Carnivore

The Engineer loves meat. A well-cooked steak transports him into realms of ecstasy. If I made Angie & Elvis' incredible meatloaf once a week, I think that alone would ensure we'd have a long marriage. Add mashed potatoes, and it would doubtless be a long and happy marriage.

I...well, I like meat. But I also appreciate beans and lentils and quinoa. I think I could be a fairly happy vegetarian--not a vegan, as I'm far too fond of dairy. But a vegetarian? Sure, I might miss steak and chicken at times, but I could swing it.

So sometimes I risk The Engineer's skepticism and make exciting, meatless meals. Recently I found a great-looking recipe for lentil soup. I started making it, then realized my bag of lentils was almost empty, so I created my own recipe, adding two or three kinds of beans, along with barley and other wholesome ingredients. When I added a spoonful of sour cream to my bowl, it was pretty good. It made a ton, so I froze a bag of it.

A few days ago, I put the frozen soup in the fridge to thaw it. I'm not sure what I was thinking, but when I was about to go to dinner with Hillary and her family, I pulled out the soup and sour cream and told the Engineer, "You can have this for dinner."

Now, I don't recall putting frog eyes or dried spiders in that soup. The expression on The Engineer's face said otherwise.

"Or," I said, "there are chicken tenders in the freezer."

So the hearty, homemade soup went back in the fridge, and the processed, breaded chicken went in the oven.

Now, I'd better add ground beef to my grocery list--it's been a couple of weeks since I made meatloaf.

Chickie's big night

Tonight Chickie got two new toys--Lofty and Benny (from Bob the Builder.) Plus we went to the store to pick out candy of her choice (a plastic car full of what was labeled as candy but ended up being gum.)

I don't know if the ever-escalating bribery had anything to do with it, but I was very happy to fulfill my toy and candy promises when...

...Chickie pooped in the potty for the very first time.

Something so putrid never smelled so sweet.

Dad the parent

When Chickie was little, a friend told us adamantly, "Dads are not babysitters when they take care of children! They are parents!" I fully agree--and yet I appreciate how hard it can be for a dad who's been working all day to come home to extra kid duty so that Mom can spend time with friends.

The Engineer is working toward a fast-approaching deadline at work. It's stressful. When he got home last night I hurriedly gave him instructions and updates on dinner, Chickie's poop possibilities, Zoodle's fever, and bedtimes, then rushed out. Fellow blogger Hillary is in town with her husband and son, and we wanted to meet in person. When the kids got sick, our plans changed--from them coming to our house, to me meeting them for dinner.

Of course, that means the childcare fell to The Engineer. And what an evening for childcare. Zoodle's fever changed him from a mellow baby into an angry baby; when The Engineer called me with a medication question, I could hear Zoodle's screams in the background. Chickie's feeling fine now but suffering the effects of two nights of choppy sick kid sleep, and when I got home, The Engineer was putting her to bed...again.

Thanks, my dear Engineer, for being the type of parent who gives me a break when I need it, even when you really needed a break too.

(And, Hillary, it was great to meet you guys!)