Small group

If you know me, you know I love food.  I once had someone say to me, "you know a lot of people say that they always think about food, but I'm pretty sure you actually do!"  Or as other people have put it, "you are a fat girl stuck in a skinny body."

In recent years, especially since leaving dancing, I've toned down my food voracity, but I still really, really love food.

This past week was my turn to cook for our small group.  I decided on Brazilian Style Seafood Stew from my absolute favorite cookbook ever (really the only one I use, since everything else I find online), The New American Plate.  It's healthy cooking with TONS of flavor.  The health emphasis is on getting as many different phyto-chemicals as possible.  Think "5 a Day the Color Way."

I don't have any pictures of the stew, but I do have a mildly amusing story:  The stew called for one serrano pepper.  The asterisk next to it notes to wear rubber gloves to handle fresh chilies.  I've cut up many a jalapeno before and thought nothing of this suggestion.  Well as a massage therapist I keep my nails very short.  On the day I cooked the stew I had cut my nails exposing the more tender/ thinner skin that is usually covered by nail.  I finished seeding and chopping both peppers (for a double batch) and had moved on to some very pungent garlic (please note my eyes are already watering from an onion), and the tips of my fingers begin to burn, followed by the skin between the bases of my fingers.  I washed my hands several million times, and even put baking soda on them, but nothing but cool water seemed to help.  I sat down on the couch for a while, because I was in sensory overload, and then baby went to town like he was Lars Ulrich during mandatory Metallica.  The kid did not stop kicking for like an hour and a half!

On the drummer note: I bought this super cute shirt at Target thinking Hubs would be so excited about his future potential rock star offspring ...

and the first thing Hubs says is, "yeah, but he better not be a drummer."  When I gave him a "what?" look he said, "all drummers are weird, and it's the drumming that makes them that way."  A simple, "aww, that's so sweet," would have worked for me, but whatever, next time I purchase something music related for our offspring I'll make sure it's a guitar, cello or piano (the approved list of instruments).

BACK TO THE FOOD!

To compliment the seafood stew served over brown rice I made these tasty little fritters!

Brazilian Black-Eyed Pea & Shrimp Fritters

You can find the recipe here.  I wasn't feeling up to a repeat drum session, so I subbed the pepper for 3/4 tsp of cayenne.  This was a little too spicy for my taste, but not too much that I couldn't still enjoy them.  Next time I'll add more flour till the "dough" is REALLY stiff, since mine fell apart in the frying process.

I  also mixed up a side salad with red & green leaf lettuce, arugula, and spinach with matchstick carrots, bell peppers and sweet tomatoes.  Dessert was strawberries and little bowls with broken up pieces of white and dark chocolate: simple, cool, refreshing, buttery and bitter.  I thought it was the perfect end to the meal.

Hubs likes to tell me that small group is not all about food and hanging out with cool people.  And not that I don't really enjoy delving into the Bible, I do.  But good food and good friends are pretty stinkin' awesome too!

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Date night

Yesterday we adventured to the "Fast Track" Prepared Childbirth class.  I'm still processing a lot of the information, and I'm sure I'll talk about all of that later when I've better sorted out my thoughts and opinions, but for the past 24 hours (probably more) I've been consumed thinking about and trying to research things.  It's what I do.  I'm on or I'm obsessive!

For now, however, I am going to focus Friday's lovely "date night."

Although he did not have a gig scheduled, Hubs got a call around 1pm asking him if he could come play a networking event from 3 - 5 that day.  Because we didn't have any official plans that would be disrupted by this, and shoot, bring on the unexpected money, he went off to play.  Things were rocking so much they paid him to play an extra 45min.  woot, woot.

However by the time he was all packed up I was famished.  Since we have a small mountain of gift cards from various occasions (one dating back to 2006 ... don't worry I checked that it doesn't depreciate!) I sorted through them and chose the Chili's/ Macaroni Grill/ Maggiano's/ On the Border to spend: thanks aunt julie!  Hubs came and picked me up and off we went to indulge in ginger root cream soda, marsala cream sauces, and enough bread and olive oil to hold you over for a month!

This is from my sister's b-day dinner, but I don't have one of us from Friday.

Amazing (but heavy) Ginger Root Cream Soda

It was a really great time for us to talk about becoming parents.  We talked about how we were raised, our impressions of our parents, what we hoped to emulate in our parenting.  We are both so very blessed to have parents that are still together and still love each other; to be raised in homes where we always knew that we were loved and felt valued.  It really is such a gift.  We also talked about our fears.  We laughed at ridiculous things our parent's did:

My mom once let me spend the night at a friend's house hours after my dad had "grounded" me.  She exclaimed, "I just don't understand what grounding is!"  In her defense my father never explained his terms of what grounding meant, but even as an 8 year old I knew I shouldn't be allowed to go spend the night somewhere.

Thinking back I don't ever remembering a grounding that stuck: my dad would cast the punishment, and then leave (both parents were shift workers, so more often than not (from my memory), it was usually just one parent home).  My mom would be more than happy for us to keep ourselves entertained with our friends and so the grounding would end.  Oddly enough my sister and I were/are total rule followers and both have a healthy respect (and fear) of authority.  Even though in the home my sister was often defiant and outside the home I often got detention or warnings for talking too much!

Anyway, we ended our date night with Tutti Fruiti frozen yogurt, and headed home to our puppy love, Dancer.

Yesterday was exhausting.  It had emotional ups and downs from, "oh my gosh, I'm so in love with you and I'm so excited about bringing a child into the world with you." to "if you make that smirk or crack a joke like that in Labor & Delivery I'll take your life."  Funny thing, this being pregnant!

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Quote

The most important person on earth is a mother. She cannot claim the honor of having built Notre Dame Cathedral. She need not. She has built something more magnificent than any cathedral-a dwelling for an immortal soul, tiny perfection of her baby's body…The angels have not been blessed with such a grace. They cannot share in God's creative miracle to bring new saints to Heaven. Only a human mother can. Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature; God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation…What on God's good earth is more glorious than this: to be a mother?
-Joseph Cardinal Mindszenty

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Where were you?

I love hearing people's recount of their September 11th, 2001 experience.  I'm not sure what it is that makes it so intriguing.  Maybe it's that we all experienced it, and we all have memories of it.  Here's mine.

I was a freshman at The University of Texas.

It was my sister's 21st birthday.

I went to my 9 o'clock French I class, and got there a little early.  There were about 15 people (at most) in the class, and that day we were just going to be practicing conversing in French, so the class was set up in a circle.  I remember getting there, and there were only a few of us at first.  One girl said, "did you hear that a plane few into the World Trade Center?"  In my head I pictured a solo pilot in his personal jet, who accidentally crashed, or was trying to commit suicide.  I had no idea of the scale.  In my head, it was no big deal, maybe a couple people died, maybe just the pilot.  My instructor and friends didn't seem to think much of it either.  But by the end of class I think enough people filtered in and knew of this accident, that it's seriousness grew, still I had no idea how serious.  After class I remember walking across the main mall of campus back to Jester dormitory, and my anxiousness grew.  I walked into the lobby, and there was a huge group of students gathered around the only tv; this area was always deserted, especially at 10:15 on a Tuesday.  But it don't remember hearing anything, I just remember us all staring at the images of a plane crashing, smoke billowing.

I know shortly after I spoke to Hubs (then boyfriend), and my dad.  I tried to drive to College Station to go to Breakaway (a large student worship service at A&M).  The highways were so jammed.  I still to this day have no idea how I ended up on Mopac from 35 (if you don't know Austin, this makes no sense if trying to get to College Station).  I called my dad in my confusion and he made me head back to campus.  My afternoon class was not canceled, and we received an email from the professor telling us that we would not be excused if we were absent (which she later waived), and since it was a mostly attendance based class I complied.  Someone put together an impromptu candle light vigil in front of the tower that night, which I went to with my roommate.  I was glad to be with such a large community and know we were all processing the same thing.

One year later I returned to the tower with my roommate for a unity gathering and concert. I still have the ribbons I wore from each event.

Looking back to the days following 09/11 I think about the unity and resolve we all felt: there was such selflessness to it.  I just wish we could find that again.

I found the words below from this University site.

Erol Yayboke

Never before have I seen so much love, so much hurt. Never before have I seen a group of strangers come so close. Each holding a candle, each lost in his/her own thoughts, each student feeling the weight of the red, white and blue ribbon they wore. In such a huge school with such a wide variety of students, everyone became American, at least for that one hour on the South Mall this evening. The speakers spoke of unity, of sorrow, and of tragedy; they spoke of a small group of criminals responsible for the massacre, not of a whole race or religion bound to destroy the United States. They spoke of rebuilding the country and of carrying on as a nation. They needn't have spoken, for the unspoken feelings lay in the hearts of every person there; in the gestures, the hugs given to strangers, the tears shed for people far away. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound” of a crowd so far away united in song; united in more than a song, united in purpose; united in more than purpose, united through compassion. The ceremony done, no one moves, no one speaks. Far off to the side of the crowd, a small female voice sings the only thing on her heart, singing also straight to the heart of everyone there resulting in the chorus of people joined in our nation’s anthem which softly echoed throughout campus. “And the home of the brave…” Not a sound was made, not a pin was dropped, we weren’t ready to leave yet. A glow began to rise from the steps in front of the great Tower, normally the symbol of its students, tonight a symbol of the nation. A glow began from the steps, a glow from the candles placed on these steps. Each candle left behind was a piece of the heart of he/she who laid it there. Those who prayed took a knee, those who said they were sorry placed their candle down in a moment of silence. Each one, flickering in the wind on this faultlessly clear night, signifies the people of this nation amidst its tragedy, for as the wax burned low and the wicks fused together, a unit of fire was created, a unit commemorating those who died this day. Slowly the crowd dispersed in silent contemplation, leaving the stairs to burn still, to send a silent message, to hold onto the hope that seems so distant.

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Nesting

Today was just about the first day since the end of April that I've wanted to go in my backyard.  I'm getting my energy back and the weather was wonderful all day.  I pulled up the grass that was growing into my shrub beds: there are no flowers there, so calling them "flower beds" seems wrong; it also seemed wrong pulling up thriving grass when so much of our yard is patchy and dead.  And I couldn't help but feel guilty enjoying the breezy weather, since it is the wind that is wreaking such havoc on the Bastrop Austin and now Magnolia areas, spreading wildfires.  God, we need rain.

This labor day weekend was spent mostly laboring over things at the house.  It's funny how this nesting desire sets in.  Honestly, I don't clean my house unless I know people are coming over, or every room has a mess in it and there is no clean/ sane space for me to escape.  But recently I've been overcome with the desire to get things done!  I remember reading a good friend's blog when she was many months pregnant with a 3 year old in tow, and a stressful job spending a day cleaning out their junk closet.  I thought to my non-pregnant self, "yeah if I were to start cleaning out the closet, I probably wouldn't finish," and "I wish I had the motivation to do that, but I just don't care enough."

Yesterday I organized a very messy music room that the hubs hadn't been able to get into a workable state, probably due in large part to me constantly throwing any music related "junk" in there after being left in various areas of the house.  It still has a long way to go (he needs a storage system), but I did as much as I could by sorting into boxes, and there is a desk top and about 25 square feet of carpet now exposed!  Today I tackled some basic upkeep on the front and back yard, and began sorting the mountain of stuff in the closet of the future nursery.  Two weeks ago I built 4 sets of shelving from ikea for our future office/playroom (former dining room)  The best part, at the end of these projects I haven't created more of a mess (or just tons of piles) than when I started (which is what I normally have)!  What is with me?  Is the baby giving me motivational superpowers?

According to Pregnancy Weekly, nesting is  “an uncontrollable urge to clean one’s house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects, and to organize your world.”

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Over the Edge!

During the first trimester, and into the beginning of the second trimester I made it a point to not read a lot about all things pregnancy or baby.  I read my little weekly update on "thebump," I took my prenatal almost daily, and I've avoided uncooked sushi, alcohol, unpasteurized cheeses, and almost all caffeine.  Hubs was a little amused/ confused by my lack of spastic research and reading.  I basically explained that I just wanted to know what I needed to know and the rest I couldn't really control.  Anyway, I already eat pretty stinkin' well, and I already (almost exclusively) use organic/ all natural/ plant based cosmetics and household cleaners, so I felt like I was already doing what I needed.  Then came finding out the sex ...

Since finding out that we are having a boy I have gone a little crazy in two ways:
1. Baby's Name!  This deserves a whole post, so I'll cover it later.

2. Registering.
I like products that are naturally derived.  I like companies that are good stewards of the earth.  Do I think my child will get cancer if I don't get organic everything? Absolutely not.  My personal challenges are:

- Marketing.
It's hard to see what is really a "green" product, and what is just "green" marketing.  A toy made of recycled material, might not be non-toxic.  "Organic cotton" might mean only a small percentage of the product, and doesn't usually include filling/padding.  "With organic tea tree oil," doesn't mean they took out chemicals.  A company may use waterless urinals, wind energy, and recycle everything at their office, but still use MDF in their product (or the opposite: have really green products but not practices).  It's a sea of confusing mess that can drive you crazy.  And the obnoxious thing is that there are so many certifications that you can get that there is no way to keep track of what certification means what!  Plus certifications generally mean that you will pay more, even if the two items meet the same standards.

- Price.
I feel a little selfish and snobby registering for more expensive products.  Then I feel conflicted because some of the items I will register for will certainly not be organic, which makes me feel like a bit of a hypocrite.  I don't expect people to pay more on a gift, I just expect to get less.  I actually don't expect anything.  Obviously there is no way we can afford to clothe our child in all organic cotton, so I ask myself, "if this wasn't a registry, would this be the best use of MY money."  The thing is, there are things on my registry that I can't afford and don't absolutely need.  It's quite a conundrum for me.

-Green doesn't = more practical or more effective.
Sometimes I'm suckered in by the novelty of interesting design that many green and euro products have.  This pitfall I try to avoid with only adding items that are throughly reviewed by buyers.

At the end of the day I guess I just have to have a little trust, and make the best decision I can with the information that I have.  I think any decision you can make that is healthier for you, your child, and our plant are a positive thing.  It doesn't have to be all or nothing.

If you know any mom's to be looking for cool and responsible companies, I've fallen in love with ...

giggle

wish they had one of these in Houston

&

baby earth

glad this is in Round Rock, TX (near Austin) but still wish it were in Houston

Both of these companies have plenty of items that are not organic or eco-friendly, but since I'm such a fan of their mission statements I have a lot more trust in what they sell.

So far I've done most of my registering online, but the one thing that I can't settle on without seeing is a diaper bag.  Anyone have any recommendations?

Random mile stone this week:

Hubs felt the baby kick on Thursday night!

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