Pages - Menu

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Playing with chocolate

Melting chocolate for the purpose of making lollipops is not nearly as easy as it sounds. I was pretty sure that chocolate + heat = melted chocolate, which is why I decided to take on the task of making 30 whale lollipops for my baby shower this past Sunday. Who knew it wouldn't be quite that simple? This chick right here.

Good news is that after two days of trying, failing, and trying again, they still turned out fabulous.


This whole project began when I decided to make shower invitations with whales on them. It wasn't intentional that the theme would ultimately become whales and pastels, but that's what happened. I wanted to make favors that would be cute, simple, and not cost a lot of money because I'm cheap frugal. Nan had the genius idea to make chocolate lollipops, and I was on board. I found these cute happy whale molds on Amazon for $3 a piece and bought two. 

Fast forward to last week when we had all of our chocolate lollipop making supplies. Here's how round 1 went down:


1. Nan bought melting chocolate because duh, it's supposed to melt when you follow the instructions. Which is what we did... almost. 
2. We started with the double broiler method, which was a fail from the get go because we were too eager to realize that the top pan is NOT supposed to be immersed in the water of the bottom pan. It looked like we were baking a cake - that chocolate would not melt and we couldn't figure out why.
3. We decided to try the microwave method exactly as it was explained on the bags of melting chocolate. FAIL. Just as we thought would happen, the microwave only ended up burning the chocolate.
4. In a last ditch effort I thought that maybe the yellow chocolate was defective and perhaps the green would respond to microwave melting better. Well... it didn't. 

So we scratched the whole thing for that night. The next day Nan returned the melting chocolate for some white chocolate chips instead, hoping these little buggers would make for an easier time. Here's how round 2 went:


1. Good ol' Nestle white chocolate. The melting instructions were basically the same. We just hoped that for whatever reason it would be different this time. And it was - thank you!
2. This time we decided to do the double broiler method correctly. The key is patience... don't stir the morsels until they are shiny and starting to melt. 
3. Once the morsels are shiny and melty looking, take the top pan off the bottom and stir/fold the chocolate until it gets to a more liquid/viscous state, as shown. This was the AHA moment. The chocolate can now be poured into the molds.
4. We lost a few soldiers due to air bubbles. Make sure to shake the tray back and forth a few times and check the bottom before putting the mold into the refrigerator to set.

After this I got into a rhythm, but it still took another trip to the store for more chocolate chips and another morning to complete the task. With the help of some food coloring I gave the happy white whales a new look.


Overall I'd say this was worth the time and frustration - people loved the pops. And the whale pop tree looked pretty snazzy next to our delicious cake, don't you think?


Sunday, June 16, 2013

Let's hear it for the boys

It's Father's Day, and while I'm feeling all gushy about the dad-to-be in my life, I'm full of love for the other men who have helped shape me into the person I am today. The Fancy Men, a special breed of male. Hearty, stubborn, resourceful, intelligent, and complete softies. I love 'em all...


Grandpa Fancy AKA Gramps, I've talked about this man quite a bit. He's a true family guy, steadfast in preserving tradition and always available to offer a helping hand to those who need it. He was the one who opened his home to me and Evan when we needed to leave an apartment fast. We would have been in a serious pickle if it weren't for Gramps.

And let's talk about commitment. Gramps made my Grandma his wife and never looked back. He supported her and his family of four children until the kids were grown and moved on. When Grandma fell ill, he stayed right by her side until her dying day. They were married for 56 years. I can only hope that Evan and I will make it that long and be that devoted to each other.


Uncle Butch. He'd probably be furious if I wrote his real name ;) But he's always been Butch, and always will be. Butch and I had a great relationship when I was really young, and then my cousin Sarah was born. Much like a younger sibling, I think I struggled a bit sharing the attention with her. And so we had our moments, both being Fancy's an all, when he and I would compete in yelling matches after family dinner on Thursday nights.

Then Butch remarried and I grew very close to his stepdaughter. We were troublemakers, there's no way around it. Butch didn't have much patience for our shenanigans and we were constantly getting yelled at. This made me feel quite distant from him for many years. Of course, I look back on these times now and laugh.

Things came full circle as I grew older (and wiser), and the more I came to admire and respect my uncle. He's so much like Gramps, you see. It did help that he softened a bit as the years went on. Over the past few years he has been there for me in ways that no other man aside from my dad has been.


Dad. The one and only. I've been missing this man terribly since he passed in December of 2008. Sometimes I can't believe how long it's been since I've seen him. All of the memories I've created over the past four years and I haven't been able to call him up or share photos with him. But I remember with great fondness the 20 years that I did have with him.

He use to take me to Denny's for a late breakfast. We'd sit at the bar and he'd order me a Grand Slam, a breakfast much too big for any 10-year-old to be scarfing down. I was an avid wrestling fan because of him. We spent many nights in front of the TV rooting for our favorites and booing the bad guys. My dad and I also had the best movie nights. It was our thing, to go to the movie store a few blocks from our house to pick out two or three movies to watch over the weekend. I also credit my NES gaming skills to my dad.

My dad was always carting me and my friends around to the mall, to the movies, to other friends houses, and he rarely complained about it. He took me driving when I was 16 and exposed me to some great music of the 60's and 70's when I was growing up. "Taking Care of Business" will forever be our song.

My dad always had my back, no matter what. He was proud of me and he let me know. He supported my decisions and was always open to listen to what I had to say. It may have taken me a while to realize, but my dad was just as much a family man as his own father. Despite everything that stood in his way, my dad loved and cared about his family above and beyond anything else and I will never forget that.


And then there's this guy, Ev AKA Baby Daddy. Just kidding, I don't call him that. Ever.

He's the biggest goofball I've ever met, but also the most patient and caring. He has an adventurous spirit and an old soul, bringing out that side of me that I always knew existed but had a difficult time tapping into. My life has bloomed into something beautiful since he became a part of it and in just two short months we'll be sharing our biggest accomplishment with the world: our daughter.

So this is for all the wonderful men out there - Happy Father's Day to you all!

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Side Table Re-Do

In the past few weeks I've managed to help put a brand new grill together, move our bedroom to a different floor, build a crib, and even re-do a piece of furniture. It's been a while since I've gotten my hand on a lovely piece of trash and turned it into something pretty.

Cue this nifty little side table, scooped up from the curb while there was still snow on the ground...


He sat in the garage for several months, just waiting for me to find the motivation to get 'er done. Of course I had to wait for the weather to let up, but once we started planning our relocation to the "lower level", I knew I had to make this piece worthy of our new space.

I cleaned him up and sanded him down, then went off in search of some paint. There's paint cans galore throughout this house, some of which belong to us and some to the owner. Not all are usable and I ended up opening a couple that needed to be tossed. Luckily I stumbled upon some white paint that would do the trick.


I did the first coat with a really coarse paint brush and hated the way it came out. So I whipped out the sponge brush and got to work applying the second and third coats, which made for much nicer, smoother coverage. Sponge brushes are my new favorite thing.

The top of the table wasn't in bad shape, and once I had the bottom painted white I knew I wanted to stain the top.


I used one thick coat of Minwax Special Walnut and let it sit for about 10-15 min before wiping it off. Then this little guy sat in the garage to dry completely for another day or so before he made his debut downstairs.

Stella wakes up from her morning nap to get in on the action.
I was worried that without some kind of sealer on top we would ruin the finish, but so far so good. The table was free and all supplies were on hand, so even if he does get a little banged up I won't be sad. This project came in at a grand total of $0, my favorite price!

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Time Warp

Has it really been 2 months since I last updated? Yes, yes it has.

What the hell have I been doing? Let's recap...

I was bartending at work up until April-ish when it was more or less decided that the longer hours, climbing up and down ladders, and heaving cases of beer probably wasn't a good idea anymore. So I switched over to serving, which has resulted in a cut back in hours (and cash -- sigh) but as we get closer and closer to a hot and humid summer, I'm realizing this is the best route for me to take. Especially since the belly is almost completely blocking the view of my feet now:


I'm also reminded as Memorial Day is upon us that I have less than 3 months to go. Gone are the days of eating saltines and drinking ginger ale and hugging the porcelain throne at night. What is still ahead are a couple more months of inevitable weight gain, a belly that will increasingly make it more difficult to do basic things like bend over and get out of bed, and most likely feeling really, really hot and sweaty thanks to long stretches of 90+ degree days.

But then August will be here, I'll turn 25 and little one may or may not get here before that happens. In the meantime, I've begun to nest...

A space that started out like this:



Quickly turned into a teenager's dream bedroom. Then I got preggo and after a few months of deliberating Ev and I decided that our current bedroom just wouldn't provide enough space for us and the baby, so we set out to claim this lovely retro "lower level" as our own. Over the past week it has transformed into this...



Since this house is a rental, there's not a whole lot we can do about the crazy red rug or the dark wood paneling or the linoleum stairs or the boob lights... BUT with some great finds on Craigslist (2 Ikea Poang chairs for $30 a piece, a 9x13 area rug for $75) plus some other great discounted finds like our Nate Berkus duvet cover from Target, marked down from $90 to $45, and two burlap shaded lamps from Marshall's coming in at $18 and $20, I'd say we've done a decent job making this space cozy. To be able to carve out an ample sleeping/living/baby space in an otherwise small 2-bedroom rented house (while living with 3 other women) is nothing short of a victory.

Now all we need is baby to complete the space :) And lots and lots of diapers.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

And the winner is...

Then plan was to not find out. To go team green all the way to the end.

But now that we know, I want to shout it out for the whole world to hear.

Before I do, I need to reflect on getting to this point of acceptance. Because that's how it feels to me, like I have accepted this challenge. My new role as a mother, a parent, a caregiver, a nurturer, a source of comfort, information, a safe haven...

For the past 20 weeks I have been meandering through life as my body makes subtle, and not so subtle, changes. The ickyness of the first trimester feels like eons ago. I've been relatively laid back, calm, collected. Overall, not too concerned about an event that feels like years away, even though in the back of my head I know it will be here in no time.

I expected to feel some movement from the inside by this point, but thanks to an anterior placenta I'll probably have to wait another week or two before I can confirm that was indeed a kick. But not to fret, I realize there are scientific explanations for everything so I haven't worried.

Before even learning I was pregnant, I decided that I wanted my first child to be a boy. Mostly for Ev's sake, since he has always been outnumbered and still is in our household. I've heard people say that boys are easier than girls, and for a minute I thought there was some truth to it. But that's kind of silly. Kids are kids and yes, while there are differences between boys and girls there's no predicting what our child will be like.

I think I was scared at the prospect of raising a girl. Especially one born right around the same time I was. I kept thinking, if this child is anything like me, what will I do? I was introverted yet rambunctious, an only child who was spoiled early on and rather unsatisfied as I grew older. I had friends but I was lonely. I was stubborn yet unmotivated at times. Confused and left up to my own devices in many aspects of my life. I dealt with body issues, boy issues, depression, anxiety. But I became a mindful and very capable adult.

The idea of raising a child, boy or girl, does feel overwhelming. Knowing that I need to be there, even when it gets hard, helps me realize that this is my ultimate challenge. I'm going to be available to this child in ways that others in my life never were and never could have been. And will this child be anything like me? Maybe not. They'll probably be completely different.

Which is why we said, up until yesterday, that it doesn't matter if it's a boy or girl. All we can ask for is a happy, healthy baby with ten fingers and ten toes and a strong heart.

That's exactly what we have.


It's a girl... and she's happy to see ya.