The Best Lasagna Ever – The Pioneer Woman
Spicy Pulled Pork – The Pioneer Woman (apparently, this one’s cookbook exclusive – I can’t find it online)(it was not spicy)
Drip Beef Sandwiches – The Pioneer Woman
Peach Crisp with Maple Cream Sauce – The Pioneer Woman (Yeah, I’m a fan. In case you didn’t already know. It doesn’t help that I just bought her cookbook.)

Not pictured (because it was after the fair and I was too tired to remember: Mini Meatball Sandwiches – The Pioneer Woman

Fish Tostadas with Chili-Lime Cream – Better Homes & Gardens
Gnocchi with Spinach and Goat Cheese – originally from Giada but I can’t find it, posted in the comments here by my friend Merin
Marinated Chicken with Cucumber Mint Salad – Martha Stewart
No-knead Lemon Rosemary Bread – Williams-Sonoma (mine is torn out of a catalog from Christmas 2 years ago)

And then we ate leftovers, leftovers, leftovers, LEFTOVERS.

What did you eat this week?

(P.S. If you’ve noticed a sudden spike in the number of photo collages here on ye olde blog, it’s because I just discovered Picasa & I’m OBSESSED. It does everything from little edits like removing red eye to cool effects to watermarking photos. Why did no one tell me about it before? <—- not a paid endorsement)

So for the second time in two days I’m going to link over to Mandy’s blog, this time because of the super cute things she made with her thrift store finds.  Maybe I link because I want her to like me or maybe it’s just because she’s awesome and inspires me all the time. Seriously, my comments on some of her posts are almost as long as the posts themselves. Because I’m a crazy person.

Sometimes the crazy comes in handy though, like when I volunteered to take some of the stuff left over from our charity tag sale to Goodwill and this picture frame “accidentally” forgot to make it out of my van. I had very crafty hopes for it.

Please ignore the rest of the crafting junk - it's from my "good intentions that never go anywhere" collection. It's quite extensive.

It doesn't have a back but it still had the glass - very well attached I might add, despite my best attempt to pry it out before I painted it.

When we put in the island a couple weeks ago I decided what I needed was a message board over it to keep a running shopping/to-do/where-am-I list. So that’s what this frame has been re-purposed as.

I used two slightly differnt shades of white paint because that's what I happened to have in the basement. Plus I was going for an antiquey kind of look.

Then I glued some fabric to the back (left over from when I recovered the dining room chairs). Of course, I tried to stretch it rather than do a proper job ironing it so you can see the crease. I think I'll take it off the wall and try to iron it now. Or I'll just live with it because it's the sort of non-perfection my house is full of. Probably that second one.

Regular dry erase markers work great on glass and come off with just a swipe of a damp paper towel. I know it's a little harder to read than a white board but SO MUCH cuter, don't you think?

Man, now I’m in one of those crafty moods that end with a trip to Michael’s and the purchase of a specialty paper cutting machine that I use once and then ends up gathering dust on my dining room table. No good can come of this.

—————————————————

So apparently enough of you took my begging seriously to get me nominated for a BlogLuxe Award! I’m under the “funniest” category along with some of the most hilarious, talented, amazing blogs on the internet (so I have no chance of actually winning) but I would love your vote anyways! While you’re over there check out some of my other favorite bloggers in the other categories and show them some love. You can vote once a day between now and July 12th, no registration required although it does make you confirm you’re a real person via email. Hey, if zombies and robots are out maybe there’s a chance I can beat The Bloggess after all!

I am declaring WAR. An all-out battled to the death from which no one emerged unscathed and the casualties will be severe. The target of the impending attack: MY FLOORS.

With a dog and two cats, pet hair has always been a problem, but the kind I could generally solve with a broom and the occasional damp paper towel. But add a baby to the mix and suddenly the pet hair dust bunnies grow into tumbleweeds of Cheerios and Goldfish crackers and bits of sandwich and half chewed fruit and sticks and leaves and the kind of foot-blackening dirt that sticks to the floor unless you scrub it with straight bleach and a toothbrush. If I don’t sweep, dry Swiffer, wet Swiffer, mop and vacuum EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. the baby gets so covered in dirt he looks like that kid from Charlie Brown who vibrates with grime. I can’t take him out in public after 3 pm out of fear someone will call CPS. And if CPS comes to my house I’m SCREWED.

I took up the rug this weekend (sidenote: what the HELL was I thinking when I picked out a shag rug for the family room? It’s basically a giant upside down yarn mop that traps every crumb and hair and is IMPOSSIBLE to clean) thinking it would be easier to do a quick mid-day sweep of just the hardwood floor but all it did was create a barren desert for the dirt tumbleweeds to tumble across. Plus my problem with sweeping wasn’t so much rug-related as 300-wooden-blocks-two-dozen-chuck-the-trucks-four-sippy-cups-and-a-partridge-in-a-pear-tree-scattered-acr0ss-my-floor-related.

The most permanent solution to my problem is to get rid of the pets, although I don’t think I can bring myself to actually do that. (A quick Google search for “how long do cats live” reveals no hopeful results.) I suppose the other thing I could do is restrict snacks and meals to the high chair but the idea of making Baby Evan sit still for the 7 or 8 hours a day he’s eating something is laughable. I think he would rather give up food than be strapped in a chair that often – and since I JUST got him to eat I’m not doing anything that might hurt his love of stuffing his face.

So I’m left with war. The kind of furniture moving deep cleaning usually only reserved for the holidays or right before my mother comes. (CRAP. My mother is coming TOMORROW.) I’ll buy stock in Swiffer and reacquaint myself with my Dustbuster. I will pick up toys three times a day instead of once. I will not rest until the baby can strip naked, dump a cup of juice on his head and roll across the room without a single speck of dirt sticking to his body.

Ok, maybe that’s a little too ambitious. But I’ve got to do something.

—————————————————————————————–

They reset the list on Top Baby Blogs so all that begging I did last week was useless. If you could take a second to click on the link below – and then click in the middle of the screen where it says “Vote here!” – I’d really appreciate it. The click is your vote, you don’t have to find me on the list but I encourage you to check out the other blogs over there – TONS of awesome moms (and dads).

Bullet point 1: I am writing this in the fastest possible way, since my laptop is seconds away from conking out completely thanks to one small person’s habit of ripping the power cord out. It’s now broken and won’t charge at all. New power cord is on its way, until then consider these my last words to you. FAREWELL CRUEL WORLD.

Bullet point 2: You’d think I had some sort of brain damage or been dropped on my head and suffered severe memory loss from all the wailing and complaining I’ve done over Baby Evan’s teething woes. His molars are certainly not his first teeth ever and we got through the last ones relatively unscathed with Tylenol, teething tablets, camila and an amber necklace. All of those have again been located and I have high hopes that in the next 48 hours we will no longer be a family of exhausted, screaming zombies.

Bullet point 3: Although it cost us more than we wanted/could afford to spend, our new kitchen island is already the best investment we’ve ever made. My counter space has literally DOUBLED and my cabinets are no longer overflowing with small appliances that threaten to fall on my head as soon as I reach for a cookbook or a Tupperware container.

Observe:

A reminder of what the space used to be: a giant suck of shoes and crap. Only you can't really tell in this picture since it's from the home tour, when I hid all our junk.

A more accurate view of the space, after the Great Electrical Outlet Incident of 2010

And now we have this. The drawers AND the cabinet have no-slam hardware so never again will the baby pinch his fingers. We're living the high life, let me tell you.

The back side of the island, where we can put a couple of stools. Which means a) we now have an EAT-IN KITCHEN and b) We aren't doomed to eat on the couch for the rest of our lives. Also c) I get to go to IKEA for some stool shopping.

Look at all that space. Fantastic. I have the urge to bake a dozen pies. Or maybe just lick it. Oh and in case you were wondering, it's Corian, which I've always been very happy with.

This also means I have enough space to designate one drawer as specifically for Baby Evan. A Baby Evan drawer, if you will, full of plastic cookie cutters, old whisks, and sippy cups. No more spatula emergencies half way through making dinner when I realize they are all covered in dog hair and drool.

This may not be the kind of island most exhausted mothers dream of, but home improvement beats vacation around here every time. It lasts longer and you don’t end up with a sunburn or sand up your butt. At least, not so far.

I should also give a HUGE shout out to the kitchen guy, Jim from Roger’s Kitchens. His attention to detail in installing the island in a really awkward space was AMAZING and he didn’t complain once about our uneven floor, crooked walls or weird moldings. He was on time both days and cleaned up every speck of dust. He was even great with Baby Evan! This isn’t an endorsed plug  in any way (not even close – we paid full retail price for that VERY EXPENSIVE island) but I think a good job done deserves some recognition. If you’re in the Eastern Connecticut area and need a recommendation for a custom kitchen guy, now you have one. Roger’s Kitchens. Love.