A week ago Friday, as the nurse practitioner wrote me my third prescription for an antibiotic to kill the strep I’ve had since Memorial Day, she asked, “do you have a lot of stress in your life?”
“I have two small children,” I answered in the affirmative.
“Get some rest,” she advised.
Perfect timing, as we were headed home to my parents. We spent last week surrounded by my family in Ohio – my parents and my two sisters and their husbands and kids. Jeremy drove us out, flew back to Chicago for work, and rejoined us Friday.
It was a week of summer vacation, through and through. Bikes and chalk littered the driveway. Sandals of various sizes and colors were piled by the garage door. Nana was generous in doling out the Popsicles, and there was always a friend to play with.
We came back Saturday night, and our condo seemed foreign to me. We had some work done to the walls and things were out of place.
I spent much of Sunday pulling our place and things back together. By Sunday night, Jeremy and I had the condo back in shape and I declared it fajita night. I used a tequila lime marinade for the chicken, inspired by my friends who had served us something similar a few days beforehand.
Tequila lime chicken
From Barefoot Contessa Family Style: Easy Ideas and Recipes That Make Everyone Feel Like Family 1/2 cup gold tequila
1 cup freshly squeezed lime juice (5 to 6 limes)
1/2 cup freshly squeezed orange juice (2 oranges)
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 tablespoon minced fresh jalapeno pepper (1 pepper seeded) (I omitted this!)
1 tablespoon minced fresh garlic (3 cloves)
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 whole (6 split) boneless chicken breasts, skin on
Combine the tequila, lime juice, orange juice, chili powder, jalapeno pepper, garlic, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Add the chicken breasts. Refrigerate overnight.
Heat a grill with coals and brush the rack with oil to prevent the chicken from sticking. Remove the chicken breasts from the marinade, sprinkle well with salt and pepper, and grill them skin-side down for about 5 minutes, until nicely browned. Turn the chicken and cook for another 10 minutes, until just cooked through. Remove from the grill to a plate. Cover tightly and allow to rest for 5 minutes. Serve hot or at room temperature.
While I'm not a fan of retro-blogging, I do have to say, we had a nice weekend from my Monday evening vantage point. This blogger has published a book, has a strong following and is thin and pretty, and I still like her. I appreciate her love of family and friends and her positive outlook on life. Anyways, she has been doing more with video on her blog and has provided a tutorial on YouTube. She, along with the new desktop computer Jeremy bought us, inspired me to make this video from our visit to the Chicago Botanic Garden Saturday afternoon with a little something added to the end. I literally followed the tutorial step-by-step; more creativity to come as I get more comfortable with my movie editing skills.
Sunday was a day to rest and be lazy for my family. We thought it might rain; it didn't. We treated the day as if it was a rainy day anyways, reading books and doing inside things. Jack got into the cozy, lazy spirit of things by wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants (while it was nearing 90 degrees outside, mind you), and Roscoe the cat is always ready for a good snooze.
Jeremy and I tried a new slow cooker recipe from this blog Sunday night.
Easy slow cooker carnitas 2 pounds pork shoulder 1/2 cup freshly squeezed orange juice (about 1 large orange)
1/4 cup freshly squeezed lime juice (about 1 large lime)
7 cloves garlic (whole intact)
1/2 tablespoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon cumin
1/2 cup beef broth
corn tortillas
sour cream, salsa, sliced avocado, limes (optional)
In a small bowl, combine the salt and cumin. Rub mixture all over the pork, then plop into the slow cooker. Add whole garlic cloves. Squeeze on the citrus, and pour the beef broth evenly over the top.
Cook on low for 8-10 hours, or until the pork shreds quite easily with a fork. If your meat is still fully intact after 8 hours, remove and cut into chunks, then return to the crock and flip to high for about an hour or two.
Shred meat fully and serve on warmed corn tortillas with desired toppings.
One of our favorite appetizers is the guacamole from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook, which went perfectly with our pork tacos.
Guacamole 4 ripe Haas avocados
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (1 lemon)
8 dashes hot pepper sauce
1/2 cup small-diced red onion (1 small onion)
1 large garlic clove, minced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 medium tomato, seeded, and small-diced
Cut the avocados in half, remove the pits, and scoop the flesh out of their shells into a large bowl. Immediately add the lemon juice, hot pepper sauce, onion, garlic, salt, and pepper and toss well. Using a hand mixer, blend avocado mix to your liking. Add the tomatoes. Mix well and taste for salt and pepper.
And for anyone who thinks I edit my life for my blog - well, okay, sometimes I do - and now I'm getting into video! Just to keep things real, here's a picture of my life taken by Jack.
Here's to slowing down to enjoy our happy, messy lives, gentle readers.
A long walk with lots of talking has always been a favorite past time of mine.
When I was six, my parents took up jogging in the summertime. My dad would get up at 6 a.m. to run; my mom would go at 7 a.m. I started jogging too, alternating days with them while my baby sisters slept. I can't remember what we talked about, but it was a special time for me, having one-on-one time with each parent.
When I was in middle school, my friend Amy and I would spend summer afternoons taking walks around my subdivision. (We were very good girls.) We would stretch our legs, gossip about our friends and talk about our families.
When I was a sophomore in college, my friends and I - a mix of girls and boys - would go running at night - 10 p.m. or later - as a study break (my, how my life has changed). We would run in the cold - skidding over ice patches - as we shouted out to one another. We would run north to the Evanston-Wilmette border and then head back to our dorm. I was in the best shape of my life - I met Jeremy soon after, and I always call it the greatest bait-and-switch ever. He thought he was getting involved with a runner.
When I was a twenty-something, my boyfriend-now-husband and I took epic walks. There was the walk of 50 blocks on our first date in New York City that ended with dancing to jazz in the plaza at Lincoln Center; there was the walk through the hills of San Francisco while Jeremy was living there (I was literally so tired afterwards that I fell asleep at a rock concert that night); and there was the walk along the Lake Michigan shoreline from downtown to Chicago's Lakeview neighborhood, where Jeremy decided he was going to move back to Chicago for our relationship. That last walk ended with a pitcher of margaritas at El Tapatio.
And now, Jack and I have started our pj walks.
Earlier this week, Jack and I had 30 minutes to go before his bedtime. Jossie was asleep and Jeremy was eating a late dinner. Jack was dancing around, already dressed for bed, and I said, "Let's go for a pj walk."
He looked at me excitedly. He put on his sandals and scrambled into the stroller so I could walk at my own pace (and he's happy to just go along for the ride) and out the door we went.
We talked. I learned more about his day at school than I would ever learn at home - he told me about his friends, the snack they had, and how they did not build a rocket ship out of blocks that day. Sometimes we were quiet (though Jack is never fully quiet - he's always humming or chatting). It's a great way to end the day - the fresh air calms us and it feels good to move.
We've done pj walks all this week. Jossie joined us tonight. It's been good for all of us.
Thursday was one of those days - in between me working late and half-wishing I could attend a night event -where I dreamed my mom and mother-in-law lived in town so I could send Jeremy and the kids over to them for dinner.
We are one of many families with young kids who do not live near our extended family. It's helped me to think about the ways in which my day-to-day interactions remind of the communities I've come to rely upon during my life in Chicago. My people.
It was sitting at an awards luncheon this past Tuesday with some of my favorite colleagues and board member, getting recognized for a really big project that I had no idea we could execute last year. I had a newborn. I was tired. But I had really good people working with me. And we did it. With accolades.
It's the same luncheon where I saw Jeremy and his colleagues also get recognized for their good work and that's just plain cool.
It was participating in a day-long retreat, surrounded by board and fellow staff for my organization. A group I know so well that I seated the room of 43 in 10 minutes on paper. My facilitator called it "social engineering" and so I would like that title now. Social engineer. We were there all together ready for change. And it's inspiring to know you're part of a moment in an organization's history. With nice views of Millennium Park to boot.
It was going back and forth with a corporate donor I know well. And where we got to the point that she left a dollar amount on my work voicemail and told me to work with that.
It was opening my mailbox and getting a lovely mother's day card from my best friend. It was opening my email and seeing good job news from another friend.
It was seeing Jack's excitement at the prospect of Maria's daughter Ruby coming over Saturday night with her mom. I predict Jack practically pushing Jeremy and I out the door as we head to our anniversary dinner so he can play Legos with his friend.
It was spending time at Jack's school today, celebrating the school's teachers at a lovely lunch and feeling camaraderie among the parents. It was making playdates, sharing pictures of our kids and sending post-event text messages. And getting nostalgic as we near the end of Jack's first-ever school year.
I love my family and Jeremy's family very much. I talked with my mom and my sisters on the phone this week. I texted a picture of Jossie's rash to my middle sister (turns out it was just a reaction to a vaccination). There's no doubt of the place they have in my heart. I'm grateful, however, to have found the people I have here in Chicago.
I organized the childcare for today's lunch at the preschool. I was there until the very end, and as I gathered up my children and our things to go home, I surveyed Jack's classroom. Today was a warm spring day, and the windows were thrown open, and it feel like the waning days of the school year. The afternoon noise from Michigan Avenue was soft in the background and the breeze fluttered the glittery paper stars that were hanging in the doorway. I smiled - I could here a clock tick-tocking - I certainly had never been in the classroom when it was that quiet. I'm grateful for what we found here - this loving community.
And it was the woman who rode the elevator up through the parking garage to our car with me and my cranky children who reminded me of the larger community we're all apart of. Humanity. I had my stroller laden down with a drowsy Jossie, a portable high-chair, a lunch bag, a laptop, an extra pair of shoes, my purse and Jack's monkey backpack. Jack's hand was tucked into mine as I held onto the stroller. She surveyed my little world of chaos and simply said, "Happy Mother's Day."
Yesterday, I received an email from one of my vendors at work - a port-o-potty company - inviting me to like them on the Facebook.
It's pretty safe to say that the glamour of the previous weekend has receded and my normal life is firmly back in place.
This week was crazy-pants. Meeting after meeting at work - I hate operating that way. I need a little space to organize and plan. I am not good at working on the fly. At home, I'm volunteering for Jack's preschool teachers' appreciation lunch; we're prepping for tomorrow's March of Dimes walk; and Jossie had her 15-month pediatrician appointment yesterday (25% for weigh and 50% for height - actual age, baby!).
Friday night was a welcomed respite - met with my besties for dinner. We first tried for the hip Ruxbin. Ruxbin does not take reservations and people line up at 5:30 p.m. to put their name on the list. I tried in vain, and I got a estimated time of 8:45 p.m. for our party of 3. This is too late for us mama girls, so we implemented a very nice plan B - a quiet dinner at West Town Tavern. It's one of my neighborhood favorites - a gracious atmosphere, seasonal dishes and well-priced glasses of wine.
This morning I managed a feat - while Jeremy took Jack out to run errands and Jossie girl napped, I took a lavender-scented bath - with candles, my new bath pillow and music. This was in between less-pampering activities like laundry and cleaning Roscoe's litter box, but any down moment is a good moment for this mama.
I'm grateful for the busy hum of Jeremy's and my family life, despite how tiring and chaotic it can be. I know someday I'll look back on these innocent early days - my toddler girl clinging to me at the pediatrician's office; my husband taking my preschooler for a junior baseball mitt for his first MLB game Tuesday night; and me planning yet another grocery list for the week ahead. It may not always be enchanting, but this life is mine.
And thank you for everyone who is supporting our walk tomorrow. We are overwhelmed with your generosity. Thank you.
As our plane neared LaGuardia Airport Thursday night, I held up both of my hands for Jack. I explained to him that every day has something special about it, but there are those few days that are extra special. Days like his sister's and cousins' births. Days that you can count on two hands.
"Aunt Cassie is getting married, Jack," I told him as Jossie stood on my lap, reaching her chubby hands toward the passengers seated behind us. "This Saturday is going to be one of those extra special days we'll always remember."
This weekend was a dream. My sister-in-law Cassie and my in-laws orchestrated a perfect affair for Cassie and Daniel's wedding. No detail was overlooked.
My own parents joined us, and I loved showing them New York, the city I've grown to love. We walked Central Park, taking in the sights and sounds on Friday afternoon. A rehearsal dinner at Fred's Friday night, complete with toasts, a slideshow of the bride and groom and lots of laughter. Jeremy's immediate family is small - but what they lack in cousins they make up for in wonderfully loving family friends. They are loud, faithful and supportive. Whoops and hollers went up as I gave my toast, giving Daniel the groom some advice on marrying into the family I too married into seven years ago.
I spend most of Saturday gasping at the pretty things that surrounded us. The wedding was at the Mandarin Oriental, and I beheld the exquisite beauty of the hotel - the lobby, the bridal suite and Jeremy's and my guest room, to name a few. We spent the afternoon getting ready in the bridal suite with a team of people doing our hair and make-up. Jossie was with the babysitter while Jeremy and Jack sat in the bridal suite with us - Jeremy editing his toast while Jack oblivious to all of the activity, played on my iPhone.
This being a Jewish wedding, the bride and groom saw each other before the wedding during a reveal. Cassie and Daniel are meant to be together - so perfect for one another. I felt like my heart might burst from my chest when they saw each other for the first time - so loving, so enchanted with each other, so giddy.
I'll never forget seeing the room where the ceremony was held. Cassie and my mother-in-law Ellen were getting their picture taken by the photographer. They looked stunning, and the room equally so. Elegant branches framed the chuppah; white flowers placed everywhere; and candles floated in tall, slender vases, filled with water, along the aisle.
The reception following was probably one of my favorite parts. Jack, in his little tuxedo, held my hand and asked me to order him a "cocktail" - ginger ale and cranberry juice. We staked claim to a table in the corner of the room and Jeremy brought us a plate of seafood, dumplings and sliced steak. Jack, sipping his cocktail and lounging in his tux, looked out the window at Central Park from our 36th-floor vantage point. "I could stay here forever," he said. Me too, babes.
Jack was escorted upstairs after the reception to the nicest, most pleasant babysitter in all of New York. She handled the kids well, leaving Jeremy and me to enjoy ourselves.
East Coast weddings run late - dancing goes all evening with dinner courses sprinkled in here and there. I think our main course was served around 11 p.m. that night. Toasts were wonderful, including my husband's who gave his best wedding toast ever and the father of the bride's. It was easy to lose the piece of paper and just speak from the heart to a couple who mean so much to us. And the best man's toast ended with the best man and groom doing a dance for Cassie; I'm not sure what's cuter - the dance itself or the thought of them practicing this beforehand. (And, Daniel, I'd like sister-in-law points for helping you go viral.)
The evening was love, glasses of sparkling wine and fun. No slow dances - just lots of energy and friendship. At 12:30 a.m., I couldn't believe the wedding was winding down. And in reality, it wasn't. The doors opened to another room, where there was an after-party for the late-night revelers. There was comfort food - grilled cheese, pigs in a blanket and sliders for late-night snacking. There was a DJ, club lights and spectacular views of the city.
Late into the night, Jeremy and I went to our darkened guest room to relieve the babysitter and kiss our sleeping babies. I pulled open the heavy curtains, and Jeremy and I sat on the couch, looking at the twinkling lights of the city. Seven years and two kids later, Jeremy and I are well entrenched in the "happily ever after" part of wedded bliss, and it's always a treat to reflect back on how far we've come since our own wedding day.
Weddings are special. Family weddings are even that more precious. The older I get and the more married I get, the more I value a wedding day. This day was enchanting, poignant and thoughtful. I'm so glad my own parents were included in the celebration and for the love that surrounded the couple.
We're home now and everything is a memory. Hoping the love and joy of the wedding will surround Cassie and Daniel for all of their days.
All weekend, my thoughts have been in two places: Here and There.
We made a conscience decision to not go There for Easter - my parents' house in Cleveland. As much as we knew we would miss my mom's meals, the cousins playing together and my dad reading to the kids, we're traveling again in a few weeks and it's getting harder to travel with two (though I remain proud at the efficiency in which Jeremy and I bring to an airline security line with two kids, two laptops, a double-stroller, four pairs of shoes and coats and so on). So we decided to stay home. Here.
And it helped that my mom visited last weekend for some Jack and Jossie cuddles too.
So Here we were - my first Easter not at my parents' house in about a dozen years. And - to boot - it was Passover as well. So in our glass-is-half-full perspective, it was time for Jeremy and me to start making some family traditions of our own for the brown-eyed babies.
We had the best dim sum ever with our friends in Chinatown Saturday morning at a place called Cai. It was very user-friendly - pictorial menus with English and Chinese. We - and I mean my friend's mom - over-ordered - the lazy Susan that sat in the middle of our table was a feast for the eyes and the belly. This is probably 25 percent of the food we sampled:
We're lucky that our kids aren't picky eaters and tried all of the dumplings. It was a beautiful day as we left the restaurant. We took in the afternoon walking around Chinatown with the kiddos and then came home for naps.
Saturday night was our four-person Seder. Jeremy did his best Seder ever, taking it slowly and explaining the symbols to Jack. Jack probably got about 5 percent of the Seder and that's okay. With time and repeated ritual, will also come understanding.
An Easter egg on the Seder plate because that's how we roll.
And Sunday morning was nicer than I had expected. I tried in earnest to not get too crazy with the Easter baskets and it went over well - a small toy, a book and candy for Jack and Jossie each.
Who doesn't have this picture from growing up? Okay, maybe not with the Yoda Easter basket.
Jack and I went to church. I've never been to a major holiday at my big-city church and there were lines out the door. I went with Jack to the children's service, held in the church cafeteria. We were joined by one of his day school friends. The leader told the Easter story by using differently colored pieces of paper. If a child had a particular color under his/her chair, they were to go stand by the leader. Not all children had a piece of paper, and when the leader called for the color blue, our charismatic Jack announced loudly, "Well, I'm wearing blue." And before I could say anything, he was standing by the leader. Other children caught wind of this notion, and soon half the room was standing at the front. That's my Jack - he can convince you of anything.
Jack and his buddy were restless. Jack probably got about 5 percent of the service and that's okay. With time and repeated ritual, will also come understanding.
Jeremy and Jossie picked us up for brunch at Ina's, one of our favorites, and I was geeked out to be seated at Ina's table in the back, where I promptly ordered a vanilla bean latte as a treat. And in the afternoon, after Jack's tennis class, we spent time at the Chicago Botanic Garden, enjoying the warm weather, the blooms and each other.
So all in all? A good weekend. Jeremy and I did it - two holidays and two happy kids. Happy week ahead, gentle readers!
We saw that firsthand in the NICU but also already knew it in our hearts. We are so grateful for all of the good medical care Jossie received at the hospital last year as a preemie born at 33 weeks. Jossie′s good health today is the perfect example of how far a preterm baby can go with proper care. Quite honestly, we have erased "preemie" from our everyday lexicon at this point, for which we're grateful.
Please join us in saying thanks by supporting the March of Dimes so that their advocacy, education and research can positively impact the lives of tomorrow′s children and their families. On April 29, our family and friends will be participating in the Chicago March of Dimes walk. Here are two ways you can join us:
1. Walk with us. To sign up, visit our team page. There is no registration fee, and you can sign up your entire family with one log-in name. Set your goal, which will feed into our overall goal of raising $1,000. Bring your kids and let's show them what it's like to be a part of something bigger than us.
2. Support us. Click on the March of Dimes link on the right side of this page and donate to Jack and Jossie's fund. Their personal goal is $500 toward the overall goal of $1,000. As a fundraiser by profession, I know what sells. And cute kids sell.
Thank you for helping us give all babies a healthy start!
The mission of March of Dimes is to improve the health of babies by preventing birth defects, premature birth and infant mortality.
Two of our dearest friends had their first child yesterday. And I took advantage of the lunch hour today to visit with them. Carrying a box of six cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery and a handmade "welcome to the world, baby" card from Jack, I entered their hospital room to meet our new friend, a beautiful baby boy with round cheeks. He was wrapped up tightly in his hospital blanket, a blue hat covering his head. I had the opportunity to hold him, and he was looking around, so alert and aware. His mama looked on proudly - she was glowing and calm - a lot better than I ever was post-birth!
The new father served some Perrier-Jouet in styrofoam cups, and we toasted to new life. A toast that has followed a long line of toasts in our friendship...weddings, new homes, new babies, New Year's Eve, and a warm Sunday with nothing to do besides sit on a patio chair and drink some Riesling, to name a few.
Life is so often about routine, lots of work and a long list of have-to's. Then you have a moment like this. It is such an honor and joy to have space to stop and marvel at the beauty of new life and relish the goodness of long friendships.
I had a lot of triggers being at the hospital - the same woman at the front desk in the lobby who was there last year when I was there with Jossie, a stack of "NICU mom" tags within view. Smells and sounds that put me in the place of last year. But overall, I was okay and that's nice to say.
It was a golden day outside - sunny and warm. My own children at home with Maria, having their lunches and settling down for afternoon naps.
Life is not perfect but we are all allowed some perfect life moments.
Today is St. Patrick's Day. It was 80+ degrees in Chicago, and when I ventured out, I saw many a green-clad person dancing through the streets.
I project there will be many sunburnt hungover people tomorrow.
We probably couldn't be further away from the revelry of St. Paddy's Day celebrations, and that is certainly fine. We spent the morning hosting a play date between Jack and his school friend Charlie. Charlie is Jack's first friend he hasn't know since the crib - he is such a sweet boy from a thoughtful family. He showed up with a fistful of daffodils for Jack's mommy.
I loved having a pirate and a Superman run around, looking for monsters and laughing when I told them their pirates' treasure was called "booty." (Admit it, you smiled too.)
I kind of love play dates, as the kids entertain themselves. With Jossie napping, I had time to try my hand at an omelet. Yes, City Sweet has not conquered omelets. And I did not do it today - letting the egg burn on the outside while the inside was still runny. I do love this book however - Cook's Illustrated is trying its hardest to give me step-by-step, scientific-based instructions to cooking perfection.
After good-byes to Charlie, lunch, a grocery trip and an afternoon nap for Jossie, Jeremy and I took the kids up to the Openlands Lakeshore Preserve in Lake County. The capital campaign for the Preserve started two months before Jack's birth, so I like to think of both of these projects as things I've seen grown, myself maturing too. I played a small role overall in this project, but I can certainly take credit in front of my kids, right? "Mommy helped make this place," I told Jack as we strolled along the sunny lake bluff trail, with glittering views of Lake Michigan to our left. (Though I realized I may have led him too far, after Jack asked me if I made Lake Michigan.)
I proudly took in the many visitors we passed - mostly military families who reside at Fort Sheridan, cyclists and a couple getting their engagement pictures taken by a photographer. "Mommy," Jack observed. "People like your place!"
I'll take that as a working-mama validation any day.
The sun and warm temperatures are so refreshing - it was great to play outside. I was struck by this picture however - look at those long shadows from the sun. Those are winter shadows despite our summer temperatures.
Jeremy had heard good things about Real Urban BBQ in neighboring Highland Park and is always excited to try a new BBQ joint, so we took the kids for an early dinner. The food was good - we would recommend it. They featured Carolina-style of BBQ - smoked meats and you can add your own sauces - which you ordered cafeteria-style. The kids and I love the sides, and they had an unsweetened peach iced tea that was very refreshing. People say that Jossie girl is my mini-me because of our looks but I saw the way that girl eyed her brother's mac and cheese - that is all me, baby.
They have seating outside, and I'm always quickly reminded how beautiful al fresco dining is with kids. Once you're finished, you just stand up, brush everyone off and go, go, go.
We finished our night at Homer's Ice Cream in Wilmette on our way home to the city. I like to think of it as really good birth control - the place was extremely loud, overrun by families and groups of tweens. While Jossie has had other sweets, this was her first bite of ice cream - despite her early startled reaction to its coldness, she loved it. And as I watched the tweens laughing with each other, pulling out iPhones and acting goofy, I pulled Jack's chair close to me. Grateful he's still mine, and he still wants to spend his time with Mommy.
An Irish blessing for today:
These things I warmly wish to you- Someone to love Some work to do A bit o' sun A bit o' cheer And a guardian angel always near.
I'm not really sure if I can quote a Beatles song in my blog - mostly, because I'm the only person on earth who hates The Beatles (continually trying to post controversial topics to stir up some from comments from my readers...)
Anyways, I believe in climate change and all. And I don't want Chicago to have Houston's climate by the end of the century, but I will admit: I love the warm weather we're having.
Jack had the biggest smile on his face today, as he played with his friends at school outside. And last night, we enjoyed the time change, giving us more daylight so we could enjoy the park.
Jeremy and I have been taking the vow “in sickness and in health” quite literally lately as our little family continues to pass around a cold. I think we’re now on round #2.
Despite the runny noses and dry coughs, we did have a lovely time in New York this past weekend, celebrating Jeremy’s sister’s upcoming wedding. Happiness was seeing our sister glowing at her bridal shower, being celebrating by family and friends. Happiness was seeing my mother-in-law and her friends do what they do best - throw a great party. Happiness was showing off the kiddos at the end of the shower. Jack and Jossie, of course, were overwhelmed with the love and attention they received. I sat with them at a window seat of the restaurant’s banquet room to give them a quiet moment. We watched the Upper East Side comings and goings, on the street level below. “This is New York City, children,” I whispered into their soft brown hair as I held them close, not really knowing what I was trying to impart in that moment.
Back to reality: I was home from work today, sick as a dog. I did make dinner. This is an easy meal for a weeknight. I was even able to throw together the meatballs as one 13-month-old held onto the back of my legs, sobbing into my yoga pants.
Mini turkey meatballs and pasta
1 pound ground turkey
¾ cup dry bread crumbs
1 Tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg (goes really well with the ground turkey!)
1 large egg, beaten
Mix together all ingredients. With a small scoop, make mini-meatballs and broil on high for 6-8 minutes, flipping half-way through. And this is where it gets really easy – open up a jar of premade tomato sauce and throw into a pot – put meatballs in the sauce to continue to cook for another 10-15 minutes while your pasta boils. Enjoy!
Today, being a holiday, Jeremy and I were both at home. Jeremy took Jack to Chicago's Chinatown for an adventure (dim sum at Triple Crown, a very child-friendly restaurant), while I took Jossie to her first-ever class, a music class at Bubbles Academy. I was pleasantly surprised to see we had the same teacher Jack and I had four years ago. My baby girl was so serious - she quietly watched the other crawlers, their parents and the teacher strumming her guitar. She even sighed at one point. When one little boy got too close, I assured his mother that Jossie would be fine - she has a big brother at home, after all. And...then Jossie dissolved into tears.
But eventually, she got into it, especially when they blasted recorded music from the speakers. She literally shook her diapered booty as she crawled across the carpeted room toward the kiddie maracas. And I know she's mine, but she is a sweetie little charmer, smiling at the other parents and the teacher (the kids have no interest to her, currently).
I ate up the experience. I'm pretty sure I was the only non-first-time mom in the room, and I looked back fondly at my early parenting days there four years ago, with an infant Jack, trying to figure out which end was up...if I needed to be friends with the fellow moms and if Jack was getting out of the class what he needed to learn. Now, it's all good - whatever works. I sang out-of-tune to Jossie, and we played gleefully with toys during the open play time. I laughed with the teacher at the end when she admitted she forgot the words to one of the songs - I don't think anyone - diapered or not - noticed.
I did a supermarket sweep at Whole Foods afterwards. My shopping trips are usually confined to the evenings once the kids are in bed, so it was nice to have Jossie with me. I knew our time was short since Jossie was nearing naptime, so I hustled. Though at one point, I just stopped and looked at my girl. I don't mean to paint her as so serious, but there she sat in her little light-pink, puffy coat zipped up, with her seat belt around her in the grocery cart seat. She was quiet, intently looking at me, her brow furrowed and her arms slightly out because her coat was so puffy. It was a mothering moment - I could have laughed or cried - I love her with every inch of my being.
I love being at home with my kids. I also love knowing that I'll be going to work tomorrow to a job I care about. I put a tired Jossie down for her nap at home, put away the groceries and took over Jack duties from Jeremy, who needed to go into the office. Jack and I baked one of our favorite quick breads - zucchini bread, my hallmark - the stuff of blue ribbons at the Ohio State Fair.
This recipe comes from my mom's beloved Aunt Shirley. My mom made a pretty big tweak to it (adding in the salt) and I added the applesauce. This recipe is why food is so special - it's love on a plate, passed down through the family tree.
Zucchini bread
3 eggs
2 cups sugar
¾ cup vegetable oil
¼ cup applesauce
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups grated zucchini
2 ½ cups flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup chopped nuts (optional)
Grated by hand.
Beat eggs. Add sugar and blend well. Add oil, applesauce and vanilla. Add zucchini. Mix together. Sift together dry ingredients. Gradually add to wet ingredients. Stir in nuts.
Bake in 2 greased and floured medium loaf pans at 350 degrees F for 55 to 60 minutes.
If I bake you one of these, it's because I love you
or I want something from you.
I'm really trying not to, but my mind often likes to play the game: So what was I doing last year at this time?
At this point last year, I had been released from the hospital and Jossie was in the NICU. Sundays at the hospital were the quietest. I would typically go in the afternoon to be with Jossie and stay until after her 9 p.m. check-up. I would invariably end up in the cafeteria for dinner because it was too cold to walk to a nearby restaurant and I didn't have the energy to pack a meal. Jeremy would be home with Jack, and on this Sunday last year, he watched the Jets come thisclose to going to the Super Bowl.
The same young guy would always be working at the grill in the cafeteria on Sunday evenings. He was probably the least senior guy and hence he worked this shift, and as I would order a piece of chicken, we would both stand there, feeling sorry for each other, the cafeteria lonely and quiet behind us.
Those were the gray moments of Jossie's NICU stay. I told my friend Marisa recently that I'm glad to be a year beyond those memories, and with each year that comes, we will flutter down a new set of memories atop those days. And I hope my friend Alissa (all of my friends' names do not rhyme, by the way...) doesn't mind me quoting her, but "...it's not bad to reflect on hard times, if for nothing but to remember how fortunate we are for what we have."
And so when I shake myself of those memories, I open my eyes to the technicolor of today. Jossie has her adorable crawl on, and Jack is constantly inventing new games to play. "Mommy, we're in a spaceship and Roscoe (our cat) is in trouble," he says as he's hopping on one foot. "We have to put our space suits on and we're going to take this rope to rescue him from the moon."
This particular Sunday was a day of pjs, long naps and toy explosions in the living room. I made a super-simple dinner that made the house smell good all day:
Memphis-style pulled pork Ingredients
1/2 cup ketchup
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
1 T. yellow mustard
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 t. paprika
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 t. Liquid Smoke
1 onion, finely chopped
3-4 pounds pork shoulder (bone-in)
Directions
Combine ketchup, Worcetershire sauce, vinegar, mustard, garlic, paprika, brown sugar, Liquid Smoke and onion to make BBQ sauce.
Trim any visible fat from pork shoulder; put in slow cooker and coat with sauce.
Cook at least 6 hours and up to 8 hours on low.
Take meat out to rest. Put sauce into a glass measuring cup and let the fat float to the top top. Skim off fat, then put sauce in a small pan and bring to a boil. Turn down to a simmer until thickened, about 10 minutes.
When the pork is cooled, shred the meat, discarding the fat and bone. Serve alone or on buns.
We ate it with roasted sweet potato and carrots, sprinkled with a dose of our favorite spice blend, Back of the Yards Garlic Pepper. And my friend Margaret turned me on to Trader Joe's cornbread mix so we made some cornbread with our dinner. She jazzes it up with cheddar cheese and jalapenos but we go straightforward in our house. And it's delicious - cake-like and not dry at all. Try it and you'll see! I did top my cornbread with some local honey from the Chicago Honey Co-op, a Green City Market vendor. You haven't lived until you've tried non-grocery store honey. The floral notes were over the top - I could seriously taste the flower petals that the bees danced upon. Also, eating local honey is good for your health, acting as an immune booster, reducing your seasonal allergies against local flowering plants. How great is that?
Well, I could give you a retrospective on Jossie's first few days in the NICU, since we're celebrating that anniversary. But it's Friday afternoon; it's snowing like there's no tomorrow; and my husband's probably stranded in Minneapolis, where he'll have to suffer sleeping by himself in a W Hotel with room service.
So I present to you:
How my 12 month old is like a drunk person
1. She staggers around, holding on to furniture to pull herself up.
2. "Personal space" is not in her vocabulary.
3. She'll grab the Fisher-Price microphone and start to babble into it.
4. She's constantly drooling.
5. She likes to throw food.
6. It's illegal for her to drive a car.
7. She'll laugh for no good reason.
8. She has no concept of time.
9. If she wants to prove her point, she gets louder.
10. She'll be kissing me one moment and crying the next.
I'm a big fan of montages. "One Shining Moment" at the end of the Final Four? I eat it up. The tributes at the Academy Awards? Love them.
So I present my somewhat-clumsily written montage for 2011. These are the moments that still make me laugh and cry. Sometimes both.
All of the miracles leading up to Jossie's birth, allowing Jeremy to be there, me to be awake for the actual moment and Jossie being given the best care possible from the moment she took her first breath...Leaving Jossie at night in the NICU, I would close her window shade because I was afraid the nurses would forget and the sun would wake her too early in the morning and me doing anything to feel like I was in control...Friends Amy and Mark allowing Jack to climb into bed with them while they kept him during my hospital stay...my parents' and Jeremy's parents unending generosity in their own personal ways to support us...the thoughtfulness of our family and friends who surrounded us in love throughout the weeks surrounding Jossie's arrival...future brother-in-law Daniel emailing Jeremy and me the day before he proposed to Cassie...crying at the pediatrician's office after learning Jossie was on the growth charts for her actual age...reuniting with our nannyshare friends after they moved to Cleveland...holding Jack on our friends Emily and Steve's new rooftop deck in Wrigleyville, the summer breezes encircling us as we took in Wrigley Field and the views of downtown, so grateful that our friends had moved back to Chicago...an early dinner at Navy Beach at the end of the earth - Montauk, NY - everything sparkled that evening - the drinks, the food, the water as Jack tried to skipped stones...Jack so capably adjusting to life as a preschooler and big brother...standing with my co-workers at the conclusion of our gala benefit at the Openlands Lakeshore Preserve, the moon heavy over the Lake Michigan shoreline and our U.S. senator stopping by, not as a politician but as a person supporting our work...seeing my sister's nurturing ways and spunk in her toddler daughter...Maria's daughter Ruby telling me that she's "loved Jack since he was two months old"...Jack's preschool teacher crying as she said good-bye to one of Jack's classmates who would be moving over winter break...looking at my perfect baby nephew Logan on Christmas Eve across the dinner table...holding my two brown-haired babies on my lap Christmas morning, feeling their sweet heartbeats...
What 3 lbs 6 oz has taught me: People I know have had much harder troubles than me in 2011. I'm grateful for my family's health and will never take it for granted. I continue to reflect on the babies in the NICU during our time there - beyond just surviving, they embodied the human spirit of thriving. We use that word a lot now - thrive - to talk about how Jossie is doing. But I think it's also a good outlook for 2012. Life is always going to have its usual trappings (like sweeping up crumbs underneath the highchair - I hate sweeping up crumbs underneath the highchair) but you can choose your outlook for how you spend your days. Take care of yourself and the ones you love; spend more time doing things that are important to you; and try your best to tamp down your worries and trust you are making the right decisions. From today's daily devotion from Fourth Church: We are each called by God--called to be better than we believe or allow ourselves to be.
Here's to writing the best stories we can for our lives in 2012.
This weekend was a quiet one, and we needed it. Last week, I was out four of the five weeknights for lots of holiday cheer and that is too much for me and for the kids. Jeremy and I each had a work holiday party Thursday, along with Jack's holiday party at school Friday.
Jack with the Day School's beloved "Grandma" Penny.
Happy.
By yesterday morning, I was pooped. Jack and I both were sick, and we all hid away from the world, spending Saturday in our pjs and watching the snow from our window. Jeremy and I even had to cancel our plans to attend friends' holiday party that night.
Today, we regrouped. We were all feeling better and the sun was shining brightly. I took off early in the morning, hitting stores as they opened. I finished my Christmas shopping and bought my ingredients for my Hanukkah dinner (how many people can say that in the same sentence?). I came through our front door, stashing a few toy shopping bags in the front closet and triumphantly holding an 8-pound, bone-in turkey breast.
And the big to-do after an early lunch: We took Jossie for her first haircut. Everyone I know has an opinion on if we should cut her hair or not, but I reasoned, I'm the mama, so I get to decide. And so:
Before
During
After
I started dinner around 4 p.m. tonight. I have been determined to find the best shepherd's pie recipe ever. I have tried many a recipe and this time, I modified one I had found through the Epicurious app. While my version doesn't use the traditional ground lamb, I think I've found a winner. The fresh rosemary really makes this dish; one whiff of it, and I feel like I'm in Tommy Nevin's Pub back in Evanston.
The Best Shepherd's Pie Ever 1 tablespoon olive oil 1/2 large onion, peeled and chopped 3 large carrots, peeled and chopped 2 pounds ground beef 2 cups beef broth 2 tablespoons tomato paste 2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary 1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat parsley 1 cup frozen peas 3 poundsrusset potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
Drain the fat and add the broth, tomato paste, and
herbs. Simmer until the juices thicken, about 10-12 minutes, then add the peas.
Pour the mixture into a 9x13 baking dish and set aside.
Meanwhile, bring the potatoes to a boil in salted
water. Cook until tender, about 20 minutes; drain. Mash the potatoes with the butter, half-and-half, salt and pepper. My preferred mashing method is to bust out the electric hand mixer.
Spread the mashed potatoes over the meat mixture, then crosshatch
the top with a fork.
Brush the potatoes with egg wash.
Bake in a 375-degree oven until golden, 30 to 35
minutes.
Shepherd's pie is not the most photogenic. I tried to take pictures but they were not pretty. Just trust me on this one and try out this recipe some cold winter night.
I would like to preface this post by saying I love Internet shopping. It is my saving grace this holiday season. Thank you, Amazon.
This past Sunday morning, I was standing on Michigan Avenue and thought to myself, "What the heck am I doing here?"
You could feel the rush of holiday shoppers descending on this shopping destination. I myself had just left church. Taking advantage of my validated parking at a nearby building (that's city living for you - validated parking to attend church), I had three errands to run: Return a pair of pants bought online; buy gloves for Jeremy at Bloomingdale's; and buy a box of thank you notes. I kept my head down and moved quickly.
As most parents I know, Jeremy and I are trying to keep perspective on the holiday season, focusing on the joys of Christmas and spending more time with family and less time on the hustle and bustle of the season.
Last night, we felt the joy. Jack and I made a mess of holiday cookies. Emphasis on the mess. There were sprinkles everywhere but we had the Frank Sinatra holiday station playing on Pandora; Jossie squealing at her toys as the Christmas lights sparkled; and the sweet smells of sugar cookies perfuming the air.
I've shared this recipe before but it's worth sharing again. It's my mom's tried-and-true recipe:
Sugar Cookies
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1 cup butter, softened
1 egg
1 t. vanilla extract
1/2 t. almond extract
2 1/2 cups flour
1 t. baking soda
1 t. cream of tartar
Mix powdered sugar, butter, egg, vanilla and almond extracts. Stir in flour, baking soda and cream of tartar. Cover and refrigerate for at least 3 hours.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Divide dough in half. Roll each half 3/16-inch thick on a lightly flour-covered surgace. Cut dough in desired shapes with cookie cutters. Bake on an ungreased cookie sheet for about 7 to 8 minutes (until edges are slightly browned). Frost and decorate as desired.
I did not frost the cookies; I simply used sprinkles because it was easier. I picked up red and green sanding sugar at Williams-Sonoma and was so pleased with the results. If you do have time for frosting, however: Creamy Decorators' Frosting
Beat 1 cup powdered sugar, 1/2 t. vanilla extract and about 1 T. water or 1 to 2 T. of half and half until smooth and of spreading consistency. Tint with 2 to 3 drops of food coloring, if desired. Makes enough for 3 to 5 dozen cookies.
This morning, I plugged in the Christmas tree lights and held Jack close as we enjoyed a quiet moment. I asked him what Christmas is about.
"Being nice...," he replied and I felt my heart sing and a tear spring to my eye. "...to Santa, so I can get presents."
Okay, so maybe there's a bit more work to be done.
And mamas, my BFF turned me on to this website if you do need some quick, good ideas for Christmas gifts. All of these links are my own personal editorial - nothing was sponsored - just me spreading my finds.
. This was in between less-pampering activities like laundry and cleaning Roscoe's litter box, but any down moment is a good moment for this mama.
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