Pork Vegetable, The Other, Ahem, Chicken Noodle

I have a full-service mother. While in college, she sent enough goodies (snacks to keep us fed and other items like bubbles or silly putty to keep us laughing) in care packages to feed and entertain not only my sister and I, but all our friends as well. My parents were those that drove in separate vehicles to drop us off at college so we could haul all our things, unloaded all our stuff, assembled loft beds my father had built, and then took us out to eat before making the two-hour drive home (most likely leaving a stash of homemade cookies or brownies behind). My parents came over last Friday to take Audrey off our hands so I could focus on taking care of Jason's bum knee. They also brought along a pork loin to eat for dinner. Like I said, full-service. We ate half of the pork loin that night and had half left over. The meat was so tender, it fell apart when touched with a fork, which gave me an idea.

Last summer while eating at Patti's Restaurant (well, we actually ate at Bill's - same food, shorter wait), Jason and I tried a Pork Vegetable Soup. It was fantastic. I kept meaning to attempt some sort of rendition once we got home. I never did. Until Friday. The soup I made isn't the one we had at Patti's. Patti's had lima beans in it and didn't have several of the items I threw into the mix. The soup I made could just as easily be called Pantry Soup or A Handful of This, A Smidge of That, because I basically threw in whatever we had on hand. So here it is, by the smidgen and handful:

I started with 2 quarts of chicken stock brought to a boil and added:
Half a diced onion
3 hearts of celery diced and an equal amount of diced carrots
Several cranks of fresh ground pepper and sea salt
At this point, I turned the soup down to a simmer, letting the veggies soften a bit before adding:
The pork loin (probably a pound), shredded
1 cup of elbow pasta
1 can kidney beans, drained
1 cup of frozen corn kernels
Then, I tried to think of what seasoning to add to give it some pizazz. Sage is a common herb used to compliment pork, but it can decrease a nursing mother's milk supply. So, when all else fails, I figured I'd toss in a bay leaf (it seems to work for Racheal Ray) and let the pot simmer just a bit longer.

The recipe was a success. Definitely something we'll bring to the table again and play around with depending on what we have on hand the next time around. You've got to love a dinner that just comes together, especially when your mama has done half the work for you.

Sowing the Seeds of Love

Audrey came home with a note from school last week asking her to bring Valentines the following week for her classmates. So yesterday, we got down to the business of creating some Valentine's cheer. First, some coloring (of course, the real objective is to get as much green ink on one's hands as possible),

followed by taping (not always in the right place),

tapped off with an abundance of glue,

and those Valentines practically grew themselves. I love, love, love the ones she assembled with the hearts upside down (who's to say they aren't right-side up?). LOVE. She signed them with an "A" and I filled in the other letters for her.

Some toothpicks from the kitchen cabinet, an old grocery bag, scraps of pink felt, fake grass recycled from the Easter basket stash, and a handful of eight-year-old (seriously!) construction paper, and Audrey's ready to sow some Valentine's joy, as only a three-year-old can. I wish I could eavesdrop to watch her hand these small cards out to her friends, whose names she excitedly recited as she made each one - to see her pride in giving a little of herself to her friends - Valentine's Day uncontrived.

Finding the Pony

Jason's first boss following college, the brilliant and much-loved Mr. Sims, relayed a story to him (which he later shared with me) that has stuck in my mind the last eight years. The reason for the telling of the story (as well as some of the details) are a bit fuzzy, but the tale goes something like this:

A group of scientists were doing a study to monitor the different behaviors of children. Twin boys were taken to a horse farm and led to the stalls. Each boy was taken to a different section of the barn, but both were left alone in a horse stall, empty except for manure-laden straw. After a while, the scientists came back to observe each boy's behavior. The first boy was angry, kicking the straw with his feet, voicing his disappointment for the disgusting environment he'd been left to. They found the second boy covered in dirt, laughing as rolled around in the straw, tossing some up in his hands. When they asked what he was doing, he replied, "With all this crap lying around, there has to be a pony somewhere!"

We have often thought back to that story, and "finding the pony" has become a catchphrase at our house. Last week was a straw-rolling-child-seeking week. As we dealt with numerous things medical and more things tiresome, finding a gem amidst the dirty straw moments of the week was needed.

Hello, pony.


Someone got a new hat. The striped hat is becoming somewhat redundant around here, I know. But I do love a baby in sweet soft stripes, and this one knits up so quickly, it's perfect for a little waiting room downtime. Oh, I do love a good pony.

For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 56

What can I say about last week? Last week was not a time for note taking (at least not notes related to nonmedical issues). So I have no anecdotes for you. What I do have is the good fortune of two healthy, vibrant children, who have been doing the following over the last week:

Audrey has begun referring to herself in third person: "Audrey wants donuts," "Audrey does." She is also quite the storyteller (and much better at writing dialogue than her mother). We walked down the street on Friday. We passed a neighbor playing basketball. She created a short story about the situation before we made it to the next house. It went a little like this:

Audrey: Why is he playing basketball?
Me: I don't know. I guess he just wanted to play.
Audrey: I think he asked his Mom if he could play. She said no but he came out anyway because he wanted to. Now he's in trouble.

Every time Audrey and I spend time apart (after preschool, for instance), she gives me a full report of things as she sees them when she comes home. It goes something like this:

She returns from preschool. She tells me who got mad at who and why, peppered by several, "then he said, they she said, then the teacher said." (Yes, I can only imagine what form these stories will take in middle school - and I'm sure by high school I will be wishing she would tell me something, anything, with any sort of dialogue tag attached).

Nathan does not have his sister's gift for narrative yet. But he has also expanded his methods of expression this week. In smiles! Smiles!! New, huge, open-mouthed smiles. Those little smiles? They have been the best medicine this week. Much, much needed good medicine. Oh, the privileged life we lead.

A Quick Update

Thank you to all of you who have been sending your thoughts, prayers, and generous offers of help our way. We are doing well. Jason was blessed with a wonderful surgeon, helpful medical staff and a quick surgery. (And a HUGE thank you to Julie for hosting a sleepover, which lasted well into today, for Audrey last night and to my parents for entertaining her tonight so she didn't clobber Daddy with too much love, and to that little guy of ours who slept from the moment we went to bed until our alarm went off at 3:30 am - a whole SIX hours! - this kid's a keeper.) Everything looks good at this point. We are home and resting as much as we can, and hoping that Jason will make a full recovery soon. Poor guy, he's in for an achy few days. So if you have a few good thoughts or prayers to spare, send them his way, would ya? Thanks. You're the best. Now back to that resting...

Know When to Fold 'Em...

I never thought I'd write the following sentence. I am so happy to have just had food poisoning. The alternative - exposing two little ones to the stomach flu - is a little more than I could bear this week. Between Jason's purple toe, Nathan's congestion, my food poisoning, and getting ready for Jason's knee surgery tomorrow and everything that comes with an active Daddy being in a state of recovery for a week, I think this is where I admit I've been bested and take the rest of the week off from this space to recuperate and prepare for the week ahead. Audrey, for her part, is moving at full tilt, wondering just what's wrong with the rest of us.

Wishing you an uncomplicated rest of your week, and if you must have complications, here's to the best-case scenario.

There Will Be Days...

There will be days when you will wake up (and remain) tired...

:: because the night survived was one in which your congested newborn never found comfortable rest.

:: because your husband, already scheduled for knee surgery, will most-likely have broken his big toe (on the other leg) while playing soccer with your daughter.

:: because your toddler (the only one to get rest) will find a pen you didn't know was sitting around with which to doodle upon the freshly-painted wall, or will find new creative uses for soap, or both.

:: because you may find yourself chasing your dog down the driveway.


And, on those days, you will find comfort in small, sometimes unexpected, places...

:: locking eyes with your newborn as he breaks into his first (albeit, probably gas-induced, but wide-eyed, nonetheless) awake wide-mouthed grin after a much-needed peaceful sleep.

:: the call from your husband informing you that he plans to hobble his surely-broken toe to a restaurant to grab dinner because he wouldn't expect you to cook on a day such as this.

:: an "I love you" from your energy-overwhelmed toddler, just after you've disciplined her, no less.

:: the warmth of your dog's head rested against your thigh.

:: a voicemail from a friend (who you are too tired to call back) just calling to check in before she catches a plane.

:: the soft feel of yarn, and the whimsy of a striped pattern coming to life.

:: a stolen moment to sneak in a few pages of reading, which reminds you that (for us) medical attention is a short drive away, warm beds and blankets are waiting just upstairs, and that somewhere, your rough day is someone else's dream.