AmazonMidwife

(Abby, I couldn't wait until Friday to post this.)

I was hunting through the fridge trying to turn leftovers into a hot lunch and decided to take the leftover mashed potatoes and make potato pancakes. (How hard could it be? The latkes I made for our Hanukkah celebration were the bomb!) So I heated up some olive oil in a pan, and threw a couple of spoons of potatoes in. It was only when I tried to turn the 'pancakes' over that I realized I needed a binding agent and remembered that the latkes had eggs in then. Working on the principle of 'better late than never' (and knowing that the result was not going to be pretty) I stirred up some eggs and poured them directly into the skillet, figuring I could make some kind of hash looking thing. Meanwhile, the Boy followed his nose, looking leerily at the pan. The conversation went something like this:

Boy: Ugh! What's that? I don't think I'll like it.
Me: (stirring in some garlic and salt) It's made from the leftover mashed potatoes. It's like latkes. You'll love it.
Boy: Well, it doesn't look like latkes.
Me: Well, this is a different recipe. It's (grasping wildly at straws).... a British version. Yeah, it's like egg & chips!
Boy: Okay. But do I have to eat the vegetables? (I was warming up some roasted veggies as well...in a separate pan...I'm not that bad a cook!)
Me: Only if you want a cookie for dessert. Otherwise it's fruit.
Girl: (coming in) What is THAT!?
Boy: It's the English version of latkes. Egg & chips, mom says, but not like potato chips. She used the leftover mashed potatoes.
Girl: Oh! Okay!

They're eating it with gusto as I type. I am darning myself to heck for a week for blaming this mess on the British, but otherwise remain unrepentant.

So, we're having a low-key holiday...now that we're home from the early church service where the girl sang for which we arose early to have the ceremonial egg hunt. And now, I'm lying on the couch trying to stay awake long enough to get dinner cooked. (The 'Savant does turkeys; I do hams.) I decided to look for my favorite TV episode ever...that I can remember right now through sleep-deprivation and excess sugar consumption. Here it is, in all it's glory...if you have 24 minutes. If you don't, I recommend part 2 of 3.

And MamaDee, since we don't have a divorced husband from whom we can scam a credit card to max...we need to start saving our pennies. You can be Cybill; I'll be MaryAnn 'cause I'm never gonna jump out of a plane. Whaddya think?

After Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog, I shouldn't be so surprised by NPH musical talents, nor am I by those of Jack Black. But I'm finding that this bears repeated viewing.

Okay, so I was giving the Boy a writing diagnostic yesterday in preparation for purchasing curricula for this 'school year'. He wasn't happy at all about writing and was having quite the snit fit, so I decided I'd try to reason with him on his level:

Me: Listen, my friend, you have to be able to write to take over the world. How will you be able to issue commands to your minions if you can't write?
Him: I will have a scribe!!!!!! (emphasis his)

(Luckily, I was able to think of a quick comeback:)
Me: What if your scribe steals your ideas and takes over the world himself?
Him: (pausing for just a beat) I will keep him in a prison!!!
Me: (heroically keeping a poker face) Dude, then you'll have to spend time feeding him and taking him to the bathroom and making sure that he won't escape. You won't have time for your evil plans. It'd be simpler to learn to write.

He didn't have a comeback for this, only because he was trying to keep from smiling. I don't think he was converted to the light side, but he did finish the diagnostic without another tantrum.

I so rule.

So, I found a vastly appealing blog by an author who calls herself "Attila the Mom" last night and stayed up too late reading it. I particularly loved this:

which I showed the kids this morning, much to their glee, esp. the Boy who ran around chanting "I will whup your narrow ass!" so much that he forgot to pack clothes for the piano lessons he had after swim team practice. (So I got to say it to him in somewhat earnest when I discovered this lack of preparation when we got to swim practice.)

Then I went to Too Tight Pony Girl's blog and read this, thinking to myself that the summer vacation honeymoon was wearing off for moms of traditional schoolers. Ima gonna have to look sharp iffen I wanna keep up my title of "World's Meanest Mama".

Finally, as Steph was getting Her Girl to try on a dress that Steph was making for her, I overheard a snippet which took me back to my younger self standing by my mom's sewing machine.

"Ouch! This has pins in it!"
"Oh, quit whining. Getting stuck by pins has never killed anyone." Then, "Wait! Pull the dress down. The pins like it better that way."

Tough love, I tell you. Moderate it with a gentler tone and a wicked sense of humor and what do you get? A kid that reminds you (with a smart-assed grin) "Remember, I get to pick your nursing home." What else could a mother ask for?