Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Chopped Ninja Warrior

Wes and I are really into cooking competition shows.  Chopped is our favorite.

That being said, I oftentimes feel like I'm in my own version of a cooking competition when it comes to making dinner.  Except I'm not given certain wacky ingredients that I need to use in my cooking, but rather certain obstacles.  So imagine Chopped mixed with American Ninja Warrior.  Yup.  Sums it up.

I am the competitor. My overall goal is to make an edible meal.  Nothing fancy, just edible.

It starts out easy enough.  Two babies paying with measuring cups on the floor, two defrosted chicken breasts.  I turn on the oven, which instantly heats the kitchen to 100 degrees.

I then chop the onion which instantly makes me tear up. . and the dogs come running.  I now have two giant dogs sniffing and wagging and all up in my space.  Following me from stove top to refrigerator, to stove top, to refrigerator.  Chop chop chop.  The dog's noses are inches from my cutting board.  One dog, the fat fluffy one, goes and lays down next to the hot oven.  This then draws Finny attention. He squeals and laughs as he army crawls his way over to the dog.  Midas is not fond of Finny and the tuft of hair he pulls out, so he moves, and moves, and moves, creating a fun little game for Finn.

Next obstacle, Audrey.  She decides she'd really like to stand up now. On me.  She crawls over, grabs my leg, and pulls herself up on my legs. I'm stuck. If I move, she will fall.  I try to do as much as I can without moving my legs.

I now have one dog following my every move, just in case I drop something, one baby chasing around the other dog all around the kitchen, and the other baby holding on to my legs.

Beep.  Beep. Beep.  My chicken is done baking, but there is a wobbly baby on my leg, a dog blocking the oven, another baby crying because said dog keeps running from him, and another dog I'm convinced will jump on this counter and eat anything she finds.

I am sweating profusely.
I will NOT cook dinner tomorrow.
I'm convinced you have to be a Ninja Warrior to make dinner.
The end.




Then they ate dinner. . . Man vs. Food









Thursday, July 10, 2014

Recipe for a headache

First you have one 9 month old baby.
Then give that baby a fever.
Sprinkle a rash all over that baby's tiny body
Add a few blisters to that baby's hands, feet, and mouth
Then, add more blisters to the inside of baby's mouth and down their throat
Final touch. . add a second baby, who is naturally more needy, and can now pull herself up on anything.  The table, the couch, the dog. You name it, she's determined to conquer it.
the rash in all its glory.
the conqueror in all her glory. 


What's that you say?  You still don't have a headache?  

Try feeding said babies lunch.  Be sure to not use the same spoon/bowl otherwise second baby will contract this lovely virus.  The feverish baby won't eat, pushes the food away, and makes a grim-us.  His poor little throat hurts, so he cries.  Hard.  Meanwhile second baby has successfully pulled the entire banana out of your hand and has attempted to eat the peel.  Oh and did I mention there are two famished dogs who haven't eaten since breakfast, and whose noses are centimeters away from the trays.  Welp, one dog has successfully eaten a dropped banana peel whole. 

Now you have two crying babies.  You feel a headache coming on yet?  Still no?

Try putting these crazies  babies down for a nap.
You put the second baby in her crib.  She cries, then immediately flips over and pulls herself up in her crib.
Now, try putting feverish baby in his crib.  He cries.
Try putting a binkie in his mouth.  He cries because his mouth hurts.
Try holding him, and rocking him.  He cries, arches his back and tries to climb out of your arms.
Try giving him some Tylenol.  He cries, spits it out, and cries even harder.
Try nursing him.  Nope.
Try laying with him in your bed.  He cries.
All the while the other baby is crying in her crib because she can't get down from standing.
Finally, since all else has failed, lay both babies in their cribs, and let them cry themselves to sleep.

Headache accomplished.  Along with sweat and tears.

I don't know how Finny got hand, foot, and mouth, but it might be the saddest thing I've  he's ever experienced. 
I also don't know how Audrey hasn't gotten it yet.  Stay tuned for my next post about how to deal with two babies that have this lovely virus because it is only a matter of time.

Throwback to the Fourth when everyone was happy and virus-free.