And the Winner Is . . .

. . . Crown Jewel Jello!

Who could resist the name? Or the pretty picture on the Jello website.

There were many other contenders, including a family favorite, a relatively healthy one published in the paper recently with applesauce, and an adaptation of the one I usually serve that has cream cheese. In fact, most jello recipes submitted to me had cream cheese, sour cream, or heavy cream. My mom suggested substituting mayonnaise, but I just couldn't. And Cool Whip doesn't have the same consistency.

There was a big family drama, probably complicated by the fact that I didn't even choose the recipe that caused all the trouble. My mom took out pages from her BH&G cookbook, her edition of which is filled with gelatin salads (unlike mine), to photocopy and send to me for future occasions. And she lost them. Before copying them. She's searched everywhere to no avail. And so she began a search online, at her used bookstore, anywhere for a duplicate. But her edition is undated, probably from the early 1960s when she was married, and she doesn't know which is hers. Then she emailed all her friends and family members of approximately the same age. Luckily, my cousin S had the same book and soon scanned in the pages and sent them along. But my mom is still a little heartsick, I think, about the missing pages. I would be upset too.

So I include all the recipes I received and send along a hearty thanks to all those who helped out, especially Mom, Cousin S, Aunt T, V, and A who flagged me down at a red light to tell me about the recipe in the paper (and K who mentioned the same recipe about an hour later).

Bon Appetit!

-=-=-=

Crown Jewel DessertRecipe (The one in my fridge right now).

1pkg. (4-serving size) JELL-O Brand Lime Flavor Gelatin
1 pkg. (4-serving size) JELL-O Brand Orange Flavor Gelatin
2 pkg. (4-serving size each) JELL-O Brand Strawberry Flavor Gelatin, divided
1 qt. (4 cups) boiling water, divided 2 cups cold water, divided
1 tub (8 oz.) COOL WHIP Whipped Topping, thawed, divided

PREPARE lime, orange and 1 package of the strawberry gelatins in 3 separate bowls as directed on packages, using 1 cup of the boiling water and 1/2 cup of the cold water for each flavor. Pour each flavor of gelatin into a separate 8-inch square pan. Refrigerate 4 hours or until firm. Cut gelatin into 1/2-inch cubes. Reserve 1-1/2 cups of each flavor of the gelatin cubes. Cover and refrigerate remaining gelatin cubes for snacking or another use.

ADD the remaining 1 cup boiling water to the remaining package of strawberry gelatin; stir 2 minutes or until completely dissolved. Stir in remaining 1/2 cup cold water. Refrigerate 45 minutes or until slightly thickened (consistency of unbeaten egg whites).

ADD half of the whipped topping and reserved gelatin cubes; stir gently until well blended. Pour into 9x5-inch pan sprayed with cooking spray. Refrigerate 4 hours or until firm. Unmold. Garnish with remaining whipped topping. Cut into 18 slices. Store leftover dessert in refrigerator.


7-Up Salad (my usual jello salad)
I don’t know when I first had this but I fell in love with the funny color and the sweetness. I added it to the holiday menu and it is now one of DP’s favorites. I made this for Thanksgiving 2002, as I always do, but put it in a beautiful Victorian jello mold DP had bought—it looked great.

1-8 oz. (large) package lime jello
2 tablespoons hot water
12 oz can 7-Up
20 oz can drained pineapple
8 oz package cream cheese
1 cup pecans

Heat can of 7-Up. Take off heat and add Jello. Add the cream cheese that has softened in hot water or let sit at room temperature for awhile (you can microwave it for 1-2 minutes to soften). Add pineapple and pecans. Refrigerate.
Note: This looks beautiful in a jello mold. Just spray it with Pam and wipe with a paper towel before filling.


APPLESAUCE-BERRY GELATIN MOLD

2 packages (3 ounces each) strawberry gelatin
2 cups boiling water
1 can (16 ounces) whole-berry cranberry sauce
1¾ cups chunky applesauce

In a large bowl, dissolve gelatin in boiling water. Stir in cranberry sauce and applesauce. Pour into a six-cup ring mold coated with nonstick cooking spray. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Unmold onto a serving platter. Serves 12. - From Gloria Coates of Madison (CT Post)


Aunt T's "Green Stuff"

Lime Jello Salad

2 cups miniature marshmallows
1 cup milk
1 large box lime jell-o
6oz. cream cheese ( or 8 or 9oz. works)
2/3 cup Hellman's mayonnaise
2 l/2 cups undrained, crushed pineapple (a 1 lb. 4 oz. can)
1 cup heavy cream, whipped ( or use cool whip)

Melt marshmallows in milk over low heat; pour over jell-o, stirringuntil dissolved. Combine softened cream cheese and mayonnaise,mixing until well blended. Gradually add jell-o, mixing untilwell blended. Stir in pineapple. Chill until slightly thickened.Fold in whipped cream. Pour into 2 qt. mold or 9" x 13" dish.Chill until firm. Can be served right out of the dish or to make it fancy, cut a square and put it on a lettuce leaf.


V's Aunt Roslyn’s Cranberry-Jello Mold

Get one can of whole cranberries (I use the type that’s almost a solid—without much juice). If you get the type with juice—I would take two cans--drain the juice and save to use to mix with the Jello. Two small boxes or one large box of black raspberry or black cherry jello (good to also use one of each for flavor—can also use sugar-free jello).

Lay cranberries in bottom of a mold. I make the jello (heating and mixing in with water or juice from above according to directions. Cool in refrigerator a bit and stir in 2 cups of sour cream (non-fat works if you want—or it can be left out completely or substituted with cool whip for sweeter more desert-like taste). If no mixing in, just harden mold in the refrigerator—unmold and serve.


And last but not least, the recipe Mom sent:


Aunt J’s Strawberry-Cream Squares

Two 3-ounce packages strawberry jello
2 C water
Two 10-ounce packages frozen strawberries
13 ½ ounce can crushed pienapple
2 large ripe bananas, diced
1 C sour cream

Dissolve jello in boiling water. Add frozen strawberries; stir until thawed. Add pineapple and bananas.
Pour half into 8x8 dish. Chill firm. Spread sour cream on layer; pour remaining jello on top. Chill firm. Cut into squares. Top with sour cream dollops.

TGIT

Lunch: 12 noon

T-6 hours: soak turkey to complete defrosting
T-4: prep turkey for oven
T-3.5: bake turkey
T-3: Parade begins (I think); hopefully, guests will have arrived; start drinking (mulled apple cider, of course).
T-2: prep dressing
T-1: bake dressing; make green beans
T-.75: bake yams
T-.5: rest turkey; make corn
T-.25: put marshmallows on yams

Lunch is served, probably buffet-style.

Somebody else cleans.
Somebody else entertains kids.
Nap.

Let's hope at least that first part goes smoothly.

Give Us This Day

I can't bake bread.

Sure, I make a mean quick bread--several of them, actually, including the Amish Friendship Bread I've blogged about here (yep, still feeding the starter on my counter, if you want any!). And I can bake cakes, cookies, and a wonderful crumb crust apple pie (albeit with frozen pie crust).

But if the baking requires some actual manual dexterity--i.e. kneading or rolling (as for pie crust)--I don't know how. Apparently, my mom's mom, could bake, and I know that my mom's sister, my Aunt T, bakes, but I have never really gotten a bread baking lesson (though, I did get a wonderful noodle lesson from Aunt T. Homemade croutons are the best. And she makes a wonderful dewberry cobbler). I don't really remember my mom baking, though she says she knows how--I mean, she did teach me the cookies and cakes, but not bread.

I've tried. I followed Laurie Colwin's recipe for bread and it was too hard and chewy--overkneaded, right? I also tried Julia Child's recipe--same results. I think breadbaking is not a skill you can learn from a book or television show. You need numerous opportunities to stand with a real baker and learn as you go along--I think a lot of it is about feel. Something books and tv just don't have.

I haven't tried bread baking in awhile, mainly because of the kiddos' wheat allergy. Seems a waste of time, maybe even cruel somehow, to perfect a skill I can't share with my kids right now. About a year ago, the NYTimes published a recipe that was easy and practically no-fail. But I didn't try it then. I'm reminded of it because today they've published yet another no-fail, no-knead bread recipe. I read the article and that desire to bake my family's own bread crept up on me again. I could be a secret, midnight baker, providing loaves surreptiously for DP and myself. The holidays are coming up. Maybe it's a good time to try again.

-=-=-=-=-=

Recipe: Simple Crusty Bread
1 1/2 tablespoons yeast
1 1/2 tablespoons kosher salt
6 1/2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour, more for dusting dough
Cornmeal.
1. In a large bowl or plastic container, mix yeast and salt into 3 cups lukewarm water (about 100 degrees). Stir in flour, mixing until there are no dry patches. Dough will be quite loose. Cover, but not with an airtight lid. Let dough rise at room temperature 2 hours (or up to 5 hours).
2. Bake at this point or refrigerate, covered, for as long as two weeks. When ready to bake, sprinkle a little flour on dough and cut off a grapefruit-size piece with serrated knife. Turn dough in hands to lightly stretch surface, creating a rounded top and a lumpy bottom. Put dough on pizza peel sprinkled with cornmeal; let rest 40 minutes. Repeat with remaining dough or refrigerate it.
3. Place broiler pan on bottom of oven. Place baking stone on middle rack and turn oven to 450 degrees; heat stone at that temperature for 20 minutes.
4. Dust dough with flour, slash top with serrated or very sharp knife three times. Slide onto stone. Pour one cup hot water into broiler pan and shut oven quickly to trap steam. Bake until well browned, about 30 minutes. Cool completely.
Yield: 4 loaves.
Variation: If not using stone, stretch rounded dough into oval and place in a greased, nonstick loaf pan. Let rest 40 minutes if fresh, an extra hour if refrigerated. Heat oven to 450 degrees for 5 minutes. Place pan on middle rack.

Dr. Jeff Hertzberg, Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day

Are They Twins?

It was lunchtime today, after a small but delightful playgroup, and we were having ground turkey burgers, mixed veggies, and ketchup. They devoured the burgers and ketchup, which surprised me because we'd inhaled a whole bowl of fruit salad earlier. They even ate some of the veggies (the mixed veggies--typical corn, carrots, and peas--are hard to eat because they are so small--they actually prefer big broccoli and cauliflower because they're easier to munch).

DS finished first, as is usual, and started to play. It's been a struggle to get him to finish, meaning to announce that he is done and then wash hands. Often he hops up and runs off. But we all like them in big kiddo chairs instead of the booster seats with straps. It's more flexible when other people visit. And it's cleaner because there aren't all these straps and nooks.

DD has been finishing much more slowly. I'm not sure it's because she actually eats more slowly or more food. I think it's because she likes to sit with me. When DS runs off in the playroom, I often sit with DD in the kitchen. At the least, I'll clean up and go back and forth. But it is quality singleton time. And so she has gotten slower and slower at eating.

Today, seeing a long pause in her picking at the carrots, I asked if she were done. Yes, she was, and wanted to wash hands.

Then I made the mistake.

"Okay, now it's time for rest time."

"Don't wash my hands, Mommy, I'm not done." Nope, needed to eat every last small veggie on her plate. DS, sensing things going on longer than usual, kept coming back in to check. She even fed him some of the peas, like you'd feed a puppy dog from the table (one of these days I'll get to blog about DP's theory that DS is a puppy and DD is a cat).

But DS was looking so tired that I decided to take him upstairs to start rest time, hoping he'd get a nap, which has not happened in the three months they've been "resting" together. He wasn't thrilled about that, asking where sis was as we climbed the stairs.

I was surprised to hear from downstairs, "I'm done, Mommy, I'm done. Come wash my hands."

Then, "Brother, I'm coming!"

I guess they really are twins.

Holiday WW Recipes

So, I've been having some struggles on WW recently but I'm still going and committed to it. I liked Saturday's meeting because instead of focusing on exercise or portions, we talked food. I was shocked to add up the points (for those of you who don't know WW, each food has a points value. You get so many points a day--for instance, right now, I get 27. There's another plan, too--Core--it's a lot like South Beach). Even with the healthier, kiddo-friendly menu, the meal adds up to 3/4 of my daily allowance easily. Good thing it's the only meal we eat that day!

I came away with some new recipes and lower calorie versions of favorites. I think we're adapting the stuffing recipe for the kiddos (i.e. GF bread crumbs and/or a box of wild rice) and maybe the pumpkin fluff (get this, by loading it with fat and real sugar to avoid the fake stuff). Otherwise, our menu is much as I listed a few posts ago--heavy on the veggies, light on anything starchy. With only the sweet potatoes exactly the same.

Happy Turkey Day!

-=-=-=

Bavarian Cream--3 pts (you know, I hope I copied this down right)

Whip 3 egg whites. Fold into prepared pudding. Mix as trifle with 24 ladyfingers and 3 1/2 cups berries. Try these combos: vanilla pudding with orange sections; white chocolate pudding with raspberries; chocolate pudding with strawberries.

Pumpkin Fluff--2 pts

8 oz ff cool whip
1 pkg butterscotch or cheesecake pudding
15 1/2 oz pumpkin
1/2 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice

Mix.

Banana Split Cake--4 pts

Vanilla pudding
ff graham cracker crust
1 sliced banana
1 cup strawberries
1/2 cup pineapple, crushed I think
1 container ff cool whip

Make vanilla pudding with 1 1/2 cup milk. Pour into graham cracker crust. Layer banana, strawberries, and pineapple. Spread with cool whip. Refrigerate. 4 servings.

Debbie's Dressing--2 pts

2 packages mushrooms
1 big onion
1 whole package celery
low sodium chicken stock
appx 2 cups stuffing (1/2 Pepperidge Farm bag)

Saute veggies in chicken stock. Add stuffing. Bake. Serving is 1 cup.

Other interesting tidbits:

You can substitute ff evaporated milk for heavy cream; 1 egg and 3 whites for 3 eggs; 3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa for 1 oz baking chocolate.

Try making mashed potatoes with a mix of potatoes and cauliflower, mixed with skim milk and sour cream.

Green bean casserole made with all ff ingredients has 3 pts a serving.

A Bertucci's roll has 9 points!!!!

And totally unrelated to Thanksgiving, a crockpot recipe:

Cheesy Chicken Crockpot--5 pts

2 lbs boneless skinless breasts
2 cans ff cream of mushroom soup
1 can cheddar cheese soup
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

Combine and cook on low for 6-8 hours.

I Love Potlucks

I love potlucks. Even the word is cheerful. Seems to recall to mind leprechauns and rainbows and something special in a pot. Or is that just me?

Handy Wikipedia tells me that the word "potluck" does not derive from the Native American potlatch but appeared in print as early as 1592 in England and meant serving whatever you find to guests (I abbreviate the article.) That doesn't sound so lucky.

I'm not sure when I first went to a potluck. We didn't go to church when I was growing up so I have no fond memories of church suppers. We had family gatherings, usually around 4th of July and at Christmas, and everyone took something but no one called it a potluck. I think I first remember a true potluck when DP was invited to one when we were living in separate states. She told me then, and I remember it everytime we go now, that lesbians are into potlucks. Something about the equality of it all. So, she called me to ask what in the world she could take. I suggested a Toll House Pie. Easy. Cheap. Chocoloate. Over a series of days and phone calls, I got her the recipe and the list of ingredients--we were in love so why email when you could talk on the phone? We could pay off our mortgage with what we spent on phone calls then!--and talked to her while it baked. And then talked her down when the smoke alarm went off. What could've happened? I failed to mention she should put the pie on a cookie sheet, thinking she knew that. But of course, this was her first foray into baking and she had no clue. Nor did she have a cookie sheet. All's well that ends well. They liked her pie.

Now I go to potlucks quite regularly. Church, playgroup, neighborhood gatherings. I used to always take dessert--Mexican Chocolate Sheet Cake, some kind of bundt cake, always chocolate, rarely cookies. Now, with the kids' allergies and my being on Weight Watchers (more on that if I have time in another post), I take fruit salad a lot. But I'd love to have a signature dish that everyone always expects and raves about. Like my friend J's cornbread that she serves with peach jam. Out of this world! We moms dig in like we've never eaten when she brings that over. And T's baked good! Very exciting when she goes to playgroup. People at church vary it just enough that I never know what we'll be eating. There will be vegetarian dishes, gluten-free dishes, and the marvelous baked good of Miss L, but it's never exactly the same.

Which is what I love. I love trying new dishes, especially dishes that people are proud enough of (or competent enough to cook) to bring to share. Sometimes it's the very standard cream cheese/salsa/cheese bean dip; other times--like church today--it's something that tastes good but is almost impossible to identify exactly (was it pumpkin or squash mixed with yogurt or sour cream or whipped cream to make that dip that might have had some sugar or some curry? My palate is just not that developed). Of course, there's always a slight fear about the cleanliness of thy neighbor's kitchen or their standards of quality. But I haven't gotten sick yet. Then there's the "that wasn't what I thought it was going to be" knee-jerk reaction when the orange stuff is curry pumpkin dip for veggies and not pumpkin pie dip for fruit. Ugh. It is the surprise factor of potlucks that make it hard to take the kiddos--you just can't be sure what's in a dish if you didn't make it. So, this week found me hovering over the table with a tasting fork asking passers-by if they made the dressing and what's in it. Luckily, everyone knows why I'm asking.

Potlucks do drive me nuts, in one respect, though. I always want the recipes. And I don't always get them. Take for instance a funeral supper we went to this year--amazing almond bar cookies--but despite asking practically everyone (not at the actual funeral but later), I have never found who made them or how. Sometimes, people do promise me the recipe and never follow through. I only feel comfortable bugging someone for a recipe so many times. And sometimes, of course, there is no recipe, like Mr. K's chicken and rice curry bake that he described to me in theory but which I'm not sure I can reproduce. Happily, I do often come away with a recipe. And of course I always share them (see below for Toll House Pie and the sweet potatoes I made this week for playgroup).

Tis the season for potlucking. I have several more and can't wait. But please, if you read this, bring along the recipe!

-=-=-=-=-=

Toll House Pie


½ cup brown sugar
½ cup white sugar
½ cup flour
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup chopped pecans
2 beaten eggs
2 sticks hot melted butter
1 tablespoon vanilla

Mix all ingredients together. Pour into unbacked pie shell. Bake 45 minutes at 350°F. Top with Cool Whip when serving.

Mexican Chocolate Sheet Cake


1 stick margarine or butter
½ cup vegetable oil
2-1oz. squares unsweetened chocolate or 6 tablespoons cocoa
1 cup water
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 cups sugar
½ cup buttermilk or sour milk (to sour regular milk, place 1 2/2 teaspoons white vinegar in ½ cups measure, fill with milk)
2 eggs, beaten
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine margarine, oil, chocolate and water in a saucepan and heat until chocolate is melted. Combine flour, baking soda, sugar, milk, eggs, cinnamon and vanilla in a large bowl, then blend with first mixture. Pour batter into a greased 12 x 18 sheet cake pan and bake 20-25 minutes or until cake is down (top springs back when touched lightly). Leave cake in pan and frost with Mexican Chocolate Icing while cake is still warm.

Mexican Chocolate Icing

1 stick margarine or butter
2-1 oz. squares unsweetened chocolate (or 6 tablespoons cocoa plus 2 tablespoons
of margarine or butter)
6 tablespoons milk
1 lb. powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ cup chopped pecans

Combine margarine, chocolate, and milk in a saucepan over medium-high heat until bubbles form around the edge. Remove from heat. Stir in powdered sugar, a little at a time (this is important). Stir in vanilla and pecans. Beat to a spreading consistency. Spread warm icing on warm cake.
Mom

Sweet Potatoes with Marshmallows

Yams
No holiday is complete without these. The browning of the marshmallows was always my job. I only found out when I went to make my own Thanksgiving meal in 1997 that Mom always doubled the recipe so I would have enough for leftovers! This is the pre-doubled version.

29 oz. can yams, drained
4 tablespoons brown sugar
½ teaspoon cinnamon
orange juice

Bake at 375°F. Add marshmallows to brown.

Mom

My Needy Children

It's that time of year again. Boxes in church for food and clothing donations. Catalogues from charities touting gifts to support their causes. Craft fair and cookie cafe fundraisers. Toy drives. It is the time of year when we are most encouraged to help others.

But of course, the most desperate people of all are my own children as we walk them past the toy aisle at Target. "Mommy, I need more stuff," DD pleads. Soon, boxes of Diego snow rescue vehicles and Dora's twin siblings are coming off the shelves in twos and threes. No, no, I say, no more toys until Christmas.

They're two and they don't really remember that you get gifts at Christmas. DD eyes me suspiciously.

"That's right, we're not buying anything new until Christmas. But you can make a list for Santa of things you would like."

"But I NEED this," she cries. "I need Dora babies. I need Diego helicopter."

"No, sweetie, you don't need them. You want them."

Soon, DS starts in, "Tell Santa I NEED Diego. Tell Santa I NEED Diego."

They are chanting in unison, a ghastly consumerist carol, "I NEED it! I NEED it!"

It makes me want to give all their toys to tots and never go to Target again.

Beware of Dinosaurs

So, I thought that Barney was pretty simple and easy to understand (too easy, don't get me started on the gender stereotypes on that show). We don't watch it much, just if the kids are up extra-early, i.e. before 6 a.m. As they were today.

Anyway, DD said, "Here comes Barney and his babies." Meaning those other little dinosaurs (Baby Bop, BJ, and Biff? Riff? Whatever).

Sure, makes sense. Anytime there is a grownup and a child, we think of the relationship as parental.

Except, I'm pretty sure in this case, it's not true. Just can't see Barney with kids. Are they cousins? Friends? Do dinosaurs in Barneyland even have children? Does Barney have sex?

Nope, it's way too early in the morning to think about that.

DD's Theme Song

DD: I'm James.

Me: What, sweetie? (because, well, her name isn't James, even if it is a family name).

DD: I'm lots of fun. And Nate is Thomas. He's the cheeky one.


Maybe you have to know the song.

Ten points to you if you can guess.

The Cat Did It

First, you should know that we have a cat named Albus.

I was in the bathroom the other day with the door open (as is required, even when I just have to pee--some people have a family bed, we have a family bathroom. Privacy is only something the kids get when I change their diapers. And boy are they adamant about that. DD gets upset if the cat walks by) and heard DS making a noise that seemed to indicate something was amiss. I asked DS if he was intentionally dropping food on the floor, and he replied, "It was Albus."

Mind you, the cat was in the bathroom with me.

DD Doesn't Have Two Mommies

It's happened several times recently: I mention to DD that she has two mommies and she says no. Hmmmm, odd, because, well, she does.

And then she clarifies: she has one "mommy" and one "mama."

No, DD!

My daughter has a new favorite book, No, David! by David Shannon. It's about a little boy who hears "no" and its variants all day long. Until his mother says, "Yes, I love you," at the end. (By the way, does anyone else think he looks like a satanic Charlie Brown?)

Now, when I taught Sunday School, I learned of a discussion about people who really don't like this book. They don't like all the negative language (though they found that their kids really identify with it). These are the same people who don't like The Giving Tree because they think it is all about selfishness and enabling, not love and generosity. Anyway, there is also a faction who love the book because a). their kids do and b). they think it reflects some realities of parenting and c). the kid does hear I love you at the end.

I hadn't read the book when we found it at a used book store when we were cashing in points before the kiddos arrived. But I knew the controversy and bought it anyway. And I've got to say, I like it. First, it's fun to read--you can get very dramatic with the reading. I even wag my finger. DD does it right along with me. Secondly, I don't use "no" much so I don't take it personally--I'm into positive language and rephrase "no" accordingly (like, for safety). Thirdly, they like it (though DS looked a little stricken tonight as I was reading, until I stopped and he asked me to do it again). In fact, I can hear DD on the monitor now reciting the story back to herself.

DP first suggested that DD liked this book because she was getting ideas of things to do--climb up chairs to find the cookie jar, run around outside naked, play ball in the house--all things David gets in trouble for. Tonight, I figured out what she likes--she likes being bossy. She's the mommy telling David "no," right down to the hand gestures. That's why she always wants to see the mommy in the front with her hands on her hips. We do always joke that DS has three mommies!!

And tonight, the funniest thing happened. After I read each page, I heard DD translate the "no" language into what I would say--instead of "don't play with your food" it was "food is for eating" and not "be quiet" but "use your inside voice."

I guess that means the positive language is getting through.

Or not.

High Praise

A quickie because my battery is going to go: This weekend, we were at Old Sturbridge Village, a living history museum, where the kids were enjoying playing in the farm house. At some point, DP tells me, another boy--probably 6 or 7 years old--brought DD a wooden bowl to help with her cooking. He effortlessly held the bowl while she transferred the play eggs. But she was impressed and she congratulated him, very mommy-like, "Good holding the bowl."

Super Turkey Day

I'm working on my annual Thanksgiving menu right now. I'm hoping to go shopping on Thursday night, to both the local big grocery store and the natural food store too.

We've considered many options for Turkey Day this year--from all-out traditional meal with many dishes the babes couldn't eat, to restaurant meal (either traditional or Thai/Chinese) with more option for the kids, to our current choice of a full allergy-free meal.

Which means mostly new recipes.

Here's what we have so far:

Turkey
Gravy (with cornstarch instead of flour roux)
Rachael Ray's dressing squares (with GF crackers)
Mashed potatoes (sans butter and milk)
Sweet potatoes with marshmallows (one of the only original recipes besides the turkey and cranberry sauce, if we don't just buy canned. Keeping the rings preserved intact, of course.)
Cranberry sauce
Corn niblets
Green beans with onions and bacon
Jello salad (see previous post)
Pumpkin pie with GF crust (or just a regular pie, de-crusted for babes; by Mrs Smith!)

We haven't really figured out appetizers yet. Maybe chips and salsa, maybe even deviled eggs (though it's very Easter-y) plus crudites and a pickle plate. DD loves half-sours. And DS loves olives. Plus tomatoes, celery, carrots, baby corn, hummus.

I think my in-laws are bringing Thai desserts, if they can find ones that meet the allergy criteria (currently no wheat, dairy, nuts or honey and only moderate soy and eggs). Otherwise, I'm hoping Ar-Ma will make her Thai iced coffee and iced tea--with sweetened condensed milk!

The kiddos are very excited about "Turkey Day" as we call it. I think they don't realize that we're going to actually EAT turkey. Or that the turkey we eat comes from the animal itself. No sense ruining the day just yet. But they see the lit, inflatable turkeys in two of the yards on our block (and have seen the family of turkeys that often meanders around the neighborhood) and are eager for the day to arrive. Unfortunately, I only know one Thanksgiving song, "Super Turkey"--"he always gets away, boom boom boom, Super Turkey, you won't eat him on Thanksgiving Day." That might clarify for the kids what happens to the turkeys. Ugh.

But at least they'll love the parade!

-=-=-=-=-

DP's Turkey

DP is in charge of turkey now and for our first Thanksgiving in New York, in 2001, she researched it well. We bought a really nice calphalon roasting pan, with rack, an instant read thermometer, and a whole Butterball turkey, that resisted defrosting, especially because our fridge was so cold. Her technique was derived from Alton Brown on Food Network. What an amazing golden brown beautiful turkey! The very best ever!

Preheat oven to 500°F. Wash turkey. Rub with soft butter. Salt and pepper. Insert onions and other aromatics in cavity. Using tinfoil, make a triangular bonnet for the breast of the turkey, smear with butter, and save.
Sear turkey in oven for 30 minutes.
Reduce heat to 350°F and place foil bonnet on turkey. Roast for 15 minutes per pound (approximately 3 hours total for 15 lb bird), or until breast reaches 161°F and thigh reaches 181°F. If more color is desired on the breast, remove bonnet for last 15-30 minutes. Do not baste; do not add water; do not open oven.
Rest for 30 minutes before carving.


Stuffing Squares from Everyday Food with Rachael Ray

4 ounces (1 sleeve) saltines
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
One 8-ounce package white mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
2 carrots, coarsely shredded (about 1 cup)
2 ribs celery, coarsely shredded (about 1/2 cup)
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 large eggs, beaten with 1/4 cup water


1. Position a rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat to 400°. Grease a 9-by-13-inch baking dish. Using your hands, crush the saltines into fine crumbs over a bowl.2. In a large skillet, melt 1 tablespoon butter over medium heat. Add the mushrooms and cook, stirring often, until browned, about 5 minutes; add to the ground saltines.3. Add 3 tablespoons butter, the onion, salt and pepper to the skillet and cook, stirring often, until the onion is softened and lightly browned, about 8 minutes. Add to the mushroom-saltine mixture. Add the carrots, celery and baking soda; mix well. Stir in the eggs.4. Spoon the mixture into the prepared dish and spread evenly. Melt the remaining 1 tablespoon butter and brush on top of the mixture. Bake until browned, 25 to 30 minutes. Cut the stuffing into squares and serve hot.

Sweet Potatoes with Marshmallows

No holiday is complete without these. The browning of the marshmallows was always my job. I only found out when I went to make my own Thanksgiving meal in 1997 that Mom always doubled the recipe so I would have enough for leftovers! This is the pre-doubled version.

29 oz. can yams, drained
4 tablespoons brown sugar
½ teaspoon cinnamon
orange juice

Bake at 375°F. Add marshmallows to brown.

Mom


Cranberry Sauce
A la Martha Stewart in 2000. I’m not sure we ever wrote the recipe down but substituted orange juice for water on the Ocean Spray package, with a little less sugar. It’s almost replaced the canned as my favorite.

12 oz. cranberries (one bag)
1 cup orange juice
¾ cup sugar

Bring orange juice and sugar to a boil in a high-sided saucepan. Add cranberries and return to a boil, stirring regularly. Boil gently for 5 minutes. Cool to room temperature and then refrigerate. Make a few days ahead for best flavor.

Tangy Green Beans
A savory way to improve canned green beans, even with just the vinegar.

4 slices bacon
1/2 cup chopped onion
2-16 oz. cans whole green beans, drained
3 tablespoons white vinegar
1/2 teaspoon beef bouillon
3/4 cup water
1/4 teaspoon pepper


Microwave bacon until brown, removed and crumble. Combine other ingredients; cook until thoroughly heated.

Mom

Jello, Jello Everywhere . . .

I need a recipe. For jello salad.

I have googled jello salad and come up with so many (gross sounding--spam jello, anyone?) examples that I need to thin out the contenders a little bit.

So, if you have a jello salad recipe that you like (or think kids will like) please post it as a comment.

I'll post the one I serve for Thanksgiving!

Many thanks.

Update on Bathtub Crayons

Well, our bathtub crayons finally dried, though I'm not sure we had a sunny day (as the recipe called for).

I give them a thumbs down.

First, they are way too soapy. I had to drain the tub 3 times to get the kiddos rinsed off.

Secondly, and more importantly, they didn't really write.

But they were fun to make.

Soup for Nuts

DS loves soup. Magically, he can actually get the soup to his mouth with a spoon without losing a drop. Which is good because he had 5 bowls tonight. Now, he doesn't always like the ingredients in the soup, it's the broth itself that he loves. I think this is due to his Ar-Ma and Ar-Gong, DP's parents. They first gave him fresh spring chicken broth at lunch at their house and he loved sipping the soup from a deep Chinese soup spoon.

Tonight's soup was pretty good, though not at all authentic. Let's call it "I bought most of the Ingredients at Target" Mock Italian Wedding Soup.

-=-=-=-=

Mock Italian Wedding Soup

6 cups low sodium chicken stock
2 cups water
1 tablespoon minced garlic
2 carrots, chopped
1 pkg frozen chopped spinach
meatballs (I used 1/3 of a big bag of Swedish Meatballs from IKEA we had in the fridge)
2 eggs, lightly beaten

Combine stock and water. Add garlic, carrots, spinach, and meatballs. You can add the spinach and meatballs while still frozen. Cook until heated through. To finish, slowly pour egg into boiling soup while stirring. Serve.

Me


The Real Recipe for Italian Wedding Soup (at least the one we've used before)

1/2 pound extra-lean ground beef
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons dry bread crumbs (or finely crushed cracker crumbs)
1 tablespoon grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 teaspoon dried basil
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
5 3/4 cups chicken broth
2 cups thinly sliced escarole (or spinach)
1 cup uncooked orzo pasta
1/3 cup finely chopped carrot
2-3 cloves garlic, crushed

In medium bowl, combine meat, egg, bread crumbs, cheese, basil and onion powder; shape into 3/4 inch balls.
In large saucepan, heat broth to boiling; stir in escarole, orzo pasta, chopped carrot and meatballs. Return to boil, then reduce heat to medium. Cook at slow boil for 10 minutes, or until pasta is al dente. Stir frequently to prevent sticking.

allrecipes.com

Amuse Bouche

Why it's hard to dress a toddler: the other day I was trying to get DS changed out of his pajamas top and into his clothes, "Here, let's change your shirt."

"No thanks. I have one."

But of course.

-=-=-=-=-=

Parroting: We were coloring on the butcher paper taped to the coffee table the other day and DS kept bringing me handfuls of crayons, "Pick one from me." And I'd choose a color and draw a color in a dot. Then he, and later DD, would say, "good job," or "great," or "good idea."

Is that what I sound like?

-=-=-=-=-=

DD and I had a fascinating conversation in the car the other day. It went something like this:

DD: "Mommy is Thea's Mommy. Mommy is Thea's Mommy."

Me: "Yes, sweetie, I'm your mommy. I'm proud to be your mommy. I love you."

DD: "I love you, Mommy."

DD: "Mommy is a girl."

Me: "Yes."

DD: "Nate is a boy. I am a big girl. Gommie is a girl."

Me: "Yes, and Pop is a big boy."

DD: "Gommie and Pop coming to the mall for Christmas with Santa."

Me: "Yes, we can go to the mall to see Santa with Gommie and Pop. Later."

DD: "And the Easter Bunny?"

Me: "Well, the Easter Bunny won't be there with Santa."

DD: "Where is the Easter Bunny?"

Me: "The Easter Bunny is, uh, in a garden in England."

DD: "Where is Santa? At the mall?"

Me: "Santa lives at the North Pole."

DD: "Santa Claus's name is Santa?"

Me: "Yes."

DD: "And the Easter Bunny's name is Easter? She's a girl."

Me: "Okay, sure, she's a girl."

DD: "And Mommy's name is Mommy."

Me: "Yes, sweetie, it is."

-=-=-=-=

Our First Bit of Name Calling: DS proudly swiped a grape from DD's plate during snack this week. She hysterically yelled "No! MY GRAPE!" while he gloated, "I have your grape!" And then she said, "You are a booger boy!"

-=-=-=-=

Imagination: DD, as I think I've mentioned, imagines objects are all sorts of other objects. Recently, grape stems have been caterpillars and grasshoppers, while large sticks in the backyard have been flying dinosaurs.

-=-=-=-=

More holiday trouble: everytime it's dark, the kids think it's Halloween and time to trick or treat. (It's our own fault; they just haven't been outside much at night.)

-=-=-=-=

We were outside making a huge pile of leaves yesterday, and DD and DS decided it was very much like playing in the bathtub. They used the branches of the rosebush as the "faucet" and hopped up repeatedly to turn the water off and on. Then they would "splash" the leaves all over themselves and lie down to kick.

-=-=-=-=

DD was pulling her dolly around today and I asked--you know, I'm not sure what I asked, let's just say I asked where they were going--and DD said, "Baby is having a rough day."

-=-=-=-=

The kiddos often like to play like they are going somewhere. Their top three: playgroup, church, and Target.

Our family's Holy Trinity.

-=-=-=-=

Last but not least: I might have to start calling DD and DS by the nicknames "Rosie" and "Thomas," respectively. They actually asked if I could call them that the other day. It lasted just a few minutes, while they were playing trains, but it was fun all the same. Those might make great blog nicknames.

Oh, and they said I was Sir Topham Hatt!

That be Fun

I thought we were going to the Laurie Berkner concert for the kids. But I realized today that I wanted to go for myself. This became abundantly clear when DD had a breakdown 20 minutes into the show and wanted to go home. DP took her into the lobby to recover, though she was calling for me, but I stayed behind with DS. He quickly decided that he couldn't be without his sissy. So we left. And I didn't want to. I like Laurie Berkner. She's pretty much the only music I listen to these days and I like it. She's kinda like a silly Indigo Girl. Maybe a little funkier. And I wanted to see her. And I didn't want to go home. This was my day in the city, something wildly different from my usual suburban day, and I wanted it to be perfect, transcendant, even.

Let me start from the beginning.

The inspiration came to me as I was checking out the LB website for upcoming tv appearances. There was a concert. In the city. "That be fun," as DS says. We liked her CDs, watched her DVD, and saw her on Noggin and Jack's Big Music Show. Everytime we passed a certain clump of trees outside the library, DS would sit down and start singing, "Under a Shady Tree." I always invoked the dinosaur song, with "stop and take a rest," during naptime. We loved to play chase to "I'm Gonna Catch You," ever since we first heard that song at a church playgroup. Surely we were old enough to sit and listen to our favorite musician for an hour.

I told my friends and my playgroup, and three other families thought "that be fun" too. On the day the tickets went on sale, DP was charged with securing the best seats. Then the Carnegie Hall website crashed, sending panic throughout tristate suburbia and preschooler parents everywhere. But got the tickets we did, eventually. DP swore she wasn't going to be the one parent to turn up ticketless. I think it took her an hour. By then, we had balcony seats, but all the way at the front. This made me a little nervous, given our propensity for throwing things and climbing, but surely there would be enough distractions.

For weeks, we discussed ideas for the day (being the New Yorkers in the group--her by birth, me because we were living in the city on September 11. Yes, Mom, I'm still a Texan. It's a paradox. And another post.): driving, train, or a combo? Would we travel together as a group and have lunch? We learned it was NYC Marathon day. Hmmm, that made driving a challenge. So we were going to drive halfway and take the train the rest of the way. But the availability of seats on the way in and the traffic on the way home squashed that. So, train all the way it was. Where to eat? Something toursity and predictable like Hard Rock? Or take our chances with local cafes. Finally, we decided Carnegie Deli would work for our allergies, with turkey and matzo ball soup.

The day arrived--beautiful, especially after the hurricane that was Day out with Thomas--and the kids were excited. They loved the train ride in, even enjoying playing "fort" in the shelter on the platform with DP as we waited for it to arrive. Perfect facing window seats let each of them have a window and they looked out excitedly identifying clouds, trees, cars, trucks, boats, and bridges. And talked about all the people and what they were wearing--the man behind us, fully decked out in Redskins paraphenalia for the game, was the "Red Man." Apropos, no? Actually, looking around the train--with the orthodox Jewish family next to us, several Asian men, and several African Americans--reminded me of the importance of leaving our rather uniform small town (where we are the diversity for others) and visiting the menagerie of the city. Though, I soon became rather uncomfortable with the "talk about the people" game and issued a "it's not nice to talk about other people" edict. I could just hear them saying something about someone being big or old.

They loved walking off the platform into the giant space that is GCT. DD just stood there, mouth agape, spinning around looking at the stars and all the people. DS was a little overwhelmed and needed us in hand for the walk to the subway. Which they loved. DP let DD hang from the overhead bar, the city's littlest straphanger. DS followed suit and they (and the other, probably out of town, riders) laughed all the way to Carnegie Hall.

And we got out in the crisp, cool air of a beautiful fall day, surrounded by imposing, impressive skyscreapers. The sidewalks were full of cops and pedestrians heading to the marathon, with taxis and buses and cars heading away from the closed streets. And, oh, that NYC smell. We walked towards CPS and got lots of orange doo-dads from the ING people--hats, glasses, and pom pons--to cheer for marathoners. We didn't see too many, just a few men and women in the wheelchair cycles. But DS wore his hat and waved his pom pon each time they passed. DD was more interested in the smell. I had realized I could smell horses and so she started sniffing and then kepty asking where they were. A pile of manure proved they had been there recently.

Lunch was at Carnegie Deli--corned beef for me and DP, turkey and matzo ball soup for the kids--though both ate more pickles than anything else. And DD liked the corned beef more than the turkey; she is DP's daugher, afterall. And as lunch ended, DP realized the waitresses were talking about the twins in Thai, so she interjected and suddenly we had a whole coterie of waitresses admiring their skin color and wider-than-almond eyes--"not the slit eyes of the Chinese''--DP held her tongue. And the kids said "Sawadee" to them all.

And it was time for the concert. At Carnegie Hall. Ironically, it was my very first concert there. And it's beautiful, even filled with crying toddlers missing their afternoon naps. We got two "Shaky Eggs" to play with and then tried desperately to wait for the doors to open. The poor house staff; I'm not sure they're used to preschoolers running and climbing everywhere and they were so flustered. They even opened early, I think, because of the mounting chaos in the lobby.

Our seats were frightening--first row, top balcony--perfect for dropping shaky eggs or programs on other preschoolers, or whole toddler bodies. Did I mention I don't like heights? I'm sure I scared the kids with the death grips in which I held their little excited bodies.

And then some guy talked. Yadda-yadda-yadda. We need Laurie! Don't you understand we were up an hour early because of the time change? That we walked and left strollers at home? That we didn't nap yet? This concert needs to start and finish before BREAKDOWN time.

Later, DD told us that Laurie wore yellow and Susie wore brown. DP didn't even know Susie's name. But then she doesn't know all the words to "I'm a Mess" either. And they played guitars. And the piano. DD sat mesmerized and stared at it all. DS did too, as I bounced him on my knee and sang the songs. Most of our favorites.

But we lost it before "Pig on Her Head." And I could see the pig sitting on the prop table so I knew it was coming. But DD was done. And then DS didn't want to be there alone. And we quickly took a cab to GCT, where we caught the same train we would have if we'd seen the whole thing.

And I cried all the way there, just as they cried all the way home on the train. I was disappointed. I wanted to see the concert. I wanted it to be this memorable, amazing experience. And we didn't get to see it all. And they weren't happy; indeed, they were miserable. And it was my fault. I had dragged us to this concert, thinking it was such a good idea. With no strollers, with no nap. And I was embarrassed, ashamed even, in front of my friends, not because the kids were upset but because it hadn't gone well, because somehow I had done something wrong, because I had failed my kids.

The next day, all they remembered was how much fun they had. That Susie had worn brown. And Laurie had played the guitar. That we had sung and danced. And they had ridden in a taxi. That be fun.

Is that a Question?

"Mommy want to leave?"

The children looked at me from the edges of the coffee table, desperate to climb on top.

My kiddos don't need me anymore. Just now, both DD and DS queried, "Mommy want to leave?" Which sounds like a question, but isn't, if you are familiar with their sentence structure. When they want you to do something, they phrase it as an question, when actually it is more of a statement. The above should be translated, "Mommy, I want you to leave." It took me awhile to understand this construction but, after weeks of "Mommy want to put my shoes on?" and "Mommy want to hold Shirt?", I figured it out.

So, today's question was actually a direction. One that asked me to vacate the premises so that they could play on top of the table.

I never thought the day would come.

Now I can catch up on those long blog posts.

Right after I stop crying.

While they dance on the table.

Elements of My Style

After a few months of blogging, I've realized a few things about my style. I tend to have two kinds of posts: long, narrative pieces intended mainly for faraway family and friends who want detailed kiddo updates and shorter, (hopefully) comic pieces that tickle my funny bone and (hopefully) that of any other reader. Recently, there have been a lot of the former, not as many of the latter. This is mainly because all of the funny things have happened during larger events, i.e. Day out with Thomas (where do you put the capitals in that, anyway?), and are thus embedded in those stories. But these long ones take me longer to write and, as there have been a lot recently, I am woefully behind. Meanwhile, I'm forgetting the cute, random things that happen everyday that would otherwise make it in a post.

By the way, writing for an audience that isn't the casual recipient of a late-night email, has made me very aware of grammar and spelling. I don't spell check because usually I'm pretty good (as well as an accurate typist), but I do have a habit of substituting homynyms--like warn for worn and the like--mainly because I say my sentences outloud in my head as I type. Besides, spell check wouldn't pick that up anyway. And grammar. I pride myself on being a decent grammarian, and even understanding the rules (thanks to years of Latin and Greek, and a lot less French and German). I sometimes intentionally break the rules--I like dashes and fragments. But I find that I am increasingly flummoxed by the placement of commas, at times (especially near quotes, or lists of quotes). And way too lazy to check grammargrrl.com for the rule. I am partial to the comma. And still a firm adherent to the old rule that commas go after ever item in a list, including the one before "and." I'll never forget the example my teacher used. It was about a will. The will left money to "Albus, Hermione and Morgan." Which meant Albus got half and Hermione and Morgan split the other half. If the will had read, "Albus, Hermione, and Morgan," they would've split it equally. Right. Nowadays, apparently, Hermione and Morgan would be much happier.

You should know, I believe, in storytelling anyway, that truth is relative and hyperbole is important. Poetic license is my guiding principal. DP knows this applies to everything. I naturally exaggerate by about 25%. Ask me how many people were in line in front of me at the grocery store or how many time DD dropped her Shirt in the car, and I will increase the number almost exponentially. Without even thinking about it. I think it's a Lone Star State storytelling characteristic--everything is bigger and better.

Oh, and I love titles. Usually, I think of the title before I even write the post. Like today.

Okay, enough deconstruction, back to writing my long post on our trip into the city to see Laurie Berkner.

Connecticut Yankees in Sir Topham Hatt's Court

We had a hurricane on Saturday, the day we had bought tickets months ago to spend a Day out with Thomas. And despite the dismal weather, we went to Essex and had a wonderful time. Good yankees (even transplants like myself) aren't deterred by a little rain and 45 mph winds. Besides, it made it all more British. I mean, who expects perfect, sunny weather on the oh-so-Anglo Isle of Sodor? And our kiddos don't notice weather anyway.

Which is good, because it started to spit as we arrived in eastern CT. As a sign of good things to come, however, we got one of the last parking spots in the closest lot. From there, we entered the festival grounds and almost immediately saw Thomas the Tank Engine pulling in a passenger train. DD and DS were beside themselves--it was Big Thomas! And they were going to ride on him!

But first, they wanted to ride all the kiddie rides. Carousel, first. Up and down, around and around--their favorite ride at the zoos. Then they spotted the little train. Which parents aren't allowed to ride. Hmmm, two year olds alone on a questionable mechanical ride. But you have to let go sometime, and they seemed so determined as they climbed into the train car themselves and sat on the same side but not too close to one another. Stoically, they rode around on the jerky, miniature train, smiling each time they saw us wave. Our little kids were all grown up. And wanted to ride again. DS headed straight to the engine--he didn't even exit and re-enter, but luckily there was no line--and sat right now with the bell pull within reach. Sis sat across from him and they drove the train. And then moved on to the fire trucks, on which they were the only kids not crying like the visitors to Santa in A Christmas Story.

As the downpour picked up we headed to the Thomas shop. While not thrilled with the commercialism (or burgeoning brand loyalty), we perused the offerings and chose two little trains for our wooden track. A Thomas for DS and a purple train named Rosie for DD (her choice, because of the purple, no doubt. Though, when asked, she says her favorite color is green). And we loved watching the model train at the back of the shop. ImaginationStation downstairs was equally enthralling, with toy train sets and coloring sheets and free tattoos. Oddly, the kiddos, especially DD, were really excited about Sir Topham Hatt (though she calls him Sir Captain Hat). See, we don't really watch Thomas and Friends, they just like trains. So, I can't imagine how they really have any grasp of who the man in the morning suit is. But DD wanted to see him, though not enough to stand in line, and so we took her back over and over.

It was our ticket time to ride Thomas. "All Aboard," the conductor called. And we gleefully climbed aboard our passenger car. Sitting in facing seats, the kids jubilantly waved out the window at anyone, and most of them waved back. Soon the train pulled out of the station and we were on our way. I'll hand it to the organizers, the little stories they told during the trip made sense of why Thomas was in back of the train and then why we later reversed direction. There were also stories about being good. None of which my kiddos paid any attention to. They were driving their own Thomas and Rosie up and down the window ledges and across the seats, then drawing pictures in the condensation of the glass. DP draws a mean tank engine and several kids in nearby seats watched. The ride was just long enough that we enjoyed it but didn't get bored. We disembarked and waved goodbye to Thomas, soon heading to lunch in a nearby restaurant and home.

The epilogue of my story wraps up our very British day: we had a tea party at home. Using her pink and green tin tea set, DD served tea to myself and her brother, repeatedly. She'd pour the tea, we'd drink, she'd take the cups and pour again. Over and over. We added the milk bottle from the baby set because I like milk in my tea. There were even slices of cake, from the birthday cake set, and we ate those on pretty little plates, singing "Happy Birthday" for each of us, a few times. And when I told her how much I liked her tea, DD hopped up, grabbed a post it and crayon, and wrote out the recipe for me.

All in all, a marvelous day.

Out of the Mouths of Babes, III

DD likes to play with her food. Sometimes, she uses banana peels as ladders from the table to her plate so the other food can "walk" up and down. Often, she identifies objects in the food she eats--that's a train, that's a car. I'm hoping she'll find a Mary or Jesus so I can sell it on eBay and send them both to college. And today she was making families out of vegetables.

"This is Mommy Carrot. This is Baby Carrot, next to Mama Carrot. Daddy Carrot is way over there, hiding in the peas."

Every Dog Has Her Day

I felt like Super Mommy today, offering lots of interesting experiences and surviving all the ups and downs with great patience. I should've asked to borrow my friend J's Halloween costume complete with cape! We had a grand day. Mostly. But I'm going to skip those bad bits since I'm writing this blog. The truth is all relative, of course. And if I'm a superhero, this is my mythology.

First off, we skipped storytime because the kids wanted to stay home to play. Considering we're going to be out all weekend, and have traveled a lot recently, I thought this was fine.

We lined up the little chairs and played train. Numerous times we bounced our way along--DD said we were going to a party--and then "de-trained" with our bags of party supplies, food and musical instruments. We did our exercises. Listened to Zydeco, our favorite type of music right now, the Laurie Berkner concert notwithstanding. Watched a few of our favorite Dora the Explorer and Thomas the Train episodes. Ate green grapes (hooray!), bananas (BA-NA-NAS!), and corn chips (yay!). And two whole bags of mixed vegetables. Full of snacks and lunch, we headed to the grocery store where we rode in the special car cart and searched for items on my list.

AND WE NAPPED IN THE CAR FOR AN HOUR!!!!

We even went for a walk, which is a recent addition to our schedules. We used to ride in the wagon but haven't done much walking outside recently because the kiddos haven't been sticking together well. So, we've been practicing walking in the neighborhood, picking up leaves and looking around. Today we even ran into a neighbor and went inside for a bit to visit her family. DD was scared of the big English Mastiff but liked sitting in the daughter's wheelchair (at her invitation). When it came time for DS's turn, DD insisted that he buckle up "so he can be safe" (guess what tv show that's from.). Afterwards, we played in our backyard. They like playing pirate ship from the playset with the new "spotting scope" and steering wheel my folks installed. DD spots dolphins orcas, and the like, while DS drives. Then they colored the deck with chalk

But the best part was art in the afternoon. DD spent a long time painting. She did 10-12 sheets of paper, carefully narrating what she was painting. My favorite was what I will call the transportation painting. She started with two colorful blobs, a yellow one for the train and a brown one for the boat. The she added lines--the way to church, the way to Target, the way to school. There were also lines for the sky and then blobs for clouds. I was amazed. And luckily it was the one painting on the last sheet of good watercolor paper.

To finish our arts and crafts time, we made the bathtub crayons that were featured in the recent Parent and Child. After much coaching not to eat the ingredients (I had made the mistake of calling it a recipe). we stirred pink, yellow, green, and blue paste and poured it into an egg carton to harden. We won't know for a few days if it works, but until then, I'll polish my Super Mommy crown.

-=-=-=-=-

Bathtub Crayons

1 cup gentle soap powder (I used Ivory Flakes)
4-6 drops food coloring
2-3 teaspoons water

Stir until you have a pasty consistency. Spoon the mixture into an ice cube tray (we used an old egg carton; I've also read that people use toilet paper rolls) and let it dry for about four days in a sunny spot. Use in the tub.

Parent and Child

Holiday Withdrawl

It's my first experience not liking a holiday.

Mind you, I loved Halloween this year. On Halloween.

But for two days now, I've soothed tears cried because Mr. Dave's pumpkins and ghosts aren't decorating his yard, attempted to explain that we won't be going trick-or-treating dressed as jaguars again tonight, and denied the consumption of candy at every meal and snack and in between. It's been rough going. Particularly because every time they see the pictures from the evening, they want to start it all over again.

And who can blame them.

Especially because Thanksgiving just doesn't promise to be as interesting.

A Family that Exercises Together . . .

What is it about a mommy on the floor that is an irresistible draw to toddlers and cats?

I've been trying to do the new exercises my PT gave me yesterday and everytime I start a clamshell or the like, I find an extra 27 lbs on my legs and fur in my face. While resistance training (is that even a concept?) is great for tip-top shape athletes, I'm sure, it isn't quite what my therapist ordered. Besides, it's not like I never sit cross-legged on the floor playing trains or animal farm, or throwing foily balls and catnip mice, but there is something about the supine position that is just too much fun.

You should see how excited everyone gets when I pull out my stretchy band!

At least they're getting excited about exercising, right?

Halloween, Part 2-Got Candy?

It's a good thing we took the kiddos for their first trip to the dentist yesterday because today we ate more candy than they've had in a lifetime. More on the dentist some other time because it seems somehow inappropriate to talk positively about a profession that deems raisins too chewy and sweet on a day devoted to the consumption of much more indulgent treats.

And indulge we did. Starting at about 8:45 this morning. After testing the sweet potato bars I made for the playgroup party this morning, we kicked off the holiday with lollipops on the way to the party. Now, I want to begin this by saying we have tried to raise DD and DS in as gender neutral a way as possible, all things considered. They didn't really wear pink and blue as babes and we have all sorts of toys generally associated with each gender. We even go so far sometimes as to reverse it. That's not to say we're going to be gender-blind but we are trying to be as sensitive and stereotype free as possible. That said, DD thinks only she should have pink things and DS should have blue. This color specificity has reared its ugly head with pajamas, snack cups, and now lollipops. Because the mystery lollipop in the reddish-pink wrapper she choose today turned out to be blue. And DS had a pink one. She cried for a switch all the way to the party, eventually tossing her blue one into the nether regions of the minivan. DS was content with his and finished it before we arrived.

The party itself was a delight, with all of our little friends cheerfully arrayed in a variety of costumes. Ours were pretty much the only ones homemade. And pretty much the only ones that didn't get warned. Is that just a coincidence?

This evening was the culmination of the festivities--four parties later and it was actually Halloween! We had eaten candy all over the county, worn and not worn our costumes on several occasions, and practiced "trick or treat" and "thank you" ad infinitum. DD, warming my own heart, was eager to get dressed and go get candy, while brother took an extra 20 minutes to eat his taco dinner. While we waited for DS to finish up, DD insisted I wear my own costume as a witch (actually a Hogwarts professor, complete with my own knitted Gryffindor scarf, but few people caught on) so I donned my undergraduate graduation robes and a pointy hat. Eventually, off we went.

It only took one house for DD to have a complete grasp of the Halloween concept. She rushed up to the highly decorated door of our neighbor's house and jubilantly called "trick or treat" long before they made it to the storm door. She also proudly announced at this, and all the other houses, "we're jaguars!" Usually before being asked. Which worked fine for me--guesses such as chocolate chip cookie and puppy dog and lion were starting to demoralize me (since it was my costume design and execution).

Indeed, so well did she understand her role in the fulfillment of the holiday ritual that she was a bit dismayed when the children in the second house ran out to meet her with candy before she could say her lines. She took it anyway, though. Of course.

And where was DS in all of this? Well, he shone at the next house, on the step of our friend G. Her kids were gathering with the rest of the neighborhood gang, which we were fortuitously in time to join, and she sat on the steps with a big bowl of candy. DS siddled up to her and began to reach for the lollipop sticking out. And then he saw another and another, which he kept putting in the bag. Much to my horror. DP encouraged me to hold my tongue (after I had apologized several times and even put some of the pops back) as he literally sat down next to G, who found this hysterically funny, and began stealthily grabbing each white stick he could find. And what good eyes he has! We'd think he'd gotten them all and he'd extract another one, something like an expert player in that game with those really thin rods built into a towering pile (pick up sticks?). And he was so quiet, trying not to attract any attention. Other kids came and went but DS sat there unfazed, gathering the little lollipops unto himself. Maybe he should've been Swiper!

DD was in her element too. She got her pieces of candy, preferring the white boxes of the Junior Mints, and then checked on the other kids, "you got candy?" And she'd pass out G's, and later other people's, candy to those around her, peering into their bags to make sure everything was copacetic. She finally tired of this and rushed ahead to the next house to get more candy. It was only because she was smaller than the others and not as surefooted on steps that she wasn't the first to the door everytime.

I thought it was wonderful that our kiddos hooked up with the big group and trick or treated as a gang, even posing for pictures on the steps of one house. It reminded me of my own childhood Halloweens with all our neighborhood friends. The mild weather (at about 68F) was even the same, even if the fall colored leaves and architecture were completely different. It's a prime example of why we moved to the burbs and wanted to raise children here. I should say, though, that in my child's mind we would walk for hours and miles getting tons of candy. While my kids were the youngest and therefore turned back early tonight, the older kids still didn't get "all the way" to my house down the block, too worn out by it all. So we have lots of candy I don't like leftover. But all the playdough I bought is gone, having been extremely popular with both the toddler and teenage set.

So, we did head home early, with DD twirling her jaguar ears around as a magic wand and DS stopping by G's house to get some more lollipops. We spent the rest of the holiday on the porch with the candy spread all over the (now sticky) exercise trampoline, talking to grandparents, aunts and uncles, and hopping up every now and then to pass out candy to the visitors to our own house. DD sampled every bit of candy they got (while we quickly weeded out the ones she couldn't try, like the ones with peanuts. And our own personal favorites.) She tried Dots and Starburts, Kit Kats and M&Ms, skittles and tootsie rolls, usually taking a small bite and then putting the rest back on the trampoline. There were little colored candies everywhere. She even fed me, passing along an M&M or Skittle between her own samples. But DD was the funny one: he unwrapped every single last lollipop from G's, took various licks, often held 3 or 4 in his hands at once, and then piled them up for safe-keeping. By bath time, they'd found their way into the front of the miniature Good Humor ice cream truck scooter we have.

And despite the sugar high, the babes are in bed and DP herself snores next to me. Our black cats are safe in their room, having celebrated what we consider the official holiday of black cats everywhere with their own big bowl of wet can food. All is well.

Now if I just had one of DS's lollipops . . .

Out of the Mouths of Babes, II

Setting: our minivan in the driveway
Action: DS climbing into the front seat to "drive" despite strict instructions to get in his car seat
Mommy: "You are in trouble."
DD (sitting admirably and enviously in her car seat): "I want to be in trouble."

Out of the Mouths of Babes

This from DD on the monitor, the red lights of which indicate that no sleeping is happening (or has been in the 20+ minutes of singing and playing and reading; there was a long debate about which nursery rhyme to sing):

"I might be tired? We might be tired? I am very tired. I need my pillow."

Then after much exchanging of pillows and stuffed animals, DS asserts, "Mommy, I'm awake."

Not DD: "I'm not awake."

Segregation

Well, my daughter is pro-segregation. She absolutely cannot abide by different foods co-mingling on a plate, heaven forbid touching. It's gotten to the point that if we have more than one thing for dinner--in courses (because my timing is usually off and veggies take longer than I ever remember)--she wants a new plate. Now, I can't imagine where this got started. I think it's developmental. I definitely remember not liking my food to touch or putting more than one type of food on a utensil at the same time (the exception being gravy for that purpose)--and I must have been old enough to remember. I definitely remember my father saying, "it all goes to the same place." Not the point, as I recall. So, I'm not annoyed by this new habit just curious.

My dear son couldn't care less. In fact, he seems to go out of his way to mix foods--dipping anything in whatever sauce or condiment is on his plate. This morning for snack (we're testing dairy), he dipped string cheese in vanilla yogurt. This afternoon, after hot dogs, it was carrots and grapes in the leftover ketchup.

Good thing DD doesn't really watch him eat. She'd have an apoplectic fit.

And truthfully, I'm not sure I'd blame her at all.

At least she didn't see him dip the animal cookies in ketchup!

The Body Electric

(I think the title of this post dates me. Who out there is singing Irene Cara now? And, yes, I know, it's really Whitman.)

I had a revelation about my body today. Several, actually. It was my first physical therapy appointment. Ever. Since the babes, I've had abdominal and back aches, no doubt due to the various surgeries (2 hernia repairs, c-section with ovarectomy) and, well, carrying and carying for babes. It's been worse since Memorial Day, when I threw out my back while, get this, sitting down.

And today I found out why.

I had thought it was a weight problem. And of course it is, but I've lost more than 50 lbs (if you count from the moment before the babes were born), more like 35 of non-baby weight and I've felt worse than I did at my highest (even my highest pregnant) weight.

Turns out that losing some weight complicated all the muscles issues I'm having. In fact, losing the weight meant losing some of the support that was keeping my muscles from hurting. I have a diastasis, which means my abdominal wall is split down the middle at the linea alba. Mine is three fingers in width! Wow. This of course can cause more hernias. But it also adds to the weakness of all the other abdominal muscles. And my back.

But it also turns out that I am what you call hyper-flexible. Which means I can, with no warm up stretches or anything, lay my hands flat on the floor from a standing position, and other various loose muscle tricks. This is great for gymnasts and such, but not good when your muscles are weak and you have other issues. So, I'm a loose rubber band, with no real muscles to hold everything together.

Also my hips are not aligned properly. One is higher than the other, and not just in the way everyone is uneven. So, all that waddling that I've always done (so much for corrective shoes and walking around the backyard "heel-toe") that people think is a sore foot or a limp, is just the uneveness of it all. Which in turn leads to back trouble.

All in all, I need help and my PT can help me. And it doesn't sound like it will take too long to see some results. Though, I must say, even doing the two pretty minor exercises she gave me today has made me stiff and sore.

But I'm thrilled. It's like realizing I was a lesbian way back when and then watching all the disjointed pieces of my earlier life fall into place. Suddenly, body issues that go back decades suddenly make sense, have an explanation. And, in many ways, it is not my fault. Which is a huge relief. I don't waddle because I'm lazy but because I'm crooked. Fine. Great, even! No wonder I suck at P.E. No wonder I had so much ligament pain on my left side during my pregnancy. And how cool is it to be hyperflexible?! When I get this whole thing straightened out, I'm going to do more yoga!

And in the end, it's wonderful just knowing why.

"I sing the body electric. I celebrate the me yet to come."

Halloween, Part 1

We've already had two Halloween parties--DP's office bash and our annual church potluck. The kiddos are really getting into trick or treating this year. DD especially understands the concept. She particularly understands that she has two hands so don't just give her one piece of candy. She also knows that she is not limited by the number of pieces she can hold in her two hands--this is why she has a bag--so don't try to give her just two pieces. Nope, she'll stand there saying "candy" until satisfied that's she's been treated.

Now mind you, we practiced. The kiddo says "trick or treat," and then the adult gives them something (we practiced with cat toys, socks, Fisher Price animals, whatever was on the floor nearby). Then they say "thank you." DD never got this part; she would say "trick or treat" again. Go figure.

They can't have most of the candy being distributed. It either has questionable ingredients or is a choking hazard. But that doesn't seem to matter. They don't actually care if they eat them. DS would choose the "brown" ones, even though he's never had chocolate; apparently, brown wrappers just caught his fancy. As I mentioned, DD is just interested in quantity. The exception to the rule is lollipops. Both are crazy about lollipops. Any Dum-dum will do. DS tried a Tootsie pop but he kept biting off pieces and handing them to me. DD just likes to hold the things and wave them like scepters; I'm not sure she actually tastes them.

The other questionable aspect of Halloween is the costume. Now, when they were just three months old or so, we dressed them in romper costumes--a pumpkin for DS and a black cat for DD, straight off Target's shelves--and we were good to go (though we didn't actually trick or treat, that being way past our bedtime). The second year, I had the crazy idea that they should be gnomes. With hats. Somehow I missed the cardinal rule that kids don't like to wear things on their heads (unless singing a Laurie Berkner song, A Pig on Her Head, and then it's great fun). And the key to the gnome costumes were the green and red felt-covered birthday hats. Otherwise, the little cream shirts with brown belts didn't make much sense. Why a gnome? We'd spent the summer enjoying our garden gnome and our book about gnomes. And the kids were short and cute and a pair, so why not a pair of garden gnomes? Oh, well. We didn't even get a good picture. But I still have those hats here somewhere.

About a month ago, they decided that they wanted to be jaguars. As in Mama and Baby Jaguar from, you guessed it, Diego. I waited until about a week ago to start the costumes in case they changed their minds, but they didn't. DS was going to be Mama Jaguar. DD was Baby. I don't know how they decided--and it seems backwards to me--but it is set in stone. And I was supposed to be Rescue Pack. A tan terrycloth towel, some felt spots, and a headband with ears and yarn made the costume. Easy, peasy, stinky. The glue gives off this toxic smell.

Which doesn't really matter. Because they don't wear the costumes long enough. And the only time they have, they did it without the ears and everyone thought they were chocolate chip cookies.

Does that make me the Cookie Monster?

Chicago Highlights

Today, DD played a game. She lined up her baby stroller, complete with baby, in front of an empty cardboard box, which she then crawled inside. She placed her backpack full of fake food behind her and proceeded to read her Dora books. When DP asked what she was doing, she was flying. Yep, flying to Chicago.

Three weeks out and both kiddos still talk about the trip almost daily. Sometimes, they talk about the flight and the big airplane they rode on; sometimes we remember our friend "Mike-yine" and her cats and Miss Karen's drums. We read our Good Night, Chicago book a lot and talk about seeing the train in the garden. Then there are the dinosaurs at the Field and the lions outside the Art Institute. And the Bean.

And these are just the things they talk about. But there were also several great meals--lots of Chicago hot dogs and Middle Eastern food (DD inhaled her first kebab). DP and I managed some Italian beef sandwiches (wet and sweet for me; wet and hot for her. It's a Chicago thing) when the kids fell asleep in the car (that's where all the naps happened.) And one mediocre but memorable meal at the Rainforest Cafe with another good friend and lots of animatronic animals.

The Field had a marvelous new playlab, with arts and crafts and costumes, drums and corn harvesting activity which we enjoyed with our friend "Miss Diane." They also loved the stuffed animals and dinosaurs. The Botanical Gardens, up a very familiar drive through Evanston towards Glencoe, had a G-, or garden, scale train with miniature landmarks, including several Frank Lloyd Wright buildings, made out of twigs. DS especially loved the Thomas train, while DD was fascinated by the train with pigs that passed by the schoolyard. The Art Institute was probably the most disappointing, if mainly because it was the most anticipated by me--the marvelous Kraft Education Center and family exhibition space downstairs has been mostly reclaimed for storage because so many of the treasures of the museum are down while the new modern wing is being built. So, there was nowhere for the kids to play, really, being too short to see the Thorne Room miniatures well, while I viewed my favorite galleries. Which worked out fine because so much of the art I liked was off view anyway. Including all the armor and most of the pre-19th century works.

But, I did walk my children through their first real art museum, which was a highlight. DD and I examined Caillebotte's Paris Street, Rainy Day and talked about umbrellas. DS liked Monet's train painting and Renoir's image of a lady at a piano. Neither really liked Shukongo-Jin, the Japanese guardian figure (too scary) but did like the T'ang funerary ceramics, especially the lady on the horse. It was one of the hardest tours I've ever given! The first of many, I hope.

In addition to the first art museum and first kebab, there was our first real train ride, on the "el." We did the Loop, which both fascinated and frightened the kiddos. DS's mouth was agape the whole time. And DD insisted she sit in the seat, too unnerved by the swaying to stand up and look out the window. Until she did get up and then stood holding onto the pole just like any other pro. DP and I had to laugh, who would've thought that we would ever take the el for fun? Or with our own kids? Certainly not something we thought about during all those commutes.

We also took them to our old stomping grounds, which have been quite gentrified since we moved. But the good ol' lesbian/feminist bookstore Women and Children First is still there, though it now carries--gasp--male authors. The kiddos banged on the little piano and pulled numerous chapter books off the shelves while DP roamed the lesbian fiction and women's history sections and I searched for LGBT-friendly children's books. We came away with several, including the classic Heather Has Two Mommies.

Of course, the purpose of our trip was to visit our friends, and so the best parts were the conversations we all had, with the kiddos providing lighthearted distractions from the realities of breast cancer. Even if they don't know why we went, I think they will long remember our trip and our friends.

Good night, Chicago.

Cinco de October

It's a few days late, but I went to a wonderful, much-needed moms' night out (MNO) on Friday. The theme was Mexican, a belated Cinco de Mayo. There was wonderful dip--the cream cheese/bean/cheese/salsa mixture that I've only encountered in Connecticut (at every party I've hosted someone has brought it. Now, I thought I knew all of the Tex-Mex appetizers, having grown up in TX, but this cream cheese one is new to me. BTW, if you want a great article on Tex Mex, and how it is "native foreign food" and not real Mexican--duh--check out the recent NYTimes). Then we moved onto dinner, which featured this delicious chili including chipotle chilies in adobo sauce--this gave it this smokiness that I liked. Oddly, I recently came across a recipe featuring said ingredient and had never heard of it before. DP will like it, I'm sure. Our hostess--for hers was the chili (served with rice and FRITOS!)--then served vegetable burritos, made especially tasty by a tomato puree/cream sauce. We finished off the meal with the "Mexican" dessert coffee I brought. While I had to prep and cook some of it there (a big no-no for guests, I know), I think it turned out well. There were also tasty peanut butter-chocolate squares and brownies with ice cream. So, sure, not completely authentic, but delicioso all the same. And the company was good.

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Conn-Mex Party Dip

It is so easy- Spread the medium size tub of cream cheese on the bottom of a pie plate (we like Temptees brand) then spread a layer of either mild salsa OR a can of Hormel chili with beans (which ever suits your fancy) Finally sprinkle the top with Mexican shredded four cheese and bake 350 degrees until bubbly (about 25-30 min.). Serves with tortilla chips.

Mexican Dessert Coffee

1/4 cup ground dark roast coffee (regular or decaf)
2 teaspoons cinnamon
6 cup water
1 cup milk
1/3 cup chocolate syrup (I used Hershey's Dark)
2 tablespoon light brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
whipped cream optional

Place coffee and cinnamon in filter basket of coffeemaker. Add water and brew as directed.In saucepan, blend milk, chocolate syrup, and sugar. Stir over low heat until sugar dissolves.Combine milk mixture and brewed coffee; stir in vanilla. Garnish with whipped cream and cinnamon. Serve.

(By the way, my mom friends laughed when they saw "serve" written at the bottom of my notes. Sure. Apparently, Judith Jones thinks "set aside" is the silliest recipe instruction. I think "serve" might be.).

What's the Magic Word?

Jessica Seinfeld would be proud. In our house, the magic word is "zucchini."

I'm not exactly sure how it all started, really. We were building a castle with couch cushions on a summer day so hot that we were taking refuge in the air conditioning. I put cushion gates up and then kept asking the kids, who were stocking said castle with necessities--food and musical instruments--what the magic password was. And at some point, "zucchini" was suggested. Let it be known that DD suggested it. DS wanted "avocado." I teased them for a bit with "broccoli" but "zucchini" won out. And they thought that was hilarious. So they kept running up to the gate, beaming excitedly, and yelling out, "ZUC-CHI-NI!"

Now, it turns out, that "zucchini" is our magic word for everything. If you are trying to get them to say please by asking "what's the magic word?", you aren't going to get what you expect. If we're posing for a picture, it's not "cheese" on everyone's lips. And if you need a gate opened or a chinny-chin-chin house protected from the huffy-puffy big bad wolf, your answer is a vegetable.

And we've noticed that consumption of said vegetable has actually increased. This summer I made Summer Squash Soup and they both determinedly ate the green ones before the yellow ones. Same thing earlier this week when we were eating steamed vegetables at Longhorn Steakhouse with my folks. I think we might actually have to see about planting some next spring.

But what brings me to this today is naptime. As I've mentioned, we aren't napping very well now that we sleep in toddler beds. For the last few weeks, with Chicago and my parents visiting, we've done most of our napping in the car. But today was back to "normal." I knew it wasn't going well when they started discussing books, which meant they were no doubt both out of their beds perusing the bookshelves (which would normally make a parent proud, but not during naptime). They ended up stuffing all the thin books underneath the door, which they can no longer open since DP installed those babyproof handles this weekend (It's almost people-proof. All my art group guests today had trouble opening the door to the downstairs bathroom!).

And then I heard it, right after pleas for mommy to come open the door could be heard over the rattle of the new plastic handle cover. DD sang out the password, "Zucchini," hoping the door would magically open.

DS chimed in, "ZUCCHINI!"

And what do you know? It's magic.

Bubbles of Summer

Just as the so-called "boys of summer" are only just now starting the World Series, so I am only now able to pass along the recipe for bubbles that made summer joyful.

Our second birthday party this summer was bubble themed, inspired by our favorite bubble playspace at Stepping Stones Museum in Norwalk. I had baby pools filled with (admittedly store-bought) bubbles and staffed with bubble wands of all shapes and sizes. There was also a bubble machine blowing magic across the party constantly. I had hoped to have a hula hoop to dip in bubble solution and then pull up over guests standing on a stool in the middle but I never worked out all the mechanics. The hula hoop sits in the garage waiting for another use.

Though it was hot for the party, only one kid took a swim in the bubbles. And boy, did he have fun!

So, even though fall is supposed to be upon us, here's a recipe for bubbles to save for some sunny day next year.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bubble Solution

1/2 cup dishwashing solution
1-2 tablespoons glycerin (available at pharmacies) or corn syrup (but this attracts bugs)
6 cups water

Mix together, age overnight, and have fun!

Think Pink

It's Breast Cancer Awareness month--have you done your self-exam? Do you need to schedule your annual mammogram? Mine is in 2 weeks, the beginning of November, which means I won't get any of the pink goodies I know they pass out at this time of year.

That's okay though, I have a pink bracelet which I wear for our friend whom we visited in Chicago. She has breast cancer, and now bone cancer too.

So do your BSE and, if necessary, get that mammogram and remind someone you love to do the same.

I'm Always Chasing . . . Ice Cream

One of my parents' favorite things to eat here in Connecticut is Rich Farm's ice cream. Served from a shack in an idyllic pastoral setting, complete with corn rows and cow smell, this ice cream is frozen heaven. I don't even want to know the butterfat content; it's so rich and creamy.

The babes were asleep on the ride home from the Bronx Zoo on Saturday and we decided to make the swazu for ice cream. We stopped by the house to pick up the Rice Dream vanilla "ice cream" that I had purchased just for this purpose and headed off for our own grown-up treat with the kids still miraculously asleep.

The sky was darkening and we hoped that our ice cream run wouldn't be rained out. Though we would certainly have braved a torrential downpour for caramel apple, sweet cream, toasted almond, pumpkin and the like, we didn't know if they closed the outdoor set up if it rained.

And there before us, in the quirky dark/bright dichotomy of a rainstorm in the afternoon, with the fall trees glowing in the contrast, a rainbow appeared. And not just any rainbow, but a full double-bowed arch. End to end, all the colors, twice. I've only seen one other pair of rainbows like it, on a similar stormy afternoon during a drive to a childhood friend's house. It was beautiful.

DS awoke about that time and marveled with us at the colors in the sky as we sang the rainbow songs we could think of. Unfortunately, DD missed it completely, so asleep was she.

But she awoke in time for the ice cream, enjoying two whole bowls to her brother's three, while the four adults put away 7 1/2 scoops between us.

And we all felt the rainbow was a sign that this ice cream was divine.

A Mouse in the Restaurant

We do things in threes in our household. Mainly because Dora does. If you've ever watched Dora the Explorer, you'll see that her itineraries always come in threes-check the Map--you know, the place where you go when you need to ask for help. The kiddos seemed to remember the trip trios from her show so we started organizing our days tripartite-ly.

Today was "Meeting. Library. Restaurant." Easy. Though, DD kept switching the last two, mainly because she is always hungry. So we went to my Weight Watchers meeting weigh-in, which wasn't bad considering 4 days in Chicago, and then headed to meet friends at our storytime program. Which, coincidentally, had the theme of three today--three bears, three pigs, three kittens.

Afterwards, we went for lunch. And while we were there, DS became obsessed with a clock, complete with pendulum, on the nearby wall.

"Hickory Dickory Clock," he kept saying. "Hickory Dickory Clock."

And then he started asking about when it was going to chime.

"Mouse? Mouse?" Of course, where was the mouse. Now, all this seemed fine and dandy to me but the people at the next table only caught the last bit and looked concerned. So I explained to DS rather loudly that the clock wasn't quite about to chime so there was no mouse but we could sing the song.

Which one of the passing workers heard and thought was cute. So, then DS asked her where the mouse was and she replied, without missing a beat, "it's his day off."

She who Laughs, Lasts

Our trip to Chicago last week started so well in the beginning. The idea of flying excited the kiddos, who were cooperative and good-natured for the drive to the airport, the security check (they think it's funny to take off their shoes), the wait for boarding, and even the take off. Even when the flight attendant got on the microphone with tears in her eyes and a choke in her voice and the pilot announced that we were making an unscheduled landing in Albany because of a problem with an engine (read: the engine was smoking with burning oil and they had to turn it off), even when fire trucks dotted the runway and the airport was in emergency mode, the kids were fine. They like the lollipops we give them for their ears at takeoff; they like all the one on one time with a mom; they like the little houses and little cars and huge clouds. And so, when we made that emergency landing, DD yelled out "We're in Chicago!", perfectly thrilled with our little adventure. We chuckled to ourselves in irony, noticing that no one else laughed.

It was no laughing matter. We spent almost the whole day in Albany, a perfectly nice small airport. We ate all of their allergy-friendly food in the first hours and eventually gave up and started feeding the kids happy meals. We bought several sets of cars and airplanes to play in the hallway. We chatted with other passengers, particularly the Notre Dame fans who were quickly drinking themselves into merriment. We even bought souvenirs to remind us of the experience. And we waited through the rumors--they would drive us all in a bus to NYC to fly us out that night! They would drive us all in a bus back to Hartford and we could fly out in a few days! They would bring in another plane and take us all to Chicago! We decided we wouldn't go to NYC and would only head back to Hartford in a rental car after spending the night in Albany to break up the travel. DP, who had noticed the smoke and the engine shut off, thought we were crazy to get on another plane. I just wanted to get to Chicago to see our friends. And through it all, the kids barely noticed that Albany wasn't Chicago and that we weren't exactly where we wanted to be.

In fact, when they finally boarded us on a flight to Chicago late that afternoon, DD thought we had finished our outing for the day and were going home.

And then she cried on the plane all the way to Chicago.

And so did her brother.

I say Tomato . . .

So much has happened in the space of silence on my blog this last week. I'm not sure I'll ever catch up. We went to Chicago over the weekend to see some dear friends and had a wonderful time. I'll get back to all the yummy food and great times we had soon. And now my folks are in town for an extended visit so there will be lots to write about that too.

But today was just one more clear example that my son has genes that don't originate with me: he eats raw cherry tomatoes. He inhales them. He probably had 40 for lunch.

He even dips them in ketchup!

Everything's Better with Apple Butter on It

Have I mentioned that my kiddos are addicted to bread and jam? Sometimes it is very Dickensian here, "Mummy, please more hot bread. With butter." Not real butter, but natural apple butter. It's very specific--they like the bread--it's brown rice bread from the freezer section of the natural food store--hot from the microwave (it is better that way) with the crusts cut off. DD likes her bread with the apple butter on it, and apricot jam on the side. DS likes his bread with both the apricot jam (or jelly, though officially it's Polaner all-fruit preserves) and the apple butter on the side. Though, this changes morning to morning.

Okay, I know--apple butter AND apricot jam? Well, it started that one liked one, and the other liked the other. Then there was some cross-pollination and now they both like a little of both. I am careful that the spread to bread ratio favors the bread.

And sometimes the bread is in squares, and sometimes I am asked to cut them into "sticks." Recently, DD has been biting hers into train shapes.

Anyway, the other day, once all the bread, butter, and jam was distributed, I cautioned them that the bread was still hot. I think DD thought the bread had a boo-boo. Using a phrase we use when someone gets a boo-boo, DD said"Butter will make it all better" and smeared some apple butter on it.

And then he ate the whole thing in 3 bites

You are What You Eat, Part Two

We went to the local Mexican food place today after church, encouraging the kids with stories about how Dora and Diego ate fajitas and tortillas. We encouraged DD and DS to say "hola" and "gracias" to the servers, just like their favorite explorer and animal rescuer respectively. And when the food came we said it was "caliente." Which was the opposite--a word that was the focus of a recent storytime--of "frio."

And what did DD say? "I'm a frito."

Maybe she did eat some frito chili pie the other night . . .

Frito Chili Pie

It's late here and, while I have been rehearsing in my head my post on "white trash food" and this title would seem to be heralding such a post, it's just going to be a short ode to Frito Chili Pie.

Now, I'm not going to engage in the constant, endless debate on what constitutes chili. I'll say, to borrow a phrase, that I know what I like. And most Texans would say what I like ain't chili. I like ground meat, not stew meat. I like it with tomatoes. I like, gasp, beans in my chili. I don't care for veggies in it, or mole. I will eat it over lots of things--crunched up saltine crackers with shredded cheddar cheese is a family tradition; over rice with lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese was called jambalaya for 12 years of public school. I have never had it over spaghetti like in Cincinnati but I'm game to try it. But the way I like best is over Fritos.

It amazes me that Frito Chili pie hasn't caught on everywhere--my mommy friends up here had never heard of it when I served it at a playgroup and kept needing instructions on what to do with the Fritos. And I didn't even serve it the traditional way, which is actually a ladleful of chili poured over the opened small pouch of Fritos. We had it at school, football games, fairgrounds, you name it. But those mommies loved it and I even got talked into hosting a second Frito Chili Pie Playgroup.

It's the ultimate social food for me, a fun food, a fall and winter food. So even though it's been summer up here in the Northeast, I made a batch of chili this week. This is cheater's chili--it only takes a bit to throw together and relies on, please don't tell a soul, a packaged mix and canned beans. But as I've confessed, I'm no Wick Fowler purist. I think I like the kind of chili we used to get at school. Over Fritos. And this is the closest I can get to it.

I will say, it was a disappointment to me that DD and DS did not see the beauty of the dish, especially because they love Fritos (can I tell you how excited I was when I found an easy-to- locate snack food they can eat?) and ground turkey. They wouldn't even try it, DD because of the beans, DS because of DD.

I'm hoping they'll come around.

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My Playgroup Frito Chili Pie

1 lb. ground beef or turkey
1 medium onion, chopped
1 can Ranch style beans (there will be an homage to these later. I literally "import" them from Houston everytime my folks come up. It's the one thing I just cannot find up here, now that the stores have Pace Picante sauce and Rotel tomatoes. If only Blue Bell ice cream travelled as well.)
1 can light kidney beans
1 can black beans
1 packet McCormick chili mix
14 oz can diced tomatoes
Fritos
shredded cheddar cheese

Brown the ground meat, draining fat. Brown onions. Add all the beans plus the packet of chili mix and tomatoes to meat and onions. Add water if necessary (I like my chili soupy, so the Fritos can absorb some). Simmer. Serve with lots of Fritos and cheese.

You are What You Eat

The babes have a new food in their repetoire--fried rice. We first had it last Saturday when DP was gone all day sailing and I wanted something different for dinner. They can have the little bit of egg in it--they are obsessed with scrambled eggs and ask for them at every meal--and we just ask for no soy sauce. And, as with the mixed veggie bags, they can pick among the rice, chicken, peas, carrots, and onions for their favorite bits.

So today, we announced that we were going to have Chinese food. And DD starts dancing around the kitchen, "Chinese food! Chinese food!" and wanting to instill in her some connection to it, perhaps some pride (though DP doesn't think much of American fried rice), I said, "yes, and you are Chinese."

And she said, "I am Chinese food."

Size Does Matter

My kids ate two whole bags of steamed vegetables today! We used to buy fresh vegetables but the kids would go on and off, say, a broccoli kick and we wouldn't eat it all and it would go bad. We didn't want to try canned veggies too much because of the high sodium, even though there are several organic varieties at our stores (we shop at two--the grocery superstore and the small health food store; everyone says to go to Trader Joe's but I'm not adding a 3rd store and they don't carry enough allergy friendly stuff to drop either other store off my list). So a friend turned me on to frozen bags of vegetables that steam in your microwave. And they even come without sauce.

So how do I get the kids to eat two big bags of veggies in one day? I choose the mixed bags--broccoli, snow peas, and carrots; broccoli and cauliflower; corn, carrots, and asparagus--and put the plate between them. They then pick out what they want--which is never the same thing--and work their way through the whole plate. Today, they even left behind their hot dogs to eat the corn and carrots (I know, I know, hot dogs are terrible. But at least they were nitrate/nitrite free turkey dogs). It's actually quite fun. I get in the game, too, setting the right vegetable-eating example--oftentimes, DD likes to choose which ones I get. I got all the small carrots. See, "big" is very important when it comes to food. DS always wants a "big one," meaning a big portion of whatever. He likes the longest asparagus, the widest carrot slices, the most cereal. She does too. Which is why I got the small carrots.

But when it comes to vegetables, bigger--and more--is better.