What have I become.

So late, I won’t even try to pass these off as 7 Quick Takes. But, because the world will surely benefit from all these recent vignettes from the Hansen household, I offer this:

 – Lucia has really been cranking up the assertiveness lately. Twice this week, Luke has been harassing her for kisses, either while she was engrossed in an episode of (you guessed it) Little Bear or had just woken up and wasn’t going to tolerate anyone touching her (I know the feeling, kid). She wriggles away and commands, “Go to the bathroom!” or “Go to the kitchen!” Perhaps related to Her Highness’ recent personality development, she has also started wearing a hot pink, sequined tulle tutu 24/7. Over jeans. With Air Force Academy sweatpants and an embroidered Mexican tunic shirt (that was a particularly memorable outfit). With her fleece footie pajamas. I wish I had pictures, but the camera’s in a box somewhere 😮

– Luke and I have been watching the British version of Masterchef. It’s amusing to note the differences with the American show. For one, the contestants are already professional chefs, not amateurs/home cooks, which to me really makes it an entirely different concept altogether and changes the standard of what a “Masterchef” title really entails … but I digress. The other main difference is the lack of Hollywood-fication and blatant, producers’ narrative to ramp up drama. Even the music during the judging is noticeably staid…pleasant…British. No tribal drums here. The focus is also much more on classical recipes and technique, while the American contestants are much more daring and diverse in their repertoires and are encouraged to put their own twist on classic cuisine. That said, the British judges were aghast at one cook’s decision to use sweet potato in her dessert course. She might as well have served octopus; they were just in complete disbelief that sweet potato could, or should, be served…sweet. Come on, people! Have you never heard of Ray Charles??

– Whenever I leave WordPress open, I have to reread my draft carefully, because Luke is prone to inserting “butts” in the middle of random sentences. I think I’m safe this time.

– Dark rum and pumpkin egg nog with this banana bread after both kids went to bed. Mmmm. The bread recipe was a perfect one to tackle with a toddler in that awkward time gap between dinner and bedtime … she spent the whole time standing on a kitchen chair, pumping the potato masher up and down in the mixing bowl while crooning, “I MASSING BAMANAS!!!!!”

– I kinda harbor this dream of living overseas for a couple years. In highschool, I lived in Belgium for two years, and Luke spent his late elementary school years in Sweden, so the concept’s not all that foreign to either of us (see what I did there?! Hahaha.) That said, Jenny’s post over at Mama Needs Coffee on her anxieties over moving to Rome with two babies made me laugh, then sigh, then nod sympathetically. Yeeahh. We’ll stick to our weekly-excursion-to-the-library-is-as-exhilarating-as-it-gets-around-here routine for a few more years, I’m thinking.

– To file in the “babies are making me stupid” category, I coined the word “unwobbly” this weekend while getting my organization fix at Ikea. It means: “Unstable,” or, you know, “Wobbly,” as in, “This really tall, plastic stepstool seems a little too unwobbly for my toddler to use while straining for the bathroom sink faucet.” Sigh. Goodbye, teenage dreams of becoming a renowned writer/editor. Hello, mommy blogosphere.

– Overheard this past weekend from the kitchen: “LUCIA STOP EATING OUT OF THE TRASH.” Seriously?!?? Did we all do this as 2-year-olds?!

– Lesson learned: When you’re considering flushing the clogged toilet (hey, it always worked at the old place) vs. closing the lid and leaving it alone until the kids let you deal with it with a plunger … let the toilet win this one.

– This week I am thankful for: Bleach; bleach sprays; maintenance call takers who ask “well why didn’t you use a plunger” while you can just hear their eyes rolling back in their head; bleach again; and neon-colored turkeys (but don’t worry, they’re organic!), the promise of which is keeping me going at least through this Wednesday when we pick ours up for Thanksgiving. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.


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