It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Christmas card 2014

It's Christmas card season!  I love Christmas cards. Opening my mailbox to piles of crisp, creamy envelopes every afternoon makes me so happy.  I save mine every year and bind them together so I can look back and remember what 2011 looked like, for example.  But the first thing I think of when I recall taking our family Christmas card when I was younger was, "which sister is going to cry first?" and, "how mad is dad going to get?"  My money was always on Alex, and pretty mad, respectively.

Life Hack #3

JK.

More like this today.

When I was in high school, I had this odd habit of waking up in the middle of the night in a panic and thinking I'd overslept. Instead of checking the clock like a normal person, I'd sprint into the shower and inevitably my dad would knock on the bathroom door and say, "Bear.  It's 2:30.  Go back to bed."  This happened multiple times. I'd wash my hair, put my wet head on my pillow and sleep another four hours before I actually had to get up and start the daily grind.
 

Raise your hand, if like me, you washed your hair every day when you were in high school. EVERY DAY.  Put your hand down if you, like me, have realized the error of your ways.  Good.  Wait.  Why are there still hands in the air?  Ladies, we gotta fix this.  You need this hack because I know you need more time in the morning.  And your hair needs to look better.  It just does.  You deserve it.  Guys, this post, like the eyebrow hack from a few months ago, may not be super applicable to you, because you are not as pretty or nice smelling as us.  But read on anyway, just so you know what us pretty lady folk have to think about.

Back when I was a serial washer, I had this ginormous mane of curly auburn hair that I would wash morning after morning, and maybe by the time 6th hour rolled around it would be dry.  I don't know why I thought I needed to wash my coarse, curly hair every day, but I did.  I didn't even exercise daily.  I wasn't in any sports (shocker), and I can tell you I didn't break much of a sweat in my choir rehearsals or piano lessons.  When my younger sisters got to junior high and high school and started to care about their hair, I would watch in dismay as they'd blow dry and curl and straighten only to wash said styles out the next morning. I begged, I pleaded, staaaahp it! Stop the daily assault on your follicles! It took years of pleading and reasoning and proof, but they are now all proud members of the see how long I can go without washing my hair club.  Sometimes I'm a little ashamed because their general level of hygenie has taken a hit (ALEXIS) but, you can't win em all.

So hair's the deal. Your scalp produces oil, just like the rest of your skin.  It works its way from the root of your hair to the surface of your scalp at a rate that is unique to you.  If you have oily skin, you likely have an oily scalp, and if you're on the dry side, a dry scalp. If you have oily skin and fine hair, you may feel it's impossible to skip a day or you will look like a hillbillly before day's end.  Not so.  By over washing your scalp you're actually sending those oil glands into over drive -- she's washing all our hard work away, ramp up boys, we'll show her! -- and you actually end up with even greasier hair. Don't believe me? Just read: http://www.businessinsider.com/how-often-should-i-wash-my-hair-2015- 

It's going to take some time to teach your oil glands that they can just chill, but stick with it. Stay strong. And invest in a few products to get you through the non-washing days. I don't want any of you walking around looking horrible and blaming me, okay? The trick is to look like you've washed and styled, and it'll be our little secret that you haven't.

Have you heard of dry shampoo? (This might be old information for many of you, but I'm sure you agree, it's worth sharing.  Stay with me, there's good stuff at the end.) It's basically pressurized powder you can spray on the roots of your hair to absorb extra oil, and it will be your best friend on non-washing days. As with all beauty products, dry shampoos range in price and quality, and in many cases, you get what you pay for.  Fear not, loyal friend, I have most assuredly done the leg work for you and I will now share with you my top dry shampoo choices.  I am always open to suggestions, so speak up if you've found something that is especially bomb.

In my opinion, the best inexpensive have-on-hand option isn't actually a dry shampoo, but straight up baby powder, right from the bottle.  

Shake that magic gently on your scalp, let it sit for a minute and then brush or finger comb it out.  If you have dark hair or roots you're gonna have to work the powder in for a few minutes so it blends in. It's going to take some time to master, but be patient.  It works!  Think about the time when you were at that sophisticated dinner party and got salad dressing on your silk blouse and that supremely elegant woman came running with baking powder and told you to apply some to soak up the oil in order to get the stain out.  Never happened to you? Me either.  But, powder absorbs oil.  No difference if it's on your face, your shirt, or your head. It's science.  If you're looking to venture into the non-washing world, but don't want to spend much, or maybe use something you already own, this is where to start. One bottle will last you years, and the baby scent will make you feel sweet, even if you hate your coworkers/life/outfit that day.

If you're willing to jump right into the dry shampoo world, the best bargain dry shampoo I've used is Dove.  

It's got a nice clean scent and it's really light.  The advantage of a dry shampoo versus a powder is better precision from the aerosol spray head.  You can spray it exactly where you want it, let it sit for a minute and then work it through your hair.  It'll buy you at least a day, and it's great for after a work out (unless you're running a marathon.  Then feel free wash away).  Runners up in this price segment are Batiste and Pssssst!  Avoid Tressemme, it stinks.

The best luxury brand I've used is Living Proof dry shampoo.  

It's newer to the market and it's pricey, at least for my standards ($22 a bottle).  It smells great and is super absorbent.  Living Proof claims that, unlike normal dry shampoos which only soak up oil, their formula traps oil, sweat, and odor, and when the spray gets brushed/ finger combed out, all the gunk is completely eliminated.  I've used it a few times and I've gotten daaayys out of it (like 5).  Take a look:

No filter. Just for you.

On day one (last Thursday) I washed, dried and flat ironed, so it's remained straight and pretty good looking for 5 days.  Also I just taught a yoga class.  And I'm clearly not wearing makeup. Judge away.  I also like this stuff because it builds really good volume without feeling gritty.  This one is a game changer friends.  Go get a bottle.  

Alright ladies, hit me with your questions and concerns, and all you non-washing veterans, feel free to pipe up and tell the others how much better your life is, and how they, too, can have a better life. I understand everyone's hair and lifestyle is different, so I don't expect it's possible for most of you to be quite as lazy as I am. But if this can save you even a day or two, it's worth it, no? Now go forth and stop washing!

This is what two years looks like

Where do I start?  How about here:

Grace has seemed to understand that her parents really get into this kind of thing, and she willingly obliges us with faces and poses.  Not all of which work.  But her effort is always appreciated.

I think she has model potential, but if you ask her, she has princess potential.  ELSA potential.  She watched Frozen for the first time in spring at her Papa Giant's house and there was no going back.  It was love at first watch.  I thought she would be a little young to really "get it" but she will watch the whole movie, from start to finish.  I have a hard time paying attention to one thing for that long.  Not Grace.  She gets up and bops along to the songs, singing the lyrics to "Let it Go" and "Yowman." Mimi has gifted her with a few Elsa and Anna articles of clothing that I sometimes have to hide because they are alllll she wants to wear.  And she is the only one in this house with an enviable wardrobe so she is going to wear her cute clothes. Please Grace? NO. "Uh-uh, no.  No mommy.  No.  No mom." As I write this she's watching Toy Story 3 (she'll watch all of this one too, score!) and wearing Elsa leggings, a purple floor length Tinkerbell gown (THANKS MIMS) and Frozen socks, eating Scooby snacks from a Frozen tumbler.

And now is the moment where we collectively judge me for letting my not even 2 year old watch feature length movies.  I know. Screen time. But she's so lively and bright, I'm not too worried about it. PLUS I CAN DO STUFF. WIN WIN.

Here are some more things Grace is up to these days:

We spend a lot of time picking out outfits and trying on tutus.  A lot of time. I believe I am now more than qualified to work as a negotiator for the UN.



She can sing the entire alphabet all by herself. And she can count to 20!  Except she kind of has a speech impediment where she can't say the letter 'S' very well.  Yix, Yeven, you get the picture.  I'm not worried about it yet.  But her dad is. She knows all her colors, animals, fruits, vegetables, basically she's a real human now.  She also can't really say 'K' very well, so pink and pancake sound more like peent and pantate.  She also likes to say WATE UP MOMMY if I'm not quick enough to respond to something, which is completely condescending and totally hilarious.  Except for the time we were trying to go to sleep and she reached over, squeezed my throat and whispered "wate up mommy" quietly into my ear and I was actually a little freaked out.


She loves to play with dolls and babies, and Eric and I are continually amazed at how this seems to be hard wired into her.  We have trucks and cars and Storm Troopers that sit neglected on our toy shelves, because babies always win out. She enjoys having her little friends to join her on her daily adventures.  Also we've given each baby a distinct personality, which makes it extra fun for her, extra crazy for mom and dad to keep them straight.  I think she is going to adore being a big sister, although she is so tenderhearted I don't know if she's going to be able to take it.  She just has the biggest, softest heart and it doesn't take much to reduce her to tears.  Not always sad tears,  just, tender, unable to bear the feelings tears.  Especially mommies and babies -- they just push her over the EDGE and I'm PREGNANT so ME TOO.  We gotta buck up or we're never going to survive the spring.




She's a genius at playing pretend, she can keep herself busy for a half hour at a time, spinning creative little dramas with her dolls, buddies, sometimes her toes and fingers.  We were gifted a kitchen set from her idol big cousin Mya and that is her JAM.  Mac and cheese mommy?  Cookie mommy? Yamich mommy?  Yes please, Grace.  And a side of skittles please? Maybe a cherry Coke?  She's not a great eater lately, but one thing we can get into is going to Jimmy Johns and sharing turkey sub and a bag of "awful chips" (sea salt and vinegar.) She licks all the salt and vinegar off of them and kind of makes a wincey, cringey face the whole time, but she'd eat the whole bag if I'd let her.  I'm impressed.  She'll try almost anything and she's been known to switch her mind on things she's previously dismissed, although she prefers fruit snacks and i-ream from Mimi more than anything else.  If she wants more of something, food, finger paint, juice, she would like it "really high." As in, "more purple paint, yeah, really high!"

She loves to have her nails and toe nails painted and, amazingly, will sit patiently until they are dry. We clip her nails and hangnails with a nail clipper and, for some reason, she has equated this to asking for a clippy anytime she finds something wrong on her body.  Scrape on her knee..."clippy?"
Scab on her face..."clippy?"  Weird how these little brains work.

We are working on creating her big girl room and I'm hopeful she will be so excited to have her new space she will just crawl into bed, turn out the lights, and sleep 10 hours until the morning.  More likely, around midnight she'll join me in my bed and Eric will climb between the ballerina sheets and tutu duvet and we'll all sleep soundly till the morning.  Kids sleep habits are so hard to figure out.  God Bless you with littles that don't like to sleep alone.  May the good Lord grant you extra patience and a king bed.  Grace and I lay down together at night, a bad habit that started early in my pregnancy because I was just too tired to deal with our normal bedtime routine.  It started sweet and cute and efficient, now it's a masterclass in manipulation. The best thing to come of it though, is when she reaches over and pries open one of my eyelids and says, "Build a yoman, mommy?" Just like Anna asks Elsa in the beginning of Frozen.  Makes me smile every time.





She loves to play outside but after being spoiled by such delightful late summer and early autumn weather, she HATES to wear anything with sleeves. Or socks. "Dess on RIGHT NOW mommy!"  We're in for a long winter.  I miss her one-year-old cluelessness when I could put her in beanies and fuzzy vests and she wouldn't protest.  I admire her two year old spirit, though.  She's brave, independent, but still vulnerable and knows she's little and needs help. It's refreshing to witness little children's bravery. It can be literally a little dangerous, but I think we all could take notes from toddlers in this respect.  Be brave!  Try stacking the block tower a little bit higher.  Jump off two couch cushions instead of one. Say hi to someone new at the library, even if it is just a flag hung from the ceiling that has a picture off a scarecrow waving. (That happened.  It was hilarious.)  It's hard to find the balance of how much to help and how much to just let her figure things out. I think this is going to be a life long lesson, to always remember to step back and assess, am I doing this well?  Am I giving her enough freedom?  Enough support?  We have a tendency to over talk and over reason with her because she's so aware and bright, and we sometimes forget her two-year-old brain is only capable of so much, no matter how smart she is. She keeps us on her toes, and the process of raising her does, too.  Parenthood is the best education I've ever received.





As I am finishing this post, November 1st is coming to a close, and I have one more full day with my one-year-old.  There's so much more I want to say and remember about this sweet girl -- brushing teeth with Dada, her impressive manners (she said "excuse me dada" the other day when she needed to get around him.  I was stunned), when I shout "I love Gracie!" and she shouts back, "I love mommy!"  Or how she calls herself "mommy's girl," her love for paninis and mac and cheese, how she said, "Look mommy, yars!" when we got out of the car tonight, and proceeded to count as many stars as she could see.  I love this girl.  I remember feeling so bittersweet at the thought of her turning 1.  Now, I'm so excited that she's 2.  I've had her for two whole years, and every day with her has made me better, more appreciative, more humble, more thankful for life...what's to say every year with her won't make me more and more complete?  Motherhood...I like the way you look on me.  Thank you, Grace. And happy birthday!

Baby reveal

A jedi, Anna, and Elsa walked into a garage on Halloween Eve, anxious to see what kind of baby will be joining the Nycz ranks.

The majority of guesses, including mine and Eric's, were boy.  We were hoping for something a little cuter than this...

Still, about thirty percent of the group was counting on a baby girl...

Cuter.  But I think we've got some work to do.

We haven't had time to go through the photos from the big event, but inquiring minds want to know, what kind of baby are we having?

2. For our resident almost 2 years old.  And 2, for 2 little girls. 2 sisters.  

We're waiting on another little girl! 

Many of you know we have a rich tradition of beautiful women in my family, and I'm soo happy to be doing my part to keep this legacy alive. I am beyond excited to watch my girls, these two new sisters, grow up together. 

Eric was really shocked because he was sure it was a boy, just like knew, unequivically, that Grace was a girl. He also asked that I please paste this here:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/0399534539/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?qid=1446326724&sr=8-1&pi=SY200_QL40&keywords=why+beautiful+people+have+more+daughters&dpPl=1&dpID=41I%2Bt39i7jL&ref=plSrch

Of course we would have have enjoyed experiencing the world of baby boys, for those of you who are wondering. But not  right now! Besides, I think God has a way of giving us exactly what we need.

More to come from the Mother of Daughters, but for now, Happy Halloween!!

A quick revelation

Today, for the second time ever, I got to do one of my favorite things -- I got to see my tiny unborn child inside of me.  Science, man.  Science!  Thank you science people!  I got to see a perfectly formed, tiny human swirling and twirling around inside of my body.  Perfect hands, feet, four chambers of a perfect heart, a spine, a brain, the amazing place where the umbilical cord connects us...I got to see it all.  And marvel.  And guess at the gender.  I was in awe of the whole experience, and I remarked to the kind ultrasound tech how astounded I was, being able to see this, again.  She said, "I've been doing this for thirty years, and each time I think it's a miracle."  Indeed.

Which got me thinking...are we any less miraculous now, because we are no longer unborn?  I don't think so.  You, reader, are a MIRACLE.  You and I both started out just like this little person inside of me, we defied insurmountable odds to be here, and yet...here we are.  Here.  Alive.  Doing things.  Sometimes miraculous things. Like making other people. And crafting ginormous televisions.

And so, I've got all these big feelings, big thoughts, big BIG stuff rolling around in my brain while I go about the rest of my day preparing for our gender reveal party and Grace's birthday party.  Tonight's Thursday-- CHOIR NIGHT BABY -- and marveled at the pink and purple sunset as I got into my car.  Feelings, guys.  Lots of them. Sunsets, babies, songs....we're singing "Lullabye" by James Taylor and EVERY TIME it makes me cry.  Including tonight.  Tonight there were actual tears.  I tried to be discreet.  It was embarrassing.  And then, it was time for the Gershwin medley, and lo and behold, I start the whole piece off with a little jazzy a-capella-y solo.  Now, this is not really my normal MO, I'm more of a sit-in-silent-judgment-of-the-other-brave-singers type of gal.  But, I'm the soloist on this one, so I wiped my tears, and for the first time in front of people, I sang my few little bars of Gershwin.  And. I. Sucked. Oh man, I thought when it was over. How did I suck so much?  Everyone's silence was so... judgmental. My nose was runny. That was stupid and I sucked.  Shit.  I sucked! Am I going to ruin the whole concert?  I hate sucking.

And then I checked my phone and had a message from Eric that I took the wrong car, the one with the car seat, to choir so he and Grace weren't able to run the errands for the party like they had planned.  FOR REAL?  Get your head out of the sunset pregs, and pay attention!  I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck.

And then, Jr gave me a swift kick in the navel and I was reminded -- I'm doing something miraculous here.  I'm still a miracle.  I have two spines in me right now.  And two hearts.  Maybe that's why I'm such a hot mess of emotions. Do you suck right now too?  Who cares!  Let's suck together and then stand up and try again because we defy the odds, all day every day.  All the odds.  Defied. Just by existing. Gershwin will be there to tackle another day. We should not, we cannot be afraid to fall on our faces and make big, huge, stupid mistakes because we have nothing to lose. Our very existence is miraculous.

People were kind to me after my attempt at singing and said things like, "nice solo!" and I got to look them in the eye and say, "No it wasn't," and we got to laugh together, and that helped me to stand up and remember it's good to try again.  Do you suck right now?  Did you fail today? That's okay, because at the core of everything, you, reader, are a miracle.  You have limitless potential.  Limitless second chances to learn the real lessons. Take it from me.  Today I got to see how we all start out.  Tiny, swirly, connected.  Miraculous.

The pause

I've had so much on my mind lately friends, so much I want to say and share.  I just...I just haven't been able to get the words down.

Life Hack #2

Do you know what sucks?  Cleaning your house.  Don't get me wrong, when it's done, it's lovely and such a relief, and I think, "I love my house!  I love it here!  This cannot be the same spot where the apocalypse happened just hours ago, can it?" But then, inevitably, you blink your eyes and it all needs to get done again.  It's stupid and bothersome and I have better things to do with my time.  I would love to hire someone who enjoys cleaning to come and work his or her magic in my kingdom, but alas, I cannot spring for such luxury at this point in my life, and so, Eric and I are forced to do it ourselves.  Let me rephrase: I do it myself and sometimes I force Eric to help. I generally make him do all the nasty stuff because I do everything else all while carrying our unborn children, like the oven and shower, and he has special products he has purchased to make his dirty jobs easier.

Please, no, not the oven cleaner!

Life Hack #1

Hello ladies and gentlemen!  Happy Tuesday!

Have you ever gone through life thinking the world works a certain way, only to find out you were W-R-O-N-G?

I'm sure you have.  Childhood is full of these little discoveries.  You mean not everyone watches Survivor with their extended family and draws names to see which character you'll be that season?  You're kidding me.  I had a friend once who didn't know you were supposed to wash your bras.  She's a really smart, normal person -- it just never dawned on her to wash her bras.  (This was in high school, so luckily, this was remedied rather quickly in the grand scheme of things.)  It's little things like this that seem trivial, but can make a person question what else in life they've missed if this isn't what they thought it to be. You know?

Turn that frown upside down, mama

Do you ever wake up in the morning and find yourself in a grumpy grouchy mood for no apparent reason?  I hate that.  Maybe it's because I look like this:

Thanks, Grace

I think those clippies brought out my Oscar alter ego because I am a grouch today. My kitchen was a mess when I came downstairs, my dog was not well behaved on our walk, my husband kept making these snorting noises while eating a chocolate doughnut, I can't stop thinking about fleas, I wish I could get my act together to get to church but I suck, my Facebook news feed is full things about that dingbat county clerk and I just wish the world would STOP WASTING IT'S PRECIOUS TIME ON THIS NONSENSE, and enter any other thing that might not be quite perfect, it's on my list. This is a bad way of thinking, of existing, but sometimes I just really like to INDULGE A LITTLE IN SOME SELF PITY.  Luckily my daughter is incredibly cute and charming and she's snapping me out of it, tiny hair clips and all.  But still.  Wahh me.


So instead of over-analyzing everything around me and writing about it, the results of which would undoubtedly be a whole bunch of self-righteous drivel that would eventually shame me and go unpublished, I will tell you about something I am currently very passionate about.  Heirloom tomatoes.

We grew that.

Heirloom tomatoes.  At the risk of coming off like some sort of yuckity upper class organic bycz, please know I am not. Grace ate 2 turkey dogs yesterday, thank you very much. An heirloom tomato is simply a plant whose seeds have been passed down for several generations.  Think of them as the family jewels of the tomato family.  For good reason.  They are gorgeous, full of flavor, and if you're in the Midwest, they're in full force right now.  If you are a gardener, I implore you to do some digging (punny) and find heirloom seeds for next season, if you don't already grow them.  I know so many people who grow little pots of romas and cherry tomatoes, and while these are certainly delicious and worthy, with a little more space, you could have the kingpin of the tomato world in your own back yard.  Do it. These little beauties go for $4 a pound at our farmers market, so it's well worth a little work to grow your own.  Especially if you're a fan of deliciousness. Now I'm going to share a little secret with you that will make those of you who love heirlooms cringe a little, because at $4 a pound one might think using 10 (or more) lbs of tomatoes for something as ordinary as salsa would be frivolous. But since we are pulling pounds and pounds in from our garden on a daily basis, and my father in law is pulling in hundreds of pounds every few days, we can indulge in a little frivolity.  And the results are just. so. worth it.

So here's what you do.  Depending on the volume of salsa you're looking for determines how many tomatoes you'll use.  Generally though, you'll need about 2/3 tomatoes (a greater variety will give you greater taste!) to 1/3 combined onion and sweet pepper.  Then you need to grab a variety of hot peppers (PUT THE JALAPENO DOWN AND BRANCH THE EFF OUT, PEOPLE), a nice fresh bunch of cilantro, and you're in business.  The best part is you can buy all of this stuff at your local farmer's market, and you're supporting someone's very worthy livelihood while eating healthy in the process.  Win win.

You might be thinking, lady, I know how to make salsa.  Stop wasting my time with your self-righteous drivel.   Stick with me.  Finely chop your veggies.  This may take awhile.  Depending upon your level of dedication you may choose to purchase an industrial grade "smasher" (AKA the beast) to speed the process along.  Mince your hot peppers and add to taste, and throw in a whole bunch of bright, fresh cilantro.

Hello, beasty.

This taste part is where I might lose some of you.

I'm going to let you in on a Nycz family secret.  I'm sorry if this isn't mine to share, but the Nyczs are a generous people and I don't think they will mind. You have to taste the salsa to make sure the balance of ingredients is on point and that the heat level is what you're looking for.  You must taste and eat this salsa on a very specific type of chip.

A Dorito.

I'm sorry let me try that again with a little less embarrassment this time.

A Dorito.

Dang it Erin.  Buck up.  You have to eat this salsa on  A DORITO. 

Yes, I'm asking you take an 8 calorie a spoonful salsa and use a 30 calorie commercially produced cancer wafer to deliver it to your mouth.  But you're going to have to trust me.

My husband's family are the ones responsible for my love of this salsa, and for the invention of the fresh salsa + Dorito combination.  The first time I helped make a batch and Papa N asked me to taste it while simultaneously ripping open a bag of the magic cheddar triangles, I looked at him like he had lost his marbles.  To me, Doritos were a chip you only eat in the privacy of your own home where no one can watch you and even then you only have a few on your sandwich to add a little extra crunch.   No way was I going to ruin this beautiful, organic treat with the white trashiest chip around.  No. Way.

Until I did, and I fell in love.  Might even be part of the reason I married Eric.

I'm telling you, it's a great flavor combination, the super bright, fresh flavors of the salsa and the salty, savory sensation of the Dorito is a win win.  It's the kind of stuff you'll come to crave every August as the tomatoes start to ripen on the vine.  We've turned several friends into full-blown addicts.

If you are a gardener and you're looking for things to do with your tomatoes, here are a few recipes I have deemed tried and true.  Remember, I don't like to do hard things, so bear with me on this.  Some of them are a little bit time intensive, but they don't require a ton of work.

If you make any homemade pizzas or pastas during the winter months, this paste will be an awesome addition where you can definitely taste the difference versus a store bought variety.  If you're attempting this, my advice would be to skip the food mill process and just chop your tomatoes, bake for ten minutes, and then run them over with an immersion blender (or regular blender).  The skins and seeds just add more depth to the sauce.  Also I don't like to do hard things. This whole blog is awesome. Enjoy!

http://theitaliandishblog.com/imported-20090913150324/2009/9/20/make-your-own-tomato-paste-estratto.html

I stumbled upon this next recipe two years ago when I was sick of making sauces on the stove top.  We generally make big batches and then freeze them to enjoy in the winter months, but these stove top sauces were coming out too watery.  So I tried roasting the veggies and BINGO, a richer, less watery sauce was born.  I'll never go back.  Also, EASY peasy.  Skip the skinning of the tomatoes, unless they're super thick and/or easy to peel off.  I'm telling you, this is so dang good.

http://www.marthastewart.com/337008/roasted-tomato-sauce

This is the part where you can share with me, via comments or Facebook, if you've got any tomato recipes that are game changers (REMEMBER I DON'T LIKE TO DO HARD THINGS). Send them my way.  It might just turn your frown upside down.  Case in point:

Sightly out of focus, but she's squirmy :)

Bon Appetit! 

This is Major

Gather round children, it's time for a story!  I crafted this one just for you to read right now instead of brainlessly scrolling through your Facebook news feed.

This is what almost 2 looks like

 Pretty cute, huh?

Breathing in Time and Space

Summer is my upper.  I've been enjoying time with my family, warm (ish) days by the pool, playing outside until it's dark.  I'm up.  I feel very up.  I've also been taking time to indulge one of my great loves -- reading.  Recently, I've read Carry On Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton (more on this) Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott, The Girl On the Train, and repeatedly fell asleep to You are Here: A Portable History of the Universe.  I've learned a lot of things from these books.  My favorite beyond favorite book I've read in a long, long time is Carry On Warrior.  Like go out and buy this book NOW.  Melton, with whom I agree on almost everything, wrote, "reading is my inhale and writing is my exhale."  Well said.  After a long slow breath in, I need the release of writing.

This is what 19.5 months looks like...

And it looks like an explosion.  An explosion of toys scattered throughout our house and lawn, an explosion of limbs as she tears down the side walk. It tastes like an explosion of yogurt as she decides spoons are the worst and fingers are where it is at.  It sounds like an explosion of words and syllables and animal noises.  It feels like an explosion of life itself, as she flexes her own muscles and discovers the world around her.

Numbers

We measure our lives with numbers.  I'll be there in 15 minutes! (yeah, right) Two years ago at this time I was eating frozen custard every day, and one year ago I was going crazy.  In five months my daughter will be two years old.  And so on.  This week, we celebrated Anna's high school graduation. 13 years of math tests, spelling lists, and food science projects in the books. And in return, Anna received her diploma.

Growing up...on a Tuesday

Growth

: to become larger : to increase in size, amount, etc.

: to become better or improved in some way : to become more developed, mature, etc.

: to become larger and change from being a child to being an adult as time passes

Not a Griswold Family Vacation

It's Turks time!  Finally! At the end of March, my parents rented a beautiful home on Chalk Sound on the island of Providenciales in Turks and Caicos, and invited my band-of-wildlings sisters, our husbands, our Gracie, and a Schuette cousin to join them in paradise. I'm so excited to share these glorious photos and wonderful memories with you, my loyal readership. Before we get there, you should know that this post will function as a giant thank you to my parents for their generosity and accommodation.  We have all contributed some thoughts and a few favorite memories that wouldn't have been possible without the benevolence of Tami and Hanser, aka Mimi and Papa.  

This is what 17.5 months looks like

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an almost one and a half year old in my house!

Love Bunny.  That's what her shirt says.  Thanks Mimi.

Guest Post - Not To Them, Not That Way

I can't even.  I hate Duke.  HATE them.  I grew up rooting for Carolina (my parents became sports fans because of me - I taught them - so they didn't teach me to root for the home team, I figured that out later).  Hurley.  Laettner. Langdon. RedDICK. Wojo.  Jesus, those asshats were dicks.  Coach Kzeshekcovkdiacbbi.  Or whatever the heck his name is.  No one.  NO ONE likes that team unless your first name is Douche and your last name is Bag.  So this.  This abomination of a game really, really pisses me off.

I'm not here to talk about how we outplayed these private school poops (that IS what a dook is, right?).  I'm not going to break it down.  If you didn't see it, then you don't know basketball.  I'm not going to go on and on about how hard it is to play 5 on 8.  How those Stevie Wonders couldn't even get a replay right.  How I now know what it felt like to be a Seahawks fan when they lost that Super Bowl to the Steelers.  Or a Kings fan when the Lakers shot 134 free throws in the 4th quarter of that 2002 Conference Finals game.  Or a Bucks fan during the 2001 Eastern Conference Finals.  Wait, I do know what that's like!

No, I'm here to talk about Jim Nantz, Bill Raferty, and Grant Hill.  What. The. Hell.  To paraphrase the headphone mogul, Dr. Dre: CBS can eat a big fat D.  I'm never watching your channel again (unless, of course, I have a team playing on it, and there is no other option).  The LEAST biased announcer on that crew was Grant Hill.  And he won 2 NCAA Championships PLAYING AT DUKE FOR COACH K!  I mean, if I never hear Raferty's voice again it'll be too soon.  All I can hear is his "AND THE FRESHMAN HAS STONES OF STEEL" when Duke hit something, only to be immediately followed with: "well, they needed that" when Frank the Tank hit a three to counter.  I actually wanted to punch him more during that game than Duke's #3.  And that's saying something, because that kid need a good fist to the face.  Hard.  But I digress.

The Final Four allowed viewers to get local announcing crews by switching the channel to another affiliate.  You could watch TruTV (1 - that's a REAL channel... I looked it up and everything; 2 - I feel like we got TruTV because that's the crap channel, and that's how CBS thought of us) and have real, live Wisconsin voices on your telecast.  That was great!  I didn't have to listen to some national guy beg for Kentucky to go 40-0.  But for the Final?  No.  I get Grant effing Hill.  And Raferty.  I need a shower.  Go Big Red.  And this.

-the hubby

Chopped

Its spring!  At least that's what the calendar says.  These flurries might say otherwise, but I'm soo ready to do some spring cleaning.  You feel me?  Time to air out the old and bring in the fresh spring air and energy. This time of year, I'm constantly cleaning out drawers, donating old clothing, shifting and reorganizing to make my life more streamlined.

In addition to organization, I like to give my life a little face lift every now and again.  I tend to decorate my house seasonally, shifting and moving furniture and other odds and ends to match my mood and the time of year.  Georgia shared with you my new wood floors, and I'm in the process of planning an overhaul for my living room.  On a budget.  Like, all I can afford is paint and lampshades.  But it's going to be cool!  It's a part of who I am, I think, to want to change up and make beautiful my surroundings.

And sometimes, I look in the mirror and think, girlfriend, let's switch it up.

What do you mean, switch it up? You look great....(that's sarcasm, in case the sarcasm font doesn't show up.)

Confessions of a Leap Year Baby

Birthdays are fun, right? Remember back in elementary school when you would bring in a special treat for your birthday and everyone would sing to you and your teacher would say really nice things about you?  I got to do that twice.  When I was eight and twelve.

In kindergarten, when I was turning 1 1/2,  my very sweet teacher pulled me in front of the class on my "birthday" (February 28th) and gave everyone a lengthy explanation about leap year, which involved a beach ball sun, a globe, and me demonstrating the earth's orbit.  I did my best to nod, smile and add in a few tidbits of information -- and generally just tried to appear way less confused than I actually was. Am.

This is what 15 months looks like

Right now, Grace is napping and I am struck by how much she's changed the past few weeks.  I've gotta write some of this stuff down so I don't forget.  This kid is amazing.  So smart, so sweet, so fun...so much personality.

Guest Post

Well hello everyone.  I'm Georgia, and I'm just delighted that mummy is finally sharing her blog with me.  It's about time, really.  I can't tell you what she's put me through the past year...really, bringing home that demanding little cry baby Grace, thinking she can just GO back to work, never letting my bestie Bellina come to visit, hardly letting me vacation at Grandma's...it's almost criminal.

But this latest stint? THIS IS WHERE I DRAW THE LINE.  Read on, dear ones, and I am sure you will see what I mean. Sure I love her, but she's just so unfair.

Coming Home

Would you rather show up for a party under or overdressed? It’s a strange feeling, when you show up somewhere having totally missed the mark, attire-wise. With the first glimpse of a patent leather pump, everything you thought the event was going to be is chucked out the window while you search for some red lipstick, something, anything, to help you find a place in the orbit of the party for which you are clearly not prepared.  Oops. I now tend toward overdressed.

when in doubt, wear a tutu.

Why it feels as though I've been punched in the gut.

Can I let you in on my dirty little secret?

I bought a tanning package.

You might wonder WHY a twenty-first century lady like myself would spend a couple of minutes a day, a few days a week in a cancer bed when she absolutely knows better?

  Let me show you.

Surprisingly, my employer has not yet issued pink gorilla suits as standard wardrobe, so thankfully, that is not me in the photo above.

Holidaze

Guys!  It’s a new year!  I hope you’re off to a great start.  We had a great holiday, and now that things have settled down, I'm excited to share some of the highlights of our Christmas.