girlfiend

My laptop is in the shop again (people, it is foolish not to purchase the extended warranty, as the next time it goes in because of overheating or a faulty power supply -and I truly believe that there will, indeed, be a next time- I’ll probably get a new one.) so updating sort of sucks. I can either use Boyfiend’s slow work laptop or my old slow desktop and I’m way too impatient for that.

But life is good. The Fiendling is getting cuter and more grown up every day. The other night he fell asleep and I put him in the crib in his room, not the pack ‘n play in our room. I planned on leaving him there for night, for the first time. As we got ready for bed, Boyfiend asked, “He’s not sleeping in there is he?” I said that I’d planned on it. Boyfiend wasn’t too keen on the idea. He went into his room and brought him back into ours, which was good since he uncharacteristically awoke twice that night. He’s slept in our room ever since, and even though it will be nice when he sleeps in his own room I’m really glad Boyfiend wasn’t ready, because I wasn’t ready either. It’s good to have him close.

He’s getting more coordinated too. He can roll over from his tummy to his back and he’s gotten much better at holding onto things. Occasionally he even picks up a toy that he’s dropped. He sits up really well if he he’s propped on a pillow or if he has a hand to hold onto. Sometimes if I let go he doesn’t keel right over- he sits unassisted for a moment before slowly sinking forward. He plays for much longer periods of time, on his play gym or in the exersaucer. He’s also more interested in his surroundings. He’s content to sit awake on someone’s lap, just looking around.

Oh, and he giggles now. Once after a burp, a few times after kisses right below the ear. Last night he giggled in the shower. Was it the water or his dad’s naked body that was so funny? We are so lucky to have such a happy baby. Really, incredibly, indescribably lucky.

Tomorrow morning we’re heading back to my mom’s (for two nights, no longer) and we’ll be back here in the city for the 4th of July. AFter that we’ll probably go back to the shore for another night or two, then Boyfiend leaves for a sailing trip. That will be the first time I’ll be on my own with the Fiendling 24/7.

Random plug: For all of the parents reading or for those of you who have a baby gift to purchase, Babygadget is a kickass site.

Four is the number of nights we managed to stay at my mom’s before we couldn’t take it anymore. Well, before I couldn’t take it anymore. The french fry thing was bad, but when she made me and the Fiendling go for a trip to Sam’s Club with her, only she didn’t know where it was, it was kind of the last straw. It’s bad enough going to that hellhole, but after I’d gone in a 45 minute circle and we weren’t there yet and the Fiendling was crying and I was starving I thought I might kill her. I didn’t, even after I was forced to nurse the Fiendling while walking around the store. (Have I mentioned I’m good at multitasking?)

Then last night we watched My Date with Drew and I somehow managed not to kill her even when she spent the entire movie complaining about how creepy the guy Brian, who wanted the date with Drew was, even though he wasn’t creepy, he was just a big dork. The woman did not shut up for the entire 90 minute movie. Her voice makes me shudder.

Last night I overheard her complaining to Boyfiend about how unsophisticated my eating habits are because I didn’t like her cold cream of broccoli soup. Only I never said I didn’t like the soup. I’m sure she knew I could hear her, which is why she started whispering after she used the word unsophisticated. Such a bitch. Boyfiend insisted she didn’t say anything else, but I don’t know that I believe him. I just think he was trying to keep me from telling her that I’d hardly call her microwave cookbook recipes sophisticated.

I’m going to have to learn how to build up my resistance. She talks to hear the sound of her own voice and says the most ridiculous things which she immediately contradicts. And she’s mean. She picks fights. “Remember when you went on that bike trip? They called me and told me you cried because it was too hard. You were such a baby. Waah waah waah.” Um yeah, I remember that when I specifically said I wanted to stay home for the summer you sent me away on a bike trip when I hadn’t ridden a bike in five years. Remember that? I do. I also remember that it took about a week before my body got used to riding 30 miles a fucking day and it was hard enough being an adolescent girl without being the adolescent girl everyone else on the trip had to wait for at each stop. And why would you bring this up fifteen years later at breakfast?

So four nights, ended up being two nights too many. We’ll go back later next week but we’ll only stay for two nights. I think that keeping the visits short and sweet may save me. I can only keep from fighting back for so long.

I’m sitting in bed at my mom’s house in a wet t-shirt. This is rather unusual, as I can’t actually remember a time I did this on purpose. But alas, my breasts were the size of cantaloupes this morning and I needed to apply a cold washcloth before going back to sleep. I woke up sort of cold and wet, but the Fiendling hasn’t eaten and my right breast is still the size and texture of a softball. I really hope this morning’s engorgement is not indicative of another overproduction issue. Because that stretch of time, which took more than a month of recovery, really, really sucked.

You know what else sucks? My mother telling me I need to diet. When she said I shouldn’t have an English muffin with breakfast, that I should stick to the protein of eggs and bacon I got a little annoyed. When she made shoestrings for dinner (my mother, though she deep fries them, refuses to call them french fries. They are shoestrings.) she only made enough for herself and Boyfiend, I got really annoyed. Though I wasn’t on one, she inflicted a diet upon me. My mother decided I was on a low carb diet and shouldn’t eat fries. Sweet.

Yes, I want to lose weight. Yes, I still have 22 pounds to go before I’m back at pre-pregnancy weight. Yes, I am exercising and not eating cheesesteaks for dinner every day. But I exercised and watched what I ate before I even got pregnant. I eat junk food sometimes, but mainly I eat pretty well. I generally avoid stupid carbs, like processed white breads and stick to whole grains and whole wheat bread and crackers. But fries with dinner one night? It was so insulting.

I have lost a few more pounds. Not many, but I’m now at my fattest pre-pregnancy weight ever. I now weigh what I did when my mother sent me on a teen tour for a summer because she didn’t want me around. I sat on a bus and ate for a month and gained 15 pounds. We were at an amusement park and we played one of those games where the guy has to guess your weight within 2 pounds. I didn’t believe him when he guessed mine and I was mortified when I stepped on the scale and weighed 134. That’s what I weigh right now. At least it’s not 165.

I can fit into a few pairs of my old pants. They button and zip, but because of the squeeze factor and resulting muffin top, I don’t plan on wearing them for another 5 pounds. I’m just pleased they fit over my ass again.

So drooly. So cute.

Meatloaf

One lb meatloaf (pork, beef, veal) mix
One lb ground turkey (white meat or 7% fat)
Half a large vidalia onion or one small white onion chopped
one cup breadcrumbs or rolled oats (you can substitute a slice of bread torn into small pieces)
2/3 cup ketchup
3 large eggs ligthly beaten
fresh herbs- maybe a cup?
salt and pepper to taste- maybe half a teaspoon of each

knead with your hands to mix all ingredients- don’t overmix
bake in a nonstick or well greased loaf pan (free form works if you don’t have one)at 350 in a preheated oven for 60-75 minutes or until meatloaf reaches 160 degrees
drain fat and let sit for a few minutes before serving (serves 8 )

That’s the basic recipe- you can experiment from there. I change and add ingredients every time I make it depending on what’s in my house at the time. You can use any combination of ground meat. I use half turkey to make it slightly healthier. I like the meatloaf mix, but if I only have ground beef it works just as well.

The most important thing for me is the fresh herbs. I usually have fresh rosemary, cilantro, parsley and basil in the freezer (yes I know that’s frozen, not fresh but it’s not dried) and I’ll throw in enough so it looks like every bite will have some green in it. You can substitute with a few teaspoons of dried- any combination of basil, thyme, parsley or Italian seasoning will do- but really, fresh is better.

I throw in some parmesan cheese or mozzarella if the meatloaf’s heavy on Italian herbs.

You can also put a few strips of uncooked bacon on top before baking- Boyfiend loves it because of the bacony goodness and I don’t because it’s not crispy, but it does add some flavor. If you’re going that route you can make a ketchup/brown sugar glaze on top (1/4 cup ketchup mixed with 1/8 cup brown sugar or barbecue sauce if you’re lazy). It’s not my fave, but Boyfiend really likes it. I prefer savory to sweet.

Once you’ve made it a few times, you’ll get a feel for how you like it. Before then, you can take a spoonful of your mix and fry it quickly to see if you like how it tastes and adjust from there. And if you don’t want to cook inside you can make it into patties and grill it outside, like burgers.

While I’m at it, here’s a guacamole recipe. Not related, but it requires no cooking and it’s delicious.

Guacamole

3 ripe avacodos, halved, pitted and peeled
one small onion, chopped
3 jalapeno peppers, seeded and finely chopped
one small tomato, chopped
juice of 1 1/2 limes
slightly more than half a cup of fresh cilantro, cut into smallish pieces (Do not substitute with dried. Yuck.)
salt and pepper to taste

Mash the avocado with a potato masher or fork then add the remaining ingredients, mixing until everything’s combined. Serve with tortilla chips.

This, the best subject line ever, somehow evaded the spam folder: A miserable person is one who truly enjoys a fart but can’t

My little Fiendling was three months old yesterday. He wears overalls now, not just baby suits with feet.

He’s grown up so much in the past week. It’s incredible how quickly he learns how to do new things. All of a sudden he discovered that not only does he have hands, but those hands can grab and hold things. He went from flailing to grabbing in the space of a day and now he’s fascinated by his toys instead of just mildly amused.

I love that he holds things and plays with them now instead of just staring at them. It’s hard work, but he’s learning how to coordinate his hands and feet to shove his toys in his mouth.

He was so little when we brought him home. Scrawny. He screamed from hunger before my milk came in and we were exhausted and scared. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to feed my baby and terrified I’d never sleep again. Now look at him.

He’s such a little meatball, all pudgy and delicious. He has dimples on his hands and his elbows and michelin man thighs. And he eats so much he sleeps. For six, seven or eight hours in a row. He’s sturdy now. A real boy. My Fiendling’s a baby, not a newborn.

I am so happy.

Look at the shayna punim. See how cute she is? Now go to her fundraising site and help her get to Israel. Every good Jewish girl needs to visit the wall at least once, and she’s shamelessly begging for your help.

A few months ago, before the Fiendling was born, I emailed Lawmummy asking what she and her husband were considering for school options for their children. At the time they were anticipating sending their girls to a local public school. When I read on her blog that her daughter was interviewing at private schools I started following some of the links and reading some of the archives.

Right around my due date I began to panic about our decision to buy this house. I should preface this by saying that it’s everything either of us want in a house. We both wanted a big house that wasn’t too big. We wanted a house that was old and charming, not new and McMansiony. We wanted a yard with trees and Boyfiend was insistent that we have a garage where he could build things and repair cars. We needed a house in a neighborhood, where we could interact with people and walk places. Our old neighborhood, Fairmount, was perfect in many respects but unfortunately we couldn’t afford a larger house, especially one with a garage. So when we found this house, a beautiful Victorian, with wood floors and crown moulding and leaded glass windows and a second floor parlor with a wood burning stove and a beautiful yard with a detached two car garage in a neighborhood where we can walk to bars, restaurants, the supermarket, coffeeshops, the little Italian bakery, Bob’s Diner, Main Street Manayunk and the Wissahickon, we couldn’t resist. We put in a bid and it was accepted. Then I found out I was pregnant.

Everything sort of happened all at once. I was nauseous and tired and packing and moving and painting and unpacking and then after a short week in the house we went away to the Outer Banks for two weeks and then we were home, here, in our big beautiful house where we planned to raise our first child. Only the house is in the city. And the schools here? Not so hot.

When you live in the city you can either hope your child gets into one of the few good, desirable public schools, send them to Catholic school, or pay lots of money for private school. Catholic schools for me are not an option. I went to Episcopal as a kid and the stigma of being Jewish was too much for me to take by the time I hit fourth grade, so unless it’s a Jewish day school like Akiba, I’d be uncomfortable sending the Fiendling to any school with a religious affiliation. The private schools around here, especially the Quaker schools, are wonderful, but they’re expensive, up to $20,000 a year by high school plus an annual contribution. It’s crazy. And as for the public schools? I worked in Philadelphia public schools and it wasn’t pretty. I know not all of the schools are as a bad as the ones in ghetto North Philly, but frankly it seems risky. And for each of the sweet kids in the neighborhood, there’s a gang of teenage boys spitting and cursing and throwing rocks at Doodlebug’s car window.

I panicked. I spent days researching schools like crazy and trying to figure out if we’d be able to move to the suburbs by the time the Fiendling was school age. If we started him in public school in the city we’d be screwed if we didn’t move soon after, as most of the private schools don’t have openings after pre-kindergarten. It seems ridiculous, but it’s true. Getting your kid into private school is harder then getting them into college these days. Each grade level has just a few openings each year with hundreds of parents fighting to get their kids in. At Episcopal there were only a few “new kids” each year. And Philly schools aren’t terrible in the early elementary years. The balanced literacy program is actually pretty good, but after third grade things get kind of scary. When I taught sixth grade I had a gifted ten-year-old and a sixteen-year-old in the same class. That’s just not safe. But moving? I don’t want to move, I love this house, and Boyfiend really doesn’t want to move. More than anything else he’s against the idea of packing up all of our stuff.

After reading Lawmummy’s posts on Phillyblog I decided I trusted her opinion, so when I learned she was considering the local public school I figured it couldn’t be that bad and basically stopped panicking. But reading about her daughter’s private school interviews made me feel a little less sure of myself. I only have four years if it’s going to be private school, so if we’re going to have another kid, which Boyfiend wants and I’m not so sure about, we’d have to start trying next summer and I’d have to go back work probably before the second child is school-age so we’d have money, which opens up a whole other can of worms.

It’s all a lot to think about, especially since I initially started this post because I wanted to write about my breakfast- frozen Kashi waffles- because somewhere in her archives Kelly wrote that she didn’t understand frozen waffles, and frankly I don’t either. Usually I eat toast and fresh fruit for breakfast during the week (on weekends Boyfiend makes bacon egg and cheese on English muffins for us or sometimes pancakes) but I bought these stupid waffles on a whim months back and they’ve been in my freezer taking up space forever so I decided it was about time for me to eat them. I tried them back when I was pregnant, but they were gross with syrup and butter, so this morning I decided to experiment. I ate the first with apple butter (christ, I made that all the way back in October, it’s about time I ate some) and blueberries and it was surprisingly good. I ate the second with peanut butter, strawberry jelly (made by my father-in-law) with more fresh blueberries and that wasn’t so bad either.

The Fiendling just helped me vacuum. By helped, I mean he slumped like a dead weight in the baby carrier as I lugged the vacuum from room to room on the first and second floors. He’s such a good helper.