dynamic elf

Hi again, livejournal!

Yesterday I learned that The Secret Blueberry Patch is actually an entire SECRET BLUEBERRY PATH, even visible on Google Maps (path, not berries). Wasn't there some fancy wild Maine blueberry pie recipe by someone famous that must be made with actual wild blueberries or it will be all wrong? What is that recipe? I see a lot of blueberries in my future.

[Poll #1745151]

This post brought to you by the fact that spike just managed to score me some of the awesome and delicious Belizean habanero sauce that I fell in love with when dilletante and I went to "Scotland" last year.

+ Cafe near my office sells hot grits in the morning!
- The tub next to them apparently contains margarine, and now so do I
++ Ran a 5k on Sunday
- Stressed my knee a little bit
++++ Biked to the start
( more good and bad )
+ Looking out the window at a dude in a rowboat in the sun, on the river, which is sparkling with reflected light, and feeling - just in this moment - simple and happy.

I am so groggy this morning that I forgot my own food allergies and ordered an egg and cheese croissant. At least I left off the sausage...

It turns out I actually like to take N grocery shopping. She's good company - sure, she'll ask me to buy princess fruit snacks or Lunchables or whatever, but when I say "no, that's not healthy food" or "no, that's not on The List", she usually just accepts it and moves on. And the rest of the time, well, she's turning into a good conversationalist, and I am loving it.

I was never a grocery list person before shopping with her. I'd remember the few essentials that we were out of, and basically cruise the aisles looking for other things to make meals out of and waiting for inspiration. However, it turns out that a list is a handy tool for keeping unwanted items out of my grocery cart. Last time we were there, she noticed that the strawberries looked particularly enticing; I noted that it was sad that we didn't have fruit on our list, because we have lots of fruit at home, and wondered if perhaps we should get it as our treat. "No, I'll put it on the list," she said, and proceeded to write "STRAWBERYS" at the bottom of the list and then cross it off.

(Oh, baby, I do that too.)

So there we are, walking through the aisles, talking about food and life and everything. And suddenly I realize that our conversation sounds like this:

"Oh, princess fruit snacks! I know they have corn syrup in them and you don't buy me princesses but Katia brings those to school sometimes."
"Yeah, you're right, we don't get those."
"Oh, mommy, look! A different kind of kid yogurt I've never tried."
"We don't need yogurt right now, kiddo. We have plenty."
"Yeah, I know."
"But they look good. Let's remember them for next time."
"Yeah, okay. Hey, look at all of these colorful flossies [floss picks]! They're so pretty! And they're colorful and so I bet they're for kids."
"We don't need flossies."
"I KNOW we don't need them! I was just LOOKING because they're PRETTY!"

...and suddenly I realize that she has leaped forward and left me behind. I'm still assuming that every time she points at a product she is going to beg me to buy it, and here she is, window-shopping and telling me stories to keep me company, and I'm still saying no, every time. No, no, no, no, no. How did I not notice that she was smelling the roses? I guess I was too busy griping to listen.

Sometimes, the alternative to "no" isn't "yes", it's "oh, really?"

Later that evening I was discussing the incident with spike who reminded me that parents are always doing exactly that -- holding on to outdated, unnecessary habits we developed in order to survive. Why am I saying "no" to something N isn't even asking for? To head off a confrontation with crystal-clear boundaries. But if she's bought into the power of the list to keep us on task, do I even need to do that?

A few weeks ago, we were on a road trip and stopped at a rest stop convenience store to stretch our legs; I'd told Natalie she could pick some food she liked, and I'd get her whatever treat she wanted that didn't have corn syrup in it. She made a beeline for the cotton candy and carried it around like a talisman for a while, up and down the aisles, brushing the fingers of her left hand over all the other choices. Soon, she put the cotton candy back and asked me to carry around a box of watermelon-flavored candies, and then began interrogating me on the flavors of M&Ms in different-colored bags with the shrewd, deliberate confidence of a seasoned consumer out for a bargain. She stared silently at the M&Ms for a minute, and then, in that tiny voice:

"Actually, mommy, you can put the watermelon candies back. I am enjoying exploring my options right now."

A college age gentleman one aisle over finally lost his battle against laughter when he heard that. And I did, too -- I laughed and said, that's wonderful. Exploring your options is a great way to make a choice you'll be happy with. And in the end, we spent ten minutes discussing the merits of every available option in the store and she passed up the hot dogs and candied nuts and beef jerky and chocolate and watermelon candies and strawberry milk and bought the cotton candy and ate the WHOLE BAG and enjoyed every bit.

Next time I buy a car, I want her with me, is what I'm saying. Also, I think I need to chill out in the grocery store.

Why did nobody ever tell me that tea is so much better than coffee? The little cafe near my gym has a blend called "Somali Tea", which is some random black tea with cardamom pods in it, and I drank that with cream while taking the train to work and I felt extremely Right.

--

I am not always a saintly parent. I love Natalie fiercely, but sometimes my patience is short. I snap at her. I have petty arguments about things that don't matter, because I forget that they don't matter. I do things I'm not proud of. It's my job to find the graceful and harmonious way out of a situation, but sometimes I just don't have the tools at hand and things suck. Sometimes things suck a lot. I wish that for just one day I could hear my mother say, oh, honey, it's okay. I did that to you, too. It's okay.

In the meantime, it's really, really good to have a husband who understands, and a child who can say, "I'm sorry, I really wanted to listen but my body wasn't listening to me and I don't know why." Yeah. I've been there. Sometimes I don't know either.

--

Which should I do: 100 days of pictures, with one taken and posted every day, or 60 days of portraits, one posted every day, but with portraits taken in batches? There are benefits and drawbacks to both, from this side; which would be more interesting to see?

Hi! Do you have any recipes that you really prefer to make with lard? Would you share them with me? Right now I plan to make fried eggs and maybe a pie crust, but then what?

I just ate two perfectly boiled eggs. Perfect -- not quite soft-boiled, but with a smooth, slightly gooey yolk, and the firm white of a duck egg. I just peeled them and dipped them in a dish of the good salt and ate them whole, and now I feel full and round and happy in a way I possibly never ever precisely have before.

Need I say more?