In which his words come back to haunt him, beat him, and kick him where it counts

Today we were driving to church, and the familiar banter between siblings filled the air. Elbows were dug jovially into rib cages. Treasures were held out just slightly farther than little hands could reach. Shoving ensued, and was promptly followed by the unavoidable, yet completely annoying, tattle.

"MMMOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!"

All this before we were even out of our neighborhood.

So, in an attempt to find a little peace in my heart on the sabbath, I put on a CD, and declared that the car was now a talking-free zone. The Husband raised his eyebrows quizzically when the opening number of Joseph filled the air.

I shrugged my shoulders, and proceeded to lose myself in Donny's melodic, "Any Dream Will Do."

Then, in a flash of brilliance, I announced that we would be watching Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat tonight for family night.

Groans immediately filled the air.

[And they all came from the Husband.]

His protests were naturally matched by those of his boys. I was preparing to dig in my heels for battle, when suddenly, from the back seat, a tiny little girl voice spoke up.

"But, Dad, aren't we supposed to be flexible and try new things?"

His very words to them less than 12 hours before, when a plate of foreign-looking food was placed in front of them, had now come back to haunt him. I smiled sweetly, awaiting his reply.

I'm pretty sure that grunt and roll of the eyes was his surrender.

And so tonight we all watched Joseph. Two of us loved it; three of us didn't. Any guesses who loved it?

Although, how anyone could not love this is beyond me:



[Note to self: Must stop posting pictures of half-nekkid men on the blog. Eh, maybe tomorrow. This is just too delicious. And it's about the Bible, after all. How wrong can that be?]

Having my cake and eating it, too

On a post I wrote a few days ago, Calibosmom left me a comment that really got me thinking.

She wondered if it would be possible to have James Bond AND the chocolate cake together in one place.

I figured that was the epitome of having your cake and eating it, too. Which I am most fond of in any way, shape, or form.

So, I rolled over and asked James what he thought. This was his response:

Which we did.

After we burned down a hotel in the desert, and saved the water supply for Bolivian villages everywhere, of course. We spent a lovely few weeks on his yacht and private island together. He had called in sick to his boss, M, which basically left the entire world unprotected.

I didn't mind, though.

Because, as James said, I was looking a little too thin. What with four days of thanksgiving food fully packed with butter and sugar. I needed some tending to, you know, me practically wasting away and all.

But, alas, I had to leave James and go on a series of press junkets for my other movie.

Yes, it's been a busy year for the little Stie.
I know a lot of you didn't like it. But hopefully the next ones will be better for you. We're hoping to have a lot more money this time, and actually be able to pay someone to do our makeup. We had to do a bit of it ourselves, as you can see. But it's been great to be here with Edward. He doesn't like to let me leave his side for a moment. If I'm not right there with him, he sneaks into my bedroom at night and watches me sleep.

Which is not at all creepy. Or stalkerish.

Finally, after all my press conferences, interviews, and parties were over, I flew home to be with my one and only true love:

He missed me a lot.

Don't we make a handsome couple?

We get that all the time.

I know you're totally jealous. Don't be stealing my imaginary boyfriends now. As you can clearly see, they belong to me.

How to lose the Christmas spirit (before you've even really gotten it yet)

Step one: Annoy your husband by demanding he haul the extra large, extra heavy tree box up from the basement. Annoy him further when you ask in your nicest wifely voice if he will also bring up the two large bins of ornaments/decorations. Ignore his grunts and grumbles and be glad he is so strong.

Step two: Turn on the Christmas music that you burned onto your oldest son's i-pod (as your i-pod has recently died a slow and painful death). Smile sweetly when he complains about this. Think of his painfully difficult birth that was done without the use of an epidural, and decide he owes you this, at the very least.

Step three: Untangle multiple balls of mangled lights that you could have sworn were rolled neatly last January. Begin hanging the untangled lights on the tree.

Step four: Finish hanging the lights, go to plug them in, and realize (to your horror) that half of them are burned out. Begin searching for the bulbs that are burned out and suddenly realize you cannot see things up close. Wonder exactly when that happened, and blame it on your recent 35th birthday. Make a mental note to start shopping for cute bifocals. [Wonder briefly if that is an oxymoron.]

Step five: Give up searching for burned-out bulbs and remove all lights from the tree. Test another tangled ball of lights to make sure it works before hanging it on the tree. When lights appear, hang the second tangled ball of lights. Go to plug them in (and realize AGAIN to your horror) that half of them are burned out. Wonder exactly why the universe hates you. Decide you hate the universe, too.

Step six: Try hard not to lose heart, in spite of the universe hating you. Grab your purse, and head to Target for replacement lights. Sing loudly in the car on the way there. Be proud of yourself and your unusually positive attitude in a situation like this.

Step seven: Get home and call madly for the children to come back and help with the tree. Realize they have lost interest. Pull new lights out of the plastic Target bag and realize (TO YOUR SHOCK, HORROR, and SHEER FRUSTRATION) that you have purchased lights with white wiring, which will not look too good on your green tree. Momentarily consider hanging yourself with them.

Step eight: Decide against suicide, grab your purse, and head BACK to Target. Say lots of four-letter words out loud in the car instead of singing. Return white-wired lights and pick up new boxes of green-wired lights. Stand in line and try not to throw things at people in front of you.

Step nine: Come home yet again. Ignore the children who could now care less about the tree decorating. Silently curse that annoying Christmas music in the background. Hang the damn lights on the damn tree.

Step ten: Start hanging ornaments and have the children suddenly take an interest in the tree decorating.

Step eleven: Find your ice-cold heart of stone slowly melting. Finish decorating the tree. Stand back, sigh, and be mildly grateful for the season.

Step twelve: Angrily throw old lights into the trash. Vow to buy new lights next year before beginning this process. Turn off the lights on the tree. Go to bed.

How I spent my Thanksgiving vacation: By Stie

Oh, hello there. Did you think I had forgotten you?

I haven't.

I was just extra busy hosting a turkey dinner, watching my sister-in-law repeatedly clean up after seven children (three of which were mine), and making time to stuff myself silly with about 19,459 calories in three days.

It was a most excellent Thanksgiving weekend, to say the least. I was able to spend time with some of my favorite people.

People like them (even if they were cheesy, poorly budgeted, and over-the-top at times):

I also got to spend time with extra hot people like HIM (who I really wanted some alone time with, I'll be honest):But even better than that, was the time I spent with people like them:

People like them:

And let's not forget people like them, who I love most of all:

Not only was my life richly filled with those that I love, but my belly was full of food that I love. Food like this:
And our favorite gut-busting Thanksgiving tradition, food like this:

There was a lot of card game playing (with some cheating, cough*Opa*cough), hotel swimming, and late night laughing. There was very little sleeping done, but nobody seemed to mind.

It was so great to be surrounded by family, good food, and fun. We hope they will all come back again soon (especially that Daniel Craig. He's welcome to come any time).

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Her inability to love and appreciate herself fully

I just got a call from a friend who had been helping out with the first grade thanksgiving party at the school.

She had been sitting with a group of children doing an activity, and Hannah was part of her group. The children were taking turns sharing things they were thankful for.

Some were thankful for their families. Some were thankful for their homes. One or two kids were even thankful for school.

It came time for Hannah to share something she was thankful for. Guess what my sweet, selfless girl said?

"I am thankful for myself."

Um, yeah.

Healthy self-esteem, anyone?

Thanksgiving Teepee Cupcakes, revisited

Remember how I made these last year for the cub scouts? I figured I could try and cute them up a little bit for this year, as well as provide you with clearer instructions.

Aren't you excited?

[On a side note, the Husband has been mocking me all day because I have been touting my creativity for inventing these. He does not believe that I came up with them. It is surprising, yes, as I tend to not be all that creative. But these are my one and only contribution to the universe, such as they are.]

Yay me. And yay for you, universe.

So, let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Mix a cake mix according to the package directions. You will need to get a disposable aluminum baking pan. Turn the pan upside down and poke a few small holes (maybe a half inch wide). Fill your sugar cones two-thirds full of batter and stand them up in the holes in your pan like this:

They tend to topple as the batter rises, so you need to keep an eye on them in the oven. You may have to stick your hand in the hot oven and right the toppled ones. Be very careful when doing this. Hot ovens can burn you.

Stellar instructions, no?

Also, you should put your oven rack on the lowest shelf possible, so as to keep the tops from getting too brown. The bottoms will be very brown, but we will take care of that later on.

Bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes, or until the batter springs back lightly when touched. Remove from the oven and immediately snip off the bottom of the sugar cone (which will now become the top of our teepee). You must do this immediately when the cone is still warm and soft. Otherwise, it will break into pieces.

You can also snip off the cupcake if it's too rounded, ensuring that your teepee will stand flat. The bite you cut off goes in your mouth. Do not skip this step. It's very important. You must not discard those bites. Eat them. Eat them now, dammit.

Then take three pretzel rods and stick them on the top of your teepee. I used bamboo skewers and/or toothpicks last year, but a reader gave me the pretzel rod idea, which I totally like better [thanks, tallkate!]. I also found the whole pretzel to be a little long, so I broke each piece in half before inserting it into top of the teepee.

Your teepees will now look like this:

While they are adorable, they are not quite done. Melt a handful of chocolate chips in the microwave and stir until smooth. Dip the bottom of your teepee in the chocolate like this:

Doing that kind of seals the cupcake in and prevents our friend gravity from pulling it downward. Then roll it in green sprinkles for grass (or autumn leaf sprinkles for leaves), or pink barbie sprinkles, if that's your thing, and so on. I went for the grass and leaves. I'm such a traditionalist, I know:

Take a little of the melted chocolate and pipe around the pretzels to hold them in place (and provide a delicious bit of chocolate pretzel to eat later).

And voila! A happy little Indian village to decorate your table at Thanksgiving.

Any questions?

You're totally welcome, universe.