On Children

"And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.

And he said: 

'Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies not but their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but see not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.'"

(from The Prophet, by Kahilil Gibran)

She's asleep. I'm awake.

I was rocking her to sleep last night, quietly singing Sea of Love and Moon River over and over into her left ear. With just enough light seeping through the crack of the door, I caught a glimpse of our blurred silhouette in the mirror and something hit me. It hit me so hard that my chest contracted and tears started to form.

I'm still trying to figure out how to express what it was, but I think it's partly that recognition of holy-crap-I'm-a-MOM, mixed with the more gradual realization that I am a part of this world. A world I'd chosen to reject and withdraw from for five years because I thought life was without worth or meaning. That there wasn't even a point to waking up and getting out of bed for it. I should probably explain.

As for the first part, I have to say: When I became pregnant with Addie, I was secretly REALLY worried that I wasn't maternal enough to have a child. I had held an infant once or twice in my life before her (besides my little sister, but only photos prove that), and I had changed diapers, hmmm, probably never. I never shrieked in delight when there was a child in my vicinity, and I was usually the one rolling my eyes and giving the stink-eye to the fussy baby in the restaurant (karma is such a bitch). In fact, it was a running joke in my family that I hated babies and loved feasting on them in various manners and methods.

Preparation for twenty years in the future.

So I waited for that "mom gene" to kick in, bestowing me with infinite patience, jeans that made my ass flat (the horror!), and a full compendium of nursery rhymes. But those things didn't happen, or they haven't so far. I'm still me, the Ariel that existed before her. Still selfish sometimes, still impatient, still utterly confused as to what age any given child is. Still blasting Blackalicious in the car, reading gossip websites, hoping to get hit on once in a blue moon. Forgetting to pack diapers or sunscreen every time she leaves the house because she has yet to purchase a proper diaper bag which would remind her to fill all those little compartments with stuff. Still feeling like a child herself. The infantile leading the infant.

Luckily after almost nine months, I now realize that I can still be that girl while raising a decent human being. What can I say, I'm a slow learner.

I swear I'm not just the nanny.

The second part? Things have changed a lot since I felt that way. I won't go into details, but I will say that freedom from depression and addiction has changed my life more than I could ever properly describe (even more than having a child). I feel PRESENT in my life today. No longer living in the past or fearing the future. Letting go of resentments, self-hatred, and regrets. Finally able to recognize and enjoy the beauty in the world that didn't seem to exist before I got sober.

Having moments like last night are just further proof of the miracles I get to experience now that I'm finally awake to them.

Gerbera Infantallis Grandiflorum

Chicken soup for the Sickly and Postpartum

My whole week has felt topsy turvy since all three of us have been sick. Zach got the worst of it, some godawful flu that's kept him from work three days in the row. His fever finally broke last night and he's no longer hacking up bits of lung matter, but still, poor guy. That's why I made an abbreviated version of our favorite chicken orzo soup yesterday. We originally made it with turkey around Thanksgiving time, but it's so tasty that we make it more often with chicken.

Simple roast chicken: Coat inside/out with olive oil. Salt and pepper inside/out.

Stuff with fresh herbs, garlic cloves, cut-up lemon. Cook 1 1/2 hours at 425 degrees. Voila.

You can go the easier route and just buy a roast chicken and stock/broth at the store, OR you can go the labor-intensive route of brining the bird overnight, roasting it the next day, making homemade stock after you've taken the meat off, and then begin the soup. The latter produces SUBLIME results. The meat is so moist and flavorful from the brine, and the broth is a rich, golden brown color. The veggies go: mirepois (carrots, onion, celery), garlic, and then whatever root veggies you like. We use rutabaga, parsnips, and turnips. Throw a little bouquet garnis in there (fresh herbs tied up with a string or put in a small bag) while it's simmering, orzo, fresh parsley and chicken at the very end, and you're done. We like eating it with freshly grated Parmegiano Reggiano on top, along with a squeeze of lemon juice.

Hastily taken photograph. Wish I took some better ones.

I made a double batch yesterday so I could bring some to my friend who just had a baby boy last week, but I skipped the brining and making stock-part. Still turned out pretty tasty.

I also tried a new recipe, Ginger Tea Cake, that I read in one of my books, After the Baby's Birth: A Complete Guide for Postpartum Women. The book itself it great because you normally just read about the pregnancy/labor portion and forget about what happens to you AFTER the little bugger is born. It borrows extensively from the Ayurvedic lifestyle practiced in India, including recommendations of food that are given to postpartum women like ghee, honey, milk, almonds, and coconut rice. The recipe was so simple, I'm going to write it down from memory since I just lent the book to my friend.

- 1/2 cup of boiling water

- 1 stick of butter (1/4 lb)

- 1 inch of fresh ginger, grated (or 1 tbsp. of dry ground ginger)

- 1/2 cup of blackstrap molasses

- 1 egg, beaten

- 1/2 cup brown or raw sugar

- 1 1/2 cups whole-wheat flour (I used AP)

- 1 tsp baking powder

- 1 tbsp cinnamon

- 1/4 tsp salt

(the photo above is for double the normal recipe, hence, two eggs and two sticks of butter)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Pour boiling water over butter and ginger to melt. Stir in the rest of the ingredients and beat until smooth. Bake in a buttered 8 by 8-inch pan, for approx. 35 minutes, or until a toothpick stuck in the center comes out clean. Best served warm with tea.

My verdict: I may sift the flour, mix more thoroughly, or let the batter rest a minute next time since there were tiny bits of uncooked flour in the cake. It still tasted great though, a lot like the gingerbread cake my great-grandma used to make and serve with whipped cream on top. It's not too sweet, and delicous with a cup o' tea. (I also used a 9 by 9-inch pan which worked fine, and will probably even use a muffin tin next time. Just adjust the cooking time.)

Not the prettiest cake I've made, but mighty tasty all the same.

One more dish I made last night was a cucumber salad with mint and feta. I won't write the recipe down here because I snagged it off a great blog called Simply Recipes, so check out this link if you're interested in making it. Again, a very simple, light, refreshing dish, perfect for summer. I used apple cider vinegar instead of white vinegar, I'm sure you could even use balsamic or red wine if you preferred.

I won't let go of summer. I won't.

Have a great weekend everyone!

-A.

Work It

And Now For Some Lighter Fare...

Forgive the terrible shaky camera work, mismatched clothes, and thirty seconds of taping my leg rather than the giggling child. I was too busy growling. 

Things I will do in my life.

I'm starting to put fingers to keyboard the things I would like to do before I leave this Earth. Some are doable right at this moment, others will take a little longer (and a lot more money). I'll keep adding on whatever new things I think of, and cross them off as they've been completed. 

Write one yourself, it's amazing how motivated or excited you may feel after seeing it written down. 

1. Graduate from college and walk onto the stage to pick up my diploma.

2. Play guitar on a busy sidewalk.

3. Live in Japan for a year and re-learn my first language.

4. Go deep-sea fishing.

5. Grow a veggie garden.

6. Work at a radio station.

7. Produce a story for This American Life. 

8. Sky-dive.

9. Get dressed up and see an opera. 

10. Eat at Masa's in NYC.

11. Teach little kids how to cook.

12. Learn how to play piano again.

13. Open an IRA.

14. Sew Addie a dress.

16. Sing karaoke in a crowded bar.

17. Write a book.

18. Help other women through recovery.

19. Run a bed and breakfast.

20. Visit every major tourist attraction in San Francisco.

21. Repel down a rock. 

22. Bellydance for Zach.

23. Look in the rearview mirror of my car and see two sleeping children.

24. Own land.

25. Learn to hold yoga handstand--Adho Mukha Vrksasana--for longer than a minute.

26. Take Addie camping in Yellowstone National Park.

27. Stay at Esalen for a retreat.

28. Spend a day of meditation in Big Sur. 

29. Make something from the French Laundry cookbook.

30. Finish reading Don Quixote.

31. Create a comic strip.

32. Dance to Pink Martini live at the Oregon Zoo in Portland. 

33. Climb a mountain in Nepal.

34. Lay on a beach in Thailand.

35. Hot-air balloon.

36. Get a pet snake.

37. Be the breadwinner of the family.

38. Learn how to make foam art for my cappuccino. 

39. Ski and hot springs in Hokkaido. 

40. Ride a horse.

41. Visit my friend, Marta, in Prague. 

42. Eat at Ferran Adria's restaurant El Bulli in Spain. 

43. Try stinky tofu.

44. Light fireworks in my grandparent's backyard in Japan.

45. Take a molecular gastronomy class.

46. Bake croissant. 

47. Make a music video.

48. Don't use any technological devices for a week.

49. Walk along the Great Wall of China.

50. Ride a camel.

51. Get another tattoo.

52. Record interviews with members of my family about their childhood. 

53. Enter a baking competition.

54. Go sailing in the Bay.

55. Be an audience member at the Daily Show. 

56. Road-trip from coast to coast across America.

57. Go snow-shoeing.

58. Travel by bike on a four or five day trip. 

59. Start modern dance again. 

60. Volunteer at a shelter.

61. Make home-made ice-cream. 

62. 

Not Until I've Lost A Leg...

...will I ever go to the hospital again.

I almost started to cry tonight when Zach opened the bill for my finger/blender accident two weeks ago, because it says we owe them $2,079.00. TWO THOUSAND SEVENTY NINE DOLLARS FOR A FINGER WOUND.

I interacted with the doctor for literally seven minutes. I declined X-rays and sutures. All she did was put Derma-bond on the cuts and wrap it in gauze and tape. TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS.

I am so determined not to let this incident control me and ruin the evening, but I'm just going to mention this. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH OUR HEALTH CARE SYSTEM? Seriously, if you are a fiscal conservative/Republican/libertarian/someone who thinks social healthcare is the demise of American capitalism, PLEASE TELL ME HOW YOU THINK THIS CURRENT SYSTEM WORKS. Even for people who are able to get health insurance.

Because I am one of the millions of Americans who cannot afford health insurance. Up until a week ago, Zach's job didn't offer insurance. We had to go the private route. All of the insurance companies we went to DENIED me, for "past records", meaning I was denied for being honest on my application about the very brief time I was on mental health medication. Otherwise, I am the picture of health. Our only other option was Cobra, which would cost us $500/month for catastrophic insurance, not including Zach or Addie. Uh, huh. Sure. If I, a healthy 25-year old woman, cannot afford health insurance, what chance does ANYONE have? And when a finger wound costs TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS to treat, what happens when I break my arm? Or find out I have cancer?*

Could I have skipped the trip to the hospital? Probably. Although Zach is a worrywart, and the doctor said it was good to have it looked at to check for nerve damage or chances of infection. But should those be my only two options? Risk infection and possible complications later on, or pay $2,000.00?

I know at least fifteen people close to me who don't have insurance, either because they were denied by private companies, don't work enough hours to qualify at work, or they can't afford it. They are one accident away from complete financial ruin and homelessness. And many who do have insurance through jobs still feel anxiety in this economy, because they are one pink slip away from being in the same boat as the rest of us.

Yes, this is the number one topic in the national news at the moment, and we need to be paying attention. What I have just described is WHY we need to pay attention. I don't think what happened to me is even all that bad, placed within the context of what is happening to others in this country. I'm chalking this up to one big very expensive mistake we made. But it makes me sad and frustrated. Sad that millions of people have to live in fear of receiving health care, frustrated that this great country we live in cannot move forward with a universal healthcare plan. I'm not up for discussing the politics of this right now. For me in this very moment, it is black and white.

*Speaking of which, Fresh Air on NPR was very interesting today. Terry interviewed two women who had/have cancer in their 20's, what their experiences were like with health insurance, treatment, and how they (and others) use humor to get through it all. If you want to listen, go here.

What's this here blog-doo-hickey

I'm still new to blogging and I'm figuring out all the features I can change, comments being one of them. I didn't realize that I had the setting on where you had to create a User ID just to leave comments, which is a giant pain in the ass, so I just changed it and now anyone can leave me a message, anonymous or identifiable.  But remember what your mama said: if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. Or if you do say it, expect me to reply and call you an idiot.

Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to read Babe and the Beast. I would love any and all feedback!

Grateful Labor Day

1. The weather was beautiful all three days, both in Pacific Grove and Campbell. Sun was bright and happy, but the breeze kept us cool.

2. We were able to spend the day with my sister on her actual birthday, something I haven't done in at least five or six years. It was fun going for walks in downtown PG and Carmel, eating sushi, and hanging out at home.

3. Zach and I puttered around the yard, clipping and mowing and being all grown-up-like. It was fun except when Zach watched me prune the bushes like a hawk, mentioning every ten seconds how poor of a job I was doing. This isn't the gardens of Versailles, buddy (but I appreciate your attention to detail)!

4a. Today, we went to the birthday party of Addie's buddy, A., who turned the big numero UNO on the same day as my sister. It was birthday madness this entire weekend, four people I knew celebrated them.

4b. PLUS, a little boy celebrated his entrance into the world on the 6th. So make that five birthdays. Congratulations to the V. family! Can't wait to meet S.'s little brother.

4c. And Happy Birthday to my Great-Grandmother, Doris, or Granny as she is known to all, who turned 99 today. She's lived a long, interesting, sometimes difficult life; surviving the Depression, running a family and a farm, raising her two young grandsons when she probably thought she was through with the kid portion of life. I hope she ate lots of chocolate cake and her favorite Italian prunes today...

5. Many little things I'm happy for this weekend: Peet's Lemon Rose Tea, Zach's new job letting him have the Monday off, homeopathic teething tablets, Zoe's infinite patience, my awesome camera that I'm beginning to use again, celebrations of life, cupcakes with melted icing, messages from friends on Facebook, my comfy bed with soft sheets, talking to my parents on the phone.

Being able to recognize the blessings in my life.

Good night, A.

Weekend Update

Even though we still have one day left of this Labor Day weekend, it already feels like it's coming to an end. The same way it feels when it's very late Saturday night, and you know that when you wake up on Sunday, it will zip by so quickly that you'll blink and already be a new pair of underwear (hopefully), saying goodnight, and waking up to Monday morning.

Live in the present, Ariel! We're still in the middle of the weekend!

We spent a lovely, albeit too short, Saturday in Pacific Grove to celebrate Boo's birthday. We gorged ourselves on fresh sashimi, sushi, homemade tofu, broiled eggplant with hachi-miso, and grilled yellowtail. It felt so strange to be eating at Akaoni without our mother who has always accompanied our visits there, and uses her clout (translation: speaks Japanese) to order "off-menu" and basically take the reins of our meal. Zach, my sister, and I all looked at each like lost children, unsure of what and how much to order, but we managed alright and enjoyed the most delicious meal. I wanted to take photos but Addie was asleep, then awake, then hungry, than attention-hungry. So all I got was this:

oh, and this:

Eating miso eggplant for the first time. She loved it.

We took a stroll down to Carmel Beach after dinner, and it was pleasantly bustling in the usually subdued town. It was nice to see large groups of friends and families mixed in with the usual rich, elderly couples window-shopping at Thomas Kinkade (barf) and various kitsch stores. Zach bought a latte at a local coffee shop, deemed it disgusting, and launched into a grand diatribe about the gross neglect of the poor coffee beans perpetrated by the teenage girl.

"The way she tamped it! Psh! She barely tapped it! You're supposed to put at LEAST 40 pounds of pressure in there! And she let an entire shot go to waste while she was pouring mine!!" (I gasp) "Where is the CARE, these days? Do we no longer take PRIDE in what we do?"

Here is where I come in. I have a sick compulsion to tell store owners/employees when a service or product is unsatisfactory. Now, before you label me a self-righteous bitch-customer from hell, let me preface by saying that I am very nice when I let them know that the coffee was terrible or the teething necklace I bought Addie fell apart the minute I put it on her. I don't act like a raving lunatic, and I will let most things go if it's not worth the trouble (e.g. I don't demand to speak to the manager if a server is rude/apathetic/acts like it's such a huge inconvenience that I exist in this world). And 99.9999 percent of the time I do give feedback, the response is kind and understanding. Which is funny because sometimes, I create these epic hypothetical scenarios in my head about how they're going to flip out and kick me out of the store or just glare and give me the finger...and surprise! It never happens. Remind me to write another post about how crazy I am.

In this particular case, after much resistance from Zach (who hates confrontation/being an inconvenience--translation: one of those "difficult" customers), I brought the latte back into the coffee shop and very pleasantly asked the girl if I could simply exchange the latte for a regular coffee. She was more than happy to oblige, and after I finished stirring my cream and sugar into the cup, tapped me on the shoulder and handed me some cash. Totally unnecessary and totally cool. See? It pays to be honest AND nice!

Too bad their plain coffee was even worse then their latte. At least their hearts' were in the the right place. :)

So what else happened? We ate fancy miniature cakes from Parker-Lusseau Patisserie in Monterey, and Boo opened her presents from us. Year twenty-two was more pragmatic then previous birthdays. Binders, notebooks, documents organizer, Trader Joe's candied pecans, Hanes mens t-shirts, and some trail-mix. Everything a poor, starving grad-student needs.

Wish we could have stayed the rest of the weekend, but I had to go sell baby paraphernalia to the weekend crowd.

Happy 22, Boo. We love you...

Passing The Mantle

Tonight, I retire my childhood nickname of Little Cherub. I think she deserves it now: 

Rumble In The Crib

The other day, I had a moment where I felt quite proud that I outsmarted someone. A baby. My eight month old baby. I know, I can see the look on your faces now...

The weather's been like the surface of the sun as of late so Addie is naked most of the time. Very cute, but problematic since she's figured out how easily she can rip the tabs off her diapers. Rii-ip. Stick 'em back on. Rip. Rip. (evil giggle) Back on. It's become a futile game we play.

When I was worried enough she would pee on our bed again, I finally grabbed a pair of dirty shorts crumpled on the floor and shoved them on her. Ha! Take THAT, baby! I thought triumphantly. She kept clawing at herself for a minute, figured the game was over, shrugged her chubby little shoulders like she was going, "meh, whatever gets you off, crazy lady," and tried to roll off the bed.

Small victories...

"You may have won this battle, but you will not win the war!"

(also, she's not in floating in purgatory, our bedsheets are black.)

True Romance

Courtesy of a dear friend who will babysit Addie, Zach and I are planning to paint the town CRAZY RED next week with......DATE NIGHT, people! Something I've realized as being SO vital to maintain one's sanity and keep any semblance of a romantic relationship after you've had a child. 

Here's the conversation we had last night discussing the anticipated event. (I promise we weren't Skype messaging each other in the same bed. He was working late that night.) 

Ariel 11:39 PM

yeah, i'm good for whatever. i'd be happy watching freakin First Daughter as long as its just the two of us

Zachary11:39 PM

seriously

Ariel11:39 PM

lets eat somewhere yummy

11:39 PM 

and overdress

11:39 PM 

hahaha

Zachary11:40 PM

alright

11:40 PM 

then maybe we can have loud sex after then get our daughter

Ariel11:40 PM

ha ha

11:40 PM 

we shall see

Zachary11:41 PM

hey date night, if I pay, you put out!! and if you pay I put out

11:41 PM 

win-win

(LOVING the male logic. Good think he's not serious.) The conversation ends in the usual manner...

Ariel11:41 PM

want to see POTTA in regular or 3-D?

11:42 PM 

if they're still even showing it by next week

Zachary11:42 PM

not sure, haven't been to one of these new fangled 3d movies

Ariel11:43 PM

(shaking fist) Gaaah! You kids and your new-fangled colored glasses with thingamajigs poppin out the damn screen. Now hand me a Werther's.

Zachary11:44 PM

when will the craziness stop

11:44 PM 

GET OFF MY LAWN YOU STUPID KIDS  

I'll share how it went next week!