Bombshells and Blueberry Puppy Dogs

These Magic Moments {Costa Rica Edition}

Last night Kiddo was telling us how he wanted to move to Costa Rica. As much as we dream of that as well, we tried to explain that is just isn’t feasible.

“But I still have all our Costa Rica money,” he said. “We can move there and be rich.” He ran to his room and dug through his fire engine bank. He proudly presented me with 350 Colones…the equivalent of 69 cents.

Maybe not this year…

Looking back at photos, it’s easy to see why he was so utterly enchanted by that distant land full of magical moments…

Movie Theater Mayhem

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Dear Incompetent Parents of Obnoxious Children:

Please stay out of my movie theater. I beg you. If I had more balls (or technically any at all) I would whip around in my chair and tell you to control your rotten child, but alas, I was raised with manners—unlike you.

I go to the discount theater with my own child fully realizing there is more leniency there. It is where I taught my toddler how to behave in a movie theater. But I TAUGHT him.

It is not a place where you let kids run wild and free. We are not at the zoo or playground.

I really did not appreciate your little boy bouncing on the back of my chair and blowing spit bubbles into my ear. I was rather annoyed when he dumped his jumbo candy into my purse (perhaps sugar was not the best thing to give a wired child considering ~~you~~ I wanted him to SIT STILL). I started getting pissy when he began shouting “I want to go home!” at the top of his whiney voice. Guess what? I really freaking wanted him to go home too. Perhaps that was a subtle clue for you to remove him to a place where you could have a nice little chat about indoor voices.

I understand kids will wiggle around and talk during movies. This is a given. My own child does a bit. But when you converse back with him in your full-on-New-Jersey outdoor voice you really aren’t setting very good example. You kinda need to whisper to him, get close in his ear, and explain that YOU DON’T YELL DURING A MOVIE. You drop your voice to that very quiet but dead serious tone and tell him. If you do not have that very useful I mean business now voice, get one. Threaten his life or to take away his TV or video games or his popcorn and candy. Or heaven forbid, tell him if he doesn’t behave he will miss the rest of the movie.

You see, kids don’t automatically know how to behave in theaters (or restaurants, on airplanes, I could go on and on). It is not an innate behavior. That is why we must TEACH them how they should behave. It’s kinda our job.

So asking him, “Jakie, don’t you want to sit down?” isn’t really going to work. Obviously he does NOT want to sit down. He wants to run up the row bumping everyone’s chairs and making us spill our drinks in our laps. You TELL him to sit down. Try it. It may work better. YOU are the parent. And if you cannot control your spawn in any way it is time to leave.

And that brings me to people with infants. I completely understand it’s too hard and ridiculously expensive to get a sitter. That’s why I have no life. You can bring your infant to a movie if it will stay sleeping or at least content. But if that baby starts screaming at the tops of its tiny yet extremely effective lungs it is time to STEP OUTSIDE. I don’t care if you don’t want to miss a part of the movie. THE REST OF US don’t want to miss it either. When I can’t hear the already deafening dialog over your baby’s wailing it’s time to go. And bouncing in the isle while the baby wails and you hiss “shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhh” over the sound of the movie doesn’t cut it either. Into the lobby, I beg you.

What’s missing in these situations is a little thing called common courtesy. I understand it is no longer common, but please learn about it.

And Incompetent Mom—you are SO lucky it was a cheapo movie. If I had paid $15 a piece just for us to walk in the door I would have been in the managers face to have you removed. But alas, there are always a few families like your around, which is why I hardly ever set foot in a movie theater anymore. Life is too short to pay to be in your presence for 2+ hours.

Sincerely,

A Mom with Manners

Flippant Friday: Pinterest is for Sickos

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I’ve been a little off this week. The first back-to-school cold has hit—not the Kiddo—but me. So I’ve been lucky to get any home-cooked food on the table. No creative cooking for me.

Since I have been hopped up on Dayquil (non-drowsy—yes, non-hallucinogenic—no) I haven’t been getting much done. I was actually too out of it to READ. That is nearly impossible. I had to find other pursuits to occupy my long days alone.

I delved into Pinterest.

An addiction was born.

I mean, what better entertainment is there when your eyes are glazed over and you need vast quantities of time wasted? Thousands upon thousands of neat and nifty gifts, recipes, fashion, decorating ideas flashing right before your eyes in a never-ending stream.

And I learned so many vital things this week:

I am not crafty.

I take crappy photos.

I do not know how to accessorize.

I need to learn to walk in high ~~hells~~ heels.

I need many scarves and I must learn how to tie them.

I can dig out all my old jewelry from high school. It’s back in style.

I am grateful my Grandma gave me loads of vintage jewelry—it’s back in style too.

I need belts and brightly colored shoes.

I must work harder to create unique gifts for teachers, relatives, and everyone in my life, because apparently I don’t care enough to send the very best.

I should spend more time decorating my abode to create a dreamlike home full of tranquility and bliss.

I should have colored handbags to match all of my colored shoes and accessories.

I do not know how to decorate for the holidays.

There are far too many recipes containing cream of chicken/mushroom/celery soup (ick).

Mad Men brought 50’s dresses and glamor back.

That glamor can work with tattoos (who knew?).

I knew I should have been saving all of my wine corks to make cool projects.

Braids and buns are back in style.

There are many other Nutella addicts out there.

I need to save money to travel, so I can’t buy above listed scarves, jewelry, purses, and shoes.

I need to win the lottery to buy all this stuff and pay someone to dress me, decorate my house, and make crafty things (so I can take all the credit).

So, instead of cooking, I’ll just link you up with some of the fav recipes I found.

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins

Frozen Samoa Pie

Donut & Nutella Acorns

Pumpkin Cheesecake Truffles

Nutella Donuts

*Absolutely NONE of these are mine, but I DO plan on trying them all out.

Have you been bit by the Pinterest bug yet?

Chasing Skirt

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Hello. My name is Vinobaby, and I may have a slight skirt obsession. Not necessarily chasing them (ahem, not my thing), but buying them and wearing them.

For some reason, I just cannot pass up a cute skirt. I brought home two more today. And two a few days before. But they were cheap — $1.82 for a gorgeous Ann Taylor sable suede and only $3 a piece for some adorable summer prints. I can’t help myself.

I think it all started about four years ago when Kiddo entered pre-school. I no longer spent my entire day on my hands and knees picking up blocks from under the couch and cheerios from every nook and cranny imaginable. I didn’t have to worry about bending over all day. And I was tired of looking like a unkempt hause frau.

So I bought a khaki skort to test the waters. I could still bend over at the playground without showing of my VS striped panties. It worked. Soon I ditched the skorts for real skirts. They were cooler and more comfortable than anything else I had worn. And paired with a simple tank or t-shirt I looked, as one SAHM friend commented, all dressed-up and nice…

Skirts started showing up in stores like TJ Maxx and Marshalls. For just a few bucks I could wear something besides khaki shorts and a t-shirt to Open House. Once I started hitting the thrift stores, forget it — a skirt girl was born.

And now I’m wondering: are my frugal fashionista ways are turning into an addiction? Compulsion? Hoarding? Disease?

I just counted and I found at least 38 hanging in my over-stuffed closet. I’m out of hangers. And I didn’t count the work skirts or suit bottoms I may someday wear if I ever make it back to the corporate world. Or, more likely, at least I may wear them again someday to a funeral or something.

But I probably paid less for all of those skirts than a normal woman pays for one pair of shoes. That makes it okay, right? (Say yes, say yes, say yes…) I may have a habit, but it’s cheaper than Cristian Louboutins, Louis Vuittons, or crack…

Louboutin Double Noued Sandals $995

Louis Vuitton Cabas PM Escale $1,490

And I feel great about myself when I am wearing my skirts…free, feminine, fun, and flirty…I can take on the world, Baby.

Now the question is…will I go out for more today?

TangerineCello Recipe

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“Pure sunshine in a bottle.”

That’s my favorite description of Limoncello, the refreshing and iconic drink of the Italian Coast. Hubby and I fell in love with the lemon liquor during our honeymoon in Italy. After each dinner (and occasionally even lunch) our cameriere (waiter) would deliver the delightful chilled shot glass of brilliant yellow liquid. Whether sipped or shot, a glass of this elixir leaves you with a slight afterglow, as if you have been kissed by the sun.

Since we couldn’t stay in Italy forever (oh, how I wish we could have) we had to hunt down our new favorite after-dinner digestivo stateside. Ten years ago, that wasn’t so easy. Luckily, a co-worker’s Italian Mother graced us with her family recipe. Making limoncello became Hubby’s passion, nearly an obsession, as he tried to duplicate the taste he so fondly remembered from our lazy days in Italian cafes.

Don’t worry, we shared. Limoncello became a holiday tradition. Friends and relatives threatened to withhold our gifts if we didn’t give them another years supply under the tree. Yeah, it was that good.

When we moved into our home we were pleased to discover it came with a mature tangerine tree. It produced bushels of fruit. And we had no idea what to do with all of it. One year Hubby got a flash of culinary brilliance and decided to adapt our Limoncello recipe to use up our bounty of tangerines.

A new specialty drink was born. And drunk. And enjoyed.

I’m going to share our TOP SECRET recipe with you. This recipe makes quite a big batch — enough to last you a year (unless you have a wicked drinking problem) and to share. Make it. Your friends will LOVE you…

Trattoria Morgan’s Tangerine Cello**

**(to make Limoncello simply sub lemons for the tangerines)

1 kilo tangerines – 2.2 lbs (about 10)
1 liter grain alcohol*
1.25 liters water
700 grams (3 1/2 cups) sugar

Step 1

Zest tangerines. Take a zester or a fine grater and remove only the colored part of the rind. *Avoid the white pith — it is bitter and will change the flavor.* (This part is messy, but your whole house will smell like a citrus grove.)

Pour the grain alcohol into a large glass jug or jar (must have a lid to seal). Add the zested rind. Let it sit for two weeks. (Yes, it must be glass. Large mason jars or recycled gallon sized wine bottles work well. The citric acids will corrode plastic.)

Step 2 (two weeks later)

In a large pot, bring the water and sugar to a boil. Stir until sugar is completely dissolved. Cool.

Layer some cheesecloth over a mesh strainer and set over a large bowl. Pour the grain/rind carefully into the strainer, filtering out all of the rind. Pour the (nice orange) alcohol back into the glass jar.

Add in cooled sugar water.

Let it sit another week or two. Store in glass or distribute into smaller, decorative bottles. Keep servings in the freezer — it is best ice cold.

*Many recipes call for vodka, but we prefer grain. Higher alcohol content = no chance of it freezing when you store it in the freezer. But if you can ‘t find grain (I’m told some states won’t sell it?) you can use vodka.

Take three shots and email me in the morning.
If you do any more I don’t want to hear from you (and don’t blame your hangover on me).

Salute!

{that’s “cheers” in Italian, you know…}

Wordless Wino Wednesday: The Morning After

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On a much lighter note…

Remnants of a good night.

{No, not last night, but a memorable recent Saturday evening.}

2005 Silver Oak Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon

2008 Gnarley Head Old Vine Zin

2009 Big Ass Zin

and a reserve bottle of Winking Owl Chardonnay

Steaks on the grill

Potato, Proscuitto, & Fontina Cakes (recipe to come)

Sabrina’s Spinach Salad

Cheers, lovelies…

When Grace is Gone

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Her name was Ava Grace, and she wasn’t meant to be…

The name was not definite— it could have been Mia or Sera or Julia or even Jack—but from the moment I felt her blooming within me, I imagined her every detail. Strawberry blond pigtails bounced as she giggled at tickly belly kisses; a smattering of inevitable freckles danced across her nose; dimpled hands grasped a pink blanket, her fingers working the silky fabric as she drifted of to sleep. She was radiant…and she was mine.

My vintage Barbies, Cabbage Patch Kids, and even an antique Betsy-Wetsy doll would decorate her nursery. Below her ruffled dresses, Band-aids would plaster her constantly scraped knees, for after she spent hours lost in magical storybook worlds, she’d tear through our garden searching for faireis hidden amidst the sunflower stalks and rose blooms.

She was real—the tangible, thriving child of my dreams—then she was gone.

Three times I let her slip away. My body failed her. My love wasn’t strong enough to bind her to me, to keep her alive. Somehow I just couldn’t make her be. Though technically it was never my fault, my guilt is a scar that will never truly fade.

When you have one healthy, amazing child no one seems to understand that fortune may not fall on you again. An uncomfortable shrug and downcast eyes became my only response to the constant questioning about when we were going to provide our son with a sibling. Losses were brushed aside as savage words bit to the bitter core.

You already have one child—there’s no reason you can’t have more. It’s just not in God’s plan right now. There must have been something wrong with it. You don’t really want another mouth to feed, do you? It’s for the best. God will give you another baby when you are ready. It’s so early it’s not a big deal. It’s not like it was a “real” baby you had held or anything…

The wait consumed me each month. Days ticked by in a blur as I obsessed about recreating her, dreamed I was worthy of breathing life into her tiny cells. Fertility drugs sent me teetering to the edge. Prayers went unanswered. What little faith I once held was washed away in a tide of blood.

Constant failure beat me down until I could no longer withstand the jabs of frustration, the gut-punches of hearbreak and grief. I finally broke. A dull husk shivering on the bathroom floor was all that remained. I surrendered while my shattered spirit still had a chance to piece itself back together.

Life goes on, forever fluid as a river, at times flooding my heart with joy, yet occasionally still receding, leaving me brittle and barren. There will always be a lingering part of my soul adrift. A glimpse of a shy smile on a little girl in a crowd, graceful laughter carried in on the breeze—that could have been her.

In time, I chose to declare peace with the past so I could embrace my family’s future. I chose to find grace in the bounty of beautiful moments life granted me instead of lamenting what had been denied. Our threesome may not be all I had longed for, but it is complete, and it is enough.

Her name was Ava Grace, and her soul was not meant for this world.

Party Pineapple Upside-down Cupcakes Recipe

Fab &Funny Wine Charms

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Saturday night we had friends over for an evening of wine tasting, recipe experimentation, and intelligent conversation. I broke out the “good” Waterford tulip white wine glasses only to find {gasp} trash bag twist ties wrapped around their delicate bases. Hubby couldn’t find our wine charms and went all MacGyver on me. Hence, our Redneck Wine Charms.

I was not amused.

It was time to find some proper wine charms. It does get rather old trying to delineate whose glass is whose…especially after you have consumed a few glasses…

The only place I could find ANY cool, fun, or funky wine charms was Etsy. Which ones should I choose?