Chicken In My Hair

My 3 year old is very busy little Aspie.  Smart as a whip and stubborn as a little mule.  I mentioned the other day that we are working on table manners.  The world is just such an interesting place from his eyes.   Where you and I would see a grilled chicken breast, he sees a lump of play doh.  At times, I have turned my back for one minute and have returned to find him shampooing his hair with lemon chicken. I speak firmly and he knows he's done wrong so his response is "Mommy, do you want to cuddle?  You not happy with BJ?"  He throws his arms around me....who can resist!?

After my son is washed up, I head out to run errands.  Third stop was the grocery store. I keep BJ on a gluten free diet since I've noticed that it does wonders for his ability to focus.  As usual, there is always a product I can't find and it's usually the GF pretzels, the one's he begs for endlessly.  I locate a store clerk and a conversation sparks up (typical of me).  We talk and talk and all the while she stares at the top of my head. What the heck is going on with this woman?  Can I grab her face?  I'm in Florida, our best tool to measure humidity levels is often the size of the poof on our heads.  I wonder if I'm having an 80's, Diana Ross style hair day.   We finally say our good bye's, I grab my pretzels and move on to the next stop.  

I'm driving in the car, still thinking about the awkward experience with the store clerk.  As soon as the light turns red, I decide to pull down my visor and tame my locks.  There is was, 1/4 of BJ's chicken breast floating on top of my head and dozens of mini shreds of chicken snow gracefully interlocked in my curls.  As I was fantasizing about rearranging the angle of the clerks head, she was mentally washing my hair!  Did I mention this was my THIRD stop?  I wonder how people can see this and not try to save you?  Maybe I have a higher comfort level than most.  Last week I ran after a woman who walked out of the bathroom with what seemed like a yard of toilet paper stuck to her shoe.  She gave me a strange look, but who cares?  I saved her!

I have been asked many times, why I have named my blog "Chicken In My Hair".   This name symbolizes more than just my ridiculous spectacle at a store.  It is the essence of motherhood.  The love that we feel for our children surpasses our need to take a moment for ourselves at times.  Don't get me wrong, I do love to look cute but I didn't think twice when indulging in that delicious chicken covered hug.  These moments are here today and gone in the blink of an eye.  Enjoy the blessed messes and hug them anyway. 

Chicken Again?

Just when I'd run out of ways to make chicken!  I make chicken almost every day. My family is about to grow feathers and cluck.  Sometimes my husband walks in from work and hands me a pack of salmon, with this desperate look on his face....begging me to PLEASE stop.  

This one is so GOOD!  It's the concept of  Vaca Frita, "Fried Cow", a Cuban dish, except that its made with chicken.  It is lemony, garlicy, finely shredded meat, a little crisp and so tasty. Great over rice.

Chicken "Fried Cow" (corny name...and I'm happy to not take the credit for it)

Vaca Frita de Pollo

2 lbs dark meat chicken (legs and thighs)

½ cup SOUR orange juice (if sour orange not available, use lemon)

¼ cup lime juice 

5 tbsp vegetable oil

1 tsp oregano (minced)

¼ tsp cumin

1 bay leaf

6 garlic cloves (minced)

¼ tsp freshly ground pepper

2 medium onions (very thinly sliced)

Salt and ground pepper to taste

Directions:

Simmer chicken and bay leaf for about 40-50 minutes or until meat is tender and falls off the bones.

Remove chicken from liquid and allow it to cool.  When cool, debone and shred using two forks, then use your hands to shred. The thinner the slices, the crispier it gets at the end.

In a skillet, add about 2-3 tbsp of oil, add minced garlic and sauté on medium for about 1 minute, then add the sour orange juice, lime juice, cumin, oregano and pepper. Stir well, let it simmer for about 2 minutes and remove from heat. Pour that mixture in a separate bowl and set aside.

Using same frying pan, heat it over medium-high, add the remaining oil, once oil is hot, add the shredded chicken and sauté for about 1 minute. Add the thinly sliced onion and cook on medium-high, stirring constantly, until chicken turns brown and feels a little crisp, but onions are translucent and soft. Add about 3 tbsp of the mojo you just made and stir fry for another 2 minutes or until the mojo has almost evaporated completely. Add salt and pepper to taste. Remove from heat.

Place on a Serving dish while it is still hot. Pour some of the mojo (the lemon sauce) over it.  

Steak Night

I have been watching my carbs lately.  I have not had a dessert, a grain of rice, piece of bread or pasta or anything that makes me feel alive since May.  Sure, I am losing weight...slowly but I guess that's how it goes in your 40's.  I don't have much to look forward to as far at meal times anymore but I was thinking that I do love a good skirt steak.  So, today I thought I'd treat myself.  A big juicy steak with some grilled zucchini.  All day I've had that bad boy marinating in my home made Cuban mojo seasoning.  Ohhh, this is gonna be gooood!  

It has been a busy day and I have spent it running around and driving in the rain.  My teenage daughter is out of town this week with family and I am alone with my 3 year old tasmanian devil.  Normally, she will watch him so I can do little things like bathing or peeing. Until you're a parent of a little one, you don't appreciate these things that now involve a strategic, perfectly executed plan.  I also depend on my dog Panchi to clean up BJ's food spills.   I'm working hard on teaching BJ table manners.  He has a habit of just "discarding" whatever he dislikes off of his plate and simply flinging it over his shoulder with this regal "be gone with you" expression.  It's kinda funny though I never let him see me smirk.  I pretend to be upset and then I call the dog.  She has proven to be a real time saver.   I'm thinking Roomba would have made a better name for her. 

Evening arrives and it's finally time to prepare our yummy dinner.  I'm a walking zombie today so I decide to also make a pot of coffee.  I plate and serve the steak and veggies the I have been fantasizing about all day, along with my cup o' joe.  As I am about to sit, BJ asks to go potty so I take him on the adventure.  When I return, I find that my dog-Roomba has sucked up all my steak and is now half way through my coffee.  I gave her the evil eye and briefly pictured her on a plate, disguised as sweet and sour "chicken".   Tomorrow is a new day.  For now, I will have a slice of ham and cheese and call it a day.  

Don't let the sweet face fool ya..

You're Grounded!

When did the words "good morning" become offensive? Every morning I happily greet my teen and I'm met with a series of whiny grunts.  I ask again hoping for a different result but the grunts get louder.  Where did my sweet little girl go? My little girl would cuddle up with me on the couch every morning and repeatedly tell me how much she loved me.  It is very uncool now, I guess.....but what do I know? Some time shortly after her 13th birthday, her view of her genius mother with vast knowledge about anything in question, suddenly warped. Sometimes I feel that she looks at me and sees Patrick Star walking around the house with beads of drool hanging from my lip.  At 13 she became an expert in all areas including life.  Was I this annoying?

Earlier this week, a simple suggestion was met with a door slam.  I was going to remove the door off the hinge but opted to spoil all her fun and take her back to the 60's.  I took her PSP, Playstation, X-Box, Wii, headphones and iPod.  Now she has to live the horror that I grew up with, now she has to be creative!  I'm loving it!  The problem is that historically, when I ground her, I tend to forget where I hid her things.  I wrote myself a note last time to remind me but I forgot where I put it.  So when the day comes to return her item(s), I'm a deer caught in the headlights.  I come up with anything that could buy me another day to ransack the house.  I panic: "No, I'm sorry but you raised your voice at me this morning and you will have one more day.  Learn to respect."  Oh God, help me!  Hell hath no fury like a teenage Scorpio with lost gadgets!  After running out of options, I tell her that if she can find it, she can have it.  I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath.....3, 2, 1.... "OMG!  YOU LOST MY iPOD AGAIN!!" !@#$%^&*.  Me: "Nooo, I just thought a scavenger hunt would be fun".  I always admit it at the end and eventually perfectly assume the roll of Patrick Star, standing in a puddle of drool...duhhhhh.  

I'm sure it is just a phase.  At some point she will come to see that I had to live a little to get to this age.  I will keep reflecting back on teenage Me, the pain in the butt I was and who I have become.  I yelled, whined, rebelled, slammed doors and loved the guys my parents hated.  Sweet revenge on my parents behalf.  I seemed to not listen but my mothers words always rang in my head at just the right time.  I made good decisions behind her back.  I hope that while my hormonal, omniscient child is appearing to ignore me, I am planting seeds in her curly little head.

Road Trip

Went out of town this weekend to visit family.  We fared amazingly well considering my case of PMS.  I'm thinking that my husband did the math and realized that it's best that he watch the road today.  My cartoon and I have been together for almost 10 years and for 10 years I have had to give him directions.  At times, we have ended up miles from our destination (20 to be exact) because I have looked away for a second.  I finally purchased a GPS.  We named the GPS wife replacement, Sally. Upon the first use we realized that Sally WAS in fact another tuned out wife, begging him to exit, begging him to u-turn and I sensed her annoyance when she had to continue "RECALCULATING". I thought I'd find the solution by replacing Sally with Mike, a male voice, a buddy...nothing.  I added an alarm before Mike would speak....nothing.  I finally ditched Mike and Sally and soon my 3 year old understood the concept of a u-turn.  At every turn he now screams "RECALCULATING"!  Anyway, this trip was different and it was the first time he made it without me, Sally or Mike.  I sat there quietly and confused.  It was just me, my iPod and my thoughts, without the stress induced heartburn.

I started a book club recently on Facebook. My 53 girls are having a blast reading and discussing this book, Fifty Shades of Grey.  Apparently it's pretty spicy and you'd think that would motivate me to read faster.  It's just like me to start the club and be the only one still on chapter 3.  Most are done and on the second book of the trilogy.  I read at night but quickly fall asleep.  So, I decided to be a better leader and catch up by reading in the car but got so carsick that I nearly hurled on silent Sally.  

We finally arrive to our beloved family.  Uncle Tim is a bright, successful and quirky fellow.  For some reason he always chooses one word or phrase and uses it repeatedly through our entire stay.  The word of choice is used randomly at approximately half hour regular intervals.  If our first topic of that visit is mangoes then the word is "MANNGOO"....all day....every day...till we leave.  We are able to archive our visits by name.  "Remember the "Helllloooooooo" visit?"  "Oh, yeah, I let you borrow that movie on the "Hambuglar" visit." And so it goes. The word of the weekend was "Teddybear."  

It was very nice and we enjoyed the perfect 67 degree weather.  The kids had a great time with their cousins and the moms had great wine to tune out the happy kids.  Don't judge.


Here is my baby being Uncle Tim's teddybear, hence the phrase of the weekend.

Don Snippet

More about Don....just a excerpt from todays events:

Me:  "Donny, I was told my tires need rotation.  Can you do it before our trip?"
Don: " Do I need a jack for that right?"
Me:   "Oh, don't bother, I will lift the car up for you."
Don: "So, what's involved? I lift it with the jack and spin the tire around?"

Oh dear God! (I did married him for his kind heart...)

Just Another Saturday

OH good morning, zit!  I stumble out of bed and always try to walk past the dresser mirror to avoid the pre-coffee fright.  Accidentally, I catch a glimpse of the horror that is me today.  Sometime around the second week of the month I have my “ugly time”.  This is when I begin to look like my father, not that he is ugly, he is actually quite adorable...but its not a look that works for me.  I always thought that being zit free was one of the (very few) benefits of turning 40.  So what the hell is this mess on my chin?  I guess I should be glad that I still have some signs of youth that linger.  As everything else is beginning to droop and lose its shape, I still have my tube of Clearasil and the scent of Stridex pads to remind me of days gone by.

Today, as I have for the past 3 weeks, I continue my adventures in potty training.  Insanity is a kind way of describing my emotions regarding this venture.  He’d sit on the potty and jabber endlessly for 30 minutes about his privates and what his reward should be.  “Mommy, my wiener says Hi!” It was important to him that I greet his wiener at every visit to the potty.  My child was training alright, only not in the way I'd like.  After 6 times a day x 30 minutes of endless toddler chatter and NO pee in the potty, he would stand up and proceed to the living room area rug and stand there to pee.  He was a very good puppy....perfectly wee-pad trained.  Just before my surrender, a miracle occurred.  All he really cares about is the sound things make. I explained that wee wee makes a sound and how cool it would be to hear it.  Eureka that was it!  Today I continue with phase 2, poo-poo. I will buy myself a pair of shoes for every 2 bags of pull ups I no longer need to buy.

As I write this, my husband has just walked in the door.  He works on Saturdays, so why is he here?  I have just learned that he has taken this as a vacation day and remembered this after he arrived at work.  I did explain that he is indeed a cartoon character.  Saturday is my quiet day, my daughter goes with her dad and I’m here with my toddler who takes LONG naps.  For a good 3-4 hours, I am free, I am quiet, I can think, sleep, watch a movie....things I dream of all week.  He has the day off, I’m faking my smile.  Is this wrong?