The Perfect Summer Breakfast

If it's a Saturday in June and I've found a way to have rhubarb happily burbling away on my stove, I'm in heaven.

I know I've mentioned my love of what I call stewed rhubarb, what my kitcheny friend Kristina somewhat more romantically calls Rhubarb Compote, on these pages before. I really should add rhubarb compote to my lexicon. I mean, stewed rhubarb....yuck, I understand why those who haven't tried it would politely decline. But, to me, the tangy-sweet and sour, slightly salty, spread slathered over buttered rye toast evokes happy memories of my childhood summers and I find I can't get enough of it this time of year.

My grandparent's were raised gardeners. From the depression era gardens of their childhood in rural Pennsylvania, to their own patriotic Victory gardens at their WW II home in Baltimore, they knew the value of growing your own. That's one trait I didn't seem to pick up from them. I have no talent or desire for gardening and my rhubarb tends to come from the produce aisle. But that fact doesn't diminish the memory for me.

I grew up in the upstate NY home that my grandparents raised their children in, grew old and eventually died in. My early summer memories almost all involve the big garden they and my parents laid out every year. I recall running through rows of tall corn stalks, my feet bare on the hot, dry tilled earth. I remember digging up potatoes and carrots that went directly from the garden to the dinner table. I would eagerly check the watermelon patch to see if they were ready to enjoy. I seem to remember being "forced" into the manual labor of tediously weeding...though my mother laughs at that and assures me I didn't spend very much time at that chore. I fondly reminisce about playing around with the garden hose, spraying myself or my cousins more than the garden, and drinking thirstily from the little water fountain my grandfather attached every year to one of the spickets. And I remember my grandfather, dripping sweat under the big straw hat and kerchief he always donned in the garden, pulling ripe rhubarb stalks, bringing them in the kitchen for a quick wash, sprinkling salt and crunching contentedly on his fine work. As I child I found, and still find honestly, rare rhubarb a little too sour and stringy for me. But when my grandmother would take that fresh rhubarb and stew it down with a little water, a little lemon juice and salt, and a whole lot of sugar...well then. Then it was heaven. The key, too, comes with the rye toast. The hint of bitter, the silky touch of butter added to the tang of the rhubarb....YUM.

I'm Feelin' Beachy Keen!

Ok. I'm sorry for that horrible pun. It couldn't be helped. You see, I think my brain is still sitting on that beach, all sandy and a little fried...possibly a little wine soaked (shhh, don't tell anybody.)

We're home. It's good to be home. The house, for the record, was not a bachelor disaster when I returned last night. I attribute that to publically harrassing my husband about it on this site prior to leaving. I slept peacefully in my own bed without kicky little legs poking me in the back. Giuliana is happily playing with her long lost toys while I sit here, sipping coffee and posting. Yes, home is good. The weather, however, leaves a whole lot to be desired. Rain, fog, gray, ick. I'm longing for the S-U-N I left behind in Delaware. I googled their weather for today and though it's 85* (not 69* like here) it's just as gray and rainy there. I suppose that helps.

A few stories:

John and left town early Friday morning after dropping Giuliana off at her Aunt Gina's house. She rode with them to the shore. John and I had to make a detour to New York City so he could attend another doctor's appointment. It made for a long day. We made excellent time getting down to the city and had a couple of hours to kill, so we walked around and had a nice lunch at a deli. His appointment went well however the doctor was running 2 hours behind, so it was close to 3pm when we got out of there. He's a chatty guy and we told him we needed to get on the road so we could get to the beach. We got talking about the best ways to get out of the city, should we take the Lincoln Tunnel or the GW bridge. As I twittered about, this guy gave us his "secret directions" to the bridge, after both making us swear that we would use them and also that we wouldn't tell anyone else what they were. So, I'm sworn to secrecy, folks, sorry, but after a leisurely trip through Central Park and Harlem we arrived at the George Washington Bridge in about 20 minutes, a record time. We avoided at least an hour of sitting in traffic. Word, Dr. Weinburg.

John's dad arrived on Monday for a few days at the beach. He gets a little manic on occasion. He had decided that he wanted to bring all the seafood for our annual seafood feast. Awesome. So, he decided to go to the New Fulton's Fish Market in the Bronx so he could get the best deal. That required him to leave Binghamton at 1am, because you have to be at the fish market REALLY early to get the good stuff. So that's what he did. He arrived in Delaware at 10 am with a trunk load of seafood. Behold.


This, for those of you who were wondering, is what an entire BUSHEL of blue crab looks like. When John's dad gets an idea in his head, he sometimes tends to go overboard...but no one was complaining! Oh, and that box, is full of lobster.

Feisty suckers trying to escape their fate.

This is the fall out from lunch. All of those pots are filled with crab....lots and lots of crab...


And this is dinner. That's right. Lobster, crab, mussels, clams, shrimp scampi...John's family knows how to do it up RIGHT!! This is, by far, the most seafood I have ever eaten in an entire year, let alone one day! And we had left over crabs the next day, and mussels and clams the next three nights.


So, John had to leave on Tuesday. Which sucked. What also sucked was later that day, when I was talking to him on my cell phone at the beach. G wanted to say "hi" to daddy and we tussled a little bit over the phone, which, predictably, ended up in the bucket of water right next to her. Yeah. Salt water does funky things to an LG EnV2, let me just give you that heads up. It still doesn't work. But I visited Verizon today and they are sending me a brand new phone. So, que sera, sera, I guess.

Yesterday it was time to leave and G and I drove home by ourselves. Everyone else was in separete cars and they were making stops I wasn't planning on making, so we were on our own. I was a little bit nervous driving 6 hours with a toddler. Alone. But G, she was awesome. I should have known. She's such a good girl. She mostly played quietly in the back, took a long nap, sang some songs with me. There were a few moments of tears and whining and a few screams, but mostly, she dealt with it all in stride. The highlight, for me, though, was our lunch stop. I hadn't thought out the whole rest stop issue real well. See, it was PACKED. And I had to take in a diaper bag and my purse and carry a toddler on my hip and navigate the disgustingly dirty rest room scenerio without allowing G to catch typhoid and get her diaper changed on the dinky changing table and throw out the diaper across the room without her falling off, and then pack it all up and go order food in the insane line at the counter and then carry my tray, in one hand, with child on opposite hip and all those bags slung over my shoulder, get a drink from the soda fountain, and find an open table which happened to be on the other side of the place. It was fun.

Anyway, on to the main event, the pictures:

G and Daddy on the way to the beach.

G relaxing with Nana at the beach house.


Pre-dinner sand play.



This was a VERY good idea. My mom has an old sled from when I was a kid. She fills it with water and lets G splash in it at her house. I borrowed it and brought it to the beach. It worked great for playing in the sand, and as a bonus, it worked even better for carting stuff to and from the beach...just pile everything on it and drag it across the sand! This is G and Dante (her cousin).



My sister-in-law Gina and her two girls, Alana and Sophia. Alana did not want to participate in this picture, can you tell?

Getting packed up to go home, all crispy and tan!

The first thing G said to me when she woke up yesterday morning was "Home, Mama?" I said, "Yes, that's right, we're going home today, did you remember that?" And she said, "Yeah, Hiiiiiiiiiiiii, Dada!"

That's right, baby, home and Daddy. It's good to be home. As I'm writing this, the sun has poked out. Time to go outside and play and enjoy the rest of summer while it lasts.

A Quick Question and then I'm Gone!

(picture stolen from Resortquest Flickr Stream)

Leaving town in 24 hours to go here and here (picture stolen from mmahaffie on flickr)!!! I can. not. tell you how desperately in need of a vacation my family is. John and I haven't been on vacation since I was pregnant with Giuliana, two years ago. That may not sound like too bad, but in the span of that time we have had a baby (3 days in the hospital, c-section...), John has been hospitalized three times (for loooooong stretches) and also had three surgeries, we have made 6 trips back and forth to NYC for doctors appointments, along with the other 47(ish) doctors he sees between here and Syracuse. I'm ready for a little beach therapy.

First, though, John and I have to make yet another trip to NYC to see the pain doctor. That's Friday. Binghamton to NYC to Bethany Beach. Gag! The trip from NYC to Delaware, people, is straight through New Jersey. Oh, what a wonderful trip that will be. But! The payoff is arriving at the beach house Friday night to join our daughter and family* for a week of soaking in the sun and sand! (Well...for me anyway. Poor John has to travel back home on Tuesday so he can work the rest of the week! Boo!)

My plans for the next six days involve nothing more than laying on a towel reading a book, listening to my Ipod, dipping myself in the ocean when I get too hot, making sand castles with my daughter, eating lots of fresh seafood, bonding with said baby girl, and not much else. Well, maybe a drink or two after she's in bed.

Before I go, though, I hope to spend a few minutes on Itunes, updating my beach playlist. But I need your help! As I've previously stated, I'm generally clueless when it comes to most music. Completely out of touch. (The most recent cd I purchased was Michael Jackson circa 1993...) So, what do you recommend for some summer driving and lots of time sitting on the beach?? Really. Honestly. I need your help. Thanks!

Enjoy yourselves while I'm gone! Miss you! XOXO

* A HUGE! "Thank You!" to my wonderful and generous mother-in-law who hosts this family trip every year!! You are Awesome, Pat!

Little Smearey Fingerprints Decorate My Monitor and other ramblings

If you are looking for a nice, concise post that makes a whole lot of sense let me advise you to move on. This ain't it.

I feel like poo today. I'm not really sure why. I woke up at 3am with a rumbling tummy (never good) and have not felt right since. I dragged myself to work at 7:30am but only stayed till 10:30, feeling tired, achy, sicki-poo icky. I just got up from a two hour nap and ate exactly 5 triscuits with cheese, and they are not feeling so much like they will be staying long. Boo, me.

However. Wow! What a weekend! I don't you about you folks, but we had us some hot, humid SUMMER around here! We are continuing to have summer, actually...all week, they say! Bah. I'll believe it when I've sweat five of these pounds off my tushie. But Saturday! and Sunday! were pool weather, and that's exactly what we did. Giuliana was not too much a fan of the pool on Saturday, preferring just to get her toes wet while I sang like a maniac (more on my mania in a minute) trying to get her to giggle and just go with it. I gave up and she ran around the yard happily playing in the little water table. Eh. Ok, whatever. Sunday I sort of did the evil Mommy thing and forced her off her little warm raft and into the water. She screamed. I sang. It didn't work. So I put her on her father's shoulders and lo! Like magic, she was giggling. Daddy bounced up and down, splashing her farther and farther in, and she shrieked and yelped in shear delight! She went in up to her neck! When John got tired I took her (more screaming at me, what up, G?) and again forced her against her little will into a little boat floatie thing. Which she promptly decided was the coolest thing ever. This girl just does not trust me, I swear. I tell her "you'll like it, I promise." She yells at me. I kinda make her try it. She loves it. We repeat this dance several times a week. Ah, motherhood.

We also had an impromptu bbq with these lovely friends, and the equally lovely but internet shy L.D. There was marinated chicken, watermelon, drinks in the back yard, short skirts and tank tops! This is what I've been waiting three long months for! August, you rock!

But people! Are you still with me? (Snap, snap!! Wake up, I've gotten to some news!) Another happening took place over the weekend. The bottles. They are gone. It was actually quite painless. I had been planning on transitioning G over our upcoming vacation. My plan was just to not take any bottles with us. I figured we would be off our routine anyway, she's been drinking milk from her sippy cups happily for a long time now, she could just deal with it and then when we got home, ta da! no more bottles. I was advised by more than one experienced mother that though this sounded like a perfectly reasonable plan that it would actually result in turning our vacation into one of the seven circles of hell and would damage G's little psyche in many bad ways and make her hate the beach forevermore. Not exactly what I was hoping for. So, instead I have been giving G milk in a sippy cup at naptime and bedtime for about a week. And guess what? She doesn't care. Hmmm. I was expecting wailing and gnashing of little dirty teeth (see above, the part about how my daughter doesn't trust me much.) But other than a few weak protests for her "ba-ba" the first night...nothing. My mother, who watches G all day and puts her down for a nap every one of those days (I stress that, because, I, Giuliana's mother, am successful in getting her down for a nap about one of every 15 days) was doubtful when I instructed her to switch to a sippy cup. She was actually a little scornful, asking if I planned on bringing G back from vacation potty trained too. Haha, mother. Funny. But even she was amazed at the lack of drama produced by our little progeny. So there, mother. Thhhhhpppp! So, vacation, it will be bottle free after all! I washed all the bottles and am in the process of packing them away along with all the breast pumping equipment (don't ask why this hasn't been packed for a year and a half, ok...don't ask) until they are needed sometime in the future by some other not-real-yet baby. Bittersweet? Yes. But I bought some really cute new sippies that I can't wait to show G. So, we'll keep moving forward.

And about vacation (you didn't think I was done rambling yet, did you...I still have to tell you about my mania. Oh, I didn't forget.) Things will be a little skimpy here for the next couple of weeks as we are headed to the beach! Hooray! We weren't able to go last year because we spent our summer vacationing in the hospital. Let me just state for the record that the beach? It's a better vacation. Trust me. I know the hospital sounds all glamorous and exciting, but after day 14, it gets a little old. So, this year, we are going with John's family to the beach! I am one of those insanely maniacal people (no, this is not redundant, trust me) who are compulsed to clean their house before going away. I mean really clean. My mom will be staying here while we're gone to watch the dog...I'm sure that has nothing to do with my OCD. However, John has to come home a few days early because he doesn't have as much vacation time saved as I do (he spent it on three months of disability...) so I had promised myself that, seeing as the house would be a bachelor pad for three days, I would not go crazy cleaning it. Oh. Right. Sensible me, you just don't get it, do you? I have a list prepared of the "few" things I felt needed to get done. Laundry. Change sheets. Clean bathtub. Vacuum. Clean out my car. Check, check, check, and check. However, I also reorganized my hall closet, scrubbed the side of the house, washed the outdoor toys and cleaned my kitchen. Yesterday. Before the pool. All of that, if I'm being honest, and really, why the hell not, was procrastination. It's the cleaning the tub, you see. I hate it. So, yeah, I hosed off and scrubbed my siding instead. What? Don't look at me like that. I really hate it. But I did clean the tub yesterday, too. I just like to get shit done while I procrastinate. But I still have a few things on that list. And all good lists must be completed. I know there are people out there who are nodding in agreement. I know it. You can't just leave the list half done. No way. That would be insane.

And, as a bonus for making it this far, I thought I would share a cute G observation with you. G is enamored with Sesame Street these days. She loves "Ehmo." Can't get enough. We watch it constantly. There are hourly cries of "Suhddy Day! Suhddy Day" around here. (That's "Sunny Days, " the opening lines, for those of you not schooled in toddler-speak.) So anyway. John was watching it with her Saturday morning when suddenly G pointed excitedly at the screen and yelled "Dada! Dada!" This is what she was talking about:

Hmmm. I don't know, G, I just don't see it.

Caio for now, peeps!

Phishing Trip

John and I left Giuliana with her grandparents and headed out to Darien Lake last night. It was a 3 1/2 hour drive there, a 5 hour drive home (4am, you are not my friend) but it was so worth it.

We made the trip to see Phish. This was my first time seeing them in concert. John has been to several in his younger (hippie) days. They were every bit as awesome as all the hype. Even 15 years later. Unbelievable, really. I did the "hippie dance of freedom" as my sister-in-law likes to mock it, and enjoyed myself immensely. I am feeling rather old today, in that apparently 4am-9am does not equal enough sleep for me to function properly at 33 years old. Thhhhpppppp! I will not age gracefully!

However, in my old age, I do have a quick comment to make about one particular observation I made last night. It is this: I love music. I want my daughter to grow up loving music, and so far she seems like she is on that path. I love seeing little girls dance around in circles, enjoying fantastic live music. But I DO NOT think that a Phish concert is an entirely appropriate "atmosphere" for young children, if you get my drift. Right next to us last night were 3 young girls, ages roughly 3-7, and one INFANT (couldn't have been more than 3 months old) with their parents. The girls had a fabulous time dancing and playing. But the air...it was not clean. I was all sorts of uncomfortable about this. I do not fancy myself very judgmental of other parents, but this type of concert is just not a good environment for kids. What were they thinking? There, I've said my piece.

Anyway. Some pics. I did not include the unbelievable gridlock that had us sitting in a literally unmoving car until 1:30am. I don't want to remember that part.

"Discover"ing Our Community

One of the best kid sites in our community is The Discovery Center. It's located on the grounds of our local zoo. We went to the zoo a few weeks ago but avoided the Discovery Center because my mom had promised my sister-in-law that we would all go together when they came to visit. So, we all (minus John, again! He had to work...) trooped up there on Tuesday and had a blast!! It was G's first time, but somehow she had premonitions that it would be fantastic, because the moment I got her out of the car she wanted to RUN! to that big, flowery cow out front. (The cow used to be a steer and it was located on the top of a famous local restaurant, The Vestal Steakhouse, which is sadly closed now. It was a local landmark.)

One of the very many neat things about the DC is that it is a mini-version of our community. Each center has been donated by a local business and is representative of things kids see everyday in their neighborhood. It's like a history lesson on Broome County rolled up with a whole lot of fun and discovery. The DC has been around since I was a kid. I remember going (it was located at a different site then) with my grandma and being wowed by the bubble machines, the airplane, the cafe. It was such a treat to share it with my daughter.

Another cool aspect of the DC (this is my professional self talking, I work with kids with developmental disabilities and sensory issues) is that it's a great opportunity for kids to explore in a hands-on way everyday places and activities that they might be frightened of. Many kids, disabled or not, would be terrified of a loud, screeching firetruck, or a fireman who is in full gear (and looks a bit like an alien) barging into their bedroom trying to save them. But if they have had the opportunity to climb all over a real fire truck, work the siren, don the hat and jacket and see the other equipment their fears might be reduced. I love that we have a place in our community where kids can do that. They can also play in the grocery store, the bank, climb in a boat, ride all sorts of bikes, fly an airplane...well, see for yourself:

Payton and Kristin in the multi-level tunnel/maze.

Giuliana and Brayden destroying one of the grocery aisles while my mother and father stand by and watch! Thanks. You KNOW the next time I take G to the grocery store she is going to want to climb out of the cart and pull everything off the shelves!

Brayden and Payton scooping icecream.

My dad helping G on her first tricycle ride.

G flies a real airplane...

and drives a real fire trunk!

Exploring the camping exhibit. She loved the tent!

Giuliana, Brayden and Payton learn about archeology from Kristin.

G colors a picture for Daddy who wasn't able to come :(

We left the Discovery Center to walk down the hill into the zoo to ride the carousel. Our community has been graced with 6 historic, wooden, hand-carved carousels. There is one at the zoo and five more scattered through-out the county at local parks. There is one at the park a block from our house. They were donated by George F. Johnson, of the Endicott-Johnson Shoe Company, between 1919 and 1934. They are all free to ride with the donation (to the garbage can located outside the gate) of one piece of litter. They will always be free to ride, that is part of the legacy. George F. wanted the kids of his employees (which was most of the community at that time) to have places to play and have amusement at no cost because he felt it "contributed to a happy life and would help youngsters grow into strong and useful citizens." I am grateful that my daughter gets to grow up in a community that takes pride in this heritage and that she will be able to enjoy the same carousels that I enjoyed as a kid. My brother's kids will look forward to visiting NY in the summer for the chance to ride the carousels, too, I'm sure. If Tuesday was any indication, anyway. They loved it. Sorry no pictures, I was having too much fun spinning around and around to snap any!

Sunday and Monday

We had the actual family reunion on Sunday. It was a great turn-out. My family isn't very well known for everyone turning up, but this time seemed to be the exception. Kristin's family was also in attendance, and I'd say the two family got along swimmingly (does anyone actually know what that expression means? I don't.)

The clans mingling.

Fast friends already.

G and my cousin, Sarah.

G showing off her ball skills.

Payton was impressed. She caught on quickly.

My cousin's daughter, Addison, and Payton. Despite that stick Addison's wielding, no one got hurt.

On Monday G and I went to Otisco Lake (the "thumb" of the Finger Lakes) with my brother's family. When they lived in NY, Andy and Kristin had a boat that they kept on this lake. It was my first time up there with them. We had a gorgeous day. We sat in the sun, played with gravel, ate, and went on a boat ride. Just about perfect. Except John was stuck at work. :(

The view from the campground.

Cute Kristin and Payton lounging on the sun-deck.

G playing peek-a-boo with Aunt Kristin...

and Payton!

Those cute girls bonding again.

G and Momma.

All ready to go on the boat. We sang a few verses of "rorororo" in anticipation.

I still can't get over seeing my brother as a father. Showing his son the lake.

What a view! I love NY!

"Giuliana No-Nap" 3 days in, passed out in my arms on the boat. Finally, a nap. What a peaceful afternoon.