Some craftiness over the past few weeks...

Kensi's Baby Naming was last Saturday.  I wanted to do a few things (including make the cake for the party) and found a few other ideas along the way. 

A few months ago, while having lunch with my Mom in Newport Beach, we stumbled across a cute little bakery that made sugar cookies with pictures on them.  (Their claim to fame was having made the cookies for the President's inauguration party.)  Of course, with that kind of publicity and a Newport Beach address, you can imagine what their prices were like!  After some well-spent time on Google, I found a bakery in Canoga Park that could put pictures on cookies for a much better price.  I finally picked out the photos that I wanted to use and sent them off.  When the cookies arrived, I was trying to figure out a way to display the cookies and make sure that people took them after the party.  This is what I came up with.

 I put sticks on the back of each cookie, and then using my candy molds, made some candy flowers and Stars of David to round out the box.  I used styrofoam and tissue paper to fill up the bottom of the box and keep everything raised up and went from there.  You can't really tell, but I also had white tulle wound around some of the sticks.  The flower cookies are big sister Brooklyn and the squares are Kensi.  More than a few people told me that they would not be able to eat those little faces, and I have yet to try them, so someone who was able to bite into B will have to tell me if the cookies were any good.  :)

For my next project, I borrowed an idea that a friend had posted on her website.  Generally speaking, no decorations are needed for a baby naming party and people were just gathering at Ray and Ronnye's for food and to hang out.  There was no question who was the guest of honor, but I decided to put a few more pictures of her around, in case there was any doubt.  Using Erin's idea, I put a picture of Kensi inside of a jar with some pink tulle and wrapped some ribbon around the jar.  I tried putting a little light in the jar too, but it didn't really work well.  Maybe if the party was at night it would have added something, but since it didn't, I took them out.  Here's how one of the jars turned out.

And then there's the cake.  I decided to do the cake myself, but also didn't really have the time to bake it.  So I ordered the cake plain from the grocery store and took it home to decorate.  I finally got to use my Cricut Cake for the first time (bought it on Black Friday last November) and it worked o.k.  I got mixed reviews from the ladies at the cake store where I bought my supplies, and did have some minor hiccups, but I supposed it worked out.

As you can tell, pink was the color of the day (of course! what else for our princess?)  I think I was cutting the border for the top part of the cake in this one.  The fondant was a bit soft for the cricut.  It worked well for the rest of what I was doing, but I think for the borders and designs I was cutting, I could have used something a little more stiff.  I also found out the hard way that the grocery store put WAY too much frosting on the cakes.  I was able to scrape some off of the bottom layer, but not the top layer, so the fondant slid just a bit overnight.  I also ended up baking another cake to put on top of the 1/2 sheet from the grocery store, so that the proportions of the top tier and bottom tier worked a little better.  The cake tasted good and from what everyone has said, it looked o.k.   I think I need some practice on my Cricut, but otherwise, the day and all of Kensi's decorations turned out very nice.

Happy Mother's Day!

In honor of Mother's Day - a little "card" to all of the Moms, Grandmas, Aunts, Nanas and other special and important women in our lives. Hope you have a great day.



Things my Mother Taught Me:

Religion - By saying "You better pray it comes out of the carpet!"

Roots - By saying "Shut that door behind you, you weren't raised in a barn!"

Logic - By saying "Because I said so!"

Foresight - By saying "Wear clean underwear in case you're in an accident."

Stamina - By saying "You'll sit there till all that spinach is gone!"

Anticipation - By saying "Just wait till your father gets home!"

Wisdom - By saying "You'll understand when you get to be my age."

Justice - By saying "One day you'll have kids and they'll turn out just like you."

Just a Few More Hours in the Day, Please?

There is a part in the movie Miracle on 34th Street (the remake with Elizabeth Perkins and whats-his-name that played an attorney on that show on ABC...anyway...) where Santa Claus (or St. Nicholas) explains how he is able to stop at every house in the world (the ones that celebrate Christmas, anyway) in one night.  He says something about slowing time down so that a minute actually equals an hour and "so on and so forth" which then enables him enough time to travel the world in one night's time (adjusting for time changes and the Greenwich line, of course.)  These days, I wonder more and more about the trick of St. Nick and how I can get some of that extra time.

It seems that there are never enough minutes (let alone hours) in the day.  I wake up each morning already feeling hopelessly behind in all things, with nary a hope of catching up.  Ever.  I have scrapbooking projects and gift ideas, albums from trips and places we've visited, all sitting around my craft room, untouched.  For this month, I have a list of things to finish in the next two weeks, Mother's Day projects, a T-Ball team's banner, something for Kensi's baby naming party and several baby albums.  That doesn't take into consideration the ongoing Project 365 (or Project Life) that requires a picture and a bit of journaling every day.  For the most part, I am keeping up on the journaling and taking photos.  It's actually getting them into the album where I tend to struggle.

I keep tabs on the creator of Project Life through her blog and Facebook.  From time to time, she posts links to other blogs by people who are also working on Project Life and includes photos of what their books look like.  I saw one today where the woman talked about her struggle to stay on top of things and that she was several weeks behind on her book.  Then I looked at the photos.  Not only was she making slight changes to the format of the project, to make it "her own," but she was creating parts of it from scratch!  Yikes!  And I'm having trouble keeping up just using the pieces that the project comes with (and my photos.)  To find time to add to it?  Oy!  And of course, in looking at how others are doing their Projects, it just gives me more ideas that I'd love to try on mine, if I only had the time.

As I leave my bedroom to head downstairs, I pass by a stack of things on the linen closet counter - a skirt that Brooklyn has ripped and wants me to fix, a pink stuffed shark that seems to have developed a hole (maybe he bit himself?) and that Brooklyn wants fixed, the front piece to a drawer in the girls' bathroom that came off and needs to be reattached... and the list goes on.  Walking into Kensi's room, I'm greeted by the stacks of clothes that she has already grown out of that need to be sorted to then be stored.

Some days, it is all I can do to come home and collapse on the couch, making sure to place Kensi on the floor in such a way that she can entertain herself without hurting herself, and making sure that Brooklyn isn't near any matches or open flames, and then I crash.  Yesterday I could barely keep my eyes open for the first 1/2 hour I was home, despite Brooklyn's best efforts to get me up and going.

At some point, I rallied to help B write a note to her teacher for an end-of-the-year gift, and then got dinner going.  After dinner and getting the girls to bed, I drew a tiger on orange felt and finished sewing a piece of the team banner together.  I vaguely remember what it felt like to have long days stretching before me with nothing to do and nowhere to go.  I don't necessarily want those days back - at this point I'd settle for one of those long days without distraction, so I could get all of those nagging little projects done and put away.  But where to start?

In the meantime, I'll keep making my lists and trying to keep myself organized (hahaha).  One of these days I'll actually write those submission letters to the magazines and one day, hopefully soon, I'll get back to the Mr. Bear collection and illustrate Greece and the U.K.  Maybe I'll even get to scrapbook our wedding and honeymoon, the 2004 and 2009 vacations, Brooklyn's first 5 years and both of my pregnancies before Kensi's first birthday. (HA!)  But first, a T-ball banner complete with 15 felt baseballs, a baby boy album, some Mother's Day gifts, some party decorations, and a few more pictures of the day.  And I'll keep trying to track down that extra-large, overly jolly guy in a red suit and see if he's got some extra time to spare.

Technology and the Wandering Jews

This past Saturday, we celebrated our Ninth Annual "Cohen Family Seder."  This is yet another example of my psychosis, having decided nine years ago to host a seder on the Saturday night of Passover week and invite "all who are hungry to come and eat."  The first two years were small events, in our condo in Sherman Oaks, with the makeshift tables stretching from the tiny dining room past the front door over to the fireplace on the other side of the living room.  After our move to Valencia, our numbers have grown (and shrank and grown again) and as always, the guest list is varied and includes our Jewish and non-Jewish friends and family.  Our family has grown with at least 4 little ones having been born over the past few years (and I think someone was even pregnant at our very first gathering.)  This year, we were 30 strong.  One friend was contemplating bringing a significant other and I told her that he might have to sit on her lap.  She thought I was joking.  We moved out the couches and chair and coffee table and rolled in rented tables and chairs and we all got very close. 

Over the years, we have gone through several different Haggadahs (the books that tell the Passover story) with each being tossed aside (figuratively speaking) in the search for something different, something better, something "more."  Rob's dad Ray led our little band of misfits over the first 7 years and we could never find a book that fit our group quite right.  Last year things got mixed up a bit, with Aunt Eunice handing the reins of her Seder (our family's First night celebration) over to Ronnye and Ray.  Since Ray was leading that seder, he told Rob that it was up to him to lead his own. (After all, it is our house, right?)  Rob decided to go out on a limb and venture far away from the books that we had used in the past, and instead wrote his own tale, a Passover play, if you will.  His surprise ending didn't carry quite the punch we had hoped, when the actor failed to deliver her line and another guest stepped all over it and delivered it for her, without quite realizing what he was saying.  (We chose to announce to our family and friends the impending arrival of Kensi by having his Mom deliver the parting line of "next year with another Cohen" after the traditional "next year in Jerusalem."  She was unable to speak her line, having read ahead and gotten a bit choked up at the news.)

Regardless, we strive each year to make things more interesting.  Not having another birth announcement to keep things going this year, we had to look for something else to do.  I came up with an interesting challenge for our guests.  The story of Passover tells of the Jewish people's flight from Egypt following G-d's deliverance of the plagues and the Pharoah's order for the people to leave.  Our people left in a hurry, without time to let the bread to rise.  The Seder describes the plagues and explains the symbolism in what we eat, why we eat it and even how we are supposed to eat it (reclining to the left.)  But the Seder doesn't discuss what came after.  After Moses led the people out of Egypt and after they crossed the Red Sea, the people wandered in the desert for 40 years.  G-d provided food (manna) and water when it was needed, but what else did the people want or need that they did without for 40 years?  And knowing that they were to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, what did they take with them?

I issued this challenge to our guests, to consider what they would have done, if placed in a similar situation and told to wander the desert for 40 years.  What would they bring with them, and why?  I provided some guidance, that at least 1 or 2 of the items should be "necessary" such as toothpaste, and asked what sentimental items they might bring.  The results were predictable as far as the "necessaries" were concerned, but much more interesting when you consider the sentimental side of things.  It became readily apparent as the discussion moved around the tables from guest to guest, that we were separating into groups based upon our age.  These groups were not born out of what we wanted to bring or could not leave behind, but were based on the technology relied on to achieve those goals.

The discussion started with people telling us what they brought - chapsticks, toothpaste, granola bars, etc.  Rob and I then tried to move the discussion away from the necessities and more toward the sentimental, things that they could not live without.  To provide a real life example, I used myself and explained that I could not go anywhere without my pictures of my girls and my family.  (Anyone who knows me knows that I am somewhat defined by my picture taking and scrapbooking.)  I mentioned bringing my laptop with all of those pictures. (Of course, Ray immediately went to the practical question - how and where would I plug it in, but that's beside the point.)  From there, the discussion got rolling with more and more guests opting to bring photos or albums.  Then we got to the kids. As I mentioned, a line formed by age and it seemed that the younger members of our group quickly went the route of technology, opting to bring their iPhones or iPods, in order to have their collections of music and games close at hand.  One young guest (age 13) wanted her phone so that she could text and stay in contact with her friends.  I apparently fell on the "older" side of the group, having forgotten that so much information can now be carried on something just a few inches square, thinking instead of my laptop which apparently has gone the way of the dinosaurs.

I'm not sure that the object of the lesson was completely grasped (after all, who would provide the cell service or internet connection in the desert?) but the thought process was certainly amusing.  These days, we are surrounded by technology which allows us to keep in constant contact.   I'm not sure anyone "checked in" on Facebook as being at my house Saturday night, but the option is certainly there.  We can instantly tell where our friends are and who they are with.  Celebrities "tweet" their locations and watch as waves of paparazzi follow them around.  We call and text at the touch of a button, we email and surf the net to stay on top of world affairs.  But when it all goes away, what are you left with?  If cell service is gone and the internet is no more, what would you have?  Our children think in terms of this technology, wanting to maintain a connection to their friends and their music.  We adults tend to think in terms of our history, wanting to maintain a connection to our past, holding on to our memories in photos and albums.  Are they right?  Are we wrong?  Or is there a middle ground?  As I type this, I am certain that if cell service dropped completely today, most of the teens in our world right now would not be able to figure out how to pick up a land line phone and call a friend, let alone figure out how to walk to a friend's house without the aid of Google Maps on their smart phones.  For now, I am in limbo, since B is too young to have a cell phone and would rather sit with me and look at my albums and pictures.  For now.  But the time is coming, I am sure, when I will have to enter the battle of the past, and history, versus the future and technology.  I hope that there can be a happy medium or a middle ground, that we can achieve amazing things with technology but still keep that connection to our past.

In the meantime, I can be found in my office, trying to get a handle on the thousands and thousands of pictures I've taken over the years and trying to keep up with all of the new ones I'm still taking.  Feel free to stop by for a trip down my memory lane if you'd like.  And bring your own chapstick.

The times they are a changin'

I stopped at McDonald's this morning on the way to the office - one last egg mcmuffin before the matzah-fest begins.  As I was pulling away, putting the straw in my drink and rolling up my window (all at the same time,) I was struck by how different a "drive-thru" experience is now than it was when I was a kid.  I'm not that old (yet,) but a few things struck me.

First, remember when you used to have to roll up your window using the hand crank?  They would hand you your food and you would sit there for an extra 10-15 seconds to roll up the window, especially if it was raining.  Then came the automatic windows, where at just the push (and hold) of a button, your window would rise.  Of course, things sometimes went wrong with those - I remember a particular '87 Celica that I owned in high school and college, with a window that would only work when it wanted to and sometimes I'd have to pull it from the top, while holding down the button.  Ah, the memories.  These days, my car is equipped with power windows that operate on a "one-touch" system.  I tap the button once and the window rolls all the way down.  I tap it once again and it rolls all the way up.  No cranking or holding buttons needed.

Let's talk cup holders.  These days, most cars come equipped with 2, and if your lucky, one of them is slightly larger to accommodate today's "Super" sizes.  (Do you really need 42 ounces of Coke?)  I can rememer a time when cars didn't even have cup holders.  You know those nifty sticky pads they sell that you can use to stick your phone or ipod to the dash?  They used to make cup holders that stuck to the dash.  yikes.  Of course, in my little Celica, the cup holders were for gum wrappers and trash, coins, a whistle and whatever other junk I could cram in there, so the odds of getting a cup into it were slim to none.

Ordering has changed too.  These days, when you pull up to McDonalds computer screen, it greets you with a message about what they are featuring and then tells you to "order when ready."  The wall of options rises above you on the right, causing you to crane your neck to see every last possible choice.  You make your picks, tell the computer your order and voila! it appears on the screen.  (Yes, I know there is a person on the other end listening and putting it into the computer.)  They even ask you if it is correct.  Sometimes when the screen is out, I feel strangely alone and adrift in that drive-thru lane.  But remember the good ol' days?  The tiny little speaker box on a metal stand that was constantly getting hit by cars and looked twisted and beaten into submission... the crackling voice coming over the line, of which you only heard every third word... the mix of fear and hope as you spoke your order, hoping that they heard "without" cheese and not "with" cheese and hoping that your order would be correct when you got to the window... and wondering how much it was going to cost, because you couldn't hear the person telling you what the total was. 

And then there's the paying.  It used to be that you dug in your purse (or your cupholders) for change, hoping that once tax was added you had enough pennies to get that extra taco or cheeseburger, the drive-thru operator waiting while you counted out the change and dug in your seat for the last few quarters and dimes. Nowadays, noone even carries cash.  You just whip out your debit card and hope that you'll get a receipt at the next window so that you can remember to write it down in your checkbook.

Oddly enough, I had the somewhat dubious fortune to be on both sides of that drive-thru window.  Having seen (and heard!) some strange things on the other side of the window, I always try to be nice to those working there (not that I wouldn't be anyway,) but I always try not to be dificult, and smile and say "please" and "thank you," even when I'm telling them that I wanted "regular" coke and not "diet" and that "no," I don't need to add on any fries with that, and trust me, I don't need to super size my combo.

These days, technology has made lots of things so much easier and quicker.  Keeping those drive-thru times down means more money for the restaurants, so they want things to move quickly.  (Yes, they time it from the moment your order is entered until the moment the food leaves the window and the person pushes the button to "clear" it.)  But wouldn't it be great if someday, you were able to order it from your phone or the screen in your car?  My car already has a map that tells me where all of the nearest fast food places are.  Why shouldn't I be able to tap the location and pull up the menu and order, and have it waiting when I get there.  (This is not to be confused with online ordering for take-out, which I already use on my smart phone.)   Ah, the good old days, when you used to have to actually cook your own dinner (after going to the store to buy the ingredients) or actually park the car, get out and walk into the restaurant.   Then again, I'm o.k. with the technological way of things.  As long as there isn't a big fast food restaurant war where Taco Bell wins and the government starts controlling my salt intake, I think we'll be o.k.

I Want To Be THAT Kind of Mommy

I am sitting here on this Thursday afternoon, camped out on the couch, laptop... where else, on my lap.  On the other side of the couch, curled up in a little ball, sits Brooklyn - home from school today because she doesn't feel good.  Upstairs in her crib, snoozing the afternoon away, is little Kensi.  Part of me is cringing because I have work to get done.  I have things that need to be finished.  Another part of me is reveling in the ability to sit here, on my couch, in the middle of the afternoon, doing nothing.  (Well, blogging, but otherwise - nothing.)  The laundry basket sits in the middle of the floor, clothes folded, waiting to be hauled upstairs and put away.  Bags from a recent Target trip sit on the kitchen floor, their contents waiting to find a home.  Valentine's Decorations have been taken down and St. Patty's Day decorations wait to be hung.  But here I sit on the couch, content in the knowledge that I can stay here for a few more hours, if I want to.  (That is, until Kensi wakes up and wants to eat)

A few weeks ago, Brooklyn had a dance at her school, for grades K-2, the "Family Dance."  We planned for Daddy to take B, and I would go along with Kensi, just to stay for a little while and take some pictures.  I ended up staying for the whole dance, pushing Kensi around in her stroller (and handing her over to other PTA ladies to get their "fix,") and taking pictures of Brooklyn and her friends dancing and having fun.  (The chocolate fountain was a hit with the boys!)  At the end of the dance, as parents collected coats and kids, I had a flash of memory of things at my elementary school, of parties and peformances and spaghetti dinners.  Somewere tangled up in those memories was a feeling of comfort, of belonging, of things being "right."  The thought that followed that flash of memory was that I wanted to be that parent.  You know, the one who goes to all of the performances and helps in the classroom and seems to be everywhere all at once.  Yes, I want to be that parent.

Why?  Not because I think I am supermom.  Not because I didn't have that growing up (my Mom was homeroom mom for me several years, going on field trips and even painting ceramic ornaments for all of the kid in my 6th grade class - although I will admit that the years she didn't do it, I missed having her there).  But because I enjoy it, and because I think Brooklyn will like having me around for those things and I hope she will appreciate it.  And because, strangely, I like this stuff.  (I've had a few of the other PTA moms give me big "thank you!s" for taking on Book Fair - I just thought it would be fun.  Yes, it's alot of work, but could there be a better place to stick me, than surrounded by books and coming up with crafty things for decorations?)

My inner desire to be the "perfect mom" took over at Valentine's Day too.  Brooklyn was excited for the day, with all of the activities going on at school (her LOVE program - if you haven't seen the footage, check out Rob's YouTube page- and exhanging valentines and the valentine grams going around.)  We didn't have a big "date night" planned for Rob and I and we shared the evening with the girls.  I decided to cook dinner (yes, it happens once in awhile) and while running errands earlier in the day, I picked up a few decorations and balloons.  Kensi helped a little bit (if you can call sitting in her carrier and screaming while we were in the party store "helping") and while she was napping, I decorated.  When Brooklyn came home from school, she wanted to help too, so she mixed up the salad and helped set the table.  (We actually used the dining room.)

When all was said and done, Brooklyn loved the balloons and the decorations and I had fun putting it all together.  She didn't want me to take them down, but since I have to make room for St. Patty's Day, I did.  We're not Irish, but it is such a fun day, I decided the house will be a little "green."  And of course, I think it's what "that" mom would do.

Mental Meanderings

"Last night I had the strangest dream. 
I sailed away to China,
In a little rowboat to find you,
And you said you had to get your laundry clean.
Didn't want no one to find you,
What does that mean?"

So it wasn't last night, but a few nights ago - I had an odd dream.  I dreamt that Brooklyn packed her own lunch and was so proud of herself.  I opened it to check it out and she had made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and it was oozing PB&J all over the place.  And it looked like instead of bread, she had used 2 huge pancakes.  Funny stuff.  Then I moved the PB&J aside to see what else she had put in her lunchbox and started pulling out carrots.  And more carrots.  And more carrots.  I'm not sure why, but pretty much all that was in there was PB&J and carrots.  In my dream, I got upset with her. Not too upset, but definitely not happy that she had done it all herself.

As I try to interpret this odd one, I come to 2 possible scenarios.  One is that I'm such a type-A personality, that I can't handle the idea of Brooklyn packing her own lunch (read: growing up and doing things for herself) for fear that it won't be done correctly and that she'll make a mistake.  (Yes, I know, I need to just relax and let go - if she ties her shoes herself and trips on the laces, she will learn.)  The second scenario is that I'm worried that she's not getting enough good stuff to eat, that because she pretty much only eats PB&J with the occasional carrot, that she is missing out on something.  But if the doctor isn't concerned, I guess I shouldn't be.

One more comment on my previous post about growing up and finding something to do.  I had my iTunes on random as I was sending out emails and catching up on things this morning, and I heard a song I haven't heard in awhile.  The lyrics caught my attention:

I'll probably never hold the brush that paints a masterpiece,
I'll probably never find the pen that writes a symphony.
But if I were loved then I would find,
That I have touched another life,
and that's something worth leaving behind.

I thought that pretty much covered things.  I might not succeed at all that I want to, but I suppose in the end, if B and Kensi grow up happy and healthy and love me (of course they do!), then it is all good.  But I'm still going to try and write the next great American Novel and maybe someday someone will make it into a screenplay.  A girl can hope, right?

Moving on.  Basketball.  FUN-DA-MEN-TALS.  Seriously.  What am I talking about, you ask?  I went to the Laker game on Tuesday night.  And I got so frustrated.  Yes, they won.  I'd almost forgotten what the confetti raining down at the end looked like, given their recent loss to the Celtics and a few other trouncings they've taken.  So they pulled it out.  But really, it wasn't pretty.  In a game that is pretty much defined by the superstars and their "run and gun" mentality, I think the team would be better served by spending a few more HOURS in practice working on the fundamentals.  Boxing out.  Squaring to the basket.  Get your feet set.  To all of my fellow high school and college athletes out there, remember the "KISS" principle?  ("Keep It Simple Stupid.") 

For those of you who played hoops for Mr. Root in 8th grade (I think he only coached girls teams, but I could be wrong) - he used to have something he called "one dribble nowhere."  A ball would be passed to you and the first thing you did was dribble it and pick it up.  What then?  You're stuck.  You either have to pass the ball and if no one is open, you have to shoot.  You've taken away your ability to move.  I was in the 8th grade and I learned to square up to the basket as soon as I caught the pass (yes, Pau Gasol, you have to CATCH THE BALL FIRST!) and NOT dribble it until I had an idea of where I was going.  I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to watch guys get paid to play the game and screw it up so bad.  (Ok, I get it - if they are getting paid to play, they must be doing something right.)  Sure, but Gasol dropped 2 passes in a row at the low post spot, both resulting in turnovers that turned into baskets for the other team at the end of regulation, that resulted in Houston tying the game, that then forced overtime.  And I lost count of how many times he caught the ball with his back to the basket and immediately put the dumb thing on the ground and started to dribble, going NOWHERE.  (Let alone the fact that he can't seem to dribble the ball without looking at it or his feet.)  ARGH!

And then there's boxing out.  Anyone who remembers high school ball remembers endless hours spent on boxing out drills.  Well, at least Coach Holmes did that to us.  I think I even relived the horror for 2 seasons in college.  Ball goes up, everyone boxes out.  Apparently not in the pros.  Apparently in the pros, if you are on offense and your teammate shoots the ball, you immediately break for the other side, assuming (I guess) that the shot will be going in.  Really?  During the Lakers-Celtics game on Sunday, they displayed a stat in the middle of the third quarter (it might have even been the 4th quarter) - the stat was something about second shot points or something like that.  For the Lakers - 13.  For the Celtics, 17.  Basically, that translates to offensive rebounds and meant that neither team was really rebounding - that or both teams were putting in their shots on the first attempt.  Either way, nobody was bothering to rebound.

I guess in the grand scheme of things, it is all about the show and the performance.  You can't really give a good performance for the fans if you are worried about things like fundamentals.  So I'll just have to grin and bear it when I go to the games and enjoy the spectacle of it all.  But I don't have to like Pau Gasol. Nope, sorry, you can't make me.  And I will make sure that when B gets older, she will learn how to box out and square to the basket and she won't be taking "one dribble nowhere."

Enough of my mental ramblings for now.  I have a date with my mixer and need to get some cookies going for the big game party on Sunday.  I might even make some M&M cookies just for fun.  Have a great weekend everyone!