A brief pause

I’ve been on a bit of an extended vacation from blogging since last week, primarily because I haven’t been able to physically sit at my computer for several days.  But before you feel sorry for me, I can’t blame the kiddos or any laborious chore on this dilemma; it was because I had a girls’ weekend with one of my best friends in the entire world—Eileen!



Sara, me and Eileen at Rosie's wedding (2005)



Rebecca, Eileen, Telia, Rosie (the bride), me and Sara

Eileen and I met our junior year in college (over ten years ago now – wow) and clicked immediately.  She is one of those rare friends that when you meet them you instinctively know you will get along with them and spend the rest of your friendship laughing your pants off—that’s my Eileen.  She’s had some incredible adventures since graduation, including a three-year stint in the Peace Corps (stationed in the Philippines), working with refugees in Uganda and South Africa, and now finally she is back on US soil after joining the Foreign Service in Washington, DC.  Sadly (for me, not for her), she will be moving again soon to a post yet to be determined for the next two years—but until then I am determined to see her as much as possible since she is now a less-than-two-hour train ride away!

It was a beautiful October weekend in Washington DC, so Eileen and I walked until our legs nearly fell off.  We saw the new Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial and revisited some old favorites including the FDR and Thomas Jefferson memorials.  After hours of sightseeing, we dragged our tired feet back to her apartment, put our legs up and watched bad TV for the rest of the evening (and I mean really bad—The Prince and Me movie starring Julia Stiles and The Real Housewives of New Jersey.  Classy.).  It was a perfect visit!

Somehow, Eileen, Sara, Rosie and I need to get back together again for a complete girls’ weekend, but it was an incredible luxury to have nearly 48 hours of adult time and I hope to have more of those weekend escapes—as many as Will will let me!

And speaking of Will, by all accounts Frances, George and Daddy had a rocking weekend without Mommy, including cousin Trey’s birthday party, several trips to the playground and a church picnic complete with a treasure hunt and cupcakes.  In fact I have no pictures from my weekend with Eileen because I left the camera for Will’s use—and I still haven’t been able to sort through the 100+ pictures he took.  But from what I can gather…

…they were well fed:

There was some cake involved:

And presents (for the birthday boy):



Happy third birthday, Trey!



And what’s a birthday without balloons:

Baby Justin and Grandma

A good hair day?:

Rehydrating:

Everyone under the age of four say CHEESE!:



Frances, Trey and George



When I arrived home, Frances and George were jumping up and down and Will needed a nap.  A long one.

Happy Tuesday everyone!

The coldest, wettest show on earth

In case you missed it (as if I’d let you!), George turned two last week.  In one of his most brilliant fatherly decisions (and there have been many), Will bought him a Mickey Mouse balloon and a "2" balloon on his way home from work, which have been by far George's most treasured gifts to date in his short life.

I will really miss these days of cheap easy birthday presents.  But don’t worry, we did get him an actual present, too – a strider bike – with hopes that he and Frances can cruise the neighborhood in the coming months.

We decided to celebrate George’s birthday at the State Fair of Virginia this year.  Will had taken the kids in years past (I was always working or hugely pregnant or giving birth—you know, minor events—so I had never gone) and it happened to fall on the weekend after George’s Wednesday birthday.  So, the state fair it was!

Sadly, the weather was terrible – cold and rainy.  But our families made an incredible effort to come and have fun and I could not have asked for any more to celebrate George’s number 2.



Cheese!  The birthday boy in his adorable birthday shirt (the truck has a number 2 candle in it)




Checking out the livestock



Waiting in line to milk the cow

Henry, James and Uncle Dave milking the cow

Frances has a viable career path should she choose it.  If you look closely you can see the milk.

Trey, Frances and George loved the corn play area



The rest of us wondered why the heck Trey, Frances and George loved the corn play area.



The “big kids” stayed for an afternoon of food and rides while George, Nana, Pop and I said goodbye.  I have no pictures to prove it, but a little bird told me that the weather cleared up and Frances rode every single ride she could get her little hands on.

And I couldn’t close this post without sharing with everyone what might be the best birthday note of all time written by George’s cousin, Andy:

It says:  Dear George – I love you and miss you.  I hope you have a good time with the truck (his gift), and for a good idea you can put rocks in it and dump it on your sisters (Frances) toe.  Another idea is you can race if Frances has a car or truck to.  Have a good birthday!  Love, Andy  PS – I’m not sure if I spelled “Frances” right : ) 

Priceless.

Not surprisingly, Frances chose option #2; but I know George is waiting with rocks in hand to try choice #1.

And good job with the spelling, Andy!  You have obviously been spared your youngest aunt’s bad spelling gene.  For Frances and George's sake, I hope it is recessive.

Happy Thursday everyone! 

 

Cooking 102

I cannot believe I wrote an entire blog post yesterday about my cooking (boring!) and utterly failed to mention my sweet girl’s latest adventure – a cooking class with her Gram-E and Mr. Pyles.

The Pyles generously signed her up for four age-appropriate cooking classes through a program called “Kids in the Kitchen.”  It sounds adorable and I have no idea what goes on and I love that!  I love sharing my children with others and I am so honored that they have many wonderful friends and family in their lives that adore being with them (almost) as much as I do.

Frances and Gram-E before her first class:

They made applesauce that day and France came home tickled pink with her finished product.

Mr. Pyles couldn’t resist coming to the next class and was able to take some pictures of our own Julia Child in the making:



A good chef always tastes her food before serving it, right?



Post-class, pre-lunch trip to Wal-Mart to scope out potential birthday gifts. 
Apparently the unicorn bike helmet is a hint to me.

Two classes remain, one of which is a “Holiday Cookies” edition.  I can only imagine some serious tasting will be going on that Saturday morning.

Happy Tuesday everyone!

Cooking 101

Since I made the proclamation a month ago about my resolution to cook more, I thought I should at least share some of the successes (and epic failures) I have had these past 30 days.  It is also important to note that I am no chef, all of the recipes come from websites and/or cookbooks that deserve much more credit than I could give them, and I am still not used to taking pictures of my food (children, yes; dinner, still seems weird), so I wish I had more of the evidence to share. 

I’ll start things on a positive note – pot sticker burgers.  I picked this up from a blog that one of my friends (thanks, Mary!) suggested I read called Iowa Girl Eats.  On my first visit to this great blog, I came across this recipe for pot sticker burgers.  Very good (if you are a pot sticker fan) and very easy (if you know how to use a grill, which I do not; thankfully Will loves to grill). 



For some much more professional-looking pictures, please visit the recipe link.  But in reality, this is what they look like - and they are GOOD.



We ate these with grilled pineapple and beer.  My only regret was that the recipe only made four burgers – next time I am definitely doubling it.

I was feeling a bit cheeky after my burger triumph (and few other minor meal victories) that I thought I would branch out into the uber-healthy arena of kale chips.  I had seen pictures of my friends’ children on Facebook happily chomping down on these delicacies and thought to myself, “I can do that,” coupled with a tinge of guilt and jealousy that F&G aren’t exposed to nearly enough different kinds of foods (“what’s wrong with me?  I’m at home fulltime now.  I should be making kale chips, darn it!”).  I found a recipe online that seemed easy and quick.  Kale leaves, olive oil, sea salt into a 400-ish degree oven for 10-ish minutes:

It all started so pretty:

Can you see the reflection of me giving myself a high five, mother-of-the-year pat on the back?  No?  It’s there, I promise.

And they came out looking like this:

Frances didn’t want to go near them.  Will wouldn’t even touch them.  So, I ate all of the kale “chips” (which were really just roasted kale with sea salt) myself.  They tasted good, but looked like….well, poo.

My bruised ego and I moved on to an old standby recipe that I’ve made several times in the past and is very difficult to mess up – four cheese roasted vegetables:

This recipe comes from one of my most loved cookbooks:

My church growing up (and where Will and I were married!).

I’ve changed a couple of things from the original recipe and next time I think I’ll change it again, but here it is in its original form:

Four Cheese Roasted Vegetables

2 medium white potatoes

2 medium sweet potatoes

1 T olive oil

1 tsp each basil and oregano

¼ tsp each salt and pepper

1 large zucchini, cut into ½-inch pieces

1 large red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces

2 cloves of garlic, minced

2 cups Sargent’s 4-cheese casserole blend

Fresh basil for garnish (optional)

Place potatoes in a 13x9 inch baking dish; drizzle with olive oil; sprinkle with basil, oregano, salt and pepper.  Toss lightly to coat.  Bake at 425° for 20 minutes.  Add zucchini, red pepper and garlic; stir; return to oven and bake for 20 minutes or until vegetables are tender.  Sprinkle with cheese and return to oven for 2 minutes or until cheese is melted.  Garnish and serve!

YUM!  What changes am I going to try next time?  No white potatoes (neither Will nor I are big fans anyway), one more zucchini and one more red pepper.  Otherwise the seasoning is perfect.

And in honor of this perfect sweater weather we are having here in Virginia (although I could stand for a little less rain), I wanted to pass on this sinfully easy recipe I just tried last week for pumpkin spice cookies.  I picked this up from the comments to a blog that I read as often as I can – Clover Lane.  I don’t usually read the comments to a blog post (I’m doing well if I can squeeze in enough time for the post itself), but she had written a very good article on preschool (something I’ve been struggling with for a few weeks now) and I found myself wanting to hear what her other readers were thinking.  One of them left this recipe:

Pumpkin Spice Cookies

One can of pumpkin

One box of spice cake mix

3-4 handfuls of chocolate chips (or more!  I used about ½ of a normal sized bag)

Mix together well.  Drop spoonfuls onto a greased cookie sheet.  Bake at 350° for about 15 minutes:

They may not look so pretty, but they are ridiculously good.  The cake mix keeps them soft for days afterwards (if you can keep them in the house that long) and (shocker) Frances loved them!

So, on that high note I am off to make more cookies since that is definitely a no-fail recipe and since Frances’s mother also loved them so much she inhaled the remaining 5 after the kids had gone to bed last night.

Happy Monday everyone!

A dream is a wish your heart makes

So, I did it.  I actually did something that I swore I would never do before I had Frances (a.k.a., the girly-girl I never was growing up) – I took her to see Disney Princesses on Ice.  It was actually called just Disney on Ice, but try telling Frances that (and considering its primary focus was the appropriately named “Disney Princesses” Frances knew what she was talking about).

Unsurprising to anyone who has ever met my daughter, she loved it.  And quite frankly, so did her mother who seems to be getting choked up these days at the drop of a hat when she experiences things for the first time with her kids.  The lights dim, the music starts, the performers come out, I glance at Frances, and the waterworks begin (for me, not Frances of course).

But enough about my sniveling and on to the pictures!

Frances and me on our way out the door with little bro attached to my hip.  Poor kid looks like he’s really convinced himself he’s coming with us:

At the show!  And just for all of you other amateur mothers out there, if you ever take your girls to Disney on Ice, please let them dress as their favorite princess (or any princess for that matter).  Poor Frances was the only girl under 20-years-old wearing civilian clothes.  Oops.  Thankfully she handled it remarkably well:

First came Mickey, Minnie, Goofy and Donald:

Then came Tiana (from The Princess and the Frog):

I wish I had taken more than one picture of her - she was stunning!

Then came Cinderella (my personal favorite!):

The top left picture is in honor of my sister Katherine, who Frances calls her "fairy godmother."

And Rapunzel closed the show:



The pictures cannot do this show justice.  It was breathtaking how high these skaters flew up in the air.



Thankfully, Ariel (Frances’s favorite) made a quick appearance:

Afterwards, we headed to Mexico Restaurant for Frances’s favorite dinner out – “Cheese and Chips!”  Can you blame her?

And yes, I’m certain we’ll be going again when the tour comes back through Richmond.  Frances has already picked out her costume for the next time around:



This picture is almost a year old, but her joy hasn't faded a bit.  Sniff!



Two!

Somehow (and without my permission, the little stinker) George turns two years old today.  I’ve been saying he is “almost two” since he turned 20 months so I thought I would be okay with just dropping the almost and simply saying “he’s two.”  Nope – I’m a weepy-eyed mess, particularly as I’m looking through pictures from this last year trying to figure out what in the world I am going to say in honor of my little man.

George is simply wonderful.  He’s opinionated, he’s tender, he’s hot tempered (particularly when he’s sick or tired), he’s passionate, and he is an absolute loveable mess of a boy and I can’t imagine life without him.  George had some pretty big shoes to fill following in his sister’s footsteps and he has somehow managed to stand out in this small family of unique personalities.

George is physically huge (and as an aside, I do not intend this to mean that I have somehow succeeded in parenting because I have a large child.  That mentality drives me nuts.  George is big because Will is 6’5” and I come from a family of large males.  Period.  Children who are small are just as wonderful, bright and likely to succeed.  And those same children may very well tower over my kids in twenty years’ time – you just never know).  George was big from the get-go at almost 9 pounds and 22+ inches long.  I never will forget one of the delivery nurses telling me “you’re going to have a hard time keeping this one full.”  And two years later I can safely say that woman knew exactly what she was talking about.  As a baby, George nursed every two hours like clockwork.  And these were no 15-minute snack times; these were marathon 45-minute suck me dry sessions.  George still eats most meals as though they are his last and I get a bit weary thinking of our future grocery bill when the boy reaches middle school.  Frances is tall for her age, but just as recently as Monday afternoon I was asked if I have twins.  Gulp. 

Understandably, George’s size is a huge disadvantage for me when it comes to picking him up or “gently” physically forcing him to do something he adamantly does not want to—like get in his car seat.  Most of the time, he has to think that what you’re asking of him is a good idea or will produce some pleasure (such as the much coveted paci or vanilla wafers; yep, I have become one of “those” mothers).  If all else fails and I am forced to pick up his flailing, crying, hitting, biting little body to put him in the car/put him in the stroller/remove him from the playground, he has learned to say “Owwwwww, Mommy, owwwww!!” as though my request is nothing but pure physical torture.  Nice.  Did I also mention that George is incredibly bright?

But 99.9% of the time, George is a peach and well-mannered; and he has come an incredibly long way in every milestone (most importantly his behavior) since I stopped working.  He’s talking in sentences (although his words are not as clear as Frances was at his age.  I know, stop comparing them – but it’s hard not to!), he’s mastering games and toys, he’s cautious without being shy, he’s careful with his body but can easily maneuver physical activities after watching someone else do it just once or twice, he’s independent but highly affectionate, and he has such a joy for life (which is really all that matters in the end, right?).

Happy birthday, George!  Thank you for letting me watch you grow these last two years and for being my partner in crime these last six months – it has been the greatest pleasure of my life.

And now I am going to blubber into the nearest tissue.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

The mourning period

As many of you may know, REM announced this week that they are officially calling it quits after over 30 years of great music.  For those of you who don’t know REM is one of Will’s top 4 (or maybe top 2?) favorite bands**, so our house has been filled with REM tunes since their sad proclamation on Thursday.  It’s a strange feeling to hear all of these songs drifting through our kitchen when you know that the men behind the music are no longer creating together.  I am at best an amateur REM listener, but I know how much they have meant to Will since his high school days and find myself grieving along with him.

[**Update:  After reading my post, Will gently reminded me that REM is actually his favorite band.  I hesitated in updating this status simply because it sounded a bit like Frances telling me who is her favorite Disney Princess.  But alas, I am one for an accurate blog.  So "favorite band" it is.]

Will loves music and this is one of the things I love most about him.  Our children are so blessed to grow up in a home filled with music of almost every genre—because that’s my Will.  He is as opened minded about his music as he is about everything else.  But he has a very special place for REM and I can’t disagree with him.  Will and I went to one of their concerts early on in our marriage (or maybe we were engaged?  Or just dating?  In any event, it was pre-children which is really the only baseline that matters anymore).  In a word, REM was phenomenal.  They played songs that I knew every word to (i.e. the radio hits that us fair-weather fans know) as though it was the first time they had ever performed them, but also catered to the die-hard fans with their less known songs (but no less extraordinary).  They expressed sincere passion for their stage show and as a former (dance) performer I was blown away and inspired.

Will and I are both hitting our mid-30s and slowly coming to terms with the fact that we are drifting into the older half of the generations.  We are replacing the baby boomers who mourned the dismantling of the Beatles and now have an inkling of the sadness our parents must have felt when their heroes (music or otherwise) stepped down from their respective roles simply because it was “time.”  You can’t help but ask, “WHY?  But surely you’re not really DONE with your passion??”  I’d like to hope that our sadness revolves around the fact that our children won’t be able to experience a new REM album the way Will did; instead they will only be able to refer to the band as “classic music.”  But admittedly I think some of that sadness is just about getting older and the realization that more and more of these “last moments” are going to happen.  I know we are not old and we (hopefully) are not even half-way through our lives; maybe that’s what makes these small but forever changes in our time that much harder.  We will be watching our children’s music idols stride into the positions of our icons stepping down and I will do my best not to be the crotchety woman voicing my distaste in the background.  And knowing Will, he will join right in with the next generation’s music and never miss a beat.

As a tribute to REM and even more so to my wonderful husband, below is a video of Will’s favorite REM song “Find the River.”  This is one of the few songs that will immediately calm both children down in their fussiest of states and I think you’ll understand why when you hear it.

There is nothing better than hearing poetry through music.

Happy Sunday everyone!

(Please excuse any commercial that may play before the actual music.  Blah.  I promise it's worth the 15-second wait.)