screw you, hippie!

this weekend we had a bbq with some of our new parent friends. there were 10 adults, 3 infants under 3 months, 1 child and 3 dogs. it went fairly well, but i will say that it is almost impossible to hold a conversation with someone when you're trying to juggle dog and baby, make sure everyone has enough drink, and there's food ready for the grill...quite chaotic. it was a bit of an experiment for us, since for the last 4-5 months, we've been less than the social butterflies we used to be. i think we did ok, although we were exhausted when the whole thing ended (at 8pm...oi, so early).
as mister irving and i sat around that evening, dreading the coming clean up, we revisited some of the open ended conversations we had.
we realized from talking out loud about some of the things that we do in our everyday life now that we're much crunchier parents than we ever thought we would be. we had a natural childbirth in a birth center that looked like an antique b&b; we prepared for that childbirth by studying hypnosis techniques and meditation; we use cloth diapers; we co-sleep; we're making our household 'green' in as many ways as we can (reduce, reuse, recycle); ernie takes yoga classes at the local buddhist temple; ernie has acupuncture therapy; i actively meditate when i breastfeed; our dog is a rescue pup; and on and on...
we've seriously been considering moving to the mountains and becoming a completely sustainable vegetarian household...
and yet, we scoff at the idea of being compared to crunchy hippie types. scoff!

martyrdom

when you become new parents, there is one question that you are asked each and every time you come into a conversation with an old friend who doesn't have kids...and that is, "do you feel like you're missing out?"
i have a lot of time to think about this question, as i am a 'stay at home mom' (i kind of hate that moniker, but for lack of something better, there it is)...for the past two and a half months, i've pretty much done one of these things, 1. sat in a chair, breastfed, lived vicariously through the new yorker 2. washed laundry every day 3. tried to keep dog hair off of everything the baby owns 4. watched lots and lots of awful television while breastfeeding. 5. made funny faces, noises, etc, etc, to make harlan giggle out loud.
i mean, i've 'really' had time to think about it. and honestly, i don't really miss much. but, while we're being honest, i'll say the one thing i miss the most is live music. i miss going to see bands play, whether they suck or are great, i just really miss going out to see music.
there is something absolutely cleansing about going to see live music. i know, it won't be long before i'll be back out there at shows, harping on this or that, smugly criticizing the band i'm watching for being dull or sounding too much like t-rex, or just standing against the wall with my arms crossed and a furrowed brow while someone completely impresses me...but right now, i do miss it.

it's probably going to suck for harlan when his mom comes to hang out with him to watch his favorite band. poor guy.

mom

"Contrary to popular belief, Mother's Day was not conceived and fine-tuned in the boardroom of Hallmark. The earliest tributes to mothers date back to the annual spring festival the Greeks dedicated to Rhea, the mother of many deities, and to the offerings ancient Romans made to their Great Mother of Gods, Cybele. Christians celebrated this festival on the fourth Sunday in Lent in honor of Mary, mother of Christ. In England this holiday was expanded to include all mothers and was called Mothering Sunday.
In the United States, Mother's Day started nearly 150 years ago, when Anna Jarvis, an Appalachian homemaker, organized a day to raise awareness of poor health conditions in her community, a cause she believed would be best advocated by mothers. She called it "Mother's Work Day."
Fifteen years later, Julia Ward Howe, a Boston poet, pacifist, suffragist, and author of the lyrics to the "Battle Hymn of the Republic," organized a day encouraging mothers to rally for peace, since she believed they bore the loss of human life more harshly than anyone else.
In 1905 when Anna Jarvis died, her daughter, also named Anna, began a campaign to memorialize the life work of her mother. Legend has it that young Anna remembered a Sunday school lesson that her mother gave in which she said, "I hope and pray that someone, sometime, will found a memorial mother's day. There are many days for men, but none for mothers."

if nothing else, give your mom a call...now knowing how childbirth feels, believe me, she deserves at least a phone call.

more charming than cary grant...

not sure who won, but the pie was great

saturday was the ky derby, and it also happen to be mister irving's birthday. the day before, he had mentioned that he wanted nothing more for his birthday than a cold mint julep and some derby pie (since he had never partook of either). even though the weather wasn't cooperating that day, we had a fine time sitting in the back yard grilling and watching the baby giggle every time the wind blew across his little face. and the pie was lovely.

derby pie
1 cup chocolate chips (ghiradella rec.)
1 cup pecans
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
1 stick butter, melted and cooled
1/2 cup flour
1 tsp. vanilla
1/4 cup KY bourbon (maker's mark or finer)

mix sugar and flour. add eggs, then butter. add pecans and chocolate chips, vanilla and whisky. pour into unbaked pie shell. bake for 35 mins. at 350 degrees. pie should be thick, and mushy.
(also, if your pie doesn't taste strongly like bourbon, you've pissed off the pie gods..and other gods, i'm sure)