MOMMYHOOD

Worst kept secret

I never understood why my mother felt the need to have a “secret password” when I was growing up.

I don’t know if it’s something she picked up from a PTA meeting or the friendly school cop–best practices from McGruff the Crime Dog? Oh, 1980’s…

Aside–I don’t think anyone really liked our elementary school cop and everyone liked our high school cop, who ironically, I think, had married our elementary school cop. I remember the high school cop, a lady (and also named Officer Guenther) was always making sure we minded our mothers, saying to us, and only when our mothers were around, “yeah, you better watch it because she brought you into this world and she can take you out of this world.” In jest???

So I don’t know WHY Pat insisted on a secret password. Like, if someone else was coming to pick me up at soccer practice, and even if it was already arranged beforehand, my mom would tell them the secret password because I wasn’t supposed to go home with anyone who didn’t use the secret password.

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Now that I am a grown woman, I think it’s safe to let the cat out of the bag: our secret password was BUTTERFLY. I think we already have OJ’s now not-so-secret password.

And here’s the NEWS ROUND UP:

I went to Denver for the weekend to celebrate STT’s 40th birthday. We had a great time just being us–not a mother or a wife but just M and STT, and what a nice change of pace. We all need a weekend away.

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We were invited for dinner down the street and so I was eager at the chance to make Nigella Lawson’s coffee panna cotta from this past Masterchef Australia series and then so eager to BLOG ABOUT IT! I had to convert the metric measurements and double the recipe which basically equalled disaster. I think the real trouble was in the conversion from “gelatin sheets” to powder gelatin because they just never firmed up. Epic. Total. Disaster. We will see if we ever get invited back again…

Thank God our hosts had ice cream and pint-sized cones (available at your local HEB) for pint-sized kids.

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OJ finished his little summer camp and will start school two days a week after Labor Day. So grown up! What a punk.

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And otherwise, little man has had a hacking cough all week (maybe should not have taken him to music class? to be fair I took him to the pediatrician the next day and she said he is fine, but some children’s zyrtec may help him sleep) and we are living out the quiet but sweaty days of August before T and I leave for Oregon and make our first trip away together without the baby, since the baby. Watch out wine country, I am thirsty

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