Cowgirl Kenna Rides

We have some kids in our neighborhood who are on the NMSU Rodeo Team. They invited us out to watch a calf roping yesterday at the arena, which is right across University from our house, at the base of “A” Mountain. Some quick background: we went to Sunland Park Racetrack with Kenny’s family for his mom’s birthday, and I bought Kenna a stuffed horse she named “Number 3”. She’s been in love and inseparable from that horse ever since. When we got to the arena last night, she was clearly in her element.

Our neighbor Brett walked over with his horse, Charlie. “Hey, Family!” he said, leading Charlie in between him and us. Charlie lowered his head in McKenna’s general direction. She lifted her hand up, rubbed the velvety muzzle of his nose and said, “I love you. What’s your name?” Brett made an introduction, and Kenna’s daddy lifted her up so she could be eye-to-eye with Charlie. “Hi Charlie,” she said. “Can I give you a kiss?” She leaned in towards Charlie, and I grabbed Kenny’s phone. Why did I forget my camera again? These are the moments I want to capture. I missed the kiss, but I managed to grab this one:



She’s a natural. Her sister watched from atop Lainey’s shoulders, wide-eyed and hesitant. “Did you want to pet Charlie, Stevie?” I asked. She shook her head. “No, let Kenna do it. His teeth are too big!”

The rodeo kids saddled up and headed towards the arena to warm up. We took our spots on the bleachers. Kenna never took her eyes off the center pen. She was quiet, watching as each horse trotted in, pulling her hand up next to her face with her index finger pointing towards the action. “One, two, three, four…” She was taking inventory. “Momma, how many horses can you have?”

Kenny chuckled. He knew what was coming. “I don’t know, Kenna,” I said. “I suppose you can have as many as you have room for.” Oops. Wrong thing to say.

Kenna turned to Kenny. “Daddy, how much room do we have?”

“Not enough, Mac,” Kenny told her. The thought of a For Sale sign in front of our yard popped into my head, followed by endless boxes to pack, a house unreachable by pizza delivery boys, and perpetual manure on the bottoms of my shoes.

Another friend of ours rode up behind the bleachers where we were sitting. Dixie has two horses at the arena that she rides on the rodeo team. She was riding a cute little colt, just about 5 years old. His name was Bolt, she said, “and for good reason. You never know which way he’s gonna go, but he’s getting better.”

Kenna crawled out of her daddy’s lap, jumped off the bleachers and within seconds was under Bolt’s bridle, arms outstretched. “Can I ride him, Dixie?” Oh no. With a name like Bolt, this was one horse I would rather avoid. I didn’t have time to act. Dixie hopped off, scooped up my baby and plopped her in the saddle. “Good boy, Bolt,” she whispered.

Kenna did the same. “Goooooood boooooy, Bolt.” She patted his neck and reached for the reins. Momma had to speak up.

“She’s never been on a horse, Dix,” I said, trying to keep myself from grabbing my baby off the back of Bolt.

I could see Dixie’s fingers wrapped tightly around the reins. She was in control. “Why don’t we just walk around?” Slowly, Bolt loped behind Dixie, as she took my baby around in a circle. I wished my grandpa could see this.



I see cowboy boots in our future. And manure.


Love,
McKenna’s Mom

p.s. Stevie did get on the back of Bolt last night, but the picture is being held hostage in Kenny’s phone.

She Isn't Always This Cute

If you have a dog, or ever had a dog in your life, there's a moment in time when you truly fall in love with them. This photo was that moment for me, the one that made me realize I was about to become a sucker for Libby.

This week, Libby turned one. If I wasn't so crazy tired right now, I would tell you the whole story. It's a long one. There is heartache and destruction involved.

But I'm too tired to relive it. I would cry and it would keep me up. You would wonder why she still lived here. You would wonder how it is she still lives.

I'll tell you tomorrow. Libby wants to go to bed now.

Good night.

My Dog is King

Those Westminster mutts ain't got nothin' on my dog.
Sure, they have poise and grace.

And some could pass as Louie's identical twin.


Okay...and some have hotter owners than Louie.



But my lazy Louie is better.



He can eat ice cream on his birthday while those other snobby show dogs eat yucky dog food.



Louie has a charm even Westminster can't top.



And in our house, Louie lives like a king.



Love,
Louie's Mom

A Latchkey Kid's Staple Food

Do they even make this stuff anymore?

If you're a product of the 80s, have divorced parents, or remember the "ABC After School Special", raise your hand. Hi there. It's good to know I'm not alone.

I'm actually a product of all three, and Pizza Quick was a staple in our house. Growing up, there were a few hours in between the time my sister and I got home after school and the time our mother walked in the door. I think "Latchkey Kid" was the token term that categorized my sister and me. Whatever you called kids like us, we all ended our day the same way - alone, and hungry. Pizza Quick was our mother's saving grace. It fed us fast for years. Whether or not it fed us good is up for debate.

Over the weekend, I threw together a really quick and dirty pizza...without Pizza Quick. (By the way, if you didn't figure it out 25 years ago, Pizza Quick is just spaghetti sauce.) I had a basic recipe for dough, and there were two different kinds of cheese in the fridge: mozzarella and Parmesan. What I didn't have was sauce, but I did have a jar of Trader Joe's bruschetta topping. Here's the end product:



I wish you could taste this. Lucky for me, I was able to snap a photo before my daughter ate the last piece. It wasn't Pizza Quick, but it was pizza that went quick. Big difference.

Two Ducks in the Tub

Some nights, getting the girls in the tub is a monumental task. You have to compromise. You have to negotiate. You have to promise things. And you have to be willing to get wet.

Girls, it's time to get in the tub.

Not now, Mom.

But if you don't get in the tub, your skin will get so dirty it will fall off and everyone will be able to see your gooey guts.

We don't care. Guts are cool, Mom. How come we can't see Dad's guts? He's pretty dirty.

If you get in the tub, I'll give you a cookie.

We ate them all when you were making dinner.

If you get in the tub, I'll let you watch Spongebob.


Mom, Spongebob is a poor representation of aquatic life, and not at all an accurate representation of how to maintain a healthy relationship with your friends and culinary work colleagues.

You guys are full of crap. Get in the tub.

Can we have a hamster?

No hamsters.

Can we have a pony?

No room for a pony.

Can we go to Disneyland?

No.

Can we watch Spongebob?

Sure.

If nothing else, I knows my boudaries, Peeps.
Love,
ManicMommy

Good Enough to Eat: Spaghetti Squash with Tomatoes & Mozzarella

Sometimes I throw things in a pan and they end up in the trash. Sometimes I throw things in a pan and then end up on Facebook. Here's an example of the latter that you just have to try - especially if you're one of those Resolutionaries like myself. This year marked my 15th anniversary of making the same resolution. I love being predictable.

• 1 spaghetti squash
• 1 tbsp butter or olive oil
• 3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 cup cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
• 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese, salt & pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350. Slice spaghetti squash in half lengthwise and lie face down on a baking sheet. Line it with aluminum and I'll show you a trick later that makes scooping this thing out pretty easy. Bake for about 45 minutes, then remove and let it rest for about a half hour...unless you want to burn the crap out of yourself. Using a fork, scrape the squash in spaghetti strands onto the aluminum. When you're done, just pick up the aluminum, and transfer to the skillet, or into an airtight container if you're going to save it for later. (Hint: I baked the squash the day before, which made the prep on this dish fast and easy. Who loves being fast and easy? I do! Don't tell my husband. Thank you.)

In a large skillet, melt butter or olive oil. For better taste and fewer calories, use reduced-calorie margarine. For fewer calories and less guilt about clogging your heart, use olive oil. Add garlic and sautee for a few minutes, until garlic is fragrant but not brown. Add spaghetti squash and sautee for another couple of minutes. Again, this is a fast and easy process. If you're making this as a side dish, save this for last. Add salt and pepper and tomatoes. Sautee for another minute to let the tomatoes soften. Remove from heat and add mozzarella, folding it in until it's melted. You can always add more cheese, which makes it super delish but not so low-cal. ;)

I Survived Another Year

I did it. Another year of spending, wrapping, baking, cooking, cleaning, hostessing, discussing, and cussing. Done. And I have 364 days to recharge my battery before it starts all over again.

Don't think I'm complaining - I'm really not. But you can't have Christmas without "mas", which in my language means mucho, much, a lot. It's just too much...too much stuff, too much to do, too much food, too much coordination, too much scheduling. A girl can lose her mind. I almost did.

But it was a pleasant holiday. The girls are finally old enough to enjoy Christmas like little girls should. And we are lucky to enjoy it through their eyes.

Which is good, because nearly a week later, mine are still red and weary.

Adios, 2010. See you next year.