Look to the cookie.

Last week I felt foggy and sleepy all week; even accounting for time change, it was ridiculous. “Good morning!” I said cheerfully and loudly to the desk staff at the fitness club one day, at three in the afternoon. I went to Costco and only after unloading everything did I realize that I now have TWO giant conditioners in backup, and zero shampoo. I sat and stared at the shelf for a solid three minutes before trundling upstairs to start a new Costco list with one item on it: shampoo. A few times I went to type a text and when I hit the wrong key, I tried to backspace, but instead hit the “m” key, resulting in a text that looked like “do they need snow panrmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” I poured a smoothie into a glass and seemed to not understand volumetric relations, as the smoothie overflowed and poured down the glass, with me still pouring.

I complained to my husband about being tired. Why, why, why am I so tired? I asked. It doesn’t make sense! I am getting exactly the same amount of sleep I normally would. He gently reminded me that I have these extensively-exhausted periods every five to eight weeks, and they tend to be the harbinger for my Ladies’ Holidays, and suggested that perhaps that would explain it?

Well, it would certainly explain the feelings of existential despair.

Lately I’ve been feeling despair about the state of my hair. My hair therapist has done an amazing job with Project Grow Out My Layers, and I will say that my hair looks and feels the best it ever has. She has done an amazing job making this Growing Out Stage completely painless and non-awkward. However, I am feeling great despair about my natural colour, my natural colour being grey.

Me, three weeks into my hair colour cycle and…

Me, five weeks into my colour cycle. Despair! Despair over my hair!

I’ve been using the kind of shampoo and conditioners that are meant for fast hair growth, and they seem to be working. They help with hair breakage – my main issue, given my colouring and heat styling – but also contain caffeine which feels like it might stimulate my scalp. Which is great! I want to grow my hair out! But hair growth starts at the roots, and three and a half weeks into my five week colour cycle, all is ashes. Literally, my roots are the colour of ashes. I’m torn between wanting long and lush hair, and also wanting it to not grow so I don’t have a root situation every three and a half weeks. By the time we get to week five, I feel like a redheaded Bride of Frankenstein, which really should be the Bride of Frankenstein’s MONSTER but you know, semantics.

At what point do I just give up the ghost and embrace my life as a Silver Fox? I’m not at that point yet, and I always thought I never would be. I always imagined myself as one of those ladies in the Home with bright orange hair and lipstick bleeding into my mouth wrinkles, but perhaps not. I mean, the lipstick is always going to be there. I always feel Ready To Face The Day when I put my lipstick on. But as for hair colour, well. Like I said I’m not there yet, and it feels like a Massive Undertaking, even more massive than growing out layers. But at some point I would like to not feel despair over my roots.

Well, we must suffer to be beautiful, I guess. Or, I do. Sometimes I look around me in amazement at all the beautiful women in my life, all apparently effortlessly beautiful. I have friends with glowing, perfect, makeup-free complexions and long, lush, mascara-less lashes and I wonder: what would that be like? Well, I’ll never know. One of my dear friends popped by for coffee one day after her morning swim (HI FLORENCE) with her hair still wet from the pool and shower. During the length of the visit, her hair dried to an absolutely perfect, thick, wavy bob with absolutely ZERO effort on her part. ZERO EFFORT. It just dried that way. I was alerted to the fact that yes, some people DO really “wake up this way.” At five in the morning I see many beautiful women at the yoga studio who all, just like me, rolled out of bed and rolled out their mats, and honestly, it amazes me how good they all look. They do not look like they would frighten small children or, possibly, make people wonder about illness, which is how I look at five in the morning. But back to my friend’s effortlessly perfect hair: it was honestly one of the most impressive things I had ever seen. To get hair that perfect I would need a team of hairdressers or, alternately, a wig.

Life, as we all know, is not always fair. As the late, great Nora Ephron said, “Sometimes I think not having to worry about your hair anymore is the secret upside to death.”

In terms of energy, this week is much, much better – and without Ladies’ Holidays, so perhaps it WAS all due to the time change. Or, perhaps my energy is related to the sudden change in weather; the sun is shining, temperatures are mild, and the snow is melting and water running everywhere. It is very invigorating to me; the lilac leaves are starting to push and I’m excited at the thought of gardening and yard work. Well, after the disaster that is a dog yard post-snow-melt is cleaned up. In any case I am full of boundless energy and in a “get ‘er done” kind of mood, which I used Monday to spend hours – HOURS – laundering all the non-flannel bed linens and all the duvet covers and blankets. Mysteriously, one of the flannel pillowcases seems to be missing – but how? How did it disappear from the time I took it off a pillow to the time I took it to the laundry room? It’s just a pillowcase and yet, it’s making me feel like I’m losing my mind. Maybe that pillowcase is gaslighting me, and it will turn up in a completely normal place. If this had happened during Exhausting Last Week I would have probably had a nervous breakdown over it; as it is I’m just obsessively puzzled.

Once I lost the small lid to my ice cream maker and I thought I was also going to lose my mind; it turned up weeks later, inexplicably perfectly clean in a small, rarely used saucepan. So I have hope for the wayward pillowcase.

It’s been a busy week with lots of fun and interesting activities. Last night the boys and I went to the school play: it was The Lion King, and very well done. I expressed an opinion about the character of Mufasa, and my son told me that the actor was the backup; the original Mufasa had suddenly left to be homeschooled. Oh! It was all very impressive and enjoyable. On the weekend we had an early birthday celebration for my older, Seinfeld-obsessed son. I baked this cake, which he was delighted with:

For peace and harmony, let’s look to the cookie, people. Look to the cookie. xo

Not-Really-Spring Cleaning

People who live in similar climates will understand my pure joy last Friday when it was finally, finally warm enough to wash my car without fear of the doors freezing solidly shut. My car was layered with crusts of road salt, such that it was difficult to see out the parts of the windows that wipers cannot touch, and my side mirrors were similarly fuzzy. You may be asking yourself why wouldn’t I just wash the windows when filling up for gas, but when it is that bitterly cold the thought of having washer fluid drip on my already frozen Reynaud’s hands was just too much to bear. Happily, the weather has changed, but not without a few snowfalls in the past week, which have sadly resulted in my car being fuzzily covered with road salt and muck yet again; although with a mild forecast, this feels less depressing.

The car was not the only thing benefiting from a wash last week; I also cleaned my oven. This might not seem like the most exciting news, but it certainly was to me. I know it’s not a popular thing to admit, but I houseclean a lot. I have many friends who enjoy cleaning services, but here’s the thing: I LIKE cleaning. I know! It’s not an interesting or exciting personality trait, but it’s the truth. My bathrooms are cleaned every other day, as are the floors, the kitchen is always fairly sparkling, and all surfaces are dusted weekly. Every month or so I’ll crazily go on a cleaning-binge on things that are not on the regular rotation: the fridge, the kitchen cupboards, the baseboards, the walls in the mudroom. But the oven is largely neglected because it feels like such a COMMITMENT. I use the oven almost daily and so in order to clean it I need the ultimate trifecta: a day of no oven usage, a can of oven cleaner, and a free afternoon. It’s hard to get all three at the same time, and I feel that I must make a note here: I have previously tried cleaning the oven with various hippie homemade products utilizing vinegar and baking soda, and I will say that the results are less than optimal. So I put on my shopping list a can of fume-free Easy Off, despite my general aversion to such products, because there was going to be no way that I would spend that kind of time and energy for an oven that was largely unchanged in appearance. I did, however, soak the racks in hot water and vinegar, with decent results.

Last Thursday I had nothing to bake – muffins having been baked the day before and even my kids do not consume an entire batch in less than 24 hours – and it was Wrap Night, so I liberally sprayed the oven with the fume-free-but-probably-really-toxic cleaner in the morning before going to teach. And I will tell you this: by the time I got around to cleaning it, at approximately 3pm, it was like magic. I felt like I was in a commercial, smoothly wiping off the grossness of my oven with one clean swipe. The exception was the oven door, which took two applications of Easy-Off and killed two scouring sponges.

Behold!

I was so excited by this, I felt the need to carry on. Maybe it was the fume-free oven cleaner, but I moved all the furniture in the living room to sweep underneath, I scrubbed the floor tiles in the downstairs bathroom and hallway, and then I wandered around the house feeling exhilarated and in need of more things to clean, like a zombie searching out brains or my dog searching out discarded tissues on the sidewalk. MUST CLEAN EVERYTHING. By the time I finished all that and wandered around, though, it was Dinner Prep Time, so I had to settle myself down a little and be contented with cleaning out the kitchen sink.

Years ago my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) wrote about the Flylady’s method of shining one’s sink. This is not a euphemism, we are talking literally about making your kitchen sink shiny. It made me laugh hysterically and also covet a shiny sink. I followed the directions, and I will tell you, that is one miraculous way to clean a sink. I have not done the full thing since then – the first step is to fill the sink with bleach and hot water, which I don’t want to do as it seems wasteful – but every morning before I leave the house I spritz down the sink with my hippie non-toxic cleanser, wipe it down, and then – this is the KEY, people – dry it off with a soft towel. The Flylady talks about how shining the sink is a way to give yourself a little love and motivation, which is absolutely ridiculous, and yet, it is the most satisfying thing to do. Why that is, I don’t know. All I know is that when I get home later in the day, I derive great satisfaction from my clean, shiny sink. Hello, you, I say to the clean sink in my head, before filling it up with dishes and soap suds.

I remember back in university, a friend expressed great disbelief on the discovery that I make my bed every day. What a waste of time, she said, You’re just going to make it messy again. Well, isn’t that EVERY household chore? Should we all just wallow in our own filth because things will get dirty after we clean them? Should we wear food-stained clothes and stop showering? Why floss your teeth if you’re just going to eat again? Even more than a shiny sink, a made bed gives me much satisfaction: it’s nice to look at, and at the end of the day, it is lovely to get into a cozily straightened bed. Also, it takes me less than sixty seconds to make my bed, and that includes pillow shams and decorative pillows. It takes me longer to put on my compression running socks. It takes me longer to put on normal clothes. It takes me longer to do every single thing I do every single morning, so I do not see this as a waste of time. One of the first chores my kids ever had was to make their beds, and I always feel a little vindicated when I see some kind of meme that talks about bed-making as some kind of indication of personal success.

Well, we are all different. I shyly told a friend who owns a cleaning service that I actually really like cleaning the house. I know! she said cheerfully, It’s instant gratification. Some of you might find that a sad way to get instant gratification, but here we are. My Grandma Fern was a force to be reckoned with, and one thing she absolutely hated was any child, but particularly one of her grandchildren, saying “I’m bored.” You would never say that to her without consequences, and I was never stupid enough to do so, but one day when I was staying with her I told her I was looking for something to do. A project, if you will. I didn’t say the loathed words, so she did not snap at me, but she did suggest maybe I’d like to mop her kitchen floor. I’ll never know if she was serious, but I excitedly grabbed the mop and went to town. I was probably ten or so; by the time I was sixteen I was thinking about the day I’d move out and get my own apartment with my very own cleaning supplies. I am now living the dream, people. I can buy any cleaning supplies I like. Follow your dreams. xo

Eating a Rainbow: Greek Salad and Pita Night, a.k.a. the best night of the week

On Barkley’s last eye check – he has a propensity for eye infections and is now, sadly, on drops for life – the veterinarian said that in all her time in veterinary medicine, she has never encountered a dog like him. Now, this has to be taken with a grain of salt as she is a young woman – her name, for example, is Madison, a name that conjures up images of youth – but it turns out that he is the most cooperative dog she has dealt with when it comes to people jabbing his eye with a handheld pressure machine, putting weird little litmus-like papers in his eye, and, of course, giving eye drops.

The reason is that Barkley is literally a Pavlov’s dog. From the first time I gave him eye drops, I would also give him a treat, and now he one hundred percent associates food with eye drops. He is part Labrador, after all, which makes him extremely food-motivated. He licks his lips the second I bring out the drops; he also has an internal clock that is so accurate, he begins to nudge me with his nose at 7:00 am and pm, when he is due for his drops. “Eye drops” is right up there with “walk” for words we cannot say without consequences.

Speaking of walks, I am looking very much forward to the day that it doesn’t take me five minutes to get dressed to go out for twenty-five minutes. Barkley has also associated my legwarmers with walking; from the moment I go to my bedroom to pull on my thickest, woolliest legwarmers, he follows me from room to room, staring at me until I get the leash.

So I’m looking forward to the weekend even more than normal, because – ALLEGEDLY – this extreme cold is going to break and we may even have plus temperatures. PLUS TEMPERATURES. I don’t even want to get my hopes up too high, but PLUS.

I always look forward to the weekend; I do make an effort to enjoy each day, each day is a gift, blah blah blah, but I love the flexibility and family time that the weekends bring. I especially enjoy the food. Fridays are my favourite weeknights because a) they involve wine, and usually lots of it, and b) it’s Greek salad and pita night!

You know those quizzes that say if you could have only one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? This would be my meal: Greek salad, pita, and hummus. When I was pregnant with my youngest I ate it every other day. It’s just so good! So full of nutritious vitamins, protein, iron, and deliciousness. Most people associate onion with Greek salad but mine is onion-less, due to my dislike of raw onion. And cooked onion. And any onion that is not disguised by being pureed into a dish. It’s not the flavour I abhor, it’s the texture. And so, I give you my Greek salad and hummus recipe.

Greek Salad and Hummus, The Best Dinner of the Week

Chop up a whole bunch of cherry tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers (I like baby cucumbers but will use regular ones in a pinch). How much? Let’s say two peppers, five baby cucumbers (or most of one Long English), and a LOT of cherry tomatoes. I don’t know how to measure them; a couple of cups, maybe? Add black olives – the pitted Kalamata ones from Costco are the bomb – and some feta cheese. If you’re a non-dairy person, you could make some almond feta. For the dressing I use 1/3 cup olive oil, and then almost 1/3 cup of red wine vinegar and 2-3 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar. I like my dressing ZESTY. Add some garlic powder, basil, and oregano in indiscriminate amounts. Just shake it in there until it looks good. Pour over top and toss.

For the hummus I use a big can of rinsed and drained chickpeas, 1/5 of a pound block of tofu (bear with me here, explanation to follow), 1/4 cup each of lemon juice and olive oil, 2-3 cloves of garlic, a heaping tablespoon of tahini, a teaspoon of cumin, and some salt and pepper. I have no idea how much. Then I blend it all in my food processor until it’s nice and smooth. The tofu makes it super creamy. Usually I buy a block of tofu and freeze it in 1/5ths, individually, and thaw when the need for hummus is imminent. Occasionally I’ve pulsed in roasted red peppers or pitted Kalamata olives, but usually I prefer my plain-Jane version.

I warm up those cute little mini “party” pitas in the oven, and the guys get sauteed chicken breast as well, which I prepare while drinking large glasses of Cabernet Franc.

Photos from my old YMC posts, back when I used to stage my food. Let’s drop some feta artistically on the placemat! And allow the peppers to hover around their chopped up friend!

Who needs a filter when you can crop out your forehead? Yes, that glass does say Queen of Everything; my parents gave it to me for my birthday and I love it!

Eating a Rainbow: Pita Pizzas, Wraps, and Tacos

God bless the junior high teachers. Yesterday the boys brought home their gym clothes to be washed, and they were much more toxic than normal, thanks to a random kid spraying Axe body spray all over the boys’ locker room and in the tote boxes. My house is now a hazardous waste site. I thought back to my years in junior high and realized that the poor teachers must have put up with all the fumes from our Salon Selectives hairspray, which we would use between classes to keep our vertical bangs at an appropriate stiffness, plus all of our cheap drugstore perfumes, like Love’s Baby Soft and Exclamation. It takes a very special type of person to deal with that age group.

Happy March, everyone! Although it is minus 28 with windchill this morning, at least it isn’t minus 30. This is my new bar. The bar, it is low.

But who wants to talk about the weather? It’s boring and depressing and there is nothing we can do about it anyway, except perhaps sell everything and move to Maui which, frankly, isn’t really all that practical. Bundle up, buttercup. I’m considering a post that would contrast my normal weight with my weight when wearing all my winter gear. It would be an interesting, yet depressing, experiment. Maybe I could take a poll – how much does all my winter gear actually weigh? Well. This is a sad topic.

Let’s talk about food instead! As you know from my weekly meal plan, Wednesdays are generally pita pizza night, and Thursdays are for wraps or tacos. You may notice that as the week goes on my zest for cooking evaporates, so that by the time Thursday comes around, dinner is a very simple affair. Taco Thursday happens about once a month; the rest of the time it’s all about the wrap, which is the simplest dinner to make – literally we can go from zero prep to dinner on the table in about 25 minutes.

Pita Pizzas

No one needs a recipe for this. It is literally the easiest thing to make: buy pitas, put toppings on them, bake. Everyone can have whatever they want on their pizza, making this a very easy way to cater to vegetarians and meat-eaters. I always make extras so that the boys can take them cold in their lunches the next day. Do you know what makes a kid the lunchtime envy of all his friends? PIZZA FOR LUNCH. And these pizzas are way healthier than takeout, as well as being way cheaper. The only person who does not love pita pizza night is my husband, but we can’t have everything we love for dinner all the time. Well, we can, but only if we are making the dinner, and the only person making dinner is ME, which is why all the dinners are things that I personally enjoy. I am a Kitchen Dictator.

Because pita pizzas aren’t veggie-heavy on their own, I serve them with a giant – GIANT – plate of vegetables with dip. We are talking 1 pepper, 3 carrots, A FULL POUND of mushrooms, and broccoli.

I start dinner prep when the boys get home after school. They hang out in the kitchen and eat – as they are walking bottomless pits these days – and tell me about their day. Something about me being occupied with knives and vegetables allows them to open up and chat before they scatter to parts of the house that I am not in. If I could give one piece of parenting teen advice, it would be to figure out WHEN they are willing to chat, and then BE THERE at that time.

Back to the pizza. My own pizza is less of a pizza and more of a pita smothered with as many veggies as I can pile onto it, plus Daiya mozzarella shreds. Most vegan cheese tastes like sadness, but Daiya is…pretty okay. At least it kind of melts. It’s decent and serves the purpose, is what I’m saying. I also put sundried tomatoes on my pizza, which you can’t see, but which elevate the whole thing.

Wow, that does NOT photograph well. This picture reminds me of my Norwegian grandpa; he was, shall we say, not interested in consuming ethnic foods such as pizza. He was noted for saying, when viewing a pizza, “Who threw up on the lefse?” Oh, Grandpa. It’s not like all Norwegian cuisine is something to write home about; let’s not forget such atrocities as lutefisk. Whose idea was it to soak fish in lye and then EAT IT? Between my Norwegian and Scottish roots (HELLO HAGGIS) I’ve really covered all the Gross Food Bases here.

Wraps

Truly the easiest meal in the week; slice up vegetables and saute some chicken in olive oil for the guys. Serve with cheese and salsa for those who like it. I even buy shredded cheese which I never used to do but which ironically is less expensive in the long run as there is no waste, since only 2/4 of us actually eat cheese. I do not use Daiya on these because unmelted cold Daiya is pretty gross. Warm up tortillas and everyone serves themselves. Mine consist of a whole lot of avocado, pepper, and tomato, with heaping spoonfuls of salsa.

Will you look at that avocado? Is there anything better than a perfectly ripe avocado? Is there? Sex, I guess, but not too much else.

Taco Thursday

Not quite as simple as wraps, but almost, Taco Thursday is pretty popular. I use ground chicken for the guys, with just your standard package of taco seasoning. For me, I sprinkle black beans with completely unmeasured amounts of cumin, onion flakes, garlic powder, coriander, and chili powder. I just sprinkle until it looks good to me, and then I squirt some lime on top. Delicious and full of iron, protein, and all those good things that people ask about when you say you don’t eat meat. Where do you get your protein? Those questions always make me want to make ribald and scandalous jokes, but I generally try to refrain.

Today is Friday, which is my favourite meal of the week, and which also includes wine! Hooray! I’ll chat about that next time, and until then, stay warm, my friends! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Yes, There Are Good Things About February, We Just May Have To Dig A Little Deeper Edition

You guys, this month is on track to become the coldest February since records began. SINCE RECORDS BEGAN. What is this madness? Every winter there comes a time when I intellectually know that there will be a time and a season after this, but emotionally I cannot register it. Like, it’s just going to be winter forever now, like we are in Game of Thrones and the White Walkers are going to come and kill us all or turn us into similarly zombie-like creatures.

Recently I discovered that some people have a favourite season, and that favourite season is winter, and I just cannot at all comprehend it. We are all different and life is a beautiful complex tapestry, but how is that possible? I suppose winter is different in different places, perhaps instead of months on end of spending a solid five minutes just getting enough outdoor clothing on to dart from the door to the car, it’s a soft wonderland of fluffy snow and moderately cold temperatures, that end in an actual spring. Well, we can dream, and although there is no end in sight to this frigidity, I will remind myself that I am not waiting for the trains to get through, living in danger of starvation and ruining my hands while twisting hay to burn.

Where’s my inner invincible summer?

Anyway, on to more positive things. March begins THIS COMING FRIDAY and at some point, although I cannot imagine it right now, at some point the snow will melt and my sunglasses won’t freeze to my face the way they did yesterday, when I walked the dog. February has the reputation of being a very drab month, but it has really flown by. I mean, the orthodontist mess was only two weeks ago! Poor February, it’s not its fault! It’s a good time to review some favourite things for this month.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Yes, There Are Good Things About February, We Just May Have To Dig A Little Deeper Edition

Hearts!

It seems that as soon as the Santas and reindeer disappear from the shelves, there are hearts wherever we look. I love hearts! I heart hearts! So it’s a great time to think about heart-shaped cookies and cakes, and – as of February 15 – price reduced boxes of chocolates. My husband does not give me anything like that, but he did present me with this run top:

Isn’t it cute? The photo is a bit blurry because I had just finished a run. Some of you may remember that last year, he gave me a run tank that said Bee Mine with a picture of a bee on it, which was life-affirming in every way.

Chocolate

Speaking of chocolate, I still had half a box of After Eights left over from Christmas; I chopped them up and added them to one of our favourite desserts, chocolate mousse pie. It was A VERY GOOD IDEA. If you have some leftover chocolate, or want to use up some cut-rate Valentine’s goodies, this is a fun thing to do.

Isn’t that tea towel cute? I think I got it from Bed Bath and Beyond on a nice little Saturday.

I also made this cake on the weekend – I didn’t use leftover chocolate, but I did layer it with ganache, chocolate buttercream, and raspberry filling, and it was extremely tasty. I’ve been trying to get comfortable with my frosting tips, and although I have a long way to go, I’m slowly improving.

Another recent chocolate dessert was this dairy-free version of my mom’s eclair recipe, which she had gotten from a cookbook that she had in high school. I used coconut oil instead of butter, and whipped coconut cream, and everyone loved them.

It’s Asparagus Season Somewhere

Let’s segue from chocolate to produce, shall we? Is there anything more exciting than seeing the price of produce decline? Probably. But it is a pretty big thing in my life, given how much money I spend on fruit and vegetables every week. It is sure not spring here but it must be somewhere because asparagus is a third of the price it was in January, and just today I was able to buy four pounds of strawberries without feeling faint, particularly since four pounds of strawberries are going to last us between two to three days, if we are lucky, and by “we” I mean “me” because no one else grocery shops in this house. Roasted asparagus though! It’s a promise that spring will be…well…not right around the corner but coming someday. And it’s also on the fast track to Flavour Town.

Flavour Town

My friend (HI TARYN) and I have a running joke about Guy Fieri. Sometimes, because we are wild people, my husband will flip the channel to Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives on a Friday night. I know! Usually by the time he does this I’m either half asleep or half cranked from drinking wine on the couch, but when I see a few minutes of it, I enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong: I find the food featured on it universally disgusting. I spend a lot of time saying My god, how can anyone eat that? but that’s pretty judgmental of me since many people do, voluntarily, and with much enjoyment. However! My favourite part about the show is Guy Fieri’s reaction when he eats the house specialty. He never has a bad thing to say about anything. I really like that. I like that if he doesn’t seem to love something, he merely gives some random description about the food. Wow, there’s a big hit of garlic in this, and I can really taste the cilantro! But if he loves it, it’s a one-way ticket to Flavour Town.

Today I was teaching a class and I noticed one student’s water bottle. After class I asked if I could take a photo of it.

I didn’t ask her why she had this water bottle, I just felt it was enough that it is in existence.

The Year of the Runaways

This book, you guys. This book. Every single spare moment I had, I was reading it. I needed to know what happened, I needed to know how it was going to end, and then when it ended, I was completely bereft. I’m still thinking about it all the time. Can I go back in time and re-read it again for the first time? No. I cannot. I also can’t conceive of what to do now that it’s ended, so I am simultaneously reading Scottish History for Dummies and The Gift of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Are Supposed To Be and Embrace Who You Are. Why am I reading those two books after this amazing piece of art? They were next on my hold list. I’m learning a lot about William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, I’ll say that. Also, that I should ask for help more often.

See? Lots of great things about this month; we just had to look for them. What are your favourite things in February? xo

Eating a Rainbow: Stir Fry Night!

Thank you EVERYONE who reached out to me after my disastrous week. Friday at 4:45 I was pouring myself a very generous glass of red, and after three (large) glasses I ended up going to sleep at 8:30 pm. My husband looked at me nodding off on the couch as we watched a documentary on travel in Ireland, and gently suggested that maybe I would be more comfortable in bed. Maybe! Maybe I would be. Zzzzz.

After a nice solid ten hours of sleep, I felt like a new woman. After all, everything was okay. The new orthodontist fixed my son’s broken bracket, and mentioned that of all the patients he has seen from the scandalous fallout of having a criminally unethical bankrupt orthodontist, we are the luckiest ones, the ones who are the least-worst-off. I am breathing a sigh of relief that I had rescheduled my son’s appointment due to his snowboard day at school; if I hadn’t done that, we would have been much worse off. As it was, I called the office manager of the interim orthodontist, the woman who had been so helpful to me during all this, and told her that she had behaved ethically and with integrity, and I was very appreciative of her. She said I was the only person who had said that, and that mostly she was dealing with, well, a mess and some very angry and distraught parents. As well you might imagine, but it wasn’t her fault.

You never know when a little kindness will help lift a person up. In the midst of all this, I baked my usual heart-shaped cookies on Wednesday; no matter what else, I felt that Valentine’s Day must not go unmarked by the baking of thematic cookies. I took some in to the new orthodontist office for the staff, and I’m not saying that THAT is the reason I was able to get my son in get his bracket fixed on the Teacher’s Convention Friday before a long weekend, but I’m not NOT saying that either. I’m just saying, being kind helps.

It’s been a short week – I can’t believe it’s already Thursday! – and it has been a good one. We had some Very Good News from a medical standpoint, which decimated my Very Big Stressor. We had two days of not-terrible temperatures, and although we are back in the thick of it, cold-wise, just having a two day respite was enough to buoy me up. Then, yesterday I was pushing my very heavy grocery cart through the not-yet-plowed parking lot at Superstore. The snow was thick and very soft, and my torso was literally horizontal as I pushed through. Effort-wise, this is the CrossFit of grocery shopping. Finally the cart got stuck and I could not budge it, not at all. It was only three cars away from my car so I abandoned it and started to take my bags and bins, one by one, to the car. A man who was in the midst of plowing the parking lot, but was in another row, noticed. He stopped his plow and RAN over to help me, dragging the cart backwards to my car. It was such an unexpected act of kindness; there are many good people in the world, let’s remember that.

Speaking of groceries, it’s time once again for Eating a Rainbow! As I mentioned in my meal plan, I make some kind of stir-fry once a week. There are three types I cycle through: Pad Thai, Thai Coconut Curry, and what is known in this house as Noodly Stir-Fry. There are two common threads in these meals: a) I use about 10 cups of vegetables for each – if you want to eat more veggies, you need to cook more veggies, is my motto, and b) the guys get sauteed chicken breast that is splashed with soy sauce after cooking. As for vegetables, I use a combination of carrots, mushrooms, peppers, and, with the exception of Noodly, broccoli.

Pad Thai

I wrote about this long ago at YMC, but it has evolved quite a bit from then. Start with the veggies, as above, and chicken, if you’ve got meat-eaters. Or “carnies” as I will forever call them.

Make the sauce: mix together 1/4 cup each seasoned rice vinegar and soy sauce. Whisk in 1 teaspoon of cornstarch. Add 3 tablespoons each sesame oil and lime juice. I also use a tablespoon of brown sugar, but I realized that I forgot the sugar this past Tuesday and no one, including me, noticed. So possibly omit. Then stir in a heaping teaspoon or maybe two of chili garlic sauce. In a large wok, pour 2/3 of the sauce over the vegetables and cook until tender-crisp – this usually takes me 10 minutes, no more. Don’t overcook unless you like soft veggies. Then add cooked rice stick noodles – I use a 250 gram package, but I think I need to up that with growing kids who love this meal and leave almost no noodles for my husband and I. I drizzle sriracha sauce over mine, and add 1/4 cup cashews and some fresh cilantro from my little downstairs grow-op. I’m using the old YMC photo because hey, I never stage my food anymore and it looks really pretty.

Don’t forget to artistically drop cashews around.

Thai Coconut Curry

To make the sauce for this, I copied from my friend Melody (HI MELODY) years ago, and have made it my own. Take a veggie stock cube – I use one of those squishy ones from Knorr – and add about 1/4 cup of water. Then I put a few squirts of Bragg’s Soy Seasoning in; how much is a mystery. Maybe a tablespoon or two? I don’t know. Then I add a tablespoon of brown sugar, a couple of pressed garlic cloves, and a whole bunch of grated ginger. I essentially grate ginger until it looks like an insane amount of ginger, then I grate some more. You might want to dial that back, if you’re not a fan of ginger. Mix in a heaping teaspoon or more of Thai red curry paste, and about 1/2 cup (full fat!) coconut milk. After that’s done, I throw in the mushrooms and about a cup of frozen edamame, and cook for a couple of minutes. Then I add the rest of the veggies and cook for 8-10 minutes, being sure nothing is getting gross or mushy. I serve this over rice, again with 1/4 cup cashews for me and some fresh cilantro.

See, I really don’t stage things anymore. There IS rice underneath there, you just can’t really see it.

Noodly Stir-Fry

This one is probably my favourite, and it is not so much a recipe as a “recipe.” I pour some sesame oil – maybe a tablespoon – into the wok and add 2-3 cloves of pressed garlic and, once again, a ton of grated ginger. Like, a ton. Like a six-inch piece of ginger root. Again, this may or may not be appropriate for you, but it works in the ginger-loving Boyhouse. Then I put all the veggies in and douse generously with seasoned rice vinegar and soy sauce. How much? I have no idea. Maybe a 1/4 cup each, but I really don’t know. I never measure this recipe, I just pour. As I said before, measure with your heart, people, measure with your heart. Cook for ten minutes or so and then add in cooked noodles. I use the ones that are labelled “Chinese Style Steam Fried Noodles” and they take about 1 minute in boiling water to cook. I do a quick taste test and sometimes add a bit more sesame oil, rice vinegar, or soy sauce, and then I sprinkle my plate with cilantro and cashews, because I cannot get enough of either. Peanuts would be nice here too but I rarely use them. My older son uses a lot of sriracha on this dish, but no one else does. I guess he’s living the spicy life.

So there you have it! Stir-fry night, a very popular night in this house. Lot of veggies, lots of flavour, and very easy to put together. There is quite a bit of vegetable chopping involved, but I time this so it’s early in the week, when I have more dinner-making energy.

Smooth Criminal

Remember how I was joking about the orthodontist office, how the orthodontist who purchased the practice from the highly-respected, retiring doctors suddenly “stepped away” from said practice, and another orthodontist stepped in? Remember how I joked that maybe one day I would go to the office and it wouldn’t actually be an orthodontic practice anymore, just a dark deserted shell of a lease?

Well.

My husband was alerted by our insurance company that the forms we submitted were not correct. I was having an extraordinarily busy week, but Tuesday between classes I zipped over to the office to pick up the correct forms. When I got there, it was dark and the door was closed, but not locked. I opened it and was surprised to see all the assistants and desk staff sitting in the waiting room, all in casual clothing. On a Tuesday. At 11:45 pm. I explained my problem and the main receptionist took me to the desk and printed off a number of forms. She said they were having a “staff day” which, frankly, isn’t a thing, but I’ll get to that. I left, feeling somewhat unsettled, but I had the forms so that had to be something, right?

The next day, I was in the Superstore parking lot when I got a call on my cell from the interim orthodontist’s office manager. She explained that the orthodontist who “stepped away” really went bankrupt and although the other orthodontist had tried to keep the office open, there were all sorts of legalities that were popping up that precluded that. As I was absorbing this information, she gave me an option: I could continue with this orthodontist in the other office across the city, or I could just find a new orthodontist.

To back up a little, the last couple of weeks have been of the “just keep swimming” type. It’s just life, you know? Life is busy and hectic and joyful, but there has also been a significantly stressful thing that I have been dealing with. Add that to giving my cataract-ridden dog eye drops every few hours, and carrying him up the steps when he has been outside for more than five minutes, due to the extreme cold. Have I mentioned the extreme cold? We are in what is cutely called an Alberta Clipper, and it has been the longest, coldest stretch of weather since 1998. To give an idea of how cold it has been, every single day since February 1 the temperatures have dropped into the low minus twenties at night, windchill factors in the minus 30s and 40. After my Tuesday afternoon class, I left the studio thinking it suddenly was warm and beautiful outside; when I got to my car the temperature read -17. I have become so hardened that -17 seemed balmy. In addition, my garage door opener broke so every time I went in or out of the garage – which is many times a day, hashtag “mom life” – I would trudge through the snow, fight with our ill-fitting back gate and squeeze through, and open up the man door. So putting all these things together – plus, “ladies’ holidays!” – and I was, to quote from Shrek, a donkey on the edge.

I unloaded the groceries from the car, noting that I had an hour before I had to leave for my afternoon appointment. I thought to call the pediatric dentist for a little bit of guidance here, because, as you may imagine, it is not every day that an orthodontist goes bankrupt and leaves all his patients to fend for themselves. I mentioned to the receptionist, with my voice cracking, that I was a little upset right now, because of my son’s orthodontic treatment. “Oh,” she said kindly, “Dr. Halpern. I know.” At that point the dam burst, so to speak. I started to cry. I cried like an overtired two-year-old who missed her nap to spend the afternoon at the fair, ate cotton candy for the first time, and then, at the end of the afternoon, accidentally let go of the helium balloon given to her by the nice lady at the promotional kiosk. I cried and cried as I watched that theoretical red balloon float away, getting smaller and smaller as it floated to oblivion, probably to meet its demise in a wooded area somewhere to be consumed by, and subsequently kill, a beautiful member of the wildlife community. I sobbed so hysterically that I couldn’t breathe, as the receptionist spoke to me in a soothing voice, my mascara running down my face like Tammy Faye Bakker.

As we all know, hysteria isn’t that useful a coping mechanism. I somewhat collected myself and, while I was having a nervous breakdown, my husband was researching nearby orthodontists and calling to see who would take our son at this point. He found a place five minutes away who would give us an appointment the next day, and when I called to confirm, I was so relieved I started crying again. The office manager at the disgraced clinic was working for free, trying to help patients, and told me to get there before 3:00 and she would get help me with some administrative things. I quickly and badly fixed my makeup, and rushed over with a pounding dehydration headache, feeling hungover and swollen-eyed.

Even with all this I feel like we dodged a bit of a bullet: we are out some money but not a lot, and with my son in the early stages of orthodontia, we are better off than many, if not most, of the patients. We found a new orthodontist who is NOT a criminal, and as an added bonus my husband fixed my garage door opener. Yesterday I was on the go from 4:15 am to 3:00 pm, when I took a small break to give myself a mani-pedi and regroup a little. I was feeling much better about everything, and then my son broke a bracket last night after dinner.

Insert giant sigh-slash-rage.

Well. There are many, many worse things in the world. All of these are Princess Problems, most definitely. And yet. And yet they are still draining, and I currently feel like a wrung-out rag of a woman. I’m so tired. But there are many bright points: the new office was kind enough to squeeze us in on this Friday of Teacher’s Convention, before a long weekend. I have held off on drinking all week, despite being very very tempted, and tonight that temperance will be shattered with a nice bottle of Cab Franc. We are having my favourite dinner – Greek salad and pita with hummus – and Barkley was groomed yesterday, which has resulted in a giant Gund stuffie of a dog. Tomorrow, after all, is another day.

Barkley, helping me unload the groceries.

Barkley, wondering if he will ever find out who’s a good boy.