Help! I'm cooking!

What's up with this "cooking" thing?!

Normal weekend breakfasts at our house usually involve cereal (with OR without milk, depending on who's eating it) and toast. Yogurt too sometimes. And if we're feeling fancy I'll whip up some scrambled eggs and sausage and we'll have breakfast burritos but that's pretty much it.

Well, this morning you know what sounded "fun"?

Making those cinnamon muffins... the kind you roll in butter and cinnamon sugar right before you eat 8 of them and never want to see them again (until the next time). And as if *that* craziness wasn't enough, I had a hankerin' for egg bake.

I was officially in cooking mode. I called grandma for a recipe for the egg bake and started in on the whole process (even exceeding my usual 4 ingredient limit by TWO).

I was thrilled beyond words when both recipes turned out the way they were supposed to (and a little shocked, but I played it cool) and when it was all done, it was delicious. I didn't burn any of it and both kids ate it which is pretty much the hardest test of any food I prepare.

I've started down a dark path though.

After my successful success today I got a hankerin' for something else.

Banana cream pie.

Made with actual ingredients.

So I went to the grocery store and picked up a banana cream pudding mix and a graham cracker crust. Till I saw the Oreo's and thought that Oreo's would be a much tastier crust than plain old graham crackers. So tonight I crushed cookies and made the crust. I'm waiting till tomorrow to mix up the pudding because even though I'm not hungry, I might be able to convince myself to taste for quality control purposes. So that's on tomorrow's agenda.

Along with eating the rest of the cinnamon muffins and egg bake. Yum!
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Chocolate Milk and Personal Space Don't Mix

After a full night consisting of refereeing fights, folding laundry, pulling Jake off of the side table many times, taking toys away as consequence for not picking up said toys, and just generally trying to deal with two kids who are sweet as sugar and then turn into Dr. Jekyll without a moments notice, all I wanted was a pedicure, facial, and shopping spree at Target to buy something just for myself.

But, since that's not in the budget... *sigh*...

I decided to settle for a mug of chocolate milk.

Chocolate milk *is* in our budget and not too much for me to ask for after making it through the evening as a good mommy (meaning I was super patient, didn't raise my voice too much, and no one got sent to time out, even though they deserved it, ahem, *KATIE*), right?

So I wandered into the kitchen (because the second I start walking anywhere with purpose, both kids are on me like butter on popcorn. Somehow they know I want to accomplish something and they need to be there to watch. And Katie will ask for help to go potty or for a drink of water, or for me to find lambie or bunny or another toy she could totally see if she would just go to her bedroom door and open her peepers... and Jake will suddenly need to be held and read to and will want to show me Chuck the Dump Truck for the 30th time that day.  But wandering just says that mommy is going to go to a different room and she's going to do something super boring and why don't we just play here till she comes back?) and pulled out a heavy mug. I mixed up a perfect concoction of milk and Ovaltine (which, incidentally smells a little off... it's a little reminiscent of the smell of kitty litter but it's hasn't gone bad... it's smelled odd from the start. Not yummy in powder form so I've stopped smelling it before I mix up my chocolate milk.)

I got everything mixed up and walked into the living room. The kids were still playing nicely about 8 feet away. So far so good!

But then... as I sat down... Katie looked over. And focused in on.my.mug. And Jake noticed she was looking. And so he looked. And then both of them came over to where I was getting settled in on the couch and they stood right in front of me, all up in my personal space (even though after becoming a mommy that seemed to shrink to almost non-existent proportions), and Katie asked me what I was drinking. Like 20 times.

And 15 times, I told her it was a mommy beverage.  By the 16th time I was still telling her it was a mommy beverage but had to stop the impulse to protectively hunch over my mug because that would have lowered it enough for one of the kids to get a hand around it and take it from me.

That wasn't informational enough for Katie and she kept asking. I stuck to my guns and continued to tell her that it was a beverage for mom and that it was mine to drink. (Insert scene from Lord of the Rings... Gollum and "precious" wouldn't be a stretch when considering my behaviour. I'm not proud of it looking back, but it was seemed perfectly normal last night.)

So then, after one more question from Katie:

Katie: Yes, but what IS it?

I finally just gave up on the hope that they would get bored and give up, and told her it was chocolate milk.

And got this:

Katie: Can I have some?

Me: In a bit.

Katie: But I'm really thirsty.

Me: Just let me drink mine really quick.

Katie: But I'm reeeeeeaalllllllyyyyy thirsty.

Me: One second honey... I just want to finish mine and then I'll give you some...

Katie (starting to look a little unhappy): But mommy, I am so thirsty and I really want something to drink!

Me:  Here.  Just drink mine.  (My "moment" was lost.)

Katie: But that's a mommy beverage and I can't drink that!

Me: Yes, it's yours. Take it.

Katie: Oh, but mommy, that's a mommy beverage! That's not for me!

Me: Take it. I'm not making you your own so if you want it, drink it.

Katie (with an angelic smile): Okay mommy!

Then I put Jake to bed, cuddled with Katie, held the mug for her in between drinks, and decided that I wish someone would invent a glass that would look like it was filled with water no matter what was inside. That way, I could sit down with a glass of chocolate milk without both kids wandering over to see what I've got before I even get settled, and wanting it.

Later that night, after I put Katie in bed and she was playing Make a Mess on my cell phone, I wandered into the kitchen and whipped up another batch of chocolate milk.  And drank it down before anyone could interrupt me again.  It was very good.  Because it was alllll mine.

Kids are weird. And noisy. And silly.

Last night we're just hanging around the house after dinner, eating our mini ice cream bars (100 calories and pretty good if on the very small side). 

Katie got her own and finished half of it before she decided to put it away for later.  (Who's kid is this again? Oh yeah, she was supposed to clean toys up after our dessert... she's pretty smart.  If she doesn't finish dessert, it's not time to clean up, right?)  I shared with Jake.  Which meant that I mostly tried to keep him from taking bites that would choke a large animal.  We were down to the last two smallish bites and I had my hand situated so he wouldn't push the whole bite into his mouth.  Well, he pushed and he pulled and I stayed firm.  There was no way I was letting him eat that whole piece especially since I wanted one more little taste! because it was too big.

Then he drooled.  On my pants leg.  And I let go of the ice cream bar.  Because cold, chocolaty drool is gross.

Before I could reach for a wipey to clean off my pants (gross), the bite was down and gone.  And Jake was smiling. 

Tricky kid.

Oh, and Katie has a thing for chapstick.  She neeeeeeeds it because her lip hurts (it's chapped under her bottom lip) and when she applies chapstick, she usually applies just a bit too much.  Last night was one of those times.  I had just gotten over being out-drooled by the boy when I looked over and saw that the lower part of Katie's face, nose down to chin, was very shiny.  Very shiny.  Like, glowing shiny when the light hit her face just right.  I figured out it was the chapstick and I laughed so hard I was tearing up and holding my sides.  And since chapstick is so long lasting, I kept laughing for the next hour or so before it wore off.

We blamed the laughter on Jake being so funny earlier (the ice cream incident) because we didn't want her to 1) do it again, and again, and again because it made us laugh the first time or 2) feel bad because we were laughing at her.

Good times.

Oh, and Katie told lots of jokes last night.  There was a reoccuring theme... "You know what's funny mommy?  Glasses (and after glasses, just substitute whatever else you might see laying around the house)... in WATER!"  then lots of laughter from her, and from me because she was so cute (even if her jokes could use a little work).  She listed a lot of funny things... in WATER.  Strange?  Um, yes.  But she cracked up so much over it that I couldn't help but laugh.

Our night.  In a nutshell.

And I've spared you the story of Katie's excessive crying because she left Mr. Bear at the lake this weekend and was so saaaaaaad that he wasn't here.  And her crying because I made her stay in her room after bedtime.  Oh, and I won't mention the 9:30 p.m. request for more pizza because she was staaaaaarving.  Or the 10 minutes we spent downstairs after she found the bin of toys and decided she neeeeeeded all of the soft toys to cuddle and could choose one, which resulted in... yes, you guessed it, more tears when she could only choose one soft toy.  And finally, some more crying about Mr. Bear before she finally fell asleep... with all of the soft toys (the 10 she already had in her room) set around her in bed.

And finally silence.  (Finally!)