Who's The Boss?

Pickles

I swear my visit to my Grandmother's house in Arkansas last July has sparked my innner Southern woman.  On that trip I learned how to make fried pies, a real Southern treat.  I also listened to my Grandmother's stories of how Mama (her mom) canned everything.  Grandmother said that they were definitely poor during the Depression but they never went hungry.  If California suddenly had a natural disaster, my family would have to live off the 27 jars of pickles I canned this weekend.  I can't wait for them to fully cure in 6 weeks time so that I can proudly ship a jar (or twelve) to my dear Grandmother.

Gambling man

"Mom, if you finish first then you have to read me a book but if I finish first then I have to read you books."

"So the winner is the one that has to read the books?"

"Yeah.  I hope I don't win."

"Wouldn't it make more sense that the loser has to read the book?"

"Okay, let's do it that way."

Dad: "I have a better idea.  If you win, then I lose and you have to read a book.  But if I win and you lose then you have to read a book."

"Mom, Dad's idea is better.  Let's do it that way."

"Neville, don't take the kid to Vegas.  He'll be the sucker that gambles away his life savings."

Are you a weekend warrior or wimp?

If Monday is the worst day of the week, Saturday is probably a close second. My weekends are quickly getting out of control. There’s always some game for whatever sport my son is playing that season. There’s always a trip to the grocery store, the farmer’s market, or fighting the crowds at the mega-giant Costco. There’s a weekly trip to the library to check out new books and free movies. There’s stuff around the house that is begging to be fixed, cleaned, dusted, mopped, or put away. Weekends, which should be my reprieve for working a 40+ hour week, have turned into a bit of a nightmare.

A couple of years ago, my spouse and I made a pact to keep our weekends as technology-free as possible. I turn off my work-email that flows to my BlackBerry. I rarely even get on the computer unless it is to check a movie time or get directions to someone’s house for a birthday party. But living with less technology doesn’t get rid of a weekend schedule that can easily get out of control.

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What's for Dinner? Corned Beef Hash

Blame it on the fact that it is Multi-Cultural Week at Darius' school.  I'll be talking about Ireland to 27 kindergartners this afternoon and am making Irish Soda Bread tomorrow for their international taste-testing. Something about listening to the Celtic Women and reading Irish fables put me in the mood for Corned Beef.

Neville absolutely hates Corned Beef and Cabbage.  So when I want corned beef, I'm stuck making Corned Beef Hash. Good thing that we all love Corned Beef Hash.  No matter how much I make, there never seems to be enough.  And it tastes just as good the next day, so it's a perfect lunch to take to work. 

To be fair, this isn't really a 20-minute meal.  But if you do a little advanced prep during dinner the night before, you'll have a delicious meal the next night that will be done in 20 minutes. 

Corned Beef Hash

Emergency

I'm pretty sure I jinxed him.  On Sunday I was out to lunch with my dear friend Lia, bragging about my robustly healthy child.  We made it to January with perfect attendance.  And wasn't I just the best mother ever for it. 

You'd think I'd learn my lesson.  The universe does not like hubris.  My over the top ego trip about the good fortune we've had with Darius' health was about to smack me in the face like a whipped cream pie.

The very next day, Darius developed a most ugly cough.  While he didn't have a fever, the kid sounded like he was gonna hack up a lung.  At 11:30pm, he practically did.  He was coughing so hard that he made himself throw up.  When he emerged from the porcelain throne, Neville noticed that one of his eyes was bright red.  The kid looked liked he'd been smoking pot with his blood shot eye. Only it was just one eye. 

Neville, a sucker for a sick kid, told Darius that he could sleep with us for the night.  Which really just means that none of us are going to get much sleep. Forty-five minutes later, Darius started screaming that his ear hurt.  And I don't mean that whiny fake cry that some kids do when they are sick to get more attention.  This was the real deal.  The kid was in pain.  With one eye already looking more and more like a cherry and with an ear throbbing in pain, we had only one choice.

Squee for Wii giveaway

Raise your hand if you bought a Wii this past Christmas.  I was a little jealous that Nintendo dropped their price of the Wii a year after we bought ours. Well, truth be told my dad bought ours as a family Christmas gift in '08.  We are definitely a Wii family.  While I made the mistake of buying one traditional video-game (damn you Lego Star Wars for invading my son's mind like a flesh-eating parasite), I am only interested in Wii games that 1) we can do as a family and 2) get us up off the couch to play. 

What's for Dinner? Simple Chana Curry

Cooking Indian food doesn't have to be a big complicated affair. Like every cuisine, there are dishes that can take hours and there are dishes that can satisfy a busy weeknight. My journey into Indian cooking started only after Darius was born. I have a couple of cookbooks, but most of what I have learned about Indian cooking comes from watching and learning from my Indian family. 

One of the tricks I've learned for fast Indian cooking is to buy the ready-made spice packets.  Traditional Indian foods calls for each spice to be roasted and then ground by hand.  Who has time for that?!?  I learned from my Indian mommas that very few folks actually do this any more - at least not here in the US.  So go buy yourself a few packets.  It's not cheating.  My only advice is to play around with the measurements to find the flavor and level of heat you desire.  If you haven't been to an Indian or Middle Eastern market, work up the courage to go.  Believe me, they'll know once they look at you that you're gonna need help navigating the store.  I promise that they will help.  Seriously. 

The ingredients in this curry are simple.  The whole thing is done in about the same time it makes to cook the rice.  Plus the meal is vegetarian, making it a healthy alternative to some rich (and fattening) meat curries.

Addiction

Three weeks ago I decided to quit cold turkey.  Some people, especially my close family members, knew of my addiction.  It was serious and it was starting to affect my health and even some of my relationships.  I knew the detox would be tough, the journey to stay sober would be harder, and the temptation to go back to my old ways would always be there.  But I wasn’t really prepared to get clean and sober from my coffee addiction.

Yes, I am a caffeine addict.  My preferred method of receiving my drug is coffee.  It doesn’t have to be fancy gourmet blends or expensive lattes.  With a little cream and a half-packet of Splenda, I’ll take my coffee any way I can get it.  I drink anywhere from 4 to 8 cups in a given day.  In the afternoons, I often grab a Diet Coke to get one last caffeine fix.  On the weekends, I fix up Chai made with caffeine-laced black tea.  I can’t get enough of the stuff.

Coffee has wrecked my sleep.  I’ve slept horribly for years.  Each morning, I stumble to my small percolator to get my first fix.  My family knows not to mess with me until I’m halfway through my first cup.  It’s like a self-fulfilled prophecy each and every day.  I drink so much coffee that I can’t sleep only to convince myself that I need more coffee because I got a horrible night’s rest.  Without it I’m irritable, short-fused, and unpredictable.  With it I’m jittery, bogged down with serious indigestion, and always looking for my next fix.

Coffee has wrecked my body.  I stopped eating breakfast in college.  I didn’t need it when my belly was full from all the liquid caffeine.  With a half a pot of coffee consumed by 10am, I didn’t realize that I was starving my body of real food, wrecking havoc on my metabolism.  All those years of not being able to resist an evening snack are understood… not enough calories during the day mean too many calories consumed at night. 

The only other time I detoxed from coffee was when I was pregnant with my son six years ago.  Even then, I could never really cut out caffeine for good.  I still had to have one cup of joe in the morning. But the moment my son was born, I was back to drinking to good stuff.  I couldn’t keep away.  I couldn’t resist the smell, the taste, the feeling that I can finally think straight. 

Three weeks ago, my beloved percolator broke. Instead of replacing it, I decided once and for all to break my caffeine addiction.  No coffee.  No soda.  No Red-Bull or Starbucks.  No energy drinks.  Zero, zip, zilch. Three weeks ago, I embarked on the hardest journey of my life.  This is harder than cramming for finals, or dealing with my first heartbreak.  This is harder than childbirth.  I am more tired, frustrated, and in a fog now than I was in those first few weeks as a new mother. 

I’ve searched for a support group.  I could really use an AA version for Coffee Addicts.  Sure there are lots of people who say they’ll give up coffee as a New Year’s Resolution.  Most of those fools have already gone back to their coffee-drinking ways.  I’m in this for the long haul.  Maybe one day I’ll be able to have just one cup and be normal.  I doubt it.  Alcoholics can’t stop at one drink.  I’m not sure I can stop at one cup. 

Original post for the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

Photo credit: Ana Garza

Coffee has wrecked my sleep.  I’ve slept horribly for years.  Each morning, I stumble to my small percolator to get my first fix.  My family knows not to mess with me until I’m halfway through my first cup.  It’s like a self-fulfilled prophecy each and every day.  I drink so much coffee that I can’t sleep only to convince myself that I need more coffee because I got a horrible night’s rest.  Without it I’m irritable, short-fused, and unpredictable.  With it I’m jittery, bogged down with serious indigestion, and always looking for my next fix.

Coffee has wrecked my body.  I stopped eating breakfast in college.  I didn’t need it when my belly was full from all the liquid caffeine.  With a half a pot of coffee consumed by 10am, I didn’t realize that I was starving my body of real food, wrecking havoc on my metabolism.  All those years of not being able to resist an evening snack are understood… not enough calories during the day mean too many calories consumed at night. 

The only other time I detoxed from coffee was when I was pregnant with my son six years ago.  Even then, I could never really cut out caffeine for good.  I still had to have one cup of joe in the morning. But the moment my son was born, I was back to drinking to good stuff.  I couldn’t keep away.  I couldn’t resist the smell, the taste, the feeling that I can finally think straight. 

Three weeks ago, my beloved percolator broke. Instead of replacing it, I decided once and for all to break my caffeine addiction.  No coffee.  No soda.  No Red-Bull or Starbucks.  No energy drinks.  Zero, zip, zilch. Three weeks ago, I embarked on the hardest journey of my life.  This is harder than cramming for finals, or dealing with my first heartbreak.  This is harder than childbirth.  I am more tired, frustrated, and in a fog now than I was in those first few weeks as a new mother. 

I’ve searched for a support group.  I could really use an AA version for Coffee Addicts.  Sure there are lots of people who say they’ll give up coffee as a New Year’s Resolution.  Most of those fools have already gone back to their coffee-drinking ways.  I’m in this for the long haul.  Maybe one day I’ll be able to have just one cup and be normal.  I doubt it.  Alcoholics can’t stop at one drink.  I’m not sure I can stop at one cup. 

Original post for the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

Photo credit: Ana Garza

I don't need resolutions, I need solutions

I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions. I don't start a diet or a new work out plan with the rest of America. I've learned that saying I want to be more patient doesn't actually make me more patient. I'm not vowing to read more books, eat less red meat, or buy more organic. It's as good as it's gonna get. Especially in January, when my fingers are practically frozen because my spouse insists that heating the house to 62 degrees is actually heating the house.

I don't need resolutions. Resolutions are like promises; they mean nothing and nobody seems to really care if you break it.

But solutions? Solutions I'll take any time. If anyone can solve the mystery that is my never-ending laundry problem, I'll be tap dancing my way into that solution.

This year, I decided to implement one solution. Just one. It won't solve world hunger or fix our economy. But it makes ending the day and starting the next one so much easier for me.

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Art imitates life

The teachers sent home a notice in Monday's homework folder.  The children are to begin writing their own sentences, using three of the six daily vocabulary words.  We, parents, are only to help them understand what the word means; the rest is up to the child.  They've been working for weeks on how to make a proper sentence: Starts with a capital letter, ends with a mark, makes sense.  This is what Darius wrote on Tuesday:

Now I was actually chopping onions when he wrote the sentence.  And he was actually chewing gum.  But the mystery remains as to why he felt the need to call out Ya-Ya for eating the last chip....

What's for Dinner?

I'm starting a new chapter in this little blog.  As many of you know, I pride myself on making fast, delicious, healthful meals for my family.  Dinnertime is the most special part of my day.  I cook for my family nearly every night of the week (and multiple times on the weekends) so that we can sit at our table and break bread together.  Family meals were a big part of how I was raised and I knew before I was ever a mother that I would carry the tradition. 

Most of the dinners I cook are made in the same time it takes for Darius to finish his homework - about 30-45 minutes.  I cook a lot of my own comfort food.  Foods that I ate as child.  Foods that make me feel good.  I've also learned how to make some Indian foods as well.  I think it's important for us to teach Darius about his diverse culture.  Food is a part of that culture.  I plan on sharing on a regular basis (I'm shooting for once a week, but please be patient) with the meals I make from scratch for my family.  I hope it inspires you to start cooking.

Weeknight Beef Stroganoff

Bait and Switch

This post is inspired by See Mom Run by Beth Feldman, a compilation of funny parenting stories by bloggers and writers, and the latest book choice for the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club.

It was my first, real, Parent Teacher Night.  Sure, D’s preschool had a Parent Meeting in the Fall where the teachers talked a little about what happens in their class.  But this Parent Teacher Night was the big leagues.  My baby was no longer a baby.  He was a kindergartner.  An opinionated, independent, backpack toting Kindergartner.  And I was the mom in a new land.  A private school that we only toured twice before signing up.  A private school that cost more than my first year of college tuition.  A private school that had way more parents driving luxury vehicles than parents like us who sacrificed to send out son there.

Darius had survived the first two weeks of school.  I was still feeling like a strange man in a new world.  Navigating drop off and pick up, learning the intense homework schedule.  Between the afterschool clubs, the school uniform policy, and a parent handbook that was thicker than a college freshman textbook, I felt like I had more to learn than my son did.

So there I was on Parent Teacher Night.  I knew this was my opportunity to finally size-up my son’s teachers.  But I also knew this was the teacher’s night to size-up the parents.  So I tried to dress nice, but not too nice.  I squished my child-bearing hips into a chair fit for a five year old.  And I waited for the teachers to tell all about their class.  His teachers talked about what the kids would be learning and how to organize the homework folder. But shortly into their presentation is when the sales pitch for parent volunteers began. 

My favorite posts of 2009

January - I wrote about my journey into blogging and the community that embraced me.

February - I dealt with my very cuddly baby growing into a not-so-cuddly boy.

March - After reading a NY Times article on absent grandparents, I had to share just how awesome our lives are because of the active participation of grandparents.

April - I was saddened when Prop 8 passed in California, but I was deeply offended when Carrie Prejean spoke on behalf of all Californians against gay marriage.

May - We embarked on a trip of a lifetime.  Twenty family members made the trek to Disneyland to celebrate D's fifth birthday.  It was amazing and easier to plan than you might think.

June - I donated more than twelve inches of my hair to Locks of Love and lived to tell about it.

July - Darius and I travelled back to Arkansas, the land of my youth, to visit my dear Grandmother.  Later that month, I finally joined Facebook.

August - This was the hardest month for me.  Darius started Kindergarten, started reading on his own, and proving that he needs me a little less each day.  Cancelling the cable in the same month was no help either.

September - I stood up for breastfeeding working moms. Let's not forget that my dad also turned 60 in September (and wrote the most lovely comment on my post that still makes me cry when I read it.)

October - After watching the Dr Phil show where more gasoline was thrown onto the fire of the Mommy Wars, I officially declared that I'm dropping out of this idiotic conversation.

November - I proved, once and for all, that I can do something as good as my dad. I also learned that taking a five minute shower is an impossible feat.

December - The ghosts of Third grade came back to haunt me. Darius learned that no matter how many times he asks Santa, he's not getting a Nintento DS. Then he proved that he isn't all "nice" all the time either.