Monthly Archives: November 2009

Someone call Tim Gunn!

Now presenting, the first outfits I’ve ever created!
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I can hear you all fainting at the sheer talent. Hand stitched, people. Lord knows what I’d do to myself if I tried to use a sewing machine. I’d probably have to wear mittens forever (since my fingers would be sewn together)…

Next up? You mean, assuming I’m not on the next season of Project Runway?

I’m thinking cruisewear for Winnie the Pooh, something flowy and flattering but not too revealing given his penchant for the sweets.

While I’m at it, maybe I should make a bigger version of that for myself….

Are you working at home on any new creations?

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rubber spatula: friend or foe?

You may have noticed that I’ve done some baking lately.

This means I’ve been using this item fairly regularly:
spatula

With the Kid close by every second of every moment while I’m cooking, she always chimes in with “Can I have a taste help?”

Which, translated from kidtalk, usually means “Move over, Rover. I want to eat that batter. And eat it NOW.”

And how do we protect the bowl and get the batter out of the pan? Our fingers. No, The Spatula. They’re so helpful, aren’t they? Bending into every crack to get the last bit of batter or dough. Nothing goes to waste with a spatula on the scene. It’s really great, isn’t it? You want to hug the guy who came up with these, don’t you? What did we do before these were invented?

I’ll tell you what: we got to lick the bowl.

Yes, we used a clunky, ill-shaped, old wooden spoon that banged against the sides of the bowl when you even tried to get all the batter out, leaving airport-runway wide swaths of gooey goodness to snarf down merrily while that other stuff for other, less fortunate people was in the oven.

As a former teenage cookie dough maker/eater (Back in da day, you had to make the dough, people. You could not buy it pre-made.), I can understand the Kid’s knee-jerk, overwhelmingly loud and sorrowful reaction when I pull out a spatula now to get the muffin batter into the pan:

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo, Mommy, don’t use THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTT!”

The Spatula. It breaks my child’s heart. Unless you use its powers for good (or evil, depending on whose side you’re on) and scrape and then lick the spatula.

Either way, we still have the old mixing bowl beaters. I haven’t found a spatula small enough to work out all the batter off those.

Okay, I may not have looked for one, either.

Do you love or hate your spatula?

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9 top tips for a Disneyland visit with your child

My husband, 6 year-old daughter and I went to Disneyland, and I thought it might be helpful for any of you planning a similar trip to benefit from my mistakes and poor judgment experiences.

Here are my top 9 tips for visiting Disneyland (oh, there are more, just email me…!):

1. Stay by the park, or in the park, or in a bush near the park. I know, I know, many have stayed, including us, a mile or two away from the park and rode the Anaheim shuttle bus, but I’ve decided next time I’d sacrifice the comfortable suite setup, to just have a mediocre or crappy tiny room that I could walk quickly over to the Mouse. Come on, you’re not here to be comfortable on vacation; you’re here to see Disneyland! This way, you’ll maximize your time and energy, especially when your spouse child is getting tired and cranky mid-afternoon. Or if there’s a late show, like Fantasmic, you’ll be more likely to pop over and check it out.

Which you should because it’s great and you probably won’t be back for years.

Alternate plan: a friend suggested staying in Dana Point, a nice beachy town and, she says, a 20 min. drive away, better setting and better bang for your buck.

2. Get a hotel with a pool, but beware. Beware because that moment will come perhaps two hours into Day 1 when you’re at Disneyland planning your next move, and your little lovebug looks up and says, “Can we go back to the pool NOW?”

Harbor Blvd, circa 1960's

Harbor Blvd, circa 1960's

3. Bring ear plugs. Harbor Boulevard, the main drag of hotel chains, is big, wide and busy. Think Vegas strip with palm trees and extra long blocks. If your hotel is on that road, you’re gonna need to stop the ringing in your ears and ignore the buses at 5am your rest during the downtime.

4. Get a multi-day park hopper ticket. This might just be me, but contrary to the rest of my group, I wanted MORE time at the park. Yes, we had a 3-day pass. Besides Disneyland and all its lushness, you easily spend a day at California Adventure riding Soarin’ over California again and again ohhowilovedthatride. Don’t wait until you get to the front gates; you can buy tickets from Disney cheaper online.

5. Fastpass is your friend. Get them whenever you can. Don’t know what they are? Find out. Hint: it’s not a wink and a smile from a park worker.

We were at Disneyland in November, an off-season period, and still, certain rides, I’m looking at you, TOY STORY and NEMO, had longass lines and no Fastpass option. If you child is interested in princesses, you WILL stand in line.

newest princess Tiana!

newest princess Tiana!

And read that book everyone says to read, The Unofficial Guide to Disneyland. It will open your eyes to attacking the park unlike never before if, unlike mine, your group will actually get up in the morning.

6. Plan on buying lots of water at the park or at Target or wherever. Sure, I am a tightwad brought my water bottle Day 1 planning on refilling it at the park and forcing my whole group to drink from it, but holymamaofaquiferhellbatman, that tap water tasted NASTY. So did our hotel tap water. Guess we are spoiled here in all our PNW natural beauty and good tasting water.

That, plus, the Hubs put a filter on a filter on a filter on our main water line a few years back.

7. Prepare to be that bad parent who puts their kid on a ride that terrifies the crap out of them. Like a colonoscopy, it WILL happen to you; it’s just a matter of when. My kid decided the second time she rode the Indiana Jones ride, it scared her little Princess panties off. Second time, people.

8. Don’t beat yourself up when you weaken and purchase some perfectly useful watch or charming mug ridiculous item with a Disney logo that afterward you find online on sale with free shipping at the end of your trip. You’re only human and these Disney merchandisers are not.
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Also, check out the Silhouette Studio on Main Street. Even if you don’t get one made of your offspring, which you should since it’s only $9 and is probably the best souvenir you could ever have, it is mindblowing to watch this woman pick up scissors and cut out the shape of someone’s face on that black paper in 15 seconds.

9. Lastly, prepare your husband your ego for seeing some fake boobs. This is the O.C., after all. Imagine, skinny woman, skinny arms, ponytail, tank top, and two well-rounded puffs of tanned silicone peeking out, like two little, softbrained aliens trapped under her bronzed casing trying to go home. You’ll want to avert your eyes, but can’t.

Makes me appreciate home, fleece and turtlenecks, rain and windstorms…

So, there you have it. Best of luck in all your Disney adventures. Enjoy your trip!

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our outing

At this point, you may be wondering if you’ll finish your Halloween candy by Thanksgiving where the heck we’ve been.

Well, I went out of town and failed to properly plan with scheduled posts left you all here unsupervised. You did behave yourselves, didn’t you? Or at least not get caught.

But where did we go you don’t really care but are going to hear about it anyways? We went to visit a friend at her house.
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She was quite gracious and invited us into her house. Although I got the impression she did that with everyone.

The weather was great, sunny and 70 (woo hoo! take that Seattle!), but it looked like it had snowed before we got there. Icicles still dangled from the castle.
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And one of my personal favorites was around, so mama was happy.
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And he didn’t even bounce into anyone.

All in all, a good time. Now, back to the fleece and various other water-resistant winter gear…..

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the new dog door

The oh-so-talented Hubs has been slogging away on home upgrades these past few ions years, projects that include replacing all our windows and doors.

As we he neared the time to replace our main sliding door, we debated about whether to add a doggie door for Becca.

Given this is the Let the dog in! blog, I knew it might ruin things, but also given the sheer volume of dog ins and outs happening here every day, plus my general laziness level, I might be ruined anyway.

Ultimately, our worry about raccoons coming inside caused us to vote “no” on the doggie door.

I repeat, we voted “no” on the doggie door.

Our dog, however, had other ideas.

After the Hubs installed the new sliding door (a long and painful process for me to watch the Hubs, with new problems popping up at every turn), we were shocked to find Becca outside during a time we had closed the door to keep her inside.

“Did you leave the door open?!” the Hubs asked accusingly.

“No! If you didn’t do it, it must have been the Kid!”

When in doubt, blame the minor, I always say! Sure, they always deny it, but we mature adults know the truth

Then, a few days later, we all sat inside when Becca saw a raccoon from the window.

Moaning her desperate moan, she raced to the sliding door, front paws up on the door, and with her snout in the loop, pushed this handle, heaved the door open, and dashed out.
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(see the scratches on the handle? the dog snot on the glass?)

We sat silently in shock.

Our response? To lock the door, of course! That’ll keep her in for sure, we stupidly figured.

Cut to following day: raccoon came wandering across the front yard, more moaning and dashing from the dog. Upon finding the latch flipped down, Becca took two seconds and pulled the latch up with her teeth to unlock it and then ran outside to bark ferociously.

This little latch:
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Note where the white paint has been scratched off on the latch.

At this point, if this were other than a “family blog” as the Hubs calls it, I’d mentioned the dire laundry need we had to clean our pants from what bodily functions occurred when we saw our dog unlock the new door.

As you might guess, the Hubs is real excited about this recent development. And this creation of the most expensive doggie door ever made.

To make matter worse, even with this superdog power, when she is less motivated or less rushed to get outside she has the nerve to scratch at the door for me to open it.

Sure, she tries to get back on my good side.
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I’ll admit, it is hard to stay mad at that furry, bearded, door-opening, door-ruining pooch.

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