Road Trip Sing Along

I used to listen to music everywhere I went while I was driving. Sometimes the radio or more often than not some crazy cd that I made on my computer, because I am not one of tech savvy moms that owns an ipod or some other fancy mp3 playing things. Yeah that's right, I still burn cd's.

While I was riding along in my Jeep running my errands the sweet sounds of some of my favorite music would always being flowing out my speakers, relaxing me or pumping me up depending on what I was listening to, and generally making whatever it was I was out driving around the do that much more enjoyable.

And then I had kids.

Nowadays my listening choices are usually the peppy happy sounds of the closing song from Thomas the Tank Engine or Yo Gabba Gabba's "There's A Party In My Tummy", played on repeat for Gage, or the sweet sounds of the Jonas Brothers that Brayden and his seven year old self has found to be so fantastic.

Gone are the days of driving along in my Jeep jamming to Led Zeppelin.

So now when we are all piled in the car bright and early I find myself "E I E I Ohhh"ing and getting just as into it as my kids do. Yeah that's right, I sing along. I'm sure why, and I'd like to claim that its for lack of a better song variety nowadays, but something about those overly annoying children's tunes is in fact catchy. And heck, its more important to enjoy those small moments with my kids than it is the rebel against the lack of good music coming from my vehicles speakers.

And anyways, thanks to Nick Jr (or Noggin, or whatever you want to call that channel) the boys have found themselves enamoured with Bob Marley, so I can always put on Three Little Birds and everyone ones.

So moms, what do your kids listen to in the car?

One Thing at a Time

It just keeps getting better and better. Parenting, I mean. The older they get, the more the challenges mature. It used to be "ugh, I can't wait until you can just tell me what you want", and now its "I heard you the first time!", after a seemingly non stop description of how thirsty she is.

Remember last week, when I wrote about how we couldn't keep our 3 year old in clothes? Well, we've since found a solution. The battle was going nowhere, so we put down our weapons, and changed our rules. The solution: You can take your clothes off if you want to, but only in your bedroom, and if you take them off yourself, then you have to put them back on yourself, before you can come back out into the rest of the house. ...Problem solved.

So then the next day, a new problem swam to the surface.

Eleanore and I and some friends took a walk to the park. We played, and we played, and we played. She laughed, and her hair got messy, and the stars on her shirt seemed to twinkle past the fabric and I swore I could see the reflections of the magical shapes shimmering off of her skin.

Until we left.

This little girl. This bad little girl. She ran away from me. Not only did she run away from me, but, she ran away from me. She ran so far away from me, that when I yelled for her to come back, she probably couldn't even hear me. When I screamed for her to come back, I know she heard me, but she chose to ignore me, and kept running. I could hear her laughter, I could see her hair bouncing with every skip, and all I could do was scream after her from where I stood. Yes, I know how to run now, but I'm very visibly pregnant, and with a 1 year old sitting in the stroller in front of me, theres no way I'd be able to catch her. Luckily, we live on an Air Force Base, one of the safest places for her to run away at, so I knew that even if she ran down the path until I couldn't see her anymore, the worst that would happen is she'd trip over her own clumsy feet, get stung by a bee in the process, and go thirsty for 5 minutes until I eventually caught up.

I left the baby behind in the stroller, after my neighbor announced, "I got Charlie", and I took off on foot to rope up my herd. I didn't run, even though I could have, because like I said, its become very unpleasant to move quicker than a grandma's pace. Instead, I quickly walked along the pavement path between the park and housing, towards her, and after the final lung ripping shout of her first middle and last name, she came to a complete stop, crouched down on the ground, and started crying.

She knew she was in deep.

I made her hold my hand the entire way home, and explained to her over and over again, about how we never ever ever run away from our Mommies. Never, ever. I told her bad things could happen, and if she ever did it again, somebody might steal her from me. She said she understood, and said she was sorry. And as if the thought of being stolen away from her Mommy and favorite toys wasn't enough, I dished her the ultimate punishment next, by then taking away her cookie bar privileges. Yeah, that's right. No home baked s'mores cookie bar for her when we get home.

And then, an hour later when I wasn't thinking about anything other than how delicious my cookie bars would taste, I let her have a bite of mine, and of course, because shes way smarter than a 3 year old should be, the smart butt, you know what she said to me?

"I was good Mommy, so you gave me some cookie bar? I'm so good".

Dangit! ...NO! You're bad!

Just take it one thing at a time, Mama's. One thing at a time...

Move Over Ranch Dressing

I discovered a blog recently that features mostly, if not entirely, gluten-free recipes. (It was actually a post about Homemade Nutella that got my attention.) After making her Tangy Peanut Sauce to go on these wraps, Elana's Pantry has won me over. I love this sauce. If I had to be placed in a bathtub full of my choice of condiment, it would be this. Just make sure there's a gigantic veggie tray beside that bathtub.

Oh yes, the wraps. They were good too. You could put whatever vegetables you wanted in these, and as long as you poured a bunch of that sauce over top, it would be awesome. Did I mention how much I loved it?

Thai Chicken Wraps
from Elana's Pantry

12 Bibb or Romaine lettuce leaves
4 Napa cabbage, leaves thinly chopped
1 pound chicken breast, grilled and then diced into ½-inch cubes
1 cup raw broccoli, finely chopped
1 cup shredded carrots
¼ cup scallions, thinly sliced
Tangy Peanut Sauce (recipe below)

Spread out the lettuce leaves. Place a tablespoon of each into the leaf: cabbage, chicken, broccoli, carrots and scallions. Drizzle with peanut sauce and serve.

Serves 4

Nat's Notes:
1. To simplify things, I put the cabbage, broccoli, carrots and scallions into a bowl and mixed them together. This mixture is also good alone with the peanut sauce and served as a slaw/salad.


Tangy Peanut Sauce

½ cup peanut butter or creamy roasted almond butter
¼ cup lime juice, freshly squeezed
2 teaspoons fish sauce
2 teaspoons sesame oil
2 teaspoons ume plum vinegar (see note)
2 teaspoons agave nectar or honey (see note)
¼ cup water
¼ cup cilantro, minced
2 cloves garlic, pressed
2 teaspoons ginger, freshly minced or grated on a Microplane zester
1 teaspoon chili powder or diced jalapeno pepper

In a quart jar, combine nut butter, lime juice, fish sauce, sesame oil, umeboshi vinegar, agave and water. Seal jar and shake well. Add cilantro, garlic, ginger and chili powder and shake again until ingredients are well combined. Store in the refrigerator. Keeps for a week or so.

Use as a dip for jicama and cucumber, or serve over salad or spring rolls. It's also great over fish or chicken or sucked through a straw. (OK, maybe too far.)

Nat's Notes:
1. I looked for ume plum vinegar, but had no luck. I had no idea what it is. (So I looked it up.) I used rice vinegar because I had it on hand. White wine vinegar would also work well.
2. Agave nectar is becoming a popular substitute for liquid sweeteners like honey or maple syrup. It's about 1.5 times sweeter than sugar, but has a much lower glycemic index. (So your blood sugar won't spike.)
3. I used almond butter. I was surprised how "peanutty" the sauce still tasted.

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Counting Down with Little Ones

My daughter Annelie turns three this week, and she is EXCITED. This is the year that she really understands that birthdays are special, and involve cake and candles and presents and friends to celebrate with.

The downside... she's too young to understand how many days she has to wait. The concept of days and weeks is much too overwhelming for this little child's brain.

You don't find a lot of birthday count down calendars, and since we had one whole week to impatiently wait, I decided to make her a count down calendar of her own. Of course, like the over-achieving mom I am, not only is it a lesson in counting down days, but its also a lesson in shapes, colors, and hand-muscle control as she colors in the lines.

I told her that when the shapes are all colored in, it will be her birthday, so of course, she wanted to color them all in one sitting so it would be her birthday RIGHT NOW.

Sorry, kid... doesn't work like that. After a day or two, it started making sense... Every day she gets to color in one shape and its going to take a LOT of days (from a little kids perspective) before they are all colored in and we can celebrate.

She's pretty darned excited to color in her daily shape, and I'm glad to have come up with the perfect count down for little tykes.

xoxo,

"Why Don't I Have A Grandpa?"

As usual, I have cartoons to thank for that question.  Alright, so it was probably inevitable...but I'm convinced that seeing characters like Kai Lan and Little Bear have fun adventures with their grandparents (YeYe for Kai Lan and Grandmother and Grandfather Bear for Little Bear) has a lot to do with getting SweetPea's mental gears spinning.

The question came up one night when I was reading SweetPea a Little Bear story at bedtime.  My brilliant answer?  First...a long pause as I desperately scrounged around my brain for the "perfect answer"...then "You do have a grandpa, sweetie.  My daddy, Grandpa Lou, is in heaven where we can't see him...and your Abuelo, daddy's daddy, works out on a boat in the ocean very far away.  You met him once when you were very little so you don't remember him."  Of course, I got more questions...about where heaven was and why we couldn't see Grandpa Lou.  Luckily hearing that it was "very far away" was good enough to quench her curiosity...and gratefully, she didn't ask why Abuelo didn't come to visit when he wasn't out on his boat.

The whole grandparent issue has been...a sensitive one...from day one.  It hit close to home, because I never really knew mine.  My maternal grandfather died long before I was born (as is the case now with my kids).  My paternal grandfather lived far away in the Philippines, separated from my grandmother, and was never close to my dad.  I met him only one time in my life and it was for two hours while the plane he was on had a layover in Hawaii.  Sure, over the years, I got an occasional letter or card from him, but he was never more than a face in a picture for me.  As for my grandmothers, both of them also lived very far from us in Hawaii (my mom's mom in northern New Hampshire and my dad's mom in eastern Connecticut).  I talked to them a lot on the phone...and exchanged letters and cards...and had the chance to stay with them over a summer when I was twelve, but honestly, I wouldn't call my relationship with either of them really close.  By the time I was in my late twenties, both of my grandmothers and my grandfather were gone.  Over the years, I'd seen many of my friends have tight knit relationships with at least one grandparent...and envied them terribly.

When it came around to my kids, I'd hoped it would be different.  One of the biggest heartbreaks was having my dad pass away before the kids were born.  Not only was he an altogether good guy, but he adored kids and would have been the best grandfather.  As for my mom, when I was pregnant with SweetPea, she was still living in Hawaii and we were living in Boston...practically a world away.  She eventually sold her house and moved to Boston...only to have us move away to Houston.  If there's any upside to the situation, the kids have been able to see her at least once every year since we've been gone.  Right after Lil Buddy was born, she came to visit...last year we went to visit her in Boston... and in a few weeks, she'll be back here to stay for a week.  For her part, she talks to the kids all the time on the phone or over the internet using Skype and a web cam.  But...I can't help but feeling like it's not the same as having Grammy right there to visit all the time.  On The Man's side, I can't say things are any better.  His parents divorced when he was pretty young and his dad has never been a presence in his life...and hasn't been in his grandkids' lives (no big shocker there).  As for his mom, who lives about 45 minutes away on the other side of Houston, let's just say there's a lot of family drama and dysfunctional behavior going on...and we had to make a very tough decision to limit the kids' exposure to it.  The bottom line...my kids have little or no direct grandparent interaction...and that...is very sad.

I find myself being envious, yet again, when I see friends who have kids that get to spend a lot of quality time with their grandparents...and the friends I know who have grandkids of their own and get to enjoy being with them.  Whenever we are out and about and we run into older people...people who likely have grandkids of their own...who stop and visit with the kids in passing...it always makes me well up.  I just want my kids to have a chance of having a close bond with at least one of their grandparents...one that can step up and be a positive force in SweetPea and Lil Buddy's lives.

Don't Know Whatcha Got 'Til it's Gone

And now that song will be stuck in your head too. :oP

As I was puttering around in the kitchen the other day (which I shouldn't do because inevitably I gain 5 lbs) I nearly slipped in a pool of water on the floor. This pool of water was in front of my dishwasher. My dishwasher that was running at the time. Crap. Then I noticed a bulge in the linoleum in front of the dishwasher also. Double crap.

I think the dishwasher might be my favorite appliance, next to the fridge, that is. Over the weekend Jim took out the dishwasher to assess the damage. Yup, gonna need to replace the floor over there. And the dishwasher too, which had been leaking for sometime but wasn't visible. Why oh why did you have to die dear dishwasher? Don't you understand I need you!!!

We were able to purchase a new dishwasher over the weekend and it will be delivered tomorrow. Yay right? Wrong. We can't install it until we fix the floor. And we can't fix the floor until next weekend, at the very soonest. This also means that I can't use the side of the sink with the disposal because the hose connected to the dishwasher was removed and all of the water will spill down into the cabinet below.

So I'm without my best friend who has now left me to fend for myself when it comes to clean dishes. So not cool. I do not like washing dishes, let alone hand washing them. There's an odd smell that comes from hand washing dishes, and maybe it's just me, but it's a smell that makes me want to gag. And this week started out so promising. :oP

I've realized how spoiled I was by my friend and will never ever take her for granted again. Yes, the dishwasher is definitely female because there's no way a man could ever get dishes that clean. So hug your dishwasher tonight and tell her you love her. Because now, in addition to all of the other fabulous household chores, I will now be washing dishes by hand. "Please don't die washing machine, please don't die. I don't have a river or rocks to beat clothes with in the backyard." *sigh*

To Win or Not to Win

I'm the oldest of four children and I'm also the only girl. I remember very vividly being holed up with one or all of my brothers growing and and playing marathons of different board games growing up. The sound of the dice hitting the board, the smell of the shared bowl of popcorn, and the shouts of play are all still fresh in my mind. I was the oldest kid, so I always won, that's just the way that it was.

My boys are now just reaching that age where the competitiveness of board games and brothers is thrilling and together we all often play long games of Chutes and Ladders, Guess Who, Battleship, or whatever is found in the stack of games.

It wasn't long ago that I saw my husband, Mike, and Brayden playing a heated game of Uno before Brayden excused himself for a minute to grab a drink. He was losing, bad. It was pretty obvious from his stack of cards and Mike lack there of that the game would not end in the seven year olds favor if it continued on the way it was.

I told Mike that he should let Brayden win.

Now I know that this can be a heated debate among many moms and I know that sometimes you just have to let your child lose to allow him to build up sportsmanship and learn how not to be a sore loser. But isn't winning from time to time just as important to?

For three years now Brayden has no longer been an only child. His toys are shared, his undivided attention from his parents is now divided now between his brother and himself, heck his bedroom isn't even his and his alone anymore. Not only did winning this small game of Uno allow Brayden to have some one on one time with his Dad, but I hope that winning would give him that much needed boost in self pride.

In throwing that game, a seemingly small thing, a huge thing emerges within that child. Confidence.

So Mamas, do you ever throw the game so that your kiddo can win?

Chipotle-fy Your Chilly Insides

This spicy, slow-cooked beef is perfect for the dreary, cold days of January. Is everyone else cold and wet? If it rains anymore here, I may consider building an ark.

I love this beef because it makes a lot, it freezes well and you can use it for burritos, tacos or nachos. We also used it in quesadillas, more nachos (we love nachos), and breakfast burritos (also amazing). And last time I got creative and made soup with it. (also posted below) We don't usually eat a lot of red meat, but I could seriously eat this stuff daily. Especially since it gets better after a day or two.

Shredded Chipotle Beef Burritos
adapted from BHG.com

1 1/2 lb roast or steaks
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes, undrained
1/3 c chopped onion
1 or 2 canned chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
1 tsp oregano
1/2 tsp cumin
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp salt
1/3 c chopped fresh cilantro
juice from 1 small lime
warm tortillas
fresh pico de gallo or salsa
guacamole
sour cream
shredded cheese

Trim meat of fat and strange gummy parts and cut into about 6 pieces. Place meat in a 2.5-4 qt slow cooker. Add undrained tomatoes, onion, chipotle peppers, oregano, cumin, garlic, and salt. Cover and cook on low heat for 7-8 hours. Remove meat from slow cooker, shred with a couple of forks and return to pot. Cook for an additional hour or so until heated through and flavor has incorporated into the meat. Add cilantro and lime juice. Serve on tortillas with pico, guac, sour cream and cheese. (And anything else you feel like putting on there)

Nat's Notes:
1. I decided that chipotle peppers rock. You can use them in place of diced green chilies in about anything. They add smokey, spicy flavor to stuff. Mmm. They're super hot, though, so go easy on them.
2. The leftovers we had were AMAZING on nachos. I would have made quesadillas, too, but we ate it up too fast.
3. They tend to drip quite a bit, so you might not want to make them for people who are wearing nice clothes and aren't sitting at a table. Oops.

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This soup tastes like a southwest version of beef vegetable soup, but instead of chewy beef cubes, it has shreds of melt-in-your-mouth steak. Feel free to add any vegetables you have on hand. I had potatoes and carrots, so that's what I used. I think some greens like kale or Swiss chard would also work well in this.

This soup is seriously so good. I froze some of my leftovers just so I could quickly make this soup again in a few weeks. Speaking of quick -- this one is under 30 minutes. Hooray!

Chipotle Steak and Potato Soup
an original recipe by Natalie

Olive oil
1/2 c chopped onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 c matchstick carrots
Salt and pepper
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 - 1 tsp. minced chipotle pepper
1 14 oz can beef broth
1 14 oz can chicken broth
1 large baking potato cut into 1/2-inch cubes (about 2-3 cups)
1 1/2 c leftover shredded chipotle beef (recipe here)
1/4 c chopped cilantro
Shredded pepper jack cheese and sour cream (optional)

Drizzle some olive oil in the bottom of a large sauce pan and heat to medium-high heat. Add onion, garlic, and carrots; add a pinch of salt and pepper. Saute vegetables until tender and onions begin to brown a little.

Add cumin and chipotle pepper; cook and stir for about a minute. Add beef broth, chicken broth, potatoes, and beef. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 10-15 minutes or until potatoes are cooked through and flavors have combined.

Garnish with cilantro, shredded cheese, and sour cream. Serves 4.

Nat's Notes:
1. I used both chicken and beef broths because I had some leftover chicken broth I needed to use up in the fridge. You could use all beef or all chicken broth if you like. I think that using some chicken broth keeps it from getting too rich, but it might also be really good that way. Let me know if you try it like that.

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Put Your Clothes Back On!

This week, I was planning on doing a "Must Have For New Moms" type article, but after the past few couple of days that I've had, its just not going to happen.

My angel 3 year old *insert eye roll here*, refuses to keep her clothes on. Obviously I couldn't use a picture of her naked, so I used one of her that we took immediately after putting her pajamas on. Shortly after the picture was taken, she took her pants off. But she left her shirt on! So we're making progress...

We get her dressed in the morning, she takes her clothes off as soon as we turn our backs. We put her in her bedroom for quiet time (our attempt at giving nap time a tricky name, its not working by the way, she refuses to nap too, and shes certainly not quiet), she emerges naked. She goes into the bathroom to use the potty, she comes out naked.

Put your clothes back on!

When we ask her why she takes her clothes off, she usually replies with "because I wasn't cold". We've explained to her that we wear clothes for reasons other than being cold. "Do you see people walking around naked? When we leave the house, do you ever see naked people? We wear clothes to express ourselves, we wear clothes to cover our bare skin, we wear clothes because we wear clothes".

She still takes off her clothes.

So we made a rule. If she takes her clothes off, then we take her clothes away, usually for the rest of the day. If she doesn't have any clothes to wear, then she can't leave the house. And just because she can't leave the house, doesn't mean we can't leave the house.

So yesterday, since it was so sunny and warm, Charlie and I went outside to play with sidewalk chalk in the driveway. Eleanore stayed inside, naked, and by herself.

Start the tantrum! Its going to be a good one...

Whenever I go outside and leave Eleanore inside, I crack the window (ya know, like when you leave the puppy in the car? hee hee) so that we can still communicate, and she doesn't feel completely shut off.

Crying crying crying crying.

This isn't the first time we've gone through this. Maybe you should have learned your lesson the first time then, huh?

Well as soon as Daddy gets home, she hears his voice, and kicks the tantrum into full gear. Don't hold back girl, give us everything you've got!

As hard as she was crying, and as angry as she was, I never expected these next set of words to come out of her mouth...

"I peed on the floor!".

YOU WHAT?!

You have got to be kidding me child. When we asked her why she peed on the floor (and all over herself, and her toys), she said "because I was mad". Well, I don't know about you, but I don't care how mad she is, shes been potty trained for almost a year now, and it is in NO WAY acceptable. Her punishment for that, was to clean it up herself. Her Daddy got her a towel, and she sure did have to clean it up all by herself. She was very good about it though, and while she was crying and whining about having to step in the mess she made, she soaked it all up. Daddy followed up behind her with another towel, and cleaner, and that was the end of that. I think he handled it very well.

Now. Seriously kid. I repeat, put your clothes back on!

This is MY Brother...But Not My Friend

OK, so that might not be a fair assessment.  If you were to ask her, SweetPea would tell you that Lil Buddy is her friend...but apparently  "friend" means "I'll play with you when I feel like it and when I don't you should just go away and be happy with it."

Back when SweetPea was an only child, we grappled over whether we should have another baby.  Our number one reason for having another...so she wouldn't be alone.  It seemed like a logical move...and from the day he was born, SweetPea made a point to tell everyone within earshot "this is MY baby brother."  Bottom line, I'm pretty sure she likes the kid....or most of the time anyway.  For his part, he adores his big sister.  If he had it his way, he'd be everywhere she is.  Unfortunately...she doesn't always see it that way.  They've both reached that magical age (almost two and almost four) where they're both mobile and want to play with other kids, which is right at the point where I figured I was home free...where they'd entertain each other for hours and I'd be able to sit back and enjoy doing...well whatever it is I thought I'd be doing.  Instead...I get this... "MOOOOM...Lil Buddy is touching my Polly House." or "MOOOOM he won't stop following me!" or even better, I hear Lil Buddy screeching at the top of his lungs after his sister snatched something away that she didn't want him to have.  Of course, the battle goes both ways...and Lil Buddy has learned that he can get his sister's attention...albeit negative attention...by taking his sister's things and running, which he thinks is a totally fun game. SIGH!

So now...we're trying to teach them how to play nicely together....how to share toys...how to be more patient with one another.  We're also trying to teach them that they each have special toys (the Polly house for one) that each needs to respect...and ask permission before they attempt to play with them.  Of course, this sounds all fine and diplomatic, but the truth is, at least half the time it ends in tears and little people being sent to their rooms.

Then...for maybe five or ten minutes each day, something miraculous happens...out of nowhere they will start playing nicely with each other...the sound of giggling will hit a fever pitch...they will have a good time...then someone will cross that invisible line of "too much" and it will all fall apart...and I'm left daydreaming that maybe tomorrow it will be fifteen or maybe twenty minutes of "playing nice".

Hey, I can dream can't I?

A Clean Sweep

At a time of resolutions, goals and new beginnings, perhaps having a cleaner home is on your list. Your own personal haven of happiness and cleanliness where fairies do all the work so you don't have to. But if the fairies go on strike, it's always a good idea to have a back-up plan. I think I may have killed off my fairies with the smell of the Diaper Champ. Either that or they found the tasks too daunting and quit.

In any event, I found this book called 1001 Simple Solutions for a Clean and Clutter-Free Home. It was in the bargain books section at Barnes and Noble (my favorite section of the store) and just skimming through it, I found some really neat tricks and figured it was worth trying out. There are a LOT of really great tips in here, from making your own dish detergent to prolonging the life of cut flowers with vinegar and sugar. It covers every room in your house and a few extras like keeping ants out using chalk or removing gum from your carpet using peanut butter.


I'm mostly stuck in the kitchen section of the book, but I thought I would share some of my favorite tricks.

1. Remove stubborn stains in the microwave by placing a bowl of hot water inside and heating on HIGH for 5 minutes. Let stand for a few minutes, then wipe clean. Get rid of odors by adding lemon juice to the water.
2. To keep cake from drying out, fasten a slice of bread, to the cut edge of cake, with toothpicks.
3. When sauce refuses to come out of the bottle, push a drinking straw right to the bottom and then take it out again. This adds enough air to get it flowing.
4. Wrap fruit and vegetables with newspaper before storing in the bottom of the fridge and they will last longer.
5. Include some sprigs of fresh mint in a picnic basket when eating al fresco. Bees and wasps will stay away from your food if you place mint on the picnic basket.
6. Empty the kitchen trash can and mix up a cleaner-and-water solution inside. Now mop the floor. While you're mopping away, the dirt in the trash can will loosen. Drain and scrub with a stiff brush, rinse in running water, and dry with a cloth
7. Fatty wastes can build up inside a garbage disposer so occasionally grind a handful of ice cubes and baking soda. Together they will safely scour the inside of your unit.
8. Restore luster to chrome trim on faucets and kitchen appliances by polishing with baby oil and a soft cloth. Remove any rust spots with crumpled-up foil.

If you happen to come by and my house is still a mess, it's because I haven't given up hope on the fairies.

Cooking Up a Memory

Growing up in a large family with three younger brothers was joyful chaos. Though our home life was a far cry from the mannerly fashion of the Cleaver residence from the classic T.V. series Leave It to Beaver and more like the Connor family from Roseanne, my mother was the embodiment of June Cleaver when it came to cooking the most amazing meals night after night. Each day when I would come home from school she would be standing at the countertop kneading dough for the fresh, hot bread that would accompany a home cooked supper, or stirring homemade speghetti sauce that had been cooking on the stove all day long which was always made from the finest ingredients and prepared from scratch with plenty of love.

I was always eager to join in the process of cooking, and I will be forever grateful to my mother who always allowed me (after a thorough scrubbing of my grubby paws had taken place) to do just that. Though it was not the birth of my passion for cooking, it was certainly then that she began to lay the foundation for teaching me how to cook, a skill that has proven to be invaluable. But even more important than learning to master the perfect lasagna, or knowing just how long the rice ought to simmer before the lid should be lifted, were the fostering of affectionate moments and cherished memories I have come to treasure.

As a young child it was the self-satisfaction I gained as I was able to crack an egg into the bowl with one hand without the slightest shard of shell, or the pleasure I discovered in sampling the finished product, and especially in the overwhelming feelings of gratification and victory I gleaned as I watched loved ones enjoy my completed meal. As I became older, it became more about the experience of sharing in intimate and exclusive conversations with my mother while we carefully and lovingly produced our culinary creations together. I would confide in her, and she would share with me her wisdom about life, relationships and cooking; things which will remain infinitely intertwined for me.

Now as an adult with young children of my own, I allow them every opportunity to cook alongside me whenever they have the desire. There are times when they all want to have their hands in on the action and times when only one of my two children gravitate to the kitchen to participate. With each completed dish comes a memory and forever attached are those precious giggles when the cake batter goes flying from the thrashing beaters, the widening of eyes as the bread rises in the oven, the confidence they display when trusted to handle a “very important duty”, the smiles as they partake of their tasty concoctions. I love to be present while they cook up those same memories I did as a child, as all their senses are tickled with the delights of taking part in the sweet experience of “cookin’ with mama.” The messes are only temporary, but those tender impressions are for keeps.

Living in a World of Magic

In our household, magic is everywhere.

It all started with 4-year-old Gracie's ten billion imaginary friends, which are not only magical in their imaginary-yet-still-Gracie's-BFF-ness, but are all magical in their own right anyway. Her best friend is Wendy from Peter Pan, her boyfriend is Harry Potter, and she has spent many special days running through the wardrobe into Narnia with her pals, Lucy and Mr. Tumnus.

Every moment of every day is a moment for magic.

I encourage Gracie and Annelie to see the world through magic-tinted goggles. I'm not worried about them growing up delusional... I know they have a firm grasp on reality. But adding fairy tales and fantasy into every day life, just makes our days so much more interesting.

Something as boring as a car journey to the grocery store can become an unplanned horseback ride through the magical, mystical world of Trollville (okay, I'm not so good at naming places creatively), where the king of the trolls is keeping Queen Rosalina, ruler of the fairy folk, hostage until he gets a billion diamonds and rubies. Hidden corners of the back garden become secret villages where the fairy folk dance every night in the moonlight. Dragons need to be fought in order to save the flower people, who have been hiding in their houses in fright. Gracie and Annelie become mermaids with every bath.... adventures are everywhere and life is a magical journey.

My kids play pretend like its going out of style and they need to make every last moment count. It is so fun for me to see their imaginations grow more and more with every magical adventure they have. I love the creativity that goes into a preschool-aged child seeing the world through magic-tinted goggles - it certainly makes life a little more wonderful.

Do your kids live in a world of magic, too? Share with us in the comments!

xoxo,

Zuppa Toscana

Here's another Olive Garden "copycat" for you. Well, sort of. I combined a couple recipes I had for this soup to fit my tastes and it turned out amazing. I'm not sure how closely it mirrors OG's, but it's awfully good.

This soup is rich, creamy and the flavors just pop, for lack of a better word. The type of sausage and chicken broth you use are important as the majority of the flavor in the soup come from those two. So get good quality broth and sausage that you like.

This soup also has kale in it. If you've never had kale, here's a (slightly wilted. . . the kale, not the photo) shot of this good-for-you green:

Never used kale? It's easy to prep, just take a hold of the stem like so:

rip off the leaves from the stem, then chop them up however you want. Easy. One of the things I like about kale is that it's a tough green. Tougher than spinach and won't turn slimy when you add it to soup -- even after 20 minutes of simmering. And don't be afraid to use a lot. Like just about all greens, the mountain you have sitting on your cutting board won't take up that much space once it's cooked.



P.S. If you're one of those silly people who goes on a diet January 1st, you can surely substitute the cream for milk. Fat-free evaporated milk would be better, actually. But not as good as cream :)

Zuppa Toscana (Tuscan Soup)
compiled from multiple sources

1 lb uncooked Italian sausage (sweet or spicy)
3 slices uncooked bacon, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes (see note)
2 medium russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 cups fresh chopped kale, about 1/2 bunch
4 cups chicken broth (or 3 1/2 cups chicken broth + 1/2 c white wine)
1 1/2 cups water
1 cup heavy cream
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium heat. Add bacon to the pot and cook for about 4-5 minutes until it starts to render off its fat. Remove sausage from casings and crumble into pot. Cook until the sausage is well-browned and the bacon is crisp, about 5-6 more minutes. Remove sausage and bacon from the pot with a spider or slotted spoon and transfer to a bowl; set aside.

Add onion to the pot and saute until tender, about 6-7 minutes. Add garlic and red pepper flakes and cook for another minute. Add 1/2 c of the chicken broth (or wine, if using) to the pan and stir, scraping the bits off the bottom of the pan. Add the remaining broth, potatoes, kale, water to the pot. Return the sausage and bacon to the pot as well. Increase heat to medium-high and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for about 20 minutes or until potatoes are fork-tender. Stir in heavy cream and season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve with crusty French bread if you like.

Serves 6.

Nat's Notes:
1. If you use spicy sausage, take that into consideration when you add the red pepper flakes, holding back if necessary.

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Whose Team Are You On?

It's an epic struggle...and I'm not talking about that silly debate about vampires and werewolves.  Oh no, this one, my friends, is older...and the fate of young minds is at stake.  OK...not really, but it's been a point of contention in my house lately...so the battle rages on...and the question I pose to you is this...are you on Team Steve or Team Joe? (yes, it presumes that you your kids even watch Blues Clues)

The show's been a big hit in our house ever since SweetPea was about one.  When Lil Buddy came along, he quickly fell in love with Blue too...even more than his sister did.  For the longest time, he didn't care whether it was Steve or Joe hosting the show...just as long as he got to see Blue...until about a month ago.  Out of the blue (sorry, I couldn't resist), he started getting agitated whenever an episode of Blues Clues came on that didn't have Joe in it.  At first, I totally didn't get it.  I'd ask "do you want me to turn Blue off?" and he's shake his head violently and say "noooooooooo".  One day he says "JOE!" and it hit me...he wasn't upset because he didn't want to see Blue anymore...he just didn't want to see Steve.  Conclusion: Lil Buddy is in the Team Joe camp all the way...which got me wondering...why exactly is Joe top dog?  I have some theories...

1. Steve only had the striped green shirt and khakis. Joe, on the other hand...got to wear his super swell square shirt in all sorts of colors...red, yellow, green, orange, blue, purple (the purple one is my favorite)

2. Joe's handy dandy notebook was nicer.  Steve got the snoozer green cover with the picture of the Thinking Chair on it.  Joe got the cool notebook that looked like the Thinking Chair.  In "Meet Blue's Baby Brother" (a big favorite around here), they even gave him a sparkly gold version of the notebook.  Pretty keen.

3.  In Joe's lifetime on the show, he actually got to meet the talking Blue (thanks to Blue's Room).  Personally, I always wondered why everyone...the salt and pepper shakers, the mailbox and even the freakin soap could talk, but none of the dogs (Blue, Magenta and Green Puppy) could...until Blue's Room.  For his part...even though he's all Team Joe, Lil Buddy is not hip to Blue's Room.  I guess the talking Blue is not for him.

4.  Joe had better hair...and more of it.  Yeah, it's a low blow...but true.  Seeing Steve's hair slowly disappear over the years was a little sad.

5.  Joe just seemed like a happier guy.  Sure, Steve was pretty peppy in the beginning (looking back at the old episodes, I kinda wonder if he was tripping on X...but that's just me), but there was always an air of "I'm being beat down by the soul crushing angst of being an insanely popular character on a killer hit kid's TV show when I'd rather be a hip indie rock god like Billy Corgan" to him.  Boo freakin hoo Steve-o...Bob from Sesame Street has been on that damn show since before I was born and is still as cheery as ever...get over it.  By the time Steve "went to college" it was obvious that he didn't want to be there anymore.  Joe, on the other hand...was his happy Joe self until the very end.

The more I think about it...the more I tend to agree...Team Joe is the place to be.  Either that or this whole thing is proof that I've watched WAY too many episodes of Blues Clues and really need to get a life.

Now it's time for so long...

Calling Cards and 20 Dollar Bills

I'm a pretty organized person, unfortunately, the rest of my family, not so much. Nothing irks me more than to see the newly folded laundry dumped out all over the floor or the playroom yet again in disarray after cleaning it less than an hour ago. With two kids, usually you don't know who the culprit is, except that my youngest leaves a calling card. Next to that big mess, like a beacon, is usually a used diaper. Fortunately, it's normally just wet, but still not that fun to find. Why can't she use 20 dollar bills as calling cards? Perhaps swiped from my husbands wallet or something. That would be super fun! I might even forget about the mess.

We're in the midst of potty training right now (oh joy) and we've found that the best way to train Ryah is to keep her bottomless. So the fact that she removes her diapers is a good sign she doesn't want to be in them. She's also one of those nekkid children who sheds clothes faster than you can put them on her. So at any given time, she's likely to be bare-assed and livin' free running through my living room. Those unexpected drop in visitors usually get more than they bargained for. See, you should have called first.

On the off chance I manage to get a dress on her, to at least cover her bottom, she's more likely than not going to do a somersault or lay on her back, feet flailing, in front of company. I think that's usually more shocking than had she been naked to begin with. At least there wouldn't be any Basic Instinct surprises. "Whoa, where's her diaper?" "Probably next to the toys she just dumped out all over the floor."

I have the whole scenario in my head. Ryah looks to the left, then the right, to make sure the coast is clear. Then she smiles "the big cheese," turns into Tornado Ryah, and checks again to make sure no one is looking while she removes her diaper to mark her territory. I guess it beats her actually peeing on it.

While this time around, potty training is a bit easier, it's certainly has it's calling card downfalls. Not to mention the inevitable naptime whine, "Mommmeeeee, Ryah's poopy!!!" And when I hear that, I already know it's too late, she's no longer wearing the diaper. Ugh.

Let's just hope for her sake, and mine, that we get this potty training thing nailed sooner rather than later. Unless she starts leaving 20 dollar bills lying around. I think I might be okay with that.

Zzzzzzzzzzzz

I'm tired.
I'm talking all out, falling over myself sleepy tired.
And I'm on my last leg.
Gage doesn't sleep, well that is, something he gets from his insomniac momma.

I don't really sleep, often getting only a handful of hours of slumber a night, a side effect of an anxiety issue I deal with (and I refuse to take sleeping pills for fear I won't be able to wake up should something happen). So when I do finally pass out, because that's what I do, pass out after tossing and turning in bed and thinking all sorts of ridiculous thoughts, I pass out hard.

5 out of the 7 days in a week Gage usually wakes up right after I've fallen asleep and ends up in the bed with me.
2 out of the 7 days in a week Brayden usually joins him.

Today my eyelids are drooping over my bowling ball heavy eyes and my head is swirling with a sickening dizzy I need sleep right this very second feeling.
Mike gets up and goes to work long before the sun rises, so unfortunately the husband is of no help to me, outside of letting me catch an afternoon nap, if he's not working at his second job that is.

If my kids do not sleep tonight ...
I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND
If Gage does not stay in his bed ...
If Brayden wakes up in the hullabaloo and follows his brother ...
If I have to witness the sun rise first hand ...
I AM GOING TO FREAK OUT ...
and turn into crazy sleep depraved psycho mother!!

So mommas .... how do your kids to stay in their beds? I need your wisdom here, for sanity's sake!
Please! Don't make me beg!!!

Originally posted on Oh Mandie

Being Two

Me and my big brother, circa 1983

The other day, Annelie (2 - almost 3) came over to me and said, "Mommy, look at me, look at me!" She was wearing one of my dresses from when I was two. I didn't even remember I still had that dress... she just dug it out of some random unpacked moving box and stuck it on.

It was funny seeing her in my dress. While I don't remember actually wearing it, the photo above has been a framed portrait in my mom's house since I was a little girl, so the dress was no stranger. Where Annelie pulled it out from, I have no idea (ew, can you say moth balls?), but seeing my youngest daughter, the one who looks and acts the most like me, wearing my dress from when I was the same age... well, it was a little big strange. And very cool.

Naturally, like any camera-happy mother, I had to snap a few photos.

In only a few weeks, Annelie won't be two any more. I'm not gonna lie... I look forward to the days when Annelie-Age-Two will only be a memory. As much as it freaks me out that my little girl is growing up, I'm so excited be done with the impulsive two-year-old behavior (at least until she is a teenager and the impulsive two-year-old behavior comes back again... but I have some time for that, still).

I can't wait to see what kind of little girl she grows into. She's smart (so stinkin' smart) and funny (SO darned funny), she is beginning to show the signs of a talented artist and singer (creative genius!), and she can sing the alphabet perfectly (okay, I pretend not to hear when the letters blur during the ENEMENNOWPEE part) - the world is her oyster and it is just starting to open.

In the meantime, I now have to sing Rock-a-Bye Big Girl, because we aren't allowed to use the 'baby' word around her anymore - she is NOT a baby, says she. I try to explain that she's not a baby, but she is MY baby.... that doesn't fly.

Two is a funny age for kids, don't you think? Especially when they are on the brink of being three. Still too young to be independent, but too independent to be babied.

Such funny little creatures, those two year olds.

xoxo,

Its Going to be a Long 7 Months

(this picture was taken during my last pregnancy, in December 2008)

Remember your first pregnancy? How you could freely take naps in the afternoon? You could ban entire food groups from the house until your morning sickness had completely passed? You wondered "how on earth could women with more than one child do this?"...

Being pregnant and chasing after 2 kids at the same time, sucks. There is no candy coating the situation. Even with my last pregnancy, while I had a 2 year old to supervise/raise, it was easier. I could nap on the couch while she watched Yo Gabba Gabba. I'd trained her to do things in a fashion that supported my lazy lifestyle.

Well those days are long gone.

Not only do I have 2 kids to take care of this time around, but one of them is still a baby. Turning one year old only a week ago, he doesn't understand any bit of "Mommy is tired", nor would he care if he did. To make things worse, when my nausea is kicked into high gear, he lets loose on his diaper, and I swear to God he laughs about it after I've run out of the room holding my breath praying that I'll make it to the bathroom in time. This morning when the kids woke me up, Charlie in his room crying because "waaaaah, I'm in my bedroom all alone, the world is ending, waaaaah", and Eleanore jumping up and down on her bed singing songs about "its a beautiful day, to laugh, and play! Its a beautiful day, to LAUGH and PLAAAAY!", I had to carry the baby down the stairs. Carrying 27 pounds of curious leaning-over-as-far-as-he-possibly-can-to-see-down-the-stairs-baby, is not a nice way to start the morning. Not only could I have slept for an additional 20 hours, but upon waking, my stomach feels like its twisted completely inside out, and what is that horrible taste in my mouth anyways?!

Yesterday Eleanore and I made cookies for her Daddy, who was starting a new class at work. Normally, I'd eat at least 5 cookies worth of dough, and then equal or more than that after they came out of the oven. But no, all I could think of the entire time, was chicken ceasar salad. To try and show my body who was boss, I took a bite of cookie anyways. BAD IDEA. Can you guess what happened next? It wasn't pretty.

My parents got Eleanore the movie "A Little Princess" for Christmas. I loved that movie when I was little, which is why my dad picked it out for her. Yesterday I got out blankets and asked Eleanore to snuggle up with me on the couch while we watched it. A few minutes into it, she had kicked the blanket off, because it wasn't the blanket she wanted, and then a few minutes after that, had wandered off to play with toys. There I was, crying at the not-even-sad-yet parts, smothering myself in abandoned blanket. I asked my husband to come watch it with me next, since I was apparently watching it alone now, and after a few minutes of sitting at my feet, he wandered off to look up football crap on the computer. It doesn't matter that hes watched every game in existence, and every post game wrap up on every sports channel that our cable programming will let him see, he just couldn't sit with me for even 10 minutes to help me calm down, could he? Eleanore saw that I was sad, and brought me pony friends to keep me company (thank you Eleanore, I wish it was you cuddling me, but a big talking pony will have to do), and when the movie was over, she yelled at Daddy "why didn't you watch the movie with Mommy?", after I had stormed upstairs to cry in the comforts of my flannel sheets. "You didn't watch it with me either, Eleanore!", I would have answered had I been able to breathe through my sobbing tears.

And then a 2 hour nap later (ok, so even though he didn't watch the cry baby little girl movie with me, having Christopher home a couple hours early seemed to work out to my advantage after all), I was back to normal. No more crazy lady mood swings, no more chocolate chip cookie standoffs, I was better!

...until a half hour later when I got a wiff of dirty diaper. Dangit! Its going to be a long 7 months.