{ camryn's corner }

I usually post a pic or two with my 'plug' for all y'all to visit MMU. But I won't this time. It would ruin the surprise.

Alright ladies, this one's for us . . . read Camryn's recent post titled Admiration here.

The pic at the end made me chuckle- spread the love, like she suggests, mmkay?

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Happy Monday!

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{ warning: 'homemaking' attempts in progress }

For legal purposes, there should be a loud siren, obnoxiously bright blinking lights, and a squadron of well-built men ready to aid the evacuation process every time I pull out the cook book. Although, I'll admit the latter of the three would be more for my viewing pleasure than actual necessity. {I'd be making more home-cooked meals- that's for sure.}

Okay, okay, I'm not terrible. I would say that I'm average. It's when I try to be amazing that things go wrong. I tried to make amazing pumpkin soup- threw the ENTIRE pot down the disposal. Tried to "spice" up tuna and macaroni salad- I was the only one that would come within 9.72 feet of it. And the meals I do make that taste good are a far cry from "pretty". Betty Crocker would not be bringing her photography crew over any time soon, that's for sure.

So let me tell you about my recent disaster escapade in the kitchen.

Once again, I was trying to get 'creative'. I kinda wish my track record had flashed in front of my eyes before I continued. My cousin {other than Camryn} and I were making caramel apples for Halloween. We were trying to be good mothers and have amazingly glorious traditions that our children will look back on and think that we are the most wonderful mothers ever to walk the earth. You know, those kind of traditions. We purchased our loot at two {yes, two- our first shopping adventure left us caramel-less} different stores and began the process.

My cousin began dipping her apples and made them super gorgeous and proceeded to add chocolate to them. See, she can be creative without it backfiring in her face, why can't I?! I was hoping her luck of creative culinary creations would rub off on me.

But I had to change mine up a bit. Mr. Smith HATES apple peels. They irritate his teeth, or rub funny on them, blah, blah, b...l... *snore*

So me, being The Most Amazing Wifey In The World, decided to peel the apples first. Cuz I'm Awesome that way. And then I decided to cut them up and do bite-sized caramel covered apple pieces. Sounds delightful, huh?

WARNING: CARAMEL INDEED DOES NOT STICK TO APPLE FLESH. AT ALL.

It sluffed off the apple like slime off a slug. So I dump all the pieces into the pan of melted caramel. Perhaps the caramel would cool and harden around it if the pieces were immersed in this confectionary goodness and left in the fridge for a while.

The Next Day . . .

Still sluffing.

I decide to get monstrously creative. {I know, the warning lights were going off in my brain too, but I couldn't waste this heavenly marriage of apples and caramel.} I made a pie crust.

I cooked the pie crust.

I reheated the caramel and apples.

I whipped up some heavy cream till light and fluffy, then folded into the caramel mixture.

Lo and behold . . . {insert heavenly choirs of angels singing here}, I have created the caramel apple chiffon pie.

H A L L E L U J A H!!!

Okay, I really don't know the calorie intake on a slice, nor do I want to know. This thing was so stinking sweet, yet so divine that I kept going back for another "bite". So even though I think I'll tweak it a bit more, here's the lovely 'turning lemons into lemonade' recipe:

The Mean Mommy Caramel Apple Chiffon Pie

So, even though it started out as a disaster, I'm kinda glad my sweetheart doesn't like apple peelings, otherwise I would not have discovered some truly divine-ness. Now we just have to work on him not liking pie crusts. The next morning I found this:

Do you notice something missing? Look closely. Around the edges. Oh wait! You don't see any edges? Maybe that's because Mr. Smith PULLED OFF THE FREAKING CRUST AND ATE IT!!

Which brings me to my next subject- This month I plan on paying tribute to the men in our lives who like to watch football, forget to take out the trash, make their wives peel their apples, come up with insane reasons for their behavior {i.e. crust harvesting}, etc. I am dedicating all of my posts this month to:

Husbands.

In particular, mine.

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Enjoy your weekend!

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{ps- are your Halloween decorations still up, too? And how many pieces of candy have you stolen borrowed eaten from your child's stash?}

{ camryn's corner }

I love fairies: You can make one up for any occasion. I think God created the fairy idea for mothers. You can comfort, bribe and threaten with The Fairy Concept. And there is no limit to the names and what your fairies can do.

Do you have a child who won't stop crying? Threaten them with the Crying Fairy- she takes away unhappy little children to her castle and makes them sing in her Crying Choir.

original pic from here

Does your child have a problem picking up their toys? Tell them the Toy Fairy will come in the night and take all the toys left on the floor and take them to Santa's workshop to give to kids who don't have any.

original pic from here

Did your child eat all of their dinner even try a bite of the slimy asparagus stems? The Ice Cream Fairy may have left a surprise in the freezer!

original pic from here

Then there's the usual Tooth Fairy, Potty Fairy . . . wait . . . is that a normal fairy? Why, no. No it's not. It is a part of the inspired imagination that belongs to Camryn. Click here to read up on this brand new fairy.

original pic from here

But I MUST WARN YOU. Making up fairies can backfire! Your child just may have a deep unknown desire to sing in a Crying Choir. They may feel bad for children who don't have toys and will purposefully leave them out. And they may not even want ice cream. So here is MMA and MMU's disclaimer:

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In the event that you do in fact make up a fairy in order to keep the sanity of you and yours, please be advised that this does not mean that peace and tranquility will ensue. In fact, it could be cloudy with a chance of Backfire. Please be advised that the making up of a new fairy could ease the fallout, but be prepared to make up yet another fairy. MMA and MMU are not responsible for the misuse of this 'fairy making-up' power.

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Thank you.

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Happy Monday!

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{ happy halloween eve }

With the witching hour drawing nigh, I have found that my brain has been put under a spell. I am fairly certain that there is a witch or warlock out there giggling with delight at the chaos that they have put into my life. I, for some reason, have not been able to keep track of my days. For example: I usually post on Thursdays, but yesterday I thought it was Wednesday, thus providing further evidence of my brain being bewitched. Because as a mom, I would NEVER forget what day it was. Ever. *ahem* You should be slightly proud however, that I was able to remember that it was field trip day yesterday. So take that evil spell!

This is my Favorite time of year. I love fall. And I adore Halloween. Not the creepy scary blood and gore let's get chased by a man with a chain saw in a maze of corn Halloween. Oh, no. Nasty. I do not find joy and elation by putting myself in a situation where I may or may not pee my pants from fright. That just isn't my cup o' tea. This, my friends, is:

I got my son off to school, his Bumblebee costume in his backpack. We had a 'debate' whether or not he should bring his mask. As Supreme Ruler and Judge, I won. He went maskless. I am now free to prepare for the amazing holiday where kids get to stay up late, get tons of candy and get sick. Is anyone else excited that Halloween falls on a Saturday? I hate it when it falls on the weekdays. That is pure torture. I think we should change the date. Who wants to start a petition? I call that Halloween should fall on the last Friday or Saturday of the month {haven't decided which one is better}. Any takers?

Anywho, today will be filled with making these:

Recipe found here.

Recipe drooled over here.

{PLEASE head on over to the Idea Room and check out her amazing ideas. This woman is genius.}

Thanks to the fact that my daughter REFUSES to potty train again {extra thanks to this}, I have had to resort to insanely cheap decorating. My husband didn't like the idea of setting up a Halloween Decoration Fund at our local banking institution. Apparently we don't have the 'funds', or whatever that means... So I have scoured the internet and have found some fun ideas that I will be making today. How cute are these?

{When you have a solid 7, 946 hours, you must read Blue Cricket Design's Blog. Be prepared to stay awhile.}

I will be hanging them on my branches I borrowed from a trip to the remote dessert and spray painted black and dumped in a bucket. Total cost? 89 cents. Very 'fund'able.

I will also be making these as well:

{Again, another fantabulous blog! The Joys of Home blog is very addicting. Maybe you should wait until AFTER the Holidays are over and you have tons of time.}

So it is off to clean the house! I don't know about you, but decorating isn't as fun to do when your house is a maze of toys and C.R.A.P. And I have to find missing parts to my daughter's costume. She is going to be Super Girl. Unless you ask her yourself. She'll tell you she's She-Ra. {And I couldn't be more proud! Anyone else love She-Ra?}

PS. Is anyone else freaking out that it's the end of October already? Good thing we already carved our pumpkin . . . unfortunately we did it a little too early. Jerry the Jack o' lantern didn't make it to Halloween. So much for being on the ball. I have prepared a lovely eulogy:

R.I.P. Geriatric Jack-o-lantern

As we travel through the seasons of life, we find ourselves transforming in ways we had no intention of. Like our dear friend, Jerry the Jack-0-lantern. He started out so vibrant, orange and fresh . . .

. . . then with skilled hands, received a deep colon cleanse . . .

. . . and a facelift that demanded attention . . .

. . . we loved the new look. but as the week progressed, our dear friend began to sag.

{it happens to the best of us}

As the season of his life was coming to an end, the once perky eyebrows began to droop, the lips began to curve inward, and he began to get a little 'clogged up' with decaying matter. Unknowingly, he lost complete control of his bodily functions and began to give off "offensive" odors. It was time for Jerry the Geriatric Jack-o-lantern to go to a better place. A place where pumpkins roll free and happy faces are carved daily. {With a complimentary internal cleanse included.}

We love you jerry . . . until we meet again . . .

{and yes, I bathed my children BEFORE we carved pumpkins. Don't you?}

{ camryn's corner }

As I read Camryn's post this morning, I was thinking about the oxymoron that is MY LIFE. I am an impatient perfectionist. Whuh?! That's right. I stress over things being perfect, but then I am insanely impatient. Does that combo even exist in real life? Well apparently it does in mine.

Do you want something to look super nice, but 72 million hours later, you decide that enough is enough and opt out of moving the bed so you can paint behind the headboard . . . ?

I got impatient- didn't want to wait for the hubby. And I was tired. I was a brand new mom, and no one was going to see my white patch of hidden wall. Otherwise I would have taken the time to hurl mattress to the floor, scoot the box springs to the side with ease, and lift the headboard back a couple feet myself. I was relieved that I still had the paint can in the basement when we moved. Although now I am feeling deep chagrin for not taking pictures.

But you are in luck! Because Camryn did! Head on over to Mean Mommy University and read all about her 'blonde moment'. I'm just SOO glad that I'm not the only one that has those.

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Happy Monday!

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ps- here's one for the road:

A blonde has just gotten a new sports car. She cuts in front of a semi, and almost causes it to drive over a cliff. The driver furiously motions for her to pull over, and she does. The driver gets out and draws a circle, telling her to stand in it. Then he gets out his knife and cuts up the leather seats. He turns around and sees she's smiling. So he goes to his truck, takes out his baseball bat, and starts busting her windows and beating her car. He looks back to see that she's laughing. He's really mad now, so he takes his knife and slices her tires. He turns around and she's laughing so hard, she's about to fall down. He demands, "What's so Funny?!" To which she replied, "Every time you weren't looking, I stepped out of the circle!"

{ bodily functions }

Does anyone else have problems getting their 6 year old to sleep? I didn't until last night. For some reason my son would not go to bed. So me, being the genius that I am, came up with a solution. He could 'fall asleep' on my bed, and then I would begin the process of moving him to the floor {yeah, right, like I'm going to carry that heavy mass of a body with all of my 5 feet of strength down a flight of stairs and onto his own bed}. This procedure is performed as such:

1 | roll the body until the subject is on his back, with the head pointing towards you.

{here is where you prepare yourself for some awesome visual aids. It's okay to be jealous of my mad doodling with a mouse skills. *snort*}

2 | place firm grip under armpits by making sure the crook of your arm is placed strategically under the armpits.

3 | pull.

4 | gently.

5 | as the feet are last to be pulled off the 4 feet tall bed, just let them fall onto the floor.

6 | your child should be slightly coherent at this point, so tell them to lay on the pillow on the floor. If not, just drag.

7 | cover child with warm blanket.

8 | grab a huge glass of water to rehydrate yourself after your amazing workout. And don't forget to grab you a piece of chocolate from your hidden stash to reward yourself as well. What. We all know you have one. ;)

{What do you mean you don't wear hair accessories that match your furniture?}

As I went upstairs {waaaayyyy later than I should have} to begin my 'workout', an all too familiar smell was in the air.

Are you kidding me? I thought as I ran to the bed and pulled back the covers. Sure enough, for the first time in years, my son lay fast asleep in a puddle of pee.

*Don't tell Mr. Smith it was his side.*

Major shaking and tapping ensued- to wake my son up. I told him he had to take a shower and go back to his bed.

"Why?"

"Because you peed on my bed."

"Who."

"You did."

"Me?!?!?"

"Yes you."

"How?"

" . . . . . . . . "

Needles to say, I got him showered {yes, I was the only responsible adult present I was the only legal adult present}, cleaned up, tucked in, got the sheets changed, and mattress Lysoled all before midnight. Holla! {But then I froze while sleeping because I left the window open and had only a sheet for protection- yes I was too tired to get up and close the dang window.}

And then there's my daughter. I love her. Desperately. And she loves her dairy products. Desperately. She has an addiction.

Do you KNOW what happens to people who have an addiction to dairy products???

That's right. They get clogged.

My daughter is addicted to dairy products.

This resulted in the need for Milk Rehab.

1 | No milk, yogurt or cheese.

2 | Only juice or water.

3 | And rice.

After hours of tears I am happy to report this was a success. We are clog free!

I KNOW you wanted to know that. And you're welcome.

Being a mother means doing things you never in your wildest dreams thought you would do. It means touching things that would have made you spew chunks when you were younger. It means smelling things that shouldn't be smelled by mere mortals. In fact here's a song for you, dear Mother Who Has Children . . .

*sniff* Beautiful isn't it?
So here's to us Moms! Cleaners of all things gross! Smellers of all things vile! Sacrificers of all things . . . um, well . . . All Things! {I was going to put dignified, but we sacrifice much more than dignity when it comes to motherhood.}
We Rock.
And don't you forget it . . .
---------------------Have a Great Weekend!---------------------

{ camryn's corner }

There is a reason why we women do the shopping. Especially when it comes to birthdays. Because something phenomenal happens when it comes to the male brain.

It Translates.

It translates EVERYTHING. You tell them to get one thing and those wheels begin a turnin'. Sparks start flying, smoke gets conjured up, data gets pushed around. They analyze your idea about that object, come up with a better solution or idea, and then can't even remember what you told them to get in the first place, so they end up just guessing about what you told them you needed. Which is why we have to be very specific when it comes to writing our lists {verbal lists are completely useless}. And even then it doesn't compute clearly. Which is why we must obey our one true motto:

If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.

Read Camryn's post about her man's computed 'solution' to the birthday present conundrum!

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Happy Monday!

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