Sweetie-boy

Today it's all Matthew. The Matthew Channel. All Matthew, all the time, 24/7.

And you're saying, "It's about time she talked about someone other than herself." Well . . . yeah, SO? Quit picking on me. I'm old and feeble. I'm fending off Alzheimer's by stimulating my brain with . . . myself.

Huh.

Back to the subject at hand. Matthew is our firstborn. Our sweetie-boy. Our buddy. Our firstborn-sweetieboy-buddy.

We've called him "Buddy" since he was a little guy. That's his nickname. We usually call him Matthew but whenever we yell, "Hey Buddy!" he answers.

He's a busy guy. And tall. And grownup. Much too cool to be called sweetie-boy. So I try to do it as much as possible - especially in front of his fourth-grade friends. Let's face it, my kids were born to be embarrassed by me. Duane shouldn't be the only one suffering.

Because Matthew's so busy, I find myself in the puzzling position of being an administrative assistant to a fourth-grader - his social secretary. We have many things to schedule, people. He has places to go, people to see, coaches to impress. My life is his.

Which is why I drink wine but that's another subject for another post.

For the better part of September, we - the entire family - had a ball helping Matthew with his first school project of the year - The Insect Project. He was to collect 20 different bugs then identify and display them creatively.

Fortunately, we live by a couple of ponds and could easily go there to find a variety of crawling, flying things. I have to admit - I like bugs and this was fun. I quickly reverted back to when I was a 4-H-er and took entomology as a project. My sister and I were in entomology together. We collected bugs to display in large, glass-fronted boxes at the Tri-Rivers Fair in Salina. In our neighborhood we were known as the "Butterfly Killers". Harsh, no?

In 4-H there were strict guidelines about displaying insects. You didn't just slap 'em on a piece of paper and call it good - you had to "set" them. That meant you had to make the dead bugs look like they were alive - legs and wings stretched out in position and held in place with pins. We had to do this immediately after they died, before they got stiff and dried out. I LOVED setting bugs and making them look perfect. I'm sure this is where my OCD started.

Anyway, Matthew didn't have to set his bugs but I did it anyway. We worked on it together and I showed him how I did it as a girl.

Look at our Boy Scout! Last year Matthew's third-grade teacher commented that OUR SON was a role model in his class and had emerged as one of the class leaders. Is that not an awesome thing to hear? But let's face it, with me as his mom, how can his role-modelishness be fostered? He needs a fighting chance for those character traits and tendencies toward leadership to grow. Enter, the boy scouts and take a good look at our Webelo scout. Isn't it an exciting thing to get a vision for your child? He's going to be a terrific young man some day!

Which brings us to flag football.

Matthew's carrying the ball, here, after catching a pass. As a completely objective mother and highly experienced football-watcher I can say this with absolute confidence - Matthew has terrific hands. Soft hands. He can snag a football from any position. It's like his hands are a magnet for the football.

Props to my sweet husband for encouraging, teaching and throwing 7,496,152 passes this summer.

Someday, I predict that my super-cool son will be a 6'7" receiver. If it doesn't interfere with basketball, anyway. And if he can stop gagging on his mouth piece.

And that's it for the Matthew hour!

Tune in next time for the Daniel show.

You want me?

One of the first things I did, within weeks of starting this blog, was satisfy my curiosity about it's popularity. I mean, I was all set to be immediately famous. Oprah was going to call me, people! Thousands would flock to karenpie and most probably crash my server. OK, I don't understand what "crash my server" means but it sounds techy and cool. When you blog you're supposed to know stuff like that.

Anyhoo . . .

I wanted to know if I was out there. I wanted to know if people other than Duane and my parents were reading my drivel. Uh, Honey? Mom and Dad? You think I'm cool, right? Please? Maybe a little cool? Never mind.

I started doing research to see if there was anything out there that would track visitors to this blog. I happened upon a site called Statcounter. This company offered to keep track of karenpie's visitors - how many people log on each day, how much time they spend here and where they're from. All I had to do was install some free software on my blog and - voila! - traffic would be updated every day. I know, it's kind of big-brotherish but don't worry - I don't get anything personal about you guys, just the city/state or country in which you live.

Here's the fun part. Statcounter does something interesting called a "keyword analysis". It's a breakdown of how people find karenpie. For instance, if you google "karenpie blog" or "karenpie" I'd be on one of the pages to which Google would direct you.

According to the stats, about 95% of the visitors here actually ask for "karenpie". Like, on purpose. You know who you are - please don't be embarrassed! There will be a support group forming shortly, where your affinity for weirdness will be addressed. Just remember, admitting your problem is the first step toward recovery!

"Hi. My name is Harriet and I like to read pointless, narcissistic blogs."

"Hi Harriet!"

Sometimes people search a subject to learn something. They're learners. They type a question in their browser, hoping to be enlightened. Something like this from Tallahassee, FL., "what is the stringy things that comes off banyan trees". Uh-oh. Google sent you here and you got this. All Tallahassee wanted was an answer to the question and got me being Tarzan.

No, now that you ask, I'm certainly NOT humiliated. Not in the least.

I've gotten a lot of people searching for rhubarb recipes and they get the rhubarb butter post I wrote last June. Now that's legit. That was meaningful. Lives were changed because of the rhubarb butter! I was an educator.

There are Costco customers who want to return things and are directed here. Or the vacationer, trying to pack for a cruise to Alaska, is given this choice. I'm really so very, very sorry. Did I answer your questions correctly? Did I help?

Some people, probably legitimate athletes with important questions, googled Portland to Coast and got me. Well, finally. Something I am an expert in - an athletic endeavor. Glad I could be of assistance.

Then there were the people who were evidently in the throes of dealing with sick cats. Frightened, desperate people who trusted the internet to deliver some comfort and knowledge. They searched these two phrases; "explosive diarrhea in cats" and "my cat is dripping poo after the litterbox". Uh, you got this. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. I'll pay for your therapy and I'll do my best to delete that mental picture from my brain.

Occasionally people get karenpie when they really don't want me. I mean they REALLY DON'T WANT ME. It's slightly disturbing. Somebody in Tulsa searched "cute young hot girl". They got me. I'm trying to decide if that's a compliment or not.

Then there was the person in the UK who wanted to find "huge waddling pregnant women videos". Um . . . huh? Should I be offended? The only video on this site is of me wiping out on a Banyan tree vine. Do I look pregnant in that video? Don't answer that.

Who needs therapy now? Huh? Who needs it now? If you need me I'll be in my closet in the fetal position, sucking my thumb.

Limitations

Did you know not carrying your camera around can make you a boring blogger?

Seriously.

I haven't been taking pictures, therefore I have nothing to say (man, I need to get a life). I guess I never realized I was so visual. I have a short attention span and need big colorful pictures with captions. It's why Dr. Seuss and I get along so well.

Anyway, it's not like I haven't been doing anything - hey, I can be busy and productive - I just can't prove it with photo documentation.

Yesterday I decided to change all that. My friend Lisa came over and we were productive. Look -

We made cake pops!

Bakerella's cake pops. If you've never seen Bakerella's blog you're missing out on some real treats, not to mention stunning pictures. (Remember, I'm visual).

Would you like to see how these culinary masterpieces are created?

Come along! Come along! I will show them to you! Your mother will not mind at all if I do!

Dr. Seuss and cake pops. It's your lucky day. Don't be afraid. There will be lots of pictures.

Start with a cake mix, baked in a 9x13 pan. I used Betty Crocker Triple Chocolate Fudge.

Let it cool (mine cooled overnight) then crumble the cake up in a big bowl. You don't have to get it perfectly crumbled - there are some big chunks in there too.

Make or buy 2 cups of cream cheese frosting. I detest store-bought frosting so I made my own.

With the mixer on low, add the cake crumbles to the frosting and mix it all together.

This is what it looks like all mixed up. It's the consistency of cookie dough. You're going to make a bunch of dough balls out of this. By the way, you should, er, taste it to make sure it's good. Just sayin'.

I used a 1 1/2-inch scoop to make the dough balls then Lisa and I rolled them to make them round.

I refrigerated these for awhile - it makes them easier to coat in the orange stuff.

Speaking of orange stuff - have you ever wanted an excuse to buy every single color of candy melts and have them all lined up in the order of the rainbow in your pantry?

Um . . . heh, heh . . . me either. I mean WHO would want to go and do that? So impractical.

Pour about half the bag into a measuring cup and melt it in the microwave - there are handy directions for this on the package. Which I ignored. Then was irritated when the stuff wasn't melting correctly. Then I had to do a bunch of extra steps to fix it.

Directions - they're a good thing! Especially if you read them.

Take some lollipop sticks and dunk the tips in the perfectly melted orange stuff. Stab your innocent dough balls and insert the sticks as far as they'll go without coming out the other end. Pretend I took a picture of that part of the process.

Then, dunk your dough-balls-on-a-stick in the melted orange stuff. Quickly sprinkle on any colorful sprinkles. Put the sticks in a piece of styrofoam until they dry. They won't take long to set up.

There! Aren't they pretty? Aren't you proud of yourself for being so productive? Now, go make some - it's a pretty fun project. Your kids will love you if you bring these to their classroom parties. Do it.

Do it NOW.