Aprils.

It seems that time is going by at warp speed. My baby had his half birthday. Things are flying.

And so I decided to take a look back.

On this date in April 2010 I had just become a mother six days prior. It was my third day home from the hospital. I was learning to nurse in the side lying position. My daughter was sleeping in her carseat, buckled up and with straps tightened, next to us in our bedroom (we had no idea what we were doing). I still looked pregnant, I was not yet adjusted to the change and yet I had found tremendous love in that little pink thing they called my daughter.

This is April 2011

This is April 2012

April 2013 was a rough time for me. I was suffering from debilitating morning sickness. I was on prescription medicine so that I would only get sick 10 times a day. I announced my pregnancy, as I was already showing. I swear, I started to show from the moment that the stick turned pink. Everyone told me I was having a boy. Every. Single. Person. Ever. Perhaps it was because I looked like, as someone said, a bowling ball with sticks coming out.

I was starting to deal with some anxiety and depression, but was very focused on teaching my class and loving on my daughter.

I remember a few specific things about April 2013. I remember having coconut cake for dessert  on my birthday (we invited our next door neighbors in to join us, who, at the time, were new friends, and have since become dear, close friends). I remember that my husband had the County declare the day in my name as a tribute. I remember sitting outside on the picnic benches with my class, eating mini cupcakes. I remember that one kid stole 3 of them. I remember that we had a small mosaics party for my daughter. I remember seeing Pippin on Broadway and finding it to be life changing. I also found myself completely out of control of my emotions during the opening song, “Magic to Do” and was laugh-crying as the actors on stage engaged me. It was out of body.

April 2014 has been a ride. My first baby turned four. And she has become such a person. My babysitter just texted me with all of the funny and irreverent things that my daughter said today while I was out. Among them was that she told her brother he as being boring like an old grandpa.

April has tightened my circle. It has given me special times with my dearest friends. Home cooked Shabbat dinners, crazy photobooth pictures, pitchers of sangria and dance parties.

April has brought great emotional changes. It has brought my husband and I closer. Closer than ever.

April has given me some insight, some perspective and some maturity.

April has given me some healing.

I look forward to what the next month brings (I bought a white dress to wear on our May anniversary),

but for now, I’m enjoying this month,

my favorite month,

and I am now realizing how far I’ve come;

not just from April 2010, but from the past few months. As I said, it’s still hard. But April has been brighter.

Thank you, April. Thank you with all of my heart.

Old and New.

Tonight, at sundown,  we said the Shehecheyanu, welcoming the promise of all that is new.

And you know I love the New.

But this week I have stumbled across some things,

some old things–

rich memories,

evocations,

emotional souvenirs–

that have left me feeling breathless.

Not only have I stumbled upon these remembrances, but I’ve also come across the words I’ve used to save them.

And so, while they may not have the same power over you,

and while they may not make your heart race,

or hurt,

or swell,

perhaps they’ll, at the very least, tell you a little more of my story.

So, here are a few of my oldies,

the ones that have tugged at me,

and because while their memories may rest deep within me,

for you

they could be

nothing but

new.

Memories

There’s Magic in the Night

“I Never Not Wanted It”

There’s No Place Like Home

A Time Out

Home

Shabbat Shalom and may peace be with you.

Greatness/the past few days

Some things are good.

Other things are great.

Getting to come home from a wonderful morning of teaching,

only to find my sister and daughter playing dress-up together,

my little girl decked out in gold chains and over-sized purple shades,

feels great.

“Sorry, but you can’t dress her up as well as I can,” my baby sister said to me. “That’s what aunts are for.”

So, so great.

Getting to spend that evening with my sister,

out,

(Wait. Did you catch that? I said o.u.t. I was out. On a Thursday night. Just making sure.)

was great.

Our shared tartine with creamy ricotta cheese, mission figs and fresh honey?

Beyond.

And our outing at the theatre was suberb.

What a great night.

A Friday spent lounging around with my daughter (who just so happened to sleep past 9am) is more than great.

It is perfection.

And what feels better than dining al fresco with the two loves of my life, before walking down the street to get ice cream, my daughter toddling down the road between us, holding each of our fingers in her tiny hands?

Not much, I say.

Except for lighting the Shabbat candles with my daughter in my arms, that is. That is so great.

Saying the Shehecheyanu, as her eyes dance across the flames

and her hands clap in rhythm with the melody

feels so great.

It is wonderful.

It is everything.

And then chasing her around after her bath,

as she squeals with completely uninhibited, unfiltered delight,

her little body gliding around so skillfully

as the touch of her skin makes my soul ache with joy.

And I squeal along with her.

So freakin’ fun. And funny. And great.

And now, as she dreams peacefully in her crib,

I have time to rest and recharge,

with an exciting new book and a big ol’ cup of frozen yogurt.

With white chocolate chips.

And coconut.

Ok. And Nerds.

Because this, my friends,

this

is greatness.

And this, my friends, is greatness.

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.

While you were out

Shout out loud!

Bang on some pots and pans!

It’s been far too quiet around here.

This week was challenging for me,

as it was my first week back to work in the New Year,

as well as my first week of working every day since I was placed on bedrest a whole, long March ago.

So, this week, I succumbed to my nagging writer’s block,

and stepped away from the computer,

and soaked up every free minute of precious baby time.

I now leave her for a mere 15 hours a week,

which is up from the 5 hours a week I was working in the Fall,

and  although I was prepared with a nice, gradual transition,

it is still hard.

So freakin’ hard.

I thought that it would be easier.

I thought that I would only be missing a quick meal and a long nap and that I’d be home before she knew I was gone.

I thought wrong.

I missed her saying a new word for the first time.

I missed her starting to pull up.

But, most of all,

I just missed her.

The love that I feel for this little girl is so profound,

and when I am away from her, I am not whole.

So, yes;

I’ve been so so quiet.

I hope you understand.

But, sound the drum!

Set off some fireworks!

I’m back.

And, I’m here to fill you in on what you may have missed.

So, without further ado,

here,

through photos and words,

is a little bit of what happened

while we were out.

A wonderful friend made me the best hot cocoa of my life,

I rocked a baby, who was not my own, to sleep,

My daughter and I had more dance parties than I can count,

I watched my mother give my daughter her sixth tutu,

My heart did a somersault, once again, when I said “My daughter”,

I sang Shabbat and I sang Shalom

and I said the Schehecheyanu for some exciting new beginnings in our lives.

And so, so, so much more.

And since my family time is now more precious than ever,

I shall leave you with a promise to be back very soon.

Stomp your feet!

Give a clap!

And hold your loved ones as tightly as you can.

I sure am.

Happy Happy

There’s a whole lot of celebrating going on this week in the Land of Mom.

There was our Engagemeversary yesterday.

There is a certain little piglet’s certain little month birthday tomorrow.

And, today, there are two,

count ’em,

two,

birthdays in the family: My baby sis and mother-in-law.

This makes for a very busy weekend.

Fine by me.

This also means lots of cake.

Fine by me.

Tonight, as we gathered at my Mother-in-law’s place to celebrate day-o-birth,

we got to talking about something that every Jew talks about on Shabbat: Good old Santa Claus.

Apparently, my Mommom-in-Law believed in Santa Claus until she was 10.

Apparently, she still believes that ‘all good little girls should get a visit from Santa!”

Apparently, she forgets that we are Jewish.

As much as I appreciate St. Nick and all of his jolly, good cheer, he will not be making an appearance in our home.

Nothing against the guy;

it’s just that Judah Maccabee is, and always will be, my homeboy.

However, just because my daughter won’t be growing up putting out milk and cookies for Santa on Christmas eve,

nor will she be searching for gifts in the fireplace on Christmas morning,

it doesn’t mean I don’t have a certain soft spot for Mr. Claus.

He and I have a long, and somewhat complicated, history,

(more on that later in the week)

but Santa did give me one very special, irreplaceable gift.

You see, When I was 2 and a half, my parents took me out to California to visit my brand new baby cousin. During our visit, we traveled to Toddler Mecca, otherwise known as Disneyland. Since it was December, my mom and dad let me sit on Santa’s lap.

When Santa asked me what I wished for, there was one

and only one thing that I really, truly desired;

A baby sister.

I won’t lie and say that I remember this,

but I’m sure he ho-ho-ho’ed,

told me to be a good, little girl,

and sent me on my good, little Jewish girl way.

Now, I don’t know what kind of magic happened in those ho ho hos

(and I promise you, mom, no pun intended here…)

but exactly one year later, one week before Christmas,

Santa gave me my gift,

and granted my greatest wish.

My baby sister was born,

and we’ve been best friends

(cough cough)

ever since.

And let me just add that for years and years after that blessed day,

any time that my sister and I would be in a knock down, drag out brawl,

and I told her how much I loathed her and begged for her to leave me (and my barbies!!) alone,

she would always come back with the same retort:

“YOU WISHED FOR ME!!”

And then, I kind of had to give up. What else could I say? She was right. For better or for worse, she was mine.

And, luckily for us,

it’s almost always been for better

And for best.

Happy birthday to my beautiful, talented, brilliant, twerpy little sister.

What a gift you are to this world,

and to all of us.

I am proud of you each and every day.

Love,

Big Sisty, Ever After

Scene from the living room floor

Wishing you a peaceful, featherful, lovely Shabbat.

Shalom, chaverim.

The Princess and the Jog

 

“I may have just filled her sippy cup up with water for me to take on our walk. What? I can’t find my Nalgene.”

-that would be my husband, on his way out the door for his Saturday daddy/daughter walk.

I mean, I could tease him, but it isn’t the worst idea in the world.

Plus, her magenta sippy cup does match perfectly with the new Princess Silly Band he is sporting, after J found it and brought it to our Shabbat dinner last night.

And yes, I did just justify my husband’s use of a sippy cup.

With a matching Silly Band.

If the band fits, you gotta use the sips.

If you’re jogging with a band, you should have a sippy cup in your hand.

OK. So, maybe I can’t make this one work.

But, somehow,

I think my husband will manage to pull it off.

Oh, and from now on, feel free to refer to him as Tiana.

Or, Her Royal Highness, if you nasty.

wordless weekdays

Hi!

Remember me?
It’s been awhile,

hasn’t it?

Aw, thanks,

I’ve missed you, too!

You see, this week I was feeling a bit under the weather,

and, apparently, so has WordPress.

It isn’t that I haven’t had a lot to say, I just haven’t had a way to say it.

Like, on Wednesday–

It was to be a Wordless Wednesday,

for this picture says it all.

Because on Wednesday it got really cold, and reminded me of last winter,

which reminded me of said photo, and furry sweaters

on furry dogs.

On Thursday, I was going to write about my sore throat, and how it’s no longer easy to take it easy when you’re a mommy.

My husband did manage to help, though.

He went to the grocery store and got me an assortment of soups. He handed me this

Before presenting me with it, he said, “I got you something I think you’ll like because of the extremely high sodium content.”

I’m not kidding.

He said that.

He was right.

On Friday, I was going to write about Shabbat.

And Sesame Street.

The letter of the day on Friday was the letter S.

As the sun set and the Sabbath started, baby and I watched Sesame Street, while waiting for daddy to come home.

It was Salsa day for Elmo, and squash night for baby. She ate her squash, as I tried to coax a smile by salsa dancing around the slippery floor in my socks, sliding as I shimmied across baby’s line of sight. Daddy couldn’t get home soon enough for either of us.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking.

S is also for sleep. So funny, they had an S day with Salsa dancing, and an S night with so much sleep.

And I would say, you would be wrong.

Sweet sleep eluded us last night, as the baby fussed and tossed and cried and complained.

It was just Splendid. Stupendous, in fact.

Spectacular.

And now, I’m Sleepy.

Very, very sleepy.

So sleepy.

So

it’s time for me to leave you,

but, hopefully not for too long, this time.

Just for a bit, so I can catch a few more zzzzzzs….

or, at the very least, a couple ssssssssssssss.

 

thank you for the new

Thank you for all that is new.

In Judaism, there is a blessing called the Shehecheyanu.

Traditionally, you say the Shehecheyanu to mark the start of something new,

for every first,

at the beginning of a Holiday,

for a birth,

on an occasion to be grateful for….

I think you get the gist.

This is one of my favorite blessings,

and growing up, my parents taught us to say the Shehecheyanu each Friday evening at sundown as we lit the Sabbath candles.

Thank you for allowing us to experience the start of a sweet new week.

As we grew older, my parents loved to hear my sister and I sing the Shehecheyanu,

with it’s beautiful melody,

and our own invented harmony,

and embarrassed us at many a family dinner by coaxing us into chanting this blessing for the group.

I think we both rolled our eyes at this request,

but both also loved it, just a little,

as it really is so

so

beautiful.

Thank you for the songs of the future.

This week, I am thankful for many new things;

like the fact that this week, my baby really began sitting up on her own;

this week, her babbling of “mama” seemed to have greater purpose behind it;

this week, my daughter shed her first tear over a boy.

Yes, it was because her baby boyfriend startled her with a giant “roar”,

and yes, baby tears are never really something to celebrate, despite how adorable their origin may be,

but it was a right of passage, nonetheless.

Thank you for each new milestone.

Tonight, our Shabbat Dinner was nothing formal or fancy;

it was pizza and wings with my husband, baby and brother-in-law in front of the Phillies game,

but it was, as it always is,

a way to put last week behind us,

and look ahead at what next week may bring.

Thank you for quiet nights at home.

The Shehecheyanu takes but a minute to say,

but is a deeply precious way to give thanks for all of the new, sacred blessings that surround each of us.

Thank you for our day of rest.

I do not know what the next week will bring,

but I do, with all of my heart, know that I will do my best to say my blessings,

as I count my blessings,

one bite of cheese pizza,

one cry for “mama”,

one roar

at a time.

And let us say,

Amen.

 

hello, goodbye and peace

Did you feel that?

That would be the new chill in the air, as the night air has finally succumbed to autumn.

Did you hear that?

That would be the crunch of the fallen leaves under your feet,

as the branches are starting to yellow, soon to be set on fire, before growing bare and cold.

Did you smell that?

That would be firewood, burning quietly in some fireplaces tonight.

Fall is here,

and now, as the sun has set, so is Shabbat.

Tonight was absolutely lovely, as Friday nights go.

We had a decadent Shabbat feast,

cooked by our own personal Top Chef,

and devoured every bite of the Parmesan and lemon crusted chicken Milanese, roasted Brussels sprouts and ridiculously velevetyamazingdecadent butternut squash puree,

as we took turns bouncing the baby and planning our coordinating Halloween costumes.

My friends, you’re in for a treat.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

After dinner, we had to rush home, so that the baby could get to bed at a decent hour,

but not before we gathered around the table to light the Shabbat candles.

As we said the blessings,

I watched my dad and husband dance around in circles with the baby, making her giggle and squeal.

I could say that their smiles glowed more brightly than the candles’ flames,

but then I’d have to whack myself with a hunk of challah,

so I’ll just say that it was very special and made my heart sing.

An auspicious start to a new week,

and a new season,

with our newest family member,

I’d say.

I’d also say, Shalom.

Hello October,

Goodbye Summer,

And may peace be with you.