"I love you, Mommy."

"I bet you do: I'm making cookies."

"Are those cookies ready yet?"

Auntie Monster's Baby Blankets

Once upon a time, when I had just two monsters, I threw together fleece lap quilts featuring my partner's old metal t-shirts for the wee ones.

I framed the shirt fronts in poodle fleece, backed them with a skull-and-crossbones fleece, serged the edges and called 'em "done." It was a quick-and-dirty project intended more to give the boys each something of Daddy's to snuggle with than to rock anyone's crafty world. They were promptly named the "pirate blankets" by the Big One, because any skulls or bones automatically means pirate (or Jack Skellington).

My then-not-yet sister in law thought the blankets were hilarious, and asked me to make her a Cradle of Filth blanket "if [she] ever [had] kids." I laughed it off and said "sure," and it was never brought up again.

"Ever," of course, has turned into "April," and I have not forgotten my promise (though I have a feeling she has). Of course, baby J needed a bit more than a quick fleece blanket from his Auntie Monster, so I developed grand plans of putting together a pieced t-shirt-front quilt that would delight his parents and one day the mister himself.

But here's the thing: I really stink at quilting and blanket making. And yet I keep trying...

I love to sew, but when I say I'm sewing something it usually means something silly and frivolous that will require hardware to work properly (like the Tudor gown at the left, complete with steel-boned undergarments). Want a brocade bustle to jazz up your steampunk ensemble? Gotcha covered. Need a gypsy skirt or a court costume to wear to that Renaissance festival you promised your nerdy friend you'd attend? I have a whole trunk full. The day I found out I was pregnant with Big One I wore an 18th-century robe a'la Francaise to one of my graduate classes as part of a semester-long project. Yeah, I'm that kind of nerd.

But ask me to sew blocks of fabric together and you sure as heck can't expect it all to be squared.

So, as usual, my first attempt was a failure. I had cut two t-shirts (one Cradle of Filth for the mama, and one Boondock Saints for my brother) into 3-inch strips, serged them together end to end, and then cut the one long strip into several strips to then piece together for the front of the quilt. The end result was something like a gothic brick-road rainbow.

But I just couldn't let it go. My solution was this: I cut nine regular rectangles out of the curved mess of piecing, regardless of the direction of the seams, edged them all in the same fabric as the baking, and crossed my fingers that it would all come together.

And this is the final result. It's a little bit of his mother, a little bit of his father, a little bit of his babyhood (his nursery is decorated with frogs, and that's what the paisley pattern is), and a little bit of his auntie. If nothing else it should keep the new monster warm and remind him that he's loved.

What's the point of sharing all this? Well, I have a few, not least of which is my love of sharing completed projects.

Two, I wanted to share one way to preserve t-shirts instead of stuffing them in a drawer.

Three, I always appreciate hearing about mistakes people make when crafting/sewing/baking, especially when they are able to save it in the end.

I can't wait for Baby J to make his entrance.

Things I Learned in the First Six Months of Motherhood

Our family is expecting a new member some time in the next month or so: my very first nephew! (Not only do my rockin' brother and his amazing wife get to be first-time parents, but I get to be a first-time aunt! Auntie Monster, perhaps?)

It's making me feel nostalgic about my own first-timer days (which is a lot easier now that all three Monsters sleep through the night), and I came across this little bit when looking through old blog posts and baby photos.

I wrote the following list nearly four years ago - when Big One was six months old - and it held true for all three of my own kiddos. There is more (oh, so much more!), but this is a good description of our first six months as Parents.

Things I Learned in the First Six Months of Motherhood

1. Don’t Panic.

2. This, too, shall pass.

3. Move beyond the birth – in the end it doesn’t matter how he got here, just that he’s here.

4. People always tell first time moms-to-be that they can’t even fathom how much they will love their child once they are born. That that love is indescribable, and heartbreaking. They’re right.

5. You will become oddly comfortable with bodily functions very quickly. And Oxyclean is magic.

6. You will do two out of three things you swore you would “never” do. And that’s ok.

7. It’s ok to ask for help – it doesn’t mean you’re a bad mom.

8. It’s also ok to ask questions – even the “stupid” ones.

9. You really can function without sleep. But napping when your baby does can be nice, too.

10. Hormones suck.

11. There will always be someone who does things different. They will think their way is the only way. You will think they’re wrong. But there’s no point in arguing – just take care of your baby.

12. Everyone has advice for new moms. And some of it is actually pretty good.

13. Some of that advice may actually come from the dad. Not all suggestions are criticism.

14. Four-month-olds (or thereabouts) hate life. And no matter how much grandparents/friends/internet strangers may try to convince you otherwise, very few babies teethe at four months. Yours probably isn’t. He’s probably just being a four-month-old.

15. The “cannibal stage” doesn’t mean they’re teething, either (no matter how badly you want something to “blame”). They chew. And drool. They’re babies.

16. They’ll outgrow “it” by the time they go to college. Don’t stress.

17. It’s ok to take some time to yourself. A few hours a week doing something for you will help you recharge, and give the kiddo some time with someone else who loves him. In the end, it’ll make everyone a little bit happier.

18. Establishing routines does not mean having to be a militant mom, and it can actually be a big help for everyone.

19. It’s very sad to pack up the clothes they’ve outgrown. Especially when you find you can do it every few weeks.

20. Enjoy the everyday – every smile, every laugh, every little milestone. I’m only six months into this, but I have a feeling that one day these will be memories to sob over, and I’ll be glad to have them.

Dear Pot,

I recently enjoyed your status update in which you complain about a number of people on your news feed posting pictures of their children. It was especially informative when you followed it with twenty photos of your adult cat sleeping on various chairs and sofas, thereby establishing what designates a preferable social networking post.

Thanks for the lol,
Kettle

Circus Cake

Rainbow cakes seem to be all the rage on food blogs lately, which means I've been coming across them (to my delight) about once a week.

I'm horribly and wonderfully addicted to food blogs.

Anyway, when faced with the prospect of bringing a treat to Big One's preschool circus party I could think of nothing better!

My initial thought was to make a cotton candy cake, but in the end I went with my tried-and-true yellow cake recipe and added some cotton candy to a regular buttercream.



The director of the school actually called me to tell me how delighted they were with the cake, which left me giggly for days.

Awesome Yellow Cake

Cake Ingredients
1 cup shortening or butter (both work equally well)
2 cups white sugar
5 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2.75 cups all-purpose flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1.75 cups milk
1 box instant vanilla pudding

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and prepare your pan or pans. I work with four round 9" pans, which makes it a lot easier to throw together cakes with several layers.
2. Stir together the "good stuff," as I always remembered of it as a kid: butter and sugar, followed by eggs, dry pudding mix, and vanilla.
3. Combine the rest of the ingredients. While a separate bowl is generally recommended, I find that measuring out the flour in a large measuring cup and then adding salt/baking powder and giving it a quick stir just the trick just fine.
4. Alternate mixing in the dry goods and the milk until everything is thoroughly combined.

At this point you could bake it at will: 45 minutes for one 9x13 sheet, or 15-20 minutes for a few round layers. But then you wouldn't have a clown cake - just a very yummy yellow cake.

5. To make the layers I separate the batter into six separate bowls, each with approximately 3/4 c. Then I added food colorings at will. This part is totally up to the baker. I wanted to go with primary colors but was stuck with a "neon" box of food coloring, so I had to adapt a bit. Plus, I added a black layer because, well, I'm Mme. Monster.



6. Each color went in its own pan, and I baked four at once and then the final two layers. Small layers like this are usually done in 15-18 minutes, but be sure to check with a toothpick or thin knife.

7. Let the cakes cool for about ten minutes in the pan before turning them out onto a wire rack. I used to have a terrible time getting my layers out in one piece before I realized that the bottoms of the cakes weren't cooling on the still-warm stovetop. To fix this I started cooling the pans on wire racks before dumping the cakes over, and voila! Solid layers!



Icing
2/3 c. soft butter
4 cups powered sugar
2 Tbsp. (or more) milk
1 tsp. vanilla
1 package cotton candy and milk (1-2 Tbsp) to dissolve

Have you ever purposefully dissolved cotton candy? It's kind of fun and kind of gross. And it turns a very unappetizing shade of green.


1. Dissolve cotton candy, using just enough milk to liquify the whole mess.
2. Combine all ingredients with an electric mixer (trust me, it's just easier).
3. Separate into bowls and color as desired.

I went with five colors: green, blue, orange, pink/red, and purple.


Assembly
I am really glad I took assembly pictures of this cake, because it helps drive home just how colorful it all was.



Once the layers are assembled you can frost the exterior of the cake. And, if you're like me, you'll run out of the primary color you intended to use.

In my head, this was going to be a bright green cake with homemade dot candy in black and white all over the surface. However, it ended up a kind of tie dye nightmare which ultimately looked like it belonged in a preschool classroom.



White sprinkles went around the sides of the cake, and I dropped homemade dot candy (royal icing, really) directly on top.





I wish now that I had done more dot candy colors, but I had never tried it before. I also wish my top layer had baked flat, but that doesn't always happen around the lab.

Strawberry Coffin Cakes

Coffin Cakes a'la Desdemona, perhaps?

I actually made these a month ago, but I never seemed to find the time to post...

I purchased a coffin pan last fall, and I've been anxious to find an excuse to use it. It is intended to bake dessert cups, and actually came with a brownie recipe (that I didn't end up keeping...), but when I came across a recipe for a chocolate loaf I thought it sounded like the perfect treat.

And, because it's what I had on hand, I decided to serve these creepy treats with strawberries and whipped cream, which immediately brought Othello to mind.

Iago would have loved these.



Ultimately, I have to call these coffin cakes a mixed success. The Monsters and I enjoyed them, but I found the cake itself to be far more dry than I would have liked. I addressed this by pouring plenty of extra strawberry syrup over my own servings, and it worked like a charm.

Creepy and Kooky and certainly yummy.


Strawberry Coffin Cakes
from Two Peas & Their Pod

Ingredients
.75 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup cocoa powder
1.5 cups all purpose flour
.75 cup sugar
1.5 teaspoons baking soda
.75 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 egg yolk*
.75 cup buttermilk**
.5 vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
8 ounces dark chocolate chips

Toppings
.5 cup chopped strawberries per serving
.5 cup sugar
whipped cream

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease your pan of choice.
2. Mix together the dry goods in one bowel, and whisk the wet ingredients in a separate bowl.
3. Slowly stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, and mix just until the two are combined. This can be done with a mixer or by hand. Personally, I mix all of my batters with a regular flatware tablespoon, because it's easier to grab out of the drawer than it is to pull out either my hand mixer or my stand mixer. I understand that this is strange.
4. Mix in the chips or chunks by hand.
5. Pour into mold of choice and bake. For the coffins, I filled the molds about 3/4 full and checked them after 18 minutes. I stand by the toothpick trick of checking baked goods - if a toothpick inserted in the thickest part of the confection comes out clean then it's done. Maria and Josh recommend one hour to one hour and ten minutes if baking this as a loaf and not cupcakes/dessert cups.
6. Let the cakes sit in the p an for about ten minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.
7. Top and enjoy.

While the cakes are in the oven I washed and chopped my strawberries and put them in a tupperware container with the sugar. To make sure the strawberries are juicy and syrupy I shake the container vigorously before putting it in the fridge to sit (my partner prefers juicy shortcakes, so this is largely to appease him). We toped the coffins as we ate them, and the strawberry mix stayed well in the fridge for several days. Likewise, the coffins kept on our glas cake plate until they mysteriously disappeared.

* I saved the egg white for breakfast the next day
** I never ever keep buttermilk. Instead, I put 1 tablespoon of lemon juice in an 8oz. measuring cup, and then filled it to the line with milk. After sitting for five minutes it makes a great substitute, and you can just measure off what you need. I've been told that white vinegar works just as well.

Two cooking tips I love

...and use over and over again:

Buttermilk.

Who keeps buttermilk? I don't. But I do keep lemon juice, and there's always milk.

To make buttermilk I pour 1 Tbsp. of lemon juice into a measuring cup, and then fill the cup to the 1 c. line with milk. It needs to sit for five minutes, and then I pour what I need into my dough.



Cutting-in butter.

Wow, do I hate this - I just can't seem to do it right. Instead of doing it the way I was taught in home ec, I grate my frozen butter with a large cheese grater. It works every time, and saves my sanity.

My husband suggested I let the boys pick out their own yoga mats

I opened the Amazon product page for the yoga mats I decided to buy for the toddlers, and turned it to Middle Child.

"M, what color do you want?" I, for one, was super excited. He frowned at me.
"Watch Thomas."
"Yes, I know you're going to watch Thomas. But first, what color do you want?"
He frowned and pointed at the tv. "Watch. Thomas."
"Yes, watch Thomas. What color do you want?" I held the computer up so he could point. Which he did, saying, "Square!"
"Very good, M - that is a square. But what color square?"
"Black!"
"Black? Really?" In my mind I'm thinking, wow, you are mine!
"No, no black."
"Oh, what color?"
"Yellow!"
"There is no yellow. Do you mean green?"
"PURPLE!"
"Great! Purple!"
"No purple."
"M, what color?"
"Orange square."
"Orange, then?"
"No. Yellow."
"Ok, do you mean the yellow-green?"
"Green."
"Do you want a green one?"
He looked me straight in the eye and very definitively said, "Yes."
My sister-in-law laughed at this point and said, "I think that's an answer!"
So we went with the olive green.

Big One was easier. He took one look and shouted "blue!" and went back to his lunch.

M did perfect his downward-facing dog tonight.