The thing that’s the real pits about having a nearly perfect baby is that they trick you into thinking you’re an AWESOME parent. Every article (okay, blog post) I read prior to giving birth made reference to doubting yourself as a mother multiple times a day and feeling like a failure. Well, um, I never experienced that. Nora Beth basically made me feel like the most incredible mother that ever lived (outside of the burnt scalp and elbow to the face). I was cruising. Until Friday. When I decided to go ahead and fix our ain’t broke system of putting the infant seat in the cart at Target.
This trip, though, oh, this trip, I decided to strap her in the Moby wrap. With a good 30 minutes until her next feeding and with her mostly asleep, there was plenty of time to cruise the aisles, find the proper coupons, grab a Diet Dr. Pepper and skeedaddle. Except when you give a baby a Moby wrap, she may ask you for a glass of milk… and she did. She started to stir. She started to bob. She started to discuss the situation with me. She started to meltdown. All the while I was still convinced that we could do this. Rivaling a Jon Cleese Silly Walk I sped through each aisle, one hand on cart, one hand on baby, walking, patting, bobbing, swaying, all simulataneously. To say I was undulating attractively would be hyperbolizing even the most basic euphemism.
Finally, I was bested. I took my cart and beelined for the rest where I proceeded to feed her atop a public toilet. Only then did I remember that I had not brought my diaper bag in, because, you know, there wasn’t going to be a need for it. So as she became a geyser of spit up, my only weapon was single ply toilet paper. It stuck to her chin in the most adorable of ways (which is to say, not adorably at all) while absorbing approximately zero ounces of regurgitated food. WIth a fully soaked outfit, I then realized that there was no spare in the car. Luckily, Target had a fully stocked baby wardrobe, so with a saturated baby now leaving a lovely infant-sized puddle on my own shirt, I shoved a couple of paper towels down my front (they scratched her face nicely), we chose a new frock, paid (with coupons! Never fear!), got all nekkid in the backseat, allowed our cart to roll away and hit a neighboring vehicle, put on a new outfit and promptly fell asleep (her) and freebased that icy DDP (me). Yes I am available for parenting seminars.
Here’s what we’re eating this week!
Week of February 8th:
Samosa Pie – An always and forever favorite, I use ground lamb and a hefty dose of extra salt. Pictured above.
Ranch House Crockpot Pork – The recipe calls for pork chops, but I was pleased with neither the size nor the price of those available at the grocery store, so I picked up boneless pork ribs instead, and I’m pretty sure they’ll be just as tasty. This is The. Easiest. Recipe. intheworld. 3 ingredients. Hey-o!
Bruschetta Chicken – I made this over the weekend to take to my in-laws’ house for my mother-in-law’s birthday dinner. I turned it more into Caprese Chicken by baking it for 30 minutes, topping each breast with a slice of fresh mozzarella and broiling it for 5 minutes. I topped each serving with a drizzle of reduced balsamic. I was really pleased with the end result. Davey the Hubbers suggested nixing the mushrooms for the next go round, and I don’t disagree with that.
Barbecue Chicken Quinoa Salad – I love this salad, and I always forget about it. But I remembered this week, and I’m gonna the shiz out of it. Davey doesn’t like quinoa, so this will be a lunch special for me.