Float like a butterfly, sting like a Pumpkin Spice Latte Cupcake.

I'm not an athlete. I played sports in high school, but only made JV once, and that was due to dwindling numbers on the softball diamond. I can run, but only when Super Bass is on. (Side thought: Can someone please create a Big Mouth Bass that sings 'Super Bass' when people walk by? Copyright.) I'm not weak; I'm not strong, either, but I'm not weak.

I'm not an athlete, but I'm athletic.

Or so I thought.

Enter: Title Boxing.

Highlights:

• Sign up with cute instructor, flirt a little till he gives me cute, pink workout bag. (I actually did this. Proud.)
• Buy required hand wraps. (Did this, too. Got them in bright green...because I'm a girl, but didn't want to be girly. It was about this time that I felt like a true poser; standing by my punching bag, with my bright green hand wraps and "stretching" because I got to class 15 minutes early out of pure excitement/anxiety.) 
• Hit some stuff. (Check. Felt good.)
• Look like Jennifer Garner in "Alias" while hitting said 'stuff'. (And by 'Jennifer Garner', I mean 'Gary Busey on 'Celebrity Fit Club''.)
• Audibly laughed when the instructor asked us to do an ab exercise involving a medicine ball and alternating legs and arms. I felt like an intoxicated octopus.
• Literally got sweat in my eyes. (See Gary Busey statement above.) It burned...more than my abs did after the octopus crunches.
• Wanted to tell cute instructor not to reference my boxing appearance in his toast at our wedding.
• Leave class full of endorphins. (This happened, too.)
• I never took an anatomy class, so imagine my surprise when I ached in areas I didn't even know housed muscles. Hm. The more you know.

I'll never be Million Dollar Baby, but I'm starting to really enjoy the classes. Maybe I'll take on Tanya Harding on one of those Celebrity Boxing shows...or David Blaine! (I'd really like to hit David Blaine.) 

All of this boxing and movin' and groovin' is so I can feed my other hobby, with a more guilt-free mindset: CUPCAKES! (segue)

Autumn is my favorite. It's a time for scarves and leaves and boots and football (MIZ!) and pumpkins and bonfires and...oh, so many things. And wouldn't you know it, God has sent autumn to us in the form of a cupcake...and it was good.

Pumpkin Spice Latte Cupcakes

Yield: about 2 dozen cupcakes

Ingredients:

For the cupcakes:

2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour

3 tbsp. espresso powder (or instant coffee)

2 tsp. baking soda

2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/8 tsp. grated nutmeg

1/8 tsp. ground cloves

1 tsp. salt

1 (15 oz.) can pumpkin puree

1 cup sugar

1 cup brown sugar

1 cup canola or vegetable oil

4 large eggs

½ cup coffee or espresso, for brushing

For the whipped cream:

2¼ cups heavy cream, chilled

¼ cup confectioners' sugar

For garnish:

Ground cinnamon

Caramel sauce

Directions:

To make the cupcakes, preheat the oven to 350°F.  Line cupcake pans with paper liners.  In a medium bowl, combine the flour, espresso powder, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and salt.  Stir together and set aside.  In the bowl of an electric mixer, blend together the pumpkin, granulated sugar, brown sugar and oil. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.  With the mixture on low speed, add the flour mixture in two additions, mixing just until incorporated.

Fill the cupcake liners about three-quarters full.  Bake until the cupcakes are golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 18-20 minutes.  Transfer the pans to a wire rack and let cool for 10 minutes, then remove the cupcakes from the pans.  While the cupcakes are still warm, brush them two or three times with the coffee or espresso, allowing the first coat to soak in before repeating.  Let cool completely.

To make the frosting, place the heavy cream in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment.  Whip on medium-low speed at first, gradually increasing to high speed.  Blend in the confectioners' sugar gradually.  Whip until stiff peaks form, being careful not to over-beat.  Use a pastry bag fitted with a decorative tip to frost the cooled cupcakes.  Sprinkle with ground cinnamon and drizzle with caramel sauce.  Store in an airtight container and refrigerate.

Isn't it beautiful?

Wake up in the morning feelin' like...

...a marketing coordinator. I love my job, I really do. I get to work with some solid people doing things I'm good at. But no matter the joys of employment, there is always that moment right after my alarm goes off and I consider giving the whole day a good ole college try...and not getting out of bed. During that 30 seconds of indecision I'll think many thoughts, the first of which being, "What day is it?" I've created this handy chart to help you determine the follow-up thought process:

• MONDAY
• This weekend was fun/exhausting/productive/lazy...no one would blame me for staying in bed.
• General mood: depends on the weather.
• TUESDAY
• It's only Tuesday? How/why?
• General mood: pep talk necessary to move at an above-glacial pace.
• WEDNESDAY
• HUMP DAY, but not till the day is over.
• General mood: optimistic...already thinking about the weekend.
• THURSDAY
• Today's like Friday's pregame. I can do this.
• General mood: sassy. Let's do this.
• FRIDAY
• Wow, the week really flew by.
• General mood: content.

After that initial calendartastic internal monologue, my feet hit the floor and there's no turning back.

Like I said, I like my job...it's waking up that's hard to do.

_________________________

As promised, it's time for another recipe share time! This weekend I made Buffalo Chicken Rolls, and whenever I make these, I make them in bulk because they are delish when you first make them, but are even better reheated or eaten cold the next day.

So here ya go...BUFFALO CHICKEN ROLLS!

The recipe makes 12. This is a good number, just keep in mind that there are only about 100 calories per roll, so eating 3-4 isn't gluttony, it's living.

Here's what you need from the store:

• 12 egg roll wrappers (Every single time I go to buy these, I forget where they are in the store. Check in the produce section. If they're not there, just ask someone...trust me.)
• 1 cup cooked and shredded chicken (6 ounces)
• 1/2-2/3 cups hot sauce (flavor to your desired level of hotitude)
• 1 cup crumbled blue cheese (I usually use more...and I snack on it while making them, so I always just plan ahead.)
• 1 cup broccoli slaw or cole slaw (dry)

Here's what you do!

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Lay egg roll wrappers on a clean work surface. (This takes up a lot of room, so clear off a few counters and prepare to take over your kitchen.)
2. In a small bowl, stir chicken and hot sauce until well coated, using more or less sauce depending on your spice preference. The meat should be moist with sauce. (The word 'moist' doesn't usually bother me, but for some reason it does in this scenario.)
3. Begin by placing one tablespoon of the broccoli slaw on the diagonal of the bottom right corner of the wrappers. Next, place 2 tablespoons of shredded spicy chicken evenly on top of the slaw. Spoon 1 tablespoon of the blue cheese crumbles over the chicken. (All of these measurements are subjective...just eyeball it and spread out your ingredients until they're all gone, just DO NOT OVERFILL THE WRAPS, because then they'll tear and you'll have made a whole mess of things.)
4. To fold: (OK, this is where the recipe turns a simple thing like folding an egg roll into freaking origami. Have you ever been to Chipotle? You know how they fold their burritos? Do that and to seal the deal, wet your finger in a small bowl of water and use that to seal the final corner to the rest of the roll. For you folding wizards out there, I'll include their lengthy instructions...) Fold the bottom right corner over the stuffing miter so that it covers it completely, with the tip of the corner now pointing to the center of the egg roll wrapper. Fold in the bottom left corner, followed by the right, so that you have now formed an envelope. Roll the wrap upward one time, leaving the top left corner open. Wet your index finger in a small bowl of water and press to moisten the top left corner. Now fold that down on top of the filled roll, sealing it like you would an envelope.
5. Repeat with remaining rolls.
6. Place the rolls on a greased cookie sheet. Spritz each roll evenly with nonstick cooking spray. Bake for 12-15 minutes, or until the rolls crisp and turn a light golden brown.

Here's their final product. Mine looked like this too, sans plate because I eat them standing up in the kitchen.

ENJOY!

A KC Girl in St. Louis.

So...this is Missouri, huh?

After living in Leawood, Kansas for 22 years and 10 months, I made the big move across the state line and have settled in a little city called "St. Louis". My great move eastward was initially prompted by a lacking social scene in Kansas City (somehow, a daily nannying gig and a 9pm bedtime didn't prove to be the glamorous life one strives for), but after an extremely lucky series of events, I was able to secure a big girl job in my new home city.

(I won't bore you with the details, but I am now the Marketing Coordinator for Sandler Training Stark & Associates...Google them. They're legit.)

One week in, and I'm already sold on St. Louis, but there are some adjustments that need to be made...by me, not the city. I mean, I'm not above taking some of these to a city council meeting, but whatever.

• First of all, I don't know how to handle this whole "traffic" thing. Back in KS, traffic existed, but was limited to roads under construction and Metcalf. Here, especially on my routes to and from work, traffic is a four letter word. Everyone takes the highway, and everyone works 8-5, meaning that everyone and I have a daily rendezvous betwixt our bumpers.
• It's "St. Louis Bread Company", not "Panera". Not a big deal, just different...but their Creamy Tomato Soup still gives me happy tummy, so we're cool.

OK, that wasn't a long list. I mostly just wanted to bitch about the traffic. To counterbalance those grievances, here are some reasons St. Louis is perfection.

• My home is a short bike ride away from both Grant's Farm and Grant's Trail. Grant's Farm is not unlike Deanna Rose Farmstead in Kansas...kinda like petting zoo meets real zoo. What separates it, however, is the tram ride...oh, and the free beer. Did I mention that it's owned and operated by Anheuser-Busch? Well it is, which means that after you take a lovely tram ride through the estate and walk around the farm attractions, you end up in what can only be described as a beer garden. Here, you get two complimentary samples of beer. Oh, and the whole thing is free, with the exception of parking. Rough life, right? Grant's Trail runs right alongside Grant's Farm, and is an eight mile bike trail. It's a nice stretch of path that offers a different view of St. Louis. I rode it today...and came back with jelly legs and lack of breath. Note to self: get back in biking shape.
• This isn't St. Louis specific, but my home is perfection. (I'm living with my good friend, Kathleen, who recently gained legit 'big girl' status with her real estate purchase.) While there is a ridiculous amount of room, there are some issues with it being an older house...case in point: my closet. It's not a small closet, quite spacious actually, but the doorway is about 1/3 of size of the closet, requiring me to crawl into it to get anything towards the back. Not ideal. Enter: Bob the Builder. No, not the animated fix-it guy...my dad! He helped me move in and in a day and a half, took my comically small doorway from this:

Closet is the door on the left.

To this:

Impressive...huh?

• My job is also phenomenal, but I mustn't dwell.
• Oh, and two words: happy hour.

All in all, this move has been great...and I love telling people who want to visit that they get to meet me in St. Louis!

(P.S. I have some killer recipes to post on here, but I didn't want this post to be Tolstoy long. Things to look forward to: Mozzarella Bites, Buffalo Chicken Rolls and Honey Mustard Pretzel Chicken. Yum!)

I Think I'll Go To Boston Cream Pie Cupcakes

There are three things I know to be true about Boston:

1. Augustana thinks they'll go there.
2. They make a mean pie.
3. I'm lucky enough to be headed there tomorrow!

Yes, the time has come for a Ponath family vacay, New England style. My whole wardrobe is nautical themed and I've accepted the fact that every meal will include clam chowder and/or some kind of historical significance. I've been brushing up on my Bostonian accent by watching every movie Ben Affleck/Matt Damon have ever been in (with the exception of 'Daredevil' and 'Stuck on You'...because I'm not sadistic)....oh, and this: (Please excuse the language. It seems Bostonians have a favorite word, and it's not 'wicked'.)

I think I'm all set.

But, wait...today is my dad's birthday! There must be some way to incorporate our eastward voyage with the aging of my father. Answer = Boston Cream Pie Cupcakes. BAM...did I just blow your mind?

(It also works nicely that Boston Cream Pie is my dad's cake of choice. DOUBLE BAM...I'm on a roll.)

I'm gonna go rogue and post a picture of the final product BEFORE I go into all the gory baking details, but only because I'm going on vacation and you're not.

Woo! And a single candle for the birthday boy. (After he saw the cupcakes and got a sad puppy dog face, I gave him a second one...it is his birthday, after all.)

OK, now here we go. The original recipe makes 18 cupcakes and, as I've previously mentioned (in Snickerdoodle Cupcakes and Magical Chupcakes), I refuse to make the full amount. I mean, what am I going to do with 18 Boston Cream Pie Cupcakes? Do you really think airport security is gonna let me on a plane with these wicked pastries? Nope. They'd "confiscate" them, and there is NO WAY some glorified security guard is gonna get in on this cupcake action.

Long story short: I've cut the recipe in half.

Here's what you need to get from the store:

Cupcakes

• 1 egg
• 1/4 cup butter, softened
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1 cup sifted before measured cake and pastry flour (Sifting is my new favorite thing.)
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 3/8 cup milk (If that fraction looks weird, it's because it is. The recipe calls for 3/4 cup milk...just half that, mmk?)

Pastry Cream

• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1/8 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 1 egg
• 3/4 cup whole or 2% milk (Honestly, I used the 1% milk I had in the fridge...worked fine.)
• 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Chocolate Ganache Icing (The fact that I made 'ganache' just tickles me. Doesn't that just sound fancy?)

• 1/4 cup chopped-into-bits semi-sweet chocolate or chips
• 1/8 cup whipping cream
• 1/8 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Here's what you do:

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Line 9 muffin cups with paper liners. Place eggs in small bowl and cover with hot tap water to temper. (Didn't know what 'temper' meant, so I Googled it....it's just warming eggs up without scrambling them. Knowledge.)
3. TO MAKE CUPCAKE: Beat butter with sugar until light and fluffy. (Not fluffy, cloudlike, more fluffy, fresh snow.)
4. Beat in egg, then vanilla.
5. Thoroughly mix sifted flour with baking powder and salt, then sift or rub through a sieve again. (Seriously, I love sifting. It's like making fresh snow out of flour.)
6. Alternatively, in 2 batches, stir first flour and then milk into butter mixture.
7. Divide batter among cups. (See Snickerdoodle Cupcakes or Magical Chupcakes on the best way to do this.)
8. Bake in oven for 15-16 minutes or until lightly golden. Cool on a rack in pan.
9. TO MAKE CREAM: Stir sugar with flour and salt.
10. Lightly whisk eggs in a large saucepan; stir in sugar mixture until thoroughly combined. Slowly stir in milk, making sure to incorporate mixture at edges of bottom. 
11. Place over medium heat. Stirring constantly, bring just to a boil. (Mine didn't visibly boil, so I sorta guessed...pretty much when it gets gooey.)
12. Remove from heat; stir in vanilla.
13. Place a piece of plastic wrap directly on surface of cream. Cool to lukewarm.
14. TO MAKE GANACHE: First of all, accept that you will be making ganache. Give yourself a pat on the back for even attempting this fancy sounding icing...funfetti is below you.
15. Melt chocolate in whipping cream over very low heat in a small saucepan. Stir and when almost smooth, remove from heat and stir in vanilla. Cool to room temperature.
16. YOU'RE ALMOST DONE! TIME TO ASSEMBLE: Remove paper liners from cooled cupcakes and line muffin cups again with new papers.
17. Cut tops off each cupcake about halfway down and place bottoms in the re-lined cups.
18. Top with cream, dividing equally; evenly smooth cream right to edges.
19. Replace tops, then ice.
20. Refrigerate until icing is set, about one hour.
21. To serve, first point out the made-from-scratch cream and ganache topping to your samplers. Pause for oohs and aahs...then remove paper from cupcakes.

There you go! You enjoy your cupcake version of Boston's finest baked good, and I'll enjoy Boston.

From Nanny Pants to Business Casual

Today was the day. The last day of my nannydom.

I started today knowing that this was the end of a chapter in my life, but I hadn't realize how integral a part.

Nine months ago, I started nannying for Wes. He was a 3-month-old blob who wouldn't take a bottle, would only sleep when he was held and made you work for a smile. Since then, he's grown into an adorable 1-year-old with quite the personality. He knows how to sign for the stuff he wants and can kick a soccer ball like a fiend. He growls and babbles, and is generous with kisses and hugs. He eats everything and nothing at the same time, but has an affinity for blueberries. He takes long naps and makes a 'vroom' noise when he pushes his car around. I have had a blast being his nanny, and I will miss seeing him grow up!

Six months ago, I began the journey of the Three. Cooper, Addie and Tori were fragile, little babies (well, Cooper not so 'little') and it wasn't a stretch to call what I did 'watching'. The last six months have seen a landslide of milestones, and I have loved every step forward. From getting a smile from Addie, to seeing Cooper hold his own bottle, to watching Tori crawl...it has been a humbling and exciting experience. 

I love the reaction I get when I tell people I nanny for triplets, mostly because they don't realize how ridiculously rewarding it is. They only see 3x the diapers, 3x the crying and 3x the formula. I look back, and I see 3x the laughs, 3x the accomplishments, and 3x the excitement. I can't wait to check back in and see how much bigger, smarter and awesome they've become.

As of August 15, I will be the Marketing Coordinator for Stark & Associates in St. Louis. I am genuinely thrilled for this opportunity, but I am also grateful for everything I've experienced this past year...it's made me a better, more patient, person.

You want work experience, enter the corporate world. You want life experience, be a nanny.

NKOTBSB And Magical Chupcakes

There's a home video of me from 1990 in which I am dancing around my living room in a New Kids On The Block t-shirt, complete with baseball sleeves. My hair is sticking every which way and I have the annoying aura of a two-year-old that thinks 9:00am is ideal for a dance party (something I never grew out of). I rock out to "You Got It (The Right Stuff)", completely unabashed by the presence of the video camera, and when the song fades into "Please Don't Go Girl" I merely slow down my dance moves. I don't change anything I'm doing, except for the speed...cause that's "slow" dancing, right?

The reason I share this little anecdote with you is because last night I had the privilege of attending the LEGENDARY collaborative concert that is NKOTBSB. (In case acronyms stump you, that stands for New Kids On The Block/Backstreet Boys.) Someone was sitting in a room one day and thought, "Hmm. These two groups each reinvented 'boy bands' for their generation, which resulted in Tiger Beat fueled stampedes of young girls, who didn't even have all their hormones yet, crooning along to love songs dripping in falsetto and crying, yes crying, through their unrequited love...hows about we send them around the country, 10-20 years later, and just see what happens?"

I'd like to shake that guy's hand.

This concert was phenomenal. There were harmonies and sweet, throwback dance moves. There were screaming 40-somethings and crying teens. There was a whole lot of crotch grabbing and some sensual panning shots mades by the cameramen that must have made them uncomfortable. And the biggest shocker of the night: Donnie Wahlberg's abs. Like buttah.

I can't wait to reminisce about the nostalgia coursing through my veins that night.

What an entrance. I'd like overhead lighting like this each and every time I enter a room.

NBD, just NKOTBSB.

Ya, Backstreet Boys whipped out the white suits for some "I Want It That Way".

From our seats, we could fully appreciate the phallic nature of their stage.

A sparkling finish to "Please Don't Go Girl".

Both groups came out for the encore and had the ultimate boy band battle. When BSB and NKOTB go head to head, everyone wins.

The only way this night could have been better would be if Jonathan Taylor Thomas had been my date, and I was wearing a shirt that said 'brat' in glitterati cursive.

--------------------------------------

From preteen crushes to early twenties cravings, let's dive into my latest baking endeavor: Oreo Cheesecake Cupcakes (aka 'Magical Chupcakes').

Now, I'm not a Martha Stewart fangirl. Lord knows I can't stand her voice and her financial advice is a little touch-and-go, but God bless her, she knows her way around a kitchen. This is TECHNICALLY her recipe, but I made some changes, so I have renamed them "Magical Chupcakes" (That's cheesecake + cupcake...chupcake. I gotta copyright that before Martha pounces on it.)

The original recipe makes 30, but unless you're having a party or live with Cookie Monster, what are you gonna do with 30 chupcakes? That's why I cut it in half. Logic.

Things to get at store:

• 21 Oreos, 15 left whole and 5 coarsely chopped 
• "coarsely chopped" also translates into "put them in a plastic bag and pound the crap out of them"
• Just get a whole pack...when have Oreos ever gone to waste?
• HERE'S WHERE I SWITCH THINGS UP! Get the mint Oreos. They're the ones with the green frosting in the middle. I've found that they add a little something extra, and they make it prettier in the end.
• 1 lb. cream cheese, room temperature (two 8oz. tubs, for the rest of you Journalism majors out there)
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
• 2 large eggs, room temperature, lightly beaten
• 1/2 cup sour cream
• pinch of salt (I didn't cut this direction in half...not sure what "half a pinch of salt" would look like, so just eyeball it.)

This is how we do it (sing along):

1. Preheat oven to 275 degrees. Line standard muffin tins with paper liners. Place 1 whole Oreo cookie in bottom of each lined muffin cup.
2. In the bowl of a stand mixer, fitted with the paddle attachment, (Seriously, Martha? Damn, prison made you LAZY! For us lowly serfs, this is, indeed, manageable with a hand mixer.) beat cream cheese on medium-high speed until smooth, scraping down sides of the bowl as needed. 
3. Gradually add the sugar, and beat until combined. 
4. Beat in the vanilla.
5. Drizzle in eggs, a little at a time, beating to combine and scraping down sides of bowl as needed. 
6. Add in sour cream and salt, beat to combine. 
7. Using a large spatula, fold in the chopped (pulverized) Oreos.
8. Divide batter evenly among the cookie-filled muffin cups, fill each cup almost to the top. (Again, as with the Snickerdoodle Cupcakes, I prefer to fill cupcakes with a  plastic bag. Get a large gallon bag and fold town about two inches of the top of the bag (this helps reduce mess). Use a rubber scraper to spoon the mixture into the bag, and fold up the top when it's full. Cut a small hole in the corner of the bag. Instant pastry bag...suck it, Martha.)
9. Bake, rotating muffin tins halfway through, until the filling is set, about 22-28 minutes. Transfer the muffin tins to a wire rack to cool completely. Refrigerate (in the muffin tins) at least 4 hours (or overnight). Remove from tins just before serving.

I didn't get a chance to take a picture of my finished creation, as I had to go chill with Donnie's abs (see above), but here's Martha's photoshopped version of a complete chupcake:

Pretty simple, and REALLY good. Plus, now you have 1/4 a bag of Oreos to enjoy. 

(You may now refer to your bulging midsection as a "chupcake" instead of a "muffin top". You're welcome.)

Zen and the Art of Baby Food

Formula is disgusting. It looks like sour milk and smells the same going down as it does coming up (which it does...often). It's even worse with the triplets because they have all kinds of thickeners to add and specific kinds of powder that, if possible, smell even worse than the usual stuff. I always told myself that life would improve monumentally when the formula was retired.

Note to future 'mom' self: things don't ever get easier as children get older, they just get...different.

Case in point: baby food.

To start things off, I have a confession. (When making confessions, I always wish I had a reality show confession room with a comfy couch and a camera that I could look into and say things like, "I'm not here to make friends.")
My confession is this: not all baby food is gross. I have a tendency to lick excess apples, pears and prunes (Ya, I like prunes...sorry my stomach is 80 years old) off of the lids. This action hurts no one, albeit makes me seem a little more ridiculous as a caregiver. I'll probably be one of those moms who must 'test' certain baked goods for poison before my children can enjoy them...and some of them will indeed have poison and I will sacrifice myself and eat the entire muffin/cupcake/donut to ensure the safety of my children.

Now, don't be fooled by the small selection of acceptable fruits...the rest are vile. I'm not a fan of squash in its usual, ridiculous-looking form, but when you mash it, smash it, puree it and shove it into a plastic cube, it loses any of the appeal it held previously (like, for butternut squash fries and...that's about it).

And opening the small bins of disgusting? I feel like Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark as I carefully peel back the vacuum packed plastic protection sheet. (Side note: EVERYTHING is vacuum packed...including the smell. Yummy.) The carrots, peas, green beans, etc. are just waiting in there to explode in your face, and there's no way to stop it. No matter how carefully you peel, no matter how quickly or slowly you do it, it always manages to go "PLEH" and get little droplets on your hands and face. But never the fruits, oh no...never something that you have no problem licking off your hand; it's always the whipped vegetables that even the dog won't touch.

After it's all opened, and in the bowl or on the spoon, there's still another obstacle course ahead of you: feeding. They should have had this be one of the events on that Nickelodeon game show, "GUTS". I have a theory that "16 and Pregnant" wouldn't exist if America's 12-year-olds were subjected to feeding an infant strained peas in lieu of the Aggro Crag. (Let's go to Mo!)
I think my wards know something I don't about skin care, because they have a new way of eating that involves shoving the food through their face instead of into their mouth, but their skin is flawless.
New night time regime: baby carrot face mask.

I keep telling myself that it will get easier once they're eating solid foods, or at least move past runny sweet potatoes for every meal, but then I remember that the next 'step' for them is the blended turkey dinner...I think I'll stick with what I know.

Snickerdoodle Cupcakes And Awkward Interactions

If I were walking down the street without a three-wide-stroller, I wouldn't get honked at by construction workers whom I spoke with the previous day. I wouldn't be told by strangers that they were proud of me or that I deserved applause. (I also wouldn't have calves of steel and a sweet sunglass tan.)

As witty and well-versed as I consider myself to be, I rarely find a suitable comeback to these inspirational sayings (or honks) before the speaker has gone on his or her merry way. I melt into Chandler Bing, a ball of jerky hand gestures and sounds that aren't found in nature. It bodes well for my character, and for the triplets general well-being, that I at least inform our friends of the road that I am the nanny, and not the mother.

It is only then that I get the wide eyes of understanding and the nod of acceptance: this strange woman is only responsible for part of these children's lives.

--------------------------------------------------

While my verbal skills might be on the decline, my cooking skills are still on par...or so say my newest conquest: Snickerdoodle Cupcakes.

I stumbled upon this Martha Stewart gem and, despite my lack of standing electric mixer and photoshopping abilities of the final product, I think mine turned out quite nicely. Here's the recipe (with my own personal touches.

First, the cupcakes. The original recipe yields 28 cupcakes...knowing this, I cut the recipe in half. I don't even need 14 cupcakes in my life, let alone 28. So the following recipe will get you just over a dozen cupcakes...to share with friends...not eat all by yourself. 

Here are the cupcake ingredients:

• 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cups cake flour, sifted
• 1/2 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 tablespoon ground cinnamon, plus 1/4 teaspoon for dusting
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature (The first thing I do when a recipe calls for butter is set it out on a plate. Even if it doesn't call for room temperature, it makes it easier to deal with.)
• 7/8 cups sugar, plus 2 tablespoons for dusting
• 2 large eggs, room temperature
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 5/8 cups milk

In order to be more like Martha Stewart, I measured out all my ingredients and put them in bowls. (Butter and egg out first, so they can get to room temperature.) Thought: I need to invest in a good apron. One that makes me look like I know what I'm doing.

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line standard muffin tins with paper liners. (These cupcakes look best in yellow liners. The bright color makes this more of a summer cupcake, instead of autumn, the season traditionally associated with snickerdoodles.)
2. Sift together both flours, baking powder, salt, and 1/2 tablespoon cinnamon. (Sifting makes me feel like I know what I'm doing. Everything is so soft and fluffy...)
3. With an electric mixer on medium-high speed, cream butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. (This is where the room temperature butter comes in handy.) 
4. Add egg, beating until it is incorporated, scraping down sides of bowl as needed. 
5. Beat in vanilla.
6. Reduce speed to low. Add flour mixture in three batches, alternating with two additions of milk, and beating until combined after each.
7. Take a minute to lick the beaters. This dough is phenomenal. (OK, this wasn't in Martha's recipe, but try to tell me she didn't lick the beaters. I mean it...I got full on the batter alone.)
8. Divide batter evenly among lined cups, filling each 3/4 full. (I've discovered the best way to do this is to put all the batter into a large ziploc bag and cut a small snip in the corner of the bag. This way, you can funnel in the correct amount, and it's not as messy.)
9. Bake, rotating tins halfway through, until a cake tester (not your finger, I've learned) in centers comes out clean, about 20 minutes.
10. Transfer tins to wire racks to cool completely before removing cupcakes.

The thing I love about cakes, cupped or otherwise, is the timing involved in everything. While the cake cools, you get to make the frosting. THIS frosting, had me feeling like a true pastry chef and, despite Martha's insistence on expensive appliances, can be done with what you have in your kitchen...or my parent's kitchen.

"Seven-Minute Frosting" (Doesn't take 7 minutes...don't be fooled. Allot at least 10-15 minutes, or up to 30 if you're completely inept.)

Frosting Ingredients (Again, I've halved the recipe from the original):

• 3/4 cups, plus 1 tablespoon, sugar
• 1/3 cup water
• 1 tablespoon light corn syrup
• 3 large egg whites, room temperature

And here are the directions. If you find yourself going, "huh?" over and over again, just take a step back and read it again. If I can do it, so can you. (Note: This might very well be really easy, and I am just intimidated by cooking sugar. Whatevs.) Martha likes to get fancy.

1. Combine 3/4 cups sugar with the water and corn syrup in a small saucepan; clip a candy thermometer to side of pan. (I didn't have a candy thermometer. I had a meat thermometer. You adjust.)
2. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until sugar dissolves. Continue boiling, without stirring, until syrup reaches 230 degrees.
3. Meanwhile (and this is while you aren't stirring the syrup), in the bowl of a standing electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment (Haha. Oh Martha. What you meant to say was "bowl" and later, "hand mixer". What a crazy woman.), whisk egg whites on medium-high speed until soft peaks form. (I don't know what she meant by 'soft peaks', but my eggs got all foamy.)
4. With mixer running, add remaining tablespoon of sugar, beating to combine.
5. As soon as sugar syrup reaches 230 degrees, remove from heat. With mixer on medium-low speed, pour syrup down side of bowl in a slow, steady stream. (This is where it gets tricky. When I look back on doing this, I picture myself juggling a pan of scalding sugar, a bowl and a mixer. It was actually easier than all that, but I still have the flashbacks.)
6. Raise speed to medium-high; whisk until mixture is completely cool (test by touching the bottom of the bowl) and stiff (but not dry) peaks form, about 7 minutes. (Standing at a counter chasing an electric mixer around a glass bowl for seven minutes...a standing mixer would have paid for itself by now.)

By the time the frosting's done, the cupcakes should be cool enough to frost. Martha suggests an Ateco No. 809 or Wilton No. 1A tip on a pastry bag (...really, Martha? You're speaking parseltongue about frosting tips? That's low. I'll use my patented ziploc bag with an itty-bitty snip in the corner.)

Here's her technique that I tried to copy: "Hold bag over cupcake with tip just above top, and squeeze to create a dome of frosting, then release pressure and pull to form a peak." Poetry, right?

Sift the remaining 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon and 1 tablespoon of sugar over the cupcakes. You can keep them at room temperature or serve them chilled to give them a slight shell.

Here are two pictures of the finished product. One of them is mine, and one of them is a photo-shopped rendering of a cupcake and Jennifer Aniston's body...or something ridiculous like that.

 

A beautiful day for a walk.

While my job boasts no health benefits, has an annual salary that won't even qualify me for a Macy's credit card and reduces my wardrobe to those items that can be wiped clean with a damp cloth, there are perks to being a nanny.

First of all, when the sky is blue and the sun is shining and there's a light breeze, I get paid to go walking around outside. While you cubicle drones (I have legitimate hopes to be one of you one day) are working on your spreadsheets (checking Facebook) and sitting in your business meetings (playing Words With Friends on your smart phone) and smelling the popcorn someone burned in the workroom 4 days ago (it was you), I get to slather on some SPF bajillion, pop a kid (or three) in a stroller and just walk.

Four out of five doctors agree that this is awesome.

Top five things that have happened on these walks:

1. While still chilly outside, Wes left the house with two socks on and returned with only one. All I can assume is that he kicked it off in a fit of joy. Why is this memorable? Have you ever seen a sad baby sock by the side of the road and had terrible images from 'Baby's Day Out' or war-torn Russia flash across your mind? Well I have, and I can finally breathe a sigh of relief in knowing that it wasn't a case of an overly ambitious toddler, just a ill-fitting sock.
2. The triplets always attract attention, but it still surprises me how people think they're due permission to gawk and make whatever comments manage to make the journey from their brain to their mouth. One time in particular, an older gentleman drove by slowly as we were walking down the street and stopped his car completely when he was just past us. He rolled down his window and said, "I had to make sure they were real and not dolls!" like he was brilliant for checking my cargo before making an assumption that I was just playing house. I was able to shrug my shoulders and make a noise that amounted to a combination of "well yeah" and "it happens" before he rolled up his window and drove on. Note to self: when off-duty, start pushing dolls around in a stroller.
3. The other day, a woman in a bike helmet trimming bushes by the side of the path said, "Good morning, Carol!" The stroller/child didn't pay an important roll in this interaction, except as a shield from this bicycling landscaper.
4. On another outing with the triplets, we came across an older Indian woman sitting on the wall that lines the walking path. When she saw me coming, she got down and peered in the stroller. After taking in the triplets, she looked to me and just said, "Can I give you a hug?" Taken aback, and never one to turn down a free hug, I took her up on her offer. After our impromptu hug, she looked at me and said, "You're a great mother." She asked the kids names, and I told her, and she said they look beautiful and healthy and then just hopped back on that wall and we continued our walk. Usually, I'll correct someone and tell them I'm not the mom, just the nanny, but strangers don't usually lead with a hug. (In hindsight, I probably shouldn't be hugging strangers.) Later, I relayed the compliments, and the hug, to the REAL mother, telling her she must be doing something right.
5. I have developed a wicked awesome shorts/sock tan. Like, my thighs don't even know it's summer.

The second point I'd like to make on my 'Perks of Being a Nanny' check list is that I never have to take work home with me...because that's kidnapping...and that's frowned upon.

The third point on my list is a little sentimental. Have you ever been around a toddler when they are belly laughing at their hand? Or giggling at a pinwheel? Or smiling when you come in the room? It's a good feeling.

Also, when someone at my job falls asleep on my shoulder, it's adorable. When someone at your job falls asleep on your shoulder, there's reason to be alarmed or concerned.

So, there you have it. At the end of the day, theses are the things I tell myself to keep from clutching my college degree and sobbing.

The Other Odyssey

There are two things in life that I will never under-appreciate: my birthday and a haircut.

A birthday is not just a day to celebrate your aging, oh no...it's a day that is meant to celebrate YOU. You get birthday cards from your grandparents with checks for $14, strangers wishing you a happy day and forgetting just as quickly, and at least one free meal (even if it's a hot dog your dad buys you from Costco because "it's just too good a deal not to"). I don't think I'll ever get sick of January 29*. (No, Oprah...not because of you. You either, Kansas.)

The other overlooked ritual I love is a haircut. I believe that guys are obligated to get one often enough (so the world doesn't look like the fourth Harry Potter movie) that they have lost the joy that comes with it. Ladies, you know what I mean. When you get to have your hair washed by someone with uneven bangs, who cut them that way to be 'original', but you secretly hope they understand that you're fine being 'mainstream' when it comes to the angles of your tresses.

And then they ask you what you want to do with your hair...and this is where it gets tricky. What you say in the next 1-3 minutes can alter your life for the next 3-6 months. Usually, I play it safe and say that I want a trim, some layers and maybe a dramatic side-bang. But this time, I was feeling the winds of time shift ever so slightly, in order to make room for a vital moment in a young woman's life: the grown-up haircut.

No, not the mom haircut. Not the senior citizen haircut where you get it 'set' every week and then never touch it again. Just a haircut that is short enough to say, "My days of long hair are behind me." (Note: Every woman has the right to take back that statement as their hair grows out and they feel the need to reenact the first 90 minutes of the incredible Disney movie, "Tangled".)

I told Cheyenne (whose bangs were quite even and hair was a color typically found on human beings) what I wanted, and she went at it. It's quite freeing to see your new style develop before your eyes, and have it be exactly what you want (all the while being complemented on the beautiful color of your hair and being told for the umpteenth time how most people would kill for red hair).

By the end of my hairy journey, Ulysses himself would have been satisfied with the progress made. I now have a haircut that SCREAMS "I'm not in college anymore".

You want a picture? I'd be happy to oblige.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, THIS is one of those posts where you ask yourself, "Why did I just read about her trip to Beauty Brands?" Because I tricked you. You're welcome.

*I reserve the right to alter this argument once I hit ages that begin with '3'.

Childminder...Babysitter...Nanny

I wear many hats as a college graduate-the beret of butchering Martha Stewart recipes, the baseball cap of pointless movie trivia, the fez of proper semicolon usage-but the most flattering has got to be the Revolutionary War bonnet of child care provider.

Sure, it's a rough job, but someone's got to do it, and who's more capable than a woman in her early twenties with a Bachelor of Journalism of her very own? Thanks to my ill-named BJ, I have the power to claim more experience than the tweens starting their very own Babysitter's Club, and therefore get to charge $1.50 more per hour for my wisdom.

(Sidenote: Why didn't the original BC (not that little sister crap) ever cash in on their tsunami of business knowledge? They could have franchises sweeping the nation by now. Note to past self: jump on this.)

As a nanny, I have two consistent 'clients'. There's the 11-month-old, Wes, who I've been with for almost nine months now, and the 9-month-old triplets, Addison, Victoria and Cooper, who I've been with for four months. It's been an adorable, boring, fun, exhausting, disgusting whirlwind of birth control that I would love to share with you.

Along with my tales from the nanny files, I'll also be sharing some of my successful cooking endeavors. My most recent accomplishment was Snickerdoodle Cupcakes, and booyah (is that still a thing?) they were good!

I'll also slip in some of my observations about life...just because I can. You won't know until you read it and you'll be like, "Crap. Why did I just acknowledge her inane thought processes?" Because I tricked you...that's why.

So come with me on this journey of mediocrity in the midwest, as I lay out the ten things to do with a journalism degree.