Rules for Being Human

*** Title of this post is taken from a section in the book If Life is a Game, These are the Rules by Cherie Carter-Scott.  Most of this post is simply a reprint of her rules. ***

On Saturday, I attended a spiritual workshop hosted by my wonderful rabbi.  With the High Holidays rapidly approaching (as in Rosh Hashanah is in ONE WEEK! Eek!), my rabbi, with the help of some fabulous ladies, presented Day Spa for the Soul.  In her portion about teshuvah (literally meaning "to turn around" but commonly translated to mean "repent"), she began her discussion with these "rules".  I thought I'd share them with you for a little food for thought.

The Rules for Being Human

1. You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it will be yours for the entire period of this time around.

2. You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called Life. Each day in this school you will have the opportunity to learn lessons. You may like the lessons of think them irrelevant and stupid.

3. There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial and error: Experimentation. The "failed" experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiment that ultimately "works."

4. A lesson is repeated until learned. A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. When you have learned it, you can then go on to the next lesson.

5. Learning lessons does not end. There is no part of life that does not contain its lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons to be learned.

6. "There" is no better than "here". When your "there" has become a "here", you will simply obtain another "there" that will again look better than "here".

7. Others are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects something you love or hate about yourself.

8. What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need. What you do with them is up to you. The choice is yours.

9. Your answers lie inside you. The answers to Life's questions lie inside you. All you need to do is look, listen, and trust.

10. You will forget all of this.

The Best D*mn Food on the Planet

I've been thinking about food a lot lately. Let's be honest: I love to eat. A lot. One of the most awesome joys of being pregnant is usually getting to eat for two. In my case, having diabetes, kind of curbs that a little bit. It sucks sometimes, but it's only for a little while, right?

But just because I don't get to enjoy all the foods I'd like to doesn't mean I don't love to make food. I especially love making food for the Benner and my husband. Why? Well, for one, making food for Ben can be a challenge. He's a unique eater. He doesn't eat meat (which is fine. I didn't eat meat until I was about 6 or 7). He doesn't like pasta (which to me is totally, completely, and in all other ways inconceivable. Who doesn't like pasta!?! It's a food group unto itself. It's God's most wonderful antidepressant in fun wagon wheel shapes. It's...it's...it's... sometimes I wonder if Ben is really my son. Kidding, of course!) He's not a fan of hotdogs or things in nugget form, so I have to be creative. Veggies are completely off the radar for him. If it's green it's gross. So I do a lot of baking/cooking of Veggies Incognito: Zucchini Muffins, Spinach Ricotta Bits, Sweet Potato pancakes.

I love cooking for my husband because he will eating anything I make with gusto and enthusiasm! Never a critic and always appreciative. For my hubby, the best route to his heart is truly through his stomach.

So as I was cooking food for the Benner to eat for the week, I got to thinking about the one thing that I love the most. Considering that I like so many, many different foods, it was hard to pin down, but I think I've got it. Cioppino.  A luscious seafood stew in a spicy tomato broth, usually served with sourdough bread and a hearty red wine. 

The first time I had cioppino was in San Francisco in 2005.  I was still working for a high tech company and was the event coordinator for Semicon.  I had the privalege of being a) the new girl and b) a girl, so the sales guys typically invited me and my colleague out for fabulous dinners that we probably wouldn't have gone to otherwise.  So that evening, we headed to a restaurant called Moose's (sadly, it's now closed.)  Here I got quite an education.  Up until that night, I had a serious fear of all things shell fish and raw.  Little did I know I would fall in love with shrimp, cockles, mussels, lobster, crab, and tuna tartar.  Being an upscale place, the restaurant served a prix fixe (planned menu of usually three courses at a set price.)  Being the Johnnys Come Lately that we are, there was only one prix fixe left.  I was sitting next to one of my favorite sales guys, R.L., who encouraged me to order the tasting.  My mouth said, "Sounds great!"  My brain said, "Are you out of your mind!?!  It's all seafood and it's GROOOOSSSSSSS!!!!"

The menu started with tuna tartar (that's raw, people) in a chilled spring pea soup (that's cold, green mushy stuff, people).  All eyes on the New Girl and down the hatch it had to go.  The result? Fabulosity! Delicious exaltation!  I was Remy trying roasted wild mushroom with tomme de chevre de paix for the first time!  The wine didn't hurt either. 

The second course followed shortly. In front of me lay a large, shallow bowl that smelled like summer. The gentle acidity of the tomato broth, the sweet fragrance of perfectly good shrimp, cockles (Those are tiny clams. Get yo' mind outta da gutter!), tender mussels, and rich salmon.  All of this goodness served with San Francisco's claim to fame, sourdough bread.

Close friendships, good wine, and a late night all make for very friendly dinner companions.  As soon as entrees were served, our plates wound their way to each other for tastes and exclamations.  My cioppino had been sampled by just about everyone...except me.  As I saw the dish come in to home plate, my dear, darling friend, C.S., took his turn.  And then out of NOWHERE, seriously, no where, his wine glass spontaneously combusted. INTO. MY. DELICIOUS. CIOPPINO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!

The crowd hushed.  The ladies gasped.  I quietly wept for the food that would not join the party in my tummy.  The waiter came over to help with clean up, insisting that it really wasn't safe for me to eat around the glass and no, the chef did not have any more cioppino. Not even a little broth to sop up with my last remaining crust of bread.  It was a sad night (made even sadder when the waiter brought me a Cesar salad to make up for the loss of my lovely.  Seriously!?! Cesar salad?!?!  Damn Californians.)

I have had other cioppinos.  Tadich Grill is famous for theirs (it's OK.)  La Traviata did a good job considering they're about 1,800 miles from San Fran and the mother land of cioppino.  Contrary to what Donkey might think, no, parfait is not the best damn thing on the planet. Cioppino is. 

When You're a Kid

Right now, I'm listening to Ben on the monitor sing multiple variations of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (presumably to Iron Man or Blue Bear, but who knows) when he should be napping.

Nap time around here is a blessing to me! It means 1.5 hours of quiet time. I love quiet time! I love not hearing, "Mom, I want [insert demand here], NEEEOOOOOWWWWWW!" (That's how Ben says "now". It sounds just like my cat Max's meow but pronounced with an "N". It's annoying.)

Ben not wanting to nap this morning reminded me of all the things that we hated to do as kids but would love to do/have done for us as adults. So I made a list (I'm a big fan of lists).

Things You Hated Doing/Having Done For You As A Kid, But Would Love It Now As An Adult (whew! I've got to work on my headline skills.)

1. Taking a nap --- Naps were torture as a kid. What a lame, boring way to spend an hour when you could be doing way more fun things like playing pretend, or Freeze Tag, or twirling in circles. As an adult, naps are the pinnacle of luxury, especially if you're working. In fact, there are some places where you can pay to take a nap!

2. Having someone cook delicious, healthy meals for you --- Veggies? Whole grains? Blech! As a kid you probably wanted a handful of McNuggets washed down with a shake. (Unless you're my kid and then you skip the "chicken" all together and ask for raspberries.) Your mom wouldn't let you "help" make dinner because you were "too little". As an adult, I would give anything to have someone come to my house, prepare a delicious, flavorful, healthy meal (and clean up!).

3. Riding in the stroller --- I still remember hating being pushed in a stroller when we went to the mall or on an outing. I could never see things higher than about adult knee height. I was riding in a sea of thighs and butts. It was not pleasant. As an adult, I hate going out to places where there are crowds, but I would hate it less if I was the one being pushed in the stroller. Especially in today's state-of-the-art prams. Reclining seat backs, sun-shielding canopies, snack trays!

4. Baths --- Ben doesn't have a typically difficult time taking a bath unless he's overtired and then it's like trying to get a cat to take a shower (legs and arms sticking out in all directions!). Most kids I've met or have known in the past seem too content to allow muck and dirt accumulate to an impossibly gross level. As an adult, with a toddler, personal cleaning time is at a premium. I usually try to shower before I get Ben out of bed. If I wake up late, I usually have to get in a shower when he's sitting in the high chair, dazed into some "Little Bear" on TV. Taking a 7-minute business rinse down is no substitute for a long, luxurious soak in a big garden tub with scented bubbles, watching Hulu on your laptop (not in the water. To the side of it on my Elfa towel stand).

In exactly 15 days, 20 hours, and 19 minutes, Ben will be starting preschool. I fully intended to take a luxurious bath, a long restful nap, and if I can swing it, get someone to push me in a stroller to a lovely restaurant to eat a nutritious, healthy meal!

Discipline and The Two Year Old

Hey now. What's that sound I'm hearing?  Oh yes.  The hysterical laughter of more seasoned parents (aka grandparents. Aka MY parents) at the mere notion of disciplining a two year old.  You just can't.  Well, you can, but there are few techniques that are a) successful all the time and b) don't involve Great Dane sized crates and clicker training.

Ben is not a listener.  Let me clarify. Ben does not listen to me. He listens to his father. He listens to his teachers. He listens to strangers.  The woman who carried him in her womb, suffered through sleepless nights, endured a 16 hour labor followed by a much-desired c-section?  That woman?  He doesn't listen to her.

When Ben doesn't listen to me, I would say that 96% of the time I roll my eyes, redirect, and move on. Redirect basically means that I physically move him from what ever it is that I don't want him to do and then do that thing that I wanted him to do, myself.

But then there are days like today.  Over and over he pushes my buttons and when I have finally had enough, I turn kind of turn into this girl:



Does this phase him at all? No. In fact a lot of times he just looks at me and then looks at his imaginary buddies with this look on his face that kind of translates to, "Dude. Are you watching this? My mom is CRAZY." And then the little booger just keeps doing whatever it was he was doing earlier that caused me to turn into crazy-angry-brush-wielding girl.

Usually at this point, it's a good moment to take a time out. Both me and Ben. Time outs seem to be the only thing that get him motivated to stop being a toddler and behave like the respectable adult I expect him to be!!! (note: I'm fully aware of my unrealistic expectations. I was being ironical.)  So Brush Girl picks up Monster Ben, sets him in the crib which usually turns him into this guy:

A nice glass of wine (before I got pregnant) or no-sugar added pudding cup (how sad) for me and ten minutes in the crib for Ben and all seems to be right with the world.  We hug and make up. I tell him to stop pushing my buttons and he says, "I stop. I promise, Mom."  Followed by this cutest cheese grin in the world.  *sigh* I just can't stay upset with this stinker! (Until next time, anyway.)

Hey Good Lookin'! Whatcha Got Cookin'?

A few weeks ago I got a call from the perinatologist's office that my OB scheduled me for a "consultation and ultrasound, as soon as possible."  Eek!  I don't think it's a secret that I'm a tad prone to anxiety and the ever present over-active imagination. So when a medical office uses the words "as soon as possible", but mind goes into overdrive and I start to freak out just a little bit.

Being high risk (I'm a sugar mama), I shouldn't have been too surprised that I needed to see the peri (which rhymes with Berry, as in Dr., to whom I was referred by Cherry, as in my OB. That's right, Dr. Cherry sent me to Dr. Berry, the Peri.  You can't make this stuff up folks!)  The appointment went very well and I got a little treat: to see our bun in action. 

 

Sometimes You Just Need a Cookie

So this afternoon, I thought it might be fun to make cookies WITH my two and a half year old (who, by the way, is yelling foreign language obscenities at the cats who are quietly sitting on the SAFE side of the baby gate. *sigh*)

Well the "baking with" concept was a little lost on my Benner because it mostly involved him yelling at me and demanding to "eat cookies, NOW, mommy!!!" So twenty very loud minutes later, cookies were mixed, baked, and cooling. Then I fed the beast and the beast was pleased. I thought I'd share the recipe for the easiest cookies in the world.

Easiest Tastiest Cake Cookies

1 boxed cake mix (any flavor)
2 eggs
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Mix cake mix, eggs, and butter for 1 min. on low with electric mixer.
3. Scrape edges of bowl and mix for 1 min. more. Batter will be THICK.
4. Stir in add-ins of choice.5. Drop teaspoon sized dollops onto ungreased cookie sheets.
6. Bake for 10-15 minutes on middle rack of oven.
7. Allow to cool for 10 minutes on cookie sheets before transferring to cooling rack.

Add-ins:

For Oatmeal Raisin, add 5oz raisins and 2 cups oatmeal
For Chocolate Chip, add 1 cup semi-sweet chips
For Spiced Nut cookies, use Spice Cake mix and add 1 cup chopped nuts (walnuts, pecans, almonds, etc.)

Or add whatever sounds tasty to you!

And voila!

So Much to Report, So Little Text Space

When did it get to be August? Every year that I get older, time just moves faster and faster. Where to start with any update?

Well, if you haven't already guessed by now, I'm preggers. I can't remember if I already posted to that fact (and I'm too lazy to read through all, like, six posts), but there you have it. Pregnant. Knocked up. With child. Expecting. All is well in that department (though Ben is hoping that we're going to be having a puppy and not a human baby. Sorry! Birthing puppies only seems to be something that happens in my dreams.)

Everyday, I get a little more comfortable with the stay-at-home-mom gig. That was until this month when Ben's preschool decided to take off the entire month! As if teachers really need a vacation! Come on! Okay, just kidding. But when it's averaging 104 degrees in the shade and your child sort of acts like this guy a lot of the time, it gets a bit daunting trying to find activities that we'll both enjoy.

Oh August...soul sucking, oppressive, slow moving August. Beyond the pool and late afternoon naps, I can't think of anything you're good for. I lament its heat, but really, in Texas the weather doesn't even begin to hint at bearable until about October.

Honestly, I feel like I'm actively waiting until Ben starts school again and I can get back to my daily schedule: pretty much what I do now (read, answer e-mails, clean the house, go to the grocery store) except I'll be by myself.

Anyway, I don't know where this blog is going. I'm not a good daily blogger. I don't know what y'all want to know about. If you have any thoughts on what I can write to you about, let me know. Until then I'm going to sit here with my 15-week-belly-looking-like-seven-months, and sip my iced tea, waiting for a little blog love.