Death By Cupcake

Feeding a family this size is a big undertaking. We spend a small fortune on food. In this household we go through about 7 gallons a milk a week. We also power through an average of four loaves of bread, two dozen eggs, three boxes of cereal, and one jar of peanut butter. That’s just the basics.

Food is important. When we travel I have to carefully plan out meals and snacks so that no one is hungry. I don’t care so much if my family is a little hungry. I care that when they are hungry they are grumpy. All of them, including Dallas.

He’s probably the worst one. If he is hungry, watch out. He’s a monster. I don’t know how he made it through Ranger school. If I was in the class with him I probably would have tripped him on a march so that he broke a bone. That way I would not have had to deal with his hungry, grumpy self.

His sister Autumn gets grumpy-hungry too. She’s female though, so she’s smart enough to understand her faults and deal with them like a grown-up. She packs her own snacks.

I pack snacks for Dallas.

And my other kids.

I cook a lot. It’s fine, I like cooking. Cooking is one of the things that I can always do to help out friends. Have a baby? I’ll make you a meal. Surgery? Here comes a baked ziti. Potluck? I’ll make an entrée and a dessert. I can cook in my own house, no extra childcare needed. Done.

I have to do nice things, otherwise no one would put up with me.

Yesterday I made cupcakes for a meeting. I put them in the freezer overnight.

The YOU in this note refers to Dallas.

The kids know to ask, “Are these cupcakes for us?”

The answer would have been, “No, but I’ll bring you leftovers.”

Seriously, he would have eaten six. At least. They were really good cupcakes. And of course, he would have been STARVING. Kind of like how when he is sick he is DYING. He’s never just hungry, he’s on the verge of third world starvation.

If he had eaten them I would have jammed one all the way down his esophagus while he slept.

Death by cupcake. I can’t think of a better way for him to go.

Over It

Yeah, I’m kind of over this mom thing. Do you ever have those days?

I’m over it.

I am over arguing with 4-year-olds about getting dressed in the morning.

I am over listening to fighting and crying about clothes, seat positions, and games.

I am over being told by 4-year-olds that their toy “sucks.”

I am over telling teenagers not to use the word “sucks” in front of their little brothers.

I am over cleaning up spilled milk every damn day.

I am over the dirt that gets tracked into my house.

I am over being the only one to clean up that dirt.

I am over telling the teenage boy to clean up his room.

I am over dropping off.

I am over picking up.

I am over recipes that have no chance of working.

I am over not being able to enjoy a meal, even if it’s yucky.

I am over buying shoes every three weeks because they are lost, destroyed, no longer cool, or suddenly too small.

I am over rearranging the dishes because they were put away wrong.

I am over looking for all the lost/misplaced serving utensils.

I am over the never-ending pile of laundry.

I am over dog hair.

I am over baking cookies in the middle of the night.

I am over baking.

I am over the computer, the Wii, and the iPod Touch.

I am over having to tell children to go to bed.

I am over my husband working stupid hours.

Over it.

The only thing I am not over at this moment,  is my box of wine.

 

St. Pat’s Pics

As it turned out we did have a traditional, cabbage-inclusive holiday after all. I was afraid to post about it pre-party yesterday. When you have two sets of twins you never know when broken bones, vomit, hershey squirts, or just plain old tiredness will creep in and ruin your plans.

We went to our friends house for an Irish feast. My children mostly behaved. Jackson spent some time in the corner after refusing to apologize for acting like a 4-year-old. Eventually he did it, but I am pretty sure his mouth was saying “I’m sorry” but his brain was saying “I hate you Mom.”

The spread, corned beef and cabbage (2 ways baked & boiled)

Alaska style sourdough Irish soda bread

Iron Chef Eric

My (1st) helping

My contribution. I threatened to bring poop in a bowl, but settled on these governor bars. The recipe can be found at Pennies on a Platter, which is my favorite food blog.

Thanks Tamara & Eric for a great night. Sorry about Jackson…I could say he was tired or having a rough day, but it would be a lie.

Adventures In Banana Bread

I make excellent banana bread. I am not too proud to admit it and I’m willing to share the secret with you. Feels pretty lucky doesn’t it?

When I was a kid my Dad used to freeze the bananas when they started to get ripe. At the time I thought he was crazy. However, a while back a friend posted pictures of her frozen bananas on Facebook and I decided to try it too. That’s the key to excellent banana bread, freezing them first.

These might look gross, but they are not nearly gross enough. If the skin is black, then you know that they are perfect.

When you are ready to make the bread, let them thaw out to room temperature and then peel them. I’ve tried to peel them when they were frozen/semi frozen and it makes my fingertips numb. Cut the tips off with kitchen sheers.

That looks a little alien. Don’t think about it. You want to use all of it, including the liquid. It is sweet, sticky deliciousness. Mash these and use them in your recipe.

Recipe:

It doesn’t matter. Use whatever banana bread recipe you like. I make the one that is in my old Betty Crocker cookbook. You can find it here. It calls for buttermilk, which is excellent. I use extra banana too. I think it calls for a cup and a half, I used this whole bowl.

I also double the vanilla. I pretty much always double the vanilla when I bake. I learned this from my cousin Cindy. She might have learned it from her mom, my Aunt Sylvia who is the best cook ever.

Today I made muffins and a loaf.

They were delicious. The twinkies loved them. I left the bread and muffins to cool while I took a shower. When I came out, I discovered this:

Awesome. A 4-year-old handful out of the banana bread.

That lead to this:

Standing in the corner until someone copped to it. Eventually Jackson admitted he was the culprit. He also stole another muffin, took one bite out of it and hid it in a treat bag in the cabinet.

When I found it, I ate it.