Quick! It's a Christmas Craft for the Chirrens!

This is going to be quick because well, I have a few other crafts to get to this evening, what with Christmas hot on my heels and a husband who very possibly could hop online to chat soon!

Those of us who've been Pinterested in pinning and testing out new crafts have probably seen this one.  Borax + boiling water + pipe cleaners (and maybe even yarn) = Awesome and easy Christmas ornaments for the kids to make!

I bought pipe cleaners at the Dollar Store, grabbed a box of borax from the grocery store and gave it a try last night.  It was really easy and fun.  The hardest part for the girls was being careful with the boiling water (p.s., I used my electric tea kettle to heat up batches of water quickly, which made pouring easier for them) and the hardest part for me was waiting!  But, it was really fun watching the crystals form over the course of the evening. 

Here's the link I followed to create my first ornaments.  I have yet to spray them or try any other type of preservation.   I'll update if we get that far before moving on to our next project, which will probably involve Borax and maybe some Elmer's glue (Flubber, anyone?).

So pretty!  Green and red pipe cleaners. 

The white yarn I used to hang the pipe cleaners in the Borax solution was almost better than the pipe cleaners!  The frayed pieces of yarn, almost invisible unless you're looking hard for them, created little droplets of crystals hanging from the yarn.  Stay tuned for more yarn-dippin'.

The girls came up with lots of great ideas for ornaments that we'll, no doubt, be trying over the next few weeks.  Here's a curly icicle and the start of a few candy canes.

I'm sort of thinking this newfound art project might turn out to be something similar to the first week of deep-fryer ownership.  Time to think of all the different things we can dip.

Enjoy!

The Banana Bread

This doesn't need much introduction, but if you try it, you'll LOVE it!  That's all I have to say right now.  Oh, except that this stuff freezes really well and the frosting, while not mandatory, adds a certain yum to it.

Banana Bread/Cake

3 bananas, mashed

1 cup sour cream

1/4 cup margarine

1  1/3 cup white sugar

2 eggs or 1/2 cup egg product

1 tsp. vanilla

2 cups flour 

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. salt

1 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp. nutmeg

dash of clove powder

Handful of any of the following:  dried apricots, golden raisins or boiled cranberries

1/3 cup sliced almonds (they are optional, but when you toast them in a fry pan first, they add SO much yummy goodness!!)

Grease and flour a 9x13 pan (I use a Pyrex dish for best results) or two 7x3 loaf pans.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix bananas and sour cream.  Set aside.  Mix margarine and sugar until well blended.  Add eggs, one at a time.  Then stir in vanilla, banana/sour cream mixture and raisins/apricots/cranberries.  Combine flour, salt, baking powder and baking soda.  Stir into mixture and pour into pan.  If using almonds, sprinkle them on top.  Bake at 350 for 50 minutes or until toothpick inserted into center of cake comes out clean.

Serve with frosting or butter.  This cake freezes VERY well!

My frosting recipe is really easy, it's just two 8 oz. packages of cream cheese, 1/2 cup margarine, 2 cups powdered sugar, 1 tsp. vanilla and lemon juice to taste.  Mix cream cheese, butter, vanilla and 1 cup of sugar together.  Add additional sugar until desired sweetness is reached.  Add 1/2 tsp. lemon juice and adjust up from there if more tartness is desired.  This makes a good amount of frosting, but this frosting also freezes well for you to save in case the kids want to frost cookies or cupcakes.  Enjoy! 

That carbuncle is actually a juicy, tart cranberry.  This loaf is FULL of them!  Oh, yeah!

It's All About The Cranberries

I've always been fond of cranberries.  I've even tried to grow them once.  I failed, but I might try again someday...when I don't live in the middle of a drier-than-a-popcorn-fart desert.

The berry is a pretty, bright red little gem.  It's delightfully tart and please, don't even get me started on its antioxidant benefits!  And, let's face it, it's harvested using water, and that is just too cool.  There's something so fascinating to me about the look of a cranberry bog at harvest time.  And did you know it's only one of three fruits native to North America?  Yes, it's true!  Check it out.

So, when I asked the girls the question parents all over the world ask their families every day ("So, what do you want for dinner tonight?") they gave me a one-word answer..."PANCAKES"!  I blame my brother because he fed his girls pancakes for dinner last night and then posted the picture on Facebook.  I never stood a chance of cooking anything else!

This time of year is always fun for me because I bake, cook and generally love running the oven instead of the heater.  Cranberries are one of those seasonal items I can only find this time of year.  So whenever possible, I buy a bag at the store and stuff it in my freezer, cataloging its purchase in the back of my mind.  

Twin A gives her seal of approval

Tonight was the night.  It's been a few weeks since I've worked cranberries into a meal, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to antioxidize the twins and see just how delicious these berries would be if I threw them in the batter.

They were a hit!  I don't have a recipe other than to tell you to follow the directions on a box of Bisquick (only one egg, though...keep those babies fluffy).  I added cinnamon, maple flavor and some vanilla.  For the cranberries, I put them in a pot of water on the stove and simmered them for a bit....just long enough to soften them but not so long that they split open.  I wanted to keep the tart flavor confined.  Then, I folded them into the mix and got to flippin' the flapjacks.

Oh, the disappointment.

The twins made short work of the tall stacks!  They were gone in a flash and I had to hide the extras just so I'd have something to freeze.  It was a sad moment when they realized dinner was done.  But it did my heart good to know that while they were saddened by the end of the sugarfest, they would be asking for cranberries in YET another meal.

I love to throw cranberries into everything.  Smoothies, oatmeal, yogurt...you name it, I'll cranberry it!  My version of sour cream banana bread has been morphed into cranberry-sour cream-banana bread.  And it is fanFREAKINGtastic!  Give it a try, you won't be sorry.

Look at that cranberry just BUSTING out of that loaf!

I also experimented throwing cranberries into a pumpkin cookie recipe I tried last year.  TOTALLY gonna do that one again this year.

My brother, who is an amazing cook/baker, puts them in his apple crisp.  HEAVEN!!!!

My mom does some crazy delicious stuff with them, too.  She throws them in the boiling water before she makes Stove Top stuffing.  Yeah, I know!  Those little berries turn that simple side dish into something I could EASILY make into a meal in itself.

I'm also a big fan of using a crockpot, so you can imagine my sheer joy at finding this Spiced Cranberry Cider recipe from Betty Crocker.  Oh, yeah!

What's next, you ask?  I don't know, but if I can get past wasting these joyous little berries of joy for something other than eating, I might work them into a candle or body scrub.

So, there's my take on cranberries...quite possibly my favorite berry.  Yes.  My favorite.

Holiday Hooch

I remember when I was a kid, my parents would let us have a little taste of Bailey's Irish Cream during the holidays.  I was skeptical as a kid because, well, it's booze!!!  It had a bit of a weird flavor under all the chocolately-coffee flavored goodness.  Nevertheless, I liked it and when I finally reached the age of consent, I enjoyed a splash of it in my after-dinner coffee or by itself on the rocks.  Yum!

Well, with the advent of the internet, anything is possible!  The Diver learned to snow ski watching YouTube, Twin A learned how to hand knit from a website she found during a Google search.  There is no end to the wonderful things to be found on our beloved internet.  You see where I'm going, right?  So, you can imagine the sheer joy I felt when I discovered (via Pinterest, of course) that I don't need to spend $25 for a tiny bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream.  I could MAKE IT MYSELF!!!!

Now, you know I wouldn't be posting this unless I'd already done it, but I feel the need to qualify why I made it.  First, well...it's the holiday season and nothing says "let's celebrate the birth of Christ" like a good bottle of homemade hooch, no?  Second, I'm gearing up to add a few new cookies and candies to my Christmas repertoire.  One such candy is going to involve Bailey's.  I'm not sure how just yet, but keep your eyes peeled for more info later.

So, all that being said, here's the recipe I used (modified a bit for my needs) and a cute little picture I took to showcase it's loveliness.  Enjoy!

Ingredients:

2 cans sweetened condensed milk

1 cup heavy cream

1 cup milk (I used 2%)

2 2/3 cups Irish Whiskey (I would have used Jamesons, but well...I don't drink the good stuff...any will do, even if it's not Irish, but I'm sure if it's not, that would be disrupting the order of things somehow)

2 tbsp. chocolate syrup

2 tsp. instant coffee grounds

2 tsp. vanilla extract


Here are a few notes before you mix everything up.  Make sure you have a container that you can close tightly when storing this IN THE FRIDGE.  I washed out a plastic milk carton and it works fabulously, although I had to mark it clearly with a Sharpie so the twins didn't think it was chocolate milk.

I'm not an artist, so just to clarify
...that's supposed to be a skull & crossbones

The mix is fairly thick, and from what I can imagine, you can thicken it as much or as little as you like by shifting the amount of cream and milk.  I think my next batch might be all 2% milk.

I'd also advise on blending everything but the whiskey together first.  Don't overblend, but just enough to incorporate everything.  Lastly, add the whiskey and mix in, again, not too much.  If you blend too much, the cream will separate from the whiskey and it will be GROSS.  I used a blender on low for less than 20 seconds each time.

I had a taste test about 2 hours after making my premiere batch and the coffee taste was too strong.  After letting it sit in the fridge overnight, I tried it again.  It now tastes just like Bailey's!  SUCCESS!!!

Here's what a poured glass looks like, but I don't recommend serving it with this much chocolate syrup...it gives it too much chocolate flavor.  I just wanted to see what it would look like drizzled down the side of the glass.  Kinda fun, but not worth it.

Now, get to mixing and enjoy!

Look!  It even makes a great gift!  

I Surprised Myself With Craftiness - The Christmas Post!

Normally, I'm the person who steals ideas from everyone else when it comes to being crafty.  Looking back now, I realize that I actually had one idea that I can honestly say I never swiped from someone else.  Of course, it had to revolve around my favorite holiday.  Here's how it went down...

It started with the single years:  The Christmas tree was small, but it was mine.  Every ornament was placed in the perfect spot.  It was cute, cozy and mine!

Then came the newlywed years:  The Christmas tree was twice the size...I had to share now, it was hard to get in the house and needed WAY more ornaments than we had.  Thus began the need to buy more ornaments to fill it up.  Ornament purchases became a habit, a very addictive habit, I might add.  I think someone in my family passed that addiction down to me, right mom?

The Two Thirds Tree...the bottom third has no ornaments!

And on to the new parent years:  In reality, this didn't start until the girls were about a year old.  The Christmas tree was still big, still had lots of ornaments on it, but they were getting broken at a very high frequency.  

Year Two, getting the hang of things

Finally came the "Mommy, can I help?" years.  That started when they were about 2.  They loved to hang ornaments on the tree.  They loved to hang every single ornament on the same branch.  They loved to relocate ornaments every ten minutes or so.  They broke so many ornaments.  So.  Many.  Ornaments.

This got me to thinking...what if I tried to distract them from screwing up MY tree and let them have a tree of their own?  Mind you, this revelation took two years to come to fruition and only fully formed after I read an article about how to make and paint dough ornaments.  Remember doing that when you were a kid?  So did I and as so many crafts in our house are born, after I shook off my memories of a simpler time, I was skidding around the kitchen, collecting the necessary items to bake up the cutest little ornaments ever!

I baked SO many ornaments!  I think there were probably five dozen when all was said and done.  I went shopping online and found 7 foot prelit artificial tree for a STEAL and figured that could be the tree the girls decorate.  It also doubles as added "Griswold" as it sits in the dining room window for the whole neighborhood to see.


Year one, we made popcorn and painted as many of the cookie ornaments as we could before we got tired of the craft.  Year two, we chose a new craft ornament (foam snowmen) and year three, we did bell snowmen and reindeer.  The girls get ornaments from my parents every year and they are added to the tree, too.  The tree is overloaded with ornaments, but its theirs to decorate and they love making new ornaments to add each year.

I have them mark their creations with their name and the date.  That way, when they're older, they'll have craft ornaments from each year to share with their kids.  It's a lot of fun and really, who thinks one tree is enough?  Not me!!!!

Of course, it's not always easy when there's candy involved

I still haven't figured out what their 2011 ornament will be, but I'm leaning toward something with lots of GLITTER!

Oreo Cookie Pops Made Me Into Super Mom

Tomorrow is the twins birthday and I made the mistake let them choose what 'treat' they wanted to give their classmates.  They chose "those cookie pops that Auntie Tracy made on Halloween."  Okay, I can do that.  I was lucky enough to get a running start (that means trial and error) to get them just right.  I found the recipe, tweaked it a bit, researched melting chocolates (I now know the difference between tempering and melting.  Yes, there IS a difference!  Want to know more?  CLICK HERE.

I was so excited to get this project done a full day in advance that I forgot to take the step-by-step pictures, so you'll just have to trust me on the directions I give.  First, it is TOTALLY feasible to do this as a last minute dessert, if you just do step one first and freeze.  So, that being said...here is step one!

Ingredients:  32 Oreo cookies (that's one package), 1 brick of cream cheese (the 8 oz. size), 2 cups white chocolate chips, 2 tbsp. Crisco.

Mix the cookies and cream cheese together.  I used a Cuisinart but you can use anything that gets the cookies crushed finely and fully incorporates the cream cheese.  When it's all mixed, it will look like a very dark, rich ball of shiny dirt.  Stick it in the fridge for about 15 minutes.  Take it out, using your hand or a cookie scoop, shape into 1" balls and put them on parchment paper and into the freezer they shall go!

About 30 minutes later, take them out of the freezer and put them into the fridge.  Get your chocolate and Crisco into a microwave safe dish and melt for one minute at about 70% power.  Stir, stir, stir!  I also keep a pot of hot water on the stove to reheat the chocolate in case it starts getting too thick.

If you're making truffles (basically a stick-less pop), have a plate with parchment paper close by to place finished truffles onto.  If you're going to be using sticks and making pops, have a stand or some styrofoam handy to put the sticks into to dry.

Now, Bakerella has the best instructional video that helped me dip the perfect pop and I suggest you watch it because this gal is (1) a genius and (2) also gives some great ideas and tips for lots of pops.  It only takes 4 minutes to watch.  Go, do it now...I'll wait!

Now that you know the basics, get about 4 or 5 truffles out of the fridge at a time.  If you're using a stick, try the technique you saw in the video.  If you're making truffles, use two forks to dip and lift the truffle.  Don't forget to get your sprinkles out if you're decorating them.

Here's how mine turned out.  I'm off to try a 'pseudo-raw cookie dough' truffle recipe next.  I'll be sure to keep y'all posted on that craziness.  Seriously, pseudo-raw cookie dough.  I could make a meal out of that stuff!

Recipe Time! Chocolate Peanut Butter Squares

These little gems are so easy to make and since I'm craving them, I thought I'd share the recipe!  They also work well if you're looking to make some yummy goodness for your neighbors this holiday season.  Make sure you have some room in the freezer for the pan you're going to use.

Ingredients:

1 cup butter, divided in half (that's two cubes, FYI)
1 3/4 cup confectioners sugar
1 cup peanut butter
3/4 cup graham cracker crumbs
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips or whatever high quality chocolate you might like

Blend confectioners sugar and graham cracker crumbs until well incorporated.  Melt one cube (1/2 cup) of butter in the microwave and add to sugar/graham cracker mix.  Add peanut butter last make sure it's WELL blended.  Spread mixture into pan.  I like to make little finger pokes all over the top (see the picture?  See how the chocolate is uneven?  Yeah, that's the finger poking, neato, huh?).  Put the pan in the freezer for about 20-30 minutes.

Next, melt the second cube of butter (that's another 1/2 cup) and chocolate in the microwave.  However, I like doing this on the stove, very slowly, so I can add different chocolates to get just the right flavor.  Once it's melted, take the pan out of the freezer, add the chocolate on top and spread it evenly.  Put it in the fridge and score when chocolate hardens.  Keep stored in the fridge or freezer.  They make great last minute desserts or gifts for neighbors, teachers or coworkers.  YUM!

Very Pinteresting.....

I haven't showered today.  My ONLY motivation for showering at this point is because someone is bound to start complaining if I don't.  For the past 4 hours, my butt has been firmly glued to the chair in my kitchen that sits directly in front of my computer...the computer that has recently RUINED my life by introducing me to Pinterest.  Pinterest, in turn, has threatened to turn my musings blog into a foods and crafts outlet for my new addiction.

If you don't know Pinterest yet, you will.  Your grandma might tell you about it because she's going to knit you a really cool sweater she found there.  Your girlfriend pinned the CUTEST engagement ring that you just HAVE to see!  Mom is using it to plan her entire Thanksgiving meal and well, your sister may have just found crafts to fulfill EVERY Christmas gift on her list.  But, that's not me.  I swear.

My baby sister-in-law, who NEVER gets involved in any social media outlets (think Facebook) is even hooked on Pinterest.  That, in turn, got me so excited that I walked into her hospital room last week, hours after she had given birth to the CUTEST baby boy, and uttered the phrase, "Oh, sis, I found something SO Pinteresting to tell you!"  Yes, I turned the word Pinterest into an adjective.

I now have, literally, five craft projects in the works; seven recipes yet to try; three rooms to remodel, a backyard to re-landscape and lots of pictures to frame.  I am suddenly so overwhelmed with ideas that I don't know where to start.  I can only compare it to cyber-hoarding.  Thanks to Pinterest, I am now a cyber-hoarder.

This leads me to wonder...is there anything Pinterest doesn't know?  This week, I learned how to do a fishbone braid, got 100+ ideas to pack the perfect lunchbox, make my own candles, create wonderful bows for birthday gifts, got a recipe for the ultimate sugar scrub and apparently, when I finally get motivated, there's a whole world of fitness tips for me to obsess over!

I didn't need this in my life.  Right now, I don't know if I really want this in my life.  However, if it were taken away from me tomorrow, I'd whine about it for at least a month.  I love Pinterest and I hope someday, there will be a support group for people like me.

Mature Post....don't click the link if you have kids in the room who don't know what an F-bomb sounds like.

Some time ago, I came across this book.  I love this book.  I love everything about this book.  I love that the author 'gets me'.  I love that he was able to capture, so eloquently, my frustration with bedtime.  I know many of you have already read this book.  Some of you may have even read it several times, in your head, while you're sitting in a corner sucking your thumb and wondering if there's light at the end of the bedtime tunnel.

I've attached the link here.  Go check it out and come back.  But don't say I didn't warn you.  Put your headphones on, turn your speakers down or get the kids out of the room.  Y'all are gonna hear some cussin'.

Go The F*ck To Sleep

So, what did you think?  Pure genius having Samuel L. Jackson to read this beloved tale, right?  I could listen to him talk all day and now I find myself wishing that Mr. Mansbach would write a few more books in this series.  For example, who can relate to "Brush your F***ing Teeth" or the ever-popular, "Eat Your F***ing Dinner"?  Mark my words, it will happen.

Don't get me wrong, I love my kids more than anything, but at some point we all bust a forehead vein trying to teach them that we are the bosses of the house.  There's a little laugh for the day.  Now I'm going to go kick myself for not writing this book myself.

Put That In Your Blog and Smoke It!

Best friends come in many forms.  Some are lifelong...they've known you since you were a wee one, they know the story about when you were 5 and you did ____________ (you know who you are).  Some you met in high school...you shared the same interests and planned to raise your kids together (you know who you are, too).  Others, you have thrust upon you.  Not in a bad way, mind you.  But sometimes, things are given rather than obtained.

So, one night, my brother who happens to be one in a pair of the BEST brothers ever, tells me he's met a girl.  Mmmmmkay?  Do I want to meet her?  Sure!  Why the heck not!  We head to Jim's Place (Clovis folks, you KNOW you miss that place)!  I sit down with my beer and out of nowhere comes this ball of curly blond hair.  She was all kinds of sunshine and happiness.  Oh dear.  I am so not that person.  How do I make my brother happy without offending him?  Her version of the story is even more funny, but you can't read about it...you have to hear her tell it, in person.

She seemed like a great kid.  I was glad to see my brother so happy (and it was funny to see him so nervous, too).  Her hair looked almost as big as mine, which I think endeared me to her.  Soon after they started dating, she refers me to her employer.  I was graduating from college and she was getting ready to move to another company, so she basically got me a job that lasted 6 years and hooked me up with several additional friends I know call family (and you guys know who you are, too).  She also asks me if I want to move in with her as one of her roommates is getting married and moving on.  What could be so bad about that?  She seems nice enough and I'd still get to hang out with my brother.

It's funny how you never look at a moment when you're in it and truly realize that you're making memories that will last a lifetime.  I look back at this time in our friendship and we STILL laugh about some of the weird moments, jokes and sayings that were borne of this time in our lives....the accident at Clovis and Sierra (the first time she tried to kill me) or about falling in the parking lot at the Hofbrau.  Little moments....

So, one night she and I go shopping.  She says, "I'll meet you at your folks house, I'm just going to stop at the apartment first."  I get to my parents house and my brother is FREAKING OUT because she's not there yet.  I calmly tell him no to worry because she's on her way.  No dice.  He is literally flipping out (and sort of bugging me because in my mind, she's a big girl and can take care of herself).  He hops in his car and takes off to try to find her.  I'm totally making fun of him while he's gone and next thing I know, he shows up...she shows up and they're engaged!  My genius brother asked her to marry him in the middle of the street.  Yeah, their engagement story is almost as good as mine.  Minus the puking.



Next thing you know, I'm a bridesmaid!  She really did it.  Wow, this girl must be the real deal.  She actually said yes.  I now have a sister-in-law.  But wait...it gets even better than that!  Dad gets a promotion at PG&E and he and mom are off to Arroyo Grande.  The parents have left the nest and the kids are left alone.  So, what do you think this crazy Tracy girl agrees to?  She agrees (KEEP IN MIND SHE'S A NEWLYWED) to let her husband's brother AND sister move into their brand new house with them.  I swear.  I'm not even kidding.  It was the Brady Bunch all over the place!  It was just too crazy for words.  Did she really just do that?  Yeah....she did.

I won't even attempt to share the hilarity that ensued over the next fifteen years because that would fill at least a year's worth of blog posts, but needless to say, it's some good stuff.  Babies have been born, another awesome sister-in-law has been added to the crazy mix and here we are now.  You just KNOW I'll be blogging like a nut about some of those stories (stay tuned for many of Mike and Tracy's tips for a hilariously successful marriage).

So, I guess what this particular blog is all about is my best friend/sister-wife/partner-in-crime.  Happy 19th (cough cough 40th) Birthday, Tracy, my little sister with the cutest hands and the heart of pure gold.  I couldn't ask for a better best friend/sister wife/partner-in-crime than you.  Thank you for being the positive to my negative, the Monica to my Phoebe, the Jan to my Kris.  I love you and I am so blessed to have your crazy butt in my family.

So....put that in your blog and smoke it!  ;) (PS, thanks for giving me this awesome blog title, too!)

Get to know me (and my baggage)!

Oh, please bear with me and accept my apologies in advance...I'm in a mood today and this could turn into a LONG post, partly because I have a lot to say, but mostly because I want to get this out and be done with it.

I really don't want this blog to just be all the things that grind my gears, but I'm not going to lie.  Inspiration, at least for me, comes in two forms.  Comedy and irritants.  I suppose my personal therapy is either laughing or complaining.  There are some people in my family who will attest to the latter, and I'm counting on them to do so in the comment section of this post (that's also a test to see if they're actually reading).

So, let's get down to it.  Ever since I realized I was of the fairer sex and would be the giver of life, I've wanted to have kids.  My paternal grandma had nine kids.  I'm Catholic.  It's in my nature to want to be the mom.  When I was little, I pretended to want to be a nun, mail carrier, teacher and at one point, a writer.  But I was lying to myself and everyone else.  I wanted to be a mom.  I wanted to be just like my mom...there when the kids left for school and there when they got home.  Cooking meals, baking goodies, folding laundry and mopping floors.  Kissing away tears, disciplining and teaching.  I wanted to be the one they ran to when the world was horrible and they needed comfort.  It was all part of the grand scheme.  Now, how to achieve that goal?

I wanted to get married young.  Never mind the fact that it meant I'd have to find Mr. Right soon after graduation, I was on a mission!  I had a few high school boyfriends and one who I thought was going to be THE ONE, but life got in the way.  Long story short, I went to college, THE ONE moved to Louisiana and there I sat, waiting for the perfect time.  It took eleven years to finally figure out that it was meant to be.  "Better late than never" would soon become our motto.  We were married when I was 30 and for the next year we tried, in vain, to become parents.  When I finally thought to ask my doctor about why we weren't yet overjoyed with that second blue line on that stupid pee stick, I was already watching my friends and their kids hitting milestones I thought we'd all be sharing at the same time.  I felt left in the dust.

My OBGYN referred me to a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE).  I had no idea what that meant at the time, but I would soon learn.  Tests were scheduled, blood was drawn, X-rays were taken.  I was scheduled for a hysterosalpingogram and the name alone freaked me out.  Several gal-pals who had endured the same test told me it was an easy, pain-free little deal.  Wrong.  Wrong.  Wrong.  That thing hurt so badly I thought my midsection would explode from the pain.  But, I endured...anything for that baby, right?  There I sat in the RE's office, waiting to hear the great news that he had a simple explanation for my inability to get pregnant.  The husband was offshore at the time, so like so many things in the life of a diver's wife, I heard the news alone.  At this point you should know that ever since the day I met this man, I wanted to wave a pregnancy test stick in his face, give him a Father's Day card in January, or wear some ridiculous shirt that said "I'm the Mom" to announce the impending addition to our new family.  Nope, not gonna happen.  The doc wanted to schedule surgery.  My fallopian tubes were blocked and he wanted get in there and try to clear them out.  Achieving a pregnancy wasn't going to be easy for me.  I walked out into the parking lot of the hospital, ankle deep in rain, soaked to the bone, and I cried.  I cried all the way back to my office.

The surgery was scheduled.  The husband's boss struggled to get him off the boat in time to pick me up at the hospital since they wouldn't let me drive myself home.  He made it a scant 5 hours before I was admitted.  Thank you, Jeff!  I remember laying in the recovery room.  The anesthesia was wearing off and my RE was by my bedside.  He told me that I had major blockages, he was only able to clear one tube and that he'd never before diagnosed stage 4 endometriosis in a patient.  Apparently, they already know it's bad when they come to him.  I was told that after 6 months, we'd be able to move on to artificial insemination (AI).

Two AIs later and still no baby led him to believe that the surgery wasn't as successful as we'd all hoped.  In-vitro fertilization (IVF) would be our only hope of achieving a pregnancy.  I was crushed.  This is not part of the perfect picture.  IVF averages $15,000 per ATTEMPT.  That's not a guarantee of a pregnancy.  That's just a shot at success.  How do drug-addicted teens get pregnant so easily?  How does that girl from the office have perfectly spaced pregnancies?  "Oh, we had a boy and I now I wanted a girl, so guess what?  We're having a girl!  Oh, and isn't it great that they're 1.275 years apart?  We planned it that way."  Barf.

Being infertile is tough.  Being happy for people who just have sex to get pregnant is even tougher, especially when they're people you love.  Jealousy is an ugly thing.  Random strangers on the street get daggers from me when they park in those "Reserved for the Mommy To Be" spots at the grocery store.  Baby showers hurt.  Birth announcements hurt.  The word 'pregnant' hurts.

The blessing is that we were able to scrape up the money to go through IVF.  So many couples don't have that luxury and my heart aches for them.  There's a lot more involved in IVF than just mixing an egg and some sperm in a petrie dish.  There's two weeks of birth control pills followed by blood tests, $4000 worth of injectible drugs, two outpatient procedures (one to extract the egg and the second to transfer the blastocyst), a week of bedrest, 14 days of waiting on pins and needles as you imagine that every teeny tiny twinge is a symptom of pregnancy, and then there's the big day.  The beta.  The blood test that tells you if you've failed, yet again, or if you've succeeded.

Our first two attempts were failures.  BFN.  That stands for BIG FAT NEGATIVE.  Has a nice ring to it, right?  I did everything right for those two cycles.  I ate right, took my vitamins, stayed on the couch for 14 days, to the hour and yet, I still failed.  So, when we finally decided to go for a third try in January of 2004, I was so defeated that I gave up trying as hard.  I took my meds and shot myself up, but I didn't stress if I wasn't eating perfectly.  I smoked up until the day before my egg harvest (bock bock).

I got started on another cycle in late February, I was all geared up for it to start and he got the call to go offshore.  Oops!  Time to get the husband to 'donate' to the cause before he left.  Bless his heart for the sacrifices he made for my dream.  Honestly, he put up with a LOT from me those first 4 years.  In order to make this a successful cycle, I needed someone there to help me with some of the injections, the bedrest and of course, the hospital wouldn't release me to drive home alone, so I needed someone to drive me.  Who better to do all those things than my mommy.  She flew out from California in March.  She helped me with progesterone injections, helped with shopping, laundry, put up with my hormone-ravaged body, drove me to the hospital, sat in the waiting room while I was poked and prodded and then waited on me hand and foot during the bed rest.  Now, here comes the craziest part.  The DAY we went for our blood test, she had to leave.  And not after....before.  ARGH!  She was crushed and I was too!  She sacrificed so much and wasn't even able to be there for the big news!

The husband made it home two nights before the blood test, so luckily, he'd be there with me for the results.  The first two "big reveals" ended in me leaving the REs office in tears.  In my mind, this time would be no different.  My first two BFNs were delivered to me by a really sweet IVF nurse who felt every ounce of my pain when she told me I wasn't pregnant.  She came out to greet us and walk us back to the office for a third time.  My heart sank.  My throat hurt.  I was squeezing back tears and feeling the shame of having to tell the world that I failed again.  I was feeling the ache of never being a mother.  I was feeling betrayed by my body, that had been giving me lots of signs that I was pregnant.

She sat on the edge of the desk, as if ready to jump up and beat a hasty retreat after she dropped the bomb for a third time.  She apologized that the doc couldn't be there but he was in surgery.  She opened our file, read my beta numbers and said congratulations.  I was all ready to start crying and asking why.  The husband stared at me and said, "We did it.  Oh, God, we're pregnant."  I actually had to look back at the nurse and say, "You're kidding, right?"  Nope.  Not kidding.  We were full-on pregnant.  Then she went on to say, "Now, don't hold me to this, but your numbers are pretty high.  Sometimes that indicates a multiple pregnancy."  I think that was the first thing I heard that actually sank in.  I was pregnant with twins.  See how well I listen?  Not well at all.

Now, you all know how that pregnancy turned out.  Yay for twins!  If I had control over the fertility universe, I'd choose another twin pregnancy in a heartbeat!  It was blessedly uneventful, relatively painless and everything I hoped it would be.

This is what's left of the hospital after Katrina

We had two teeny-tiny embryos left over from that cycle.  They were tucked away in a cryo chamber for use another day.  That day came in 2006.  They had survived Hurricane Katrina.  The entire group of soon-to-be babies were rescued by the National Guard from the second floor of the hospital. We were gearing up to move back home to California, so we wanted to give it one last try before we left.  This would work!  Our little embryos survived Katrina!  The embryos were thawed.  Only one survived the process. I laid in the recovery room with my almost 2 year old twins dancing around me.  I was blissful.  I was happy.  This would work and I'd be able to close a chapter in my life and move on.  A few weeks later, the husband went back to work and I was left having to go through the blood test and subsequent results meeting alone.  I was able to give the blood and leave since I didn't want to parade the twins around the waiting room that was filled with women aching for that one success.  The phone rang the next day and the nurse told me in a rather calm voice that the test was positive.  I was skeptical.  She didn't sound right.  She said the numbers were low, but that there was definitely a pregnancy.  I was to return in two weeks for another test.

I returned, the numbers were lower.  I needed to return again, but I should know that this wasn't a viable pregnancy.  I was having a miscarriage.  The sad thing is that I was lucky that it was so early.  I have friends who have stories that would rip your heart out when you hear them.  That was it.  We were done.  I didn't cry much.  I think I had this idea that the husband would want to try again.  I didn't want to let go of my chance at one more baby just yet.  That was four years ago.  Here I sit, knowing full well that I have to give it up.  I can't.  My doc puts me on birth control to stop the growth of my endometriosis and I keep making up excuses to stop taking them.  What if?  What if that ONE time that I stop, we get that "oops" pregnancy?  Then I can be done.

So, when you wonder why I'm so completely nasty and mean when it comes to pregnancy, now you know why.  I'm jealous.  Crazy, ugly, stupid jealous.  I have a low tolerance for people who complain about their fat bodies, their achy feet, their birth plans.  I'm intolerant of the people who say, "oh, I know how you feel.  We're infertile, too.  It took us 6 months to get pregnant with #4!"

I guess I'll eventually give up when my doctor finally tells me it's time to rip out my last chance at another baby.  For now, I suppose what I want people to know is why I don't jump up and down when you announce your pregnancy...why I cringe when I hear stories about the new baby and why I'm just a bitter old woman.  But more than that, I would LOVE for this story to make you think twice before you ask that newlywed couple, "when are you going to start a family?"  Understand why your friend can't make it to your baby shower.  Don't ask why they "don't just adopt."

Okay, that's all.  I promise my next post will be hilarious!  Thanks for listening.

Things That Irritate Me Right Now - The Public School Chapter

This is not a comprehensive list, but more of a venty-ranty type thing.  It all started with a little 100.8º F.  Dammit!!!  When I was a kid, that was nowhere NEAR good enough to jump me out of school, but it is now.  And here's the kicker.  The child sporting this internal body temperature (the sweet, honest, wonderful child she is) must stay home from school and NOT return until her fever has been gone for 24 hours.  I can't fake that she doesn't have a fever and send her tomorrow.  She'll be the first one to tell her teacher she was able to take her own temperature and determine the fever's severity.

Now, while I appreciate the fact that other parents don't want their kids getting sick because I sent mine to school in an infective state, it all starts with someone else's kid, right?  I mean, my kid didn't just conjure up this fever all by her lonesome.  It had to come from some other snot-flinging, face-coughing, germ-spreading child.  That, coupled with the rarity of illness with my kids leaves me shooting accusatory glances in the produce section at the grocery store.

This isn't even what's grinding my gears right now, either.  This just sort of snowballed, I suppose.  Now, because I'm "that mom", I'll keep her home from school, even though, as I type this, she's running amok all over the house, sans fever, begging me for some toy she saw on TV.  Here's what chaps my ass...insert deep breath here...the school has reward systems in place for practically everything these days.  Are you a good reader?  Great, you get a pizza party!  Do you exude one of the fifty-seven pillars of good character?  You do?  Awesome!  Here's another bumper sticker to slop onto mom's otherwise un-bumpersticker-laden car.  Oh, and we'll throw in another pizza party and maybe a bag full of candy, too!  Did you (or your parent) earn $200 in pledges for the jog-a-thon?  Okey dokey, you get a t-shirt and a popsicle!  If you earned $500, you get out of class for the afternoon to have a bounce house rockin' party with the principal!  Or, better yet, how about a limo ride to McDonalds?  I'm sure everything on the menu there is approved by our First Lady who is making it her goal to get everyone's kids in tip-top shape and eating only the healthiest of foods.  Wait, wait...you never missed a single day of school ALL YEAR?  HOLY COW, how do you do it!??  Well, in that case, you'll be rewarded for that magic, too!  Good job!!!

Okay, that's all the cheerleading (with my editorial comments added for effect) that my kids hear at school, now you can only imagine what I have to hear when they can't earn the big bucks for the jog-a-thon because going door-to-door isn't allowed and even if it were, every other house on the block is competing for the same pledges, mommy doesn't have a job or co-workers and daddy won't hit up his co-workers because he works too far away and won't be home in time...blah blah blah.  I have to tell my kids practically every day that just because you picked up garbage during your ENTIRE lunch break, does NOT ensure you will be awarded with a Character Counts bumper sticker for caring about trash.  And here it is.....no honey, I'm sorry but you have to stay home from school tomorrow and yes, that means you won't get that perfect attendance award.  Yes, dear, I know your fever's gone and it only lasted a little while, but rules are rules.  You've got to stay home from school until your fever's been gone for 24 magical hours.

Kids are rewarded for earning money for the school, for learning to read and for never getting sick.  I learned to read when I was a kid, but the only reward I got was that I was ahead of other kids with my SRA reading cards (bragging rights that were only important to me).  When I was a kid, I remember earning money for the school, but I was never left out of a celebration because I wasn't the class cash cow.  I remember being sick and staying home, but I don't remember sobbing because I wasn't going to get that coveted perfect attendance award.  There are things that deserve rewards and things that are just something that should be expected.  Some things need to be taught at home and some things must be taught at school, regardless of the expectation of a reward.

I suppose I should be thankful, though.  She's bugged because she can't go to school.  My mom was inundated with fake illnesses from me throughout my entire educational journey....well, with the exception of college because then I could just say "oh, yeah, my class got cancelled, so I'm sleeping in."

Here you go, mom. I finally did what you told me to do.

I hate commitment, so the first person who says to me, "Why haven't you blogged lately?" will get punched in the neck.  Mom said that I should start writing stories about the crazy things I post on Facebook.  At first, I thought that I'd never have enough to actually create a successful blog, but then I started to realize that my life is weird enough to fill up a few paragraphs every other day.  I also figured it would be something interesting for my kids to read and reflect on after I'm gone.  Maybe they'll get some advice from me when it comes time to raise their own kids.

So, bear with me as I try to cope with part-time single parenting, the guilt of not having a job, the pain of infertility, the battle between loving food and hating my body, my love of getting dirty in the garden and the joys of being a 40-something mom of twins who didn't come with instructions.