:: Adventures in Baking with the Easy Bake Oven ::

My son wants to be a Chef. 

Actually, he tells everyone he is already a Chef. He can make scrambled eggs - and very well, I might add. Jason and I really try to encourage Ben to cook. We think it's great he's so interested in it. Plus, he really enjoys eating the food he makes himself, which is fantastic, since he can be a bit of a picky eater at times.

Ben got an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas. Unfortunately, we hadn't been able to try it out since we could not find a 100-watt lightbulb anywhere. Remember 100-watt lightbulbs? You could buy a four pack of them at Wal-Mart for about 88 cents? Well, guess what? They don't carry them anymore. Crazy, right? They have all switched to energy efficient bulbs and the closest you can find is a 90-watt bulb. So, I went ahead and bought the lightbulb and figured we would just have to leave the goodies we were baking in the oven a little longer to compensate for the lack of wattage. Turns out I was right... we had to cook the cookies we made about two minutes longer than the directions listed. It really wasn't a big deal at all.

I really wish the Easy Bake Oven designer people would have left well enough alone and kept the little "oven" look for the new Easy Bake Ovens. They look like microwaves now. It's "Easy Bake Oven," right? Oh well. The good news is that it works exactly the same as it did when I was a kid. I guess lightbulb-cooking technology really hasn't changed much in the last 30 years. 

The oven comes with packages of cookie and cake mixes that only require about a teaspoon of water to mix. It's super easy, and it was a ton of fun. Of course Ben's attention span didn't last the 10 minutes it took to make the cookies, but he did help take the cookies out and he washed the little pans.  I'm proud of my little Chef.

Ben waiting for the Easy Bake Oven to warm up...

 Cookies before baking.

Waiting for the cookies to finish baking.

Cookies after baking. Yeah, I know... they're tiny.

Ben LOVED the cookies, and that's what counts.

 

:: Move Your Boogie Body ::

I logged on to Facebook this morning and noticed a link my friend Rachel had posted to a jazzercise video from 1982.  I decided to check it out, and well, it was hysterical.  So, I thought I would share.  

This reminds me of a record my Mom had back when I was a little girl. It was a workout routine to "Do the Hustle" and I LOVED it.

Enjoy...

:: Pugs! ::

I just installed the updated software for my flip camera, so to try it out, I recorded our dogs. For those of you that don't know, my Mom and I both have Pug puppies.  I have a female black Pug, named Phoebe, and my Mom has her brother, a fawn Pug named Otis.  Somehow, Otis is about twice the size of Phoebe.  They are both incredibly funny.  They are also both completely crazy. Pug puppies are non-stop insanity.  But they are so worth it... they have amazing personalities and are very lovable, you just have to put up with moments of unbelievable madness.  

So, here they are fighting over a chew bone.  Now, keep in mind that they were each given a chew bone of their very own.  They just wanted the SAME chew bone.  (insert eye roll here...)

  

:: Random Photos ::

Okay, so I have a few posts I am working on right now, but obviously I haven't finished them.  I have spent the last few days helping Jason take photos for his website, cleaning house and attempting to get caught up with laundry. Laundry... bleh....

While I was helping Jason with photos, I came across some recent pictures I had taken.  So, I thought I would share...

Ben helping me with laundry.

Phoebe.

Sam + Phoebe = Trouble

Ben.

I hope all of you are having a great weekend.  I'll have more posts up soon...

:: I've Got the Fever... Spring Cleaning Fever! ::

As you probably already know, my favorite time of year is fall.  But a very close second is spring time.  Crisp, cool mornings and warm (but not hot) afternoons.  Sunshine and showers. A sense of renewal and awakening.  Yep, I've definitely got Spring Fever.

And for me, one of the symptoms of Spring Fever is a desperate need to clean the house and "air things out," so to speak.  But there was one thing, one big thing, getting in my way this spring... 

We have too much clutter. Too. Much. Clutter. And clutter is a clever creature. It has a way of sneaking up on you and before you know it, you can't open a closet door without risking an avalanche of crap burying you alive.  Not to mention dresser drawers and kitchen cabinets. Clutter. It's everywhere.  And quite frankly, it's time clutter took a hike.

So, we decided to have a yard sale this weekend.  I figured that was the best way to conquer the clutter... get it out of our house and turn it into money at the same time.  So, we have started our quest for yard sale inventory.  Our first stop... Benjamin's bedroom and closet.  Our child has an absurd amount of toys and clothes.  Most of which he never plays with anymore and has outgrown.  Last night we finished clearing out his room.  We have three huge boxes of toys and clothes to sell this weekend.  And his room looks amazing.  I am definitely motivated to keep going.  Today... it's the guest room and hall closet.  

We have a strategy to conquer our clutter.  We have two boxes, one small box marked "Keep" and one large box marked "Sell." (I suggest U-Haul boxes... they are affordable and sturdy and come in any size you can imagine.)  We also have a large black trash bag.  We pick up each item, and we have about five seconds to declare the item "Sell," "Keep" or "Trash."  That's it.  If it takes too long to decide, then it goes into the "Sell" box.  No exceptions.  And we have a rule... once the item goes in the "Sell" box and gets put in the garage, it does NOT come back into the house.  If anything is left over after the yard sale, it gets boxed up and finds a new home at Goodwill.  

So, once we get the house scoured for all our yard sale goodies, we will price everything and have ourselves a big 'ole sale and hopefully raise some good money.  

Then, and this is the best part.... next week, the cleaning begins. That's right. A ceiling to floor cleaning that our house desperately needs.  I can't wait.  I'll keep you posted on our progress...

:: Hair's To A Great Cause ::

my apologies for the silly pun...

So, I was going to tell you all about this back in November of last year. But then I thought about it and I was afraid it might come across a little braggadocios.  Like "hey, look at me and the awesome thing I did! Aren't I great?!"

But I was cleaning off my dresser the other day and came across the thank-you card I got, and I decided that I would share this with you. It's a great cause and I don't know how many people actually know about it.

As you know, my Mother-in-Law lost her brave battle with cancer last June.  I remember when she first started chemo and began losing her hair.  She had a really incredible attitude about it. She said she looked forward to wearing wigs again like she did in the 60's.   I tried to imagine how I would cope with losing all of my hair.  I have an unnatural attachment to my hair.  The thought of losing my hair made me panic.

When my son was born in November 2004, I went and got my hair cut into a bob just above my shoulders.  Then I let it grow.  Aside from a few trims throughout the years, I never cut it.  It grew.  And grew.  And grew. Until I had a head of hair all one length that reached my lower back.  It was very Marsha Brady.

So, in November 2008 I decided that I was going to donate my hair in memory of my Mother-in-Law.  I was able to donate about 14 inches of hair.  And I have to say, I was really proud of myself, not just for donating my hair, but for being able to do it.  Like I said, I have an unnatural attachment to my hair.  So, having it cut off was a big deal for me. But after I did it, all I could think was why didn't I do this sooner?! I love my new haircut. No more Brady Bunch hair for me, thank you.

Locks of Love turns donations of human hair into wigs for children. Most children who receive wigs from Locks of Love suffer from an autoimmune disease called alopecia areata, which has no known cause and unfortunately no known cure.  Other recipients are cancer survivors, victims of trauma such as burns and rare dermatological conditions that result in permanent hair loss. 

I am so glad I was able to help.  And I am thankful to my Mother-in-Law for the inspiration to do so.  

For more information about Locks of Love, visit their website at www.locksoflove.org.  

:: And The Dog Came Back... The Very Next Day ::

A Cautionary Tale

We love animals.  We have two dogs, two cats, four fish and about three dozen sea monkeys. We would actually have more pets, but we are realistic and for the most part practical people, so we realize we have enough critters for now.  

Since we love animals, and since my husband is a big softy for anything cute and furry, we have, on occasion, helped a few stray animals find their way back home.  So, last weekend, when Benjamin ran into the house and yelled "Mama, come see the cute gray puppy Dada found," I wasn't surprised. That was, until I opened the garage door and saw the biggest wolf-shepherd-dog-hybrid creature looking me right in the eyes. This dog was ginormous.  But he was actually very sweet, so I had no problem with Jason putting him the backyard while we waited to see if someone came looking for the lost dog.  After playing with the dog in the backyard, Jason discovered that he can sit, stay, heel and shake. So, someone must be missing this incredible dog, right?

No one came looking for the dog.  So, we drove around the neighborhood to look for lost dog signs and to see if any of the kids playing outside had met someone looking for a lost dog. Nothing.  So, we left the big dog in the backyard for the night.  

The next morning, which was Sunday, we decided to put up some signs announcing that we had found a "German Shepherd Mix?" and listed our cell number.  We got one call... it was a girl calling to see if we had found a Boxer. Sunday night came, and still no news about the big gray dog's owners.

Then, around 10:00 p.m., we get a knock on our front door - it's our pajama-clad neighbors telling us that the stray we were harboring had just chewed a hole in our fence and was running around the front of their house.  I. was. not. happy.  The dog had chewed a huge hole in our gate.  Not cool.

Jason puts the dog back in the yard, and we put up the plastic kiddie gate and our concrete bird bath in front of the hole, thinking this would somehow deter the dog from chewing himself free again.  We came inside and decided it was time to call animal control.  

Guess what?  Animal control doesn't work on the weekends. Fine. We'll call first thing Monday morning.  We go to check on the dog, and we find that he has started ANOTHER HOLE in our back fence - the fence we share with our neighbors. 

That was enough for me.  I opened the gate and the big gray dog ran out.  After all, he was not OUR responsibility.  Right?  He ran off into the dark of night.  I just knew that he would safely find his way back home.  Well, that's what I told myself, to feel better about kicking him out of the yard.

Then at 2:00 a.m. we wake up to a weird noise outside our bedroom window. We go see what's up.... IT'S THE BIG GRAY DOG AGAIN! This time, he chewed his way BACK into our yard. This is NOT our dog! I was way beyond livid, to say the least.

We call back the police non-emergency number to let our friendly, but otherwise useless, dispatcher know that the dog we called about earlier is now destroying our property - and we needed someone to come out and pick him up.  NOW. He says that unless the dog is vicious, there's nothing he can do. Um, hello?!?  He is chewing up our property!!! That's when we let him know that we have a four year old and his safety is our priority and if this otherwise friendly dog will tear down a fence to get somewhere, how can we be sure he wouldn't turn aggressive towards our son or other pets?  He says fine, he'll send someone out.

So, as we are waiting for the animal control truck to show up, you can imagine our surprise when a police car pulls up to our house.  The friendly useless dispatcher sent out law enforcement to shut us up.  The officer (who is equipped with pepper spray, a Taser, a billy club and a GUN) quickly pushes his way into our house once Jason opens the door.  Look, if he's worried about a big dog and he's got that much ammo at his disposal, there's no doubt we should be a little worried, too.  Seriously.

Jason walks him through the house to the backyard.  He sees the dog and walks around our property looking at the damage.  He tells Jason that there is nothing he can do until 8:00 Monday morning.  Jason proceeds to tell him that he has a wife waiting inside (that would be me) and if he has to go back in the house and tell me the dog has to stay until morning, there will be all sorts of hell to pay - for every one involved.

That's when the policeman starts to play with the big gray dog.  And the dog shows him how he can sit, and stay and shake... apparently dog-loving men just can't resist a good dog that can shake paw. The officer tells Jason that he, his wife and their six kids have been looking for a good dog.  And he can't feel a chip in the dog's neck, so it might be that he doesn't have one, and to save the dog a trip to the animal shelter, he will take him.  So, he loads the dog into the back of the police car and takes off to put the dog in his yard where he can stay until he gets off of his shift.  Whew.   That was awesome. What a relief!

So, Monday morning I wake up and get our dogs fed and open the back door to let them out and that's when I see HIM.  In our backyard, sleeping under our son's play fort.  His paws are covered with dirt.  He came back.  Like really bad heartburn or a recurring nightmare.  The damn dog came back!!!

So, Jason calls and leaves a message for the officer at the station, and I do a little detective work and find the policeman's home number.  We call him and that's when we found out that the big gray dog had chewed a hole through his brand new fence and got out before he even got off of his shift.  He didn't want the dog.  But, okay, so in the dog's defense, the policeman saw where he had chewed through our fence, so it's not like it should have been any big surprise. The policeman said he would call animal control as soon as he hung up with us.

About two hours later, animal control shows up.  And being his usual charming self, the big gray dog walks right up to the animal control officers and they put a leash around him and he jumps right up into the back of the truck.  "Oh wow, he's a great dog" the one officer said. Yeah, right, lady.

They run a scan on his back and he did indeed have a chip.  They knew his owner's address and contact information and after a few minutes, they pulled away from our house.  So, I hope that the big gray dog made it back home and his owners were happy to see him again.

But, I still have this fear that one day, I am going to open up the back door, and he'll be there... waiting for me...