Ants Behaving Badly

I'd like to think I've got a bit of St. Francis in me. I mean, for the most part I like all of God's creatures, and I have a pretty notable respect for life, generally speaking. Exception to this rule: I despise snakes because they're evil and scary and sneaky and they remind me of, oh you know, HELL. In fact, that is my definition of hell. Just a whole "hell" of a lot of snakes slithering around. But I don't bother them and they stay away from me, so we're cool. And while we're going there, I should mention that I really don't understand the POINT for flies to even be in existence, but thankfully we have screens on all our windows and sliding glass door. In the unfortunate event that one sneaks in, I tolerate the occasional perpetrator and roll with it. Or I make Dan kill it with a rolled up magazine, depending on my irritation level.

But the million-member ant army that ruthlessly invaded my beautiful clean kitchen last night/this morning? They can all die. In fact, they did. They're dead. ALL 2.6 MILLION OF THEM.

Here are words you do not typically want to hear from your 3 year old son at 6:45 am (who likes to get up at the crack of dawn and help himself to breakfast hors d’oeuvres hour):
"Mommy! Come check it out! There's LOTS AND LOTS of bees! All over the floor!" *

This shot me up and out of bed quicker than the smell of bacon.

There, waiting to greet us was the ant infantry. (*Because when you're 3, you are still learning insect-ology basics, including how to decipher between bees, flies, ants, spiders, and roley-poley bugs. Cut him some slack, it's a lot to learn in 3 years.) We were completely ambushed. They were not joking around, these ant imbeciles. If we hadn't caught them when we did, I'm fairly certain they would have commenced laying out booby traps. Needless to say, they were in full swing, attacking everything from the counter tops to the highchair (which I TOTALLY cleaned after dinner) to the bar stools to the random little innocent crumb that dropped on the floor after dinner. But the worst part....the very WORST PART....the part that kills me just a little bit inside, every time I think about it....they came for my fresh, organic, newborn, beautiful, made from scratch strawberry-rhubarb crisp. I KNOW! Do you need a minute to recover, like I did? It hurts, I know it. Go ahead, take a moment.

Before some of you begin thinking I'm too emotionally attached and involved with my food, let me just say a few words about this crisp. It's inception was quite sweet, really- Dan & I had both been ready for something fantastic to end our day with. I had some beautiful organic Driscoll's strawberries (thanks, sis) sitting around waiting to be combined with sugar and rhubarb and butter. And Dan always talks so fondly about the massive amounts of rhubarb that grew wild in his yard as a child. So....being the thoughtful wife I sometimes am, I bought enough rhubarb for a crisp and the TWO OF US TOGETHER in the kitchen made & baked it (a rarity would be an understatement here). We were so excited to pop it in the oven for many obvious reasons, but one being it was FINALLY cool enough in this county to turn on an oven or a stove and start having some kitchen fun again! (By the way, what was all that 101 degree madness we had there for a few days, neighbors? I was not a fan. Oh, and speaking of fans, they totally help. I recommend buying a few so we're all prepared for the next heatwave). We did have a little piece when it came out of the oven, both he & I. But when I say "little" I mean it. You know, because we wanted to pace ourselves and save plenty for the upcoming week. You know, we didn't want to over-indulge or anything. You know, because sometimes the only light at the end of your tunnel-of-a-day is A LITTLE PIECE OF STRAWBERRY RHUBARB CRISP!

And what do the ant idiots decide to do? Storm the kitchen walls, swarm my precious and (might I remind you) barely-eaten crisp and then drown in its sweet berry juices. Oh, for peet's sakes! Couldn't they have attacked and drowned in something a little less sacred?! Who do they think they are? Doesn't it say in the Bible somewhere that Adam & Eve were given complete reign over these creepy-crawlies in the Garden of Eden? Because now those disobedient boogers will have to answer to GOD for their crime! That's right.

So yeah, I'm a little bitter. And you should have seen the revenge that was alllllll mine. There's nothing quite like an angry mom (me) fending for her family in her mis-matched pj's (and disheveled hair and morning breath) attacking the enemy with the Raid bottle like it was my job. In fact, I may have just earned myself the employee of the month award. In fact, I DARE those ants to step foot in this house again. Make that a double-dog dare. You don't even want to see the bottle of Raid I'll be sleeping with under my pillow tonight, just in case.

And so flash-forward to tonight. Now the hubster & I are just walking around pacing the kitchen like a couple of addicts without a stash. Seriously out of luck. I would say it's painful, this deep craving we're experiencing. Just an innocent craving for the days of yore, yearning for a delicious buttery sweet-yet-tart homemade crisp. It's all I've ever wanted.

That...and a dutch oven. (To which I've just reminded myself....thank goodness Christmas is just around the corner) (DAN! See how easy I make it for you?)

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Here's To 31

So, it turns out my imminent 31st birthday is dangerously approaching with some impressive flurry, and this morning I was reflecting on all that's transpired over this last year. Not that I think going from 30 to 31 is really a big deal. Heck, I'm still not even sure of what really changed going from 29 to 30. Well, except for that one little change that included being pregnant with an entire house. Actually, it was a small mansion I was carrying in my belly:

Incidentally, that picture above also pretty much epitomizes how I spent my big 3-0 birthday last year. Pregnant, ginormous, miserable, and exhausted. But still trying to keep a smile on my face. I think even my brain was retaining too much water to really have any deep thoughts on entering a new decade. Unless of course you consider where's the ice cream? and how many more hours until it's November? deep.

But there is quite a bit that happened this past year- my life has had heaps of various experiences, some more exciting than others (two septic back-up problems independent of each other in one year being on the less exciting end of things, of course). And I started making a mental list of all the things I learned and I was struck by what one year can do for a person. The big stuff learned is obviously greatly important, but I'm beginning to understand that it's all the little things we learn along the journey that really are life's gems.

So here are my gems, big & small:

• Living on an apple farm in the middle of nowhere while pregnant is incredibly isolating, and not nearly as romantic as it sounds. It's dirty and dusty and full of wild animals that I didn't even know existed. BUT... I don't know of a better way to shape one's character.
• Getting into your first car accident sure shakes you up and makes you question wearing flip flops while driving. Getting into your second and much, much more severe car accident a month later makes you love your family even more than you thought was possible. And it makes the thought of walking a whole lot more appealing.
  
• High-speed internet access is a gift from heaven.
• After all this time, Sting still moves me. More than ever.
• If you are Italian, your quota of tears to be shed increases with every year you are alive. Seems to be a direct correlation. This is one major difference I've noticed going from age 29 to 30. I'm getting nervous for my children who will one day have to witness their blubbering weepy mother at age 82. It doesn't take much to move me, people.
• Getting stressed and angry does not, in fact, make traffic go away.
• If I have the choice to fine dine in an expensive restaurant or have some margaritas and authentic Mexican food, I'll go with the Mexicana comida authentica. It's just who I am.
• Speaking of Mexican food, I like it very spicy. Surprisingly spicy. I took it to new heights this last year, and I'm proud of how much heat I can handle now that I'm all grown up and in my 30s.
  
• I don't think I will ever become a fan of wearing high heels. I've tried, and my feet are just too picky and prefer to be enveloped in a variety of flip-flops instead.
• Sometimes people are so generous and it's impossible to repay their kindness. Oh, the humility I've been forced to have this last year! So instead I pray for them and hope that once we're in heaven I can repay them, maybe with diamonds and scoops of clouds and a pretty new gold harp.
  
• This will not come as a shock to anyone, but making homemade ice cream is incredibly exciting and interesting to me, and I can't believe I just now started fully utilizing that handy little ice cream maker of ours.
• Having two children, although wonderful and priceless, is definitely more difficult than having one. I cannot believe I ever thought I had it hard with just one. Silly me.
• I like white wine! And I waited 30 years to experiment with this, but I'm glad I did.
• Ceiling fans make a huge difference. Every home should have them.
• Not everyone is going to like me. Heck, some people may even despise me. And that's okay!
• Farmer's Market & I just recently got back together. Not sure really why we broke up in the first place, to be honest. But we've moved forward and we're quite happy together. In fact, I think we bring out the best in one another. Anyway, it's my new happy place. My Disneyland. (Because who can afford to go to Disneyland these days, anyway?! Honestly! I think it's time for Mickey to receive a pay cut so they can cut back their admission fee just a tad. Either that or a free funnel cake with every paid entrance into the park. But that's just me.)
  
• Long distance relationships are possible! One of my very closest friends does not live anywhere near me, and never has. And yet we talk like we're everyday-hang-out friends. And I am completely fulfilled.
  
• Apparently, someone at some point greatly lowered the bar for television standards. And then-- LOST came along! I no longer approach everything that has a science-fiction-y feel to it with complete and total disinterest and rolling of the eyes.
  
• I've been going to my hairdresser for half of my life now. I couldn't say that two years ago. It's funny how I seem to be getting older, but he has stayed the same age. Who knew hair could be so bonding?
  
• Technically, we moved twice this past year. Which is difficult. BUT! With both of these moves (and of course the four that proceeded it) we learned what it means to get rid of our crap and live off of less! What a gift!
  
• We're teaching Ben how to say his prayers in bed at night, and every time he thanks God for his Oma & Opa, I get a little lump in my throat. The physical distance between us & Dan's family and parents affects me more and more each day. This life is so precious and short. And I wish I could relish in their presence a bit more than our pocketbooks allow.
• And finally, I am incredibly blessed. Over this past year I have witnessed and received more generosity, love, support, encouragement, and compassion than I knew was possible in a lifetime. I wish that I could bestow the same love & affection upon all of you, too. Life is really difficult at times, isn't it? But then I look around and see who I am surrounded by and what I've been given and I realize...it is really good to be me, here and now. It's really good to be (almost) 31.
  

A New Perspective

This morning at breakfast:

Ben: (after taking a bite of yogurt and making a horrible face) Ewwwww. I don't really like this yogurt.

Me: Well, I'm sorry to hear that. That's the only kind we have so you can either eat that yogurt or have nothing. You choose.

Ben: (taking another bite, then thinking hard for a good 10 seconds) Oh, Mama! I really like this yogurt! It's pretty great!

Since You've All Been Asking.....

...and by that, I mean since all two of you have asked...

I'm unlocking the old recipe vault and sharing my World Famous Eggplant Parmesan recipe that has been in my family for...um, a long time. I must give many props to my mom for this. She still to this day makes THE BEST eggplant parmesan you've ever sunk your teeth into. She & I do ours pretty much the same way, but for some reason hers always turns out 100 times better. I think it's because she sprinkles it with all of her Mom love. And maybe there's a secret ingredient that she's refusing to disclose. In any case, her eggplant is what most of my siblings & I request for our special birthday dinner. That's right. We still request certain things on our birthdays that only Mom can make. Anyway, our version is somewhat healthy because we BAKE our breaded eggplant instead of frying. And trust me, you'll never know the difference.....

*Note: It's about to become blatantly obvious that I do not frequently write recipes. This looks a heck of a lot longer & more difficult than it really is. I just tend to overuse words and error on the side of being too thorough. Probably because I spent so many years teaching & directing preschool aged children, and they need more guidance and directions than you would ever believe. Okay, on to the recipe.
Eggplant Parmesan

Ingredients:
2 medium eggplants
2 jars of good tomato sauce (I feel very strongly about using vodka sauce- Trader Joe's has a great organic one that is to die for. Super creamy and delicious)
About 4 Ovolini balls (each ball is 4 oz. of fresh mozzarella) OR 4 cups shredded mozzarella
Breadcrumbs, (enough for dredging) plus 1 cup for topping
2 or 3 eggs
1/2 c. parmesan cheese
about 1/2 c. olive oil, plus enough for drizzling on top
3 cloves of garlic, smashed

Directions:

Peel eggplants and slice into about 1/4-1/2" slices. Lay out onto paper towels in a single layer and sprinkle each slice liberally with salt. Let sit for about 30 minutes so that the salt will draw out the moisture in the eggplant. Then rinse your eggplant slices under cold water to rinse off salt, pat dry and set aside.

Put your olive oil (1/2 cup more or less....can always add more) in microwave safe dish (I use a Pyrex measuring cup for this part) and put in 3 cloves smashed garlic. Microwave on very very low power setting, for about a minute at a time. The point is to slowly infuse the olive oil with the smashed garlic. Give it a stir, then microwave again and repeat this process until garlic is VERY soft. (You can skip the microwave method and infuse on the stove, but I think this is just so much easier).

Preheat oven to 350.
Use a brush to liberally coat a cookie sheet pan with your garlic infused olive oil.
Break eggs into dish, add a little water and stir well to break up.
In another dish, pour enough breadcrumbs for dredging your eggplant (at least 1-2 cups, you can add more as needed. Also, I use pie dishes for both the egg mixture and the breadcrumb mixture- works v. well). Stir about 1/4 cup of parmesan cheese into breadcrumb mixture.

Begin the assembly line: 1) dip slices into egg 2) dip into breadcrumbs to coat both sides, 3) place on olive oil cookie sheet. Once all your slices are breaded, take your brush again to liberally top each slice with olive oil. Bake for 10 minutes; turn each slice over and return to oven for 10 more minutes.

Once all eggplant slices have baked and are now golden and crispy and beautiful, begin the assembly into your baking dish. I usually use a (greased with cooking spray) 9x13 dish. Start with a thin layer of tomato sauce, then one layer or eggplant slices, layer of tomato sauce, and then layer of mozzarella. Continue this pattern until all slices have been used. After the final layer of mozzarella is completed, top with 1/4 cup of parmesan cheese. Scatter the 1 cup of bread crumbs over the cheese and drizzle liberally with oil. Bake until the top is golden and forms a crust, about 35-40 min.

Make sure to sop up all the goodness leftover on your plate with some tasty crusty bread! Enjoy. And then tell me all about it.

Watsonville, May I Have a Word With You?

Image by Mulsanne via Flickr

**FYI, if this already seems a bit outdated it's because I wrote this a few days ago, when the Santa Cruz fire was barely contained and reeking havoc on everyone...mostly me.


I'm really trying not to come off looking like a whiny bellyacher here, but may I just share something? It doesn't take much to make me happy. For example, I would be happy to live the duration of my life on a strict diet of tacos and margaritas. And I usually don't hold grudges, even with people who drive with sheer stupidity, because ordinarily I just like to give them the benefit of the doubt. You know, like.....Wow. That crazy mean lady driving like a bat out of hell must just be in labor and needs to get to a hospital ASAP, or something. I'd like to think I try to see the good and the upside to almost everything.

Buuuuuut...

Today, I am not happy. This whole Santa Cruz fire fiasco which is responsible for ridiculous volumes of smoke, ash, haze, and bizarre day-time-darkness is beginning to take its toll on my body. I'm serious. I've never had such a strong and violent urge to scratch my eyes out and my poor little throat is so raw, it feels like I accidentally doused my coffee with a little bleach this morning instead of my daily dose of half-and-half. And every time my kids sneeze or their respiratory systems show even the slightest sign of irritation or fatigue, I feel compelled to profusely apologize for not providing clean air for their tee tiny lungs. Mama's sorry, kiddos. I can't fix this little pickle that we're in. BUT I CAN BLOG AND COMPLAIN ABOUT IT!

Speaking of complaints, not that I want to keep them coming or anything, but since we're already here......

So there's this little farm behind our backyard. As in, on the other side of our backyard fence, there are acres of crops growing. Which is awesome, because our view is gorgeous and we are surrounded by beautiful trees and greenery and peacefulness instead of houses and neighbors. However....with farming comes...manure. Naturally. And I'm not really sure how this all came to be, but on the one day, THE ONE DAY when the smoke and humidity and poor air quality came to a dreadful climactic peak, our neighbor, (we'll just call him Farmer Bob) decided that THIS would be the perfect day to spread yards of manure. All over his farm. Piles and piles of steamy, foul, repugnant potent manure, mixed in and pounded into the soil with his big noisy tractor. The same farm that BACKS RIGHT UP TO OUR YARD. I think you know where this is going. Muggy day + lots of fire smoke + fire ash + heat + a ton of manure = torture. And frankly, I'm a bit irritable. And I can't even utilize my clothesline because I'm afraid all that smoke ash and manure stench will permeate our clothes. And then people will point and stare at us when we walk by, and we'll become The Stinky Family.

Anyway, I know Farmer Bob is not alone here. I know my little town well enough to know that we are surrounded by farms, and I know they've all got deadlines to follow and crops to fertilize and produce to sell and a profit to make. But, here's a humble little piece of advice. ARE YOU LISTENING, FARMER BOB? Maybe next time there's a fire in our county, you could all consider throwing down the massive piles of cow dung AFTER the flames have settled down? Call me crazy, but I think your crops would be more receptive to ulterior methods of fertilization, too. Sooooo, maybe? Please? My family, my nose & my sanity would SO appreciate it. Thanks.

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R.I.P.

I have a feeling this is the day that Ben will look back on and say, "That day. That's the one that made me realize I needed to seek professional help. To heal the wound that my mother willingly inflicted upon me. And so, here I am. My first day of therapy."

Today is the day we (I) implemented a new rule called NO MORE PLAYDOUGH INSIDE THE HOUSE. At least not until my kids are over the age of 9 (because over the age of 9 you're old enough to know how to not make giant messes. Right?). Before any of you judge me for being the meanest mother on earth, and for those of you who've not been to my house, let me paint the picture. We live in an older house. You know, the kind where it seemed perfectly reasonable to have CARPETING in the dining area. So every time Ben begs and pleads to do playdough, I have the same internal dialogue, arguing with myself, trying to weigh the consequences of allowing neon sticky substances to be in such close proximity with our very lightly colored tan carpeting.

But today, I was all, "Um. Sure. Since Ella's asleep, this is a good time to do it. Just be really really REALLY careful to keep all the playdough on the table and off of the carpet, okay?" And oh my goodness, you would have thought I just handed Ben the world. The smile! The glee! The surprise! The anticipation! So I let him have at it. And I was really enjoying the almost 60 minutes of peace and quiet that it provided, so I really thought it was a win-win decision I had made. I was patting myself on the back and telling myself how impressed I was with...myself. And I even helped Ben clean up the clumps of playdough on the table. And I even cheerfully took out the vacuum to get all the little crumbs that innocently fell to the floor. And I was like, Wow. That wasn't so bad. What was I all paranoid about? I'm such a goo-

And then I walked down the hallway to put something away.

Ummmm, what's with the neon green playdough in the hallway?

And then I walked into Ella's room. Ummmm, what's with the neon green playdough plastered to the carpet fibers in her bedroom?

And then I went to the living room. WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON WITH THIS AWFUL NEON GREEN STUFF ALL OVER THE PLACE????

Apparently Ben is a magnet for sticky neon substances and inadvertently (albeit innocently) tracked it in every room of our house. And that's when the Wrath of Mom struck. I had no choice but to put a semi-permanent ban on all inside use of colored & sticky dough-like substances. I just don't have the tolerance (or desire or energy) to have my free time dominated by becoming far too familiar with carpet cleaners and spot removers and using my elbow grease to remove these awful little splots.

I mean, can you blame me? If this house had wall-to-wall tile or wood flooring, it really would be another story. But this whole playdough/light carpet combination is just an invitation for disaster! And I'm not very good with disasters.

And so, we'll miss you, indoor playdough. Thanks for all the memories. We hope to see you again- maybe when the kids are older and more aware of their surrounding and their messes. In the meantime, I'm taking matters in my own hands. Just wait, I'll come up with a carpet resistant version of playdough and patent that baby ASAP. And all y'all will all thank me profusely and buy stock in my company.

A Good Choice

Tonight I was parenting alone while Dan was away working hard at his weekly rehearsal (bless him). Instead of cleaning up dinner and doing the dishes and being busy with tedious evening housework up until it was Ben's bedtime, I spent that entire block of time doing a giant floor puzzle with him.

I will never regret that decision. It was 90 minutes of our lives that I'll never ever get back, and I couldn't have spent it a better way. And I'm positive the feeling was mutual.

Also, children's puzzles are not nearly as easy as you'd think. "For ages 3+" MY BOOTY!

Busy Bodies, Part 1

I know, I know. Where the heck have I been the past 6 days, right? Oh my, I had no idea August would be so full of social engagements! I was starting to feel very un-social, and then August completely restored my popularity self-esteem! Thanks, August! I think it's about that time for one of my very general meander-ish type of blog posting today. You know, some pictures, a few random updates, perhaps a recipe link or two.

Here goes.

First of all, it sure is convenient when your children begin taking baths together! Thank goodness for this handy dandy bath seat apparatus that Ella now relaxes in during her spa-treatment of a bath time (every mother should invest in this. EDITH, THIS MEANS YOU. Though I suppose you do have a little bit of time). Also, Ben & Ella have sort of learned the art form of playing together! It only took 9 months, but it seems they're getting the hang of it. This is an answer to every prayer and hope I've had the last 9 months. If Ben could only be a bit more gentle, and Ella a bit less sensitive, it would almost be a playmate match in heaven.

Secondly, isn't he just the cutest? Whenever I feel anything to the contrary and I'm frustrated with him and on the verge of listing him on Ebay, ready at the post office to ship him out to the highest bidder, I force myself to look at this picture and count to ten. He melts me every single time. HOWEVER, it should be noted that Ben has picked up a nasty new little habit called lying. It's awful, and it's driving me nuts (and I'm sure my parents would call this karma). At first it was a little bit funny because when you're 3 years old, you have no concept of how to lie well. I mean, I ask him a question that I already know the answer to, and he is so transparent in his response. For example, "Hey Ben, did you just open Ella's door while she's napping." To which he'll reply, "Ummmmmmm.......No? No, I didn't?"
Hm.
Interesting.
You'd think after all the many years of experience working with children and the background I have in Early Childhood Education, I'd have some really great method or solution for this sort of problem. And yet, the only thing that this Mother of the Year is coming up with these days is: "Well, just remember what happened to our little friend Pinocchio. Lying didn't seem to work too well for him, now did it?"

I know. Impressive disciplinarian skills, right? Which leads me to this little side note: if anyone has any good solutions for this lying thing, PLEASE please please throw them my way. We need help. It turns out he's way smarter than we gave him credit for. But, this is just a small little phase and it will all be over in a couple weeks, right guys? Right???? WHAT????? Hee hee.


Moving right along, last Wednesday was a major event in me & Dan's lives. We went to see a Phish show! This experience in and of itself could be its own blog posting. In fact, perhaps I'll do just that at another time. You deserve to hear some of the hilarious details of the events that occurred that evening. It's a whole other world at these live shows, but I will say that it was one of my top 10 favorite nights of all time. You read that right. TOP 10, baby! It was SO WONDERFUL to have a night out with my wonderful husband (plus one of my best friends plus my wonderful bro-in-law, plus one of Dan's colleagues) and dance for hours upon hours with every hippie that resides in the Bay area! I did a lot of dancing and laughing and sweating, and when water bottles are $5 A PIECE (do they KNOW what water costs everywhere else in the world???!), I experienced some major dehydration. But it was all worth it. One of the best shows of my life. Thanks for getting back together, Phish!


Next, I should forewarn you that although this pretty baby girl looks sweet and oh-so-innocent- it turns out she's a little bit nutty! Must be those Dewig genes. Anyway, she is crawling like a crazy lady, and pulling herself up on EVERYTHING, and standing and oh my goodness are we in for it! She is so much busier than Ben was at this age. I don't know if it's the second child syndrome or that she's a girl, or a combination of the two. But we laugh at her pretty much all day long. These days she reminds me of one of those overly-zealous and overly-energized aerobics instructors that smiles alot and keeps yelling at you to work harder! Sweat more! Feel the burn! Go for the gold! That's Ella.

Last Saturday, my sister, mom & I went to a bridal shower for a very dear, long-time friend of mine, and I left the shower on the most wonderful high. I was completely overwhelmed with joy and gratitude for her and her precious family (who, by the way, should absolutely look into going into the shower-throwing business. Everything was exquisite perfection.) This is a family that we have been close to since before I was born- over 30 years now, which officially makes her my oldest friend (to clarify- not oldest as in she's 90 or something. She's who I've been friends with the longest). She & I practically knew each other in utero, and it just warmed my heart to see her so happy and so in love with a man who is actually worthy of a girl of her caliber! She is a rock solid girl, completely self-less and has lived a life devoted to helping others, cracking people up with her hysterical personality, totally committed to her faith, her family and loved ones. It's my personal opinion that people like this deserve all the happiness and love in the world! CONGRATULATIONS, MISS JENNY! We all cannot wait to see what lies ahead for you and your hubby-to-be. You guys are going to make the most fantastic team!

I'm going to end this right about now, as my tummy is violently growling at me, and nothing gives me Blog Block like a deep hunger. For the record, I think I will whip up some tuna salad, my current favorite go-to lunch when I'm in a pinch. Part 2 of this blog will arrive hopefully in the next few days. But for now, it's time for some tuna, some dinner prep and maybe even some (*gasp*) "me" time. Happy Monday!

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Reincarnation

Image via Wikipedia

Tonight I realized that somehow along the way, Ben has picked up the underlying fundamentals of the whole reincarnation theory, especially as it relates to me. We were in a rush to get in the car and oh-for-peet's-sakes-let's-just-hurry-up-and-GO-already, and I was alone and flustered with trying to get both kids in the car, buckled in and happy. Here's what went down:

Me: Ben, hurry up. You can open the car door all by yourself. Hop into your car seat, and after I'm done buckling Ella in, I'll come around and help you get buckled. Hurry! You can do it!

Ben: But Maaaaaama, remember when you used to be a little boy, and I was the mommy? I would always open your door and help you get into your car seat, remember? That's why you have to help ME, Mommy.

Namaste, my son.

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A Small Dose of Tough Love

Dear Trader Joe's,

As you are well aware, I've got nothing but mad love for you. I've been faithful to you for years. You've seen me at my best. You've seen me at my worst. You've inspired hundreds of meals, and I'm sure over the years you've saved me hundreds of dollars. I've stood by you when others attempted to criticize you for your small, petty imperfections. I drive 3 whole towns away just to get to you. But we need to have a little chat which, frankly, is long overdue.

I'll make it quick and as painless as possible: if y'all can't get your produce act together, I may be forced to make a permanent switch to your arch nemesis market. You know the one. She's new in town, and rhymes with Bowl Dudes.

I try not to be a complainer, and I KNOW you know that I'm far from high maintenance, but is it too much to ask to provide fruits and vegetables that haven't sprouted mold just in the time it takes to bring them home? I mean honestly! I bought 1 lb. of your beautiful organic apricots yesterday afternoon, and used them all up this morning for this amazing treat, and I'm sure you can only imagine my disgust and disappointment when I discovered that close to half of the batch were riddled with mold on the inside. And don't even ask me to give you other examples which may or may not include your cherry tomatoes and strawberries. You should know better, Trader Joe's!

Remember, I'm trying to be gentle.

This brings my Tough Love reprimand to an end. I believe in you, and I know you are capable of greater produce. It's not that I want to leave you, but I also really don't want any more moldy foods. And so, if I may quote the Beatles, I believe We Can Work it Out.

Love & expectations,
Nicole

P.S. Please don't ever raise your prices on your Trader Joe's Coastal Sauvignon Blanc. We give you two thumbs up in this department. In fact the two thumbs are so far up, that they almost come close to redeeming you for your moldy produce offenses. Almost.