Deep Fried Lifestyle

Last night Kev took me out to dinner to celebrate Mother’s Day.  I have been craving beef like crazy lately (I could probably eat an entire cow minus the icky parts if I had the chance) so we headed out to our almost local steakhouse (There are not a whole lot of things that are actually local for us yet, but a brand new McDonald’s just opened three minutes from our house so I expect further development is just around the corner.) for some serious meat eating.  When my meal arrived, I was completely surprised to discover that my baked potato was deep fried.  Now correct me if I’m mistaken, but I thought the fact that the potato has “baked” right in the title pretty much means it isn’t normally deep fried.  So you can see where my confusion comes in.

What kind of a crazy world do we live in where people think that everything must be fried?  Don’t get me wrong, I like a great batch of french fries just as much as the next person and some fantastic onions rings are high on my list of occasional indulgences, but there are things that I definitely don’t think should be dipped in hot oil.  Obviously there are those who disagree, which can be proven by the existence of such foods as deep fried twinkies, ice cream, candy bars . . . and baked potatoes.  Those of you who like these things, forgive me, but “EEUUWW!”

So I ate the baked portion and left the deep fried wrapper on my plate.  Because if I had been in the mood for deep fried, I would have ordered fries.  And then I happened to glance over and realized that the lemon half Kev had been given with his prawns was covered in a little elasticized mesh strainer (Remember those Saran quick covers?  Like that only tiny, yellow and mesh.). And I realized that not only do we live in a world where everything is destined to wind up in the deep fat fryer (the day my cheesecake comes batter dipped and fried is the day I start looking for a ship off this planet), but we are also too lazy to pick the lemon seeds off our seafood.

But the beef was fabulous.  And I have leftovers for today.  Happy me!

Feeling Waxy

This morning Nathan participated in a wax museum at school.  He chose to portray Teddy Roosevelt and I was very impressed by how hard he worked to prepare.  He had everything done two days in advance and was one of the few kids I saw who actually had his script memorized rather than reading it off the poster.  He did a great job!

Oh Yeah, Now I Remember What Happens...

The pregnancy induced carpal tunnel syndrome has set in.  Yippee for me.  (If you missed the sarcasm dripping from that last comment, be sure to go back and read it again.)

(Goose) Egg Head

My boys seem to have a thing about head wounds.  Daniel and Matthew have both had stitches right in the middle of their foreheads and when I picked Nathan up at school today after his teacher called to tell me he fell down the cement stairs outside, whether or not he would need stitches was the concern at the top of his list.  Luckily for him, he escaped the needle and just ended up with a monster size bump on his head.  The pictures do not do justice to the lovely purple color of the bruise, but you can see how far off his head the lump swelled.

And of course Nathan was all concerned that I would be upset that his glasses are messed up again.  I just figure that is an unavoidable part of life when you have a child in glasses and besides, he hasn’t actually broken a pair in about a year and a half.  They get bent up pretty regularly, but we aren’t replacing them three or four times a year anymore so I’m less likely to get frustrated.

So other than a headache, Nathan got off pretty easy.  He felt like he was going to throw up for awhile (which is never a good sign when dealing with head trauma) but it passed fairly quickly and once the Tylenol kicked in he was back to his regular old self.

It Lets Us Focus on the Important Aspects of the Holiday

We’re not big Easter Bunny fans around here.  In fact, our boys know there is no Easter Bunny and that the grownups are the ones who hide the eggs and fill the baskets.  But we still color eggs and all that (It is the one time of year when Matthew is actually allowed to touch eggs.  For the other 364.9 days of the year, they are strictly off limits.).  This year we gathered at my parents’ house on Friday to color eggs with most of my nieces and nephews.  On Saturday we reconvened for the annual hunting of the eggs.  The kids younger than twelve get to hunt, the youngest getting a few minutes head start, then the middle aged ones getting a couple of minutes and the oldest ones are let loose last.  Now that Matthew knows his letters and can recognize his name, he hunts eggs by finding the ones that have his name or initial written on them.  He thought this was “super easy” and had a good time.

Nathan was in serious search mode and found plenty of treats.

After awhile, Kev asked, “Where’s Daniel?” And we all realized that whoever was in charge of letting the kids out had forgotten to let the biggest kids out.  As a result, Daniel only ended up with six eggs, but luckily for him our teenage egg hiders are tall (With only one exception, all of my nieces and nephews over the age of ten are taller than I am.) and as one of the tallest ones hunting eggs, Daniel was able to snag a few that the younger children just couldn’t get to.

And although Daniel got seriously shortchanged, we made up for it by filling his basket with an entire bag of jelly beans and a whole package of peeps on Sunday morning.  And then the boys got their happy on by consuming exorbitant amounts of sugar.

Ummmm . . . What Was I Saying?

Okay, now that the cat is out of the bag, let me apologize profusely to all of you who may have had the misfortune to be affected by my enormous lack of brain power over the last few months.  Seriously, if my brain weren’t glued in I would probably forget that to.  I know that pregnancy can make one forgetful, but if it is this bad this early I think there is a very distinct chance I may actually forget to breathe later on.  So if you happen to notice me turning blue later this summer, just elbow me and remind me that breathing is not optional.

Apparently Miracles Do Happen

I love mother; she loves me.

We love daddy, yes sirree;

He loves us and so you see,

We are a happy family.

I love sister; she loves me.

We love brother, yes sirree.

He loves us and so you see,

We are a happy family!

Introducing . . . 

 Malia!!!

(Of course, we reserve the right to change that name if she looks like someone else when she gets here)

Anticipated Arrival: Late September

We expect to be excited soon, but right now things are still sinking in.  Nathan is excited and nervous (His actions say that he is mostly excited.  He is telling pretty much everyone he sees.).  Matthew says he is excited but when I asked him if he even had any idea what all this meant, he happily said, “No!”  Daniel is still pretty much uncertain about the whole thing and I think he is going to need some time to adjust.  Of course, that is normal for him.  When Nathan was born Daniel wouldn't even touch him for about two weeks.  Luckily for all of us, we have some time to get used to the idea.

Old McWheeler Had A Farm…

Today Matthew had a fieldtrip to Wheeler Farm.  Yes, I know it was snowing.  We went anyway.  And in spite of the snow (and the enormous amount of mud that a wet day creates on a farm) we had a great time!  I didn’t take any pictures (I figured I had enough on my hands with the snow, hats, gloves, mud and patrolling a four year old on a farm) so you’ll have to use your imagination.

Now taking a kid who is allergic to milk and eggs to a farm can be an interesting experience because when the lovely tour guide asks questions like “What do we get from cows?” or “What do we get from chickens?”  she expects a four year old to know the answer.  Poor lady must have thought the completely blank stares meant Matthew was short-bus-special until I whispered to her that he is allergic and therefore hasn’t a clue in the world where milk, yogurt, cheese and eggs come from since he has never eaten them.

Matthew had mixed feelings about the animals: He was impressed by how tall the cows were.  One of the horses was awesome because it was so long.  The tom turkeys gobbled at the kids (Every one of them jumped at least six inches.  Maybe I’m a mean mom, but it totally made me laugh!) and after the tour guide told them that they do that to make everyone think they are in charge he sidled back to me and told me, “They scared me out.”  The coolest goat was the one with one horn.  He wouldn’t touch the sheep’s wool the tour guide had.  All through the tour he kept making horse sounds.  And he couldn’t wait to see the “hens.”  (Don’t ask me where he learned that word.  I have no idea.)  He has been excited about this adventure for weeks and I don’t think he was in any way disappointed.

Although Matthew seemed underwhelmed, I really enjoyed watching the blacksmith doing his thing.  We watched him turn a metal rod into a lovely leaf and I was very impressed.  I mentioned that it made me appreciate my silverware a whole lot more and the blacksmith told me that many years ago forks were frequently made with only two tines because they were easier.  After seeing him hammer a red hot rod into a recognizable shape, I would definitely have to agree!

I think my favorite moment (again, I think I’m a mean mom) was when we were feeding the ducks.  The duck feed for the day was wheat and I held Matthew’s first handful while he took little sprinkles and scattered them around.  Then he got a second handful and before he could pass it to me, one of the ducks came and ate right out of his hand.  He went very still, then slowly lowered his arm and let the rest of his wheat drop to the ground.  Needless to say, he was totally done feeding the ducks at that point.  On our way back to the car, he informed me that the duck was “very naughty.”  When I tried to get him to tell Kev about it later this evening, he shook his head and whispered to me, “It’s too scary.”  I seriously hope he doesn’t end up having naughty duck dreams for the next thirty years because I thought it was hilarious!

So while I wouldn’t necessarily suggest going in the snow, Wheeler Farm is a fun place to visit!