Cakes & Snow Days!

Monday, January 24^th, my second born little man celebrated his 8^th birthday!  Eight years. Where does the time go? The polar opposite of his big brother, they were and still are, chalk and cheese.  One loves macaroni, one does not.  One loves pizza, one...does not.  Brown hair, blonde hair, brown eyes, blue eyes...opposites indeed; but adorable nonetheless. 

And, again, I took on the brave task of making his birthday cake.  While I did not conjure up any “poopy” coloured icing this time around, I had an unpleasant experience with some cocoa.  A friend (God bless her faith in me) suggested that cocoa would be an easy way to create black to do a hockey helmet cake. Her instructions seemed flawless.  With cocoa in hand, melted butter,  and two cups of icing sugar, I was off......to once again make a complete mockery of “black icing”.  This time, I didn’t even hesitate to resurrect the oddly coloured mess I had made.  It simply went straight in the garbage.

Both boys play with CAPS Minor Hockey.  The team colours would provide an easy, stress-free solution to my problem.   I was a Momma on a mission.  Happy Birthday little man!

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In other news...

As of 12 o'clock noon today, due to impending weather, the schools were shut down for the remainder of the day. I promptly collected my kids, a few of their friends, and my daughter from daycare and headed home.  Like any good snow day, my neighbours and I banded together.  As true believers in the strength of numbers, perhaps it would delay the ineviatable. What is that you ask?  After a movie and some time out playing in the snow, the wintery white flakes had changed to large droplets of rain. Rain made for some very wet kids, which in turn meant they wanted back inside.  End, peace and quiet. Enter, soaking wet snow suits, hats and mits, and boots scattered from one end of the house to another.  

....Seven hours later....play dough, paints, legos, stickers, cupcakes, "I'm bored", "There's nothing to do",  and a husband who's still not home later....all I can say is, I have a headache and it had better not be a snow day tomorrow! (please)

Baking a Birthday Cake!

January 20, 2011

Today is my oldest boys 10^th birthday! One of many milestones in a kids life, now double digits.  I vividly remember sitting in the hospital holding this tiny little person.  He was perfect in every way possible.  The nurse came in to see how we were doing and uttered words I will never forget, “Bet you can’t wait to take him home!” – What? What did you say? Take him home? Now what were we supposed to do? As she left my room, I looked down at my little peanut, whispering, “I’m sorry little man. It’s best I apologize in advance.” 

Ten years later.... You would think that after three kids and now a decade of parenting under the belt one would have half a clue.  Wrong, wrong and wrong.  I think I have become entirely clueless.  First, we’ve allowed ourselves to be out numbered.  Not smart.  Though they may fight and declare war toward each other, the little gremlins know just when to join forces.  A unified trio set to overpower and disable.

My boys are two years and four days apart.  As toddlers we did lots of things together. Play groups, swimming, I quickly learned that routine and scheduling was going to be a big part of our lives from here on in.  My biggest challenge was stuffing them in snowsuits, boots, hats & mitts while suffering through hot flashes just to get to the car. 

Now, with the toddler days behind me and four year old who thinks she’s fifteen... I have become very aware that just when I think I’ve finally got it, I’m reminded that I do not. I hear stories of puking (while eating dinner), arguments over “he’s looking at me”, my daughter asking -”did you hear that Mom? I farted!” ...then, as the dinkies have been replaced with hockey cards and iPods,  I’m reminded, “Mom, I’m ten today!”

Yes. Yes, you are; and quite the little man indeed.  To date, any and all birthdays have accompanied with a store-bought cake or one made by my talented sister. This year, I decided it was time to have a try at it myself.  My daughter picked out a guitar cake pan, we opted for the trusted Betty Crocker French Vanilla cake mix (please, I wasn’t attempting it from scratch!), and had even made butter cream icing from scratch!  I had some left over icing tips from previous failed attempts at cookie coloring and thought, “what the hell, we’ll give it a try”.

The cake baking itself consisted of me sitting in front of the stove, determined not to let it burn. After 30 minutes the timer was used in 5 minute increments to insure optimal cake baking time. After a night of cooling, I was ready to start coloring icing; black, skin tone and brown.  You’d think that having bought the gel-coloring named brown, it would be impossible to screw up.  My icing was brown alright...dog poop brown! It looked like runny, semi-soft dog crap! The kind we’ve all walked in once or twice; and I had a LOT of it.

God love my mother, who insisted that adding another color would make is less “poop” like.  So, a touch of black (thinking surly the black will save it) and..... “Sweet jingles! I’m not putting that on a cake!” – Bye, bye bowl of poopy-colored icing, it’s off to the garbage you go.  With a fresh batch of icing and some copper-red coloring I was in the last stretch.  After a few hand cramps and a splash of colourful language later, the cake was done! 

So, here I am.  Chickens in the oven, peas pudding and salt beef simmering on the stove and one “Mommy Made” cake waiting in the fridge!  And to think, it only took me a decade to get here!

Happy Birthday Noah!  I love you. You truly are an amazing little man! And, in being proactive for the next ten years of your life, “While I might have half a clue what I’m doing, be patient, I still might mess up along the way”.

 

40 cm of what?

And...WHAMO! How was that for a dump a snow!  Nothing like the good old Newfoundland weather; unpredictable, unreliable and always inconsistent!  It was only days ago I saw two joggers wearing shorts, puttering down the parkway and now...40cm of snow...boom! Hello winter!

Needless to say, if you were driving around the city of St. John’s yesterday you were slipping and sliding.  If you route involved one of the cities more treacherous hills, forget it. You weren’t making it up that puppy!  It’s always entertaining to watch drivers during the first major snow fall of the year.  People thinking they’re able to drive as the normally would in summer.  Till you see them fish tailing down and incline; the drivers’ lips are moving and you know their words are of a colourful nature!

At our house, the snow was a welcome site.  The kids were dressed and scooted out the door for some long overdue fresh air.  I was going to spark up the snow blower and clean up the snow filled driveway.  It’s a great sense of accomplishment pulling the rip cord to hear the roaring of the engine!  The snow blower purrs like a kitten and this Mama is off to the races.  

Wintery bliss! The kids frolic in fluffy snow laughing, having fun and for now...getting along.  I steam ahead, clearing the driveway , proud of myself.  Still, as the saying goes, “all good things must come to an end”!

GrrEEEeek! BANG! Thump!  “Sweet mother! What was that?’-  Machine off -  A quick prayer before I look....oh...oh my.  A large rock had made its way into the snow blower.  I removed it and proceeded to continue on.  (Foolish me).  We were moving forward, but no snow was spitting out.  Dry as a bone.  Another look reveals the augers are not rotating. Why? I have no clue. As far as I’m concerned, rock gone = machine works again.  But, no. I’ve heard of a shear pin? A belt?  I have no idea.  I do know however, that this is not good.  Only ten minutes into snow clearing 40cm of snow and we were brought to an abrupt halt.

The irony?  My husbands’ truck sits lifeless in the driveway with snow plow attached – two problems:           1. He’s out of the Country and 2: I haven’t a sweet clue how to use it.  I scowl at the truck, for now it’s a useless ornament mocking me and my predicament.  Then glare at my broken snow blower conceiting defeat!  As if holding the sacred white flag, I pitifully sniff waving my hand in the air. “Help!”

My neighbours (and friends) make their way, snow blower in tow.  With joined forces we clear the white glue from the pavement and walkways. Cars are returned to their initial parking positions and all consider it a job well done.   Then, like any good snow clearing event, we head upstreet, barbecue some hot dogs and hamburgers, open a bottle (or two) of wine, serve up a few Caesars and...four hours later...hope for a snow day! Nothing like a good snow party to wipe away all the ails ya!  Afterall, might as well find a way to enjoy the shovelling and plowing - chances are the snow's here til June!!

A New Year's Poem

 “A New Year at Home”

 (To the rhythm of “T’was the Night Before Christmas”)

”The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below..

  – then dad threw his back out re-brimming the trees, while mommy tackled the walkway snow- filled to her knees.

Then mom found my dinkie, as is shot through the blower, it might have been better had Dad ducked a little lower. And then, in a twinkling he got it first -rate, smack dab in the noggin, Dad’s wipe-out was great!

Our tree is still standing, a little haggard and bare, Dad says after New Year’s most people don’t care.  “It’s wind storms and blizzards from here in little man, Santa’s down south now, getting a tan”.

Mom in her gym pants, and Dad in his scrubs, Mom says “8 more pounds” til I’m in that hot tub.  Too much eating! Too much wine! Oh my! It’s not good!  When your fat pants don’t fit you quite like they should.

It’s back to the school books for me and my brother; and something about weight watchers for my guilt ridden mother.  She shouted something colourful not fitting of an Elf; most times we ignore her when she rants to herself!

Dad beams at the snowflakes as they fall from the sky.  He’s known as the friendly neighbourhood  plow-guy!  Through his frosted white windows he gives me a nod...I’ll tell mom much later what’s he’s done to the sod.

Then I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, “Have fun with your Mother, I’ll see you tonight!”

                                                                                                         

                                                                                                                     The mommy Jingles