Friday, November 30, 2012

Merry Christmas: My Secret Recipe For Oreo Balls

"Sit down. Have some Oreo Balls. If I made them right, they should taste just like the aluminum tree."
Morning Readers,

The twins have got me running in circles today, so I thought this a great time to kick off the holiday season with one of my favorite recipes I originally shared with you last year. Next week, I'll have a new recipe for you, we'll find out if the Split-level has sunk through all the way to China, and I'll also be sharing tips on how to have a Christmas tree and toddlers in your house at the same time.

Enjoy!

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

We're Sinking ...Pass the Wine, So I Have Something To Hold On To

I wrote you a song. It's called, "You Ate So Much, the House Caved In."

Morning Readers,

I once read a statistic saying one-hundred-percent of houses tend to age at some point in their life.  And, I don't know about you, but I tend to take the inside of Dove wrappers very seriously.

I also take chocolate very seriously, so there's that.

Not surprisingly, the Split-level finally decided to age. From recent developments, I'm fairly confident it woke up one morning, looked around and thought, "Hmm, 1969 seems to be over. This place could use some cracks. Not actual crack. I'm not that type of house, but a few chasms, here and there, couldn't hurt."

And so it goes. This weekend, Husband and I did our part explaining to our family what seems to be the problem:

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Saturday Evening Special: An Angle's Worth A Thousand Words

World's best author/duck face. One which says, "I'm here. I write stuff. You stopped taking me seriously five seconds ago."
Evening Readers,

First off, I'm a little overwhelmed by the kind comments I received when I posted my Thanksgiving picture. You made a lady who's got stretch marks from the back of her neck to the tip of her toes feel pretty darn good.

However.

Please know, that picture was one of several tries. So, I thought it of great import, lest you think I'm some sort of one-take wonder who wasn't pressing her stomach in with her hands ...or, possibly making sure she wasn't photographing her belly from the side, to share some extras with you. After my little holiday photog experiment, I'm more than convinced, you always take a post-prego picture front and center.

Front and center, people.

But, make like Reading Rainbow and don't take my word for it. I present, "Paige and Husband's Photo Session: Thanksgiving 2012".

...or, as I also like to call it, "Are We Still Married After I Made You Do This, When All you Wanted To Do Was Watch a Movie? 2012".

Friday, November 23, 2012

What I Wore On Thanksgiving

Morning Readers,

Today I'm complying with a request from my lovely friend, Grace, over at Camp Patton. My sweet darlings, you know I'm not the biggest fan of taking pictures of myself, but, prompted by the courage coffee, a soundtrack of 50 Cent, and a few effects gifted from the awesome Pic Monkey, here it is.

...then again, you may all be out punching people in the face for the last of the Black Friday, dollar-fifty, mittens at your nearest retailer, so maybe none of you will see this.

Outfit:

Hair: Styled by the city's water supply

Feather Earrings: Spotted and bought off Pinterest (unsure what poor bird is currently flying lopsided)

Top/dress/tunic/frightening body garb being stretched to the limits: Forever 21

Sweater Tights: Target (stitched from the wool of one of the toughest sheep roaming the earth)

Boots: Steve Madden (upon reflection, would not have paired boots with this outfit and opted for black ones, but since I didn't look in the mirror before I left, thems the breaks. Also why Style Magazine has yet to offer me a job covering any fashion week ever.)

There you have it.

Now, get out there and shop bravely, my friends.

Until Next Time, Readers!




Wednesday, November 21, 2012

The Top Ten Things I Didn't Get To Be Thankful For This Year

"She says she's obviously not cooking this year, but you can come entertain the twins if you want."
Morning Readers,

I'm going to take a brief time-out from ironing my good leggings and giving a preliminary stretch to my Spanx, to wish you all the best for tomorrow. I'll be eating turkey and trying to keep the twins from hiding mashed potatoes in my Mother-in-law's heating vents.

But, before I sign off, I thought it'd be a good idea to mention everything I'm thankful for.

And then I thought about it for a while, and decided it would be better to mention everything I didn't get the chance to be thankful for.

No one ever mentions those things. Yet, here we are.


The Top Ten Things I Didn't Get A Chance To Be Thankful For In 2012

by

Paige Kellerman
(Someone who would've appreciated being grateful for at least one of these... hypothetically. None of them were tested, so she may not have wanted them at all. But she likes to think she would've. Is that a long enough introduction? Good. I can't think of what would be next. Stopping intro in 3..2...1 )

Monday, November 19, 2012

How to Fight With Your Spouse Without Them Knowing It

Milly had given Jeremiah the crazy eye the entire Christmas card session. Would he ever notice how upset she was? Or would more innocent daisies have to die, before justice was served? The carriage ride home was sure to be awkward.
Morning Readers,

This past week, a few things occurred to me. One, that I look great in chambray. And, two, I make it sound like I never fight with Husband.

Seriously, it's like the blue against my eyes wouldn't let me decide whether I looked like a young Bette Davis or a Young Joan Crawford from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? Magical.

(Disclaimer: For those of you who are new here, I'm not that old, yet make references to things that are much older than I. Don't try to figure it out. Embrace it, give it a one-shouldered awkward hug and keep walking.)

Friday, November 16, 2012

A Penny Saved is Probably Someone Else's


Afternoon Readers,

I don't know what your financial plans look like these days, but I can tell you, we're starting to run out of space under our mattress. Not that there's a whole bunch of cash under there. Actually, it's a whole lot of IOU's with smiley faces I've drawn to myself. Sometimes I add hair and little corn cob pipes so they look like snowmen.

Fortunately, Husband and I aren't entirely broke. You may remember a while back when we met with financial planners for the first time. We realized we had five spare dollars and had heard about something called the stock market. They bandied about words like "retirement" and "bonds". I just kept screaming, "Put it all on black. Fast and loose. Fast and loose."

Progress was slow.

As it'd been sometime since I'd been truly confused about money or shiny folders with impressive logos on them, I decided to check in with the finance people and come to grips with what was going on. Unfortunately, our original financial advisers decided to move on. This left me explaining our expenses to complete strangers.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Merry Christmas, Stevie Nicks and a Giveaway

Morning Readers,

The Christmas I turned fourteen was probably my roughest, to date. There's no worst first world problem than not getting what you want on Jesus' birthday. Am I right or am I right? Children in the improvrished countries knew they wanted to eat. I knew I hated everything I got for Christmas and would show I had absolute disregard for anyone else's problems by curling up on the floor, under a blanket, and crying for the entire day.

That's what happens when you give a friend Stevie Nick's Greatest Hits, when she's fourteen.
That's what happens when the same girl gets a boat-neck sweater she didn't want.
That's what happens when socks are in abundance, but the girl was dumb enough to answer the question, "What do you want for Christmas, Paige?" with ...

..."Oh, nothing. Just World Peace."

Idiot.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Uninvited Guest Part III: Resurrection

Morning Readers,

Over the past few months, the Split-level has experienced its share of infestations: roaches, spiders, the time I was obsessed with Hall and Oats.

...it only took one incidence of me drawing a mustache on my face and singing "Sarah Smile", while careening around the front yard, barefoot, for everyone to agree it'd gone to far. And maybe, just maybe, I needed to go back to my fixation on Justin Bieber.

Who's single now, btw.

But that's a whole new blog post and a whole new set of what counts as "stalking laws" in the state of California.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The United States of Spandex

Superman ...championing America and spandex for as long as I can remember.
Morning Readers,

No matter what kind of mood you woke up in today, please know I heard your worries, and I'm here to allay your fears. Actually, I'm a little flattered you all were losing sleep over the state of my muffin top. But I'm here to tell you, as far as Kellerman politics were concerned, all my garments banded together in solidarity.

Last night, I was able to sneak out of the house and attend my first mother's group, a much-needed respite from the "I pooped myself"s and the "I pooped on my hand"s that've been trending around here lately. And it got me thinking. "Now that I have time to put together two, coherent thoughts, America needs to know what the political climate is like around the old Split-level these days.

....Also, this Gin and Tonic is delicious. I'm glad they didn't discontinue them while I was pregnant."

Saturday, November 3, 2012

On the Island of Misfit Pants

Evening Readers,

When I go out in public, I prefer to be awkward, not look it.  Trying to do both at the same time is way too much work, because I'm also extremely lazy. So, while I may accidentally look at you crosseyed when we first meet, please know that I've also taken the time to make sure my outfit, at least, matches and I've popped my collar to compliment my flats.

Whoa ....slow down, Paige. That's a lot of clothing Jargon.

Sorry, sometimes I stumble onto J. Crew's website and want to start using vocabulary like "Ruching" and "You want this because it's darted. Daaaarted."

Oh, and I love, "Pleat".

Pleat.

Anywho.