playgroupsarenoplaceforchildren

I was just thinking recently how parenting is getting so much BETTER as they get older are farther away from babyhood.  In the past few weeks, I’ve actually been able to reason with Ella.

“Ella if you behave, I’ll give you a cookie.”

“Okay!  I be good, Mama.”

And guess what?  She WAS good.

I walked around feeling like I had finally gotten this parenting thing down pat.  “I’m pretty good at this parenting thing!” I thought to myself and out loud to Tate.

“You know, Tate, I feel like our kids have gotten so easy.  They REALLY listen to me!  It’s been like, a whole week and neither child has been in time out!”

He looked at me like I was an alien with a palm tree growing out of my chin.  “What about that time you called me last week when they were wreaking havoc?  Or this morning when you told me that you had to put them in their rooms for their own safety?”

So maybe it had only been about six hours, but SIX WHOLE HOURS of my children behaving feels like a week.

It seems like we get on a roll where the kids are behaving, or at least their misbehavior isn’t that damaging to my psyche that I’m left scarred for months afterwards.  Right now, though, we’re on the Deluxe Triple Salchow of OUT OF CONTROL BEHAVIOR roll.  Damaged psyche ahead!

It’s awesome, as I’m sure you can imagine.

The mall and it’s germ-infested play area is where the downward spiral first began.  Ella, being Ella and very much three-years-old, threw the tantrum to end all tantrums.  It was the type of tantrum that had all the perfect parents judging me with their evil looks and perfectly behaved children.  She was screaming and thrashing and I was sweating and silently screaming the f-word in my head.

I wanted to ask the perfect moms, “How do you propose I get her to stop screaming?  Seriously!!  I’m politely asking her, I’m threatening to take away everything that was or ever will be meaningful to her, I’m kicking myself for failing to pack duct tape.  What can I doooooooo?!?”

Carson, who is four and who I was certain had passed the fall on the floor tantrum stage, threw his own mega tantrum within a few hours of Ella’s.  Luckily it was in the privacy of our home, not in front of other’s prying eyes.  BUT STILL, it was a tantrum that no amount of reasoning, ignoring, redirecting, or any other textbook behavior management technique worked to just make him stop.

It’s been like this for about two weeks now, with only a few hours respite and sunshine in between their outbursts.  I’m starting to believe there is something really wrong with my children.  Surely it’s not just my kids that act this way???  Please?

They are thisclose to getting shipped off to a far away land that’s FAR AWAY.

And I vow to never verbalize or even think any thoughts where I extol the virtues of my parenting skills ever again.

“Mama, wait.  Don’t take a picture.  I don’t have all my Silly Bandz on.  I’m not cool yet.”  –Ella, Age 3 (going on 13)

Today Tate and I celebrate our nine year anniversary.

On the morning of July 14, 2001, I woke up very early, unable to go back to sleep due to the anticipation of this long awaited day. I went down to the hotel lobby to have breakfast. My dad happened to be in the lobby, so he and I ate breakfast together. Sitting there with just my dad before my big day is one of my favorite memories.

Later that morning, I saw my grandpa. He asked me if I knew that July 14th was also my grandmother’s birthday, she’d passed away when I was just a young child. I hadn’t known that our wedding date was also her birthday, making the day that much more special.

My dress made me feel like a princess. I wish I had a reason to wear it again.

When the doors of the church opened, Tate looked like he was going to cry. I’ve asked him many times since if it was because of my breathtaking beauty or his nerves…of course, he always answers correctly. It was all I could do not to ugly cry as I walked down the aisle.

At our reception, I told the DJ that I did not want to hear any music by AC/DC or Rush, because I detest those bands. It didn’t matter if one of the reception guests requested to hear one of their songs, he was supposed to tell them that he’d add it to his list but then never get to it. He respected my wishes. Smart DJ.

We served a buffet dinner, which sadly I barely remember. I know I ate, I know that we had prime rib, but I don’t even recall if it was good. So sad to not even remember the food. I love reminiscing about food. What’s even more sad though, is that I only got one bite of wedding cake. I told Tate prior to the wedding that if he smeared cake in my face, he’d pay dearly. Tate respected my wishes. Smart Tate.

We decided that getting a limo to drive us to our hotel where we’d spend our wedding night would be silly. To save money, my mom drove us to our hotel. I remember laughing as she dropped us off, knowing what we were getting ready to go do for the VERY FIRST TIME. *ahem*

Tate carried me over the threshold. Thinking about that still makes my heart flutter.

I ate a Wendy’s double hamburger with everything except onions for lunch with my hair all made up in my veil.

A wedding is just one day out of a marriage, but ours was a wonderful day to begin our marriage. I had no doubt in my mind that I was making the right choice. I still have no doubt that Tate is my one and only.

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Originally published two years ago with seven memories, for our seventh anniversary and last year with eight memories.

This is Ella.

She is not the daughter I expected to have. When I was pregnant with her, I’d imagine her in all the little girls I saw everywhere. I just knew she’d be blond, with long, straight hair. She’d carry a little purse and wear smocked dresses and bows.  My daughter would be dainty and clean.

That is not Ella.

She’ll wear dresses, but only if I beg, plead, and force her. Bows stay in her hair, on a good day, for twenty minutes. Usually I find them on the floor, minutes after combing through her nest of golden caramels curls.  Ella’s favorite accessory is dirt.

Princesses?  Ella thinks they are just pretty decorations on her underwear.  She doesn’t understand why she can’t have Thomas the Train panties.

I signed her up for a little dance class, but what she desperately wants to do is play t-ball. At Dollywood, she doesn’t understand why she can’t ride the roller coaster. Ella is my fearless baby.

I’m always having to tell her, “when you’re bigger, Sweet Pea, then it will be your turn.”

I don’t miss the daughter that I imagined her to be.  To me, she is perfect.

Ella, please always be who you are.  Walk your own walk.  Mommy and Daddy love you.  YOU.

I still wear my maternity jean skirt.  I haven’t been pregnant in three years.

Other confession:  I’d still wear my super cute maternity jeans but they no longer fit because they are TOO SMALL.

We took the kids out on the lake for the first time.

After a few hours of swimming, it was time for lunch and I pulled out the sandwiches I’d packed in the cooler.  Carson began eating his sandwich and exclaimed, “Mom!  This is a great sandwich!  Can you make these lake sandwiches again, sometime?!”  As he ate, he kept proclaiming the deliciousness of the “lake sandwiches” I prepared.

He liked his so much that he ate Tate’s sandwich, too.

Since Carson was such a fan, I thought I’d share the very special recipe for the Lake Sandwiches.

Sliced ham, swiss cheese, mustard, and bibb lettuce between two slices of whole wheat bread.  Pack in a cooler.  Swim in the lake for two hours and become ravenously hungry.  Eat the sandwich, but fail to recognize it as the exact sandwich you’ve eaten two to three times per week for probably the last three years.  Voila!

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted a recipe since I haven’t made anything worth sharing in a while.  We’ve been eating a lot of grilled meat with a microwaved vegetable side dish, nothing worthy of a recipe or even a photograph.

This week, since getting home from Missouri, I’ve had a hankerin’ for fancy, time intensive meals.  (See also:  time away from the children while they sit in front of the TV, hypnotized and silent.)

Our dinner last night was truly a masterpiece.  Sure I’ve probably said that about things I’ve cooked before, but I’m just not creative enough to come up with anymore descriptive terms.

I made Involtini Di Pollo with Limone Sauce and Linguini Alla Trapanese.  Sounds pretty fancy, huh?  Well it was!  And worth every minute of the hour and half it took me to prepare it.  It could have just as easily been called Prosciutto and cheese stuffed chicken breasts with a lemon sauce, and Linguini tossed with garlic and cherry tomatoes.  Actually, now that I think about it, that sounds pretty fancy, too.

(See how mine looks almost exactly like the one in the picture!  La ti da for me!)

Recipe from the Summer 2010 issue of Everybody Cooks, a magazine published by Dierbergs grocery store in St. Louis.

Involtini Di Pollo

1 C Italian seasoned bread crumbs
3-4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1/4 C grated parmesan cheese
6-8 thinly sliced prosciutto
6-8 thinly sliced mozzarella
1 large tomato, seeded and diced

Slice each chicken breast in half, horizontally.  Remove any extra fat.  Place chicken between plastic wrap and pound until it’s a 1/4 inch thick.  Place bread crumbs in a dish, lightly coat each chicken breast with bread crumbs.

Take each chicken breast and top with a slice of prosciutto, mozzarella, tomato, and parmesan cheese.  At the narrow end of the chicken, carefully roll each chicken breast to hold the filling.  Secure with wooden toothpicks.

Grill the chicken over medium-high heat for 5-7 minutes per side, or until the internal temperature reaches 165 degrees.  Once cooked, allow to rest, then slice and drizzle Limone Sauce over.

Limone Sauce

Juice of 2 lemons
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp fresh oregano, finely chopped
Salt & Pepper to taste
1/4 C extra virgin olive oil

Whisk together the first four ingredients.  Add oil in slowly until well blended.

Linguini Alla Trapanese

3-4 TB extra virgin olive oil
3-4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 container of grape tomatoes, halved
Salt & Pepper to taste
1 lb whole grain Linguini
1 tsp dried basil
1/4 C grated parmesan

Cook linguini according to package directions.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Add garlic and cook for 30 seconds.  Don’t let it burn!  Add tomatoes and cook for 4 minutes, reduce heat to Low.  Add the basil, and salt and pepper to taste.  Once the linguini is cooked and drained, add the linguini to the skillet and toss with the tomatoes and garlic.   Sprinkle with parmesan cheese.

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I know I said it took awhile to prepare, but don’t let that scare you!  It was easy and tasted better than anything you could get in a restaurant.  Make it tonight.  DO IT.

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I don’t know what got into me today, it must have been that delicious dinner last night, but I also wrote about our trip to the Titanic Museum in Pigeon Forge, TN.  Three recipes in one day PLUS a post about the Titanic Museum.  I am out of control!

Read all about it here!