Granola, Revisited

Once upon a time, I loved to cook and plan menus, and make delicious meals and desserts. Then Jack was born. The End.

Somehow I found myself alone in the house, and the kitchen wasn't already disaster, so I decided to make some granola. The recipe calls for 2 cups of oats, but I usually double most of the recipe and then throw in an extra cup of oats to justify the sugar and honey and orange juice. And I don't really measure the oats, I just get 5 scoops out of the bulk bin. And that seems just about right. So I started to make granola and I measured, heated, stirred, chopped, mixed just about everything and then I dumped the oats out into the bowl on top. But it wasn't 5 cups/scoops. It was way, way more than that. I stirred and stirred, but it was pretty dry. So I mixed up another batch of brown sugar, orange juice, honey, vanilla, and canola oil. And I stirred and stirred and stirred. Still sort of dry. So I poured some orange juice into the bowl, with a glop of honey and some canola oil. And I stirred. Little more juice. Little drop of oil. And done.

Then I hoped it would either be disgusting, since there was no way I could ever replicate it, or really, really good, because I now had two giant tupperware containers full of it. And there was still a lot left on the tray, but I was just too tired to deal with it at that point. For the rest of the evening everyone took a handful whenever they walked by. (Why yes, there is granola all over the floor, why do you ask?) I left it out and considered myself a nice mommy for preparing Luke's breakfast the night before. Nothing like getting up on a Saturday morning and watching cartoons while you eat homemade granola out of the pan.

And then, Saturday morning, a miracle happened.

Luke was watching cartoons and eating handfuls of granola when I walked by with Baby Jack, who had made it abundantly clear through both verbal and non-verbal communication that he was interested in nursing. I grabbed a handful of granola, ate some, handed a bite to Jack and then sat down to nurse him. And he started to nurse, and then he sat up and said, "Mo? Pees?" And he did the signs for both more and please. And he wasn't talking about breast milk. Faster than you can imagine, I had him in his high chair, eating a bowl of granola, and he hasn't nursed since. He has eaten a lot of granola though. It's been 6 days now, but I still feel like I am "in the process of weaning him". That is because, according to Dave, I am "crazy".

Books For Sale!

Luke has been writing books lately. He wrote an Underdog comic, and a book about Wdir Sports. ("Does water have an A in it? On no!") And today he made a big announcement! Luke will be selling chapter books for $1.00 and non-chapter books for 2 quarters. I got really excited and offered to set him up an Etsy shop and Dave said he'd get him a PayPal account. However, he said he'd rather have people just come to our house and give him dollars in person. But Dave suggested selling prints of his artwork too, and maybe we just figured out how to pay for college. And to think all this time, I have been gathering stacks of his work and just mailing it out!

Anyway, Luke said I should blog about his project in case there are any readers who like to read and who live close enough to stop by with a dollar. Some of the books are still being written, so start saving.

Haircut

It was Saturday Hair Cut Day at Casa de MetaMegan this past weekend. I wanted to take Before and After pictures for my blog, but I couldn't find my camera, and the charger for my cell (camera) phone had been lost for weeks. Dave said if I used his camera phone, then he'd be the one to blog about it. Curses. I found my phone charger and my camera just minutes after they left, so all I really have is the After picture, and we'll have to just imagine the Before. Luke's choices were buzz cut or nothing, because he barely needed a haircut. He chose the buzz cut, probably just to get the free sucker and then yesterday he said he didn't like how his hair feels like a fuzzy ball. But then again, he was also upset about having long eyelashes, and after he blew his nose for 5 minutes straight, he was really angry when I said, "Watch out, your brain might come out."

But look how cute they are, post haircut!

The trend in Boulder is a shaggy haired look for boys, but Dave and I have, thus far, been able to steer clear of that trend. Don't get me wrong, we are dirty hippies like the rest of this town, but I just don't want to deal with tangles in my sons' hair. (Aside - We cut up half a burrito at dinner the other night, and then became engrossed in adult conversation while the boys ate. Next thing we knew, the rest of Jack's burrito had been ripped open and he had beans* all over his face. And the burrito was an empty shell. The waiter said to Jack, "Um, you have a little something on your face..." I said, "Don't worry, it's bath night." And the waiter said, "And that is... once a week?" "No, twice a week!" "Oh, Ok." )

But back to the haircuts, Jack was looking especially cute on the morning before his haircut. (You know when your hair is perfect, and you are almost tempted to cancel your appointment, but you know if you do, you'll look like Medusa every day for the next month while you try to reschedule? What? No, that's never happened to me.) Then I had the best idea when Dave asked me how I wanted Jack's hair to look. So I ran to find my latest InStyle magazine and I tore out a picture and said, "Have his hair cut to look like this:

Wait, that isn't a good example, I mean, it should look like this:


And do you know what Dave said? He said, "No." And he said it sort of derisively. Just short of scorn. He said, "I am not getting his hair cut to look like that. That is what his hair looks like now. That is why I am taking him to get his hair cut."

Hmm. Well. Now what am I supposed to do with that magazine picture? Hang it up in my locker? Well, just like C, N, S and B, I am not in high school anymore.** Would it be weird if I hung it up in my cube at work? Just kidding, I never ripped it out of the magazine. I couldn't risk tearing it!


* I capitalized Bean at first. Sigh.
** Since I wasn't able to impress anyone with my one degree of seperation from Gossip Girl, I'll just assume no one gets this.

So Sleepy

I was composing a hilarious post while I did some work this evening... But it isn't finished yet and I am so sleepy. How sleepy am I? This sleepy:

Happy Belated Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day! The boys went overboard this year with gifts, but I especially love the painting that Luke made of the two of us.

I also asked for some gardening/landscaping work, and the boys were happy to oblige.

Just a Few More Pictures

And maybe one more video tomorrow...

The Highlights (until my camera fell in the sand and stopped working):

We had a suite on the first floor and I took this picture from our patio:

From Mexico

The boys were very cute:

From Mexico

From Mexico

Jack really likes to say cheese for the camera now:

From Mexico

We really needed a few days of nothing but sun, beach, pool, food and drinks. You can tell by the smiles:

From Mexico

Now, I mentioned the highlights, and I mentioned the only real challenge we faced, but here are some other interesting tidbits.

Most common types of pizza at the snack bar:
hot dog pizza
salami pizza
tuna fish pizza
hotdog and carrot pizza

And this:
Me: I wish we had just eaten all this fruit so we wouldn't have to declare it.
Dave: It's no big deal, you just have to declare it.
Customs Officer: This form is for you, but don't worry you aren't in trouble.
Me: You are taking the fruit?
Customes Officer: In the future, don't bring fruit to Mexico.
Jack: Miiiiiiiiine. BANANA!
Me: (contemplate asking the customs officer for the confiscated banana so I can feed it to Jack right there.)
Jack: Miiiiiiiine!

Note to self: anything included in the section with weapons and explosives, is probably something you should eat before you get off the plane.

Overheard at Casa de MetaMegan

Are you getting so, so tired of hearing about our fabulous vacation? Ok. I'll take a break to tell you about this little conversation:

We left a lot of milk in the fridge before we left for Mexico (sorry - still talking about the vacation here) and when we got back I sniffed Jack's milk and it seemed fine so I poured him a glass. Same for Luke's milk. They drank it. The next day I poured a glass for Luke and decided I should taste it before I gave it to him.

Me: Aaaggh. Blah, ptoouey, yuck, yuck, yuck, gag, etc.
Luke: What's wrong?
Me: This milk is disgusting!
Luke: I KNOW! It tasted like my fingers when they are really dirty!!

Dinner A La Jack: A Photo Essay

+ 1 Minutes/Cute:

From Mexico

+ 3 Minutes/Politely Dining:

From Mexico

+5 Minutes/Mood is Souring:

From Mexico

+ 7 Minutes/Angry:

From Mexico

+ 12 Minutes/Sleeping:

From Mexico

Some evenings, the tantrums lasted longer. How did we manage to eat all our meals in restaurants for the entire vacation?

From Mexico

And:

From Mexico

And:

From Mexico