Babs Turns 40

So sometime on or around August 26 a milestone occurred.  I turned 40.  Yes, yes I know I don’t look a day over 36, but it’s true.  I am 40 years old.

Ugh.  I’m not at all where I thought I was going to be at 40.  And this is really and truly probably my midlife, but whatevs.  It could totally be worse.  I am (mostly) healthy.  I have an amazing child.  I have awesome friends and family.  My life is pretty cool.  So there.

On the morning of my 40th birthday I stepped off the plane.  I landed in Rome!

That’s right, blogland, to celebrate the occasion I went to Italy with some friends.  We had a fabulous time.

Rome

We visited Rome, Florence and Venice.  We saw sights, ate pasta, drank wine and walked until I felt I had been clubbed at the ankles.

Florence

The highlight of my trip was the day tour I did to the wineries in the Chianti region.  It was absolutely gorgeous, just like in the movies.  And to taste wines right from the vineyard was truly a dream.

Venice

For my 30th birthday I did Vegas.  Italy for my 40th.  I can’t even imagine where I’ll go for my 50th!

Do you travel or do anything special on milestone birthdays?

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Hair Routine – Fall 2014

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I Got It

I had a day date with my mommy recently.  It was great.  We saw a movie, ate sushi and did a little shopping.

We stopped in to Old Navy so I could look at tops.  With the weather changing, I wanted to get a something to start the transition.  I tried on a couple of things and made my way to the register with my mommy in tow.  When we got to the register she stepped in and offered to pay.

I got it,” she told me.

I told her no that I was planning on paying for it.  She insisted.  She wanted to buy the tops for me.  Knowing better than to argue, I graciously accepted.

For whatever reason, I seem to have a problem letting my mommy do nice things like that for me.  Now, if it’s for Regan than I have no problem.  That’s because I NEED help with her.  Clothes and school and whatnot ain’t cheap.  So I welcome her assistance.  But I guess if I don’t feel I need something for myself then I feel guilty about accepting anything.

She has expressed her annoyance over these feelings on more than one occasion, so I’ve learned to just say thank you and move on.

The following week I was running errands with Regan.  We were going to buy her a special reward for achieving her bedwetting goal.  She picked out her purse and I started looking at shoes.  She had no interest in the shoes.  I made her sit down and try them on and she seemed bored.

Regan, don’t you want a new pair of shoes?”

No, mommy.  I don’t need any shoes!

First, let me say, that’s a lie.  This child is HARD on shoes and always needs new ones.  Second, in that moment, I totally understood how my mother must feel when she is shopping with me.  There I was trying to do something nice for my daughter and she turned me down.

I decided to put my pennies back in my pocket and skip the shoes.  The next time, however, I am going to insist.  I love doing nice things for her and making her happy and, dammit, she is going to accept it graciously.

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Delicious Disaster

Over the weekend I decided I wanted to make bbq ribs.  We eat a lot of chicken at home and I figured ribs would be just the dish to shake things up.  I found an easy and budget friendly recipe.

After my weekly trip to the market where I picked up enough food for several meals, I realized that I had bought beef ribs, not pork.  Ooookay.  Beef ribs it is.

The night before dinner I was so proud of myself.  I cut my onions, seasoned and portioned the ribs and put everything in the crockpot.  The next morning all I had to do was add the barbecue sauce and apple juice.

Except that I couldn’t find the brand new barbecue sauce that I am sure I bought over the weekend.  So the morning of dinner I was squeezing the dear life out of the two bottles I had in the fridge.  It didn’t look like nearly enough, but it would have to do.  I added the apple juice and the ratio was way off.  I’ve made country ribs in root beer before, so it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Fugg it.  I put the lid on, set the timer and was out the door.  As I drove Regan to school I told her we’d probably be having hot dogs for dinner.

When we got home I made bee-line for the crockpot.  The ribs were swimming in the hot apple juice concoction.  I grabbed a forked and fished out a little sliver of meat and…Oh.My.Damn.  It was delicious!

photo 3

Not barbecuey at all, but tasty just the same.

photo 1

I served it up with rice and green beans and we grubbed.  Regan had seconds.  So did I.

There was a good portion left which I promptly threw in the trash.  Uh, yeah.  I tossed it.  I can’t explain it, but I knew I didn’t want any more.  The thought of eating it again made me queasy.  But it was good the first go around.

 

Blogger’s Note: Sorry for the ultra-janky iPhone pics.  I’ll do better and start using my real camera.

 

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