Am I crazy or does it feel like we just removed the last shiny ornament from the tree?

Yet next week is Easter.  Already.

A fact that had Jeff and I hopping around town on Saturday running from store to store on behalf of an errant bunny.  And while I deeply appreciate the fact that my oldest child is willing and able to stay home babysitting, something about paying her the big bucks just so that I can go out and buy bling for her basket doesn’t seem quite right.

Moving right along though…

So with the basket goodies bought and stowed I’m nearly ready for Easter.  All that’s left to do now is hide the eggs and plan the menu.

And so what if my mind wandered to possible Easter meal ideas today during the pastor’s sermon.  At least I was thinking on topic.

Which brings me to my point.  And yes, I do have one.

More of a confession really: I’m not a traditionalist when it comes to holiday meals.

While you may be feasting on ham and scalloped potatoes come Easter Sunday, my family will likely be enjoying something from the grill.

On Christmas, we skip the turkey dinner in favor of Mexican.  Usually enchiladas.

You won’t find us eating corned beef on St. Patty’s day either.

I will admit to being sort f sentimental about Halloween food though.  I’ve been known to whip up a big ‘ol pot of stick-to-yer-bones chili.  In spite of the fact that our Arizona temps rarely dip below 70 for the Trick-or-Treating hour.

For Easter this year I’m thinking Migas and French toast casserole with grilled veggie kabobs.  Add a bowl of strawberries and honeydew alongside this DELICIOUS (and so very easy) fruit dip and we’re set.

And in spite of all the sugar that I fully intend to include in brunch itself, I think I’ll top it off with dessert.  Tell me THESE don’t look scrumptious.  Go ahead.  Tell me.

So.  What will you be eating once you’ve devoured the deviled eggs?

It’s a big day in the Spot household.

These are being delivered.

At long last.

I’ve got a wall to paint.

And bins to order.

I’m on my way to the most chic laundry room on the block.

Pictures to follow.

For now, though, I’ve got dust bunnies to clear.

Happy Friday.

If you have a child with any degree of learning disability you most likely are familiar with the IEP.  An IEP is an individualized education plan.  It sets forth educational goals for the child.  It also outlines the services that the school will provide (speech, occupational, physical therapies, etc.).  Once each year we sit down with the school and–line by line–we write the IEP.  The therapists who provide services to the student are on hand to offer status updates and suggest goals for the upcoming year.

Every IEP meeting that I’ve ever been to starts out with helpful and encouraging updates as to Cassidy’s progress.  By the end of that second hour, though, things start to drone on.  And on.  And on.

The same could certainly be said for yesterday’s IEP.  Until, that is, one of the staff members brought up a concern that needed addressing.

You remember that little flatulence issue that Cassidy‘s family suffers through?

The staff is all too familiar.

In the midst of the IEP we spent a good twenty minutes discussing possible solutions.

The discussion resulted in near hysterical laughter at one point as we explored the ramifications of Cassidy’s tummy turbulence.

For the most part, everyone refrained from labeling the issue at all, referring to it as a “stomach problem” or the expelling of air.

And then there was Jeff.

Who, not once, but TWICE said the “F” word during the discussion.

And yes, by the “F” word I’m referring to the four letter one.

The one that rhymes with heart.

Because if anyone is klassy, it is most certainly him.

As if his showing up thirty minutes late for the meeting wasn’t bad enough.

You know what else he was doing throughout the meeting?

Leaning his child-size chair back onto the two back legs.  An action that he gets onto the kids for doing at home.

By the end of that meeting something tells me that the staff learned a lot about where Cassidy’s behavior issues stem from.

I’m just sayin’.

I’ve mentioned Jeff’s house specialty a time or two on the ol’ blog.  Each time that I bring up his grilled tequila lime chicken, my inbox floods (well maybe not floods, but you get the idea) with requests for the recipe.  This most recent time I promised a few friends on Facebook that I’d post the recipe.  I just so happen to be  a woman of my word (not counting the hasty bribes offered to my children) so I am posting the recipe.  Not like it’s a family gem or anything.  He pretty much adapted his house margarita concoction to work as a marinade.  That’s right my friends.  It’s like having your margarita and eating it too.  If the name alone didn’t leave your mouth watering, I know you’re thirsty hungry now.

Mark my words: you won’t regret it this one in the morning.

2-3 pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breast.  Or any other meat I suppose.
juice from 4-5 squeezed limes.
1/4 c. Triple Sec
1/2 c. Tequila
1 T. chili powder
1 T. cumin
3 cloves minced garlic
Kosher salt and pepper to taste.

Mix it all up and drop in the chicken.  Let it all hang out together in the fridge for at least 2 hours (preferably longer though) before you grill and enjoy.  Thoroughly. enjoy.

We use tequila lime chicken for tacos, tostadas, enchiladas, you name it.  We also just eat it plain sometimes too but it adds a delicious twist to any Mexican dish that calls for chicken.

¡Olé!