Favorite part of an afternoon with Overprotective Mom

Me: "So, can your baby walk yet?"

She looks at me like I'm a little nuts and says: "Oh, of course she can walk!"

Me (not out loud): :\ You act like I'm supposed to know that. You have been here for THREE HOURS and she hasn't been allowed off your lap no matter how much she struggles and points at the other toddlers playing nearby...

She later explains: "I don't want her to get messy."

This was at a backyard barbecue at a friend's very-safe-for-little-ones house. It's called a hose-down in the sink and a change of clothes, folks. And believe it or not, this was not her first kid.

-___-
#nationofwimps

Merry F-ing Christmas!

Can anyone just wish anyone else a Merry Christmas anymore without spitting those words at me as if they are some sort of threat?

Yes, 'is the season when everyone is smiling and happy and wishing everyone merriment ... except for my Christian friends who say "merry Christmas" with a visiousness that immediately implies that they threw down a challenge and are daring me to not say it back. Sheesh, Merry Christmas already! and happy holidays and whatever else makes anyone happy.

My bible-thumpy friends have been blogging about what assholes (those who say "happy holidays" and call Christmas trees "Holiday trees") we are. Makes me never want to use the word "Christmas" again. December 25th is ONE DAY -- and not even the correct date.

I celebrate everything. Christmas, Hannukah, Festivus, New Year's and Ninja Day. There is a lot going on this time of year. So, at home I may talk about Christmas and the memories it brings to me of Mom and Grandparents and excitement waiting for Santa, but when I'm out and about I know there are lots of people who don't celebrate that particular holiday. Or, like me, they celebrate it without the religious aspects. Or it's full-on Jesus mania for others. Great! Enjoy it! But don't get mad at me for saying "Happy Holidays" just to be polite.  I know you won't be offended if I wish you the merriment of a holiday you don't celebrate. But I'm covering my bases. 

So why so angry? Nothing is happening to your holidays. If anything, they are bigger than ever. Each year getting more overstuffed and bloated. Starting before Halloween now. Yet you want more, more? Who is suppressing whom? Certainly not me. I'm offering a friendly greeting, and being scolded for it.

So next time you're out and about and want to say "Merry Christmas" to me, just say it. And leave off the "and I don't care if that offends you!" part because that snotty attitude takes the sincerity out of your greeting. You might be surprised at how much more friendly people will be when they reply. Might even end in a hug.

Happy holidays. Peace and love to ALL!! :) xoxo

Ratatouille's Ratatouille

This was so much easier to make than I expected! It was a lot of fun to put together and was delicious! This is a more simplified version of the original recipe (for people who didn’t study with the French masters). Look up “Confit Byaldi, Thomas Keller” online if you want the original recipe.

In the movie they used an oval baking dish; I used a 9” glass pie dish (before the tomato sauce is in the dish, you might want to trace your parchment paper which will top the vegetables; you probably want it a little larger than the dish so it can tuck in around the edges a bit).

On the bottom of the dish, spread 1 cup of tomato purée or tomato paste (I’ve also used canned prepared diced tomatoes). Then, on top of that, add 1/2 onion, finely chopped and 2 garlic cloves, very thinly sliced. Stir it all together with 1 tbsp olive oil and then season generously with salt and pepper (and thyme/parsley; optional). Then spread it out evenly again. Put a little up the sides of the dish, too, as it will keep the vegetables from sticking to the dish.

Using a mandolin or, even faster, a food processor with a slicing blade, cut the following into 1/16-inch-thick rounds after trimming off the ends: 1 small eggplant (if you can get “Italian” or “Japanese” eggplant that would be a better size. I couldn’t find that, so I used a regular eggplant cut into quarters the long way, and only ended up using about 1 quarter. You can see in the picture that they end up like triangles, but put the rounded skin-side on top and it’s hardly noticeable); 1 smallish zucchini; 1 smallish yellow squash (the closer to a uniform cucumber shape, the better, but maybe get a couple of small squash if they're cheap, so that you have more of the larger rounds to use); 4 firm Roma tomatoes. So now you have four separate colorful piles of veggies. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

On top of the tomato sauce, arrange a circular strip of slices of the vegetables going from the outer edge to the inside of the baking dish, overlapping so just a smidgen of each flat surface is visible, alternating vegetables.

My order was: zucchini (green), tomato (red), eggplant (green), squash (yellow). If you can get some help, this will go quickly. Think ‘assembly line’. I’d put 4-5 piles together in my hand at once, then gather the piles and lay them in the dish.

Drizzle 1 tbsp olive oil over the vegetables and season them generously with salt and pepper. Remove the leaves from a few thyme springs with your fingertips, running them down the stem. Sprinkle the fresh thyme over the dish.


Cover dish with a piece of parchment paper cut to fit/tuck inside.

Bake for approximately 45 to 55 minutes, until vegetables are clearly cooked, but with some structure left so they are not totally limp. And you should see that the tomato sauce is bubbling up around them.

We served this on top of a helping of rice — make sure the rice gets some of that tomato sauce!

Rock 'n' Roll Etiquette

It has been a beautiful week in Colorado. So we were lucky to get some perfect weather for the outside concert we went to at Hudson Gardens last night. Performing for us was a U2 tribute band, and they were really good. Okay, so they aren't the real U2 (who performed in Denver a week earlier) — but we looked at the ticket prices, and it was insane! Who can afford concerts anymore? When I was younger you could go see a top artist for $20 or so, and the sooner you called the ticket sellers, the closer you got to the stage. Ah, life was simple. So I guess it's good that now that I am an old fart, my favorite artists are playing state fairs and small venues like this :)

I would like to take a moment, though, to remind people how to behave at concerts. Okay, that sounds ridiculous — and is — but I have a few pet peeves about concertgoers that I want to vent: First of all, please leave the iPods, iPhones and other gadgets at home (or in your pocket, for emergencies only). How rude is it for the poor performers to look out and see a bunch of bowed heads staring at their video screens? Ugh. Second, when a great song comes up and some people stand up to dance: get your fat-ass out of your seat and stand up with them! Dance!! Don't make people feel bad for blocking your view at a rock concert. It's not the symphony, folks! Like Roger Daltrey says: chairs are there to stand on! :) And third: if you're NOT going to dance, you don't get to sit there picking on the people who are dancing badly, but dancing nonetheless. You're the one who looks like the boring, too-cool-for-school dumbass, not them. It's true! This last one is because there was a middle-aged guy just letting lose, shaking with the music, doing punching moves, etc. Very cute and funny. We enjoyed him. But the teenage girls in front of us just rolled their eyes and laughed at him like he was nuts. So mean. Mean girls suck. Oh, and to the woman wearing the "You're FUCKING UP my BUZZ" t-shirt. Nice. This is a family concert and there are little kids sitting near you, asshole. Oh, well — my son has heard those words enough now, that I don't worry about him anymore. So I'll let another Mom stress about that one.

In the I-feel-old department, I have come to the realization that my poor, sensitive ears do not like loud concerts anymore. And this one was LOUD. I think they turned their amps up to "11". But at a small, grassy-parked concert? There's no need for it to be that insanely loud, the old lady inside me complains. About halfway through the concert, my ears were so trashed that I could barely hear notes — they were starting to morph into some white-noise buzzing. But it wasn't a long concert, so the ears held up. Though after the concert, my friend commented that she could barely hear the lead singer over the guitars. It's too bad that "louder" means "better" at some of these concerts. I guess I'm going to have to join the ear-plug brigade (believe it or not, I looked around to see if anyone else was bothered by the sound, and noticed several adults and children adjusting ear-plugs! Hmm, I'll have to look into that for the next concert!)

Here is a great article about hearing loss: http://www.abelard.org/hear/hear.php. It's a bit frightening; it can't be cured. I already have tinnitus, and cell phones cause an uncomfortable click in my ear some days. Not good. Oh, well — rock on!

I do remember her smile...

A dear friend of mine emailed me today to let me know that another friend was dead. Pam and I were "best friends" since we met in 10th grade until we were about 20 and things went sour. So strange to not speak to her for about 13 years or so and then see an obituary. Yes, I hated her for a long time for the things she did (to me, to other friends). Then appreciated it for the good story it made. But I’m not sure how I feel about this. Just a little sad for her kids and for my memory of her, really, which makes it awkward. I think I’m not that surprised at the news because a few years back I had found articles about her online that told of her trouble with the law over a drug issue (it's all public record, the only reason I mention it here). I wonder if her death was drug related? Or if she had a normal, happy life and the incident was a misunderstanding or bad mistake due to temptation or a bad influence in her life a the time (we all make those). A wife, a mother a nurse... all I knew, really, was the teenager.

The other feeling I get, to be honest, is that it makes me feel scared for me. I know it is selfish, but obituaries scare me, especially when it is someone my age. Isn't everyone a little like that?

Back to Pam, though. I’ll try to afford her a few moments of happy memories today. We did have lots of good times. But it is so hard to remember the good without getting cynical and sarcastic; wondering what was real and what was conniving and self-serving on her part. As in “Ah, remember the time that we… too bad she would later ill-use my trust to empty my bank account!” It is so hard not to go there. It was bitter. In fact, I was surprised that my friend mentioned the news with such gentleness since she had her own bad experiences with Pam. But I write that here just to get it out, and will try to be respectful if others ask about her.

I wonder what her life was like. I’m sorry that she died, and I’m sorry for her mother and for her two children. Like my friend Kim before she died, I had always wondered if we would somehow meet again and what that would be like. Death says “no” to that option, yet again. And since I don’t believe in an afterlife, I will have to accept that, yet again.

Bully for you, Son!

We got a few notes from the teacher this week. Our son seems to keep getting himself into little spats with other kids his age. But in Atticus's defense, the problem seems to be with his coping skills as he has to deal with other little assholes (wink — it's never my son who is wrong!) Here are some examples, though, so that you can judge for yourself:

1. Yesterday in the library he was telling a friend about a story he read in "Ripley's Believe it or Not". The friend must have decided he didn't want to hear the story, so he (logically) began to hiss at Atticus. This upset Atticus, who got angry and possibly even started crying. Both boys had to get a "mark" on their sheets and apologize.

2. In music the other day, Atticus was sniffling and ended up wiping his nose on his shirt's sleeve. Typical elementary-school behavior when there are no tissues handy. But the kid next to him embarrassed him by announcing that action to the whole class in order to get Atticus to stop doing it. Atticus got upset and told the kid to leave him alone. Both kids had to apologize to each other and have a time-out.

3. The kids were in line to go to another classroom — one that was right across the hall. Atticus was supposed to be at the head of the line, but wasn't, and the girl behind him was telling him where he needed to be. They were only walking 10 feet, so he tried to tell her to leave him alone and just let the class get across the hall. The teacher defended the girl, saying "she was just trying to be helpful and Atticus got very upset." Me, I wonder why the teacher didn't tell the girl to mind her own business and stop parenting (teachering?) her classmates.

When I was in school, I was usually a "teacher's pet". But in looking back at those days, I'm starting to realize just WHY I was a "pet". I was always very shy — terrified to speak, in fact — smart, but quiet. Toed the line and only spoke when spoken to. I am envious of Atticus. His place in his world. He is the star of The Atticus Show! I love that he sings aloud, that he speaks up, that he defends himself against bullies, that he is a talkative, silly, obnoxious-at-times boy! LOVE it!

But the teachers don't ever reward that kind of behavior. This is one of the reasons that I don't go to parent-child conferences anymore (I send my husband): I can't sit there and hear the negatives. He's not "teacher's pet" material. They want to see how they can get him to stop doing all of those things. And they want my help. But as his Mom — who always sees him as charming and delightful and clever. I hope he is always the kind of kid who will speak up and call attention to himself and take over the room. The kind of person who is kind and gentle, but won't take crap from his peers.

I don't think I want to help them break my son like a wild pony. So run, Atticus, run!!

Neighborhood cleanup (a.k.a. Trash In, Cats Out)

It is a beautiful day in Colorado, and as we go through our morning routine of getting our son off to school, checking email and commenting on Facebook, one thing we look forward to is the ritual of looking out onto the back deck to see what the cats have brought for us.

Today it was a heavy rubber gardening glove. One that my husbands says is nice enough to be missed by someone! But we're not worried — if it was that important to someone, they wouldn't have left it out to be discovered by the rubber-sniffing cats. No escaped convict wearing anything made of rubber would be able to hide from these cats. What is it with the smell of rubber? We do get the occasional mouse and once in a while the sadness of a bird. But they have brought dozens of deflated balloons to our door; some reading "Happy Birthday!" or "It's a Boy!" We get latex gloves, dishwashing gloves...and yes, even a few dreaded, dragged and deflated condoms.

Getting rid of those is Joe's job.