A Little Bit of Festive

I didn't grow up in a faith that celebrated Mardis Gras or observe Lent, but I find it more intriguing the older I get. Add to that the fact that I'm a parent now, and look for any excuse to celebrate something and/or dress my kid up in some sort of humiliating festive garb. Suddenly there are beads, and pancakes, and purple tablecloths!

We had a busy day on Fat Tuesday, visiting friends and playing in the sun. But we (I) managed to pull together our own little feast. We even ate on our wedding china, which we never use (Note: New Year Resolution #138--to use wedding china--accomplished!). It was delicious, and a great farewell to dairy, which I'm giving up for Lent this year (more whining on that later).

The Monkey (whom I shall henceforth refer to as Bam-Bam, due to his disproportionate, super-human strength that allows him to move things 3 times his weight) loved his first taste of pancakes and bacon (who wouldn't?), and he protested vehemently when there was no more. That's my boy!

Fly by the Seat of My Pants Fish Tacos

*When reading the title of this post in your head, please use your best Southern accent for full effect.

Remember when I said I have a hard time putting a recipe together correctly because I inevitably forget to buy a key ingredient (or 5)? (What??? You didn't read that post? Ouch! K. I think I'm over it.) Well, I'm actually becoming a bit more adept in the kitchen, in spite of myself. Last night I wanted to make something for dinner that my son could eat with us (I'm trying slowly to bridge the gap between his meals and ours, knowing my life will be much easier once that bridge is built and crossed.). My intent landed on Fish Tacos with Baked Sweet Potato "Fries". 

The Monkey hasn't had much exposure to fish, so I knew I needed to make it tasty, but healthy. I also didn't have the energy or time to drag us both out to the store before dinnertime, so I had to make do with what I had on hand. Thankfully, my husband (a.k.a. the guy who does most of the grocery shopping) has been keeping lots of fresh fruits and vegetables here, so it was a pretty easy feat.

To glaze the fries, I mixed 1 TBSP of honey with the juice of 1 whole lime. It was dee-lish!

I cubed 1 1/2 sweet potatoes and tossed them in the glaze; spread them on a baking sheet that had been sprayed with cooking spray; salted; and baked them at 450 for about 45 minutes. (Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture, so you'll have to wait until the end of this post to see how they turned out. Keep reading...please?)

The fish we had that needed to be eaten of choice was flounder. (Living in the Midwest, we mostly eat previously frozen fish, unless we plan a special dinner or eat out at our favorite sushi restaurant, which has their supply flown in daily <queue irrational breakfast sushi craving>. So the flounder was simply pre-packaged and pre-frozen.) I thawed, washed and thoroughly dried the filets, dipped them in egg, and breaded them with crumbs I made from toasted Ezekiel 4:9 bread. I sprayed a baking pan with cooking spray and baked them at 350 for about 20 minutes.

Before putting them in the oven

I made fresh Pico de Gallo from a variety of tomatoes, 1 jalapeño, 1/3 of a red onion, cilantro, and lime. I don't know how everyone else makes pico, but I start with the jalapeño, onion, and cilantro. I chop and mix those three ingredients and add tomatoes, lime, and salt to taste. Adding the tomatoes last, before the seasoning, keeps it very chunky--the way pico is intended to be, as opposed to salsa. I prefer to use cherry tomatoes, because they typically add the most color and flavor, but last night I used several different types.

I chopped up some purple cabbage we had, microwaved some corn tortillas, and voila!

*The above picture was taken with my iPhone. Not the best quality, but it's what I had readily available, and it did not require me to get up from my seat or delay my feast.

This was a pretty quick and easy--if random--process. Next time I will use cod or another white fish, instead of flounder. The flavor was good, but for my taste, it could've been better with a different fish. Otherwise, the Monkey, the guy who does the grocery shopping, and I all agree this dinner is a keeper.

What "fly by the seat of your pants" meals have pleasantly surprised you and your family?

The Hardest, Most Rewarding Job I've Ever Done

In years past, when I would ask my girlfriends how they liked staying home with their children, many of them would respond with, "It's the hardest thing I've ever done." As a single woman or even a married woman with no children, I just didn't understand how someone--who didn't have to get up, get dressed, go to work, and sit at a desk all day--could respond that way. Those women just didn't know how good they had it, or so I thought.

I haven't always wanted children, but I always knew that if I did have children, I would want to stay home with them. My Mom worked full time, and I still remember missing her...and her missing me. I had what I consider to be a very privileged childhood, and I learned my independence and gained my sense of individuality from my Mom. We were in a situation where both of my parents had to work, and they did the best they could.

Still, I knew what I wanted for my family, if I ever decided to have one. I now have everything I ever wanted. I don't have to get up, get dressed, go to "work," and sit at a desk all day. And it's the hardest thing I've ever done. (O.K., so breastfeeding was probably harder, but it was also temporary.) Now I understand.

Most mornings I work what feels like a full day before my son's 9 a.m. nap. If I were still getting paid to work and accomplished that much in two hours, I might blow the rest of the day off...or at least not work quite as hard. Oh yeah! I would also be sitting at a desk! There's no sitting here. Not in a chair, anyway. I don't even bother wasting my time trying to sit down. I eat my meals, drink my coffee, and do just about everything else standing up. (I do enjoy the occasional trip to the powder room, where I'm able to get off my feet for a full thirty seconds in most cases.)

But the physical labor isn't the only thing that makes it hard. It's hard because it requires all of me all the time. I don't leave or get off at 5 p.m. The only thing that changes in my world at the end of the work day is that I get to see my husband for a few minutes while we both work to cook dinner, clean up the mess, and get the Monkey ready for bed.

It's hard because I'm not applauded for an excellent presentation, when I arrange colorful fruits and vegetables in such a way that entices my son to eat them. I don't get "new business" referrals when my only existing client is pleased with my performance. And my boss doesn't reward me with a high score on my annual review, when I exceed his expectations in my ability to resolve the dirty diaper situation. There are no promotions or bonuses, unless I count the rare occasions I get 8 hours of sleep in one night.

And while I'm not being applauded for a job well done, I'm frequently being questioned and/or criticized for the job I'm doing, typically by total strangers. If I were in an office or at a desk still, I would just let it roll off my back, knowing they had no idea what they were saying. However, I'm not so confident in my new position. I don't know for sure, but I guess if I do an O.K. job, my son will be polite, confident, smart, and kind. That's what I want, but the day-to-day requirements to make that happen get a little foggy sometimes. So I tend to be sensitive to the comments of others. I'm working on that.

And really, what do I do all day? So many people ask me that, but I have no idea how to answer. I'd love to fill them in on our most recent play dates or time spent at the library or Nature Center, but my idea of a successful day is one with two naps and less than 3 fits.

When I start to get overwhelmed by the things that make this the hardest job I've ever done, I try to focus on the things I love about it; the things that also make it the most rewarding. I love that when I walk into a room full of brightly colored toys, grandparents, and wonderful people whose only desire is to give him what he wants so he'll like them, my son still only has eyes for me. I love that I get to see the look in his eyes when he understands how to match identical pictures together, or the first time he sees his shadow and knows it's him. I love that at the end of the day he just wants to rest his head on my shoulder and hear my airy, little girl voice sing The Bar of Soap Song and go to sleep. And I love that I occasionally hear him giggling and talking in his sleep; and I know that despite the tantrums, screaming, and tears, he knows he's loved and safe. That's enough of a performance review for now.

It's the thought that counts!

As I mentioned earlier, we celebrated the Monkey's birthday this past weekend. It was perhaps the most ambitious challenge I've tackled to date. Why? Because I got all crafty and stuff. O.K., so what I did may not count as "crafts" to the group of people I refer to as the Craft Mob (it's a term of endearment and admiration, promise!), but it's the craftiest I've ever been (barring, of course, those times I wormed my way out of being grounded as a teenager, but that's a whole different kind of crafty).

I made the invitations, decorations, and thank you notes. It was quite an exhausting, tedious eye opening experience! It's amazing what a girl can do with a package of card stock, scissors, Scotch tape, and the absence of a well compensating career (yes, I know being a Mom is it's own reward, blah, blah)! Oh, and there's the computer (I used the Pages program) and printer too.

I have a long way to go before being asked to join the Craft Mob, but I'm naively still sharing a sample here. I also learned that I enjoy "crafting," if that's what this is. I miss being creative at work, and using the skills I gained in the working world to make our family's memories special is the most fun I've had in quite some time. Besides, it's the thought that counts, right?

I did my best to dress up a cardboard cake stand
with the 30 minutes I had to do so.
I hid the dirty glass on my china cabinet with cutout stars.
And since I don't know the first thing about cupcake decorating,
I spelled out "Happy Birthday" with squares made of card stock,
taped to toothpicks. Look out, Martha! Here I come!