Every now-and-then, mommy needs a vaca!

This past weekend, I escaped.

Jackson met some very important people.

Daddy and Little Man had a sleepover.

And mommy had a drink - or six.

Wordless Wednesday: Sharing Secrets

When the doorbell rings...

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The doorbell rang. I didn't even put down my book or look up from the sentence I was devouring.

There are more than enough people in this house to answer it.

I turned the page and sighed, it had been a long boring summer so far and it was about to get worse.

Samantha Josephine get down here please.

I knew something was wrong, my dad only used my full name when I was in trouble. I walked down the stairs where I met my dad, who was fuming. The only person whose face looked more serious was the police officer's he was standing next to.

I was a relatively good kid growing up and only had one run in with "the law" (thanks to my poor choice in friends.) Yet, as a teenager you started to sweat when a police officer rang the doorbell. Even if you knew you didn't do anything wrong you instinctively start running through alibis in your head.

The first week in our new house last month, the doorbell rang. I was annoyed. Little man was sleeping and the noise had sent the monsters dogs into a barking frenzy. I swung open the door a little too forcefully and surprised the police officer on the other side almost as much as his presence surprised me.

Just wanted to inform you that a registered sex offender lives down the street, ma'm.

I took the piece of paper, thanked him and
 shut the door. I couldn't help myself, I tip-toed over to Jackson's pack-in-play just to reassure myself that he was OK.

I remember a time (much like remembering that first time the doorbell rang back in my teens) when I would have been outraged at the community notification.

Did these people not have a right to privacy the same as everyone else? This is just asking for a witch hunt or a mob.

Now, as a parent, I was sincerely thankful for the information. Why? So I could be aware, be smart and protect my family. It is ironic how things change as you get older. My views, my beliefs, myself; even if I almost feel hypocritical as I grow.

I know that it won't be the last time that doorbell rings. I can only hope that we raise our son in a way so that we never have to greet a police officer on the other side of the door.

If we do though, I'll remember that time I heard my dad yell my full name up the stairs...

Have any of your opinions on hot-button issues changed since you became older or a parent? How do you feel about those changes?



The Pool Club

Jackson and I have been visiting the city pool quite frequently lately because one - it is hot as balls outside and two - I am on the hunt for some mommy friends (or really just any friend at this point after all, beggars can't be choosers.)

You see, the last time we lived in the area we were still in high school and two totally different people. Not that our friends back then weren't great but I am desperately trying to find a family in the same stage in their lives, with a kid that little man can grow up with. Who am I kidding? The "list" has been narrowed down to basically anyone who will talk to me.

Enter the Pool Club. In high school it was dubbed the "cool club",  in mommy-land it is know as the luxurious pool club.

The Nanny

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She's the girl you used to be - or who I used to be rather. The nanny is in between semesters at college or has just finished and is getting paid butt loads of Benjamen's to sunbathe, read, listen to music and occasionally glance up to make sure her charges are alive. She likes kids but only tolerates them to earn some cash. We are close to the same age but have nothing in common. All I can do is day dream about the day I can sit in the lounge chair in a bikini again (I am going to be day dreaming forever.)

The Mommy With Nanny In Tow

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This mom usually had more than one kiddo but you wouldn't guess it by looking at her; she is put-together from head-to-toe and usually is wearing makeup and heels. She is in a bikini just like The Nanny but her hubby paid for that to be possible. I can't talk too her because I am too poor and not quite that desperate, yet.

The Tankini Mom

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The tankini mom is the elusive supermom! She is realistic about her body but can still wear a cute and fashionable suit. You can find her with other tankini mom's, playing with their kids and chatting about book club, schools and the works. They seem almost too perfect, like your formula covered spit-up shirt and dark circles under your eyes would be shocking. 

As crazy as these different groups of women sound, I am really the crazy one. Why? Because I am trying to be friends with any of them in any way I can.

The problem?

They're like a flock of birds - you have to approach quietly and try not to make eye contact or they fly off.

Wordless Wednesday: King of the Mountain

Wordless Wednesday: Worn Out

For the Birds

Mommy,

We have to talk! I think there has been a misunderstanding and I want to give you a chance to get on the same page.

See, when you said I was going to start eating big-boy food I didn't realize you meant the mushy white stuff that you mix with my ba-ba's. What about the mushy colored stuff that is on all the shelves at the store? You know what I am talking about and I think you are keeping the goods from me. (I see the other babies eating...)

Also, what is up with that chair you lock me in? Why can't I sit with you at the table in your lap? The stupid tray hurts my knees and I can't get up and go anywhere.

Why is it necessary to clean me up during and after I eat? Maybe I was saving some of that for later! (Doubtful though, because this baby cereal is no rib eye.) I don't know why you get so worked up when I suck my thumb in between spoonfuls, I am trying to make that paste bearable so I can swallow. What do you think I am doing? Besides, it takes so long I am just trying to combine playtime and food so I can save you time. See, I'm thoughtful unlike some people I know.

Consider this an official list of complaints. I would appreciate it if you could hurry-up-and get on it.

Because this baby food? It's for the birds!

Daddy Dishes: Buffalo-Chicken Alfredo Pizza

Kris here, with the next recipe for Daddy Dishes. The other night, we made a homemade pizza. Pizzas are a simple and easy way to feed the fam (and something even Sam can't mess up! Unless, of course, you count burning it...) It is a great way to get everyone involved. We like a little spice in our life, so we made a buffalo chicken Alfredo pizza.

Ingredients:
Two split, boneless chicken breasts
One jar of Alfredo sauce
One bag of desired cheese (We use mozzarella and provolone)
One onion
Can of mushrooms
Tabasco Sauce
Worcestershire Sauce
Garlic seasoning
Crust (We buy pre-made crust but making one from scratch is simple enough)

*Keep in mind, toppings are, of course, optional and you can use anything.
 The possibilities are ENDLESS!

How to:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Boil chicken breast on the stove top. While the chicken is boiling, prep your toppings (dice onions, etc.) After chicken is cooked thoroughly, shred it in a separate bowl. Add Tabasco as desired for spice and Worcestershire and garlic for desired taste.

Spread a generous amount of Alfredo sauce onto the crust, then layer provolone cheese slices for the base. Layer your chicken and additional toppings, finishing off with an additional layer of shredded cheese.

Pop your pizza into the oven for 8-10 minutes and you're done! Serve with a side of cool ranch and fresh garden salad. P.S. Go easy on the Tabasco, a little goes a long way.

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Is your husband great in the kitchen? Do you have a favorite recipe? Do you have a dish so easy that even Life As Wife could make it?

Share your post below and make sure to visit others for some great ideas in the kitchen.

Daddy Dishes: An Explanation

It's no secret around here that I fail in the cooking department. Clean house? I'll scrub the floors with a toothbrush and military-like precision. Laundry? I can iron and fold with the best of them! Hungry? Um, how does lasagna sound (my go-to dish!)

The problem is, I'm not very brave in the kitchen. Let's face it, most great dishes are born through some sort of experimenting. I just want something edible as the end result which is why I stick to things I know. Luckily, my husband loves to cook as much as I love to eat.

I want to show off how awesome my husband is (and explain why I can't loose the last of that baby weight), all while trying to learn my way around the kitchen.

Enter Daddy Dishes.

Is your husband great in the kitchen? (Mine sure is!) Do you have a habit of burning water? At Life As Wife, there is no judgement because I guarantee I am worse! Check out Daddy Dishes posts to laugh as my husband shares why he would rather hold the reigns in the kitchen.

Wordless Wednesday: Sweet Dreams

Fluke

Kris,

Today marks the end of your third week as a broadcaster for KTLO's news department. You have traded in jump boots for Sperry's and dockers, formation for black coffee and a office desk.

This means that some how, I have survived three weeks at home, by myself, with our four-month-old son and two dogs.

Not only have I managed to keep my head above water but I have gone above-and-beyond. Your work clothes have been ironed every morning and breakfast was offered without fail. The monsters dogs are a bit hyper, yes, but they are fed and taken out for potty breaks. Your lunch breaks are much more than bologna and cheese sandwiches (although, if that is what you want for lunch then that is what you get!) Dinner has actually been HOT and is usually on the stove or making its way to a plate by the time you walk in the door at the end of the day.

Little man has been taking his naps, getting cleaned up, eating and getting changed all on a schedule. He is happy and ready for play time with daddy when dinner is done.

What the hell is going on? You might be wondering and to be honest, I am just as shocked as you are. The only thing I have to say though is...

Don't get used to it. It has to be a fluke.