Recipes for Success

I had a pretty productive weekend. My wife and I ran a bunch of errands all day Saturday and then tackled the nursery. After cleaning it out and repainting what feels like forever ago, we’d only really turned the guest room into the baby junk room. But after Sunday, it’s 100% full on nursery time. I mean a baby could conceivably live there!

It went from this:

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To this:

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It only took all afternoon but it’s finished. It’s now a place where we can’t stop ourselves from peeking in the doorway as we walk by. Sunday evening, we spent an hour and a half just hanging out in there and soaking it all in. The dog joined us too which was probably good for her. She’s totally going to have first baby syndrome. I’ve tried explaining to her that just because we’re have two more babies doesn’t mean that I love her any less. In response, she usually rolls over and lifts her leg for a belly rub. I’m not sure she gets it.

There are still a few more things that need to go in there, but it’s basically done for the most part. Cross that item off the list and move down to the next hundred or more so to go.

We’re taking an all day baby class on Saturday at the hospital to brief us on what to expect during the birthing process. We could have gone for the three hours a week for three weeks version, but we didn’t have the time. Instead, it now feels like we’re cramming to have a baby. Hey, worked for all my tests, right?

As you can imagine, we’ve been thinking a lot about the future. How to be good people, how to be good parents, how to raise good kids, that kind of thing. Something always on the forefront of our minds is nutrition. I think it’s safe to say that my wife and I foodies. Well, maybe foodie-adjacent. We both love to cook and get really excited at a good farmer’s market, but if you come at me with crickets sauteed in peanut sauce on a brioche bun, my first impulse won’t be to immediately put it in my mouth. But I’d definitely think about it.

Anyway, we’re usually trying to eat better. Ever since we were serious about getting pregnant, we’ve switched to a lot of organic products. That’s not always affordable, so we do our best. But basically if we can get away with organic, we’re gonna do it. I bring all of this up, because we were already sort of against processed food but after watching Fed Up over the weekend, I’m convinced that processed food is the fucking devil. It lures you in with whispered words dripping with sugar (yes that’s a pun), but they’re all LIES!

If you haven’t seen the movie, I urge you to do so. I’ve never thought of myself as an activist, but this shit is seriously messed up. The stuff we put in our bodies in the name of food is absolutely atrocious. What’s worse though, and what makes me the sickest isn’t what the government is or is not doing, but just how powerful the almighty dollar really is. Time and again, the documentary shows when someone tried to step up and do the right thing, but ultimately the companies making us fatter and sicker are the ones who control the purse strings and strong arm these people into submission. It’s kind of horrible.

The film clearly has an agenda but I think it does a good job explaining its view point rather than just demonizing the food industry as a whole. It certainly doesn’t paint them in a favorable light, but there is actual fact, reason and scientific evidence backing up many of the filmmaker’s claims.

So now my wife and I talk about how we can make sure our kids are eating properly and how to show them vegetables are their friends. I mean if more people are going to die from food-related illnesses than from malnutrition for the first time in human history I’m pretty sure something isn’t running the way it’s supposed to. Food is what keeps us going. It shouldn’t be killing us.

That said, the writer in me is already filing this away for a killer story down the road. That wasn’t meant to be a pun, but what the hell, I’m gonna roll with it.

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Balloons and Babies

We celebrated my birthday over the weekend. Thirty-one. We made a big deal of it last year as I was officially thirty, but now I’m officially in my thirties. This whole age thing has always felt skewed for me. I know people always say age is just a number and you’re only as old as you feel. What gets me is that I meet other people who are around thirty and I’m like, “Yeah, that dude is totally thirty. Makes sense to me.” But then I look in the mirror and I don’t think that I look even remotely like Mr. Otherguy Thirty. I definitely don’t look like I’m twenty. I look, I don’t know, Dan-age, I guess.

Aside from some philosophical quandaries, my birthday also  meant an excuse to eat some delicious food I’d otherwise wouldn’t have much of an excuse for. White chocolate and peanut butter chip cookies! Who said that chocolate-chocolate and peanut butter are married?  The big day also gave us a reason to go out for a meal too. It’s not that we don’t typically eat out, but Rachel and I pride ourselves on our cooking and with future beings to save for, the discussion of whether or not we should go to a restaurant usually boils down to: Can we make food of similar or even better quality ourselves and is the price point worth getting out of the house for? We stay in quite a bit.

We’re also pretty good cooks.

Last weekend I discovered the joy of seared ahi tuna. And Rachel proved once again that she is the Birthday Queen.

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We like Up. A lot.

Our Hawaii plans have been put on hold indefinitely as there are new critters to care for, but not only did I receive some great sentimental gifts from my wife, but a promise of adventures yet to come. See what I mean? We really like that movie.

She came down with a cold and Easter plans were also put on hold this weekend. That left me with a lot of time indoors and time on my hands, so I put it to good use and worked on the future nursery. We had to get rid of the guest room, but we didn’t have that many guests anyway. Two babies means two of everything, except for rooms as we try and save space.

Here’s me working while under the supervision of their older sister.

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Even with cramming two cribs in there, the room is going to be pretty small, but it took me a solid 5+ hours to prime and paint the darned thing. There’s still a second coat to go, but I’m a little painted out. On top of that, I’m still doing the jobs of two people at work, ran four miles before even going into work this morning, and I may or may not be coming down with what Rachel’s picked up. So we’ll see how motivated I feel tonight.