Pie

Apple pie is an important ingredient for a successful Memorial Day celebration in my family.  Pie and homemade ice cream, that is.  Homemade ice cream from my Grandma S's treasured recipe.  This recipe has so much delicious milky goodness and just enough vanilla, that it is the absolute perfect partner to the Julian apple pie. 

Remember "Cake"?  "Cake" is the previous blog about how the twins can squirm their way into getting a bite of any body's piece of cake due to their undeniable cuteness.  Grandmas and grandpas are not immune to this phenomenon.  In fact, some grandmas actually encourage the twins to eat as much sweet goodness in their presence as humanly possible!  That's not totally true.  However, the twins know they can come up to certain grandmas with their mouths open in a wide O, and they will most assuredly get a spoonful of grandma's food.

Observe.

This is actually a bowl Grandma D specifically brought out just for the babies to share.  This is totally legal activity.

This is also totally legal activity.  Little G is enjoying her red bowl of ice cream, and is neatly using her spoon all by herself to take bites. 

Uh oh.  Little G still has her little red bowl, but that is somehow not enough.  She now wants a spoonful of Grandma's ice cream.  Grandma is all too happy to oblige. 

Then J.D., noticing how simple it is to pilfer from his own kin, steps up to Grandma's bowl.  Without giving her any sort of warning, he just dips his spoon right into the ice cream.  You can see that Grandma D has to laugh.  She knows she's created this madness. 

After getting all the good stuff from Grandma, J.D. moves right on over to Grandpa.  Again, no hesitation here; his spoon just goes right on into someone else's bowl. 

J.D. and Grandpa bond over their shared love of all things cold and creamy.

At this point, I had completely held off from enjoying any of the dessert myself.  I remembered my vow with my weight-loss group: no sweets for 7 days!  I signed my name on the dotted line, I made a vow to stick with this goal for the entire week.  I knew I could do it; I mean, I could have apple pie any old time I came back to Julian.  But homemade ice cream doesn't come along very often.

I looked around and I noticed Cubby enjoying her sweet treat.

Then I saw E happily spooning in bite after bite of her pie and ice cream.

Again I observed Cubby, now lounging by her dad, gobbling up the goodies.

Finally, I had to laugh when I noticed J.D. drop a small spoonful onto the grass, then immediately bend down to eat it off the grass with his hands.  Never mind the bugs, or the possibility of chowing on poisonous mushrooms, that boy was into that ice cream!

So I gave in. 

I actually didn't eat the pie, just the ice cream. Then I gave the pie to one of the many grubby kids surrounding me while I enjoyed every last lick of the delicious, creamy, heaven-sent ice cream.

Cake

Babies love cake.  It's a universal fact, and my twins are absolutely no exception.

For my birthday last week, one of the things I demanded for my special day was a Coffeehouse Crunch Ice Cream Cake from Coldstone Creamery. That cake is so delicious, it's as if the taste gives me a glimpse into heaven.  It's that good.

So my sweet, adorable husband purchased the beautiful chocolatey wonder, and I ate as much as I could in 48 hours.  I have to admit that I did indeed utter the words, "Danny, will you think less of me if I eat cake for breakfast?"  He did not, so I enjoyed that cake for my morning meal, and it was fantastic.  You see, the Monday after my lame birthday bash was the first day of my new diet.  A new diet that included a 7 day challenge of NO SUGARY SWEETS.  So I had to enjoy while I had time!

Anyway, some cake was left over from my birthday binge.  Here is what happens at my house when cake is leftover:

An adult has to plan a covert operation of sorts to slice the piece of cake and devour it before any children see even a crumb of chocolate evidence on the counter top.  That's just the way it is at my house. 

If these aforementioned children see the crumb, they will tackle, bite, and claw their way into that adult's lap, and moan, beg, and say "bite, bite bite?" until the adult is basically killed by their cuteness, and give in to sharing the cake.  I have tried to resist, but  it's nearly impossible, they usually end up getting at least half of my piece of cake every time.  And I shouldn't be complaining....if you know what I mean.

So there have been two pieces of lonely birthday cake sitting in the freezer for a few days, and Danny noticed them one afternoon after lunch.  He decided to go for it.  And this is what happened. 

What did I tell you?  Even the strongest man is no match for their charms!  At this point, Danny is thinking, "Ok, I'll give you two a couple of bites, but that's it! I'm going to enjoy the rest of this cake."

Yeah right.  J.D. puts his whole body into the cake bite.  It's very serious business.

Check out the look of defeat on Danny's face.  He has surrendered to their charms.  After these last few bites went to the babies, he walked right back to the freezer and got himself another piece.  That's just one more reason I love this man, he ain't no quitter, that's for sure....especially when it comes to cake!

Kitchen Update....Could We Be a Week Away From Cooking Indoors?

Our kitchen project is really moving along.  And as the hot weather rapidly approaches, this couldn't be happening at a better time.  We've been cooking (which is a very fancy word for microwaving) outside and existing on pre-sliced, pre-cooked, pre -washed everything since February 4th.  I am ready to cook.  I am itching to make some delicious chicken tortilla soup, toss a fresh salad with (gasp!) fresh vegetables, and (double gasp!) homemade dressing. 

I have been psyched all along for my wretched carpet to get ripped out.  In fact, I have been more than ready to do the ripping all by myself.  With my bare hands.  This carpet is only six years old, but it looks like it's been here since the Korean War, and that the soldiers from this war lived on it for months on end, and didn't believe in bathing.  You get my point.  Every leaky sippy, every muddy shoe, every dropped raspberry has been cherished by this carpet.  It's as if this carpet seeks out dirt and holds onto it with every fiber.  Literally. Every fiber. 

I bought a carpet steamcleaner about a year ago, since the professional carpet cleaners couldn't keep up with the stains since I only called them every six months.  I swear I heard the carpet cracking up when it saw the carpet cleaner.  "You're kidding, right? That Costco special is no match for me.  Wooohoooohahahaha."  That last part is the carpet laughing maliciously at my expense.  Whatever, it's late.

So the day the flooring guys came to rip out this carpet was a memorable day for me.  You know how everyone remembers where they were when Lady Di died in that horrible car accident? (By the way, I was at Campland with my parents in theThornburg's trailer and heard it on the radio.) Well, I will always remember the day that disgusting excuse for a floor covering was hauled out of my house.  I may have cried tears of joy. 

Oh, to see that there was something clean underneath that filthy mess, made my heart sing.

Here's the floor after the backerboard and mud.

Ta-Da!  This tile is wonderful, beautiful, but more imporantly, a snap to clean.  When I first walked into the room, I silently screamed for joy into my closed fist, then smiled at it lovingly and said, "Welcome to our home marvelous tile.  We've been expecting you."

The kids were excited about the tile too.  Not really, they just thought it was fun to have yet another picnic for dinner in the backyard.  Hey, you know I can't resist sticking a picture of my four adorable kids in here, right?!

About a week later, it was time for the countertops to go in. 

Our trusty contractors, Luke and Mike, installed the plywood, straightened out the uneven surfaces, and ate some breakfast burritos.

Today the countertops were installed.  I can't be more pleased, they are perfect.

Plywood before.....

....countertop after.

Plywood before....

.....countertop after.

It's been a little painful to watch J.D. during this kitchen remodel process. The little guy wants to help out so bad, but there's only so much a play drill and plastic screwdriver can do.  He sometimes tries to hang out with the guys and tell jokes, but they don't get 23 month old humor, and thank goodness, he certainly can't follow adult humor.  So, he ends up standing along the edges of the work area, drill in hand, just waiting for an opportunity to pitch in.  Don't worry J.D., your time is definitely coming!  As is our kitchen, only a few weeks to go.  Mmmmm..... I can already smell that tortilla soup!

Prima Ballerinas

Today was ballet picture day.  For me this is scary bun day, as in scary hair bun day.  I am notoriously horrible at buns, but they are required for the dance recital, so I figure picture day is a good practice session for me. 

After consulting several bun experts, I bought the hair gel, filled up the water bottle and brushed E's hair with a fine bristled brush until it was as smooth as, well, hair.  It turned out awesome, and although she looked a tad bit Asian in her photo since I pulled that sucker so tight, the bun stayed in place, and I was a happy mom.

Now there is no way Cubby's new haircut (see past blog) could be pulled into the required bun, so she wore a snazzy matching clippy.  And she was very happy, especially after watching the torture session that was getting E's hair slicked back and bunned. 

After rushing to the photo session (which was incredibly well-organized, way to go Ooh La La!), we came home to find Gracie in a pink tutu.  Apparently, she was not about to be left out!

This is what happened when I asked them to pose. 

Gracie is saying, "Am I doing this right? Yeah,  I thought so.  My big sisters are so cool."

Then I told them to strike any pose they wanted.  I love that when you give them complete free rein, they still have their sweet little smiles and innocent poses. 

Gracie tries to keep up, and is basically loving the opportunity to hang with her big sisters.

Then Daddy enters the scene, and performs a lift.  E is in heaven.  Have I mentioned already that E is already slowly easing into the role of primary daddy's girl?  I am watching this transition and sometimes feel pangs of pain, but then I realize that to be a daddy's girl is the best thing on earth.   And yes, I have some personal experience with that.

Then J.D. shows up and does his own pose.  Seriously. That's what he did when I asked the kids to pose.  Gotta love little boys.

I know, I know, I take a million pictures of my four little ones all together.   I can't help it.  I am a really proud mom and it's going to shine through . These prima ballerinas are going to strut their stuff in a few weeks at the big recital!  I can't wait!

31

When is it exactly that birthdays stop mattering?  I can now answer that question.  It's thirty-one.

I turned thirty-one years old today.  I started the day feeling sort of sorry for myself.  I mean, last year was a big one, and I planned a fun girls' getaway to Palm Desert.  A group of us gathered together for spa treatments, lots of meals out, shopping, and plenty of girl talk.  These same friends urged me to plan something similar this year, but the chaos of my home situation right now, plus the hurdle of having to line up childcare for all my kiddos was overwhelming, so I didn't plan a thing. 

So this morning, after a couple of hours of moping around the backyard, I prayed.  It was a silly, selfish prayer, something like, "God, make my birthday fun." After this little self-serving plea, I looked up and saw that the babies were soaking themselves with a hose.  More specifically, J.D. had the hose, and he was calmly drenching G over the head with the spouting water.  Her little hands were in the air and she was attempting to look up into the water as it streamed over her head.  She was laughing and smiling and shrieking.  J.D. looked at me to make sure he hadn't crossed the line, and I smiled at him, and he smiled back at me, like we were in on something.  And everything was o.k.

It was the greatest moment.  I guess it was only the tiniest bit spoiled because I didn't have my camera to get a shot to share it with others.  But maybe that was the point.  I fully enjoyed it, sat there and laughed with my two one-year-olds.  I whispered another prayer, but this time it was a prayer of honest thanks. 

So I say, so what if thirty-one is not a big deal!  What is a big deal is that my little niece, Ellie turns two this Sunday.  Another big deal is that my two premature babies are about to mark a milestone birthday as well, as they turn two this June.  A huge big deal is that E graduates from kindergarten in a few weeks, and Cubby finishes up her first year of pre-school.  Another year, another file of memories and milestones is tucked away in my mind. 

How did I get to be so blessed?  My thirty first year will be one I look back on and say, "Oh, I remember that year, don't you Danny? We had it made!  Our house may have been a mess, but it was full of joy."

This picture says it all.  Mother's Day 2010.

Haircut

This house remodel has been a little tough on everyone.  Things that would have normally been a priority have been let go.  I have forgotten to pay bills, feed the dog, put food back in the fridge, and condition my hair. 

Sadly, the kids have suffered as well.  They have gone days without eating a green vegetable, since most healthy veggies require washing, cutting, and cooking.  Our go-to vegetables are carrot sticks, since they don't have to be washed or cut.  Bob Evans macaroni and cheese is a weekly staple, and the crackers, chips, and cookies are overflowing from the shelves.  I hate to have them eat this way, but ease of use completely trumps health at this point.

Another arena in which I have let my poor kids down is in the hair department.  Prior to our house being torn apart, I would get their hair cut regularly.  The girls have bangs, so those have to be cut all the time.  Even though hair care is almost totally unrelated to a kitchen remodel, for some reason, all appointments, including those for haircuts, got thrown out the window.  

Danny was the first to give in and demand a haircut.  He even dragged out a little stool into the middle of our backyard one day, plugged in our pathetic trimmers, and begged me to shave away.  So I did.  And he was very happy.

Emma was the next to complain about her hair.  Her bangs were so busy shading her eyes she was having trouble reading!  She asked me to cut her bangs one afternoon while the babies were napping.  She's a smart girl.  She knows we can't possibly work with sharp things with J.D. conscious and trolling the rooms for tools.  So I chopped her bangs.  And she was very happy.

Cubby is last in the long line of hairy haircare heroes.  Sorry, it's late, and I'm getting a little silly.  Anyway, her hair had gotten OUT OF CONTROL.  Check it:

Oh, my beloved second born daughter.  I love you so much.  I love the stringy hair in your eyes, the chocolate sauce dripping from your face, and more than anything, the look of sheer bliss on your face.  You are most assuredly my child. 

So I walked into the sweet Wal-Mart salon the other day with Cubby and the twins in tow.  The lady looked our way, scanned all four of us for unruly hair.  When her eyes landed on Cubby, she pursed her lips and began wordlessly searching for a pair of scissors.  She quickly piled up cushions on the swiveling, pumped up, hair-cutting chair, ensconced Cubby on her throne, covered her in a jazzy drape, and cut away all the stringy madness. 

Now just look at this happy child.

Oh yeah, I should have warned you, she's silly.

Very silly.

But do not laugh at her. She gets ticked.  This is a mean face.  I know!  It's hard to believe this is a mean face when her new haircut is smiling and saying, "I'm not mean, I am completely wonderful, shiny, and sweet!"

This is her, "Who me?" coy, flirty face.

She's going to be a heartbreaker....haircut or not!

A Happy Day in Julian

Julian is in its absolute glory right now.  The fresh plants are weighed down by huge, colorful blooms.   Apple trees are covered in sweet smelling white and pink flowers.  California poppies spring up with their happy orange faces all over the roadsides.  Fat horses and cattle graze in lush meadows.  Groups of turkeys scour the orchards and meadows for snacks. 

This is where I spent my Saturday.  I left the projected heat of 97 degrees in the Valley for a gorgeous 70 degrees.  A view of beauty like this can't help but make my heart smile. 

I took the girls and my mom up for the day.  Cousin Ellie and Ayron also met us for the morning.  This was our Mother's Day gift to eachother.  After a day like this, I can't imagine a better gift. 

We started the day at a little mining camp and farm in Wynola.

They had a real watermill with troughs for sifting out the real gold flecks from the fool's gold and gravel.

A surprisingly friendly teenager helped the girls learn the proper panning technique.  Sorry, I was a rude teenager so stumbling upon a friendly one is a little shocking at first. 

The girls took it pretty seriously. 

Cubby had a little assistant. 

Her specialties included smiling, laughing.....

....digging in the dirt with her fingers....

.....and eventually using the pan. 

The poppies were at their absolute peak!

The pie shop was the obvious next stop on our trip to Julian.

And here's my lunch! 

Dad didn't let that happen.  After working all day in the orchard, a little pie and coffee were the perfect reward.

Then we made our way back to mom and dad's cabin, where we searched for ladybugs.

They weren't hard to find, those little guys were having a feast up there!

Little girls and ladybugs, the perfect combination.

The bigger and fatter the ladybug, the more likely the girls were to pick it up and let it crawl on their arms.

These were some of the biggest ones.

Then grandma decided the girls needed to throw some rocks into the pond.  The girls were not opposed to this idea in the slightest.

E didn't let go of her scroll.  It was an invitation to the ball (as in Cinderella's ball), you see. She had made it at lunch, and wouldn't put it down for anything.  Not even for rock throwing. 

Grandpa found the best rocks for skipping.

Grandma made sure everyone had an equal share of rocks to throw. 

Then it was time to go.  Danny had made this day possible by agreeing to watch the twins for me.  On this particular Mother's Day weekend, a day away from the routine, and at this time, the mess and chaos of a home in the midst of a remodel, is the best possible gift.  What better gift than to have a Mother's day spent with my daughters, mom and sister? 

We drove away from the beauty and bounty of Julian, and I couldn't help but snap these shots of my favorite views from around the property.

I think we'll be back next weekend.  May is too beautiful to miss in Julian.