A new life....

So for a long time I have been threatening to leave retail and move on to a more "normal" hours job.  Apparently my motto for the last few years has been, "This is my last retail Christmas." Yeah, like the last fifteen years there has been a pool to see when the declaration would come out of my mouth.  

In September I did just that, I got it together and started Real Estate School.  I submerged myself in the experience and got a job in an office while I took the state required class.  I was excited and nervous each step along the way.  Every test threw me into that crazy "WTF am I thinking I'm too old for school" panic until the results came back.  But I was excited that the end of my journey came to a successful end on friday when I passed the state boards.  I came into work on saturday and saw this:

Right there at the top was the pay off for all the hard work and hours of stress and studying.  So when you are looking for an agent, give me a call.

I really need to clean my desk more often...

My boy, the same one who turned thirteen yesterday drew this for me when he was in second grade.

Yeah, that's him protecting me from the evil giant robot monkeys.  God knows what I did to piss them off but I'm sure it was something horrible given the weapon power needed to protect me.  Lucky to have him.

Thirteen Years of The Boy.

Today the boy turns thirteen.  I'm not really sure what this means in the grand scheme of things other than, well, I'm the parent of a teenager.  Holy Crap.  Give me a second while I put my head between my knees and get myself together.  Phew, that was bad, I got a little woosy.

Now the the boy's favorite thing to do on his birthday is hear about the day he was born and after thirteen years of telling the story I think I have it down pat. No really it is, I swear.

The Boy was born at 10:28 in the am. after a traumatic three hours of labor.  Yeah, three hours.  That's it.  Four pushes.  Bam. There's your kid.

Now I know what you women are thinking.  THREE HOURS? That's it? Seriously? You hate me right now.  Just hold on a minute.  What I have left out of the story is the fact that I had to be induced twice.  TWICE. With one baby.  That's right.  The boy right from the beginning let us know who was in charge and clearly it wasn't me.  The best I can figure, The Boy didn't want a November 5th birthday.  Although it was interesting watching the nurse order the labor inducing drugs for a second time and arguing with the pharmacist that in fact I was still pregnant and he was welcome to come and double check.  He skipped the drive by and sent the drugs on up.

So The Boy was born in the morning and The Husband was all in all a good support system expect for that whole distracting the nurse with his chattering, but at least it meant I didn't have to listen it to him.  The Husband will tell you that I hurt his arm while I was in labor by squeezing it too hard.  I usually roll my eyes at him and point out that only he could turn my giving birth into a trauma for him.  By the way, if you're looking for a good hospital to give birth in I highly suggest Hilton Head Hospital.  It was like giving birth in resort and if you have a low tolerance for pain they are pretty loose with the drugs.

The Boy, from the beginning, was one of those kids who was going to be independent.  He didn't like to wear the little hat that the nurses like to put on the baby's head.  He'd somehow get it off within 30 minutes.  There was one nurse who rolled him bassinet and all, into my room and gave me hell because he wouldn't leave his hat on.  I gave the confused dog look and suggested a stapler.  I think that might have been the drugs talking though.  Maybe not.  So there he was in the room with me and no hat and I'm of course the worst mom in the world with the defiant one day old baby who won't wear a hat.  Great, can someone point the way to juvi?  I started crying, he started crying and I think poor Husband didn't know what to make of the scene when he returned.

Despite our rocky start The Boy has turned out pretty good so far.  His father has decided when he gets to 18 we need to write a book called, "How to not raise an Ax Murderer."  I figure that's getting to close to jinxing ourselves so I'll probably skip the idea.

Happy Birthday Boy!  Hope you have many more!  And that car I  promised you if you'd stop crying and leave your hat on, that was the drugs talking.

Birthday Cake

So the boy is turning 13 on Saturday and has requested a Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream and Vanilla Cake birthday cake.   No problem, your wish is my command.  After all, I have only one child so if I piss him off there will be no one to protect me from the bad old age home.  Of course I am secretly cursing the boy under my breath because an ice cream cake of course requires that extra step of ice cream.

So today we have the ice cream part of the prep going on.  I took half a gallon of Mint Chocolate chip ice cream and got it all melty and soft and then pressed it into a cake cake pan and suck it in the freezer where it will sit until tomorrow when phase two of the cake begins.  Let me just suggest that if you are going to do this type of a cake that you let the ice cream get super soft because the longer it takes you to press the ice cream into the cake mold the colder your fingers get.  Nothing like self induced frostbite to bring you back to your senses.

Off to figure out how to make mint flavored buttercream frosting.

Election Hang over....

I was up way too late and I much too tired today.  Hope you all have a great day.  Talk to you tomorrow!

Election Day....

So in case you hadn't heard, it's election day.  I voted.  Yep, voted, got my sticker, checked the pulse of the election judge because he looked old enough to have been in the Civil War and then headed off to work.  When all was said and done it took maybe ten minutes total and I think some of that has to do with the fact that my polling place switches every election without fail and no one is really sure where it is until sometime around two pm.  I was the 52 person to vote in my precinct, of course that was at 7:40 in the morning so I am hoping that the turn out gets better as the school day progresses.

I'm actually super psyched to watch election returns tonight.  I have a sick addiction to the constant guessing, pontificating and general broadcasters disappointment when a republican wins.  I can still remember when I was in seventh grade and it was a homework assignment to watch the returns.  It was 1980, Reagan, Carter and a third Party Candidate John Anderson.  Iranian Hostages were somewhere around 400 days of captivity.  Gas prices were at record highs and my parents were paying double digit interest on their home.  It was an interesting time in our history.  Russia was still our mortal enemy and there was an East and West Germany.  I was hooked and I still am.

I'm not one of those people who gets caught up in the whole if my guy doesn't win it's the end of the world.  I figure we've seen good and bad times from both parties and as a nation we continue on.  Our strength comes from our ability to adapt and change as needed.  For me that's what the election is really about.  Adaptation and Change.  So no matter what happens today, remember there's another election in two years and the ads should start sometime next week.

Peanut Butter Cups

So my whole trick or treating life was plagued by one thing.  Reese's Peanut Butter cups. Now I know what you are thinking, you are thinking.  Babe, you had sisters why the heck didn't you trade them away.  Oh no my friends, that was not the problem.  The problem was that I loved the Peanut Butter cups.  I mean really, two of my favorite things Peanut Butter and chocolate in one neat package.  How could you go wrong?  You can't.  Well sure if you have that pesky peanut allergy thing going on then yeah, you might want to stay away, but otherwise, really you can't go wrong.

And there in lies the rub.  Because I wasn't the only person in the house who felt that way.  That's right I had one of those parents who shared my love of the Reese's Peanut Butter cup.  My mother.  Again, I know what your thinking, toss the poor woman a bone and hand her peanut butter cup, after all she brought you into this world.  If only it were that easy.  You see my mother took the love of peanut butter cups to a new level.  A level of obsession that might scare an amateur.  We were sent out trick or treating with the the declaration, "If you get to choose, choose a peanut butter cup."  Really? No pressure there.

So as I was pondering my Christmas candy this year I thought I need a tribute to my childhood obsession and an easy way to lure my mother from the warmth of Texas to the bitter cold of Illinois for the festive holiday season.  So the result is the homemade peanut butter cup you see above.  Simple to make.  The hardest part is microwaving chocolate.  All you need is:

12 cup cake wrappers
1 bag chocolate chips milk chocolate or semi sweet
3/4 cup peanut butter
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/2 t. salt

Cut the wrappers down to half size and put into muffin tin.  Melt half the bag of chocolate chips for two minutes in the microwave, stirring after one minute.  Line the cupcake wrappers with a coating of chocolate making sure to coat the sides of the wrappers completely. Refrigerate until solid.  Mix peanut butter, powdered sugar and salt in a bowl and then spoon into the cups making sure you don't go over the edges of the chocolate.  Melt remaining chocolate chips  and spoon over the top of the peanut butter.  Refrigerate until solid and then dig in.

Enjoy and I'll let you know what mom thinks.