If You Give A Mouse A Cookie

I should have known that cleaning out the pantry and freezer wouldn't be enough. Oh no. Operation Eat the Stockpile continues in our house. And things are going remarkably well. But I've never been the kind of gal who can leave well-enough alone.

So yesterday, in the spirit of The Great Clean Out, I set to work on my closet. Nothing was safe. All my clothes were cowering in the corners, afraid they'd be chucked out into the street.

Oh, and they had reason to be scared. The Oklahoma City consignment shops had better make some room. I have a elephantine pile of clothing to send your way.

Lets just pause a moment and revel in the organization.

**sniffle**

Oh heavens, I think I got a little choked up there. It's just such a beautiful sight.

And speaking of a beautiful sight, behold the shoe closet:

Yes. I have a shoe closet. And yes, that's a total princess thing to have. What's your point?

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Well, before you offend me with your Eye Rolling Princess Talk, let me distract you with my Coat of Many Colors.

I wore this long car coat only once. To the theater in New York City. The poor gal has never again seen the light of day. She's been hanging in my closet since May of 2005.

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She's got great buttons. And great colors.

Do you need my Coat of Many Colors?

Leave a comment on this post. Tell me why you need her. I'll randomly pick a winner on Monday, October 12th. I'll ship it to you. For free!

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Oh my. It will make me so happy to know my Coat of Many Colors is living with one of you.

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I'll go tell her she can stop cowering in the corner. She has been rescued from the Dreaded Consignment Pile.

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**the coat is a size medium. chocolate brown background color. lavender, navy, cream, and red flowers. coat will cause wearer to be able to perform all manner of magic tricks and can spontaneously heal all physical injuries and solve complicated math problems.

I'm On A Mission Here!

Times are tough, folks. Our budget is tight. Somethin's just gotta give.
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And in my house, that somethin' is the grocery budget. We spend so very much on food each month. It's outrageous.
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Plus, I have SO MUCH FOOD stockpiled here. You'd think I was preparing for Y2K, or Armageddon, or a Southern family reunion.
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It's ridiculous.
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So ridiculous that I've decided NOT to go to the grocery store for the rest of the week. Nor will we eat out. Nope. We're gonna eat what we've got. Yes we are.
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And in the spirit of my new mission. My Mission to Eat the Stockpile. I cleaned out the freezer today. I needed to get a sense of what I had to work with.
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Oh, I won't bore you with what I found. The FULL TRASH BAG of out-of-date items. No. I'll just show you the most impressive specimen:
Look again. Do you see the date? Yeah. That says August of 2004. Those hot dog wieners went bad in August of 2004.
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Folks, this is what my 5 year old looked like in August of 2004:

Hi tiny newborn baby William! Could you please tell your mommy to throw out those wieners?

.Could you ask her not to PACK AND MOVE those wieners to Oklahoma City in a few months? Could you also ask her not to STORE THEM FOR FIVE YEARS AFTER THEIR EXPIRATION? Could you also ask her why she even bought the hot dogs? Because no one in our house likes or eats wieners. Ask her that for me, would ya?

Thank you sugar, that is all. Now go sleep thru the night and give your mommy a break.
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And so today began the first day of Make Due With What You Have On Hand cooking.
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I made homemade turkey pot pie.


I made it with leftover turkey from Sunday.

I got the recipe here. And I managed NOT to burn the crust. A miracle in itself.

Oh and just gaze at the yummy insides. Turkey. A potato. Frozen vegetables. All ingredients I had on hand.

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And it tasted divine.

Plus, I used some of The Stockpile. It was a definite win/win.

Assorted Rita Ramblings

I have no cohesive thoughts today, people.

Instead, I have little thought fragments. Little complete thoughts that have been through the paper shredder.

Yes. Shredded thoughts. That's what you get today.

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First: I snuggled this adorable baby today. Her name is Lily. Little Lily Beans.


And OMG. She is just... just. Oh my. She's just delicious. That's all.

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Moving right along to the next thought fragment:

My baby girl likes nothing more than to find something - anything- on the floor and immediately climb that something...

And once she has scaled that something - anything - on the floor, she stands up on that something and begins to dance.

No music required.

She's a total fruitcake, this one. I'm certain she takes after me - I come from a long line of Crazy.

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And finally -

Paige loves nothing more than to empty. To empty things. Any thing at all. Like: my purse, the diaper bag, any and all drawers, the clothes dryer, the magazine rack, the book shelf...

I could go on and on, people.

Oh wait. I think I just did. I think I went on and on. Sorry.

So last night at dinner, she clawed her way into the cabinet. And guess what? SHE EMPTIED IT.

And each time she removed an item, she delivered it to the dinner table.

And honestly, we were just so happy to be having a peaceful meal, we just let her go go go.

Empty away baby girl. Just let us eat. Srsly.

So that's what she did. She delivered each plate one-by-one until the cabinet looked like this:

And the table was so full of dishes we could barely see our food.
The dishes were piled HIGH.

And then we cleaned them up.

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The end.

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Two. Only Two.

Listen, dear Internet, I've been a mommy for 5 years now. A mommy of a boy child. And I've answered lots of questions about **ahem** body parts. And I've heard all sorts of stories.

Like, the girl in William's Gymboree class who glanced at her daddy in the shower and accused him of having a tail.

And there was my friend's son who told her - after seeing her on the potty - that he was sorry she only had a medium-sized penis. (Don't you just know she got out the old hand mirror and tried to see what the heck was MEDIUM about it?)

All this to say, I've heard the stories, and I've had a few silly/funny body-part conversations with William myself. And I must say, I've handled them with grace and dignity. No really! I have!

Oh dear. But nothing could prepare me for tonight.

And before I share about tonight, I would like the Internet to know that, during the entirety of the conversation I'm about to divulge, I did not at any time smile, grin, chuckle, or snicker.

Prepare to be impressed.

This story takes place just before bathtime. The baby is clean, and it's William's turn for his scrubbing. Just prior to bathing, it is our preference that William Go PeePee. We've done this every single night before bath for the last, oh, three years.

And this, dear Internet, is the conversation had between myself (The Momma) and my five year old boy (William):

William (while peeing): Momma! There are two little balls under my peepee!

Momma: Well sure there are honey. All boys have those.

William: All boys have these? **pause** What about girls?

Momma: Nope. Only boys get those.

William: What about daddy? Does he have these rubber balls on his peepee?

Momma: (STILL NOT SMILING) Yep. He sure does. God gave all the boys those.

William: How many does daddy have?

Momma: Two. Just like you.

William: No momma, I've seen that thing - daddy's got at least four down there.

And I've waited until just now to laugh hysterically.

Thank you, Internet. I feel cleansed.

Talking Turkey

Folks, I participated in the Frying of A Turkey this evening.

I sure did.

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And tomorrow, I will elaborate. Tonight, I'm just too tired. I think it's a direct effect of that rumored hormone in the turkey that makes everyone nap after Thanksgiving dinner. And if you know the name of that hormone, feel free to comment.
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Because searching Google for the answer is just too taxing for me right now.
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Here are some pictures to entertain you while I rest.
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This is Wade. Neighbor Susan's husband. He's watching the fryer heat up while reading The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire.

Oh, and he's drinking a fancy beer.

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*Note to Wade: Reading The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire and drinking fancy beer does not make frying a turkey Klassy. You're still frying a turkey, dude.

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Here's the bird just before the grease bath:

Oh, and I had a very important job involving this doo-hickey:

I dunno. Don't ask.

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And here's shot of Dave submerging our fowl friend.

Everyone seems a bit jumpy about the turkey frying device, huh?

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Oh! Lookie there! That's my doohickey!

And here's the little bird post-fry.
Isn't she lovely?

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Oh my, and the taste was divine.

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Also, we didn't burn the house down. Which is a real surprise for neighbor Susan. Apparently, she bought not one but TWO fire extinguishers in preparation for our meal this evening.

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Course, turns out one of the fires extinguishers was made for a boat. And Susan does not own a boat. And even if she did, I doubt very seriously she would ever fry a turkey on her boat.

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But just in case, by God, she's prepared.

There's No Such Thing as a Normal Five Year Old

Dave's Aunt, Uncle, and Grandmother came to visit this weekend.

We've been talking to William about our visitors all week. He can, with authority, point to Wyoming on a map and explain to anyone who will listen that Cheyenne is A Long Way Away.

William's excitement about visitors is something new. This is my child who, until very recently, would cling to my leg during introductions, only to disappear to his room to avoid any uncomfortable "talking". Heaven forbid he have to talk.

I don't know what happened, but now he simply cannot WAIT for someone new to come to our home. A new victim. A new person to be held captive by his dramatic "tour" of his new bunk beds and his various toys.

And last night was no exception.

Aunt Rita had barely made it over the threshold when William had taken her by the hand and demanded that she come upstairs immediately to see his room.

Uh, honey, our dinner is on the table. I'm sorry, but it's time to eat.

William was exasperated. He'd been waiting ALL WEEK for this!

But, we ate dinner.

And it was lovely. There was much baby snuggling.

And Grandma snuggling.

Oh, and more baby snuggling.

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But then this happened:

William flat INSISTED that he be allowed to don his entire Halloween costume for our guests.

(Note the lightsaber. That part is very important. When you're five)

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And it didn't stop there.

Then he dug out sissy's costume. Including the wig.

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Then he circled the room waving his light saber pretending to Fight Bad Guys.

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Oh my. It was a scene.

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I must say, Dave's relatives are such good sports.

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Truly.

Sweetness Overload

Well folks, prepare for a saccharine overload.

Are you ready?

You sure?

Ok, here goes:

Paige discovered her belly button today.

OMG. Can you even stand the cuteness? Don't you just want to bite her?

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Also, that picture makes me miss my own belly button. You know, my pre-pregnancy belly button.

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After two children, my belly button can hold a full cup of water. Also, it looks like it's frowning. Also, my entire belly looks like biscuit dough.

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Heh. Thinking of a biscuit dough belly really does effectively negate the sweetness overload of Paige, doesn't it?

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I did that for YOU. Yes I did. You are welcome very much.

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Speaking of sweetness overload, I introduced Paige to Craisins today.

Are you sure about this, momma?

Go for it, Sugarbean. You won't regret it.

And mommy was right.

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Paige consumed roughly 6,486 Craisins today.

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Then she broke out in a nasty rash. Then she started scratching her tongue.

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Then mommy called the pediatrician. She called the pediatrician and explained that her 15 month old baby had consumed 6,486 Craisins in the last hour.

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**silence**

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When she came around, the pediatrician told me to give Paige some Benadryl. She also told me not to feed a wee baby 6,486 Craisins ever again.

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Which, of course, I won't.

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But mainly because that would be impossible. Paige already ate all the Craisins in NW Oklahoma City.