Milk carton races

So we went to the milk carton races this morning at the Westmoreland park and it was beautiful weather (last year it was blazing hot). It was slightly overcast probably in the high 60's but otherwise nice. While we were there I picked up a free publication that Darigold was giving away that had some great recipes. One I noticed that I was very interested in was a tart with chocolated and salted caramel that I figured would be nice to make for Eytan's birthday which is coming up in September (actually, everybody's birthday is coming up in September, Eytan, Sam and Ayelet) so maybe it would be nice to make for Sam's birthday as well. At any rate, as I finished reading the recipe at the end it said it makes six six inch tarts (makes 12 servings). That's right: 12 servings!! Each midgie tartlet is two flipping servings! That's nuts!! So, you should take one bite and pass the remaining half to another. Or I must look for 3" tartlet pan...craziness.

The most disturbing driver ever!

So the other day as I went for a walk with Ayelet to Piccolina I saw the most disturbing driver ever: an elderly woman with a handicap tag in her window texting and driving barreling to a stop sign in a residential neighborhood. Now, although texting and driving is a punishable offense, I feel pretty certain she is not the person the legislature sought to prevent from such conduct when drafting the law against the conduct. However, she is even more frightening than a distracted teen. If I could have executed some sort of citizens arrest, I would have.

Why does my husband have the common sense of a G-d d*mn squirrel?

And why in the middle of the night when I ask him a question that seems rather straight forward does he repeat it back to me as if it were a rhetorical question? Nothing irks me more, but yet he seems to have an amazing ability for disturbing this nerve.

Really now, most moms know how their child sleeps and when their baby is crying what crying will lead to sleep and what crying will require a bit more action. So, the other night our 8 month old who sleeps in our room in her crib started crying after I put her in her crib. The crying was rather mild, not a 10 by any stretch of the imagination; rather I'd say a 5 but she was so tired it was teetering closer to a 4. Within moments she was ratcheting down to a 4 where she hovered for a couple minutes. But, her whimpers were becoming farther and farther apart, clear indicators that she was on the road to a peaceful slumber a process which requires a bit of patience on my part as well, but Sam seemed asleep so his patience seemed an inherent non sequitor. As I started to drift off to sleep myself, Sam in his infinite wisdom got up to get Ayelet. Of course the effort to "comfort" her merely caused more distress and screaming causing her whimpering which was down to a 2 to skyrocket back up to an 8 on the screaming scale in record time (beat that Astin Martin). "Good job at effing that up, Sam" to which he replies, "eff up? what did I eff up?" Good night.