Pasta Night

By the time I was 15, I had pretty much taken over dinner preparation for my family on all weekdays but those when I had away games. A number of things contributed to this development-- some of it was a sincere interest in cooking, some of it was a sincere interest in my newly established eating disorder and a lot of it was the simple fact that if I didn't cook dinner, dinner might not get cooked. To make life easier, I imposed a weekly menu pattern that would get food on the table quickly and make sure I didn't run out of key ingredients. Monday was pasta night-- a box of Barilla covered in Classico with fried sausages or meatballs on the side. Tuesday was some kind of chicken or pork chops... baked, grilled, roasted, in pieces or whole. Wednesday was easy... pizza night. The local place gave away a free mini pie with every order (I still have the number memorized. 914-735-1881. Wonder if they're still a pizza place...). Thursday was one of those "just add meat" stir-fry mixes that were new and popular in the 90's and Friday was generally steak (or lamb chops or more chicken) thrown on the grill with veggies and mashed potatoes. Easy. Predictable. Done. 

This past winter we had to fall back on my old patterning strategy. Despite being home all day, I was drowning in the process of cooking dinner 5 nights a week, mostly because I was over-doing and over-thinking it. In our newly established pattern, Monday is still pasta night, and Pizza Night has been moved to Friday. Wednesday is now stir-fry (though we tend to use fresh veggies instead of bagged. Usually.) Tuesday is "Some sort of soup or crockpot or grilled thing" night and Thursday is salad. These are, in part, very strategic. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday we do Family Dinner. We need Pierre to learn to like pasta because it is served in nearly every restaurant of every ethnicity we visit and it would be great if she would learn to eat it. Similarly, stir fry is full of veggies, and we'd like her to learn to eat some of them, even if she is just picking out the carrots. And pizza is a breeze. She'll eat it. Take out or homemade. Easy. 

We've had the most success, so far, introducing Pasta Night. Last Monday she took about 4 bites of the pasta in our Paella. This week we more than doubled that with Chicken Cacciatore Bake. 

(Adapted from Rachel Ray's Chicken Cacciatore Subs- which are also really, REALLY good)

Ingredients
4 pieces boneless skinless chicken breast, 6 to 8 ounces each

Half a box of pasta, cooked (we used Rigatoni)Extra-virgin olive oil, for drizzling, plus 2 tablespoons
Grill seasoning blend, or salt and pepper
2 cloves garlic, cracked away from skins
1 teaspoon red crushed pepper flakes (we omitted this and and added it individually later)
2 large portobello mushroom caps, sliced (we omitted this)
1 green bell pepper, seeded and sliced
1 large onion, white or brown skinned, sliced
1 teaspoon dried oregano, 1/3 palm full
1/2 cup dry red wine or stock -- chicken or beef flavor
1 (14-ounce) can, crushed tomatoes
2 to 3 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley 
1/3 pound deli sliced provolone

Directions
Heat a grill pan or large skillet. Drizzle chicken with oil, to cover,and season with grill seasoning blend or salt and pepper. Grill or pan-fry 6 minutes on each side. Chop into cubes. 

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add 2 tablespoons oil, garlic, crushed red pepper flakes, mushrooms, peppers, onions and oregano. Saute veggies and season with salt and pepper. Cook 5 minutes, then deglaze the pan with wine or stock. Pick up tasty bits off the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon or heat safe spatula. Add tomatoes and parsley to the sauce. Add the chicken and cook about 5 minutes more. 
Turn off heat and mix in cooked pasta. 

Put half the pasta/chicken/veggie/sauce mix in the bottom of a casserole dish. Top with half the provolone. Then add the other half of the pasta/chicken/veggie/sauce mix and top with the rest of the provolone. Bake in a 400 degree oven for a few minutes... we did about 15... until everything is melted together and just a bit brown on top. 

You could also skip the whole baking thing and just serve the sauce over pasta and put some provolone on top. It's cut so thin, it will usually just melt. Or toss it in the microwave. 

Read more at: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/rachael-ray/chicken-cacciatore-subs-recipe/index.html?oc=linkback

The Slinky Man

Night time in my own home generally feels like the least safe time and place on the planet for me. I can't quite pin down why... put me out in the middle of the woods in a flimsy tent with the bears, wolves, coyotes, foxes, spiders, raccoons and other creepy crawlies and I'm fine. Hotels, other people's houses, the back seat of a sedan in the WalMart parking lot-- these are all fine. But my own bed? In my own house? It's like playing Russian roulette.

Primarily because of the Slinky Man.



Who is the Slinky Man? The Slinky Man is the scary, homicidal maniac that might be hiding in my closet or bathtub or crawlspace or under the couch on any given night. He's patient and methodical. He gets his jollys by waiting for his victims to come to him. He sneaks into your house at some point during the day, finds a quiet corner and waits for you to go to bed. Just as you're starting to fall asleep he takes out his Slinky and starts playing with it, letting the metal rings slink back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. You hear it and sit up slightly, wondering what that sound is. It's familiar... you can't quite put your finger on it. A running toilet? Something wrong with the air conditioner? You get out of bed to go investigate and, eventually, you find him. He's dressed in a long gray trench coat and an old fashioned grey rain hat. He's unshaved with a scraggly beard and surprisingly tall. His eyes kinda glow. He allows just enough time for the fear to register fully, for you to try and scream or run before he pulls out a knife, slices you up, and leaves. He might kill you, or he might not. In the morning, if you survived, when they find you, it's just gonna sound like a hallucination. No one's going to believe that the Slinky Man did it.

The Slinky Man, and others like him, keep me up. I can imagine all of the other characters who might have snuck into and hid in my house during the day and are just waiting for me to fall asleep. Several times a week I reevaluate my options for grabbing the sleeping toddler and barricading us all in the bedroom if I hear them coming. Could we move the dresser in front of the door fast enough? Am I positive that the door swings inwards? Would hiding in the bathroom be safer than the hallway, or could a crazy person just burst through the adjoining bathroom wall? How much would it cost to plate one room in Titanium?

I'm pretty sure this has to be some form of PTSD... or the beginnings of a new RL Stein series. Not sure if I need a therapist or an an agent.

Reality TV Stars?

Below-- our application to appear on Animal Planet's "My Cat From Hell".

Meet Cessy, the Feline Formerly Known As Princess. 6 months ago, in January, Cessy joined our family. She was an out-of-luck shelter cat on death row. The shelter she was in was being forced to stop sheltering cats and, since they believed her to be 12 years old and she had already been in the shelter for 3 years, Princess was slated to be put down. Despite already having a toddler (then 2  1/2... now just a few weeks shy of 3), as well as 3 other cats (Lois, Klakky and Mishi), her story touched us and we drove an hour, in the snow, to pick her up and bring her home. We were promised a sweet, docile, elderly couch-lump and we almost felt more like we were signing up to provide retirement home care.

Well.... she is sweet. She's not 12 (closer to 8, according to our vet). She's not docile--she LOVES her humans but immediately went all "Single White Female" on Lois- more on that later. And she's only a couch lump to the extent that any cat is a couch lump. Cessy is an avid and vicious toy-mousie huntress and she starts most mornings with a rapid fire, up and down the stairs, across the living room, up the wall, through the house burst of calisthenics. She would like to be a lap cat, but tensions around here generally run too high now for her to relax that much.

Before we took Cessy in we had minimal cat problems. They weren't great sleepers. They knocked stuff down in the middle of the night. Mishi has a particular vendetta against water glasses. Lois will make sure we have NOTHING (and I mean NOTHING) on our dresser at 2 AM. Klakky appears to have sudden flashbacks to her days in 'Nam at all odd hours. But otherwise, fine. They're cats.

Lois was the first cat we got. She's currently about 9 and we got her from a shelter when she was an older kitten/young cat. She had a cold the day we picked her up, and the stitching on her spay job had been botched. She was the last of her littler and we took her home to our 700 square foot apartment. She was never a good sleeper and locking her out of the bedroom did little-- she'd cry and scratch at the door. Eventually she settled in, but she never seemed "quite right". If she was a child, we suspect  she would be labeled with high functioning autism and given a 1:1 para (Julie and I are both teachers). Lois often gets lost in her own house, forgets what she was doing and gives you the most awesome blank stare. She also has some of the best survival instincts of our cats-- she knows instinctually when the heaters go on and where to curl up by them, if someone is cooking a steak, tuna or chicken and where we have hidden the latest shipment of dry cat food. She is usually very friendly with other cats. She will sit at our back door and make eyes at the local strays (who come up to the door and make eyes at her) where the other cats puff their tails and hiss. Lois is a rather long haired Tuxedo cat. She's rather overweight.

Then we moved to a 2 bedroom condo and took in Klakky. Klakky was Julie's cousin's cat- also a shelter cat. Klakky had lived with Julie's cousin, Eddie, and had a litter-mate sibling named Tangerine. Sadly, Eddie discovered that he was very allergic to cats and, after trying for awhile to live with it, returned Klakky and Tangerine to the shelter. Tangerine never transitioned back into the shelter and went on hunger strike-- he died not long after being sent back. He also had cancer. Klakky then became depressed at the shelter and also refused food. The shelter contacted Eddie and he took Klakky back and we agreed to take her from him as son as we could. Klakky is a "senior" cat in the realm of 11. She's pretty spry and is generally "top cat," but never really uses her authority. Klakky is a nearly-toothless tortie. She's also kind of overweight.

Mishi is the baby. Well, the feline baby. 3 days into my pregnancy, we were at a Farmer's Market and there were teenagers with a laundry basket full of kittens. I fell in love with the the little calico and took her home. She went into heat just a few days after we got her home and was then properly fixed. Mishi is a little ball buster who still nurses off her forearm (her mother was hit by a car and one of her siblings was eaten by a dog), tries to spoon with you at night, bats at your face all night long and sometimes annoys her older sisters. She gets violently angry with the other two cats whenever they have been taken to the vet and is big into hissing. She is also very sweet, but still all kitten. Mishi will be 4 this summer and is still a big kitten in a lot of ways. She's a calico/tortie and very small for a full grown cat. She's pretty average weight.

Though she's not a cat, I'll give some background on Mickey, our toddler, too. She thinks she's a cat. Cat was her first word. When she gets really angry, she hisses. Mickey is amazing with the cats- for a toddler. She loves them, and they love her. Mishi sleeps in her room often, and we call Klakky the "Nanny Cat". Klakky will go into Mickey's room and calm her down when she won't go to sleep at night. Klakky will let Mickey pet her head and ears until she falls asleep, and then will curl up next to Mickey on her pillow. In fact, Klakky loves Mickey so much that she sometimes wakes her up in the middle of the night with excessive love (we had to lock her out of the room for awhile). Mickey loves her kitties a lot and talks about them all the time. She knows how to be gentle (before we got Cessy, the house rule was pretty much that if Mickey got scratched, SHE got a time out, because she must have been too rough- our cats are extremely gentle with her and patient) and very rarely gets over excited or aggressive with them. The cats have many high-up places to hide, and she knows she can't climb up after them. Getting their bowls for feeding them, brushing them, giving them treats... she helps care for them. The only cat who scratches her is Cessy. Much of the time Cessy tolerates some gentle love from Mickey before just waking away. But, if we're within an hour of feeding time, and Mickey happens to walk by her, Cessy will reach out and scratch her. Just, it seems, to drive home the point that she's hungry. Right now Mickey has healing scratches on her arms and legs for merely walking by. She has learned that Cessy is a "no petting kitty" and shies away from her now. She calls her "The Scratching Kitty" and has even learned to yell at her, "No Aggressing on Lois!"

So on to our current problems.

We brought Cessy home and introduced her slowly to the house and the other cats. She spent her first few days completely confined to an upstairs bathroom. Not terribly spacious, but much better than the small cage she lived in. We swapped scents with the other cats (blankets, toys, towels) and our veteran cats were pretty used to this situation. We started giving the girls treats on opposite sides of the doors. We let Cessy explore the upstairs a little bit when we knew that everyone else was downstairs. A few small interactions... some line of sight... we pretty much did it the introduction slowly over the course of a month. For quite awhile we would let Cessy have the run of the house all day until we left, and then lock her up, (with food, water and litter) in the master bedroom/bathroom suite. Klakky and Lois, initially, seemed to accept her, and Mishi just couldn't handle it. She would hiss angrily at Cessy every time she walked by or looked in her direction. We figured it was a "pecking order" thing and tried to help ease it, in addition to giving it time and extra supervision. While Mishi was constantly informing Cessy, "I HATE YOU", Cessy was quietly trying to drive Lois out. It started very quietly, but we noticed that Cessy was slowly taking over every spot in the house that Lois liked. Then she started stalking Lois around the house. Trapping her in corners and in the littler box (we have two boxes. Despite the second one being available, no cat really uses it. They actually wait in line for the same box. We have tried to encourage them to use the second box, but they don't want to. We have even tried other kinds of boxes, but no luck), stealing her favorite window perch, then her favorite chair. Lois in non-confrontational, so she would just run away. Eventually she stopped going upstairs at all and began spending her entire days in a single chair- leaving only to drink, eat and use the litter box.

Then she stopped eating entirely and that is unlike Lois. And having terrible diarrhea several times a day.   We took her to the vet and they said she was fine. Give it a week. A week turned into 2. We could get her to eat more, but she was still having diarrhea. Lois is such a creature of habit that, when we changed her food, she wouldn't eat it. A lot of experimentation finally found a food that she would try and the diarrhea stopped. The vet thinks that the stress from Cessy triggered an allergy to her usual food.

Lois is not free to move around the house at all. None of the cats gets along with Cessy. Mishi jumps to Lois's defense and has been involved in several violent altercations with Cessy on Lois's behalf (recently she tore Cessy's ear and I didn't realize it. We separated the cats and locked Cessy in a bathroom, only to come back and find every ear-level surface in the bathroom streaked with blood.) Lois just tries to run away and hide. She has begun living on top of the kitchen cabinets, but two nights ago Cessy discovered that she could get up there and we had to get up 5 separate times to try and get her down (Lois would start hissing loudly, Cessy would growl and scream, we'd come running with a spray bottle, aiming 3 feet over our heads-- if a brawl happens up there, I have no idea how anyone would get down. Cessy blocks the only means of egress). We have started having to lock Cessy up again when we leave the house and overnight. Klakky doesn't like her, but they haven't had any run-ins either. No one messes with the Klakk.

What makes this odd is that they can all eat together-- within inches, if necessary. Sometimes they can play in the same vicinity (they all love the laser pointer and will play within feet of one another, but not with each other). (In the pictures below, taken while I'm typing this, you can see all 4 cats. Lois is on top of the fridge. Mishi is standing in the kitchen. Cessy is lying on the floor, close to the kitchen entryway, Klakky is off to the side, on her back. Note that Cessy and Lois are facing each other and staring at each other. In the second picture, our toddler has joined them and Mishi has walked from the kitchen into the living room.) It will seem like things are getting better for a day or so, and then there will be an all out attack or Cessy will find a new way to corner Lois and it will get worse in a whole new way. We're teachers and have lots of plans for the summer, but we have no idea how we can possibly leave the house for a week at a time. We fear that, without monitoring (I work from home right now, so I can keep an eye on things), Lois will be bullied beyond what she can handle. While a good friend has pet-sat in the past, we're at the point where we don't think that twice a day visits will do it and we can't afford to pay someone to stay here while we're gone. We don't think that locking Cessy in one room for a week is right either, as it stresses the other cats out when she is locked up and they spend their time outside the door where she is locked. Lois doesn't seem able to defend herself, Mishi is overzealous in her defense of Lois and Klakky just can't be bothered to get involved.

6 months in and we have tried desperately to find a new home for Cessy, but, because we suspect she needs to be an "only cat" we can't find anyone who loves cats enough (and doesn't already have several) to take her. Cessy is a lovely cat with humans. Everyone who comes to visit gets ample love from her, but she is making life miserable for us and for her feline sisters. We worry that, by saving her life, we have ruined Lois's, and Lois is the cat that we have had the longest. We have consulted with "cat therapist" over the phone, advertised her story on social media and hit up everyone we can think of who would like a cat. We have tried positive reinforcement and timeouts. We have tried to up the amount of playtime, but Cessy will break up the game by attacking the other cats instead of the toy (Mishi, Lois and Klakky might be tag teaming a red dot, and Cessy will walk up to Lois and hit her, and then Mishi will attack Cessy and Lois will go hide on top of the fridge). We are starting to fear that returning her to the shelter is our only option. It would break our hearts- and we'd pick a no-kill shelter- but we're out of ideas. Help!!

Mexican Lasagna

Tonight's not a "Family Dinner" night... it's actually going to be a "Garfield eats dinner in the car between a friend's house and the gym nursery" night... but I'm super excited about MY dinner and figured I'd share. This has been a household go-to recipe for at least 10 years and it has NEVER failed us. It is super easy to put together many hours before you plan on eating it and cooks up in just abou15 minutes in the oven. It is very forgiving-- you can mix in anything you have on hand and, as long as you use some kind of ground meat, "mexican" seasonings, tortillas, cheese and beans, the sky is the limit. We've used taco sauce, a jar of salsa, a packet of taco seasoning or fajita seasoning.... I've used extra beans, extra veggies, no beans, no veggies... You could probably even use the same kinda recipe with a jar of tomato sauce, some large flat noodles and mozzarella cheese!

(stolen from Rachel Ray)

Mexican Lasagna

Ingredients
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 pounds ground chicken breast, available in the packaged meats case
2 tablespoons chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 red onion, chopped
1 (15-ounce) can black beans, drained
1 cup medium heat taco sauce or 1 (14-oz) can stewed or fire roasted tomatoes
1 cup frozen corn kernels
Salt
8 (8 inch) spinach flour tortillas, available on dairy aisle of market
2 1/2 cups shredded Cheddar or shredded pepper jack
2 scallions, finely chopped
Directions
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Preheat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil - twice around the pan. Add chicken and season with chili powder, cumin, and red onion. Brown the meat, 5 minutes. Add taco sauce or stewed or fire roasted tomatoes. Add black beans and corn. Heat the mixture through, 2 to 3 minutes then season with salt, to your taste.

Coat a shallow baking dish with remaining extra-virgin olive oil, about 1 tablespoon oil. Cut the tortillas in half or quarters to make them easy to layer with. Build lasagna in layers of meat and beans, then tortillas, then cheese. Repeat: meat, tortilla, cheese again. Bake lasagna 12 to 15 minutes until cheese is brown and bubbly. Top with the scallions and serve.

Read more at: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/rachael-ray/mexican-lasagna-recipe/index.html?oc=linkback

Family Dinner

At some point in her early eating career, Froggy turned picky. We have no idea how it happened. She started solids at some point between 4 and 5 months (she was interested, capable and raring to have a go at it) and was not limited to bland foods (watermelon licks, split pea broth, spiced pears, etc). At one she was eating eggs with habanero cheese, pesto, soup broths and paneer tikka masala. And then, bit by bit, foods were phased out until she was down to a small list of acceptable nums (yogurt, dry cereal, oatmeal, pancakes, peanut butter and jelly, pita bread and taziki sauce, meatballs, and all manner of salty, sweet and "bad"-for-you snack foods). We would constantly introduce new foods, constantly give her tastes of whatever we were eating, constantly cajole, beg and bribe her to try something... just LICK it, for goodness sake! This limited food plan was killing us because we are crazy adventurous eaters- there's just about nothing I wouldn't be willing to taste once (hell, my uncle showed up at a family party with homemade Beaver Stew one day and I shrugged and took a bite). We enjoy trying new restaurants and new recipes- cooking is one of the primary hobbies in our house.

We know we are at least partially to blame. 2 nights a week Froggy eats dinner at her grandparents' house, so on Tuesday and Thursday her dinners have to be compact, easy to travel with, sure fire meals because if she doesn't eat her dinner her grandparents will happily let her fill up on whatever she asks for in exchange (Cheese puffs? Sure. Lollipops? Why not.) Fridays is pizza night- a food that she enjoys- and the other 4 days we contributed to the problem by feeding her around 6, putting her to bed around 7 and then settling in for a quiet, relaxed, child-free dinner around 8. But as Froggy approaches 3, we are realizing we have to take the bull by the horns (the toddler by the fork?) and deal with this head on. Thus, we have instituted Family Dinner.

Family Dinner is, currently, about as painful and formidable as it sounds. On Monday, Wednesday, Friday (which is easy), and at least one weekend day we now involve Froggy in the preparation of the meal, help her set the table, put all of the food out family style (which creates SO MANY more dishes to do later) and eat together. Or, at least, Julie and I eat together and watch Froggy devour half a loaf of bread or a nearly unhealthy number of carrot sticks (we try to have something on the table that is on her "yes" list but not overly exciting). Between bites we wheel and deal to get a few morsels of whatever we are eating into her mouth (we insist that she be polite and taste something new- if she spits it out, she has to taste something else. In the end, SOMETHING has to make it to the esophagus) in hopes that repeated exposure will convince her that we are not trying to poison her on a daily basis.

We've been at it for a little over a week.

Tonight we decided on Mark Bittman's Paella with Pasta. It is quick, easy and not outrageously adventurous in terms of a flavor profile. Even better- it provides and AWESOME opportunity for a toddler to help in the kitchen. One of the ingredients is spaghetti broken into 2 inch pieces

Froggy breaking 8 oz of pasta into teeny tiny pieces- kept her busy while I did everything else!

After breaking up the pasta and helping cut the red peppers with a pumpkin carving knife (that was pretty much ineffectual- I think I'm just gonna give her a pairing knife and keep bandaids handy), Froggy went off to play until Mommy got home for Family Dinner.

I kinda wish I was writing to report that our less-than-two-week effort at turning our toddler into a foodie was a blinding success and I'm now ready to pen my own authoritative tome on the topic. Froggy ate 1 3/4 slices of buttered whole wheat toast, 4 or 5 pieces of broken spaghetti, a few nibbles of a shrimp and a single green pea. At some point Julie realized that the glass fish in our candle could be used as a bribe, ABA style to get her to taste small bites ("Eat one piece of pasta and you can have all of the red fishes. Just one. Use your fork. OK, if it won't stay on the fork, use your fingers. Not a bite, a whole piece. Don't spit it into your hand. Put it back in your mouth. Chew. Chew. CHEW. Good... just swallow it and you can have the fish.") From the picture below you can see that she ate about 5 or 6 individual pieces of food- one for each color catagory. We are hoping to one day whittle it down to a fish for each bite. But hey--- she nibbled a shrimp?

Below is the recipe we used. It came out pretty tasty. I added about a tablespoon of hot sauce (to my own portion) and used A LOT more water than it called for when cooking.

Paella with noodles

Mark Bittman

Ingredients

• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• 8 ounces any long, thin pasta, preferably whole wheat, broken into 2-inch or shorter lengths
• Salt and black pepper
• 1⁄2 teaspoon saffron threads, optional
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 2 cups fresh or frozen peas
• 1 bell pepper, chopped
• 1⁄2 cup water or stock, plus more as needed
• 8 ounces scallops, squid, clams, mussels, or shrimp, or a combination
• 1⁄4 cup chopped fresh parsley, for garnish
• Lemon wedges

Preparation

1. Put the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When it's hot, add the onion and garlic and cook, stirring, until they begin to soften, 3 to 5 minutes; remove from the pan with a slotted spoon. Add the noodles to the pan, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring constantly, until they brown (try not to let them blacken).

2. Return the onion and garlic to the pan and add the saffron, paprika, peas and bell pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, for 2 to 3 minutes more. Add the water and cook, stirring and adding more liquid if things start to stick, until the noodles are nearly tender and everything is just starting to dry out, about 15 minutes.

3. Stir in the seafood and cook, stirring occasionally and adding a little more water or stock if you like, until it is just cooked through (large shrimp and scallops will take about 5 minutes; small or chopped shrimp about 3 minutes; squid no more than 1 minute). Taste and adjust the seasoning. Stir in the parsley and serve with the lemon wedges.

It wasn't coffee

For me, one of the hardest parts of writing is deciding where a story started. Take this morning, for example. It would be simplest to say that I ended up licking cat blood off of my arm because of a cat fight that took place at 6:40 AM... but I don't feel like that tells the whole story, or even a significant part of it. Because, normally, I don't lick strange substances off of my own arm... so I need to back up and explain why I was unusually tired this morning and in a state where licking a strange brownish substance off my own forearm seemed logical.

So I'd go backwards and start the story last night around 10:30 when I got a text message from my sister in Nashville and decided to get up and call/text with her rather than sleeping--- which meant I didn't fall asleep until after midnight.

But that doesn't quite do it either, because the fact that I heard her 10:30 text is a bit of an anomaly, 'cause my phone was accidentally set on vibrate and, normally, I'm asleep WAY before 10:30 and I wouldn't have heard my phone.

So I take a step back and explain that I was up so late because of the FedEx man. Julie and I purchased a Groupon for $150 worth of wine for only $53 bucks- a fantastic and delicious deal. We'd been tracking our wine all day (nope... no problems here!) and knew that it was supposed to be delivered that day. In the past (because we often have wine delivered...) they have just left it on the doorstep, despite the fact that they are supposed to have a signature, but we still were anxious that they'd take our wine back and not deliver it. When we got home from the gym around 7 and there was still no wine, we decided not to worry about it and wait for the morning. Which is why we were a bit surprised when the FedEx guy showed up with 3 giant boxes (2 Pampered Chef and one wine) just a few minutes before 10. He didn't ring the doorbell, but I had heard/seen his truck and headed down the stairs. He left the first box and went back to the truck and, while he was away, I grabbed the box and brought it inside. Didn't turn on the porch light or anything. That's when I realized that he was coming back with a second box and was probably going to notice that the first giant box had disappeared. So I did what any self respecting adult would do and waited for him to leave the second box, slightly confused, and grabbed it the minute his back was turned. Which was, of course, when we realized that he was coming back to the door a 3rd time. The final trip brought our wine and we turned on the light and signed for it (dude thought we were nuts). And then went to bed.

But that doesn't quite do it either, because I would not normally have seen the Fed Ex truck pull up at 10 o'clock at night, had I not been in M's room trying to get her to wake up enough to drink a glass of water. I would have been asleep.

So I take a step back and explain that M fell asleep in the car on the way home from the gym today, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When we go to evening classes, we usually leave her and her dinner with her grandparents just around the corner from the gym. Normally they give her her dinner, play with her a bit and let her watch TV while we are tortured for an hour. Yesterday, however, was the first day that the pool in their development was open, so her Papa took her swimming instead of feeding her. Which is why she was eating her dinner in the car on the way home at 7 PM when she fell asleep. With part of the sandwich still in her mouth. Which is why I was in her bedroom at 10 trying to get her to drink water because, while I'm pretty sure she had swallowed it by then, I was having mini panic attacks about her choking. Which is why I heard the FedEx guy. Which is why I was still awake when C texted me. Which is why I was able to talk with her for a few hours last night. Which is why I got less than 5 hours of sleep. Which is why I was exceptionally tired this morning. Which is why I needed my coffee. Badly. Which is why I was showing such poor decision making skills in licking up (what I believed to be) every last drop of coffee that I could. Which is why I now know that cat blood and human blood are indistinguishable on the palate.

So in the end, it looks like I can blame my in-laws for this one.

Picking myself up and dusting myself off...

So much for a post a day, right? Revised purpose of this blog... to post stuff occasionally. I tried. Life did not see fit to furnish me with that much uninterrupted time on a daily basis.

What brings me back today is Pierre's current obsession with puppets. For the record, I don't like puppets. Blame it on too many Chucky movies as a kid or that RL Stein book about the puppet that keeps coming back to life or my failed attempt at being a ventriloquist when I was 9 or the fact that I just flat out suck at doing voices unless I'm reading a story... whatever works. But Pierre currently LOVES puppets and our family has been more than happy to indulge her iterest. It started around Christmas when she got a beautiful set of finger puppets from Aunt R. Two of them struck an immediate chord with her- King Lion and Queen Elephant. She just wanted them to talk to each other while she listened. Didn't matter what they talked about, so long as they did it in a British accent. Several times a week she would pull them out and insist that I make them talk and I would manage to play for a few minutes before wandering off to unload the dishwasher or schedule an elective root canal. (Julie, on the other hand, is an AWESOME puppet player and loves this new development!) Then, about a month ago, my MIL bestowed upon us a collection of Disney puppets (Mickey x 2, Minnie and Goofy) from Julie's childhood. Suddenly, everything had to be done through Mickey- it was like Pierre had hired her own personal bodyguard/secretary/bouncer to deal with me.

"Pierre! Your lunch is ready!"
"Tell it to Mickey!"
"Pierre! Time for school!"
"Tell it to Mickey!"
"Pierre! Clean this up!"
"Mickey will do it!"

Just as I got used to spending hours a day with my hand up Mickey's ass, talking in a squeaky voice, a package arrived from Aunt C.

Any guesses?

A puppet, you say?

Well yes! A puppet indeed. A large pirate puppet with a stick to help him move his hand and gesture as he talks. A puppet that struck just a wee bit of fear in Pierre's heart and garnered immediate respect. On the first day she would not touch the puppet, but wanted to talk to it, warily, from a distance while Julie brought him to life. If she misbehaved, we would threaten to tell the pirate and she would lose it. This seemed like a puppet scenario I could deal with. Then, midway through the pirate's first day in our house, we struck gold. For some reason we're still not clear on, Pierre decided that should could impress the pirate by peeing on the toilet without having to be told (she's been potty trained for over a year, but seldom goes spontaneously. We always have to drag her there and put her on the toilet.) The moment she was done she insisted Julie animate the puppet so she could tell him that she had peed. And the pirate praised her to high heavens. And then this became a thing. For days she has been going to the toilet on her own and then running to the pirate for praise. We don't know why, but the pirate did it. He finally got Pierre to notice when she has to use the bathroom. We'll never quite understand this, but we are incredibly grateful to him. (We'll also never understand why Pierre occasionally taunts the pirate by pointing out quite smugly that he has no feet.  It's a complex relationship.)

Today Pierre has been unusually intense about the puppets and has been introducing them all to one another. Mickey, meet King Lion. King Lion, this is the Pirate. Pirate, meet Minnie. Seal, this is Giraffe. At some point, my brain started to go numb. That was when Goofy noticed Dudly.