This is my Mom

This is who taught me (and still teaching me) everything I know about crafting, cooking, baking, cakes, gardening, and everything else domestic.  She's an awesome cook, mentor, and everything else.  She's going to teach me how to can and make jam next.  I haven't told her yet.

 There's nothing this woman can't do.

And she's tough as nails.  She nearly died last November from a rare autoimmune disorder that captured us all by surprise.  She spent 12 days in a medically-induced coma and literally was hours away from death when she arrived at the hospital.  I hope that I am somewhat like her, although, I hear that I am my father's daughter as well.
This picture was taken at Xmas last year, only a month after her stint in the hospital.  Doesn't she look great??

Anyway, I love this picture, so I thought I'd share it.

Priceless!

I couldn't resist posting a few more pics of my Loves on their shared birthday party.  M turned 6 and C turned 4.  Their birthdays are two weeks apart.  They always get a mini party on their actual birthdays and usually a shared party with our family.  I always make sure that they each get their own cake, though.

Shh!  Don't tell M I caught a picture of him with his glasses!

Ugh.  Those eyelashes kill me.  C got them, too.  Not fair!

The Party

Uncle R and Aunt J brought their popcorn machine.....

and a FREE jumpy house.  Very popular among the children and adults.

We had pie dies with ham and swiss cheese, cherry, or apple pie filling.  It was July and we had a bonfire.  In the blazing heat.  Probably not the smartest idea I ever had, but I really wanted a pie die.  Because I haven't been camping in 15 years.  I think I'm going to go camping next time.

Party favors rock.

Silly string fight!!!

New toys.....

This is the first year M tolerated the singing without running and hiding.  Priceless!

A great party.  'Til next year, my loves!

Cake

M's cake.  Devil's food sheet cake (2 mixes $1 ea. at Pick'n Save's 10 for 10 sale) :)

4 heart shaped mini cakes carved into mounds by using a container.  Hint-  Carving works best when the cake is frozen.

Mom's 'secret' buttercream frosting recipe multiplied by 6.  The edging is all the leftover balloon colors striped into one decorator bonnet.  I don't like to waste anything.

C's Tractor cake is one loaf pan and half another for the cab.  He specified it had to be blue.  We raised it off the plate with a slab of white cake leftover from the Balloon cake.  This cake ended up being trouble.  During the night the heavy end of the cake with the cab broke off and fell backwards onto the counter.  The Tootsie Roll smokestack kept wilting in the heat and we ended up staking it with a toothpick.  But with all the handling, it became mis-shapen.  Oh well, live an learn.

Chocolate donuts made great tires.  We used pretzel sticks to make the grill and two strawberry Starbursts for the headlights.  It looked more like a car, but to C, it was perfect and made from the heart.

Finished.

What's in a name?

I've been thinking about my recently passed dog, Ripley.  I've done little else since she was hit by a car last Tuesday.  For whatever reason, I started thinking about all her nicknames.  She was a GREAT dog, and she came to just about anything we called her.  Here's my list:

Rips
Rippy
Ripples
Ripper
Ripper-Roo
Pup
Pups
Pupperoni
Puppermill
Poop
Poops
Stink
Stinker
Stinky
Luv
Lovey

My Mom's nicknames for her....

Dummy
Stupid
The Dog
(Obviously she is not a pet person)

If my grandma was still alive, she'd call her...

Pooch

A memorial page will be coming soon......

Dysfunctional Coping Methods

My heart is shattered into a thousand pieces.  11 years bites the dust.  Yes, this destination seems to have been on the map for the last 3 years.  I was really hoping, praying, longing, for a last minute fork the in the road.  I was okay, or at least prepared, for that.  We could always turn back, right?

I wasn't expecting the gaping pot-hole (Grand Canyon?) that makes turning back NOT an option.

In case you were wondering, I'm not talking about the Griswold family vacation.

In my blubbering mess, I've succumbed to Dysfunctional Coping Methods.

1.  Hyperventilating until I puked.  3 times.
2.  Had to go home from the job I've only been at for 2 months because I couldn't keep my shit together for longer than 5 minutes.
3.  Bought my first pack of cigarettes since.......  2003?  When my step-father passed away. Holy SHIT- these suckers are expensive.  I'll have to find a substitute.
4.  Ate 3 sourdough english muffins with more butter and jelly than actual muffin.
5.  Then I ate a bowl of Cocoa Puffs.  By bowl, I mean filling to the top so that the cereal actually spills out the top, eating those pieces that fell out, and then drowning it all in milk until I could barely carry the damn bowl to the couch.
6.  Which leads me to forfeiting any foods that I cannot eat while laying under a blankie on the couch.
7.  Then I wanted to puke again.  Cocoa Puffs are really gross in mass quantities.
8.  Deleting the entire DVR menu.
9.  Vacillating between rage and grief about 12,459,1033 times each day.
10.  Blogging about it when I should just keep it to myself.

In addition to these dysfunctional methods, I have engaged in some proper ones.  So I guess I'm not a total loss yet.
I've had an outpouring of support from family, coworkers, and friends who have been checking on me, keeping me busy, and offering lots of help and love.
They remind me to keep eating, keep sleeping, and keep breathing.  They remind me to take it hour by hour, day by day.

Plus, each time I look into the cherub faces of my boys, I am reminded that these two will never, EVER, let me down.

Playtime

Two times year, my brother T comes home from Los Angeles.  Summerfest and Christmas.  It always feels like forever in between.  But as little as we see him, the boys always remember their Uncle T.  Today C got a few hours of Uncle T all to himself while M was in therapy.  They constructed a helluva gear tower and  domino stairs.  Warms my heart to see them doing 'boy' things.  I'm sure it's as special to Uncle T as it is to my boys.  It's a side of T I rarely see.  An eternal bachelor, artist, writer, and audio engineer,  I hardly imagine my bro being the 'Dad' type.  But he always suprises me- by now I should know.  T, you have no idea how special you are, to me, and to your nephews!

The handle rotates the gears into an animated structure.  Coolest. Toy. Ever.  Especially for M (not pictured) whose Autism compels him to spin things.