But on every Sunday there is a moment of divine intervention in our apartment when this cottage cheese pancake makes it to my lips. Crispy, fluffy, and perfectly light they have actually brought tears to my eyes before.
My parents made them for us when we were little and I’ve been making them for Benjamin for as long as he’s been old enough to eat them. I don’t even put syrup on them, just powdered sugar. And when they hit our plates they look like this…
I wanted to share the recipe because making these pancakes is a little secret to my happiness. When the world is constantly spinning around you, when you’re not sure what will happen next or how you’ll make it - the little things save you.
So here you have it, one of the things on Earth that always makes the rest of the world disappear.
[Don't let the cottage cheese part scare you, once cooked you can't even tell it's in there, so don't even bother telling the kids if they're older and hate the cottage cheese].
SIDE NOTES: if you think by posting a recipe I am avoiding telling you about some other things, you’d be absolutely right. I just don’t want to jinx them. Also, if you live in Ohio or nearby, check out my two upcoming events. You’re all invited.
Keep voting on your favorite necklace, I’ll be announcing the winner and unveiling the final necklace this Friday.
Because today was Benjamin’s first and his last third birthday and because I didn’t buy him a single present in Austin I spent my lunch break on a mission.
My mission was to buy everything I would need to transform his room from a nursery/toddler room…
[Click to continue, although, be warned - there are TONS of photos in this post and a video - although I think you won't believe what you see. I still can't believe I pulled it off]
Feel free to cheer me on. I need it. Because on the inside this is how I feel:
Also on my list of shit that’s really messing with me:
Benjamin is sick as hell. He’s had a fever for three days. Now I’m feeling sick.
I had to work from home today. Huge projects due. I’m frustrated. Wishing I could do it all and knowing I can’t.
I just opened iPhoto and realized that I lost over one month of photos including tons of pictures of Benjamin. At least my favorites are on Flickr, but still, this is not cool.
Slightly random but cheerful stuff to make you smile…
Here’s an article I wrote for Single Minded Women.com on being a single mom over the holidays. I wrote this weeks ago - hadn’t read it again until now. And, it actually just cheered me up. Odd. Me cheering myself up. Any hoo… I’m completely insane - just ignore that part - and hopefully you’ll find some great tips on how to get through the holidays while being solo and childfull.
And this, my lovelies, is an absolutely fantastic piece writen by Kristin on Work It Mom. She found a study actually proving that single moms spend just as much time, if not more time with their kids, than married moms. Reading this just gave me some kind of closure I didn’t even know I needed.
A picture of our Christmas tree, which I managed to actually get up early this year. Yes, now, is early. I caught Benjamin gazing into the lights the other night - mesmerized. A few hours later he was smacking it with a pillow though, so I’m not quite sure how he feels about our new friend.
On a completely unrelated note (did I already tell you I’m crazy), there’s a production company out in fancy schmancy Los Angeles looking for an instant family. If you know a childless man or woman who is marrying a single parent with kids (the more the merrier) who would like to be on national TV e-mail ally_weinberg@pietown.tv. You can live anywhere in the U.S.
And last but not least…
a Merry Christmas to you all from my adorable and very practical toddler (sorry I held the camera sideways and I can’t rotate it back around in iMovie without losing half of the picture).
Still priceless though and proof positive that two stockings are better than three!
UPDATE: He’s dressed like a girl (tights and a sparkle shirt) because he had just gotten home from his best friend Sydney’s house where he plays dress up. Can’t believe I left that out before. Um, yeah, crazy.
So I’m doing 100% of my Christmas shopping online this year (I’m at least going to try my hardest).
Besides, now that he’s 2.9, sneaking things into the cart past Benjamin’s watchful little eyes is a lot tougher. On Monday night I hopped online to dive right into my Christmas shopping and check out what I found for Benjamin - a Melissa and Doug easel for $34.99 on Amazon, normally priced at $59.99.
I also bought the paper and paint kit for $20.58. The shipping was free and all of it landed on my doorstep on Wednesday afternoon!
Have I told you how much I love the internet lately?
Well, I do. Can’t imagine living without it. And have you discovered Etsy.com yet? All hand-made stuff, largely from mothers who stay at home. Unbelievable. I can not stop surfing that site.
Here’s a set of four mini tins for $10.00 from Magenta Designs. Aren’t these adorable? You could put cute, heartfelt notes inside and give them to your best friends. She also has the sweetest little magnets.
Have you found anything awesome online yet this season? Share the sites you love and the treasures you’ve found, it will save me some browsing.
Stress or maybe just too much to do - constantly running myself in a million directions - has weakened my immune system. Now I have some kind of nasty, nasty virus.
So here I am, flat on my back, unable to walk across a room without severe pain from this nasty whatever it is. My mother is here, along with her boyfriend, Larry, and Mr. Man. They all came up last night for our big election night out, long planned ahead of time - me knowing it would be the greatest night of our lives, one we would never forget.
We went - I sat - barely moving, watching them all enjoying themselves through a foggy haze and watching our now President-Elect Obama sweep state after state. We came home early and I curled up in bed with Mr. Man to watch his victory speech on my tiny laptop.
Now I’m still here in bed, still barely moving, while all three of them buzz around me. Mom cleaning, Mr. Man fixing my dryer and Larry doing who knows what to my yard. Benjamin is on his way back from his father’s this afternoon. Mr. Man will be gone by then but Mom will stay, she’ll stay she says - until I get back on my feet.
Usually I resist help, refuse it all together or deny that I need it - but today, unable to muster the energy to get out of my bed - I can’t stop them. It’s just so hard to believe my quiet house is filled with voices - adult voices - help.
He shows up every Tuesday morning to pick up Benjamin.
I gave up asking him about the massive credit card debt of his I had to assume or asking him to help out with Benjamin’s medical bills long ago. Instead I just brief him on Benjamin’s little happenings of the week - he doesn’t know because he never calls. Then I leave for work… a few hours later they take off for my ex’s town, my hometown, about an hour and a half from here. Less than 24 hours later, when I’m at work on Wednesday he brings him back and they spend the afternoon here in my (Benjamin and I’s) house.
Every Wednesday night I take stock of the damage.
Kitchen. Trashed. Living room. Even worse. I don’t even walk up to Benjamin’s room, I always save this for later so as not to send my body and mind into complete convulsions. But it’s just as bad. I’m not completely innocent here - much of the mess in my place is definitely mine. But every Wednesday night instead of coming home to a few dishes put away or maybe a swept floor, I come home with my mess on top of his.
There’s something you should know about me… I’m not a paranoid person. I don’t care that he’s here. I have nothing to hide. In fact, I like it, because I know my son is safe and sound in his home where he belongs. I don’t even mind that my ex helps himself to my coffee and my food. [click to continue…]
Benjamin and I are going to have our first photo shoot tomorrow!
A fantastic photographer I met a few weeks ago offered to snap some pictures of the two of us together. Can you believe that? I can’t. I’ve been scrambling to pick out a few outfits all day. Conservative, sexy or in between? I can’t decide. There’s a good chance the results will be plastered all over this website so… nerve wracking and incredibly exciting at the same time.
—–
Someone asked me if my blog was my boyfriend yesterday.
I said - “Yes!” without hesitation. This blog is my boyfriend. Not literally. I don’t make out with my blog. My blog doesn’t keep me warm at night and whisper sweet nothings into my ear. But my blog keeps me happy, occupied, makes me laugh and sometimes talks back. And the time I spend on this blog is equatable to the time one would spend on a relationship. So, yes, in that sense, this blog is my relationship. And I am completely fine with that. For the first time in a long time my life has been completely focused on the right things and this is one of them.
Is that nuts? I’m not sure… I’ve always been an extremely driven workaholic and writing has always been my passion. So it makes sense that blogging would naturally be such a fit for me. I think every single mom should have a hobby like this by the way - something that fills that void where a man could be… not that they should be there. More on this later, I’m sure…
My little sister called me from the bar she works at in Virginia. Dave Matthews pops up every once in a while, it’s a hot spot.
“No one is here. It’s weird.” She says, her voice echoing amidst the empty tables and chairs. She and her husband are going to Iceland for a vacation next week. A country that is on the brink of filing for bankruptcy.
“I know.” I’ve got nothing to say that will make her feel better, “It’s happening isn’t it?” We can’t make it here anymore.
People aren’t shopping, aren’t eating out - freezing all spending. The government and us.
I went to a concert tonight. Death Cab for Cutie. Amazing.The band and the crowd. Everyone happy and satisfied. Places to sleep, jobs, food, beer. I’m hoping I’m wrong. That they’re wrong. But what if they’re not? No one really knows. And as a single mother, whose child support amounts to four percent of her income, I’m feeling very primal about dating right now.
Do I need a man?
Maybe.
Do I want a man?
Maybe.
I may need a man to punch some son-of-the-bitch in his face if he tries to steal my son’s food but I may want a man to tell me everything is going to be okay.
Anyone else feeling this way?
P.S.
This does not mean I’m going to hunt a man down just to serve up these requests - believe me - I’m not sold on the whole husband or man idea by any means. We’ll just have to make a commune of single parents. Anyone own an island? Let’s start plotting.
In the meantime, I’m going to take a karate class or something.
1. The words “Quiet on the set” mean absolutely nothing to a 2-year-old. Learned while working on a 48 Hour Film Project this weekend. My team is amazing. As I write this they’re still filming, a grueling process that started last night when we drew our category. (I wrote the screen play. It was inspired by this post).
2. Older does not always mean wiser.
3. You can’t make time stop. I’ve been trying.
4. Envisioning myself in Denmark won’t get me there. I actually have start packing, cleaning and preparing. Two days left.
5. If you ever see a bag of rotten potatoes or discover one in the back of your cabinet (which you never clean because you hate cleaning storage spaces of any kind) … RUN or cover your face with a scarf. Better yet - just blow up the cabinet.
6. Do not put off buying new diapers. Your 2-year-old will inevitably come down with a horrific flu bug including a nasty case of the shits when you only have three left. Hint: Look in the car - you may have stuffed some under the seats or buried them in the trunk.
