Tag Archives: Winter

Well, The Coyote Is Outta The Bag

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Just when you think you know a girl, look in her purse.

Here’s what went down.

Last weekend was the 10th Annual Sisterhood Mother-Daughter Christmas Tea Party.  Are you doing the math? It was JANUARY last weekend—NOT December.

Ten years ago, when we were young mothers, we thought a tea party would be a grand idea—one more chance for the sweet babies to wear their pretty Christmas dresses! We even had little tea pots, and there was, and still is, a book exchange among the not-so-little-any-more girls (yep, we started the love-of-books-brain-washing young!).  This year, an evil virus took down one of the families over Christmas, hence, the post-holiday date.   With our combined schedules, we are oh-so-lucky we weren’t singing yuletide carols by the pool in June, but, whatever, on with the Fa-La-La-ing.

Yep, that is a coyote skin the girls are dangling over the balcony. Perhaps “Tea Party” is a little too high rent for what we have going on.

We were all just sitting around coffee-klatching it up.  Yes, we know we JUST said it was a TEA party, but it was decided about 3 seconds into the first tea party that the tea was really just for the girls. (And really the “tea” was water because we’re not insane.) We Moms require something with a little higher octane. The lovely afternoon hummed with the sounds of old friends catching up and the girls playing oh-so-beautifully when . . .

Ellen: Why on earth do you have a paper towel roll in your purse? You don’t even use paper towels.

Erin:  embarrassed giggle

Ellen: I feel like I just walked in on a vegetarian devouring a Big Mac.

Suddenly all eyes are on Erin. The Sisterhood all know The Big Secret, but most people do not: Erin’s family does not use paper towels.  They broke their Bounty habit about 4 years ago and haven’t looked back. The only negative is when people find out. Nothing gets a room whipped into a frenzy faster than a woman who has abandoned her paper products. They start sputtering, “HOW can you do that?” Then they belligerently berate, “But what about raw meat juices and vomit!?!” And it goes on and on.

So Erin is quick to go on the defensive when someone shines a spotlight on it— like lightning-fast, hair-trigger defensive. You CANNOT believe how crazy people get over the No-Paper-Towel lifestyle. Or can you? Calm yourself. It’s not like she doesn’t use toilet paper.

Ultimately, this was not a grand confessional moment. She was only the runner! Erin was ferrying the paper towel rolls to a neighbor to be transformed into swords for a birthday party. Can we all just agree now that Pinterest is going to be the death of us all?

But it definitely got us to thinking about what other secrets might be uncovered in the great abysses known as our purses. So here’s . . .

10 Things Our Purses Reveal About Us

 

 Ellen

Erin is not the only environmentalist in the Sisterhood — her with her radical No Paper Towel Policy. My purse shows that I’m trying to save the planet by keeping the world’s garbage in my purse instead of sending it to a landfill. Here are some highlights.

1. Same red bird ornament as Erin.

The first rule of Red Bird Club is do not talk about Red Bird Club.

2. Sunday School ornament nestled up to some screws.

Can we take a moment to respect the character that is my baby? In church, my 12 year old sunshine created a Christmas decoration hashtagged  YOLO and SWAG. While SWAG might be fitting for my Savior, He definitely was THE exception for “You only live once.”

Can we not talk about why I have not one, but two five Christmas ornaments in my purse in February?

By the way, matching up those screws is what is standing between me and a finished laundry closet. That and 13 hours of labor.

 

3. USB cord.

I’m a gal who is always prepared. In the countryside that I call home, it is not uncommon for internet to drop out. When you do something as important as blog for no profit, you need to be prepared to tether your cell phone as a hotspot . . . that is, if you happen to have any bars. I should blog with smoke signals.

 

4. Two wallets are heavier than one.

See that super cute Coach wristlet on the left? That was going to be the answer to lightening my load – only the essential cards and cash AND I could just grab it and go when I didn’t want to drag around my whole garbage can, I mean purse. The reality? I haven’t cleaned my wallet out to make sure I have all of my essentials, so now I’m dragging them BOTH around.

 

5. A card is worth a thousand words.

This trio of cards landed together. It was like a tea leaves reading: a Dunkin’ Donuts card, a Lego card, and a Kohl’s coupon for Black Friday. (Once again, I know it is now February.) Make of it what you will.

 

Erin

 I kind of suspect that this is what the inside of my head looks like.

6. Same Red Bird as Ellen

First Rule of Red Bird Club is do not talk about Red Bird Club.

 

7. 400 Speed Film

Hmmm. I don’t even use my film camera any more since I took up with the fabulous DSLR Nikon. Yes, ladies, sometimes shiny and new can sway you from tried and true. I suspect I found these when cleaning out a drawer and said “Wow, I should really get that developed”, but I have no recollection of having this conversation with myself. Perhaps the person who swiped my camera bag left these in exchange. It’ s a Nancy Drew mystery.

8. Business Cards

Super important to have on hand when you are blogging for no profit.

9. Survival Stockpile

Purse or Suburban Mom Survivalist pack? You decide. You can’t really see it in this picture, but there’s even an emergency medical kit hidden in an Altoids tin, complements of my little Cub Scout. With this bag in tow, just grab a great hat, put on your best Indiana Jones swagger, and pilot that mini-van towards your next adventure.  You could survive for days in the suburban jungle with this mess.

 

10. Birth Certificate and Social Security Card

All apologies to my mom and dad who actually spent one Saturday morning looking through THEIR files for these documents. I found these nice and safe in an envelope in my purse.

Who carries around their birth certificate, you ask? This girl!! You see I am going away with my husband for the first time in a long time. Not away, like “Hey, kids, we are hanging out in the basement. Go destroy the rest of the house” away, but more like “Hey, we’ll send you a postcard. Please don’t kill your grandparents before we get back” kind of away.

We are going on the kind of away that requires a passport and about 40 mom-hours worth of work before the magical, hanging-out with my husband sans kids can happen. Super-excited for the trip AND that I found these documents!

Of course, our souvenir from the last trip like this is in kindergarten now, which reminds of a few more things that I should put on my to-do list.

PS– Do you see that I carry my husband’s old swiss army knife?? Wasn’t kidding about that Survivalist pack.

 So, in the end, this look inside the purses doesn’t end up being a grand confessional either. Just more of what you have come to expect: a little silly, a little sensible, a little sweet.

Click the link to read some other great posts over at  Monday Listicles !

 

 Don’t forget  to vote for us as one of the Circle of Moms Top 25 Funny Mom Blogs. Just click the little pink button below. It takes just a minute! Push us, push us real good into the Top 25!

Thanks! Erin and Ellen

 

You can vote once per 24 hours until February 13th. So click it, so we can quit begging!

 

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Just Drink the Kool-Aid, er, Tea: Why Downton Abbey Should Be Must-Watch TV

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Erin: There are two types of people in this world—those who love Downton Abbey and those who haven’t seen it yet.

Ellen: Well, if you’re going to lay it down like that, I have a gold card membership for the second category.

Erin: Seriously? What are you waiting for? This series has won Golden Globes, Emmys—even a mention in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Ellen: Just haven’t gotten around to it yet. My DVR is already so stuffed it’s groaning. I still have all of those old Ellen episodes I have yet to watch.

Erin:  Well, pull out that teapot, butter some scones, and erase some of those old X Factors! People from Dubai to Delhi to Downingshire are lovin’ Downton. Cute boy bands aren’t the only British exports worth checking out.

Ellen:  You know I love my One Direction, but I’m willing to broaden my horizons.

Ellen and the Boys at Christmas

 

Erin:   And you will LOVE this series!! Downton Abbey takes place in the Great House of the same name. There, the aristocratic Crawley family live and work and carry on like only gentrified folk can in the English countryside.

Ellen: How “Great” are we talking about here?

Erin: Just know that when I say great house, I don’t mean it like “hey, great house!” but like “wow, this house is like a city block”. 

Ellen: I’m interested. Go on.

Erin: Anyway, Lord Robert and Lady Cora, the Earl and Countess of Grantham, live there with their three daughters — Lady Mary (the smart, pretty, self-centered one), Lady Edith (the plain, snarky, kinda bitter one), and Lady Sybill (another pretty one who’s kind, forward-thinking, and a great foil for lots of plot lines during this period of change).  Oh, and there’s the Dowager Countess Lady Violet, Lord Grantham’s mother and the grand dame of Downton—she causes all kinds of delicious trouble as she passes judgement on them all . 

Ellen: You’re kind of losing me. I’m going to make a graph.

Feel free to comment about the chart

 

Erin: If a graph is what it takes, then whatever. We’re moving on, try to stick with me. They are the “upstairs” people. Everyone else—the footmen, chauffeurs, valets, maids, cooks, butlers, etcetera (remember what I said about that city block)—they’re the “downstairs” people, and they live out whole lives in service to this family.

The drama comes from the look behind the curtain at the Great House. Nothing’s more fun than snooping around someone’s house and getting to see their secrets.

Ellen: Remind me to constantly supervise you when you’re in my house. It all sounds like Jerry Springer with crumpets and chamomile tea, which is kind of hard to reconcile with headlines like this:

There aren’t even subtitles. Geesh.

If you don’t love this woman, then you probably hate bunnies and rainbows, too, and there is no hope for you.

Erin: Don’t let that headline fool you! This series is a wicked good time. Not like just an English good time either, but like a full American good time except with, you know, tea.

Ellen: And by the way, I see  Professor McGonagall in that picture. You should have led off by telling me Maggie Smith stars in it because that right there is a selling point.

Erin: Maggie Smith is the Dowager Countess Lady Violet! I’m going to get to her in a minute. But I know you are not so easily swayed so I am going to give you a full-on, air-tight, rock-solid argument for. . .

Why You Just Need to Drink the Downton Abbey Kool-Aid and Get on With It, Already!

1. Pretty People in Pretty Clothes

An antidote to the Wal-Mart phenomenon, this show has gorgeous people all prettied up and ready for a night on the town, or in this case, the Abbey. The Crawleys dress for dinner every night. Like white-tie dress. Like full-length gown dress. Like the downstairs people dress them with cufflinks and bedeck them with jewels. EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.  It’s people as set-pieces, but it’s impossible to turn away. Another bonus? This double shot of chiffon just might erase all visions of jeggings from your head.

It’s also sexy as hell. Get some hotties, put them in some spectacular duds, and sprinkle them with a healthy dose of buttoned-up British longing and you have the recipe for a little heart-pounding. You won’t be able to see a Derby hat again without blushing.

2. The Young and The Restless: UK Style

And speaking of sexy. While it may not be your Momma’s soap opera, Downton does bring a healthy dose of melodrama to the small screen. The plots, the subplots, the back-stabbing, and the conniving! While not exactly The Real Housewives of Yorkshire, there is sex, drugs, and even death—including a murder. Oh, the scandal! Oh, the intrigue! Oh, the ridiculous fun for you!

The series opens when the family receives news of the sinking of the Titanic for cripes’ sake! Is there an American alive who isn’t enthralled with the Titanic? To jumpstart the series with an ode to the tragic story that mirrors the class struggles inside Downton itself— it’s bloody brilliant, I tell ya!

3. Scrumptiousness

The gorgeous lighting, the layered scripts, the beautiful people—the very scrumptiousness of it all is a big part of what makes it great. You just want to go there—to that place, to that time, to that big, beautiful, old Great House, and hang out awhile. Like every Sunday evening for as long as the series holds out.

Ellen: You lost me again.

This is a show that’s in love with its set and its prop pieces and is not afraid to show it. A footman will deliver a letter on a silver tray, but the music will swell as the camera closes in on the details of the gloved hand holding the tray and you will follow eagerly until that letter reaches its destination. It’s a letter, by jiminy, not the Magna Carta! But this is part of what makes Downton different and special—the little things in life writ large. The whole opening sequence is a love letter of its own to this bygone era. It’s a great metaphor for what is being lost as the world changes and modernizes, and you’ll yearn for those old days too as you savor these moments.

4. It’s a Spoonful of Sugar

Alright, I know I just said that you should ignore the headlines above, but you DO get a healthy dose of some early twentieth century world history.  And because of all the pretty people, it goes down smooth as a cup of Earl Grey.

It’s like a British Schoolhouse Rock. Except there’re no jingles. And no cheesy cartoons. Just tea. And lots of hats.

5. Maggie Smith

The Grand Dame Herself. This woman is a living testament to the best things about the British Empire—she’s practically Marmite on toast (Yeah, that’s a real British treat. Ask Erin’s brother-in-law and sister-in-law who lived in Cambridge.). But in case you need a more compelling argument, let me just say that her character, the Dowager Countess Lady Violet, gets all the best lines. Hard to pick my favorite honestly, but I love this one from the Season 2 opener in reference to the arrival of the Crawley’s American grandmother played by Shirley McClain:

Violet: When I’m with her, I’m reminded of the virtues of the English.
Matthew: Isn’t she American?
Violet: Exactly.

She’s a bloody good time, that one!

6. It’s Quotable!

We don’t just love to quote movies. We like our TV to give us some lines to get us through the day, too. This series does not disappoint. See the example above.

7. Double, Double, Toil, and Trouble

Oh, the fabulous Crawley sisters!  Half the time,  you will want to stuff ’em in a bag and let ’em claw it out, but you will never be bored by these sisters. Their realistic portrayal of the ties that bind and sometimes gag are part of the appeal. They expose the healthy, sometimes hateful, heartbeat beneath the staid but lovely exterior of the aristocracy. But make no mistake, these ladies are complex.

Sybill is the sister we all WISH we were.  We might admire the noble Sybill with her high ideals, forward-thinking, and sweet, kind heart, but she’s not necessarily the girl to admit your penchant for those Derby hats to. Mary and Edith, on the other hand, are the girls we ACTUALLY are—-complete with Mary’s self-centeredness and Edith’s insecurities. They can barely stay away from trouble, these three! Just know that wherever they are, something wicked fun is sure to follow.

8. Fascinators, Hats, and Gloves, Oh My!

Yeah, the clothes are awesome. Enough said.

Check out our fascinators! For you Downton newbies, they are our hair jewelry!

9. Jimmy Fallon Spoofs It So It Must Be Good

Erin: Ok, if everything above won’t sway you, here’s something you can definitely relate to.

Ellen:  Well, if it’s good enough for Jimmy Fallon. . .

10. It Makes Going to Tea with Your 21st Century Girlfriends Totally Cool

Hands down the best reason of all! Downton Abbey High Tea with two of our buddies from The Sisterhood, Nicole and Mary, was a highlight of my new year. I am so sorry that you were too sick to go (Readers, you can tell her how much it sucks that she couldn’t come in the comments. She is still a little sad about the whole thing.) We would have taken you. Honestly. We just couldn’t find a Hazmat suit or a stretcher in time.

High Tea—Downton-style

 

Erin finally had a place to take her hat! Doesn’t she look like she just stepped out of the 1920s??


Ellen: I could have worn a SARS mask to the tea if you all weren’t such wimps. I do have to say you have presented a nice argument . . .  even if I did have to make the chart for you. You’ve convinced me to watch, now get me started.

Erin: Hold your fascinator, you’re the only one who needed the chart. I own seasons 1 and 2 on DVD. We could catch you up in one weekend marathon. For as Lady Cora said  in the season 3 opener,

“There is nothing more tiring than waiting for something to happen.”  

 

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10 Anti-Resolutions for 2013

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The topic for Monday Listicles is 10 THINGS YOU HAVE NO INTENTION OF CHANGING IN 2013. This one came from the lovely guru herself , Stasha at The Good Life.

Erin: Our girl Stasha is definitely speaking our language on this one.

Ellen: We are in no way disrespecting resolutions. We both agree that they are noble. It’s just I’m not into making promises in the deep dark of winter that I know I’m going to depress myself by breaking. Resolutions are just so much pressure. I’m more of a September — back to school, shiny new shoes, fresh start — kind of girl.

Erin: Aww, you make me want to bring you a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils. (“You’ve Got Mail”, anyone?)

Truth be told, I’m really more of a July—too busy hanging out by the pool with a cool drink to bother with some pesky resolutions–kind of girl. But I do like to at least go through the motions of recording goals, so we have a tradition for that.  

Every New Year’s morning, I set the dining room table with butcher paper (or plain sheets of paper if I run out of butcher paper like I did this year!). There are six different headings and everybody who is around has to finish the statements in the heading (Sorry, SIL and BIL, but you stay, you play!). This little tradition always yields funny and sweet results. Check out these gems from this year.

 

 

But even with these fabulous resolutions to inspire you, here are . . .

 

10 Things That Will Not Change In 2013

On a Scale of Sappy to What-the-Fudge?

1. Savoring the Moments

Erin: Even though it seems completely inconceivable, I have a high schooler. I know I’m  not just looking at this through mommy goggles, either. My lifelong friend Rob’s comment about our Christmas picture— “Holy crap, that’s Ace?”— just cements that it’s unbelievable. Ace will be going to college in two and a half years and I am soaking up the moments we are all together. I am basking in the times we can just be.

This may be uber-over-the-top-sappy, but this is my life right now and I am unapologetic in recording it all in my heart and head and blog to tuck away for those moments later when he will be off doing awesome things and we are just left missing him.

Ellen: I would be making fun of you right now but, *sob* I have a ninth grader. And I’ll miss Ace, too.

Erin: Okay. Somebody pass me a tissue. And a cocktail. I have to go sign him up for driver’s ed. 

 

2. Alone Time With Our Husbands

 Ellen: Not every household is made up of two parents, but if yours is, you have to work to keep that relationship strong.

Erin: And that means vanquishing the guilt over spending time away from your kids! It is more than okay to spend time on your relationship/marriage. Think of it as a gift to your kids. And your sanity.

Ellen: And here’s a little Sisterhood Secret for you: The more routine you make it, the easier it is for you to maintain and for your kids to accept.

Erin: Swap with friends . . .

Ellen: She means babysitting kids, not husbands.

Erin: Put it in the budget, tell family members to give you babysitting instead of gifts, spend a small fortune on camps. Do whatever it takes. 

Ellen: A night in a hotel can really readjust your meter for not sweating the small stuff. If you know what I mean.

 

3. Writing Things Our Kids Can Read

Ellen: I am constantly preaching to my children about not offering up anything to the internet machine that they don’t want to see immortalized forever. And since we are more lead-by-example kinds of mommas, we try to keep it PG-13 around here, even up there in point #2.  I keep a heavy lid on my robust swearing habit in real life, so why let the bombs fly here? Where it can be Googled.

Erin: We also try to be fair and kind and to not write anything that is going to be hurtful or offensive. But we’re not saints,and we’re not perfect.

Ellen: The one group we don’t honor are those poor souls who have lost their senses of humor.

Erin: But hey, it’s a hard knock life for those buttercups anyway, so what are you going to do?

Ellen: But maybe we should set the filter standards higher for the pictures we post.

Ellen and Erin: NAH!

Purty as princesses.

 

4. Our Blogging Cooperation – Bloggeration

Erin: We are not gonna lie to you. It takes some a very specific friendship to be able to blog together like we do. I swear I can handle Ellen, because her voice sounds an awful lot like my husband’s in my head. 

Ellen: Alright! I have one thing that could change for 2013! Could you please stop saying that? Creepers.

Erin: You know what I mean. I need your “type” in my life—the type that brings me down to earth and keeps it real. You even share the same birthday. How’s that for creepers??  

But the truth is that among the many other things we have learned from blogging together this year, we’ve also figured out when to walk away and when to give some slack.

Ellen: Interesting. You are truly one of the most forgiving and easy-going people I know . . . except when you’re not. Which leads us to our next point . .

 

5. Bunco

Erin:   Dear sweet well-intentioned friends, please do not invite me to Bunco. Bring on Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, even Just Dance 4!  I rock at real games. But this “game” makes me yearn for that dark beast of board games, Chutes and Ladders —the game that subjects adults to hours of mind-numbing climbing and sliding repetitive hell.

Oh, but Bunco is about socializing and hanging out and drinking lovely girl-y drinks, you say!  You love all that, you say! Well, the little BUNCO dice are the evil overlords of fun and they seem hell-bent on interrupting my good time flow. They determine where you sit, who you hang with, and where you move. I will have just settled into my chair with my cocktail when I am sent packing because I didn’t roll 3s. Makes me tweak-y.

Ellen: And rant-y. Good grief. Dude, I just think you don’t like to be told what to do. You’re not comfortable unless you are the Grandmaster Game Master. What was that guy’s name in Saw? If anyone wants to invite me to a night out with friends, snacks, and wine, tweet me up.

Erin: Oh my word. Moving on . . .

 

6. Hobbit

Ellen: I know we just said we aim to not purposely offend anyone, but we are making an exception with The Hobbit. We are just not entertained by hairy barefooted fantastical little freaks. We are not going to see it.

Erin: Not in a theater, not in a plane.

Ellen: Not on Showtime, or Netflix, or even on a train.

Erin: Not out of Redbox or Xbox, because it would drive us insane.

Ellen: We’re just not going to view it, have we made ourselves plain?

Erin: We’re hoping our love for Dr. Seuss counteracts your offense springing from our hatred for hobbits. 

Full disclosure: Erin’s whole clan saw it to mixed reviews. 3 out of 5 stars.

 

7. Fat Pants Free Zone

Ellen: This one is my rant, but Erin is whittling away so she is chucking fat pants away left and right. I, on the other hand, have one pair of jeans that fits me and a whole GAP store full of jeans that are just a little snug —  if, by snug, I meant like a freakin’ tourniquet. But I am not buying any “fat pants.” I will lose the Fifteen (lbs) After Forty (years) and triumphantly wear my wardrobe again. This I pledge for I am Sparticus! Too dramatic?

Erin: Absolutely not. Just try not to burn Athens in your wake.

Don’t hate Erin because she looks like she’s wearing clown pants.

 

 8. The War and Peace Trap

Erin: If the last one was all you, then this one is all me and has been for like 15 years. Every year, I always have the best intentions of reading Tolstoy’s War and Peace and every year I find about 52 books I would rather read more. Every year, I think roping my pals into doing it too means that I’ll actually follow through. And every year, a handful of lovely, sweet victims, er, I mean friends, add this tome to their list of  “have-read”s while it remains solidly on my “to-do” list.

Ellen: How many times has this happened?

Erin: I’m out of digits.

Ellen: And let the record show I have never fallen for this trap.

Erin: But this is the year! It’s gonna happen.

Ellen: Not. Falling. For. That. One.

 

9. We are Fourth Decaders One Directioners

Erin: In fact, if anything, we’re kickin’ it up a notch.

Ellen: We are going to see One Direction in concert! That’s right! We are going to stand in the midst of throngs of hormonal teen and tween girls and sing our little hearts out making memories all the while.

Erin: <singing> That’s what makes us beautiful.

Ellen: And smart. We got huge Mom Points on this one. And it was the easiest Mom Points ever, because you know I love them.

The lads and Ellen had a brilliant Christmas.

 

10. Christmas Decorations

Ellen: As we have stated before, we are very traditional and sentimental about our Christmas decorations.

Erin: But let’s face it, we are also very pressed for time in December. So, we’re considering just leaving them up until next year. Save some hassle.

Ellen: Never mind we both have live trees.

Erin: Well, how about just the outside ones, you know, because mine were so spectacularly gorgeous.

Yes, we realized that there were shorts in the line. No, we didn’t fix it. Yes, you should be very grateful that we are not your neighbors.

 

Ellen: The kicker is you actually chose to plug that sadness in every. single. night. And your next door neighbor looked like the scene below. I think you have enough bulbs there to spell out “Ditto.”

Erin: Yeah, I’ll file that suggestion away for next year. Somewhere . . . where the Christmas lights don’t shine.

 

 

So, whether you decide to make a resolution this year or not, we both hope you have a great new year. You can definitely start out on the right foot by checking out Monday Listicles and exploring some of the great bloggers there. It’s easy. You can do it in your pajamas. So get over there already!!

— Ellen and Erin

 

 

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Pintershizz: The New Year’s Eve Edition

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Here at the Sisterhood, we are huge fans of Pinterest. We have over 3,900 pins to prove it. But you have to be wary of the Pintershizz. It can lead you to lose your mind by goading you to go over the top or, more benignly, it can just be pure entertainment. Pure, disturbing, entertainment. The problem is when you fall for executing the Pintershizz and end up getting Pinter-punked. Pinterest fails are tragic, y’all.

Erin: Do you really want to start out the new year with such negativity?

Ellen: Well, how about this? We ended 2012 getting Pinter-punked?

Erin: It’s really more accurate. And it would be ABSOLUTELY accurate is you said YOU ended 2012 by getting Pinter-punked.

Ellen: All I wanted to do was bring a fancy schmancy cocktail to your house for New Year’s Eve. Pinterest was full of them and I had been so impressed when the Michalaks showed up at the last soiree with this refreshing gem of their own creation.

Raspberry-Vodka-Seltzer-Michalak

 

Erin: Why didn’t you just bring that?

Ellen: Because I wanted to be different and if you never DO or MAKE any of the crap you pin, isn’t it just electronic hoarding?

With a start this Martha Stewart-esque, what could go wrong?

Erin: Well your prep basket was Pinterest-worthy, but what made you choose The Kahlua Float?

Ellen: It looked gorgeous. I love Kahlua. It had champagne. What is more perfect for New Year’s Eve than a cocktail that has champagne??

Erin: Okay, but what about the coffee ice cream? I have to tell you, coffee ice cream makes me want to gag.

Ellen: You might be missing the point. What SHOULD have made ME gag was the thought of coffee ice cream IN white wine. Here’s the recipe: 1 scoop espresso or coffee ice cream, 1.5 oz Kahlua, topped with  1/8 cup champagne. Ew! Who puts ice cream in wine??? My only defense is that I was enchanted by this photo.

champagne and ice cream

 

 

Erin: Or maybe it failed because you rednecked it up. Nice plastic glass. And it probably would have been better if you had used chocolate sprinkles.

What??

 

Ellen: First, I expected you to have champagne flutes or at the very least, wine glasses for me to use. I really brought the plastic cups for the root beer floats for the kids. Second, it was not the sprinkles. So I got caramel jimmies instead of chocolate. Walmart was out.

Erin: Redneck point punctuated . . .

Ellen: You just go on throwing stones at my plastic cups. I was not going to multiple stores to find chocolate sprinkles. Have you ever tasted a sprinkle? By itself? No matter what flavor they say they are, they taste like nothing. They are flavorless hydrogenated calorie bombs. One tablespoon is 60 calories.

Erin: Get out! That’s crazy! So if you have an ice cream cone covered in sprinkles, you really could have another  scoop of ice cream for the same amount of calories? So I’m going back to my original statement, but with more venom. This drink failed because sprinkles are the devil.

Ellen: Okay, I’ll go along with sprinkles being the Trojan Horse of calories and they are miserable to drink through or around . . .

Erin: But it was super fun to pick them out of your scarf and I even think I got some in my hair. And down my shirt.

Ellen: Don’t forget getting them up your nose. But back to my points. This drink failed because it was ice cream in wine! Coffee ice cream, no less, in white FIZZY wine. What was I thinking?? I went back to the original blog post and there were lots of comments saying how pretty the drink looked, but not much about its taste.

We just realized we coordinated. How cute is that? Now you can gag too.

 

Erin: You were lured in by the pretty picture! We did enjoy the Kahlua over the ice cream, though. That was yummy.

Ellen: But it was hardly a cocktail.

Erin: Maybe you should have consulted me first. My Rein-Beer at the Christmas party was a hit. I have never been steered down the merry pathway of Pintershizz. I read the directions and can just tell if its going to be good or not.

So Proud

 

Ellen: Well, la-di-da! Aren’t you the Princess of Pinterest? You twisted some pipe cleaners and glued some googly eyes. Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back. I’ve never gotten steered wrong like this either. One of my superpowers is picking out good recipes.

Erin: I don’t need to pat myself on the back because I’m wearing the tiara. I think your “Super Recipe Picker Outer” cape would go nicely with it.

Ellen: And on that note. . .

Happy New Year from The Sisterhood!

May 2013 bring you health, wealth, and enough wisdom to avoid stepping in the Pintershizz.

 

 

 Read the entire Pintershizz series!

And while you’re at it, just follow us on Pinterest too. We usually pick good pins, we swear.

 

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Apparently There Is Only So Much Norman Rockwell To Go Around

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Erin: Last week in The Sisterhood we had a very Freaky Friday, er, Saturday,  kind of thing going on. The kind of thing that made me want to do something like this . . .

Ellen put a kibosh on this one. Especially since she ended up with the better end of the deal.

Ellen: Excuse me if I thought running full speed at each other into full-on belly slams was excessive, but maybe you would have gotten a concussion so you could‘ve forgotten about your Saturday. And forgotten about whining.

Erin: It was all over holiday decorating. In particular, the tree. My family has tree-getting down to an art. If it’s not quite Norman Rockwell, it is definitely good enough for Facebook bragging.

Ellen: This would normally be the point where I would scoff and ridicule, because Frank and I are traditionally The Home Depot sort of tree buyers. We don’t even take the kids with us. Don’t  judge or the Elf on the Shelf will get you. He hates self-righteousness as much as he seems to enjoy seeing all of his pranks archived on Pinterest. But not this year! We went full-on Christmas tree farm!

Erin: Didn’t you love it? I have fond memories from Decembers past of packing up the crew in their festive holiday garb — sometimes there are even hats — and heading to a local tree farm. We make a total day of it. Picking out the tree. Playing on the hay bales, singing carols, drinking hot chocolate, taking the classic poses by cardboard Santa measuring how much we have grown . . .

Ellen: And there it is.

Erin: What?

Ellen: My reason to pull your antlers. Singing carols in holiday hats? Did this really go down or are you remembering a Hallmark Hall of Fame Christmas special?

Erin: Oh, I have the pictures to prove it.

You know if you had hats as cool as these you’d wear them too! Unless you’re Ellen.

Ellen: Sometimes you make my snarky bone hurt, but I see your goofy hat and raise you a nuclear reactor, helicopter rides, playgrounds, pony rides . . .  and a teepee.

Erin: Are you sure you didn’t just cut a tree down on the set of Red Dawn?

The whole parade was delightful, but check out that eagle!

Ellen: No. On this gift of a perfect weather day, we went to Coleman’s Christmas Tree Farm — after attending our first local Christmas parade, which was delightful. Coco’s (14) high school marching band did such a great job.  We had the absolute best day. It WAS  Norman Rockwell — on steroids.

Erin: So how does a self-proclaimed Home Depot devotee happen upon such a place?

Ellen: We ended up there last year out of desperation. We got jammed and weren’t able to get our tree until the 15th. Every depot, mini-mart, and scout stand was all sold out. Unless this was your dream tree.

Visions of Charlie Brown trees swirled through her head.

Ellen –  Per tradition, Frank and I were by ourselves when magic Google found Coleman’s for us. We did have the parental decency to feel a wee bit shameful on the awesome wagon ride out to the field. Frank muttered, “This would probably be fun for the girls.”

So bam! We did it this year and it was epically fun. We are converts!  Just look at my man harvesting our tree.

No chainsaw for us! It’s like we ARE a Norman Rockwell painting.

Erin: I’m woman enough to admit that I’m feeling a twee bit of evil towards you.  Sort of like the evil vortex that hung over my whole tree day and sucked the Norman Rockwell right out of it. I suspected there might be trouble when they ALL woke up cranky. That’s a rarity. There’s usually at least one chipper bird in my nest of five. Instead, they all looked like this. . .

I wish I was kidding. They were just short of snorting fire and breathing venom.

Ellen: You need to learn when to tamp down your Mom-on-a-Mission tendencies.

Erin: Oh no. This was THE day, and no mounting evidence to the contrary was gonna change my mind. So we packed the camera and the cranky kids and headed to our favorite farm. Holiday spirit be damned: we were getting our tree today.

Ellen: I can’t imagine why things went downhill.

Erin: Well, once we got there, that ball of crap we were rolling really started to pick up steam. The minivan doors open and Charlie (11) sneak attacks Deacon (9) and boots him into a puddle of mud. This breach of familial etiquette causes Deacon to let off a scream completely incongruous to the event that had just transpired. (Just for the record, my vocabulary expands exponentially the pissier I get. When I start spewing 4 syllable words—Run!) Nothing says fa-la-la-la like halting the fun with a public time out in the middle of a parking lot full of witnesses.

Ellen: The towel should have been thrown in before you even left the house, Ms. Intractable. See, I know big words too.

Erin: Just wait. Five minutes later, everyone is roughhousing on the hay bales and the kids are clamoring to get their pictures taken in front of cardboard Santa. As I whip out the camera and back-pedal quickly because all I have is my zoom lens since I lost my camera bag,  my jingle bells  jangle even more because I have forgotten the SD card. Are you kidding me!?! My head  pounds like the little drummer boy on Mountain Dew as I frantically check my purse and the car for the missing card. At this point, my husband lobs a live grenade with his not-so-subtle jab at my forgetfulness, “Are you pregnant?”

Ellen: Seems legit . . . given the circumstances.

Erin: As Steve ducks to avoid the holiday left hook aimed for his head, the 14 year old girl child remembers that she has her iPod touch with her. Unfortunately, she drained it listening to One Direction on a continuous loop, so it’s zero help. Three pictures later, and this mess was recorded for posterity.

Ellen:  Barely. Did you think to use your phone? Oh, that’s right.  I had to give you instructions yesterday on how to take pictures with my phone . . . that is exactly like your phone.

Erin: Perhaps. Or it could be that I was distracted by the 5 year old nosediving off the hay bale. Amid the screams and recriminations, we put this stinker of a day down. Once and for all. There was a little lot of pre-cut trees right beside the barn. We wandered over with our spirits broken, pointed at one that looked about the right size, and we. were. done.

End Scene

Ellen: Just to be clear, I’m not trading days with you. Besides our end products were equally yuletide-y and this will all fade from everyone’s memory . . .

Erin: If we hadn’t written a post about it.

Ellen: That’s okay. The true secret of Christmas is you need a little Bah Humbug to make the joy all that more joyful.

Erin: And now you’ve made MY snarky bone hurt.

Which tree is Ellen’s and which tree is Erin’s? Hint: Erin’s is missing its topper. Ellen thinks it eloped with Erin’s missing camera bag.

 

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Get Your Christmas Party On! How to Eat, Drink, and Be Merry in 10 Pictures

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 ‘Tis the Season for imbibing, indulging, and ingesting all manner of fabulous food stuffs, but our favorite thing about holiday food is sharing it with family and friends. More specifically, The Sisterhood. The Sisterhood can throw some fantastic parties which means we break out the fancy clothes (read: no yoga pants allowed), ditch the kiddos, and pull out the industrial-strength hair products. If we are pulling out the blow-dryer, we mean business. So, without further ado, we bring you. . .

10 Things Holiday Party Food

1. On Dancer, on Prancer, on Brewsky, and Guinness!

One of the best things about a party is the drinks. And one of the best things about Erin perusing Pinterest is that she’s actually interested in getting her craft on. How do you think this self-professed non-crafter did with the Reindeer Beer?

 

2. Cheers!

Maybe beer isn’t your thing.  Truly, you need all the gastric vacancy possible so you can stuff your pie hole with all of the yumminess yet to come. Well, a great host, maybe someone like this man . . .

. . . will make you a pomegranate martini . . . in a margarita glass.

3. Hors d’oeuvres!

Appetizers are our favorites. In fact, we love them so much, we’ll forget to take pictures until after we’ve eaten our final crudité. We are certain that the martinis . . . and Guinness . . . and wine had nothing to do with the oversight.

Imagine perfectly seared tuna, scrumptious stuffed mushrooms, and a Tavern-on-the-Green-worthy beauty of a cheese board because all we can show you is the aftermath. Maybe a swarm of locusts blew through when we weren’t looking.

4. Crab cakes and tenderloin and roasted veggies! Oh my!

 

5. The food does not get into your belly on its own, People!

You saw what happened to the appetizers! You CANNOT assume there will be seconds. Hostess extraordinaire, Mary, to the rescue. We didn’t have to limit ourselves to a plate of food. We got a tray-full!

 

6. Everyone needs an Erin at their party.

There is no charm school on this green earth that can teach this. You either have it or you don’t.

 

7.  Cleanse your visual palette with dessert.

We do apologize that you can’t un-see Erin’s “see-food,” but how about this little darling of a dessert to bring your appetite back?

 

8. Fortify your cheer.

After all those carbs, a buzz can really start to lag. Time to move onto a Raspberry Vodka Seltzer.

 

9. Perform a spot inspection on the drink master.

Yeah, that’s right. Ellen’s drink was mixed on the top of the trashcan out of a stainless steel water bottle. Know what she did about it? Taunted everybody that she got the last one as she sucked that refreshing goodness down. She may or may not have broken out of that charm school we were mentioning. We’ll never tell.

 

10. Bonus Recipe: The Other Chocolate Cookie.

What do you get when you bake one trillion cakes for your daughter’s birthday? Besides the accolades of your adoring family, you get a completely decimated baker’s pantry. This can be a huge problem when you have to make chocolate cookies NOW and you have no time to run to the store. While Ellen is still a devoted fan of the beloved Tollhouse cookie (And so is Erin! This recipe inspires her kids to say this about her) sometimes you have to work with what you got. Bisquick to the rescue!

Bisquick simplifies the ingredient list and it makes a dough that is made for speed. It has a drier texture than Tollhouse cookie dough so it is super easy to work with and get onto the pans.  And these cookies barely spread so you can place them about one to one and a half inches apart, allowing you to bake more cookies at a time. These cookies are also a dream to get off of the pan. They easily come up with a spatula with nary a cookie lost to breakage. And the final perk? It transports so well! This is a sturdier cookie while still not being a hard.

As you can tell, we put food in its proper place in The Sisterhood, besides just our bellies, and we know how to wash it down too. Here’s a little “salut” from our peeps to yours this holiday season—an Irish Christmas blessing:

Nollaig faoi shéan is faoi shonas duit.
A prosperous and happy Christmas to you.

Full disclosure: Erin may have learned this blessing, NOT from her Irish father, but from the 24 bottles of Guinness she hot-glued antlers on.

 We’re available for your festivities, too. Just contact us at 443-555-HAWT.

 

 

 

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Happy Half-BLirthday!

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Ellen– Get it?

[Blog]+[Birthday]=[bLirth-day].  Six months ago, our blog went live and in the spirit of Sisterhood, we are sharing our bLirth story with you.

Erin– I still think we can call it a bLaunch…

How BLirthing is very different from pregnancy: You can drink to make it all better

Ellen- Ummmmm, no. Just no. Sounds like the noise the cat makes when she coughs up a hairball.  But I am really feeling the pregnancy metaphor.

We had only been gestating this baby for 2 ½ months, but you all know that feels twice as long in pregnancy time.

This blog was draggggggging out through the holidays—HALLOWEENTHANKSGIVINGCHRISTMASNEWYEARS.   I was tired of the whole thing.   I was begging for some relief. The only thing missing was swollen ankles.

Erin- So we did what any sensible mom would do.  We kicked the blog under the bed with the dust bunnies and walked away. FOR A MONTH. I once tried to mention the blog to Ellen, and she almost stroked out begging me not to discuss it.

Ellen– But then we got our Christmas miracle.  Steve surprised Erin with a MacBook Air.

Erin’s Steve, not this one.

Erin- Forget that he broke our “Hey, it’s a frugal Christmas” agreement.  Forget that I felt huge guilt when he was opening his dixie cups and chapstick (For real. We were supposed to be frugal, People, and, that’s right, I wrapped them, too. What of it?).  I was already posting on Facebook from my shiny, new Mac.

This sweet man in one grand gesture gave me the biggest, best vote of confidence in our blog. With one click, I dragged our blog out from underneath the metaphorical bed and blew off the dust. I loaded our site with everything we had written and then some.

Ellen- We are giving Steve props for getting us back on track. We were going to make everything perfect. We were going to finally birth this baby.  So we did what every sensible mom does, we made a plan.  We even made a date, for scheduling a date, to create our Facebook page and Twitter account.  Then with the good fortune that has constantly shone on this project, Elizabeth, our graphic designer, emailed us our banner.  Oooo, we could take a step forward!  Then came the email from our Tech Angel, Colleen: “Ok, I just added your header – let me know if you think you’re ready to go.”

Ready to go!?! I’m not ready to be a blogger!  What do I know about blogging? I made all kinds of excuses to Colleen about why we were not ready: no social media buttons, no contact form, blah, blah, blah.

I have to grab the HTML code? What? First world problems are hard.

As with all good “birthing” plans, ours was not worth the computer file space it was residing in.  I woke up the next morning, logged onto the site, and right before my very eyes, I could see Colleen adding the social media buttons.  Colleen was addressing every excuse, um, I mean barrier, that was preventing us from taking this blog live.  The Sisterhood’s water had broken, and things were starting to move.

I was not entering this bLirth-ing room alone!  I picked up my phone to call Erin and… nothing. Direct to Voicemail.  No response to text.  No response to email.

Erin– To quote one text from Ellen: “I am dying of excitement.  Colleen is pimping out our site so we can go live!  AHHHHHH! Please call me when you get a chance DesiSmileys.com. I will respectfully continue to blow up your phone with every new development. ”

Ellen is using an emoticon.  She means business, but she doesn’t want to yell at me.  Yet.  Good grief.

Ellen –  Soooo, no response still.  Whatever.  This thing was happening.  Over the next 6 hours I proceeded to add some “final touches” to the site.  This blog was not ready for prime time.  I was laboring in the bLirth-ing room alone, people!  A-lone!  I felt abandoned like an iPad on the day they launch version “so-much-better-than-the-one-you-just-maxed-your-credit-card-out-on-three-weeks-ago.”

Erin- You are such a PC. Don’t be a hater.

Meanwhile, I was exactly where I told her I would be— teaching Advanced Math to middle schoolers.  After 13 years at home, I was dipping my toe back into a classroom as a substitute.  No horror stories to tell, but I couldn’t have been more difficult to reach if I were on the moon or at the bottom of a well.  When class ended, I checked my phone.  Ellen was summoning me, in ABUNDANCE,  back to the blog.

Ellen- FINALLY, my phone rang.  Erin was like, “Hey, I got your four emails and ten texts during math class.  Deleted your Voicemail.  I guess we’re starting today.”  Someone needed to go to some bLirth-ing classes, because this was clearly not the enthusiastic, supportive response required.

Erin- Oh, I wanted to revel in our moment.  I did. But jumping back into the classroom was the easy part of my day.  When I got home, an afternoon was brewing unlike any I have had since the days of endless sippy cups and potty-training.  

Cue a rising jungle beat crescendo. Serious stuff was going down at home. And Ellen needed my input. A LOT. On this of all days, my kids decided to revert to their alter-egos Whiny, Clingy, Punchy, Needy, and Snotty. 

someecards.com - Six out of seven dwarfs AREN'T Happy.

Something to ponder, hmmmmm

Charlie was in a panic, because his report wouldn’t print. He was on the verge of a breakdown.  Apparently, he had lost all memory of how to choose printers from the menu bar. Click. Crisis averted.

RRRIIIINNNGGGG (or really, new/age zen crap stanza)

Ellen- What do you want our Twitter user name to be?

Erin- Simultaneously, Biddie lost it.  Middle School is a vicious creature and was having its way with her. I needed to talk her out of her tree.  Hug.  Crisis averted.

RRRIIIINNNGGGG

Ellen- You have to “Like” our Facebook page for me to easily make you an Admin.

Erin- Charlie, now buoyant from his printer triumph, was wrestling with Deacon and Eddie all over the house.  At one point, they were perched together on the back of a chair like spider monkeys wrapped in headlocks.  Mommy yell.  Boys sent to their corners. Crisis averted.

Ellen- Yeah, I heard that one go down over the phone.  She might be sugar-coating it a bit.

Erin- Then Ace joined the fun. He couldn’t find his soccer referee card that he needed to be recertified.  Not in his room, his ref bag, his wallet, the wash. He was hyperventilating into a bag. Found the website and got his ID # electronically. Crisis averted.

RRRIIINNNGGGG

Ellen- Do you care if we have a gravatar before we launch?

Erin- And then my parents pick THIS moment to call. AND they want to talk about booking our summer vacation. AND they are not tech-savvy. AND they want my help. Oy. I might cry or kill someone.

Ellen- Erin is the best. In the middle of all that was going down in her home, she took every phone call to answer every question.  I did giggle directly in her ear that SHE is her parents’ tech guru.

Erin- This was not an ideal environment to be having a moment, even a great one like the birth of our blog, with Ellen.  But that’s the way life rolls. It’s coming whether you are ready or not.

Ellen-  So, in the midst of Erin’s maelstrom, on January 11, 2012 at 5:47pm, I got the text from Colleen that we were live.  We were the proud creators of a bouncing, brand-new blog!  As I gleefully watched the visit counter spiral upward, I was so grateful that Colleen “bLaunched” us from our nest.  We needed the push.

Erin- Aww, look at you, using “bLaunch.”  And I was grateful too. The Sisterhood Secret: By all means, plan, but (and we are totally stealing this from Nike), in the end,  JUST DO IT.  Time to get blogging!! Happy Half-BLirth-day to us!

 

 

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