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sugar

January 22, 2014

So yes, I missed another week of posting.

Veering from The Schedule? It’s a slippery slope I tell you. Once you start it’s easy to just keep going….

This High Line picture is from a while ago...but I don't have a whole lot good pictures since I haven't been doing anything except moving the sugar bowl lately.

This High Line picture is from a while ago…but I don’t have a whole lot good pictures since I haven’t been doing anything fun lately…PS: Note the yellow billboard. And Ali’s double hood. Hysterical.

But I have good reasons for my lack of posting!

Because in addition to a rather unusually large workload, and a substantial amount of time having a “difference of opinion” with Maya, I’ve also been busy putting away the sugar bowl like it’s my full-time job.

Yes, my friends, Ali and I have now developed a new point of contention: the fact that he finds it impossible to put the sugar container away.

We MADE time for Fig & Olive...definitely a highlight of the last 2 weeks.

We found time for Fig & Olive…definitely a highlight of the last 2 weeks.

Here’s how things go:

  • Ali makes tea and the sugar bowl finds its way out of the cupboard and on to the kitchen counter.
  • Ali drops sugar on the counter. He doesn’t clean it up. (Another post.)
  • Ali leaves the spoon on the counter. He doesn’t clean that up either. (Another post.)
  • Finally Ali pronounces his tea perfect, leaves the sugar bowl on the counter, and walks away.
  • I walk in, curse, and put the sugar bowl away.
  • 3.5 – 4 hours later my caffeine-addicted husband starts the process all over again.

This “ailment” came out of nowhere and despite an admirable amount of patience on my part, it doesn’t seem to be curable.

We also ventured out for dinner once @ Pappardella. It was "decent" per Ali.

We also ventured out for dinner once @ Pappardella. Nothing to write home about.

The interesting part of this whole situation? I’m fairly certain Ali has no idea he keeps leaving the sugar out and that I keep putting it away. He’ll read this post and say, “What at you talking about? I don’t leave the sugar out.”

Here’s what I know: He’ll put the sugar bowl away for the next few days. Maybe even a few weeks! But then, as time progresses, the sugar bowl will return back to its spot on the counter.

And we’re full circle to that slippery slope…

a non-event

January 1, 2014

When I was growing up New Year’s Eve was always a non-event.

I know I’ve already discussed how it went each year but can we rehash for a second?

  • At 7:30pm we’d bake up a Boboli for dinner.
  • At 8:00pm we’d chill a bottle of Martinelli’s in preparation for midnight.
  • At 8:30pm we’d settle in for a long evening of John Hughes movies  on TBS, interspersed with CNN’s coverage of the Times Square scene.
At Rockefeller Center, Christmas Day, Our Gingerbread House

At Rockefeller Center, Christmas Day, Our Gingerbread House

  • At 8:32pm I’d promise myself – yet again – that one day I would move to NYC and be witness to the ball dropping on New Year’s Eve.
  • At 10:15pm we’d all be fast asleep on the couch. (With the exception of my brother, who’d take advantage of the lack of supervision by doing something Terribly Bad and Not Allowed.)
A poached egg and crab cake @ Fig & Olive, crostini dessert @ Fig & Olive, salmon @ La Bergamote, salmon @ Tommy Bahama. (Tommy designs clothes and apparently dabbles in food. Who knew?)

A poached egg and crab cake @ Fig & Olive, Crostini Dessert @ Fig & Olive, Salmon @ La Bergamote, Salmon @ Tommy Bahama. (Tommy designs clothes and apparently dabbles in food. Who knew?)

Now that I live in NYC you’d think that my dream of celebrating in Times Square would finally come true. This is not the case. Why?

Because it’s flipping cold.

Complete Madness.

Complete Madness.

Here’s what we did instead. We enjoyed an Early Bird Dinner, walked around the corner, took the following picture of the Times Square madness, and then caught a cab, went home, and turned the heater on high.

Best New Year’s Eve ever.

 

 

the frying pan

December 25, 2013

For the first time since I began writing this blog, I didn’t put up a post for more than two weeks. 

This means that I didn’t stick with The Schedule.

It nearly killed me to not stick with The Schedule. Because without Order and Routine and Schedule, who am I really?

(Aside from the obvious answer of Ali.)

At our usual Maison Kayser...pretty Christmas tree. And Maya's pretty new hat.

At our usual Maison Kayser…pretty Christmas tree. And Maya’s pretty new hat.

Anyway, my work hours have been so crazy that I brought home non-organic grapes and let Maya wear mismatched socks to school.

Ali even resorted to “cooking” one night, when I didn’t get home prior to the dinner hour.

He utilized the new pans I finally bought (thank you for your speedy delivery Macys.com – now we can hopefully stop slowly dying of lead poisoning) and made two sunny-side up eggs.

At Koi - Bryant Park. This place used to be WAY better.

At Koi – Bryant Park. This place used to be WAY better.

Which led me to institute the following:

Rule #579- “When one makes a sunny-side up egg, one must clean up the greasy frying pan, the greasy stove, and the greasy spatula. Otherwise, one may not make a sunny-side up egg.”

Rule #580- “One may not, under any circumstances, utilize a metal utensil on the brand new non-stick pans. Ever.”

Sea bass at Koi, Pumpkin salad at Stella, Minestrone soup at Le Pain Quotidien, Verdure Salad at Stella

Steamed fish at Koi (not good), Pumpkin salad at Stella (very good!), Minestrone soup at Le Pain Quotidien (very good!), Verdure Salad at Stella (amazing)

Aside from instituting new kitchen rules, I have lots of real work to catch up on. But I decided that today, on Christmas, there will be no work.

Instead, I will continue my pattern of ignoring Maya so I can put up a post. Even one that really has no point.

At Koi. Where I requested a fork. Because I'm too lazy to use chopsticks.

At Koi. Where I at my not-so-tasty-dinner while half-asleep.

Because I can think of no better trade-off than to ignore my family in honor of The Schedule.

We’ll just call it a little gift to myself.

square one

December 11, 2013

The questions were killing me:

  • How much TV can I watch?
  • What can I eat if I’m still hungry?
  • What should I wear today?
  • What should I wear tomorrow?

I had no choice but to let go of my controlling ways and invite a little autonomy into The System.

Beginning with Maya’s favorite topic: dessert.

A very very very cold snowstorm.

A very very very cold snowstorm.

Me: “You can have dessert 3 times a week, whichever days you choose. Try not to eat things that contain Blue #1 and Red #40. Aside from that it’s totally your decision, okay?”

Maya: “Really? OKAY!”

While Maya was beside herself with her newfound freedom, letting go didn’t mean I didn’t still have my concerns:

  • Was dessert 3 times a week too little?
  • Was it too much?
  • Would Maya lie to me and pretend she didn’t have dessert when she really did?
  • Was she going to become obsessed?
  • Was I becoming obsessed that she’d become obsessed?
Lunch at Stella. Amazing from start to finish.

Lunch at Stella. Amazing from start to finish.

I had no answers, but I knew I had to let go. So I did.

And guess what? The questions stopped!

I patted myself on the back for being a pioneer in the field of child-rearing. I was a forward-thinker! Maya was well on her way to becoming well-adjusted! The System was working!

"Make funny faces Mama!" Um. Sure.

“Make funny faces Mama!” Um. Sure.

But it’s been a few weeks and new questions are being posed:

  • Does one Hershey’s kiss count as one dessert?
  • No? Well then how many do?
  • If I don’t use all 3 days in one week, can I carry over my days into a new week?
  • Are sugar covered pretzels a snack or a dessert?

So obviously I’m not a pioneer. I’m not a forward-thinker. The System has failed. I need to hire someone to answer Maya’s questions. Maya will still need therapy. And I probably will too.

Back to square one.

why a hypothetical person works.

December 4, 2013

Picture this “hypothetical” scenario:

You leave work to pick up your hypothetical 8-year-old.
You speed walk 30 blocks and 5 avenues, in 34 degree weather, instead of taking the subway.
You do this because the subway was delayed underground the day before and it nearly made you late for after school pick up.
And the thought of being late for after school pick up puts shivers down your spine.

At the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

At the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade

Aside from several new blisters (thanks Tory B.) and a rather strange interaction with a fellow pedestrian who appeared to be offended by the fact you were multitasking (apparently speaking to your mother on the phone is a crime), you get to school without incident.

Maya was thrilled with the dirty confetti, which I continue to find in my purse and coat.

Maya was thrilled with the dirty confetti, which I continue to find in my purse and coat.

You even get to school with time to spare and rejoice your hypothetical kid isn’t the last one there.
You’re ready for a hug or a happy “Hi Mama!”
Instead your kid could care less you’re there. Her first question is “What’s for dinner?”

It’s then you realize she’s more like her father than you originally thought.

It was very very very cold. As evidenced by our large coats.

It was very very cold. As evidenced by our large coats.

She hands you her backpack, her latest art project (you’re guessing this is a misshapen turkey but don’t want to vocalize this thought in case you’re completely off base), her lunch box, her hat, and her umbrella.
As you juggle these items, in addition to your own purse, laptop, gloves, and coat, she trots off towards the school exit without a care in the world.

It’s then you realize, she is a clone of her father.

Confetti obsession continued on for a while...

Confetti obsession continued on for a while…

You get home.
You unload the 15 pounds of stuff you’re carrying.
You see your hypothetical husband and you wait for a happy “Hi Hypothetical Person! How was your day?”
Your husband looks up from his computer for a second to say hello. Then he goes back to work.
A second later he looks up again and asks, “What’s for dinner?”

And that’s when you realize you wish you were back at work.
Where people appreciate you.
And don’t ask you what’s for dinner.

things

November 27, 2013

I have many things to be thankful for this year:

First and foremost, Ali survived Sunday’s Arctic blast.

27 degrees = cabs. Lots of cabs.

27 degrees = cabs. Lots of cabs.

And although it was rather touch and go for a few moments, I survived Maya’s horrifically bad mood on Sunday.

Dinner @ Bice: Spaghetti, Apple Pie, Branzino, Molten Lava Cake

Dinner @ Bice: Spaghetti, Apple Pie, Branzino, Molten Lava Cake

Oh, and Ali organized our collection of paper bags under the kitchen sink.

Talk about an unexpected surprise.

Lunch at Maison Kayser: Nicoise Salad and Smoked Salmon, Dessert @ CPK: Salted Caramel Pudding

Lunch at Maison Kayser: Nicoise Salad and Smoked Salmon, Dessert @ CPK: Salted Caramel Pudding

We’ve also eaten some fairly decent food lately, none of which had to be cooked or cleaned up by me.

Maya and I @ Bice. One of our favorite places.

Maya and I @ Bice. One of our favorite places. Good food. Bad lighting.

And most importantly? We are in New York. And I’m not sure about the rest of my family but I Love It Here.

Thankful is an understatement.

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