Brief observations

James is walking around the living room tapping two halves of a plastic stacking toy together in time with the Baroque fanfare coming through the floor. Roy is practicing with a recording. I am glad James is downstairs playing for a chance--he constantly wants me to sit in his room "keeping him company" as he lives life. I'm rarely invited to JOIN. I'm just supposed to sit there.

Owen is sitting in the middle of a pile of toys, gnawing on a rattle, watching James interestedly, and turned on his side hopefully filling his diaper. He just can't be bothered enough to stop the fun to poop. If I had to be subjected to the measures we have to with Owen to aid in the process I think I'd start to make the time...

These little men are growing up so quickly. Their birthdays are in the next two months and soon I will have a 1 year old and a 4 year old. FOUR YEAR OLD! A four year old who can sound out basic words and fold wash clothes in the laundry and run tirelessly like his daddy and is becoming quite a good little singer. Sometimes I feel every one of those four years, but most of the time I'm still the college student who snuggles these velvety little humans and can hardly believe they have been entrusted to my care.

Now that the weather is cooling and the days are a bit more grey it takes me back to this time last year, when we were anxiously awaiting an official closing date on our house. We simultaneously couldn't wait to close, as Owen's due date rapidly approached, and were thankful for each extra day to add to our savings. It was a month absolutely saturated with tension. Should we pack? What CAN you pack? Sitting in the living room now I see how improbably wonderfully it all worked out. This house was for the boys more than us, and they have used it well.

Today's 1%: If you have a husband who insists on the good stuff, like home-roasting coffee, butter over margarine, craft brews, and real maple syrup, do your homework to get the best prices. Found a quart of maple syrup for $10.99 at BJs today. The best price I've seen anywhere else is $4.99 for a CUP at Aldi. Still ridiculously more than Aunt Jemima's, but I gave in once I realized how often I could use it in baking...

Thirty minutes before church

 Opening scene: Mom drags herself out of bed at 7AM with a splitting headache—not her preferred way to begin a workday. Her sons seems relatively amiable, if tired, and husband is exhausted from full weekend of concerts.

8:00AM: Roy leaves for his service. I clear breakfast bowls, leaving James’ half-eaten bowl of shredded wheat and sippy cup of water in case he decides to finish.

8:02: I glance at James, who is still wearing what he had on yesterday. Red solid shirt, khaki pants. That’s fine for church—nobody saw him yesterday who would remember. How sad is it that I’ve compromised my motherhood standards this much already? Don’t overanalyze that. There isn’t time.

8:03: Owen and I head upstairs to get dressed. I pull out an outfit for him that I can clearly picture James in from three years ago. How is my baby so big already? He attempts to crawl off the changing table multiple times despite me securing him snugly with the safety strap.

8:05: Owen is ready to go. I bring him into my room and cast a weary glance at the corner where a few of my dress clothes are laid out. I wore that to church on Thursday. Better not. What about this top and khakis? Ehhh—big Sunday service, probably should go dressier. What dress can I wear that’s not too summery but I can nurse in? … … … This is not going well. Meanwhile, Owen has pulled himself up at the door and is pounding on it, wailing to be freed. Can’t do that since he will promptly attempt to descend the wooden staircase.

8:10: After pawing through my drawers and closet I decide on black slacks, black cami, and filmy tan cardigan-esque cover. It ties funny in front, which is why I’ve never worn it before. But my wardrobe looks boring and wearing something “new” trumps things that fit perfectly.

8:12: I’m dressed and the party moves to the bathroom, where I again shut the door on Owen’s aspirations of liberation. He eagerly crawls to the tub, where he bounces by the faucet, hoping that I will run water for a bath. No such luck today honey bun. We’ve got fifteen minutes before we have to be out the door. Insert wailing and gnashing of teeth. Top teeth anyway.

8:17: My teeth are brushed and I’ve pulled my unwashed hair into some type of serviceable bun. When am I going to actually wash this mop? It’s always the thing to go. I could do it more often if I wanted…the kids make a convenient excuse though. Owen continues to protest his lack of say in all matters.

8:18: I head downstairs to slap a little powder on my face and gather the various and sundry items required for a Sunday morning. Diapers, wipes, wallet, keys, phone, food for Owen since he didn’t want breakfast, nursing cover, jackets…do I need to pack jackets? Do I have any music I need to bring? Am I playing flute at all?

8:22: “James, it’s time to head downstairs so we can leave for church!”

“Why?”

Inward sigh.

“Because we have church this morning Honey. Please come down right now!”

“George doesn’t WANT to go to church. He wants to stay in our compartment.”

Inward sigh.

“James, please come downstairs right now. We need to get your shoes on.”

<long silence>

Slightly less-inward sigh.

“James, do you need a time out?”

“NOOOO!”

“Please listen RIGHT NOW.”

<feet clomping downstairs>

“James, please come over HERE so I can put your shoes on. Here comes the ‘I roll away and make it difficult’ dance. You need to sit down. No, don’t roll over onto your stomach. It’s not that funny. Why does this always happen? SIT. Owen, that’s super dirty. Don’t chew on the toilet. He’s totally going to get E Coli. James, just because I needed to pull Owen out of the bathroom doesn’t mean you get to run away.”

8:28: “All right! All boys are dressed, shod, and ready to go. Let’s head out to the car!”

James, “I’m hungry Mommy!”

I knew it.

“You have cereal on the table from breakfast.”

“But I’m THIRSTY!”

“You have water on the table too. Grab a quick drink on the way out.”

“But I need to EAT! I need a SNACK!”

I’m going to be late. I’m going to be so late. Why do I always tell my boss that it’s ‘no problem’ when he gives the starting rehearsal time? It’s never not a problem.

<Owen is trying to launch himself out of my arms to go eat something else poisonous.>

“I will pack you a banana for the car. Sound OK?”

8:30: Boys are loaded and buckled into car seats. James is happily mashing on a banana and talking to George. Owen is playing with the overhead canopy of his car seat. I run back into the kitchen to rescue my sunglasses. I look around. The kitchen table is a mess, but the living room is surprisingly clean. I take a deep breath and hear only my exhale. It’s quiet, peaceful. Where are my sunglasses? Ah yes, in the basket by the front door. The door is locked. All bags are in the car. Wow…it’s so quiet—I could get so much done right now if I didn’t have to leave. Next time I’m going to START with the boys in the car seats.

8:32AM: We pull out of the driveway. James hands me a slimy banana peel and immediately starts asking for “You Are The Answer.”

Today's 1%: I'm going to fall asleep for an afternoon nap as soon as this is posted. This will pay off in ways from which all benefit.

A few projects

It’s been a great week. Roy’s been home virtually the entire time, the weather was perfect for running, and I had many chances to be in the kitchen. Which meant this:

This apple pie was so good we hid it from James. For four days until it was gone. I should be ashamed, but I'm not because it was that good.

And dreaming even harder about this:

If one of these ever comes my way I SHOULD get the cinnamon colored one that goes with my kitchen.  But HOW FUN is that blue?

Someday.

Just as James saves his quarters for a remote controlled Lightning McQueen, I too can save my quarters for a KitchenAid. I'll just have to make my bed 2,000 more times.

We’ve also been able to pick away at a few home decorating projects. Our budget doesn’t have a lot of room for home décor, so we’ve enjoyed brainstorming and creating some inexpensive, but really meaningful ways to fill our walls.

Like this:

Frames: Hobby Lobby (either half off or used daily 40% off mobile coupon)

Photography: Roy Smith

The photo is the first page of the Beethoven Cello Sonata in F. In 2004 Roy asked me if I would accompany him on a solo trumpet recital. This was his big piece (yes, he played a cello sonata on trumpet—they are desperate for repertoire). It was a mammoth undertaking for me as a pianist, and we spent many hours fusing our parts together. It wasn’t until after the recital was over that we realized we missed being together so often. We started dating shortly thereafter.

Roy went to the Roberts library to dig up the score that we used. You can still see my handwriting from eleven years ago.

The second picture is of the chandelier in Eastman Theater. We’ve gone to countless RPO concerts, and one of our very first dates was enjoying Petruschka smashed heart-flutteringly close together in those tiny seats. The third photo has to be of Shewan Recital Hall, where we performed the Beethoven and dozens of other performances together. The three photos will go above our piano. If we ever do have a little extra money we’d love to install some lighting to help it pop (and help me read my piano music more easily!).

And then our second project, which was accomplished for $13 (thanks again Hobby Lobby!). The boys had a blast painting these canvases yesterday in our driveway. I slapped a little painters tape down before they got started to give it a little contour.

"What do I do Mommy?" The boy needs his boundaries.

Owen didn't want boundaries. He kept trying to crawl out into the street.

He got the hang of it. I eventually put a halt to his fun before the entire canvas was brown.

Owen thought he was the canvas.

They now hang in our hallway and are sweet reminders of our little men. This project looks cool enough I could see repeating it annually to update the artwork.

Owen's finished product.

James' is quite autumnal.

This was all their father's doing.

Today’s 1%: This was actually from yesterday, but it worked so well and I didn’t get home until midnight so no blog. I freed a cheesecake from the bottom of a springform pan by literally flossing underneath the crust. (Don’t worry—it wasn’t mint-flavored.) I made pumpkin cheesecake, btw, with more SPICED CARAMEL to put on top. The cheesecake was the prettiest I’d ever made, but almost too creamy (Is that possible? I guess so because it was.). I just wanted a little more texture from top to bottom. Great taste though.

Checking in

I stared at the screen for a long time trying to get something going for a post. And nothing really came. Which is why the 1% thing is cool. I can always just log in today's one percent improvement. Which you will now see...

Today’s 1%: I made whipped cream in my long-forgotten Magic Bullet. It took TWENTY SECONDS. Seriously, it was faster to make it than it would have been to pull Cool Whip out of the freezer. #nevergoingback

Highlights & Lowlights

Highlights of today:

·         Great praise choir rehearsal and music this morning at Pearce. I felt genuine excitement in the congregation as we sang together. I felt excitement, which doesn’t always happen. It shouldn’t have to I suppose, but it’s nice when it does.

·         A pumpkin chocolate chip muffin for breakfast.

·         James took a nap this afternoon.

·         A Sunday without a concert.

·         I had the luxury of briefly being in a Target without kids.

·         The Steelers won. They killed actually.

·         A birthday party with some of our dearest friends.

·         Early to bed making an Amazon Christmas wish list (all of the pretty kitchen things) and sipping wine while Miles Davis keeps me company.

Lowlights of today:

·         Running out of coffee beans before I got any this morning.

·         Another challenging day from my three year old in regards to cooperation and respect.

·         Bumping into a bunch of people from church in Target, making me (and maybe them) all feel like bad Sabbath keepers.

·         The Bills lost. Not so much of a bummer for me, but Roy’s aura gets all stormcloud-like for at least 24 hours.

·         Owen threw up at the birthday party. That’s low. But the kid had the extra decency to do it all over their patio and then save a little something extra that ended up directly down my shirt. INSIDE my shirt. INSIDE MY SHIRT!

Did I mention that I was sipping wine and online shopping tonight?

Today’s 1%: James and I alternated reading Berenstein Bear books (his request) and stories from The Children’s Book of Virtues (mine). Looking for new ways to aid in his moral education—it can be so challenging to creatively and wisely instill truth in your children!

The day in summary

Last night Roy fixed the waste line pipe. Again. At least temporarily. This saved us a lot of money. At least temporarily. We celebrated with a bonfire and SHOWERS to wash off the smokey smell. You know, when we bought our house the bathroom was my least favorite room. Amazing how you don’t mind a little peeling paint or mildew when all you want is to not smell yourself.

We journeyed to the local library this morning with the boys. Mini-update: I read ALL of the books I checked out two weeks ago, except a Pete Sampras autobiography that I chose not to finish because he, quite honestly, comes across as a sullen spoiled little boy. After 70 pages I decided that I had been right to root for Agassi all along and put it in the return pile. But my completed books included a cookbook written by a popular food blogger, an inside look at the Culinary Institute of America, and a memoir written by a physical therapist from the Walter Reed Medical Center in D.C.

We all found many literary treasures, and we’ll see how I do with my new queue. (Two more Michael Ruhlman books, a Timothy Keller book on prayer, Jill Kelly’s memoir on her son, and another blogger book about interior decorating, a subject I am woefully uneducated on.

As we headed out to the car Roy, feeling flush with cash (ba-dump (a pun within a pun!)-SHA), suggested that maybe we could get lunch out together. We haven’t had a family meal out in months. The cheapskate in me initially balked, but then I looked at the four of us together, enjoying ourselves, and told him it sounded like a good idea. (Also, no cooking…)

Roy suggested the Burger Bar at the Pittsford Wegmans. We had eaten there once before, after an RPO kids concert Roy played before Owen was born. It was yummy, but I didn’t remember much about it. WELL. We were hungry and it struck a perfect chord of quick service, inviting clean atmosphere, friendly staff, reasonable prices, and stunning food. Seriously. This is what I had…

Veggie Grain Burger

Topped with portabella mushrooms, zucchini, peppadew pepper relish (going to find some of that immediately somehow), lemon garlic aioli, toasted whole wheat roll.

Baby Kale & Arugula Salad (Came as a side to my burger)

Baby kale, arugula, walnuts, goat cheese, dried cranberries, honey wheat grain, golden raisin vinaigrette.

Salted Caramel Spiked Shake (Split with Roy—next time I don’t wanna share)

Vanilla ice cream, Da Vinci Caramel Sauce, bourbon, topped with whipped cream, a candied pecan and a sprinkle of black salt.

It was all great tasting--fresh, and bursting with flavor. The best meal I’ve had since Date Night In, and the best meal I’ve had OUT in much longer. 5 star recommendation there.

James seemed to enjoy the outing the most of any of us. He’s been, ahem, exploring the limits of his world a good bit this week. (I am convinced this is because we had a lengthy conversation with my sister in law last Sunday about child discipline and we were saying how easy we’ve had it with James. Just keep your yapper shut Julie. Seriously.) Anyway, I get the feeling our sweet boy hasn’t really cared much for Mommy and Daddy lately and how much they keep shutting down all his fun. But after the library and lunch he seemed to perk up a good bit and interacted with a lot more enthusiasm the rest of the day.

So anyway, it was a good day. Now I’m off to start a new library book. No offense blog, but I’m a little more excited about that than this entry.

Today’s 1%: I took the latest batch of granola out 33% earlier and set the oven for a lower temp. Perfect texture. Not too chewy, and not charcoal. 

Snapshots

My sweet James picked out a bouquet of roses for his best friend, Alexa, on the occasion of her fourth birthday. Here they are sharing a birthday doughnut together at Tim Hortons. They've been inseparable for over three years now...before either of them could walk.

Do not. I repeat, do NOT, take your eyes off this kid for a second. If you turn away to chuck the old diaper this is what you find. Silly nakie Owen.

Today's 1%: I refrained for over half the month of September from making pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, which for me are the epitome of autumn. I was overtaken today and they are every bit as wonderful as I remembered. I will never admit that fall might be my favorite season, even though my actions say otherwise. In word, it's summer.  Alllllllllways summer. Summer summer summer... <she said weakly>

Lessons from Sally

Things I’ve learned from Sally’s Baking Addiction:

·         Measure your ingredients when you’re baking. And by measure, I mean weigh. Roy bought me a little kitchen scale for my birthday and I think we both were secretly thinking, “I hope this actually gets used occasionally.” I use it constantly, and my baking successes have become much more consistent. I’m OK with doing the spoon and flatten technique with flour and sugar, but powdered sugar—that scale has paid for itself just with that. #icingthatrottedmyteeth

·         Sally loves sugar. Even if you weigh the sugar, her recipes tend on the sweet side. Or, perhaps it just needs a pinch more salt?

·         My oven must bake hotter than hers does. Sally posts a lot of homemade granola recipes, which we’ve been lapping up recently. But every batch I’ve had to pull out early—like 15 minutes early. And it’s still on the dark-brown/extra crispy side. Note to self: try turning down the oven 25 degrees next time. (Today’s batch: apple spice quinoa granola. Can’t wait for breakfast tomorrow.)

·         The difference between Dutch and regular process cocoa.

·         That one can bake tons of stuff with a hand mixer, but one can still dream about the mighty KitchenAid...

·         The scientific difference between baking soda and baking powder.

·         How to make consistently fluffy pancakes.

·         That Biscoff oatmeal cookies are among the food of the gods.

Today’s 1%: Still haven’t cried about Bathroom/Kitchen fiasco 2.0. (Still haven’t showered either…) Also, let Owen get up from his afternoon nap that wasn’t happening and brought him into our bedroom. He sat on our bed and looked at us with the happiest face known to man and then started rolling around and hugging us. With James that would have spelled disaster by 5PM but Owen can go for twice the length of time without showing any visible signs of crankiness. And he lapped up every ounce of attention. Here’s to adapting to individual children’s needs/strengths.

Being Owen

Being Owen: 10 month edition

Standing by himself. Let's celebrate by smiling.

I'm almost as tall as you now Mom. Let's celebrate by smiling.

I gave Abby hand, foot, and mouth disease. Let's celebrate by smiling.

Fishing with the big bro.

I don't like to nap, but when I do I make sure it's because I stared at the ceiling fan too long.

In the spices. The chocolate chips, specifically.

A quick selfie with Mom.

We have no fear. Even when we get stuck we just keep smiling.

Into the trash.

Into the kitchen magnets and drawings.

Helping Mommy tighten up the chairs. Stillll smiling.

Neeeeeeeeeding to play with the big kids.

Today's 1%: I didn't cry when water started pouring through the kitchen ceiling tonight. At least I haven't cried yet.

I. Am. That Mother.

Everybody is sick. We’ve been to so many people’s houses in the past two weeks only to get texts or emails a few days later informing us that their child had come down with some kind of bug, and were we all OK? The ickiest part is that everybody seems to be getting some variation of hand, foot, and mouth disease, which manifests itself as a stubborn fever for a few days before breaking into a beautiful rash of blisters around the hands, feet, and mouth. Definitely NOT something I want to deal with if at all possible. So we’ve had no playdates and kept mostly to ourselves. On Friday though we did welcome my sweet little niece, Abby, for a few hours. Her mama told me that she was having a rough teething day, but they still wanted to hang out. We enjoyed a few hours together, although Abby really WAS having a tough time. She fussed off and on and got upset when usually-beloved Owen came too close.

Kylie texted me yesterday and said that Abby had broken out in blisters around her mouth and arms. And I started to really worry. She had JUST been over. Hand, foot, and mouth is highly contagious, and my boys were not going to escape it forever. I quickly decided that they should not visit the church nursery this morning, and Roy and I reluctantly decided to forego our football kickoff party with Oliver and Kylie. This was the biggest bummer of them all. Ky and I had planned the food and the weather was supposed to be cool and rainy. In short, it was going to be perfect for huddling under blankets in sweatpants, watching football while consuming vast quantities of soup and muffins.

I embarked on a frantic search to find somebody who could stay with the boys while Roy and I fulfilled our church duties. Martha, always Martha, was willing, although she warned me, “I’ve had a fever for a few days. I’m feeling a lot better today.” I asked if she happened to have any blisters and she responded, surprised, “Well, actually, I do have a couple on my hand. Why?”

I didn’t really have much of a choice. Weighing my options, it was better for my surely-infected boys to stay at home with Martha than risking spreading it to the entire west side of Rochester. I wasn’t going to be that mother.

I packed the boys up to pick Martha up from college and watched the rain fall fast on my windshield. James is having a renaissance with an old favorite song, “You Are the Answer” (or, as he calls it, “You Are the Question”...how philosophical). It was on loop over the back speakers and they were bouncing and singing away in their car seats. I absentmindedly thought about the church weekend services, which book I would read before bed, what to make for lunch since we weren’t going to get any of Kylie’s Oktoberfest stew, and inwardly sighed over all the illness plaguing our favorite people.

Everybody’s been so sick! We’ve been lucky to escape it so far. Owen just had that fever a couple of weeks ago. Little man finally got those front two teeth! Teething fevers are the worst. He’s such a trooper. He even had that sore on one of his sucking fingers and got along with a smile. It’s too bad he sucks those fingers so hard. I remember when my brother used to get blisters on his favorite finger from constantly sucking it.

I can’t believe how fast he’s growing up. He crawls everywhere now so quickly…I can’t keep up with him! That carpet really rubs his feet up. He’s toughening up now that those two blisters on his toes are turning into callouses.

Wait.

Fever…finger…toes…

OH. NO.

I got to church and texted Kylie. I believe the gist of the content was something along the lines of:

“WE DID THIS TO EVERYONE!!!!!!!”

And Kylie wrote back, “Oh yeah! That does seem to make sense. Didn’t you mention that he had had a fever blister on his lip?”

“DAH! NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!”

So, in short, if you or your children have had hand, foot, and mouth disease in the past week or so, it’s my fault. While my bathroom was out of commission, my ceiling dripping, and my sanity compromised from lack of personal hygiene, my son had HF&M and generously passed it on to everybody whose bathtub we borrowed. (Or engagement party attended.)

He was totally in the church nursery last Sunday too.

<holds head in shame>

If there can be a silver lining from all of this, we decided to just go ahead anyway and get all of us infected folk together. The kickoff party went on as planned. The food was good, the weather cold and wet, and blankets abundant.

To Joe and Lachlan, Silas, Kylie and Abby, Hayden and Liam, Martha, and probably Dad Smith, we apologize. Please don’t blame Owen. He’s very cute you know, and he can’t be held accountable for his germs, or the fact that he’s so darn sociable everybody wants to hold him.

Today’s 1%: Well, fortunately, I finally realized that my kid was spreading pestilence across western New York. Unfortunately, probably too late to undo most of the damage. I did take some extra time after the service today to connect with some newer faces and hopefully do some personal investing in my church. Needing to get outside my own needs and space more often and hear other people’s stories.

Two scenes

Scene A:

A mother opens her front closet and reaches into the dark corner. She tugs and extracts the heavy, cumbersome vacuum from its hiding place. As she turns, lifting it onto the living room carpet, her 10 month old son James crawls into the room. He smiles at his mother, then eyes the vacuum. Immediately the smiling eyes fill with terror and he scoots out of the living room as fast as he can, heading for the closest adult or piece of furniture to climb. Or perhaps a different closet in which to hide. His terrified cries resound as the mother pulls the vacuum quickly, yet deliberately across the carpet.

It almost got me that time!

Scene B:

A mother opens her front closet and reaches into the dark corner. She tugs and extracts the heavy, cumbersome vacuum from its hiding place. As she turns, lifting it onto the living room carpet, her 10 month old son Owen crawls into the room. He smiles at his mother, then eyes the vacuum. Immediately the smiling eyes fill with glee and he scoots across the room as fast as he can, heading for the vacuum. His cries of joy resound as he attempts to climb up the vacuum. The mother pulls the vacuum quickly, yet deliberately across the carpet, avoiding Owen as he follows in hot pursuit. On the off chance she pushes it near him he stops and claps in celebration.

I almost got it that time!

Today’s 1%: Sometimes when I deem something needs to be bought I go buy it. Immediately. And oftentimes that thing doesn’t NEED to be bought. Or it hasn’t reached need status yet, anyway. James’ sneakers were in a sorry state. But I waited. Accumulated $10 off coupon, 30% off purchase, and shoes 50% off in one shot today. $35 pair of nice sneakers. Practically free. Thumbs up.

Family portraits 2015

We enjoyed another evening with Kristin McCain in Pennsylvania for family photos.

Not particularly centered or proportional, but we look happy. James looks really happy.

Owen always looks happy. What a treasure to capture his sweet baby face!

This guy is looking so much older!

Work it James. Model man.

Easy to get a smile when Daddy has swung you up onto his shoulder.

When Owen isn't smiling, you can pretty much be sure those two fingers are in his mouth. 

We waited for you for so long little man. You bring us such rich joy.

I can't even.

I think this really reflects the boys' personalities. James is introverted and protective. Owen is always looking at people and flashing a cheesy grin.

CHEEEEEEEZE!

Thirty doesn't look so bad when you hire a professional.

I'm pretty sure James was running back and forth in front of the camera right about now.

I love this man.

At the end of the shoot. Looking a bit disheveled and ready for Half Pint Creamery!

Today's 1%: It wasn't a particularly stellar day for me. I didn't exercise and I ate more than I needed to. But, to celebrate Roy NOT having to go to school today, we made lemon ricotta pancakes for breakfast. Cheesecake Factory recipe (told you it wasn't the best eating day). Daiiiii-ang. They were incredible. I had enjoyed them for a special anniversary brunch a month ago and found the recipe online. They must have not held anything back because ours tasted exactly the same. Here's to hopefully a year where we can be home a little more, together, as a family. That would be a whole lot more than 1% in my book.

Date Night In #1: A Sort Of Fairy Tale

It’s finally Friday night! I have been waiting for Friday night all week. It’s time for several days’ worth of prep, and a few weeks’ worth of excitement, to come to fruition. It’s time for DATE NIGHT IN.

The date nights in Ashley’s book are divided into the four seasons, which is pretty brilliant. Ingredients are easier to get certain times of year, and, well, “Over the Fire” would be a lot harder to achieve in February than in July. Teetering between summer and fall, we looked at both options before quickly deciding that summer deserves to be savored. So, our first Date Night In was “A Sort of Fairy Tale.” The menu included:

• ·         Hemingway Punch
• ·         Thyme and Parmesan Roasted Sweet Potatoes
• ·         Caribbean-Style BBQ Chicken Legs
• ·         Mango Miso Slaw
• ·         Caramelized Pineapple Sundaes with Candied Coconut (can I get an Amen??)

I texted with my mom earlier in the day and let her know all that I’d done already:

• ·         Bought a Yaris’ load of ingredients I’d never used before, like rum, cherry liqueur, jalapeno peppers, chicken legs (yes, I’ve never cooked chicken legs before—don’t judge), miso paste (???), vanilla beans ($3 for one long, muddy, shrively bean…check Amazon next time Julie), coriander, and rice wine vinegar. Clearly, Date Night In is brought to you by Wegmans.
• ·         Make brown sugar syrup
• ·         Make BBQ sauce (see last entry for coriander grinding tales)
• ·         Season chicken legs
• ·         Make slaw dressing
• ·         Make candied coconut
• ·         Make spiced caramel (all of this date night was worth it to make that spiced caramel)
• ·         Make slaw (save dressing to toss right before serving)
• ·         Prep sweet potatoes

Once we got the boys to bed I descended downstairs to start the final preparations. Roy was in charge of the cocktail (first cocktail we’ve ever made) while I popped the sweet potatoes into the oven and fired up the stove top to sear chicken legs. I was a little nervous knowing the potatoes and chicken roasted at different times and temperatures, but I figured we could guesstimate.

Owen started screaming. It wasn’t an “I’m sick” or “I’m hungry” cry. It was just plain old “I’m bored and I can tell you’re doing fun things without me” cry. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that noise from James, but we have since been thoroughly educated. I told Owen in my head that he’d have to figure it out. It’s Date Night In, for pete’s sake. Fifteen minutes later…

• ·         The chicken was seared. Nicely, even though I wasn’t sure about how to flip the legs quickly in a piping hot skillet. (Christmas gifts: splatter screen, metal tongs)
• ·         Roy was wrestling with a grapefruit and crushing ice with a hammer.
• ·         The potatoes were ready to flip. Orrrrrr not.



Well, drats.

• ·         Owen was still screaming. Even louder.

I took the potatoes out, sighed, and told myself that the night would improve. Do not give up! I stuck the chicken in (at the right temperature now that we didn’t have to worry about potatoes) and gave in to Owen. After a sweet rock and snuggle he got drowsy enough that he only howled for a minute after I re-deposited him and headed downstairs. Roy met me with a beautifully rimmed cocktail that tasted, well, incredible. It was sweet and sour and a little punchy without tasting like straight up hard liquor. Yummmmmmmy.

Grapefruit sugar and lime around the rim.

My parents' old kitchen table makes for a surprisingly artsy backdrop here.

We sipped our drinks and set the table together, happy to be connecting after an insanely challenging week. I kept a close eye on the chicken and tossed the slaw. We waited until we could wait no longer for the chicken legs to settle post-broil, then attacked our plates with great expectations.

What was left of the potatoes was good, and improved upon with extra barbecue sauce.

 

We had leftover sauce, which will most certainly be used. Hi Owen's high chair.

The slaw, which I was the most nervous about, was super unique and really good. I was worried it would taste too strongly of one ingredient—onion perhaps, or cilantro, or jalapeno. But everything melded beautifully, even without an overnight bath in the sauce. It was bright and salty and crunchy and sweet all at once. And look how colorful and pretty!

Miso, by the way, is basically soybean paste.

We were excited about chicken. We don’t eat a lot of meat, and it’s even rarer that we actually serve meat by itself. Usually we throw a little into something else for protein/bulk. So this was a treat. And It. Was. So. Good. It was perfectly cooked (yay!), crispy on the outside, and the sauce was incredible. I guess the coriander was worth the grinding after all. ;)

You want some, don't you?

We kept ourselves to 2 apiece. We ate the rest the next day as soon as allowed.

We ate, enjoyed, sipped, savored, and knew that we still had dessert. With the SPICED CARAMEL. I heated up a little of the caramel with butter, sautéed fresh pineapple to coat and soften, then served over the best vanilla ice cream I could find. Plus extra sauce and toasted sweet coconut. Warm. Cold. Melty. Smooth. A tiny crunch. Flavor explosion. I really can’t express to you how good it was. I’m making more caramel sauce tomorrow for…I don’t know—my morning coffee. Anything.

 

The picture, unfortunately, is a little blurry and doesn't do it much justice. 

Date Night In #1 was, with the exception of the stupid potatoes, a complete success. We had a mountain of dishes to wash, but we threw them in the sink and worried about them later. I would make any of those dishes over again in a heartbeat, and the technique for the chicken legs will be duplicated with lots of different sauces in the future. We are already excited for October!

And more spiced caramel. Tomorrow.

I leave you with a quote from the introduction to this date from Ashley's book. Roy said, after reading the cookbook, that she is me. (Or I am her?) And this quote was perfect for us in this moment, when dripping ceilings, and on-the-job injuries, and sick little boys, and worries about money had the temporary upper hand.

“I want to tell them that, just before I said ‘I do’ to their dad, I thought, 'Ashley, is he the one?’ but then responded to myself, ‘How the hell do I know? What I do know is that I'd be completely stupid if I didn't choose to spend the rest of my life with him.’ I want to tell my kids that now he's my one but we had to work damn hard to get here. We've both battled our dragons, climbed the towering walls, and fought like hell for each other. But this story, our sweet, utterly imperfect fairy tale, is the sort of story worth telling and the one worth fighting for.

Today's 1%: I polished off the rest of the spiced caramel.