Happy Mother’s day!

It’s Mother’s day! The day where moms around the world are supposed to be pampered, have the house cleaned for them, and get to be lazy all day while the family fends for themselves. But moms never get a day off. So even though it’s an illusion, it’s a damn good one if you ask me!

This morning Kylan brought me a bag of pretzel m&ms in bed. He hid them from me a few days ago and I thought I’d never get them back! It’s the closest thing I’ll get to a Mother’s day gift, so I’ll take it!

I posted a little thing on Facebook today. Hope it makes you giggle 🙂

You know you’re a mom when….
You’ve said the word “poopie” more times in the last year than “hello”.
You have a pile of to-be folded clothes on your bed that’s been there since noon, and you make a little nest of it and pass out.
You get peed on at least once a week.
You think you may have used the stain stick for longer than you thought, but then later discover your two-year old threw the whole thing in with all the clothes.
You can’t remember the last time you took a crap by yourself.
Most of your mothering experiences involve pee, poop, or puke.
You have multiple bruises below mid-thigh.
You find dog food, mystery liquids, and half-chewed-then-spit-out substances all over the floor.
You wear pajamas more often than anything else.
You have to check the mail in miss-matched shoes because your toddler has hidden one, and no matter how much you beg, he won’t tell you where it is.
Your meals have only one temperature: cold.
You pee a little when you laugh, cough, or let out a big fart.

You know you’re a mom when you go through all the crap I listed above, and want to voluntarily put yourself in a mental institution on some days, but you wouldn’t change it for anything. The kisses, cuddles, hugs, and smiles make everything not only worth it, but comical and amazing. Because only a mom can talk about poop with a smile on her face, or tell you about the time her daughter gave her a third eye when she was tickling her too much…and laughs about it. Only a mom can go through a gigantic ass headache all day, and still love her baby with all her heart at the end of the day, even though he is the one that caused it. Happy Mother’s Day to all my awesome mom friends. You are strong, awesome, and have hilarious tales to tell. Make sure your memory doesn’t go to shit so you can embarrass your kids one day with all these stories.


Love me some artichokes!

I really, insanely love artichokes. Fresh, frozen, canned, in soups, in dips, baked, stuffed…. I love em. If you’ve never had artichokes, or aren’t particularly a fan of them(shame on you!), I urge you to try these recipes. There are my favorite artichoke recipes, and I promise you will love them. You probably won’t want to share!


Baked artichoke with gorgonzola and herbs. This is pretty much as good as it gets. A baked artichoke, with cheese and herbs in the middle. So fucking good.


Applebee’s hot spinach and artichoke dip. I rarely go out to eat, and when I go to Chili’s or Applebee’s, I always always get the hot spinach and artichoke dip. It’s creamy, cheesy, artichokey…. It’s delicious. The moment I saw this copycat recipe, I knew I would soon gain a few or ten pounds.



Fettuccini with chicken and artichokes. This recipe is simple and delicious, and not loaded down with sauce so you can really soak up the flavor of the chicken and the artichokes. So good!!



Stuffed artichokes. This stuffed artichoke recipe is kept simple with grated Romano and seasoning with a touch of olive oil, but man oh man, I could eat a whole batch in one sitting!

Lots and lots of crap on my plate, and it’s not food.

I realized this morning I haven’t written anything on here in like a week. Slacker! I haven’t done much of anything on my computer that wasn’t work or late night Grey’s Anatomy. I’ve had a lot on my plate lately. I’ve been doing lots of thinking and lots of doing.

For as long as I can remember, my brain runs kind of like a four lane freeway. I’m always thinking, rapidly. So many thoughts tend to travel through my mind, some heading north, some heading south. They are congested and crash into each other. As an adult it is very stressful to have a brain that works like that because they are always neurotic thoughts it seems. Well, at  least it’s that way for me. I tend to be pretty neurotic without even trying(thanks, dad!). My mind has been wrapped around things like my son’s father, physical pain, emotional pain, and grieving past relationships. The late night viewings of Grey’s Anatomy doesn’t help at all. That show really puts you in touch with your emotional feelings. Sounds like crap, right? Anyway, I’ve realized why it has been so difficult for me to grow. The more I grow, the more I think about the things that have held me back. I don’t like thinking about those things, they make me feel generally sad and shitty. Self reflection is hard, and overwhelming, and I’ve kept myself at an emotionally stunted state by trying not to think about those things. This time, I’m just taking it one hurdle at a time, no matter how painful it is. I want to grow, I need to grow. It’s okay to be emotionally fucked when you have an infant, or even a toddler. They can’t see when you’re in pain. They don’t noticed if you’re thoughts are being haunted by the unfortunate experiences of your life. But my son is growing up, and he will notice these things in the near future, so I need to get my shit together.

I recently acquired a new primary care physician. My last one couldn’t have cared less about her patients, I won’t even think of delving into the details because I’ll just get annoyed and go off on a tangent about it. This guy is great, and thorough. Which is great, but also kind of irritating because it’s requiring me to run all over the place to get shit done. I’ve been dealing with chronic back pain for quite some time, so I’m needing to participate in physical therapy, and get an x-ray to hopefully convince my insurance company to approve an MRI. Physical therapy is crap. The physical therapists are fucking obnoxiously nice and they make me do crap that makes my back hurt more than it did when I came in. Kill me. Or drug me. Preferably the second option. Squeezing physical therapy into my normal routine is killing me. I need a husband. Just for cleaning and laundry doing purposes.

After my busy weekend, we start potty training. How weird is it that I’m excited? Maybe I’m excited because the only other emotion most parents typically feel right before potty training is complete terror. But, he’s been showing me the signs that he is ready. So I went out, purchased a potty and some boxer-briefs(I fucking hate tighty whitees), and we are going to take a stab at it in a couple more days.

I’ve been cleaning a lot lately. I think it might be obsessive compulsive. I hate cleaning, I really do. I’ve always wanted to be that person that enjoyed it. I have even tried to fake that I enjoy it, thinking I might end up enjoying it if I faked it long enough. But no, I still fucking hate it. And yet I’ve been doing it more frequently. Maybe I’m sub-consciously seeking out a form of therapy, because I refuse to go out and see an actual therapist.

Ok, it is now time for some Grey’s Anatomy. I will be posting about some kick-ass recipes this weekend 🙂

50 shades of closure

Last week I wrote about my best friend in life(you can read it here if you’d like, to get a better picture). It was short, because I’m an emotional person, and sometimes I allow my emotions to get the best of me. But that’s pretty typical for a lot of woman, fuck I hate being typical sometimes.

Everyone reaches a point in their lives(or several points) when we are dealt the massive shit card. Life hates us, or so it seems, because everything appears to be so awful. It’s something everyone goes through. Some have it worse than others, but we all experience. We deal with it one of two ways; either we allow that massive shit card to make us better people, stronger and more confident, or we allow that massive shit card to take over our lives and make us bitter and angry.

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When I met my best friend 11 years ago, he was going through a lot in his life. But he was happy, and he was strong. Over the years his life was a bit of a roller coaster, and yes, he was dealt the massive shit card more times than a person should have to deal with. But at a certain point, he allowed the massive shit card to take over, and he became a bitter and angry person. It didn’t reflect the way he treated me as his best friend immediately, but it happened. When it did happen, I tried my best to be understanding. I tried my best to remain by his side and see him through it. But once I had my son, I couldn’t do it anymore. I am a single mom, and I had a little life to think about. As it was I was dealing with my own massive shit card, and I just didn’t have enough room on my shoulders to carry mine, his, and be a good mom. And so I let go.

Now it has been nearly two years since I let the burden of a bad friendship go. But the thing was, I didn’t really let go. I was carrying around emotional baggage from the broken friendship. I have been full of doubt, wondering if I had made a mistake, or if I had been missing out on something by ending our friendship. The only way I really knew how to deal with it was to love him anyway, whether he was present in my life or not. My doubt kept me from being able to move on. And because our friendship ended so abruptly, I never had any kind of closure.

A few days ago I was playing around on Facebook, and in the “people you may know” section was my best friend. My stomach sank. Since our friendship ended, I have not once seen him around town, as he is a bit of a shut in. He has always been against the idea of being part of social media, so I never had to face seeing his activity on Facebook due to our large amount of mutual friends. In a way, it was like he didn’t exist anymore. But suddenly, he did exist, and my curiosity led me to look at his Facebook page. I was heartbroken, and suddenly I began to feel very angry. Here I am, filled with doubt and sadness, almost two years later. And he appeared to be smitten. A rush of emotions flooded my heart, and I felt a deep amount of pathetic, heart-wrenching sadness.

After much thought, I decided to send him a message. I needed to confront him on the hurt he caused me, but I also wanted him to know that I still love him and care about him to the point where I think about him often. I had to intentions of trying to regain what I had given up, because that ship sailed off into past for a very good reason. I just very greatly needed for him to know how I felt, and a big part of me wanted to know how he felt as well. When I hit the send button, I wasn’t sure if he would reply or not. But if he did reply, I was pretty sure what to expect. As I mentioned before, he became a very bitter and angry person. I knew that if he would reply, it would likely be a bitter and angry one. But I am a hopeful person, and a small part of me hoped his reply might surprise me.

He did reply late that night. To my disappointment, it was what I had expected. He had informed me that he has since moved on, and that he has surrounded himself with people who understand him and want to be in his life. According to him, I blame him for the bad things that have happened in my life, and that I believe I am a perfect person who has done nothing wrong to contribute to the problems in our relationship. He included some very generic well wishes, including “I hope your kid is doing well”, and “I wish the best for you”.

I was hurt, I can’t deny that. But all this time, I have wondered if I made a mistake by ending our friendship, and I’ve wondered if I have been missing out on something. But his response made me realize that I did not make a mistake, and I have not been missing out on anything. I thanked him, because his response gave me the closure I needed. I poured my heart into the email I sent him, and he slapped me in the face with insults and generic well wishes. Sometimes you don’t need answers to gain closure from someone to hurt you, you just have to see how much of an asshole they are to gain closure.

I woke up the next morning, yesterday morning, feeling wonderful. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I finally let go of the emotional baggage I’ve been lugging around this entire time. I can move on now, and I can be confident in my decision to end the friendship in the first place. He is not the person I met 11 years ago. The pictures of the man in my scrapbook is gone, he does not exist anymore. All I can do is hold on to the memories of the person he was, and without denial, recognize the person he has become.

Our falling out was a massive shit card I had been dealt. I am not going to let it make me bitter or angry. I will be a stronger person for it.

Lasagna fritta and artichoke gratinata

Last night I was in the mood for some major comfort food. It didn’t take me but 5 seconds to decide on Italian, since they make pretty much the most kick-ass comfort food ever. As I made that decision, I had a flash back of my first time going to Olive Garden. They have an appetizer on their menu called “lasagna fritta”. It’s breaded and deep-fried lasagna rolls served with alfredo sauce. Sweet baby Jesus, yes please! I managed to find a mock recipe for it here. I did, of course, make some changes to it to suit my own personal tastes and to cut out some of the complications of the recipe. For a side dish, I was really in the mood for something with artichokes. I am a huge fan of artichokes. They are soooooo good, and there are so many ways you can prepare them. After a few minutes of Googling, I found a recipe on Food Network for artichoke gratinata.  It came out really delicious, but there is one adjustment I will make to this recipe next time, it will reflect on the recipe in this post.



For the lasagna fritta


  • Four eggs
  • One cup fresh grated parmesan cheese
  • One cup fresh grated mozzarella cheese
  • One cup crumbled feta cheese
  • One cup whole-milk ricotta cheese
  • Half cup heavy whipping cream
  • Two tablespoons Italian seasoning
  • One cup panko breadcrumbs
  • One cup Italian bread crumbs
  • Lasagna noodles

Home made alfredo sauce(TRUST ME, do not buy jarred alfredo. Once you make this, you’ll never buy the jarred crap every again)

  • One pint heavy whipping cream
  • Four tablespoons butter
  • 3/4 cup parmesan-romano cheese blend
  • One teaspoon fresh garlic, pressed

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, and cook the lasagna noodles until they are al dente. You want them a little under done, otherwise it will be a nightmare when you reach the step of assembling the lasagna rolls.

While the noodles are boiling, get a large bowl and mix two eggs, cheeses, heavy whipping cream, and Italian seasoning. Set aside.

When your noodles are finished, strain and rise with cold water. Lay noodles on a cutting board, and cut in half. Spread cheese mixture on each noodle and roll up. Put all your lasagna rolls in the freezer for about a half hour.

Put a sauce pan over medium heat. Melt butter, and add heavy whipping cream. Stir occasionally until nice and hot, and add cheese and garlic. Simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Take lasagna rolls out of the freezer, and cut them in half to make slightly smaller rolls.

Heat a deep fryer to 350 degrees. If you don’t have a deep fryer, add enough oil to a skillet so the lasagna rolls will be completely covered while frying.

Beat the remainder eggs in a bowl and set aside. In another bowl, add panko bread crumbs and Italian bread crumbs. Dip lasagna rolls in egg, and roll in bread crumb mixture until covered.

Fry for four minutes.

To serve, put lasagna rolls on a plate and drizzle alfredo sauce over top.



Artichoke gratinata

  • Two cans artichoke hearts(you can use frozen artichokes, but I prefer canned because I love the flavor)
  • Three tablespoons olive oil
  • One garlic clove, minced
  • Two tablespoons parsley leaves
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup chicken broth
  • 1/4 cup Marsala or sweet red wine
  • Two tablespoons butter
  • 1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
  • 1/3 cup grated parmesan

Pre heat oven to 450 degrees

In a skillet over medium-high heat, heat olive oil. Add garlic, cook for one minute. Add artichoke hearts, parsley, and salt. Cook for a few minutes until they start to brown. Add wine and chicken broth, and simmer for three minutes. Put in a baking dish.

In the same skillet, melt butter. Add panko bread crumbs and parmesan, and mix. Put over top the artichokes and bake until golden brown, about ten minutes.

A blast from the past


This is supposed to be a car ad for a 1962 Rambler. I know a few car seat safety nazis that will likely have a mini stroke when they see this…. There are a few thoughts I have on this.

  1. How the hell did my mother survive?!
  2. I want to know exactly how they got this kid to hold still. I’m thinking they sedated this baby. I mean, if they didn’t care about car seats in 1962, I’m assuming they weren’t concerned of the possible effects from giving this particular kid morphine for the sake of this car ad.
  3. I am so glad I live in today’s advancement for car seat safety standards. I’m paranoid as shit, it’s very likely I would have never driven anywhere if this were me driving and that was my kid.
  4. On that note, if that were me, and that kid was my son, there’s no effing way he would actually sit in the seat. He would be EVERYWHERE in that car.
  6. Those are some sweet ass baby shoes.