birthday monster

A couple weeks ago there were three birthdays to celebrate in as many days. This was enough to put the J2 attention whore birthday monster right.over.the.edge.

First was super fun pool party for a newly minted three year old---complete with Chipotle (yum, guacamole!) and Merleno's freeze, which I just discovered last year but should be a summertime staple for everyone here. I added some Sierra Nevada---but vodka was also popular. Either way, it is yummy. J2 was relatively well behaved for the singing and cake. He did pronounce it was "MY BIRTHDAY" and did get a bit agitated when we had the gall to sing, "Happy Birthday, Ariel" rather than "Happy Birthday, J2" But he quickly managed to forget is angst when presented with a piece of cake.

Then we headed to the new Korean BBQ place for my mother-in-law's birthday. I thought it was good, and it must have been because I have seriously never seen my mother-in-law eat that much food. Ever. By the time we got to the second round of meat, I could barely put anything more in my mouth and she was ordering more jjigae.

In spite of impending food coma, we decided to shove more food in our stomachs and brought out the cheesecake at home. Two birthdays that weren't his in one day was just too much for J2. He screamed, cried, grabbed, etc. declaring it HIS BIRTHDAY---and despite my desperate wish not to give in---we lit the candles and sang to him. Not once. Not twice. BUT FOUR TIMES!

Finally, when he started insisting on a fifth round, I took him in his room where he went completely nuclear---hysterically crying to the point of near hyperventilation. He did finally calm down, but would revert to sniffles of "Umma say not my birthday---make me sad," every so often. And of course, Little Miss J, who really doesn't care that she isn't getting the attention---of course gets offended only because J2 gets to blow out candles and she does not. Argh.

By the time we got to birthday #3 on Sunday, he seemed to be OK with the fact that it wasn't his birthday.

And while we didn't ruin the birthday party by hijacking the candles, we did forget to bring the gift. Sorry, Millie!

If J2 got a year older every time he proclaimed it was his birthday, he'd be three times as old as me. It's like dog years.

Oh and I went to Costco, not once, not twice, but THREE times that weekend. Good times.

the dessert

On our recent adventure in glamping, we stumbled upon the farmer's market in Nevada City and picked up some rhubarb. My mom used to make this lovely rhubarb dessert. She liked it. I mean, she really liked it. And this is one of my favorite mom stories ...

She made said dessert and we ate said dessert for dessert one evening---leaving only half of said dessert left in the pan. She later ate the remainder of said dessert because, well, as I mentioned, she liked it. To cover up the fact that she had eaten half a pan of said dessert, she baked another and ate half of it. LOL. And likely would have gotten away with it, but it's such a good story you simply have to tell it, right?

Last night, Little Miss J and I baked the dessert.

I looked on Pinterest and found some recipes that appeared to be similar, but not quite the same. And then ... the gates of heaven opened up and I found the Cascade Methodist Church cookbook, where my mom hid some of her favorite recipes---including the lasagna recipe. So this isn't just "like" the dessert this IS the dessert.

I will tell you that I didn't eat the remainder of this after everyone went to bed, but you may never know. I am my mother's daughter, after all.

this girl's guide to glamping

We aren't really the "camping" type. We tried, we really did. Once. Read about it here. Or don't.

Last weekend we decided to go the "glamping" route---ending up at the Inn Town Campground in Nevada City. It's brand new and it was pretty perfect for our non-outdoorsy nature. The tent cabin was perfectly lovely. Beds, electricity, towels/linens, showers, bathrooms.

As it turns out, we're not that great at glamping either. We forgot the grill, ketchup, cream cheese, and extra socks for J2. When Gus tried to feed me a dry grocery store bagel sans cream cheese and no coffee, I knew it was time to hit the town and find some real breakfast. In Nevada City, which is this cute little Ely-esque town (a reference for all your Iron Rangers), but a little less touristy and a little more hippie---we found a farmer's market (rhubarb, yay!) and Three Forks Bakery & Brewery (coffee and pastries, double yay!).

The campground is next door to a railroad museum, which offers free railbus rides. It was a pretty neat ride and we got a little history.

Then we headed to Bridgeport for a hike. Much to Little Miss J's chagrin, we chose the longest loop to maximize the amount of exercise. J2 was able to get a little nap.

The kids' favorite part was the swim we took in the river at the end of said hike.

Despite our lack of outdoor skills, we at least managed the traditional campfire and s'mores.

Sunday morning, we showered, packed up and headed back to Nevada City for breakfast at South Pine Cafe---so.very.delicious. Chorizo benedict with avocado jalapeno hollandaise. Yes. Please.

We planned for another hike but the state park didn't open until 10:00. We'd been up since 6:30 and had finished breakfast at 8:30. Even after wandering around Nevada City, we still had a whole half hour before 10:00. Plus, Little Miss J was a little less than enthused about hiking after I divulged that I had chosen the route the previous day because it was the longest. So we just headed home and stopped for a quick bounce at the Galleria---because that's how we roll.

Suffice it to say we will not be hiking the Pacific Crest Trail any time soon. After that experience, you will be hard pressed to get me to construct and sleep in a real tent---regardless of the presence of an air mattress. We will definitely go back. Hoping to make this an annual thing!

wordless wednesday

accidents happen

I've had a bit of a vacation hangover for the past several weeks. It's been hard to get back into running, working and eating healthy since we got back from a week of decompressing in Minnesota. I finally made it to a morning run last Monday and have been slowly creeping my way back ever since.

I accidentally ended up going for a run this morning. Last night, I laid out my clothes and set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. It was already close to 10:00 p.m. and I really thought that in 6.5 hours I was going to dial in it, turn off the alarm and go back to sleep. I didn't respond to the Facebook invite because that in and of itself would typically make me feel obligated.

But when my alarm buzzed, I had to go to the bathroom anyway. Then since I was up, I thought could meet my friends for a run. So I changed out of my pajamas. Then I sat on the couch for awhile still considering whether I was really going to go or not. Usually, I'd run to the park and take Carl Rove. This time, given the fact that I was reconsidering my decision to go at every turn, I decided to give myself some reprieve and drove the 0.98 miles to the park sans dog.

It took some serious fortitude, but I showed up for my friends and got three morning miles in complete with a little sprinkler shower.

Eenie, meanie, minie, moe ... thanks for the run ladies! What can I say? Accidents happen.