• My baby’s faces

    My children have very expressive faces, or so I’m told. The boys especially, I think. When they’re smiling, they light up the room (like their papa), and when they’re angry, it’s plain as day—and you better watch out.

    The other day The Baby Nickel came up to me while I was sitting on the sofa. In the handful of seconds it took me to snap these photos, he covered the following expressions.


    I’m soon going to have to drop “The Baby” part of his name and simply call him “Nickel” (he is four years old, after all) … but not just yet. He’s still my baby, now and forevermore.

    And now, for three Baby Nickel Vignettes.

    Vignette Number One
    He still, believe it or not, asks to nurse, but only every once in an eon. He flat out refuses to believe me when I tell him there’s no milk left. He thinks I’m pulling his leg, and he throws back his head and laughs uproariously. And then he attempts to prove me wrong: “You drink milk, and then if you don’t pee it out, it will stay inside you. See? You still have milk, Mama!”

    Vignette Number Two
    Back when Sweetsie turned six, I recounted the story of her birth for the edification of the whole family. It’s one of our birthday traditions and the kids love it. I was telling them about how Sweetsie got stuck when she was coming out and I had to push and push and push— when suddenly the baby Nickel interrupted me. “I helped you, Mama! I was pushing with my feet!”

    I stared at him blankly, not comprehending. And then I got it! He believes he was in my body all along, just hanging out there waiting for his turn to be pushed out! And in his free time, he gave me a hand … or a foot.

    “Thanks a lot, kiddo,” I said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

    Vignette Number Three
    The other day the Baby Nickel was nuzzling my neck, smooshing his face up against it and breathing in my scent in huge gulps. So I asked him, “What does my neck smell like, huh?” He thought for a second and then said, “Coffee.”

    About one year ago: A word about marriage. “Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us together today. Wove, twue wove…” Sorry.

  • The case of the flying book

    Last night Mr. Handsome and I ate a tremendous amount of popcorn and grape juice while watching Nacho Libre. If you like Napoleon Dynamite (which we do), then you’ll like this movie—ridiculous, zany, and fun—the perfect movie to watch after a day spent fighting with your spouse (don’t ask).

    So … after the movie I hop into bed and read a bit from my book, Leaving Ruin (about as different from Nacho Libre as you can get). Soon Mr. Handsome hops into bed and rudely sticks his nose right up against the pages of my book. (To his credit, without his glasses/contacts, he’s blind as a bat.) My wrist does an involuntary flicky thing and the book whacks Mr. Handsome in the face. He yowls, and then his hand does an involuntary flicky thing and Leaving Ruin sails out of my hands and onto the floor by the bed. I sputter frumpily and then lean waaaay out over the edge, trying to retrieve the book while still staying in my cozy little nest. Mr. Handsome plants his feet on my backside and pushes. I press my hands on the floor to keep my balance. Then, with one hand, I pick up the book and turn to look at Mr. Handsome whose feet are still pushing (yes, it was an awkward position). My book-wielding hand does another involuntary flicky thing and the book takes to the air once again, this time landing with a thunk on Mr. Handsome’s face. He yowls again, this time in real pain, and shoots up out of bed. After a couple minutes, during which I squat on the floor and alternate between shaking uncontrollably with laughter and trying to act sympathetic, he regains composure. There is no blood. But this morning there is a definite red line across the bridge of his nose, stretching from one side to the other.

    I’m still chuckling.

    About one year ago: Skillet-Blackened Asparagus.

  • A logical progression

    When I made smoky fried chickpeas, I didn’t even come close to using the entire bag, so I followed Deb’s suggestion and cooked up some spinach to go with them. It was a smart idea.


    Here’s my advice to you:

    Do you still have some lumps of spinach taking up space in your freezer? Haul it out right this very minute and set it on the counter to thaw!

    No spinach on the premises? Buy some spinach seeds and plant them ASAP!

    No space for a garden? Head to your local farmer’s market and buy yourself a hefty sack of green!


    And here’s some more advice, un-spinach related and free of charge to boot:

    Kids whining when you give them work? Give them more work!

    Tired of washing clothes? Don’t wear any!

    Sick of seeing your progeny planted in front of the TV for hours on end? Haul the box out to the back yard, hand them some baseball bats, and let them show you what kind of damage they can do!

    Your electric bill is too high? Don’t turn on the lights!

    Husband left his dirty clothes on the floor by the bed? Toss them out the window!

    Any other problems, vegetal (ha! no pun initially intended) or familial? Send them my way and I’ll solve them for you. I’m going through a logical phase.


    Back to the spinach and chickpeas. Make this dish, okay? It’s nourishing and satisfying, not to mention tasty as all get out.


    My mother ate hers with a dollop of yogurt on top, and I’ve been eating it that way ever since.


    It’s the logical thing to do.

    Chickpeas with Spinach
    Adapted from Deb at Smitten Kitchen

    This dish can be eaten many different ways: atop buttered toast, as a side dish with a scoop of plain yogurt, or, when topped with a runny fried egg (don’t turn up your nose! it’s good!), as a main dish.

    6 tablespoons olive oil
    ½ cup bread crumbs (or one thick slice of bread, crumbled)
    3 cloves garlic, minced
    1 10-ounce package frozen spinach, drained (or one pound fresh, rinsed)
    ½ teaspoon cumin
    ½ pound dried chickpeas, cooked and drained (or two 15-ounce cans)
    3/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
    ½ cup tomato sauce
    ½ cup oven-roasted tomatoes, chopped, optional
    dash of smoked salt
    ½ – 1 teaspoon salt
    pinch of red pepper flakes
    black pepper
    1 ½ tablespoons red wine vinegar
    lemon wedges

    Saute the bread crumbs in three tablespoons of olive oil. Once the bread starts to brown, add the garlic and cumin and continue to saute till the garlic is brown. Transfer the garlicky crumbs to the blender, add the vinegar, and briefly whirl.

    Put the remaining three tablespoons of olive oil in the skillet and saute the spinach. After the spinach has wilted (or just heated through, if using frozen), add the remaining ingredients (including the toasted bread crumbs), except for the lemon. Heat through, adding more tomato sauce (or some water) if you’d like it to be a little less thick. Taste to correct seasonings (you may want to let it sit for a couple hours to give the flavors time to meld), and serve hot, with lemon wedges.

    About one year ago: Spinach-Cheese Crepes.