Not as many books read in September, mostly because one of my reads was quite intense and lengthy. I also probably did more random internet surfing this month than usual – probably a result of COVID fatigue starting to wear on me.
Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson – 4h 35m. Funny, touching read. Lillian, the main character, is asked by her wealthy childhood friend to come care for her stepchildren who have a strange behavioral quirk. TBeneath this seemingly satirical story, is a contemplation of class, wealth, and how we create and maintain connections while figuring out what you really want in your life. One of my favorite quotes: “Maybe raising children was just giving them the things you loved most in the world and hoping that they loved them too.”
Echo by Pam Munoz Ryan – Audiobook narrated by Mark Bramhall, David de Vries, MacLeod Andrews, and Rebecca Soler. This was actually a middle grade book, something I didn’t realize until I was a couple chapters in. It’s a magical, musical, and engrossing story that tells three different stories which somehow intertwine. It is a story about music, specifically a harmonica, and the people who find joy and solace in owning it. Part of the charm of the audiobook is that musical excerpts that are prominent in the story are incorporated into the audio experience.
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Brown – 15h 45m. This classic recounts the bloody, brutal, and heart-breaking story of the conflict between Native Americans and the White people who settled the American West, taking ownership of land that, to the Native Americans, didn’t really belong to anyone. In the opposition between the drive for growth and “progress” on the one hand, and peaceful earth-conscious living on the other, bloody, cruel, and desperate conflicts seemed inevitable. This was a hard book to read for me because it is hard to imagine how reparations can be made when the country that we are now is so different from the country that was taken from the Native Americans.
Limelight by Amy Poeppel – 6h 49m. Light, fun, fluffy novel about a woman who befriends a trainwreck of a pop star about to make his Broadway debut. She attempts to help him get his life on track, while trying to keep her own life together. The scenes that took the reader into the rehearsal process made me miss work and the excitement and energy of creating theatre.
This week definitely felt like the rut. I had a video chat with a friend and she said that life these days was kind of like, “Lather, rinse, and repeat.”
Halloween is coming up. I’m a little torn about how to mark the occasion. The eight year old loves Halloween, and she has come up with a family costume concept. Last year they all went as characters from The Little Prince – the eight year old was a Rose with a costume courtesy of a costume sale at work; the three year old was the Fox; and the baby was the Little Prince himself – basically a green sleeper and a yellow scarf. This year they will all be weather themed. I’ve finished the baby’s costume, but she will only wear it if bribed with food…
The baby is really into climbing on chairs these days. If the chairs are tucked in or inaccessible, she will pull them out so she can climb on them. I made a comment to the Husband how 75% of my day is pulling the baby off chairs. If I don’t get her off the chairs, she will do one of several things: 1) rock back and forth while holding on to the back of the chair, 2) climb onto the dining table/ her sister’s distance learning table/ any variety of table that is around, 3) get into stuff -the other day she got into my sewing things and started pulling the pins out of the pin cushion, 3) get herself stuck under the table if she hasn’t pulled the chair out far enough, 4) Lord knows what else. I love her persistent sense of exploration, but man is it exhausting to keep up with her. Given that the other two kids were still months from crawling when they were this age, it’s definitely been something I wasn’t quite prepared for.
One thing we started doing is putting the chairs on their sides after meals. It kind of makes our dining room look like the aftermath of battle, with all the fallen chairs.
Being with the kids every single moment, I’m finding myself noticing milestones in more minute ways than before. Like this past week the baby also has started putting things away – if you give her a cup and open the cup drawer, she will put it in. If you hand her her dirty clothes, she will put them in the hamper. I feel like with my other kids, these things seemed to happen more gradually. Perhaps they did, perhaps they didn’t. Either way, I feel like I’m noticing the baby’s lightbulb moments more – the moment when she does something and realizes she did it. And then does it again.
This week’s drawing class assignment was about mapping and siting – that is to say, being able to take proportions and recreate them on the page. We had to set up a still life and draw it. This was mine:
Still life of nursing/pumping nook
The sippy cup was my initial inspiration – I thought the shape of it would be visually interesting. And from there, I added other feeding adjacent items. But, it turns out that most baby and feeding things are all curves and soft edges. I’m sure there is something purposefully “feminine” in that design, but the homogeneity of line doesn’t make for a very complex still life. So I added the pile of books – which I guess are kind of a feeding item since I do a lot of reading while pumping and nursing. On the whole I’m quite delighted with this little slice of right now life.
I’m really enjoying the two older kids playing together these days. Usually it is some imaginative play session led by the eight year old. Last week, they got good use of the backyard playing things like “Coronation Day” and “Camping”. The latter involved making a “fire” out of overgrown okra pods.
What We Ate:
Saturday: Smoked Salmon and Bagels. It was simple Saturday and this is about as simple as it gets. Bagels, cream cheese, smoked salmon, onions, tomatoes, capers.
Sunday: Squash and Apple Schwarma. Ages ago we had a subscription to a vegan meal kit. At the time, the meal kit’s recipes were being developed by Mark Bittman, which was one of the main draws for my wanting to subscribe. Anyhow we no longer subscribe, but several of the recipes that we got from the kit was still use, this one most of all. It is the perfect balance of savory and sweet and a good way to use up squash.
Tuesday: Pasta with Mustard Greens and capers. This is adapted from Dinner Illustrated. The original recipe calls for broccoli rabe.
Wednesday: The Husband cooked. He made some kind of corn, cheese, one pot thingy that we ate in wraps. It was actually quite tasty.
Thursday: Mac ‘n’ cheese and hot dogs. The Husband made post dance class dinner. Although, I think in truth the eight year old made the mac ‘n’ cheese – it was the stuff in the blue box.
Friday: pizza and Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. It was the eight year old’s turn to choose. She’s been really into seeing all the Star Wars movies. I’m not as into the whole franchise as other people in this house, but I thought this one was pretty good – it was surprisingly funny, which I think is the mark of J.J. Abrams.
The baby has been super cranky for over a week. The previously wonderful sleeper sometimes is tough to get down and wakes frequently in the night. So we are back to nursing to sleep. Just today it occurred to me to check for molars. And sure enough, she has them coming in. On both sides. Teething is a bitch. I mean if you think about the sheer mechanics of it- teeth must push their way through the gums to emerge. It’s not like the gums part like the Red Sea or any other similar gentle making of the way. No, the teeth forge a path, basically slicing through your gums. The term “erupting” is very apt, I find. And it’s not like your teeth are super sharp and they slice through like butter. It certainly must take a lot of force for these blunt objects to come through. All of which to say, no wonder the baby has been a fragile, quivering, clingy ball of need these past few weeks. The constant crying has been hard. Something about incessant wailing makes me impatient and irrational. They like to talk about sleep deprivation as a torture technique, but perhaps the constant air raid siren of a cranky baby is one as well. We do a lot of comfort nursing. Right now she has managed to fall asleep on me. Her little pink mouth has disengaged from my nipple, and her dimpled hand clutches at my shirt. My left arm is starting to dampen from her sleepy sweat, even as the weight of her head makes that arm start to tingle and go numb. I peer at that sweet head and see the sweat glistening, as if someone had sprinkled craft glitter in her hair. Part of me is annoyed. It was supposed to be my “night off”, my child free evening while the Husband and kids cleaned up from dinner. I had a to do list that I was going to bang out tonight. But instead I am here- Mama Mattress, human body pillow. Molds to your body shape! The ads all enthuse. I could use some water. There is a cricket in the room somewhere. The eight year old did set me up with a footstool and a pillow before she moved in with her evening. That was nice. I listen to the sound of the Husband put the other kids to bed. Laughter and stories. I read a chapter of my book. Answer some emails. Fill out a questionnaire for a baby study at the university. Much as I feel the burden of being a her bed, every time she stirs, I think, “Please don’t wake up!”
If being nestled here in my lap as we sit in Daddy’s comfy chair… if this means that she is resting and not in pain… then I guess I don’t mind.
I spent the weekend swapping the baby’s 6 month clothes out for 12 month clothes. The nine month clothes still fit. She grows so fast! Most of the 12 month clothes we had were “boy” clothes, left over from the 3 year old. Much as I say it’s ok for her to wear boy clothes, I do love seeing her wear something pretty once in a while. Luckily another mom from my mom’s group was passing along two big bags of 12 month clothes. So I passed along a good chunk of our 12 month boy clothes to yet another mom in my mom’s group. (All this handing down of baby clothes reminds me of the section in Adam Minter’s book where he talks about how very little baby clothes actually make it to third world countries, where a lot of our donated clothing ends up. Baby clothes tend to get very little wear, so they are passed along among friends or resold here in America.)
Fall has settled in. I booked some family photos, and used this handy peak foliage map to decide on a date that would have good fall colour. Now I’m obsessed with trying to decide what we will all wear.
Baby plays a hand.
We’ve been playing Uno on Sunday nights. The three year old manages to play a proper card once in a while. It’s adorable because he likes to yell “Uno!” every time he drops a card in the pile, even though he has a hoard of cards still sitting in front of him. Last week, the husband also made hot chocolate to go with our Uno game. It was what you see in the dictionary under “cozy.”
My parents sent us a care package this week. Yay for getting mail! In the box was a 100 pack of face masks – the high quality kind from Taiwan. Apparently the masks from Taiwan are really difficult to procure. There might have been an email chain last week from my cousin, on behalf of my aunt who had access to a shipment from Taiwan. It would involve a pick up location in a parking lot.
Baby hands reaching again….
Also in the package were three dragon fruits from my parent’s tree. The baby and the three year old love dragon fruit. The eight year old will eat it if I freeze it. I love the vivid pink colour of the skin. It sort of belies the mellow, almost bland flavour of the flesh inside.
Reach at Sunset.
On Thursday, I took the baby down to the Reach for my weekly happy hour with my friend Kristen. Despite working literally across the plaza, I had not been to the Reach. It was a little surreal to be at the Kennedy Center and see it all closed up and quiet.
Negative Space Homework.
The Husband moved the drafting table into the sunroom, and I’ve been very much enjoying the soft light and sense of place of having a drawing nook. This week’s homework was about drawing negative space – the areas that make up the emptiness around an object. The idea that an object is not defined just by its own shape, but also about the shapes it creates in space. For me, it was the kind of assignment where once I recognized the concept and started thinking about it, I started looking for negative space in the world around me.
Cute things the three year old says: “You never know where your dragon is.” “But it’s so bouncy!” Said in response to our admoniation that he shouldn’t be rough with the baby’s head. “Is that squishy food?” Asking about everything and if the answer is “Yes”, he will try to feed it to the baby.
It’s crazy to think, but eighteen months ago, the three year old was still nursing to sleep and didn’t really speak. He was actually about to start working with a speech therapist to address the speech delay. And now, I read him chapters from my books to put him to bed (last month it was Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee), and he is using words like “organize”. I’m on my college’s alumni listserv for parents, and one thing the wise parent there always say is “This too shall pass.” It is often used as a mantra for challenging times, but I think it is also a beautiful reminder to capture and savour all the fleeting moments of growing children.
What We Ate:
Saturday: Butter chicken – leftover sauce from our last time making butter chicken. Also, thanks to the Instant Pot I was able to cook the chicken from frozen. I don’t know that the InstantPot makes food taste better than otherwise, but it sure is convenient.
Sunday: Pita, Tzatziki, and Cucumbers. Our neighbor gave use a containter of Tzatizki from the famer’s market. She had lived in Turkey once and said this was pretty authentic stuff. Either way, it was pretty tasty. I made flatbread to go with it – this recipe, with half whole wheat flour. And I used the tortilla press!
Monday: Macaroni and Cheese from Dinner Illustrated. Easy one pot recipe that has chard (we used kale) mixed in. Really creamy and tasty.
Tuesday: Husband called an audible and we got Greek take out.
Wednesday: Braised Cod with Peppers. Sounds fancy, but actually really easy and tasty.
Thursday: Another audible because it was dance night and the meal I had planned was not condusive to making ahead. oops. We got wings from a new place.
Friday: Pizza while watching Fireman Sam and Stinky and Dirty. It was the three year old’s turn to pick the movie (clearly). We watched the original Fireman Sam, a British stop motion animation version that premiered in 1987. There was something very soothing about the muted tone of it – both in the visuals and the energy.
Last weekend the eight year old had first Communion, and so we all dressed up and went to church for the first time in half a year. There was a limit on how many guests each family could bring – which we maxed out just by bringing the other kids. Each family had their own pew and every other row was empty. Everyone was masked. The eight year old was asked to do the first reading, and she did great!
I’m not the Catholic one in the family, but I’ve always found going to church soothing. The getting dressed up, the communal singing (which is now not allowed), and the contemplation. Our church is on the liberal side of things, and I find the homilies are often meditations on how to be more mindful about your actions and reactions. Though these days the two little kids don’t really sit still, so maybe not so soothing and experience in real life.
Afterwards the eight year old got to chose lunch, and she chose Indian take out. We ordered chaat papari, though I was a little nervous that it was going to be soggy, but surprisingly they bundled the yogurt and tamarind sauce separately. Even more bonus, there was more than enough, so now we have extra tamarind sauce in the fridge. Yum!
Longwood Fountain Show
Monday was a day off from school, so the Husband took the day as well and we went to Longwood Gardens. In pre COVID times we would often go as a weekend trip; we’d book a hotel with a pool, and maybe also go to the Please Touch Museum. This time we took it as a day trip – leaving around 8:30a and getting home just after 6pm.
Little frog!
It was definitely a good trip. We enjoyed fall colour. I like seeing what vegetables they are growing in their gardens. And consequently annoying the Husband when I ask, “Why can’t we grow those?” We saw a frog in the lily pad garden. The chrysanthemums were prepped for planting. The chrysanthemum show is always breathtaking there. I’m not sure if we will get back this year for it, though. And trees. We spent lots of time among the trees.
One thing I’ve resolved to do this year was to take more pictures with the Husband. One of my mentors from my early stage management days sends these wonderful holiday cards and there are always great pictures of her and husband together, huge smiles on their faces. It makes me so happy and inspired to see them. Last year, I realized that I don’t have many pictures with the Husband, the way Mary does. I’m always so busy taking pictures of the kids, with the kids, or of random lovely things in my life. Or of the area I parked in. But no pictures of me and the Husband who is in a lot of ways the most important relationship. So this year, I’ve been handing the phone to the eight year old more often and asking her to take pictures of her parents. She’s taken some good ones and I love that I have them now. The three year old, on the other hand, is decidedly not quite up for the task:
Give him a break, he’s three!
Anyhow, it was good to get out of the house and be outdoors. Longwood is always beautiful, regardless of the season.
Some random thoughts from this week:
I am a terrible decision maker. I contemplate and ruminate and pro and con and go back and forth. This week, I came across something in Carolyn Hax’s column (second letter here) that really was eye-opening for me. The advice Hax writes is so clear eyed and wise and I really love reading her column and her live chats. She wrote, to a letter writing contemplating two career options: “When careful research shows neither option is clearly superior, that could be the definition of a tough decision — or the opposite. If neither is clearly right, then neither’s clearly wrong.” I have terrible FOBO when it comes to decision making; there is something freeing in this realization that if there is no perfect decision, then there is really no wrong decision either. I’ve been reframing some things lately – rather than saying, “There is no perfect solution here.” I’ve been saying, “There is no wrong solution here.” And it helps me move on a little sooner. I still obsess. But maybe with a little less anxiety and a little more grace.
Election season is ramping up. Last week was certainly one for the history books. We watched the presidential debates, which one commentator called “The worst debates ever”. It was really disheartening. And then the President tested positive for COVID. What a crazy week for the news cycle.
Every Wednesday, after piano lessons, we get breakfast sandwiches from Mr. Jay. The eight year old is in charge of calling in the order. Well two weeks ago when I went to pick up sandwiches, I had mentioned that it was the baby’s first birthday. This week, when I went to pick up the sandwiches, he gave us a present for her. It was so touching.
Loving this single little curl at the nape of the baby’s neck. I want to bottle it and keep it forever!
Homework!
This week’s drawing class homework was to draw and area of the house over several days, layering one day upon the other. I chose our living room sofa. Each class begins with us all sharing our work, and I loved how this assignment seemed to really encapsulate pandemic living. One of my fellow students did a lovely piece of the front door with the coming and going of Amazon packages.
The assignment was inspired by a project that Joan Linder did where she drew her kitchen sink over a number of weeks. Exploring Linder’s work, I came across this series she did of baby gear, and I found it quite inspiring, the art and lines that she found in these things that are so utilitarian.
What We Ate:
Saturday: I’m not sure we had dinner. I think we were full from the Indian food at lunch. Maybe we had sandwiches?
Sunday: Cilantro Chicken with Tortillas and cabbage slaw. The recipe for the chicken came from our church cookbook, and it was basically cilantro, onions, spices, garlic whizzed together in a blender and poured over chicken. The original called for the chicken to be baked with the sauce, but given that our oven was broken, I stuck it all in the Instant Pot and it was tasty. This was also our first attempt to make corn tortillas with the tortilla press that I had ordered and it was easy and fun and really delicious.
Fresh Tortillas. Shiny new press.
Monday: Wendy’s on the way home from Longwood Gardens. Haven’t had this in a long time, and I have to say, one of the foods I miss most during quarantine is french fries.
Tuesday: Spinach Orzo with Pork Chops. The Husband cooked.
Wednesday: Sweet Potatoe Chicken Curry from Dinner Illustrated. We have an overabundance of sweet potatoes.
Thursday: Ratatouille. To use up some peppers and zucchini.
Friday: Pizza and Bride and Prejudice. Fun take on Jane Austen’s classic.
We celebrated the baby’s birthday last week. with a chocolate cake. All three children have had chocolate cake on their first birthday – does that make it a family tradition? The cake did not go over terribly well with her. She had gotten her shots earlier in the day, and perhaps that contributed to her great fussiness. She was not having it with the cake and eventually rage smashed it, while refusing to eat any of it. Oh well. More for me.
We also went to the Supreme Court to pay our respects to Justice Ginsburg. I almost didn’t go because the whole prospect of taking the metro down and standing in a crowd seemed perhaps not prudent. But ultimately, I decided that these things could be done safely with masks and hand sanitizer, and that saying goodbye to a lady who spent her whole life championing gender equality was something that I wanted to be part of, and something that I wanted my daughters to be a part of.
Last week was also the second week of my drawing class. We talked about how in drawing you have to learn to draw what you see and not the actual object. So you draw lines and angles and not plants and flowers. Learning how to breakdown drawing into concrete steps has been really helpful; it’s shaping up to be a good brain excercise. The Husband had to go into work a couple days last week, one day being class day. I managed the lunch chaos while “attending” class, with my camera off. Being able to take a class while keeping track of my kids certainly opens up all sorts of possibilities.
The baby helping with homework.
The “This is Motherhood” moment of the week: wiping the three year old’s behind with one hand while using the other hand to keep the baby from sticking her hand in the (yet unflushed) toilet. It was kind of akin to cuing on the chorus while keeping track of the tenor.
Two things sighted on our morning walk – one made the three year old happy, one made me happy:
Diggers in action!The first peep of autumn leaves!
What We Ate:
Saturday: Chicken cooked on the griddle and salad.
Sunday: Thai Chicken Soup – From Dinner Illustrated. I added rice noodles.
Monday: Sausage, Peppers, and Onion sautee. Using up an excess of peppers.
Tuesday: Red Pepper Soup – From Dinner Illustrated. See above about excess of peppers.
Wednesday: Tortellini (w/ Red Sauce or Pesto, Diner’s choice), and Arni’s Jr. Salads. This was the baby’s birthday dinner. The Arni’s Jr. Salads are a staple of the Husband’s childhood and home state. We like to re-create them at home since we can’t get them here.
Thursday: Indian Eggplant Curry (Instant Pot), and Cumin Potatoes from Indian Instant Pot Cookbook.
Friday: Pizza and Lilo and Stitch. I had picked up Lilo and Stich four or five years ago, but we had never made it through because the eight year always got sad and scared and had us turn it off. I particularly remember her saying, “You don’t rip books!”
A year ago this week, at 6am on a Monday morning, the Husband and I walked the three blocks to the hospital and checked in to Labor and Delivery. It was my due date, and given that I had to be at work five days later, I thought it best to induce rather than wait it out. Six hours later, we had a new little one in our lives.
That little baby is now one. She has spent about half her life in quarantine, but she doesn’t know that. Her life, her world, is encompassed by all that is around her. And in that, she finds plenty to explore.
Her belly button alone is proving to be a great source of fascination to her. A few weeks ago, we were sitting on her bed, she was just in a diaper, and somehow she managed to poke herself in the belly button, her little finger tip going into the little divot. And then, kind of like sunshine, this look of awareness came over her face, and she giggled. And did it again. Since then, whenever she is hanging out without a shirt on, she will give her belly button a little poke, as if to say, “Yep, still there!”
She is a determined child, curious and up for any challenges. Her love for pulling the dirt out of the Husband’s potted plants, and for emptying all the kitchen drawers that she can reach certainly leaves a trail of debris in her wake.
She loves to be held, observing the world from up high, with this slightly judgy pucker to her lips and brow, or craning her neck to get a better view of whatever else is going on around her. Usually it is some antic that her siblings are pulling. They make her laugh, her sister and brother. Sometimes by accident, often intentionally. “Make the baby laugh” is a much enjoyed pastime around here.
People often ask me, “What is it like with three kids?” And, to be honest, one year in, I don’t think it is much different than having two. Not because my kids are magically easy, by any means. Rather it is because most days I feel like I only have the bandwidth to keep track of two children at any given moment. In the early days of three, it was usually the two year old and either the baby or the eight year old, depending on who was hungry and who was asleep.
That balance has somewhat shifted these days. Usually it is the mobile, dare-devil, no sense of fear baby that requires the most attention, and either the self sufficient now three year old or the independent eight year old that float in and out of my attention span. Either way, I only have a finite number of hours in my day and three children fill the day just as full as two children. There are moments (days, weeks, months, lifetimes, I’m sure) when I feel as if no one is getting what they need, least of all the Husband or myself. But then I realize that someone will always be needing something. Need is infinite. But you know what, so is love.
Fall seemed to arrive this week. We turned the air conditioner off and opened the windows, letting a breeze blow bracingly through the house. It actually got downright chilly. I’ve put apple picking on my list of things to do in the next few weeks – I think it might make a good Wednesday afternoon activity.
Sleep was rough this week. A combination of staying up too late so I can work on projects without children underfoot, and the baby waking in the middle of the night and having to be nursed back to sleep. I’m hoping it’s molars and that she will be better at sleeping soon. Teething is such a disruptive phase, but then when one thinks about the process of teething – basically these razor sharp objects piercing your gums from the inside to the out – one thinks, how can it be otherwise.
This week, I dropped off a couple of mini fridges at a local charity. The fridges had been in the basement – our “beer fridges” – but we had replaced them with a full sized fridge last month. In these crazy COVID times I had to book a drop off appointment a month ago! I took the three year old with me to drop the fridges and run a few other errands. As we drove through down town, he exclaimed in wonder, “Look at all the places!” It was adorable and heartbreaking.
I signed up to take a drawing class through the local community college, and this week was the first class. Several times a year, the community college continuing ed catalogue lands in our mail slot, and I flip through it, thinking it might be nice to learn something new. Taking classes, particularly evening classes is not really compatible with a show schedule, so it’s always been kind of a wistful thought. This year, with encouragement from the Husband, I decided to take advantage of the convenience of classes being taught through Zoom and my unemployed status, and signed up for a class.
There were a couple of different classes I contemplated signing up for – some more practical than drawing. Appliance repair, for example. Computer programming – probably beyond me, but could provide a good career pivot if needed. I chose drawing. I had thought about taking watercolor class, but then decided I wanted to start with something fundamental.
So I ordered art supplies and pads of paper larger than any art I can conceive of, and on Wednesday afternoon, I logged into class, along with twelve other students. The class is mostly made up of retirees (including two former middle school teachers), with a couple of thirty-something computer programmers as well. There is one elderly couple taking the class together. They have not figured out how to mute, and listening to their old married couple banter was one of the most delightful parts of the first class. Being back in a formal learning environment was definitely odd. There was a certain receptiveness that my brain took on that did feel like dusting the cobwebs off something that had been tucked away for too long. We even had assigned reading and homework.
Speaking of appliance repair, the dryer at my parent’s rental house stopped working so I spent a morning waiting for the service tech. Watching him take the dryer apart, diagnose, and remedy the issue was kind of fascinating. Maybe I will take that appliance repair class after all. It would certainly pay for itself over the years.
All it took was a screw gun! I can do that!
The Husband took Wednesday afternoon off, and after my drawing class we took a trip to the Agricultural Farm Park. I had brought the kids here earlier in the summer, and it was great to see it again in a different season. The dahlia garden was still going strong, but a lot of other things were starting to be put away for the season. We saw only a handful of people there while we were there; instead of people we saw large stretches of blue skies and corn.
What we ate:
Saturday: Black bean and red pepper quesadillas. I also had some shishito peppers from our produce box that I threw on the griddle and blackened to eat alongside.
Sunday: Thai Basil Chicken Lettuce Wraps. From America’s Test Kitchen. It was a little too spicy and the kids ended up having peanut butter toast for dinner.
Monday: Stir fry – tofu, bean, eggplant, red pepper. A clean out the produce drawer meal.
Tuesday: Black lentil dal and Paneer Biryani (from Indian InstantPot). I’ve made paneer a couple of times, but it always had turne out crumbly. I finally bought a paneer/tofu press. It is not great for tofu pressing, but my paneer turned out great this time.
Paneer success!!!
Wednesday: Called an audible when we drove by a favorite sandwich place on the way home from the Agricultural Farm Park. Sandwiches and onion rings.
Thursday: Mushroom Leek Crostata from Dinner Illustrated. Though the Husband and 8 year old grabbed Five Guys on the way home from dance class. I have a great weakness for french fries,, and they brought me some. It wasn’t as good as when you each them fresh and salty and hot, but it was still pretty tasty.
Friday: Pizza and wings while watching Star Wars: The Last Jedi (8 year old’s turn to pick). Carrie Fisher – such an elegant lady. I think she was my favorite part of the movie.
A cycle of “when was the last time you ate/peed/had a diaper change?” and “When was the last time I ate/peed/changed a diaper?”
Is a toddling baby who makes joyful squawks, each outburst asking a question that I don’t know how to answer.
A climbing baby, persistent in her efforts to scale kitchen chairs, requiring vigilance on my part.
Distance learning and all its difficulties and distractions.
Virtual playdates. A balm, but not a solution for loneliness.
An endless to do list, yet days that seem to have no direction.
A preschooler who makes me question the accuracy of that term for a little guy who won’t forseeably be in preschool.
Wondering what the fine line is between “free play” and “neglect”.
A broken oven, necessitating baking only treats that can fit in a 9×9 pan in the toaster oven. Brownies (from Ghiradelli mix, bought in bulk from Coscto), lemon bars, granola bars. Some loafs fit too.
The perfect combination of sunshine, cool weather, and bracing breeze.
Reveling in the cooler weather and my morning cup of tea.
Having to constantly run the tea kettle because morning mayhem means the cuppa has cooled every time I get around to taking a sip.
Reaching for a pen to endorse a check and only being able to find crayons. Broken crayons at that.
Soup season. Cozy, warm, and filling. Also a good excuse to eat crusty bread.
Sewing masks for a church project.
Pumping milk. Not for the baby, who has refused a bottle since she was four months old, but rather for the milk bank to give to babies in the NICU.
Reading books beautiful, sad, fluffy, comforting, uncomfortable, uplifting.
Binge watching tv- also beautiful, sad, fluffy, comforting, uncomfortable, uplifting. This show manages to be all of those.
Wandering around to the side yard and finding a perfect rose blooming, having forgotten that we even had roses planted there.
Soft, round, cool, kissable baby cheeks.
Soft, round, cool, kissable three year old cheeks.
Soft, round, cool, almost at my eye level eight year old cheeks.
Devastating news, and needing to have room in my heart to grieve, honor, rage, and resolve.
Trying to find patience and empathy. Often failing.
Trying to banish FOMO and jealousy. Often failing.
Loving the chaos, if not the mess, of quarantining life with three small children.
