Day 6: Keep your lady bits to yourself.

I've let my running go long enough.

A few weeks ago, I started the couch to 10K program again.

I try to run a few mornings before work, when I'm at my best. (I will NEVER come home and exercise, it's just not in my DNA. I have always been a morning gym person.)

It's been crisp and cold in the mornings, which is my favorite weather in which to run. I tend to leave the house before 6am, drive down to where I work (and miss all the traffic because it's so early!), park at my office, exercise, the hop back into my car and drive 5 minutes up the road to the gym to shower and get ready. When I'm finished, I'm a quick traffic-free ride to work.

WIN-WIN.

The only problem with this plan is that I don't get to see #maxmars in the mornings, which is really tough.

Anyway, I'm not really "friends" with anyone at the gym, so I'm the last person who makes small talk in the locker room. Most of the time I'm trying to make myself invisible. I tend to put my head down and mind my business.

In my years at this gym, I have run into QUITE the characters.

There was the woman who sprayed aerosol deodorant in her crotch.

The older lady who refused to ever have clothing on, and who would PROP HER FOOT UP ON THE BENCH while naked so that she could moisturize ever nook and cranny in her body. (You can't unsee that.)

And who could forget the well-endowed young lady who used to blow dry her hair wearing nothing but a thong and a parka.

So the other day I was minding my own business, blowdrying my hair, when I looked up into the mirror in front of me. I could see a woman behind me walking around in her birthday suit. She stopped at the scale (directly in my line of vision in the mirror, btw) and hopped on.

How women can pretend it's no big deal they're naked is beyond me. But there was this woman, naked as the day she was born, standing on a scale, all of her...skin...everywhere. It was...she was...let's just say I wanted to call my waxing lady for her.

She looked up and caught my eye in the mirror and I looked away embarrassed. She was a train wreck and I couldn't look away. She didn't care, she was probably proud. I could have sworn I saw her do a little shoulder shimmy in my direction.

After weighing herself she disappeared (where I could only hope she was putting on some clothing), when she emerged again. This time she was wearing a flesh-colored bra (which was ill-fitting and hadn't see its underwire since the Carter administration) big white panties (in fact, the term 'Granny Panties' actually refers to this lady's unmentionables), beige knee socks and black loafers.

Knee socks and black loafers.

This was wrong on so many levels, but most importantly: who puts shoes and socks on before they put their pants on???

She trudged into the hair drying area and proceeded to pick up a blow dryer – threadbare bra, knee socks, and all – and started to dry her hair like it was nothing. 

I was shell-shocked for the rest of the morning.

I don't care if you're comfortable in your skin, love who you are, blah blah blah. I'M not comfortable with who you are! So please, don't unleash anything in my presence.

Cover yourself up, ladies!

This has been a public service announcement.

Day 5: One year of parenting under our belts.

Well, we've parented #maxmars for a whole year, and he's thriving (have you seen his thighs???), so obviously we're parenting experts now, right??

Hardly.

I'm not even an expert at my own child. 

For example, yesterday I brought him favorite book – the one he giggles through and always wants me to read. He took it from me, gave me a look of disdain, then dismissively tossed it on the floor. I thought he loved that book. Shows you what I know.

But just because I'm not an expert doesn't mean I'm not going to share all of my parenting advice experience with you.

One Year In: Advice for Parents of Newborns

• You're never really ready. Sure, you've bought a crib and you have one million onesies washed in Dreft and folded neatly in a drawer. But somehow that doesn't prepare you for the overwhelming panic you feel when the hospital puts that 2-day old helpless baby in your arms and sends you off into the world. 

• Baby books, baby shmooks. You don't need them. Unlike your mother, you have Dr. Google at your fingertips, who will be both your best friend and your worst enemy.

• Your baby will have explosive poop at the worst possible moment. For me, it was in church, during his baptism, wearing a satin white outfit, while the priest was speaking. Twice.

• Don't set unrealistic milestone goals. No child has ever gone off to college without being able to hold his own bottle, lift his head, crawl, walk, talk, or use the toilet alone. It will happen when it's going to happen. Don't rush it.

• You should throw a big first birthday party. As a parent, it is your responsibility to make a big deal out of the first birthday (and let them eat cake!). After that, size doesn't matter.

• You will start to not care about things that you were once passionate about. It's inevitable. It's okay to let them go.  

• You will be vomited on. I was lucky – Max made it until 3 days before his first birthday before his first vomiting incident. But he did wait until I took him out of his car seat and was holding him before he let loose...three times.

• Don't sweat the small stuff. There's A LOT of small stuff. You will know when it's time to freak out (trust me, you'll just know in your gut). Otherwise, go with the flow...everything else is small potatoes.

• "Nap when they nap" is a myth. No mother does it. There's usually too much laundry, dinner-making, blog writing, errand running, etc to do.

Whatever your first year is like, it will be special and perfect. Enjoy every minute!

Day 4: Easy Weeknight Chicken

Weeknight meals are always tough, especially after working all day and then trying to spend some QT with #maxmars...leaves little time for cooking.

Last night I whipped up this little chicken number: chicken thighs with white beans, kale and cherry peppers. It was pretty good!

I served it alongside some roasted brussels sprouts, but it would have been delicious over spaghetti squash or with a salad, too.

Chicken And White Beans

NOTE: all measurements are approximate, as I was making this up as I went along!

Ingredients:

• 6-8 bone-in, skin on chicken thighs, drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper

(use 6 if they are bigger, or 8 if they are smaller; they have to all be able to fit in the pan together to simmer)

• 1 can small white beans, drained and rinsed

• 5-6 cherry pepper slices, from the jar, cut into slices

• 4 garlic cloves

• Chicken stock (1-2 cups)

• 1 small bunch kale, chopped

Directions:

• In a large sauté pan, over medium heat, brown the chicken thighs on each side in batches, removing from pan when done

• If you have too much oil in the pan, please remove some until you have about 2 Tablespoons of oil/fat

• Add the garlic and stir frequently for 1 minute (don't let the garlic burn)

• Add white beans and cherry peppers and stir

• Season with salt and pepper

• Cook the beans and cherry peppers until the beans start to slightly brown

• Add 1-2 cups of chicken stock to deglaze the pan; you should have enough liquid in the pan to cover the beans and provide a nice amount of liquid to finish cooking the chicken thighs

• Scape up the browned bits on the bottom of the pan

• Add the kale and stir until kale is coated in the liquid mixture

• Nestle the chicken thighs back into the pan in the liquid

• Reduce heat to low, cover and simmer until the chicken thighs are cooked through (about 15-20 minutes)

Day 3: Ten Reasons I'd Make a Horrible Housewife

There are holidays to celebrate everything these days:

National Button Day!

National Vodka Day! (wait, I celebrate national vodka day).

Today we celebrate two wonderful things: the delicious sandwich, and the doting housewife.

PSA: To be clear, there's a difference between Stay At Home Moms and Housewives.

SAHMs work harder than people who go to the office. They're on call 24/7 to take care of their families and keep the house running – no small task.

Housewives, however, are a different breed, from a different era. Think: June Cleaver and Carol Brady. Pearls and aprons. Hoovers and housework.

THESE are the housewives I want to celebrate today.

A year ago, I was on maternity leave. And it was wonderful. I was able to be a SAHM for 4 months, spending tons of time with Max, nurturing him, and establishing a routine that not only created balance in his world, but would then help other people (aka: his grandmothers) take care of him. Sure, I cooked dinner every night…because I love to cook.

But in no way was I a 1950s housewife.

I'd make a horrible housewife. Here's why:


1. No sweatpants. 1950s housewives didn't even own a pair of yoga pants. In fact, they barely wore any sort of pants ever (except for Carol Brady who would don fancy polyester pantsuits and scarves, but even then, she was wearing a suit). They wore dresses! With stockings! And (platform) heels! And pearls!

"Is there anything better than baking in stockings?"

2. Vacuuming. Sucking up dirt sucks the life out of me. Oh, and vacuums back in the day weighed about as much as a small car.

"Oh, I could do this all day! Vacuuming is really cathartic." – said no woman, ever.

3. Dinner at 5pm, SHARP! Five o'clock is practically the middle of the afternoon! But I get it, my husband has just gotten home from his fairy tale job that somehow allows him to work a full day, commute home, and still walk in the door barely minutes past 5pm.

"May I cut your meat for you, too?"

4. Cooking a feast, every day. In the 1950s, a housewife and her husband would sit down to dinner at a table covered with casseroles and bowls of food that could feed an army.

"It only took me 7 hours to whip up this mid-week turkey. Who needs to wait until 
Thanksgiving? My man loves a browned bird any day of the week!"

5. Not drinking. Now, the famous TV housewives of today certainly drink, but I'm talking about the ladies from back in the day. They may have had a martini waiting for their husband, but they never took a sip of alcohol. Ever. Maybe they stashed a bottle in the laundry room?

Sing it, sister.

6. It's all about HIM. There were those times that our lovely housewives did stop tending to the home for her man in order to leave the house and run errands...for her man. Stops could include: the Market (to pick up detergent to do all of her man's laundry), the butcher (to pick up her man's favorite cut of meat for dinner), the dry cleaner (to pick up and drop off her man's suits and ties), and the bank (to deposit her man's hard-earned money).

The 'honey do list'...the early years.

7. Ironing. I believe I'm allergic. Embarrassingly, I've been known to not wear articles of clothing for an entire season because they were too wrinkled.

"Dear me, I wish I had MORE laundry to iron!"

8. The phone tree. I hate talking on the phone. If it were up to me, I would communicate with everyone via emails, texts and Instagram posts. For housewives, however, the landline was their lifeline to the outside world! Forget long, boozy lunches with the girls (which is my preferred activity for catching up with friends), instead it was hour-long conversations about the floozy down the street and soap operas.

"Oh hi, Betsy! No, it's perfect timing. I just finished baking cookies 

for no reason whatsoever! Tell me ALL about the Ladies' League meeting!"

9. The "Housewife Haircut". Curly hair + coiffed 'mom 'do' = disaster.

Hurricane-proof.

10. The Perma-Smile. Do you think a husband ever walked in the door at night, kissed his bride on the cheek and asked, "How was your day, sweetie?" Only for her to answer, "Actually, it was rather quite shitty, dear."

No it doesn't.

Day 2: Delicious Fall Entertaining.

I'm a warm-weather girl for sure (the hotter the better!), but if I had to pick a favorite season, it's Fall.

The changing trees. Boots and sweaters. And every day is perfect hair weather.

My other favorite thing about the Fall?

Comfort food.

Crock pots and casseroles. Chilis and stews. Braising and roasting.

One of my favorite meals to cook when we're entertaining is chicken pot pie. I know that CPP was in its heyday in the 70s, but it truly has made a delicious comeback.

My go-to Chicken Pot Pie recipe is from Ina Garten. It's creamy and hearty and the perfect cold-weather meal.

I've made these just like Ina, as little individual pies with crusts. However, this weekend, I deconstructed them a bit, and put my own little Halloween twist on them.

Get Ina's full recipe here; see below for my adaptation.

Chicken Pot Pie

This pumpkin "crust" would be perfect for Thanksgiving, too!

Ingredients – The Filling

• 3 whole (6 split) chicken breasts (boneless) OR 1 cooked rotisserie chicken
• 3 Tbsp olive oil
• 5 cups chicken stock (I use College Inn low sodium)
• 2 chicken bouillon cubes
• 1 1/2 stocks unsalted butter (butter=better)
• 2 onions chopped
• 3/4 cup AP flour
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 2 cups medium-diced carrots, blanched for 2 minutes (blanch them, trust me)
• 1 10-oz. package frozen peas
• 1 1/2 cups frozen small whole onions
• 1/2 cup minced fresh parsley leaves
• Salt & pepper to taste

Directions

• Place chicken breasts in baking dish, rub with olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast the chicken breasts in a 350 degree oven for about 30-40 minutes. Once cooled, cut into cubes. 
• If you're using a rotisserie chicken, simply remove meat from the bones and set aside.
• In a small saucepan, heat the chicken stock and dissolve the bouillon cubes in the stock.
• In a Dutch oven, melt the butter and sauté the chopped onions over medium-low heat for 10-15 minutes, until translucent.
• Add the flour and cook over low heat, stirring constantly for 2 minutes.
• Add the hot chicken stock to the sauce.
• Simmer over low heat for 1 more minute, stirring until thick.
• Add 2 tsp salt, 1/2 tsp pepper and heavy cream.
• Add the cubed chicken, carrots, peas, onions and parsley. Mix well.
• Continue to cook the mixture on low for another 10 minutes, stirring constantly.

Ingredients – The Crust

Instead of making a pie crust and individual pot pies (who has time for that?), I use refrigerated pie crust to create crust "toppers" for the chicken pot pie.

• 1 package refrigerated pie crust, at room temperature for 30 minutes then rolled out flat
• seasonal cookie cutters

Directions

• Preheat oven to 425 degrees
• Roll out pie crust on flat surface and use cookie cutters to cut into shapes
• Place dough shapes on ungreased cookie sheet
• Bake until golden brown

To Serve

Ladle chicken pot pie filling into bowls. Top each with a crust.

Enjoy!

Day 1 NaBloPoMo: How to dine at a restaurant with a baby in 25 easy steps

While on vacation in the Berkshires we were all eating at an Italian restaurant one night. Max was in a flirty mood, batting his eyelashes at our waitress and watching her walk by.

After she delivered our entrées, she squatted down next to Max's high chair.

"He is an awesome restaurant baby!" she explained, smiling at Max.

I beamed.

Best. Compliment. Ever.

And it's true. Right now in his life, Max is a fantastic restaurant baby. Maybe it's because his first restaurant outing was at 3 weeks old. Or that he enjoys crowds. Or that we perfectly time every trip to a dining establishment down to the minute.

Whatever it is, it's allowed us to still do what we love best: eating out.

Even if we're enjoying dinner with the blue hairs at 5:30pm.

How to Dine at a Restaurant with a Baby in 25 Easy Steps

1. Forgo any notion of eating dinner when it's dark outside.
2. Think of your most favorite restaurant, where you have delicious cocktails, sumptuous appetizers, and delectable entrees over a 3-hour period. Then pick a different place.
3. Planning for the night starts when your baby gets up in the morning: Nap and bottle times, amount of stimulation, finding an outfit that is comfortable and non-restricting, yet presentable in public. Don't wait until the last minute.
4. Remind yourself that eating at the restaurant just might not happen, and that eating at home is just as good.
5. Pack the diaper bag. This should be done early, off of a list, and double-checked no fewer than 3 times. The proper restaurant diaper bag should contain the following: 
• bottle
• dinner
• back-up dinner in case he doesn't like the first dinner
• bib
• enough snacks to last a week
• soft toys that make no noise
• plastic toys that make minimal noise
• lovie
• back-up lovie
• diapers
• wipes
• iPad with favorite shows ready to go at the click of a button
6. Agonize over the nap schedule. Stick to it. Go to extreme measures to make sure the nap happens, and that it happens for as long as it's supposed to.
7. Call ahead to the restaurant to either make a reservation, or if one isn't needed, to let them know you're coming, and that you're coming with a pint-sized dinner companion. Secure a high chair.
8. Make peace with the fact that you're going to eat about 3 hours earlier than you used to before you had kids. In fact, this will be your 'new normal' time for dining out.
9. Choose your restaurant wisely. You are dining with a small child. 5-star French is out of the question.
10. Even though you're not eating at the best of the best, you can still eat at good restaurants, as long as you go early enough not to disrupt the Saturday night dinner rush.
11. Obsessive over the online menu all day long. Scrutinize the ingredients of each dish. Fantasize over the frisée. Obsess over the octopus. Pine over the polenta.
12. Choose a time to dine that works best with YOUR babies schedule. For us, it's 6pm. This allows us to feed Max dinner at the restaurant, a few little snacks, then his bottle right before we're leaving.
13. Arrive ON TIME. Or even early. Give yourself the opportunity to choose between multiple tables during your reservation time slot to select the table that will work best for your needs.
14. Plotting out your spot in the restaurant should be handled with as much dedication and care as charting the next spaceship launch. Windows = good. Squeezing between two tables = bad.
15. Learn how to ignore the stink eyes you'll get from fellow diners.
16. Have an emergency "We have to get out of here RIGHT THIS MINUTE" game plan. Be ready to implement it at a moment's notice.
17. As soon as you get to the table, make sure everything has a 2-foot radius clear of the baby. This includes: place mats, bread dishes, silverware, napkins, salt and pepper shakers, wine and water glasses, menus and candles.
18. The minute your server appears, take action: give them any extraneous items from the table and order yourself a drink. (And, if your baby is eating off the menu, it might be a good idea to put their order in, too).
19. The minute that baby sits down it's SHOWTIME. You are the lead in the production. There are no understudies. You are always on and you get no breaks.
20. Who says you have to give them full spoonfuls of food? Putting half the normal amount of food on the spoon allows you to stretch out their dinner. It also allows you to shove a forkful of your own dinner into your mouth every now and then.
21. Create innovative games to distract little brains. One time I entertained Max just for a half hour just by making my fingers walk across the table in front of him over and over.
22. Don't drink so much that you lose your eye-hand coordination. You have to be on your game to catch any and all toys that get flung over the side of the highchair before they touch the dirty floor.
23. Don't be ashamed to pull out the iPad. A few months ago were had taken my parents out to eat for their anniversary. Max had finished his dinner and we were still eating so I set up the iPad with his favorite show. Judgy McJudgington at the table next to us gave us a disapproving look, "Oh. I see he's getting his screen time in." Yes. Yes, he is. And he's being perfectly quiet and not bothering your dinner you while he's doing it.
24. Get dessert to go. It's the only way you're going to enjoy it.
25. Remember: he's just a baby. He doesn't know any better. And who cares what other people think, anyway?

Happy NaBloPoMo!

Happy dining!

The NEW Family Vacation

Every year, Mr. KK and I plan a family vacation that includes not only the two of us, but also both sets of our parents and – on the years our vacation does not include an airplane – our dog Vito and my inlaws' dog Dino. (Is this starting to sound like a scene out of The Godfather?)

I'm a planner by nature, so I LOVE putting together our itinerary, which usually revolves around food. I create a detailed agenda for each day, from the activities we'll be doing to what time lunch is. It's Type A in a good way.

This year, however, was our first family vacation with Max Mars. So things were a little bit…different.

our house for the week

(This kid is either going to grow up loving the fact that we all spend so much time together, or he's going to run away at age 11 to get away from us).

the crew

Vacationing with a Baby:

1. This trip will no longer be referred to as "vacation". Other, more acceptable, terminology include: "time away" or "time off from work" and "leaving the house for a week".

2. The number of daily activities on said time away will be cut in half, and be scheduled (as much as possible) around nap times.

Not pictured: Max napping in his stroller.

3. Being the first people to arrive at a restaurant for dinner. Early bird special, anyone?

looks like lunchtime with all that sunshine, 

but no, we're there for dinner

4. Sneaking away to the grocery store is considered 'quality time alone'.

5. Nap time = cocktail time.

6. "Sleeping in" means being able to lie in bed awake until 6:30am before getting up to get Max.

7. Unpacking and repacking the diaper bag a minimum of three times per day. And still forgetting something.

8. Strangers touching my baby. 

9. Using the line: "Can you watch Max while I grab something in my room?", but really meaning: 'Keep an eye on this kid while I pretend to be looking for something in my room but I'm really lying on the bed reading for a half hour.'

10. Countertops filled with bottles, sippy cups and pill boxes.

But we had fun! 10 straight days of Maxwell!