A stuffing recipe that will blow your mind

To the vulgar, lumpy, pear-shaped woman with the offensively bright, electric-blue page-boy haircut and the sourest expression plastered across her dumb face: I want to say, "Brava!"
As you were huffing up and down the aisles at WinCo muttering abusive, dimwitted comments about how "unbelievable and irresponsible" my sister and I were acting by allowing our small children to follow unassumingly behind us, giggling, as we pushed our carts around the store collecting food for our Thanksgiving dinner, you reminded me that no matter how hard my life is, it is better to keep trying and flailing and laughing than to allow myself to become a gross, bitter, impudent woman who, instead of enjoying the blessings she does have (health, food, the complexion to pull off teal strands), chooses instead to be resentful and bellow at two young mothers to "leash" their kids instead of letting them "run reckless around the store, getting in everyone's way."
I say, if you are that indignant about women daring to bring their children in public without being tethered than you must be in worse shape than I.
Please, don't ever reproduce.
Also, your asinine remarks were then promptly rebutted by a very kind, older gentleman who apologized in your behalf for being an obscene, inappropriate ass-face.
He didn't actually say ass-face.
But I am sure he wanted to.
We all thought you were an ass-face.
Speaking of which, I have a holiday recipe for you.
I really love Thanksgiving and all the time I get to spend in the kitchen with my sister creating the most delicious meal.
And one of my favorite sides is homemade stuffing.
This is not to be confused with the spongy, icky stove-top variety (unless you like that kind, than three cheers for you).
It is hearty and savory and will change your life.

Thanksgiving Stuffing

Ingredients:
3/4 cup butter, melted*
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 large celery stalks, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1 lb. spicy pork sausage, crumbled and cooked
1/2 cup dried cranberries
2-3 apples, cored and chopped
9 cups soft bread cubes = 1 loaf of french bread
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon sage
1/4 teaspoon pepper

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees
2. Saute celery and onion in olive oil on medium-high heat for 6 to 8 minutes until tender.
3. Remove veggies and set aside.
4. Break apart and cook sausage until no longer pink.
5. Gently toss celery mixture, butter and remaining ingredients with bread cubes until evenly coated.
6. Grease a 13 x 9 baking dish. Arrange stuffing in dish then cover with aluminum foil. Bake for 30 minutes covered and then remove foil and bake for an additional 15 minutes.
* Instead of using all butter, sometimes I use 1/2 cup chicken stock to moisten the stuffing. Or you can do a combination of the two.

Happy Thanksgibbing Back!
p.s. I will be back with a full recap on Ryan's special baptism day. She looked so beautiful.

Another list of important links

This one is for my butt hole coach who insists we buckle down and get our minds' in the game tonight, which for me, apparently, means writing my feelings.
However the only relevant feelings pertinent to my performance tonight are those of anxiety, some excitement, and a general sense of disorientation.
But we are the champions, my frieeeeeend, and we'll keep on fighting 'til the end.
So I am sure tonight will be just fine.
For the love of all that is holy — it'll be fine, okay?
And maybe if I say it enough times, I will also be less on edge.
Good gawd almighty.
So as a way to channel my nervous energy, I will instead present to you the latest list of essential must-sees.
You know to keep everyone abreast of the most current pop culture phenoms.
Important stuff.
So, first one:

If you haven't seen this one, than you should probably rethink your priorities and stop doing all the things.
Spend more time out from under the rock you are hiding beneath.
I'm a huge jerk.
But seriously, what have you been doing?
Moving on.

Have you seen this tiny, very young girl dance?
She is so good it's stupid.
I am really in a mood tonight.
The next one is just another reminder to the masses of the devotion I feel for Sam Smith.

I could listen to Sam, my Sam, all the days of my life.
And now you can too. Check out this video.
And now to get my monkeys in and out of the bath, teeth brushed, books read, and tucked into bed in the next 20 minutes.
So I can jump in my car, have a quick weep, and then hit some ladies.
Peace out.

The One

I have someone to introduce you to.
My latest thrifty, mid century find topped with a retro-tastic shade (from Target) has found a place in my room and also in my heart.
I love lamp.
In fact, once it is legal for people to marry furniture, we will wed immediately.
As I may have mentioned before (in every post previous to this one) I enjoy furnishing my non-existent home.
Slowly, carefully I am collecting a very well-curated, well-edited assortment of home goods to outfit my future home.
It makes perfect sense to me as to why I would constantly stalk Craigslist, antique stores, big box stores and online boutiques for interesting, relevant pieces even though I currently live in a 9 × 9 room.
I have even collected my house down-payment.
And by collected I mean saved.
So that's neat.

^^ Look at this! It is a poorly-lit, crappy picture of a very lovely lamp. The shade has golden leaves on it. Golden! So therefore, I had no choice but to bring it home.

Oh, and I also got the most incredible kilim rug from a sweet, old lady on a motorized cart I met through Craigslist.
Because what is an imaginary house with no rug?
It is no house I want to live in, even if only in my head.
With each sentence I type, I am sounding more and more pathetic.

^^ This is another bad picture of my rug ... folded in a wad. Nothing but the best quality photographs for my blog! The rug is really quite large (around 8×9).  Big enough to roll myself in like a carpet burrito. ^^

Oh and how much do you like posts that direct you to other interesting sites/videos around the web?
Because I, for one, love them and will be shooting one of those your way so you can fall down the internet rabbit hole and spend more time than is healthy staring at your computer screen.
And p.s. did anyone see that huge a$$ picture of Kim Kardashian's huge a$$?
I am such a titillating conversationalist.
She is an anatomical phenomenon.
Like, how does she not fall over?

^^ One last picture from Ryan's family birthday. We get together with my sister and her family for every event.
The two turkeys (cousins) in the middle are exactly one week apart. ^^

Happy birthday to my Lion

^^ This is a look I receive often. ^^

Ryan likes to hear the story of her birth.
I begin by saying that I was über fat and gained the most weight growing her, which resulted in the biggest chipmunk cheeks this side of a chipmunk.
My contractions started around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, which I remember distinctly because they interrupted my first viewing of Oprah since I had started my maternity leave.
They were slightly uncomfortable at first, building (as they do) throughout the evening until I found myself writhing in pain on the hallway floor around 1 a.m. barking at Scott to "STOP SLEEPING AND BEING GENERALLY  RELAXED!" and gather any last-minute items needed for my hospital stay.
After strongly insisting that my contractions were, in fact, close enough together, Scott and I left for the hospital, swinging by Britney's to pick her up around 2 in the morning.
Upon arriving at the hospital I was so delirious with pain and naivety, that my hubs and sister checked me in and wheeled me to the maternity wing before I could even grasp the enormity of what was happening.
I was going to be a mother! Squeee!
And even more immediately satisfying was the reality that I would no longer be pregnant! Huzzah!
I got situated in my indecent backless gown as I doubled over in gasping spasms while my cramping continued to escalate beyond a threshold I was unaware existed.
It was shocking how painful labor was!
I mean, duh, you are pushing a human out of your body, but still.
I had refused any birthing classes because, knowing my anxious self, I wanted to remain blissfully ignorant about the hurt I was facing for as long as possible.
Well, now that I was in the throes of childbirth I was rethinking my whole tactic.
What the H was going on?
When would this be over?
Where were the drugs?
Why would anyone do this more than once?
And then my Savior appeared. He was wearing scrubs. And came armed with a long needle in his hand.
And he was very handsome.
WHAAA??!?
Not only was my anesthesiologist hot, he was getting a pretty good look at my fleshy, flabby full moon. Gross.
But soon enough, none of that mattered ... in fact nothing mattered anymore because the convulsions stopped and the pain slackened.
I could breathe again, and even sleep.
I dozed on and off for the remainder of the night/morning in a drug-induced haze until around 9 or 10 a.m. when the pressure began to mount.
It was time to get down to business. I needed to push.
I knew it even though I had never done it before.
Isn't that incredible? You just know.
Anyway, my water broke (all over my doctor's face. Barf. Like it actually sprayed into his mouth — you're welcome) and then I pushed twice and out she popped.
Scott was concerned that her head came to a point (which is normal) and her face was pinched like a squishy-faced pug (which is also normal) but all I saw was the prettiest baby.
She was SO perfect.
A tiny nose, big, gray eyes, pouty, full lips, and wavy fuzz for hair.
Scott cried and then ran to the gift shop and promptly appeared with a stuffed kangaroo that he proudly squeezed into her crib.
I felt so relieved and complete and content.
Ryan is the smartest, most helpful, timid, stubborn, sensitive, persistent, unique girl.
I kinda love that she is obsessed with reading and roller skating and playing the recorder.
She is unrelenting and quirky.
She has a loud laugh and a zillion freckles.
She saves everything.
She is a good eater but is also a night owl and never wants to go to sleep.
She savors treats by eating them really slowly, so that they last as long as possible.
I am grateful for our relationship and that we genuinely get along.
I like her and know that we will continue to be the best of friends.
I love her little personality and am so blessed to be her mommy.
Happiest birthday to my Lion!

^^ Eight years old! ^^

Another boring picture of someone else's carved pumpkin

Today was the longest day.
It started at 6:45 a.m. when my alarm (read: toddler) woke me up at a frightening volume;
Which wasn't totally inconvenient because I had to shower, run around yelling at my kids to get the lead out of their pants and eat their freeeeeking breakfast, and make lunches before heading to an apple orchard/pumpkin patch for Ezra's first grade field trip anyway.
I dropped Micah off at a friend's, ushered my kids to their classrooms, and checked in at the school office.
I lead my three assigned kiddies onto the bus, sat through the mandatory safety information, and then proceeded to field four thousand panicked questions from a nervous six-year-old, missing what looked like eight teeth, on what we would do if 1) the bus broke down, 2) the driver had a heart attack and was incapacitated, 3) who exactly was responsible for pulling the emergency break, 4) would we have enough time to exit the bus safely if it was engulfed in flames, 5) why was it necessary to have a safety hatch in the roof, etc.
After explaining that our 20 minute bus trip (for the duration of the drive) would most likely be uneventful and not result in an untimely death, we arrived at the farm.
We picked apples, sprinted through a corn maze, picnicked, and selected pumpkins before boarding the bus and heading back to the school.
I then made a silent vow never to become a first-grade teacher.
I lack the patience or energy required to be nice to kids all day.
After I picked up Micah and dragged him kicking and screaming away from his play date, I went home to start composing a shopping list and plan our weekly menu.
Once the older kids returned from school, I loaded everyone into the car and headed to WinCo.
After shuffling through the store, I returned home to start dinner.
Air high-five if you are still reading this.
My life is very dull.
I am actually falling asleep writing this because I am so lame.
Anyway, I cooked dinner, cleaned up after dinner, and then grudgingly eagerly prepped for pumpkin carving which I shouldn't have promised earlier that day.
The kids decided that they wanted to do it entirely on their own which meant that an hour-long activity turned into the rest of my life.
And even though I want to face plant on the floor out of debilitating exhaustion, my kids went to sleep happy and that is pretty much the whole point.
Although, upon reflection, I realize that this post does, in fact, not have a point.
Sorry about that.
And now I will go eat ice cream in my bed.

^^ Ezra is probably contemplating how he can prolong his permitted use of a "real" knife. ^^

^^ Yes, this is the best picture of the four of us with our pumpkins. Total win. ^^

The end.

Lipstick conundrum

^^ Kinda blurry and slightly crazed. Can you see how gnarly her tooth is? Yes, the one at a right angle. ^^

Let's talk about how my daughter resembles Nanny McFee. 

Her top tooth is protruding at the most obnoxious angle and looks dreadful.

It is wiggly in the worst way but she will not allow me to pull it out.

I have contemplated sneaking into her room after she falls asleep and yanking it out.

But that would probably be emotionally scarring.

She fights bedtime anyway ... soooo, that might cancel out the minimal progress we have made in said department.

Shucks.

My sister offered to give her a love punch in the mouth.

Just to get that whole situation taken care of.

For whatever reason, she rejected that idea.

Oh well, just like everything else (Micah's potty training, Ezra's reading, me having sex ever again) it will theoretically happen when it is supposed to happen. 

Hopefully.

And really I am just talking about the sex thing.

Ahem.

Anyway, I have been brashly thinking of stepping out of my comfort zone and exploring the world of lipstick.

Previously, I worried that I would smear it all over my clothes and teeth.

That and Scott used to say that when I wore lipstick my lower lip looked huge and if I weren't careful it would get snagged on a tripwire. 

But I have decided that today's lipsticks are much too sophisticated to be subject to those smudging issues.

They take themselves seriously and stay put.

I am on the lookout for a deep, berry color, a true red, and something bright-ish pink?

Right now I wear Vaseline.

This is a big step. 

I know it sounds cray-cray. 

But I like to take risks.

I laugh in the face of danger.

I walk on the wild side.

Any recommendations for moderately-priced lipsticks would be very much appreciated. 

I am leaning towards matte. 

^^ Taken with my phone in secrecy behind the bleachers at my last roller derby bout wearing a much darker lip than I am typically comfortable with. p.s. We won! Holla! ^^

Thanks, peeps.

How is it already Thursday?

^^ It was a leggings-worn-with-a-much-too-short-shirt/socks-stolen-from-my-dad kind of day. ^^

Let's talk about how many papers my kids bring home every day after school.
It is a problem.
Like, environmentally, how are there enough trees on this whole planet to support the amount of paperwork necessary to inform me of PTO meetings, pumpkin patch field trips, and how IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT THE JOG-A-THON MONEY BE TURNED IN IMMEDIATELY!
It takes me a full hour to wade through all the shite that comes home in their backpacks.
Of course, I never check my email, so the paperless route is a no-go.
But honestly, I love to organize things.
My little nerd heart pitter-patters so fast when I start thinking about it, so really I don't mind the paper shuffling, but thought that I should complain about it to seen more "normal." and less "freakish."
Also, right now it is raining very hard.
Like, I went outside to take my kids to the dentist this morning and was nearly flattened to the ground by a torrential downpour.
It was amazing.
The sound of the rain may be my favorite sound second only to the silence that occurs when my children are sound asleep.
There really is no sound like no sound.
But I feel as if even that is short lived because my children are possessed posses a sixth sense that allows them to anticipate the very second I climb into bed.
Just as I close my eyes, their throats begin to seize from dehydration and their bladders begin to swell from holding their pee in just long enough for me to unwind and head to my room.
Just as I prop the window open (so I can hear the rain, duh) decide which side of my body to start on, and pull my covers up, it is at that very moment that I hear a scream (because that is the only way of getting my attention in the silence of the night) for a drink of water/assistance to the bathroom/help finding some lost stuffed animal/nothing at all.
It happens, literally, and I actually mean in the very literal sense, every night.
Even if I go to bed at completely different times, they sense it and awake at the very moment I go to sleep.
I have done experiments.

^^ Pitching a fit on the time-out stool.

So that's fun.
Also this is what happens all the live-long day:

















The end.

^^ Meanwhile, this was happening outside. I love Oregon. And rain, as previously mentioned. ^^

^^ Probably irritated at someone. Or thinking deep, serious, profound thoughts. Like, "how can I get more sour patch kids into my stomach." ^^