Yesterday Mikey announced he had created a recipe in his head that he would like to make for dinner and “I want you to take pictures of it and put it on your website, okay, mom?  Then I want you to tell me what the people say.”

So that’s exactly what we did.  This isn’t the first recipe Mikey’s come up with and not the first time he has expressed an interest in cooking.  Last week he developed a tomato and carrot salad that he instructed me to roast for exactly one minute.  I have to say, it tasted great! (But I did roast it for longer than one minute.)

Last night we ate pasta tossed with olive oil, sauteed mushrooms, roasted butternut squash, spinach, and carrots.  We added many seasonings and decided as a team to leave out the dried mustard and garlic chili powder.  It needed a little more flavor, so we ended up drizzling it all with balsamic vinegar.

It wasn’t until he was looking at the pictures I took (he printed one out for show and tell today) that it occurred to him you would be reviewing his work in the kitchen.  I could tell that he suddenly wasn’t so sure of his idea to share with everyone his creation.

“Are the people going to give me a grade, mama?”

“I’m sure they will just tell you that your recipe looks delicious.”

And it was.  I had the leftovers for lunch.

I know I have many readers who don’t have children.  I can only assume my adventures as a less than perfect stay at home mom provide some sort of birth control, wherein I promptly shrivel ovaries quivering in anticipation after reading, say, Amanda Soule.  Well, allow me to be of service once again by dolling out little pointers here and there that other moms may neglect to dispense.

There is a proper way to get on and off an escalator with a stroller.  Actually, there are two proper ways to get on and off an escalator with a stroller, one better than the other.  Not only are there two ways, the technique also varies with the type of stroller in use.

But first, the rules.  There is really only one rule, and that is that you should not do this if the escalator is even a bit crowded.  As you will see, the process is fraught potential for disaster.

Technique No. 1 {For use with heavy and light strollers}

The Heavy Stroller

If you have a large, heavy stroller you can approach the escalator head on.  The choice to pop a wheelie as you get on is your choice, but definitely do so once you and the stroller are securely on the escalator.  As you approach the bottom of the escalator, keep the front wheels up.  Drop the front wheels onto the floor once the back wheels hit the escalator return (I have no idea if that’s what it’s called, but I’m talking about the part where the escalator disappears into that little tunnel thing) and start walking.  Sometimes the back wheels will get caught in the return (enough–that’s what I’ve decided to call that thing) and if they do, your stroller should be heavy enough that you can plow your way forward.  If not, lift the back wheels slightly and move forward on the front wheels.  Easy.

The Umbrella Stroller

An umbrella stroller is the cheap, hammock like device your parents stuffed you in as a child.  They are ugly, cost less than $20, and frequently used for travel.  A rookie mom would never touch an umbrella stroller because they are, again, cheap, ugly, and cheap.  Then, one day, rookie mom goes on vacation or Disneyland or someplace similar.  Loath to take her $400 behemoth, she buys an umbrella stroller to use, “just this one time.”  Uh-huh.  Whatever you say, Lindsey Lohan.  Because once you do the one-handed fold and toss in 2.3 cubic feet of space, you’re done.

Now, as handy as these strollers are, they are light and flimsy.  They don’t have the weight behind them to plow through a crowd, let alone an escalator return.  So, for that reason, you should get on the escalator backwards.  You get on the escalator first, umbrella stroller second.  You will naturally pop a wheelie in order to do this.  When you reach the bottom of the escalator, you disembark first and pull the stroller (with both hands) behind you, wheelie style.  Only when you and the stroller are both completely off the escalator do you put the front wheels on the ground.  Easy.

You don’t ever want to try going down an escalator with an umbrella stroller ahead of you, at least not with a 27 pound toddler in the hammock.  You’re just asking for trouble, which is why I muttered an expletive when I found myself doing exactly that a couple of weeks ago.

A complete and total rookie mistake made while I was trying to kill time before I could pick Mikey up from school.  I watched the return approach and appraised the situation.  Thirty pounds of Nicholas, a 3 year old umbrella stroller, and an escalator from the 70s.  I was screwed.

I did the best I could.  I popped a high wheelie and pushed.  Hard.

A reader once asked me how I could admit to so many embarrassing stories on my blog; how I could confess doing things she wouldn’t admit to anyone.  Well, I have three reasons.  Number one, I think most of the stories are pretty darn funny, and if you can’t laugh at yourself, you can’t laugh at anything.  Number two, I’m not perfect, and I wouldn’t want to give the impression that my life is a pile of love notes and freshly baked bread.  Number three, there is no way on God’s green earth that you can convince me that I am the only mom who has done something really stupid like take an umbrella stroller down an escalator.  So, knowing this, I know that you know exactly what happened when I popped a high wheelie and pushed the stroller hard.

That is, absolutely nothing.

It didn’t move.

Maybe the front wheels  moved.  In opposite directions.

So I activated the emergency landing sequence.  I kicked the ever living heck out of the undercarriage in an attempt to lift all four wheels off the floor.  And, like most emergency sequences, it worked to a certain degree.  One half of the stroller moved forward, meaning I then had to repeat the sequence for the half that remained behind.  Unfortunately, I was out of time and I had to hop a bit to avoid the stroller.  So I hopped.  Or, rather, I did the famous dog leg.  You know.  I’ve seen other moms do it.  The dog leg is when  you have to kind of hop/step over your stroller so that you are alongside the stroller.  It’s not unique to escalators.  I’ve seen it used in public restrooms, restaurants, and Gymboree stores nationwide during Gym-Buck time.

It was my last chance at getting off the escalator with any sort of dignity.

It was an epic fail.

Things were looking good until the toe of my right sneaker got caught on my enormous hobo bag hanging off the stroller.  Stupid hobo bag.  There I am, at the bottom of the escalator, hopping up and down on the landing pad with the toe of my shoe caught in the strap of my purse.  The purse was like quicksand, by the way.  The more I moved my foot, the more I sank into its leathery depths.  And!  Remember!  (Not you, rookie mom.  You, the one with the umbrella stroller.)  Think about where those stroller handles hit.  Exactly.  Now I am hopping on an escalator landing with my foot in a bag and my “particulars” practically straddling the right stroller handle.

This all happened in the course of 10 seconds, as disasters often do.  The only thing happening faster than my eminent demise was the rate at which my brain fired neurons.  I activated Emergency Sequence 3.5A, which as any seasoned mom knows, this means it’s all about to hit the fan.  I knew I had to propel the stroller off the landing or Nicholas would, once again, find himself nose to the ground and strapped in a stroller.  With the strength of 40 Dr. Kegels I hopped, pushed, and propelled myself off the landing.  Of course, it wasn’t pretty.  I had one foot in my bag, you see.  So, like a boat with a broken rudder, I moved forward in circles, donut-ing my way onto the store floor.  Starksy and Hutch would have been proud.

Now on the open floor, I had enough room to easily extricate my foot from the bag.  But, first, I looked up to see my score.  I was expecting to see employees holding numbered cards (all 10s, please!), perhaps a few managers laughing in their coffees.  But, no.  The store was deserted and no one witnessed my ingenuity.  Thank goodness.

Technique No. 2 {For use with heavy and light strollers}

Take the elevator.

It looks like Mikey might have the flu or a very bad cold. His fever is about 103-104, but he was in good spirits all through the night, especially when we played parachute with the sheet around 3:30am (I was only trying to fan him, but he started giggling so I kept doing it.)

I will be off the computer today and maybe tomorrow, so if you feel the world counter rotate, you now know why. I don’t want to alarm you, but I am pretty sure the world is going to end if I don’t check my email every 10 seconds. Just start organizing your affairs–that’s all I’m saying.

In the meantime, I hope all is well with you and yours. If you could perhaps send prayers or positive thoughts in our direction, they would be most appreciated. I might even send you bread.

Even if it’s midnight, and you’re tired, and you can’t really draw so your attempt at barrel curls winds up looking like a follicular tsunami, I recommend you hide a love note in the lunch pail of any little boy heading off to his first school field trip. And, when he stays home sick and misses said field trip, let him find it when he later eats his lunch. I can almost guarantee the response will be priceless, and when you return to your desk after everyone is down for a nap, you just might find something like this on your keyboard.

It isn’t easy writing love notes when you barely know your sight words, but the message came through loud and clear for me. :)

Did Mama
Love Mama
Mikey Love Mama

You’ll have to indulge me for a moment while I act like Mikey just accomplished something no other 5 year old has in the history of the world.  He had his first recital today and he did great!  Since I never said one word in kindergarten, I was nervous at the prospect of him reciting a nursery rhyme from memory in front of a room full of parents and students.

Of course, every parent in the room was nervous, and when it was time for their child to go up on stage, there wasn’t a mother in the room that wasn’t reciting her child’s nursery rhyme under her breath.  Some kids panicked and cried, others refused to go up.  The funniest moment came when the teacher called out one little boy named Christian S.

Teacher: Okay, let’s see who’s next.  It’s Christian S., please.

Christian S.: OH, GOD! NO!

And that was all Christian S. had to say about that.  He wouldn’t go up, even when the group of kids surrounding him said things like, “You can do it, Christian!”  “It’s not that bad, I promise!”  “Come on, Christian, it’s okay!  You can do it!”  It was all very sweet, and ten kids later, Christian S. finally did slither his way onto the stage.  And I do mean slither.  He dragged himself up like a dying man in the desert, laying for just a brief second on the stage before hoisting himself up on trembling legs.  Finally he got up and gave one long look up to the sky as if begging God to split the ground beneath his feet and swallow him up whole.  I have no idea what he said into the microphone, but he said something and we applauded loudly.

Of course, maybe I didn’t understand what he said because the kids were reciting the most obscure, nonsensical nursery rhymes I have ever heard in my life.  There were kids talking about mushy clouds, cats in Paris, and bats eating bacon and cake.  Little Miss Muffet and her Tuffet, apparently, are just too ordinary for these jaded five year olds.

Nicholas behaved himself well enough during the hour long recital, so long as he was allowed to scroll through pictures of dinosaurs on The Mister’s phone or take out every single item I have ever thought to shove in my wallet.  That reminds me, I should put my wallet back together again or I will have to upend my purse to find my ATM card the next time I am at the store.

Poor thing, all he wants is to hang out with Mikey and his friends, and here I am trying to subject him to the indignity of a family picture.

And, because 477 words and 15 pictures of Mikey holding a microphone isn’t enough for me to hammer home to everyone that Mikey had his first recital and didn’t leave the stage screaming, I have included a phenomenally bad video taken with The Mister’s phone.  I am not the least bit worried about the security of minors on the internet because you can’t see anything.  It’s as if the recital took place in a foggy field of heather in Scotland, but I don’t care because you can hear Mikey recite what must be one of the more disturbing rhymes of the bunch.  You can also hear Nicholas whining in the background (The Mister having taken away the phone so he could record Mikey) and me giving the biggest sigh of relief that is was over with my nerves intact.

Bat, bat, come under my hat

And I’ll give you a slice of bacon

And when I bake, I’ll give you a cake

If I am not mistaken

Click here to watch the video that I can’t figure out how to upload properly.

Both Mikey and Nico are left handed.  The Mister and I are not.  Any of you south-paws have any tips on how to teach little ones how to hold their pens and pencils correctly and write their letters?  Mikey can do most of them, but the school books teach from a right-hander’s perspective, and he gets tangled up with lower case Ys and Es.  He can write them, they just look a little goofy. :)

Having just polished off a snack of bananas, crackers, and two pilfered cookies, The Nefarious Captain Sweet Tooth was ready to embark upon a wild adventure in search a long lost sea faring buddy rumored to be held captive by a rogue pack of nuns.

With bounty in hand, he commanded the ship head due north and declared his mission:  The return of his mate in exchange for one or two authentic, licensed characters from a high-octane adventure comedy. Slightly dinged and scratched, just to play hardball.

The mission was a success, and The Nefarious Captain Sweet Tooth was able to secure his mate without having to part with his bounty.

But it was still exhausting work.

p.s. That stain? News to me. I suggest all moms turn around in their seats and take pictures of their car interior. You never know what you’ve been missing.  {Shudder.}