I don’t want to complain.

Just know there’s things I want to complain about, but I won’t.

I will tell you that Cody GOT! A! JOB! for the summer. And I think that means I can now tell you that I secretly hid and complained about this whole process last fall. I will also tell you that he made it onto the Executive Board for Law Review. He explained his duties to me but all I heard was “I’m going to be very busy next year blah blah.”

I have wonderful friends both in the computer and down the street. The medication I’ve started taking seems to be doing it’s job (this is a first for me). I’m not out of the dark yet, but I’m definitely moving forward.

It may even be sunny today for the first time in weeks.

BRING ON THE VITAMIN D.

The last time I did this it really lifted my wintry spirits.

I want to hear the best thing that happened to you over the last week. Anything at all. Brag it up. Even if it was only a perfect piece of toast, I want to know about it.

Thanks.

I’d like to introduce you to my bed.

Upon further inspection you’ll notice the pillow to spouse ratio is a little off.

1. Hidden body pillow.

2. Accent pillows.

3. My woobie pillow.
4. My woobie blanket.

5. Cody’s regular pillow

6. Cody’s body pillow

7. My regular pillow.

Unfortunately our *ahem* problem has been passed down a generation.

Allow me to explain.

1. Collection of Princesses and Fairy Godmothers.

2. Princess pillow.

3. Quilt made by me (more or less)

3a. Green blanket.

3b. Red blanket.

3c. Pink blanket.

4. The all important purple woobie. (also made by me.)

Needless to say the moosh never sleeps in our bed because of our, well, stuff.

Cody and I can barely stay in the same bed.

It starts out something like this:

Civil enough right? And when we get all hot and I get sick of chest hair tickling my nose we split into something like this:

Around the middle of the night we’ve adjusted slightly.

We find each other again in the early hours. Though by now we’re a lot more potent with sleep smell:

By morning it’s every man for himself.

Except Saturday and Sunday mornings when the moosh and her woobies take over join us.

Needless to say we don’t sleep in much on the weekends.

Whew. Therapeutic guest post over at Angella’s by yours truly.

Hello, how are you? I’d like you to meet Frank (edited for content):

*****

Frank | poop@lickme.com | IP: 99.239.34.15

Your kid should be taken away from you. NO sympathy at all should be given. You tried to kill your unborn child. Eat a d^$%, you f&*%.

*****

Thanks for the sunshine kisses Frank. Right back at you darlin’.

To the rest of you who sent me real sunshine kisses, thank you. I am humbled and grateful for your kind words, thoughts and prayers. I have been blessed with some wonderful people in my life. First and foremost is my husband. I love him so much it hurts sometimes. Next is my sweet little kid. She is the epitome of sunshine kisses.

“Hello? Miss Mother? I am Cinderella. And you? You are naked.” She said this to me as I got out of the shower the other morning. And just the other night she told her dad “When I grow up I want to be a human, just like you.”

During my internet absence I got to hang out with Nell and Jennifer. (Yes, that Nell and that Jennifer.) We lunched, and then tried not to freeze in the blissfully miserable Indiana winter.

I also need to send a big fuzzy kiss out to my friend Polka Dots and her little Cheeto headed children. They have taken amazingly good care of the moosh and me during my little struggle the last two weeks.

Cute right?

Well it just so happens I saw a new side of Polka Dots last night.

Polka Dots + Wii = Unending entertainment

The snow forbid Polka Dots and her brood from coming over today. (Can I just tell you how much I love that the entire city basically shuts down for a couple inches of snow? LOVE IT.) So she sent her husband in her place since we’re in his beat.

Yep, Polka Dots is married to a cop and Officer Polka Dots is the moosh’s new boyfriend.

He let her push his buttons and turn on his lights.

the moosh is smitten kitten with Officer Polka Dots.

And honestly, who doesn’t love a man in uniform that lets you push his buttons and carries handcuffs?

It’s good to be back.

xoxo

Ah sweet succulent depression, how I loathe thee. How I wish you would just curl up and die while ceasing to exist in all corners of my life. I’ve had enough of you. You exhaust me.

I was hoping it was anything but you. I’ve been finding excuses for weeks. The weather, me being sick, Cody being gone, the stubbornness of my resident three year old, my period. But all those things came and went and I was still left feeling like a sack of beaten potatoes.

So I got help. It wasn’t easy getting help with the fear that they would keep me in the back of my mind. I came awfully close to what could only be called a panic attack when I saw the locked door next to the Psychiatric Intervention Unit. They promised they wouldn’t keep me, and I agreed to a new medication and regular counseling.

I know too many people who think depression is a cop out, a choice, an excuse or a justification for laziness. I know because I used to be one of those people.

For me, depression is a real, live, all consuming monster that would gladly eat me alive if I let it. But I refuse to let it. I am going to kick depression’s black inky rear. I am not going to let it define me, I am not going to let it win. I have too many things to fight for, to live for.

So if you’ll please excuse me, I’m going to be putting myself back together for a bit. Thankfully Craig over at Puntabulous has a tasty bit of the me I’m trying to put back together.

So please, don’t dwell here, I’ll be fine, really. Head on over to Puntabulous and show that little Star Wars geek that I am the true queen of all things baked and cream filled.

Because here at moosh in indy, I’m all about focusing on the good, and taking down any brownie loving fruits in my way.

Over at Linoleum Dynamite you’ll find a chocolate cake recipe. It will take you all of seven minutes to make and will only use one bowl. Never made a cake from scratch? It’s not scary, promise. And it’s worth it, promise. Your Valentine would think the world of you, promise.

There is a science to baking. A science that I am trying to learn. I would like to pass on what I’ve learned in my limited yet growing knowledge on to you. I’ll start with cake basics. Because that’s what I made today. Duh. (You too can learn all this stuff. Try this book, this one, this one, and don’t forget about this guy.)

When making a cake you want all of your ingredients at room temperature. This is why many cake recipes will call for warm or hot water to be added. This is an easy way to cheat is if you don’t have time to bring all of your ingredients to room temperature. Why do this? Well, because when the ingredients are already at room temperature the the batter won’t have to warm up before it can start baking, leaving you with a more moist, tender cake. (Think of room temperature ingredients as cake foreplay, once it gets into the heat of things it can go straight to doing its job.)

Secondly, lining your cake pans is paramount. Look! I made a video to show you how! Spray your pan, measure your parchment and spray again. You should never have another stuck cake again. (Parchment is different than wax paper, it is coated with silicone and can withstand higher temperatures, nothing sticks to it and it won’t leave behind any strange flavors.)

Third. Oven thermometer. My oven can be off anywhere from 25 to 50 degrees depending on the weather. Don’t trust what you set it at. Trust an oven thermometer. Even if you have a digital convection oven, use an oven thermometer. Trust me.

Fourth. DON’T OPEN THE FREAKING DOOR. Every time you open the oven door you lose 25 to 50 degrees of heat. Which means the oven has to recover that heat before it can continue baking as usual. Recovery=longer baking time, drier baked goods and *gasp* fallen baked goods. KEEP THE DOOR SHUT. If you must check in on your food, get a baking stone and keep it in your oven at all times. It will retain heat and help your oven recover faster from all of your nosiness.

Fifth. Let your cake cool all the way before you frost it. Unless you like mushy piles of cake be patient. Good frosting is made mostly from what? Butter. And butter melts when put on something warm. Melted butter is slippery. Get my point?

The last thing I can think of is flour. Maybe you’ve seen cake flour. Cake flour has a lower protein content than all purpose flour and all purpose flour has a lower protein content than bread flour. Cake flour will give you a very light, tender cake. All purpose flour will give you a sturdier, denser cake.

Cake is the result of a bunch of tiny air bubbles formed by steam trapped inside the protein of the flour. How tough those air bubbles are depends on how much protein is in your flour. Let’s say cake flour is like a bubble blown with bubble gum. Soft and easy to break. (Soft, tender cake) All purpose flour will give you bubbles that more resemble a latex balloon, thin, but harder to pop. Bread flour ends up being more like a rubber ball. Much harder to pop and therefore chewier and denser (think french bread).

If that analogy doesn’t make sense to you I’m sad, because it totally makes sense to me.

So there’s my cake knowledge. Go forth and prosper. And check out the recipe at Linoleum Dynamite. I drew a happy face on the finished product.

If you give the moosh to daddy he will likely take her out for ice cream.

(But who cares? You’re sick and want to take a nap.)

If the moosh sees ice cream she will likely want chocolate.

Dark chocolate.

If the moosh gets dark chocolate ice cream she will want to eat it on the way home.

Only dad didn’t realize the moosh was wiped.

And that she’d fall asleep in her dark chocolate ice cream.

Dad didn’t get a picture of the moosh asleep in her dark chocolate ice cream.

But we got a picture of her awake in it.

I buy and hoard the nice tissues just for days like this.

You know, the thick ones with lotion squished into them?

I have been “under the weather” since I left Utah (January 7th). But only recently is my immune system throwing its arms in the air and surrendering to whatever virus has taken over my body.

Now could someone please tell me what purpose sinuses serve outside getting infections? I’m fine really, NyQuil cocktails for all!

*ahem*

In light of a recent string of not nice things said to me (I’m looking at you, troll.) I want to know the best thing that happened to you last week. The funniest thing your kid said, the nine hours of uninterrupted sleep you got, the fact that YOUR KID IS TOTALLY POTTY TRAINED (hi, that one is from me). Did someone give you a wonderful compliment? Did you have a good hair day?

I want to know the good, the better and the best. Brag it up, I want to revel in your accomplishments, your victories and your blessings.

There’s enough mean and hurt in this world and I choose not to contribute to it.

xoxo, Casey