Italian Tortellini Soup

1.5 lbs ground beef (could substitute Italian sausage)
1 cup chopped onion
2 cloves garlic 1 tbs oregano
1 tbs basil Pinch of black pepper
1 28 ounce can of chopped tomatoes
1 quart spaghetti sauce (I use my homemade)
3 cups Vegatable broth
2 cups H20
1 lb frozen cheese tortellini
3 cups fresh baby spinach
Parmesan cheese for garnish

Brown ground beef with onions. Add garlic, oregano, basil, and pepper. Stir and cook for about 2 more minutes. Add everything BUT tortellini and spinach to crock-pot. Cook on high 4-6 hours. About 30 minutes before you are ready to eat, add tortellini and spinach. Cook on high for 30 minutes (or until tortellini floats. Sprinkle with grated parmesan. Serve with crusty bread.

Pooh-berty

Remember, this blog is about my sitcom worthy life. Well, tonight Gabe provided an Emmy worthy episode. With his permission, I share the story. I hope you laugh as much as I did.

We went to Pittsburgh Mills tonight to get my iPhone screen replaced. We then headed to a restaurant for dinner. On the way, we drove past the movie theater entrance to the mall. I saw a picture of the new Planet of the Apes movie and commented that those movies creep me out. Grace then said, “Not me, I want to see it.” Gabe chimed in and said, “Me too.” {Ok… now here is where it gets funny!} Gabe went on to say that he too wanted to see the movie and then told us, “After all, I’m nine and in four years I’ll have my puberty (or as he pronounced it, pooh-berty).” Steven and I both did the “what did he just say look” and started to laugh when Grace said, “Gabe, puberty starts when you start to use deodorant.” Gabe responded with, “You mean I already got my pooh-berty and no one told me?” I don’t think I have ever laughed so hard. I tried to explain that using deodorant doesn’t mean you’ve started puberty. It just means you have been hot and sweaty. From there, I think I was laughing too hard to know what was being said. He was relieved to know that he hasn’t gotten his pooh-berty yet.

Boys Will Be Boys Even When They're 43

It has been a while since I wrote about something funny. Today I am choosing to laugh because otherwise Steven might stay in the dog house for a long time. So, here goes…

We all got ready and were off to the mall. Steven backed the car up in our turning spot and instead of just pulling out as normal; he felt the need to do some fishtailing. Too bad for him, AND MY CAR, that he lost control and went over our bank into a few saplings. Scared the kids and made momma just a wee bit hot under the collar as he sat and laughed. Thankfully, the Venza is a pretty cool car and backed right out but when I made him get out and check for damage he was a little less giggly as he reported there was now paint missing from the bumper.

Like a kid, he tried to say, “I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident” HA! I said, “That’s like Bill Clinton saying it was an accident he soiled Monica’s dress. Meanwhile, we all know Mr. Clinton was up to something he shouldn’t have been!”

So, the Venza now has some paint missing and I have a story to tell. I told Steven at lunch that this was going to make it to the blog. He said, “I thought we’d just keep this between you and me.” HAHAHA

Happy day folks! Laugh as often as you can!

Welcome 2014

Missed half of Easter
Losing this fight
Can’t seem to see
Any light
The weight on my heart is heavy
It pulls me down
My will is fading
Need solid ground
The kids are so happy
I just want to share
Experience the peace
Breath the same air

I wrote the above in April. The next 7 or 8 months, I battled the worst period of Major Depression Disorder I have had to date. I have lived with depression on and off for years. People often don’t know how to take me. I hide a lot of it with humor and sometimes I just withdrawal. This period was filled with not only the depression but near crippling anxiety. In years past, I have worked with my doctor to figure out the best treatment. This year though, we had trouble figuring out what would be best and it got bad, very bad.

Thankfully, I have a great husband, mom, and friends that held my hand both figuratively and literally while I fought to keep my soul above water. There were times that were very dark. I was scared. I was referred by my doctor to a specialist and with her help I have found a combination of medicine that is working. I’m not 100% but I am so much better than I was.

I know that the fight against depression will be a battle until the day I die. It comes honestly through genetics on both sides of my family. I’ve kept quiet except for close friends but feel that sharing might help others who are going through the same thing. I encourage you to reach out and get help. Don’t let shame prevent you from finding a treatment that works for you. Depression is as much of an illness as cancer. It is not something you can “get over” or “move past”. It is a chemical imbalance that needs repaired through medical treatment.

So, here is to a better 2014. I pray for peace, laughter, joy, and continued healing.

I couldn’t make this up!

We live in the country and Gabe enjoys the luxury of being able to pee outside. He’s even been known to put his shoes on and go outside to pee… just because. Some might frown upon this activity but a boy’s “gotta” do what a boy’s “gotta” do… or at least that’s what I am told by my husband.

Well today, my little boy took things a few dozen steps further. Now, I know what you are thinking and thankfully, no, he didn’t poo outside. It’s even better than that.

Grace and Gabe were playing down in our unfinished basement while Steven and I were upstairs watching the Steeler’s game. The kids came upstairs giggling and Gabe proudly announced, “I peed in the litter box.” Yep, you read right. My jaw dropped and Steven simply started yelling, “NOOOOOOOO. You are not allowed to pee in the litter box!!!” There are certain phrases you don’t ever expect to have to say and I am sure, “You are not allowed to pee in the litter box” is one we never expected to utter.

Somehow Gabe thought he could point the finger at his sister. It was all her fault. Of course Grace was completely innocent and had absolutely not encouraged him (really? – HAHAHA). As the chaos of this fine Schrecengost conversation ensued, I have to admit, while Steven is being the tough cop and doing the yelling, I am on the couch laughing so hard it hurts. I mean, how did we get here? Gabe is Gabe but what kid doesn’t understand that a cat litter box is for a cat and not for a little boy? But, then again, it’s Gabe and with him I should know to expect the unexpected and laugh when I can because his world is special and he sees things through the eyes of an ornery little boy!

The Boob in the Bra Section

I am not a shopper. I do it when I have to and I do it quickly. I like to get in and out.

Today, there was a need. I was down to two bras both of which were thread barren. As much as I hate to shop, I especially hate to shop for bras. Bra shopping sucks because you can’t buy one bra one size and another bra in the EXACT same size and expect it to fit. It doesn’t work like that. On top of that, they have to throw letters AND numbers into the mix. It’s like doing algebra in a dressing room. 34B + 44D = boy does this SUCK!

So, today, I finally broke down and did it. I went bra shopping. I didn’t have much time nor much patience so I just went to Fashion Bug in the big town of Indiana, PA. Whoohoo… kill me now.

Steven dropped me off and I went in, found 6 different bras all the same size as my current bra and headed to the dressing room. I love dressing room mirrors. What’s not to love? Where else can you get that up close and personal with your best features? NOT

I proceeded to try on all six bras. One had more padding then I have boob and I have plenty of boob. One bra had a lovely fabric that was constantly wrinkled – a lovely look. One gave the uni-boob look – a personal favorite. And two made me know what sausage stuffed in casing feels like. The last one, the one that fit and helped the sisters look like decent boobies (and not their true elongated selves) of course was the most expensive.

Again, remember, I hate to shop. So, once I find something that fits, I buy it – in multiples. There was a twist though. While I was in the dressing room I heard a lady trying on outfits in the room next door. She would try on an outfit and then go out seeking approval of her shopping mate. When I stepped out of the dressing room I found out that her shopping mate was her husband and he had plopped down onto a chair right outside of the dressing room – right in front of the ONLY section of bras that actually fit.

Perhaps it takes a real man to sit in the underwear section of Fashion Bug but in my opinion it takes a douche bag idiot not to realize how annoying that is. As I stood there looking stupefied, the sales associate approached and asked if she could help. I explained my dilemma in a whisper, “I need a few more of these bras and that “gentleman” is sitting right in front of them.” She was great and volunteered to look for some but in the middle got pulled away by another customer.

I decided that I would be tough and dive right in. I stood between the bras and his chair and guarantee my butt was only about 4 inches from his face. He asked, “Do you need me to move?” And, instead of saying what I really was thinking… “OF COURSE YOU FREAK – GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!”… I did the next best thing, “No, you’re fine.” UGGGGGG Who raised me to be such a push over? At that point, I was just so annoyed that he didn’t have enough common sense to just get up that I just kept looking, losing my embarrassment and held the gallon size boobie holders in various colors right in his face!

Sigh… many dollars later I left the store and met Steven who was where any normal man would be… waiting in his truck listening to sports radio!

There's Something about Mary!

Last night we had friends over for a swim and the kids had a blast. When they left my kids got out of the pool and started into the house. Our standard practice, given that we live in the sticks, is to have Gabe strip down and dry in the yard. We then throw his suit over the clothes line and go inside. I had already gone in the house and had started to do some work on my laptop when Grace came in crying. She was upset because Gabe was crying. You see, his pee-bug was stuck in his suit. What? I know. How is that possible? I continued to work assuming it was no big deal and then five minutes later realized Steven and Gabe were still working on the situation.

Gabe’s suit had the typical mesh liner. The trunks were a few years old but still seemed to fit. Unfortunately, what we didn’t know was there must have been a small hole in the mesh and the mesh part was apparently a little snug. His pee-bug skin was stuck in that hole and when I say stuck… I MEAN STUCK! Poor Gabe was freaking out. He was scared and in some amount of pain.

Of course I first thought of the iconic scene in “Something about Mary” when Ben Stiller’s character zipped his wiener up in his pants. I forced my laughter down as my poor guy was in quite a bit of distress.

Steven had cut much of the shorts away and Gabe was left with a patch still stuck. As I tried to calm his hysteria, he asked, “Momma has this ever happened to you?” (Seriously, how do you not laugh?) I said, “Well, I don’t have those same parts but I have had my finger caught in cloth before and was able to get it out.” I also told him about a movie I had watched where a guy had gotten his pickle caught in a zipper. Gabe asked, “Why didn’t they just unzip it?” I explained that they had tried but it didn’t work.

About an hour later… an hour filled with screaming and tears… we were able to get the mesh off of the pee-bug. Thankfully there was no damage and once it was removed, he was just fine. After he walked away and I knew he was ok, I laughed until I about cried!

Life with Gabe is never boring!