My sister, D., and I have a long-standing joke between us, knocked off from both “The Simpsons” and popular culture at large; whenever something happens in life that baffles us completely, we tend to say “Who put who in the
Category: Veggies
Our kids’ preschool program has a lovely secure members’ page online, where they not only have access to a webcam so you can check on your kids during the day (a very cool bonus, though I don’t often use it),
Yesterday, as I wrote grimly about the lapse in judgment that led J. and me to a processed food coma, and the better head that prevailed when I redeemed myself by creating the soft pretzels that are tucked safely into
Three things arrived this weekend at the RRG household: Football season, official Fall weather, and molars. P. is a terrible teether — a late teether, a fussy teether, and a teether who has probably been voted by his daycare classmates
I’m feeling a little off-balance today, not in a bad way, but in that “I’ve got houseguests” kind of way. It’s a mixture of happiness that they’re here, appreciation for their help, relief that my boys get to go on
Yesterday was quite a food day in our house, but as often happens, the most interesting/enjoyable food experiences sprang from the simplest of ingredients and ideas. To quickly update for those who read yesterday’s post and are wondering how my
I spend a lot of time talking to my sister, D. I’m sure lots of grown women with sisters are out there going “Yeah, me too, so what?” But I mean — I spend a LOT of time talking to
So far, I’ve written quite a bit about interacting with my older child, L., about food and eating. It’s natural, I think — he’s of just the age to be really developing his own palate, asserting his independence, and making
Last night, things in our house went just about the same way they always do on a hectic weeknight. Nearly-4-year-old L. perched on a bar stool in the kitchen, helping me knead, stretch, and pound balls of pizza dough into
4-year-olds have a funny way of taking over and upsetting any “plans” you think you’ve made. In this case, my 4-year-old son, L., received last night’s “Crockpot Chicken Curry Thing” experiment with a sort of lukewarm skepticism. For the record,