Homemade King Cake

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We love King Cake around here.

Every time we have king cake the boys mention to each other, “Mom got king cake at school every week when she was little.” I try to tell them it only occurred during Mardi Gras season but I can’t deter their thoughts of what a pitiful school experience they are having compared to me.

My mom sent us a Randazzo’s king cake for Derek’s birthday. It was devoured in 3 days. The only reason it wasn’t gone faster was because I wouldn’t let them have it for breakfast. Alex “got the baby” in the Randazzo king cake so he knew it was his turn to provide the next cake.

Occasionally, Alex would remind me it was his turn to buy the next king cake . Our neighborhood grocery store was the only place which came to mind for buying a king cake but frankly, they looked quite unappealing to me.

While browsing the magazine section one day in Lowe’s, I started flipping through a Sandra Lee magazine. Behind all of the Valentine treats she was featuring was a small section on Mardi Gras recipes. Gumbo, etouffee, and king cake were listed as well as dirty rice.

While reading I whispered, “Homemade king cake.” Alex was at my side in a second. “Oh, can we try? Can we make that tonight?” Seeing as it was already 4:45 I appeased him by buying the magazine and promising to make the dessert soon.

A few days later, after gathering the supplies, I decided the time was right to make the king cake. We were once again stuck in the house all day due to ice. I was desperate for an activity (and frankly, something sweet) so I told the boys we were celebrating Friday night dessert early because of the weather.

Here’s a picture of our ingredients: 3 cans of cinnamon rolls with icing (we didn’t use the extra one shown here), a plastic baby, and sprinkles. Our sprinkles are not the traditional gold, purple, and green since we used what was in the pantry.

ingredients for king cake1) First we buttered the baking sheet.

2) We unrolled the 3 cans and separated each cinnamon roll.

3) We then formed an oval shape with the rolls. Sandra Lee suggests using 5 cans of cinnamon rolls but I thought that would be a tad gluttonous for us.

4) We baked the cinnamon rolls / king cake at 375 degrees for 25 minutes.

5) We waited 15 minutes for it to cool (Next time we’ll try 5-10 minutes) , covered it with the cinnamon roll icing, and then covered with sprinkles.

The finished product!

Considering they each ate the king cake 3 times in 24 hours I’d say it was a big hit. (By the way, Andrew got the baby this time).

Men, Listen Up

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Men, listen up.

I’m about to tell you the way to a woman’s heart.

It’s not about the flowers.

It’s not about the chocolate (well, sometimes it is).

It’s not about the back rub (hmmm, that’s pretty good too).

It’s through this.

front of microwaveWhat? You say. A microwave. How can that be?

Consider this men –

It’s been months since the microwave has been cleaned.

Your wife placed a bowl of chili in there to heat up but instead it exploded.

She avoids the chili disaster by continuing to cook more food in there – for weeks.

Nothing is ever said about this situation.

It just goes on.

And then one day your wife comes home to this…

inside a clean microwaveCue the angels singing!

Flowers, chocolates, and back rubs have nothing on this.

This men, is the way to a woman’s heart.

Tap, Tap, Tap

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It’s a sad, sad day in our house.

It’s a day that I wasn’t ready for.

Let me back up.

It was nap time for Caroline.

Or so I thought.

After I placed Caroline in her crib she insisted she was not tired.

She disagreed with my plan by pounding on the wall and screaming.

I let her scream for 10 minutes, perfectly secure in my parenting abilities, knowing she needed rest.

And then the crying stopped.

I knew it. She’s exhausted and has finally given into sleep.

For a moment I sat on my bed with a bag of chips continued folding laundry.

But then I heard an unfamiliar “tap, tap, tap” sound coming from the baby monitor.

I walked over to the monitor and pressed the video button.

It took a moment for the image to come up.

While waiting, the “tap, tap, tap” sound continued.

What could that sound be? She had two baby dolls and a blanket with her in bed.

The monitor’s picture finally came up.

Clear as day was her crib.

But…Caroline was not in the crib!

I searched the screen desperately, telling myself the bars of the crib were some how obstructing my view of her body.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I need her to take naps still. I need her to be contained in a box with no hope of getting out.

I walked upstairs to her room and tried to peek under her door to no avail.

The carpet was blocking my view.

Surely she must have brought a toy into bed with her which I didn’t notice. Surely she must have the skinniest profile ever and is sitting in that crib tap, tap, tapping away.

I finally gathered enough mental strength and opened her door.

There she sat on the floor trying to put the pieces into a farm puzzle.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

After a moment she noticed me.

An enormous grin spread across her face.

She said, “hello.”

My face didn’t quite say that.

Needless to say we’re off to IKEA tonight to find a little bed for her.

I’m thinking of customizing it with straps for nap time.

What!

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We rarely eat fast food for dinner but I decided the other night was the exception. The boys had 3 activities we needed to be at, all around dinnertime. We drove through McDonald’s on the way to our 2nd and 3rd activities of the night. I decided Caroline and Andrew would eat once we arrived at Alex’s practice but he needed to eat in the car on the way.

Here was my order at the drive through:

I’d like a #13, a 20 piece chicken nugget (yes, all 3 kids polished this off with no leftovers), 3 milks, and 3 small fries.

After receiving the food,  I placed Alex’s food on a tray and handed it back to him.

Andrew immediately wanted to know, “When do Caroline and I get to eat?’

When we get to the lacrosse field I will give you your food.

“What’s my food?”

I got you some chicken nuggets, a small fry, and a milk.

“What!”

What do you mean what. I got you the food you asked for.

“What do you mean I got a small fry?”

I got you a small fry, Alex a small fry, and Caroline a small fry.

“What! That’s all I get for dinner?”

What are you talking about? You have this meal every time we come to McDonald’s. There will be more than enough food for you.

“Why do I only get one small french fry with my meal?”

Ohhhh. No, you get a small bag of fries. With many fries inside the bag.

“Good because I need more than just one fry. I thought you were only giving me one fry. I’m hungrier than that.”

A Message for Al Gore

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Dear Mr. Vice President,

I know the environment is important to you. I know this is your passion and such an important cause. I know you try and educate people on ways to keep our planet healthy. But now, Mr. President, I feel I must educate you.

As a mom, I do care about the environment. I do know we should all be working to improve our water systems, stop deforestation, and address the climate crisis. I do want wants best for my children and their future children.

But not today. Not tomorrow. Probably not next year.

You see, Mr. President. I never get a spare minute to myself in the bathroom. I always have a visitor. I’ve had a visitor for the last 8 years. Mind you the visitors have changed but still I am not alone. I’m sure the secret service accompanies you many places but I’m willing to bet you do get a little privacy in this one area.

In the past, currently, and in the future there is only one thing which will occupy my visitors. The toilet paper roll. My visitors enter the bathroom with great surprise and enthusiasm each time they notice the roll. From there, not even your top military commander could stop the destruction. It is only a matter of nanoseconds before mass amounts of toilet paper are lying upon the floor. For years, rolls upon rolls of paper, have been wasted in this manner.

Yes I do I contemplate all the trees that have gone into the making of this precious resource. Yes I do know all of the energy that is consumed in the process of making this toilet paper. And yet, I simply toss it.

Let’s face it Mr. President, I toss it and move on. I simply must. Somewhere in my house the water is running, the lights are on, and my visitors are using every scrap piece of paper to color on. In time I will jump on your environmental mission -probably around the time I go to the bathroom all by myself.

Regards,

Jennifer

Valentine Love

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I  love my kids and husband more than I can express to you. They are the ones who make me get up in the morning (horizontal children in your bed tend to do that) and the ones who put smiles on my face. I have the deepest love for our children and the man who is my partner.carolineI love that you go to bed with dolls but insist on playing Legos too.

Derek and Caroline in the snowI love what an amazing dad you are to our children.

I love that you two always want to be together and do the same silly things.

caroline - schoolI love how independent and self assured you are.

I love how all three of you can play in the same room with the same activity.

andrew sewingI love that you enjoy crafty things and singing in the shower for all to hear.

alex footballI love that you are passionate about sports and can recall every statistic you’ve read in the newspaper for the last 3 years.

I love that you are always talking on the phone, going through my purse, or playing on the computer – all while smiling.

I love that you are willing to do things for our children that are out of your comfort zone – just because you want to make them smile.

I love that you are always finding ways to have fun together.

I love that you are passionate about animals and your life’s dream is to work at the zoo (at the cash register).

I love what an amazing big brother you are. You are always willing to watch, follow, or play with your brother or sister.

I love how much you love our children and me.

I love that you make us all laugh everyday.

I love that you love each other.

I love that you are my equal for taking care of our children. You are always cleaning, cooking, going to practices, and taking care of us.

I love that you were so proud of yourself for accomplishing this.

I love that you are willing to try new things with your brother just because it interests him.

I love that I get to spend everyday with my family.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Moustaches for the Masses

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When looking around blog world I noticed many handmade Valentine’s. I especially liked the idea I found on Cupcakes Kisses n ‘Crumbs and thought my boys would too.

Steps we took to make Valentine Moustaches:

1) Alex found a mustache shape he liked on the Silhouette machine. We played with the size until he was satisfied with “the look.” The machine then cut out 50 moustaches from black card stock.

2) Next I took paint pens and wrote “Happy (Heart) Day!” Alex then wrote his name.

moustache3) Buy a ridiculously huge bag of Dum Dum lollipops since it’s the only bag at Walmart. I’m talking 300 Dum Dums people. I’ll have these for the next two Halloweens. Well, at least till the beginning of March.

4) The tricky part was getting just the right size hold to place our lollipop in. We made the hole by using an awl.

5)  We then simply slid the lollipop on.

Here’s a look at the finished project. Not the best photo. It was bedtime and I thought this was good enough at the time. Probably should have been patient for another photo.The boys were thrilled with the lollipop moustaches and can’t wait to give them to their friends.

Do you have any Valentine’s Day creations or plans?

Preschool Madness

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Caroline is going to a school about 45 minutes away from our house. She’s going there because 1) our family loves it and 2) it’s on my way to work so it’s easiest to drop her off there.

Next year though I decided to find something closer to home. Last Monday I took the opportunity to visit 4 different preschools. I toured all the facilities and then ranked them in order of preference. At the end of the tour for my #1 choice, the director mentioned that registration was the following Monday. She said, “The registration starts at 8:30 am but people start lining up at 7:00 am.”

I’ve stood in line for elementary school acceptance for the boys so I knew I could do this for preschool. It seemed a little over the top to me but I wanted to get Caroline into this school. It’s the closest school to our house and my first preference.

The director also mentioned all of the 2 day classes I wanted were filled already. Church members or students who were already enrolled in the school had taken most of the available spots. She mentioned there were only 7 spots left for all the other 2 days classes. Since there were only 7 spots left I decided I better get there early.

I managed to get up on the designated Monday and be out the door by 6:50. I had packed two coats, a hat, gloves, a blanket, a chair, a book, and snacks. I was ready to wait outside in the 35 degree weather if necessary.

Driving there I thought to myself, I will probably see 2 or 3 cars in the parking lot since she said people start lining up at 7. Imagine my surprise when I pulled into the parking lot and saw about 20 cars. “Please tell me all these people are here for an early bible study. Please. Please.”

I walked right into the building, thankful my winter gear was not needed. Immediately upon walking in I noticed the plastic hanging numbers and sign in sheet. The plastic numbers were exactly like ones you might find in a deli or in a dressing room. My number was 21. Are you kidding me? It’s 7:03! How is this possible? I thought she said people start lining up at 7:00. When signing in I also had to put down the time I got there. I glanced up at the person in the coveted #1 spot – she had signed in at 4:53! The next 10 people had gotten there sometime between 5:30 and 6:00.

Where am I? What kind of school is this? I simply googled a list area preschools and got this one. Does having my toddler in this preschool mean she’s connected and will get into the sorority of her choosing? Are we signing up to be in some sort of toddler cult?

I took a seat in the “waiting room” along with 20 of my competitors other parents. I took out my book and pretended to read. What I really did was zone into conversations trying to pick up any bit of information about how old their children could possibly be?

I managed to hear one woman say, “I had hoped to get her in the 3 day a week program but it’s already full.” YES! That program isn’t even offered for my daughter’s age group. Now I’m basically number 20 in line!

I strained my eyes to see the woman’s paperwork sitting on the ground near me. YES! Her kid is younger than mine! But crap, she walked in right after me, I’m still 20.

When I initially walked into the waiting room I noticed two moms with one year olds. I instantly felt sympathy pains for them since I knew their children could go down hill at any moment. One little boy sat on his moms’ lap and didn’t make a sound the entire time. He ate cheerios and looked at a show on her IPhone. On the other hand, the other little boy had already had enough at 7:15. He didn’t care about the books his mom brought. He didn’t care about the toys she tried to distract him with. He didn’t care about the snack she tried to give him. She decided to take him on a walk which seemed to interest him for awhile. Eventually they walked back into the room with a toy truck.

All was well for about 3 minutes. But then he found the sound button. When the button was pressed this hideous screeching sound came from the truck. Each time this offensive noise occurred for roughly 28 seconds.  Okay, maybe it was more like 2 seconds but it seemed much louder. The mom tried to take the toy away from her son but he would not allow it. After several more bursts of sound she looked very flustered. I said to her, “It’s okay, we’re all moms we understand.” What I was thinking was, “B****, turn off that freakin’ toy, it’s 7:30 am.” But my face never betrayed me. I completely came across as a sympathetic mom.

About 8:00 I noticed a shift taking place. Five of the original 20 parents were guys. At 8:00 there appeared to be an official changing of the guard. Wives came in with their hair done, nice clothes, and Starbucks in hand. It was obvious their husbands work was done and they were now in charge. The dads left quickly thrilled to be relieved from their duty. The other moms who hadn’t quite taken so much time on their appearance kept stealing glances at “the new ones.”

I took a quick break around this time to stretch my legs and get a change of scenery. I found two other mothers standing near the entrance so I started to chat them up. I asked how old their kids were (umm, I sincerely cared but YES! I’m number 19 now thanks to a 3 year old), and if they had other suggestions for schools.

One of the moms mentioned she had to run to her car to get her charger, did we mind? There was a sign on the door which read, “Once you have signed in for preschool registration you may not leave the building.” Did I mind? Hmm……what number are you? 27 you say? No, go right on out there. Drive to McDonald’s for all I care. But if you were #14 I would report your rear end so fast for taking a step out that door.”

At 8:29 they announced they were ready to start registering #1-9. Relief, smiles, laughter from those 9 moms.

Moments later #10-19 were called. The rest of us stared longingly at them. “Take us with you,” we all whispered under our breaths.

Then it was time for #20 – 29. So long suckers! Hah! Sucks to be you still in the waiting room.

Caroline received the second to last spot for 2 year olds. I wanted to take a victory lap around the waiting room but decided that might make things a tad awkward come fall.

I was home by 9:00 and back in sweats by 9:15.

Believe you me, I will bring up this experience several times during Caroline’s lifetime. Something along the lines of…..”I remember the time I stood in line at 2 am in the snow to get you into preschool….”

The Mom Song

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This woman is brilliant. My friend Jess sent me this video a couple of years ago and I just discovered it again. It makes me smile, chuckle, and nod my head in agreement. I’m pretty sure I’ve said most of what’s in this song. Enjoy!

And her take on Dad’s..