program.
We spent this weekend buying lunch boxes and additional sippy cups that most likely will not return to our possession, buying supplies for lunches that don’t require a microwave or refrigerator, washing new crib sheets, and unearthing our diaper bag from storage. We packed said diaper bag and laid out our outfits for the week since we can’t just lounge around the house in our jammies all day watching the Sprout Channel because it is Monday for crying out loud and we like to ease into our week.
It’s not easy. It’s hard to release control to those around me, because after all, I do everything better. Not really. But it is my job. I like to think that after 20 months with my employer, I’ve got it down. But I’ve been pink slipped. Or at least suspended for a month. Quite frankly, it’s horrifying.
All this is to say, I’m out of sorts. I’m looking at three weeks of laying on the couch. I can’t take the free time to clean the house, cook a healthy meal, or catch up on the never ending pile of laundry (despite the five loads my mother in law did while here). I can’t go for a walk or get pampered. Ironically, for someone who lives for Colin’s daily naps, I am not looking forward to my free time one bit. I mean, really, I’ve already read all the 50 Shades of Grey novels, and there’s only so many episodes of Mob Wives a girl can watch. Not to mention, I think I am really gonna miss this guy:
So. Have you read any good books lately?
Turns out, my foot doesn’t have a boney spur. And he’s not happy to see me. There will be no more bad foot injury jokes. That time has passed. This just sucks.
I am even more alien than we originally thought. Well, than *I* originally thought. I have a whole extra bone in my foot. Just hanging around. Not attached to anything or anyone. A little bone island if you will. A hermit bone. One that went all Unabomber and sliced up my tendon sheath. Whatever the hell that means. Beware of the Unabomber bone. He’ll cut a bitch.
The nice podiatrist (we can feel sorry for the poor fool who decided to deal with FEET for a living later. BACK TO ME) was as happy as could be as he waltzed into the room:
“Well, I’m sure you were told you broke your foot. But you didn’t!”
“I never thought I broke my foot. I was told I have a boney spur that was causing inflammation and to rest it. And then I was given this hot Velcro shoe bootie. Don’t be jealous.”
“Oh, no. Take a look here! You have a bonemetatarsaloxbonetendonsheathlubeinflammationpain.”
Or something like that. He definitely mentioned lube at one point. I know that much. Otherwise, I don’t speak podiatrist. I try as a general rule to avoid thinking about feet altogether. Unless I am picking out a nice shade of Essie at the nail salon.
The nice doctor told me my foot was a prime example of an anatomy lesson since you could see all my bones and tendons. Especially the affected tendon that was three times the normal size from inflammation. Oh goodie! The person who hates feet was told my feet are exemplary. Excuse me while I hurl. And the sad part? That was the best news I would be getting during this visit.
“Oh, I see. Yes.”
“So we’ll have to put you in a cast and give you crutches. You have to stay off the foot for 4 weeks.”
“Wait. Did you say you had a son at home?”
He decided to fit me for a walking boot/cast thingamabobber. That’s the official term, by the way. I’m quite positive I heard that correctly. And while he was doing this? The good doctor had the nerve to insult my blue velcro shoe bootie. He called it “worthless.” I could have slapped him in the face. NOBODY insults my velcro shoe bootie.
Then there was some more talk at the end, when I mentioned my Motrin 800 wasn’t doing much of anything at all for the pain and then kindly declined his sweet offer of Vicodin, about how there is a slight tiny minuscule possibility that I may have torn my tendon altogether, but that will be a conversation for another day three weeks from now when I get a follow up x-ray to assess the situation. Until then, it’s just me and the boot, 24/7. And a bag of ice. And Colin.
I should have taken the offer of Vicodin.
I’m gonna need a pedicure. Sooner, rather than later.
Don’t be jealous. That blue baby is all mine. Yes, singular. What, you don’t own just one shoe? What can I say? I’m special.
So on Sunday I woke up with a pain in my foot, not to be confused with the pain in my behind, which is how I lovingly refer to my son and/or husband. It was uncomfortable to walk on, but I thought maybe it was simply stiff and needed a little waking up time.
The pain progressed until I decided yesterday that I should probably go to the hospital to get it checked out. I decided this after not being able to limp around my house and yard without muttering swear words under my breath. Nothing exacerbates pain quite like trying to entertain a 19 month old in 78 degree weather.
While there was no bruising and if I were to be honest, my foot was less swollen than it once was while pregnant, I knew I was in pain, and well, when you don’t yet have a primary care physician, the emergency room is the next best thing, right?
The official diagnosis? I am an alien. Oh wait, no that was Kase’s concern after I told him my lame diagnosis. I have a “boney spur” according to my kind doctor. Which is a nice way of saying I am a human teenage mutant ninja turtle. Apparently, I am growing a little bone spur where there shouldn’t be no bone. And it’s probably all up in some nerve’s space. And that is what is causing me to limp around the house and swear.
So now I am left to my own devices, wearing an ugly blue velcro shoe (Colin’s velcro shoes are much more adorable. They should work with the people at Converse or the Gap on these things. They could learn something) and making up bad foot jokes involving boney spurs. But at least I have some strong painkillers. And no, I’m not sharing. Get your own. That goes for the painkillers and the hot shoe.
I love it when you are getting dinner ready and some pantry staples you thought you had just seemed to have gone missing. Like, when you ate them. And then forgot to get more. So while I was preparing a nice light chicken salad with cranberries and pecans last night, I told Kase I needed to go to the store because I was out of an ingredient.
“Just make do without it.”
“Um, actually, I am missing more than one ingredient.”
“Well, it turns out, I only have the chicken and mayonnaise.”
“Can you make a pesto mayonnaise?”
And that, ladies, is only one of the reasons I keep that guy around. He’s also nice to look at.
I package of Perdue Short Cuts Oven Roasted Chicken
1 cup diced tomatoes
1 tbsp Mayonnaise
2 tsp Basil Pesto
1 tsp Grated Parmesan Cheese
1 tbsp of sun dried tomatoes packed in olive oil (optional)
Basil, to taste
Combine all ingredients in medium bowl. Serve.
I think we have discussed that I am crap at dressing myself. Unless it involves yoga pants and a t shirt. Preferably one that doesn’t fit and is three years or older. Oh wait. That still means I am crap at dressing myself. But I look awful to boot.
Enter Pinterest. Now, I have a virtual moodboard of outfits I like, which has made shopping a bit easier, and not so horrible. For instance, back in the fall, I pinned this look:
I know. More stripes. What can I say? I love a stripe. Regardless of if it makes me look like a linebacker. I won’t be stripped of my stripes.
But it’s the pants that have been the hardest to find. I love their length, their casual rolled up vibe. I want this faceless chick’s life. You just know she doesn’t have a Backyardigans sippy cup leaking in that bag. You just know it.
With my eye now attuned to the pieces of clothing I like on Pinterest, I spotted a striped top at LL Bean last weekend up in Freeport. About the right price, and definitely the right look. I completed the look that same weekend with some pleated(!) blue khakis from the Gap Outlet. I know, I said pleated. But trust you me, they are cute. And oh so comfortable. And I don’t have to suck in my gut. So I consider this Pinterest outfit complete and a roaring success!
For the rest of us, I scrounged up a similar look online:
How do people learn to dress properly and with style? Is this why girls used to read Seventeen and Glamour? I never really got that. How do you shop for clothes? Or do you just have innate style? If so, can I borrow some?
This is the only picture I got from Easter:
And as we enter my son’s 19 month of life, I do believe the tally stands at a big fat zero when it comes to a family picture that includes me, Kase and Colin. Posing. All together. In the same photo. Is that even possible? Yes. It is. For this holiday, here are some reasons why:
1. Naked pictures are not appropriate for the inter webs. And Colin was naked as a jay bird when he found his Easter basket. Which has been in the same spot all week, ready for the taking. But he decided to wait until he was fresh out of the tub to streak around the upstairs and go a huntin’ for his basket. Then? He was so excited upon tearing into it he Pooped. On. The. Floor. Of course, we thought it was the dog, so we yelled at Fenway, who looked quite affronted. And then, well, we figured it out. So we apologized to the dog and wished him a Happy Easter (by abandoning him all day long)
2. We discovered upon arriving at Grammie’s house that though I picked up his adorable bright blue crocs (that perfectly matched his bright blue pants, natch) intending to pack them up with the plastic eggs for the egg hunt we never got to do (see below), I must have put them immediately back down because Colin was barefoot and had no shoes to wear. And then, my child had to wear Shoes. From. WAL. MART. (shudder)*
3. No matter, because five minutes later, Colin took a headfirst dive into the corner of Grammie’s brick fireplace mantel, scraping up his cheek pretty bad. For the remainder of the day, he looked like a cast off extra from “Fight Club.” You all know the 20th rule of Fight Club, right? No Easter pictures.
4. Colin was cutting not one, not two, not three, but four new teeth. Crying, whining and drool were key components of the day. And though the thought of wrangling a teething, bruised up toddler into some semblance of a portrait screams “Good Time!” I just wasn’t up for it this time.
5. Colin capped off the afternoon by spilling his milk onto his seat and then looked as though he had wet himself. Pants off. Sadly, no dance off. No egg hunt either. With the Easter outfit officially deserted, we decided to just give up altogether and head back home.
The careful thought and planning I put into his outfit, not to mention the money spent and shipping fees paid was totally worth it, for the ten minutes at 9:20am when my son was fully dressed complete with shoes, not crying in pain from his four new teeth cutting in, not banged up and hadn’t yet sit in a puddle of whole milk. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
*I have no issue with shoes from Wal Mart. For days other than Easter. And Christmas. And really any event for which I have purchased more expensive shoes. Which, let’s face it. Is always.
If they ever do away with Pinterest, I’m in for it. I really should start printing out some of the recipes I find, but I just. can’t. be. bothered. When I can just pop the laptop onto the counter and make dinner, then why would I bother with actual paper? Besides, how else would I get salmonella poisoning if it weren’t on my laptop?
But the fact is, these recipes are worthy of being made over and over again. If I printed them out, I would be able to do that when they inevitably do away with Pinterest or make me pay for it. Or my laptop dies. Oh my god. That would be awful. But if I printed them out, I could get a cute recipe binder. Or a little recipe box. That would be cute and fun. And it would give me an excuse to go shopping.
Where were we? Oh yeah. For those of you like me, who always seem to about 5,00 chicken breasts in the freezer (seriously, what is my problem?) Here are some tried and true chicken recipes that we just love around here:
In our house, we know it’s spring when we start taking day trips. There’s nothing like hopping in the car right before nap time and taking a two hour trip up the coast to Maine, so that’s what we did. We originally just planned to head to Portland to grab something to eat and walk around, but then we remembered the Children’s Museum, and decided to grab a bite on the way and make the museum our ultimate destination.
But first, we ate.
We headed to one of our favorite restaurants near the cottage- The Good Table. It’s a family run restaurant and very kid friendly, plus the food is really very good. Unless you mistakenly eat a crayon when you mean to eat a sweet potato fry. That’s on you.
After lunch we hopped back in the car for another 10 minutes to Portland. Found the museum right away. And the despot was off. Right off the lobby there is a room called “Having a ball” We were there for approximately 30 minutes. Which is the equivalent of 7 days in toddler years.
And even though Colin was enjoying himself, mom and dad paid $27 to enjoy the entire museum. So naturally we grabbed him and forced him upstairs. All he had to do was spot the fire engine and he was off again. Tractors, space engines, groceries, water play streams, Colin was all over it.
The cool thing about this museum (and to be fair, I haven’t been to any others since I was a child myself) is that most “stations” are sponsored by a local company or national company based in Maine. So there was the Oakhurst Farm, where you could milk a cow or play on a tractor, and a stream and climbing mountain sponsored by LL Bean, complete with LL Bean rain coats to protect the kids from getting too wet. Oh, those advertising wizards. They get me every time. I immediately turned to Kase and asked if he wanted to drive to Freeport to go to LL Bean and drink a delicious milk-based beverage. Which he did. Minus the milk-based beverage.
So we did. Walking around LL Bean is still fun for the kiddos because they have all these fish tanks and ponds and taxidermied wildlife scattered about. Oh and shotguns and crossbows right near the family bathroom. Good times. I think it was the first store we have gone into recently where Colin didn’t immediately start yelling “BYE! BYE!” as a subtly request to leave. Mostly because he was lunging for the crossbows.
After we picked out an adorable jacket for Colin, I tried my hardest to continue to shop around Freeport with the two Jubboori men. We even hit up CrewCuts by J. Crew, but all I got was a stupid dinosaur. I agree, it’s a crime.
I still say any day in Maine is a good day. But then Colin gave me the greatest gift of all and passed out upon getting back into the car. Two naps in one day! I am tempted to pay $27 every weekend in order to make that happen again.
A nice striped shirt is so easy to style in so many ways. You can go from the playground to dinner out and still use the same pieces, just mixed up a bit. So for blog purposes and my own edification, and because I can’t get enough Olioboard goodness, I decided to style one shirt, five ways.
Last weekend for Always Crafty, I scrounged up a $9 clearance section striped tee from Loft, paired it with some skinny jeans and threw on some accessories. Gotta look cute for my fellow bloggers. And since you can’t get enough wear from a $9 shirt, I’m thinking of taking another crack at this outfit and changing it up a bit for Easter.
Unfortunately, the $9 clearance tee doesn’t appear to be available online anymore, but there are plenty of places to find a bright striped shirt. None of the items I chose is over the top, budget-wise and you can definitely find similar items at TJ Maxx or The Rack for less. More importantly, you can find every item online. Which I know is important for those of us with children who have been diagnosed with shopping cart aversion syndrome.
Here’s a similar look to what I wore last weekend:
For Easter, I am thinking of switching out the dark skinny jeans for some white ones, and adding a few accessories for church (we’re a pretty casual church):
I can combine some elements of each, and I’ve got a perfect go-to outfit for this spring, whether we’re heading to dinner or I’m running errands:
And for the playground, these Bensimon sneakers are definitely on my wish list:
I know what you are thinking: White jeans. Stupid idiot. But let me tell you: the great thing about white jeans and white slipcovers and white anything really is that you can just bleach it to death (or monogram them with fabric paint). And trust me, I’ve always got my OxyClean at the ready. Sometimes I prefer white to anything else precisely for that reason. It always feels bright and crisp and put together. Even if I don’t.
As you may know, this past weekend, I hopped on a plane and headed to Pennsylvania to meet up with my (blog slash now real life) buddies for a crazy craftin’ bonanza, Always Crafty. My pals Shannon and Bethany are the friends you want to have throw you a “casual 31st birthday party” because they will go overboard and make it look like something you would see in Martha Stewart Weddings. And who doesn’t want a party that looks like it could be a wedding? They are insanely crafty with a fabulous eye and have an amazing way of styling simple items so that you think you walked into a magazine shoot. Two words: Lemon Swag. Huh?
Can you believe that? Shannon completely transformed her house into a photo shoot. With stripey straws! And swag bags! And
I was surrounded by craft ninjas wielding chicken wire and hot glue guns and pneumatic staplers. What else could I possibly do? I crafted. It was all, “Craft hard or go home” so I rose to the challenge and became a craft fiend. Which is not to be confused with crack fiend. Totally different. To my surprise, most of my crafts didn’t turn out at all janky. If I was a person who knew how to sew, I am sure I would use my little sewing kit I made. Instead, I’ll probably just display it in the laundry room to give the illusion of domestic superiority. I’ll definitely be using my new monogrammed napkins. I may or may not already have a trip planned to the craft store to buy another J stamp and some fabric paint so I can monogram anything cotton or linen in my house. I’ll just be walking around stamping slipcovers and the like. Don’t mind me. There’s no controlling the craft ninja. Especially when it comes to monograms.
If you like what you see here, you can head over to Shannon’s blog where she is sharing tutorials this week of all the crafty goodness, not just the stuff I remembered to photograph. I can’t be blamed. I was busy craftin’. And drinking Arnold Palmers. The adult kind. Out of stripey straws. And it was amazing.
My mind. Has. Been. Blown.
I didn’t think it was possible, but someone was able to improve upon Hawaiian Sweet Rolls. Hot damn.
Back in the day, my father would make us a dinner called “Ham Surprise.” It was English muffins topped with ham and mustard and a weird meringue type sauce on top. It was pretty good. Not anything to try and recreate though. I mean, who likes ham that much? Not this chick. But I saw this recipe making the rounds on Pinterest. I’ll be honest. It was the Hawaiian Sweet Rolls element that intrigued me, naturally. A couple of variations, a few of my own deviations later and I give to you the best 5 minute dinner ever. (plus 20 minutes to bake up)
1 Package of Honey Baked Deli Ham
1 Package of Shredded Swiss Cheese
1 Package of King’s Hawaiian Sweet Rolls
1 Stick butter
1/2 finely chopped onion- medium
3 tablespoons honey dijon mustard
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon real maple syrup
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt butter in pan. Add in chopped onions and allow to soften. Add in mustard, maple syrup and worcestershire sauce and bring to simmer. Meanwhile, cut a full package of King’s Hawaiian Sweet Rolls in half and layer swiss cheese, honey ham and then swiss cheese again. Top with half of onion mixture. Replace tops of rolls and top with remaining mixture, like so:
Cover with aluminum foil and cook for 20 minutes in oven. Cut out individual servings and serve. Enjoy!!!