23 Oct 2010

Shout Out to the Dads

No Comments Uncategorized

I just want to say that several men, fathers to be exact, have approached me to tell me how much they love the blog. Namely, the “Spinning” post. It’s not like strangers are coming up to me, I want to be clear. I haven’t reached the level of fame (HA!) where anyone says, “Oh my God! Lisa Arch! Your blog changes lives!” But people I know and respect have mentioned to me that they have been affected or moved by some of my posts. That means the world to me.

I realized that I use the word “Mom” a lot. Let’s face it, I’m a Mom. I’m writing about being a Mom, and I’m assuming the majority of my readers are Moms. However, there are incredible Dads reading this too. And great Dads make the world a much better place. If you’ve been a regular reader, you know how much my amazing Daddy meant to me, and means to me still. I just wanted to say that I appreciate a good Dad. And I’m grateful to any of them who are reading my words, and gleaning any meaning from them.  I also happen to live with one of the World’s greatest Dads, so I know of what I speak.

SO!  Any of you men who happen to read this blog and think, “Hey! What about me?” Just know you are included in my thoughts. All of them. Consider “Mom” to mostly mean “Mom or Dad”, unless I’m talking about pregnancy or boobs or ova or uteri. Is it uteri? You get the point. 🙂

20 Oct 2010

Mother. In. Law.

5 Comments Cooking/Baking, Family

Oh shit. My mother-in-law reads this blog. All the personal stuff, all the complaining, all the stories about her beloved grandson, all the evil things I plan to share about her son, she reads. She told me. She was very complimentary and said she enjoyed my writing but that’s beside the point. She reads this blog.

I’ll tell you why it makes me a bit jumpy. It’s the recipes. Yup. Not the personal crap or the other crap, or the other crap. It’s the recipes. Know why? Because when I first met my mother-in-law I didn’t know how to do a gosh darn thing in the kitchen. (Well, I knew how to do SOME things, but I can’t print them here because my mother-in-law reads this blog. Let’s just say I got an engagement ring out of it.) One time on a trip to Oregon, when Russ and I were still dating, I asked if I could help with dinner and she gave me the toddler-sized job of cutting celery. A test, perhaps. I failed. I cut the celery slowly and poorly, one stalk at a time. My mother-in-law stepped over to me, having just plucked and cleaned three chickens in the time I cut half a stalk and said, “You know Lisa, you can cut them three at a time, like this.” She then took the knife and showed me. And we laughed. We laughed a lot. My laugh was saying, “Oh my god. I feel like such an inept asshole. This woman thinks I’m a bimbo.” Her laugh was saying, “Oh my god. My poor son is going to starve to death in that apartment in California. This girl is a bimbo.”

Since then a lot has changed. Now when we visit the in-laws, she trusts me to make three quarters of a meal, if not a whole meal all by myself sometimes! She’ll even ask me cooking advice every once in a while, which I personally think is just to make up for how I still feel about the celery incident. She seems to feel less like her son is being held prisoner and only being fed stale bread and cloudy water through a slot in his metal door. And I think she likes the way her grandson is fattening up.

She and my step-father-in-law are coming to visit for a few days at the end of the month. They usually like to go out to dinner when they’re here, (which I find suspicious), but this time I think I’ll surprise them with a gourmet meal of celery soup, celery stew, and roasted celery. I think she’ll laugh. And her laugh will say, “This girl is a bimbo. But I like her.”

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