Dorks at the Doctor's Office

The twins had a checkup at the doctor’s office today. Amazingly, they behaved rather well. Maybe those crazy Mayans really are onto something.

Our first order of business was to pee in a cup. Well, two cups. Both girls decided this was a strange request and after a lot of begging (and a little bribing), Mac obliged and did her duty.

Stevie refused. Homegirl is still convinced someone drinks it and she went so far as to tell her doctor one time that this is the reason she will not pee in a cup.

“Do doctors pee in cups, Mama?” she asked.

“Yes, Steve. We all have to pee in cups at some point. Just do it and get it over with.”

“No, thank you,” she said.

Ya gotta give a girl props for using manners only when she feels it might excuse her from something that isn’t really a request, but rather an obligation. Stevie is what we call our strong-willed child. (Read: stubborn as a goat.)



We started with the ceremonial Weighing of the Babies. Since their slightly-premature birth, we anticipate this part of any doctor visit like a lottery junkie waits for winning numbers. As the nurse slides the scale to the right, we wait with baited breath, fingers crossed and eyes fixed. The further to the right she goes, the more we rise up onto our toes. In my head, I’m a contestant on Wheel of Fortune clapping and screaming “BIG MONEY! BIG MONEY! BIG MONEY!” Only the money, in this case, is weight. And the winners are the ones at the top of the growth chart.

“Stephanie is 39 pounds, two ounces,” the nurse says dryly. I’m slightly disappointed, as the scale at home put her at 43 pounds last week. It crossed my mind to stick my big toe on the scale as Nurse Boring fidgeted with the slider-thingy up top.



Mac’s turn. I pull Stevie back to my side, and fix my eyes on the slider-thingy. BIG MONEY! BIG MONEY! BIG MONEY! Nurse Boring taps it with her finger and starts to make a notation on my girl’s chart. “McKenna is 38 pounds, 4 ounces and 45 and a quarter inches tall.”

Now this is big news. For seven years, the girls have passed each other on height and weight, always fluctuating between who was taller, and who was heavier. When they were born, Mac was heavier, weighing in at a whopping 5 pounds, 4 ounces. Steph didn’t break the 5-pound mark when she was born. They were both 19 inches long, and looked like skinny spaghetti noodles. The first time Stevie passed Mac on weight the phones lit up like a switchboard. We called our moms. We called our sisters, our friends, our neighbors, and every nurse we could think of at the hospital in El Paso where they were born. It was big news.



Then the waiting game started in the examination room. The girls have a Christmas concert later this afternoon at school, so they were dressed in frilly dresses with perfectly-coiffed hair.



I expect by the time the concert starts this afternoon, one or both girls will look like they put their head in a blender.

The girls’ pediatrician came in rather quickly and did her routine eye exams, spinal checks, reflex tapping and overall poking and prodding. Both girls are pretty much perfect, aside from some ear wax we need to tend to with peroxide and water. Grody.

We were out of there in no time and made it to school only a little tardy. Both girls were stressed out their friends were going to think they were absent and therefore unable to deliver their lines in the Christmas performance. I’m sure Stevie was worried that someone was going to pull the rug out from under her and steal her part. She’s pretty territorial. (Read: possessive like a dog on a hydrant.)

Happy Thursday, everyone. Keep your fingers crossed the hair stays in place and out of the blender.

Comfort Food: Caldillo

When the cold weather hits, I go through a mini-depression watching all of my outside plants turn brown and die. My favorite is a six-foot tall mandevilla that peeks out of the ground every spring and dies instantly the following Thanksgiving. This summer was it's eighth showing. It's bright pink blooms are truly spectacular, and when it's time to cut it down, it's like chopping off my left arm.

Great soups and stews are a small consolation prize for bidding another goodbye to the garden. Today we woke up to a light rain and overcast skies...a perfect combination to stay home and cook some good comfort food!



This caldillo is my version of a stew my husband and I like to get at the truck stop by my office. I'm not a huge fan of the cafe there, but their stew is incredible, and the servers tell us truck drivers stop in just to eat it.

With big chunks of red potato, lots of ground beef and beans, you could almost stuff a tortilla with this stuff and make a burrito.



Start by browning about a pound and a half of ground beef. Drain well.



Dice up an onion or two (I stuck with one this time around) and about four hot green chiles.



Saute the onion and green chile in a large stock pot in two tablespoons of butter. Add some garlic salt and lots of fresh ground black pepper.



While the onion and chile are sizzling, chop up 6 red potatoes into 1-inch chunks. You can use regular potatoes, but I like the color these add to the soup.



After the chile and onion mixture is translucent, add 8 cups of water to the stockpot, along with a 27-ounce can of pinto beans, the ground beef and 4 chicken bouillon cubes.



Bring everything to a boil and simmer over low heat for at least an hour. Serve with toasted flour tortillas or crusty bolillos. Yum!

Here's a cut-and-paste version:

Caldillo

1.5 lbs ground beef
1 or 2 onions, diced
4 hot green chiles, diced
2 tbsp. butter
6 red onions, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 can (27 oz.) pinto beans
4 chicken bouillon cubes
8 cups of water
1 tsp. garlic salt
salt and pepper to taste

1. Brown ground beef in a skillet. Drain well.
2. In a large stock pot, saute onion and green chile in the butter. Add garlic salt.
3. After chile and onion mixture is translucent, add water, beans, bouillon, ground beef and potatoes.
4. Bring pot to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for at least an hour. Serve with flour tortillas or rolls.

Halloweenies

Sometimes I wonder if my babies will resent me later for choosing Halloween as their birthday. Many years from now, as they're taking their own babies door-to-door, I suspect it might cross their minds that Mom was a total ditz for thinking this is how they wanted to spend each and every birthday.

The truth is that I chose October 31st as their birthday in honor of my wonderfully beloved grandma, Lillian, who was born on Halloween. Ironically, my cousin (Mom's brother's son)also shares a Halloweenie birthday with my grandma and my babies. My grandma died when I was 14 and never got to meet the babies, but I know she would have gushed all over them.



This year, I dressed them in their standard birthday t-shirts and sent them to school. Lainey dressed up as a purple crayon. It was entirely a co-winky dink that they all ended up in purple...secretly I wish I could tell you that I planned it.



After the girls got home from school, I fed them dinner in record time and got their homework done. It helps to have costumes to dangle like a carrot to get kids to finish homework. It's the only upside to having Halloween on a f'ing weekday!



It's well documented that costume designers turn any idea into a slutty costume. For example, the girls chose the same one this year - a leopard. What happened to the spotted leotard, tights, ears and a tail? Do we really need the choker and fingerless gloves?! I suppose so, because I bought the damn things. They do look awfully cute next to our neighbor, Superman.



Lainey was a Hooters girl. She was supposed to stick to her Crayon plan, but the other Crayon never showed up.



My BFF's daughter was Dead Raggedy Ann. Pretty good, I'd say! And I just did.



Can you guess what my darling niece was?



I don't know this trick-or-treater, but his costume was one of my favorites. It also prompted my BFF to come up with new Halloween rules: You cannot trick or treat if you A) have facial hair B) drive yourself to the neighborhood or 3) have a beer in one hand and a bag of candy in the other. I made that last one up just now. Don't ask me how I thought of it.



The entire Anchorman news team showed up, too. They were awesome, minus Veronica Corningstone.



This is Stevie's "fierce kitty" look. All night you could say, "Hey, Stevie...show me 'fierce kitty'" and she would break into character. Genius kid.



Where's Tomi?

Happy Halloweenie (a day later),
me

Rigatoni Isabella

Working at KTSM gave me my first impression of what advertising sales is like. It also reaffirmed my decision never to go into advertising, which apparently lapsed when I went to work for an ad firm a few years ago. We’ll have more time to chat about that some other time (and over copious amounts of alcohol).

At the station, because of a thing in advertising they like to call "trade", Cappetto’s Italian restaurant catered every big affair - whether it was a party to celebrate a recent ratings spike or the annual Christmas party where we crammed every living soul who worked in the building into the studio. We sat in long, single rows, almost in each other’s lap, and waxed pathetic about the food…even though we didn’t pay for it.

I think we complained because no matter what the occasion, we always had Cappetto’s. And while the pizza almost always sucked, you could count on one thing: they would bring Rigatoni Isabella by the tub. Layered with three different cheeses, jalapeno, tomato and onion, it was one pasta dish that great for lunch, great for dinner or great at 4 a.m. if you were doing the morning show.

After 56 years in El Paso, Cappetto’s closed its doors today, leaving only one-third of the famed Rio Trio (We're the Rio Trio! Three families by the rio, Jaxon’s Avila’s and Cappetto’s too…inviting you to come and see how great food and service can be…everybody sing it if you know it!). With Avila’s still open, we’re left with only great memories of two El Paso staples in the food service industry...and this recipe for Rigatoni Isabella.

Back in my TV days, over a plate full of Rigatoni Isabella, I mentioned to our general sales manager, Larry Bracher, that I would love to have the recipe. A few days later, he dropped it off on my desk. I thought he slipped me the secret to building a nuclear bomb! After thanking him over and over and over, Larry winked (as only Larry could do) and said, “You know they print a cookbook, right? It’s for sale up front at the restaurant…and this recipe is in it, dork-o.”

Oh well. Some of you who bought the cookbook (now a collector’s item!) might already have the recipe. For those who don’t, here it is, with a long-winded story about crowded studios, free food and my dear friend Larry, who is probably sipping a short glass of Jack Daniel’s in that cantina in the sky.

Love ya, Larry…

Rigatoni Isabella

• 4 oz. rigatoni pasta
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 2 medium Roma tomatoes, diced
• 4 green onions, sliced
• 2 medium jalapenos, seeded and diced
• 2 oz. Swiss cheese, grated
• 2 oz. fresh mozzarella cheese, grated
• 2 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Parmesan cheese, grated

Directions

1. Cook the pasta according to package directions until it is al dente, drain well.
2. In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the green onion and tomatoes and cook until the tomatoes are tender and the onion is translucent (a little more than 5 minutes).
3. Stir in the diced jalapenos and cheese and mix well.
4. When cheese has melted, add the chopped basil and generous amounts of fresh black pepper, adding salt to taste.
5. Pour the cooked pasta in a large pan or bowl. Top with cheese, tomato, onion and jalapeno mixture. Serve with grated Parmesan cheese and sliced jalapeños for garnish.

Top 10 Reasons I hate X Factor

Between work, three kids, the kitchen and the cat box, I have very little time for television. I usually save TV viewing time for the super-important, can't-miss-it-or-I'll-die shows, like Grey's Anatomy, Parenthood and re-runs of Frasier.

A girl has to have priorities, you know.

I'm also one of those suckers that hears the buzz about certain pop-culture shows and starts to worry that I'm missing out on something vital. You never know when you're going to need certain bits of trivia wisdom.

I mean, I might be on Cash Cab someday!

So naturally, when I heard that Brit-Brit was going to be a judge on X Factor, I was a little curious. Last night, after helping my beloved scan and email a zillion bank statements for our accountant (read: I would rather have glass shards shoved up my nostrils), I decided to decompress with some mindless, non-educational telvision viewing.

That church channel was showing a bunch of nuns praying the rosary. I thoroughly enjoyed that for about eleven seconds.

PBS observed Throwback Thursday with an encore presentation of Lawrence Welk (hello, Lennon Sisters!).

And then I stopped on the X Factor.



After roughly 5 minutes, I concluded this was not a show that I was going to waste precious DVR space on.



And here are 10 reasons why:

1. The show is flat-out over edited. There is no organic feel of anything that happens. The producers have a formula, and God save the Queen, they're going to stick to it! Here's the formula: 10 seconds of backstory, one minute of stage introduction time and banter with the judges, and one minute of performance while the cameras cut away to canned audience approval, shocked judges faces, and backstage family reaction. There you go. Now you too can be a reality show producer.

2. It feels like I'm watching the commercial promo for the show instead of the actual show.

3. Brit-Brit isn't allowed to say much. Have these producers not seen "Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo"?! We Americans are not ashamed to admit that WE LOVE TO WATCH TRAIN WRECKS!

4. Simon Cowell is truly a self-indulgent ass monkey. Take away that crappy white t-shirt and he could be a mechanic at any greasy auto shop in my hometown. Or that dude who won't stop bugging you while you look at TVs at Best Buy.

5. That black dude is not Randy Jackson. Stop pretending he is.

6. Who the hell is Demi Lovato?

7. I love Ryan Seacrest and I can't help it. Watching X Factor makes me feel like I'm cheating on him.

8. They fuck up perfectly good songs.

9. It gives poor souls false hope that they're going to be the next Kelly Clarkson.

10. Who the hell is Demi Lovato? I realize this was reason #6, but I thought it beared repeating.

Much love,
40 and Freaked Out by X Factor

P.S. The photos contained in this post were taken directly from a Google search. I don't make money off this blog, so please don't sue me. Thank you. Over and out.

Calabasitas!

My dad and bonus mom came to visit last week from Austin. Everyone was excited to see them, especially the girls. Sunday we got together for dinner at my dad's BFF's house. My bonus mom said, "We're just gonna grab some chicken. Don't worry about bringing anything except yourselves!" Translation: I should probably bring something, huh?

With no time to stop at the store, I did a quick mental inventory of my fridge and decided on this:



Calabasitas (squash) is something my sister in-law showed me how to make years ago. Since then, I have torn this recipe apart and made it several different ways. The following method is my favorite, I think. It takes a few extra steps (read: more dirty dishes), but it's worth every bite!





Start with some yellow and zucchini squash. Rinse them off and slice them width-wise. I grew these over the summer, and we ate them grilled, fried, sauteed, and boiled. Delish!




Next, grab some fresh yellow or white corn. Using a super-sharp knife, slice the kernels off the cob. I did not grow these over the summer, but you can find locally-grown corn in just about any grocery store this time of year.




I have a good friend I would like you to meet. Her name is Carzalia, and despite being great friends, I just lopped her head off. She is yummy! Carzalia sweet onions are grown by my friends the Johnsons over in the Carzalia Valley, just south of Deming on the U.S./Mexico border. I. Love. Them. If you aren't fortunate enough to find a Carzalia sweet where you are, any sweet onion will do. Dice it up.




You'll also need some green chile. I used about 4 long Sandia chiles, and it was good. More (and possibly hotter) would have been even better.






Next, melt about 2 tablespoons of butter in a large skillet.



Throw in the onion, green chile and corn and sautee over medium-high heat until the onions are translucent. Give it a good coating of salt and pepper. I always use a pepper grinder because fresh cracked pepper makes all the difference, in my humble opinion.






I should confess that all of these photos were taken with my iPhone because the battery on my Nikon was muerto (dead). Please forgive the imperfections and shadows.






While the onion, green chile and corn are cooking, grab a box of chicken stock (about 4 cups).






Pour the stock into a large pot and bring it to a boil.
Then dice up a perfectly ripe tomato, or two. Whatever you're feeling like that day. On this day, I felt like two tomatoes.






Add the squash and the tomatoes to the chicken stock. Don't be like me and insist on using your Grandma's Le Creuset to do this. While I love this skillet more than just about anything in my kitchen, I needed something bigger.






Cook the squash and the tomatoes until the squash is just about fork-tender, or maybe sooner. (You're going to bake everything together and that will soften the squash, too.)






Throw everything together in a large bowl and blend. Now that I see this photo, the next time I make this I might not boil the tomatoes but instead add them in at this point. Boiling tomatoes gives the squash a nice flavor, but they all but disappear. All you have left are skins!






Layer everything in a casserole dish with about 2 cups of cheese. I used Monterey Jack and cheddar. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes, or until the cheese has melted. Perfecto!

This makes my mouth water. So good! Try it before all the fresh veggies are gone.






Here's a quick cut-and-paste version:

Calabasitas!

4-6 squash (yellow and zucchini work best)
3 ears of white or yellow corn, kernels sliced off the cob
4 long green chiles, diced
1 large sweet onion
2 tbsp. butter
salt and pepper to taste
4 cups chicken stock
2 large vine-ripe tomatoes
2 cups Monterey Jack or cheddar cheese (or both!)

Preheat oven to 350. Sautee corn, green chiles and onion in butter until onion is translucent. Set aside.
In a large stock pot, bring chicken stock to a boil. Add squash and tomatoes and boil until squash is almost fork-tender. Drain.
Add squash and tomatoes to the sauteed veggies. Layer in a large casserole dish with cheeses and bake for about 20 minutes, or until cheese is melted.

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My Angels Have Tiny Wings

My babies are in the first grade. I have to type that and read it over and over because, as a mother - and most mothers reading this will agree - it never sounds cliche when you say, "Good lord, time sure flies. Where did it all go?"

Because it does. It flies. Those precious moments I tried to inhale at every opportunity when we came home from the hospital are still so fresh.


This is my BFF Michelle and her baby, Malia. Malia is almost as tall as me now.


One time when the girls were in Kindergarten, we went to Walmart for barstools. (Note to self: barstools from Walmart are made of cardboard and last for 2 days before collapsing, sending you crashing down on your ass. Not good.) The girls saw these bean bags and said, "Look! They're twins, too!" Pretty genius observation, wouldn't you say? Instead of matching bean bags, these were twin bean bags.


This was last Easter. Their smiles melt me. So did those eggs, which the Rodeo kids made and hid for the girls. These were Dixie's eggs...one for Louie, and one for Libby. I think Libby probaby ate that one, too. Shell and all.


First day of first grade. I cried all the way to work after I dropped them off, just like I do every year since 2000, when my Bug started Kindergarten. Stab me in the heart.


Bye, Baby Mac. Have a good day... Mama loves you.


Bye, Stevie Nicks. Please don't terrorize anyone on the first day. Except for maybe that poor soul behind you. Tell her to cut those bangs already! Can she even see where she's going? Thanks. Mama loves you, too.

One more thing...take care of each other. Your sister will always be your best friend, just like your Mama.

Elvis has left the building

I was 5 when Elvis died. I was in bed, and I could hear Walter Cronkite on the television down the hall in our green and white doublewide out on the farm (which wasn't actually a farm, but my dad always called it that because it was in BFE and we had a horse).

I was too little to understand that celebrities were these unreachable superstars that fans rarely, if ever, get to meet, and because I heard my dad talk about Elvis all the time, and because his music was in our house all the time, I thought Elvis Presley and my dad were friends. I thought the same thing about my Aunt Jeanne and Karen Carpenter. When I overheard my 2nd grade teacher talking to another teacher in the hall about how sad it was to hear about "that poor Karen Carpenter", I butted in and said, "Isn't it, though? So tragic. She was a friend of my Auntie's, you know." I was 8.

Those ladies probably knew before I did what a drama queen I would turn out to be.

Today marks the 35th anniversary of the day Elvis Presley died. My friend Eric posted this on Facebook, and although it might be a bitter pill to swallow, it’s the best summarization I’ve read about the unfortunate demise of such an incredible icon.



Whether you agree with him or not, I thought I would share it.
Thank you. Thank you very much.

If you need me, I'll be under my desk

My baby, the one I dropped off at school for her first day at Kindergarten, like, two days ago, is a junior in high school today.



My baby, the one whose hair I have fixed every year on the first day of school, came down the hall this morning and said, “Momma, would you fix my hair today?”



My baby, the one I have taken to school every year since Kindergarten, drove herself to school this morning.

If you need me, I’ll be curled up in the fetal position under my desk at work.

Love,
Bug’s Momma