Wrangling Cheeky Monkeys and Other Noble Pursuits

A halting return. . . .

2012-02-06T14:55:00.002-05:00

Crashed hard drive over a year ago--ack!, raising monkeys, pregnant with another. . . there are so many POOR! reasons why I have not made the time to be in this space. But I miss it.

So, I'm coming back, baby.

Stay tuned.

In the meantime, check out this blog I like. Beauty that Moves. Heather, the author, has a seemingly idyllic life that's fun and dreamy to step into every once in awhile. Thanks to Kara for sharing!

A Thanksgiving Motto

2010-11-25T12:05:00.002-05:00

Did you hear. . .

2010-11-19T17:08:00.000-05:00

. . . he's coming to town? Which makes me say a resounding

OH CRAP.

I'm so not ready for this.

I'm going to follow Kate's list from Rants from Mommyland to see me through!

The Anti-Texas Brownie

2010-11-18T20:41:00.000-05:00


Look what lives at my house!

The fabulous fall cakelet pan has arrived at my house just in time for Thanksgiving! Pumpkin bread, mini-spice cakes, teeny-tiny little corn breads. . . all in the festive fall shapes of acorns, walnuts, miniature pumpkins, and squash, oh my! I am weak in the knees with baking anticipation!

Wise Woman is blowing into town for the quickest visit in the history of the world next week. . . perhaps a mini acorn or two will be awaiting her and her little chickens. . .

A Texas brownie is NOT on the menu.

One Sentence Wednesday: Vision Board

2010-11-17T08:37:00.000-05:00

A beginning---still have more to add!

I am participating in Organicsyes's online vision board workshop today---join us!

A Walking Contradiction

2010-11-16T09:36:00.000-05:00

Last night 'round the ole dinner table, the family decided to each describe ourselves in three words. The first word I blurted out was

ORGANIZED

and Big and HM promptly started to laugh. Loudly.

Offended, I retorted that I WAS very organized. The laughing turned to guffaws.

Big said, "This house? It can be a MESS."

Yes, it can. I argue that I am both organized AND messy. A seeming contradiction, but, you can be both. Everything may have a place. . . one just might not choose to put it there at a given time. Ergo, mess. Which can easily be remedied because I am so ORGANIZED.

I long time ago, in a state far, far away, I was team-teaching with Organicsyes. We had a reputation. . . .she was the creative one, and I was the organized one. This used to make me bristle. I was creative too! not really But now, it looks like I have lost my organized rep altogether, despite my tireless not to mention successful! efforts at organizing CheekyMonkeydom. Ah, well. A prophet is never believed. . . or appreciated. . .in her hometown. Or in her home, for that matter.

Sigh. Off to organize a reading binder for Big and work on cleaning and organizing HM's office. Just call me Rodney Dangerfield. I mean, the Wrangler.

A Noble Pursuit

2010-11-15T13:48:00.001-05:00

Collecting words is a very, very noble pursuit. I love words (evidenced here) and fervently wish my vocabulary was as big as a house. My most prized possession? The most romantic gift I have ever received from Head Monkey?

That's right. The Oxford English Dictionary.

It sits proudly in my family room on. . . you guessed it. . . the dictionary table. I have a piece of furniture for the dictionary. I don't have a guest bed, but my dictionary has a place all its own.

Our own Tutcibachi has shared a website that showcases words that GASP! might be omitted from the venerable OED due to lack of use. Logophiles, please do your part! Go to the website and adopt a word today!

www.savethewords.org

Ode to My Nemesis

2010-11-12T13:20:00.000-05:00

She hurts me.
And is a mean lady.
And makes me say

ow ow ow ow ow.

We are CRYING. . .

2010-11-11T21:58:00.000-05:00

. . .we are laughing so hard. Wise Woman called. Went to website. Can write no more. Am laughing too hard.

Click here to laugh your monkey head off!

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-11-10T14:07:00.001-05:00

Today was Biography Day at school and BIG's most dramatic, emphatic line in his speech was. . . . .

I AM Dwight D. Eisenhower.

Balls

2010-11-09T22:02:00.001-05:00

Which monkey has no balls?

We are a house that has balls. LOTS AND LOTS of balls. Literal and metaphorical AND anatomical. Balls GALORE. When I picked up Big's bedroom once, I found ELEVEN balls. You heard me. ELEVEN.

The other day I mentioned to Middle that our Little, who is nearly one, had no balls to call his own. I suggested that maybe Middle could buy some for Little for his birthday. Middle, a sporting fellow, was very pleased by this idea and promptly agreed to the plan. He sprinted over to Head Monkey and whispered in his ear. I thought he was sharing the plan.

NOPE.

Head Monkey's eyes grew wide, then he broke into a big smile.

What did Middle say?

Dad! Little has no balls!

The. End.

I have an unnatural attachment. . . .

2010-11-08T16:02:00.002-05:00

. . . to my crock pot.
Oh, I love it so.

The crock pot has changed my life. When Little arrived, I had NO IDEA how I was ever going to feed my family EVER AGAIN. I relied on the kindness of friends to feed us for two months, but then I realized that I needed to get back in the game. And my ace in the hole? The tool that would see me through?

YE OLD CROCK POT. OR TWO.

Tandem crock pots. Bliss!

I have a good friend, we'll call him Mr. Pleased as Punch, who derides crock pot cooking. He even has a crock pot vocabulary---beef in the crock pot is BARF. Chicken---CHARF. He is certainly NOT Pleased as Punch when he is served food from these vessels of joy, claiming it all tastes the same. I am here to proclaim. . . . NOT SO! NOT SO!! This is not your mother's crock pot cooking!

This changed everything.

This book, and Stephanie's fabulous blog, allowed me to get dinner on the table again. And, due to the variety, spices, and inventive ingredients, not a

CHARF

BARF

has been had.

Come to my house sometime! I will make you something hot, delicious, and slow-cooked, baby.

Family Field Trip

2010-11-07T19:33:00.002-05:00

Pine Forest II by Gustav Klimt

A few weeks ago, Middle took a field trip to a local art museum. Ever since, he has been asking to take the whole family. Proud as a peacock, he gave us a guided tour of "his museum"--- he was strutting through those galleries to show his brothers the mosaics from Antioch, the Matisse room that had fourteen paintings and sculptures all by Matisse---we counted, and the miniature gallery. Little gave a running commentary through the entire place, Big and HM debated over whether or not pieces were actually ART, and, despite an overzealous security guard's attempt to rain on our parade, we had a fabulous time. Our first real field trip since the arrival of Little, eleven months to the day that he joined our family.

Enjoy Pine Forest II. I want to go there.

Texas Brownies

2010-11-04T08:56:00.006-04:00

Tonight as I was tucking in Big when he revealed that a boy in his class (we'll call him Kid to protect the guilty), was teasing him at school. Whenever Big makes a comment, Kid says.....

Add it to Big's Stupid List.

Well, with the Big I did the right thing. Told him to tell Kid to stop it and if he didn't, to ask his teacher for some help. Big begged me to intervene, but I told him that he had to try to handle it himself first.

I was steaming mad. I wanted to call the teacher, the mother, the grandmother, the neighbor, anybody who would listen to me rail on Kid and would help me get some freaking JUSTICE. But, that would be wrong. He is only a KID, after all. Instead, I took the high road---I started texting Wise Woman.

Here's how we handle stuff like this in Cheekymonkeydom:

Wrangler: Remember when what kids did didn't bother me? Those days are over.

I've had to sit on my hands all night to keep from calling the teacher. Big is being picked on by a kid named Kid. I wish I could square up on that Kid and kick straight him in the batteries but that would be unladylike.

Wise Woman: I don't remember you ever not caring what kids did to your kids. Errrr.

Wrangler: All fired up and have to let him handle it. Grrrr.

WW: Maybe the phantom Wise Woman can send him poop in a bag...

Wrangler: Yes. Texas poop is the best kind. Here is the line I'm going to encourage him to use...

You know what's stupid, Kid? Calling people stupid. Please stop.

WW: Perfect. And then tell him you have a brownie. Only it's poop.

Beware the brownie, Kid.
It's coming for you.
From TEXAS.

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-11-03T08:38:00.002-04:00

I spend too much time. . . . .

reading blogs--grading papers--wiping noses--planning class--posting to Blackboard--scheduling chimney repairs--finding babysitters--making dinner--checking homework--
cleaning up dog vomit--
watching reality TV

to post on my own blog.

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-10-27T21:38:00.001-04:00

A quote from me, one minute ago. . .

"It's one sentence Wednesday---oh crap."

Funniest Facebook Post EVER.

2010-10-26T10:25:00.000-04:00

Courtesy of my husband's cousin. . . . .

I can't stop thinking and laughing about what my daughter said the other day. She quietly called the cat "stupid" and when she was confronted about it and asked to repeat what she said, she yelled out, "I love Jesus! I love Jesus!"

Proust Questionnaire, Interactive Edition, The Sequel

2010-10-25T11:13:00.000-04:00

Here's our buddy, Proust. And he has more questions.

Read my responses here. I can't wait to hear yours!

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-10-20T09:23:00.000-04:00

I have been down in the dumps for quite some time now, due to coping with the practically nomadic existence of the Head Monkey whilst trying to properly care for Big, Middle, and Little, but after reading this and this, I have gained some perspective and launched a plan.

Thanks to Kate and Lydia from Rants from Mommyland and Gretchen Rubin's Happiness Project.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Proust Questionnaire--Interactive Edition. Part One

2010-10-19T13:40:00.000-04:00

All right. Our numbers now have reached a critical mass of 10! Can I get a WOOT?

I am ignoring the fact that Tutcibachi is registered twice and proudly declaring that I have 10 followers!
Thanks to Soccer Mom for being proud #10!

Since we have reached the double digit milestone, I now believe it is time to launch. . . .

The Proust Questionnaire---Interactive Edition

For those of you that don't know, or have never read the back page of Vanity Fair magazine, the Proust Questionnaire is a series of questions first answered and published by Marcel Proust. These questions are fun, thought-provoking, and insightful for both the one answering the questions and the ones enjoying the responses.

Which brings me to the INTERACTIVE part of the program.

Each week I will be posting a few of Proust's questions along with my responses here. Your job? To read and answer the questions for yourself. Comments needed to play. If you don't choose to participate, I may send the cheeky monkeys to your house during homework and dinnertime. That means you, all you reluctant commenters. I am currently too polite to name names. But don't push your luck. Fun, yes?

And one more thing.

I think I'm ready to go a bit more public. So feel free to share the link with friends that you think would enjoy visiting Cheeky Monkeydom now and again.

Here's to the first ten! You are strong, fabulous women (and one man) with fantastic web aliases.

Love,
The Wrangler

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-10-13T22:27:00.001-04:00

I received a CHILI PEPPER on Rate My Professor.com. Woot!!

Tutcibachi Speaks

2010-10-12T14:41:00.000-04:00

Hey readers! All nine of you! Check out our own Tutcibachi commenting on the great blog, Penelope Loves Lists. She shares how list making can really be life-changing for people. Read it and get inspired!
I'm so very honored and am so grateful to all of you who read and comment. It makes a Wrangler's day!

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-10-06T20:35:00.000-04:00

Warning: This is long. Not one sentence. But still germane to the overall spirit of the one-sentence idea. Bear with me.

In addition to holding the title of Wrangler of Cheeky Monkeydom, I also have the great good fortune of moonlighting as a professor to college-age cheeky monkeys who are studying to be cheeky elementary school teachers. Last Wednesday, some of these students of mine decided it would be fine to text during class and that certainly I WOULDN'T NOTICE.

HA. Don't they know who I am?

I'm The Wrangler, she who knows and sees all in Cheeky Monkeydom, the Home Front AND Cheeky Monkeydom, College Edition.

Well, when I get irritated I strategically choose words from my large vocabulary arsenal to lob at my intended victim(s), which typically results in blank stares. Here was the one sentence that got the attention of the College Monkeys last Wednesday. . .

Before you leave today, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that this classroom is quite small, and that I see everything, including those of you who find it necessary to surreptitiously text during class.

Fast forward one week.

Today was my lecture on vocabulary, which happens to be one of my faves. I love words---I am a regular logophile (it's not dirty---look it up, Wise Woman). I mentioned to my class that when I get irritated, I tend to use much more elaborate and precise vocabulary. Don't you know that those cheeky monkeys morphed into HOWLER monkeys, quoting me verbatim from last week's fatwa on texting! I guffawed!

Here is one student's very cheeky rendition of last's week's class. . . .

In case you are wondering, the irate woman is me.

Happy Wednesday.

An Update: Bobby. Johnny.

2010-10-04T18:39:00.001-04:00

His name is Mr. Bill. Go figure.

Bobby. Johnny.

2010-10-04T10:00:00.000-04:00

Wrangler: What's the bus driver's name?
Big: Bobby.
Middle: Johnny.

Bobby.
Johnny.
Bobby.
Johnny.
Bobby.
Johnny.

You get the idea.

Wrangler: Ask him his name. The polite thing to do is to greet him by name when you get on the bus and thank him by name when you get off.

Yeah, says Little, perfectly on cue and always quick to point out what would be the mannerly thing to do.

Big, if his name is Bobby, give me a thumbs up when you get on the bus. Middle, if it's Johnny, you give me a thumbs up. That way I won't die of curiosity while you are at school.

They agree to the plan.

The bus arrives.

Middle converses with the driver.

I wait. With bated breath.

What do I see framed in the school bus window?

Two little monkeys. . . .

EACH WITH A THUMB UP.

The Best Thing I've Read in a While

2010-10-01T08:20:00.000-04:00

Seems like I have had a thing for other men this week. (Sorry, Head Monkey. In your absence, I've fallen for a disembodied voice and a fictional man. Stay HOME.) First, my inclement weather guy. Swoon. Now, Major Pettigrew.

I love Major Pettigrew. For me, he is starting to rank up there with Atticus Finch. I would love to be his neighbor and have tea with him, but know that I AM NOT WORTHY. Here's my new favorite quote from the book. . . .

Lord Daginum:
"In my day, that would have sufficed, but these days, men expect their wives to be as dazzling as their mistresses."
"That's shocking!" said the Major. "How on Earth will they tell them apart?"
"My point exactly," said Daginum, missing the Major's hint of irony.

What's not to love about this guy? He is so proper and conflicted and delicious and human.

If you haven't read this already, do. It is a delight. Click here to read a review by someone much more literary than I.

Enjoy!

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-09-29T19:37:00.000-04:00

In order to preserve tranquility in the state of Cheeky Monkeydom, the Wrangler is indulging in her second glass of wine and then will be tucked into bed by 8 pm.

Good night.

I'm in love. . .

2010-09-28T16:02:00.000-04:00

. . .with the man who records the update on the Inclement Weather Line for the sports fields in my county. It's a rustic, mid-Atlantic drawl that I find so comforting. . .especially when he says. . .

This is the Inclement Weather Line.
Today is Tuesday, September 28.
All fields and grassy areas are closed due to wet field conditions.

If I ever see him, I will kiss this man square on the mouth. He has freed me from soccer. And you moms out there know how delicious a freed-up afternoon can be. It's like a snow day in the fall.

Can I get a woot?

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-09-22T09:41:00.000-04:00

This is the carnage that ensues when I avoid laundry for a week.

The. End.

Quorum Call

2010-09-21T10:28:00.001-04:00

After corresponding about my book list with one-seventh of my readership, tee hee I was wondering about the books the remaining six-sevenths of you hold dear.

What books from my book list do we have in common?
What are the books that would appear on YOUR list?
What must must must I read next?

Let's go readers! All seven of you! Chime in!

Sap Fest 2010

2010-09-20T13:43:00.000-04:00

. . . .otherwise known as Back to School Night.

Those that know me know I am not a sentimental person. I don't hold onto things for reasons other than function and it takes a lot to move me into a place of nostalgic reflection. I find poems that are crafted to elicit a specific tearful, wistful response to be manipulative, cloying, and irksome.

Or at least I did. Until I had these monkeys. And sent them to school.

See, upon school entry I realized in a way that I never did before that time is flying by and my days with these cheeky little critters is fleeting. For the love of Pete, the Little has now officially been out longer than he'd been in. How did that happen?

But I digress.

Every stinking time I set foot at the boys' school I well up. Or outright cry. Because I am so grateful that they are in a place where they are taught so well and loved so well. Ergo, I am no longer impervious to the sappy poems that get trotted out on Back to School Night (or, as it should be called, Sap Fest fill in the current year).

Here is one such sample.

If I had my child to raise over again,
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I'd finger paint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less and know to care more.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often.
I would be firm less often and affirm much more.
I'd model less about the love of power,
And more about the power of love.
---Diane Loomis

No disrespect to Ms. Loomis, but this is as manipulative, sappy, cloying, and irksome as they come.

And it made me cry anyway.

Thanks to Mrs. B and Mrs. R for spending this year with Big and Middle. I am so grateful for your presence in their lives.

One Sentence Wednesday

2010-09-14T13:58:00.000-04:00

Here's a new thing I'm trying. . .distilling all of my thoughts and concerns of the day into one sentence. On Wednesdays. Hence, One Sentence Wednesday.

Putting structure and limitations on the written form is certainly not a new idea (think: haiku), but it does force the writer to be more precise and creative OR thoughtless and banal (think: the I'm so tired status updates on Facebook and Twitter). Here's hoping my lines won't cause you to yawn. Think and or chuckle is what I'm going for here.

And, without further ado, the first One Sentence Wednesday:

The orajel/ibuprofen cocktail is, in my estimation, man's single greatest invention, and very well may save my sanity.

The end.

Reality Sucks. Brain Cells, That Is.

2010-09-10T13:44:00.001-04:00

Currently, I am not at my cognitive best. I hope this is a passing phenomenon. If not, we are in a LOT of trouble. What with the new(ish) baby, significant sleep deprivation, two crazy school-aged schedules, the Head Monkey's itinerant work schedule, my work schedule, and keeping track of the flippin' DOG, I literally don't know whether I'm coming or going. Or how to spell anymore. (I already have had to confirm my spelling of itinerant and deprivation. That is SO not like me).

And to make matters worse? I am addicted to soul-sucking, brain-rotting REALITY TELEVISION.

I'm not proud. But these shows are delicious. And curious. And train-wreckalecka. But they are slowing leeching away my very limited IQ points. They also send me into a veritable SINK HOLE of rationalization. I find myself frequently justifying my choices by saying. . . .

At least I don't watch
The Jersey Shore.

Yet.

In a I hope not vain attempt to refire some dormant neurons, I am going on a self-imposed reality television diet. This diet includes refraining from watching the shows and reading the show blogs. In my very limited free time, I should be pursuing that which is noble. (For a full listing of noble pursuits, click here).

I will refrain from thinking about the following, which consumes a shameful amount of my waking hours. . .

Is Danielle actually the spawn of Satan?
Why won't Kourtney just leave Scott already?
How exactly DOES one get into $11 million of debt?
Will Bethenny have another baby and how the HELL did her body bounce back like that at age 39? Yes, I know she's 39. Further evidence that I have a problem.
Will Bravo create a spin-off of Kelly in a mental health institution?
How many different ways can the word douche be used?

Andy Cohen. . . . Ryan Seacrest. . . a loyal follower of your programs must take a break to try to regain her brain. I'll be back someday.

Who am I kidding. I'll probably be back Sunday. Can't miss those crazy Kardashians.

Fun Mom Friday: Game Night

2010-09-04T13:55:00.000-04:00

We had a good old fashioned family game night last night. And it was a blast!

Thank you to Moriah for hosting this fun idea. I look forward to its return!

To see other Fun Mom Friday posts, click here.

The Wrangler's No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Day: An Addendum

2010-08-31T14:48:00.000-04:00

unbeknownst to me, Big attempted a science experiment.

Materials:
Red dye found in the children's science kit
Why in the world would red dye be in there???

Procedure:
Spill red dye on the floor. See if red dye comes out of the white grout between the tiles.
It doesn't. Try to clean it up.
In the process, spill red dye on the white counter. Attempt to clean.
Again, it does not come out.
Hear mom calling. Go downstairs and forget to mention that red dye is everywhere.

Awesome.

The Wrangler's No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Day

2010-08-30T21:15:00.000-04:00

It started with the dentist. Grr.

And went downhill fast.

Monkeys found themselves in BIG TROUBLE.

To their rooms they went.

For HOURS.

And it never let up.

The Little woke up an hour early from nap. Imagine him mewing. Continuously. FOR FOUR HOURS.

The dog ate several alphabet blocks. Enough to spell NHPWK.

I had to cancel a playdate. I hate it when the BIG TROUBLE ends up punishing me.

We were late for an afternoon appointment due to crying, whining, and the lost shoe tragedy.

I spent WAY too much at Target for necessary but very uninspiring things.

Monkeys spilled an entire bag of dog food on the laundry room floor.

I kept thinking the Head Monkey was scheduled arrive home and rescue me tonight. Until he reminded me THAT HE WASN'T.

I hit my head on the bike rack as I was closing the trunk of my van. AGAIN.
I am not a smart woman.

As I rushed to the side of the Middle as he howled in pain, the dog took the opportunity to eat all of our dinners as they sat on the table. Those plates were LICKED CLEAN. Double dinner making time.

The Little has not had a poo all day. I suspect that gift will arrive at THREE A.M.

All that, and Wilber the Wonder Turtle has to go back to his home in the science classroom tomorrow.

I am bereft. He is the best little turtle I have ever known.

And I love him so.

Sigh.

Fun Mom Friday: Fostering Independent Monkeys

2010-08-27T14:34:00.001-04:00

This week, Kitchen Independence was declared by the monkeys. NOT the Wrangler. In the spirit of Fun Mom Friday (and a need for some help in the kitchen, as having the Little has been a real game changer), I decided to bite my tongue, take a deep breath, provide supplies, and see what happened.

NOTE: The Big and the Middle did ALL of this themselves. I was only allowed to put items in the oven and flip pancakes on the griddle. It was lucky I was able to be in the vicinity of the kitchen AT ALL. They were very keen to do this ALL BY OURSELVES. Which makes the Wrangler say. . . . .Ack.
RECIPES:

Taped inside the cabinets for easy monkey access and independence

RESULTS:

Pancakes: Three attempts. . . and three rousing successes! Light, fluffy, delicious. Enjoyed by all, but received especially high marks from the very discerning puppy dog.

Cookies: After three failed attempts, one and a half POUNDS of butter, and a course correction by the Wrangler, we got this. . . .
BIG, INDEPENDENT fun was had by all. And, I'll admit. . .despite the messes, the mistakes, and the mayhem, it is fabulous to watch my cheeky monkeys embrace something that I love so much. Baking. . . bliss. Watching monkeys bake? Ahh. . .there are no words.

Check out other Fun Mom Friday posts here.

Fun Mom Friday

2010-08-20T15:19:00.000-04:00

Cakes. Yum.

Decorated by monkeys. Even Yumm-er.

Happy Friday!

Visit more Fun Mom Friday posts by clicking here!

Fun Mom Friday

2010-08-06T09:02:00.000-04:00

This Friday begins what is for me, the best week of the year. Our family vacation.

The Head Monkey has disabled the email function on his (crack)Berry, the television is an ancient Zenith that blissfully! no one can work, Big, Middle, and Little spent this morning playing together and cheering on Little as he begins to crawl and our only major decisions include when we should head out to the beach and on which day will we get Pronto Pups.

If you haven't had a Pronto Pup, I pity you. You haven't fully lived.

Ahead of us lies swimming, walking on the beach,reading, playing, chatting, laughing, seeing old, treasured friends and just BEING TOGETHER.

Here is the sign that leads us to the beach:

Happy Friday from Heaven.

And, Happy Anniversary to one of my favorite couples! Susan and Chris. . . congratulations! So happy that we get to see you and your gorgeous children on this very FUN FRIDAY!

Check out Susan's very creative blog here.
Check out how other moms are bringing the FUN into their lives here.

Fun Mom Friday

2010-07-30T18:43:00.000-04:00

The inside joke. Got any in your family? Two of my monkeys are just now old enough to enjoy (and remember!) these funny little nuggets. These bits of funny are often nonsensical, but pants-wetting hilarious when they reenter a scene. Especially in unexpected ways---like when a cheeky monkey comes out with the well-timed, in context, WOMBAT bit of funny.

An inside joke has brought the fun in a BIG way this week. And the phrase that sends us over the edge? That sends us into fits of giggles? That turns cheeky monkeys into howler monkeys?

FANNY CRACK!!

Yes. You read that correctly. I never said we were mature. But we do find ourselves immensely funny.

Happy Friday.

Visit here to see other Fun Mom Friday posts!

Victory: In Music and Photos

2010-07-26T19:45:00.000-04:00

Welcome to the sights and sounds of my latest attempt at the great bread quest. Enjoy the musical accompaniment as you view the stunning images.

Take THAT, Wonder Bread.

The dough

The quintessential
HOMEMADE
white sandwich loaf

The crumb

The taste test

French toast

Peanut butter and jelly

The Noble BLT

Watch out, Roman Meal. You're next.

But it WASN'T Spilt Milk!

2010-07-24T16:49:00.000-04:00

Remember that book that we've all read to various monkeys a million times? It Looked Like Spilt Milk? An excerpt for your reading pleasure. . .

It looked like spilt milk. But it wasn't spilt milk.
It looked like a cow. But it wasn't a cow.
It looked like a donkey. But it wasn't a donkey.
It was just a cloud in the sky.

You get the idea. Well, here is a variation on that theme.

Bread Quest Style.

I thought it was the recipe. But it wasn't the recipe.
I thought it was the yeast. But it wasn't the yeast.
I thought it was the temperature of my oven. But it wasn't the temperature of my oven.

Drat.

I know it is not a cloud in the sky. I THINK it might be the inexperience of the baker.

Fear not, Wise Woman. I will not relent.

The next variable to be contained. . .

I thought it was using the mixer instead of my hands.

Hmm. Stay tuned.

Fun Mom Friday

2010-07-22T23:09:00.000-04:00

I have such fun all week thinking about what I will post on Fun Mom Friday. Thanks to Moriah for hosting this at her fun blog, Please Pass the Salt.

This was a terrific week---one of those rare weeks when we did not have a jam-PACKED schedule that had monkeys hurling themselves in fifteen different directions. Very relaxed, spontaneous, and unfrenzied-like. We had simple fun, lots of good old-fashioned monkey play time. Big and Middle built a fort for Little and they happily played in it each morning. We swam for a little bit each day. We baked, chatted, read, and laughed. We drank a lot of tea and ate a fair amount of junk. Fun was had by all.

But the best part? The big fun in our simple week?

Yup. I downloaded Alvin and the Chipmunks songs onto my iPod.
And everytime they asked to listen, I SAID YES.

I said yes 1,658,432 times.

And those chipmunks can't get outta my head.

Happy Friday.

Wonder Bread: 2, The Wrangler: 0

2010-07-21T20:43:00.000-04:00

Drat! Foiled again.

Blerg.

Eureka!

2010-07-20T20:23:00.001-04:00

Breaking news from the bread quest. . .

I HAVE BEEN USING THE WRONG YEAST!

Things are looking up! Literally. Up. Like bread rising up. Because it's all coming together now. Or as a student once told me, "NOW you're cooking with gas!" Actually, making yeasty gas. . .

Can I get a WOOT?

Watch out, Wonder Bread. I'm on your heels. Get it? Heels?

From Skeptic to Convert

2010-07-19T21:26:00.001-04:00

I am not fond of fads. Especially those that capture the hearts, minds, and precarious financial positions of little monkeys. When I hear these monkeys squeal that the faddish item they have just bought/traded/swapped/found in the parking lot at Target are RARE or even better, ultra rare, I run out of sight as quickly as possible to indulge in a gesture that is expressly forbidden in my house, but is oh so satisfying. . .

THE MASSIVE EYE ROLL.

Come on, friends. You know what I am talking about. They go on playdates. They are an endless source of arguments. They are hanging around your kids' wrists up to their elbows. Their rooms look like a graveyard of busted up strings of neon. Your dog is choking on them. You find them in the laundry, when you vacuum the car, and IN YOUR BED. They are the newest illustration for the word ubiquitous. They are SILLY BANDZ.

Like the tolerant tee hee Wrangler that I am, I allowed my monkeys to use their spending money to buy some of these bandz. (As an aside, can't we at least spell bandz correctly? Must we promote sheep-like behavior AND poor spelling simultaneously?)

The Big has carefully honed his collection, like the curator of the Silly Bandz Museum. They are coordinated by color, traded with much care and thought, and rarely worn lest they break. Characteristically, the Middle has worn his collection every day. He is down to one. One band.

And me? I have been riding out the storm. Watching and waiting for it to pass. Knowing that the days of the Silly Bandz are numbered, just like jelly shoes and friendship pins and the Swatch watches of yesteryear. I am above all this. I have outgrown it.

Or so I thought.

Big and I played a friendly game of tennis today. It was hot. It was heated. And then, Big took it up a notch.

"How about a bet? If I win the next game, we'll go get Rita's. If you win the next game, I'll give you a Silly Band."

"Your golden retriever? Or your chihuahua?"

"No, those are ultra rare. But I will give you a dog."

My ears perked up. I felt strangely excited. I had not a Band to call my own. And now I could get one from the Band Miser if I win a teeny little tennis game?

It was on.

And to the victor go the spoils.

I love my little doggie. But I would definitely give him up for a sparkly four leaf clover, because those are ultra ultra rare.

P.S. Big and I also went to Rita's, because I am a gracious winner.

Fun Mom Friday

2010-07-16T19:47:00.001-04:00

I admit. I was not super fun this week. I was cranky, crabby, and sleep deprived. My attempts at fun were hampered by someone (not just me!) having a foul attitude.

So, I was befuddled by what to post. Should I talk about our failed attempt at fun at Tutti Frutti? Or our snuggle reading time that ended in an argument? Or how I put a kibosh on bike riding in favor of cleaning?

To quote Carrie Bradshaw, I couldn't help but wonder. . . .

DID I DO ANYTHING FUN FOR THESE MONKEYS AT ALL THIS WEEK? ANYTHING??

And then, it occurred to me. I may not have done anything that could be classified as fun for all this week. BUT, I made a choice earlier this summer that has brought this hoard of cheeky monkeys and their mama some BIG FUN.

MEET WILBER.

Wilber is the class pet of my boys' science teacher. After considerable begging, debating, and cajoling, I agreed to let Wilber live with us this summer. Even against the advice of the Wise Woman, who declared that Wilber was likely going to become a treat for our dog Tuck.

Wilber is fun to watch. He is fun to talk to----I mean AT. And he is a great conversation piece. While I may not be bringing the fun in a big way this week, I did agree to bring Wilber home. For this mama, that IS bringing the fun, baby.

Wonder Bread: 1 The Wrangler: 0

2010-07-15T13:22:00.000-04:00

I am a wrangler on a mission. Those I live with believe it cannot be done. Others scoff at my quest. I will not be dissuaded. I will prevail. You all are the witnesses to this declaration. . .

I WILL bake a loaf of bread that my family shall
HAPPILY use for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or die trying.

The Wise Woman asked, "Why do this when you can get bread that perfectly meets their specifications for $1.99 at the grocery store?"

A reasonable question from a reasonable woman. My reasons are threefold:

If Julia can do it, so can I. (If you don't know who Julia is, know that somewhere I am swooning with embarrassment on your behalf).
I am a stubborn cuss of a woman who cannot BELIEVE that her family would prefer store-bought, processed, artificial, high-fructose corn syruped, stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth goo when they can have something fresh, delicious and REAL.
Because. I want to. That's why.

The quest began a year ago. I have been attempting bread machine recipes, light whole wheat recipes, you name it. Nothing, so far, has fit the rigid criteria that these people I live with have for their sandwiches. They desire bread that. . .

contains no nuts, obvious grains, or any overtly "healthy stuff"
has a light, spongy texture
has a subtle flavor that is not overly "wheaty"
has a crust, just not one that's hard or crusty (seriously??)
has the shape of store-bought bread

In short, these cheeky monkeys want WONDER BREAD. And that ain't happenin'.

I have done my research. I have gathered my tools.

I made my first attempt.

Doesn't look too bad, but. . .

Blech.

I may be down,
but I'm not out.

Stay tuned.

Noble Pursuits

2010-07-12T13:36:00.000-04:00

To be certain, there are many pursuits that could be considered noble. To me, two of the most noble pursuits include reading and baking.

When these two pursuits are combined, that makes for one happy monkey wrangler.

I have been enjoying Gesine Bullock-Prado's memoir My Life From Scratch: A Sweet Journey of Starting Over, One Cake at a Time. It is full of interesting, delicious recipes and chronicles how one woman finds joy every day by playing with butter and sugar. The writing is sharp, witty, and honest. I highly recommend it.

Gesine and I both feel the same way about baking and what it does for our overall happiness. Baking is not about being recognized by others for making something delicious. . . .it is the act of baking itself that soothes the baker. But. . . along with feeling soothed? You get sticky buns.

Check out Gesine's blog on my blogroll: Confections of a Closet Master Baker

And those sticky buns? Delicious. And this baker? Soothed.

Fun Mom Friday

2010-07-09T11:03:00.000-04:00

My husband's cousin, Moriah, has a great blog that chronicles her life with her adorable children. I have enjoyed reading Moriah's sensible, loving, and FUN posts for several months.

Check her out at www.pleasepassthesalt.net or look for her on my blogroll.

Moriah is the creator of. . .

FUN MOM FRIDAY

as a way for us moms to stop for a moment and think about how we brought the fun this week.

This week, my family has been vacationing with dear friends at the beach (who have four cheeky monkeys of their own). Each day we spend the morning at the beach, have a short inside break in the heat of the day, and then close out our day by the pool.

This year I thought it would be fun to have snow cones EVERYDAY. By the pool. BIG FUN for cheeky monkeys!

There are six kids old enough to eat snow cones, so each day I choose a "trusty assistant" to determine the favors being offered, solicit the orders, and deliver snow cones to his/her friends. The benefit of being the trusty assistant? You get EXTRA syrup. Yum.

And I begin. . .

2010-07-08T15:47:00.000-04:00

As a mom of three very busy little monkeys, I decided it was high time to have a "room of my own," so to speak. Welcome to my room. . . filled with things I want to discuss and want to remember. Like today. I am listening to my littlest monkey happily waking up from his morning nap, while watching my husband and the two bigs play together in the ocean. And I have just finished a cup of tea while spending a quiet morning browsing blogs and doing some online shopping for baking supplies. Baking. . . a very noble pursuit!

Ah, bliss. Life is good. Welcome to my world of wrangling monkeys and other noble pursuits.