More About Food

This year has been a love hate year for food.  I just some something funny on the news about Cincy Chili and got to thinking about it.

I spent the first 8 months hating everything edible.  Thanks to a very long pregnancy.  I couldn't even eat seafood, my favorite, or think of it without puking.  Since my little overdue princess was forced into the world, I have managed to get in my fill, both from my favorite sushi place, and my own stovetop, grill, and deep fryer.

I finally finished compiling my favorite recipes into one book, so I can print it out to keep in the kitchen.  My laptop is just not safe being a cookbook.  I'm a very messy cook.  Not that I mind, I mean who wouldn't want to be covered in their favorite foods every evening at dinner time? 

Even with two small children, I promise this year I'd dust off my brain and cook real food to bring to thanksgiving dinner.  It's been years since I made a pie with a crust I didn't buy from Walmart, I'm sorry to admit.  Hopefully this will turn out well, sweet potatoes are fresh from my garden, so it can't be that bad.  I've never used the other recipe, an old one handed down from my husband's 93 year old Kentucky grandmother, who's recently passed. But something that's endured time that long must be delicious.

Happy Thanksgiving, and Happy Eating.

30's > 20's

It's not just simple mathematics.  The 30ths are definitely greater than the 20's.  To be honest, my 20's just kinda sucked.  And I spent almost all of them in a relationship and marriage that ended unpleasantly.  I never guessed though, that my 30's would be so great.

Today I turned 33 years old.  When I was 29, I was divorced, living with my parents, looking for an apartment, and looking for a job someplace far far away from my ex.  Maybe a few thousand miles, or another continent away. 

Today I'm happily married to a sane man.  We have a 2.5 month old and an almost 2 year old, both beautiful intelligent girls.  I quit my job to stay with them, and occasionally work freelance writing jobs when I want something to do and some extra cash.

So, Happy Birthday to me!  And Hoorah! that Apple Barn Winery ships to my state, since my husband apparently ordered me a case for my birthday.

Eclipses and Insomnia

In another universe, where I've won the lottery, and my kids are older, I would have been at the total solar eclipse in Australia this week.  They did stream it live from several news websites for those of use that aren't globe trotting astronomical fanatics.  It reminds me, every time I turn on my telescope, the handset screams at me "DON'T LOOK AT THE SUN!" over and over and over, while I try to remember which button makes it go away.  If I had more time to get the telescope out, perhaps I would remember, and not have to dig up my manual.  I'm a bad astronomer.  Right now I probably couldn't even find where the planets are for you.  I have half a year's worth of Astronomy Magazine sitting in a pile where I plan on reading.  After I get the kids changed, fed, bathed, cleaned up after, wash the dishes, scrub the floors, and the bathrooms, shower, and sleep. 

Sleep.  I could complain that I never get sleep.  I could blame it on my 2 daughters.  But that would be silly.  I've been a bad sleeper since I was a kid.  If I weren't up feeding or changing diapers, I'd just be up staring at the walls, pacing the hallways.  I come from a long line of bad sleepers.  My children are doomed.  Sorry girls.

Speaking of girls.  Aren't mine cute? Also, please note that the pacifier is gone.  My eldest has lost the last one, and my youngest refuses them.

Driving

I am certain there should be a law against astronomers driving after sunset. 

Recently we were returning from a trip out of state to visit family.  Since the time change, it's been getting dark early and quickly, so it was well into night as we neared home.  I remember leaving the highway and drifting closer toward the country roads where we lived.  I couldn't help but stare out the windows at the stars, peeking in and out of the clouds.  And since I wasn't driving myself this time, I even opened the sunroof to stare up. 

As a passenger, this only gave me a crink in the neck, but had I been driving, I'm sure I would have veered off the road into a ditch, or a deer.  Either way, it would be hazardous to my health.

I can drive myself at night, I'm a grown up, and I can resist the temptation to stare up and drift off into the universe.  But I'd rather be the passenger at night, so I don't have to stick in reality.

Peanut butter and Strawberries

I love peanut butter, maybe more than any other food.  When my first daughter was born nearly two years ago, I watched carefully and fearfully for the deadly peanut allergy. Many sticky sandwiches and handprints on my furniture later, that fear has been alleviated.  Even now, she sits in my lap eating peanuts. However I made a startling realization this week. 

I grow strawberries in a raised bed, next to the main garden.  Near the end of the growing season, my oldest discovered she could rummage in the bed and find leftover strawberries to pick.  This happened when there were only a few stragglers left, so she didn't have many.  Sometime around then, she developed a yeast infection.  I'm not joking.  The doctor was baffled by it, but gave us a prescription safe for her to use, and we used it for months.  The infection seemed stubborn, but in the last month has cleared up well, and looked great.

I finally got brave enough to go to the store alone, with my newborn and her.  As we finished up in produce with her allotment of apples, we passed the rack of strawberries.  She shreiked in delight, so I went back for them.  I think she ate half the container that day while I cleaned and she played.  That night at bath time, I discovered the rash on her again, more angry, bumpy and terrifiying than I hate ever seen it.  And back so suddenly.  Then my tired brain made the connection.  Shoot.  Strawberries.

She goes back to the doctor next month, so we need to test to be sure, but I don't doubt that's the problem.  I hid the rest from her, and she's begun to clear up again.  Although her health is important, I may still cry when my husband tills up the strawberry bed to rid her of the temptation and frustration.

Political Madness

In a fit of political responsibility and parental madness, I took my two daughters to vote with me yesterday.  Two months old, and 23 months old.  It took my so much longer to get them ready, load them up, drive there, and unload them, then it did for me to vote.  I hiked into the polls, obeying the no cell phone sign, as much as I wanted someone to photograph how ridiculous I probably looked.  A two month old strapped to my chest, fussing, and a nearly two year old warily eying everyone around her, while I held onto her coat hood to keep her from sprinting off toward the sticker guy.

My two year old LOVES stickers.  And all three of us were rewarded with stickers upon finishing.  Somehow I think I earned more than a sticker for pulling this off without a world-ending meltdown by any party involved.

I'll refrain from mentioning who I voted for.  I think everyone has had enough of political fights lately.  I was just relieved this morning, to be able to turn on the tv and not see political ads.  I had chocolate cake, and celebrated this little victory. 

In a related note, both little girls are sleeping AT THE SAME TIME, so I managed to finish my cookbook, only one year late.  Now to print it out and give it to everyone for Christmas.  Oh don't worry, they're getting real presents too.