update
I nursed the bug to sleep--twice--and when she was, yet again, awake and screamy, I put her in the swing. Poor overtired child.
I made really wonderful Chocolate Chocolate-Chip Mint Cookies yesterday from Mollie Katzen's new cookbook, one for adult beginners called Get Cooking. Tonight for dinner we had black beans and rice (sort of) from Vegan Lunch Box Around the World. I say "sort of" because the recipe was on the front and back of one page and Bear read the spices from the *next* recipe and added them. So we had black beans, rice, coconut milk, and scallions with chili powder, cumin, coriander, and turmeric instead of the intended thyme, cinnamon, and allspice. Oh, well. A couple of nights ago we had the Asian Portobellos from the same cookbook. The mushrooms were baked in a marinade of garlic, ginger, Chinese five-spice powder, coriander, mirin, tamari, orange juice, and toasted sesame oil. They were really good. We had them with brown jasmine rice and steamed broccoli. (My steamer basket? Is from 1973. It belonged to my uncle's mother once upon a time.)
Rowan is trying to roll over (and not just from her back to her side, which she has done since birth). Instead she winds up wiggling her way around in a sort of circle, while her head stays in the same place, as if she's a compass. I left her asleep on a quilt on the floor upstairs (where she'd been practicing) and when I heard her squawk and went to get her, she, again, wasn't where I'd left her; she'd scooted over towards the leg of the guest bed and got stuck. Poor bug.
Today I dug out the baby book my aunt gave me and worked on filling it in. I already can't remember what Rowan weighed at her first couple of doctor visits, or when, exactly, she began smiling.
I made really wonderful Chocolate Chocolate-Chip Mint Cookies yesterday from Mollie Katzen's new cookbook, one for adult beginners called Get Cooking. Tonight for dinner we had black beans and rice (sort of) from Vegan Lunch Box Around the World. I say "sort of" because the recipe was on the front and back of one page and Bear read the spices from the *next* recipe and added them. So we had black beans, rice, coconut milk, and scallions with chili powder, cumin, coriander, and turmeric instead of the intended thyme, cinnamon, and allspice. Oh, well. A couple of nights ago we had the Asian Portobellos from the same cookbook. The mushrooms were baked in a marinade of garlic, ginger, Chinese five-spice powder, coriander, mirin, tamari, orange juice, and toasted sesame oil. They were really good. We had them with brown jasmine rice and steamed broccoli. (My steamer basket? Is from 1973. It belonged to my uncle's mother once upon a time.)
Rowan is trying to roll over (and not just from her back to her side, which she has done since birth). Instead she winds up wiggling her way around in a sort of circle, while her head stays in the same place, as if she's a compass. I left her asleep on a quilt on the floor upstairs (where she'd been practicing) and when I heard her squawk and went to get her, she, again, wasn't where I'd left her; she'd scooted over towards the leg of the guest bed and got stuck. Poor bug.
Today I dug out the baby book my aunt gave me and worked on filling it in. I already can't remember what Rowan weighed at her first couple of doctor visits, or when, exactly, she began smiling.