I made these tasty, tasty meatballs last week. Oh, my. Yes. Behold! I meatloaf that I can actually cook & eat. Yea! They cook, all the way through & I can cut them up to avoid any unsettling dinner time texture issues!

But, really. Seriously. Best meatloaf-y tastiness EVAH.


I made just half the recipe. Cause really.... three adults. 1 child. Yeah.



BUT. But.... we made the full recipe for the sauce. Yes, indeed-y. With quite a loose hand shaking in the hot sauce... cause, um. Yes, please. Even the young lad enjoys some spice in his meals. Makes me so very, very proud.

And. Someone helped make the sauce. Yes. He was so very, very proud. And he ate. And ate. And then the young Jedi ate.... some more.

Yum.



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What Have I Been Doing?

Mostly, playing :-)




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Playing with New Apps

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

What Happens when You're Away from the Blog

They go and CHANGE EVERYTHING.

I logged in today, thinking I would do some long neglected blogging & have spent none of this time, you know... actually blogging (except, ya know... right now). Cause I've been trying to figure out the new Blogger Dashboard.

This is going to take a while to learn. 

Ah well, I would hazard a guess that its what I deserve... I am going to put a blog app on my phone. I can't always get to the computer- but I always have my phone... my pretty pretty phone. (or leash depending on when you talking to me about it) 

Oh, that reminds me- I have a new phone.... I bought myself an iPHONE4.... yes, "just the 4." For an extra $100 and three days waiting, I do not need Siri. Really. I would never use it. But, I loooove this phone. It's pretty & white and I really need to get a new case for it. 

And yes, very strict keep-your-hands-off-my-phone-little-boy rules have gone into place around here. Others may let the crumb-cruncher play with their phones. But I can't so easily replace mine. And I will not have my phone suffer death by almost 4 year old. 

Okay, enough playing around for today- I need to adjust the ice on my shin splints. Ugh. Another story for another post.

Too Much

As in too much stuff.

I have it. And it's driving me crazy. Slowing crawling towards me, trying to squeeze the life out of me. Meep! You wouldn't think that, between me & the short person, that we would accumulate as much 'stuff' as we have... but darn it if we haven't managed it.

And I've stands it till I can't stands it no more.
..... (yes, I know that was a terrible sentence. on purpose.)

Operation Get Rid of All This Crap has begun, people. Oh, it's begun. And there's no mercy. No quarter being shown. If it's not pretty, useful, joy inducing...... or hasn't (you know) been used in (oh, I don't know) 3-5 years (!!!), it's outa here!!!!!

And let me tell ya, something has gotta be down about the clothes closets.... that's all I'm sayin'. Way too many clothes. Way. Too. Many. Clothes. Seriously, what 3 year old boy needs that many clothes?!?!?!?!?!?!

Ha!

No, really. He's better dressed than I am.

And the toys. Sigh. The toys. I already went through those. He's getting a savings account for college for his 4th birthday... that's it. Maybe a library card. No more toys. They are taking over. One Thomas the Tank engine at a time.

Though, I'm not much better. The books, the shoes, the boxes of stuff that's stored in two places. Ack!

Yup. It's time to start getting rid of stuff.
Somebody call Goodwill.
.... and get me a box.

Bad Blogger

I am. Really. Sigh.
There's no excuse for it.
I'm going to be better.
I promise.
It's my Resolution this year.

Blog More.



(confession.... the pictures are from November.... Meep!)

Dragon Child

So, I have a confession. For most of my sweet little life I have had a wee (read:massive) battle that I have waged with myself. At different points of my life I've been better (and worse) at battling this particular dragon.

My Temper. Oh, dear Lordy, my temper. I hate it. I really do.
It has really, never served me well. Truth me told, I have been the servant of my temper. Because once my temper is unleashed- I am a slave to it. It just rolls off of me. Like some kind of crazy hot steam off a mountain.

It's a flashpoint. An ugly. Nasty flashpoint. And it shames me.

Why am I writing about this today? Because I failed epically last night in controlling my temper. Oh yes, the dragon child came out the play. Much to my shame. Words have power. The words that were spoken to me- the built up the my frustration. And the words that I hurled in my anger... that I should not have said.

I know better than to let my mouth control my actions. And it hurts my heart that I failed another person so dreadfully.

Sigh.

The Potty & the Training

(note: if a blog post about potties... or pee. or poop... or any of that business bugs you... You would do well to move along.)

It might really be happening, yall.

I'm kinda (like) totally afraid to jinx it in anyway by getting to excited... but... I think the Boy is well on his way to being potty-trained.

Praise the Lord. Pass the tax rebate & Amen. Hallelujah. and Cheers.

Seriously.

After the spring & summer (and partial fall) of "no-I-don't-think-I-need-to-poop-EVER-again-thank-u-very-much"..... I was starting to have my doubts. Needless to say, we were NOT potty trained when the 1st day of playschool rolled around in September.

So, we had to be demoted down from the 3year old class (J is 3) and into the 2/3 year old class.

(I had many dark thoughts about this. Really. Can anyone tell me why the push to get the kids potty-trained *COMPLETELY* by the age of 3? Or they can't go into the "regular" class? I don't get it. Didn't then. Still don't now.)

Anyway. Moving on.

Sometime in the last month or so, the light just clicked on. The child is pee'ing in the potty. And wearing 'unnawears'. He trots his little self into the bathroom & sits on his little Elmo potty.... usually after looking at me and saying, "I'll be right back Mommy. Just a minute."

Biggidy Butt.
... my one concern- getting him to remember to actually *tell* people that he has to go the potty. We are a shade on the independent side around here. And it might kinda, sorta bug us when we aren't able to do everything by ourselves when we think we should. (we're working on that)

So proud of him. And he's proud of his Thomas the Train Underwear.
~now, if I can just get him to poop in the potty instead of Pull-ups.... which, right now is what he's insisting is the only right & honorable receptacle that poop can go into. (we're working on that too)

Thanks for the Memories

Peace out, Aggs.
Love, The Mighty Texas Longhorns.
:-)

(I have never loved field goals more than I did this past Thanksgiving.)

She Knew What She Wants...

And she wanted to go to the Fair and see the Bangles.

And a very sweet guy took her. Hee! God Bless my sweet 80's childhood and God Bless sweet E, who doesn't mock (too much).

The Bangles were great. Check it off my bucket-list, thank you very much. And the crowd. Oh, bless my heart- the crowd. The women, my age- who were little girls when the Bangles were at the top of their popularity... the women who were a weee bit older.... and the little girls in the audience who weren't even born. Oh, my.

I have rarely felt so young and so old at the same time. (and I think that's the first of many, many times in the future.)

me and E... and Big Tex

waiting on the Bangles. one of us is way more excited than the other.

(this has nothing to do with the Bangles. It's the Fried S'more.... my fav Fair food. And deserving of a yearly picture.)

The Bangles!!!

Running from Zombies

So.

Yeah, bad Bloggergirl. I know. I know. It's been a crazy month. I promise to get back on the blogging band waggon. Really!

Did I mention that I am signed up to run in a 1/2 marathon in March? No? Well, yeah. I am. Why? cause I am totally insane. There's officially no doubt. Listen, yall- I am NOT a runner. My thought & theory behind running has always gone something like this, "I'll start running when the zombies start chasing after me."

Well.

I'm running for them.
There are real-life zombies who chase after people every day.
If you want to help- strap on your running shoes! Just kidding! (sort of.) Feel free to donate on-line. I'll be throwing up a button on my blog soon & shamelessly begging people for sponsorship in the next few weeks.

Everyone have a wonderful Wednesday! I'll see yall tomorrow! Same bat-time! Same, sometimes, batty-channel!

To Recap

It's been an eventful spring, summer and fall around Bloggergirl Inc. And, while I try to keep things light and upbeat around here- as we all know, sometimes life gets in my way

We shall start with the bad news, my Grandma passed away in July. I am still grieving. I have been blessed and spoiled by being 30 and (as of July) still having 3 of my grandparents. And I was keenly aware of that. Those were some of the hardest days of my life, thus far. And... that's saying something. My Grandma was human. She was flawed. But Eleanor Pentino knew how to LOVE. And she taught her family how to love. We're all still trying to grapple with her last few months of life (they sucked). Trying to focus on the greater-than 80 years prior to those months. And, trying to figure out what life without her means now.

For me- it means, back to school. Yea. Lot's of time in the kitchen as well. I am on a mission to immerse myself in my Grandma's recipe's. Cooking. It's how I cope. There's something therapeutic in chopping and stirring and tasting and standing over a hot stove. Hitting the Italian Rosseta Stone lessons harder. I am determined to go to Rome & go to Mass for my Grandma... she wanted to go but didn't get to. And I want to go to the homeland. And teaching the little dude all of these things- and more.

Some good news? (please, oh please? you say) I have been keeping company with another J as of late. How do you like that turn of phrase? For the purposes of this blog, we shall call him "E". Just because having to "J"'s is waaaaay too confusing. I suppose I could call Jacob "little J" and the other, "big J".... but that's a little silly. And there is logic to my "E"- last name. :-)

Let's see, a little about E. He likes sushi. Me. Books. He's wicked funny. Darned handsome. Will read anything... no really, I mean it (I have the saved, emailed news articles to prove it... wait is that weird?... hmmm). And I think I've got him convinced that taking your intrepid Bloggergirl to the Great State Fair of Texas to see the Bangles (yea!) is a great idea.
He'll be thrilled, he got props on my blog.

Somewhat off the wall question that will make sense in a moment- are there any scifi cool kid geeks out there? Yes? Great. Are you reading Jim Butcher's Dresden Files? No? Then get thee to the book store or to the internet book supplier of your choice and start reading. Just sayin'.

Okay people- happy Wednesday.
Oh, before I forget! I joined twitter! Join me there!
And come back tomorrow to here my rant about facebook, twitter & my newest bit of crack, pinterest!
Peace out!

Oh, Yes I Did

I admit it.

I watched the premiere of Two & a Half Men last night.... with my dad. Why? Obviously I have no shame when it comes to television & my viewing habits are questionable. But, hey- at least I draw my line at reality tv...

Anyway. Back on point. Ah, yes. Ashton Kutcher's bare tushy.

What? there was pixelation. (pixleling? pixels?)

I laughed. I did. There, I said it. My daddy laughed. We burst out loud laughing. Evidently we have the comic maturity of 13 year olds- what can I say... I am my father's daughter in some ways.
But we did walk away with some valuable life lessons (as we always do).

Life Lessons from Last Night's Two and a Half Men
Never marry your stalker.
Hell halth no fury like a stalker scorner. (see above rule)
Teenage boys are always hungry. At all times. No matter what.
A Dustbuster can pick up anything.
A lack of emotional maturity could= Alan Harper as your savior... = naked hugging


Yes, it's a new show. Yes, if it offended you before- it will probably offend you now. No, it doesn't have an ounce of sentiment in its' marrow. But, darnit- it's funny.

"And he's a hugger."

Return of the BloggerGirl

AAANnnnnnd,

She's back.

Really, I have no excuse- save for the fact that I totally forgot my blogger password. Really. I'm not kidding. One would think that I would have the 20million or so passwords that I maintain written down somewhere, but I might be a wee bit paranoid about someone with evil intentions getting their hands on my password list & having their wicked way with my stuff....

..... if only I had been a smidge more paranoid about the thought of not remembering my password & thus not being able to ... you know, blog. Sigh.

Ah well.

Lots and lots going on here-
I'll save it for another day.
More food.
More stories.
More pictures.
.... and the ongoing saga of the epic journey of a mother & her 3 year old son who believes pooping is for chumps!

Be sure to check the sidebar. New links are coming soon! (none of the are about poop)
Until next time

Irony with a Side of Burgers

Or maybe the other way around.

Anyway.

True story. I do not like burgers. Or meatballs. Or meatloaf. Or any other compacted meat... thing. I have nothing against ground meat- I find it tasty, but when it's compacted... we've got trouble. It's a texture thing & it skeeves me out.

::shudder::

However, I make a really kicking burger.

ground beef
1 packet of hidden valley ranch dressing
worcestershire sauce (several healthy shakes out of the bottle)
hot sauce (just a shake or two)... note: sauce, not salsa, there's a difference
salt (a couple of grinds)
pepper (a couple of grinds)
... and to really make it fun, toss in some cheese crumbles- I like blue cheese

Mix it all together & let it sit and chill in the fridge for a couple of hours before you pat them out into patties and through them on the grill. And, if you have texture issues, like yours truly, then crumble your pattie up (sloppy joe style) & enjoy on your bun.... just be sure you can ignore the eye rolling from your beloved friends and family!

Peace Out!

Thinking Out Loud

I was reading a blog post today on a blog site I rarely go to. My readings are extremely varied. I like reading the thoughts of people who agree with me... but I also like to read the thoughts of people who do not agree with me. Call me crazy, but there are days when I do want to hear from people who hold totally opposing viewpoints from me- I think it's healthy. and it keeps me from getting intellectually lazy.

Today was one of those days. The blog post that is sitting on my brain revolves around a lady who doesn't support the Boy Scouts of America because they are mean to gays and people who don't believe in God. (that's really not all that far off from the words she used.) They are bigoted, she says & she doesn't support them. That the Supreme Court was wrong to let them continue in their meanness. And, by the way, here's a link where you could make the BSA be nicer- or "affirming and inclusive." And other mothers chimmed in, affirming her.

(she does support the Girl Scouts, who are nice to gays and people who don't believe in God... if you were wondering.... and posted a link where you could go give the Girl Scouts a big "Way to Go!" if you were so inclined.)

Anyway- what struck me was this..... the Boy Scouts say upfront what they believe in. There is really no mystery. Why could they want to allow people who don't believe the same things they do into their organization? And for that matter, why would people who don't believe the same things that the Boy Scouts do WANT to be involved?

Because there is more to it, I think. Because some people can't respect that others don't agree with them. Because it's much easier to hang ugly labels on people and groups than it is to say, "You know what, I disagree. But, let's agree to disagree." AND WALK AWAY.

Respect runs both ways.

Happy Birthday Grandpa

me and my grandpa, Norman Pentino- 91 years old today

The Bottom

Some days I'm just scraping the bottom of the barrel to find blogging material.

I admit it. Like today. All I really want to do is whine about my allergies. And the nasty, dirty car that I really need to clean out before it stages a revolt and drives away on its own. (not that I would blame it, AT ALL.)

..... and speaking of whining- can I just tell you about my cell phone?

Ugh. Ok, here's the deal. I have had this phone for about a year or so. In other words, IT'S NOT THAT OLD. But every 5-7 text messages or so, I have to take the back off. Take the battery out. Put the battery back in. Replace the back. Then turn the phone back on. And then I can go back to the text messaging area of the phone and go the outbox where my message has been lovingly (not!) saved and send my (freaking!) message.

Why must I do this? I'm going with, because my phone has a demon.

....I miss my Razor. My pretty, pretty Pink Razor. I mourn it. I do.

Oh, and also- sometimes, my phone will blast people with 3 or 4 texts from me at very odd times of the day.... like 3 or 4 in the blessed morning. Good times.

So, if I know you in the real world & you get multiple, oddly timed text messages from me.... no, I'm not loosing my mind (yet)... my phone has it out for me.

And yes,I probably was trying to ask you or tell you something at one time... feel free to inquire what it was! :-)

Words? Totally Not Needed.

When Everything Is Said

In the last month or so, I have had 2 dear ladies in different branches of my family pass away. Each of them lived long lives. They were the matriarchs of their respective branches & are so darn loved and will always be.

Death is an interesting device.

When both of these dear ladies passed, everyone did what just about all people do- they started going through the Rolodex of their minds, reliving every moment they could remember. Thinking back on their times with them, laughing, crying, talking about their personalities. What they believed in. Who they were, way down the marrow.

And that started me thinking. When it's all said and done & you're not here anymore and memories are all that people have left of you.... who will people say you were?

It's a question I've been asking myself a great deal this month. It's a question that's worth asking of ourselves a lot, I think. The memories and the legacy that we leave behind for others are really what it's all about, in the end. I think they are more tangible than money, or cars, or clothes or any of that stuff- because all of that junk can be taken away. But the moments... the life we live with the people around us... that can't be taken away. Not really.

Anyway- I've just been thinking about what will be said. What I hope will be said. And how to live a life worthy of it.