Tightly bred.

My kids look just like me.

My sister's kids look just like her.

My brother's kid looks just like him.

And they all look like each other.

No matter who our spouses are, the white trash gene pool is strong.

Also in my family the following scenario occurred:  My Dad and his brother married my Mom and her sister.  So their kids are my double cousins.  And guess what?  THEIR kids look just like mine, too.

Before zj was born, I was on bedrest for a while, and during that time I became addicted to the show Jon & Kate Plus 8.  At that time she was not yet a skank ho evil bitch a celebrity, and I thought (and still do) that Jon looked an awful lot like RJ.  Good thing looks are only skin deep, huh?

So I was convinced that my kid was going to look like all the little Gosselin children.  In all their cute Asian-ness.  With their slightly slanted dark eyes, and olive skin and dark hair.  I was going to be the one who had different-looking kids.

I was sure of it.

After all, Asian features are usually quite dominant, right?

Wrong.

When zj was born, his hair was darkish, but his eyes were (and still are) round and bright blue.  CJ's eyes aren't blue, but they sure aren't brown either.  And they are quite round as well.

When RJ's mother saw zj for the first time, she said, and I quote: "Eyes so round.  So blue. Such shame." Then she made that tsk-tsking noise through her teeth to make sure I was well aware of her disapproval of me for making a baby that was so white.

I was aware, all right.

Whatever.

Anyway, I was discussing this phenomenon with someone at work one day.  Her brother's wife is Japanese, and their baby boy looks darn well like he should, slanted eyes and all.   Oh, and as an aside, she also raises horses in her spare time.

I mentioned to her that I thought Asian characteristics were usually dominant.

"Well, that's true." she said.  "Maybe your gene pool is tightly bred."

This was not a phrase I was familiar with.

"Tightly bred?"

"Oh.  You have dominant traits." She laughed, slightly embarrassed.

"But what does 'tightly bred' really mean?"  I was curious.

"Well, it means that there is a lot of the same family characteristics that get passed on and the dominant traits...  insert very good and very technical explanation here."


I finally got it.

"Oh, what you're trying to say, quite nicely, is that my traits are dominant because my family tree doesn't branch so much?"

Yeah, I got it all right.

Superhero Tuesday.

We like to start 'em young around here.

My chocolate gives the most awesome advice.

Do you believe in signs?

Not like STOP signs, of course.  Everybody believes in those even if they don't usually follow their advice.

But, you know, like, signs?

Like this one that I found in my Dove Chocolate.

See, here's the deal.   There are a whole lot of things that I have been thinking about changing lately, and one of them is a pretty major change.  

But up until this point, it's really just thinking.  

Nothing's happened yet.

I think about it A LOT.

ALL THE TIME.

But again, nothing is happening.

(Dear family and friends - not to worry.  I'm not planning to divorce RJ again, and I won't really sell my kids on Ebay.  Probably.)  

See, I'm not really so good with change.  

Freaks me out, change does.

It's why I tend to do the same things over and over and over.

Work the same job for 16 years.  

Marry the same man twice (although in his defense, RJ is a much better husband than my first husband ever was :).

Dress the same.

Have the same hobbies.

You name it, I've probably always done it the same way.

But through all the sameness, I've always had thoughts.  Thoughts about how things could be different if I were willing to face the fear and make a change.

Lately, these thoughts are pretty consuming.

And I think my chocolate just tipped me over the edge.

More to come...

Another Parenting Q&A Session with MJ.

Yes, he's really asleep.

Yes, he's in the middle of the floor.

Yes, it's in a high traffic area.

No, I'm not sure how he got there.

Yes, his clothes are mostly off.

No, I'm not sure exactly how that happened.

Yes, we usually let him sleep in a bed.

No, I'm not the most terrible parent in the world.

Yes, I'm probably in the top 10.

Yes, I left him right there.

See?

Help! I have forgotten how to dress myself!

Oh dear.

Tonight I have to go to a Thing.  You know, a Thing that involves a restaurant with more than one fork, and several courses, and RJ's boss. 

Oh dear.

I've never been especially comfortable in social situations, because to be honest, I'm just not very... sociable.

But I've learned to smile a lot, nod sometimes, and make eye contact enough that it's flattering but not creepy.  I have also learned that most people really, really, really like to talk about themselves, given the opportunity, so I'm pretty good at strategic questions that will keep folks talking for hours.  

So that much will be fine.

The problem lies in what to wear to such a place.

I'm not a fancy girl by any stretch of the imagination, and I never have been. 

But in the last few years, I've really let myself go a bit.

In my defense, there has been a lot going on.

A high stress job.  A high-stress husband.  Two boys under the age of four.  A house to keep.  You know, life.

But while perusing my closet for something reasonable to wear to the Thing, I made some startling discoveries:

1. The only shoes I own are Crocs and flip flops.

2. I have 11 black sweaters, each in progressive state of fading or disrepair.  Two have holes, 3 have missing buttons and one seems to have been recently worn by an elephant.

3. To wear under my 11 black sweaters, I have 13 tank tops in various states of disrepair.

4. Most of my pants are one size too big.

5. Most of my shirts are one size too small.

6. I have nothing to wear to the Thing.

7. I wouldn't know good fashion if it hit me in the face.

The real problem, of course, is that I don't really care.  Oh, I care RIGHT NOW, but as soon as this gig is over, I won't care again until the next Thing.  Also, I'm cheap and don't like to spend money on clothes.  And I'm really most comfortable in what amounts to my pjs - a t-shirt, some sweats, and house slippers.  I'd wear them to work if I could, and I'm pretty sure I have worn them to the grocery (yes, I'm THAT person).

So anyway, I'll muddle through tonight with my least worst black sweater, and tomorrow I won't care again.

Asian style beef with broccoli. Because we're Asian, you know.

I have not always enjoyed Asian food.

This quickly became a problem in my relationship with RJ, because, oh wait, he's half Vietnamese.

So I learned.

I learned

how to make spring rolls, which are delightful, and I learned how to make Pho, which is hard and smells weird and which I won't eat because of the weird smelling part, and I learned how to eat out at Asian restaurants without embarrassing either one of us.

And over time I developed a fondness for a few things.

Like Beef with Broccoli.

Oh, and I'm not completely Asian-uninformed. I do realize that this particular dish is not of Vietname

se origin, and that it is really some Americanized thing that is served in Chinese restaurants for the white people to enjoy, but so what? It tastes good in my mouth.

WHAT YOU NEED:

2 Tablespoons flour

2 cups (give or take) of beef broth

2 teaspoons of white sugar

2 Tablespoons of soy sauce

a tiny tiny bit of fresh ginger root (like about the size of a penny)

1-2 cloves garlic, peeled

1 pound sliced steak - I use the really thin breakfast steaks, or flank steak. The thinner you can slice it, the better it will be.

1 large head of broccoli, chopped into bite sized pieces

some chopped mushrooms (optional)

Don't you just love it when a recipe tells you something is optional, like everything else HAS to be there, but that one thing really doesn't? Hello?!? Recipe?!? I don't really even have to make you AT ALL. So there. You are completely optional to me...

Oil (vegetable, olive, canola, whatever)

WHAT YOU DO:

Put the first six ingredients into a blender or food processor and blend it all up. If you have a smallish food processor like I do, you might have to leave half of the broth out of the mixture until after blending. Just put it in later. I won't really care.

In a large skillet or wok, heat a bit of oil - maybe a tablespoon of it. After the oil is heated, toss in the steak, mushrooms and broccoli, and toss it around on high heat until the meat isn't pink any more.

Add in the sauce and reduce the heat to medium. The sauce will start to thicken. I like mine well done and kinda mushy, so I cook it for about 10-12 minutes, but if you prefer your vegetables to still look like their original form, 5 minutes or so will do ya.

Serve it over white rice.

Or brown rice.

Totally OPTIONAL.

The one where the baby learned to crawl. Sort of.

I love me some nook. This is not a dirty post.

I work for a major chain bookstore.  Pretty much the only thing I know how to do in this life is to sell books to people, whether they want them or not.

They usually want them, by the way, they just don't know it yet.

Anyway, back in the fall, my boss-type peeps at the bookstore made a major announcement - we were joining the e-reader race, right in time for Christmas.

I ordered one right away.

I justified the $259 by saying that it was a joint Christmas present for both RJ and me, but I was totally planning to make it mine, all mine.

Mainly, I wanted one so I could figure out how to use it and how to teach my customers to use it, too.

I wasn't totally sold on all the possibilities of using an electronic thingy to do all my reading on.

It seemed wrong.

It seemed too futuristic.

I'm a traditionalist.

Nothing can replace BOOKS, right?

After about 5 minutes with the thing, I was hooked.

Hooked on nook.  Ha ha.

God, I'm funny.

Anyway, back to my nook.  The thing that I love about it is how very portable it is.  I know books are portable, too, but you can tote THOUSANDS of books on this one thing.

I always get panic-y when I'm almost done with a book and I don't have anything new lined up.  That does not happen with my nook.  It doesn't matter where I am, I can always get something new to read in about a minute.

It's really handy, because before, if I was somewhere near the end of a book and I was going to go somewhere, like to an appointment, or somewhere that I might have to sit in the car for some period if time, I would have to take TWO books, just in case I finished one.  But I only need one nook.

Pretty cool.

Oh, and it's easy to use.  Even for the technologically challenged, like me.

You should go out and buy one today.

Cause it's cool.

Superhero Tuesday. The Book Edition.

This is The Book.

The Book is where all Knowledge of all things Superhero comes from.

Zackie Johnson, Woodpecker Hunter.

Apparently, the woodpeckers in our neighborhood are pretty hard up right now, as one of their flock seems to believe that he can woodpeck his way into our vinyl-sided house.  

RJ is sort of obsessed with the aforementioned woodpecker, and every time the "tap, tap, tap" starts, he runs outside to chase it away.  There is talk of bb guns, slingshots and possibly a woodpecker trap.

Really.

The other day, RJ was at work and the woodpecker of doom returned, so zj did what all good first-born sons do - he took up the cause of the father.

zj: "Mama, do you hear that?"

Me: "Hear what?"

zj: "Mama, it's that woodpekkah.  He's pekkin' at our house.  Quick, I need my sword.  I'll go get him."

Ahhh.  Like father, like son.

I am really awesome at figuring out obscure voices of cartoon characters. It's a gift.

Zj's current cartoon of choice is...

Wait for it...

Wait for it...

Wait for it...

Krypto the Superdog.

It's all about Superman's dog, who for some reason doesn't live with Superman any more, he lives with some kid, and he's friends with Batman's dog, whose name is Ace the Bat Hound. There are some cats, too, but I'm not entirely sure which superheroes they used to belong to.

Anyway, zj was watching it the other day while I screwed around online folded laundry, and I heard a voice.  A very familiar voice.  The voice that was coming out of Ace was one that I recognized.

I thought.

I obsessed.

I  thought some more.  For about fifteen minutes or so, I was completely, utterly, totally thinking about this cartoon character's voice.

Then, an epiphany.

It was the same voice as this guy:

A quick Google search confirmed my suspicion.

Oh, and by the way, both these cartoon characters are voiced by this man:

So basically, this is the guy I spent an afternoon obsessing about.

There's no accounting for taste, I guess.

Flying lessons.

A few days ago, zj came running up to me.

"Mama, I

need my cape."

"What for?" I asked.

"Wwwwell, I need to go practice my flying. I'm going to take LESSONS."

So far, he has not actually left the ground. I expect it won't be long.

Well balanced meal or lazy Mama. You decide.

It ain't about you no more. Trust me, whoever you are. I heard all about it.

A week or so ago, RJ and I dropped the kids at the sitter and had an afternoon date.  It was RJ's birthday, and we wanted to go eat somewhere that did not serve food out of a clown's a$$.  Selfish, I know.  We are admittedly terrible parents.

Anyway, after we has a delightful lunch at P.F. Chang's, we decided to do some shopping.  We were in a CITY, for goodness sake, and there were no children anywhere to be seen.  So, logically, we decided to go to Toys R Us.

It's ever so much more fun without the kids.

So, we're shopping along, minding our own business, looking for an awesome Iron Man helmet for zj, when we hear a woman's voice becoming increasingly louder and more agitated.

She walked to the end of the aisle we were in, stopped, and  proceeded to have the following conversation.

I have re-created it to the best of my ability.  Unfortunately, she did not have the phone on speaker, so I couldn't hear the responses.  Also, I was kind of drunk (Kirin on tap...  mmmmmm), so I might not remember everything exactly.

But this is pretty close.

Woman: Well, that's because it all used to be about you.  But it ain't about you anymore.  You left, and left me with all the kids and now it's about me.
Pause for response from ex.
But it ain't like you come around anymore.

Pause for response from ex.

Well, you left, and you left me with the kids, and you ain't in our lives every day no more.  You just call when you feel like it and come by when you feel like it, and what I'm trying to tell you is that IT AIN'T ABOUT YOU NO MORE, IT'S ABOUT ME.

Pause for response from ex.

I'm doing just fine, and you just call up whenever you feel like it and you get me all upset.  When I call you, you don't answer.  So what I'm trying to tell you is it ain't about you no more.

Pause for response from ex.

Like last week when you were supposed to have the kids and you didn't call and you didn't show up.  They were upset all day and so I just told them, it ain't about you no more.  It's about us - the kids and me. Not you.

Pause for response from ex.

That's because it ain't about you.  

Pause for response from ex.

Now you call me and get me all upset, and I ain't gonna let you keep doing that.  Because IT AIN'T ABOUT YOU NO MORE!

Phone slams shut, gets tossed into purse, and woman stalks off in the direction of Bratz dolls.  Go figure.

Apparently, eating cake is really hard work.

Superhero Tuesday.

Here is cj in the role of Captain America.  You can tell from the strategically placed star that he is clearly and Agent of SHIELD.  

"Homemade" Stromboli that's so easy you are going to be pissed that you didn't think of it first.

It is altogether possible that I stole this recipe from Rachel Ray.  I can't really remember because I drink so much I have so many delicious recipes.  Whatever.  Even if it was hers, it's not like she really NEEDS it, right?

WHAT YOU NEED:

Cornmeal

Pepperoni, or browned sausage, or mushrooms, or onions, or green peppers, or whatever you like on your pizza

A tube of pizza dough

Shredded Italian cheese

A jar of prepared spaghetti sauce.  I buy Ragu, because it's cheap.

Parmesan cheese, you know, in a can.

Crushed red pepper flakes

Garlic powder

Sesame seeds

Italian seasoning blend

Olive oil

WHAT YOU DO:

Preheat your oven to 400.

Sprinkle a couple teaspoons of cornmeal onto a large flat surface.  My kitchen counter works well for this, but if you want to use the hood of your car, I'm not going to care.  Really.

Open your tube of dough and spread it out evenly on the cornmeal.

Top the dough with your favorite pizza toppings, then sprinkle about a cup of the shredded cheese over the top of that.

Now, here comes the fun part.  

Starting on the longer side, slowly roll the dough over the fillings and cheese, and keep going, until you get it all rolled up into a big tube sort of snake looking deal.  Pinch the edges of the dough at the seam together, and then lay in seam side down onto a flat cookie sheet or baking dish.

Drizzle the whole thing with olive oil.

Mix Parmesan (2 tablespoons), red pepper flakes (a shake or two, depending on how spicy you like it), garlic powder (1/2 a teaspoon) , sesame seeds (a tablespoon) and italian seasoning (a teaspoon), then sprinkle the mixture over the olive-oil covered dough.  press it into the dough on top, just a little bit.  

Bake for 15 minutes.

After taking it out of the oven, let it sit for a couple minutes, then slice and serve with sauce on the side.

Enjoy!

  

Chocolate covered evil.

I had the coolest gadget in the house, for about a minute.

Last week, I got a new cell phone.

I have had a cell phone since the days of the ginormous ones that were roughly the size of a loaf of bread.  However, I have never, ever paid more than $20 for one.  I usually take the "free with contract" one.  You know, the really crappy one with bad reception and the loose pieces that fall off after a week or two?  Yeah, that's my phone.  Or at least it always had been.

But in yet another effort to cut expenses in the J household, we recently dropped our home phone line, making our cell phones our ONLY phones.  I know people are doing this, but it was sort of scary to think that the boys would grow up and would probably never remember that phones used to have to be - GASP! - plugged into the wall to work.  If they do remember it, it will be fuzzy and retro, sort of like my recollection of 8-track tapes.

Anyway, my old $0.99 cell phone wasn't going to cut it for Primary Phone Status.

I did a bunch of research (read: Googled it) and came to some conclusions.

1.  I didn't want a smart phone, because I didn't want to pay extra every month for the data plan; and
2. I wanted a cool phone.

I picked out a phone I liked from my provider's website, but it was around $80.  Since the whole point of this endeavor was to cut costs, that seemed steep to me.

So I showed it to RJ in passing, and mentioned that I liked it, but that I thought it was a bit pricey.

Of course, he took me into the cell phone company the next week and we left with it.

I LOVE it.

Of course, I don't really know how to use it very well, and have missed several important calls.  It took me three days to figure out how to check my voicemail, and the whole texting sideways with my thumbs has made me look sort of like a foolish 14 year old.  Whatever.  It's cool.

RJ told me over and over and over that he was fine keeping his old phone.  It did everything he needed.  Sure, it wasn't fancy, but it didn't need to be.  It was a phone, and it could make calls.

Two days later, he came home with this:

Yet another example in how different the boys in my house are from each other.

This is cj, having a wild ride on the swing.

This is zj, screaming "Higher! Higher!"

Saturday, in the park. Ok, really it was Sunday, but that just isn't as catchy sounding.

No ducks were harmed in the making of this video.

I deleted the video that showed all the duck-harming.

Oh, and the weird groaning in the background? That's cj. I promise.

Nap time isn't really worth it. I promise.

I'm not much of a napper.

If you take out the 18 months I was pregnant (not all at once, thank Jesus), I have probably only taken 20 or so daytime naps in my adult life.

I hear other grownups talk about naps like they are grumpy toddlers in need of a blankie, but it has always seemed like a waste of daylight to sleep when it's not dark.  It's my inner farm girl coming out, I guess.

However, one day last week, I was scheduled to close at work.  I was tired already.  I didn't feel well.  A short nap seemed to be in order.

The preparation was immense.  First, I had to get cj fed, changed and asleep.  Done.

Next, I had to try to prepare zj.

Me:  Zackie, Mama is going to take a nap.  Can you watch tv for a little while?
ZJ:  Mama, it isn't nap time.  It isn't dark yet.  I think we should call Daddy and ask him.
Me:  It's ok baby.  Daddy doesn't care.
ZJ:  Mama, last night I dreamed about a snake and a chair and a superhero and a cape and my bedroom and a couch and my tv and a llama and some ice cream.
Me:  Nobody really cares, sweetheart.  Mama wants to take a nap, ok?
ZJ: Why do you sleep all the time, Mama?  You sleeped last night, and you sleeped yesterday, too.
Me:  Well, zj. We need sleep to make us healthy and happy.
ZJ:  Mama, can I have some lunch?
Me:  It's 10 o'clock in the morning.
ZJ:  Well, I'm hungry.
Me:  Ok, here are some goldfish.  Mama is going to lay down on the couch for a little while, ok?
ZJ:  Why, Mama?  Can you read me a story?
Me:  Baby, Mama is going to go to sleep.
ZJ:  Can we play X-Men, Mama?
Me:  How about you lay beside me and I'll turn X-Men on tv, ok?
ZJ:  No, I don't think so.
Me: Ok, how about Max & Ruby?  Max & Ruby's on.  You can lay beside me and watch that, ok?
ZJ: No, I don't want to lay down.  Mama, is it time for you to go to work yet?
Me: No, I don't have to leave for a few hours.  Hey, how about a nap?
ZJ: Mama, are you going to drop me off and is Daddy going to pick me up?
Me: Yes, baby.  Mama will drop you off and Daddy will pick you up tonight.
ZJ: Why?
Me: Well, because I have to go to work, and Daddy will be off work before I am.  So he'll pick you up.  Let's lay down here, ok?
ZJ:  Well, Daddy didn't pick me up yesterday.  You picked me up yesterday.
Me: Yes, but that was yesterday.  Hey how about we go upstairs and take a nap in my bed?
ZJ: Mama, where's Cooper?
Me: Cooper's asleep.  Let's join him, ok?
ZJ: Mama, you won't fit in Cooper's bed.
Me: No, that's not what I meant.  Never mind that.  Let's lay down, ok?
ZJ: Mama, is it lunchtime yet?
Me: No, not yet.  Hey, how about you lay down beside me while I take a nap and you can look at one of your comic books?
ZJ: No, I don't think so.  Mama, is Daddy coming home soon?
Me: No, remember, Daddy will pick you up tonight.
ZJ:  Where are we going?
Me: Remember what we talked about?  Mama has to go to work.  I will drop you off, and Daddy will pick you up.
ZJ: Mama, why do you have to go to work?
Me: Well, I go to work so that we can have money to buy things and to pay for our house and our cars and our food...
ZJ: Well, you broke our big car some last week.  Remember?
Me: Yes, I remember.  I had an accident.  Ok, now let's lay down here on the couch.  Mama is tired and wants to take a nap before work.
ZJ: Well, I know where Daddy works.
Me: Yes, I know you do.  That's great.  Now come lay down, ok?
ZJ: And I know our address.  We live at 154 Hidden Court, Kentucky Vine Grove.
Me: Yes, that's right.  Hey, why don't you go down in the basement and play your Wolverine game?
ZJ: No, I don't want to.
Me: Hey, let's lay down together on the floor.  It will be fun.  Like we're camping.
ZJ: No, I don't want to.  Mama, can we call Granny now?
Me: No, we're not going to call Granny.  We are going to take a nap, remember?
ZJ: Well, I don't want to take a nap.  Mama, can we go to Chuck E. Cheese today?
Me: No, remember, I have to go to work in a little while, right after we take a nap.  Come here and lay down with me, ok?
ZJ: Mama, can you read me a story?
Me: Of course.  Go get the $^#* book, darling.

Superhero Tuesday.

There are many possible ways to arrange your superheroes.

Sometimes, they need to be lined up.

Other times, they may need to be placed into a very large pile.

Occasionally, a square is the correct formation.

This concludes our lesson.  

Thank you for your attention.

Are there any questions?