"But Twins Don't Run in My Family"

If you have ever wondered how the conversation would go (or what brainless things you might say) when the news was told to expecting and completely clueless parents that they were having twins, well, here you go:

Dr: Ok. Ok. (turning the monitor towards us) So, here you can see…

Nick: Wait…is that

Dr: Here you can see the first baby…

Me: Uh….First baby?

Dr: And here you can see the second baby…

Me: But twins don’t run in my family!

Dr: Um…ok…well…you’re still having twins. 

Nick: Oh my god.

Me:………

Dr: And here is the first heartbeat. Everything looks great so far.

Me: ……..

Dr: Ok. Breathe. 

Me: *Oh right…*

Dr: Good. And…deep breathe. Good. It’s going to be ok.

Me: …….

Dr: And here is the second heartbeat.

Nick: ……

Dr: So everything looks great.  Obviously this is big news so I’m going to give you two a few minutes alone to digest this. Come down to my office when you’re ready and we’ll chat.

Nick: …...

Me: …….K…..

The rest of that day was kind of a blur.  Nick held my hand on the way home and repeatedly told me everything was going fine and that we would be great parents.  I sat there staring at the ultrasound photos trying but failing miserably not to cry.  To clarify, they weren't tears of sadness.  How could you be sad about two healthy babies!?  They were more tears of excitement, joy, shock and probably throw in some ‘Oh sh!t how are we going to do this/pay for this/can I carry twins.’ 

Nick met me at the door when I got home from work that night and gave me a big hug, reassuring me again that everything was going to be fine. I don’t remember what we ate for dinner or what we discussed at the table.  Though there is a good probability it was nothing…to both. 

It’s funny to think back now and recall some of the conversations Nick and I had before the first appointment.  I remember saying to each other “ Wouldn't it be funny if we were having twins?” or “Could you imagine if we went in and the doctor told us there were two?”  Perhaps deep down both of us knew we were having twins.  I have no idea.  But I kind of want to believe we did.  Now when I look back on the day we found out and imagine what our family will be like next year, I can’t help but think well of course we were supposed to have twins.  While it did take me a few weeks for the news to settle in, the thought of anything other than us preparing for two little ones just doesn't seem right.  

When Nick and I broke the news to family and friends that we are expecting twins, I can’t tell you how many people asked us if we were surprised.  All I can say is this:  I wouldn't have been more surprised if I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet. 

Extra points if you can name that movie.

Election Night in DC

Sporting an “I Voted” sticker in DC on election night is like wearing a VIP wristband at a hoppin’ club in LA.  (Or whatever you wear/flash for those of us that aren’t cool enough to do so.) That tiny little circle gets you into bars without paying a cover fee, discounted food around town, free swag and a whole other host of privileges.  Clearly it’s the cool thing to do. 

This year’s presidential election night was no different.  My friends and coworkers around town waited in hours-long lines to vote, poured over early polls all afternoon in the office and then headed out to enjoy half priced specialty cocktails for the political party of their choice.  One coworker, who absentee voted in their home state, even begged for my sticker as we were walking out the door since he didn’t save his.  I’m telling you…these things are like gold. And yes, I gave it to him.

Since coming to Washington I’ve spent election night in Florida where I was campaigning for the RNC, bars to take in the action with fellow young professionals, at a campaign event for McCain and I’m pretty sure my sister’s house enjoying take out and wine.  But this year I decided it was time to enjoy something a little quieter. 

I sent a text to Nick early afternoon on Election Day and suggested a delicious Pizza Hut pizza for dinner.  He agreed.  I had a grand plan to leave work, go to my yoga class and come home to watch the results with pizza, a fire and my sweat pants.  In the end I wound up napping through yoga and dinner (whoops) and was woken up by Nick at 9:30pm to watch some of the results.  We made a frozen pizza and I was back in bed two hours later after the election was called and I saw the Congressman from my home district in Illinois lost.  This year’s election night may be categorized by some as a bust.  And in some ways it was. 

But when I decided I was ready for bed on Tuesday night, I crawled into bed.  I didn’t have to worry about the metro taking forever or finding a cab.  I didn’t have to worry about sitting around a crowded bar in my cute but sometimes oh-so-uncomfortable work clothes.  And I didn’t have to worry about absentmindedly drinking too many half priced cocktails full well knowing I was going to have one hell of a hangover the next day.  Yep, been there. Done all that.  Didn’t need to do it again. And even after sleeping through most of the evening I can honestly say this year’s election night celebrations were just what I needed. 

Franken-Storm-Ageddon

Whoever came up with the name Frankenstorm deserves a raise. 

The meteorologists at the Weather Channel have been tracking this storm for what seems like weeks.  Each day they were talking about the horrible mess it was going to create and speculating which model path would be correct.  I didn’t give it much thought and the only stocking up we did was pick up some extra firewood. We joked at work on Friday about how lovely it would be to have the day off on Monday since we unfortunately didn’t have a single snow day in DC last year.  But my doubts were high.  I figured it would be another hyped up East Coast storm that didn’t amount to anything but a few sprinkles and some knocked over lawn chairs.

Yesterday as we were standing in the check out line at the grocery store we received word the Federal Government announced it would be closed on Monday.  I’m not ashamed to say I gave a cheer and did a little dance.  Yes I got some stares.  In my mind even if the storm didn’t add amount to anything, I still received a three-day weekend without taking a vacation day.  Ah life is grand.

Fast forward to this morning when I woke up and looked outside thinking there would be snow.  After all, it’s a day off due to inclement weather and that typically means snow.  Nope, just rain.  And wind. Nick had left for work hours earlier so after making myself some breakfast I headed out to the store to get some bare necessities- cinnamon rolls, Jelly Belly Sours….and ingredients to make dinner for tonight.  Surprisingly the store shelves were pretty well stocked and I got everything on my list.

I will say this has been one of the most productive days I’ve had in weeks.  My house is cleaner then it has been in, well, awhile, the last load of laundry is in the dryer and my mom’s vegetable beef soup recipe is simmering on the stove. And we received word that the government, and my office, is closed again tomorrow.  I will celebrate in approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes when Nick gets home safely from work.  Tonight I’m looking forward to building a fire and filling my tummy with warm, delicious soup.  Maybe even kicking Nick’s butt at Rummikub.  What I’m not looking forward to is the wind gusts of up to 80-90 mph and pelting rain against the windows.  There are a lot of tall trees around our house and yes, I’m worried one is going to come crashing through out roof. 

As for tomorrow?  I have no idea. Except that it will start with cinnamon rolls.  It’s another bonus day and I actually don’t have anything on my ‘To Do’ list.  Ok ok I may have one or two tiiiiny things. But the good news is it also happens to coincide with Nick’s scheduled day off so we will be enjoying whatever we decide to do together. 

So all I can say for right now is thank you Franken-Storm-Ageddon.  Well, that is until we lose power. 

My Complete and Utter Distain for Chocolate Chip Cookies

It should be no surprise to anyone that has read my blog that I love to bake.  Give me an excuse, or no excuse at all, and I will be more than happy to whip up a tasty treat. With one exception.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to profess my complete and utter distain for an American favorite: the chocolate chip cookie.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  “Nestle Tollhouse commercials show the perfect family making cookies together with a smile on their faces and enjoying every second.” Well, I’m here to set the record straight. 

This afternoon I received a text from Nick saying one of the firefighters he mentored passed a big test.  Fantastic news!  Nick had told him the day before that if he passed, I would bake his favorite dessert.  Nick’s station is no stranger to my culinary skills.  I love baking for them and it’s always appreciated. So when I got the text bearing the good news I asked what I was making.  He said the unthinkable…chocolate chip cookies.  I asked Nick if his fellow firefighter would change his mind and rattled off a list of other baked goods I had perfected.  But alas, chocolate chip cookies it was.

I got home and went straight to the kitchen. The dough turned out fantastic and the cookies became a lovely golden brown.  They looked picture perfect. Well, that is until I had to take them off the cookie sheet.  For some reason or another, every.single.time. I make these freaking cookies they fall apart from the center out.

I am the first to admit that I have slight OCD when baking because in my mind, if the end result looks like a crumpled mess, no one is going to eat it. (I secretly blame my 4-H days).  I ended up getting so frustrated with the half dozen destroyed cookies that I tossed spatula into the sink, grabbed the bowl of cookie dough and a spoon and sat down at the table to drown my sorrows.  Nick and his patience were able to successfully get the cookies off the sheet without doing too terribly much damage.  That’s why we make a good pair.  BUT I don’t get it!  Why don’t these stupid cookies just come out in one piece just like every other cookie I make?  Why do these have to be so difficult? And WHY do these have to be the favorite of not one, but TWO firefighters at Nick’s station.  Ugh…

In the end about three dozen decently looking cookies were packed up to be brought in to the station in the morning. Yes I survived but that doesn’t mean I like these cookies any better.  In fact, I may hate them even more as I lay curled up in a ball on our couch simultaneously wanting to get sick from eating about 5 cookies worth of dough and craving a little more.  Damn these cookies anyway. 

The Old Standby

When I first moved to DC my sister Rachel and I shared the cutest apartment in a fantastic neighborhood called Fairlington.  Every weekend without fail we had a routine of bran muffins with fruit on one day and cinnamon rolls with fruit on the other.  We also threw in the occasional Dunkin Donuts. The first time my sister said she was making these muffins I was not all that excited.  It's bran for crying out loud!  Aren't those for people, you know, our grandparents' age? But all it took was one time and I was hooked.

Nick and I have kept a somewhat similar rotation but now we've also added in Panera and Starbucks which are both just a quick walk down the street from our house.  Yes, it gets us in trouble.  And it's expensive.  This morning I went to my kickboxing class and Nick went for a 24 mile bike ride so we both worked up a nice appetite.  Since we've both been traveling quite a bit we decided to go for our old standby bran muffins and fruit.

The recipe used to be on the box of Kellogg's Bran Cereal but since it isn't there anymore, I thought I'd share.  Don't let the bran name fool you. Trust me, these things are awesome....and addictive.  I've made these so many times I don't even need the recipe anymore. Enjoy!

Ingredients: 
1 1/4 cups All Purpose Flour
1/2 cup Sugar
1 tablespoon Baking Powder
1/4 teaspoon Salt
2 cups Kellogs All Bran Cereal
1 1/4 cups Skim Milk
1 Egg
1/4 cup Vegetable Oil

Directions:
Mix together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt.  Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine All Bran cereal and milk.  Let stand for about 2 minutes (this softens the cereal).
 

Add egg and oil.  Beat well.

Add flour mixture stirring only until combined.

Portion evenly into 12 muffin cups that have been coated with cooking spray.

Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes or until golden brown.

Serve warm....with butter :-).

Cantaloupe Conundrum

For as long as I can remember I’ve hated cantaloupe.  I hated the smell, the taste, the scratchy outside rind and I especially hated when it tainted the rest of the delicious items in my fruit salad.  That is, until last summer. 

As you probably know, Nick and I ran the Marine Corps Marathon last October.  That meant months of training, including the entire summer which was the hottest on record.  Somewhere in the midst I read cantaloupe was a great post-run refuel snack.  I whined and griped but bought one anyway.  I was getting sick of our normal routine of fruit snacks, bananas and Gatorade.  The best way to describe the first round would be ‘ok’.

Over Labor Day weekend Nick and I finally took a vacation and headed out to the west coast.  We spent time with family in San Francisco and toured the area.  While vacationing we had an 18 mile run scheduled.  We got up before dawn, put on layers (it’s cold in California in the morning!) and headed out.  Fast forward about three hours when we drug ourselves through the front door.  As we stretched my aunt cut up a cantaloupe, brewed me a fantastic cup of tea and started making us banana pancakes from scratch.  I got up to the counter and as soon as I saw the fruit, I dug in.  The pancakes were amazing too. But that’s a given.

To this day I have no idea why but something inside me craved it and I still can’t get enough of that odd orange fruit I once hated.  We now keep, or at least attempt to, a large Tupperware container full of cut up pieces waiting for me to arrive.  I can easily eat half a melon in one sitting and yet still want more.  Nick thinks it’s humorous to watch me sit on our counters devouring a big bowl while we’re cooking dinner.

So until I decide I no longer enjoy this fruit, I’ll keep on eating it.  And until that day comes, a common statement in our house is “I don’t know why I’m eating this stuff.  I used to hate it!  Oh hey, I finished this one off.  Do we have any more?”

Avery's Bucket List

Every now and then you hear a story or see a picture that you just can't get out of your head.  That happened to me about two weeks ago when I heard about little Avery and I just can't stop thinking about her.  My friend Kate wrote a blog post about her friend from Texas whose five month old daughter, Avery, was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy, or SMA.  It's an incurable disease that attacks the muscles and will inevitably be the cause of her death.  And we're not talking years.  We're talking months.

The night I read about Avery I was sitting on our couch waiting for Nick to get home from a late call.  I read Kate's blog post and immediately went to Avery's.  I made it through maybe half of the first post before the water works started.  I cry at pretty much everything and this only made it worse.  I was crying for Avery, for her parents and for the situation.  I sat there and thought "why them?" and "why this perfect little girl?".  Then I thought about our two sweet, perfect nephews and how life just isn't fair.

I've been trying to put myself in her parents' shoes and think about how I would react to the situation.  Avery's parents took the path less traveled and instead of just waiting around for the worst to happen, they're making sure their little girl has the best life she can have.  So, I introduce you to Avery's Bucket List.  The blog is written from Avery's perspective and with a  little humor, explains SMA and what she wants to accomplish.  Some of the items on her Bucket List have already been crossed off but there are still many more to come.

I still feel completely helpless which is something that I hate.  But here is one item that everyone can help with. One of the items on Avery's Bucket List is to raise awareness of SMA and that's where this blog post comes in.  I realize there are maybe three people that read this blog but if you can, share her story and information about SMA.  It's a tragic story but hopefully something good will come out of it.