Jello

When I say Jello, this is what I mean. No descriptors need apply. Capital J-e-l-l-o. I just ate a giant slab of it and I am so sure you wish you were me. This Jello is so powerful, Thanksgiving really won't happen unless it is made. *Poof* Last Thursday in November = GONE.

Now, a word of warning: This recipe contains cheese. If it oooges you out too much, just leave it off. But it gives such a nice texture and savory pairing to the sweet cream topping, you will be totally missing out. Also, you are strictly verboten from calling it Jello. Come up with your own name. No cheese? No Jello. The great and powerful Oz has spoken...

Jello

1 can apricots
1 can crushed pineapple
1 6 oz orange jello box
2 c. boiling water
1 c. combined fruit juices (from canned apricot/pineapple, may need to add just a bit of water to make this come out to a full cup.)
1 bag mini marshmallows

Dissolve jello in hot water and add 1 cup of fruit juices. Combined juice and water = 3 cups. Add pineapple and roughly chopped apricots. While jello is liquid, add mini marshmallows until there is a single layer over the top. They float! Refrigerate overnight. I use a rectangular tupperware container that is a bit smaller than a 9x13 baking dish.

Topping

1/2 c. sugar
3T flour
1 egg
2T butter
Tub of cool whip
1 c. combined fruit juices (from canned apricot/pineapple. NO WATER. Just Juice. Please.)
shredded cheddar cheese

Combine sugar, flour, egg, and juice in a small pan. Boil stirring continuously until pudding-like thickness. Add butter and stir until melted. LET COOL to room temperature and mix with tub of whipped cream. Taste. Die.

Spread topping all over set jello. Then, sprinkle on about a cup of shredded cheddar cheese. Cut into squares! Serve!

Just one more thing. Do you know what is awesome for making Jello or any other kind of jello? The Keurig. Hello, instant hot water, baby! Nice. Tell me if you decide to make this, ok? Or if you think I am monumentally bonkers. Either way, really.

Sausage Casing

So, my high school reunion is this weekend and I am planning to go. By myself. Honey would rather be on another planet than socialize with people I knew in high school, so I am allowing him to stay home and parent the children. (Dubious call on his part, wouldn't you agree? Three boys could very well be worse than socializing with strangers.)

I am kind of nervous about it and am having to do a lot of self-therapizing. I am very proud of my accomplishments thus far. I feel successful, I have an advanced degree, a nice home, a happy marriage, three beautiful kids...and every single pound I gained in the last pregnancy still on my body.

Yes, I am scared of Going While Fat.

I weigh 80 pounds more now than on my high school graduation date. So that pretty much sucks. So, since I lack of time to do something about it (plus I have promised myself that I wouldn't diet until the baby is weaned...even if he decides to nurse until he is two...sigh), I would go try to buy some clothing that might make me feel more comfortable. And I did find a beautiful long purple dress with a little sweater that is very very pretty, but it does not disguise anything about my figure. I did buy the dress. The dress makes me happy. It is beautiful. I will probably even wear the dress to the reunion. I just need some shoes...

Anyway, in a fit of determination, I decided to go to Penney's to try on...control garments. I picked out a couple of likely candidates. A body suit thing with a space cut out for the boobs to frolic freely (or for you to wear your own bra.) A pair of short-type things that you pull up clear to your boobs in the style of spandex Urkle. And another number, that was more panty-like, but with the waist cinching-hook-contraption.

I brought my selections to the petite salesperson and asked if I could try them on. She waved me freely towards the vacant dressing rooms. As I shut the door behind me, I heard her come it. She said, "Oh honey, be sure to roll them down and then step into them! If you don't you will be yanking and pulling..." I thought I understood. She didn't want me to harm the merchandise. I said, "Oh yes! I wouldn't want to stretch them out." And she laughed at me. "No, honey. I don't care about that. But if you don't roll them down you are going to get tired and sweat!"

After disrobing, I could see what she meant. I jerked on the first one and felt like I was literally stuffing handfuls of myself into it. In my head, I could hear Scarlett 'fiddle dee deeing' whilst she was being squeezed into her underwear. When I looked in the mirror in all my squished glory...I couldn't tell the difference. So I did the most logical thing I could think of: I put my clothes back on. And STILL couldn't tell enough of a difference to warrant a $60+ undergarment. Plus, it was not what you would call comfortable. It was stiff, like someone coated me in glue and let it dry. I felt not unlike the pinata in Skippyjon Jones that would, at the end, explode sending toy chihuahuas and jelly beans flying.

In the end, I didn't buy it. I drove home giving myself a pep talk about how I am more than how I look. About how wonderful my life really is, how lucky I am. About how I am smart and capable and successful and kind and that, rather than my jean size, determines who I am. If people want to look at me and see something else...screw 'em. I didn't need them then and I don't need them now.

It's all true, you know.

Confessions

Devan had a great post today about being imperfect. In a move of solidarity with all of you who may be less than perfect, I shall make some confessions as well:

• We've lived in our house for 6 years. I have vacuumed my bedroom exactly twice and boy, can you tell.
• My laundry room has a back door in it and the clean clothes get stepped on and piled up. We just shake them off and put them on. No folding necessary.
• I have a really hard time giving my children equal 'face time'. Someone, usually Jelly Bean, always gets left out.
• I have grand dreams, (clean house, well groomed yard) but am too lazy to make that happen. So I fuss at my husband to make what I want come true, so I don't have to do it.
• I worry that I am such a crappy mom that my children will grow up to hate me...or become Republicans.
• I let my children eat far too much sugar...sometimes I wonder if they have eaten anything even marginally nutritious all day.
• I don't make my kids do chores.
• I am so good at identifying a problem and creating a solution. I SUCK at follow through.
• I have terrible fashion sense. I worry people look at me the way I looked at my mom when I was a kid. Like, "what is she thinking???"

The idea of embracing all this feels oogey to me. I'm not proud of any of it. While perhaps not in the spirit of coming together in all of our imperfections, I am going to list some good things about me so I feel better.

• I am very creative and good with my hands. I am a good crafter and a good cook.
• I can make up songs off the top of my head. Mostly silly ones to sing to the kids. When I am happy, I sing loudly.
• I laugh loudly.
• I try really hard to listen to my kids and be sympathetic to them. I think I am good at this the vast majority of the time.
• When I get a project at work, it not only gets done, it gets done well. I kick ass at my job. I am passionate about what I do.
• I cut my kids'/husband's hair and it looks pretty good.
• I am a pretty good gardener.
• I am easy to talk to in social situations. I smile a lot. While I don't usually feel confident, I am excellent at faking it. :)