Author: Shannon

One morning this week Liam woke up with bigger feet than he had the previous day.  I’m not sure exactly which morning, but sometime between Monday and today the only shoes that he can comfortably wear are his Crocs and he takes those off everywhere we go (not exactly ideal for the playground).   The kid needs a pair of tennis shoes.

Enter Zappos.  I love them.  They have a ton of selection and great service.  The latest example of this is that I ordered new shoes for Liam yesterday evening at 7:30 and they were on our doorstep at 3:30 this afternoon.  The free shipping and returns don’t hurt either, since internet shopping for shoes (especially for a toddler) can be dicey.  However, nothing is more dicey than trying to take Liam shopping somewhere and A) find shoes that I like B) find shoes that Matt likes C) find shoes that don’t make Liam trip all over himself & D) don’t put us directly in the poorhouse.  I got the first two pairs of the shoes we decided on (I ordered the size I thought he’d need and the next half size up) this afternoon.  The larger size fits him (and passed the running test–no tripping and he threw a fit when I tried to take them off) but if I can get away with even larger ones without him eating pavement then I’d prefer to get as much life out of these as I can, so I ordered another half size up this evening.  It’s all worth it, though–could these be any cuter?

Fantastic price and just like Dad’s, how could we resist?

Action shots to come.

We had another splurge meal tonight.  And by splurge I mean a meal that was on the list for a regular-weeknight meal until I was sick for a week from caffeine withdrawal and other ailments and fell behind on our scheduled meals.  So technically it was a Cooking Light recipe (which doesn’t really follow splurge guidelines) but instead of the fat free evaporated milk it called for I used lowfat, so that’s kind of a splurge, don’t you think?  It’s called Cajun Chicken Pasta and technical splurge or not, it was fantastic (and ready at 8pm when Liam went down instead of 10:15pm like last week).

In process:

Finished product:

Mmmm!!!

1:  I think Liam reads the blog.  He just started eating the crusty, fried cheese off his sandwiches yesterday but today he moved on to not only eating the fried cheese off the edges but refusing to eat anything not attached to the fried cheese on the outside.  He spent a good twenty minutes pulling cheese from between the pieces of bread (until it no longer pulled out into cool cheese strings and began to just break off).

2:  Matt read somewhere recently that Liam is supposed to be able to drink from a regular cup at this point.  This idea was terrifying to me (I immediately pictured my entire house doused with milk from floor to ceiling) but I knew it had to happen sometime so I gave him a plastic cup filled with yogurt smoothie at lunch today.  He immediately put his hands on either side of the cup, picked it up, and drank it like he’d been doing it his whole life (as is usually the case with developmental activities that he hasn’t mastered because his parents were too stupid (or scared of potential repercussions) to allow him to try).  I said “Liam, I’m very impressed!”  He has been walking around saying “Mama ‘pressed” for the past half an hour.  Of course I had the camera handy for the momentous occasion:

Look Ma, no lid!

One:

Two:

Three:

Mmmmm, Smoothie!

Maybe she’ll put down that camera if I can hide from her…

If I just concentrate hard enough, I’m sure I can will this smoothie into my mouth:

The power of positive thinking:

Monkey love:

Monkey hug:

Monkey kiss:

This week we made Paula Deen’s Chicken Pot Pie.  It tasted fantastic, but the experience was a total disaster.  It went a little like this:

5:30pm: Matt suggests that we start putting things together for the meal and Shannon thinks that this is a great idea (and that maybe Liam will get to eat some with us if we finish quickly enough).  Matt pulls all the meat off the rotisserie chicken we used (somehow I doubt Paula Deen would have batted an eye at the fact that I didn’t actually buy and roast an entire chicken, but who knows) while I pull together the ingredients for the crust (which I felt shamed into making because of the number of times I’ve caught it from Lynne over the fact that I’ve never made a pie crust).  I start going through drawers looking for my pastry blender only to find I don’t have one (apparently what I was picturing was my mother’s- oops).  We decide that we’ll just make a quick trip to the Publix to pick up “real” cream of celery soup (apparently I committed a faux pas by purchasing the 98% fat free version) a pastry blender and a pastry cutter (which according to Matt is what makes the edges look pretty–but I’ve never seen one before so I just trust him and off we go).

5:45pm: Leave for Publix.

6:08pm: Discover that Publix has neither the pastry blender nor the pastry cutter.

6:10pm: Leave Publix for Kroger to try again.

6:25pm: Discover that Kroger doesn’t have cutters or blenders either.

6:30pm: Pull in our driveway as Liam yells out “Garage! Garage!”

6:32pm: After a brief discussion in the car we head out to the Target to try one more time to find the cutter and the blender. Liam is confused.

6:50pm: Discover that Target has both a pastry cutter and blender!

7:00pm: Pull in the driveway again–this time victorious.

7:07pm: I pull out the flour to begin what has become a slightly intimidating pastry recipe.  Here I am (notice the smile–which was to be short-lived):

Then I looked inside:

In case you wondered–no–those flecks in the flour aren’t because it’s whole grain.  We had worms.  In the flour.

7:13pm:  I make yet another trip to the Publix while Matt feeds Liam an exceptionally late dinner.

7:35pm:  I return home from the Publix with a fresh bag of flour.  In case you’re keeping track: we’re now 2 hours into making dinner and have yet to actually make anything.

7:40pm:  I start sifting the ingredients for the crust together in what turns out is the world’s WORST sifter.  It’s not a hand crank like my mom’s, it’s the kind where you pull the grip repeatedly to (supposedly) sift everything out the bottom.

7:45pm:  I hand the sifter over to Matt hoping that he’ll have better luck since in five minutes I’ve sifted out approximately 2 TBS worth of the 3 cups of flour that are inside.

7:53pm:  Matt begins to curse and I pull out the mesh colander to finish the job (which works pretty well, actually) while he tries to extract what’s left of the flour, salt, and baking powder mixture out of the Sifter Of Death.

8:00pm:  We finally finish sifting and removing ingredients from the crappy sifter and Matt goes to get Liam ready for bed while I begin to blend the Crisco into the flour mixture.

8:13pm:  Matt returns from putting Liam down and I’m still trying to achieve the “small-pea-sized” pellets that are supposed to form in what one would assume would be a reasonable amount of time.

8:14pm: My arm is tired and my patience is worn down and I declare that I am not (as I suspected all along) a pastry maker.  I hand the bowl over to Matt and I begin to chop and mix the other ingredients together in the saucepan.

8:30pm:  I’m finished with the mixing and Matt is at the rolling out stage of the pastry making process.

8:31pm:  I pull out the goat cheese to soften and pour the wine as it had become very clear that we are going to need to have an appetizer if we intend to make it to the end of this recipe without passing out from sheer hunger.

8:32pm:  Matt begins by flouring the counter and rolling pin and he’s off to the races.

8:45pm:  Matt has two nearly-perfect rectangles ready to make the bottom and top of the pot pie.

8:46pm:  Matt attempts to remove the first pastry rectangle from the counter.  It’s stuck.

8:47pm:  He thinks maybe he can salvage it by being very careful.  It’s really stuck.

8:48pm:  Matt re-flours the counter and begins the process again.

9:15pm:  The pot pie is finally ready to go in the oven:

(and yes–that is MY husband’s beautiful lattice work!)

9:16pm:  The pot pie is in the oven and we head downstairs to watch Project Runway while eating goat cheese for the 45 minutes it takes to bake.

10:01pm:  The timer goes off.  We run upstairs to look at our creation.  It’s supposed to be golden brown but even after turning up the temperature on our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad oven it’s clearly not golden brown.  It’s not pork, though, so we have hope and set the timer for 5 more minutes and head back downstairs.

10:06pm:  We come back upstairs.  We’re very hopeful.  The pastry is still depressingly pale.  We set the timer for another 5 minutes and turn the oven up another 15 degrees and go downstairs again.

10:11pm:  Back upstairs.  Pastry’s still mostly pale.  We give up and decide that we need to learn to accept the pot pie’s imperfections and love it as it is:

Matt, full of pride and pastry prowess:

We’re finally finished!  Hey–it’s a reasonable dinner time on the West Coast…

The pot pie was absolutely delicious.  Next week our recipe will be a bit less involved (and I’ll check for all necessary implements and make sure there are no worms in the ingredients…).

Today I thought I had major re-entry depression issues until Matt came home and we were talking and I realized that I’d only had 3 sips of half-caff coffee this morning and have been in withdrawal all day.  I’m taking it as a sign that I need to go off the junk (again) cold-turkey: there’s no time like the present, so we’ll see.  I know that no one comes to this site to read about my addiction issues, so here’re some pictures from the last couple of days:

He’s comin’ to get YOU!

Linus lives:

Visit with Gangee and Pop:

Popsicle!

Diaper check:

Letters!

Peek-A…

Boo!