August 30, 2015

What's for Supper? {link-up}

Linking up with Simcha Fisher.

Now that Lady Infant has started eating solids, we are burning through produce faster than a Salad Shooter, and our grocery expenditures are starting to go through the roof. Part of Mr. Husband's and my plan to address this issue is to go back to planning our meals for the week. This is something that I did very consistently when I was in grad school and was gone two nights a week, but haven't done consistently at all since Sir Toddler was born. This is what we've been eating this past week.

Saturday:  We had dinner guests that night with a planned Amerimexican theme (my second oldest brother-in-law makes amazing margaritas) so we had loaded nachos with pulled pork, refried beans, olives and cheese (duh) on top, and guacamole and salsa on the side. Since the meat sales weren't particularly promising that week, we actually purchased premade pulled pork in barbecue sauce. It was much better than I thought it would be. I don't know if throwing a bunch of ingredients on chips and tossing it in the oven until the cheese melts really qualifies as cooking, but the margaritas were made from scratch.

Sunday: Mr. Husband was out that night. Usually that's my cue to make breakfast for dinner, but I had some tomato sauce already made from earlier in the week, plus some zucchini to use up. You may be thinking that I did some fancy veggie spiralizing, but that is blasphemy to my half-Italian heritage so we had Market Basket brand tortellini with the sauce and baked zucchini (slice into half-coins, add olive oil, salt, and pepper, bake at 400 º until browned) on the side.

Monday: I planned on meatballs, but I realized rather late in the day that we were not only out of breadcrumbs, but we had also just used up all of the sandwich bread. So bolognese sauce it was, plus green beans and rigatoni.

Tuesday: Chicken enchiladas (with grocery store guacamole) from America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook. The great thing about this type of recipe is that we use fewer pieces of chicken when it's shredded and mixed into something rather than serving a chicken dish with sides.

Wednesday: Pasta with chicken and pesto. It was really the last hurrah of my basil plants; they look dreadful now. I used the pesto recipe from The Joy of Pasta minus the pine nuts because I never have those on hand. Again, I shredded chicken into the pasta to stretch our chicken supply a bit.

Thursday: Pizza. I never make more than three pizzas (we had a dinner guest) so I make the crusts from scratch in my stand mixer, but I discovered six months ago that it made no difference in cost to buy the little cans of sauce, pre-sliced pepperoni, and pre-grated mozzarella. I usually sautée some peppers and mushrooms for toppings and assemble.

Friday:  My meal plan was originally a rice and beans dish (an attempt to cut down on our meat expenditures by eating less of it) that involved cooking the beans all day in the slow cooker. I forgot to get the beans cooking in my rush to fit in a morning run/playground romp so we had Two-Ingredient Crockpot Chicken with lemon spaghetti and (previously frozen) peas.

I'll post the lemon spaghetti recipe later, as Lady Infant is currently using my legs and torso as a pull-up bar.

August 19, 2015

Toddler Talk

Sir Toddler is starting to string together sentences. Combine that with narrating everything he sees from a 2-year-old's perspective, and we've got some gems.

(starting grace before dinner, after being scolded for goofing off during grace at lunch that day)

"Faver, Son, Howey Spiwit, Amen...dis is not funny."


Sometimes we get, "Faver, Son, Howey Spiwit, Amen. Good job."

Alfie Kohn would hate us.

(At a Mass being celebrated by my husband's recently ordained best friend)

Me: "Look, Fr. [Priest] is praying to Jesus."

ST: "Faver, Son, Howey Spiwit, Amen. Bess us Yord..." (proceeds to say a jumbled but hilarious grace)

(later during the consecration of the Precious Blood)

ST: "Faver [Priest] eat beer."

(Whenever his sister cries)

"[Lady Infant] just c[r]anky." or "[Lady Infant] just c[r]y."



(During a discussion of beverages)

ST: "Mama drink coffee."

Me: "That's right, mama drinks coffee. Does Daddy drink coffee?"

ST: "Daddy drink coffee."

Me: "Does [Sir Toddler] drink coffee?"

ST: "[Sir Toddler] drink milk."

Me: "Does [Lady Infant] drink coffee?"

ST: "[Lady Infant] EAT MILKIES!"


Right.

August 16, 2015

Running (around) with Children

Before children:

Wake up, bright and early and well-rested since Mr. Husband generally doesn't wake up crying in the middle of the night.

Put in contacts, use the bathroom, dress in running clothes.

Run before it gets hot. Feel like a gazelle.

Come home, stretch, and shower. The end.

With children:

Wake up. Feel groggy as all get-out, but decide that I can conquer the world today because Lady Infant didn't begin her you'll-never-sleep-train-me shenanigans until 5 AM.

Diapers for the small crowd, coffee for the large ones, and breakfast all around. Low blood sugar only ensures toddler shenanigans.


Debate with self about how to wear out Sir Toddler to ensure a nap. A quick sniff of the air signals round two of diapers.

Wrangle kids into clothes.

Realize it's already 9 AM. Let's skip the shower and try to rock workout chic.

Since I'm dressed in running clothes, I guess I should finally use the jogger for actual jogging.

Round three of diapers.

Fill water bottles, check diaper bag, put shoes on shoe-wearers. Remember that the tires were under-inflated during our last stroller jaunt.

Secure Sir Toddler in the living room with gates, restrain Lady Infant in the jumperoo in the kitchen, and retrieve tire pump from basement. Also grab diapers from the washing machine but I really want to get going so instead of hanging them up, I leave them in a wet heap in the kitchen.

This is what happens when I leave Lady Infant alone in a room for a few minutes.

Walk past fussing Lady Infant, hop over gate-hurdle one, leave tire pump, grab keys, hop over gate-hurdle two, out the door to retrieve stroller from the trunk of the car.

Assemble stroller. Did I mention that we have to take the wheels off to get it to fit in the trunk of our family vehicle?

Drag stroller unto the front porch. Sir Toddler has discovered a secret compartment in the tire pump that contains tiny needles. Confiscate, take tire pump outside, and pump tires while toddler frets about possible loud noises that may ensue from the tire pump.

Drag stroller onto the grass, retrieve children, diaper bag, and water, and get children buckled in before somebody walks by and decides that our stroller is up for grabs. I dream of a garage. Or a driveway.

Remember that Mr. Husband reported that the stroller was pulling in one direction the very first time we used the lock on the front wheel. Can't remember which way or how to fix it, so we run with the front wheel set to swivel.

Commence pushing roughly 3/4 of my body weight on wheels. Hot, sweaty, slow, and pathetic is the name of the game. Snap a shadow selfie.


As we near home, I realize that I will go insane if Sir Toddler doesn't nap today. Stop at a little spot in the town center to let him run himself ragged.


By the time we get home, everyone is whine-crying for lunch. Including me. Unbuckle everyone, bring children and diaper bag inside, run back out and drag stroller onto the porch. Make sandwich for toddler, slice peace for baby, restrain everyone in boosters, and hang up diapers while everyone eats. Cook and eat lunch standing up, and oh, I'd better look up the instructions on fixing the swivel wheel incaseitsreallycomplicatedandwilltakeallnaptimetofix...

oh. ok.

Wash dishes and water plants while kids are relatively content.

Convince Sir Toddler to go upstairs with me to "help change Lady Infant's diaper."

Round 4 of diapers. Put children in cages/cribs so I can

finally shower,

get dressed,

fix the stroller,

disassemble it and put it in the trunk,

and wonder when I'll have the mental energy for another morning like this.

the end.