Introducing!!! Dogs in a Sweater, the more fun, interesting and tasty version of pigs in a blanket. Actually, I found this idea somewhere else, but have changed it to use my bread recipe, which was passed to me from my mother in law. It is the best bread recipe I have ever, ever come across for just bread rolls, biscuits, and now, dogs in a sweater. So, here is what you will need-
Hot dogs
Popsicle sticks (I found some in the art section of Smiths ;) )
And bread, using the following recipe:
Bread-stick/Biscuits Recipe
1 cup WARM water
2 tbs sugar
2 tbs yeast
1 tsp salt
2 tbs oil
3 cups flour
Preheat over to 450
Mix water, sugar, yeast, salt, and oil together. Let sit for about 5 minutes to let yeast bubble.
Slowly (1 cup at a time) add flour, mixing well. The last cup usually needs to be added by hand.
Take hot dogs, and skewer with popsicle sticks. Leave as much as you want for a handle.
Take dough, make "snake" about 16 inches long (depending on your hot dog) and starting at the top, wrap around to the bottom.
Bake for 5-8 minutes, until bread is golden brown. DO NOT OVER COOK! It is possible to burn the popsicle sticks and light them on fire...which is our next recipe: Roasted Dogs in a Sweater.
But actually, I adore this bread recipe. It is just awesome, and it is also the bread I use when I make Stromboli. Delicious!!!
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Saturday, May 19, 2012
SkippyJon Jones and other choices
I know, I am blogging 2 days in a row, it is crazy to me too. Mainly this occurred to me, and I wanted to write it down and also, our computer is up and running, thus why I am able to post and also why Zach has made a facebook reappearance. You are welcome, world!
So Bishop has come to an age that his little independence is sometimes stifling. For us as parents, that is. Actually, stifle is the wrong word. He is getting fairly mouthy. A perfect example is that we will be all together in the car, and he will be saying, "Hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad" While Zach is talking to me about something, and I will finally cut in with, "What, Bishop?" And he promptly replies, "NO! I'm talkin' to DAD"
Ahem. That is a good example. He has also recently decided that he is the ruler of his own life. Which, to a point, we do allow him to pick things. For example, yesterday, we were spending a Barnes and Noble gift card he got, and I really wanted him to get a certain book (The Story of Ferdinand) and he decided that he wanted to get a different book. That we had never read before and knew nothing about. BUT the book came with a little super-hero cat action figure. THAT was the selling point. And because it was a set, it was all boxed up so I couldn't even glance though to book to be sure it was something we would like. Bishop, however, insisted THAT was the book he absolutely needed. The book is called SkippyJon Jones, and it turns out that it is actually really funny and cute.
It is about a little Siamese cat named SkippyJon who pretends to be a dog and save the day for this other group of little dogs whose beans were all stolen by a bumblebee. It basically makes everything sound Hispanic by adding a 'o' to the end of most words. Here is an example:
Then the smallest of the small ones spoke up.
"Why the maskito, dude?" asked Poquito Tito
"I go incognito," said Skippito.
"Do you like rice and beans?" asked Pintolito.
"Si, I love mice and beans," said Skippito.
"He might be the dog of our dreams," whispered Rosalita.
You see what I am saying here. It is a cute book, and pretty funny, but not the book of my choice. And because it was a card for Bishop...well, whatever, obviously I let him pick. I also bought The Story of Ferdinand, mainly because I wanted it, and I knew that Bishop would actually really like it better (because I am the mom, and know things like that).
Then comes the worst part. Bishop has now decided that he should get to pick out his own clothes. He usually does okay, but today, for example, he is wearing these sweats that are a 3T, meaning, too short, and a 4T shirt, which is fine, but it makes his pants look extra small. And he INSISTED that he needed to wear those pants. Not shorts, not a different pair of pants. Those ones. And I realized a few minutes ago that he looks like a little homeless boy, with his hair a little crazy from his nap, and his too small pants and normal sized shirt. And he is old enough that I can't just change his clothes if I don't like them.
Though, to be honest, if they were really bad and we were going somewhere, I would force the issue. But we are just playing in the backyard, and why not let him pick out his own clothes? The point of this whole blog is that Bishop is growing up and become autonomous, and it makes me sad.
The End.
So Bishop has come to an age that his little independence is sometimes stifling. For us as parents, that is. Actually, stifle is the wrong word. He is getting fairly mouthy. A perfect example is that we will be all together in the car, and he will be saying, "Hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad" While Zach is talking to me about something, and I will finally cut in with, "What, Bishop?" And he promptly replies, "NO! I'm talkin' to DAD"
Ahem. That is a good example. He has also recently decided that he is the ruler of his own life. Which, to a point, we do allow him to pick things. For example, yesterday, we were spending a Barnes and Noble gift card he got, and I really wanted him to get a certain book (The Story of Ferdinand) and he decided that he wanted to get a different book. That we had never read before and knew nothing about. BUT the book came with a little super-hero cat action figure. THAT was the selling point. And because it was a set, it was all boxed up so I couldn't even glance though to book to be sure it was something we would like. Bishop, however, insisted THAT was the book he absolutely needed. The book is called SkippyJon Jones, and it turns out that it is actually really funny and cute.
It is about a little Siamese cat named SkippyJon who pretends to be a dog and save the day for this other group of little dogs whose beans were all stolen by a bumblebee. It basically makes everything sound Hispanic by adding a 'o' to the end of most words. Here is an example:
Then the smallest of the small ones spoke up.
"Why the maskito, dude?" asked Poquito Tito
"I go incognito," said Skippito.
"Do you like rice and beans?" asked Pintolito.
"Si, I love mice and beans," said Skippito.
"He might be the dog of our dreams," whispered Rosalita.
You see what I am saying here. It is a cute book, and pretty funny, but not the book of my choice. And because it was a card for Bishop...well, whatever, obviously I let him pick. I also bought The Story of Ferdinand, mainly because I wanted it, and I knew that Bishop would actually really like it better (because I am the mom, and know things like that).
Then comes the worst part. Bishop has now decided that he should get to pick out his own clothes. He usually does okay, but today, for example, he is wearing these sweats that are a 3T, meaning, too short, and a 4T shirt, which is fine, but it makes his pants look extra small. And he INSISTED that he needed to wear those pants. Not shorts, not a different pair of pants. Those ones. And I realized a few minutes ago that he looks like a little homeless boy, with his hair a little crazy from his nap, and his too small pants and normal sized shirt. And he is old enough that I can't just change his clothes if I don't like them.
Though, to be honest, if they were really bad and we were going somewhere, I would force the issue. But we are just playing in the backyard, and why not let him pick out his own clothes? The point of this whole blog is that Bishop is growing up and become autonomous, and it makes me sad.
The End.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Awkward moments from the past revisited.
I only have a moment to write this, as Cadence is insisting that we have a dance party in her room and WILL NOT take 'no' for an answer. So she is sobbing at my feet in the meantime.
I had a quick run-in with a guy today that made an impression in my past. Do I mean an old boyfriend? Of course not. I mean a guy I met in a bowling ally while engaged to Zach that just wouldn't leave me, Zach, or Zach's buddy and his date alone. Literally. Here is the story.
Many moons ago (closing in on 8 years ago, sheesh) Zach and I, in an effort to find something to do in Twin Falls, Idaho, while dating/being engaged, would often go to the bowling ally in Twin Falls to play pool. It was the only place with pool tables and very few drunks ;) So one night, there we are, waiting for a table to open up up, canoodling on some stools, when this guy in a wheelchair rolls up (ahem, literally.) and tells us that he has been watching us. And that we look like good kissers, and how someday, he hopes that he will have a girl like me to kiss. And do I have a twin (this really happened, ask Zach) that he could meet.
We mumble our way through this incredibly awkward conversation while this guy refuses to leave, and keeps talking about how pretty I am, how nice my smile is, how sure am I that I don't have a twin...you get the point. He FINALLY leaves when we get a table, and we think we are safe. A buddy of Zach's from some distant past/fellow youth member/church goer...you get the idea, and his date run into us. They are on their first date, and when she wanders off to go to the bathroom or something along those lines (having never met her before, I wasn't under the "go with her to the bathroom" rule), he tells us that the date is going good, but that she is LDS, and there have been some awkward moments. She comes back, we are all talking, and who should come by? That's right, wheelchair guy. He then dominates the conversation, awkwardly talking about how he doesn't really date, but would like to (while staring me and this girl down) and that he is just looking for the right girl (staring....). Somehow it comes out that he is also LDS and he and the girl start chatting away. I don't really remember the specifics past this, other than that he wouldn't leave, basically hijacked this poor guys first date, and we all left at the same time to escape him.
Zach and I joked about this guy for a LONG time afterwards, and never ran into him again at the bowling alley, thankfully. Basically anytime we saw a guy in a wheelchair, we booked it out of there.
Fast forward to today, and it has been years since I have even thought about this guy. So I am stopped at a stop light on my way home from hanging out with Jemme, and who should roll across the crosswalk in front of me? WHEELCHAIR GUY!!! My window is down, and he says, "Hey, how you doin'?" to which I mumble, "Good" realizing that it is the same guy!!! Then...what does he say?!?!
"You have a really nice smile"
I rolled up my window at this point and drove off. UH...really wheelchair guy?
I am under no belief that he remember who I am. I may have called Zach right away to tell him what happened...because, really!? What are the chances! And that he would make awkward comments again?!
Luckily I wasn't kissing anyone, because we know where that conversation would have gone.
As a side note, I am currently addicted to Christina Perri's A Thousand Years and have listened to it over and over for the last couple of days. Ah.
Also, in the time it has taken me to write this, Cadence fell asleep on my lap, I changed her into PJ's and put her into bed. Dance party postponed until tomorrow. I did just buy her a CD player for her room, thus the need to dance (since there is music, there must be dancing). I love my girl.
I had a quick run-in with a guy today that made an impression in my past. Do I mean an old boyfriend? Of course not. I mean a guy I met in a bowling ally while engaged to Zach that just wouldn't leave me, Zach, or Zach's buddy and his date alone. Literally. Here is the story.
Many moons ago (closing in on 8 years ago, sheesh) Zach and I, in an effort to find something to do in Twin Falls, Idaho, while dating/being engaged, would often go to the bowling ally in Twin Falls to play pool. It was the only place with pool tables and very few drunks ;) So one night, there we are, waiting for a table to open up up, canoodling on some stools, when this guy in a wheelchair rolls up (ahem, literally.) and tells us that he has been watching us. And that we look like good kissers, and how someday, he hopes that he will have a girl like me to kiss. And do I have a twin (this really happened, ask Zach) that he could meet.
We mumble our way through this incredibly awkward conversation while this guy refuses to leave, and keeps talking about how pretty I am, how nice my smile is, how sure am I that I don't have a twin...you get the point. He FINALLY leaves when we get a table, and we think we are safe. A buddy of Zach's from some distant past/fellow youth member/church goer...you get the idea, and his date run into us. They are on their first date, and when she wanders off to go to the bathroom or something along those lines (having never met her before, I wasn't under the "go with her to the bathroom" rule), he tells us that the date is going good, but that she is LDS, and there have been some awkward moments. She comes back, we are all talking, and who should come by? That's right, wheelchair guy. He then dominates the conversation, awkwardly talking about how he doesn't really date, but would like to (while staring me and this girl down) and that he is just looking for the right girl (staring....). Somehow it comes out that he is also LDS and he and the girl start chatting away. I don't really remember the specifics past this, other than that he wouldn't leave, basically hijacked this poor guys first date, and we all left at the same time to escape him.
Zach and I joked about this guy for a LONG time afterwards, and never ran into him again at the bowling alley, thankfully. Basically anytime we saw a guy in a wheelchair, we booked it out of there.
Fast forward to today, and it has been years since I have even thought about this guy. So I am stopped at a stop light on my way home from hanging out with Jemme, and who should roll across the crosswalk in front of me? WHEELCHAIR GUY!!! My window is down, and he says, "Hey, how you doin'?" to which I mumble, "Good" realizing that it is the same guy!!! Then...what does he say?!?!
"You have a really nice smile"
I rolled up my window at this point and drove off. UH...really wheelchair guy?
I am under no belief that he remember who I am. I may have called Zach right away to tell him what happened...because, really!? What are the chances! And that he would make awkward comments again?!
Luckily I wasn't kissing anyone, because we know where that conversation would have gone.
As a side note, I am currently addicted to Christina Perri's A Thousand Years and have listened to it over and over for the last couple of days. Ah.
Also, in the time it has taken me to write this, Cadence fell asleep on my lap, I changed her into PJ's and put her into bed. Dance party postponed until tomorrow. I did just buy her a CD player for her room, thus the need to dance (since there is music, there must be dancing). I love my girl.
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