tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1231720706804166512024-02-07T00:46:12.853-08:00figs & feathersMelaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.comBlogger175125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-30341221295096954422012-09-07T09:21:00.001-07:002012-09-07T09:21:02.997-07:00I've Moved!My friends, it is with great pleasure that I announce my change of location! <a href="http://desimckinnon.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The marvelous Desi</a> has built a <a href="http://melanielora.com/" target="_blank">website for me</a> that <a href="http://melanielora.com/figsandfeathers" target="_blank">Figs and Feathers</a> is now linked to. Do visit me there, and when you're on the blog there's a handy red RSS feed button so you'll never miss a post. See you over there!Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-56378764832570825912012-08-20T14:57:00.001-07:002012-08-20T15:29:23.468-07:00ONE<br />
A couple of mornings ago, Luciana woke up at 6:15. I woke up at 6:06 and upon checking the clock, immediately panicked. My daughter has slept past 6am exactly 3 times in the past 6 months, so 6:15 seemed like justifiable cause for alarm.<br />
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Then I remembered: oh yes. Me and worry. We're old friends and even though I've tried to break off our relationship, W has a habit of paying unexpected and intense visits at times I didn't realize I'd left the door open. Should the little miss choose to sleep in again someday, dear God, please help me to lie there and enjoy it.<br />
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So Luciana is one. Coming up on 13 months actually. I'm pretty sure my lag in posting has been because I'm convinced there's a perfect and profound thing I want to say about her being this age. About us both completing a huge year. But here's something else I know about mothering: there isn't the time to try to be perfect anymore. And the deepest insights I have about her and myself happen unplanned: right before I fall asleep. During a quiet moment in the car. While watching her on the playground. My life isn't set up anymore to dedicate long stretches to crafting words about observations, and I've been longing just to get something down.<br />
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My babe is one.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmsPQXvH5uC4PyfcacSvQIjAFG1aBrr3yHRfxcrODFPU-yJtlldDLxn5Ls1P02IAmgv35lR5PKNjDGKkfEANSkQSG44a4mvJzU1nECtM-DYKmpKSbD3YYHc0LOfW1Dpc9pEU2JWjzXN4/s1600/IMG_1059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmsPQXvH5uC4PyfcacSvQIjAFG1aBrr3yHRfxcrODFPU-yJtlldDLxn5Ls1P02IAmgv35lR5PKNjDGKkfEANSkQSG44a4mvJzU1nECtM-DYKmpKSbD3YYHc0LOfW1Dpc9pEU2JWjzXN4/s400/IMG_1059.JPG" width="297" /></a><br />
Some things that are going on: she's walking. Pretty much....Her record is 15 steps, over the weekend she went from usually taking 3 or 4 to usually taking 6 or 8. She lifts her arms over her head and I want to hand her a tiny umbrella and play circus music. It is so so sweet.<br />
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I still nurse her 4x a day, and I have no idea when that will change. Neither one of us seems in a rush.<br />
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The monologues before naps and bed are....I have no word. The most glorious sounds I hear all day. She loves her crib and loves her world in there. If you remember me agonizing about moving her in there you know how major this is for me. She asks to get in when she's tired: we'll be snuggling in the big chair and suddenly she'll sit up and point. I'll ask if she's ready to go see Lambie (our creative name for her lovey which is.....a lamb) and she'll wave her arms and legs--her signature I am Excited that You Understand Me move--and I'll take her over and place her inside. She says Bye Bye to me and begins to coo to Lambie. I leave and spend the next 15 minutes or so listening to her. She sings--I swear the other day it was a tune I sing to her---she makes loud sounds over and over. She rolls around and looks at books and all the time is chattering away to her friends that live in the crib--her cow and her dolls and her rabbit-- that clearly understand everything she says. I honestly marvel every day at the range and the pitch and the openness with which she just lets it all out. I've taken to putting my iphone outside the door and making voice memos of her. I'm going to listen to them before my next audition.<br />
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She eats what she eats and it seems, from a chat we had in our mommy-and-me group, that most kids her age like only a few things. Since she shoves palmfuls of pasta (usually whole-grain at least) in her mouth I've taken to tossing the "nuh nuh" with hempseeds, flax and quinoa along with the cheese and/or yogurt. She likes them as much as the parmesan and butter ones and I sleep easier knowing she's getting food groups other than dairy and carb.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3-OnL54zcQnaK5h6XHSCMTI8I_6cKxaLVzYXI_Mv6y80Ig1zzg7El9Rmpn7P3nyGUSk8fLm3EKnVoOaXoX1dC-GejS_WGh2UQgNv5Gl2W74OEq26Mybj6rlnkW5I8wSA679X0acU-Bg/s1600/IMG_1064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3-OnL54zcQnaK5h6XHSCMTI8I_6cKxaLVzYXI_Mv6y80Ig1zzg7El9Rmpn7P3nyGUSk8fLm3EKnVoOaXoX1dC-GejS_WGh2UQgNv5Gl2W74OEq26Mybj6rlnkW5I8wSA679X0acU-Bg/s400/IMG_1064.JPG" width="400" /></a>At her party (which was bigger than any I've had for myself I think ever) she had one bite of cake and was off to play.<br />
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She has friends that she knows and loves, one of her besties being her cousin<a href="http://lovelymorning.com/" target="_blank"> Dash</a>.<br />
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I'm starting to let her pick her clothes out--offering her a couple choices and she gets to decide.<br />
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And me.....<br />
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A year into being a mom.<br />
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Delia sent me t<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/claire-bidwell-smith/post-partum-_b_1777167.html" target="_blank">his article from the Huffington Post</a> and my whole body exhaled when I read it because the writer says so perfectly the 2 sides that go on being a mom. The bliss, the love that is so crazy and so big, and the incredible challenge that it is--to be a mom, a wife, an artist, a person living in a tech world of emails and tweets and Pinterest. HOW does anybody have time to do pinterest????<br />
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I mean it when I say I love being a mom more than anything I have ever felt, been, done.<br />
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And there are ways I so wish I could do "better" all the time. I know Luciana feels things without me saying them or consciously expressing them. I worry (yes, that friend again) that she'll pick up my habit of rushing through things--of being frenetic when I feel late or behind; that she'll be a grazer like I am rather than enjoying beautiful complete meals; that she senses when my fuse is short and will blame it on herself. I know she knows when I tune out--she looks away. What does she think of my phone which I try not to use but I definitely do?<br />
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Here's what I know 12 1/2 months in: I can't control what she feels and thinks any more than I can control what another adult feels or thinks. And if I was a Perfect Mom she would never see feelings and stress and might feel weird when she had them. So instead of trying not to have those things happen, I'm working on how to I behave when I'm stressed, sad, angry and I'm with her. I know that when I take care of myself by meditating, even for 3 minutes in the morning, I ride the day with so much more grace. And still I stubbornly refuse to do it sometimes, believing I have to check email like a rat pressing a lever. But these days when I feel myself about to blow, I tell her we're taking a Breathing Break. Rather than blowing a fuse, I blow my lips like a horse and she does the same, and we do that til we both start giggling. Or I tell her I'm going into my room for a minute to let some feelings out. I try to get ready to leave way before I or we have to walk out the door so I'm not freaking out looking for my keys. Things like that.<br />
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There are a lot of prayers on the fly.<br />
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I've stopped making to-do lists at the end of the day and am instead reading or journaling or hanging with Sky on the couch. Speaking of my exquisite husband--we are Bringing Sexy Back. It ain't always easy, but we're up for the challenge:). It used to be that my spiritual life and self-care was for me. Then it was for me and my marriage. Now it's for me, for my marriage and for Luciana. I can't be the mother I want to be to her and the partner I want to be to Sky if I don't take tiny steps to keep my own heart open and surrendered. Happy mama equals happy baby equals happy family. If I have time to check email, I have time to spend 5 minutes taking care of myself. For most of this first year, I didn't need it like I'm starting to need it, maybe because I am re-meeting areas of my life that I've let lie dormant for many months. I can't give away what I don't have, so as we all head into our second year together, my promise to all of is I'm bringing some of my practices back. I've been at it for about a week, and it makes a difference when I go to clean the floor for the fourth time that day.</div>
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So yes, there's the feeling of passing the year mark and the game changing. It's more complicated, but it's better than ever. We are so lucky. Our life is so beautiful. Looking back on photos of her at one, three, five days old, what I want to say to my family is I love you. I love you. I love you so deeply, so endlessly, for forever. It goes too fast to stress about dishes and bills. We did it! One turn around the sun. May we be blessed with many many more. </div>
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Now I get asked at least 3 times a week When is Number 2? Not yet, my friends. I will let you know.<br />
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-85319983349235676952012-08-01T13:34:00.000-07:002012-08-01T13:34:00.441-07:00(Baby) Nay, I Say<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm going to tell you all about the birthday. </div>
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When I finish picking up wrapping paper and sit still long enough to take it all in.</div>
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This, however, is something I've been intending to post about for a month! I love that by being a mama I make friends I wouldn't know otherwise. It's through our babies that I met my gorgeous friend Delia, who works with <a href="http://www.nayetal.com/" target="_blank">Baby Nay</a>. If we play word association with Baby Nay's clothes, I get</div>
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<i>feminine</i></div>
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<i>playful</i></div>
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<i>whimsical</i></div>
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<i>soft</i></div>
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<i>cupcakes</i></div>
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The last one, perhaps, because Luciana looks like one in this romper of theirs.</div>
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Then there's the dress. If you go on the Nay site, this one is actually in the <a href="http://www.nayetal.com/la-piccola-danza.php" target="_blank">Piccola Danza</a> line--maybe just a tad fancier than Baby Nay, which a baby girl has to be sometimes. I would have put LC in this for her birthday, but we were playing outside in water and dirt. Not gonna happen.<br />
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Let it be known there are ruffly white bloomers under the dress, which get as much attention as the dress itself. I didn't catch it in Canouan, but if you zoomed in on the neckline of this dress, you'd see little pearls. I can't get enough of how the dress billows around my babe when a wind blows.<br />
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I hadn't heard of Baby Nay before Delia, but now I've seen them everywhere. If you need further proof of their deliciousness, start here, then head to the site and start swooning.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>photo from Nay et al</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-50922741363810071312012-07-25T20:58:00.000-07:002012-07-25T21:26:08.239-07:00A Year AgoA year ago tonight I went into labor. Luciana turns one on Sunday. Every day as I hold her I marvel that this can be so. I get teary a lot because my baby is not, in fact, a tiny baby anymore. She is actually incredibly tall and incredibly stable, and her body is so sure of itself as it moves through space. Her mind is up to things I couldn't fathom being witness to in those early days of her life. I get teary because that's what moms do, I guess, not because I would have her slow the pace of her glorious life for me.<br />
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We're having a party for her on Sunday, and I have a feeling that I'll cry during the Happy Birthday, and probably again that night after we put her to bed and I can take a minute to be still.<br />
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A year ago I wrote this in my journal:<br />
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<i>I feel like my emotional vocabulary is so limited right now. --I don't know how to describe what it is.--I feel, as I walk, like I'm only half-connected to the ground, like I can only half-focus on what's in front of me. There's the presence and the knowledge with every blink, every dish I pick up, every time I sit down to get quiet or rest, that the baby is coming soon. My body is about to do something it's never done before. It knows what to do. It knows what to do, and the baby, my baby, the soul that's chosen now, and chosen me and Sky, knows what to do.</i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">If we didn't know each other a year ago, you can read the story of how Luciana came into the world</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><a href="http://figsandfeathers.blogspot.com/2011/08/tasting-menu-or-how-luciana-was-born.html" target="_blank">here</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">. I didn't know what this year would be, and I certainly didn't know what my labor would be. She was born after 4 days and a wild ride worthy of Mr. Toad. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for the love I feel for this girl and the gift that motherhood is. More on all of that after Sunday.</span></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>photo by my <a href="http://ninalorapr.com/" target="_blank">splendid sister Nina</a></i></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-37521633999941884822012-07-12T07:30:00.000-07:002012-07-12T07:30:00.687-07:00Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We were <a href="http://www.lhw.com/Hotel/Canouan-Resort-at-Carenage-Bay-The-Grenadines-Canouan-Island-St-Vincent-the-Grenadines" target="_blank">here</a> last week. 5 square miles in the Caribbean Ocean and, including us, there were 8 people on the resort. </div>
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Time as a family</div>
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Time individually with Luciana</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOh4a6gSMt99meVqwJaChawQknF0W7SxEWwqvpSNGF-Oh2tzK_OgdOb4mm51UmafMWXyQhNhtr5FS0HlOvwoa44Ho5apnoOn2qCVN73U1-Pp9O2zQum1nLTmJfUTpbv4tsU4H1fJzU8sY/s1600/IMG_4974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOh4a6gSMt99meVqwJaChawQknF0W7SxEWwqvpSNGF-Oh2tzK_OgdOb4mm51UmafMWXyQhNhtr5FS0HlOvwoa44Ho5apnoOn2qCVN73U1-Pp9O2zQum1nLTmJfUTpbv4tsU4H1fJzU8sY/s400/IMG_4974.JPG" width="400" /></a>It was such a happy week--we haven't had that much time together the 3 of us since Luciana was born and Sky was home for 10 days. Sky and I haven't had dinner together for a week straight since the same time. We'd spend all day on the beach, come back to our enormous villa for naps (for which I joined Luciana and which if you know me is completely out of character. I loved every second of mosquito-netting-draped cool-white-sheeted sleep), and after Luciana went to bed we'd hire a babysitter to come watch TV while we rode to dinner in our golf cart. I started reading a novel that's longer and more complicated than <i>Hunger Games</i>. I forgot my phone in LA and didn't long onto email except twice for 5 minutes. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkUmHdMFncj9rCqYfhXjOfoQpPgGRDR76iuAG2zYcMQ73e0exDYmR8oyn6tTeP-QclKl1i85ns4LNGNWfHNsn_yM_Z1p7dzTERVZbLJadgMf5gcLJygHzGndCBRU7AWbbhseUc8skCoHs/s1600/IMG_5603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkUmHdMFncj9rCqYfhXjOfoQpPgGRDR76iuAG2zYcMQ73e0exDYmR8oyn6tTeP-QclKl1i85ns4LNGNWfHNsn_yM_Z1p7dzTERVZbLJadgMf5gcLJygHzGndCBRU7AWbbhseUc8skCoHs/s400/IMG_5603.JPG" width="400" /></a>We're home and Sky's back to working 60-hour weeks and Luciana and I are on the park circuit, but we're all still feeding on last week--feeling really close and despite baby jet lag and some 4am wakings, rested and refreshed. I have spent a lot of <i>time</i> in my life wanting things different: wanting a different career, a different body, a different income, a different house, different talents, WHATEVER. And I've spent a lot of time counting: calories, dollars, credits on actors' resumes that I've been jealous of, minutes I sit in traffic. I didn't want anything different last week, and in thinking about this year with Luciana--and I had a lot of time to think-- I don't want anything different than it's been or how it is. She's coming up on a year this month, and part of me feels that I can't keep playing the card of I Have a New Baby so Therefore I Don't Have to Have My Life Figured Out. However, I don't have it figured out, so for today the card stays in the deck. I don't know why, but sitting under the full moon by our, um, private pool (thanks, upgrades), I made a wish that I stop counting. It's always a sign that I'm scared of something, and I got to remember last week that there is nothing to be scared of. Life is, and always has been, exactly how it's supposed to be.</div>
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-16797368843314590552012-06-26T07:30:00.000-07:002012-06-26T07:30:01.217-07:00Birthday CakeI've been stalling on this one because this recipe is just so dang long to write out! But we're leaving town in less than a week and I can't put this off til we get back. That would be wrong.<br />
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I BAKED recently. It's not something that happens all that often around here because I'm busy making baby food and cleaning up Lake Luciana, ie the dining area floor, after every meal. That takes time, people. But Sky's mom had a birthday not too long ago and she came up to LA to celebrate at our house and I thought the least I could do was make the lady a birthday cake! It was so <i>satisfying</i> to make a birthday cake. It totally justified the cake stand and dome I impulse-bought a month or so ago from <a href="http://www.bountifulhome.com/" target="_blank">Bountiful</a> during their 50% off sale (which seems to still be going on and I do suggest a trip). It was delicious, pretty, and I have a tub of buttercream frosting in the freezer so my work is half done for next time.<br />
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When Sky told me his mom likes old-fashioned desserts, I decided on coconut cake. It's one of those things I've never made, always want to order, and rarely, if ever, eat. I have a copy of the<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Best-Recipe-Cooks-Illustrated-Magazine/dp/0936184744" target="_blank"> New Best Recipe </a>book by Cook's Illustrated and it's one of my go-tos for classic recipes. The recipes are really good, and there are explanations of how they arrived at them which is educational if you want to read. Also equipment and technique tips. I recommend. This one has coconut flavor in the cake, in the frosting, and then coconut is pressed all over it. YUM.<br />
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I'll say before I start that this cake is supposed to be 4 layers. Now, I am no professional baker, but I've done my share and I followed the recipe EXACTLY and have good pans and a great oven. My rounds didn't rise enough to make 4 layers remotely do-able. So mine was 2 layers, and totally delicious. I made the cake the night before and frosted the morning of the bday. Both the cake and the frosting use a lot of egg whites so this is a perfect excuse to make ice cream with the leftover yolks. I will also give the disclaimer that the cream of coconut used in both the cake and the frosting is anything but organic. I think there might be some, um, <i>artificial</i> things in it, and the cake is full of gluten and sugar. And it is f-ing delicious and a crowd pleaser. Not for my baby, however. Yet.<br />
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Coconut Layer Cake</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> from New Best Recipe</i></span></div>
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for the cake:</div>
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2 1/4 c cake flour, sifted, and extra for dusting pans</div>
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1 large egg plus 5 egg whites</div>
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3/4 c cream of coconut *</div>
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1/4 c water</div>
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1 t coconut extract</div>
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1 t vanilla extract</div>
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1 c sugar</div>
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1 T baking powder</div>
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3/4 t salt</div>
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12 T (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened but still cool, cut into 12 pieces</div>
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2 c packed shredded sweetened coconut</div>
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for the buttercream:</div>
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4 large egg whites</div>
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1 c sugar</div>
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pinch salt</div>
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1 lb (4 sticks) unsalted butter, softened but still cool, each piece cut into 6 pieces</div>
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1/4 c cream of coconut</div>
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1 t coconut extract</div>
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1 t vanilla extract</div>
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To bake cake:</div>
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1. Adjust oven rack to lower middle position; preheat to 325. Grease and dust with flour 2 9-in cake pans.</div>
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2. Beat whole egg and egg whites to combine in large liquid measuring cup . Add cream of coconut, water, coconut and vanilla extracts; beat with fork til combined.</div>
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3. Mix flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in bowl of mixer and beat on lowest speed to combine--30 sec or so. With mixer still running at lowest speed, add butter, 1 piece at a time, til mixture like coarse meal and there are no large butter pieces: 2-2 1/2 minutes<br />
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4. With mixer <i>still</i> running, add 1 cup egg mixture to flour and butter mixture. Increase speed to med-high and beat til light and fluffy--45 sec or so. Add remaining liquid in steady slow-ish speed. Stop mixer, scrape batter down sides of bowl, then beat at med-high speed to combine (batter will be thick).<br />
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5. Divide batter between pans and level with rubber spatula. Bake til cakes are deep golden brown, have pulled away from sides of pans, and toothpick inserted in center comes out clean, 30-40 minutes. (Rotate pans from front to back after 20 minutes). Do not turn off oven.<br />
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6. Cool cakes in pans on wire racks for 10 minutes, then loosen from sides with paring knife, invert onto racks and reinvert so tops face up. Cool to room temp.<br />
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7. To toast coconut: while cakes are cooling, spread shredded coconut on rimmed baking sheet, toast in oven til shreds are a mix of golden brown and white, 15-20 min, stirring a couple of times.<br />
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For the frosting:<br />
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1. Combine egg whites, sugar, and salt in mixing bowl; set bowl over a saucepan containing 1 1/2 in of barely simmering water. Whisk constantly til mixture is opaque and warm to the touch and registers 120 degrees on instant read thermometer (which I do not own and was fine without), about 2 minutes. Remove from heat.<br />
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2. Beat whites at high speed in mixer til barely warm (80-ish degrees if you have thermometer), glossy and sticky, about 7 minutes, Reduce speed to med-high and beat in butter, 1 piece at a time. Beat in cream of coconut and coconut and vanilla extracts. Stop mixer, scrape down sides of bowl, then beat again at med-high speed til well combined, about 1 minute.<br />
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To assemble cake: If your cakes got tall enough, split each cake into 2 layers (the book has an illustrated guide as to how to do this well). Otherwise, frost top of one layer, place next layer on top and frost whole cake with a thin layer. Put in fridge to set for 10 minutes, then add as much frosting as you want, spreading and leveling with butter knife (or frosting spatula which, again, I do not have). Sprinkle top of cake with toasted coconut, then press coconut into sides of cake with your hands, letting excess fall onto parchment paper or something. Decorate, light, mount, whatevs and cut and serve when you're ready! You will have lots of frosting left over if you only do 2 layers.<br />
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*Cream of coconut is found in the liquor section of the grocery store and it is highly processed artificial stuff. But it makes this cake awesome. If anyone wants to come over for pina coladas, I have a bunch left in the fridge.</div>
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-90426444837197846582012-06-14T08:00:00.000-07:002012-06-14T08:37:50.287-07:00My StanislavskiHere are a few pics from Taos--we had a gorgeous time, all 4 generations of us. Luciana is now obsessed with dogs (or "dah" as she says whenever we see one) thanks to Sam and Lucy, who she spent lots of floor time with.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kPNnSX2ZHztfESGiCjnp_2LeVFIVQl3inmR0ncXOzxwgqBN_XAzch7-ha-GjpRx39QVj6OpIpMu86QswgR2mjXahjcOyAm4Pb_mwCwhNiOeMpRfOSuUk2D7Hk-Qcv-wZxjTABLYfJS4/s1600/LC+and+dogs+taos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kPNnSX2ZHztfESGiCjnp_2LeVFIVQl3inmR0ncXOzxwgqBN_XAzch7-ha-GjpRx39QVj6OpIpMu86QswgR2mjXahjcOyAm4Pb_mwCwhNiOeMpRfOSuUk2D7Hk-Qcv-wZxjTABLYfJS4/s400/LC+and+dogs+taos.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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The newness of what she does every day continues. Today was stacking the Stacking Cups inside each other. It's been all about Taking Things Out for the last month or more, and now we seem to be shifting to Putting Things In. Her spoon <i>in</i> a cup and now these colored cups <i>inside</i> one another. She'll work at it for over 5 minutes, succeed, immediately pull the cups apart, and spend 5 more minutes trying to do it again. I watched <a href="http://www.janetlansbury.com/2012/05/dont-help-this-baby/" target="_blank">this awesome video</a> on <a href="http://www.janetlansbury.com/" target="_blank">Janet Lansbury's site</a> and I thought of it this morning while Luciana was taking herself on the Stacking Challenge. When she had done it, she didn't want me to applaud or give her a thumbs up, she just wanted to take her work apart and figure it out again. It makes me want to go do work for work's sake because the challenge is so fantastic, not because I'm going to get some reward or someone's approval after.<br />
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So of course she's my teacher in a million ways---we always hear that about kids and it's true true true. Before I became a mama, I imagined that being one would make me a better actor because I'd have lots of practice being present. True. And I'd be less attached because I had something more important to me in my life. True. But her communication is reminding me of something so essential to my acting work--and to communicating in life in general---that didn't occur to me. </div>
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Luciana is really vocal and always has been. When she was a tinier baby I knew generally what she was saying: she was uncomfortable, she was happy, she wanted something. And as she gets older, naturally her sounds expand and because she can make more sounds she can get more specific. Last week Sky remarked that when Luciana makes a sound I know exactly what she wants, down to the specifics of a particular object she wants or a particular way she wants to be held or somewhere she wants to go. It's kind of true. Not always, but often, what she's saying with her voice and body are crystal clear to me. I don't think this is because I'm some kind of mommy psychic. I do pay attention, that's my part, but I've got this theory that the reason I know what Luciana wants is because she knows what she wants, and she is so committed to communicating it that she doesn't need the English language.<br />
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So what she's reminding me about my work is that I have to know exactly what I want and how I feel about that if it's going to mean anything to people on stage with me and to the audience. I can't just arbitrarily decide to get mad for no reason--because I think it will be "exciting" to do or to watch. If what I'm doing doesn't ring true or deep for me, it's not going to ring true or deep for the audience, and then what's the point? We don't get sucked into stories because they're ok; we get sucked in because they resonate with us even if that resonance is outlandish humor-- the humor usually comes from someone wanting something really badly. Luciana, through all the things she says without saying them, is a living breathing crawling standing squawking example of clear intention expressed with whole voice and body. Even with no words I get what matters to her; she gets to me at that level below the words, and wonderful artists do the same. I don't know the next time I'll be auditioning or performing but I hope when I do I don't get lazy, and I bring my pumpkin's wisdom with me. Meanwhile I'm inadvertently memorizing "I am A Bunny" and creating all the voices I can for Boris the Bear, Wesleigh the Elephant, Clare the Cow and their consorts.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhudndGYl0sDtNLaFHWymg2DYYi-E60u1a1WGi75Q5j86v1EhdRxTjT3pxayFqxbIaqHKoNEUP3vaIvI_R2f2_W5ItZX239DFoBs7Z_ds7HOLFAj450kCAgFwToe0nsh0bjVipbH58f76w/s1600/taos-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhudndGYl0sDtNLaFHWymg2DYYi-E60u1a1WGi75Q5j86v1EhdRxTjT3pxayFqxbIaqHKoNEUP3vaIvI_R2f2_W5ItZX239DFoBs7Z_ds7HOLFAj450kCAgFwToe0nsh0bjVipbH58f76w/s400/taos-5.jpg" width="267" /></a><br />
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-6867556740879394142012-06-05T19:27:00.000-07:002012-06-06T08:22:00.945-07:00Next WeekMy friends!<br />
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I'm missing you. Luciana and I are heading to Taos tomorrow and I'm unplugging in a big way. Would you promise to visit me here next week? I've been jotting down notes on a post I'm really excited to write. Have a beautiful week; drink in the long days; may you feel enormous amounts of joy just because you can.<br />
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xx Melanie<br />
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PS: This was Friday at 6pm at our house. Which one of us needs the nap?<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>photo by the illustrious Sky Meltzer</i></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-24424256463633273462012-05-10T07:00:00.000-07:002012-05-10T07:00:04.682-07:00In TimeDear Luciana,<br />
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We were grounded today since my car died two days ago and Daddy and I are sharing his for the moment. It was perfect--we couldn't do any errands or even any outings that require a car, so we took 2 walks, played in the yard both morning and afternoon, had a visit from a wonderful friend, and crawled around the house no less than 15 times. Yes, WE crawled. Not just you. My knees are constantly bruised these days; yours somehow have not a mark.<br />
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I've been wanting to write to you for a good week. As usual time is flying by in the beautiful blur that is being your mama. Each moment is so crystalline while it's happening, but suddenly you're 9 1/2 months almost, it's getting near the end of another week, and time feels so fast when I say that. I sit with you to eat 3 or 4 times a day now. We have breakfast, lunch and dinner, and sometimes we're getting wild and throwing in a snack. (You still nurse a lot: we both seem to like it.) You were feeding yourself a couple of days ago--which suddenly is of much greater interest to you than having me feed you---and I was looking at you, offering you bites from a spoon, in a way that was no big deal--we're getting the hand of this. Then I had one of those moments where time freezes and I said to myself "this is my daughter feeding herself". This girl who 9 months ago spent her days lying on me, her daddy, any one of the people who love her and came to visit her, waved her arms and legs a little but couldn't roll, couldn't go anywhere, couldn't digest <i>food</i>. This is my daughter who gets around the whole house now. Who stands and balances and makes the same sound every time she sees a cat. This is my daughter who looked me straight in the eye a few mornings ago and said "mama". This is my daughter who turns the pages of her own books, who takes everything out of everything, who invites me to play by waving her arms and tells me when she's done eating by pulling on her bib. This is may daughter who I see doing these things every day and it's just who she is until I am stunned, stupefied, speechless when time freezes and I say to myself This is Who She Is. This is who you are. And a month from now, if I write something like this, You Now will be rolled into new skills, sounds, interests, expressions. Your face will look just slightly different. You'll have a little more hair. Certain clothes I love to put you in I will have folded up and stored in the garage because they don't fit you anymore.<br />
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Nothing has marked the passage of time like being your mother. I won't say I want to freeze time. I don't: I don't wish I could freeze you or freeze me or freeze the magnificent adventure of being with you. But I wish I could expand my brain. So that I remember the exact size of your feet when you were born. So I remember the little wave of your hair in the back as it is now. So I remember the way you move your mouth in a silent "ba ba ba ba" when you're concentrating on standing. Because these are clear to me now, but when you're 18 how will I remember it all? And I want to remember it <i>all</i>.<br />
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On our afternoon walk today in the Ergo you fell asleep. I didn't expect it: you were full of energy when we set out. But it was warm and golden out, you had a little hat on that I suppose gave you some privacy and maybe toned down a bit of the stimulation, and all of a sudden, about 10 minutes from home you fell asleep. It was such a treat. I used to walk you three times a day to help you sleep, and though it is wonderful for both of us that you love your crib now, I miss the feeling of you sleeping on me, and getting to hold your little head in my right hand and being quiet: not talking on my phone or needing to do anything other than walk and feel you resting. I walked a bit extra, and then I decided to try something: I went home and climbed onto the big orange chaise in the front yard, keeping you in the Ergo. You didn't stir. And we lay there for about half an hour until you woke up. And I remembered a year ago, when you were due in 2 1/2 months, and the weather started to get warm and the artichoke plant was full and the succulents in the front yard were blooming and I lay on that chaise. I lay on that chaise and felt you, and today, with you resting on my belly and chest and the artichoke full and the succulents blooming, I breathed and felt you. And if you had me close my eyes and placed 2000 babies on my chest and belly I would know you when you got there. I don't know how to explain it, but what I felt last year and what I felt today were exactly the same. You are an unmistakeable presence to me, and wherever you are in the world or in your life, you can always come sleep on me.<br />
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-29651858815611890762012-04-27T07:00:00.000-07:002012-04-27T07:00:02.306-07:00Get CuriousOMG people. I'm taking a detour today from mama musings because I can't not share the adorableness that is <a href="http://www.tinycuriosity.com/">Tiny Curiosity</a>. Created by one of my besties <a href="http://carmenluceno.com/">Carmen</a>'s cousin Julia, it is honestly some of the most darling baby clothes, nursery decor, and little accessories that I've ever seen. Seriously! Don't stop reading if you're not a mom. If you need to shop for a mom, or one day might shop for a mom, bookmark her page now.<br />
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Julia and Carmen came over a couple weeks ago so Luciana could model the Ellie Elephant line<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg5MBApUZmVA8JcUoMrD3kShxc2LoGoLkoInl92qNMYe3GW96S0Q6KBUpVmMM_ZF8SFP5EfM2bnXmJ9qE1kQSCGe5rtGtbVHvaDB_I28rzPNFogIsOXJqbQRzIRKQhoD_cKYTP9LcsHo/s1600/DSC_0251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg5MBApUZmVA8JcUoMrD3kShxc2LoGoLkoInl92qNMYe3GW96S0Q6KBUpVmMM_ZF8SFP5EfM2bnXmJ9qE1kQSCGe5rtGtbVHvaDB_I28rzPNFogIsOXJqbQRzIRKQhoD_cKYTP9LcsHo/s320/DSC_0251.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And while Ellie is pink and grey, making her more suitable to the bambinas, Julia has taken requests to make Ellie green. Or blue. I guess then he becomes Elliott, and the baby boys have loved him.<br />
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I still have no theme to Luciana's nursery, but if you do you could style a whole room around Ellie or her cohort who is a <a href="http://www.tinycuriosity.com/?product_cat=baby-boy-the-littlest-owl">little owl</a>. Look at this mobile and this quilt! (Quilts are how Julia got into this whole thing to begin with. She makes her friends custom ones for their babes. I need to be her friend.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVZ-lTQK9Cz3itJP1gOCv7_5X_pngl87E0qd0pMFfrNcXyp3ghxBX908OQPzJhecGMusoqw5aSorWEF7MA7-9qBTSTJcyq0_D5W3QpMQF55OdeTtYwzUjWzNtRUFroQP-n4rIOgEV-HU/s1600/littlestowlmobile_1-150x150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVZ-lTQK9Cz3itJP1gOCv7_5X_pngl87E0qd0pMFfrNcXyp3ghxBX908OQPzJhecGMusoqw5aSorWEF7MA7-9qBTSTJcyq0_D5W3QpMQF55OdeTtYwzUjWzNtRUFroQP-n4rIOgEV-HU/s1600/littlestowlmobile_1-150x150.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhteDYPhfKnJbXKK0CJF1d7Y_VUyBgOH-McE3KwjvffgYTZCHG74R53fGOORAljG0iqJjOia1nLH-Rblk93G9DEgyzEVJvjTMMyyYHoftKshIrTEzbOxbqODUi_uSVInSxgBjfIF_BPwrI/s1600/littlestowlquilt4-257x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhteDYPhfKnJbXKK0CJF1d7Y_VUyBgOH-McE3KwjvffgYTZCHG74R53fGOORAljG0iqJjOia1nLH-Rblk93G9DEgyzEVJvjTMMyyYHoftKshIrTEzbOxbqODUi_uSVInSxgBjfIF_BPwrI/s1600/littlestowlquilt4-257x300.jpg" /></a></div>
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Once you pick out your quilt, you can order <a href="http://www.tinycuriosity.com/?product=ellie-elephant-fabric-bunting-banner">bunting flag banners to match</a>. Luciana's nursery might be beyond the work-in-progress it continues to be had I found all of this earlier on.<br />
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Lastly, and I am ordering one right now, is this genius toy:<br />
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It's a<a href="http://www.tinycuriosity.com/?product_cat=toys"> crinkle ring</a>. Meaning that all those leafy-looking pieces of fabric have that famous crinkle paper in them that draw babies like bees to flowers, and they're attached to the ring that can be a) a teether and/or b) the perfect new addition to the Shake Shake dance that my baby, for one, does with pretty much everything that makes sound.<br />
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I have a craft crush on Julia, I really do.<br />
<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-15071133008372198232012-04-18T07:00:00.001-07:002012-04-18T07:00:04.635-07:00Am I Still Here....?<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I just put Luciana to bed. Her new favorite thing is to cruise over to the baby monitor which up until now has perched on the edge of her crib. I see her on the monitor see it, head for it, and I'm whispering to her in the hopes of telepathically communicating to her, "Don't do it! Don't do it!" meanwhile cracking up as her eyes glow like baby owl eyes and she gets closer and closer and bigger and bigger and then....crash. It usually lands on the floor; two days ago I had to go in and take it out of her hands where she was happily examining it in the crib.<div><br /></div><div>So tonight I got one step ahead of her and I put the monitor on the floor before I put her in bed, and snuck in after she was asleep to place it where I can see her and occasionally make sure she's still breathing, because, yes, 8 1/2 months in I still do that. Let me pause here and say she is sleeping!!!!! I put her to bed somewhere between 6:30 and 7 and she pretty much goes til 4:30 or 5 in the morning when I nurse her, then she sleeps again til 6:15 or 6:30. Whaaaaaaaaa????? And though it's a slower road, the naps are progressing too. !!!!!!!! Anyway, I snuck in to replace the monitor and she was actually still awake. Barely. Just lying on her side looking or not really looking at whatever her eyes were focused on, and she actually didn't see me. On seeing that she was awake, I got out of her sightline because I didn't want to confuse her, but I don't know if I'll ever forget that look: total sweetness and stillness just before her little eyes closed and she drifted to her special dreamland. I fall more for that girl every day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Which has brought up some confusion about career, ambition, and who I think I am. Let's just say that there are certain parts of my work that haven't happened the way I've always wanted them to happen, and that part of me wants to turn my back on those parts forever and not look back. I love being a mom. I love doing the work that I do get to do. Maybe that's perfect and these other ambitions are old ideas I can let go of. But maybe not. Maybe I've got plenty on my plate and many extra servings of joy and I don't have the time to think about the career dreams the way I did but maybe I do still want them. And if I do still want them, I should probably go after them. But if I don't want to go after them because I love being with my girl then where does that leave me? And so the wheel turns.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's what I know: it's entirely possible I'm hiding out a bit. It's entirely possible that things have changed and I'm letting certain things go. It's entirely possible to have it all if I want it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know I'm not the first to feel this, and every mama has a different story about what happened to her identity after her heart, as that gorgeous quote says, was suddenly living outside her body. I don't know what mine will be---joyfully accepting the letting go or joyfully going for those visions I've had forever more than I've ever gone for them or both. Or later. But I know I want to feel spectacular about it---for my own fulfillment and so that I can model that for my daughter. I guess my job for today is to sit in the unknowing and make sure I'm not thinking about it too much when I'm playing with this one. More will be revealed, as they say.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwR6GL5Tnz12pf-P4KpNEZkODLjuR97-tY3Y3p6GSNRs9LhZi-bl3BoRrgxyPYPJetocRokaT8NrxrDvbdkAw8qXzxjDmO0fhz91g529IUaAVuJyAqCS_409oi2Z2Tp-UMUW0rIUxQ7k/s400/IMG_4096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732580249275842114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvr_9ufkq_tC3_RZQgmIn7ZIlbg1zuE-P4WBzV99F5JfZJoKuc5wc1mTQljd2f1QaET3Frokgw-OMKydxNhLhgStSthPi58wcZQJO9Q3YhUxTFt69wF4eWMoOIbdPCIWv17J93JhKP6iM/s400/IMG_4091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732580242067626114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-pOctSxjqp_Nsoh8MKXB46XsU5qWqXNd-1Wxaoa9J0K0g3aYrbO3GDzlgAIXYkuWPtOmYbyW-K8oFkgJC8n_BYKOu6cgrCfqRnWSNqXjGDgNgGjiDSHp_nyVRrDbZqSJK3hNHwBtO1c/s400/IMG_4059.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732580233408908290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-7775132979421729012012-03-30T07:00:00.001-07:002012-03-30T07:00:13.281-07:008 Months<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hoz-1Ba_w-sAnUEmjaRIEYgIyKGAzYI3OaWDQZp1dcVBE_QK1LE-tHOMUvn-KM7Ah5uiJkSQVFCYQGw3d7b6tjQRjQ1pooYHZ-IWHOUKCWya6yUJq1HyZ2nyw4iyhzCYrSi9hf-HHSM/s1600/IMG_0840.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>Luciana is 8 months today. Or yesterday. I'm writing this on Thursday but it'll post on Friday so....ok. She's 8 months or 8 months and a day. I've been really emotional this week and though it doesn't feel specifically about her having a mini-birthday, I think in some ways it is. I already feel her babyhood passing by quickly which leads me to see in some nonlinear part of my brain her whole childhood passing by quickly. How swiftly our lives together pass. It's this pulling on my heart that is so rich and full it's almost heavy; it's a sweet kind of heartbreak for all these moments she's not going to live again and I won't get to live again with her. I understand in those moments women who have baby after baby after baby: the never wanting to give up the completely new.<div><br /></div><div>I've had some garden-variety mama struggles in myself recently: food, sleep, and what's my role in facilitating both. I was walking with Luciana earlier this week after a morning of beating myself up for basically not being able to control my daughter: she doesn't eat as much as I think she "should" eat. She'd had a hard night of sleep and I was blaming myself. And it hit me with the grace of the sunshine we were walking in: I can't control or manage my daughter's wellbeing. I can't make her eat. I can't make her sleep. I won't be able to make her have this friend and not that one or play this way or that way. My daughter is who she is, and I am here to be a guide and a teacher where she'll let me in, but I cannot have an agenda with her. An agenda? Of course I don't have an <i>agenda. </i>I'm not planning where she should go to college or anything. But every time we sit down at the table and I think she should eat a certain amount, that's an agenda. And she eats on certain days and she doesn't on others. I've stressed over that, especially because she's a lean girl, and I really got this week that stressing over it is not my job. And it's not nice for either her or me. My job is to offer and make is pleasant. And to completely respect her choice in the moment.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I read a great piece about appreciating what your kids can do. Rather than focusing on She's not crawling yet! He hasn't said Mama yet! the article encouraged me to just watch the magical way in which Luciana moves even though, no, she hasn't crawled. She's poised to: she gets up into position and plays with moving an arm forward. She's studied and a little cautious as she lifts her hand up. She hangs there, suspended, and then, as though abandoning her own game completely in an act of rebellion against herself, drops onto her belly and happily and gracefully rolls where she wants to go. And I remember wondering if she would ever roll.....Just to witness her collecting and testing her data is so joyful and so phenomenal. This is the girl who came out of my belly 8 months ago, and now she invites me to play, has her favorite games, converses with me in her big sounds, is strongly opinionated about likes and dislikes. 8 months from now she'll be.....I can't even imagine. I value more than just about anything these times on the floor where she just <i>is:</i> being and doing what she wants and I get to revel in it. </div><div><br /></div><div>So as for struggling with wanting to control food and sleep: I thought, should I go get her weighed? Nah. She eats when she wants to eat. She's happy and full of energy. She keeps growing more hair and I swear her eyes get bluer every day: clearly her body is working. If I'd never heard of percentiles would I be worried? The answer was No. So we skipped the scale, I continue to offer food a few times a day, she drinks <i>a lot</i> of breastmilk, and here we are. As for sleep, we actually started doing a more structured plan with her in terms of night feedings and me not going to her every time she squeaked, and it's been working beautifully (knock wood). I'm starting to get sleep for the first time since she was born. </div><div><br /></div><div><div>I guess if there's one challenge I'm posing to myself for the next month of my hummingbird's life it's What if I Choose Not to Worry About her At All Today? Of course this excludes illness, getting hurt, making sure we're babyproofed. I'm talking about the worry clutter that clouds the purity of being with her. I'm willing to drop that for the next 31 days.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hoz-1Ba_w-sAnUEmjaRIEYgIyKGAzYI3OaWDQZp1dcVBE_QK1LE-tHOMUvn-KM7Ah5uiJkSQVFCYQGw3d7b6tjQRjQ1pooYHZ-IWHOUKCWya6yUJq1HyZ2nyw4iyhzCYrSi9hf-HHSM/s400/IMG_0840.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5725534344917566658" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>I was reminded this week thanks to my mom of Kahlil Gibran's words on children:</div><div><br /></div><div>Your children are not your children.</div><div>They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.</div><div>They come through you but not from you</div><div>And though they are with you they belong not to you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy happy happy 8 months my precious exquisite remarkable girl.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-45485657992184721862012-03-21T07:00:00.000-07:002012-03-21T07:00:00.367-07:00We Love Now....<div style="text-align: left;">A couple of things I am really enjoying with Miss Thing over here:</div><div><br /></div><div>First, <a href="http://www.pumpstation.com/pumpstation/product.asp?dept_id=&pf_id=PAKFICHINCFJKNBG&">the Kissy Kissy long-sleeve onesie</a>. Someone gave me one of these before Luciana was born (I think that person was hedging a bet I was having a girl---the onesie had lace trim and everything) and after one wear I immediately went out and bought more in the 0-3 size, then went to 3-6 mos, now in 6-9 months size. I started with white, now have added pink, and should probably get online and see what other lovely soft colors I can find. I seriously put Luciana in these 4 days a week: they are the perfect layer under a short-sleeved tee or a dress and they're great on their own with a cardigan on top. I feel like an ad saleswoman right now, but they are SO soft and SO lightweight and just so sweet under everything.</div><div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjaNeimSGV7z1Z60a23DNX8aAU2gYaCAbFmbxB7WytPLgqa7wEGbZHAzLJ5BSQ4j4KkpVS_GRwr0vqUtU_FN5lx9NwdNC2zRMpkoewQeZVvzESf2USE3pxulh80MqL5SQnT_lYpQKA7E/s400/IMG_3633.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722197427782870610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></div></div><div>This photo was when she was a YOUNG baby. She's such a seasoned one now....</div><div><br /></div><div>If you don't know about <a href="http://www.indestructiblesinc.com/">these books,</a> you need to. Like their name implies, they are indestructible. Luciana is a fan of eating paper these days, which means books with paper pages are pretty much out. And while we love board books, they can't be played with in quite the same way--as in bent, folded, flapped, crumpled. Another thing I like about them is that they don't have words--at least the 2 we have don't. So we get to make up our own stories or talk about the colors or read it backwards if we want to. I highly highly recommend and they travel brilliantly as well.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBLVzs1nnULeP6OogxiuCTQWqtTsA6c6CkseDI8kjmY7cI87kYf9zDZ5zdzMBzwiRaX8sYTYN4fvDrPtxljfpYckUGhdzWrvwn79LhB2q31UQBeEXkCqLXwoG3qsFQz3pVjubonjjaI4/s400/IMG_3978.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722209694041071362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>As for mama, I'm pretty much living in the soft long sleeve tees I got from Target recently layered over their stripey tank tops. I felt pretty good about myself when I had three people ask me in a day where I'd gotten my shirt. When Target is good, it's so good. I dream of updating my wardrobe---it's been a long time, my friends, but that would require taking time to go shopping. Which I haven't figured out yet.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-17735383261159465882012-03-15T07:00:00.000-07:002012-03-15T07:00:06.115-07:00Weekend for Three<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>As I said we were, we went away last weekend.<div><br /></div><div>It was....so lovely.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sky and I had amazing time with Luciana together---that was most of the weekend and that was <i>wonderful</i>. She looked back and forth to us with what seemed like big delight and a bit of fascination---we were really light on the family playtime the last couple of months. But we also each had great one-on-one time with her--I get lots of that but Sky doesn't and man, does that girl love her daddy. And he and I had a little time with each other. That's the beauty of the travel crib: baby goes to sleep in the bathroom, where it's really quiet and really dark. Never mind that Mom and Dad had to go outside to the patio and pee in the bushes. No joke.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was some amazingly warm weather and Luciana got to put her feet in the ocean for the first time.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MTWQ6Nw27d_oM9AobilpxhVT7RZMLnJm_xGCRjuoRjU_94SZOzzF2vzR6MiluPbyKWcXxeveokZFhyPJCbHE7aV9FqWHGIJIi2NakgjGyNj6SNmlFrRgVOlQLFnYfjgt9RzWerJtqFc/s400/IMG_3845.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719954123497804162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>She spent lots of time playing in the grass.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKo8UMTeY08JMs_1Zgu59X_gWI-4yJqFBNwytEqazIRuJ78hDkcvALyYe1TTyiv4Gd8hqBY7F4nGVucbjXGVS2-hMuJL1tRrXdA83gOUVht_ykIIuODlbBmRUzz7akjavbhtUafXxphE/s400/IMG_0834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719954728076007090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDPnH0R01b3dS9ejG87od_RpbDH-c0bSiA-o4n2rVYMrvf_3FJX9ZpB2BBAoyM767PNhzbb9rcmlF7uPsY4H5VJTfr3CeGNIZgR5zxrKFMv5EMoP7bYFQIUNMU9CQdN3cInyPWHEaheg/s400/IMG_0819.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719954718464576754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2tRAu6zq8AY-8yTMY70QiqGnynLY9j_P8cczNsdXkfvViDXeKvQGt-IfPp2NK2gPWaAEXYSbePVlqkoAEeCBz9a_jIcWmiLzCVT095csXhUc8K5nl6a2gWi8QkLRa81cfLwz6_s5b-s/s400/IMG_0815.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719954132801325698" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqUXEd3LaX0w2zT6YUbn69anBC007fv6HFrZrxOqaDI_yFujJYyPxNP5rJB8EMQv5RwMWno300hLb7wr-7cwkNyfakcpX1_GCiCNOvlctP9TqadXtKN2LfE-TwZfogVHdzr9GCdNfwtM/s400/IMG_0814.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719954129456302114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>And oh yes--where we stayed! I didn't get many photos but suffice to say the <a href="http://www.fourseasons.com/santabarbara/">Four Seasons in Montecito</a> is as good as we hoped it would be. I have wanted to stay there for years, and at low season with a stay 2 nights, get the 3rd free promotion plus "Incidentals" credit, it was manageable. A splurge, but a manageable splurge, especially given that a nursing mama can't drink many of their delicious cocktails. When you stay there you have access to the Coral Casino, a swanky beach club across the street with a crazy good swimming pool. I do want to return there in July with a big sun hat and a copy of <i>The Great Gatsby</i>. But then it will be high season, so I think I'll have to wait.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELAVFiqEnEFSrMEO7BcFY8mCkOMgykMXN2crRcEPVKts9pJ1e-FWE9X7dpapOYcjVbaz2fzQRyfQ3KdRP5ELwQTRxuguHye6cQHYIlLCXIbNnEDSApaAAjWN_Wz0kKq8c3hOSyq9a-lQ/s400/IMG_0820.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719954725797534242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>And that's OK, because as wonderful as they are, life is not about hotels. It's about having time to kiss your beloveds on the nose. Sometimes nice hotels are facilitators for that since there are no kitchens to clean. But the point is to find time for this stuff daily. I'm happy to say that we have.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH07IqnefOgDvzObqbAsTTfEUbNMz5c9eOlHEXd9Mrf7xkh3SeemGS32vSLcYsY7cCJT-RU8lNCE7AvkuSMLo7f0k03BywmBY0sPTuOFi7lDCuhZXboH989CbW56VPf9r1u3uLBBA6izs/s400/IMG_3796.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719954113776804786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-42719575165879023342012-03-07T07:00:00.001-08:002012-03-07T07:00:11.047-08:00Off We Go<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div>We're going away this weekend. Just the 2 of you, everyone asks? Mais non. I just got my fulltime mom life back--I'm not giving my baby up for a night. However, while this is a family trip, Sky and I are super excited about this weekend for us as a couple. Can we talk for a few about marriage, relationship, baby, work, how to make it all fit into a life?<div><br /></div><div>Everyone said, and we prepared ourselves for it, that having a babe is intense on a relationship. And sure, that's true. We have been rightly obsessed with our child. As much as we promise not to talk about schedules and feeding and what's next in her development on those few dates that we have, we of course end up talking about how much we love her which leads to talking about schedules and sleep and childcare and all of it. And Luciana doesn't sleep through the night yet (the sleep topic is a separate post and one I can't wait to talk about) and when I was working she ended up in our bed most nights because 1)she went to sleep so much faster and mama needed every wink she could get and 2) we love it. WE LOVE IT. There is nothing sweeter than waking up next to her little face. And we know this isn't something we want to do forever, and in fact the time is coming really soon where it won't be happening much at all, and yes, some could argue we're putting hard-to-break habits in place, but I'll say it again: we love it and she loves it and it's just what we've chosen to do during this time. All that to say that our time as a couple has been extremely extremely limited--even our time as co-parents. We had one day off together in January and February. </div><div><br /></div><div>So everyone said this would happen, and we were onboard til I'd say the end of February when it just started to hurt both of us how little we were seeing each other. This is more a function of both of us working really hard for those two months than anything. I see now that if I was working full time all the time and wanting to be with our daughter as much as I do, it would take some serious discipline and scheduling to find time for each other. We didn't do much of that because we knew it was finite: my work had a definitive end date and Luciana's wellbeing came first, so it was 1)Luciana 2)our jobs 3)ourselves 4)time for each other. Would gurus tell us to put ourselves first, relationship second, baby third and job fourth? Probably. And I am here to tell you that all the knowledge of what you SHOULD do is lovely; then the moment comes and you make your decisions. I am so proud of us as a family over the last bit of time. And the only way we could have done it is, again, that we knew it was temporary (til Mama does another play). </div><div><br /></div><div>But I miss Sky. A lot. And he misses me. A whole lot. What I've noticed about myself, too, is that when suddenly we're fending for ourselves, it's easy to fall into patterns that maybe aren't so great. For me, when I'm busy and have a lot going on I can get distant. And a little critical. And hung up on the little things. I've always been that way. It gets harder and harder for me to open up---I get used to being on my own, or in this case on my own or with Luciana, but where I haven't been is intimately talking with and connecting with my husband. So in that first moment that we have to be quiet together, I don't jump with readiness; it takes me a bit to come out of my shell. That resistance to intimacy is something I've worked on a lot, but that doesn't mean it's gone entirely. Sky and I know that for both of us it's so important that we don't go long stretches without connecting because it's not always fun clawing our way back to togetherness. We went a really long stretch. And I've been a little withdrawn. We both know it and it's OK but it's not where we're our best. Obviously. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sky and I are not alone or unusual in that getting away makes getting back in sync with each other a lot simpler. He's not sucked into work and I'm not sucked into laundry and cleaning the garage. But I can't just show up in Santa Barbara and assume that's the only missing piece. There's that commitment to connecting that I know is vital. It is my full and 100% intention this weekend to be present and open to my husband and our relationship, and also to the experience of parenting together. Maybe we can talk more about our hearts and less about how much Luciana is eating. Maybe we can daydream instead of remind ourselves we need to hire a CPA. Maybe, in the midst of being more grown-up than we've ever been with our travel crib and baby spoons and nap schedule and super-moderate alcohol intake, we can have a few days where we play like kids and channel the carefree versions of ourselves. We have this gorgeous ball of light called our daughter to remind us how life is not about the logistics, though wow, do we act like it is sometimes. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9E5MXFDcbUEEt12X1vkPYNEfpj4_Ha_ja5BBuc2vowP45ul5biwqSMe35bk5k-IydUerGY1_k6PR1n4I7vT9Vy4y8NveiVceOjAjOjtVo1X490-Jlc8zZS0P6i8aSIBu4m9-Wfowk8lM/s400/47921183504940840_sopZTTMj_f-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716991962045279938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 274px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><i>us, figuratively anyway</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><i>from <a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/216313588322148024/">here</a></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-44287851009664429152012-03-01T21:00:00.001-08:002012-03-02T18:35:29.877-08:00The Post I Forgot to Title<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsDIVjzcYCk6DM2Sfi42Zf_YthIKWlqjRoGJ9vFdPU4yIQNw2dm88EKYgBBmzraepfzRoS-BBsoTzSDjCDqg2dWXF-f3Ws0qpFnTwtqZ5xSrG0Qdx2L4TmXW9EglJgZ2SJEgEBZq8SUQ/s1600/IMG_0797.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>I meant it when I said I have 14 posts in my head. Now that I'm sitting here it's boggling trying to decide what to write. The past 2 months were really big--wonderful and so challenging and all new. The short version is I never felt I made the wrong decision in deciding to work for a couple of months, and the play went BEAUTIFULLY and Luciana is incredible. Right alongside that I'll say there were days I just didn't know how I was going to get through. <div><br /></div><div>Some of what I learned is this:</div><div><br /></div><div>I really can trust how much my baby loves me. It's not to be underestimated, the potential of those little hearts to hold huge love. </div><div><br /></div><div>It doesn't matter how tired I am if I can get present: when I get present there is enough energy, whether that's to do a show or play with my girl or soothe her in the middle of the night. It's when I start worrying that I won't have enough energy that I'm screwed. </div><div><br /></div><div>It really helps to remember what I have no power over: her mood, traffic, my own feelings to name a few. When I accept what is I can do my best to find a response that makes me proud.</div><div><br /></div><div>I still suck at napping and building rest into my days. Pretending I'm Superwoman seems to be a favorite pasttime.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ok my internet just went down for a good while during which I made some killer chocolate chip cookies for a shower on Saturday. Now it's bedtime which I need to keep because Luciana is teething and has a little virus and is up about every half hour--that's a record in this household. We may be in for a long night so this mama is getting into bed. See you soon.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsDIVjzcYCk6DM2Sfi42Zf_YthIKWlqjRoGJ9vFdPU4yIQNw2dm88EKYgBBmzraepfzRoS-BBsoTzSDjCDqg2dWXF-f3Ws0qpFnTwtqZ5xSrG0Qdx2L4TmXW9EglJgZ2SJEgEBZq8SUQ/s400/IMG_0797.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715166334500425650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Hello, crown chakra:)</div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-12664072439635751352012-02-28T07:00:00.000-08:002012-02-28T07:00:02.492-08:00Almost Back<div>The play closed yesterday. I have about 14 posts for you in my head. I've missed being here. Coming back really soon--shooting for this week. Meanwhile, look who turns 7 months tomorrow:</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfWUUkRY4U9Lt7JEhZ2jwnzMTcBh4kXcGdQSVfuX7RLD8JBz7PQdi-4YEThU9qcWTVdcxpyK2fOnxBTkgW6BUJJZoIAq1klfHHWkz2iY0pkCJiefjZOOU2WdD7LgvkJM1hiM5vSYmYdM/s1600/IMG_0802.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfWUUkRY4U9Lt7JEhZ2jwnzMTcBh4kXcGdQSVfuX7RLD8JBz7PQdi-4YEThU9qcWTVdcxpyK2fOnxBTkgW6BUJJZoIAq1klfHHWkz2iY0pkCJiefjZOOU2WdD7LgvkJM1hiM5vSYmYdM/s400/IMG_0802.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714019414035152098" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXB825b_T28BuGlzFlP01bMp2C5RF3eZxLPrWtCsp1EWduw65peIaSbMK44gHUbYE7wphOJa6kn_RZFbBDKxiN1XFN03uzdn_iARVSH9FFC0QkFIXX08Tw88VAs4cpovfkTMBGYA9qtW4/s1600/IMG_0800.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXB825b_T28BuGlzFlP01bMp2C5RF3eZxLPrWtCsp1EWduw65peIaSbMK44gHUbYE7wphOJa6kn_RZFbBDKxiN1XFN03uzdn_iARVSH9FFC0QkFIXX08Tw88VAs4cpovfkTMBGYA9qtW4/s400/IMG_0800.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714019413833254386" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfDj_VBboB8Eh4qpjdkc6tevZo-9dBFY8k6L8Ad-1OdsiiLu2EjEYCBqjdTx2vpZimhHy_O9ofCGiC4EhyIg883g4IYl8Rrs_R_29_Dsp6Y5edHl5cR5TzDEbCiF2osU7qhr_mNXI3Ww/s1600/IMG_0801.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfDj_VBboB8Eh4qpjdkc6tevZo-9dBFY8k6L8Ad-1OdsiiLu2EjEYCBqjdTx2vpZimhHy_O9ofCGiC4EhyIg883g4IYl8Rrs_R_29_Dsp6Y5edHl5cR5TzDEbCiF2osU7qhr_mNXI3Ww/s400/IMG_0801.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714019411994093506" /></a>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-40687920821890756312012-01-11T07:10:00.000-08:002012-01-11T07:33:11.941-08:00Working Girls<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>So I've been working.<div><br /></div><div>Before I jump into that I'll catch you up on the last few weeks: Luciana has 2 teeth and is sitting up. And while she can sit, her favorite position seems to be any sort of backbend she can get herself into, which often results in her looking rather like an infant Cleopatra, draped dramatically across my legs. A girl after my own heart (although let's be honest, the girl owns my heart). </div><div><br /></div><div>And we are adjusting to a whole new kind of day: Mommy at rehearsal for 6 hours 6 days a week kind of day.</div><div><br /></div><div>What happened: I auditioned for a <a href="http://scr.org/calendar/view.aspx?id=4256">wonderful play </a>and got cast. Then I cried. And cried. And cried. And almost said No. Left to my own devices, that might have been my answer. But that's what angels, in all their incarnations, are for. I spoke to the woman who leads my Mamas' Group. I spoke to friends who'd gone back to work. I spoke to my husband. I spoke to people at the theatre. And I asked for the willingness to trust my gut despite the horror stories my head wanted to tell me about how hard this was going to be and how my relationship with my daughter would be wrecked. I imagined how powerful it would be for both Luciana and me for me to create an incredible balance of mothering and doing work I love. After being reassured by everyone on the list above that Luciana would be great, and after getting really quiet with myself and discovering that my answer was leaning Yes, though that was the harder answer to give, I accepted. And while I have all but disappeared from my life outside this house and the theatre, I can tell you it was the right decision. </div><div><br /></div><div>What I will say about it a week into rehearsals:</div><div>The first 2 days were SO HARD. She was crying, I was crying. And this is not even with me leaving her all day--we've worked it out so she's at the theatre with me. But just going those 6 hours without more than 15 minutes at a time with her, and worrying that she was going to suffer being away from home all that time made it a very very very tough first couple days.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since then, and we had Day 7 today, she is THRIVING. We have all morning together, then she comes with me, I see her and feed her on breaks, and the rest of the time she's with either my mom or the phenomenal babysitter we hired. When I do see her she is laughing and babbling, and after we drive home and I cuddle her and put her to bed, she sleeps beautifully --not tormented, this one. As one of my best friends said to me, Luciana's world is getting bigger. She's having the chance to form deep relationships with other people, as well as learning that Mommy ALWAYS comes back. </div><div><br /></div><div>And as for me, I get to see that this is harder on me than on her: Luciana really is doing beautifully, and I can tell just by how she is that she's not "holding anything against me" or feeling less close to me or having baby stress because she's not in her house all day. My head can get into those fears, but if I check in with my daughter they're just not true. So I'm working on letting them go, and I'm diving into the huge gift this project it. It's my old life meeting my new life. I've never done a play as a mom. I am still figuring out where I work on the script outside of rehearsals, because every moment I'm not working I want to be with my girl. I've pretty much forfeited exercise except for walking with her for the month of rehearsals--I don't want to take the morning time away from her to go get on a spin bike. I've had a couple spells during rehearsal where I am SO TIRED I'm not sure I'll be able to get my lines out in English, and then I do, and I get inspired by what's going on around me, and then I get hit with these moments where I realize I'm living the dream. And I am profoundly grateful to everyone who contributed to this experience being possible.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what is my point with all this...</div><div><br /></div><div>The decision to work or not work as a mama, or when to work as a mama---that is, if you don't have to, which lots of people do-- is SUCH A PERSONAL ONE. If you'd told me I'd be doing a show in January I'd have bet our house you were wrong. I just didn't think I'd be ready, she'd be ready, and in fact after I initially auditioned for this one I decided I wasn't ready. I cancelled another audition and planned on taking myself out of the game for a few more months. Then things happened and here we are. Some fears beyond the ones I already mentioned were people judging me as selfish since I don't HAVE to go back to work yet, me somehow damaging the incredible closeness I feel to Luciana, my life feeling totally out of control, sucking in the play because my responsibilities as a mom are so big.....those are a few. NONE of these fears (except for people judging me and I can't know if that's happening or not, so I've chosen not to care) are being played out. I am having a gorgeous time, and I'm able to because Luciana is having a gorgeous time. I love working in my field, and I know that after this I get to be home again for a while. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some things that are really working for me to anchor our relationship:</div><div><br /></div><div>making sure we have time every morning where we just PLAY. Not get dressed, not pack the toy bag for the day, just play together.</div><div>telling her every morning that we'll be going down to the theatre, that I'll be working, that I'll see her on breaks, that I'll be thinking of her constantly, and on breaks talking to her as well. I know she understands me on some level.</div><div>When we get home in the evening, thanking her for being so willing to go on this adventure. And holding her really really close for a really really long time.</div><div><br /></div><div>I told myself as I was preparing for this process starting that this was Luciana's and my chance to write a beautiful story about this time. We get to tell the tale of mama going to work doing something she loves, and everyone living happily ever after. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoPRvxCVs6y4ZB3_z1k1DK4d5P3ZxE_umvklOYnQvFJG7sRnfFeWRIINH4o1KzSsytM4eRHvQ13PzE6Fx70RGg2CfMpRHWbvEvsn4FslY9k_mXrTxwzVMTkKv9_OOh0lvTzR_W8TwwH2c/s400/IMG_3244.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696249967534787538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVlNagpd2s4k6YZmhOEPt_l5eTtuXNrtek8cP_D9gFkCXRuJNP-Gd8LgIFllySY-bBEGZIzJllZT-Sinc-r2UTcuSWksQ76eAXpP75AfGicloDloDt2jmNVs89cbHooGT6uO-pXdnvuv4/s400/IMG_3630.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696249948850355570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZj7PHW5IVsUpRE_B0oHjM6_w1UhHAqC8h4KyUnfOky3eJqLd51lZIIxS55AxevKQLa7EmZ-36U9ybva64d0WDfC86ccUeH_PF5IuhyphenhyphenC7lZ4ZlPoGGMQ56HnAAnxx9LiKS8e2l5RTCh90/s400/IMG_3615.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696249943594166738" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7girvV-hjLsn3FiBpqiOEjnbs-qvIgpOb13mcfHL4QMSNJKsIdZPcicRjEokeJcFyfJ4zpCBl4R5aN7H-8ke0IVGKEUTfWeEDm9Dps-x4yUfmodoAJMEOH7sBSmONQnGwlwSzJOSvrjo/s400/IMG_3600.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696249936386017234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-80792903073674018802011-12-21T07:30:00.000-08:002011-12-21T07:30:02.639-08:00It's Upon UsIt's just that time of year. That wonderful crazy sometimes overwhelming time of year. An acting teacher I had in college said something once which I never forgot. He said, "You do the things that are important to you." Meaning there's really no such thing as I Don't Have Time or I Just Couldn't; there's only I Chose To Make Time for Something Else. So I won't say I haven't had time to blog, I'll just say I have not been making time for the computer. I have been making time for Luciana (who has her first tooth poking through! And she's celebrating by waking up every hour from 1-5am), for a little holiday shopping and cooking, for "Dexter" once a week, though never on Sunday nights and I haven't watched the season finale yet so don't tell me what happens, and for, gulp, getting ready to go back to work for a couple of months. I'm doing a play in January/February for which I'm really excited; I'll tell you all about it as well as my process in deciding I could do it, which was, I think, the hardest decision I've just about ever made. <div><br /></div><div>But for now I want to wish you a truly beautiful holiday full of all the stuff a good holiday should be full of. A year ago we weren't even telling anyone other than family and closest friends about Luciana, who was a mysterious embryo--what a year it's been!</div><div><br /></div><div>I also want to give you a super-easy and very delicious salad which you can bring to any and all holiday potlucks or family dinners. It's so delicious, in fact, and I have so much faith in you being able to tell that when you read it that there is no picture. I am obsessed with fennel, by the way, and this has only intensified my current addiction.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Fennel Salad</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">in theory 4 servings, but more like 2 in our house</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><i>lightly adapted from The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">2 fennel bulbs</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">2T lemon juice</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">grated zest of 1/4 lemon</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">1 t white wine or champagne vinegar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">salt and pepper</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">3 T EVO</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">1 t chopped fennel tops</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">any or all of these optional add-ins:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">parmesan cheese curls</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">1 1/2 T chopped green olives</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">2T chopped Italian parsely</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">celery and/or radishes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Trim tops and root ends from fennel bulbs; save a few feathery leaves for garnish; pull off and get rid of any discolored or dried outer leaves.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Make dressing by stirring together lemon juice, zest, vinegar, salt and pepper then whisk in the olive oil. Taste and adjust as necessary. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Use a mandoline or a very very very sharp knife to shave or thinly slice fennel crosswise. Toss with dressing, adjust seasoning, and garnish with the fennel tops.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Add any or all of those add-ins up there. I'm a big fan of the parmesan/parsley combo myself.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-62698620327586845612011-12-09T07:30:00.000-08:002011-12-09T07:30:00.925-08:00Reminded<div style="text-align: left;">Sky and I went to a wedding of a dear friend last weekend. Luciana came with us to the ceremony as that part was at 2 in the afternoon, and she got to wear her first party dress, which was courtesy of a wonderful friend in the fashion world of New York.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgieC25PwhW5PwIyhrpYmJ_laoUIX0nkppBFwWObDerSpdlyE04nYdgEHZ_1F2mahHlYEsr8RW9f7THmASHJuSYpdeyd-KTZcg5zegJpNU-IW-vtQxAQrVhUg8rPppLLsPSqdmcMyI13iA/s400/IMG_3142.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683965586371287154" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000ee;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbVgaCOGeJ3dQz1UiFo8Mav1m_l1MgTiBGPWI6OEkoL-BOcigXtPwMON-lPknpyuwi_4imtS9uqvgi0t6d_JP04HjJ7qvS8PeMWCc89lEluR-4ORYIiESuz25qh2MF6QevZUNQ6_ORRw/s400/IMG_3163.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683965589492053058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>It ended up being a really powerful experience for us--being at a wedding reminded us of...US. Of why we're together and what we believe in as a couple and how being in love is such a phenomenal thing. In some ways we're close than ever, but since Luciana has been born there have been certain areas that have gone on the back burner. Make that the burner in the neglected storage closet in the abandoned garage.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since that day we've promised each other to connect for 5 minutes (minimum) in the morning and 5 minutes at night in a way that's just for us. Not talking about scheduling or even how much we love the baby. Just being us. So many people told us to make sure we keep the romance alive, and we never thought for a second we'd need to work at it. But here we are, low on sleep, high on obsession with our daughter, and both of us juggling a lot. It's easy to put off the daily maintenance of intimacy. Someone said to me, and at the time I thought "yeah yeah I know" but here I am living it: that intimacy needs maintenance and work just like an in-shape body needs maintenance and work, just like a beautiful garden needs maintenance and work, just like a concert pianist's scales need maintenance and work. It feels really good and really right to be giving our attention to us again. I know we'll only have a happier family for it.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaJsXqAc5eCC8dexpmHazvYja7FEcoZPs8qCYZ_Ioxy-rfwnxQARM2CoDUsmJY17bBB4bBqXgI6E4upEcC0-cdn-9H6UVUzXUbrMIrBtFDP2iqnd0eSYH8hZ6fvSG2Y85jQ5lT2dB0Jc/s400/L1010929.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683968325753376306" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">us not long after we were engaged. I still have that puffy jacket...</span></i></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-27937710443513039822011-12-06T08:00:00.000-08:002011-12-06T08:00:06.931-08:00What She Is.....Somewhere in Luciana's first weeks of life I started talking to her about her Little Body and Big Soul. I think it first came out when I was comforting her---it struck me, and still strikes me daily--- how much feeling and spirit is in her currently 14-lb, 26-inch physical body. Every day it seemed we'd talk about this, and I thought it would make a really cute t-shirt. I also know I am amazingly incredibly inept when it comes to the visual arts: my stick figures don't pass the third grade level. While I can probably write in paint better than create images in paint, I accept my limitations, which I think is a strength, and I did want a shirt that looked like someone older than her made it. So knowing that I had a) a lack of talent in the paint department b)no fabric paint or plain onesie on hand c)no desire to make a trip to the craft store for said supplies, I went to land of all things delightful and handmade: <a href="http://www.etsy.com/">Etsy</a>, where I found <a href="http://www.etsy.com/people/littledewdrops?ref=pr_profile">Little Dewdrops</a>. I felt when I looked at her other shirts that she'd get why I wanted one that said this for my daughter. I pitched her my design, she said Yes, and Luciana's first custom shirt was born. I also had one made for one of my favorite 3-yr-olds. <div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLHNt1nAx7uPeZnWy_k7BTIjTVH9tcWtZur7q8bCXOid1Qts22beIMUW3adrn4AAAjrmFstW272naSaZCrEOujqpgC5lBveDzN2yESdyZJ2Ewqow67Ve-TuOtWKeeai1dKMZeLrSlwFo/s1600/IMG_3109.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLHNt1nAx7uPeZnWy_k7BTIjTVH9tcWtZur7q8bCXOid1Qts22beIMUW3adrn4AAAjrmFstW272naSaZCrEOujqpgC5lBveDzN2yESdyZJ2Ewqow67Ve-TuOtWKeeai1dKMZeLrSlwFo/s400/IMG_3109.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682851107354065586" /></a>I think she knows I'm talking about her. </div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-17259062588214988862011-11-30T07:20:00.000-08:002011-11-30T07:20:00.731-08:00First Thanksgiving and Four Months<div style="text-align: left;">Hope you all have had a beautiful couple of weeks!</div><div><br /></div><div>We spent Thanksgiving in Taos with my dad, stepmom, grandmother, 2 sisters, and brother-in-law. 'Twas a merry crew. </div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mmJAZ7H8v96MD3oiao8Xv23M3LYrghL_Ow0Fvo1byB-sBLNQyx_2V1jzzRnOwvjCj6yhKsT7Pd2TTwivtwZfQuIyEQFyLHXuZZ6004t8mkc_9NvI-xbKo6RafVdb9YlxTftx3P4YN-w/s1600/IMG_3055.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680611752828019906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span><div>Luciana's adventures included meeting her great-grandmother (who doesn't want pics of herself online), seeing her first snow</div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-Z_YevGKLdv5Tq7zq1i_45AgtjV68-cJcJ2iIZ6KrCrBGOE7EA1KovXK9Dz4a-6Qb8HEoqo9wlzJ5RuheyvKHRgKYwTWGky5bvAJE29LMu7K8O2mCPoialhG0mFOEKM-ROVfvsDNzNs/s1600/IMG_3011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680612594921266994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span><div><br /></div><div>wearing her first mittens (thanks, Karianne!)</div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPwmZLL4ipbbwke5QhSrglVCUsiuNctOSBtzn_OqJ7TL0mBsgq-n3iEoE2BwfI92onRUBXRvp6xdoBnRh88K9P_yI0pig7wJ2V3_JXdeXdW-LXBfzlYGIpl6_vCVq091BX32qK1CPyOOs/s1600/IMG_3088.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680612590623039634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span><div>and helping Mama catch up on sleep</div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_oAp6HIw5fDDDQ7dDUJzEa0VjUtapQl4kaPChOoQsqnjYzwgB6Q4VHYRm_TkntyRUVMBbzetLbyI9SqvSfhQKSgd99uVLpK2KRwXnT6VKvrSoVtKkAMPN9s3UvpvlfqH2xpJvOrMNC4M/s1600/IMG_0770.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680611747817494130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span><div><br /></div><div>The altitude affected my little hummingbird, and let's just say the sleeping that happened was not really happening at night. Luckily we were there to completely relax, so sleep or no sleep it was wonderful. And the most profound Thanksgiving ever: I've never been given a gift as marvelous as my girl.</div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of sleep, that is one of so many changes happening as Luciana turns FOUR MONTHS. She's following the pattern of her forbearers, and suddenly resisting napping, waking up more at night, and generally so thrilled with the world that she tries to see in all directions at once--she's never fit her Owl nickname more. I suppose she's taking the giant Cognitive Leap they take at this age. There's a wonderful quote by another mom: "every two weeks they give me a different baby". We're going through that. It's not easy, because suddenly I have nothing figured out, but I get to remind myself that she's not the first baby to go through this and I'm not the first mama to feel baffled, amazed, and proud all at once.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim4Mi-VMMx0sSa-WrGrRiicPagH4SDjtgURyTgMk5nnDqPMNIMEs4SEmrZEFPbFKSutpDEcTh4H8TpMN_s5BfuBEEpTY4Nky7XAuebyueq_6NXgpAYPrTPDVFGVXq6hc7x1b1NBTx8TSo/s400/IMG_3121.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680624439968776706" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>She rolled over a couple of weeks ago, but hasn't done it for about ten days. Her efforts, however, are astonishing and getting more and more animated. I think she spent a total of about 3 hours today trying to do it. Her attempts even included grasping a pillow and pulling on it for leverage. She's already an engineer. I have a feeling that when she does it next she'll have mastered it--those first times she couldn't quite figure out what happened. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRBVwxXsdyZub9sR4yygniW8X_HkiQlvUmz1_8ivrvfuqcfRgJW-BHJekN_f1Nxih1MAVtqQmXsBzsR-5RP_CnBrhMKAW8DHjMeVIL0r_Gvvi11Q5JqgRVoYA0FqVM20fVPqL3AQCeB0/s400/IMG_0764.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680624444648398162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Her narration has grown from what I interpreted as sentences and short paragraphs to full on novellas. Once she starts, the girl does not stop talking. And the tone she uses as she's telling me she doesn't want to nap is distinctly different from the one used to describe the colors in her favorite painting hanging in the living room which is totally different from the one she uses when I'm doing dishes and she wants me to play with her in the swing. I wish I used as much of my range as she does when she speaks--switching easily from guttural mutterings to operatic squeals. We spend a lot of time just looking at each other, and when she gets still and those big eyes stare back at me I'm speechless at the openness, the peace and the love I see in those pools of blue. She's becoming.....a person. Her person. It's astonishing. It's crazy. It's gorgeous. I say thank you every day.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGiC0IV_YFyuYeSNq9xFpTSpnStZsf7jU4YPzkrIH1vH0RT6aCEf_R2HRDzkzbpTn5d28ICsaAZ4K121be_rHKW9JrvlGdbEimp4uHeM6X_5gOgiMtOrAVcGB5fGJCisuEhDaAy8b1WS8/s1600/IMG_3132.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGiC0IV_YFyuYeSNq9xFpTSpnStZsf7jU4YPzkrIH1vH0RT6aCEf_R2HRDzkzbpTn5d28ICsaAZ4K121be_rHKW9JrvlGdbEimp4uHeM6X_5gOgiMtOrAVcGB5fGJCisuEhDaAy8b1WS8/s400/IMG_3132.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680611746693962738" /></a><br /></div></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-67153669605132101812011-11-16T10:02:00.001-08:002011-11-16T10:44:08.825-08:00Pear Bread<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span">My first solid food was a <a href="http://www.harryanddavid.com/gifts/store/home___">Harry and David</a> pear. It was Christmas, I was 5 months old, and apparently I just went for it. It was another month before my mom officially started me on rice cereal, et al, but it seems I've had a thing for pears since the get go. They always say Holidays to me, since growing up my great-aunt Jennie would send us a box of Harry and Davids. It was a special occasion just to eat one---m</span>y dad would watch them like a chicken watches her eggs for the moment they were perfectly ripe. When one was ready, <span class="Apple-style-span">we'd unwrap it from its gold foil or white tissue and there would be a moment of silence when we ate it. I can't eat a pear now without a flash of Thanksgiving and Christmas as a little girl flashing into my head. One could have worse associations.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div>This week I somehow found myself with several pears almost past the point of ripeness. Don't know how it happened--I guess I overbought. I needed a recipe that wasn't fussy, as I'd be making it on an afternoon it was just Luciana and me. I headed over to <a href="http://punchfork.com/">Punchfork</a>, typed in Pears, and found this recipe from <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/">Smitten Kitchen</a> (whose <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2011/11/baked-pumpkin-and-sour-cream-puddings/">pumpkin pudding</a> that's up right now is heading to the top of my recipe queue). What I liked about it: I had all the ingredients on hand. It's easy. It gets better after a few days. Very important when one needs a reason not to eat a whole loaf on day 1. She wrote that day 1 was actually not the bread's best day. It was day 2, day 3, day 4 where it really shone. And I have to say she's right. I made it Sunday, it's now Wednesday, and today it's the best it's been. The top is moister, the crumb more dense, the flavors more integrated. If it makes it til tomorrow I can't wait to see what it does. I should also tell you that I made this with Luciana strapped into her carrier, facing out, and she loved it. Her first cake!</div><div><br /></div><div>If a pear needs to be eaten in any form other than it's raw natural one, this isn't a bad place for it to go. 2 more things working in its favor: kids love it--at least my friends Kate and Kenny's 17-month-old son did, and you can make it gluten-free. I'm not, as I've said, strictly GF, but I go that direction when I can. I went there with this, and I will again. K, enough chatter. Here's what to do</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Pear Bread, or Luciana Tries Baking and Likes It</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>from Smitten Kitchen</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-style: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHIRkVtlWJ_RdJSjTouhD3nDwIrHek-A5aUtlDy1w1N5dx-RbQKcFDg7Wjb-R03lhrNe6iTcHufz_YOWL60A0I0SdqQd6Kn9iKdYEPs34NkMx1GW5kb5qXGmFlnjZOIPTU7xTU2jKfmw/s400/IMG_2978.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675661434345828674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-style: normal; "><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">3 c all-purpose flour or gluten free flour mix (I use Bob's Red Mill)</div><div style="text-align: center;">1 t baking soda</div><div style="text-align: center;">1/4 t baking powder</div><div style="text-align: center;">1 t salt</div><div style="text-align: center;">1 T ground cinnamon (it's very cinnamony--yum)</div><div style="text-align: center;">1 c chopped walnuts (optional--I didn't use them)</div><div style="text-align: center;">3/4 c butter, very soft, or 3/4 c vegetable oil</div><div style="text-align: center;">3 eggs, lightly beaten</div><div style="text-align: center;">2 c sugar</div><div style="text-align: center;">2-4 ripe pears</div><div style="text-align: center;">2 t vanilla extract</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Preheat oven to 350. Lightly grease and flour 2 9x5 loaf pans or a 10-in tube pan.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Combine flour, baking soda and powder, salt and cinnamon in large bowl; mix well with a fork. If using nuts, scoop out 1/4 c flour mixture and combine it in a small bowl with the nuts, coating nuts with flour.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Peel and core pears, and grate them. (if you, like me, end up with a few big bits of pear as you grate, use them too--they make for yummy extra pear-y bites). Should make about 2c grated. </div><div style="text-align: left;">*avoid grating the pears in advance so they don't turn brown!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In medium bowl, combine butter or oil, eggs, sugar, grated pear, nuts if using, and vanilla; stir to mix everything well. (I actually melted the butter a little so it would mix better. You could use an electric mixer too). Scrape the pear mixture into the flour mixture and stir just til flour disappears and batter is evenly moistened. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">(Pause while I have a bite of pear bread right now)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Quickly scrape the batter into prepared pan(s) and bake at 350 for 60-70 minutes or til bread is "handsomely browned" (love that), firm on top, and a wooden skewer comes out clean. (Good time to put baby down for a nap and clean up the kitchen)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Cool bread in pan on wire rack or folded kitchen towel for 10 minutes. Then turn out onto plate or wire rack to cool completely, top side up. Serve as is, sprinkled with confectioners sugar, or drizzle with a glaze made from whisking 3T buttermilk, dash of vanilla and 2 c confectioners sugar together (I bet that's good). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Happy start to the Holidays!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-18022517637393611842011-11-11T07:41:00.000-08:002011-11-11T07:52:14.305-08:00New AgeQuickly, my friends:<div><br /></div><div>Today, 11.11.11 marks the beginning of the Age of Aquarius. Moving away from a self-centered age (Piscean) and into one focussed on community and elevating the experience of being human. Much more about coming from the heart. It's been a long time coming. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm actually going to take time this morning to meditate, which means GET OFF MY COMPUTER NOW, but it really is a magical day, and if you want more exposure to some of the thinking around it, <a href="http://goldenbridgeyoga.com/">Golden Bridge</a> is broadcasting one of their workshops today from 10:30-1:30 PST. I'll be tuning in to the parts that I can, Luciana's naps determining.</div><div><br /></div><div>Love to you all, and hope you have your <i>Hair</i> soundtrack out today. If you've never listened to <i>Hair</i> you have no idea what I mean, but there's a thematically appropriate song in there. If you want something to rock to in the car:)</div><div><br /></div><div>xoxoxoxo</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123172070680416651.post-32574382216385291022011-11-03T08:50:00.000-07:002011-11-03T09:26:39.273-07:003 Months<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07sSgyDio786hnsLU-tlck7vSFi7SjR6rkABCeJtFby0xWdctHWPuxYIs2CtCRx5jqPWiqV1CFWGcxCKY8PaeGCFM1Tv6wavN43HvYBAt97p1ZHT3gSSH0vurhx8wPdowZ3LK_nBrovY/s1600/IMG_0729.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>Luciana turned 3 months last Saturday. I'm more smitten than ever.<div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwmtpKSnNBeLFjbrlOgwQr1IT5M0-sSVL9iiMol43AFn7Re15pubgZNBfShZfpJKXu9t92tcGxOyNE6hfUcIsaNmMUJD4hbhB0X6q6_SEKtycSx2s94m1_z30UpIHX-qX-Z4OFSHEUnUU/s1600/IMG_2815.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwmtpKSnNBeLFjbrlOgwQr1IT5M0-sSVL9iiMol43AFn7Re15pubgZNBfShZfpJKXu9t92tcGxOyNE6hfUcIsaNmMUJD4hbhB0X6q6_SEKtycSx2s94m1_z30UpIHX-qX-Z4OFSHEUnUU/s400/IMG_2815.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670805364023111906" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf6Tcp33JqGvw5DbPSjpTrKobKKUkrEqWD6V9q2H9Gnvxm6oVJ8sf-Zd6Yy1kIoiYXVyOJuLETCmiqvXIXUMJv-Rio73G2QdxAabotIOEbFDL1swq2HIaIKtJ1C6LVSUmNY5_HY9eQhoY/s1600/IMG_2815.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div>And it's true what They say about the transition that happens at 3 months. She's been an incredibly alert baby since she came out, and she's only becoming more so. The transitions they talked about, though, didn't include the challenge that happened last night, which is that in her attempts to roll over, her fixation on rolling over--she tries to practice even when sitting in her swing---kept her, and therefore me, up all night. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've felt so lucky to have a baby that sleeps well. Last night she was a different creature: at first up every hour and a half, and then by 3am it was every 45 minutes. Nothing was wrong, she'd fall right back asleep after cuddling or eating for a few minutes, but finally at about 4:30 I saw what was happening: she was trying to roll and getting frustrated and stuck in her swaddle blanket. Then she'd bust out of the swaddle and freak herself out with all her limbs going everywhere. I brought her into bed then (she sleeps in a co-sleeper which I love and totally recommend), kept her pretty much unswaddled next to me, she rolled onto her side and we both slept til 645. I actually woke up a couple times in there because I was so shocked she was actually sleeping in this new way. Like a big girl.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wasn't the best sport about the waking up in the night. Yesterday was one of those can't-see-6-inches-in-front-of-my-face-I'm-so-tired days. I went to bed at 9 and was so counting on those hours til 1230 or 1 when she would wake up for the first time. There was, according to Sky, some stomping around the house (I had to get water), and dramatic throwing of the light switch when I went to the bathroom. I can be a real brat when tired. Then this morning, though, when Luciana was all smiles and so happy to play by herself for the 20 minutes I needed to help Sky get out of the house, make tea, wipe off the counter, what They say is also true: the babies are worth every second of discomfort we feel as parents.</div><div><br /></div><div>As she wakes up more, responds to more stimuli (she loves flying on our knees, she loves singing, she loves grabbing everything but mostly things attached to a human like fingers and hair), a whole new set of feelings come up around Being Enough. Am I fun enough? interesting enough? smart enough? creative enough? for this burgeoning brain? Will she associate me with housecleaning rather than playtime? Does she think I come and go because sometimes I play with her and sometimes I let her be? Does she love her grandma more? Am I modeling ungraceful eating habits because lunch happens when I'm on the floor with her if it happens at all? All of this is totally heightened on the tired days, which even if you have the best sleeper in the universe, as a new parent, they're going to happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what I say to myself this morning, and to any new parents or parents to be if you want to hear, is YES we're enough and none of that stuff above matters when it happens now and then. Not in the long term. I have to remember to think big-picture. "It's not what they eat in a day, it's what they eat in a week" one of my best friends said to me before I had Luciana. And that goes for everything. If I have a day or two or three where I don't feel inspired at playtime; if I have to eat all my meals on the floor for 2 weeks; if I have a morning where I actually do have to work and it's a little less focussed on her, it's really OK. I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir, but I find that even if I know something I sometimes have to hear it over and over and over again on the days my mind wants to attack me. Not a day goes by that Luciana doesn't get cuddled, kissed, sung to, introduced to something new, even if it's a leaf on a different plant on our block. Not a day goes by that she doesn't hear that I love her, daddy loves her, her grandma loves her, and God (because we do talk about that) loves her. The woman who leads my mom group (I told you I'd keep referencing it) reminded me that it's not our job to give our babies a stress-free life; it's our job to help them deal with and respond to stress in a healthy way. So that little fussy cry when I've been working 5 minutes too much for her is OK. She's going to get a huge hug and see that she's OK when I stop working to be with her, and the next day I don't have to work at all.</div><div><br /></div><div>Just now, before I wrote this, I put her down for a nap. Based on last night I didn't completely swaddle her: left one arm out as I've read this is the way to start transitioning them out of a swaddle. At first it failed. I left the room, she started to cry; I went back in and she was flailing about. So I pulled the exercise ball (I don't know how parents survived without these) up to the co-sleeper and I held her hand. Put my other hand on her chest and rocked her a little. She startled herself a couple of times when the free arm moved in space, but I found if I let her keep hold of my finger with her fingers and held her hand with my palm, she didn't wake herself up. I've been trying to get back into my meditation practice which I find incredibly challenging to make the time for, so I took advantage of being still and silent with her. I rested my head on the bar of the co-sleeper, closed my eyes, and let my mind open and rest for a few minutes. Then I gently released her hand, rested her arm up in an angle by her ear like you see babies do in pictures (grown-ups learn from pictures too!) and she's still out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Progress. One day at a time.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07sSgyDio786hnsLU-tlck7vSFi7SjR6rkABCeJtFby0xWdctHWPuxYIs2CtCRx5jqPWiqV1CFWGcxCKY8PaeGCFM1Tv6wavN43HvYBAt97p1ZHT3gSSH0vurhx8wPdowZ3LK_nBrovY/s400/IMG_0729.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670806524686738290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01253265611167037707noreply@blogger.com7