Mali turned 20....she came over last night and we celebrated a bit. Pizza (a vegetarian one for her with olives, red and green peppers, and onions. She has been a vegetarian for five years now.), and salad. It's funny to think that when I had Mali, I was 28 years old. Seven kids, and 28 years old. A year younger than my oldest daughter is now.
Mali was two in this one, when Sam was the baby. I was thirty then, and had half of the kids I would eventually have, not including Robert:(.
Mali was a cute little thing. 
We HAVE to include a pic of Duke and Suri. Mali took this last night, after she covered them up nicely for their nap. She had put the princess Snuggy on Suri then called them for a treat, and we laughed our heads off as Suri padded across the floor wearing that pink Snuggy. 
Then a phone call from this guy, my little Sammy. Private Samuel J. W., now, although ha, I definitely still think of Sam as this sweet little boy. He is now at his barracks, ready to start boot camp. He only had like 30 seconds on the phone, but said all of his mailing info would be sent to us, and that he loves us and misses us. And that was it. We probably won't hear from him for a while, but we ARE planning one heck of a trip to see him graduate in June. I am proposing that all of us that can go down there, taking two vehicles if we have to. He would be so happy to see the the little girls...and Jon...and all of us.And, I have been sick. Functioning sick, as per usual. Know what I mean? I did take a mega nap on Thursday afternoon. I had taken Kathryn to the library, and kept feeling really sick, like I was really going to be sick to my stomach, and I had a headache. I managed to get through Target and the grocery store, kept feeling blah then fine....then got home and slept for three hours. Of course I was wide awake at bedtime, so I read an entire library book. Then yesterday, again, felt blah. I took another mega nap, then managed to clean up the house and make the birthday cake, while Suzanne and Kathryn made the pizzas.
I don't feel horrible, just blah-ish and yucky. And, today is Monster Jam. Monster Jam is ridiculous, but we (our church) run a concession stand there. The Carrier Dome is filled with dirt, and those huge noisy trucks race around, kicking up dust. It's a sad day for people like me, who take the money from the poor people who seem to cash their paychecks and blow it all on over-priced junky food. They aren't allowed to bring their own food in, so they have to buy stuff. Some of them seriously don't know simple math, and demand to know why it adds up to so much, while others simply look shocked that three bottles of water add up to $11.75. I know, I know, it's a free country, and if people want to waste good money on one day of fun, so be it. But I can't help thinking how much good, healthy food these people could buy for the amount of money they spend. And believe me, this is a different crowd than we get at sporting events. More guys with dirt under their fingernails and the greasy spot on their hat where they adjust it. More people that need dental work, kids that don't have Under Armour jackets. I just hope they have lots of fun and really enjoy it all, although for the life of me I don't understand it. (I realize this sounds really snotty, and I don't mean it that way. I love people, and enjoy the interaction with them, I just am trying to be truthful. The day just makes me sad.)
But off we go today, Paul and I and Joseph and Emily and Abigail and Margaret...to work at Monster Jam.
My throat hurts. I would like to go get back in bed for another one of those mega naps, but, alas, we are short handed, and I can't just not go today. I will take a few ibuprofen, and hopefully be fine.
Camille is doing better today, normal temperature finally. She is still rather subdued, not bouncing off the walls yet, and her hair...oh, what a rat's nest! She hates having her hair brushed on a good day, but when she was sick, she refused. So now we have a major detangling event on our agenda.
There is birthday cake out there on the table, with my yummy homemade buttercream frosting, and it is not calling me, it is SCREAMING my name. I am ready to go scrape the whole thing into the garbage. I escaped without even a taste last night, but what good is that if I go out there and eat the rest of it, little by little, every time I pass it?:) I made some of the frosting peanutbutter, and I know it must be heavenly on the chocolate cupcakes....but I will NOT even taste it. Nope. When I don't feel well, my excuses are pretty darned good, but they are still excuses. I made two eggs this morning, and steamed a bowl of broccoli, eaten together....healthy, but come on, it's not pancakes! Oh well, feeling good is better than eating food that is bad for me. Right? Perhaps I will make a slice of that yummy Food For Life raisin toast....(I didn't get any money for saying this, but that is GOOD bread, the Ezekial bread and the raisin stuff...made from sprouted grains, gluten-free...) It's five dollars a loaf, but if you keep it in the freezer and make it last, it's worth it.
8 comments:
Just as you hope people don't judge you for your large family, please try not to judge those who enjoy Monster Jam. This struck a nerve with me. I come from a hardworking, greasy family and married a hardworking, greasy man. Watching those awesome trucks race around the track is a fun entertainment for us. And it's a treat for our kids to eat that food, while enjoying healthy food the rest of the time. We don't cash a paycheck just to attend. My husband may look greasy but that's because he owns a trucking company, which allows to own multiple homes and be 'snowbirds' in our late 30's. Sorry for my snotty reply. You know I read every word you write and enjoy your blog.
Why is it spelled Molly on her cake? I love that Ezekiel bread, too! It makes such good toast.:)
Hope you feel better soon!
Valerie
Glenda, you're right. I seriously don't mean to be judgemental. It has bothered me all day, what I wrote about Monster Jam I have nothing against hard working people, either. My own father worked for the county sewer plant his whole life, and three of my brothers followed in his footsteps. It's hard to explain, but sometimes I just feel so bad when I see these families spend so much money there. Perhaps they have much more than they seem to, I don't know. They sell slushies for $15 each, and one family today bought three. It kind of makes my heart ache. So consider me sorry for being snotty, and I truly appreciate your truthful admonishment. :)
And Valerie: back when I started this blog, a few of my daughters had some issues with me writing about them, so they asked me to write their names differently on the blog. Mali is Molly, Mirielle is Mariel. The rest had no problem with it.
If you don't mind sharing, what's your buttercream recipe?
Just Me: A few years back, one of my friends asked me for my recipe. I said, "Well, you take a hunk of shortening...." A hunk?! How big is a hunk? Never mind.
To frost this small cake and the dozen cupcakes, I used a "hunk", which I am guessing is about 3/4 cup, then a half stick of butter. Creamed together, then added a 2 pound bag of confectioner's sugar, some real vanilla, and half and half, or you can use milk, whole or whatever you have. I add the milk just a little at a time, so I can get the right consistency. Sorry this is so vague, it's what my mother used to make and she never used a recipe either:) The good thing about it is you can taste it as you go, adding more of whatever you think would make it taste better....:) I added some peanut butter to some of it, and made the yummiest creamy peanutbutter frosting for a few of the cupcakes. There are still a few out on the table, rrrr! They are haunting me.
I hope you feel better soon.
Agh! I sure came across rude and I don't know why I responded so critically. I apologize! Thank you for being so polite to me.
Seriously, Glenda, I do not think you came across anything but truthful. I seriously repent for being so critical. When I mention the guys with dirt under their fingernails, I don't mean that I despise them, not at all. I just mean that my soul just gets all sad and bothered when I see them there buying the junk. The more I think about what I wrote, though, the more ashamed I am of it. I don't want to judge people. The thing is, any one of those people would probably be one of my best friends if I talked to them. So thanks for speaking up, I need to think a bit more about what I say, and really judge my own self more.
And Martha, thank you, I am feeling better today, better enough to function and go out and about...but still not 100%. I would like to go to bed early and sleep and sleep and sleep. But hey, wouldn't everyone? My head is just aching these days, sinuses or fighting off a flu, I don't know.
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