Archive for January, 2011|Monthly archive page

one more

In Family, On My Mind on January 31, 2011 at 8:49 am

Sleep has not been the greatest lately in these here parts. We’ve got a 5yo who’s afraid to sleep by himself since the 8yo terrorized him with tales of a drain-dwelling, child-eating troll who comes into houses at night, and a 10mo who has hit the developmental stage where he bawls and screams when he notices his mommy is not in his crib.

I stumble bleary-eyed through the days.

It is also nearly impossible to keep a clean and tidy house, with the toddler-in-an-infant’s body dead set on emptying an sort of container — toy box, the bench with our shoes, the kitchen cabinets, the laundry basket. Toys and shoes and pots and pans and socks and underwear are strewn about like so much flotsam and jetsam.

I may lose my mind.

Many of our friends have two kids and want no more, and thought we were completely insane to put ourselves through the nursing-diapering-baby-proofing wringer again. There are days when I long for the flexibility I had with two kids who were pretty self-sufficient. And eventually we will have the expense of an entire decade with at least one child in college.


I am utterly in love with this bouncing (literally, bouncing for the pure joy of it) baby boy who prefers the contents of the dishwasher to his own toys. I may not be able to flit about on my own schedule, but I get to blow raspberries on the world’s cutest belly, and watch the gleeful face as he watches his own hand waving “hi”. I get to snuggle him and kiss him when he falls down and goes boom. I get to watch him laugh hysterically as his brother tickles him.

Just one more.

So worth it.


sprouts reprise

In Family, Food, In My Kitchen, On My Mind on January 26, 2011 at 8:23 pm

Leftover sprouts in a pan with a slice of bacon from breakfast, a bit of dijon mustard (thanks Steph!), and a splash of half-n-half. Even better that there was roast pork loin and curried butternut squash and lentils to go with. Yum.

As a side note, Jean-Paul (now 10 months) still eats everything, including kale at lunch today and Brussels sprouts at dinner. Wonder how long that will last.

And for another sprout shot:

lovely little sprouts

In Food, In My Kitchen on January 25, 2011 at 11:04 pm

Poor little Brussel sprouts, they get such a bad rap.

But look at these babies. How could I possibly have passed these up in the grocery store the other day? Look at that lovely purple blush on those tight little bundles of green. Gorgeous!

I love Brussel sprouts with bacon, but sometimes a great ingredient needs to just be allowed to shine on its own. A little olive oil, salt, cracked black pepper.

500 degrees, toss after a few minutes, check them after a few more minutes. This is about when the kitchen smells divine.

Serve with something else. If you must. And make your children try them before they even say the word “dessert”.

a brownie rant

In Family, Food, friends, In My Kitchen, On My Mind on January 11, 2011 at 9:01 pm

As I sit in my living room, exhausted from dealing with boatloads of children after a 12:40pm early dismissal in anticipation of snow that is just now beginning to fall at 8:30pm, I have a burning question.

Who the hell are these people who wait for a pan of brownies to be completely cool before slicing into them so they can get nice tidy lines?

I mean really. They are brownies, people.


They’re the kind of dessert that some people (not me, of course, never me) might put cannabinoid substances into. They’re not meant to be fussy. They are meant to be eaten straight out of the pan when they are just cool enough so you don’t scorch the roof of your mouth. They do not need a plate. They do not even need a napkin. Sleek straight lines? Save ’em for foo foo French pastries.

You know, you people with your straight edge brownies, whoever you are, I’m just not so sure I trust you. Are you just uptight, or are trying to hide something?

You’re probably skinny too.

Which means I really don’t trust you.

I’ll take my chocolatey gooey goodness with messy crumbly edges. You straight edge people, you just move along. Nothing to see here but a nearly empty pan of brownies.


starting the year with a damn good poem

In In Other Words, Writing on January 1, 2011 at 1:11 pm

My God

by Sandra Beasley

My god is a short god. My god wears jeans.

When he swims, he has a lazy breaststroke.

When he gardens, he uses his bare hands.

My god watches reruns of late night talk shows.

My god could levitate but prefers the stairs

and if available, the fireman’s pole. My god

loves bacon. My god’s afraid of sharks.

My god thinks the only way to define a country

is with water. My god thinks eventually,

we will come around on ear candling. My god

spits chaw. My god never flosses.

My god reads Proust. My god never

graduated. He smiles when astronauts reach

zero gravity and say My god, My god.

My god is knitting one very big sweater.

My god is teaching his terrier to beg.

My god didn’t mean for icebergs. My god

didn’t mean for machetes. Sometimes

a sparrow lands in the hands of my god

and he cups it, gently. It never wants to leave

and so, it never notices that even if it tried

my god has too good a grip, my god, my god.