My Chinese-American husband is a fantastic cook. Andy can make any cuisine, from pulled pork barbecue to agedashi tofu.
His eggs Benedict are sublime. Pretty sure I joined Instagram just to make people envious over of his beef Wellington.
I am content to give Andy the cooking crown in our household. I focus on baking, which is my strength.
I stay in my lane.
Andy is NOT staying in his lane. Continue reading Burned (#291)
Baby D walked when he was 10 months old—for 3 steps. Then he ran everywhere.
“Soccer,” I yelled to Andy as I chased Baby D around the yard with a cheese stick. “As soon as he’s old enough, he’s playing soccer. Maybe that will wear him out.”
Andy yelled back, “But, honey, he doesn’t care about balls.”
This was true. Baby D did not care about sports.
Baby D only liked imaginary games. Continue reading When It Ain’t At All About the Ball (#290)
There’s a common phrase about parenting: “The days are long, the years are short.”
The days ARE long when you have a baby. Especially when you have a baby that only takes a half-hour nap. And when you have a non-napping child and no handy relatives to help?
A day feels equal to a year.
A day feels like a century. Continue reading When the Days Are Long, Again (#289)
