Miracle babies

Faith, hope, and love, the greatest among these is love. Tonight I am reminded of a dear friend Susan's children and their family's work with the March of Dimes on behalf of babies everywhere. Now 6-years old, when Jake and Abby were born 92 days early they had only a 50-50 chance of survival. Jake weighed 1 lb. 15 oz., and Abby weighed 1 lb. 13 oz. That’s about the size of a beanie baby bear…or as one of their doctors put it, a good sized cheeseburger. They experienced a range of difficulties at birth, not the least of which was breathing on their own. Jake had three surgeries before ever leaving the hospital. Both kids had RSV, a life threatening and permanently damaging respiratory virus. Both of them also had severe brain hemorrhaging, causing permanent brain damage.

Abby has substantial hearing loss, and Jake has mild cerebral palsy as a result of the damage. But that certainly doesn’t stop them from doing anything! In fact, to know Jake and Abby, you would have NO IDEA that they were born so early. They are truly miracle babies.

No one is working harder than the March of Dimes to understand the causes of prematurity and birth defects. That's why Jake and Abby's family and friends are participating in the March for Babies as a Family Team. Family Teams are made up of friends and family who want to honor babies – babies born prematurely or with a birth defect, babies who didn’t survive, or healthy, full-term babies. Premature birth touches half a million babies and their families every year. Babies born too soon are more likely to die or have disabilities. Birth defects pose another serious threat – taking the lives of many babies and cause lifelong disabilities for thousands more. So it’s important for us to help the March of Dimes help moms have full-term pregnancies and healthy babies.

To find out more, visit www.marchforbabies.org or Susan's site at www.marchforbabies.org/susanfontana to join TEAM FONTANA or make a donation to support them. Walk for a special child in your life – a healthy baby, a premature baby, or a sick one. Walk for all babies.

Literacy Thursday, Itsy Bitsy Spider

I've finally gotten around to participating in Literacy Thursday by blogging about one of our favorite children's books. I'm always looking for creative things to read that are both educational and entertaining.


This modern twist on the classic, Itsy Bitsy Spider by Keith Chapman, brings together fun illustrations, rhyming, and alliteration into a short book that preschoolers love. The spider, "spinning silver silk webs high up in a barn," bounces from one farm animal to another and finally in the safety of his mom's web. This book is one of Emily's favorites -- I think the combination of animals, sounds, and a fun ending she can anticipate make it especially fun.

Make-ahead Mondays

In hopes of perpetuating this trend I've developed of making my Monday supper on Sunday night, I'm instituting "Make-ahead Mondays." Tonight's dish was a Chicago-style pizza.

Chicago-style pizza (the easy way)

refrigerated pizza crust--I like the fresh kind and would make my own in the bread machine if I could keep yeast "alive"
sliced mozzerella
1 lb. bulk Italian sausage, mild
can of crushed tomatoes
oregano, basil, crushed red pepper, garlic powder to taste
10" round cake pan.

Sunday night:
Spray cake pan, spread pizza dough across the bottom
lay cheese slices on dough
spread raw (yes, raw) sausage on the cheese, leaving about an inch of crust sticking out sides
cover with plastic wrap along the surface of the sausage and refrigerate

Monday night:
remove pizza from refrigerator to bring closer to room temperature
preheat oven to 425
spread crushed tomatoes, seasoned to taste, across sausage
bake 35-45 minutes until browned and bubbly.

Andy and I (wanna-be-foodies) enjoy eating our way through travels and trying to replicate local specialties when we get home. We rarely succeed completely, which keeps traveling interesting, but our copies are close enough to bring back fond memories of our travels. Tonight, we could smell Lou Malnati's without leaving home.

I'm on wheels!

I have no idea what she meant, but Emily was yelling, "I'm on wheels!" over and over again as she raced through the house in only her pull-up on Sunday night. She was in a particularly fiesty mood. She didn't want to do anything that might please me: eat dinner, sit on the potty, put on pajamas, move her toys back to the playroom, etc. We finally had to tell her that she was missing her favorite shows with all of her shenanigans--the longer it continued, the more TV time ticked away (it goes pretty quickly when you only see a half hour a day). I think the message finally sunk in when she was down to a single episode of Caillou. She was better tonight, but we've got to do something before we end up with a kid with an exaggerated sense of entitlement.

I've read that taking things away is not effective for toddlers -- the key is earning privileges rather than losing them. So, I'm thinking I've got to start some kind of reward chart. This led me to simplemom.net, which has a pretty cool downloadable chore chart. I'm debating whether to wrap potty training into the chart too or whether that'd just be too much for Emily to understand. Andy and I might start charts for ourselves too with stickers for working out, picking up, and washing dishes. I've been looking for some local art for my walls lately, maybe this is just the ticket!

That's why they call it a long weekend

Four long days at home together, and we emerge victorious. (At least I hope we'll emerge, since we now all have colds.) I'm really not complaining about having four days to spend with my family, I'm just not sure I've got the stamina to make it fun for everyone.

Day 1, we headed to My Gym for Emily's weekly class. She had a blast sliding into the ball pit and jumping on the trampoline. Andy and I had a date of sorts in the afternoon and enjoyed lunch at Coastal Flats and a meal-prep session at Let's Dish. I feel slightly guilty about paying someone else to do the shopping and cut up the vegetables for me, but having quick, tasty meals on-hand is well-worth it. I like being able to alter the recipes--a little more cheese, a little less onion--unlike grocery-store prepared foods.

Day 2, we hosted a pizza-making playdate (complete with tickle-torture pictured here). The girls couldn't have cared less about eating the pizzas they created, but we had fun. Emily flips into "show-off mode" any time a friend comes by. The nice side effect to this is that she plays with toys she's ignored for months.

Day 3, we headed out for a special breakfast and then back to My Gym for a make-up class. Since we had been there a few days before, the class was the same more-or-less. Emily seemed to LOVE that, presumably because she could predict what was going to happen next. She has gotten really brazen lately, and was even telling the coaches what steps they had missed in the routine when they did things a little differently than the coaches from two days before. Everyone seemed to take it all in stride. That evening, I had a play date of my own and met a friend at the ice rink. It had been four years and a baby since I had been to the rink, eight years since I had skated nearly every day. It felt great to get back on the ice and discover that I could still do a spin or two (barely).

Day 4, just when we thought we had this stay-at-home thing under control, Emily managed to go through the house like a tornado, undoing all the cleaning we had done before the Day 2 playdate. And she talked. Non-stop. All day. She tends to provide color commentary for everything she does and repeats herself constantly: "Me-may changing Bertha, Bertha stinky, Me-may get diaper for Bertha, Me-may making lunch for babies, Me-may make lunch, Me-may changing Bertha . . . " Most of the time it is cute to see what is going through her head. Today it was simply too much. Maybe because we were trying to watch the inauguration coverage, maybe because we were feeling slightly trapped because of said inauguration's road closures, maybe because we were all a bit under the weather. I feel slightly guilty admitting that I'm ready for a quiet day at the office.

Gearing up for four days on

I vaguely remember the days when a four-day weekend meant four days off work, days to do what I wanted without being bothered by tasking from others. During this BC (before child) era, I also left work each day in the early evening and didn't go back until the morning. I remember looking forward to "my" time. I now joke with single co-workers when I leave in the evening that I'm heading off to my other job -- one that's paid in "sugars" and "big hugs." (In any market, an investment with a much higher yield.)

I must confess, though, I look toward this long weekend with a bit of trepidation. Four whole days in a row with a toddler, and it's COLD outside. I think part of the problem is that this toddler is accustomed to a complex, structured day -- yoga on Mondays, music on Wednesdays, nap routines, puppet shows, breakfast/lunch/snack carefully timed, play time, craft time, reading time, potty time. I can't compete with that. I simply can't bear the thought of staying home for four whole days. I feel like I should have a lesson plan -- or at least a stockpile of craft supplies.

A case of the Mondays

We seem to always have a hard time settling into the week around here. I think everyone is ready to head back to work and school on Monday morning, but we're all exhausted by the end of the day. As long as I can remember, Emily has been grumpier than usual on Monday evenings, eats early, and goes to bed early and easily. It has always been tricky to come home and make dinner before she's melted down. So, as part of my new year's meal plan, I've decided to head off part of the Monday evening madness by making Monday night supper while Sunday's is cooking. This week, Andy had a tasty French chicken roasting in the oven while I had chili cooking on the stove. Chili tonight, leftovers in the freezer, and one serving left for lunch tomorrow.

Even the dog knows Christmas is over

I like to take my Christmas tree down on around the 6th of January. I like to leave it up until Epiphany, and this year I had hoped also to throw a party while the house was still "dressed." Anyway, the 6th came and went, party invitations never were sent, and Bailey, the dog, thought she'd take things into her own paws.

Programming children

I think one of the most fun things about being a parent has to be revisiting one's own childhood favorites. I think I'd feel a little self-conscious watching Cinderella without a child to share it with; although, Andy and I did see Hercules in the theatre on a date as graduate students, and I embarrased him further by ordering the kid's snack pack. In any case, I'm rediscovering joys of legos, puzzles, crayons, and playgrounds. I'm also planning extracurricular activities for my 2-year old as if she needs a head start to get a college athletic scholarship! I realize I'm not the only one -- which I think is why there's even more social pressure to sign-'er-up early-- but I wonder where this trend is leading us. I think part of me realizes that my time as curriculum planner is limited. If I don't get her enrolled in a sport soon, she might never want to play.



What have we been up to? We took swimming at 9 months and 18 months. She loved it at 9 months and hated it at 18. I think that was a control issue. Imagine not being able to swim, wanting independence, and finding yourself in water twice your height. I wouldn't have liked it either I guess. I refuse to drive out to one of the fancy swim schools or wait in line at 5 am for a 2-year old, so we'll try that one again later. (I think it is bordering on criminal to not try to teach a child to swim, so she'll be back in the water soon enough.)



For the past few months, she's been in a wonderful program at My Gym in Chantilly. It's a bit chaotic sometimes, but she absolutely has a blast climbing, swinging, singing, dancing, and jumping. Some weeks she literally climbs the walls, and she's finally starting to participate in circle time activities.



So, for the spring we're on to soccer. She kicked so much in the womb that we almost named her "Mia." We found a program that starts kids at 18 months. I haven't done any research on it, but the website says Lil' Kickers is a "nationally renowned" child-development program so it must be good. Right? We did a trial class last weekend and Emily had a lot of fun chasing the ball from one goal to another and "planting" cones around the field and tapping them with her foot. I'm not going to run out and buy cleats or stop contributing to her college fund, but one never knows where these things might lead.

Oh to be resolute

I admit, I can never get too charged up about New Year's. Andy often reminds me that birthdays ending in zero are only important because we have ten fingers; I guess I have a similar feeling about New Year's. Maybe I'm just saying I'm not that charged up about New Year's because I can't seem to stay awake until midnight anymore -- much less awake in heels with strangers. So, we spent a quiet, but festive, evening with friends -- home by 8 so Emily could hit the nebulizer -- and an even more quiet day home on New Year's day, with a morning field trip to Ikea and McDonald's. No football this year (that's Monday). No black-eyed peas (I forgot to replace the ones the mouse got into). My cook more, eat out less pre-resolution is already a flop. My perpetual lose-ten-pounds resolution seems to work only while breastfeeding. So, I'm forgoing a resolution this year -- lest I be disappointed in my lack of resolve -- but I would like to work harder at work, play harder at home, and make more time for the hobbies I used to enjoy.

what's cookin', part deux

Ok, so I've fallen off the wagon already. My pot roast was less tender than previous attempts -- I'm blaming it on the onions that formed a sort of platform for the roast in the pot. I think it is more tender when it sits in its own grease (er, juices) all day instead of lofted above them on an onion. I couldn't face leftover roast or meatloaf last night. I literally took the meatloaf out of the fridge, put it on a plate to warm it, almost hurled, and put it right back into the fridge for safe keeping. So, I did a takeout double feature -- chinese for me, kabobs for Andy. Fortunately for our pocketbook, I was back on the wagon tonight with Dinner Doctor Popcorn Soup, sans the popped corn, and Jiffy cornbread. Tasty! I really try to avoid vegetables that come in cans, but this is hard to beat. Next time I might add some potatoes or cheese. We just might make it to the end of the week without another takeout meal. Dinner with friends on New Year's Eve doesn't count against us, does it?

Dinner Doctor Popcorn Soup

2 cans creamed style corn
1 can corn kernels
2 cups chicken stock
2 cups half-and-half
1 chicken bouillon cube
2 Tbl butter
1 tsp sugar

Heat corn, stock, half-and-half, and bouillon on medium heat, stirring frequently until hot but not boiling, about 12 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in butter and sugar.

I used low sodium corn and free range broth. The recipe suggests topping with plain popcorn and a dash of pepper sauce. I served it with Jiffy cornbread in a cast-iron skillet.

Serves 4.

what's cookin'?

I'm not sure why, but every year around this time I go back through cookbooks old and new-- and the pile of magazine clippings I've circled and put in plastic pages in a binder--and reinvent my weekly routine. I think it's a combination of a jumpstart from all the holiday baking I've done, excitment about new cookbooks, and a determination to eat out less often. Don't worry, it doesn't last long. Soon enough we'll be back to the same-old-same-old. But, for the next few weeks anyway, I'm trying some new recipes and rediscovering some old ones. So far, we've had meatloaf and chunky mashed potatoes from Joy of Cooking (an oldie but goodie) and chicken scallopine with linguine from an old Southern Living (not so tasty). I like to make my meatloaf in three small loaf pans instead of one big one so that we cook two and freeze one.

Tonight, it's pot roast sort of from the Dinner Doctor but I'm mostly making it up as I go along. I found it strange that the Dinner Doctor doesn't include instructions for making the pot roast in a crock pot, and I'm too chicken to put a pot in the oven all afternoon, so I'm using the crock pot anyway. I threw in some potatoes and carrots near the end just for fun, though Emily is already telling me (over and over again) that she does not like carrots (must have eaten way too many as an infant.)

Later this week we'll have Dinner Doctor's corn soup and Bon Appetit's penne with tomato cream sauce. We'll see how they turn out.

All I want for Christmas . . .

Presents opened, check.
Meal eatened, check
Family entertained, check.
Conference call with distant relatives, check.
Dishes washed, check.
Nap taken, check.

Looks like Christmas was a success.

In some ways that really sums up our day. It is so easy for Christmas to seem like just the end of a very long holiday marathon. We rush through the day with the same fervor we rush through stores on Black Friday. I think, though, that since we did only breakfast instead of a late meal this year our rushing was done (and company had left) by noon, leaving us the whole rest of the day to . . . rest, and play, and enJOY each other. (We also got a few things done around the house.)

I made two recipes I got from my sister for Christmas breakfast this year. Both are very easy and very yummy. I served them with a simple fruit salad and orange juice with a dash of bubbly.

Eva's Breakfast Casserole

8 oz crescent rolls
1 lb bulk sausage
2 cups shredded monterey jack cheese
4 eggs
3/4 cup milk
salt and pepper to taste

Cook sausage and drain
Spray 9x13 pan
Line pan with crescent rolls
Beat eggs, milk, salt and pepper
Layer sausage and cheese in the pan
Pour the egg mixture on top
Bake at 425 for about 20 minutes until egg is set. Serves 6.

Cinnamon Pull-Apart (aka Monkey) Bread

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1 Tbl cinnamon

3 cans (7.5 oz each) refrigerated buttermilk biscuits

1/2 cup butter, melted

4 oz. cream cheese, softened

1/2 cup powdered sugar

1-2 Tbl milk

Bread: Mix granulated sugar and cinnamon in bowl or plastic baggie; set aside. Cut each biscuit in quarters. Roll in cinnamon-sugar. Place half of the biscuits in a greased fluted tube (bundt) pan. Drizzle half the butter over the biscuits. Place the remaining biscuits in the pan and drizzle with remaining butter and cinnamon-sugar. Bake 40-45 minutes until golden brown. Cool in pan for 5 minutes and invert onto serving plate.

Frosting: beat cream cheese and powdered sugar in small
bowl on medium speed until well blended. Add 1 Tbl milk; beat until well-blended. Beat in enough of the remaining milk until the glaze is the desired consistency. Drizzle over warm bread. Serve warm. Serves 6-8.

Coffee, Santa?

I'm trying to keep Christmas simple this year. We spent this afternoon reading Christmas stories, watching movies, and enjoying treats from friends. Before bedtime, I let Emily choose some cookies to leave out for Santa. I shouldn't have left them at doggy eye-level. When I asked her what Santa might like to drink with his cookies, she replied, "Santa want coffee?" Of course, reluctant to actually brew a pot of coffee for Santa, I suggested that chocolate milk might be a good choice as well. She agreed. I guess she figures men drink coffee or maybe he's got a long night ahead.

Eyes of a child

The Christmas season has been so much more fun this year as Emily is just beginning to get the idea that something special is going on. It's interesting to watch the little wheels in her head as she tries to figure out why I'm bringing a tree into the house, baking lots of cookies, passing out little boxes to friends and neighbors, and asking her if she wants to sit on some old guy's lap at the mall so a strange lady can take her picture. It didn't take her long to figure out that the wrapped things under the tree have good things for her in them -- of course, she still doesn't understand that we don't get to open them every day. She seems very puzzled by the idea of Santa, though. (Who wouldn't be, I realize.) She liked the idea of saying "hello" to him at the mall but was terrified to sit in his lap. When I mentioned that he was coming to our HOUSE to bring presents, I could just see her trying to weigh Santa's coming to her house (bad) against presents (good). Adding the fact that she'd be asleep during said present-drop didn't seem to help matters. Somehow, I think come next Thursday she'll have figured it out.

Bustin' Loose

Phew, we're finally out of the hospital and back on our way home. Emily is like a completely different child when she doesn't feel well. I'm glad to have my baby back to more-or-less normal. My heart goes out to parents with chronically ill children. We are truly blessed to have a healthy child.

What a trip

We headed home for an early Christmas last Wednesday amid a lot of uncertainty about my dear grandfather's health. Ever since his 90th birthday party last August his health has been failing fast; he was ready to go. To make a long story short, we arrived on Wednesday at 6 and he passed at 10. I was really struggling with whether to go to see him in the nursing home: mom said he wouldn't know I was there, my sister said I'd rather remember him happily partying at 90. I think I made the right decision. Anyway, the next three days brought life lessons about funeral-planning. As it turned out, I missed the visitation and funeral altogether when Emily landed in the hospital with breathing problems on Sunday. She ended up in the same hospital, on the same hall, as where my grandfather had spent some 12 days a month or so ago with pneumonia.


Emily came down with her usual crud on Thursday and we made a trip to the pharmacy to get a refill on her inhalor, which of course we had left at home. She still sounded junky on Sunday morning, so we headed to quick care expecting to do a breathing treatment, get some liquid steroids, and head home. But, nooooo. Now it's Tuesday and we're still in the hospital waiting for the magic button that measures pulse oxygen to pop up the right number. (Well, actually, right now, she's making laps in the hallway with Dad.) She's been a real trooper for the most part, entertaining the nurses with her squeaky voice demanding that she's "all done." She told the emergency room nurse that she was "all better" as we transferred up to the hospital and put her on oxygen. She's had fun pushing any buttons she can get her hands on. Last night when Andy asked her if she was pushing buttons again, she exclaimed, "I'm pushing Daddy's buttons!" That was the truth for sure. I think they are making up, which probably means she feels better, but for most of our stay he's been greated with a loving "get out" or "get away."

We've come to appreciate our least favorite (her favorite) DVD, which she's watched at least a dozen times now. Having myself been hospitalized exactly once (when I delivered Em,) I had great fantasies of cartoon band-aids, jazzy scrubs, ice cream, and toys. Perhaps somewhere else. So, in the meantime, we're making the best of it--even if that means sending Dad for hometown take-out favorites.

Twinkle Twinkle What Are

I'm now not sure why, but at some point I started singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" to Emily when I was putting her to bed. It started as a game where I'd ask her to close her eyes and I would begin to sing. If she opened her eyes, I'd stop. In the beginning, she'd scrunch her eyes closed and I'd start and stop singing (well, more like reciting in a sing-song whisper) 5 or 6 times before making it through the song. She'd then ask for it again and again. I figured if I could just get her to lie still and close her eyes, she'd eventually fall asleep. Anyway, here recently she has begun to learn the words herself. She will sing it during the day all mixed up with the Itsy Bitsy Spider and sometimes the ABCs. "Itsy bitsy spider, up water spout, twinkle twinkle little star, how wonder what are . . ." At night, though, I sing (whisper) it one time through and now instead of asking for it again, she recites it herself. This week she is getting most of the words right! I wonder what she thinks it means.

Opposites confuse

One of the most cruel challenges of parenthood (ok, so "cruel" isn't really the right word) is knowing that it would be rude to laugh at a child. Sure, there's enough joy in parenthood to laugh with children, but the really funny moments seem to come when you want to laugh at them and that, I think, would be rude. Tonight, Emily was rearranging last night's tree decorating--inevitable, I know--when she was inspired to try on an ornament stocking for size. Stocking: an inch wide, about 2 inches long, not stretchy. Foot: toddler 6.5. "Too small," I said. "Ohh," she says with a grin, "me-may foot too small . . . mommy's foot?" As if. I couldn't help but turn around and giggle to myself.

Deck the halls

Well, it took several days longer than usual but I'm almost done putting up Christmas decorations. No, I didn't go all National Lampoon this year I just worked an hour at a time. I did wreaths, garland, and a few household Santas on Monday, Andy and I assembled the tree and put on lights Tuesday, and Emily and I put the ornaments on the tree tonight. I still need to tackle wrapping presents (that won't take long if I don't also do more shopping) and I'd like to string a few lights in the yard. It has been fun to watch Emily's reaction to each stage of the decorating since most of it has been done while she's been away.

I've never been one for theme trees. I remember one year my mom tried an all plastic- apple tree. It didn't go over well, but I suppose it was a very 80s thing to do. So, we go for the hodgepodge of ornaments collected over some 30 years of class projects, gifts from friends, purchases on vacations and at museum gift shops. Every year I seem to forget how many ornaments in my collection symbolize someone or someplace special in my life. There's an aloha Santa, a See Rock City barn, two cats, a dog, and several angels including a gift from a college friend who died the next year.

Emily was really cute putting the decorations on the tree this year. She was very careful to place each one on the tree even though I didn't tell her where to put them. When she was done, she pointed to each one, telling me which ornaments she put on the tree and which ones I had hung. I had originally planned to rearrange them when she went to bed to correct some of the assymetry, but I think I'll just enjoy it.