blogworthy.

the cake i baked for the (now) four year old.  (i will attempt not to mention that it is also a blogland redundancy.  damn, failed at that.  oh well.)

and the always blogworthy ;) four year old.

happy birthday to my beautiful georgia.  may you always believe that the world is your oyster but learn to share some of the pearls along the way.

simmer for 2.5 hours, stirring occasionally, do not allow to burn*

*or what to do when you are housebound with a sad sick cuddly three year old who repeatedly says "hold you," will not let you read a magazine on the couch, makes you watch team umizoomi marathons (fyi--not as good as marathons of law and order on tnt) and allows you only brief moments of free time to either a) pee or b) stir a pot on the stove.

balsamic reduction:
pour an entire bottle of balsamic vinegar into a sauce pan.  simmer over low heat for 2.5 hours, stirring occasionally.  do not allow to burn.  remove from heat.  cool.  pour into awesome little squeezie container that you've had sitting in pantry for 3+ years waiting for a purpose.  Squeeze on anything and everything.  for example,  drizzle over this roasted caprese salad from last week.  or over half a sliced avocado.  or put large dollops onto a plate with olive oil and dip bread, preferable some non-nutritional french, but equally good with 100% whole wheat sandwich bread.   definitely delicious on any roasted veggies, and a roasted veggie sandwich on focaccia, even better.  i've also heard it's good with strawberries and vanilla ice cream, but i haven't tried that (yet.)

(back story: a few years ago, sparky and i were at this beautiful winery in napa where i bought a bottle of thick rich gooey sweet-tart balsamic reduction sauce.   i have been jonesing for it ever since i drizzled the last drop.  it only took me 6 years and two failed attempts to finally make my own the right way.  i found the process here.  (tip: do not be tempted to add sugar to the vinegar (failed attempt #1) and do not use anything other than low heat (failed attempt #2.))

next time you are held hostage in your house, you too should make this lovely sauce.  "they" say it will last indefinitely in the pantry.  (who "they" are, i'm not quite sure, but i'm going to trust "them" on this one.)

now for this week's real recipe... my friend torrie made a yummy indian split pea soup that looks like it would fit the bill for a cool winter's night.  go have a look-see.

in health and in sickness.

always a teacher at <3

Why is it that whenever Sparky is going to spend a father/daughter weekend away with the older one, without fail, the younger one, the little spitfire who is going to hang with me for a couple days, gets sick?  (I was going to write "falls ill."  Huh, what century are we in?  Maybe watching too much Downtown Abbey... but I digress.)  I had a three year old's fun filled weekend planned (with perhaps an overnighter at Gigi and Papa's so Momma could have a little fun with her friends.)  But instead of a Ruby's burger  for dinner on Thursday, a half day at Disneyland, followed by a nice long nap, then Fashion Island for a giant pretzel and gelato on Friday, and a Saturday Snuggle Fest with G-pa and G-ma, we'll be on the couch.  Oh, we've got our arsenals to keep us busy.  Her: Team Umizumi, Sesame Street, Giada at Home, Angry Birds, and Fruit Ninja.  Me: Pinterest, Blog Roundups, Instagram, Hey Girl tumblrs, The Kitchen House, and streamed Netflix when she's sleeping.  (Note to self (and others): Do not fall asleep to Damages.  It is very unpleasant to be startled awake by screams so real you think someone is being attacked in your bedroom.  Also very unpleasant to have dreams all night long of that experience.  Stick with falling asleep to the banter of Jerry, George. and Elaine.)  It isn't quite the weekend of my dreams...but I'll make it work.  After all, I'm spending it with one of my favorite people, poor sweet little sickie that she is.

Hope y'all have a great weekend!

on the *end of an era

Over the weekend we moved G into her "big girl" bed and I couldn't stop the nostalgia from washing over me.  For the first time in almost 7 years, there wasn't a sleeping baby in the crib.

Now I realize that Georgia is not a baby, has not been a "baby" for quite some time.  She turns four in May!  She's been potty trained for well over a year.  She goes to school and writes her name in oversized uppercase.  She rides a two wheeler without training wheels.  (Yep, she's pretty much a stud!)  And in case I do forget, she tells me that she's a big girl and can "do it by myself!"  And by it, I mean everything. 

 And yet..."I hold you momma"-- that phrase, left-over from when she was first learning to form sentences, is spoken at least once a day.  Georgia climbs into my lap.  Or reaches her arms up.  Or wraps her legs around one of mine, looking up at me with the big blue eyes with the long dark lashes.  And she makes me STOP whatever it is I am doing simply to hold her.  The era of the crib is ending, but in those moments I am reminded that she will always be my baby.  Thank God for those moments.

*possible

on not wanting to get dressed.

Since the third of January, when the hoopla of the holidays officially ceased, I've been struggling with the simple act of getting dressed in the morning.  I'd prefer to stay in my pajamas and mope (yes--mope) about the house most of the day.  Unfortunately, or rather fortunately I should say, the six and three year olds don't really allow for this kind of self indulgence (or mild depression.)  I think Sparky might take issue with it too, should he arrive home after a long kick-ass day at work to find me in my flannels eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia in bed while watching netflixed episodes of the Gilmore Girls.  (Oh, that entire scenario sounds divine.)

Am I the only one that ever feels this way?

cocktail for the soul.

Fill a large plastic tumbler with ice and half of a pineapple, cut into chunks.  (They are small and perfectly ripe here.)  Pour equal parts water* and Hangar One Mandarin Vodka** over the ice/pineapple mixture.  Stab pineapple repeatedly with wooden chopsticks (that you picked up when buying the best ever poke from the Kahuku Superette.)  Sip slowly enjoying the sounds of the waves crashing and/or the sight of the Ohauan sunset from your newly acquired (yet temporary) front yard.  Occasionally, use your mad chopsticking skills to nibble on vodka-drenched pineapple.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

* Or soda, if you prefer some bubbles.

**Any old vodka will do. =)

what i wore: two zero.

Last weekend, my girlfriends and I made a two and half day party out of our twenty year reunion.  Because that's how we roll.  (It's also how we stay-at-home-moms remain sane.)

Best (and worst) line of the weekend said to my husband by multiple people throughout the night of the reunion:

"I feel like I know you because of Facebook."  

It's official: I am a Facebook whore.  The first step to recovery is admitting there's a problem, riiiiiiight?

Worst part of the weekend: I left my camera at the hotel pool and it is (apparently) lost forever.  (Someone lucked out with a camera full of digital images of all my beautiful friends.)

On to my outfit:

I bought this dress for the reunion, knowing that I'd ultimately be able to wear it for other occasions.  I even asked lovely Naina from Style'n to create a few stylish options for me.  And of course, she styled some beautiful, fun outfits.  I ran with Naina's inspiration and created the look below.  (Thanks also to Naina for reintroducing me to polyvore.!  If you like(d) playing with paper dolls or Barbies, hop on over and style some of your own outfits.)

 two zero

P.S.  If you are wavering on whether or not to go to a high school reunion (twenty or otherwise!),  I highly recommend going.  Most people just get better with age, like a fine wine.  Or cheese. =)

bittersweet.

This morning, I dropped off G (and Ava) at Vacation Bible School.  It's Georgia's first experience being dropped off for school (or anywhere for that matter.)  And it's kind of A BIG DEAL.  Last night, she excitedly chatted about it with me and her big sister, picked out one of her favorite dresses, said she wanted her hair done in "ponies."  And then firmly stated "Momma, you stay at church school WITH ME."  Except, no I wouldn't be and she knew this.

Georgia is not in the least bit shy or reticent.  She doesn't cling to me in social situations.  She says 'Hi!" to other shoppers as we pass in the aisle of the grocery store.  Her smile is forever ready to share.  She walks up to complete strangers to ask them their names and start conversations.  She also runs away from me in the shoe department of Nordstom or down our tree lined street.  (See ya, bye!)  But she knows I'm following.  Always.  G is a momma's girl of a different sort,  because although she's fiercely independent, strong-willed, vivacious; she is at the exact same moment "my baby" not only in my eyes, but hers as well.  Of course she's spent time with grandparents and our babysitter, but for the most part, Georgia and I spend all of our waking moments together, and we (mostly ;) like it that way.

Leaving her today was harder for me than I thought it would be.  I was excited for Georgia to be, in her words, "a big girl" experiencing new activities and new people.  I was also looking forward to a morning of "me time," spent in my empty quiet house.  But as she sat in the first pew of our church in her pink polka dotted dress, her blonde ponytails lightly grazing her shoulders, and we said goodbye, her eyes weren't the only ones that became full with tears.  I choked mine back, kissed her once more, smiled, and rushed down the center aisle, knowing that she and I would both be fine and that hiding my small sense of sadness over this first goodbye was best for the both of us.  This was, after all, only the first of many firsts to come... 

I won't lie.  I hid at the back of the church, chatting unobtrusively with another mom.  By the time I walked out the double doors of the church a few minutes later (OK-twenty!), she was happily sitting on one of her teacher's laps, smiling her Georgia smile.  And I was smiling too.

six!

I can't affectionately refer to Ava as "the five year old" anymore.

Let the adventures of SIX begin...

take silence and respect it.

Have you met The Chirpy Bird?  She's witty, cooks up a whole lotta scrumptiousness, weaves a great tale, and is gorgeous.  (Yes, I know that last one shouldn't matter...)  In fact, she's the kind of girl I'd like to set up with my older (hot) brother, if this were the real world, and not imaginary blog land.  The Chirpy Bird (she's also known as Tash =) recently started a series celebrating the things in life to which she is saying YES.  Today Tash's post centered on aloneness.  It brought to mind this amazing video by film maker, Andrea Dorfman, and poet/singer/songwriter Tanya Davis.  

I can't remember where I first saw the video, but it made a huge impression on me (as I'm sure it has on countless others.)  I mentioned it in a comment on The Chirpy Bird's blog, assuming that she must've seen it before.  To my surprise she had not, so I thought perhaps I'd share it here in case you've not as well.  Even if you have watched it, it's worth a revisit, yes?

just one cup?

It's midway through day one of my cleanse, friends.  And it's not food I am missing.  It's caffeine, specifically coffee.  I did not realize how completely I rely on those big mugs of gorgeous chocolate colored liquid.  I don't know if I can do this.

via

get set, reset.

I am in a rut and I feel like a need a kick in the tush.  A radical change.  Even for just a few days...

I started the new year right.  After LOTS of holiday merrymaking (in every possible way!) I began eating more vegetables. Cutting out the sugar.  Exercising more.  Drinking less wine.  (Don't laugh!)  And to be  smug, it was all very easy.  It was just... back to normal.  And it felt amazingly good.  But then something happened a week or two ago...   I'm not sure what.  Perhaps it had to do with the five year old getting sick, and then, over the next 12 days, the rest of my family falling like dominoes.  Then there was the complete lack of sleep,  recovering with too much caffeine, rushing just to keep up, getting sick myself...

Thankfully I'm on the mend.  (I just have that horrible lingering cough.  You know the one.  It shows up when you start laughing really hard.  And what I need right now IS to laugh really hard... somewhat ironic. But I digress.)  And even though I am on the mend, I feel, well, to put it bluntly, like crap.  I've tried over the last few days to get back to my smug self, the girl who easily makes decisions that leave her feeling shiny-- healthy and revived, but not deprived.  (I'm really not good at deprivation, friends!)  But I can.not.find that girl anywhere.  And so I've decided that these desperate times call for desperate measures.

Enter the cleanse.  Next Tuesday, I'll be starting a three day juice fast created by Ritual Cleanse.  And if you think I'm waiting until after the weekend, after Valentine's Day for a reason, well, then, you'd be a genius.

Have a romantic weekend.  (In my daydream, Sparky and I are sailing away on that boat.)

thou shalt not covet.

And yet I do.  Sparky and the five year old are off skiing in Mammoth.  The two year old is sick for what seems like the thirty second time this season and I was up all night with her, my poor sweet sicky baby, who let's face it, really isn't a baby anymore. =( So while she is briefly content watching Giada (thank goodness for Giada at times like these!) and slightly comforted by Children's Tylenol, I'm drinking my fourth cup of coffee, browsing the interwebs, coveting:

Laughter

Stripes

Gold

Comfort (aka my mommy)

Sleep

Scent

Breakfast

Hope y'all have a good weekend!

a quote and a glimpse of summer in january.

Comparison is the thief of joy.

-dwight edwards

Whenever I feel envy, I try to remember that.

But seriously people, unless you live here too (or somewhere with similar weather patterns,) you are jealous of ME.  (Terribly sorry to steal your joy.)  The high today was, I believe, 79 degrees.  Tomorrow, it's supposed to be in the mid 70s and we are headed to the beach.  And I, for one, am in need of this glorious weather.  If you are in the dead of cold or the middle of an awful storm, I hope these photographs warm you a bit...

{low quality "cell" phone pictures i took on a morning walk through the neighborhood--

not this morning and not my neighborhood, but close enough ;)}

 {oh, and not sure where my mind is, but don't the rocks in the background look a bit like the silhouette of a kissing couple?  can't wait to see if they look this way to me tomorrow!}

Whether you're in a bikini or a snowsuit, I hope you enjoy your weekend!

no resolutions.

Just goals for 2011.  (And a few photographs in review.)

1.  Write everyday.
2.  Explore new parks with the two year old while the five year old is at school.
3.  Cook with the five year old more.  (Just yesterday as she was watching me make a vinaigrette, she asked "Is that a shallot, momma?"  Why, yes, yes it is! =)

*cooking with the girlies in 2010*

4.  Find more creative ways to cook vegetables (thus, eating more vegetables.)
5.  Move my body in a way that doesn't hurt it.
5.  Write everyday.
6.  Play in water more and SWIM (at least) once a week in the ocean this summer (because hello!, I live a mile from this ocean.)

*splashing around with G in the pool, summer 2010*

7.  Bake this cake (which I've seen many places over blog land!)
8.  Go on at least 5 adults-only vacations (even if they are just overnighters.)  Last year we went here, here (twice!), here (rented her apartment for a bit!) and here.  So maybe I should increase that goal to SIX!)

*menus from two of the yummy restaurants we ate at in NYC*

*wine tasting during the spring at Frank Family in Napa*

9.  Learn.  (How to use my camera and something new.  Suggestions?)

10.  Read a book a month.

11.  (Continue to) work my closet (which was initially inspired by Jamie, but now finding inspiration and direction in many other places.  Thank you Naina.)

*workin' my closet at the Plaza last summer.  that's my rehearsal dress from almost a decade ago!*

12.  Show gratitude every.single.day.  Thank you, Sparky, for all that you are to me and the girlies.  We love you and are extremely blessed.

Do you have any goals for the new year?  I'd love to hear them.

first annual (tradition.)

In the midst of the regularly scheduled holiday rush-to-get-it-all-done-while-enjoying-ourselves-immensely-and-creating-lasting-memories-programming, the two year old and I took some time out today (a station break, if you will) to puddle jump and window shop.  The unplanned one on one time with Georgia was incredibly satisfying, relaxing, and fun.  The word decompress comes to mind.  These are the moments.  (Oh, and if you are in the mood for some puddles, I highly recommend these grown up wellies for proper jumping. =)

it's the little things (and sometimes it's not.)

"over the shoulder smolder holder"

This is not me.  This is pretty Kendi from Kendi Everyday, a really funny and fashionable style blog (just in case you aren't a Kendi stalker and didn't know.)  A few days ago, she chose my suggestion for the title of one of her posts and I have to tell you that it made my day.  I was probably as excited as the five year old was when that sneaky little elf Rocky finally showed up here yesterday afternoon.  (Side note, if your elf gets sick, or eaten by your dog, or simply lost in the rafters, a new one can be readily purchased at Barnes and Noble for a mere $29.95.  What.a.racket.)   In all honesty, I was more excited.  Maybe that makes me a dork (uh-huh,) but I choose to look at it differently.  It made me realize that I still have that little kid inside of me,  the one that can find excitement in the littlest of moments, the one that jumps up and down clapping her hands in joy (oh yes I did,) the one that giggles.  And that, my friends, is a very good thing.


Now on to bigger things... anyone notice her reflection GROWING in the mirror lately (or is that just ME?) Sometimes when I turn around to check myself out after getting dressed, I do a double take, and not in a good way.  Hello?  Whose behind is that???   (Thank goodness for these loving pants.)  


It's only the beginning of the eating season people!  This madness has got to stop. 

Really (Really!) Tasty Veggie Soup 

(aka diet soup, shhhhhhhhhh, if you don't tell anyone, no one will know.)

Extra virgin olive oil

1/2 pound carrots, cut into bite size rounds

2 small onions, chopped

4 lg. stalks celery, sliced

2 (or 3 or 4 or 5) cloves garlic,

1/2 small head green cabbage, thinly sliced

1/2 pound (French) green beans, cut into thirds

2 large zucchini, cut into half moons

3 14.5 ounce) cans chopped Italian tomatoes in juice

6 cups low sodium chicken broth

3 cups water

a bunch of basil, chiffonade

1 bay leaf

salt and pepper

2 bags (8 or 9 oz. each) baby spinach leaves

2 cans great northern white beans, drained and rinsed

Cover the bottom of a large pot with olive oil (a couple of tablespoons) and heat over medium.  Add carrots, onions, and celery.  Sauté for 10 minutes until veggies begin to soften, stirring occasionally.  Add garlic and sauté for one more minute.  Stir in tomatoes with juice, cabbage, green beans, chicken broth, water, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, bay leaf, and basil.  Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring occasionally.  Reduce to low, cover and simmer for 10 minutes.  Stir in zucchini and spinach and bring back to a boil.  Reduce to low, cover and simmer an additional 10 minutes until veggies are tender.  Stir in beans and heat through.

Cook's Notes

1. Eat this when not eating "party food" and maybe, just maybe, you will be able to fit in your jeans for the entirety of the season.  (This is primarily a "note to self.")

2.  For the girlies and Sparky and company, I add pasta and shredded cheese to the bowls before ladling in the soup.

3. Fabulous (of course) with a crusty sourdough bread smothered with butter.  ( <-----Defeats my purpose.) 

4.  A little swirl of Sriracha never hurt.

5.  Chunked avocado is surprisingly good piled on top of a big bowl.  Something about the juxtaposition of the hot soup with the cool creamy avocado...mmmmmmmm.  I wiill be having it this way for lunch today!

APB on a missing elf.

Maybe you know an elf too?  Ours is named Rocky.  He comes every year on the morning of the first of December with a small gift (and every morning after until Christmas) to let the girlies know that Santa loves them, and well, that Santa is watching.  (Don't worry we instill the true reasons behind Christmas too.  Just not here.)   Weeeeeeeeeellll, it's the (early) morning of December 1st, and Mr. Elf is nowhere to be found.  He's not sitting on top of the mantle and he isn't in any of the holiday tubs full of our Christmas decorations either.  Sparky said he checked them all and I believe him.  Really, I do.  (The tubs are in the attic;  I can't get up there or you know I'd be ripping through those damn boxes RIGHT NOW at 2:37 am.)  Before we went to bed, Sparky said, "It's fine. Rocky's just going to be a little late this year.  The girls won't even notice.  I'll move the truck out tomorrow and you can get up in the attic.  No big deal."  And of course, he's right.  Because he's rational and unemotional and normal.  Completely unlike me.  

Here's the letter Rocky sent the girlies.  I just found it and apparently, he's British.  Who knew?  Happy December all.  Let the holiday fun begin. 

thankful thursdays.

dear man who blatantly cut in front of us in line for the matterhorn,

thank you for providing me with the prime opportunity to teach my daughter a lesson about respect for others, patience, and manners.  thank you further for not even turning around to acknowledge my daughter kindly looking up at you while saying "i think you are supposed to be waiting on the number two" because she truly thought you had stepped in front of us on accident.  it just highlighted to me what an amazing human being i am raising.

all the best-
spf

the five year old in another line where everyone was very disney-like and waited their turns.