Stupidity

Want to hear something stupid?

It is nap time and I've planned to make zucchini bread for this weekend's journey to see the in-laws. (Don't you think that'll earn me a few daughter-in-law points?) Since I am a fabulously amazing daughter-in-law, I've decided to double the recipe so we will have 4 delectable loaves to snarf down. Some will have chocolate chips, some will not. (In all honesty, I plan to wrap up 2 loaves tightly in my freezer so I will have some all to myself when I come home. Selfish?...Maybe. Smart?..OH, YES!)

I have my trusty-dusty recipe from when I was in 4-H. I'm thinking this copy may date back to 4th grade. Maybe 3rd.

Don't laugh, my friends. It's important to remember where you came from. :)

My sugar and eggs are creamed. My zucchini is chopped and ready to go in.



Guess what I don't have enough of?

Oil. I only have 3/4 of a cup.

Not enough for a double recipe! Not enough for one recipe! Rats! >:/

I decided the smart thing to do was to knock on the neighbor's door. Guess who's not answering. Then I decided to call my friend Vicky and try to guilt her into bringing me over some oil. Guess who didn't answer her phone. (It's really hard to lay on a guilt trip via voicemail.) Then I decided to call Aaron and see if he can deliver me some. Guess who's out of town.

Man! Can't a girl catch a break?!

So now my fridge is full of a half-made bowl of zucchini bread dough...or slop. (It doesn't really look like dough.) And I am frustratingly patiently awaiting Ollie's awakening so we can go to the store (where I was YESTERDAY) to buy oil.

See what I mean? Stupid. Friends, don't be stupid. Make sure you have ALL of your ingredients to make yourself look like a fabulous daughter-in-law BEFORE you start cooking. *sigh*

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!

It started off as a typical evening. Ollie was in bed. Aaron and I, lazy sloths that we are, were relaxing on the couch watching TV.

Everything was going fine when Aaron starting yelling some choice words too inappropriate for Mama Mary's blog. It was a BAT!!! I think it looked like this:


Ok, ok...maybe it didn't look exactly like that. I was a little preoccupied trying not to scream like a pansy girl while I pulled my t-shirt over my head and ducked behind this love seat.

Hey, I didn't claim to be "Mary, Bat Hunter." Aaron says I am apparently "Mary, Bat Wimp." :(

Aaron My hero knew how to use a professional's tools and trapped Mr. Vicious Bat against the fireplace like this: (**Please note** these photos were re-enacted for your viewing pleasure as I was too busy hiding inside my t-shirt behind the love seat to take pictures.)

In real life he stood on a chair. And he did look a little scared. (No matter what he claims.)

Then the sneaky bat escaped! It flew out of the bucket professional's tools and I found myself ducking behind the love seat again. The next few minutes are a bit questionable as my t-shirt is blue and I can't see much through it.

Apparently the bat flew over to the window next. Aaron Indiana Jones caught him kinda like this:

Guinea Pig gets a big ol' F for her hunting dog skills tonight. Her only movements were the same moves she uses trying to catch flies around the house.

The bat was released into the wild. *sigh* Dumb bat.

Be Awesome Today!

Sometimes I get excited about dorky things...like this:

My new artwork finally came! Hooray! I put it in the kitchen...in case I need a reminder. :) I found it here.

I'm also pretty pumped about this:

I got it here. It's going to go in our entry...after we are done painting that is. *sigh* The painting! 
Sooo...the de-wallpapering is done but the painting process is going rather slowly. Uncle Todd and Aunt Sarah (my sister) had a teeny tiny visitor this weekend so Mr. Mary Aaron and I could finish de-wallpapering and paint without any distractions. It was only the 2nd time in Ollie's entire life that he's slept away from Mama and Daddy...so you'd think we would have planned a more romantic evening. If you count sweating our rears off working, driving through Wendy's, and making a 9:30 PM Wal-Mart run because we realized we threw away our roller during our last painting endeavor "romantic," then it was an epic "Gone With the Wind" evening...or not. The worst part about painting your ceilings is that NO ONE comes in to your house and says, "Wow! What beautiful white ceilings you have!"

Although Aaron would probably say the worst part about painting your ceilings is that paint gets on your bare head in your hair.

I'm sure he'll be very pleased I chose to post this picture. :) Love him!



I mean, sheesh, can you even tell we painted the darn ceilings?! Good thing I posted that picture of Aaron as proof, right? ;)

I am...

supposed to be de-wallpapering today. This is as far as I've gotten.

Isn't that green flowery paper beautiful?? In case you're one of those fancy new-home owners and aren't accustomed to looking at homes built in 1912, that weird looking discolored part on the right of the screen is plasterboard. Neat, huh? This used to be a stairway that went down into our kitchen and sometime in the last 98 years was boarded up.

I don't know about you, but I feel as though wallpaper must have been invented by small naughty children. It probably went something like this:

Naughty child #1: "Let's take this glue stick and glue our artwork to the wall. That'll make Mom REALLY mad!"

Naughty child #2: "Great idea! I'll grab the glue sticks!"

Maybe I've been teaching naughty children too long...

I did do the little teeny tiny place that I thought would be harder than it actually was.

Don't mind our stairs that need to be refinished. (They used to have some pretty carpet on them. (That's what I like to call sarcasm, my friends.))

Ollie is napping right now and running a temp so I'm not sure what to do next. My heavy eyelids say, "Nap." I imagine Aaron would say, "Do whatever you please dear. You should probably order a pizza and I'll send a massage therapist over to the house to rub your shoulders while I remove the remainder of the wallpaper." That sounds like something he'd say...don't you think?

Problem: I need to retrieve the ol' ladder from the garage and drag it up a bajillion 12 stairs. Then I need to balance it carefully on this little landing.

That probably wouldn't be sooo hard. But then I'll have to turn the ol' ladder around and do the ceiling. Yes, they put wallpaper on the ceiling above the stairs. *sigh*

You know you've done quality work when it bubbles.

And, yes, you are seeing correctly. Our ceiling in the stairway is painted a nice dingy off-white.
Again, maybe that wouldn't be sooo hard, but this all must be done in silence. There is a 15 month teething, feverish baby sleeping 7 stairs away.

I've asked Guinea Pig for advice, but she seems less than interested. She spent her morning reading and is now "resting her eyes."

Perhaps I will join her for a short siesta. :)

Home home

This weekend we went home. Well, that is, we went to my parents' house, which is home. You know how your home is your home, but your home home is your home? You know...the place where you grew up?

The place where your dad made a tire swing just for you because you would NOT stop begging until he did.

The place where you handed your sister the cat named Georgia just as it started to have explosive diarrhea and the mere thought of it alone is enough to make you laugh so hard tears start streaming down your face.

The place where you climbed up the ladder on the bin just to see how high you could go before you got scared.

The place with the tree that used to be HUGE and you used to practice throwing softballs at.

The place with the little creepy shed that holds your dad's oil and stuff that you helped re-roof one summer.

You know, your home home.

I love being home home.

There are no annoying neighbors whose houses are waaaay too close to yours. There are no bright lights illuminating every other foot of the yard. And there are two fabulous people living there who come out the front door to meet you at your car. :)

There's your home home and there's corn.

LOTS of corn.

Guinea Pig, being a city dog, isn't quite sure what to make of things when she comes home home.

"What's this?" she asks.

"And this?"

"And do these people not own a lawn mower?"

"I would, however, like to frolic over there towards those large thingy-things."

Maybe someday she'll get to discover what living out of the city feels like. How much more open and full it can make you feel. Until that day, however, she will just have to enjoy every minute we spend at our home home.

Guinea Pig...the dog

Meet the laziest (although sometimes that's debatable) member of the household.

This is Guinea Pig. We adopted her in the midst of the arctic Iowa winter of 2009. Aaron had to have a puppy so we ventured out to look at a few. Look is the key word there. What do you think happened when we entered a room full of shar pei/ black lab puppies? We left with puppy in tow and not a scrap of food or supplies for the itsy bitsy puppy at home. A bajillion dollars later we had all of the essentials to raising a dog. On the trip home she fell asleep in my arms and began snoring. I said, "Wouldn't it be funny if we named her Pig since she snores like a pig?" Hence the name "Guinea Pig." (Her name at the shelter was "Blossom." She's soooo not a "Blossom.")

Most days Guinea spends her days traveling between a few spots.

The love seat. (This is her spot. My apologies if you visit our house and Guinea seems to appear rude. My guess would be that you are sitting in her spot.)

The floor vent. A nice spot to cool off one's belly after a long walk.

And the picture window. Guinea refused to pose for this picture today so, instead, I have documented evidence of her slobber spot. My mama made this window seat cover for me because Guinea used to put her paws up on the ledge and I thought the cover would protect the wood. Now Guinea refuses to put her paws up there. (What a pansy, eh?) Instead she rests her slobbery jowls on the window seat cover...after she eats, after she chews bones, after she's drank half a bowl of water...do you catch what I'm saying here? I'm not sure what the best plan of attack is...leave the cover on and let it get ruined by slobbery juiciness? Or remove the cover and let her scratch the wood? It's a lose-lose situation.

Guinea is the source of most lost socks, blankets, and undies. She enjoys dragging sticks into the house, licking Ollie's fingers and toes, and sitting underneath the high-chair during meals. She's not always the cleanest dog and doesn't always have that Orbitz clean breath, but Aaron loves her. I love her.

And Ollie loves her too.

Meet Mr. Mary

Ok, ok...so technically his name's not Mr. Mary, but it'd be way funnier if it was. This is Aaron.

I'm sure he'll be pleased at my photo selection. :D

Aaron and I met in the winter of 2007 at a friend's apartment. We played cards all night and before I went home he asked me for my number. I gave it to him and he told me to, "let him know." I asked, "Let you know what?" And he looked at me so seriously and kindly and said, "Let me know when you do anything. I want to do it too." Can't you see why I swooped him up? 

Aaron's pretty fab as husbands go. He usually ALWAYS carries the garbage out to the street. (He'll be happy I put that in since he really doesn't want to take the garbage out tonight and has reminded me several times that he ALWAYS does it. :D) And he will eat almost anything I cook, even if it's bad. (Not that I ever cook anything bad.) He also is the only man on earth who would put up with all of my moody sassy fiestiness. (Not that I'm ever moody, sassy, or fiesty.) Yes, he stinks up the bathroom. All. The. Time. Yes, he forgets to put his Mountain Dew cans in the recycling. All. The Time. And yes, he likes to leave his face scruffy. All. The. Time.

But what girl can resist a man who kisses fish?

Or a man who looks good in a cowboy hat?

Or a man who can eat a Mark and Gary burger at the Iowa State Fair? (For you non-Iowans, that burger has a whole pound of beef!)

Nope, this man is all mine. I'm keeping him. He makes me happy and I couldn't be happier to have found him.

Good day

Today has been a good day. We started off the day planning to go to the park and zoo with one of my friends and her two cutie kiddos. Still in the ol' jammies complete with fuzzy teeth, I got a phone call from my dad saying they were selling cattle and wondered if they could stop by for lunch. ("They" being he and my great uncle, Orval.) Fast forward an hour and I am showered, Ollie is napping, Aaron is at work, and I am cooking. My phone rings again and it's a survey calling me to get answers about contraceptives and my views and perceptions. What I thought would be a fast survey turned into a 20 minute phone call! Not only that, but it got a little personal, if you know what I'm sayin. Sheesh man! Needless to say, when Dad and Orval arrived I wasn't quite ready. :/ So the big men got the task of entertaining the little man whilst I cooked. Not that they minded.

Ollie set them straight to work reading his favorite book, Moo, Baa, La La La. This book, it should be noted, was read 23 times the other day. No lie. T-w-e-n-t-y-t-h-r-e-e. As you can see, Guinea Pig even enjoys this book.

Orval got REALLY into the story and closed his eyes to better envision the characters. ;)
The lasagna I cooked was delish and before we knew it, the big men were hauling their cattle trailer home. :( Dad told us to be sure to read the book on the counter. My dad's tricky.

Don't you just love dads? What a dad thing to do! My dad's the best, hands down. I mean, honestly, he is. After all, if he wasn't, don't you think Ollie would have cried having a man carrying a slight (ok, more than slight) aroma of cow poo, holding his nigh-nigh (Ollie language for "blanket") and reading his favorite book? Ollie knows he's the best. Ollie's smart. :)  We went to the park but came home after only an hour. Sometimes a boy just needs a snooze. So Ollie's snoozing and I may or may not have eaten the remainder of these chocolate chips.

Like I said...it's been a good day.

Mama, can we go outside NOW?

Sooo...my gang likes to go outside. Ollie's on the left and loves being able to look out windows. Guinea Pig is on the right and loves to follow Ollie. After all, where there's a toddler, there are probably crumbs just waiting for a crafty dog to lick up.

A few days ago Ollie and I (ok, mostly me as Ollie's only 15 months) went crazy on the sidewalk with the alphabet. Ollie did hand me the chalk as I drew while Guinea Pig sat in the grass and chewed sticks. Who doesn't like an afternoon snack? Our chalk supply has run rather low so this afternoon's outside adventure will have to be hitting the baby pool. Nothing says, "I'm classy," like sitting in your $25 Wal-Mart baby pool whilst playing with bath toys. ;) Ah, well. It makes Ollie happy and if he's a happy kiddo, I'm a happy mama.

Sooo...

I've been thinking about doing this for some time now and, like many things in my life, have just put it onto the backburner. I've got plenty of time. I'm young. My husband's bound to win the lottery one of these days and then we'll move into the mansion of our dreams and I'll quit my job to stay home with Ollie and Guinea Pig and any other children/animals that choose to join our family and have time to start a blog. Right about that time I'll get that flying zebra I've been dreaming of and keep her happy next to the mandolin playing giraffe. Oh, to have dreams...

Reality sets in and I realize I'm not THAT young. The big 3-0 is creeping up. I'm in my job until Aaron hits the jackpot, or we discover we have an extremely rich relative who's died and left us all his/her gold mines, or we sell all our worldly possessions. It's a toss up which will happen first. Sooo...I'm starting a blog. Today.

I'm not sure what I'll be including in this ol' blog, but I'm sure I can come up with something. It's summer after all and don't all teachers have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do? (Only you teachers out there will realize how sarcastic that remark is.) I will probably be rather diligent at first about blogging and see how it goes. I make no promises, as life is funny like that. The moment you promise to do something, 250 million other things come up and you wind up overloading yourself so much you feel as though you're about to have a massive coronary. Nah, no promises from me. But I'm here now. I'm looking forward to this little...um..."project." Hmm...perhaps that's not the right word, but it'll do for now. Nap time is underway and I still need to clean the pool, sooo...blog with you more later.