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Hilary With One L

Hilary With One L

Hilary With One L

Hilary

recipes

Recipe Friday

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

I have been so out of touch with blogger lately. It’s not that there hasn’t been anything going on. There’s been LOTS going on; I just haven’t had a chance to sit down and write about it. We’ve had spring sports with LAX for Mo and soccer for Co.  I’ve been lining up summer camps, making vacation plans, hosting my in-laws for a long week-end, hitting the gym and the ‘bells,  and trying to figure out how I can get up to C-ville for a shoot, then boogie down to Chesapeake for Easter and my mother’s birthday, all without having the mother of all temper tantrums.  Yes, I have been known to turn into Rumplestiltskin when things don’t go my way. Shocking!

Add to that I’m coming into the homestretch of pregnancy #3 (9 weeks to go, but who’s counting) and I am ready to throw in the towel.  The aches, the pains, the fatigue, the return of the morning sickness (really?!) — stick a fork in me. I’m so done and ready to meet this bébé.

While I have been eating, I haven’t really been cooking. It’s been more of a daily lunch time pilgrimmage to Martin’s (the local grocery) or the Fresh Market for some Wing Dings, a salad and a slab of cake.  Yes, I’m bellying up to the trough with alarming regularity.  I do console myself with the fact that my biggest meal of the day comes in the middle of the day and pretty much carries me through until I go to bed. I get a “big salad” even Elaine would be jealous of, about 5 hot wings, and if I’m really lucky, a piece of black and white cake that is so good, I want to run down to my parents house, knock on the door and slap my mother in the face when she opens it. Then I’ll hand her a slice of cake that I’ll have brought with me as an olive branch.

When I’m not trying to work through dull throbs in my back, the cramps in my instep, and the over-all feeling of perpetually fullness that has taken over my body, I’ve been reading. Yes, I’ll admit it. I jumped on the bandwagon that is Fifty Shades of Grey.

Usually when a book comes out that everyone and their mother is talking about, I end up waiting until all the kerfluffle has died down before I picked it up. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, et al.? Didn’t crack that until the sixth book was released.  Twilight & Co.?  I think the first movie hit the theatres and a friend of mine gave me a shopping bag with all of the books in it with the following warning, “You won’t be able to stop reading.”  The Hunger Games?  My book club read it, but we mostly read wine labels, so that month, I read J. Lohr Seven Oaks Cabernet, Vouvray Loire Valley 2007, and Barefoot Pino Grigio.  When I did pick it up, my sweet, sweet hubs saw how I was burning through it and surprised me by bringing home the remainder of the trilogy as a just-because gift.  I’m real lucky like that. 
As for Fifty Shades, I kept seeing articles on various media outlets that I read describing this book as “mommy porn” – I term I find unflattering and kind of degrading — and women going as far as hiding their e-readers from prying eyes on the subway/carpool line/grocery checkout/doctor’s office, etc.  One woman wrote that she would take her book with her wherever she went and would pray for delays so she could have more time to read. One woman said that Fifty Shades improved her sex life (whoa). That the book is based on Twilight fan fiction gave me pause, but hey, didn’t I gobble up the Twilight series like a thirst deprived nomad finally reaching an oasis? So, I got the book and cracked it open after the kids had gone down for the night.
I want to say the book was good. I mean, I read it all in a matter of days and I’m anxious to see how this whole story is going to culminate as the trilogy progresses, but there were times when I wanted to take a red pen to the pages and do some editing.  Do I think I could have written this. Yeah, kind of.  It’s not complex the way you need a spreadsheet and a flow chart with the Game of Thrones series.  I don’t know anything about BDSM which pretty much dominates –heh heh – the plot; there would definitely be some research involved, but as far as character development goes and character names. . .ooof! let me at it.  
Was it sexy? In parts. Was it raunchy? In parts. Have I cast Hollywood celebs in my head for who I’d like to see when this comes to the big screen? Absolutely, though I’m sure who I picture won’t be who is cast, and that can be disappointing (Exhibit A: Katherine Heigl as Stephanie Plum in Janet Evanovitch’s One for the Money. It should have been someone- anyone- else).  Am I going to read the other two books? Duh. It’s like literary junk-food. I’m going to have read some Faulkner to exercise my brain back into shape. 
Fan-fic aside, there are other genres that I’ve been exploring.  On the non-fiction side of things,  I recently read was called MWF Seeks BFF by Rachel Bertsche.  In a nutshell, a young newlywed moves to Chicago with her hubs and realizes she’s lonely. She set out to make some new friends by going on 52 girl-dates, one a week for an entire year. She reaches out to people by email, telephone, want ad (seriously), rent-a-friend (who knew that existed), blind date type set ups, and so forth.  It’s candid, it’s funny and totally relatable. It begs the question, why is it so difficult to make friends as an adult? Ultimately, the author’s definition of a BFF evolves and through her experience the read can gain some insight as to how to cultivate and maintain new and existing friendships.  I’ve taken some lessons from the book for sure and find myself actively pursuing female friendships.  It’s kind of like dating, which was never really my strong suit (I hit the jackpot with the hubby), but it’s important to have girlfriends.  Especially when there are books like Fifty Shades to discuss! 
Anyway, I really want to get back into the swing of the blogging thing since I do like to write. Of course, once Amazon mails me books two and three of the trilogy, there may be some radio silence for a bit.   And if you read the book (either book, actually) and want to discuss, girlfriend to girlfriend, let me know! 
Happy Friday, y’all, and Happy Easter!  Here’s a springtime recipe that’s sure to please (you know me and my love of the cupcake tin!)
Mini Chicken Pot Pie
From Quick-Dish.Com

Ingredients

  • 1 chicken breast, poached and diced
  • 1 (14.5 oz) can cream of chicken soup
  • 1 cup frozen mixed veggies
  • 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
  • 1 Tbs Herbs De Provence
  • 1 tsp onion powder
  • 1 tsp garlic salt
  • 2 (10 oz) cans Pillsbury biscuits













Directions

  1. 1Preheat your oven to 400.
  2. 2In a large bowl, combine the cooked chicken, cream of chicken soup, frozen veggies, cheese, herbs and spices.
  3. 3Lightly grease a 12-cup muffin tin and place the Pillsbury biscuits into each cup, pressing into the bottom and up the sides.
  4. 4Evenly spoon the pot pie mixture into each biscuit cup. Slide into the oven and bake for about 15 minutes. Check at the 12 minute mark.
  5. 5Let rest for about 3 minutes and dig in!

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IN: recipes ON: April 5, 2012 TAGS: baking, books, cooking, food, om nom nom, pinterest, recipes BY: Hilary
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The Opposite of Yes

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I say “no” quite a bit.


I mean, a lot.


Like, I say “no” like a Valley girl says “like”.  Oy!


I say it more than I’d like to, really, but sometimes, it just has to be done.  I don’t think I’ll ever be the kind of parent who let’s their kids have a free-for-all for a day when all she says is “yes”.  I tried that once and by the time the breakfast dishes had been cleared and put away, I had developed a nervous tic in my eye and was in serious need of some anti-hypertensives.


It’s not that I’m trying to be the next Mommie Dearest. I just like to have things a certain way. I want my children to behave a certain way, which basically boils down to acting like civilized human beings who have some semblance of home training. 


I toss out the word “no” like Tic Tacs.  I’m not afraid to be embarassed in a public place.  I’ve been that mom, the one whose kids are crying in hysterically in the shopping cart because they’ve just been told they can’t have Frosted Fruity Lucky Pebbly Charms with the toy surprise inside. But of course, to Mr. and Mrs. Public, they just me pushing the cart while my kids are red-faced, snot-nosed misfits in need of a parent with a firm hand and no fear of setting boundaries.  I want to say, “Look lady, two aisles ago, it was all peace, love, and rainbows.  They wanted the cereal, I said ‘Not today,’ and all hell broke loose.”  It wasn’t like I was doing a Rumplestiltskin impression in the paper products aisle shouting, “No, no, no, no!” all the while.  I will admit, though, there are times when I wonder how that would go over instead of my even toned negative response and attempts to redirect the conversation.  I have to believe that if I went all Rumplestiltskin, they’d snap to real quick. 


In an ideal world, I’m the adult, what I say goes. I make the rules and they get followed. I’m the big cheese, you know, all of those parental adages that all equate to the same thing — “Because I said so,” and it’s all firmly ensconced in their wee little brains causing them to tow the party line. 


I say “no” when I’m trying to prevent my children from coming to bodily harm. I say “no” when I’m trying to keep them from turning into zombies after they’ve already watched an hour (cough::two::cough) of tv and are begging for more. I say “no” when they’re trying to wear shorts and tank tops when the temperature is calling for 50 degrees and fog, despite the fact that it is indeed spring.   I say “no” because I’m doing it for their own good. 


Oy, I went there. 


The thing is, though, I don’t like saying “no”.  It’s so negative. I’m afraid all of the girls’ childhood memories will be of me like some kind of suburban Kali, each of my eight arms wielding some kind of time sucking device (iPhone, Mac Book, a copy of “Fifty Shades of Grey”, a kettle bell), and a big, fat cartoon bubble with the word “NO” floating out of my mouth.  I can’t have that on my conscience.


So, I’m trying to  avoid using “no” and contractions like “don’t,” “can’t”, “won’t” and the like.  Believe me, this is not easy, so hard.  A self imposed no-ratorium!  If I have to put the kibosh on something like why we have to eat the dinner I’ve made instead of having sushi (for Mo), Kelly’s Tavern (for Co), and Chipotle (thanks, DH), I’m trying to say things like, “Maybe next time,” or “Let me think about it.”  I call it purposeful vagueness and have added a few other gems to this collection


1. “How about in a few minutes?”
2. “Maybe in a little while.”
3. “As soon as I’m done here, we’ll talk about it.”
4. “I’ll see what I can do.”
5. “That might be a possibility.”


Ka-ching!  The girls get an answer which isn’t negative, and I get to feel as though I’m back in the running for Mother of the Year while maintaining that false sense of hope that I really am running this show.


Of course, there are times when a firm “No.” is necessary.  For instance, if the girls ask me if they can hanglide off the roof using wire-hangers, double sided tape, and a pair of DH’s underpants, “Let me think about it,” may give them some false hope. In that case, I don’t feel as bad dishing out a steaming plate of “No,” in order to shut the door on that foolishness. 


Although, I might like to see that innovation in action. . .

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IN: ON: March 28, 2012 TAGS: my girls, nerves, sharing BY: Hilary
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My New Obsession

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I don’t know if I should thank him, or if I should shank him, but either way, my brother is to blame. He told me about this show and as a result,  I’ve lost days – days, people! I’ve been sucked up into Hulu, watching this show about five British 20-something juvenile offenders who acquire super powers after being caught in a freaky hail storm.  Remember that show “Heroes” on NBC? It’s kind of like that but scad better, what with the accents and just the ordinariness of the characters.  Each of them has some kind of hang-up, none of them are trying to solve the world’s problems. They’re just trying to make it to the end of their community service requirement.

Oh, how I love Misfits.

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IN: ON: March 27, 2012 TAGS: me time, random, spring BY: Hilary
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recipes

Recipe Friday

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I don’t know if I can classify this as a win since I didn’t eat it, but it’s not entirely a fail since everyone else ate it without complaint.  When I first saw the recipe in my People magazine, I was really drawn to the idea of making stuff in a cupcake tin.  Mini meatloaves! In a cupcake tin! How cute!  Then I read the recipe and saw that it called for not only ground turkey (bleh), but also shredded broccoli coleslaw to be folded into the mix (insert head scratching).  Still, I hitched up my apron and decided that a true chef has to be willing to try new things.  Just because my palate hasn’t progressed past PB & J or a burger and fries doesn’t mean something good can’t come of this.

I assembled my ingredients, though there was a fleeting moment at the butcher counter where I almost caved and bough ground beef instead of ground turkey.  I whipped out my handy-dandy Pampered Chef Food chopper and it several satisfying whacks to get my broccoli slaw nice and fine.  I dumped everything into the mixing bowl and proceeded to thoroughly acquaint the turkey with the onion, ketchup, oats and spices.  Because I do love a kitchen gadget, I tried filling the cupcake wells with my cookie baller, but unfortunately, that didn’t work.  The baller is meant for cookies, not meatloaf mix, so I did it by hand. The recipe said you’ll end up with about 9 meatballs. Mine were pretty substantial, about lacrosse ball size, and I still ended up with 12.  I have to admit, the raw turkey, despite being colored by the ketchup and the confetti-esque nature of the broccoli slaw, was pretty unappealing. I was kicking myself not getting beef, even as I slathered the tops of each loaf with ketchup.   With all my prep done, I put the pan in the fridge and went about the rest of my day.

Let me tell you, there is a lot to be said for proper prior planning.  I can’t even begin to describe the whirlwind of activity that made up the rest of the daylight hours, but it was a sweet relief to just pre-heat the oven and throw that pan in there for 30 minutes.  I had some minute rice ready to go and while I did steam up some broccolini for a side, I almost didn’t seeing as there was a hefty amount of greens in the loaves themselves.

As it happens when I make dinner, by the time everything was ready — table set, drinks poured, napkins in the laps — turkey and veggie meatloaf minis were the absolute last thing I wanted to eat.  So, while the hubs and the girls tucked into dinner, I sat back and admired my handiwork.  Sure, the girls didn’t ask for seconds, but I didn’t have to say, “Co, eat your dinner. Co, eat your dinner. Co, eat your dinner,” for the duration of the meal.  As a matter of fact, after her first bite, her eyes widened, she flashed me a thumbs up and said, “Mmmf mf meemee gmmf” (This is really good).  As for Mo, she may have played with it a little bit, but it gotten eaten. She’s more of a rice and broccolini girl.  Even with the big reveal that I made dinner in a cupcake tin, it wasn’t enough to have them fill their bellies, pockets, or other hidey holes with extra dinner.

I think the allure of cooking in a cupcake tin is what is going to keep this recipe in my arsenal (after I sub out the turkey for beef and maybe replace broccoli slaw with chopped green pepper).  There are tons more recipes out there that you can make using non-traditional cooking elements.  I have done lasagna in the cupcake tin and I really want to do breakfast cups (toast, egg, bacon).

Mmmm. . .bacon. . .

Happy Friday, y’all!

Turkey and Veggie Meatloaf Minis

 (courtesy of Hungry Girl via Cooking Channel)

INGREDIENTS

  • 1 small onion
  • 1 1/4 pounds raw lean ground turkey
  • 3 cups bagged dry broccoli cole slaw, roughly chopped
  • 1/2 cup quick-cooking oats
  • 2 teaspoons garlic powder
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup fat-free liquid egg substitute
  • 1/4 cup, plus 3 tablespoons







DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Using a box grater, grate the onion into a large bowl. Add turkey, broccoli cole slaw, oats, garlic powder, salt, egg substitute, and 1/4 cup ketchup. Stir until thoroughly mixed.

Line 9 cups of a 12-cup muffin pan with baking cups and/or spray with nonstick spray. Evenly distribute turkey-veggie mixture among the muffin cups, and top each with 1 teaspoon ketchup.

Bake in the oven until firm with lightly browned edges, 30 to 35 minutes. Let stand for 5 minutes before serving. Enjoy!

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IN: recipes ON: March 16, 2012 TAGS: baking, cooking, food, om nom nom, pinterest, recipes BY: Hilary
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Hurts So Good

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by the way, I am such a sucker for packaging.
I  love, love, love this
and almost clotheslined the whole
 first aid line into my purse when I saw it at Target.

Oh and it is a mother!  Right where my index finger meets my palm, and it’s as big and bulbous as a hot air balloon.  I feel like if I were to make a fist, the whole thing would explode like the blister on the guy’s foot in “Run, Fat Boy, Run.”

Hilarious scene, but not for the faint of stomach.  You go watch, I’ll wait. . .

Yeah, the blister on my hand feels like that, but really, it’s no bigger than the head of a pencil eraser.  It’s not like I’ve been chopping wood or clearing weeds or any other manner of yard work.

I’ve been practicing kettlebells twice, a week every week, since August. It’s awesome and I always feel “strong like ox” whenever I’m done.  My muscles are getting stronger, I’m getting a good cardio boost, but my hands have taken a serious beating.  My palms are so calloused, my callouses have callouses.  I haven’t gone as far as taking a nail file to them, but the temptation is there.

I’ve tried taping them, bandaging them, chalking up and wearing gloves.  Nothing’s worked.   I’ve tried to switch up my routine so that my hands don’t get a constant thrashing every time I go.  I’ve been doing all manner of squats, swings, and lifts, and the callouses kept on coming.  The blisters joined the party after I added another piece to my bank of RKC moves:  the high pull.  There is nothing quite as exhilarating as swinging 25 lbs. of weight up in the air and then pulling it back towards your face as if you were doing a one-handed lat pull.  Yes, I know exactly how crazy that sounds.

I was trying to explain kettlebells to my mother and as soon as I said the words “swinging” and “weights”, I could read the worry on her face as if she’s written it there with a sharpie.

“But what if you drop it on your foot?” she asked, clearly trying to find a dissuade me from throwing around heavy, metal objects.

“Have you seen my feet? That would totally be an improvement.”

She was not amused.

In any event, I’m going to keeping swinging my bells, and proudly wear my callouses and blisters. I just have to remember to be careful when I try to give the girls some lovin’ that involves my hands on their faces.

“Ouch, Mommy!” Mo said after I patted her on the cheek, “Your hands feel like Daddy’s feet!”

Ouch, indeed.

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IN: ON: March 14, 2012 TAGS: my girls, sharing, working out BY: Hilary
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recipes

Recipe Friday

Cinnamon Roll Waffles

 

and 

Waffle Iron Fries
equals
One happy Hilary
This is a two-fer because I just can’t decide what to do first? Sweet or savory? I may do both and throw in a side of bacon for what will certainly be a pearl-clutching, swoon-inducing good breakfast. 
I haven’t really cooked much this week for reasons that aren’t super surprising. Topping the list is the fact that the girl had some serious 24-hour stomach bugs, first Co on Monday, then Mo on Wednesday. Nothing kills an appetite faster than vomit. And I don’t care how long you’ve been a parent, how many kids you have, or if you have a cast iron stomach.  Vomit is vomit and anyones vomit (yours, hers, mine) makes me want to vomit.  So, that being said, two days this week, this was a strictly tea and toast operation. 
My parents were in town this week for an extended visit, and while my dad and I work well together in the kitchen, we spent most of our time pouring over take-out menus.  I think I ate out twice for lunch and twice for dinner — in the same week! So this is how the other half lives 🙂
My dear hubs has been working hard, been traveling here and there for work, which also means, no need to fire up the stove if he’s not going to be around to enjoy my culinary prowess.  The girls want PB&J for dinner? No problem.  As for me? I usually tie it on a lunch time so by the time dinner rolls around, I’m still full.  
Anyway, like I said, my parents were in town. The girls and I were over at their new place, watching my dad put away all the dishes and accoutrements they brought like some kind of home decorating whirling dervish, when I spotted his waffle iron.  Let me back up for a second. . .my parents, in their infinite generosity and love for me their grandchildren, got themselves a little pied-a-terre near us, just in time for Trip’s arrival.  They were getting their place together and the whole time, I was marveling at how, or more like why, my dad had enough stuff already to furnish this place. He didn’t go out an buy anything new; he just looked in closets and cabinets of their house and packed up some rubbermaid tubs full of housewares. Note to self: when in need of additional kitchen essentials, go to Mom and Dad’s first, then HomeGoods. If I find an upright Kitchen Aid Mixer in their butler’s pantry. . . 
So, the waffle iron came out and I immediately remembered seeing the recipes for the fries and the waffles on Pinterest.  I love me some potatoes and recently, I’ve been craving some cinnamon ooey-gooey goodness.  I got rid of my waffle iron a while ago because — I wasn’t making any waffles.  The girls just weren’t really into it unless it came from a yellow box with Eggo emblazoned on the side.  My hubs was always on a low carb/no carb/no bread/no white flour/nothing-fun-to-eat-ever-again eating plan.  Waffles can be laborious, so my iron got pitched.  But now? Woooo!  Dad’s extra waffle iron can rent some space in my cabinet while I work on these recipes.  
I looked them both over and seeing as I don’t have a mouli for the fry recipe, I’m going with the cinnamon waffle one first. Don’t worry, a mouli shall be mine (I bet I could find one at my parents house!) and shortly thereafter, there shall be fries! These would be awesome brunch menu items, too, don’t you think? Happy Friday, y’all!

Waffled Cinnamon Rolls (courtesy of A Hen’s Nest)

Ingredients
1. Can of refrigerated cinnamon rolls
Directions
Heat up your waffle maker and grease it with a bit of non-stick spray. Separate your rolls then place them into a belgian waffle maker. Close the lid and press down slightly.
Set the timer for 2 1/2 – 3 minutes.
Remove from Waffle iron and place on a warmed plate. Repeat.
Once they are all done, pile them on a platter and drizzle the included icing pack over top.
Serve warm.

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IN: recipes ON: March 9, 2012 TAGS: baking, cooking, food, om nom nom, pinterest, recipes BY: Hilary
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recipes

Make-Up Monday

Wow. I really didn’t anticipate the volume of work that I would have to get through last week.  Aside from the little pop-in to let you know that I was going to be busy, I haven’t even thought about my little corner of the blogosphere until now.  Shame on me!

It’s good be writing, though, especially today.  It’s only 9:45 and I’ve been putting out fires right, left, and sideways.  Mo is on spring break this week, and much to her dismay, we are keeping it close to home. As in, we’re staying home.  She’s only six and yet, she was completely crushed that we weren’t going to Disney, Cancun (her words) or some other vacation destination for spring break.  Um, weren’t you just off from school for Christmas? Isn’t summer vacation coming right at us? You’ll survive a week at home with mom. Besides, Co does indeed have school. Kind of tricky trying to do it up vacation style when your sister still has her regular 8:30 to 3pm schedule.

I figured that Mo and I would just take it easy this week. Trips to the Y, Target, the movies to see “The Lorax”, maybe get our hair or our nails done, stuff like that.  Too bad for Mo-dizzle, she came down with a sore throat and runny nose over the week-end. At least she’s on break. She could have a sick day or two of movies at home, while I futzed around doing this and that.  Cut to this morning at 6am.  I’m trying to find the inclement weather policy for Co’s school as big, wet snowflakes fell from the sky and adhered to the bushes.  Mo comes down says, “Um, so I went to wake up Co to tell her that it was snowing? And there’s this brown, smelly stuff in her bed?”

Ugh. Brown, smelly stuff? I’m not ready.

Mo and I head upstairs to survey the scene, and poor Co-biscuit. She was dead asleep in. . .well, let’s just say she got sick in night. . .all.over.the.bed.and.the.wall.  THE WALL! I’ve never seen anything like it.  And I effectively pulled myself out of the running for Mother of the Year by uttering that warm and fuzzy term of endearment all sick kids want to hear, “HOLY CRAP!”  Yes, I’m breaking my arm patting myself on the back here.

Fast forward to several loads of laundry, a garbage bag filled with soiled bed clothes, one 4 year old in the tub, one 6 year old in the middle of the foray complaining of the smell (thanks, Mo), and me, marveling at how when my kids do something, they do it big (it was on the wall!).

I never did find the inclement weather policy for Co’s school, but it really didn’t matter in the end.  I got both of the girls cleaned up, bundled up in sweats and fleece blankets and parked them on the couch.

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I completely turned into my mom and served them tea and dry toast.  When I heard myself say, “I don’t care that it tastes bad. You have to keep that down before you have anything else,” — oof! I knew had officially become my mother.

A movie was fired up on the TV and some soup roiled and boiled on the stove.  I think I made myself a cup of coffee somewhere in there, but I don’t remember where I put it.  When I find it, I’m sure it’ll be far from hot, but no matter; I like iced coffee, too.

I was going to put in my recipe from Friday, but 1) I didn’t make anything of note this week and 2) after all the scraping, Goof Off! spraying, and bleaching that went on, including a recipe in this post – no matter how delicious — just didn’t seem like a good idea.

I’m off to find my coffee, grab my stack of unread magazines and try to steal a few quiet moments for me, myself and I before the next round of “Mom, can I have. . .” starts up again.  I’m sure both of the girls will be on the mend sooner rather than later.  I just walked through the kitchen to see them, their hands and faces pressed against the window looking at the falling snow.

“Ooooh,” said Mo to her sister, “Look at all that snow! After we drink our tea, let’s put on our snowpants and go outside!”

Coughs, sniffles, upset tummies. . .how quickly they’re forgotten in favor of a few flakes.

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IN: recipes ON: March 5, 2012 TAGS: baking, cooking, food, my girls, om nom nom, recipes, winter BY: Hilary
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Hilary With One L

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