A routine is slowly emerging from the chaos...

There are many wonderful things about this house.

It's quiet. Not the "I hear every noise in the house kind of quiet" but the "I'm safe here" kind of quiet.

MissAngelPreschooler ADORES her purple room. She even goes upstairs ON HER OWN to nap in the afternoon. No bribery or nap warden required. At the old house, naps involved me standing outside her room trying to get a work out in the eight foot square hallway that also contained a dresser, a shoe rack that wouldn't fit any where else, a brass coat rack, a large quantity of toys, and a shelving system that was rigged in a vain attempt to give MissAngelPreteen a sense of normalcy. I spent the afternoons shouting "go to sleep!" while tripping on mass quantities of crap.

It was lovely.

The space here is nice.

The extra bathrooms is wonderful. I don't even mind that we have to do a potty tour twelve times a day. Seriously, I've even seen the child pee in the downstairs toilet, only to announce that she was going to poo in the upstairs toilet. All I've got to say is, the kids got serious control.

The washer and dryer are heaven. Sheer heaven.

And I've been cooking. So much cooking.

We've also had company, for the first time in four years. I even had coffee at the table with my mother.

Yeah, that was awkward. But I got to see my beautiful little sister, which made up for it.

Still, there is a mountain of boxes to my right. A pile of crap the size of Mt. Rushmore in my garage. A living room, hallway, two bathrooms, and a front bedroom. that needs to be painted. My baby is still half naked, and we really should rename the dog Sybil. A mountain of laundry in my basement.

Life is good. Now I have to go clean up from last night's dinner.

I'm beginning to wonder if I need a second blog...for the things I should never say.

Have you ever had that moment?

The moment where you realize that if you tell a person your exact opinion of what they are doing at the present time they will never speak to you again?

I have that moment at least twice a day.

Mr. Lovinangels is not cursed with the gift of tact. He spits out mostly what comes to mind, with little fear of repercussion. My kids are the same way.

I, on the other hand, spent my formative years the brunt of multiple verbal assaults, and having vowed never to be my mother, I edit my thoughts constantly. In a sense, it's a good thing. I've learned first and foremost to be kind. Is it good? Possibly. I'm sure on most days.

When it involves my child's jackass sperm donor blowing her off again? One of these days I should probably use the profanities that are floating around stinging in my head like nasty little bees. At least, he showed up this weekend, for once. Now, I'm cursed with the aftermath. She came home mad. Again.

Again, he picked her up and spent zero time with her while fixing cars and drinking beer. Yup, she's mad.

On the plus side, I know she views me as a "safe" person.

22 must have been a really drunk year for me. What the heck was I thinking? I should have run the moment I found out I was pregnant.

No, I did the right thing. She gets to know his family, and they're great. He sucks. I'm sorry, baby.

One day, I will learn to speak up when I'm mad. I promise. For now, I will just be quiet.

It's better for everyone.

Box mixes: The enemy of frugal cooks every where

I remember the first time I ever cooked.

Ever.

My mother had made her famous meltaway meat. Of this, I still quiver in fear. The lumpy, tasteless mass of protein quivered like jello, the texture resembled canned dog food. I'm not entirely sure what she did to it that made it taste so...tasteless, but I do know it often involved me scrubbing out the crockpot for sometimes days on end, only to have her repeat the mess the moment I had managed to chip the remains from the walls of her ceramic petri dish, I mean, crockpot. Ugh.

My moment...she had come down with a "migraine" and needed to lay down. She needed me to "finish off dinner."

I was happier than a pig in, well, you know.

Laying on the counter, a packet of lipton alfredo noodles.

I put on my serious face. This was the big leagues. The moment that everyone tasted MY noodles. Oh, I could hardly wait.

I read the directions, then reread them. I followed them EXACTLY. Measuring the margarine, milk, and water as though my life depended on it.

Did you see my mistake? Because to this day, I don't. I followed the directions on the package, only to have my mother have a panic attack because I used margarine. Evidently, it was optional, (in those days, that was NOT printed on the directions.) and EXPENSIVE

As a (much) older cook, I wonder why we even had those packets. Even on sale they are ridiculously priced for what they are. A little bullion, a couple of seasonings, a four hundred percent mark up. It's scary what people will pay good money for.

On one of my favorite sites there is a certain amount of devotion to a certain meal product hawked by a four fingered hand. There are whole threads devoted to a favorite flavor...and again, I wonder why. Especially when I see "Italian Shells" ranks around the most popular flavors.

Seriously?

Ok, besides the ick factor, (have you READ the ingredients) and the price factor, (upwards of two dollars for barely three portions), Italian Shells? The easiest thing on the the planet, and, possibly the cheapest.

Check out my remake:

pasta
1 lb ground beef or sausage
1/2 lb whole wheat short pasta
2 C premade pasta sauce, or season a 16 oz can of tomato puree to taste.
2 C water

Brown beef or sausage and drain. Add sauce and water, bring to a boil, add the pasta. Return to a boil, simmering for 7 minutes. Do not cover. Let stand five minutes.

At this point, I usually sprinkle some shredded cheese on it and call it a day. However, I have the feeling the cheese sauce makes it for some people, so...

take 1/2 C milk and blend with 1 tsp cornstarch until smooth. Add 1/2 teaspoon garlic, bring to a boil. Stir in two to four tablespoons of parmesan cheese. Taste and add salt and pepper as desired. Drizzle over pasta.

Serve as you would your favorite box mix. Gloat in the fact that it cost less than half the price. Yay, YOU!

Do you have a favorite box mix you'd like a cheaper alternative to? Let me know in the comments!

My Ugly Green Monster rears it's head, does yours?

Well, I'm off to the post office this morning, on the way to visit my dad. I sold not one, but two items on ebay this week, with at least two more to sell today. I'm up... ten bucks. It seems a little effort heavy, for only ten dollars, since I do have to run to the post office to ship, and I can't stop grabbing the computer to see how my auctions are doing. It's like waiting for water to boil. Ugh. Still, ladies who have been doing this longer than I have tell me the initial fascination fades. I hope so.

For father's day, MissAngelBaby took her first steps in front of her great-grandpa. And only her great grandpa. She did it multilple times in front of him, but I don't have an exact count, because the stubborn little thing waited till I turned around EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Still, if I was going to miss the event, I couldn't be happier that he got to see it.

This morning Mr. Lovinangels told me he has a friend who has a baby MissAngelBaby's age, that took five steps the other day. "He's ahead of her?"I practically shouted. My husband gave me an odd look. "Other people have smart babies, too, you know," he laughed at me.

Yes, but my baby is supposed to be the smartest and the best.

Do you ever fall into this trap? Pushing your child towards a milestone simply because her peers have reached it? I thought I was above such nonsense, but there it is. My gut reaction is, my baby should be first. Wow. I've got some soul searching to do. I should just be grateful my kids are progressing normally, that God has given me three healthy, beautiful girls.

Oh, well, perfection as a mother has not been achieved by anyone to date. I'll work on it.

In the meantime, crawling over stacks of boxes is getting to be quite an adventure. And I'm up ten bucks in my goal to make money, bringing it to -140. Yay me!