and then what happened

Well, it's Monday and we've got even more fresh snow on the ground.
The WINNER of She Wouldn't Sing at My Wedding is Kat from Seeking Sanity!  Yay, Kat!  Email me your mailing address!  Hope you enjoy the collection.
As it happens, Mr. G is gifted at wrestling, too.  I'd hoped at least one kid would knock him down a peg, but the little animal went out there and won all 3 of his matches.  Turns out having 2 older brothers makes a kid fearless, tenacious and strong.  Observe his final round:

A wrestling tournament (meet? thingy?) is an emotional place.  LOTS of yelling and crying.  It's all a bit foreign for me, I'm much more at home at a basketball game.  But the kid had fun and wants to do it again.  For the record, the Happyland coaches do a great job of emphasizing FUN and good technique over competition.  I wish Mr. T had stuck with it, but it takes a certain kind of kid to wrestle.  Much like beauty pageants and coin collecting, it's certainly not an activity for everybody.

Mr. B's team took 4th at their tournament.  The 1st and 2nd place teams were in a league of their own.  It was a proud day for him, but I only got to see the first of his four games of the day because his father and I had to go to a zone defense.  Mr. D helped coach and he was very proud, too.  Especially as they won their last game in double-overtime.
The wedding went well--another ridiculously cute and happy couple made legal.
Italian Beef Sandwiches are DELICIOUS and EASY to make.  Here's how:  put 1 chuck roast, 1 chopped onion, 1 minced clove of garlic, 2 cans beef consomme and 1 cup red wine in a pot.  Do not cover.   Bake at 325 in your oven for about 4 hours.  Shred and serve on buns.  Now go buy a chuck roast so you can make these sandwiches this weekend when you feel lazy.  (This recipe is brought to you from a lady named Gerry from Chisholm, Minnesota.)
I have no words for Julianne Moore's gown last night.  Mr. B deemed it "too wrinkly and too big."  When a 10 year old boy weighs in like that, one must wonder WTF her stylist was thinking.  Oy.
And Sybil.  Julian Fellowes, you cad.  You took the best and most interesting sister and offed her.  Not sure if I mentioned that Mr. T watches Downton Abbey with me.  We had a great discussion about the risks of childbirth following Sybil's tragic demise.  It's a gift that despite having 3 sons, one watches Upstairs, Downstairs  and Downton Abbey.  He confesses that it's hard to keep all the characters straight and I suspect he watches only to prolong bedtime on Sunday night, but it's our thing and I like not watching alone so there you go.
 The cookie cake at school was good.  Chock full of chips.  And the kids were angelic--subbing for those middle school kids is some easy money.
Today the children do not have school.  Mr. G went to a buddy's house and Mr. B has a buddy over and they're in a place I like to call "Minecraft Nirvana."
What to do while the children play? 

Spill it, reader.  Did you see Downton Abbey?  Were you outraged?

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good things

I'm a bigger fan of spring than summer, but with the passing of our lilacs also comes the passing of the dandelions. The lawn actually looks pretty nice these days--lush and green. The heady perfume of apple blossoms and lilacs have been replaced with the sweet smell of clover and roses. Peonies, lupines and delphiniums are starting to bloom with daisies, lavender and irises close behind. June is pretty nice, why do I forget?
I'm stunned by the constant presence of children, the shift of schedules, the onslaught of activities taking up the daylight hours. But things are going well on that front: Mr. B continues to read out loud to me every day. His fluency and word recognition grow exponentially. Mr. T has already passed TWO levels on Typing Instructor I and scored a goal in soccer last night! He hustles on the field, he went from hating soccer to showing some leadership and serious effort every week. Mr. G is learning how to add and catch ground balls.
And we're picking the first strawberries.
Busy as bees.
Speaking of good things, there's this FABULOUS book by Alyssa Goodnight that I'm giving away to a lucky winner. Spill it, reader. What good things does June bring you?

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All Domestic Today

Still subzero degrees outside...had a horrid homework meltdown with Mr. T yesterday...I wish he was a less complicated child...Mr. B and Mr. G are watching King Kong Escapes! and eating pretzels...we have to go to the Twin Cities this weekend to visit my family...this will be the first time since my grandma died 4 years ago that my parents and my sisters and I will all be together...being together with all that family makes my stomach all lurchy and weird because there's a huge level of Jerry Springer Crazy going on there...thank God I have plans to meet my good friend Mary (of knitted scarf fame) for coffee Saturday morning of my visit.

With all of this, I long for cozy, warm comfort. So today? Banana Bread! I love this recipe from Mrs. George Anderson of Chisolm, Minnesota (from a cookbook I acquired during one of Mr. D's Field of Dreams Ghost Player Appearances). It uses sour cream which gives the bread an incredible richness and uses up more bananas than the average recipe--and when I have RIPE bananas, I usually have a bunch. (groan)

Fabulous Banana Bread

2 C flour
1/2 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
1/4 t salt
1/4 C butter
1 C sugar
1 egg, beaten
2 lg. ripe bananas, mashed
3 T sour cream
1 C chopped pecans or walnuts (optional

Cream butter, add sugar, then egg and bananas. Sift together dry ingredients and add to butter/banana/sugar/egg mixture alternately with sour cream. Add nuts. pour into greased 4X8 inch loaf pan. Bake at 350 for 40 minutes or inserted toothpick comes out dry. Cool on rack. Serve with butter if you're indulgent, plain if you're virtuous.

Double this recipe and give the extra loaf to your favorite neighbor.


Mr. D is subbing in his old archery league tonight so I get total control over the remote. Which means any TV I want to watch. Or don't. Either way, it's my choice and no man will tell me what to do. (political innuendo intended)

And now in the spirit of Mrs. G who is the epitome of blogger generosity, I'd like to draw your attention to a few things:

Kalurah from While they Play has a crochet project for those of you with crafty fingers. I don't crochet, but please, if you do, go to her site.

Hotfessional has a blogging contest--your worst travel experience. Check it out.

Mary Alice provides some nice perspective today at From the Frontlines.

Minnesota Matron is either inspiring or insane, depending on how you take her. But if you live in chilly climes like we do, you'll appreciate her latest post.

Here's to warm mittens, soft slippers, hot cocoa, steamy sex--whatever keeps you toasty in January.

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Many, Movie Monsters

Team Testosterone enjoys Japanese monster movies--Godzilla movies to be precise. With all the great children's programming available (Arthur, Dragontales, Sesame Street, Cyber Chase, Fetch, Maya and Miguel), my children prefer Godzilla movies circa 1965-1969, dubbed in English so the actors' lips never move in sync with the dialogue. The plots always involve the destruction of our planet by aliens (Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, Godzilla vs. Gigan) or the destruction of our planet by human efforts (Godzilla vs. Mothra, Godzilla vs. Biollante) and the message about protecting our fragile Earth by not messing with science is always reiterated in the final scene. Sometimes Godzilla is a good monster, battling to protect Japan and the rest of the earth from the invading aliens (Godzilla vs. Mothra) or even putting an end to terrorist organizations like the Red Bamboo (Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster). Other times, Godzilla is the enemy, such as in Destroy All Monsters where he goes on a rampage smashing New York City to bits and tearing up subway cars and skyscrapers. I don't know why or how the switch from bad monster to good monster takes place, but Team Testosterone seem to accept it as a matter of course.

What is more interesting than their endless fascination with these really bad B movies ("Ichiro! Look out! Godzilla has escaped from Monster Island!") is their ongoing debate about which monsters are stronger and more powerful. Godzilla? Mothra? Manda? Baragon? Kumonga? Rodan? Anguirus? Ebirah? Kamacuras? Gabara? Arguments break out over whether Godzilla could kick Gabara's reptile ass and they ask me for answers to their profound questions about how Anguirus got his power and Mothra's gender.

Most interesting to us all is why Toho Studios never bought the rights to tell the tale of Godzilla vs. Gammera the Invincible. Gammera starred in 8 movies and yet never made it to the silver screen against Godzilla, who even battled against King Kong in the classic film Godzilla vs. King Kong. The Godzilla vs. Gammera question drove me to a place I thought I'd never end up in a million years--in an Internet chat room with seriously geeky monster movie fans discussing the finer points of Godzilla movies. The things we do for love.

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An Attitude of Gratitude

I have prepared my children for giving thanks. My mother in law has claimed this holiday (my parents got Easter in Minnesota when we divvied up the holidays between families) and she hosts over 20 people in her smallish house located in the middle of cornfields in rural Iowa. She loves to have us hold hands at 4:10 when we're all starving and antsy and go around the room saying what we're thankful for.

In the past people have announced pregnancies and engagements.

Mostly the children squirm and mumble "my mom and dad" or act foolish in the spotlight of attention. The men are irate because a football game has been temporarily turned off for this tradition.

The entire fiasco annoys the hell out of me and I despise how trite has Thanksgiving become.

Especially when I'm presented a meal of brown food to go with it. (Poppy Buxom, your folks have got NOTHING on these Iowa women--turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, Stovetop Stuffing, heat and serve buns--white, none of that whole grain business--scalloped corn, green bean casserole made with green beans so processed they look like grey worms smothered in french fried onions, and pumpkin pie straight from a bakery in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Add salt and good china and damn it, we got ourselves a feast!)

This year I've stirred the pot. I emailed my the 3 sisters-in-law and told them that my children are drawing gratitude pictures. They will bring them to grandma's and when we go around the room, my children will describe what they drew, in essence, what they are thankful for with a visual aide.

The bachelors and I discussed what we're thankful for over the weekend and then they drew their pictures with a new set of colored pencils. I helped them design frames and you know what? I think this year when we talk about what we're thankful for, they might begin to get it.

Bachelor # 1 is thankful for baseball. (Note the adorable baseballs adorning the frame)


Bachelor #2 is thankful for our new swimming pool. He drew the water brown because the liner isn't installed yet so it looks all dirty. The dark lines behind the pool is the woods.


Bachelor #3 is thankful for his school and his friends: Truett, Anabelle, Miss Tonia, Miss Pam, and Miss Susie.



I am thankful that 2 of my sisters-in-law agreed to go along with this idea and 9 of 12 grandchildren won't bore the rest of us to tears or choke under pressure this Thursday.

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Death Wishes

Lately Death has been a topic of conversation around our house.

The other day Mr. T (Bachelor #1) told me, "Well, after Dad dies and I die and Mr. B dies and Mr. G dies and you die I guess they'll just have to tear our house down."

(Where did he come up with that?)

And yesterday Mr. B informed me, "When Dad dies, then Mr. T becomes the daddy. Then when he dies, I'll be the dad. When I die, Mr. G will be the dad and when he dies, well, then you'll have to die Mom, because there will be nobody left to take care of you."

Awwwww ...

I love to read obituaries--every now and then I come across an amazing person who lived an incredible life and their obit. totally reflects that. But most of the time obituaries are crap. Mr. D is NOT allowed to write mine. I've told him that. I've also told him that the sentence, "She lived every day to the fullest," is NOT permitted to appear in my obituary or at my funeral. It's a blatant lie. I've spent quite a lot of time frittering away my days. I should spent some of this time writing my obituary so Mr. D doesn't have to sweat it.

And when I'm dead? No one can print a message to me in the newspaper on the anniversary of my death saying things like, "Mom/Mel, we love you and think of you always. Love, Mr. D, Mr. T, Mr. B and Mr. G" Seriously. Because when I go to glory, what makes you think I'll be reading your $15.00 personal tribute in The Appleton Post-Crescent???

I imagine when it's my time to go, there'll be more sentimental blather than I could possibly stomach, so it's just as well I won't be around to hear it.

On a happy note, it does make me feel good that my children are so comfortable with the concept of death and not all freaked out or traumatized by it. It's another indication of how healthy and well-adjusted I've helped them become. (Oh yeah, I'm taking full credit on this one.)

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First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes?

Of my 3 sons, Bachelor #2 is the most interested in the fairer sex. He's the one who gawked at a window display for Victoria's Secret while the rest of us were tromping through the Mall of America to see the aquarium. His brothers only had eyes for the escalator. He's the one who has had a girlfriend since he was three. His brothers don't believe in girlfriends (or putting dirty clothes in the hamper or picking up toys).

At Grandparent's Day at preschool his Grandma Alice asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

She expected him to reply "Firefighter" or "Police officer" or even "Superhero."

Nope.

Mr. B. answered, "Married."

Fast forward to yesterday.

He's sitting at the kitchen table playing with play dough and announces, "When I'm married you know what I'm gonna do?"

Me: "What's that buddy?"

Mr. B: "Drink lots of water."

Me: "Why's that, buddy?"

Mr. B: "'Cuz I really like water so I'm gonna drink a million of water."

All I can say is his future wife is one lucky gal.

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