Blessed

Mother's Day for me was one of the best. With church at nine a.m., I woke early to breakfast in bed and four smiling faces. The presents they gave me were much more than I deserved and proved definitively that diamonds really are a girl's best friend.

Leaving for church, I glanced behind me with a smile at the spotless kitchen that I had nothing to do with cleaning.

Lunch and dinner were made while I sat on the couch in my bare feet with the iPad. Diet cokes were topped off and treat samples brought to me for tasting.

I tried not to laugh too hard at the sight of the Husband decorating the coconut cupcakes. Somehow a pastry bag does not look very much at home in his big hands. But they were as delicious as they were beautiful.

I was pampered and loved, and felt utterly appreciated.

These four fantastic people in my life are a miracle. I love them with the whole of my heart.

Redefining classy

Chase has recently begun sprouting the beginnings of a mustache on his upper lip.

It is thrilling to everyone, of course, except his older brother, who - for reasons known only to the gods of manliness - is lacking a mustache of his own.

[That, and the fact that Chase is now taller than him, has become the bane of his very troubled existence.]

Last night at dinner the ever-palatable topic of the 'Stache came up yet again. Chase was asking me if the Husband has to shave every day, and how quickly the stubble grows back in. When he found out that it indeed does grow everyday if you don't shave it, he seemed pleased.

Then he said, "Yeah, I think I'm going to grow a two-foot long beard. They're just so classy."

Classy? Probably not the Vogue magazine definition of the word.

But I'd say it definitely suits him.

How-To Tuesday: How to make homemade pitas

Today's How-To post comes to you in one of my all-time favorite forms: The Carbohydrate.

Making your own pitas are so simple, you will never buy the cardboard tasting ones at the store ever again. Seriously. Stop buying that crap. They're gross and full of all kinds of preservatives. Spend a half hour or so making these and thank me later.

[I accept all forms of thanks, including, but not limited to: diet coke, cookies, and/or cash.]

Here's what you do: Take 1 1/4 cup warm water and add 2 1/2 tsp. yeast. Let it sit for about 10 minutes until the yeast is bubbled up.

Then add: 3 cups flour, 1/2 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. sugar, and 1 Tbsp. oil. Mix well.

Turn the dough onto the counter and knead well, adding flour as necessary. Divide the dough into eight equal parts. Roll each part into a ball, then flatten into a six-inch circle with your rolling pin.

Put circles on heavily-floured foil or parchment paper. Let rest for 30-45 minutes, until dough starts to slightly rise.

Then gently peel off each pita and place onto an ungreased baking sheet. You need to do this step; otherwise, they will stick to your pan as they rise in the oven.

Bake in a pre-heated 500 degree oven for about 3 minutes per side, turning halfway through. The pitas will puff up while baking. This gives you the hollow center for filling with deliciousness later.

Remove from the oven and stack pitas on top of each other, gently covering them with a towel. Let the pitas rest, and as the steam gradually escapes, each pita flattens out.

Slice in half with a serrated knife.

And, voila! A lovely little pocket just waiting to be filled with good things.

These are fantastic right out of the oven, can be made hours ahead, and even freeze well. Look at all the lovelies just waiting to be consumed:

Here are some of our fillings of choice.

[Not pictured: some chicken breast that I sauteed in a little bit of Italian dressing. Drizzle a little dressing onto your filled pita and you have a feast. (Though I am thinking Linsey's homemade hummus would be delish with these bad boys. Note to self: Get to the store ahead of time).]

And for a more printable version:

Pita pockets
1 pkg. yeast
1 1/4 cup warm water
3 cup flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. oil

Sprinkle yeast over water in large bowl. Let sit for 10 minutes or until yeast is bubbly. Add flour, sugar, salt, and oil. Mix well. Knead dough until soft; divide into 8 equal parts. Roll each part into a ball and flatten into a six-inch circle with a rolling pin. Let rest on floured tin foil for 30-45 minutes or until slightly puffy. Peel off foil and put onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake at 500 for 4-8 min. flipping halfway through. Stack on top of each other and cover loosely with dish towel to let steam escape. Slice in half and enjoy with your favorite salad or toppings.

And that's it. Your turn.

Teach me. Teach me now, dammit.

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Mamarazzi

More often than not, I have my camera packed away and I miss the opportunity to capture forever things that totally make me laugh.

Like this, taken moments after Hannah popped the lid off her pudding:

Unfortunately for her, I had the camera out and totally caught her in the act.

Don't worry, baby girl, I always lick the lid, too.

On princesses and fairy tale endings

I must interrupt the highbrow, intelligent, and sage wisdom that you usually find here to bring you my thoughts on the royal wedding.

I know. Somewhere in the world my brother Daniel just poked his eyeballs out.

But to understand my feelings on the subject, you must first know something:

I thought I was Princess Diana herself. Evidenced here:

As a little girl, I was forever ruined when I saw Diana march up that exceptionally long aisle with a bridal train that was four miles long. I knew I had to have one just like it.

And, minus a few poofy ruffles, her short hair, and the ugly, cheating husband: I did.

As I watched the nuptials this morning, the little girl inside me who dreams of fairy tale endings, rejoiced. Tears fell down my cheeks, and I was powerless to stop them.

Today, a simple girl walked into a church as a commoner, and walked out as a princess.

It is the very thing little girls dreams of. It is the happy ending in every story we read to our daughters. It is the epitome of love and romance -- to marry your prince (whether he be an actual prince or simply prince-like). There is not a shriveled heart alive in the world today that doesn't find that captivating, romantic, and hopeful.

And, oh sweet fancy moses, the dress.

One look at it, and I made a frantic, early morning phone call to the Husband demanding that we get married again. Just so I could wear THAT dress.

He offered to let me pick a different groom, too. [I've got a few calls in to Hugh and Colin's people. I'll let you know how it goes.]

But it was stunning, simple, modest, classic, and elegant. I will love it forever.

Here's hoping the fairy tale ends the way they're supposed to -- a long life together, babies, lots of love, and no one named Camilla.

Mama, I shrunk myself!

The other day while ignoring my children practicing hands-off parenting, I was interrupted in my reverie when a vehicle ran over my foot.

I looked down and this was the sight I saw:

Closer examination revealed an important message on my cell phone:

[In case you are blind], it said:

"Dear Mom, I am now the size of a pea. I had to duplicate myself to drive this car. Use this controller to change me back by pushing the stop button. Then count to twenty so the uv rays don't blind you. Thanks, Chase P.S. The tape doesn't hurt the phone"

I thought long and hard before making any decisions. After all, a pea-sized child might not be such a bad thing. Lower grocery bills, someone to spy on any conversation I want to listen to, less pants to grow out of.

But then I envisioned my rather sumptuous rear end accidentally sitting on the poor kid. Or accidentally sucking him up with the vacuum.

And that made me cry.

So I decided I better bring him back to normal size. I obeyed the instructions, keeping my eyes shut tight to protect me from the deadly UV rays.

After the longest twenty seconds of my life, I opened my eyes, and this was the sight I saw:

I guess now would be a good time to return that pea-sized dollhouse I bought him to live in, eh?