This is, alas, not a blog posting about Salvador Dali. Go to someone else's blog if you're pining to read about melting clocks and stark landscapes.
This is, however, a blog posting about how surreal my life is now. I certainly haven't done extensive poling on this topic, in fact, I have asked no one, but my hunch is that other newbie moms agree with me on my general feelings. So having a baby is pretty much just a surreal experience. There's the whole moment where you first come home from your hospital or birthing place of choice (or accident if you're the unlucky mom who gave birth in a car on the way to the hospital), and you hold you little one and look at him/her and think...um, what do I do now?
And then there's the moment where you're covered in baby slime of some variety and you're home alone and the only thing that you can think of doing is taking pictures to document the moment for your husband who is at work, which allows you to stay home.
But let us also not forget the first time that you roll your newly equipped family vehicle into some parking lot of some brick building somewhere and are suddenly immersed in a sea of other young mothers who are pulling car seats, squirming children, and all of that paraphernalia out of their family vehicles, mostly SUVs, for a mommy & baby group/play date, and you look around and think, "Well, I must be at the right place."
Seriously, I keep running into these moments where I mentally pause sheerly out of some surrealist understanding that yes, I have a baby and yes, that means that my world is different. Yes, you hear this all of the time when you're uber prego and people, mostly middle aged women, look at you with some devilish look in their glinting eyes, and smirk "Your life is going to be sooooo different." As if I didn't know that. I confess wholeheartedly here that I have caught myself almost uttering the same cliche phrase to other expectants before I stop and think, "Eww, I will not be like that."
But dang it, my life *is* different. And I knew that when pondering this whole caboodle of change, but still, really, I never much thought about the whole physical aspect of having a child. I thought about me and me only. It was fairly impossible for me to visual some little person inside of me, so I gave that up and was lovely-y surprised when she popped out and it turned out that she wasn't as ugly as I expected. Yay. But still, that was the farthest that my thought processes had really processed.
For example, I was standing in the kitchen today munching on/sharing a pear with my cuter-than-expected child, and I suddenly realized that someday I would have a four-year old. I have a picture of my four-year old niece on the fridge to prove that yes, indeed, they do grow up to be that age if all of the stars align properly. I'm expecting the stars to be in my favor on this one.
How surreal is that. I'm going to be in charge of a four-year old someday? I'm going to have this little walking, talking helper someday. For real? I stopped a moment in my pear munching and pondered this possibility. What will it be like? I don't know. I really can't figure this out. It's much like trying to figure out what she'd look like before she popped out and introduced herself, quite vocally, I might add.
My life has story time at the library and weekly weigh-in sessions now. I have a backpack that is always on stand-by, which I can almost always grab at a moments notice as I dash out the door and will guarantee that I will be prepared for many a situation. I have a stylishly new gray carseat that beckons every time I look in the rear view mirror now. I have essentially lost all driving privileges for my beloved Honda to Ben so that I can have the family car with me all day. I have learned who to ask for advice and where my sharing boundaries are. I have beat a path through the baby clothes clearance section at Target every time I am there. I have looked at other friends' baby wish lists when they are expecting and surveyed it with a critical eye, spotting things that look useful but are really just a waste of money. I have started hoarding clearance toys for next birthdays.
And perhaps most importantly, I have looked forward with eager anticipation to all milestones while shedding a silent tear for every step that has permanently passed in my child's life. I still don't know what it's going to be like with my favorite baby in the next few days, months, or years. But if I can base it on what has happened so far, then life will be richly blessed indeed.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
the age old English grad student question
What do I write my paper on? (Or, on what do I write my paper? depending on who you are talking with and how formal you feel like being.)
Seriously. This question single handedly re-opens the ulcers from the last semester that were just beginning to heal from the stresses that repeatedly recur over and over. About what should my paper be? Let's explore some options.
1. Gender. A lovely topic. In fact, so lovely that I write about this in some fashion basically every semester, for every class. I'm not a doctoral student who has been lurking on campus for upwards of 5 or 6 years yet, but still, after 8 classes (this semester being my 9th), I'm ready for a change of pace. Which, really, is saying something. This is my bread and butter topic, one that I always feel comfortable exploring and one that I know that I sound like I know what I'm talking about.
2. Race. Really, I'm more over this topic than gender. I think that I was pretty much over this option before I started college. Undergrad even.
3. Patriarchy/patriarchal control. Cheater...this is a subtopic of gender.
4. Politics and economics. This one is a non-choice in my opinion. I cannot dig into capitalism and Marxism and totalitarianism with any feeling of security. In my younger and foolish(er) days, last semester that is, I thought "You know, I've been hanging around people who converse in this language (politics & economics) long enough. I should be able to use these terms as well." So I tried. And I failed. Nevermore (quote the Amy-raven).
And therein lies the list because really, everything else is just a sub-topic of #1, #2 or #4. And therein lies my problem. I only have option #1. What to do, what to do?
And just to make the honey pot of indecision a little stickier, this semester is focused heavily (heavily heavily) on poetry & Modernism, i.e. poetry in the Modern era. Oh snap...two of my least least least favorite genre/periods! Dare I say without a doubt my least favorite?
What to DO!?!
Seriously. This question single handedly re-opens the ulcers from the last semester that were just beginning to heal from the stresses that repeatedly recur over and over. About what should my paper be? Let's explore some options.
1. Gender. A lovely topic. In fact, so lovely that I write about this in some fashion basically every semester, for every class. I'm not a doctoral student who has been lurking on campus for upwards of 5 or 6 years yet, but still, after 8 classes (this semester being my 9th), I'm ready for a change of pace. Which, really, is saying something. This is my bread and butter topic, one that I always feel comfortable exploring and one that I know that I sound like I know what I'm talking about.
2. Race. Really, I'm more over this topic than gender. I think that I was pretty much over this option before I started college. Undergrad even.
3. Patriarchy/patriarchal control. Cheater...this is a subtopic of gender.
4. Politics and economics. This one is a non-choice in my opinion. I cannot dig into capitalism and Marxism and totalitarianism with any feeling of security. In my younger and foolish(er) days, last semester that is, I thought "You know, I've been hanging around people who converse in this language (politics & economics) long enough. I should be able to use these terms as well." So I tried. And I failed. Nevermore (quote the Amy-raven).
And therein lies the list because really, everything else is just a sub-topic of #1, #2 or #4. And therein lies my problem. I only have option #1. What to do, what to do?
And just to make the honey pot of indecision a little stickier, this semester is focused heavily (heavily heavily) on poetry & Modernism, i.e. poetry in the Modern era. Oh snap...two of my least least least favorite genre/periods! Dare I say without a doubt my least favorite?
What to DO!?!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Is this where it starts to get expensive?
I just spent $220-something at Meijer this afternoon. Oh MY goodNess!! For the first four years of our marriage, I averaged somewhere around $60/week in groceries. For the past year, I've been averaging around $80 with several $100/week thrown in for good measure. These make me weep. $220-plus is making me weep, gnash my teeth, rend my clothing, and smear ashes on myself, and wear sackcloth. And, worse worse worse, I only spent $10 on one non-"grocery" item, or otherwise what I would term something that I would not normally buy in a typical grocery expedition. Why the expense?
ABBY. And my cats. And our desperate need for toilet paper. But mostly Abby.
I remember a few weeks after when my first niece was born, my brother made a comment that she wasn't too expensive yet. And I remember thinking, "Gee, maybe babies aren't as expensive as I thought." Oh not so. My brother's idea of expensive is vastly different than mine, I've discovered.
Abby is 7 months old now and a firmly established eater of solid foods. These little jars and containers of pureed goodies are surprisingly expensive. A week's worth of food for her adds up quickly, especially now that she's snacking (I call them poofies) on puffs and melts and yogurt and such.
Breastfeeding has not been easy and is virtually non-existent for us now. This has been a tremendous struggle for us for about 2 months now and has resulted in at least two meltdowns (for me) and hours of fruitless effort culminating in no results. But what this also means is that part of that uber-painful $220 today was $50 worth of formula. It's not just that I'd prefer to not have to use formula, but the cost just rubs salt in the wounds. I used to recycle these formula coupons willy-nilly back when I got them by the fistful in the first couple of months. I wish I had them now.
Another issue is that everything seems to be falling apart right now. Ben's truck (which still doesn't really work). Our light in the living room. The trash can. The nightlight. Granted, these aren't all super expensive, but seriously...uncle.
And, I decided to really make the effort to support organic efforts this year, call it a New Year's resolution if you will, by consciously buying organic whenever possible within reason. This came about after purposefully visiting an organic food market in Carmel on New Year's Eve. Over the past year, specifically, I've been conscious about organic more and definitely have been buying more veggies & fruit, which, I daresay, you can see in the increase in our average grocery bill. As as much as it pains me to pay so much for fresh produce, I've said it before and I'll continue saying it, I won't jeopardize eating healthier just because of cost. Even on a reduced income this year, we are still blessed to have two solid jobs and there's no reason why we can't afford fresh peppers, even if they are $3.99/lb. (Seriously...stupid.)
This has also come about a bit because when I started buying solid foods for Abby, I a) started experimenting with making my own (check our freezer if you don't believe me) and b) buying organic, which is definitely more expensive. By the way...Tyler Florence (super chef cutie) has his own line of organic, and truly interesting flavor combos, baby food with an adorable picture of him and his little guy on the back of the packaging. It's kind of like giving Abby food that a super cutie chef prepared just for her!
Sidenote: I'm determined to introduce different flavors and combinations to my little munchkin than the standard apples & bananas than Gerber provides. Experiments so far--mango & spinach: yum; avocado: icky. We're still working on the avocado. Actually, fresh banana wasn't all that great either, though she was in a mood when we tried that one.
So my resolution is already being a bit tested. We're spending SOOOO much money right now, it seems easy to say "We'll just do organic later..." but no! Not today! Buy organic I did and buy fresh I continue to do!! Now, I need to decide what's reasonable. Organic flour? Organic sugar? Organic cayenne pepper? We'll see. Right now, I'm pretty darn excited about snagging 7 lb. of organic popcorn (bulk) for $1.19/lb. That's totally worth it. And, now I don't have to buy anymore popcorn for Ben until....March. He eats it a lot.
ABBY. And my cats. And our desperate need for toilet paper. But mostly Abby.
I remember a few weeks after when my first niece was born, my brother made a comment that she wasn't too expensive yet. And I remember thinking, "Gee, maybe babies aren't as expensive as I thought." Oh not so. My brother's idea of expensive is vastly different than mine, I've discovered.
Abby is 7 months old now and a firmly established eater of solid foods. These little jars and containers of pureed goodies are surprisingly expensive. A week's worth of food for her adds up quickly, especially now that she's snacking (I call them poofies) on puffs and melts and yogurt and such.
Breastfeeding has not been easy and is virtually non-existent for us now. This has been a tremendous struggle for us for about 2 months now and has resulted in at least two meltdowns (for me) and hours of fruitless effort culminating in no results. But what this also means is that part of that uber-painful $220 today was $50 worth of formula. It's not just that I'd prefer to not have to use formula, but the cost just rubs salt in the wounds. I used to recycle these formula coupons willy-nilly back when I got them by the fistful in the first couple of months. I wish I had them now.
Another issue is that everything seems to be falling apart right now. Ben's truck (which still doesn't really work). Our light in the living room. The trash can. The nightlight. Granted, these aren't all super expensive, but seriously...uncle.
And, I decided to really make the effort to support organic efforts this year, call it a New Year's resolution if you will, by consciously buying organic whenever possible within reason. This came about after purposefully visiting an organic food market in Carmel on New Year's Eve. Over the past year, specifically, I've been conscious about organic more and definitely have been buying more veggies & fruit, which, I daresay, you can see in the increase in our average grocery bill. As as much as it pains me to pay so much for fresh produce, I've said it before and I'll continue saying it, I won't jeopardize eating healthier just because of cost. Even on a reduced income this year, we are still blessed to have two solid jobs and there's no reason why we can't afford fresh peppers, even if they are $3.99/lb. (Seriously...stupid.)
This has also come about a bit because when I started buying solid foods for Abby, I a) started experimenting with making my own (check our freezer if you don't believe me) and b) buying organic, which is definitely more expensive. By the way...Tyler Florence (super chef cutie) has his own line of organic, and truly interesting flavor combos, baby food with an adorable picture of him and his little guy on the back of the packaging. It's kind of like giving Abby food that a super cutie chef prepared just for her!
Sidenote: I'm determined to introduce different flavors and combinations to my little munchkin than the standard apples & bananas than Gerber provides. Experiments so far--mango & spinach: yum; avocado: icky. We're still working on the avocado. Actually, fresh banana wasn't all that great either, though she was in a mood when we tried that one.
So my resolution is already being a bit tested. We're spending SOOOO much money right now, it seems easy to say "We'll just do organic later..." but no! Not today! Buy organic I did and buy fresh I continue to do!! Now, I need to decide what's reasonable. Organic flour? Organic sugar? Organic cayenne pepper? We'll see. Right now, I'm pretty darn excited about snagging 7 lb. of organic popcorn (bulk) for $1.19/lb. That's totally worth it. And, now I don't have to buy anymore popcorn for Ben until....March. He eats it a lot.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
that tricky turn signal & the cardboard box debacle
Ben and I own three cars, superfluous and luxurious we know. Yet for all the excessiveness of this, we have truly used each of them extensively since we procured the third one in April. And before you scoff at our waste, they are all between 9 & 12 years old and they are all paid for and we haven't had a car loan payment for a year and a half now. We have waffled for several months on whether or not to sell Ben's truck, which is oh so wonderful and would be undoubtedly missed. But then months like this month happen and I'm quite thankful that we have three cars. It all began 3 weeks ago...
Ben's truck (let's call it Bernard) doesn't so much like the cold and protests by making its turn signals not work. We have a two car garage, but Bernie has basically been relegated to the driveway because he's the first one to leave in the morning, and that way, I can drive whichever of the two cars I need as each has a different function for us. So as the weather has been getting colder, Bernard has been getting touchier. Bernie is so spiteful in fact that he tricks us into taking him to his friends at the auto spa shop (otherwise known as the mechanic) where they sit around and sip cocktails and then decide that nothing is really wrong with him, whereupon he comes back to us and continues his wily ways.
Bernard happened to be moved to the street to allow our Abby car, an (old) SUV that we shall call Ruthie, to go do something. I forget what we needed Ruthie for, but we did have to move Bernard to use her. Ben didn't get around to moving Bernie back into his normal spot, which he was apparently peeved about because he just belligerently decided not to start AT ALL for two weeks. Really what happened is Ben couldn't start Bernard in the wee small hours of the school morning, so he grabbed the keys to our long distance runner Honda (who I think of as a Molly) and took off, grumbling about Bernard under his breath.
Life was busy. The end of the semester was busy. Bernard wasn't hurting anyone where he was parked. Ruthie and Molly were working for us. Bernard sat. For two weeks. By this point, he was soooo peeved that he refused to start again when Ben went out and sweet talked him a week ago. Ben got mad & Bernard's feelings remained hurt. A tow truck was called to mediate their conflict. Bernard got his wish for a trip to his little spa retreat, whereupon he and his mechanical buddies laughed some more and decided that really, nothing is wrong with him. The joke is on us. Ben's super ticked about how things have been going with Bernard and having to call a tow truck. And then Ruthie gets a bruise.
We were coming back from my parents' house on the way to Ben's parents' house the day after Christmas. Ben was driving. Ben decided to drive over a cardboard box that is in the road rather than drive around it. He claims there was no space. Well, he was wrong. And, in driving over the box, it got stuck on Ruthie's undercarriage. More grumbling ensued. Abby was grumbling at this point to, so it was a jolly little family.
Ben pulled over, we turned on Ruthie's hazard lights, Ben fishes the box out, we take off... Lo and behold, NO turn signal. Nothing will make the turn signal work. Nothing. So we take Ruthie through town to his parents' house and home again. I take her to Target that night and back. We take her to Winchester today, all with no turn signals. Ruthie was just at the auto spa getting fine tuned, but it looks like we'll have to take her back. Maybe Bernard whispered something about tire rotations that sounded appealing and she thought that she'd join in on the fun.
I was driving Ruthie today to Winchester, which is (in good weather) 1 1/2 hours from our house. All of a sudden (dramatic music...kablam!), Ruthie's left turn signal pops on and will NOT turn off, no matter what I do. I must have looked like an idiot driving down the road in the snow turning lights on and off and whatever other gesticulations I was making. For the record, a turn signal that won't turn off is super annoying. Really super annoying.
And then I notice--the hazard lights button is still on. I turn them off and what do you know? The turn signal went off. They have not been flashing this whole time unless they're turning on and off with Ruthie, which means that I've been looking like an idiot driving with my hazards on for longer than just a few moments. But, crisis averted. If Molly pulls anything funny this week then I'll know that there's some sort of conspiracy.
Ben's truck (let's call it Bernard) doesn't so much like the cold and protests by making its turn signals not work. We have a two car garage, but Bernie has basically been relegated to the driveway because he's the first one to leave in the morning, and that way, I can drive whichever of the two cars I need as each has a different function for us. So as the weather has been getting colder, Bernard has been getting touchier. Bernie is so spiteful in fact that he tricks us into taking him to his friends at the auto spa shop (otherwise known as the mechanic) where they sit around and sip cocktails and then decide that nothing is really wrong with him, whereupon he comes back to us and continues his wily ways.
Bernard happened to be moved to the street to allow our Abby car, an (old) SUV that we shall call Ruthie, to go do something. I forget what we needed Ruthie for, but we did have to move Bernard to use her. Ben didn't get around to moving Bernie back into his normal spot, which he was apparently peeved about because he just belligerently decided not to start AT ALL for two weeks. Really what happened is Ben couldn't start Bernard in the wee small hours of the school morning, so he grabbed the keys to our long distance runner Honda (who I think of as a Molly) and took off, grumbling about Bernard under his breath.
Life was busy. The end of the semester was busy. Bernard wasn't hurting anyone where he was parked. Ruthie and Molly were working for us. Bernard sat. For two weeks. By this point, he was soooo peeved that he refused to start again when Ben went out and sweet talked him a week ago. Ben got mad & Bernard's feelings remained hurt. A tow truck was called to mediate their conflict. Bernard got his wish for a trip to his little spa retreat, whereupon he and his mechanical buddies laughed some more and decided that really, nothing is wrong with him. The joke is on us. Ben's super ticked about how things have been going with Bernard and having to call a tow truck. And then Ruthie gets a bruise.
We were coming back from my parents' house on the way to Ben's parents' house the day after Christmas. Ben was driving. Ben decided to drive over a cardboard box that is in the road rather than drive around it. He claims there was no space. Well, he was wrong. And, in driving over the box, it got stuck on Ruthie's undercarriage. More grumbling ensued. Abby was grumbling at this point to, so it was a jolly little family.
Ben pulled over, we turned on Ruthie's hazard lights, Ben fishes the box out, we take off... Lo and behold, NO turn signal. Nothing will make the turn signal work. Nothing. So we take Ruthie through town to his parents' house and home again. I take her to Target that night and back. We take her to Winchester today, all with no turn signals. Ruthie was just at the auto spa getting fine tuned, but it looks like we'll have to take her back. Maybe Bernard whispered something about tire rotations that sounded appealing and she thought that she'd join in on the fun.
I was driving Ruthie today to Winchester, which is (in good weather) 1 1/2 hours from our house. All of a sudden (dramatic music...kablam!), Ruthie's left turn signal pops on and will NOT turn off, no matter what I do. I must have looked like an idiot driving down the road in the snow turning lights on and off and whatever other gesticulations I was making. For the record, a turn signal that won't turn off is super annoying. Really super annoying.
And then I notice--the hazard lights button is still on. I turn them off and what do you know? The turn signal went off. They have not been flashing this whole time unless they're turning on and off with Ruthie, which means that I've been looking like an idiot driving with my hazards on for longer than just a few moments. But, crisis averted. If Molly pulls anything funny this week then I'll know that there's some sort of conspiracy.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Spurned
Spurn me once, shame on me. Spurn me twice, I'm starting to wonder if it's personal.
I have a desire-hate relationship with a restaurant right now. I'm not even sure if it's a love-hate relationship since the "hate" part comes from the restaurant that has spurned me twice now.
I exaggerate...which is, incidentally, one of those words that I'm eternally thankful for spellchecker seeing as how I obviously don't know how to spell it. Ever. (kind of like "weird" and "apparently")
I digress. Kokomo has your basic American chain restaurants that are all lovely in their own way and basically all offer the same thing with some variations--Applebee's, Outback, Chilli's, Texas Roadhouse, etc. Okay, there's quite a bit of variation between Chilli's and Texas Roadhouse, but still, it's not like you don't already know exactly what they offer before you go.
And within the last mmm....year or so, there have been two exotic new restaurants that have opened up waaaaaay on the other side of town from us (which means a) about 2 minutes from the in-laws and b) about 3.5 miles away...really far, I know). Ben and I used the prom last May as a chance to have one last wildly fantastic date together B.A. (before Abby) at one of the joints, a rather posh (for Kokomo standards), modern place called The Quarry. And, they definitely offer a menu that isn't your standard Applebee's fare (again, not that there's anything wrong with that...I rather enjoy Applebee's). Ironically, the other new establishment is located almost exactly right next door to The Quarry.
This is where my desire-hate relationship begins and sadly, ends. It's like the awkward 13-year old girl who has a crush on the exotic quarterback senior who doesn't even know that the 13-year old exists. I'm the awkward teenager; The Olde Oaken Door is the big stud quarterback. It's an intriguing place simply because it's a family style restaurant, and I've never experienced that in a restaurant before. I'm not sure why it's really that exotic, seeing as how it's how I eat every day (you know, communal bowls of food in the middle of the table and two people fight over the last roll...incidentally, I can easily war with myself over bread, so when I say "two people," I very well might mean me). But never have I feasted a la family style in a restaurant before...how exciting! how unique! how different! I must try it.
Months ago, again, B.A., I tried to enlist the help of the in-laws to join us so that we can witness the family style experience in a group rather than a two-some. Alas...that never panned out. And then, I had an invite to join a group of lovely teacher buddies for a retirement party at...The Olde Oaken Door! Victory! Defeat...I gave birth two days before this extravaganza, which resulted in me being, ironically, directly across the street in the hospital while this shindig took place without me. Fast forward 6 1/2 months...Christmas date! (Sidenote--Ben and I started a tradition our senior year in college where we go on a Christmas date where price is not really a factor and we go somewhere where we wouldn't otherwise likely go and revel in the luxury of a credit card and two-full time jobs, throwing sense and 403Bs (the teacher equivalent of a 401K) to the wind.)
Christmas date...where do we want to go? We're dropping the little one off at the grandparents for a couple of hours, and in order to utilize our time most efficiently, we should try to stay within a few minutes of their house. Aha...The Olde Oaken Door!!! Granted, this isn't quite my fantasy as it's just going to be the two of us instead of a noisy, happy family/group, but still. I can just envision the fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Oh yum. I love fried chicken and the last time that I had it was literally 2 1/2 years ago, June 15th, 2007, for a catered rehearsal dinner. I remember weird things (look no spellcheck this time!).
Anyway, long story almost over--the restaurant isn't open on Mondays and Tuesdays, which we didn't know until we pulled up on a Tuesday night in eager anticipation. Denied again. I'm starting to think that the restaurant doesn't even know that I exist. Breaking up is hard to do. Off to the pasta restaurant we went. Spurned.
I have a desire-hate relationship with a restaurant right now. I'm not even sure if it's a love-hate relationship since the "hate" part comes from the restaurant that has spurned me twice now.
I exaggerate...which is, incidentally, one of those words that I'm eternally thankful for spellchecker seeing as how I obviously don't know how to spell it. Ever. (kind of like "weird" and "apparently")
I digress. Kokomo has your basic American chain restaurants that are all lovely in their own way and basically all offer the same thing with some variations--Applebee's, Outback, Chilli's, Texas Roadhouse, etc. Okay, there's quite a bit of variation between Chilli's and Texas Roadhouse, but still, it's not like you don't already know exactly what they offer before you go.
And within the last mmm....year or so, there have been two exotic new restaurants that have opened up waaaaaay on the other side of town from us (which means a) about 2 minutes from the in-laws and b) about 3.5 miles away...really far, I know). Ben and I used the prom last May as a chance to have one last wildly fantastic date together B.A. (before Abby) at one of the joints, a rather posh (for Kokomo standards), modern place called The Quarry. And, they definitely offer a menu that isn't your standard Applebee's fare (again, not that there's anything wrong with that...I rather enjoy Applebee's). Ironically, the other new establishment is located almost exactly right next door to The Quarry.
This is where my desire-hate relationship begins and sadly, ends. It's like the awkward 13-year old girl who has a crush on the exotic quarterback senior who doesn't even know that the 13-year old exists. I'm the awkward teenager; The Olde Oaken Door is the big stud quarterback. It's an intriguing place simply because it's a family style restaurant, and I've never experienced that in a restaurant before. I'm not sure why it's really that exotic, seeing as how it's how I eat every day (you know, communal bowls of food in the middle of the table and two people fight over the last roll...incidentally, I can easily war with myself over bread, so when I say "two people," I very well might mean me). But never have I feasted a la family style in a restaurant before...how exciting! how unique! how different! I must try it.
Months ago, again, B.A., I tried to enlist the help of the in-laws to join us so that we can witness the family style experience in a group rather than a two-some. Alas...that never panned out. And then, I had an invite to join a group of lovely teacher buddies for a retirement party at...The Olde Oaken Door! Victory! Defeat...I gave birth two days before this extravaganza, which resulted in me being, ironically, directly across the street in the hospital while this shindig took place without me. Fast forward 6 1/2 months...Christmas date! (Sidenote--Ben and I started a tradition our senior year in college where we go on a Christmas date where price is not really a factor and we go somewhere where we wouldn't otherwise likely go and revel in the luxury of a credit card and two-full time jobs, throwing sense and 403Bs (the teacher equivalent of a 401K) to the wind.)
Christmas date...where do we want to go? We're dropping the little one off at the grandparents for a couple of hours, and in order to utilize our time most efficiently, we should try to stay within a few minutes of their house. Aha...The Olde Oaken Door!!! Granted, this isn't quite my fantasy as it's just going to be the two of us instead of a noisy, happy family/group, but still. I can just envision the fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Oh yum. I love fried chicken and the last time that I had it was literally 2 1/2 years ago, June 15th, 2007, for a catered rehearsal dinner. I remember weird things (look no spellcheck this time!).
Anyway, long story almost over--the restaurant isn't open on Mondays and Tuesdays, which we didn't know until we pulled up on a Tuesday night in eager anticipation. Denied again. I'm starting to think that the restaurant doesn't even know that I exist. Breaking up is hard to do. Off to the pasta restaurant we went. Spurned.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Christmas photo shoot
Abby's Aunt Megan & Uncle Sam gave the little munchkin an early Christmas present at Thanksgiving. This was a lovely surprise as it totally inspired a mini Christmas photo shoot. If Meijer and I can ever agree on prices for pictures, this might get sent out in Christmas cards, too.
She really makes our $4 tree look prettier.
She really makes our $4 tree look prettier.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
new culinary explorations
How gourmet can baby food get? Pretty yummy, I dare say.
I couldn't wait to start Abby on solid foods, so much so that when she hit four months, we hit the highchair right away. It didn't take long to master cereals, which made me happy to get some more interesting viands introduced to her palate. I'm someone who, while always enjoying the standard fare of middle class American fruits and veggies during my younger years, has rediscovered a love of veggies in my 20s, now that I have found new and exciting ways to make them besides throwing some frozen broccoli bits & pieces in the microwave. The oven and veggies are made for each other. Roasted anything is pretty much a-okay with me! Couple that with a little (or a lottle) bit of fresh Parmigiano Reggiano and I'm a happy happy veggie camper.
Something else that I blame on Manchester influences, I'm pretty sure that I could be a vegetarian after all if I wanted to be one. Right now, I'm really more of an often-but-not-always-just-because-I-still-enjoy-meat vegetarian. In other words, I'm a healthier eater now than I ever was growing up just because I'm willing to eat more veggies and in different forms now than I have before. Dare I say that I even ask for tomatoes on my sandwiches at Subway now??
I deeply wish that my Abby Shedabby will have a healthier lifestyle than me, especially what she eats. I can't wait to start a love of good food with Abby now. My plot involves two key components.
1. Do not use food as a bribe. As I watch my parents and siblings interact with my two nieces and nephew, who are 5, 4 and almost 2, respectively, I realize that this type of food-child relationship is ingrained in our society. "Eat three more bites of potatoes and then you can go play...Eat two more bites of your sandwich and then you can have a cookie...Since you asked so nicely, you can have a doughnut..." I can't help but think that this is why I eat the way that I do. I have been taught to reward myself. It also worries me that our families will continue this "tradition" with my daughter because that is what they do. I'm not sure if this is "wrong," but it is something that I'm now very uncomfortable with to teach my own child. Abby is only 6 months old, and already I have heard this sentiment multiple times: "This [the freezer] is where your mommy and daddy keeps ice cream...you'll get to have ice cream some day soon" or "Does Abby want a cookie? I bet that Abby wants a cookie!" No no no! Not my child!!!
2. Give Abby the very best food that I possibly can from the first spoonful of squashed squash. My theory is that I'm not going to have a bajillion kids, so I can afford to invest more quality in my small quantity. That means that I am willing to pay more for organic baby food, without complaint. It also means that I am intent on making my own baby food as is feasible. Herein lies my new culinary explorations.
So far, I've dabbled in pears and fiddled with sweet potatoes. I find that my blender is not the best aid in my endeavors. I did score a sweet, only used twice, 12-c Kitchenaid food processor this summer at a garage sale just with the intent of blitzing and blending to my baby's content. I haven't exactly mastered the art of using the big black machine yet, though, which means that I'm still reliant on my blender. Perhaps by the end of the month I will have figured out how to conquer the giant that lurks on the floor of my pantry. I have managed to stockpile the aforementioned pears and sweet potatoes in my freezer, though. And just in case you were wondering...Abby loves them. She loves all food that she's tried so far, except avacadoes. We're still working on that one.
I couldn't wait to start Abby on solid foods, so much so that when she hit four months, we hit the highchair right away. It didn't take long to master cereals, which made me happy to get some more interesting viands introduced to her palate. I'm someone who, while always enjoying the standard fare of middle class American fruits and veggies during my younger years, has rediscovered a love of veggies in my 20s, now that I have found new and exciting ways to make them besides throwing some frozen broccoli bits & pieces in the microwave. The oven and veggies are made for each other. Roasted anything is pretty much a-okay with me! Couple that with a little (or a lottle) bit of fresh Parmigiano Reggiano and I'm a happy happy veggie camper.
Something else that I blame on Manchester influences, I'm pretty sure that I could be a vegetarian after all if I wanted to be one. Right now, I'm really more of an often-but-not-always-just-because-I-still-enjoy-meat vegetarian. In other words, I'm a healthier eater now than I ever was growing up just because I'm willing to eat more veggies and in different forms now than I have before. Dare I say that I even ask for tomatoes on my sandwiches at Subway now??
I deeply wish that my Abby Shedabby will have a healthier lifestyle than me, especially what she eats. I can't wait to start a love of good food with Abby now. My plot involves two key components.
1. Do not use food as a bribe. As I watch my parents and siblings interact with my two nieces and nephew, who are 5, 4 and almost 2, respectively, I realize that this type of food-child relationship is ingrained in our society. "Eat three more bites of potatoes and then you can go play...Eat two more bites of your sandwich and then you can have a cookie...Since you asked so nicely, you can have a doughnut..." I can't help but think that this is why I eat the way that I do. I have been taught to reward myself. It also worries me that our families will continue this "tradition" with my daughter because that is what they do. I'm not sure if this is "wrong," but it is something that I'm now very uncomfortable with to teach my own child. Abby is only 6 months old, and already I have heard this sentiment multiple times: "This [the freezer] is where your mommy and daddy keeps ice cream...you'll get to have ice cream some day soon" or "Does Abby want a cookie? I bet that Abby wants a cookie!" No no no! Not my child!!!
2. Give Abby the very best food that I possibly can from the first spoonful of squashed squash. My theory is that I'm not going to have a bajillion kids, so I can afford to invest more quality in my small quantity. That means that I am willing to pay more for organic baby food, without complaint. It also means that I am intent on making my own baby food as is feasible. Herein lies my new culinary explorations.
So far, I've dabbled in pears and fiddled with sweet potatoes. I find that my blender is not the best aid in my endeavors. I did score a sweet, only used twice, 12-c Kitchenaid food processor this summer at a garage sale just with the intent of blitzing and blending to my baby's content. I haven't exactly mastered the art of using the big black machine yet, though, which means that I'm still reliant on my blender. Perhaps by the end of the month I will have figured out how to conquer the giant that lurks on the floor of my pantry. I have managed to stockpile the aforementioned pears and sweet potatoes in my freezer, though. And just in case you were wondering...Abby loves them. She loves all food that she's tried so far, except avacadoes. We're still working on that one.
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