Archive for 2012

How did Santa survive before the Interwebs?

Posted 10 Dec 2012 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, I am awesome, motherhood, other people are awesome, retail therapy, The Hubs

On Saturday, the Hubs, Abby and I headed to the blessed Mall of America to do some Christmas shopping. As with any trip to the MOA, we are required (by unwritten law) to take Abby on three rides, at minimum. She talks about these rides pretty much every other day. It’s adorable, but also CAN I GO TO THE MALL WITHOUT GOING ON RIDES? After the rides, we headed to Noodles for Abby’s mac & cheese fix. As we were leaving with full bellies, I went to hike up my jeans, and hulk smashed the belt loop right out of my pants. DAMMIT. Strike one.

We wove our way through shoppers and some of the best people watching I’ve seen since the state fair. We searched through Nordstrom Rack for a gift for my mom, then made our way to Marshall’s and decided we’d had enough of the crowds already thankyouverymuch. It was at our decision to depart that I realized my jacket wasn’t on the stroller anymore. Dear God. Strike TWO. My angry meter had reached about a 9. We backtracked and eventually made our way back to the Rack, where I walked through the areas Abby insisted on pushing the stroller. BY HERSELF, Mama. No! Don’t touch it! I’m doing it BY MYSELF. Aye. Lo and behold, my coat was laying across a rack; apparently someone found it and propped it up. THANK GOD.

We headed home, where I decided to go ahead and get this shopping over and done with. AMAZON, I love you. Santa’s purchases have been made, as well as some other gifts that needed to be in my hands.

(In case you’re wondering what Santa’s got in his sack this year (ha, ha. sack.), we bought Abby a Peppa Pig DVD, some Crayola Washable Mini-Stampers (this kid needs to stamp all the things all the time), Hungry Hungry Hippos, Melissa & Doug Pasture Pals, LeapFrog Explorer Learning Game: Letter Factory (for her LeadPad we bought her last Christmas), LEGO DUPLO Creative Cakes (a Lego cake set? YES PLEASE.), and for the grand finale…a Playskool Classic Sit – N – Spin. SIT. AND. SPIN.) none of those links are affiliate or anything. just an FYI.

ALL of those things I purchased on the Amazon. And I hope all of those things come before Christmas.

I nearly struck-out on holiday shopping. However, I think I’m going to put this year’s attempt on the win list.

Unease.

8 Comments

Posted 04 Dec 2012 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category house stuffs, marriage, not so much, The Hubs

“Well, we must wait for the future to show.”
― Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

To come to a point where your dreams move away from your reach is hard.

The hubs and I have discussed putting our house on the market for months. We worked all summer on our home to prepare it to sell. When months zoomed by and it got colder and we weren’t ready yet, we decided to hold off until Spring.

We have many reasons we want to move. We need a better layout of rooms so that when the times comes that we plan for a second child (!!!), our bedrooms are on the same floor. Our neighborhood is not necessarily family friendly. I hate the schools in our district. Our main (and frankly only used) bathroom is very small. The house is over 80 years old. I want to feel safe walking out after dark.

But really, it’s the bedroom thing that’s got me wanting to move. We have two bedrooms on the main floor, and our finished attic acts as a third bedroom. A third bedroom with stairs so steep that we struggled to get a full size bed through the doorway. Meaning: I don’t think we could get a queen size bed up there. If we have a second child – I don’t want that baby or Abby being upstairs while the rest of us are down. The attic doesn’t maintain a comfortable temperature in the winter OR summer. To me, I have a hard time making this house work with a second child.

And talks of that second child have begun.

Unfortunately, realizations of how much debt we’ve accumulated have also come to light.

In this equation, our plan of moving out of this house (which has contributed to our mounting debt) have in essence been shut down because of our debt.

It is our own fault. I knew eventually this would happen. Denial is a powerful thing.

And now? I can’t allow myself to accept this as fact.

“If the market were different, we’d sell our house for a profit instead of breaking even, and we could pay off that debt.”

“Maybe we’ll win the lottery.”

“This isn’t a huge deal-breaker. We can still get a mortgage.”

When I think about it enough, my heart breaks hard and I nearly start to cry. To me, moving was a step towards the future, and I don’t want to put my dreams on hold. I want to know everything will still fall into place. That the choices we made in the past are not totally destroying our dreams for the future.

This is not the end of the world. If push comes to shove, we can make this house work. Knowing that we’ll be paying for our financial mistakes instead of living our lives in a new home? Hurts. Like. Hell.

Wake up, wake up, wake up (it’s the first of the month)

No Comments

Posted 03 Dec 2012 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category blog bidnass, please and thank you, posting on-the-go

Jesus Christ on a pogo-stick. How is it that I only ever manage to post once a month around these parts?

Oh, that’s right, LAUNDRYWORKCLEANINGVOMITCLEANUPLITTERBOXYARDWORKSUNDAYNIGHTTELEVISION.

*ehem*

I have many things I would like to get posted before the end of the year. I shall make a list. Lists motivate me. Most of the time.

Photos:
Abby’s 3rd birthday (YEAH THAT HAPPENED, LAY OFF ME.)
Halloween
Any and all other awesome photos.
Recaps of the last 2 years.
I know, HOLY SHIT, right? But seriously. I did this two years ago for Abby and I really want them for every year of her on this planet. So…I need to do this.
MOAR BLOGGING PERIOD.
I mean, not blogging about my period (don’t get me started) – but just more blogging. Get into the routine. You know, LIKE IT’S MY (3rd…no 4th) job.

Alright, I know this post was more for me than it was for you, but let’s pretend this was something solid. Kay? Thanks.

(While you’re here – you can check out my latest post over at Mamapop!)

The Pot Roast

6 Comments

Posted 08 Nov 2012 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category I am a moron, marriage, motherhood

Hi there. Long time no see. You look thin. Let me make you something.

But maybe not a pot roast.

Monday, I worked from home. It was lovely. I mean, I struggled a bit with the whole working thing. (Eventually I got some work done.) Around 3pm or so, it was time for me to peel some potatoes and throw some carrots and meat into the Crock Pot I had just purchased that morning. I was going to make my first pot roast.

Let me stop here. How well do you know me? If you know me well, you know that I’m no chef. At all. Occasionally I luck out and make something and it’s awesome. My first time shot at a new recipe? It’s questionable, but usually edible. I figure out what I could have done better, and if I make it again, it usually is. In between all this “cooking” I do? I don’t cook. EVER. We eat pizza. Take-out. Spaghetti and store-bought sauce. Chicken nuggets. I’m not winning any parenting awards here. WE GET BY. I’ll repeat – I. DON’T. COOK. Full stop.

So, this past weekend, when I knew I was going to be home during the day, I figure now’s as good a time as any to try my hand at slow-cooking…Crock Pot style. I grab my spice packet from the Target bag, follow the directions (slice veggies and throw into pot, add meat, then combine spice packet + 1 cup water, pour over veggies and meat) and place the cover on the pot. There’s a four or eight hour cooking time options. I set the temperature, and know that when the hubs comes home from work four hours later, this place is going to smell wonderful and dinner will be served. Wife/Mom of the year? STEP RIGHT UP.

(I know that most of you probably do this shit at least twice a week and no one bats an eye. This seriously was like, a huge deal for me. No joke.)

I leave to pick up Abby an hour and a half later, and I can’t smell anything yet. I figure…it’s still got two and a half hours left. It’ll smell good soon. We get back, we play a bit…and I realize I’m still not smelling anything. I check the pot, without removing the cover. (See? I can follow directions!) It’s cooking, but…not what I would expect it would look like. Yet, I question nothing.

Seven o’clock rolls around. The hubs will be home in a half hour. Suddenly…a moment of clarity. Four hours on low. Four hours. On low. That doesn’t make any sense if there’s an eight hour option. Is there a lower setting than low? No. OH CHRIST ON A CRACKER I EFFING SET THE TEMPERATURE WRONG.

I dig the spice packet out of the trash and sure enough: “8 hours on low, 4 hours on high.” See what I did there? Let me show you: “8 hours on LOW 4 HOURS on high.”

All I could do was laugh at this point. I have a half hour to cook a roast another 4 hours. We’ll be eating at 11:30pm.

I managed to fuck up a crock pot recipe. It’s like…fate.

We ate spaghetti that night.

I took the pot out of the cooker around 8:30pm. Let it cool a bit and threw it in the fridge. I’d try again last night. I let it cook (longer maybe than needed but at this point it could only help me) but we still didn’t eat it because ELECTION NIGHT PIZZA WINE PANICCCCCC, but before bed I put it all into a plastic tub and threw it in the fridge. For tonight.

I put some on a plate for Abbers, heated it in the microwave for one minute. When it was done, I tried to cut it up into pieces for her – I swear that meat was so tough it’d kick all your teeth in before the fork passed your lips. TOTALLY inedible. The potatoes and carrots were alright but WHAT THE FLYING FUCK.

I seriously would love to pick up the entire Crock Pot and throw it out the window into the backyard where I could only hope that the squirrels would somehow find a way to make that thing their collective bitch.

(See how I’m mad at the Crock Pot? Like it’s the appliance’s fault I’m a moron?)

Ugh.

We ate frozen spring rolls for dinner tonight.

Please don’t call CPS.

(Side note – did you hear Dax Shepard & Kristen “Sloth” Bell are expecting their first?)