blogworthy.

the cake i baked for the (now) four year old.  (i will attempt not to mention that it is also a blogland redundancy.  damn, failed at that.  oh well.)

and the always blogworthy ;) four year old.

happy birthday to my beautiful georgia.  may you always believe that the world is your oyster but learn to share some of the pearls along the way.

in health and in sickness.

always a teacher at <3

Why is it that whenever Sparky is going to spend a father/daughter weekend away with the older one, without fail, the younger one, the little spitfire who is going to hang with me for a couple days, gets sick?  (I was going to write "falls ill."  Huh, what century are we in?  Maybe watching too much Downtown Abbey... but I digress.)  I had a three year old's fun filled weekend planned (with perhaps an overnighter at Gigi and Papa's so Momma could have a little fun with her friends.)  But instead of a Ruby's burger  for dinner on Thursday, a half day at Disneyland, followed by a nice long nap, then Fashion Island for a giant pretzel and gelato on Friday, and a Saturday Snuggle Fest with G-pa and G-ma, we'll be on the couch.  Oh, we've got our arsenals to keep us busy.  Her: Team Umizumi, Sesame Street, Giada at Home, Angry Birds, and Fruit Ninja.  Me: Pinterest, Blog Roundups, Instagram, Hey Girl tumblrs, The Kitchen House, and streamed Netflix when she's sleeping.  (Note to self (and others): Do not fall asleep to Damages.  It is very unpleasant to be startled awake by screams so real you think someone is being attacked in your bedroom.  Also very unpleasant to have dreams all night long of that experience.  Stick with falling asleep to the banter of Jerry, George. and Elaine.)  It isn't quite the weekend of my dreams...but I'll make it work.  After all, I'm spending it with one of my favorite people, poor sweet little sickie that she is.

Hope y'all have a great weekend!

on the *end of an era

Over the weekend we moved G into her "big girl" bed and I couldn't stop the nostalgia from washing over me.  For the first time in almost 7 years, there wasn't a sleeping baby in the crib.

Now I realize that Georgia is not a baby, has not been a "baby" for quite some time.  She turns four in May!  She's been potty trained for well over a year.  She goes to school and writes her name in oversized uppercase.  She rides a two wheeler without training wheels.  (Yep, she's pretty much a stud!)  And in case I do forget, she tells me that she's a big girl and can "do it by myself!"  And by it, I mean everything. 

 And yet..."I hold you momma"-- that phrase, left-over from when she was first learning to form sentences, is spoken at least once a day.  Georgia climbs into my lap.  Or reaches her arms up.  Or wraps her legs around one of mine, looking up at me with the big blue eyes with the long dark lashes.  And she makes me STOP whatever it is I am doing simply to hold her.  The era of the crib is ending, but in those moments I am reminded that she will always be my baby.  Thank God for those moments.

*possible

bittersweet.

This morning, I dropped off G (and Ava) at Vacation Bible School.  It's Georgia's first experience being dropped off for school (or anywhere for that matter.)  And it's kind of A BIG DEAL.  Last night, she excitedly chatted about it with me and her big sister, picked out one of her favorite dresses, said she wanted her hair done in "ponies."  And then firmly stated "Momma, you stay at church school WITH ME."  Except, no I wouldn't be and she knew this.

Georgia is not in the least bit shy or reticent.  She doesn't cling to me in social situations.  She says 'Hi!" to other shoppers as we pass in the aisle of the grocery store.  Her smile is forever ready to share.  She walks up to complete strangers to ask them their names and start conversations.  She also runs away from me in the shoe department of Nordstom or down our tree lined street.  (See ya, bye!)  But she knows I'm following.  Always.  G is a momma's girl of a different sort,  because although she's fiercely independent, strong-willed, vivacious; she is at the exact same moment "my baby" not only in my eyes, but hers as well.  Of course she's spent time with grandparents and our babysitter, but for the most part, Georgia and I spend all of our waking moments together, and we (mostly ;) like it that way.

Leaving her today was harder for me than I thought it would be.  I was excited for Georgia to be, in her words, "a big girl" experiencing new activities and new people.  I was also looking forward to a morning of "me time," spent in my empty quiet house.  But as she sat in the first pew of our church in her pink polka dotted dress, her blonde ponytails lightly grazing her shoulders, and we said goodbye, her eyes weren't the only ones that became full with tears.  I choked mine back, kissed her once more, smiled, and rushed down the center aisle, knowing that she and I would both be fine and that hiding my small sense of sadness over this first goodbye was best for the both of us.  This was, after all, only the first of many firsts to come... 

I won't lie.  I hid at the back of the church, chatting unobtrusively with another mom.  By the time I walked out the double doors of the church a few minutes later (OK-twenty!), she was happily sitting on one of her teacher's laps, smiling her Georgia smile.  And I was smiling too.

six!

I can't affectionately refer to Ava as "the five year old" anymore.

Let the adventures of SIX begin...

a confession + an outfit + a trend.

Over the last few months, I've developed a new guilty pleasure.  Every morning while I'm making Ava's lunch, I check out the outfit posts from one of these lovely ladies' fashion blogs.  I have to force myself not to open Safari until after I've gotten the girlies breakfast and after the coffee is made.  If Sparky happens still to be home and walks into the kitchen, I quickly close the browser window!  Not sure why I feel so guilty about it and I also don't know why it's so appealing to me... Perhaps, it's because I don't actually get dressed everyday.  The fact I walk around the house naked most days creates this desire to see clothed people?  I kid.  Of course, I put clothes on everyday (although truth be told if I were more confident in who I am, I'd simply walk Ava the 100 yards to school in my pajamas!)  Unless I have plans outside of mommying, you'll most likely find me in a) workout/yoga pants, a tank top, and a sweatshirt b)sweats (cringe) or c)jeans (if i can fit into them) and a t-shirt.  I so enjoy seeing how these beautiful women put items together into fashionable outfits.  It has made such a difference in how I feel about getting dressed when I actually do "get dressed."  (Unfortunately for Sparky, I think it's made a difference in my shopping habits as well.  But shhhhhh, don't tell.)

There are SO MANY fashion blogs where women simply post pictures of themselves in their darling clothes.  And I totally get the appeal of being one of these bloggers, by the way--a bit like playing dress-up as a kid while spinning and posing in mommy's full length mirror.  It makes me want to get in on the action.  So today I did, using the five year old as my muse.  =)

Sweater-A Children's Place

Dress-Target

Knee socks (trend! =) -Target

Shoes-Lelli Kelly, Nordstrom

P.S. Ava picked out her outfit with a little guidance from mom.  I should note that she will ONLY wear dresses, prefers pink and yellow, does not like plaid, and thinks black and brown are "boy" colors.  Getting dressed isn't an easy task these days, friends.  Looking forward to the teenage years. OY! Help me.

a long day ending with chocolate.

{this is chocolate}

The two year old is obsessed with Giada.  Which is fine, I'm a fan myself.  The problem is that she only wants to watch two particular episodes of Giada, the Halloween episode and the episode where Giada goes ice skating with Brian Boitano.  Do you know how many times Ava and I have been subjected to Jade picking out caramels at the Candy Baron or Giada laughing at herself on the skating rink?  Ava's five, she's super smart, but I don't think she can count that high.  And to be honest, Giada is starting to bug me.  A lot.  No offense to her.  I'm sure if someone had to watch the same half hour of me over and over again, I'd be pretty annoying too.  I feel as if the only way I can redeem her and these episodes is to pick one of the recipes to make.  (And it better turn out spectacularly.  I'm just sayin'.)   The Halloween episode is a no-go as it's January and I'm really not interested in eating a pumpkin cupcake or biting into a caramel apple at this point.  That leaves the lovely lunch she brought Brian Boitano at the ice rink.  (Really enjoy saying his name, just rolls off the tongue.)  And even though I'm not a baker, I'm going to make her Oatmeal, Cranberry, and Chocolate Chunk Cookies from the episode because a) I like to eat (oatmeal chocolate chip) cookies, b) I have all of the ingredients, c) my children wouldn't eat the Creamy Sweet Potato Soup to save their lives, d) I'd really prefer to make the Ham, Gruyere, and Apple Panini, but I don't have a panini maker, d) I need a dessert to top off the dinner I'm bringing my good friend Becky (who just had her second baby!) and e) I want to attempt a new recipe as I'm joining fantastic Jessica of Kitchen Belleicious in her 2011 Recipe Challenge.  (Yippeee!)  (How's that for a run-on sentence?) Thanks Jessica for allowing me to participate.  Thanks Becky (and Ethan) for adding a new member to our beloved "family."  And thanks Giada for annoying me inspiring me to bake some cookies.


(I usually write these posts after I finish cooking, but because I've got a lot going on right now and I'm beyond exhausted, I'll be writing it "real time," a few sentences at a time, here and there, before, after, and as I mess up bake these cookies.  So please excuse the wordiness and any choppiness.)

Here we go... the recipe.

1 cup all-purpose flour

3/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

1 stick unsalted butter, room temp.

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/2 cup sugar

1 large egg, room temp.

1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

2 cups old fashioned oats

1 cup dried cranberries

1 (4 ounce) 60 percent cacao bittersweet chocolate bar, chopped into chunks

Just the amount of ingredients here stresses me out.  And the measuring.  Really?  I hate measuring.  (Am I the only one who hates exact measuring?)  But I am going to do this.  Because I love Becky.  And chocolate.

Directions: (Blah, blah, blah...I copied and pasted this from Giada's recipe.)
Put an oven rack in the center of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter and sugars together until light and fluffy, about 1 minute. Add the egg and vanilla and beat until smooth. With the machine running, gradually add the flour mixture. Add the oats, cranberries and chocolate chunks. Mix until just incorporated (dough will be stiff). Using a 4-ounce cookie scoop, scoop slightly rounded mounds of the dough into 12 (2-inch-diameter) balls. Arrange 6 balls of dough, spaced evenly apart, on each baking sheet. Using the back of a spoon, flatten the tops slightly and bake until the cookies are slightly golden on the edges, about 13 to 15 minutes. Allow the cookies to cool on the baking sheet for 20 minutes before serving.

{ava mixing the dry ingredients}

{the good stuff-chocolate, oats, and cranberries}

{all i actually care about eating--the batter}

 {this + a tall glass of milk.  call it dinner.}

And POOF, cookies are done. =)  (Twelve and a half hours after I started writing this...)
Cook's Notes
1.  I doubled the recipe. (Hello. 12 cookies are not enough.)
2.  The next time I make this recipe (and I will,) I plan to cut the amount of dried cranberries in half.  They add a bit too much sweetness for my taste.  I'm sure that is preference though.  I don't like raisins in my oatmeal cookies either.
3. Of course, something will need to replace the cranberries, and that will be MORE chocolate chunks.  Love the use of a chopped up chocolate bar instead of chips.  So. Much. Better.
4.  I will definitely be walking my lazy tush the 20 feet to my garage to get my Kitchen Aid on the next go around.  My arm is tired from holding the hand mixer.  Takes much longer to cream the butter and sugar and eggs with that darn thing.
5.  I made smaller cookies but they still took 15 minutes to bake.  (My oven is circa 1986 so that might explain it. Perhaps I should invest in an oven thermometer.)


Sparky loves the cookies.  The true taste test will be tomorrow with the girlies.  Maybe I'll even let them have one for breakfast.  For now, I'm retiring to the couch with a scoop of batter, a glass of milk, and my dvr.  Nighty-night.


*Update, February 4, 2011--After much thought and many bites (and finding and making another oatmeal chocolate chip recipe that is OH SO GOOD,) I do not recommend this recipe (without some major modifications.)   There are so many better out there.  (I'll be posting another one soon.)  Just keeping it real, people. 

{sweet baby cayden jean :) }

having her cake and eating it too.

There is nothing especially exciting about this cake, other than the fact that Ava and her best girlfriend Paigey made it together.  Actually, they baked TWO cakes!  And had a blast doing it.  They thoroughly enjoyed the process, especially the frosting and the decorating.  Sprinkles, my friends, rival glitter in the mess making department.  Each girlie picked a color for her batter and then, after baking, swapped a layer.  (Perhaps this is my segue into this cake.)  It really was a good time, a party in the kitchen if you will.  (Thankfully the two year old was napping during most of our cake-baking playdate!)  

I'd like to say the reason behind this post is a fabulous, easy, and tasty white cake recipe.  One that I make from scratch, all the time.  A recipe, I created all by myself, to satisfy my never ending sweet tooth.  But of course it's not.  Other than the self indulgent need to share pictures,  I'm writing this in search of some help from you (my 30 loyal readers =).  Ava and I love to bake (and eat!) cake together but as I've said before, I'm not much of a baker, so I rely heavily on boxed cake mix (except for this one time,) which is fine.  I'm not opposed to short-cuts or store bought items.  Here's the problem.  I'm not a big fan of the ingredient list on my boxed mix. (Specifically, the partially hydrogenated soybean and modified corn starch.*)  Here's where I need the help.  Do any of you have an easy, fool-proof, delicious recipe for white cake that you seem to use over and over?  (Or better yet, a boxed cake mix that has real* ingredients?)  I'd love it if you'd care to share.  Thanks in advance!

(*How do they modify corn starch anyway?  I don't even want to know.  If my grandmother wouldn't recognize it as food, it probably isn't.  I've been trying to eat food based on that thought for the last year.  More on that at a later date.)

first annual (tradition.)

In the midst of the regularly scheduled holiday rush-to-get-it-all-done-while-enjoying-ourselves-immensely-and-creating-lasting-memories-programming, the two year old and I took some time out today (a station break, if you will) to puddle jump and window shop.  The unplanned one on one time with Georgia was incredibly satisfying, relaxing, and fun.  The word decompress comes to mind.  These are the moments.  (Oh, and if you are in the mood for some puddles, I highly recommend these grown up wellies for proper jumping. =)

APB on a missing elf.

Maybe you know an elf too?  Ours is named Rocky.  He comes every year on the morning of the first of December with a small gift (and every morning after until Christmas) to let the girlies know that Santa loves them, and well, that Santa is watching.  (Don't worry we instill the true reasons behind Christmas too.  Just not here.)   Weeeeeeeeeellll, it's the (early) morning of December 1st, and Mr. Elf is nowhere to be found.  He's not sitting on top of the mantle and he isn't in any of the holiday tubs full of our Christmas decorations either.  Sparky said he checked them all and I believe him.  Really, I do.  (The tubs are in the attic;  I can't get up there or you know I'd be ripping through those damn boxes RIGHT NOW at 2:37 am.)  Before we went to bed, Sparky said, "It's fine. Rocky's just going to be a little late this year.  The girls won't even notice.  I'll move the truck out tomorrow and you can get up in the attic.  No big deal."  And of course, he's right.  Because he's rational and unemotional and normal.  Completely unlike me.  

Here's the letter Rocky sent the girlies.  I just found it and apparently, he's British.  Who knew?  Happy December all.  Let the holiday fun begin. 

thankful thursdays.

dear man who blatantly cut in front of us in line for the matterhorn,

thank you for providing me with the prime opportunity to teach my daughter a lesson about respect for others, patience, and manners.  thank you further for not even turning around to acknowledge my daughter kindly looking up at you while saying "i think you are supposed to be waiting on the number two" because she truly thought you had stepped in front of us on accident.  it just highlighted to me what an amazing human being i am raising.

all the best-
spf

the five year old in another line where everyone was very disney-like and waited their turns. 

tomorrow is another day.

The last 24 hours have been filled with highs (visiting my girlfriends at the Island Hotel in Newport Beach to sip wine on the balcony of an epic suite while watching the sun set over Catalina before going out on the town to celebrate my friend Shelbi's birthday) and lows (having my sweet feverish two year old throw up all over me.) From the moment I got home last night at around midnight, Georgia has spent almost all of her time lying on my chest.  And while I cherish being able to comfort her, I am exhausted.  Her fever finally broke (at least momentarily from the Motrin) and she's sitting next to me (as opposed to ON TOP of me) happily playing on my iphone.  I'm not sure what the night ahead holds.  It might be another sleepless wonder but I'm taking a little "me" time (while I can) to reflect.  I am, in all honestly, feeling a bit defeated in this moment.  But pushing though that is the knowledge that I am, without a doubt, truly blessed.

this is my daughter.

As the five year old and I were walking home from school the other day, a cute an adorable little tow head blonde was headed out of his classroom for his recess.  Ava saw him and her face LIT up with delight.  She immediately dropped my hand and ran over shouting "RYAN!"  She threw out her arms and wrapped him up in one of her typical bear hugs.  (She is not shy with these, gives them out freely to every soul lucky enough to be in her range of movement.)  He returned a HUGE smile coupled with a very slight hug and said "Hi Ava."  She waved bye and we were on our way.  Couple seconds later...

Me: Who was that boy, Ava?
Her: That's Ryan, Momma.  You know, from church.
Me: Oh. Right.  What grade is he in?
Her: Second.
Me: Do you have a crush on him? (Immediately wish I could pull those words back into my mouth, you know the way you slurp up a long piece of spaghetti that failed to twirl on your fork!)
Her (head cocked staring up at me now, perplexed look on her little face): What does that mean?
Me: Oh, just that you kinda like him, no big deal.
Her: Oh.

Silence as we walk for about 10 feet and she is in major thought mode. (That girl does not stop talking so silence is HUGE for her.)

Her:  You know Momma, I think he's crushin' on me.

insomnia + the best laid plans + some weekend photos

When I started this blog, I sought out Joslyn for some advice.  I asked her how she found the time to write her wonderful blog Simple Lovely, given that she has two beautiful daughters, a husband, a career, and what appears to be a very full time LIFE.  She graciously responded, telling me that the biggest "game changer" for her was getting up an hour before her girls did.  She said that she does 90 percent of her blog writing in the silence of the early morning, drinking a cup of coffee.  A fabulously simple but genius idea.  And yet, I was immediately turned off by it.  Here's why.

Sleep is a hot commodity around here for me.  Even though I am quite gifted at teaching my children how to sleep well (I actually refer to myself as the "nap whisperer,") I'm personally not very skilled at it. I wake at the slightest noise (read: girlie cough, giggle, cry or sigh, Sparky snore, dog whimper.)  You'd think that in itself would be great for blog writing.  I mean, I'm up in the middle of the night for hours at a time with nothing to do, many many minutes of uninterrupted Stephanie time.  But, sadly, no.  It seems my middle-of-the-night brain has only the capacity to a) watch reruns of my beloved Law and Order (the original,) b) shop, c) create imaginary to do lists and d) read other people's stories in blog land.  My sweetest sleep is usually between the hours of four and six thirty a.m. when I somehow find dream land for a few hours before my girlies wake for the day.

However, in an effort of good faith and because it's quite clear that Joslyn is doing something seriously right, I decided that at some point I would give her idea a try.  Well, today was the day.  Mainly, because I woke up at 4:45 and thought to myself, "Some people get up at this time everyday.  It's morning.  Sort of.  I'll just get up." And then I got excited.  Yes!  I'll get up.  Make some coffee.  Drink it.  And WRITE.  An entire hour and half of quiet solitude.

Well, friends, within 5 minutes of those lovely first sounds of coffee percolating, G was calling for me.  No joke. "Lay Momma.  Lay Momma."   And really how does one say no to that?

Early morning writing: Major F to the AIL.

Early morning cuddle session with Georgia: Epic WIN.

artist at work

dance party and the tutu that won't quit

rocking the 80's inspired side braid (Ava's current signature hair style)

shopping at Jonathan Adler. "mommy, I'd like this chair for my room, please."

"yes, Ava, well I'd like this one for my room. please."

dressed up for church and a lovely lunch.  (what's missing here? the color gray is a hint.)

what the table looks like after sweet husband walks girlies over to gelato so mommy

can sit quietly enjoying her Sunday lunch glass of Justin cab

am i the only one?

The five year old and the two year old are currently bodyboarding.  On the couch.  The five year old is the "board" and the two year old, well, she's the "body."  They are in violation of more house rules than I care to count.  But I just can't bear to intervene as they are a) both laughing hysterically b) enjoying each other's company c) not watching tv and d) thoroughly entertained without me being involved.  So I'm quietly looking the other way because I am currently surfing.  On my laptop.  Sitting down.  Without little fingers trying to poke at the keyboard or little voices telling me what site to go to.  I'm also drinking a glass of wine.  Did I mention I'm sitting down?

And it's priceless that Sparky walks in from work in the midst of it.  Cheers!

P.S. Yes, the almost two and half year old still uses a binky.  Anytime she wants it.  Go ahead and judge me.

in search of eustace

I don't really remember how I stumbled across this video (you know how it goes... click... click...click...wow, kinda awesome.)  And, I still can't quite pinpoint why it's captivated me so.  Anyway, this is Scottish photographer David Eustace's documentation of a three week road trip he took with his teenage daughter Rachel.




And I'm seriously loving that song by Grant Campbell, it's making me feel all moody and alluring at 9 a.m.  Nice change on a Friday morning.

Have a thought provoking weekend.

little hands.

She reminds me that life is in the doing, not in the getting done.