I will start by saying that I think for some reason people have started using the word “Literally” WAY too often, me included but this time it fits.

Holy Sh#t.  Literally.  I had a colonoscopy today.

I am not sure I would wish the prep for the exam on my worst enemy.  Well, maybe my WORST enemy but they would have to be really bad.  Like, the worst.  I might wish it on the guy at Dos Hombres in Lawrence Kansas in about 1995 who thought I was pregnant simply because I was “college fat” for a while there but that is about it.  Yeah, on second thought, I would wish it on that skinny dweeb but I draw the line there.  I wouldn’t even wish it on Jay Cutler or any of the Kardashians.  Wait, I take it back, I wish it on the mom (Kris Jenner) and Kim.  Ok, so just those three but that is it.  Promise.

The actual procedure was a piece of cake.  I was out like a light due to anesthesia so there was not a chance of being humiliated or embarrassed.  Thank God.  Nobody needs to be awake while 6 people with masks hover over you and one of them sticks a camera up your butt.  That is just not necessary.

The good news is I learned that my colon just has some “very sharp curves”.  What exactly this means, I have no idea.  What is it?  A racecourse?

The bad news is that I went through 94 rolls of toilet paper and may have scarred my pals for life while I was getting ready for the damn thing.  You have to clean your system out before the camera up the butt operation can commence.    You have to drink a large potion of what appeared to be neon yellow poison. It tasted like it was drained through a hooker’s tube sock for starters.

“Mommy, what are you doing in there?”  “Are you peeing or pooping?  I can’t tell.”  Well, join the club.   Mommy can’t tell either.  I have no idea what was going on down there.  I just know I never want to have it happen again.  My stomach sounded like it had a bunch of feral cats fighting over the last can of tuna.  It was outrageous to say the least.

I had to stop eating Tuesday evening and the procedure was at 11 am today, Thursday.  That is a long time not to eat.  Every morsel of food I saw on Wednesday looked divine.  Every niblet of food smelled like a  5 star chef cooked it.  My husband came home with fried chicken.  Listen, I don’t even like fried chicken and we never ever have it but for some reason last night I wanted fried chicken so bad I would have traded my right arm for it.  It smelled like a dream come true.  My husband was sitting here licking his greasy little fingers one by one.  Meanwhile, I was stuck drinking some hideous fluorescent drink that was sending me to the pot every 3 seconds.  I was squeezing my butt cheeks so hard I had leg cramps and my teeth were chattering.  My kids had macaroni and cheese for dinner and it looked like macaroni and heaven to me.

I am pretty sure that I am not ready to go through the experience again any time soon.  I am slightly embarrassed for myself and I am not sure my toilet will ever look at me the same.  I can’t say I blame it.  A colonoscopy is no joke, well the prep anyway.  I would rather climb to the tippy top of the highest building in the land and jump off and land on a bike without a seat than do that again.  Actually, it is probably about even steven – the bike and the colonoscopy.  You have been warned.  Officially.

Bribery goes a long way in our house.  I will admit it.  I am not ashamed at all.  It works for us although I know some people don’t use this tool.  To these people, I say, “What is wrong with you?”  I will bribe my pals with everything from a cookie to staying up late to an outing.

My latest bribe that worked like a charm as bribing them with taking them to see “Disney on Ice” or as I referred to it, “watching Buzz Lightyear and Minnie Mouse ice skate.”  First you have to understand that my kids LOVE Disney.  My daughter is beyond obsessed with all things Minnie Mouse.  It probably isn’t even healthy, this little obsession she has.  If you ask her what she wants to be when she grow up, she will tell you Minnie Mouse.  After she says her good night prayers, she blesses everyone she loves.  The order always goes “Minnie, Mommy, Daddy, Nonie, Papa, Nana……” Ouch.  Meanwhile, Buzz Lightyear has a laser so you he ranks pretty high in my son’s mind.  Anyone with a laser is tits in his book.

So after being relatively well behaved for the week, they got their wish.  We went to watch Buzz and Minnie ice skate.  We also saw hot dogs ice skate.  For real.  These things marched out on to the ice and my daughter leaned over and asked me why the hot dogs were dancing.  That is a damn good question Eden. Why are those hot dogs dancing?

They are really broom sticks but they looked way more like hot dogs than a broom stick.  I like the way her mind thinks.  Genius.

You know what else is genius?  Bringing in your own popcorn so you don’t get juiced for a 12 dollar box.

Even more genius?  Bringing glow bracelets from the Dollar Store.  The poor sap in front of me got taken to the tune of 188 dollars buying crap that lit up and spun around for his kids.  It is all junk that they won’t give a rip about as soon as the lights come up.  I take that back, they will like them for the car ride home as well.

I buy my kids a ton of useless crap but buying stuff at the circus or an event like that is something they haver never experienced because I am the queen of contraband shit.  I bring everything from popcorn to juice boxes and candy.  I made sure we were all dressed in Mickey and Minnie stuff too so they didn’t ask for that too.

Believe it or not, they didn’t ask once.  They were fine with their bag of homemade popcorn, the juice box and the glow bracelets from Dollar Tree.  They always have them there by the way so I stock up. I am in love with the dollar store by the way…..they have a ton of crap but I buy a few things there regularly from sandwich ziploc bags,  kids toothbrushes, paper plates and napkins for kids parties and hand soap for my pals.  They always have character stuff (Disney, Snoopy, Spiderman etc).  I saw frozen steak there one time.  I promise I took a pass on that.  Promise…..or do I?

It is amazing how truthful kids can be.  I wonder when the switch is going to flip in my pals tiny heads but right now, I like it just the way it is.    There is no need for me to check up on my kids because if they are not ratting each other out, they are ratting themselves out.

Just tonight during bath time (which is one of the best times because all 3 kids are contained on one space.) I asked the kids about school and if anyone got in trouble today at school.  L.A. responded, “L.A. got in trouble.  He was very naughty.”  Well, really Einstein, do tell me more.  “He wouldn’t put his shoes on and Miss Campbell got very mad.  Then L.A. maybe threw the shoes.”  OK, smarty pants, don’t throw your shoes ever again and listen to Miss Campbell when she tells you something.  Ok Mommy.  Eden just sat there all wide eyed.  I asked her if she got in trouble today.  She did not.  She listened today because she is “so pretty.”  Ok, sounds good to me.  Maybe that is why I am such a good listener. (Says the worst listener in the world).

Listening is not one of my strong suits and it drives my husband crazy.  I think having 3 kids allows you to tune out everything.  My sister, Amy, used to do this and before I had kids it was mind boggling to me.  Her kids would be screaming, “Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom” over and over and after about the 843rd time she would say, “What, are you talking to me?”  She was busy doing something and tuned it out.  She is super mom so she was likely making a souffle or stenciling a wall with a mid century work of art.  Now, that is me and it kills Arno.  My husband could be talking about diamonds and Taco Bell and I hear circus music sometimes.  I am just not the best listener.  I also am not the best at doing laundry or eating salmon or making the bed or keeping my giant car clean or keeping dirty dishes out of the sink or watching the news.

If you find your bathroom scale to be outdated and cluttering up your space, pitch it and find a 3 year old.  Just ask them if you are fat.  They will tell you.  I ask my kids ALL the time.  So far, so good.  Phew.  Although L.A.  did tell me the other day that maybe I could “not see so good because I have cracks by my eyes.”  Ouch.  I even asked him where and sure enough he pointed out the crows feet.  “Mommy, I do not have those cracks.”  Yes, Fabio, I am aware now quit reminding me that I am getting older.

So I guess if you need to know the truthful answer to absolutely anything, come ask my kids.  I cannot guarantee you will get the answer you want but you know it will be the truth.  Now excuse me while I go putty the cracks by my eyes.

Ok, by now we all know about Pinterest.  You either love it or hate it.  I personally love it because I am kind of a nerd.  I like crafts and I love to cook so it is right up my alley.  Although I do think it has a way of trying to get into normal mom’s (like me) brain and try and make you feel inadequate.  Some of the projects are just way too out there for me.  For example, the pinata cookie.

If you have time to make this damn thing, PLEASE, please come over here.  I will put you to work  I mean, come on.  Who has the time or energy to do this?  I looked at the instructions just for kicks and it looks to be about a 12 hour process.  To that I say, “I’m out.”  And if you make these pinata cookies, I am not sure we can be friends.  Well, unless you come over and let me put you to work, then in that case, I could have an opening in the best friend department.

So if you are a Pinterest regular, you have no doubt seen this gem.

It’s simple really.  Fill water balloons with water, add food coloring and then put them out to freeze.  You are left with these stunning giant marbles.  Not quite.  I did not fall for this one because I knew it was going to be a pain in the balls.  Better yet, a messy pain in the balls.  I saw into the future when I considered this for a split second and the future did not look good.  It looked messy – very messy. My dear friend Wendy did not listen or look into her future.  Apparently she likes pains in the balls because she texted me these photos of her house after attempting this project.

If this happened to me, I might just walk away.  Walk straight out the door and stick a “For Sale” sign in the 12 foot snow drift with a sign that says, “AS IS”.  I might even grab my pals and have them come with me.  I could move again.  No problem.

You see I hate messes and even more, I despise cleaning them up.  That is why my house currently looks like a tornado of teeth, hair, diapers and eyeballs just rolled through here.  6 cups of blue food coloring on a cream carpet is literally, a recipe for disaster.  So word to the wise, skip this one all together.  Unless of course you like balls, the kind with pain in them.

We do a ton of stuff with food coloring in our house.  It is kind of like a staple over here and once in a while they have it at the dollar store so I stock up.  Currently, this is our favorite one.

Did you ever think to add it to your marshmallows when you are making Rice Krispie treats?  This makes making holiday themed Rice Krispie treats a snap.  We just made Valentine’s day ones the other day.

Yes, I realize that one photo looks like a vat of ground beef.  I also realize that my kids wear pajamas A LOT.  I hate doing laundry so if we don’t leave the house, sometimes we just keep them on ALL day.  Shhhh…..don’t tell my mom.  She would not approve.

We also put it a couple drops of the food coloring on the bottom of clear plastic cups and let it dry.  I did a bunch of these one night and let them dry and then stacked and stored them in the pantry.  So then when my kids want a fun surprise drink, you just add liquid. You put ice cubes in and add La Croix (my kids are weird, I know.  We all love La Croix in our house) or Sprite or hell, even tap water.  You don’t know what color you are going to get until you add the liquid.  They like to guess what color they are going to get.  It is actually pretty cool, I am not gonna lie.

We also add it to applesauce….my kids are obsessed with all things apple.

They particularly like the green apple sauce because they pretend they are eating a bowl of boogers.  Whatever works.  I buy the unsweetened kind so they can eat as much as they like.

Lastly, we put it in the bathtub.  They take turns who is going to pick the color.  I have to admit, when they pick red, It creeps the hell out of me and yellow is just gross.  But blue or green I can get down with.  Although lately we have been doing so many damn bubbles so you can’t even see the water.   My kids figured out that if you push the jacuzzi button thing on their tub, it is like a bubble machine.  It is insane.  I have almost lost poor Abbott a few times in the thing.

And the poor dog inevitabley gets sick from eating the bubbles.  F’ing Enzo.

So go grab a box of food coloring but beware what you do with it.  Just ask Wendy.

Do you want a way to get your kids to eat an entire apple in once sitting?   Then ask for more?  Better yet, want a way to get your kids to FIGHT over apples?  Then get yourself an old fashioned apple peeler.  This thing is awesome and has been around for literally 100’s of years.

We went to my Aunt’s house and she whipped this thing out and I was amazed.  I was even more amazed to learn that her actual apple peeler was the one my grandmother used when she made hundreds of apples pies year after year.  I figured it was some fancy thing that my aunt got off of an informercial.  My Aunt Diane is nothing short of amazing.  She likes all things inappropriate and our minds are way too much alike.  She likes farts, boxed wine and laughing.  Laughing is the best.  Boxed wine is not bad either.  She finds it hysterical when people vomit and she can shake her groove thing on the dance floor.  She does not mess around.

Everyone should have an Aunt Diane.  It is my dad’s only sister.  I wish my Grandma had a blog when she was raising those 2 because the stories are amazing.  Like the time my dad got a bird without telling anyone and decided to hide it in the heat register in the house, in turn cooking the poor thing.  He was water boy for the Varsity basketball team and his favorite color was pink.  My grandma told me she always teased him because his whole closet was filled with clothes, lots of them pink.  While my Aunt Diane would be out on the farm running around with boys, Eddie (my dad) would be right next to her making pies.  “I would tell him, Eddie, get outside and run around with the boys.”  Well, my amazing parents have been married almost 50 years and have 7 kids and my dad does have a better wardrobe than my mother so I guess it has always been his thing.  He still does wear pink too.  When they were little they lived on a farm and one year they ended up dying somewhere around 56 DOZEN eggs.  56 DOZEN or 57 DOZEN, either way, thats a lot of eggs and they of course, had to eat them all too.  Can you imagine eating that many hard boiled eggs?  Something tells me they didn’t have any friends visit without a clothespin on their snoot.

Anyway, back to the peeler.  It takes the entire peel off, cores it and then slices the apple into rings.  My pals think it is tits.  So do I.

Miss Eden can barely contain her excitement when we whip it out.  They take turns doing their own apples. They cannot turn the wheel again until they finish the first apple.  Most times I whip it out my pals will eat 2 apples.  Amazing.

They actually take turns peeling their own apple and L.A.’s favorite part is that super long string of  peel that comes off as well.  I tell him to put the peel in the garbage but he would rather pretend he is a zombie full of spider webs.

You can buy it on Amazon for less than 20 bucks.  Worth every penny.  Free shipping too with Prime.  On a side note, if you do not have Amazon Prime.  Do it.  You deserve it and if you do a lot of online shopping, it will pay for itself in a month.  (Prime is one year of free 2 day shipping for 80 bucks.  You can try it free for one month too.  Check it out)

So it is good clean fun, takes time and my pals consider it a “project”.  We do one project a day over here so this makes life real easy when this one of them.  Clean up is a breeze since they eat the mess we make.

So here is a close up of what this genius contraption does….

Genius, I tell you.  Genius.

Well, it took me about one year and 2 weeks but I have found something that my giant baby does not like.  The sippy cup.

Holy hell.  This transition from bottle to sippy cup is NOT going as planned.  He hates it.  I repeat, he hates it. I know “hate” is a strong word and my mother always told me never to use the word.  Sometimes you just have to, like when referring to things like ketchup.  I hate ketchup.  The thought of it can make me gag a little.

You know what else I hate?  When you go to use someone’s bathroom or go to a public bathroom and there is a random pubic hair hanging out on the toilet seat.  It always throws me off.  Blech.  Or how about when you walk into a one stall public bathroom and it smells like someone died in there.  You hold your breath and try to get our of there fast as lightening and then you open the door and someone like your boss is out there.  What do you do?  Do you do the mature thing and not say a word as it is a bathroom and I guess that is what it is for?  Not me, I ALWAYS tell whoever is out there, “it wasn’t me.”  I don’t need that.  What about when you are driving and you let someone into traffic and they don’t give you the “thank you” wave.  That gets me too.  I also hate balsamic vinegar…..and salmon.  Lastly, when my dog, Enzo snuggles up to me, falls asleep and let’s one fly.  Dog farts are so bad they can peel the wallpaper off the wall.  It is like a mixture of beef and eggs.  Once in a while, they are so bad that they wake him up.  Gross.  Ok, rant over.

Back to the sippy cup……

Just the mere sight of the thing sets him off.  I feel bad for thinking it is funny because it kind of is but I know I should not laugh.  But what am I going to do?  Have him use a bottle for the rest of his life?  He already looks awkward carrying around a bottle because he is so giant.  He also looks like he should be done shitting his pants but we got a long ways to go on that one.  He looks more like he should be grabbing a tiny briefcase and going to work where he sits in an office cube and has a boss named Hector.

I guess when he gets thirsty enough he will drink out of it but I can’t even get him to put the darn thing near his mouth.

Everytime I give it to him, he bats it away like a fly.  Almost like it is a ticking time bomb of sorts.

So here is where the sippy cups sit in our house – on the ground.

Enzo loves it because it is something new for him to sniff and then when the milk drips out he thinks he hit the jackpot.  And I wonder why he has gas?!?!?

So, either I will have one dehydrated baby on my hands or we are back to the bottle.  Wish us luck.  We’ll need it.  Luck and lots of air freshener over here.

Well, it was about time it happened to me.  I made it through my pal L.A. NEVER doing it and just over a year with my giant baby, Abbott (Abs, Abbey Road, Abbott the rabbit, Abbey, Butters, Butterball, SIr Butters) and thought I was in the clear.  Then it happened today.

The hot rainbow.

Just a quick change of the diaper before we are heading out the door.  We are already running late and I knew my outfit was just missing something but I could not quite put my finger on it.  Thank God my sweet Butters knew what it was missing – hot whiz.  A LOT of hot whiz.

Literally, it is a hot rainbow….of whiz, except you just get a gross wet outfit and a few high pitched squeals instead of a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.

It has never happened to me so I have to admit.  It scared the shit out of me.  I was not ready.  I was not prepared.  I had just put on my Lululemon uniform and was ready to hit the road running errands like a champ that also needs to make a run through the Taco Bell drive thru.  (Damn you meximelt, you get me every time).

They make these lame “pee pee tee pee” things that you are supposed to put over the tiny donger when you change the diaper, but come on?!?  Seriously?  Lamest thing ever.  That is something an overly high strung mother uses.  Or on second thought, maybe just a mother who does not want to get a hot rainbow.

I am a risk taker, a real gambler…..ooh la la.  I figured if I made it through at least 7 diapers a day for 2.5 years with L.A…..that is a lot of diaper changes, in fact, it is exactly 6,804 diapers.  One year in the typical diaper world is 2500 dirty diapers a year.  That alone is mind boggling but then I had to do it with twins.  Good times.  But never in over six thousand diaper changes did he whizz on me.  I thought it was all about respect and love for mommy.  He does tell me I am his best friend all the time, well, me and his sister.  Apparently we pass the best friend baton back and forth.  That’ll do for now.  But I know he must like me a touch more because he never gave me a hot rainbow when he was growing up.

Now, today I was officially christened,  I guess it was only fair.  I should not be able to make it out of having 2  boys and never get a hot rainbow.

This guy was the culprit….and Butters is too darn cute and the best baby ever so I can’t get mad.  It did not go in my mouth.  That could have been another story.

So ,yeah, it happened to me today.  Took me completely by storm.  As I am gazing into his eyes, singing his baby song – “boom sha boom, boom boom my baby I say boom sha boom”…….and with the biggest smile you ever on his buttery face – here came the hot rainbow.  I shreaked which in turn scared him but then we ended up laughing.  Sort of laughing.

The hot rainbow.  Good times.  I would recommend it.

If you know me fairly well, you know that I am pretty frugal and love a good deal or value.  Sometimes my mind is warped and it does not make a lot of sense.  I will drive 18 miles out of my way to get the gas that is two cents lower a gallon.  I will trim and dye my own hair but spend money on Botox and manicures.   I will only order off the dollar menu when I go to McDonalds but have no problem getting the Surf and Turf when we go out to dinner.  I get it from my dad – I think they call it penny-wise and dollar foolish.  I still remember going to Shopko when we were little after church to buy White Rain shampoo.  They were 2 for one dollar and there was a limit of two.  So my dad gave us all $1.05 and handed us each a shampoo and conditioner and we each stood in line and bought our own.  There were 7 of us in church clothes in line at Shopko buying White Rain shampoo.  If my pals would actually stand in line and not run off with their pants down, I would totally do this today.

So I have spent a lot of money on dumb crappy toys for my pals and the thought of spending 150 bucks on some toy was really hard for me to wrap my brain around.  (I must disclose it is for the giant 100 piece pack).  My dear friend Kaila introduced me to Magna-tiles and told me I had to get them for my pals.  I checked them out and thought they looked pretty lame.  A bunch of plastic shapes with magnets in the end.  What is the big whoop?  The don’t light up.  They don’t have lasers.  Better yet, they cost 150 bucks.

I caved and listened to Miss Kaila, because she is pretty wise and knows her shit.  I ordered the Magna-tiles for my pals for xmas.  I shuddered when I added them to my cart on-line.  When they arrived in some crappy little cardboard box that appeared to be holding a pair of Reeboks I was thought it was a joke.  I wrapped them up and gave them to my pals for Christmas.  That was 43 days ago and those Magna-tiles have logged about 376 hours of play time.

They. Are. Awesome.

The best part is that it is not TV.  It is good old-fashioned fun.  They build stuff all day long and actually get along and work together to build stuff. They build houses and boats and rocket ships.  The other day L.A. built a toilet.  It actually looked like one too.  That was pretty good.  Then he put a tiny Buzz Lightyear in it and told me he was pretending to be the poop.  That sounds about right.

Of course they do cause tears once in a while.  Sometimes they build a super tall tower and the giant baby comes over and knocks it down.  Well, not sometimes, more like ALL the time.

Sometimes we fight because we have to have all the purple squares…..or green triangles but overall we have no complaints.  Well I complain about picking them up and the fact that we are down about 8 tiles.

So if you are looking for an awesome toy for your kids, Magna-tiles it is.  Even if my pals never played with them again I have gotten my money’s worth…..well, that might be pushing it because I am a miser but still…..

Just beware if you have a giant baby who pretends to be Godzilla with the tile towers.

Wow, just wow.  I need to get that out of the way.

I will admit that I was blessed with pretty decent legs and long nail beds.  One thing that I was not blessed with was a nice ass.  It is very flat and I spend half of my life pulling my pants up.  This coupled with the fact that I do not have much of a waist is a recipe for disaster.  I really should invest in belts but I find them so tacky and I feel like they accentuate the barrel physique.

I will never forget the first time Arno saw me naked.  I was blow drying my hair and he walked into the bathroom and just stared with this weird look on his face.  Very self consciously I asked him what the problem was, to which he responded.  “You know what your problem is?  You simply have no waist.”  I SIMPLY have no waist……or ass.

So, back to the ass or lack of.  I was just flipping through the photos on my phone and came across these.  I about died.

Apparently Eden had my phone and decided to snap some pictures.

What in the world is wrong with me?  For starters, why are my pants pulled up to my chin?  Oh I see why, apparently I really like to pull them up….high, very high.  I don’t mess around.  I guess if my pants are not falling down, they are up to my boobs.  There is no in between with me.

So let me introduce you to something that runs in our family.  It is the “Taco Butt”.  My dad so kindly passed this onto me.  Thanks dad.  Now let me describe the taco butt for you.  It is flat all around, a touch wide and somewhat pointy at the bottom….and it is mine, all mine.  It resembles 2 flat taco shells pressed up against each other.  It is terrible.

I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars that my husband is a boob guy and not a butt guy.

So the next time your kid grabs your phone, beware.  You never know what in God’s name you could find.

I feel like I have told 864 people about this recipe and that I would send it over.  I know I failed about 862 times because I know I did in fact send it to Erica and Eileen.  Ladies, apparently you cut muster.

I LOVE going out for Indian food but the thought of making it at home is daunting.  This recipe will change the way you feel about making it at home.  My sister sent me a recipe she found but it was too much work for me (pounding out chicken and marinating it for hours etc).  I have zero time for that shit so I do mine differently.  I add a bit more this and little less this and it is out of this world.  Grab some Naan from Trader Joes or Costco or wherever you can find it, serve it over brown or white rice and you will be heaven.

I even took pics like a real blogger does so you can see it every step of the way.  You are welcome.

Ok, The technical name is Indian lime chicken but I shun my cold shoulder on the lime  and only let him pop by for a tiny visit so I do not give him top billing.  The lime does not take over and we just call this “good shit Indian chicken”.  For real.  Arno calls and wants to know what is for dinner, “good shit Indian chicken”.  Sounds good to him.  Do you know what the best part is?  My kids like it.  Seriously.  They like happy meals and hot dogs but like “good shit indian chicken”.  Maybe they just like to say the name,   HHmmmmmmm…..I may be onto something.

So here is what you need:

Get started with this:

2-4 Chicken breasts (we do 2 or 3  because we LOVE the sauce soaking into the rice but 4 would totally work too if you wanted to skip rice or go minimal).  In our house, the sauce is boss.

1 can coconut milk (the light stuff works too)

1 Tablespoon oil (I use canola)

1.5 teaspoon cumin

1.75 teaspoon corriander (crushed powder)

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoon curry powder

2 Tablespoons soy sauce

2 Tablespoons powdered sugar (real plain old sugar  would work too.  Real recipe calls for granulated but all I had was powdered and I stuck with it because it worked for me)

Zest of 1 lime and juice for squeezing should the mood strike you

Handful of chopped cilantro

1/2-1 cup of frozen peas

Pepper to taste – either crushed red or a jalapeno.  (When we make it with the kids we skip this but for ourselves, the good shit Indian dinner has big ole jalapeno slices.

Ok, now the process (can you tell this is my first recipe I am posting?!?!?)

Dice the chicken into small somewhat bite size uniform cubes

Brown the chicken in a decent amount of veg oil, NOT olive oil as the the flavor of the oil will overtake it.  I tried this once.  I think like 4 tsp oil.  brown it with a touch of salt.

In the meantime, whisk everything else together in a bowl.  The coconut milk, canola oil, lime zest, sugar, soy sauce, salt, curry, cumin and coriander.  Save the cilantro and peas.

Then dump that right in to the browned chicken.

Let this all simmer on very low for at least 20 minutes so all the flavors can incorporate.  Mine usually sits there longer as I have a fight to break up over who is more awesome or who loves Minnie more.  Then I inevitably have to change a diaper and let the dog out who is scratching at the back door.  Moral of the story, timing is not precise, nothing is.

After you do your duties…. break up fights, watch something on Bravo, stalk your high school boyfriend through Facebook, it is probably time to add the peas and cilantro.

Stir this all up and let simmer another few minutes so the frozen peas can come to life.  I LOVE peas.  What’s not to love?!?

Get ready to serve this then over brown or white rice, even vermicelli would be great.  I prefer ghetto instant white rice, store brand of course.  Serve it with a lime wedge so people can squeeze the fresh juice if they want more.  I am not a huge fan so I like the recipe with just the little bit of zest, not a full out lime assualt.  My husband  and Sas would squeeze 76 limes on it if they could.  Blech.

Here it is folks……and if you like indian food, MAKE this.  I promise you will enjoy it.  Once you buy the 3 spices (Cumin, corriander and curry) you can pretty much have it become a last minute dinner.  I always buy coconut milk when it is on sale and frozen chicken breast is a staple.

So here it is, “good shit Indian chicken”.  I am confident you will think it is out of this world….and if you do not, we need to re-evaluate our taste bud friends.  We can still be friends but not the taste buds.  Mine may be too cool for yours.  But I doubt it, because you will find this is a quick fix for an Indian craving that you can do in your own kitchen.

So now go enjoy your “good shit Indian.”  It does not disappoint – and neither do my kids at bed time.