Happy Halloween, Maties!

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

From the Pirates Bernaaaaaaaaaaaard, of course.

Daddy, you're Captain Hook!
I'm Mr. Smee!
Totally.



Mama, you're a princess.  (OK. I'll take it.)

Aaargh, maties! (Note the Pirate Bunny.  Very fierce.)
In related news, I bought the good candy.  I have my priorities straight.

Hope no one makes you walk the plank today.

Talk soon,
First Mate Heather

um...

Monday, October 29, 2012

When did my baby disappear?

And who is this pre-teen?


Pictures like this make me think things like:  When does he get a cell phone?  When will he start riding his bike around the neighborhood with his buddies?  When will I stop getting lots of hugs?  When will he start being really picky about where his clothes come from?  When will he stop thinking I am cool?  

And then I remember that life is beautiful.  And my job is to treasure every moment.

And then I remember that he's still pooping in his pants.  And I feel better.

Hope you treasure the moments today.

Talk soon,
Heather

milestones and pirates

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Ten years ago, on Durel's birthday, he went to a Tool concert in San Antonio with his friends, Sean and Emily.  Sean and Emily liked each other, but I can't remember if they were dating.  Yet.

Durel and I liked each other, but we were not dating.  Yet.

This year for Durel's birthday, I blew it out.  2012 has been quite a year.  And of all the milestones worth celebrating, what better than a birthday and a ten year anniversary of us, you know, hanging out sometimes?

Ever the libation-conscious hostess, I set up a bar.  (The beer was outside.  You know there was beer.)

Liz, I blame the Fresca on you.  Also, world, note the Yoda napkins.

I made a ton of food, guys.  And I didn't take pictures of anything but this white bean and artichoke dip, which was totally awesome:



I found the recipe for the white bean dip on Two Peas and Their Pod.  I totally recommend it.  It's like hummus, but if you're like me and always forget to buy the tahini, you're still good.

I made a baked wheel of Brie, wrapped in dough, and covered with a raspberry chipotle sauce.  With apple slices for dipping.  Yum.

I also bought the spinach dip from HEB that is *addictive*.  With veggies for dipping.

And, the piece de resistance, I made the Pioneer Woman's veggie lasagna.  It's really good, guys.

And, of course, ten years later, Durel, Sean, Emily and myself were not out at all the cool bars, which we knew without having to ask or even ponder.  Nope.  We're all happily married and parents now, and so, instead, this happened:

Sorry, Emily. You are awesome.
With the help of our dear friends J&J&J, and T&M&D&L, other dear friends for the same decade, our boys (they're all boys, go figure) built what they were calling a "tree stick house."  Which entailed moving all of Durel's firewood from its neat pile near the fence to a pyre-like structure which helped the big guys to climb the tree.  

They're crafty.  We used to just have to watch out for ourselves, but now we have Jack and the Neverland Pirates to think about:


So, happy birthday, Durel.  And happy tenth anniversary of our hanging out-ness, Sean and Emily.  Here's to many more decades of all that fun.

Hope your day had some kick ass friends in it.

Talk soon,
Heather

it's almost halloween. are you scared?

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Every morning on my way to work, I hear a local haunted house advertised on the radio.  (Austinites, it's House of Torment.  Killing the radio waves, aren't they?)

This haunted house has three "houses" this year, each with a different theme.  One is called  Cursed:  The Howling.  One is called The Slaughterhouse.  And the third is called The Awakening.  And it has this in store for you:
In the wake of the prophesied apocalypse in 2012, the end of days has opened a portal of dark energy that is centuries old. With the humans escaping his grasp and the undead hordes battling his Soul Reaper Army, Commander Nemesis has chosen world annihilation over potential defeat. In an act of unthinkable destruction, Nemesis self-destructed the reactor that powers his vessel—The Reckoning. The cataclysmic event caused an explosion of dark energy that erupted through the world simultaneously ripping holes through the fabric of time and space. The fiends of old and the horrors of the unknown have now been awakened and they pour into the earth hungry and foul…
 Uh huh.  No way, dude.  I am scared just writing this.

I was a chicken.  Then, I became a mother.  And then I became Queen of the Chickens.  

I don't watch horror movies.  I got scared just going to the House of Torment website.  You literally could not pay me enough money to go to the House of Torment.  No dice.  

That's not to say that I hate Halloween.  On the contrary, I love it.  D and I love to dress up.  We love to dress Jack up.  And, dare I say it, this year our collective costumes might just blow everyone out of the high seas.

I love pumpkins, candy corn, changing leaves, bobbing for apples, trick or treating, and the lore of Halloween that does not involve things like undead hordes and chainsaws.  Thankyouverymuch.

And evidently, Jack shares my approach to the holiday. And would like to add to this list that he likes painting bats at school.


Do you love Halloween?  Am I the only chicken out there?

Hope your day is free of hungry zombies.

Talk soon,
Heather

half price books

Monday, October 22, 2012

There is a store in Austin called Half Price Books.  As the name implies, it's a discount bookstore.  They buy books from you; they sell used books, movies, and music, and they also sell new books, stationery and other fun bookstore-type stuff.

I love it, of course.  In my infinite nerddom, I am still a bookstore devotee.  Dude, I don't even have a Kindle.  And I don't care.

Half Price Books has an awesome kid's section, and I hadn't taken Jack there since he was a baby.  So, I hadn't taken him there since he's become 2 going on 22 and learned to select and demand things in stores of all kinds.

After his check up with his awesome ENT last week, we stopped there as a treat.   (Hot of the presses medical update:  From the second set of tubes, one's still in and one's out, as we head full-steam into cold and flu season.  Commence praying for ear health.)  

He loved it.


Though he spent some time with the Thomas books, we didn't get any.  He's not sure he wants to dive into that right now, and I'm kind of glad.  I think Thomas is weird.  If we are going into the Train Zone, I think I vote for Chuggington. Also, the fact that I have actually pondered this and have an opinion, while I have not read the Wall Street Journal in several years, feels unsettling to me.  But, I digress.

We settled on a few new ones by Dr. Seuss:




And a compilation of "three minute stories" from Sesame Street.  They take more than three minutes.  But they're cute.



I'm feeling good about these new additions to our book collection.  What are you reading these days?

Hope you think lots of thinks today.

Talk soon,
Heather

crab cakes

Saturday, October 20, 2012

The other day, Jack demanded a tortilla with his dinner.

Two and a half year olds are demanding.  This is not a newsflash.  Jack likes to eat.  Also not a newsflash.  So, the demand for a tortilla was totally not a problem.  And, I confess that as an assimilated Texan, I find that a flour tortilla complements almost any meal.  

I obligingly heated one up for him.

He promptly rejected it.

Why?  Because it was not as good as the last one he'd had.  Which was at a Mexican restaurant.


Fair enough.  He resumed eating dinner and I tweeted something about how you know your child is a Texan when they demand a tortilla for dinner.  And that you know they're two when they then refuse to eat it.  I crack myself up sometimes.

And then I thought, holy crap.  He's a Texan.  He was born here.  This is home.  His frame of reference will always include knowing the difference between a good tortilla and a shitty one.  That's nuts.

And then I thought, HE WON'T KNOW ABOUT CRAB CAKES.

In case you're new here, I grew up on the completely idyllic and often very backward Eastern Shore of Maryland.  Its dearth of urbanity is made up for by its wealth of fresh seafood from the Chesapeake Bay.  Crabs are The Thing.  Crabs rule.  

Not even kidding.  This is Chestertown.  [image credit]

It goes without saying that I don't eat crab cakes in Texas.  Because I know the difference between a good crab cake and a shitty one, and in Texas, they are all shitty.  THEY ARE ALL SHITTY BECAUSE THEY ADD BREAD.  Crabs are expensive, I get it.  And you can put all the breadcrumbs and stuff you want into your crabcakes, but they're shitty and I won't eat them.  

Ahem.  Where was I?

Right, crab cakes.

I know that I can make him crab cakes and teach him.  I know that we'll visit Maryland and I'll force encourage him to try them.  I get it.  This is not, shall we say, an insurmountable obstacle.  But the forceful part of the realization for me is that his little postmodern self is being formed here.  Crabs will be a stretch.  Tortillas will not.  He is my child, and will always be my baby, but he's different than me.  And that's trippy and scary and miraculous and awesome.

You know you're from Maryland when a crab cake makes you this philosophical.

Hope your crab cakes are bread free and your epiphanies are awesome today.

Talk soon,
Heather 

ninja at rest

Friday, October 19, 2012

Our "parent homework" for Jack's school this week was to discuss with him what we do for a living.  His entire class was scheduled to discuss it today.

I sort of forgot about it until yesterday but then, in true Type A fashion, didn't want Jack to be unprepared for this fundamental moment of toddler sharing and caring.  (I know.)

So, I started.  

"Jack, do you know what I do for a living?"

[blank look]

"Momma's a lawyer.  Can you say lawyer?"

"Woyah."

"Cool."

I thought about trying to explain what lawyers do, and quickly decided against it.  A) He's 2.  He doesn't care.  B) It's hard to explain to adults, much less children.  C)  It's boring.  I mean, I really love my job.  But I'm a nerd.  It's really boring.  D)  Being a lawyer makes you itemize your own thoughts into bulleted lists.  Case in point.

And then I thought -- Dude, he's young for this.  I am happy to do it, but I mean.  I don't know.  We should have some fun with this.  Luckily, Durel and I have very similar senses of humor and he was On My Wavelength.

So, then Durel took over.

"Jack, do you know what I do for a living?"

[blank look]  (See?  He's bored by this.)

"Daddy's a ninja.  Can you say ninja?"

"Minja!"

"Cool."

So yes.  We sent him to school full of his parental occupational knowledge, which is that Momma is a Woyah and Daddy is a Minja.

And then he played it out.  Even ninjas need naps, you know.


Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween, Maties!

From the Pirates Bernaaaaaaaaaaaard, of course.

Daddy, you're Captain Hook!
I'm Mr. Smee!
Totally.



Mama, you're a princess.  (OK. I'll take it.)

Aaargh, maties! (Note the Pirate Bunny.  Very fierce.)
In related news, I bought the good candy.  I have my priorities straight.

Hope no one makes you walk the plank today.

Talk soon,
First Mate Heather

Monday, October 29, 2012

um...

When did my baby disappear?

And who is this pre-teen?


Pictures like this make me think things like:  When does he get a cell phone?  When will he start riding his bike around the neighborhood with his buddies?  When will I stop getting lots of hugs?  When will he start being really picky about where his clothes come from?  When will he stop thinking I am cool?  

And then I remember that life is beautiful.  And my job is to treasure every moment.

And then I remember that he's still pooping in his pants.  And I feel better.

Hope you treasure the moments today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Thursday, October 25, 2012

milestones and pirates

Ten years ago, on Durel's birthday, he went to a Tool concert in San Antonio with his friends, Sean and Emily.  Sean and Emily liked each other, but I can't remember if they were dating.  Yet.

Durel and I liked each other, but we were not dating.  Yet.

This year for Durel's birthday, I blew it out.  2012 has been quite a year.  And of all the milestones worth celebrating, what better than a birthday and a ten year anniversary of us, you know, hanging out sometimes?

Ever the libation-conscious hostess, I set up a bar.  (The beer was outside.  You know there was beer.)

Liz, I blame the Fresca on you.  Also, world, note the Yoda napkins.

I made a ton of food, guys.  And I didn't take pictures of anything but this white bean and artichoke dip, which was totally awesome:



I found the recipe for the white bean dip on Two Peas and Their Pod.  I totally recommend it.  It's like hummus, but if you're like me and always forget to buy the tahini, you're still good.

I made a baked wheel of Brie, wrapped in dough, and covered with a raspberry chipotle sauce.  With apple slices for dipping.  Yum.

I also bought the spinach dip from HEB that is *addictive*.  With veggies for dipping.

And, the piece de resistance, I made the Pioneer Woman's veggie lasagna.  It's really good, guys.

And, of course, ten years later, Durel, Sean, Emily and myself were not out at all the cool bars, which we knew without having to ask or even ponder.  Nope.  We're all happily married and parents now, and so, instead, this happened:

Sorry, Emily. You are awesome.
With the help of our dear friends J&J&J, and T&M&D&L, other dear friends for the same decade, our boys (they're all boys, go figure) built what they were calling a "tree stick house."  Which entailed moving all of Durel's firewood from its neat pile near the fence to a pyre-like structure which helped the big guys to climb the tree.  

They're crafty.  We used to just have to watch out for ourselves, but now we have Jack and the Neverland Pirates to think about:


So, happy birthday, Durel.  And happy tenth anniversary of our hanging out-ness, Sean and Emily.  Here's to many more decades of all that fun.

Hope your day had some kick ass friends in it.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

it's almost halloween. are you scared?

Every morning on my way to work, I hear a local haunted house advertised on the radio.  (Austinites, it's House of Torment.  Killing the radio waves, aren't they?)

This haunted house has three "houses" this year, each with a different theme.  One is called  Cursed:  The Howling.  One is called The Slaughterhouse.  And the third is called The Awakening.  And it has this in store for you:
In the wake of the prophesied apocalypse in 2012, the end of days has opened a portal of dark energy that is centuries old. With the humans escaping his grasp and the undead hordes battling his Soul Reaper Army, Commander Nemesis has chosen world annihilation over potential defeat. In an act of unthinkable destruction, Nemesis self-destructed the reactor that powers his vessel—The Reckoning. The cataclysmic event caused an explosion of dark energy that erupted through the world simultaneously ripping holes through the fabric of time and space. The fiends of old and the horrors of the unknown have now been awakened and they pour into the earth hungry and foul…
 Uh huh.  No way, dude.  I am scared just writing this.

I was a chicken.  Then, I became a mother.  And then I became Queen of the Chickens.  

I don't watch horror movies.  I got scared just going to the House of Torment website.  You literally could not pay me enough money to go to the House of Torment.  No dice.  

That's not to say that I hate Halloween.  On the contrary, I love it.  D and I love to dress up.  We love to dress Jack up.  And, dare I say it, this year our collective costumes might just blow everyone out of the high seas.

I love pumpkins, candy corn, changing leaves, bobbing for apples, trick or treating, and the lore of Halloween that does not involve things like undead hordes and chainsaws.  Thankyouverymuch.

And evidently, Jack shares my approach to the holiday. And would like to add to this list that he likes painting bats at school.


Do you love Halloween?  Am I the only chicken out there?

Hope your day is free of hungry zombies.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, October 22, 2012

half price books

There is a store in Austin called Half Price Books.  As the name implies, it's a discount bookstore.  They buy books from you; they sell used books, movies, and music, and they also sell new books, stationery and other fun bookstore-type stuff.

I love it, of course.  In my infinite nerddom, I am still a bookstore devotee.  Dude, I don't even have a Kindle.  And I don't care.

Half Price Books has an awesome kid's section, and I hadn't taken Jack there since he was a baby.  So, I hadn't taken him there since he's become 2 going on 22 and learned to select and demand things in stores of all kinds.

After his check up with his awesome ENT last week, we stopped there as a treat.   (Hot of the presses medical update:  From the second set of tubes, one's still in and one's out, as we head full-steam into cold and flu season.  Commence praying for ear health.)  

He loved it.


Though he spent some time with the Thomas books, we didn't get any.  He's not sure he wants to dive into that right now, and I'm kind of glad.  I think Thomas is weird.  If we are going into the Train Zone, I think I vote for Chuggington. Also, the fact that I have actually pondered this and have an opinion, while I have not read the Wall Street Journal in several years, feels unsettling to me.  But, I digress.

We settled on a few new ones by Dr. Seuss:




And a compilation of "three minute stories" from Sesame Street.  They take more than three minutes.  But they're cute.



I'm feeling good about these new additions to our book collection.  What are you reading these days?

Hope you think lots of thinks today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Saturday, October 20, 2012

crab cakes

The other day, Jack demanded a tortilla with his dinner.

Two and a half year olds are demanding.  This is not a newsflash.  Jack likes to eat.  Also not a newsflash.  So, the demand for a tortilla was totally not a problem.  And, I confess that as an assimilated Texan, I find that a flour tortilla complements almost any meal.  

I obligingly heated one up for him.

He promptly rejected it.

Why?  Because it was not as good as the last one he'd had.  Which was at a Mexican restaurant.


Fair enough.  He resumed eating dinner and I tweeted something about how you know your child is a Texan when they demand a tortilla for dinner.  And that you know they're two when they then refuse to eat it.  I crack myself up sometimes.

And then I thought, holy crap.  He's a Texan.  He was born here.  This is home.  His frame of reference will always include knowing the difference between a good tortilla and a shitty one.  That's nuts.

And then I thought, HE WON'T KNOW ABOUT CRAB CAKES.

In case you're new here, I grew up on the completely idyllic and often very backward Eastern Shore of Maryland.  Its dearth of urbanity is made up for by its wealth of fresh seafood from the Chesapeake Bay.  Crabs are The Thing.  Crabs rule.  

Not even kidding.  This is Chestertown.  [image credit]

It goes without saying that I don't eat crab cakes in Texas.  Because I know the difference between a good crab cake and a shitty one, and in Texas, they are all shitty.  THEY ARE ALL SHITTY BECAUSE THEY ADD BREAD.  Crabs are expensive, I get it.  And you can put all the breadcrumbs and stuff you want into your crabcakes, but they're shitty and I won't eat them.  

Ahem.  Where was I?

Right, crab cakes.

I know that I can make him crab cakes and teach him.  I know that we'll visit Maryland and I'll force encourage him to try them.  I get it.  This is not, shall we say, an insurmountable obstacle.  But the forceful part of the realization for me is that his little postmodern self is being formed here.  Crabs will be a stretch.  Tortillas will not.  He is my child, and will always be my baby, but he's different than me.  And that's trippy and scary and miraculous and awesome.

You know you're from Maryland when a crab cake makes you this philosophical.

Hope your crab cakes are bread free and your epiphanies are awesome today.

Talk soon,
Heather 

Friday, October 19, 2012

ninja at rest

Our "parent homework" for Jack's school this week was to discuss with him what we do for a living.  His entire class was scheduled to discuss it today.

I sort of forgot about it until yesterday but then, in true Type A fashion, didn't want Jack to be unprepared for this fundamental moment of toddler sharing and caring.  (I know.)

So, I started.  

"Jack, do you know what I do for a living?"

[blank look]

"Momma's a lawyer.  Can you say lawyer?"

"Woyah."

"Cool."

I thought about trying to explain what lawyers do, and quickly decided against it.  A) He's 2.  He doesn't care.  B) It's hard to explain to adults, much less children.  C)  It's boring.  I mean, I really love my job.  But I'm a nerd.  It's really boring.  D)  Being a lawyer makes you itemize your own thoughts into bulleted lists.  Case in point.

And then I thought -- Dude, he's young for this.  I am happy to do it, but I mean.  I don't know.  We should have some fun with this.  Luckily, Durel and I have very similar senses of humor and he was On My Wavelength.

So, then Durel took over.

"Jack, do you know what I do for a living?"

[blank look]  (See?  He's bored by this.)

"Daddy's a ninja.  Can you say ninja?"

"Minja!"

"Cool."

So yes.  We sent him to school full of his parental occupational knowledge, which is that Momma is a Woyah and Daddy is a Minja.

And then he played it out.  Even ninjas need naps, you know.


 
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