Hell=Pumpkins and Disneyland

Think what you want to think about me.

Blame it on my childhood. Blame it on what I must really look like on the inside. Blame it on creepy clowns.

I don’t like fairs. I don’t want to go to Disneyland or fake wave water parks. And I also think the pumpkin patch on a warm Fall day might as well be a trip to a post office in Ecuador.

Ever been to a post office in Ecuador? How about Mexico? I’m going to go ahead and generalize about all post offices in Central and South America. There is no such thing as a line. There are too many people stressed about a simple non-emergency task like buying stamps. There aren’t enough employees and none of them like their job.

That’s like the pumpkin patch on a warm Fall day in Seattle. People are stressed about getting the pumpkin of their kids’ dreams. It must be round, and stable on its base, and big enough to carve the design of their kids’ dreams. There aren’t enough wheel barrows for the crowds of pumpkin pickers. Job satisfaction among pumpkin patch cashiers is low. And, while lines exist, they are ridiculously long and the people waiting in them loudly point out when you have entered the line in the middle, not the end. Infrastructure is lacking too. You can’t tell if you are in the line to get roasted corn, weigh your stupid gourd, buy leeks, send a package, or pick up mail from a PO Box.

We went to Carpinito Brothers Farm in Kent, instead of our usual South 47 Street Farm in Redmond, because we also had to go to IKEA which was in the same vicinity. We went from the pumpkin patch to IKEA. I needed a drink by the time we left the IKEA parking lot. If we vote Yes to initiative 1100, IKEA will likely start selling Swedish beer. That would help. 

It was a truly beautiful day. The kids found some lovely pumpkins. We paid $19 to do a corn maze. And we never got our hands on a wheel barrow, so we had to lug our 50 lbs of squash through the crowds all by ourselves.

 

I’m only smiling on the outside. The same is NOT true for Finn. He was definitely smiling from head to hoof.

Finn got his head stuck in his ghost. I took the shot, we all walked away, and then noticed Finn wasn’t with us. Steve discovered him struggling to free his head of the cutout.

Even after all that effort, we still had to buy some pumpkins from the underground parking lot at Whole Foods. What irony.

Slainte

Slainte: A common drinking toast in Ireland. Literally translates as “health”.

So, us Irish aren’t really drunks, we are just happy about our health and we celebrate it often and abundantly.

As promised to Katie (who’s blog I can no longer link to because she made it private and it is so annoying because I have to login every time I want to see if she posted anything new), and a few others who want to lead a “simplier” life, here is the recipe for the Vodka Punch from the Pumpkin Carving Party which I will someday get around to posting about.

I made half this volume and had some left over. I should really get some friends who are less wasteful.

750cc bottle of Skyy Infusions Passion Fruit Vodka

750cc bottle Sparkling Apple Cider

64oz Cranberry Juice Cocktail

1 Liter Ginger Ale

2 Cups Pineapple Juice

 

Mix and stir. Toast and laugh. A simplier evening will follow. If you want a simplier life, you’ll have to drink a lot of this often. I don’t endorse that behavior.

You know, I used to think I was a Rum Gal. Then I became a Gin Gal. Now I think I might be happy as a Vodka Gal.

I’ll always be a Beer Gal.

I’m blessed to be so easy to please.

While I’m at it, and because Christmas and Egg Nog are just around the corner, I’m going to share my recipe for the most delicious Puerto Rican Egg Nog you will ever put to your lips.

There is no diet version so just deal with it. Once you taste it, you won’t care about fitting in to your jeans anymore. You will simply want more.

When I brought this to Christmas at my in-laws’ home last year, my brother-in-law told me I am never allowed to come to his house again unless I have a jug of this with me.

14 oz Sweetened Condensed Milk

4 Egg Yolks (don’t even think about salmonella, it will ruin your night)

1-1 1/2 cups Puerto Rican White Rum. I used Cruzan Light Rum as a substitute because I didn’t live next door to the liquor store when I first made this. Start with a conservative amount because it can be overwhelming.

14 oz Coconut Milk

Generous sprinkle of Nutmeg

3/4 tsp Cinnamon                                                                                                                                            

 

Mix everything together in a blender. Store in the coldest part of your refrigerator for at least 2 hours. Garnish with another sprinkle of Cinnamon.

Your Welcome.

Too Much For My Brain

Tonight, in the 4.2 miles from Finn’s Day Care to home, Finn asked me about the following:

1. How did the Earth get made? (I went Big Bang on him)

2. How are babies made in your tummy? (I gave him a pretty G rated answer)

3. Can you tell me about ALL the machines you have at work? (I didn’t tell him about ALL of them)

4. What kind of machine makes noodles? (Finally, an easy one)

This was all way too much for my brain to handle after a long 12.5 hour shift.

I really wish I hadn’t thrown away that Vodka Punch from last night, or the brain cupcakes. I needed to put a little brain in my belly.

Does that make any sense?

I didn’t think so. Case in point.

Endless Pit

For breakfast I had a piece of toast and coffee. Niamh had a bowl of cereal and a Go-Gurt. Steve still hasn’t eaten because he’s weird. Finn had a bowl of cereal, 2 Go-Gurts, toast, string cheese, an apple, a glass of milk, and washed it all down with a glass of water.

In about an hour he’ll ask for a snack.

Should I or Shouldn’t I?

I probably shouldn’t, but I will. I’m going to share a short convo Niamh had with Steve yesterday.

Steve said they were watching television and a commercial came on for Viagara. Niamh asked him Daddy do you need that?

You can imagine Steve’s proud answer because after all, Steve is Steve, he’s eternally 14 years old…. as in Steve would giggle if I said something like Finn is in the yard playing with his balls….meaning a bunch of bouncy balls, not, well, you get it.

Anyhow, Steve said no, he didn’t need it. Niamh then said, Oh, because you’re a healthy male?

Another touching Father-Daughter moment at The Westover house.

I Beg Your Pardon

It seems I made an assumption. I thought this was The Tooth Fairy. She doesn’t have wings. I should have known.

This is a photo of Niamh. I didn’t recognize her with her hair dyed brown. I do recognize the rainbow skirt. But the pumps? I have never let her wear heels. And, what in the world is on her head?

I asked her what the bubbles coming off of Mrs. Fairy meant and she was all like I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mommy. That’s a picture of me.

The self-portrait is Niamh thinking of ideas she wants to write about for the Writers’ Workshop at school.

She wants to write stories about: 1. Mommy (I’m excited, and maybe a little worried about this expose (please put an accent over the last e. I can’t figure out how to do it on the keyboard))   2. Her tooth   3. ABC Alligators (a song using the alphabet in sign language)   4. Her Teacher (always a suck up)

So, People, there you have it. I made a mistake. So, sue me.

Coming Of Age

Niamh lost her very first tooth.

It was wiggly for quite a long time. For about a year she has been forcing it to move back and forth.

I think she has wanted it out for a few reasons. 1) It means she is growing up. Niamh has been asking me if she can drive since she was about 18 months old. Losing a tooth is confirmation that she is actually getting older, and closer to driving age. 2) Jaya has already lost a couple of teeth. As Jaya’s Best Friend Forever, Niamh needed to have the same experience so that they can compare notes. 3) Niamh is a big fan of Fairies and the Tooth Fairy is, like, Queen of them all. 4) Niamh likes to put things under her pillow. Exhibits A and B.

The tooth finally came out as she was getting ready for bed. She was pulling her jammies over her head and the neck got caught on the tooth and snapped it out. She just looked at me, stuck her tongue out, and there it was, sitting on the end of her tongue.

Raise your hand if you just hunched over in the “I’m going to barf position.” Wiggly teeth make me queasy too.

She was obviously thinking a lot about this tooth and the Tooth Fairy at school as well. When Steve and I went to curriculum night, we found these in her folder. Please note the silly bandz the Tooth Fairy is wearing in the second picture. That Fairy is fly, Yo.

I don’t know what all those captions coming off of Mrs. Fairy mean, but I’ll ask her later and get back to y’all.

After the tooth came out, she paced her room saying things like Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t believe it. Oh my god. Finn, just wait until YOU lose your first tooth. Oh my god. Just wait until she starts her menses, or kisses her first boy. There will be posts on those events, too.

So, she went to bed with her tooth under her pillow.

Finn went to bed with another note for the Tooth Fairy under his pillow giving permission to touch Pig.

The next morning, while I was at work, I called to hear how it all went. Did the Tooth Fairy pay her a visit?

Pay she did. Niamh got $5 from the gal! She also received the following note.

The next night was exciting too. Niamh discovered that the Tooth Fairy forgot her tooth on the bathroom sink! That was weird.

And so begin the awkward years.