It’s All Fun & Games ’til Someone Gets Hurt
As if life with a brand-new baby (child #3) isn’t hard enough…
Last week I received the following email:
I am plonit bat plonit, I’m ploni ben plonit’s Mom. He talks about Beernut a lot. I was wondering if you got the flyer about the Pump it Up night and if Beernut would be going? Ploni was hoping Beernut was going to attend. Please email me or call me if you need any additional info.
Well, this was a great email to receive. Beernut does not often get such positive feedback from his peers. It so happens that this young friend is in Beernut’s social skills class and loves Nintendo as much as Beernut does. We were so thrilled that we thought it was a great idea for Beernut to attend the party…even though it was on a school night.
Given that Peach was just shy of two weeks at this point, I stayed home with the baby and Poppyseed and sent Beernut to the party with our (fabulous!!) sitter. Not five minutes after they arrived, disaster struck.
Apparently, and no one knows exactly how this happened, Beernut’s face somehow got in the path of Ploni’s older brother’s foot. And knocked out his two front teeth. Beernut has something of a blood phobia — and gums bleed. A lot. He was hysterical in the background while I was on the phone with the sitter. I was so sleep-deprived that I could not recall if his upper teeth were baby teeth or permanent teeth.
A trip to the dentist the next morning showed that they were in fact baby teeth. Good news. However, his two front lower teeth (which are adult teeth) were now loose. And the dentist also feared that Beernut had sustained a slight jaw fracture. So off we went to the oral surgeon — who determined that no fracture was revealed on the panoramic xray. However, Beernut would need to be on a soft diet for a MONTH in order to allow the lower teeth time to get over the trauma.
It’s going to be a loooooooon month!!
Peach Has Arrived
Peach arrived on 13 April 2007, corresponding to 25 Nisan 5767, and was entered into the Covenant of our People on Friday, 20 April, corresponding to 2 Iyar.
He has dark hair and a gentle nature.
And we are grateful!
The Perfect Hard-Boiled Egg
There are three foods that I always connect with Pesach — matzah, strawberries, and hard-boiled eggs. It isn’t that I don’t them during the year. It’s just that I eat an enormous amount of said items during the 7 days.
No longer living at my childhood home, I am now responsible for the boiling of my own eggs. I suppose PC could take care of it, but this is one of those times that he pulls the “but you do it so much better than I do” card. Really. (He does it with baked potatoes and making the bed too.)
Now why he thinks I do it so much better got me to thinking; is there really a “better” way to hard-boil an egg. I always thought that you just toss a pot of water on the stovetop, wait for it to boil, put in the eggs, and voila! Hard-boiled eggs.
A quick internet search has taught me that apparently there is a “correct” way to boil an egg.
And so I present to you —
The Perfect Hard Boiled Egg
Recipe By : Julia Child, “The Way to Cook”
Serving Size : 1 Preparation Time :0:40
Categories : Cheese/Eggs Family Recipes
Amount Measure Ingredient — Preparation Method
——– ———— ——————————–
For 1-4 Eggs:
1 to 4 Eggs
2 quarts water — * see note
For 12 Eggs:
12 Eggs
3 1/2 quarts water — * see note
For 24 Eggs:
24 Eggs
6 quarts water — * see note
Special Equipment_________________________
High (not wide) Saucepan with cover
Bowl w/ice cubes & water (large enough to
completely cover eggs)
*note: water should cover the eggs by 1 inch, so use a tall pan, and limit
cooking to 2 dozen eggs at a time.
1. Lay the eggs in the pan and add the amount of cold water specified. Set
over high heat and bring just to the boil; remove from heat, cover the pan,
and let sit exactly 17 minutes.
2. When the time is up, transfer the eggs to the bowl of ice cubes and
water. Chill for 2 minutes while bringing the cooking water to the boil
again. (This 2 minute chilling shrinks the body of the egg from the shell.)
3. Transfer the eggs (6 at a time only) to the boiling water, bring to the
boil again, and let boil for 10 seconds – this expands the shell from the
egg. Remove eggs, and place back into the ice water.
Chilling the eggs promptly after each step prevents that dark line from
forming, and if time allows, leave the eggs in the ice water after the last
step for 15 to 20 minutes. Chilled eggs are easier to peel, as well.
The peeled eggs will keep perfectly in the refrigerator, submerged in water
in an uncovered container, for 2 to 3 days.
NOTES : The perfect hard boiled egg has a tender white, and a yolk properly
set. There is not the faintest darkening of yolk where the white encircles
it (a chemical reaction caused by too much heat in the cooking process).
Eggs cooked this way can also be peeled neatly.
*********************************************
Yes, you read that correctly. FORTY minutes to hard-boil a few eggs. A bit labour intensive for what it is. However, I am forced to admit that the eggs tasted great and there was absolutely no green discolouration. Even PC declared them “terrific!”
What Really Matters
It appears that once again I am going against convention in not discovering the gender of our baby prior to birth. I get asked daily — usually by strangers — if I know what I am having. When I respond that we are waiting to find out, the shock clearly registers on the face of the individual. As though I’ve said something so completely shocking and out-of-the norm. The follow-up question is usually “this is your first?” as though that might explain our odd decision. When it comes to light that this is my third and that we have both a son and daughter, the response is always the same.
“So it doesn’t really matter, then, does is.”
I find this extremely strange — and a little insulting. First of all, it never really mattered. Not the first time. Nor the second time. And not this time. Though I certainly desired the experience of mothering a son and a daughter, I always figured that any mothering experience would be wonderful regardless of the gender of the child. The fact that I happen to already have one of each in no way impacts what I hope with this one.
For all I really want is a healthy child.
Would I love for Poppyseed to have a sister? Of course! I can’t imagine making my way through life without my sister. Or sisters — now that I’ve acquired two more through marriage.
Do I think that life would be even better for Beernut if he had a brother to share in life’s adventures? Absolutely! And Poppyseed would certainly hold an important position as Daddy’s only girl 🙂
But I can’t have it both ways. And to be quite honest, either scenario will be a blessing to our family. It just irks me that people make assumptions about gender desirability.
Furthermore, since I ascribe to our tradition of preparing for the impending birth by not preparing (!), there is no logistical reason of discovering the gender prior to the blessed event. As a hard-core devotee of supersition, I certainly would not want to attach too much personality (or God-forbid the actual name) to this potential life. Even with modern medicine, I won’t breathe easy until the little one is safely delivered.
So no — it doesn’t matter. It never did.
Nesting
According to the baby books, it is common for soon-to-be moms to experience an uncontrollable urge to prepare for the arrival of baby. This urge is known as nesting. This apparently is a natural instinct seen throughout the animal kingdom and in humans is thought to give the monther a sense of control and accomplishment as the birth nears.
Nesting can come in a variety of forms. Some women find themselves unable to pass by a bathroom without scrubbing it with a toothbrush. Others have been known to iron anything in the house that couldn’t out run them. And yet others have cleaned the kitchen cupboards and organized everything by size to the point that you make sure the silverware patterns match when it’s stacked in the cutlery drawer.
Sadly, my nesting urges have shown my true colours — to read everything in sight! I’ve read a couple THOUSAND pages in the past two weeks and there is no sign of stopping. A lot of chick lit (Wife in the Fast Lane, The Reading Group, Friendship Test, Alphabet Weekends), some classics (Marjorie Morningstar, Rebecca), contemporary fiction (The Namesake, Intepreter of Maladies), and some mystery (all of Elizabeth George’s books except for her most recent).
“Where does she find the time?” you ask yourself.
Well, I spend a lot of time at the hospital being monitored each week. So that gives me some built-in reading time. Plus, I always seem to find the time somewhere. It’s like breathing. I find the time to do that too.
I’m betting that PC would probably prefer that I iron or sort or clean.
Clueless
It truly is amazing that I manage to make my way through this world being as clueless as I am.
We had a lovely Bar Mitzvah service at shul yesterday. Noticing that the hue of the yarmulkes was a kelly green, I asked the young man if green was his favourite colour. He laughed, “No, it’s for St. Patrick’s Day.”
“Really?” I replied, “when is that?”
“Rabbi, it’s today.”
I mean, I did know that it was in March…sometime…
And I also knew that yesterday was the 27th of Adar.
That’s got to count for something, right??
Ah…Modern Conveniences!
There is no way that I would have survived as a housewife in any prior generation. I just don’t have it in me. I’m not that great of a cook. Can’t really bake. And my housekeeping skills are just OK. I have never mastered a hospital corner and it would take personal coaching from a Gap employee before my folding skills were up to snuff.
My kids, who haven’t been bothered by the absence of a balabuste in their lives, recently rejected the Kraft Parmasean cheese that they has previously enjoyed in favour of “the good cheese that Bubbe makes for us.” Unable to compete with Bubbe’s culinary prowess, I figured that they’d just need to make do with what we’ve got.
Lucky kids! It turns out that Kraft debuted a new product called “Grate-It-Fresh.”
That’s right — cheese that has its own grater attached.
It just doesn’t get any easier than this 😉
Don’t Count Your Chickens…
So Beernut has been on a certain medication for several months and it has been mostly effective. However, we’d noticed that his afternoon dosage wasn’t working and he was experiencing some side effects. No prob. The pediatrician added another afternoon med to the mix with hopes that all would be well. One caveat: Beernut would need to swallow this pill. Unlike his other meds, which we are able to pour the contents onto his tongue, this med loses its effectiveness if taken in this fashion. Dr. P sent us home to practice. “How does one practice swallowing medication?” you might ask. Applesauce and M & M’s. Beernut loved practicing. And it worked much of the time. So we moved on to the medication. And at first, it worked fabulously. In fact, Beernut exclaimed that he’d like to take all of his medication this way. “Great!” I thought. “I’ve actually managed to teach my kid how to swallow pills”
Well, it was short-lived. More often than not, the pill got stuck on the way down…and then came back up. I figured that chocolate pudding would do the trick. And it did — once!
Needless-to-say, Dr. P came up with Plan B — a totally different approach that does not involve pills, applesauce, or pudding.
A Pointless Consequence
Beernut often seems to suffer from what I like to thing of as the “droppsies.” No matter what is in his hands…it will end up on the floor. Like the remote. The remote must end up on the floor a minimum of a dozen times a day (I am not exaggerating!). Of course, this might explain why the remote hasn’t been operating at its usual level of efficiency of late.
This morning, after the remote had landed on our nicked-up hardwood floors for the 9th or 10th time today, I took away Beernut’s remote privilege. Not five minutes later, I heard the channel being changed and could actually feel the steam streaming out of my ears.
However, when I reached the family room, the remote was exactly where I had left it. “Look Mom! I figured out how to change the channels just by pressing the buttons on the TiVo.”
Heck, I don’t even know how to do that. So while it was a wasted punishment, at least I will still be able to watch TV when (and it is when, not if) the remote ceases to work.
Baby Talk
So out-of-the-blue Beernut asks about the party we are going to have when Baby (aka “Peach”) is on its 8th day.
We should have a cake that says “Welcome to our family.”
That’s a great idea, I respond.
I know…we should have peaches because that’s our special name for the baby while it’s in your tummy. And Jordan Almonds too, of course.
Of course.
You know, we should also get the leaf for the tree at the party too.
We have a recent tradition at our shul that at each Family Service, we honour anyone who has put a new leaf up on our Simcha Tree during the past month. For some reason, Beernut has really taken to this new tradition and has been anticipating the right moment to honour the birth of our latest addition.
It’s nice to know that he’s been paying attention 😉
Frume Sarah is Shabbos-observant -- in a Reform way, that is. Please note that from Friday afternoons until one hour after sundown on Saturday evenings, Frume Sarah will be unavailable, in observance of the Jewish Sabbath.
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