At the market

What is going on today at the market? Behind me in line is a woman who, if she runs into my bum once more, might lose a limb. In front of me is the daughter-half of a pair who split themselves up to game the lines. They keep passing their baguette and cheese back and forth when each thinks the other will be first to the register. To my left is the ever-present line cutter who snaked in before me although I'd entered the queue first. I've also seen male coin-slot which is always unwelcome and perhaps I'm too serious in the way of parking lot etiquette but when it's really busy and you see people waiting for spots, don't dawdle and eat a salad with your trunk open. Good god everyone.

Ol is almost 4, spag and meatballs, local deals

Today's One Day Deal at participating Whole Foods is: Kerrygold Kilaree Cheddar: "St. Patrick's Day approved! Rich and creamy and full of flavor. Hand-selected and aged 15 months exclusively for Whole Foods Market."

Reg. $10.99/lb, today: $5.99/lb

And, for DC-area folks looking to springify their yards, American Plant is offering pansy market baskets (8 plants per) for $11.24, a 25% savings. ~~~~ My baby is almost four. Yep, Ol, my dearest shamrock, turns four this Sunday. Hard to believe in some ways as I so clearly remember the day he was born. He came two weeks early (best gift ever), and on that Tuesday morning, Jack and I were snuggled on the couch reading. Well, as best you can snuggle with a 38-week pregnant woman. Anyway, my water broke surprising us both, and I remember Jack asking, "Mommy, did you just tee-tee?" Hah. I'd had a funny feeling all morning: had emailed two friends to ask if they'd keep their phones handy; and had told Tom, who had a meeting about 45 minutes away, to keep his phone on and answerable. In fact, I'd been nesting like a loon for the four days prior as well. I detest ironing, told Tom when we married that I didn't do it and didn't intend to. Yet, over the weekend before Oliver was born, I felt compelled to iron our guest room duvet cover. You couldn't have stopped me from doing so if you'd tried.

Anyway, my little guy came along that afternoon, and I've been wildly in love with him ever since, as has been my experience with Jack. Boys are exhausting, but man do they love their mothers. I think they'd reattach, umbilically, if they could. It's a little intense at times but you never doubt your connection, at least I don't. So, as T and I hosted a little celebration after Shabbat today at O's school, and I finish up Wonder Woman piñata party favors and get ready to make a Wonder Woman cake and Hello, Kitty! cupcakes (they are Ol's crushes) for Sunday, I'm feeling terribly thankful that I have such a happy reason to do so. ~~~~

As a complete aside, if y'all have not made the perfect spaghetti and meatballs recipe I have posted in the Entrees section, you really must. Each and every time I eat them, I am struck anew with just how ludicrously good they are. Thawed some for dinner last night and was real glad.

spaghetti and meatballs, best in the world

 

sad cocktail shaker, stuck shut with goodness inside

It's been the kind of day...

It's been the kind of day ...during which I felt grateful to make my way to Pilates, first thing, and slog through an hour with a wonderful group of women; ...during which I got a lot done but none of it was anything of interest to reminisce about later; ...during which I ate pasta for both lunch and dinner; ...during which a primary accomplishment was to style my hair and actually get dressed in a thoughtfully-constructed outfit; ...during which said outfit was splattered with pizza grease by hungry kids not three hours later; ...during which, in the midst of my own dinner, a rogue spaghetti noodle flung juice towards my white jeans and I sprinted upstairs to change into PJs, defeated; ...during which it was continuously, deceptively cold; ...during which I made a cocktail at 6:00p only to have smashed the shaker together so tightly that I couldn't open said cocktail for quite some, ice-meltingly, cocktail-watering-downly time; ...during which I turned down my hubs' invite to watch TV together, even though I miss him, because I simply must go to bed and read at least one page of anything.