Mud Pies and Such

So, I am a (horn tooting warning) pretty darn tooting (see, I told you) good cook, if I do say so myself. I cook most nights of the week and we rarely have anything from a box, bag or freezer. We rarely eat out because I cook better than what a restaurant serves, in my opinion, and in the opinion of my ever-loving family, and it's healthier. But, I have a failing in the baking department. I have a few recipes I shine at and then I get a big, fat, stinking F, an F- even. I'm terrible. It doesn't stop me from trying.

We bought something like nine flats of raspberries at Costco this week. It's an insane amount of raspberries (although I eat a pint a sitting) and I decided to make tart. Damn those stiff peaks. DAMN them straight to hell. I should know by now that if a recipe says "beat until stiff peaks form," I should just turn the page and try something else. These are decidedly NOT stiff peaks.

In other news, Collin found a mud puddle at the park today. He had a blast. He did not enjoy the strip down and hose off in the front yard. It wasn't the nudity so much that bothered him as the ice cold water. Although before nap he said, "Mommy, I think I like mud still, even though clean up is no fun." That's my boy. And no, that grainy appearance of the photo is not a bad picture, that is all filth; filthy hair, dirty face, it was IN his underwear.

We've also made some decisions lately. We will be renewing our passes again next year for that happiest of places on earth, despite the fact that the little guy will need his own pass next year and there is no "child's" pass that is cheaper. Grrr. The following photo explains why we'll do it anyway. Any questions?

We've also made some investments lately. Collin is currently obsessed, and I mean in a neurotic way, with Buzz Lightyear. If Buzz were real (shh, don't tell Collin), he might need a restraining order on my child. He just got his first Astro Blaster. This means that my new name (and Bryon's) is Zurg. Go ahead, call me that, I'm used to it. I'm thinking of putting it on my driver's licence. I spend most of my day "dead," then being reanimated so I can be "killed" again because, to Collin, it's no fun for Mommy to simply be lying around dead all day (I somewhat disagree). I think he needs a firmer grasp of what "dead" means.

We've also bought P90X. Mommy is thrilled. Daddy, not so much. Mommy was going nutty not being able to workout as hardcore as she normally does (read: no running allowed STILL), so she talked Bryon into buying it for her. Yeah, it's as insane as you've heard, more so. I talked Bryon into doing it with me and he's a little irritated. Bryon is one of those skinny guys who eats like a garbage disposal and works out only if you poke him with a rake...in the eye. In other words, he's annoying. When he found out pull ups were involved and that it was, you know, hard, he was ready to check out. After the first four days of pretty much being wheelchair bound with muscle fatigue, we are recovering nicely and it's actually a cool workout. Collin calls it dangling and we keep catching him stealing the pull up bars from under the bed. I guess there are worse things to catch your son with from under the bed than pull up bars, eh?