Family Meals Made Easy

In theory, meal plans sound like a great idea for busy families. Plan out your meals for the week in advance, buy all the ingredients in one trip to the grocery store, and it’s smooth sailing, right? Only I’ve never quite been able to get the hang of it. Inevitably, I end up staring into the pantry at 5pm, night after night, a few ingredients shy of whatever dish I’m trying to make. Add in 2 picky, impatient kids, 1 vegetarian, 1 low-carbotarian, and it’s a recipe for failure.

So when a woman I met at Blissdom contacted me about trying out E-Mealz, a site that lets you customize a meal plan for your family, including vegetarian, low-carb, and meals based on sales at your local grocery store, I said “Heck, yeah, sign me up!”

Here’s how it works: you pay $1.25 a week for the service, or $15 for 3 mos. (No, seriously. That’s really how little it costs. I waste 5 times that much each week buying random ingredients I never end up using. Like mushrooms. And weird cheeses.) You can choose plans for 2 or 4-6 people, for a specific store (Walmart or Kroger, for example) or any store. I did the vegetarian 7-day family meal plan for any store.

So you log on to the site and pull up the weekly menu. (See sample menus here.) You also have access to the previous week’s menu if you want. Then you print out the recipes, along with a grocery list, which lists the ingredients you need, listed by aisle. The grocery list ALONE was worth it for me. No more losing scraps of paper on which I’d scribbled “2 bell peppers, froz. spinach, eggs.”

The pros of E-Mealz: how easy it was, how you only buy what you need, and how there are so many options. The cons: how much food the plan produced. I soon realized I couldn’t keep up – with the cooking or the leftovers. On a good week, I manage to cook dinner maybe 4 to 5 times, tops. Then I peter out and it’s takeout and Trader Joe’s frozen entrees. But it’s also because we don’t eat that much food. I soon began off-loading the leftovers to my neighbor. (She didn’t complain.)

The meal plan also highlighted how picky my family is. Unfortunately, there were lots of recipes I had to rule out right off the bat because I knew they’d never fly in my house. Like Walnut Cheddar Loaf. Not happening. But I did try a few new things like Quinoa- and Vegetable-Stuffed Peppers (good, but lots of chopping) and Greek Eggplant (easy and tasty!)

The bottom line: I think E-Mealz is a great idea and the price makes it a no-brainer. It could actually save you money if you’re prone to wasting food like us. For a family that eats pretty much the same thing every night, I say give it a try. For us? Until the kids get a little less picky, I’m better off cobbling together our own meal plan based on the limited recipes my whole family likes. But I sure will miss those print-out grocery lists.

DEAL O’ THE WEEK: E-Mealz is offering 15% off for new subscribers. Sign up here and use the code BLISS at checkout. (Note: this is an affiliate link.)

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: Believe it or not, this Linguine with Shrimp Scampi was a crowd-pleaser in our house. I left out the hot pepper flakes for the kids.

Culinary Goddess...for a Week

The tofu nuggets were a mistake. I see that now. Even when C. dubbed them “tuggets” in an attempt to jazz them up, the kids weren’t buying it. They remained unmoved by the breaded, gelatinous cubes of soybean curd on their plates. Oh, well. Can’t blame a mom for trying, right?

As a New Year’s resolution of sorts, I have decided to step up my game in the kitchen this year. Our meals had gotten so pathetic they barely qualified as meals. Plain pasta and peas. Mac & cheese with broccoli. Slices of turkey, cheese, and apple, naked on a plate, not even combined into a sandwich. I told myself it was because the kids were so picky and my husband was rarely home for dinner, so it didn’t matter. But the truth is, this food wasn’t appetizing to anybody.

So I decided to get more creative, a little healthier and more well-rounded, and actually – gasp! – PLAN some meals in advance. I don’t know why, but meal planning has always seemed like such a chore. Of course, the alternative is that I consistently end up 1 or 2 ingredients shy of a recipe I want to try and resort back to pasta.

Here’s the thing, though: in my house, meal-planning is extra tricky. That’s because a) I’m a vegetarian, b) my husband is currently on a meat-heavy, anti-carb diet, and c) I have 2 extremely finicky children. I’d like to point out that even as a vegetarian, I’m usually the least picky one in the group. It’s true. I’ll eat whatever’s on the menu, just hold the cow.

I’m not gonna lie; cooking has been a challenge so far. And there have been some surprises along the way. For instance, the first meal I made was chipotle shrimp tacos. (I do eat seafood now and then.) To my surprise, both my 4yo and my 22mo gobbled them up. So, let me get this straight. My preschooler will not eat cucumber, but he WILL eat shellfish? And my toddler will turn up his nose at avocado, but finds CHIPOTLES pleasing to his palate? And both of them will eat olives, but not baby carrots. Go figure.

The next meal was a vegetable lo mein. It took some threatening coaxing, but the boys did eat a few bites. C. and I thought it was pretty tasty, although he did balk at the carbs in the noodles. The next night I made the ill-fated “tuggets.” Even I had to admit they were less than delicious. It feels like blasphemy for a vegetarian to admit she doesn’t like tofu, but there you have it. C.’s side dish of garlic-sauteed broccoli was much better received.

Another winner was my veggie Crockpot chili, which the kids scarfed down when heaped liberally with cheese and tortilla chips on top. Personally, I thought the linguini with tapenade, artichokes, tomato, and feta was fabulous. But apparently, even though both my boys will eat whole olives, they will NOT eat them when they’re chopped up. (UGHH!! These kids are killing me!)

Tuna & rice casserole: flop. Anchormommy’s crustless spinach and tomato quiche: hit. (And the ONLY way I can get Riley to eat spinach.) Zucchini bread (while technically not a meal): hit.

Miles and I also whipped up some homemade playdough, which – while not edible – still qualifies me as a culinary goddess. Shut up. IT DOES. I also made Jello, which my mother-in-law introduced to the boys over Christmas. What are you gonna do? Sometimes you have to play to the crowd.

I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty impressed with myself. I’ll be honest: getting my family to eat a healthy homemade meal is almost as thrilling as seeing my byline in a national magazine. Of course, I realize it’s only been a week or so. I better pace myself.

So tell me: have you found any crowd-pleasing meals in your house?

Man Hungry. Must Eat Now.

There’s just no way to approach this topic without making someone mad, so I’m just going to come right out and say it: what is UP with guys and their food?

Picture it: dinnertime, and the kids are going crazy. The baby is screaming and pulling on Mom’s leg as she wills the pasta to cook faster, FASTER, dammit!! The preschooler has collapsed in tears from low blood sugar, yet refuses any healthy snack offered to him to tide him over the approximately 7 minutes until dinner’s ready.

Into this scene walks Dad. Greeting his family briefly, Dad strides into the kitchen, fixes himself a plate, sits down, and eats his food. Oblivious to the World War III scenario going on around him. Unmoved by his children's cries. Unaware that his wife is frantically juggling chicken nuggets and sippy cups in an attempt to feed the animals before they attack. I ask you again, what is UP with this?!

Now, lest you think this is a thinly-veiled reproach of my own husband, I assure you I have conducted extensive field research on this issue. (And by that I mean I have bitched about it to all my closest mom friends.) This behavior is rampant, people. There’s a particularly high instance in households with small, needy, excessively screamy children.

My first theory is, it’s a survival instinct. Cavemen undoubtedly learned to feed themselves first, so that if a wooly mammoth attacked while they were feeding the cavebaby his strained peas (or whatever cavebabies ate), the caveman would have enough strength to protect his family. Makes sense, right?

Somehow, the 21st century suburban Dad held on to this survival instinct, and so his first thought upon entering his cave home at night is not, “How can I be most helpful to my wife?” or “Let me assist in expediting the feeding of my offspring in the hopes of quelling their discomfort.” Instead, it’s, “Me hungry. Must eat now.”

Believe it or not, I see this instinct as enviable, not (entirely) selfish. I WISH I could tune out the screaming and whining and “I want JUICE, not milk, Mama!” It would glorious if I could actually sit down and eat when I was hungry. Can you imagine?

Not choking down a handful of animal crackers or sneaking a spoonful of Nutella while I race to cool the peas and throw them onto the highchair tray. Not imitating a Jack-in-the-Box as I jump up and down to respond to every single request for another drink, an extra napkin, the Elmo fork, help cutting their food, etc., etc., while my own food congeals into a cold blob on my plate, untouched.

I wish I could put my own needs first and teach my children to wait patiently while I prepare their food. But I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.

In the meantime, as one similarly-plagued friend put it, “Why don’t guys just eat a snack on their way home from work?” Now THERE’S an idea. Might I suggest something more fortifying than animal crackers?

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: This is a tasty vegetarian dish that comes together fairly quickly and even my 19 m.o. will eat: “Orzo with Tomato and Fried Tofu.” Pan-fried tofu is mixed with orzo, fresh diced tomatoes, lemon and basil, then sprinkled with feta cheese.

Save the Drama for Your Mama

This headline makes me laugh, because I remember somebody saying once, “Whoever coined that phrase must not have been a mama.” ‘Cause we don’t need more drama, that’s for sure! I also laugh when I think back to those times I thought my life was boring -– dull, monotonous, no excitement. Boy, have things changed.

Now, my days are a rollercoaster of emotions. Sometimes I experience extreme highs, devastating lows, laughter, tears, and more all in a single morning! As my aunt once put it, “Kids are a lot of things, but they’re never boring.” You got that right, sister.

Take the other day, for instance. My 3 y.o. son was in his usual good mood for most of the day, and even behaved himself during a doctor’s visit. So I decided to reward him with a snowball. (For you non-Baltimore natives like me, that’s something like a snow cone.) Of course he chose the bluest, gooiest flavor, which totally could have been sweetened Windex for all I know. Anyway, he loved it. And then we went home and all hell broke loose.

Miles wanted to play outside, but it was past the baby’s dinnertime and plus, I had to go to the bathroom really, really bad. (I have considered wearing Depends so many times it’s not even funny. If you’ve ever tried to use a public restroom with 2 handsy kids in tow, you might too.)

So Miles throws a tantrum. Crying, kicking, stomping, the whole bit. I had to forcibly drag him into his room for a time-out. Meanwhile, Riley realized it had been 20 whole minutes since his last snack and his blood-sugar was plummeting. “FEED ME!!!” his screams insisted.

Sometimes I’m sympathetic to my kids -- it had been a long day, everyone was tired, Miles had been a trooper at the doctor’s -- but at that moment, I was pissed. “I take you for a special treat and THIS is how you act?” I may have yelled. “And your room’s still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it up for 3 days in a row?! Clean it up NOW or you’re going straight to bed!”

More sobbing, thumping, and hysterics ensued as I got Riley’s dinner ready. BTW, feeding that child is like throwing food to the lions. I literally chuck pieces of chicken, pasta, peas, etc. onto his highchair tray as fast as I can, while he shovels them into his mouth as fast as he can. And if I dare dawdle for a SECOND to, say, blow on a scalding-hot piece of food, he screams as if he was the one being scalded. I tell you, whoever says family dinners are a great way to bond and relax at the end of the day is ON CRACK.

At this point, all is silent upstairs in the land of the angry, sticky-faced dwarves. I tiptoe up to take a peek, expecting God knows what. Splintered furniture? Spray-painted walls? Instead, Miles comes skipping out into the hall with a smile on his blue-stained face. “Mom! Come take a look at my room. Ta-da!” he says, sweeping his arm grandly across the now-immaculate room.

“Wow, Miles, you did a great job cleaning up your room!” I enthuse. “I’m so proud of you!” Mwaahhh! I give him a big smooch. And you know what he says?

“You’re the best mom in the whole world.” And he takes his little bipolar self down the stairs to dinner. Is that enough drama for one afternoon or what??

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: For a more nutritious frozen treat, you can’t beat a smoothie. We make them with anything we have on hand, but here’s a yummy-sounding recipe with blueberries, mango, yogurt, and almonds.

I've Got a Bone to Pick with Jamie Oliver

So remember when I blamed my problems on Oprah? Well, now I’m pointing the finger at Jamie Oliver. Dude, why do hate chicken nuggets so much? I’m on board with your plan to healthy-up the American diet. But your constant assertion that anyone can just whip up their own fabulous meals from scratch in mere minutes is FALSE. Let me tell you a little story...

It started when I watched the British chef on the talk show circuit discussing his new show, “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution.” Interesting premise, relevant topic, I’m in. I was feeling a little smug if you want the truth. Or perhaps sanctimonious is a better word.

See, unlike those corndog-munching, Mountain Dew-swilling West Virginians, I feed MY children vegetables. Whole-grain pasta. Organic fish sticks. Tofu, even. (So what if half of it gets thrown to the dog. The point is, I’m serving it.) I would never DREAM of giving my kids Coke or Twinkies. (But the occasional sip of Orangina and a cupcake’s OK, right?)

Yeah, well... then I realized that sweets used to be a special treat in our house. Whereas these days, my 3-year-old demands a cookie, popsicle, or piece of Easter candy after every meal. Sort of contradicts the definition of “special” treat, huh?

And although I did not let a smidge of added salt, sugar, syrup, or the like pass my firstborn’s lips until well past his first birthday, I’ve adopted a somewhat looser approach with Kid #2. Let’s just say he’s no stranger to waffles or bacon. So I guess what I’m saying is there’s room for improvement in our family diet.

But I take issue with the chicken nuggets. My 3 y.o. USED to be a good eater. He devoured avocados, hardboiled eggs, even raw bell peppers. And then things changed. Now I’m lucky if can get him to eat a scrap of protein or a raw carrot, ever. So he eats a lot of chicken nuggets. Lots and LOTS of them. And so does his 14-month-old brother. Don’t judge me. At least they’re the baked kind. Unless they’re from Chick-fil-A.

Anyway, that Jamie Oliver got under my skin. He convinced me I could -- and should -- whip up some chicken nuggets from scratch. The thing is, I’m a vegetarian. People who don’t eat chicken should certainly not attempt to cook it. But I did. And it went horribly wrong.

I bought some skinless, boneless chicken, just like Jamie said. I dredged it in egg whites and panko, just like Jamie said. I popped it in the oven and ... 12-14 minutes later it was still pink and gelatinous. I continued to bake and check it while the kids began to wail from hunger. I continued to bake and check it while I nuked them some frozen peas as an appetizer. I continued to bake and check it while I cursed out Jamie Oliver for disparaging my best quick, go-to meal and forcing me to waste Whole Foods chicken by incinerating it into oblivion.

So no, we did not dine on homemade chicken nuggets that night. Although my husband did choke some down out of pity when he came home. So, Jamie? Maybe it’s easy for YOU to whip up a healthy, tasty meal from scratch. But for us moms in the trenches? Those frozen chicken nuggets might be our last link to sanity.

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: Now that Rachael Ray, she’s a good egg. Her recipes haven’t turned out nearly as terrible for me. Like the Sweet and Sour Thai Noodle Bowls, for instance. You can easily swap in tofu or shrimp if you’re so inclined.

The Cure for Teen Pregnancy

I must have jinxed myself, because I was JUST thinking how Miles has never really embarrassed me before in public. I mean, we’ve had some tense moments in Target, but he’s never said, “Mom, why is that lady so fat?” or “Don’t make me sit next to that scary man!” in church or anything.

Well. Then we went to the playground today. It’s a little one near our house that’s usually deserted, and we go there when we need to kill an hour before dinner. So we show up, and there’s this teenage couple canoodling on top of one of the play structures. I mean, they were in broad daylight and weren’t licking each other’s faces, but they were obviously trying to have a moment, if you know what I mean.

And then WE showed up. “Hi!!” shouts Miles, running over. Faint greetings from the teen lovers. “I’m 3. We’re making a pie. My dad’s getting a haircut. He should be home soon. My favorite toy is my spaceship. It’s in my room. I have a really cool room. It’s messy sometimes. My favorite color is green.” And on and on and ON.

OMG. You’d think the lustful teens would be the ones who were embarrassed, but no. That’d be me. “Miles! Come over here and leave them alone.” He did, for a few minutes, before running back over to play an annoying extended game of peekaboo with the poor, privacy-starved couple.

Meanwhile, I’m chasing Riley around trying to keep him from eating wood chips. “He’s so cuuuuute,” I heard the teen girl say to her beau. Cut to me, shouting, “Riley, NO! Yuck! Don’t eat that!” I pick dirt and bits of wood out of his mouth, then turn back to Miles who’s bellowing to his new friends, “I’m wearing my new boots! I like Spiderman. And I like Batman, too. I got a pock-sicle today. It was green. Green’s my favorite color.”

Now, these teenagers must REALLY have had no other place to go, because they continued to sit on top of the slide even while being badgered by the world’s most talkative preschooler. I finally gave up trying to distract him. Besides, I was too busy keeping his baby brother from taking a header down the stairs and ingesting his body weight in sand.

“See kids? THIS is what can happen if you have unprotected sex!” I was practically broadcasting by my very PRESENCE. Do you think the teen couple took note? Nah, they were too busy giggling and gazing into each other’s eyes. Ah, young love.

Hopefully our little interaction on the playground jolted them into behaving responsibly and considering the consequences of their (potential) actions. Yeah, right. I’m sure once me and my double stroller were out of sight they were like, let the canoodling commence! OK, kids. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: Here’s the “pie” we made for dinner tonight (aka, crustless spinach and tomato quiche courtesy of Anchormommy). My 13 m.o. loves it! My 3 y.o., not so much. But I think he’s coming around since I let him crack the eggs and stir in the spinach this time.

The Falafel Debacle

Did I ever tell you guys about the time I made falafel? No? Well, that’s probably because it was AWFUL. I had this idea that because both my kids like chickpeas I should kick it up a notch and make something fancier than our usual dinner fare (e.g. spaghetti and peas). Plus, I have golden memories of this amazing falafel I had in Montreal one summer when I was studying French there in college. It was legendary, people.

My falafel? Was nothing like that. I knew I’d gotten off to a bad start when the recipe said to use a food processor and, since we don’t own one, I decided to use a blender. Only the bottom third of the chickpea mixture was mixing, so I tried to shove it down with a rubber spatula. When that got chewed up, I picked out the pieces of plastic and tried a wooden spoon. When a chunk of that splintered off, I thought about giving up, but instead I transferred the whole mess in two batches to the Magic Bullet.

Then, it turned out we didn’t have enough vegetable oil to deep-fry the falafel patties so I added some olive oil to the pan, thinking I’d sauté them instead. Healthier, right? So here’s what happened: the falafel dissolved in the oil and I ended up with a pan full of chickpea sludge. Did I mention that I had invited our neighbors over for dinner and there were 5 hungry kids running around my house at that point?

I managed to salvage a few paltry falafel patties, which were gritty and too salty and contained shards of wooden spoon. My neighbor, ever the good sport, pronounced them “not that bad.” The girl is a terrible liar. But polite. Needless to say, the kids wouldn’t touch the stuff and ate chicken nuggets instead. And THAT is why I don’t cook much, people.

Someone who does is Matthew Amster-Burton, author of Hungry Monkey: A Food-Loving Father's Quest to Raise an Adventurous Eater. A food writer and dad in Seattle, he writes about his culinary adventures with his very funny and precocious daughter, Iris. The child was eating sushi at 10 mos. She once did a podcast about lobster. And her favorite food is some Szechuan dish with pork that her dad grinds himself. For real.

I loved this book, even though I am SO not the intended audience. For one thing, I’m a vegetarian. For another, my favorite cookbook is one he openly disparages (Desperation Dinners). And for another, I hate grocery shopping and only do it because I have to, whereas Amster-Burton goes food shopping at farmers’ markets and specialty grocery stores up to 8 times a week (!!).

But I’m a sucker for a good read, especially one about a devoted stay-at-home dad and his hilarious 3 y.o. I know ALL about hilarious 3 y.o.’s. Mine is a pretty good eater, but there’s no WAY he’d ever eat a fish eyeball like Iris does.

The book is very funny and includes recipes, 99% of which I will never make. With the possible exception of the Pad Thai. I laughed out loud at the chapter about his stint as preschool “Snack Dad.” He makes empanadas and Chinese dumplings for the class -- from scratch. I would HATE this guy if I were another parent at his school. As a point of comparison, I brought in prepackaged popcorn when it was my turn to do snack.

My poor children will never know what it’s like to grind their own spices, buy shrimp straight off the boat, or make sticky rice at home. Oh, well. Maybe when they’re in college they can study abroad one semester and get a taste of what good food is like.

READ O’ THE WEEK: Amster-Burton’s book includes a “recommended reading” section at the end, complete with food-related kids’ books. One of our favorites is Jamberry by Bruce Degen, a rollicking, rhyming fruit adventure. Mmmm, jam...

Flu Frenzy

So I was all set to write a post about the flu frenzy and the insane level of misinformation and fear surrounding the swine flu, vaccines, etc., and then I decided I was already bored and fed up with the topic.

I mean, just because I’ve wasted countless hours on the phone and spent my days running all over town talking to scarily incompetent healthcare professionals who “just” ran out of flu shots and “may” be getting more “sometime,” eventually, maybe, in the not-too-distant future but they can’t be sure and they don’t know whether they’re allowed to give them to kids or not or if so, what age, doesn’t mean you all have to read about it.

But can I just say, I knew more than the lady who answered the H1N1 hotline at the COUNTY HEALTH DEPT!! She did not even know the correct URL for the CDC web site, and she referred me to a hospital whose next scheduled flu shot clinic is in JANUARY 2010!! The sheer ineptitude of these people is scarier than the potential risks of the flu.

And by the way? If I see one more news segment talking about how important it is for young children and especially those with asthma (like my 3 y.o.) to get their shots and how Oct. is the best time to get them I WILL SCREAM.

Since I am completely powerless and unable to protect my family in any way even though I live in AMERICA and have the best healthcare coverage you could hope for, I have become that crazy germophobe lady. I am the mom at Chick-fil-A who’s hosing her kids down with Purell before, during, and after the meal and twice after my son has visited the bathroom and play area.

I’m THISCLOSE to making everyone wear matching surgical masks a la Michael Jackson. I greet my husband at the door after work with a bottle of hand sanitizer. I serious consider making him wear rubber gloves to hold the baby. So, yeah, it’s been really fun around here lately!

In other news, Miles had school picture day recently. He brought home the photos and the first thing I thought was, “Wow. His hair really won’t hold a style. Instead of a hairbrush and gel, I might as well have attacked his head with an egg beater and gotten the same result.” My husband took one look and said, “Why isn’t he wearing a nice collared shirt?”

Why do you THINK?! Maybe because he threw a hissy fit and refused to get dressed unless I let him wear his guitar T-shirt? Listen, a pre-K photo is not worth a knock-down drag-out fight at 8 a.m. if you ask me. Besides, you only have to look at the class photo to see he’s not the odd man out. 90% of the boys are wearing superhero or truck T-shirts while the girls have on party dresses.

But funny thing -– there’s not a surgical mask in sight.

READ O' THE WEEK: "Pigs Aplenty, Pigs Galore" by David McPhail seems appropriate.

UPDATE O’ THE WEEK: A reader wrote in to ask about Miles’ recurring cough which turned out to be asthma. He now takes Singulair nightly to manage his allergies and when a cough/cold flares up we give him Benadryl to dry up the post-nasal drip and Albuterol in a nebulizer when the cough gets really bad. It’s a pain, but it seems to be working.

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: C. made Rachael Ray’s Chili Lime Tilapia the other night and it was dee-lish! Even the picky eater ate a few bites. For dessert: Trader Joe’s apple blossoms are to die for. From freezer to microwave to your lips in 60 secs.

Baby Food Blues

Imagine how much easier it would be to raise kids if you didn’t have to feed them?

You could blissfully go about your day without having to puree anything or push green beans on anyone. You wouldn’t have to water down juice, cut off crusts, or pick the raisins out of raisin bread. You wouldn’t have strenuous negotiations about how many bites of chicken equals half an hour of Spongebob, and you wouldn’t have to hose down your kitchen floor 3 times a day. I know -- crazy talk!

I was reminded how labor-intensive the feeding of small children can be when my 7 m.o. son, Riley, started solid food recently. Unlike for my 3 y.o., Miles, I couldn’t just throw a toaster waffle and a whole banana on a plate and call it breakfast. I had to mix the oatmeal, blend in the peaches, heat it to just the right temperature, and then sit there shoveling it into his mouth for 20 min., not to mention the considerable cleanup afterward. Our morning routine doesn’t allow for that kind of time, people!

I remember before I had a baby thinking that people who made their own baby food were nuts. Isn’t that what Gerber is for? Then when Miles was tiny, I realized that pureeing a sweet potato wasn’t that hard, not to mention way cheaper. Then I got a little TOO ambitious. There was the steamed carrot explosion and later, the broccoli-cheese muffin debacle. (Tip: Just because your child likes blueberry muffins does NOT mean he will fall for muffins containing stinky green vegetables.)

This time around, I still microwave the occasional sweet potato but don’t have time for much more. And that’s a shame, because I’ve decided to do only organic baby food and that stuff’s EXPENSIVE!! Almost $1/jar for watered-down applesauce?! BTW, why doesn’t Trader Joe’s come out with their own line of baby food?

Anyway, there have definitely been some culinary hits and misses in our house when it comes to feeding our children. My husband earned a permanent spot in our family lore with his signature Kung Fu Panda maneuver. Miles was refusing to eat something or other until C. served it “Kung Fu Panda style.” Meaning, he held out a bite of food with chopsticks and Miles took a flying kung-fu leap and ate it in mid-air. My mom was visiting at the time, and this episode pretty much cemented C.’s title as Super Dad in her eyes.

C. has a far higher success rate with getting Miles to eat than I do. His creations include veggie burger “sliders” – mini burgers w/ all the fixings – and BBQ chicken wraps. “It’s all in the presentation,” he says smugly, as I try to foist forkfuls of shepherd’s pie into my picky eater’s face. But except for occasionally using a star-shaped cookie cutter on his PB&J’s, I can’t be bothered.

After all, I’ve got another kid to feed now. When I remember, that is. Fortunately, Riley’s still getting most of his calories from breastmilk because otherwise, he might wither away. On more than one occasion, I’ve packed a picnic lunch for the playground only to realize, oops! I brought nothing for the baby. And it’s not like I can give him a bite of his brother’s cheese stick.

Just today, we forgot Riley’s breakfast in the morning rush. Sorry, buddy! (Don’t worry, he’ll more than make up for it during those 2 nighttime feedings he’s STILL insisting on!) And since he refused to try Indian food, Miles’ dinner consisted of blueberry yogurt and half an apple. Oh, well. They say what a kid eats over the course of a week is more important than what he eats (or doesn’t eat) in one day.

So, anyone interested in 2 dozen broccoli-cheese mini muffins? Anyone??

LINK O’ THE WEEK: My SIL tipped me off to this web site, Weelicious.com, for fast, healthy, kid-friendly food.

READS O’ THE WEEK: My last post sparked some intense debate as well as some spin-off posts, which I’ll be the first to admit are perhaps, ahem, more thoughtful and diplomatic than mine was: “Mommy on the Sidelines” on It’s Not Like a Cat… and “A Plea to Spouses” on So Much to Say, So Little Time. I feel blessed to have such positive, constructive, interactive readers.

Survivor: Deep Creek Lake

There was a moment during our vacation -- specifically, when I was up at 4:30 a.m. with the baby for the third consecutive day -- when I seriously considered taking off in the car and checking into a motel by myself. We were staying in a house with a whole bunch of my relatives. Surely they would all come together to help my husband raise my abandoned children. Someone? Anyone?

But then I remembered that I had no idea where my car keys were, and next to no chance of finding them amidst 16 people’s stuff in the dark. Also, I can’t take out the kids’ car seats by myself. And I’m not THAT irresponsible!

The house we rented was amazing. A huge, new 6-bedroom, 7-bath place with a big backyard that looked out over an inlet. Imagine sunsets and swaying marsh grasses. Tranquil waters and cool breezes. A hot tub and fire pit. A sunny deck and a shady porch with rocking chairs. The very picture of relaxation, right?

Maybe, except for the 16 PEOPLE (!!) under one roof, ranging in age from 5 mos. to 74 years. Let me just say that while toddlers get a bad rap, they are certainly not the only ones who have trouble with whining, sharing, being flexible, and controlling their tempers. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

For the most part, it was a great week. Miles and his 2.5-year-old cousin loved running amok throughout the house and yard, playing outside, swimming, and going out in the canoe. The weather was often cool and rainy, but it was still preferable to the muggy, buggy inferno that is Baltimore in late summer. I loved seeing my California relatives, whom I don’t get to visit nearly enough, and it was great to have extra pairs of eyes and hands to help out with the kids. In particular, 13-year-old K. was an amazing mother’s helper all week. She got puked on and pooped on and had her hair pulled and still held out her arms for the baby each morning.

Speaking of mornings, they started very, very, VERY early. Our family of 4 stayed in one smallish room. Baby Riley took that to mean he had all-night access to the milk bar and willing playmates at 11 p.m., 2 a.m. and 4:30 a.m. Since I was desperate for him not to wake his brother or the rest of the household, I’d dive to retrieve him from his Pack ‘n’ Play at the first whimper. And don’t think he didn’t take full advantage, people.

He was usually up for the day about 6 a.m. I guess no one told him you’re supposed to sleep late on vacation. He’d start exercising his lungs, yodeling so loudly he could be heard across the lake. The one bad thing about the house was the great room, a large open space in the center of the house with high ceilings that amplified his shrieks. I’m sure my 23-y.o. cousin sleeping on the couch upstairs loved that. Some mornings I handed off the baby to his grandparents downstairs. The second day my dad said, “How about we take him AFTER 6:30 tomorrow?” Sure, if you stop making HALF-DECAF coffee!!! (See? I was one of the complainers!)

So, no, we didn’t sleep much, but we did eat much. Each couple/family took turns making dinner and some breakfasts and the meals were fabulous. I also got in some yoga (outdoors!), a massage, some kayaking, and a couple turns in the hot tub, so the trip did have some vacation-like elements.

And as a mother of 2 age 3 and under, I’ll take what I can get. If you’re going to get woken up at all hours and spend the week doing laundry, preparing meals, and changing diapers anyway, might as well do it in a different location and with different people now and then, right?

LINK O’ THE WEEK: This week renewed my interest in home cooking. Check out this episode of Oprah where celebrity chefs moved in with frazzled families to show them how to save money and cook tasty meals at home. Some of Cat Cora’s recipes sound super-tasty and easy.

Summertime and the Livin' is Crazy

Not much blogging going on around here this week. Too busy planning daily outings and activities here at Camp Diary of a New Mom. Whoever thinks summer is a time to kick back and relax clearly does not have a 3-year-old used to a regular schedule of preschool and gym classes and playdates. To him, summer is bo-ring. Every morning he asks, “Where are we going, Mom?” The grocery store is not a satisfactory answer.

Now that we’ve got little Riley as well, even the simplest outing is a grueling feat requiring several heavy bags packed with all manner of diapers, wipes, snacks, outfits, hats, sunscreen, and absorbent cloths. Which one of the 4 strollers we take depends on such myriad issues as the weather (full sun or overcast?), nap schedules (fully reclined or sitting up?) and the terrain (paved, gravel, or grass?) It’s exhausting, I tell you. And that’s before we’ve even left the house.

And to make things even more hectic, I took on a couple of writing assignments involving -- gasp! -- PHONE INTERVIEWS. Phone interviews are the bane of my work-at-home-mom existence. They are harder to pull off than a triple axel. Ideally, I schedule them only when I can be certain that both children will be out of the house and/or unconscious. Since that happens rarely-to-never, that means I’ve had to do some interviews at odd hours, like 7 p.m.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but after a full day of running after kids, enforcing rules, wiping butts, preparing meals, giving baths, etc., etc. I am FRIED. All I want to do at 7 p.m. is flop onto the couch with a big glass of wine and the remote.

To make matters worse, when I dropped the kids off at the sitter this week, she casually said, “So you’re on vacation next week, right? I’m going out of town.” No, I’m not on vacation next week, it’s the week after. Next week I’m on DEADLINE. Crap, crap, crappity-crap. What now? Like always, I’ll figure it out. Because that’s what I do. Says so right on my business card: In Charge of Figuring Out EVERYTHING.

Honestly, some days I feel like I barely have time to come up for air. I go from breakfast to getting everyone dressed to putting the baby down for a nap to returning phone calls to running errands to making lunch to doing laundry to reading stories to putting the toddler down for a nap which he may or may not take to checking e-mail to researching an article to going to the park to planning for vacation to giving everyone their medicine to making dinner to the next thing and the next and the next.

The balancing act was tough for me with one kid. Add in a baby plus freelance work, subtract school and the sitter and the equation just doesn’t work. Except that it has to. So, now that I’m back from today’s outing to the nature center and before we go on vacation, I’ll get back to figuring it out. Plenty of time to breathe later.

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: This is a super-tasty, fairly easy, and pretty healthy summer meal, especially if you make it with soy crumbles instead of ground beef like I did: Second-Chance Taco Salad. Whether or not you prepare it while you have a wiggly baby strapped to your chest and a whining toddler at your feet is up to you.

Letter to My Second Son

Dear Riley:

In case I haven’t said it enough in the past 2 mos. since you joined us, welcome to the world! And welcome to our family. We’re a friendly bunch, albeit a little frazzled. That’s mostly because of your older brother Miles.

Since he was born almost 3 years ago, your dad and I have been very, very busy. It’s hard work teaching someone how to eat, walk, talk, use the bathroom, ride a tricycle, and generally be a functioning member of society. Especially when that person is too smart for his own good and as stubborn as the day is long. But I digress ...

I just wanted to say, please don’t take it personally that we didn’t change a thing in the nursery for your arrival. It’s not that you’re not unique and special and deserving of new stuff, it’s just that we realize now that babies could care less about custom-framed Babar posters and valances that match the crib bumper. We did at least TRY to personalize your room by putting your name on the wall. And your grandmother made an adorable new quilt just for you!

Also, don’t be upset that you’re wearing mostly your brother’s hand-me-downs. Some of them he barely wore! Just be glad you’re both boys. I had to wear MY brother’s hand-me-downs, too, which is why there are pictures of me wearing burnt-orange Toughskins corduroys and football jerseys. But that was the ’70s.

Anyway, there are plenty of good things about being the second child. Believe me, I know. For instance, you’ll get to do lots of fun stuff much sooner than your brother did. You’ve already been bowling and to 2 birthday parties! Of course, you probably won’t remember since you slept through everything.

You know, Miles was practically 2 before he got his first taste of sugar. Poor kid. With you, I wouldn’t be surprised if we broke out the cookies and gummi bears before you even have teeth! And just wait until you get your driver’s license. My brother couldn’t drive with a friend in the car or even listen to the radio for months. By the time I got my license, my parents had forgotten all about those rules. Second kids always have it easier, trust me.

Of course, you may have a bit of an identity crisis since people are always calling you Miles. Even us. It’s not our fault; we’re sleep-deprived! MY mom used to call me the dog’s name. Plus, you do look a lot like your older brother. But he’s pretty cute, so that’s not a bad thing. Once you grow some hair, maybe you’ll look different. Another redhead in the family would be nice.

Well, I’ve gotta sign off now. You’re busy spitting up all over another outfit and your brother’s refusing to take a nap. That’s our life, Riley. But we love it. And we love YOU! Thanks for being born.

Love, Mom

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: This is what I make when we have nothing left in the house but a box of pasta: Cream Cheese Basil Sauce.

"Me Time" Crunch

“Take time for yourself.” Everyone says it, few people do it, yet everyone needs it. Before I had a baby, this phrase meant nothing to me. After all, pretty much any time that wasn’t spent at work or with my husband was “me time.” I had no shortage of it.

Then I entered a stage of life where I had to choose between eating, sleeping, or bathing, because there was simply not time to do all three. That’s when I finally understood this “finding time for yourself” concept. As with a lot of things we know are good for us, though, it’s easier said than done.

I just concluded one of my craziest weeks in recent memory. A combination of deadlines, drama, family visits, Miles starting school, husband out of town, etc. conspired to turn me into ball of stress. It was literally a case of too much to do, not enough time. Whereas usually I’m concerned with how to fill the time, since I have a toddler with the attention span of a gnat.

So you know how people (a.k.a. my mom) say, “You’ve just got to let some things go”? Well, what would you propose I let go from this list: paying work that I’ve signed a contract to complete, sleep, taking my son to school and picking him up, providing him 3 meals a day plus snacks, laundry, dishes, prenatal appointments. Does any of that seem optional to you?

Notice that I said “provide” meals, not “prepare” them. But even that requires nuking some chicken nuggets, opening a can, or sitting in a drive-thru line. And those things take time, people!! Time I do not have! I can’t even keep up with loading and unloading the dishwasher lately.

Still, I was determined to squeeze in some crucial “me time.” One of my writing students passed along a great quote: “No one has time. You have to make time.” Amen to that! So this is what my sometimes pitiful “me time” looked like this week:

- 15 min. promotional reflexology session in the lobby of a loud, crowded gym

- 20 min. perusing the 19-page photo spread of the Jolie-Pitt twins while pedaling a recumbent bike

- Watching a recorded episode of “Gossip Girl” (no time for commercials!)

- A 20-min. nap after putting Miles down for his nap and before taking my parents to the train station

- A 60-minute yoga class during which I could not stop staring at myself in the mirror and thinking, “Damn, I look pregnant already!” Unlike last time when I was still in the “chunky but not obviously pregnant” phase at this point.

All in all, not too bad, right? It adds up to something almost every day. Not quite the same as a day at the spa or an all-day Saturday shopping session, but right now, I’ll take what I can get.

LAUGH O’ THE WEEK: C. asked Miles what he thought we should name the baby. Without hesitation he replied, “Henry.” Where did he come up with that? We don’t even know anyone named Henry. Won’t he be disappointed if it’s a girl …

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: After 2 weeks of takeout and frozen food, I had to break the cycle. This Easy Enchilada Casserole is quick, vegetarian, and made with mostly frozen or canned ingredients. It’s from “The Mom’s Guide to Meal Makeovers” cookbook.

Ingredients:
28-oz. can crushed tomatoes
1 tablespoon canola oil
16-oz. bag frozen, mixed bell pepper strips
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
¼ teaspoon salt
12-oz. bag soy crumbles (like Morningstar Farms Grillers)
15-oz. can black beans, rinsed & drained
12 6-inch corn tortillas
2 cups shredded Cheddar cheese

1. Coat a 9x13” pan with cooking spray.

2. Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add peppers, spices & salt and cook until peppers are tender, about 5 min.

3. Add crushed tomatoes, soy crumbles & beans. Stir to combine, cook for 5 min.

4. Arrange several tortillas on the bottom of the baking pan. Top with half the bean mixture and 1 cup of cheese. Add another layer of tortillas, bean mixture & cheese.

5. Bake uncovered at 400 degrees until cheese melts, about 20 min. Serve with sour cream, sliced avocados & sliced olives if desired.