it's almost like being pregnant again...

She loves to kick me in the stomach and squirm around... Jason asked if that's really what it was like... and it's probably as close as he will ever get to knowing. Too bad he doesn't have to waddle, or get kicked in the bladder... and he can take her off when he wants. :)

Chicken and Artichoke Lasagna

Today's post is brought to you by Pinterest.  I freakin' LOVE Pinterest because it gives you so many good ideas for so many different things.  I've pretty much stopped searching the internet for new recipes because my Pinterest friends post enough delicious looking stuff that I want to try. Seriously, go look at my Pinterest food section.  Drooling yet?

While I haven't made everything that I have collected on there so far, I have made an effort to try at least one thing on there a week.  A few weeks ago Jason and I tried some grilled Brussels sprouts with an aoili dipping sauce that was delicious, but I need to snag the picture from him so that people know what the food really turns out like.  That's the one thing I hate about cookbooks.  No ones food ever turns out that pretty.  Let's be real.  

Anyway, on with the food!

This weeks venture was Chicken and Artichoke Lasagna, which was adapted from Tasty Tidbits.  I am usually not a fan of noodle recipes that require working with the noodles (like stuffed shells or lasagna noodles) because they always break or something else tragic happens.  But, I am a fan of cheese, and artichokes, so I thought I would give it a try.  This is a sauceless recipe, as well as not including ricotta cheese, which was ok by me because I think ricotta has a funky texture, (I'll eat it anyway) but it is a super creamy, and super deliciously cheesy recipe.  How can I go wrong?

It was a little pricier than I'd like it to be, but some of the more expensive ingredients (see: sun dried tomatoes packed in oil, which cost us almost $10 for an 8oz jar) can be used for several recipes as we only used about 1/3 of the jar.  It turned out delicious!  Even Mr. I-Hate-Casseroles liked it.  Unfortunately I didn't have any fresh basil so I ended up using dried, which I am sure impacted the flavor a bit, so I would definitely recommend making the effort to find some fresh stuff, but it was still incredibly delectable.  It made at least 6 very hearty sized-portions, and I'm sure you would be able to get 8 or more out of it if you included a side salad or bread.

Chicken and Artichoke Lasagna

Ingredients

2 cups shredded cooked chicken breasts 

1 can (14 oz.) artichoke hearts, drained, chopped 

2 cups (8 oz.) shredded mozzarella cheese, divided 

1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese 

1/2 cup chopped drained oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes 

2 pkg. (8 oz. each) cream cheese, softened 

1 cup milk 

1/2 tsp. garlic powder 

1/4 cup tightly packed fresh basil, chopped

12 lasagna noodles, cooked

Directions

HEAT oven to 350°F.

COMBINE chicken, artichokes, 1 cup mozzarella, Parmesan and tomatoes. Beat cream cheese, milk and garlic powder with mixer until well blended; stir in basil. Mix half with the chicken mixture. 

SPREAD half the remaining cream cheese mixture onto bottom of 13x9-inch baking dish; cover with 3 noodles and 1/3 of the chicken mixture. Repeat layers of noodles and chicken mixture twice. Top with remaining noodles, cream cheese mixture and mozzarella; cover. 

BAKE 30 min. or until heated through. Let stand 5 min. before cutting to serve. 

Momma's Little Trooper

Today we had Quinn's two month check up, which included shots.  Her first shots were done in the hospital, in a room away from me, so I really didn't know what I was getting myself into.  Silly me, I thought that they would give shots to a baby similar to the way that they give shots to an adult.  Wrong!  The nurse had Jason hold Quinn's top half, we had to fold her legs over the side of the table because she's a kicker, and the nurse leaned up against them, and then JAB!  In goes the shot.  The needles aren't long, and I understand that its probably impossible to be as gentle with babies as they are with adults due to their small size, and squirming, but ugh, it was awful.  Quinn took her oral medication very well, as she does at home when we give her Semethicone, and her gripe water, but the first shot, she cried, the second she screamed, and the third she tried to scream so loud, it was like those nightmares you have where your mouth is open, your face is red, and nothing is coming out.  I felt so bad for her, but she was still such a trooper.  She got 3 band aids, 2 Snoopy, and 1 Tweety Bird, but I doubt that made up for her pain.  :(  She ended up spitting up / throwing up shortly thereafter, but the nurse said that they give extra oral medication because they know that some of it will undoubtedly come back up.

Momma's Little Trooper

She is on track for development, but she is very slender, which personally I don't have a problem with, and neither did her doctor.  Good on her.  She will hopefully get her father's genes in that area.

She has been fussy all day, and the only thing that has made her feel better is cuddles.  Poor thing, I'm sure her little legs are sore.

I heard two really funny sayings the other day, they both made me laugh because they were both so true:

"Whoever said there's no use crying over spilled milk obviously never pumped 6oz and dropped it."

and 

Motherhood:  The only place you can experience heaven and hell at the same time.

Don't talk behind her back...

So apparently it wasn't enough for Karma to screw us when we're being nice, but now she just wants to screw us, period.

Lets set the scene:

Yesterday, Jason has recently gotten out of the shower, and is getting ready for work.  I am getting ready to feed Quinn, but I go to change her diaper first.  Jason heads to the garage to get his work clothes, I get into Quinn's room, flip on the light, and hear a buzzing sound like a bug hit the light when it went on.  I looked around, saw nothing, and go about changing her diaper.  Quinn and I are giggling, as she is enjoying her naked time (she loves being naked, what can I say?) and Jason runs in the house with panic in his voice.

"The light exploded on my head!  I'm bleeding!"

"Uh... what?"

"The light, it exploded on my head, I'm bleeding everywhere!"

I grab Quinn, who is still naked, grab one of the old-school cloth diapers, that we are using as burp cloths to cover her, and run into the bathroom.  Jason is kneeling over the shower, blood is dripping everywhere, and his head is covered in white powder.  Flipping out.

Everything that happened after that is kind of a blur.  I remember frantically getting Quinn ready so fast, I just threw a shirt and a diaper on her, and put her in the car seat.  She is screaming because she is hungry, and hates being in her car seat if its not actually in the car, and Jason and I are scrambling to get dressed and get out the door to get him to the emergency room.

We arrived at the emergency room in what seemed like forever driving down the road.  To add to the fun, I don't normally drive, I'm bad at driving at night, its pouring rain, windy, and I don't have my glasses, so I kept missing turns.  They get Jason in relatively quickly, since no one else is in the waiting room.  They take him back to the check in room.  Take his temp, blood pressure etcetera, and while the blood pressure cuff is starting to inflate, he complains of the pain.  Literally 3 minutes later, he tells the nurse again that it hurts, and that his fingers are turning purple, and she's like, "Oh, its done!"  Thanks, now that he's lost all of the feeling in his arm.  I'm glad to know its not just me they try to kill with those things.

She takes us back to a room.  Jason sits down, his pain on a scale of 1-10 went from a 5 to an 8 in the distance it took us to walk to the room.  Quinn starts screaming to be fed (again, because Jason fed her in the car on the way over) and poor Jason lays down in agonizing pain because now his head is throbbing.

The girl comes in to check him in.

The girl comes in to look at his head.  Cleans it off with something that stings.  My guess is an alcohol sheet. Says the doctor will be in shortly.

Doctor comes in, says its not as bad as it feels, offers staples, but also adds that they may or may not help.  Jason declines.

Doctor leaves.  Hear her in the hallway tell the nurse to clean it up and put some Neosporin on it.

Jason and I joke about how good their Neosporin must be, since it will probably cost us $500.  Cry on the inside, because its not really funny, and it's probably true.

Nurse comes in, puts on gloves, tells Jason that she is going to put on a saline solution, and some Neosporin, and it will probably sting.   Nurse scampers out, saying she will be right back.  I think she forgot something.

Code blue is called over the intercom.  Repeated 3 times.  Code blue, and the room number.  At least a minute passes by, maybe three, and its paged again.  Start to wonder what code blue is.  Nurse still isn't back.  I tell Jason on the second page, to remind me not to die here because obviously, their response time isn't that great.  Look up code blue.  Cardiopulmonary Arrest.  Interesting.

Wait about 15 minutes, nurse still gone.  Wait. Wait. Wait.  Nurse finally comes back, dresses Jason's wound, and sends us on our way.

The rain has stopped.  Drive back home to get clothes for Jason.  Rain picks up again.  Jason gets ready for work.  Quinn is asleep, so I get curious, and peek into the garage, glass is everywhere: in the washer, in front of the washer, all over the clothes, in the laundry sorter, halfway across the garage on the concrete.  Everywhere.

Get Jason to work, raining heavily, try to get him as close to the door as possible.  Good thing he has an umbrella.  Drive back home.  Raining harder and harder.  Pull into the driveway, and decide to wait out the rain a bit.  Worst decision of the last hour.  Rain keeps coming.  Harder and harder.  Soon, I can't even see the neighbors yard because there's just so much rain.  Rain lets up for about 20 seconds.  I decide I'm going to cover Quinn as best I can, and book it to the door.  Cover her, but I'm short, and... well short, and its nearly impossible for me to get her car seat out in one foul swoop, much less do it quickly.  Fail miserably.  Soaking wet.  Finally get her out of the car, still covered, yes!  Huge gust of wind comes, and blows the blanket halfway off Quinn, she gets rained on, and she is PISSED.  Finally make it inside.

Safe and sound.

Jason is alive.  Quinn is alive.  I am alive.

Crazy night.

P.S.  Parenting tip #22134 - Never leave your diaper bag unstocked.  The second you get home, restock it, you will be glad you did, so when the occasion arises... you will be prepared (unlike me.)

Short story long.

I usually sensor myself online to make it pleasant for everyone, and it’s so much easier to do than in real life, but I have to seriously ask this:  WHAT THE FUCK LIFE?   WHAT.  THE.  FUCK?

So last week, because he has universal blood and he loves doing good (for once, haha) Jason stayed a little late after his shift at work for a blood drive.  What a nice guy, right?  Well, since the tunnels aren’t open when he gets to work, or on his lunch break (which is 4 am), he parks in front of his work instead of the designated parking area for his company.  This is ok because he gets off at 9 am, and parks in the 1-hour time limit spaces that start at 8 am.  Well, the morning he gives blood, guess who comes out in full force?  The parking Nazi!  (Hey, the entire town knows him by this; it wasn’t me who gave him the name.)  So Jason was parked in the same spot he parked in when he got to work, for safety reasons, and guess who gets a parking violation.  Jason!  Yay for him.  Thanks for donating your blood that saves lives, now pay your ticket.  Luckily, this is a small town, and his ticket was only $15 as long as we paid in within 10 days, but that’s not the point.  The point is, is that Jason did something nice, something that helps people, and he did it out of the kindness of his heart.  No one asked, he’s not helping someone he knows, he’s helping complete strangers, just because he can… and this is what happens.  I realize that he was in the wrong.  But seriously… why that day?  Why?

This brings me to my next kick in the face by that backstabbing bitch, Karma.  For my Mother’s Day present, all I wanted was pictures of my daughter.  Getting him to schedule anything was useless, as it is now three weeks past Mother’s day, and here I am telling you this story about not getting them done.  (Still.)  It was like pulling teeth getting him to commit to anything, or call anyone.  Last week, early in the week, he called Sears, we wanted to see what all we get when we schedule an appointment with them, like, do we get outfit changes, do we get to set up our own pictures (within reason) etc.  They never called us back.  So I started looking at other options in the area.  By options, I of course mean the one other place in town that does pictures.  Wal-Mart.  Why on earth I thought this was a good idea is beyond me.  I don’t know if it’s in every Wal-Mart or not, but they have a photo studio called Picture Me.  Looked online, looked professional enough, pretty comparable to Sears, so I went with it, I scheduled the appointment at 6 pm because that would give him enough time to get home from work, sleep for almost 8 hours, and get up to come with me to get the pictures done.  (P.S.  Babies may be small, but they are mighty, and oh my gosh do they require a lot of crap to even leave the house.)

Nothing, I mean nothing in my life can be easy.  So last night Quinn was sick, and miserable again, which means I was miserable again, until about 6 am.  Exhausted.  Since this was the 3^rd time this week that she had been sick like this Jason called the doctor when he got home, we scheduled an appointment for 2:30, and we crashed out.  Of course being crashed out only meant an hour of sleep for both of us, and Quinn was up again.  By the time she got calmed down, it was about noon, so I knew I had to be up to get ready, and get her ready.  By this time, Jason was wide-awake too, so no sleep for either of us.  Super!  We take her to the doctor, which takes forever; we don’t get out of there until almost 4.  Grab some food, go home to relax for a bit.  Get Quinn fed so that she doesn’t spit up on her outfit (hopefully) iron her little dress, get the props we want to use and head out the door.  We get to the photo studio about 15 minutes early.  Packed.  Looks like a large group (about 6) is wrapping up their order, making their purchases.  Stand there for 45 minutes with another couple.  Photographer finally pops her head out, and asks if she can help us.  Yes!  That would be great.  Say that we were the 6 o’clock appointment (it's now 6:30), and she says oh it will just be a little bit, when we tell her the other couple was there before us, she says that they know what’s going on, apologizes to them because she will have to take us first since we had an appointment, which they nod to us / her in understanding, and says she will be with us shortly.  Banter back and forth with the other couple.  Turns out when they got there, at 5, the people who were “finishing up” had been “finishing up” since then, and they were still picking out their stuff an hour and a half later.  At about 6, after lots of chit chatting (and taking up all the chairs for their family—including their empty baby carrier, with total disregard for the other 4 people standing around waiting on them, they were finally done.  We felt bad for the people who had been waiting for an hour, and they said they only wanted two poses, and knew exactly what they wanted.  Quinn was sleeping so Jason let them go ahead of us.  I’ll cut this already long story short by saying they got a lot more than 2 poses, and after sitting in the photo studio for almost 3 hours, Quinn had her diaper changed 6 times, her outfit changed, and had been fed, and was now hungry, and screaming, and the people were STILL not done picking out the pictures that they “only wanted two poses of” and ended up getting a huge package and couldn’t even decide what size sheets they wanted.  I was so pissed, Quinn was hungry, and crying (understandably) so I went to the bathroom to clear my head for a second, came back, told Jason loudly that we were leaving because there was no way in hell I was paying a lot of money for pictures of my daughter crying, and we packed up everything.  It wasn’t until we were actually physically foot-out-the-door of their little cubbyhole that the photographer asked us if something was wrong.  I glared at her, told her we would reschedule as we walked away, and she apologized for the delay.  Really?  Its eight fucking thirty and you choose NOW to apologize.  You close at seven.  My appointment was at six, I realize that we were stupid enough to be nice to people and let them go in front of us, but what the fuck?  I have a two month old child, who literally didn’t cry for the first 2 ½ hours.  I’d say we did pretty well.  Even a camera wielding 5 year-old could manage time better than that.  Never again.

We got home, and again, another break down.  I’m pretty sure I could solve any droughts with the amounts of tears that I’ve shed this week.  All I wanted was pictures of my daughter for Mother’s Day.  It’s June now, and we have nothing scheduled, nothing on the horizon, and I really don’t have any hope that it will get done, and that if we are fortunate enough to get something scheduled in the near future, I know that will be the day when Quinn decides that she’s not having it.

Ugh.

These past two weeks have made me never want to do anything nice for anyone again.  I don’t expect anything in return for doing nice things for people… but I do kind of expect to not be screwed in the process.  Is that too much to ask?