1000 points delicious!

Have you met the new and improved Lolo, self-proclaimed master housewife extraordinaire?

It's true, after only three and a half years of marriage I've become a pro chef, baker, cleaner, grocery shopper and mom.

You don't believe me? Let's stack up the evidence:

1. Today, I made cookies without using a recipe. Granted, I had an idea of what kind of cookie I would like to make, and I'm sure there exists a recipe for double-chocolate Andes mint chip cookies with bonus chocolate chips, but I did not feel like scouring the internet for said recipe. I hate following recipes. That stupid, pretentious cookbook telling me what to do is inexplicably obnoxious. Let me do my own thing!

Not to mention, this is the second time I've done this in one month!

15 points to Lolo (hey, making a new baking recipe is hard! It's science!)

2. I made a bacon cheeseburger meatloaf for dinner on Monday. Again, no recipes. Does this really need any back-up explanation? The husband loves me.

8 points


3. My house smells like fabric softener and baked goods all the time, and not like human excrement. This is quite the feat considering we're in the midst of potty training a two and a half year old, and we have a seven month old who recently began eating a variety of fruits and veggies.

5 points


4. As far as I know, my kids love Jesus. Z says the Hail Mary every night, and sings The King of Glory as we light the advent wreath, and G doesn't cry too much at mass.

175 points (don't judge, that's God's job.)

5. I'm pretty good at hiding my faults from the public. Though I can bake and cook with mad skills, and keep my children on the path to righteousness whilst smelling sweet, I'll admit I have my off days. However, the whole internet doesn't need to know about it!

- 4 points (for a lack of transparency)

If I can do math properly, which I'm sure all my patients hope to heaven that I can, that totals out to 199. Don't ask me what the scale is for homemaker of the year, because I just made up random point amounts with no real justification. I'm guessing I'm somewhere in the top 3,529, though.

Revel in my prowess and prolificity, bitches.

Story time!

The Leaky Roof.

I walked in to find the bathroom floor soaking wet and water rushing like a waterfall from the vent in the ceiling....(slightly exaggerated for dramatic effect. "slow trickle" might be more accurate) In those brief moments of horrific discovery I pictured my house slowly morphing into 320 Sycamore, complete with a serenading policeman and cab-driver outside my window. 

All I could do was yell "Bucket! I need a bucket!!" and put my hands on my face Macaulay Culkin-style. The husband attempted to allay my hysteria as I ran toward the basement to fetch a pail for water. He gave me a figurative slap across the face and yelled "we don't need a bucket!" I was convinced he had somehow miraculously repaired the leak in the 10 seconds I had been flailing around the house.

He didn't.

However, he did repair my obsession with a bucket.

He opened the toilet, and the water from the vent, which was situated directly above, had a lovely compartment in which to drain.

Duh.

Just goes to show, God knows how to give you a leaky roof on your birthday. He simply puts it directly above the built-in bucket.

Keep Christ in Christmas, and Christmas in December... and January.

Join my campaign to keep the spirit of Christmas alive.

You might be thinking, "What are you talking about, Lolo? I see Christmas spirit everywhere!!"

It's true. Some folks have taken to the ostentatious display of Christmas paraphernalia so early in the year, but I see it as an affront to true Christmas values.

We're so hopped up on tinsel and good-tidings starting with the serenade of  "All I Want for Christmas is You" in mid-October, that when the Holiday finally arrives we're feeling a bit bah-humbuggish.

So please, join me in my temporary Grinchitude until the season truly starts: December 25th.

Don't worry, if you feel that's too long to wait, we Polaks and Polkas like to celebrate the Christmas season from the Wigilia to Candlemas to make up for lost time!

5 little monkeys, eating crayons, making messes and jumping on the bed.

It seems some moms have stopped listening to their maternal instinct and have instead turned toward the internet for parenting advice.

What (most of) the internet won't tell you:

1. Babies grow up.

It may seem like a good idea at the time, to have a cute little bundle of joy to carry around like a fluffy purse-dog as if you're a more fertile version of Paris Hilton. Then they become toddlers, and suddenly you're cleaning up pancake syrup and permanent marker all day, and you realize maybe a dog would have been better, because at least you can send them in the backyard when they're covered in stink. I can't speak from experience, but I'm sure it only gets better as those precious little ones continue to shed their sheepskin as they progress into tween-hood and beyond.

2. Television is a perfectly acceptable babysitter for your children.

Don't misunderstand. I don't allow my 2-year-old to watch Yo Gabba Gabba all day every day until his mind is cream-of-wheat. However, when I want to shower, you better believe DJ Lance and company are preventing my child from setting the house on fire or climbing into the crib to choke the baby with diaper pins while she sleeps.

3. You will have a favorite child.

I know, you're not supposed to pick favorites, but I totally do. As my mother said before me, "My favorite child is whichever one is causing the least trouble." Don't tell anyone, but Z is my favorite.

4. Listen to professionals.

There's a reason they're called professionals. Doctors and nurses really know what they're doing. I'll admit, there are some "professionals" who are too ignorant to admit their ignorance, in which case you should follow your gut. For the most part they want to help. They probably have looked at research why your baby should sleep on their back and receive ALL the recommended vaccines only in an effort to keep your baby safe, NOT to tell you how to be a mother.

I know I'm not a perfect mother, but I've got to be better than that woman who kept letting monkeys jump on the bed, even though the doctor kept telling her no more!

P.S. G is my Favorite.

For everything there is a season.

The weather has been unseasonably warm these last few weeks. Some blame it on global warming, or green house gases, or cow farts, or whatever. I blame it on baseball. That's right. Baseball.

Somehow we're managing to play baseball, hockey and football all at the same time. That's like wearing a coat and scarf with a white sundress.

Clearly there's no definitive seasons anymore, so I say take a free-for-all on fashion and go wild with "out of season" styles! Because if we can still have baseball well into October, then I see no reason why I can't wear my white shorts with cork wedges well into the post-season.

Forward down the field.

Good morning, Sports Fans. In case you haven't heard, the Lions are 3-0 for the first time since 1980. That's right. I was negative 7 years old the last time it happened.

So dust off your mid-drift cut Lions jersey and get on the bandwagon before it's too late. You don't want to be accused of being a fair-weather fan.

Though to be fair, if you can't say you had season tickets the year they went 0-16 (like some of us did) and attended every single home game with extreme dedication, abandoning all despair and remaining hopeful all the while (like some of us did) then you're still a fair-weather fan. Sorry.

Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, Lions!!

Will you follow the yellow brick road, already?!!?

I'm pretty sure all children have obsessive personalities. They pick one movie that fits their style and become so passionate about it they'll watch it eight-thousand times until they know every single line and their mothers are singing "You've got a friend in me" while washing dishes.

Why?!

I can't say I'm exempt from this rule either. The Wizard of Oz was a Little-Lo-lo fave back in the day. Maybe we find comfort in hearing the same lines over and over and over.

That must be why kids are disobedient: they like hearing their mothers say the same thing over and over and over and over.......