MOM CONFESSIONALS

{ disclosure : VW Routan was provided for editorial use by Volkswagen North America, Sola stroller, available for pre-sale in July at BabiesRUs.com and debuting August 12th, 2010 at Babies ‘R’ Us stores nationwide, was provided by Mamas & Papas, all images used in coverage were taken by a Nikon D5000 – on loan from Nikon USA }

I am the type of person that absorbs the tongue of those around me and after being in the south now for 5 days…  The husband couldn’t stop making fun of me as I started inadvertently adding a southern twang to my speech.  While there were certain things I missed about home, I was definitely enjoying all the comforts the south had to offer.  All I could think about was how nice it was not to be in such a rush like it was back in New York where everyone seems to be running some sort of race.  I could practically see myself moving down here, living in a little beach bungalow, steps from the ocean if it wasn’t for the humidity…sigh!

Both my son and I do not do well in heat.  Both of us were suffering in the worst way possible.  We were overheated, sweaty and red.  I’m sure all the sunbathing didn’t really help either, but that’s neither here nor there.  My poor dear babe, despite the unlearned scratch instinct, was having the worst of it.  His skin was weeping making my main focus to make my son as comfortable as possible.  We’re lucky because despite the weeping skin, he was happy as pie just to be with his family, as we were to be with him.

We were becoming pros at the beach vacation thing in Hilton Head Island.  We had gotten our very own fully reclining beach chairs and colorful beach umbrella.  Being oh so clever, my darling husband found another use for our new Sola stroller by Mamas & Papas.  Probably not recommended by the brand, but we found it perfect for lugging all the extra baggage we had now acquired sans infant seat.  Everything fit in so lovely, and we wheeled the chassis right down in front of the ocean, making it that much easier to manage two children under 3 in tow.

Always looking forward to our next meal, our quick trip to the island Walmart yielded a local gem.  While chatting up the timeshare pusher standing outside, we asked him for his recommendations for dinner.  After mentioning all typical touristy choices, because I guess he had to, we had to go in for the direct approach.  We wanted the casual hole in the wall local favorite.  Swearing we were akin because he use to be from Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, making us raise our eyebrows as he said “Ya’ll come down here much?“, he got a twinkle in his eye. He pointed us to a local secret called the Sea Shack where their slogan said it all – “nothing fancy… just good”.  It was literally a shack, slightly off the waterfront with a simple menu listing the fresh seafood catches of the day.  Looking at it face value, you might want to overlook it, but it did have a shiny “A” sanitation rating. God I wish they had that in New York… but I guess more than 90% of them wouldn’t pass.  The line out the door and alongside the entire building definitely let us know we were in for a treat.  Everything is served on paper plates giving a very picnic like vibe.  We ordered the Shack Attack which consisted of Oysters, Talapia filet, Shrimps, Scallops, Crab Cake, two sides and the best Hush Puppies we’d ever had.  You can get it fried, grilled or blackened — ALL delicious choices. You really can’t go wrong.  As our mouths drooled, we got an order both fried and grilled — not a bite was left on our plates.  It was soooo good! We had a total of 3 meals there on our trip, one of which was my choice for dinner on my birthday.

[ MAMA'S & PAPA'S LOVE ]
…the Sola. Our fancy new stroller was still getting double takes all over the island.  I really think it’s the print that we in the US are not use to seeing.  I wonder why, but it seems most brands opt to simply design in flat colors.  Some may veer into stripes, but its about as pattern-like as you’ll see a stroller get. I had one woman, obviously a trendsetter herself, remark that the pattern very much resembled something another MomConfessional favorite brand, Dwell, might have done.  Aside from me being vain about being noticed as the cool mom on the block, the stroller performs as good as it looks.  One of the things I found a must as a mom, is the ability to maneuver one-handed.  If you can’t, than the stroller sucks.  The Sola moves like a dream.  No more awkward, reverse and drive, reverse and drive as I attempt try after try to move it where I want to go.

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{ disclosure : VW Routan was provided for editorial use by Volkswagen North America, Sola stroller, available for pre-sale in July at BabiesRUs.com and debuting August 12th, 2010 at Babies ‘R’ Us stores nationwide, was provided by Mamas & Papas, all images used in coverage were taken by a Nikon D5000 – on loan from Nikon USA }

We now had 2 days under our belt on the island and were getting into the rhythm of things.  That’s not to say you don’t still need to be flexible and open to ideas.  As much as I would have liked to do the tourist thing every day, that’s not exactly feasible with 2 under 3.  We opted for simple and even that wasn’t simple.

Let’s go for the simple part… FOOD.  Vacations are not a vacation unless they meet the following 3 criteria — Good Food, Beach/Pool and Sun — okay, 4 – shopping too.  We always try to embrace and get a taste of the local flavor as much as possible.  I happened to stumble upon, while reading this month’s FOOD network magazine, a piece on Robert Irvine’s favorite eats on Hilton Head Island!  One of his favorite spots, Stack’s, had my mouth watering before even tasting it, offered Creme Brulee French Toast.  Drool. It tasted as good as it sounds.  It was going to be a good day.

The real gem of Hilton Head Island is their beaches.  So the family and I set out to hit the seaside.  If we thought packing for the trip was cumbersome, we were taught another lesson when packing for the beach.  I guess we should have done a little more research before hand, but when we hit the sand, we weren’t quite as prepared as I’d hoped we would be.  We did of course head out with sunblock, beach toys and a sun tent for the babe.  What we found out was that the beachfront, although owned by the Westin, did not provide beach chairs and umbrellas, not to mention the head-scratching towels.  We quickly adapted and forked over the $20 for 2 chairs and an umbrella while the husband ran back to the hotel pool area to grab towels for us.  With the quick calculation in our head we decided there had to be a better way to enjoy the beach, but we’d figure that out later and set out to enjoy the rest of the day.

I can see why some people consider Hilton Head Island, the best kept secret.  The sand is so fine, its firm the closer to the water you get.  The seaside lifestyle here is very anything goes, as long as you respect nature.  I loved seeing the bikes riding along the water line, kids frolicking in the ocean, dolphins swimming by and saying hi.  I got so excited when one of the beach bathers screamed out, “Dolphins!” waking me up from my sunbathing nap.  I gave her a pass as dolphins are one of my favorite sea creatures.  The toddler was amused by the tiny crabs digging around and the sweet little gecko she found underneath her beach chair.  Nature undisturbed was all around us and I, who declares firmly aloud that I am not a nature-friendly person — you’ll never find me camping in the woods — was not phased at all!  I learned that sand dollars are living creatures when the husband found one in the ocean.  His rare find turned out to be the norm for this island as the neighboring beach dweller had stacks and stacks of them in their treasure chest.  This was nature that I could deal with (the comfort of the resort just steps away…phew!).

I am always looking to take full advantage of all that a resort has to offer.  Figuring out what is offered and what is not can be as hard as deciphering a treasure map.  The best way to get all the intel is to read the hotel services manual, often found in a desk draw somewhere in your room.  I found out that the Westin Hilton Head Island Resort and Spa has a Kid’s Club which gives a free welcome bag when you check-in.  Really?!  We were not offered one when we checked in.  A quick visit to the front desk yielded a backpack for the toddler filled with coloring book and pencils as well as a generous sun hat.  Even the babe got a welcome gift in the form of the Westin Explorer rubber ducky, nightlight and first aid kit.  We added the backpack to the bribing arsenal.

While the beach was fun, we were on a budget and shelling out $20 a day for 5 days didn’t seem cost efficient for 2 beach chairs and an umbrella.  We also found out the hotel offered a similar service through their preferred vendor which offered discounts for longer stays but still we thought we could save even more.  What became our epiphany was… WALMART!  2 Chairs for $40 and an umbrella for another $20.  For $60 we got nice chairs and an umbrella sure to last us through the whole summer.  On the downside, we have to tote them back home.

After our little beach excursion, we decided to explore the island a bit and headed off to the famous Sea Pines section.  The husband was kicking himself the whole time we were there.  We were at the site of the famed Verizon Heritage Golf Tournament.  Because he had forgotten his clubs in our packing frenzy, all he could do was admire the links from afar and take a picture with the iconic red striped tower. Like many familiar cape-side towns there was lots of quaint local shops to peruse in. I particular admired all the beautiful stained glass work which I wasn’t sure if this was a local artisan thing, or just a touristy gimmick.  Nonetheless gorgeous.

Oh the stomachs growling again for some seafood…

[ MAMA'S & PAPA'S LOVE ]
…the Sola.  Our sleak pushchair was drawing stares from all the hotel guests at the posh Westin Hilton Head Island Resort and Spa.  Is it catty of me that I loved saying that it wasn’t out yet – due in August at a neighborhood Babies R Us?  While everyone watched us in the lobby, I demonstrated how easy it was to move babe from rear-facing to forward facing, not to mention the ease of the recline… ensued. – I was having a Carrie (SATC) moment – yea, we’re that cool.

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Given the emotions of the day, all I wanted was an ordinary Sunday.  I had earlier on in the week committed to having regularly scheduled “traditional” Sunday family dinners.  What would make this dinner different and distinct is that I have challenged us to instead of looking for the best take-out, to actually cooking it ourselves.  I was inspired by one of my twitter friend’s, Jennifer Perillo’s Simply Red (Marinara sauce) recipe and my Aunt’s ability to always make homemade sauce despite her ever busy schedule.  I thought to myself, if she can do it, so can I.

So despite all things out of control that day, I took matters into my own hands and decided to regain some control back by making a simple delicious meal for my family to enjoy.  I love to cook and don’t do it often enough.  I’m actually quite good at it but only tend to show my skills for guests — what that translated to was big meals only, never small family sized meals.  This was an experiment in returning to the simple joy of cooking.

Out came the can of Muir Glen Organic Whole Peeled Tomatoes with Fresh Basil (Jennie’s recipe called for San Marzano tomatoes and fresh basil leaves), 4 cloves of whole garlic and 8 baby carrots (instead of suggested pinch of sugar).  Since I needed to be quick, I threw the baby carrots into a food processor until it was finely chopped.  I sauteed the whole cloves of garlic in  olive oil slightly burning them by accident despite it being hard to do, and murphy’s law practically dictated I be the rare case.  I poured the tomatoes into a bowl and gingerly hand crushed them to a consistency I liked.  It was a lot easier than I expected and getting my hands into it made it more fun and authentic.  I poured it into my red cast iron pot (just like the one in Jennie’s picture!), added a little sea salt and fresh cracked pepper and let it simmer while I readied the pasta.

Ever the skeptic, my darling husband was not too sure about me making fresh marinara sauce.  When I added chopped baby carrots, I could see him raising his eyebrows at me and thinking to himself, this wasn’t his version of traditional marinara sauce.  Raise your eyebrows at me anytime you want I thought to myself, but I was sneaking in some more vegetables into this meal if I could, especially since Ava abhors carrots for some reason unknown to us.  I figured and hoped it was so finely chopped and would soften to an unnoticeable consistency while simmering in the sauce.  20 minutes later, we had ourselves a meal and it was a smashing hit!  Even my darling husband who doesn’t dole out compliments when it comes to my cooking gave me his surprised shrug and declared it “pretty good!”  We even made a second pot of pasta just to finish the sauce.  Ever the perfectionist, the only tweaks I’d make next time is finding Organic San Marzano (because Jennie swears by them) tomatoes in a BPA-free lined can.

After all the dishes were cleared and the kids bathed, teethes brushed, I caught the above moment as my family unwound in my daughter’s room and prepared for the upcoming week.  An Ordinary Sunday it was…

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a DO OVER.  As many of you know, I spent Mother’s Day at my son’s bedside in the PICU at our local hospital.  He had a swollen fontanelle and high grade fever.  After a CAT Scan, MRI & MRV, Spinal Tap, Urine Test, Blood Culture and however many more tests they conducted, the doctor’s were left stumped.  I sadly thought to myself that this was what was always going to be.  When a nurse repeated his medical history, matter of factually stating — “micro-deletion on chromosome 16 of unknown significance,” I repeated only to myself, yes, of unknown significance.

I know many regard Mother’s Day as a day of celebrating and honoring the role a Mother plays in their children’s lives.  I on the other hand choose to regard the day as a reflection.  To remember the joy amongst the chaos of the everyday, sleep deprived and all, to remember the love despite the fights to eat vegetables, clean their rooms and washing crayon drawings off the wall and my kitchen cabinets, to remember the reason why being a mother is simply the best job in the whole wide world.  It’s so easy to forget the  joy of being a parent, especially when you count the gray hairs you’ve accumulated as one, or the heartache you experience as your child falls and hurts his knee for the first time, even worse, the first time they are hospitalized.

Mother’s Day to me is a day to take a step back and enjoy my kids instead of trying to be the perfect parent and making them the perfect kid.  It’s the day I don’t stress if she didn’t say excuse me after sneezing all over me.  It’s the day I let her run around the house in her pajama top with a purple tutu and no underwear on.  It’s the day where she can watch more than an hour of TV without my protest.  It’s the day I’m not googling and reading some horrifying article on chemicals entering their bodies and flipping our lives upside down to change it as if I was God.  It’s the day I’m not staring at my son thinking every little thing is that “unknown significance.”  It’s the day I sit and watch and enjoy watching the world through their eyes.  The day I simply let them be my kids, perfectly imperfect.

The bond between a mother and child is well known and well documented but you can never truly understand it until you become a mother yourself.   I know it’s a lot more than just blood, but that simple fact brings so much joy to me as a mother.  I love knowing that they once were a part of me, connected to me… every time I kiss their bellies and graze their adorable belly buttons — I think that was me to you, like a secret between two, only we can say that.  I love seeing and identifying things like who has my stubbornness, who has my laughter, who has my nose, my ears and even the imperfections like my horrible teeth (thank God for braces!).  I love the wonder my husband has on how I just know when something is wrong with our little ones and he doesn’t (cause I have counted every hair on their little beautiful heads).

So even though I spent Mother’s Day away from my daughter, and by my son’s beside in the PICU, the love that I felt for my children that day was bursting out of my heart.  As long as I had them, every day is Mother’s Day to me.

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Continued from Part I…

I couldn’t believe the thoughts running through my head.  I couldn’t believe that once I cursed God for Emma’s condition and now I was infinitely grateful for such a clear cut diagnosis.

My sister said to me at one point that God only gives you as much as you can handle and I remember staring at her in disbelief.  Well actually I was probably more pissed than anything.  I think I rolled my eyes when she said that and even wanted to hit her.  I could not believe that God would want me to go through this again.  What kind of God would grant me the gift of life, only to take it away again shortly after.  What kind of God would do something like repeatedly to one person thinking that she could bare this yet again.   I found it hard to believe in a God so cruel.  If there was ever one thing in my life I wanted and knew I was meant to be… it was that I was to be a mother.

Here I was again, being forced to make a choice — live or die, die or live.  I started hyperventilating again, something I hadn’t done since Emma.  The cowardice side of me wanted to go right in and end this pregnancy now.  I wanted it to go away, pretend this wasn’t happening to me.  I wanted a do over.  I didn’t want to feel the pain.  I felt out of control.  One part of me wanted to run into the kitchen and start smashing every dish in the house, another part of me wanted to end my life right then and there.  All that kept running through my head was that I can’t do this again, I can’t do this again, I don’t have the strength, I can’t , I can’t, I can’t.  I wanted someone to help me and yet I knew no one could.  I felt so desperate and in deep despair.  I told my closest friends, hoping for some peace, encouragement or something to hold onto — not their fault, but none came.  I whispered help me and no one could hear me.

Then the survival side of me kicked in and I thought to myself, someone has to help me.  I went professional — I called my therapist who I hadn’t spoken to since I mentally resolved I had talked enough about Emma and it was time to move on.  All the things I thought I could change with Emma came rushing back to me.  I needed to take control this time.  I needed to know what was happening, to make more informed decisions.  I needed to be the rational one.  I couldn’t crawl into a hole and cry.  I needed to be strong.  I had Ava to think about.  RATIONAL, RATIONAL, RATIONAL.  All the while I was thinking this, my mind and body was doing the complete opposite.  I showed my family that I was taking care of myself.  I did all my own research, I asked tons of questions, I never cried in front of them.  I was the picture of rational.  But when no one was looking, I played my pain to music.  I would sit in the bathroom, water running with my iPod on.  I allowed myself to cry through ONE song, a few minutes that I allowed the pain to seep in.

I set up my first therapy appointment and even went there alone.  I came back and boasted that it helped… when in reality I couldn’t even bring myself to talk during the session.  She was patient.  I refused to talk and stated so.  I was so angry I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t want to feel my feelings, I wanted it all to go away.  So she asked questions and I kept my answers brief and succinct.  I knew it was like pulling teeth.  I just couldn’t think of anything to say that I haven’t said already.  That was IT… I’ve done this ALREADY!  I was in sheer disbelief that this was happening AGAIN.  Again was all I could focus on.  These feelings were the same I had the last time and I was sooooo over feeling them.  Instead they were replaced with anger.  I still cried my tears in private when I allowed myself to absorb the events of each doctor’s visit, each consultation, each test — but mostly it was anger I felt.

I needed someone to blame and while I beat myself up mentally, I lashed out at the doctor’s, the nurses, the geneticists — still in quiet silence.  While I smiled and bit my tongue every time they made a mistake, lost our test results, said there was delays or additional testing needed, I went home, critiqued them to an unholy standard and cursed their existence.  My therapist said it was okay for me to be angry.  After all they did lose my drawn blood for a genetics test resulting in another day of waiting in the lab for a blood draw.  They did come back and tell us that they made a mistake with the chromosome deletion  — it was not Chromosome 4, it was actually 16.  They did say they knew nothing about 4 and even less about 16.  They did say the results would take 3 days when it really took 8 days.  They did say repeatedly that they did not know what significance this deletion meant.  The choice was ours… live or die, LIVE or DIE.

As I grasped for straws and went for second, third and fourth opinions, a true friend emerged.  It was this doctor, a prominent endocrinologist at Cornell Medical Center, that got angry for us.  Enough was enough.  No more testing unless they could give us real definitive answers and they could not give us any.  We had to choose to enjoy this pregnancy or… end it and move forward.  He erred on the enjoying side of things and I was inspired.  He gave me the hope I needed to pick myself off the floor.  It seemed all so clear all of a sudden.  This was my son, my baby and no one could tell me what was wrong with him.  The sonograms looked perfect.  Every anatomical exam and EKG test showed him to be in picture perfect health.  These were the only definitive things they could give me and I was going to hold onto every last beautiful perfect image until they showed me something to worry about.  I did subject myself to bi-monthly sonograms but looked forward to them as another photo for the scrap book.  If they didn’t take any during the exam, I made sure to vocalize and get one.  I let them measure and look to their hearts content while I went home and stared at his beautiful pictures with my husband.  I ignored the little big here, little small here remarks and just loved him.

When my pelvis split again, I just laughed.  If this was the worst that could happen to me, I was fine with it.  At one point my OB said to me, you’re doing so much better with this split than the last.  I turned to him and said, don’t get me wrong, the pain is far worse, but I can handle it if it means a happy healthy baby.  I have to survive, HE has to survive, this was our choice.  If this was the burden I had to bare to ensure so, than so be it.  Not to mention, I’ve done this whole pelvis split thing before, I knew what to expect, how much pain I could take, what my limitations would be.  I was more prepared for this than anything else.

I won’t say Marcus’ birth was easy.  I went through a month of pre-term labor before the doctor felt it was time for Marcus’ to grace us with his appearance.  He said it was clear the little man wanted to get out.  Mixed with fear and excitement at him arriving a month early, I found out the reason for my pre-term labor was a window in my uterus — the scar tissue from my previous c-section didn’t heal properly causing a potential for uterine wall rupture.  My pre-term contractions were attributed to pressure in this area causing a bubble that looked like it was inflating and deflating over and over again.  Aside from that, his arrival was perfection.  He arrived and we were bursting with love at his perfection.  He did have a sacral pit and tons of mongolian marks that made him look like a beaten infant but otherwise, he was perfection.

Some people might think it strange that Emma’s ashes sits above Marcus’ bassinet.  I think its fitting.  A representation of her as an angel looking down over him.  I’d like to think that Marcus’ is drawing strength from her.

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Looking at me now, you’d never guess that I once came from a family that struggled to put food on the table.  Nearly 17 million children in the US are hungry everyday.  While the number of kids receiving free federally funded school breakfasts & lunches have increased by the hundreds of thousands, there are more than 10 million children who are eligible and do not get it.  Children who are hungry are more likely to have weaker immune systems, struggle with growth and development, and ironically struggle with obesity because of the quality of food available to them.

Earlier this week the kids and I had the privilege to attend the launch of the 2nd Annual Bread Art Project with Melissa D’Arabian.  Created by the Grain Foods Foundation, the Bread Art Project was developed to increase awareness of the growing hunger problem in the US. For each piece of Bread Art, $1 is donated to Share Our Strength, the leading national organization working to end childhood hunger in America by 2015.  Last year they raised over $25,000.  This year the Grain Foods Foundation has pledged $50,000 to Share Our Strength and and additional $1 for each qualifying Bread Art submission received at breadartproject.com.  You can submit your own creation now through June 30, 2010.

To understand the impact this donation makes:

• $1 can help provide three nutritious meals to a hungry child
• $25 can help feed one child three healthy meals every day for a month
• $50 can help connect one child with healthy meals throughout the summer
• $100 can help provide 25 children facing hunger backpacks full of healthy food to feedthem and their families over the weekend
• $200 can help buy grocery bags of healthy food for 50 families in need
• $500 can help reach 12 low income families with a life changing, 6-week nutritious cooking and food budgeting course
• $1,000 can help expand a summer feeding program to reach hundreds more children
  facing hunger during the summer months it can provide “3″ nutritious meals to a hungry child.

Share Our Strength believes that family need nutritious foods, not just enough food.  They strive to educate families on how to serve healthier choices even on a limited budget.  Bread and grains should be a staple in any diet as it provides fuel for the energy needed by the body every day.

The Grain Foods Foundation teamed up with Melissa D’Arabian, Food Network host of Ten Dollar Dinners, to has developed recipes and tips that show how to choose the right foods to fit a budget while providing healthy meals with long-lasting benefits.  We had a chance to sample all of the delicious recipes and here are some of our favorites from the event.

Recipes developed by Melissa d’Arabian for the Grain Foods Foundation

Crispy Ham, Tomato and Mozzarella Sandwich
2 T olive oil plus 1 teaspoon, divided
1 t dried basil
1 garlic clove, peeled and smashed
4 thin slices ham
4 slices sandwich bread
4 slices mozzarella cheese
½ tomato, thinly sliced
Salt and pepper
In a small bowl, mix 2 T of the olive oil, basil, smashed garlic clove and salt and pepper with a
fork to release flavors and let sit while preparing the rest of the sandwich (at least five minutes).
In a small sauté pan, cook the ham in a teaspoon of olive oil over medium heat 2-3 minutes per
side, or until beginning to crisp. Toast the bread. Lay the cheese on one slice of the toast and
brush generously with the flavored olive oil, using a pastry brush. Add the ham, and top with
tomatoes. Brush the tomatoes with the olive oil, and top with the second piece of toast. Repeat
for the second sandwich.
Yield: 2 servings
Prep time: 10 minutes
Ease of preparation: Easy

BLT Tartlets
8 slices white bread
3 T light cream cheese, softened
1 T light mayonnaise
1 t garlic powder
1 t dried oregano
2 medium tomatoes, chopped and lightly salted
4 slices bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
¾ cup red or green leaf lettuce, chiffonade (roll and cut into ribbon-like strips)
Salt and pepper
Olive oil for drizzling
Heat oven to 375°. Remove crusts from bread and, using a large spoon, gently press the slices
of bread down flat until thin and almost doughy. Brush with olive oil on both sides. Place the
slices in the muffin tin, pressing them into the muffin shape, to create a tartlet shell. Bake for 12-
13 minutes, or until golden and crusty.
Meanwhile, in a small bowl, use a fork to mix the cream cheese, garlic powder, mayonnaise and
oregano with salt and pepper until smooth and creamy.
Once the bread is golden, remove the shells and place them on a cooling rack to assemble. To
make the tartlets, place a teaspoon of the cream cheese mixture on the bottom, followed by the
bacon, tomatoes and the lettuce. Top with salt and pepper and a drizzle of olive oil.
Yield: 4 servings (2 tartlets per serving)
Prep time: 15 minutes
Ease of preparation: Easy

White Bean Bruschetta
1 baguette, sliced thinly along the bias
¼ cup olive oil, divided
2 T unsalted butter, divided
½ white onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 t dried basil
1 t dried oregano
¾ cup canned navy beans, rinsed and drained
2 tomatoes, cored and cubed
2 T balsamic vinegar
Kosher salt and pepper
Olive oil for drizzling
For the bread, slice the baguette on the diagonal into thin slices (about 12 for a baguette). In a
large sauté pan, heat 1 T of the olive oil and 1 T of the unsalted butter on medium heat. Place
the bread slices in the pan and cook on medium high heat until sizzling and golden. Just before
flipping the bread, add an additional tablespoon of olive oil and butter to the pan. Flip the bread
and cook second side until golden.
For the topping, cook the onions and 2 T of the olive oil over medium heat in a medium sauté pan
until the onions are very soft, about 7 minutes. Add the garlic, basil and oregano and cook
another minute or two, until fragrant. Add the beans and continue cooking for another five
minutes on low heat and season with salt and pepper. Add the tomatoes and turn off the heat,
allowing tomatoes just to take on the warmth of the pan without cooking. Drizzle the balsamic
vinegar into the pan and gently stir.
To serve, scoop heaping spoonfuls of the tomato-bean mixture onto the grilled bread, sprinkle
with kosher salt, and drizzle with additional olive oil.
Yield: 4 servings, 3 slices each
Prep time: 15 minutes
Ease of preparation: Easy

Weekday Crisper Drawer Penne Pasta
8 ounces dried penne pasta
3 T olive oil
1 slice bacon, cut into matchsticks across the shorter length of the strip
1 onion, thinly sliced
2 carrots, grated
1 zucchini, grated
1 t dried thyme
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups fresh spinach
¼ cup grated parmesan
2 T bread crumbs
Salt and pepper
In a large sauté pan, cook bacon in olive oil until almost crisp, about five minutes. Add onion and
cook until tender and translucent. Add the remaining vegetables and cook until tender, about five
minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant.
Meanwhile, cook penne according to package directions, salting the water liberally. One minute
before the pasta cooking time is done, add raw spinach to the pasta water and cook with the
pasta for the final minutes. Remove ¾ cup of pasta water just before draining and set aside.
Drain pasta and spinach and toss in pan with vegetables. Add pasta water as necessary to coat
pasta so it doesn’t stick. In a small bowl, mix bread crumbs and parmesan, and sprinkle on top of
pasta to serve.
Yield: 4 servings
Prep time: 20 minutes
Ease of preparation: Easy

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I am a confessed shopaholic who is sadly on STRICT budget.  How does a girl survive?

I miss the days of mass forwarded emailing of friends & family coupons and sale notifications. Once considered always being in the loop, I was use to getting at least one a week.  I sometimes wonder if those still exists and if they do, they must only be for the college set (employees of those companies offering friends & family discounts).  There are still a few ways to save a lot of dough.  Some of my favorites are:

1. {Membership Only Shopping sites } I imagine that growing up has elevated us to new ways of discount shopping, otherwise known as exclusive membership only shopping clubs.  These memberships often come with some serious privileges.
   • Gilt Groupe – Designer shopping for him, for her, for the kids, even the dogs sometimes.  Their sister site Jetsetter.com also hocks drool worthy luxury vacation packages
   • Rue La La – Oooh La La!  Everything from designers to travels, similar to Gilt Groupe
   • Voyage Prive – luxury hotel and travel packages below even the travel sites listed prices
   • Goldstar – great for savings on local events such as discount tickets to baseball games, shows such as Sesame Street Live or concerts, even Amusement park, zoos and aquarium discounts by as much as 70% off.
   • Totsy savings every parent will love (email me for invitation)
   • bTrendie (email me for invitation)
   • The Mini Social for the Earth and for our Children
2. { Store Credit Cards } with exclusive card holder privileges.  GAP, Banana Republic and Old Navy offers free shipping over a certain dollar amount and sometimes free shopping if you’ve elevated to GAP Silver or BR Luxe status.  Yes I shop there way too much. You’re also often privy to their 30% off Friends and Family, Stuff & Save or Shop for Charity discounts.  Even shopping at the actual retail stores with the cards can save a bundle.  For example, I “heart” Bloomingdale’s and their cardholders saving an extra 20% off sale prices.  I’m getting flushed just thinking about it!
3. { Shoppers Club or Rewards Cards } think Waldbaum’s – grocery stores, drug stores such as CVS, Babies R Us (who send almost monthly a $5 rewards certificate). Hate carrying all those tags and cards?  If you’ve got an iPhone check out the CardStar app which makes all those tags and cards a thing of the past.
4. { Rebate sites } that give you back a percentage of your total purchase via check, gift cards or towards funding education plans.
   • Ebates
   • Upromise
   • Bing Cashback
5. { Coupon sites } I never shop without looking for a coupon to use online (and offline too!).  Call it coupon clipping gone techy or green.  Sometimes I snag up to 30% off or free shipping which is nothing to snub at.  Check out the following sites or simply google the website and the word “coupon” or “discount“.
   • Tjoos.com
   • Retailmenot.com
   • Tech Bargains
   • Coupons.com
   • CouponCabin.com
   • DealCatcher.com
   • FatWallet.com
6. { Social Friends } For those who are social networking savvy, there are so many ways to save some extra dough.  Some of the tips I’ve picked up along my journey include
   • become a facebook fan or “like” the page for exclusive discounts
   • follow your favorite brands on twitter for exclusive discount codes and giveaways
   • add some of these bloggers to your RSS feed or sign up for their newsletters.  One of my favorites include www.mommysnacks.net, she’s got even more great savings tips
   • check out cheaptweet.com which scours the twitter timeline for deals.
   • check out foursquare.com – I don’t play myself but I hear there are exclusive discounts for visitors, especially if you become mayor (as a frequent visitor)

My RULES for shopping online:

1. Always price compare.  Good sites to use include google or mysimon.com
2. Rarely pay tax for a product.  It can’t be avoided for brands with brick and mortar retail stores across the US.
3. Rarely pay for shipping unless shopping on Amazon.com.  Their prime membership is worth every penny!
4. Always try to use a site that gives rebates
5. …then always use a coupon
6. Frequent the sites that allow coupon stacking and rebates.  Nothing gets me as hot and heavy as stacking coupons with rebates… I love to do a victory dance afterwards…

Got a good tip to save some real $$$, please share by leaving a comment!

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{ disclosure : media event, received some free product }

The other day I was invited to take a tour of the Marcal Factory and what a treat it was.  I learned that Marcal is no ordinary paper goods company.  Despite our attempts at reducing our paper product dependency, we’ve got basket fulls of cloth towels which we use and wash weekly, and my recently potty trained daughter’s inability to adhere to my 3-sheet rule, we still buy paper towels and toilet paper in bulk.  I have to admit out of my own green shame with my family excessive use of paper goods products I rarely look beyond the price tag associated with my choices.  While Marcal’s re-branding of their name to Marcal Small Steps, they have always been an “Earth-Friendly Paper Goods Company”, in fact since the 1950′s.  I was shocked to find out that only 2% of the products on the shelves are made from recycled paper – let me say it again – ONLY 2%! I got to see first hand the entire process from start to finish as Marcal Small Steps Paper products were being manufactured.  A major carbon footprint reducing effort, they collect paper recycling from their 600 mile radius neighborhood, turning our trash into completely reusable paper products.  They are always looking for ways to be greener, more efficient (can we say six sigma!) and cost effective.

I was not only impressed with their manufacturing and finished products but I also applauded just how many women were in executive positions at this company.  A smart move as most moms and women make the paper goods choices in their households.  In addition, they have a strong commitment to educating the public about recycling through efforts such as lesson plans for teachers of various grade levels and functions like a tree saving calculator, all of which can be found on their website under the LEARN tab.

To understand the impact of using recycled paper products they have figured out that if each household replaced one package of traditional toilet paper with Marcal Small Steps, together we could help save a million trees!  I will definitely be switching my paper goods choices to Marcal Small Steps.  A smart consumer is an educated consumer – Marcal, you’ve got me hooked!  In my house we applaud all efforts to going green.  We’re no hippy tree hugging family but we like to take “small steps” in the right direction and hopefully make a big impact.  For more information, please check out their brand new website at: www.marcalpaper.com

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I’ve sat down so many times to write this story over the years.  Each time I felt a little closer to being at peace but not quite ready to let it all go.  So here it goes…another attempt to be at peace…

It didn’t take almost losing my life for me to understand the value of life.  Rather it was trying to create a happy healthy life that taught me.  Lately while looking at my beautiful baby boy, I am struck by the thought of what almost wasn’t.  There is this incredible feeling of guilt that weighs on my heart thinking that the thought of terminating him once crossed my mind.  It wasn’t a light consideration either when faced with a strong possibility of a severely sick child.

HERE WE GO AGAIN…

At times I thought I was a coward.  When my amniocentesis results came in with a possible deletion on chromosome 4, I collapsed on the floor.  My heart was racing so loud, I could hear it as if it was being blasted through a set of speakers.  As I googled as quick as I could type, scanning and reading as rapid as they were appearing on screen, I started to hyperventilate and then came the sobs.  The uncontrollable sobs where I couldn’t even catch my breath and everything started spinning around me.  Severe mental retardation… heart defects… atrophy… club foot… cleft palate…  It took me over 20 minutes to compose myself enough to pick up the phone and call my husband who was at work.  Those 20 minutes I sat feeling completely alone in the world.  I could barely speak.  Amnio… bad… deletion…4… defects… retardation… physical abnormalities… come home… please… help me… and then I hung up the phone and collapsed on the floor again with the tears coming so fast… I wanted to die… I never wanted to die so badly in my life.  I didn’t want to feel this pain ever again and here I was… all over again… Every emotion that I had shoved way back in my head of Emma’s death was rushing back and fast.

EMMA’S STORY

I remembered sitting in doctor’s office, the concerned look on his face as he stared at the sonogram.  The calmness and positiveness he tried to maintain when explaining his concerns and sending us for additional testing.  I was hanging onto every possible positive thing he said.  The odds were suppose to be in our favor.  I was not a high risk candidate.  I pish poshed his concerns and took the tests… simply to humor the doctor.  I sat in the hospital almost defiant that I wasn’t going to be a statistic.

As more and more doctors came in and out, watching their silent but all too loud glances at one another, the knowing nods, the whispering… I started to cry.  They didn’t even have to say anything and I knew something was wrong, very wrong.  I dressed and followed the doctor’s into their consultation room with tears rolling down my eyes and my husband trying to comfort me even though he had no idea what was to come.  He kept telling me to hear what the doctor’s had to say and not jump to conclusions but I just knew.

As the doctor’s talked, I stared at them.  I was wishing they’d all go away.  I was wishing they would disappear and this was all a bad dream.  I tried to remain calm and focused.  I asked as many questions as I forgot their answers.  I only heard what I wanted to hear.  I heard only the possibilities and never the buts… My husband heard all the buts and they were big buts.  He being the more rational one of the two, heard the doctor’s and in his most logical, reasonable manner agreed with the doctor’s that I should terminate the pregnancy right away.

I remember wanting to scream but nothing was coming out of my mouth.  All I could do was sob.  I told everyone to go away.  I even wanted my husband to go away.  I declared no one was going to take my baby from me.  I remember them trying to rationalize with me that this was the best thing to do.  It would be over and I could move on.  I could start the healing process sooner.  I was completely outraged.  Bombs and Missiles were going off in my head.  It would be over and I could move on!!!  How dare they!  My husband became the enemy even if he didn’t know it.  I hated him.  I loathed him.  He and the doctor’s wanted to take my child from me.  I became the protector.  She was in my body, it was my body and no one was going to tell me what to do.  She was MY baby, not theirs.  The had no faith, but I believed in her.  My husband begged me to listen, told me he couldn’t see me like this, that he needed to see me happy again.  He wanted me to smile again.  We could have more babies, other babies.  She wasn’t going to make it.  She was going to die.  Her dying now would be the same as her dying in my arms, but he hoped this way would be less painful.  He begged me not to torture myself and let the healing process begin.  End it now and we could start all over again.

I became numb.  They doctors talked mostly to my husband as I sat in silent protest.  I heard them make appointments with genetics, schedule the surgery, recommend a therapist.  I just sat there expressionless.  A part of me, the ration me was lurking there and knew they were right but I didn’t want to stop fighting for her… and for me.  I needed to make her known.  I could feel and hear others thinking that because she wasn’t born yet, she wasn’t real. It made me want to scream, “she exists!!!”  I enlisted a friend who helped me document the last few hours of her life.  I struggled to hold onto anything I could.  I tried my best to be strong.  I tried to come to terms with her inevitable death while going back and forth in my head on whether or not we were making the right decision.  A part of me knew they were right, yet I felt they were so wrong too.  I knew some people felt she wasn’t a real person yet, being unable to sustain life outside of the womb, and that angered me.  That her life wasn’t one to consider unless she was born and able to breath.  I made myself a promise that her death would be dealt with dignity.  I arranged for her cremation and searched earnestly for the perfect urn for her tiny remains.  I finally settled on a bronze and mother of pearl urn that fit in the palm of my hand.  She wasn’t to be forgotten, I would make sure of it.

The day of the surgery I only cried.  The only request I had from the surgeon was one last sonogram picture.  When it was over, I held onto that picture of her.  She looked so peaceful, I’d like to imagine sleeping and unaware of what had happened to her.   I felt completely alone.  No one understood my pain.   I spent countless hours in the middle of the night when I was sure my husband was sleeping, crying my eyes out.  Hiding out in extra long showers where I could let the tears flow without the looks of pity from my family and friends.  I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what went wrong.  I blamed myself.  She was in my body and I didn’t take good care enough of myself to keep her safe.  They said it was a fluke, somehow during the chromosome separation, 18 didn’t split.  I even convinced myself everyone was blaming me too.  Was it when I missed a prenatal vitamin dosage?  Was it using all those chemicals on my skin that I now know are toxic?  Was it BPA related?  I wanted so desperately to have answers that I would never get.

There are still days I question if we made the right decision.  No matter how sure the doctor’s were of her inevitable fate, I still lived in the what ifs.  I sometimes torture myself and visit online support boards, ignoring the pain the families were going through with the birth of a Trisomy-18 child and instead feel a little jealous that they got to meet their baby.  There are still days I wake up in the middle of the night crying for her.  Despite having my two precious babies, she’s the life I will never forget.

AVA’S STORY

It took  over a year before I had finally accepted I would never truly heal after my daughter Emma’s death but that I could pick up the pieces and move on… In the weeks following Emma’s death I channeled my grief into a goal to get pregnant again as soon as possible.  I knew nothing would replace Emma in my heart, her remains sat in the urn right by my bed.  Sometimes I carried her with me in secret.  I wanted so desperately to have a do over.  To move on, start over again like they all promised me.

So while my husband assumed I was simply reconnecting with him, I just wanted to be pregnant again.  Despite my husband’s insistence that I wasn’t ready and it was too soon, I didn’t care.  I couldn’t win.  I hid my grief from everyone because it seemed like that’s what they wanted from me — to be over it.  Then they would tell me that I wasn’t grieving enough or the way they wanted me to.  I went to therapy every week in a show that I could take care of myself.  I was fixing ME.

A few months later I did finally conceive.  Instead of the expected joy that everyone feels with a new pregnancy, mine was replaced with fear.  I remember my doctor saying to me at my first prenatal appointment that this was the one that was going to be perfect.  God knows I deserved it after I lost Emma to Trisomy-18.  I held onto his words so tightly and prayed every night for a healthy baby.  I felt like I held my breath the entire pregnancy.  Despite each appointment with its bright, cheery and happy outlook, I still frowned and waiting for the ball to drop.  When I was diagnosed with Pubic Symphysis Separation early on in my pregnancy, I thought it was just the beginning of many more problems to come.  It became a challenge for the doctor and his staff to see a smile on my face.  From the moment Ava was born, she was a blessing and the doctor was right.  She was perfection, a precocious, funny little girl who steals everyone’s heart.  Since the day she was born she became the light of our world.  I finally felt like all was right with the world again.  I had my baby, the littlest love of my life and she was perfect.

to be continued…

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{ disclosure : i am a medela mom maven }

A little over a week ago I had to take a quick business trip to Las Vegas.  It use to be one of my favorite destinations business trip wise.  I mean what’s not to love — the shopping, the amenities, the shows… the FOOD!  This time it was full of mixed emotions.  While I was excited to bring my “A” game as a super marketing executive and wear that hat for the what may be the last time, it also meant 50 hours away from my almost 3-month old exclusively breastfed son.  Yes I counted the hours and if I had to be precise it was from 6:02am Wednesday morning until 8:18am Friday morning.

My son was mostly refusing the bottle and I was a wreck leaving my newborn for the first time.  This really shouldn’t be a new thing to me.  I had been in this situation before with my daughter when I was working full-time as a Marketing/PR executive and traveling quite often.  Irrationally at the time, my husband often bought a ticket for himself and both he and the baby would then join me after painfully watching me cry my eyes out at the thought of being separated from my child.  It became an expensive habit, almost costing as much as my salary to keep up.

Putting all that aside, I had put it in my mind that I had to take this trip and would simply have to make the best of it.  How did I survive as a breastfeeding mom separated from her newborn by two time zones and a little over 50 hours?  My tips:

1. As hard as it may be, you have to start bottle feeding as soon as possible.  Finding the right bottle can prove to be a lengthy challenge. Don’t stop breastfeeding at all.
2. Substitute one bottle a day as early as you can.
3. DO NOT be the one administering the bottle.  Your baby is no idiot and your boob is right there.
4. I would in fact, LEAVE the premise if possible.  It’s good for the baby not to sense you around and good for your own breaking heart.
5. DO pump while the baby is attempting to take the bottle.  You after all have to train your boobs to have a letdown without your baby’s sucking.
6. Increase to two bottles a day if you can in the weeks leading up to the leave.  Training your boobs to letdown with a pump and your baby to adapt to more than one bottle.
7. In the days leading up to your leave, return back to 1 bottle a day, so your baby can remember you.
8. BE PREPARED!  Anticipate all situations you may need to pump. Quart size ziplock bags are your friend.  Bring 3 – Clean, Dirty and Carry-All (holds other two bags, steam bag and wipes)
9. BE AWARE that you may not be able to clean your pump right away and how long until you may be able to. Medela’s Quick Clean wipes were my savior.
10. Invest in a good double breastpump like Medela’s Pump InStyle or Medela’s Freestyle if you can afford it.
11. A handpump like Medela’s Harmony is great and small enough to fit in your purse for times you can’t find an outlet or carrying the larger pump is not an option.
12. Bring the battery pack and extra batteries. Bring the car adapter if you’re driving.
13. Don’t be ashamed to pump.  It’s a wonderful and natural gift.  I proudly announced the the stewardess that I needed to pump at 10,000+ feet and didn’t blink an eye while doing it in the tiny bathroom.
14. Disposable Breastpads are your best friends.  They will absorb leaking milk like a pro and doesn’t require washing while you’re traveling.  My favorite are the Johnson’s Nursing Pads which can be found at Target, they are perfectly contoured to the breast and don’t leave any indication of them even through the thinnest of shirts.
15. TIMING IS EVERYTHING.  Breastfeed right before you leave for your trip.  Literally right before you walk out the door.  Plan to pump midway through your flight and more depending on the flight time.  You must account for times preparing for takeoff and beverage/snack service and give a little more for the bathroom rush afterwards as well as the reverse before landing.
16. PUMP ON A SCHEDULE.  It doesn’t have to be exactly the same as the eating schedule of your baby, but as close to it as can be managed.
17. If you’re lucky to have access to a microwave, Medela’s Quick Clean Micro-Steam bags are perfect for travel and sterilize in 3 minutes flat.
18. WHEN YOU GET HOME… RUN! to your baby and nurse right away… just because you want to =0)

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