Amid all the dog toys, raw hides and pet fur that encases my home in a constant state of an allergies worst nightmare lies a rather terrible affliction. One that, in all my years of having puppies, I would have never seen coming.
Licking. That's right, licking. They lick errrrreything. The walls, dishwasher, cabinets, bathroom floor, people, the couches and the worst of them all....our coffee tables. It wouldn't be so terrible if our tables weren't glass or if they licked the walls where I couldn't see them. Both Henry and Hannah have extremely long tongues so to see them sit there and lick things like that.....well, frankly they look like they're both on a bad lsd trip, or a good one?
In fact, as I'm typing this, the glass coffee table that took me fifteen minutes and a half a bottle of Windex is being licked from top to bottom. Just one long tongue mark from one end to the other. Great, now I have to clean it again.
I haven't showered alone in weeks. If I leave the door shut, it sounds like they're clawing for dear life because a serial killer is about to behead them and the only safe place is with me in the bathroom. I can't decide if I find it cute or annoying.
"Oh hey Mom, I see you're in the shower. We should probably poke our heads in and lick the tub to make sure it's safe for you. Well, I'll lick one side, Hannah will poke her head in the other side to lick the faucet and let all the hot air out that you've accumulated. You know, you look pretty lonely in there, why don't I jump in there with you and lick your legs? It will be character building and quality time even though I hate being in the shower. You just really look like you need some company in here."
I guess the only good thing about that is that even though I consider them my babies....they don't have thumbs so they could never actually let themselves in like a real child. Hmm....
Xoxo
Riley Writes
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Anything but laundry...
Gone are the days where I would trade my sister in a heartbeat for chores. I was the oldest so that automatically meant, hand washing dishes because I was the dishwasher, cleaning the kitchen and doing the laundry rotation from washer, to dryer to couch where my sister "folded" them and put them away. I longed for the days where she would be stupid enough to switch with me. Just so I could fold laundry and clean the living room instead of cleaning up the giant mess she made the night before when she made dinner.
Let me explain my sister's way of making dinner. "Oh the recipe only calls for two pans....better use five just in case. I see that we will be using raw meat. I should get seven different spatulas so I can use a different one every time to reduce the risk of infection by airborne pathogens of the raw beef/chicken persuasion so we don't all get West Nile and die. Five people will be eating? Better have out enough dishes for everyone to have at least two plates so none of the sides touch. That's better. Oh, you just cleaned the kitchen? Sorry about all the dishes from one meal. But look at the bright side, you get to do the same thing again tomorrow!"
Don't believe me? Call my mom. She didn't believe me either until I moved out. Never has an apology sounded sweeter.
Today, I'm sitting on the couch staring at the mountainous pile of laundry that hasn't been folded. Thinking about the laundry in the laundry room that needs to be put in the washer and wondering if I really need to put the clothes that are in the dryer back into the washer because our dryer doesn't dry completely on the first round which I seem to forget on a regular basis. So the clothes in the dryer smell bad. By bad, I mean they don't smell like a Mountain Breeze or Lavender and Honeysuckle....they smell like....well, wet nasty laundry. When I remember to turn on the dryer two or three more times (doesn't matter what size the load is, it still takes forever), it's generally around bed time so by the time I wake up in the morning and kick myself, they already smell terrible.
I would rather scrub a toilet and clean a nasty bathroom than fold laundry. I'd rather give the dogs who have rolled in something dead, a bath before I would chose to fold laundry. I would take hot smelly trash out before folding the gigantic pile of laundry that takes up my loveseat.
"But Rachele, why don't you fold the laundry as you pull it out of the dryer? It makes things so much easier!"
False. No it doesn't. I hate it.
"Okay, I get it....but why would you rather take out trash or wash a mountain of dishes by hand?"
As soon as you wash dishes, it's done and over with. Same as taking out the trash. Folding clothes is taking them out of the dryer, folding, separating, finding a place to put all of your clothes, putting them away and then starting all over again with the next load. It's time consuming and a thankless job because even if you fold them, they still get wrinkly.
The next time you visit and don't see any laundry on the designated Laundry Love Seat, just know it's in my room on the bed unfolded.
Xoxo,
Riley Writes
Let me explain my sister's way of making dinner. "Oh the recipe only calls for two pans....better use five just in case. I see that we will be using raw meat. I should get seven different spatulas so I can use a different one every time to reduce the risk of infection by airborne pathogens of the raw beef/chicken persuasion so we don't all get West Nile and die. Five people will be eating? Better have out enough dishes for everyone to have at least two plates so none of the sides touch. That's better. Oh, you just cleaned the kitchen? Sorry about all the dishes from one meal. But look at the bright side, you get to do the same thing again tomorrow!"
Don't believe me? Call my mom. She didn't believe me either until I moved out. Never has an apology sounded sweeter.
Today, I'm sitting on the couch staring at the mountainous pile of laundry that hasn't been folded. Thinking about the laundry in the laundry room that needs to be put in the washer and wondering if I really need to put the clothes that are in the dryer back into the washer because our dryer doesn't dry completely on the first round which I seem to forget on a regular basis. So the clothes in the dryer smell bad. By bad, I mean they don't smell like a Mountain Breeze or Lavender and Honeysuckle....they smell like....well, wet nasty laundry. When I remember to turn on the dryer two or three more times (doesn't matter what size the load is, it still takes forever), it's generally around bed time so by the time I wake up in the morning and kick myself, they already smell terrible.
I would rather scrub a toilet and clean a nasty bathroom than fold laundry. I'd rather give the dogs who have rolled in something dead, a bath before I would chose to fold laundry. I would take hot smelly trash out before folding the gigantic pile of laundry that takes up my loveseat.
"But Rachele, why don't you fold the laundry as you pull it out of the dryer? It makes things so much easier!"
False. No it doesn't. I hate it.
"Okay, I get it....but why would you rather take out trash or wash a mountain of dishes by hand?"
As soon as you wash dishes, it's done and over with. Same as taking out the trash. Folding clothes is taking them out of the dryer, folding, separating, finding a place to put all of your clothes, putting them away and then starting all over again with the next load. It's time consuming and a thankless job because even if you fold them, they still get wrinkly.
The next time you visit and don't see any laundry on the designated Laundry Love Seat, just know it's in my room on the bed unfolded.
Xoxo,
Riley Writes
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Henry & Hannah Antics
Oh Henry. Oh Hannah.
If you haven't read the "What a Messy House" post or you don't know me, then you wouldn't know that I have two fur children that I cherish and like a lot better than most people. To me, they are exactly like my children. I feed them, I bathe them, I love them and teach them things like fetch, "Go Tell Daddy", sit, stay and "Get Me a Beer." (The last has been rather unsuccessful) I love their individual personalities that shine through and the fact that they hate being without one another. I also put them in time out from time to time when I either need a break, or they've been bad. Which is why they're in timeout right now. Generally they don't know they've been bad because their dogs. They just think it's nap time or we're leaving the house.
Today, my darling little 6 month old Hannah was stalking a fly on the wall. They both do this quite often so it's not something I'm unused to. Henry is notorious for trying to catch flies at the sliding glass door. Many an afternoon I have spent watching him run head first into the slider, worried it was going to shatter with the force he was running into it at. So like I said, nothing I'm not used to.
I was watching Hannah as her cute little head went back and forth following the fly and it's flight pattern. The fly then sealed his own fate by landing on the wall. In the blink of an eye, she jumped at least a foot and a half off the ground and the fly disappeared. I was unsure if she had caught it but her refusal to let me open her mouth said it all. I watched her prance proudly around the house, excited and happy at her latest catch. Then, she spit it onto the floor and in an instant, Henry bent down to eat it.
Within seconds after that event, I saw one more fly disappear at the paws of my sweet little Hannah. Again, she wouldn't let me open her mouth and ran to her favorite hiding spot where she chews/eats things she isn't supposed to. Henry tried a few times but he isn't as fast and agile as our spastic little lady. Not that he hasn't caught any, on the contrary, he's caught quite a few. He just prefers a different method.
Today has been different as it has been a lot of thunder and lightening with a side of torrential downpour. The pups were going absolutely bonkers so I decided to put them in their safe place for a while, just until the roaring stopped. Hannah does this thing where she jumps up and down all crazy at the slider and a few times, has locked me out of the house. Luckily, Zach has always been home so I don't have to go around to the front door....but that option is always there. She also occasionally jumps up and down at the front door if one of us goes outside. Today, Hannah went a little crazy and was jumping and barking at the thunder and lightening at the back door, like she always does and she locked it....like she always does. I didn't actually think anything of it because it's so frequent.
Do do do do dooo, I'm cleaning out the fridge and filling up the trash with all sorts of unsavory leftovers of meals past. La la la la laaaa, time to take the trash out even though it's pouring down raaaaain! I load up the trash, put my cute little polka dotted rainboots on and make my way to the carport. It's a process that takes about 15-30 seconds and all the while, I can hear Hannah inside, barking and jumping up and down.
That's when the unthinkable happens.
I walk back to the door in my white tank top without a bra on (because I can do that when I don't leave the house), my adorable little sweats that are tucked into my rain boots (hearing my attire is necessary for you to understand the following events) annnnnd the door is locked. Hannah, in her jumping frenzy, hit the lock button on the door knob. Seriously. I couldn't make this up.
After about 15 minutes of enlisting my neighbor for help to open some windows that were all locked (which makes me feel safe I suppose), I ran over to another neighbors and called my husband who didn't answer his phone. Luckily for me, he called them back and said I could go to the squadron to get his key. He tells my neighbor to call him when we get there so I don't have to come inside.
Of course, you know the call didn't go through. I had to walk into the squadron and wouldn't you know it, there were about ten people up front hanging out, you know, to see me in all my soaked pajama/rain boots /wet stringy haired glory. I could see the disbelief in everyone's eyes when I told them what had happened. Lucky for me, one lady was kind enough to escort me to Zach's office (because I didn't have an identification to prove who I was and I generally don't need my ID to take the trash out.).
I must say, I was pretty impressed that the world hadn't collapsed, there were no pee spots and not a single item was chewed up by the time I got home. They were so very happy to see me, it made me giggle.
Just a day in the life eh?
Xoxo
Riley Writes
If you haven't read the "What a Messy House" post or you don't know me, then you wouldn't know that I have two fur children that I cherish and like a lot better than most people. To me, they are exactly like my children. I feed them, I bathe them, I love them and teach them things like fetch, "Go Tell Daddy", sit, stay and "Get Me a Beer." (The last has been rather unsuccessful) I love their individual personalities that shine through and the fact that they hate being without one another. I also put them in time out from time to time when I either need a break, or they've been bad. Which is why they're in timeout right now. Generally they don't know they've been bad because their dogs. They just think it's nap time or we're leaving the house.
Today, my darling little 6 month old Hannah was stalking a fly on the wall. They both do this quite often so it's not something I'm unused to. Henry is notorious for trying to catch flies at the sliding glass door. Many an afternoon I have spent watching him run head first into the slider, worried it was going to shatter with the force he was running into it at. So like I said, nothing I'm not used to.
I was watching Hannah as her cute little head went back and forth following the fly and it's flight pattern. The fly then sealed his own fate by landing on the wall. In the blink of an eye, she jumped at least a foot and a half off the ground and the fly disappeared. I was unsure if she had caught it but her refusal to let me open her mouth said it all. I watched her prance proudly around the house, excited and happy at her latest catch. Then, she spit it onto the floor and in an instant, Henry bent down to eat it.
Within seconds after that event, I saw one more fly disappear at the paws of my sweet little Hannah. Again, she wouldn't let me open her mouth and ran to her favorite hiding spot where she chews/eats things she isn't supposed to. Henry tried a few times but he isn't as fast and agile as our spastic little lady. Not that he hasn't caught any, on the contrary, he's caught quite a few. He just prefers a different method.
Today has been different as it has been a lot of thunder and lightening with a side of torrential downpour. The pups were going absolutely bonkers so I decided to put them in their safe place for a while, just until the roaring stopped. Hannah does this thing where she jumps up and down all crazy at the slider and a few times, has locked me out of the house. Luckily, Zach has always been home so I don't have to go around to the front door....but that option is always there. She also occasionally jumps up and down at the front door if one of us goes outside. Today, Hannah went a little crazy and was jumping and barking at the thunder and lightening at the back door, like she always does and she locked it....like she always does. I didn't actually think anything of it because it's so frequent.
Do do do do dooo, I'm cleaning out the fridge and filling up the trash with all sorts of unsavory leftovers of meals past. La la la la laaaa, time to take the trash out even though it's pouring down raaaaain! I load up the trash, put my cute little polka dotted rainboots on and make my way to the carport. It's a process that takes about 15-30 seconds and all the while, I can hear Hannah inside, barking and jumping up and down.
That's when the unthinkable happens.
I walk back to the door in my white tank top without a bra on (because I can do that when I don't leave the house), my adorable little sweats that are tucked into my rain boots (hearing my attire is necessary for you to understand the following events) annnnnd the door is locked. Hannah, in her jumping frenzy, hit the lock button on the door knob. Seriously. I couldn't make this up.
After about 15 minutes of enlisting my neighbor for help to open some windows that were all locked (which makes me feel safe I suppose), I ran over to another neighbors and called my husband who didn't answer his phone. Luckily for me, he called them back and said I could go to the squadron to get his key. He tells my neighbor to call him when we get there so I don't have to come inside.
Of course, you know the call didn't go through. I had to walk into the squadron and wouldn't you know it, there were about ten people up front hanging out, you know, to see me in all my soaked pajama/rain boots /wet stringy haired glory. I could see the disbelief in everyone's eyes when I told them what had happened. Lucky for me, one lady was kind enough to escort me to Zach's office (because I didn't have an identification to prove who I was and I generally don't need my ID to take the trash out.).
I must say, I was pretty impressed that the world hadn't collapsed, there were no pee spots and not a single item was chewed up by the time I got home. They were so very happy to see me, it made me giggle.
Just a day in the life eh?
Xoxo
Riley Writes
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
I'm one of "those" people
I sound like a broken record, I get it. I have never considered myself to have an obsessive personality unless we're talking about Pinterest, seashells and new tv shows that I discover.
Until now. Now I have discovered Crossfit.
I didn't realize (I kinda did but until this evening, I didn't realize the degree) how much I LOVE Crossfit. I have tried plenty of other workouts, paid for a personal trainer, did classes, dvds, Tae Bo, P90x, Zumba and a whole slew of other workouts. I couldn't find an interest in any of them. I'm not saying they don't work, they just don't work for me. I couldn't find the motivation I needed to keep myself going and I couldn't seem to find the "burn" or results I wanted either. Until recently, that is.
I love the fact that Crossfit keeps me constantly evolving into a better, fitter person. At first, I was only concerned with losing weight. I am currently at my heaviest now and even though it kills me to say it, I'm no longer the young and wild one I used to be. I can no longer eat anything I want, stay up all night, or live the lifestyle I used to without consequences. Nor do I want to. Who wants to stay up til 5 a.m hitting up Whataburger on the way home because you just worked an 11 hour shift with no actual break other than taking longer in the restroom than you really needed to? Not this girl. Scarfing down your food because you need to finish it before the next customer comes to sit at the bar? No thanks.
One of my favorite Crossfit quotes is "I welcome you to the community of people who have decided that easy will no longer suffice - RIP". It really is that simple. You finally reach a point where you're tired of being sick and tired. For me, it was not liking what I saw in the mirror every single day. I felt frumpy, gross and definitely not beach ready, especially at the heaviest I have ever been. Not exercising, eating pizza and drinking beer had taken it's toll. It wasn't until Zach kept asking and asking and asking if I would like to go with him, did I finally realize enough is enough. I guess I resisted so long because I didn't want to go and feel like I did any of the other times I have ever tried a new workout regiment. It's frustrating to go to the gym, feel like you work your ass off and not feel any different. Even for any amount of time.
With Crossfit, I started feeling changed almost immediately. I felt better about myself, I had more energy and I was't the slightest bit embarrassed to be using a pvc pipe with all the other bad-asses that were lifted 200+. Crossfit is about evolving and making yourself be a better you. It's about helping others better themselves. It's about inner and outer strength, showing your courage to make the leap and trying to do something different to better your life. I'm changing and using muscles I wasn't even aware I had. It's an amazing feeling because I have progressed more in two months than I have my whole life.
I used to be concerned with the numbers on the scale because it was more than I have ever seen and it didn't feel very good. However, now I find myself becoming less and less concerned with the numbers on the scale and caring more about the amount of weight I'm putting on my bar. It's given me a new found air of confidence that I have never had (even though I have always been a pretty confident person :D). Although the number on the scale has stayed the same, I can see myself getting more toned and muscular. (Did you buy your tickets to the BB gun show? ;) ) It makes me want to do things that I have never done before and set goals I would have never even imagined. I.E. When I leave Guam, I'm hoping Zach and I will do the Tough Mudder together. It's intense but I think it's a great goal to have and to say "Oh yeah, I did that once." I wouldn't mind being able to go to the Crossfit Open eventually and if that went well, hell, bring on the Crossfit Games.
Working out with Zach has been pretty amazing too. Not only is he my best friend and husband, he's also pretty good at motivating. He says things like "Babe you got this," or "Seriously? Is that all you got?" I respond better to motivating me by saying things like "My grandma can lift more than that." We enjoy doing this together and I know it gives him a small boost to know his wife is over there all lifting weights and being bad ass. It gives me a massive amount of pride to see Zach outdo all of the young bucks that waltz in there. I'm like all "Oh yeah, that's my husband. He's basically a bad ass and he's awesome. No big deal." We don't wear our rings to the gym so he's fair game to hit on as well. He always says he has a girlfriend but I don't think that's true because we always leave together :)
A few other reasons (last ones, I promise) that I love going to Crossfit so much is that it's never the same workout. You're always doing something different and the workout is always posted on the Crossfit website. Sure, it looks EXTREMELY intimidating but there are always scaled workouts for different skill levels. Some days I can do a higher skill level, others, I'm still hanging out with the "puppies" with my cute pvc pipe I may just Bedazzle. At any rate, I love it and it makes me happy.
So, while your done reading all of my pro-Crossfit propaganda, go check out the website, do a little reading and form your own opinions.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
Until now. Now I have discovered Crossfit.
I didn't realize (I kinda did but until this evening, I didn't realize the degree) how much I LOVE Crossfit. I have tried plenty of other workouts, paid for a personal trainer, did classes, dvds, Tae Bo, P90x, Zumba and a whole slew of other workouts. I couldn't find an interest in any of them. I'm not saying they don't work, they just don't work for me. I couldn't find the motivation I needed to keep myself going and I couldn't seem to find the "burn" or results I wanted either. Until recently, that is.
I love the fact that Crossfit keeps me constantly evolving into a better, fitter person. At first, I was only concerned with losing weight. I am currently at my heaviest now and even though it kills me to say it, I'm no longer the young and wild one I used to be. I can no longer eat anything I want, stay up all night, or live the lifestyle I used to without consequences. Nor do I want to. Who wants to stay up til 5 a.m hitting up Whataburger on the way home because you just worked an 11 hour shift with no actual break other than taking longer in the restroom than you really needed to? Not this girl. Scarfing down your food because you need to finish it before the next customer comes to sit at the bar? No thanks.
One of my favorite Crossfit quotes is "I welcome you to the community of people who have decided that easy will no longer suffice - RIP". It really is that simple. You finally reach a point where you're tired of being sick and tired. For me, it was not liking what I saw in the mirror every single day. I felt frumpy, gross and definitely not beach ready, especially at the heaviest I have ever been. Not exercising, eating pizza and drinking beer had taken it's toll. It wasn't until Zach kept asking and asking and asking if I would like to go with him, did I finally realize enough is enough. I guess I resisted so long because I didn't want to go and feel like I did any of the other times I have ever tried a new workout regiment. It's frustrating to go to the gym, feel like you work your ass off and not feel any different. Even for any amount of time.
With Crossfit, I started feeling changed almost immediately. I felt better about myself, I had more energy and I was't the slightest bit embarrassed to be using a pvc pipe with all the other bad-asses that were lifted 200+. Crossfit is about evolving and making yourself be a better you. It's about helping others better themselves. It's about inner and outer strength, showing your courage to make the leap and trying to do something different to better your life. I'm changing and using muscles I wasn't even aware I had. It's an amazing feeling because I have progressed more in two months than I have my whole life.
I used to be concerned with the numbers on the scale because it was more than I have ever seen and it didn't feel very good. However, now I find myself becoming less and less concerned with the numbers on the scale and caring more about the amount of weight I'm putting on my bar. It's given me a new found air of confidence that I have never had (even though I have always been a pretty confident person :D). Although the number on the scale has stayed the same, I can see myself getting more toned and muscular. (Did you buy your tickets to the BB gun show? ;) ) It makes me want to do things that I have never done before and set goals I would have never even imagined. I.E. When I leave Guam, I'm hoping Zach and I will do the Tough Mudder together. It's intense but I think it's a great goal to have and to say "Oh yeah, I did that once." I wouldn't mind being able to go to the Crossfit Open eventually and if that went well, hell, bring on the Crossfit Games.
Working out with Zach has been pretty amazing too. Not only is he my best friend and husband, he's also pretty good at motivating. He says things like "Babe you got this," or "Seriously? Is that all you got?" I respond better to motivating me by saying things like "My grandma can lift more than that." We enjoy doing this together and I know it gives him a small boost to know his wife is over there all lifting weights and being bad ass. It gives me a massive amount of pride to see Zach outdo all of the young bucks that waltz in there. I'm like all "Oh yeah, that's my husband. He's basically a bad ass and he's awesome. No big deal." We don't wear our rings to the gym so he's fair game to hit on as well. He always says he has a girlfriend but I don't think that's true because we always leave together :)
A few other reasons (last ones, I promise) that I love going to Crossfit so much is that it's never the same workout. You're always doing something different and the workout is always posted on the Crossfit website. Sure, it looks EXTREMELY intimidating but there are always scaled workouts for different skill levels. Some days I can do a higher skill level, others, I'm still hanging out with the "puppies" with my cute pvc pipe I may just Bedazzle. At any rate, I love it and it makes me happy.
So, while your done reading all of my pro-Crossfit propaganda, go check out the website, do a little reading and form your own opinions.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Quick recap...nothing too exciting :)
Quick recap of the week/weekend because I still have more to say even though I already had two entries last night! September is shaping up to be pretty productive so far but I'm sure it's short lived.
Wednesday we went to the famous Chamorro Village which is a little market in Agana filled with amazing Chamorro BBQ, Asian food, a coconut crab on a leash, and little stands with sun dresses and knick knacks. I got some BBQ on a stick, red rice and lumpia which is basically an egg roll. The goal was to hit the gym once we left but I gorged myself and I'm pretty sure people were staring because I felt like Jabba the Hut while I was shoveling red rice into my mouth. It was glorious, gratifying and I'm pretty sure I ate my entire calories for the day in that sitting.
Thursday, I made four new personal records at the gym, including my very first 140 pound deadlift so that made me feel like a badass. Of course, I couldn't walk or get up from peeing for two days but who's counting?
Friday was the command picnic where I neglected sunscreen because it was overcast. Some people just don't learn and I happen to be one of them. On top of not being able to move from the gym, I also found it rather difficult to wear clothing because of my lobster like qualities.
Saturday we had a BBQ with the flight doc and the other guys that do the same job as Zach. It was a lot of fun, the food was good and I made sure not to overeat this time. It was difficult because the brisket was beyond amazing.
Sunday was Zach's very first day of standing duty and I kind of like it because it gives us an excuse to stay home. So we went to Home Depot to get paint and do some projects around the house. I cleared my beautiful garden out because the rain had made it no so beautiful. It has killed everything except for the basil which has refused to die. I think I am going to give my basil a name. William Wallace. It's taking over so I am going to harvest all that I have and cut it down. I also had to cut down my beloved tomato plants. Extremely depressing.
That about sums it up.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
You can't win/domesticate them all
Happy September & Labor Day Weekend. I hope the food was plentiful and the rest was restful! Quite a busy week at the Riley Residence if I do say so myself. Ever since moving to Pensacola, I have worked in the food/bar/restaurant industry and if any of you know what that's like, you'll know the schedules are extremely unforgiving and more often than not...the best holidays are the busiest and hardest to request off. This year was the first year I was actually able to appreciate and celebrate a Labor Day weekend without having to work because I am a stay at home partially domesticated bad-ass who still cannot drive a manual vehicle.
With that being said, Friday, Zach had a command picnic he needed to attend and being the dutiful and amazing wife I am, I attended as well. Since the event was catered, the squadron FRG (Family Readiness Group where I have never been to a meeting but I am a part of via Facebook) had asked on their page if the ever so wonderful spouses (including me because I am, in fact, wonderful) to make desserts. I was alllllll over it, I decided to make Cake Batter Rice Krispie Treats and my all time favorite cake recipe I discovered two months ago, Hersey's Chocolate Cake. I made the cake for our birthday extravaganza and it was a hit! It stayed moist, delicious and is quite mouth watering. So I was all "Oh, I can make that cake because I'm awesome at it and everyone will love the Cake Batter Rice Krispies because you can't mess those up even if you DON'T read the directions all the way through." I knew I had the cake down so I didn't make a test run of that because you can't really mess it up. You're probably thinking "You can't mess up rice kripies either dumbass..." Well, in this case, you would be wrong.
There is such a thing as overcooking your marshmallows. It makes the rice krispies hard and not edible depending on how much you like your gums because it turns the rice krispies into jagged little gum killers. I can be pretty determined when I want to be and I was pretty determined to eat those rice krispies. I did. You know what? I couldn't eat anything hard for two days because of the damage inflicted upon my sweet and tender loving gums. I nailed the second batch but we'll get there in due time.
When we moved in, the previous people that lived here left a glass cutting board and a mini muffin tin plus a colored pencil but I didn't keep that. Thursday while I was preparing my batter to make this amazing cake, I had an aha moment!
"Since there will be lots of people at this picnic, I'll make mini cupcakes instead! They'll go farther and I'll be famous! Oh....but I don't have any mini cupcake papers *Sad face* That's okay! I'll just use Pam and flour like they did in the good ol' days! Rachele, you are one brilliant sexy beast and you're really really ridiculously good looking in those rainboots and apron you made 5 years ago with your stick figure self portrait and name spelled incorrectly."
In most homes I have lived in, the heat from the oven radiates up to the top of the stove. Actually...I think all of the homes. Before I made the batter, I made the rice krispie treats and of course, put them on the "only" counter space I had available. You know, the top of the stove. Also, I like to sing to myself. If you know me at all, you know I make up songs for everything. Like New Girl except I have been doing it since waaaay before the show came on tv.
"La de da doooo da makin mini cupcakes sucks. Doooooo deee daaaaahhhh this is really tedious, havin to wash the pan out each time yeah. I hate your face mini cupcake tin yeah. I hope you kinda die in the dishwasher yeah because I'm not cleanin you up no mo yeah. Why is there always a miiiiiddddget cupcake in the tin because you can't win em all ohhhh yeaaaaah."
Zach: "Hey babe, are you in there singing about making cupcakes?"
"Mind your own damn business Riley. I'm in my kitchen and not all up in yo business out there. Why you tryna be up in my grill while I'm making mini cupcakes yo? You is actin a fool dawg."
Zach: "Jesus, some days I wonder why exactly I married you."
But he said it while he was laughing which leads me to believe he was partially joking. 98.5% of the conversations between my husband and myself are something of the above nature. Never a dull moment, I tell you!
Anyways, so after about 75 of these mini cupcakes (roughly two hours) are made, I realize the rice krispies are still on top of the oven but by the time I get there, it's too late. The marshmallows were melted down to the bottom. Once they cooled off, they were unable to be salvaged and sent to live out the rest of their days on the counter, alone in the world with no friends.
I frost the mini cupcakes, dabbling in a few here and there along with my husband for quality control. We couldn't have anyone getting sick now, could we?
"I haaaate frosting mini cupcakes yeahhhhh. Mini cupcakes, you're the deeeeevilllll and never again yeaaaaah."
* Some Mature/Inappropriate Subject Matter That is Detrimental to Getting You To Understand The State of My Mini Cupcakes. If you're offended easily, you should shy away from the last two sentences.
The next morning, we wake up bright and early to head to the beach. I prayed for a safe arrival at our destination. They got smooshed all to hell annnnd the frosting melted and it may or may not have looked rather inappropriate but we won't discuss that any further...the frosting was white. Draw your own mature conclusions.
"I quit, I'm done. I'm never showing my face at an FRG meeting, I'm going back to bartending and cooking mac n cheese in the microwave. I am sure I will never be domesticated fully. I'm not cut out for this Suzy Homemaker crap. I don't even separate my colors when I do laundry! I'm like a wolf, I can be a pet but in the end, I'm still a wild and rabid creature who hates to fold clothes."
"Babe, you're overreacting and being ridiculous. Why can't you just put them out there? I don't understand why you're making such a big deal over this?"
"BECAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE (This is where you insert your maturely drawn conclusions) ALL OVER IT AND I'M NOT GOING TO HAVE PEOPLE THINK SOMEONE DID NASTY THINGS TO MY CUPCAKES AND THAT I ALLOWED IT!"
He's always the voice of reason but mostly because I think he needs to be because sometimes I'm sure he wants to strangle me. Which is okay because it would be out of love and thoughtfulness. In the end, they remained exactly where they were...in the bed of Zach's truck where I force fed a few of them to Zach's co-workers. And by force fed, I mean I kind of guilt tripped them so I didn't feel like a complete failure.
I suppose you really can't win them all. Next time I'm probably just going to spike the punch. That should make everyone happy.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
With that being said, Friday, Zach had a command picnic he needed to attend and being the dutiful and amazing wife I am, I attended as well. Since the event was catered, the squadron FRG (Family Readiness Group where I have never been to a meeting but I am a part of via Facebook) had asked on their page if the ever so wonderful spouses (including me because I am, in fact, wonderful) to make desserts. I was alllllll over it, I decided to make Cake Batter Rice Krispie Treats and my all time favorite cake recipe I discovered two months ago, Hersey's Chocolate Cake. I made the cake for our birthday extravaganza and it was a hit! It stayed moist, delicious and is quite mouth watering. So I was all "Oh, I can make that cake because I'm awesome at it and everyone will love the Cake Batter Rice Krispies because you can't mess those up even if you DON'T read the directions all the way through." I knew I had the cake down so I didn't make a test run of that because you can't really mess it up. You're probably thinking "You can't mess up rice kripies either dumbass..." Well, in this case, you would be wrong.
There is such a thing as overcooking your marshmallows. It makes the rice krispies hard and not edible depending on how much you like your gums because it turns the rice krispies into jagged little gum killers. I can be pretty determined when I want to be and I was pretty determined to eat those rice krispies. I did. You know what? I couldn't eat anything hard for two days because of the damage inflicted upon my sweet and tender loving gums. I nailed the second batch but we'll get there in due time.
When we moved in, the previous people that lived here left a glass cutting board and a mini muffin tin plus a colored pencil but I didn't keep that. Thursday while I was preparing my batter to make this amazing cake, I had an aha moment!
"Since there will be lots of people at this picnic, I'll make mini cupcakes instead! They'll go farther and I'll be famous! Oh....but I don't have any mini cupcake papers *Sad face* That's okay! I'll just use Pam and flour like they did in the good ol' days! Rachele, you are one brilliant sexy beast and you're really really ridiculously good looking in those rainboots and apron you made 5 years ago with your stick figure self portrait and name spelled incorrectly."
In most homes I have lived in, the heat from the oven radiates up to the top of the stove. Actually...I think all of the homes. Before I made the batter, I made the rice krispie treats and of course, put them on the "only" counter space I had available. You know, the top of the stove. Also, I like to sing to myself. If you know me at all, you know I make up songs for everything. Like New Girl except I have been doing it since waaaay before the show came on tv.
"La de da doooo da makin mini cupcakes sucks. Doooooo deee daaaaahhhh this is really tedious, havin to wash the pan out each time yeah. I hate your face mini cupcake tin yeah. I hope you kinda die in the dishwasher yeah because I'm not cleanin you up no mo yeah. Why is there always a miiiiiddddget cupcake in the tin because you can't win em all ohhhh yeaaaaah."
Zach: "Hey babe, are you in there singing about making cupcakes?"
"Mind your own damn business Riley. I'm in my kitchen and not all up in yo business out there. Why you tryna be up in my grill while I'm making mini cupcakes yo? You is actin a fool dawg."
Zach: "Jesus, some days I wonder why exactly I married you."
But he said it while he was laughing which leads me to believe he was partially joking. 98.5% of the conversations between my husband and myself are something of the above nature. Never a dull moment, I tell you!
Anyways, so after about 75 of these mini cupcakes (roughly two hours) are made, I realize the rice krispies are still on top of the oven but by the time I get there, it's too late. The marshmallows were melted down to the bottom. Once they cooled off, they were unable to be salvaged and sent to live out the rest of their days on the counter, alone in the world with no friends.
I frost the mini cupcakes, dabbling in a few here and there along with my husband for quality control. We couldn't have anyone getting sick now, could we?
"I haaaate frosting mini cupcakes yeahhhhh. Mini cupcakes, you're the deeeeevilllll and never again yeaaaaah."
* Some Mature/Inappropriate Subject Matter That is Detrimental to Getting You To Understand The State of My Mini Cupcakes. If you're offended easily, you should shy away from the last two sentences.
The next morning, we wake up bright and early to head to the beach. I prayed for a safe arrival at our destination. They got smooshed all to hell annnnd the frosting melted and it may or may not have looked rather inappropriate but we won't discuss that any further...the frosting was white. Draw your own mature conclusions.
"I quit, I'm done. I'm never showing my face at an FRG meeting, I'm going back to bartending and cooking mac n cheese in the microwave. I am sure I will never be domesticated fully. I'm not cut out for this Suzy Homemaker crap. I don't even separate my colors when I do laundry! I'm like a wolf, I can be a pet but in the end, I'm still a wild and rabid creature who hates to fold clothes."
"Babe, you're overreacting and being ridiculous. Why can't you just put them out there? I don't understand why you're making such a big deal over this?"
"BECAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE (This is where you insert your maturely drawn conclusions) ALL OVER IT AND I'M NOT GOING TO HAVE PEOPLE THINK SOMEONE DID NASTY THINGS TO MY CUPCAKES AND THAT I ALLOWED IT!"
He's always the voice of reason but mostly because I think he needs to be because sometimes I'm sure he wants to strangle me. Which is okay because it would be out of love and thoughtfulness. In the end, they remained exactly where they were...in the bed of Zach's truck where I force fed a few of them to Zach's co-workers. And by force fed, I mean I kind of guilt tripped them so I didn't feel like a complete failure.
I suppose you really can't win them all. Next time I'm probably just going to spike the punch. That should make everyone happy.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
It's kind of a good look for me
So the link to this blog is Rileywriteswithcoffee.com but at the moment I'm drinking an energy drink. It's not morning. I mean, it kind of is but not really. I'm taking a break to share with you the conversation I just had with my husband after I went to the bathroom and saw that my pony tail is teal instead of black....the color of my hair.
I barged in the room while he was trying to sleep...
R: "Riley, did you notice anything about my hair this evening?"
Z: "Uhh...no?"
R: "Anything? Anything at all? Are you sure?"
Z: "No. Was I supposed to? Is this a trick question?"
*Turns on light.
Z: "Ohhhhh...I didn't do it if that's what you're saying. Well I'm not the one that did it. It will come out."
"Oh yeah? How do you know, did you get it in your hair?"
Z: "Yeah actually, it came out of my arm hair when I got some on it."
*Blank stare.
Z: "Hair is hair no matter where it's at."
And it's answers like that, that make me love the man I'm married to even more :)
Xoxo
Riley Writes
I barged in the room while he was trying to sleep...
R: "Riley, did you notice anything about my hair this evening?"
Z: "Uhh...no?"
R: "Anything? Anything at all? Are you sure?"
Z: "No. Was I supposed to? Is this a trick question?"
*Turns on light.
"Oh yeah? How do you know, did you get it in your hair?"
Z: "Yeah actually, it came out of my arm hair when I got some on it."
*Blank stare.
Z: "Hair is hair no matter where it's at."
And it's answers like that, that make me love the man I'm married to even more :)
Xoxo
Riley Writes
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