The healing power of brownies

{Uriah & Finneaus | 1.7.11}

I am sick.

I got that stupid flu shot and I'm telling you what...I'm not sure that it works.  Actually, I probably got these grody germs from the pug-nosed baby who has been sleeping with a pillow under his mattress for the past week to help prop him up so that he can breathe easier (it's either that or sleeping on the couch with the mama - and even then there is no rest for the weary.).

I am miserable.  I am sneezy.  I am stuffy.  My nose is so red I look like I've been hitting the bottle daily for the past 12 years. 

And Finn is a big boy.  He can hold his own bottle now and he has been having one "meal" a day of rice cereal for the past two weeks.  He opens his mouth when the spoon comes near him and he's gotten to the point where more cereal makes it into his belly than onto his clothes.  My baby boy is growing up faster than I even thought possible (even though everyone told me that it would go quickly, so I feel like I was at least prepared.  It's too fast, though!)

So, to make up for the sickies and the big babies and the fact that Abby has started choir and wants to regal us nightly with her latest singing lesson, I made brownies.  Well, I made them Sunday, but I have been benefiting from their healing power all week long.  

Nose stuffy?  Eat a brownie.  
Abby's singing the same song for the 342nd time?  Enjoy it with a brownie.
Finn's driving himself to daycare?  Finish off the pan.
 
Farm Stand Brownies
Bon Appetite Magazine
Makes 9

1 ¾ cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
½ cup (1 stick) butter
1 tablespoon instant espresso powder
1 tablespoon vanilla

¼ cup plus 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
scant 1 cup walnuts, roughly chopped
2 large eggs
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Line an 8” square metal baking pan with foil; generously butter the foil.  Place chocolate and butter in medium saucepan.  Stir constantly over medium-low heat until melted and smooth.  Add espresso powder and vanilla; stir to blend.  Cool 15 minutes.

Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt in a small bowl.  Add walnuts; toss to coat.  Whisk eggs and sugar in a large bowl just to blend.  Add chocolate mixture; stir just until blended.  Add flour mixture; to chocolate mixture; stir just to blend.  Pour into prepared pan.

Bake brownies until tester inserted into center comes out with moist crumbs still attatched, about 25-35 minutes.  Cool brownies completely in pan.  Cover and chill 6 hours.  Invert brownies and peel off foil.  Cut brownies into 9 squares.

{Uriah & Finneaus | 1.7.11}

I am sick.

I got that stupid flu shot and I'm telling you what...I'm not sure that it works.  Actually, I probably got these grody germs from the pug-nosed baby who has been sleeping with a pillow under his mattress for the past week to help prop him up so that he can breathe easier (it's either that or sleeping on the couch with the mama - and even then there is no rest for the weary.).

I am miserable.  I am sneezy.  I am stuffy.  My nose is so red I look like I've been hitting the bottle daily for the past 12 years. 

And Finn is a big boy.  He can hold his own bottle now and he has been having one "meal" a day of rice cereal for the past two weeks.  He opens his mouth when the spoon comes near him and he's gotten to the point where more cereal makes it into his belly than onto his clothes.  My baby boy is growing up faster than I even thought possible (even though everyone told me that it would go quickly, so I feel like I was at least prepared.  It's too fast, though!)

So, to make up for the sickies and the big babies and the fact that Abby has started choir and wants to regal us nightly with her latest singing lesson, I made brownies.  Well, I made them Sunday, but I have been benefiting from their healing power all week long.  

Nose stuffy?  Eat a brownie.  
Abby's singing the same song for the 342nd time?  Enjoy it with a brownie.
Finn's driving himself to daycare?  Finish off the pan.
 
Farm Stand Brownies
Bon Appetite Magazine
Makes 9

1 ¾ cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
½ cup (1 stick) butter
1 tablespoon instant espresso powder
1 tablespoon vanilla

¼ cup plus 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
scant 1 cup walnuts, roughly chopped
2 large eggs
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Line an 8” square metal baking pan with foil; generously butter the foil.  Place chocolate and butter in medium saucepan.  Stir constantly over medium-low heat until melted and smooth.  Add espresso powder and vanilla; stir to blend.  Cool 15 minutes.

Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt in a small bowl.  Add walnuts; toss to coat.  Whisk eggs and sugar in a large bowl just to blend.  Add chocolate mixture; stir just until blended.  Add flour mixture; to chocolate mixture; stir just to blend.  Pour into prepared pan.

Bake brownies until tester inserted into center comes out with moist crumbs still attatched, about 25-35 minutes.  Cool brownies completely in pan.  Cover and chill 6 hours.  Invert brownies and peel off foil.  Cut brownies into 9 squares.

Pug nosed babies and losers

Yesterday I had big plans...I was going to start my spring cleaning.  

What?  It's not spring yet? 

Too bad.  I have this entire house to get through by spring.  It's part of my New Year's resolution to simplify and be more organized.  Finn's room is full of random stuff leftover from when we moved...almost an entire year ago...you know, before he was even born; some of the stuff hanging out in his room isn't even his!  And I need to make my work-space a little bit more workable (right now it's a catch-all for everything I don't have the time/energy to find a home for or shred or toss).  And that means that my work space probably can no longer be housed in a room full of baby toys and baby clothes and even though the sweet smell of baby is intoxicating, it means that I don't get much done when I'm in there aside from snacking on those baby cheeks.

However...these big plans were made before Finn started sounding like a pug again; before he and I had a somewhat non-restful night sitting up on the couch because every time he tried to breathe he woke himself up.  And every time he woke himself up, he also woke his mama up.  And there is nothing worse than having an unhappy, un-rested baby.  Or an unhappy, un-rested mama.

So, instead of taking him to daycare like I had planned so that I could bust by buns cleaning, we slept off and on until 6 in the morning, when I laid him back in his crib for an hour, and then we had breakfast and played until exhaustion took over and we both took a morning nap for 2 hours.

I did accomplish a couple of things...I got a menu planned for the week, made chicken stock (homemade chicken stock using the whole chicken I roasted off on Sunday.  My house smelled amazing and I think Finn feels better just from inhaling the healing powers of chicken stock!) and then I used that to make chicken tortilla soup (awesome, if I do say so myself).  I talked with the doctor's office and the insurance people FOR 45 MINUTES (I deal with insurance daily.  I know my shit.  I know my benefits and I know my kid's benefits.  You cannot get anything by me.  And you certainly cannot tell me that paying for my child's immunizations and well-child exam is going to be my responsibility.  I will be up in your business until you get it figured out.) So I was a little bit productive - just not as productive as I wanted to be.

I watched the season premier of The Biggest Loser last night and decided that I want to be a loser, too!  So, after I had a mild (some husbands would say major?) melt-down, Uriah blew up my big old exercise ball, I plotted out a running route and I have a plan.  

I am done talking about it.  I'm doing it.  And if public humiliations is what it takes to kick my butt in gear, I may just post my weight, too.  Seems to work for The Biggest Loser, after all. 

Yesterday I had big plans...I was going to start my spring cleaning.  

What?  It's not spring yet? 

Too bad.  I have this entire house to get through by spring.  It's part of my New Year's resolution to simplify and be more organized.  Finn's room is full of random stuff leftover from when we moved...almost an entire year ago...you know, before he was even born; some of the stuff hanging out in his room isn't even his!  And I need to make my work-space a little bit more workable (right now it's a catch-all for everything I don't have the time/energy to find a home for or shred or toss).  And that means that my work space probably can no longer be housed in a room full of baby toys and baby clothes and even though the sweet smell of baby is intoxicating, it means that I don't get much done when I'm in there aside from snacking on those baby cheeks.

However...these big plans were made before Finn started sounding like a pug again; before he and I had a somewhat non-restful night sitting up on the couch because every time he tried to breathe he woke himself up.  And every time he woke himself up, he also woke his mama up.  And there is nothing worse than having an unhappy, un-rested baby.  Or an unhappy, un-rested mama.

So, instead of taking him to daycare like I had planned so that I could bust by buns cleaning, we slept off and on until 6 in the morning, when I laid him back in his crib for an hour, and then we had breakfast and played until exhaustion took over and we both took a morning nap for 2 hours.

I did accomplish a couple of things...I got a menu planned for the week, made chicken stock (homemade chicken stock using the whole chicken I roasted off on Sunday.  My house smelled amazing and I think Finn feels better just from inhaling the healing powers of chicken stock!) and then I used that to make chicken tortilla soup (awesome, if I do say so myself).  I talked with the doctor's office and the insurance people FOR 45 MINUTES (I deal with insurance daily.  I know my shit.  I know my benefits and I know my kid's benefits.  You cannot get anything by me.  And you certainly cannot tell me that paying for my child's immunizations and well-child exam is going to be my responsibility.  I will be up in your business until you get it figured out.) So I was a little bit productive - just not as productive as I wanted to be.

I watched the season premier of The Biggest Loser last night and decided that I want to be a loser, too!  So, after I had a mild (some husbands would say major?) melt-down, Uriah blew up my big old exercise ball, I plotted out a running route and I have a plan.  

I am done talking about it.  I'm doing it.  And if public humiliations is what it takes to kick my butt in gear, I may just post my weight, too.  Seems to work for The Biggest Loser, after all. 

I love Robert Frost.

I transferred schools my junior year of college.

I thought I was going to get a secondary education degree.  Then I changed my mind and took some business classes.  And, well, that didn't suite me, so I changed my again and decided to get an elementary education degree, only to realize that I'd have to stay in school at least an extra year, and Lord knew I didn't have time or energy for one more year of school, so I went for the plain, old, get-it-done-quickly English degree.  And this is the extent of my degree-usage, right here on this blog.  Wow.

Anyway, I dreaded the poetry class that I had to take to get a creative writing minor.  I was certain that it was going to be the worst class ever.  I suck at writing poetry and I don't always like to read it because I think that the meanings are lost on me (unless it's Shel Silverstein, I really get his stuff!) and I wonder why people can't just say that their sad instead of saying that the sky is falling down upon the sparrow's head or something equally deep.


And then I took Introduction to Poetry (or Poetry 101 or Creative Writing: Poetry; whatever it was called.  I still have the syllabus, so I could look it up.  But it's in Minnesota.) and it was as though I was given permission to write quirky poems that have nonsensical meaning.  Poems that make people laugh and not want to stick their heads in gas ovens.  And I learned that it was okay to not get a poem, but still enjoy it for the lyrical way the author's words flowed.


I took an advanced poetry class with that same professor the following year.  I have never missed college as much as when I think about my writing classes and the creative freedom that they allowed in a somewhat structured environment and the constructive criticism that fellow student writers gave, pushing me to be a better writer.

Today, because it's officially January and officially winter and officially cold, and because I officially miss the snow in Minnesota, here is one of my favorite poems.

Happy Monday, friends! 

{Avon, Minnesota | 12.26.10}

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

I transferred schools my junior year of college.

I thought I was going to get a secondary education degree.  Then I changed my mind and took some business classes.  And, well, that didn't suite me, so I changed my again and decided to get an elementary education degree, only to realize that I'd have to stay in school at least an extra year, and Lord knew I didn't have time or energy for one more year of school, so I went for the plain, old, get-it-done-quickly English degree.  And this is the extent of my degree-usage, right here on this blog.  Wow.

Anyway, I dreaded the poetry class that I had to take to get a creative writing minor.  I was certain that it was going to be the worst class ever.  I suck at writing poetry and I don't always like to read it because I think that the meanings are lost on me (unless it's Shel Silverstein, I really get his stuff!) and I wonder why people can't just say that their sad instead of saying that the sky is falling down upon the sparrow's head or something equally deep.


And then I took Introduction to Poetry (or Poetry 101 or Creative Writing: Poetry; whatever it was called.  I still have the syllabus, so I could look it up.  But it's in Minnesota.) and it was as though I was given permission to write quirky poems that have nonsensical meaning.  Poems that make people laugh and not want to stick their heads in gas ovens.  And I learned that it was okay to not get a poem, but still enjoy it for the lyrical way the author's words flowed.


I took an advanced poetry class with that same professor the following year.  I have never missed college as much as when I think about my writing classes and the creative freedom that they allowed in a somewhat structured environment and the constructive criticism that fellow student writers gave, pushing me to be a better writer.

Today, because it's officially January and officially winter and officially cold, and because I officially miss the snow in Minnesota, here is one of my favorite poems.

Happy Monday, friends! 

{Avon, Minnesota | 12.26.10}

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Then & Now

When my brother and sister-in-law got married (11 million years ago), they made a deal with each other to split their holidays between their families.  If they're with her family for Thanksgiving one year, they're with our family for Christmas.  Then, the following year, they're in Minnesota for Thanksgiving and with her family for Christmas.  So, when Emily and I moved to Missouri, we decided to adopt the same holiday schedule, making sure that our holiday in Minnesota coincided with Aaron and Angie's so that for at least one holiday a year we are all together in Minnesota with our parents.  So far it has worked, and I think that each of our families likes having us exclusively for an entire holiday weekend. 

The last time we were in Minnesota for Christmas it was 2008 and it was cold.  Really, really cold.

Back then Dane was the baby in the house.  He was just over a year old and he was too little to go outside and play.  He wanted to, though.  Lord, did that boy want to be outside playing with his cousin.  And I think that Abby would have welcomed a companion - a sidekick to wade through waist high snow with.

{Abby & Dane | 12.24.08}

This year, however, he was outside nearly as much as Abby.  They went sledding and built a snow fort and tramped all over my parents back yard.  If the snow had been stickier they would have made a snowman and had a snowball fight, too.  I know that this is probably the last season that Abby really has time and patience for playing with her cousin.  There are 7 years between them, afterall, and already her interests lie more in the Twilight saga and Justin Bieber and boys rather than Toy Story and G.I. Joes and Hungry! Hungry! Hippos.

But for just a little bit over Christmas, she stopped bieng a surly tween and slid back to being a kid.  She snuggled on the couch with Dane and watched a movie.  She let him take her temperature and check her reflexes with his new doctor kit.  And she got down on the floor and played hours of Lincoln Logs. 


{Abby &  Dane | 12.24.10}

She wants to grow up so badly.  She wants to stay up later and do her hair and I'm sure she sneaks tinted lip-gloss to school.  She wants to sit at the grown-up table and have grown-up conversations and she wants to be releveant.  It's not easy being in that middle spot...not really able to contribute to adult conversations but too big for the babies in the house.

She's trying, though, and I guess I should be grateful that she even wants to participate in family functions.  It won't be too much longer and she'll want to bring her boyfriend over for family dinner (Lord have mercy, I think I'm going to have to keep Uriah away from any would-be suitors!  They won't make it out the door alive.) and Friday night will be spent at the movies with her friends.

I wonder what the picture will look like in two years when we're in Minnesota again for Christmas...with a teenager and a 5 year old and a 2 year old.

When my brother and sister-in-law got married (11 million years ago), they made a deal with each other to split their holidays between their families.  If they're with her family for Thanksgiving one year, they're with our family for Christmas.  Then, the following year, they're in Minnesota for Thanksgiving and with her family for Christmas.  So, when Emily and I moved to Missouri, we decided to adopt the same holiday schedule, making sure that our holiday in Minnesota coincided with Aaron and Angie's so that for at least one holiday a year we are all together in Minnesota with our parents.  So far it has worked, and I think that each of our families likes having us exclusively for an entire holiday weekend. 

The last time we were in Minnesota for Christmas it was 2008 and it was cold.  Really, really cold.

Back then Dane was the baby in the house.  He was just over a year old and he was too little to go outside and play.  He wanted to, though.  Lord, did that boy want to be outside playing with his cousin.  And I think that Abby would have welcomed a companion - a sidekick to wade through waist high snow with.

{Abby & Dane | 12.24.08}

This year, however, he was outside nearly as much as Abby.  They went sledding and built a snow fort and tramped all over my parents back yard.  If the snow had been stickier they would have made a snowman and had a snowball fight, too.  I know that this is probably the last season that Abby really has time and patience for playing with her cousin.  There are 7 years between them, afterall, and already her interests lie more in the Twilight saga and Justin Bieber and boys rather than Toy Story and G.I. Joes and Hungry! Hungry! Hippos.

But for just a little bit over Christmas, she stopped bieng a surly tween and slid back to being a kid.  She snuggled on the couch with Dane and watched a movie.  She let him take her temperature and check her reflexes with his new doctor kit.  And she got down on the floor and played hours of Lincoln Logs. 


{Abby &  Dane | 12.24.10}

She wants to grow up so badly.  She wants to stay up later and do her hair and I'm sure she sneaks tinted lip-gloss to school.  She wants to sit at the grown-up table and have grown-up conversations and she wants to be releveant.  It's not easy being in that middle spot...not really able to contribute to adult conversations but too big for the babies in the house.

She's trying, though, and I guess I should be grateful that she even wants to participate in family functions.  It won't be too much longer and she'll want to bring her boyfriend over for family dinner (Lord have mercy, I think I'm going to have to keep Uriah away from any would-be suitors!  They won't make it out the door alive.) and Friday night will be spent at the movies with her friends.

I wonder what the picture will look like in two years when we're in Minnesota again for Christmas...with a teenager and a 5 year old and a 2 year old.

Cousins

Uriah's mom likes to have themed-holiday parties.  Yes, that's right...themes.  For the holiday.  Because apparently Jesus' birthday is not enough of a theme.

Last year we had a Mexican themed Christmas complete with two different kinds of tacos, fajitas, espinaca dip from a local Mexican restaurant and Cheesey Mexcian Rice (if you've never had Cheesey Mexican Rice, I implore you to stop what you're doing and go buy some.  That means right now.  It. Is. Delicious.  And I love it.).  This year for Christmas, we had an Italian theme.  Think every carb-addicts dream: lasagna, manicaotti, rigitoni, some other pasta dish, garlic bread and yet another pasta dish...and a salad (Vegetable? Check!). 

Anyway, at some point between the carb-induced coma and the present frenzy, we tried to get some cousin pictures.

We started with Finneaus and Ava-Rose.  There are 13 weeks between these two pals - Ava is older, although it's hard to tell because she's a petite little thing and Finn is growing.  Quickly.  I'm looking forward to seeing how their friendship plays out in the years to come...I foresee lots of G.I. Joes riding around on My Little Ponies.

It's kind of hard to get four kiddos to look in the same direction at the same time; especially if one of those kiddos can't sit up by himself, one has more energy than he knows how to channel and sweet baby girl is squished between everyone.  Abs, of course, was trying to get this picture over and done with as quickly as possible so that she could get away from the drooling and go back to watching cable television.

Aren't they cuties?  Still not all looking in the same direction at the same time, but I think we managed to keep everyone upright, not drooling or puking and nobody was screaming.  I consider that success these days.


{Abby, Ava-Rose, Cooper & Finneaus | 12.18.10}

I'm pretty sure that I gained a billion and a half pounds from dinner.  I had to unbutton the top button of my pants and do some deep breathing exercises.  I also may have used my son as an excuse to take a little nap after the present-opening frenzy (which included a Justin Beiber doll - score!). 

And then I made a bedtime snack of pasta with a side of pasta. 

Uriah's mom likes to have themed-holiday parties.  Yes, that's right...themes.  For the holiday.  Because apparently Jesus' birthday is not enough of a theme.

Last year we had a Mexican themed Christmas complete with two different kinds of tacos, fajitas, espinaca dip from a local Mexican restaurant and Cheesey Mexcian Rice (if you've never had Cheesey Mexican Rice, I implore you to stop what you're doing and go buy some.  That means right now.  It. Is. Delicious.  And I love it.).  This year for Christmas, we had an Italian theme.  Think every carb-addicts dream: lasagna, manicaotti, rigitoni, some other pasta dish, garlic bread and yet another pasta dish...and a salad (Vegetable? Check!). 

Anyway, at some point between the carb-induced coma and the present frenzy, we tried to get some cousin pictures.

We started with Finneaus and Ava-Rose.  There are 13 weeks between these two pals - Ava is older, although it's hard to tell because she's a petite little thing and Finn is growing.  Quickly.  I'm looking forward to seeing how their friendship plays out in the years to come...I foresee lots of G.I. Joes riding around on My Little Ponies.

It's kind of hard to get four kiddos to look in the same direction at the same time; especially if one of those kiddos can't sit up by himself, one has more energy than he knows how to channel and sweet baby girl is squished between everyone.  Abs, of course, was trying to get this picture over and done with as quickly as possible so that she could get away from the drooling and go back to watching cable television.

Aren't they cuties?  Still not all looking in the same direction at the same time, but I think we managed to keep everyone upright, not drooling or puking and nobody was screaming.  I consider that success these days.


{Abby, Ava-Rose, Cooper & Finneaus | 12.18.10}

I'm pretty sure that I gained a billion and a half pounds from dinner.  I had to unbutton the top button of my pants and do some deep breathing exercises.  I also may have used my son as an excuse to take a little nap after the present-opening frenzy (which included a Justin Beiber doll - score!). 

And then I made a bedtime snack of pasta with a side of pasta.