Okay, this weekend was not our best and trying to blog about the world’s lamest weekend is no task for the weak, yet here I am.

Friday at about 5:00AM I woke up with something fierce trying to kill me. I couldn’t stop throwing up, and I was throwing up so violently that I think I pulled a muscle because I developed this crazy intense abdominal pain. Suffice it to say, at about 10:00AM I texted Ryan “please come home” and, away we went in to be seen.

They gave me some anti-nausea medication and a painkiller and I was good-to-go. I don’t think I’ve ever had pain killers before, except maybe once when I was in high school, and I’m here to tell you that modern medicine is a beautiful thing. It was like nothing had ever happened. My body was at peace after I honestly thought I was dying. (Sometime you should Google nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and abdominal pain, it’s a fun ride!) Once I was done passing out from the pain/throwing up/being a mess, I had a CT scan and labs taken. Nothing was noticeably wrong in either, so it was decided I had the stomach flu. Leave it to me to need an IV of drugs and a CT scan for the stomach flu. I’m keeping up on Zofran, but it’s Sunday night and I still don’t feel great. Woof.

That night Ryan’s friend spent the night, so the two of them did whatever two almost thirty-year-old straight high school friends do — played ping pong and watched Jackass — while I tried to sleep off whatever virus that thought the world was better without me.

The next day we got ready for a Friendsgiving by making ten pounds of mashed potatoes (OMG actually, let me go grab some — damn, I make good potatoes) and candied sweet potatoes.

Can I just take a moment to say “wow”? Fifteen year old me, laying in the back of Ryan’s truck with my friends while the two of them drove over speed bumps would have never imagined we would be here. Married to Ryan, with a kid, a house, a career, a dog, with Jordan making sweet potatoes. It just blows my mind. Blows. My. Mind. So yeah, I had to document the moment they sat with the recipe book trying to figure out what jackets meant and what to do if maybe, accidentally, someone baked the potatoes before boiling them.

Friendsgiving was fun, just like any other event with food and people is. I learned about LipSense (did I spell that right), tattoos, brewing your own kombucha, and other things I can’t even write about on this public blog. But most of all I learned that I need to figure out how to make cornbread casserole.

Anyways, that was yesterday. Today it’s been chill. Except not really, because now Ryan is the one throwing up and living in the bathroom. It’s not a great look, but I’m just praying Temen doesn’t catch anything. Honestly, it’s the worst. When people say they had the stomach flu or a virus, I frown and say “ugh, that stinks.” But no, it’s like actual hell on Earth and I’m going to send them a card or something because they deserve a card of encouragement for dealing with that and coming out the other end. #survivor

That brings me to cookies.

I love baking. Mainly because I love eating. But I’m also just plain lazy when it comes to anything having to do with anything at home. I know, I’m a horrible person and wife, we get it. The other weekend I was making brownies when I realized I had everything except chocolate chips to make chocolate chip cookies. Next to where we normally house chocolate chips were two big Costco size containers of peanut butter though. I thought, well, let’s make peanut butter cookies! Have you ever made peanut butter cookies?

Yes?

No?

Yes?

Okay, if you have, you’re probably dead to me.

Did you know how easy they are to make? I feel personally victimized that no one told me how easy these delicious little nuggets of heaven are. And because I’m apparently a better person than you are, I’m here to tell you:  Peanut butter cookies are easy. If I can do it, you can do it. It’s honestly three ingredients.

Print

Three Ingredient Peanut Butter Cookies

The easiest, most delicious peanut butter cookies you will ever make!

Prep Time 3 minutes

Cook Time 10 minutes

Total Time 13 minutes

Ingredients

• 1 cup Creamy Peanut Butter
• 1 cup Sugar
• 1 egg

Instructions

1. Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees

2. Mix three ingredients until incorporated

3. Roll a tablespoon of dough into a ball, place on cookie sheet and repeat with the rest of the dough

4. Press a fork into each ball slightly using a criss cross pattern

5. Sprinkle each cookie with a pinch of sugar

6. Bake in oven for 10 minutes - do not over bake! They won't seem like they are done, but I promise they are. 

7. Remove from oven, let finish cooking on sheet for 5-10 minutes before moving to cooling rack

8. Move to cooling rack or enjoy them while they're warm!

Recipe Notes

These cookies are incredibly soft when warm, so when you first take them out of the oven DO NOT try to take them off the sheet. They won't seem done, but I promise they are. 

Easy, right? You’re welcome. They’re delicious. Go make some. Less than fifteen minutes, three ingredients, one bowl, you’re welcome. Happy Monday.

xxoo,

Samm

On Wednesday I blogged about de-stressing after a stressful work day. Those things, in my opinion, are to be done sparingly so you don’t become a couch sloth like yours truly. But today I’m writing to tell you about a weekly ritual I do to keep me sane: game night. The key with game night is we don’t do it on the weekend, we do it on a weeknight. There’s no point in waiting to do everything until the weekend! The work week can be fun too, you just have to put in a little effort.

You see, I refuse to adhere to the idea that we only get two of seven days to live our best lives. This “Thank God it’s Friday!” thing leaves us constantly chasing a ball we keep kicking down the field. Me? I like to enjoy my ball here and now. I’m going to enjoy at least 80% of my life. I’m not settling on 28%. That’s bullshit and you know it.

 

Sometimes it’s nice to let loose and forget you have any problems. Like maybe my step dad doesn’t have cancer,  student loans aren’t ripping me a new asshole, and I’m not about to be jobless in a week. Things like that. So last night when my friend David was all “Let’s go play bingo at Liquor Lyle’s”, I was all “YES, LIQUOR  PLEASE.”

The night started off pretty shitty because sometimes David can be a pretty shitty date, but after a some time, and a couple drinks, he seemed to get better. (Either that or I learned how to entertain myself.) Twenty drinks and a plate of nachos later, the drag queen that runs the whole bingo sha-bang came strolling in. Suddenly we were playing bingo and for every number called people shouted something sing-songy. Needless to say, I was a one woman island over in my booth.

Things quickly turned around when I won the first round… along with three other people. And because this isn’t normal bingo, we of course had to fight for the prize. So fight I did. We all had to arm wrestle and I won. (Don’t be so surprised, ladies.) This was the start of my night. 

I had just whooped ass, was feeling high off of my victory, and was ready for more drinks. Before I knew it, drinks were 2 for 1. After a while, David opted to get the heck out of dodge so we could go to his place and “watch a movie”.

Don’t worry, this wasn’t before David embarrassed himself not only once, but twice. The first time he won bingo and had to fight for the prize by doing push ups. He lost the prize (and his dignity). A little later he thought he’d won again, but it was a false bingo and he was forced to sing to everyone on mic. You could   hear his pride just circling the drain — it was music to my ears.

Fast forward to David’s uptown apartment and a fully stocked fridge. I  plop on his floor in front of the open fridge with a bottle of pinot and miniature wheels of cheese. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than in this moment. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long because David keeps harassing me and saying lies like “you’re drunk” “you’re making a mess” “I hate you.” Blah, blah, blah. What a drama queen.

Eventually I sit down to watch some movie about an old man and a robot. It was kind of really horrible, so thankfully Ryan called and said he was on his way to pick me up. Before I know it, David is laughing frantically and locking me outside in the cold to die a slow and painful death. (See what I mean? Shitty date.) Fear not, Prince Charming  Ryan to the rescue.