zach n kali

I used to be a control freak. Some of you who know me are probably scoffing and saying, “used to?”, but seriously, I am evolving. If there was ever a case for evolution, I would make a good study. Having a baby around definitely makes you rethink your priorities. I have been noticing it in the little things, and I thought I'd share a few examples: Control Freak Me: I have to take a shower! I'm going to check the mail – people will see me! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: I have to take a shower... sometime... Control Freak Me: You're not going to eat that right, it was on the floor! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: At least pick the cat hair off. Control Freak Me: We must eat three healthy square meals every day! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: I think I forgot about lunch... and possibly breakfast. Control Freak Me: Saturday is cleaning day! Top to bottom! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me : We have guests coming over! Get the vacuum! Control Freak Me: Why w

On lazy afternoons one of my favorite things to do is bake. And in keeping with my latest trend, I took another one of my favorite desserts - chocolate chip cookies - and turned it into a cupcake. I have to admit that while I was baking, I was crafting this blog in my head. It was all about how some desserts are best left alone and should be enjoyed in their purest form. That you really shouldn't mess with the chocolate chip cookie unless you're under-baking it and adding vanilla ice cream. But I was pleasantly surprised! They were pretty awesome. For the cake I took the ingredients that make up a cookie - most importantly the brown sugar, vanilla, and chocolate chips - and made them into a light moist cake. For the frosting I made an eggless cookie dough, substituting powdered sugar for the granulated. The result was a rich, decadent chocolate chip cookie dough frosting that balanced the lightness of the cake itself. While I still think that some things are better le

Funny story for the night. Or maybe it was just funny because I was holding a glass of wine and Zach was the one holding Baby M. Either way here it is: Baby M has has a nasty diaper rash for a few days now. Doing what any good mother would do, I googled diaper rash and came up with a treatment plan (it's kind of a miracle that any of us who were born pre-internet days turned out ok). The best advice seemed to be "don't worry, use diaper ointment, and let your baby be naked for a while". Simple enough. So after completing steps one and two, Zach tentatively asks if we should do the third. I was doing the dishes, so I figured letting him crawl around naked on the linoleum floor would be fine. The words "bare-butt time" were no sooner out of Zach's mouth when Baby M let it loose all down the side of Zach's clothes. There is just something about getting peed on that sticks with you. Why is it that often when we try to do what's best for o

When Zach and I first decided to bring a baby into our home, I had this idea that I would be Martha Stewart in the nursery. I would cook my own baby food in interesting and stimulating flavors and I would knit him adorable sweaters. We would go for walks in our beautiful neighborhood park and he would coo and smile at me from his stroller (though Martha would probably use a vintage pram). I would bake and decorate adorable little cakes to celebrate his milestone which would also be beautifully commemorated in shadowboxes and scrapbooks. Well folks, the baby is here and Martha Stewart I am not. In order to make her own baby food, Martha must have 48 hour days. I find I am lucky if I provided Baby M with baby food that is more interesting than "Squash" or "Green Beans" (Thankfully Gerber makes "Fruit Smoothies" and "Apple Cinnamon"!). I tried knitting a hat once and it might fit an elf. I'm not sure where I went wrong, but clearly knit

When I was in college, I used to blow bubbles when I was stressed. Try it - take a few minutes, lean back, take a deep breath, and simply watch the pretty bubbles float away. Don't create a cheesy metaphor or learning objective; just watch them and take a few deep breaths. I hope you come away more relaxed and less stressed than you were a minute ago. Tonight I am sitting in the living room listening to my husband give Baby M a bath. They are splashing around and blowing bubbles in the water. I am finding that if I lean back, take a deep breath, and simply listen to the sweet sounds of laughter and bubbles, I can sit up a little less stressed. Too often we focus too hard on our tasks and tune out the noises, smells, and sights around us. Sometimes this is good and necessary, but sometimes we miss out on the best parts of the day. Some of my fondest childhood memories are associated with the smell of fresh bread, the feel of rolling down a green hill, and the sound of my

Dear Lord, Is this it? Poopy diapers? A laundry basket that seems as though it comes from the Harry Potter stories - I empty it and then look again and it's full? And the spit up, it just keeps coming! He's so unhappy right now, and I just don't know how to fix it! Really Lord? Did he have to stick his hand in the dirty diaper? Oh Lord, this isn't what I had planned! I have a college degree! I was going to have letters after my name! I got to wear heels and clack down the hall importantly! I had "work clothes"! Now I just have clothes... sometimes four outfits a day! And do you know how much energy it takes to get the stroller in and out of the car!? My friends don't want to hear my stories about poop and spit up, but they're the only stories I have! Lord, is this really it? Oh Lord, he's smiling! He's reaching for me. Oh Lord that little contented sigh is so sweet! Oh Lord, is this really it? Do I really get to be the