Strange Bedfellows

I've always really liked that adage, and so I'm psyched to finally use it for a blog post.  But, I digress.

Since The Great Move of 2012, aka Adam and I packing up the majority of our things so he and his brother could move them to the new house in Virginia, Bryony and I have been left with a few items to live on for the remaining two months we have in Michigan.  Granted, we have the majority of our furniture since we plan to rent the house out furnished, but Adam did move both Bryony's and our beds.  So, mother and daughter now share a very comfortable (I splurged and bought the best Bed Bath and Beyond could offer) pillowtop air mattress.

There are a few challenges that have arisen with this new sleeping arrangement, although not what one might expect.  Bryony has a difficult time with going to bed if I'm not yet ready to join her.  I don't know if it's the foreign-ness of the air mattress, or my bedroom, but she does not like falling asleep in there alone.  Several times I find her standing quietly at the doorway, peeking out at me while I clean, job-hunt or work on the computer.  The final night of the Democratic National Convention, I found her secretly watching Obama's speech from the bedroom.  Knowing she wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, I decided to let her watch it with me, to which she responded, "It's President Obama!!  He's a good guy, Mom."  No, I didn't make that up.

The weirder aspect of sharing a bed with my three-year old is on par with the weirdness Adam experiences from sharing a bed with me.  Bryony (like I do) talks in her sleep.  It is so incredibly bizarre to wake up to my child trying to hold a conversation with me while she's still sleeping.  She laughs, she's sarcastic, she's bossy...all while her eyes are closed.  She's come out with little gems like, "Mo-oooom, why are you still napping??" and "I want my truck!" (referring to a toy I'd put on the shelf before bed the night before).  This morning I woke to her declaring, "I'm all done with this!"  What, I'm not sure, but she was very adamant about it.

My biggest concern is whether we'll be able to transition her back into her own bed once we've moved to Virginia, especially since she'll finally be in a toddler bed instead of a crib.  Too many big changes all at once, I'm afraid.  Then again, if she's in our bed, maybe Adam can finally get some sleep.  She and I can sleep talk to each other, and leave him out of it.

What Makes Soup a Stew?

I knew I had a ton of vegetables in the fridge that needed to be used, so I had an idea this evening to make a pot of veggie stew.  I didn't have a recipe to work from (I usually don't enjoy following them anyway) so I started improvising.  I wanted a nice, savory broth with a little sweet, so after sauteeing eggplant, patty pan squash, yellow bell pepper, onion, wax beans, red potatoes, carrot and garlic, I added a bit of water and copious amounts of vegetable buillion paste.  It was very strong and salty, to the point I got nervous that I had added too much.  But once the veggies started to simmer on a very low heat, and I added tomatoes, the sweet began to blend quite nicely with the savory salty broth.  I accompanied the stew with some lovely raisin-pecan bread from Stone Circle Bakery.  At dinner, B inquired about the soup I was serving.  When I corrected her, saying it was actually a stew, she challenged me right back.  I tried to explain that a stew is like soup, but less...well, soupy!  That was a lame explanation even to my own ears so I didn't corrrect her when she referred to dinner as soup for the rest of the evening.

Snippets...Out of the Mouths of Babes

So, a quick catch up...we adopted two dogs (yes, two...!) this past weekend--a yellow lab we've named Erie, and a black lab/pit bull puppy we've named AuSable.

Anyway, tonight while getting B ready for bed, the dogs wandered into the room.  B sat up and said, "Mom, Erie's in the bedroom!"  Since I don't usually allow the dogs in the bedrooms, B felt a need to tattle on their minor indiscretion.  "I know, honey."  Just as I was turning around to scoot Erie out the door, B said, "Mom, Erie's not talking...she needs batteries!"

Evidently my daughter is a techie gadget girl in the making.

Leftovers

While Adam was in town, we took a hiatus from making healthy, homecooked meals because a) Uncle Scott was also in town, so we took him out for dinner, and b) my kitchen became dismantled during all the packing and moving, so cooking at home wasn't really an option.

Now that we're back to our routine (and have had our usual Wednesday stop at the Allen St Farmer's Market), dinner at home abounds once more.  However, so do leftovers.  Personally, I hate leftovers.  I definitely am very American in my eating preferences, in that I want to have something different to eat everyday.  But, since I hate to waste and am trying to instill good habits in B, I used some of last week's taco ingredients and put a slightly more Mexican twist on things.  Sauteed onions, tomatoes, peppers and garlic along with refried beans and salsa (with a squirt of lime for good measure; hence, the scowl on her face...) made for some tasty leftover tacos.  Of course, now there are leftovers of the leftovers...