Happy meal

Move over, McDonald’s.  I’ve discovered a way to really put the “happy” into a “Happy Meal”…into the burger part of the meal, that is.

In our house, happy faces are de rigeur.  The Maiden likes everything to be Botoxed into an eternal grin.  We have smiley salads, smiley pizzas, smiley raisin patterns on the oatmeal, fruit arranged into a smiley.  It goes beyond food too; I am constantly required to tattoo a happy face onto random objects in order to ward off the dreaded trembling upper lip, which appears whenever the Maiden is concerned that anyone except her mother might be unhappy.

When I read Kim’s post on making meatballs into eyeballs (we are so having that for supper next Hallowe’en!), I realized yet another avenue of spreading the culinary joy.  Why not extend the meat-decorating into an entire face– and make happy hamburgers?

Olives could be the eyeballs, of course (except for the Man’s hamburgers–he hates olives–although come to think of it, he doesn’t care whether his burgers are happy or not, as long as they’re made with meat and slathered with mayo, ketchup and cheddar cheese, and of course the obligatory thin lettuce leaf which he uses as an excuse to avoid eating vegetables at the meal since he’s “already having salad.”).  I could use other vegetables as the nose, mouth, and ears.  If I got really creative, I could use mung bean sprouts as the hair.

It’s like playing Mr. Potato Head, although more excitingly dangerous, because it involves salmonella.

I like it.

The results were…interesting. Read more

The Donated Room- The Bedding!

This little girl’s room was done entirely in donations from ETSY, and the bedding was the inspiration for pretty much all of it. I was going to wait and reveal it at the very end of the feature, but I just couldn’t. So, without further a due, I give you:

This bedding was provided by this super awesome custom bedding store (and– get this they’re sort of local they have a shop in Canton for first Mondays!)

The cool thing about this place is that you get the WHOLE bedroomset. The Bedspread, the pillows and shams, the curtains, the lamp shade, and even a super cool memory board to coordinate!

Here’s one of my favorite memory boards:

I am in love with their stuff. It has just the right amount of girly mixed in with super sassy and fun. Really, for everything you get, and the amazing quality it is, it’s a great price without any of the hassle or guesswork that goes into actually coordinating a room yourself.

If you pick up some bedding from them, I’d love to hear about it!

(to catch up on Jamie’s Donated Room series click here!)

History Repeats Itself

History Repeats Itself

When I was in first grade, I went to a Catholic school where we had to wear uniforms every day. One precious day a year, all the kids were allowed to wear whatever they wanted for the grandest day of all…picture day. One boy? Got to wear a turtle neck and LOVE BEADS . He was totally the coolest 6 year old in all of 1971. But not me, nope….my mom put me in an itchy green dress with an ugly scarf to go with it. I did have some pretty rockin’ white patent boots though so it offset my otherwise middle aged attire just a little bit…but not much. It didn’t help that I was sort of a chubby kid with no athletic skills that people picked on.

I got to school on picture day and after enduring an awful lot of laughter over my stylish dress green polyester frock, I looked around and realized all the “popular girls” had bangs while I did not. My mom prided herself on not having given in to cutting my bangs despite my begging her…I had long wavy brown hair that she could do all sorts of things with to make me look even more like a middle aged 70’s housewife. (And not that there is anything wrong with housewives, but honestly, do any of you want to look like your Mom did then? Hip and cool were so not in vogue then in middle America…)

Well, I showed her a thing or two. Everyone, please meet Stiletto Mini, the 6 year old version of The Stiletto Mom.

See those crooked bangs? Yep, those were clipped by yours truly in Sister Mary Catherine Francis Angelica Margaret Elizabeth Anne Catherine’s (because you can’t have too many Catherine’s) class with a pair of little kid safety scissors. Look at that uneven line…but more importantly, look at that evil gleam in my eyes. VICTORY! I may be dressed all wrong but man…I showed her….I totally jacked my hair 5 minutes before pictures…take that! Also? While it looks like I have a missing tooth? I don’t…it’s a SPIT GAP. Ok, so let’s put all this together, chubby kid, dressed like a 1970’s polyester wearing forty year old, uncool hair plus spit gap equals??? You got it, six year old meltdown with safety scissors. Granted, it could look worse but there was a good four minutes spent trying to make them appear even for the picture with tremendous amounts of nun spit and I believe Elmer’s Glue…though I can’t be sure.

When my Mom came to pick me up that day, the nun stoically marched me out to the car and handed me over to my horrified Mother. I’m not sure, but I think they could hear her scream all the way up in Oklahoma, “OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY!!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOUR HAIR????” And what did I say? “I fixthed it Mommy.”

So when Oklahoma heard these very words come out of my mouth some 37 years later this weekend, they should not have been surprised. None of this should be a shock to me either because Miss G is a carbon copy of me. (Wanna know what she looks like? The picture above, with blonde hair….evil gleam in eye is the same)

Keeping in mind that Miss G’s circumstances are totally different…she has a the tiniest bit of a spit gap, is very fit, wears super cool clothes and is generally popular, the thing I learned this weekend is bad hair happens to all of us.

Apparently, it went down like this. She had a headband and put it in her hair. Her hair, however, did not want to cooperate and would not form the perfect swoopy on her forehead. So doing what any logical 6 year old girl birthed by me would do…she got out the scissors and went to town. While she did not create the full bangs like I did, she managed to take a huge chunk of hair out of the middle of her face and elected not to tell me but to tuck it into the headband (you know, because I’d never figure it out right?)

Well I did figure it out. While I was on the phone with my cousin (who knew my mother all too well) all of a sudden Oklahoma heard from a crazed Catholic Mom from Texas one more time…“OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY!!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOUR HAIR????” And what she say? “I fixthed it Mommy.”

Well, of course you did. And now, Miss G, you have bangs just like Mommy did in first grade. You enjoy growing those out honey.

Texas National Guard

We were driving around the Irving/Las Colinas area and believe it or not we saw a back lot full of all kinds of military vehicles. We all said “Wow!” and then Nicholas said, “I would love to see a tank”. Sure enough, we made it around the building and out in front were two huge tanks! We had no idea why all of these military vehicles and tanks were at this place but we soon learned that it was the Texas National Guard.

What fun to stumble upon something like this. Of course, Nicholas had fun exploring the tank!

Art Museums in DFW with Kids

The Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex has some distinguished art museums.  They are often discounted as a place for children, but here are some reasons why you SHOULD be taking your kids with you.  These museums have gone out of their way to be family friendly and offer fun and education to “artists” of all ages.

Dallas Museum of Art

The Dallas Museum of Art has three different Family Audio Tours.  Arturo, the Museum’s Mascot leads the tour geared for 5-11 year old children.  The tours are available at the Visitor Services desk and are free.

DMA hosts Late Nights, (We)ekends at the Museum and Family Films.  For the younger children, The Dallas Museum of Art offers Arturo & Me.  3–5 year olds and a favorite grown-up will work together to look at works of art, read a related story in the galleries, and do an art-making activity in the museum studio.  For the even younger kids they offer Toddler Art.  2 and 3 year olds and a favorite grown-up will participate in art-related activities and play in Arturo’s Nest, the Museum’s kid-friendly space.

Meadows Museum at SMU

The Meadows Museum hosts Family Days which include gallery games, hands-on activities, and performances highlighting the temporary exhibitions at the Meadows Museum.  There is also a series of Drop-In Art experiences on select Saturdays from 11:00 a.m.–2:00 p.m.  More information about both these Meadows Museum events can be found on their website.

Kimbell Art Museum

The Kimbell Art Museum has new family gallery guides focusing on masterpieces in the Kimbell’s permanent collection. Picture cards for each artwork provide fun facts and discussion questions that encourage children and adults to explore new ideas together. This free Kimbell family resource at the Information Desk to enrich your next Museum visit.

The Kimbell also hosts summer camps, school break camps and workshops for kids along with Family Festivals that include hands-on activities and film programs, along with storytelling and other performances.

Amon Carter Museum

The Amon Carter Museum has a series of guided tours for all levels of participants.  Advance reservations are required for a specialized tour.  The other thing that this museum provides is quite a few online learning resources.  These might come in handy for school projects or at home adventures.

Fort Worth Museum of Modern Art

The Fort Worth Museum of Modern Art offers Wonderful Wednesdays which is a free gallery program for families is designed as an informal introduction to the collection and special exhibitions.  It is offered once a month and consists of a focused tour and is accompanied by a gallery project designed by the Modern’s education staff.  Admission is free for participants of the program.

Due to popular demand, the Modern is starting a new series this spring for teens age 12 to 16 age of 12 about Andy Warhol.   Andy Warhol:The Last Decade,  is designed and led by the collaborative efforts of the Modern education staff. The program includes tours, group discussions, and gallery projects and concludes with a studio project.

The Modern will again host summer camps in 2010 for young artists – ages 5 through 13.  These camps emphasize learning through direct observation of art and thoughtful art activities inspired by the current exhibition. This introduces students to some of the complex and challenging concepts and practices behind modern and contemporary art.  Activities will include everything from art making in the traditional sense to interdisciplinary exploration.

More information on all these programs can be found on each museum’s website.

Have I missed anything fun? Please add it to the comments below and I will update the article.

Holly’s public restroom tour

Last week we took a road trip to Colorado.

Yes, we like a LOT of other Texans think that Colorado should just be part of Texas (in fact I would be willing to negotiate a map fold arrangement where we cut out about 7 hours of the trip between DFW and Vail).  What I love about Colorado is that pretty much everybody there is from Texas.  It is like we didn’t even leave home…except for the snow, the mountains, the skiing, the density of fine dining and a few snowcats.

The road trip takes us 14 hours at speed limit speed and very, very, very brief stops for the necessities for life.

The necessities of life include some snacking which I can pack ahead for…and the dreaded road trip restroom break.

*insert scary music here*

*very scary music*

*super scary music*

Please don’t make me pee in there!

Yes, this is an actual quote from one of my boys as I FORCED them to pee at a gas station.

I am a super mean mommy who would prefer not mopping up accidents in our relatively new car.

I have been taking road trips since birth.  Many things have improved across America in the 40 years I have been alive, but public gas station restrooms appear NOT to be one of them.

WHY are they so bad?

Let’s take a tour!

Yes.  I took pictures.

THAT is how out of control my disgust is.

So, the first restroom we come to is out of order.  I never know what level of disgustingness is required to actually have the OUT OF ORDER sign posted.  I would have made this call more often.

Good for this gas station for calling it like they see it…

Of course, next door to the OUT OF ORDER restroom is the now MEN AND WOMEN restroom, but please notice that this fine gas dispensing establishment does “NOT have public RR – (they) are for Customers ONLY”.

That must mean they are special.  They want to take good care of their CUSTOMERS and not waste all their restroom effort on the average American that might stop by but not buy anything.

I feel so special.

Until I enter the MEN AND WOMEN room…which by the way you need to “please lock behind you because both men and women are using”, because quite honestly, they should have condemned BOTH restrooms.

And to further our tour at another location there was this…

The haphazardly hanging paper dispenser which was awkwardly positioned next to the previous built-in paper dispenser that was partially ripped out of the wall.  I probably should consider it a miracle that the dispenser actually contained paper towels.

Have you ever noticed that the more disturbingly dirty the sink, the more likely it is to have a 1/2 peeled off sticker somewhere on it that declares it “sanitized”?

Our last picture on this very fine tour looks deceiving.  The walls are still relatively white with just a few watermark trail exceptions, the floor is solid-surface with decent cleaning potential, the toilet is still a shade of white and there is only a little paper on the floor…

So what is my problem?

Let’s just say that it is a good thing that smells cannot be translated through photographs and computer screens.

Yep, it was probably the worst restroom we visited on the trip and although the floor appears pretty clean, there is a 1/2 inch film of standing water across it that continues to make me squeamish just thinking about it.

The last gas station restroom that we visited was disturbing in another way.  I had just helped Rhett through the potty process and we walked out of the stall to the sink only to encounter a MAN.

Oh, and this was NOT the MEN AND WOMEN restroom.

He looked up.  Startled.

I stared at him.  Startled.

We both said at the same time, “am I in the wrong place?”

He left the sink with soapy hands to open the door and look at the sign.

He was in the wrong and fled the scene.  I felt bad for him a few minutes later as he was intentionally dodging any interaction with me in the mini mart.  He was hiding behind displays of soda, snacks and batteries.

There is one redeeming restroom fact that I have learned.  Believe it or not, the state of Texas has created and maintained rest stops that have sparkling clean restrooms.

*gasp*

I would never have believed it possible…the rest stops of my early road trip years were among the most frightening.  They usually boasted accommodations rivaling a porta-potty.  But the rest stops of 2010 are clean, well-stocked, patrolled and downright a pleasure…

except for the “Watch out for Rattlesnake” signs.

Lunar Mini Golf

We had a blast today at a friend’s birthday party. It was held at Lunar Mini Golf inside Vista Ridge Mall in Lewisville. In case you don’t know what in the world that is, think of Putt-Putt golf, indoors, lit only with black lights, and lots of neon paint and golf balls in the room. It was fun although quite challenging, I dare say impossible, to get a good picture capturing the mood without destroying it by using a flash (although I’m sure Stuart could prove me wrong!)

Here’s my lame attempt. Slow shutter speed to let in more light which wasn’t fast enough to capture the moving 5 year old in the middle of the picture

.

What? You can’t see him? He must have turned invisible. No, there he is. Look closely at the blacklight illuminating his white shoes and his glow in the dark bracelet. We had a great time and I’m sure we’ll go back!

Christmas Chaos at Mimi’s

The Christmas feast was ready, presents wrapped and under the “main” tree (there were three), stockings filled… lights, camera, music, ACTION!

The grandboys barreled through the door with dog in tow. Mom and Dad and Nana followed. To the tree they went and festive packages began to fly. They never heard, “Would anyone like to eat first?” I turned the ovens to warm.

The almost 10 year old donned his Santa hat to help Paw Paw pass out the gifts. The 20-month old scamp, having figured out the whole gift thing earlier that morning at home, started shredding paper indiscriminately. Soon there was paper, ribbon and boxes everywhere.

The scamp got a pop up tent. I swear it came in a box no bigger than a shirt box, but when it popped up it exploded, blocking doorways and half the hall!

Of course, he immediately disappeared into it and wouldn’t come out until Mimi came in to get him. Sigh. Down on the hands and knees I went and got just far enough in that only my backside stuck out. That’s when I heard the shudder click on my daughter’s camera. “She’s dead,” I thought. “I’ll kill her if she develops that.”

The older grandson gleefully showed me the new game for his DS, moving so quickly between screens that I gave up trying to pretend I understood what was happening.

Hours later, after too much food, lots of laughter, and dropping an exhausted toddler into bed, my older grandson handed me a small gift. It was a story he had written for a school project:

“I’m the only reindeer who doesn’t want to pull Santa’s sleigh, and this is why. He weighs a lot (from eating the cookies and drinking the milk), plus the sleigh’s weight and I’m kind of scared of heights. It would take all night to deliver all those presents. I am also very busy every Christmas because I always walk on the red carpet on those nights and I have to say speeches all day long. That’s why I can’t pull Santa’s sleigh!”

It was the very best Christmas present ever! All those years reading to him, encouraging his storytelling and playing the, “I’ll start the story and you finish” game came back to me. My budding little writer knew I would want this gift.

As grandparents, we have the time to savor moments with these children of our children. The light in their eyes, the laughter in their hearts and the joy in their antics is a special gift God gives the older generation.

Supermarket Spa

Who Needs a Massage When there’s a Grocery Aisle to Roam?

I recently spent 10 cold minutes huddled over a freezer full of turkeys probably left over from last Thanksgiving, agonizing over the merits of a 12- versus 18-pound bird.

I’d had my heart set on a 15-pound one, and choosing anything else was one more difficult decision at the end of a long day. Eighteen seemed so big; 12, so small. Which to choose?

My thoughts began to wander. Why on earth am I even buying a turkey after the holidays are over? Better still, why am I here at 9 p.m. instead of curled up on the couch with a mug of hot cocoa and the phone book open to “Pizza”?

The answer: I’m obsessed with grocery shopping.

I love comparing prices, carrying a grocery list and pen, thinking about menus, checking ingredient lists to see whether items contain anything my daughter is allergic to, and reading celebrity magazines while waiting at the checkout.

I still love shopping for clothes, shoes, and handbags, like normal people, but lately it seems that I get more enjoyment from pushing a cart around a grocery store. My first thought? I need a life! But then I began to realize just why grocery shopping has become my new favorite form of relaxation.

It makes me feel important

At home, I’m mom, and the cook—and a writer, but only when everyone’s asleep. But in the grocery store, I’m a woman with a purpose, carrying a list, expertly comparing unit prices and deftly transferring cans to my cart. My decisions will affect the future of the world—or at least, of the coming week’s menu!

It makes decision-making easy

Or easier. I’m the queen of indecision, and the clothing racks are where I particularly shine. At the grocery store, I’ll still spend far too long trying to decide between romaine and leaf lettuce. But at least there, the choices are refreshingly fewer than at the mall, where the possible combinations of sleeves, buttons, collars, necklines, and cuffs seems infinite. In the grocery aisle, there are only four types of lettuce available, and the color choice is easy: green.

There’s less guilt

We all secretly make the occasional splurge, a spontaneous purchase that we don’t need. Because the jar of fire-roasted red peppers is so much cheaper than that overpriced handbag, I don’t have to guilt myself too much when I sneak it into the cart. After all, I’m shopping for the family, right?

There’s no mirror

We’ve all had those depressing days at the mall, when nothing looks flattering, the mirror makes us look large and small in all the wrong places, and properly fitting jeans don’t seem to exist. It’s never a problem in the bread aisle, though.

It’s efficient

Trying on clothes and standing in denial in front of the mirror take time. Tossing spaghetti into the cart does not. Period.

You can take the family, if you want

It’s certainly simpler to take my two-year-old daughter to the grocery store than to the mall, and we do it often. In fact, I have been known to let her push the cart around the store on a rainy day when her only other game of choice is tearing apart the house.

However, I especially love grocery shopping alone—without having to rein in my family from the aisles of tantalizing but overpriced snacks, or without a child who insists on pushing the cart into the displays, starting conversations with shady strangers, and licking the meat freezer. It definitely cramps my style. How can I catch up on the latest antics of Brangelina’s kids while my own offspring is next to me screaming blue murder to be let out of the cart?

It’s open late

If it’s been one of those days, you can still head out for some retail therapy after the kids are finally in bed.

After ridiculously long reflection on turkey, bargain meats, and the Zen of grocery shopping, I ended up choosing the 18-pound bird. There really wasn’t a right or wrong decision (although the decision to make turkey dinner in mid-January might be questioned when we’re still working through the leftovers in April).

All that mattered was the relaxing time I spent in my new favorite hangout: the grocery store.

Sunday I was at the Wolfgang Puck

Saturday I was at the Walmart fuming when I noticed they weren’t carrying my favorite caffeine powdered beverage and had filled the shelves with Great Value brand sugary kool-aid drink. Sunday I was at the Wolfgang Puck in Detroit feasting upon herbalicious flat bread, fancy salad with mystery plants, and the best tasting steak I have ever experienced in my life. In fact, the steak was so big it had a bone and I think I had a foodgasm.

Until I tasted the dessert.

Perhaps I don’t have refined enough taste, but the “chocolate” dessert they served us reminded me either of

1.) a mouse, 2.) a rat or

3.) can you possibly imagine what my kids said?

It really didn’t taste that great either. In fact, I’m still not sure what flavor it was hence the word chocolate in quotation marks above.

The main thing that bothered me about Wolfgang Puck was my lack of etiquette skills the lack of ranch dressing and Dr Pepper. The missing Dr Pepper wasn’t too surprising since I had been forewarned that Yankees don’t typically keep Nectar of the Gods stocked in restaurants, but not stockpiling ranch dressing kind of had me feeling butthurt. Fortunately the steak and potatoes made up for my disappointment. The waiters also graciously laid my cloth napkin in my lap and peppered my food for me–although I also didn’t realize I was supposed to tell the waiters when to stop peppering until after they’d blackened my food. So, Mr. Puck there you have it from one southerner whose fanciest restaurant before you was Chili’s–my off the wall review of my very first four course dinner.

(By the way Wolfgang, I know you were in town that night because you were on one of my fellow blogger’s same flight and I just wanted to let you know how much I loved that steak. In fact if you would have shown yourself to me Sunday night at your restaurant I was going to whisper sweet nothings about that steak in your ear.)

After my novel experience at the Wolfgang Puck of Detroit we then made our way to a cocktail party to socialize with other journalists and auto bloggers. Andie Smith a Dallas based freelance photographer, Jane Devin of Finding My America, Connie Burke of GM, and I chatted for a bit and then ditched that place for few minutes to tour the casino grounds for a bit. Connie got the gambling bug, but it was Jane who raked in the dough that night. It was too bad that I don’t have a passport yet and could not have made our way south to Canada for some more fun (although I keep hearing there’s tons of strip joints so we’d just have to skip those places. Also someone else told me I can get milk in a bottle in Canada and I really want to try something vintage like that. I also wonder if I can get caffeine by the pill up there since it seems like I can buy every other pill from the looks of my spam folder.).

My fun in Detroit didn’t stop at the Wolfgang Puck or the casino. I had so many new adventures to experience, laughs to laugh, candid moments to photograph over the next two days. Oh and I had to work like a crazy woman on speed (which is why that caffeine would have really come in handy). I can’t wait to show y’all the newest vehicles and concepts to come out with the various automakers at the North American International Auto Show with just a touch of humor–just a touch, who am I kidding?

Seriously though, General Motors kept us so busy I can feel every muscle in my legs, feet, and toes. I almost couldn’t make it out of bed this morning to get my children ready for school, but I did because I’m not like my husband who makes our children four hours late for school because he forgot it was Monday. True story my friends.

PS: The whole Walmart reference up there is to honor Andie Smith and Jane Devin who joined me in Detroit for the auto show and made fun of basked in my love for all things Walmart.

PPS: I wonder how many other writers have put both Walmart and Wolfgang Puck in the same paragraph.

Disclosure: General Motors paid for my patdown free flight, Dr Pepper free Wolfgang Puck four course dinner, hotel at the Marriott (just wait til I tell that story), cocktail party that we ditched, as well as basically everything else. I only include this disclosure because the FCC makes me, not because I want to brag. Now if GM can buy me some etiquette lessons we’ll all be covered and the world will be a safer place–and then I could gloat. But nah, I’d never do that.

Full Disclosure

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