Taste Test

I made some killer homemade macaroni and cheese on Thursday and served the left-overs for dinner tonight. Witness my 4 year-old enjoying her macaroni and cheese:
For the record, in the Poppins household, homemade doesn't mean heating up a Kraft product. Here's the backstory. Homemade macaroni and cheese is usually a crowd pleaser and I wasn't in the mood for any arguments or whining. I had to take the girls in to get their flu shots earlier today and so neither one was feeling their best. When my older daughter complained that she didn't "like the taste of the cheese," I normally would have said "tough," or some other equally compassionate motherly words of wisdom. Instead I caved and rustled up some Easy Mac (which I have never made before and although it was easy, I can't believe I fed it to my child. Partly because right on the directions it says: "Note: you will see loose white powder in Pasta. This is necessary for proper cooking." I don't know what appalls me more: the fact that they capitalized "Pasta" for no apparent reason, or the fact that it contains an ambiguous white powder that acts as a cooking catalyst. What exactly could that substance be and who exactly is editing their directions?).

When talking to Bert on the phone tonight, our 4 year old said she liked the new macaroni and cheese better because it's "thinner, shorter, and straighter." Can't argue with that. The homemade macaroni and cheese that she passed up is indeed thicker, longer, and curvier:
It also tastes better. Both my 18 month-old and I cleaned our plates. Although maybe that's not saying a whole lot since my 18 month-old is content to eat dry macaroni straight from the box.

The Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by Kraft. When you consume their Easy Mac you don't dirty many dishes):
2:00pm. To quote my daughter, "It's working out better as we're moving along." True.

What a Difference a Day Makes

The proverbial you-know-what hit the fan at the Poppins household today. Sadly, the dishwasher was not spared. Check out today's Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by the hope that tomorrow will be a better day):
1:55pm. I didn't even bother trying to clean it up for 5 minutes before taking the picture. This casualty was way beyond the point where a 5 minute pick-me-up would actually help. The day was a bit out of control on many fronts. I'll spare you all the details but will give you a few of the highlights (or rather, low points as it were):
1. Bert left this morning for a week-long trip (not for fun mind you, although being anywhere for a week by myself sounds like more fun than dealing with what I've got going on right now). It feels like there's no relief in sight.
2. My 18 month-old fell asleep in the car on the way home from work this morning. I let my 4 year-old out of the car and told her to be quiet since the baby was sleeping. Upon reaching our door with my sleeping child in arms, my older daughter let out a loud yell for no apparent reason, and thereby awakened her sister from her 5 minute-long nap.
3. While grocery shopping this afternoon, my fussy 18 month-old (I can't imagine why she'd be fussy at this point) insisted on holding onto the box of pasta. Looking to minimize tantrums, I relented. Besides, I reasoned the box wasn't breakable. Well a few minutes into our shopping excursion I noticed she'd managed to open the box of pasta. Not wanting to be the cause of an aisle cleanup, I took it from her and placed it in the basket at which point she screamed in protest. Lo and behold when she opened her mouth I found about a dozen pieces of dried macaroni shoved into her mouth. One finger sweep and one gag reflex later and her mouth was choking hazard-free. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson from the bead experience.
The girls are now in bed, the dishwasher is running, and I am going to sit and watch The Great Debaters. It's supposed to be a feel-good movie where the underdogs overcome great obstacles and get a chance to shine. Sounds exactly like the kind of inspiration this underdog needs today (it also doesn't hurt that it features Denzel Washington. A little Denzel never fails to make everything seem a bit better).

It's All About the Benjamins

Here's a fun Mary Poppins fact for you: I work part-time as a teacher. OK, so that fact isn't as "fun" as say the fact that I can do the best disco back-step you've ever seen (several witnesses attest to this fact by the way. It's indisputable). I mostly teach dance classes for preschool-aged children (one look at my back-stepping ability and I was hired). It's a pretty sweet gig since I can take my kids with me and we all enjoy dancing around together.
Yesterday afternoon I received a call from my desperate boss who was looking for a last minute sub for an art class that started in one hour. Did I mention that I teach dance? Well, I was her last resort and let's face it, in this economic climate who couldn't use the extra cash? I said yes and schlepped my kids off to the art studio for what I assumed would be a fun artistic adventure. Adventure? Yes. Artistic? Mostly. Fun? Try dangerous.
I surprised myself by coming up with a pretty clever art project that involved ribbons, plastic tubing, and beads. Sounds pedestrian I know, but it was quite the hit with the 7 and 8 year-old girls. Here's what I didn't realize. When teaching a last-minute art class with your kids in tow, coming up with an art project is only half of the battle. The other half is figuring out what to do with your toddler in an art studio. I'm used to teaching in a dance studio which is basically a large empty room with a mirrored wall. Dangerous objects usually don't find their way into the dance room. The art studio is a different matter entirely. It's a paradise for toddlers with a penchant for mischief.
Twice while helping a student I was interrupted by another, more observant, student giving me updates about my 18 month-old. "Your baby's got the scissors" was the first alarm that sounded only 10 minutes into the class. I jerked my head up, not to see her sitting calmly near a pair of scissors as I had hoped, but instead to see my child running, scissors in hand, maniacal grin plastered on her face. A game of chase ensued involving several of the students, my 4 year-old and myself in hot pursuit of the scissor-toting offender. Fortunately the scissors were retrieved before any major harm befell anyone.
Feeling like a pretty terrific mom at this point, I gathered up all of the scissors and placed them out of her reach. And things went really smoothly from then on. Until another 10 minutes had passed. I was careful to keep closer tabs on my 18 month-old. She was sitting at my feet when one of the other students announced "Your baby's eating the beads." Really? The child who stopped mouthing objects months ago? Indeed she was. Not just one or two. But a fistful, apparently. Her cheeks were enlarged and lumpy and I could hear the beads rattling around in her mouth. Two finger sweeps and several gag reflexes later, she was bead-free. I, however, was a bit unnerved at this point and am still unsure how I was able to finish the class with my sanity and my child's health and well-being intact.
With the Dow plunging to 8,5something today leaving me (and most Americans) in need of some more Benjamins, I have to take these subbing opportunities as they come. Next time my boss calls, desperate for an art sub, I'll answer "sure" and then announce at the beginning of class: "Welcome to art, kids. Today we'll be trying something new. Now if you'll just follow me down the hall into the dance room I'll teach you how to back-step like a pro."

Today's Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by attentive mothers everywhere--please tell me I'm not the only one):2:36pm. What's up with the sewing machine? You mean you don't have a sewing machine on your dishwasher? Well, get with the times, folks. It's what everyone's doing these days. Seriously, I have no space in my house. Usually the sewing machine is in storage but I had to mend a parachute yesterday (again, for work), and I have a couple more items to mend today so I needed to keep the sewing machine handy in the interim. And what place is more handy than the top of a dishwasher? It just screams: "Put your Singer on me, baby!"

It's All About the Sink

Witness the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by sugar cookies. Bert made them with the kids this evening. Now I have something to go with that frosting).
Time: 2:09pm

Admittedly, it looks suspiciously similar to yesterday's report. BUT, if you'll scroll down to yesterday's post--no don't scroll, use that sweet tip I taught you by pressing on the Space bar, that's the one--I swear to you that you'll notice this is indeed a different picture. If you look closely, you'll see there are dirty lunch dishes stacked in the sink above (yesterday the sink was empty). Before passing judgment, know that the dishwasher pictured above was in the midst of the drying cycle and the dishes in the sink were dirtied during lunch while the dishwasher was running. And really, where else can you place dirty dishes when your dishwasher is in the middle of a cleaning cycle? And now that a picture has been posted and an explanation has been given, those sugar cookies are calling my name. I'm off to consume one or two.

OK Computer

Hi. My name is Mary, and I'm a technophobe.

Hi Mary.

It's been 3 weeks since I last resisted the urge to try some new technology. I've been blogging for a few weeks now and I've learned a smattering of new, useful, tech savvy skills:
a. I created a blog by myself.
b. I discovered how to turn off the flash and I mastered the self-timer on my digital camera.
c. I uploaded photos from my digital camera onto my computer multiple times.
d. I found the location of those photos on my computer and then posted them on my blog.
e. I even managed to post on my blog a video clip from another website.
As you can see, I've been acquiring a whole new skill set. Maybe Google or Microsoft of Apple will want to hire me. With cutting-edge skills like these, who wouldn't want me?

The way I approach technology, you'd think I was raised in the 70's when the Atari was a big deal. The truth is I grew up playing Frogger on one of the original 1983 Macintosh home computers. You know, the ones that look like an upright shoebox with a screen on the top half and a slot for the disk on the lower half.
They're pretty much the same as the MacBook Air, only cooler, sleeker, and a bit more portable.

I've always been surrounded by home computers, I've just never really taken to them, despite having to use them to type countless papers throughout high school, college, and graduate school. Make no mistake about it, I can type like nobody's business--just don't ask me to create a power point presentation.

In the spirit of improvement, I read an article in the New York Times today and decided to expand my knowledge even further. Who knew that double clicking on a word highlights it? True. Try it. Now. Neat, huh? You can also hit the Space bar and the Web page will scroll down. Did you do it and find yourself reading one of my posts from earlier this week? Did you hold down the Shift key while hitting the Space bar again to scroll back up? Well, you can. It works! With tips like these, I might actually get excited about computers and refuse to be a technophobe any longer. Technophobes, read on!

Do you see that? I just created a permalink to the article on my blog. A week ago, I didn't even know what a permalink was!

And for further evidence of my mastery of technology, behold the photo (taken with my digital camera) of the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by homemade frosting. It's on my mind lately since I ate a rather large helping of it earlier today when I found a container of it in the back of the fridge. What can I say? I'm a sucker for homemade frosting.):

Photo taken at approximately 3:00pm (later than usual) because I was working out on the elliptical at 2:00pm when the photo should have been taken. This is an authentic picture, folks. No photoshopping. Please, like I could figure out how to use Photoshop.

Introducing the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report

For those of you who have been with me from the beginning, you may recall that I totally kicked butt with overcoming vice no. 1. I know, I know, it sounds very arrogant. But the fact of the matter is I totally suck at trying to overcome vice no. 2. So, I am tooting my own horn here for a moment, rejoicing in past accomplishments, before I have to face the present and talk about how I failed my current challenge.
TOOT! TOOT! (That's the sound of me tooting my own horn.)
Enough of that. I had a much better feeling at the end of week 1 when I was focusing on working out. I set a clear goal for working out and accomplished it. I feel like I set a clear goal this time too, but as I stated last week, being in control of the dirty dishes requires constant attention. I don't just do it once for the day and then check it off of my "to do" list. It's hard to stay on top of. Furthermore, it's been hard for me to chart my progress with this issue on the blog. I can't simply write "yes" or "no," like I've done with working out.
I think we can all agree that I work well when I have to be accountable to someone for something. This is where you come in. You are my someone. When I know that you're checking in, I want to deliver as opposed to disappoint. So, I'm instigating something new here at bMP. Meet the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report.
Collective Blog Readers: "What are you all about, Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report?"
Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report: "Every day at 2:00(ish)pm, MP will take a picture of the dishwasher/sink area as is. NO CHEATING! Then she will post said picture on the blog that day so that you can see the progress (or lack thereof) that she's making."
Collective Blog Readers: "How could MP cheat?"
Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report: "You've got to keep your eye on her. She can be a tricky one. She could, for example, position the camera at an angle that hides any and all flaws. She could take the photo at an earlier or later time of the day when things are more pristine. She could use the same photo day after day so that she projects the image of keeping order when in reality you can hardly see her dishwasher through all of the clutter. She could even move all of the clutter to the kitchen table, beyond the view of the camera lens. She's never done that before, but she could."
Collective Blog Readers: "Let's assume she'll be honest. Why 2:00pm?"
Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report: "Because MP's little one needs to sleep every afternoon and she's usually home at that time for her nap."
Collective Blog Readers: "But Mary Poppins, we don't really care to see your dishwasher/sink area every day."

What can I say? Neither do I, but there it is, staring me in the face, day after day. Note: I won't be posting solely about the dishwasher every day, but the pic will appear regardless of the post topic. If I'm going to make any progress at all I need some motivation. In this situation, I think it will be quite motivating to know that I have to visually display the dish traffic every day. It will force me to stay on top of things. So, if you're really averse to seeing this daily then here's a spoiler alert: dishwasher picture immediately to follow (you may want to avert your eyes).


Behold, my dishwasher today at 2:03pm. I can sense that you're a bit perplexed. The dishwasher is not in its usual location. I may have mentioned that here at the Poppins household we're a bit old-school. That, my friends, is an old-school dishwasher. One that hooks up to your sink when it's running. Your grandma probably had one. I know that my grandma who was born in 1905 had one. And in 2008, I'm proud to say that I have one. So for those of you who still don't understand, allow me to translate. At 2:03pm, the dishes were all in the dishwasher in the process of being cleaned. I did it. TOOT! TOOT!

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

My girls love shoes. So do I (although not in an extreme Imelda Marcos kind of way). "Shoe," pronounced "hoo," was one of my younger daughter's first words. Maybe there's some shoe-loving gene that always manifests itself with XX. Since they are so drawn to footwear, my girls play with the shoes constantly. Not just their shoes. All shoes in the household. At any given hour of any given day you can find shoes strewn across my floor like old-fashioned bear traps, waiting to trip up and ensnare a less than cautious passer-by.
5:00pm today found all of the shoes on a heap in front of my 4 year-old's toy kitchen. Was she cooking up some sort of shoe delicacy? Opening up a pretend Japanese restaurant and requiring all patrons to leave their shoes at the door? Accepting footwear as a valid form or currency for her services? No idea. Upon discovering said heap, I told her she must put them away because it was time for dinner. Yes. You read that right. We eat dinner at 5:00pm. Like old people in a retirement community. Moving on...
As we sat down to dinner I noticed the shoe pile had vanished. I had wrongfully assumed they were put back on the shelf in our front entryway. Instead, I found this:
Notice the empty shelf right next to the shoe pile.
(Brief interjection: Bert is wonderful, incredibly supportive, and at times a bit of a smart-ass). Here's a transcript of the lecture Bert gave our 4 year-old following the discovery of the second shoe pile.
Bert: You can't just move the pile from one place to another and call that cleaning up.
(Bert pauses, then delivers a pointed glance in my direction.)
Bert: I'm telling you this because you might not learn it somewhere else.

Mary Poppins: Like from her mother?

Thanks for the not so subtle hint, Bert. I got it.

Sometimes Mary Poppins isn't the best woman for the job

At 1:33pm today this was the state of my problem area:

As you can see, the clean dishes are of course in the dishwasher (and have been sitting there all morning long) and not in the cupboards, where they belong. There's also a glass (and by glass, I mean plastic cup) on top of the dishwasher. Tsk, tsk, tsk. At least it's not a pile of junk mail, right? Does it count as an improvement if the dirty dishes are neatly stacked outside of the sink? I thought not.
This is trickier than I envisioned. To quote an ABBA classic, I don't think I'm "finally facing my Waterloo" with this challenge. I will overcome vice no. 2, it's just not as simple as I thought it would be. With working out, I do it once for the day and then it's over and I can feel wonderful that I accomplished something. I like that kind of gratification. I'm noticing that this whole dish business requires me to be consistently vigilant. Apparently I'm not so great at giving something my constant attention. This is why I wouldn't make a good gardener, or ER doc, or babysitter. Seriously folks. Next time you might want to think about calling Nanny McPhee before you call Mary Poppins.

Unanticipated Consequences

Fact: Mary Poppins has a master's degree in political science.
Fact: In political science we talk a fair amount about unanticipated consequences of policies and programs.
Fact: The following picture perfectly illustrates one unanticipated consequence of keeping the top of my dishwasher void of clutter.
Fact: The giant candy bowl has now been moved to a more secure location.

Extreme Makeover: Dishwasher Edition

After some hard labor this afternoon, here's what I managed to accomplish:
I'm no Ty Pennington, mind you, so the plant, flowers, candle, napkin holder, and candy bowl (yes, it's true, our candy bowl is larger than life--that's how my uber-sweet tooth and I roll) are there for practical, not aesthetic, purposes. The theory is that if I have specific items placed strategically on the dishwasher, there won't be any space left where I can dump my random _________. (noun--fill in the blank with your favorite word for that which formerly occupied the top of the dishwasher and plagues other areas of my house as well.)

In the interest of full disclosure, I'll show you the same view after taking a few steps back:
Upon further review, I decided that it doesn't really count if I just move all of the _________ (again, fill in the blank--don't forget it's a noun) from one surface to another. Rest assured, by dinnertime I corrected the mistake. The Poppins's table and dishwasher are now officially clear of any and all _______. (noun)

If the kitchen is the heart of the home...

Then we're in need of a major quadruple bypass. Stat.
If you were to come to my house right now (you'd love that opportunity wouldn't you?), you might see something like this:Who am I kidding? That is exactly what you'd see. Pictures don't lie (unless we're talking about those pictures they love to show on the front page of the Enquirer. You know, the ones that feature the 800 lb baby, the boy who is half bat, or Britney Spears actually buckling her child into his carseat. Come on, you know that didn't happen).
Before you judge me too harshly, let me just say that my family lives in a place that is only 800 square feet. Break that down Mary Poppins-style and you'll realize that's only 200 square feet per person. Factor in that Bert is 7 feet tall and 3 feet wide and you'll discover that his person takes up a majority of the space, leaving little room for anything (or anyone) else. OK, so Bert's not gigantic. I'm just fishing for ways to justify my untidiness. To recap, we have a lot of stuff squeezed into a small space. Unfortunately that alone cannot explain the chaos captured in these pictures.
The problem in this kitchen area is twofold:
1. I have a hard time staying on top of the dishes. I often don't unload the dishwasher right away which leads to a pileup of dishes in the sink and on the counter. Before I know it, dirty dishes have overtaken the kitchen. Like so:
2. The top of the dishwasher is a separate issue, but since it's in the same area, I'm going to tackle it too. When I have something in hand that doesn't have a home, I place it on the dishwasher. This could be anything, really--preschool papers, junk mail, important mail, bins of various sizes, I'm sure if we looked hard enough we might even be able to find a government rebate check lurking under there somewhere. Do you see one? Seriously, I could use some extra cash right now. I'd be most appreciative if you uncovered one for me.
So for my next challenge, I'm going to (let's be very clear about this):
1. empty the dishwasher as soon as the dishes are clean. That will allow me to...
2. place all dirty dishes directly in the dishwasher, so that i can...
3. keep the sink clean and clear, and while I'm at it...
4. keep the top of the dishwasher clutter-free.

FYI, I'm not abandoning the workout plan. I'll keep posting brief updates on that vice so that you can continue to cheer me on. Because where would I be without you readers? Evidently I'd be sitting on my flat butt buried under a mountain of clutter and dirty dishes, searching for that rebate check.