Wednesday, February 24, 2010
mad morning
It is my late day at work, which means it is the man's turn to wrangle the children together for school. Leif gets to ride along so I have a chance to shower without a hail of tiny fists on the door. The infink charged around with his head down and arms back like a speed skater, wailing "datdatdatdatdat!" and stopping to shoot at Gavin with both fists. Gavin went into death throes with his toothbrush jutting from his mouth. The cat had knocked over the food bucket and was spread out in it on her belly, scootching forward on her cat toes and snarking down nuggets. Despite all this, somehow, miraculously, everyone was be-shoed and be-backpacked with ten minutes to spare. So the man stood there watching the kids play "punch you in the balls" until it was time to go - then decided to sit down and fill out a 3-page permission form. "What's 'an effective form of discipline' for Gavin?" he asked, pen poised. I looked at the boy, rolling on the floor clutching his rooster bits while Leif stomped and clapped in delight. "Logical consequences."
Monday, February 22, 2010
Home again
Have returned to the homestead, which, in a week, was littered with lizard and centipede corpses and smug cats. The spiders attempted full-fledged overthrow. Had to shake them out of the pans to cook dinner, and spent ten minutes chasing them out of the bathtub before turning on the water. Wily beasties. At 7:30pm, Leif took me by the finger and led me to bed, where I last remember wondering in a detached manner whether it sounded like I was falling asleep between lyrics of our bedtime song. Woke at midnight to a dark house, still in my jeans and cardigan. Someone had put pajamas on the pillow next to me. D'aww. Considering I normally wake up if I hear one of the cats stretch, this is Big News for me.
*edited to add: I have been informed by the man-person that I was comatose and unresponsive to nudges, crooning, proding, and using my own arm to slap my face. That's nice, isn't it? I could have been dead, and he didn't even ask.
Forgot to mention
Least favorite moment of trip: Continental Airlines has nifty little maps of the country with a little airplane flying across it on a dotted line, so you can see where you are. I like that. I did not like waking up to turbulence, opening my eyes to check the screen for assurance, and seeing an inflight arcade game.
AUUUGHH! We're going to die!! Why would they ANIMATE that?!
*edited to add: I have been informed by the man-person that I was comatose and unresponsive to nudges, crooning, proding, and using my own arm to slap my face. That's nice, isn't it? I could have been dead, and he didn't even ask.
Forgot to mention
Least favorite moment of trip: Continental Airlines has nifty little maps of the country with a little airplane flying across it on a dotted line, so you can see where you are. I like that. I did not like waking up to turbulence, opening my eyes to check the screen for assurance, and seeing an inflight arcade game.
AUUUGHH! We're going to die!! Why would they ANIMATE that?!
Mutual humiliation
last day in New York.
We climbed into the minivan for a drive down to breakfast. My head was bobbling like a water balloon full of hurt on my jetlagged body. Caffeine was still an hour's drive away. And lo! there was a half-full bottle of Coke Zero, abandoned in the driver's cup holder from two days before. It was probably Sue's, but she didn't need it as badly as I did. I cracked it open (still fizzy!) and took a bolstering slug, then put it back. Aaah, better. Except, no. The man-person ratted me out. "She didn't know who's it was, she just drinks it anyway!" Sue didn't laugh as hard as he did. Because he had just told her I was basically eating her garbage. Add to this - about 7 years ago, I had a gap in my back teeth that had been left over from getting my braces off, and it was the bane of my meat-eating existance. I was like a dragon with splintered knight's limbs always getting stuck in my back teeth. One time, at the lake, I used the corner of a photograph as a flossing device. That picture - which was MINE - happened to be of Rob and Stacy. Mike decided it would be soooo funny to tell Rob and Stacy about how I had picked pork out of my teeth with their heads. They did not laugh, either. Yesterday at the airport, I told him that if he ever humiliated me to his family again, I would let him know with a secret signal. "I'll tell them the tartar sauce story." He shrugged. "I'll tell them the magical vomit fairy story." He looked slightly worried, but not enough. "I'll just start making shit up." He said, "I promise I'll try not to humiliate you anymore." "Thank you."
We climbed into the minivan for a drive down to breakfast. My head was bobbling like a water balloon full of hurt on my jetlagged body. Caffeine was still an hour's drive away. And lo! there was a half-full bottle of Coke Zero, abandoned in the driver's cup holder from two days before. It was probably Sue's, but she didn't need it as badly as I did. I cracked it open (still fizzy!) and took a bolstering slug, then put it back. Aaah, better. Except, no. The man-person ratted me out. "She didn't know who's it was, she just drinks it anyway!" Sue didn't laugh as hard as he did. Because he had just told her I was basically eating her garbage. Add to this - about 7 years ago, I had a gap in my back teeth that had been left over from getting my braces off, and it was the bane of my meat-eating existance. I was like a dragon with splintered knight's limbs always getting stuck in my back teeth. One time, at the lake, I used the corner of a photograph as a flossing device. That picture - which was MINE - happened to be of Rob and Stacy. Mike decided it would be soooo funny to tell Rob and Stacy about how I had picked pork out of my teeth with their heads. They did not laugh, either. Yesterday at the airport, I told him that if he ever humiliated me to his family again, I would let him know with a secret signal. "I'll tell them the tartar sauce story." He shrugged. "I'll tell them the magical vomit fairy story." He looked slightly worried, but not enough. "I'll just start making shit up." He said, "I promise I'll try not to humiliate you anymore." "Thank you."
Sunday, February 21, 2010
New York: the final recall
End of Day 6
I laid on the couch for who-knows-how-many hours (5) while the children waved their wrists at the wii fish on the television. The tropical stomach-inverting flu we brought over was toppling the family like... two big toppling things. [note: am writing at 3am while Leif dances in adorable jetlagged manner around my mother’s livingroom] Kammie built a quarantine fort of pillows around herself. Alexia, being 3 years old and unimpressed by personal space, tore up the pillow fort and then crawled onto me where I was napping to brush my hair up into pigtails and cause an involuntary surge of baby-girl-child-want. When Sal and Jeanie finally arrived, I jumped up, did a happy dance, and waved the baby at them for inspection. Leif arched his eyebrow at Sal and rolled his eyes away disdainfully. Sal clapped his hands in delight, "He's judging me!"
Yes he was. Nice first impression, kid.
Lorenz couldn't make it for the sleepover, because he was sawing the legs off his new Pier 1 couch to get it into his apartment after the mover left it wedged in his door. He missed the imported homebrew and several hours of trash-talking in front of men's Olympic figure skating.
Day 7 - the City
Rolled Sal out of the guest room and went back down to Hillburn to steal the minivan. Sal and I wrestled an infant car seat base and finally had to concede defeat, then Mike reached over our shoulders and unclipped it anticlimactically. Jerk. Into the city! We stopped at a horrifyingly priced parking garage and left the vehicle with some dodgy men in puffy coats who claimed they would park it for us, then hiked through a warren of Soho streets to visit the famed Purl. It was alarmingly eency weency, and the spotted hipster who worked there was stumped when I asked him for sock-weight black yarn, but my eyes went wide and dilated with fiber lust and I spent an embarrassing amount of money anyway.
Lorenz finally made an appearance, and we played tourist. We saw a pillow in a tree.
There was a trip to Anthropologie, where I spun in enchanted-meadow manner through the racks, tried on a stack of dresses I couldn't afford, and still managed to feel fat in a size 4. Bought a tea cup with a scrolly "H" on it, which didn't require me to fit my bottom into it.
Hiked to lunch at a half-underground Thai restaurant with waterfalls for the bathroom sink and table-side flambé for $8 a plate. Gavin ate an entire basket of steamed dumplings, my rice came shaped like a pyramid, and we were all stunned by our sophistocosity.
We made good on a promise of unbridled materialism for the kids, and drove to Time Square to visit the mega-horror Toys R Us. Most terrifying hour of the entire trip. Mascots can tell that I hate them, and invariably stagger past the kids with outstretched arms to envelop me in stiff polyester hugs, breathing facelessly through the fabric on me. Probably because I look sturdy, and they really need something to brace against. After fleeing the giant orange giraffe, we found ourselves at the feet of a life-sized animatronic T-Rex. I know it was a robot. I know it would not break free and eat us. But holy FUCK nothing makes all your "I'm a tasty rabbit" alarms sound like a life-sized animatronic T-Rex. I ran away into Candy Land while the boys stood staring up at it like a bunch of niblets.
Eventually, Gavin was coerced by the manly folk to buy a useless hovering helicopter, and Leif didn't care wtf we bought him because he only wanted to break whatever Gavin got anyway.
Kisses, hugs, promises of future lakeside summer card games, and we were gone again. Would we could have stayed another week just with the friend-types. Oh well.
The flight back
Packed. Repacked. Tossed sweaters and coats into reject piles. Had momentary panic over tight pants until Mike waved his wrists at me from his shrunken shirt. Mysterious effects of dry air? Visited the aloof brother one last time, admired his handiwork in rebuilding an entire house, stole diapers for the infink, and waved goodbye. I got eye contact this time! Drove to Newark, stopped at Dunkin Donuts for last taste of East Coast. Further kisses and hugs, secret whispers between cousins, tears between mother and son, spurring heels from infink, who had had enough of this nonsense. Cruised through 10 hours of sky, curving steeply around the earth against the inexorable roll, peering out at Saskatoon and the mountains of Washington, chasing the setting sun with sleeping children on our laps. We peeled ourselves of clothes in the humid air, the curls returning to frizzy hair and wrinkles smoothing from our weathered faces like time-lapse cream commercials. Home!
It was a fine little vacation. Can now return to normal short-like posts about falling into toilets and chasing hobos. Pictures to come retroactively.
I laid on the couch for who-knows-how-many hours (5) while the children waved their wrists at the wii fish on the television. The tropical stomach-inverting flu we brought over was toppling the family like... two big toppling things. [note: am writing at 3am while Leif dances in adorable jetlagged manner around my mother’s livingroom] Kammie built a quarantine fort of pillows around herself. Alexia, being 3 years old and unimpressed by personal space, tore up the pillow fort and then crawled onto me where I was napping to brush my hair up into pigtails and cause an involuntary surge of baby-girl-child-want. When Sal and Jeanie finally arrived, I jumped up, did a happy dance, and waved the baby at them for inspection. Leif arched his eyebrow at Sal and rolled his eyes away disdainfully. Sal clapped his hands in delight, "He's judging me!"
Yes he was. Nice first impression, kid.
Lorenz couldn't make it for the sleepover, because he was sawing the legs off his new Pier 1 couch to get it into his apartment after the mover left it wedged in his door. He missed the imported homebrew and several hours of trash-talking in front of men's Olympic figure skating.
Day 7 - the City
Rolled Sal out of the guest room and went back down to Hillburn to steal the minivan. Sal and I wrestled an infant car seat base and finally had to concede defeat, then Mike reached over our shoulders and unclipped it anticlimactically. Jerk. Into the city! We stopped at a horrifyingly priced parking garage and left the vehicle with some dodgy men in puffy coats who claimed they would park it for us, then hiked through a warren of Soho streets to visit the famed Purl. It was alarmingly eency weency, and the spotted hipster who worked there was stumped when I asked him for sock-weight black yarn, but my eyes went wide and dilated with fiber lust and I spent an embarrassing amount of money anyway.
Lorenz finally made an appearance, and we played tourist. We saw a pillow in a tree.
There was a trip to Anthropologie, where I spun in enchanted-meadow manner through the racks, tried on a stack of dresses I couldn't afford, and still managed to feel fat in a size 4. Bought a tea cup with a scrolly "H" on it, which didn't require me to fit my bottom into it.
Hiked to lunch at a half-underground Thai restaurant with waterfalls for the bathroom sink and table-side flambé for $8 a plate. Gavin ate an entire basket of steamed dumplings, my rice came shaped like a pyramid, and we were all stunned by our sophistocosity.
We made good on a promise of unbridled materialism for the kids, and drove to Time Square to visit the mega-horror Toys R Us. Most terrifying hour of the entire trip. Mascots can tell that I hate them, and invariably stagger past the kids with outstretched arms to envelop me in stiff polyester hugs, breathing facelessly through the fabric on me. Probably because I look sturdy, and they really need something to brace against. After fleeing the giant orange giraffe, we found ourselves at the feet of a life-sized animatronic T-Rex. I know it was a robot. I know it would not break free and eat us. But holy FUCK nothing makes all your "I'm a tasty rabbit" alarms sound like a life-sized animatronic T-Rex. I ran away into Candy Land while the boys stood staring up at it like a bunch of niblets.
Eventually, Gavin was coerced by the manly folk to buy a useless hovering helicopter, and Leif didn't care wtf we bought him because he only wanted to break whatever Gavin got anyway.
Kisses, hugs, promises of future lakeside summer card games, and we were gone again. Would we could have stayed another week just with the friend-types. Oh well.
The flight back
Packed. Repacked. Tossed sweaters and coats into reject piles. Had momentary panic over tight pants until Mike waved his wrists at me from his shrunken shirt. Mysterious effects of dry air? Visited the aloof brother one last time, admired his handiwork in rebuilding an entire house, stole diapers for the infink, and waved goodbye. I got eye contact this time! Drove to Newark, stopped at Dunkin Donuts for last taste of East Coast. Further kisses and hugs, secret whispers between cousins, tears between mother and son, spurring heels from infink, who had had enough of this nonsense. Cruised through 10 hours of sky, curving steeply around the earth against the inexorable roll, peering out at Saskatoon and the mountains of Washington, chasing the setting sun with sleeping children on our laps. We peeled ourselves of clothes in the humid air, the curls returning to frizzy hair and wrinkles smoothing from our weathered faces like time-lapse cream commercials. Home!
It was a fine little vacation. Can now return to normal short-like posts about falling into toilets and chasing hobos. Pictures to come retroactively.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
New York update #2
Day 5
Stuffed kids into grandma's convertible and accidentally drove partway to Binghamton when we took a wrong exit while fishing for Blistex. Became very excited when we turned around at the Scranton exit. Made terrible Office jokes for ten minutes. Took the kids for pizza at That Pizza Place Next to the Giant Rock That Mike's Dad Took Us To That One Time. This time, minus the lengthy history of the rock, which, as it turns out, was not an ancient sacrificial stone or a boulder dropped by giants in the days of fey; it was too big to dig out, so they made a fence around it. The end. The pizza is good, though.
Went on a quest to find Trader Joe's. Cousin Kammy clucked her tongue dubiously, "It's a grocery store?" then gasped herself into a giddy head rush as we tap-danced from aisle to aisle. I made sad faces in front of the pound-plus chocolate bars, having sworn off cocoa products for Lent. Am a lousy former-Catholic-schoolgirl, though, as it took me an hour to realize why everyone had dirt on their foreheads.
Brought brie and fancy crackers to the Great Aunties' house, and I read an interesting article about Michelin stars in the New Yorker while the kids tried to sword fight with the walkers, eat all the Pepperidge Farms cookies, and find the remote for the 1970s tv. I love visiting the Aunties, they are wily old over-educated spinsters and the very first sort of feminists. Plus, they have a bidet.
Ditched the larger child at Aunt Sue's, and stuffed Leif back into the car for a kosher sushi dinner in Airmont with the Bosses. (The man-person has worked for a local company these past 7 years, only meeting them in person periodically to eat all their food.) Snow billowed in as we gathered the child to ride home at bedtime, and after the two boys were asleep in their seats, we played with the high beams and pretended we were flying at warp speed through the snow, flattening ourselves to our seats and howling AAUUUGHHH! Some time around 10pm, discovered ourselves locked out of the house and phoning grandma from the porch to beg for shelter from the cold. She came down with a lot of makeup on, in a bathrobe instead of her Mickey jimjams. Oh no.
Day 6 - today again
Breakfast at IHOP with great-grandma Mac. Too sweet to be a spitfire, but too fun to be an old fuddy, she and Gavin enjoyed a bit of time twisting straws into dinosaurs and robots while Mike tackled a stack of pancakes, Leif spit out his french toast and stuffed his mouth with packets of sugar and crayons, and I slugged down hazelnut latte until my head was spinning.
We stopped at the fabric store to indulge my yearning for affordable quilting flannel, dropped off great-grandma, and are back at Sue's to let the kids scream at each other over goldfish crackers while Mike delivers homebrew to his bosses. Kammy is hiding upstairs with a bit of the stomach flu we kindly brought over. Tonight the rabble arrives from the city for a grown-up sleepover: booze! gossips! shenanegans! And tomorrow: the city! Exciting.
Stuffed kids into grandma's convertible and accidentally drove partway to Binghamton when we took a wrong exit while fishing for Blistex. Became very excited when we turned around at the Scranton exit. Made terrible Office jokes for ten minutes. Took the kids for pizza at That Pizza Place Next to the Giant Rock That Mike's Dad Took Us To That One Time. This time, minus the lengthy history of the rock, which, as it turns out, was not an ancient sacrificial stone or a boulder dropped by giants in the days of fey; it was too big to dig out, so they made a fence around it. The end. The pizza is good, though.
Went on a quest to find Trader Joe's. Cousin Kammy clucked her tongue dubiously, "It's a grocery store?" then gasped herself into a giddy head rush as we tap-danced from aisle to aisle. I made sad faces in front of the pound-plus chocolate bars, having sworn off cocoa products for Lent. Am a lousy former-Catholic-schoolgirl, though, as it took me an hour to realize why everyone had dirt on their foreheads.
Brought brie and fancy crackers to the Great Aunties' house, and I read an interesting article about Michelin stars in the New Yorker while the kids tried to sword fight with the walkers, eat all the Pepperidge Farms cookies, and find the remote for the 1970s tv. I love visiting the Aunties, they are wily old over-educated spinsters and the very first sort of feminists. Plus, they have a bidet.
Ditched the larger child at Aunt Sue's, and stuffed Leif back into the car for a kosher sushi dinner in Airmont with the Bosses. (The man-person has worked for a local company these past 7 years, only meeting them in person periodically to eat all their food.) Snow billowed in as we gathered the child to ride home at bedtime, and after the two boys were asleep in their seats, we played with the high beams and pretended we were flying at warp speed through the snow, flattening ourselves to our seats and howling AAUUUGHHH! Some time around 10pm, discovered ourselves locked out of the house and phoning grandma from the porch to beg for shelter from the cold. She came down with a lot of makeup on, in a bathrobe instead of her Mickey jimjams. Oh no.
Day 6 - today again
Breakfast at IHOP with great-grandma Mac. Too sweet to be a spitfire, but too fun to be an old fuddy, she and Gavin enjoyed a bit of time twisting straws into dinosaurs and robots while Mike tackled a stack of pancakes, Leif spit out his french toast and stuffed his mouth with packets of sugar and crayons, and I slugged down hazelnut latte until my head was spinning.
We stopped at the fabric store to indulge my yearning for affordable quilting flannel, dropped off great-grandma, and are back at Sue's to let the kids scream at each other over goldfish crackers while Mike delivers homebrew to his bosses. Kammy is hiding upstairs with a bit of the stomach flu we kindly brought over. Tonight the rabble arrives from the city for a grown-up sleepover: booze! gossips! shenanegans! And tomorrow: the city! Exciting.
Monday, February 15, 2010
New York update #1
Am in the snowy wonderland of New Windsor, NY. Stealing a few moments on the house computer to write the happenings while Leif re-files grandma's taxes.
Day 1
The non-stop night flight was smooth, the kids slept the whole way, and Leif rolled off of my boob while I was dozing and left my bare tit hanging completely out in the open for about an hour. You're welcome, toilet-goers.
After hanging out at Sue's house for an hour and letting the kids roll in a knot around the floor, we trooped out to grandma's surprise birthday party. The surprise: about 30 friends and relatives pointing cameras at us when we walked in the restaurant door with her. The waiters were surly and cursed about us in Italian, Sue didn't give a shit and bossed them around anyway, Mike and Rob (big brother), cleared their throats at each other in greeting, and I almost passed out face-first into the shortcake during a bout of exhaustion.
Day 1
The non-stop night flight was smooth, the kids slept the whole way, and Leif rolled off of my boob while I was dozing and left my bare tit hanging completely out in the open for about an hour. You're welcome, toilet-goers.
After hanging out at Sue's house for an hour and letting the kids roll in a knot around the floor, we trooped out to grandma's surprise birthday party. The surprise: about 30 friends and relatives pointing cameras at us when we walked in the restaurant door with her. The waiters were surly and cursed about us in Italian, Sue didn't give a shit and bossed them around anyway, Mike and Rob (big brother), cleared their throats at each other in greeting, and I almost passed out face-first into the shortcake during a bout of exhaustion.
Here's the main cast for the bulk of the vacation: Sue (sister), Shane (sister's husband), Stacy (tiny brother's wife), Rob (not-tiny brother), me (looking gigantico and trying to stay upright), Mike (man-person), Barb (mil), rabble of young cousins.
Day 2
I put to work my vacation plans of hiding in the couch with my knitting. In the afternoon, Rob took us all out bowling, and nearly got into a fight with a pack of drunks in the next lane who yelled at us for having kids within their 15-foot staggering zone. Sue and I kind of hoped he would beat them about the head with his police badge, but he didn't. I almost swatted Rob's bum about 6 times because he was wearing the same colors as Mike and they look the same from behind, if slightly photoshopped to different scales.
Day 2
I put to work my vacation plans of hiding in the couch with my knitting. In the afternoon, Rob took us all out bowling, and nearly got into a fight with a pack of drunks in the next lane who yelled at us for having kids within their 15-foot staggering zone. Sue and I kind of hoped he would beat them about the head with his police badge, but he didn't. I almost swatted Rob's bum about 6 times because he was wearing the same colors as Mike and they look the same from behind, if slightly photoshopped to different scales.
Went home and ate ribs. Someone put the bones out on the porch, and someone else screamed when they looked out and saw a raccoon eating them. I tackle-shoved Barb out of the way and pressed my face to the glass because OMG THERE WAS A RACCOON EATING RIBS! Probably the greatest thing I have ever seen.
Day 3
Mike twisted his guts like a sick dog and spent the day vomiting. Leif objected to this and spent the day screaming around my knees. Gavin disappeared into the basement with his cousins, emerging 8 hours later covered in paint and glitter. Went to Walmart with mil and Sue, became addled by practically-free prices of everything, slipped $20 into mil's purse after she insisted on paying for the stack of $2 baby pants and discount Valentine's Day candy I pitched in the cart. Went home and dragged the kids around on the frozen lake, rattling them over lumps of ice until they were scared and cold and wanted to go in for soup. It started to snow. The kids fell asleep. mil and I watched Mike to see if he would die.
Day 4 - today
Mike did not die. He ate toast and sat vigilant during nap-time while mil and I drove into the snow to a local yarn shop. Became ridiculously excited about yarn. Saw deer in the woods near the lake. Forced all the children into snow pants and dragged them outside. Leif stumped around with determination, tried to shovel the walkway, and contemplated the skies; Gavin ran inside 4 times for new mittens, tried to faceplant into 3 inches of snow, and ate off the ground with his face with his cousins.
It is snowing. The baby naps on my lap. I woke up to discover that the little yin-yang earring I've been wearing in my upper ear for 3 years has disappeared. Perhaps it's time to let the hole scar over.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
vooom!
Bags packed.
Coats ready.
Infink be-booted.
Child no longer vomiting.
House-sitter secured.
And then there's me - limp on couch burning with fever and trying not to hurl myself inside-out. Bright side: only 200 calories consumed today!
Am planning on piggy-backing through terminal until the man slings me onto a luggage cart and then tips me out and rolls me down the gateway. Tempted to scoff in burly Scottish manner and brag about being able to hoist three bags and two children and just tip my head to vomit into potted plants without complaining, but then I might end up having to do it.
12 hours to go. Healing powers, go!
Coats ready.
Infink be-booted.
Child no longer vomiting.
House-sitter secured.
And then there's me - limp on couch burning with fever and trying not to hurl myself inside-out. Bright side: only 200 calories consumed today!
Am planning on piggy-backing through terminal until the man slings me onto a luggage cart and then tips me out and rolls me down the gateway. Tempted to scoff in burly Scottish manner and brag about being able to hoist three bags and two children and just tip my head to vomit into potted plants without complaining, but then I might end up having to do it.
12 hours to go. Healing powers, go!
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Sick day
There is no better time to get violently ill than 2 days before a big vacation. Overcome by preparations (and blue jello), the boy spent the night vomiting. We all hunkered down with our ears back for the day, sucking on vitamins and hoping the Sick would pass over us.
First attempt at reading a cable chart: Durrow for Gavin. After the initial ripping and rage and filthy expletives, a brain connection snapped into place right from my puzzle-solving facilities to my pleasure receptors. Goodgiddygods. Love.
Sick days require cookies. I didn't have enough of any one thing for any particular recipe, so I made one up.
Leif has a big love for cookery. He spends most of the day making brews on the patio with his litter box, sneaking in to squirrel away pots and pans and ingredients from the cupboards. By dinner we have to clean soups of toilet paper and goldfish crackers out of all the farberware. With care and attentiveness, he helps me whisk and sauté, making little taps to clean the utensils on the edge of the pot before putting them down.
Mike is beginning to mutter about me cheating on him with Chef Ramsay. That is why we can't understand anything Leif says yet; it is all a series of angry bleeps.
Very fine sort of slow cozy family day.
First attempt at reading a cable chart: Durrow for Gavin. After the initial ripping and rage and filthy expletives, a brain connection snapped into place right from my puzzle-solving facilities to my pleasure receptors. Goodgiddygods. Love.
Sick days require cookies. I didn't have enough of any one thing for any particular recipe, so I made one up.
Holly's Chocolate Chocolate Cranberry Oatmeal Lumpies
1 1/4 c. flour
1/3 c. cocoa
1/2 c. quick-cooking oatmeal (use steel mill Irish oats if you hate your guests)
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
5 tbs softened butter
2 tbs shortening
2/3 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. granulated sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
big handful cranberries
half bag chocolate chips
Normal one-bowl cookie construction: blend together butter and shortening, beat in sugars, add egg and vanilla. Add flour, cocoa, oatmeal, baking powder, and salt all at once, mix quickly until just blended. (It was nice and sticky for me, but if it seems too crumbly, throw in a spoonful of sour cream or yogurt or more shortening.) Add cranberries and chocolate, stir. Drop in lumps on nonstick cookie sheet, bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes. Ta daa! Crispy chewy brownie cookie awesome.
Leif has a big love for cookery. He spends most of the day making brews on the patio with his litter box, sneaking in to squirrel away pots and pans and ingredients from the cupboards. By dinner we have to clean soups of toilet paper and goldfish crackers out of all the farberware. With care and attentiveness, he helps me whisk and sauté, making little taps to clean the utensils on the edge of the pot before putting them down.
Mike is beginning to mutter about me cheating on him with Chef Ramsay. That is why we can't understand anything Leif says yet; it is all a series of angry bleeps.
Very fine sort of slow cozy family day.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
mitten truce
Found a vintage pattern for flat-knit mittens, and all is forgiven.
There are four fattening pregnant women in close orbit, so why am I fiddling with mittens instead of using my mandated Wednesdays off to sew homely dainties? Because during daylight hours I am used for this:
I suppose I could foist them off on beds and clean laundry, but then I would not be covered in cats and babies. Quandary.
There are four fattening pregnant women in close orbit, so why am I fiddling with mittens instead of using my mandated Wednesdays off to sew homely dainties? Because during daylight hours I am used for this:
I suppose I could foist them off on beds and clean laundry, but then I would not be covered in cats and babies. Quandary.
Monday, February 01, 2010
small stirrings
It has happened, I have felt the first stirrings of excitement about our adventure to New York next week (!). Yes, the baby may go boneless and scream for 7 days straight; yes, we may all get chapped and dribble snot and contract airport viruses; and yes, I may be defending my bottom against commentary about my need to still eat - but there may be a moment where I can close the door on it all and stand outside at night and let the snowfall stir that small still bit of me that I left on Black Mesa. Maybe revert for just a minute to the girl in pink rubber boots and a too-small blue parka who searched the close emptiness and imagined towering beasts just out of sight, enjoying being right there inside herself for a little bit.
Maybe?
Maybe?
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