Little K has hit another milestone in life. I stopped hauling his carseat everywhere. He now sits all by himself in the front of the shopping cart eyeballing all the shoppers around him and straining to reach whatever is close enough for him to yank off the shelf. I have so much fun shopping with him, I barely notice what’s going on around me and I sit and chat with him even though he’s not quite able to chat back. “Where do you think they hide the mayo, kid?” “Do you want turkey and rice or chicken and apples?”
When I went into Target the other day though, I noticed a mom putting a baby seat into the shopping cart. I peered into the carseat and saw a very new, very sweet little girl. Her momma was inspecting and reinspecting the way the carseat latched and then, when all looked well, she pushed the cart off into the produce area, all the while in her own little bubble. She was beaming (both momma and baby) and each only had eyes for the other.
It made me feel very nostalgic for a time that was only a season ago. I can remember the first time E and I took Little K to the store and how many people remarked about how tiny he was. I’m sure we had that bubble around us too. Walking in a daze, bumping into endcaps, grinning like a fool. It’s funny how the everyday, mundane tasks – like grocery shopping – can become such special little moments between momma and baby. In the not-to-far future, Little K will want to walk on his own and I’ll miss the squirming, grabby, handle-sucking baby in the front of my cart. Until then, I’m happy to enjoy the bubble.
When I met E he had really tall hair. Like no one ever told him to trim his frizzy hair shorter than 3 inches and use pomade. It wasn’t the best look for him, but luckily I looked past that and looked at what counted. That’s what you need to do here. Look past the uglier than 3-inch tall hair, to the amazing, fresh, yummy flavor. (Recipe here, from Bean By Bean: A Cookbook.)
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(© Chet Haase 2006-2013, all rights reserved.)
They say that Sunday should be a day of rest, right? Well I’m happy to oblige. My day started off with sleeping in until 9am. Yeah, my baby slept from 7pm to 9am (he woke up for a snack at 5, but right back down again). Woot, woot! If feeding Little K puréed peas and oatmeal leads to me sleeping in until 9am, I’m all for it. Once I was up I spent the morning sipping coffee with E and playing with Little K. I didn’t even get out of my pjs until 11 or so. When I finally was scrubbed up and put together it was nearly time for me to head over to the one and only to-do I had on my agenda for the day: an hour long massage.
Since Little K was born E has been demanding that I book a massage for myself. He was insistent, resilient, determined. I said I was relaxed enough, I didn’t need to spend the money, I didn’t want to miss time with Little K, I had the mumps… Nothing deterred this guy! Finally, I broke down and made the appointment. The horror! He badgered me so much, that I had to book an hour long massage for myself. Ugh.
Well the massage was this afternoon and it was lovely. I am nearly over my cold and the eucalyptus fragrance helped open my sinuses up even more. (I think I’m nearly ready to say my taste is fully restored!) I feel limber, calm, and collected. When I got home I shared a glass of wine with the hubster (who did great watching a mildly fussy Little K and two ridiculously naughty pups) and watched another episode of House of Cards. All-in-all a phenomenal day of rest.
So, in honor of the day of rest, I did nothing in the kitchen! We dined on leftovers and junk food. Instead, I put together this review on an oldie but goodie, one of my favorite soup recipes. (I know, I know, I must be soup obsessed. I made this weeks ago though and just got around to sharing it with you today.)
This recipe was originally in O, The Oprah Magazine, but I found it on SimplyRecipes.com. It’s one of my favorite soups though and has made it into my personal recipe box.
Lets get started, shall we?
Today was another cold day in Minnesota. I mean cold. C.O.L.D. Like 20 below with the windchill. I only just recently realized that there is a great number of people who don’t know what that means. Twenty below. Below what? Below zero, people. It’s friggin’ 20 degrees below zero. Not below freezing, below zero. I won’t belabor this point any further, I think you get the idea.
Well anyhow, at this temperature a mere 5 minutes outside with any exposed skin could result in frostbite on the area. Cue the over-protective mother. My baby was bundled. He had his insulated overalls, his socks and robeez, his gap “russian czar” jacket, and to top it off we cover him with an equally insulated sleeping bag of sorts in his car seat. With all this you’d think maybe he was going to spend more than 30 seconds outside. Well no, he was just going to daycare, but those 30 seconds of walking from the car to the daycare door are dangerous, people. Be careful.
So I made sure Little K was warm and bundled, but what about E and I? Well I should think it’s pretty obvious. We had soup for dinner. It’s no surprise to me that my first review is of Pioneer Woman. I make something from her at least once a week (and I have the hips to prove it, thankyouverymuch). And tonight I made her Sherried Tomato Soup from The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl, though it’s on her website here. I served it with a smoked gouda grilled cheese sandwich and a pickle. Oh, and wine. The recipe calls for sherry. I had white wine and a wine glass. What do you expect from me?! Honestly. Continue reading