One lucky winner will win a place on my sidebar for as long as your blog remains family-friendly, which I expect to be for life. We do have decency standards around here, but, depending on how funny you are, those standards aren’t too hard to meet.

If you don’t already have a button for your blog, I can make you a custom one from a graphic you send me or from what is already on your site. Oh, and if you’d like a scrolling box to display the html code for your button on your own sidebar (encouraging your own readers to display it), I’ll make you a scrolling code box. [Any html-ness I can lay claim to I owe to Dick and to those lovely ladies at Blogging Basics 101.]

For examples of buttons and to see what a scrolling html code box looks like, direct your attention to my striking sidebar. The MMSM button is an example of a button made from a graphic tweaked from a Picasso print. The Fortune Cookie Kit button I made from a photograph Shalece sent. The Daily Delight and June Cult buttons I made from graphics that were already on Tara’s and June’s sites, respectively. So, my sidebar: that’s where you could be. Just think of it: my many readers and unwitting-Google-searchers-who-land-here will see YOUR custom button winking out at them day and night. Honey, you can’t buy that kind of publicity. Well, you could, but, better to get it for free, right?

To qualify, I’d like you to help me get a head start on the next Makes-Me-Smile Monday Carnival on April 28th. The MMSM carnival is a different kind of carnival: no more Mr. Linky’s! Instead, if you follow the guidelines here, I’ll include a link to your post in my own MMSM post, with a short blurb about it. If you know your SEO (search engine optimization) and Google/Technorati stuff, links in actual posts are much more valuable than in Mr. Linky (not to disparage Mr. Linky; he’s certainly necessary for the million-link carnivals like the Bloggy Giveaway!).

This Monday’s topic was a request from Dick, who wants to see “tips on how to make your husband happy.” We’re totally not influenced by self-interest around here. And I don’t need any more sex tips, so I hope that doesn’t rule out the top five things that immediately sprang to your mind. The movie I thought of to go along with this is The Philadelphia Story. (or the more jazzy — literally — remake High Society). You don’t have to have seen either movie to write a post with great tips on how to keep a significant other happy, but it certainly wouldn’t be a bad use of a Saturday night.

But I digress. You should probably automatically qualify for the Powerball Lottery if you’ve actually read this far, but, getting back to the Free Publicity For Life For Your Blog (button, sidebar, scrolling box) contest, simply leave one tip on the making of a loved one (child/parent/friend/spouse) happy, and you’re entered. If thinking up a happy-making tip gets you thinking on a post you could write for the MMSM carnival, even better. But not necessary. (Well, not for this contest. For the betterment of mankind, maybe).

Comments Closed — Winner to be announced SOON.

Sometimes this caused pain, as when Dad compared me to a wasp (because of my sharp tongue, and no, dad, I still haven’t forgotten that, sorry!) or when he asked me if I were on speed (nope, just Mountain Dew, and sorry, haven’t forgotten that one either). Dad was also really candid about his own faults. I know things about my dad that I could really embarrass him with online, but I won’t. Because he knows things about me, too.

When I was 13 and wanting to go swimming during one of my first periods, I couldn’t get the tampon in. Muscles too tight, brain too anxious. There was no way that foreign object was going anywhere inside me. Mom said she could do it if I wanted. Well, that’s just gross. And weird. But I wanted to go swimming. And I trusted, I mean, really trusted, my mom.

I grew up knowing that, whatever else, my dad and mom would never tell me less than the truth. And they expected the truth and nothing but the truth back. Of course I still lied. I lied when I was afraid they just wouldn’t understand. Who could possibly understand? How shocked was I when my sheltered little parents not only understood, but still loved me, and wanted the world to be right for me? Now they, and I, want the world to be right for my sister, and for all of their progeny. That’s all we want, right? For the world to be RIGHT for those we love.

My parents did a lot of things right (and a few wrong, catch me on a less-reminiscing day, and I’ll TELL ALL), but one thing that imprinted on me to the point of inducing salivation at 6 pm sharp is family dinner. Dick used to tease me about my Pavlovian insistence on all five of us being at the table with food of some sort on our plates every. single. night. Basketball? School function? Church activity? Better eat fast.

Then Dick listened to an NPR Bryant Park Project podcast and learned that family dinner is associated with better early reading, even more so than parents’ reading to their kids. Suddenly family dinner is the cool thing to do. But it’s not just the fish sticks and broccoli, it’s the complex conversation, replete with explanations of words and storytelling.

The benefits of showing “genuine concern about each other’s daily activities” even extends to kids with asthma. They’re less likely to end up in the ER if they come from a family “reasonably intact and functional” enough to have family dinner with a side of conversation.

Now, I admit that sometimes I’ve only set my book down long enough to yell at Sally to set her book down. Then Dick says (he doesn’t yell, sigh) “I thought we weren’t going to read at the table anymore.” Sigh.

Then we watched Some Kind of Wonderful in anticipation of the MMSM carnival. And what do they do at least twice in that movie, at some length? They have a family meal. They talk. They hassle each other about school and Keith’s sister teases him about his hot date with Amanda Jones. Dad gets mad at Keith for calling him and Mom by their first names. Mom makes the effort for a solid, if boring, meal. And, for once in cinema-land, they actually sit around the table, instead of along one side of it. They’re a family.

When Keith withdraws all his college money and his dad finds out, there’s a lot of yelling — and the real “F” word, not just the “f” word we’ve banned at our house (fat). But the dad listens. He hears what his crazy, dumb 18-year-old son says. He’s right, Keith’s right. Dad understands, and Keith can finish growing up with his blessing.

As Watts says,

Yeah, well, in comparative terms, it’s probably better to have an old man nagging you about your future, than no old man, not nagging you about nothing.

—-

Link up to the MMSM carnival below! This week we have a giveaway for one lucky participant. I offered one of Shalece’s Fortune Cookie Kits at the UBP and that went well, so we’re excited to offer another one (Shalece is all-entreprenuerial that way). You can see what’s in the kits (and meet Shalece!) in the video at her site. Personalized fortune cookies make great party favors or special thank-you tokens or original surprise-springers (I’m pregnant! or I didn’t forget our anniversary!). You can even dip them in chocolate or just serve them as dessert for that special family dinner I know you’re planning.

So I am happy to bring you a giveaway this Monday as a bribe small token of my appreciation for your making the effort to brighten up the internet with thoughts on one of the best movies ever made. A movie that led to one of my proudest moments: As we watched Some Kind of Wonderful, yet again, my dad got sucked into it, and said, “Wow, this is a lot better than I thought it would be.” Thanks, Dad.

I am also hoping this movie choice will entice some lurkers (you know who you are) who I happen to know LOVE this movie, or at least did when we were young(er). And as the song goes, High School Never Ends (sorry, Melinda).

Some Kind of Wonderful has great characters, characters that might start out stereotypical (it is a John Hughes movie, after all), but who grow and change; the conflict is real and realistically (un)resolved. And the music, oh! But the best part is the dialogue. It sparkles! I think I could recite the entire movie. (I once had a friend who had Alice in Wonderland memorized; SKOW is like that, only better).

Two of my favorite exchanges are:

Keith: You can’t judge a book by its cover.
Watts: No, but you can tell how much it’s gonna cost.
Keith: Wow, I never knew you were so deep.
Watts: You want shallow, call Amanda Jones.

and

Ray: I know that if you wanted, you could be a girl [snaps fingers] like that.
Watts: Ray, this is 1987. Did you know a girl can be whatever she wants to be?
Ray: I know. My mom’s a plumber.
Watts: That explains a lot about you, Ray.

To qualify for the giveaway, put your thinking cap on (or at least your breathing cap) and figure out what you want to say about (pick ONE): judging by appearance, women in the workforce, maternal influence, identity, high school, John Hughes movies, Eric Stoltz/Mary Stuart Masterson/Lea Thompson, music of the 80s(!), or one of the biggest themes of the movie — socioeconomic class disparity in America. Or about what you did (or wished you’d done) to get detention.

Then link up to the carnival this Monday (or comment substantially, if you’re blogless), and you’ll be eligible for some sweet schwag. (I’ll describe the schwag in detail on Monday; this isn’t quite priceline, people).

]]> http://www.seagullfountain.com/2008/04/03/a-giveaway-a-giveaway-my-kingdom-for-a-giveaway/feed/ 4 http://www.seagullfountain.com/2008/04/02/even-better-than-brownies/ http://www.seagullfountain.com/2008/04/02/even-better-than-brownies/#comments Thu, 03 Apr 2008 03:39:49 +0000 Shannon http://www.seagullfountain.com/?p=837 I know, I know, I’m afraid for my eternal salvation too. You just shouldn’t go around saying blasphemous things, however cool you think you want to be.

But, it’s true. I cannot deny that I have found something even better than Duncan Hines bulk brownie mix: Homemade Oreos. Not those nasty “homemade” things that involve cake mix. No. Homemade Oreos made from chocolate cookies and whipped cream cream cheese frosting. Two recipes I found on Allrecipes, modified just a bit, and introduced to each other.

And, voila! Heaven isn’t too far away. I’m closer to it everyday. No matter what your friends . . . Well. Give them a try, and you will be a true convert too.

I made these to eat while doing my taxes, and now I have a scientific explanation for why I always feel entitled to some serious snacks or and a caffeinated fountain drink when I have to do something taxing (haha).

The New York Times reports that “The brain has a limited capacity for self-regulation, so exerting willpower in one area often leads to backsliding in others.” So it can be smart, in the short-term, to focus one’s willpower on the most important task.

But willpower, like a muscle, can grow when used consistently. “People who stick to an exercise program for two months report reducing their impulsive spending, junk food intake . . . They also study more, watch less television and do more housework.”

More reasons to exercise regularly. Sigh. In the meantime, pass me some more cookies: I’m focusing all my willpower on this one thing until my refund comes through.

Homemade Oreos

Chocolate Cookies

1 1/4 cups unsweetened cocoa powder
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking soda

Whisk together. In separate bowl, whisk together:

1 cup butter (If you use unsalted (why?) add 1/8 tsp salt)
1 cup white sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
2 eggs

Combine. Drop small cookies onto greased cookie sheet and bake for 8-10 minutes at 350. Move to wire rack after they’ve cooled.

Whipped Cream Cream Cheese Frosting

1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream

Whip until quite stiff (but not quite butter-like). In separate bowl, beat:

1 (8 ounce) pkg cream cheese (I use Neufchatel, because I am extremely calorie-conscious)
1 cup white sugar
1/8 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla

Fold whipped cream into cream cheese mixture. If too soft, refrigerate for a bit (and next time whip the cream more before folding, and don’t over-fold). Assemble cookies, or just scoop a large dollop of frosting onto a cookie en route to your mouth.

___

For more recipes, visit the Recipe Box Swap and The Natural Mommy’s Recipe Swap ’08.

I found a bunch of great women whom I would like to be friends with IRL, as long as In Real Life means I can read all about your exciting, Frump-less lives from the comfort of my dirty pajamas and the chair that Spot the dog my 18-month-old has been using as a rawhide bone.

(My mom came to our apartment yesterday and later took great pleasure in telling my dad and sisters how “busy” I am. You know, I used to clean frantically before family was coming over, especially my in-laws. Now? If the kids have been fed and are relatively the quiet, and I am on the computer? Dishes? Serious debris on the floor? Laundry? I don’t see ANY of it.)

(Also parenthetically, if by some strange, shocking confluence of events I missed your UBP comment, or have not been to your blog, please email me straightaway at Whataboutmom at gmail dot com, and I will rush to peruse and plight my comment troth. ((Don’t you hate it when people write their email addresses like that? What’s wrong with whataboutmom@gmail.com?))).

Next, I wanted to thank all those who have complimented me on my new header. I love it! Mostly because it is not actually ME in the header pictures. That would be my 18-year-old, size 2 sister, Karen, who is identical to how I would look if I were twelve years younger and 30 (40? 50?) pounds lighter and IF I could sew my own cool retro clothing. I’m afraid I’m more like Horton the Elephant, whom I have to say is looking mighty swingin’ up there.

The kids are mine and my sister’s (my other sister’s, whose fancy house this also is). Karen was a fantastic model, and Mary was a gracious host and photography consultant, and we had more fun than we have since Mary and I used to dress up ourselves and play Shipwreckt.

Oh, and Dick did the techie stuff to make it fit the theme’s banner thingie and all. Thanks, Dick. I owe you big — as soon as you put your laptop down and come to bed, I’ll show you just how grateful I am.

Finally, I wanted to shamelessly plug the Makes-Me-Smile Monday carnival. I know I’m not as cool as most (all?) other carnival hostess-es-ers, but I am . . . earnest? needy? dorky? Yes. So, please join me, by post on your own blog, or a comment here, tomorrow, Monday, March 31st, for the first re-installment of the MMSM carnival.

The “topic” is a quote from Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. So you could write about London or Paris (because as far as I can remember from 7th grade, those are the two cities involved), or about any two other cities you like, or about orphans, or Madame Guillotine, or about any time or event or experience in your life that seemed to be at once the best and the worst. Hope to see you there!

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way . . .

I enjoy the Rocks in My Dryer WFMW carnival (which I shamelessly plundered for info on how to host mine), though sometimes it is overwhelming with how many links she gets. Other carnivals worth checking out include Tickle-Me Tuesday, Fight the Frump, and the Recipe Box Swap.

You can read past editions of the MMSM carnival here, though the Mr. Linkys are long gone as I have a minimalist account with them (and comments seem to be random too for some user error deep technological reason).

For this resurgence of the carnival, I’ve chosen some of my favorite quotes from books and movies as the “topics.” I really mean these as very broad starting points. You could write on anything that is sparked by thinking about the book or movie or by reading the quote or anything twice removed from that. And I would love to get your ideas for quotes or topics. Just email me at whataboutmom@gmail.com.

Click on the button to the left or the link in the header for more information, and here’s the tentative schedule. Hope to see you here next Monday!

March 31 from Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way . . .

April 7 from Some Kind of Wonderful

Keith: You can’t judge a book by its cover.
Watts: No, but you can tell how much it’s gonna cost you.
Keith Nelson: Wow, I never knew you were so deep.
Watts: You want shallow, call Amanda Jones.

April 14 from Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park

If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.

April 21 from House

Dr. Cameron: Men should grow up.
Dr. Gregory House: Yeah. And dogs should stop licking themselves. It’s not gonna happen.
or
Dr. Wilson: Beauty often seduces us on the road to truth.
Dr. Gregory House: And triteness kicks us in the nads.

April 28 from Thoreau’s Walden

However mean your life is, meet it and live it: do not shun it and call it hard names. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Things do not change, we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts. God will see that you do want society.
or
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.

May 5 from The Kingdom (very last lines)

Adam Leavitt: Fleury. Tell me what you whispered to Janet, in the briefing, to get her to stop crying about Fran, you know, before all this, before we even got airborne. What’d you say to her?
Aunt: Tell me, what did your grandfather whisper in your ear before he died?
Adam Leavitt: You remember?
Ronald Fleury: I told her we were gonna kill ‘em all.
15-Year-Old Granddaughter: Don’t fear them, my child. We are going to kill them all.

Because they know you are better than them, if you fight the frump. Hey, I resent resemble that.

I love Fussy‘s tagline, “We can’t both look good. It’s me or the house.” Because there’s nothing better than another good reason to ignore the house. But I have to take it a step further and tell you that it’s me (my appearance) or me (my brain), and if you could see the state of my marbles, you’d agree that I should spend 110% of my energy trying to fight that battle. So here’s to embracing the frump, with fond hopes that someday I’ll think straight enough to get to how I look.

Seriously, though (and I can be serious, with all that energy directed mentally), I think the reason I embrace the frump is because I’m afraid not to. If I obviously look like I’m not trying, then who knows? I might be gorgeous. I might look like Liv Tyler on a good day, and the only reason you’ll never know is because I love my flip-flops and exercise pants beyond reason. Better to leave you in suspense than to get myself dolled up and remove all doubt.

And while I’m telling you how much I’m glad to have met Fussy internetally, I have a confession. I’m Jane, and besides all the other great blogs I love, I’m a Dooce-aholic. I love Dooce, who is also loved by Fussy and Bossy. If they (Fussy and Bossy) don’t know I exist, and Dooce doesn’t know that they exist, if a tree falls in the internet, do I exist?

—-

Update

Ok, I’m a dork. That was probably obvious, but here’s why I’m specifically a dork today. I wrote this for Fight the Frump two weeks ago, but got it done on what might be called “Saturday” instead of “Friday,” but only by those picky enough to think of midnight as the cutoff. This is why (I tell myself) it didn’t get any notice from the other Fussy carnival-ers. I felt so bad, I took it down. I know, Dork. So here it is again. Giving it one last chance. And if nobody still doesn’t like it (?), I’ll somehow think up a real Fight the Frump tip for next week. Even if I have to go get a makeover.

Etiquette like that is really important to me — not like that awful writing the formal thank-you notes and rsvp’ing by a certain stressful deadline. Who can take that kind of pressure?

I blog here about the same things as most mommabloggers: naturally, I have a unique perspective and a witty way with words. Really, I blog because otherwise I’d spend ALL my free time locked in the bathroom reading trashy novels cleaning house, and that’s no way to live.

I plan to keep my three girls (Sally 7, Susan 3 1/2, and Spot 18 mo) around because, hey, they give me stuff to write about. And my husband (Dick) is the reason, the reason I get up in the morning (he never turns off his alarm) and the reason I go to bed at night (he nags until I turn out the light).

I thought I’d introduce myself by telling you what I’ve learned in some of the places I’ve been. I’d love to hear what you know and where you come from.

Where I’ve Been

Fort Worth — Chiggers, while high in protein, are not a good baby food.

Fallbrook — A deep (4 ft) hole at the beach feels like the center of the earth.

Twentynine Palms — Hell is a marine town in the desert with a disinterested 3rd grade teacher. Heaven is building intricate irrigation works in the sand with neighborhood kids.

Corvallis — It’s really gloomy (and green, yeah, yeah) when the sun doesn’t come out. Ever.

Salina — Some girls are mean. Really mean. Other girls make being friends the best thing ever. Even if they do end up marrying your 5th grade boyfriend.

Woodland Hills — A small town, made up of people who have moved there on purpose, can be a great place to grow up.

Provo — College really is the best years of your life. Until you get married and that’s the best.

Hon-Atsugi — If you find 100 yen (about a dollar) in a park, you turn it in to the police. And you don’t let your husband go out at night with colleagues.

Harlem — As long as your neighbors know that you’re even poorer than they are, they’ll leave you alone. Until you get pregnant, and then they’ll be really friendly.

The Bronx — To enter the best, best (and worst most challenging) years of your life, start having babies.

Cairo — Everyone should get to have a maid and to be a maid at some point in their life. Surprisingly, it is almost as weird to have one as to be one.

St. Petersburg — “Wet” heat really is worse than dry heat, but it’s a lot easier on your skin.

The West — Someday the grass will be greener right. where. we. are. Someday.

—

Now tell me all about you. Please? Also, check out the list of prizes for the UBP. My good friend Shalece and I are offering one of her unique Fortune Cookie Kits as prize #102. She did all the work, and I’m doing some advertising. If I were remotely entrepreneurally talented, I’d offer something of my own.

As it is, the Fortune Cookie Kit is a great prize; personalized fortune cookies are awesome, and making them is fun, something you can do with the kids (except the folding-the-extremely-hot-cookie part at the end. Turn on Little Einsteins during that part). Okay. Go. Party! Comment.

Maybe she’s not the logical prodigy I thought she was. Or, maybe she really is like those apparently angelic kids who lived in Christ’s time (the ones He said were meek and mild).

Soup is forgiving: it takes a little of this and a little of that and a whole lot of heavy cream. So forgiving, in fact, that it’s hard for me to write down a recipe, because it’ll look like this: a handful of spinach, a pinch of curry, enough salt, a little more cream.

But i have to say (they of the great blog title) is having a Recipe Box Swap with a money-saving theme, and so I’ve decided to write down my take on a fantastic dish at my favorite Indian restaurant, Bombay House. I searched for a copycat recipe (because we’re cheap like that) and found this to be a good starting point.

I serve my Saag Shorba with homemade flour tortillas. I know, naan would be more authentic, but I’ve had a lot more success with tortillas, and the main ingredient difference is the yogurt, which we don’t miss enough for me to keep struggling with naan. If you have a fail-proof naan recipe, please share! In the cost-saving mode, you can also buy huge bags of ready-to-cook tortillas in the refrigerator section of Costco. Once you make your own tortillas, it’s hard to go back to the ready-made.

At the store

My soup calls for ingredients you can find at your local grocery store (or even Walmart). Ethnic groceries are sprouting everywhere, but they’re usually not so conducive to saving money. If you want to mince your own fresh ginger and mix your own curry powder with real saffron, go for it, and send me a picture. We’re pretty much philistines around here, and easily satisfied with generic versions of most things.

Saag Shorba, WAM?-style; serves 4

1 onion, chopped fine
2-5 cloves garlic, minced
butter and oil for sauteeing (butter for flavor, oil to keep the butter from burning easily)
2 handfuls of frozen spinach, drained
1 15 oz can of tomato sauce
1-3 TBSP curry powder
pinch of ground ginger and/or cayenne
2-4 TBSP of chicken stock base OR 1-3 cups chicken stock (or vegetable), depending on how soupy you want it. We actually roll up our tortillas with the “soup” inside almost like a burrito, so we like it really thick.
1/2 – 1 cup heavy cream (or milk, you diet-happy people)

Saute onions and garlic ’til translucent and sweet; add spinach and tomato sauce, simmering until spinach is tender. Add seasonings. Pour heavy cream into blender and add soup; blend until desired smoothness. Enjoy!

One thing to keep in mind is that, as with other spinach-rich foods, it’s important to introduce this slowly to your kids’ diet. My two youngest (18 mo and 3 1/2) love this, but an overdose can have seriously messy consequences.

Soft Flour Tortillas (thanks, Suzy A.); makes 8 tortillas

2 cups white flour (wheat would be healthier, but I just can’t do whole grains for everything, and tortillas are one food that require that bad white flour)
4 TBSP butter
1 tsp salt
water (start with 1/2 c)

Combine ingredients, adding water slowly until dough is similar to bread dough but maybe a bit stickier. Knead 30 times, cover with damp cloth, and let rest 30 minutes. (Good to start these first, then do soup, then while it simmers after blending, cook tortillas). Heat heavy skillet to medium high.

Divide dough into 8 balls and keep covered while rolling out each ball into a 8-10 in diameter on heavily floured surface. Place on skillet and turn as soon as brown spots appear (you’ll see corresponding puffs on the top side). Remove from skillet and place immediately in airtight container or plastic bag. This keeps them soft and steamy.

I had some leftover homemade play dough that the kids played with while I made these, which was good, because you have to keep the kids occupied if you don’t want them poking in your dough and touching hot skillets. The two doughs looked identical, so no one felt left out.

Easy Salt Dough: 2 cups flour, 1 cup salt, 1 TBSP oil, enough water to form dough, food coloring if desired. Mix and enjoy!

There, cheap restaurant-quality dish AND cheap play dough. Who could ask for anything more?