Fresh perspective

Almost a month ago my friend Eleanor wrote a really interesting post about having one child. It has stuck with me since then and I've thought about it over and over.

Up until now, my perception of a family included at least 2 kids. Probably because my family growing up had more than one child, maybe because I practice a religion that has cultural connotations of large families, possibly because that's mostly what I've interacted with.

I just didn't think having only one child was an option. Like they came in sets of at least two, like socks. I didn't ever think it was acceptable to just get one sock. Wouldn't that single sock be lonely? How would a single sock feel in a world of socks used to being in a pair? Would it always feel like the odd man out?


For some reason it took this one, small post to set my preconceived notions on edge.


Since then I've read and heard a lot about the sustainability of the earth and the impact we have as our population grows without limit. I started asking myself, "does a large family make sense to/for US?"


(please don't think I'm implying anything about anyone else's family. I think the choice to have kids/not have kids/have 1 kid/have a million kids is SO personal and I would never think to judge someone else's situation)


Thinking more, I realized that I had a perfect model to study. The ear doctor is an only child, and does not live up to the negative (and generally false) stereotype. Instead, he is incredibly thoughtful and outgoing. He is much more patient than I am. His communication skills are worlds better than mine. He has an amazing relationship with his parents. Growing up, his parents were able to give him some amazing opportunities that they might not have been able to if he had many siblings.

So I guess what I've been thinking is this: maybe it's about time for me, to start thinking a bit outside of my own little box and really consider all options for the future of our family. Why on earth would I make such an important decision based on preconceived ideals or notions? Or worse yet, expectations set forth by someone/something else?

Who knows, maybe only wearing one sock is the most comfortable and, in the end, best way for us?

A glimpse

The biggest change of getting a dog has been our morning routine.


We used to lazily set the alarm for 6 am, fully intending to wake up together to the sound of chirping birds. We'd lovingly gaze into the warmth of each other's glorious eyes and remark how perfect our lives are. How lucky we feel to be together. How the world was made just for the two of us to be centered together. Sometimes we'd fall back to sleep, wrapped in each others loving arms and awake again, just to repeat the process. It was random. It was unstructured. It was lovely.

Our dear little Roscoe has changed all of that.

Now, at the stroke of 6 am I jump out of bed, throw on whatever haphazardly lays around the floor and won't totally terrify the neighbors, grab a likely pee-covered leash and rush our little peeing machine down 3 flights of stairs to the grass below. Bleary eyed, I gently coo to our pup, "go bafroom, Roscey, go bafroom."

After he has accomplished his business, I attempt to take him for a walk. During said "walk" he alternately bites my pajama pants and his leash. With every fiber of my being I try to stay in control and calmly "train" him not to do either behavior. Really all I want to do is hoist him up by the leash and let him dangle there until he knocks it off. (don't worry, this never happens)

At about 6:35 I drag my sorry rear back up 3 flights of stairs to hand off the animal to the ear doctor so I can get ready for work. I'm not really sure what happens for the next 20 minutes because that time is dedicated alone time.

By 7:15 we are eating breakfast together and attempting to teach the little rascal not to beg from the table or jump into the love sac for our attention.

By 7:17 I have hurriedly cleared our bowls and the ear doctor is on his way to Roscoe's bin of smelly dog food to feed the beast.

By 7:18 the creature has finished his breakfast and is again threatening to pee all over my new beautiful green rug.

We then, the three of us gather all I'll need for the day and walk back down the 3 flights of stairs to go on a family walk and do some training together. This is my favorite time. The three of us are there and we're pretty ridiculously happy. I look over at my two guys and realize I'm a pretty lucky girl. They walk me to my car. The ear doctor works from home this summer, so I'm off to bring home some bacon while he raises the pooch and contributes to his chosen field of research. (Which, BTW, I'm totally proud of him for. He's going to improve the life of countless little kids with hearing problems)

As I sit in my car I glance back in my rear view mirror and see my man, standing tall and very handsome with a thin green leash in his left hand. That leash gently loops down to a patient little adorable puppy who has clearly watched me walk away and get in the car, ready to leave.

I realize in that moment that I'm going to miss those two while I'm away at work all day. Even thought I'd already bent over twice that morning to scoop up piles of foul smelling excrement, I was going to miss them.


Then I realize that this is probably a pretty small little glimpse of what the ear doctor's life is going to be like when we have our first baby and he has to go to work in the morning. I'll be holding our little poop-maker of an infant and he'll glance back at me, begrudgingly leaving for work. He'll wish he didn't have to go. He'll wish he could stay with us all day and help me raise our little runt.

And I want to remember that feeling because it was nice.

Ongoing debate

This morning the ear doctor and I locked horns over a very important, nay, EARTH SHATTERING issue. An issue whose seriousness makes those like off-shore drilling, the death penalty, and/or abortion look like insignificant wastes of time. An issue that has reduced me to a gibbering manic not unlike the people who try to make you sign petitions in front of the grocery store.

Are you ready for this?

No?

Too bad, because here I go:

Which type of cereal box closure tab is better? Old school:

Or the updated design:

Help us resolve this crushing debate soon or my marriage may just fall apart, which will drive me to the depths of despair making me too lazy to shower which will cause me to loose my job on account of bad hygiene and I will quickly be reduced to sleeping on park benches and picking through the trash for discarded cereal boxes which I will attempt to close over and over again in a vain attempt to piece together the broken shards of my hopes and dreams.

Why being an adult rules

Yesterday I had a rough day. A great friend got laid off and I just couldn't take it. The ear doctor and I went for breakfast before work. As I was driving him back to the house I suddenly got the urge for an ice cream sandwich. The little angelic voice coming from my right shoulder said (in a tone not unlike my mother's):

"ice cream before work? in the morning? that's not healthily. Ice cream is supposed to come in the evening...or at least the afternoon."



But then I turned to my shoulder and asked, "says who?"



Upon hearing no response I shrugged the little voice off and succumbed to my desire.



Here we are, at 8:35 am enjoying our snacks:

Look at how those sandwiches seem to emit a heavenly glow!

Rest assured, it made me feel much better.

Don't worry, the ear doctor did a post-ice-cream-sandwich-teeth check before I went into work.

Hip Hip

HOORAY!


Hey everybody, NASA was officially started 50 years ago today! Cool, huh!







I'm really proud to belong to part of a community whose motto is, "For the benefit of all"


Go out and make a wish on a star tonight.

Just stop

I'm having a pretty rough day. Factors are combining, rooms are caving in, and in-boxes are overflowing. I just can't take it sometimes.

That's when I like to run away and go to lunch, which is precisely what I did today. I ran home, grabbed the ear doctor and made him go out with me. Granted, he was a very willing kidnapp-ee.

As I stood in line, craning my neck to see what options I had on the large, over sized, ceiling mounted menu I saw something that wrankled my soul. I thought, "really, why today of all days?"

I was presented with this:

Future food-eatery owners of America,

Stop using stupid catchy phrases on your menu. There is nothing that makes me feel more ridiculous that ordering a "double dilly-yo." Honestly. What is wrong with calling it a sandwich and salad combo?

This kind of stuff happens all over and I've had enough. Even at my favorite sandwich shop (Snarf's) they don't let me order a small, medium or large sandwich. I have to pick between 4", or Snarf's size. Guess what, "SNARF'S" isn't a generally recognized unit of measure.

Don't even get me started on tall vs. grande. Guess what, people, THOSE WORDS MEAN THE SAME THING.

Lets get back to some normalcy that doesn't involve me using the word "dilly-yo" to a 17 year old high school grad.

Thanks.

Leaving

Lately there has been a lot of leaving in my life. And it's starting to get to me. In the past 2 weeks I've been to 2 going away parties for dear friends.


The first got a really great job in Baltimore so she's taking it. It's a great move for her and its' going to make her really happy. She's been one of my very best friends for the last 4 years. An amazing person, to the very core, she made me a better person for just knowing her.


The second? Her husband got a year long post doc position in Scotland. Yeah, COLOR ME JEALOUS! She was a person who I'd just recently met but could see years of real friendship ahead of me. I'm bummed that a real friendship is halted just in its infancy.


I get it that life moves on, it ebbs and flows. In my heart I understand that the picture in my head of "FRIENDS" doesn't really exist. Adults rarely stay in the same apartment for 10 years, surrounded by the same people doing the same thing. That's just not reality. People change, grow, move away and that's life. It just stinks sometimes, you know?

Best birthday

The two best photos from my birthday. First, my birthday PANcake:

Decorations set up by the ear doctor:

Even Roscoe was in awe of the beauty.

Collections

Some people collect stamps. Others coins. My little sister used to wear a ring on each of her 10 fingers.

What floats my husband's boat?

Ties.

Confession time

What is one thing that no one but your spouse/significant other/best friend knows about you?



Mine: Only the ear doctor knows that I subconsciously wiggle my toes whenever I hear music. Especially if my feet are propped up and I'm watching So You Think You Can Dance.



Your turn.

Citizens of my apartment complex,

Don't be worried about the billowing smoke emanating from the balcony of my 3rd floor apartment. The building is not on fire...yet.

The ear doctor is smokin some meat.

Yup, you heard me correctly. He has built a chamber, filled it with smoke, set it atop an aging, wood framed apartment building and provided a barely controllable source of heat. Please ignore the huge black cloud, accompanying flames, and loud blast from spontaneous combustion of chunks of hickory that issued from the assembly early this morning. It was nothing.

His ingenious plan, and our newest ticket to easy street is shown below for reference:

If you are interested in purchasing one of these potential building-burners, we will gladly build you a kit for the bargain basement price of $150.

All the best,

Katie

Top 100

This week I tried to make this 3 cheese pizza, but, man oh man did I not like it.

Probably becuase I decided to make a poor man's version. Instead of pancetta I used bacon. Instead of cremini's? Plain ole white mushrooms (although these were still pretty good). Instead of just making my own marinara? Store bought. All in all, this turned into a salty mess on a crappy crust.

Here's a step-by-step documentation of the failure.

First, making the crust. I've made lots of homemade pizza before with stunning results, but I tried to make the recipe the website linked me too. Mistake. The recipe said that it would be really sticky coming out of the food processor, but mine was a dry elastic ball of grossness. It was horrible. I knew from the second I took the lid off that it was going to suck and it did. Impossible to roll, not very tasty on the tounge. Just bad.

Then, I had to shread the cheese. I'm sure I've had Fontina before, but I've never cooked with it. I tried to use my processor to shread it, but it just smeared into a big ole mess. Lesson learned, don't take shortcuts with fontina.

Instead of pancetta I used bacon and decided to cook it up before hand. This was a good idea, but probably only added to the salty mess of the aftermath. But I still love bacon with all my heart.

While I was cooking the ear doctor had a photo shoot with Roscoe. He's still really cute, see:

Back to cooking: assembly was fine, but I was wary of the crust. Popped it in the oven for 15 minutes and out came these beauties. The looked really pretty, so I was hoping that my fears were misplaced.

They weren't; it was gross. The ear doctor ate it up like a champ because he knows it'd hurt my feelings otherwise. He even noticed that he got a piece of love pizza.

Cool, huh!?!?!

Reminder: If you want to join the club feel free! This link has a list of all the different recipes from Bonappetit's top 100 dishes that we're going to try. Leave a comment with your suggestion for next week's dish on this post.

Overheard

Right now two of my favorite co-workers are talking about how great their wives are. It made me smile from ear to ear.

Good idea El

Yesterday Eleanor asked a good question and I'm following up here. Let's play a little game.

Memory Game: 1. Add a comment to my blog by leaving a memory that you and I experienced together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little, or A LOT. All you have to do, is simply, remember. 2. When you've done that, post this to your blog, experience the memories from your lifetime, and I'll return the favor.

If I've never met you in real life you can comment about a post or a comment or some funny virtual interaction we've had, or something.

That'll be cool, right?

Confucius say

Many times on this blog I've referred to our budget. The ear doctor and I try very hard to stick to our budget. This is especially difficult when we go to the grocery store together.

Not because we buy a bunch of junk food or anything, but because of the little "game" he likes to play.

I hate pushing the cart or carrying the basket, so he willingly takes that job. The game begins when he starts randomly adding strange items to the cart and waiting for me to notice. This game becomes pretty stinking hilarious as we go past the bulk foods aisle and I end up with 10 lbs of canned artichoke hearts. Usually I'm really on top of my game, not a single package of chicken hearts and gizzards is missed by my wary and trained eye.

Last night, I was not on my game. I got home and while unloading the bags found these two little gems:

Pretty sure neither of these were on my list. What am I going to do with these?

I turned to the ear doctor, and asked him, "just how do these fit into our budget, my sweet darling?" He gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders.

A few hours later we dove into our dinner, capping off the culinary event with some delicious fortune cookies. Look at his fortune:

I've never really bought into the whole Confucius thing, but I may have to give it a try.

Easy to please

This morning I was moved by how pretty my cereal was.

On a side note: I was REALLY, ABSURDLY excited to see that Trix had returned to the spherical balls of my childhood, instead of the fruit-shaped-pieces they've had for the last 10 years.

Disaster averted

Yesterday we were planning on having a new couple over to our house for dinner. I really like getting to know new people and it's always nice to have someone new to cook for. I called them on Friday to make sure they could still make it and if they were vegetarians, allergic to stuff, or picky eaters. Their response? "we pretty much eat anything."

SWOON.

This is music to my ears. With a response like that, they had to be cool, right?

I really like to make a dessert for Sunday dinner and immediately this cheesecake sprang to mind. I've never tried to make a cheesecake, so I thought I'd give it a whirl:

(s'mores cheesecake with summer berries)

Because I had a lot of commitments earlier in the day, I got up at 6 am to start this bad boy. Well, I had commitments and that is the time that Roscoe starts to get really nervous that he'll have an accident in his crate. In our house we do pretty much anything to avoid in-crate accidents. ANYTHING. By 8am I had a beautiful crust and baked cake, eagerly awaiting the oven browned marshmallow topping. I also had to leave the house for the day, so there is sat cooling on my counter top.

At around noon I saw that I had a message on my phone. It was my dinner guests apologizing profusely for the stomach flu that had sneaked up on them during the night. Graciously I assured them that it was totally fine and that we'd do it again some time.

I hung up that phone and was irrationally pissed. Not so much at them, but at the cruel gods who toy with my emotions so. I had a half finished cheesecake waiting for only a marshmallow topping and no one to serve it to. I threw up my hands in despair and decided that the ear doctor and I could do our best to down the sucker.

At around 8pm I finally had the time to finish it up. As I started putting things together I realized in horror that I didn't even have a teaspoon of sugar left anywhere in my house. Aghast, I peered into the bottom of my white ceramic container. I never run out of sugar. I have a compulsive personality when it comes to being fully stocked with necessary baking ingredients. HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED?!?!?!

And then I realized that it's a good thing they didn't come over. Can you imagine the horror of just being served chocolate cheesecake without the marshmallow topping? It would have crushed our fledgling friendship to smithereens.

That's romance

Last night at around 3:30 am the ear doctor and I simultaneously rolled over, grumbled in exasperation and declared we couldn't sleep. This is the first time in the year we've been married that this has happened to us at the same time. I thought it was kind of funny.


Then I realized I wasn't sleeping well because my left hip was ACHING. Pain to the throbbing point of no allowable sleep. In frustration I told the ear doctor about my pain. Despite the dark, middle of the night staus, he immediately got up, went to the bathroom to get me some Tylenol, went to the kitchen to get me some water in my favorite monkey-shaped-cup-complete-with-sippy-straw and returned to bed to deliver my medical aid.


This, my friends, is a SERIOUS perk of being married. Especially to a guy like the ear doctor. Why on earth was I ever afraid of marriage and the threat of loosing my independence?



I love this guy so much it hurts.

Top 100

For some reason I've been CRAVING pizza. in any form. at all times. Which is really strange because I rarely crave anything. Lucky for me, BA has a pizza recipe on the top 100 list. I remember seeing this photo on the cover of the mag a few years ago and wanted to make it then. This week is my chance. I think we'll even try it on the grill!






Three-Cheese Pizza with Pancetta and Mushrooms

Reminder: If you want to join the club feel free! This link has a list of all the different recipes from Bonappetit's top 100 dishes that we're going to try.

livin on the edge

No one has ever described me as "edgy." I've never been mistaken for a spontaneous, fly-by-night, free spirit.

This used to really bother me because I thought I wanted to be one of those super fun, yellow personalities who woke up in the morning without a care in the world. Whose life was dictated on a moment to moment time scheme and deadlines just didn't exist. I thought that would really be the LIFE.

As the years have passed I've realized that's just not me. I make plans. And I execute. That's just who I am.

However, in the passed week I've really been stepping out into a dangerous realm, a place filled with frightening possibilities. A place where the unknown and harmful could happen at any second without me even realizing. And guess what? I'm not doing a thing to try to extricate myself from this situation. See:

Oh, what? You can't see what's going on here? Let me give you a better angle.

It's been there for over a week and I keep daringly sitting on it even though I'm well aware of the calamity that may ensue. Thrilling, no?