Memory Monday on Tuesday

Today's memory is of the first Valentine's Day I celebrated with my now husband. It's hard to believe it's been thirteen years...we were freshmen in college and newly dating. Our college did not allow on campus freshmen to have vehicles. This roadblock left our dinner pickings slim....the dining hall or pizza delivery. But then we had an epiphany...taxi cabs. We made the call and were romantically whisked away. I remember sitting in the cab holding his hand feeling like such an adult (Ha Ha). The dinner was wonderful and one of our most memorable dates (obviously). Who would guessed what the future held for us. Thank you dear for being a better husband than I deserve most days and treating me like your Valentine all year through. Thirteen years later I still feel like that young girl in the car, dizzy with love and drunk with possibilities.

Memory Monday

Going Bananas

All was set for the monkey party of the century when.....a surprise winter storm hits. On Saturday, my little family single handedly saved my nephew's first birthday party. We braved unplowed D.C. streets to ensure party success. 

Everyone else had followed common sense and cancelled...but we couldn't let C down. We were the party and what typical is a forty minute ride was a white knuckle, jaw clenching hour and thirty minute trek.   It was all worth it in the end when I was greeted by this cutie. 

What is an Auntie for if she can't save the day!  Tragedy was averted and it was monkey business as usual. 

Mama...

Memory Monday

Mama.....My Great Grandmother

Today's memory is actually an homage to my great-grandmother Rosa. She was born in 1895 and lived to be just 5 days short of her 104th birthday. She remained healthy and lucid until the very end. If she had not fallen and broken her hip I have no doubt she would have enjoyed a few more years with us. Rosa was an amazing woman who's whole being seemed to emit kindness. Her face was rarely seen without a smile and the warmth of her arms were legendary. To most she was just known as Mama, she mothered 6 of her own and is survived by countless grandchildren. Mama was 83 when I was born and still full of vigor, she was often left in charge of my sister and I. I have fond memories of snuggling into her lap and holding her small wrinkled hands. I often marvel at the events she witness in the century that was her life. She lived through arguable one of the most revolutionary in history. The scientific discoveries and inventions alone are mind shattering.......automobiles, television, radios, computers, walking on the moon. Then there are the social and cultural changes....women getting the right to vote, the rise and fall of communism, the civil rights movement. I honor each moment I had with her and treasure the stories she left me. Tales of her first date in a horse in buggy, getting electric lights in the house and wringing the chicken's neck for the supper pot. We still have her prized biscuit cutter...which has been sadly retired. Thank you Mama for helping to transform me into the woman I am today I can only hope to be half the woman you were!

Memory Monday

Today's memory is from this evening...it is so often the everyday mundane tasks that seem to be forgotten. My life is most beautiful in these fleeting moments.

Rub-A-Dub-Dub Mom's in the Tub

Tonight was family bath night. O, E and I took a soak together in our giant bathtub. I am often amazed at the joy my children display from the simplest of acts. My house was filled with squeals of delight as O taught E the joy of splashing. My 7 month old could not contain himself and peals of laughter rained down upon us. I wish I could freeze frame that moment the three of us water drenched and overjoyed. Of course O provide plenty of humor for our aquatic escapes:

"Mom did you pee in the tub?" Um....no..."Good cause I just did" Awesome!

"Mom why does E have two penises?" He doesn't he also has testicles..."Oh testicles are cool, when do I get mine?"

You have to love good clean fun;) Ha Ha!

Memory Monday

This weeks memory is not really just one memory, it more of a collection.

A Baker's Dozen

I really enjoy baking, quite frankly it's a passion of mine. Every December my home is filled with the smells of fresh baked goodies and confections. There is always gingerbread, chocolate chip cookies, snicker doodles, Mexican wedding cookies, chocolate truffles, caramels, linzer torte and of course the buche de noel. But Christmas would not be Christmas without mini-cheesecakes and peanut butter balls. Every year for as long as I can remember my mother has made these two delicious treats. All year we wait for these delights.....they just taste like Christmas. I now make these for my own children. This year I'm sharing with you all these secret family recipes. Enjoy!

Mini Cheesecakes makes 48
9 oz room temperature cream cheese
8 oz sour cream
5 room temperature large eggs
1 1/4 cup sugar
3 teasp. vanilla extract
1 pt. fresh blueberries

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Using mini-muffin tins line for 48 cheesecakes. Using a stand mixer with a paddle attachment cream together 1 cup of sugar and all of the cream cheese until light and fluffy. Next add the eggs and vanilla and mix until fully incorporated. Fill each muffin cup with one tablespoon batter. Bake for 15 minutes. While baking combine remaining 1/4 cup sugar and 1 teaspoon vanilla with the sour cream. Remove cheesecakes from oven and let rest 5 minutes. Top each cheesecake with 1 teaspoon sour cream mixture and one blueberry. Place bake in oven and bake for five minutes more. Let cool completely before removing from tins and refrigerate. These may be frozen for storage, or will keep for 1 week in refrigerator.

Peanut Butter Balls makes a lot:)
18 0z natural peanut butter
1 lb. confectioners sugar
1/4 lb room temperature unsalted butter
3 1/2 cups puffed rice cereal (rice crispies)
2 bags ghardelli bittersweet chocolate chips

Combine peanut butter, butter and confectioners sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer and beat on low until fully incorporated. Add the rice cereal and mix on low until combined. Roll mixture into 1 inch balls and place in freezer until fully chilled. Meanwhile place a large mixing bowl over a pan of simmering water and melt chocolate chips. Place frozen balls one at a time into chocolate mixture and roll to coat. Place each coated ball onto a waxed paper lined cookie sheet and refrigerate after all have been dipped. Store in refrigerator for up to one month.

Memory Monday

Today's memory is in honor of the upcoming holiday. May you all eat well with plenty of gravy!

Oh Good Gravy

First off you must know I come from a family of gourmands...we live to eat. Cooking is more than just a hobby it is a passion to us, particularly my father. Every year at Thanksgiving we try and up the ante. New dishes are researched, cookbooks scoured all in search of the next illustrious dish. We make so much food each year that it will not even fit on the dining room table, the buffet must serve as back-up. There can not be just one of anything, two stuffings and at least two types of potatoes are a requirement. One year we decided we would brine the turkey (I highly suggest this). It was difficult to convince my mother and grandmother to let go of the turkey reins but in the end they acquiesced. Due to it's salt content it is recommended that you do not use the pan drippings of a brined turkey to make your gravy. This led my father and I on a mission to unearth the worlds best gravy recipe. We discovered that the key to excellent gravy is good stock. After even more reading and Internet searching it was deduced that the best turkey stock comes from roasted turkey wings. We were now armed with our recipe, it was time to start cooking. We began the night before and lovingly roasted the wings until they were crispy and golden brown. In the morning the wings were added to the stock pot with an array of aromatics to transform into "the stock". We diligently watched the pot skimming off the excessive foam, gauging it's hue, and impatiently waiting for the final product. After four hours of preparation "the stock" was deemed finished. My father and I beamed, this was going to be our crowning moment, we were going to make the best gravy the world had ever tasted. The stock was pulled off the stove onto the counter to await it's transformation. The kitchen became filled with the hustle and bustle of the holiday as the stock patiently rested. The occasion finally arrived and my father and I entered the kitchen to begin the mission. We appeared just in time to see my mother haphazardly pouring the stock down the sink drain. We were to late to save our doomed stock and all are hard work literally went down the drain. My ever industrious mother had already begun cleaning the kitchen and had mistaken the stock for the juices left by the pearled onions. Crestfallen we stared at my mother in shock and disbelief. Our roux would never be, all our hopes were dashed. That year we had no gravy and my mother has been known ever thus as the "gravy killer".

Please don't let this happen to your own stock; guard it with your life this year. You never know what threats are lurking in your own home.

Memory Monday

Having a three year old is a constant exercise in patience, fortunately this job also comes with built in humor relief. Kid's really do say the darnedest things......

Out of the Mouths of Babes

1. Last night I roasted a chicken for dinner. O was helping me while I carved it and we discussed it's anatomy. First she said she wanted to eat the wings, next the legs. Finally she asked me "Mom do chicken's have butts?" "Why, yes" I replied. "Good I'll take the butt, I want to eat chicken butt." Lovely!
2. Last week we were driving in the van and O was sassing her brother. T yells "You are not the queen of me". O looks at him with hate in her eyes and screeches "I know I'm the princess!"
3. I was putting the children to bed last week and gave them a 15 minute warning. When time was up I told O. She proceeded to tell me "I still have 5 minutes left". I replied "No you don't. You can't even count to five" Again O looks at me defiantly and states "Yes I can on my fingers,see" she raises her hand and shouts "1,3,17,8,5...time is not up!"

Some days this job may be thankless but luckily it is not short on laughs...

Memory Monday

Each day I sit down at the computer and try to piece together the perfect words for my posts. Today's memory is about the failure of language, it takes place last February....it seems like a lifetime ago. Six months pregnant I got a call no daughter wants to receive.

When words are not enough.....

It was the Monday after Valentines Day when my phone rang and I heard these words "Now please don't worry. We are sure it's nothing but your dad has been hospitalized for chest pains." My father and his fiance had decided to go on a long weekend trip for the holiday and were hours away from home when this medical emergency struck. I hung up and thought to myself "I'm sure it's nothing...everything will be fine....." Well it wasn't my father had experienced an aortic dissection a very serious and often fatal heart condition. Six hours later my phone rings again the tone is drastically different from the preceding call "Your father has to undergo very risky open heart surgery. He really wants you here, there is a chance he might not come through." Dazed I hung up the phone and frantically packed for the 5 hour trip to the hospital. After a long car trip with two small children and a pregnant woman we finally arrived. It was well after midnight and visiting my father would have to wait until the morning. His surgery was schedule for 6 am and we were allotted a half hour to spend with him. In the morning I arrived at my father's room blurry eyed and scared. This could be my last half hour with my father...one of the greatest men I have ever known. What does one do with such precious time. What do you say to a man who means so much to you? I hold his hand and try and keep the barrage of tears from flowing. I do not want this to be a goodbye...I want to fill the room with hope...with a promise of tomorrow, I want to believe my father will hold my unborn son. The doubts begin to eat away at my optimism and I mull over the potential last words I want to say to my father.... I love you, thank you, I will hold you in my heart forever, your my best friend. I realize there are no words great enough to express what my father means to me...language in incapable of imparting the love I posses for him. I mutter a few meager words "I love you" and "see you soon" trying to force a smile. I hold his warm hand hoping it's not the last time I feel his comforting grasp. The minutes quickly slip by and it is time to let my father go....I can not even reach down and kiss him over my burgeoning stomach. In a moment he is gone, his future unknown...I feel I have failed, I did not say enough.

Luckily and dare I say "miraculously" my father came through, and three months later after three more surgeries my father finally came home. I have now been given a second chance at not only telling but showing my father how much he means to me. So Dad just in case you were wondering "I love you!"

Here is a picture of us 4 months post surgery at O's Fancy Nancy Birthday party.

Memory Monday

I'm starting a new concept today for the blog. Every Monday I will post a memory. It might be a recent one or something dug up from the deep vestiges of my childhood. Today's is a recent memory of O.

Stop Following Me

Last week, as I was surprisingly sitting at the computer, I heard some shouting coming from the foyer. Now, I have three children so shouting is most definetly an hourly occurrence. I decide to sit and wait it out....hoping they would just "work" it out.....O continued to shout. It went something like this:
Ahhh...get away from me...Ahhh...leave me alone...Ahhh...stop following me....go away.
I decided it was time for an intervention. I imagined T was pestering her, as big brothers are wont to do. I slowly crept to the foyer hoping to witness the infraction first hand. As I turned the corner into the sunlit foyer I see O standing alone. I am perplexed....she still hasn't seen me... I decide to stake it out. What I witness next is priceless. The sun shinning into the foyer is creating a shadow. The shouting is O defiantly telling her own shadow to leave her alone...to stop following her....and to get away from her. This provided some much needed humor to my day! Moments like this when your children are exhibiting pure foolishness are what childhood is all about. I wish I could still throw my logic and reason out the door and whole heartily yell at apparitions and sprites. Oh wait, I can I have children......