We're not in Kansas Anymore, Toto.

Where I document my failure.

One of the things that makes my husband go absolutely nuts about this blogging thing is how I seem to have this bizarre need to tell the world EVERYTHING, including my mistakes and failures. He's a southern boy, you know, you're not supposed to share, well, anything really. You don't brag about your successes and you sure as hell don't talk about the failure.

Since I have no filters, I do both. And that's why I love having this blog. I love sharing the good and the bad. I love having a confidante in the internet, among people I've never met face to face, but whom may share in similar joys or maybe find solace in similar disasters.  And so, I give you my most recent failure, cookies.

A little set up: tonight is our school carnival. For some reason, the 5th grade parents were asked to make treats to sell at the bake sale. And for some reason, instead of just going to the store and buying a friggin' box of bakery treats, I decided I could bake something extra-sugary special. My memory, it is short.

 

 

If you can't tell, and I'm fairly certain you can't, those are Darth Vadar shaped cookies. Or rather, they are supposed to be. For Christmas, my children bought me the Heroes and Villains Star Wars cookie set from William Sonoma. Cute, right?

Ladies and Gentlemen, that right there is Failure in a Box.

There's a couple of issues here. First of all, I can bake cookies. I make awesome fat, round yummy sugar cookies. I can ice them and put sprinkles on them. But I cannot make cut-out cookies. The roller never works, I always have to add too much flour, and these little Star Wars devils have so many intricate details they never set up right.

I also have a problem with intricate icing detail. See, I have a weird, neurological issue where my hands shake badly, all the time. It's inheirited, my mother has it too, and it's gotten worse as I've gotten older. I can't hold a teacup on a saucer over my lap while perched gingerly on a loveseat. Okay maybe that doesn't come up often, but what does is this: I can't take decent pictures, because I can't hold the camera still enough for it to focus correctly. I can't draw or cut clean clean lines, and I sure as hell can't hold tightly and squeeze a pastry bag full of icing into a thin decorative line. And watching me try to do so is painful, it's like watching an elderly stroke patient try to put a spoonful of soup in their own mouth.

I'm not really joking on that. I just can't do it. It's not that noticeable most of the time, but it tends to freak people out when it happens, if they don't know me very well. But you should see it when I get nervous, like when I'm talking in front of a group of people onstage. Sometimes I address the congregation at church, and when the adrenaline hits, I shake so badly I can't even hold onto the microphone. It's awesome.

But I forget all this, for some reason. And so, this is what happens when I've been watching too much Martha Stewart and reading Design Sponge. I joke about being a slacker mom, but that's a defense mechanism. The truth is I want to be Suzy Freaking Homemaker so damn bad it hurts.

But I'm just not. I try, I fail. That's okay. I'm okay with it, most of the time. I happen to think failure is the best learning tool we have, as humans.

That's a Clone Trooper. Sigh.

And, we're off!

Happy Thanksgiving! Oh right, that was yesterday. Yesterday was all about food and family, today it's all about the shopping. And I'm trying super hard not to leave the house because of it.

Last week, the boys and I settled in for a special episode of Throwdown with Bobby Flay, starring Ree Drummond of The Pioneer Woman blog. We like Throwdown anyway, my ten year old walks around singing "Knock at the door, big surprise, oh it's Bobby Flay..." much to the chagrin of his  "boys should be watching SportsCenter not cooking shows" dad. But this one was special, and since so close to Thanksgiving, and I'm always looking to do things easier and better, I decided to look up and try some of her recipes.

So, yeah, Thanksgiving rocked. I made the turkey a la Pioneer Woman, and it was seriously the best turkey I've ever made. I am totally on the brining bandwagon now, folks. I also made butternut squash with maple butter and Craisins, which is not a PW recipe but it's pretty hard to screw up, and a couple of pumpkin pies, substituting heavy whipping cream instead of evaporated milk at the last minute because I didn't have any, and no, you don't want to know how many more calories that adds. But they were damn good. We spent the day over at my parent's house with extended family, moaning over our full stomachs but picking at leftovers, and playing with cousins.

Today my husband had plans to hit the Black Friday sales early, but didn't stir until after 8am. So much for that. All the ads on TV have gone into full-on Christmas materialtastic mode, I can hardly stand to turn it on. I really just wanted a few days to ourselves to lay around the house and do nothing, but it seems nobody else wants us to do that.

In some ways, It's easier when you go out of town for holidays. There's nothing driving you to do laundry and make beds or pick up toys or clean out closets. You really can just lounge around and visit with people you don't see very often, and eat five ridiculously carb loaded meals a day, and watch football.

But I can't seem to do that at home. Not that I wish I was traveling, I don't. We specifically do not travel at holidays anymore, and I'm sure as hell not going to fly in this climate. I can get groped  right here in my own kitchen just by leaning over the dishwasher, thank you very much.

It's time to start figuring out what to get people for Christmas. It's time to start making lists and shopping and cooking and planning parties and putting up lights. I wish, I really do wish, that I could skip it all, and focus on the meaning behind the holiday. I wish I could say, No presents this year people, maybe except for the kids, like Average Jane has done with her family. But nobody else would go along. I don't even think my family would agree to such a thing, or my husband's family.

I'm not trying to be a grinch. But I've had a cold for a week now that is really kicking my ass, and my checkbook is a little bipolar, and someone only four years older than me has just been moved to hospice, and it's all making it a little hard to find my Christmas spirit.

I really just want to go to the beach.

 

Mad Hungry update.

First let me tell you that I have been cooking and using my kitchen so much in the last three weeks that my family claims not to know me. Then last week my stove died. Given that we fear the refrigerator is also on it's last leg, we spent last weekend picking out a new range, fridge and matching microwave, and pretending the total cost didn't take our breath away. My new kitchen arrives this Friday. (double oven within the normal size range, and french door fridge! Oohlala!)

So, I have now cooked for my family four dinner recipes from the Mad Hungry cookbook.

• French Toast *- inhaled. Check.
• Chicken Parmesan - inhaled. Check.
• Vinegar glossed chicken - held suspect at first, suggestion by my husband to rename it as "Italian Barbecue Chicken" - inhaled. Check.
• Pork chops with apples and onions - inhaled. Check.
• Beef Empanadas** (Including the homemade dough, thank you very much) - suspect. Renamed "Hot Pockets," again, a suggestion by my husband. Still Suspect. Added ketchup - inhaled. Check. 

So that's a pretty good return on investment, I think. I also cleaned out the freezer and pantry and have changed the way I stock those things, and how I think about dinner in general. I've been trying to know ahead of time, like before 5:30pm, what I plan to fix on a particular evening. (I know. Duh.) Given our soccer and cub scouts schedules, Mondays and Wednesday are hard nights to cook a full dinner, so we cook something major on Sunday evening and have leftovers Monday. Then I cook on Tuesday and have leftovers on Wednesday, and cook again Thursday and usually on Friday we order out, or order in. Right now this pattern is working, but we're heading into winter and soccer goes from outdoor practice to indoor, and the schedule may completely change, I have no idea.

I have also, in the last week baked the following:

• A pumpkin pie
• Cupcakes, brownies, and a Legoman mold cake that we shall not discuss.
• Drop biscuits
• Belgian waffles

Okay, actually, on weekends my husband makes the waffles around here. Mama has to sleep sometime.

* Yes I'm aware French Toast is not really dinner. Shut up.

** Note that the only item that isn't white meat is the only item that didn't really fly. I don't know whose children these are? Said the girl with a medium-rare filet in her mouth.