Monday, September 26, 2011

How Many Heart and Spooners Does it Take to Process a Zucchini?

Today was a good day at the Heart and Spoon.
I tend to gauge the quality of our days by whether or not we have dinner. Food is our primary communal achievement, aside from sporadic home repair.
I’m not a particularly food oriented person, but I’m a family-oriented person. Food brings people together so… in that sense, I’ve become quite dinner focused.
Today Kiki and I made baked chicken, corn on the cob, and we stuffed this gigantic thing that we originally thought was a zucchini but we later realized must be a hybrid of zucchini and winter squash. Whatever it was, it was the size and density of a troll club.
People used to bring home squash of this sort on a regular basis. They would find them in free piles on the side of the road and then dump them on the kitchen counter with a real sense of pride… like they were bringin’ home some serious bacon.
Ironically, the contributors of these squash monstrosities never harbored any sense of responsibility beyond the unloading of the gigantic lub. Someone else would have to spend hours grating the thing and baking it into bread… or cubing it, blanching it and freezing it.
Eventually we made a rule: No one is allowed to bring home strange or excessive food unless they are prepared to process it themselves.
This put an end to the troll-club zucchini for a while. I don’t know who strolled along with the one we ate this evening. It sat on the living room couch, abandoned, for three days before anyone even took the initiative to transport it to the kitchen.
We cut it in half, long ways, and stuffed one side of it with rice, beans, tomatoes from our garden, spices and cheese. We grated the other half and Lali made chocolate, cayenne, zucchini bread.
We ate our bean-stuffed hybred by candlelight and it was delicious.
We don’t generally eat by candlelight. Ash may have thought it was a birthday cake. He had two helpings.
I guess one troll-club zucchini a year is allowed. It took three of us to turn it into food and seven of us to eat it. It definitely brought us all together.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Bedtime Choreography


It is 10:35 at night and, yes, I’m tired. But I’m not tired enough to brave bedtime. My kids are already asleep. One would think that putting myself  to bed would be the easy part. Not these days. Right now, introducing myself into the co-sleeping arrangement is somewhat of a sporting event.
Magnolia has hit the spin-like-a-fan-in-her-sleep phase and it is taking its toll. Ash has his own bed (it’s a foot and a half away from ours). He starts the night in his bed, but sneaks into ours mid-way through the night.
By necessity, Benjah and I have worked out some experimental sleeping choreography. Here are some examples:   
(Yes, I know that choreography implies movement. I chose that word purposefully because several – if not all – of these positions are employed in a single night)


The Divided Highway
 
The Diagonal

The Pile-Up  

The 90 Degree Shift

The Martyr
Here are some other tricks I employ for night time survival.
1)      If I wake up in the middle of the night and I am not smashed against one or more children, I should utilize this freedom by getting up to pee, even if I don’t actually have to. Later I will definitely have to pee, and I will probably be wedged under children who will cry ferociously when I try to extract myself.
2)      Same as above for drinking water. I hate being thirsty. Possibly more than I hate having to pee.
3)      Make sure there are extra blankets stored nearby. Benjah (husband) does this thing we like to call the “Ben Burrito.” A quick, efficient roll and tuck motion that locks the blanket under and around his body. I’ve pulled, pried, and yanked for 15 years. Believe me, there’s no getting it back.
Might it be time to introduce the bunk bed? Or would that just be dangerous?


Monday, September 19, 2011

Back in the Game



So, I fell off the blogging train. Coincidentally I fell off at almost exactly the same time that I got on. I'm not going to be too hard on myself about it though, because I have a three-year-old and a one-year-old. I actually don't use that excuse very often, so I won't feel bad about doing it now.

Right now, Magnolia has fallen asleep. For the second time. The first time I waited 15 minutes, just to be sure it was a "real sleep" and it appeared to be a "real sleep" so I called Hewlett Packard to engage them in a conversation about the dysfunction of my computer. Of course, just as the guy was starting to explain something about three notches above my technical understanding, Magnolia woke up and began yelling "MAMMY! MAMMY!" because that's what she calls me these days.

I tried to keep talking to the computer guy like nothing was going on, but even he was getting distracted by the high volume "MAMMY" going on in the background. In the end, we both decided that it would be much easier all around if I just boxed up my computer and sent it to them where they could explore its inner workings in peace.

Now, Magnolia is trying her nap for the second time. During this completely indeterminate amount of time, I need to clean up the pile of junk outside my door that has grown to encompass an area of about 4 feet high and 5 feet long. My community is very politely not mentioning this expansive junk pile (probably because of the fact that I have a 3 year-old and a 1 year-old). I also need to research Trusts (in case my community wants to become a Trust) and eat some food and go to the bathroom.

That's one thing I never anticipated about having children. I realized that I would no longer have alone time. But tiny conveniences like taking showers, pooping, and eating entire meals without interruption, I had taken completely for granted.

I just took a moment to go watch Magnolia sleep. It's important for all parents to do this, so we can remember how cute our kids are (and so we know that they are still alive) (and because even though we spend every waking moment wishing they would fall asleep... once they actually are asleep... it's hard to imagine what to do besides neurotically check on them).

Ok. She is wearing one sock printed like a black cat and another like a pumpkin. This has nothing to do with Halloween's upcomming-ness. It is a genuine coincidence, because my kids wear holiday clothing all-year-round, and I quit matching socks about a year and a half ago. She picked out her own socks this morning because she recently decided that footwear is very important.

Her face is covered in blackberry juice. This is because she doesn't like to be away from me, so if I pass her off to someone else, we bribe her with berries. This helps to ebb the squealing of  "MAMMY." It's a very convenient method right now, as it's still blackberry season. I wonder if apples will work just as well?

Until later... but hopefully not too much later...

Jes