At least it's a short week, right?

So, Christmas came and went. Whoosh. I distinctly recall a conversation I had with my sister around Thanksgiving and during that call I told her that I feared December would blow through here like an angry wind and Christmas would be over and Sad January would show up before we knew it. I was pretty much spot on. Not to say I didn't enjoy it, I did. Christmas Eve was awesome, as usual, and this year we had a Mexican theme. Brother brought carnitas, we had the fixins and the margaritas and LM provided delicious flan. Muy bueno. Christmas day was fun, too. We had an open house brunch/lunch thing with family and friends and Max had fun opening his new presents. He was having trouble with the "multiple present opening" concept because we would give him one and he would rip off about 1 square inch of paper at a time, very delicate that one, and then I had to go in for him because I'm impatient and he would be so excited for that thing (unless it was clothes)that he would stop and want to play with it. I had to keep taking the stuff and putting it behind me so he would focus on the next present. Tough problem to have, kid. We bought him his first train set that we spent about 45 minutes putting together for him to take about .7 seconds to dismantle (Seriously. Off the table) and he got tons of books and some cute and funny shirts and a new train to ride on and a table and chairs of his own. He made quite a haul. Jeff and I had a nice quiet Christmas evening at home in our pajamas eating leftovers and drinking champagne cocktails. Jeff told me he hid a bottle at the party so we could have some later (SORRY, GUESTS). That's love, people. On Saturday, we had our annual holiday shindig with all our friends at a wine bar kinda near our house. It was a cute place and I drank champagne out of a can and ate a cheeses of the world platter. It was so fun to see everybody and get to relax and have a chat. Halfway through the night, all these cop cars pulled up with their lights on and we were like "HUH?!" It turns out some people had just gotten mugged outside! It actually happened a few blocks away but still. Luckily all the fuzz were still there when we left so we felt very safe walking to our car. It sucks because the neighborhood is interesting but crime has made an unwelcome surge in recent months. It's a shame, really.
Anyway, my point in all this rambling was that December blew through here and while I complained when I had to run around shopping and dealing with jerkwads at the mall and cooking and cleaning, I actually kind of miss it now. Don't worry, my laziness will set in shortly.

...and to all a good night.

So, Jeff and I are busy cooking and cleaning for both our celebration tonight and our brunch tomorrow morning. I hope Max cares more about his presents this year than he did last year when he spent most of the day chewing on a string. This year we decided to celebrate our Christmas eve Feliz Navidad-style with a super Mexican fiesta. I wanted to take time away from spilling crap down the front of me (seriously, I'm on my third shirt today) to wish you all a happy holiday, Christmas, Hanukkah, or whatever flavor you celebrate. Thanks again for reading this drivel and putting up with my antics. You are all peaches and cream.

xoxo

Ho, Ho, UH OH.

So, Christmas is apparently in 3 days. This is according to my 2009 Pacific Island Art calendar but it is not according to my brain. WTF?! Seriously, I can't seem to get my brain to register that Christmas is THIS FRIDAY. Why, head, why? Why can you not grasp this simple concept? I know why. Because I haven't done jack shit about it. I'm even hosting a Christmas brunch here and have I even ordered my ham yet? No. Do I have ANYTHING resembling brunch supplies? No. Have I baked all the cookies I said I would? No. Do I have all my thoughtfully purchased (HAHAHA) presents wrapped in pretty paper under the tree? No. Well, actually I did wrap a few gifts last night in paper that may or may not be holiday related and I wrote the name on it with a Sharpie because I forgot to buy tags. HIGH CLASS. So, basically this all this means I'm going to spend the next two days running around like a deranged psychopath trying to get everything together.

Christmas-1 Me-0

Well played, Mr. Kringle.

Poor Santa.

So, we went to see Santa. It went about the way I thought it would go. Not as bad as the picture above but not great, either. He was fine in line, saying (yelling) "HI" to everyone around us, watching other kids go up for their picture and yelling "CHEESE" but once we got up to the big green chair...well, that's when it fell apart. I tried to sit him down but he had wrapped his legs around me like a spider monkey and was strangling me with my own scarf as he clung on for dear life yelling "NOOOOOO!" The elf lady suggested I sit down with him and they would crop me out so we tried that but that was still WAY TOO CLOSE TO SANTA and he again tried to crawl inside my body. We finally got him to sit for one picture that didn't involve his outstretched, pleading hands or crying face but it took about 5 people yelling "MAX, SMILE!" and a squeaky yellow toy. Incidentally, that's about the same technique that Petsmart uses for their "Pet Pics with Santa" but I digress. The whole thing lasted all of about a minute but he was super pissed off for the next hour or so. He finally warmed back up when he saw french fries were on his dinner plate (it was late, don't judge) so I think he's forgiven me.

Until next year.....

NOTE: Um yeah, I'm using his picture for our Christmas cards so I'm not posting it until they're mailed out and at that point you won't give a crap so imagine the above photo not set in 1950 and with a small Asian boy and not that poor child. That's about how PISSED he was, though.

I hope there are elves. Keebler elves.

So, I've been a bit under the weather for the last few days but tonight I'm packing my roll of toilet paper, otherwise known as hillbilly kleenex (only the best!), and braving the coldness to take Max to see Santy Claus. We saw him for about 2 seconds at the mall a couple weeks ago because I wanted to gauge his reaction so I could be prepared. As we know, Max is allergic to being still and sitting quietly so I don't know how this will go down. I hope Santy has some Aflac or something in case Max goes gonzo on him and tries to debeard him. He didn't seem scared or anything before but he likes to surprise us so I make no guarantees.

I'll post some pics tomorrow (unless you already see them on the news under the headline "Toddler Goes Crazy On Mall Santa.")

Cake Alert

I had two milestone cakes this weekend, one for 40 and one for 50 and next month I have one for a 90th birthday! One thing remains the same, though. People still seem to like a fun cake to celebrate with and that's a good thing.

www.theatomiccakeco.blogspot.com

Gotcha

So, one year ago today, Jeff and I stepped of a Delta airlines flight carrying two suitcases and a very tired little Korean baby boy named Beom Ho. In the adoption world, they call this your "gotcha day." It's not really a birthday since clearly he was already alive when we got him (unless he's been a zombie this whole time in which case the joke's on me, right?), but as LM so elequently put it the other day, "it was kind of a birthday because it was the day Beom Ho became our Max." That is 100% true. That day when we stepped off that plane, it was the first step into our new life and more importantly, his new life. Imagine being taken from your parent and plopped into the arms of strangers who don't look like you or sound like anyone else you know, then boarding a plane to who knows where and being met by another group of people that seem REALLY happy to see you even though you don't know who they are. Now, he was only 9 months old then, and at the time I was like "he won't remember any of this, he's a baby and is unaffected." WRONG. Now I look back and remember how those first few months were so freaking difficult and how I didn't know anything about babies and figured they were all tyrants but all that time, he was probably freaking out just as badly in a different way. He was missing everything he knew and had this crazy woman trying to be his mommy. It's a wonder we all made it out alive. It's also a wonder that in a mere 365 days, he went from that to a fully formed toddler who walks, talks and makes us crazy for him. There are many times that Jeff and I both look at him and are still amazed, even a year later, that he is our kid. Let's take a walk down memory lane, shall we:

Here we are, after 20+ hours of flight, covered in poo, formula and spit up. That lady next to us looks pissed and the one behind is over it already. I just noticed how fresh faced Jeff looks. WTF? Was there a spa on the plane that I missed?? I look like a hot mess. (Dec. 11, 2008)

This was our first night home. He looks as scared as we were.

Christmas 09. He was a gift, indeed.

I remember the cutting of the teeth. Not fun. (January 09)

This was taken the morning of his first birthday (March 25, 09). He looks silly. Because he IS.

At his birthday party in his fancy Korean outfit.

This was his first foray into his EYE-talian heritage, although for full disclosure, I think he's eating Chef Boyardee, not homemade. Don't judge. (April 09)

This was taken in the Spring. He had a lot on his mind that day. He is a thinker. (May 09)

This was the day he officially became our kid. (June 09)

Here he is having his first summer of fun. He still loves to splash around and I predict lots of pool time again next year based on his love of the bath. (July 09)

Summer fun in the backyard with Daddy. (August 09)

The first haircut and apparently his first day as a male model. He is working that onesie. (Sept 09)
How could we forget Godzilla's "bitch, please" face? (October 09)


And that brings us to now. I can't believe how much he's changed in one year. I think if you had asked me a year ago what life would be like today I would have had a much different answer. Kids change every single minute of your life for both good and sometimes not so good, but at the end of the day, we wouldn't want things any other way.

Wellllll, that's not entirely true. We do love our life right now but we have decided that a change is in order. A big change. A REALLY big change. A change in the form of.....another baby!!!!!!!! Yes, we're applying for a little brother or sister for Max. Don't get too excited yet though, we have a wait ahead of us but the ball is indeed rolling and I'll fill you in as we go just as before. I'm hoping for a girl (PLEASE BE A GIRL) but more than likely we'll be getting another son. So, we're off again and hope you have enjoyed this ride enough to join us on another.

Cake Alert

So, I was asked to make a ladybug birthday cake for my friend Erin's daughter. Most of the ladybug cakes I see are a variation on the "one giant ladybug cake" and they're totally cute but I decided to challenge myself to come up with an alternative that was still cute but just a bit more interesting. See what you think.

www.theatomiccakeco.blogspot.com

Brusha Brusha Brusha

So, Max has finally decided he loves to brush his teeth. All we have to say is "brusha brusha" and he runs into the bathroom and hops up on his stool. He loves this so much that when he's done and we have to leave the bathroom, he will throw himself down in dramatic protest. We have to drag him out kicking and screaming every time. While I applaud his attention to dental hygiene, these twice daily tantrums are driving me bananas. Nonetheless, toddler dentures are not an option so we will forge on. Last night we took some pics of him because he thinks he's hot stuff.

As you can see, he's also learned what "cheese" means when he sees a camera. Also see below.





What a weirdo. A weirdo with really fresh breath.

Today will probably not be quite as exciting.

So, do you know what happened last year on this day?? I got our travel call to go get Max. I was sitting at my desk at my still kinda new job and I was depressed because my sweet friend Connie had already gotten her call and I was having a total pity party for myself. I was even listening to my "sad songs" playlist on my iPhone. I can't explain it but even though we waited years and months for this to happen, the last 48 hours of waiting before the travel call were the WORST. I remember my phone ringing and seeing the unfamiliar number and knowing who it was and freezing for a second because I was almost too scared to answer because it was SO EFFING REAL NOW. On the other end, I heard a woman's voice asking for me and telling me she was from Holt and asking if I had time to talk. I laughed this weird psycho squawky laugh that is not my normal laugh and only comes out when I'm wigged out and told her that I would always have time for this phone call and she laughed and said "this is your travel call!" and I squealed loud enough that a few co-workers came by to see what the hell was going on. The rest of the conversation was kind of a blur but I vividly remember that part. The next couple of days were a frenzy of phone calls and packing and double checking paperwork and more packing and freaking out and shopping and having no idea what was in store for me and finally getting on the nicest plane I've ever been on to fly over the Arctic circle to the other side of the world to meet this baby who was going to come home with us. The same baby who is now sitting on his dump truck reading a book and talking on his phone like he's been here forever. I had no idea then that I was down to the last couple days of the old me, the me that stayed out late and slept in, the me who had an office job and wore office clothes, the me who went about her life without worrying about getting home for a nap or whether we had enough milk. Some days I really miss that me but most days I look at him and remember what we've gone through and realize that the new us is pretty okay, too.

Head Wound Harry

So, today was interesting. This morning, things were going as normal. Max was playing around in his room, chasing the dog and talking on his cell phone. I had my laptop on his dresser answering emails when all of a sudden I heard a thud. I looked down to see he had tripped right into the wooden rocking chair frame, face first of course. I swooped down and was all "are you okay buddy?" and he looked up at me WITH A RIVER OF BLOOD POURING FROM HIS FACE. I grabbed him, screamed a slew of expletives and ran to the bathroom. I grabbed a washcloth from the bathtub and held it to his face to apply direct pressure, as I learned from 10 years of watching "E.R.", but the washcloth was too wet and now I had blood and bloody bathwater running down his face and me. When I pulled the washcloth away to wring it out, this HUGE GEYSER OF BLOOD came shooting out of his face. I AM NOT EXAGGERATING. It was like in the movies when they hit an artery and blood squirts out like someone took their finger out of the dam. This was coming from the space between his eyes and was FREAKING ME OUT. There was blood everywhere because he was crying and thrashing around and I was trying to hold him and keep the washcloth on his head faucet but I was also freaking out and crying so I kept dropping the washcloth and it would spray all over like a blood sprinkler. It was on the floor, the walls, the dog, me, him. The bathroom looked like the set of "CSI." This is what his pajama shirt now looks like:



I tried to call Jeff but I got his voicemail and I didn't know what else to do and I know calling 911 is an option, but it wasn't life-threatening and I could tell at this point that it was just a nasty cut and not an exploded eyeball, so I called my neighbor. She ran over and very calmly got the situation under control. She held the cloth on his eye while I ran around frantically getting dressed and explaining the events to Jeff as he drove home to meet me. By the time he walked in, Patty had gotten the blood flow slowed down enough to put on some band-aids, which sadly for Max were the pink Hello Kitty variety, so we headed to the hospital. When we pulled up to the doors, he had totally stopped crying and was pointing to all the ambulances yelling "RUCK!" and occasionally he would say "ow" but that was about it. We checked in and after waiting about 20 minutes, during which time he played with crayons, a race car game and ran around yelling "hi" to everyone else, I thought maybe I had overreacted. He seemed fine and Hello Kitty seemed to be doing it's job so I went to the desk and said "he seems okay now, maybe he doesn't need to see a doctor." The guy took off Hello Kitty and I watched red ooze down his nose. He put another band aid on and told me to go sit down. About 20 minutes later we were in the room and 10 minutes after that, he was glued back together and we were headed home. They opted not to do stitches because of scarring and used some dermabond stuff that smelled like feet. He wasn't thrilled with the process and I had to hold him down on the stretcher while they did it. That was the only other time he really cried. He is one tough mutha.
Clearly, is has not diminished his rugged good looks.

Holiday Treats: Holiday Wreaths

So, this is probably the most popular treat in our house. We can plow through an entire recipe in about 2 days. HAHAHA. Did I say 2 days, I meant about 45 minutes. If I'm feeling energetic, I'll actually form them into rounds and add the red hots in cute holly berry bunches. I'm not normally energetic, so they usually end up as Holiday Bushes With Red Hots Randomly Thrown On In No Particular Order. Anyway, here you go:

CORN FLAKE WREATHS

---

1/3 c. butter
16 lg. marshmallows
1 tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. green food coloring
2 1/2 c. corn flakes
Red Hots

Melt butter and marshmallows in saucepan. Add vanilla, food coloring, and corn flakes. Coat the flakes well. Drop on wax paper in a wreath shape and drop a red hot on each wreath so it sticks on. Let it set overnight.

**Yes, I am fully aware of the fact that these are two giant wreaths and not even bushes. This was all I had the energy for. They're still delicious. Don't judge.

Holiday Treats : Golden Grahams S'mores

So, as I said yesterday, I'm doing some baking this year. Yeah, I know, I bake all the damn time but cakes and treats are very different. Treats are cookies and bars and weird cereal combinations all melded together by the magic of mini marshmallows. Treats are what I ate as a kid, cakes were for "occasions." That being said, I hope you enjoy the recipes, none of which are difficult or obscure or anything so you have no excuse not to join me in my sugar coma.

We were big fans of Golden Grahams as kids and my mom (or maybe my meemaw, I don't remember) would make these as an alternative to rice crispie treats. They are addictive like crack. See, I wanted to take a picture for you nice people but we couldn't stop eating them. My jeans are already tight and this is only day one. I'm screwed.


Golden Grahams S'mores

3/4 c. light corn syrup
3 tbsp. butter
1 pkg. milk chocolate chips (2 c.)
1 tsp. vanilla
1 (12 oz.) pkg. Golden Grahams cereal
3 c. mini marshmallows

Grease 13 x 9 x 2 inch pan. Heat syrup, butter and chips to boiling, stirring constantly. Remove from heat, stir in vanilla. Pour over cereal in bowl, toss until coated. Fold in marshmallows 1 cup at a time. Press in pan with buttered hands or spoon. Let stand 1 hour, cut into squares. Store loosely covered at room temperature up to 2 days.

Monday.

So, it's been quite the week here at Kimchi central. As I mentioned before I went AWOL, Jeff was on vacation all last week, which was REALLY REALLY nice and we're both depressed he had to go back. Thankfully after 7 years of marriage (as of yesterday,) we still prefer to spend the majority of our time together and having him home every day was delightful. I had hoped to have some really awesome stories about our exciting adventures but we ended up having regular, non-exciting adventures like grocery shopping and cleaning things. BRACE YOURSELF. It was a very low-key week but Max got to spend a lot of time out in the backyard playing "ball" and "step in the poop," the latter sadly more than the former. He got so used to Jeff taking him out to play in the morning that today he spent a good 20 minutes pointing to the back door and yelling "OWSIDE?" He forgets who his mom is. I keed, I keed, nature is glorious, etc. He's really been talking a lot, which is cute until he starts to yell which he does more than talk. He will repeat a lot of stuff we say (uh oh) and sometimes he'll just say something and we're like 'how did he learn that?? (also uh oh)" My sister Laura and I ventured out on Friday to try and cash in on all the Black Friday hoopla (not that great) and while we were in Kohl's looking at Christmas ornaments, he was trying to get her attention and suddenly yelled out "WAWA" and we were like holy shit, did he just say that but then he wouldn't say it again until we prodded him the next day. PERFORM ON COMMAND, KID!

We did get to go out sans child once over the week to meet some friends for dinner. It was so nice to be able to have a leisurely, margarita-filled dinner free of squirming toddlers, although the woman at the table next to us spoke at a decibel level that made your brain rattle in your skull so the loudness was still there. Max is at the stage where, despite the fact that we've taken him to restaurants since we brought him home and he should know the drill, he will only last for a short time before he either starts to throw stuff, yell very loudly or squirm out of his chair. He used to be pretty good and I don't know what happened. We went out to eat for Thanksgiving (yes, we went out. To a restaurant. And it was fantastic and there were no dishes to clean and no drama and no random family members camped out on my couch that I have to stick a shoehorn under to get them to leave so don't judge.) and we were able to snag a private room so that when he reached his high chair limit, which he did in record time, we had somewhere to contain him. The waiter was really nice and brought him toys and crayons but they only kept him busy for so long. Is this just MY kid or are they all like this? Seriously. I thought this would get better as he got older. Anyway, I'll give him a grade B- because we were there for a long time and he never threw a tantrum or anything, he was just busy and loud. VERY EFFING BUSY.

One thing we did want to do while Jeff was off was to take him to the Museum of Transportation. My grandpa used to take me there when I was a girl so I have fond memories. Most little girls wouldn't be into trains but he would tell me about working on the railroad so it made it come to life and I liked to pretend I was in times of yore. I wish we still had fancy trains like that, although I'd probably be bored after a couple hours so scratch that. Max seemed to like it and spent the whole time pointing and yelling "RUCK" or "DONGDONG." Anything that is a car, truck, van, etc. is a "RUCK" and a train is a "DONGDONG" and no, the all caps are not redundant because those words are said AT TOP VOLUME ALWAYS AND REPEATEDLY. In fact, while we were in the children's play area of the museum, which for $1.50/hour is a spectacular bargain for indoor kiddy fun time, Max was playing with a train set and another boy came over to use the same toy. He was older but Max knows no strangers and immediately sidled up next to him and began to yell "RUCK" in his ear over and over while showing him the toy truck in his hand. The little boy was very polite and quietly said to him "could you please stop yelling in my ear?" but Max is a wild beast and heard nothing. He continued his verbal assault so I said to the boy in my most sympathetic mom-voice, "I'm sorry but he's still a baby and doesn't understand." He was like "well I'm 4 and I already know that." Oh snap. Let's just say I didn't hush Max after that. Here's photographic evidence of the day:
Hobos.

How dang cute are they? TWINSIES!

He's driving a coal train. He was disinterested.

On another note, it's officially The Christmas Season and I plan on making some treats so I'm going to post my recipes and pics as I go.

Vacation, all I ever wanted.

So, I know it's been a while but no interesting things have happened and I don't want to bore you any more than necessary. We had a rather nice weekend because Grandpa Cliff was SO kind as to take Max for the whole night. We had 23 glorious hours of freedom. We stayed up late playing Wii and eating apple pie AND we slept until 8:30am Sunday. That is epic, people. We went to lunch at The Blue Owl in "historic Kimmswick," which was all decked out for Christmas. I felt like I was in the movie "Groundhog Day." It was really trippy. There were men in top hats driving carriages around and Christmas music everywhere. The restaurant is all granny-rific and serves stuff like meatloaf and quiche and the waitresses all wear what Mrs. Caroline Ingalls wore to cook dinner in. They also serve delicious desserts and we came home with a tiny apply pie. Well, I say tiny but it was about 7 inches tall. That's their schtick, the tall pie. I kept calling it the Mile High Apple Pie and that's how I ordered it but then I realized it's called Knee High Apple Pie and I got it confused with the Mile High Club so the waitress probably thought I was some perv. Whatever, the pie was delicious. On our way out of the little town we stopped in the Christmas HAUS (we applied a thick fake German accent to this word in the car and it makes it fun to say) and I bought a miniature silver chandelier ornament. It's so cute it's sick. SICK.

We headed back to civilization (I keed, I keed. It's a lovely place.) and ended up eating carryout on the sofa watching "Pearl Harbor," which is one of the most ridiculous movies I've ever seen. And it's long. I could have flown to Hawaii and gone to the memorial and come home in the time that thing took. I think the robots in "Transformers" has better acting training than the entire cast of this dump. We worked off our dinner playing Wii like 12 year olds (I kicked his ass) and then we passed out at 2am. 2AM! I haven't voluntarily been up at 2am in almost a year and I felt it (and 1/2 a bottle of wine) this morning. Ooph.

Jeff's on vacation all week (HOORAY!) so I'm sure I'll have something interesting to post about soon.

Cake Alert

If you like farmers and/or cake, and who doesn't, check out:

www.theatomiccakeco.blogspot.com

We'll call him Ralph now.

So, on Sunday night, after a weekend of drama that shall go unnamed, Max woke up crying. It was about an hour after we had put him down. I was doing some cake sketching and Jeff was computering when we heard him crying. He's a vocal sleeper so noise is not uncommon, but this was actual crying and it raised my eyebrow so I went in to investigate. I opened the door and he was sitting up and as I got closer, I saw a dark mass in the bed with him. He was pretty upset so I clicked on the light to see that he had barfed up his entire dinner all over himself and the bed. The last throwing up episode we had was when he was still on formula and formula puke is more like "spit-up," which is still gross and smells like hatred but it's pretty easy to deal with. However, this was Big Boy Throw Up, complete with entire pieces of pepperoni pizza. I seriously have doubts that this child actually chews and digests his food because, well it looked like it did on the plate. Poor Max was sitting there with throw up all down his PJ's, in his hair, on his feet and all over his blanket. Not to mention the huge pile on the mattress. He was obviously upset so I stripped him down and took him to the bathroom to clean him up. Jeff was left to clean up the bedding because that's how I roll. I have a severe aversion to throwing up, which was made worse several years ago after I saw a clip from a throwing up porno. It was so disgusting that I was unable to eat a Taco Bell bean burrito for about 5 years because that's what I was eating when I watched it. For the record, I wasn't actually watching the throwing up porno (not that I have a problem with porno or anything but this was SICK) but someone sent me a clip from it. I don't like throw up or seeing people throw up or hearing someone throw up or anything regarding throwing up so I wasn't too keen to clean up the bed chunks.

I got Max all cleaned up and he seemed okay, sleepy and sad looking, but okay. I figured that him going back to sleep was a one in a million chance at this point so I started cleaning off the bed in his room for myself. Jeff was holding Max and was trying to soothe him when all of a sudden he's like "HOLYCRAP" and I turned to see Max blow again. He missed Jeff's mouth by an inch (so gross). Now, instead of running to the kitchen or the bathroom to hold him over the sink or tub, he held him out so he was barfing on the carpet. Well played. I grabbed a towel and threw it down but by that point it was too late so we began cleanup, round two. I had given him water after the first round, which was a mistake, and this was the water cycle. I looked down and saw something red and yelled "HE'S THROWING UP BLOOD!!" and Jeff was like "um honey, it's just pepperoni." I'm cautious. Anyway, we got him situated and I took his temp (normal) and gathered my stuff so I could sleep with him. I use the word sleep loosely.

We all know how much fun sleeping with Max is so we set up a giant pallet on the floor so we all could share in the fun as a family. Jeff abandoned ship at about 2am but I stuck it out until 5:45. The floor here is hard and this child insists on sleeping perpendicular to whoever else is there so you either have a foot in your side or a hand slapping you in the face. I got about 7 minutes of sleep. I thought this illustration would give you a better idea.He didn't throw up again but I was all SWINE FLU ALERT and took his temp about every hour yesterday. He ate normally, pooped more than normal but never threw up again so I'm going with the theory that he ate something that didn't want to stay inside him. I began to mentally list what he had eaten over the weekend and it should be no surprise he was barfing all over. Since Friday night he ate, in addition to his regular stuff, jalapeno potato chips, fried and regular dill pickles, mini burgers with welsh rarebit and obviously, pepperoni pizza. He is a connoisseur of fine foods, DON'T JUDGE. Anyway, the moral is that he's been fine ever since and I made it through my first big barfing episode without contributing myself. That's love, people.

Boy in the Box

So, not only do we have ghosts but we have a serious case of weirdo. See exhibit A:
No, I don't know why he likes to walk around his room with a storage tub on his head.

The Ghost In You

So, I wasn't going to post about this because I was afraid talking about it would make it worse and open some ghostly portal or something but everything has been quiet since so I'm going for it. I like to live on the edge. I'm also going to drink milk that expired yesterday so LOOK OUT. On Friday night, I had another "encounter". After we put Max to bed around 8, Jeff told me he was going to run back up to work to do some kind of computer nerd stuff for about an hour. He left about 8:15 and I proceeded to work on my cakes for that weekend. I work in what used to be our dining room but is now the world headquarters for The Atomic Cake Co. (ha ha), unless we're having company in which time it returns to it's natural dining room form. Our home office opens into the dining room and has two very old and creaky French doors (see picture above). I say it's our office but it's really just a room filled with too many art supplies, computers, out of season clothes, a potty chair, etc. It used to be a bedroom and when my Meemaw was with us, it was her room. Anyway, as I was sitting there working, I heard Zoey scratching at the gate at Max's bedroom door. This isn't really unusual because she's obsessed with his room for some reason but it pisses me off because she always does it right as he's going to sleep and she won't stop until I make her.

I walked around the corner to tell her to shut up and noticed that she was acting stranger than usual. She was kind of walking around in a circle in front of his room and when she saw me, she ran up to the gate that closes off the dining room from the rest of the house because I have a strict no dog and no kid policy at my fake cake shop. She was VERY persistent at the gate and not in a "I NEED TO PEE RIGHT NOW" kind of way but more of a "MOMMY HELP ME" kind of way. I realized she wasn't going to back down so I relented and allowed her to get closer to where I was. For the record, I was NOT working on actual cake at this point, just some fondant sculpting. Anyhoo, she immediately walked right over to the French doors, sat down and stared at them. They were both closed and the light was off. Now, her food container is stored in this room as well, and she knows that, so I wasn't surprised she went there. I went and sat back down with my back to the doors to finish my work. About a minute later, she came darting under my chair. Correction, she FLEW under my chair. I stood up and was like "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM DOG?" and as I did I turned to see that one of the French doors was now open. It was open about a foot. This was not good.

I stood there frozen for a second because I had personally closed the doors myself a few hours earlier when I had to go in there to fill up her food bowl. Yes, that means her food is in that room so yes, the dog would want to get in there and would probably push the door open herself and has when the door is already ajar. This is all true. However, when the door is latched shut, you have to turn the knob really hard to open it because it's an old door AND it makes a rattle when you turn the knob. You don't go in this room quietly. Furthermore, had she been able to get in, she would have just gone in and snooped around for rogue kibbles, but instead she was cowering under my chair like we were in the throws of an epic thunderstorm. I went into the office, turned on the light and told the air to "GET THE EFF OUT OF MY HOUSE." I slammed the doors shut and walked back to the table to finish my work, proud that I had properly yelled at nothing. I only sat for about a minute before I was overcome with fear. Yes people, real fear. I turned around and I swear that I felt like someone or something was in that room looking at me through the door. It was so overwhelming and scary that I called Jeff and was CRYING on the phone to him (no I had not been drinking. Ok yes, I had ONE pumpkin beer but I'm not that cheap of a date and this shizz was real.) He was like "are you joking?" when I demanded he come home but I was NOT JOKING and was now standing in the corner clutching the phone crying and unable to turn my back on the room. This sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was TERRIFIED and knew that if he wasn't coming home, I was scooping up the sleeping kid and the dog and getting in the car. I could not stay there by myself any longer.

I stayed on the phone with him until he pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, asking "where are you now?" about every 6 seconds. He was so sweet and talked to me the whole time, giving me a play by play of his trip home. I cannot explain it other than I felt this huge surge of fear and I couldn't stop crying and I am not joking when I say I felt like the room was staring at me. When he walked in, I was so relieved and as quickly as I felt scared, I felt calm again. Jeff was not thrilled that I made him come back because he didn't get to do anything he left to do, but I am so glad my husband knows his wife is insane and will come home when I'm scared that the ghost that he doesn't believe in is going to get me.

Cake Alert!

There's no place like home.

www.theatomiccakeco.blogspot.com

Cake Alert - Halloween Edition

Head to www.theatomiccakeco.blogspot.com if you aren't too scared!!

Godzilla vs. Halloween

So, Saturday was Max's first REAL Halloween, considering he was only 6 months old for it last year and I don't even know if they celebrate it in Korea. I should google that. Anyway, we don't ever stay at home on Halloween because no one every trick or treats in our neighborhood because you just never know if you'll get a Snickers or a half-smoked Camel Light. Her neighborhood is suburbia ground zero and has lots of kids so I knew he'd have fun. All the grandparents, along with LM, my other sister Jessica and her boyfriend and my brother's parents all came out to see him in action. It was quite a show to see all these adults going nutso over one little kid and he sucked in every little bit. Spoiled??!! OF COURSE NOT.

We started the festivities with a pizza party so everyone could relax and chat and play with Max before the morphed into a frightening creature. Here he is showing us how bored he was with what we had on TV. He apparently was not interested in football or CSI. He was interested in showing off his mad skillz on the GEE-tar. He loves Auntie Laura's guitar and since she let's him to whatever he wants, he gets to play it. I decided to celebrate the occasion with a cake (shocking, I know) and brought along a spooky ghost.

Finally, after we had all eaten and waited until the sun started to sink, it was time. Soon, we were invaded by the ferocious lizard monster hybrid known as GODZILLA.I don't think the real Godzilla wears an Old Navy dragon costume but SUSPEND YOUR BELIEF. I also don't think Godzilla wears ratty old Airwalks on his mutant feet but I digress. We were worried that the costume wouldn't last since he didn't do so well on the dry runs at home, but surprisingly he kept it on the entire time. It was so freaking cute. Here he is sassing it up from the back:
GODZILLA IS NOT AMUSED. He was kind enough to sign some autographs for his grandpa Larry, though.

We brought the wagon with us and soon me, Jeff, Auntie Laura, LM, Jan, Cliff and Godzilla were headed out to rid the neighborhood of it's candy. It was quite a scene. Six adults walking around with one little lizard monster hybrid. Here he is attacking grandpa Cliff.
He wasn't sure what the hell was going on and when we went to the first house he tried to go inside, but after the 3rd or 4th one, he kinda figured it out and when we would leave the house, he would run squealing down the driveway clutching his glowsticks. Between houses he rode in his wagon because his costume was kinda front heavy and he would occasionally topple over face first. Overall it was a huge success and we can't wait for next year because he'll be older and I think he'll know what's going on a bit better and have even more fun. I'm also looking forward to thinking up his next costume because I probably only have one more Halloween before he has an opinion on it AND we're doing a group costume. Look out world.

The Ghost Whisperer II: Electric Boogaloo

So, what did we hear last night just as we were falling asleep? THE EFFING GHOST IN MY HOUSE, that's what. It was about 10:30 and we were in bed and Jeff had just started to doze off and I was enjoying an episode of The Golden Girls when we heard a bang. We both looked at each other and he was like "did you hear that?" and I was like "OF COURSE I HEARD IT, OUR HOUSE IS HAUNTED." He darted out of bed again and I followed but we were unable to locate the source. I've lived here for almost 9 years (Jeff's been here a year longer) so I know the normal noises our house makes. The pipes bang, the dehumidifier kicks on at odd times and the furnace is always groaning but these are more like bumps and bangs, which are CLASSIC GHOST NOISES. Jeff was all "maybe it was the neighbor taking their trash out or something outside?" but no, it wasn't. This noise came from inside our house, I am 100% sure. I'm here all day long and I know the difference. If it had been a trash can being dragged to the curb, it would have been a dragging noise, not a bang and why would they be taking their can to the curb last night when trash day is tomorrow?? The REALLY bizarre part is that every time we hear a ghostly noise, the dog does nothing. Nothing. Not this time and not the snack ball time. Does she not hear them? Is she THAT lazy that she can't bother herself with pursuing ghosts? Who knows. We'll see what happens tonight.

Ghost Whisperer

So, my battle with the paranormal spirits inhabiting my home continues. Yesterday, about 15 minutes after I put little Kimchi down for his nap, I went to the kitchen to make my lunch, which was a Lean Cuisine fettuccine carbonara. I had left a message for my sister to call me and just as I was poking the required hole in the plastic cover, the phone rang. I grabbed it, stuck the food in the microwave, hit 3 minutes to cook and went into the bedroom. Max's room is literally right outside the kitchen and for some reason he will sleep through our smoke detector going off (true story) but if I talk on the phone at any decibel level higher than a low whisper, he'll wake up. It's uncanny. Anyway, I went into the bedroom to continue my conversation, which lasted approx. 15 minutes. My plan was to have cooked my meal for the first 3 min and then stir and cook for another 1 min 30 sec. That's how a real gourmet cooks. Don't let anyone fool you. Well, as I wrapped up my call and started to make my way back to the kitchen, I realized that the microwave was still on.

I repeat, the microwave was still on. It should have been off for 12 minutes at this point.
And it was counting down from 59:58. That's 59 minutes and 58 seconds. WTF?!!

Now, before you start in on how I MUST have programmed it for the wrong time, know this. I would have had to have manually set it for about 75 minutes when I put my dinner in, which is WAY different than the 3 min I pressed. There was no magic button to add an hour. Now, I vaguely remember the dinger going off at some point but I can't be 100% certain. Either way, it had to have restarted itself for at least one hour. This microwave is fairly new and we've never had any kind of problem with it before and I use it almost every day. By the time I got my fettuccine out, it was totally black and had melded with the container. I never once smelled it burning, or obviously I would have run in and stopped it, which also totally freaks me out. I'm sure you've all smelled burned popcorn but this had no smell at all and after 15 minutes it should have REEKED. I still have no clue as to how long it was actually in there but clearly it far exceeded the time on the box. This whole thing freaked me the eff out and so I did what anyone would do, I called LM. She's been doing some research on our house because it's super old and clearly haunted. We didn't find anything too juicy, no bodies under the floor or anything so we've naturally assumed that it was my Meemaw this whole time, which didn't scare me because she would never do anything to harm us and if anything, she would be here protecting us. Now, I'm not so sure. LM agreed that this was a very strange occurrence and as anyone would, she started to try and explain it logically. Maybe the microwave is on the fritz? Maybe, but it never happened before and hasn't happened since. Maybe I set the timer wrong and didn't realize it? This would be probable but I SWEAR that there's no way I'd mistakenly hit 75 minutes instead of 3. What would I ever cook in a microwave that would require that long of a cooking time? A freaking turducken, perhaps?! No, there isn't anything.

We agreed that yes, there has been enough evidence to safely assume that someone or something is in here but as she pointed out, it seems to be friendly so that's a good thing and I shouldn't be too worried. Um, no LM, cooking my Lean Cuisine so long that I needed to carbon date it and possibly starting a fire in my kitchen IS NOT FRIENDLY. This shit is on.

Cleanup, Aisle 7

So, I haven't written in a while and you wanna know why? Because I've been at the grocery store. I am not kidding. I've been to the grocery store SIX TIMES since Saturday. What do I do that requires SIX trips to the store? I have a very serious problem and require professional help. I've been to the regular store three times*, Trader Joe's twice and Sam's once. The best part of this and I do mean the BEST part is that I just realized about 15 minutes ago that I'm out of milk and paper towels.

*it was actually 4 times to the regular store, because on trip number 3, I realized after I parked that my wallet wasn't in my purse and, after a mini-meltdown because I was convinced that I had dropped it at Qdoba and that someone THAT VERY MINUTE was stealing my identity but in fact it was on the floor in Max's room all alont, I returned for trip number 4.

Well hello, Monday.

So, we had quite a nice weekend here. The trees are starting to turn purty colors and it's chilly enough to wear a jacket and we know how much I love a good jacket. What I do not love about this time of year is having to listen to people moan about the weather. Guess what? We live in the midwest, not the South or the West coast and you know what that means?? IT GETS COLD HERE. Surprisingly, it gets cold about the same time every year. You can almost plan on it. They're called seasons and yes, lady at Macy's yesterday who complained loudly on her cell phone for 10 minutes about how FREEZING it was yesterday (it was in the mid-60s), it will only get colder until spring, when (wait for it...) it gets warmer again. The same woman was also trying on leather boots (try wearing those in July, beyotch) and had a fur vest on. A fur vest? What the hell does that do? How is that warm? Do you add the sleeves when it drops below 50? Why were you wearing this and yet your daughter was wearing shorty-shorts with knee socks, Uggs and a sweatshirt. Did neither of you talk before you left the house? Do either of you employ a mirror, perhaps? Sigh. This is what I get for shopping in the burbs. Confusion.

Jeff was the best husband yesterday (well, he is every day but especially so this weekend) and not only made me delicious ribs, but he also kept an eye on our precious cargo during football so that I could go run errands in peace. I also went out on Friday night with LM and Mary to see Paranormal Activity AND grandma Jan came and watched Max on Saturday so we could both go out. Last week sucked around here and this was all very much appreciated. FOR REALS. Sometimes you just need a breather.

Cake Alert

This has been an unusual cake week. I've had three cakes that were all the same concept. That never happens. I tried to make them all unique and I hope they liked them.

www.theatomiccakeco.blogspot.com

Seriously, kid? We're doing this again?

So, as I mentioned earlier, Max was sick last weekend. His illness was short lived though, and we haven't seen the evil fever fairy since Sunday evening. He had no other symptoms of anything, no snotty nose, no cough, no weird pooping, nothing. I kind of went on the assumption that since the fever was gone and he was acting normal, all was peaceful in the land. Well, all was not peaceful in the land. On Sunday night, when we tried to put him to sleep, he threw a super epic meltdown. It was Defcon 7 red alert. We started at 7:30, his normal bedtime. He went down fine and as soon as the door closed, he unleashed it. This tantrum began as shrieking and screaming followed by some howling and then yelling, all mixed with tears and that noise you make when you're crying really hard and you can't get your breath. I was concerned. 11 minutes later, he was still wailing away. I had gone in once to tell him that it was nighty night time and that he needed to go sleepy and he seemed fine with it and laid down. Again, the minute the door shut HE FREAKED OUT. We let it go for a bit, went in, tried again, rocked him, gave him a drink, promised him a car, you name it but nothing was working. Finally, at around 9:30, I told Jeff that perhaps we should try the old "drive around and let them fall asleep" method. He had to be so tired and at this point he was fighting it just to fight it so if we could just get him to shut his eyes, we might be in business.
We drove around for about 20 minutes, during which time he laughed and pointed at things out the window, until he had enough and started to fuss. He was nowhere near sleeping and we were pretty much screwed at this point. I brought him inside and as soon as we entered the bedroom, he turned into jelly bones and tried to escape my arms. I put him in the crib and once again, he went bonkers. I finally said screw it, grabbed him and my pillows, kissed Jeff goodnight and went in to sleep in the twin bed in his room. He spent the first 15 minutes talking to me and trying to play with my glasses. I must have said "go to sleep" 50 times. He finally relented and we both dozed off. This lasted about for about an hour. I spent the rest of the night trying to harness the small bolt of lightening next to me.
The next morning I called the doctor. I explained about the fever and his fussiness, but she wasn't too concerned since he didn't have anything else bothering him. She said that if he was still fussy that night to call back. I explained that it wasn't that he was fussy, it was that he was downright refusing to sleep. Something must be wrong. She said to keep an eye on him. Lovely. The rest of our day was pretty normal, he took a decent nap and seemed only moderately crabby. I happened to talk to my neighbor about her son, who had also been up with a fever over the weekend, but his turned out to be strep throat. I told her that Max had no other symptoms and she said her son didn't either. WHAT?! The only symptoms were crabbiness and decreased appetite. Max hadn't been eating as well as he normally does so I was sure that was it. THIS EXPLAINS IT ALL! I decided to call the doctor again the next morning and assumed he was still sick and took pity. That night we had the same meltdown at bedtime so this time Jeff slept on the floor with him while I took the twin. Jeff said he woke up at 4am to find Max wandering around his bedroom. He was like "MAX!" and he turned to him and said "hi dada!" He said it took him about 20 minutes to get him back to sleep. I took over on the floor at 6 and miraculously, we both slept until 8:15.
So, this morning I took him to the doctor. She did the swab and came back 5 minutes later to tell me that he was 100% fine. No strep. In fact, she said everything looked totally fine. I was like "but the sleeping, WHAT ABOUT THE SLEEPING?" and she said that maybe he just decided he didn't want to go to bed anymore. OH REALLY. Then I realized something. I have a toddler. I have a terrible two. This is just......him. Shit. The doctor patted him on his cute little head and said she was sorry he was going to have a bad night. No truer words were ever spoken.
Tonight was no different, except that I didn't have the fear of sickness softening me up. I didn't want to make him cry it out if he felt crappy because that's just mean. But he isn't sick so guess what? He cried it out. He cried the hell out of it. He's STILL crying it out and it's been 40 minutes but the crying is intermittent and then he goes back to sleep and that means I won.

This round, anyway.

**UPDATE**
He finally fell asleep around 9p and we did not hear a PEEP from him until this morning when I went in to wake him. Yes, I woke him up because of course I had super freak out that he was quiet for bad reasons but no, he was just sleeping. Like a baby.

Cake Alert

Two cakes this weekend. Both pretty dang cute. Check it out, yo.

www.theatomiccakeco.blogspot.com

It's the great pumpkin Charlie Brown

So, we took Max to the pumpkin patch this weekend. My mom had suggested it since I don't think of these fun kid things and don't recall having ever gone myself. It had rained for DAYS prior so I figured the place would be a muddy disaster and I was pretty much correct. There were giant puddles and mud streams everywhere and like a moth to a flame, Max was instantly drawn to them and spent most of his time trying to get his shoes as dirty as possible. The pumpkin patch had all kinds of cheesy displays with dressed up mannequins (The Wizard of Oz, really? How is this Halloween related?) and graveyards with zombie hands trying to dig their way out, but he wasn't really interested in those. He did like the chickens and stood in front of them yelling "BOK BOK" and he was excited to ride his first pony. Okay, WE were excited for him to ride his first pony, he got on and looked at us like "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" but once Jeff got him comfortable on it, he was fine.Look at meeeeeeeeeee.....I'm RUNNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These zombies are not scaring me, lady. I'll show you scary.

The pony however, was the world's largest rip off. It was $5 per kid and they went around in a 20 ft circle FOUR WHOLE TIMES. It was over in about a minute. When they stopped it, my mom was like "wait Jeff, it isn't over" and the old man carnie running the ride was like "it's over" but either she didn't hear him or wanted him to hear her so he might one day realize he's running a total con, but either way, she said it again and he repeated "IT'S OVER, LADY!" so Jeff finally pulled him off. The other parents were throwing their money at this man like a hillbilly stripper and he was happy to take it and give them a half-ass pony ride. Well played, sir.
Um, what the hell did I do to deserve this? What is this thing?

Yeah, I've been riding for years. My next go round will be side-saddle. Lady, give the man another fiver and hand me my crop.

Aside from the ponies, he was pretty much too little for the other attractions. They had some bouncy things that I figured he would get crushed in and a little tiny train that went through the corn fields. He was really interested in the train, but as we stood and watched, Jeff and I agreed that it would come back minus one and I wasn't in the mood to go child hunting. He would probably have thrown himself off like a hobo who found his stop. They had a few playgrounds scattered around so he was pretty happy just to swing and slide.
"WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
We finally made it to the pumpkins and while I don't ever buy pumpkins, I decided to go for it since we were there and all. I sent in my trusty pumpkin analyst to get the pick of the litter.
Hmmm...this looks like a good one.Let me give it a good thump, just to make sure.
Plane. Um, where was I.....Let me go ahead and get this for you, ma'am. Yep, I'll just pick this one up....Here you go. Lemme get this to the car for you. HA! He's strong but.......I was really holding it.

So, we sharing this cab fare or what? If not, you're gonna have to get out.
So I told her I wasn't paying $2 for this water. I mean come on, it's WATER. Ya know? You're awfully quiet. Is something wrong? You can tell me.

After we left, we went to grab some lunch with grandma and Maxipoo wasn't really having it. He was super fussy and I'm sure the waitress was glad to see us leave so she could clean up the chicken fingers that now littered her area. I knew he was tired because he had gotten up at 5am (really kid? REALLY?) and hadn't had a nap yet. We got him home and in bed and spent the rest of the day puttering around the house. Jeff and I had planned on some wine and perhaps a movie that night, but Max had other plans. About an hour after I put him to bed, I heard him crying. Really crying. This is unusual at this point so I went in and he was BURNING UP. I took his temp and it was almost 104! I called the DR and all we could do was try and give him something to reduce the fever. He didn't seem to have any other symptoms but I was still all HOLY CRAP SWINE FLU. We tried to put him back down but he was so fussy that he kept waking up so we finally put him in bed with us and tried to sleep. He's like a 10-legged donkey when he sleeps so Jeff and I were pretty much up all night with him. His fever lasted on and off until Sunday evening, when it finally stayed down around 100. He seems okay this morning and so far no fever so maybe it was some weird 24 hour thing. Who knows. Maybe it's the pumpkin flu.