Yesterday my mom picked up my two girls and left me home alone. And then Rico worked late and left me home alone. Then I ran around the house jumping up and down, yelling and screaming until I fell in a heap of exhaustion on my dirty floor.
For all you parents out there that wonder what they will do with yourselves after your children are grown and out of the house, I can’t relate to you. I will have no problem entertaining myself come 15 years from now. My life will be full and fun and rested.
Here is a rundown of the things I did over the last 24 hours…
1. Started a load of laundry in both washers yesterday at noon. They are still sitting there and will continue to stay there until I am forced to become responsible again.
2. Gotten bedsores on my backside from lying in bed watching Everyone Loves Raymond reruns. And Housewives of Orange County. And Antiques Roadshow. And all sorts of gossip filled news shows outing the latest Tiger Ho.
3. Didn’t act as a short order cook for dinner but fixed bacon and egg sandwiches for dinner because that’s what I wanted. No macaroni and cheese. No Hamburger Helper. No bologna sandwiches.
4. Never poured a single glass of Kool Aid. No hunting the house over for someones lost sippy cup. No cleaning up spilt tea off the floor. Only drinking highly caffeinated sugar filled soft drinks that make me pee all night long.
5. Never wiped anyone’s butt. Wait a minute, I wiped my own but that doesn’t count.
6. Took a shower by myself. Soaked in the garden tub by myself. Didn’t step or sit on toys in either instance. Took a shower with my husband without the threat of prying eyes. In case you didn’t notice, I like to be clean and to conserve water by bathing together. It’s not easy being green.
7. Slept until 9:30 this morning without interruption. Need I say more?
8. Slept naked in bed without someone asking why I don’t have clothes on. Funny how Rico never asks that question.
9. Ate a whole bowl of homemade fudge without sharing and NOT feeling guilty.
10. Thinking I could get used to this way of life but admitting to myself that it was a little lonely.
Merry Christmas from our family to yours!!
Today we ventured out of Hooterville to enjoy a little culture.
The Kentucky Repertory Theatre has provided quality, professional theatre, particularly for the citizens of Southern Kentucky, by presenting a repertory of works from the best of our theatrical heritage and by developing plays by Kentucky playwrights since 1978. It’s such a wonderful addition to our community.
Robert Brock, their theatre director, was my college theatre professor and has one of the most enjoyable classes on campus. (Holla Mr. Brock!!!)
Anyhoo, today was special in the fact that it was Ella’s first theatrical experience and I was very nervous on how she would do. Thankfully it was a comedy, Christmas Belles.
The first half of the play was wonderful. Ella sat mesmerized by the actors, the lights, the comedy. Other than a few squirmy moments, she was fantastic.
Shortly after intermission, she got up in my lap, cuddled close, and hugged my neck so sweetly. Ahhh, my sweet baby girl.
Next thing I know, she started blowing the ass trumpet like Louis Armstrong. I’m not talking about a squeaker. I’m talking about one of those farts that rival a quarry blast.
To top it off, it was during one of those quiet moments of the play.
God is funny like that.
And because I wasn’t embarrassed enough, she starts asking loudly, “Momma, you smell something? MOMMA…MOMMA…YOU SMELL SOMETHING???”
I’m raising such a classy girl.
Once upon a time, I was a picky eater. I would snub my nose at all kinds of food and talk myself into not liking them. I was so young, so dumb and so worried about the size of my buttocks.
Why does that word always remind me of Forrest Gump?
Anyhoo, how things have changed.
Many Christmases ago, I worked with a lady who had moved to our small little town from New York and she was always baking wonderful, sinful things and bringing them into work for us all to enjoy. One day, she brought cheesecake. I didn’t like cheesecake. I had convinced myself that cheesecake was yucky and nasty and evil. But she made me try it and my buttocks has never been the same.
Ella and I have been making a few to share with friends for the holidays. She is the official egg breaker.
Because it’s the holidays, I will share with you her recipe. It is wonderful and great and full of calories.
The best things in life are always full of calories.
NEW YORK CHEESECAKE
1 7/8 cups of ground graham cracker crumbs (about 1 1/2 packages)
1 stick of butter, melted
4 1/2 Tbsp sugar
In a food processor, crumble graham crackers. Add melted butter and sugar and mix well. Pat into sides and bottom of spring pan. Place in freezer to chill.
5 8oz. cream cheese, softened
1 tsp vanilla
2 tsp lemon juice
1 1/3 cup sugar
3 Tbsp flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup heavy cream
In stand mixer, beat cream cheese about 5 minutes. Add vanilla and lemon and mix until fluffy. In a separate bowl, combine flour, sugar and salt. Combine. Turn mixer on low and gradually blend flour mixture into cream cheese. Add eggs one at a time, mixing each well.
Remove bowl from mixer and add heavy cream, mixing gently by hand.
Pour into crust.
Bake 5 to 8 minutes at 500 degrees or until edges are golden brown. Turn down oven to 350 degrees and continue to bake for 1 hour. Be sure not to open the oven as cheesecake will collapse.
Cool in spring pan for an hour or more and then remove sides.
Enjoy and eat the whole thing yourself.
I am the laid back parent.
The one who lets things slide.
The fun parent.
The one who lets the kids pick out their own hideous outfits and lets them wear them in public. The one who raps Flo-rida in the grocery store to embarrass her kids. And sings Andrea Bocelli at the top of her lungs while dropping the oldest off at school.
She loves when I do that…
Fifth graders don’t appreciate opera.
My husband is the disciplinarian.
He makes the kids tow the line. Makes them dress appropriately.
The one who is always saying to me, “Why did you let them do that?”
So it ’twas with much delight that my husband made a bone headed move. A move that required sirens. And hot firemen. And lots of hysterical laughing from me.
While at the beach, my “I was on the National Problem Solving Team” husband decided we should take the girls out for a ride. We dressed appropriately and packed all necessary items (cause he’s anal like that) and took off.
First stop, the condo elevator.
Once inside, he got the bright idea to start jumping. In the elevator. With me and the kids.
And then it stopped….in between floors.
And the doors wouldn’t open and he had to push this little red button.
And the firemen of the Gulf Shores Fire Department had to come rescue us…
Super Duper Duh.
And as the nice fireman were getting us out, my eleven year old says to Rico…
“You’re not supposed to jump in elevators. They’ll get stuck.”
Gas to Gulf Shores: $200
Blackberry with camera to capture the evidence: $400
Having your husband finally make a stupid parent move: PRICELESS!