Cake and candy and birthdays, oh my!

One of my great joys growing up was when my mom made my birthday cake. She had a cake pan in the shape of a doll. Each year my birthday cake was made to order. I got to choose what kind of candy I wanted for the doll's hair, eyes, nose, mouth, buttons, etc. It was always long licorice for her hair, sometimes black and sometimes red. Spice drops, red hots, jelly beans, skittles, and all sorts of other yummy goodies. I have the fondest memories of watching and helping my mom with the cake and eating it too. I'm not sure why the doll cake created such fun, but it did and when I had Benjamin I knew I'd want to start a fun birthday tradition for him too.I saw this cake pan when I was at a kitchen store with my sister-in-law and loved it immediately. It's no doll, but Ben's more of a train guy anyway. I put it on my Christmas wish list and his Grandma C got it for us. I've been eagerly anticipating making this cake for my sweet boy, so much so that I actually did a practice round today. Yes, I'm that girl. I'm the girl who is so excited about baking and decorating and celebrating my boy that I had to have a little pre-birthday trial run. It was such a blast to do just this little bit of the cake and I cannot wait to make the whole train for my big Ben's birthday. It's hard to believe that a year with my baby has come and gone already and we'll be celebrating his first birthday in just a few days. But believe or not here it comes. I have mixed emotions of excitement to celebrate Ben and sadness to realize that time with him is going more quickly than I'd like it too. The good news is all of his birthdays will come with built in comfort food...cake and candy. Oh my...

You know you're a scaredy cat when a movie preview keeps you up at night.

I don't even really like cats so I hate to compare myself to one, but there's really no other way to put it. I am a scaredy-cat. I do not like scary movies. Well really it's not so much that I don't like scary movies as much as they disturb me for days after watching them. I used to be able to watch any movie at any time of day and never be bothered (I once watched Silence of the Lambs by myself late at night). But now for some reason those movies get to me. They're just unsettling even though I realize that the chance that I'm going to encounter a serial killer or a vampire or any other such antagonist in my lifetime is small or even impossible. Doesn't matter though. They still bother me. So when Jeff and I watch a scary movie we have to plan accordingly. He has to be home for at least the next 2 nights and we have to start the movie early enough in the evening so that we can play a little Mario or something before going to sleep. We also have a deal going where he tells me when I should open and close my eyes. I'm sure most people would say I'm missing all the "good" parts doing this, but I'd rather close my eyes during the movie so that I can close my eyes when it's time to sleep. Ridiculous, I know, but I cannot help myself. I was not prepared for what happened tonight though. Unfortunately a preview for the movie Don't Be Afraid of the Dark came on while I was watching TV, alone, late, after dark. Jeff isn't here to tell me to close my eyes and he'll will be at the hospital all night and there's nobody to play Mario with before bed. And now the house is making creepy noises and every time I hear an acorn drop onto the roof it makes me jump. To make matters worse the movie title is sitting there on my brain, mocking me. Don't Be Afraid of the Dark. The thing is I wouldn't be afraid of the dark tonight if I hadn't seen the preview for Don't Be Afraid of the Dark. Stupid scary previews with stupid mocking titles.

So happy together!

Benjamin loves to see his daddy come home after a long shift. He hadn't seen Jeff for nearly 24 hours yesterday morning, but they shared some guy time before they both went down for a nap. Wrestling, racing and other shenanigans were all part of the fun. Benjamin really enjoys his new car that he got from Grandma and Grandpa B as an early birthday gift. He's been having a rip-roarin' good time with his new toy, especially when his daddy races him. He hasn't figured out how to ride it yet, but he has become very proficient at pushing it (a skill which will come in handy if he runs out of gas some day). He is working on making car noises now. Here are some videos of Ben's guy time with Jeff.

Busy racing Daddy...and falling over...and getting up to finish the race...


But not so busy that he couldn't stop to show off his latest skill of standing by himself...


And finally getting tuckered out...

Seriously mom, I'm almost one.

When Benjamin was first born up until about he was about 6 months old he was a very spitty baby. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I had to change his outfit 3-5 times a day, and I usually had to change mine more than once a day too. It was terrible. No burp cloth could contain this child's explosions. I don't want to be gross here but the words projectile and gushing come to mind. Then once he started solids his tummy seemed to settle down little by little until eventually (probably about a month or so ago) I no longer felt the need to have a burp cloth handy at all times. I can remember how excited I was the first time Ben was able to wear the same outfit for an entire day. It was wonderful to cut back on doing so much laundry and I was even more pleased with the fact that I didn't have to try to keep Ben or Osa from playing in the little pools spit-up that he deposited around the house. Life was a lot less messy, for a while anyway. Benjamin has recently decided that he no longer needs my help while eating. He's been eating finger foods for a time now, but just this past weekend he thought he should take over spoon duty and he's quite insistent that he feed himself all on his own. He practically lunges at his bowl and spoon during mealtimes. And don't even think about taking his spoon away. He suddenly cannot seem to let go of it. I thought I'd try to contain the mess and shorten mealtimes by giving him a spoon to experiment with while feeding him with another. He likes to have both spoons. When I take one back he squawks at me as if to say, "Seriously mom, I'm almost one. I'm not a baby anymore." Okay buddy, you're big boy, but look at you...don't you think you could use a little help? It's fun to watch him learn how to maneuver the spoon just so and to see him become a little boy. But I have to admit I wouldn't mind spoon feeding him a bit longer just so I wouldn't have to go back to mountains of baby, excuse me, little boy laundry. I'm having a hard time understanding how he manages to get the food all over his bumper and up his shorts while he eats his dinner. Oh well, he doesn't seem to mind the mess, and neither does Osa. She's never eaten so good.

If you forget about it, you can forget about it.

Recently I bought two beautiful zucchinis at a local market. I had plans to cook some up for Ben and to make bread out of the rest. I had lots of plans for lots of fruits and veggies that I picked up that week...peach sauce and applesauce for Ben, steamed veggies for a chicken dinner, etc. Since I had stocked up and had a lot of pealing, chopping, steaming to do I set the zucchini aside with plans to get to it the next day. Then we had company. Then Jeff had a few days off. Then I forgot. I forgot that I had put the zucchini on top of the fridge and had left them in a plastic bag. And I kept forgetting, until tonight that is. I saw that plastic bag on top of the fridge and I knew. I knew that my beautiful squash would no longer be usable. What I didn't realize was that when I lifted the bag down from the fridge my gag reflex would be activated by a bag of sloppy, soupy zucchini mush. It was seriously one of the most disgusting food disasters I have ever encountered. I'm assuming most of us have forgotten about a container of food in the fridge for a little too long or have had that loaf of bread that's been hanging around longer than we care to admit, but this was one of the more grotesque food dilemmas I have experienced. I'll spare you any further details about the appearance, transport and disposal of the zucchini mush, but I will give you this tidbit of knowledge. If you purchase zucchini, no matter how perfect, and you leave it in a plastic sack on top of the warm refrigerator and you forget about it, then you can forget about it. Gross.

Anti back to school days.

It was not so long ago that I dreaded these days...back to school. I'm not going to lie to you. I prefer not working over working, summer vacation over school days and generally not being responsible to anyone other than my family. It's not that I don't like teaching. I do. Teaching was a great fit for me. I got to spend time with children, and I like children. I was given an outlet for creativity through instruction. I worked with a great bunch of people (seriously great people - I can't even express how amazing my coworkers were). And truly it was fun watching kids learn, mature, and get excited about things like learning a new skill or a silly song or goofy game. Even though I liked my job I looked forward to summer vacation and hated to see it come to an end. I think most teachers experience the same thing. But there was a sense of excitement and fun at the beginning of the school year that I enjoyed. I always thought it was fun to reconnect with work buddies and get to know the kids and come up with new ideas for the classroom. Now that I'm not on the school scene anymore I feel a little nostalgic as I reminisce about how fun my job was. But not to worry. Those feelings will dissipate the next time I see a misbehaving child at the store.

Have you seen a baby lift weights? I have.

I'm always on the lookout for new toys. I think the reason is that we spend a lot of time at home, Benjamin and I, and you can only play with the same toys for so long before little eyes start to wander towards things like the stereo or the PS3 or the antique lamp. It always seems like new toys provide a little extra distraction for busy Ben and allow me to get a few things done around the house. They may even give me the opportunity to go to the bathroom or eat lunch. The other reason I like looking for new toys may or may not have something to do with the fact that I like to shop. People have been telling me that babies are just as happy playing with an empty box as they are playing with the expensive toy that came inside said box. I have found that to be true many times. Benjamin has played with and inside of his fair share of empty boxes. He's played with my pots and pans, empty food containers (today it was the Hershey's cocoa container that occupied Ben while I baked brownies), water bottles, and much, much more. But no matter what interesting little doodads I give to Benjamin he has a knack for getting into the things he's not supposed to. The other day it was my small hand weights. I hide them behind Osa's doggy bed. He found them. I hid them. He found them. I hid them. He found them. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. At first I didn't think he should have them since he might pinch a finger or something, but he is a persistent little thing, and I hate to admit it...he wore me down. I know. I know. It might just be hand weights today, but before I know it I'll be battling with him over homework and curfews and the like. Don't worry. I'm giving Benjamin his fair share of guidance and correction. I'm a teacher after all. There's plenty of control freakishness going on around this joint. Just ask my husband. Besides after seeing how much he loved playing with the weights, lifting them and pushing them around the floor, I decided it would make a pretty cute picture. And really, who am I to dissuade my child from healthful physical activity? Also, it kept him out of the no-no's for at least 10 minutes, and let's face it, 10 minutes is a lot of time in baby world.

How an innocent comment can bring out the junior high school boy in nearly every man.

Buns! Oh my goodness, you have not had a good bun until you have eaten one of these. I know that I should probably call them rolls in an effort to eliminate any confusion as to whether I am referencing buns or buns (you know what I mean). I think the original came from my grandma, but my dad has tweaked this amazing recipe for the rolls pictured above. Not kidding, the sweetest, softest, best rolls I have ever eaten. He shared the recipe with me and now I make them quite regularly for gatherings with friends or just for our daily bread. Every time I've made them they are gone in a flash. There was one particular time that our company enjoyed the rolls and a good laugh. During that meal everybody was saying how good the buns were and I went on and on saying things like "I know, my dad's buns are so soft" and "My dad has the best buns". I didn't even realize what I was saying until all of the guys starting giggling like a bunch of junior high school boys. By the time Jeff clued me in to what they were laughing at I had probably made at least a half dozen comments about my dad's buns...soft, fluffy, sweet, etc. Now that I know how juvenile males, even grown men, can be about "buns" I try to use more discretion when it comes to word choice. But the joke continues. Recently we had some friends over and Jeff was sure to tell them the story while I was out of the room and encouraged them to compliment me on my soft, fluffy buns. Oh well, I guess I'd rather have people joking about my buns than my rolls.

Daddy's Roll Recipe

Combine 2tsp dried yeast, 1/2 tsp sugar and 1/2 cup of warm water in a large glass. Set aside.

In a sauce pan heat 1/3 cup of shortening, 1 cup milk and 1 tbsp honey (my dad uses 2% milk but I've used skim and it works fine too). Heat to 180 degrees.

Meanwhile in a large bowl beat one egg. Add ie1 tsp salt and 1/3 cup sugar.

When the milk and honey mixture reaches 180 degrees add it to the egg mixture. Allow the contents to cool until the temperature has lowered to 80 degrees. Stir occasionally. For rapid cooling set bowl in cold water.

While this is cooling sift 4 1/2 cups of flour.

After the milk and egg mixture has cooled to the desired temperature add the yeast mixture and stir together. Then stir in all but 1/2 cup of the flour with a wooden spoon. You may have to use your hands to mix the dough well.

Knead the dough for about 7 minutes adding the reserved 1/2 cup of flour as you do so. The dough should not stick to your hands and should spring back after it has been properly kneaded. My dad does this by hand. I use my Kitchenaid mixer. You can find tips on YouTube for either method.

Grease a bowl. Place dough inside. Cover (I use a hand towel) and allow to rise for about 1 hour. Punch dough down to remove air. Allow to rise for another hour. Form dough into balls about the size of a golf ball (larger for hamburger buns) Place on greased cookie sheet. Allow to rise once more.

Preheat oven to 330-350 degrees (I do 330 because my oven bakes hot). Bake for about 12 minutes or until golden brown.

Enjoy and brag about your buns.

Don't say I didn't tell you.

Have you ever experienced the humiliation and pain of falling on a treadmill? I have. It's terrible. Yes, I'm that girl who wasn't paying attention to what she was doing because she was too busy watching TLC's "What Not To Wear" and tripped all because she was trying to learn how to be more fashionable. Running disaster. And if you saw what I wear most days you would also know that I'm no more fashionable as a result of my dedication to watching the television program either. Currently I am wearing sweats and a t-shirt but to my credit it is past 10pm. Anyway, I wasn't wearing the safety clip. I fell. It hurt. A lot. Then within one month's time the very same thing happened again. So I decided I should either clip myself to the safety key or I should run with knee pads and a helmet. I opted to wear the clip. In my defense I was running on one of those long-distance treadmills with treads on the belt and I'm pretty sure that's why I tripped...that, and perhaps a little clumsiness on my part.

Every time I go to the gym and hop on a treadmill this (see picture) is what I see. Does everybody wrap the safety clip around the handles like this? I have never seen anybody else use a clip. In fact, I have never seen a clip that looks as if it has been used. So each time I get ready for my run (although it's really more of a jog these days) I unwind the cord and attach it to my shorts. I'm sure it annoys the next runner and they probably wonder why anybody would use the safety clip. Obviously those people have never had the adventure of falling on a treadmill...twice.

Perhaps I am the only person above the age of 5 who has ever fallen or nearly fallen on a treadmill and perhaps I am the only one who ever will. But the clip is right there. I would use it if I were you. Then again, if I were you I probably wouldn't have fallen in the first place. If you were me, then you should DEFINITELY wear the clip. And if you choose not to use the clip, don't say I didn't tell you. And don't watch "What Not To Wear" when operating a treadmill either...or any heavy machinery for that matter.

Everything is temporary.

There are times when I think that residency is not so bad. This is not one of those times. I'm selfish about my time with my husband and I miss him terribly when he is gone night after night, working long shifts and catching on sleep during the day. It's times like these when I feel like residency is something I'm trying to endure, which may sound silly since I'm more of a spectator than a participant in this journey. But endure is indeed the word I am feeling.

He never shows it, but it must be tough on him too. I admire him. There is no way that I could do what he does. Obviously I'm not a doctor (I don't even play one on TV), so technically I couldn't do it anyway. But even if I had the degree and the knowledge and the ability to perform well under pressure I simply could not do it. I would not be able to function under the hours or the pressure or the gravity of it all. I try to remind myself of that when I'm feeling mopey about it. It gives me an appreciation for the challenges my husband conquers every day.

I let my imagination wander a bit today as I was tempted to craft a letter to the hospital asking if they could loan Jeff out to me and Benjamin or give him time off for good behavior. It's hard to see him go off to work every night and it's even more difficult to welcome him home only to realize he needs to sleep during the day. It's such a tease to know that he's home and down the hall and not be able to spend time together. During these rotations I miss eating dinner as a family, listening to Jeff and Benjamin play together, and cuddling on the couch to watch a movie after putting the baby to bed.

This is, of course, no tragedy and when compared to life's big picture my situation really is not that bad. In fact, it seems a little silly to make such a big deal about the woes of residency when I know full well that there is real suffering going on in the world around me. But in a small way it deepens my belief in this...it's temporary. Circumstances in life may be difficult or disappointing, even heart-wrenching. But they are temporary. Everything here on Earth is temporary. Something happens. You deal with it. You move on. It may last a very short time. It may last a very long time. But it will only be for a time.

So I will save myself $0.44 because I don't need to send that letter to the hospital. Benjamin and I will get to spend more time with Jeff next month, and I will treasure it because that will be temporary too!

High fives are still cool.

Today Benjamin spontaneously decided to start giving high fives. My folks were visiting for a few days and as he was giving them hugs and kisses goodbye he suddenly threw out his little hand and gave my mom a high five. Of course I realize that fist bumps and complicated hand shakes and such are allegedly cooler than Benjamin's new trick, but I grew up in an era where high fives were the thing to do. We also tight-rolled our jeans and teased our bangs until they stood 4 inches above our heads. I no longer subscribe to those trends, but this is different. So give your high fives as much as you like. I love watching you learn your new tricks and I think it's totally dope, little dude.

Please do not judge the cleanliness of my child based upon the carrots and broccoli that are covering him and the surrounding area. They have since been removed.

Watch out for the broccoli.

It's always good when you discover that something about your appearance may embarrass you before you go out in public (zipper down, lipstick on teeth, etc.). You may inwardly experience a little humility, but if the situation is contained and witnessed only by you then no harm done. That's why I was so glad that I discovered the broccoli that Benjamin deposited in my hair before I left the house. I'm not sure if he was trying to hide his food so he wouldn't have to finish it or if he was storing it for later consumption. Either way I'm still left wondering how it got there as Ben was sitting in his highchair and my head was a good 2 feet from his vegetable hands throughout the entire meal. Maybe he threw it at me when I wasn't looking. At any rate I would like to issue this general warning... If you serve a small child steamed broccoli and allow him to feed himself you may be finding little green bits of mush on more than just the highchair and surrounding surfaces (table, wall, floor, ceiling). Also be warned that the dog may not be interested in cleaning the food off of the floor in her usual way. Apparently steamed broccoli does not have the same appeal for dogs as other foods like turkey or lasagna. It would be a good idea to invest in a mop if you should find yourself feeding a small child such things. Now to work on converting the dog to a vegetarian lifestyle.

Puppies!

What is more fun than having a boy and a dog to entertain you? A boy and 2 dogs. My parents' little fluff of a dog was visiting for the weekend while my folks enjoyed an outdoor bluegrass festival to which no dogs are permitted. Apparently hillbillies and hippies can attend, but canines are out of the question. Benjamin had a wonderful time with two dogs in the house. He greeted both pups each morning, watching them stretch and getting good morning kisses from both of them. The dogs romped around quite a bit playing tug o' war and teasing one another and Benjamin couldn't get enough. He loved watching them tussle. If the dogs were doing anything other than laying down Benjamin was watching their every move. And when the puppies went outside he was ever watchful, not wanting to miss out on any of the excitement. Double the doggies, double the fun....at least for a few days anyway.

Yeah, I just did that.

My child cannot wait to walk and he will turn anything that isn't nailed to the floor into a walker so that he get from here to there. Dining room chairs, a box of diapers, his Leap Frog table, even the quilt rack have been victims of his creative use. When Benjamin manages to waddle his way around the house he gets pretty tickled with himself. Either he'll flash a big smile or a proud look. His most recent tool for getting around is the riding toy he got from his grandparents for his birthday. He is already getting so much use out of this early birthday gift that he may just wear it out before he turns 1. We're working on actually riding the riding toy, but in the meantime pushing it all over the house is lots of fun. I'm just hoping he doesn't try this out on the dog when I'm not looking.

I love the way he looks at the camera and nods when he finishes his walk. It's like he's saying, "Yeah, I just did that."

Shopping Spree

This morning I went "shopping" with a sweet friend and her little boy. We hit about a half a dozen garage sales and found some really great deals. I don't always have good luck when I look through other people's junk, but today was one of those days I could have scoured the town for hours because I was finding such great stuff. Unfortunately we had to stop our shopping spree because Benjamin was hungry and tired. Apparently he runs the show. If only he realized everything I was buying was for him (with the exception of one pair of gardening gloves)....he may have chewed on his fingers a bit longer to stave off the hunger. Regardless we made out pretty good.

Here's what we found:

6 board books
Fisher-Price Chatter Telephone
Fisher-Price Laugh & Learn Puppy
bag filled with clothes
toy lawnmower
gardening gloves

Total = $12.00!!!

Lots of inexpensive goodies and the company of a friend...money and time well spent!

You are a big deal to me!

For months I've been trying to teach Ben to clap. I've tried everything. Patty-cake, clapping celebrations for every little thing he does, clapping to music. He loves to watch me clap but never showed any interest in trying it himself. Then suddenly tonight as I was feeding him his dinner he spontaneously began clapping. He didn't even seem to realize that he was doing it until I made a big fuss about it. I cheered and clapped and laughed at him. It was then that Benjamin realized he had stumbled on to something big. Really big. He looked at me and clapped. He looked at Jeff and clapped. He looked at his hands and clapped. It was so sweet to see how proud he was of himself. It's funny how these little moments are such a big deal to parents (first smiles, rolling over, sitting, babbling, standing, clapping) when down the road the big deals will be made of up drivers licenses, graduations, first jobs and so much more. In the grand scheme of things these small activities that Benjamin is learning will seem so insignificant compared to the things he may do in the future. I still think it's amazing how this little person who was in my womb less than one year ago has already learned so much. So clap on little, man. You are a big deal to me!

My Precious

I've been offering Benjamin a sippy cup for some time now in hopes that he would one day discover how to drink from it. Up until today I was getting a little concerned that when the time came to ween him he would have a hard time adjusting. My bottle-battling boy resists taking milk from anything other than me and we are getting pretty close to his cut-off date. He likes it straight from the tap so I wondered what I would do with him if he wouldn't take a bottle AND he didn't know how to drink from his little cup. But today was the day. Benjamin suddenly discovered that if he didn't just bite the sippy cup he could actually get something out of it. What a relief. The best part of it all was that after he realized that he was drinking from the cup he couldn't get enough of it. He held onto it like Gollum and it was almost as if he was saying "My Precious" with his eyes. Okay buddy, I'm excited you figured it out, but let's not go overboard here, okay?

Fat girl, skinny girl, and somewhere in between.

I've been a fat girl. I've been a skinny girl. And now I'm a mama who knows what it's like to be both, terrified of one and longing to be the other again. This post is not meant to drum up compliments nor is it for my own edification, so please don't feel the need to give attention to either. It's just that lately I've been thinking a lot about what it's like to be a woman, fat or skinny, or somewhere in between who struggles with the way she looks. Believe it or not, a girl can feel bad about herself if she's fat or if she's skinny. Self-image isn't really ever about a person's outward appearance. It's really about thoughts. I struggled with my feelings of worth when I was at my thinnest as much as I did when I was at my heaviest. When I was really overweight I was so self-conscious. Most of my energy was spent on being funny or friendly in hopes that people wouldn't notice how big I was. Usually I felt like I was the biggest person in every room I entered. Then with a lot of hard work, discipline, and let's be honest, a little bit of obsession I got skinny. It took forever to get there and most of the time I never felt like I had finished. It didn't seem to matter that I had dropped 7 dress sizes or that I had lost over 90 pounds. In my head I was still a fat girl. A negative self-image loomed over me. Over time and with Jeff's encouragement, I was able to become comfortable with myself for the most part. Then we started our family and the scale showed numbers I was all too familiar with and did not want to see again. I accepted the numbers knowing that my little baby needed those numbers and that if I had lost weight once I could do it again. Now here I sit, a mama who had her baby more than 11 months ago with "baby" weight left to lose and trying to do it again. My husband encourages me and tells me that I'm beautiful and that he wouldn't change a thing about me, but I would. I would lose these extra pounds and tone up. And yet, I wouldn't trade being a mama to my Benjamin. I can't go to the gym every day and I certainly can't justify spending hours at the gym when I have a family that I love so much. So I'm doing what I can (with the exception of a few extra cookies here and there) by getting out with the stroller, going to the gym when I can, and trying to be mindful of what I'm eating. And I'm telling myself that if my husband thinks I'm beautiful and God says I am fearfully and wonderfully made, then I'm okay just the way I am. Is my value in a number? Is yours? I am not less or more of a woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister or friend based upon my weight or size or outward appearance...and neither are you. I can't let the scale or the number on the tag of my jeans dictate how I feel about myself. What should dictate how I feel about myself is knowing that I was made in the image of God and He is beautiful. Now, off to the gym for a reasonable amount of time to find my strength, not my value:)

The Take Home Chef

Benjamin woke up early this morning and Jeff was trying to recover from working nights. We headed out to the grocery store so that the sleep deprived resident could have a quiet house in which to rest. I usually do my grocery shopping at Super Target or HyVee. The slogan for Hyvee is "Where there's a helpful smile down every aisle". Fact: there actually is a helpful smile down every aisle. No kidding. The staff there are so friendly. They even give Benjamin a balloon when we go there which may not seem like a big deal but it actually is a big deal if you are trying to fill your cart with groceries while lugging around a baby who desperately wants to get out of the cart and play. Anyway, today we went to Hyvee, grabbed a cart, got our free balloon and began searching for the items on our list. I couldn't believe my luck when I saw Curtis Stone there. I mean I've seen him in the Hyvee ads with tips and recipes and such, and I've seen him in the Hyvee commercials going to the homes of customers to help them cook dinner, but I never thought that I would actually see him in my very own grocery store. Wow! He warmly greeted us with a smile, but when I went to say hello and ask for tips on how to put together tonight's meal he totally blew me off and just smiled at the people behind me. Well, I could see that he wasn't going to come to the house to cook for us tonight which was fine I guess, but he didn't offer any advice either. Oh well. By the looks of the bathroom scale nobody around here is going without food so I suppose we'll be okay. But I do think the whole "take home chef" thing is much ado about nothing. At least we got a balloon.