I threw a cake when I was nine. I’ll tell you that story later.

As you know, I had to take a food item to school yesterday for teachers to snack on during the Parent/Teacher Conferences. Harper and I went to the store yesterday morning, and quickly decided on a cheese and sausage platter with crackers.

When we returned home, Harper looked at me with her big brown eyes and said, “I wanted to take brownies to the teachers because I wanted to MAKE brownies for the teachers.”

Hhhhh. Let’s make brownies.

We had less than an hour to make brownies and still get Harper and the snacks to school on time. Combine brownie mix, eggs, oil, chocolate chips, etc., spread in a greased foil throwaway pan, bake for 42 minutes, take brownies out of the oven, apply plastic lid, shove hand into oven mitt and carry brownies out to the car with the cheese, crackers, and preschooler. Done.

Know this: We bought new boots for Harper a few weeks ago. They’re pink and suede and awkward. (Awkward = Foreshadowing!) Okay. Back to our story.

When we arrived at school, I had less than five minutes to deliver the snacks to the office before delivering Harper to preschool pick-up. I parked the car, wedged the cheese and crackers into the crook of my left arm, shoved my left hand into the oven mitt and balanced the hot brownies on my left hand. (Can you tell that something wicked this way comes?) I then opened Harper’s door with my right hand, and she undid her seat belt and started to climb out of the car. As she climbed down, her boot got caught on the front seat (I *told* you they’re awkward!), and she started to stumble. When I went to steady her with my right hand, my ankle did that thing that ankles sometimes do when they suddenly give out and you lose your balance. When my ankle did that thing, I accidentally chucked the hot brownies like a frisbee across the parking lot.

Me: Shit.

Harper: You can’t say that.

Me: Yeah. Okay then. I just did.

I retrieved the brownies from across the lot (they were all cracked and bent up like they had been hit by a car (surprisingly, the plastic lid stayed on)), returned them to the passenger side of my car, and Harper and I ran in and delivered the cheese.

Super Nice Lady in the Office: Oh! Thank you so much for the cheese and crackers! This is great!

Me (in constant need of both praise and a good confession): Thanks! I just fell down and hurled brownies across the parking lot.

SNLitO (pronounced Sin LIT Oh): Are you okay?

Me (doing the thing that I do): Oh! I’m good. And the lid stayed on the brownies, and they’re the kind of brownies that have chocolate chips on top. I Fell Down!

SNLitO (aka Dumbledore, because she’s so wise and forgiving): Teachers Eat Anything.

So I went outside, tried my best to bend the brownie container back into shape—a feat not completely unlike trying to bend a Cutlass Supreme back into shape—and turned them in to SNLitO. And she complimented their smell. Because she sees the good in everything.

I could learn a lot from SNLitO.

We all could. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I envied him.

Beth asked for it, and I totally love her.

Sir did it, and he is one of my absolute favorites.

And because I spent many lonely teenage hours working on my handwriting (I *really* wanted my signature to look more like a logo than a signature), I’m sharing it with you. Please enjoy my very favorite piece by Mark Strand. It was written about you, you know.

gstrand ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The only problem: Tomatoes aren’t so good right now.

Our parent/teacher conference is on Thursday evening, and I have volunteered to bring a food item to school for the teachers to snack on during the conferences. Because my mind tends to swim around in paltry waters and I want my food item to be a Memorable and Thoughtful food item (preferably containing a protein of some sort because that’s what I tend to crave these days), I’m obsessing about what to bring.

My brain is telling me to buy a 30 pack of Taco Bell tacos.

My heart is telling me to create an out of this world vegetarian taco dip casserole thing.

My daughters are telling me to bake brownies.

My husband is telling me that he’s leaving town on Wednesday and won’t be returning until approximately two minutes before our first conference.

Any recommendations?

In completely unrelated news, if you follow me on Twitter, you’ll notice that I’ve come out of hiding (I’m not so good at Twitter, if one may be considered Good at Twitter) and am now completing nearly every one of my thoughts with #momspotting. I’ll be telling you more about that in the coming weeks, but for now, here’s a video that will surely catapult you to the edge of your seats.

Vegetarian taco dip, right? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

So, on with the boots, back out in the snow…

This afternoon will find us wining and dining a six-year-old girl who has never been to our house before.

(To the mom of the six-year-old girl who has never been to our house before: I’m exaggerating on the wining part.)

We’ll be picking her up shortly and heading straight out to the root beer factory and then back to our house to play until 3:00.

To prepare for this event, I pulled out my Homekeeping Handbook. My kitchen and bathroom floors have now been mopped to Martha Stewart standards, including the wiping o’ the baseboards. All kitchen countertops are spotless. The family room is in need of a good floor suck, and then she’s passable.

All of this for a six year old girl who is not a member of royalty.

As I run around folding clothes and disinfecting sinks and tubs, this song keeps playing over and over in my head:

Also on my schedule for today: processing 28 freelance chapters (heh. whoops.), shooting and editing a short introduction video (I’ll talk about that more later), baking a pumpkin cake (in the shape of a pumpkin farm thing!), purchasing a birthday gift for Jeff’s mom, having Jeff’s mom over for dinner, and reading the final twenty pages of The Shack for tomorrow’s book club meeting.

Enjoy your Saturday. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This is why I can’t chill with the bird watchers.

The girls are home from school today. I’m not sure why, but I think it has something to do with either staff development or the birth of Matthew Sweet.

As I prepared my very large cup of coffee this morning, I glanced out into the back yard where I noticed a fairly large bird with a red spot on his head.

Me (still suffering from pregnancy brain, five years after the fact): Sssh! Girls! Come look at this! We have a red peckerhead in our back yard!

Harper (scrambling toward the window): What’s a peckerhead?

Me (still completely unaware of what I’m saying): A peckerhead is that bird with the red spot on his head! He takes his beak and he beats it against a tree so it goes knockknockknockknockknock!

Harper: Meredith! We’ve got a peckerhead in the yard!

Thank God for Meredith. She slowly wandered over, looked out into the back yard, and said, “Actually, Mommy, I think that’s a woodpecker.”

Okay then. Right you are. And while we’re here, let’s not ever speak of the peckerheads. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’m thinking of pulling out The House of Mirth again.

The first book my book club read was Revolutionary Road. Because I recommended the book, I read it. On book club night, we watched the movie, discussed the book while eating at Canyon Cafe, and chose our next book .

The second book my book club read was The Other Queen. I tried to read it. Really, I did. And when the book club scheduled the next gathering and I hadn’t even made it to the halfway point, I purchased the audio book. And I tried to get through it. But I failed. And when I went to the meeting to discuss the book, I spent most of my time discussing the lemon bars I had made. (They were really great lemon bars! Worth talking about! Mary, Queen of Who?!)

The third book my book club read was Three Cups of Tea. And something must be wrong with me, because I couldn’t get through that one, either. And when the book club scheduled the next gathering and I hadn’t even made it to the halfway point, I purchased the audio book. And I tried to get through it. But I failed. (Does this paragraph sound oddly familiar?!) I had a migraine the night of the bonfire/discussion session—which bums me out to this day, because come on. Bonfire. I still haven’t read the book.

The fourth book my book club read was The Shack. And get this. We chose the book sometime in April, I believe, and I’M STILL NOT FINISHED WITH IT. We’re meeting on Sunday, and I have about forty more pages to go, which means I’ll probably get through it, but what is wrong with me?! I can’t read a book in six months? And it’s a book about God! I should totally be done with it by now!

I’m still working on Infinite Jest. I had a brief e-mail exchange last week with a woman who summed up my feelings perfectly. The more I read this book, the more I fall in love with it, and the more I don’t want it to end. So I’m reading it very slowly. Too slowly. I don’t even believe I’ve reached page 300 yet.

I am not getting any smarter, Internet, and I believe it’s because I’m not reading as much as I should.

I blame silk and wool.

What are you reading these days? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I sort of love Jonathan Safran Foer. And long mittens.

Thanks to all of you, my family will be eating chili for the next three weeks. High fives to one and all.

I’m leaving the house in a few minutes to get a little bit sushified. I may or may not add on a trip to the book store to pick up Eating Animals. I’ve been cheating on my vegetarian sensibilities for the past few months, and I believe this book will put me right where I need to be.

Most importantly, the holiday knitting has begun.

Bella's Mittens (WIP)

So far, I have two mittens, neither of which have thumbs. I shall thumb them in the coming weeks, and they will be gifted to one of Meredith’s teachers. Next up? A hat for the coach who lets Meredith out of the car every morning. Because he does it with a smile and a “Good morning, Meredith!” Every Single Day Even When It’s Raining.

Raw fish doesn’t really count as meat, right?

Don’t answer that. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I put the meat-free thing on hold when it comes to chili.

My father and I have a problem.

We’re chili fans, you see, and it seems that RB Rice has stopped producing their chili block, which was a vital ingredient in our Perfect Chili recipe. Without the RB Rice chili block, we’re left shaking our heads and throwing beans and spices around all willy nilly.

Dad has found that the recipe on the back of the Brooks Chili Seasoning bag is good, and adding a can of drained kidney beans makes it even better.

I have been known to melt Hershey bars in my chili. Once again, I have no idea what I’m doing.

Are you sitting on The Perfect Chili Recipe? Cough it up, my friend.

My father and I are starting to feel desperate.

And ’tis the season. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>