Back to basics

Yes, yes I had a baby.  You may have guessed that from the last million posts.  But I've been doing other things and learning things too!  Like there is almost always something on TV at any hour of the day that I can watch!  It goes something like this.  Conan is on at 10pm, then at 11pm on Adult Swim, there is Family Guy, American Dad and Robot Chicken in some sort of order. "Frasier" is on the Lifetime network and the WE network between the hours of 1 and 4am, then "I Love Lucy" comes on at 5am.  And these are the thing you learn when you have a very small child and you are up most of the night while they nurse and you try to keep your eyes open by any means necessary.  But after a point, you sleep.  And then things slowly get back to a new normal.  And you actually have time to cook, wash some dishes, fold some laundry and bake, all thanks to amazing things like baby swings:

And things like bouncy chairs:

And then sometimes this happens:

But God bless the swing, the Johnny Jump Up, and the Bouncy Chair.  These life savers let you not only do a few things hands free, but sometimes they also have this amazing effect: on your child:

And you can get some stuff done!  Like baking.

You thought this entire post was going to be pictures of my baby.  And while there is nothing in the world I love more than my daughter and her father, a close second would have to be a good rainy day, with some show tunes blaring that I can sing along with loudly, and getting my bake on.  I made these a few months ago and I'm only now getting around to posting about them, but I made variations on this recipe virtually all summer.  This recipe is super simple and so full of flaky buttery yumminess but with a few alterations, you can make it a really healthy dessert.  Or second breakfast. Or first breakfast.  I have to thank our dear friend and neighbor Lauren, who made us one of these soon after Elinor was born, and I loved it so much I demanded to have the recipe.  And you know, I keep coming back to the fact that yes, she may have done time in the slammer, but Martha Stewart will always hold a special place in my heart.  That and I always envision her played by Ana Gasteyer from SNL, doing her topless Christmas special, wearing a dickey.  If you haven't seen this, you must stop reading and go to Hulu now and watch it.

Aren't you glad you watched that?  You're welcome.  So while I love Chocolate like anyone who breathes air on the planet (excluding those of you who are allergic to it like my dear friend Becky.  I'm so sorry.) the way to my heart is really a good fruit/crumble/crust combo or anything lemon flavored.  I have always preferred pie to cake and pumpkin pie was often my birthday cake as a child.  I was a strange child.  So this recipe is the perfect easy summer (or anytime) recipe to answer the call of butter/fruit/crust cravings.  Both versions are delish, it just depends what you want the outcome to be; buttery flaky decadence or a healthy, lower fat options that you can eat an entire pan of and feel slightly less guilty.  You pick.

Raspberry Cornmeal Crumble Bars ala Martha Stewart (and with my alterations to make a healthier option.) 

What you will need:

3/4 Cup almonds, raw
1/2 Cup yellow cornmeal
2 cups all-purpose flour (for the healthy version, use whole wheat or half whole, half white)
3/4 cups sugar (or the healthy version, I used brown sugar)
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt (whatever.  I just used normal sea salt.)
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted (now this is the big difference.  For a healthy version, one time I used 1/2 cup canola oil and 1/2 cup apple sauce, the second time I used 1/2 cup coconut oil and 1/2 cup apple sauce.  Both worked beautifully and so I'd say use whatever you have on hand.)
10 ounces frozen raspberries (okay, you know me.  I don't measure this junk.  And it can be any fruit, and it doesn't have to be frozen.  Frozen is easy and mindless so once I used frozen mixed berries, another time I used fresh peaches, whatever!  In fact, I bet apples would be lovely with the fall season being upon us and all.  Or maybe even canned pumpkin!  mmmm....)

Method:

Preheat oven to 350.  Line an 8 inch square baking dish with parchment paper, leaving a 1 inch overhang on two sides (this makes clean up so super easy, parchment paper is my new favorite baking thing.  I use it on cookie sheets all the time!)  In a food processor (or in my case, I broke out the vita mix) pulse almonds until finely ground (which should equal about 1 cup, but again, I threw in some extras too.)  In a large bowl, whisk together the ground almonds, cornmeal, flour, sugar and salt.  Add butter and stir until dry ingredients are evenly moistened.

 

Press about two thirds of the dough into dish.

Scatter raspberries (or whatever fruit you are using) over top and crumble remaining dough over raspberries. 

Bake until top is golden brown, 35-40 minutes (when I made the healthy alternative, I baked it a little longer.)  Let cool in dish on a wire rack before cutting into 9 bars.  If you don't let it cool, you may end up making this face.  Or you may make this face if your mom takes way too long between feeding you bites of your favorite meal of avocado because she is trying to do too many things at once.  Whatever. Eat, share, or horde it all for yourself, and enjoy.

EG's story, part two

So it only took me another few months to finish my birth story.  That sounds about right with a 7 month old, right? 

Where was I?  If you are totally lost,  you can get caught up to speed on the prior post.  Birth story part one.  Oh right, contractions began.  At first I didn't even know I was having them, except for the fact that I was hooked up to a monitor.  The nurse (all of whom were amazing) said "see?  You can see it!" For me (everyone has a different experience) they felt like period cramps.  I've been lucky to have never had very bad ones most of my life, and I was like "oh THIS is a contraction?  EASY!"  At this point, I had to stay in bed for an hour while the cytotec took effect, so that lovely picture from the prior post was taken, and Al ran home to feed the cats realizing it was going to be a long night.  My sister arrived, Jen our angel (aka doula) was en route, and so was Becca.  I chatted with Liz, 7 o'clock came and I was able to get up and move around.  Liz said "let's go for a walk" so we started wandering the halls of the Hotel Martha Jefferson, (which was eerily empty.  So many rooms and maybe two were occupied?)  So we walked and I was like "oh!  A perfect time to use the contraction counter app for my phone!"  Becca arrived and the three of us walked with the contractions coming on more and more strongly.  We went back to the room and Jen arrived, and from then on, I have to admit it was a bit of a blur.  Jen had me on the yoga ball some, Al got back and I was full on in labor/contraction mode (8pm by this point.)  Due to the visitor limit in the room (no more than three ) Becca had to go to the waiting room and it was Liz (my sister), Jen and Al.  Jen had me do the most painful thing I had to experience which was stand with my back to a wall, and when a contraction began, bend at the knees and lift up my belly from beneath gently.  Oh lord have mercy.  It was intense!  But it did good things apparently.

Then next few hours were mostly spent with me in the jacuzzi tub (amazing.)  it was such an odd out of body experience.  I was totally aware of what was going on around me (almost more so than normal) but at the same time my attention was very much in tune with what was happening in my body.  I remember really enjoying sinking down in the tub with my ears under water so I couldn't hear everyone talking because it was really distracting.  Poor Jen kept hitting the jets so they went off, that or the tub would turn them off after a certain amount of time, so that was kind of funny because they'd go off, and I'd be like "PUT THEM BACK ON" and there would be some fumbling and they would go back on.  I remember getting out of the tub was really hard because contractions were pretty intense at this point and I think it took a few rounds of them for me to make it out of the tub.  Going to the bathroom became extremely unpleasant because I couldn't do it without having a contraction which was getting pretty painful.  Then I think I moved onto all fours on the bed with my hips in the air and my head resting in my hands on the bed.  Jen would rock my hips forward and back during contractions (which was incredibly helpful.)  I forgot to mention that as we started to get more and more intense with all of this, Jen would have me say "OOOOOOOPEEEEEEEEN" AND OOOOOOUUUUUUUT" which apparently helps open everything up by saying that because you aren't clinching your jaw.

This is where we started to get really ugly, and I puked.  A.  LOT.  I hadn't eaten since lunch (a good thing) and Jen and Al had been giving me fluids throughout this whole thing (apple juice and water) but all that fluid decided it would be better to hang out in a place that was not my stomach.  In a way, it was a relief to puke, because I thought to myself "Oh, this is a familiar sensation.  I know how to do this".  Jen was so sweet, she had been giving me instructions throughout labor and when she handed me a wet washcloth after I threw up and had a contraction, I said "what do I do with this?"  Then when I heard everyone laughing, I realized how funny this was, because I had spent the last few hours following instructions, I thought I was supposed to do something special with it. 'Um, I thought you may want to wipe your face and mouth with it" she said, and we all laughed.  I will also mention that when Dr. Wolanski came in and checked me around 7pm after I had the cytotec, he said to Al and Jen "She's got a lot of work to do so get ready for a long night, and I'll be back around 7-8am to check in."  It's probably for the best that I didn't know he said this.  Also that he ended up being very wrong.

So, all this fun stuff has happened.  I remember at one point thinking that it had been hours and it was only about 9:30pm.  I also remember thinking "I think I understand why someone would get an epidural" but for some reason the idea that I could have one just never occurred to me.  I wanted to do it natural if possible from the start, and I was lucky to be able to do that.  Also for some reason the nurse who had checked me in, had neglected to weigh me (very uncool) so in the middle of all my contractions they asked me to stand on a scale (186lbs!!  WOOT!  Meaning I had gained 51 lbs over the course of my pregnancy.  Hold your applause, I just don't believe in doing anything part way, when I do something I COMMIT TO IT!) So, I'm chanting "OPEN" and "OUT" and I'm sure that most of the poor nurses are hiding in terror (like they've never seen anyone in labor before) and the one nurse who remains checks me and she says "We need to call Wolanski to get in here ASAP".  I take this as a good thing.  He arrives, checks me again and says "you can start pushing if you want" and I said "okay!" and I start pushing.  And pushing.  At one point, they put me on oxygen since babies heart rate starts to go down a bit, and poor Jen was so focused on what was going on, she kept putting the mask on upside down.  I was like "Jen!  Mask!!  FIX IT!" 

Then Wolanski said "Okay, the baby's heart rate is dropping more than I like.  Alice, I want you to go through three contractions without pushing to get the heart rate back up".  Well, let me tell you, pushing felt good so when you can't push?  The opposite of really good.  I bet I made some awesome sounds and faces at this point.  And that is why I did not video tape my labor.  People were like "But Al (my partner and father of the baby) is a videographer!  Aren't you going to film it?"  As Whitney Houston most eloquently said "HELL TO THE NO, BOBBY!  HELL TO THE NO!"  So, no pushing=unpleasant.  Then Wolanski assigned a different family member to each of my limbs (poor Liz had a leg and got snapped at because she wasn't holding it high enough) Al to my right, Jen to my left.  Wolanski said "You need to push really hard now Alice to get this baby out" and push I did.  Long and as hard as I possibly could.  Guess what?  Did  you know you can burst all the blood vessels in your face and upper body from pushing a baby out?  I didn't either.  You're welcome.  And I pushed.  It was 11:27pm.  5 and 1/2 hours since I had been admitted and 3 and 1/2 hours since major contractions started.  Please don't hate me. And then out came a baby.  I said "Al, what is it?" (Yes I knew it was a baby, but you may not remember we had chosen to not find out the sex.  I wouldn't find out again either.  It was the very best not knowing because of this very moment.)  Al : "*pause*  It's a girl."  Alice: *pause*  "REALLY???????????????????????????????????????"

We had both been so convinced that we were having a boy.  Al swore during our ultrasound he had seen boy junk, and everyone told me that they were sure it was a boy because I didn't have any morning sickness and I carried low.  Baby Groucho was going to be Emmet Lloyd Hoover and that was that.  So when Baby Groucho was a girl, the nurses were like "What's her name?" and Al and I were like "umm.......".  Also a few graphic things. (Skip ahead if you don't want to read it.) No, I didn't experience the ring of fire (I'm super lucky I guess) and the whole placenta thing was such an afterthought I didn't even notice it (I had better things to do, like OHMYGODHOLDMYBABY!).  Only very minor tearing, one stitch and done.  Also despite what the children's book says, not "Everybody poops". There you go. TMI time done. Again, you're welcome. The next two hours were us hanging out with nurses coming and going, and a few friends and family members coming in; my dad, Rick my brother in-law, Becca and Calin (Auntie Mom and Uncle Beard), Robert, Paul and Sarah.  I don't really remember what order, or what happened.  Al held E, I used the restroom, and then they wheeled me to our room.  I thought this was funny because I was totally fine to walk, but I was like "oh yes, please wheel me around."  I felt like Mr. Potter, and in retrospect I should have shaken my fist at everyone I passed.  We got to the room, and the nurses took Baby Groucho to give her a bath while I took an AMAZING shower.  It was around 1:30am and it was the strangest thing.  Al and I just stayed up talking the whole thing over, like after you come home from a party and have to talk over who said what, and what everyone was wearing, except we were like "did you notice how we just had a baby??? How about that?" .  We chose to let her nap in the nursery while we grabbed an hour of sleep, but at 2:30am, we both woke up and felt funny, so I paged the nursed to bring her in.  We tried out a few names on her while she nursed and for the next few hours.  Abigail?  Amelia?  Petunia?  (Okay, that last one was never a contender.)  We decided on one that is perfect.

Check out my face in this last one.  You can totally see my red freckles/burst vessels.  They are a little overshadowed by how amazingly happy I was.  We named her Elinor because I loved the name and it was Al's mom's middle name, but he wanted it to not be a direct tribute to her, so we used the traditional Irish spelling (although someone was like "do they know they spelled the name wrong?"  Yeah.  So anyway.)  Grace was another one of my favorite names, and is a tribute to a family friend Justine who had lost her life at a very young age in a horrible event, but had been a big part of our past few years and she lived life with grace.  Hoover men live forever, so it was no question in my mind what the last name would be.  :)

 Because of Martha Jefferson's policy, you get two nights in the hospital from the birth of the baby, but since Elinor was born at 11:21pm, that meant our clock started then and we only got one other night.  I would have stayed longer, but it was not to be.  The nurses (especially one named Erin, LOVED HER) were all amazing, and I seriously can not imagine going through labor without Jen, Wolanski and the rest of the "team".  Jen gave me a task to do each minute, using our months of prenatal yoga moves in action, and I work well if there is something I have to be doing.  I will never do this again without her, if I can help it.  The same with Wolanski.  He was sweet, and wonderful, and pulled no punches when things got serious.  Again, I will never do it without him again if I can help it. 

And now fast forward 7 months.  Elinor is working on teeth three and four.  She is a horrible sleeper and amazing in every other way I could imagine.  I have a whole new respect for people who choose to not become parents, and I mean that.  It's hard.  The kid is always there.  They don't go away.  But if it's something that you want, and are given the luxury of choosing and you get it, being a parent it kind of the best thing ever.  It helps if you have an amazing partner/best friend/husband who is in on it with you, because you can text each other like 12 year old girls when "OMG she just SAT UP!  Our baby is CLEARLY the best, smartest and most amazing child that has ever been conceived by any two people that walked this planet.  Ever."  Because the average person has been there, has already had that, and doesn't care about your firsts.  But when you have someone to go through it with, it makes it that much better. 

So if my silly story is of any help or interest to anyone, great.  It took me 7 months to get it down in writing, which I think is par for the course for parenthood.  Things take longer than they did when you were just you, with no worries or little people to care for.  And if you accept that, it makes life easier.  I am so lucky I had a short and really wonderful labor and delivery where everyone came out healthy at the end.  I am so lucky to have had an amazing support team for the entire process of pregnancy through my hospital stay.  I am SO FRIGGIN lucky to have an amazing family and a few close friends, including my most awesome mom friends who totally get it when, again with the 12 year old girl texting, you can say "OMG baby slept for 4 HOURS without waking up!" They get it. And they will let you go on and on about vomit on your person, poop up the back, trimming tiny baby nails, how hard/easy it can be to lose the baby weight, how amazing/hellish breastfeeding can be, how awesome it is to have a drink/how awful it is to wake up with a hangover when you have a screaming child and you can't sleep it off like you used to.  And how totally the very best it is to have a little person, who's face lights up when you walk in the room.  Because you are their mom.  For me, it just doesn't get any better than that.

How EG came into the world (part one)

I have had a lot of amazing things happen in my life. I’m a really lucky girl. But as cliché as it is, this was the most exciting day of my life (so far.) This is the story of my baby’s birth for the ones of you that wanted to know. If you didn’t, oh well. I’ll try to keep is as PG as possible but there was a baby being born, so crazy junk happens. Just warning you.

I wanted to work right up to having the baby. I don’t like to sit around and twiddle my thumbs, and I didn’t want to waste any of my time off from work and I was feeling good (aside from the fact that my feet had swollen so much, they resembled small boats. I was looking good.) In your final month of pregnancy, you visit your doctor every week and they check you to see how you are progressing. My due date was February 12th, and my doctor had said I would probably be late. So much so in fact, that at my weekly appointment on February 6th, we starting talking about ways to induce. Baby was happy as a clam, and feeling as good inside as I was outside apparently. So Thursday night February 9th I had dinner with two of my friends, came home and went to bed. I had the weekend off and my big plans were to spend Friday night watching “Star Trek” and eating spaghetti with our friends/may as well be family Becca and Calin, and to spend all day Sunday in bed watching old movies. My Sunday was spent in a very different way than I could have imagined, which included no old movies or sleep.

Friday morning, February 12th I went to work at 6:30am feeling a little “weird”. I called my doula who said I was probably fine (only 1 in 10 women’s water breaks before they go into labor, so chances of this were low. Plus you can’t miss it, it’s like a huge gush from what they tell you.) I called the nurse at my doctors office. “Oh honey, it sounds like you may have just peed your pants” she told me. (Okay lady, I have had no bladder control problems up until now, so I don’t think this is what happened, but whatever.) That lovely sensation continued throughout the morning, so I called my doula again. She asked if I had started having contractions, I said “Nope! Feel fine.” So she told me she would check in again around dinner time.

At this point, all of my concentration had gone out the window, work was slow, and so I left early. I got two fish tacos from the Whole Foods food truck for lunch (if you have not tried these, they are AMAZING!), and drove home. Thinking that babe was probably going to be arriving in the near future (but not SO near) I wanted to be on my game, so I cleaned the kitchen and was about to start a load of laundry, when it happened. It was not a gush, like some folks say, but there was a noticeable amount of water that broke. “Huh” I thought, so I called my nurse again. “Well, it still sounds like it may be bladder control issues, but since it’s a Friday let’s out your mind at ease before the weekend and we will get you in at 4:30”. Great, I think! I’ll go in, we will see Dr. Wolanski, and then we will come home for our Italian feast and movie night. So continuing to get my ducks in a row, I take a shower, feed the cats, Al gets home, and we head out to the doctors (stopping to pay an almost overdue parking ticket on our way) while I call my dad, sister and Becca to give them the update. “Just going in for a checkup, baby probably won’t be here ‘till Monday, but I’ll keep you posted”.

While in the waiting room at our doctors office, we ran into my mama friend Naomi and her husband Andy. (They used a midwife who works with our doctor.) She had been due two days prior, and was in for her weekly checkup. I gave her the update, she went in to see her midwife, and we got called in to see Wolanski. He told me that it may be hard to see if my water had broken, but he would check. “Oh yeah. Your water DEFFINITLY broke. When did this happen?” he asked. “Uh….4am….7am….2pm….?” I said. So we were told that we were going to be admitted to the hospital, and they were going to give me cytotec, which would start the thinning if the cervix to begin inducing contractions. Wait, what?!?!? I had big plans of relaxing and sleep for my weekend! I was only dilated 1 cm, but everything else looked good, and luckily we had planned ahead and had the hospital bag in the car for a few weeks. I called my sister, dad and Becca and said “um….looks like instead of pasta, I’ll be having a baby tonight.” Okay, I don’t think that’s what I said. I probably said something more like “OHMYGODIAMHAVINGABABYTONIGHTANDWEAREGOINGINTOTHEHOSPITALRIGHTNOW!” So we went across the street, and checked into the hotel Martha Jefferson for the weekend. I strolled on in with my rolling suitcase, all like “that’s right. I’m about to have a baby! Bring it!”

We got registered, I changed into my fashionable birthing gown (so cute! I totally recommend them, and it's worth it to feel cute when you look like a whale and are potentially going to be in the most pain of your life, let me just say), Wolanski gave me the cytotic and I relaxed for an hour. Here I am, in all my disposable delivery gown ginormous glory. Probably on the phone with dad or Becca. They hooked me up to a monitor so we could track my contractions (which I finally started realizing I was having.) Then the party really got started. (Soon to come, part two where I learn that it is possible to pop all the blood vessels in ones face and what it really means to push.)

A bit about why I haven't written in nine months. And some annoying baby talk.

Nine months is a long time. It also flies by. I don't know how both of these things can be true, but they are. I last posted in October, and I was 5 months pregnant. Since then, Al and I went to NYC on a babymoon, the holidays came and went, I baked a ton, I had only a few minor baking disasters (note to self, don't ever make a recipe from the internet without reading the comments and reviews FIRST), I worked a lot, I had some AMAZING baby showers, and I got another year older. Oh yeah, and I had a baby.


My pregnancy experience was unbelievably awesome, fun, and totally the best. I really lucked out, and I have no clue to what I owe this amazing luck to, but I have a feeling I will be owing some major foot rubs or car detailing to someone to pay it back. I never got sick once. (Yes, hate me now. You can take some joy in the fact that everything I own is now covered in poop, spit up, and baby boogers and that I haven't slept more than three hours at a time in five and a half months. Admit it, you are jealous of my rockstar life style. I feel like I'm Mick Jagger, only the dark circles aren't drug induced my version of a trashed hotel room is what my home has become. But back to babies.) Im doing this in two parts. This part is about the leading up to baby. The next part will be baby and what has come after. Also it's taken me four months to finish this one post so be patient with me, and if you are like "enough with this baby junk" I already have a post in mind for a yummy baking experiment that I did yesterday that was a total success. So come back in two blog posts and you will have avoided all the baby mumbo jumbo. Okay, ready? Lets break it down! *Bad white girl beat boxing sounds go here*

Food: I did experience many food aversions in the first trimester, such as I would normally be happy to eat salad every day for dinner, but all of a sudden, I wanted no part of it. It didn't make me nauseous, I just wanted heavy things that stick to your gut, like baked potatoes with cheese, anything mexican, thai food and anything cooked and warm (which in the summertime for me is unheard of. I normally can't handle anything warm when the average temp is 80 out.) I ate my weight in oatmeal, yogurt, string cheese, and had a ton of luna bars and decaf irish breakfast tea. And since I was depriving myself of my nightly glass of wine or beer, like any good preggo I substituted this with dessert! I had more milkshakes in those 9 months than in my entire 31 years. (Let me remind you that I was vegan for 18 of these years, so this is not as amazing as it sounds, but I probably had 6 milkshakes over my pregnancy which is a lot for me.) I also bought a seltzer water maker (totally worth it) and drank a TON of water

Resources: As with most women who gets pregnant, I immediately dove head first into anything pregnancy related; books blogs, magazines, etc. And then I started to pick and choose the info I could take in. (What to eat when you're expecting? Or lord, don't make me keep a food journal.) The things I enjoyed were two awesome blogs about women who had young kids: Modg Blog ( http://www.modgblog.com/ ) and  The Sassy Curmudgeon (http://volcanicensemble.blogspot.com/ ). I kind of read "what to expect", but I had many moms tell me it was full of horror stories so to only take it with a grain of salt. I really enjoyed "Your Pregnancy Week by Week"and two iphone apps, Baby Bump and the What To Expect pregnancy tracker. I also was given a free subscription to American Baby magazine which (despite the silly title) I loved.

Clothing: Oh god bless maternity pants and the fact that leggings are back in style! I only ever purchased and needed a few maternity tops, but for a majority of the time, I wore my regular tops that happen to be longer. Now, that was NOT the case for pants. I must have only been 7-10 weeks along when I found I could no longer fit in my normal pants. It was as if I had just gotten thicker, which was odd because I hadn't gained much weight (yet....) Something I will recommend is don't spend much money on maternity clothes! Ideally, you won't be wearing them long, and they are not cheap. I bought a few good/cheap shirts at Old Navy, and then hit up Goodwill where maternity jeans were 3 bucks a pair.bNow THAT'S what I'm talking about. I did spend $40 on a maternity coat from Motherhood Maternity because it got good reviews, and since I was due in February, I knew I would need a jacket that covered my giant belly. Luckily, my feet never grew (I have heard horror stories about how women need to buy all new shoes after being pregnant because their feet grew. Again, I won the luck of the draw on this one.)

Baby: So we decided not to find out the sex of our baby, and this is something not only do I not regret, but I would do again. I had friends compare it to peaking early on Christmas morning, and I thought of it in the way that since I would be going through what could possibly be the most painful experience of my life (and no, I'm not talking about the whole not drinking or eating sushi for 9 month thing...) I wanted the pay off at the end to be a surprise. Plus, I'm not a fan of most pink things, and if we knew that it was a girl, everything would be pink. But you cant very well call a baby "hey you" for the first nine months, so what's a family to do? I started calling the baby Pumpkin, but Al quickly vetoed that. After a cozy night together on the couch watching "Duck Soup" on turner classic movies, it hit us: we would call the baby Groucho! And it stuck. So who was little Groucho? We only got one ultrasound (we could have had more, but our doctor had no concerns and insurance only paid for one) so we had one at 24 weeks which is standard. We specifically told them to NOT TELL US THE SEX and they were really good at not hovering over any baby junk or spilling the beans.

Hospital: Most of my friends assumed we would be having a home birth. I was raised by hippies and it seemed like the natural progression, right? Well, not for me. Not when we have an amazing hospital ten minutes from my house. I knew first thing that giving birth at Martha Jefferson was the way I wanted to go. They have a beautiful new birthing center where each room is private, there are large tubs to labor in, and I'd never heard a bad thing about it. I had no clue what doctor I should use so my family doctor referred me to Dr. Wolanski. I'm so happy they did. He is a little elf of a man whom I totally fell in love with and I miss seeing him every month. Seriously. Kind of pathetic.
Enough yammering on about baby stuff! I'll do a follow up about my birth story and my choice to have a Doula, which was the best choice I could have ever made. I'll leave you with this: me at six weeks preggo and me at 38 weeks preggo. I'd like to point out that I was under the foolish assumption that I needed to lose weight when I got pregnant. In retrospect, I would love to go back in time and punch skinny me in my flat stomach. But more on that in the next post.

Paella and cookies and stress, oh my!

It's been a wild and crazy fall, and not really in the good ways.  Lots of unforeseen expenses, money, work and life stress, and oh wait did I mention that I'm almost 6 months pregnant and the HORMONES!  Oh, the hormones.  Let's just say that the highs are high, and the lows pretty much suck.  And it can change on a dime.  Oh insanity, this is how you must feel.

But instead of giving in to those hormones and my very high stress level, I stress bake!  And I cook.  And I watch Project Runway and The X Factor.   And I drink a LOT of water with lemon, juice and seltzer, and the occasional vanilla milk shake (I mean, if she can't drink alcohol, what's a gal to do?)  But writing about myself watching tv isn't really fun for anyone (although I did find out that now Fraiser is streaming on netflix and I couldn't be happier), so let's talk about the stress baking and cooking, shall we?

Last weekend I happened to be off on a Sunday (so rare and lovely), so I made pumpkin pancakes.  I didn't take any pictures of them, and they are but a lovely and distant memory, and I don't have the recipe in front of me, but you should all go google a recipe and make them immediately.  They were the perfect fall breakfast, and I am a sucker for anything pumpkin.  (I admit it, the one time a year I go to Starbucks is in the fall for their pumpkin spice latte.  It's so badly good, I can't help it.  Even in all decaf, thanks to baby Groucho, they are the tops.)  So stop reading this, and go make pumpkin pancakes.  Or grab a pumpkin spiced latte.  Then come back when you are in your pancake or pumpkin coma.

Are we back?  Good.  So last night, I was feeling the stress of the world on my shoulders, and the tragedy of the empty cookie jar was bugging me.  So first things first.  There was a one day deal on shrimp at work (I don't normally like shrimp, but I'm telling you, I have always really enjoyed the shrimp I buy at Whole Foods.  It is yum yum yummy, and they have decent recipes on their site to boot.)  I had recently made the shrimp etouffee that I posted about around this time last year.  So after looking around for some other recipes, I decided it was high time I wrote about making paella on this here blog.

My sister is all about anything Spain.  The food, the cheese and most of all, the cheap spanish wine (love you, sis!)  I keep trying to have her be a special guest columnist here, as she is a SUPERB cook in her own right.  So leave some comments on here voicing your support, or bribe her with a bottle of wine and if we can convince her, I'll turn the reins over for a post or two.  Anyway, she introduced me to my first ever paella.  It's a surprisingly simple dish of rice and veggies, with a more traditional version having chicken or seafood in it as well.  You need a nice big, shallow dish to bake it in (like a paella pan, or a large wide sauce pan worked for me in the past.)  Not being an eater of chicken, I took a friend's tofu paella recipe and with a few tweaks of my own, came up with this gem.  Now remember at how awesome I am at measuring things specifically (note, not at all) but this is close to the method I used.

Shrimp/tofu/some other protein of your liking Paella recipe

2 Tablespoons olive oil
1 large yellow onion-coarsely chopped
1 large sweet red pepper-cored, seeded and coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic-minced or put through a garlic press (my method)
1 standard size can (14 or so ounces) diced tomatoes- (it said to drain them, but I don't like to waste  anything so I just reduced my liquid a bit and threw it in, juice and all.)
1/2 teaspoon each of salt, ground turmeric, dried basil, dried thyme and saffron (again, don't stress over this.  If you are out of one of these, skip or of use something else you enjoy.  Cooking is supposed to be fun, darn it!  There is ENOUGH STRESS in the world!  *breathe*)
3 1/2 cups broth (I used vegetable, and only used three cups since I had the juice of the diced tomatoes)
2 cups white rice
1 head of broccoli- broken into bite sized pieces
Veggie of choice if so inclined- I love my veggies so I used 1 zucchini squash, chopped up into bite sized pieces
Protein of choice- In the past for an all veggie version I used 1 lb of firm tofu, drained and cubed and 1 can (15 oz) of chick peas.  This time I used half a bag of frozen lima beans (LOVE lima beans) and 1 lb of shrimp, peeled and devained with the tail removed because I am lazy and I don't like to stop in the middle of my meal to take apart my food.

Heat your oil in a paella pan, or 3 quart (ish) skillet over medium high heat (or so, you know your stove better than I do) and saute the onion, pepper, garlic and veggie of choice (but not the broccoli, hold off on that one) for about a minute until veggies start to become soft.

 By the way, that is what a paella pan looks like (again, thanks to my sister for the Christmas gift of it.)  A large shallow pan with two handles, one on either side.  Mix tomatoes and spices in and stir every so often for 3-4 minutes.  Stir in stock, beans or peas of some kind (if using) and bring to a boil.  Add rice and bring to a boil again, before adding tofu (again, if using.)

Cover with a lid, or if you are using a paella pan or don't have a lid, use aluminum foil, and cook over medium heat for 25-30 minutes.  At this point, all the liquid should have been absorbed, and add the shrimp (if using) and broccoli.  Cover again and let it sit 5-8 minutes to lightly steam.  This is how my finished product looked:

And it was yummy!  My man added hot sauce to his (hot sauce is his condiment of choice), but I didn't add anything, and it was fine by me.  But what did we do about that sad, empty cookie jar you ask?  Did I stop simply at dinner?  Did I MENTION how stressed I've been?

Soft Oatmeal Cookies (from allrecipes.com with my own adjustments after reading reader's comments)

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup white sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar (I used dark brown sugar because it was what I had)
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda (I have a funny story about this part)
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
3 cups oats (it called for quick cooking, I used regular and they were perfect, so again, the point of this post is NO STRESS!  Use what you have.)
1 cup assorted add ons of choice (raisins, walnuts, chocolate chips, dried fruit, candy, whateves!)

In a medium bowl (or if you are me and OBSESSED with your kitchen aid standing mixer, use that instead) cream together butter and both sugars.  Beat in eggs one at a time, then stir in vanilla.  Combine flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon and stir into creamed mixture (or if you are me, add each one into the mixer bowl one at a time, forgetting to put in the baking soda until the second before you roll out cookie dough.  Oops!  Pregnancy brain strikes again!  At least I remembered BEFORE baking them.)  Lastly, mix in oats.  Then mix in assorted add ons of choice and chill in fridge for at least an hour.  I split the dough into three batches: one with 1/3 cup raisins, one with 1/3 cup chocolate chips, and one 1/4 cup shaved coconut bits and 1/4 cup sweetened dried cranberries.

After the hour is up (I'm cleaning up post paella dinner at this point, in a happy food haze, forgetting the stress level of prior weeks) preheat oven to 375 and take dough from fridge and scoop into "walnut sized balls".  (What do they mean by that?  Are we talking walnuts in the shell?  'Cause that's a bit bigger than a regular walnut.  I did about 2 or so inch balls, and left it at that.)  Place balls on a well greased cookie sheet about 2 or so inches apart (I always use parchment lined trays because I am LAZY with clean up) and bake for 8-10 minutes.  Allow cookies to cool on a baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

As much as I love cookies, I don't think I had ever made oatmeal cookies before!  We tried all three types last night and could not decide which was the best, they were all so good!  I recommend making them all and deciding for yourselves.  It's worth it.  And this recipe fit all the cookies I made PERFECTLY into my cookie jar.  You can't beat that.

So after this upcoming week, hopefully the stress will subside a bit.  The next few weeks will bring our babymoon over Halloween weekend, where my monkey and I are escaping to NYC for a few days, hopefully our only ultrasound, and then the Thanksgiving holidays!  So things are looking up.  But with the remnants of all this stress cooking I can count on two things; having very happy taste buds and not going hungry any time soon.

A Baby Story

Well it was only a matter of time.  You are in an amazing relationship, your job is good with excellent benefits, you are as broke as can be, and you go off of your birth control after a good talk with the person you are in an excellent relationship with.  You enjoy drinking (I mean, who doesn't?), you have run the Charlottesville 10 miler (never thought THAT would ever happen, and I even enjoyed it), you finished the Bikram Yoga 30 day challenge (again, never thought it would happen and I LOVED it).  Your good job has a major relocation 10 plus years in the making, and you are EXHAUSTED.  I mean, I've never had mono, but I'm guessing this is a similar feeling.  No amount of sleep, lack of work, or coke zero will fix it.  Then it dawns on me.

Am I?  Should I take a test?  I mean, the new store is opening in two days, I haven't been puking which is always the first sign in any movie (as we all know), it's just been a long couple of weeks, right?  To be on the safe side, I proceed to eat a huge tuna caesar salad from Bodo's Bagels, and drink some really good scotch while at a friends house for dinner.  I mean, in the event that I AM preggers, better enjoy this last potential day of freedom.

So it's Monday, June 6th.  I work, I get home, and then I think, better now than never.  The time for the at home pregnancy tests that have been hiding under the bathroom sink for over a year (do those things ever expire by the way?) has come.  It was one of those "first response" ones.  FYI, spend the extra couple bucks for the digital ones (see above and below.)  I took one, and it *kind of* looked like there may be two lines? (1 equals not preggo, 2 equals better get it together lady, cause life as you know it is FOREVER CHANGED.  Not to be dramatic or anything.)

I show it to my fella.  He goes (while holding it up to the light) "um...not to disappoint you but...I don't think so."  (Note to anyone ever trying to read a pregnancy test.  You don't read it by holding it up to the light like a view-master.  Little did we know.)  I was like "Um...when I've taken these in the past, it's been much clearer". (And yes readers, I have taken my fair share of these, the most memorable one being in the bathroom of a Starbucks on aster place in NYC on my way down to the Planned Parenthood office...but that's a different story.  And it came back negative so no worries there.)  So I do what any sane girl would do.  Drive to the CVS 5 minutes from my home and pony up the extra $25 and buy a digital test.  I get home, drink some water, and try again.

Well, that's pretty obvious, isn't it?  I proceed to call a few girlfriends and my sister and scream for the next 3 hours.  Aren't you glad you weren't around for that?

That was over three months ago.  Since then, it's like I've been submerged into a world that speaks a totally different language.  I suddenly know what phrases like "tummy time", "lanugo", and "I'M STARVING SO SOMEONE HAND ME A SANDWICH" really mean.  I have gained around 12 pounds (according to my scale, let's not go by the doctor's shall we?  Everyone knows that they are wrong and you are NEVER to weigh a lady with her shoes on.)  It took me a total of 10-12 weeks to not be able to fit in my pants anymore.  Obviously, (or maybe not), I'm not drinking (yeah, that's a major bummer.  I'm not going to lie, if you are like me and there is no greater joy than sharing a glass of wine with friends over dinner or having a PBR shandy on a summer morning, this sucks.  No way around it. But it's fine and you get over it.  And thanks to what my dear friend Miller taught me, everything tastes better out of a wine glass.)   We found an awesome doctor, whom we both really like, and for the first time in my life, I can't wait for my next appointment.  Other changes?

Things like this KILL me with cuteness.  And then I want to cry.  A LOT.  At commercials.  At random acts of kindness or unkindness.  Because I can't fit in my pants.  Because I don't look pregnant enough.  Because that damn cat kept me up.  Because when I have don't have to pee all the time, I'm in a sleep coma.  Oh hormones you saucy minx.  You just keep me on my toes, dontcha?

Aside from the weighing more than I ever have (not easy to take, but again, not much choice in that matter so you just deal and move on) and the hormones, the differences are less blatant.  I eat breakfast and I never used to (again, I have no choice in the matter, thank you ever expanding and loud stomach).  I have super human smell which is mostly totally AWESOME!  (I've never had the best sense of smell so this is really big for me.)  I miss things like soft cheeses, riding roller-coasters, and getting in hot tubs  (all of which were summer opportunities that I had to decline).  But mostly, it's really flipping cool.  At the most, I don't plan on having this experience but one more timer ever again in my life, so I'm kind of loving it.  I was really lucky to have a stupidly easy first trimester and I am very aware that most people do not.  I never threw up, or felt nauseous (but I also was constantly eating so my body didn't have time for that.  Or that's my theory).  I had to stop running after about 6-8 weeks (bless all of you large bosomed ladies out there.  My hat is off to you, cause I could have NONE of it.)  It's like I've switched boobs with Christina Hendricks from Mad Men.  A whole new world, let me just say.  Instead of going out drinking with my friends, my Friday nights are now mostly spent laying on the couch with my feet up, eating dessert and throwing baby names back and forth with my fella.  And I'm okay with it.  It's actually really nice.  And no, we are not going to find out the sex of the baby before it's born.  And yes, that will make it hard for you to buy gender specific clothes for baby Groucho so please just deal.  And yes, hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and every time, is.....amazing.

So this is not what this blog will become completely.   I'm not going to rename it "things my baby Groucho does that are just precious" (mostly because that word makes me want to vomit.)  It's called "Things I like, by me" and my likes continue to mostly focus on family, movies, friends, food and drink.  But all of a sudden, family means something a little different, because it's going to BE a little different.  There is going to be a little person that my best friend and I have made together.  We have and are in the process of creating our own family, bigger than just us and our cats.  And it's not all going to be pretty.  I won't pretend that I didn't have a minor freak out when it actually occurred to me that there is a heart beat.  In my tummy. It's kind of creepy, and I'm not going to lie about it.  But it's exciting!  And it's different!  And fall is right around the corner.  Soups, and pumpkins, and (decaf) english breakfast tea, and walks in the fall colors, and baking are all just moments away.  I have to say I'm just pretty lucky to be where I am right now.  And I have a feeling those maternity pants will come in handy around the holiday eating time.  Just saying.  I may never give those up.

Summer peach muffins for a Sunday Brunch Fest!

Three day holiday weekends don't mean anything to me.  I work customer service.  At a high end grocery store.  Meaning that the only days we are ever closed are Thanksgiving day and Christmas day, or in the off chance that we get 2 feet of snow dumped on us.  If I take three days off in a row, I am not getting paid for them, so often I never take them.  This memorial day in no different.  I am working tomorrow and getting paid time and a half to do so.  I worked yesterday like usual.  But today is a Sunday.  And I happened to be scheduled off!  What to do, on a Sunday morning?

Silly you.  Couldn't you guess?  Sundays invented a thing called BRUNCH!  It's a beautiful meal where you gorge yourself on heavily carb and protein based num nums, and you nurse that nasty hangover with a bloody mary, a mimosa or a PBR shandy (mix half PBR and half ginger ale.  I like mine over ice.)  Working most weekends, and most Sundays, I don't often have the pleasure of taking the time to make brunch for me and my Monkey.  But today, today is different!

So I asked the Monkey what he wanted for breakfast.  We often have smoothies of some kind on my weekdays off, and we had just enjoyed pancakes earlier in the week when we hosted a slumber party extravaganza for my three little step nieces.  We needed something different.  Exciting.  Unusual.  I didn't have any good bread handy for french toast and while I adore waffles, they are much too similar to the recently consumed pancakes.  I did what I do when I need an inspiration.  Help me Betty!

A quick side note.  One of the first things I did when I moved out on my own was drive to Barnes and Nobel and purchase two books.  One of them was "The Joy Of Cooking" and the other was "Betty Crocker's Cookbook."  It seemed to me that any adult who has the slightest interest in not eating out all the time, should own these two books.  I have since added MANY classic to my collection (Moosewood cooks at home, a few classic Martha Stewart collections, etc) but Betty is always there for me.  I love allrecipes (especially the ipad app!), epicourous, the Whole Foods Market website, and many other blogs (smitten kitchen, the sisters fierce, living with purple) but I always refer to Betty for the basics.  Her chocolate chip cookie, zucchini and banana bread, and pancake recipes are my go to, and the pie crust page of the book is wrinkled with water and flour stains from the number of times I have used it.  Let's see what I can find this time.

Betty Crocker's Muffin Recipe
(This is her recipe for blueberry muffins, I used fresh chopped peaches instead.)

Streusel topping:
1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 Tablespoons cold butter or margarine (I used butter)

Muffins:
3/4 cup milk (I always use soy since that is what I always have in the house, with nether myself or the Monkey being milk drinkers.  Soy has always been an even substitute and has never been a problem for me in my cooking)
1/4 cup oil (I always use canola or olive.  Yes friends, olive oil can actually be amazing in sweet baking. Today I used canola.)
1 Egg
2 cups flour (again, here is where I get creative.  I always use Spelt flour while baking.  I am not gluten intolerant, however I do have a sensitivity towards wheat when I eat it often, so I just err on the side of safety and use spelt.  I did one cup whole spelt and one cup white spelt to make it the teeniest bit healthier and because I enjoy a little substance in my food.  The exception to this rule is when making sushi when white rice will always conquer brown in my opinion.  But I digress.)
1/2 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup fruit (Today I used three small peaches, chopped into bit size pieces.)


1) Heat oven to 400.  Line 12 regular-sized muffin cups with paper baking cups (which is what I did, because I am, say it with me now, LAZY) or spray bottoms only of cups with cooking spray.  In medium bowl, stir in 1/4 cup flour, the brown sugar and cinnamon until mixed.  Cut in butter, using pastry blender or fork, until mixture is crumbly; set aside.
2) In large bowl, beat milk, oil and egg with fork or wire whisk until blended.  Add 2 cups of flour, sugar, baking powder and salt all at once; stir just until flour is moistened (god I hate that word).  Batter will be lumpy (another awful word.  Bleh.)  Gently fold in fruit.
3)  Divide batter evenly among muffin cups, and sprinkle each with about 1 tablespoon streusel.
4) Bake 20-25 minutes or until golden brown (I baked mine 25 minutes since I used peaches which are a little more firm than berries.)  If muffins were baked in sprayed pan, leave in pan about 5 minutes, then remove from pan to cooling rack.  If they were baked in paper baking cups (which is what I did), immediately remove from pan to cooling rack and let cool.
5) Consume muffins, either while warm or cool.

Let me just say, YUM.  I don't remember ever making muffins before.  As a kid, my family was big on cookies, pancakes, waffles, pies and banana bread, but muffins were not in the rotation. Well, let's just say that those days are far behind me.  This was delicious and easy, and I foresee the muffin pages of my Betty Crocker cookbook, becoming wrinkled and water logged with my repeat love and attention.  And maybe also due to the fact that I am far more talented at making messes than baking.  But you have to be good at something in this world, right?  

4.