30 August 2012

Sweater Weather

It's 90 degrees outside and I'm dreaming of fall.  This sweet little French hen might be just the thing for the crisp mornings that (I hope) are just around the corner. 
[source]

27 August 2012

Delicious!

I We made it through the first week of school unscathed and are ready for a new week.  Much of last week's success was due to a spectacular soup.  Soup is a favorite in our house.  Nate likes it because we can make healthy, vegetable-laden vats.  I like it because we can make vats, which lead to leftovers; leftovers make me a very happy lady. 

Needless to say, when I found this beautiful lasagna soup over at A Farmgirl's Dabbles, I was intrigued and knew that it was the perfect soup for a busy week.  Truly, it's so good that you can ignore the fact that you are eating a steaming bowl of soup when it feels like a suana outside.  We made it on Sunday and were more than happy to eat it over and over and over again. 

I'm sure the soup would have been perfect as written.  I'm a tweaker by nature, so we made a few tiny changes.  We only used a pound of sausage and ladled the soup atop a bed of freshly steamed spinach.  There were no bay leaves in the cupboard, thus no bay leaves in the soup.  And we didn't make the "cheesy yum"--not exactly.  A dollop of ricotta and a sprinkle of parmesean gave us the cheesy goodness without an extra bowl to wash.   

23 August 2012

Vroom! Vroom!

Henry loves just about anything on wheels.  The car and the stroller have been favorites since the beginning.  Lately he has started to push his toy cars and dumptruck around and completes his playtime with little "vroom vroom" sounds.  Adorable.  And now the little man has his own set of wheels. 
so pensive.  riding a trike is serious business.
If you're in the market for a new trike, I highly recommend the Radio Flyer.

19 August 2012

Back to School (or Why I Don't Exercise)

School starts on Monday; I'm excited and ready.  I like being in my classroom, coming up with new lessons, and socializing.  I work with my closest friends and my dear aunt.  There are no dull moments and no day is the same.  It's busy, fun, sometimes overwhelming, and always rewarding.
messy desk, clean desk.  
There is a flip side to this happy little work life:  Henry.  The (sometimes harsh) reality of working is that your precious, sweet, only little once, bundle of joy spends the majority of his (or her!) time being cared for by someone else.  The first day that Henry went to daycare, I dashed to fetch him as soon as the dismissal bell rang.  I carted him home, snuggled up with him on the couch, and promptly burst into tears when I realized that...wait for it...he smelled like someone other than me!  I was ready then and there to write a letter of resignation and never leave my baby again.  Fortunately, I returned to work the next day and the next and the next and before I knew it, we had settled into a happy little routine and Henry was being loved at school by his sweet teachers and at home by Nate and me.

We kept to our routine pretty well over the summer, so starting back to school won't be too much of a shock to our system.  It will be a shock to the clean house, but that's another story.  Our routine is finely tuned and keeps my on my toes, quite literally.  There are days during the school year that I don't sit down until after Henry is in bed.  This is what a typical weekday looks like:
I'm sort of tired just thinking about it.  But, I have a new set of pens, easy dinners planned, and my clothes picked out for the week.  Let the games year begin!

16 August 2012

Oh yeah, Henry turned 1!

Henry turned one this past Friday.  I could wax poetic about the momentous day and the quick passing of his first year, but it wouldn't quite be true.  We had a quiet day and a happy celebration, just the three of us.  We ate pizza and carrot cake and Henry was in bed by 7, like always.  We spent the weekend taking walks, playing inside and out, and Henry got a new tooth.  It was all very mundane and perfectly joyful, just like every other day and that makes me glad.  It was so mundane, in fact, that I have yet to upload any photos from the day.  They will come, just as soon as I can tear myself away from dumptrucks and spoons and other fun things!   

The Underbelly

And so it continues...

There is a lot of old brick, crumbly wood, and dirt.  Oh, the dirt!  I'm pretty sure I saw an animal bone or two (or maybe an elephant's tusk!) down there, but I didn't want to look too closely.  Happily, the end is in sight. 

08 August 2012

Milk (mustache)

I started fretting over the imminent switch to whole milk when Henry was about 9 months old. I'm good at fretting and like to indulge in a healthy dose every now and then. I read and read and read.  I developed a plan. It was simple: we would begin a slow transition at 11 months and he would be drinking nothing but milk by the time his first birthday rolled around.  Happily, Henry was already drinking his formula with meals out of a straw cup, so the timing and procedure didn't present anything new.

Nature had other plans.  

On a pleasant Friday afternoon, I drove by Target and thought that I really should stop and pick up some formula (Henry was drinking the Up&Up generic and we were down to a few remaining scoops).  I rationalized that we would undoubtedly need something else later in the weekend; it would be prudent to wait.  And then the derecho swept through and my prudent plans blew out the window.  Target lost power and we had no more formula.  I did what anyone with power and a carefully detailed transition-to-milk plan would do: I found an operating grocery store and bought milk.  The boy needed a drink, after all!  Drink he did and we bid a quick farewell to formula and to my fretting, which had all been for naught.
 
The best part of Henry's new affair with milk is that we now have delicious, creamy whole milk in the house. A longtime soy (with a short splash of almond and oat) milk devotee, I have rediscovered just how wonderful a bowl of cereal with real milk can be!

07 August 2012

Hello, old girl!

I returned home from a happy morning spent papering my bulletin boards at school to this:

Our dear house, stripped down and fully exposed to the street and the passersby.  Poor old girl!
What started as a simple "hey, let's redo the porch floor boards!" has quickly morphed into "let's tear off the front of the house and start over!" (insert rapidly beating heart and shortness of breath here).  That's the problem with old homes. They look so darn pretty with all of their antique makeup on, and then you peel back the layers and...yikes!  Wrinkles and age spots everywhere!  I'm sure all of the reconstructive surgery will be worth it if we end up with something that even remotely resembles the beauties I've seen on Pinterest.
With any luck, I'll be updating soon with sunny photos of our little family, happily nestled on our new, tastefully decorated porch.  And by tastefully decorated, I mean an art easel for Henry and a folding chair; a decorator I am not!

04 August 2012

La Plage

We just spent a glorious week at the beach.  I realize just how fortunate we are to have had a week-long vacation, full of sun, water, naps, and delicious food.  But?  A week away from home with a babe and a 10 hour drive on each end?  Ahem.  That is not vacation.  It is crazy and fun and exciting and exhausting and something that I can't wait to do again!  Happily, Gam came along for the ride and made the experience all the more relaxing and a lot more fun!

I learned a few new things about Sir Henry (I'm feeling very British, thanks to the Olympics):

He's a much better sleeper than I give him credit for.  Actually, I knew (and am ever thankful for the fact) that he is an AMAZING sleeper.  However, for months and months I have been creeping around like a mouse after he goes to bed, which makes for a lot of creeping since he goes to bed around 7.  And poor Nate, who really doesn't enjoy being mouse-like, is compelled to do so as well.  At the beach, there was no quiet.  Yes, I whispered between the hours of 6:30 and whenever we adults went to bed.  Yes, I was careful not to allow my fork or knife to clank against my plate during dinner.  My companions were not so careful; the boy never woke up once.

He is sensitive to heat like his mama.  Where there is heat, there is heat rash, and that's just no fun.  Believe me, I know.  (Side story:  Once, while in France, I was miserable, hot and covered in a heat rash.  I went to the pharmacy and, in the heat of the moment [no pun intended], told the pharmacist that I had une affection de la peau--a skin infection.  How ladylike and charming.)  Fortunately, my husband and my mother are of much heartier stock and didn't let a little rash confine us to air-conditioned quarters.

He loves sand.

He loves dogs even more than sand.

He is the most delightful boy in the world (but I already knew that)!


We got to go out on a real date!

Notice the toothbrush in his hand.  The same brush that he toted to the pool with him.  Nothing like encouraging dental hygiene at a young age.