family thanksgivings growing up

thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. growing up, my extended family would gather at my grandparents' house in west texas for thanksgiving, which was spent eating too much pie, playing spoons or canasta late into the night, drinking wine, climbing their mountain, and sometimes, going to a star party at the McDonald Observatory, or taking a trip to Marfa for the famed modern art museum. i also spent lots of time holed up with the huge collection of sci-fi books my grandfather had acquired and avoiding chores. it was always a highlight of the year, especially seeing all my cousins. i remember one year we made 11 pies (for 40+ people). i also seem to remember that my uncle james made a stellar dressing. and my aunt roberta usually contributed something very untraditional but delicious. i will never forget that green chili with venison. i loved that my grandmother always had cheese and bread in the fridge when we arrived from our 8-hr long drive—and espresso and a big tin of biscotti for breakfast. and my favorite was to see all my aunts in the kitchen, laughing and reminiscing together while they cooked.

i really miss my family during this time of year, now that we live in Georgia and it usually doesn't work out for us to get back to texas. but this year, we are making thanksgiving at our house! it is quite exciting, though i would much prefer to have all my family around me to help make (and eat) it. and since the only thanksgiving dish i've ever in my life made is pie, i thought that this year we'd go ahead and make everything! sounds reasonable, right? actually, my in-laws are making most of the sides, but still.

yesterday i got a head start with the gravy and a spicy red pepper cranberry relish. today it's dressing and pie-prep, so that hopefully tomorrow there won't be a crazy amount of chaos (of course there will be, otherwise it's not thanksgiving, right?).

i'm so excited. especially for the pie. :)

remembering to treasure this

when i'm in the middle of a hard night of little sleep, which is usually followed by a long day (of no napping)—which seems to be happening a lot recently, it can be easy to want to check out. to let my mind wander to the weekend when wilder's playing on the floor. to check my email while i'm feeding him. to moan when he wakes up from only a thirty-minute nap. it's hard to be "on" every minute of every day.

but sometimes in bed at night loverboy and i watch videos we've taken of him on our phones and then, as i'm watching a video from only a month ago of him, i remember how fleeting this time is. and i'm encouraged to keep being present for every moment. i re-remember how exquisitely, painfully precious these every moments are. how evanescent. it makes me sad a little. but mostly, it makes me happy that i get to spend these moments with him. no matter how sleep deprived. i'm lucky.

now, if you so choose, behold the wonder of wilder's first time on the swings:




those happy feet kill me

saturday at the park

hello from the park! sometimes, on chilly grey saturdays, the only thing for it is to go to the park.

wilder loves swinging. i'm not sure but it almost seems like he could swing for hours, which is astonishing all in itself. but, as it's the only thing he can do at the park so far, it's always kind of a short trip. i guess the truth is mama can't push a swing for hours.

strings! and tags! the importance of them supercedes all other concerns.

even slides. slides are of no importance whatsoever.

what are we moving?

mama is much too excited about the slides.

life in these parts

my baby is growing up too fast. and also, we stuck our heads outside for a bit yesterday and it was lovely. i'd forgotten just how much i love this time of year. it's visceral. the crackly leaves, the smells of fire, the darkening skies, the dreams of hot cocoa and toasty marshmallows.

we've been hunkering down here a bit, while papa works really hard, and so the past three weeks have gone by like a blur, with probably lots to say, but not a lot of energy to say it.

but papa came home early for the second night in a row and the weather outside is delightful and we pulled the last of the meals i froze in preparation for baby out of the freezer so i haven't had to cook all week! and, thanks to daylight savings, i almost feel caught up on sleep. it's really quite nice.

so here's just a few photos from last night of my two handsome boys. we really love it when papa is home. we also love boxes.

pumpkins and candy

although we don't celebrate halloween, this season is practically begging you to stuff your face with candy, carve a pumpkin or two (the one on the left is my first one ever!), and have a Harry Potter marathon. and so that's what we've been doing...

growing up, my mom and another family we were close to would get together and have treasure hunts for yummy treats like pumpkin pies instead of dressing up and trick or treating. but these days, it's all about the store bought candy. except not the scream cadbury eggs. ew, yuck!

my favorite candy is twizzlers. usually i try not to buy them because once i have one, i can't stop myself. it's frightening.

johnny's so long at the fair

on saturday we bundled up the baby and drove down to the Georgia State Fair, which moved this year (apparently, according to the Houston Chronicle which seems like an odd place to learn about the Georgia State Fair...) to a new location: the parking lot of the Atlanta Motor Speedway in Hampton. now, if concrete and yellow parking lines under foot don't scream Fair! to you, i can't say as i recommend it. it was much more like a carnival than a fair. re: toothless, one-armed hagglers selling candy apples and the chance to win a mask for $3! and the smallest carousel i've ever seen.

but on a happier note: fried everything. and a petting (feeding) zoo!

the sun was shining. the day was cool. we rode the carousel, we won some masks, we fed some goats and we conquered many fried foods.

we didn't see any clowns. but there was one really cute Wiley Bear.

and his mama and papa

portrait of a mother

my guilty motherhood issues begin with a pizza.

i made a pizza the other night for dinner. you know. you saw it. it was not an artisanal, made-my-own-dough-from-scratch pizza. not a gluten-free pizza (sorry loverboy). not even a whole wheat pizza. a straight up pillsbury-dough-boy, cheddar-cheese supplementing-the-"pizza"-cheese, cut-up-tomato-masquerading-as-toppings pizza. and i'm not ashamed. i am, kind of. but, really, no i'm not.

loverboy says to me, as we're stealthily shoveling pizza in our faces in the den because it's farther from the nursery and the baby has been sleep-regressing (yeah, that's what we're calling it) and also he can hear your socks crinkling is how light a sleeper he is, "this pizza is totally a rebecca pizza."

"the taste of it reminds me of you. the simplicity of it."

that's when i really looked at the pizza and realized how bad it was. so, either i'm cheap or i'm lacking in finesse or i'm boring. (if you say 'or all of the above' i'll hurl something. probably a cheap pizza.)

i don't know if you know this but being compared to lame pizza is not exactly an ego booster. because here's the thing, the pizza does say something about me.

it says: when i put my mind to it, i can make a very lackluster pizza.

and also: i'm not a perfectionist. and yes, i'm maybe kind of utilitarian. as in, robotic.

i've been accused of being robotic about things before — cooking, usually. which i consider a terrible and accurate criticism. terrible because i do actually like cooking. or i used to. i think. i mean, i love food. i love cooking utensils. i love reading recipes. i like gatherings around food. so, i must like making food, right?

and accurate because, um, bad pizza.

here's the thing—feelings of guilt and inadequacy reach their peak in motherhood. or at least, it seems to be that way in this day and age. everywhere you look, you are reading about what it means to succeed, whether women can have it all, or have enough and what that looks like anyways. and if not, then you're reading about what you should be doing. seriously, my to-do list has hit an all-time freneticness. (i have to say though that loverboy has always been amazingly supportive and helpful and never pressures me to make dinner or complains about what i've made. the pressure and guilt are all self-inflicted.)

but then i had another thought: dinner is at the bottom of my to-do list. and i'm okay with that, at least for right now. (clarification: making dinner is at the bottom. eating it is always at the top!;)

last week was one of those weeks. you know those weeks? when your loverboy is working late hours and it's up to you to entertain, bathe, feed and put the baby down, whilst simultaneously making your own dinner and also, maybe keeping the rest of this machine we call a household going. it is a machine. and yes, sometimes what you get is a cog in the wheel, not roses for smelling. (mixed metaphors are my true artform).

i don't know how anyone else does it. those wonder moms who somehow create culinary masterpieces, work full-time jobs outside the home and probably have 2 or 3 more munchkins than i have. or those single moms who never have an extra set of hands around. let's nominate those women for medals of honor!

mothers are machines, in the best sense of the word. but—and maybe this is my real point?—artists, too.

i may not make a succulent, bon-appetît-worthy spread every night—or even every week.

i may pinterest far more cute, home-made, craftsy projects than i actually do. (i might not even do one.)

i may sometimes take a picture for the sake of having a picture, instead of getting the artsy shot.

i may shop at target instead of cool, vintage stores.

i may occasionally (usually) make pumpkin pie with canned pumpkin.

i may buy my mini cacti at ikea.

but i am an artist.

my artistry is—

learning the perfect kissable spot on wilder's back to get his laughs out.

cooking, blending, freezing, thawing and mixing vegetable after vegetable to find one he likes.

wiping the water away from his eyes during bathtime. and towelling him off ever so gently afterwards, so that he will not get grumpy. 

using special voices to make goodnight gorilla a little more interesting. 

row, row, row-ing your boat on the living room floor during the dinner hour (aka fussy hour), instead of kneading dough in the kitchen. (if i'm gonna knead dough, there better be scones happening!)

there will come a day when i will like the kitchen again and whip out mouthwatering, gourmet dinners (and i dream of jeannie, too;).

but for now, i am shaping something else. he matters more, i think.

thanks to store-bought, pillsbury dough boy pizza crusts everywhere for enabling this true confession of an epiphany,

xx, 

mother B.

of pumpkins and cookies

cookies are really hard to make. i know you probably think that's ludicrous because everyone can make cookies. even my friend's kid makes them. he's three. to be fair, i'm pretty sure judging by the fact that they each had a neat little picture of the cars characters on them, they were break and bake. but still. i know. cookies are baking elementary. right?

wrong! cookies are the holy grail of baking. yeah, you didn't see that coming, did you. well, it's true.

to me, pies are a cinch in comparison. and listen, i enjoy cutting the butter into the flour just as much as the next person, but that's really as hard as it gets.

but cookies....aaaah. where do i begin? i've been trying cookie recipe after cookie recipe for hello, all my life, and sometimes a recipe will come out right and then the next time, poof! it's all off. i can't figure it out.

the chocolate chip cookie is the worst. my mom made chocolate chip cookies every week for my entire childhood. maybe even twice a week, who knows. and yet, i can't find and reproduce the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe more than twice. it's tragic is what it is.

a few years ago i was really, really lusting after the perfect pumpkin chocolate chip cookie. it was mystifyingly hard to find even one recipe. and then the few i did find were just awful. (or else i'm no good at baking cookies???)

so, as soon as i saw this recipe on hey natalie jean, i had to make them! and let me tell you, they are really as good as she says. i can't vouch for their ability to be just as good the second time around, but this first time, they were top notch.

i'll let you be the judge. go bake your own. these are about to all be in my tummy.

my (yester)day

in photos:

"a morning without coffee is like sleep." — someone wise

cooked carrots for baby food.

playtime.

he didn't want to eat his carrots.

mama eats lunch on the floor.

a little writing while the baby naps.

making myself presentable...at 2 p.m. we're on baby time.

free sweet potato and toasted marshmallow Jeni's ice cream in Decatur!
and now this day is a success!

the bouncer is one cute dude. maybe i'm biased.

all the dishes are almost done. for now.

carrots mixed with sweet potato. a no go. 

freezing the carrots and rinsing strawberries in vinegar water.

afternoon snack and baby signing time. on the floor, of course.

this little bear gets grumpy after his bath. too much toweling!

story time!

this basket is never empty for long.

my idea of cooking dinner these days. 

for the love of all pumpkins

as a kid i loved pumpkin pie so much i'd ask my mom to make it for me instead of cake for my birthday? i kind of ODed on it to the point that now i only like pumpkin pie around thanksgiving. sometimes i wonder if i make it just for the sake of nostalgia. but i do love pumpkin bread and pumpkin lasagna and pumpkin muffins and pumpkins cookies! pumpkin anything, it's a fact, is sure to brighten up any day. except of course if you don't like pumpkin (apparently pumpkin is not big in Russia, or at least wasn't when a friend of ours was growing up there).

and there is no better way to gear up for fall than with a saturday morning trip to a pumpkin patch! can you believe that i still have my doubts about Georgia, when there are all these fun things to do around? i mean i never went apple picking or pumpkin patching in texas, but there you have it, there is no logic to the heart.

anyhoo, we pumpkin patched and much fun was had by all. i'm still thinking about those fried raspberry pies. why not fried pumpkin pies, is what i wanted to know. but the raspberry was darn tootin' good.

okay, prepare for a million pumpkin photos: