The Banana Debacle
I have an intense distaste for bananas.
If, by some miracle, I can get past the smell and actually bite into a banana, I will gag at the fact they are mushy, too sweet, and just generally unattractive.
So imagine my disgust when I found this lying around the kitchen:
If after 10 years of marriage your husband still doesn’t know what drives you “bananas” then I think it’s fair to let him learn the hard way – let’s just say that the microwave will read “.01 seconds” for the next few days.
I wanted to throw the offending banana in the trash but this was a problem for two reasons:
- I didn’t want to touch it, and
- I fear wasting food more than I fear touching bananas.
So armed with tongs and a severely abused banana, Maya and I decided to tackle banana bread.
As with most things that come out my kitchen this recipe came together with a wing and a prayer. But unlike most things that come out of my kitchen every single person in the Din Household LOVED this banana bread. This, my friends, is unheard of.
A-Wing-and-a-Prayer Chocolate Chip Banana Bread
2 cups of flour (I used white because that’s all I had but wheat would be better)
1/3 cup of brown sugar
2 mashed up, seriously overripe bananas
1/4 cup chocolate chips
1 egg
1/4 cup milk
1 t baking powder
1 t cinnamon
1 t vanilla
1 t baking soda
3/4 t salt
2 T canola oil
1. Mix the wet ingredients and the dry ingredients separately.
2. Combine, pour into a greased loaf pan, and bake at 325 degrees for 45 minutes.
I know that Ali is reading this and is thinking, “See, if I hadn’t left that old banana on the counter you would have never made this bread.”
And all I can say to that is, “Ali, go take a look at the microwave.”
What Makes a Good Mother?
A good mother does not yell, is not impatient, and doesn’t utilize fake swear words like, “Flippin’ A.”
I impatiently yell, “Flippin’ A Maya, knock it off.” Almost daily.
A good mother always has hand sanitizer and band-aids handy, and knows exactly how to use a thermometer.
Despite having it on the shopping list for weeks, the Din Household is currently sans band-aids and hand sanitizer, and 5 years into motherhood I still can’t figure out how to use a thermometer. Not even a digital one.
A good mother runs over when her child falls down at the park and always has a band-aid in her back pocket.
When Maya falls down I usually yell, “Is there blood?” from across the park and if the answer is “no” I go back to reading/chatting on my phone. And we’ve already addressed the band-aid situation.
A good mother doesn’t let her kid leave the house without brushing her teeth and she certainly doesn’t let her child wear pajamas to a restaurant.
All I can say to this one is that you have to pick your battles…trust me on this.
I do not fit the definition of a traditionally good mother and yet I am still a good mother. I can state this with confidence because I managed not to lose my mind or my temper today when Maya interrupted yet another one of my phone calls with the most pressing question ever:
“What happens if you have a baby in your tummy and it throws up? Where does the barf go?”
In honor of Maya's 1st day of kindergarten I spared her. Lucky girl.
I know. I shocked myself too.
A State of Mind
The 30 days of Ramadan are finally over!
We celebrated on Friday in traditional Din fashion which meant that I cleaned up vomit not once, but twice…
If you've never seen regurgitated grapes, consider yourself lucky.
We spent several hours on the 10, 110, and 405 freeways, speeding and cursing traffic…
"Does that lane look clear? Can you check for cops?"
And then as usual, the evening culminated in a misplaced iPhone. I won’t disclose who lost the aforementioned phone because I learned during Ramadan that it isn’t nice to talk about others, but I will say that I know where my phone is and Maya doesn’t have a phone. Yet.
Somebody and their iPhone...during happier times.
Take that as you will.
In between cleaning up barf and managing not to address someone’s inability to keep track of their belongings, we spent the better part of the day at my mom’s place hosting an open house.
It took 5 years and countless arguments but my parent's renovations are finally winding down.
Renovations might be winding down but harsh words are being exchanged regarding this Asian inspired dining table that doesn't quite fit the rest of the decor. My dad has issues getting rid of things.
I didn't make a single one of these desserts but I arranged them quite nicely if I do say so myself.
The funny thing is that despite being around food galore guess what I ate yesterday? Nothing for breakfast, salad and chickpeas for lunch, and plain rice with tomatoes and cucumbers for dinner. I had zero appetite.
That just goes to show that 99% of the challenge of Ramadan is one’s state of mind and not actually hunger. But regardless of my theory, I’m happy to put the month behind me and start eating properly again.
Now if only I could get someone around here to stop losing his things…life might just be pretty good.
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 
