Frozen Hot Chocolate Brownies

I made this for a church activity last night.  They are the most indulgent thing I know how to make.  We were instructed to bring a "treat" along with its recipe for girls who are graduating from high school and heading out into the wide world soon.  I figured there is no better way to win friends and influence people than with a million calorie brownie.



Frozen Hot Chocolate Brownies

Ingredients

• 26 TBSP butter
• 12 oz bittersweet or semisweet chocolate
• 6 eggs, room temperature
• 1 3/4 cups sugar
• 1 TBSP Vanilla
• 2 cups flour (all-purpose or pastry)
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 cup dark chocolate chips or chocolate buttons

Directions

• Line a 9x11 baking dish with parchment paper
• Preheat oven to 350 degrees F with rack in center
• Melt the butter and chocolate together in the microwave in 30 second increments, stirring each time.  Stop heating when about 85% melted.  Residual heat will take care of the rest.
• While chocolate mixture cools and finishes melting, beat the eggs, sugar and vanilla together in a large bowl.
• While beating egg mixture (in stand mixer or with hand mixer) slowly add chocolate mixture.  You don't want the eggs to cook (yet) so you are tempering it.
• In another bowl whisk the flour and salt together.
• Fold the flour mixture into the chocolate/egg mixture with a rubber spatula.
• Stir Chocolate chips/buttons in once flour is incorporated.
• Pour into prepared pan, smooth top and bake about 25 minutes, until top of brownies lightens in color
• Allow them to cool completely in the pan, then move pan to fridge or freezer.
• Once chilled through, lift from pan with the parchment paper and transfer to a cutting board to cut into individual servings.  Serve and store cold for best texture.

interim

I'm not very good at capturing my thoughts lately.  I have them in droves, but life always distracts me "before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain," and by "life" I mean the four children, one husband, and one house that do not function without my assistance.




I've been in need of a pep talk lately, and no-such thing has been surfacing on its own.  Doesn't take much digging to find pep talks for mothers in May though.  Still, this Spring has consisted primarily of disillusionment, with the bright and shiny exception of being accepted to the Grad school program I applied to.  It's a provisional acceptance; I still have to take the GRE in a few weeks.  Spending every spare moment either studying for it or feeling guilty that I'm not studying for it is getting old fast. Let's get on with life, shall we?

Sir O and the Captain are about to begin Summer break, and I'm trying to envision/prepare a new routine for us.  Preferably one that does not involve endless hours of screen time.  I'm refusing to be overwhelmed though very little besides my own obstinance seems to be on my side there.
Mr Renn will be working a lot, and the budget for summer activities is.... well there isn't one.

Let the sunburns commence.

Veer Right

I've been running in plenty of healthy circles lately.  Nobody can ever tell me that parenting is simple or straightforward.  The gray area is just a massive cloud of small, significant decisions to make and places to be.  And when your child exhibits characteristics that fall outside the bell curve, it always means more work for the mom.

Apart from Sir O's anxiety, the Captain and the Gentlemen with their speech, and the Captain's sensory issues (which are still getting figured out), I noticed a few months ago that Bunny was definitely favoring one side of her head over the other.  No matter how I try holding her she always wants to look to the right.  She can turn her head to the left, but not as far and certainly not as comfortably.

When I mentioned my concern to the pediatrician I got (without so much as a glance to see for himself) a rather glib referral for an x-ray to rule out skeletal issues and a subsequent recommendation to see a physical therapist. (For torticollis)

If only it were that easy.

No radiologist is going to give a baby an x-ray without anesthesia.  Most of the time they won't use general anesthesia on babies until they are at least 6 months old, and all of that seemed awfully expensive for a baby that nobody had actually taken a good look at or done a physical assessment on (especially when we would be paying for all of it out of pocket.) All of this seems like expensive overkill for a condition that "usually resolves itself."

And so we've been looking into our options.  But there's no clear-cut choice for me to make.  I have to create and imagine my own path here.  Part of me wants to brush it off.  Part of me wants to go to the ends of the earth to see it resolved.  The remaining parts of me are just tired and busy worrying about my other children and their quirks.  How much running around and being tested and receiving professional assistance can a family of relatively "normal" children manage to require?  The appointments, the babysitting arranging, the paperwork, the long, long list of things we should be doing at home.  Is this the destiny of every parent, or are we just that "special" ?

Have I brought it upon my own head by my diligence in trying to make sure my children's needs are met?  Would we all be better off if I would just chill-out?  How does anybody survive parenting without wallowing in a mire of self-doubt?

And when Bunny looks at me like this (every.single.day. I am so lucky.) I know she trusts me to take care of her every need.  She's not the least bit worried whether I'll mess it all up.  Faith is magic, I tell you what.

Who's driving this zoo train anyway?

 Spring is a welcome diversion, for all it's caprice.  On the less moody days I try to kick all the crazy people outside for a few hours.  (On wintery days Sir O is obsessed with the Super Mario Brothers Super Show.  And, wow.) I play catch-up if Bunny will stay content or asleep for a spell, and I clean like crazy.  I wonder if I get points in the next life for all the prosaic tasks I complete in this life that are instantly undone?

But other than the boys' bathroom I keep things in a state of nearly-under-control and I grasp at a balance of motherly duties and feeling like I ought to be studying for the GRE instead.  Even though everyone concedes that the only thing the GRE actually measures is how well you take the GRE, the scope of it makes me panic.

crazy cakes

This child - wow.

If anyone needs a laugh, this is the direction to head.  If Sir O has an oversized cantankerous personality, then our Gentleman has an oversized sanguine one.  He always has his head up, his ears perked, and he doesn't miss a trick.  He still thinks using verbal language is unneccessary, he communicates so well without it, but he's figuring out that if he gives it a go anyway, we are quick to reward his efforts.  And everything he says starts with "Maaaaaeeeehh".

"Maaaeeehh..breakfast?"
"Maaeeeehh...drink?"
"Maaaeeehh...outside?"
"Maaaeeehh..popsicle?"

I cannot lie, it's both funny and cute.  As is his insistence on doing summersaults and teaching himself to pedal our tricycle.  He's not about to get left behind by his brothers in anything.

But he still breaks into alligator tears over the slightest implication he's been naughty.  (Though he is naughty, and fairly often.)  And he wants to say every prayer, every time, with different helpers.  He closes his eyes, and bows his head and folds his arms, then peeks through his eyelashes and tilts his head back to be able to watch us all while he prays.

This kid knows he's hilarious.  It's dangerous.  He's still got everybody wrapped around his little finger, he doesn't need to stay the youngest for that (he's even Bunny's favorite, I'm fairly certain).  He cries everytime anybody leaves the house without him.  From his dad to his speech teacher.

We're crazy about him, still.