Chef Mommy

Mostly for tradition's sake, I still like writing and blogging for New Year's Eve and/or New Year's. Back in high school and even some of college, I liked to fill out those survey questionnaires and post them. They seemed so trivial at the time, but they're nice snapshots of a moment in time of your closest friends, favorite foods, hobbies, and a tiny glimpse of personality during a time when your life and you are constantly changing. Well, things don't change that much anymore.

I thought about what I could write about this year, but everything seemed to be occupied by baby. For good reason. I mean I've had lots of time to sample the best diaper brands (we've used about 7 different ones), the most necessary and unnecessary baby items, and must-have baby gadgets worth the splurge even as frugal parents. Being that my every day is filled with baby, I wanted to write about something different for a change.

After Sasha was born, I really missed cooking. Not cooking with the perspective of a chore of cooking food to eat because we were hungry, but cooking as an activity of being creative and combining ingredients to make something delicious and wonderful. Trust me, cooking because we are hungry is still a laborious chore.

So throughout the last 8 months of the year, I've been lucky enough to have moments to enjoy my kitchen again as a creative outlet. Here are some of the items we've cooked. This isn't meant to share recipes because there would be so many in one post, but if you see something interesting, please don't hesitate to ask me questions or ask me for the recipe! Also, in the same thinking as Ugly Delicious, these are not perfectly plated Instagram worthy pictures of food, but just what I've managed to document through the year. And honestly, I like it that way.

 1. Biscotti

One of the first recipes we attempted to make was biscotti. It was the frontrunner of our Friday night baking experiments after the baby learned to sleep longer stretches without waking up every hour to eat. It was also a way for us to spend time together as a couple while keeping the budget low and staying in without having to hire a sitter. Not as crispy and hard as store-bought biscotti, but I think my teeth appreciate that. :)

2. Radish Cake

I've made this recipe before many times before the baby was born, but it was nice to be able to make a big batch again and freeze them for later. Makes a great midnight snack or quick meal with a few hours of thawing time.

3. Cookie Cake

I already had a great recipe for chocolate chip cookies, but out of curiosity one day, I decided to make it into a cookie cake. It was wonderful. 

3. Bao Zi （包子）

I blogged about our first try at steamed bread （饅頭/馒头） a while back here. Since then, we have been able to try twice at making baozi. This time, our second try, we also had a 3-tier steamer which made the steaming process go much smoother and faster.

Another great food to spend an afternoon making large batches and freezing them for later snacks and meals.






4. Double chocolate chip banana bread

I use Pati Jinich's recipe for this. I really enjoy watching her cooking show on television and there are some other great recipes she's made before. I'm not the biggest fan of authentic Mexican food, but she's introduced me to some dishes that are truly delicious. I also just love listening to her say the word "mushy" in her accent. 

5. Fried chicken

I can't remember when I started making these fried chicken tenders, but it was amazing when I figured it out. It's almost restaurant quality. And I only say almost because these are not deep fried but pan fried.


6. Blueberry Crumble Cheesecake

I found the recipe for this cake when I was pregnant and saved it as a bookmark. Months later I went back and found it and we decided to make one as one of our Friday night date nights and went out and spontaneously bought a springform pan because I've never had one. It was very good.

So good.

7. Dutch Oven Bread

A friend of mine once made a dutch oven bread and I got really curious a few months ago and decided to try it myself. I found an easy recipe and gave it a shot. I always have beginner's luck and my first try turned out wonderfully. My second one...had some errors. Yes, you absolutely need to flour the bottom of the dutch oven.

PS - see those browned bits at the bottom that get burned onto pots and pans from the oven? Baking soda removes them without damaging your pot! I could write a whole post on the wonders of baking soda.

8. Pork Sung/Meat Floss （肉鬆/肉松）

I've loved this as a child. I never actually knew it was made with real meat (it is!) until recently. Who knew meat could dry to become a fluffy texture? I'm too frugal to buy this from the Chinese supermarket myself, but it really is one of my favorite foods from my childhood. The store sells it for about $10 a pound, sometimes more. Keep in mind that is the dry weight, so you'd probably need 2 pounds of meat to make 1 pound of meat floss. But even at 2 pounds of meat, it would cost you about half to make it yourself if you knew how.

I tried, and then I realized why people pay $10 a pound for this stuff. Unless you are very experienced and know exactly what you're looking for by texture and feel, this is not a recipe for amateurs or something you want to try "just for fun." Mine was a little too dry and turned hard and crispy more than dry and fluffy. What went wrong? I think the heat was too high...that's ok. It still makes great sandwiches with peanut butter (My friend told me about this recently. So. Good.) and an add-in for rice porridge. Will I make it again? Probably not....unless I can get my hands on a bread maker which can automatically stir and heat for you. Otherwise it's a high-maintenance recipe that involves lots of babysitting.


9. Biscuits

I haven't bought frozen biscuit dough in so long because it is so easy to make and only requires 6 ingredients: flour, butter, milk, sugar, salt, baking powder. They're also way more delicious (and healthy) and cost a fraction of the price. It's also a great recipe to know so you don't have to make a trip out to the grocery store just to buy biscuits last minute if you ever realize you want them and don't have any. 

I make mine rustic (aka not round) so you don't waste any of the dough or have to roll it out twice. The recipe has said they can be frozen and baked later, but I haven't tried that yet. The fresh ones are amazing though!

10. Char Siu （叉烧/叉燒）

I've always loved this Asian pork. My dad used to buy it once a week or so and we'd add it to our dishes for a meal or two. The ones from the store have the iconic red color which actually doesn't give it any flavor (who knew?). A few years ago I bought a flavor seasoning marinade and tried making some. It wasn't bad, but it didn't have that Asian flavor I was looking for. I found a homemade recipe and tried it sometime later, and it was good, but it still wasn't anything like at the restaurant.

Then, I came across a second recipe and tried it, and we loved it. It had the most authentic flavor of the three versions I've tried, and was the closest I've ever had to the ones from restaurants. It's also not as sweet as some of the ones at restaurants which I appreciate. I have frozen some of the raw marinaded meat and baked it later in the oven and the results are still fantastic. This one's a keeper.

11. Baby Food!

My daughter eats her colors. I've included this on the list, not so much because this is for us (although I have tasted every single thing I've ever given her, pouches, homemade, and all!) I actually find making baby food very therapeutic. I don't make giant quantities at once, only about 4-6 jars at a time, and each jar lasts about 2-3 servings. It takes me roughly an hour start to finish and I usually make a batch once a week. But this is way more efficient to me than spending 2-3 hours at once to make 2-3 times the amount. Because chances are my daughter naps for an hour no problem. Anything over an hour is a bonus to me and hard to come by.

I choose to use vacuumed jars and not freeze in ice cubes because that eliminates the thawing step. And let's face it, the thawing is what takes forethought and we don't have time for forethought when it comes to babies. We also just conveniently have a Foodsaver and the jar attachment already, so why not? I bought two dozen jars for $1.00 each including the cost of shipping and they have been well worth their value to me.

It's been quite the year and we have been super blessed with our baby as well as the good food we still manage to eat. Cheers to 2019 and many more recipes to try.

Messy eating only looks cute when you're this small.

Who Wore it Better?

I was at my dad's one time during my pregnancy and I found an old baby shirt I'd kept for years and years in my closet. I showed my husband and I said, "If we're having a girl she can wear this!!! It'll be so special."

He thought it was the ugliest shirt ever with a creepy bear on it. Later, after I looked a little closer, the bear really was kind of creepy.

Well, we were having a girl, and I was prepared to let the shirt go and just throw it out until we found pictures of me wearing it as a baby at my dad's house.

I win at baby hair hands down.

Why of everything "baby," this is the only thing I had to save...I have no idea. But there was no way we could simply throw the shirt out now without getting some pictures of Sasha wearing it.

I didn't try especially hard, but I had bought her some pink fleece pants, and she had a few long sleeve onesies in the blue spectrum I could put underneath the shirt to recreate this photo as close as possible without driving myself insane over details.

The shirt is size 6-9 months. I'm assuming we're about the same age in both photos if not close enough.

As a mother, it often crosses my mind that I won't be one of those women who gets to take maternal family line photos with grandmothers/mothers/daughters/granddaughters/great-granddaughters. I won't be one of those women who gets to watch my mother play with my daughter. I won't be one of those women who gets to share the experience of being a mother with my own mother. But I do get to show my daughter these pictures years later when she's older and can understand.

And maybe, if I'm lucky, she won't think the yellow shirt is so ugly.

Mamalogues: Horror Stories: Mommy Edition

I woke up feeling good about this Friday. I didn't have to teach, I didn't have any timely engagements to be at, and it was cold and gray outside. The baby woke up not too early which gave me some time to get my act together before getting her. She did a great job eating her first bottle in the morning and was happily playing with her toys. I was getting my breakfast ready and poured the hot water into my instant oatmeal and was waiting for it to absorb.

And then I smelled the poo.

I picked her up and migrated to her room with the changing table. I unbottoned her jumpsuit and onesie and opened the diaper to assess the damage. There was definitely poo. I lifted up her bottom to see how far up it went. It kept going....up the diaper...and up....and up....so much poo.

I wiped her butt off and removed the dirty diaper from underneath her and began planning the removal of her soiled clothes in my head. During this planning process, she wanted to flip over and sit up and crawl away and grab at everything around her on the changing table. The attempt at keeping her jumpsuit clean failed. The attempt at cleanly removing her soiled onesie failed. I took a wipe and wiped her down and then spontaneously decided it was time for a bath. (We don't usually do baths after blowouts because if she stays still, I wipe her back and then redress her and we're all good.) Well, not this time.

We took a quick bath and I redressed her and plopped her back into her crib while I rinsed out the onesie. At this point in my head, I was thankful the first batch of laundry I started was ours so there was still time for me to wash this onesie in her laundry. I rinsed it and left it in the sink to soak a bit.

Now, after what felt like an hour detour in my day, (it was actually about 30 minutes), I returned to eat my cold oatmeal that had well-absorbed all the liquid. Not appetizing anymore for someone who dislikes oatmeal to begin with, but hey, any time a mom gets to eat is a good thing. After wolfing down my oatmeal, I realize she's being quite fussy still and won't play by herself - which she is usually very good at - a cue that she's hungry. Well, obviously,  after clearing the pipes, who wouldn't be hungry again?

So I fed her solids, the ones she likes, so I wouldn't have to play tricks on her to eat. Once I heard our load of laundry finish in the washing machine, I transferred it to the dryer and started her load of laundry in the wash. I was so excited to have two batches of laundry going, a fed baby, and everything ready to go out to buy groceries.

And then it started raining. Not pouring sheets of rain, but enough to make myself wonder why in the world I thought it was a good morning to go grocery shopping in the cold and now rain. We made it to the grocery store, and of course all the shopping carts were wet having been towed in from the previous day and this morning. Hooray for shopping cart covers to double as towels. I grocery shopped and realized that the baby had again leveled up. Every time I stopped the cart to grab something, I'd see her lean out as far as she could and grab whatever she was next to. Note to self - park the cart obnoxiously in the middle of every aisle so the baby can't reach anything. People will understand that you're actually thinking one step ahead instead of one step behind and preventing any grocery avalanches from occurring, right? Totally.

We made it home from the grocery store and she fell asleep about 5 minutes from home. I pulled into the garage and saw her open her eyes! I watched her through the mirror and saw that she was just dozing and was closing them again. We both sat in the car for 5 minutes, mostly for me just to make sure she was going back to sleep and wouldn't wake up as I unloaded the car first before unloading her. Once I got her in and settled on the floor, I again, saw her open her eyes! This usually doesn't happen, not to mention twice! I walked away and hid in the next room to wait and see if she'd resettle herself back to sleep. When I saw that she wasn't moving her little hands or making noises, I reappeared and continued finishing up things around the house. She fell back asleep again, thank goodness.

As I quietly unloaded our laundry from the dryer and transferred her laundry from the washing machine to dry, I thought in my head if there was anything that needed to be hung dry. I checked the jumpsuit for poop stains and didn't see any so deemed it dryable. We air dry anything that was stained before washing so the stains don't set if they didn't come out 100% and we can either keep the clothes for keepsakes or maintain as pristine condition as possible for resale.

Then it hit me. I didn't wash the onesie that she pooped all over.

I walked over to the bathroom, and sure enough, the onesie was still there soaking away. I had failed to add it to the wash before loading us all up for the grocery store.

It'll get washed next week.

On the bright side, the baby is still asleep, I've put all the groceries away, and it's time for me to wolf down some lunch before she wakes up.

Yes, I still love her. :)

Mamalogues: Pillowcases, Pillows, and Laundry

I used to have time to iron my pillowcases.

We set up the ironing board in our bedroom for the longest time because my husband would iron his shirts. (This has since been replaced with her pack and play.) One night, I just decided I wanted to iron the pillowcases.

There was a set of pillowcases I'd had since I was a teenager. I bought them before I'd met my husband. They were multicolor polka dots with a teal stripe on the side as a more "sophisticated" edge. I'm pretty sure they sat new in the package for over five years. I bought them in order to meet a $25 minimum for free shipping because what I actually wanted was the duvet cover. They weren't folded perfectly in the package so years later when I opened them to actually use them, they were wrinkled.

So that night, I said I was going to iron out the wrinkles and make them beautifully pressed and arranged in the little basket of pillowcases I have in our linen closet. I went over each side of the pillowcase and ironed and smoothed and pressed until the wrinkles came out. They were beautifully ironed and flat and looked so perfect when I returned them to the linen closet in the basket.

And then I had to wash them. Of course, the wrinkles came back.

After that, I gave up ironing pillowcases. After all, we layer two or three pillowcases on each pillow, because, you know, we don't want the nasty yellow stains on our pillows because those are gross. But when you buy $10 pillows, I guess it doesn't matter anyway because they're easily replaced for cheap. But then I decided to go out and get "fancy" pillows because we stayed at the Omni Hotel once and man, I fell for their pillows. They had the nicest pillows I'd ever slept on, and usually I'm not terribly picky. But those pillows....perfectly soft and perfectly firm. Man. Should have just bought some at the hotel after we stayed, but instead I tried to Google the supplier for the pillows the Omni has. I bought those instead (for 1/5 the price of one pillow at the Omni website).

They are definitely 1/5 as good as the Omni pillows.

This afternoon I did three complete loads of laundry. And I mean three large loads of laundry filling the machine each time. I'm not even trying to show off my eco-friendly-ness. There was that much laundry. One for the baby. One for us. And one for our sheets.

The baby decided to take a two hour nap this afternoon which was amazing because I could start and finish each load with about 40-45 minutes between to do other tasks around the house. Hubby helped me to feed her before her nap and get her to sleep, and then, he was able to get some things done on the computer.

Y'all. There is no time to iron pillowcases anymore.

The Glass Slippers

We had a Cinderella weekend.

As Cinderella got ready for her ball and the birds tied her bows, we packed everything up - diapers, wipes, food, milk, toys - and went out to be social and live life again. An early Christmas party here. A birthday party there. And a dinner date. And while Cinderella was at her ball dancing with the prince, so were we, eating plates of food, having conversations, happily letting someone else hold our baby.

Cinderella heard the clock strike every hour as did we as we watched our clocks and calculated how much time we had left before her energy would drain and unleash the screaming. When the clock struck 12, Cinderella suddenly realized it was time to rush out before her beautiful facade faded away back to brown rags and torn cloth. As Sasha became more antsy and wouldn't sit still anymore, we rushed to pack everything up and get her loaded in the car before she made a commotion of noise.

And of course, Cinderella's carriage and driver reverted back to their pumpkin, vines, and animal selves. And she walked the rest of the way home (as the cartoon showed). And the baby still screamed all the way home on the car rides, unleashing herself and her needs for everyone to hear.

Cinderella's story is not all sad and depressing. Her glass slippers stayed and did not disappear as everything else did. And she had her happily ever after when the prince found his princess with tiny delicate feet which fit into those exquisite glass slippers.

I always did want Cinderella's glass slippers...

As for us? Well, despite all the screaming and crying and fussy feeds and throw up and poop explosions (all of which happened this weekend at one point or another), those are gone. And chances are, we won't remember every single second of every party and social outing this weekend. Like the carriage, the gown, the horses. Those disappeared. But the glass slippers? Yup, still here 😉

Turner Falls

I've been wanting to share about various topics, but the time to sit down and write about them has always escaped me. This last month has been full of work, puking, and not enough sleep. Thankfully, I am not the one puking. Unfortunately, the little one's puking involves lots of laundry instead of scampering to a toilet.

However, we planned this trip about a month ago and were grateful it was able to happen.

Usually I teach every other Friday, but we made it a point to not teach/take off Friday the 26th so we could go on a day trip. Hubby's love of the outdoors has infiltrated my life and in our four years of marriage, we have hiked over 30 miles together. We went to Palo Duro Canyon in September of 2015, Big Bend in December of 2016, and Haleakala National Park in Hawaii in March of 2017. Our record together is a 15 mile hike in one 12-hour day, but the approximately 10 mile hike of Haleakala crater (where you go down first and then up) was no joke.

After having Sasha, we knew our days of tent camping and hiking long trails beginning at 5 am would be put on hold indefinitely. And, unfortunately, living in the wonderful and affordable suburbia which we do, nature is not a nearby focal point. However, I somehow came across this small park in Oklahoma, known for its waterfall, which was only about 2.5 hours away from us, closer than driving to Austin or Houston! We decided to make a day trip of it.

When we crossed the state border, we actually started to see a change in the landscape around us - we saw (tiny) mountains and different layers of rock formations! It actually reminded me a tiny tiny bit of Big Bend.

Some expectations and then reality checks of how the day actually played out.

Expectations:

1. We wanted to play the drive there and home right around the time baby would sleep so she could get a good long nap in the car on the drive there and home.


2. We brought our portable high chair seat so she could sit while we picnicked outside for lunch.


3. We'd get in a short hike with her in the carrier.

Reality:

1. Baby woke up at 7 am instead of her usual 8/8:30 am....so we bumped everything up and tried to leave the house by 9 am. We left at 9:15. She slept great on the way there. On the way back, we tried to leave by 2:30, but baby took too long eating so we didn't leave until 2:45/3:00pm. She slept ok and then woke up at 4:00pm and then screamed and cried the final 10 minutes home, probably because she was the only one in the back and had no people interaction for over 2 hours and didn't get any crawling/play time all day. I didn't want to sit in the back with her because I did for our last road trip and I got a headache/nauseas and just wanted to close my eyes and sleep.

2. She sat in her portable high chair seat, which was great so we could eat our lunch....except there were a crazy ton of bees and they wouldn't leave us alone. Had I been a third party watching us try to eat our lunch at this picnic table, it would have been a hilarious sight watching two people swatting their arms around, flinching every now and then, and walking around the table in weird circles and patterns with a baby sitting on the high chair seat on the table.

The only item I paid for in this photo was the hat
she's not wearing! Love hand me downs and gifts.

To be honest, it was really hard to get my priorities straight: run away from the bees, or get the bees away from the baby. Clearly, I couldn't do both because my lunch was on the table and I couldn't carry the baby and carry my lunch (a hot bowl of curry) away at the same time. So hard, right? Clearly first world problems.

A bowl of curry and homemade bread. Could the bees not leave us alone? 😭😭

3. We arrived at the park at 11:45 am and by the time the two of us were fed and we managed to get her to finish a bottle, it was 1:00 pm. We explored the waterfall and took our fair share of pictures, and then had a short hike of probably 1 mile round trip.

It only matters if she looks cute.

Family photo!

Nothing compared to what we used to conquer in a day, but we did see a yellow caterpillar on the way back though and had an amusing time watching it crawl around for a while.

Our little yellow caterpillar friend. We named it Yuzzy!

Traveling with a little one in tow is definitely so different than traveling with two adults, but after doing so twice now, it makes me a little braver to keep going. We're going to get her a passport soon.

2019 is going to be a big year (I hope!) :)

Goodbye Mum

I sold my senior Homecoming mum today, sold it for 50% of the cost of the mum to begin with...so if you don't factor in inflation, that would be a negative 50% return. However, if you consider it literally plastic, paper, and ribbon hot glued together to make something ridiculously noisy that high school girls wear around for one day of their lives, I made a great sale. No, I did not wear mine around school. It's been hanging on a wall in my old bedroom for the last 10 years in pristine condition.

Every fall, I contemplated selling it to make some money and to get rid of it, but every fall, I either forgot or couldn't bring myself to sell it. There was too much sentimentality behind it because it was completely my own handiwork.

My handmade senior mum.

During junior year, my homecoming date was from another school. He and I had agreed not to do the mum and garter stuff with each other. We were going together just to have a date for the dance and to hang out with our friends. Well, being the girly girl I was, (and still am at heart,) I bought my own mum that year from the drill team moms and paid for it with my own money. I also bought some craft things and put together a last minute garter for him anyway even though we said we weren't going to do that. It wasn't my finest handiwork, but you know, for someone who thought he wasn't getting a garter, I think he was pleasantly surprised to have gotten one after all. I'm sure it's long been in the trash for years since that night.

For senior year, my homecoming date was yet again from another school. He and I had again agreed not to do the mum and garter stuff with each other. We were, once again, going together just to have a date for the dance and to hang out with our friends. And once again, being the girly girl I was, I wanted my own mum - because let's face it, the silver and white ones are so much more "elegant" than the maroon and white ones, if you can even call glitter, ribbon, and plastic "elegant."

But, I was going to make my own. Being a year wiser than I was the previous year and more intuitive, I figured out how to assemble all these seemingly useless pieces of craft materials they sell at Hobby Lobby and Michael's into something rather beautiful. My favorite part was the mum base. I creatively designed my own pattern and put it together with some of the more expensive glitter ribbons.

My mum base.

The trickiest part to making beautiful mums which I discovered in my own experience is how to embellish and hide the staples and glue. Everyone can take hot glue and glue a cow bell onto a piece of ribbon, or tie a cow bell onto a string and hang it off the mum. But how many people can DIY hide the charm hole at the top of the cow bell with something beautiful? (Also considering that mums are most often made by boys for girls with high expectations, chances are slim to none that they have any idea how to do this; hence, The Mum Shop in Plano has such lucrative business for only operating 3 months of the year.)

Someone out there will be Class of 2019...how
convenient: I only had to change one sticker.

17-year-old me figured that out, and I had a lot of fun making my own bows and ribbon embellishments to hide the charm holes, staples, and hot glue.

Made my own deluxe loops, and my own
ribbon braid on the right.

Cleverly concealed the top of the bell
beneath a decorative ribbon.

It was still very bittersweet and a bit sad when I handed away my mum to the lady who was picking it up. Granted, I would much rather have the cash than my mum hanging in my room, but I'm still sentimental at heart and I will miss my fine handiwork from 10 years ago. Also I'm pretty sure she will take apart my mum and simply use it for pieces to make another one. But I'm thankful I was able to sell it for cash than simply throw it away in the trash. Perhaps my legacy will live on anonymously through someone else's mum, at least for one year.

Just for kicks and giggles, I went online to The Mum Shop and created a mum order for something comparable to mine (number of charms, number of ribbons, etc.) to see how much it would cost to buy. I paid quite a bit less than what they're charging. Here are the numbers:

In my opinion, mums these days have gotten so large and so flashy that they're gaudy. I think they're actually more beautiful and elegant when they don't weigh 20 pounds and cover the entire girl whom it adorns. But I digress.

I did, however, remember to remove one detail from my mum. Years ago when I was preparing to hang my mum in my room, I needed a large needle or safety pin to hang it up on the pushpin. The only thing I could think of to use was a pearl pin I had kept in my music box. Before selling it and giving it away, I switched out the pearl pin with one of my many safety pins I've amassed from shopping at baby consignments. (I probably could have handed it to her without anything and it would have been fine, but I was trying to make it more marketable.) 

Why such a big fuss over such a small pin? It's the pin from my corsage from my mother's funeral.

In about sixteen years, I'll hopefully be able to pull up this blog post and share with my daughter about my old Homecoming mum and how much fun I had making it and how special it was for me. 

Goodbye, mum. I'll miss you.

The Shopping Cart Conundrum

I took my daughter with me to the dentist today. She sat quietly in her car seat carrier in the corner as I got my teeth cleaned. The last 10 minutes or so she became a little fussy, but overall she was very good - everyone said she was super cute, very aware, and healthy-looking. Why, yes, if I don't say so myself.

After finishing up at the dentist, I really wanted to go grocery shopping next door because I'd put off shopping for groceries for about 10 days and we were down to eating rice and beans, frozen chicken nuggets, and deli sandwiches. I've always loved the fact that my dentist's office was next to a grocery store I frequent, albeit it's up to 40 minutes away from my house.

I didn't have the stroller caddy with me in my trunk today because it ended up in my husband's car so I figured I'd plop her in a shopping cart and grab the few items I needed:

- 2 onions
- 5 pouches of baby food
- 2 cartons of strawberries
- 1 bag of carrots (1lb)
- 1 bag of potatoes (5lb)
- 1 container of yogurt

Doesn't seem like much, right? Usually, this would be no problem for a basket and I'd hold the bag of potatoes in my other hand. Well, when your baby in the car seat in the cart takes up 100% of the base of the shopping cart, and there's no room left to flip out the little part at the front that usually your child would sit in (but she can't safely sit with only a lap belt yet), you need to leave empty-handed or get creative very quickly.

I piled stuff around her feet being careful not to crush her toes. I put some items above the hood of her carrier, and anything else I held in my hands to the checkout line.

After checking out, I piled the few bags of groceries on the bottom level of the cart where you would normally put your heavy items - cases of soda, water, larger boxes, etc. Carefully, I pushed her out of the store, being extra cautious when pushing her over the threshold at the sliding door entrance. Well, I was doing great until I went to go down the accessibility ramp (which I learned in college is mandatory for all buildings/stores/places to have a ramp for handicap accessibility, or in this case, mothers pushing strollers or grocery shopping carts) and the ramp had ridges. Dundundundun went the cart, and of course the vibrations jiggled my precariously placed bags on the bottom level of the cart off onto the ground.

So here I was, diaper backpack on my back, purse over my shoulder slowly slipping down, holding the cart so it wouldn't roll away into the street with my precious baby, attempting to bend over to grab all the spilled items, and hoping nobody is behind me trying to exit the store because I am smack in the middle of their way.

Would you believe me if I said it wasn't the first time this has happened? It's not.

So this is my life: teaching piano part time, raising a baby, and wondering if there's actually going to be any room in my shopping cart for the groceries.

"Mommy, stop crowding my personal space."

Parenting Etiquette

The longer I'm a parent, the more I realize that there are some topics or questions that really bother me. I have been guilty of more than one of these myself in my pre-mommy days, but now that I'm fully immersed on the other side, I know better.

You may not agree with me on any or all of these, but these are my personal thoughts on some questions/comments to avoid telling/asking new parents.

 1. "Enjoy the time when they're young. They grow up so fast!"

 As a parent, I knew I had to do this, but in the spur of the moments - in other words, every single waking second - it's really really hard to enjoy. I personally did not enjoy the newborn stage. Not being able to do ANYTHING with my time (or so it felt) was so irritating at times. I literally felt like I had to feed her, put her to sleep, wash bottles when she slept, cook when she slept, pump when she slept, do laundry when she slept, and then repeat the cycle all over again. Yes, it's true, laundry can wait. Sometimes. Yes it's true, cooking can wait. Sometimes. Yes, it's true, washing bottles can wait. Sometimes. But every now and then things have to be done, and those things have to be done somewhere between the minutes and hours of tending to a baby's needs. It gets frustrating fast. Were there moments I enjoyed? Absolutely. Did I purposely try to enjoy and savor it? Probably not.

 2. "Is he/she sleeping through the night yet?"

 This is the favorite question of many people I know. Even family has asked me this, and it gets old really quickly. Because every time I respond with "No" they seem shocked - why isn't your baby sleeping through the night yet? Are you really that concerned about my sleep? Because if you are, you should really start asking women during pregnancy if they're sleeping through the night. I don't think I've slept through the night in an entire year or more. There's no true "time" for babies to sleep through the night. I've talked to friends where it took up to a year or more for their babies to sleep through the night. Honestly, I'm okay when she wakes up at night to eat because she eats better at night than she does during the day sometimes. So who cares if she wakes up at night to eat? I care if she's eating! Yes, there will be a time when she gets older and is more than capable of sleeping through the night, and at that point, I will parent a little differently in order to train her to do that. But when she's young - 2, 3, 4, even 8 months, please don't be surprised if I tell you my baby is not sleeping through the night. I understand this is a perfectly honest question to ask, but if you must ask, please always respond with "Oh, that's good," no matter what I tell you. (I've had friends/other parents ask me about her sleep and respond in this way - thank you for doing so. I appreciate it and remember who you are!)

 3. Parenting other parents This doesn't happen often, but I think there was one time, someone heard my baby crying, saw me "struggling" to feed her and told me "Oh, I don't think she wants to eat. I think she's sleepy." She may have been sleepy also, but I was pretty sure she was hungry, too. Once I got her to somewhere quieter and laying on the floor instead of holding her in my arms, she finished the bottle and then it was nap time. I think. I don't really recall anymore. Parental instinct is not natural FYI...it doesn't just appear when you have a baby. No matter how nurturing you are, how caring you are, how kind you can be, or how much you love your baby, you don't just wake up one day and suddenly "get the hang of it." So yes, you will see me struggle to take care of my own child. Please don't act like you know more than I do about my baby, even if you are a veteran parent. There's no "one size fits all" to parenting. By the way, I have a very picky baby when it comes to eating positions. I will literally try feeding her, she will refuse to eat, and then 5 minutes later she starts crying, I move her somewhere else, and she will finish the bottle. True story.

 So what is something all parents, new or experienced, want to hear from other people?

 Encouragement. "You're doing a great job."

Seriously, something as simple as that, means a lot. Especially through the exploding poop diapers, crazy spit up, nursing/feeding strikes, hours of non-stop seemingly "for no reason" crying that babies do every now and then, we, moms and dads, need to hear that our endless guess-and-check attempts are not in vain.

 To my sweet mommy friends who have encouraged me (and inspired me to write this post):

 Thank you.

馒头

My grandmother was the cook in the family. It's sad to say I honestly don't remember anything specific about her cooking. She cooked everything! I remember holiday meals at their house when they lived 15 minutes away from us and many dishes on the table, but I have no recollection of eating it. I was still too young to appreciate or enjoy the cultural dishes with sophisticated flavors. They moved away when I was about 10 or 11 years old.

What I do remember, however, is what my grandfather made: steamed bread (馒头). I remember in the summers he would cover their entire kitchen counter with dough and flour and make tons of steamed bread and buns. I never helped in the process, but I remember watching him roll out and knead the dough by hand. I remember him pinching my nose with floured hands. I remember playing with small bits of dough he'd rip off and hand to me. (Side note: This is where I learned how hot Texas summers were. Once, I took the small ball of dough outside with me to play. We had this little Fisher Price tricycle and some other self-propelling plastic toy car. I was riding around on one of them in the driveway. I needed to use the bathroom, but I still wanted to play. I remember leaving my ball of dough on the toy outside in the driveway, running inside really quickly to go, and returning back outside only to find my ball of dough was now a hollow, wrinkly, rubbery ball. Seriously, I wasn't gone that long. )

Over 15 years later, the urge to want to replicate my grandfather's steamed bread has returned. I think partially it's because cooking while taking care of a baby and working part time is exhausting. I have to think far in advance what to thaw, what to buy from the grocery store, and how I'm going to plan my time to prep and cook - I hardly ever cook at "dinner time" anymore. We love going out and buying steamed buns (包子) - so easy and so tasty - but it adds up financially. So the goal was to try and make some ourselves. However, the first step was to get the outer bread right.

I finally had some time yesterday afternoon to sit down and make some steamed bread. I followed this recipe. And found the results decent. I'm not sure if my dough didn't rise as it should have or if I cut my portions too big...I only yielded 4 and the recipe said 8. Oh well. Steaming time was also a little different because after about 10 minutes I felt they were done (they were) and took them out.

I was so excited to try one. Upon ripping off a piece from the side and tasting it, I was immediately transported back to my childhood, standing in my grandparent's kitchen, being fed bits of this freshly steamed warm bread. I'm not sure I could replicate this again if I made it a second time or doubled/tripled the recipe, but it's a start.

I did forget to follow the instruction to cover with floured plastic wrap, hence the little peaks on the tops of my bread versus a smooth round top. Needless to say I had a hard time removing the plastic from the tops...

We're one step closer to making 包子! One of these days I'll find an afternoon for hubby to watch the baby for a solid 5-6 hours and I can cook in peace.

The Dollhouse Furniture

There's a doctor somewhere out there who has brought me much grief. No, I was not her patient. No, nobody I know has been or is her patient. Why then? Because she never returned what she borrowed from me nearly 15 years ago.

We weren't even friends really. We went to school together. She was a few years older than me and I had "little sister syndrome." I wanted to hang with the older kids and do everything they were doing. No, don't worry, I never got myself in trouble....for the most part.

10th grade science was chemistry. They had a mole project assigned, and she was making a little "mole" house I think. She asked if I had dollhouse furniture and wanted to borrow them for her project. Me, having "little sister syndrome," immediately let her borrow the pieces she wanted. They were some of my favorites - the shower, the toilet (with a lid that actually lifted up and down), a sofa, etc.

Years after she had finished 10th grade chemistry and was about to graduate, I remember asking people to ask her about returning my dollhouse furniture. Because we weren't actually friends and the introvert and ever developing passive aggressive side of me thought it inappropriate to directly ask her for them back myself. I remember asking a friend to ask her, and he told me when he asked her about returning the pieces, she became angry. Who does that?

I never got the dollhouse furniture back. Years and years later when I was cleaning out my dad's house, I looked again at my incomplete set of dollhouse furniture which was missing some of my favorite pieces. It'd been so many years, I had long given up on ever seeing them again. I boxed away the remaining pieces and gave them away. I had convinced myself it wasn't worth keeping an incomplete set.

It was just a simple $10 40-pc set of girly dollhouse furniture from Toys 'R Us. Everything was constructed of plastic in shades of white, pink, and light blue. I loved that set of dollhouse furniture. The drawers and cabinets actually opened and closed. The tiny television had a sticker of New York City with the Statue of Liberty framed between the Twin Towers. The set came with a mommy, daddy, and baby doll. The baby even had a cradle that rocked back and forth.

As a child I asked for a lot of things. I wanted a lot of things as children do. And for the most part, I did not get them. This is not to say I did not receive things I wanted or that my mother never bought me things. She bought me a lot of things - clothes, books, snacks - but when it came to toys, she was always the first to say no. With all the toys I had growing up - and I had a lot, most of them meticulously taken care of and saved to this day - I remember my dad buying them.

I remember looking in the Toys 'R Us ad and flipping through the colorful pages. I saw this set of dollhouse furniture and remember it costing $9.99. Surely that price for the value would convince my mother to buy it for me. 40 pieces for $10? That's $0.25 a piece - what a steal! I showed it to my mother, and she actually agreed to buy it for me. I still remember going to the store with her, and she asked the salesman to get a package from the top shelf because she wanted to make sure the box we bought was in good condition.

Thinking about this memory always makes me cry. There's anger. There's sadness. I've told myself over and over again I just need to get over it and move on. In some ways I have. Over the years I've always just thought the dollhouse furniture was sentimental to me because my mother bought it, and having lost her, it made the things she gave me more meaningful. This time, when this memory resurfaced, I realized why this set of colorful, cheap plastic was truly sentimental: my mother said yes.

Sasha's First Road Trip!

We just got back from an 8 day trip with 3 days driving with our little 3 month old. Let me tell you....it is not easy traveling with a little one, and being that I am exclusively pumping, that adds an extra layer of complication to the whole ordeal. But, it was a lot of fun.

The TLDR version:

- 5 days in Houston
- big party for Sasha
- didn't pack enough diapers
- bottle sterilizer broke
- super fun getting to meet up with friends and new babies
- 3 days in Austin
- baby's first wedding (and of course she woke up crying right when it started....sorry Nick and Tiffany!)
- one sleepy (but really good) baby

For the details and pictures, read on.

We took my little Corolla on this road trip because hubby's car is still "new" to us and we're keeping the mileage low in case we ever do want to sell it/trade for a minivan or something bigger. Believe it or not, we fit everything into my little car: a bouncer, a pack and play, a baby bathtub, bottle sterilizer, drying rack, her suitcase, my duffel, hubby's duffel and backpack, stroller caddy, diaper bag, extra diapers and wipes, boppy, and a small bottle of laundry detergent. I may have left off a few small things.

We are really good at tetris.

And of course, 30 minutes into the drive, I realize I'm missing the second bottle bag with the extra milk in it, so we turn around to go home and spend about 10 minutes looking for it. Because what actually happened was we were getting her ready (and trying to get her to finish a big bottle before driving) and it took forever so I had the milk packed in the bottle bag. Well, I put the bottle bag back into the fridge to keep it colder longer and then in the chaos of getting her and everything else loaded up, forgot to get it out of the fridge to bring. So of course when hubby did our "final walkthrough".... he didn't see it. Oops.

We still made it to Houston in good time which included a pitstop at Buc-ee's! Perfect timing because she pooped and needed to be changed. Usually we were able to both use the restroom and both finish about the same time. Not so with a baby. Hubby held baby and changing supplies while I went. Then I went back in with her to change while he went. We always thought the stuffed beavers were cute before, but they're even cuter when you have a little one!

Fist Bump

Fist bump?

Sasha was really good during her big party. There were tons of people and she got passed around pretty much the whole time she was awake. It really helped her nap schedule because she would go to sleep, wake up and eat, and then be passed around again for an hour. This happened about 3 times until the party ended and it was time for her to get ready for bed.

The star of the show also happens to be the tiniest.

This trip was extra special because it was also when we got to see some of our close friends for the first time in over a year! Since the last time we saw them, they had their baby boy who is now almost 10 months old and we had Sasha (who didn't even exist in cells yet!) It was so nice to be able to spend time with them, see their cute baby, Judah, and hang out together. Of course it was different than the last time we were able to see each other sans babies, but this is our new normal, and it's much cuter, more fun, and so worth it to be able to share the joys of raising babies even when we're many many states apart.

Mix and match mommies and babies.

To be honest we didn't do a whole lot in Houston. Besides the party and seeing our friends, we mostly spent our time staying at home with minimal trips out just to run quick errands or go shopping, like when Mommy doesn't pack enough diapers and we need to get some and pay twice what we normally do for diapers (oh well...). Hubby's parents moved across town recently, and I can totally see why. Getting to wake up in the morning to quiet breakfasts before baby woke up and winding down our days after she went to sleep to this view was so worth it:

After leaving Houston, we went to Austin for a wedding. Before the wedding, we had some time during the day and decided to explore UT campus with her. I don't think I'd ever enjoyed campus as much as I did walking through it pushing Sasha in her stroller. I did have to find all the wheelchair friendly entrances to push her easily, and when we didn't, we lifted the stroller over small flights of stairs. I have serious respect for those students who require wheelchairs to get around campus. Although the wheelchair accessibility is there, it is not easy to find!

The original plan was to have her awake during this visit so we could take some pictures while carrying her. We even put her in her UT onesie. Of course, she woke up later than usual, took a little longer to eat, and then fell asleep right when we got ready to leave. So you can't really see her pink UT onesie at all. Babies...I think they're much more keen than we give them credit for and know how to ruin all their parents plans, don't you think?

I think with the exception of my extra defined eye-baggies, I could totally pass for a college kid with a baby. I'm pretty sure I have a picture with a near identical expression from 6 years ago.

My oldest burnt orange tee with the youngest longhorn.

We visited my favorite (aka: most frequented) building on campus. Guess where!

Mommy used to live there, pre-renovation and all!

We were going to visit the SAC as well because I remember them putting in the filtered water fountains that you could refill water bottles with. Unfortunately, we visited on a Saturday morning and the SAC did not open until 12 during its summer hours on Saturdays. Fortunately, there was a water refill station outside the building...along with lots of new fountains. At least, I think they're new. If they're not, please humor me and let me think they're new.

Of course, when traveling with a baby (and scheduling everything around my pumping schedule), sometimes you just end up sitting in your expensive hotel for the afternoon and letting baby roll around on the bed. Which results in some pretty cute pictures:

Seriously. Where did you get all this cuteness from?

Staying at a hotel for the first time with a baby made me realize that to keep some of my sanity and to keep life relatively easy, I had to break the majority of the rules I learned growing up. As a child traveling with my family, my mother always told me, when staying at a hotel:

- First thing you do is to check the bedsheets to make sure they're clean.
- Don't ever walk around barefoot in the room.
- Try to minimize the number of things on the floor - keep them on chairs, tables, bed as much as possible.

Sorry mom, I definitely forgot to check the bedsheets until after we were all moved in and getting ready to sleep. (They were clean, thankfully.) I definitely walked around barefoot because when your baby is waking up 2x more than normal due to new surroundings and messed up schedules, it's just easier not to fumble with shoes, even slip ons. And we definitely put things all over the floor (except the baby!) because things are just better when you're not carrying them in your arms.

The wedding was fun. It definitely wasn't what we're used to - go to the wedding, sit and enjoy ceremony, socialize during cocktail hour, enjoy a four-course meal, dance, etc.

We still clean up pretty well.

It went something more like: go to the wedding, hope baby doesn't wake up, baby wakes up right when ceremony begins, whisk crying baby away, come back and sit while bouncing baby on shoulder for 15 minutes, feed baby, push baby around stroller to fall asleep during cocktail hour, baby falls asleep so you go in for the reception, baby wakes up immediately during reception because sudden loud noises like the microphone wake her up, baby stays up all through dinner, hubby cuts wifey's tenderloin so she can use one hand to hold pacifier in baby's mouth so it doesn't keep falling out and cause her to cry, take a few photos at the photobooth with friends you see once a year, stay as long as possible to finish dinner, leave and go home so baby can sleep because she's been awake for almost 4 hours straight which is 2.5 hours too long, drive home hoping baby falls asleep, baby doesn't fall asleep, starts wailing in the last 10 minutes of car ride (but thankfully stayed quiet for 25), baby falls asleep finally when you get back to hotel room.



I guess one perk of having a wide-awake baby at the end of the night was to snap a cute photo for their guest book:

Our family representative.

Am I glad we were able to get away for a week? Yes, most definitely yes. It was a great change of scenery for us compared to the simple day to day. And it was so nice not to worry about cooking or meal prepping. Would I do this again? Um...not any time soon. And if you're a mom and have breastfed before, you'll understand that exclusive pumping is almost harder than being able to breastfeed your baby and/or a mix of both. We definitely want to travel and take her places, but I think we'll wait until after she's one :)

Nostalgia

I speak Chinese at home with my daughter. She doesn't understand what I'm saying yet, but it exposes her to the language. My theory is that my parents were both fluent in reading, writing, and speaking. I got....about half of their ability overall, maybe even less. So if the trend continues, my daughter will only get half of MY Chinese ability. That's not a lot...

So we're starting early with my poor tones, incorrect grammar, and all. It'll get better. I hope. But this blog isn't about my baby.

It'll be nearing five whole years since I left China. I have to remind myself I actually lived in a completely different culture and lifestyle than I was used to for an entire year. A lot of it feels like a blur to be honest. I can't remember details of what happened, and it seems like a lifetime ago. The one memory I can actually vividly remember is from our very first night after arriving in the city we would call home for a year.

We had taken the train from Beijing to Harbin. It was about 8 hours if I remember correctly. Once we arrived in Harbin, it was around 10 o'clock at night or later. The city was mostly quiet and dark. A teacher from our school, who was also sometimes our translator over the course of the year, had gone to Beijing and traveled back to Harbin with us on the train. He got us two taxis, gave them our destination, and we were driving off in the night in a foreign city to a place we would come to know very well.

I remember sitting in the taxi and staring out the window at the brightly lit signs that were on so late in the evening. Most of the city was shut down for the night, but certain signs and buildings were lit. I remember being in awe of my new surroundings and thinking, "This is going to be my new home."

The taxis stopped in the middle of the road somewhere and the driver told the teacher this was where we had to get off. The teacher asked if he could get us any closer. The driver said no because there was a lot of construction happening outside the main gate of the school, so that was the closest he could get us. The teacher seemed disappointed with his answer and insisted he drive us to the opposite side of the school wall and drop us off there because it was closer. The driver did not seem convinced it was closer, but he drove to the other side anyway.

I didn't know it that night, but over time as the campus became more familiar to me, I realized the driver was right. We ended up getting dropped off on the other side of the school gate and walked basically the entire width of the school to get to the gate and go in. Had we gotten off at our first stop, we could have saved ourselves about half the walk. Of course, we simply did what we were told and didn't complain or say anything because we were at the mercy of this new country in a new language and culture, and it was nearing midnight. We each had our two smaller bags. Our larger bags were shipped to the school so we did not have to lug them with us through the train station and onto the crowded train with very little storage.

Sidenote: Yes, I am Chinese and grew up eating Asian food, hearing the language, and even shared some of the same cultural values. But being Chinese in America is nothing compared to actually being Chinese and living in China. I was still very much foreign, very clueless, and my accent could be called out for being an outsider in about 10 seconds.

When we got to our dormitory, we knocked on the door, and the auntie who monitors the building came down and let us in. She asked if we wanted the keys to all the rooms. We just got two - the two on the lowest level (2nd floor) - and crashed for the night. It had been a long day of travel, but the hard work was yet to come.

The rest of the year was spent learning how to shower with a shoilet and hide your toilet paper so it didn't get wet, cooking on a hot plate, balancing ourselves on icy ground for six months out of the year, pushing our way through the school cafeteria so we could get our order in and eat before our lunch break was over, and many other lifestyle differences. I moved into a total of two apartments, one having only a few hours notice to move and get everything down the second time around.

My writing is not stellar, award winning, Nobel Prize material. But I'm glad I was able to write down some of the more interesting stories into a book. I'm glad I have it to share with my daughter when she is older. And I hope she can read the few Chinese sentences and phrases I've inserted throughout. Maybe there were more than a few...(Pretty sure I wrote it so context clues could give you an idea of the meaning at least.)

Do I miss China, or specifically Harbin? Yes and no. I really can't imagine ever living there again, especially not raising a baby. I remember seeing the marshmallow-looking babies bundled up in snowsuits in their mothers' arms. I constantly asked myself - how does the mother know if her baby is warm enough? Not to mention the potential danger of slipping on ice while holding your child in the winter...carrying eggs home from the market was dangerous enough!

But when memories come to me in the evening and I share them with my husband, I can't help but think how brave and bold I was at one point in my life to move halfway across the world and embrace a newness most people would immediately reject. What was once my life and home is now my nostalgia.

Dear Mommy, ; Love, Mommy

My 7th grade English teacher gave me a journal and a locket when my mother died. She told me to write my memories of my mother so they could be remembered. I'm not sure I wrote down memories of her, but I ended up writing letters to her. I started each one with "Dear Mommy,". In the first ten years or so, they were frequent. I would write almost monthly. In a way, I felt forced to because I wanted to somehow keep her in my life and feel like she was still there. But then, the letters became less frequent. After getting married, I didn't write any letters to her until I got pregnant. I think in a way it's symbolic of the grieving process I experienced represented by the frequency of the letters. Life became more normal without her and slowly her presence faded. Doesn't mean she mattered any less to me, but it was a new normal.

She kept a diary in the last few years of her life. Most of it was written in Chinese. She would write down the happenings of the day, the progression of her prognoses, and include tidbits about what was happening in our lives as well. She never shared it with me or anything, and I didn't think much about it. After she died, my grandfather requested to have her diary. I never asked him about what was written in it and he never shared. Perhaps it was more sentimental just to keep the diary than actually reading through her logs. He died less than a year later and the diary moved along with my grandmother because she could not live alone. When I spent summers with my grandmother during the last few years of her life, I'd occasionally look for the diary, but I never found it. Even if I did, I doubt I would have been able to translate most of it.

I don't really have anything in writing left from my mother. That's something I wish I had more of. The most I have in writing from her is a newsletter journal from the first grade. Throughout the school year, about six times total, we would write letters to our parents about what we were learning or what events were happening at school. Then, we would take the journal home and our parents would read our letters and write one back to us. My reply letters were written by my mother.

About two months ago, I went out and bought a journal. If you've known me a while, you'll know that I've journaled and written diaries for years and years. But what you may not know is that I have always journaled in the cheap spiral notebooks you used to be able to find on sale for 10 cents each during the school supply sales. I wasn't into the fancy notebooks with designs or bound in leather because I felt like you couldn't neatly shelf them - it wouldn't be consistent. So I figured the simple spiral notebooks were easier to keep organized. Ironically, they're all boxed away sitting on a shelf somewhere. I don't know what I will do with them. Perhaps when my daughter goes through her teenage rebellious phase, I'll bring out the journals and let her read about my own teenage rebellious phase.

Anyway, the journal I bought is for her. I started writing letters in them before she was born, and whenever I get a chance or have something worth noting, I write it down in a letter to her. Jonathan writes in it occasionally, too.  Every letter in there I write ends the same way: Love, Mommy.

I'll probably still write letters to my mother. Perhaps not as often or as frequent, but now, I am also Mommy.

Raising a Baby is like Picking Produce

When I was little, my mother would take me grocery shopping with her. I remember sitting in the cart as she pushed it through the store, and if she ever walked away a little too far for comfort because it was easier just to walk over and grab something than it was to push the whole cart over, I would start to get antsy. I still remember passing the bakery section of the supermarket, and if there were cookies out on the display case, she would get me one. I think subconsciously, I've had memories of that supermarket ingrained in my head because it has reappeared in my dreams and I can still remember the layout of the store almost to the tee. It's now a Home Depot. Bonus points to anyone who knows which supermarket I'm referring to. But now I digress.

I distinctly remember watching my mother pick produce at the grocery store. She'd pick up an apple, examine it, and either put it back down, or put it in the bag to purchase. I'd watch her do this for tomatoes, oranges, lettuce, and just about all the fruits and vegetables. In my mind, it was magical. My mother had the magical touch and knew exactly which ones to buy and which ones to put back. I wondered when I would develop this magical touch and be able to do the same.


Fast forward about 15 years to my junior/senior year of college. I was living in an apartment for the first time in my life, and I was doing my own grocery shopping. Sure, I'd driven to the grocery store before ever since I had gotten my driver's license, but that was to pick up the occasional teenage want: snacks, drinks, or one specific item. This was trying to meal prep for a week, shop on a budget, and be wise in my spending.

My roommate and I would go grocery shopping together since she didn't have a car and our schedules were similar enough that we could carve out this time on most Saturday mornings together. As I found myself pushing my own cart through the produce aisles of the grocery store, I ran through what I knew in my head: look at the produce, feel the produce, smell the produce, and make a decision. I carefully picked up and examined apples, oranges, broccoli, tomatoes, etc. Some I put in my bag to purchase. Some I placed back. But it felt different. I didn't feel the magical touch I saw in my mother as a young child. There was no magical touch. She simply looked at the produce, felt the produce, smelled the produce, and made a decision.

In my year living the apartment life in Austin, I bought some bad apples, I bought some vegetables with bugs in them, I threw out some rotten tomatoes, and life went on. I may not distinctly remember my mother throwing out any bad fruit or vegetables, but I can almost guarantee that she picked more than a few bad ones in her numerous grocery trips as well.

I feel the same way now about my daughter. Watching all my friends and other mothers who have children, they made it look so easy and effortless. Crying? Needs a diaper changed. Different cry? It's time to eat. How much milk should I make the bottle for? 4 ounces. How long should she sleep? She'll be awake in about 3 hours. It always seemed like they knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

Me? I feel like a complete mess right now. Crying? I think it's the diaper. Or maybe not. She's still crying. Darn, it wasn't the diaper. It's time to eat. How much milk should I make the bottle for? Let's try 2 ounces. Oh she wants more. Give her another ounce. Wait this time she didn't finish her 2 ounces. Why didn't she finish? How long should she sleep? I think I have about 3 hours. Why is she waking up after 1.5? She's supposed to be sleeping still!

Is this a cry? Or a yawn? 

Of course, I never spent a complete 24 hours with any of my friends and their babies, and I'm positive that only the cute pictures and sweet moments make it on social media. (Okay, some of the unglamorous truth might make it onto social media as well, but only if it elicits a laugh.) And it's only been 3 weeks so I should really cut myself some slack.

If it's one thing I know for sure, raising a baby is like picking produce: there's no magical touch. You simply look at her facial expression, feel for body temperature (and then actually use a thermometer), smell the diaper, and make a decision. And of course, the only thing being tossed out are foul-smelling diapers.