my blonde logic

18 days for Winter Break, YES I Said 18!!!!

I would like to apologize for not counting my blessings.  Apparently the holidays are supposed to be filled with love and family and friends.  I don't have enough bars in this area, I missed the call that the magical fairies will be in charge this year.  I have reality service.

The first week of break was filled with holiday parties, cookie baking, latkes, candles, presents, family events, and play dates.  All of these activities take their toll.  One by one we all went down.  Thing 1 went first, then Thing 2.  It was when my overload lead to the flu, that was the end.

I knew it was coming, fast and furious.  I was too exhausted to fight the powerful flu.  As I crawled to the couch and planted myself there, Thing 1 and Thing 2 gathered around as if they were looking at the new exhibit at the zoo.  We have never seen this before, what do we do?  Thing 2 brings me a blanket, pillow and stuffed animal.  I spend the day drifting in and out of consciousness.  Suddenly, during my dazed state, Thing 2 puts a thermometer in my mouth.  As this is a very sweet and nurturing gesture, I suddenly realize that she has put the anal thermometer in my mouth.  I am awake and freaking out, I know where it has been.  Thing 2 grabs the thermometer starts crying and drops it on the floor.  Of course it breaks, hopefully the mercury will not affect my performance on Broadway.
If I were Lindsay Lohan I would have been sent away for exhaustion and pampered at some spa.  Instead I get to lie on the sofa and have an anal thermometer in my mouth.

We venture to Florida for the last week of "vacation".  I end 2008 with my final meal at the Grand Luxe, the fancy version of the Cheesecake Factory, in the MALL.  Is this really how I will say goodbye to 2008 next to the oxygen deprived, yes it is. 

Our stay in Florida is very predictable.  Not Zac has to go to the Mall every moment he can, only to be side tracked by the opportunity to visit the new Super Target.  Final answer, Super Target isn't so fabulous.  As with anything there is a level of routine, the kids get popcorn that's too salty, Not Zac looks at the C9 shirts and I check out the new designer for Target bags.  It is relatively exciting for city folk who don't get to do this very often. 

We spend hours at the pool, eat frozen yogurt religiously, visit the local Hibachi restaurant, and the kids don't seem to need sleep.  Oh, all good things must come to an end.

We begin our journey back to the Big Apple.  We board the brand spanking new Jet Blue airplane.  I no longer travel with DVD players and movies just headsets.  We love jet blue, cartoon network can get us to New York without any whining.  We sit in rows 8 and 9.  The plane it ready to take off, our TV's don't work.  Not Zac and I begin to panic.  Out of all of the rows and all of the seats, ours falls into the 4 rows that do not have working TV's.  This can't happen, we don't have a back up plan.

Not Zac discovers 4 seats in the back, only 2 of them are together.  Thing 1 and Thing 2 are now sitting by themselves, next to an unsuspecting gentleman.  I am sitting in front of them and Not Zac is in a row on the other side by himself.  All is well, but I don't realize until later that Thing 2 has had 3 cans of Apple Juice.  Have I mentioned that Thing 1 and Thing 2 have a tendency to get a touch of motion sickness.  Suddenly the gentlemen taps me on the shoulder to alert me that Thing 2 is vomiting all over the place.  Ok, I can handle this.  I clean her up, settle her down and return to my seat.  Then I get another tap, Thing 2 has sneezed out a weeks worth of chlorine.  The gentlemen gives her a tissue.  I thank him profusely.  I settle back down, then suddenly I get the tap again.  Thing 2 is vomiting again.  Is this man a glutton for punishment?  I know I have a middle seat but does he really want to sit next to my monster that is spewing form her orifices? 

We finally arrive back in the cloudy dreary NYC, YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!  It's good to be home.  The first day back to school was awesome!!!!!

The Holidays are Sucking the Life Out of Me!!!!!

How is it something can be so wonderful for some and so much work for others?  Thing 1 and Thing 2 think that this is the time of year is the best ever, as it should be.  Here in Mom-ville it is our busy season, this is the big league.  Only a seasoned professional can survive with only a few melt downs (I don't mean the kids). The kids love it all, decorations, parties, the traveling, and of course the presents.  What they don't understand and no kid does, is that this magical time of year is carefully orchestrated.  I started preparations the day after Thanksgiving.  Dates, menus, guest lists, the works.  I spent 2 hours cleaning eight nights of wax off of 6 menorahs.  Why 6 menorahs?  God forbid anyone should share, and you have to be prepared for guests. Why didn't I do this last year?  After eight days, I was so over it.  Chanukah is the ultimate Groundhog Day holiday.  For eight nights you light candles, open presents, make thanks you calls, and eat Latkes.  Sometimes it even goes on longer.  We relive it when we visit Grandma.  Chanukah has the power to transcend all confines of the calender.  Yippee more stuff for the spoiled children.  I'm sure that the intentions of the Maccabees when they defeated King Antinochus was, wouldn't this be a great way for kids to get stuff.Food is very much a part the Groundhog Day festivities.  For some of our Christmas friends it is ham and egg nog.  For the Jews it's Latkes.  These fried bundles of love, are quite challenging to say the least. Thing 2 is very upset that we are not making our own, I order them.  He made them in class and just doesn't see what is so difficult.  Well for starters I don't have 18 children peeling a billion potatoes and grating onions.  I also don't possess a clean up crew that will be cleaning oil off of the kitchen cabinets for the next 4 months.  

I remember my mother shopping in august for the holidays so she could avoid the rush.  She was a brilliant orchestrator.  Times were different back then, they didn't have super duper coupons.  It is the temptations of the sales that send me to fifth avenue one week before Christmas, fighting the tourists buying snow globes.  Martha Stewart was no where to be found.  It was a simpler time back then, dip in a sour dough loaf was so innovative.

As a mom, I long for the days when dip in a pepper was special, and could count on the ugly sweater from the aunt that didn't realize you weren't six anymore.  Those days are long gone, they have been replaced by over functioners just trying to get by.

Holiday Fashions, Always Interesting

There is something mesmerizing about observing  holiday traffic.  Puffy coats and Uggs galore dot the canvas of mom jeans and mustaches.  Not Zac and I were in Grand Central meeting Boris and Natasha for drinks.  Grand Central is amazing, the light show starts tomorrow, definitely a sight to see.

Grand Central is a people watching mecca, there are representatives from all walks of life making their way through this historical landmark.  Some of my favorite sightings are those of the backward backpack tribe. The exact origin of the species is unknown. The species is indigenous to "out of town", a group of people that all decided to wear their backpacks across their chests. It is thought that this must be their defense against the evils of the big city. 

We are enjoying our glasses of wine amongst the continuous ever changing people, we even see a couple taking wedding photos, I thought second marriage.  I  spot what I clearly identify as a member of the tourist species.  This male member had decided that a great place to put his baseball hat was inside his pants.  If I recall correctly a baseball cap is worn on the head, putting into the back of your pants seems mildly unsanitary.  Really, your only option was to put your hat was in your underwear?  His parental unit was carrying one of those Mary Poppins bags, shouldn't she help out. At some point this person from a random place will put that hat back on his head, good stuff. Please don't sit "tushy hat" next to me!

I think that the level of common sense seems to depreciate as the holidays approach.  Only 24 days 'til X-Mas, yippee. 

Why Go Homemade on Turkey Day?

Everyone I know is scurrying around trying to locate that oh so special season spice, strange vegetable or perfect napkin.  I have heard the phrase pumpkin spice used more in one week than in a lifetime.  I have no idea what or how you use it, apparently it is a necessary Thanksgiving ingredient. 

As I stood in the cinnamon scented William Sonoma once again, an apron clad happy face approaches me very carefully as if she sensed my trepedation.  I question apron lady about the cranberry sauce, it has apple and orange, she said its great.   I don't even know how you begin to make this, I have memories of the cylindrical shaped jello like substance that had the can formed into it.  It is a place I don't want to revisit except in my memory.  By the way, I also noticed the infamous turkey brine.  Did anyone bother to mention there are 3 different kinds and require you to start 48 hours in advance.  That would have been a very unwelcome surprise, today (Wednesday). 

It is the only holiday that we all share together.  Most people I know refuse to go off island on Thanksgiving.  For us the declaration came a few years ago after a 3 hour drive to New Jersey.  Never again.  Where are you going or who are you having.  Everyone covered, all is well in the universe.  After my "bird" preparation was ripped from my capable hands, thank you very much.  I have shifted my focus to side dishes.  I have once again been practicing them for weeks, I'm ready. 

Ready, not so much.  In the past week my drying machine broke, I have laundry everywhere.  My shower doors fell off, there are towels and water all over my bathroom.  Thing 2 spilled orange Gatorade on the carpet and covered it with a table, now it is really set in yippee! This is not the time to start home improvements.

I also realized with all of my roasting practice I forgot to include, stuffing and potatoes.  Whole Foods her I come.  I tackle Whole Foods like a pro, the recycled bag carrying patrons won't slow me down.  I know I am on borrowed time since I can only handle the chaos of being organic and green for so long.  I still don't understand the $8 peach.  Goal achieved, with only a minor headache, nothing a cookie tasting won't cure.

As I prepare for my In-Laws arrival, at 8:00 am, I hope I don't forget the cranberry sauce.

Have a great holiday, may the force be with you.

e.l.f. cosmetics, the Ultimate in Recessionista shopping

It doesn't get any better.  This is the answer to the holiday shopping woes.  Put away all of your homemade preserves, ugly crochet tissue box covers, and bags of crap. 
The is the ultimate Recessionista solution.  e.l.f., eyes lips face, has cosmetics and accessories priced the way they should be.  Cosmetics and brushes for just $1, no way.  There is an entire line of eyebrow lifters and fillers, each $3.  I myself have gotten sucked into the Anushka eyebrow kit for a mere $50, $3 looks a lot better literally and figuratively. 

I didn't believe any of it, until a friend couldn't stop raving.  I don't always believe magazines and Oprah, I believe my people.  5 lip glosses for $5, what a great gift!  There are always specials, definitely check in regularly.  The makeup cases are so cute you can use them to go out to dinner.  I've already placed my order, but I'm not telling it would ruin the surprise.  By the way, in case you were wondering, I love lip gloss and could use a new makeup case. 

You don't have to worry about size or shapes, there is something for everyone.  It sure as hell beats homemade salad dressing. 

Recessionista, The New Fabulous

The big topic of conversation, wherever you go is the recession.  Everywhere you look there are suggestions on how to save during these financially challenging times.
I'm with ya.  I love my Anya Hindmarch, for Target bag.  My bag is peeling a smidge, I can make do.  There are tips for the holidays for everyone to save, save, save! 

One article in the Post compared 2 versions of a holiday dinner, to sum it up, its cheaper to make your own pie than to buy one.  Let's see, I may have saved $10 on the pie, but it took me three hours to make the homemade crust, peel a gazillion apples, and clean up the whole mess.   From my own personal pie experience, it's not as economical as they say.  If you make pies on a weekly basis then they are right.  If you make a pie a year then you are so in the "pie" hole.  What they didn't focus on was the tiny detail of making every single thing from scratch requires that you start cooking the day after Halloween.  The do it yourself cooking thing just sucks the life out of me.  If you are so concerned that the pie will blow your budget, assign it to a guest, problem solved.

The next article focused on gifts.  My favorite suggestion was, make your gifts.  Everyone loves a homemade preserve or salad dressing.  Really, I can only imagine if I started handing out good seasons salad dressing, with the coordinating carafe.  Nothing says happy holidays like homemade condiments.  This isn't little house on the prairie and Mrs. Ingel doesn't live next door.  I was thinking I should start growing fruit in my bathtub, so I can get a jump start on my preserves for next year.

Maybe, I can re gift the god awful pastel swirly bowl that I got for my bridal shower.  Unfortunately the only person I can think of to give it to, gave it to me.  Back to the drawing board. 

Back to "Turkey" Day

Apparently my attempt at cooking a bird like item has had a bit of a ripple affect.  Ideas and offers for tutorials have come flooding in. 

The first suggestion was a turkey bag, not exactly sure how that works.  Apparently, there is this magical bag that to me looks like a giant ziploc. You shove your turkey into a (not yet taxed) plastic bag and wha lah, perfecto.  I didn't have much faith in the bag, it doesn't mention seasonings, or some random rubbing thing, it tells you to put flour in the bag.  Ok, you put flour in the bag.  Does it go in the turkey, on the turkey, or around the turkey.  Way too many gray areas, and the picture is a cartoon.
Next suggestion was to brine the turkey.  No idea what that means or entails.  Apparently this is where the tutorial comes in.  This procedure involves a trip to the ever faithful and thoroughly intimidating, William Sonoma.  My last attempt that involved William Sonoma nearly poisoned the family.
Another suggestion was from my mother, she told me to order a turkey from the caterer.  Normally this would be my automatic go to.  I figured that since the entire country makes a turkey, or at least millions of people do, why can't I.

A few days after the bacon turkey incident, Not Zac and I are out to dinner.  We are at our local restaurant, Sharz.  She usually caters a part of all our holidays and dinner parties.  Not Zac proceeds to tell her that I wanted to make a chicken instead of a turkey.  He tells her this as if I have committed a mortal sin.  Excuse me, since when is the actual type of bird so important?  Do we only give thanks in front of a turkey, are we not as thankful in front of a chicken?  Is the sacrifice of one living creature over another not significant?  He then asks her to make a turkey for us.  Ok, thanks a lot.  There is no appreciation for my hard work or research.  What happened to, you get what you get and you don't get upset?  That tried and true statement has turned into, I get what I want.

As it stands now, our turkey is ordered and set to arrive early Thursday morning.  The powers that be can rest easy knowing that we will make our contribution to the turkey sacrifice.  All hail the turkey farmers!

Happy "Chicken" Day

I would like to dedicate this to my wild turkey friend from Central Park.

Thanksgiving is closing in at lightning speed.  I am very aware because I found myself face to face with the Holiday department in Bloomingdale's.  Everywhere I look, Halloween witches have turned into Santa's and their sleighs.  I have even seen the Chanukah shelves come to life. 
Now have have to get my Thanksgiving game on.  There is one little problem, I have never made or even purchased a turkey.  I make an executive decision, chicken.  It's like a turkey just smaller, isn't it?  Have I mentioned that I have only made a whole chicken once, and my mother helped.  If nothing else I don't have to wake up at 5:00 am to start cooking the thing. 

My in-laws are coming for the holiday.  I have cooked for them a few times and haven't had the best success.  I actually feel really bad, they do put on a brave face.  I think they probably pray that we are going to order pizza when they visit.  They are very gracious even though I may have bordered on the uneatable a few times.  This time will be different, I will succeed!

First thing, which chicken recipe do I use?  In the William Sonoma catalog there is a recipe for a bacon wrapped roasted chicken.  As Ted Allen says; "anything wrapped in bacon is better".  I agree.  Bacon wrapped chicken it is.

I have my chicken, I am ready to go for a practice run.  I follow the recipe exactly, I wrap the bacon around the sacrificed bird, just like the stylist did.  Did I mention that touching the whole chicken makes me gag.  In the oven the bird goes, fingers crossed. 

I am about 50 minutes into project chicken, the fire alarm goes off.  This is a pretty regular occurrence when I use the oven.  No fire, just lots of smoke.  Now the entire apartment is going to stink for days, yippee.

The thermometer says that the chicken is done.  Fabulous, game on.  I start to carve the chicken, something doesn't quite look right.  Is it done?  The thermometer said so, it must be true, why would it lie.  Well folks, part of it was, part of it wasn't.  I'm so used to overcooking chicken that I initially thought this is what it should look like.

Thank god I did a trial run.  It didn't look like the picture and it didn't have the yummy bacon taste, at least the cooked pieces didn't.   Back to the drawing board, hopefully no one got salmonella poisoning.

Any help would be greatly appreciated.  Maybe I should leave the game farm and look in the meat department.  What's the worst that could happen?  If its undercooked I'll throw some melon on the plate and call it carpaccio.  People pay a lot of money for uncooked meat, this is probably safer for all those concerned. 

It's The "Great Pumpkin"

Two weeks ago we were invited to a pumpkin carving party.  This seemed simple enough, the kids can hang out, eat candy, and carve a pumpkin. 

We didn't have to spend an entire Saturday searching through some god forsaken pumpkin patch.  We did that once, spent a fortune on a pumpkin and it died the next day.  Organic shmanic, it needs to survive to the big day.  

The kids were soo excited, I'm happy its only 3 blocks away.  Any event that involves the car is never fun, us city folk have a bit of a motion sickness issue that has plagued us since forever.
It's time to get down to brass tax.  The kids are getting antsy, they want to carve their pumpkins.  Finally, the carving begins.  Within 2 minutes the only child up to the task is a nine year old girl.  The rest are all adults.  Not Zac has the ability to make anything into a competitive event.  He takes great pride in the fact that he can outrun Thing 1, our 8 year old. 

While using a stencil, I might ad, Not Zac carves his version of Dances With Wolves.  He declares, "my pumpkin is awesome, have you ever seen a better pumpkin?"  Mind you there was a 9 year old in the home style carving competition, with no shame he said his was the best.

A couple of days later I see a Dad on his way to school to carve a pumpkin in Thing 1's class.  How great that this Dad took time out of the work day to carve a pumpkin in his kid's class.  I tell Not Zac, he turns to Thing 1 and states "my pumpkin was better than his, right!" 

I can't believe you are competing with a pumpkin you haven't seen.  I don't see you going into the kids class and carving a pumpkin.  Not Zac's reply is, "I don't have to, I carved the best pumpkin".  Once again the big picture is lost on Not Zac.

Dances With Wolves is now a distant memory.  It lives only on Not Zac's iPhone, ready at the touch of a button to be emailed to all.

J-E-L-L-O

What would you do if a 150 year old, 90 pound, Jewish Grandma offers you a jello mold.  Would you take it or would you tell her nah, not right now?

If you're Not Zac you would make the little old lady holding the shovel sized spatula over the 24 inch diameter jello mold on her original platter from 1950, wait.

Grandma asks, "who would like some jello mold?".  Everyone immediately responds, ME.  All but one, Not Zac.

Like a tsunami hitting the shore, each guest urges Not Zac,  "take the jello mold!!!!!!".  Down at the other end of the table, Not Zac  continues to eat his brisket in concentrated bliss.  In typical myopic Not Zac style his response to generations of onlookers is, "I am not ready for the jello mold".  With all the strength in her 4'8" body, Grandma holds the spatula over the jello mold uttering to those around her "what, he doesn't want my jello mold". 

All 18 guests at the table are sitting with their giant lump of jello mold, moving it around on their plates, praising Grandma for its deliciousness.  All but one, Not Zac.  As Not Zac's mother used to say;  "he will do what you want, he'll just do it when he wants to do it".

Finally, Not Zac is ready for his serving of the jello mold.  The entire table breathes a sigh of relief.  You couldn't take it before Grandma had to harness the power of a super hero in order to prop up her arm over the mountain of fruit filled jello, waiting for his Highness to get around to partaking in the "holy mold".

He looks up from the mound placed in front of him proclaiming; "the jello mold is good".  As if we were all waiting for Tom Collicio to give the final comment. "Grandma, I thought the flavor was there, yet I was confused with how it related to the other items on the plate."

Cousin Ruthie questions his Highness, how could you make her wait?  Not Zac; "at least I actually liked the jello mold!"