The $15 Grilled Cheese

So, it is Restaurant Week in Washington, DC which means that some of the top restaurants in the city feature a few of their dishes at prices that we common folk can somewhat afford.

It is also the week that all 3 of our babysitters chose to go on vacation.

Husband was adamant about going out to dinner - even if we had to bring the children - because his buddy Darryl's mother is in town and we just had to meet her.

And he was right. Everyone should have the privilege of meeting a woman who managed to hold her life and the lives of her young children together after her husband, a clerk in a New York liquor store, was gunned down in a robbery. She is an amazing, funny, kind, big-hearted woman. She is also a school teacher for the Department of Defense School System in Japan, so the opportunity to meet her may not present itself again. I am so glad we went.

So, husband and Chocolate Love picked a restaurant (The Oceanaire) and husband even called ahead to make sure it would be okay to bring the kids. He was assured they would accommodate them and the chef would be happy to prepare something "kid pleasing."

Our waiter was great. He treated the children like little adults - allowing them to place their own order (as long as it was grilled cheese), listed condiment choices and gave them several choices of dessert. He was sure to ask them if they would like their water glasses refilled whenever he did the adults' glasses.

And, the consternation I felt in the days leading up to this little outing was all for not. My children were fabulous! They used their manners, said "please" and "thank you" and "sir" and "Ma'am." Reagan asked the waiter "May I please have some ketchup," when he forgot to bring it with their meals.

The girls were so charming that several members of the wait staff stopped at our table to chat with them and tell us how well-behaved and adorable they were.

I have never been prouder in my life!!

The food was fabulous. Obviously, the girls had grilled cheese. And fortunately the waiter only wrote down one order for the grilled cheese platter which was actually two sandwiches with shoestring fries and more than enough for them to share. They each had a scoop of ice cream with chocolate sauce and extra cherries for dessert. I had Caesar salad, grilled Salmon and chocolate pave for dessert. I also had a Lemon Drop in honor of the Friend in Washington's birthday.

Then in honor of Darryl and Bridgette's 10th anniversary, the restaurant provided a wonderful Baked Alaska. It was the first time I had ever had Baked Alaska and it was wonderful.

Then we got the check.

Our meals weren't too bad because of the special, though we wouldn't normally spend that much for dinner.

Husband and Darryl had early on placed wagers about the price of the grilled cheese. Darryl was very close with his guess of $12. It was $15. Thank goodness the waiter had the presence of mind to only order one for them to share.

We won't even talk about the cost of the Lemon Drop. I'll just say it is a good thing it was especially strong.

One of the best things

about parenting a 3-year-old and a 4-year-old is that they often tell on themselves without realizing it.

Just before dinner they were yuking it up about how they threw tomatoes over the fence. They thought it was hilarious.

Daddy - planter and cultivator of the tomatoes - did not.

And bedtime was early tonight.

Nudist colony

There is not a Barbie, baby doll or stuffed animal with a stitch of clothes on in this entire house!

There is an Exhibitionist Barbie around every corner! There is even one on the kitchen table. Lord, help me!

St. Francis lost his head... again

We have the worst luck with St. Francis of Assisi items.

We had a beautiful concrete statue of St. Francis when we lived in California. Somehow, this statue standing over 2 feet tall and weighing about 35 pounds just fell over and broke in half. I'm not pointing any fingers, but there were several teenage hellions in that neighborhood.

Oh, who am I kidding. I blame them.

Fast forward several weeks to moving on base in California. St. Francis is in two pieces because husband hadn't gotten around to repairing him or figuring out how exactly to go about it.

The movers pull up and open the truck to begin unpacking our household goods. The top of St. Francis rolls out and crashes onto the driveway.

Now, he is in 3 pieces having lost his head.

Until the mover carrying the bottom half tripped over one of the landscaping stones lining the front walk.

Four pieces.

So, the St. Francis statue was no more.

This year for husband's birthday his mom bought him a St. Francis wind chime. That was the end of May

This morning the girls were downstairs watching Noggin and I was upstairs on the computer.

I heard something that sounded like glass breaking. As I bolted down the stairs, the girls met me at the bottom.

"Mommy! We heard a loud noise out on the deck."

Whew! At least it wasn't in the house, so I don't have to look for blood on either of the children.

I opened the back door and stepped out onto the deck with both girls close on my heels.

Then we saw the headless body of St. Francis lying on deck.

The head had rolled off the deck onto the grass below.

Reagan took off down the stairs to retrieve the head as McKinley burst into tears.

"Why did his head fall off!? Oh!!! He's broken forever. We'll never get his head back on!" She's playing the part of the drama queen today.

I had no idea why the windchime broke. We have had some strong storms over the past few weeks and it has been fine. Yesterday and today the wind has been very still. I didn't even see a leaf moving while we were gathering all the pieces to try to put Humpty Dum... er, St. Francis back together again.

I was perplexed.

Until I heard another odd noise outside. A scratching sound.

I peeked out to see a squirrel who appears to be on crack. This thing is twitchier and more neurotic than I have ever seen a squirrel. It was basically doing laps around the rail of my deck, along the side of the house and leaping from the potted plants to the hook that held up the windchime.

Rat bastard.

Sittin' on the can

I must be a glutton for punishment.
 
I took the girls to Wal-Mart yesterday.
 
The Supercenter.
 
That place brings out the worst in most people who walk through the doors.
 
As we were walking in, I laid the threats ("it's hot, this place is crowded and I feel a migraine coming on, so do not make me have to march your little butts out of this store, because no one will be happy") and the bribes ("if you are good I will bake strawberry cupcakes when we get home and we will have a picnic in front of the TV for dinner")  on pretty thick.
 
I normally don't have to do this, but they have been in rare diva form for the past three days, so I decided to cover my bases.
 
I missed several needed items when I went grocery shopping on Saturday because in a lapse of judgment, I went to the commissary on a payday weekend.
 
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
 
And, there was no way I was getting anywhere near Quantico. Cpl. Wassef Ali Hassoun the Marine who was a supposed hostage is there going through the repatriation process and that place was swarming with media. The traffic around there is bad enough without throwing all of the media trucks into the mix.
 
Anyway, it was a fairly uneventful trip until we only had about three aisles to go.
 
The girls were sitting nicely in the cart - Reagan in the "big girl" seat and McKinley in the back surrounded by all the groceries. We were making our way down an aisle behind a rather slow woman. She stopped to look at something and since there was "oncoming traffic" I stopped behind her and just waited. No biggie.
 
Until this wench coming from the opposite direction apparently needed her can of green beans and could not wait another few seconds for us to move on.
 
This bitch grabbed the front end of my cart and swung it out of her way!!!
 
No "excuse me." No "could I squeeze in there."
 
Just as I was about to go off on her McKinley says "Hey! It's not polite to touch other people's things."
 
She wasn't done.
 
"I was sittin' on the can (referring to a can of crushed pineapples in the cart) and you made me fall off. That was NOT nice."
 
She emphasized her point with a "hmph" crossed her arms and turned her face away with her nose in the air. Basically snubbing the woman.
 
She is sooooo my child!
 
There was really nothing left to say to the wench. She had just been dressed down by a 3-year-old. The look on her face and the redness spreading on her neck and face was quite satisfying.
 
As was the laughter of the other people in the aisle.
 
Oh, and we had a picnic in the family room while watching "Toy Story" and enjoying extra dessert.

She must be making her way across the country

The cranky ole bitty who has terrorized two of my friends in line apparently made her way to Virginia tonight.
 
I had just emerged from a nice relaxing bath when husband realized he needed a 3-hole punch to get the presentation ready for the TDY he leaves on tomorrow morning at the butt-crack of dawn.
 
Way to go, Sir Plans-A-Lot.
 
Total relaxation minutes - including time in the bath - 17. Yeah, I ought to be good for the next 4 years.
 
So, off I go, hair still wet, to Wal-Mart - at 9 pm.
 
I think I have finally found the antidote for my idiot-attracting perfume. I have to be fresh from the bath and they aren't fully lured to me.
 
Ah, but the poor bastards in the line beside me are one their own.
 
Granny pushed her way in front a woman with a screaming hell-child informing the lady that since she only had a few things she was going to go ahead of her since she had a full cart and apparently needed to calm her child down.
 
Ouch.
 
 

I'll be watching my mail for a scalpel and a medical textbook

The weather has been very un-Virginia like for July today. It was only in the low 80s and there was very little to no humidity.
 
Woo-hoo!! That meant the girls actually played outside for quite a while without constantly complaining about how hot it was and running in every 3.5 minutes to cool off.
 
As we sat down to dinner I noticed a small bite on McKinley's leg, but just thought it was a mosquito bite.
 
As I was getting them ready for their bath, I took a closer look at it because she complained of it hurting.
 
Hmmm... that doesn't look so good. It looks a lot like a target which is often an indication of a spider bite.
 
Oh, and of course it is after 7 pm which means the clinic at Quantico is closed. They have no emergency room.
 
I suppressed my immediate urge to put her clothes back on and take her to the Mary Washington Hospital emergency room and decided instead to call the Tricare Nurse Advice Line.
 
So, while husband was entertaining them in the bath, I sit through the litany of "press or say 1 for..."  "press or say 2 for..."
 
Ah, finally a human. A very pleasant one, I might add.
 
After verifying all of my information and getting a quick medical history on my little bug, she tells me to just keep an eye on it for the next few hours and instructs me on what to look for that would require medical attention and then tells me to make a paste of baking soda and put on it to help neutralize any venom in the event that it is a spider bite.
 
Well, my mind is more at ease now. Thank goodness, I really didn't want to go to the ER on a Friday night.
 
Then, she says "Oh, I see that you are in Sierra, Region 1. Did you get the letter informing you after August the nurse advice line will no longer be available to you/"
 
"Um, no."
 
"You should be receiving it in a few weeks. The government opted not to renew the contract. Instead you will be given a website to look up items that you think may require medical attention."
 
"You have got to be kidding me!"
 
She chuckled and said "No, I'm not. But that is the same response I have received from many moms. In the letter there will also be a website where you can leave feedback about the change."
 
"I'm sorry. I am speechless."
 
"Don't worry. You are not the first. We are all civilians here, so we were pretty surprised when they told us. We were under the impression the military had some of the most thorough insurance coverage."
 
I just had to chuckle myself. I told her I couldn't really complain too much, but that over the past year or so it certainly seemed that Tricare was putting more and more of the responsibility on us from forms and medical records to scheduling out own appointments online (which I like).
 
I am guessing in five years or so, I am going to go to my mailbox and find a package with a scalpel, a medical textbook and a letter advising me that for anything other than major surgery, I am on my own.

Cheese and hearing

I swear. Sometimes my life is like a scene right out of some wacky sitcom like "I Love Lucy."

I am constantly tripping over something, dropping something or walking into something.

Today while fixing lunch I was actually looking for the hidden cameras, because surely someone must be getting a good laugh out of my wacky antics.

A couple of ham and cheese sandwiches sounds simple enough.

I opened the refrigerator only to have the bottle of salad dressing that someone - I'm guessing my darling husband - just laid on top of the other condiments in the door instead of taking 10 seconds to move things just a tad to allow it to fit back nicely in its previous spot come flying out and land right on my little toe.

"Shit! Damn!"

"Mom, 'shit' is a bad word."

"So is 'damn.'"

Thank you my little moral compasses. You can't hear me tell you to clean up your room when I am 2 feet from you, but you can hear me cuss from 2 rooms away. Clearly, you have inherited you father's hearing.

Okay. Toe throbbing. Salad dressing back in the door where it belongs. Buns buttered, ham piled neatly on said buns, toaster oven heating up. Time to open a new bag of pre-shredded mozzarella cheese - yeah, I'm lazy like that.

We go through a lot of mozzarella cheese - which could explain the size of my backside - so I buy it in those handy little two-packs that are attached but provide that handy little perforated seam for easy separation.

Supposedly.

I grasp the bags and give a firm tug to separate them. At this point, something goes horribly wrong.

There is shredded cheese flying through the air like confetti on New Year's Eve.

Damn cheap bags. Can't tear down the perforation. No, it has to rip down the front of one bag.

Well, look. There's Cooper the wonder dog who can't hear me yell for him to get back in the house when he is 2 feet from the back door, but can hear cheese hitting the carpet in front of the refrigerator from 2 rooms away.

I'm starting to see a pattern here.

As the dog is cleaning up the mess and looking up at me as if to say "thanks!" I had nothing left to do but launch into insane laughter since I don't have my own laugh track.

I'll pay you to pour hot wax on me

It really is amazing what we women do in the name of beauty.

After months of neglecting my eyebrows, I finally got them waxed last night.

Wow. I look human again. That CroMagnon look just wasn't doing it for me.

Husband actually asked me when I got home from Quantico if I was feeling better because I sure looked like I felt better.

I told him it must be the appearance of two eyebrows vice the unibrow.

"You paid someone to pour hot wax on you and then rip it off?" he asked as he rubbed his eyebrows as if he was having sympathy pains.

Yes. Yes I did. And, I will be doing it again soon.

My needs are many

I don't know what it is about Target that I just can't stay away from.

It could be the Starbucks located inside the store, but I have actually resisted the urge on one or two occasions.

More likely, I think it is the fact that it is so anti Wal-Martesque.

I can actually feel my blood pressure rise when I walk through the door of a Wal-Mart. I haven't seen a clean or orderly Wal-Mart in years. And it just gives me the oogies.

Target on the other is so welcoming and just beckons me to come, browse, spend your money.

I stopped at Target yesterday to pick up some parchment paper. Being free of my usual shopping companions since they were at home driving daddy crazy, I took the opportunity to browse.

I spent at least 30 minutes staring in awe at the wall o' kitchen gadgets.

I love kitchen gadgets. And, since I had spent the morning cleaning out and reorganizing the gadget drawers, I knew I had a little room to cram some more stuff into.

Did I actually need anything? Well, other than parchment paper - no. But that is not the point.

Rubbermaid now makes a handy little butter dish. The only covered butter dish I have is Longaberger and a little on the expensive side. Especially with two little kitchen helpers who have inherited their mother's clumsiness. So, it is safely in the cabinet. And, I cannot stand to rewrap the unused butter in its paper and put it back in the refrigerator.

So, I did need that.

Then, I saw a set of small measuring cups. They were white with the measurements in big, bright letters. Well, now there is an idea! Much better than my dark green ones that have to be held up to the light just right to see the small, slightly raised lettering. Did I mention that two of the cups have somehow made their way to the sandbox? Did I mention that a bonus egg separated was included with the set of measuring cups?

So, I did need those.

Thanks to Alton Brown and his amazing show "Good Eats," I finally have perfected the art of "The Chewy" chocolate chip cookie according to husband - which is why I was out buying parchment paper in the first place.

During the quest for cookie perfection, husband was sure that the Air Bake cookie sheets were the answer. I hate those things, but have been fighting with them for a few years now, because husband was sure they were the answer.

Again, thank you Alton Brown. He said plain ole standard baking sheets, lined with parchment paper, were the way to go. And, Target just happened to have some on sale.

So, I did need those.

I then moved on to the home decor section. When to what did my wondering did appear? Not one. Not two or three. But several aisles with large, red clearance signs.

Of course I had to spend some time wandering those aisles.

I found the cutest cocktail stirrers topped with palm trees and pineapples. At 50% off, how could I pass those up?

Okay, so maybe those I didn't actually need. But, I do spend a lot of time mixing vodka and rum into various beverages and it is putting undo strain on my iced-tea spoons.

So, for the sake of my iced-tea spoons, I did need those.

And, then I found an adorable milk bottle. I had honestly thought, not two days before, that the arrangement of sunflowers on my mantle would look much cuter in an old milk bottle.

At 70% off, for $1.24, I did need that.

I think the girls and I will take a trip back to Target this afternoon to see what else we need.

Things I have learned in the past week

I frequent a military spouse support site. I am not sure what has happened over the past several weeks, but it seems as if the membership has increased exponentially.

This population explosion has brought out some very interesting people - and opinions.

First, apparently the negative behavior of some black people is representative of all black people.

Someone needs to let my friends and neighbors who just happen to be black in on this little secret. They apparently did not get the memo.

Secondly, "those damn Mexicans are only in it for what will benefit them."

I will be sure to let my mother-in-law on this little nugget of wisdom. Though, I think I will wait until we are visiting her next month so I can share it with her sister who will be visiting as well.

From Guadalajara.

Mexico.

Thirdly, if you are really passionate about a topic and it has affected your family personally, it is justifiable to attack the person you are debating with. Even if that is not the way things are done at this site. And, even if you know absolutely nothing about the person.

Ugh. I really don't think I can handle learning anything more.

Oh wait! There is one last thing I learned.

People piss me off!!

A LOT!!!

Why does this logic only work one way?

Husband decided to invite some of his co-workers over for a BBQ tomorrow.

Works for me. It gives me the motivation I need to thoroughly clean the house.

So, what is husband out doing right now?

Buying a new grill. Because apparently the one I use several times a week just isn't good enough for guests. "If we are going to have people over, we should have a nice, new grill."

"Okay, then. When you get home, I'll run out and pick out some new family room furniture."

He looked at me as if I had two heads.

Eh, it was worth a shot. I mean, we have had the furniture almost as long as we have had the grill. And, we use the furniture a whole lot more.

Made sense to me.

One of the greatest benefits afforded us by this wacky military lifestyle is the opportunity to meet new folks pretty regularly.

The husband works in a that funny building. You know, fours sides and an extra.

Just in case you think "Oh, wow. How neat to work in the hub of all military activity." Let me paint you a picture of his work area.

He works in a vault. Yep. A vault.

I have never been in a morgue, but when I picture one, it is quite similar to husband's work area.

Opening the vault door reveals a sea of cubicles. The cubicles, about the size of a bedroom - and not a master bedroom - hold four work areas. So, needless to say, husband gets quite familiar with his co-workers.

For the past few months husband has come home telling stories of their antics in the office. Yes, even military officers act like 12-year-old boys when you get them in a group of, oh... two or more.

His favorite partner-in-crime is Darryl - aka Chocolate Looove.

After months of talking about getting together with Darryl and his wife, we finally had the opportunity last Friday night since the girls were still with their aunt and grandmother.

We went to a little place in Old Town Alexandria called Bistro Europa. Husband and Chocolate Looove both had French Onion Soup and Schnitzel. Surprisingly, their choices did not come with an application for admission to the United Nations... or a white flag.

After about two hours of non-stop laughing - which I am sure was annoying the owner Klaus and his predominantly French and German staff ("stupid Americans having fun at dinner" seemed to be the point they were conveying with the glares and eye rolls) - we decided to stroll through Old Town. There was a light drizzle, but we were honestly having so much fun, we didn't care.

We decided to do it again very soon. Because, it is always a good time to annoy the French and the Germans.