BECOMING AUNTIE

May 12, 2012. 5 pounds, 11 ounces. 19 inches long. 10 fingers. 10 toes. Practically perfect in every way. Like Mary Poppins. But an infant. And no British accent. And less...witchy. Nadia Grace May has arrived. My sister, Jill, has delivered her first baby and I am...AUNTIE.

Unkie Dan with Nora and Pats
Summer 2011

My mom is an only child. My dad has ONE brother who's 12 years his junior. That brother has ONE 22 year old daughter. I have an older half sister 16 years MY senior. She has ONE 19 year old daughter. So, technically, I have one niece who feels more like a cousin and one cousin who feels more like a friend. I'm so super hip I'm friends with 22 year olds. Jealous? My one uncle, one aunt, one niece and one cousin are absolutely fabulous and obviously I love them dearly. But, I've never been a part of a big family where cousins would run around together at every holiday and were raised like brothers and sisters. I never had a ton of aunts to confide in and a ton of uncles to...get tickle tortured by? I don't know. What do uncles do? My mom and my husband grew up in families like this. It's so foreign to me. Like sleep away summer camp. You either get it or you don't. I've never really gotten it. And then, our eyes met. Nadia to Auntie Jenny. Widow's Peak to Widow's Peak (she has my hairline!)Taurus to Capricorn. Chica to chica. And someday, woman to woman... And, now I get it. 

In the blink of an eye, the stakes are a million times higher.  We're like a real deal FAMILY now. Pats and Nora have instantly gained a best friend for life. I feel like the decisions I make for my girls now somehow will impact another child that didn't come from me, and I feel this immense pressure and responsibility and excitement about that. Everything has changed. Even who my single brother- in- law dates instantly carries serious weight. An annoying voice or a passion for quinoa can't be taken lightly anymore. She's gonna be my kid's AUNT. Like I am Nadia's aunt. Like Jill's husband, Dan, is uncle to Nora and Pats. Ah, Dan...

Dan has always been family. Always. He's personally seen me through good times and very bad with respect and unconditional support. He's sat through 743 MILLION Nutcracker performances of Jill's. He's cheered her on and supported  her through 3 college major changes and eventually proudly watched her become a doctor. He's held her hand through every dark time: from a pair of jeans not fitting to the loss of her best friend. He's not LESS of an uncle to Nora and Pats because he's simply my sister's husband. I've never ever felt that way. But this weekend, platelets shifted and it became ROCK SOLID. Baby Nadia set it in stone. We now share BLOOD. She has made it real. I look into her barely open eyes and I not only see my beautiful niece. I see my sister, I see my dad, I see Pats. And, I see an engineering major from the University of Florida who went from a nice guy my sister was dating to hands down one of the closest, most important men to ME. Its official. Its forever. I feel silently bonded to Uncle Dan for life. 

A shot of me holding baby Jill.
This baby has a BABY. Crazy.

Jeremy and I had one kid in the midst of all our close friends having one kid. We felt like "Whoa. We're totally grown ups." But not really. Just one little baby didn't throw us that far. We totally could still carry her car seat into our favorite restaurant and enjoy a quick but nice meal while she snoozed. We still felt normal. Then our second came along. A little more tied down perhaps, but I mean, we still schleped across the country 3 weeks post pardom. Going where the gig was. Doing what we needed to do. Making it happen. But suddenly, that  feels...over. A not-even-6-pound baby girl just changed the game entirely. COUSINS. These girls WILL grow up together. Nadia WILL know me. My success is hers. Her joy is my light. I cannot properly describe the unique love I have for this child. Maybe it's too sacred to articulate. So different from my feelings toward my own girls, yet equally intense. I feel this overwhelming pride and responsibility to emotionally protect her. And my sister. My LITTLE sister? Wasn't she 14 yesterday? I mean, I watched her graduate and graduate and marry and graduate. But now it's really real. We're moms. WE'RE MOMS! Finally I get to share this amazing journey with her. I didn't realize how much I longed for this bond until it just happened... Nadia's birth just may have become the most significant moment in my life. I am overflowing with love thinking of these girls growing up together. And the thought of Nora experiencing this feeling when Patsy has her first baby and/or vice versa...it's quite possibly the most amazing feeling I've ever had. But we have a long way to go for that, I know. Let's conquer Nora giving up the boobies and wiping her own ass first. Oy. A long way to go, indeed.

CHOCOLATE CUPCAKES

Jill loves chocolate. My 19 year old niece, Ellen, can't have dairy. So, keeping it "all in the family" here is the best chocolate cupcake I have ever had. And ready folks? It's VEGAN! Wha, Whaaaa? I know. But it's true. No dairy. No eggs. No critters of any kind! Just delicious, delicious chocolately happiness!

Cake:

1 1/4 c all purpose flour

1 c sugar

1/3 c unsweetened cocoa powder

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 c warm water

1 tsp vanilla 

1/3 c oil

1 tsp vinegar (every time I've made these I've used red wine vinegar cause that's all I had! I'm sure white or apple cider vinegar would be fine)

This is SO easy. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. I don't even use separate bowls of sift anything. Just mix it all together in a big bowl until well blended. I literally use a big spoon, don't even bother getting the mixer out yet. (You'll need it for the frosting.) Either pour into a 9 inch square pan for cake OR 12 paper-lined cupcakes. 

Cake: 30 minutes

Cupcakes: 18 minutes

Frosting:

1/2 c Crisco Vegetable shortening

1/2 c unsweetened cocoa powder

1 1/2 c powdered sugar

1/4 c water

1 tsp vanilla

A slice and a shot. Of Unsweetened Soy Milk.
Who have I become?

I said its vegan. I never said HEALTHY! But awesome never the less. Just beat with an electric mixer until all the ingredients come together and it looks like...frosting! Wait till cake is cooled completely. Frost and enjoy! Decorate as you please. If you have a bit left over, store in a small tupperware and pop in the fridge. I promise I won't judge you if you dip pretzels in it alone in the kitchen while your kids are plopped in front of  "A Bug's Life" - the third time through- on a rainy day. I mean, I would never do anything like that...but you live your life. I  would go straight in with the spoon. Or more likely, my fingers. But ya know...Do watcha gotta do, girl. 

HOW TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT WITHOUT LOSING YOURSELF

12 years ago a lifelong friendship ended due to a ridiculous situation surrounding an event that is now null and void. At the time it seemed like, and in fairness WAS, the biggest deal ever. My friend was engaged to be married and wanted me, as a bridesmaid, to cover my tattoos for the ceremony. Ok. Sure. No problem, I guess. Just wear a pashmina or whatever. No biggie. No. She said a wrap or shawl wouldn't match everyone else and would mess up the pictures. Okaaaaay. So, what do you want me to do? She wanted me to cover them with make up. Huh? You want me in full body make up? At the [non televised] most important day of your life? Within inches of your WEDDING DRESS? Your thousands and thousands of dollars wedding dress? Seriously? Have you been sniffing glue? And why do I REALLY have to cover them? You're EMBARRASSED of me? Im not good enough for your in-laws? WTF? We'd been friends since birth. If you can't accept me for who I am, go scratch. I'm not being in your stupid wedding then. Oh, and PS: don't send your lame ass fiancee into my work giving me ultimatums. Oh, and PPS: He's a loser. And a liar. (Exhale.) And we haven't spoke since. Not true, we ran into each other almost 2 years ago in our hometown. Shed a few tears, chatted a bit. She got to see Nora. I thought maybe we'd get back in touch. But it just never really happened. So sad. Well, it makes me sad. Just stupid, really. And all because I wouldn't change. For just ONE DAY. I wouldn't change something that I thought made me, well, "ME."

Why was I convinced at the time that my tattoos had anything to do with who I really was? And why was I SO offended that my friend wanted to hide them. I wasn't BORN with them. They're not REALLY a part of me. I PUT them there. I made that choice. Hair lip? Lazy eye? I mean, yeah. If that was the case and she thought something like that would ruin her precious wedding pix...total bitch. But what was the big deal? I should've just covered them. I don't live my life with regret. I don't see the point. But if I did, that would be a big one. Oh, and in case you're curious which I know you are, Mr. Hotshot Fiancée did turn out to be a loser. And a liar. And they were divorced faster than you can say "Tattooed floosey." 

It's just crazy the things we think DEFINE us as human beings. Nothing defines me as a person aside from the way I conduct my self on a daily basis. And how I react to things in the moment. Good and bad. My tattoos don't define me. Not my hair. Not my height. Not my career. Even motherhood. It's a part of my life, obviously a HUGE part, but it's not WHO I am. People always talk about looking out for number 1. Not changing for anyone. Be true to yourself. But that's a little silly. And a little selfish. How could I be a mother and FULLY stay "myself," never changing. I'd be raiding the sale rack at Loehmann's everyday, and having long lazy lunches with friends before disco napping and then hanging with Jeremy after his show drinking infused vodka and getting into fights in cabs every night. I sure as Hell wouldn't be on my hands and knees cleaning up brown rice off the floor while "Ratatouille" blares in the background for the hundredth time. (I've found as far as rice clean up goes, my natural procrastination prevails. If you can wait awhile and let it dry up a little bit its cuts the chore in half. Just a little tip) Anyhoo. I mean, you HAVE to change for other people at some point, right? It's not NOT being true to yourself, it's called growing up. And who says you are who you have yourself all figured and are complete and whole when you're 23? Or 37? Or 80? Shouldn't we keep evolving and growing and learning and CHANGING?? We make sacrifices for people. It's called LOVE. We put others needs and interests first in some cases. It's called... POLITENESS. 

The "I'm not gonna change for any man" attitude is, well quite frankly lame. It makes no sense. Let's say, you fall in love with some guy and then out of the blue he starts using Axe body wash. And he LOVES it. It's like, all he talks about. How its now "a part of him." "Who he is", he says. So now what gives? Axe Body Wash smells fucking gross so someone's gonna have to bend. Either you burn the inside of your nostrils out with battery acid, or he finds a new soap. Obvi, he'll give it up. See? And you would do the same for any man, woman or child that you cared deeply for. I don't care how long you've had your fave oversized faux cashmere sweater that your ex-roomate left for you and how it comforts you on almost a spiritual level. If your husband or baby is allergic to it,  you toss it. Period. It's hard to see it sometimes but our hobbies, interests, hair style, signature scent, even political views DON'T define us as people. Don't define us as wives, mothers, or lovers. Sometimes it's necessary to let these things go for the sake of people we care for and relationships worth keeping. I'm not saying join a cult for a guy you think is hot and funny, but if he likes you in boot cut as opposed to skinny jeans is that really a deal breaker? Really? Get over yourself. Humor him. They're JEANS. He's not trying to control you. Relax. Honestly, he's probably trying to tell you, without telling you, that you don't look that great in skinny jeans. Cause let's face it, most of us don't. 

TATTOOED FLOOSEY

Now for a classic comfort food recipe that is actually could use a little change up. My Hungarian grandmother made the BEST stuffed cabbage. Cabbage leaves stuffed with meat and rice in a tomato sauce and baked. Maybe not something you grew up with but definitely a part of "who I am!" However, the time it takes to blanch the cabbage leaves and fill them and roll them all up when you're just gonna chop it up in a bowl anyway, kinda makes no sense to me. So this is my version. I've also eliminated the meat making it super healthy and really low calorie. Maybe those skinny jeans will be calling your name after all. No matter what he says! 

LAZY CABBAGE

1 large yellow onion (Spanish or Vidalia are good choices)

3 tbsp Hungarian paprika

1 tbsp smoked Spanish paprika (optional, but adds something special)

1 head of green cabbage

2 cans of diced fire roasted tomatoes

4 cups water

1 cup apple cider vinegar

2 tbsp sugar

1 c brown rice

Salt and pepper

Chop onion and toss into a large soup pot with a drizzle of olive oil. Add the paprika. Coat the onions and let it cook for a few minutes. Add the cabbage to the pot, chopped. Salt and pepper to taste. Incorporate cabbage into the onions until it softens a bit. Add tomatoes, water, vinegar, and sugar. Stir in uncooked rice. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce to simmer and let it go for at least 2 hrs. Just gets better and better. Taste it, and add salt and pepper accordingly. If you really wanna add meat, go right ahead. Ground beef or pork if you like. That's traditional. Ground turkey would be fine too if you're watching it. My favorite way to serve is with really good rye bread and butter. If you're on a skinny jeans mission, have two bowls and skip the bread! You can even omit the rice and eat the whole pot yourself. You'll be a bloated, walking fart, but when that settles you'll be full and skinny. 

SICK AND TIRED

A sick baby. Runny nose, cough, fever. Nothing can make a new mom feel more helpless. Call the doctor, search the web. That should help, right? So wait--my poor itty bitty bubby is stuffed up, glassy eyed, miserable...and every doctor and website is telling me to get a humidifier and wait it out? My precious angel is burning up and apparently it's not a big deal until it hits 105? 105???!!! One hundred and five degrees? Are you effing kidding me? If I had a 103 or 104 fever I'm pretty sure I'd be PRETTY sure I was dying. Give my little lamb some Tylenol and sit tight? Seriously? And while we're on the subject... They need to make children's medicine in flavors like Creme brûlée and coconut macaroon. That way when 90% of any given dose is splattered all over me I'll smell like something delicious and not something vile like fake grape. In what universe does that smell like grapes? Ya know what smells like grapes? WINE. Don't try and pull one over on me. I'm a professional. Wine drinker, that is. I mean, how many mothers are giving their 6 month olds Hawaiian Punch and Bubbalicious? Do you think my child recognizes these flavors as some special treat? No. She recognizes it as something fucking disgusting like the rest of us. Make it taste like applesauce or carrots or...NOTHING. Who cares? She doesn't exactly have a Top Chef palate. We can put a man on the moon, fight wars from thousands of miles away and have access to the whereabouts of our best friends from from 2nd grade at any given moment. These creepy pharmaceutical companies can't come up with a flavor besides...PURPLE? I mean, I know they're SUPER busy coming up with penis hardeners and EYELASH enhancers, but...my kid's sick over here. And the Frankenberry poison you're asking me to shove down her throat isn't making my life any easier. Maybe some luscious lashes and a stiff cock would help. Maybe. Truth is, 9 times out of 10, as frustrating as it is a little Motrin and waiting it out really IS what's ordered. But obvi, I'm not a doctor. 

And ya know, while we're semi on the subject of colossal companies trying in vein to appeal to the likes of an infant, here's a pickle: WHY, for the love of Bethenny, do there need to be pictures if Elmo and Mickey and Pooh Bear on diapers? She's 3 days old. What does she care? I'M the only one who actually sees the outside of the diaper! Do these companies really think my kid has a say in what diaper I put her in? As if the baby version of some stupid cartoon character is swaying my decision? How 'bout a witty daily life lesson? A fortune cookie insert? Hell, I'd take a word of the day or a make up tip over Dora's loco kisser just...staring at me. I'd LOVE that! THAT might sway my decision. I'm already a sucker for the Huggies denim. Huggies with a horoscope? Even better! I'm going to be spending the better part of the next 7-10 years with these images force fed to me. Can I have at least the first 6 months without Cookie Monster's stoner eyes haunting me during 3am changes? 

Elmo Trumps Santa?? Really? That's deep.

It's scary. No matter how much control you think you have as to what your kid hears, sees, likes, dislikes...ya don't. I mean unless you live underground or on a compound somewhere, ya don't. Somehow those pesky Princesses take over with NO WARNING! And Elmo? Fuggedaboudit. Don't even try to resist. That furry red freak has already won. And I mean, there are worse things right? Meth? Prostitution? But seriously. At some point we have to let go. It's not gonna be about us one day. So insane to me that the little jumping bean in my belly has become this little girl who has a favorite ice cream flavor. The little gem that could barely see the first time I held her now looks me directly in the eyes and tells me to "GO. AWAY. " Heartwarming, really. Our children have their whole lives to make their own decisions. We have just a few years to fully control them. So a message to all those big boys trying to market the things I  buy to my 2 year old: Mama's callin' the shots, ok? I want cough syrup that smells like poolside cocktails. And while I'm sipping my poolside cocktails, I wanna look at my babe in a swim diaper that looks like a cute suit. She cant see her own ass, so what the Hell does she care if Nemo's plastered on it?

Look, I want my girls to be their own people. I want them to grow up to have their own tastes. Their own styles. Their own ideas as to what's cool and fun and sexy.  And if she decides to grow up to be a chubby twenty-something in an oversized tweety bird T-shirt standing in line at Space Mountain slugging a red Powerade... Who am I to hold her back? I'll take it as her rebelling against her kooky, over-the-top, gypsy of a mom by just being... NORMAL. (shudder) Like that's ever gonna happen.

A couple recipes--even if it's mind over matter--are sure to make Mama and babe feel better in no time!

PIN-UP PENICILLIN

Homemade chicken noodle soup CAN be the easiest thing ever to make. And the pay off is SO worth it. Maybe your boyfriend has the sniffles and you wanna put on a frilly apron and spoil him. Maybe you're a mom of 2 under 2 and your wine buzz is wearing off as is Junior's last dose of Tylenol and your sweatpants are covered in puke and you haven't washed your hair in 3 days. Either way, why open a can when you can--in no time--throw this yummy soup together, free of MSG and God knows what else. Just a delicious bowl of GET WELL SOON!

1 medium onion

2 stalks celery

2 carrots

2 cloves garlic, grated

1 tbsp dill, fresh or dried

Salt

Pepper

Celery salt

Seasoned salt

1 c (or so) chicken shredded, pulled, chopped. You can use leftover rotisserie chicken, cube up a breast or two, or even use an all natural canned chicken. Look for one with no MSG or fillers. Pretty easy to find. You can also omit the chicken all together. There's no chicken broth or stock in this recipe, so it can easily be vegetarian will the same healing properties!

6 c water

1 c (or so) noodles Your choice. There's so many fun shapes and flavors in your regular grocery store nowadays. The last time I made this I used Ronzoni Roasted Garlic Fettucini. It was AMAZING. If you use a long pasta like this break it into thirds or quarters. Otherwise whether it's elbows, bowties, penne, rotini... About a cup will do. 

Chop onion, carrot, and celery in similar sized chunks. Throw in to a little bit of olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Grate in garlic. Season veggies with salt, pepper, seasoned and celery salt. Let the veg sweat out and get soft for about 10 minutes. If you're using raw chicken, chunk it up and add it now. Add dill and cover with water. Bring to a boil, then simmer.  If you're using cooked or canned chicken, add it now. As little as 20 minutes, as long as...hours! I like to let this simmer for about 2 hours. That's about all I have the patience for. Add your noodles about 20 minutes before you want to serve. Simmering them for this long will make them super soft and perfect for sore throats or funky tummies. Serve with saltines for the sickies, or with yummy garlic bread and white wine for you and a girlfriend. So delicious and comforting, it's sickening. Well...you know what I mean.

ORANGE GINGER CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

Best chocolate chip cookies ever. I love watching people bite into these and the double reaction they get. "Yum! YUUUUUUUUMMMMM! What is that?!" The orange zest and ginger add so much but don't over power. Sure to please any age, any palate. 

3 sticks butter, softened

Zest of 2 medium oranges

2 inches of ginger root, peeled and grated

1 1/4 c granulated sugar

1 1/4 c brown sugar

1 tbsp vanilla

2 eggs

4 c all purpose flour

1 tsp ground ginger (powder)

2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 bag semi sweet chocolate chips or dark chocolate chunks

Get yer scoop on

Size Matters

Preheat oven to 350. Cream together butter, sugars, orange zest and ginger root for a few minutes until fluffy. Stand mixer, hand mixer, by hand, whatever. Add in vanilla, then the eggs one at a time. In a separate bowl combine flour, soda, and ground ginger. Add dry mixture little by little to the butter mixture until incorporated. Fold in chocolate chips. Drop onto cookie sheet lined with silicone or parchment. I always use a cookie scoop. Looks like a little ice cream scoop. I have two sizes. One's about 3cm in diameter, the other about 4cm. I use these ALL THE TIME. Meatballs, cookies, ice cream, cupcake batter...the best investment! I usually use the smaller one for cookies like sugar, coconut, sunflower butter, ginger... But I like to use the bigger one for chunky cookies like oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip. That way every cookie has yummy goodness throughout and nobody gets jipped! So for these, I use the big boy? Bake for 10 minutes till edges are golden. Let them sit on the sheet for two minutes then transfer to cooling rack. 

Yum Yum Gimme Some
Orange Ginger Chocolate Chip Cookies

This recipe makes a BUTT LOAD of cookies. I used reserve half the dough, rolling into a log, wrap it in plastic wrap and keep in the freezer. Now I pre-scoop cookie dough balls right into a freezer bag and store them that way. Someone stops by unexpectedly? You can have freshly baked cookies for them in 10 minutes! I mean, amazing. How DOES she do it?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PATS!

Miss Penelope Shayne aka Pats: Day 1

It's been almost 525,600 minutes since my youngest daughter debuted onto the big bad stage we call Earth. As we gear up for the day, I can't help but reflect upon the past year. Looking back at pictures, "Oh my God! She was so little!" and "Seems like yesterday!" And a million years ago all at the same time... But then I started REALLY thinking. Thinking about what Pats has actually accomplished this year. She went from being tube fed, well, cord fed nutrients from INSIDE me to just, ya know, hanging out at the 72nd St 1 train stop chowin' down on a Grays Papaya dog. I remember when her eyes opening was just cause for a full on celebration and now she wags her finger at me and says "no no no!" Its actually a bit intimidating when I sit down and process it. I mean, what have I done in the past year? Nothing THAT great. Nothing that life changing. I didn't learn to breathe air. Or feed myself. Or clap my hands. I mean, if a teeny tiny human being can make that much progress in just 365 days, shouldn't WE, as intelligent worldly adults, be able to do the same? Yeah yeah, there's New Year's resolutions. Whatever. How many of THEM have you actually kept? Zero? I feel like a more appropriate date to start would be your birthday. Or even better, right NOW!

On march 11, 2011 I gave myself a challenge. I wasn't gonna buy clothes for a year. A whole year. At the time I took this vow, I was buying -average- 3 things a week? From clearance rack $3 tank top to a $5 street pashmina to a new lululemon hoodie or a Betsy Johnson party dress. I had so much [material] crap in my life and I needed to make a change. No matter how good [you think] they look, there's no need for a 34 year old mom of 2 to own a pair of WHITE short shorts from Forever 21. No need for this same woman to have in her dresser drawer a sleeveless T-shirt with an ape face silkscreen in a child size 4T. Especially when her [2 year old] daughter is currently in a size 3T. And then, the straw that broke the camel's back: I was standing in yoga one morning and realized the yellow tank top that was staring back at me was the same yellow tank top I was wearing when I started my period. Not started my LAST period. Started my period, PERIOD. When I was 14. IT WAS TIME TO MAKE A CHANGE. Period. Why am i holding on to all this STUFF? And it's now been a whole year. With the exception of some emergency underwear, I've bought not ONE piece of clothing for myself. At all. That is a CRAZY accomplishment for me. Very proud. (hold for applause)

Pats: 12 months later. I mean...how is this the same person?

But back to Pats. Her development. All the things she's learned and tasted and seen and heard for the first time. How do I compare to all that? Imagine if we, as adults, allowed ourselves and made the time to experience even an ounce of what a baby learns in the first year. We could learn a language. Write a book. Build a house. Start a business. Start a REVOLUTION! Ok. Maybe I'm being dramatic. But I mean, we can do SOMETHING. And it doesn't have to cost a million dollars. And it doesn't have to eat up all our precious time and infringe upon our responsibilities. I mean, I think a lot of us would love to travel around Italy or Greece or South America and taste amazing new foods, see ancient architecture, meet people of whom we've never seen the likes of before. But very few of us have the time or money to do so. So...I don't know...start simple. Obvious. Maybe instead of loading everyone into the Odyssey and heading to... wherever you go everyday, how bout taking a WALK through your neighborhood?Check out things from a different angle. See things in a new way. What kind of trees grow on your block? What do you see? Smell? Feel? Who are the people in YOUR neighborhood? Might be interesting. Or, maybe take an online class, or spend 20 minutes a night with that Rosetta Stone you bought. Learn a new language so that when you finally get to Italy or Greece or brazil you'll be ready!

So, yes, part of it is: Think about what I could accomplish in ONE year if I put my mind to it. Another way to look at it is: If I grew (spiritually, emotionally, intellectually) EVERY year of my life as much as I did my very first year, how friggin' AMAZING would I be? Cleaning out my closet is just the beginning, folks! Mark my words! I'm on a mission. By just opening our eyes and ears and hearts and minds and absorbing all the wonderful and appetizing and disgusting things around us, as opposed to being shut off to them, I think we'd find ourselves far from wondering, "Where has this year gone???"I haven't decided yet what my goal for this year will be after The Great Shopping Drought of 2011. All I know is that it's gotta be good. Pats is getting faster, stronger, and smarter everyday. And there's NO WAY I'm gonna let that bitch be better than me.

Pats was born via scheduled c-section. So on the eve of the procedure, I wanted to have a "Last Supper." I couldn't decide what to have. Italian feast? Chinese delivery? Seafood buffet? Then I decided to have a picnic style BBQ. Hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, cole slaw, corn, watermelon... These are a few of my FAVORITE things! Something about this food just makes me so happy! Just makes me think of summertime family fun. Just warm and cozy and...HAPPY. It was a great decision. Here's a couple recipes for a couple condiments and a desert that are so easy and delicious and economical, you'll never by pre-made again! And, all three of these get better and better over time. Just like my Pats.

COLE SLAW

I Love Cole Slaw. The only thing I may love more is Wheel of Fortune. And I wonder why I feel 80.

2/3 c mayo (I use Hellman's low fat, use what you want but this low fat version tastes just as good and it's pretty much guilt free. So why not?)

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar 1 tablespoon onion powder

2 tablespoons milk (I actually used fat free half and half cause that's all I had in the fridge)

1/2 c sugar 1/2 tsp seasoned salt

1 bag (16 oz) of pre-shredded cabbage (in the grocery store near all the bags of spinach and lettuce)

Whisk together first 6 ingredients in medium bowl. Stir in cabbage. I mean, done. 2 seconds. Cover and let it sit in the fridge for at least 3 hours. Overnight is better.

This yummy slaw paired with Root Beer Pulled Pork smothered in Boof's famous sauce. Yes, please.

BOOF'S BBQ SAUCE

Again, this is so easy and so inexpensive, it just makes sense. Plus you know EXACTLY what's going into what you're eating. I'm having label paranoia lately. This is amazing with chicken, pulled pork, or my fave: sweet potato fries!

1 c tomato sauce (one of the little cans near all the canned tomatoes. It's plain, barely seasoned, and it's under $1. Sometimes you even see them on sale 4/$1.

1/2c ketchup (I prefer one without high fructose corn syrup if we're going through the trouble of making our own. Hunt's is good, or Simply Heinz. But Hunts is cheaper.

1/2 c water

1/3 c apple cider vinegar 1/3 c brown sugar 2 tbsp spicy brown mustard (deli mustard)2 tbsp molasses 1 tbsp onion powder 1 tbsp garlic powder 1/4 tsp cayenne (it really mellows out as it sits, but if you really don't like spicy, reduce or omit.)

Combine ingredients in a saucepan. Simmer 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Pour into an old ketchup bottle or sealed Tupperware in the fridge. Just gets better and better as it sits.

SCRATCH BROWNIES

So easy you can memorize it! Once I figured this one out, I haven't used a box brownie mix since. And you know I love a box mix! These are almost like fudge. So rich, so good. I like to keep them in the fridge or freezer and serve in tiny bite sized squares.

2 sticks butter, softened 2 c brown sugar

2 eggs 2 tsp vanilla

1 c all purpose flour

1 c unsweetened cocoa powder 1 pinch of salt 1/2 c mini chocolate chips

The moments that make my heart sing! That face!
 Totally worth the risk of salmonella.

Preheat oven to 350. Cream together butter and sugar (by hand or electric mixer for about 2 minutes). Add eggs one at a time, then add vanilla. In a separate bowl combine flour, cocoa, and salt. Add to butter mixture little by little until incorporated completely. Spread into a greased 9x9 pan. Sprinkle top with the mini chips. Bake about 25 minutes until the sides begin to pull away and look dry. Let cool completely, then pop in freezer before cutting. It helps the edges come out clean. Fudgy, yummy, goodness.

MY KID CAN BEAT UP YOUR HONOR STUDENT

Is she stacking? Is he walking? Does she use possessive pronouns? Why do you care? Do you think she's gonna go through her entire adult life never being able to stack two blocks one on top of the other? This is gonna keep her from a good job? The man of her dreams? A full ride to Harvard? Are you ACTUALLY concerned for her developmental well being, or are you just trying to see how she stacks up to your kid? (Pun intended) COME ON. It's like a group of moms get together and have NOTHING better to talk about than motor milestones. Like 2 years ago you even knew what that phrase meant! Ok, ok. I get it. Our kids are a big part of our lives. For most of us, it IS all we do all day so its natural to talk about. But let's be honest: this type of banter has nothing to do with our kids and everything to do with US. How on earth does it make you a better mom than me cause your kid sat up at 4 months old? Did you drill it into her? Use flash cards? Bribes? And suddenly I'M inferior to you because my 7 month old chokes on Cheerios and yours doesn't? Seriously, get a life. And maybe that's the problem...

As I've previously talked about, it's important - if not imperative- to have outside interests beyond child-rearing. You're likely to go insane other wise. Or drive others insane. I was recently at a gathering of old friends most of whom I hadn't seen in 7-10 years. There were babies everywhere! It was great to see everyone and catch up outside the virtual world. Well, it was great until I felt like casual catch up turned to catty competition. Are you really interested in what I'm up to, or are you seeing if it measures up to what YOU'RE up to? Ugh. So frustrating. WHO CARES? It basically boils down to self esteem. If you're confident in your place in the world and proud of who you are and what you're doing then what anyone else is doing, not doing, achieving, making, writing about shouldn't matter. Right? If someone you know is gettin 'er dun and you're not, then get off you ass and DO something about it. There's no better motivator than someone who you think sucks SUCCEEDING! Maybe not a very Jesus-y or Budda-ish attitude, but TRUE. The old "if THEY can do it, I can do it" can take you a long way, baby! 

Hey, I'm all for a little healthy competition. A rousing game of Scattergories or a bloody  4th of July volleyball match is good for the soul! They whole "everybody plays, everybody wins" movement is lame. I'm sorry, it is. Not everybody makes the debate team. Not everybody gets to start Varsity. And it's NOT just an honor being nominated. I think it's important that Pats and Nora know these things. That everything's not just handed to you in life, you have to work and train and put it out there and be proud of your product. And I will eventually instill this in them. EVENTUALLY. But they're 10 months and 2 1/2.  And I don't need them to be exposed to sad, gossipy women judging them on their stair climbing and puzzle assembling abilities. Gross. It literally makes me shiver. And quite frankly, I don't want to be around you bitches either. I have a core of mom friends (let's get this straight- friends who HAPPEN to be moms) who ARE my friends because we can just BE with each other. Of course we talk about our babes. And we seek advice, ask questions, share stories. Nothing to do with COMPETITION, everything to do with CAMARADERIE. I know I'm constantly barking this, but being a mom of small children if F-ing hard, dude. Everyday I feel like a failure and a loser for one reason or another. I spill 2 lb bags of sugar all over the floor and counter. My toilets are dirty. My baby cries and I can't figure out why. I'm hard enough on myself, I don't need the freaking wanna-be bridge club up my ass too. I need REAL humans, real girlfriends who can admit their shortcomings. Who cheer me on for my victories and give me a squeeze during the dark times. Even if it's just over the phone. And I can do the same for them. 

So can this PLEASE stop? I HATE this mom on mom crime. It's hurtful, it's pathetic, and it's a disgusting example for our daughters. It's also a disgusting example for our sons. If they see us treating each other this way, how do you think THEY are gonna eventually treat women? Think about that for a second. So, I'm over it. All you haters, C U Next Tuesday, 'hos. Be gone! I'll be over here holding up the examples for my daughters of physical and emotional strength, self-confidence, and perseverance and that with the distractions of day drinking and reality TV, you can get through just about anything.

Does your kid eat sand? Act like a lunatic in the bath? No? Mine does. Basically...gifted. 

These to recipes can definitely stack up to the snacks they were inspired by! And they're different enough from the originals, that there's really no competition at all!

KALE CHIPS

These couldn't be easier, cheaper, healthier, or more delicious. For real. My husband is definitely a chip guy. After making these, he's a full on convert. Even Nora begs for them,  "Green chips! Green chips!" Try them and you'll be hooked.

1 bunch of kale

Olive oil

Kosher or Sea Salt (you could use regular table salt, but I like the extra crunch from the kosher or sea salt)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Make sure kale is washed and completely dry. Cut out the thick stem and tear into large bite size pieces. Place on a baking sheet. (lined with a silicone pad if you have it. If you don't, go get one!! These things are the BEST!) Drizzle a little olive oil over the kale and toss lightly with your hands. Sprinkle with salt. Bake for 12-15 minutes until edges are brownish but not burnt. 

They actually dry out a bit and get even crunchier as they sit, but chances are they won't even make it to the table! You'll most likely gobble immediately. 

One head of kale should make about 3 or 4 batches depending on the size of your baking sheet. You want just a single layer.

 They are absolutely perfect with just olive oil and salt, but also good with garlic powder or chili flakes...whatever you like. Get creative!

STICKY RAISIN PIE

I'm allergic to nuts. So is my husband, actually. I feel like I've gone through my whole life hearing people gush over pecan pie. How delicious and decadent it is. Super jealous, I decided to come up with a substitute. The sticky raisin pie was born! If you like raisins, and you like a serious sugar high...this is the pie for you!

3 eggs

1 c real maple syrup

1/2 c granulated sugar

1/2 c brown sugar (I usually use dark brown sugar in almost everything, but if you have light, no biggie.

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 c raisins (use any variety, color, or combination of raisins that you like. I found these AMAZING raisins at Trader Joe's. Huge, sweet and delicious. And I love all the colors!)

Frozen pie shell (if you're Hell-bent on using from scratch, be my guest. I'll be using frozen) ;)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk together first six ingredients. Stir in raisins and pour into pie shell over a foil lined baking sheet. Trust me, you do not want to clean burnt sugar off the bottom of your oven.  Bake for 50 minutes. Serve with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream. Or both. So. Good. 

Mmmmmmm, pie. Sticky pie. 

HOT MESS + HOT YOGA = HOT MAMA

From the first time your newborn scratches his perfect little alabaster face to a broken arm on the pee wee football field, it's a sad fact of parenthood: kids get hurt. They bump, they bruise, they bash, they bang. Not fun, but it comes with the territory. It's an expected reality. But I think most soon to be moms and dads are in someway prepared for it.But NOBODY prepared me for the injuries and abuse I'VE had to endure over the past 2 1/2 years. Fish hooking, gum scraping, head butting, nipple biting. Baby talons raking over your eyelids like razor blades on fire. And while we're on the subject, I need a BIOLOGICAL reason why an infants fingernails need to be Freddie Kruger sharp and grow overnight. It's INSANE. I honestly think one of the hardest tasks and biggest shockers for a new mom is the newborn manicure. Like trying to pamper a caffeinated grasshopper. A caffeinated grasshopper with freakishly sharp nails. 

See these seemingly adorable and innocent treasures for what they really are:
VIOLENT, VICIOUS BEASTS. Just...bullies.
Pats and Nora. Tag-teaming me on the daily.

A few weeks ago I was absolutely at the end of my rope. I was clocked in the jaw and kicked in the c-section too many times a day. My hair was getting ripped from the roots in gobs and I'm pretty sure I had a dead front tooth.

I needed a break from the octagon ring that was our living room or I was seriously gonna lose it. I couldn't run the risk of acting on the urge to defend myself, so I needed to get the H-E-double hockey sticks outta there. And fast. I needed a hobby. A break from the house on a daily basis that would somehow make me a better me. And, in turn, a better mom. I've never been super enthusiastic about working out. I like doing my Pilates DVDs now and again, and I love to dance...but I needed more out of my "me time." We were walking through La Jolla one morning (as we did everyday while we were  there for 7 weeks). Park, grocery store, coffee, the norm. We passed a big sign that read "BIKRAM YOGA."  Bikram yoga, in a nutshell, is a practice of 26 different yoga postures and two breathing exercises done in a room heated to about 104 degrees. Thats basically the jist. I'd always wanted to try it. I wasn't what you'd call a yogi by any stretch of the imagination! A class at the Y in Des Moines with my friend Carlos, an at home DVD a couple times, and a few prenatal classes in San Francisco where the instructor used the word "juicy" one too many times for my liking. Gag. But, I don't know, something in my gut told me I would like Bikram. Enough so, that before we left NYC I bought two Groupons to two different yoga studios to use upon my return. Figured it would be money flushed down the loo, but a good deal. And like most gals, I love a good deal! Never the less, I took a quick iPhone pic of their schedule and vowed to myself I would check it out the next morning. And then the most bizarre, unexpected thing happened: at 6:20 am the following day, I dragged my battered booty out of bed, got dressed and actually walked out the door! I know. And just like that, everything in my life was about to change... 

Over the next 90 minutes, everything was just...clicking. Everything the instructor said was ringing so true. Every posture...it felt like my body had been waiting to move like this my whole life and was finally getting the chance. It was awesome. And the body part was just the tip of the iceburg. It was getting into my head. It was getting into my...dare i say...SOUL. I felt like my whole system was being...cleaned. Flushed out. I was sweating out all the crap built up inside. And I was hooked. The next day, I got up at 6:20 once again and headed back to the hot room. I bought an unlimited monthly membership and was on a mission. I left class feeling unstoppable. Strong. Empowered. This continued over the course of the next 5 days or so. And then...it all came crashing down. I couldn't take more than 2 sips of Pinot without becoming almost instantly blubbering drunk. I could sit down for more than an hour without falling upon rising. My arms were burning so badly I could barely hold Pats up to nurse, my head was pounding, and my left hip was jacked up to the point that a simple stroll to the market was excruciatingly painful. Both physically and mentally. WTF? This was so freaking unfair. I finally get out. I find something that is MINE. And that is stimulating and active and spiritual and motivating and it's left me in a physical state of helplessness. What gives, man? Was something telling me to stop? Give up? And then the words of Clark W. Griswold rang through my head: "Nothing worth while is easy, Ellen. You know that!" Ok, Sparky, I hear ya. I popped a couple Advil, doubled my water intake, saw a chiropractor a couple times and got back on the camel! 

And I've continued to get back almost everyday for almost 2 months. My hip healed. Almost. The soreness has faded almost completely away. Almost. 

But doesn't it sometimes seem like that's always the way? I spend 99% of everyday taking care of everyone else and the second I try to do something for myself, I get shit on. More often than not, literally. My keys ALWAYS chip a fresh (paid for) mani. As soon as I find a few minutes to catch up on phone calls or emails or writing? The shrill screams of a nap cut short. But it's true. Nothing worth while IS easy. Its not easy to get up while EVERYONE else is asleep (which NEVER happens by the way--everyone sleeping at the same time) and head to a heated torture chamber where I contort my body for the sake of emotional balance. Well, and abs. Well, and rock hard thighs. And its not easy putting career and vacations and personal hygiene on the back burner. And it's not easy trying to raise children that don't grow up to be serial killers or drug dealers or date rapers. But going through these hardships make the end result that much sweeter. The hardest part of my day is usually over by 8:30 am. That's pretty freeing. And, when we finally do get that romantic getaway in the sun, I'll appreciate it that much more. The life experiences and trials I'm dealing with right now can only make me better at my job. A wiser, more well-rounded woman learning the vital skills of patience and perseverance. And how to breast feed, make a grilled cheese, and find "Franklin" on YouTube simultaneously. 

SEE...? BULLIES.
The early days: Jeremy takes one for the team. 

Out of the hot room and into the cold world, baby!

Bikram inspired tips for moms (and other humans) gripping their lotus flowers for dear life to avoid drowning:

A LITTLE SUFFERING BUILDS COMPASSION I heard a teacher say this recently while in wind removing pose. It's a posture in which you are lying on your back and you pull your knee up to your shoulder till you feel a little "pinch" in your hip. Wonder why my frickin hip kills? Um...ow. Same thing applies to motherhood. Or just person-hood. Somehow - despite the fact that the pasta I serve her has nothing on it but parmesan cheese -Nora manages to get spaghetti sauce UNDER her bib and all over the brand new sweater I laid out for her the night before. I realize this as we have 3 minutes to get out the door for a play date. I mean, it's like my the world is about to end. The baby scratches her face with one of those Freddie fingers just as I'm about to dress them in their fancies and take holiday pics. Forget it. Full mental breakdown approaching. For ME, you understand. Not the children. Right? It's like "WHY MEEEEE?" Cut to: Huffing and puffing down the sidewalk with my City Select as we're now late due to the last minute costume change and there's a young mother, toddler in tow, pushing a no more than 6 month old baby in plastic umbrella stroller with an oxygen tank in the flimsy basket beneath. Spaghetti sauce? I'm such a DICK. Cut to: (Audible sigh) The subway elevator reeks of piss, then I have to squeeze my double chassis and my yoga assy onto the 1 train which is packed for absolutely no reason at 1:30 on a Tuesday. After my eyeballs return to normal from their rolled-up-into-my-brain position, I look down at the other end of the car to see a young woman in a wheelchair. She's in a conversation with another passenger about how she broke her back in gymnastics when she was 17. Paralyzed since. Seriously? I'm crying. A scratch that will heal in a day? Ruined your stupid Christmas picture princess? I hate myself. Not to say if nothing bad ever happens to you in your life you can't be compassionate toward others...but sometimes in takes a wheelchair and an oxygen tank to show you that your spaghetti sauce "incident" is ridiculous nothingness. I'm such an a-hole. Which leads me too...

THE GREATEST CURRENCY IS SELF-COMPASSION AND ENDLESS PATIENCE. Now, endless patience, I believe, is a lifelong journey. With screaming kids, spit up stained Juicy Couture, a two year old's new found love of watercolors, and waiting for ANYTHING to happen on Desperate Housewives...we'll say my "endless patience" is a work in progress. But I'm working on it and that's what matters. Self-compassion on the other hand, is something totally different. Sometimes we're so busy consoling everybody else and figuring out their problems that we forget about ourselves. Now, self-compassion isn't "felling sorry for yourself." Think of it instead as self-APPRECIATION. Instead of getting down on yourself for the little things that go wrong. CELEBRATE the little things that go RIGHT! You DIDN'T chip your paid-for mani! Woo-hoo! Pour a for-no-reason glass of bubbles while watching Bravo! Done. You got the multiplying mountain of laundry FINALLY washed and folded AND put away. Rock on! Go buy yourself a hard copy of US Weekly and steal find 10 minutes to do a flip through. But self compassion/appreciation goes beyond rewarding our own efforts and little victories. It's about loving ourselves. I know, I know. Sounds a little 80's? But fa realz. I don't want Nora to hear me call myself fat or old or ugly. I don't want Pats picking up on me silently wishing for another life a la Kardashian or Witherspoon or Chelsea Handler. I wanna show my girls that I'm following MY dreams, and in turn they'll be inspired to follow their own. I don't want to get so wrapped up in what everyone else is feeling and doing and eating and wearing that I let myself go completely and wake up one day to find my kids nominated me for some LIVE! With Kelly Mommy Makeover segment. I mean, a sweet gesture but...not interested. SELF COMPASSION. SELF APPRECIATION. Worth more than gold or silver. Or Louboutin. 

YOU DON'T NEED A GREENHOUSE TO GROW. 

Yes. I've been led to most of this new found wisdom by trapping myself in a stinky sweat box for 90 minutes a day, depriving myself of water while blood rushes rapidly to and from my brain. For some reason that's what I apparently need. For now. But I can't count on it. Well, I can't DEPEND on it. Peace and knowledge and understanding and compassion and pain and pleasure is all around us all the time. It's just a matter of being open to it. All of it. I don't need to put myself in extreme conditions to accept supreme gifts. Its all there ahead of me. It's hard not to be intimidated by the brightness of great things. Take off the Dior shades and SEE. And feel, and taste and LISTEN. So important! I need to listen before I speak or freak out or throw something or scream. It's a pretty low moment when you loose it on a toddler for interrupting your "Housewives" for the 12th time not cause she wants "choo choo trains on iPad," but because she's thirsty and is asking very politely for a glass of water. Please, Mommy. I get frustrated constantly with her inability to listen. Maybe she's frustrated with the same thing in me. 

WHAT WE DO IS SIMPLE, IT IS NOT EASY.

Changing a diaper, emptying the dishwasher, mashing up a banana I mean, a trained monkey could do it. A trained MAN could do it. Simple tasks that fill our day that is somehow the hardest work we've ever done. And on top of it we're expected to keep our cool, not curse or drink, and keep a smile on our faces whilst watching "Toy Story 3" for the 487th time. And pay attention to every move Jesse makes. And NOT cry at the end. "Why you so sad Mama? Woody ok, Mama. Bonnie nice." Sure! No prob. Seems easy enough, right? WRONG. I feel like I've aged 10 years in the past 28 months. Everyday seems like the hardest day I've ever lived. Somedays the responsibility of being at the helm of the life and well being of two miniature human beings is...insane...suffocating...borderline hilarious actually. And they barely do anything but play and eat and poop. What am I gonna do when I have to deal with school and boys and bullies? Oy vey! Easy, no. SIMPLE, yes. I've taken to the idea of moving through every moment one second at a time. In class, we don't hold any posture for more than 60 seconds. Some 30. Some only 10. Come ON. You can do ANYTHING for 10 seconds! Wake up. Change morning diapers. Go downstairs. Turn on Pandora. Start breakfast. Eat breakfast. And so forth. I'm not worrying about lunch. I'm not worrying about the party we're going to on the weekend. I'm not thinking about the struggles we will likely have at nap and bedtimes. I'm just living in very second of every moment. Simple enough. In theory. 

COME BACK TO YOUR BREATH. 

It's important, and most teacher's stress, in between postures to focus and "come back to your breath." This is an amazing skill I've tried to incorporate to my daily practice. In the yoga studio and in life. When Nora's having a full mental and physical meltdown or turning purple from a tantrum, we encourage her to breathe. "Take a deep breath....in...out." Its actually wicked cute when she complies. Jeremy and I however, seem to have a harder time following our own advice. As most of us do, right? So, we've  vowed to give this one the 'ol college try. When things are about to boil over, STOP. When there's a line wrapping around the store at the Rite Aid on 145th and Broadway because there's ONE girl working the registers on a Saturday afternoon. And all you need is baby wipes because you forgot them on your last diapers.com order and you realize as you get closer that she's ON THE PHONE screaming at her baby daddy...STOP. Breathe. Ahhhhh. Or " HAAAAAA" as Bikram would say. Your toast burns. Let it out. Poop up the back. Regroup. Crayon on your flat screen. Move on. Amazing what a little oxygen will do. Again, simple. Not necessarily easy. 

I'm not saying Bikram yoga will solve all your problems. Or make you a better parent or spouse or person. But there's SOMETHING out there that will give you that extra boost you need. That something just for you that will enrich your life just a little more. Make you feel more confident, more alive. And all of this will rub off in everything you do. Maybe it's cooking class. Maybe it's pottery. Maybe it's church. There IS time for you. I didn't think there was time for me. But I MADE time. And if you wanna give Bikram a shot, come up to Harlem and practice with me! I'll go halfsies on your first class! That's how much I love this. Maybe you'll do it once, or everyday for the rest of your life. Who knows. And no matter how long you practice, and no matter how long you live, you may never reach the "ideal." In anything you do. That's not the point. You do what you can for you. For your family. Today you may be able to do more than yesterday. Tomorrow, maybe less. Your apple pie may never look like Martha's. Your kids' birthday parties may never be as grand as Tori and Dean's. You may never be able to bend back and see the wall behind you or touch your "exact forehead to your exact knee." But we ALL can stand with our feet together, planted firmly into the ground, and look at ourselves in the eyes in the mirror. And breathe. Let's begin.

WARM FROM THE INSIDE OUT!

Two cozy recipes to fill you up with comfort.

CHOUDHURY CHILI

I've been going through a phase lately where I'm kinda picky about meat. Especially ground meat for some reason. So I've been cooking a lot of vegetarian recipes. This vegan chili is super healthy and super filling. I guarantee you won't miss the meat. And if you do, add some in. Fine by me.

2 medium onions, diced

2 cloves garlic, chopped finely or grated

5 (15 oz) cans of beans You can choose any combo you like. For taste color and texture I prefer: black, pinto, light kidney, dark kidney, cannellini or white beans. But again, whatever you like. Chick peas are good, lentils, red beans...sometimes I switch it up depending on the day/my mood.

1 (15 oz) can of corn

2 (15 oz) cans of diced fire roasted tomatoes They don't have to be fire roasted. I love these though. They add a nice smoky flavor that works well in chili. But you can get plain, with garlic, with peppers onions and celery...your chili your choice. 

A palmful or so each of: garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, smoked paprika, dried or powdered oregano, chili powder

1 tsp cinnamon

Your favorite hot sauce (I like about 10 dashes of a chipotle sauce)

Worchestershire sauce about 5 dashes or so

Salt

Pepper

If I happen to have these lying around I'll throw in a half a handful (a tablespoon maybe?) of semi-sweet chocolate chips, a bottle of dark beer or stout (half in the pot, half for the chef), any coffee still left in the pot from the morning. These just give it a little something extra, but no worries if they're not around. It'll still be delicious!

This really couldn't be simpler. Or easier for that matter! Dice up the onions and garlic and add to a big pot over med-high heat with a LITTLE bit of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Let these cook a bit and soften while you open up all your cans! Drain and rinse the beans and corn in a colander to get off any excess salt and "tinny" taste. Dump in over the onions. Add your tomatoes, not drained. Now your spices and any "extras." Stir it all together. Bring up to a boil, then reduce to a low simmer. You could be eating in a half hour or 4 hours. The longer it sits on the stove the yummier and thicker it gets and gives all the favors a chance to get to know each other a bit. I  when you're ready to serve give it a taste and add more salt and pepper to taste. Top with chopped scallions, shredded cheese (I like a reduced fat cheddar or pepper jack), and plain Greek yogurt (you can use sour cream if you prefer). I set it out in little bowls and your guests   can top as they choose. Ovbi, if you wanna keep it vegan, omit cheese and sour cream or use soy. Serve with your favorite tortilla chips, corn bread, regular bread, whatevs. Dig in! Good with that dark beer (if there's any left), or a nice spicy red wine. 

**If you want to go ahead and add meat, brown a pound of ground beef or turkey while you're cooking the onions and garlic.**

MAMA's TIME OUT

This hot chocolate is so special and decadent and delicious and SO EASY you'll never use powdered again. For an extra special kick for Mama, add a splash of kahlua, Bailey's, bourbon or amaretto...aaaaaaahhhhh. 

This recipe is for a regular sized coffee mug, one serving. If you want it in one of those big 'ol is-it-a-cup-is-it-a-bowl mug, double it up. 

1 c (8 oz) of milk (what ever % you like, I use skim)

2 tbsp semi sweet chocolate chips

1 tbsp brown sugar (dark or light, whatever you have on hand)

Sprinkle of cinnamon

Whipped cream (optional)

In a small saucepan, heat milk and brown sugar over medium heat till it starts to simmer. Remove from heat and whisk in chocolate chips till completely melted. Then whisk in cinnamon. Pour into your favorite mug and top with whipped cream! So good! If you are adding booze, I would pour it into the mug, then pour the hot chocolate over it. We don't wanna risk cooking out any of that alcohol content now do we?