5 Things I've learned since becoming a mom

1. Yoga is very applicable to motherhood: the breathing especially will help during labor and later on it will help you to keep your head from exploding when you find your toddler using your most expensive face product to draw on the kitchen window.

2. Breastfeeding isn't an effective birth control method - however a screaming infant who doesn't sleep more than 30 minutes in a row is a VERY effective one.

3. Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but I'm pretty sure many mothers wish more husbands gave coupons for "daily showers for the next 3 months guaranteed" as a push present instead.

4. People who criticize me for leaving such a big age gap between my two daughters (6 1/2 years) are usually childless, have only one child and aren't sure about having another one, or have much bigger issues to handle in their parenting.

5. My husband is the real Prince Charming.

Brunch in a crunch

Belated Happy Mother's Day to everyone! (well, just moms really)

The challenge of this past weekend: organizing a made-from-scratch brunch packed with healthy foods while being away most of Saturday.

I LOVE brunches. They are easy, because you have a bunch of food and everyone just picks what they like and eats as much or as little as they want. There is a lot less fussing about: no getting up to serve seconds or get the next course, no risk of serving something your guests don't like after slaving over the stove for hours... in other words, much more relaxed.

The trick is doing your homework. In the week before a brunch I like to browse through some of my cookbooks to find the right recipes. I pick several ones based on season, guests, etc and then I start narrowing them down, because I tend to make way too much food. (Please, I'm Italian, of course I make too much food - not having enough food is an Italian hostess' nightmare!)

For this particular brunch, some of the friends I invited have food allergies so I wanted to make sure I served foods that everyone could eat without worrying about the ingredients. Battling with food allergies is really a pain in the butt. Imagine going out with your family and having to avoid all baked goods, all entrées containing dairy, all creamy salad dressings, all coffee drinks containing dairy, ice cream parlors... it really narrows down your choices and you can never really relax when eating out unless you are in one of those somewhat uncommon restaurants that cook allergen-free (or at least mark their menu items with symbols of allergens). I really like this family, they are wonderful people and I have been looking forward to having them over, so it was very important to me that they could totally relax and eat whatever they felt like during brunch.

So for that purpose, I browsed through the following cookbooks:
- Recipes for Dairy-Free Living
- The Whole Foods Allergy cookbook

and then of course I had my current favorite dessert cookbooks on hand:
- Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World
- Baking with Agave Nectar

I have a list of basics I usually like to serve for brunch, varying some of the recipes - however that list had to be modified to fit the allergen-free bill. I also wanted things I could make either the day before or the morning of the brunch so I could sit and eat with everyone else, so I decided to serve:
- fresh fruit
- coffee, teas, juice, water, white wine
- jams, buttery spread
- spelt muffins, spelt bread (my friend brought home-made cinnamon buns)
- organic cold cuts, smoked salmon
- creamy scrambled eggs with chives
- Waldorf salad
- my vegan quiche (you can find the recipe here)
- for dessert: agave-sweetened vegan cupcakes (I can hear you say yuck all the way here, you miscreants.... but these are so good and rich I promise you'll eat your hat as well as my cupcakes if you ever taste them!)

Next: make a shopping list based on the dishes I wanted to serve and shop for the ingredients (ok, dh shopped).

Little twist: I wasn't going to be home on Saturday for most of the day... On Saturday I went to the SELF Workout In The Park event (the one in New York). I had been looking forward to the event and purchased my ticket back in March so I didn't want to give it up for brunch prep. I looked at the recipes and decided what I should do on Saturday night and what on Sunday night.

I got home on Saturday around 5.30, greeted my family, thanked my lovely husband for holding the fort on his own so I could have some "me time", took a shower and got started. This is the Saturday night list:
- bake cupcakes
- bake muffins
- let cool, make dinner
- ice cupcakes
- cook chicken (for salad)
- steam broccoli and cook potatoed (for quiche)

And this is what was left to do on Sunday:
- prepare salad dressing, slice fruits & veg (for Waldorf Salad)
- sautee veggies, mash potatoes, assemble quiche (you can find the recipe here)
- slice the fruit, assemble fruit platter
- brew coffee, boil water for tea (I like to fill a thermos pitcher for brunches)
- prepare deli meat platter
- make eggs
- prepare the table

Of course I had to also fit in taking a shower and getting ready and also some last-minute cleaning (it is me, afterall).

Anyway, the brunch was lovely, we had fun, we chilled, everybody enjoyed the food and we were also lucky with the weather, so the kids could play outside afterwards. Then we went back in and had coffee and dessert.

Have I mentioned how much I love brunches?

When Stella is Around, no glass is half-full... not for long at least

I never pictured myself having just one child, not after having Sarah. I also never pictured myself with four or five, but I always thought I’d end up with two or three—I think it was just a given that we’d have another child. After all, Sarah was such a little bucket of joy and giggles that it just seemed natural that one day we’d want another one of these wonderful creatures. Sarah was cute, friendly, smiled a lot, slept fairly well, was never super fussy about food, was affectionate and played nicely both alone and with other children—in other words, she was the kind of child who inspired other people to have children of their own.

It took me a few years before I was ready to have a second child though—no matter how lovely and low-maintenance your child is, parenting is still a lot of work, particularly for first time parents; and in my case, I had given up my career to have Sarah, so I was determined to enjoy her first years in full, never missing a moment, a “first,” participating to everything she did. (I know, it sound a little obsessive, so sue me.)

Then when Sarah was six she started school and all of a sudden she seemed so grown up. She started writing, reading, learning math, and had a bunch of friends she wanted to do stuff with. She definitely wasn’t my baby anymore. To my surprise, I didn’t mourn that—I didn’t feel like I had missed anything, so although I felt like the years had flown by, I was ok with it and welcomed the change. As part of it, I accepted a part-time job at a friend’s firm two days a week—Sarah was in school until 4 p.m., then she spent a couple of hours with her grandma until my husband and I got home around 7 p.m. She seemed to really enjoy this time with her grandma and never had a problem with this arrangement, and I found that I thrived by making myself useful outside the house. It was a welcome change to be reminded of my talents that weren’t related to parenting, almost as if I rediscovered my value as a person, because I was useful not just at home, but to the outside worlds, too! (Or at least part of it.) I started enjoying my time at home more, too. And gradually, I found that I was ready to have another child. My husband was on board of course, he had been ready for years!

What happened next influenced not only our plans but also our lives in the months that followed: my wonderful, beloved mother in law found out that her cancer had returned with a vengeance. I stopped working, both because she couldn’t baby-sit regularly while doing her cures and because I wanted to be there for her, to help her, cook for her if needed and just spend time together. After several months she lost her fight with cancer, but not before she taught us one more lesson about courage, love, and strength. It was such a blessing to have her in our lives, that I consider myself lucky for that, even though it makes me sad that she was taken away so early.

We decided to celebrate her life with life, and started trying for a baby. I got pregnant right away and had a wonderful pregnancy, despite having to move to another town in my first trimester. When we found out we were having another girl, Sarah was incredibly happy and excited about having a little sister! And she was even more excited when Stella was born.
From the very beginning, Stella was different from Sarah: she was more vocal, more interested in food (including nursing) and we seemed to share a very special bond. I still don’t know why that is, but Stella is really a Mommy girl.

Fast-forward to now: Stella is almost two years old. She has her own personality, very charming but also stubborn, very affectionate but also sometimes clingy, and though it all, absolutely hilarious. She is a talker, she imitates everything and everyone, giggles, plays jokes and makes it impossible to be mad at her when she does something she shouldn’t. And that is the unfortunate thing: that happens A LOT. Stella is constantly emptying bags, boxes, baskets, and cabinets; if she can get into the pantry she can make a serious mess, what with all the jars of nuts, spices, sea salt, and pasta, and she pulls DVDs and CDs off the shelf and throws them on the floor several times a week (it used to be several times A DAY, so I am busy counting my blessings—as well as my few still-intact CD cases).

This morning, I got sidetracked checking my e-mail. Sarah was on a school trip and all of a sudden I felt like I should check the list we had received from the teacher because I had the feeling I had forgotten to give her something important (for the record, I had not, she had all she needed). I was logging off when I realized that Stella had left the office when I was opening my e-mail and she had been quiet since (just about three minutes). As mothers of toddlers know, this is never a good sign. I got up, and ran to the living room (where she had already emptied my expensive anti-cellulite cream over the sofa earlier this morning)—not there. So without checking the bedrooms, I went into the kitchen, and there she was, sitting on the floor and spreading some kind of white powder all over. The only sound I could make was “oh,” I was surprised that she had gotten hold of—what was that? flour? Confectioner’s sugar? Then I took a few steps forward, and I knew. It wasn’t powder, it was a very thick cream, the Weleda diaper cream , to be exact, spread over one-third of my kitchen floor and on some of the chairs (and of course all over Stella’s clothes and hair).

How, how did she open it? And where did she get it? While I carried Stella off to take a bath and then proceeded to clean up the sticky, fatty, thick cream I was brainstorming, trying to figure out where she got the diaper cream—was there one in the kitchen for some reason? But that’s not the point—the point is that if it’s someplace she can climb on (table, chair, sofa or any piece of furniture near one of the above) or reach by standing on her tippytoes (she has grown so much, my baby!) or by reaching into a cabinet (again—how, how does she open them?) then it’s not safe. Not for her, for whatever she will empty out—because while Sarah was undoubtedly a great climber, Stella is resourceful—well at least that’s a quality that will come in handy in her life.So when I am about to tear my hair out and try to figure out how to take the cellulite cream off the sofa covers or the diaper cream off the chair cushions and from between the floor tiles, I can tell myself that these are learning experiences and that she is getting smarter because of it. If you don’t think that’s true, please don’t tell me.

Do you FLY?

Just because I am an unlikely housewife, doesn't mean I haven't tried to embrace it. I have been trying for years!

Every now and then I get a burt of renewed motivation to become a domestic goddess. Afterall, I tell myself, I'm well organized elsewhere (almost anal-retentive, in fact), a good cook and a decent hostess. Surely I must have it in me to go full circle and become an all-around domestic goddess!?

When this happens, it's like I'm on a mission - something that less-than-vaguely recalls going on a new diet: I find a system that sounds like just the thing for me, get the book, read it cover to cover, get all excited, start, then somewhere between the first week and the second (if I even get that far) I realize that it doesn't really work for me.

Feng shui was the exception: I stuck with that for a couple of months, and my house never looked better - afterall, what better motivation to clean house than to think you are bringing in more money, more love, more friends, better health? I finally felt useful, yay!

Sadly, it only lasted as long as I thought black hat feng shui was the way to go. When I found out that it was a "Westernized, simplistic version of the doctrine that only vaguely resembles the real thing" (as one poo-pooing feng shui practitioner put it) I lost all motivation. I looked into the real thing, but it was way too complicated and it totally turned me off.

I kept hearing about the FLY Lady, so I gave it a try. But it just didn't do it for me. First of all, I lived in Switzerland at the time so the messages arrived at weird times for me. But even without the time zone issue, all the reminders were kind of getting on my nerves already after only a few days. Add to that the fact that she recommends you start your day by "putting on your shoes", (which is a blasphemy in Switzerland, where wearing outside shoes in the house it's frowned upon for hygiene reasons) and I really didn't feel like I could use it.

However many people swear by it, and through the years I tried another couple of times, to no avail. The last time, I decided maybe buying the book was a better way to go, so I got my copy of Sink Reflections, by Marla Cilley, the FLYLady. The book is much more helpful than the e-mails IMO, and I definitely got something out of it. Plus it's always there so you can always give it another go :-)
There were some things I didn't like, i.e. the somewhat abundant religious references, which are an instant turnoff for me generally speaking - but overall the book is helpful so I'm not disappointed.

This is the stuff I got out of it that I think I can use:
- make a list of daily chores: the bare minimum to do every day
- make a list of weekly chores: this list should include things like dusting, vacuuming and changing the bedsheets, but no in-depth cleaning
- divide the house in areas and dedicate 1 week a month to each area; every day spend a little time in that area (in addition to the daily chores)
- make checklists of things that need to be done in the area so you have a guideline and can spend your little time there constructively
- keep all your lists, checklists, areas etc in a binder, somewhere that's easily accessible
- use a timer to help you do things faster: for instance give yourself 15 minutes to unload and re-load the dishwasher
- when you need to do "emergency cleaning" (like when you are expecting visitors and the place is a mess) work for 45 minutes, using your timer and making mini-projects, and rest for 15 minutes every hour; also, change area every so often to avoid "area burnout" and to make sure you spend some time everywhere
- don't hold on to stuff: make sure you regularly get rid of anything that is broken or simply not being used

The daily vs. weekly, zones, checklists, binder and de-cluttering I already had from my "feng shui period", but the rest is new to me and very good IMO. My favourite thing I think is the concept of "hot spot": you know those pesky areas that just seem to attract clutter? Come on, think: every house has them. For us it's the coffee table, the office desk and the pillows under the bay window in the kitchen. Marla recommends that you hit your hot spots regularly to make sure they are clutter-free.

Now, onto the hard part: actually DOING the stuff. Right now I'm still at the "emergency cleaning" stage, and trying to implement dailies.
I tell you, it's really like yo-yo dieting: if you are an all-or-nothing person, the plan either fits you perfectly or it's just extremely hard to keep motivated to follow it.

I was wondering if I might get more out of the book that inspired Marla Cilley, Sidetracked Home Executives, when I read this review:
"If you are a SHE because you're a frozen perfectionist, someone who never cleans because you don't have time to do it RIGHT, this is not the book for you. The card-file is wonderful - except that I'm entirely capable of spending the next 6 months making sure I've got the file system perfect without ever actually doing any of the stuff on it."
Boy, that sure sounds like me. I guess I'll stick with what I have!

ooh, I simply have to share this!

Kristin, the brilliant (mom) mind behind An Ordinary Life, has just posted a fantastic giveaway!

Head over to Kristin's blog right away, because she is giving away a Silverlake Leather Flap bag by The Sak!!

Hip mommy-to-be, fashionista mom, whoever you are I bet you are willing to make space in your closet for this beauty! So go ahead, leave a comment for Kristin - you might just be the lucky one!

Extreme? Who, Me?

Okay, yes. I’ll admit it; I’m extreme. I’m an “all or nothing” girl. And while this may have come in handy before children, when I worked full-time, and the “all or nothing” usually translated to “all—period,” with me getting things done and getting everyone under me to do the same—since I left work and had children, things have taken an interesting turn.

I have never been a domestic goddess, not in the strict sense of the word. I’ve always loved cooking, probably thanks to my wonderful grandma, who used to let me assist her in preparing all those delicious, family-style dishes straight from the heart of Italian cooking, the kind of things you’d find in the menu of a popular Trattoria. And when I was growing up, I always loved to cook, even going as far as spending many of my summer mornings making lunch for my parents and trying new dessert recipes on my friends when they came to pick me up to go out or to do homework together. Is that normal for a teenager? Maybe not, but I also did the normal things (gossip, friends, crushes, homework, etc.) so it’s not like it made me weird, right?

Now, with this interesting introduction, you might think I ended up becoming a brilliant chef. That’s not the case, but I do still enjoy cooking. But then, the “extreme” thing gets in there, too. But I get ahead of myself, let me backtrack a little.

While I always loved cooking, I never really enjoyed cleaning up. Or cleaning, for that matter. Or washing dishes. Or tidying up. Now, if you show me a tidy room, I’d be more than happy to add a few decorating touches, but I’d rather not be involved in the actual “cleaning and tidying” thing, thank you. Does that make me a slob or a creative spirit? Hmmm … ok, let’s not go there.
So now I am a mom. And like any parent knows, you have to adapt once you have kids, because your routine changes and it often takes you longer to do things or you can’t do things as you’d like. So that’s where the “all or nothing” comes in, and not exactly to help: when I am faced with a situation where I cannot do things perfectly, exactly as I’d like, then my interest drops and I prefer not to tackle that task at all. In other words, if I cannot do it all, then I’d rather do nothing.

Silly, you say? Perhaps. Infuriating? Maybe. Frustrating? You bet. Confusing? My husband probably thinks so. Because in our ten years of marriage, he might have gotten used to me being not being a great housewife, and he puts up with it because I’m a good cook and I can do “emergency cleaning” like nobody can. (You know, when you are hosting a dinner party that weekend or expecting visitors and the house is sort of a disaster.)

But what puzzles him is that sometimes I will get something done in the house that is a total surprise and then he doesn’t know what to expect anymore. Like the time he came home to find the living room furniture totally moved around (including the entertainment center with the heavy TV), new paintings hanging on the walls, the ficus reduced to a pathetic skinny shrub (overzealous pruning from someone without a green thumb), the ground floor perfectly sparkling-clean, and all books, magazines, CDs, and DVDs organized (some alphabetized and/or categorized). I know—what? Right? That’s what he said, or probably would have said if he hadn’t been totally speechless once he entered the house. Now that’s when I get an all—and I have a chance to actually get it done the way I pictured it.

Ok, so I’m a weird mix of slob and perfectionist, so sue me. But how does the “all or nothing” affect my love of cooking, now that I’m a mother of two (including a toddler who is a specialist in making a mess and getting into mischief)? Ah. That’s a good question. While I am still an adventurous cook and love to try new recipes and learn new techniques, I’ve learned to play to my strengths. Since peaceful cooking time is a rare occurrence, I have to concentrate on:
- dishes I could make with my eyes closed (so they come out fine even if I’m distracted and otherwise occupied).
- dishes that I can make in the pressure cooker or slow-cooker (my new favorite things).

That’s just so that I don’t fall into the nothing when cooking is involved, even when I don’t have time for the all.

Playing to my strengths also means that I invest my energy towards making something worthwhile. So if I need to bring a dessert somewhere, I either make something I know will turn out well, or I buy something. So if we meet at a potluck and I brought a seven-layer cake, you can safely assume it’s from Whole Foods, not from my oven.


This article can also be found on DivineCaroline

Who is the unlikely housewife

How can someone be an unlikely housewife? What does that mean, anyway? Well, for starters, you can be an unlikely anything. If you have never dreamed of becoming something, in fact maybe the thought horrified you or seemed so unlikely it made you laugh... and then it happened anyway, through unexpected circumstances! Then unlikely seems like a fitting adjective, doesn't it? And if you really don't have the qualities one expects from someone in that position/job/situation; if you are, in fact... let's say, less than proficient (inept is such an ugly word!) at that job... well, unlikely starts sounding just about right, doesn't it?

So there you have it. I'm an unlikely housewife. I never dreamt I would be, in fact it seemed absurd to think about - surely there were plenty of other things for me to do, weren't there? Plus I've always been so messy, I mean seriously, majorly, almost scarily messy... My mom always thought I'd grow out of it. And yet, here I am, 31, married for 10 years, mother of two... still messy.
And should we talk about household chores? I mean, calling them chores is an understatement, isn't it? The washing, the rinsing, the drying... I despise it all, always have. And don't even get me started on ironing!
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a complete failure in the house: I happen to be a very good cook, even better than my mom in fact. But I hate to clean up after cooking. Ideally, I'd cook and someone else would clean up (wouldn't that be great?).

You know, I have tried. Afterall, I have been married for 10 years! Sure, I have made an effort to be good and keep it all clean and tidy, all on my own. Of course, being an all-or-nothing person, my goal each time was to become a home goddess, to be the new Mary Poppins in a way, "absolutely perfect in every way". Yeah, right. Sooner or later it got right back to "ok, I'm messy, why fight it? We should embrace who we are". Zen? Or just pathetic?

So why am I at home? It's simple: I have children, and I am an Italian mom at heart. My youngest is not even 2, and for me to go to work and leave her with someone else is just unthinkable (well, not totally unthinkable, I do think about it sometimes). I would hate for someone else to witness all the "firsts" that happen in the first years of a child's life: the first steps, the first words...
I did work part time for a while, when my oldest was about 6: I worked two days a week, she was at school until 4pm and then spent a couple of hours with her grandma when she got home, until I came home myself, around 7pm. But when I had my second, I decided to stay home again.

So here I am, fighting my instincts to run away from dirty dishes and dusty shelves... they say journalling is a great healing tool. I'm a bit of a geek, so blogging seems more appealing. Plus it's much harder to misplace a desktop computer than a journal!


Note: This blog is in no way meant to be disrespectul or disparaging to the many wonderful housewives out there. I admire you for keeping it all together! But if you happen to come by, please don't laugh and point.