In about an hour, I'm packing both kids into the car and driving to Ottawa to visit my sister and brother-in-law. And I'm doing it without Ryan.
So that means I have to pay attention to driving and keep the kids happy as well.
I'm leaving at about 1 p.m., in hopes that they'll both nap for part of the time. Although Alex through me for a loop this morning and is currently taking a second morning nap. So much for her going to sleep at 1ish. But Austin is at the sitter's right now, so I'm fairly confident that she's doing a good job of tiring him out for me. In a few minutes I'll wake Alex up so she can have some lunch and we can play for a bit before it's time to get in the car for the four to six hour drive.
For this trip, I'm throwing all my rules out the window. Austin will be allowed to snack on whatever he wants -- so yes, I've packed treats -- and I loaded some kids shows onto the ipod and hooked it up to crappy little speakers so that he can watch TV for part of the time. Ryan and I are both very anti-DVD players in the car, but for this trip, I've made the exception.
I'm just hoping that Alex stays content for most of the trip. She's harder to entertain while driving, because she doesn't watch TV, doesn't snack on anything except mum-mums (and those can get boring) and she's rear facing so it's hard to hand her things to play with.
She'll have her soother whenever she wants -- and I'm keeping extras up front with me for when she rips it off the string and tosses it on the floor where I can't reach. And, as I said, hopefully, she'll sleep for awhile.
And, hence the four to six hour time frame, we'll likely stop at a roadside McDonalds somewhere so Austin can run around and Alex can have a bottle.
So here's hoping. I'll let you know next week if this was a brave idea or a stupid one.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
Things taste different now
You'd think by the time you passed the age of 30, your likes and dislikes when it comes to food would be pretty much set in stone. Either you like a certain food, or you don't. Tastes don't really change after 30 years, do they?
For me, apparently they have -- and I blame (or thank?) pregnancy for these changes.
When I was pregnant with Austin, I suddenly started liking bacon. I never liked bacon. Occasionally, I'd like the smell of bacon cooking but I didn't like the taste of it. Ryan hated and loved this. He hated it because he loves bacon and I wouldn't cook it -- in fact, we rarely kept it in the house. He loved it because of those rare occasions that a sniff of bacon would prompt me to order it when out for breakfast, only to stare at it and tell him to eat it.
I was about 16 weeks pregnant with Austin when this suddenly changed. We were out for breakfast on a Sunday morning following an out-of-town wedding when I decided to order bacon. Ryan, being ever-so-smart, ordered the breakfast sausage, figuring this way he get both. Our breakfasts arrived and I, much to Ryan's dismay, proceeded to eat every scrap of bacon on my plate.
Now, over three years later, I still eat bacon, like bacon and, in fact, have learned how to cook bacon.
Earlier this year, when I was pregnant with Alexandra, I was still eating bacon, but I still did not like any other pork products. Then came Easter.
I was about 35 weeks pregnant and, for Easter dinner, we decided to cook a ham. A real ham, not processed meat ham. And I say we, because we were at the store trying to decide what to get for dinner (because we were having Easter dinner company) when I said, "a ham would be really good tonight".
These were shocking words to Ryan (probably as shocking as the "how hard can it be to make a pumpkin pie words from a few weeks ago) because ham was like bacon to me. I didn't like it. Although, he had seen me eat it to be polite when his mother cooked it -- however, after a few years of taking a tiny piece of ham on my plate and lots of vegetables, I think she figured out that I wasn't a ham fan.
But there I was saying I wanted to cook a ham that night. And we did. And it was REALLY good!
And now, I'll eat ham -- even the processed meat ham.
On the flip side, when I was pregnant with Alexandra, I couldn't stand vinegrette salad dressings and now I'm not a big fan of them anymore. Too bad really, I used to love them.
I blame all of these changes of tastes on pregnancy hormones. I expected to want to eat weird or different things when I was pregnant; but I didn't expect to still be eating (or not eating) those same things post-pregnancy.
On that note, I'm cooking perogies for dinner tonight, with lots of bacon.
For me, apparently they have -- and I blame (or thank?) pregnancy for these changes.
When I was pregnant with Austin, I suddenly started liking bacon. I never liked bacon. Occasionally, I'd like the smell of bacon cooking but I didn't like the taste of it. Ryan hated and loved this. He hated it because he loves bacon and I wouldn't cook it -- in fact, we rarely kept it in the house. He loved it because of those rare occasions that a sniff of bacon would prompt me to order it when out for breakfast, only to stare at it and tell him to eat it.
I was about 16 weeks pregnant with Austin when this suddenly changed. We were out for breakfast on a Sunday morning following an out-of-town wedding when I decided to order bacon. Ryan, being ever-so-smart, ordered the breakfast sausage, figuring this way he get both. Our breakfasts arrived and I, much to Ryan's dismay, proceeded to eat every scrap of bacon on my plate.
Now, over three years later, I still eat bacon, like bacon and, in fact, have learned how to cook bacon.
Earlier this year, when I was pregnant with Alexandra, I was still eating bacon, but I still did not like any other pork products. Then came Easter.
I was about 35 weeks pregnant and, for Easter dinner, we decided to cook a ham. A real ham, not processed meat ham. And I say we, because we were at the store trying to decide what to get for dinner (because we were having Easter dinner company) when I said, "a ham would be really good tonight".
These were shocking words to Ryan (probably as shocking as the "how hard can it be to make a pumpkin pie words from a few weeks ago) because ham was like bacon to me. I didn't like it. Although, he had seen me eat it to be polite when his mother cooked it -- however, after a few years of taking a tiny piece of ham on my plate and lots of vegetables, I think she figured out that I wasn't a ham fan.
But there I was saying I wanted to cook a ham that night. And we did. And it was REALLY good!
And now, I'll eat ham -- even the processed meat ham.
On the flip side, when I was pregnant with Alexandra, I couldn't stand vinegrette salad dressings and now I'm not a big fan of them anymore. Too bad really, I used to love them.
I blame all of these changes of tastes on pregnancy hormones. I expected to want to eat weird or different things when I was pregnant; but I didn't expect to still be eating (or not eating) those same things post-pregnancy.
On that note, I'm cooking perogies for dinner tonight, with lots of bacon.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
It's official -- I CAN bake
After writing last week about my new-found enjoyment of baking and my strange urge to bake a pumpkin pie, a friend of mine e-mailed me her mom's pie recipe and instructions on how to cook fresh pumpkin.So, as soon as Halloween was over -- and before I could change my mind or chicken out -- I carved up our spooky pumpkin, cooked it up and pureed the heck out of it. I now have enough pureed pumpkin in my freezer to bake about 5 pies (or other pumpkin treats).
But there was enough for 6 pies. That's right, I baked one for dinner on Saturday. Not only am I crazy enough to follow through with this strange urge, but I did so with the intention of serving it to my inlaws after dinner.
The whole time the pie was baking, Ryan kept joking to his mom that he doesn't know what has come over his wife lately -- me, the woman whose only adventures in baking for the 11 years he's known me has been to open a mix; or better yet, to buy pre-baked goods at the store.
To be honest, I used a frozen pie crust. But to be completely honest, the recipe stated to use a "9-inch frozen pie crust", so really, I did it myself and followed the recipe to a T.
And it came out great. My mother-in-law said so and my husband said so. Although the insecure me knew that they could have been saying that to be polite. But when Austin told me it was good and asked for more, I knew it had to be good.
After all, a two-year-old doesn't know how to lie just to be polite.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
The arsenic hour
One day, when Austin was the baby and I was having a bad afternoon with him, my mother used an old-fashioned expression that made me laugh. The arsenic hour.
She explained that the arsenic hour usually falls in the late afternoon -- sometime between 4 and 7 p.m. and is almost always before dinner -- when the kid (or kids) are wired and/or hungry and/or over-stimulated and can be annoying as hell. In other words, a perfect cocktail to drive any mother crazy.
The expression, she said, was one her mother used to use, and the part that made me laugh was when my mom said she was never sure if the arsenic hour meant the kids were so crazy you wanted to feed them arsenic or you wanted to take it yourself.
As I've been learning these past few months, having one baby is easy compared to having a baby and a two-year-old. With one baby, no matter how fussy he was being, I could still manage to get things done and retain my sanity. (Or at least, that's how my memory recalls events of two years ago.) Some days, retaining my sanity with two kids is not that easy.
My arsenic hour comes around 6 p.m.
This is the time that I'm usually trying to get dinner started as Ryan tends to get home between 6:30 and 7 and we almost always eat around the table as a family.
Preparing dinner means always having a 'helper' as Austin is going through a stage right now where he has to be involved in everything. (And I mean EVERYTHING. I can't go to bathroom some days without him wanting to come in with me and flush the toilet for me.) So, whatever I'm making in the kitchen, he has to get up on his stool and start 'helping'. Sometimes he spins the lettuce for me; sometimes he puts the pre-chopped vegetables in the salad bowl for me; sometimes he helps me grate cheese; but most of the time he grabs a wooden spoon and pretends to use it like a knife.
This means banging it on the counter over and over again.
This is usually around the time that he starts talking louder -- because he needs to be heard over the sound of the banging -- and Alex, who is playing on the floor, decides it's time to be picked up.
Here's a typical image for you: Austin banging away on the counter with a wooden spoon yelling, and me chopping vegetables or cooking something on the stove holding a baby on my left hip.
Cooking like this sure brings multi-tasking to a whole new level. And I finally, truly understand, the arsenic hour expression.
She explained that the arsenic hour usually falls in the late afternoon -- sometime between 4 and 7 p.m. and is almost always before dinner -- when the kid (or kids) are wired and/or hungry and/or over-stimulated and can be annoying as hell. In other words, a perfect cocktail to drive any mother crazy.
The expression, she said, was one her mother used to use, and the part that made me laugh was when my mom said she was never sure if the arsenic hour meant the kids were so crazy you wanted to feed them arsenic or you wanted to take it yourself.
As I've been learning these past few months, having one baby is easy compared to having a baby and a two-year-old. With one baby, no matter how fussy he was being, I could still manage to get things done and retain my sanity. (Or at least, that's how my memory recalls events of two years ago.) Some days, retaining my sanity with two kids is not that easy.
My arsenic hour comes around 6 p.m.
This is the time that I'm usually trying to get dinner started as Ryan tends to get home between 6:30 and 7 and we almost always eat around the table as a family.
Preparing dinner means always having a 'helper' as Austin is going through a stage right now where he has to be involved in everything. (And I mean EVERYTHING. I can't go to bathroom some days without him wanting to come in with me and flush the toilet for me.) So, whatever I'm making in the kitchen, he has to get up on his stool and start 'helping'. Sometimes he spins the lettuce for me; sometimes he puts the pre-chopped vegetables in the salad bowl for me; sometimes he helps me grate cheese; but most of the time he grabs a wooden spoon and pretends to use it like a knife.
This means banging it on the counter over and over again.
This is usually around the time that he starts talking louder -- because he needs to be heard over the sound of the banging -- and Alex, who is playing on the floor, decides it's time to be picked up.
Here's a typical image for you: Austin banging away on the counter with a wooden spoon yelling, and me chopping vegetables or cooking something on the stove holding a baby on my left hip.
Cooking like this sure brings multi-tasking to a whole new level. And I finally, truly understand, the arsenic hour expression.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Pumpkin pie anyone?
The strangest thing came out of my mouth the other day. Ryan and I were at the pumpkin patch with the kids when suddenly, I looked at the small pumpkins designated as 'cooking pumpkins' and said "it can't be that hard to make a pumpkin pie, can it?"
At this point, I think Ryan was left at a loss for words.
For those of you who know me, I don't like baking. In fact, my dislike of it was subject of a blog post about two years ago. I enjoy eating baked treats, but actually doing the work is not my thing. Attempts to bake anything that didn't come out of a mix box has almost always resulted in hockey puck brownies or burnt cookies.
Then a funny thing happened this summer. I had some overripe bananas and rather than throw them out like I usually do, I opened a cookbook, found a recipe for chocolate chip banana loaf and made it before I could talk myself out of what I was doing.
And it turned out good. So good in fact, that Ryan later suggested that I should make it again sometime. I wasn't sure which was more surprising -- the fact that I baked, or the fact that Ryan suggested I make it again sometime!
And about a month later, I did. This time with Austin's help. So, in the space of a month, I went from hating baking to undertaking the task of baking with a two-year-old. Surprisingly, we both had fun and I intend to do it again.
Then, a few weeks ago, we had dinner with some friends and I offered to bring dessert. To everyone who knows me -- that means I'll go to the grocery store and pick something up. But instead, the trip to the grocery store was to buy apples to make an apple crisp. I baked for someone other than my family on my own volition and without coercion. And it turned out pretty good, I think.
For the record, it was my mother's recipe and if my mother can make it, then it has to be easy. (Sorry mom, but you're not a baker either.)
I may have only made the same treat twice and a simple dessert, but the key here is I've done it, and I had fun doing so.
And apparently, I want to try making a pumpkin pie. Anyone have a good recipe?
At this point, I think Ryan was left at a loss for words.
For those of you who know me, I don't like baking. In fact, my dislike of it was subject of a blog post about two years ago. I enjoy eating baked treats, but actually doing the work is not my thing. Attempts to bake anything that didn't come out of a mix box has almost always resulted in hockey puck brownies or burnt cookies.
Then a funny thing happened this summer. I had some overripe bananas and rather than throw them out like I usually do, I opened a cookbook, found a recipe for chocolate chip banana loaf and made it before I could talk myself out of what I was doing.
And it turned out good. So good in fact, that Ryan later suggested that I should make it again sometime. I wasn't sure which was more surprising -- the fact that I baked, or the fact that Ryan suggested I make it again sometime!
And about a month later, I did. This time with Austin's help. So, in the space of a month, I went from hating baking to undertaking the task of baking with a two-year-old. Surprisingly, we both had fun and I intend to do it again.
Then, a few weeks ago, we had dinner with some friends and I offered to bring dessert. To everyone who knows me -- that means I'll go to the grocery store and pick something up. But instead, the trip to the grocery store was to buy apples to make an apple crisp. I baked for someone other than my family on my own volition and without coercion. And it turned out pretty good, I think.
For the record, it was my mother's recipe and if my mother can make it, then it has to be easy. (Sorry mom, but you're not a baker either.)
I may have only made the same treat twice and a simple dessert, but the key here is I've done it, and I had fun doing so.
And apparently, I want to try making a pumpkin pie. Anyone have a good recipe?
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Multi-purpose toys
So that I would have a second one for the basement, a friend of mine loaned me her excersaucer for Alex. It's a simple one, with no toys attached to it. Instead, it just has a tray all around where I can put toys for her to play with. She seems to love it because she can easily spin around in the seat and throw all her toys off.But it was while she was spinning in the seat, that the warning label on the back caught my eye.
The label reads:
- Never leave child alone. (Ok, that one's pretty obvious although I do tend to do so from time to time. I mean, the excersaucer is the perfect place to plop her down when I need to go to the bathroom.)
- Never use near stairs. (Again, pretty obvious.)
- Never use in or near swimming pools or other bodies of water. (Near swimming pools make sense -- just like never use near stairs -- but IN swimming pools? What would possess someone to put this IN a pool?)
- Never use as a flotation device. (Again, what would possess you to think this can float?)
- Never use as a sled. (Huh?)
- Do not fill saucer with water. (And why would you want to?)
- Do not store outdoors in in sunlight. (Sure, whatever.)
- Keep child away from ranges, radiators, space heaters, fireplaces. (Again, pretty obvious.)
Good to know we've been warned against it.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Getting paid to throw things out
With the renovation of our backyard completed earlier this summer, there was one major thing left to do -- removing the old patio stones.Since the May long weekend, these two foot by two foot stones have been leaning against the side of my house collecting dirt, becoming a home for bug colonies and generally taking up space. But forgetfulness, laziness and a little bit of miscommunication made the stay all summer long.
You see, I thought Ryan said he was going to dump them. And he thought I was going to put them on Craigslist because I once made a quick comment to that regard. Whichever we were going to do, neither of us did anything, and they sat there.
Until last week when I got tired of them and posted them on Craigslist. I didn't have much hope of selling them -- it is afterall almost October -- but I figured what the heck. The worst that could happen is that no one showed interest and the stones continue to sit there all fall and winter.
In my posting, I did not quote a price. Instead, I told interested buyers to 'make an offer'. The only catch was, whoever wanted them, had to come pick them up.
And, within three hours I had five offers and by the next morning I had 10 more! After quickly mulling through them, I e-mailed back the guy who offered me $60 for all 40 stones. And the morning after that, he pulled up into my driveway and hauled them all away.
In other words, I had these heavy stones removed from the side of my house and I was given $60 for this effort. Whereas, to throw them out, Ryan was going to have to haul them to the dump himself and then pay the City for the right to dump them.
Let me tell you...I'm now looking around my house for any other so-called garbage I can have someone pick up and pay me for.
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