I made this based on a recipe in Jolynn Spinelli's 'What's the Soup' and it is amazingly delicious and pretty easy. I adapted it a bit because 3 cups of cream is a bit much.
1 tbs fennel seeds
2 tbs unsalted butter
1 med yellow onion
2 ribs celery (or I prefer fennel), diced
1 tbs rosemary
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
10 small red potatoes,cut into 1 inch cubes
3 yams, peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes
10 cups veg stock - or whatever you prefer, I think I used chicken
2 cups plain tomato sauce (I didn't have any so I used spaghetti sauce)
3 lbs salmon fillets, no skin or bones, frozen is fine
1 cup cream
5-6 cloves garlic, finely chopped
toast fennel seeds in frying pan then remove and set aside
Melt butter in large soup pot
Add onion and celery or fresh fennel, stir about 6-8 minutes until translucent
Add toasted fennel seeds, cayenne adn rosemary, cook another minute
Add potatoes, yams, stock, garlic and tomato sauce
Bring to boil, then simmer about 15 minutes until potatoes done
Add salmon and simmer at least another 15 minutes (I think I did 30 because I was bringing kids to bed)
Add cream and salt to taste
That's it!
November 5, 2008
Happy Birthday, Little Pea and Congratulations America
Yesterday was L's 3rd birthday. She was so excited to be the birthday girl and flirted with her guests and played with each of her presents for hours. Her grandparents also organized a spectacular Kaspertheater.
It was a bit of a crazy day. In the wake of the moving craziness last week, I had spent 2 days running around procuring enough ingredients to make cake for 25 children at Kindergarten, another cake for family and enough food to feed a dozen people. We ended up having a few drop ins so there I was baking cake, lasagne and chicken pepperoni for everyone in the kitchen while the doorbell kept ringing. I intentionally made too much food, thinking we could eat leftover for the rest of the week but I thought wrong - every crumb was consumed.
Unfortunately, now we have no food until Monday, which is my regular shopping day. So as I write this I am a bit peckish.
Yesterday was also an important day for other Americans besides L because that's the day America elected Barrack Obama as president. We explained to L this morning that she got a new president for her birthday but she was more impressed with her new Lego zoo. Ralf and I are terribly relieved, however. George's 2nd term in office was hard on us - Ralf was plunged into depression after the last election and although I was not a particularly political person at the time, I fumed inwardly at anyone I suspected of having Republican connections. See, it was the first time I had cared enough to vote and I was devastated that the election didn't go my way.
Looking back, however, I am grateful to George and all the idiots who voted for him because I think without him change would not have been possible. Of course, Obama is not the change but his election signals a willingness to change and perhaps a belated recognition that the Republican party no longer stands for the fine conservative ideals it used to stand for back in Eisenhower's day. Also I think nothing will pep up the US economy right now like a charismatic president.
So, thank you, George. And thank you, idiots.
It was a bit of a crazy day. In the wake of the moving craziness last week, I had spent 2 days running around procuring enough ingredients to make cake for 25 children at Kindergarten, another cake for family and enough food to feed a dozen people. We ended up having a few drop ins so there I was baking cake, lasagne and chicken pepperoni for everyone in the kitchen while the doorbell kept ringing. I intentionally made too much food, thinking we could eat leftover for the rest of the week but I thought wrong - every crumb was consumed.
Unfortunately, now we have no food until Monday, which is my regular shopping day. So as I write this I am a bit peckish.
Yesterday was also an important day for other Americans besides L because that's the day America elected Barrack Obama as president. We explained to L this morning that she got a new president for her birthday but she was more impressed with her new Lego zoo. Ralf and I are terribly relieved, however. George's 2nd term in office was hard on us - Ralf was plunged into depression after the last election and although I was not a particularly political person at the time, I fumed inwardly at anyone I suspected of having Republican connections. See, it was the first time I had cared enough to vote and I was devastated that the election didn't go my way.
Looking back, however, I am grateful to George and all the idiots who voted for him because I think without him change would not have been possible. Of course, Obama is not the change but his election signals a willingness to change and perhaps a belated recognition that the Republican party no longer stands for the fine conservative ideals it used to stand for back in Eisenhower's day. Also I think nothing will pep up the US economy right now like a charismatic president.
So, thank you, George. And thank you, idiots.
Just another day
Last Thursday all our stuff came from California: circa 157 boxes, 3 sofas, a queen bed, 2 kids’ beds, various kids’ furniture, chests of drawers, coffee tables and side tables, televisions, clothes, shoes, toys, kitchen stuff. . . which would have been great if we had been sitting her in an empty house. However, we left our old furniture in our German house when we moved to California and bought all ‘new’ stuff on Craig’s List so finding space for everything has been a challenge and our living room is as crowded as a Turkish opium den.
But let me back up a bit, because receiving a gimongous container of stuff isn’t that exciting and wouldn’t normally merit more than a passing mention. But there’s more: As I explained in my last posting, Ralf was in Dublin for a couple of days. He was supposed to come back Wednesday night but missed his flight, which also meant we missed our chance to schlep the furniture we know we’re getting rid of into the garage. It also meant that at 8AM Thursday morning I was facing 4 burly young Bavarian men and one scrappy one who kept saying ‘Hello’ and ‘Thank you’ to me in English but nothing else. German blue collar workers don’t generally like dealing with the lady of the house - I gather this is because 'she' tends to be indecisive and wants to try out all the heavy stuff in several different positions before committing - and these guys were no exception. Me being American wasn’t cutting any ice with them, either, except maybe the scrappy guy. They ignored me as much as possible until Ralf got home before lunch while I slunk around after them trying to make sure they didn’t break anything and feeling very much in the way.
Anyway, a lot of hard physical lifting and sorting was done by all and somehow the trucks were unloaded (but not unpacked) shortly after 2 PM. I had a call at 4 and was in a tizzy because I’ve been ‘applying’ for an international mommy group and didn’t want to miss their Halloween party. In the end I called in a few IOUs and sent Ralf, who was of course delighted to go and didn’t have anything else to work on. Unfortunately, my call got canceled so it ended up being a lot of logistical stress for nothing. This was not such a bad thing for me because I had plenty of work to catch up on but from Ralf’s point of view the afternoon was a wash. When he later asked me how my call went I considered lying but ended up blurting out the truth and watching various expressions cross his face, none of them good. Finally, after sharing a few pointed observations with me that I will not repeat here, he stalked out of the room only to have his dramatic exit blocked by piles of boxes.
I’ve been trying to create the impression of a fairly stressful day but amazingly, it got even worse. toward the end of the day. Once the kids got home, wired from the Halloween party, K’s friend Kaye came over to play and the first thing they did was climb up on the highest piles of boxes containing glassware and use them as a sort of high, dangerous path around the room with L standing underneath the most rickety pile of boxes and K rocking back and forth overhead. This activity was quickly forbidden and segued into the less dangerous but more annoying game of opening boxes at random and pulling everything out that looked interesting.
Still doesn't sound that bad? Well, then K gave one of her Halloween candies to Kaye, who immediately began choking and gasped something about a peanut allergy. Then, as I was frantically searching the Internet to find out if Twix actually has peanuts I heard a strange popping sound, which later turned out to be exploding potatoes that I forgot to poke with a fork before baking. Meanwhile in the background L was running around with no diaper screaming, ‘Caca! Wipe me! Wipe meeeeeeee!’ This would have been the right moment for the cat to drag in a dead mouse or throw up on the new carpet - a car crashing through the wall or a massive pipe bursting would also not have been out of place - but fortunately the exploding potatoes seemed to herald the end of the destruction.
Now for the good news: You’ll be happy to hear that in the meantime we have unpacked many of the boxes and the rooms where we do most of our living are inhabitable now. You will also be glad to know that Kaye lived and in fact never swallowed any peanut products at all. And that L’s caca scare was also a false alarm. And that I was able to get most the potato bits out of the oven. And finally, I am sure you will be relieved to hear that Ralf was a hit with the other mommies and we have been officially invited to join the group.
But let me back up a bit, because receiving a gimongous container of stuff isn’t that exciting and wouldn’t normally merit more than a passing mention. But there’s more: As I explained in my last posting, Ralf was in Dublin for a couple of days. He was supposed to come back Wednesday night but missed his flight, which also meant we missed our chance to schlep the furniture we know we’re getting rid of into the garage. It also meant that at 8AM Thursday morning I was facing 4 burly young Bavarian men and one scrappy one who kept saying ‘Hello’ and ‘Thank you’ to me in English but nothing else. German blue collar workers don’t generally like dealing with the lady of the house - I gather this is because 'she' tends to be indecisive and wants to try out all the heavy stuff in several different positions before committing - and these guys were no exception. Me being American wasn’t cutting any ice with them, either, except maybe the scrappy guy. They ignored me as much as possible until Ralf got home before lunch while I slunk around after them trying to make sure they didn’t break anything and feeling very much in the way.
Anyway, a lot of hard physical lifting and sorting was done by all and somehow the trucks were unloaded (but not unpacked) shortly after 2 PM. I had a call at 4 and was in a tizzy because I’ve been ‘applying’ for an international mommy group and didn’t want to miss their Halloween party. In the end I called in a few IOUs and sent Ralf, who was of course delighted to go and didn’t have anything else to work on. Unfortunately, my call got canceled so it ended up being a lot of logistical stress for nothing. This was not such a bad thing for me because I had plenty of work to catch up on but from Ralf’s point of view the afternoon was a wash. When he later asked me how my call went I considered lying but ended up blurting out the truth and watching various expressions cross his face, none of them good. Finally, after sharing a few pointed observations with me that I will not repeat here, he stalked out of the room only to have his dramatic exit blocked by piles of boxes.
I’ve been trying to create the impression of a fairly stressful day but amazingly, it got even worse. toward the end of the day. Once the kids got home, wired from the Halloween party, K’s friend Kaye came over to play and the first thing they did was climb up on the highest piles of boxes containing glassware and use them as a sort of high, dangerous path around the room with L standing underneath the most rickety pile of boxes and K rocking back and forth overhead. This activity was quickly forbidden and segued into the less dangerous but more annoying game of opening boxes at random and pulling everything out that looked interesting.
Still doesn't sound that bad? Well, then K gave one of her Halloween candies to Kaye, who immediately began choking and gasped something about a peanut allergy. Then, as I was frantically searching the Internet to find out if Twix actually has peanuts I heard a strange popping sound, which later turned out to be exploding potatoes that I forgot to poke with a fork before baking. Meanwhile in the background L was running around with no diaper screaming, ‘Caca! Wipe me! Wipe meeeeeeee!’ This would have been the right moment for the cat to drag in a dead mouse or throw up on the new carpet - a car crashing through the wall or a massive pipe bursting would also not have been out of place - but fortunately the exploding potatoes seemed to herald the end of the destruction.
Now for the good news: You’ll be happy to hear that in the meantime we have unpacked many of the boxes and the rooms where we do most of our living are inhabitable now. You will also be glad to know that Kaye lived and in fact never swallowed any peanut products at all. And that L’s caca scare was also a false alarm. And that I was able to get most the potato bits out of the oven. And finally, I am sure you will be relieved to hear that Ralf was a hit with the other mommies and we have been officially invited to join the group.
October 29, 2008
Honeypiemama
Ralf’s in Dublin. That means I’m on my own in the morning with the kids. K is thrilled because she gets to sleep in our bed and of course L comes at 5AM and we all snuggle together like a pack of wild dogs in a cave. Then the cat comes to respectfully request to be let outdoors. As punishment for the early hour I pick him up (gently), pet him (he’s very soft) and lock him in the pantry with his litter box. Later I wish I’d let him out.
It’s still pretty early (6:30 AM) so there’s time for a bit of play before school. I attempt to check email and fire off a bunch of quickly composed, terse replies that I hope don’t offend anyone.
Then it’s time to go to school. K can ride a bike now, better that me in fact, and wants to do this all the time now. Unfortunately it is raining so we compromise on the bike attachment where the girls can sit in comfort while I freeze and get wet. We get to the school without incident – actually that’s not quite true as the bike falls over on someone’s dog when the girls climb out but no injuries - and I attempt to dry off my glasses before heading home again.
The rain has just been toying with me up until this point and really lets go on my way home. I am wet, frazzled, frumpy (dressed for the gym later) and my hair is pushed up on my head because my ear warmers are riding up. I pass a couple of smartly dressed business people, who eye me without interest and maybe just a glimmer of pity. I wonder if they realize that here goes one of the great HCM strategic thinkers of our time. I want to go back and tell them but they won’t believe me and anyway, they probably don’t even know what HCM is.
This train of thought leads me to wonder how many of the schlumpy - albeit not so schlumpy as me - moms I see when I drop off the girls also hold down jobs and occasionally even clean up respectably.
I arrive home, again dry off my glasses, and get back to work.
It’s still pretty early (6:30 AM) so there’s time for a bit of play before school. I attempt to check email and fire off a bunch of quickly composed, terse replies that I hope don’t offend anyone.
Then it’s time to go to school. K can ride a bike now, better that me in fact, and wants to do this all the time now. Unfortunately it is raining so we compromise on the bike attachment where the girls can sit in comfort while I freeze and get wet. We get to the school without incident – actually that’s not quite true as the bike falls over on someone’s dog when the girls climb out but no injuries - and I attempt to dry off my glasses before heading home again.
The rain has just been toying with me up until this point and really lets go on my way home. I am wet, frazzled, frumpy (dressed for the gym later) and my hair is pushed up on my head because my ear warmers are riding up. I pass a couple of smartly dressed business people, who eye me without interest and maybe just a glimmer of pity. I wonder if they realize that here goes one of the great HCM strategic thinkers of our time. I want to go back and tell them but they won’t believe me and anyway, they probably don’t even know what HCM is.
This train of thought leads me to wonder how many of the schlumpy - albeit not so schlumpy as me - moms I see when I drop off the girls also hold down jobs and occasionally even clean up respectably.
I arrive home, again dry off my glasses, and get back to work.
Drop Trou
On Sunday morning when we have no other plans, the whole family goes to Sportscheck, which is a chic sports club. They have quality childcare, real horses to ride and pet and a good Italian family restaurant that we like a lot. German sports clubs are not as dramatically different from their American counterparts as grocery stores (see my Tengelmann posting) but they do have their differences. For example, the truly athletic wear all black, presumably so they’ll look like master race ninjas. Also you are expected to wipe down your machine when you’re finished with it - it is considered very poor taste to leave yout sweat on a machine. And in the locker rooms nakedness is not so much flaunted as celebrated, which violates my American puritan ethics. Anyway, except for the tacky naked cavorting going on in the locker rooms, Sportscheck is a classy establishment and Ralf and I like going there a lot.
So there we were in the restaurant, which was fairly crowded, and I have to say with all the love in the world that our beautiful kids were not looking their best. K has grown about 3 inches in the last month and her pants cuffs were practically up to her knees. Her hair, always a bit wild and not unlike candy floss, was all over the place and she had several large mosquito bites on her face. L was wearing a mismatched shirt and pants (after a very smelly and regrettable accident in the nursery) and a large pair of winter boots that forced her to goose step around without bending her knees. They immediately began jumping around and making noise, something that is frowned on in Germany in public eating establishments. Ralf, who had no trouble getting back in touch with his uptight German roots when it comes to brushed hair and matching clothes that fit properly, was trying to get the girls back into some semblance of order when L suddenly dropped trou and squatted in the middle of the restaurant.
I’m afraid that my first reaction was to burst out laughing. You have to understand that this sort of thing had never happened to us before so my response was neither practiced nor appropriate. K was in a diaper well into her threes and even L always seemed to understand the basic principles of keeping your pants on. And yet, there she was, squatting on the floor of our favorite family restaurant with a purposeful look on her face. It took me a couple of seconds to process the situation and stop shrieking with mirth, but when it sunk what was about to happen in I moved fast and somehow managed to avoid disaster. Picture a nice restaurant in, say, Walnut Creek and the same thing happening to a seedy-looking, sweaty German family, and the German mom scooping up her kid like a football and running off with her while babbling in German, and you’ll get the idea of what all this probably looked like to the other Germans in the restaurant.
You’ll be happy to know that L kept the lid on while we ran downstairs to the bathroom and seemed only mildly put out by the interruption.
So there we were in the restaurant, which was fairly crowded, and I have to say with all the love in the world that our beautiful kids were not looking their best. K has grown about 3 inches in the last month and her pants cuffs were practically up to her knees. Her hair, always a bit wild and not unlike candy floss, was all over the place and she had several large mosquito bites on her face. L was wearing a mismatched shirt and pants (after a very smelly and regrettable accident in the nursery) and a large pair of winter boots that forced her to goose step around without bending her knees. They immediately began jumping around and making noise, something that is frowned on in Germany in public eating establishments. Ralf, who had no trouble getting back in touch with his uptight German roots when it comes to brushed hair and matching clothes that fit properly, was trying to get the girls back into some semblance of order when L suddenly dropped trou and squatted in the middle of the restaurant.
I’m afraid that my first reaction was to burst out laughing. You have to understand that this sort of thing had never happened to us before so my response was neither practiced nor appropriate. K was in a diaper well into her threes and even L always seemed to understand the basic principles of keeping your pants on. And yet, there she was, squatting on the floor of our favorite family restaurant with a purposeful look on her face. It took me a couple of seconds to process the situation and stop shrieking with mirth, but when it sunk what was about to happen in I moved fast and somehow managed to avoid disaster. Picture a nice restaurant in, say, Walnut Creek and the same thing happening to a seedy-looking, sweaty German family, and the German mom scooping up her kid like a football and running off with her while babbling in German, and you’ll get the idea of what all this probably looked like to the other Germans in the restaurant.
You’ll be happy to know that L kept the lid on while we ran downstairs to the bathroom and seemed only mildly put out by the interruption.
Kaye
One of the things I regretted while we planned our move back to Germany was that we’d lose our great neighbors. Not only were they good people to live next door to, they have a daughter about the same age as K and a 7-year-old son that L had a huge crush on. However, fate has smiled on us in that department. After we moved to California the German neighbor scene shuffled a bit as these things do and now there’s a little girl living right next door that is about the same age as K and L has a huge crush on her as well. She’s a very nice and polite-spoken little girl who sometimes seems almost too good to be true. When she comes over to play she chats me up almost professionally (“Hallo, Frau Schroeder, how lovely you look today, is that a new shirt?”) before making her play for snacks, an episode of the Bugaloos, etc.
She’s not angling for candy or chips, however – in fact, she doesn’t eat any junk food at all and once, when I offered her a piece of buttered white toast, informed me that she only likes whole grain toast. If I offer chips she politely refuses and requests fruit so now I buy apples just for her. For dinner (according to her mother) she eats all the broccoli she can get her hands on, while my kids munch on chicken nuggets, fish sticks and whatever fruit or vegetables I can hide in tomato sauce, popcycles or brownies. So, she’s not exactly good for my maternal ego when I compare her manners and eating habits to those of my own offspring, but she does seem to be good for K. Not in the sense that K has seen the light and now eats fruit of her own free will, but in the sense that she has someone to play with in the afternoon and doesn’t feel quite so homesick.
She’s not angling for candy or chips, however – in fact, she doesn’t eat any junk food at all and once, when I offered her a piece of buttered white toast, informed me that she only likes whole grain toast. If I offer chips she politely refuses and requests fruit so now I buy apples just for her. For dinner (according to her mother) she eats all the broccoli she can get her hands on, while my kids munch on chicken nuggets, fish sticks and whatever fruit or vegetables I can hide in tomato sauce, popcycles or brownies. So, she’s not exactly good for my maternal ego when I compare her manners and eating habits to those of my own offspring, but she does seem to be good for K. Not in the sense that K has seen the light and now eats fruit of her own free will, but in the sense that she has someone to play with in the afternoon and doesn’t feel quite so homesick.
October 27, 2008
Remote working mom seeks sanity
A lot of people have asked me how I’ve adjusted to working remotely from Munich. Professionally I make it work by being available during the overlap hours, which is after 8PM here. From a family perspective I make it work by picking my kids up at 3 and spending the afternoon with them until it’s time for bed. But personally, I have to say that working from home in a different time zone isn’t nearly as glamorous as it sounds. Sure, you can lounge around in PJs until noon and work without interruptions but it’s a lonely business. I’m pathetically grateful when I see one of my colleagues working late on Skype or when I get an email message during my normal working hours. And sometimes I worry that I’ll wind up doing some geeky chair dance on my web cam and posting it to YouTube.
But I can’t complain. After all, I married a German. There was always that chance we’d live in Germany.
Let me take you on a quick tour of a typical day:
Sometime between 4-6 AM one of our daughters climbs into bed with us and it's a crap shoot whether more sleeping is to be had after that. If everyone isn't already awake by 7 the cat starts meowing, which gets the household into motion. Ralf makes coffee (that’s his job since I watch the kids every afternoon while he works) and at some point we remember that the kids need to be at school before 8:30 - this somehow catches us off guard every morning - and the rush to make breakfast, pack lunches and get everyone dressed (warmly) ensues. Once the kids are out of the house I sit in front of my computer with a second cup of coffee and peruse my email, wincing (we’re in the middles of system testing our latest release so emails usually involve more work than a 2-liner) and, I'm afraid, muttering to myself.
At some point I either drive to the gym or blow it off and get dressed. Or, if it’s Monday, I go shopping at Tengelmann’s, an experience that has merited it's own posting. Then I get to work in earnest, either writing detailed design documents or testing or preparing presentations for various events and customer meetings or researching the state of the talent management market. Although I’m a Human Capital Management generalist, I feel a special affinity for compensation because it: 1) involves math; and 2) it isn't as hard as payroll, benefits and general ledger.
At 2:30 I shut down my computer and pick up the kids. Then we play a bit in the playground outside our house and do various things of that kind until it’s time for dinner, a half hour of TV, a story and bed. Then I start my calls. . .
Sometimes I have a call before the kids go to bed and that gets really interesting. If one were to eavesdrop on various conversations it might sound something like this:
' ‘Y’know. I think I need to get off now. I’m really sorry. Let’s hook up later or tomorrow. Rightsorrybye!’
But I can’t complain. After all, I married a German. There was always that chance we’d live in Germany.
Let me take you on a quick tour of a typical day:
Sometime between 4-6 AM one of our daughters climbs into bed with us and it's a crap shoot whether more sleeping is to be had after that. If everyone isn't already awake by 7 the cat starts meowing, which gets the household into motion. Ralf makes coffee (that’s his job since I watch the kids every afternoon while he works) and at some point we remember that the kids need to be at school before 8:30 - this somehow catches us off guard every morning - and the rush to make breakfast, pack lunches and get everyone dressed (warmly) ensues. Once the kids are out of the house I sit in front of my computer with a second cup of coffee and peruse my email, wincing (we’re in the middles of system testing our latest release so emails usually involve more work than a 2-liner) and, I'm afraid, muttering to myself.
At some point I either drive to the gym or blow it off and get dressed. Or, if it’s Monday, I go shopping at Tengelmann’s, an experience that has merited it's own posting. Then I get to work in earnest, either writing detailed design documents or testing or preparing presentations for various events and customer meetings or researching the state of the talent management market. Although I’m a Human Capital Management generalist, I feel a special affinity for compensation because it: 1) involves math; and 2) it isn't as hard as payroll, benefits and general ledger.
At 2:30 I shut down my computer and pick up the kids. Then we play a bit in the playground outside our house and do various things of that kind until it’s time for dinner, a half hour of TV, a story and bed. Then I start my calls. . .
Sometimes I have a call before the kids go to bed and that gets really interesting. If one were to eavesdrop on various conversations it might sound something like this:
October 26, 2008
Cookies
Tired today. Last night L refused point blank to wear a diaper to bed. She’s not quite 3 so it’s not like you can argue with her about logical consequences. Her killer argument is to scream as loudly as she can until you cave. So, we let her go to bed with no diaper, then before we went to bed I snuck in and changed her while she was sleeping. Feeling quite pleased with myself I went to bed, only to be woken up out of a deep sleep by L, who had had been very busy in her diaper. I wiped her down and tried to put a new diaper on but again she refused. Figuring she might make it through the rest of the night, and wanting to avoid a screaming match, I allowed this and went back to bed. At 3 AM there she was again, this time with a wet bed. I changed her sheets and this time insisted on the diaper and tried to go back to bed – this time she followed me. Although we were religious with K sleeping in her own bed, with L we were a bit laxer because L doesn’t think she’s entitled to something every day just because she does it once. They’re different kids and we’re different parents with them. But sometimes it comes back to haunt us, as last night demonstrated. On the other hand, if she sleeps she’s pretty easy to sleep with – she breathes quietly and doesn’t move much and is very cuddly and fragrant. So eventually we all got back to sleep, only to be woken up by K an hour later. K joined us and immediately begin asking in a loud voice for cookies. Once we got her quieted down the cat came in and started meowing to be let outside and then everyone was up.
Let me explain this. Before we had kids, Ralf and I would sleep until 10 then enjoy a cup of coffee with something chocolaty in bed until we felt like getting up. These were good years for the cat, too, because we would pet him while we drank our coffee. Once we had K we were unwilling to give up these quiet moments so we would give her a bottle with water while we enjoyed our morning routine. Once she got old enough to want cookies for herself, we started getting up early to have our coffee and sweet before she came. After all, cookies are bad for little teeth. Once L arrived, however, the cat was out of the bag. No matter how early we woke up they would hear us and sense the cookies and come so a new morning routine was born where we all sit in bed together and munch cookies while mommy and papa drink their coffee.
This is supposed to be a treat that is earned, i.e., we trade cookies for peace and quiet, but I can’t say it has ever worked out that way since the very early days. Now that the newness has worn off they are constantly angling for extra cookies, fighting over each others’ cookies and generally jumping around on the bed while Ralf and I try to enjoy our coffee. You might wonder how we got ourselves into this fix when the outcome is so obvious but it started out pretty well and deteriorated pretty gradually. We are constantly threatening no more cookies but it’s an empty threat because I’m addicted and unwilling to get up at 5AM and they know it. So basically, mornings aren’t much fun around here. ;-)
Sadly, on the few days the children are not here in the morning, like when they visit their Moma and Popa (Ralf’s parents) the cat usually manages to barf in the wee hours. We are a well-run household where someone is always available to wake up mommy and papa.
The cat is also the loser under this new children’s regime – gone are the days when he gets gently petted in the morning in a nice, quiet room. Instead he gets yelled at for waking everyone up (rightfully so) and pounced on by small children (which kind of serves him right for waking everyone up).
Let me explain this. Before we had kids, Ralf and I would sleep until 10 then enjoy a cup of coffee with something chocolaty in bed until we felt like getting up. These were good years for the cat, too, because we would pet him while we drank our coffee. Once we had K we were unwilling to give up these quiet moments so we would give her a bottle with water while we enjoyed our morning routine. Once she got old enough to want cookies for herself, we started getting up early to have our coffee and sweet before she came. After all, cookies are bad for little teeth. Once L arrived, however, the cat was out of the bag. No matter how early we woke up they would hear us and sense the cookies and come so a new morning routine was born where we all sit in bed together and munch cookies while mommy and papa drink their coffee.
This is supposed to be a treat that is earned, i.e., we trade cookies for peace and quiet, but I can’t say it has ever worked out that way since the very early days. Now that the newness has worn off they are constantly angling for extra cookies, fighting over each others’ cookies and generally jumping around on the bed while Ralf and I try to enjoy our coffee. You might wonder how we got ourselves into this fix when the outcome is so obvious but it started out pretty well and deteriorated pretty gradually. We are constantly threatening no more cookies but it’s an empty threat because I’m addicted and unwilling to get up at 5AM and they know it. So basically, mornings aren’t much fun around here. ;-)
Sadly, on the few days the children are not here in the morning, like when they visit their Moma and Popa (Ralf’s parents) the cat usually manages to barf in the wee hours. We are a well-run household where someone is always available to wake up mommy and papa.
The cat is also the loser under this new children’s regime – gone are the days when he gets gently petted in the morning in a nice, quiet room. Instead he gets yelled at for waking everyone up (rightfully so) and pounced on by small children (which kind of serves him right for waking everyone up).
'You can have that one'
Both children like to cuddle with me in the morning, which I love unless: 1) I haven’t finished my coffee yet; 2) they fight about it; or 3) both, which is usually the case. It goes something like this: whichever child wakes up first comes into bed with us. If it’s L she might fall asleep again, if it’s K no chance. At some point after this both girls are clamoring for cookies and eventually Ralf caves and goes downstairs to make the coffee. K runs after him and brings the cookies back upstairs and both girls immediately start fighting over the cookies. By the time Ralf shows up with the coffee everyone’s yelling, including me. Then there are about ten seconds of silence while the girls eat their cookies and Ralf and I desperately sip coffee. At this point one of two things happens: 1) someone starts clamoring for a second cookie; or 2) everyone wants to lay on mommy. Usually K kicks it off and comes for a cuddle, which is nice for about 2 seconds until L gets wind of it and comes to edge her out. Sometimes I wonder why they are both so jealous of each other when it comes to me since they both get (I think) plenty of parental love and attention. But there it is and cuddling all too often degenerates into tears over who gets to lay on Mommy’s right leg.
This morning was kind of cute, though. K made her opening bid for stretching out against me on my left and L immediately scented danger and arranged herself full-length on top of me, then casually rolled over to her right, thus cutting off her older sister. Despite the irritation this caused I had to admire her technique. K protested that L is selfish and always hogs all the choicer portions of Mommy. L sat up, pointed at Ralf and told K, ‘You can have that one.’
This morning was kind of cute, though. K made her opening bid for stretching out against me on my left and L immediately scented danger and arranged herself full-length on top of me, then casually rolled over to her right, thus cutting off her older sister. Despite the irritation this caused I had to admire her technique. K protested that L is selfish and always hogs all the choicer portions of Mommy. L sat up, pointed at Ralf and told K, ‘You can have that one.’
October 25, 2008
Rigatoni with Summer Squash, Spicy Sausage & Goat Cheese
An easy, tasty Fine Cooking recipe:
Salt (add to the water you cook the pasta in)
3 tbs olive oil
3/4 lb. spicy sausage
1/3 cup finely chopped challots (about 3)
2 3/4 cups yellow and green zuccini or squash
3 oz crumbled goat cheese or feta
2 tsp chopped parsley
fresh pepper for accent
1/4 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano (optional)
Boil pasta in salted water until not quite al dente.
While it cooks, heat 1/2 tbs oil and cook sausage until almost cooked through, about 3-5 min.
Transfer sausage to a bowl and wipe skillet.
Heat remaining 2 1/2 tbs oil in skillet and cook shallots until they begin to soften, then add squash and cook until just tender, about 3-5 min.
Reserve 1/2 cup of pasta water and drain pasta.
Add pasta back to cooking pot and toss in sausage, squash and 2 tbs. pasta water.
Cook over medium heat until sausage is cooked and pasta is al dente. Add water as necessary.
Remove from heat and add cheese and parsley.
toss until cheese melts, season to taste (salt, pepper) and serve with grated parmiagan.
Salt (add to the water you cook the pasta in)
3 tbs olive oil
3/4 lb. spicy sausage
1/3 cup finely chopped challots (about 3)
2 3/4 cups yellow and green zuccini or squash
3 oz crumbled goat cheese or feta
2 tsp chopped parsley
fresh pepper for accent
1/4 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano (optional)
Boil pasta in salted water until not quite al dente.
While it cooks, heat 1/2 tbs oil and cook sausage until almost cooked through, about 3-5 min.
Transfer sausage to a bowl and wipe skillet.
Heat remaining 2 1/2 tbs oil in skillet and cook shallots until they begin to soften, then add squash and cook until just tender, about 3-5 min.
Reserve 1/2 cup of pasta water and drain pasta.
Add pasta back to cooking pot and toss in sausage, squash and 2 tbs. pasta water.
Cook over medium heat until sausage is cooked and pasta is al dente. Add water as necessary.
Remove from heat and add cheese and parsley.
toss until cheese melts, season to taste (salt, pepper) and serve with grated parmiagan.
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