Inspirational Story

Any of you readers out there have an interesting story that you don't mind seeing in print? Perhaps you overcame adversity, or know someone who did? Think "The woman who lost her sight and now sees... The person who was broke but then an amazing meeting at a grocery store brought in a windfall of cash" as opposed to "The gal who got a Prada handbag on Ebay for a buck" or "The amazing powers of the Cheese Wheel." The second is inspirational, but not what the magazine is looking for.

How about a great animal story? Perhaps a dog story or cat rescue adventure where the animal saves you from a rolling boulder or avalanche? (Is this too much to ask?)

On other notes, Pip is snoozing, the rain is coming down, and I'm finally making some progress. Heaven!

I'm taking 3 hours to myself tomorrow and meeting my old tv partner. We're going to gossip, strategize, and stuff ourselves silly with tacos. I have a great movie... (here we go.. everyone in LA has a script... but I really do.) And it's just sitting here. And that's dumb. It's set in Texas. As it turns out, my sister's best friend is a big exec at CMT. Um... duh? Time to nepotize to materialize! Watch money appear before my eyes! Watch my thrift store purchases reach to the skies! Watch me celebrate with 1000 pies and get laser surgery for my eyes! Watch me get a personal trainer for my thighs and get animal cookies in every shape and size!

This wraps up our portion of Mama P poetry for the afternoon.

Send me your stories, people !!!!!!!!!!!!! Andrea.Paventi@gmail.com

The Meeting is Canceled

I met Cecelia for lunch today. She kicked me in the ass about asking for what I need in all directions of my life. Then she paid the bill.

Tonight Mrs. V. confirmed Cecelia's agenda of Power to Mama P and signed up for a monthly Friday Mom's Who Drink night.

These are my two best friends.

These two women have never met.

Given both their Master degrees, iron will, organizational skills of Martha Beck and ability to shave down my bravado into the weak little pussy that it is really is, they never will. I would emerge from a girls' lunch unrecognizable, a woman with 90 hours a week to myself, trunk dividers and pressed under garments.

Like a kosher kitchen, these women shall never mix or may Yahwey smite me into Kibutz living without coffee.

(Love you gals!)

A Giant Among Pygmies

Do any of you ever feel like you're doing so much that you're doing nothing? I am kind of there right now. Sure, I'm up in the morning writing, but has my article yet been published? Um, no. Have I gotten anything since? Um, no. Am I making a fortune ebaying? Um, no. And so on and so on and so on.

I often wonder: how much of this energy devoted to "being accomplished" is just internal drive and how much of it is society based: "If you don't make X amount, you suck." How much of it is insecurity? Or how much of it is just plain necessity that, as an intelligent woman with an interesting life before the routine of mothering, I require stimulation of the cranial kind here and there?

Not sure. Don't know. But I'm working on it.

Not a very exciting post to be sure. But I did buy these rainboots for Stink the other day. I like them. They say to the world: I'm an animal of a different color. I'm not afraid of a little water. I will smile. I will flirt with you. But don't fuck with me, cause I'll rip your head right off.

Mama P, You've Got Some 'Splainin to Do

In an effort keep my children in line, as well as maintain the magic of childhood, I have created quite a nice fantasy life for them. However, the day they learn that I'm full of crap, I'm going to have, as Ricky Ricardo says, quite a bit of 'splainin to do.

Just a few things that are going to kick me in the ass one day:

* Mommy doesn't really have a third eye in the back of her head that watches you all the time. Remember the time I extracted it "from my brain" for you to take to Show N Tell? It was really a plastic ball I stuck under my bed headed ponytail.

* A big fat man does not bring you gifts each year. That's your Mommy, who downed one too many animal cookies in the height of holiday stress.

* Scooby Doo will not ever solve the mystery of the missing purple bottle. I lobbied it into the garbage bin behind Target when you were fixated on a Dora book. Oh, and Scooby isn't real. But many of the ghosts that haunt him will most likely try to get you some day. Fight the good fight.

* You did not really pop out of my tummy. You were pushed through my lower extremities with more gas than our Taco Tuesday extravaganzas.

* I don't really know everything (but don't tell your father.) Speaking of...

* Your papa can't really fix everything. Especially things of the heart. As you get older, you'll realize you are loved, but we have to love ourselves just as much.

* Nemo is not alive in the ocean, but the fish you eat in your tuna sandwich once was.

When they process the concept about how things we don't see often aren't real, they'll inevitably press me for answers on why they're supposed to believe in God.

I suppose I'll cross that bridge when I come to it... the bridge that does not have a troll living under it asking you how to say "Open" in Spanish. FYI: It's "Abre" and "Help me" (because I'm gonna need it) is "Ayuda me!"

Be My Guest, Be My Guest...

"... put your writing to the test! Fill in for Mama P on weekends so that I can have a rest..."

Did ya'll sing along with the Beauty and the Beast song for that?

I have this grand idea to put some of you to work as a "guest author" once/week to get not only your writing exposed but give my readers a break from the Mama P litany of cooking, writing and toilet training quests... as exciting as that is.

The theme is going to be "People we love." You get to post a photo of someone past or present, deceased or alive, and give us a short bio of how they touched your lives. It could make for some interesting insight, don't you think?

San Fran KD, you're up. If you're interested in posting something about Catherine, this might be a good chance for you. If not, and you want to post about someone else, great. If you don't want to do that, well... I will put a post in your place about how we climb the path to success with ladders of rejection - rung by rung. But I know you'll say yes.

On another note, I just heard back from a third magazine today. Nothing earth shattering, but they're going to consider a quiz pitch I had and get back to me. I am thrilled to hear that many of you are following through on your hobbies, too. (Cecelia, I expect a cake shaped like a computer sent to me pronto.)

I am off to check on my kids who are watching "The Muppet Show". Not sure if they like it or not. Man, it's good, but so much slower than today's shows. Half the guests I've never heard of. (But it's better than watching Paris Hilton do a strip tease with Miss Piggy.)

Happy weekend, people.

Got a Query For You

What's the one thing you have always wanted to do but it remains lying on the bottom of the list, like a smudged silver tray on the bottom of the wine cabinet? -- It has the potential to shine, but you just don't feel like moving everything around to work on it.

For some of you it might be voiceovers, for others it's go back to school. For others, it's something small: organize those damn photos you have dating back to 1982.

For me, it's magazine writing. Since I can't do the 60 hour tv weeks (nor am I that good of a schmoozer... hard to believe, but true) I love the concept of the article. 200, 500, 1000 words... To quote a friend, Toni, these quick bursts of writing go well with my "hummingbird brain." I can write, read and research within a reasonable time frame, make some money and start building a portfolio from the comfort (and sometimes insanity) of my own home.

Some of you might know that I landed my first national magazine gig a few months back and now am on my second rewrite. Am I nervous that they'll change their mind? Sure, but I'm going to keep going. This weekend I'm going to land myself a sitter and finish it. Um, Mom.....? Cecelia? Anyone got 4 hours to spare? (No, not you Mrs. V.... your man is coming back from business and you are going to SLEEP in on Sunday... no teaching, please!)

And the 5am thing has been working out, too. I finally heard back from another magazine this morning with a "we're not hiring now, but we like your stuff and we'll send it up to the senior editor". Yeah!

I tell you all this not to brag, but to say that it's possible. With the advent of the internet, we can research what we love and go for it. If we need to, we can get partners to support us. We can read inspirational stories. We can make ourselves something.

I have a lot to learn. I am grappling with the fantasy of what I thought life would be vs. what it really is. But I do know this: kids, spouses, family members, random lottery wins... it can all bring us joy. But often it's temporary as kids move out, spouses have their own lives, money is false satisfation if our minds aren't at peace. We women need to be our own best friends, and this means treating ourselves right.

Which for me, now, is bed. For all my talk about filling my soul, I'll be honest that it takes its toll physically. I'm exhausted. All I want is a hotel with white sheets and someone to serve me coffee in bed.

Oh, there's that fantasy talking now.

Reality? I'm going to change my own damn sheets and get the Yuban in the Mr. Coffee so the mister can flip it on for me on his way out the door at 5.am.

On the subject of sleeping, keep your dreams alive girls! And keep me posted.

Literally.

Something's Fishy

Tonight Rex made fish for us. I normally like his cooking, but this eve? Not so much. Sadly, the trout was about excited about the course as I was.

Lucky for me I had taught the kids how to make burritos earlier, so I snagged some left over cheese and chicken tortilla goodness after he left for his German lessons. (I can't get him to take a dance class, but his boss wants him to learn Deutch and suddenly he's running out the door quicker than Schwarzenegger cashing a Terminator paycheck. Maybe I just need a pair of high stockings and a corset, an invitation to an Octoberfest in hand? Beer and boobs - that'll get him dancing and shouting "danke Volkswagon!")

On other notes, it has been down right freeeeeezing around these parts. I know you East coasters have it much worse, and some Texans have been making noises about frozen ice. But holy buckets, batman, we Angelinos are just not used to it! How can we wear our fake tans with any semblance of modesty? "This old glow? I just got some sun shaking the frost bite off of my pool raft this morning." Right.

Well, I'm off to put the kids to bed. For the second time. I'm pretty strong normally about holding my ground when it comes to night time routines. But tonite I just knew Pip wasn't ready for sleep.

I told Rex that we couldn't put a princess in a new pair of Cinderella pjs and expect her to catch any beauty sleep. But the king disagreed. He wanted to eat his fish in peace.

Alas, there was no peace to be had as the princess jumped up and down on the joker's bed. So Rex finally gave up and went upstairs (while I dumped a bit more fish in the garbage) and came down with our little royalty. Rex gave me a "You were right, Queen Mama P" look and apologized to Pip for being too stern with her moments before. Then he laughed out loud when I coaxed Pip into hugging him, big eyed and wailing, "Oh, Papa, I'm just a giiiiiiirl!"

Moments later Rex left for studying. As he closed the door, I could have sworn he said, "I love you." Either that or, "I know you hated the fish." One or the other, they're both the truth.

At the Car Wash...

...na na na na.....

You can describe my general disposition today by merely looking at my car. I'd love to say my garage contains a sleek Porsche, shining like the top of the Chrysler building. But instead in my driveway sits a 2003 SUV. A very dirty SUV. With lots of fingerprints and monkey stickers taped to the window (because Stink "decided to try an experiment") and a handful of stale Goldfish stuck under the seat.

And while I wouldn't change it for a clean car and no life, today my car (which is me people... are you still with me on the analogy?) is tired. It ran around all day with preschool, shopping, errands, post office runs. It finally got a break and got a car wash, but even that took immense amounts of energy and concentration. When one has to beg for a shower and still ends up with crust in her crevices, it's not a good sign. (Okay, now I'm talking about the car. Sort of.)

I'm going to shut off the computer for the rest of the night. I'm going to make tacos. I'm going to stick the kids in bed by 6. And then, if I'm lucky, I'll watch a movie with Rex.

But most likely I'll pass out. I'm also PMSing, and unlike my car who got dried off under the rag, I'm soon to be on one.

And that's just ca-yukky for the energy.

Good night, ya'll.

Bienvenidos Amigas!

That's "Welcome everyone" in Spanish. I like the sound of it, because it makes my readership sound very Dooce like in quanity, as opposed to the 10 of you loyal fans that comment. However, I just heard from two lovely gals who have been suckered into this vortex of motherhood insanity, so to you both, glad you're here. Pull up a chair and hang out a bit.

If any of you were wondering where I've been the past few days, need I remind you that I have taken on the role of chief cook and bottle washer this month? Yes, true to my word, I have stuck to my theme of the week. Let's review, shall we?

Meat Monday (Pork Chops and apples - see earlier post)
Taco Tuesday
Wacky Wednesday (Tamale Pie - see earlier post)
Tomato Thursday (Recipe to come later this week as I actually will cook the noodles. Aldente is one thing. "Dent your wall" is another.)
Frozen Friday (Fish sticks and peas)
Sandwich Saturday
Stew/Soup Sunday (Stella's lentil soup... recipe at the end of this entry.)

On random notes, we went hiking yesterday. While Stink insisted on climbing all the way to the waterfall (an additional .5 miles uphill from the .5 miles we already trudged) Pip was all too happy to have me flag down the park ranger's golf cart and eat peanuts on the grass while we waited for the troops. I was informed that she does not like the mountains. "I like the baby sidewalk." Fair enough.

Last week was a nesting one of organizing closets, putting away last minute ornaments, cleaning out kitchen cabinets, throwing a few shelves up around the house. It's been nice, because while I don't love the process of cooking, it has forced me to find clever and easy ways to get the tools I need. In the process of finding space for lids, I've found space in my brain for my personal needs (including a new bra from Nordstroms, and some new cosmetics, and some left over ebay items that paid for them!)

Ain't it funny that sometimes what starts out as a chore ends up being just what we need? Like I sing to my kids "You can't always get what you want... You can't always get what you want..." (You know the rest.)

Any of you have tedious situations in your life right now that you think you'll never get through? If so, feel free to post. I promise that you're not alone.

And now, I leave you with Stella's lentil soup - sure to warm your belly, keep you low cal, and keep the kitchen smelling like Italy. (When it's done, may I suggest ringing a tacky camp bell to tell the family that "dinner is served?" It's particularly helpful if the hubby is glued to the computer and the kids are knee deep in Dora. Since they can't concentrate on their activities with the clanging of the bell, they're forced to give up and eat. And the cooking, even if not their favorite, is always preferable to ding dong ding dong ding dooooooooooooooooooooong.)

Dong... makes me giggle. Because, once again, I'm that immature.

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Stella's Lentil Soup (works for pea soup also)

Ingredients

2 tbsps olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
2 medium carrots diced
1 bay leaf
1 ½ cups canned Italian plum tomatoes with juice finely chopped
2 medium onions diced
15 ounces lentils
4 medium celery stalks diced
1/8 tsp dried basil
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation

In a large pot, heat olive oil then add onions and garlic. Let cook, stirring frequently, for about 5 minutes until golden. Add the lentils and 8 cups of water. Bring to a boil. Add the carrots and celery, cover and reduce heat to low. Simmer, stirring occasionally, about 45 minutes, or until the lentils are tender.

Stir in tomatoes and juice, the bay leaf, basil, salt and pepper. Add another 1 to 2 cups of water, a little at a time, as needed. Cover and simmer 30 minutes more, stirring often. Remove and discard the bay leaf. Serve hot.

Whatever Wednesday

I have rewritten that 1990's Winger song to "She's My Tamale Pie" because oooooh, laudy, dinner was good tonite.

A bit time intensive - but this was so easy. Stink had four helpings.

No joke. People with toddlers, you know this isn't easy.

Recipe below. Thank you, K!

Random notes:

Did any of you catch the rabbi from "Shalom in the Home" on Oprah today?

* http://tlc.discovery.com/fansites/shalom/shalom.html

He was talking about how America's families are falling apart because we give our kids things instead of our time. We value success over the whole person. We value looks over integrity. He spoke of the dangerous consequences of filling our kids' lives with "everything" rather than setting limits: love and boundaries.

I couldn't agree with this more. And while I'm soooooo far from a perfect parent, when I see my own children randomly tell me they love me, or offer up an empathetic opinion, or save the last piece of their cookie for their father in "a safe place" (which unfortunately is the window sill during ant season) I inwardly smile.

And I've said it before, and I'll say it again... perhaps the one thing I do the most right is during the times that feel the most wrong, I'm not afraid to ask for help. Often times this is just a phone call. Or a "can you meet for coffee?"

I don't know why more people don't do this. Life isn't about perfection. It's about doing the best we can with what we got. We're not islands. We all have strengths and weaknesses, so why not lean on someone else sometimes and give back when you're feeling better? Why are we women so afraid of looking bad to others? What's wrong with having a shitty hair day once in a while?

I really do believe that, like the rabbi said, happiness is a choice. It does not come from a partner. It comes from us being our best partner. It comes from a postive attitude - striving for the best but accepting the reality.

It comes from being flexible - and getting what you want despite your financial position.

I say trade off your kids with another mom if you're tired. As long as she's safe, who gives a hoot whether your child watches 2 hours more of tv that day. They'll thank you for dislodging your head out of their ass for a short time and live.

Let the laundry go one day. Forgive your husband for not being Prince Charming but instead a Star Trek Warrior who can fix any computer, never run out of batteries and give the best "toe hangings" in the galaxy to the two cutest aliens on the planet. Teach your daughter that wearing a princess costume is great, but she'd better wear some combat boots under the fluff and have a brain under her crown, because Prince Charming probably is only thinking with one magic wand. (And then, if she does end up with Prince Charming, if she's had a confident mommy, she can learn to forgive him for not being perfect. She'll let the castle get messy sometimes so she can put on the combat boots to go splashing in mud puddles and... you get the idea.)

I love all for putting up with me. Rant done.

Shalom everyone! Or should I say, Adios. Here's the tamale pie recipe. May you eat happily ever after....

Tamale Pie

Ingredients
2 1/4 cups cornmeal
1 1/2 cups evaporated milk
Filling:
1 1/2 lbs. ground beef
1 cup chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 cups (16 oz.) ORTEGA Enchilada Sauce
1 cup whole kernel corn
1 can (2.25 oz.) sliced ripe olives, drained
1 teaspoon salt
Crust:
2 cups water
1 teaspoon salt
1 can (4 oz.) ORTEGA Diced Green Chiles
1/2 cup (2 oz.) shredded cheddar cheese
sour cream for the top
salsa for the top(or tomoatoes)

DirectionsFOR FILLING:COOK beef, onion and garlic in a large skillet until beef is browned; drain. Stir in enchilada sauce, corn, olives and salt. FOR CRUST:PREHEAT oven to 425° F. Grease a 12 x 8-inch baking dish. COMBINE corn meal, water, evaporated milk and salt in medium saucepan. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, for 5 to 7 minutes or until thickened. Stir in chiles. Reserve 2 cups corn meal mixture; cover with plastic wrap. Spread remaining corn meal mixture on bottom and up sides of prepared baking dish.BAKE for 10 minutes. Cool in dish on wire rack. Spoon beef filling into corn meal crust. Spread reserved corn meal mixture over beef filling.BAKE for 15 to 20 minutes. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake for additional 5 to 10 minutes or until cheese is melted. Garnish with jalapeños, if desired.

Meat Monday AKA Pork Dork

Thank you, K, for a delicious recipe. Despite almost cooking it for 10 hours on HIGH not low (I think I was the one who was high) it turned out very well. (For us, not the pig. Sorry, Charlotte.)

Speaking of Charlotte, do you think Julia Roberts ate ham sandwiches while doing the voiceover for Charlotte's Web? The answer would be more fascinating than bad celebrity hair days - and that includes Britney Spear's horizontal winks from her limo which, I never saw. Unlike the pop princess, I'm sure I'm not missing much.

Apple Pork Roast ala Crock Pot

4 pounds pork loin roast trimmed

1/4 cup apple juice

1 x salt to taste

3 tablespoons brown sugar

1 x pepper to taste

1 teaspoon ginger ground

6 each apples quartered

Rub roast with salt and pepper.

Brown pork roast under broiler to remove excess fat; drain well.

Place apple quarters in bottom of crockpot.

Place roast on top of apples. Combine apple juice, brown sugar, and ginger. Spoon over top surface of roast, moistening well. Cover and cook on Low setting for 10 hours or until done.

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Tips in case directions confuse you, as they did me a bit.

Cutting an apple in fours is coring it, leaving skin on. They shrivel up into mushy balls of goodness later.

Mix your spices first, then put them on the chops.

The chops can have bones. And unlike my Diet Coke abstinence wagon, the meat is supposed to slide right off.

As you can see by the photo, (to go boxes courtesy of Stella's home closet clean out - I love them) by the time I scoured the meat for bones with the ferocity of a CSI investigator, the meat resembled that mall Chinese chicken they serve over rice. Not the best appearance, but ooooh so good. They'd be great over sandwiches.

Tonite was Taco Tuesday. Photos pretty apparent how I made them. (Except for the meat. Today I used turkey ground, but normally I cook chicken in the microwave, then shred it fine in a cuisinart. Finally, I add taco sauce in a pan. Less greasy than burger. And one more thing... I discovered that if I whip the refried beans in my Cusinart, they come out all "fluffy and really tasty". That's Mama P's acronym ala Rachael Ray's EVOO that spells the word: F.A.R.T. Given that they are beans, FART could stand for "Funny And Really True.")

Is it shocking I'm not writing for TV anymore? Susan, agent of wonder, do you not see the brilliance wasting away over the stove? Call me. Kiss kiss.

PS: I hear this is 'web delurker' week... which means all of you who read this drivel but don't comment need to come out of the shadows. Unless you're rapists or killers, in which case, you need to keep your shades drawn and enjoy your free recipes.

Don't It Make Your Blue Eyes Brown...

After one year to the day, our bathroom is finally completed. We did all of it ourselves, including demolition, except for the tiling. (By "we" I mean Rex. And by "demolition" I mean hack huge hammers against 4 layers of vinyl and pray that we don't die from Aspestos poisoning.)

I also have high hopes that the molding stays on our ceiling and not in our food. In a rare act of restraint, and in deference to my mother who feels I talk about poop too much, I am refraining from all ca ca jokes (Even though I am showing pictures of two... TWO... toilets. Feel free to send me the medal. Though I suppose in mentioning that I'm not talking about it I'm actually talking about it, but we'll let that go.)

My final reason for posting the photos (other than accolades and praise for taking longer to produce a working bathroom than a breathing fetus) is that I currently have apple pork roast in my crock pot for Meat Monday, recipe courtesy of K, courtesy of Allrecipes.com. Colored postings to come later this evening. Included in such illustrations are chipped 1950's tile and a porcelain kitchen sink with more pock marks than the bad guy from Grease.

The tough side of me feels no need to justify. The vain side of me feels compelled to explain that I really do have style.

Unless ya'll hate brown paint. In which case you will walk away thinking I'm both tacky and cheap.

But I love it! Hope the pork turns out as well (and doesn't take as long to finish.)

A Wrinkle in Time

Living in L.A., and being prone to compulsive thought processes, my latest obsession has been wrinkles. I suppose this is better than my short lived "I might be a lesbian" phase since I couldn't seem to connect with men and I had no trouble keeping girlfriends. Of course, after locking myself in a bathroom stall and calling my other in a panic over my new revelation, she had the intelligence to inform me that along with liking women for their brains, I must be willing to like their bodies and have sex with them for pleasure. Obession ended. (And no offense to any lesbians out there that read this. I love you all, but I'm freaky enough as it is. I don't need any other chick's emotion on top of it. Or on top of me. And not with work boots or bad bowl cuts. )

Hear that clunk? That was my one lesbian reader hitting her desk, offended as she applies her lipstick and looks cuter than I ever will. Hugs?

My new wrinkle obession is vastly higher than the "I am newly married and happy but I'm convinced I'm going to die of breast cancer... on Wednesday." It is only slightly lower than my "What if pour this cup of hot coffee onto my head? I don't want to, but I could, so does that mean I really do want to but won't admit it until I scald myself and end up one of those cutters living in an institution" phase. (That particular obsession ended early for the sheer fact that I would probably never get to drink coffee in the mental ward, and that would forever sadden me more than my burn marks. Saved by Yuban! Hoooraaah!)

My point: I'm almost 37. And while I pride myself at taking my age in stride and taking care of myself, I have started to see lines around my eyes. When I smiled the other day, I saw a dimple. Which would be cute if it really were a dimple, but it was instead a wrinkle.

I can attribute my new facial marks to the fact that I didn't wear enough sunscreen ever, or I abused my skin with shampoo for soap rather than fancy cosmetics when the kids were born (sad, but true) but the truth? I'm getting older.

And then I started looking at facelift sites. You know, because that's what we obsessive thought process people do.... Ex: "Hmmm, I have a freckle. My cousin's friend's mom had a mole one day and the next day croaked head first into a plus size bag of Skittles... I'm going to DIEEEEEEEEEE!"

Most cosmetic surgery sites showed the before and after photos. And here's the deal: Sure, each patient looked a bit more nipped, a bit more tucked. But you know what? They still looked 45, or 55, or like an ugly 26 year old with bigger breasts or a geeky guy who now has hair. What's the point? You can spend 2 or 20 k - you're still going to look your age and type.

This search got me thinking - something clearly I don't need to do anymore of, but none the less, here goes... no matter how perfect someone's skin is (say Dolly Parton), how can we still look at them and deduce their age? Why does she clearly appear in her 60's if her face is as flat as a teenagers? And if a teenager has acne and pock marks, how can we still tell that she's young?

Before you think me mad, let me inform you that the one saving grace about my obsessive compulsive nature is that coupled with it is a fairly low attention span, as well as pride and an irritation at futility. I get bored of my little crazy thoughts and within seven days, eight at the most, I tell my wacko brain messages to take a hike. But I encourage them not to thumb a ride with the lesbian sixty year old with the bad face lift and Dolly Parton melons... those are just my old neuroses floating around the boulevard and they'll rip your eyes right out.

Meatballs con Zoloft

Ladies & Gentlemen, in an effort to stave off disease, I am going into kitchen detox this week before my major meal cooking. (I swear it's only my oven that looks that bad, but still... like a person... if the outside is pretty but the inside looks like crap, nothing is going to work.)

However, I present to you a meal plan for next week with the ingredients. Directions to follow on another post so you don't land face first with drool coming out of your mouth, your head permanently attached to the F10 key.

I am also thinking that, rather than being flaky, I am being creatively open to suggestions before I meal shop. Fire away with menus, tips and perhaps a joke here and there. But do it by Saturday, because by Sunday I might never enter a supermarket again.

Going along with my weekly theme, let me introduce:

Meat Monday – Hamburgers

Ingredients

Use either pre-sliced patties for total quick meal prep, or 1 pound of ground beef (or turkey… you can get it in the frozen section for 1.99)
I package of Lipton onion mix for flavoring
1 package of buns
Fresh tomatos
4 potatoes
Green salad
Brocalli
1 oinion

Taco Tuesday

Ingredients and prep together as I do it super simple

4 Roma tomatoes chopped
1 onion chopped
2 cups mozzarella cheese shredded
1 avocado (stick in blender or with spoon mush it with a pinch of salt)
Left over meat from yesterday with taco seasoning added or salsa
1 pack of taco shells (or for fancier tacos, you can put some olive oil in a pan and grill some corn tortillas)
1 can refried beans (My tip: I stick them in the cusinart which makes them super fluffy, but not necessary)
I small can sliced olives
1 cup of salsa

If you choose to, put some rice on the side and half a can of corn.

Whatever Wednesday

Some sort of casserole involving turkey meat and noodles. Any suggestions?

Tomato Thursday – Meatballs Con Zoloft

(Originally penned by Stella as “My Mom’s Italian Meatballs – the best ever.” This can also be referred to as Testy Balls as the directions make me laugh. "Make sure the balls are firm, but not too hard." Yes, I really am that juvenile.

Ingredients

2 pounds ground beef
1 pound ground pork (not sausage)
2 eggs, fork beaten
1 ½ pack of Saltine Crackers (they come 4 packs/box)
¾ cup evaporated milk
¾ cup grated Parmesan cheese
½ cup fresh chopped parsley, finely cut
1 clove minced garlic or teaspoon garlic powder
½ tsp dried oregano
1 level tsp dried basil
1 can Ragu

Frozen Friday - Pizza (or anything you want to buy premade)

Cardboard with mozzarella? Works for the day, keeps the scurvy away… proceed.

Sandwich Saturday – Meatball sandwiches

(if you have any left… otherwise grilled cheese with leftover shredded mozzarella from Taco Tuesday)

Add sliced Roma tomatoes and cook up some frozen veggies of your choice

Stew or Soup Sunday – Stella’s Lentil soup.

If you hate lentil soup, then this week you get to use a can of whatever. Or post a soup you like. But I promise, this is the best lentil I have ever tried. And that’s with me cooking it. (Some people use a crock pot for lentils but I don’t have a recipe and am too lazy to search it. I like it this way.)

If your kids won’t go for it, make eggs and throw in some broccoli, or get some canned character soup and sneak in some carrots.

* I like the idea of breakfast for dinner one night a week, too. I forget who suggested it, but it's a good one. And since Stink can make his own eggs now, he'd dig that.

Well, I'm off to sleep. Not only did I bust my tail bone a few weeks back bumper bowling (apparently when the sign says "Do not cross dotted line" you're actually supposed to follow it) but today I stubbed my toe. This combined with getting up at 5am to write queries that seem to be landing in cyberspace black holes, I have a lot of rejections to prepare for.

Pleasant dreams. May the smells of zoloft meatballs bring you great joy.

Happy New Year Four Year Old

Today was my Scooby Doo's birthday. I'm uncertain if I'm more shocked that my first born is four or if I didn't cry. He has grown so much in the past few months alone - both physically (he's the size of a six year old) and emotionally ("It is not okay to whine for stuff, Mama, but we can cry when we're sad.") He's got the biggest heart of anyone in my family and funnier than hell. Half party boy, half lab rat, all warmth - he is truly an awesome person.

Perhaps the fact that I see him as a person now is why I'm not so emotional this year... I can cry all I want to, but he's not my baby anymore. He is a boy. His own unique human with likes and dislikes and hobbies and friends. I have no choice but to let him be just that.

Today we celebrated very low key with three other couples that Rex knows from his In and Out Burger days. All of us have kids now (all girls, but for Stink.) We did up a potluck, played computer games, ran around the yard, took a walk, painted and made a cake together. Five toddlers and chocolate? Um... pics to come later when I've dedusted the camera.

I had a nice holiday season, but I'm glad I put the Christmas stuff away today. Nice tidy boxes full of color and sparkle. Perhaps I'll be a vessel like that in 2007 - energy but togetherness combined.

Or maybe I'll just sit on my couch with my tenth cup of coffee and finish up "Mommies Who Drink" (Thanks, Cecelia. A good read.)

Happy New Year everyone!