Hey, Y'all!

Sisters: A Relative Term

I never had a biological sister.  My mom was only able to produce me, so I grew up an only child.  A part of me would have liked a sister while growing up, though, honestly, siblings were never something I thought about all that much as a child or even a teenager.  I had my parents' attention and all my needs were met.  Though I was far from spoiled, I lived a comfortable, very happy life.  As I've grown older, there have certainly been times when a sister would have come in handy, like when my grandfather passed away,  during my mom's kidney transplant, and the at birth of my son.  I've been lucky enough to have a very tight couple of girl friends and they are as close to me as a sister could ever be.

However, about a year ago, I realized I'd entered into a special sisterhood of women without even realizing it--my internet friends.  I started a blog to keep my friends andfamily up to date on my life, then I started reading other people's blogs and realized it was a great way to network with other women with similar interests.  My first timid comments on my favorite blogs eventually turned into more confident comments, which turned into conversations with other bloggers, which led to emails, which led to my eventual first IRL meet-up with a blog friend.  Today, more than 2 years after I wrote my first blog post, I am lucky enough to have a strong network of women who are more than just contacts and casual acquaintances--they are my friends.  They are my sisterhood.

The beautiful thing about the internet is that it's there for you 24 hours a day.  Posts don't go away, unless the author chooses to delete them or the internet eats them, so unlike IRL, you can go back to a blog post and read it over and over again.  The sisterhood of women i have found has gotten me through a lot, especially in the past year. We have gone through pregnancy, labor, delivery, c-sections, crippling post-partum depression (some of us), our first year of motherhood and countless life-changing events together.  A subject one of us chooses about on one day may be exactly what's going on with 4 more of us the very next day  We understand each other in a way our husbands can't comprehend.  We celebrate together, cry together, commiserate together and laugh together.  We cheer for each other and our families.  We exchange pictures and stories about our kids and we offer one another advice.  If that's not the definition of a sister, I don't know what is.

My husband, son and I relocated from NYC to Alabama last year.  We moved to a community where we did not have a built-in support system and we've had a harder time than we'd imagined we would making friends.  I went from working at the top of my profession in New York to being a stay-at-home mom.  I adore staying home with my son, but there are days when I physically ache due to lack of female companionship. 

Enter my Blog Sisters.

These women, my friends, are always just a click away, eagerly awaiting my arrival with a funny story, a cute picture, or just a post that says "I get it."They support me in my comments section and my email inbox.  They encourage me to keep my chin up.  They send thoughts and prayers when my family is sick.  They are some of the best people I've ever met.

If you are one of the women I've gotten to know through blogging, I want to say "thank you."  Your friendship means the world to me and some days, your posts are what gives me the little push I need to perk up and push through my day.  I hope someday to meet each and every one of you IRL and give you the big ol' southern-accented hug you deserve.

This post is an entry for a sponsorship from the Sister Project to the Type A Mom Conference in Asheville, NC in September.  The Sister Project is a movement of  women who blog, share their art, and share their passions, celebrating sisterhood.

Comfort Food Saturday: Vanilla Almond French Toast

My darling husband, who is the better cook of the two of us, makes great breakfasts for us on the weekends.  This past weekend, he made my favorite--French Toast.  He decided to get creative and add some almond flavor.  The result was incredible.  Even Mr. Hi-I'm-Dean-And-I-Hate-Bread ate a slice.  This recipe is perfect for lazy Saturday mornings and tastes great with a big cup of coffee.

Warning: This is one of those recipes that doesn't have exact amounts.  Marcus says you hav to "feel" the right measurements. Um, thanks, honey.

VANILLA ALMOND FRENCH TOAST

• Bread:  I'd start with 2 slices per person, more if you're hungrier.  We use plain white bread, but any bread you like will do.

• 4-6 eggs (Again, depends on how many slices of bread you're using. You'll need enough egg wash to coat all your bread)

• 1-2 tablespoons of milk (to fluff up the egg wash)

• 1 capfull vanilla extract

• 1 capfull almond extract

• dash of cinnamon

In a bowl, beat the eggs.  Add a splash or two of milk until the egg wash is smooth, then stir in the vanilla and almond extrats and sprinkle in the cinnamon.  Dip each slice of bread into egg wash so that it coats the entire slice.  Place coated bread onto a hot griddle or pan and cook until lightly brown.  Flip and repeat on other side. 

SERVING SUGGESTIONS

We enjoyed our toast with regular syrup, but I imagine this would be even more delicious with a sprinkling of powdered sugar, a few fresh berries and maybe some slivered almonds. 

It's a great compliment to bacon. (What isn't?) 

 OH! And while you're here, why not scroll down and check out my 10 reasons I'm happy to be home with my family this weekend post?  I'm trying to get as many comments as possible so I can win a $100 sponsorship from COZI!  If you need enticement, there's a cute picture of Dean in that post. :)

Have a great weekend!

Top 10 Reasons I Am Excited To Stay Home With My Family This Weekend

The good folks over at COZI are offering 15 moms who didn't get to go to BlogHer a $100 sponsorship!  All we have to do is list the top 10 reasons we're glad we stayed home this weekend, then the blogs with the most comments WIN!  So please, please, please comment! 

And make sure you check out COZI. It's a great way to get organized!

My top 10:

10.  Marcus's 20 year high school reunion is tomorrow.  Ok, ready for a secret?  WE ARE NOT GOING. (Enter even MORE sadness over the fact that I had to miss BlogHer!)  We had planned to travel to DC at the end of last week and attend the reunion on Saturday.  Then we found out how much the reunion would cost.  $150 PER PERSON. Just for a 3-hour party.  There's an open bar, food stations and music, but that does not seem worth $300, especially when you consider the cost of airfare to DC.  So we're leaving on Tuesday instead to spend 2 weeks at my in-laws'.

9.  I can publish Comfort Food Saturday from the comfort of my own kitchen.

8.  More playtime with Dean!

7.  I didn't have to get a haircut so I'd look good at BlogHer. I can sit here and enjoy my split ends in the privacy of my own home.

6.  I didn't have to get "the wand" as I went through airport security. (I ALWAYS get the wand.  I must look dangerous.  What do you think?)

 

5.  My husband is making this for dinner tonight.

4.  I can read all about BlogHer from my friends on Twitter.  I can wear my PJ's while doing this.

3.  There's no sweet tea in Chicago.

2.  I have time to write articles for Foodie Mama.

1.  I can work all weekend to get myself a sponsor (or multiple sponsors) for Type-A Mom Conference!

I'm not at BlogHer, but I still plan to have fun!

Hi, everyone!  As many of you know, bloggers from all over are gathering at the Sheraton in Chicago as we speak.  It was my dream to be there and meet some of my favorite bloggers, but as you can see, that didn't happen.  My husband's 20 year high school reunion happened to fall on the same weekend, so I didn't make it this year. Alas and alack, and you better BELIEVE I'll be the first one to register next year!

Anyway, Robin at Pensieve is hosting a Blog Hop for those of us not able to make it to the conference.  If you're a blogger, head over there and sign up, then enjoy the blog hopping fun!

Alright, please allow me to introduce myself.  I'm Jen (JIN, if you're from the south), a 32 year old wife, mom, part-time college professor, stage manager, blogger and foodie.  I'm the Feeding Toddlers editor on a fantastic site called Foodie Mama and this here blog is my own little corner of the internet.  I've been blogging for about 2 and a half years.  It started out as a way to keep in touch with family and friends while my husband and I were out of town working, but then I found out I was pregnant, so it has morphed into a blog about parenting and life with a little boy.  Dean was born in January 2008 and is definitely the coolest person I know.

This is him:

(and that's me!)  He looks like his dad.  My husband, Marcus, is also quite awesome.  He is an AMAZING cook. Why, just this evening he made me some citrus teriyaki spareribs that were phenomenal. 

What's that in that previous paragraph, you say?  A LINK?? Why yes!  It's a link to one of my many recipes, featured on my weekly Comfort Food Saturday posts.  Check them out, you may find something you like.

I hope you'll stick around for a while and get to know me a little better (or at least look at all the cute pictures of Dean!).  My post for the Ultimate Blog Party back in March is a good one to check out to get the true flavor that is Jen.  And be sure to leave me a comment so I can hop over to YOUR blog!

Everyone have a fantastic weekend and happy blogging!

Southern-Fried RUDENESS

A lot of people have the misconception that NYC is a place full of rude people.  That is partially true.  The cab drivers smoke when you ask them not to, talk on the phone while driving, blast horrible music and grunt at you, store clerks never say thank you, barristas yell at you for not knowing EXACTLY what you want the second you step up to the register, and waiters often glare at you for making special requests when ordering food.  However, the NYC I knew was also full of very kind people.  The guy at the Italian deli across from our apartment gave us free food the day we brought Dean home from the hospital.  Uncle Louie at the Italian restaurant knew my voice when I called for take-out.  The chef at the Chinese restaurant down the block knew that Marcus liked bean sprouts in his fried rice, so she always threw in a few extra for him.  People spoke to us on the street.  If I struck up a conversation on a subway platform or in a store, the othe person would usually speak back. 

I tell you all this because one of the things I was really excited about when we moved back to the south was how polite the people are.   I have memories of growing up in a slow-paced place where everyone from the post office clerk to the man at the gas station knew my name and talked to me each time I went there.  People spoke on the street and waved when you let them pull out in front of you. 

My, how some things have changed. (NOTE: The south is still a wonderful, warm place almost all the time.  However, some days, things like this happen...)

This morning, I took Dean to the library to get some new reading material, play with the puzzles and maybe, just maybe, meet some other moms and kids.  The children's section was packed.  There were 7 or 8 kids playing and reading and two moms about my age sitting at one of the tables talking.  I smiled at them and said "Hi" as we approached, then started helping Dean put a puzzle together.  A little boy who was exactly Dean's size came up and started playing with us.  I spoke to him and we even read a few books together.  Then suddenly, the litle boy ran to the stacks, swept all three shelves of books onto the floor and climbed to the top of the bookcase.  As nicely as I could I said "Oh, goodness, where's your mommy?"  No volunteers.  After asking loudly 3 times "Who's this boy's mom?" I grabbed him before he flung himself to the floor, only to realize he had a rank-smelling poopy diaper.  I'm talking the kind that's been sitting for a while. (Moms, you know what I"m talking about.)  Still, no mom surfaced.  The two women at the kiddie table were still talking, never looking up to see what the 8 kids, who all seemed to belong to them, were up to.  I heard one of them exclaim "I have to paint the nursery before I get much more pregnant with this child because it is absolutely unacceptable."  The other concurred.  I went about my business of picking up after Dean, who found a huge puzzle containing approximately 500 pieces, all in the shape of bees, and looking for books.  I overheard one of the women say "Yeah, people with ONLY CHILDREN don't get it.  They barely qualify as mothers. Hahahahahahahhaahhaahaha."   Not even a "bless their hearts."  DUDE.  I quickly gathered up my toddler and our books about sheep on a ship, gorillas on a space shuttle and various Eric Carle stories and high-tailed it to the checkout counter.

As I was pulling out my library card, I heard the grandmother in front of me telling the clerk, "Yeah, these are our grandsons.  This one's really good, but the other one must have some learning disability.  It's really hard for me to take him anyplace.  I keep telling him he can't read these books to himself, so I'm not getting them for him any more.  He's a lot of trouble."  OH. MY. DEAR. LORD. GOD. IN. HEAVEN.  Please give him to me to adopt right now. RIGHT NOW!  Because if that's the best you can do?  That's SAD.

I don't expect people to come out of the woodwork to be friendly to us when we go out, but c'mon people.  A quick smile or a "hello" or a "gee, thanks for saving my toddler's life when he tried to kamikaze jump off the bookcase" isn't too much to ask.  I'm sure I've ignored kind people before, but I hope I've never done anything so bad that someone had to go home and blog about it.

So next time someone smiles at you in the store, take a second and smile back and say "hi."  (Pronounced "Hah" if you're me.)  Who knows?  You might meet someone fabulous.

Comfort Food Saturday: No-Bake Cookies

Growing up, we called these wonderful creations "Boiled Cookies."  My friend Paige and I made them all the time.  They combine all the best parts of a cookie:  chocolate, peanut butter and oatmeal.  My husband loves these and if there's a batch in our house, he usually has some for breakfast. (They are extra-delicious with coffee!) 

When we were at my parents' house for my mom's hip surgery, Marcus woke up one morning craving these cookies.  When we went to visit Mom at the hospital that day, there was a whole container of them that her friend Janet had made.  We begged for the recipe, she obliged, and now I pass it along to you.  They're easy, fast and fun to make.

NO-BAKE COOKIES

1 stick butter or margarine

1/2 cup cooca

2 cups sugar

1/2 cup milk

3 cups quick oats

1/2 cups peanut butter

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

 

In a saucepan, melt butter over medium heat.  Mix in cocoa, sugar, and milk.  Heat until bubbles form around side.  Remove from heat and add peanut butter, vanilla, and oats.  Drop on wax paper; cool.

Wordless Wednesday: Fishing Rodeo

 

 

Well HEY internet!

Did you think I died?  Or moved to Italy to eat pasta 'round the clock?  Or was just ignoring you?  NO.  We extended our stay at my parents' house for a couple of extra days so we could see my mom at home.  Truth be told, I think Marcus REALLY suggested we stay because he read in the paper that there was a kids' fishing rodeo on Saturday at the park by my parents' house and he wanted to take Dean.  It was a blast!  All the pictures are in Mississippi on my mom's camera, so I'll have to wait until she's back online to post them.  Dean caught 5 catfish, the biggest of which was 13 3/4 inches.  He didn't win a trophy, much to his dad's disappointment, but he did win a set of pool toys, which have proven very useful when rinsing his hair in the tub.  We got to spend a good amount of time with my dad and both grandmas and eat at some of our favorite Oxford places, so it was a fun week.

Know what wasn't fun?  Sleeping with Dean!  We put him to bed each night in the pack n play, which was situated next to the bed where we were sleeping.  He'd do ok until about midnight, then he'd stand up and start throwing things at me:  his pacifier (which he only gets at night-time now), Stu (his monkey), his blanket and anything he might be able to reach on the nightstand.  I'd finally give in and put him in bed between Marcus and me, lest he wake up everyone in the house.  Then I would sleep on the couch.  Our last night in town, my mom came home, so we were out of beds at her house.  Marcus, Dean and I spent that night at my grandma's (her name's Mim).  The plan was just to let Dean sleep with us, since she has a king-sized bed.  It seemed like a good idea at the time...  After jumping on the bed and squealing for over an hour and a half, Dean finally fell fitfully asleep, using my back as a punching bag for most of the evening.  Needless to say, I'm happy to be home where everyone's in their own bed.

SIDEBAR:  Marcus is mortified because I just offered the guys from Lowe's who came to pick up our BROKEN tractor (another post in and of itself) a string cheese.  Um, we don't have any sweet tea made!  And also I have no cookies because SOMEBODY who's married to me ate them for BREAKFAST! And they were supposed to come tomorrow! And we didn't realize they'd be so nice!  They didn't want a string cheese anyway, so there.

I've been off the internet a lot since we got home because I've been finishing tidying up for houseguests!  Our friends Laura and Austin and their little boy Max are coming tomorrow. I can't wait to see them.  We realized the other night that we haven't seen them in 10 years.  Our last double-date with them was in 1999.  We went to the casino in Shreveport, where we ate lobster at 4am before driving the hour back to school so we could make our 8am stage combat class. Good times!  It'll be so good to see them and let the boys play together.  It also gave me an excuse to go and buy a new shower curtain and bathroom rug and clean out my guest room.  I gotta say, there's nothing more therapeutic these days than a good, clean house. 

So if anything earth-shattering has happened to any of you, tip me off in the comments section so I can put your blog right at the top of my catch-up list!

Comfort Food Saturday: My Dad's Favorite

Please forgive my lack of posts this week!  We are at my parents' house in celebration of my mom's second hip replacement (Lefty), which happened on Wednesday.  She is doing remarkably well.  She had minimal pain, is eating well and even had the energy to send my dad and me on a coffee run tonight. Marcus, Dean and I had planned on going home today, but Mom should be out of the hospital tomorrow, so we want to spend a little more time with the family.  Plus, we just really like being here. 

Unlike when there's a funeral, people in the south don't always bring food when there's surgery.  If someone has had an operation, they tend to visit the hospital with treats like candy, cookies and flowers.  That means we've been eating out a lot this week.  I was brainstorming ideas for today's recipe while riding down the road with my dad and he said he wanted to contribute his favorite.  (Several of my IRL friends are jumping up and down right now because they think my dad is going to give the recipe for his secret spaghetti sauce.  Think again.)  Here's my dad's favorite, along with detailed instructions on how to obtain it.  Enjoy.

DAD'S FAVORITE

Drive to the nearest McDonald's.  Roll down window.  Tell the person taking your order that no, you do NOT want to try an iced mocha.  Order a #12 with a large Coke. Pull around to the first window. Pay.  Pull up to second window.  Receive food and drink. Check bag for mistakes.  Correct if necessary.  Drive away happy. 

*Enjoy with the dipping sauce of your choice if you prefer.

18 months

 Dean hit the 18 month mark yesterday.  For some reason, though, today has been the day that it's hit me.  He was born on January 5, but I didn't get to meet him until the 6th, given his and my fragile states.  I spent the evening of the 5th going in and out of consciousness, thanks to a hearty dose or morphine, and he spent it in the NICU.  Even though I was out of it, that was the longest night of my life.  All I wanted to do was see my baby.  I'd read all the books about how important it was to bond with your baby as soon after birth as possible, so all I could think was "Great. We really blew that one." (not that we really had a choice in the matter...)

Once I got my hands on my boy though, all those worries disappeared.  If there was bonding to catch up on, we did it immediately. Honestly, it was like we'd always known each other.  I recognized him, even though I was seeing him for the first time.  The second Marcus put him in my arms, he nuzzled against me, a perfect fit.  He opened his eyes briefly and looked at me as if to say "Oh, hey, mom," before snuggling up and falling asleep again.  Marcus rubbed his little hand and Dean grabbed his finger like it was his job.  It was official:  the three of us belonged together.

So the 6th is a special day for me each month, because that's the anniversary of the day Dean and I actually met face to face.  In some ways, I can't believe it's already been 18 months.  Where did the tiny infant with colic go?  When did he learn to run and talk and brush his own hair?  I already miss the baby he was, but I love the little boy he's becoming.

Here are the stats from his well baby visit today:

Length:  32 1/2 inches

Weight:  24 lbs. 12 1/2 oz.

Head:  18 3/4 inches (We are now in the 50th percentile instead of the 90th for head. I guess the rest of him is catching up.)

His motor skills seem to have improved overnight.  In the past week, he has gotten better at feeding himself with utensils and has even started trying to drink from a "real" cup.  As you can imagine, this usually means he has to change his shirt, but at least he's trying ,right?  We've taken away the pacifier, except at night, and he seems to be talking a lot more.  And he doesn't walk anymore...he runs. 

There were no shots at today's visit (Thank GOD!), but Dean screamed like he was being attacked by an army of needles when the doctor tried to look at him.  He never does that, so it was a little disconcerting.  The doctor assured us it was normal at this age, that maybe he remembers coming there for shots in the past.  Once we were done, he had a hash brown at McDonald's and seemed to be in better spirits.

This growing up thing is happening fast.  I've finally made peace with the fact that I need to get rid of some of his baby clothes, so our third bedroom is completely covered in out-grown outfits and toys.  Fortunately, we have 4 friends and family members who are expecting, 2 of them having boys for sure, so we've got lots of folks to share with.  In the back of Dean's closet, though, is a box containing a few items I just can't bear to part with.  The outfit he wore home from the hospital, a few of my favorite onesies from his first few weeks, some special gifts and a couple of outfits that are just too cute to give away, lest I desire to take them out and look at them every once in a while, will serve as reminders of the little baby he once was, not so very long ago. 

I feel like I'm going to wake up one morning and see a second grader sitting at my breakfast table. As much as I'd like to keep him a little baby in our own little universe, I'm actually looking forward to seeing what interests him as he grows, nurturing his love of books and the outdoors and watching him make friends.  Days like this remind me that the little guy I met 18 months ago isn't just my baby, he's my son.  I love him a whole bunch.