Pancakes, Brackets, and Hail-Cores, Oh my!

Nothing like a carb-filled brunch to start off a day full of basketball and storm watches. Don't worry, Aubrey. Right after this picture was taken, I put the Wild Blueberry Syrup from Maine back in the refrigerator. I need to preserve all of it's yumminess until my in-laws make their big move back to Maine in July. Then, I can have them ship all of my Maine favorites to me anytime I want. They have some monks up there that make THE BEST seedless raspberry jam on earth.

Needless to say, Nathan is in his happy place. March Madness brackets surround him as he flips back and forth between Gary and Rick. Oh how I miss my cute little red-head weatherman. Aaron T. was way more fun to keep me advised than that new guy they replaced him with. Enid, however has already taken her tornado precautions in the guest bathroom. Do they make teeny-tiny pink bicycle helmets?

***************
This weekend wrapped up the Elite Eight and pretty much wrapped up my only chance of winning our family/friend tournament to be if Kansas takes it to the end. According to the scenario calculations that my slightly obsessive husband has drafted, I could also get second place if Memphis faces Kansas in the final game and the Tigers happen to win.

Whatever. I've put my money on both of these teams in the past, and I've yet to come home with the money the past four years we've been doing this. The hope of being able to have a professional design a new background for my blog with my winnings is the only thing that gets me through this month of weird names, weird tattoos and penetration. (Can they not come up with a new term for that? Seriously.)

Here are a few pics from the latest March Madness get-together at B and D's. Three down, two to go.

"They walk alike. They talk alike."

He looks cute folks. But, I'm convinced that all that Sooner blood dressed in orange tainted one of my final team picks from continuing on.

"Please welcome the President and V.P. of the Double-Chin club."

Exactly at what age do you lose your baby fat? Twenty nine?

"Is this guy gonnna share that ice cream or what?"

Niece Night

So, my two nieces are in town from Arkansas for their Spring Break and my sister and I decided to snag them from the 'rents for a girls night. We planned to grab dinner and then hang out at home and play Rock Band.

Here are a some interesting things I learned. I thought I would share in case you were in the dark like I was:

1. The way to hit on a 13 year old girl in Arkansas is to take her on a ride on your four-wheeler.
2. Guys are only "hot" if they look like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo.
3. Text messaging is equal to breathing. It must be done AT ALL TIMES! This includes in the car, getting out of the car, going into the restaurant, while ordering, while eating, leaving the restaurant and so on. It's unlimited for a reason, DUH!
4. "True love" is shown by sending songs to your significant other's phone.
5. Girls in AR don't play "hard-to-get." It's better to be "easy-gettin."
6. Target is cheap. Wal-Mart is cool AND has hotter guys. (See #2 above)
7. Guys who pick an item off of the shelf and then proceed to walk to the checkout, pay, and then leave the store are "stalkers." They can only be dealt with by being "stalked" in return.
8. If the guy at Starbucks makes you a full-fat caramel latte by mistake and then makes you the correct skinny latte, that means that he was trying to pick you up. EVEN if you are wearing a wedding ring. (Yes!! I must be one hot babe! I don't even want to know what it means if he "forgets" to leave off the whip)


I don't know where they get this from. I mean, no one else in our family acts like this:

Is it the weekend yet?

Whew! The work week has just begun and I'm already ready for hitting the exit door at work on Friday. This weekend was so jam-packed with activities that I'm was almost glad to go to work and sit at my desk for 9 hours staring at my computer. Then, I actually did it and decided otherwise.

It probably would have been a lot nicer if I wasn't still having excruciating back spasms and stiffness. I'm beginning to think I may have to go against everything I believe and seek out a chiropractor. I'll do almost anything, including risking getting the heebie-jeebies from the thought of someone "adjusting" my spine or neck or whatever. What if it doesn't help? What if I end up paralyzed? Are they even real doctors? Ugh! At this point, I no longer care. I've taken every muscle relaxer, steroid, and pain killer that Wal-Mart pharmacy has and nothing has helped. This pain is killing me and I want it gone.

***** Insert prayers here, please. I'll wait ... *****

...

(waiting)

...

**** You can say another one. Ya know, just to be safe. ****

Ok, thanks! On to happier thoughts.

The first two rounds of March Madness have officially ended and I stand pretty good in the "Everyone Liz and Nate Know" tournament. I'm in second place right now, with all of my final four picks still safe. Not too shabby for a five minute bracket in between sips of a sugar-free non-fat caramel latte. Especially, since I was grumpy from just discovering that my friendly neighborhood Starbucks no longer supplies the light version of Strawberry Frappuccinos. Darn them! Kansas better go all the way, so I can collect my bracket winnings and buy some Weight Watcher points to afford the full-fat version they still offer. That's how WW points work, right?



Here are the cupcakes I made for the March Madness party we hosted on Saturday night. The orange ones were supposed to be basketballs, but it just didn't happen.

I mean, there's absolutely no reason to be obsessive about it. It's a cupcake. Who cares what color the frosting is. As long as it tastes decent. I mean no one in their right mind would spend more than three seconds fretting over a dinky little cupcake or the fact that the orange was not a Tuscan orange but a rather neon looking orange. Or that the frosting should have been piped with a star tip for texture emphasis complete with chocolate seam stripes perfectly symmetric on each and every little one instead of a big slathered glob of frosting from a tube. It's not like the 17 year old clueless stock boy at Target cared when you frantically demanded that they start selling orange buttercream by the pound 2 hours before the party starts. Get over it people! I am. Can't you tell?


Here is a place setting for my Easter table. Eat your heart out Martha! You know you wish you could have put my 72 cent/person decor in your April issue. Maybe if you would have waited until midnight to put it together with clearance scrapbook paper, empty twig wreaths, and some faux grass, you could have sold more copies this month.


My 6.5 lb. loin. Yeah, that's something you want to have to deal with right after a 7am mass; massaging your loin with freshly minced herbs. It's a good thing I like my family.

It's also a good thing Brooke was otherwise committed for Easter brunch. I'm not sure if I could have kept her out of all of those deviled eggs that she raves about. She loves those thick, yellow goo-filled wonders so. Maybe, if she would have been present for the first Easter lunch I served, she could have reminded me to make more deviled eggs for the Easter dinner I was supposed to attend a few hours later. Would have been quite helpful to avoid the embarrassing phone call to the in-laws inquiring about an alternative assignment to bring, seeing as I completely forgot to make a second batch until it was time to leave. Any one have ideas of what to do with the extra 27 eggs I have on hand now?

Oh, Enid. I warned you against eating all of those Peeps. I mean, I know Jessica's blog has been tempting you all week. But, where's your dignity? And your Christian values?

It's March Madness, Baby!

... and this is what it will look like at my house for the next three weeks. Jealous, huh.
Aside from basketball, March has gone a little mad at the Blais' household. Here's a list to catch you up:

1 HR conference in Norman
1 drink out with co-workers
1 lb. gained at WW (ummm, must have been the drink)
2 meals and one non-buying shopping spree with friends and family
1 pinched nerve, 1 Dr. Visit, 7 x-rays, 3 prescriptions and still a sore back
1 -24 hour stomach bug
2 new eye contacts
1 dinner party with friends
1 Starbucks with other friends
1 Sushi night with more friends
4 chapters completed for Book Club

Whew! No, wonder I'm tired. That was just this past week. But, never fear. To celebrate my perseverance and not being served divorce papers this week, I bought the most awesome smelling candle today. I'm serious people. You're gonna want to move in; it smells so yummy.

Nateorology

(pronounced Nay-tea-o-rawl-o-gee)

This just happens to be the title of my new blog, which is all about the weather. It is my excuse to spew incesantly about weather without worrying about boring people. I promise I'll still contribute to this blog (I know it's been a while....I'll try to get better.) Anyway, if you ever want to get your nerd on, come on over!

Let me introduce you to a little thing called SOAP!

I know that I'm quite the germa-phobe. I completely understand that not all people are as passionate as I am about keeping pancake syrup in the fridge or not eating anything with mayonnaise in it at a picnic in the park in August. I get that. But, is it really to freakin' much to ask that E-V-E-R-Y single person please take a few seconds to wash your hands after using the bathroom? Good Grief People!!

I use the bathroom probably no less than 5 times a day. And pay close attention. I wash my hands ALL 5 times. It's simple, really. I open the stall door. I turn on the water. I grab some soap. I scrub. I rinse. I wave my hand in front of the red light or in rare instances, I use my elbow to punch down the towel dispenser lever. I dry my hands. I use the paper towel to open the door. I throw the paper towel away. See, it's easy!

Why do people find this so difficult? All of those steps could have been completed in the time it took me to type them out. Granted, I'm not that great of a typist, but at least I can admire my nice fecal-matter free hands as I try to hunt for the next letter.

C'mon, America. Clean up your act!

That's just my ba-bee dad-dee...

So besides being busy with everything under the sun (sorry for the lack of blogging AND the lack of commenting, Emily), much discussion has been going on at our house about when we should start to seek additional help in trying to get pregnant.

I've tried to ease Nathan's nerves about parenthood and infertility by suggesting trying out a new and often controversial approach to determining the source of our issues. While many of you may disagree, I'm determined that this may be the best and only way for us to go. I've mentioned to my devoted husband on several occasions that I think it would be most beneficial for our cause for me to spend A LOT of one on one time with Derek Shepherd. I mean, he IS a doctor! AND it's always good to seek help from someone that you want to make your dreams come true from someone that has Dreamy in his title. I mean, it couldn't hurt, right?

Unsurprisingly, Nathan wasn't convinced. So in continued efforts to put him at ease with the idea of one day being my bebe's daddy, I found an online instruction guide to help him. It even includes tutorial pictures to insure no confusion. Below were some of my faves. I thought it was really funny that all of the pictures of what NOT to do were the male pics.

Just one example of things that are okay to do with our cat, but not a baby. Chasing her down the hallway until she bites you and locking her in the closet all day would be others on the list.

Example of : No correct answer!

Yeah, I won't even go there. However, "Yes, that little patch of hair sprigs is very sexy, dear."

Included in the "Bad" category would also be forcing our baby to watch more than three episodes of Storm Stories in a row or teaching our child to about standard deductions and diversifying their 401K. Not that I don't find those things thrilling....

In case this picture is confusing you, dear, that is a dryer. It sits next to the washing machine in what is known as the laundry room. It makes your clothes warm and wrinkle free.

Could someone please multiply me?

AND my high school reunion packets?!

THIS would be why I haven't been blogging.

Let's hope I pop out a kid in the next ten years so I have an excuse not to have to design and print these suckers again. Let's also hope that Nathan has learned his lesson about not letting me buy a real publishing program for our computer. 400 pages later, I may sleep through the reunion.