Oh yes, sweet darlin’

Today, I cried

while slow dancing with my little girl.

We were listening to a very special CD, For Our Children,

and as we swayed back and forth to Carole King singing “Child of Mine”, I began to cry.

You see, I am getting a bit wistful,

a tad sentimental,

about this whole “My newborn baby is actually now one-whole-year-old and I’m not a real-adult-grown-up” thang.

And, this CD, this song, is very meaningful to me.

You see, my mom and I used to listen to the original 1991 version of this album every single day.

I so vividly remember the one summer when these songs were the soundtrack of our daily drive to my day camp.

I never wanted to get out of the car.

I never wanted to leave her.

I never wanted the songs to end.

Surprise surprise.

We would listen to the crazy, amazing nursery rhymes and children’s songs, but my eternal favorite was always “Child of Mine”. It moved me, even then. Even before I knew why or how. It moved me. It was my song with my mom.

And it still is.

Except now it’s also my daughter’s song with my mom, as they dance to it each morning together, as my mom watches my baby girl while I am teaching.

And now, it’s my child’s and mine.

So, we danced, as she held my thumb in her closed palm, and she smiled with her gap-toothed smile, and I wept.

I wept for my childhood

and I wept for my child.

And then, before I knew it, life went on.

The song changed.

I did not want our dance to stop.

I did not want to get out of the car.

I did not want my baby girl to be growing up so darn fast.

But, she had already moved on. She had already started bopping her head and waving her arms and kicking her legs to Bruce Springsteen singing about “Chicken hips and lizard lips” and I had to move on with her.

She was leading our dance, and it was my turn to follow.

It was my turn to stop worrying,

to stop weeping,

and to enjoy the moment,

before it too would pass.

So thank you, sweet girl, for, once again, stopping my tears with your smiles.

and, I mean it,

oh how I mean it,

when I say,

“oh yes, sweet darlin’,

so glad you are a child of mine.”

Then and Now

This is what love looked like in 2006

This is what love looked like last month.

Our love has grown up with us.

And hey,

we grew a baby together.

And perhaps our love has grown a bit more wrinkly with age,

and grown to need glasses,

and maybe it’s grown some wear around the seams,

but oh,

how our love has grown.

Speaking of birthdays,

I have yet to share the details of Birthdaypalooza,

(which, of course, included lots of kisses and lots and lots of cake. And cupcakes.)

like the fact that we spent my birthday weekend in New York City.

It was magic.

Or, as some may say,

it was the icing on the cupcake.

It was the perfect day.

This year, my birthday meant strolling through Central Park with a peaceful sleeping girl nestled into the nook made by my husband’s arms.

It meant having an occasion to point and shout, “Follow that bird!”

It meant eating an ice cream sundae, smothered in malt balls and fudge. At brunch.

It meant getting a t-shirt for my baby, and then a matching t-shirt for her Bitty Baby. And then the matching t-shirt for myself.

It meant snapping photo after photo of my parents and my daughter smiling at one another.

It meant feeling a bit old, and then being mistaken for the “big sister” a moment later.

It meant watching my girl feed herself my freshly made tomato basil spaghetti by the handful and then letting her hug with me with red, saucy paws.

It meant hearing my daugher learn 3 new words in one day.

It meant spotting feathers.

It meant dancing on a giant piano.

It meant everything.

On my daughter’s Birthday,

I expected to take her to the zoo. Or to a kiddie theme park. Or to a parade, in her honor.

I expected to dress her in a tutu.

I expected to eat cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

But, my daughter’s birthday was the day of the first Passover Seder.

So, on my daughter’s birthday, we visited my parents to help them cook for 37 people,

and ended up eating Matzohball soup with my mom and dad, Mommom and Aunt,

while sitting on the floor,

atop an old blanket that was woven by my great-great-Aunt.

All 6 of us, sitting on that old blanket, laughing and loving.

I guess that says it all about the fabric of our family.

Not what I expected out of my daughter’s birthday.

Oh, but we did manage to eat cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

So, I guess it was a little of what I expected. And so much more.

Some things you’ve missed:

Things have a bit quiet here in the Land of Mom. Well, not in the Land of Mom, but here in the cyberland version of Ever After.

It’s not that I haven’t had what to share;

quite the opposite, in fact.

I have a million posts composed on my Blackberry, scribbled down on note paper and in my actual baby book,

and, even more in my head,

but I’ve chosen to keep them to myself for a bit.

Since I last wrote,

I turned another year older,

and so did my daughter.

Yep.

That’s right.

I failed to write about my daughter’s first birthday.

The old me would be appalled.

Haven’t I been writing about my 1st birthday plans since June?

Yes. Yes I have.

But, something has changed in me.

Maybe it’s the extra year I gained.

Maybe it’s the feeling of time slipping by so quickly that I cannot justify sitting behind a computer screen writing about my baby, when really, I could just be kissing her little face and breathing her in.

Maybe it’s the result of an April Fool’s Joke that went awry and scared the bejeezus out of me.

Maybe it’s something more.

But, I’ve chosen to keep some things close to the vest,

and I hope that you forgive me.

So, for today, I will give you some snippets of what you may have missed,

while I’ve been busy living

in the Ever After.

But, for now, I must leave you. My daughter just came over to me. She wants to dance to Solid Gold Oldies in my arms.

And I will never say no to an 8 am dance party.

Never.

I’m still me,

after all.

On this Saturday night last year,

this was happening.

My water broke,

my contractions were three minutes apart,

my mom and dad and husband and I were crowded in a small, somewhat scary delivery room,

as we braced ourselves to meet our girl.

Tonight,

I split a piece of pizza with my daughter,

and made two dozen cupcakes,

and constructed my girl’s favorite character out of fondant,

and my mom and dad and husband and I crowded around the CD player, as we danced to Stevie Wonder and Madcon,

passing our daughter around as she kicked her legs and shimmied her shoulders and boogied on down with us to the music.

Last year was contractions and a c-section,

this year was coziness and some ‘honey suckle chocolate dripping kisses full of love for you’.

So,

what I’m trying to say is,

this year, for the win!

One-der

One year ago today,

on a cloudy Saturday, much like this one,

my day would prove to be my last on earth

P.M.;

Pre-Mommy.

My birth story,

though already begun, was far from over. But I did not know that, yet. All I knew was that I was ready to meet my little darling.

This morning, I spent much of an hour lying on my daughter’s floor, staring at her face,

 a face that still makes me weak.

And because I was too caught up in her bow lips and neverending eyelashes to notice, she managed to get her arm stuck in her drawer.

And she cried, and when I rescued her poor little arm from the clutches,

she held me, with both of her arms, and rested her head on my chest,

and clung to me.

Because I am her mommy.

I make it all better.

And even though it’s been a whole long year,

this whole mommy thing still takes my breath away.

Yes, a whole year later

and I still look on at her,

at us,

and at all that we have become

in wonder.

Just my 3 kids hanging on out on a Sunday night…

Birthdaypalooza

I may have mentioned that my baby girl and I have birthdays exactly one week apart.

In fact, my mom and I were both given the same due date when we were pregnant.

My little one just happened to decide to stick around in the womb for an extra week, so she was born at 40 weeks exactly. She had to make a grand entrance, after all.

And so, this weekend is the start of our week long celebration.

You know how we feel about birthdays in this family.

What I’m trying is to say is,

cue the marching band,

strike up the drums,

call your favorite Princess

and break out your tutus,

because Birthdaypalooza 2011 has commenced.

And,

go!

Can you say, “Inappropriate?”

There may be a time in your life,

when you’re serving your 11 month old baby dinner,

and you watch her feed herself bite after bite of matzohball soup,

and you say “Yeah!! Look at you! You’re eating matzohballs! Matzohballs”

and you watch her beam

and you say “Can you say that? Can you say ‘balls’”?

Yes. There may come a time when you ask your 11 month old child if she can say ‘balls’.

Just sayin’.

On family dinner.

To me, family is everything.

Ev. Er. Y. Thing.

My family is why my heart beats and what makes me smile.

There are few things in my life that I cherish as much as our family dinners.

You see, in my close, connected family,

one of the ties that binds us is comprised of what is in front of us; what is on our plates; what we are putting into our bellies.

We love us some food.

I may have mentioned this before, but when either my dad or I have enjoyed a particularly stunning meal,

we call each other for what we call the “Food Run Down”.

We go, course by course, detailing the marvelous foods we’ve just tried.

And, don’t even get me starting on our Thursday morning post- Top Chef -phone calls.

We love food.

We love each other.

Love love love.

Family dinners have become all the more precious to us as of late, as they have become a bit more infrequent. Hectic schedules, new commitments, and many other new ch-ch-chaaaanges have made our family dinners a bit more hard to come by.

I don’t have time to sit, slaving over the hot stove, preparing an elaborate feast.

I have baby lips to kiss, and husband shoulders to embrace.

And then I found it.

The key to family dinner happiness. Buitoni. *

Say it with me. Buitoni.

Buitoni=Family dinner bliss.

Buitoni believes in using simple, high-quality ingredients to create extraordinary meals. They have over 40 varieties of all-natural pastas and sauces. With a commitment to simple preparation, the brand recently added a new line of Premium Frozen Meals for Two.

Oh, and can you guess where I first heard about this magical brand called Buitoni? Where else? On Top Chef.

In case you’ve been living under a big ol’

oh,

I don’t know,

meatball,

Buitoni is the $200,000 grand prize sponsor of Bravo’s “Top Chef All-Stars.”  My favorite show. Obsessed. Just like the cheftestants are being challenged to create world-class dishes on the show, Buitoni is challenging its Facebook followers to test their own culinary savvy for the chance to win monthly prizes in the Masterpiece Challenge.

And now, here it goes. The food run-down:

For Shabbat dinner, we made Wild Mushroom Agnolotti.

The preparation consisted of boiling it. For 4 minutes. That’s it. Left me with plenty of time for lip kissing and shoulder embracing.

But, was it good?

No.

It was amazing.

Truly.

Absolutely, completely delicious.

Ineverexpectedinamillionyearsitwouldbesogooddelicious.

In fact, it was so darn good that it warranted an immediate Friday evening call to my dad,

for the food rundown, of course. All I had to do was fix a nice mozzarella salad, sautee some spinach, and serve the delicious Wild Mushroom Agnolotti, and I was set.

Bellies were full,

hearts even more so.

That Sunday night, my husband and I were in the mood for a quiet dinner at home,

so I elected to make the Buitoni Shrimp Lobster Ravioli with Garlic Butter Sauce.

Again, all I had to do was boil it. It was a cinch.

And, it was delicious.

My favorite Top Chef cheftestants were right; this stuff is really, really good.

And, it left so much time for the fun stuff.

The family dinner lovin’ stuff.

The food-rundown, full belly, baby kisses stuff.

Buitoni gave us the family dinner back,

and for that, I will be eternally grateful.

And, for that, I will be making sure to have a Buitoni meal in my shopping cart the next time I go to the grocery.

Or two.

Family dinners are just that important.

So, the food rundown is this:

Family is excellent.

Baby kisses are superb.

Daddy shoulder embraces are the tops.

And, Buitoni is a wonderful, delicious, nutritious and easy way to be your own Top Chef,

one family dinner at a time.

 

* Product Sample generously provided by manufacturer. All reviews and opinions are 100% my own.