When you call out my name, you know wherever I am, I'll come running, to see you again

For those who are new here, I keep most of my blog titles as song lyrics, or at the very least a close rendition of song lyrics. And I guess this is the reason for me being silent on this blog site, though, that is not that whole truth. The entire truth is, I really haven't had much time to write on the things I reflect upon. Mostly because the time I reflect on anything is when I'm in the shower or when I'm driving and in both of those situations, bloggin is frowned on. Nevertheless, there has been stuff to take up my time. Like, thinking I was going to have to prepare for a 6month deployment that was called off with only a few weeks left before he left. And then with only a year passing, preparing for a year long deployment which actually did take place. So far (and this is with knocking on SERIOUS wooden surfaces), this year-remote is going a little bit better than the last one just because I haven't received a call saying that the husband was being shipped back to the States because of a broken bone. As it stands now, I get to take the trip up to Greenland that never happened the first go around and this time I even have the option of taking our daughter. But, again, these are not the things that have been keeping me from sleeping or from being completely OK. These are just the things.

This time around, I'm in a place that I know and the car travel that I do does not involve mountain passes or cliffs or an infant who hated car rides and would just cry. This time around, I have places that I can go and things I can busy myself with doing while the child is at school and learning under someone else's supervision. This time around, I have built a support system on my terms and with people who have already been familiar to me, rather than trying to build new relationships with a baby who was yearning to toddle and make things even more exhausting. This time around, I had the benefit of the experience from the last remote AND the experience of what it means to be part of the military as a dependant.

But still, with everything that was handled came the things that were new and hard. Like having to deal with not just a crying baby, but a little kid with feelings she could express and trying to make sure not to make any lasting damage to her emotion growth. Like having to navigate the slight-to-major case of deja-vu because the last remote made such a lasting impression. Like having friends you want to hang with, but very little physical or emotional oomph to actually make it happen. Or, and this is a biggie, not having the network of reliable babysitting because the people who offer to care for your child who you trust are the very same people with whom you want to go out and have a good time.

This is not a cry for help or a pity party. This is just the mumbled frustrations of a gal who is only 4 months away from getting back a partner who actually actively shares the load. Not just the breadwinner. The partner who helps with the 4am wake ups from the kid with her masked whispers of "i....can't....sleeeeeeep" or the one who takes charge of dinner when my brain is too busy calling for a surrender.

I know I have the support system who would take some of my burden but it's not just about that. It's about being my constant companion. I wish I could say that I am replenished of all of my energy from a fun night out or an afternoon off. Unfortunately, I'm the sad sack who gets zapped of any found energy the moment "Mommy mode" kicks in. I love time to cut loose and have fun, but I know I have to be bigger and stronger than that because I have another human depending on me to be better.

I have let too many things take precedence over finding a mental health care professional to talk out all that buzzes in my head. I've had about two decades worth of stuff I should have unpacked, but over the last year when I've finally decided to deal with it, all I've been able to do is get some medication to help with the anxiety and depression. Which, quite honestly, may be the biggest superhero during this remote, not just the familiarity or any other factor. But I've left the work unfinished. I need to find the right person with a medical background to spill all of my pent up thoughts. I'm too tired, too sad, too angry, too invested in people I care about (including me, I guess) to not do the thing I urge others to do.

I need to breathe deep and easy, something I've only been able to do for a little at a time. I swear I have a much better version of me somewhere around here.

How bad does it have to be?

The me too hashtag. It's popping up all over to signify that you don't have to feel alone. And then, almost as many people who have seen it or maybe even say it are then perplexed. Why? Because they don't understand why saying it if it is so commonplace.

The hashtag was not meant ONLY for harassment, which I will agree is commonplace.
-Hey girl, why don't you smile, you'll be prettier.
-Shake that ass
-What? Why can't a guy just be friendly?
-Why can't you take a compliment?

Lewd gestures. Groping hands. Brushing touches. Staring, roaming eyes. None wanted.

yes. That is common. I also don't know a female who hasn't had to deal with it, ignore it, walk past it.

But, how bad does it have to get for the confusion to be gone?

If a person were to say, "Yes, I was raped", would that fine to speak up about?
or, I was a victim of sexual abuse as a child? or, I had my clothes ripped off, but he never got a chance to insert anything?

No, I was never raped.
No, I was never molested when I was younger.
No, I never was coerced to performing any sex act I did not want to.

But I did have to hide. I walked home alone from the corner bar to my house and an idiot in his SUV tried two slick lines and was upset I didn't return his attention with a smile. So he followed me. Down the street, turned onto the dead end street I lived on and followed me. I was able to slip into the shadows and waited until I knew his car was gone.

Was I raped? No.

Was I ever violated? No.
I think.

But I did have one night when I was out to a ball game with someone I had considered a friend and after the game was over, I wen to his place to sober up. I honestly can't remember what had happened while we were there, but I do vaguely remember something about his offering a backrub, but my only solid memory was that I had to relatch my bra and put my shirt on.

Or, another instance of finding out on the morning following a big farewell party that a friend saw me making out with someone I would never consider having any physical relationship with and then finding out that the male in question was sober enough to know how absolutely trashed I was, but decided to make a move anyway. And the odd betrayal I felt when I understood that my friend made no attempt whatsoever to make sure that I was ok with a strange choice.

Were those two stories something I hold myself accountable for? Yes. Does it scare me? Yes, anytime I think how horribly wrong either situation could have gone.

No, my story is not one of rape or child molestation. No, it is not a story of stupid comments from a caveman. It's somewhere in between and somewhat harder to explain and even possibly harder to defend why I contributed to #metoo.

Wave it off and say your 'Thank God"'s that it's not worse.

But I'm still not 100% ok with what it has done to me for the long run.

Long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile

It's been over a year since my last post.

We've been through fighting for Scott's job, making a major decision about our time here in Japan and finding out that we get to go back to our home state.

I'm happy. And tired. And sad. And excited. And desperately hoping I get to write down what is in my head so it doesn't just stay there to fester.

Here's to my wishes coming true.

When I was a boy, See that picture? That was me, Grass-stained shirtand dusty knees

Recently a friend tagged me on Facebook to notify me of a Kickstarter project. While I appreciate the need for this and I may buy this if found on a discount, here's where I lie on getting clothes (and general upbringing) for my daughter: why choose?

I don't think clothes should have to be either girly or boyish. Yes, there is a distinct lack of printed fabric with pirates or dinosaurs or zombies (except, I guess Monster High) in the girls' department, but why should this stop anyone to shop in just the CHILDREN'S department.

During her infant stage, I did encounter several Moms who would just take a glance and ask how old my baby boy was, based purely on the fact that she had short curly hair and a NY Giants onesie (or Mets, or a blue shirt), and I couldn't really hold it against people like that and their quick categorizations. That's fine. But that's not what irks me. I dressed her up (and still continue to dress her up) in things that are undeniably 'girly'. Examples:

But, there's nothing stopping me from doing this, either:

Mixing and matching from the entire department gives me options. It gives me the freedom to mix deep blue, a 'boy' color, with a pastel color, a 'girl'. But, wait -- there's more!

Why choose between girl activities and boy ones? I was in T-ball, jazz tap, baton twirling, volleyball, stage crew for the drama club, and babysat on a regular basis. There's nothing spectacular about this. And, I'll tell you, there was a long stretch of time where I thought to be a girl, I had to know makeup, and dress cute and not know about boy things. I got over that eventually.

The pushback also drives me a little batty. To put a label on yourself like 'tomboy' just because you are so emphatically trying to distance yourself from 'girly' forces girls choose on the flip side of the coin you are trying to fight against. (And, it also corners boys into feeling like they have to choose, too.)

I have Violet enrolled into ballet classes because at the time, that was the only class I could put a 3 year old girl. Do I have visions of Sugerplum fairies dancing in my head?

While she does make an adorable fairy, no - I had her in that class to learn teamwork, listening and to play with other kids her age. The VERY MOMENT she is old enough to try to throw her hips in an attitude position, pout and sashay around, I will let her finish out the recital and get her into T-ball or ANY OTHER activity that will help teach her teamwork, sportsmanship and listening skills. Mamma ain't got time for divas. (Not when she wants to get dirty like this:)

Nothing should really limit me in what I encourage. My only concern is to make my daughter a better human. Sports? Sure, go for it - in participation or knowledge, or for the pure enjoyment of watching. Fashion? Sure, go ahead and know what styles you like. But, just as Coco Chanel is a style, so is Punky Brewster. Construction? Sure, you should know how to operate simple tools without fear.

Dress down, dress up. Original Legos, Lego 'Friends'. Dinosaurs, baby dolls. DC/Marvel Comics, Disney princesses. (Disney princesses is an entire different can of worms of which I will eventually jot down ideas.)

When I Was a Boy - Dar Williams

It's 'and', not 'or'. And to play.

(ADDITIONAL NOTE: I know this is going to be slightly harder to apply for people raising boys, namely for the clothing part. But I don't have a son and only know about raising a daughter, so keep that in mind.)

Hello, How are you, Won't you tell me your name

When asked about how I was as a baby, my Mother likes to tell one story in particular over and over. She was living with my Dad and her little baby in Japan where she got to be friendly but was mostly quiet and didn't talk to many people while walking down the street. But she would notice people giving big smiles and would wave and she was confused for only a moment until she figured out the baby she was carrying was waving and smiling enthusiastically to EVERYone in her eye line. That was me: friendly, cheerful and emphatic.

That continued to be me until my preteen/teen years beat my emotional growth up. I still was able to make friends, but I let myself get too shy, too reserved. My bravery to approach people and have the notion that the good ones will become friends with me was muted. And for years, I let that shyness take over and limited my involvement and weakened my comfort level with people,

Then, I became a mother. And within the early stages of motherhood, I spent some serious time reflecting on what I can do to help the emotional growth of my daughter. I knew that I had to protect and cultivate her confidence level, for that is the best weapon against bullies and peer pressure.

Just recently, my Momma-Bear rage nearly got away from me when I witnessed a girl 2-3 years older than Violet try to openly exclude her because she decided she ONLY wanted to play with their mutual friend and not had to have the 'baby' play with them. I know that is how kids are, but her openly hostile bossiness gave me the instant fight-or-flight rush that made me want to immediately grab the brat by her shoulders and have a talk (ok, "shout" is more appropriate) with her about how to play nicely, especially with kids younger than her. But, I saw no reaction in Violet's face. Thankfully, she was blissfully unaware of what was being said, so I acted quickly, scooped Violet and her things up and whisked her downstairs to Scott so that she never knew of her "mean girl" encounter and I could continue with my meeting.

She was fine - she got to play with other girls and had a great time. But I had to spend the rest of the day getting my inner child to calm down. I know I have to get a grip and this won't be the last time, and the day Violet does get her feelings hurt, I have to prepare myself so that I can act like an adult.

Right now, Violet is so friendly and wants to be so engaged in people's lives by wanting to know if they have a family, how many kids, what are their names, where do they live on base, do they have pets ---questions, questions, hundreds of questions to get to know someone. Anyone. EVERYONE. People at the store, People on the phone. People Scott works with. People I volunteer with. Every. Single. Person. And I love it. She not only asks, but she remembers. And she files it away and she continues to broaden her friend-database.

For as long as I can, for as much as I can, I have to protect this. I cannot pass down my insecurities to her (as much as I can help that). I have to do that and somehow come to place where I don't personalize what she goes through. But, as in all things, this is a life in progress.

The one beautiful byproduct of watching my daughter's outgoing personality is that I have slowly rediscovered my own roots. I have taken her lead and have become more who I once was. Friendly, and more importantly, less afraid.

Sees babies everywhere she goes, And she wants (another) one of her own

When I was little, the only thing I knew for certain about my future was that I wanted to be a Mom. I didn't wonder what kind of husband I thought I would have or how my wedding would look or even where I would be living or what I would be doing for a living. Just that I was going to be a Mom to a small clan of offspring.

Well, 3 years ago, that wish came true with the birth of my daughter. I was everything normal for a first time mother. Nervous, scared, relieved, thankful, scared (because that feeling is worth mentioning twice), and truly blessed. Then, news came that Scott would have to spend a year away from us in Greenland and I decided that timing would work out fantastically so that we can have a little bit of time between Violet and the next baby. But, in all pure honesty, I was afraid of being pregnant with him away.

During my pregnancy, Scott was so unbelievably incredible that I was frightened at the thought of carrying our next child without him. So, I reasonably lobbied to wait and we’d start trying after he got back and in our first year of being in Japan. I thought that once my body bounced back from halting the birth control, we’d be pregnant in a few months. Tops.

Now it’s been over a year. Yes, most people have been optimistic and confident and encouraging, saying a year is not that long and we should keep trying. But sometimes people are too quick to encourage and not quick enough to listen. I say that I am 36 and they say, ‘oh, that’s not that old, you still have time!’ without really letting me say, no, my body does not feel 36. It feels 86. Joints, muscle, skeletal issues for me and a very present ankle problem for Scott. We have trouble literally chasing after Violet.

For a year, every time I find myself having a period, every time I see someone else’s news of a pregnancy, every time I am invited to a baby shower, I have the pang in my heart.  Most of the time I can get over it with a renewed sense of hope. But it's been harder and harder to get to that hopeful place with every passing month.

I count myself lucky with Violet and I do feel selfish complaining about my lack of a second child while I know ladies who have had miscarriages and still have no child. But my guilt over my selfish complaining usually is drowned out by pain.

I know we have other avenues, of course, and I’ve met one mother who went to an infertility doctor while here in Japan and another mother who has adopted both of her children, so I know I have at least two resources I can talk to in person. I’m not sure if we’re going to look into adoption (which would be more likely of a choice for me) or if we’ll decide to not pursue having a second child. I don’t know. I have doctor appointments lined up and I’m forcing myself to just wait. Pray and wait.

With the wheezes And the sneezes, And a sinus that's really a pip!

Being sick sucks. 

Being sick sucks on Valentine's Day, especially when your husband hasn't been home the last two. 

Having everyone in the house sick sucks. 

Being sick sucks when you're ovulating and the likliehood of getting pregnant is very low. 

I am mad at the whole situation and frustrated is not even close to the word that applies.

Sucks. Sucks. Sucks.

By throwing back the blanket, hanging down the withered leg(s)

Today was the first day of using the daycare on base. Since Violet is mere weeks from turning 3, they've allowed us to put her in the preschool 3-5 group and the set up looks really fun. During the orientation last week, all Violet wanted to do was rip her hand out of mine and go play. But, alas, not today.

This attitude of separation anxiety is not new. But between today's tantrum and Friday's failed attempted for ballet class (her 2nd class; the first class went so well and she said she enjoyed it a lot), I'm really having a hard time not feeling horrible. But feeling horrible is the whole reason why we decided to endure the 8 month waiting list of getting into the daycare.

There was a scene in "Friends" when Phoebe told Ross that she didn't really believe in gravity because she felt she wasn't being pulled down to earth by an unseen force as much as she felt like she's being pushed. Why do I mention this? Because with my arthritis issues, this is the easiest way I can think of to describe how I feel. I constantly have to trudge through my days. I have good days where I can actually sit up in bed without having to grip the edge of the mattress to get up, but even on the good days I can't seem to will lifting my right leg to climb stairs. My right foot is turned inward most of the time while I walk, and the image of Kevin Spacey walking in "Usual Suspects" is how I can describe my stride. All is to say, I am using daycare not because I work, but because I can't do my job of being a Mommy.

As I wrote this, my eyes are tearing. Because I hate admitting that I can't keep up with my toddler and throughout the day I feel less and less like a lovingly patient mother and more of an angry tyrant always barking at my little girl. I don't want to be a mean mommy.

I want so much to feel ok. I had a doctor's appointment that basically just ended with blood being drawn for lab tests and a follow up that won't happen for another couple weeks. So, still no answers.

And, forgive the TMI, we've been trying to get pregnant and yesterday I was met with another indication that we have to try again next month. But even that is riddled with conflict because, as much as I want Violet to be an older sister, I don't know what my body will do with the severe pain on top of being pregnant.

With all of the physical and mental anguish aside, I do need to figure out my balance of being a Mommy and being a person. I have recently volunteered to help with the OSS welcoming committee and hopefully I will be going through training on becoming a key spouse. There are specific reasons why I've decided to do this, but that will have to be for another blog post.

For now, I think I'll start my first day of Violet's daycare with a cup of coffee, a real breakfast and chill out before getting her in about 2 hours. I sure hope she's doing ok right now.

Just to rant to get this out of my system

I hate my body.

Not in the way where I think I'm too short or fat or unattractive. In the way where I am angry I can't walk normally. My joints in my legs, back, neck, feet won't work properly. At 16, I first experienced the mind blowing pain of not being able to roll out of bed. I would have to grip the edge of something so that I could heave myself out of bed. Then my right hip wouldn't allow me to walk without a limp. Over the last 20 years, the pain would ebb and flow and move. There were a good many years where I wasn't afflicted with anything severe. Luckily, I wasn't completely debilitated during pregnancy. But now, I can't get up out of my chair at will without having to steel my brain for the forthcoming pain that is standing up. Or moving. Or even having a sudden, violent sneeze.

For a year, Scott was gone, so the understanding was to use that year as a nice buffer between children. When he got back to me, we'd start trying for number 2. We always wanted more than one child and Violet is enamored of other people's little children. Yes, I know it's different, but we wanted it. But I just can't seem to have it happen. I know it's not my timing, and there is a strong possibility that having our own again will happen. I'm considering adoption, but that's not the step yet. I just can't let the sadness of not being pregnant go yet. I've always had a 'deadline' of sorts because I know how faulty my body is. There is no way we can keep up with an infant/toddler/young child past a certain age, and sadly, my body had decided to act like an 80 year old with severe osteoporosis.

Soon, I will completely have to reconcile this possible loss. I'm on my last little bit of hope of becoming pregnant, but optimism is fading fast. So, I spend a little bit of my day to day spontaneously crying for my stupid body and how much I hate things being beyond my control.

I am not worried, I am not overly concerned

This time of year always makes me a little blue. Not just the grey skies, but the fall air has a way of making me remember and I feel compelled to listen to music that does nothing but make those memories stronger. We've all moved on and we all turned out ok. Strange byproducts of the intensity, like being able to correctly hear cries of help from others, reaffirms my belief that our paths crossed for a reason. Scars were created for a reason. But so was healing. Like all deep cuts, they may never bother us after the healing is complete, but what remains will always have us remember. I don't regret it, so I don't mind still carrying it with me. I don't mind the tears or the sadness, because we all are fine. By Thanksgiving, I'll be fine again.

Doctor, Doctor, Gimmie the news....

Life in the last 48 hours:

Friday afternoon around 2pm - Violet woke up from her nap and was her normal, rambunctious self and was trying to see what I was doing in the kitchen, but I put my hand up to shoo her away because I was making ramen on the stove. She took this as a major affront and started stamping her feet and threw a massive fit. I finally get a chance to pick her up and I can feel that she is warmer than usual. It took me about 20 minutes to figure out a way to calm her down and take her temperature. When I finally did, it read 102.-something. I call Scott to get his advice on if I should go to Urgent Care, but he suggested just a bath first and then see how things are when he gets home. We do this and the temp still reads 102-something. The funny thing is, other than the tantrum, she's fine. Eating, drinking, playing and was probably more of a cuddle-monkey, but fine. We give her food, Tylenol, Curious George watching, a story and set her down for bedtime. She woke up twice, but finally settled at around 10pm and slept the night.

Saturday morning: she woke up chipper, completely fine, and no trace of a fever. The trick I finally learned to get her to let me take her temperature was to have her hum with me while the numbers went up. Temperature was back to normal, and her appetite never really changed. She wanted to have pancakes, so we had pancakes: purple ones with white chocolate chips. Morning play followed by normal nap.

Saturday afternoon: after her nap, I cooked up some pasta and gave her a little bit of tomato sauce, which is rare. She ate fine, played and had one very messy diaper. It wasn't until about 4:30 when we were getting ready to head out that I noticed a rash around her mouth. She had a rash on her chin, but I had figured that it was from the taggie blanket she constantly sucks on while she sleeps. While we were at the block party, we saw the rash on her arms, legs, back and shoulders and one bump on her lip and a (mosquito?) bite on her leg. With the trip coming so soon, we didn't want to mess around, so we went to Urgent Care. They took her vitals, checked out her mouth and said, yeah, it could be an allergic reaction to the tomato (she's had that before, but only around her mouth, probably because of the acid just settling on her face and us not wiping it off quickly) and not Hand Foot and Mouth Disease (HFMD), which has been going around on base. We go home, have dinner, read, watch more George and off to bed, this time with no fussiness.

Sunday: rash is still there, no fever since Friday, still energetic, playful and hungry. We go about our day just fine until around 4pm after eating watermelon. I noticed more bumps on her lips and now, a white bump on her tongue. Back to UC, same caregiver, and now a confirmation that it is HFMD. Nothing too bad, nothing alarming since she was hamming it up for him and displayed she was fine and playful, but still, that's what Violet has.

I don't blame the dude on changing his mind since Violet looked like she was just having a mild reaction. But now, I'm a little scared about how this will play out while we are away. I do, however, have the comfort in knowing that since we're going to be at Tripler Army Hospital anyway, we won't be far from doctors that can take a look at her.

MOMMY NOTE: So, apparently you are not supposed to give the child anything acidic while she has HFMD, like tomato or orange juice. I did both within the same day. Whoops.

I'm a traveling man, Made a lot of stops all over the world

This is the first moment I've been able to sit and take stock of what has happened in the last week. Actually, what has happened in the last year, because that's how far I'm taking this flashback.

End of September 2012, I arrived in New York City to hang out with some friends for a few days, go to another friend's wedding, travel from Northern NJ down to Baltimore and catch a flight to Greenland so that I could visit with Scott for a week. But, instead of all of that, I found out on the day that I landed in NYC that Scott had broken his ankle and was going to be transported to an army hospital in Virginia. He and I spent the majority of October in a hotel in Fort Belvoir, having him go through two separate surgeries. We were still able to have fun and I was even lucky enough to catch a post season MLB game at the Washington Nationals stadium, thus crossing that off my "list of stadiums to go to." Not too shabby.

Montage time: Scott finishes his time in Greenland, we pack up our home in Colorado, have a loooong awaited reception for our wedding, move to Japan, live in Yokota for 4 months.

In all that time, Scott was still limping. He finally gets a doctor here at Yokota to look at it and then flew down to Hawaii for a further assessment, came back and told me he needed to get another surgery because a) the bones never healed properly and they are fusing incorrectly and b) a screw that was placed in his ankle has broken. Keep in mind: Scott had previously broken THE SAME ANKLE back in August 2009.

Conclusion: his surgery must take place in Hawaii again, he is required to have a chaperone to travel and stay with him. Sounds fantastic, right? We'll get back to this, because in the meanwhile....

One of our mutual and close friends gets engaged and was to be married 6 months after the engagement. Scott and I made the decision to send me to represent the Fourres and have Scott and Violet stay behind. I went, I cried, I partied, I laughed. I was also a walking zombie because of the jet lag and time difference, but I was able to cowboy up for a good time.

I then flew back and only after one good night's sleep, I tried to tackle the possibility of Scott having to leave for Hawaii a day before Violet and me. Looking down the barrel of an 8 hour flight and being the only one to wrangle a very active 2 year old was a little bit too much for me to wrap my head around. Especially considering we had less than a week to nail down the details and were coming up against a 4 day weekend (stupid Labor Day....)

In order to nail down said details, we needed Scott to receive his orders. In order to do that, I had to fill out some paperwork, though it took me three trips to the hospital offices to do this. Time check? Wednesday the 28th and Scott is (semi-)scheduled to leave on Monday the 2nd for a surgery on Wednesday the 4th. On Thursday, it took some major wandering (and LOTS of patience), only to have to wait a bit more for Scott to finally leave work early to sort out Violet's plane ticket.

The final outcome to this story is that we finally got our flights, our hotel and Scott's surgery all arranged by 3pm Thursday, cutting this really close to the 3:30pm end of office hours and a Friday and Monday closure of these offices.

Yes, it turned out alright in the end. But I am not an adrenaline junkie who needs the rush of success at the last minute. I'd much rather not go greyer than I have to and have a few more years on my life.

Grand Marnier French Toast

Last recipe-related post for the evening: MORE FRENCH TOAST!

Again, I was at a loss for what to do for dinner, so my fallback is always brinner. I had retrieved a free bottle of Grand Marnier from a family who is PCS'ing (Permanent Change of Station - basically, people/families who are moving onto their next base) and I figured I should make use of the windfall by making something yummy.


Grand Marnier French Toast

Ingredients

• 4 large eggs
• 3/4 cup half and half
• 1/4 cup Grand Marnier or other orange-flavored liqueur or frozen orange juice concentrate, thawed
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 tablespoon grated orange peel
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 8 3/4-inch-thick French bread slices

• 4 tablespoons(1/2 stick) butter

Preparation

Whisk first 6 ingredients to blend in medium bowl. Dip each bread slice into egg mixture and arrange in 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Pour remaining egg mixture evenly over bread. Let stand until egg mixture is absorbed, at least 20 minutes. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.)

Place baking sheet in oven and preheat to 350&F. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Add 4 bread slices to skillet and saut&until cooked through and brown, about 3 minutes per side. Place on baking sheet in oven to keep warm. Repeat cooking with remaining 2 tablespoons butter and 4 bread slices. Transfer French toast to 4 plates. Sift powdered sugar over. Serve with maple syrup.

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In an unusual move, I strayed from the path right from the start. Judging from my last try at French toast and the fact that I ran out of batter and butter from the get go, I adjusted. Also, I had no half and half, so I made do. Here are the adjustments:

5 eggs
1 1/2 TBsp water
1 1/2 TBsp  milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp banana extract
7 TBsp butter
1/8 c Grand Marnier

That last tweak was because I was a little worried that the alcohol wouldn't burn off completely and I was serving it to Violet. Yay, responsibility!

The recipe turned out pretty well and I had batter to spare, so I just fried it up like it was regular scrambled eggs. The eggs tasted a tad greasy, but pretty good other than that. Definitely warranting a bit of variation, but good overall.

Strawberries N Cream Pudding Cookies

Here's my Pinterest board for food.

And the next recipe I followed was for Strawberries N Cream Pudding Cookies.

Ingredients

• 1 cup butter softened
• 2 TB strawberry jello
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1 3.5 oz. box white chocolate pudding package instant
• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 bag white chocolate chips 

 

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 350.
2. Cream butter, sugar and jello together. Add eggs and vanilla and mix well.
3. In a separate bowl, mix together flour, pudding mix, baking soda and salt. Slowly add to butter mixture. Mix well. Add vanilla.
4. Stir in white chocolate chips.
5. Spoon onto a greased baking sheet. Bake for 9-11 minutes. ENJOY!

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I didn't take any pictures of the process and I did have to tweak the recipe a bit right away because the commissary didn't sell white chocolate pudding, but all in all, the cookies came out pretty good.

I've decided that I want to combine other pudding/jello combo's and I have yet to do it a second time, but I do have a bag of puddings and jello's waiting for me to try again.

I also figured out that I have to become friends with my neighbors in my building or the Fourres will became very round.

Banana Stuffed French Toast

Ok - first entry to my foodventure. I was going to start with what I hinted at a couple of blog entries ago: the moscato cupcakes. However, the site where I got the recipe is going through some maintenance, so rather than posting a bum link, I'll move onto the next recipe.

Banana Stuffed French Toast

I was struggling to figure out what to do for Scott's birthday dinner. As an adult, he's come away from really doing anything to 'celebrate' his birthday, which is too strange to me, who 'CELEBRATES' her birthday for about a month. I would have a New Orleans' style parade if I didn't have to organize it.

But, because his birthday fell on a Monday and the weekend got away from me, I found myself scrambling at 9am to figure out what to do. I went to the Seiyu to get even the smallest gift that Violet could 'give' to her Daddy for his birthday, like the green tea Kit Kats he's grown to love, when I came across a small travel bottle of Cointreau. This reminded me that I've always wanted to try to make fancy french toast. So, the plan formed and I hit Google for the recipe. This is what I came across: banana stuffed French toast.

Here's the recipe:

Original recipe makes 6 servings

• 1 (1 pound) loaf French bread, cut into 1 inch slices
• 2 bananas, peeled and sliced
• 3 eggs, beaten
• 1 teaspoon water
• 1 tablespoon milk

• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 tablespoon orange liqueur
• 1 teaspoon grated orange zest
• 1/4 cup butter
• confectioners' sugar for dusting

Directions

1. Create a pocket about 2/3 of the way into each slice of bread by cutting along an edge. Fill pockets with 2 or 3 banana slices each.
2. In a medium bowl, beat together eggs, water, milk, vanilla extract, orange liqueur and orange zest. Dip the bread slices in the mixture, allowing slices to become saturated.
3. Melt butter in a medium skillet over medium heat. Place a few slices at a time in the skillet, and cook, turning once, until both sides are golden brown. Dust with confectioners' sugar to serve.

 

In the first run of the process, I found that I need to add more butter and make more batter for the next time: the well ran a little dry for the last few pieces. I also think that there needs to be a creamy aspect to the middle with the bananas, so the next time I'll be adding a bit of pudding in the middle just to give it that extra little kick.

I have decided that I want this to be my signature birthday dinner for my family, so this gives me the incentive to perfect this recipe. I do want to explore other recipes, like Creme Brulee French Toast or Grand Marnier French Toast (I've tried the latter and I tweaked the recipe right out the gate; more on that later). Here's hoping I keep up on this aspect to my blog.

Just keep cooking... just keep cooking...

Oh! And for the actual foodies out there: please give me tips!! I'll try to incorporate them and let you know how/when I do =)

Teach Your Children Well - Noodles, DIY puzzle, Popsicle Stick Shapes

Other ways that I have been entertaining Violet (and teaching her fine motor skills) was to use anything you can find around the house. Well, maybe not popsicle sticks, unless you eat a lot of popsicles, but that is a perfect challenge for hot, summer days.

Noodles
Finding big tubular, pasta noodles, like ziti, is easy enough and as is finding yarn. Here's what I didn't realize right away - yarn is uncooperative.

Upon my mother's suggestion, I got shoelaces. Luckily, there is a store for military gear at the BX, so I was able to get very long and sturdy shoelaces that wouldn't get mixed up with Scott's uniform. I also threw in a couple of short Solo cups (clear), an empty tissue box and one of my espresso cups for Violet to play and transfer the noodles. She loves it. She even is enthusiastic about clean-up because she gets to hold the zip-lock baggie and control the situation.

DIY Puzzles
This was the simplest activity to do. All you have to do is take a cereal box, cut it into how ever many pieces or shapes you think your kid can handle and, VOILA! got yourself a simple puzzle. I used 4 different boxes and I made sure to label the backs of the cardboard just so I can set out one puzzle at a time and not confuse Violet. We're still working on this and I found that it's easiest to take a cell phone pic of the 'finished' puzzle for her to work off of.

Popsicle Stick Shapes
This is also a very simple project. Make simple shapes, ie. triangle, rectangle, diamond and square, out of popsicle sticks, trace them onto a piece of construction paper, and allow your kid to place the sticks on top of the traced lines to learn shapes. The extra step I took was to then put the construction paper in a page protector so that I can keep a lot of the loose papers in a three-ring binder for easy access. This also keeps Violet from ripping up the paper, just in case the destructive mood strikes her.

Teach your children well - Clay

In the past several months, I have been very motivated to actually implement the activities I pin on my Pinterest board for contructive kid play. There are friends of mine who are out there who have asked to be included in what I discover works. So, I'll try to keep track of Violet (and my) progress on the blog. I'll try to add as many personal pictures of either making each project or action shots of Violet playing with it, as well as the links of where I got the ideas just in case anyone wants to explore any of the sites I stumble upon.

The first activity I'll post is about clay. Yes, you can purchase Play-Doh and skip the whole process of making your own clay. Your arms and upper back may thank you. However, I HATE the smell of Play-Doh - I'm not even sure why. So, when I found a recipe for clay AND the fact that, miracle of all miracles, the commissary actually carries the gel food coloring, I forged ahead and made clay, like my mother did for us.

The major difference between the clay my Mom made and this clay recipe was that it didn't leave the hands grainy or tasting like a salt lick. That was a nice discovery. Here's the recipe:

Make clay
Ingredients:

1 cup water

2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 cup flour
1/4 cup salt
2 tbsp cream of tartar
gel food coloring
*I used Wilton brand in Rose, Orange, Lemon Yellow, Leaf Green, Sky Blue, and Violet

Directions:

1. Pour the water and vegetable oil in a saucepan. Add in the flour, salt, cream of tarter and a teaspoon or two of gel food coloring. Lightly stir together to combine.
   *The dough will end up being about the same color that it is now, so add more food coloring now if you want the color to be richer/brighter.
2. Cook the mixture over medium heat, stirring constantly. It should be done in about 4-5 minutes. Because you might panic and think you've ruined it, here is a breakdown of what it looks like throughout the cooking process:
   • Minute 1: The mixture will combine, and look smooth and beautiful!
   • Minute 2: You'll start to get chunks. Make sure to keep scraping the bottom and edges of the pan to prevent any pieces from burning.
   • Minute 3: This is where you might begin to worry that you've messed it up. Looks like a clumpy mess. Don't panic! Just keep stirring!!
   • Minute 4: The dough will start to form into a ball. You'll know when it's ready when it's not sticky and pulls away from the pan. You can test by pressing the dough with your fingers. It will be hot!
3. Remove the dough from the pan and place on a plate to cool.
4. Once cool, knead the dough. This can be done by you or little helpers!
5. To store, wrap the dough in plastic wrap and place in a sealed container.
   *I purchased a couple of 5-pack Rubbermaid TakeAlongs® containers (17 oz) at WalMart and the dough fits perfectly!

A few notes:

• Each batch makes about 2 cups of dough. You need to make a new batch for each color. It took me less than an hour to make all 6 batches.
• Surprisingly, the food coloring doesn't come off on your hands at all.
• The dough is safe to eat, but it is disgusting!
• Buy more cream of tartar than you think you'll need. I got 2 1/2 batches from one 1.5 oz container.
• Regular liquid food coloring will also work, but I think the gel makes the color a little more vibrant. Liquid food coloring may also come off on your hands

And some of my own pictures:

This was just the right size for storage

 All together, I made 6 colors: red, blue, yellow, green, orange and purple. The green was the easiest secondary color to make since there was a green food coloring tube already. I just added a bit more blue to make it a tad more vibrant. The orange was a bit tough, but I think it turned out alright and the purple was hardest of all. Mixing your own coloring helps insert your own creativity in the process, which I really liked.

So far, it's a pretty big hit and I figure if the clay dries out or the something odd happens to the clay (I'm always a little worried about things molding in this humidity), Violet will just be more and more useful as a helper in the making of her own toys.

Also, a helpful tip: if you have carpeting like I do, using a shower curtain as a drop cloth is the cheapest solution I can come up with to avoid any bits of clay being flung (accidentally or otherwise) and ground into the carpet.

Everybody come and play, Throw every last care away

There is a community center here on base called the Yujo. One of the great things they do for you here is provide maps to all sorts of local interest points: zoos, amusement parks, shopping centers, etc.

Scott and I were looking at the map indicating secondhand stores around the base. There is a chain of these stores called Hard Off and they sell everything from toys to clothes, housewares to small furniture items. I've heard from others who have found electronics and records. We were able to find a cabinet for 1260 yen. and it is definitely a fun place to treasure hunt and I've only been to one of them.

What we finally bought

It was during our driving around trying to find this place that we accidentally got a little lost and found the Aeon Mall. Again, I've heard others talk about this place, but I didn't get to experience it until the next time the Fourre family decided to go on a local adventure.

Like many other malls, it was three floors jam packed with people milling around on a Sunday afternoon. The differences were that this had better looking eateries and an arcade section that would make American kid gamers weep.

The different life levels of the mall. All of them achieved.

Do mall. DO IT!!

Look! Your kids can be rats in a maze while you shop!

Crazy arcade space

You are SO kawaii

 

Where to find music from the US

One of the weirder things I saw at the mall

Speaking of kids, there is a Babies/Toys R Us near here, too. We went last weekend to purchase some baby shower gifts and I was happy to see that even though the layout is very similar to the ones in the States, it's crammed full of things like the Toys R Us of the 80's used to be.

MOVE.YOUR.SPOOOOOON!

Anime Barbie

Creepy corner protectors... Maybe it's the Thing in a Mickey Mouse Halloween costume

Maybe it's the outfit, but Geoffrey looks vaguely Asian

Happiest Asian baby in disco threads

This is just the tip of the shopping iceberg and this is also just the places in the immediate vicinity of the base. I'm anxious to see more.