A Cultural Heritage Dish

Next week the girls' school is hosting a school-wide potluck. I have 2 issues with this.

First of all, I personally have forgotten how to cook anything interesting or fancy that I would be proud to share with people outside our immediate family (excluding the holiday staples-- I have those down). During the work week, if it takes more than 30 minutes to cook, it is off the menu for dinner. That limits us to about 4 different meals, and leftovers, repeats, or take out the rest of the week. I am sure there are other options that if I got efficient enough at cooking, would also be less than 30 minutes. The problem there, is that it would require enough practice to get it under 30 minutes, which implies there would be some first attempts where it would exceed the time threshold. Did I also mention our meal must be gluten free or have a gluten free alternative unless unspoken allergy sufferer is feeling good and is willing to suffer whatever consequences there might be? That greatly reduces the options.

Secondly, the potluck announcement flyer says "Bring a dish that represents your family's cultural heritage!" Are you sure about that? Let's see... what would really represent my family's cultural heritage?

• Pinto beans and cornbread
• Tomato (mater) soup and saltines and/or cornbread
• Biscuits and tomato gravy and/or molasses and butter
• Cornbread and milk
• The old faithful -- spinach casserole

And on Kevin's side, the one recipe I have from his mom is.... cornbread. (Sorry, I am not frying chicken, I don't care how good it is.)

Now don't get me wrong-- I love my cultural heritage and I love every item on that list, but I am not sure other participants attending the potluck would appreciate a plate of biscuits and gravy, or a pan of cornbread, which seems to be the dominant theme above. And I have already played the spinach casserole card.

So what's a girl to do? Maybe it's time for some Holiday Cake.

Stick-Out Booty

We were fortunate enough to have our first conversation with Leila the other night about how boys and girls are different. (Bath time is so adventurous.)
Leila: Why don't boys have to sit down to go potty?
Kevin: Well they do when they go poop (nice evasion, Kevin).
L: But when they go pee they don't.
K: Well, boys are able to aim where they want their pee to go. Girls can't.
L: Why?
M: Well, because girls don't have a pointy pee pee.
L: Oh, because they don't have a stick-out booty?

First Bubbles

One of the joys of being a parent is to witness and experience "firsts", be it their first birthday party, first Christmas, first lost tooth (not yet). I was able to witness Sabina's first bubbles. I was giving her a bath, and watched as Sabina looked down into the water, created a lurching sound with her bottom, followed by several bubbles trickling up to the surface. She looked at me and grinned in disbelief, and proceeded to do it again. And then again. I began looking for floaters but fortunately, nothing. Harmless entertainment. Ah, the joys of being a parent.

Leila Gymnast

The honeymoon is over with ballet, for both Leila and myself. Leila decided she liked tumbling better, and I have gained a new perspective on ballet class, which I am sure is very similar to the perspective my parents had when I took ballet.

We arrive to the studio to see flyers posted everywhere stating that "Today is the last day to place orders for gala costumes." So I inquire to see if the pre-school classes participate, which they do, and I prepare to place my order. $80. For a leotard and tutu. For a 4 year old. I am then handed a packet of instructions on how to apply makeup, to my 4 year old, and how ballet shoes must not look worn, otherwise new ones should be purchased. And an announcement would come later on when tickets would be available and how much. For a 30 minute performance, for the parents of her class. Just a little bit of overkill, I think.

Fortunately, on the drive home, Leila admitted that she would rather do tumbling. I was almost relieved, except for the $80 that I had just dropped for the "gala". Sheepishly I called the administrative assistant when I got home, the one that I had spoken with several times when Leila was on the wait list, and then when there was finally an opening, and then to coordinate enrollment. She was kind enough to void the tutu payment.

At the gymnastics center, there is no recital. And you can buy a gently used leotard for $12. And they know how to throw one hell of a birthday party for a 4 year old.

Teeth

On Thursday, the oldest son of one of my coworkers swallowed some blue chemical in a test tube left over from one of his parents' high school chemistry classes. The whole family spent the afternoon in the emergency room while they monitored the boy to make sure he wouldn't have any reaction to it. It turned out to be some relatively harmless copper solution and the boy was fine.

I relayed the story to Kevin that evening and we both shook our heads in empathy to what the parents must have been going through. Later that night, as Sabina was climbing the stairs to her room, we noticed she had a funny expression on her face, like she had a large yet swallowable object in her mouth. "Sabina, do you have something in your mouth?", both of us looking at her very concerned/panicked. She looked at us solemnly, and nodded her head. "What's in your mouth?", more panicked.

"Teeth," she said.

Leila Ballerina

Yesterday Leila had her first ballerina class. Although the studio she attended is a bigger and obviously newer than the Sharon Long studio in Tupelo, it brought back a rush of memories of when I took ballet. The hours of practice, the generic classical piano music that we did exercises over and over to. The multitudes of leotards and tights, the blue to black toenails from marching in pointe shoes, the goofing around with my friends during breaks. The performances, and the flowers afterward (thanks Mom and Dad). Even though I stopped my sophomore year in high school, ballet was something that was my very own, it was and still is a part of me, and I am so glad for that experience. Even if it isn't ballet, I hope both Leila and Sabina each find something that they feel the same way about.

Our New House!!

I should say, our new carpet. We had new carpet installed on Monday and Tuesday. It is nothing less than beautiful... cottony soft... luxurious. I don't think I have ever felt like this before about carpet, but if you had seen our original carpet, you would understand. The color was harmless enough, so it was tolerable.It was just very, very tired. It was 15 years old and supported two 100 lb dogs for three years near the end of its life.

I don't know if it is a rule that installers must arrive late and stay well past your bedtime, but this is the second time it has happened. This time the carpet made up for it. And the installers did an awesome job, in spite of their tardiness.

And now, let's see how long the carpet lasts. Supposedly you can clean up spilled red wine with mere water, but that is one test I am not trying any time soon. That would be a waste of some perfectly good red wine.