Archive for the ‘Cooking’ Category

Baby and mines fourth of July started off with me slicing up onions to make a breakfast omlette.  We have a new knife here, one that is supposed to be better than all the rest with titanium slicing power and a never dull blade.  It’s supposed to slice through pennies, rope, hearts.  It is the Rolls Royce of the knife world.  I used it on these pesky little onions that pack such a powerful aroma that I usually can’t get through a whole onion without breaking down in burning sulfur tears.  They’re beginning to rot, and I am determined not to waste them. I began to chop them in a furious haste, all the while entertaining baby and using my chef voice to tell him about the wonderful concoction we were cooking up. In my concentrated flurry of knife skills I, you guessed it, chopped halfway through my own thumb.  It made about the same crunch as cutting through the onion, but with a much different sensation.

A funny thing happens when you’re a mama and you get injured around your baby.  You make every attempt not to terrify baby, while inside you scream, “Holy F-bomb, that shiz hurt!!”.   I went, “Shookies, I cut myself!”, and then proceeded to turn away in an attempt to hide my bloody thumb from baby.  My dad ran to the rescue from the next room and hollered, “Stop shaking it!”, and then had me sit down; as I was trying to reassure concerned looking baby while making a drippy blood mess on the floor.  Don’t worry.  I was bandaged and back to new in no time.  I suspect this injury will only result in a wonky growing fingernail and nothing more severe.

At night we heard the fireworks.  Actually, baby daddy and I were discussing relationship things and old family pictures and the beautiful bbq at the beautiful friends house that we had both enjoyed, when the blast of fireworks woke the sleeping baby.  I thought I could lull him back to sleep with nursing and sweet lullabies, but as soon as his little eyes closed they popped back open.  He shot up and yelled out, “Mommy!” (which is, sadly but also sweetly what he now calls me, in lieu of “Mama”), and then “Pop Pops!!”.

We made a dash downstairs, grabbed daddy, grabbed stroller, and headed towards the commotion.  The fireworks burst out of the little houses that line our street.  There were screamers and fizzlers, and probably some of the illegal kind too, and they burst open in the sky and rained down colors on baby’s face and hair.  He was delighted.  He was delighted, until one was let off down the street much too close for comfort, and then he was terrified.

Baby clung to me for dear life as we ran down the street and back to home, all the while yelling, “Pop Pops!  Too scary!  Pop Pops!”.

The rest of the night was spent consoling a very scared and confused baby, who simultaneously would ask for “More pop pops?”, and then crying out “Pop Pops, so scary!”.  My poor little guy.

I hope you all had a beautiful and not too eventful fourth of July.

And, as for all the news buisness today, I only have to borrow some wise words from my cousin: “Our justice system has it’s problems but if I had to choose between a system that acquits for lack of proof or one that convicts for without I would choose the former.”

Focus on the beauty of life, and enjoy some Baby singing Baby.


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