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Since I started grad school, there have been certain periods that are more hectic than others. There’s more homework for both the husband and I or a test or a paper is due and conveniently those periods tend to coincide with especially hectic periods at work. During those times, I chuck real cooking to the side and feed my family convenience foods, stuff not purchased from the healthy, whole perimeter of the grocery store, but rather in the bloated and evil middle shelves where the processed and boxed and pre-cooked items that shamelessly flaunt their preservatives and their sodium and their high fructose corn syrup live.

This week we have a perfect storm of food challenges: busy at work, busy at school, taxes for tuition are coming out of my paycheck, and we’ve not yet received our tax refund or heard any word on the student loan that I applied for. So we’re busy and kinda poor (more than usual). Last night we had to go to the store. Not only were we out of dinner options, I was out of contact lens solution, the cat was out of litter (stink), and the baby was out of waffles and dear lord that kid can not go a day without waffles.

Since we weren’t going to get home until about 7:30, I grabbed a boxed, Complete Meal to make for dinner. I started “cooking” that while the baby and the husband worked on homework. The box called for 2 1/4 cups of hot water. I measured that out, then had to pour it out because there was a cat hair in the measuring cup, then once again because I used cold water instead of hot.

Dudes. Cooking is hard.

I decided to add some “nutrition” to our meal by heating up a can of green beans and then we sat down on the couch to watch TV and eat our all-American meal by the light of the Penguins game.

Looking at the bright orange Three Cheese Chicken and the dull green beans, I felt pretty bad I wasn’t feeding them all things fresh, organic, and nutritious. But the baby dug in and turned to me and said, “You cook things the best, Mum.”

And that right there made me feel like Anthony fucking Bourdain. Sure, the food is shitty, but I cook it with love. And that’s what matters.

Plus, we don’t starve to death. Always a good result.

Later, after I started to drool in bed, the husband came in and whipped the covers off of me to “fix” them, since he insists that I don’t do it right. I groaned at the shock of the cold, but in my sleepy state, I felt him lay the covers back down on top of me and then brush the hair out of my face.

I think those guys might keep me around, even if I’m not going to win any Woman/Mom/Wife of the Year awards.

I watched: Waitress, which was cute and I really liked all of the actors, but the plot felt uh, half-baked (snicker); The Darjeeling Limited, which I really liked…”We went on a spiritual journey, but that didn’t really pan out…”; Re-Animator, which The Prestige ripped off hardcore for its cat scenes; the latest episode of The Wire, which just blew my mind and made me cry about three different times.

I made: banana cupcakes with honey-cinnamon frosting. They were very good, though I thought the frosting was a tad too sweet. I’ll probably add more cinnamon next time.

I slept: a total of 18 hours between Friday night and Sunday morning. It was so needed. I actually feel not like death today.

Obviously, I’m very happy that the Patriots loss. Do not like that team at all. As we watched the last minute or so, I said that the only way this victory could be sweeter is if it was the Steelers doing the defeating. Then the husband said that the Steelers could never beat the Patriots in a Super Bowl and I said that that wasn’t the point, it would still be sweeter, and he said that I had no point because it’s not possible and then I stabbed him in the neck. At least he’s quiet now.

What I thought was the most telling moment was when Bill Bellichick walked off of the field before the game was technically over. Real coaches go down with their ship, Billy. To the bitter end. Punks walk off with their heads down.

And it was pretty cool to see Plaxico Burress getting a big win. I like that guy, even if things didn’t work out with him when he was here.

ANYWAY, the other big victory tonight were these:

Green tea cupcakes with pomegranate frosting. Motherfuckers.

Hmm, I’m not sure why her frosting is off-white and ours is rosy pink, but whatever. It tastes good as hell. Bolt found that recipe the other day and today I declared that we had to make them. Bolt had the unfortunate task of procuring matcha powder. Obviously, she could have found it in an Asian market in the Strip but we had no idea what the hours were for those, so Bolt battled crowds and less-than-knowledgeable staff at Giant Eagle and Whole Foods, before recruiting the help of a friend at Starbucks.

One note about those. The recipe is for mini cupcakes and we made full size ones. The 12-minute baking time in the recipe isn’t enough, but I can tell you that 17 minutes is entirely too long. I think about 14 was the right amount of time for these. Go forth. Bake.

Cause I have much baked goods in my house at the moment.

Starting at the bottom of the pic, those round foil pans of delicious are cinnamon rolls that I made for my co-workers (you also wish you worked with me). The lumpy things in the muffin pan are Pear and Granola Muffins. The cookies on the plate next to the muffins are Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip Cookies. And the cookies at the end of the table are Lemon Basil Cookies.

Full disclosure: I am not totally responsible for all of this. Mary came over last night and helped me bake and that kinda looked like Mary being a whirling dervish in the kitchen and me in the dining room agonizing over just how much flour I should sprinkle my work surface with. Mary bakes much more often than I do so she was much more at ease cracking eggs and creaming butter and whatnot. And to be fair, I was working with YEAST. And yeast is alive. And I don’t take working on living things lightly. So, yeah, our final tally was Mary: Lemon Basil cookies, Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip cookies, Pear and Granola muffins; Kelly: Cinnamon Rolls.

Also, I won’t tell you how much butter we used. Just trust me that it was obscene.

The baby was helping, clad in his chef hat. I should have taken pictures but I was busy staring intently at the yeast. Then he fell off of his stool that he was standing on. Sigh. He changed into some sweatpants and retired to the couch for the evening, where he and the husband watched Shaolin Soccer. I really thought he would just pass out there, but was surprised to find him still awake at 10:00. Awesome.

The biggest surprise of this batch were the Lemon Basil cookies. I got the recipe for those from my friend Sheryl after she mentioned them on her blog the other day. Oh my god. They’re so good. We used dried basil but I imagine they would taste even yummier with the fresh stuff. We also used golden raisins in place of currants, but I think the raisins were a little too sweet. I would really like to try them with some dried cranberries.

What’s that? You want to see more cookie pr0n? Well, I’m happy to oblige… (more…)

The baby and I got up and started watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. You know, that parade actually kinda sucks. I guess I’ve never really paid attention to it before. I like the balloons. And the Rockettes. But the endless stream of mediocre high school bands from, like, Wichita (no offense) and Baldwin, and the utterly shite musical “performances” are just depressing. We watched Dolly Parton, Lifehouse, and Menudo…how irrelevant can you get? We were cringing through a number from the Hairspray musical and the baby just couldn’t take it anymore. “I hate this,” he said. I had to agree with him.

So we turned on some Mister Roger’s Neighborhood and that was way better. We got to see some canned vegetable soup being made!

We have to get ready to go soon, which will be interesting because some time between late last night and this morning I hurt my shoulder and now I can’t really lift my arm. How does my body just decide to be injured?

I did a little pre-game last night by binging on Tomato Mozzarella Pringles (they’re alright) and some chicken nuggets. And some rum with Diet Dr. Pepper. Ballin’! We watched the Weeds season finale (a few days late) and this new Paul Mooney DVD that we got called Analyzing White America. Some already-used material but still hilarious.

Everyone have a nice day!

The kindergarten classes at the baby’s school had a little Thanksgiving pageant thing today. I was pretty excited for it…so excited, in fact, that I left the house without some key accessories: my purse, which housed my wallet and my phone, and my camera. I also left some yummy leftover spaghetti at the house that I had planned to eat for lunch but, figuring I would have my wallet, decided on my way out the door that I would just buy something for lunch.

I blame this partially on the fact that I had a paper due today and when I left the house this morning it was only 1/3 done. That kind of thing is distracting. For what it’s worth, I just turned the paper in and I’m pretty confident that it sucks. But mentally I’m in no position to make it any better. Oh, well.

The pageant was extremely cute. I know it’s instinctual to groan at the idea of kids dressed up in homemade costumes and singing songs all off-key and distracted. But as a parent it was the best thing I’ve seen all year. I absolutely can not wait to go to every single one of those corny things.

The baby was a turkey and many of the songs that they sang were about eating turkey or the turkey’s sneaky methods for avoiding the oven. They sounded cute but really what kind of morbid shit is that? It’s all very close to this.

There were also pilgrims and, of course, “Indians.” I really couldn’t believe when the principal referred to them that way. Perpetuating Thanksgiving myths is one thing. Using terms for people that are known to be offensive is another.

I was very sad not to have my camera, nonetheless. But I managed to persuade some staff members to hook me up with some doubles and whatnot.

On a completely unrelated note, there is apparently a stomach virus going around these parts. This I am not at all cool with. Several faculty members were out yesterday and my officemate just went home sick after ralphing in the bathroom. I now get to be paranoid because I’m irrationally terrified of the stomach virus* and being that close to someone who might have it makes me very, very uneasy.

However, said officemate had lunched on leftover shrimp from Red Lobster, so I’m hoping it was just that. And seriously, how little regard can you have for your gastrointestinal integrity if you’re eating leftover shrimp from Red Lobster. Ugh. It’s like a 20/20 undercover report just waiting to happen.

I’m mostly worried because I’ve been talking about how much I’m going to eat on Thursday for about two months and if I have to miss it, or worse, barf it all up unintentionally afterward, I’m going to be extremely pissed.

*Everyone hates me for this.

Okay, so, besides the fact that there’s a devilish looking cat staring him down, do you think our betta fish is dying?

I guess it’s “dropsy.” Initially we thought there was no hope, but this site suggests that he might be treated. Erghhh. I’m afraid to move him or do anything because…well, I’m afraid he’ll explode or something.

Poor fishie.

While I fret over that, I will tell you that I’ve previously claimed that my favorite breakfast (maybe even my favorite meal) is a bagel, cream cheese, and a big ass coffee. I must revise that statement. My favorite breakfast is a sandwich consisting of a toasted bagel, fried egg, and a slice of bright orange American cheese…and a big ass coffee. And that is precisely what I made myself for breakfast this morning.

And God said, “Let there be bagel egg and cheese sandwiches and big ass cups of coffee,” and there were bagel, egg and cheese sandwiches and big ass cups of coffee. And it was good.

Genesis 1:5,348,478

It goes back to when I worked at this record store in college. Not a cool, indie record store, mind you. A corny, corporate one that, despite all the suggestions to the contrary, kept raising their prices as mp3s grew in popularity and is now defunct. Anyway, I used to have to open the store and set up for the day and would normally get everything done a good half hour before it was time to open. So I would go next door to Bruegger’s and get a bagel sandwich and a coffee. I would go back to the store, lock the door, put some Radiohead or some Miles Davis on, cuddle up on the floor behind the counter and chow down. Best job ever.

I have homework that I’m avoiding, so I’ve been incredibly domestic the past two days. The baby had to go to a classmate’s birthday party yesterday afternoon, but after that was over, we came back home and casually started decorating the outside of the house for Halloween.

There’s no real “theme” here obviously, unless you count, “I had a bunch of stuff in the basement that my grandmother bequeathed to me in one of those ‘I may not be around much longer’ purges so I just used most of it,” as a theme. But to spice it up, I purchased some new lights at CVS.

Tacky Fancy, no? Also, the baby was in charge of window displays.

This required me to do some actual cleaning, with Windex and paper towels and squeegees. It was pretty exciting.

I’m cleaning off and on today. I also baked some banana bread (sans walnuts and raisins) so I wouldn’t have to throw away some abandoned bananas that were attracting fruit flies and being all brown and mushy and gross.

The baby kept taking bites of my slice so I finally gave him his own. He ate about four bites and then about 3 seconds after I took that picture he told me he didn’t like the banana bread. Whatever, dude.

This guy was just thrilled with my cleaning, as he gets to coat everything anew in grey fur. I also unearthed some tiny green fuzzy ball which he has been attacking all afternoon. I’m glad I made him happy. It’s the least I can do to thank him for standing on my neck around 4:00 this morning. That was my favorite thing ever.

My weekend kind of failed. I had grand plans to do all of my homework and reading for the week since I am way behind, do all of the laundry, go grocery shopping, watch the Steelers game, and eat some yummy dinner.

None of that happened. We went out on Friday. Our friends Curt and Amanda are moving to Atlanta on Wednesday and were having a going away party at Remedy in Lawrenceville. I had a good time. I got some drinking done and then a big group of us went to Eat n Park for late night noshing with plastic cups and no silverware. It was awesome. I felt…well, probably like how normal 28-year-olds feel.

My mom came over on Saturday. She and I are not really getting along at the moment and I was in a bad mood because I got a letter from our insurance company stating that since someone jimmied my front window open while I asleep and took a bunch of my shit, my premium is going up. Thanks, dudes! My mom wanted to, like, do stuff besides lie on the couch and nap, so that took up most of Saturday. I did get a big chunk of reading done, though.

But see, Sunday…the baby woke up kind of early and did his usual nagging to get me out of bed before 8 a.m. I don’t know. That kid must really like hearing the words, “Hell,” and “No.” Everything was normal. When I finally came downstairs, I gave him some cereal. He ate a few bites and then curled up on the couch. I asked him what was wrong and he said he wasn’t feeling good…and then all hell broke loose, intestinally speaking. There was puke. There was watery poop. There was even a nosebleed in the midst of all of that. He took a long nap while I washed soiled underwear and tried not to gag. He felt better when he woke up, like it never happened. I don’t understand how kids do that. When I throw up I’m out of commission for the rest of the day. But I’m also a pussy.

I started making some dinner and then worked on an essay when the Steelers came on. The husband spent the next three hours screaming at the TV while I typed away and checked the turkey, which was not cooking. See, I had a frozen turkey breast and didn’t defrost it and oh, I’m an idiot. I did some supplementary cooking of that, so we have dinner for tonight already, but last night we feasted on leftover mashed potatoes, ramen, and pita.

I never did get around to the laundry, really. I washed and dried two loads but they’re sitting in a pile in the laundry room, wrinkling away. We have some food, but I’m really low on WW-friendly stuff.

Ugh. Too much. I’m really hating myself for taking this particular combination of courses. The work load is insane. I keep thinking maybe I should drop one, but I would probably just be prolonging some future hellish fall semester. I’m so cranky nowadays, though.

But the weekend wasn’t total shite. Besides Friday’s tomfoolery, some nice pictures were taken. I snapped this one on Friday night:

Every now and then, I let the baby use the digital camera. He normally takes pictures like this:

You know…still lifes with Godzilla, toilet paper, and remote controls. But on Saturday he managed to snap this very nice picture of our cat:

Bonus: fingerprint dusting from CSI. I guess I should wipe that off. But maybe I’ll leave it so I can point to it and go, “That’s right, bitch,” and impress guests. Isn’t that a nice picture, though? I want to get him a camera for his birthday or xmas. I could get him one of those Fisher-Price joints, but it would be nice if he could make little movies with it, too. Like he told Jamie, “I’ve started making my own Godzilla movies.” You know, branching out from astute observer to director.

Oh, that reminds me. In recounting some of the details of the break-in to a friend, the baby lamented the theft of his piggy bank, sighed, and very seriously said, “Now I ain’t got no cash.”

We had a little resume workshop in my class this morning and of course our prof came over and listened in on my group while we were looking at my resume and cover letter. After she left, there was an uncomfortable silence as we all wondered just how I managed to not kill myself getting out of the shower everyday, now that my utter stupidity has been displayed for all to see in the form of subject-verb disagreement. Simply put, I wrote my cover letter in lolcat. “I haz batchlurs. I will haz masturs. I can haz job now plz?”

In other words, I’ve been a little busy and my work, all areas of it, are suffering. I knew the cover letter was going to be a piece of shit, mostly because when I tried to recall when I wrote it, I simply could not remember. Luckily, the day job will ease up slightly in the next week or so and I might not flunk out of my grad program. Now I just need to remember where I left my kid…

In cooking news, I made Stovetop Cheddar Mac last night. It was certainly inferior to the homemade stuff that Jwan makes, but it was quick and easy and it hit the spot. I added a couple generous sprinkles of cayenne pepper to brighten the flavor a bit. The other night I made Apricot Poppy Chicken which was really REALLY good. The baby declared it “the best dinner I’ve ever eated.” So there. Also, the new issue of Everyday Food arrived at our house yesterday and there are so many awesome cool-weather recipes this month. They feature meat loaf and I curse any available deities that my husband hates meat loaf, cause I need a baked pile of ground beef with a Heinz ketchup glaze in my life, goddammit.