Indoor Gardening

It's almost April and it's been below freezing every morning for too many days to remember.  I said I wasn't going to complain about the weather, but this is absurd.  On Sunday morning, we took matters into our own hands by planting a little indoor "garden" with M.  I was unsure of how to explain what we were going to do - so we just did it more or less.  She understands words now, but with something like this with a concept that she's never really been exposed to, I have no idea what it means to her.  First we did pumpkin seeds.  She thought that the seed packet contained crackers - or she just wanted to eat crackers - she kept saying crackers while checking out the packet.  Then she put a seed in her mouth.  We got the seed back and planted six little containers.  I chose pumpkin so that the seed was substantial enough for her to see clearly.  We also planted six containers of Marigolds, for obvious reasons.  Our watering device was a stripped down sippy cup that sprinkled quite nicely.  Bringing water and dirt within her reach (indoors) seems a little counterintuitive and perhaps a bit soon (for her age) - but after the initial interest she has pretty much left the "garden" alone - save a few shakes of the sippy.  We'll see what happens.

Back and Forth

I feel like I am "back" this week on the heels of a sleep deprived, slightly aimless, jag.  This "living in the moment" thing is great until the moment (the mommy?) gets a little stale and cranky.  The moment is officially sweet once more.

I'm now called Mommy, no longer Mama.  Stale and cranky are impossible to hold on to.

The pure deliciousness of parenting M aside, navigating the waters of her desires vs. certain limits of practicality and safety can feel extreme.  Lately,  she agrees that we will go "out" - made clear by handing me my shoes and the baby carrier thing, while standing there in nothing but a diaper - arms stretched up to me, pleading "go-out, go-out!" However, my attempts to clothe her are met with ear piercing screams and violent body flailing.  So we wait and try to clothe again every 5 minutes.  Eventually it works.  I suppose I could force the clothes on her in the first go but I do not want to engage in contact sports with my baby.  It's a choice, I guess.  

This is countered by many sweet things, not the least of which is her recital of the names of all the people she knows (more or less) before bed - grandparents, aunties, cousins and friends.  I prompt and she repeats in the beginning, but then she comes up with ones we've forgotten or haven't gotten to yet.  We talk about seeing them, loving them and being lucky to have them in our lives (well, I do most of the talking but she remains interested).

That's my baby doing stairs on her own.

Last night, I made an easy and delectable shrimp scampi-esque thing which I cooked and we ate before there was time to photograph it.  But here is the recipe anyway (from memory):

3/4 lb pasta (I used radiatore but the original recipe called for angel hair)

1 lb large shrimp (frozen raw deveined peeled except-for-the-tail shrimp is a favorite staple, thaw in running water if you are using frozen)

1/4 cup olive oil

4 cloves of garlic, pushed through the garlic press

red pepper flakes, to taste (I used about 1/4 tsp)

1/2 dry white wine

5 tablespoons butter

l cup parsley, chopped

2 cups fresh baby spinach

Cook the pasta according to package instructions.  Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a large skillet on medium high.  Add the shrimp (I pulled the tails off first, for marital harmony) and cook until opaque and just done (just a few minutes).  Remove the shrimp from the pan - leaving the oil behind.  Add the garlic and saute for a minute, then add the wine, red pepper flakes and some salt and pepper.  Let it boil for a minute or two.  Turn the heat off and add the butter, swirl until melted.  Return the shrimp to the pan and toss.  Drain the pasta and combine everything in a big bowl - adding parsley and spinach (which will wilt nicely from the heat of the other ingredients).  Some grated cheese and halved cherry tomatoes would be a fantastic addition.  

I know by looking at the calendar that summer will be here soon - and apparently spring even sooner - but it's been hard to believe.  Our playground was chained shut on Thursday - because of snow!

Up next - potty training.  No rush, just trying to lay some groundwork. Capitalizing on M's infatuation with Elmo we got Elmo's Potty Time DVD.  This was was met with some serious skepticism.  She seemed aware we were trying to sugar coat the propaganda and she wasn't having it.  Somewhere in the middle of the song about having to pee pee, wee wee, piddle, widdle, urinate, dookie, poopy, doodie, poo poo, R's only comment was, "I still can't believe I am a father".

Maybe it's just me, but some of the Amazon reviews for the DVD are hilarious.

From John Shea (gives it 4/5 stars):
To address the one-star reviews, if you are hoping to see Elmo going potty or wiping his furry red rear, this is NOT your video. If you want a cheery, song-filled, positive message about learning to potty being a good thing and feeling so proud as you are growing up (and a reminder to wash your hands afterward), then this IS your video.


Perhaps this was in response to JerryCurlJuice (1/5 stars):
This film is horrible. Just a bunch of song and dance. My 3 y/o watches it because she thinks it's a musical. There isn't even actual scenes of Elmo taking a dump.

But where is the dump?

Tragedy, Paralysis, Gratitude, Meat, Bittman, Quinoa... and You?

The news from Japan has had a somewhat paralyzing effect on me.  I feel helpless to make a difference.  Ultimately, there is no particularly profound revelation to follow this statement.  However, in small ways, I believe in the potential goodness that can come in the wake of such disasters.  For me it's been a natural time to consider how blessed we (me, my family, many Americans, pretty much everyone reading this blog) are and also to think about certain parts of life I take for granted.  For one, eating meat.  (I try to keep the verbiage to a minimum here on A City Mouse, so excuse the occasional jolt-y transition.)  I don't become a vegetarian by the end of this post, I'm talking about blindly taking for granted a seemingly unlimited supply of shrink wrapped animal flesh.

Before I got the chance to snuggle up with some crudite and re-read my Michael Pollan books I happened upon Carol Kaesuk Yoon's article, "No Face, but Plants Like Life Too" in the New York Times.  The title kind of sums it up, a bit wackadoodle to be blunt.  Similar to my experience of reading Pollan's book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, I went away from this article feeling like there were no solutions, only problems, since perhaps plant eating is f@#'d as well.  From there, somehow I stumbled upon an article about proposed legislation to make taking photographs or video of commercial farming a felony offense.  Which led to watching a video on the Humane Society website about the continued use of gestation crates for pigs at Smithfield Foods (this video seems to be commonly cited as a prime reason why pro farm industry types would want covert documentation outlawed).  I will spare you the link to that gruesome video and take you straight to the punch line: considering there are choices when it comes to buying meat, if you haven't already, if wouldn't hurt to learn about where your meat is coming from and shop according to your level of comfort with how the animals are treated.  


(stepping off soap box, sort of)


Excess verbiage be damned, I am officially rambling.  After the Smithfield video, I was pretty depressed.  Then I came across Mark Bittman's piece, Some Animals Are More Equal Than Others (again in the NYT - I don't get out much).  The topic is the twistedness of a young woman getting arrested for allegedly killing a hamster when "Common Farming Exemptions" allow for all manner of mistreatment and torture to be inflicted upon animals raised for food.  R pointed out that Bittman should have elaborated further on the economics - i.e. if the animals we eat were universally treated more humanely, meat would likely be more expensive and less would be consumed.  Short term commercial interests aside, this would be a good thing.  One of these days, I will have a Bittman love fest on this blog, because he is generally great.  


Most recently, I read the article about how the spike in American and European quinoa consumption has skyrocketed its price - making it unaffordable to many natives of Bolivia, where quinoa is grown.  So Bolivians are eating a lot less nutritious quinoa and more cheap processed food.  Are you kidding me?  I guess it's not just the Japan news that has my head spinning.


Enough with the problems.


My mother suggested petitioning to have the Indian Point Energy Center (the nuclear power plant in Buchanan, NY) shut down.  


The first of "three easy ways to make a difference", from Peter Singer's website:


1. DO SOMETHING FOR THE WORLD'S POOREST PEOPLE Donate some of your spare income to help those in great need.  I support Oxfam, an organization that works directly with local grass roots organizations in developing countries, and supervises the way its money is used to prevent corruption and waste.  http://www.oxfam.org.


Your suggestions are welcome.

A Year Ago

March 25, 2010 - six months old

Letting It Go

I am having a very hard time remembering exactly (or generally) what I did, felt, ate, etc. over the past seven days.  Could this have something to do with the fact that it's been a week since my last post?  The last thing I want is to turn this blog into a daily stream-of-consciousness log of my every move, but, on the other hand, I can see how it could quickly fizzle into a barren dumping ground for the occasional cute photo.  But really, what is the point?  I ask myself this from time to time.  Not to disrespect my '"followers" but there might not be a point.  This is something I am working on.  How's that for vague and meandering?

I like the idea of astrology.  I have opinions about certain signs based on what I have read in books - mashed together with my personal experiences.  There is supposed to be a really big full moon around now and for the past few days my horoscope has been stressing that I should take the bull by the horns, so to speak.  One said that my "world is opening up like a big hibiscus flower". 

Also this week...  we revisited the echo bridge a few times.  Next time, I will look to see if there is a more official name.  There are a lot of overpasses in Central Park, but this one is special because there is a strong echo.  M loves it under there.  She got really dirty and we stayed for awhile...

Almost

I'm writing this from a remote location in CT.  In a bathrobe, in front of a roaring fire, drinking champagne.  Our sweet baby is home with her sitter and R and I are having a luxurious weekend in the Litchfield Hills.  It's perfect in nearly every way except that I miss the chicken dearly.  Judging from our recent phone conversation she misses me too.  "Boo" and "Mama" were repeated over and over.  Heartbreak!  It's only two nights and a relaxed Mama is a happy Mama is a better Mama...it's only two nights and... Sob!

me blogging (right), R looking for Elmo stuff for M (left)

Some heavy missing aside, it is hard to stay miserable.  R and I are perfect for each other in so many ways and this weekend has been a great opportunity to remember many of the ways.  For one, we are on the same page when it comes to vacationing.  Both of us like to do as little as possible.  I think this started because we both had jobs that were quite consuming and involved exciting travel, so super chill vacations just felt right.  R still has a really consuming job with (formerly exciting) travel and I've got the Mama gig.  Against our natural inclinations, on this trip we haven't been complete slugs so far.  This morning we went horseback riding at Lee's Farm.  It was much more tame than our last horseback riding experience which was at Rita's Stables in Montauk.  At Rita's there were no helmets and we were trotting (? cantering?) at a pretty fast clip just a few minutes after saddling up.  For total beginners like us, this was pretty exciting.  Today at Lee's things seemed much more regulated (read: kind of boring) but my tush still hurt by the end.  Oh, and George, R's horse, bit me on the leg and I have a bruise.

George the horse, before he bit me

Another activity on this trip has been "quest for iPad 2".  Don't laugh.  R is kind of obsessed, but in a laid back kind of way.  Yesterday, already on our "getaway", we napped through the 5pm release and when we woke up around 6pm we started frantically calling the surrounding vendors.  Defeat answered our calls, again and again.  Until, we got some guy at Walmart in Waterbury - they had one left!!  Which one?  The 64GB? YES!  AT&T? YES!  Could we buy it over the phone? NO! Could we give him $50 to hold it for us? NO! OK, we are on our way!!  We drove at an irresponsible speed down to the Waterbury Walmart.  R dropped me at the front door and I ran to the photo dept at the back of the store.  The guy I spoke with said they had already sold out!  NOOO! Then he agreed to look around in the back.  He opened a bunch of cabinets and doors behind the counter and finally came up with it!  Considering our relatively slacker approach, this was a very SWEET VICTORY.  We bought it then and there.  On our way out (seems like a mile to the front of the store) we started examining the box.  Weirdly, it doesn't say "2" anywhere on the box.  Ok, but the picture looks like it does in the Apple video...  After a few more minutes of nervously searching on our iPhones for confirmation that this was the right product it became clear that it was not 3G.  DEAL BREAKER.  Tails between legs, we returned the sweet promise.  Defeat aside, the race and the momentary victory were exhilarating in a distinctly irresponsible (read: pre-child) way which was nice.  Not being kissed-all-over-the-face by our child nice, but nice.  And we will get the new stinking iPad soon...even if it's in 2 - 3 weeks...

Almost

For now, I will now go back to almost completely enjoying myself.

Puddle Lover

iChat with Papou and Patricia

Apps, Naps and Flashbacks

Tonight I made Baked Wrapped Tilapia.  I got the recipe off the Epicurious App (but you can also find it here).  Apparently it is Tori Amos' favorite recipe.  It couldn't be easier to make and it tastes delicious.

Baked Wrapped Tilapia


Makes 4 servings


Topping

• 1-inch cube fresh gingerroot, finely chopped or grated
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped or grated
• 2 green onions (green part only), finely chopped
• Fresh chile to taste
• 1 cup finely chopped cilantro
• 2 tbsp grapeseed (or safflower) oil
• Dash of toasted sesame oil
• Dash of soy sauce
• Dash of fish sauce
• 4 tsp dark maple syrup

Tilapia

• 4 fillets (4 oz each) fresh tilapia (or other firm-fleshed whitefish)
• 4 large banana leaves (I used unbleached parchment paper)

Preheat oven to 400°F. Combine all topping ingredients in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Place a fillet on each banana leaf (or sheet of parchment paper) and divide topping evenly among them, spreading it over the top. Fold each banana leaf (or parchment paper) over to form a packet around each fillet and seal the edge of each packet with a small piece of aluminum foil, crimping it tightly. Place on a baking sheet and bake 25 to 30 minutes

We have yet to iron out all of the sleep wrinkles with the little miss and so things like this have been happening while we are out and about:

Reminds of us last summer:

In an effort to wear her out for bedtime we've been doing lots of this:

With her apps:

Butterflies are a little scary:

Art vs. Nature

Someone who knows what she is talking about recently told me that we don't metabolize happiness during sleep until deep into a sleep cycle.  Be patient while I butcher this. The theory is that it's evolutionary.  While sleeping, we have to hash through all the bad/dangerous/depressing stuff before we digest the good stuff.  For instance, if we happened to see a friend get eaten by a saber tooth tiger, that memory gets "reviewed" in slumber before some lovely moment in our day.  Reviewing the lovely moment is not essential to survival - so it's a bonus we get IF we sleep deeply for a long enough period.  It's no wonder that people who don't get enough sleep can start to get grumpy - because they are not digesting the good stuff.  In my case, add sensitive and we've got a pretty accurate picture.  I am going to bed soon, so this is going to be brief and possibly a little aimless.

With some time after my jewelry class this afternoon I walked toward Central Park.  Love or hate the Upper East Side, it's impossible to argue with the staggering concentration of incredible art museums within spitting distance of one another in this neighborhood.  Today, I walked past the Cooper Hewitt, the Guggenheim and the Met.  Many respectable small cities would be blessed to have a fraction of the amazingness housed within these walls.  Approaching Fifth Avenue, I caught a glimpse of the slight incline that hugs the perimeter of the reservoir just within the park.  As I felt mysterious forces pulling me toward the park, it occurred to me that in this moment nature was winning over art.  It was a fair match, and I (a little guiltily)  melted in the victor's embrace.  I'm off to metabolize this.  Sweet dreams.