and at that point, you realize the wisdom of his being and clamber into bed beside him, your heart swelling, your previous anxiety seeming like a distant hallucination carried away by the regularity of his steady breaths and the wonder of his little fingers curled up into tiny fists.
My friend G gave me some sage advice this week - she reminded me to ENJOY EVERY MINUTE that I get with this bundle of sweetness. That while the urge to finish projects, clean the house, and all the other sundry noise pulling at my attention can be strong, that those things will wait and that I have a very limited window when he will be so focused on me, his mother. So I'm going to try to go against my essential being and relax a bit and rejoice in the fact that when the Dotytron and I are both vying for his attention, his gaze finds and fixes on me. That he reserves his most special smiles and happiest squawks for me. Because it's not going to be like this forever and when it's time to go over the ledger of my life, I'm going to be very willing to have my dishes-and-laundry-done column in the red if it means my nose-to-nose time with the Boobla is in the black.
He is so very, very, very sweet.
Friday night we had an early dinner - I made a lamb, eggplant, and chickpea stew flavoured with vaguely Middle Eastern spices and a rice pilaf with a crunchy layer of tadiq (the Persian - I think - name for the crunchy layer at the bottom of the rice), which I have been craving since I ate it for the first time when Dr. Rei's mom made it for me, like, 4 years ago. It's THE BEST. There are a lot of tricks to making it, the most important being that you have to use high quality, WHITE basmati rice (in a nod to the Dotytron's long-held preference for white rice over brown). I added some grated carrot and saffron, but next time I might do a proper pilau and add sultanas and pistachios and caramelized onions as well. Fluffy white basmati rice IS addictive, especially when it's accompanied by the textural contrast of a butter-browned, slowly crisped, crunchy pita hat:
We narrowly lost our dodgeball game on Friday. We have a lot of new people on the team this year and we seem to have a pretty strong divide between people who are playing to win and who want to play "for fun." Now, as I've mentioned before, I have a REALLY hard time playing "for fun." I also have a REALLY hard time listening to strategies from players on my team whose understanding of the game is shaky at best. But ultimately, I'm just grateful to be playing again, so I'm trying to curb less sportsmanlike impulses. It is exceedingly frustrating when your team doesn't heed your hard-earned nuggets of dodgeball wisdom though.
On Sunday we went to Momma & Poppa D's house for a birthday brunch for Ehmdo. Momma D made us "daisies" which are eggs cooked in a cream sauce made to look like a daisy. They were most delicious. We also had fruit and I contributed monkey bread. Nany was there too and was totally taken with the monkey bread (as is everyone I've ever made it for):
Then we came home and hung out until the Goosetang clan came over to watch the Super Bowl. We pooled our resources and made a random assortment of foods: crockpot meatballs in bbq sauce, baked brie with pepper jelly, chips & Helluva Good dip, corn chips with guacamole and salsa, baba ghanouj and pita, and these homemade "kit kat" bars that are a Paula Deen recipe - they're freaking amazing...I'll post a picture tomorrow.
Watching the Super Bowl was jokes. We didn't really pay attention to it and instead had a hilarious time consisting of many soon-to-be classic gems, among them:
- trying to come up with a working definition of constipation
- a lengthy discussion about how after I tricked the Dotytron into singing the Beach Boys' Kokomo with me, we decided that our life's mission was to go to all the Kokomo places in Kokomo order (Kokomo itself will be the hardest to execute). This then segued into a conversation about the Kokomo state of mind and how difficult it is to maintain.
- a rousing game of Bananagrams
- Hanbo turning to me and saying, semi-sarcastically, "so, are you excited for the Black Eyed Peas half-time show?" fully expecting me to say "no!" and being somewhat taken aback by my wide-eyed enthusiasm when I said, with the utmost sincerity, "YES!!!" (my logic is that it's better than Bruce Springsteen, or Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers).
- During said half-time show, watching Will.I.Am's antics, I uttered the phrase, "I can't believe Will.I.Am wanted to be the mayor of Haiti"
- A prolonged discussion about the ethnicity of the fourth, oft-overlooked member of BEP (ie. not Will.I.Am, not Fergie, not the Vampire guy - the black-ish [me]/possibly Filipino [the Dotytron] dude who never gets featured).
Today is all about eating vegetables and fruit and getting our cholesterol count back in order. For dinner tonight we're having a curried sweet potato soup with a big spinach salad with all kinds of goodness chopped up in there.