party all the time

Food. On a stick.

by mayberry on March 28, 2012

In case you haven’t had it marked on your calendar since last March, today is Food on a Stick Day! We hosted a skewer-filled dinner party (for 16 people, omg) on Saturday to observe this important occasion. We supplied the main course, beverages, tables and most of the chairs, and the guests brought everything else. Here’s the menu (sorry about my poor food styling and photography skills):

Appetizers (aka the toothpick course)

Moroccan-spiced lamb meatballs (delicious dipping sauce not shown)

Goat cheese-jalapeno hush puppies (and that dipping sauce meant for the meatballs)

Curry-crab hush puppies and toothpick-ready shrimp

Salad (aka the prettiest course)

Stack o' skewered salads

Single skewered salad

Main dishes (aka the kebab course)

Pork with peanut sauce and honey-glazed chicken

Spicy Asian steak with portabellas and cherry tomatoes

Side dishes (aka the use-your-imagination course)
No pictures, but we had red potato chunks stacked on a skewer and asparagus (no stick required). Each spear was individually wrapped in pastry in a lattice pattern with a bit of prosciutto. Beautiful and delicious.

Dessert (aka the cake-pop-free course)

Strawberries and brownies on a stick, served with whipped cream and a candied hazelnut

Also for dessert, fondue complete with marshmallows and crushed graham crackers for MYO-s’mores-on-a-stick.

We still ended up with quite a few forks to wash, but it was totally worth it.

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Birthday babies

by mayberry on April 4, 2011

People never cease to be amazed, or at least interested, in my children’s back-to-back birthdays. I think it’s cool, too–except, most years, the week when it’s actually happening. Then, it’s too much at one time (especially the year we had one birthday party on Saturday and one on Sunday). The to-do list grows and grows, and I worry that neither birthday gets the attention it deserves.

Then again, these two have never really known different. I think they enjoy those “oh wow!” responses too. They, knock wood, are pretty good at sharing, and that goes for special days too.

(And here’s one showing how it all began.)

(Look at that! His hair hasn’t changed in six years.)

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Something blue

by mayberry on September 8, 2010

Twelve hours before we were due to leave for my sister’s wedding, as I was packing like a crazy person, Opie desperately needed to put on his ninja Halloween costume (foreshadowing of things to come at the rehearsal dinner, apparently; see left), which was somewhere in the depths of the dress-up box in the basement playroom, where he refuses to go unaccompanied. So I grudgingly took him down there, and soon realized that something was amiss. Something was, in fact, really smelly. Opie confessed to having spilled something or other on the area rug recently, but I soon realized the entire 5′x7′ rug was soaking wet. As were the two beanbag chairs sitting on it, and the fabric-covered storage bin nearby. Oh, and look, way over here! A giant puddle on the linoleum! I started mopping, and sopping water up with towels, and cranking up the dehumidifier, and actually, I was pretty glad about the ninja costume because at least we found the leak before we left town for eight days, and not after.

The next morning, we got up before 5 a.m. to go to the airport, where we then sat until after the far more civilized hour of 9 a.m. In the end, after lengthy sojourns in both Minneapolis and Salt Lake City, we arrived in California more than 12 hours late after 22 hours of travel (and only one tantrum, in the hotel room at 2 a.m. when Opie felt completely persecuted by our refusal to let him watch a little TV before bed. “Just one show!” he wailed).

But the wedding–the whole vacation, really–was totally worth it. My sister lives in Pennsylvania but spent most of high school and college in northern California, so she wanted to be married there. The ceremony was held on the side of a mountain in California, with pine trees and a stone patio and an incredible view.

The view

We stayed in a small inn nearby, where we–the wedding party, family, and other attendees–were the only guests. I loved being able to spend a few days with normally far-flung family members (my own, and my sister’s new in-laws too. Jo was completely taken with the groom’s 11-year-niece–I mean, how cool is an 11-year-old when you are 8!). The inn had a lounge/game room on the ground floor, with a huge Rock Band/kararoke set-up, another Wii, pool, ping-pong, air hockey, and a poker table. So fun!

Jo and I spent most of the day of the wedding getting purty, while Opie entertained the groomsmen with his best joke: What’s the difference between roast beef and pea soup? Anyone can roast beef, but no one can pee soup (thanks iCarly!). Here we are all dolled up.

With bonus EAR

Doesn’t she look amazing?!

Minutes after these pictures were taken, at the inn, we went to the ceremony site. There Opie proceeded, accidentally, to FLING the wedding rings right off his little ringbearer’s pillow–at the exact moment that my sister’s car pulled up. So basically I greeted her at her own wedding with the words “WE LOST THE RINGS!!” Thankfully, we were inside a small tent when this happened, so at least the rings did not go flying off the side of a cliff or out into the wilderness. My cooler-headed brother recovered them quickly from the corner of the tent.

After that, the hitching proceeded without a hitch and so did the party. Jo and I danced until the DJ packed up at midnight. “Party in the USA,” indeed! Congratulations Susan and Andrew. Happy almost 1-month anniversary!

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Communique from Kid Agent 004

by mayberry on March 3, 2010

Kids of the World:

The information I am about to reveal may shock you. It may amaze you and anger you. It may, in fact, confirm your own suspicions.

Through careful observation, sophisticated information-gathering technology, and top-secret intelligence techniques, I have answered the question that children have been asking for generations.

What happens after kids go to bed? There’s a reason we are being held prisoner in our bedrooms, isn’t there? I know there is.

Kids of the world, I must answer with an emphatic yes. My investigation has revealed the following practices by our parents:

Consumption of contraband foods, including but not limited to desserts and candy, multiple servings thereof; chips; French fries; and other so-called “not good for you” items (In fact, “not good for kids” seems to be code for “just fine for adults especially in large quantities.”)
Consumption of contraband beverages (including a substance that looks remarkably like grape juice but most certainly doesn’t taste like it)
Consumption of said items while sitting on the good furniture
Watching of television, including entire movies
“Working” on the computer (alleged)
Use of the so-called “work” telephone for game-playing
Telephone conversations which we children have no ability to intercept or interrupt
Bathroom visits which we children have no ability to intercept or interrupt

Kids of the world, I urge you to conduct your own investigations into these sinister practices. Share your results using the UnderPlayGround Network. Plans to defeat these unfair bedtime restrictions are underway. Stay tuned for further instruction.

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Sunday

by mayberry on January 11, 2010

The kids played together all day. Like 12 straight hours, except for about one hour when the shorter one was at Sunday school. All it cost me was about three entire spools of ribbon from my wrapping paper stash (to “decorate,” aka “booby trap like a laser security system,” the family room for a party honoring a stuffed animal). And only one child ended up with a potentially disfiguring injury to the face!

The victim refused to be photographed, but the CSI agents known as “mom” and “dad” were quickly able to deduce that this victim (the aforementioned Sunday school student) was, to use the technical term, asking for it. Hugs and ointment were administered and the party continued. Better yet, the revelers actually helped clean up the festivities before bed.

Not a bad Sunday.

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Rocks of all ages

by mayberry on October 12, 2009

Arrival

Big diggers, little diggers

He scoops, he pours

Beep …. beep … beep … backing up the 27-ton pickup

Oh yes, we went there

Just your average day at the local quarry, really.

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Belated, but one of the best ever

by mayberry on July 20, 2009

The occasion: My birthday, and that of a friend.

The event: A dinner party in our honor, with four other friends as guests, and our two husbands as chefs/hosts.

The menu:

Cold hors d’oeuvres — goat cheese balls with roasted walnuts, crostini with olive tapenade or artichokes and parmesan, fresh gazpacho
Hot hors d’oeuvres — scallops with paprika, grilled shrimp, tortilla espanola, chorizo
Roast turkey breast with truffle oil
Grilled vegetables prepared in a citrus bath
Green beans with orange zest and sesame
Saffron rice
Dessert — raspberry sorbet, mint ice cream, and ginger ice cream with berries and cookies
Beverages — red sangria, white sangria, berry bellinis, fruit-infused water (strawberry/rhubarb and lemon/blueberry)

My friend K. and I hatched this plan a few weeks ago and boy did it ever succeed. We were talking about how all she wanted for her birthday was a really nice meal that she didn’t have to prepare herself. We moved into talking about how I would love to entertain more, but my husband gets super-anxious about having things just so when people come over. Somehow these two came together into an idea to have the two guys work together on a dinner party for us. I pretended I knew nothing about this while E. (K.’s husband) emailed my husband to propose such an event. And then it all came together in my backyard last night. I sat on a chair for about five straight hours eating and drinking and chatting and can you think of a better birthday present?!

Cherry on top: The kids stayed at E.’s house with K.’s parents and when I picked them up, K.’s mom said “These two children have some of the best manners I have ever seen!” I’m sure she was just being nice but I will take that compliment ANY TIME.

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Nora and the Gruffalo Twins

by mayberry on May 25, 2009

Didja see these two cuties? Nonlinear Nora had twins, a boy and a girl, last Friday, and Mo-Wo is throwing a babies’ shower. (So what if the babies are already here. We like to flout convention here in the blogosphere.) Our gift to Nora: a list of picture books for her growing family and its growing library.

I love to give books as baby presents. No worries about size or decor or duplication; if they have it already it’s easy to regift or donate. If the baby in question has an older sibling, get a board book and a big-kid picture book and everyone’s happy. My must-gives include Where the Sidewalk Ends, the Little Pea/Little Hoot combo by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, and anything and everything by Peggy Rathmann (Gloria is a dead ringer for our own dog).

For Nora’s new little pair, today I offer the talented author/illustrator duo of Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler, starting with The Gruffalo and The Gruffalo’s Child. The rhymes and illustrations work together brilliantly in these two very funny books about a clever mouse who outwits a much bigger adversary. Another title by these two that I adore is Room on the Broom, in which a temporarily wandless witch is saved from an unpleasant end by a motley pack of companion animals.

As Mo-Wo says, Nora, “our hearts are filled with gladness for you all”–gruffaloes, mice, babies and all.

(P.S. Speaking of mice, I trust you already have a copy of Noisy Nora, one of the best sibling jealousy books ever?)

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Gossip girl’s birthday party roundup

by mayberry on April 7, 2009

If you don’t like gossip, you can skip this one (I’ll probably delete it in a few days). If you’re in more of a Dorothy Parker mood and would like to sit by someone who doesn’t have anything nice to say, stick around.

We had both kids’ birthday parties this weekend, one Saturday at home and one Sunday at a roller rink. Saturday I had to clean up vomit (canine) before the party. Sunday I had to clean up crap (human) before the party. I’m glad we didn’t have a party on Monday because I wasn’t interested in mopping up any blood.

Since Opie wanted to have his party at home, we kept the guest list small–a bunch of his friends from child care plus a few neighbors. The response was abysmal. Out of nine kids, only one showed, and only three others actually sent regrets. At the last minute I invited some other neighbors, a family of four kids–thank God, because they made up pretty much the entire party.

Luckily, Opie didn’t seem to care. His best buddy from school was there (and his parents did some heroic schedule-shifting to make that possible). He had a Superman cake and a Superman pinata and everyone got to wear a cape.

Jo’s party was the opposite. Her guest list kept growing as she begged to invite “just one more” kid from her class. And all except one replied in the affirmative. Which, fine. The roller rink was a dirt-cheap venue: $5/kid. (The place clearly has changed neither its decor, or its music selections, or its prices since 1985.)

(Here’s where the gossip comes in.) A few days before the party one of her friend’s moms, who I know, called because she was having transportation issues. We eventually worked out that the child’s cousin would bring her to our house, then we’d take her to the party; another friend would take her home. Easy.

Then another mom calls–someone I don’t know at all. And she gives me chapter and verse on her recent hysterectomy/gallbladder surgery/”total abdominal reconstruction” and how she can’t drive and is there any way I could … ? So I say yes, of course, we can pick up your daughter and take her to the party and bring her home.

I’m glad she asked for help and I was glad we could offer it. I really didn’t need so many details. But it got better. An hour before the party–when I was cleaning up the aforementioned crap, which happened to land on the one small patch of white carpeting we have in our house–Hysterectomy Mom calls back. This time she wants to know if her son can tag along. She’ll pay for him, he can just skate, etc. Once again I get a whole saga of a bad night’s sleep, Xanax didn’t help, yadda yadda. I quickly calculate whether we can fit all of these kids in our station wagon and determine that we can. So I promise to pick up the birthday guest and the brother in half an hour.

We pile into the car and I am wedged into the front passenger seat with a huge box filled with goody bags and party favors. I can’t move at all. We get to the kids’ house and I make Jeff get out to say hello to the kids and the mom. She comes out in her pajamas and proceeds to pull from her pants pockets:

two drainage pouches filled with pus.

Like we needed proof that she had had this surgery. Good gravy. Really, how do you respond to such a thing? We backed out of the driveway as quickly as we possibly could. I think she was still talking about how many cc’s of fluid she needed to allow to drain before she could have the tubes removed.

At the end of the party, some other mom volunteered to take those two kids home.

We said yes.

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