funny

we were waiting at the dance studio for the completion of briar's tap class, when jacob approached me saying he needed to whisper in my ear. he does that. we (jacob, char & 1)headed off for the bathroom, leaving baby h with my friend connie. he wasn't convinced he could actually poop in the studio's loo, because he'd never done it before. i assured him it was safe, and friendly (the walls are a happy yellow color). a discusion about how colors make us feel ensued, with the surprisingly astute charles commenting that "red makes me mad; orange makes me feel happy." so j-dog, after a long, laborious process (apparently i had put his mind at ease and made him feel so comfy he decided to stretch this out like he does at home. he loves to "sit on the potty and relax") we were scrubbing hands in the sink.
j:"why is it filled with flamingo spit, mom?"
me: "huh?"
j: why is the soap container filled with flamingo spit?"
so i examine the bottle, and guess what's on the outside? two flamingos. gotta love that kid. he told me on saturday (we had a brief hot spell after snow and rain for a week) that he was "sweating hot - like a boiling egg" because i sweatered him before letting him go outside.
my best birthday present ever came from j-dog this morning. we had a rough night last night; emotions ran high and i came down uncharacteristically hard on him. he cried himself to sleep while i fumed in the bathtub. so i was surprised this morning, at 7 am, when he whispered to me in a sleep-fogged voice: "happy birthday, mom". i had gone in after waking up from a strange, panic-filled dream to caress his little blond head. i didn't expect it to wake him. he's like me, a late sleeper and like his dad - a heavy sleeper. the first words out of his mouth were for me, after i let him go to sleep with a tear-soaked pillow. i didn't even tell him it was my birthday. sweet boy.

Best Sunday Breakfast

Blueberry Cream Cheese French Toast Casserole
Here's my favorito dish for Sunday mornings...it's sweet, filling, and you prepare it all the night before. When you wake up, just pop it in the oven before the mad dash of scrubbing, combing, and dressing begins. You get a hearty breakfast without all of the work on the Sabbath. Perfecto!

1 loaf bread, cut into cubes (or torn - the original recipe calls for french bread, but i usu. just use whatever i have - wholegrain, etc.)
8 ounces cream cheese, slightly softened
1 1/2 cups fresh blueberries Cinnamon
8 large eggs
1 1/2 cups milk
3/4 cup maple syrup

Butter a 9 x 13 pan. Layer one half of bread cubes in pan. Cut cream cheese into cubes and scatter over bread. Layer blueberries over the cream cheese. Cover the blueberries with the remaining bread. Sprinkle generously with cinnamon. In a bowl combine the milk, maple syrup, eggs. Whisk to combine. Pour the mixture over the bread and press the mixture into the bread with a spatula. This will help the bread soak up the egg mixture. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight. Bake at 350 for 45 to 50 minutes.

Office-ially Nerds

I think it's funny that Ryan and I talk about the Office espisodes as if we really know the Scranton branch...there, did you catch that? I was referring to the characters as if they were real people. Needless to say, we love The Office.

skyla, the waffle-eater

so i posted the following on facebook yesterday as my status: ICE-CUBES - because you deserve cold water. it was kind of a little inside joke with myself about how i, since i've become known as "briar's mom" (substitute that with any one of my four children's names) rarely take time for myself anymore. so much so that ice-cubes have kind of become a luxury. sad, huh? or maybe just funny b/c i bet any mom that reads this knows exactly what i am talking about. a friend in my preschool group was describing the day her youngest child hopped on the school bus to join his older siblings at school full-time. she recounted how she just sat in the shower with the hot water beating down on her until the water turned cold. for an hour. just because she could. i loved the truth and desperation in her story.
anyway, we had waffles for dinner tonight. just waffles. from a mix. no fruit, no veggies, no protein (excepting the milk). and we loved it. end of that story.
another thing: briar has asked me to start calling her "skyla", and she won't answer to "briar" anymore. she just gives me a condescending little smile and waits graciously for me to remember that her name is now "skyla". where did she unearth that one from? when i was her age i fantasized about my name being "april" or "courtney" or "megan". skyla....hmph.