"Give Me the Hard Stuff!"

Um, not to brag or anything, but I throw killer parties. Georgia turns 10 this week and since she's almost as big of a Harry Potter nerd as I am, we went all Hogwarts and threw a "Potions Party." Georgia's favorite Harry Potter activity is to pretend she's in Professor Snape's Dungeon doing potions. Every time I turn around another bottle of my lotion has been emptied and for every ounce of shampoo that goes on their hair, at least 5 ounces end up in bubbly concoctions that they entitle "Sleeping Draught," "Liquid Luck," or "Kissing Potion." Dave keeps asking where all his travel size containers have gone and I tell him to check Georgia windowsill where it looks like a display case for a mad scientist. I'm happy to leave them there. Until mold sets in. I draw the line at black and green fur.

For the party we ordered green (Slytherin color) 2 oz spray bottles and .25 oz cosmetic bottles to make perfume and lip gloss, or rather, "Petal Potion" and "Lip Magic." I ran around gathering ingredients: jojoba oil and alcohol for perfume base; canning wax (thanks Jen & Sherrine!), vitamin E oil & petroleum jelly for the gloss base, plus lots of tiny essential oils for smell and/or flavor. By Friday afternoon I was putting together goody bags and frosting brownie cupcakes. I realized I needed to write out the potion proportions so I got back onto the website to figure it out. Under "ingredients' it listed alcohol and I assumed rubbing would do. But when I scrolled down it said it had to be a single grain alcohol like Everclear or vodka. As I read this I realized that rubbing alcohol has a strong odor and would make the perfumes stink.

Shortly thereafter Lindy called me to see what time I needed her to show up to help (she is my kid party slave and does it sooo well). Then I uttered a phrase I never thought I'd say, "Hey Lindy, I need a bottle of Vodka for Georgia's birthday party. Do you have some?" "Sure," she replied, "how much do you need?" We both started laughing at the ridiculousness of my needing booze for a 10 year old party and her having some sitting around (although I should not be surprised as her kitchen is as well stocked with every possible ingredient as Julia Child's was).

At 7 the girls arrived and Becca (my other slave, acting as Molly Weasley) poured Sprite into their Poprock filled goblets and they oohed and ahhhed at the blue fizz. Then we made our potions and ate cake. Right after we sang to Georgia, there was a LOUD banging at the door and in marched our surprise guest, Severus Snape (aka Big Daddy G).

The kids went berserk and were all begging to be cursed by the Half Blood Prince.
Molly Weasley posed with him for a picture and then threw him out in her awesome British accent. Next we went into the "great hall" to be sorted into houses. My friend Amy made my week when she asked me if I wanted to use her sorting hat for the party. She got it at a white elephant/Yankee swap and I still can't believe what a perfect addition it was. Jonah hid behind the couch and used a stealth microphone to announce what house each girl would belong to.

Millie end up in Ravenclaw and was delighted. It was a magical night (except when the Slytherins locked the first years out of the common room and Millie & Gigi bawled) and Georgia seemed so happy about it all. I am exhausted and still cleaning up sticky Sprite spots off the floor. But as I always tell my kids, a party isn't a party until someone spills and someone cries. By all standards the party was a success!

Bea Opens Up a Can of Old Testament

Last night the family was trying to watch Idol and Bea dumped her popcorn, refused to clean it up and just, kept, screaming. I've been battling a headache for days and in frustration told her to "Shut up." She was NOT happy with me. She kept telling me, "Mama, you said a bad word! Do not say bad words!" I apologized, we cleaned up the mess together, and I told her I was sorry for giving her "owie feelings." End of story. Or so I thought.

Today over lunch she said, "Mom, God told me that if you say bad words to me again, He's gonna send a storm. For you." Then she smiled and ate her clementine, giving me a look like an Old Testament prophet.

Should I be afraid?

Hillbilly Hot Tub

(Jeff, Dave, & Jim & a staggering work of engineering genius)

My brother-in-law Jeff is a dream. He's smart. He's funny. He drinks the "potions" my kids make for him (Tabasco, mustard, & eggnog). And he knows how to have fun. For example, this year he decided that when they came up for Christmas break, he'd put together a "Hillbilly Hot Tub." He told us this at Millie's baptism and I sort of thought he was kidding. (No offense, but sometimes these brainy guys get all sorts of ideas in their heads that will never come to fruition.) But the week before Christmas a big box showed up with a good sized inflatable kiddie pool. Jeff wasn't blowing smoke. He arrived the 25th with some copper tubing, the pump from his mini koi pond, and a dream of hot water on a snowy day. And a week went by, and though their was lots of talk, nothing much happened. But over breakfast this morning Jeff announced that today would be the day.



Since our neighbors the Kellys have an Armenian bread pit in their backyard (What? You've never heard of one? They're ALL the rage in Yerevan and Watertown...) Jeff decided that would be a good heat source. While some people had their doubts (you know who you are), it turned out to be the highlight of our vacation. The kids & dads went nuts. Here are some pix:



The Armenian bread pit is extremely deep and constructed to get and stay hot. They wrapped the tubing around the logs before bow drilling the fire (matches are a dirty word to Dave and Jim).

Notice the turkey thermometer used to keep track of the heat. It got to 126 degrees at one point.

They filled the tub with water and then turned the pump on to circulate the water thru the tubes, to the copper tubes in the fire, which then returned toasty water to the "hot tub." Given the size, we jacuzzied in shifts. The little girls went first and LOVED it. They grabbed snow balls to see how long it took them to melt in the hot steam.

Next Dallin & Spencer had a girl-free turn. Notice how roomy it is and the awesome space blankets that Jeff brought for insulation.

Denise orchestrated games for the bigger kids like, who can stand outside in the snow for the longest and who can jump on the trampoline, swing for 2 minutes, and go down an icey slide before collapsing from hypothermia. Jonah won at 11 minutes. I don't think there was any lasting braindamage...

Finally the daddies got in. And I'm pretty sure they had trunks on...

It was the perfect way to ring in the New Year. May 2010 bring you unexpected warmth!

Caution: Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

Sucky fact: Georgia gets migraines. If she's too hungry, too hot, too tired, too anything, she gets sick and ends up hurling. On Monday after school she went to her book group (the Chipmunk Hotel)and I get a call an hour into it telling me Georgia wants me to come get her. I race down there, scoop her up, and try to race home before the inevitable. "Let me know if you are going to puke," I say as I drive. Two minutes later, about a block from our house, she says, "Mom, I think I'm going to BAAAAAAAAA...!" There is no where to pull over, no window to roll down, and as I glance in my rear view mirror I literally see the hurl coming towards me. She is directly behind me and has awesome projection. It hits my head, my shoulder, my arm. And once she starts, she can't stop. And did I mention that she screams as she vomits? Very loud, gurgley cries. I get her home, stripped, and in the tub and then head back out to the scene of the grime. The worst part? You know that pocket on the back of the front seats for storing maps and such? I don't think I'll ever be able to use mine again, now that it's been a spew receptacle. I scrub and wipe and clean until my hands are numb from the cold (it's 20 degrees)and then proceed to do laundry for the rest of the night. So how was your evening?

That [Manic] Time of Year...

(imagine what I'd do to a dog...)

This time of year is insane for me. Of course the holidays are crazy for every mom, but wedge in 2 birthdays and a huge church party and you too may find yourself mentally rocking in a corner in the fetal position.

Yet hosting 20 people for Thanksgiving turned out to be the eye of the storm. The fact that I had time to make festive gerbil headgear on Thursday morning speaks volumes. The key is inviting the right people. And making your friend Lindy set and decorate your tables. We had 3 turkeys (smoked, deep fried, and brined), mounds of sides, piles of rolls, and enough pies to induce diabetes in an elephant. We played games, read gossipy magazines, slept, laughed--in short, it turned out to be an amazing day. And Anne did all the dishes (she insisted, seriously she did).

On Friday my real work began for our church's annual wreathmaking party, which Dave calls Belmont Ward Prom (see my last year's post). I am in charge of food (pause for laughter). I think they called me because they are (once again) trying to scale things back and figured that putting a Hobo in charge of refreshments is one way to keep things from being too high-falutin. I really had to resist the urge to use a recipe that involved Velveta and Dave wanted me to serve squirrel. I don't speak Foodie, but I am well versed in Comfort Food so I planned on meatballs and bacon laden mini quiche and 450 mini cupcakes and every bar you can imagine (blondies, brownies, gingerbread, oatmeal bars, apricot bars, lemon bars, peppermint chocolate bars, coconut bars, caramel bars...). Tons of people helped so it was doable. But very exhausting.

I conned Dave into making the little cupcake trees for me and tossed the whole decorate the table stuff to Lisa and Christine who know how to work a pomegranate. So although we started out swearing we'd simplify things, it was just as fancy and over the top as it should be. But in my defense, I did do away with all utensils. No forks or spoons needed. Just toothpicks which again, are kinda Hobo.

Seriously there is a whole other post in my head about the "Anti-Wreathites" (tm Becca) who hate this annual party and almost succeeded in derailing it this year. And as my hand was cramping while decorating mini cupcake #411, I started to go to the dark side myself and had very Grinchy thoughts but I drowned them with a Big Gulp of Diet Coke. And then when the second giant batch of marshmallow whip cream frosting wouldn't set up and we added 2lbs of powdered sugar to stiffen it and it still fell and now tasted like a sugar cube dipped in Fluff, I was very discouraged and cursed my Boston Foremothers for instituting such a time consuming tradition. But then Brittany drizzled chocolate on the top and lo and behold, a Wreathmaking Miracle occurred. They were not only passable but by far the favorite cupcake. "How did you make this frosting?" "These white ones are delicious--I can't get enough!" Oh the bad frosting that was turned into manna. I can't believe I ever doubted.

Now that the huge Mormon Ladies Winter Extravaganza is over, I should be turning my attention to that little holiday coming up, what's it called? Oh yeah, CHRISTMAS. This weekend we got a tree and decked the halls watched Miracle on 34th Street, Mr. Kruger's Christmas, Frosty, and The Grinch (cartoon, not Jim Carey).

But before I can really wrap my head around Santa, our Millie has a huge milestone. On Friday she turns 8. For us that means she is old enough to be baptized an official member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My mom is already here and Grandma Dava and Grandpa Russ arrive this weekend along with Steph et al from Jersey and Lee et al from Albany to participate. Mills is really excited and so are we. If you're in the Belmont area on the 12th, show up at the chapel for a nice little programs and some yummy treats after. Probably some bars. Nothing too fancy, I promise.

Little Women/Little Men

My house has been filled with magic. Much to my delight, we've had house guests for the past few days and the ensuing chaos has been so enjoyable. Don't you just love it when some of your favorite people get their bathroom remodeled and turn life into a big sleepover? The magic is how well these kids get along. Ellie, Gigi & Bells blend seamlessly with my girls.

They pass their days playing Harry Potter, casting spells and working on their British accents. I'm not going to pretend it's been perfect. On Saturday I kept finding white powdery stuff all over the carpets. It turns out they used confectioners sugar as "floo powder" for magical transportation. And today they emptied 4 bottles of shampoo in their "potions" lessons. But it's all worth it when the 3 oldest have string practice. That Gigi is amazing on the cello, and I got all teary listening to Georgia and Ellie play "Away in a Manger." Of course attention hogs Bells & Bea had to then sing for us...endlessly. I felt like Marmie March watching Jo et al with pride & joy.

Jonah has loved having Peter here, sharing his room and his nerf guns skills with joy. But the spell was broken when Danny returned Monday nite with their new puppy, Thatcher. Jonah is so jealous he wouldn't even speak to me that nite. He puppy sat today for a while, and thinks he is wearing me down by repeatedly pointing out how cute Thatch is.

Which leads me to my next story. Monday morning Bea said to me: "Now that the Snows have a dog, they should get a cat. And the dog will get bigger than the cat, and then the dog will attack the cat and hurt its leg. Then Danny will have to shoot the cat, and it won't die, so Pop will need to go kill it. Then he'll pop it in a bag, bring it home, skin it and cook it so we can have cat for dinner. Won't that be yummy mom? Won't it?!"

I sat there wondering what evil carnivore had taken over my precious baby who was salivating over a house pet. I know where this came from. It's the damn squirrel thing. Danny shot that squirrel which didn't die, so Dave finished it off before serving it to the kids. Now she thinks everything is fair game. Dave is delighted. Having lived in Hong Kong he adopted the notion that anything lower than homo sapiens is fare food game. When we lived in China a kid we knew showed up one day with two fuzzy ducklings in a shoebox. I tentatively asked what she planned to do with them when they got big. She looked at me like I was an idiot and said, "I will cut off their heads and eat them of course." The implied "duh" was almost audible.

"Sweetie," I said, "we don't eat cats. Ever." Bea's face fell and she replied, "When I'm big, can I kill a squirrel and eat it all by myself?" I sighed, resigned that my Grizzly Adams husband had a tiny convert. "Yes. You can eat squirrel." She ran off happily, probably going to practice choking a stuffed animal.

But we are all a little warped in our house. It comes with being Hobos. This evening Georgia came into my room and said, "Mom, I found this in my hair." I literally lept off the bed and my scalp began itching uncontrollably. I saw something black between her fingers. When I got it under the light I sighed with relief, "It's just a tick--not lice!" What is wrong with me that the threat of Lyme disease is somehow preferable to having cooties?

All I know is that this Hobo Mama has loved the magical chaos of our temporary commune. Anyone else have a bathroom in need of remodelling? Come on over!!!

Hits & Misses

Hit: Exotic meat. Tonite Dave killed, skinned, gutted & cooked a squirrel. The girls went crazy for it.

Miss: Vermin. I tried really hard not to vomit just thinking about it. I barely do dark poultry meat.

Hit: Lilyrose Florals (http://www.lilyroseflorals.com/) is the flower business my friend Linda is starting. Not only should you check out her gorgeous arrangements, but those lovely models as well... If you live in Boston, hire this woman for your next event.

Miss: Sting-a-ling-a-ling. While at Target the other day, I saw that Sting had a new funky Christmas album out, "If on a winter's night." I was so excited (my first concert was The Police's Ghost in the Machine tour of 81/82--thanks Hon!). Until I listened to it. Has Sting started smoking 15 packs a day? There are one or two that don't suck. Made me want to cry. Not in a good way.

Hit: The new shows that we are lovin are Community (I could not stop giggling about "Mexican Halloween") and The Middle. Great acting. Great dialogue. The jury is out on Flashforward (it makes me miss Lost already). Too many Brits with fake American accents (I am NOT talking about you Simon Baker--I love how your Aussieness occasionally sneaks thru)

Miss: Nasty old ladies who ram into your car in the library parking lot, even though you honk like mad before she makes contact, and then accuses you of hitting her rust bucket.

Hit: When people in uber liberal Cambridge use Republican as a swear word. For example, "You are a nasty piece of work and I bet you're a Republican to boot!!!" It's the "R" word.

Miss: Having kids get the swine flu. I know why it's called that. You spend so much time attending to whiny, needy kids that your house turns into a pigsty.

Hit: Getting everyone well enough to trick or treat and eating so many homemade donuts you feel like Homer Simpson.