tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73788649662003057982024-03-07T23:34:20.717-06:00Happy Jack EatsJacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.comBlogger349125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-29106999409304721212021-01-03T20:37:00.005-06:002021-01-04T11:45:30.669-06:00And now, 2021!<p>2020 was hard, I think we can all agree on that. There was so much grieving - for the loss of normalcy, gatherings, connections, hugs, concerts, play dates, kindergarten, family visits, vacations, loved ones. But also, there was gratitude. Because once life was stripped of all that we once thought we needed to make it full, we found new ways to love and laugh, to connect and feel whole.</p><p>Grief, gratitude ... and growth. Perhaps 2020 was the year that forced many of us to shed old leaves and make space for new growth. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ExmzlY1YJ-o/X_J6Ojvf4PI/AAAAAAABLns/KqbLxa7OmQQnFXwkhd57RwtdKRS-v6nbwCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2774.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ExmzlY1YJ-o/X_J6Ojvf4PI/AAAAAAABLns/KqbLxa7OmQQnFXwkhd57RwtdKRS-v6nbwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2774.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iueNaQmCK9I/X_J6OtfqPjI/AAAAAAABLns/3WEGbH6AkLwngn7TmhkTwYDIhCEq9di7gCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2706%2B%25282%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iueNaQmCK9I/X_J6OtfqPjI/AAAAAAABLns/3WEGbH6AkLwngn7TmhkTwYDIhCEq9di7gCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2706%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K1l3h9cuX3c/X4PbgGOZBrI/AAAAAAABJEU/GRJJpHCzG6ssax_p2I5Ikje_OwnxHtFUgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_3708.HEIC" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We explored a new park, tried a new pizza place, went to bed way too late. I had corned beef hash for breakfast on Saturday, and waffles on Sunday, per little M's request after we ate chicken and waffles on Friday. I had possibly the best chocolate chip cookie I've ever eaten. Coloring outside on the back patio is a new morning activity, as we try to cut back on weekend TV. The playgrounds are finally open in our neighborhood, so I took little M out before dinner tonight. He made fast friends with another 5-year-old, and it felt so good to see him running around with other kids. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I rearranged my office / kindergarten classroom slightly over the weekend, moving books and drawers around, trying to keep the room functional and still spacious, for when M is doing his "Count to 100" song during math and running around in circles, or when he's sprawled out on the yoga mat surrounded by books and pillows during free reading time. I stood at the doorway, staring at the space, becoming very aware of just how bizarre the situation is - my son having kindergarten class from home, through a computer screen, because of a virus. It's become our everyday, and I try not to think about it too much, but sometimes, when I do, it doesn't even feel possible. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We've been living here for four months. That doesn't seem possible, either. Four months sounds so short. It reminds me to be gentle with myself, to take it slowly, to be patient. Things will continue to fall into place at the right time. Right now, I'll continue to explore this city - feeling like a stranger in what is now my home, but trusting that the feeling will pass. <br /></div><p></p>Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-18680994880848181382020-10-05T00:46:00.003-05:002020-10-05T01:17:56.161-05:00Here we are again, together, with pie. <p>"This is what Happy Jack Eats looks like now," we joked on Saturday evening, as Jenny sliced her strawberry pie in Mom and Dad's backyard and I took photos, trying to make them "blog-worthy" under the harsh patio lights - "Bad lighting, blurry, and Mom's gardening supplies in the background." </p><p>This is what Happy Jack Eats looks like now. </p><p><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YiWh650Lw4I/X3quctqvqHI/AAAAAAABIxk/pF6-TFM-qns5Nt_om0UFn4BaWwkUJFzYwCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2512.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YiWh650Lw4I/X3quctqvqHI/AAAAAAABIxk/pF6-TFM-qns5Nt_om0UFn4BaWwkUJFzYwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2512.JPG" width="640" /> </a></p><p><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-69sitCmrcBc/X3qucqwm4-I/AAAAAAABIxk/eWQ80VvU4cEhvL2BDDaj4qLxuHSd0bhIgCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2536.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-69sitCmrcBc/X3qucqwm4-I/AAAAAAABIxk/eWQ80VvU4cEhvL2BDDaj4qLxuHSd0bhIgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2536.JPG" width="640" /></a> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q-Az1dk27EU/X3qwBSjCnrI/AAAAAAABIxw/zOWHTUBo2EQs0x31FcNNSDQY3-0jPM7IgCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2524.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q-Az1dk27EU/X3qwBSjCnrI/AAAAAAABIxw/zOWHTUBo2EQs0x31FcNNSDQY3-0jPM7IgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2524.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c42cizvkyS8/X3qwBfyp4qI/AAAAAAABIxw/PDWUjd3TN9wCqKrzWPtYfqEQBdz7_wmUgCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2533.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c42cizvkyS8/X3qwBfyp4qI/AAAAAAABIxw/PDWUjd3TN9wCqKrzWPtYfqEQBdz7_wmUgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2533.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zccD_0rbksA/X3qwBcwqETI/AAAAAAABIxw/Bs0zZINQttAQop0NLSyrBwlelFNEhc4HgCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2540.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zccD_0rbksA/X3qwBcwqETI/AAAAAAABIxw/Bs0zZINQttAQop0NLSyrBwlelFNEhc4HgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2540.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6BM1efOWZg/X3qxGp6dG-I/AAAAAAABIx8/Xlk2YF6GrvYT9NrapQrDLSOKluxZI-4AwCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2556.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6BM1efOWZg/X3qxGp6dG-I/AAAAAAABIx8/Xlk2YF6GrvYT9NrapQrDLSOKluxZI-4AwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2556.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nq7Dl4O1rww/X3qxGk3xzuI/AAAAAAABIx8/D7nu_2eN_zkJSnb_0UxhIbQlDLJ9oyc7gCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2580.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nq7Dl4O1rww/X3qxGk3xzuI/AAAAAAABIx8/D7nu_2eN_zkJSnb_0UxhIbQlDLJ9oyc7gCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2580.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GM-b67SZ7pc/X3qxGvmhklI/AAAAAAABIx8/qMeEvZMFt2c0ZIZtVtGeA2KV54B1Bg7dQCPcBGAsYHg/s4368/IMG_2564.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="4368" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GM-b67SZ7pc/X3qxGvmhklI/AAAAAAABIx8/qMeEvZMFt2c0ZIZtVtGeA2KV54B1Bg7dQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h426/IMG_2564.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> <div>Before the pie, there was steak and fried rice and veggies and salad. We FaceTimed with Michelle in California. The boys wrestled, and Dad told stories about how his father was a guerilla soldier in the Philippines during World War II. We played a new game (Dos). <br /><p></p><p>This is what Happy Jack Eats looked like <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2011/07/film.html" target="_blank">then</a>. The photo below was taken nine years ago on Fathers Day (with my trusty Minolta SRT, which I just loaded with film again last week). Jenny, slicing a strawberry pie, in Mom and Dad's backyard. So much has changed, and yet here we are again, together, with pie. <br /></p>
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/happyjackeats/5855371884/" title="Untitled"><img alt="Untitled" height="432" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/2697/5855371884_74284ecdab_h.jpg" width="640" /></a><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js"></script></div>Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-192016318562832822020-09-28T17:00:00.001-05:002020-09-28T17:01:43.825-05:00Hike to Little Falls.<p>It's hot here. September is almost over, and temps are still in the
upper 90s. In August, I took Little M with me to his school
to pick up his Chromebook. The sun beat down on us as we walked through
the parking lot, burning into our skin. "It's too hot, Mommy," he told
me. "Let's move back to Illinois." I reminded him that it will cool off,
and that it doesn't snow here. I remind myself, when I'm getting stir crazy, stuck in the house while outside the thermostat reads 114 degrees, that summers in Vegas are like winters in Chicago -
they're brutal, but they pass. Soon we'll get relief, and I can't wait
to start spending our weekend days exploring the beauty of Nevada and
our neighboring states. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KnQ5q3wKlKo/X3FT8iYpgGI/AAAAAAABIZA/J3NGRe9SRwwQNK4dUL6EbdYqq6DkrrGqACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/CB51810E-BB28-4EEB-9BA1-22817DB6D978.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KnQ5q3wKlKo/X3FT8iYpgGI/AAAAAAABIZA/J3NGRe9SRwwQNK4dUL6EbdYqq6DkrrGqACPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/CB51810E-BB28-4EEB-9BA1-22817DB6D978.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jg4KbYrwdyk/X3FT8oIWnlI/AAAAAAABIZA/Fz85lDd8jL4bKH2URkqpj_I_wkG_K9NtACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/439EC260-F5A3-4906-8092-2724BEF959F9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jg4KbYrwdyk/X3FT8oIWnlI/AAAAAAABIZA/Fz85lDd8jL4bKH2URkqpj_I_wkG_K9NtACPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/439EC260-F5A3-4906-8092-2724BEF959F9.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AJngj0KMERY/X3FT8rrnhHI/AAAAAAABIZA/ELBYvHZloicLIo8QZV_11wtHezWUie-dwCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/DE92D992-44C6-4529-AA63-E86F99503D43.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AJngj0KMERY/X3FT8rrnhHI/AAAAAAABIZA/ELBYvHZloicLIo8QZV_11wtHezWUie-dwCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/DE92D992-44C6-4529-AA63-E86F99503D43.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eJWhkdmkUKU/X3FT8lPZVaI/AAAAAAABIZA/HphDA6hM2CAQPZBo8ugG4sFYKQBFRRdVACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/E2295CF6-B9AD-45E2-BEB0-33BA303D9797.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eJWhkdmkUKU/X3FT8lPZVaI/AAAAAAABIZA/HphDA6hM2CAQPZBo8ugG4sFYKQBFRRdVACPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/E2295CF6-B9AD-45E2-BEB0-33BA303D9797.jpg" width="480" /></a></div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1m6wPa7TcKY/X3FUKy58UnI/AAAAAAABIZE/PWiKpp_2p0wZMqgBIEjAkx89NxqKXekgACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/07D692B7-DF31-4D93-B14A-8C86CBA6ADFA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1m6wPa7TcKY/X3FUKy58UnI/AAAAAAABIZE/PWiKpp_2p0wZMqgBIEjAkx89NxqKXekgACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/07D692B7-DF31-4D93-B14A-8C86CBA6ADFA.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38Q8KrqtYLs/X3FUQ2LTLxI/AAAAAAABIZI/iASj1MgwkUI447eM8-TBJgFOJ8BsMbEbwCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/423853EA-F274-4676-9E66-4040D30CA884.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38Q8KrqtYLs/X3FUQ2LTLxI/AAAAAAABIZI/iASj1MgwkUI447eM8-TBJgFOJ8BsMbEbwCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/423853EA-F274-4676-9E66-4040D30CA884.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AbKh7ytzf1E/X3FUZ-lSqzI/AAAAAAABIZM/Cz2xRsxMrZ0ZxcqR84VKuthZ4P3HS83wgCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/43AA1B1B-0FA4-42D8-824B-E95E9BE1E6F2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AbKh7ytzf1E/X3FUZ-lSqzI/AAAAAAABIZM/Cz2xRsxMrZ0ZxcqR84VKuthZ4P3HS83wgCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/43AA1B1B-0FA4-42D8-824B-E95E9BE1E6F2.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EZboYuL3Pfo/X3FUibRnqDI/AAAAAAABIZQ/8dev1YFhhQMP2ao8ZnYeEdOOKXwYTLJhQCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/A657E69D-DA35-4A39-AD7F-DE40360645EC.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EZboYuL3Pfo/X3FUibRnqDI/AAAAAAABIZQ/8dev1YFhhQMP2ao8ZnYeEdOOKXwYTLJhQCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/A657E69D-DA35-4A39-AD7F-DE40360645EC.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On Saturday, we drove an hour out of the city to <a href="https://www.gomtcharleston.com/plan-your-visit/">Mount Charleston</a>, the highest point of the Spring Mountains. It's cooler up on the mountain (it actually does snow there), so we were able to take a small hike without dying in the heat. The Little Falls trail was short and easy enough for Little M, although he did ask if we could go back to the car more than once. Snack breaks helped, and the waterfall at the end of the trail was a nice reward.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I gave Little M my old digital point-and-shoot camera, the Canon PowerShot that I used to take photos of food and post here a million years ago. Now, below, I'm posting the photos that he made. I hope the camera helps him see the world differently, the way it did
for me - noticing how light changes everything, pausing to see beauty in
small moments, waiting, being still, and capturing the details. </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kZ1xIKwHAt0/X3FU5O2_ADI/AAAAAAABIZc/c3JQjhOraGUOhALbu1xtZQV_EeZ0VvLlACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2569.JPG" width="640" /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OuH3hOxmvAI/X3FVAeuFNqI/AAAAAAABIZg/FiMGoO4habMYyI1BTXTlnRCHzqpAwlBpwCPcBGAsYHg/s3072/IMG_2571.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OuH3hOxmvAI/X3FVAeuFNqI/AAAAAAABIZg/FiMGoO4habMYyI1BTXTlnRCHzqpAwlBpwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2571.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4440crcOBek/X3FVAaMv1bI/AAAAAAABIZg/hXmffYKThGAWa523UIa_w8BXWr2hOQ8SACPcBGAsYHg/s3072/IMG_2531.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4440crcOBek/X3FVAaMv1bI/AAAAAAABIZg/hXmffYKThGAWa523UIa_w8BXWr2hOQ8SACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2531.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-veS327_lgJE/X3FVASz3wUI/AAAAAAABIZg/Tw9LA2LcZFwXTg9sijXh4kZ-BXoQpCM1wCPcBGAsYHg/s3072/IMG_2526.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-veS327_lgJE/X3FVASz3wUI/AAAAAAABIZg/Tw9LA2LcZFwXTg9sijXh4kZ-BXoQpCM1wCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2526.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4pF4aKIiv8Y/X3FVAa8cskI/AAAAAAABIZg/v5C2KUpqBxUlE6SDNKYCymPASPo-pzfZwCPcBGAsYHg/s3072/IMG_2523.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4pF4aKIiv8Y/X3FVAa8cskI/AAAAAAABIZg/v5C2KUpqBxUlE6SDNKYCymPASPo-pzfZwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2523.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-61054686235509651892020-09-25T00:07:00.027-05:002020-09-25T09:27:33.947-05:00What our days look like now.<p>I deleted Facebook from my phone. </p><p>I watched "The Social Dilemma" on Netflix, and just like "Food, Inc." helped me to look more closely at the food I put in my body and to choose organic wherever possible, "The Social Dilemma" got me to look more closely at how much time I spend mindlessly scrolling and, to be honest, how that content is making me feel. The answers are: too much time, and mostly frustrated. I had been feeling icky about it for a while now, but I was unable to stop reaching for my phone every spare moment, going straight to social media, zoning out and getting that easy dopamine hit from the likes, share, connections. Watching that documentary was the push I needed to just delete the app already. I can still log in from my computer on the weekdays, since social media is my day job, but at least this way it's not consuming so much of my attention. </p><p>Before we moved out to Las Vegas this past summer, a friend asked, "Will you be posting on Happy Jack Eats again to keep us updated?" I hadn't even thought of that. I kind of liked the idea, but before I could answer, he said, "You know what? Just post on Facebook." Yeah, that's way easier. Everyone will see it there. But now that I'm taking a step back from social media, I'm reminded of the days before I relied so heavily on this platform. Remember good old blogging? Sitting down to write something longer than a caption, watching the blank page fill with words, the soft taps of the keyboard feeling almost like a massage running through my fingers, vibrating through my body and mind and soul. I missed this. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9zUzhMjjg2w/X211AHYALSI/AAAAAAABIKI/vbTd_R9VcjUmrWMxUUKINCQnxlKBR1LVgCPcBGAsYHg/s2208/A0063C83-6C9E-4143-B618-2AC31AB884D3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2208" data-original-width="1242" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9zUzhMjjg2w/X211AHYALSI/AAAAAAABIKI/vbTd_R9VcjUmrWMxUUKINCQnxlKBR1LVgCPcBGAsYHg/w360-h640/A0063C83-6C9E-4143-B618-2AC31AB884D3.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><p></p><p>So enough of all of that and let's just jump right into what our days look like now. We live in Las Vegas now, in a house with a pool and no grass, in a gated community literally on the edge of town. The neighborhood is surrounded by desert on three sides. If you find our house on a Google map, we're on a a little peninsula of houses, jutting out into the blank space. Standing in front of our house in the street and looking west, I can see mountains and sky. The other night after dinner, we walked to the end of the dead end street just outside our neighborhood, climbed over the low fence and up a small dirt hill. To the west and south - mountains and desert. To the north, more desert and just beyond, city lights. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p0Ck3mWMzxw/X212Z1snFhI/AAAAAAABIKY/0KWS7qf5UWEvbR-t5n-zgsie6Ul47RXrgCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_3434.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p0Ck3mWMzxw/X212Z1snFhI/AAAAAAABIKY/0KWS7qf5UWEvbR-t5n-zgsie6Ul47RXrgCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/IMG_3434.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-06U2CLiVA8g/X212ZxrLH7I/AAAAAAABIKY/1LRFjOnrbzAS_ue1fWhB6ZNAswPJD4yQgCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_2943.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-06U2CLiVA8g/X212ZxrLH7I/AAAAAAABIKY/1LRFjOnrbzAS_ue1fWhB6ZNAswPJD4yQgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2943.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lgKAbEayb2o/X212Z5Em20I/AAAAAAABIKY/MNBKSWc1vlIYFwGmyoapQKp1dQMqB204ACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_2945.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lgKAbEayb2o/X212Z5Em20I/AAAAAAABIKY/MNBKSWc1vlIYFwGmyoapQKp1dQMqB204ACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2945.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><p>My sister Jenny lives five miles north, my parents live five miles east. Sometimes Mom and Dad stop by to drop off pancit or stir fry or banana bread. Sometimes we go to Jenny's house for game night, which gets little Murdo excited because he and his cousin get to do "whatever we want" while the grownups play Puerto Rico for hours. It's like when I was little, and my parents would play mah-jongg with the neighbors across the street, and the neighbors' daughters and I would play Barbies or hide and seek or stay up way too late watching "Tales from the Crypt." Sometimes I can't believe we're the grownups, the parents now, checking on the kids every hour or so if we hear whining, carrying a sleeping little Murdo from the spare bed at Jenny's house to the car, then to the car to his bed at home after the 10-minute drive back at 1:00 in the morning. I'm glad he likes game nights so much. Me too.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyhyL-qpNM0/X212Z8I7QXI/AAAAAAABIKY/bTritLc6udEqRivrbZatmqHIEi3GRa8jQCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_2999.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyhyL-qpNM0/X212Z8I7QXI/AAAAAAABIKY/bTritLc6udEqRivrbZatmqHIEi3GRa8jQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2999.HEIC" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KqzRVc-wWj8/X212Z9-HE4I/AAAAAAABIKY/h-saUSBooeoEG7RIVC0yyHXOlijFR3REgCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/D371770A-D2E4-4CE8-8DB4-9974F489CEB9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KqzRVc-wWj8/X212Z9-HE4I/AAAAAAABIKY/h-saUSBooeoEG7RIVC0yyHXOlijFR3REgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/D371770A-D2E4-4CE8-8DB4-9974F489CEB9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p> </p><p>And then there is distance learning. Little M got into a great magnet program, an International Baccaleurate school where his dad also got a job as a third grade teacher. It's a little far from our house, and we hesitated to accept the spot for little M since his zoned school has a high rating and is just a few blocks from home. But we decided to go for it, and if it didn't work out, he could always register back to the closer school. To be honest, I'm still learning what it even means to be in an IB school. Right now, I know the school has a courtyard with a garden and turtle habitat,and little M is learning about balance and how to be a risk-taker and an inquirer. His first homework assignment is due on Tuesday: make yourself with materials around the house. No other instructions or guidance - just go do it!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LQPW7h3mmCc/X214FQvNx-I/AAAAAAABIKk/NWH60oDJeyASjqRhgXjbdTHNassxp0yXACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_3474.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LQPW7h3mmCc/X214FQvNx-I/AAAAAAABIKk/NWH60oDJeyASjqRhgXjbdTHNassxp0yXACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_3474.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p> The actual school days are long, long, soooo looooong. We are about a month in, and there are fewer tears (from both mom and kid). We are getting into the swing of things. M is able to mute and unmute himself and even navigate his live session on his own while I put on my headphones and try to focus on work for the 30 minutes he's occupied, before he takes off his headphones and asks me, "Now what, Mommy?" Independent work time involves practicing writing, drawing, coloring, reading books. I manage his schedule, keep him moving from one activity to live session to the next, fix his lunch and prepare his worksheets and open up his Google Meets and set timers so he doesn't miss a class. He's only been halfway late to one class so far, when one of my meetings ran long and for 40 minutes I completely forgot that I'm also a part-time Kindergarten teacher. After school, he's playing video games or watching TV for way too long while I finish up work and get dinner started. It's nonstop. I feel like I'm doing everything - working full-time, being a stay-at-home mom, teaching my son, keeping a home - and doing nothing as well as I should. There has been a lot of practice in letting go of expectations, guilt, and shame, and accepting what is. <br /></p><p>When I get tired, when I feel like curling into a ball in bed and waiting for someone else to do it all for me, I practice gratitude - for our home, our jobs, each other. That I only have one child and one school day to manage. That I am able to work from home with a flexible job that allows me to sit next to him while I work and he learns, and to help him practice sight words and counting and handwriting. Murdo in the den down the hall, teaching third graders how to write narratives. Lunches together. Endless sunshine. Walks in the evenings around the block or at the park. I go back and forth from feeling very stuck to feeling very grateful, multiple times a day. I know I am not alone with these feelings, and my heart breaks for every family navigating their own struggles in their own homes. This too shall pass, for all of us. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QyGvq0YRUwk/X212Z1bo1gI/AAAAAAABIKY/BgudyndInxIZH7inccio-9pTlfL1WIr7gCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_2478.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QyGvq0YRUwk/X212Z1bo1gI/AAAAAAABIKY/BgudyndInxIZH7inccio-9pTlfL1WIr7gCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2478.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>I think that's it for now. Oh, our 10 year anniversary is tomorrow. I haven't really had a moment to stop and think about that, because when I look back at the last decade... oh man, there is a lot to unpack. We are different people, a different couple, with a better, stronger marriage built on empathy, compassion, and trust. Trust in our love for each other, trust in ourselves, and trust in something greater. The work we've done building that trust brought us here. </p><p>I'll end this with a list of some places we've eaten at so far in Las Vegas, because Happy Jack Still Eats.</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><a href="https://www.sunsetstation.com/eat-and-drink/the-oyster-bar/" target="_blank">The Oyster Bar at Sunset Station</a></li><li><a href="https://www.mamabirdsk.com/" target="_blank">Mama Bird</a> - fried chicken and BBQ <br /></li><li><a href="https://fireflylv.com/" target="_blank">Firefly </a>- tapas</li><li><a href="https://www.nakamurayalv.com/" target="_blank">Trattoria Nakamura-ya</a> - Japanese Italian fusion</li><li><a href="https://sparrowandwolflv.com/" target="_blank">Sparrow + Wolf</a></li><li><a href="https://www.handelsicecream.com/" target="_blank">Handel's Ice Cream </a></li><li><a href="https://www.chipofftheblocklv.com/" target="_blank">Chip Off the Block Deli </a></li><li><a href="http://www.fukuburger.com/" target="_blank">Fuku Burger</a></li><li><a href="https://bellybombz.com/lasvegas" target="_blank">Belly Bombz</a> - Korean inspired chicken sandwiches </li></ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vFBUuDsixs0/X212Z_Z8c1I/AAAAAAABIKY/gea3k9cawgU8vTqtoN3LJz5Lrcod48ZAQCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/2A097672-28F9-4182-A4F9-80F632DD5116.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vFBUuDsixs0/X212Z_Z8c1I/AAAAAAABIKY/gea3k9cawgU8vTqtoN3LJz5Lrcod48ZAQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/2A097672-28F9-4182-A4F9-80F632DD5116.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6coO-uYZvOc/X23841c17qI/AAAAAAABIK8/O6I8lugYk5Aqraw5GTQFBgqMYZ0s6813ACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_2279.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6coO-uYZvOc/X23841c17qI/AAAAAAABIK8/O6I8lugYk5Aqraw5GTQFBgqMYZ0s6813ACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_2279.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-78814391342737134092017-05-20T20:28:00.000-05:002017-05-20T20:35:08.439-05:00A rewrite. <br />
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It feels strange to just jump right back in. But here I am again, after two years of silence, itching to write. I guess you could say that motherhood and marriage got really hard, really fast, and this space became something of a past life. I'm not even sure I belong here anymore, surrounded by entries of sleep schedules and photos of eggs. I'm not even sure what to write about.<br />
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No, I lie. I know what I want to write about. I just don't know how. <br />
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Last November, something happened. I uncovered truths that turned my world upside down, and shook everything out, and it would never, will never, turn itself back again - at least not exactly how it was. It was a Saturday morning. "Go for a walk," my sister told me after I called her from my car, sobbing hysterically. "Go someplace to clear your head. Someplace that makes you happy."<br />
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I went to our old neighborhood - our condominium complex that was set among wooded hills and four small lakes. I went to my favorite spot there - a short trail along one of the lakes, with trees on either side, creating a tunnel of thick foliage. I walked along my old running route, back in the days when I used to run. I revisited spots where I would stand with my old Minolta film camera, taking photos of my feet, and of shadows, of light hitting patches of earth wherever I could find it. Always chasing the light. I posted the photos here, in a past life.<br />
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I realized that I needed to take care of myself. There are some things completely out of my control, but in order to really give my family the love it needs and deserves, I need to love myself. I had forgotten how, or maybe I never really knew how. It's hard. It's all hard. I feel like I say that to myself over and over again, multiple times a day, sometimes just wanting to crawl back into bed and let someone else take care of it all for me. It's so hard. But no one else will do it. Reminds me of moments alone with little Murdo during those first few months, when I couldn't get him to nurse or I couldn't get him to sleep, and it hit me hard that no one else could do it for me. No one else could be a mother to my child but me. No one else can write my story but me. <br />
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This space isn't a past life. It's a part of my story. I'm just rewriting it from here.<br />
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I explored this idea for the first time in a yoga/support workshop that started off with a discussion about rewriting our stories. We sat in a circle on our yoga mats, about 10 of us, in a room with two walls of windows and the Sunday morning light beating through. Mostly, people talked about how they began rewriting their stories after a defining life event, and how their new stories included things like letting go, exercise, trying new things, noticing and embracing the synchronicities of every day.<br />
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I am rewriting my story to include love, light and Being.<br />
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Spirituality was not something that I wrote into my previous story. If anything, I might have intentionally left it out. But why? "I've always liked the idea of everything being connected," I said that day, to the circle of yogi strangers. "Of the same energy force passing through all of us. I never welcomed it before, but I am now."<br />
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What does this mean? Not sure, exactly. It means I'm reading more - searching for truth, inspiration and meaning through words. I'm making a stronger effort to find peace in my everyday, and to be more conscious of the present moment. Being mindful. I really hate to use that word because lately it's everywhere, and sometimes I feel like I'm just jumping on the bandwagon. I don't like bandwagons. But I find myself drawn to those beliefs - of meditation, silencing the ego, breathing positive energy in, negative energy out. Although mainly I just feel like I'm stumbling around, trying not to be a phony, hoping that one day it just all makes sense to me. That I'll find it, whatever it is I'm looking for. Is that how it finally happens? <br />
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One evening during little M's dinner time, he started having a meltdown and flinging food across the kitchen. It was the end of a long day, and I was tired. I thought about the rest of the night's story. We don't have to rewrite chapter by chapter, waiting for the next big thing. We're editing every single sentence at every moment. So in that small moment, I decided that the evening's story would not be taking a sharp curve into a deep hole of frustration and negativity. There's no reason to let one sentence, one moment, one thought take over my night. A period, a pause. There is still more to go. I've got this.<br />
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<i><b>"Stories are important," the monster said. "They can be more important than anything if they carry the truth."</b> - from </i>A Monster Calls <i>by Patrick Ness</i><br />
<br />Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-52204193870587753312015-07-20T23:23:00.001-05:002015-07-20T23:26:30.544-05:00Five months, and a weekend.I took a vacation day on Thursday and worked from home on Friday, making the weekend feel very long. It was nice. Every day felt like a Sunday, except without the impending doom of Monday just around the corner. Instead, relaxed -- spending time at home with family, doing simple things like giving the baby a bath, drinking a beer out on the patio, going to Menards to look at shelving (We're turning our downstairs closet into a pantry! Hooray for kitchen organization!), lighting the grill while the sky turned pink and orange, then dark.<br />
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We went to my parents' house to visit my brother-in-law and niece in town from California. Ella asked to hold Little Murdo shortly after we walked through the door. She talked fast about elves and treasure and super grapes. She watched me breastfeed the baby, asking if it hurt if he bites. I told her he doesn't have teeth yet so I don't know, but probably, and she told me when she has kids, she'll adopt. I laughed.<br />
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On Friday, M turned 5 months old. He celebrated with sweet potatoes, lots of tummy time and laughs, and finally getting those toes in his mouth.<br />
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We went swimming at Murdo's parents' house and watched as huge white puffy clouds came rolling quickly overhead. "The kinds of clouds that make you realize the world could end you, just like that," I said to Murdo. The sky has a great way of reminding us how very, very small we are. But that's OK, because then you pick some tomatoes in your yard and realize that something as small and simple as a little red tomato plucked from the earth and held in your hand can be just as amazing as a big, big, untouchable sky.<br />
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We grilled steaks and veggies after putting the baby to bed. Murdo prepped the steaks and got the grill ready while I chopped vegetables and assembled and seasoned them in individual foil packets. For a moment it was just like a night from summers past, cooking a simple summer meal together and getting to eat it without interruption. It felt nice to get a piece of that life back. All the while, our little babe slept peacefully upstairs.<br />
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Weekends like this, with these guys. Wouldn't trade them for all the stars and clouds and colors in the sky.<br />
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<br />Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-59037414430777801342015-07-09T15:30:00.001-05:002015-07-09T15:30:57.647-05:00Lately.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We spent the July 4th weekend at our family lake house in Michigan. Murdo enjoyed napping on the boat, dipping his feet in the lake for the first time, and eating bananas out on the deck. I enjoyed Jack and gingers, Grapefruit Summer Shandys, and evenings by the fire while the baby slept like a champ. Also, I did not take a single photo of food. I don't even know who I am anymore. I keep telling myself to take more non-baby photos, but every moment I want to capture is wrapped up in him. <br />
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Speaking of food, Murdo started solids! So far: bananas, avocado and squash. He seems to like the bananas and squash the best, and is getting better at opening wide for the next spoonful. Little M got his first bite of food on his dad's 33rd birthday; last year, on Murdo's 32nd, I handed him a box with a little stick inside, with a faint little line that told us we were pregnant. Crazy how much changes in just a year.<br />
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This kid is all about standing and kicking. His new jumper makes him so so happy. He loves looking up and seeing the world from a different perspective, and getting a chance to work those leg muscles. </div>
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Shortly after I proudly proclaimed M sleeping through the night and breastfeeding easy as pie, he started waking up at 3:30 in the morning and wanting bottles more than the breast. For the most part, he's still sleeping great, and I'll continue to breastfeed until at least six months. But I told myself that I'm not going to stress out about my milk supply anymore. No more guilt when we give him a bottle before his bedtime routine because he's crying hysterically, too impatient and too tired to wait for the breast milk to let down. No more feeling guilty because maybe I'm not pumping as much as I could be. I fed him a bottle myself for the first time since his first few weeks (he usually gets his bottles from his dad). I thought it would feel wrong, but then I realized: this isn't bad. He's eating, and he's happy, and he's healthy, and that's all that matters. </div>
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-78782034685322865352015-06-25T14:55:00.000-05:002015-06-25T14:55:33.229-05:00Four months.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Little Murdo turned 4 months last week, and I can't get enough of the kid. At his 4 month check up, he weighed in at 15 lbs 5 oz and is 25 inches long. I've reached that point where I'm realizing just how quickly he's growing, and I want time to stop.<br />
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Here's an update on how he's doing these days.<br />
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<b>How is Murdo sleeping? What's his schedule like?</b><br />
In the last month he's graduated from swaddle to sleep sack, learned how to roll onto his tummy, and figured out how to suck his thumb. All of these things have helped him learn to soothe himself to sleep, so naps and bedtime are pretty easy -- once he's down in the crib, we rarely have to go back in to comfort him. We typically start putting him to bed around 7:30 to 8:00. His bedtime routine is pretty short and sweet -- change diaper, bedtime story, nurse, then a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_kiOvoloIs" target="_blank">song</a> while I bounce him on the exercise ball. He's starting to skip his middle-of-the-night feeding and sleeps straight through until I wake him around 6:15 to eat before I leave for work. Then he usually sleeps until 10 to start his day with Dad. During the day, he's awake for an hour and a half to two hours between naps, and naps anywhere from 40 minutes to two hours. Keep it up, kid!<br />
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<b>How is Murdo eating?</b><br />
He gets about six to eight feedings, and eats every three hours or so during the day. Mostly breast milk, but he'll get the occasional bottle of formula also. His pediatrician just gave us the go ahead to start him on solids. My goal has always been to breastfeed for at least six months, and I'm already pretty certain I'll continue after that. It's the best thing for him, of course, but also: Convenient! Easy! FREE! And now that I'm back at work, I really love the time we have together when I nurse him.<br />
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<b>What's he into?</b><br />
Lately he's been working on his grasping skills, and he just recently found his feet. He's gonna get that foot in his mouth any day now! He's laughing now, although getting more than a smirk or giggle out of him can be hard work. Put a camera or phone in front of his face and he freezes up and stares, so capturing one of his gummy smiles is nearly impossible. He is already mesmerized by screens. I can't believe I only have a 4-month-old and already have to make sure to limit his screen time!<br />
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And, because I get this question a lot, too...<br />
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<b>How is it being back at work?</b><br />
During the last couple weeks of my maternity leave, I wasn't really worried that I'd miss M too much or that it would be hard to leave him every day. I was more worried that he wouldn't eat or sleep well while I was gone. Well, once I got back to work I realized that there was no need to worry at all -- he'd be fine, and stressing out about it all day would not help at all. In fact, being away from him helped me realize that I can't control everything, which can be tough to grasp when you're in the trenches with baby all day, every day. So it's nice to be out of the house and doing non-Mommy things, but I do miss him more than I thought I would. I miss him every single minute. And though I don't think I could be a stay-at-home mom full time, I really wish there were a way I could spend more time with him.Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-4476146331527324002015-06-21T08:00:00.002-05:002022-04-10T10:18:16.924-05:00Happy Father's Day.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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He has to-do lists scattered around the kitchen. <i>Buy stakes for tomato plants. Fix headlight. Bleach cat boxes.</i> Lists for each day of the week, a master list for the entire summer break. I find them in the morning next to notes left for me, written the night before, telling me to have the best day ever and that my Murdos love me.<br />
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He goes grocery shopping. He sends me pictures of our boy behaving so sweetly in the cart. He texts, "Do you want cheddar brats or regular brats? Do you want tots?" I answer: "Regular. And yes!"<br />
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He puts the boy down for a nap so that he's sleeping when I get home from work. He goes outside to start grilling while I change, slice onions, preheat the oven for tots, take pictures of our blooming clematis in the backyard. The boy wakes up and I feed him while Murdo finishes making dinner. We're having brats and tots, with charred mustardy onions. They're delicious. We watch <i>Orange is the New Black</i> while we eat, the boy in his bouncy chair by my feet, playing and smiling happily before finally dozing off.<br />
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After dinner, I want to hold my baby. I want to feel his warmth and cuddle and kiss him. I realize I've hardly held him all day besides when feeding him. I think about the tiny newborn shirt I found the other day mixed in with the laundry -- a memory of how small he used to be, how big he's getting and how fast. Has it really already been 4 months since he was born? Was there really a time when he was small enough to fit into those tiny clothes, when he couldn't hold his head up, when he passed out on my chest after every feeding, when he ate every two hours around the clock? A part of me (a big part) is glad that we're past that. Another part is sad.<br />
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So I pick him up from his seat, lean back, and place him on his tummy on my chest. He lifts his head (<i>so strong!</i>) and props himself up on his arms, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide with curiosity, his mouth open and ready to smile. His daddy slides over on the couch so that he's next to us and smiles. Little M smiles big right back. They are smiling, and laughing, and talking. I hold M on my chest and soak it all in. <i>This is everything.</i><br />
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To Murdo, my husband: Happy Father's Day. And thank you. Thank you for moments likes these. For taking such good care of our son, for loving him so much, for texting me pictures and videos throughout the day because you know how it feels to miss him while at work, even after just a few hours away. For making him laugh the way you do. For going grocery shopping during the week because I can't find the time on the weekend. For cooking dinner. For putting up with me when I get crazy and cranky. For those first 10 days in the NICU -- thank you for being strong, and for asking the doctors all the right questions, and for diving headfirst into fatherhood with no fear, and all the confidence in the world, like you do with everything. For those first couple months when M was just a tiny newborn and I couldn't do simple things like dress myself, and you were taking care of all of us, constantly washing pump parts and keeping track of my medications and getting me water and paying hospital bills and feeding the cats and making sure the house didn't crumble around us. For being the best father from the very beginning, from the moment he was born, when you said to me in disbelief, "He's here. He's here!" For every moment since, and every moment still to come.<br />
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-37031603781997968542015-06-13T14:15:00.000-05:002015-06-13T14:26:13.174-05:00Some favorite baby things.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When the time came to create a baby registry, <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2014/10/on-joining-club-and-chicken-tinola.html" target="_blank">I freaked out a little</a>. I asked for advice from every woman I knew who had had a baby in the last 10 years. It's really amazing and heartwarming the way moms help each other out -- the way they're willing to write detailed emails with the why's, how's and where's of their favorite baby items. Because they've all been through it, and when you find that one item that changes the game completely, that somehow magically transforms your baby from wailing monster to peaceful angel, well, you want to shout it from the rooftops.</div>
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So, here I am, on a rooftop. These are my top favorite baby things that we use/have used on a nearly daily basis.<br />
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<b><a href="http://sollybaby.com/" target="_blank">Solly Baby Wrap.</a> </b><br />
If Little Murdo and I were stranded on a deserted island and I could only have one item, this would be it, kids. First off, it gets him to nap nearly every time, sometimes for up to four hours. I wouldn't say I get tons of stuff done around the house when I'm wearing him, but I have prepped/cooked simple dinners, and done laundry, and paid bills. What I really love about this wrap, though, is that Murdo will nap in it wherever we go. So when we went to a birthday party a couple of weekends ago and had to bring the baby, I was able to just throw him in the wrap. He got the sleep he needed and I was able to eat, drink and be merry with friends. I also love that it's super thin, breathable material. A friend let me borrow her <a href="http://mobywrap.com/" target="_blank">Moby</a>, which wraps the same way, but I thought it was too thick and bulky. The Solly is kinda pricey but for me, totally worth it.<br />
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<b><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/baby-sprout/id551448817?mt=8" target="_blank">Sprout Baby app.</a> </b><br />
I've been tracking M's feedings and my pumping sessions in this app since we brought him home in February. I've become kind of ridiculous about it -- I time each feed, I log the ones that I missed while I'm at work, I rely on it to tell me the last time M ate or which side I left off on. I pretty much can't live without it. Having a record of all his feedings helps me track his sleep schedule, and see how everything is progressing each month. And there's a super helpful overview section that keeps all the totals together -- perfect for answering all those questions the doctor asks at each wellness visit. And! It syncs across devices, so Murdo can track on his phone, too. It's $5 but again, worth it.<br />
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<b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fisher-Price-Deluxe-Bouncer-Rainforest-Friends/dp/B00B9ZRZI0" target="_blank">Fisher Price Deluxe Bouncer.</a></b><br />
It seems like most babies are into either swings or bouncy chairs. We tried both, and M is in the bouncy chair camp. I registered for this one because it was affordable and got good reviews on Amazon, and it has become the best way to get M to wind down after play time and get ready for his nap. I usually just set him down in the chair facing me, give him his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lamaze-Play-Grow-Freddie-Firefly/dp/B000I2Q0F4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1434152471&sr=8-1&keywords=freddie+the+firefly&pebp=1434152472894&perid=57F50428541546048F51" target="_blank">favorite toy</a> or his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Angel-Dear-Blankie-Blue-Tiger/dp/B004U8X7CG/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1434153098&sr=8-2&keywords=dear+angel+tiger+lovie" target="_blank">lovey</a>, and bounce the chair with my foot while I have my hands free to eat, or check emails, or write a blog post (he's in his bouncy chair as I type this!). He'll typically doze off after 15 minutes or so, and then I'll take him to his room for a nap, or just let him snooze in the chair. This bouncy chair is how Murdo and I are able to eat dinner together while watching <i>almost </i>an entire episode of <i>Game of Thrones</i>. You guys, you can't put a price tag on that. However, this item has also been dubbed "the toe stubber," because even when you know it's there, you're gonna whack your toe on the thing, every. single. time.<br />
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<a href="http://store.ergobaby.com/swaddlers" target="_blank"><b>Ergobaby Swaddler. </b></a><br />
This is one that I could probably live without, but I am glad we got it and wish we had gotten it sooner. We didn't really start swaddling M consistently until he transitioned from the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fisher-Price-Newborn-Sleeper-Rainforest-Friends/dp/B00BUO4664" target="_blank">Rock 'n Play</a> to the crib at around 10 weeks. At that point, we were using the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/SleepSack-Cotton-Swaddle-Cream-Small/dp/B003E6OBMA" target="_blank">Halo Swaddle</a>, binding his arms to his side so he couldn't move them at all. He hated it, and fought it, but he'd eventually fall asleep for long stretches in his crib, so we kept swaddling. I bought the Ergobaby swaddle on a whim at Target, and I liked how it was a stretchier material that bound his arms to his chest. So he was still able to move his arms, but any sudden flails or Moro reflexes wouldn't keep him up. He started escaping the swaddle more and more, and we stopped swaddling around 15 weeks, when we caught him rolling over to his tummy in the crib and he learned how to suck his thumb to self soothe. Now he sleeps arms out in a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/SleepSack-Cotton-Wearable-Blanket-Small/dp/B00008KWO4" target="_blank">Halo SleepSack</a>.<br />
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-66781492905651039832015-06-10T17:15:00.001-05:002015-06-10T17:15:45.596-05:00Shifting.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The newborn haze was thick. So much so that Murdo even told me I had become a different person at times. I was overly worried and confused about breastfeeding and establishing my milk supply, going from obsessing over exclusively breastfeeding, to ready to give up to supplements, and back again. Nerve damage and an opened incision from the C-section left me in pain, unable to move and use my body the way I wanted to, the way I needed to. I didn't expect recovery to be easy, but I was certainly not expecting to have to wait a full eight weeks before I could complete simple tasks again, the way I could before I was pregnant, back when I put my socks on every day without ever appreciating how awesome it is to be able to put your own socks on.<br />
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It really is difficult to see a way out of the haze when you're in the middle of it. They say it just takes time, that the newborn stage is the hardest part and you just have to get past it. But when sleep deprivation turns the days and nights into one long tunnel of feeding, changing, rocking, crying, it's hard to see the light at the end. It's there, though. I only know this because I made it out alive.<br />
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And you guys, what a light it is! Sometime around the beginning of April, my incision finally healed and I was able to lift things, reach things, drive, walk around the house comfortably instead of shuffling slowly with my back hunched over for fear of another stitch popping. Breastfeeding started to click, just like that, and Little Murdo more than doubled his birth weight by the time he was 10 weeks old. He gave me his first smile and started becoming more aware of his surroundings, and in the weeks that followed, quickly went from hungry, wiggly, fussy thing to kicking, smiley, still hungry, <i>I-can't-believe-how-lucky-we-got</i> good.<br />
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Example: After sleeping through the night for the first time last week, he woke up at 5:30 for his morning feeding. I was so proud as I watched him on the monitor screen, kicking in his crib and sucking his thumb and cooing to himself. I knew he had to be hungry and was all ready to get up and feed him when just like that, he soothed himself back to sleep and slept for another hour. High fives, kid. You're the best.<br />
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Little Murdo is 16 weeks old now. We're getting back into a routine of sorts, in the loosest sense of the word. Making time to prepare a homemade meal is still a struggle. After going back to work and realizing just how many hours of the day I'm not with my son, every minute I am home I just want to spend making him smile, not making dinner. So we've been eating a lot of takeout and fast food, or making quick smash burgers in the cast iron skillet, or throwing a bag of Trader Joe's orange chicken in the oven. On one Sunday I made a double batch of corn chowder and froze half, and I'm hoping to do more planning ahead like that, but then other things come up. Like having to parent by yourself one Saturday because your husband decides he needs the time to dig up and replace all the soil in the raised garden bed and then plant 20 tomato plants in said garden and in containers all around the yard. <i>Twenty</i>! I suppose, come mid-July/August, the meal problem will be solved: tomatoes for breakfast, lunch, dinner, all day, every day!<br />
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All that said, for any of you reading this (Hello? Is anybody even out there?), I wanted to give you a heads up that although the title up there is Happy Jack <i>Eats</i>, the conversation around these parts, like every part of my life since starting this food blog in 2008, has changed. I struggled briefly with the idea of shifting focus, going from food blog to what? Mommy blog? Lifestyle blog? And then realizing, who cares? I started this space to write, and over the years it became my space to both escape and connect, to learn and make sense of things, and I don't want to let it go. So I'll let it change with me, and for anyone still following along, I'd love for you to stick around while I learn to navigate this new chapter. There will still be food and the occasional recipe, because I still love to eat (and I can't wait to start feeding Little Murdo solid foods), and there will still be photos, because I invested in an expensive camera so I sure as hell better use it. But mostly, there will be stories and photos of family and everyday life, which really, at its core, is what this blog has been about all along.<br />
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<br />Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-40558308410622406522015-03-24T09:20:00.000-05:002015-04-29T10:46:28.795-05:00Five weeks.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 19.9999942779541px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He's here. On February 17 at 4:23 AM via an emergency C-section, our son Murdo Scott MacKenzie II was born. He had a rough start into this world, entering two and a half weeks early with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and spending his first nine days in the neonatal intensive care unit for breathing issues, jaundice and low blood sugar. But he is strong, and he made it home to us, and today he is five weeks old. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.9999942779541px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He is the fourth Murdo in the MacKenzie family, including his dad, his grandpa (after whom he's named) and his great grandpa, but he is only the second Murdo Scott - making it very confusing for people when they assume he's named after his dad and I have to correct them. It's a conversation he'll be having the rest of his life, explaining to new friends that no, it's not his last name and no, don't call him Junior, but it's a strong, meaningful name that I hope he'll be proud of. </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19.9999942779541px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Our life has changed, just like everyone said it would. They leave out the gritty details though, and at first I thought it was because they don't want to scare you, but now I know it's because there's no way to really understand until you're in it yourself. Until you're alone in a dark nursery at four in the morning with a screaming newborn after hours of nonstop feeding and changing and feeding and changing; or you're trying to prepare what was once a simple lunch in a past life but is pretty much an impossible feat now that you only have one working hand and a small human attached to the other; or you look at your husband on the other side of the couch as he holds and talks to your son and you realize you love the person he has become, the father he is becoming, more and more every day, just like you always knew you would. </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19.9999942779541px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And him. My baby. He enjoys eating slowly and frequently. Silhouettes of house plants against a lit window grab his attention. Today he cooed for me - the first sounds I've heard from him that aren't cries or grunts. We're learning about each other slowly, all three of us, and trying to settle into a routine of sorts. My days are no longer defined by sleeping and waking hours. Instead, there are the dark morning hours when it's just me and baby Murdo, nursing and burping and watching "Gilmore Girls" on Netflix. There are the daylight hours, when all three of us are up (we're fortunate that Murdo was able to take over a month off work for paternity leave), and there are visitors and doctors appointments and diaper changes and laundry and one real meal squeezed in for mom and dad - eaten together if we're lucky. And then the evening and late night hours, which can either be very good or very frustrating, very restful or very long, depending on how the baby is feeling that night. </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19.9999942779541px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This morning I woke up at 5:30 to feed Murdo. After I placed him back in his sleeper, I went down to the den, the baby monitor in my robe pocket, and turned on the computer. I edited photos and began writing this blog post and for the first time in five weeks, I felt like I got back a piece of that past life that I thought had forever changed. It felt good. It feels good. To be his mother and to still be me. </span></span><br />
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-6428314899928166182015-02-03T22:06:00.000-06:002015-06-11T08:57:13.287-05:0035 weeks.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This will probably be my last post before the baby is born, and in true "my-mind-is-a-jumbled-mess-right-now" form, I'm writing this post in the style of a bulleted brain dump.<br />
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<li>It's snowing right now. We had a blizzard earlier this week, forcing me to stay indoors and work from home the past couple of days. Murdo and I took a late night walk around the block on Sunday night, when the blizzard was winding down, and we took in the sparkling white silence. Then, on Monday night, we got stuck pulling out of the driveway on the way to the grocery store, and our appreciation for the beauty of snow was quickly replaced with the reminder of how much snow sucks. Later, we got milkshakes, because everyone in the Chicago area right now deserves a milkshake. </li>
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<li>The crib is up! The stroller is assembled! Tiny outfits have been washed and dried and hung and folded! There is a little book case in the nursery already stuffed with copies of "Goodnight Moon," "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," "Pat the Bunny." We are far from finished getting ready, but I'm just happy knowing that if our little one gets here tomorrow (dear Baby, please don't decide to get here tomorrow!), at least he'll have a cozy place to sleep. </li>
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<li>I've been cooking up large batches of freezer meals for those many, many nights once the baby is born when I won't have time to cook dinner. So far, we've got <a href="http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/braised_bbq_beef_sandwich/" target="_blank">braised BBQ beef</a> for sandwiches, <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2014/09/4-years-with-pork-meatball-banh-mi-and.html" target="_blank">pork meatballs for banh mis</a>, and <a href="http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2014/05/spicy-chorizo-and-pinto-bean-chili-recipe.html" target="_blank">Kenji's chorizo and pinto bean chili</a>. Next on the list is taco meat, pasta sauce and <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2010/02/must-eat-italian-meatballs.html" target="_blank">Italian meatballs</a>. That is, if my body doesn't fall apart first from the exhaustion and strain of growing a human.</li>
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<li>As of today, I am 35.5 weeks along. I've developed a waddle. I'm seeing a physical therapist to deal with pelvic and back pain. I've ugly-cried at least twice in the past week -- once at work in front of my boss, and once into Murdo's chest in the middle of the nursery. My maternity pants are starting to get too tight. I want to eat more vegetables but I don't have the energy to cook them. I have four and half weeks left, and most of the time, I can't wait to not be pregnant anymore and to finally meet this kid and to start this new part of our lives. </li>
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<li>And then he rolls around in my belly, and I remember that there's a little person in there, and this is the closest he will ever be to me and the most I will ever be able to protect him, and every moment with him, from the seconds watching that faint little line appear on a stick until the day I die, should and will be cherished. </li>
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-58242129949665446782014-10-22T17:10:00.004-05:002015-06-11T08:56:52.053-05:00On joining the club, and chicken tinola. <div style="border: 0px; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I knew that becoming a mother would be like joining a club of sorts, with an initiation of birthing a human and a common lifetime goal of not killing the kid, but I don't think I knew the extent of it until I started creating a baby registry. You guys, parenthood isn't just a club -- it's an alien universe with its own special language (terms like "babywearing," "nipple confusion" and "Woombie" are common in everyday conversation), transportation devices (infant seat, umbrella stroller or complete travel system with one-handed folding capabilities?) and food beliefs (breastfed, formula fed, baby-led weaning...). And of course, each baby item comes along with personal horror stories ranging from "this product is mildly annoying" to "my baby almost died using this." Yikes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm also learning that over thinking and overwhelming often go hand in hand. So while I'm welcoming any advice that moms have to offer, I'm trying to remember that this baby isn't coming into the world perfectly accessorized -- that there will be some trial and error and tears and triumphs, and in order to really decide between the Maya Wrap and the Ergo and the Baby Bjorn, I'm just going to have to strap the kid to my chest and see what happens. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">While the baby registry has me backing away slowly, one thing that I can't help but want to dive right into is feeding the kid. I'm already fantasizing about family dinners around the kitchen table, where Mom, Dad and Kid each have their own individual French bread pizza customized to their liking (pepperoni for Dad, fresh tomato for Mom, and hopefully something somewhat nutritious for Kid). Introducing him to Filipino foods like <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2009/04/moms-pancit-recipe.html" target="_blank">pancit</a>, <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2010/11/my-familys-chicken-adobo-recipe.html" target="_blank">adobo</a>, <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2011/01/how-to-make-lumpia-filipino-eggrolls.html" target="_blank">lumpia</a>. Helping him discover how he likes his eggs cooked. Creating memories rooted in the flavors of his childhood. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I watched this great video about <a data-mce-href="http://notwithoutsalt.com/olive-oil-zucchini-bread/" href="http://notwithoutsalt.com/olive-oil-zucchini-bread/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Ashley's blog Not Without Salt</a> (scroll to the bottom of Ashley's post to watch) and her approach to cooking as it relates to her family. In it she says: </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"I can't be everything for these little people, but what I can do is give them a good meal and help facilitate these memories around different tastes and different smells and different moments, and we can spend time cooking together in the kitchen. And to me that seems simple, but it's so much, and I recognize that it is a gift for them." </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then I read an article in the latest Saveur (after Murdo read it and told me he thought I would like it because of how it tied together childhood memories and food, and because there was a reference to the goodness that is slow cooked bone marrow -- he knows me so well) about a woman going through a divorce and finding happiness, if only just for a brief moment, in a favorite dish her mother cooked all day, just for her.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I can't help but hope that my own child will find comfort in the food we make for him. That the smell of garlic sizzling in hot oil will always remind him of home, and that he'll make a special place in his heart for his dad's grilled cheese sandwiches. And when he's feeling sick or sad, a piping hot bowl of chicken tinola would be enough to lift his spirits. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Chicken Tinola</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Filipino chicken tinola is traditionally made with papaya, although I grew up eating it with chayote, a small, mild-flavored green squash that can be found at an Asian produce market. My grocery store didn't have chayote squash on the particular weekend I was craving this dish, so I substituted broccoli, which my mom would often do as well.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>My mom's method involves bone-in chicken parts, and instead of broth, she uses (clean) water reserved from the final (typically third or fourth) rinse of the jasmine rice with which the tinola is served. For convenience sake, I used boneless, skinless chicken thighs and canned chicken broth. I also added a handful of frozen spinach, because when you're growing a little human, you can probably never have enough green vegetables.</i></span><br />
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<i>Also, at my parents' house we typically eat tinola as pictured above, with the broth and goodies poured over a pile of white rice. But you can also pour the broth into a bowl and just a few spoonfuls of rice (or no rice at all) for more of a chicken soup. </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>With all these adaptations to the original recipe, this might not even look like authentic tinola. It certainly didn't look like my mom's. But it tasted like home, and that's all that matters to me.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2 tablespoons canola oil</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3 cloves garlic, smashed and minced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 inch of fresh ginger root, peeled and minced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 small onion, sliced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 lb boneless, skinless chicken thighs, sliced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2 tablespoons fish sauce</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 14-oz can chicken broth</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 cup water</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 big bunch of broccoli, cut into florets (or 3 medium chayote squash, peeled and cut into large pieces)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Handful of fresh or frozen spinach (if frozen, thaw under running water and squeeze dry) - optional</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cooked white or brown rice, for serving</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Heat oil in a pot over medium-high heat. Add garlic, ginger and onion, and cook a few minutes until fragrant and the onions are soft and translucent. Add the chicken and cook a few minutes more, then add the fish sauce. Season with ground black pepper and cook the chicken, stirring and flipping until slightly browned and the juices run clear. Add broth and water. Bring to a boil, then lower heat and add the broccoli. Cook until the broccoli is soft but not mushy, or cooked to your desired texture. (If using chayote, cook until tender when pierced with a fork.) Add the spinach, if using, and heat through until wilted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Serve over rice. Makes about 4 servings.</span></div>
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-39359068802803472882014-09-25T09:03:00.001-05:002015-06-11T08:56:29.255-05:004 Years. With Pork Meatball Banh Mi and a Gender Reveal.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.428571em;">Murdo and I got married four years ago today, on a private lake in Michigan. After we said our vows, we celebrated in a big white tent with 150 of our closest friends and family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Today, where that big white tent once stood, there is a house. A house that Murdo's parents built -- are still building -- into a new Michigan home, where summer weekends in Michigan as we once knew them will change from long days and nights of drinking on the deck, drinking on the boat, drinking around the fire, to early mornings with kiddos running around, barefoot and sticky-faced, ready for a day of swimming and wiffle ball and hot dogs and chasing fireflies and making s'mores. It will take some adjusting, to say the least, but just like we knew four years ago that the step we were taking was so, so right, we know that this next step -- this leap, really -- is right, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the eating-for-two department, I'm happy to report that my taste for vegetables has returned (and with it, Murdo's complaints about the smell of steamed broccoli), I no longer crave the feel of my mouth burning from spice after every bite of food, and I now have enough energy to plan meals, go grocery shopping and cook dinner again. Woohoo! Let's eat pork meatball sandwiches!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Specifically, pork meatball <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B%C3%A1nh_m%C3%AC" target="_blank">banh mi sandwiches</a>. I had my first banh mi sandwich a few years ago, from a Vietnamese restaurant in Wicker Park that no longer exists. Since then, I have been on the hunt for a good banh mi sandwich in the suburbs. I found a place close by that's good but not great. Then I found this recipe that's really good, that I've made twice, the leftovers quickly polished off. The last go around I realized that these meatballs would freeze beautifully (because I foresee the "Freezer Friendly" meal becoming my best friend very soon), and if you're not in the mood for a sandwich, I've found that tossing all the innards with some rice and a healthy squirt of sriracha makes an excellent lunch. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Also: IT'S A BOY.* </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><b>Pork Meatball Bahn Mi Sandwiches </b>(from <a href="http://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/pork-meatball-banh-mi" target="_blank">Bon Appetit</a>)</span></div>
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><i>For me, what makes the banh mi is the combination of flavorful Asian-style meat with the crunchy, quick-pickled vegetables, sprigs of fresh cilantro and creamy, spicy sriracha mayo. I say "Asian-style" meat because I think any kind of salty meat with Asian flavors will work. I've been meaning to try making it with <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2012/05/what-i-know-and-filipino-pork-bbq.html" target="_blank">these pork skewers</a>, and I bet even Korean BBQ would be good (like bulgogi or galbi). </i></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><i>These pork meatballs, though. They took me about an hour to prepare, cook and assemble into sandwiches, which is a little longer than I like to be making dinner on a weeknight, but they're simple and delicious enough that I've added this recipe to the regular rotation. Even better would be making them ahead of time and keeping them in the fridge or freezer until ready to eat. </i></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><b>Sriracha Mayo</b></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">2/3 cup mayonnaise</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 tablespoon sriracha</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Stir together mayo and sriracha, and add more sriracha to your taste. Set aside in the fridge.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><b>Quick Pickled Vegetables</b></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">2 cups carrots, cut into thin matchsticks(I used bagged pre-shredded carrots from Trader Joe's)</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">2 cups radishes, cut into thin matchsticks</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1/4 cup unseasoned rice vinegar</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1/4 cup sugar</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 teaspoon salt</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Combine ingredients in a medium bowl, and let stand at room temperature for an hour, tossing occasionally. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><b>Meatballs</b></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 lb ground pork</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1/4 cup fresh basil, finely chopped</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">4 garlic cloves, smashed and minced</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">3 green onions, finely chopped</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 tablespoon fish sauce</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 tablespoon sriracha</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 tablespoon sugar</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">2 teaspoons cornstarch</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">salt and pepper</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. Using your hands, gently mix all of the ingredients in a bowl. Use a tablespoon to scoop meat, and roll the mixture into about 1-inch meatballs. Arrange on baking sheet. I ended up with about 30 meatballs. If you're not cooking them right away, cover and chill until ready to cook.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><b>Sandwiches</b></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 tablespoon Asian sesame oil</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">1 French baguette, cut into 6-inch long pieces (or however long you want your sandwich to be)</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Thinly sliced jalapeno</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Fresh cilantro sprigs</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Heat the sesame oil in a large skillet or cast iron skillet over medium high heat. In batches (don't overcrowd!), add meatballs and, turning often, saute until brown on all sides and completely cooked through, about 15 minutes. I used a meat thermometer to make sure they were an internal temperature of 160 F. Transfer cooked meatballs to a clean plate and repeat with remaining meatballs, adding more oil to skillet if needed. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Cut each baguette piece horizontally, either completely in half or left with a hinge, whichever you prefer. Pull out enough bread to leave a 1/2-inch thick shell, or to a thickness you want. (Pulling out the bread is a genius move that I just discovered! More room for innards!) </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Spread sriracha mayo on the bread, then fill your sandwich with meatballs (I used 4-5), jalapenos, pickled veggies and cilantro. Add an extra squirt of sriracha for even more kick. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;">Now eat! Baby Boy is hungry! :)</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 22.8571357727051px;"><i>*Because we're impatient, we paid out-of-pocket to find out the sex of the baby at one of those <a href="http://www.peekabelly3d.com/" target="_blank">3D ultrasound places</a> that will tell you baby's sex as early as 15 weeks. So while most expecting parents find out at their 20-week ultrasound at the doctor's office, we found out at 16. As of today, I'm 16 weeks and 6 days, And this little guy just keeps on growing!</i></span></div>
Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-75934747884923946972014-09-09T11:11:00.003-05:002015-06-11T08:56:12.210-05:00The past 14 weeks.<div style="border: 0px; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">School has started, which means Murdo and I wake up around the same time, silently wishing for double sinks in the bathroom as we stumble around slowly, bleary-eyed, through the early mornings. It also means longer commutes, and shorter days, and a constant mess of second graders' drawings and math tests cluttered around our family room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And oh, it means summer is over. How did that happen?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This summer, besides not writing here, I have managed to NOT do the following:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.428571em;">- Pick up another camera besides my iPhone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.428571em;">- Go to the gym.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.428571em;">- Eat the giant cucumbers spilling from our vegetable garden.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.428571em;">- Weekly laundry. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.428571em;">- Cook much of anything besides bacon for BLTs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.428571em;">- Wake up earlier than 10am on a weekend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But but BUT! Before you go thinking that I am a complete sloth, here is a list of my accomplishments in the past three months:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Sunk my toes into a white sand beach in the Dominican Republic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Ate the best grilled lobster of my life, served in the ocean by a man with a tray, a small inflatable raft and a cooler.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Shucked, blanched, stripped, bagged and froze approximately 100 ears of farm fresh sweet corn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Made <a href="http://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/mexican-corn-salad" target="_blank">elotes</a> and <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2009/09/corn-chowder-just-like-that.html" target="_blank">corn chowder</a> with said sweet corn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Long after-dinner walks with Murdo most days of the week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Danced all night long with my closest friends at an epic wedding in Madison.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Painted interior doors. Painted baseboards and trim. Taped, painted, taped, painted....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Tomato and mayo sandwiches. YES.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">- Made a baby.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">OK, that last one can't really be checked off the list quite yet, since Baby isn't due to arrive until early March. But I'm telling myself that the reason for all the items on List 1 is for that last, really big, energy- and appetite-sucking item on List 2.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">You guys, Murdo and I are expecting. I've just begun my second trimester, and while I haven't suffered from any nausea (thank goodness!), I have spent most of my summer feeling very tired, very bloated, very hungry or, on those very special days, all three at the same time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My regular appetite changes on a weekly basis. The first couple weeks, I wanted chicken. Then, cheeseburgers. Lately, spicy foods (yup, it's definitely Murdo's kid in there) -- extra spicy Pad Kee Mao, hot giardiniera straight from the jar, Flaming Hot Cheetos right before bed. Fresh heirloom tomatoes plucked from our little garden, roughly chopped and simmered in butter and salt with several generous shakes of crushed red pepper flakes, tossed with spaghetti and basil. After a brief obsession with beef, my love for vegetables is finally starting to come back. Those poor zucchini and cucumbers from my garden. I've been picking them like crazy, setting them on the kitchen table and ignoring them for weeks. But I did manage to slice, bread and fry a couple of zucchini, and over the weekend, as we prepared food for possibly the last cookout of the season, I shoved a bowl of about 10 cucumbers at my friend Ryan and told him to make something delicious. He delivered a Thai cucumber salad that we served alongside <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2009/04/moms-pancit-recipe.html" target="_blank">pancit</a>, <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2012/05/what-i-know-and-filipino-pork-bbq.html" target="_blank">Filipino BBQ pork skewers</a> and handmade brats we picked up from a <a href="http://kregersbrats.com/" target="_blank">local sausage shop</a>. This past weekend we ate well, and laughed hard, and by the time it was over and I was sweeping up stray blades of grass in the kitchen and Murdo was collecting empty beer glasses in the backyard, I felt incredibly happy and excited to be bringing a child into our little world filled with friends and family and food and love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our child. In the year leading up to this pregnancy, as I was mentally preparing myself for the huge life change we decided to jump into, I imagined myself in a constant state of awe that my body would be <i>making a human</i>. This hasn't really been the case, at least not now in these early months, when my growing belly is mostly due to gas and lack of exercise, and it's easy to let the symptoms take over my brain because right now, the symptoms are all I can feel and see. But sometimes, when I let my mind and my body go very still and quiet, I remember that I'm never alone anymore. That there is a tiny human taking shape just below my belly button, and that I'm carrying this tiny human with me everywhere I go, and even though six months from now this tiny human will be a real, live, slightly bigger and more demanding human no longer in my belly, I will still carry him or her with me wherever I go, every day of my life.</span></div>
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-44830074712368173672014-05-12T16:53:00.000-05:002015-02-03T22:08:07.318-06:00Breakfast Rice Bowls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you scroll through my <a href="http://instagram.com/happyjackeats" target="_blank">Instagram feed</a>, among the photos of cats and feet and plants and selfies, you will find pictures of eggs. Fried eggs, on top of stuff. Because Fried Eggs on Top of Stuff is possibly my favorite meal ever. Wondering what to eat for breakfast? Find those leftovers, mix 'em all together, and put a fried egg on it. Ta-daaa! Time to eat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The "stuff" part of the equation varies depending on what I already have on hand -- toast, ramen, black beans, waffles if I'm feeling ambitious. But the best, hands down, is rice. I've been eating eggs and rice for as long as I can remember, and is quite possibly the reason for my love of runny egg yolk. Nothing sops up that liquid gold like steaming hot rice. Nothing reminds me of breakfast at home, made lovingly by Dad, like eggs and rice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lately I've been making brown rice on Saturday mornings -- the super easy frozen Trader Joe's kind, where you just pop the bag in the microwave for three minutes and it's done -- and keeping it on hand for weekend breakfasts or when I'm on my own for weeknight dinner. This morning, I tossed the rice with leftover steak, mushrooms and green beans from last night's dinner, and topped with -- you guessed it -- a fried egg. I took a quick iPhone pic of my breakfast rice bowl (what I've started calling these things in my head lately) and started shoveling it in my mouth, which now that I think about it, is a very accurate description of how I typically eat eggs and rice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And you guys. It was so good -- enough for me to start thinking, half way through, "I should blog about this. I should take a picture with my camera. How come I never take pictures of these things?" But then I was done eating, because even food bloggers hit a point of no return when so engrossed in a delicious meal that no photo op is going to pull her away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But it was good enough for me to pull out the laptop, even though it's 70 degrees out right now and I had plans to hit the garden center and pull weeds and rearrange my day lilies in the front yard, to write about it. I realize that most of you already know that eggs and rice is a delicious thing, but I thought, maybe some of you don't? Maybe you've seen other recipes and photos but decided to just stick with eggs and toast? I am here to tell you to make this already, and eat it, and to give you some suggestions for what to add (STEAK! STEAK! STEAK!).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Breakfast Rice Bowls*</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>I feel kind of silly writing a recipe for this, since really all it involves is scooping some rice in a bowl, mixing in whatever leftovers you find in your fridge, zapping it in the microwave and topping with a fried egg (or two). That's it! But in case you're unsure of what to add in your bowl, below are some suggestions. As I mentioned above, the steak + mushrooms + green beans combo I had was really, really good. Which reminds me -- I have to tell you about cooking mushrooms (or any veggie, or any </i>food<i>, for that matter) in a cast iron skillet. Stay tuned!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What you need:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">leftover rice </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1-2 eggs, fried to your liking</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Possible additions:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leftover meats - STEAK! Ham, turkey, rotisserie chicken. Sausage. Whatever you used for taco night (ground beef! shredded chicken! carnitas!). Shrimp, salmon. Or hey, I bet you could mix in that sushi you couldn't finish the night before and that'd be good, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Beans - black beans, white beans, chickpeas, edamame.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">AVOCADO - It is a happy morning indeed when I have rice, avocado and eggs all on hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Veggies - The asparagus you grilled with the steak would be perfect. Or any vegetable that you served with dinner the night before. Also - corn, tomatoes, mushrooms, broccoli, green beans, green onions. If I don't have any cooked veggies in the fridge, sometimes I'll quickly saute something in olive oil and set aside. It helps to cut up the veggies in small, bite-size pieces.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hot sauce - I like Sriracha, Valentina or Frank's.</span></div>
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*Can also be eaten for lunch or dinner. :)</div>
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-80596100030516176552014-05-02T17:56:00.001-05:002014-05-02T17:56:21.926-05:00Weekend in Austin #keepleslieweird<div style="border: 0px; line-height: 1.428571em; margin-bottom: 0.714285em; padding: 0px;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We drove through winding dirt roads, 10 of us singing along to the Spice Girls and Ace of Base and TLC, stopping at wineries to enjoy the views of Texas wine country. We bought a couple of bottles at one stop, and Di told the infamous story of Leslie's trip to the emergency room after busting her chin open while doing the Worm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One night ended right back where it began -- at <a data-mce-href="http://themagnoliacafe.com/" href="http://themagnoliacafe.com/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Magnolia Cafe</a>, a 24/7 diner where we had tacos and enchiladas for brunch, and pancakes and eggs for a late-late-night snack.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jLASNATBXFU/U2QgEXEOgtI/AAAAAAAAR-4/iTAfH7RXjBs/s1600/2014-04-25+11.24.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jLASNATBXFU/U2QgEXEOgtI/AAAAAAAAR-4/iTAfH7RXjBs/s1600/2014-04-25+11.24.03.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A dragon, a galaxy, a cat, a country bumpkin, a sloth, two '80s chicks, a flower girl, a cat and a bee celebrated <a data-mce-href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eeyore's_Birthday_Party" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eeyore's_Birthday_Party" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Eeyore's birthday</a> at Pease Park. The dragon was serenaded by a man passing by with a guitar. A human pyramid was formed by the May Pole. The sloth got pulled into a giant drum circle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOh7jNO0l0A/U2QdBbsfJTI/AAAAAAAARsA/p3rLnZWmEpc/s1600/IMG_5683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOh7jNO0l0A/U2QdBbsfJTI/AAAAAAAARsA/p3rLnZWmEpc/s1600/IMG_5683.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mOI2JL3Aesw/U2QdB3NaniI/AAAAAAAARsQ/36bnaC9rkOc/s1600/IMG_5699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mOI2JL3Aesw/U2QdB3NaniI/AAAAAAAARsQ/36bnaC9rkOc/s1600/IMG_5699.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-69PI_tgeDvU/U2QgvLy756I/AAAAAAAASDE/qE0Lk2eqQJk/s1600/2014-04-26+17.23.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-69PI_tgeDvU/U2QgvLy756I/AAAAAAAASDE/qE0Lk2eqQJk/s1600/2014-04-26+17.23.30.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There was beef brisket and spicy collards, Shiner Ruby Redbirds, white cheddar cheesy puffs, sea scallops and quail and risotto, mimosas, cookies, giant turkey legs, wine.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cjNopGl7bmE/U2QdA1fJ1AI/AAAAAAAARsE/QAWPznQHftU/s1600/IMG_5652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cjNopGl7bmE/U2QdA1fJ1AI/AAAAAAAARsE/QAWPznQHftU/s1600/IMG_5652.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5k4nvw8UmqM/U2QdA0A4EnI/AAAAAAAARsI/rSKrwi88f-s/s1600/IMG_5658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5k4nvw8UmqM/U2QdA0A4EnI/AAAAAAAARsI/rSKrwi88f-s/s1600/IMG_5658.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We danced. Then two very determined pedicab drivers pedaled six drunk ladies up one big hill on South Congress Avenue. We passed by a man riding a white horse on the sidewalk, and when we reached the top, sang "Happy <span data-mce-style="text-decoration: line-through;" style="line-height: 1.428571em; text-decoration: line-through;">Birthday</span> Marriage" to a certain curly blonde bride-to-be.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i57jkvc4V70/U2Qc5S3Gl9I/AAAAAAAARrQ/-6KYLbYnGp0/s1600/IMG_5541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i57jkvc4V70/U2Qc5S3Gl9I/AAAAAAAARrQ/-6KYLbYnGp0/s1600/IMG_5541.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j53n-lxQDpA/U2Qc_7Nq2wI/AAAAAAAARsM/4LCU8c--cXs/s1600/IMG_5575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j53n-lxQDpA/U2Qc_7Nq2wI/AAAAAAAARsM/4LCU8c--cXs/s1600/IMG_5575.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">These are the scenes that take place when you get 14 women together, with friendships that span up to 30 years, and put them in a house in Austin, Texas, with an entire weekend to do whatever they want. We celebrated my friend Leslie, who is getting married in August to a man named Jens. Les is the kind of girl who grows kale in her front yard, raises chickens in her backyard, and when asked who her celebrity crush is, responds: <a data-mce-href="http://www.101cookbooks.com/" href="http://www.101cookbooks.com/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Heidi Swanson</a>. She also speaks fluent Spanish, learned how to make authentic paella while living in Spain, and will take your boyfriend to the ER when he breaks his collarbone while walking out of a White Sox game, despite his insistence that he's fine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All this to say, it's good to have a Leslie in your life. Jens is a lucky man.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ze6bbyJRpY8/U2Qc5c6pn4I/AAAAAAAARrM/zxQEj2KEt6Q/s1600/IMG_5553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ze6bbyJRpY8/U2Qc5c6pn4I/AAAAAAAARrM/zxQEj2KEt6Q/s1600/IMG_5553.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://www.austinpost.org/article/legend-keep-austin-weird" href="http://www.austinpost.org/article/legend-keep-austin-weird" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">KEEP LESLIE WEIRD!</span></a></div>
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<strong style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where we stayed:</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Rented a house in <a data-mce-href="https://www.airbnb.com/locations/austin/south-congress" href="https://www.airbnb.com/locations/austin/south-congress" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">South Congress through airbnb</a>.</span></div>
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<strong style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where we ate:</span></strong></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://themagnoliacafe.com/" href="http://themagnoliacafe.com/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Magnolia Cafe</span></a></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://rubysbbq.com/" href="http://rubysbbq.com/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ruby's BBQ</span></a></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://www.bouldincreek.com/" href="http://www.bouldincreek.com/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bouldin Creek Cafe</span></a></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://www.swiftsattic.com/desktop/" href="http://www.swiftsattic.com/desktop/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Swift's Attic</span></a></div>
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<strong style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where we drank:</span></strong></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.driftwoodvineyards.com/" target="_blank">Driftwood Estate Winery</a></span></span></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://www.hawksshadow.com/index.htm" href="http://www.hawksshadow.com/index.htm" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hawk's Shadow Vineyard</span></a></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://www.raineystbars.com/" href="http://www.raineystbars.com/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Rainey Street</span></a></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://www.maggiemaesaustin.com/" href="http://www.maggiemaesaustin.com/" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Maggie Mae's</span></a></div>
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<strong style="line-height: 1.428571em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Other activities:</span></strong></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eeyore's_Birthday_Party" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eeyore's_Birthday_Party" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Eeyore's Birthday Party</span></a></div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://austintexas.gov/department/barton-springs-pool" href="http://austintexas.gov/department/barton-springs-pool" shape="rect" style="border: 0px; color: #047ac6; line-height: 1.428571em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Barton Springs Pool</span></a></div>
Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-92224118146304011292014-03-12T17:31:00.001-05:002014-03-12T17:31:13.593-05:0030.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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I said goodbye to my twenties with a feast<br />
that started off with beer,<br />
fried pickles,<br />
and <a href="http://www.kumascorner.com/" target="_blank">burgers</a>.<br />
Then there were olives,<br />
lamb meatballs,<br />
roasted bone marrow with bacon jam on toast,<br />
seared scallops and foie gras,<br />
fried chicken roulade with biscuits,<br />
lemon meringue pie,<br />
and bourbon.<br />
Lots of bourbon.<br />
Luckily <a href="http://www.longmanandeagle.com/" target="_blank">the restaurant where we ate dinner</a><br />
had a room<br />
upstairs<br />
with a bed,<br />
which is where we passed out<br />
with the TV on,<br />
Friday Night Lights playing on Netflix.<br />
When we got home<br />
the next morning<br />
we had biscuits and gravy and bacon.<br />
<br />
I was hoping to have more to say about 30.<br />
But really<br />
it's the food I can't stop thinking about.<br />
So I figured I'd write it down here<br />
so I wouldn't forget.<br />
Because your memory starts to go<br />
once you're my age.Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-61501081627292568222014-01-31T11:41:00.000-06:002014-03-10T10:55:06.853-05:00Slow cooker sausage and potatoes, and January. Last week, in the check-out line at Trader Joe's, the guy bagging my groceries said casually, "Kind of cold out there, huh?"<br />
<br />
"It's a little bit chilly," I joked.<br />
<br />
"What's your favorite hot beverage?" the cashier asked.<br />
<br />
"Whiskey," I replied. "Warms you from the inside out." We all laughed, and they finished ringing up my order and packaging my items, and I smiled as I wheeled my cart out of the store and into the cold, gray, slushy, frigid parking lot.<br />
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Typically, small talk about the weather is just that -- small talk about the weather. A surface conversation that gets us through those awkward silences. Something to chat about while we wait for the elevator to reach the top floor, or wait for other coworkers to arrive at the meeting, or wait for our groceries to be bagged. But when you're in the Chicagoland area, and it's January 2014, small talk about the weather becomes something much more. It's a small connection that tells the other person, "Hey. This sucks. And we're all fighting through it together."<br />
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Because it's really easy to feel sad and alone and frustrated when you're shoveling snow in the dark, in the freezing wind, and <a href="http://blog.chicagoweathercenter.com/2014/01/30/temps-surge-and-so-do-snow-prospects-thursday-afternoons-1-2-to-be-followed-by-more-substantial-friday-nightsaturday-accumulation/" target="_blank">Tom Skilling keeps telling you that there's no end in sight</a>. When you have to pull on three layers of clothes and heavy-duty boots just to get a few chicken thighs from the garage freezer. And when your 9-5 makes it so that enjoying natural light is only a weekend thing, and only when the sun actually decides to shine.<br />
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Knowing there's an entire city and its surrounding suburbs of people that are feeling exactly the same way makes it not as bad. Don't get me wrong, it's still really bad. But at this point, I'll take what I can get.<br />
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So this arctic chill we're experiencing in my neck of the woods explains why all my photos from January feature dark corners of my home, daily routines, familiar foods like eggs and tacos that keep us chugging along. That's what my January has been about, mostly -- taking one day at a time, and trying to find comfort in everything, even things as simple as humming along to happy music while cooking dinner or joking about the weather with strangers in the check-out line.<br />
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I hope you're staying warm, wherever you are!<br />
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<b>Slow Cooker Sausage and Potatoes</b> (adapted from <a href="http://www.realsimple.com/food-recipes/browse-all-recipes/sausage-kale-stew-00100000110509/index.html" target="_blank">Real Simple</a>)<br />
<i>The original recipe is called a sausage and kale stew, but Murdo's not into kale, so I subbed those greens for green peppers. The spinach you see in that photo is some frozen spinach I heated in the microwave and added to my bowl. I also skipped the mashed potatoes from the original recipe and used small gold potatoes, served whole. </i><br />
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<i>This is my favorite kind of slow cooker recipe, because everything can be prepped the night before and thrown into the slow cooker the next morning.</i><br />
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1 lb Italian sausage links (sweet or spicy), casings removed and broken into large chunks<br />
1 large onion, chopped<br />
1 green bell pepper, sliced<br />
3 cloves garlic, smashed and minced<br />
1 28-oz can of diced tomatoes<br />
2 tablespoons tomato paste<br />
6-8 small Yukon Gold or red potatoes<br />
1 bay leaf<br />
salt and pepper<br />
dried oregano<br />
crushed red pepper flakes<br />
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Combine all of the ingredients in the slow cooker with 1 cup of water (less if you don't want it too thin), making sure to nestle the potatoes as deep as possible so they're not just sitting on the top.<br />
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Cook on low for 8 hours. Serve with cooked spinach or kale.<br />
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-31487779607244554392014-01-19T16:49:00.000-06:002014-01-19T16:49:31.192-06:00Asian-style Ground Beef with Vegetables.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been thinking about this dish for a while, ever since a craving for <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2011/01/how-to-make-lumpia-filipino-eggrolls.html" target="_blank">lumpia</a> hit but I didn't want to go to the trouble of rolling and frying the eggrolls. I wanted to make something that had the flavor and filling of Filipino eggrolls, but also similar to a spicy ground beef dish that Murdo once ordered at a Thai restaurant.<br />
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I'm calling it Asian-style ground beef with veggies. Original name, I know. It's not really Filipino, and it's not really Thai, but it's got the flavors of both cuisines so there you have it.</div>
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I don't know what else to say about this dish except that I made it this morning after breakfast -- I laid out the ingredients on the counter, turned on the Bright Eyes station on Pandora, and cooked just to cook. It wasn't just about getting dinner on the table quickly, which is what cooking has become to me lately. A chore, almost, as much as I hate to admit it. It was nice to be reminded today that it's not always just a chore. That I still find enjoyment in slowing down in the kitchen. Chopping vegetables. The sounds and smells of garlic and onions hitting the hot pan, stirring and tasting and making it up as I go along. A simple meal created from a simple idea.<br />
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And speaking of Asian-style, here are some photos of my nephew, Charlie. He loves trains.<br />
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Have a great week, friends!<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Asian-style Ground Beef with Vegetables</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>I originally wanted to make this with ground pork, but ground beef was all I had. Either will work. Even ground chicken or ground turkey would be fine. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2 tbsp canola oil</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3 garlic cloves, smashed and minced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 tablespoon minced ginger root</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 medium onion, diced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1/2 lb ground beef</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 tbsp fish sauce</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 tbsp sriracha sauce</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 tbsp soy sauce</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2 medium carrots, diced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 celery stalk, diced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2 small heads baby bok choy, sliced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">black pepper</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">cooked brown rice</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Heat canola oil in a skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add garlic, ginger and onion, cook a few minutes until fragrant and translucent. Add ground beef, crumbling with a wooden spoon. Season with black pepper. Brown the beef, then add fish sauce, sriracha, soy sauce. Stir well to combine. Add carrots and celery, cook a few minutes until vegetables are slightly softened. Add bok choy and cook until wilted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Serve over brown rice with more sriracha to taste.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Makes 3-4 servings.</span></div>
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-44384131156552364712014-01-01T18:44:00.001-06:002014-01-01T18:50:34.235-06:00A new year, and cabbage and ginger soup. Happy new year! I know it's been over three months since I've written here, but since it's a new year and all, I'm hoping to be able to just jump back in and start fresh. And I brought soup! A soup that is perfect for if you a) have nothing in your fridge but leftover lasagna and five-day-old appetizers; b) refuse to leave the house because it hasn't stopped snowing since last night; c) are craving something light and healthy because the holidays, aka the Fat Weeks, are finally over; d) had a new year's party last night and don't have the energy to cook anything that requires more than chop, simmer, eat; e) started off 2014 with the chills, a headache and a temperature of 101; or, if you're like me: f) all of the above.<br />
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Lying in bed this morning (OK, this afternoon), all I wanted was my mom and dad's tinola -- a Filipino chicken soup that is loaded with chicken and ginger and green vegetables and tastes like home. But who has the time or energy to thaw out chicken and go to the store when all you want is soup, right now, on the couch, preferably with a cat on your lap and your phone and Kindle an arm's reach away so that there is absolutely no reason for you to get up again, ever.<br />
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Here is what I had in my fridge: carrots, onions, half of a small head of cabbage. There was a good chunk of ginger root in my freezer, which saved me today, no joke, and from now on there shall always be ginger root in my freezer, I promise. I chopped everything up, with a few cloves of garlic, and threw it into a pot with chicken broth. In an attempt to make the soup taste more like something Mom and Dad would make, I added a small splash of fish sauce, which I highly recommend if you have any on hand (my friend Leslie texted me the other day to let me know that according to <a href="http://www.bonappetit.com/columns/the-foodist/slideshow/foodist-trendy-ingredient-predictions-2014/?slide=5" target="_blank">Bon Appetit</a>, 2014 will be inspired by Filipino foods and flavors, so now would be the time to grab a bottle at your local Asian grocery. Get the kind with an image of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Three-Crabs-Brand-Fish-Sauce/dp/B0000CNU54" target="_blank">three crabs</a> on the label.). The fish sauce gives the broth a deeper flavor and the ginger, a feeling of healing power that you just can't overlook.<br />
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I had two bowls of soup today, with plans for more. Now I'm comfortably planted on the couch. The Christmas tree is lit, and a fire crackling. I believe it's still snowing outside, but I can't be sure, and I'm not getting up anytime soon to find out. And even though I started off this new year with a fever, and was inconveniently in the bathroom when midnight struck (I said something like, "I don't want to start 2014 peeing in my pants!" after I poured the last glass of champagne and hustled to the toilet with three minutes left on the clock), I know this year is going to be a good one. I am hopeful and excited and grateful. Here's to another one, friends.<br />
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<b>Cabbage and Ginger Soup</b><br />
<i>Like most of the foods I share here, this is more of a guide than a recipe. Use whatever vegetables you have on hand. Broccoli, bok choy, any kinds of greens will work. I find the ginger here is really key -- especially if you're sick. If you don't have fish sauce or don't want to use it, just add salt, or maybe soy sauce, or nothing at all.</i><br />
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3 cloves garlic, smashed and minced<br />
1/2 small onion, roughly chopped<br />
1 heaping tablespoon ginger, minced<br />
2-3 small carrots, chopped<br />
2-3 tablespoons fish sauce<br />
2 cups of cabbage, shredded<br />
6 cups of chicken broth<br />
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In your favorite soup pot, boil a small amount of the chicken broth, about an inch. Add the garlic, onion, ginger and carrots, cover and let simmer until the vegetables have softened. Add the rest of the chicken broth and the fish sauce, bring to a boil. Add the cabbage and let simmer about 20 minutes, or until the cabbage is softened to your liking. Makes enough for one sick person to eat about 4-6 bowlfuls.Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-86106645820498332432013-09-23T13:23:00.000-05:002013-09-23T13:23:09.702-05:00This week, and an eggplant omelet.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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+ This Wednesday, September 25th, Murdo and I celebrate our three-year <a href="http://www.happyjackeats.com/2010/09/eat-drink-and-be-married.html" target="_blank">wedding</a> anniversary. When special days like these come up, I can't help but stop and look around. I look back at where we came from, and forward to where we're going. And I get very, very excited.<br />
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+ Corduroy jackets, leggings, scarves and boots. Fall has arrived, with its bright blue skies and crisp breeze and apples and pumpkins and falling leaves. I think I fall more and more in love with this season every year.<br />
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+ I was sad to trim down my basil plants over the weekend. I filled a colander with the delicate summer leaves, washed and dried them, then whirred them in the food processor with garlic, oil and parmesan cheese. An ice tray filled with pesto currently sits in my freezer, waiting to be bagged up and enjoyed for the winter.<br />
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+ On Thursday, I leave for New York City. I'm visiting my friend Di, one of my favorite people who I've known since the first grade. We lived together for three years in college, and during the summer of 2004 we spent nearly every waking moment together, mostly eating and drinking and discussing where we were going to eat and drink next. I expect to do a lot of that this weekend.<br />
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+ I'm really excited to have a <a href="http://food52.com/blog/8291-lolo-and-lola-s-tortang-talong" target="_blank">blog post featured over at Food52</a> today, in the Heirloom Recipes column. I shared one of my favorite Filipino dishes, tortang talong (or eggplant omelet), which my mom and dad just taught me how to cook a few weekends ago. I'm so grateful for parents who put up with my bizarre food blogging ways -- my mom, who would pause right before she added anything to the pan and ask, "Can I start cooking this or do you want to take a picture?" And my dad, who ran out to buy more eggplants when I realized I didn't have any "before" photos. They are the reason I love to cook and eat.<br />
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Head over to Food52 for the <a href="http://food52.com/blog/8291-lolo-and-lola-s-tortang-talong" target="_blank">story</a> and <a href="http://food52.com/recipes/23933-tortang-talong-filipino-eggplant-omelet" target="_blank">recipe</a>. Have a great week!Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7378864966200305798.post-182621597037106852013-08-28T22:39:00.000-05:002013-08-28T22:43:30.111-05:00One-pot summer garden pasta, for August.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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August made me very tired. There was a lot of running on the treadmill, and this three-day class I had to take for work that was so in-depth and at times overwhelming, I actually felt dumber by the end. My sister and her family moved to Las Vegas. I attended a bunch of meetings, and made a mistake on our mortgage payment. Laundry. There is so much laundry, always, and it never gets done. The vacuum cleaner is currently standing in the middle of the living room, where it's been since Saturday when I decided to clean and then decided to stop without really finishing.<br />
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But that's enough about that. Let's talk about tomatoes now. Because even after coming home from a long day and feeling kind of crappy, plucking tomatoes from my garden always makes me feel better. Like today, when I drove an hour in the opposite direction of home after work to pick up my just-repaired <a href="http://instagram.com/p/dk1vLzol5f/" target="_blank">Minolta</a>, and drove an hour back in rush hour traffic, and still had to stop at the store for this Labor Day weekend's groceries, and the only thing I wanted to do was go home and eat dinner, it was the tomatoes that brought me from feeling-all-wound-up to feeling-great-about-life.<br />
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Here's what I did when I got home: I went straight for the backyard and picked a handful of fresh basil from the garden. I put a pot of water on the stove to boil. I washed and dried the basil, pulled a zucchini from the fridge, and sliced it into rounds. I grabbed a couple of tomatoes from the counter, picked just a few days ago and getting redder and riper as they sat, and chopped them up so that their juices spilled onto the cutting board and their red flesh practically shined like jewels. Into the pot, a single serving of angel hair pasta. Next, the zucchini rounds. Cooked, drained and slid into a big white bowl. I topped the pasta with the tomatoes and a drizzle of olive oil, a sprinkle of grated parmesan cheese, and a generous handful of roughly chopped basil.<br />
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Easy, one-pot summer garden pasta, guys. I brought it to the backyard to take a few pictures, and then sat down under our tree and ate. And then August wasn't so tiring anymore, but instead, just slow and relaxing. August became this single moment, sitting outside while the warm breeze hit my face, looking out at the garden from which I had just picked my dinner. The tomatoes so worth the wait -- worth this whole never ending month, really.<br />
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And now, I don't want it to end, ever.<br />
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Jacquihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16342077127310264989noreply@blogger.com8