The Dish from Trish

Up and running!

2010-05-15T15:30:00.005-04:00

You know that scene in The Jerk where Navin has a cow because the new phone book arrives?

"The new phone book is here! The new phone book is here!" he shouts, holding the yellow pages over his head in triumph and joy.

That's how I feel.

My new web site is up! My new web site is up!

http://www.thedishfromtrish.com/

Things are going to start happening to me now.

Please come over and check it out. Your opinion of how it looks is so important. Your ideas on articles to write, recipes to post, projects to detail are all super-important to me. I need you desperately. You're like the focus group. The inner circle. The Mod Squad.

Please update your links and check in on the new site frequently. I'm sure I'll encounter some glitches as part of the learning process, but I'm hoping to make it a fun place to visit for all you gals (and lots of new gals, too). See you there!

http://www.thedishfromtrish.com/

Ole!

2010-05-05T20:27:00.003-04:00

Happy Cinco De Mayo!

This and that

2010-05-04T22:25:00.001-04:00

Would you even believe me if I said I've been blogging like crazy, but it's on a secret new blog that no one but me and my older Bro can see? And all of my creative juices are squeezed into this now project which is leaving me a pulpy, sour mess? (In this metaphor, I am a lemon). And that as the previous pathetic metaphor shows, I am completely bereft of any coherent thought that I feel is worthy of appearing on this blog, even if I had the time (which I don't) to write it?

Yes, you would believe it - because you're cool like that.

Fear not, those of you who still check in from time to time to see how I'm faring (Chrissy and Ann... that would be you): Launch Day is perhaps only a few hours away at this point.

No, seriously - I wasn't kidding about the new website, like, 100 years ago when I first brought it up.

I am still trying to find time to take pictures and make the damn food that goes along with my recipes and get them posted ahead of time, but that would mean having my entire menu written and prepared a month in advance, and I gotta tell you... it's been pretty tough to get it done a week after the fact. How I'm going to make up a five week differential is beyond me, but I think it would make the site so much better. Everyone hearts pictures, you know?

And on to another problem - my best friend, Allison, who has been something of a reviewer and sample audience for the project so far, has labeled my photography skills as... how did she put it ... grotesque and amateurish. Now, while I'll argue on the grotesque part, yeah - I'm totally amateurish. Working with a POS camera. So... maybe my next self-indulgent purchase should be a nice camera. And then a class on how to use it.

Other than that, let's see what I've got going on. Hey - I'm pregnant! Yup. And quickly approaching 20 weeks. Can you believe how fast that went by? It's been pretty much the dream pregnancy, with no real sickness or fatigue (only that which is brought on by chasing after a 2 1/2 year-old) and only in the past few days the emergence of an undeniable baby belly. I had a bump for a while, but was still able to wear my clothes. Now, I'm fully kicking the maternity gear.

Speaking of kicking, the Babe is making his or her presence known. I've been feeling them pretty regularly since about 15 1/2 weeks, which is early, compared to most. But it's nice. I am very happy to have that old familiar feeling back.

We're going to shoot for the same type of delivery as last time: Bradley Birth, no drugs, working at my own pace with a midwife. This time, I'm having a doula, which is exciting and well... nerve-wracking, too. The doula is my friend since high school, Sarah, and she's a doula in training. So, we are helping her by volunteering to be one of her "practice" births and she's helping us by assisting in our birth. Lee is skeptical. I'm glad I can help. But also... really? Like, I'm having an audience at my birth? What? Craziness. But, these are the things I do for my girlfriends: Throw parties; lend clothing; birth babies.

As an aside: Would anyone like to comment on how I've begun typing exactly the way I talk, and that I talk just like a 14-year-old Valley Girl? When did this happen to me? Brain cells... dwindling...

So, yes - a lot of exciting things coming up. I have a ton of stuff on my calendar to check off, as well as other stuff in the pipeline. I'm looking for some good crewel projects so I can fine-tune my needlepoint. I'm thinking I need to find some plain linen bags, the size and shape of the reusable grocery bags I habitually forget to bring with me to ShopRite, so that I can embroider them. I think I would use them more if they were cute. Right now, the brown ones I have are ugly and boring and make it out of my car about 1 out of every 3 trips to the store. But hand-embroidered shopping bags? Now that sounds like something I'd remember to bring with me to the farmer's market!

My first rant in a while

2010-05-02T14:53:00.003-04:00

I am seething right now.

I love it how these so-called liberals can be so judgmental and accusatory, but God forbid you let it slip you're a conservative. The automatic accusation: You're a racist.

Ironic, though, how the first people to name-call, intimidate and exclude are always these so-called liberals. They've got time for everyone - except people who are different from them. Even better - how they completely miss their obvious bigotry.

It's a good thing I have a sense of humor.

Love, Actually

2010-03-07T18:07:00.003-05:00

There's a scene in one of my favorite movies where Mark, the love-lorn art dealer, shows up unexpectedly at the doorstep of the object of his affection, Juliet. He holds up a sign that says, "To me, you are perfect."

If spiedini and pasta with butter and sage lived in a trendy London flat and recently discovered to its befuddlement and then sympathetic horror the true nature of my feelings, I would still gladly fly across the Atlantic and express my adoration for it in exactly the same way Mark did.

Guess what's for dinner tonight? The aroma of sage and bacon is wafting, wafting from my oven and to me, it is perfect.

A few tasty appetizer recipes

2010-03-02T21:09:00.003-05:00

Maria asked me to post my recipes for two of my go-to appetizers, which I recently made for my mom's annual surprise birthday party. (Seriously - she has one every year.)

The first is easy-peasy and is always a hit with the guys. It's really great football food.

Sausage, pepper and onion bites with marinara dipping sauce

1 - 1.5 lbs Italian sausage (I buy a pack that's 2/3 sweet, 1/3 hot)
3 red bell peppers
1 large yellow onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 c balsamic vinegar
1 jar of your favorite marinara sauce
toothpicks
olive oil, salt and pepper
(red pepper flake is optional)

Place your sausages in a non-stick saute pan and add enough water to make it about an inch deep, so the sausage are half-submerged. Pierce the sausage casings. Cook over medium-low heat, turning them occasionally until they are firm. Drain off any remaining water and slice the sausages, slightly on the bias into coin shapes about 1/4 inch thick. I get about 9 slices from 1 link. Keep a rough idea of how many pieces you get.

Return sausage to the pan with the olive oil and continue cooking, allowing them to brown slightly. Meanwhile, begin cutting your peppers into square pieces roughly the same size (or slightly smaller) than the sausage coins. You want to get as many or more pieces of pepper as you have sausage. Same for the onion. This may be slightly more difficult because of the layers within the onion, but don't fret if you have a lot of tiny onion pieces when you're done (use them for the sauce).

When your sausage is done, remove it from the pan and drain on a paper towel. Add the peppers and onions and stir. After about 2 minutes, add the garlic. Continue cooking until the peppers are slightly soft, but not mushy. Remove from heat.

Begin making your bites by spearing a piece of onion, followed by a pepper, followed by a sausage. Continue until you run out of sausage.

Return any unused peppers and onions to the heat and add the balsamic vinegar once the pan is hot. Deglaze the pan. Let the vinegar reduce, then add your sauce and stir it well. You may add your red pepper flake to the sauce at this point.

Serve on a platter with the sauce on the side for dipping.

And the second is:

Caramelized onion and goat cheese pizzettes

They are the easiest things:
Pillsbury pizza dough, cut into circles
1 box Boursin garlic and chive cheese, at room temperature
5 oz. goat cheese, at room temperature
1 bunch thyme, split in half
2 large sweet (Vidalia) onions cut into quarters, then sliced thin
2 tbspns butter and oil for sauteeing
Salt and pepper

Bake your dough circles on 400 for 6 minutes on a greased, dark pan. Remove from the pan and cool, bottom-side up.

Melt the butter and oil in a saute pan; add your thinly sliced onions and 1/2 of your bunch of thyme, tied together so you can pull it out once all of the leaves fall off. Add salt and pepper. Saute over medium low heat until onions are golden brown - about 40 minutes.

Remove about 3 tbspns of the cooked onions and mince them.

Mix your two types of cheeses, the leaves of the rest of the thyme and the minced sauteed onions. Spread about 2 teaspns of the cheese mixture on the dough circle - the side that was on your cookie sheet (it will be browner than the top). Add a touch of thecaramelized onions. Reheat before serving.

Anniversary plans

2010-02-19T20:34:00.004-05:00

Chrissy’s fantastically awesome, woe-is-me Facebook post* got me thinking about my own five-year anniversary.

What will I be doing for our five-year, which will be this September 17^th, less than seven short months away?

One of two things:

Option 1: I will be so gigantically, hugely large that the extent of my day will be spent beached on my sofa, propped on my left side, watching the montage portions of my wedding video while Lee rubs my giant Flintstone feet and Cameron pounds on my belly saying, “Come out, Baby!” as he has done the past two nights.

Option 2: I will be so thoroughly, bone-crushingly exhausted from a very recent labor that I will be beached on my sofa, a tiny newborn attached to my boob and a spazzy 2-year old demanding, “hair down, Mommy!” because I will undoubtedly have my ratty, unwashed locks tied up in a pony for, like, three days running. And Cam hates it when my hair is in a ponytail.

So, did you guess, as Chrissy, she of the slightly-less-awesome-than-she-wanted-but-still-way-better-than-any-trip-I’ve-ever-taken-vacation did? Yup. I’m pregnant.

Surprise! Surprise to everyone – including me and Lee! Yay!

I’m due September 27^th. I took a test the day after getting back from Miami at Lee’s insistence and it was positive. Total shocker. I mean, it shouldn’t have been – the nuns warned me this could happen. But still… we planned every aspect of Cameron’s conception, to have it just happen without six-months of preparations behind it is just miraculous. I’ve been to see my midwife once, at 6 weeks, and while she couldn’t find a heartbeat, she said that it was still too early and that I shouldn’t be alarmed. So I went for an HCG test, and the results indicate that I am undoubtedly pregnant.

Wow.

I’ve told my boss and coworkers, parents and siblings, but no one else. So if you see me on Facebook, please don’t spill the beans. I want to wait until after my next appointment on March 5 before announcing to everyone else.

OHMYGOSH! We have a secret, bloggy secret! We should come up with a code word for it.

*In case you are not FB friends with Chrissy, her status was, “really wanted to go to Tahiti for our five-year anniversary, but I guess the Dominican Republic, Jamaica or some other Caribbean island will have to suffice.” Can we all join together in a moment of silence to express our support for Chrissy, who is such a trooper for bravely enduring a trip to the Caribbean for her anniversary? Your strength in the face of such adversity is an inspiration.

Lax

2010-02-06T13:10:00.002-05:00

Laaaaax. I am so lax. Where I have I been? Right here, I tell you. Lolly-gagging around (emphasis on the gagging part).

Would you believe I forgot to bring my camera to my own kid's birthday party? After all that stress and planning and list-making? Walked out the door without the fricking camera. OWS had hers, and she sent me pictures via Kodak or some such website nonsense, and I have no idea how to download them without paying for them. Another mind-numbingly boring project to accomplish. Deeeep sigh.

Do I sound like Eeyore to anyone else? Woe is me, I tell you.

Proof is in the pudding

2010-01-24T15:27:00.005-05:00

I've chosen 65 recipes - most of which I've posted here on my blog at some point in the past 4 years - for inclusion in my first cookbook. I'm working my way through the editing process now, translating them from posts with rambling commentary into functional recipes, but it's taking some time. Apparently (and correct me if I'm wrong) I tend to babble a bit.

Anyway... since this is going to be a cook book - with recipes intended to help, rather than a blog, intended to entertain - I am paranoid that I've estimated too much in the instructions. You know what I mean: Directives like "add about a cup or so of wine" can give the casual reader an idea of what I've done, but sends the chef using a new recipe into a panic.

So, in the spirit of Julie & Julia, a film I have not seen but kinda get a good feeling about from the commercials, I shall cook all of my own recipes in an exercise to see if they actually work.

As I work, I'll tweak the info I have, humbly 'fess up any major misstatements or oversights, and format the cookbook so that, at the end of it all, I have a book worthy of recommending to you.

2010-01-21T17:19:00.003-05:00

I am siting here by the pool of the Conrad Hotel in Miami bitchily comparing it to the InterContinental - the hotel I stayed at the last time I was in Miami, and where the conference I'm attending is being held. And really, the complaints I'm coming up with are laughable when you consider 24 hours from now, I'll be well on my way back to the slushy, frigid, blackhearted state of New Jersey. I mean, really. Here's what I'm thinking:

The rooftop pool of this hotel is only 5 stories up. I'm surrounded by high-rises and can't see the bay. And there is no bar up here. Do they want me to die of dehydration?

I see no outlets. My battery is going to run out of power and I can't charge up. And since I had to take three elevator trips, cross through the taxi stand and follow the scent of chlorine to find it, I really am bummed I'll have to cut my pool-side lounging short.

There is no Cuban food on the room-service menu. Seriously, what the hell? I'm in a seminar all day, working all night, and in town alone. I can't go out exploring. I need to eat here. Can I please have a food experience? Smoked salmon with cucumber salad - in Miami? For reals? I don't think so. Find me some churrasco and chimichurri, stat.

No one has wished me "buenos dias." Seriously. When I come to Miami I want some handsome, smiling, tanned and charming young Cuban lad to wish me a fricking buenos dias. It's Miami. I'm not going to be offended. Tell the dude opening the door to wish me a buenos dias already.

Gripes aside, this little business trip has given me some time to work on my various projects, including transcribing some recipes from my old Nest blog into a document for a cookbook, and of course, planning more details of Cam's birthday party.

Girls - I gotta tell you - the place I booked was the least expensive venue I could find. And with a house as teenie-tiny as mine, I needed to have it ... someplace else. I have three rooms, two staircases and one wild dingo to contend with. Twenty-five toddlers and their parents would just not fit. Plus, with it being January, it's just too cold to do anything outdoors. I am cringing at the total, but all in all, it's probably pretty close to what I would spend to feed and entertain that many kids and adults, anyway, so, it's worth it.

I am going to take off from work the day before the party so I can bake the cupcakes and assemble some kind of grab bag. I don't know what I'm going to put in the bags yet, but I know what I'm not going to have - Play-Doh. Someone gave it to Cam, and I immediately confiscated it. We don't even have carpets in our house, but thats just a road I won't go down. What a mess that stuff makes!

Buenos dias, ladies! Hope your evening is as restful as mine is going to be!

In deep

2010-01-12T19:03:00.003-05:00

I wouldn't say I've succumbed to peer pressure... but perhaps I've been influenced by it. Peer pressure, a little bit of mommy guilt, a smattering of financial retribution and a healthy dose of joie de vivre. I am throwing Cameron a birthday party. And not the same kind I did last year, with 35 sombrero-sporting family members and friends packed into a tiny house, each with a taco in one hand and a maraca in another. We're taking the show on the road this year and we're going to Crazy Kid Zone Fun Time-nasium! And I'm inviting an ever-growing list of Cameron's peers. "How many peers can a 2-year old have?" You may ask. Costing over 300 bones for the first 15 and 20 bucks a pop there after, the answer, my friend, is way too many.

Here's the deal:

I invited Cameron's classmates. However, the week before Christmas, he graduated out of Toddlers and moved into Get Set. Which means, the kids (and parents) he (and I) palled around with all year were suddenly not in the same circle. I considered it just way too early in Cam's social experience to only invite some kids from his new class and some kids from the old (leaving out others, which is a life-long traumatizing experience. Believe me - I know. I'm looking at you, Erin Handforth), so the whole new class got invited. But, his best buddies from the previous class got invites, too. (Total: 20 kids.) Then, we figured we should include my parents because they'd been asking about whether we were staging another mid-winter fiesta, and along with my parents comes my brothers and sister. And while I highly doubt you'll be seeing OWS navigate the fun maze or do somersaults into the ball pit, her kids - ages 7 and 9 - may very well do it. So now we're plus 2. Add in Axe, my nephew who's a month older than Cam, and now we're at 23. Then, last Saturday we had a birthday party for our four-year old neighbor at the highly traumatizing Chuck E. Cheese and Bam - Now we're at 24 and FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY - where do you draw the line?

This four-year-old has a nine year old brother. Do I invite him? My nine-year old nephew will be there, so... yes? 25. Now I am $550 deep and we haven't even gotten to cupcake towers, grab bags and parent pizza yet. I am having a heart attack.

Did I ever share this?

2010-01-09T17:14:00.005-05:00

Cuteness, right?

I gave all of Cam's teachers, my boss, Lee's boss and his direct report the same thing: soft, luxurious, brightly colored scarves and a little tube of L'Occitane Honey & Lemon Balm tied with a ribbon.

(Making fun of Martha reminded me of how I very lamely arranged them in a basket and took a picture.)

The scarves were on sale from Wisteria (5 for $29) and the hand cream was on sale at L'Occitane ($3 ea.). Came out to about $10 a gift. Super cool, and not cheesy at all.

Oh, and while I'm at it - Here is the post I said would come from Chrissie, she of the Pumpkin Roll. Read her (raving) review then make the pumpkin roll - for Super Bowl, perhaps.

Also, she is an amazing entrepreneur and and also a blogger. She's motivating and awesome. Check her out (during Super Bowl, perhaps).

I am HERE! Here to attest that the pumpkin roll is a real live legit - and sinfully delicious - treat. So much so that I made it twice! Twice within a week!

First, I had to make it for myself. Of course, licking the remains of the filling out of the bowl, I realized it couldn't stay for long. I had to snack on it for a day and then get it out of my sight (the last 3-5 pounds of first trimester weight - slow to come on, slow to come off). So I wrapped it up and took it to my Stitch n Bitch holiday party this past Tuesday and the ladies there gobbled it! There might have been a slice or two that remained.

Pumpkin Roll #2 I made in a jiffy last night for my organization's holiday par-tay. It went smoother - I didn't have to look at the recipe and read each line 20 times! The few folks that ate it loved it but it seemed lost in a sea of desserts there (silly colleagues - hello? Skip the boring cookie and eat this yummy pumpkin roll!).

I made a pie a few years back (a Huckleberry Pie - who knew, right? I thought it was a character from Strawberry Shortcake but in the West there really are huckleberries. I had mine imported from Montana that year!)...Anyway, tangent. Back to the story. I don't enjoy making pies. Moreover they are a PITA to slice. I'm usually baking cookies but this year I wanted to try something new. So I went to the Source. I remembered Trish making Sarah's wedding cake (our hippie friend) and gasp - with FONDANT! I mean, seriously? Only Martha does that. And fabulous caterers that you pay crazy amounts of money to have your cake's icing looking like that. I was blown away. Not only did it look amazing but it tasted like heaven. So in my hour of need, I called on Trish. And the girl did not let me down.

This roll is pretty easy - and I'm by no means Martha in the kitchen. I didn't use the wax paper only b/c we don't ever have it in the house. I just greased my jelly roll pan really well. I'm still not sure what a tea cloth is but I've used some light weight dish cloths to roll it and it seemed to work. My only thought in doing this (again) next week is to spread the filling on the bottom side of the pumpkin cake. I've loosened the cake from the jelly roll pan and flipped it onto the cloth and then spread the filling onto it. I notice when I roll it that it tends to crack a tad. It's fine once it's refrigerated but I am wondering if the opposite side (the side that faces you when you take it out of the oven) would hold up better.

Anyway, it's fabulous and I suspect it'll go over so well, particularly on the Italian side of my family that I'll be asked about it again.

See? They work! The recipes work! Try, try!

Bigger and better things

2010-01-07T18:10:00.002-05:00

Glad I got that out of my system!

On to bigger and better things: I’ve been working double-time generating content for my new website. I am pretty stoked at how it’s coming together, although, admittedly, I haven’t seen a thing yet!

One of the features I’m most excited about is the monthly calendar, a la Martha Stewart. I haven’t subscribed to her magazine in maybe a decade, but way back when I got it, there was Martha’s Calendar on the first page – all of her planned activities for the month. And it was great because of how organized she was, but it was awesome because of how preposterous her activities were.

I give you an example*:

August 1 – Purchase cranberries from local bog for drying. Will be used in Christmas wreath gifts for underlings at Martha Stewart Omnimedia Corp. Wash and dry cranberries, then leave them out in the sun to dry on the willow branch produce drying racks I made last October.

August 3 – Take Simba and Nala, my pomeranians, to the groomer for their blow-out, style and doggie manicures.

August 5 – Invite 10 friends for a “Grill your own cut of Kobe Beef” party next Friday.

August 7 – Shake willow branch produce drying racks, so as to ensure cranberries are drying evenly. Discard any cranberries that look less than perfect.

August 10 – Harvest heirloom tomatoes from my 3-acre multi-species garden, and blanche the tomatoes in preparation for canning and jarring. Prepare 20 pint-size jars of grandmother’s tomato-gooseberry chutney; decorate each jar with gingham ribbon; display the jars artfully in a basket; enjoy a leisurely stroll through East Hampton, delivering the chutney to all of my fabulously wealthy neighbors.

And so forth.

I am so excited to be equally organized, if somewhat less ~~pretentious~~ glamorous.

At this stage, my calendar consists mostly of what I have planned for dinner with links to the recipes, in case you’re interested. Ultimately, I plan to also include a weekly grocery list to aid readers interested in cooking along at home.

I am also going to document the saga of trying to get my children’s book published! The copy is written, but the illustrations aren’t yet begun. My older bro, Drew, is going to handle that portion, but since he’s currently swamped with his own real job, a tiny monster of his own, a pregnant wifey and this annoying web design project his sister bullied him into (ahem… blushing over here), the book is pushed to the back burner.

No worries, though – it just gives me time to review and edit and agonize.

I can’t wait to share that project with you, though. I think it’s really adorable, if I do say so myself, and I have high hopes that the book, when finished, will be irresistible to publishers, moms and little kids alike!

I should have some screen shots of the new layout soon. I’ll be sure to post them as soon as my Bro sends them over.

*Total fabrication. But also eerily similar.

The conclusion

2010-01-04T21:11:00.003-05:00

"This isn't about you, it's about me. Why don't you ever think about anyone else? All you care about is yourself. That's what this is about! Why don't you care that you are upsetting me?"

So, like that, they were gone. I think. I'm pretty sure there was more shouting, but I was so bugged out, I couldn't even tell you what was said.

As it turns out, the whole time I was upstairs, Lee and his mother were having at it. She was giving him what-for about me: Basically, how I am not gracious enough when they come over (Puh-leeze. Dinner Twice a week for seven months; home-made snacks and cocktails galore; play-time with their grandson at their every whim; never imposing for baby-sitting services; sweet thank you notes mailed to them... gimme a break) and often run for the hills at their presence, and how we took advantage of them, working them like dogs on our house projects. Plus, if we hadn't bought a new TV and sofa for our family room, we would not only be able to buy our son more Christmas presents, but we would be able to pay them back the money they loaned us when we came up short on our closing costs when we bought our house ($4K).

Considering that every time we made a payment to them, we were assured there was no rush, it's pretty crummy of her to throw the balance of our debt back in our faces. And not to mention, I don't want to buy my son MORE gifts. I was OK with what i got him, I just didn't want him expecting to be inundated with presents. To me, a perfect Christmas isn't defined by the number of packages under our tree - but to her, that's it. Her selfish, materialistic heart couldn't recognize that.

Also - my FIL was chomping at the bit to get out of their crash-pad for the specific reason that they were being treated like live-in nannies over there. He assured us over and over that he loved helping us refinish our steps and paint our downstairs living room. He even came over when we weren't home to putter around, just to get out of the place they were staying. So I call bull-shit on that.

But the best part was the total release of all of her pent-up rage and dislike for me spilling out to Lee. Like the last time I realized that she truly didn't care for me, this was a confirmation of my suspicions. And as ugly as it got, it reassured me to trust my gut. When I smell a bad apple, I'm usually right.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you what set this whole thing off. As they walked in with all of these presents at 2 PM, while I was still prepping food, baking cookies, cleaning bathrooms, wrapping presents, packing overnight bags, stocking diaper bags and toy bags .... she says to me, "We better get started opening soon." And I said, "No, we're not opening presents right now." I wanted to be there this time - days earlier, when we had Cam's little birthday party - my ILs had Cam open all of his presents while I was downstairs socializing with guests and refilling drinks. Nice.

So... anyway, I'm digressing because there's JUST SO MUCH TO BITCH ABOUT: Lee and Gene made a quick trip out to the liquor store to buy more beer, and of course I was upstairs crying. But Lee and Gene came back sooner than the ILs expected and they caught them opening presents without us. That was what did it. Isn't it funny to pinpoint the straw that breaks the camel's back? All that nonsense for so many months, and catching them trying to sneak presents to our son is what made him blow. It sounds petty and selfish, but they just pushed us too many times; disregarded too many of our rules. And it ended badly.

So, that's it. Lee exchanged a few e-mail with his dad that evening and the next day, but they were terse. Basically, my FIL and Lee are trying to ensure their personal relationship (while strained) doesn't end due to me and MIL's mutual dislike for each other.

And I am at a loss for how to proceed. I mean, one of my biggest gripes about her is that she's so phony - pretending to like me (and a lot of other people) while internally she's criticizing and hating us. How do I then swallow my disdain for her without being as fake as she is? I obviously need to stand my ground, but I can't be a roadblock to Lee and his parents. Quite the dilemma.

And then ...

2010-01-01T15:12:00.002-05:00

It seems the whole time I was upstairs, my darling husband was defending my honor.

I walked into a shit-storm. Lee was at one end of our living room, his mother was half-way out the kitchen door. And, my friends, in our tiny house, that's as far away from each other as you can get. FIL and BIL were standing, befuddled, in between them.

Lee was highly agitated at this point and this is where I heard him say, "You do this every year. Every year you have to wreck Christmas. Three years on a row," and some other similar things, to the point of how she makes Christmas all about her, and what she wants and how she needs to make herself the center of attention, and so on and so forth. And, hilariously, I hear my father-in-law say, "I don't think anything happened last year..."

Lee summed it up with an assertive, "Why don't you just get the hell out? OK<>

And I'm all, "Whoah, whoah, whoah - let's not get hasty." And Lee responded, "Oh, no - they're leaving."

And this is where my previously held opinion that people who said things like, "It all happened so fast, I can't remember," were total BSers changed. I totally buy it now. Because this is where my recollection of things starts to get fuzzy.

Right after the whole, "three Christmases in a row" exchange, I got involved. You see, my MIL continued to shout at us about how she didn't ruin Christmas, we ruined it, and she did nothing wrong at any time. Lee was still telling her to get out, and she, I guess, tried to make a final parting shot with a really ugly, sarcastic taunt to me, "Well, I'm sorry if I ruined your Christmas," or something like that.

I still had my wits about me at that moment, so I calmly replied, "I can tell that you're being completely insincere and there's no place for your attitude here, so you can keep your apology. I can tell you don't mean it."

(Score one for me, keeping myself together in this maelstrom. Grace Kelly would be proud. Get ready to score ten for me, though, for going berserk in such dramatic fashion, I put Faye Dunaway to shame.

Somehow the shouting took a turn back to that fateful first Christmas in the house, when Cameron was born on the 22nd, the in-laws arrived from Florida on the 23rd, I came home from the hospital in the 24th and, well, you know how it went on the 25th. And Lee and I were saying how she had no regard for us as a new family, and insisted on playing out her perfect little Christmas at our house despite our obvious distractions, and how she ended up holding it against us for months that we didn't shower her with attention on that day.

Then she said those fateful words that set me off like dynamite. "What does having a baby have to do with anything?"

So, this is where I started shouting. "I had a dozen stitches in my vagina (I am 98% sure I said the word "vagina" in front of my father-in-law), hemorrhoids on my ass (I am 98% sure I said "ass" in front of my father-in-law) and just got out of the hospital, and you want to know what having a baby has to do with your fucking Christmas dinner?"

More fog, more scattered recollections... I have no idea at this point if this is even the right order things happened in, but then she started saying things like, "You want to blame everything on me, fine. It's all my fault. Everything is my fault," again, in a nasty, vicious, ugly way.

Ladies, I lost it. My eyes went wild, I think I was actually jumping in place as I said, "This isn't about you, it's about me. Why don't you ever think about anyone else? All you care about is yourself. That's what this is about! Why don't you care that you are upsetting me?"

So, like that, they were gone. I think. I'm pretty sure there was more shouting, but I was so bugged out, I couldn't even tell you what was said.

But wait, there's more.

Called it

2009-12-29T13:45:00.003-05:00

I told you something like this was going to go down, didn't I? And while none of you picked the over, some of you did think I would snap. Well, my dears... it wasn't my fault. I swear. It was all hers.

So, while I feel like I've been pretty much a good sport, tolerating her intrusiveness, complete disregard for my authority over my child and the rules of my house... I have been feel ing a bit frayed around the edges, if you know what I'm saying. After our Christmas Open House on the 19th, I think I started counting the days until December 26th - the ILs' planned departure day.

I thought I could make it. All I needed to do was get through Christmas Eve.

Well...

I'd told my MIL on three occasions to restrain herself regarding the number of Christmas presents she bough Cam. For a number of reasons, which I give to you in no particular order: We have a very small house and no place to store them; she buys cheaply made crap riddled with choking hazards; I am Cam's mother and his primary gift-giver and I don't want to be shown up by her on Christmas; he has a giant family, and everyone wants to give him gifts, and no one wants to feel inadequate compared to the volume of things she will throw at him; his birthday is Dec. 22 and he has already been inundated with presents; Christmas isn't about gifts to us, it's about spending time together, doing thoughtful things and remembering Jesus Christ and how he came into the world. You know - it's not about junk. Or presents. Or her, reveling in her pathetic attempt to recreate Christmas, 1987, when she was the star of the show.

So, I mentioned it two times I can distinctly recall, probably one other time. "Restrain yourself," I said. "Limit yourself to five or six things you think he'll really enjoy."

So when she, my FIL and BIL were making their FOURTH trip EACH out to the car on Christmas Eve, bringing in armloads of presents, I said, "That's a lot of stuff you've got there." She had the balls to say to me, "Don't get excited. They're mostly for Cam."

"That's the problem, " I replied, and promptly went upstairs to cry. For an hour. While I finished wrapping presents. Lee popped in three times. The first time to say that I was being ridiculous. After the last time he disregarded my feelings, I decided to not let this one lay. So, I replied that it wasn't the volume of presents, it was how she flagrantly put her wishes ahead of mine, and how she makes it a habit to disregard my wishes. Boom. He said he understood, but I she was almost 70, spoiled her whole life and wasn't about to change and I needed to get over it so it didn't spoil my day.

In dramatic fashion, I announced that my day was already ruined, and dissolved into tears again.

(Side note: That totally worked. In three minutes, I had a cocktail in my hand and the sworn word of my husband that he agreed with me and was mad, too. He said I should try to relax and he would take care of it, by asking his parents to take some of the gifts back.)

Eventually, I got in the shower, dried my hair, and was about to force a smile and reenter my living room, pushing my frustration and disgust to the back of my mind for one more night, when I walked into a shouting match.

It seems the whole time I was upstairs, my darling husband was defending my honor.

More later...

Macy's has nothing on this Christmas Eve Blowout

2009-12-24T21:51:00.004-05:00

Nothing says "Merry Christmas" quite like the words, "Why don't you just get the hell out of my house?"

Wouldn't you agree?

Fireworks, friends. Fire-fricking-works. I'm all jacked up because I can't even believe what happened here this afternoon. I am still in shock.

Luckily, Me, Lee and Cam are all tucked up in the house, the carrots and cookies are waiting by the fireplace and Cameron is slowly, slowly drifting off to sleep. So, in the grand scheme of things, all is calm. All is bright. And my parents aren't assholes, so I have that going for me.

More later.

A brief retrospective

2009-12-21T20:58:00.004-05:00

Two years ago tonight - this very moment, actually - I was finishing a piece of sea bass, which I now know is not sustainable (sorry, Rick Moonen), and laughing until it hurt.

It hurt enough, in fact, that I actually said to Lee as we left the restaurant, "You better hope this dinner doesn't put me into labor. I already think I had a contraction."

When we got home, I promptly returned that sea bass to the ecosystem, much to my dismay. "This better not be food poisoning," I thought. It wasn't.

That little bugger is going to be two in 19 hours and 40 minutes. I can't believe it.

An early Christmas present. That's what he is.

Caramel and Chocolate-Covered Pretzel Rods

2009-12-20T21:10:00.007-05:00

Here's an easy treat for the holidays. I banged out six dozen of these in about an hour and a half, and they are so delicious!

I bought a tub of Herr's pretzel rods - they are all perfect, no broken ones, like in a bag - and broke three dozen in half.

In a double boiler, I melted a bag of individually wrapped caramel squares. All told, it was maybe 6 dozen. I added just shy of a quarter cup of milk, a splash at a time, to loosen the caramel as it melted. I stirred vigorously the whole time.

Once it was smooth and very gooey, I dipped in the pretzel rods - broken end into the caramel - and coated it with a spoon, leaving about an inch uncovered to act as a handle. I let them sit on parchment paper that I'd oiled well with Crisco.

I let them cool completely before even thinking about moving them. They came off the paper really easily, the caramel having pooled a little around the pretzel, so it almost looked like a lollypop.

Then I used the double boiler method with chocolate chips, but without the milk. Just melted the chocolate.

Dipped them again. Then, before the chocolate set, I sprinkled some of them with red and green M&Ms that I'd smashed into little pieces. Some I drizzled with white chocolate. Then I stuck the whole tray in the freezer to set them up.

"Waaa-Laaa" as they say.

I intended to dye the white chocolate red and green, but when I added the dye, the chocolate seized up and hardened into a ball that I couldn't re-melt. So, I caution you to test that out first, if you're tempted to add some color.

No bake, no butter, no measuring...

A real, live testimonial (With a little update)

2009-12-14T20:28:00.010-05:00

Someone who is neither an official Blogging Lady/Former Nestie, nor a paid spokesperson is willing to attest that my frankensteined recipes work!

My girlfriend, Chrissie (no, not that Chrissy) - who is quite the accomplished baker, crafter, entrepreneur and mom extraordinaire, herself - made my Pumpkin Roll recipe... and she loved it. I was so tickled that my recipe worked out for someone that I asked her to chime in here and sing my praises. She agreed, so now I'm like a high school sophomore with a crush, obsessively checking my messages to see if she's contacted me yet.

As I've said too many times to link here, I will go to great lengths to avoid making pie crust. But fall = pumpkins to me, so I needed to find an alternative to pumpkin pie. But, Pumpkin Roll is a tricky thing... I was totally skeptical of the process, as well as the ingredient list, when this recipe first crossed my recipe box. I tweaked it right off the bat, adding more of the good stuff and holding my breath and pushing through the ookie part.* In the end... pure pumpkin bliss. You must try it before the holidays are over. Here is the recipe as I gave it to Chrissie:

3 eggs
1 cup sugar
2/3 cup pumpkin
1 teaspoon lemon juice
3/4 cup AP flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
(These are the measurements I have written down, but I always add more ginger and nutmeg. I heart them. I've also been known to splash in some vanilla extract. First time was by accident, but it's gone in every time since.)
.
Filling:
8 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
4 tablespoons butter
1 cup powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
(Again, I think I double the extract. And once I added hazelnut abstract instead of vanilla, and it was really good, too.)

Preparation:
Combine the sugar with the eggs, one at a time, beating with a mixer until thick and pale yellow in color. Add the pumpkin and lemon juice and mix until fully incorporated.

In separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder, spices and salt. Add the dry stuff to the egg mixture in thirds, mixing well. Spread batter into greased and waxed-paper lined 10-by-15-inch jelly-roll pan.

Bake at 350 ° for 15 minutes. Remove from oven. Cool for 15 minutes. Place cake on clean tea towel sprinkled liberally with powdered sugar. Cool 10 minutes longer. From 10-inch side, roll cake up in towel.* Set aside.

(I'll be honest, this rarely goes well on the first try, but you just have to get over the whole "lint" phobia and just do it.)

While cake is cooling in towel, make the filling: Beat together cream cheese and butter; add the powdered sugar and extract and blend until smooth.

Unroll the cake. Evenly spread filling over cake. Roll up cake (without the towel). Wrap in plastic wrap. Cover and chill at least 1 hour. Slice before serving. Keep leftover slices refrigerated. This freezes really well, if you want to make it in advance.

*Are you with me? Rolling the cake up in a towel sounds gross, right? But you have to do it, or else the cake won't roll up with the frosting.

Also, is it totally weird that my link to Chrissie showed up as a link, but my link to Chrissy did not? Nor my link to the Great ER Trip of 2008. I mean, the links work, they just don't look like links. Deep sigh. My Blogger days are numbered. Soon I'll have a real, live Web Master to direct these code-related questions to. Yay!

GIRLS! It's like Christmas Eve, tracking Santa's progress. Chrissie commented on a post of mine in November. She must be making her way through the blog! She could be here any time! YAY! And also, Chrissie blogs, too! Check her out: http://londonmodgirl.blogspot.com/

Christmas card pictures

2009-12-09T08:32:00.007-05:00

Cam obliged and sat for a little photo shoot for me night before last. I wish I had a better camera, because some of these really could have been put-it-in-a-frame, hang-it-on-the-wall worthy.

Back in time

2009-12-01T07:36:00.007-05:00

I don't think I ever posted the Halloween pictures - which is a shame because the kid is just so stinkin' cute. Here's Cam hitting the pumpkin patch, showing off not only a couple of little jacks, but also his big muscles.

And then we found this pumpkin with a dent in it that was just perfect for a little guy to sit on:
And finally, after much searching, Camo found this perfect pumpkin: lovely color, perfect shape and easily hefted overhead in triumph.
Cam was a triceratops for Halloween. Here he is with a Jedi Knight at his daycare.
Family shot - with a tired dino - after the parade.
Some of the class-members, including one very sad giraffe, await their turn on the parade route.
Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving, and are still feasting off your left-overs!

With a bellow of trumpets and much fanfare

2009-11-23T21:23:00.006-05:00

... well, maybe not so much. But I'm official unprivatized. Getting ready for the big jump back to the great big interweb. May as well ease on back into the whole "Anybody can read this thing, right?" mentality. So I should probably stop complaining about my mother-in-law.

How's the weather over by you?

Got big jump on the Christmas shopping.

Brett Favre is so handsome, agreed?

OK - I can't do it! One more. Just one more, then I'll have to go back to internalizing about her. OK - First I think you are all very sweet and rational, and your opinions are all so valuable to me. I really love that you all give it to me straight - whether you're equally indignant over her actions or bemused by my rage. The thing is... she can do nothing right by me. I know that. You know that. The window on her and I getting along all chummy-like closed when she belittled me for not having Christmas presents wrapped for her under my tree, three days after my son was born. It just isn't ever going to be right. So, I know - my complaint about her in the link I posted was that she didn't do anything to help me out in the days after Cam was born, and now I'm complaining that she's doing all of the things I wanted her to do back then. Well, too late, sister. Until further notice, my vinegar spray bottles, brooms and brushes will all reside in my bedroom closet, wrapped in a bathrobe, far from your meddling hands. Get a crossword puzzle if you're bored; keep your hands off my stove grease!

Back to my previously scheduled post.

Cam had his first day care birthday party on Saturday. One of his best buds, Marcus, turned two and all of the kids from their class, along with some of his buddy's family and other friends, partied down at a kids' gym near our house. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen - music, bubbles, dancing, puppet shows, a ball pit, pizza, cake, juice boxes, more cake... it was insanity for an hour and a half. Cam had a wonderful time ... until 10:30 that night, when the barfing started. Everywhere - his crib, our bed, the kitchen floor, our bed again, the bathroom... he was like Regan in The Exorcist. A kiddie-sized zip-line, trapeze and buttercream frosting do not a happy tummy make. Duly noted. All told, this birthday party cost me $53 and seven loads of laundry. But the pictures are priceless.

So, yeah. This kid turns two, and even though I have a two-year-old, I still had no idea what to get him. Do his parents only let him play with eco-friendly toys made of organic fibers and BPA-free recycled plastics? Does he love Thomas or Diego? Turns out, he prefers the convenience of gift cards. How mature of him. He will be redecorating his room in a Big Boy Sports theme, so he'd like gift cards to BRU. Nice. So, then I'm faced with this dilemma: She's totally going to know how much I spent, what with it being a gift card and all. So, I opted to get him three balls: soccer, football and basketball for $13 and a $40 gift card. This woman has two older kids and I know the Tooth Fairy leaves $10 under the pillows at that house, and I will not be shown up by some fictitious fairy, you know?

And then there is this phenomena that many day-care parents find themselves in: The Name Game. Now, Cam's been going to school since he was 10 weeks old. He's been with the same group of kids since they were infants, too. Schedules being what they are (schedules, after all) I see the same parents picking up the same kids day after day. And I get to know the kids names, because the teachers talk to them while I'm there, everything is labeled with each kid's name: artwork sippy cups, clothing, etc. But the parents ... not so much. We chat, comment on the kids, swap teething and diaper rash treatments and funny stories... but we never introduce ourselves. Between me and Lee, we call the parents "Mrs. Marcus," "Mr. Zoe," "Mrs. Cody" ... Mr. or Mrs whatever-the-kids-first-name-is.

But then the party invitations went out, and we all sort of got nervous. All the parents knew we were going to have to actually talk to each other, for an extended period of time - not just as we put our kids in their coats and hustled them out the door. And so it began. I started with Mrs. Cody as we passed each other in the hall. Cam and Cody are pretty tight. They are both full time and we arrive to pick them up at the same time, maybe 4 days a week. So, finally I bit the bullet and said, "I feel silly asking after all this time..." And she immediately knew what I was getting at. "I only know you as 'Cam's mom'" she said, laughing. So, we did the introductions. One down.

Next - the party hostess. Now, she and I have talked at length about having a play date (cringe - a topic for another day), getting together, how close the boys are (they really are) ... but I had not a clue what her name was. I'd never heard her say my name before, so I don't know for sure if she knew mine, but I figured, she seemed to be the type to get offended if I asked, so I went straight to the office and had the administrator look it up for me. Two down.

Next - Cam's girlfriend's mom. We talk about how they nap next to each other; Cam claims every morning that he dreams about her; they play in the toy kitchen together for hours; share snacks; kiss each other when they're sad. They are MFEO and we know it. Totally have no clue about Mrs. Zoe's name. So, at the party, I'm looking for my opening. Cam and Zoe were playing together for much of the party, then they sat next to each other for pizza. At one point, Zoe needed help with her juice box, so she handed it to me and said, "Cameron?" so I took it, laughing, and was like, "Sure Honey!" And I helped her out. Behind me I could hear Mrs. Zoe say to Mr. Zoe, "Did you hear that? I don't even know her name!" Bingo. So, I turned around and said, "That was funny. My name's 'Trish' by the way." And she laughed too, and said, "Oh, wow. I thought she knew your name."

Silence.

Crickets.

Dude, Mrs. Zoe, that was your chance! I set you up perfectly, and you took the pitch. That was your chance to say, "My name is WhateverHerNameIs."

So, I just kind of laughed it off, like "That would have been hilarious if she called me by my name," but really, I slumped in disappointment. So close! Now I'm going to have to ask in the office what Mrs. Zoe's name is and just hope that it doesn't get back to Mrs. Zoe that I'm a weird stalker.

Go ahead, tell me I'm ungrateful (and I'll give you the silent treatment for two days)

2009-11-19T07:26:00.003-05:00

So, we're entering the final stages of my in-laws stay in Jersey. They've been here since July; leaving two days after Christmas. So, by my calculations, that means they've outstayed their welcome by approximately five and a half months. After the whole debacle after Cameron was born and the subsequent two-year long stint of passive-aggressive bitchery on the part of my mother-in-law, I'd say that - up until about a week ago, this "visit" (can you call it a visit? They've been here for 5 months. It's more like their second migratory habitat) has gone surprisingly smooth. A few hiccups here and there, what with her encouraging him to stand at the top of the steps and race baseballs down the railing, insisting on leaving the house when I put him to bed for fear of hearing him cry and most recently, sitting idly by as she allowed him to jump on the sofa and fall off, face first, onto the floor. So, yeah. Mostly it's been OK. Especially since my father-in-law is extremely nice. And handy. Lee, you see, is not handy. So, several projects that have been eye sores around our house have been resolved, thanks to my FIL's gracious handyman skills.

As of late, however, he has had some company at our house during the day. Seems MIL is getting a little stir-crazy at the house where she is crashing. So, she's decided to join FIL at our place during the day. That's no bother: Make yourself comfortable. Have a cup of tea. Watch TV. sit out side and enjoy the fresh air. That stuff is fine.

You know what's not fine? Mopping my kitchen floors. Rearranging my counter tops. Scrubbing the gunk off of my stove.

I know. Some people pay to have their houses cleaned while they're at work. But, I choose not to. In fact, if it were that important to me, I would pay someone to do it. But, again, it's not.

What is important to me is being a good wife and mother, in addition to a financial contributor to our household. Spending quality time together; playing pretend, building forts, drawing pictures. It's important to me that my family eats delicious, nutritious meals together - at the table, every night. I make it a priority to have clean, pressed clothes for my family so they look tidy and smart when they walk out the door. All this in addition to a 50-our work week. Scrubbing the grease off of my stove is not a priority, so it doesn't get done often. Because if I did that, then I wouldn't be painting watercolors with Cam. It's not that I don't want a clean stove, it's that something has to give. I choose housework to be where I let go.

I've made this clear to my mother-in-law. In fact, saying those very words to her, "I can't do everything, so I choose to let the housework suffer - not my son." She did not take this as a hint. She took this as an invitation.

So, the other day, I said to Lee, as I cooked dinner, "I feel bad about saying this, but I really don't like that your mom cleaned the floor today. It makes me feel like she considers our house dirty." He said, "Wow. Couldn't you just be grateful?"

Note: Lee has never taken my side in any of these miscues with his mother, so I knew this was coming. Still, it pissed me off. And that was my cue to refrain from mentioning my feelings regarding this problem to him further, which made me even more mad at my MIL - for driving a wedge between me and Lee.

So, the night before last, as I chopped onions for our ill-fated risotto, I kind of started to cry. And it had nothing to do with the onions.

And the worst part was, I couldn't even say anything to Lee again because he'd already shown that he wasn't sensitive to my feelings about the whole thing.

So, here I sit, debating on what to do. I've already gathered up my vinegar and water spray bottles, the dust cloths and the broom and dust pan. They're sitting on the step. I'm thinking that I'll just stash them in my closet. I find that to be as passive-aggressive as her actions. But... really? That's what I've come to? Hiding cleaning supplies in my own house to keep my MIL from offending me by cleaning something I haven't gotten to yet? Am I nuts, or am I over-taxed with crazy in-laws?

This post is just screaming for bullet points...

2009-11-16T20:01:00.003-05:00

... but I can't figure out the formatting.

First - My Dino loved his too-tight costume and has officially names "ah-mi-ahms" (M&Ms to you and me) as his favorite candy. He'd never had "canny" before Halloween, and I'm still ruing his teachers for indulging the little monster, but seriously - five ah-mi-ahms every now and again won't rot the kid's teeth, and since he's still a no-juice kind of guy, I'm OK with an occasional sugar fix. I'll post some pictures soon, but Blogger is being difficult and I don't have time to fiddle. Dishes need to be washed!

Second - it's done! I seem to be working from the bottom up - rather than the top down - on my List of Big Things to Get Accomplished, but, hey, a completed task is a completed task, no matter when it gets done. I'll take it. I finished a little manuscript for a children's book! I am currently sweet-talking my brother into illustrating a few pages for me, so I have some images to send along to agents and publishers. he already said he couldn't do it, but I'm hoping a little sisterly guilt may change his mind. He's super-busy, what with designing my new web site and all!

Yup - I'm making the leap, as soon as my older bro and I can get a template we love and an editorial calendar composed. I'll be out in the big bad internet sans Blogger. I'm super-pumped.

I'm also finally getting all of my recipes catalogued, back from when we all lived on The Nest. I think I must have a couple hundred recipes that I've posted over the 4 years I've been blogging and never did I ever tag, print, store or otherwise organize any of them. I'm finally going to do that, too, so I have them all in one place.

I'm also making a pact with myself to be better about blogging, because I feel like Facebook has taken over my life. And FB is fun and great for the day-to-day chit chat type of stuff, but it's kind of hollow when it comes to real substance. And we're substance kind of girls, no?

Also - I'm very excited about the meet-up in June. I'm tentatively in, since Nashville is hell-and-gone from North Jersey and I'd have to fly and money for tickets, yada yada... but I am super-psyched at the prospect. It would be just me - no Lee or Cam - and I haven't had a solo adventure in years, so I really hope I can swing it.

Another update with some sad news: No Thanksmas this year. Time just sort of got away from me and with Thanksgiving, Christmas, Cam's birthday and my in-laws being in my house every blessed spare second, I just couldn't get it together. All is not lost, though. We may have it sort of recommissioned; its purpose rededicated from "All of the food, none of the family" to "Some of the food, and some of the family." Because, of course, my in-laws will be here (deep sigh) and just about everyone I know has a baby or toddler who can't be out until the wee hours like Thanksmas used to require. It'll be more of an open house; an all-day affair open to the neighbors, the family and some of the friends. I won't be roasting giant organic free-range turkey breasts this year, but maybe I'll make a crock pot of boozy cider and some prosciutto-provelone stuffing bites and call it a day. I'm thinking Dec 19th for all of this to go down, which is pretty much the worst day of the year to do that to people (last Saturday before Christmas is the official start of "Panic mode" in most households), but since it's so loosely planned, there is no need for anyone to stress. And that, as you'll recall, is the true meaning of Thanksmas.

Raise your hand if you've started Christmas or Hanukkah shopping. I have never started this early, but am happy to report I have several gifts already purchased. Not only do I have Christmas stuff for Cam to buy, but his second birthday is Dec. 22nd, so I have to make that a separate event. Plus, I have Christmas presents for my nieces and nephews - and three of their birthdays are Nov. 24, Nov. 28 and Nov. 30 - so it's double gifts for them, too.

Anyone else hearing "Walking on Sunshine" as they read this post? I think I've gone spastic.

And one more little tid-bit. So, my little bro is getting a divorce after an impressive 13-month marriage. Kudos, Dan. But, that aside... I don't know what to do about his soon-to-be-former-step-daughter. She's been a part of our family for three years. And her horrible, cheating, trashy mother aside, I feel terrible that this little girl, who is only nine years old, is not only losing my brother, who was the best thing that ever happened to her, but also my whole family - who treated her well, loved her and showered her with attention. I want to get her Christmas presents, but 1. Don't know how to get a hold of her terrible, cheating, trashy mother 2. Don't know if my gifts will even be given to her or thrown in the trash or 3. Want to be the one who tries to maintain contact with this kid, when her mother has already taken steps to remove her from our family. I mean, is it my place to do that? I feel like this kid is so screwed up and has so many abandonment issues as-is, that the loss of Dan and my family could cause a life-time of issues for this girl. I just want her to not go crazy and make all the same mistakes her mother has made. I don't know what to do. Ideas welcome, because I am truly at a loss.

She's here!

2009-10-31T19:33:00.002-04:00

Lucy McHale Boone, my oldest girlfriend, Sarah's, daughter, was born on October 29th (my birthday!) at 5:50. Lucy weights 7 lbs. 11.5 oz and is 21 inches long.

After 28 hours of arduous labor, as the dad, Rick, put it, Lucy made her debut!

Way to go Sarah, Rick and Baby Lucy. We can't wait to meet you.

Happy Halloween to you all - hope you get just as sweet a treat.

Nope. That's exactly what he meant.

2009-10-28T22:40:00.002-04:00

Duuuuude. What a day.

So, details tomorrow, but yes - the short-short version is he caught his wife in a bar... with a dude. Making out with a dude. So, it's over.

But...

In happier news: Sarah, my HS best friend, is in labor right now! And has been since 1 AM, so this girl is beat. But, since she's technically 18 days overdue (GASP! Yes - that's correct: her midwife calculated her due date as the 10th way back at the beginning of the pregnancy. Sarah calculated the 15th, but either way you slice it... that baby is late!) she is highly motivated to get this wrapped up. Happy, healthy, natural labor thoughts to my hippie friend, if you please!

I want the baby born now, but since tomorrow is my birthday, it would be cool to share the day with my BF's first born!

More Facebook woes

2009-10-28T08:08:00.003-04:00

Ummm... so my little bro's status is, "Just caught my wife cheating on me!!!!!"

Oh, dear.

I commented, "Is that a metaphor?" but now is probably no times for jokes.

This just keeps getting better.

Crisp and cool, like a fall day should be

2009-10-25T14:27:00.003-04:00

Perfect weather for pumpkin picking! We went to the pick-your-own pumpkin farm this afternoon. I just put Cam down for a nap, and as soon as I'm sure he's out, I'll upload the pictures. (He's currently shouting, "Need me! Need me!" in response to me saying, "Call me if you need me" when I left the room.)

Today is just screaming for being outside, sipping tea and umping in piles of leaves, but I think I'll have to be the spoil sport and finally force myself to swap out the summer clothes for winter. I'll still have the tea, though - with a lemon slice to make it even more heavenly!

Happy Sunday to you all - hope you have a great fall afternoon!

Dense

2009-10-24T10:37:00.002-04:00

Boobies: All clear.

The surgeon recommended she give me an ultrasound instead of a mammogram because I'm young and my breast tissue is so dense a mammo wouldn't really show anything readable anyway. That's what happened last time, too - I was nursing at the time and they didn't want to give me the mammo for that reason.

So, she did the ultrasound and other than some "lobules" (which I'm sure I'm spelling wrong) but are completely normal to have, she didn't find anything.

I have to go back in a month to get checked again, but I'm pretty confident in saying all is well with me and the girls.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. It's strange - I didn't tell anyone in "real life" but the first thing I did when I found out there was bad news, and then good news, is tell you all. You're the best.

Over it

2009-10-19T08:14:00.001-04:00

Eight-fifteen and I'm still in my jammies, cruising the blogs and watching the Today Show. Clearly, someone lacks the motivation to get ready for work.

Job has been a bummer lately.

Kind of like cheating

2009-10-16T20:23:00.002-04:00

... to talk about Facebook on your blog, right? But I just have to.

Because there's a whole unspoken Code of Conduct that I find so fascinating about that world. You either live by it or - gasp - violate it, and then become a pariah.

Today's topic: Those who cannot take a hint.

I'll be honest about this: I have had a friend request sitting in my little in-box for almost 6 months. It sits there because I have "ignored" it at least 10 times, yet this woman continues to send a request to me. Worst part - she's Lee's Aunt Mary. Family (albeit estranged, distant and completely unknown to me, minus one day in August three years ago when we met at a picnic) and I will not "Friend" her. Mostly just out of principle now, but also because I am not - nor have I ever been - her friend. FB for me is about connecting or reconnecting with people I would like to be friendly with now. All those people who I used to think, "I wonder what So-n-So is up to?" but never looked up in the phone book to chat up, for fear of looking like a stalker.

FB is a great way to reconnect. But if you get ignored, it's kind of a sign, right? A big, poster-board sized sign written in felt tip marker that reads, "Not Interested." Why go back to that well time and time again? How much rejection can one person take? And no one is immune: I had a friend request ignored once: A girl who sat in front of me in homeroom in high school. We were friendly in school and had a ton of friends in common - both in HS and on FB. I sent the request... and days later saw that I had no "friend request pending" to her. So, she ignored me. OK. No hurt feelings. But I certainly won't send her another request a month down the road, you know? As for this aunt... I mean, I repeatedly ignored her Friend Request. We both know it. She sent them almost a dozen times. She HAS to know I am ignoring her, right? And yes she keeps insisting that I be her friend. I find it rude. Passive-aggressively rude of her to keep foisting her Friend Request on me. I want her to knock it off.

Am I wrong? I can take it. Thoughts on FB friends?

At home

2009-10-09T15:48:00.003-04:00

Left work early due to general malaise. I had a gyn appointment this morning and my midwife found another lump in my left breast. I found one last December in rightie, had a sonogram, which determined that it was a fluid-filled cyst and promptly stopped worrying.

This time - since I'm not nursing anymore - I have to have a mammogram. Not psyched about this.

So, I went to work, sat there for 4 hours and then left. I went to Michael's, bought some stuff for the party tomorrow and am now home doing some party prep.

In other news: Drew, my older bro, is now fully aware of my blog and is - gasp - reading this RIGHT NOW! I would just like to remind you, Doo, that you are in the cone of silence and what is written on the blog, stays on the blog. Doctor-patient privilege and all that.

Frustrated

2009-10-04T14:20:00.002-04:00

First - one of my pet peeves is when people pronounce "frustrated" as if it were spelled, "fustrated." It makes my skin crawl.

But on to other things... I have 320 pictures from our trip to NC and the computer refuses to recognize my camera. I don't know what's up, but it keeps saying, "Check connection."

I did. It's connected. Any other ideas?

Anyway.

I have a pot of chilli bubbling away on the stove and a certifiably clean living room. On to the kitchen. Then bath. Then bedroom. Then maybe I can get the carport cleaned out. Then (this'll never happen, by the way) Halloween decorations! YAY!

I'm planning a Halloween Extravaganza for Cam and his cousins next weekend. Pumpkin painting, a pumpkin rolling race, maybe bobbing for apples. Should be fun. I hope I have my camera fixed by then!

Sweet Home

2009-09-28T22:53:00.004-04:00

I kind of heart Reese Witherspoon. When I do something spectacular and Disney calls and wants to make a movie about me, I will require in my obnoxiously huge contract that she play me in the feature film.

Anyway, there is this part in Sweet Home Alabama where she returns home and runs into one of her old girlfriends in a local dive... and the girl has her kid with her; she's holding him up on her hip. And it's just awesome how Reese is like, "You have a baby... in a bar!?" because she's completely horrified that a woman would take her kid to such a place.

Tonight, I wasn't Reese Witherspoon. I was the Other Girl. I had a baby ... in a bar. The Carolina game was on and, well... Marco's Italian. Not so much into American football. We couldn't force him to watch it - not after how great he's been cooking dinner for us every night (7 courses of homemade pizza ... pancetta and mushroom cream sauce pasta ... but I digress...). So, Lee, Mac Dad and I (duuuuuude. Mac requires his own post. His is an old friend from college - the guy who introduced Lee to me) went to a local college bar and ate wings and fish tacos while Cam terrorized the waitresses and we watched football. It was awesome. And embarrassing. And funny. But all I kept imagining was running into some girl I had English class with, and her saying, "Oh, my God! You have a baby! In a bar ..."

I can imagine how wrong it looked. But we're all on vacation. Cam gets his fun, too.

Back at the Beach

2009-09-27T17:43:00.003-04:00

Did I ever tell you that before I moved to NJ to be with Lee, I lived in a tiny little apartment in Carolina Beach, NC, and lived a magical life of leisure, surrounded by a circle of fantastic international friends who not only are charming and gracious, but also way, way better cooks than I am? And I abandoned all of it - my apartment at the beach, the stirring, global conversation, the cool ocean breezes and evening gin & tonics - to move to jersey with Lee?

Well, I'm back, baby. Back in Wilmington, where I went to college, revisiting all my old haunts. Today it included lunch with my best friend, Allison (who snarks around this blog saying wildly inappropriate things from time to time); her husband, Marco (he of the pasta with butter and sage); A and O, her twin boys; Lee; Camo, and the French, Christel & Jerome and their son, Teo at the French's house on the beach.

Three courses: Shrimp, scallop and avocado salad over musculin greens with home-made dressing sort of like Thousand Island, but way better; grilled beef medallions in some sort of oyster sauce/mustard/onion marinade with rice, and homemade apple crumble. Oh, frick, it was good. Ginger mojitos and Corona. Cool breezes blowing in off the Intercoastal. Happy boys playing well together at our feet. Perfect. Just like old times, but plus 4 toddlers.

We are desperately trying to find a way to sell everything we own so we can move down here and stay. I miss it. I would love for Cam to be a beach baby.

Pictures coming soon.

Those adorable parade pictures

2009-09-21T18:55:00.001-04:00

OK - here's the latest example of me not learning my lesson. So, my previous post showed in excruciating detail why Lee's cousin, Noel, is not to be trusted. But I am not familiar enough with her warning signs to know when a colossal screw up is about to manifest, so I wasn't prepared for the next mess she dragged me into. From now on, I'm going to assume the signs she's about to exaggerate, lie and mislead me are: 1. Her opening her mouth and 2. her sharing an idea.

OK, so after the wedding fiasco, I thought maybe she gathered her wits and had her act together. So when my MIL said, "Noel is taking Brendan (Noel's son) to a fire truck show in Boonton," and added that Cam might enjoy it, too, I didn't see any red flags flying. Sounds pretty cool to me. Boonton is a cute little town with a really long, hilly Main Street with all kinds of cute shops along it. We go to the Farmer's Market on Saturdays right off of Main Street and I was thinking that's probably where the truck show would be. It has lots of open space, is off of Main Street and is right by this giant, gorgeous park with a waterfall and a reservoir. We walk around Boonton all the time on Saturday mornings, so I figured if we took the ILs and Noel and Sean and Brendan, it would be two birds: Family outing and, well, extended family outing. I asked Chris, my MIL, for details and she said to be at Noel's at 10:30.

Lee called Noel and was like, "Can you just text me the address of where it's supposed to be in Boonton? That way we don't have to drive all the way to your house," which is in the opposite direction. Well, she didn't send the address, so we just went to her house at 10:30 as she originally instructed. As we were pulling in the driveway, she sent the text. Big help. So, we showed up and no one was ready. I was like, What time does the show begin? One o'clock. Then why did we have to be there so early I wondered. (I could hear bells faintly ringing. I didn't know at the time they were alarm bells signaling disaster ahead.) Boonton is only 15 minutes away from our house, so the early arrival time was clearly meant to get us there so we had to wait on her. She could again let her kid sleep in, eat when he wanted, get dressed at his leisure ... while we're all sitting there twiddling our thumbs with nothing to do.

Finally, at like 12:30, she's ready to go. We start filing out of the house, and she grabs like three giant bowls/trays of food out of the fridge, and I'm thinking, "What the hell is all that?" (Now air-raid sirens are screaming in my head, alarm bells having failed). But still, I didn't say anything. I should have. We never would have gone.

THERE WAS NO FIRE TRUCK SHOW IN BOONTON - IT WAS A FAMILY BARBECUE AT SOMEONE'S HOUSE TO WATCH A PARADE. That dummy invited us to someone else's family party, without telling us or the hosts. I was so mortified - walking into a stranger's party, with my kid and in-laws, completely empty-handed. I just wanted to die. So, everyone was kind of like, awkwardly introducing themselves to me (Lee knew some of them from high school) and I was just dying. We left to go walk up and down the street to watch the fire trucks. The house the party was at was smack in the middle of the parade staging area. We got to sit on and look at all of the fire trucks, but MY GOD what is wrong with that girl? We watched the parade and left. We didn't really have much choice since our car was blocked in my fire truck after fire truck.

At one point, I had to get food for Cameron and felt so self-conscious about helping myself. But, I was told we'd be in Boonton at 10:30 AM so I'd planned on being home already for lunch. Plus I figured if I needed anything, I'd just buy it on Main Street or at the Farmers Market. But we were in a neighborhood far from everything and I had no choice. I felt like such an ass. I was an unwitting Labor Day Barbecue Crasher.

I thanked the hostess before we left and I wanted to say, "Sorry I crashed your party. Noel is an asshole," but I opted to go with, "Thanks so much for having us - this was a pleasant surprise and I appreciate it!" And then I blushed magenta and melted into the lawn.

Never again.

Finally - the wedding recap

2009-09-13T13:36:00.002-04:00

Because there's just too much going on, I proudly give you... the e-mail I sent to my mother recapping the wedding.

We had Noel and Sean's white trash wedding on Saturday - did I tell you about that? The bride was the one who gave me what-for a week or so ago about how by not bringing Cam to the wedding I was splitting up her family... I didn't know how good I had it, yada yada ...? Well, anyway, we bought him the outfit she said her son was wearing - Khaki shorts and a short-sleeved, button-down shirt and we showed up at the prescribed time(10 AM for a 1 PM wedding). And we sat. And sat. While her son napped in his crib, mine was bored out of his mind in her living room. She even put all of the toys away in the nursery so there was nothing for Cam to play with. Also - NO FOOD! We got there so early, and she didn't even have a basket of bagels out. We were starving.

We then got 3 family pictures taken, in which Lee and I were not even posed together. It looks like I'm married to Gene. Stupid. Oh - and when Brendan, the other baby, got up from his nap, they dressed him in a 3-piece suit. So, now my kid's in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, and her kid is in a suit. Nice.

Then, it was 12:30, I was starving and I'm like, "We gotta go - the church is 20 minute away." So, off we went, me, Lee, Cam and Gene. We stopped for a sandwich on the way. So, we got there and Cam was great - Brendan was locked in the cry room, pounding on the window with his white trash uncle and his crack addict girlfriend.

Then, it's over. Time to go to the reception. Cam was now delirious because it was 2 PM and he usually naps at 1. He hadn't had lunch and was ready to run. Through the country club. It was dark in the cocktail hour room/bar and he was tripping and falling down stairs, tripping over chair legs, tripping people walking with drinks... he was a mad man. So, there I am with my handbag, the diaper bag, his food bag, his toy bag and his nap mat and I found the hostess and I was like, "The bride said there was a play room for the kids?"

And so she walks me like 1/2 mile away from the cocktail hour room into this conference room with about a million hazards in it, a pack and play folded up in the corner and a 30-year old infant swing and was like, "You can leave your son here."

Right.

So, I'm like, "Where are the baby sitters? I was told there would be baby sitters?" and she said I would have to ask the bride. Short story - no sitters.

So, now I'm drenched with sweat. I dropped all of the bags, picked up Cam and went back to find Lee. I was like, "See you later - I'll be sitting in the conference room in the back." And he said, "let's just leave - this is stupid that she made us bring him and then couldn't care less about the predicament we're in."

So, I called my girlfriend from work, Tracy (who loves Cam and has watched him before) and she was like, "I'm in the yard, pulling weeds - bring him over!" So we dropped him off at her house and went back to the reception. Poor Tracy. By the time he got there, he was cranky, starving and tired, but she said it wasn't a problem. Her daughter is 15 and she and a friend played with him for hours. He was asleep by 8:30 when we got back to the house to pick him up.

We ended up having a good time at the wedding - danced all night and actually were able to enjoy ourselves. That is the last time I ever listen to a word Noel says. What an enormous inconvenience to ask of your wedding guests. Thank goodness we had Tracy near by.

Only that wasn't the last time I listened to Noel. I made the mistake again. I'll save the rehashing of that debacle for another night. Needless to say, I was fuming!

The Wedding

2009-08-27T21:17:00.008-04:00

Summary of the whole debacle to come, but for now... photos.

Us:

The guy above is a sweat hog. I mean, really? He's a middle-aged man who looks like he just dunked his head in a bucket. Gross. Below is the girl Lee shared his first kiss with. They were in the movie theatre - they saw Ghost. How cute is that?

Above is Lee with the bride. Below, my MIL, who refused to look at the camera, Lee and FIL.

The day started off really badly, but we recovered during the cocktail hour and ended up having a great time. No thanks to anyone else... Will post soon - promise! My boss has been in town, so there's been no chance for me to write my posts at work and e-mail them home, like I usually do. I've been reading, though and will catch up soon. No, really. I will.

Hi

2009-08-19T07:46:00.001-04:00

I miss you guys! I'll be better about posting - promise!

That didn't last long

2009-08-01T04:07:00.002-04:00

I'm over it. Tonight didn't go well. There is so much, I don't even know where to begin. Feel free to skip this.

I feel bullied, ignored and ridiculed. But ultimately, I feel lonely. With a touch of pathetic...and some pissed off sprinkled on top.

OK.

It's the peripheral "bullied" that is keeping me up tonight. I feel like I was emotionally exploited and forced to capitulate on something that I feel very strongly about for the sake of keeping the peace. But I was in tears tonight over the being ridiculed part.

And now I have to figure out how I'm going to orchestrate taking a 20-month-old to a wedding that starts at 10 AM and ends probably at 3 AM the next day, all because the bride started crying, claiming I was trying to split up her family. So, that was awesome.

"Split up the family" because I don't want to take him to the reception, you see. Because, as a general rule, I think toddlers shouldn't attend weddings. Even my own toddler. For a number of reasons:

1. They get cranky

2. They get noisy

3. They need constant supervision

4. The need to eat and nap at inconvenient times

5. They get bored

6. Their parents have to spend the entire day focused on them rather than the bride and groom

7. Their parents don't get a chance to enjoy themselves

And so on and so forth. Additionally, I was kind of looking forward to eating dinner with my husband. You know - both of us sitting together at a table. Eating hot food. At the same time. That's not something that happens very often around here.

But no. I was informed that I would be expected to be at her house at 10 AM and would turn my son over to Unknown Babysitters A and B so that Cameron could be in family pictures when Bride wanted throughout the day.

I said, no, that's not my plan. Cam will attend the wedding and we will do pictures after, but then I've driving him to the sitter I have picked out (who has watched Cam a number of times) so we can attend the reception. Enter Bride's mother - three inches from my face, "That's why there's grandmothers, Trish - so you don't have to watch your baby!"

This happened repeatedly. Bride saying things like, "I'm not taking no for an answer. He's going to be there!" And me politely saying, "I think he'll be fine at the church, but it's too long of a day for him to go to the reception."And then my MIL and the bride's mother tag-teaming me, claiming they would take care of him.

Peppered in were little tid-bits of information, like I wouldn't be driving my son anywhere that day - the sitter would do it. (No way - no one is driving my kid anywhere. Especially not strangers), and also that he would be outfitted in some sort of khaki shorts and blazer combo that I would not be allowed to purchase (Are you kidding? I can clothe my own child, thanks).

Bride then moved on to Lee, telling him we were going to bring Cam to the wedding. Daggers, girls, daggers, were being shot from my eyes to his, "Don't you fucking agree to anything!" was what those daggers were saying.

I really wanted to tell all three of those bossy ladies to go fuck themselves; that neither me nor my kid liked any of them, and I would sooner leave him in the care of a pride of lions than with any one of them, let alone a combination of them, and certainly not a babysitter I'd never met. But I didn't. Because I was a guest.

So then this drunken, bossy, mess of a bride starts talking about her childhood doll. She proceeded to drag this freakish mess of tattered rags out of a box in the laundry room, hold on her lap and loudly state the doll had been through hell and back with her.

Gotta tell you, I thought it was the spookiest looking thing I'd ever seen. Maybe it wasn't appropriate to say, "Holy smokes! That's the creepiest doll I've ever seen!" but really, ya'll, it was straight out of a horror film. And yes, I said it. So, Bride starts lamenting her tough childhood, sitting in closets with this doll and I started to feel bad. So, OK, now I'm saying, "She's not that spooky... just ... worn."

The situation was spiraling downward. But, it was a slow spiral and I am only aware of it now, in retrospect.

Next, Bride leaves table to go smoke a cigarette in the garage with her mother (Have I mentioned they're a real classy bunch?) and I looked at groom - perhaps the most amazing, kind, patient, funny man on earth - and say, "Should I go have a cigarette out of girlfriend solidarity?"

And he says, "I think that that's a great idea. I think she needs it."

Now, I'm thinking - she's three weeks away from her wedding. That's stressful. Her dad isn't invited - my FIL is walking her down the aisle and dancing with her and handling all of those FOB duties. That's sad. Her freaking doll looks like a zombie mummy. That's sad, too. This girl needs something to cheer her up. I'm one funny mo fo - I can handle this!

Wrong.

This girl needs a punch in the mouth.

Dude. She laid into me about how I don't know how good I have it and I need to appreciate my in-laws and I need to take advantage of having them, yada yada. Alarm bells, light bulbs, sirens... all are going off in my head - "YOU WERE RIGHT! MIL HAS BEEN TRASH-TALKING YOU FOR YEARS!" A brief moment of vindication distracted me from this tongue-lashing. And all I could feel was relief. It was so obvious, I felt elated. I hadn't been imagining it. My mother in law hates me, too! Thank God! We're even.

I honestly felt so awesome when the realization hit me that I started to get distracted. By her tears. Her nervous bridal rantings. And I reverted to girlfriend mode. And really, what I had before me was a very stressed out bride, wanting things to go her way on her wedding day. So I said, "OK. He'll be there."

Well, that shut her up.

"He'll be there. If you want him there, he's there," I said, "I will buy whatever outfit you want. Put me in charge of something. I'll hand out programs. But for God sake, calm down and promise me you'll enjoy your day."

Well, more tears after that. I felt good about saying it at that moment. But now it's 5 AM and I am regretting it. Regretting that I let someone exploit my sense of solidarity to get what she wanted. Regretting that I capitulated to nagging. Regretting that I put her wishes above mine, especially when it comes to my kid.

Obviously, Cam will not be riding in anyone's car but mine. And he won't be sitting at a kid's table with a bunch of kids and babysitters he doesn't know. If he's going to be there, he's going to be with me. And I will sacrifice my day so that this crazy bride can have all the freaking pictures she wants. But I'm not happy about it. Not happy at all.

Back to the IL part.

So, Lee and I got home and my guns were loaded for bear. I told him what Bride said and my tears started. His reaction was ... defeated. I was pretty much told that he was staying out of it and if I wanted to confront my MIL about what she'd said previously to Bride, that was my call (he recommended that I do it) but he didn't want to be involved.

Since she is bat-shit crazy, I said I wouldn't do or say anything until after the wedding when things simmered down a bit. Now I don't know if it's worth the effort. I mean, is there any repairing a relationship that has been non-existent for two years? I don't know. I don't even know if I care. I mean, I don't like her, either, so who's to blame her for not liking me?

I just know that I miss my family and that I don't like feeling stranded up here in Jersey.

Wow. That was long.

Fresh

2009-07-25T13:55:00.001-04:00

Just got my hair trimmed - and I got a pedi, too. My tootsies are looking very summery. I am refreshed - a new woman. A positive, in-law enchanting, shiny haired, new woman.

It's going to be a great summer. No more bitchy posts. (Unless they do something really, really awful.)

If I knew you were coming ...

2009-07-24T18:12:00.002-04:00

... I'd have baked a cake. And cleaned my bathroom. And swept the floor. And bought groceries. And washed the dishes in the sink. But I didn't. So I didn't. Yet, you're still coming.

Lee calls at 3 PM (from a bar, where he's drinking beers with his dad because Lee has summer Fridays and his dad has nothing better to do).

"I thought it would be a good idea to have a cookout tonight," he said.

"OK," I replied, being too busy at work to get sidetracked with his nonsense, and thinking that - since he was not at work, he would do some of the standard prep work for such an event, small though it is.

No dice. I came home to the neighbor kids kicking a ball around outside with Lee and nothing done inside. He's like, "We should probably get some things cleaned up inside." And I wanted to kick him in the balls.

Because A. He had five hours to do that at his leisure, and B. By "we" he means "me" - as proved by "A."

So, now I'm blogging instead of cleaning the bathroom because you know what? If you "pop over for dinner" as his parents apparently are going to do three times a week for the next 7 months, they will just have to deal with my husband's toothpaste spit on the faucet.

Update: Day Two

2009-07-20T19:25:00.002-04:00

They're here again. In NJ for 36 hours and 10 of them have been spent at my house. God, they are exhausting.

I cannot keep this act up for 7 months. I'm going to crack. Over/under: My birthday. On October 29th, I say I will have: A. Given my MIL the finger B. Told her to get out of my house C. Told her to get away from my kid or D. All of the above.

So, any takers? Who has the over? Who has the under?

D-Day

2009-07-19T15:19:00.003-04:00

My In-laws arrive today. For their seven-month "visit." Think when you're living some place for more than half the year, it's not really a visit - it's where you live. Your location for the remainder of the year is the visit.

Based on that logic, my in-laws live in the photo-hut sized guest room of their friend's house.

Seriously, what is wrong with them?

More later...

The Mean Reds

2009-07-15T07:36:00.001-04:00

I put cream in my tea this morning instead of 2% and I pretended like it was an accident. But really, it wasn't. I needed a half-ounce of decadence to get me going this morning.

It's been a hell of a few days: emotionally draining as well as physically. Cam hasn't been feeling well - hasn't been sleeping or eating good as a result and so neither have I. Add to that the stress and strain between me and Lee and I am a pimple-faced insomniac these days.

Can we crunch some numbers? Maybe you mathematical types can break this down for me, but I just don't know how a married couple earning over $150K with no credit card debt can not have enough money at the end of the month to afford to have another baby. This is our dilemma. And by "dilemma" I mean "hissing and spitting, snarling and scrapping bone of contention."

Call me old fashioned. I'm of the school that says, "Hey, young, healthy couple! In love? (nod 'yes') Ready to procreate? (nod 'yes') Then have a baby! (cheer excitedly).

Lee on the other hand is of the school that says, "Can you afford to continue to put 20% of your pay into your 401K and pay for an additional child in full-time day care? What is the cost-benefit ratio of having a child now as opposed to waiting until 'Child A' has left day-care for full-time elementary school? How will having another child impact day-to-day expenses?" Yada Yada. And I'm just like ... that's not what's supposed to be important. People have babies and they get by. People make it work. I am so angry over having to justify wanting a baby. I am so angry to have a new spread sheet sent to me every day. I am so angry that I'm given the Cinderella ultimatum, "If you can save $10,000 by the end of the year, we can have a baby." It's bullshit. And it makes me angry. Which doesn't make it pleasant around here.

The Fourth

2009-07-06T22:56:00.007-04:00

Baby loves meatballs

2009-06-29T21:00:00.002-04:00

These are never-fail meatballs that toddlers and daddies alike will gobble up. They are chock-full of veggies but not in an off-putting way.

I usually grate the veggies on a box grater and mix up the meat the night before actually cooking them, so as to give the flavors more time to marry.

Here's what you need:

1 large carrot, grated

1 medium green zucchini, grated

1 red pepper, minced fine

1/2 a yellow onion, grated

1 large garlic clove, minced

generous sprinkle of dry oregano

black pepper, whatever amount you're comfy giving your kid. Cam digs about 10 grinds

2 tbspns ground flax seed

1/4 c to 1/2 cup of Italian bread crumbs

sprinkle of grated Parmesan cheese

1 egg

2 or 3 tbspns Worchestershire sauce

2 or 3 tbspns balsamic vinegar

And last but not least, 1 lb ground turkey (I also use "meatloaf mix" which is equal parts ground beef, veal and pork).

Grate the veggies and place them in a calender. Lightly sprinkle them with salt and then put a plate and a can of tomatoes or something heavy on them to help press out the water. You want them dried out. Maybe if you leave them to sit for 1/2 hour, that should do it.

Meanwhile, in a big bowl, scramble your egg with all of the other ingredients, except the meat. Then, fold in the grated veggies, coating them in the goopy egg mixture. And then finally, break up your meat and very gently incorporate it into the veggie mess. You want to keep from roughly treating the meat, otherwise, the meatballs will be tough. Gentle hands, ladies, gentle hands.

This is where I usually quit for the night - due to sheer exhaustion, mostly, but also because it's good for the end product.

Then, the next day, when you've realized you grated all of the skin off of your knuckles, it's time to start cooking. Heat up your pan on lowish/mediumish heat coat the bottom with olive oil (if you're using turkey - beef won't require additional oil - and get rolling. You want them smaller than a golf ball. When you have like 15 or so ready to go, add them to the pan. keep rolling so that you have your second (and third) batch ready to go when the first is done cooking.

I put paper towel on the counter, set up a cookie rack over top of it and as the meatballs are done cooking (browned and crispy - the balsamic will make them brown darkly, but that is the most delicious part) I pull them out of the pan and put them on the cookie rack to drain. I eat about every third meatball. I heart them. I've also started buying my meat in bulk from Costco and make about 50 meatballs and 12 hamburgers at a time from a batch, so I'm powering through my recipe box looking for scraps of paper with measurements on it ... just for you, Audrey. Everybody thank Audrey.

You must make these - Cameron loves them and I love giving them to him because they are so good for him. It's a lot of work, but not if you plan ahead and do it over a couple nights. Plus, your freezer will be stocked for weeks. It's worth it.

One little tid-bit

2009-06-18T19:09:00.002-04:00

It suddenly hit me that this blog is private (sometimes I forget) so I don't have to be hush-hush with you girls. Pheeew! What a relief. So, here's one detail of the the abridged version of what I've been alluding to: I'm about two solid days' worth of work away from finishing a children's book. I've been working on it for a few months, and I am super-excited to be so near the end.

My brother is an artist and he is going to illustrate it and we're then going to try to get it published. I know - last post all about not finishing projects and here I go starting something new while not tying off the loose ends I've had dangling for years, but you know what - I need a sure thing. I know I can finish this. And this will be the motivating carrot I need dangling in front of me. I know I will get so many other things going again once I have this entire task completed. For example, I've already started getting back into needlework and sewing. And I don't just mean curtains for the kitchen or a slipcover for the sofa. Real projects. Keepsakes. Lee's Great-Aunt Mary, who is 92, sent me a few tea towels that her sister, Katherine (Lee's grandmother) made, and told me the story behind themr. I was so moved by how she treasured them and turned them over to me to care for that I thought, "I'm capable of creating beautiful mementos, too. I should contribute to the tradition," so I picked it up again. I hope to be able to eventually recreate new versions of Katherine's tea towels and have a whole set to pass on to my great-granddaughter one day.

So, yeah - a children's book. About a princess. I am so tickled by it. I hope to be able to share a portion of it with you soon, but to be honest, I want to have the artwork to go along with it. My Bro is currently drafting some sketches for me to look at, and as soon as we have something we're comfortable with, I'll give you girls a sneak peek. I'm super-pumped. It's so nice to have a new creative outlet again!

Riding the Wave

2009-06-10T20:43:00.003-04:00

I've often spoken about my Talking Heads Moments, but the truth is, pretty much every aspect of my life has a soundtrack. Every mood, every event has a corresponding song. For instance, when I'm feeling overwhelmed but optimistic, and frenzied but totally capable, I hear the same song playing in my head. It inexplicably shows up on the radio while I'm powering through town running errand after errand. I blast it from my computer from my "Get 'er Done" play list: Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves.

I know, right? I hate that song. Everybody hates that song. But I just can't get away from it.

The peppy, somewhat frantic beat, the enthusiastic wailing, the shrill horns... they compliment my sort of maniacal determination to overcome whatever obstacles stand in my way: an apathetic editor; AmTrak "customer service;" the billing department at my old pediatrician; a grumpy check-out clerk at Shoprite. When I am on a mission - locked and loaded with my target in sight - that damn song by Katrina and the Waves creeps into my subconscious and spurs me on.

As I stood in the center of my driveway this morning, a light drizzle falling on my shoulders, the mountain of mulch looked right at home. It is about 80 percent depleted and probably is better classified - at this point - more as a "heap" than a "mountain", but there it sits, dwindled, and pathetic, yet still there. We had every intention of sprucing up the yard, but then lost the motivation to finish. Sort of like we did with a wiring project in our family room. And the trim in that room, too. And the plate rack for the kitchen. And the closet doors for the guest room. And sanding the stairs. And the accents for the baby's room. And the paint in the hallway. And the switchplate covers in the family room. We are so good at compiling lists (and by "we" I mean me and Lee, because he is just as guilty) but not so good at the follow through. We begin with gusto and high aspirations, then our enthusiasm flags, our attention wains, and before you know it, all work has stopped. Right about at 80% complete. We get pretty far, but we never seal the deal.

Did you know I wrote a book? It's sitting in a box in my guest room closet. Never got around to doing anything with it. Did you know I used to crochet and embroider? Blankets and samplers are packed, far from completed, in boxes in the attic. Did you know I have asked my girlfriends at least three times in the past 5 years to send me their favorite recipes so I could compile a cookbook for us but NEVER followed through with this idea?

I hate that I don't close the loop. It really bothers me. And now, as I type this, the sound of that song... that furiously twanging, '80s spaz-fest of a song ... spurring me on. It's enticing me to get my butt in gear and not only finish what I started, but start doing what I wanted. The wheels are in motion, girls, as I hinted before. I have something BIG on my plate and as soon as I figure out how to make the leap from here to there, I'll bring you all along. But for now, me and Katrina need to get some projects done, buy some software, create a timeline and crank up the music.

Party Prep: The Summer Version

2009-06-01T20:44:00.002-04:00

The pages of my "To Do" notebook (because a list just won't cut it for me) are filling up fast. The Fourth of July - my third favorite (after Halloween and Thanksmas) holiday is fast approaching. And we are behind schedule, ya'll. There is a ginormous pile of mulch sitting in my driveway. So far we've used about 1/3 to mulch the beds in the front, side and rear... we also managed to line half of the driveway. And at this moment, I'd like to pause to give a shout-out to my main monster, Cameron, for giving his Mommy a three-and-a-half hour break from playing cars on Saturday. He is a true champion who lives by the "play hard, nap hard" mantra.

We still have the other half of the driveway, our neighbor's neglected, ugly fence and the horseshoe pits area to mulch. Maybe even around our rusty shed, if there's enough. And if I manage to scrub, prime and paint it - which is not likely before July 4th. Although, a girl can dream. And then we need to buy some plants. Come on impatiens, be on sale somewhere.

I have my "alpha" guest list, as well as my "beta." These are comprise solely of who I think will actually attend. The "B" list people are mostly neighbors, who I am guessing will have back-yard shindigs of their own. But we are 0-3 in hosting the neighbors, so it's our turn to pony up... even if our invite gets declined.

If everyone attends, it would be 32 adults, plus 6 kids and one infant. Man, I hope it doesn't rain.

We have a nice big back yard, but no patio, deck or surface of any kind. we usually PWT it and put our outside table and chairs in the car port and eat there. The grill goes on the grass - a charcoal Weber, because I am a purest - and I agonize over the coals, debating whether they are the right shade of gray before piling on the food. We just scored a semi-used-but-like-new gas grill to add to the lineup, and I am super stoked to use it in conjunction with my Weber. I can definitely rock some
BBQ food now.

I am asking people to bring some food items, but am making a lot of what I have planned myself. I will be doing burgers and dogs, chicken in some form - thighs? legs? kabobs? - maybe ribs, tricolor pasta salad, flag cake and sangria. I'm going to ask Barb to make her totally bitchin' broccoli slaw (the recipe for which I will post as soon as I get her to confirm it) and Becky to make potato salad, which is way better than any of the 3 hundred thousand potato salads I've ever made. Other guests will fill in the gaps with snacks, fruit salad and beer.

Still need to get: citronella candles, flags, glow-in-the-dark things for the kids, picnic tables, umbrellas, chiminea, lanterns, plates, cups, napkins, picnicware, recycle bins, additional seating... maybe a drink fountain. If I had a patio, I would buy a drink fountain. I heart them and would fill mine with sangria and float orange slices in it. Every day - not just for parties.

Now, can I go back to the flag cake for a minute? Why is something so simple and so basic such a huge hit at every 4th of July party I've ever attended? White cake, cream cheese frosting, grand marnier, blueberries, strawberries... that's it. But it's always a an "ooohhh ahhhh" moment when the flag cake make an appearance. I love it. I live for it. I curse the state of New Jersey for making sparklers illegal, because their brilliant, semi-dangerous flicker is the only thing that could add more drama to the moment the pasta salad is whisked away and the flag cake takes its place on the buffet table. I'll post that recipe too, but here's a hint - the key ingredient comes in a box with a Lady's name printed on the front.

I owe you some

2009-05-27T22:16:00.006-04:00

Craziness ... no, seriously

2009-05-21T07:30:00.002-04:00

Cam has been in and out of the doctor's office - several doctors' offices, actually - all due to a low-grade fever. ER doc said it was an ear infection. Less than 24 hours later, his pedi said there was no sign of ear infection but that he probably had hand foot and mouth - red, streaky sore throat being the indication of that. However, she wanted me to keep him on antibiotics "just in case" (even though HFM is viral and thus antibiotics have no impact on it). Exasperated, but nervous to go against doctor's orders, I did what she said, but left thoroughly dissatisfied.

I then went on a quest to find an holistic pediatrician - one who wouldn't arm me with unnecessary prescriptions as I walked out the door as my previous one had, and one who wouldn't ask me to medicate my child with drugs he didn't need. I think I found her.

On Tuesday, Cam's daycare called again - I swear, the administrator has a hair trigger on her dialing finger - he had a 100.3 fever and I needed to get him. This was at 9:30. By 11 AM he and I were rocking out to Noggin, splitting a plate of left-over pasta and calling her a fool. He was totally fine. But, he needed to go to the doctor if he was going to be allowed in the door today (Wednesday was a loss - fever knocks them out of school for another 24 hours). Cam saw his new doc and she is a dream - totally laid back, very hands-on and accepting and nonjudgemental about alternate vaccination schedules. Perfect. She is about 30 minutes away from our house, but after the grief I had with the other pedi regarding the MMR shot, she is worth the trip.

In other exciting news ... well, I can't really get into it yet, but can I just tell you that I am working overtime on a super-secret project that is going to knock your socks off - I hope. One little, itty-bitty idea has turned into a Thing. And that Thing is now dominating every spare minute. I am nervous and excited. Cannot wait to share with you, but for now, I'm going to draw out the suspense. At least until I have something a bit more tangible to show for it. Stay tuned for more updates!

Oh, and my super cool workplace has gotten decidedly less cool in recent days - not only can I not post to any blogs from work - now I can't even read any! Any and all blogging sites are blocked from our network. I think I am on some sort of "spends too much time on the internet" list or something. Everything is blocked. Bummer. So, I will have to take extra time in the morning to get caught up with you girls, because there is a lot happening! Like with Heather, for instance. Congratulations on getting on the train, my dear - you're in for a wild ride! Good luck to you and Eli - you'll be great at parenting!

Cat, no longer in bag

2009-05-04T20:52:00.002-04:00

Mentioned to my Bro that I have a blog today. It's just a matter of time before he asks to read it. In which case I must comply.

If that's the case, I might as well "un-private" myself.

Not that I would mind. I started out public; it would be fine to go back.

But family ... reading my blog? Wonder what effect that would have on my choice of topics?

Harbinger #4

2009-05-01T11:31:00.002-04:00

Miscommunication.

Finally on the bus, I relaxed as much as I could. I mean, really, a bus? To Boston? Not the relaxing and productive journey I'd imagined, but it would do the trick. I was sweaty, jittery and hungry to say the least, but finally underway.

I reached the half-way point of the trip - Connecticut - and began looking for familiar town names on the exit signs. Finally, there it was: Exit, Babbling Brook, 1 mi. My old college roomie, the Swiss Miss, is from Babbling Brook, so I happily sent her a text message that continued a longstanding joke about our imaginary, globe-trotting, free-range pet hamster, Hobie.

Me: Passing Babbling Brook, CT and thinking of you!

Monica: Who's this? And thank you!

Me: Your old roomie, Trishie! I got a telegram and a bus ticket from Hobie - "Meet me in Boston" was all it said. I threw caution to the wind and decided to take him up on the offer, that rascally old devil.

Monica: Wrong number. Sounds like this Hobie could be bad news. But have fun in Beantown!

Mortified embarrassment quickly followed. OK, so Monica changed her cell number and I didn't update my phone book. Whoops. So, I was clicking away writing a text back to not-Monica trying to explain that it was just a joke - I was going to Boston for business and there really is no Hobie and I'm not that kind of girl... But then the crazy subsided and I figured, what the hell? Just let it ride. So someone in the 203 area code thinks there's a girl named Trishie out there who takes impetuous bus trips to meet up with old rascals... so what? And who cares that this person now has my phone number and could probably track me down without much trouble of he or she wanted. Unlikely.

Just another sign the trip was a waste.

Harbinger # 3

2009-04-28T21:58:00.003-04:00

Ominous announcements.

Like when your train conductor says the words, "power outage," "indefinitely delayed" and "collect your belongings."

Another sign things are not going to go your way.

So, yeah, having survived the waiting room in Newark, I was happily underway, feeling so efficient with my laptop and bottle of water and fabulously cute kitten heels. In just ten minutes we crossed the river and were in NY Penn station to take on more passengers. Ahhh... traveling by train, like Grace Kelly and Ingrid Bergman. Tray table down. Laptop out. Ready to be lulled by the rhythmic sounds of a north-bound train.

"Uhhhhhh... ladies and gentlemen, we've just been notified the line from New York to New Haven is without power. We're not going anywhere. Please stand by."

And shortly there after, "Please collect all of your belongings and return to the terminal. You will not be returning to this train."

Or any train, as fate would have it.

Picture mass pandemonium as about five thousand angry travelers are shuttled off of their trains into - what I imagine on any other day, under normal circumstances - is a large rain terminal. Cue the screamers demanding refunds. Cue the crying babies. Cue the panicking business travelers (for instance, me) who have no idea where they are and no idea how to get to where they need to be.

I gave it an hour, waiting for the initial chaos to subside. Amtrak would not cross-honor my ticket once the trains were running again. And there was no indication that would be any time soon. At 4:40 (four and a half hours after starting this trek) I decided to cut my losses with the train and - gulp - take a bus to Boston.

I came out of Penn Station into the molten City heat, dragging a suitcase the size of a dishwasher and toting my big brown handbag laden with aforementioned laptop and water bottle.

I stupidly asked some dude where Port Authority was. He predictably told me the wrong direction, which I didn't realize until I'd gone a block out of my way.

After hiking from 32nd & 7th to 40th & 9th, I easily purchased a bus ticket and was on a bus that left NY at 5:30 - exactly the time I was supposed to be arriving in Boston.

Harbinger #2

2009-04-27T21:44:00.003-04:00

Remember back in the day when the most annoying part of traveling was the chatterbox seated next to you who droned on and on about the wedding/reunion/conference she was attending? You know the type - her carry-on items were too big for the overhead bin, so she sent the entire flight crew into committee over what to do with her bag, and all the while she's narrating for your benefit why she brought such enormous luggage to begin with ("You've never been to Pinache on 7th? You must go next time you VISIT INSERT NAME OF CITY YOU'LL NEVER RETURN TO"). And she kept it up for the duration of the trip - no matter how many times you yawned, grunted half-heartedly or repositioned your headphones snugly over your ears in a passive, but blatant sign that you just weren't interested.

That character used to be the most dreaded part of traveling for me. However, the explosion of technology devices - and the general population's overpowering phobia of solitude - has lead to the emergence of an even more annoying and intrusive travel-companion phenomenon: the cell phone talker.

The cell phone talker is an even bigger nuisance because even the gauzy film of propriety that existed between you and the chatterbox has been blown away by the cell phone talker. Why? Because she isn't even talking to you - you're just subjected to the wildly inappropriate vignettes she rehashes to girlfriend after insipid girlfriend while you sit next to her, waiting for - praying for - your train to be announced. You are a plastic deck chair caught up in the tornado of her gossipy rehashing. And while you try desperately to ignore her proclamations that "Miranda has crabs" and "he doesn't make enough to support her" there's very little you can do to escape the vortex of her idiocy.

The girl who sat next to me - happily not a crack addict, pan-handler or gang member (of any gang that I would find intimidating, anyway. Maybe she was in a J. Crew gang, I don't know) - was the most prolific cell phone talker I've ever witnessed. She retold the same story, word for word four times to four different people. She even tossed in a trite, "Are you mad at me?" conversation for good measure - complete with "sad baby" voice. It was yet another sign that this trip was doomed.

Harbinger #1

2009-04-27T17:47:00.002-04:00

The first sign things were not going to go as planned: I got to Newark, Penn Station an hour early.

Here's a tip for all of you Type-A personalities out there - sometimes, it pays to be a little more impetuous, a little less cautious. Sometimes it's a good idea to forgo your wide margins of time in favor of the excitement of dashing to the train. Because otherwise, you risk sitting in the ghetto's waiting room, flanked by degenerates and perverts. For an hour. One awkward, "My, that cologne he's wearing sure smells like urine... oh, that ...is ...urine" revelation after another. Luckily for me, all of the schizophrenics were ranting in Spanish, so I didn't catch most of the ramblings.

Have any of you had the pleasure of visiting Newark, NJ? It's the East Coast's version of Compton, for the unfamiliar. Having worked in the city for two years, I was familiar with the state of disrepair the city is in, but working there and sitting still in a confined public space for an extended period of time are two different things. This was raunchy.

Steamy and tepid and not nearly drunk enough

2009-04-26T22:56:00.003-04:00

I have to be honest with you - I'm sitting in the bathtub right now. Let's just get it out there: I am nakedly sitting in a bath full of warm sudsy water. At. This. Minute.

My laptop is precariously perched on a tub-spanning shampoo caddy. Also, I am guzzling a $9 glass of Riesling that this hotel really has no business charing more than $4.50 for. And also, there is a goat cheese, asparagus and prosciutto pizza within arm's reach - atop the toilet bowl lid that I draped in a gold damask napkin. I am flagrantly inappropriate and self-indulgent right now, but I earned it. I just endured an 11-hour travel saga. My easy-peasy, "won't it be nice to take a train ride to Boston for business" trip turned into a cluster-fuck of screw-ups and what is normally a 3-hour car ride turned into an 11 hour test of my endurance.

I haven't had enough wine to fully describe in the detail each gem of a screw-up ... but I'll ruminate on some of the highlights and will try to post them tomorrow. If I survive. I have hopes that this influx of decadence resuscitates me and gets me back to normal by 9 AM tomorrow when my first session starts. We'll see.

Trish + Crockpot TLA and BFF

2009-04-23T19:51:00.002-04:00

Made the Mexican dish in the crock pot again today - the hacienda smelled heavenly when we got home. Dinner for us done, dinner for Camo done, lunch for tomorrow packed, baby bathed and in jammies... and minutes to spare before the clock strikes 8 o'clock. Trishie is on a roll!

Trish + Crockpot TLA

2009-04-21T07:11:00.003-04:00

Pulled pork last night for dinner. I made it in the crock pot on Sunday night, and before I left for work, I popped the cooker and and when I got home ... all ready! To make it even better, I made yummy potato salad Sunday afternoon, too. So all I had to do last night was scoop all the drippy deliciousness onto a whole wheat roll, toasted with melted provolone and add a side of my red potato salad. Dinner took about 3 minutes to assemble. Heaven! Left-overs tonight for dinner, then I'm making the Mexican stew I posted a few days ago tomorrow for Wednesday and Thursday. A week's worth of dinners for two adults for about $15. Awesome!

I'm thinking about playing hookie tomorrow for Earth Day... I'd like to have a whole day to get the garden situated and I think I have myself about 80% convince that working on my own landscaping is a worthy Earth Day project. I'm not so certain my boss will feel the same, but even if she doesn't let me count it as "volunteer work" she may just let me take a PTO and call it the mental health holiday I've been trying to take for the past month. I have the potatoes in a planter and they have sprouted, and I also planted lettuce from seeds... no signs of the lettuce yet. I am not optimistic. Historically, I am not good with seeds: I'm a little too heavy-handed with the old watering can. I flood the seed started pots, causing them to overflow. I imagine that along with a good inch of planting soil, my seeds wash out of the pots, too. I never really end up with any sprouts.

On the deer front... they are back. Blasted, terrifying feral deer. I detest them. I've seen their hoof prints in the soft soil on our side yard and they 've already been back in the garden - they ate the strawberry plant that somehow survived the winter. can you imagine? That damn strawberry plant made it through the snow and frost with no help from me. Then, I unearthed it from all of the dead leaves and brush that built up over the fall and winter. And once I have it's tender little leaves excavated from the leaves and all of the soil turned around it and a nice drink of water poured for it, the blasted deer jumped into the garden and ravaged the lone plant in the entire space. Bummer. I feel so bad. I def can't wait until I have the plants in to raise the fence up another 4 feet. I need Earth Day to add the additional chicken wire. We'll see what my boss says today.

As it is, I've already spent 20 minutes blogging when I should be getting ready for work. I'm off to the shower - I'll check in with you all soon.

Thai toast

2009-04-06T21:00:00.002-04:00

Just when you think you're super mom for making your son a hot breakfast every morning... you go and discover the cinnamon you've been putting in his French Toast is actually cumin.

Double D

2009-03-30T21:22:00.002-04:00

'Scuse me, coming through. Don't mind me and my gigantic left boob. We're just trying to get through the day, ignoring the befuddled, inquisitive stares, the paranoia over possible leakage and the electrifying shock of pain that accompanies any amount of pressure on ol' Leftie. Stand back, please. Stand back. Me and Leftie need all the space we can get, since I cannot lower my arm flush with my body, out of fear of accidentally jostling my giganto-boob.

Just one. Just one boob. How does that happen?

Have I mentioned that weaning stinks?

Mexican Chicken Stew

2009-03-26T20:56:00.001-04:00

You must make this - it fulfills all dinner requirements: delicious, nutritious and easy - and it makes great leftovers. This is a crock-pot meal, so ladies, clear your counters. This is going to cook all day and your house will smell caliente and picante when you get home from work. Just make rice and Waa-laa.

You will need:
2 large chicken breasts
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 red pepper, chopped
3 ribs celery, chopped
3 large cloves of garlic, smashed but not chopped
1/2 can black beans, drained and rinsed
1 can creamed corn
1 container good, chunky salsa - I used medium, but if you like it hot, use hot
1 cup or so chicken broth (I had beef broth left over from the pot roast and that's what I used - it worked just as well)
1 packet taco seasoning, or make your own: 2 part black pepper, 1 part cayenne pepper, 2 part chili powder, 1 part garlic powder, 1 part cumin, dash red pepper flake, dash salt, dash cinnamon

brown rice and tortilla chips
green onions, sliced black olives and sour cream for garnish

Into a cold crock pot, put your onions, peppers and celery, which you've cut to a size about that of a nickel - you want to be able to scoop them up with a spoon or chips when all is said and done, but you want it to have a lot of texture. Dump in the 1/2 can of black beans, the corn and the salsa. Mix it up. Don't worry - it will look like spring-break-in-Tiajuana puke, but it won't stay that way. Add in the broth so it's stew-consitancy and mix it all up.

Coat your chicken breasts all over with the taco seasoning - really pat it on there and make it stick. Then put the breasts into the mixture. Nestle them in there all cozy-like; it doesn't matter if they get covered, You're going to mix it all together, anyway. Set it to however long you need. I did it in 3 hours on my highest setting, but if you want it to take all day, do low and set it for 10 hours.

When you're ready to eat, make some rice, While that's cooking (do 10-minute brown rice), pull out your chicken breasts and tear it into bite-size chunks. Add the chicken back to the bubbly mixture and stir it in. Inhale deeply and revel in your culinary masterpiece - you made Mexican chicken stew and it's going to be heavenly. Or is it more of a gumbo, because it's being served over rice? Whatever - it is divinity in a crock-pot so don't worry about semantics.

Ladle some rice in a bowl, but not too much - you want it drippy and scoop-able. Ladle some of the chicken mixture on top. Crown it with a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkle of green onions and black olives. Stir it all together and scoop up a heaping bite on a tortilla chip. Pop it in. Close your eyes. Savor. Enjoy.

Coming home today

2009-03-25T07:37:00.002-04:00

Just wanted to let you all know my mom had surgery yesterday and she came through it wonderfully - she didn't lose her vision as they thought she might, and didn't get as sick from the anesthesia as she did from the previous procedure.

She had her final procedure last night and will probably come home by this afternoon. Wow. Brain surgery one day, home the next. Doctors are truly amazing.

As are you girls. I told my mom I had a fleet of ladies working on prayers for her, and it really, really helped my mom feel better. Me, too. I am actually going back to work today. I don't know what I'll be able to get done, but there is no need to drive to PA today, so back to the grind it is.

I can't thank you enough for the kind works of encouragement and all of your support and humor. I will check in with all of your blogs soon and will get back to you in short order. Promise!

Thanks again.

Asking

2009-03-21T22:26:00.003-04:00

I have been thinking about you girls since Friday afternoon. I wanted to post and then felt like a Class A douche for thinking of you and then felt like an ass for feeling needy ... to much thinking, too little sleep. Too much worry. Very jumbled. I know you'll understand.

At noon on Friday, I got a call at work from Lee saying my dad had called him (this is the way things are done in my family - call a million people to get a hold of one person to convey a important information) because my mom was in the hospital.

She found out she has stenosis, which is too complicated to get into but the gist of it is she's "a ticking time bomb" according to her neurologist and probably has an aneurism in her brain. As soon as the docs realized this, they had her admitted to the hospital, so a doctor's appointment for a headache turned into a neurological event in about an hour. As an aside, I don't even know if aneurisms can be anywhere other than your brain, so I don't know if it's redundant to say "brain aneurism." And this is why I feel like a douche, because I get so nervous about what's going on in her brain that I begin analyzing the details and can't get past them to deal with the actual issue at hand.

At least I know my methods of avoidance.

Anyway, she is doing fine as far as the brain is concerned, she is just a basket case because doctors have told her she has "a time bomb" in her brain and then have not done anything to remove it. Her blood pressure is through the roof so they won't do any procedures on her, plus there are people in the hospital worse off than her, so they keep getting pushed ahead of her.

Needless to say, my whole fam is freaked, my poor Mommy is beside herself, and I am immobilized with fear.

So I have been thinking about you - the Blog Girls - because I know you'll rally around and make me feel stronger. And I realize that's selfish because I'm not the one sitting alone in a hospital room, unable to sleep and freaked about what's going on in my brain, but I'm feeling very scattered and spazzy and need a little pep talk. For me. For my mom. For all of us. Please.

Sweater Puppets

2009-03-13T21:03:00.003-04:00

My boobs were so big today. Seriously, I looked like one of Fonzie's girlfriends. All I was missing was the poodle skirt.

Weaning stinks.

I feel like I took a dozen Chuck Norris roundhouse kicks to my ta-tas.

I only let Cameron nurse once yesterday- the 6 PM, "Feed me or I freak" session where he simultaneously nurses and does yoga on my lap. You should see the contortions he gets himself into.

Last night bedtime was kind of sad - I chased him until he was delirious (around 9:30) took him upstairs with a sippy cup and he was out in 20 minutes with not one tear. This morning was Ok - I distracted him with the bear that sings "Shout" and we danced all over the living room and kitchen while I stripped him out of his jammies, got the diaper changed and got him dressed for school. There were some tears, but they were mostly sleepy, "what the heck are you doing, lady?" type tears which were easily assuaged with an organic waffle and a sippy cup of milk.

It was a long freaking day. I actually hand-expressed milk in the ladies' room, which was just about as glamourous as it sounds. Needless to say, I was yanking my sweater off as soon as I walked though the door this evening and just about flung my boob into the kid's mouth. We were both relived to find ourselves in the familiar snuggle.

Weaning stinks.

Chicken Pot Pie is good for you

2009-03-11T07:34:00.002-04:00

If you wish to be inundated with shortcuts and ideas for baby-feeding and pot-roast making, read the post below. For an amazing, yummy cozy chicken pot pie recipe, read this (but be warned - this is from memory...I think I remembered all the steps):

Family-style chicken pot pie

You will need:

3 large chicken breasts
2 carrots, peeled (if you're the type to peel carrots) and cut into coins
(quarter or cube them if you're going to feed this to a baby to avoid a choking hazard)
1 onion, chopped into pieces about the same size as your carrots
1 clove garlic, minced
Fresh thyme, about a teaspoon, or a bunch still on their stems tied together with kitchen twine
1 red pepper, chopped same size as above
1/2 c frozen peas (or break up a few frozen string beans into pieces if you have them and no peas)
approx 2 c whole milk
1/3 c vermouth, Marsala or sherry (but NOT "cooking" sherry or anything from the salad dressing aisle. Real booze. If you don't like cooking with wine, use chicken stock. But you're missing the best part)
1 or 2 tbspns flour
1 tspn corn starch, mixed with 2 tbspns cold water and mixed into a slurry with no lumps
Olive oil

Season the chicken with salt, pepper and garlic powder. Heat about 2 tbspns of olive oil in a heavy-duty pot with a lid over medium heat. When the oil is hot, sear the chicken until it is golden brown and delicious. Let it sit for a good long time to avoid tearing the meat when you flip it. It may stick a little bit, but don't fuss with it. When you flip the meat, give it another minute or two to cook, then shut off you flame and quickly pour in the alcohol. Turn your flame back on. Rustle the chicken around in the wine to release any stuck bits from the bottom of the pot. Remove the chicken to a plate. Don't worry if it's not cooked all the way - it's going to be cooked again.

Toss the veggies and thyme into the pot and saute them quickly, just until they start to get brighter in color and a bit softer. You may need to add more olive oil. Definitely add more salt and pepper.

OK, here's the part where a "real" cook probably has a better technique, but this is how I do it. Sprinkle the veggies with the flour and mix it all together. It will look like a terrible mistake. Keep stirring and cooking. You want to be able to scrape the mess off of the bottom of the pan, but it will be a sticky mess. If it starts to burn, splash in some more wine (cautiously turning off the flame, so as to avoid igniting your face in a freak flair-up). When you've got the veggies coated in the flour mess and it's cooked for about 2 minutes or so, begin splashing in your milk, about 1/2 cup at a time. You're trying to prevent lumps without smashing your veggies, so do a little bit at first, all the while stirring, stirring, stirring. Once it's moved from being a mess to being a paste, add more milk. If it gets to the point that you think it's too thin, add the corn starch slurry you made and keep stirring.

Let this cook away until it starts to bubble, but don't let it boil. Covering the pot will speed this along.

While that's happening, tear your chicken into hearty, rustic looking pieces that will fit on a soup spoon. (As an aside - and I think I've said this over and over - you can chop the chicken and cook it in cubes, or cube the chicken after it's cooked, but I hate chicken cubes and avoid them at all costs. I find them totally unappetizing.)

When your mixture is slowly bubbling, fish out the now gross-looking bundle of stems (if you used that method) and add in the chicken and any juices collecting on the plate. Stir them in.

Pour this whole glorious mess into a corningware dish and top with a Pillsbury pie shell by kind of pinching the dough to the rim of the dish (don't hate me, Chrissy ... but this is a savory dish. Not a "pie" kind of pie). Pop a few vent slits into the top of the crust.

Place the dish onto a cookie sheet and bake it according to the Pillsbury dough directions until it's golden and delicious.

I suggest you also brush the top of the dough with olive oil and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese before baking, too. So, so good. This will feed men, babies, mommas, wifies, close friends and neighbors. It will keep them warm and happy all evening. Seriously - everyone should have someone make them a pot pie.

Hey, good lookin' ...

2009-03-09T19:48:00.002-04:00

Let's take care of some business, shall we?

The first section below is for moms who are looking for some ideas on how to get toddlers interested in finger foods. Just a quick run-down of what I give Cam and some strategies I have for getting him to enjoy eating.

The second section below is a recipe - I think it's gluten-free enough to help out Kristen.

Sara - I am more than happy to share some solid-food ideas with you! We started giving Cam anything off of our plates that he showed an interest in and was soft enough for him to get down without getting frustrated or gagging on. Mashed potatoes were one of the first things we gave him as we moved from home-made pureed food to stuff with more texture. We eat sweet potatoes all the time, so he's just started getting his own serving. He always loved pureed sweet potatoes, but the different texture made them so interesting to him.

Another big jump that we made was giving Cam grilled cheese sandwiches. I'd make a regular old grilled cheese, let it cool and then cut it into tiny cubes he could pick up. I started him off with whole-wheat bread with no grains or seeds in it and just used regular old American cheese slices.

Cam also loves roasted red peppers. I buy them in a jar (make sure they have the skins removed) and let him eat them right off his tray. I also mash and mix the red peppers into just about everything else he eats - mac and cheese, pasta and sauce... I even spread mashed red peppers onto his turkey quesadillas. He loves them, and they are so good for him!

I make all kinds of pancakes for him - banana, blueberry, zucchini... whatever I have around. I sprinkle flax seed in the batter to make it healthy for him (since I also top them with syrup, which isn't so healthy). And I don't always make my own pancake batter, either - I found this product called "Batter Blasters" which is pre-made organic pancake batter. It's in a spray can, like Redi-whip. It's in the egg section of the grocery store. I heart it. It doesn't make the fluffiest pancakes, but Cam doesn't know the difference and I can make him a hot breakfast every day in about 3 minutes.

And when I make soup, I give him the solids separate in a bowl and let him drink the broth out of a cup. The Italian Wedding Soup I made was great for this: pasta, meat balls, carrots, greens, potato.... And he flipped over being given a drink from a cup. he was so happy about it.

I give him carrot cubes, which I chop up and steam until they're almost mushy but still retain their shape. And this may sound crazy, but Cam loves roasts. I've made a couple different roasts in the past few months and he goes bananas over them. I think it's easy for him to eat because I cook it in the crock pot all day and the meat gets falling-apart-tender and the juice is really delicious. I've made pork in the slow cooker and beef pot roasts and every time, he goes nuts. And I'm kind of in the same boat - I get Cam home from school at 6 and he's ravenous. Usually I nurse him and that takes the edge off, but I'm trying to wean him, so I have to have a new routine. I think the crock pot is it.

I've come home, popped the lid off of the pot and just stood there, picking tasty bits of juicy beef off of the roast and letting Cam gorge on it and he's in heaven. If you throw some potatoes in there, too it's a whole meal you can have in front of her as soon as you get her coat off.

I also give Cam stir-fry. The only thing I'm still a little wary of is the skins on the peppers, but he could probably handle them now. he loves it - chicken, zucchini, carrots, onions, string beans, rice... he eats them all. I just zap his in the micro for an additional 30 seconds or so to make sure that his food is softer than what we eat.

And I can't say enough good things about rotini. Cam actually wasn't that interested in pasta, until I got whole wheat organic rotini - he must like that shape for some reason. But I use organic sauce and I mash probably a quarter cup of roasted red peppers in the sauce. With the veggified meatballs, it's a really healthy meal that he eats all on his own, with no tantrums or anything. I cut each rotini in half and he is on his own.

If he starts to get fussy before he's eaten enough, I give him a spoon to hang onto. He'll hold it in his left hand and eat with his right. And occasionally, he'll scoop food with the spoon, or place food on it and eat it. I think he likes to be in control and the spoon is a great way for him to feel like he's in charge.

I am obsessed with getting my weekly meals planned out ahead of time, so I have just started doing the same for Cam. When I make his lunch at night, I make an extra half a sandwich or quesadilla to have ready in the fridge for when we get home from school. All I need to do is give it 10 seconds in the micro to warm up, and he's got something to eat while I empty the bags, let
the dog in, wash my hands... stuff like that.

And for what I've been cooking lately ... I'm back to the crock pot again. I can't help myself - it's so easy, requires no additional fat and makes food that we all can eat with very little fuss or clean-up.

Fool-proof pot roast:
1 3-lb or so pot roast meat (chuck is good, but I use bottom-round. Don't buy a fancy, expensive cut - you're braising it, so it would be a waste of money)
5 garlic cloves
1 onion (yes, I feed Cameron food with garlic and onions in it. Alli - don't lump me in with that crazy woman from your twins' group. I don't want a picky eater. There are no taboo foods in our house.)
about 10 button mushrooms, quartered
1 bunch oregano, about 3 tablespoons, minced; garlic powder; pepper, and a teenie weenie bit of cumin all mixed together (or a packet of onion soup mix)
handful of baby carrots
3 red potatoes, quartered
2 cups of no sodium beef broth

Trim the roast to remove any large clumps of fat, but don't go crazy trying to get every last bit off. Slice your garlic cloves into slivers - not wimpy little paper-thin pieces, but not huge chunks, either. Randomly pierce the pot roast with a paring knife and insert the garlic slivers, pushing them into the meat. Slather the meat with the garlic powder, pepper and the tiny bit of cumin. If I don't particularly care about sodium that day, I would use a packet Onion soup mix for this. In fact, I've done that before and it was AWE-SOME! But, if you're cutting back on salt ... don't use the packaged soup. Let the meat sit for about 30 minutes or so so the spices soak into the meat.

Remove both ends from the onion, cut it into wedges and sprinkle them into the bottom of the crock pot. Pop in the carrots and mushrooms. Place the roast on top, add the oregano on top of that, add in the broth, toss in any left over garlic you couldn't jam into the roast, set to low (10 hours) and off you go to the races.

When I get home from work, I crank my oven to 400, fish the roast out of the broth, pop the potatoes into a shallow baking dish, toss with olive oil garlic cloves and a little oregano if I have any left and roast until they get crispy on top - about 20 minutes. You could also cook them in the crock pot, but I don't know if they would get crispy in the oven after cooking
all day in the broth and the crispiness of the potatoes is kind of integral to my enjoyment of the whole meal, so I've never risked it.

I also make a quick gravy out of the broth by heating 1 tbspn of olive oil with 1 tbspn of flour and making a roux. I cook the roux for a bit then begin splashing in broth until I get the consistency of gravy that I want. You could just as easily serve it with the broth and call it "pot roast au jus" and feel very French about it. Once the pot roast has rested a bit (minus the little bits you've pulled off to feed the baby and taste-test yourself) serve it with the carrots, crispy potatoes, mushy onions and gravy.

Oh. Man. That's a long post. More later. Promise.

Snow day! (And an update) (and yet another update)

2009-03-02T13:03:00.005-05:00

Work and daycare were cancelled today due to the weather - so me and the monster are at home. He just went down for his nap and I'm going to race around all frantic-like and try to get some stuff done. I'm hoping I can get three meals prepped in the next hour - that would be such a huge help during the week!

Guess I better get marinating ...

UPDATE: I managed to get chicken and veggie stir-fry made for us to take to work as lunches; two steaks rubbed down and sealed in the seal-a-meal, and a pot roast, also rubbed down with spices and sealed up in the seal-a-meal. I made Cam a batch of whole wheat rotini and organic pasta sauce that I doctored up with extra roasted red peppers and green beans, I made the steaks as well as roasted potatoes and sauteed string beans for us for dinner and shredded zucchini and carrots to mix in with meat balls for Cam, which I am making tonight. Most. Productive. Nap. Ever.

I am going to be eating a lot of the stir-fry in the coming weeks: I gave up cheese again for Lent. It is so hard - cheese is in everything! But, that's why it's worth doing - plus, if history is any indication, I'll lose a few lbs, too.

UPDATE #2: I took the stirfry to lunch two days in a row, saving me about $10 for lunch. And on Tuesday night I made the "veggified" meatballs and we've had that with ziti two nights in a row ... and this morning before I got in the shower, I tossed the potroast into the crock pot - it will be ready when I get home from work tonight. WOW - I feel like my old self!

Some new recipes coming soon ...

This week

2009-02-27T07:32:00.002-05:00

Feb 26 was a big day for me - it marked 1 year I was back from maternity leave. The whole year just flew by - I can't believe Cam is over a year old, let alone I've been working for most of it.

This week is also a milestone because it marked the first week I didn't pump at the office. I had it with me, but didn't use it - even though Monday at 3:30 - when the nurse's office was closed and I had no where to pump - I was in the ladies' room hand-expressing into the loo. Not cool. BUT... that was the worst day.

I didn't plan to stop pumping this week, but my boss is in town and it's all meetings, meetings, meetings. My normal routine is off. And since I don't need the breast milk for bottles anymore (I began introducing organic cow milk weeks ago, an ounce at a time) the pumping was only for comfort, anyway. I think we turned a corner and probably I won't even need to bring it with me next week.

Cam still nurses when he wakes up and when we get home from school in the evenings, but the nighttime one was actually the easiest to get rid of - despite what everyone said. It's the AM one that is going to give me the most trouble.

Anyway... this monumental week is coming to a close, so I just wanted to say, "hey" and tell you to have a great weekend. We are helping Uz and Coach move on Saturday and then were roped into having dinner with Greg and Barb on Sunday. I'm sure I'll have a heaping helping of drama with a side of gripe on Monday!

Love Day

2009-02-14T14:59:00.003-05:00

Wishing all of you wonderful ladies a fun and romantic St. Valentine's Day! Even if you don't do the whole cards and candy routine, I hope you get at least one long, lingering passionate kiss today!

And Rachel - if you read this - I need help with your blog. I've been trying for days to leave you a comment and have failed on every attempt. I can't believe what's going on with Parker, and have wanted to tell you I've been thinking of you and am so relieved that everything is looking up for him. I feel terrible that I haven't been able to reach out to you while all of this was going on! Please let me know what I'm doing wrong - I get to the "post a comment" link and nothing happens!

2009-02-03T21:31:00.001-05:00

As much as I think it's crummy, I am not going to say anything to Barb, Greg and Uz about how my feelings have been hurt. I'm just going to "bump" them from the inner circle, to an outer circle. Their radius just got a bit longer. It's not worth the drama that would ensue - the e-mails, the "can we talks?," the tears - all coming from Barbie, mind you - that would follow. I know how this type of deal goes down with her: You start out trying to tell her how you're upset, and then you spend the next month and a half trying to make her feel better because she's such a baby she can't deal with anyone criticizing her or being mad at her. It gets all twisted around and I just don't want to end up apologizing to her when I am the one who has been slighted. I have already begun mending the wall, so to speak. All of my fellow snobby poetic elitists, say it with me now, "Good fences make good neighbors."

In an effort to stop feeling sorry for myself, I registered with the Lupus Foundation and scheduled a pick up of donated items and clothing. I then sent an e-mail to the girls asking them if they had anything they wanted to donate. I gave them the date and told them they could leave their things at my house for pickup. So far, Barb has responded and since Uz is moving into a new house this weekend and the next, she is sure there will be stuff to donate. When she'll get it here, I don't know. I am wondering now if she and Coach are coming to the party. She said from the outset that she was pretty sure they would be able to, but with the move, she wasn't 100%. So, I asked her yesterday (she and Barbie were e-mailing and cc'ing me on the messages) if she was coming and - surprise, surprise - all of the e-mail communication from them to me stopped.

If she and Coach couldn't come, it wouldn't really be that big of a deal - like I said, I knew they had a busy month and could possibly have to be at their house to unpack or whatever. But really? She sent me about 20 e-mails in the two hours prior to my question, and although my replies to her were few, I did offer to help them pack and move and watch Phi for them while they were busy. And then while Uz was saying that she wasn't sure if they were going to need us on the 13th or 14th, I said, "Are you going to make it to Lee's party on the 21st?" and all communication stopped. And that was at 2:30, so there were 2.5 more hours in the day. yet I didn't hear from Uz or Barbie for the rest of the afternoon.

So, I don't know who is coming to this party now. But I know I'm getting a sitter and having a fun time, whether it's a lot of us or just a few. I get out so rarely, I'm not going to pout the one time I do.

Also - in addition to Lee working late due to his company's end-of-year chaos, one of his coworkers fell and broke her foot, rendering her unable to drive. So now she is having her father drive her to our house in the morning and Lee is taking her with him to work. With a pit-stop at the daycare to drop off Cam. So, in addition to having general craziness in our house in the evenings now, I have to have the place ready for an invalid guest in the morning.

I actually am looking forward to it, though. It's a motivator. Last night I had the sink empty and cleaned, all of the dishes put away, the table cleared, counters cleared, Cam's lunch packed, my pump cleaned and packed and all of the laundry folded and brought upstairs. His toys were put away and it looked very tidy. I also got up earlier than usual, brushed my teeth and hair and put on a warm-up suit so I wasn't in my jammies. I got out the coffee maker incase she wanted coffee and made Cam's breakfast before he got up. Then I roused him, got him nursed, washed and dressed then brought him downstairs and got him fed - all before 7:15. Lee was able to get showered and dressed without interruption and we were totally ready for Shannon to arrive. Until we saw Cam pushing out what turned out to be a monster poo. So, upstairs we dashed fora quick diaper change before they all dashed off to work. Shannon didn't even make it into the house - she went right from her dad's car into Lee's car, which was warmed up and running, and out Lee came with the baby and away they went!

Tonight I"m going to pack my work clothes into a gym bag and put on a sports bra when I get into my sweats. Then, when the boys leave for work, I'll be right behind them - off to the gym! I can get a workout in, finally, and then get showered and dressed at the gym. Even better - the gym is my office gym, so I'll already be there. I am super-psyched. This good deed Lee is doing is going to help us all.

With the thoughts of a well-planned morning and a work-out ahead of me, I am already in good spirits, despite the friend situ. I am just going to get over it and move on. To the elliptical!

Jilted

2009-02-01T13:31:00.003-05:00

Here's a little time-line for you:

Jan. 8 - I e-mailed Barb to say that I was going to throw Lee a birthday party at a local bowling alley (lame, I know, but what he wanted) and when were they available, because I wanted to make sure they could be there. February is Lee's company's end-of-year close-out month, so he works every day, 12 hours a day. In order to have a party for him, he would have to let his boss know the date ahead of time since it's kind of an "all hands on deck" scenario. We picked the 21st because Barb said they were available.

Jan 12 - I booked the lanes, put down the deposit, sent out an e-mail to Uz and Barb giving them the date as locked-in and asking for e-mail addresses for a few of our friends, since I wanted to send an e-vite.

Jan 15 & 16 - Tried to do the e-vite from work, but my company's firewall prevented me. I even called Barb for tech support, since I knew she'd done e-vites before. She couldn't help me, so I had to wait for another opportunity to do it.

Jan 28 - I sent Barb an e-mail saying, "This stupid e-vite is giving me such a hard time! I can't figure it out - I'm just going to send a regular e-mail." And she responded, "Oh, crap. What's the date again?"

Yeah - she made plans to go to Connecticut that day to help her sister and brother-in-law move furniture. So they're not coming. "Sorry," she goes, "When is Lee's actual birthday? We'll have you guys over for dinner one night."

Seriously? Is she kidding me? I can't even get into how pissed I am at her. But let's just say that back in August, I got a lengthy and guilt-laden e-mail chastising me and Lee because we didn't put enough effort into attending her and Greg's parties. Like, "This has been bothering me for a while now and if I don't say something I wouldn't be able to live with myself." That kind of e-mail. Yeah. She reamed me a new butt-hole because Lee only went to 1/2 of Greg's bachelor party (because we didn't have the money to have him go golfing and drinking all day, then take a tour bus down to Camden to see an Alman Brothers concert. And also because we were putting effort into spending more time together).

This was also during The Great Depression, which have hinted at occasionally here but haven't gotten into. Basically, Lee and I had a very rough patch over the summer. I actually confided to Barb FIVE DAYS before this e-mail was sent. Finally broke down in tears and told her how bad everything had gotten and really had an all-out melt-down, literally crying in her arms. And then days later, she dumped that on me: How she felt I was letting her down because Lee and I "blew off" a party. A party we told her from the start we couldn't attend. A party Lee opted out of so that he could spend an evening at home with me and the baby, rather than going out drinking with his buddies - as he had been doing too frequently. She knew that we had legitimate, marital and financial reasons for not attending, yet she still dumped all of that shit on me, knowing how upset and depressed and fragile I was. So, that was shitty. But then to go and be a total hypocrite and just blatantly forget a party for Lee and not even bat an eye at the gall of it? Seriously.

So I forwarded her e-mail to Lee and was like, "Guess they aren't planning on changing their furniture-moving plans, so we won't see them."

He was curious and called Greg and played dumb on the whole thing. So Greg actually said to Lee, "Yeah - looks like we're not going to make it to your party. Trish never got back to us with the date and when she finally did, we'd already made plans."

Again - incredulity. He actually blamed me. To my husband. Lee was like, "Wow. Bummer. Gotta go." He was so shocked, he didn't even say anything to them about how his story is so obviously a lie. We are both kind of at the end of our rope.

As an aside, When I spell-checked this, I was horrified at the number of times the words "shitty", "pissed" and their derivatives came up. What a potty-mouth I am. That happens when I'm pissed. Ooops.

Snowy, icy day

2009-01-28T11:10:00.003-05:00

The now and sleet have passed already... it's just raining now. But the mess this morning was enough to close the daycare, so here I am at home, with the monster. He finally crashed - literally, into the ottoman and onto the floor - so I took that as an indication that maybe today, naptime would be a bit early. He's asleep right now, but I don't anticipate the 2-hour nap the school usually gets. I think maybe I've got 30 minutes. Better get that soup on!

I wanted to answer a question that JenD asked to my 2008 wrap-up post: Sadly, no we aren't trying to conceive. Actually, the opposite. Although we're both eager to have another baby, because of the added expense one would cost, we have to wait. This is Lee's plan, not mine. I'm willing to struggle and be strapped in favor of having another baby, but Mr. Responsible thinks otherwise. Until we both come to a consensus, I won't be getting pregnant. I'm super-bummed. I would love to have kids close in age, the way me and my siblings are, but I'm not going to push it and make having a baby into a debate. It should be a happy event, not a bone of contention.

So, I just wanted to put any worried minds at ease - we're not having trouble in the baby department, we're just being financially cautious - and that's what's got me bummed.

But speaking of babies ... how about an update, Chrissy! It's been like, a whole day since your induction. I'm needing some details, Momma!

Feeling like soup again

2009-01-26T21:10:00.003-05:00

Did I tell you that I made coq au vin a few weeks ago? We had Greg and Barb over for dinner and I'd been craving the dish - it being 10 degrees and all - and I knew they'd be into it, so coq au vin it was.

It didn't disappoint - wine-y and bacony with plump mushrooms that held their shape and pearl onions that burst sublimely with mellow yumminess. It was even better the next day, after it had time to thicken and for the flavors to marry. I served it over smashed garlic and rosemary roasted new potatoes, because, you know - why not saturate the most heavenly food with the most decadent food and call it a day?

I bring this up now - weeks later - for two reasons: #1 I am again getting the craving for a "cold-weather meal" the requirements of which are: Must come in a bowl, must include bacon and must benefit from a dollop of sour cream. I'm thinking about inventing my own recipe for white bean soup. And reason #2 That meal marks the last time I saw Greg and Barb. You see, I think they're over us. And I'm equal parts frustrated and sad.

Maybe "frustrated" isn't the best word, but "mad" isn't accurate, either. it's kind of somewhere in the middle, but so nebulous and vague that it's hard to describe. I think they're just over us. We have a house (and house-associated bills), a baby, school, assorted marital responsibilities and stresses and whatnot ... and they're newlyweds. I think - and this is totally just my paranoid perception - they think we're a drag. I think we depress them. I think maybe we're not fun enough any more. I know we've been replaced by another couple - Paul and Lori. Paul is Greg's brother and Lori was a friend of a friend to Barbie, and she introduced the two. Where we used to have a standing "Saturday night date" with G&B, now it's understood that they have plans with Paul and Lori. I'm a little irked - I mean, we can't afford to go out like we used to, because in addition to not being able to afford the same restaurants and bars, we also can't drink as much or stay out as late (baby gets up at 5 no matter what we did the night before) and we have to pay for a baby-sitter each time we go. At $15/hr, the only girl I'd trust to leave Cam with is pricey, so we have to be discriminating on when we use her.

I mean, I understand that maybe we're not the barrel of laughs that we used to be, but don't you kind of weather the storm with your friends, instead of bailing on them? I don't know - I guess I just have that "he's just not that into you" feeling from them.

This pity-post was brought on today by an e-mail I received from Barbie in which she said, "We saw Coach and Uz at Ben and Coco's on Saturday and I was thinking we could all get together this Saturday - are you available?"

And I just kind of thought, "Sounds like everyone already got together and we weren't invited." I mean, I don't need a consolation visit, you know? Like... "Oh, it's been three weeks, we should probably find out what Lee and Trish are up to." And they all draw straws to find out who has to invite us over. Maybe I'm just being a bitchy paranoid loser, but that's how I feel today.

Luckily, we already have plans - with Bones and the Cajun and another couple. I was relieved. I would have felt pathetic had I scrambled to accept her offer. I felt kind of vindicated. But again... why am I acting and feeling like that? I need to just keep my mouth shut and convince myself it doesn't bother me to be bumped out of the top spot. If I'm being replaced, I need to fade away gracefully!

Oh, man ... I wrote this at work and - now that I look at it - it's really pathetic. But I'm posting it anyway because don't we all need to be pathetic every now and again?)

2008 Survey

2009-01-13T09:43:00.003-05:00

It's still January, so even though I'm late, I still have time to get this survey in. And although the entire year was a blur, I'll try my best to be accurate!

2008 in review

1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before? Bought diapers.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I kept my NY resolutions - yay! They were, "lose the baby weight; nurse for at least 6 months (still going at 13 months); smile at my little bro's wedding and work on the house."

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Yes. Heck, yes - it was a baby bonanza: Uz, Alli, Christel, Marisa, Lu... I'm sure I'm forgetting some. A lot of my friends are expecting this year, too.

4. Did anyone close to you die? Yes, my Uncle Dennis.

5. What countries did you visit? Zip. Poor me. Doesn't look like I'll be
doing any international travel in '09 either.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008? A financial windfall; a fresh coat of paint in the living room; a few days - uninterrupted - with a belt sander; bi-weekly pedicures; dinner out with Lee once a month at least, and a trip to the dentist. I'm not asking for much. Except the windfall - I'd like $50 mil please.

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? March 10 - Alex and Oliver born; May 10 - Sophia born; June 6 - cam rolled over; June 7, Cam's first tooth; August 23 - Cam hit his face and I had to take him to the ER; October 10 - Cam's first step; Dec 6 - Cam's first birthday party. Cam Cam Cam. I need to find time for a hobby.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Breastfeeding Cam exclusively for 6 months; introducing him to organic table foods without ever needing to give him formula; making all of my own organic baby food; Losing all of the baby weight and then some without stepping foot in a gym, starving myself or ever feeling bad about myself; getting over the horrendous behavior of my in-laws last year enough to tolerate them without incident this year.

9. What was your biggest failure? Continuing to bang the drum about how inconsiderate my in-laws are. Playing the martyr with Lee with Lee when he acts like a jerk. Occasionally thinking Lee is a jerk.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? No, thankfully.

11. What was the best thing you bought? We got our house in 2007, and everything we bought mostly had to do with that. I guess you could say the kitchen floor was nice ... but we didn't get anything awesome in 2008. It was the year of Fisher Price and spackle. Nothing monumental.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Mine - I smiled at my mother-in-law and convinced her I meant it.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? My MIL; Lee, right around June/July/August; my SIL, Kitty and her daughter and my little bro, for putting up with it and subjecting the rest of the family to it.

14. Where did most of your money go? To a little guy named Cameron and also into our house.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Cameron sleeping in his crib, rolling over, Alex and Oliver being born, Project Runway, Butter brickle ice cream.

16. What song will always remind you of 2008? American Tune, by Paul Simon.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? happier
b) thinner or fatter? way, way thinner
c) richer or poorer? Richer - I feel I've grown and become more appreciative of what I have and I've become closer with my friends and family and more willing to express myself to them. Also, I feel richer because my first year of home-ownership is over and I know we can make it. Same for first year with baby: We did it, and we know we can survive.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Taken more pictures of me with Cam, instead of me behind the camera; spent more time alone with Lee; traveled more - gone places hither and yon.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Worry about money and apologize for things I wasn't really sorry for the sake of ending an argument.

20. How did you spend Christmas? With my family, being a little bit sad that we're grown up. I spent Christmas trying to make it as magical a time for Cam as I now realize my parents made it for me.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008? Yes. In addition to adding new dimensions to the love I have for Lee, I really fell in love with Cameron. It's funny how when babies are born, as the mother, you instantly love them and protect them and nurture them ... but as you get to know them, you really start to love them in a new, more aware way. It's not just out of reflex, it's because the little stranger becomes family.

22. What was your favorite TV program? Lost, Project Runway, Top Chef.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Nope -I actually like some people that I didn't like this time last year.

24. What was the best book you read? I didn't read any books of note, but I love love love www.smittenkitchen.com.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? More like a re-discovery. NKOTB.

26. What did you want and get? A rocking chair for the nursery; new undies. Like I said, it was a sparse year!

27. What did you want and not get? Another baby; a bathroom remodel; bedroom furniture; a vacation; a trip to NC to meet Alex and Oliver.

28. What was your favorite film of this year? Dude. Go to the movies? I don't think so. If I get out of my house, I'm not going to squander the opportunity by sitting in silence in a dark room for 3 hours. A movie that I watched about 100 times this year was Love Actually.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I didn't do anything for my birthday and I didn't get any presents. And it bothers me, even though I always say, "We're not birthday people." I turned 31 and it passed with barely a blip.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Stumbling on a duffle bag full of hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008? "Mommy chic."

32. What kept you sane? 3 Musketeers bars, Allison, listening to Gary Jules on Sunday mornings.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? I heart Bear Grylls.

34. What political issue stirred you the most? It's a local hot-topic: mandatory vaccinations for children attending schools in Jersey - the government disregarding the wants of the parents. I am now an activist. It's official.

35. Who did you miss? My uncle, Allison, Christel, the more fun version of me - Trish circa 2002.

36. Who was the best new person you met? Sophia. Because she will be my daughter-in-law one day, and I will be able to tell her I loved her from the start.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008. No matter how bad you think you've screwed up, if the kid is warm, dry and full of milk at the end of the day, you did a good job.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

" Oh, and it's all right, it's all right, it's all right.

You can't be forever blessed.

Still tomorrow's gonna be another working day,

and I'm trying to get some rest.
That's all I'm trying to get some rest."

The short list

2009-01-04T16:38:00.002-05:00

As for what resolutions I've decided on ... I've decided to make it a mish-mash of a few different items:

1. Correspondence - I'm going to write one real letter on actual stationary once a month. A different letter to a different person each month. I think there is nothing better than getting a personalized letter in the mail; I'll see if anyone else I know feels the same way.

2. Bleach wipes - I'm not going to be able to do it every time I'm in the loo, but if I clean something - the sink, toilet, bathtub, grungy floor corners, mirror, etc. - every day, I won't have to de-funk every weekend. So, I'll clean one thing well every day.

3. Flax - Did I touch on this before? Well, prior to getting pregnant, Lee and I were good for two, maybe three fish meals per week. Dinners chock full of omega 3 fatty acids. Since being pregnant and on high alert for mercury and subsequently short on meal prep time, our fish dinners have fallen off. I notice the negative impact this has had on my skin, hair, nails and general well-being. I need those acids, man! So, I'm going to take another step toward being granola and begin sprinkling ground flax seed into everything I eat. It's super-nutritious and should help bridge the gap that's developed in my diet.

4. Pedicures- Because every girl needs to do something for herself without thinking about how much it costs or how many minutes away from her family it may add up to. Mommies need time to be ladies, and pedis are the perfect treat. Once a month. That's an order.

Hope your New Year's Eve was better than ours. Actually - I take that back - ours was fine. We were in bed and asleep by 10:30, but that's just what we wanted to do, so it was great. Here's to 2009 - May it be our best year yet!

Potential New Year's Resolutions: #4 - Take the time

2008-12-30T12:49:00.002-05:00

Thirty-one PTO days. Thirty-one! That's more than six weeks of paid time off that I am given each year by my company. You know how many vacations I've taken since I've been there? Three - and one of them was my honeymoon. An entire 4 days out of work. Whoop-di-doo. The other two were each 5 days off down the Jersey Shore - and both of those were two years ago. Man. I completely do not get out much, in the vacation sense.

I have so many days off each year that I have to rush at the end of the year to use them up so I don't lose any. (You know you were wondering why I was able to post in the middle of the day! I'm home, silly gooses!) I mean, in one sense, it's a good thing; Cam's daycare is closed for the week and I get to stay home and play SAH mom for a few days. But in another sense... way to squander the time, Trish.

Next year, perhaps I'll allot my PTO days to something more constructive: a long trip back to NC; a tropical vaca with Lee; a spa trip someplace dry and cactusy, or maybe a solo whirlwind trip to places as-yet undetermined. That would be a fun resolution: Making good use of the time I have.

Potential New Year's Resolutions: #3 - Corrospondance

2008-12-29T22:29:00.003-05:00

Technology ... the bane of my existence. If I get one more e-mail from my boss asking me to convert a file from InDesign to hi-res PDF, I'll just cry. Yet, it's technology that allows me to fire off any old thought that crosses my mind for the entire world to see. OK, you got me - for you 25 or so girls to see.

Clearly, there is no escaping technology, but in the New Year, I can choose to fight the tide and revert to ye olde fashioned correspondence: letter writing. How about if I write a letter to a different person ever fortnight (just for the sake of indulging my sense of nostalgic vocabulary)?

That would be a pretty cool exercise. And it would force me to improve my penmanship, too.

Potential New year's Resolutions: #2 Clothes

2008-12-29T20:01:00.002-05:00

I think it would be a great idea to - each night before bed - pick out what I am to wear the following day. No last-minute ironing, no running up and down stairs, digging through laundry baskets to try to find an elusive pair of pants... no "Where is that camisole?" Just a plan: an actual. matching ensemble. It would save time in the morning and at night. Not only would I be able to jump up and get dressed immediately after showering, I wouldn't have to take 20 minutes each night hanging up the cast-away garments that didn't make the cut that day.

Time-savers ... there's a resolution I can live with.

Potential New Year's Resolutions: #1 - Embrace the Bleach Wipe

2008-12-29T16:15:00.004-05:00

I have just a few days left to decide what my NYR will be (I am a BIG believer in the NYR and usually follow through with mine). I have had a few ideas, and since my time for posting is fleeting, I figured I would toss one up whenever I get a free second in front of the computer.

My first - Embrace the Bleach Wipe. A few posts back I wrote about how I was using vinegar to clean, recycling, reducing our garbage output, eating organic, etc ... but I mentioned that I still was using the bleach wipe. I have decided that rather than sweat them as a source of rubbish, I would view them as a way to keep my bathroom from looking like it belonged in the Port Authority. Since I no longer have an hour to dedicate to emptying the contents of the bathroom, scrubbing everything down, rinsing, repeating and shining until it looked like a Tilex commercial, I have instead tried to swipe a bleach wipe across some surface every time I avail myself of the loo. So far today, I have bleach-wiped the sink and faucet, backsplash, toilet (tank, seat, bowl and pedestal), and the floors in front of the tub. Man, I pee a lot. But ... my bathroom looks pretty nice and shiny and smells bleachy and clean. Yay. And I didn't have to dedicate an entire hour to get it that way. If I can clean something in the bathroom every time I visit, I won't have to spend any time on the weekends overhauling the entire room. Score.

This may be my NYR. More to come...

(Rachel ... I got your note, but I can't access your blog anymore - can you send an invite? Thanks!)

Bullets. Well, maybe more than bullets

2008-12-17T07:29:00.010-05:00

Writing a post that would get you up to speed on everything that's happened over the past eight weeks would be as unlikely as me ever finishing The Best Post Ever, so how about if I hit you with a few bullets that touch on the key things that have happened or that I've been thinking about during my Terribly Rude Absence, which I will henceforth refer to as The Power Outage? We'll just pretend the lack of posts was due to a transformer fire, 'kay?

In no particular order, I give you - in the immortal words of Marvin Gaye - what's going on:

1. The invasion has happened. I am surrounded. I am a prisoner in my own house, pissily washing dishes while my home is overrun with Them. My in-laws are here, up from Florida, acting as if A.) Nothing terrible happened last year B.) They are entitled to monopolize time with my son and C.) They are thrilled to have a housekeeper who makes such delicious enchiladas. They deserve a whole post unto themselves. They will be here until after New Year's but for old times sake, let's reflect on Christmas Past.

2. I toss one hell of a fiesta. Twenty-eight hours of straight partying isn't too much for me. Thirty-five people in one tiny house? No problem. Four appetizers, 8 pounds of taco meat, three trays of enchiladas, two quarts of rice, a weeks' worth of baby food, 40 ounces of breast milk, 5 cases of beer, one cactus-shaped cake, one smash cake, a frozen turkey and 10 pounds of ice in one average size fridge? No problem. Cameron's birthday was a Mexican-themed fiesta, and everyone had a grande good time.

It was held the day after Thanksmas, which is The Party of the Season, and the axis on which my entire social calendar revolves upon. I think I gave both parties an equal amount of attention and everyone had a good time from the looks of it.
The fiesta was followed by our sixth annual Thanksmas party, and it was slightly different than previous years: A Friday night, rather than Saturday, and it was cocktails and appetizers, rather than a formal dinner. This year I made roasted asparagus Parmesan prosciutto bites wrapped in puff pastry as well as prosciutto and provolone stuffing bites, which were bitchin' - I made both treats for the following Saturday's G Family Christmas Party, which OWS hosted. Uz made caramelized onion and brie tartlets and bite-sized baked stuffed potatoes. OMG. Barb made figs stuffed with blue cheese wrapped in bacon and also sausage cups. Rick made stuffed mushrooms. Coco brought a turtle cheesecake and Paul brought a fruit tart. There were cocktails aplenty and games. Why do we always play games? Lee put his foot down and refused to play Pictionary. I don't blame him. If I had a 5-year long winless streak, I would be discouraged, too. Instead we played Cranium and we still dominated him. Teams were me, Rick, Ben and Coach vs. Lee, Denny, Sarah and Greg vs. Uz, Coco and Barb. I excel at leisure activities. You may notice Bones and the Cajun were conspicuously absent. Well, that leads me to #3...
3. The Cajun and I are like fricking peas and carrots! Getting prego on your honeymoon will do wonders for your disposition, I guess. Yeah. Pregnant. As in, having a baby. As in, can no longer get drunk and indignant and call me a country-wrecking monster who shouldn't be able to live with herself because of selfish, conservative principles. Ahhh...It's is a breath of fresh air! I am so happy for me. And so happy for Bones and Lee, too - and for me and Bones, because him having a psycho wife who turned into an angry drunk every time she had a glass of wine was really affecting his and my friendship. So, yeah - we get along just fine now. She asked me all kinds of pregnancy questions, which I love to talk about and she shared her dissatisfaction with her OB, so I put her in contact with some midwives I know, referred her to the child birth instructor we used and sha-bam - now she's all, "Can you look at my registry and see if you can think of anything we left off?" And "What kind of breast pump do you use?" She's totally normal - came to Cam's party on Saturday (they had a family engagement that they couldn't get out of, which is why they missed Thanksmas) and hung out and was chatty with everyone. Not a surly look or a sullen pout anywhere. It has been so nice! Although, like any Cajun, you can imagine she's bubbling away just below the surface like a pot of gumbo. I'm not getting matching ID bracelets engraved or anything, it's just nice to not be yelled at anymore.

4. What is with the resurgence of Bret Michaels? I realize I'm a bit behind on this, but really? Bret Michaels? Are those extensions or is the hair just flat-out attached to the starched purple bandanna he's sporting? He looks like a Cornsilk Cabbage Patch Kid. Someone check his tattoos and see if Xavier Roberts signed his butt cheek. Why is a slightly puffy 45 year-old man with - and I'm just guessing here - at last two decades-worth of VD seen as a sex symbol? He totally creeps me out with his collagen lips and fat neck and tight t-shirts and his yellow motorcycle. Where did this come from? Rock of Love makes me feel like I need to speak to the guidance counselor.

4. Na-na na-na na-na na-na, Na-na na-na na-na na-na BATMAN!

5. I went to Target to get kitchen twine (funny how you expect a ball of kitchen twine to last 20 years, and then one day your husband and his brother use it to map out their horseshoe pits and then - wouldn'tyouknowit- you need to buy more kitchen twine) and came home with $2,000 worth of furniture. Flash forward two months: The walls are 90% painted, the trim is 90% complete and the furniture is 100% crap. So pissed. It shows every scratch and has already chipped. Not a good impulse buy. Not to mention Lee and I didn't consider that our totally cool "gathering height" table would require special "gathering height" chairs. So there goes just pulling up a folding chair when we have guests over. I am going to have to have folding chairs custom-made to go with this silly table. But. it is cool looking. Once I get a picture hung on the wall and the stupid curtain made/hung, I will really love my office. I mean the kitchen. But let's be honest, it's more like my office.

6. Cameron pooed oatmeal-looking poo for a week after Thanksgiving. God bless the boy for being such a good eater, but shame on me for letting him eat whatever he wanted. It never changed his disposition - happy as ever -but the poo was so alien, I almost took a picture of it to post for your viewing pleasure.

7. Biggest Loser was awesome this season. I despise Vicky. Who's with me? And the fact that Bob is so willing to tolerate her hatefulness makes me like him less. But, let's be honest, Jillian has always been the better trainer. Bob is probably willing to put up with anything at this point if it meant getting a winner on the scale. I was thrilled that Michelle won. I sing the theme song to myself as I stand in front of the vending machine at work, and about 30% of the time it's enough to get me to walk away without getting anything. What have you done today to make you feel proud?

8. As mentioned above, the G Family Christmas Party was two weekends ago. I was equal parts excited and filled with dread. The dread had several causes, all stemming back to the death this past March of My Uncle Dennis. Not only was it the first Christmas party without him, there is much drama stemming from his illness and subsequent passing. In a nutshell, he got sick and he and his wife threw in the towel. No second opinion, no cancer specialists, no treatments, etc. They also cut off the rest of the family in an informational sense: No one was given any updates on his health, visitors were asked to leave the house... basically there was an information blackout. No one really got to say good-bye because no one was aware of just how dire it was for him. A lot of resentment exists over it, toward Tee, Den's wife, and Dalmo his younger son. Bri, his older son and wife were sort of neglected in the whole process, too and the rest of the family (my dad is the oldest of 7 kids, so there are a lot of aunts, uncles, cousins and babies) has really rallied around them. So, Tee, Dalmo (which isn't his name, just a funny nickname he's had since infancy) and his wife were at the party ... and I know that the other Brothers and my Aunt (who was barred from seeing her brother on the day he died) had been stewing with resentment. So, the potential for a scene was pretty high. Fortunately, the presence of new babies (three in the past year) cheered everyone and we were able to put the sadness and hurt behind us. I hope the family - which has always been THE FAMILY - can move on and remember the 52 years of good times, rather than focusing on the last year of his life.

9. My soda consumption is raging out of control. With no exaggeration, I can tell you that over one-third of my daily calorie total comes from soda. That is so bad. I have a coke for breakfast, a coke and a salad for lunch and then two more glasses (plus a few "top offs") once I get home from work, right up until bed. I eat 1200 to 1400 calories a day, and with 4 12-oz servings totalling 560 calories ... I am not only stock-piling calories that I will eventually have to work extra-hard to shed, I'm also rotting away my teeth. I didn't get to the dentist in Nov like I planned, which bums me out. The soda is going to start making me pack on weight, too. I weighed myself yesterday at the nurse's office after I pumped and I came in at 127, with clothes and shoes on. Can we call that 125? I could probably lose 3 pounds in a week if I just stopped drinking soda. I think it's time. I hate the feeling that I can't do something, or can't stop doing something, so I think that this can (which I opened when I slid the final tray of cookies into the oven) will be my last. At least for a while.

10. (Once I get this done, I'm ending this little list) Sarah, my best friend from high school, has joined Facebook. And apparently I'm the last person on earth to join. I really don't want to. I am friends with the people I want to be friends with. I don't really want to reconnect with people who mean so little to me that I let their friendship fall by the wayside, you know? Or who valued my friendship so little that I was let go by the wayside. I am thinking of a particular person. I don't want to reconnect with her, and I know that I will be placed in the awkward situation of having to "ignore" her if I go onto that site. Just don't want to address it.

So that's it - a few tasty tidbits. More meaty post coming soon.

In the land of the living

2008-12-05T08:03:00.003-05:00

Oh dear. My absence is just appalling. And it's not for lack of material. There is so much going on. Tonight, for instance, is Thanksmas. That's actually why I'm able to post right now - I took off from work to prepare. Yes, I took off from work to get ready for a party. Even more indulgent - I took off yesterday, too.

But that's because I have Cameron's birthday party tomorrow. Yes - two parties in the span of 24 hours. What was I thinking when I scheduled this? I certainly wasn't banking on my house being such a disaster, that's for sure.

There are plenty of things for me to write about, things I've been doing and things I've been thinking, but it's already past 8 o'clock, and the clock is ticking. I need to have this place ready by 4 and not only is it filthy, it's also quasi-decorated for Hallow-giving, instead of Thanksmas. Time to put away the pumpkins and bring out the snowmen.

I only have eight hours to clean and prep. My heart is pounding just sitting here thinking about it. I have gotten so much done around here in the past month, but you aren't caught up on it at all! Man, that's two giant posts I owe the ladies.

Although I haven't been posting, I have been reading your blogs. I can't post replies at work under penalty of something really bad happening, but perhaps once Sunday comes, I'll relax with a leftover taco and get all caught up. That is, if Cameron and Lee let me. They have both been rather high maintenance lately.

Promise not to let another month go by before posting again. Bad Trishie.

This is not the post you've been waiting for

2008-10-25T22:17:00.004-04:00

I can feel your disappointment from here. But the truth is - now I feel like I've got to write a really good post. Like, write it ahead of time, edit it, reread it, edit it again. Like I do at work. And so now this monumental post has become work. And like I've said a million times - I am the queen of procrastination when it comes to work. So I haven't actually written it yet, although you could say I'm "composing" it on a daily basis. It's being crafted it in the way I write all my good stuff - in my head first, then all at once I'll sit down and pound it out, then I'll go back and cut.

But a lot's been going on. First - I had off all week. because Lee and I had a list a mile long of stuff we wanted to get done around the house. So here I sit on Saturday night and you know how many things I've gotten checked off of that list? Zero. However, my fridge is currently sitting in my living room, my stove is in the middle of the kitchen and the floor ... is in a heap in the car port. A kitchen remodel was not in the plan - or the budget - however it seems by 10 tonight, I should have most of the makings of a remodel. Or, a the very least, a face lift: new paint, new floor, new furniture. Same counter (which I like) and cabinets (which I don't). My guest room is still better described as a storage room, my steps look like a puma used them as a scratching post and Cameron's room is still coated in a fine layer of baby powder spackle. But the kitchen is going to be great!

Cameron, that monkey, is walking. He started about 3 weeks ago and yet again I feel the pangs of my maternal inadequacies. Isn't that something I should have written down? The date my baby took his first steps? It was October 3rd I know ... but these types of important dates should really be recorded for posterity in a baby book or something. The blog doesn't count. But lately I have been a real dummy about dates. Allison's birthday was on the 19th and I didn't call her. Like, I still haven't called her. I am the worst best friend.

I'm a pretty bad bloggy friend, too. I need to blog and comment more, I know. I am finding time to do all kinds of things, but the two things I enjoy most - blogging and working out - have been pushed to the back burner because they just take "too much time." But there's always time for the things that bring happiness, so I will just have to analyze my day and study how I spend my time and make sure I prioritize blogging and the gym. Just because they are both things that benefit only me doesn't man they aren't worth doing.

I saw my name make an appearance on a few of your blogs and I am totally going to return the favor. First, though, for your reading enjoyment, I'm going to post some excerpts from an e-mail that I wrote to Chrissy. She had a few questions about Bradley birthing and I rambled on and on. I realized I never really got into it here when I had Cam, but I am still committed to the ideals of the method. So ... as soon as I can find that e-mail, I'll post it below!

OK - here it is:

Your question was: Is Bradley strongly against using pain meds? Well, Bradley doesn't zero-in on pain meds, it's more like they encourage informed decisions. The classes teach you not only how to deal with labor and delivery, as well as breast feeding and infant care, but also how to
talk to your care provider; what questions you should ask. For instance - What are the drugs in an epidural? What effect do they have on the baby's breathing, responsiveness and heart rate? Why would you induce my labor? Why would you give me pitocin? What effect will that have on my labor? Will it help me dilate or just contract? Does it put the baby in distress? Won't
it slow down my labor? If I have an epidural, won't I be more likely to have a c-section?

In some circumstances, interventions are necessary for the health and safety of the mother and child. But all too often (especially here in NJ), drugs and c-sections are used in place of letting nature take its course. 48% of babies born in NJ are born by c-section. That's crazy! C-sections
are major surgery. And most of them happen because of interventions that occurred along the way.

A lot of Bradley is learning how to labor at home, so you can give your body time to decide if it really wants to go into labor or if it is just practicing. It's figuring out what your perfect labor and delivery are like and imagining it, writing it down, talking about it with hubby and provider. It's learning how to relax your muscle groups under extreme duress. It's about learning the specifics of things like Group B strep, episiotomies and forceps. It's a lot of video-watching: About 10 different videos of natural child births. It's just a lot of information so that when you are presented with a doctor saying, "We're going to start you on a pitocin drip" you know that you have the right to say, "Please explain why." And then knowing you can ask the doctor to leave so you and your husband can discuss. Bradley puts you in charge of your labor. And if you decide to move forward with the meds - pain meds, labor meds, whatever - you can feel confident that you made an informed, healthy and necessary decision.

Wow - You'd think my name were Trish Bradley after that! But I really am a very strong proponent of taking control of your body and making healthy decisions. I was not opposed to having medicine administered to me. But the thing was, I wanted to make sure I really needed it, if it were given. If a c-section were in the cards because the baby just wouldn't come out, then
cut away. But my original practitioner said I would probably have a c-section because she didn't like to have women labor - could cause her malpractice insurance to go up. A c-section for the convenience of my doctor was not acceptable to me - especially since I was perfectly healthy
and so was the baby and the pregnancy was completely devoid of complications. That's why I switched to a mid-wife. She made me feel like she would do the best for me and baby - whatever that was. So, if natural were possible, we would pursue that course. If circumstances changed, then we would have to adjust the plan accordingly. We both agreed to that. But
the thing was - we talked about that before hand. We drew up our birth plan together. It would be tough to get a doctor to do that.

Bradley classes are great - if only because they allow you to spend time talking about being pregnant in an environment with other pregnant people. So they can sympathize and are genuinely interested. It is a real support system where you can air your worries and fears, each little excitement, ask questions to moms who have already had kids ... it's awesome. Plus,
it's dedicated time every week to spend with your hubby just talking about what's coming. It makes getting ready for the baby so real. I really think it's worth the time and money (I think my class was $250 but I'll have to check).

Wow. I may post this e-mail on my blog...

I hope I didn't overwhelm you. It's a lot and some people can be very opinionated - on both sides. The trick is to stay focused on the goal - a healthy baby - and to learn everything you can and do everything within your power to make sure you have one.

So, that was the e-mail. Obviously, I am a Bradley enthusiast. And the next time we get are blessed with a pregnancy, we'll take the classes all over again. I definitely think they're worth it.

Still around, but on the run

2008-10-09T07:48:00.003-04:00

It's been a long time since I've posted, but not because nothings going on. Rather, a lot's happened. Good stuff for sure, but so much that I'm busy from 4 AM to 10 PM and then I just fall into bed. I am crafting The Best Post Ever ... I just don't know when it's going to be ready for view. It is monumental.

Also, I am carefully wooing one of my favorite people in all of the universe to start her own blog. I think I'm close. You're going to love it. You'll be shocked, amused, horrified, appalled and excited when you read what regular old days are like for her. I hope it's coming soon.

Anywhoo ... I still need to get in the shower and get out of here. I'm terribly late already. I'll prioritize getting caught up with you all and will pop in by the end of the weekend. I am reading, but I do it at work where I am not allowed to post replies.

Hey - it's Thursday already. Can you believe it? YAAAAAY!

David Byrne, where art thou?

2008-09-19T21:25:00.004-04:00

I've often written about my Talking Heads Moments - where, in brief flashes of clarity, I reflect on the immediate, unglamorous circumstances I find myself in, and the sequence of events that brought me to those moments: Holding a crying baby in one hand while frantically waving a broom under the screaming siren of the smoke detector; sipping my orange pekoe while watching my husband, clad only in his underpants, stare into the dishwasher as he asks me in a perplexed voice, "Is this clean?" It's in these mundane tableaus that I often find myself thinking, "How did I get here?"

The skeptic would say it is in my Talking Heads moments that I allow my mind to form some regret over my life choices. However, I say it's more accurate to admit that I allow myself to see the unintentional humor that surrounds me - or haunts me, which ever you prefer. And lately, my THM have been sardonic explorations of suburban domestic life. Let's be honest, I'm fast approaching my 31st birthday and the chances of me being an international best-selling sensation/secret agent/working mom galore are waning. The likelihood Lee and I will pick up with Cam, abandon our itty-bitty house and move to Marseilles so I can be a pastry chef or to Venice so I can be a glass-blower is very small. And although we talk about moving to Hawaii and renting a tiny apartment on Molokai so Cam can grow up a surfer, we probably won't do it (although I am game).

So, considering this lot is my life, I think I indulge in my THM so that I can explore the deeper meaning in the events of my everyday life. So I can see the beauty that surrounds me. Because otherwise I may just wake up one day and think,"My God, what have I done?"

I bring this up because Wednesday was me and Lee's three-year anniversary. And as I sat on my sofa, eating some crazy toffee and caramel-flavored ice cream for dinner, my son passed out on my lap, still firmly latched on, it occurred to me that many women would just. not. stand for this type of evening on her anniversary. Lee had class and didn't even get home until 8:30. I was in my jammies and had Cam semi-sleeping by then. No fancy restaurant. No flowers. Just me, Lee and a snuggly little bugger holed upon the sofa. But we're not really anniversary people. We're ice cream people. And when my darling handed me that icy-cold pint of yumminess and said, "Happy Anniversary, LBG," that was the start of a perfect evening. And while we were all crammed onto Tiny Sofa I had my latest Talking Heads Moment, and it was a good one. Same as it ever was.

To the dark and empty skies, my love

2008-09-11T07:29:00.004-04:00

Before I went on maternity leave, I took great pains to prepare my workspace for the temp who would be handling my workload while I was out. In addition to purging files, making copious notes and mapping out pathways through the servers, I also removed most of my personal effects. I took down the pictures of me and Lee; me and Allison and the cards my niece and nephew sent me. I also took down the ultrasound photos I kept pinned above my telephone, directly to my right, where I could see them with a casual glance. I placed them in the folder that held my performance review, thinking I would find it in the spring, when year-end review time came about.

Flash forward to 1 PM yesterday afternoon. While searching for my performance objectives, I came across those sepia-toned pictures from the first ultrasound. The alien ghost baby. The dancing gummy bear. My Cameron.

The date of the scan was June 12, 2007, time stamped 10:10 am. That was the first time I saw him - a baby shape, distinguishable. Looking straight at us, waving a little arm that even at that early stage had a chubby clinched fist at the end. "Rock on!"He was saying. He still rocks. Rocks and rolls; smiles and laughs; cries, protests, flirts and snuggles. It's already been over a year that I've had him - that meeting on June 12th was just a glimpse of what was to come. It didn't show his enormous, clear blue eyes or his stubborn chin. It was just a brief peek at the little boy who would call me "Mu-Mu-Ma." My man, the first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes, as the song goes. And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and empty skies, my love. To the dark and empty skies.

A new level of crazy

2008-08-29T21:47:00.003-04:00

I've stopped using cleaning products. Now, don't get me wrong - I haven't stopped cleaning, I just don't us commercial cleaning products anymore. I'm all vinegar, all the time. Good old fashioned white vinegar.

This is the latest influence of my hippie child birth class. Damn the Bradley Birth Method and all of their practical, helpful, eye-opening information! Because of that class, I am paranoid that Cam is going to ingest some crazy caustic poison and I'll be off to the ER again. The vinegar is a little pungent, but I can rest easy that it's not going to harm him, and as it dries, the smell fades.

I've been cleaning the floor with vinegar for about 6 weeks now and have been pretty happy with the results, but tonight was my first Big Clean with it: bathroom vanity, tub, floor, Cam's floor, crib, changing table, everything. The whole while I was muttering, "What's next, you freaking hippie? Gonna weave your own hemp cloth and sew yourself some tunics?" But, despite my embarrassment over going so granola, I'm going to keep it up. First of all, it's cheap. Second, it works. Third, it's safe. And fourth - deep sigh - I'm not dumping chemicals down the drain.

I probably should be happy and proud that I'm making this environmentally sensitive decision, but really, I've resisted getting chatty about it because there is nothing more grating to me than a sanctimonious activist. The person who thinks she's better than everybody else because she drives a hybrid. Who takes pains to point out how she recycles her Crate & Barrel catalogues. I mean, yes, I recycle. I don't drink bottled water. I have a cup at work that I wash and reuse so I don't have to use Styrofoam ... I even wash and reuse a cloth for Cam's bum so we're not using and throwing away disposable wipes, but it's not because I've drunk the "Earth is going to explode in a flaming ball of aerosol fumes" Kool-ade that the alarmists are pouring. I just don't want to be wasteful and I don't want to pollute. I am an honest-to-God skeptic of global warming. But that doesn't mean I don't think we shouldn't take care of the Earth, you know?

There doesn't seem to be a camp for people like me. It seems if you're going to have an opinion, you have two choices: it's either you hate the human race and think people are a destructive virus intentionally suffocating the planet, or you have complete disregard for your impact on the world around you and you waste and burn everything. There is no sensible, middle-ground group that just thinks it makes good economical and ecological sense to cut back. To be a bit more thoughtful. I just don't see anyone making that practical argument.

So, what do you guys think? Have any of you made little changes to your routine in an effort to be more conscientious? Or are you resisting being pressured into changing your ways against your will? What will be the last thing you give up?

So, vinegar it is. Just the latest in my slow metamorphosis into a crunchy hippie. The measurement I use is 1/2 cup to 1 gallon of water, if anyone else is interested in giving it a try. In the spirit of full disclosure, I feel I need to tell you that I've still got some Windex to use up and of course the infamous canister of disinfectant wipes that I use to wipe down the toys (not sure I'm giving them up) and half a bottle of soft scrub for the toilet, but I think once they're gone, I'm not going to go back. It's going to smell like cole slaw in here, but I'm OK with that. It's for the best.

Have a great night, girls, and I'll catch up with you soon.

Ye Olde Fashioned Toy 1 - Camo 0

2008-08-27T21:39:00.005-04:00

We have had an injury. A real, certifiable injury. Beyond "boo-boo" status, into emergency room territory. Cameron is fine; he really is a tank. I think enough time has gone by where I can get the whole play-by-play out without feeling mostly like an ass, partly like a screw-up and a smidge like a cry-baby. OK, more than a smidge.

Lee and Coach were playing golf on Saturday morning, so Uz and I decided to have a "play date" with Camo and Phi, their baby. Our version of a play-date being trash-talking our mothers-in-law while we ate pie and rolled around on the floor with each other's babies.

The pie was in the oven, the floors were swept. All that needed to be done was to sanitize the toys. I was seated on the floor and had Camo on my lap. I transferred him to the floor next to me so I could wipe down the toys. I reached behind myself for the canister of disinfectant wipes. Camo leaned to other way for a toy out of his grasp - and toppled over, face-first, into this stupid wooden activity table I bought a year ago when I was pregnant.

He knocked his face right into the edge, right in the corner of his eye. He howled immediately and I knew it was more than the usual "I hate being on my tummy" cry. Well, his face definitely had a mark - the cut wasn't bleeding, but I pressed a wet paper towel to it and a line of red came off, so it was definitely a cut. It went straight toward his eyeball. He wasn't crying anymore, but I just wasn't sure what to do. So, I called Uz, told her to wait to come over, I had the forethought to shut off the oven before racing out of the house to the emergency room.

Initially, the ER doc told me the cut was superficial, I was right to bring him in but the treatment would be to put Neosporan on it. She was like, "Sweetie, with a baby boy that size, you're going to get some bumps and bruises. This is just the first." She then said she was going to call the plastic surgeon and tell him not to bother coming in. However, he was already there, so he popped in to see Camo.

Turns out the cut continued onto his eyelid and the surgeon was like, "Listen, I'm here. I can put stitches in it. he probably doesn't need them, but if he rubs the eye and you don't have stitches, there is to possibility the cut could get worse. Also, with the stitches, it won't scar."

So, I said, "OK do it." Oh. My. God. I have never witnessed anything like an infant being restrained to get stitches in his face. It was terrible - they put his arms in a pillow case behind his back and then bound him up in a straight jacket-type papoose, which he busted out of twice, then they had three nurses restraining him while the doc gave him a needle of Novocaine in his face, then he had 5 stitches put in. He was howling - absolutely howling - until the 3rd stitch went in. Then he just quieted down. It was so traumatic - I almost passed out. Luckily, he was his usual friendly self as soon as they sat him up out of the papoose, but he looked terrible! I mean, the cut was barely distinguishable when I brought him in; the first doc didn't even see the whole cut it was so small. When they were done with him, he had a Frankenstein eye.

For a few days I was feeling completely betrayed - like, if I'd have listened to the first doc, I could have just put Neosporan on it and only felt like a jerk. As it turned out, I listened to the second doctor, traumatized my son, myself, butchered his face for the hell of it and ended up feeling like a Category 4 douche.

But, we survived. The cut is healing. He has no recollection of the event, and I've tried to trigger some sort of reaction to see if he's now frightened of red activity tables, pillow cases, or pie. No reaction. I think he'll be fine.

As for the pie... I haven't been able to eat it. Sorry Chrissy. But every time I try to, I just think, "If you weren't so damn busy trying to be Perfect Susie Homemaker with your pie and your clean floors and sanitized toys, your kid wouldn't have a busted eye." The dough was lovely, though - soft and pliable, with no breakage as I fit it into the plate. it was a Key Lime Pie (usually I do the graham cracker crust, but I wanted to try Chrissy's recipe. And I made it with bottled key lime juice. I know, I know... but I wanted something summery) and I even whipped my own meringue by hand. It was pretty and probably delicious, but it sits forlornly in my fridge. Untouched by Johnston hands. The victim of circumstance. Perhaps another weekend, my friend.

So,that's that. There is also a ton of other things, but that is obviously the most pressing thing that's been going on.

Ok, here it is. See for yourself. My poor rough 'n tumble man. As we left the ER, the doctor was like, "OK, mom, I have three words for you - 'Pee-Wee Football.' See you in six years." Strangely, I don't doubt it. He is such a bruiser.

Uz and Phi came over once we got home from the ER. Cam and Phi are in love and will probably get married. Here's their picture:

And one last little tid-bit before I go: Congratulations, Ann! It was a hard-fought pregnancy and a hell of a labor and delivery. I am so happy you have a darling little girl of your own. Snuggle her good and tight - can't wait to hear more about how you're doing!

Wilson

2008-08-17T21:05:00.002-04:00

You remember that part of "Castaway" after he gets rescued where Tom Hanks is laying on the floor of his hotel room, next to the bed, flipping the light on and off? It's been so long since he's seen them, he just can't fathom the bed and the lamp?

That's kind of how I feel: I had a manicure and a pedicure on Saturday. I can't even remember the last time. I am dazzled by my fingers and toes.

Let them eat (cup)cake

2008-08-12T20:40:00.003-04:00

Did I mention I cut off all of my hair? OK, not all of it, but most of it? I had all the length lopped off, my pony tail held aloft by Riccardo for the whole salon to see, like the guillotiniere who showed off Marie Antoinette's head to the French masses. OK, you got me again. It wasn't that dramatic. And obviously my head is still attached to my body, so not quite as final, either, but it kind of felt that way. The measuring of the hair; the attaching of the rubber band; the drum roll as the scissors were brandished in the pinkish glow of the track lighting; the three short snaps of the scissors as Riccardo warmed up his fingers... all combined to create some spine-tingling tension. And then there it was: my hair, decidedly unattached to my head. I was happy to see it go. Off to Pantene Beautiful Lengths to be made into a wig. Initially I was going to do Locks of Love, the one everyone's heard of, but they have a lot of requirements, including the hair being separated into different sections for each layer and braided, which Riccardo didn't do before he chopped. I wanted to make sure the hair was used, so, Pantene it is, and it's still a great cause.

I really like my hair now - it was so long, I felt like all I needed was a kerchief and a butter churn and I could pass as Laura Ingles. Now I feel a lot cuter; the hair was making me feel frumpy.

Also on the frump-front: I don't know how much hair weighs, but I lost 3 pounds the weekend I cut it. Isn't that funny? At the rate I'm drinking Cherry Coke, I'll put it all back on by Friday, but it was nice to see the scale dip down that low. I haven't been 125 since before the baby. Hello, my dear old friend, 125. It's a pleasure to see you again.

I don't know if I've shared this recipe before, but I made it last night and it is so worth sharing again: Honey balsamic marinade. I used this on bone-in, skin on chicken thighs (Goodbye, 125. It was nice to see you) and it was perfect. I mixed up the marinade on Thursday night, left the chicken soaking in it until grilling time Monday evening and it was fantastic. I was a little afraid it would be too much, it being vinegar and all, but the skin slowed the absorption time, so there was no mouth-puckering sourness.

1/3 c honey
2/3 c balsamic vinegar
1 shallot, sliced thinly
3 garlic cloves, smashed
a few sprigs of thyme

Warm the honey in the micro to loosen it up, then stir in the other ingredients. Let this cool, then put it into a freezer bag, add your meat and marinate. (I have used this for thighs, legs, breasts, salmon and pork chops.)

Then, when you're ready to cook, drain the marinade into a small sauce pan and cook over low heat while you grill the meat. Make sure the meat doesn't scorch - the vinegar will tend to do that. Cook the marinade down until it is syrupy and when the meat is done cooking on both sides, remove it to a platter and drizzle your glaze over top. Oh dear. It is good.

We had this with grilled onions, red peppers, scallions and potatoes and corn on the cob, which I also grilled. Oh, Weber, you are the best toy a girl could have. How I love your smoky deliciousness.

I had a rum truffle for dessert (Hello, 130. Long time, no see), which Lee brought home for me. With the baby now dominating our every waking (and sleeping) moment, it was nice to have him surprise me with a box of chocolates and a plant. He really is a good boy, that Lee. I don't spend a lot of time talking about him here, but it's only because I get mushy enough when I talk about my KitchenAid Mixer. Can you imagine what I would sound like if I wrote about the real love in my life?

My kitchenAid is a true workhorse, though. My best friend, Allison, have her to me for Christmas in 2002 and she has become my "old reliable." I used her to make Sarah's wedding cake; to mix up the fateful pork dumpling filling; to roll out my first sheet of pasta dough, and every cookie, cupcake and ill-fated pastry dough over the past 6 years. In the list of All the Gifts I have Ever Gotten, this is by far, top three. Number 2 is my lap top and number 1 is the yellow phone-shaped walkie-talkies I got for Christmas when I was 4 years old. OWS and I had them in or rooms for maybe 10 years and we talked on them every night. They could somehow pick up real phone conversations and we felt very grown up using them. Yes, the phone walkie-talkies is definitely the best, but the kitchenaid is still in use, so once it surpasses 10 years of service, I will have to re-evaluate the standings.

I haven't put the Kitchenaid away since the last usage - I can't even remember what I had it out for. But I am going to make a little something for Lee's office friends. Something I have been dreaming about since I first saw them: NIgella's cupcakes with royal icing. There is something about the frosting going all crunchy that makes my scalp feel tight in a way that defies logic and reason. I must have it. I'll let you know how it goes. What's that I see? Oh, it's just 135, coming around the bend.

I found my thrill (UPDATED)

2008-08-10T21:22:00.005-04:00

Their peek has past, their indigo skins have shriveled, but I can gladly
say I made the most of blueberry season.

Along with the pancakes and Ina's coffee cake, I also used my pints of blueberries in my cereal; in a tart, in jam and in crisp bars. I didn't make a pie, as I originally thought I would because - despite Chrissy's assurances that pie-making will be a whole new world to me once I use her recipe and technique - I am still intimidated. I feel I need an entire afternoon - in solitude, with only my maple rolling pin for company - before I can tackle a pie. Especially one made from a recipe supplied by my blogging pastry icon.

So, I stuck to what I know: Pillsbury roll 'n bake crust. I'd defrosted this with the intention of using it for my ham and fontina purses for the bridal shower I went to two weeks ago, but - as I suspected - they fell out of the line-up when Friday night ran later than I wanted. On the plus side, though - we did have some slamming ham and fontina omelets for dinner during the week. Yummy. I freaking love breakfast for dinner. With garlicky homefries and turkey sausage ... oh, baby.

I don't have a tart pan (see previous laments re: my inability to construct a decent crust) so I improvised. Instead, I used my largest pan. A 12" Hankles stainless number, with straight sides (I thought a cake pan would be too small for what I wanted). I sprayed the pan with Pam, rolled out the dough thin and pressed it in, giving myself just a little bit of a lip up the sides of the pan.

I baked this until it was golden and then just slid it out onto my platter. Worked startlingly well, I'll have you know; no cracks or breaks at all removing it.

While all this was happening, I cooked a pint of berries with 1/4 c of sugar, lemon zest, a smidgen of corn starch and a squeeze of lemon juice over lowish heat. I cooked it and cooked it, stirring it not-quite-continuously, but pretty regularly, until it got glistenly, gloppy, thick and gooey, like a jam. I let this cool while the crust cooled, and it just got thicker.

Once it was cool, I mixed about 2 tablespoons of it with a cup of room temp cream cheese, 1/4 c of sour cream, 3 tablespoons of sugar, a touch more lemon juice and a dash of hazelnut extract. I spread this mixture onto the cooled crust, taking it all the way to the edges. Then I very artfully arranged a diamond pattern in blueberries on top of the creamy, purple cheese mixture. Then (and this is where - in a fit of absolute giddiness at my creativity - I lost track of my camera, because I have no pictures to prove this is indeed what transpired) I spread the jammy mixture over the berries and cheese layer, giving it a dark purple, shiny lacquer with the diamond pattern poking through. It was a thing of beauty. Granted, I sent this to work with Lee, so I have no idea what it tasted like as a whole, but the parts that I licked off of spoons and scraped out of bowls were downright delish. I do have pictures of the first few steps, though, and once I locate that blasted camera, I'll upload them.

The crisp bars are an actual, certifiable recipe - not something I tossed together slap-dash like the last one. Although, I must admit, I just copied the ingredients and forgot to copy the method, so the "assembly" portion of the program is kind of off the cuff. This little number I made on Thursday night because Lee's intern is entering the big, bad world of fashion and getting a real, paying job. They are celebrating with baked goods, and I was happy to oblige.

The recipe is:
crust-
1 c butter (2 sticks, cold cold COLD!)
3 c flour
1 c sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 egg

berries-
4 c blueberries
1/4 c sugar
3 tsp corn starch
1 lemon, zested and juiced

Make the crust first, mixing the flour, baking soda, sugar and salt together. Cube the butter, and cut it in. Add the egg and cut that in as well. Mixture will be crumbly. Press a little over half into the bottom of a smallish brownie pan that you've coated with a non-stick spray or butter. I know - there's a cup of butter in the crust. But better safe than sorry. Press it in good and tight.

Mix all of the berry stuff together and dump onto the crust. I must admit - I had left-over blueberry jam from the tart and I spread this on the crust, and well ... it was a brilliant move, if I say so. Top this with the rest of the crust mixture, pressing it into place, again, but not with a reckless disregard for the berries below. You don't want to smash them. Just kind of pat the topping into place.

Bake at 350 for 40 minutes and cool completely. Like, over night. Then cut it into squares, wiping your knife clean after each pass though so you get a nice, clean cut each time. Serve to your husband's coworkers and revel in their enthusiasm for your mad blueberrry skills.

OK - All caught up on the baking front - for now. I really am going to bake Chrissy's pie, but at this stage, I have it built up un my head ) am preparing for it like a mountaineer preps for a push to the summit of K-2. I feel like I need to do push-ups, just thinking about the damn pie. But I will do it. And it. Will be. Epic.

So, as you may notice, I just went private. It feels kind of different. Like I'm hiding in bed with the covers over my head. But, things got a little ... loco? ... for a few days there, and the e-mails and everything that I was getting hit with were taking up too much of my time and I just couldn't explain myself and my feelings any further. It wasn't that I felt the two ladies involved had to agree with me, they just didn't even acknowledge that my position was valid, even if it was different and in conflict with theirs. And in their haste to shoot down my opinion, they mad a number of personal attacks against me. And then someone else jumped on the wagon and made an actual threat of violence, and I just thought it was kookie. Like, really? Maybe they need a pie recipe to think about, if they're so hung up on my blog, you know?

So, now I've very poshly gone private and I feel like I'm having an exclusive get-together and you gals are all invited! It'll be worth your while, I promise. And - on the plus side - some ladies with whom I am not acquainted have joined my little soiree and I am so happy! I'll get all caught up on your blogs and we'll be like old girlfriends before long. (And if I got an e-mail from you, and send you one back saying "please send me your e-mail" just pretend like I'm not a dolt, OK? Because I don't know what happened there. Obviously I have your e-mail. You just sent me one, so I have the address. That's how e-mail works. I have no idea what came over me. BUT ... conversely - if you know of someone who would like an invite but was not invited before I went private, please send them my address, which is dishfromtrish@gmail.com

I'm only private to avoid more interaction with the three people who caused me the headaches - not because I have some juicy secrets to keep on the DL. The more the merrier, right?

OK - I hear a crying baby. It's time for a quick snack for my man before he gets tucked back into the cribby.

Hope you all had a great weekend. And all you girls who had babies, U/Ss, exploding tires and other assorted stressful and exciting things... Sleep in late tomorrow, OK? Really. You are tiring me out. Stay. In. Bed.

UPDATE: OK - my technology ignorance knows no bounds. Is this fricking blog private or what? I think I made it private, but I just saw it while not signed in. Am I a mess or what? Please, someone throw me a rope or a tree branch or something. Ann - you're on bedrest. Can you spare a minute for a brief Blogger tutorial for an obviously clueless blogger? Take pity on me. I'm still working on the hiding text thing you tried to teach me, but the time-frame on this is a bit more pressing. Thanks girls!

(And if you're not invited, clearly you still have time to request an invite!)

Oh! So that's exactly how much I can stand

2008-07-25T18:38:00.002-04:00

Evenings have been so busy around here.

Last week Lee told me blueberries were on sale and they looked good - but he didn't pick any up. To which I blithely replied, "Next time you see them, you should get some."

Flash forward to Lee coming home with a flat of blueberries - 6 pints of plump, juicy berries that I had no clue how to use in any recipe beyond pancakes. So far, I've made the pancakes for dinner, Ina Garten's blueberry coffee cake and I'm getting ready to make a blueberry tart. No real recipe for the tart, I'm just going to wing it. I think I may use Chrissy's recipe for the pie crust, though because - I'm not being overly dramatic about this either - I think that pie crust recipe has the potential to change my life. A cream-cheese-based pie crust? Oh, you saucy little minx, you! Chrissy - you're a Wunderkind. The crust is always the hardest part! And it's not like I haven't tried before. I've just always met with disappointment and all-out failure. Bland, white, brittle crusts. But in your recipe I see my pie salvation! I cannot wait to try it. And also, while I'm lauding your skillz - thank you for mentioning that the juice from the apples does not go into the crust along with said apples. Don't you know the few times I have tried to make apple pie (see heartbreak above) I have always just up-ended the bowl full of goodness into the crust, juice and all. Now I know not to - and exactly why I shouldn't. You are my baked-goods hero.

OK, so in addition to finding 101 uses for blueberries, I have also been in overdrive getting ready for Kat and Buddy's wedding shower. I have the gifts purchased ( not wrapped) the favors purchased and assembled, the food about 50% ready to go and my dress ... picked out, but - it's kind of a wrinkly mess, so I need to iron it tonight. Last night I prepped 2 of the appetizers I'm making. They just need final assembly, which I'll do once I arrive at OWS's house. One is just this horribly fattening spread that isn't really a recipe at all, it's more assembly ... but it will deliciously clog your arteries in a symphony of bacony delight! Pound of bacon, cooked and chopped. A bag of shredded cheddar, a bunch of scallions, chopped. 10 grinds of pepper. Mix it up, using mayo as a binder until it holds together and you can scoop or spread it. Uhhhhhh.... so good. We also decided to make a few of the passed hors d'ouvres they're having at their wedding and serve them at the shower. I made sweet Italian sausage, peppers and onions skewers with marinara dipping sauce. Everything is cooked - I just need to assemble the skewers. The third is only 30% done because the filling is mixed, but my pastry purses have not been rolled, cut, filled or baked. That's one of tonight's chores.

I finally finished the favors. Since it is a co-ed shower in the evening, OWS and I decided to make it a full-on cocktail party. We are even having a cocktail fountain. In the fountain will be Ina Garten's mai tais, which we will - for the sake of cutsiness - call "Mai Brides". Awww... as if there isn't enough sugar already! So, in keeping with the theme, the favor is flavored sugar cocktail rimmers! Yay! I got 40 CD tins (4" diam.) and designed and printed labels with the mai tai recipe on them. Then, I affixed the label and filled the tins with lemon-drop flavored sugar I bought from Rokz. Each person will get a tin so they can make the same cocktail at home that they had at OWS's. How sweet!

So, everything is on schedule. Or, rather, it was until Lee invited Denny, BIL, Uz, Coach and the baby over for a card game tonight. Because when you have a million things to do and a 7:30 AM departure time, why not throw an impromptu get-together? So now add "clean the bathroom, sweep the floor and shove baby toys into corner" to the list of things I need to do when I get home! (Writing this at work in the AM.)

Work has been crazy, too. I mentioned that my super-cool boss resigned. Her last day isn't until the end of August, but everyone is definitely at a Code Orange-level of panic right now. We are pretty much reliant on her to keep us all marching to the same beat. We are great at our individual jobs, but when you're launching 7 or 8 marketing campaigns for 6 different clients all at once, it gets very hectic. She can manage all of the projects - and us - without missing a step. She seems to be the only one who knows what's going on at all times. I'd venture to guess that there really is only a 75% chance the rest of us are even conscious at the same time, yet she keeps us on schedule. So, with her leaving, we are all in a world of hurt. She really is super-cool.

You know what's not super-cool? Inciting someone to make a threat of violence against someone else. While most cases of internet hate-speech and on-line threats go unpunished, there have been and should be exceptions to that standard. Like, let's say when someone gives out a person's name, then lists one-sided details of a story, gives incomplete quotes that give an inaccurate representation of the original statement, and then allows another individual to post a comment on her blog saying that she is ready and willing to take action, all she needs is a gun - or a cattle prod. While Person A may not have made the actual threat of violence - implied or otherwise - Person A is responsible for moderating comments on her blog. And her willingness to leave that comment up and viewable to everyone on the internet shows an endorsement of the sentiment. Criminal? Probably not. Classy? Not in the least.

Oh, and if there are any Mac users out there, the keystroke to take a screen shot is "Shift + command + 3" in case you feel the need to capture anything you see online for posterity. I wish I would have done that from the get-go. As it was, I only copied and pasted that hate-filled post into a word doc. So while you claim that it's no longer around - you're wrong. I have it. And it's still pretty shitty.

Well, as such, I think I may go private. The last thing I need is the lunatic fringe combing through my past posts to see if they can figure out where I live so they can act on the implied threat I spotted this morning. If you would like an invite, please send me an e-mail at dishfromtrish@gmail.com. I'll leave this up for the remainder of July and then go private. A lot of things are funny. "Pink eye," as said by Cartman, is funny. Fictionalized intrauterine conversations between twin fetuses are funny. Offering to shoot someone - not funny.

So my plan for tonight is to dash to the day-care and rescue the monster, dash home, do a quick feeding and diaper change then hand him off to Lee so I can roll dough, wrap gifts, bake (ugh! early-evening baking! I did the coffee cake in the middle of the night when it was cooler) the pastry and then maybe swab the bathroom with a bleach cloth before the guests arrive at 7. I wonder if they expect to eat? I have a feeling my fontina and ham-stuffed purses may not make it to PA.

Have a lovely weekend, ladies, and thanks for all of your encouragement. I was worried that I'd open up another response and get my ears boxed again, but you lovelies are just wonderful. I wish I could throw a cocktail party with a drink fountain and bacony-cheesey yuminess for all of you!

So, you know, there's that ...

2008-07-21T22:26:00.004-04:00

On the hottest day of the year so far, I find myself yearning for one of my top-five cold weather meals: coq au vin. This always happens - I consider myself a salamander. A sun-lover. A beach bum. And yet, my thoughts inevitably turn to fall as soon as summer comfortably settles in. I can't help it.

The coq au vin recipe got me thinking about why I haven't posted and I think it's a good enough metaphor to share. You see, lately, when it comes to blogging, my emotions have been a roux: a cooked-down, sticky glob that has just gotten darker and more concentrated while simultaneously getting hotter and hotter. I have been - and still am - just pissed to the core about some things that were said and some e-mails that were sent.

Seriously - it's been well over a month and I am still bubbling over with indignation
about the whole thing. But like the coq au vin, add a bottle of wine and everything gets markedly better.

If I can ever figure out the blasted code-thingie Anne was nice enough to e-mail to me, I may just bury a play-by-play in a post and get the whole frigging thing off of my chest, but it boils down to this: I spoke up when a blogger bashed a woman suffering from Post Partum Depression. I got - shall we say "scolded?" - via e-mail over it by SOMEONE ELSE!

Oh, but it doesn't end there. I was also told that everybody gets offended sometimes. Take for instance, my Pink Rose Award to my best friend, Allison. This, my dears, was just so offensive. Because, how could I be so glib as to say that Alli's babies wanted to come early? I may not know it, she kindly informed me, but it's especially important for babies to spend as much time in the womb as possible. And so my statement that the babies decided to come early seemed odd. Well, fucking thanks a million for the hot tip. As a 30-year-old woman with a uterus,a college education, and a 6-month old child living in the most industrialized nation in the modern world, I was unaware of that little biological quirk. So glad she clued me in. It baffles me, how this woman could staunchly defend an attack on a woman with a mental illness, but express distaste for my sentimental, whimsical and obviously fictionalized recount of an intrauterine conversation between my best friend's twin fetuses. The arbitrary indignation is breathtaking.

On to other things, then, ehh, lassies? What if we talk about choppers? As
in, Cameron has two - count 'em, two - little toofers. On the bottom,like a little bottle opener. The first one came in June 8th and the second a week later. Also, Cam is also rolling finally. He did it the first time on June 7 and it was hysterical. His big old belly was in the way - poor dough boy. He's been sitting unassisted since May, but he just hadn't shown any sign of being interested in going for a roll. We have the same sort of sensibilities, I guess: Why go elsewhere when everything is quite pleasant right where you happen to be? But, now he's doing it in the crib (oh, yes - he's also sleeping in the crib-for 10 hours at a clip), on the mat and just about anywhere he's laid flat. It makes me want to kiss him on his belly just thinking about it.

We also have started solids, which I have mixed feelings about. On the positive side: It's so funny to watch him. He has downed avocados, bananas, carrots, sweet potatoes and peas so far and loved every gooshie, protective plastic-tipped spoonful. We also have done rice cereal, of course, and a few days ago we discovered just how much fun "nana puffs" can be.(Here's a hint: we don't watch TV anymore. We watch a game we call "pinkie finger" in which Cam uses his whole fist to grasp a star-shaped puff and then tries to smash it into his mouth. The only thing he ever manages to get in there though is - you guessed it - his pinkie finger.) It's great that he's so into food and I finally have the daycare off my back about it (as if it
were their call or something), but I am sad. It means he's growing up. And
while this is a great thing, it just is sad that my tiny baby is turning into a man. Also, baby poop is gross when they eat food. Like, way, way gross. Breast milk poop isn't the least bit offensive, barring the whole "it is poop" aspect.

Also, the LAUNDRY! Bibs are required. Carrots stain. My clothes are stained... it was so much easier to scrunch up my top and let him have at it. Now I have to prepare, heat, wash dishes, blah ...no fun. And also I'm making my own baby food from organic produce, so there's that added chore, too. But, it's worth it, so I won't complain. It's just not as easy as breastfeeding I guess is the point I'm trying to make.

What else ... Uz and Coach got married. Barb had TWO bridal showers. My super-awesome boss resigned. We have more rehearsal dinners and wedding to go to than I care to mention. Scott Baio gave Cameron pink eye. (You have to say this in the voice of Cartman to have it be as funny where you are as it is where I am.)

Do me a favor and don't send me any e-mails saying that because your baby had pink eye you're especially sensitive to the mention of pink eye - way more than me - and so you don't appreciate my making light of pink eye. Pink eye pink eye pink eye. Thhheewwt! That is the sound of me blowing a raspberry in your general direction.

Also - can I let the cat out of the bag? I'm not really as sweet as you think I am. I appreciate the "you're so sweets" and all - they really make my day, but ...historically I have gone to great lengths to make myself appear as wholesome as the locally grown organic produce I lovingly steam and smash for my monster-man. But the fact is, I'm actually quite acerbic, I just mask it by being outrageously funny. But I don't have the time for that anymore. I have carrotty bibs to wash.

Speaking of running...my God, it's not as easy as it was pre-monster.(Please don't send me any e-mails saying that my referring to my son as a monster is especially offensive to you because you know monsters way better than I do and it seems odd that I would call him that.) I was huffing and puffing after a mile and half. I was elated, however tomato-faced and ragged-breathed I was, to be back in the gym. Lee and I are still trying to figure out the schedule, since we can't go at the same time anymore, but we are working it out and I plan to be back up to three miles easy by my birthday. Chrissy - if you tell me your birthday is October 29th, I will call shenanigans on you. There is no way we could have that in common, too.

I waited until Cam was 6 months before getting back into the gym for a few reasons and I will finally share them with you, Monica:
1. Having a baby is hard work. It's physically exhausting and it took weeks to get my body normalized again. I don't just mean, "Man that was tough, I'm going to sleep well tonight" normalized, either. I'm talking finding your center of gravity again. I'm talking a six-week period. I'm talking a drastic drop in hormones and raging metabolism. I'm talking episiotomy and gigantic leaky boobs. Working out would be one more curve ball my body wouldn't have appreciated.
2. My whole focus, day and night, every minute, sleeping and waking revolved around the baby. No exaggeration. Six months of putting him before me in every sense. He eats, sleeps and pees before me and if his schedule kept me from doing any of that myself, so be it. It's six months and it goes by quickly. In fact, it's over now and I'm getting to find my time again and I am so happy that I did it I can't even tell you.
3. Why put that kind of pressure on myself? I lost every pound of baby weight without any effort in 5 months. had I actively tried to do it by working out, I never would have been satisfied with my progress. But by having no expectations I allowed my body to work at the pace it set and I am baby-weight free with not one ounce of effort.
4. I'm breastfeeding. And along with needing to maintain my strict eating regimen, I also needed to refrain from burning too much fat too quickly. It's where all of the toxins in your body are stored and if they were squeezed out of my fat as it burned, they would have gone into my breast milk and into my baby. Not to mention that working out may lower breast milk supply, which isn't a good thing when you're exclusively breastfeeding. But my milk supply is firmly established now, so it's
safe to get moving.
5. The scheduling thing. Going back to work, sleeping in the crib, starting solids... all of these things change up everything so drastically, it's shocking. I mean, just as soon as you think you know what to expect,it's time to move on to the next stage. This doesn't stop at 6 months, it's just now I'm more confident in my ability to adapt to the changes without having to call my mother to find out if I'm losing my mind.

OH! How could I have forgotten? The garden was going like gang-busters: tiny green nubbins on the tomato plants; squash and zucchini growing an inch a day; strawberries on the bush... Until The Invasion. A freaking deer jumped into my garden one night and completely ravaged everything. I'm talking about 70%devastation. I was so heartbroken! It looked like someone stuck a weed-whacker over the fence and just went to town Texas Chainsaw Massacre-style. I didn't think I would recover. However, in the ensuing days, the leaves for the zuchs and squash have come back, there are sprouts on the berries and two of the maters were actually saved by the cages I put around the plants. So, all is not lost. I do, however, need to go get a net to toss over the top to keep the deer out in the future.

OK - let's recap: Cam is great; I am bitter; Uz is married; carrots stain and I'm out of zucchini. There. That's everything. How about some more later? I have dish on Bones and the Ragin' Cajun's wedding. And if you agree that their nuptials are the first sign of the Apocalypse, then we all better get busy atoning, because it's a done deal.

A dozen roses

2008-06-10T07:49:00.004-04:00

Lovely Chrissy gave me a Pink Rose Award, and it came at a time when I needed a kind word, so thank you, Chrissy. If I had any internet prowess, I'll paste the graphic here...
...

...and YAY! With a little more effort, I got it.

Chrissy gave me the award, and now it's my obligation to pass it on.

There are two girls who come to mind when I think of who to give the award to.

The first is Heather, who is at the same time eager and tentative about starting a family. As she said, she bought the ticket, she just hasn't gotten on the train yet. I'm sure when she and Eli decide to take the plunge, they'll be whole-heartedly ready for the wild, tense, emotional ride that is baby-making. Heather, I wish you luck and love in your journey. It's a blessing for all of us when good people have babies -it makes the world a better place. Whether it's a month, a year or five years from now, when you decided to move forward, you'll have all of us behind you, wishing you the best.

My second rose goes to Allison, my best friend.

She doesn't have a blog, so I doubt she'll ever see this, but it's important for me to acknowledge her. Allison is a wonderful, goofy, quirky, sincere, maddeningly organized gal who recently gave birth to twin boys, Alex and Oliver - seven and a half weeks early. I think they came that soon because they knew that after almost 4 years and several failed attempts, both Alli and Marco could barely wait another second to see them.

There was a NICU stay. There were feeding tubes, oxygen tents, heart monitors, great leaps forward, devastating set-backs, long nights sitting by the isolets, lots of tears but finally, there was good news: There were two boys in two car seats and there was a family on their way home.
By the time Alex and Oliver were born, I'd been a mom for three whole months - not exactly an old hand but sleep-deprived enough to offer a truly sympathetic ear. I understood the depression. To a small degree, I understood the fear of holding a tiny baby - although her boys put together weighed less than my boy alone. Sleepless nights, three-hour feedings, intrusive, over-bearing mothers, constant crying ... through all of this, Allison never lost (or loses) sight of the miracle that is her boys. She may get down just long enough to release her tension, then she gets back up. She always, always is looking for the light.

So, maybe I should give Allison a few roses - make it an even dozen. Because if ever there was a girl who had every reason to be hopeless, it was her - but she had hope.

Give the Pink Rose Award to those who inspire you or need to be inspired, to those who have encouraged you or those who need encouragement.

Here's what to do:
1. On your blog, copy and paste the award, these rules, a link back to the person who selected you, and a link to this post: http://smartone.typepad.com/smartone/2008/05/pink-is-my-favo.html. You will find the story behind the Pink Rose Award and other graphics to choose from there.
2. Select as many award recipients as you would like, link to their blogs (if they have one), and explain why you have chosen them.
3. Let them know that you have selected them for an award by commenting on one of their posts.
4. If you are selected, pass it on by giving the Pink Rose Award to others.
5. If you find that someone you want to nominate has already been selected by someone else, you can still honor them by posting a comment on their award post stating your reasons for wishing to grant them the award.
6. You do not have to wait until someone nominates you to nominate someone else.

Waxing Mushy

2008-06-06T21:45:00.003-04:00

It's not that I never wanted to have a baby. It's just - when I thought about having children, it was always a young child I pictured. A walking, talking little girl. Specifically, a little girl with long blond hair swept back in a pony tail, wearing a pink zip-up sweatshirt and flip flops.

I pictured us walking next to each other, holding hands. And she was always talking. About what, I don't know - anything and everything, I guess, the way little girls do. I know what she was saying was important, and she was eager to talk to me. Honestly, ladies, I can still picture her, and it makes me want to cry because I can't wait to meet her. I hope I am lucky enough to meet her.

So, I never had baby fever. I had Eleanor Fever, because that's what her name was going to be. We talked about having kids a lot and we knew, like, flat-out knew, when we had a baby we would have a girl. Flash-forward to 4:37 and about 30 seconds on December 22, 2007. "Oh, and it's a boy" my midwife, Marla, laconically said as she rubbed the gooey baby laying on my chest. A BOY!? Shock - flat-out shock that I had a boy. And everything I imagined, everything I thought would happen disappeared in a snap. Just the way it was meant to.

I've been thinking a lot about the time leading up to my pregnancy, those long 38 weeks and the first hazy few days after, ever since Heather posted about her dilemma at the train station. How did we know we were ready to actually do it? I have no Monday-morning quarterback insights to share, sorry. All I know is that one night in April, as Lee and I nuggled up late one night after a romp, he said, "I made you a baby tonight." And as fate would have it, he had. And that was that.

It's been hard - no harder than most, no easier than others ... but when that little boy looks up at me with those big blue eyes and he touches my face with those curious fingers, I know we made the right choice. All the time, every day, I can't see anything but him. My heart beats for him. My every breath comes in and out for him.

2008-05-31T22:48:00.008-04:00

As Basil Exposition would say, "A lot's been happening, Foxy."

Of course of utmost importance: Camo turned five months!

My handsome chunk-a-lunk is growing up so fast. His appointment was on 5/22 and he weighed in at 17 lbs 13.5 oz. and is 26 3/4 in long. He finally is digging the tummy time, but is showing little to no interest in flipping over. He scoots a lot and I have a feeling he may crawl before he rolls. The docs (and teachers and my mom and various others well-versed in The Way of the Baby) thinks he isn't rolling because he's so big. It's a lot of girth to get moving, you know? But he very effectively pushes and slides and reaches and he holds himself up like a yogi -nice long neck, strong arms, deep chest. He's actually sitting up unassisted, too, so he's doing just fine. No worries.

Also - Uz had the baby! Cameron's girlfriend is here! Sophia Marley was born on May 16, about 100 days after her due date, if you ask the Mommy. Uz labored for three days, so when she finally got here, there was much celebrating. She looks just like her dad, Coach. She is a beautiful baby and I am so thrilled that one of my local friends can finally sympathize with what "mommyness" entails.

My veggie garden is languishing, I'm sad to report. Instead of the healthy, lush green I imagined, it has the distinct tint of yellow. Maybe more than a tint. I thought it was due to over-watering, but further research revealed yellowing could also be caused by too much sun - it actually burns the leaves. What? So, now I don't know if my problem is too much water or too much sun. Either way, I'm already down one eggplant and I have a tomato plant that looks to be on his way out. I am so tempted to douse them with Miracle-Gro, but that would defeat the purpose of an organic garden, now wouldn't it? I just have to keep telling myself I intended for this to be a learning year - I shouldn't expect to see any fruits - or veggies - for my labor. But I just hate the not knowing what the problem is. And I seriously don't like the idea that I just may not be good at gardening. But, it's only been a few weeks - we aren't even into summer yet. I can't let a few yellow leaves spoil my enthusiasm.

In other landscaping news, Lee and I (mostly me, because he was good enough to distract Camo while I toiled in the dirt) did a little landscaping in the front yard. The beds were full of old red cedar mulch and dried mortar from the stonework, so it took forever to clear them out. But, once I did, I was able to put down fresh black mulch. Even where there are no plants it looks better and tidier.

I planted a little manicured spruce, a spiny plant that matches our shutters to hide our meter and some salvia.

And - jackpot- one of my coworkers gave me a bunch of hostas and irises and assorted other goodies rom her garden. I complimented her on her landscaping the otherday (she lives in my neighborhood) and she was like, "I'll call you when I get more plants from my dad." It's a good thing, too, since it looks like the bunnies had my salvia for lunch today.

Also, I cleared out some weeds that were growing all around our rhodi and cut all of the dead branches off, so it looks much healthier now, too. We also got 6 solar-powered landscaping lights to line our driveway, which look really good at dusk. We finally look presentable. We are far from done, but at least our house looks inhabited now, rather than desolate and abandoned. All and all, I'd say it's looking like we can hold our own on this street, where everyone is obsessed with their lawn and they could all be on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens.

I had my annual appointment with Marla, my midwife yesterday - just a check up. I really love her. She is so sweet. She told me I look like the babysitter, not the mom. Only 3 pounds to go and I'm right back to where I want to be. I would actually like to lose 2 more on top of that to get me back to my pre-pregnancy weight of 128, but 130 sounds like it's more attainable. Once I get to 130 I will reassess if I want to make the push into the 120s!

I was 174 when I delivered, so I'm pretty happy with my weight loss so far -especially considering I haven't stepped one toe into a gym. We switched to a new gym and it hasn't opened yet. I am very eager to get back at it, but even more excited now that I don't feel huge. So, that's that's the latest. With all of that out of the way, I can get into a topic that Heather got me thinking about... I'll try to get to that before another week goes by.

Enjoy your weekend, ladies, and check in soon!

Feeling green

2008-05-22T07:59:00.005-04:00

I just couldn't wait for the produce to come in from the garden, so I took what could be deemed extreme action: I bought organic produce from Purple Dragon (http://www.purpledragon.com/ - GOD why won't links work?). My hippie childbirth instructor runs a pod and she send out an SOS that she needed someone to take an extra share she had, so I jumped on it.

While I am excited to finally get our "organicness" underway, I gotta tell you - I was expecting more. No, seriously - like, more. I paid $46 and got one tomato? There is also a bunch of swiss chard, two heads of romaine, two heads of broccoli, 4 tangeloes, four red potatoes, two kiwi, about 8 apples (2 kinds), 10 carrots, two yellow squash and 6 bananas. For $46? I guess I just thought they would give me enough squash to make a meal out of squash. In fact, I'd spent a few hours dreaming up a grilled squash lasagna recipe I was all excited about and even bought my own organic eggs and cheese, but... two squash - cooked - will yield about a cup of veggies. I need about 6 more. Bummer.

And then there is the issue of location. The web site touts that they help local farmers who produce organic crops. Um .... this is Jersey - the Garden State? Shouldn't be that hard. I understand that NY isn't too far away, so that explains the apples, but I have oranges and bananas. Ecuador is not just over the Tappan Zee Bridge, if you know what I'm saying.

So, I think I may turn down the invitation to join the pod. I'm bummed. I felt like we were really doing something good. I'm just going to have to suck it up and go to Whole Foods. I hate the commercialness of that place, it's not close to our neighborhood and it could be just as expensive, but at least I know that it is local and there is a bigger variety. I had no idea what was coming from PD until the day before I picked up my box. And these guys are worth the effort.

Cameron has his 5 month appointment today - that's why I'm hope from work. That, and I've got a cold - runny nose, sneezing and everything. We took Cameron to school this morning so I could get some cleaning done (and I swear I will do it once I'm done posting) and sleep a bit longer, then it's off to see Dr. Bob! He weighed over 16 pounds last month - I'm thinking 18 for sure this month. Just a few more weeks of strictly breastmilk for him, then come June 22, it's cereal time for my snuggle bug!

OK, I'm off to sweep the house ...

Tending to the garden

2008-05-15T20:35:00.001-04:00

So, I was going to update my last post the evening I wrote it, but with baby in one hand and pump in the other, there just wasn’t time to get to it right away. And then by the time I had a sec, there were so many comments I figured no one would read the update anyway, so just save it for the next post.

Anyway, the update was: No sooner had I posted my BF’in schedule than Cameron’s head teacher, Miss Hannah, said that she thought Camo could use an extra 2 oz in his first and third bottles of the day. So, that 22 oz I was producing ratcheted up to 26 that quickly. I’ve had to add another pumping time, which – because it’s so new – isn’t adding a lot in the way of milk, but is enough of a nuisance to cause me to have to wash the pump AGAIN. For some crazy reason, I have about 12 bottles that hold 5 oz and only 5 bottles that hold 9 oz, so I’m constantly washing the 9 oz bottles, because my baby is such a milk monster a 5 oz bottle just won’t cut it any more. Plus, the pump only has 4 bottles that attach to collect the pumped milk, so I’m washing them out about 9 times a day, too. My hands are a wreck from the hot water and soap. If I had a couple more, I could stand to let them sit unwashed for a little while, but because I don’t, I have to turn them around daily. They need to be washed as soon as they’re empty. Dish-pan hands, ladies. Dish-pan hands.

So, I hope you all had a lovely Mother’s Day. Mine was spent outside, with my boys, doing back-breaking labor. OK, not “back-breaking” but definitely nail-breaking. Snarly nailed, dish-pan hands.

We planted a garden! And not one of those fru-fru flower gardens, for which I have little to no use – a veggie garden! I am so excited. I have wanted one forever, and this was my Mother’s Day gift (in addition to the glider, which has yet to make an appearance).

It is an organic garden, meaning I am not using any pesticides or chemicals on it, and I am using organic-certified plantings. The ultimate goal being produce from which I can make my own baby food for Camo, once he starts eating.

Just turning the soil was an all-day affair. Breaking ground was tough; the soil was good, but riddled with roots. And I think we bit off a bit more than we can chew size-wise. But, By Day Two, we had the earth turned, the chicken wire fence up, pavers down and half of the plants in. I did end up planting some flowers – marigolds – but only because my mom said rabbits hate the smell and taste of them and would help me keep them out of the garden. I have to say, they look sweet and I’m hoping they come in thicker as the summer progresses.

So far, I planted: three kinds of tomatoes, including one that is an heirloom yellow pear tomato, as well as cherry tomatoes and slicing tomatoes; four kinds of peppers, red, yellow and orange bell, and a chili; and an herb patch that has basil, rosemary, sage and oregano.

The rest of the patches will be planted with carrots and lettuce, sown at the same time so the lettuce will come in first, then the carrots; squash and zucchini; peas, and strawberries. We may end up doing a second herb patch, since we use fresh herbs daily and really enjoy a variety. I may add chives, thyme and another basil.

I am super-psyched – I hope I don’t kill these things.

Like everything around this house, I have big plans, but the will undoubtedly have to wait, due to lack of funds, lack of time and lack of muscle. But the ultimate goal is to turn our old rusty tool shed into a potting shed and to continue to rip out the unruly shrubs and plant boxwoods around the property. We also want to put in a patio, outdoor kitchen and new bitchin’ shed with enough room for the rider mower, snow blower and Beer Fridge. Ahh, the dreams of a homeowner.

But, all of these fun chores have to wait for now – there is a pile of damp towels that need laundering the floor needs sweeping. I can see the dust bumbles piling up under the furniture.

Hey – I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s almost the weekend! Ladies, prepare your blenders. It’s almost time for a margarita party. Cheers!