I've had a long, tiring week and wanted to wind down and watch some t.v.   Baby Duck wanted to join me, which seriously limited my grown-up options.  I couldn't bear the thought of any more children's television tonight, and after exhausting all On-Demand possibilities I settled on a show that mentioned it would be talking about making a Barbie cake.  I figured it would at least catch Baby Duck's attention for a minute or two.  That show, on the Fine Living Network, is called "Whatever, Martha!"  and features two women providing entertaining commentary on segments from "Martha Stewart Living".  
    I don't know what I was having more fun with:  the two women making major fun of Martha and her Barbie cake, or the fact that my four-year-old daughter announced after a few minutes that she "really likes this show".  She even wanted to see what they were going to do after the commercial and continued to enjoy the show after they had moved on from Barbie cakes to a tutorial on the different kinds of tape available to the public.
    I giggled a bit to myself when the redheaded host started making comments to the blonde host that in some way teased her about Martha being her mom.  It was then that I had to get online and find out for myself, and sure enough it was true!  How awesome is that?!?  The blonde host is Alexis Stewart, biological fruit of the original Domestic Engineer's loins!  Fabulous!  Or shall I say, "It's a good thing"?

CL

    Okay, so, first it was Ed McMahon.  He was 86.  He had bone cancer.  It was sad, but not shocking.  I had been expecting it for quite some time, actually-- enough to be surprised he was well enough to do that Super Bowl "Cash4Gold" commercial.  By the way, did you see that?  It was awesome: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRVzF9dBl7c&feature=related.  I thought it was cool that he could spin his financial woes into something positive.
    Then went Farrah Fawcett.  She was quite a bit younger-- only 62-- and also had cancer.  It was too bad that people close to her had so much drama going on toward the end of her life, but at least when the final chapter was reached she had loved ones close by.
    And now we come to Michael Jackson.  Cardiac arrest at 50.  I really didn't want to write about him at all, which is why I had yet to acknowledge the odd string of deaths.  Yes, he was a music legend.  Yes, I think he behaved inappropriately with young children.  Yes, I hope we'll finally be able to download Beatles songs on iTunes.  I refuse to talk about a man who I believe was capable of doing the things he was accused of as a saint.  But I also can't say horrific things about a dead man, especially when I don't know that what I believe to be true actually is.  Therefore, I have nothing else to say on the topic.
    But, good grief!  Billy Mays?!?!  Also only 50.  Didn't feel well when he went to bed last night.  Maybe it had something to do with whatever hit him in the head when his plane had what was referred to as "a rough landing" (read: the front tires blew out upon landing).  Maybe it was absolutely anything else.  Who knows. 
    Point is, I'm starting to get a little creeped out.  Does this have something to do with that Mayan Doomsday Calendar winding down?  Are we all just going to start dropping dead by the fistful until there are no more of us left after December 21, 2012?  I know it can all be chalked up to the fact that, according to the CDC as of 2001, an average of well over 6,500 people die every day in the United States alone.  We just seem to have gone on a famous people streak.  I guess it just reminds me that at any given time we could go on a "People I Personally Know And Love" streak.  That would suck.  Big time.
    So, to all of my loved ones, I love you.  Now be really frakkin' careful, alright?

CL

    I was at the grocery store this evening when a very intriguing item caught my eye.  In the 'International Foods' section, I saw some cans full of what was identified in English as "Grass Jelly Drink".  Now, I'm a midwestern girl.  I know there is good reason for me to have no idea what this is.  However, in an adventurous moment I decided to put the can in my cart.  Why not take advantage of the sale to be able to honestly answer-- if ever asked-- the question, "Do you like Grass Jelly Drink?"
    I can now tell you with a great degree of certainty that neither I nor Baby Duck care for Grass Jelly Drink.    I went into the tasting as objectively as I could, seeing as how the bowl of gelatinous black cubes pictured on the front of the can didn't resemble anything I have ever found appetizing in my life.

    The ingredient list didn't do much to clarify: "water, grass jelly, sugar, honey".  Hmm.  Well, if my 4-year-old is game, so am I!  I was very proud of her for still tasting it after it came out of the can:  brown and cloudy with abundant chunks of what I was praying to God was grass jelly.  
    Chunks.  Seriously.
    
    So, anyway...  we both agreed that it was not that bad.  However, neither of us cared for any more after the second sip.  It was somewhat reminiscent of sweet tea.  I cannot stomach sweet tea.  (Apologies to my stepfather and his entire family, but sweet tea is a disgrace.)  It smells like honey and tea and grass (maybe that's just from the subliminal message the name sends).  Something about it has the faintest zing.  But I am a weenie and I can't get past the chunks.  They are semisolid and sort of bitter, so when you do get brave enough to bite into one (so you can truly say you've sampled the drink in its entirety), you are punished rather than rewarded.
    At that time, I decided to visit wikipedia in order to understand what I had just consumed.  Here is an excerpt (from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grass_jelly):  "Grass jelly is made by boiling the aged and slightly oxidized stalks and leaves of Mesona chinensis^[1] (member of the mint family) with potassium carbonate for several hours with a little starch and then cooling the liquid to a jelly-like consistency^[2]. "  It also mentions that a version in Malaysia and Singapore is full of black strands mixed with soy milk and called a 'Michael Jackson'.  I didn't fact check that, so I don't know if it's true.  Regardless, I thought it was worth contemplating.    
    As I was coming up with a rant about how confused I was by the idea that anyone could do any more than taste this on a dare, I stumbled upon a site that immediately tainted my creative flow due to it's distinctive level of humor that I could only hope to one day attain:  http://www.noapologiespress.com/presents/asiandrink/grassjelly.html.
    On that note, I need to go rinse out my mouth.

CL

     

    
    Who besides me will notice this ploy?  I don't know.  I hope quite a lot.  The only thing that got me looking in the first place was at the beginning (a month or so ago) because I bought diapers so often that I had both the price and the quantity memorized.  They changed both at once.  I used to buy-- in a size 4-- 92 diapers for $13.79.  Now it's $13.89-- for 82 diapers of the same size.
    I understand they hope we assume it's the same value, but it's a direct lie.  Now, these are fairly small and subtle changes.  Nothing different than what many have been doing since before this recession even started:  price hikes, package content downsizing, or both.  I just haven't seen anyone else deny it outright.
    I also understand manipulation.  Everyone does that.  I'm okay with endcap displays indicating a "Special Purchase".  I get that those items are still regular price.  I'm expected to 'feature' an appetizer or beverage of my choice every shift at my restaurant.  Is it on 'sale'?  No.  Do I say that it is?  No.l  I'm just picking one item I want to use the power of suggestion to really move. 
    I don't like shady people.  Some restaurants, for example, engage in the practice of asking a person what kind of dressing they want on their salad when, in fact, the meal they ordered doesn't come with a salad.  So when they answer the question by choosing a dressing, they will now be charged for adding a salad.  This is even worse than that.  It is outright chicanery!
    I especially hate the misdirection.  The new name of the brand is "Up & Up".  Obviously, they are trying to send a subliminal message of honesty.  Somebody needs to throw some Holy Water on one of those signs & watch the sucker sizzle!

CL

    Once again, I don't expect to spend much time on the computer tomorrow, so here's the Father's Day entry...
    
    On Mother's Day I shared some about my mom, so now would be a fitting time to take a little trip to the other side of my family tree and talk about my dad.  My mom and dad split up when I was very young.  This was probably a very good thing, considering I don't know if there are two more different people on the planet!  They have each found wonderful people to love and be happy with, which always seemed better to me than the idea of them staying together and fighting all the time.  They have always had one thing in common, though:  me.  Just because my dad didn't live in the same house I did growing up never meant he gave up or went away.  I was blessed enough to be able to see him regularly and he stayed involved in my life.  We have also had our share of rough times-- I think that is only natural when a very independent girl is trying to find her way to becoming a very independent woman.  But we have come through all of it to be very close-- in our relationship and our physical proximity to one another (he lives just a few blocks away).  He's always there for me whenever I need something.  We have a great time when we get together.  We're even going to take a class together this summer at the local community college in a subject of common interest for us: sculptural welding.  He has been a welder by profession for quite a few years now.  I really like power tools and love to create things with my hands.  It's going to be a blast!
    Also, I should mention what an awesome dad my husband is.  I've been working Saturday nights lately, so he has been able to spend some quality time with his girls while I'm gone.  They seem to be really settling into a routine of their own.  It's very different from the routines I have with them.  At first I felt the need to leave lists and correct 'mistakes'.  I have since learned that doing things Daddy's Way one night a week does not screw me for the rest of the week by throwing them off.  In fact, I must admit that it seems to work better that he does things differently-- less opportunity for the girls to compare us to one another, which leaves them free to just enjoy the change of pace.  Does that mean I've stopped pointing out things that I would have done differently?  Of course not.  I'm a crazy Type A control freak!  That ain't gonna change!  But I have let up quite a bit.  And everyone seems to be benefiting from it.  Don't anyone go getting any wild ideas, though.  When I'm home, it's still mostly my way or the highway.  Some of it is just too deep in my DNA.  But I plan to be very conscious of it tomorrow on E's special day.  I think he would like that.

CL

    Now that Baby Duck's ballet recital is out of the way, we are taking a break from dance to nurture other interests, like sports.  She is starting her second session of indoor soccer.  We have a very cool program near us that starts as young as 18 months.  Rather than putting toddlers and preschoolers on 'teams', it's more of a weekly skill-building class.  This time around she's old enough where they start spending the last 15-20 minutes of class scrimmaging against one another.  That's where it starts to get funny.  To see several 4-5 year olds fighting over the ball with no regard for the well-being of the other team-- or their teammates, for that matter.  I don't think they even quite get who is on their team well enough to notice when they're going after the ball.  They still play as though there can only be one winner.  Which reminds me:  I need to get tiny shin guards before Tuesday.
    I do want to mention how proud I am of Baby Duck for being tough.  You see, we arrived about 15 minutes early for class to fill out any paperwork needed.  They still had us on file from last year, though, so we ended up heading on over to her field so she could kick a ball around.  She had herself worn out and dripping with sweat before anyone else from her class even arrived.  I was just getting ready to tell her to come cool off and get a drink so she would be ready to start class when I saw her get the ball tangled up between her feet.  She flipped in the air and landed straight on her head.  She laid there dazed for a minute, then began to cry.  I went out and picked her up of the floor.  For a minute she thought she wanted to just go home.  But then we went to the bench to get a drink and her other classmates began to arrive.  She took a few deep breaths and headed back out to the field.  My little Drama Queen did not fuss once during the next hour about being in pain!  She didn't even talk about it unless her coach or I asked her if she was doing okay.  Then she would admit that it did still hurt, but that it was getting better.  I tell you, she went down hard enough to scare me, so I was amazed at what a brave face she was putting on!  
    So I am back out of my comfort zone (as I couldn't possibly be any more incapable of the skills required for organized sports) and loving it.  I truly love supporting my daughters interests because they are her own.  I really like that she is willing to try new things and not pigeon-hole herself just yet.  She has her whole life for that... but I hope she never gets around to it!

CL

    Baby Duck had a sleepover at my aunt's house last night, so I've had a rather interesting day.  It is very rare that I get to spend so much one-on-one time with Ladybug.  She's very smart and is starting to talk a lot more.  She likes to do puzzles (especially a fish one from her grandparents) and to draw.  E picked up Baby Duck's Magna Doodle and started to draw faces for her.  He named features as he went:  eyes, nose, mouth, ears, hair, teeth...  
    Once she discovered that these drawings could be erased and redone, she made him draw over and over again.  She'd say, "Eyes... moush... oh, no!  Nos!  Nos!  Uh, oh!  Teesh!" until it was done to her liking.  When E went off to do something else, I took over on the drawing.  First I showed her how I could trace around her hand.  We had fun making pictures from layers and layers of her hand in different places for a while.  Then I started drawing rudimentary pictures of things she could name so she could practice her words.  We did a ball, a dog, a duck, a shoe, a block, and a truck, among other things.  Some even were elaborated upon:  after she said dog she panted a bit.  The truck got the addition of a "beep, beep".  Some she still just identified by the sound they made (moo, neigh, meow, etc.).  I particularly enjoyed the response I got when I drew a bunny.  "Hop, hop!"  she shouted.  
    Then I decided to challenge her.  I drew a flower.  I have never heard her say "flower", nor does it make a noise.  It doesn't even have a signature action like the bunny-- what would she do?  Would she get mad and give up?  Not my Ladybug!  She looked at it and exaggerated the biggest, most dramatic sniff you can imagine!  I was quite proud of her ability to use her resources to communicate.  At this point I just got silly.  I drew a peanut butter sandwich, which you can imagine looks like little more than a lumpy square with a slight 3-D quality to it when drawn on a Magna Doodle.  She smiled, started smacking her lips, and took me to the kitchen.  She's currently enjoying her own peanut butter sandwich-- a delicious way to end our game.  I hope I get to spend time with her like this more often!

CL

    Baby Duck had her first ballet recital last night, and it was the cutest thing ever!  I must admit the dress rehearsal the day before was a bit torturous, but that was due to a combination of factors:  held during dinner, no one there with me to help corral Ladybug, four different groups of older girls performing twice in the lineup before Baby Duck's group got to perform one time, etc...
    The place in the lineup remained the same for the performance, but at least I got to feed her dinner first!  Also, I enlisted tons of help with Ladybug, so I was actually able to get everything done and even videotape the performance!  Thanks to all of you who helped both before and during the recital.  You kept me sane (relatively speaking)!
    I actually enjoyed the rest of the groups who performed as well (with one exception.  I guess I'm just not progressive enough to be prepared for the Hip Hop class of approximately 8-year-old girls dancing in such a sassy and provocative manner.  To each their own...).  I was really proud of the little girl who danced so fervently that her tap shoe went flying a good ten feet in front of her-- she just kept right on dancing for a while, then ran up and grabbed the shoe, put it back on and kept going.  And all with a smile on her face!During the next group's performance, my heart broke for the one who slipped and fell while tapping.  She got up and kept trying to dance, but she turned beet red and started to cry.  She muddled on through, God bless her.  I wanted to go give her a hug!
    Finally Baby Duck's group came out to perform dressed up as mice with pink tutus (think Angelina Ballerina).  She got so excited and waved when she found us in the second row.  Then she performed the dance beautifully and sang the words to her little song at the top of her lungs (pausing to sneak in another wave about halfway through).  After she stuck the last pose and the audience began to applaud, she stood straight up on her toes and seemed to grow about three inches.  I've never seen the child beam like that!  Apparently someone has been bitten by the stage bug!  What a far cry from two days ago when she was very apprehensive about having such a large audience watching her.  We surprised her with flowers afterward and she lit up with pleasure again.  I believe I have a little performer on my hands!

CL

    I wish my scanner was working so I could show you proof of my claims here, but it isn't.  Also, I was unable to unearth this booklet anywhere on the internet for reference.  I guess you'll just have to take my word for it.
    My in-laws bought me a Kohl's/Food Network immersion blender for my birthday because they know I enjoy a good kitchen gadget.  I have enjoyed using it thus far, but I have to admit that the misleading nature of the instruction booklet has caused me some grief in deciding what tasks it is best suited for.  A few examples:
    On the cover is a photograph of a person holding the immersion blender directly over a saucepan on the stove.  On page 2: Important Safeguards, #13: "Do not use on a stove or place on or near a hot stove or heated oven."  On page 9: "Use your immersion blender with the whisk attachment for dishes that need lots of whisking while on the stove-- custards, dessert sauces, creamy chocolate ganaches for truffles or cakes, or gravies."  
    Also in the 'Important Safeguards' on page 2, #11: "When mixing liquids, especially hot liquids, use a tall container or make small quantities at a time to reduce spillage."  Move on to page 5: assembly & use, under the subsection 'Hints for Using Your Immersion Blender': "Do not us to blend hot foods."  Back to page 9: "It's also great for cold or hot soups, salad dressings, or individual smoothies."  The last five pages of the book are recipes, including three soups and a marinara sauce-- all of which involve using the tool on hot foods.
    Next, we come back to 'assembly & use' on page 5: "This appliance is not intended to chop ice.  Add ice to beverage after blending."  Skipping to page 9, we find this immersion blender is "...indispensable in any chef's kitchen.  It can be used for anything you'd use a blender for without the need for extra cleanup."  Hmm... I have a button specifically designated for chopping ice on my blender; don't you?
    So I'm a bit unsure as to whether this has limitless possibilities or is just meant for stirring chocolate milk.  To be fair, it is a fun tool and I haven't broken it yet, so...
    
    But I also have to point out as a side note that, like the rest of us at one time or another, the editor of this booklet was foiled by 'Spell Check'.  On page 2, #9, I am instructed to "Keep hands and utensils out of container while bending to prevent the possibility of severe injury to persons or damage to the unit."  While this is likely a true statement, I believe it paints a far more interesting visual picture than the author ever intended.  So remember, if you drop something while operating this unit, only squatting is permitting for retrieval.  No bending!!

CL

    I've gotten myself into a predicament that I don't know how to get out of.

    About two weekends ago, E was overwhelmed with things to do, including yard work.  (Now, yard work is the only task that is absolutely, exclusively belongs to him.  I do laundry, I vacuum, I take out the garbage.  I don't do yard work.)  I wanted to lift his sour mood and lighten the burden, so I told him that if he would teach me how to work the mower, I would finish the rest so he could get a drink and figure out what else he needed to do.  I made sure to let him know that me knowing how to work the mower did not mean it had suddenly become a shared chore.  This was to be a one time event.
    Then he had to spend a week out of town-- not returning until late at night on his own birthday.  So when I looked outside and saw the grass had taken quite a growth spurt, I thought about how disheartening it would be for him to return home from such a long week with a backlog of work to do here at home.  I figured it would be a nice birthday treat for him to come back to a lawn that had already been mowed.  At the expense of my shoulder (so unaccustomed to the jerking movement required to start the sucker up several times), I got it done.  When he arrived home, he noticed that the grass had been cut right away-- in the pitch dark at 11:00 p.m.!  I was very glad to make him happy...
    But I do have to admit that I am terribly afraid of this can of worms I have opened.  I have now made it possible to visualize me out there doing the mowing when, in fact, it was a chore of monumental proportions.  You see, even though I waited to do it until the blazing heat of the day so that Ladybug would be down for her nap and not need caring for, I still had Baby Duck to contend with.  I am frightfully neurotic at times, and let me tell you I was flipping out with visions of her losing one of her big ol' size 12 feet to the rusty beast I was propelling across the lawn every time she came outside to shout the meaning of life to me (or some other extremely important gem that I couldn't possibly make out even one syllable of on account of the body-shaking roar of the motor in front of me).  In the backyard she insisted on waving her pretty-streamer-on-a-stick toy that she calls a kite to direct me back and forth.  By the time I was done without incident, I was quite sure that as I put it away in the shed that thing was going to growl itself awake and take my foot as a sacrifice to appease this--this carnivore forced to endure a mostly vegetarian diet punctuated by the occasional protein-filled anthill.  Would you believe I actually got back into my house without losing a limb?  I was shocked and relieved, to say the least!  
    So, seriously, after all that I must reiterate:  I don't do yard work.

CL