Mad hatters

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

The cauliflower challenge is on

Alrighty, Diane, you asked for it. Just like the grits of last week, cauliflower is sure to take this week's  blogosphere by storm.

Here's my entry: The most delicious, decadent cauliflower and caramelized onion tart you can imagine. Two cheeses, eggs, cream, truffle powder (yes, I just happened to have some on hand, thanks to my sister and her creative gift giving), caramelized onions and roasted cauliflower.

It's on.

Jumping on the gritwagon

After this lady and this lady went all grit-crazy on their blogs, I decided I had to give this grit souffle idea a try. Oh my. I almost lost a finger to Nora, who was doing her damndest to inhale the still-steaming goodness, straight out of the oven. (For the record, Nora survives on milk and air. Food is completely not her thing—and yes, I have firsthand evidence that she's my child.)

Because I was battling two tantruming kids at dinner-making time instead of just the one, I had to cut out a few steps (like separating eggs and stiffening the whites). So really it would be hard to call these souffles, but they were still little pots de deliciousness. Photos were taken, but apparently fancy cameras are only as good as their USB cables, so they'll remain on the camera instead of on the blog. But here's my interpretation on the grit genius going around the ethiopiadoptinterwebs.

Spinachy Cheesy Gritty Souffle-like Structures

Ingredients
1 tablespoon butter, plus more for buttering dishes
1/2 onion, chopped
1 bunch spinach, chopped
1 cup quick-cook grits
4 cups 2% milk, divided
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 eggs
1 cup (or so) grated cheddar cheese, plus some for sprinkling atop the souffles

1.  Preheat oven to 425.
2.  Saute onions in butter until translucent. Add chopped spinach and cook until wilted.
3.  Add grits and 3 1/2 cups milk, and simmer until grits are cooked and the mixture is thick.
4.  Stir in the cheese and remove from heat.
5.  In a separate bowl, beat the eggs with remaining 1/2 cup milk. Whisk some of the spinach/grits/milk mixture into the eggs to equalize the temperatures a bit, and then stir the egg mixture into the spinach/grits/milk mixture.
6.  Spoon the deliciousness into buttered individual-sized souffle dishes if you have them or one big souffle dish (or baking dish), and sprinkle tops with remaining cheese. Bake for 20-ish minutes (longer for one big souffle), or until you have to pry your toddler's white knuckles from the oven handle to prevent her from entering the 425-degree oven and eating the "muffins!" as they bake.

Nora developments

Nora will be 20 months this weekend, and we've had a couple pretty exciting developments in the past week or so:

1. Potty learning. This is not at all something we're pushing, but Nora has started telling us when she has to use the potty, and then she has actually used it. And for its intended purpose, no less. We're nowhere near saying goodbye to diapers—she's only used the toilet successfully about five times this week—but it's so exciting to have the end in our sights.
2. She has started saying "I love you." Melt-my-heart adorable. She can be a feisty little thing (see the video in the previous post), so moments of pure tenderness are just impossible to resist. And so I eat her up.
3. Her height is no longer an encumbrance. She carries a plastic orange chair around the house with her so she can reach absolutely everything that has ever been out of her grasp. As soon as she could stand, she was climbing, so it's sort of a surprise that it's taken her this long to realize that nothing is truly out of her grasp, but now that she has it totally figured out, we're in trouble. I can't even begin to describe the tantrums that happen while I'm cooking dinner and basically fighting her back from the gas stove with a wooden spoon as she's screaming, "Stir! Stir!" Reason 239 to call for takeout.
4. She has started visiting a drop-in daycare in the neighborhood a few hours a week, and she loves it. The second time we went, she recognized it as soon as we pulled up and said, "Friends!"

Get well Pop Pop

We sent this video to my dad after a recent surgery (he's recovering well, thanks for asking), and I thought it was cute enough to share. 

Plus, I haven't taken photos in eons, so this is the only photographic evidence I have that the kids are still alive and well—and as charming as ever.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Whirlwind

Well, it looks like this move thing is actually going to happen. It feels like about three months have passed in the past two weeks.

Our house went under contract a week after we put it on the market. We quickly went out looking for a replacement house and just as quickly struck out. Of the 20+ houses we saw, only a couple looked somewhat appealing, and most of those had significant issues (location, walkability, etc.) that knocked them off the list. There was one that looked great, but it was under contract before we could make an offer. Another looked pretty good, and it was also under contract within 48 hours. On Tuesday we settled on one we had seen previously that hit on many, but not all, of the things we were looking for, and decided to make an offer on it on Wednesday. Our offer was countered on Thursday, after which I had a mini-nervous breakdown and put the brakes on the whole thing. We decided to take another day and another look, and we ended up accepting the counter offer.

It's a lovely house: A bungalow with a nicely finished basement, an updated kitchen, a third bathroom, a dedicated office, etc. It's bigger than our current house, but still modest. It's on a great block, and the neighbors we've met so far seem warm and welcoming. It's walking distance to the kids' school, which is both good and diverse, a depressingly rare combination in these parts (maybe everywhere?). Also in walking distance are fun coffee shops, restaurants, Pilates and yoga studios, a gymnastics place, and a cute little park. We'll be about a mile from our city's largest park, which hosts free jazz concerts every Sunday evening in the summer; a mile and a half from the zoo and the nature/science museum; and a couple miles to a major new-urbanism development, which means access to modern amenities like fancy swimming pools.

Logically I know this is a good find, and I know once we're moved in it will feel like home. I know in my heart that this is the right move for our family. Still, I'm majorly mourning our current home, our neighbors, our neighborhood. I can't even look at a picture of the new house without getting a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I'm sitting in my "office"—the unfinished space behind the fridge—about which I've been complaining for years, looking at all the exposed pipes with an unreasonable fondness. In other words, now that we're leaving, I'm finally loving our funky old house, warts and all.

Greg and I moved into this house shortly after getting married. We (mostly Greg) have poured so much love and energy into improving it and restoring its 99-year-old beauty. We became parents in this house, and our memories of bringing our children home, into our family, will always be rooted here. We said goodbye to our first joint love, Daisy, in front of the fireplace whose installation almost ended our marriage. We planted fruit trees, and we tended them for years, but we'll leave before they bear fruit. I know we'll plant new trees—and new memories—in our new home. It will be an exciting new chapter in our lives, but I can't help but feel an immense sadness about closing this one.

Just to put this melodrama in perspective: We're moving exactly 9.27 miles away. 
 
Does everyone feel this way about their home? Is this normal, or do I need to be medicated?

Three weeks, in three minutes or less

Since I can't seem to manage real-time blogging these days, how 'bout I just recap why I can't seem to manage real-time blogging these days. Here's what's happened chez nous in the past three weeks:

• Nora acquired 5 new teeth (including the front two). This bullet on its own should explain why I haven't been blogging.
• I've started working on a book. Not my great American novel—sorry, you'll have to wait another year—but one I've been hired to write about natural skin care. Just you wait …
• We put our house on the market yesterday and are getting lots of showings. Yikes. 
• We're now officially in familiar territory, parenting-wise. At least according to timelines. Nora turned 19 months this month, which is the age Sidamo was when we adopted him. For some reason that threshold feels like an important one to me—maybe because I've always wondered whether typical toddler behaviors would frustrate me as much with her as they did with Sidamo. Verdict: uhh, yeah. 
• I turned 33 years this month. I'll address the age-related behaviors in another post.

I think that pretty much sums it up. I don't even think I have a single photo of the children to redeem this post, so if you keep reading after this one, I'll know you're really devoted.

Now hiring: Family Decision Maker

Greg and I complement each other in a lot of ways. My geometry skills prevent me from cutting a 90-degree angle; his arithmetic skills prevent him from calculating a tip. Each of us is equipped to compensate. I lose my temper; he has almost boundless patience and diplomacy. I like to cook … you know the rest.

Unfortunately, we both lack in decision-making abilities, which can at times lead to crippling stagnation. Therefore, I turn to you, my electronic friends and advisors, to make our decisions for us.

Thanks in advance. 

Here's the big one right now: We've been thinking about moving. Well, more than thinking about it: We've been looking at houses, obsessing over them, almost committing to them, and then second-guessing.

We love our house, and we love our neighborhood, but for several reasons we're thinking we should uproot and reroot in a different area of our city. To keep it simple, I'm going to outline our thinking in bullet points. (I actually do think in bullet points, so this isn't grossly oversimplified.)

Pros to staying where we are:

• We love our neighbors.
• The local moms' group is beyond amazing. I don't know how I'd find a plumber without them, let alone decide on a preschool. (It's a surprisingly influential list of 1,600+ moms who love to dish.)
  
• Our house is sweet and wonderful, and we've spent the past 5+ years tailoring it to our needs.
  
• We're comfortable. 
• Greg's commute isn't bad. 
• We're 1/2 block from a big park and lake, plus a library.
• We're 3 blocks from great shops, restaurants, and galleries.
• We have lots of friends in walking distance. 
• Have I mentioned how much we love our neighbors? One of them is an awesome massage therapist who practices from her home. Meaning, I can get a massage and stumble home, delirious.
• Moving would mean selling our home, which would mean showing our home, which would mean keeping our home show-ready. And we have two destructive kids (in case you're new here).
• For city living, we have a relatively low crime rate.
• There are lots of adoptive families in the neighborhood.
• We have a killer interest rate right now.
  

 Pros to moving:

• We could get more square footage.
• We could have both a dining room and a playroom.
• I could have an office that isn't just that unused space behind the fridge. Y'all know I work from home, right?
  
• It's possible, depending on where we move, that we could have a bigger yard. In other words: CHICKENS.
• If we did it soon, we could collect on that $6,500 move-up home-buyer credit.
  
• Most importantly, we could move to a more diverse area. Where we live now is about half Latino, 49% whitey, and then Sidamo. Well, not exactly; there are some other African Americans in our 'hood, but they're noteworthy. The neighborhoods we're considering are just about equally split between African Americans, Latinos, and Caucasians.
• If the kids qualify as "highly gifted" (duh), they'd be in a school that's much more appealing than the HG school in our neighborhood. On the flip side, if they don't qualify (stupid tests), the public schools are less desirable. (Another post will come, someday, on my big personal struggle with the gifted-program process, but for now I'm sticking to bullets.)

 So what do you say, blog readers? Should we stay, or should we go?
 

Places 4-year-olds should be banned

Modern design stores. Because if they aren't, they'll decide things like lime green rollerskates would look much better on the floor than on that table, but they won't have the strength to get them down without dropping them (since they're actually doorstops and are made of resin). And then when the rollerskate drops and breaks, the 4-year-old's mom will be forced to pay $100 for it. Seeing as how it's "art" and all.

So that's $100 out of the college fund. Actually, make it $120, because mama needs a bottle of wine.

Helicopter PJs

Sidamo's one and only request for Christmas was helicopter pajamas. I've been wanting to make PJs for a while, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I hunted down some fabric with helicopters on it (thanks, Etsy). Greg freehanded a helicopter out of felt, which I then mounted onto an Old Navy t-shirt (I know my limits).

The result? The happiest, helicopteriest of Christmas Eve dreams.