Two - the third

Dear PIE,
I wrote in your journal, but not here, when your 2nd birthday came around.  I will date this on your birthday so it can be found, but today is July the 10th and you have been solidly in 2 for several months.  I think you are just getting better with every day.

You told me your first joke.  It involved poop.  You find funny words and voices to use in your ever expanding vocabulary and when you get us to laugh, in true baby of the family form, you use that joke often and well.  It's lovely.  You give the best smooches and hugs, say I love you without thinking, cradle my old Pépe bear in your arms wherever you go.  You play hard.  You stomp your foot and yell "NO!!" at the top of your tiny voice.  We have learned the hard way that to meet you head on is to meet with defeat and sobbing.  I take the back way and lead you where we need to go, and you go joyfully and willingly.

You and your brother wrestle in wild ways that make my heart thump, worried a head will get knocked or someone is going to fall off the bed or lose a tooth.  I've worried that you have knocked my own tooth loose, but when something does happen, you say in your little voice. "I SO sorry, Mama" (or Cora, or Papa, or Judah) and you mean it. 

You LOVE (I can't emphasize that enough) your Papa and some part of you has wormed into his heart even deeper that the other kids managed to get.  Maybe it is your stubbornness that won't let him go and he gives in and softens and takes the extra time.  And then gives the extra time to the rest of us too.  It's wonderful to watch.  You sing and make up songs, and when your favorite song comes on the kitchen radio, you RUN in and dance your heart out.  It's infectious.  As is your joy.  But look out if we should cross you.  I love you more with every passing day.  I am glad you were born, sweet boy.

Love always,
Mama

Four - the second

Dear sweet Judah,
    I wrote in your journal on your birthday, but not here.  I'm thinking back on your birthday and you today, far away from the snow that you loved so much this winter. 

Four years old has hit you like a ton of bricks.  I don't know what it is that brings with this age such strong feelings (and tears), both high and lown.  I noticed it with your sister in her 3rd year, but you seemed immune.  Glad to just be alive and as we used to say when you were a baby, you Ate Life!  Happy to just take it all in.  But hard things happen sometimes.  You got a new brother just the year before that took the focus off of you for awhile while we adjusted and recovered from not one, but two pregnancies, one that was rough, didn't last and made Mama and Papa very sad.  You had a scary experience in a pool where you got away from me and spent a few seconds alone under water and it hung over you for a long time.    Little fears crept in and for a little while squashed down your natural tenacity and vivaciousness.  You knew how you felt, but not how to say it, or say what it was you really needed.

Thankfully with much love and care and time, that seemed to pass and your old joy reappeared.  Papa and I understand what it is to be a middle child.  We both were once.  We know you need extra time and love to be seen and heard and we try to take that time where ever we can.  A snuggle here, a story there, a walk, a conversation, a shared chore (not your favorite, but you do it with me).  You hardly ever ask, just happy to be here and with us all, but we know you need it too.  The squeaky wheel may get the grease, but we know you need attention even if you don't complain.

You learned to ride a bike with all of your stubborn strength and will, in spite of it being too small for you now.  You were determined.  You fell lots of times, just like when you learned to walk, and I expected you to walk away, but you didn't.  You fought for it.  And you were rewarded with the thrill of racing on your bike down the sidewalk, victorious and fast.

You sing at the top of your lungs whenever the song hits you, no matter where we are.  I understand how that is. I do the same, just not at the top of my lungs any more.  Just ask my family how much the liked it.  (p.s. it bugged them, but I still love when you do it)  You long to play and instrument and can sing back any tune or song.  Like the theme music for Peter Pan and Captain Hook in the Disney movie.  You sing Peter's theme when you are happy and up to mischief.  It suits you so well.  Your jokes improve with every passing day and I love how you love to find things to be joyful about.  We joke that you are Emmet from the Lego movie who said, "I can be dark and brooding...Look guys a rainbow!!"

You are my go along to go along guy and generally play well with your older sister and  younger brother, intent on fun rather than having your ideas be the ones that are used.  You build legos like a maniac and love (yes still) anything with wheels or that flies.  You make your loud vrooms and screeches go along with it.  I love your gentle spirit, your love of justice, your kindness, your willingness to share or ask or think of others.  I love that you never quit, but just try again until it works for you, willing to be terrible at it until you succeed.  It makes my heart brim with love to see you push through your fear and swim or try because you trust me and want to try.  You are my fella and I love you with all my heart.

Love always,
Mama

Breakfast Adventures: Baked Eggs

A small part of the fun of this breakfast adventuring has been making something in a new way, and sometimes that requires accessories.  Breakfast accessories.  Fun!

This recipe called for 10 oz casserole dishes.  I have NEVER heard of, nor seen such a thing.  I perused the shelves of baking goods and nothing was even close.  There were huge ones, 8x8, 20oz and 6oz, but no 10oz.

But ages ago, I had bought, for Cora's little kitchen, a small casserole dish.  And then I promptly removed it from her care because she liked to throw it, but nonetheless, we had one thing that MIGHT fit the bill.  So it was off to Old Time Pottery to look for more of these things!  

Each kid (the verbal ones, anyway) got to pick their own style and color and since they were a buck and some change each, I got one for everybody.

These little things are just so stinkin' cute!  So are these kiddos.

So is this guy.  Mr. He Who Must Be Entertained During Cooking!

Little hands grease little dishes.

Little hands crack eggs.

Or in Judah's case, crush eggs.  He gets them started and then crushes them.  And then we pick out bits of shell.

After cracking, they get a little water bath in a larger dish.

 and some fresh chives, salt, and pepper.

Bake for 20 minutes, add cheese (optional) and then back in the oven for 5 minutes to finish baking.

Lovely!  These were nearly the easiest eggs so far and quite possibly my personal favorite to date.

Even though these were warm and lovely and cheesey with the yolks just set enough, they were not a big hit.  Even Matt gave them a star kind of begrudgingly.  

Final rating: 2.5 stars.  The kids are KILLING my star rating, but only the adults truly liked them and ate them, Judah only ate a bite, Peter and Cora ate some, but said "Meh", (In spirit.  Peter isn't talking yet and Cora doesn't know that word yet.) so each contributed 1/4 of a star.  (I decided to add in that for the sake of these, since I like them! :)

In the end, even breakfast accessories, could not redeem the baked eggs.  Alas.  Such is life.  Good in theory, not in practice.   Perhaps I will request them for the next Mother's Day.  :)

Super Kids

Rainy Day. 

Messy Playroom.

Super kids.

 

 

 

 

Even Super Kids get grumpy sometimes.

Breakfast Adventures: Fried Eggs, Fried Eggs, Cheese and Bologna

OK.  No cheese or bologna, but Fried Eggs.  Plain ol fried eggs.

The usual gang of helpers. They REALLY just like to hold eggs. Really. Strangely so. Is this a thing?

Cora is big enough to crack a few into the pan.  Fatal flaw of too many eggs in the pan pictured here.

You would think that this one would be easy.  I have MADE fried eggs before.  And they turned out fine.  Good, even!  But I have never made this many fried eggs in one pan.  Fatal flaw.  Next mistake: the butter browned too fast and they were hard to get apart from each other.  In addition to those rookie mistakes, I have never made sunny side up eggs, as were requested.  I wasn't sure how to make the top cook and not be snotty.  (You know...when the whites don't cook all the way and they have the consistency of snot?  Don't tell me you never thought it!)  My gang is typically an "over medium" kind of gang.

I was tempted to call this a "Do-Over" and take better pictures, but this is reality, folks.  Often I set out with a plan and somewhere about 2/3rds in, something goes awry.  Like too much heat on the pan and eggs cooking too fast, and not sure what to do about egg snot, and trying to figure out why some of my eggs had frozen.  Yes, FROZEN EGGS.  Too weird.  The carton was in contact with the back of the fridge and a row of eggs froze.

Aside: Isn't this just like me?  Just like life?  Just like parenting?  Starting out with a plan, things going awry.  Too much heat (my temper, frustrations, arguing kids), too many eggs in the pan (too many things to do, not taking time for the moment and filling the day with activities), distracted by frozen eggs (social media, phone calls, whatever drama is in my own head), perplexed by egg snot (coming up against things I've never faced that I don't know how to overcome - like pestering and hitting.  It's a new thing that is happening here between siblings and it burns me up!)

 Over cooked butter makes for a nasty looking display, but not too bad of a flavor, in everyone's opinion. (Except Matt.  Brown butter is burnt butter to that man and he may be right.)

Final verdict, Judah liked the "crispy edges" but the yolk cooked too hard for him.  Cora liked them OK, but wanted something to eat them with and we had no toast.  Peter ate a few and didn't spit them.  Matt was late for work and left without breakfast, but fried eggs are on his list of ones he likes a lot. 

For this attempt, I would rate us 3 1/2 stars but I know that's not a true reflection of how my gang feels about fried eggs.  However, I am letting the rating stand.  It's good to know one's limitations.

Aside:  And just like me, just like life, just like parenting, I let go of the final result and just admit that I fail at a lot of things, but I keep at it, until the eggs cook right, or not.  But we eat them anyways.


Have a great weekend.  I will see you on Monday!

p.s.  Edited to add: I went back and re-read the instructions.  COVER the eggs.  Oh.  Now it makes sense.  Good grief.

Breakfast Adventures: Huevos Rancheros with Friends!

My sweet friend plus her family, former Nashvillians who have moved north, were visiting in Nashville and I jumped at the chance to get some time with them where I didn't have to share with the hoards of other people who love them.  Since she is food blogger and I know she and her husband (to say nothing of their sweet babes) love some good food, I invited them to both eat and cook with us.

Today's recipe was Huevos Rancheros.  I know there are some variations on this, but we are sticking with the recipe in the cookbook, so instead of fried and served on a tortilla with a tomato concoction on top, these were actually poached IN the tomato concoction and served with the tomato concoction on top.  And cheese.  Because when is there ever not cheese.  I'm getting to be pretty handy with the egg poaching, by the way.  It was pretty intimidating the first time I tried it, but now...I got this!

With help, of course.

Cora rinsed the chilis.

Judah attempted to open the can of diced tomatoes. 

Yes.  A can.  I'm just following directions here, people.  Pretend I canned these last fall, if you want.  That's more "East Nashville" than a good ol' store brand can of tomatoes.  The cool/hipster/urban farmer kind of East Nashville anyways.  Pretty sure the lovely folks who are being gentrified out of their post WWII shoe box size homes would use a can of tomatoes.  This is a hot topic around here as the developers move in and demolish homes in my neighborhood to slap up giant houses.  I digress...Besides, I got 8 people to feed!  (today, anyway) Priorities, people.  Priorities. 

Even Matt jumped in when the butter (for the onions) threatened to burn, nd he wasn't even going to eat these!  (He doesn't like cooked tomatoes) That's my man, y'all!

Cora helped keep Peter distracted as he emptied out the pantry and she put it back again....

 

...as we got the tomato concoction to this stage and awaited our guests.

Then it was hurry up and make the grub!  Served on crispy corn tortillas with the tomato mixture on top, plus some Montery Jack cheese on top, with avocados on the side.

Sweet children, eating up their breakfasts.

So my friend's hubs doesn't do eggs, Matt doesn't do cooked tomatoes, but the rest of us, even one of the babies (the other one was napping) ate the heck out of these.  If we are going by stars to # of eaters, I would say this is a 6 Star recipe, but for my family, it's just a 4 Star.

No final plate picture.  We were having too much fun over breakfast.

These two are old pals and fell right back into their way of being together.  Cora the boss leader and L goodnaturedly going along with whatever plan she came up with, because he is so very sweet. (by the by, I love how she is so effortlessly lovely.  How does she do that? Where does she get that from?)

A final farewell to sweet friends, the McDonnell family, as they head off to a final Nashville adventure before heading north.  We miss you guys!

Sweet Third Child of Ours

Peter is quickly leaving baby land behind.  He has begun standing in the middle of the room and just waiting for us to notice.  With a smile on his face.  A few tentative steps here and there, but nothing captured on film yet!

Today, in the playroom, there was a giant free for all with bouncy balls flying around, all five of us involved.  And then I took the older two to the kitchen to get their dinners and just Matt and Peter played for a few minutes.  While in there, Matt noticed what I have been noticing for a few months now.  Peter loves time alone with just one other person.  He does fine in the rabble, but he sparkles when you get him by himself.  I have noticed that he often leaves the main room where everyone else is and crawls off to play in the playroom alone.  I find him lying on his belly, quietly engaged with playing with a toy of his older brother or sister, one that would surely be snatched away with a cry of "MINE!" (in spite of consequences that discourage this type of behavior) if they saw him with it. 

I used to think that these traits my children displayed were just baby traits and then, as they grew older, I realized that these are the beginnings of who they are.  Yes, to be guided and molded and nurtured, but in a way, who they are is who they are.

And this one, unless I miss my guess, has the makings of being an introvert like his Papa.  Only time will tell.

Like Papa, like Son.

Breakfast Adventures: Crab Eggs Benedict and Deluxe Eggs Benedict

It was bound to happen.  And I am sure it will happen again.  These eggs, at least the Crab Eggs Benedict, got awarded the lowest rating so far.

After some debating, we came up with our own rating system and here's how it works. Each person who eats can give it a star or not and since there are five of us, it can get up to 5 stars.  Kinda like a fancy restaurant, but it's Mama's home cookin'.

So:
No eating or putting it in your mouth and spitting or throwing it (only allowed for the baby) = no star
Taking a "no thank you" bite and not continuing = no star
Trying it and eating some and/or eating all but deciding it is just OK = 1/2 star
Liking it and/or putting a considerable dent in your meal = a star

Crab Eggs Benedict got a 1/2 star rating.  Deluxe Eggs Benedict got a 1 Star rating.  That one star and that 1/2 star were from me.

It began innocently enough.

Toast some English muffins with the cutest girl in the world.

Distract the baby with a banana.

Simmer the water.

Poach a mess of eggs.

Then saute the veggies for the Deluxe E. B.

And open a can (can?!!) of crab meat for the Crab E.B.

First of all, canned crab is not the best.  I didn't even know it came like that and why, if it is canned, must it remain refrigerated?  Seems fishy...or crabby...to me.  And perhaps that is where we went wrong.  I blame the cookbook.  It is, after all, one from the 90's and any cookbook that regularly includes 3/4 cup AMERICAN cheese and/or a cup of margarine in a recipe, isn't right up there with Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  Am I right?  But I digress...

All served up.  Deluxe on the left, Crab on the right. 

Everyone else got English Muffins with theirs.

Matt's reaction was much like this.

The kids were a little braver, but no one really liked it at all.  So it was scrape off the crab and do your best because Mama is not making another breakfast. 

I ate most of mine, but even the red peppers and onions, which I usually like, weren't doing it for me.

Better luck next time!

Final Rating = 1/2 star

Breakfast Adventures: Eggs Benedict

I'm not gonna lie to you.  Cooking with kids is a huge pain in the patella.  It would be heaps easier to do this by myself while Matt kept the masses entertained, but that isn't the point, is it?  And plus, when have I EVER done things the easy way?  Never.  So with out further ado...Eggs Benedict.

Helping me is the "Egg Master" who was throwing a major fit this morning.  Ah...Three.  The year from hell.  Why is that?  Hormones?  Growing?  Super verbal but not super capable?  Who knows.  Three kinda sucks from time to time.  I'm trying to pretend it isn't that bad.  Kid #1 barely made it out of Three alive.  Or I did.  One or the other.  I can't remember.  I have PTSD from that time in her life.  But Kid #2, is IN IT.  And I am pretending he is not. 

So...Egg Master he was.  Look how his eyes turn to half moons when he smiles.  I love those half moons.  I could eat him up! (When he is not screaming on the floor.  This too shall pass...this too shall pass)

We poached a CRAP LOAD of eggs, and by CRAP LOAD, I mean 8, which isn't that many considering there are 5 of us and everyone here usually eats 2, except Kid #3, who eats one, and Papa bear sometimes eats 3, which brings us to 9-10 eggs, typically consumed around here, but who has a pan that big, so 8 it was.  They rested in a pie pan of hot (but not cooking hot) water on the back of the stove, while we made the Hollandaise sauce.  I should have taken a picture of that.  Pie pan full of floating poached egg eyes.  Mmmm.  Creepy.

On to the Hollandaise sauce, which was pretty easy and the kids were fascinated by the fact that the egg yolk can come loose from the white.  The tricky part is to remember to let the butter come to room temp, which takes some planning, or at least some kind of forethought, which totally didn't happen, so microwave it was!  

This photo is totally staged because Hollandaise sauce has to be stirred constantly and quickly and while she is awesome, she cannot yet whisk.

This photo is not staged, because Kid #3 likes to be RIGHT UNDER MY FEET, like a puppy, hoping for treats to fall from the stove.  I wish I were kidding.  We call them "floor snacks" because it happens so often and he is SO fast.  Oh, and that is a large wooden bead.  Not food.  Which I promptly removed.  Choking hazard!

Then the kids totally bolted on me and I was left to toast English Muffins all alone and then toast them again with Canadian bacon, which is really just ham and so that is what we used.

The result of all our hard work in the kitchen!

Verdict:
Matt: (Sir Not Appearing in this Film, "Don't photograph me.") "SAAAAAY! I DO like Eggs Benedict." (Green Eggs and Ham reference for those of you who are not currently immersed in the Seuss cannon)"You should make these more." (to which I replied, "A bit too involved for every day.  Maybe Father's Day?")

  Cora took a photo of me at breakfast.  Awesome. 

Me: "Lemony! Buttery! I like this. It would probably be better with an English Muffin, but since I am gluten free and had no GF English muffins, I had mine on the plate, on some Canadian bacon ham, and it was still pretty awesome.

Kid #1: "Mmmmmmm!" (and cleaned her plate, so I know it was the truth)

Kid #2: "Yum!" But only had 2 bites so probably not his favorite.  It could just also be that he is THREE.  Blerg.

Kid #3: Didn't throw it or spit it.  Ate pieces of poached egg and ate some Hollandaise sauce off of my finger, but was not to excited about it.  Blueberries and strawberries for this kid, mostly.

So 3 out of 5 approve! (and the 2 disapproving are too young to REALLY appreciate what they are eating, right?)

A selfie with my best girl/Sous Chef.

A mercurial moment with kid #2, who is so very, very THREE, bless his heart.