Calming the Snack Monster

We pile into the house after school and the first activity on the agenda is the begging of snacks.  I believe children everywhere are up to the same business at approximately 3:30 PM.  They’ve signed a childhood contract of snack time compliance, and it’s up to us parents to follow their plan accordingly. 

Of course, there are probably some hidden clauses in the contract which harbor statements like ‘will only accept crackerish bits in cheery shapes, including but not limited to: fishies, bunnies, teddies, etc.’   And at this, my mom-head explodes with elementary litigation.  I lobby for fruit.  I compromise for protein.  I settle for mildly healthful with a side of frivolity.  Because is it too much to ask that a snack be both kid-friendly as well as healthy?  Something filling enough to maybe keep them from raiding the cupboards all afternoon?  Options that won’t repeatedly bust our processed and sugary intake right through the roof?  Sadly, crackerish bits fulfill none of my hopes.

Part of my job description entails preparing three meals and a few snacks for five people each day.  Therefore, I need easy snacks.  Quick snacks.   And those usually don’t come healthily in family-sized boxes from the grocery store. 

It’s not that my kids won’t eat the healthy things as much as it is that at the appointed hour, snacks must be in-hand with all due haste, or their patience wears thin.  The hungry little bosses need something as easily managed as a box of cheesy fish crackers, and if I’m being honest, I do too. 

In order to keep the kiddos’ after-school bellies satisfied as well as bypass the contractual clause for animal shaped crackers, here’s what I do to make snack time easier.

Plan ahead.  I’m not ashamed: I make menus.  Breakfasts, lunches, and dinners are mostly planned in advance to spare us from time-consuming lapses in creativity, and snack time can benefit from the same treatment.  Use generalizations if you like, by keeping the weekly rotation mostly static: Monday is popcorn and apples, Tuesday is tortilla wrap-ups, Wednesday is yogurt and berries, Thursday is veggies and dip, Friday is chocolate chip cookies.  (I mean, come on; kids need these not at all, but life should be enjoyable, right?)

Make ahead.  To take care of the immediacy of snack demands, make sure your fridge is prepared for the onslaught.  Keep the fruit in-reach of little hands, and pre-chop your veggies at the beginning of the week.  Make a large batch of your favorite snack recipe, and store portions in the freezer to be grabbed quickly. 

Set time limits.  If you’re like us, your kids think snack time should last from school’s end to dinner’s beginning.  Stop the constant graze by plunking a snack down with a preset time limit.  “Okay Timmy, eat up because at four o’clock, we’re going outside to play.”

Be silly.  Fill a muffin tin with bite-sized options.  Cut sandwiches with small cookie-cutters.  Use seasonal holidays for snack idea inspiration.  Introducing variety can scare some kids off, but by making the snacks appealing in an unexpectedly fun way, they become less intimidating.

If we approach snacks with the same consideration as regular mealtimes, they suddenly seem more manageable and important. 

And knowing that our children’s after school appetites are usually whetted with wholesome snacks leaves us some freedom to pull out the crackerish bits every once in a while.  Because our contractual obligations cannot be overlooked entirely without some backlash from the little ones. 

I've got some healthy snack recipes on the way in the next column!  But in the meantime, what are YOUR family's favorite snacks?

[Originally Published at The Joplin Globe]

The Pink Slime Plague

Millions of American parents send their kids to school every day with high hopes.  They trust the school system to take care of their children’s minds, filling them with a relevant education, but that’s not all.  Many parents also place their trust in the school’s dietary program to serve nutritious meals. 

But last week, a large number of American parents had their hopes – and some of their trust in the school lunch program – dashed.  If you haven’t heard about it in the news, there’s a new substance making its way into our children’s lunches, and it bears the wholly disgusting moniker of ‘Pink Slime’. 

Pared down to its most nasty parts, ‘Pink Slime’ is just that: parts.  It is the leftover scraps swept up from the butchering floor, cleaned with an ammonia-hydroxide wash, and mushed into a sludge that can be mixed into real ground beef as a filler.  The beef industry calls it ‘Lean Beef Trimmings’, but I call it inedible.  I can’t imagine that I would knowingly feed my children connective tissue and floor-picked scraps instead of fresh, real meat. 

In fact, ‘Pink Slime’ has been banned for human consumption in the United Kingdom, and is usually sold to dog food companies, so lacking it is in real nutritive benefits.

But the USDA – who stands by the sludge’s safety if not its nutritive qualities – has plans to purchase 7 million pounds of ‘Pink Slime’ to distribute for use in school lunches across the country.  And, frustratingly, much ground beef in the grocery store contains this nasty substance without being listed on any labels to warn us.  Besides purchasing your own cuts of meat from local farmers and butchers and watching them grind it for you, there’s not much we can do to avoid ‘Pink Slime’ in our ground beef.

But we can avoid it in our children’s school lunches.  If you are as grossed-out as I am about ‘Pink Slime’ being fed to our kids – in any quantity – the only immediate solution is to pack lunches at home.  It means we have to take an extra ten minutes in the morning to throw some healthy food into a bag, but it also means we know what our kids are being exposed to: real food versus cutting-floor offal that no human should actually consume.

There’s no need to steer clear of school lunches as a whole.  I believe some of what our schools serve provides a healthy supplement to meals children receive at home.  But take a look at the cafeteria’s monthly menu.  Hang it up where you’ll notice the days advertising anything beefy, and get ready to pack a lunch instead.  I have no idea if our local schools are currently serving lunches containing ‘Pink Slime’, but I’m really not willing to take the chance. 

If, like me, you sometimes struggle to come up with variety for the lunch box, think of it this way: almost anything you pack will be more beneficial than ‘Pink Slime.’  Pour last night’s leftover soup into a thermos.  Pack chunks of cheese with grapes and crackers.  Spread some chicken salad onto whole wheat bread.  Cut up an apple and pair it with a scoop of peanut butter.  Wrap deli meat and cheese into a tortilla. 

The possibilities for homemade lunch are endless and diverse, though they do take a bit of planning.  And I’ll plan until my brain goes numb if it means my children will avoid accidentally eating ‘Pink Slime.’

[Originally published at The Joplin Globe.]

It's National Peanut Butter Day!

And you know what that means, right? 

We celebrate!  Because here at Heavenly House, peanut butter is a food group unto itself.  Nay -- scratch that -- peanut butter is THE MOST IMPORTANT food group. 

We snack on peanut butter spoons (something that should be marketed by street vendors and deli counters -- they'd be rich) and nibble on peanut butter sandwiches and lick peanut butter fingers.  Which are closely related to peanut butter spoons but with more drool.  We serve it with apples, carrots, celery, bananas, toast, waffles, pancakes...in short, I feed my kids peanut butter whenever they darn-well please, for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.  They love the stuff. 

And I love it, too.  It's packed with tummy-filling protein and fiber, plus the fat in natural peanut butter is of the truly healthy kind. 

So to pay homage to this blessed, gooey substance, Lauren and I made a special recipe today that we'd love to share with you! 

I was first introduced to these cookies when my dear friend Katie brought a batch over after Landon was born.  They kept me nourished for days before I could stay awake long enough to eat anything more complicated.  These are filling enough to stand in for a quick breakfast as you're heading out the door or make for one seriously stout afternoon snack.  They're hearty and healthy and delicious; I hope you like them as much as I do!


Peanut Oat Breakfast Cookies
Makes approx. 9 cookies

1-2 overripe bananas, mashed (about 1 cup)
1/2 C chunky peanut butter
1/2 C honey
1 tsp vanilla
1 C rolled oats
1/2 C whole wheat flour
1/4 C dry milk powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1 C raisins (optional)

Thoroughly combine all ingredients in a large bowl.  Drop by 1/4 cupfuls, 2 inches apart, onto a parchment-lined baking sheet.  Slightly flatten each cookie (they won't spread much).  Bake at 350 for 12 to 14 minutes or until golden. 

Let me know what you think if you try the recipe!  And tell me: what's the most strangely satisfying way YOUR family eats peanut butter?

Please Send Help

I'm a total garden lover.

The way they get the kids involved and excited about playing in dirt; the way they fill the yard with a stretch of actual, purposeful use; the way they require patience before yielding their stores; the way they make us stick by their sides, even under the hottest summer sun.

I have a vision of my grandma in her plastic garden sandals and straw sunhat, poking around in her well-groomed rows, beaming at the poles of green beans and rubbing her hands gleefully over heavily drooping tomato plants.  There is mud under her fingernails, and she stops to admire the orange and yellow marigolds lining the perimeter of her haven.  On her kitchen counter, there are stacks of produce: beans, squash, melons, zucchini, tomatoes, cabbage...it's gorgeous.

Maybe this is the truth of why I love gardens.  Because I remember how awesome they can make you feel after a spring and summer of hard work. 

Nevertheless, I must have missed the bus on gardening, because for the past two years, it hasn't been working out so well.  I should have stuck to my original plan to have only a flower-garden this year.

My tomato plants are dead, my strawberries are ravaged, and my watermelon never sprouted.

Well actually, the tomato plants aren't dead so much as now abandoned.  After weeks of watching dozens of roma and grape tomatoes bloom and ripen, they were all eaten one night by a greedy forest creature.  This creature (I won't point fingers, but I think her name starts with D and ends with eer.) happened to miss the bottom row of one of the grape tomato plants, and I've been carefully watering that plant so we could harvest a measly 8 tiny 'maters. 

Yesterday, they were a golden-yellowish orange.

Today, they are gone.

I lamented the woeful state of our veggies to a friend, and told her that I thought next year, I'd just plant a few tomatoes in pots on the front porch.  Surely those would be safe.

But today, upon checking the strawberries on our porch, I found them to be munched down to their stems.  No place, apparently, is safe from the quiet march of hungry animals when you live on the edge of the forest. 

I SHAKE MY FIST AT YOU, ANIMALS.

How do you sneak into my fenced yard?  How do you see in between all the weeds of my raised bed to find the single, luscious patch of juicy goodness?  Why do you take what isn't yours?  And, perhaps most important of all, WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO MAKE YOU STOP?!

I'm very disgruntled, if you can't tell. 

I wanted a juicy, warm tomato, and I wanted it now.

Simple Summer Schemes: Smoothie Pops

For me, summer means searching for and acquiring frozen things with which to keep myself cool.  Any frozen thing will do, really, but with kids, the more fun that frozen thing happens to be, the better.  Popsicles are good, but homemade popsicles?  FUN!  Especially when the kids in question are allowed to be involved with the whole process.

Usually, there's not much 'process' involved with popsicles, but these smoothie pops take a few more steps which help keep the children busy and interested.  Here's the blow-by-blow:

1.  Whip up a quick smoothie.  My favorite yogurt-based version is here, but this summer, I've been loving an even simpler variety.  The recipe is super easy:

2.  Have the kids toss one ripe banana into a blender with one cup (or more, to taste) of frozen fruit.  We love strawberries, blueberries, and peaches especially; the bags in the freezer section of the grocery store are both cheap and packed with picked-fresh goodness.  Add a splash of milk or juice (more or less depending on how pourable you need the mixture to be) and blend the daylights out of it all, until it's smooth and delicious.  (Not that I know, but be sure to keep the lid handy in case the little ones get button-happy before you're prepared.  Ahem.)

3.  Find a fun pouring device for the smoothies.  I used these little cake-decorator contraptions, so the girls could fill the popsicle molds themselves, but a number of things would be just as fun.  Measuring cups, funnels, spoons, whatever.

4.  Let 'em loose with the smoothies and molds!  I mean, let 'em loose in a closely supervised way, depending on the age of your pourers.  Smoothies have a tendency to seep across a table with alarming speed.

5.  If you don't have molds, paper cups with popsicle sticks propped in them would work beautifully. 

6.  The thicker you make the smoothie -- by adding milk or yogurt in particular -- the creamier your popsicle will be.  Use juice or just fruit alone to make it more crystalline and crunchy.

7.  Don't be afraid to let the littlest helpers have fun, too.  If they spill, they're very likely to lick up the drips before you can even reach the towels.

8.  Place the popsicles in the freezer for several hours.  (Lessons in patience, anyone?)  I think ours were in for about 7 hours, and they were perfect!  Which is good, because then came the truly fun part...

9.  The consuming of popsicles on a hot afternoon.  Homemade popsicles that kept us busy and entertained as well as cool and refreshed.

10.  Now it's your turn -- get to blending and pouring!  And let me know how this simple summer activity worked for you!

What are some of your favorite popsicle recipes?  Have you ever let the kids come up with their own combinations?  What would you add to make these either SUPER decadent or MONDO fun?

Dandy Baby!

Do you know the fabulous Dawn at Spontaneous Clapping?  You should; she's...fabulous.  But that's not the point right now.  The point right now is that she's begun a new blog called Dandy Baby, and it's all dedicated to homemade, fresh, healthy BABY FOOD.  And I'm not joking when I say that I almost crawled into the screen to hug her in (inappropriate) thanks. 

(While licking her cyber-spoons.)  (What an odd statement...)

Honestly, I cringe when I think of feeding our new baby boy any store-bought baby food in the future.  Because I cringed when I fed it to Mia and Lauren.  Because it looked and smelled so...not good.  I can't say that it tasted bad, because I was always too squeamish to actually try it.  How terrible is that?  To feed my children something I'd rather not eat? 

Anyway, with both girls, we rushed past the pureed phase of life and dove straight into soft-cooked chunks of whatever Justin and I were eating.  It worked out well in that they became accustomed to normal foods, and learned finger foods with reckless abandon.  But I still think pureed food is wonderful for introducing new flavors as well as being super convenient when prepared ahead of time. 

Therefore, I promise to make fresh purees (at least some of the time) for Heavenly Baby Boy, starting with Dandy Baby's simple, lovely recipes.  How can I not, when they look so gorgeous?  So EDIBLE?  I know edible doesn't sound like high praise, but compared to what I usually think when I look at a jar or tub of store-bought baby food...it's major.

I hope when little Peanut is old enough for non-purees, Dawn will regale us with soft, mashable, (hair accessorizing) finger foods, too.  Then, maybe, kid-friendly, healthy options for toddlers and bigger kids.  Because I'm in love with her baby food blog.  She takes beautiful photos and makes everything look perfectly, possibly simple while offering tons of inspiration for what to make next. 

You should definitely check it out.  And make some puree.  Even if it's just for yourself.

Because how delicious does Minted Summer Peach sound?  And Blueberry Pear Oatmeal?

WILDLY delicious, that's how.

Now.  Thank you for your kind attention to my radical excitement. You may return to your non-crazy-super-fan-type reading. 

Fancy That

You can lead a toddler...

To a fancy dinner....

But you can't make her eat.

Hope your Valentine's Day was as happy as ours!  (And maybe even -- if you were very lucky -- free of meltdowns!)

The Case for Sauceless Spaghetti

Spaghetti night is always a good time....

 until somebody gets a noodle wrapped around her arm.

But it's also good for practicing your twirling...

and perfecting your inhaling. 

Noble endeavors for a humble (necessarily sauceless) meal.

Making Whoopie Pie

I love when Justin offers his help in the kitchen. 

I was putting together these Peppermint Whoopie Pies recently... (which, honestly, looked better than they tasted -- they needed less vanilla in the filling, more sugar in the cake, and perhaps...a completely different recipe.)

when Justin decided to become involved.  He approached the (still hot) cakes with such hopefulness...such innocence...

...such disaster.

Such wonderfully hilarious disaster. 

This is reason number 839 for which I love him: Ruined Whoopie Pie.

Simple, Quick Meals: 7 Of Them

To continue answering Siouxz's question, and in addition to Tuesday's and Wednesday's recipes, here are 7 more quick, favorite meals from Heavenly House!  Beware the startling amounts of cheese to follow...


1.  Pizza -  It has to be said: we make pizza two to three times a month.  Fast, easy, delicious.  Here's how I do it:

Crust: 
1 1/4 cups very warm water
2 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. active dry yeast
1 tsp. salt
1/4 cup oil
3 cups flour

In a large bowl, dissolve sugar in water.  Add yeast, and let the mixture sit for about 10 minutes, until it billows up to a creamy froth.  Add salt, oil, and flour (wheat or white, or a combo of the two).  Mix well.  Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface and knead for 3 minutes, until dough is smooth and elastic.  Cover loosely, and let rise in a lightly oiled bowl in a warm spot for 30 minutes.  Punch down dough, divide in half.  Form each half into a rough circle if placing on a heated pizza stone, or press into a lightly oiled 9x13 baking sheet with raised edges.  (I have a brownie pan that works perfectly for this.)  Top with cheese, meat, and veggies of your choice, and bake at 450 for 10 to 20 minutes.  (Um, sorry about that huge time gap.  I don't know how long I bake ours; I just keep an eye on it, and when the cheese is starting to go all golden and delicious, it's done.)

P.S.  Our favorite topping combination looks like this, and in this order: jarred pasta sauce, sliced provolone, shredded mozzarella, diced red peppers, and chopped canadian bacon.  Mmmmm.... 



2.  Chicken Noodle Soup is also a regular on our rotation, especially in the winter.  It's only time-consuming if you start with a whole chicken, but if you have some shredded chicken and broth on standby, it really comes together quickly.  Here's my recipe.



3.  Turkey Patties Parmesan - This meal is a dumbed-down version of the classic Chicken Parmesan, but since I rarely feel up to that whole breading/frying/baking fiasco, I like dumbed-down.  And as a bonus, we all love this meal!  Yummy, easy, perfect

1 lb. ground turkey
1 cup shredded parmesan
1/4 cup italian dressing
Prepared pasta sauce

Combine turkey, half of parmesan cheese, and dressing.  Form mixture into patties and place on lightly oiled broiling pan.  Broil for about 5 minutes (or less) on each side.  Sprinkle the other half of parmesan on top of patties during the last minute of cooking time, browning it slightly.  When fully cooked, top with pasta sauce and serve over a plate of steaming al dente pasta.  Enjoy!



4.  Pasta alla Vodka - Oh, man.  Love.  Love, love.  Thank you Pioneer Woman, for this heavenly meal.  Ugh.  LOVE.


5.  Chimichangas - Or, something like it.  I improvised one night when I had some leftover pot roast, and voila: a favorite was born.  Be warned -- there is no recipe here.  Only a few ingredients without amounts. 

Meat of your choice (I've used shredded pork, shredded beef, ground turkey; the options are endless.)
chopped green chiles
chopped tomato
cumin
garlic powder
chili powder
1 can of drained beans (I've used pinto, kidney, black...all good)
shredded monterey jack cheese
burrito-sized tortillas

Cook meat together with chiles, tomatoes, beans, and spices to taste.  On the center of each tortilla, sprinkle a generous pile of shredded cheese, and top with a spoonful of the meat mixture.  Fold top and bottom, and both side 'flaps' over the fillings to form a square tortilla pouch.  Place (folded flaps down) onto a sprayed baking sheet, and lightly spray each chimichanga with cooking spray.  Bake at 350 for 10 to 20 minutes.  (Again, sorry about the iffy time limits -- just eyeball it!  When they're puffed and golden, they're done.) 



6.  White Bean Chicken Chili from Mel's Kitchen Cafe.  I've made this several times now, using cumin and monterey jack cheese instead of oregano and mozzarella, because I'm weird and don't think mozzarella belongs in something called 'chili'.  But it's tasty either way.  SUCH a good, fast soup.



7.  Minestrone - This is probably the most time-consuming recipe on my 'quick' list, but it's so easy and delicious that I would have felt bad for leaving it out.  The hardest part is chopping up some veggies, which is no big deal, right?  Paired with a fresh, hot loaf of bread, and...oh...it's perfect in any season.

1/2 onion, chopped
3 carrots, thinly sliced
2 stalks celery, sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 can diced tomatoes
1 cup tomato juice
italian herbs (I use basil, parsley, and maybe oregano -- but I'm not a big oregano fan)
2 cups chicken broth
3 - 4 cups water (depending on how thick or soupy you like it)
1 - 2 cups frozen green beans, snapped into tiny bits
1 1/2 cups small pasta (we like ditalini or small shells)
1 can (drained) great northern beans
1 cup shredded parmesan

Heat olive oil in a large pan, sauteing onions, carrots, celery, and garlic.  Add herbs of your choice, broth, and water.  Bring to a boil, then simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes.  Add frozen green beans and pasta, simmering until both are tender.  Add drained beans, and remove from heat.  Gently stir in 1/2 to 3/4 cups parmesan, and use the rest to top individual bowls of soup.  Try to keep your chin clean as you speed-scoop this deliciousness into your impatient mouth.  You're welcome!



Is this post over yet?  It is!  Now, go; cook something quick and delicious!  And stop by Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes!

Simple, Quick Meal: Chicken & Black Bean Salsa

This recipe is not my own -- but it's completely beyond me where I found it.  Somewhere online, I believe.  (Because where else do I spend my spare time but on the internet?)  Anyway, it's one of my favorites for it's incredibly simple preparation and deliciousness. 

The salsa acts as a quick, flavorful marinade to the chicken, and the thinner you slice it, the more it soaks up the salsa-goodness. (And can I just admit that black beans topped with creamy Monterey Jack cheese is perhaps the most delicious combination since peanut butter began flirting with chocolate?)  This meal usually goes over without any complaints at my house, unless you count Mia's demands that hers be served minus all of the ingredients except chicken.  So see?  It's clearly a hit!


Chicken & Black Bean Salsa

1 lb chicken breasts
1 jar salsa
2 cans black beans
Shredded Monterey Jack cheese

Slice chicken into thin strips.  Pour one and a half to two cups of salsa, depending on how saucy you want the finished product to be, into a 9x13 baking dish.  Layer chicken strips over salsa, and bake in a 350 degree oven for about 25 minutes -- more for thicker-cut chicken, less for thinner -- or until chicken is cooked through.  Drain both cans of beans, and layer them over cooked chicken and salsa.  Place the baking dish back in the oven for about 5 minutes, to warm beans; some will begin to split -- that's perfect.  Finally, sprinkle shredded cheese over the beans, and replace the dish in the oven again for a few minutes until the cheese barely begins to melt. 

We serve this over piles of steaming brown rice, or rolled up in soft tortillas.  Mmmmm.....hope you like it!

Simple, Quick Meal: Parmesan Tilapia

Do you like fish?  In general, I don't.  Most fish is too fishy for my delicate tastes, and I don't get too far with seafood. 

But in an effort to provide at least one fish-based meal for my family, I experimented with the most mild, innocuous type of fish I could find -- Tilapia.  After a few tries, this is what I came up with: Parmesan Tilapia.  It's savory enough to mask most of the (already mild) fish flavor, and simple enough to be a quick, weeknight favorite.  Both of my daughters love it; Justin more than loves it -- he BEGS for it; Even I -- the self-professed fish-hater -- like it. 

It's a keeper!


Parmesan Tilapia

6 Tilapia fillets
2 - 3 Tbsp butter
garlic salt
1/2 cup shredded parmesan cheese

Rinse Tilapia fillets; pat dry.  Evenly arrange fillets on a (lightly oiled or sprayed) broiling rack.  Dot each fillet with approximately 1/2 Tbsp butter, and sprinkle each with a dash of garlic salt.  Broil until fish is white and flaky, about 8 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fillets.  (I never time it, but just keep a close eye on the oven.  Broiling gets the job done quickly.)  When fillets are just this side of done, cover each with a generous sprinkle of shredded parmesan.  One or two tablespoons per fillet should be plenty.  Pop the fish back under the broiler for a minute or two, until the parmesan is a golden brown, melty crust.  Serve immediately. 

I usually add baked sweet potatoes, some sort of rice, and steamed vegetables to round out the dish.  I hope you like it!

The Donut Shop of My Dreams

I don't think I'm admitting any big secret when I say that I love donuts. My friends know this; my family knows this; you probably know this.

So it should surprise none of us that I nearly teared up with joy and pride when Mia suggested we go out for donuts last Saturday morning. Her voice was that of an angel proclaiming the meaning of life when she asked, and who says no to an angel? Not This Heavenly Mama, that's for sure.

It's fascinating to me that though I struggle to leave the house before 9AM on any given day -- we're rushed and disheveled and frantic in our chronic lateness -- we can successfully navigate all areas of morning preparations and joyfully be out the door by 8:23 on donut day. Donuts are a mighty incentive for quick-moving children. (And...ahem...mothers.) We piled into the car, a family of sugar-lovers (and the unreasonably strong-willed, sugar-denying father) bent on finding the perfect donut shop.

Just up the road from us, there are several to choose from. Supposedly, all donuts from these shops are within the same parameters of deliciousness, so we had to make our choice based on something different: ambiance.

Well, I needed ambiance. The rest of the inhabitants of the car were only interested in the color of their sprinkles, so it was left to me to demand the perfect atmosphere in which to consume fried dough.

We approached the first, closest shop and Justin slowed the car. "No!" I ordered, panicked. "I don't like this place. It seems so...sterile inside. All white and spare and...boring." Justin drove on peacefully. He must not have been in any sort of heckling mood (darn it...) so he ignored my 'sterile' comment. If he'd been in top form, he'd have pointed out that cleanliness, sterility, in restaurants is usually to be admired, not scorned. He also would've questioned my sanity in passing by a perfectly acceptable donut shop -- I've never turned down donuts before, and this seemed startlingly close to a refusal.

When we passed the second donut shop without comment, I think he started growing suspicious. "Uh, how far do you want to go for donuts, babe?" He wasn't worried -- after all, he wasn't interested in donuts and it was a nice, cool morning for a drive through town -- but he knows the patience of our two back-seat-whiners can be somewhat short. As I shrugged my shoulders (I was enjoying the drive, too -- not yet blinded by the need for donuts), he continued. "There's a new place over by the university that people say is pretty good. But it's all the way across town..."

University...young and hip?...new...stylish?...people say...reputation?...all the way...

I agreed. I'd never seen this donut shop, but it had to be better than the boring, old shops by our house. Justin knows me well enough that the fact I was searching for a pretty donut shop seemed perfectly commonplace.  On we drove, through Saturday morning traffic, searching for the best donut venue in town.

And you guys, we found it.  This place...this donut shop...was heavenly.  Beautifully furnished with comfy couches and simple armchairs at the front, sturdy dining tables further back.  Exposed beams lent it an air of careless comfort.  Its walls were in rich taupe and mossy green, accentuated with black-framed art and accessories, deep brown ceramic tile.  The place was gorgeous. 

Oh, and the glass-domed counters full of donuts were bright and sparkling under the smiling faces of the employees.  The donut shop of my dreams.

But get this: they also sold cupcakes.  Sadly, I only ordered donuts (which were perfectly made -- crisp outer edges, sink-y bite, not too sweet, just right), but those cupcakes...oh.  If it hadn't been 8:30 in the morning, I'd have had a cupcake.  And okay.  If I'd been alone (no matter the time), I'd have had two. 

Would it surprise anyone to know that I decided to live there?  Yes, I decided to never leave.  Nothing could compel me to go.

My companions chose otherwise.  Especially my male companion -- he of "I'll just have a cappuccino, please" willpower.  I walked away under extreme duress, whispering to the building's brick facade, "I'll come back to you...I'll come back." 

And next time, I'm bringing my toothbrush and some pajamas. 

True story.

All The Different Characters Of The Rainbow

I don't want to compare my kids, but I do want to notice them.  So the following is not about judgement on who's easy or who's difficult or who's creative or who's quiet or....you get the point...and more of an embracing of the wonderful spectrum of different colors my daughters shine on the world.

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We were at a restaurant for dinner.  With just the four of us, trips out to eat can be fairly straight forward -- one on one supervision, you know? -- and this trip was especially easy.  We colored the activity sheet menus, talked about our neighboring tables full of interesting people, and waited rather patiently.  Our food came just as the girls' patience was waning, and our meal began peacefully. 

Mia and Lauren were both hungry, both ready, both capable of feeding themselves, but that's about all I can say for their similarities.

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MIA: She sits straight and careful, watching us all eat.  She delicately picks up a piece of chicken, examining all four sides of the 1cm-square bite, and brings it to her mouth.  She chews.  Slowly.  Until laughter at another table catches her attention and she stops chewing altogether.  She stares and thinks, quietly, until the laughter dies down; she begins chewing again.  A full minute has passed since she first tasted the chicken. Another full minute passes before her mouth is empty again. She gazes at her plate like it can tell her the secret password for solving a multitude of the world's problems.  She pinches her thumb and forefinger together to pick out one specific strand of spaghetti, raising it in front of her and inspecting it for any signs of wayward sauce (which has been brought separately due to her aversion).  With her free hand, she finds her fork and, so intently, begins to wrap the single length of pasta around the fork's metal fingers.  This takes some time.  Much time.  The pasta slips and loops and falls away before she can lodge it onto the fork, wrapped securely like a tiny nest.  With both hands now, she draws the fork to her lips, finally taking the bite she's been preparing for minutes upon minutes.  Her meal continues at this pace, never quickening, never fully attending the bites she should be chewing, until she's satisfied.

Lauren: She leans as far over her plate as her wooden high-chair will allow.  Her fork is gripped in one hand and she is furiously scooping at her pasta.  Dragging her utensil through the food, she opens her mouth as wide as it will go to accept the overflowing bite.  She is fast.  Pieces of spaghetti cling to the edge of her plate, hoping to be pushed onto the table where they may hide from her terroristic methods.  But they have no hope: she finds them, grabs them with her whole fist, and buries them in her mouth as her fork continues its warpath.  Chicken is speared and rejected; she only wants pasta.  Broccoli is chewed and tolerated; she wants to get back to the pasta.  Soon, her hunger begins to wane, and she can pay more attention to the details.  She picks up a long piece of pasta, holds it high over her head, leans back, and dips the end of it into her mouth; she is a fish and the spaghetti is a lure.  Then, she has an idea, from God knows where.  "Uh-oh! My phone's ringin'!"  She lays the pasta beside her ear, directs it over her cheek and towards her lips, where she begins speaking into it.  "Hi!" she nearly yells.  "How you doin'?  I'm doin' good!  Bye!"  She revels in the attention of our laughter, repeating her pasta-phone call several more times.  We are glad we've not ordered sauce.

Mia: She laughs at her sister and shakes her head with us adults.  Her plate is a nearly pristine replica of what was brought to her at the start of the meal.  Piles of chicken, broccoli, and pasta are still neatly categorized.  She's been eating though, and has had enough.  She picks up her after-dinner chocolate (the traditional Olive Garden fare: Andes mints in silver wrappers) and lovingly unwraps it.  She takes a bite; she savors it; she takes another.  We discuss how delicious the combination of mint and chocolate can be.  She laughs at Lauren across the table, still talking on her pasta-phone.

Lauren: She's done now.  Her last forced bite of chicken has been swallowed, her last spaghetti-conversation has been finished, and she's ready for her treat.  Justin helps her unwrap the chocolate, and she chomps down with gusto.  Abruptly, her eyes narrow.  Her brow furrows, and her lips pop open; this must be a trick?!  SHE DOESN'T LIKE MINT!  She swallows forcibly, reaching for a cup of water and glaring at the leftover half of candy.  Thoughtfully, she turns it over; only one side is green....the other side is pure, unadulterated chocolate.  She begins licking that side.  She picks at it, hoping to salvage her treat.  Her lips and nose are covered in chocolate now. She is a mess as she gives up and discards the mint with a promise of a better treat at home. 

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The rainbow of colors these two girls emit are so vastly different, so uniquely interesting.  Not better or worse or more or less.  Just different.  And beautifully blinding.  And funny.  So funny.

Nothin' Says Lovin' Like Somethin' From The Swamp

The great thing about summer weekends around here, is the abundance of both family and food.  Really, it's a wonder any of us fit into bathing suits, which we must, or risk withering in the summer heat.  But last weekend was a doubly special occasion, because not only were we hanging out around the pool with the whole family, we were doing it for a reason: my parents' 30th anniversary!

30 years.  It sounds amazing when booted right up against my own 7 years from a few weeks ago, right?  But my mom and dad are special and besides that, they love to throw a good party.  Their idea of a party, though, is somewhat different than mine.  We'd both include lots of food and friends and family, but here's what they'd include:

Louisiana crawfish.  (Crawdads, to us country-folk.)  Thirty pounds of them.  I think they were well-received by the party-goers, even though my delicate tastes were offended by their creepy animalistic shape and smell.  But I do understand that most people actually like shellfish, so it was really fun.  I just kept darting around to capture the fascination of a crawfish boil, while wrinkling my nose in distaste.  I'm sure I was a wonderful guest!

There were two long tables laid out with crawfish that had been boiled with potatoes, corn on the cob, and mushrooms in some special Louisiana spice blend.

Justin was brave -- or at least open-minded -- while I stayed back.  Little Lauren was interested in the claws until she popped one in her mouth and tasted the spicy seasonings, at which point her face screwed up and she started making gagging noises in the back of her throat.  She proved my refusals worthwhile.  (Yes, it's usually a bad idea to take food advice from a 2 year old, but in this case, some loosening of ideals was warranted so I could stay away from the crawdads.  I'm a shellfish-wuss.)

This was as close as Mia got to the crawdads: some tactile discovery, then a polite return of the once-crawling thing to its owner's hungry hands.

I think this one was still trying to talk to me.  It had a French-Creole accent, if there is such a thing. Oh, ma petit fille, come closer to moi....I'm tres fantastique!

But I knew he was a tricky sweet-talker.  I went to sit on this guy's lap, instead. 

And I'll stay there for at least the next 30 years. 

Tuesdays Around The World: Today

Today, I'm fascinated by the beauty in a head of romaine lettuce.  And completely astounded that it grew in my garden.  And terribly sad that it will be the only usable head of lettuce I could manage to grow. 

Next year, I vow to pluck out most of the tiny romaine-leaves which pop through the earth so hopefully in spring.  As cute and tender as they are, they don't actually grow into whole heads of lettuce unless they're given room to grow.  I'm just glad that this one, tiny seed -- this nearly invisibly tiny seed -- happened to fall outside the rows I sowed intentionally, to grow away from all the others.  Lesson learned.

Another unintentional beauty?  This blackberry shrub.  It's clinging steadfastly to my back fence line, and I think I've never seen such beautiful berries before.  Well, except maybe HERE.  (Is that not a stunning photo of raspberries?!)

For more Tuesdays Around The World, visit Communal Global. Happy Tuesday!

Art Imitating Dinner

The girls got some sparkly paint in their Easter baskets, and they've loved creating artwork this week. Really, it was just colored glue from the dollar aisle, but it works, right?

Mia helped by squirting fresh globs of paint onto Lauren's paper, and complimenting every stroke: Thatta girl, Lauren! You're painting! It's looking sooooo beautiful!

Later, across the kitchen, I had my own painting session. A bigger brush, a more fragrant canvas, and substantially less glitter.

But also, substantially more payoff. If painting is good, eating your painting is better.

The Toothpaste Gospel

Mia's sitting on the bathroom counter, trying to decide between the fruity bubblegum toothpaste, and the minty toothpaste. Her legs are folded under her, and the toothbrush dangles in her hand as if waiting to be magnetically drawn to a tube of paste. In a flash of inspiration, she chooses: BOTH toothpastes. I hold out the Colgate and squeeze a dab onto her purple and yellow-striped brush. She wiggles and giggles at her unbelievable luck in convincing me to double up on flavors, and holds her brush steady for the sparkly pink gel to be applied next. Raising the toothbrush to her mouth, her eyes go nearly crossed trying to follow its path, and her eyebrows raise in excitement. TWO toothpastes, on the same brush: brilliant.

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We're sitting down as a family to dinner. Lauren's in her highchair tearing into a chimichanga, digging for treasured beans and pockets of melted cheese, stuffing sliced bell peppers into her mouth in huge strips, and cupping handfuls of shredded cheese as a backup bite. Meanwhile, Mia stares at her own food dolefully. She tears away a few bits of baked tortilla and crunches on them, making sure to tell us of her success. A bite! She took a bite! Now can she have some leftover birthday cake? Confronted with the ugly truth -- she needs to eat some actual food before she can have dessert -- she tosses her hair dramatically and closes her eyes. Wide-shut eyes: eyebrows defiantly high, mouth pursed in refusal, arms crossed with finality. But as soon as she sees Lauren's dessert being served, Mia buckles down and finishes half a chimichanga. Her pink and green cake is served, devoured, and declared delicious within a short 4 minute period, while the half-chimichanga took 30 minutes to be eaten.

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Justin is eyeing the leftover birthday cake with something close to disgust. He overindulged at the party yesterday, and hasn't felt so hot all day long because of it. He's irritable, bored, tired: not his usual, cheerful, after-work self. Knowing he consumed too much over-processed, sugary, fattening food the day before, he guesses his off-kilter feelings are due to the negative food effects. Listing his transgressions, he tells me, "I had at least 3 cookies, 2 pieces of cake, ice cream, and I don't even know how many slices of pizza. Not good. I'm not having any more. I feel too yuck."

Mia is terribly concerned for him. "You feel yucky? Why, daddy?"

He explains how too much junk food is bad for your body and even bad for your mood. "Just like in your Yummy/Yucky book, Mia. It says 'Ice cream is yummy. Too MUCH ice cream is YUCKY.' That's how I feel right now. I had too many treats, and now I feel yucky."

Mia understands. In fact, she looks slightly superior in her understanding. "Well," she scolds, "I don't feel yucky after my treats. Because I used two toothpastes to brush the yucky away. You should've did that, dad." She nods once, her knowledgeable gaze teaching us lessons we're just too daft to grasp.

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I sneak into the kitchen after bedtime, drawing a spoon from the drawer and turning to the freezer to sneak a treat. The kitchen is mostly dark, so the light from the freezer spills over me with either approbation or censure; I'm not sure which. I pop the top off the leftover strawberry ice cream, and dig my spoon into its frozen heart. Letting the freezer door close silently, I am plunged back into near-darkness, the better to savor my stolen bite. Just one bite -- ice cream isn't my favorite treat, but something about it was calling to me. Tempting me with its creamy, chilled, sweetness. I close my eyes and let the ice cream melt into strawberry-ish milk in my mouth. My teeth are getting dirtier by the second, coated as they are in artificial flavors and dairy sugars.

But I don't care.

Because I'm about to go scrub them clean with double-flavored toothpaste. Half little girl, half grown up: a true description of both the toothpastes on my brush, and me.

If growing up means I have to limit my choice of toothpastes, or my sneaky ice cream bites, then I shall remain half-girl from here on out.

Heavenly Help, Please?!

My friends, I'm coming to you in my hour of need. Your help is my only hope -- I know I can count on you, right? (This is starting to sound frighteningly familiar to a Nigerian fraud letter...)

Please give me some feedback here, because I don't know how much longer I can go on without assistance.

My question is this:

What do you feed your children for lunch?!

I know. It's going to take some consideration and thought for you to answer such a deep question, but trusting your thoughtfulness and honesty as I do, I KNOW you'll be able to help.

We usually just have some version of leftover dinner for lunch around here, but lately that's been getting harder and harder to do. I must be eating too much for dinner, because our leftovers are dwindling. But the real problem is that the girls usually don't eat a very good dinner. Picky palates or stubborn wills or whatever...dinner is usually frowned upon by my darling sweethearts. It makes for evening meals that are anything but enjoyable, and I don't want to carry that mood over into lunch, too!

So I've been slowly trying different lunch options, but they seem so limited. Sandwiches or wraps are good for Mia, but Lauren just peels them apart and makes food art with the mess. Crunchy, fresh veggies are good for Mia, but Lauren just bites down and spits it back out again. Some days, all Lauren ends up with is cheese and fruit for lunch.

As I write this, I'm seeing a pattern: Lauren doesn't do well with what I consider to be lunch type foods.

So maybe I should amend my question to be What do you feed your TODDLER for lunch?

If you tell me it's often fast food, I won't judge -- promise. Though it's not really an option for us financially right now, we still get fast food far more often than we should. What I'm really hoping for are some awesome grocery ideas from you all -- my knowledgeable and loyal peeps -- to keep us healthily fed while not breaking the budget.

Help! I need lunch ideas, pronto!

Sometimes...

The temptation is just too hard to resist...

Leaving an impatient toddler with a bitter mouthful instead of a sweet treat.

I'm sure there's a life lesson in there somewhere.