Reminder- I don't have to be nice to you.

You know how when you are young, you have to be nice to your elders because your parents make you? Well f*ck that when you have grown up.

Tonight I went to my mom's house to say good bye to a friend of my sister's who is going away to be a missionary in a remote jungle place that I won't mention here. I am not kidding, to convert the natives. Christianity is just so repetitive, you know?

In any case, after said person left in after I had been there five minutes(!), her mother, who was there apparently waiting to see her too, said to me (note- I last saw her when I was in high school) "Wow, you are a good mother. I wouldn't have guessed that."

Ok, so I didn't say anything. But now that I've had a couple hours to think of some witty replies (thanks, internet) here you go:

"I wouldn't have guessed you'd get so fat"

"Wow, I didn't know you were such a c*nt"

Ok, so they aren't so witty. I didn't even hit her, although that did cross my mind. I just thought people who loved jebus were supposed to be nice.

Oh, right.
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Never mind.

Also, I dreamt that my lovely grandmother who died a few years ago died again. So I had to go through her second funeral and it made me think of how much I still miss her all the time and how I miss that crackly sound of her smoker laugh and I actually woke myself up crying from the dream. I should have known that was an omen to stay home.

Before I go, the dream about my grandmother made me remember a line from the movie "American Beauty"- something about the "way my grandmother's hands felt like paper"....

Madeleines

So I FINALLY got two Madeleine pans last week from Crate and Barrel. Despite the warm weather, I had to try some out. After reading this and this about the mysterious and appealing little cookie-cake, I dove in. I made the Barefoot Contessa's lovely Coconut Madeleine recipe. While they did come out good (well, let's be honest, the ones that I didn't burn did), I learned that in buttering the pan I needed to make sure, since my pans are sort of non-stick, that there was no visible butter left before I floured the pan. The pans, by the way were great- nothing stuck and I got a nice golden color on the shell side of the cookies.

I actually made two batches, one with the coconut and on the second batch, I left out the coconut and added the zest from one lemon. Yummmm...... I think that I actually like the lemon ones a little better, just because they are a little more of a sophisticated flavor.

I also made the Barefoot Contessa's potato chips, from her "Barefoot in Paris" book. (Which is one of my favorite cookbooks of all time). I really love Ina Garten's food. One of my favorite recipes of all time is hers- her roast chicken over croutons from the Paris book. Soooo good, crispy golden skin, tender meat.... Lemony goodness.

Stupid Stupidness.

Oh hell.

The husband left out a pineapple rind. Hence? Twenty thousand fruit flies in the kitchen.

Solution! Suburban Turmoil mentioned this way to catch/kill them, which has so far caught seven flies.

I have get back to scrubbing our kitchen to get rid of the germs, oh the germs.

Yuck.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...

I only seem to dream while I am pregnant, for some reason. Last night I dreamt that my co-worker had a pet giraffe. In the third story of his parents' house. Then it died, but he was not that sad, because he had these special orange spiders that had giraffe babies, so it would be okay. Um, yeah.

Anyhow, my little kid got to play at her gramma's today. Gramma got her a baby pool and TWO new swimsuits. She's not spoiled at all. She even took an actual two hour nap after all the excitement. It was a big couple of days for Ms. Peanut. First time on a carousel:

First time seeing a goat:

First time peeing on a potty. Yeah, sorry, no pics of that one. Well, actually there are. And trust me, they are super-cute. However, I don't want to make her hate me when she's 16, so those aren't making their way on to the internet.

She's A Big Girl!!!

Well, almost. So I got the big girl potty (well, two of them, actually- IKEA, $3.99) today and a certain little one made a little bit of pee-pee in the potty. Oh, yeah. You read that correctly- the FIRST TIME she sat on the big girl potty she made a pee-pee because mommy asked her to.

Hot damn in the hot tub, this kid is so cool.

Also, since when is it 100 degrees in Long Beach in JUNE? Although, may I take a moment to recommend the Crystal Court mall (the little bit of mall across from South Coast Plaza) as a place to cool off? Free underground parking, a $1 carousel ride and a cheap day out. (Except for the H&M, of course).

World's Quickest Post

Ok, I really need to get the Peanut out of bed so I need to do this oh so fast.

Last night I dreamed that I was married to Alec Baldwin's character from "30 Rock". (Which I love, by the way).

We filed our taxes and found that we earned $649,599. Which means, with his magical rich people math, we got $30,000 back on our taxes. Hooray America!

Can you believe I dreamed a tax joke? I need to get out more.

Did You Know.....

That in 2007 the exact same number of people named their female kids "America" as did people who named their male children Mohamed? That's right, there were 462 people that named their kids one of those two names. Isn't that just a little weird? (Note that Mohammed, which I thought was the correct spelling, was number 692).

Well, the name that R keeps trying to convince me we should use?


Petunia Dangerfeet Drew.


Yep. Ponder that, why doncha.

The Sanctity of Biogtry

I am so utterly tired of hearing about the "sanctity" of marriage. What is exactly is that supposed to mean, anyhow? "Sanctity" means, basically, something that is sacred. Sacred means, according to Dictionary.com:

1. devoted or dedicated to a deity or to some religious purpose; consecrated.
2. entitled to veneration or religious respect by association with divinity or divine things; holy.
3. pertaining to or connected with religion (opposed to secular or profane): sacred music; sacred books.
4. reverently dedicated to some person, purpose, or object: a morning hour sacred to study.
5. regarded with reverence: the sacred memory of a dead hero.
6. secured against violation, infringement, etc., as by reverence or sense of right: sacred oaths; sacred rights.
7. properly immune from violence, interference, etc., as a person or office.

There's a huge assumption here, with all this "sanctity" talk. What exactly, about the 50% of hetero-marriages that will actually last is about religion? I mean, I get that people who believe in a deity think that said deity somehow cares or is involved in their lives might think they are "led" to certain choices in their lives. But what about marriage is supposed to be sacred? Is it the ability to jointly file taxes? Is it the ability to sign up for your spouse's healthcare plan? Becoming beneficiary of your spouse's IRA?

I have been married for coming up on six years. I have a kid. I am an atheist. I have such a hard time figuring this one out- why would someone else's marriage threaten your own? I really don't understand it. It has always seemed to me just an excuse for spreading hatred and division. I don't campaign against Christians getting married even if I think they are deluded. It seems ... I don't know...petty and nonsensical and full of pathetic, wrong-headed self righteousness.

I got married in a French restaurant, by our communal best friend. We promised in our super-short ceremony, only to be good. We figured that covered everything. There were no promises to a church or a god or any recitation of pre-determined cookie-cutter vows. Just a promise to one another, to be good.

So far, so good.

In any case, for all those reading out there in internet-land? If you and your partner (regardless of the gender identity of parties involved) got married in California this week- I wish you much happiness. Marriage is complicated and strange and wonderful, and I wish you years and years of happiness, with hard times few and far between.

There should be less sadness in the world- go and share your happiness this week.

My Baby's Daddy is a Big Fat Liar....

It cracks me up to hear him tell Peanut crazy stories during her bath time. "You don't even know what the penalties were for laughing when I was a kid" and "We didn't even have baths when I was your age."

She thinks he's pretty funny, too. He just told her to pull the plug and she did. I know, she is a super genius, huh? She also tricked us into going into the children's bookstore, Once Upon a Story at the end of our block and buying her a book this weekend. She needed "Olivia" so she made her daddy get it for her.

Also, I had my first ultrasound this week. The technician said that she is fairly certain that it's a girl. Or a boy with an erection. Um, OK. I guess we'll really find out during the next ultrasound. We did get to see the little Zippy leaping around in there, looking a lot (to me) like a tiny dancing skeleton, like from El Dia De Los Muertos.

When Did This Happen...

I am almost incapable of staying up past 10 PM. I used to go to sleep only when the sun cracked the eastern sky. I have been a ridiculously neurotic insomniac since I can remember. And now? I am nodding off before the end of primetime. It's just a few minutes after 10 and I am SO sleepy.

I have this generally beige-colored life most of the time now, with a regular bed-time, daycare, naps, and sippy cups. A friend pointed out that I once snorted vodka off the bottom of a champagne glass, just to try it. Now...

It's just a bit of change, that's all.

I was once chased by a homeless man brandishing an iron (yes, a clothes iron, cord flailing) several blocks down Hollywood Boulevard in the middle of the night. I used to do things. I used to create my own adventures. Now... not so much.

I think I am due for a change. Maybe there is something in the wind.

Oh Dear...

I want to be like Angry Chicken when I grow up. Oh, deary me these are so cute. I need to remember to make these for Peanut when she's a little bigger and a little less, um destructive. Paper is for tearing into tiny pieces, not for stories, at least right now.

Oh how I want to be more creative.... Also, I want to make cake in jars, too. Like Not Martha and Angry Chicken. Oh baking how I miss thee.

Blargh.

So...

I am pregnant. Again. It's a good thing. But, maternity clothes right now? Not a good thing. I need a couple light weight work-appropriate tops (I was mostly big-preggers during the winter last time) and this time I have already "popped" and I don't have any light weight things to wear. Last time, I relied heavily on the maternity clearance at Old Navy and the Gap, but this time? SOOO ugly. Click here to see what I mean. Um, it looks like a cross between a bathing suit coverup and something my mom wore in 1982. YUCK.

What's a chubby pregnant mom on a budget to do? I think I am just about ready to wear the same dress over and over until October. To quote Liz Lemon from 30 Rock, "Blargh."