anxiety dream

This is probably tmi.


You know those anxiety dreams that you're standing around your elementary school in just your white underwear?  I tend to have a million different versions of them.  Particularly when I'm anxious.  Last night I had that dream in miscarriage form:

I was visiting at a friend's house (a very laid back friend, at that) and went to her basement to find G, my 17 month old.  When I found her I found black stuff all around her mouth. I searched around for what she had eaten, then saw a bottle of rat poison in G's hand.  I went ballistic and began searching for a number for poison control or the hospital, meanwhile my friend wiped the evidence off G's face and reassured me that "now she's fine!"  After precious long minutes of finding the number, dialing wrong numbers, poison control not answering, hospital lines busy, I finally got ahold of someone on poison control.  They told me that she can take ipecac (the medicine that makes you throw up) but it will be "violent" throwing up, and it may do her more harm than good since she is so little.  .....  woke up in a sweat. ....

I then realized that I'm anxious.  Tomorrow (St. Patty's Day) I have to go to my doctor to take medicine.  I haven't technically "miscarried," there was just no sign of life at my last appointment.  I had three choices- wait it out, take medicine, or get surgery.  Waiting it out was risky and didn't seem to be happening.  The DNC (surgery) seemed invasive and reminded me of abortions, which thoroughly depressed me.  The option I was left with was taking the medicine.

Here are the parallels, just in case they are not as clear to you as they are to me:  My baby= my baby.  Rat poison= medicine to be taken tomorrow.  Friend= "everyone goes through it"/ the unknown.  No medical assistance= I take the medicine, go home and wait.  "Violent" throwing up= Doctor saying that it's worse than a period, not as bad as labor.

I'm nervous.

This ain't last year's St Patty's Day.  <-- real link to my blog from last year.  Have I scarred you all with all those sketchy links?  Sorry.

By the way, if I haven't made it around to your blog yet to personally thank you, I want to let everyone know how much I appreciated the support and kind words through this bad Bad time.  Thanks for not being awkward, thanks for just letting me write what I had to write.  a) it was a lot of emotion b) I'm a terrible story teller :)  and furthermore, thanks for showing me so much virtual love!

I've been punk'd

There was all this hype about a huge snowstorm that was supposed to hit last night.  My bff, in her usual fashion, stocked up on milk and beer.  Me, in my atypical but becoming all too familiar fashion, stocked up on beef barley soup and pastry hearts.  Oh, the joys to be hormonal and weight gain expected.  Anyway, this "snowstorm" maybe maybe would've thrown San Diego for a loop.  But not us Buffalonians.  The pending anxiety of it, however, threw everyone (University at Buffalo included) into a tizzy, schools and businesses closing.  (I'm warming up at the mere idea of this)  My next door neighbor's plow came at least twice during the night.  Naturally, I expected to wake up and see nothing but a winter wonderland.  Instead I woke up to see no more snow than there was on the branches and the steps to the play set in the backyard.  (La Jolla I'm coming for the rest of the winter).

me!??!?!?!!?

I've recently begun to think that I'm constantly being Punk'd.  Like there are all sorts of conspiracies around me and hidden cameras are just waiting to get a ridiculous reaction out of me.  My reaction always ends up being, "am I being punk'd?" which always ends up twice as ridiculous because a) I'm not on camera, b) I give myself away by thinking the world revolves around me.  So by the light of the moon this morning, only half-way in my pajamas, I squintedly asked aloud, "am I being punk'd?"  There was no snow, but next door neighbor's driveway had been repeatedly plowed, and the ice trucks were up and down my street all night long.  Whaat?  But apparently, here we are, in the middle of a storm.  I'm dutifully eating my beef barley soup and pastry hearts, and I turned up the heat, just for effect.

Which is taller, a square or a rectangle?

If you read my other blog, you know that I have this looming Christmas (sans alcohol, I might add) party coming up.  There is little to dread, much to look forward to, but if you read my last post, the former becomes what I look forward to and the latter is what I dread.  The Irish in me, again.  Fall back excuse.

Right now my dread is that I don't have hot shoes.  This is muy, muy bothersome for me.  First of all, I had a group of 10 or so people tell me the other day that they think I'm taller than Mr Incredible (a rectangle always looks taller than a square).  This does not fly with me.  I used to very confidently wear heels with him (we are both 5'9).  Now I feel as though I'm going to be stuck wearing- what?  Flats and dress with tights?  That, too, does not fly with me.  (and if you're wondering, my "hot shoes" that I had suddenly started making my legs feel less Sarah, more Bristol-esque.  In other words, salvationarmy.)  I know I could get away with boots, but flat boots are cazh.

So what's a girl to do?  My best advice to you is to stay tuned.  Because I'm at a loss.

kiwi

versus Mr Inc.  Who looks taller to YOU

   

Miley has it wrong. It was a party in Can-AH-da

I'm back!  What?  you didn't miss me?  Oh, it's because I was on a long weekend.  Not a vacation.  There it's been clarified.

What I look like on vacation.  no for real.

I'll begin at the beginning and the end.  We went to Blue Mountain in Canada.  It's a ski resort only it was summertime.  So it was a summer resort on a mountain.  It was ah!mazing.  It's an hour and a half past Toronto.  If you're thinking, "ooo I love big cities!" redirect your thinking to, "note to self: never go on vacation when you have to drive through a ginormous city."  Unless you super fluffy heart traffic jams, of course.

Did you know that if Toronto were in the US (tomato tomahto, ay?) it would be the third largest city after nyc and la?  Approaching the big city, I thought, 'Ikeas! skinny people (maybe even famous)!, musicals! and Asians!'  Round number two:  Approaching the city I thought, 'Please God don't let there be more traffic jams that creep up so fast on you that I'll get whip lash and more importantly, will let the kids wake up."

I won't get into all the wonderful nitty gritty details of it.  But this much I'll say:  Starbucks under our hotel room.  Tim Hortons in Canada.  Pool.  Beach.  Mountain.  Someone else washing all of our dirty towels.  Beer.  Martinis.  Wine.  Live music.  Need I say more, friends??  Need I say more.

Front: capri sun. Back: cranberry lime martini.  It's not everyday that I have martinis. (garnished with limes, that is.)

I won't talk about stupid blogger anymore. at least not right now.

For my birthday/ mother's day, Mr Incredible decided on getting me a sick camera for me.  He's letting me choose which one, which is a badgood idea.  I have complete cold feet from it because they are so expensive and I'm overwhelmed.  Because I know me, it'll probably be another year.  or three.

I was on the phone this morning talking to my friend about it when the doorbell rang.  It was literally like a bad tv show how perfectly it worked out.  In the mail was this:

I thought that the box was from a giveaway I'd one with some ghetto Sherrie's Berries packaging (not that the giveaway I won was ghetto, or that Sherries Berries is ghetto, just all of it summed up together), but alas! it was not.  There were true sherrie's chocolate covered berries in the box!  

At this point I thought it was surely from his grandmother or mom, because they're cool like that and are always on top of holidays.  Wrong again!

cory= Mr Incredible, just incase that threw you off.  

If you're thinking that's nice and cute and wonderful but my husband/significant other does this on a weekly basis, think again.  I want to say something like this has NEVER happened, but I'll be safer with very rarely.  He's just not into the mushy gushy stuff and that's cool.  Most of the time.  This made me so happy I was literally almost speechless.  I felt like I should cry, but I didn't, mostly because I don't cry happysad tears.

I know you're wondering, what can you take from this post?

1. I have very little happysad emotion in me
2. Saving $40 on shipping charges to have it come three days early will win my heart over doubly.  I love saving money, Mr Incredible not so much.  So that right there spelled l-o-v-e
3. Those last five pounds can wait
4. You have it right there in writing: I am the Best Mother Ever

One last thing: Let's just clear the air.  It's not that Mr Incredible isn't lovey dovey, it's that he is painfully practical.  Less Shakespeare, more Bob the Builder.  Not in terms of learning levels, though.

You people have me whipped

I know!  I mayyy be getting slef centered, or I just may be bragging that I Was An Irish Dancer.  But BUT you guys want to know details, well, I'll dish the details.

Since I only have so many pictures to share until Shakedown Round II, work with me.  Foxy requested the second picture.  I like her, so like I promised- here it is.

The picture is NOT of me Irish Dancing.  Irish Dancers keep their hands at their sides.  (Also known as  Fire and Ice.  Get it?  Frozen arms, hot feet.  no.  Hott feet.  better.)  But it is me being a seventh grade ham, and that is my cousin in the background with her hair net in keeping her real curls curly.  Sometimes even Irish Dancers have to roll Lunch Lady Style.  Dat coo.

And now I'm going to go retrieve this other photo from the room that the baby is sleeping in.  I told you I was faithful to you.

...

You can rest assured that I'm back, baby didn't wake up and AND I found more than one pictures.  I'm still deciding how much is too much.  But I will share this pic with you:

This answers Kristen and Salt's question about THE HAIR.  Basically the night before an event, you sit at the kitchen table with a bottle of goop goop goop for hair and a hair brush and hairspray, and your mom takes like, 12 pieces of hair, goops it, sprays it then curls it in curlers.  It took probably a good two hours.  and 200 hundred curlers.  (mom correct me if I'm wrong.)  Then you wrap your head with every handkerchief you can find in your house to avoid getting the sleep frizzies.  (see above)  In the morning you pull the curls straight down and VOILA!  Awesome hair.  (Mom, I don't think I've ever said a good hearty "thanks."  THANKS!)

Salt also asked how I got into Irish Dancing.  When I was in kindergarden or first grade I saw some Irish Dancers performing and I beggggged my mom.  We didn't have a school nearby, so we waited.  Then in third grade a new Irish Dancing school opened up in the town I lived in.  My mom signed me up asap.

Also, Salt, when we competed at competitions (called feis' said like fesh) we would win medals and trophies.  But that will be for another post.  Maybe next St. Patty's Day.  :)

I'm leaving this post with a thick layer of self centeredness on me.  But that's just blogging, no?

Put on Christina Aguilera. This post is that good.

Readers:

I hope you appreciate how undyingly faithful I am to you.  I did a shakedown in my parents' house TOP TO BOTTOM yesterday looking for some Irish Dancing photos.  You don't understand.  We probably have THOUSANDS and the fact that I could find nary but a handful was absurd.

And then finally.  After I found every single date dance and prom picture with every boy in Buffalo (lie.  Maybe like 6) and London pictures and carousing like a fool pictures, finally.  I found 2 Irish dancing photos.

I know you don't care that much.

But I am committed to you, you fools.

I do not have their permission to put their photos on the 'net.  I'm on the far right.  This was at the Nationals, and this was my 4 hand team.  Because you care.

That is our real hair.  Danged new fangled kids now wear wigs.  That hair was blood, sweat and tears. 

I am too lazy to scan the other picture, and I know you don't care that much.  If you do, leave a message and if I like you at all, I'll put the other one up there.

I'm in a wicked bad mood today.

O'No She Di'n't

Warning:  This may be one of the most obnoxious posts yet.  And because it's 5 o'clock somewhere I can do what I want.  I do what I want.  Watch me interview myself, and judge me.

Me: Is it true that you've already accomplished Bailey's in coffee, the zoo, an Irish festival that included Corned Beef and Guiness?
O'Me: O'Yes it is
Me: And rumor has it that Irish Cream Brownies are baking as we speak in the oven
O'Me: O'HellzYes
Me: Why wouldn't Mr O'Incredible let you have a car bomb at the Irish festival?
O'Me:  The practical side o' him said it was only 12 in the afternoon.  I translated that as, "You already have a car bomb brewing in your tummy."

Me:  How come you let Mr O'Incredible buy that $20 shirt and mug that has zero relevance to life?

O'Me: Irish are generally irresponsible particularly after a drink or three

Me: You wouldn't really let your kids drink Bailey's- or would you?

O'Me: I don't share.

Me: Did you bring more flashback pictures from your Irish Dancing days?

O'Me: O'No I forgot.  Stay tuned.  If they're not up by tonight it's because I fell O'sleep.  They'll be up in the morning, latest.

O'Yes I realize that the Bailey's is in place of my third child.  Sorry, third child.

If you're an Irish, Food Loving, Chocoholic and maybe Alcoholic

You know what I'm doing today.  But if you're not as brave/irish as I, you can sit inside and enjoy watching the rain and heck maybe even light a fire.  If this is what you do, do me a favor and make AT LEAST one of the following.  Your taste buds will be eternally grateful and your hips will forever shake their fists at me.

1. Irish Cream Brownies (your hips will just shake its head sadly at you, not shake its fists because these are from Cooking Light.)(warning that I choose not to follow: Cooking Light recipes are only beneficial if you don't eat the whole pan.)


1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt 
1/3 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup butter 
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup egg substitute (or 1 egg+1 egg white)
1/4 cup Baileys Irish Cream
1 tsp vanilla
Cooking spray


1. preheat oven to 350
2. Lightly spoon flour into a dry measuring cup, level with a knife.  Combine flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt in a small bowl, stirring with a whisk.
3. Place chocolate chips and butter in a large microwave safe bowl.  Microwave on high 1 1/2 minutes or until chocolate chips and butter melts, stirring every 30 seconds.  Cool slightly.  Add sugar and next three ingredients, stirring well with a whisk.  Microwave on high until sugar dissolves, stirring every 30 seconds.  Fold in the flour mixture, stirring just until moist.  Spread batter in a thin layer in a square 9 inch baking pan coated with cooking spray.   Bake at 350 for 20 minutes or until wooden toothpick comes out almost clean.  Cool on wire rack.  
(16 servings) 145 calories 5 grams fat, 1 gram of fiber   (or you can just eat the pan and water and carrot sticks and call it a day.)


2. Irish Snugglers
Hot cocoa (or coffee just in case you think saving 70 extra calories is worth it)
1 shot Baileys
1 shot Kahlua
1/2 shot Peppermint Schnapps
Whipped cream.  NOT cool whip, please for the love of everything green, just use whipped cream


put in mug and enjoy

3. Irish Car Bomb

3/4 pint Guinness® stout

1/2 shot Bailey's® Irish cream
1/2 shot Jameson® Irish whiskey

Add the Bailey's and Jameson to a shot glass, layering the Bailey's on the bottom. Pour the Guinness into a pint glass or beer mug 3/4 of the way full and let settle. Drop the shot glass into the Guinness and chug. If you don't drink it fast enough it will curdle and increasingly taste worse.

Cue Molly Mallone. (you don't know that song? rise up irish people of the world.)

Is anyone else outrageously excited for St. Patrick's Day?  No?  allllright.

St. Patrick's Day is my fav for a few reasons:

• the mark of spring.  I think last year I got sun burned at the parade
• the abundance of beer.  and soda bread with jam.  and cabbage.  I love cabbage.  sick.  
• crazy celtic music blaring IN YOUR FACE ALL THE TIME.  I won't lie.  I've already started it up here in Incredible land (<--- is Incredible land really Michael Jacksonish?  should I change that?)
• Irish Dancing throwback.  Love it or leave it.  Think it's "weird" or know that my hard shoes can make your tap shoes cry.

I think come St Patty's Day (or March) I'll be sad that I shared this pic with you.  No fear.  I'll put up more.

why. Why. WHY

Blow up lawn decorations, friends, are a CRYING SHAME.  Our neighbors have a blow up for every occasion.  This is serious.  Especially since we are on just this side of town borders.  Right now they have a New Year Baby.  Before that was Santa, before that was Turkey, before that was Skulls, before that was Birthday cake.  They also have a life size stuffed dog that they keep on their lawn.  I'm guessing it is their (failing) attempt to conquer geese.          

My other neighbor has an awesome garden.  All year long.  Right now, popping out through the snow and 10 degree weather, she has tulips popping up out of the ground.  No lie.  I'm partially baffled but not really because I have a black thumb.  An awesome gardener is an awesome gardener, right?  WRONG GERTIE, WRONG.  (I changed her name for my protection so no one can really find where I live by searching my next door neighbor's name privacy reasons.)  Over the summer she told me she would be away for week.  I responded as a good neighbor would do and told her I would be happy to collect her mail or water her garden for her.  She told me "No, I don't do anything to my garden."  ???  are you serious.  Well, you'd better believe when she was away I did some research of my own.  Fake flowers.  Fake.  Flowers.        

             

Rise above.    From someone who knows nothing about decorating, do something like this instead.           

Happy Happy New Year, Friends

I hope the beginning of your New Year was as good as mine.  Family.  Friends.  Not much more you need.  Last night we rung in the New Year with too much beer, champagne, wine, Malibu and pineapple.  We had over an old friend and her man, and our best couple friends.  It was delightful.  I couldn't find my camera which is outrageous because as the ball as dropping, so was Mr Incredible.  On our kitchen floor.  On his eager way to replenish someone's champagne. 

Speaking of memories.  What did you do ten years ago last night?  Hide in your basement?  Pray a rosary or 59?  Ate, drank and be merry because tomorrow you'll surely be dead?  Or did you sit on your family room couch (I was in 8th grade then wt_?) and pooh pooh your mom and the rest of the world's anxiety?

Mr Incredible and I started a new tradition last night (actually it was going to be our Christmas Eve tradition last year, but this year it's been pushed to NYE).  We gave the girls and each other new pajamas.  So we'll wake up in new pajamas in a new year.  Fun.

 not mr incredible.  this looks like the guy who made the bread last post.

And then come this morning, we had family over for a brunch.  We made this french toast, quiche, pull apart bread, pineapple, Baileys in coffee (need something to compensate for the champagne that we drank last night that was supposed to be reserved for mimosas this morning.)  Good end to a good year.  Good start to a better one.

Direct Quote

A week before Christmas, Mr Incredible and I got a babysitter (read: my mom) so we could go Christmas shopping together.  My favorite moment:

"Why they gotta make these dolls so ugly?"

Thanksgiving Countdown (Fat Free Vegan Pumpkin Pie)

Im not really sure when I got hooked on telling the world fat free vegan recipes. Actually I do know. It's when some of my family decided it was for them. And my world of hosting turned up-side-down. (k, I'm being completely dramatic, but you just can't order a pizza...)

So here's a tried and true Fat Free Vegan Pumpkin Pie. From my sister, who, although sharing her life with a vegan, is a noteworthy meat eater :)

Apparently this pie makes it's own crust:


Impossible Vegan Pumpkin Pie

1 1/2 cups soymilk
1 tbsp. Ener-G egg replacer*
1/4 cup water*
1 tbsp. cornstarch
1 tsp. vanilla
2 cups pureed or mashed cooked pumpkin (or cushaw or winter squash)
1/2 cup rice flour (or flour of your choice--not whole wheat)
2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp. ginger powder
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. salt

Preheat oven to 350 F. Spray a 9-inch deep dish pie pan with cooking spray. (I used a Pyrex pan, and it came out with no sticking.) A deep dish is recommended because this pie will rise a lot during cooking but will fall back down as it cools.

Put the first five ingredients in the blender, and blend well. Add the pumpkin, and puree. Add the remaining ingredients and blend on high for 2 minutes, stopping to scrape the sides a couple of times to make sure everything is thoroughly blended. Pour into a pie pan and bake for about 60 minutes. The top and edges should be brown, but the edges should not be over-done. (Since this is a custardy pie, using the standard toothpick or knife test does not work; it will remain somewhat moist in the center, but it shouldn't be uncooked.)

Remove from the oven and allow to cool on the counter. For best results, refrigerate until chilled before eating.

*If you don't have Ener-G egg replacer, you can omit it and the 1/4 cup water and use any other replacement for two eggs. Of course, if you're not vegan, you could use two eggs, but why not give the vegan version a chance?

153 calories, 1g fat, 3g fiber

found on fat free vegan blog

(sorry no picture, no link, no bold, reader friendly post- don't know what's up with blogger right now?)

Thanksgiving Countdown (Cranberry Sauce)

My peeps: I'm gonna let you in a family recipe. Or at least that is what I thought until my mom told me otherwise. For as long as I can remember, we've had this stuff at Thanksgiving dinner. The aroma when you make it is nearly unbearable. You might think you died and made it to heaven. Here goes it:

Cranberry Sauce

1 Large Package of Raspberry Jello

1 large bag of cranberries (usually 12 or 16 oz), sorted

1 orange with rind, seeds removed

1 cup of sugar

1. Make Jello according to package
2. In a food processor or blender, grind the cranberries and orange with rind . Add the sugar and let dissolve.
3. When the Jello starts to congeal, incorporate cranberry mixture into the Jello.
4. Put mixed Jello into a mold (which my mom does not do) or a glass bowl because "the color is absolutely gorgeous."

Enjoy!!

HGTV

Tell me please. Who doesn't love HGTV? And guess what? They are coming to my county, and casting for young families. !!! So guess how we're spending a chunk of our day? Taking family photos outside of our house, of course. I can barely stand it.

They are casting for a Holiday "Battle on the Block." 6 participating families will decorate the outside of their house in competition for the title 'Best Holiday House.'

If we are selected, and even if we're not (we're first time home owners- we've never decorated the outside of our house for Christmas) I'll need your help and suggestions, friends! Do you have any ideas for not over-the-top, tasteful holiday decorating? Please share. (please!)

did i over do it with the italics? i'm so excited i don't care.

Care Packages For Soldiers

There are a lot of people I know who for the Holiday Season give to those in need whether it be by financially donating, volunteering at a soup kitchen, or receiving a name from an organization of a less fortunate person or family with their wish (or need) list. If you are thinking about doing this, don't forget those who are serving our country!! My brother is in Iraq right now and he said so many men and women don't get care packages. That is unbelievable to me! Imagine serving overseas and not getting any sort of pick-me-up. Don't forget our troops!

It used to be that you could get a name, or label a care package "Any Soldier." That has since stopped for security reasons. However, I'm sure you can go to a local church or organization and request someone's name and address via word of mouth. I also found some websites that you can donate money for care packages to be sent.

-Any Soldier

-Treat Any Soldier

If you can get a name and send a package yourself, here are some things to include:

-a letter

-energy bars

-energy drinks

-calling cards

-appropriate entertainment (like a recent movie release, book, cd..)

-the necessities (that we take for granted) like toothbrush, baby wipes (apparently that's a biggie), tylenol.

-Beef jerky

-junk food