You Won't Have To Worry Yourself Sick Til You're Blue In The Face

Friday Faff: Edition of No Substance

The puppies are causing me to fret.

Last weekend I took Stella to the vet for her annual visit. She weighed in at 21lbs, which we soon discovered was all muscle when it took me plus two others to hold her down for her vaccinations. She got her boosters and the rabies vaccine and deworming medication (and I waved goodbye to $121 ... stupid expensive vet visit) and then didn't poop for two days. And I was all fretty fret fret on Twitter (ps: thanks Charming Driver, you made me feel less twitchy.)


I was hesitant to take her to the vet because she wasn't in any pain, her energy level was the same as it always is, and she was drinking and eating normally. Also, after she got the rabies vaccine last year she developed a giant lump on her back. And I spent $40 to have my vet tell me that lots of dogs react strangely to the vaccine and that unless Stella is swollen around the face and having difficulty breathing, she's fine and it will pass. I set a poop deadline and if nothing happened before it, I would take her to the vet. Fortunately she beat my deadline and everything is fine.

However.

Wolfgang upped his game this week. It doesn't matter what time we feed him or what time we take his water dish away. It doesn't matter that we're feeding him food with the highest protein percentage available or that we're feeding him the largest amount recommended for his weight. The little stinker refuses to sleep through the night. Lately he's not just waking up once a night, either. Last night he cried on three separate occasions, loud enough and long enough to wake me up completely. The first time he needed a pee. The second and third time he ran over to his empty food dish, tail wagging hopefully. I don't feed him when he wakes up during the night. I don't want to encourage his rotten, demanding behaviour. Wolfgang will not finagle a midnight snack out of me. I'm tired, though. I'm tired to the bone today and no amount of coffee will change that.

The situation is exacerbated by the fact that I don't have Shawn's help this week. He's doing an intensive training program this week, capped off by a five hour exam on Saturday, so it's been my job to help lessen his load. It means that I am in charge of the puppies and I am attempting to keep food in the fridge and clean underwear in our drawers, and I really don't mind it, I don't. I just want to sleep through the night, just once. It's been so long.

I'm overwhelmed and I feel like a dork for being this anguished by two little puppies. How will I ever be a mother if I can't even handle taking care of pups? I'm assuming that babies are more labour-intensive than puppies and I cannot adequately describe just how deeply that scares me.

This wasn't supposed to be a poor-me post. I wanted to talk about how scandalized I was by your comments on my family shenanigans post (Nilsa, I was shocked when I read yours. You made your brother eat dog poop? I am surprised he still speaks to you!) And I wanted to thank you for your baby shower game suggestions. Ms. B, I am totally stealing your Who's Your Mama idea. Oh and Racquel? Your comment made my day. My plan for tonight is to watch the hockey game and make cupcakes. If that doesn't beat my grumpy mood into submission, I don't think anything will.

Happy Friday, lovelies! Stay out of trouble.

There's Clouds In My Shower Ghosts In My Arms

It seems that getting knocked up is the cool thing to do lately. (Seriously, I could have linked to a million more people. I can't believe how many babies are currently brewing. Then I thought I'd start linking to people who aren't actually pregnant, because how funny would that be? But then I got lazy. So. Onwards.)

I'm throwing a baby shower for my dear friend, K, on Saturday and have no idea what hosting a baby shower entails. I thought I'd bake a bunch of cupcakes and provide a location for people to come and lavish K with gifts. I didn't realize that I'd have to provide entertainment as well. (For me, cupcakes = entertainment. What can I say, I'm easy to please.)

I've been frantically searching the Internet for non-lame baby shower games (no really, I googled "non-lame baby shower games") but guess what I found? LAME BABY SHOWER GAMES. I am uninterested in anything that has to do with guessing which chocolate bar has been melted into a diaper. I am equally uninterested in pinning anything on anything (whether it be a baby in a belly or diaper pins on your sweater (also, I do not understand the point of the diaper pins on your sweater game. Surely there must be more to it than just pinning diaper pins on your sweater, right?).) As far as guessing K's weight or the circumference of her belly goes, I just want to say that I value my friendship with K and would like it to continue past this weekend.

The only games that have appealed to me so far are the Celebrity Baby Names game (where you match the crazy baby name with the celebrity parent) and Baby Price is Right (where you have to guess the price of certain baby items.) Both seem to be a bit intense though, as far as preparation goes, and I'm hoping to not devote a lot of time to this shower. I know, I'm a rotten friend. I just don't have a lot of free time this week and I was hoping to spend the free time that I do have, watching the Canucks games (there's 3 this week. 3! On top of all the other tv I watch! It's madness. Oh and speaking of the other tv I watch + madness: really Tyra? The goddess of fierce? Really?)

Then there's the prizers. Prizes! People are coming to my house (well, my mom's house but only because it's way bigger than mine) to eat my food and I have to give them presents. What the eff is that about? Obviously I think the prizes should be cock soup but I don't know how appropriate that would be at a baby shower. K would love it but I don't know if her grandma will.

Anyway.

If you've ever had a baby shower, or planned a baby shower, or attended a baby shower, and played some non-lame games, please let me know. Also, I'm sorry if I've offended anyone by labelling their favourite baby shower game as lame. But if you think the melted chocolate bar in the diaper game is non-lame, I'm sorry to tell you that you're wrong. It is so lame, it should be banned.

Just Beat It Beat It Beat It Beat It No One Wants To Be Defeated - Take 3

After last month's borscht debacle, Alice commented with a beet preparation method she had recently tried (and liked.) Her method was to peel and cube the beets, toss with olive oil, vinegar and sea salt, and then roast them. Peeling and cubing the beets before roasting allegedly results in a less beety flavour. Now, I like Alice. I also really like the combo of vinegar and sea salt. I'd like to be able to say that Alice's beets rock but that would be a dirty lie. All I can say is that Alice's beets sucked less than February's borscht and January's whole-roasted beets.

The trick is to serve the beets with a lot of other foods that you can use to mask the flavour. Gravy helps.

Last week, Lisa asked what food smell you would want to smell like, if you had to smell like it forever. Her post makes much more sense than my last sentence does. Anyway, after concluding that I would like to smell like either limes or rosemary, I decided that I would want Shawn to smell like roast chicken. And then I couldn't stop thinking about roast chicken. I'm crazy like that.


So I made a roast chicken. The trick is to make a mixture of butter (it has to be real butter, none of this margarine crap), lemon zest and finely chopped fresh rosemary. Then you sort of peel the chicken skin up away from the meat and massage the butter mixture up in there. It is disgusting and slimy and suggestive and you're welcome for not posting photos. Anyway, the magic mixture makes the meat really moist and flavourful and the skin really crisp (if you eat skin. Which I don't. But it looks good!) I stuff the cavity with a whole head of garlic and lemon slices for good measure. And now I want roast chicken again, dammit.

the magic mixture

In other chicken news, I found this in the ethnic food aisle of my grocery store:

It should be noted that the badge in the lower-left corner identifies the soup mix as a product of Canada.

Cock soup: it's what's for dinner. This will never get old.

You Left Some Stars In My Belly

Friday Faff: Contracts, Cakes, Creepiness and Cuteness Edition

Without going into too much detail, my employment situation is as follows:
I went for three interviews with the new company and was offered the job on Monday. I was working on a ridiculously long pros & cons list until my current boss increased my salary by 25% to entice me to stay. One of the new job's cons was the pay cut so it was an easy decision to make. If Shawn's situation was more stable, or if he hadn't just taken a pay cut, the decision would have been more difficult to make but for now I'm a sellout and I'm okay with it.

Wolfgang agrees.

Last week Shawn and I made a list of luxuries we would need to do without if I were to take the job with the lower salary. Talking about how we're going to spend my raise (after we take care of a little thing called Credit Card Debt) is much more fun. At the top of my list? Laser eye surgery. To which Shawn replied, "Fuck laser eye surgery. Let's get lasers!" How could I argue with that?

Wolfgang would like some laser eye surgery too, please.

Actually, Wolfgang would just like for his stupid asshole puppy teeth to fall out already.
Oh no wait, that's me and my poor, punctured hands.

* * * * *

I have a confession to make: I hate black forest cake. I made the cake because it's my dad's favourite but I didn't actually eat any. I'm not sure if it was tasty or not. I have to admit, I don't think it was as tasty as it looked. Turtle said the frosting made it skanky (but in a loving way) and Shawn said it was too sweet. Bing, I used this recipe.

* * * * *

Thanks for voting in my poll! The Over-Thinker made a surprise comeback last night and I'm taking all the credit. To the 6 cheeky monkeys who voted for Answer 5, I have decided that Answer 5 = send Hillary a present. So. I like chocolate and books and money.

* * * * *

And now for the cuteness! I saved the best for last.

Wolfgang's newest favourite pastime (besides chewing hands and air-humping) is to lie on my legs and have his tummy rubbed.

Wolfgang has a very difficult life.

He becomes very annoyed when I stop rubbing. You can just file that under "sounds dirty but isn't intended as such."

Rub mah bellllyyy, woman!

Happy Friday everyone!

Baby Come Back You Can Blame It All On Me

I actually wrote this post yesterday but then remembered that it was time for another monthiversary post. So I wrote a letter to Shawn and accidentally posted it with the Over-Thinker poll. It was all kinds of awesome. So if you caught it before I fixed it, this is what the poll refers to:

Ode to the Over-Thinker (I know it's actually a limerick and not an ode but I don't care. I like saying things are odes to other things; it makes me happy in the pants. Well, not really but it is my blog and if I want to say something is an ode to something, I damn well will.)

There once was a lady named Thinker
Who left and my heart did a sinker
My heart has turned black
I hope she comes back
Come on lady, don't be a stinker!



PS - this is the first poll I've ever done and I can't make "Answer 5" disappear. Don't judge me.

Carbon's Anniversary The Parting Of The Sensory - 7

Dear Shawn,

Happy 7 Monthiversary!

The last month has been the most difficult month of our marriage so far. You lost your job while I was in the process of deciding whether or not to leave mine. It was difficult to see you feeling so blue, especially since you are definitely the more positive one in this relationship. And then to top it all off, you got sick with the Flu of Doom and then passed it on to me.

We got through it though, relatively unscathed. My employment situation is officially resolved and my head has stopped melting. You started your new job on Monday and even though you don't love it yet, I'm hopeful that you will soon.

Life is slowly returning to normal.

This past month has made me really appreciate how calm you manage to make me feel. We both know I'm a tad emotive (understatement of the year!) and I while I won't admit to overreacting, I will agree that I tend to react strongly to situations. The upheaval we experienced in the last month would normally send me spinning but you managed to keep me steady. Sure there was stress and a few tears and a few brain-meltingly frustrating moments, but there was also laughter and poutine and homemade chicken soup.

We survived the last month and I can't wait to kick next month's ass with you.

Love you.

Hillary

Crumb By Crumb In This Big Black Forest

A lot has happened in the last week but my flu-addled brain is still in processing mode. In lieu of a real post, I'm posting photos of the Black Forest Cake I made for my Dad's 65th birthday this weekend (well, technically it was his 16 & 1/4th birthday because he was born on February 29th.)

Start with 2 chocolate cakes, cut in half to create 4 rounds

Sprinkle the cut sides with a mixture of Kirsch and the juice from a tin of sour cherries

Make a mocha butter cream frosting

Whip a shameful amount of cream

Layer the cakes with the frosting and the drained cherries

Cover in whipped cream

Top with chocolate shavings

and candles!

Attempt to serve aesthetically pleasing slices, give up when the cake starts to collapse

Happy Birthday, Dad!