Random stuff...

I'm supposed to be resting right now, but I just can't do it. Too keyed up, I guess. I finished the Antibiotic From Hell yesterday, so hopefully, I will start feeling more like myself, and less like something flattened in the road by a Mack truck.

By the way, I've somehow managed to lose about 11 pounds. Not that I mind, but I can think of better ways to lose weight, you know?

Soccer season is starting up soon. Sign-ups finish this week, and try-outs for the select teams is Thursday afternoon. Miss Priss is split on that. She'd like to try-out for the select team, but... she also wants to play with her friends. I can understand that. I know she's also worried about me. You see, the select teams travel, not just to Austin, but to Corpus Christi, Victoria, etc. And since the Husbandly One will be once again coaching the Impossible Son's team, this means that I will be the one who will be driving the Impertinent One to those away games, and seeing how sick I've been, I know they're all worried. They should know better. I'm a tough old bird. In fact, I plan to be hitting the track before the end of the week, because all this sitting still is getting to me.

I even went out to turn the compost pile this morning, and yeah, it wore me out but you know what? It was nice to have a reason other than being sick to be worn out.

On a side-note, the Impertinent Daughter says things that convulse me, and a lot of times, it's not stuff that anyone but me would find funny. Like this morning. We're in the car, tootling along to school, and I've got one of my own personal mix cd's in the player, and L'Arc En Ciel's "Neo Universe" is on. I look over at her and say, "Want me to change it?"

"Nah," she says, looking out the window. "It's okay."

I'm not fooled, because I already know this song is favorited on her music player, and she knows all the words and has been singing along with it. "Okay," I say, and keep driving. The song ends, and she reaches over to change before the next song can play, because it's one she can't stand, A Perfect Circle, I think. She doesn't like the song after that, and pushes the button again and grimaces when another L'Arc En Ciel song pops up, and then Gackt when she pushes it again. "Great," she mutters as she tries again. "That's all I need to listen to first thing in the morning. A bunch of guys groaning and moaning in Japanese."

I nearly had a wreck. I started laughing, and that made me start coughing, and she had to start thumping me on the back. When I could breathe again, she grinned at me. "Yeah," she said, laughing, "I know, Mom, that was all kinds of wrong, wasn't it?"

Then there was yesterday, when the kids were searching out their soccer balls to air them up, and check them over. The Impossible Son was being an Irritating Little Brother, and I heard her say in exasperation, "No! I don't want to play with your balls, I want to play with mine!!"

You know, squirting Coke out of one's nose can be acutely painful.

I've never seen her face so red, I must say! She looked up and stared at me for one horrified moment, then fell over laughing. She's lucky her papa didn't hear her say that, because he'd never let her live that one down!

She also had a boy she doesn't know come up to her at school to tell her a horrendously bad joke (what is a cow's favorite song? Moooove along!), stare at her in terror, squeak, and rapidly flee the area, leaving her with no clue who, what, or why. "Why do they do that, Mom?" she asked, completely flabbergasted.

"I have no idea," I said, trying not to grin. "It may have to do with wanting to impress you, and having it sound so much better in his head, and then having the reality of how awful it truly was hitting him right after he actually said it. And all he could think of was getting away before you either started laughing or screaming in terror."

She snorted. "Okay. Whatever."

"They're boys, dear," I said, trying so hard not to laugh. "Their little egos are so fragile right now."

"Ew, Mom, that's disgusting! I don't want to know how big or little their ego-thingies or whatever you're calling them this week are!!"

I stared blankly at her for a moment, then nearly swallowed my tongue. OMG!!! It took me a while to straighten that one out!! And it makes me wonder if I'm up to the challenge of dealing with a teenaged girl.

No wonder I'm so tired all the time!!!

What Time Is It?

Swiped from karadin



Oddly fitting, I guess.

Soooooup, Beeeyoootiful Soooooooup!!!

I have to say that sometimes, there is nothing more gratifying than making something for a bunch of kids to eat, and having it all disappear. I can't even resent that I didn't get any, because they ate every single bite.

I made ramen.

Yeah, yeah, I can see you are all extremely impressed with that. "Big Woop, Auntie," y'all say. "So you can boil water and open a seasoning packet. We're so proud."

*blows raspberry at all of you*

I can't use the seasoning packet that comes with ramen. It has like, a ton of MSG in it, and not only does MSG give me migraines, it gives them to Miss Priss, too. *glares at her father for passing on the migraine gene*

I got tired of trying to figure out how to lessen the impact of the MSG, and decided on my own version of ramen, thanks to some research on the Handy Dandy Internet, and a video clip that lddurham posted of her trip to Japan, and a visit to a ramen restaurant.

You see, the noodles don't have MSG in them. So, they're fine to use. So, I use chicken broth, the kind that comes in a carton from the store, and I pour the entire contents into a pot, add just enough salt to taste and start it heating up. I throw in a handful of dried, minced onions, a tiny pinch of basil, an even tinier pinch of oregano, two generous pinches of dried parsley, about an eighth to a fourth teaspoon of diced, dried garlic... and then I get out the frozen veggies.

Carrots, peas, broccoli all get thrown into the pot, along with a diced chicken breast. I buy the pre-cooked chicken breast, cook it in the microwave, then dice it up and toss it in, stirring the entire time. When the broth is boiling, I throw in the ramen noodles, let them cook, and serve it up.

Today, a friend is having a baby, so her daughters came home from school with us, and they, of course, were as hungry as young wolves, so...I made up a huge pot of ramen. There is none left. It always amazes me when I make something that kids like. Well, kids that aren't my own, and especially if what I've made isn't sweet. And no, I didn't get any. Not even a taste. I think they would have licked the pot if they had been able to.

If only I could be that lucky all the time!