Solstice Greetings.

Twelve weeks old.

Our Ziggy can be so serious.

Wearing the sweater that was knit for Daddy Booty when he was a boy.

Boy Meets Claus.

Tortilla Soup.

I had a group of friends over last night and served them my tortilla lime soup for supper. I promised to post my recipe for them, so the below is a variation thereof.

What I served last night had been made the day before (soups are nearly ALWAYS better the second day, I find) and was made with a whole hen and no pre-made veggie stock, just the chicken itself. I also, for flavor's sake this time around (w/ the quick post baby cook method) added a couple cubes of chicken bouillon. I sauteed onion and garlic in olive oil until just tender and added that to the pot once I got my hen deboned and cubed.

You can keep eating on this soup for days by adding more liquid and more tomato, tortillas and veggies as you like. Throwing in some black beans gives it a new punch. Also, corn niblets.



Sopa de Lima

*Make this recipe as spicy as your family or friends like; there are no exact measurements since I rarely cook that way--- intuit it, you'll have a tasty and hearty meal and you CAN sub all veg stock for the meat. Moosewood has a nice recipe for that, but you can go with a variation on this if you're comfortable going more freeform.

Make stock with chicken pieces (i used 3 thighs since that's what was on hand) and saved veggie peels & butts (onion, celery, carrot, etc.) Cook slowly for a an hour or two. Cool and refrigerate overnight.

Second day: strain your stock. Discard the veggie skins and butts. Skin, debone and cube your chicken pieces. Put in a pot w/ the stock (a crock pot works nicely if you want to be hands for awhile, which is what I did when I came home for lunch briefly and hopped up my basic soup in a matter of a few minutes for a longer and safe simmer).

Chop or tear up a stack (1" high) of corn tortillas; add to pot. Add two cans of stewed tomatoes, halved and / or chopped, along w/ juice. (You can also use good homegrowns if they're in season or frozen quarters from the previous summer if you've still got some). Mince up several cloves of garlic to taste and add to pot. If you didn't use lots of onion in your stock, dice some up and add to pot. Poblano peppers, diced. (I used some I'd cut & frozen back last summer). Add sea salt and black pepper to taste. Also: cumin, chile powder and if you have it, chipotle and / or ancho powder. Let the soup cook down until tortilla pieces are breaking up and thickening your soup.

Call your beloved to make a store run for more cilantro and fresh limes. When you get home from work or wherever, taste your soup. Add sea salt, pepper, cumin, etc. as needed.
Add juice of three or four limes, depending on how tangy you like your soup. Coarsely chop cilantro, maybe 1/2 to 3/4 C. Add to your soup and shortly, it'll be ready to serve w/ a dollop of sour cream, seasoned w/ lime juice, chile powder, cumin and sea salt. Mmm.

Wedding Cookies.

The Mexican Wedding Cookie goes by many a name. Danish Wedding Cookies. Snowballs. Crescents. Sometimes they are rounded balls, other times crescent moon shaped; all are delicious and traditional: a holiday favorite that's a simple butter cookie, shortbread in nature, rolled in confectioner's sugar. Mmm.

Growing up, we always had them at Christmas time and simply called them Wedding Cookies. They're great fun to make and small hands have super success at rolling the cookies out into little balls, and once baked and cooling, dredging them in sugar. We so enjoyed making them with Diggy when we were children. They're fantastic with a mug of cocoa, and we usually left some out on a plate for Santa.

After years of encountering Wedding Cookies only on the odd year, I discovered that these humble little nuggets are My Beloved Mister's most favorite holiday cookie. So. Let the baking commence! My siblings and folks have been delighted to have these cookies around again. To me: they taste like childhood, like innocence and like Christmas. They also smell wonderful during the baking process, filling the air with the scent of goodness.

Still a newlywed, really, I've enjoyed learning that the Mexican Wedding Cookie symbolizes marriage: the nuts are the inevitable bumps a couple will encounter, and the powdered sugar covering is the sweetness that derives from a union hard won.

This year, as mentioned previous, I participated in a cookie exchange with a group of women here in Nashville, and naturally, I chose to make Mexican Wedding Cookies to share. These mamas know how to throw down, too! Julie welcomed us into her lovely home and twenty someodd mamas arrived bearing 10 dozen cookies apiece, plus non-ambulatory babies, pregnant bellies swelling, and a plethora of goods for the super holiday version of the mama swap-a-rama, which included everything from receiving blankets, books and clothing to toys, baby gear and small appliances. It was all this mama could do to get babe and cookies and a dish to share on the road to the party, so my swap-a-rama goods will have to make an appearance another time. But Ziggy and I enjoyed ourselves thoroughly-- pictures courtesy of hostess, Julie, including a sleeping Ziggy in the sling.

As promised, here follows my basic cookie recipe; let me know how yours turn out!!

Mexican Wedding Cookies

1 pound soft unsalted butter
1 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons vanilla
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups finely chopped pecans
5 cups all purpose flour, fluffed & sifted
Powdered sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Oven toast pecans (this adds a deeper yummier flavor). Beat butter and powdered sugar in mixer until light and fluffy, about 10 to 15 minutes. Add vanilla, salt and pecans. Remove from mixer and stir in flour by hand being careful not to overmix. Form into balls about the size of small walnuts and place on a parchment lined OR ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 10 to 12 minutes or until cookies are slightly browning on bottom. Remove upon the first sign of color and set on a rack to cool. When cool to touch place in a bowl with powdered sugar on top and bottom and toss gently. Occasionally toss or sift with sugar while cooling, trying to get as much sugar as possible to stick. When cold, place cookies in airtight container and cover until ready to serve.

This recipe makes about 4 dozen cookies.

Big Zig in the Village.

Our Ziggy is fifteen pounds and twenty-five inches of baby delight. Not the doll kind, but the honest to goddess shitting, pissing, spitting up, laughing, crying, cooing, drooling kind. He is amazing and wonderful good. Daddy Booty is proud to note that Zig is at the toppermost of the charts: 95th percentile for weight and head circumference (no surprise there, as the Booty family's got back and sizable melons!) and the 97th percentile of height (again, no surprise there as Mama & Daddy Booty are taller than your average bear and Papa Joe and Aunt Ingrid are lovely tall drinks of water throwing their genes on out there from somewhere primitive and wondrous.)

All of which is to say that Ziggy, along with his good friend Wren (seen to the above with her mama, Em) is about to outgrow his infant car seat. Whew. He's got a mere inch left of length before he's too long, and five pounds 'til he's too heavy. I'm dreaming up ways to finance the Britax Marathon. Not only is it rated so very highly (and has a longer use time for a boy of ours' stature than the Britax Roundabout), but since Zig's primary transport is 15 year old Maggie the mini van, seems the boy should benefit from some superior innovations in baby constraint engineering. What say you? Weigh in on the subject of car seats your own self in the comments section. I'm keen to hear what you more experienced parents have found to work for your families.

Our big boy checked out splendidly at last week's slightly delayed two month well-baby visit. And his post-op follow up with the good Doc at Vanderbilt Children's Hospital surgical pediatric office confirmed Ziggy's good health. His incision has healed beautifully and as evidenced by his growth, our boy continues to eat well (oh, nursing has been our salvation!). Furthermore, he's marking his development with all the anticipated milestones, now riding front facing in the Baby Bjorn or hip slung and confident in the sling. Latest developments include a slightly more organically organized sleep schedule, attentive play with incredible visual tracking, and the discovery of hands -- oh! they are everywhere: on Mama's bosom, in Mama's hair, tugging Daddy's shirt, and most of all, in Ziggy's mouth. There is perhaps a 1-2% possibility that Ziggy will be revisited by the malrotation with volvulous issues; pretty good odds, those. And of course, it's possible that the adhesions will create complications, but for now, we're feeling relieved and accomplished with good input AND output in the correct direction, meaning of course: poop. Remarkable how so very much of my daily life revolves around shit. Look for an entry all about doo doo in the near future.

**For you parents of small children who don't know or can make use of a reminder, tuck this piece of information away in that place from which you draw at the time of need: anytime your babe is puking up green bile, it is likely to be some type of bowel obstruction-- get thee and thy most precious wee bairn to a children's hospital post haste. Be prepared to be barraged with information and hold fast to yourself to advocate for your child as only YOU can. Only YOU are the expert on YOUR child, and s/he is NOT a condition or a case number, but your own beloved family member.

Following our recent episode, I've been mighty watchful of what goes in and what goes out, and highly attuned to our son's higher needs, both resulting from his indubitably frightening experiences and from his more recent developmental dictates. A proponent of attachment parenting and of the continuum concept, Mama Booty has simply stepped up her game. And it's been very important to me not to just spout about the Village, but to LIVE in and make use of the Village. Ziggy's Diggy has been a large part of his life since she spent a full month (split into bits) with us during the first two months of Zig's existence outside the womb. She has held him and loved on him, sung to him, changed diapers and been a force of great comfort and sustenance in every way but breast feeding. I'm so pleased that they've had the opportunity to bond so. The first time(s) I left Ziggy in the care of someone, it was Diggy, my own mother in whom I placed my trust for child minding. These were the times early on when I had to return to briefly return to hospital for treatement of my incision infection and didn't wish to expose our newborn futher to a place of much illness. During his hospital stay, he's had comforting and some spelling Mama time from his Aunt Dana and from Ms. Booty's sister by friendship, Mama Loca, seen above. And recently, Mama Booty has turned Ziggy over to the complete care of his father for brief forays out into the world away from my child. These are, I believe, bigger steps for ME than for the babe. I've simply felt it necessary to make myself take this leap sooner rather than later, as I believe the longer I wait to make the jump, the more difficult it will become.

To that end, when Ziggy seemed perched at a cold's edge yesterday and Bert the dog had his needs, too, I accessed care for my boy from neighbor and dear friend, Kaki. (Kaki and her husband, Bill, officiated our wedding and Bill is a longtime compadre of my Mister, even predating his Nashville residence.) Kaki happened to be home yesterday and was more than glad to snuggle up with Ziggy for a nap while I took Bert on an unencumbered walk and romp in the park. All in all, it was a win win win situation: Ziggy got some hands on Village time, Kaki got baby love. Bert got my undivided attention and the rough-housing he craves for the first time since before I got pregnant nearly a year ago. Mama Booty benefitted from knowing all this worked well and that the Village is a dear good thing right from the start, and that the Beloved Mister would be relieved of what he views as dog 'duty,' freeing him up to be more present for his Babe and his babe. Yay!

Our weekend placed Ziggy firmly in the Village as well, with trek out to the where the other half lives for a lovely spread that was Daddy Booty's work Christmas Party. Ziggy enjoyed the view from his perch on Mama Booty's hip, tucked into his safe place in the sling. We nursed in the parlor turned cloak room and overtook it for nappy changes as well, visited repeatedly by my Mister's co-workers, all of whom were delighted to make Ziggy's acquaintance. I was glad to say thank you in person to these folks who were so supportive at the time of Ziggy's birth and then in the ensuing hard time of Ziggy's illness. I'd brought a hostess gift for the board member who opened her home to us, but upon experiencing the lavish manse, it seemed but a mere gumball in the face of her offering to us, so I opted to follow up with a simple thank you note instead. My Mister laughingly agreed that my mere trinket registered on the gumball level in the face of the place we found ourselves Friday night.

And on Sunday, my boy and I joined with the Nashville Mamas for their annual cookie exchange. We made my Mister's favorite holiday cookie and one I've been making and eating since my own childhood: Mexican Wedding Cookies. I say "we" but of course that means ME, with Zig on my hip or strapped to my chest and wearing a good bit of confectioner's sugar atop his mohawk. Our Baby Bjorn has a bit of the white flecks, still, and the nappy burp cloth I tucked inside the sling at the actual party bore the tell tale streak of chocolate before the night was out. I shall include the Mexican Wedding Cookie Recipe in an entry to follow, along with photos of cookie-ing with the Mamas, a group of women for whom I have become profoundly grateful. They're a good lot to round out our Village.

Our Ziggy will know that despite the sad bad meaness of the world, there are those to be counted on when there is need for sharing grief, celebration or daily duties. He will know that Mama and Daddy Booty are aided and abetted by their ample cadre of able minds, bodies and spirits of the Village it takes....

Leaning Into Now.

New parenthood is the ultimate in love and wonder.

It is also beyond exhausting.

My Beloved Mister is still working seven days a week. I miss him. He misses time with his son. I'm not sure his state of tired even allows for him to miss me, most days. Our adult interactions fall largely in the business category instead of the oh, we are fun lovers and dear friends category.

And I, as a fulltime SAHM-- stay at home mama (I'm still not digging that phrase so much) -- don't get a break from being, as Em put it last evening, so overwhelmingly present all the time. Present and present 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It's mind boggling, how great the love, how immense the wonder. How wholly the time swallows up a body-mind-spirit for this task at hand.

I am not complaining. My heart bursts with joy for the gift of our boy and as with when first I was pregnant with Ziggy, I feel born to this, fulfilling my destiny, even.

And too, I long for a wee break, and for more luxurious time / connection with my man.

For now, when at 3 AM I roll over to nurse the babe on the other side and my Beloved's hand crosses the invisible threshold of "our" side of the bed to grasp mine and squeeze, I squeeze back. The squeeze says everything we most need to convey, like "I miss you. I am sorry I was short with you and cranky, please forgive me. I know the mice in the kitchen scare you. I know your back aches and you need new shoes. I know you feel under appreciated.
My body misses yours, too. I am here as much as I ever was, even though everything is different. I do appreciate you. I love you as much as the stars and remember that there are more of those in the Universe than grains of sand. We are the log decomposing in the forest; there is that much energy, that much fire, even when it doesn't look like much of anything is happening at all until one day, there it is."

This is what it means to be a young family. This is what it means to be exhausted by love and to perpetually crave a nap and a half sandwich over the wild spontaneous every song is about US love that you still remember and wish for. And you're grateful to remember it and wish for it, even if you're too tired to respond should it come knocking at the door.

Hey, hey you, Mister Man of mine. Thanks for working so hard. You know when you told me the other night on your way to bed that you were glad we had the choice for our Ziggy to be home with me and that I was doing a good job? Did you know after you said that I wept? I did.

In the dark morning hours, when I squeeze your hand back, know that I am here, as much as I ever was. And know that I see the you of yous that often feels lost to the you of now. I love you across that bridge of time and circumstance. And I know that because of, or in spite of it all, you feel the same way.

Hold tight, darling. Squeeze and keep on squeezing. This life we are building prominently stars laundry and dirty diapers and payment plans and the absence of leisure, but this life we are living when we lean into now is all about the squeeze.

Oh, I Love My Boy.

We're off shortly for Ziggy's post hospital follow up with the pediatric surgery office.

His slightly delayed two month well baby visit this week noted him at 25 " long and 14 1/2 lbs. He is so beautiful and delightful, singing, cooing, carrying on conversations.

The Heart Is Too Big For The Body.

Mama Loca's Isabel & Ms. Booty Homemaker's Ziggy.

We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the heart too big for the body. --Ralph Waldo Emerson