Friday, October 30, 2009


1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
3 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 pkg chocolate chips
1 cup chopped nuts
Cream the butter until very creamy. Add the sugar and eggs and beat very well. Add vanilla and dry ingredients. Add nuts and chocolate chips. Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes.

It's probably a pretty standard recipe, but it actually worked, so for me it's magic. I think the secret is the oven temperature. I must have been baking cookies too hot before. Enjoy!

Thursday, October 29, 2009


My least favorite part of two is that I am never right. It doesn't matter what the issue is, big or small, I am wrong. If I'm invited to her tea party, I invariably sit in the wrong seat. When it's time to put pajamas on, I choose the pair that are currently out of favor (even if she did insist on wearing them last night). Whichever cookie I offer MUST be the one with fewer chocolate chips, because obviously I can't count as well as she can. I am an evil, horrible tyrant when I insist that yes, it IS nap time. When I put her into her car seat, she wants to get in by herself. If I decide I can be patient and wait the ten minutes it takes her to get in all by herself, she whines and demands that I help her. Every sentence I utter is contradicted. I respect her independence. I think it's great that she can assert herself now, and I want her to be able to do things for herself and make decisions about her world. I'm just a little tired of always, always being wrong.

(Incidently, there are many things I love about two, including her spunkiness, that she obviously wants me to be happy, that she often tells me she loves me with no promptings, and she is absolutely the best at playing pretend.)

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I did it!

My entire adult life I have been unsuccessful at baking chocolate chip cookies. They never, never, never turn out. Sometimes I cry. Usually I vow I will never make them again. Yesterday it was make cookies or spend another hour playing barbies. (Honestly, why does my two-year-old play with barbies?!) She vetoed the nobakes that I wanted to make. I can get those to work, most of the time. I accidentally mentioned chocolate chip and her mind was made up. It had "chocolate" in the title. OF COURSE she wanted to make them! So I gave in. And they turned out great! It was a miracle, I tell ya. A miracle. So thank you to Caroline, who gave me the recipe months ago. It's a keeper.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Chocolate love

The other day I was telling Isaac about a dream I had. I'd met a woman in an underground parking lot who was illegally selling German chocolate. (I'm not sure what was illegal about it.) In the middle of the story, Lizzy grabbed my chin and pulled me to look eye to eye with her. She said, "Where is that chocolate, Mommy!" She thought I was holding out on her. Poor girl has never had German chocolate.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Daddy's Girl

Lizzy is definitely a Daddy's girl. She always has been. Nothing makes her happier than playing with Isaac. Sometimes it's so extreme that she becomes anti-Mommy. Yesterday I finished nursing Barak and went to find the other half of my family. When I walked into the room, she started screaming, "No! Go away. Don't play with us, Mommy!" Isaac asked why I couldn't play, too, and she said, "Because I don't love Mommy."
Whenever I try to get her out of the crib in the morning she screams for her dad. As much as she doesn't want to be asleep anymore, she wants me even less. I know she's only two. I know there's a (relatively) new baby in the house. That doesn't make it any better being the less preferred parent.
Meanwhile, my infant has decided that he can only sleep if he's being walked around. Any time I wanted to sit down last night he wailed.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Baby Faces

I love this little guy whether he's happy:
Or sad:
He makes the best faces. I love it when he shows off his double chins.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Barak and his Ladies

Lizzy insisted that Barak wanted to hold her dolls.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

They got the blues

I'm babysitting another two-year-old. It's nap time. This should be my hour to relax a little, maybe get some housework done (ha ha), but the girls are not happy. Coming from my bedroom I can hear the intense ululations of an almost-three-year-old. My very articulate little girl, meanwhile, is screaming, "I want to make a deal! I want to make a deal! Do you hear me? I want to make a deal!" Apparently, if you try to bargain with your toddler too often it will come back to haunt you. At least the baby is happy, but then again, I'm not asking him to take a nap. He's happily chewing his shirt. Never mind the poop stain blossoming on the back of it. His other clothes are all in one of the napping rooms.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Mommy Moments

There are certain moments throughout my day that remind me how wonderful it is to be a mother. When two-year-old Lizzy runs into the room as fast as her little legs can go and throws herself into my arms with a look of gleeful terror on her face, I can't help but feel special. She's only fleeing from her growling, roaring, playing father, but even in play I represent safety to her. I hope she always feels safe running to me, whatever her problems.
When I find myself quietly doing dishes all by myself (no toddler insistently splashing at my elbow), I have to check on her, just to see what she's up to. I never know what I will find. Once I found her reading a book to herself on her little princess couch. It was dark in her room so I turned on her light. She looked at me with a very grumpy expression and said, "Hey, my wood chip is sleeping!" Sure enough, a piece of bark from the playground was nestled on the pillow of her crib where she had carefully placed it. Obviously she was sitting in the dim lighting, reading until it fell asleep, just like Mommy and Daddy do for her. I turned the light back off and went back to my dishes.
I love my cuddly baby boy, too. Though it makes sleeping somewhat difficult for me, I love the snuffling, grunting snorts that he makes in his little bassinet next to my bed. I can't wait until he sleeps through the night so that I can too, but for now I enjoy snuggling with him frequently, at all hours.
Today we covered empty oatmeal containers with crayoned paper and called them drums. We marched around the house (with a somewhat bewildered Barak slung under one arm) and had our own little parade. One of the best and worst phrases I hear is, "Let's do it again!" Best, because I know I've just done something fun. That always makes me feel kind of like a rockstar. Worst, because there is no telling how many times I'm going to have to do it.
Yesterday, Lizzy told me she was going to marry me. I wouldn't trade being a mother for anything.