Cookies for those that can't cook!

I love to cook. Even more specifically, I love to bake. This being said, I have not always been a very successful baker. In fact, Mark has made it quite clear that if he had known what a horrendous cook I was in our first year of marriage, he might have looked elsewhere for a wife. Ha! Like he could have resisted me if he tried!

Anyway, back to baking. I have in my possession The Holy Grail of Cookbooks for those of us that are too busy to cook or shop for ingredients or who just like to keep things simple. That would be me. It is called the 5-ingredient cookbook and several of my friends (you know who you are!) have tried to steal it. I am a kind and generous person so I want to share one of my faithful, "last-minute pot luck", "someone is sick", "Mark needs dessert" cookie recipes.

Here is what you need:

1 box of Devil's Food Cake mix

2 eggs

1/3 cup of veg. oil

1/2 package of peanut butter chips

Directions:

Mix cake mix, eggs and oil together. Add chips. Spoon batter into small cookie-size amounts onto cookie sheet and then bake for 9 - 10 minutes. (I like gooey, soft cookies so I bake closer to 9 minutes than 10).

Eat and enjoy!

Spring (break) is in the air!

Aaahhh.... I LOVE Spring Break! It's right up there with Summer Break and Christmas Break. Even if the weather is terrible (like now) and I'm not going anywhere (like this year) I still love it! My mom and brother Zachary (he's 7) came to stay with us for a few days. Yesterday my mom bravely took all three boys for a day of fun. They ate lunch at McDonalds, rented a movie and watched it, went to the park and played and then went bowling that night. I was tired after merely hearing about it.

While the boys were out wearing my mom down to a frazzle, Mark and I went on a date! Yippee! We didn't even know what to do with ourselves. We ended up tootling over to Hermiston and going to the movies. Here I earned the honor of choosing The Worst Movie I Have Ever Seen.

Normally Mark holds this honor in our house but no longer. Mark graciously told me to choose and so trying to please him, I chose one I thought he would like and I could stomach. I thought Taken would be too violent and The House On The Left also too violent, so I naively thought I'd choose The Watchmen because I thought it was about comic book hereos so it can't be that bad right? Oh how wrong I was. Not only was it disgusting and pointless, but I just didn't get it. I thought about asking the two 8 year olds in front of me to explain to me what was going on, but they seemed pretty into it. Could it have been the blatant sex scenes? the grisly murders? the f-bomb dropped every five minutes? Mark wouldn't allow me to talk (yell) at their father for his lack of parenting skills. He also said shooting someone on our date to defend my honor wouldn't be romantic. I begged to disagree but then we got shoosed by the 8-year olds for talking. Yeesh!

Scale Scars

During my back-to-back pregnancies with the boys I pushed the scales to the limits with my "magical" increase of pounds each week. I remember very clearly one doctor's appt. where the perky and thin nurse gleefully told me that I had gained 6 pounds.

Me: "So, that's good right? It means the baby is healthy and growing?"

Perky and Pathetically Skinny Nurse: "Umm... yeah, but you gained 4 pounds on your last appt. also."

Me: "So..."

Perky and Anorexic Nurse: "So that means that since we saw you five days ago, you have gained 6 pounds which is 10 pounds in one week."

Me: ...

I have never looked at a scale again. I was scarred. No literally - I was scarred, or at least blemished for life. You see, while I was happily shoveling food into my face my stomach stretched and stretched to make room for my growing baby as well as my growing stomach. I stretched my stomach so far it had to kick out my belly button because there was no more room at the inn. If you're grossed out now because you are picturing my ginourmous belly, don't read any further. It gets worse.

So once I became scale scarred I had to find a new way to gage my weight. It turned out I had a built in scale. It's name is my belly button. Even though my belly button has gone back in just like it's supposed to, the skin around it has never quite looked the same. I have the belly button of a 83 year old woman who was obese for most of her life and then drastically lost the weight due to the flu. And that's on a good day. Here's how my built in scale works. Each morning I wake up and go to take a shower. I stand before the mirror in all my glory and don't look anywhere else but my belly button (I don't want to be blind as well as chubby!). It helps me determine what I am going to wear, what I am going to eat (or not eat) for breakfast and whether or not I really need to exercise today. If my belly button is shallow with lots of creases and puckers winding their way towards it, I am having a skinny day - I look like the 83 year old! It's when my belly button begins to sink down further and further and the wrinkles disappear due to the swell of my now-pregnant looking stomach that I start to worry. It reaches critical point when I have to use a q-tip to figure out whether or not it's dirty. I know, gross.

Right now the belly button is telling me (and it has been screaming this for the last month or so) that it is time to get my rear into gear and start working out. I had to use the q-tip test just this morning. Not good my friends, not good.

Monster Truck Show!!!

ON FRIDAY, MARK AND I SURPRISED THE BOYS AND TOOK THEM TO A MONSTER TRUCK SHOW. THEY WERE SO EXCITED THEY ... WHAT? OH! SORRY! I'll stop yelling. My ears are still ringing and my butt is still vibrating! Anyway, like I was saying, the boys were thrilled speechless, which is the highest level of honor at our house because it takes A LOT to make them stop talking! Here are some of the highlights from the show (which was 3 hours long by the way and we didn't get home till after midnight!):

The boy's favorite monster truck - Bigfoot.

A sweet treat that took me 10 minutes to clean off their hands, mouth, neck and hair.

The boys loved the headphones and Caleb asked if he could sleep with his. They thought they were just fun until the monster trucks started and then they really liked them. Seriously, I now know that monster trucks are not named for their size but the noises they make while driving. It vibrated the whole arena and without earplugs, I don't know how people stood the noise.

A couple of the trucks doing their truck stuff.

One of the trucks lost a tire, which was "so cool mommy!" because they got to see the monster truck towed away.

This was the look on their faces the whole show, until they were told the dinosaur transformer was coming out.


Then their faces looked like this:

This was my personal favorite shot of the whole night:

All in all a fun night of monsterous proportions!

Sunday

Sunday was a day for going and visiting (and driving around in the new truck!). Kye has decided that she loves the new truck. However, she has also decided she doesn't always love the weather whiles she's in the new truck. Drive with me for a moment.

On the beginning of our drive, I glance back at Kye and she is grinning into the wind, relishing the smells of the great outdoors and just enjoying the ride.

I glance back again a few minutes later and her state of bliss seems a little disturbed. She is closely examining the hills we are rapidly approaching.

This is what she sees: Snow, Cold, Fog - not ideal weather for feeling the wind in your hair.

When I glance back at her yet again, this is the look she was giving me. I swear I heard her thoughts "Are you kidding me?." Sorry Kye, Daddy won't let you in the cab.

Luckily the bad weather didn't last long and the boys were able to go outside and enjoy playing at Gramma and Papa G's Place. Owen jabbed.

and stomped.

and climbed.

and threw.

and laughed till he cried. (Actually, I think that was me. He just got a bug in his eye.)

My mightly Caleb climbed also and informed me that the FBI take pictures like this. Looking down on others? In disguise? He wouldn't give me anymore information than that. The FBI would be proud.

Caleb, the FBI agent, also helped Gramma tame her hair. Only a highly trained special agent can do that.

Lookin' good gramma!

Oops! Wrong turkey!

A Few Things...

I found this on my desk after my students went outside to first recess.



That student gets an A, obviously. It made me laugh that she used the word giggle. I didn't think I giggled I guess! (giggle, giggle) What a sweetheart!



Mark went out and bought a chainsaw (yeah?) and decided to tackle Twiggy the Tree down by the creek. I didn't think it sounded like much fun but Mark said "Babe, I'm using a chainsaw".

OK then.... I'll go read a book.

Speaking of books, I went to the library yesterday and checked out the first books I am going to read from my list. Wait a minute, I thought I had checked out 1984 by George Orwell but I don't see it here! Hmmm... I must look in my car again. Anyway, I'm a little excited. The middle book is Gone With The Wind. I remember when I was younger (last year) my friends and I would always laugh at people who watched that movie. Now, I'm going to be one of those people. After I read the book of course.

Mark's cousin Jesse came to spend the night with us as he traveled to a job interview. I have always had a soft spot for Jesse. The first night I met him, Mark and I had went to Jesse's brothers basketball game (Jeff, who is as tall as a giraffe!) and after the game we all went out to IHOP. Jesse was only about 15 at the time and when his dad asked him to say Grace before our meal, he said "And thank you Lord for bringing Miriah to our family".

Like I said, I have a soft spot for Jesse.

Caleb likes him too! (Notice the backwards hat)

Good-bye Beast... Hello Beauty!

The time has (finally) come to say good-bye (and good riddance) to our pick-up. She has served us well these last 11 years and while we are jumping up and down with joy to finally be rid of her, there were some good (bad) memories with her.



Memory #1 - Mark and I driving to La Grande and The Beast breaking down while we were headed up Cabbage Hill. Mark informed me we would have to hitch-hike (what would my mom say!!) in order to get home. To top it off, he happened to have his 270 with him (hunting rifle) and he refused to leave it in the pick-up. I cried as he stuck his thumb out knowing that we would never get picked up while we had a GUN with us. Not 5 seconds later, 2 college girls driving a little truck stopped for us and they carried the gun up front with them and Mark and I sat in the back to La Grande. Quite a scenic trip if I do say so myself.



Memory #2 - Driving to Boise with Mark and we are in the middle of nowhere when The Beast decides to break down - again. Mark tells me we are going to have to hitch hike - again. This time no tears, I just give conditions: no truck drivers, no van full of Mexicans ( I can say that since I'm half Mexican ). No sooner are the words out of my mouth when a semi-truck pulls over. Short story, he was the nicest person and stopped because he saw me and wouldn't want his own daughter hitchhiking. He had a cooler full of food and sodas that he offered to us and provided us with a safe and comfy ride to Boise.

Memory #3 - We are moving to Pendleton from La Grande and Mark has a load of stuff in the back of The Beast and I am following him in our little purple-people eater. I am driving down the highway when I spy a pair of underwear on the side of the road.

"Ha" I smirk to myself "Someone had a good time last night!"

A few more miles down the road, I spy another pair of underwear on the side of the road.

"That's a little weird. I wonder what the road construction people are going to think!"

I am now watching for more underwear, and sure enough a couple of miles later I spy yet another pair on the side of the road. As I cruise closer, I suddenly gasp in horror and recognition,

"Those are MY underwear!"

Needless to say, I hit the gas, caught up with Mark and made him pull-over. The box that contained my underwear had come open and half my collection was blowing in the wind between La Grande and Pendleton.

Hello Big Red! It's not the fact that we have a new truck that has Mark and I so excited. It's the accomplishment of a goal. Almost 3 years ago, Mark and I committed ourselves to the Dave Ramsey plan. We sold our Explorer and got crazy about getting out of debt. Last May we met that goal and started to save for a new truck. We did some other things as well like having our house reappraised, buying a new computer and printer, as well as buying plane tickets for our trip to the Caribbean this June. But overall, we have saved towards the purchase of a new truck. We have needed a new truck desperately. We can't all fit into the old truck, it's very unreliable (see above mentioned memories) and it's very, very old (almost 30! which in truck years is like 80). It was sooooo satisfying to be able to go to the dealership and pick which truck we wanted and say this is what we will pay and then write them a check for it. We got a GREAT deal on this baby. She is a 2005, Chevy 2500, full cab beauty with a spray-in bed liner. She has 38,000 miles and was kept in a garage her whole life. We are going to get some new tires for her and that's about all she needs. Need I tell you how excited my husband was? I think not!