Anyone for chopping, dicing, or shredding?

So it's my mom's birthday last week and we are out doing what birthday girls do - you know, things like schlepping around a department store trying out hip reading glasses, putting on silly winter hats that are on clearance and my all time favorite - bra shopping.  So you already know this day is going to rock!  With a start like that?  Can't go wrong.  Well, while my mom and I are giggling and making fun of each other, my dad is actually doing some worthwhile shopping.  When we are reunited at the cosmetics counter, my dad says, "Hey, I think I know what we should get for your birthday!  How about a new 7- cup Pro Food Processor??"  Oh, yeah - now we are giddy - this is gonna be great!!
So, with eyes all aglow, we purchase the heavily attachment induced appliance and head out the door with smiles all around - what could be better??!"
The moment we hit the front door, we are unpacking and inspecting, looking for fantastic new recipes and envisioning ourselves as the next Martha Stewart of Easy One Step Food Prep!  A-ha!  There is even a DVD!!!  Well, we must watch this - it surely is our ticket to an easy street life complete with no-hassle, one touch button operation, easy clean-up, and a happy family!
So now I have my recently purchased food processor out as well and we are ready for a chop-o-matic fiesta!  We watch the 7- Cup Pro Food Processor Chef carefully as he shows us the proper use of each attachment with all of its wonders.  Then we are quick to decide what we are going to make and who will do what.  A trip to the grocery market is in order, and then we are quickly back to work.  Here is the menu: basil pesto for the salmon and new potatoes we will prepare for supper, delicious, fresh salsa made with fresh ingredients, and for the piece de resistance: apple, pear, blueberry pie made with light as a feather, flaky pastry - that we will create on our very own with our 7 Cup Pro Food Processor!
The whirring begins.  There is slicing, shredding, chopping, dicing and julienning - it's a sharp item addict's dream!  Presto! The pesto is complete - now on to the salsa!  Yum - another item finished!
It seems there is a bit of confusion with the pie recipe - yes, we will refer to the DVD.  No problem - we are back on track.  OK, our pace has begun to slow, but we are not beaten.  We press on.  A little more distress with the pie - no matter, we are champions of chopping - we will persevere.  The phone rings - and I am now officially on break... for about an hour.
I return to the kitchen and this is what I find: my mom dusted with flour from head to toe, a mountain of several sliced fruits piled on the island, pastry dough that looks as though we made it out of play-dough lopped over a "pie" of epic proportions, and an array of attachments strewn from one end of the kitchen to the other.  And worst of all, my mother is on the brink of tears and politely asks me if she can just lie down for a moment.
As any good daughter would do, I graciously excuse my exhausted mother from the kitchen and begin my comedy routine - because as we all know - there's no crying in baseball and there's certainly no crying while making pies!  At the end of it all my mom and I are laughing so hard that we are crying - as we mock the
 "I Couldn't Get a Job as a Real Chef "actor with the stupid chef's hat on who can supposedly use just one finger to prepare a feast fit for gods!  The laughter continues as my rather subdued mother proclaims where she'd like to "stick that hat!"
As you can probably guess, the 7 Cup Pro Food Processors have been shoved far back into the depths of darkness in a cupboard where they can cause no consternation... until of course, we choose to amaze our friends and family once again with the one step wonder.

Silver Lining: I do love a good laugh served with sliced food! And the pie was a nice dessert diversion from our regular "have a piece of fruit for dessert" routine.

Pictures

Today I was sorting through some photos in my over-stuffed "My Pictures" file on my computer and came across a rather interesting picture.  The photo was taken during a special family celebration where many friends and loved ones are standing around and near to the food table eating and cheerfully conversing.  Happy smiles on everyone's faces and glasses of wine being precariously held on to while eating delicate bites of delicious food.  That's the scene.
However, upon closer inspection, I realize there is a small. chubby little hand reaching into a bowl of some exotic, delicious goodie - just a hand... what is this hand connected to you ask??  From under a fancy lace table cloth there seems to be a small child who is hiding his body carefully, but then reaching up and around with his arm to bring his treasures down carefully into his lair. He is very stealthy and obviously thinks he is invisible.
 Yes, this is my 3 year old son in the photo.
Here's the issue:  he has now grown into a respectable, bright and lively 3rd grader who occassionally suffers from the rare and impulsive form of DTDBNYB - otherwise known as Dumb Things Done By Nine Year-old Boys.  This past week has been one raught with serious flare-ups of the disease - and as most moms do at one time or another, I have been beating myself up over his antics with questions like, "What have I done wrong?  Have I not been a good role model?  Have I fed him too much corn syrup?  Does he think I can't see him and that he thinks he... is ....invisible... hmmm... or something?"  Ah-Hah! he must have the latent form of DTDBNYB - you know, the one that makes the "inflicted" have lapses of typical three year old behaviors.

Silver Lining: Medical breakthroughs such as the one mentioned above don't happen every day!!

If I could paint myself with special paint that made me invisible...

  I would visit all the "Secret Rooms" of the world.  For instance, when buying a car, you make small talk with white-teethed salesmen for as long as you can take it, and then when an offer has been made, they have to go take your offer their "people" to see if they can make that deal work. This can take anywhere from 10 minutes to 580 minutes.  I would like to know if they are actually running numbers to see how this deal impacts their dealership financially - or are they simply watching a game and shootin' the breeze?
Next I would slather up in the invisible paint and go visit the kitchen of the restaurant to where I just sent my meal back.  Are they actually carefully remaking my dish to my specifications - or are they simply spitting on it, throwing it the microwave, and ever-so-gently sprinkling a bit more cilantro on it?
And my favorite and final destination: ANY room that says: NO ADMITTANCE - the closest I have ever come to entrance into a room such as this is a Teacher's Lounge - but now they don't really put those signs out any more - it's more likely to say, "Teacher Workroom" - which isn't nearly as intruiging.

Silver Lining: When my son puts signs on his door that say things like "Boys Only" - he always writes in small letters at the bottom: "Except for Mom."  He knows a sign like that is only an open invitation for a curious mom like myself.

The Spork

What possesses a child at the age of six to proclaim to her mother, "I think I would like to use only sporks from now on..." ??  Whaat?  "Yes, Mom, I said sporks.  They are good because they are like two things in one and they are funny looking.  I also think they should be made for American Girl Dolls - you know, little ones with teensy weensy sharp points."
So I am thinking about this and the logistics of making a wholesale change in utensils.  This is what I think: Sporks are NOT good because they AREN'T like two things in one - they are like NO things when it comes to purpose.  They don't really stab anything AND then there are those spiky little things on the end that poke your tongue while you eat...yum...mmmmm... ow!... nothin' like eatin' salad with a spork.

Silver Lining: This too shall pass... I think...

Random Bits

When I was growing up, it was very typical to have small rivets and screws on the tops of dressers, the top of the refrigerator and rolling around in the junk drawer.  Where and what these bits were from were often unknown and were eventually thrown out... or relocated.  I thought this was a normal phenomenon for everyone... until I met the man I would marry.  Odds and ends don't fit into his schedule or organization system.  If there's an errant screw or nail rolling around anywhere, it is immediately picked up, examined quickly and then thrown out if it's use cannot be identified within 3 seconds of picking it up.  There is a place for everything and everything (come H*ll or highwater) should be in it's place.
So I have learned to either hide the tiny pins and earring backs I might need some day - or quickly throw them away hoping I will never need them again.  Herein lies today's subject: the pocket contents of a nine year old boy and his attachment to those contents - knowing that if they leave his pockets, they may immediately disappear into thin air.  As Chief Executive and Operating Officer of the Washing Machine, I have decided to protect the interests and future opportunities of the nine year old.  I have now collected enough bits and pieces of legos, rocks, marbles, staples, small toys, felt scraps, foam darts, and fishing gear to build a robot that would probably wash the clothes for me.  So today when I found two teeny, tiny light bulbs on the top of Joseph's dresser carefully hidden behing a picture frame, I was ecstatic!  If I put these with the rest of the hidden collection - I will have eyes for my robot!!
What has become of me?  Domestic Engineer turned Double Agent

Silver Lining:  I hear the pay is better...

Bad Timing

I have walked through the water.  This must have been my "hero's journey."  I just finished my 5 mile walk only to be washed down my street - literally.  Yes, the day came.  The near-sighted walker who was wearing her old sunglasses that don't supply the prescription power needed anymore (because - get this - she couldn't SEE her other glasses lying on the counter) met up with a rather oblivious city worker who decided to flush the fire hydrant in the "hero's" front yard as she was making her way UPHILL to her home - supposedly a place of peace and rest.
Yes - I am wet.  Am I beaten? No.  The city worker will live to see another day - because he didn't die of laughter - yet.  That will be a slow death that happens over and over and over again in his dingy breakroom where all city workers go to eat their lunches and to tell their best stories of the day.

Silver Lining: No need to shower now...

Sleep Habits

So I check on my kids before I go to bed every night - they've already been asleep for a number of hours hopefully by that time.  Tonight I do the check.  One is completely surrounded by stuffed animals in his bed, around his bed - generally it's an animal abudanza.  The other has chosen one animal to be her company for the evening.  It also appears as though she was holding a very close and important conversation with this one carefully chosen bear.  After my eyes adjust to the light and I get close (to make sure she is breathing), I realize that she is holding the bear so that they are nose to nose and she has tied the bear to her neck (loosely) with her sheet.  It must have been a crucial conversation.  These are my children - even in their deepest sleep they still hold strong to their personalities: one is all about quantity and haphazardness - many interactions with a number of random animals - the other is all about carefully measured out conversations with carefully selected "friends."  How does this happen even during sleep? 

Silver Lining:  Even when I ignore the blog for a number of weeks - it will still take me back.  Welcome to the random world of Julie.