All posts in category Teenagers

The Birthday Meat Feast Part 2: Chicky’s Fingers

This isn't a restaurant

Generally, my philosophy.  But, I have 20 nieces and nephews, 2/3 of them under the age of 12.  Several of them were descending upon us to help ring in the age of the driver.  And, to them, Chili made 2 ways is not the dinner of champions.  I needed another choice of vittles to feed them at The Studly 16th.

I thought about what the Birthday Boy used to eat for the two years he was stuck on just fruits and vegetables until he ingested a plastic bag and we found out he had PICA.  The only protein we could get into him, besides Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, was Chicken nuggets/fingers.  (The story of the Dinosaur burgers and how we got him to eat ground meat is for another post). So, based on past success with tiny people, I settled on  Chicky’s Fingers

Not to be conceited, but these poultry digits are really good.  The childrens were beating on each other for them (well, not really, but that’s what it sounded like. I could swear, as my kids get older, my tolerance for small humans gets lesser.)

What You need:

Chicken breasts, boneless, cut into 2-3″ strips.  However many you need.  Or even way more.

In a big bowl, toss the chicken strips with salt and pepper and flour to lightly dust.

Scramble up 3 eggs (per 5 chicken breasts) in a bowl and add about 1/4 cup milk. Stir.

Shake excess flour of chicken, dip in egg, and then dip in fancy shmancy breadcrumbs. These ones are the best because they have dehydrated potato flakes in them, as well as I’m not sure what else but they’re fabulous.

The absolute best breadcrumbs

I get them from a kosher grocery store near me, but you can use a combination of italian breadcrumbs mixed with Panko crumbs.

Heat up about 1″ of vegetable oil in a large skillet and par-fry the chicken fingers until golden on each side.

The assembly line

Lay in a single layer on a parchment covered cookie sheet.  Bake for 15 -20 minutes at 375 degrees.

Chicky's Fingers

The best part?  They freeze great! (If you’re lucky and there’s a few left….)

Dessert was Dairy Queen Ice Cream cake, Red Velvet cupcakes from Costco, and…

Cheater Brownies

Purchase a box of Ghirardelli Brownie mix from Costco

Taste like home made (or probably better)

Follow the directions.  Add sprinkles on top before baking to make it look like they’re home made.  (if you want to be very fancy, mix a whole bunch of sprinkles together. Well, that’s the party line, but really, I had all kinds of sprinkles in little tiny bags and my husband mixed them up in a container.  He’s smart, I think.)

Once, my sister mixed mashed bananas into these and they were even better than delicious.  I think the word for that is scrumptious.

Bake, cut, serve.

Let's just pretend I made these

Next stop, We’ve got an 18th birthday coming up.  And, she likes pasta.  Oh, the possibilities….

3 Comments
by chickymara on February 2, 2012  •  Permalink
Posted in Cookery, Family, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on February 2, 2012

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2012/02/02/the-birthday-meat-feast-part-2-chickys-fingers/

The Valium Chronicles: The Hairy Movember

Movember Moustache Styles (image source: http://www.bear-hairy-men.com

My son, Bubba, is 15.  He has a interesting sense of humour (I can’t imagine where he gets it from).  We just spent some quality time together at the hospital having his hand looked at.  He injured it playing football.  He’s about 1/2 the size (but with double the heart) of the other players, so it was inevitable that he’d get hurt.  He’s already had a concussion this year, which I wasn’t happy about due to his fancy brains being jiggled up. He’s upset now, because he can’t play any sports AT ALL for at least four weeks.  He asked so many questions at the hospital, several of which included the lovely ‘But Why?’ that I asked him if he was five or 15.  To my question he replied, ‘But WHY can’t I swim?’  From that last question, I assumed he was being five.

After the hospital, I took him out for a burger.  As we were sitting there, I noticed that his peach fuzz was starting to look like a hairy caterpillar.

‘Bubs, you need to shave.’

‘Its November. I’m doing Movember.’

‘Son, I have to break it to you.  You are not nearly hairy enough to do Movember.  Most likely you’d require Mo-sixmonthser. Possibly even Mo-fulleryearember’

‘I have to do Movember. I made a commitment.’

‘What do you mean you made a commitment?’

‘I’m on the website. I have $1.25 in sponsors.  Matan (his friend) gave me 5 Cents.’

‘Well, how generous of Matan.  Where did the other $1.20 come from?’

He grinned at me.

‘So, you sponsored yourself $1.20?  To grow a moustache?’

‘Well, I already have two supporters. I’m locked in.’

‘Who are your supporters?  Yourself and Matan?  You can’t support yourself.’

‘Well, I should get community service for school for doing Movember. Like a month’s worth. Its hard work growing this moustache.  And its for charity.’

‘You want a months worth of community service for attempting to grow a straggly, hairy caterpillar on your top lip, all the while raising $1.25?’

His grin got wider.  And more mischievous.  I realized, too late, that he was messing with me.

‘You are a pain in my ass, my son.’

‘Well, when I was born, I for sure pained your ass.’

‘You weren’t a pain in my ASS when you were being born.  You were a pain somewhere else.’

‘I’m sure your whole body hurt.’

‘Not really.  Not my whole body.  And not my ass.’  He was pushing it, so therefore, so would I.

‘Your ass probably hurt while you were birthing me.  I’m sure of it.’

I gave up.  Because it probably did.  But, that boy is SHAVING!

And in other news, my Noshember is over because Big J is home from his business trip.   Now, shaving my legs…THAT’S A PAIN IN MY ASS.

18 Comments
by chickymara on November 4, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Humour, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on November 4, 2011

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2011/11/04/the-valium-chronicles-the-hairy-movember/

The Valium Chronicles: Going-Out Advice to My Teenager

Girls Gone Wild.

My daughter left yesterday for her first trip away with friends.  They took the train to Montreal to ‘have fun’ (as she put it).  Although she is 17, and the drinking age in Montreal is 18, I can clearly imagine what the ‘fun’ will entail.  Before you judge me, I don’t condone any types of illegal activity or teenage drinking. But, realize that I’m not stupid, and more importantly, I need my girl to know that I’m not stupid.  It’s better that she doesn’t lie to me, and understand perfectly well that I’m aware of what she and her friends are doing, and be told this from HER mouth, rather than see get a big surprise when I see the evidence on Facebook. This is how I keep her SAFE. Also, I’d have to back track and freak out on her afterwards.  That would completely go into the not fun area of parenting.

Its hard to imagine your babies growing up.  But they do.  And they go to Montreal, or wherever, and to University Hallowe’en parties, and wear Barbie costumes and makeup, and smile at older boys. They have to. It’s life.  But life is more complicated now. Teenagers have too many choices, too many wrong paths to take.

When I was a teenager, my parents’ advice consisted of:

-Don’t be stupid

-Be home by 12 or else

I’m not kidding. That was it.  There were no cell phones to reach me with, and they figured they’d raised me right, and / or they didn’t think there was a whole lot of trouble to be gotten into.  Truth was, I was a bit of a goody two shoes, and although there was probably trouble to be found, mostly I stayed out of it (or so goes the party line.)

Obviously, the world is different these days.  Not only do teenagers party more, drink more, and think they’re smarter, they are so connected that word of any excitement gets around faster than Superman can change in his phone booth (what’s a phone booth, you ask?  Forget it you’re too young to be reading this)

Plus, there’s a whole new world of drugs out there much more extensive than the ubiquitous pot that was readily available ‘in my day’.   According towww.drugfreeworld.com, these are the street names for ecstasy alone.

Ecstasy street names

OBVIOUSLY, the best advice is ‘Don’t Drink at all.’  (The advice of  ‘Don’t Do Drugs. You Could Die.’ is non-negotiable, and actually agreed upon by both of us). But, while her following the drinking advice would be highly desirable, the probability of it being the actuality is not that…umm..probable.  So,because its ultimately important to me, as her parent, to to keep her safe,  I talk to my kid before she goes out into the world as an adult in a frank and non-judgemental way.

This is the advice I gave to her  (along with the usual ‘You’d better answer my text messages within 3 minutes or I’m hunting you down.’ She calls this stalking-I don’t know why):

  • Don’t leave your drink unattended. EVER EVER EVER EVER
  • Don’t invite anybody you meet back to your hotel room. They will text it out and you’ll have a trashed hotel and be out on the street, before you can blink. Or, they’ll be psychokillers, and then..(well, unimaginable).
  • Don’t get drunk and walk around the street tippling over and barfing into an alley.  Not to mention dangerous, its really not classy at all.Don’t get drunk and act stupid, more specifically, don’t get so drunk that you don’t know you’re so drunk and acting stupid.
  • Don’t wear a skirt so short you can see your panties (she assured me, by the way, that she was wearing booty shorts under her Barbie costume).
  • Don’t post ‘Girls Gone Wild’ pictures on your Facebook, particularly in a live play by play manner.
  • Those boys are ‘older’ (I didn’t elaborate, but she knew what I meant).
  • If you sense trouble, get out. No fun is worth trouble.
  • Use your brains. Don’t take drugs. Eat your vegetables. Act like I raised you.

And off she went with her little suitcase, some cash, and probably a mickey hidden in her purse.  And I cried, just a little.

2 Comments
by chickymara on October 29, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Life Lessons, Teenagers, The Valium Chronicles
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Posted by chickymara on October 29, 2011

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2011/10/29/the-valium-chronicles-going-out-advice-to-my-teenager/

Wordless Wednesday: Graduation

Yesterday I wrote a post about time passing that was exceedingly sappy.  And then I got this text from my daughter:

My baby is growing up

So, do you blame me for writing sappy time passing posts now?

4 Comments
by chickymara on October 26, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Humour, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on October 26, 2011

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2011/10/26/wordless-wednesday-graduation/

Post Election Debrief: Our Way

Canadian Politics (source: http://www.netnewsledger.com

Disclaimer:  This blog is in no way a political statement or intended to offend anyone’s politics or inspire discussion about my politics.  I don’t like politics, but I do like talking to my family, especially when fun conversations like this happen.

So, we’re sitting at dinner tonight, and the topic turns to the recent Ontario election. (That’s in Canada, if you’re not that good at geography.)

Big J:  So can you believe that your mother voted Liberal? That was really dumb-their policies are bad for big business.

Bubba:  Can you imagine if the PCs lost by ONE vote?  Mom, then their loss would’ve been all your fault.

Me:  Give me a break. They would never lose by one vote. And I can vote for whoever I want.  That’s the beauty of democracy.

Big J: You’re a traitor against big business.  I’ll never forgive you.

Bubba: What does it matter?  Anyways, we should get rid of  big business.  Why can’t everyone just have a small businesses?  Then, it would be more fair.

Big J: Because the economy is run on big business. Its all on your mother that the PC party lost.

Me:  Oh yeah. My one vote made all the difference.  Plus, how do you even know who I voted for. I didn’t tell you.  Can you believe that next election Diva will be old enough to vote?

Diva:  When I can vote, I’m voting NDP.

Big J:  If you do that, I’ll have to kill you  (I roll my eyes.  Little J hasn’t said a word as there’s steak.)

Bubba:  (grinning gleefully) You can’t do that. It’s illegal!

Big J: What?  Kill someone?

Bubba:  No, tell them how to vote.

Diva:  Little J, you’re so good looking. (I feel her forehead)

Diva: That’s funny. You felt my forehead to see if I have a fever because I said something nice. J, can you punch me in the nose so I can get a nose job, and have a nice nose like yours?

Little J:  (with a mouthful of steak, but finally piping up)  We should just all be communist.

Me:  Don’t worry, his nose will grow, he’s just not a pubert yet.  Communism never works.  Its turns into a dictatorship.  And the dictator gets rich and the rest of the people are poor and have to do all the work.

Little J:  But it could work, if its done properly.  Then everyone would be equal and nobody would have more than anyone else.

Bubba:  But, nobody wants to do the crap jobs like cleaning the toilets and stuff.  Then, someone has to start telling them to do it. Then they get into power. And then they get all the good stuff and the food. See, it doesn’t work.

Diva:   Are you sure you won’t punch me in the nose?

Me:  I was going for a communist regime in this house, but I can’t seem to maintain my dictatorship.

Everyone ignores that.

Big J:  If you get plastic surgery after J punches you in the nose, maybe we can get a two-fer.

Diva:  Why?  I don’t want a boob job!

Big J:  No that’s not what I meant!  I was thinking maybe your  brother wants  a penis enlargement.  We can call him Long Ben Dong.  Hello Mr Dong.

Bubba:  (stares at his father, unblinkingly)

Me:  The nonsense that comes out of your mouth, dear.

Big J: (grinning)  Boobies!!

Me:  You people are absolutely insane.

Diva:  Can we go to Buffalo? I’m dying for Cheesecake.

And so it goes…What do you talk about at the dinner table?

6 Comments
by chickymara on October 7, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Humour, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on October 7, 2011

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2011/10/07/post-election-debrief-our-way/

The Valium Chronicles: What Happened to Privacy or Personal Space?

Stay out of my bathroom source: http://www.zazzle.com

Twice on Twitter the conversation has turned to the toilet and privacy. More specifically the last time any of the moms went to the bathroom by ourselves without interruption.  The general consensus was that once you have kids, you never ever ever go to the toilet without company.  I’ve breastfed on the toilet, snuggled on the toilet, signed permission forms on the toilet, had serious conversations on the toilet, and grounded a teen on the toilet.

From my vast experience of 17 years as a mom, I’ve determined that when I became a mother, I gave up any possession of my body, personal space,  food, or belongings.  It started during preconception, when discussions of ovulation, cervical mucus,and the condition of my uterus became fair game. The loss of privacy or personal space steamrolled from there.

At the hospital:  I gave birth to my first child in a teaching hospital.  After the 10th student came in just ‘to have a look’, I declared my ‘lady parts’ off limits. I believe my exact words were, ‘If one more person tries to look at my vagina I’m going to stick a giant needle in their back all the while telling them to hold still while they’re having a contraction.  Then I’m going to f*^%en kill them.’  Once I had my girl, about 300 different nurses felt the need to manhandle my breasts and nipples in an effort to teach me to breast feed.

 Toddlers:  There’s nothing like a screaming tantrum in a store to bring out the ‘best of’ childrearing from  bystanders.  I’ve had folks tell me, in extreme detail, how I should handle my children’s tantrums, how their diet is affecting their behaviour, or even worse, glare at me and tsk tsk. Have they never heard of the expression MYOB?  Also seemingly free game to toddlers is your meals.  Nothing you’ve prepared for your child to eat can look as appetizing as what’s on your plate.  While its endearing for your wee one to scramble onto your lap during dinner, THAT’S MY FORK, KID!  My third child also had a particularly appropriate habit of sticking his hand down my shirt to cop a feel at the most inopportune moments, such as anytime we were in public.

Kids:  I knew my son was growing up when I took him into a family washroom at Zellers and while I was hovering over the toilet to avoid germs, I looked at him and he was crouched down and peering up to see exactly where the pee came from.  That was a special moment in our relationship which I’m sure I’ll hear about more in a therapy session one day.

Tweens and Teens:  It was a lovely day the first time my son (now 15) walked into my room while I was changing, exclaimed ‘Ewwww! Disgusting!’ and ran out.  I screamed after him, ‘Its MY room!  If you don’t want to see my boobies, which breastfed you, then knock before you enter.’  Also a potential topic for therapy, it took him two years before he started barging into my bathroom again.

Apparently I don’t actually own any of belongings such as clothing, makeup, shoes, or beauty accessories. Since my daughter started wearing the same size tops and shoes as me, it seems to be a situation of ‘mi casa es su casa’.  If I want to use anything that belongs to me, all I have to do is go into her room. The exception is if was actually purchased for her. Then, its hers.  And I’m not to touch it.   By the way, its heartwarming to see her friends walking out of the house wearing my clothing. I KNEW that’s why I bought those items! (I’m being facetious, in case you were wondering)

Don't touch my clothes! source: http://www.welcomemats.com

The final straw was this evening. I was undressing to take a shower and my daughter followed me into the bathroom chattering away about something that was extremely important to her.  I calmly said, ‘Please leave, I’m naked and I want to take a shower.’ Her answer, ‘Who cares?  I came out of you.’

My answer?  I CARE!!! GET OUT OF MY BATHROOM I WANT TO TAKE A SHOWER! WE DON’T LIVE IN A COMMUNE!’

Where have you seen your boundaries blur since you’ve had children?

1 Comment
by chickymara on October 4, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Humour, Kids, Life, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on October 4, 2011

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Parenting Against Bullying

My House is a No Bully Zone

Browbeat. Coerce. Terrorize. Tyrannize

Are these words of war? In a sense, yes. These are synonyms for bullying. And they are powerful words. Bullying has become pervasive in our society. From pushing and shoving to wars of words, to ganging up on the weak, to cyber threats and intimidation, these behaviours are disrupting the right to live a happy life.

I think we’ve all been touched in some way by bullying. Whether it was us as children, at work, in the PTA, or through our childrens’ experiences, the aggressive nature of bullying is terribly painful to experience and to watch.

According to Public Safety Canada (www.publicsafety.gc.ca):

  • roughly 6% of students4 aged 12 to 19, report bullying others on a weekly basis, 8% report that they are victims of bullying weekly, and 1% report that they are both victimized and bully others on a weekly basis (Volk, Craig, Boyce and King, 2003; Rivers and Smith, 1994; Haynie et. al., 2001).
  • Bullying surveys also indicate that many more boys than girls report being victims of bullying and almost all boys named male peers as the aggressors (Totten, Quigley and Morgan, 2004).
  • A recent self report survey on delinquency among Toronto youth indicates that 16% of youths in grades 7 to 9 had been bullied on more than 12 occasions during the year prior to the survey (Statistics Canada, 2007).
I’ve personally experienced bullying in my workplace, through my children, and my own experiences. It’s devastating- both emotionally and physically. What’s frustrating to watch is that much of the bullying in the schoolyard is directed towards children or teens with special needs. Most recently, in Pickering, Ontario, an 11 year old boy with Muscular Dystrophy committed suicide after being bullied on and off the school yard.
I see so many children who are seemingly lacking in compassion, kindness, and tolerance. Nobody is teaching them that we are all different. Modern parenting is so focused on worrying about self-esteem that many parents are afraid to admit to or challenge bad behaviour. How is a principal supposed to maintain order in a school when parents deny their children’s behaviour or take them to amusement parks when they’re suspended for bullying?.
Don’t get me wrong. I know parenting is tough. I do it everyday. Nobody wants to fight the fight everyday, or admit our child has a problem. But, we chose to have children, and we need to go into it with eyes wide open. We have to bring them up right. It’s our responsibility to set them up for success. If we don’t challenge their behaviour, then how will they learn to be better?
Join http://www.OurKids.net for a TwitterChat about kids and bullying .

Follow the hashtag #ourkids and #edchat to join in.

Date: October 5, 2011

Time: 8 pm est.
6 Comments
by chickymara on October 3, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Life Lessons, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on October 3, 2011

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My Teens Don’t Lie. I’m Not Lying.

Source: Copyright © 2011 Universal Press Syndicate

When I tell people that my teenagers don’t lie to me, they look at me incredulously, and ask which looney bin I escaped from. When I tell my sisters, who are younger than me, and therefore fancy themselves more hip than me, that my teenagers don’t lie to me, they roll their eyes.  And then they insist, rather effusively, that my teenagers are lying to me about not lying to me. Now, I know that I’m slightly naive, and if you read my blog, know that I’m quite proud of that.  However,I truly believe that my kids don’t lie to me.  I do feel slightly guilty about our ‘no need to lie’ environment, as quite possible one of the greatest joys of being a teen is getting away with a well-crafted lie. These are some of the things that I lied to my parents about as a teenager:

Smoking (I smoked from the age of 14)   When I accidentally handed my Stepfather a pack of cigarettes instead of my keys, I said, ‘I’m holding for a friend’. And he believed me.  They still don’t know I smoked. (Well I guess they do now)

Where I was sleeping:  Sometimes I lied about who’s house I was sleeping at just to see if they’d twig onto my deceit. Good times.

Illegal Substances: (that’s all I’m saying. It was the 80s for goodness sakes)

Skipping School: Who didn’t lie about skipping school? (By the way, you don’t see sex here because I didn’t lie about sex until I was in my 20s when it wasn’t any of their business anymore, but I lied anyways.  I was a prude, and proud of it.)

Unfortunately for my kids, because I told all of those teenage lies, it’s pretty hard to pull one over on me.  Having ‘been there done that’, I can spot Pinocchio’s nose growing from a mile away. But, that never really happens, because, as I said, my teenagers don’t lie to me.

How do I know that?

It’s possible one of them said, ‘Can you drive me to my friend’s house so I can drink?  I don’t want to drink and drive.’

It’s possible that they call me and said, ‘Can I skip class right now. There’s a substitute.’

It’s possible that they call me and ask if their friend that’s a boy but not their boyfriend can sleep over.

I know what a unicorn means in the teen girl world.  I know who has tried drugs, who’s on the pill, who’s parents are splitting up.  I know a lot.  I mostly know everyone’s secrets.  Sometimes I know more than I want.  Which sometimes makes me re-think my whole strategy. I might make it all sound all fun and all, being so in touch with what’s going on in the teen world, but really, this is how I keep my kids safe in these challenging times.

So, how do I get my kids not to lie to me?

  • Since they were little, we had a ‘no lying’ policy. As long as you told the truth, you didn’t get in trouble.  Everyone is allowed to screw up.
  • I don’t force them to lie.  I give careful consideration to out-of-the-box requests or new experiences. I explain my reasons for saying ‘no’ or my boundaries that accompany a ‘yes’.
  • I stalk them on Facebook. Teens are stupid. They post things online that interfere with lies. They know I’m ever present, so why bother.
  • We talk.  Actually, I ask questions, and they give me one word answers.  But, in the teen world, that’s talking.
  • I try not to judge.   I’m not condoning certain activities, but if they’re going to happen, I may as well know about it.
  • While I don’t facilitate illegal behaviours (such as purchasing alcohol for them or letting them drink in front of me), I don’t lecture when I hear about it afterwards.
Its such a slippery slope raising teenagers these days.  I’m not their friend, but I’m not their Master either (I am the Queen of  the World , though. Ask them, its true).  Its never too soon to learn that honesty is the best policy.  Plus, if you can’t tell your mother, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it anyways!
Comments are WELCOME!  I can take it!
25 Comments
by chickymara on October 2, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Humour, Life, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on October 2, 2011

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2011/10/02/my-teens-dont-lie/

The Valium Chronicles: Something’s Burning

I smell something burning

So, this morning I walked into my kitchen and while using a large knife to try and split open a frozen bagel, I smelled something curious.  It smelled like burning.  I was standing in front of my dishwasher, so the first thought that came to mind was ‘hot damn! It better not be the dishwasher!

I am SO not replacing that dishwasher!’  I’ve already replaced the dishwasher.  Further to my view that one should always buy  the best that one can afford, I’ve already replaced another expensive dishwasher with this expensive dishwasher.  According to my appliance repair man, who does not wear a nice uniform and smile a lot when NOT called (a la the Maytag repairman) , but rather smiles extensively when giving me a giant bill or bad news as to the demise of the machine in question, appliances these days are built to last 7-10 years. Anything more than that is gravy.  My other dishwasher, which was a Maytag, by the way, lasted 9 years. This one, a Kenmore Elite, is 4 years old. And actually, I wouldn’t mind
if it broke as I hate it, but I just don’t want to buy a new one.  It doesn’t have econo or short wash, and the cycle takes over an hour.  I bought it
because the salesperson at Sears told me no one really uses the short wash cycle and I believed him (even though I actually did use the short wash cycle in my dearly departed Maytag).  Buyers Beware:  of your own stupidity.

Anyhoo, back to the smell. The toaster wasn’t on. The oven wasn’t on. The coffee maker wasn’t on. The blender wasn’t on.  The only
appliance that was on was the dishwasher. I sniffed again, wriggling my nose like a drug-seeking dog, to see if I could identify the burning smell.
Although my olfactory capabilities aren’t stellar, I did determine it didn’t smell like burning electrical. That was a good thing.  The smell
was more like burning plastic or rubber. I know this smell because I often melt my utensils and other plastic accoutrements on my stove (by accident, obviously). I’ve also melted my Tupperware ‘marinator’ on the side of the barbeque, and multiple plastic-y kids cups, plates, bottles etc on the heating implement in the dishwasher, I knew that smell ( or so I thought).  I opened up the dishwasher with trepidation.

What did I find?  It was a giant wad of scrambled eggs being re-cooked on the heating element.

So then I had a conundrum:

a)Do I berate them for not scraping the plate off into the green bin before loading?

b)Hold a party that they put a plate in the dishwasher in the first place?

c) Try the eggs to see if they taste better that way.

What would you do?

 

4 Comments
by chickymara on August 26, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Humour, Kids, Teenagers
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Posted by chickymara on August 26, 2011

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2011/08/26/the-valium-chronicles-somethings-burning/

Procrastination vs. Slob-ery: I’ve Got Better Things to Do

 
 
Procrastination: Doing anything except what you should be doing. Commonly confused with laziness and slothfulness.

I am a huge procrastinator. Sometimes its because I’m very busy and when I feel pressured, I don’t do anything. Other times its because I’m just avoiding unpleasant or onerous tasks. These are some things I do when I’m procrastinating:

  1. Go on Twitter when I’m supposed to be writing my blog) (when I’m supposed to do just about anything)
  2. Hide envelopes that need to be actioned (from myself)
  3. Order To Do List notepads
  4. Make elaborate platters of snacks such as chips, tzatziki, cut up veggies
  5. Check Facebook, check BBM, check BBM status updates
  6. Read my own blog and snigger. Read someone else’s blog. Comment on blogs. Check my own blog stats.
  7. Look around a bit (I mean like the room. As in staring into space)
  8. Read entertainment news on Yahoo and possibly watch Samba Baby Dancing
  9. Enter contests on sites like www.yummymummyclub.ca
  10. Drink coffee with a pensive look my face as if I’m thinking about pulling the envelopes out of hiding
  11. Seriously prioritize about what HAS to get done today, and what can DEFINITELY wait until tomorrow
  12. Watch my dogs wrestle. Take pictures of my dogs wrestling. Talk to my dogs.  Talk to my nanny about my dogs.
  13. Ponder the boxes in my basement that haven’t been unpacked since I moved into my house 13 years ago
  14. Go out to get Starbucks
  15. Wander around in Winners or other retail outlets that requires extensive wandering

I completely admit to my procrastinatory ways. I have no shame, and eventually everything gets done. However, I completely take offence to those who colour code their closets confusing procrastination with slob-ery. I am not a slob. My mother used to say I’m a slob. I can’t imagine why, as my closet looks perfectly fine.

What’s wrong with my closet?

My closet looks like that because I have better things to do than hang up my clothes.  Imagine everything that I can get done (see list above) when I’m not worrying about making my closet look like this:

PS:  This is my daughter’s room.  Now, SHE is a slob.

3 Comments
by chickymara on April 25, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Life Lessons, Teenagers
Tagged , ,

Posted by chickymara on April 25, 2011

https://beniceorleavedotcom.wordpress.com/2011/04/25/procrastination-vs-slob-ery-ive-got-better-things-to-do/

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