Where did our weekend go? “Poof… all gone” as Sophia would say.
We had quite a busy weekend and are facing quite a busy September and October. First things first… inevitably (as this was really a matter of time), Sophia’s social calendar has eclipsed ours. Saturday afternoon marked a first birthday for her friend Anya whose parents hosted a soiree with one of the most delicious spreads I’ve seen in quite a long time. The Georgetown cupcakes didn’t detract from the delicious-ness, either.
Sophia’s daily outfitting consists of pants and a t-shirt, so this dress was quite fancy, fancy and I must say, my to much secret delight, she loved her girly outfit.
We continued our general business with an outing to Bethesda Row … where I was inspired to cook a gourmet dinner.
Let’s not kid ourselves, it looks a little monotone. However, it is anything but monotone in the mouth. Hubby’s famous pan-seared shrimp and my Israeli couscous with Dates, Pistachios, Cardamom and Ginger. A whole weekend, lots of fun, lots of yummy food and new experience with new friends — what else can you ask for?
I don’t have to go to school anymore. I remember dreaming about not havingto learn/study anymore and then after graduating, I suddenly wanted to go back. There is something invigorating about being in a university setting — young people, an atmosphere of being able to make a difference. At last, thanks to the wonders of the internet, I am able to partake in learning — studying what I want and when I want it free of charge.
I signed up and am very much enjoying a Coursera course called “A Brief History of Humankind“. … and naturally, when it rains, it pours so I also went to a class on Big Data last week taught by Cloudera. The Big Data class was for work and by the end of last week, I felt like my brain was going to explode. The 90 mile a day commute didn’t help and I am glad that I can watch my Coursera lectures anywhere and anytime. This isn’t my last first Coursera class and it won’t be my last. Have you taken a class recently or learned something new on your own?
Today marks 19 years since my family immigrated to the United States. Seeings as how I am thirty, this means that I have now spent almost twice as much time living here as I have in the former Soviet Union. I recounted my life in the Soviet Union and the decision along with the actual process of immigrating to the United States. I am not yet ready to recount my experience of my life in America between 1994-1998. I don’t remember much from those four years — a coping mechanism.
For all intents and purposes, we know how that period of my life ended and that the result is fairly successful. Sometimes, when faced with no other option but to “just deal”, I can be very Machiavellian in that the means justify the ends. The process was emotionally incredibly difficult. I haven’t shared my feelings, thoughts or emotions with many people and I am not sure when I will be ready to.
I have to say that while I am an American on the outside, I still retain a certain something, je ne sais quoi that is proof that I come from the “old world”… So without much further adieu, a few tidbits about me (in no particular order).
The first time I tasted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was in 1994 and before tasting it, I thought the combination was repugnant.
Nothing is less attractive than an underachiever – a child who is spoiled, who comes from great means and wastes it all.
I have no special place in my heart for sandwiches, pretzels, fried foods … only chocolate.
White chocolate is not chocolate — a pretender.
Successful people aren’t just those who are happy doing what they do but are those who are able to maintain a lifestyle they desire.
The first time I ever visited a Jewish Deli/Typical Deli and tasted a pastrami sandwich was last year.
Travel is essential in understanding how lucky you are to be an American.
I have very little tolerance for clutter, over indulgence and waste.
I have worked since I was 12… the earliest that I could, I wanted to.
I am finally in a good place in my life where I can or already have checked off quite a few boxes from my To-Do Before I Die List. Oh, yes, one more thing — I make lists.
I am of course here thanks to the people who brought me here (Mom and Dad) and the person who stood by me and always will (my sister) and the person who makes me want to be the best I can be (my husband). Last, but not (not ever) least, my in-laws have been our constant supporters and advisors.
I have and always will work as hard as I can and I now have the best reason to do so — Sophia.
I recently read George Saunders’s advice to this year’s graduates from Syracuse University and thought it worthwhile to share with anyone who hasn’t yet seen this. Unlike the majority of speeches that focus on success and hard work, this one focuses on kindness.
Thinking about my journey through life, I quickly realized that my most memorable moments are those where I shared or experienced simple acts of kindness. It is very easy to be ambivalent or look away, but it takes a little extra care, a little time to be kind. Saunders does not, of course, share with his audience how to do it — to be kinder. I believe that like most life’s lessons, kindness is best learned by example and from an early age.
And so, I’ll hug Sophia a little tighter, and tell her I love her a little more often. Instead of telling her “rules are rules” and offering no explanation because I am the parent, I’ll tell her “I understand” and offer her the best explanation possible even if she doesn’t fully understand … yet.
Someone said to me the other day that they wonder if I’d call my mom every day if I didn’t feel an obligation to do so. It didn’t take me more than a nanosecond to realize that of course I would. The best mothers are those who are strict, demanding, but most of all kind. Those mothers raise successful, proud, and kind children. They expect the world, but they give the world. They nurture with hugs, and kisses and chicken soup (the fresh, not store-bought kind).
I’m sentimental… and these make me smile. Not just because of the babe, but because this is my husband’s train table … the very one he played with when he was a young child.
I don’t mind that it shows a little bit of ware. It is just further evidence of countless hours spent by him and other kids in our family.
We had a great weekend! My sister and her family came to visit with us for the day on Saturday. It rained out our grand plans for a lazy day at the neighborhood pool, but the weather didn’t deter us from family time. My nephew recently, and for the first time ever, went away to overnight camp. He had a great time and the letters we got from there speak to that. My sister and brother-in-law received a letter almost every day. We found out on Saturday that the counselors would offer the kids canteen if they wrote a letter :-).
But I digress… while at camp and without being prompted by anyone, he bought Sophia a toy froggy with his own allowance. He presented Sophia with his offering as soon as he arrived at our house. She’s been fast friends with the Froggy and remembers it as soon as she wakes up. She also says “Sam brought it to you” when she picks it up. This is because we reminded her that he brought it to “you” when addressing her and she doesn’t know yet that she has to say “he brought it to me”.
His thoughtfulness — not about the gift — but rather that he thought about her while away reminded me of a quote from this lovely book. His care for Sophia is real and I know that it will never become unreal. In fact, it was never unreal to begin with.
Weekending is back or rather having a weekend at home and to ourselves is back. First things first… we just had to get to the farm to feed farm animals and, of course, pick fresh blackberries and peaches. Everybody helped!
Okay, I admit: I didn’t help feeding the barnyard animals. I was on a mission to pick blackberries while everyone else was feeding grass to the llama and its friend, the goat.
After a much-needed rest from the morning’s exertions, we renewed ourselves with guacamole and went on to cooking dinner. Big on resting and not cooking every weekday, we are into one-pot wonders these days.
We make a new dish every evening of the weekend and have leftovers for the first few days of the week. Saturday night’s feast was Lemon-Braised Chicken and Beans with Mint Pesto — except that I substituted pine nuts for almonds with Sophia in mind. She has had some tree nuts before and I wouldn’t mind giving her more, but didn’t want to just go ahead and put so much into the refreshing and cooling pesto.
Yum!
Speaking of barnyard-y … the heavy cream we source is local from cows who graze on open fields and is distinctly richer and more … well … barnyard-y. It made a mean custard-based vanilla ice-cream from my recently acquired ice cream book.
… is an exercise in generosity. It takes time to develop the menu, source the ingredients, clean the house, set the table, prepare the dishes, serve, and finally clean up. Feeding, whether three or twenty three, takes time and money. Both time and money are highly precious for all of us and so when hubby and I do make the time to host, we like to do it as best we can. Not just so we can check a to-do item, but so that we can enjoy the fruits of our labor and more importantly see that those who shared their time with us are enjoying it too.
This innate drive to satiate is at least in part a learned behavior. I learned it from my mother, and she from hers. I hope to pass it on to Sophia and along with it, some good family recipes. Speaking of … my parents met us at our house the evening we flew in from our recent sojourn to California. They extended the most generous offer, to bring over dinner and help with Sophia, and we would have been crazy to decline it. My mother brought her famous sous. After a long day’s travel, we instantly felt “at home”. Maybe it was because we both spent so much time at my parents’ house during our college years enjoying sous or maybe because when someone takes care of you on such a basic level, you always remember.
Choices — we all like to have them and we feel deprived when we don’t. The same holds true for children as much as it is the case for adults. A few months ago, we had given some serious thought to the type of parents we were or were going to be and it have decided that we always have been and always will be free range parents. What I mean by that is we’re not keen on being helicopter parents and we are not keen on constant active play with Sophia. There are of course some exceptions like TV … whether or not preferred, it has crept into our daily lives and we are tolerating it — for now.
I am a basic believer that independence at an early age is a key to success in later life when your mom and dad aren’t always going to be there to help, entertain, or plan your life for you. As such, ensuring that Sophia is able to self occupy for a prolonged period of time and is essential. Self-paced exploration is key to self occupation and we try our best to allow her that basic freedom. Speaking of freedoms … sometimes you simply don’t have a choice. This is certainly true for kids… you have to eat or you have to brush your teeth and you have to do it now. I don’t believe in unnecessary tears, in forcing a child to do something they don’t want to do and am keen to quite frankly outsmart Sophia whenever I can. I noticed a few months ago that Sophia had started to take on a decidedly “No” attitude. It is entirely normal — she is just exercising her right to choose. Her choice matters and I would like her to always remember that… so we encourage her to choose but have steered her into a much more “Yes” attitude.
She always gets a choice and as the weeks go by, we try to introduce more freedom to her choice. Our “Yes” and “Choice” attitude shifts the emphasis on the action and more on the fact that it is her choice. For example, she gets to choose her clothes in the morning. She is sometimes not a fan of getting out of her pajamas (how many of us are?!), but she is much more willing when she gets to choose her clothes. Even then, she doesn’t get free reign of her closet, just a choice between a few shirts and shorts/pants. Even the smallest choices let her feel like she has a say. Having a say and exercising her choice and decision-making skills will hopefully help develop these faculties for a future as a rocket scientist or a high-stakes investment banker or … just a well-adjusted member of society where we have free choice.
The summer is in full swing. It is gorgeous outside … and our little girl is sick. I’m hoping it is just a cold and not an ear infection or strep throat. As most parents know, little ones don’t always tell you what is bothering them. She is very sad and a sad sight to see. I am able to steal a few moments to myself and since I cannot (okay, will not) leave the house. I leave you with a Travel Throwback Thursday Sunday.
Everyone travels differently. Some people like to get a taste of a place seeing many places on one trip. We like to really take some time an explore. We enjoy going to museums, but there is not a better museum than the place itself — the architecture, the people, the cuisine. On this particular trip, we toured Madrid, Toledo and Seville. We took two weeks to do it and have plenty left to see still. We’ll of course be back — one day and finish continue what we started.
We saw an evening Flamenco performance in an old mansion in Seville. Traditional houses there are built much like a moroccan Riad where they focus around a central courtyard that often has a water feature. The rest of the world falls away as you step into these old houses. The performance was held in one such courtyard and the dance, the music, the costumes spoke volumes about the Spanish people and their passions.
Shortly after sightseeing in Seville and marveling at its glorious architecture, we moved on to Toledo. There is something tranquil and melancholy about Toledo. It was back in the day, the capital of Spain and housed a very large Jewish population. After the Inquisition, the houses and synagogues that once celebrated life and joy stood as empty reminders of those who are gone. One particular building, originally named the Ibn Shushan Synagogue and later renamed to Santa Maria La Blanca, stood out. The ornate detail showcased the richness of the Sephardic tradition and its columns punctuated the emptiness. The synagogue was empty when we visited and frisson of melancholy passed over me.
Having seen the remnants of a once-thriving capital, we moved on to the new and thriving capital. This night, Madrid was washed over with an unusually large moon lighting the sky a cobalt blue. Glorious, loud, exciting and very now.
