Fun Mom Friday

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.

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Victory: In Music and Photos

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!

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

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

Drat! Foiled again.

Blerg.

Eureka!

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

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

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

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:

1. 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).
   
2. 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.
3. 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

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

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. . .

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.