When saving money on a store brand was not worth it

This post was in no way dramatized. These are real events, real thoughts, real action.

Some things that must be said:

1. I adore the CrockPot Lady's recipes - Rotisserie Style Chicken is one of my favorites.
2. I have the memory span of a goldfish.
3. I don't cook very often.

Ok, now that those are established, let's continue with the story...

The first time I made this chicken recipe, I bought a Purdue brand whole chicken. Skinning the chicken was gross and cringe-inducing, but I made it through (the CrockPot Lady recommends this step. It takes a while, but it's worth it).
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Fast forward to a week ago. While perusing the meat section in our grocery store, I saw whole chicken on sale and thought, "man, I could really go for some of that rotisserie style chicken again." It was store brand, but I thought that wouldn't matter. Oh man, was I ever wrong.

Now, on to last Friday. Peanut just went down for a nap and I had a cutting board, the chicken, and a sharp knife at the ready.

I open up the plastic and remove the little goodie bag of gizzards from the inside. I double-checked to make sure there was nothing else in there. I happened upon an appendage of some sort. I freed it from its enclosure and mentally screamed (the kid is sleeping, remember),
"EWWW! This chicken has a penis!"

I quickly surmised that this was, in fact, the neck (that'd be one hung chicken, I tell ya...)

Now, how do I go about removing the neck? With the Purdue chicken, this was removed for me and neatly placed in the gizzard bag. I've never encountered this problem before. Due to my hands being saturated in raw chicken grossness, I couldn't turn to my trusty intarwebz for instruction. So, I guessed and cut off what I thought was appropriate.

Back to skinning...

It was pretty routine at this point, though I found this chicken to have quite a bit more junk in the trunk fat than the Purdue chicken.

Once I was close to done, I decided to look the chicken over and be sure it was pretty clean. I glanced on the inside toward the bottom (which could have been the top at this point...who knows) and I noticed a section of darkness. Another gasp and internal screaming, "this chicken still has ORGANS attached? SERIOUSLY?!"* Again, the Purdue chicken had this removed.

I just wanted to be done. I wasn't sure how to get rid of said organs, so I completely cut that part out - spine and all. In my flurry of cutting, I nicked my finger with the knife (no surprise there). A minuscule cut, but it still hurt.

Now I really went into panic mode. I'm furiously trying to be done with this gawdforsaken chicken and now I have salmonella coursing through my veins via the cut on my finger!**

I scrubbed my hands no less than 3 times with antibacterial soap, threw on a temporary band-aid, and got to work on the seasoning. After throwing the bird into the Crock Pot, I cleaned up and hopped into a scalding hot shower (because at the time that made total sense). Though not before sending the following text message to ShankRabbit:

I went all Silence of the Lambs on the whole chicken. You can't unsee what I have seen. ((shudder)) Time for a hot shower...or cigarette...or both.

When all was said and done, I had 3 sections of chicken left - the breast/wings/remainder of back and two thigh/leg sections. It may have been in pieces, but the chicken still tasted just as good as the last time I made it.

Let's hope I remember all this the next time I get a craving for rotisserie chicken.
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* I did a little online searching and found out these still-attached organs were its kidneys. Ewwww.
** I'm a wee bit dramatic in situations like this. Can you tell?

House thoughts (not the TV show)

We will be closing on our first home in about 60 hours. We will be moving into said house in about 118 hours.*

.whoa.

* * * * *

ShankRabbit and I spent this past weekend packing, sorting, organizing, packing, laughing, packing. This state of "half-moving" that we are living in has made for one emotionally-fragile Peanut and mama. Throw in some serious teething and you've got a barrel of fun.

Not really.

Our daughter has made it known that in this time of boxed-up chaos, any teeny tiny change in her routine will send her into meltdown mode.
(see: Bedtime routine. ShankRabbit skipped over the short game of tag they play every night and went straight to story time. The world ended.)

* * * * *

I've had my issues with this house we are currently renting, (you can get an idea here) but I'm sure going to miss it. Every time I feel the least bit emotional about moving (this is the only home our daughter has ever known WAAAAHHHH...) I think of all the positives of the new place (um, hello FINISHED BASEMENT!).

So far, it's working.

* * * * *

Confession time: 95% of our bathroom items are packed up. This includes replacement cartridges for my razor (and the scary Cheapo Razors of Death. I'll tell you all about that another time). The one that is currently on my razor has seen better days. I'd probably get a closer shave with a spork.

Thank goodness it's winter. No one** has to be subjected to my hirsute chicken legs.

* * * * *

And with those pleasant thoughts, I bid you good night.

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* - please don't hold me to those numbers. My math is not the greatest.
** - aside from my poor husband.

Crazy is normal for me

Lots of stuff floating around in my head recently - some of those items, in no particular order:

1. A House of Our Own: we put an offer on a house. Offer was accepted. Loan application well on its way. Closing date set.
OhgawdIfeellikeI'mgoingtovomit

2. My cousin's send-off party is Saturday. He's going to join the ranks of the United States Marine Corps. Military service is common in our family, but hasn't come up in our generation. He's the first. My little cousin...well, not so little anymore. I don't think my brain can process this properly. He's old enough? Seriously?! It seems like just yesterday we were watching Barney together.
Againwiththevommyfeeling


Here he is with his sister in '96 or so. I'd show you a pic of him now, but he'd probably stop speaking to me if he knew I posted it on my blog. So, I'm using my favorite one of them as kids. Muhahahaha!

3. I had a very rare snowball of anxiety clobber me a couple weeks ago that I couldn't shake before bed (oddly, not related to either of the items mentioned above).

Lesstalkylessvommyplease

* * * * *

I have this weird thing going on with a few of my toes. After ruling out poor shoe choice and bug bites, I turned to my trusty intarwebz to see what this could be. It left me with more questions than answers. ShankRabbit is convinced I have "the gout" (said in a very crotchety, old-man voice). Thanks for making me feel SO much younger, dear husband.

I'm convinced my second toes are protesting any and all shoes. They are the longest of the bunch - why do they have to be scrunched while the other toes get ample space to move around? Equal rights for ALL TOES!

...

...

Wow. I started this post talking about my moments of crazy and end with anthropomorphizing my toes.

This would be a good place to stop before any more crazy comes out.

(Let's hope the next month brings better topics of discussion)

Ridin' the waves...

I'm usually one who embraces change. However, this time around the change that is happening is huge and throws my head into an angry sea of mixed emotions. And when my brain is swimming, I need to talk...or blog.

After taking the first 3 months of Peanut's life just to be with her, I returned to the work force part-time. Once Christmas hit (and with that, our awesome childcare) we decided I should be the stay-at-home parent.

Now, after nearly a year of 24/7 mom time, I will be working outside of the home again - full time (ok, so it's not 100% definite yet, but it's pretty close). If it weren't for the specific opportunity I've been presented, I wouldn't have given it a thought...so don't think this is something we HAVE to do.

Peanut is a toddler now. She is growing increasingly independent, she loves being social and would benefit from a group setting. Also, ShankRabbit will be dropping her off and picking her up from daycare each day, so she will get a lot more one-on-one time with daddy, which is awesome.

There are just so many positives to this new situation that the "other stuff" seems so insignificant...but they are still there. I won't even list them because I don't want to dwell.

((sigh))

I just have to come to grips with letting my "baby" go...letting her grow and develop into the lovely child she is quickly becoming. Just yesterday she learned how to carefully dip her french fry in ketchup and take a bite (after a few rounds of just licking the ketchup off, she figured it out). We visited a potential daycare facility this afternoon and she was there only 5 minutes before she wanted nothing to do with us and ran off to play with the toys and other kids.

It's hard for me, but I think when all is said and done I'll be more happy than sad.

* * * * *

In other big news, our best friends (one of which was Peanut's nanny for a while) are moving 6 hours away in a couple weeks. My thoughts? LALALALALALALALA...I CAN'T HEAR YOU! Yeah, I'm taking the adult approach to this other big change...

Random stuff

I'm all hopped up on productivity, so I thought I'd write a blog post (no, my BFF is not instructing me to write a post...nope, not at all)

First, I'd like to tell you all about the beautiful start to my morning. In half-consciousness, I hear a BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP (annoying yet? Because it sure was annoying the heck out of me). First thought - am I dreaming? No. Second thought - phone alarm? I certainly didn't set one and it was just after 7am - too early for ShankRabbit to wake up. Third thought - Smoke/Carbon Monoxide detector? Ohholyjebus, I'M AWAKE I'M AWAKE! Turns out, that wasn't the source. There's nothing like a little jolt of adrenaline to get your butt out of bed.

After about an ETERNITY (morning speak for 2 minutes or so), the beeping stopped. Followed shortly thereafter by the sweet, dulcet tones of a jackhammer.
(I later figured out that the beeping must have been the reversing sound of their work truck.)

This was all forgiven when I spied the guy manning the jackhammer do Michael Jackson-like moves trying to evade a bee. Quite comical.

After dropping the dear husband off at work, I took the long way to get on the highway. I wait at the light for it to turn green. I proceed into the intersection, ready to make a left hand turn, and I am greeted with the sounds of screeching tires and smoke to my left. Apparently, Mr. Pays-no-attention-to-the-road was about to speed right on through the red light...right into my van (well, technically, he would clipped the back end of a different car first, then me). I was very proud that the only thing to come out of my mouth was a very loud "OH CRAP!" I tend to go for more, uh...colorful words in the car.

Although my morning is not something I'd like to recreate, I'm more awake now that if I drank a whole pot of coffee. Let's give it up for adrenaline!

* * * * *

Joshua Radin just came up on my Pandora station. I'm happy-dancing in my seat right now.

* * * * *

I took Peanut to the Westown farmer's market yesterday. In addition to chasing pigeons and stopping to watch a juggler perform, she got a chance to bust-a-move to some live music. It was a lot more fun of a farmer's market than I'm used to - though my usual stop has more of a selection.
If it wasn't for the sticky heat and evil eyes from other mommys (apparently I was sitting a little too close to this mommy-groupmember's unmanned stroller. Hey lady, if you're going whisper and shoot glares for getting too close to your purse, then here's a thought: put it over your freaking shoulder and not hanging off the handle of your stroller! Didn't anyone ever tell you that if you make that face too much it might stay that way? Perpetually angry gofer is not a good look on you), we would have stayed longer.

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Big, big changes around the corner. Lots of stuff to think about that I'm sure I'll share with you all soon.