Enough about the Chile Rellenos

"We've run out of chile rellenos for the day."

I say this a lot. I say it because I have to - certainly not because I want to. This particular dish is really labor intensive and really delicious. This means that we don't make a lot, they're popular and we run out on nearly a daily basis.

I'm going to announce a restaurant industry insider secret: servers/bartenders do not control the kitchen. We have no investment in whether a certain menu item is available or not. We don't like having to tell people that we are out of any item because it draws us into two annoying scenarios.

Annoying guest option #1:

Complain loudly and over-dramatically about the restaurant being out of chile rellenos. Act like this is a life threatening situation and you're beyond devastated. Blame the server and pout for at least ten minutes. Consult the owners as if you believe there is some elaborate conspiracy to keep you from your beloved chile rellenos. Then punish your server even further by leaving a terrible tip - as if this was a personal affront to you.

Annoying option #2:

Make a stupid joke that you are "going to get up and leave", thus making your server pretend that s/he hasn't heard the joke ten thousand times before. It's not original.

It's very rare that I encounter a normal person who can just say "okay" and move on without either acting like a huge baby or trying to make a bad joke about it.

And since I'm ranting, what is it with customers who obsess about the television when they are out to eat? People sometimes refuse tables because they won't have a good view of Sports Center. God forbid you socialize with your family and stop staring at the same highlights for one hour! And other people will literally flag you down (while you are carrying 10 drinks or someone else's food) to ask that you change the channel. If I'm busy - my last concern is making sure you can stare at the tv screen.

Toddlers and Tutus

I swear I'm not a pageant Mom. Really. Anyone looking at this rehearsal video could say that it's pointless and silly and I shouldn't be pushing Ayla into dance if she doesn't like it. But up until a few weeks ago, I thought she did!

She has gotten very strange lately about attending any sort of class. Gregory has taken her to dance class consistently and she always rants and raves about not wanting to go, fights it like hell and then comes out an hour later smiling and happy. It doesn't make any sense. We've also been attending the library story time and it used to be a happy 45 minutes singing songs and listening to stories. She even coaxed other hesitant children to come in the room. But my last attempt to take her ending in screaming and many, many tears - and this was with the FUN librarian!

Just check out today's experience at the rehearsal:




So - needless to say, I've been anxious about her upcoming dance recital this weekend. I have serious doubts that she will do anything while on the stage. I just want her to have a good time! I'm not smearing on the lipstick or sending her to the tanning salon. However, I did buy her the ridiculously pouffy and cute tutu to fit the occasion.

I won't be angry with her if she doesn't dance or even look at the audience. (I won't have a pageant mom temper tantrum, for sure.) But I will continue to be perplexed as to why she is extremely outgoing one minute and then tucking into a virtual turtle shell the next.

Can Composting be considered a Hobby?

I've been doing this all wrong!

For the past couple of years, we've had a corner of the yard set aside as the compost area. Gregory put up chicken wire & burlap to contain the mess and it's been the place to throw any compost items. It's done the job, but I really wasn't doing it justice. Because the area was about 15 feet long and 2 feet deep, completely uncovered - it was virtually impossible to turn the soil and create wonderful fertilizer for the yard. We've dug out rocks and attacked the dirt pile with many different spiky garden tools.

The big plus is that we've had a space to throw all of those leftover food items, weeds, grass cuttings, coffee filters, etc. It's just in my yard and not a landfill. It doesn't break down at the rate it should and it's very difficult to access the good soil buried underneath everything.

It was time for an upgrade. I've been drooling over all sorts of composters in gardening catalogs and trying to rationalize spending upwards of $150. (This is my type of splurge - forget shoes and handbags.) Luckily, I found my dreamboat composter at Construction Junction last week. And it didn't cost even close to that much money.

Hello Mr. Earth Machine. It's truly a pleasure. He is now sitting in a corner of the yard, inconspicuously baking all of the dirt and vegetable scraps that will make my garden amazing. I was so excited to set it up and start loading in all that I could find. Dryer lint from the basement, lemon/lime rinds cut at work, all the stuff I've let get moldy in the vegetable drawers in the refrigerator. It all now has a place to go!

I am still a person impressed with simplicity. At this point, if it makes my life just a miniscule amount easier - it's a thrill. Which will lead into my next post about the new fence. Small miracles, seriously!

I just can't win

I need to stop measuring my daily "success" as a parent based on my childrens opinions. It is a steep and very slippery slope. For example...

We've recently joined the YMCA because it's time to start getting involved in camps, preschool sports and swimming lessons. I'm sure I'll also take advantage of the free babysitting so I can work out too. I was super-excited to take Ayla swimming the other day. I bought goggles so we could play underwater and we trekked out to the warm water pool. We play and giggle and splash for about an hour, until it's finally time to go home. Huge temper tantrum. Then, later, I'm reminding her what a good time we had swimming together.

Ms. Debbie Downer replied, "But I didn't have fun when we were leaving!"

Yeah, I remember.

And in celebration of Jackson's 2nd birthday, I bought him a used tricycle on Craigslist. It is faded from the sun and missing some of the stickers, but these shortcomings are balanced out with all of the cool buttons that make revving sounds and play music. There have already been violent fights between Ayla and Jackson over HIS bike. I was trying to talk up Ayla's birthday and that we could get her a "big girl" bike with training wheels.

She says, "I don't want a big girl bike, I want a little boy bike."

Of course.

I know that deep down they enjoy the little things we try to do for them. ALL of this is to be expected, yet it always catches me by surprise. It's just like the constant effort to keep the house clean and the foolishness of making them dinner from scratch when all they desire is Ramen noodles. If I use their reactions as a litmus test, I really won't ever win.

Strawberries, Fences and a Mile of Mint

Although I'm a bit hindered by sore legs and an ever-growing stomach, I'm back to obsessing about our garden and landscaping! This year, I am trying to take advantage of every corner without tearing up ALL of the grass. I need to make some major purchases: a rain barrel, tumbling composter, a locking gate (not only for runaway Baxter, but runaway children as well). If I can just find a place for a zucchini plant and the cucumber seedlings - I will be a satisfied gardener.

This is a photo of the original section designated to vegetables, fruits and herbs. After three rookie summers of gardening, I finally figured out how to plant items that grow back virtually maintenance free. The entire left half is a strawberry patch that keeps expanding. On the right is my trusty chives - where Ayla helps herself to a snack every day. She might smell like green onions, but she loves them! Blackberries and raspberries grow up two trellises and sugar snap peas will wind their way up the final trellis.


This is the area I extended into last year... a couple Clematis vines, an evergreen and a few herbs. I'm hoping to make room for broccoli and a cucumber trellis. Big dreams, I know! The mint in the back started out as a sickly looking transplant from my friend Erin's yard - and now threatens the neighboring plants daily. I've unwound mint stalks from the thyme several times already this year. Luckily, it doesn't go to waste. I simply un-root a big chunk of mint once a week and take it over to work. Fresh mojitos, anyone?


And this beautiful wheelbarrow was my Mother's Day gift. Finally a place to put my gloves, shovels, potting soil and planters! It will make me a much more efficient "farmer" - with a proper place to throw weeds and keep seedlings safe from the psycho dog.


And I can't leave out a picture of Ayla enjoying the first strawberries! They taste entirely different from any strawberry I've ever purchased in a store. We rationed out a few at breakfast the other morning, but the true harvest is coming soon!

If you've thought of it, it already exists

I was JUST saying that I needed maternity suspenders the other day. Although maternity clothes can be amazingly comfortable - it's rare to find a pair of pants that fit you the entire way through. Even if you are buying the normal size you are used to, it is still difficult to keep an all-elastic waistband in place. When I'm at work or at home - lifting kids, picking up toys, reaching for things on the top shelf... the pants either sag or pull up too high on one side. I thought it was a good idea to look into maternity suspenders.

I was kidding, of course.

This company WASN'T kidding.

Has anyone seen these before? And more importantly, is anyone going to admit to wearing them? Because as dumb as they look, I'm wondering if the benefit might outweigh the risk. Is this like the old man sock suspenders?

Occupado

Why is it that when you are in a locked public restroom, women can't figure out why it's locked? (I'm sure this might be the case with the men's room... but I'll have to take someone else's word for it.) Every time I use a single-person public bathroom, meaning that the outer door locks and there aren't any stalls, some woman always come barging up to the door and continually tries to get in the entire time I am in there.

First, they push on the door - when it's resisted by the lock, they violently shake the handle, then knock, then push again. By this point, I am so unnerved and have already yelled that "DUH! Someone is in here!" that I am flushing the toilet and running the water in the sink to really make it obvious that the bathroom is, indeed, occupied. Yet, they still knock and try to jiggle the handle.

I don't get it. I locked the door with the intent of keeping everyone else out. Don't try to break down the door! And always, as I come out of the bathroom, it is a grown woman standing there saying, "Oh! I didn't know someone was in there?!?". Someone who should know better, not a helpless 8 year old girl who waited until she was about to pee herself to run to the bathroom.

Thank goodness I at least lock the door - I don't think I could survive the humiliation of having the door swung open on me every time I use a public restroom.