Category Archives: Home & Kids

Off to Oklahoma to meet the Pioneer Woman

Well, for those of you that I haven’t called while screaming hysterically or who haven’t seen my facebook update, I might as well tell you: I am going to the Pioneer Woman’s house this weekend. In fact, I will shortly be on my way to the airport, to a plane that will whisk me away to a magical place in Middle-of-Nowhere, Oklahoma. A magical place of cooking, chaps, cows, and no traffic noises.

The Pioneer Woman had a holiday baking weekend giveaway, inviting 4 lucky gals to her house to be fed, drink coffee, feed the cows, learn about baking, and sleep in.

Among those lucky gals are longtime friends Jennifer and Ann. After checking out their blogs, I can’t wait to meet them in person.

Prior to this I had never won any lottery-style thingamaging in my life . . . but I had a little itch when I entered, and even thought to myself, “man, if I win I have to make sure I can make it back by Sunday night” (for that gig at the Red Line Tap). Then I told myself “This is ridiculous. Don’t even worry about that–it’s not like you’re going to get picked! Not with those crazy odds! Heck, half of the female population in America is entering this giveaway!”

But the itch persisted.

I was comment #16,128, and I was picked. From about 40,000 entries. With only 4 winners, that was a 0.01% chance. If you’re having trouble even believing the words that I’m saying to you (I’m having trouble believing them myself), you can check out my name emblazoned for the world to see on her “holiday baking weekend winners” post.

I found out on Friday November 5th, and my first reaction was honestly to start laughing hysterically. Thankfully my boss wasn’t in the office to witness the insanity. I laughed for about 15 minutes, on and off, with tears in my eyes. I also screamed multiple times. I had to verbally instruct my own self to calm down. Then I called my sister, called my Mom, and texted my other sister (sleeping soundly in Alaska).

Ree allows everyone to bring a guest, so I’m taking my Mom with me, since Heidi will be too pregnant to fly in from Alaska, and Erica’s husband-man gets deployed that same month . . . for a year. Incidentally, this is why we’re voting for the P-Dub to do an army wives weekend. So Erica and Heidi can go.

Leading up to this weekend, I’ve been having the craziest dreams. In one of them, Ree had a heavy Eastern European accent and a smoker’s voice, and told us she was going to die of cancer by age 49. I immediately started crying, and realized that her blog would now go from a happy, cheerful place, to the diary of a dying woman.

In another dream, I kept trying to take pictures of the sunset on the ranch, but my camera’s memory card was malfunctioning and didn’t save any of my amazing photographs.

In yet another, when we arrived at the guest lodgings, there were cats, mice, and other animals everywhere, and there was a pile of cat poo in the shower. Oh, and a dead mouse had been skinned and gutted by some cowboy in the middle of the carpet. Thankfully in this dream I had the sense to bring my Mom and Erica and Heidi, and they promptly cleaned it all up for me.

I don’t want to sound like a crazy obsessed fan, but I love this woman. I love her humor, I’ve cooked (and loved) over 30 of her recipes (seriously, I’ll make you a list some day), I learned the rudiments of photography and Photoshop from her, and I’ve admired her site for over a year. In fact, it was her blog that taught me what a blog even was!

At this point, baking isn’t my forte. But after this holiday baking weekend, and after absorbing the magical skills which will undoubtedly be in the air, I should be set.

Just look at the sinfully delightful things she cooks up. I dare you not to salivate.

The cry that has been ringing in the back of my mind for weeks now betrays the fact that I am a girl, through and through:

But . . . I don’t have anything to weeeeeeeeaaaar!

I will be blogging all about the experience, make no mistake.

*both photos courtesy of thepioneerwoman.com

10 fears about mothering and pregnancy

While leafing through the family photo albums my Mom so generously left at my house for an undetermined amount of time, I was able to put 10 fears to rest that have been lurking in the back of my mind regarding mothering and pregnancy. I thought I’d share them with you today, so that you can see how I’ve managed to overcome them one by one.

1. I’m too young to have that kind of responsibility

Well, my dad was practically a minor. Just look at him:

OK, he was actually 28 or 29, but seriously folks–does he look a day over 16?

2. My house will become overrun with child paraphenalia

Not necessary! I slept in a cardboard box.

I was bathed in a trash can.

I guess I don’t need a ton of stuff for my future babies–I mean, they don’t even know the difference between their fingers and their toes, much less between a fancy bathing apparatus and a brown trash can. My parents kept their house very free from self-multiplying plastic objects, and I find that inspiring and relieving. Phew!

3. My schedule will be chained to the sleep schedule of my child

My parents simply put us to bed wherever we happened to be. Like at a concert. Hey, they were musicians, and we had to adapt.

There’s my Dad running the mixing board. I think this was in Japan, and I’m looking a little spaced out. Apparently they kept a blanket by the mixing board, and when it was my bedtime simply put me down on the blanket where I peacefully entered dreamland. Children are more adaptable than I would have imagined–and they can adapt to me as much as I can adapt to them.

4. My house will become an uncontrollable mess

Well, if I follow my Mom’s philosophy I will simply put my children to work. I mean, all day long I worked the family’s farm . . .

. . . and then I got home, tied my tresses up in a bandanna, and got ready to give the house a good shake down. My Mom didn’t take any excuses–here she is saying “Alright Jenna, don’t come back until all the curtains are laundered and pressed!”

She didn’t even care that I had just laundered and pressed them, like, two days ago!

While the house was my responsibility, the birth of my sister Erica fulfilled the vacancy for groundskeeper and chauffeur.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah Dad–just take the dang picture and let me finish washing the car.”

I’m so glad to know that I too can simply train my children to do all my work for me, while I sit on the couch issuing orders, drinking coffee and nibbling on scones.

5. I will become frumpy and hideous

This picture of my Mom was taken when I was almost 2 years old.

Yes, my Mom is a classy broad. Here she is again with her two sisters (she’s on the left), around the same time:

That classy lady second from the left is my grandmother:

I have inherited genes that indicate frumpyness may not be in the cards for me. Or if it is, my extended family will whip me into shape so as not to disgrace their name. I have historical evidence for this claim: Aunt Jessie was put on frump alert many years ago, and was immediately forced to the nearest beauty salon to fix the issue.

She tried to resist, but she was no match for her determined mother, the one wielding the cane. It’s nice to know that I have the kind of family who stamps out frumpery and beautifies you even against your own will.

6. If I have daughters, they will steal my shoes and clothes at the earliest opportunity

 

OK, well, that may happen. But nobody seems particularly upset about the arrangement, as I see it.

 

7. It’s so hard to travel with children that we will never go anywhere

Well, here are my parents in San Francisco . . .

. . . and in New York City . . .

. . . and my Mom in Japan, with me in the stroller and Erica on the way.

These are just a few pictures of the many I could have included showing them in places like Florida and Niagara Falls, with small children in tow. Being in a band, travel was part of their life menu. And if they could do it, dang it, so can I!

8. My children will yell and scream

Well, my childhood pictures prove that it’s possible to have a 100% fuss-free kid. I am always smiling, always cheerful, with a surprising maturity for my young years. My good attitude from birth forward created a very peaceful home environment.

Yes, I was a perfect child and I expect no less from my future children. Calm, wise beyond their years, and zero whining.

Hey wait! How did that picture sneak in there!

Someone’s gonna get fired over that slip-up.

9. Once you have them, they’re with you all the time

If I choose to follow my parents’ example, I can simple pack my child up (with packing peanuts for safety–don’t worry) and ship them off to the nearest baby store, Attn: Returns Department.

As long as you print off your certified baby return label, it should be easy as pie. Then, when you feel like having that baby again, you simply go to the pick-up counter and retrieve him or her. Couldn’t be more simple.

10. Baby stress will cause untold marital tension

My Dad once said that having kids has provided them with the funniest moments in their life. They have never laughed together more than over one of us and our ridiculousness. Instead of driving them apart, raising us three girls has brought them closer.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for doing such a great job and providing a solid photographic record that I can return to for inspiration, encouragement, and ideas.

                                                               *************

Now it’s time to talk about the one fear I haven’t been able to shake or disprove. It’s something I’m really having a hard time even thinking about. It may be the source of regret, frustration, and physical discomforts untold:

The fear of not being able to sleep on my stomach.

I mean, I’ve been doing it practically since I was born.

And I don’t think there’s any way of getting around it . . . unless I buy a special mattress with a hole in it. I just have to decide if this final concern is a ‘make it or break it’ moment in our child-bearing plans. Wish me luck as I try to make a wise choice.