bump and fish

I am not particularly fond of fish dishes. Unless it is salmon covered in a delicious flavor-hiding creamed dill sauce I tend to shy away.

Mark and Connor decided that the Saturday before a birthday is now “birthday observed ”   This has been implemented to allow for an entire day of love and pampering in the unhappy event that your birthday falls on a workday or schoolday. However, if you are fortuitous enough that your actual birthdate falls on a Saturday? Well, then you just won yourself a birthday observed weekend. The entire thing.  Sweet.

Anyway, Saturday was birthday observed so I woke to a well swept house, candles burning delightful scents and breakfast. Oh, and the baby had a clean/dry butt. SOMEONE. HAD. CHANGED. A. DIAPER (and it wasn’t me)  Hold on a second. I had to pull myself up off of the floor from the shock of simply remembering that again.  In fact, if I have to throw out props to Mark and Connor, online and all, I have to also add that I didn’t change a diaper ALL. DAY. 

You are so jealous. ha.

For dinner Mark found a new recipe and I was a little concerned when I saw it was fish. Perch, to be exact. However, I have to tell you that it was the most amazing seafood dish I have ever ever consumed. It was soooooooooooooo good. And pretty too. Take a look.


There was quite the mess in the kitchen and once I was allowed in I got a bit dizzy from the needed cleanup. When I cook, I tend to wash dishes, swipe counters clean and scrub pots as I go. I hate being overwhelmed at the end when I am bloated and satiated and just want to go and flop on the couch.  We made quick work of the mess though….ugh…


Mark, bless his heart, scrubbed the pots up until they were shiny again and all was well in the Mooney household.

(and yes, it was VERY important to have a wooden block as part of the cooking process.Corrigan’s contribution to the meal, eh?)


Until someone decided that he needed to climb up Connor’s bunkbeds, using an unstable toy as a stepladder, subsequently knocking over Connor’s electric guitar so that as Corrigan fell back and hit his head on the floor, the neck of the falling guitar then caught the end of a really heavy FisherPrice houseboat toy sitting on the guitar amp, which then tumbled down onto the forehead of an already wounded (and quite livid) baby boy.  It was very “mousetrap” (remember that game?) in it’s ridiculousness.


As his brother flew into the room .0004 seconds ahead of me, I watched as Connor leapt across the mess of toys, swept the houseboat off of his face in one fell swoop, and lifted his screaming brother into his comforting arms. Connor had it under control in 3 seconds. That goose egg on his head though…good grief was THAT an angry looking thing for a few hours. 

(wow, that previous sentence was an exercise in past and present tense issues…sheeeeeesh)

We let Corrigan cry all that he needed while patting his back and forcing our own sympathetic tears back into our heads, dabbed the bump gently with Dit Da Jow ( http://www.itcca.it/peterlim/ditta.htm ) and gave him a bottle for comfort. He was fine in a short while (and the bruise nearly gone in less than a day…yay chinese medicine!) and I now have photographic proof of his first goose egg. Oy vey, it is only going to get worse from here, right?

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