Sunday, December 23, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
Soupy
Oh marketing people at Campbell's, you are savvy, savvy folks what with your Dora and your Shrek and your starry, starry soups.
Now there are worse things for a 3 year old to nag for in the store than soup. With carrots! And I get that. Earlier this week she went grocery shopping with her dad, and because he's a notoriously easy mark she got him to buy her about 3 different varieties. But then she conned me into the very same thing on Saturday's shopping trip. I didn't know I'd been had until we came home and put them into the pantry and I see all the cans in there that I had not bothered to notice previously.
So we're, you know, totally stocked up on kiddy soup. Whatever.
I tasted it. It isn't horrible. But like so many other kid-type foods, it is really quite bland and of questionable nutrition. And Sami's developed a fairly diverse palate -- some of the stuff she'll eat is surprising to me. Like she would eat me out of half my weekly income in freshly grated parmesan (the 'real' kind; don't even think about that green can in my presence) if I let her. And parmesan (the 'real' kind) is not a mildly flavored cheese. Plus she'll eat blue cheese crumbles. Straight. I know a lot of adults who can't handle those strong flavors. Anyway, I digress.
So yesterday I spent a good deal of the afternoon putting together a homemade vegetable soup. And when I make soup, I make a vat full. I like lots to put in the freezer in individual portions for simple, fast, healthy lunches. Into this particular vat went first my luscious turkey stock carefully preserved from the abundance that was Thanksgiving to serve as my soup base. Then I added: green beans, white and yellow corn, cabbage, lima beans, edamame, carrots, celery, cauliflower, broccoli, tomatoes (frozen, but from our own garden), onion, yellow and green bell peppers. That might be it. Anyway, it turned out divine. Just what I was hungry for. And surprisingly satisfying for a vegetable-only soup. I could just feel the good health in store for us all in the coming weeks.
But today I was going to heat some for Sami and I to have for lunch with our turkey and lettuce wraps, and she Wouldn't Hear of It. Must. Have. Shrek. Soup. I wasn't in the mood for a battle, so instead I tricked her handily. I made the stupid Shrek soup, but I ladled several spoonfuls of delicious tricky vegetables out of my soup into hers. Ha, little one. Ha.
Now there are worse things for a 3 year old to nag for in the store than soup. With carrots! And I get that. Earlier this week she went grocery shopping with her dad, and because he's a notoriously easy mark she got him to buy her about 3 different varieties. But then she conned me into the very same thing on Saturday's shopping trip. I didn't know I'd been had until we came home and put them into the pantry and I see all the cans in there that I had not bothered to notice previously.
So we're, you know, totally stocked up on kiddy soup. Whatever.
I tasted it. It isn't horrible. But like so many other kid-type foods, it is really quite bland and of questionable nutrition. And Sami's developed a fairly diverse palate -- some of the stuff she'll eat is surprising to me. Like she would eat me out of half my weekly income in freshly grated parmesan (the 'real' kind; don't even think about that green can in my presence) if I let her. And parmesan (the 'real' kind) is not a mildly flavored cheese. Plus she'll eat blue cheese crumbles. Straight. I know a lot of adults who can't handle those strong flavors. Anyway, I digress.
So yesterday I spent a good deal of the afternoon putting together a homemade vegetable soup. And when I make soup, I make a vat full. I like lots to put in the freezer in individual portions for simple, fast, healthy lunches. Into this particular vat went first my luscious turkey stock carefully preserved from the abundance that was Thanksgiving to serve as my soup base. Then I added: green beans, white and yellow corn, cabbage, lima beans, edamame, carrots, celery, cauliflower, broccoli, tomatoes (frozen, but from our own garden), onion, yellow and green bell peppers. That might be it. Anyway, it turned out divine. Just what I was hungry for. And surprisingly satisfying for a vegetable-only soup. I could just feel the good health in store for us all in the coming weeks.
But today I was going to heat some for Sami and I to have for lunch with our turkey and lettuce wraps, and she Wouldn't Hear of It. Must. Have. Shrek. Soup. I wasn't in the mood for a battle, so instead I tricked her handily. I made the stupid Shrek soup, but I ladled several spoonfuls of delicious tricky vegetables out of my soup into hers. Ha, little one. Ha.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Dear Sami,
You are now 3 years and 3 months old. And you are probably the funniest person I know. Both on purpose and not on purpose. You are sometimes so endearingly quirky that I can't help myself from indulging your nonsensical demands.
For instance today. I was working at my desk and you were watching Playhouse Disney and doing whatever else it is you do to so nicely amuse yourself. I announced that I was going to go find us a snack. When I got to the pantry, I found an item purchased by your Aunt Bec when she was here recently that didn't get thrown out when she left like I did the 2 cartons of ice cream none of us need. It was some chocolate dipped pretzels. I'm not a huge fan, but you are. So I chose those. I put about 4 in a cup for myself, and because you seem to enjoy the eating of the pretzels straight from the bag, and since we were at the bottom of the bag, I thoughtfully trimmed off the top scrunchy part of the bag to facilitate your handy grabbing of the bottom contents of the chocolicious pretzels.
I returned to the Man Room area triumphantly to present you with your snack. And you freaked out because (gasp) I had cut the bag. Yes. You informed me tearfully that you only loved the big bag. You did not like the cut bag at all. Whatsoever.
My mind told me you were tired and that I should just let you work through this little upset. Or not give you any pretzels to teach you that, um, what? That if you melt down over silly things you get no pretzels I guess? But my heart could see that you were in one of your heartfelt moments. I can read heartfelt emotional crying on your face and tell very easily the difference from the 'I'm being kind of sassy and naughty and seeing what I can get away with here' crying. And this was the former.
So I by God went upstairs and mumbled disbelief to myself as I TAPED THE TOP HALF OF THE BAG BACK ONTO THE PART CONTAINING THE END OF THE PRETZELS. I did.
And you were happy.
For instance today. I was working at my desk and you were watching Playhouse Disney and doing whatever else it is you do to so nicely amuse yourself. I announced that I was going to go find us a snack. When I got to the pantry, I found an item purchased by your Aunt Bec when she was here recently that didn't get thrown out when she left like I did the 2 cartons of ice cream none of us need. It was some chocolate dipped pretzels. I'm not a huge fan, but you are. So I chose those. I put about 4 in a cup for myself, and because you seem to enjoy the eating of the pretzels straight from the bag, and since we were at the bottom of the bag, I thoughtfully trimmed off the top scrunchy part of the bag to facilitate your handy grabbing of the bottom contents of the chocolicious pretzels.
I returned to the Man Room area triumphantly to present you with your snack. And you freaked out because (gasp) I had cut the bag. Yes. You informed me tearfully that you only loved the big bag. You did not like the cut bag at all. Whatsoever.
My mind told me you were tired and that I should just let you work through this little upset. Or not give you any pretzels to teach you that, um, what? That if you melt down over silly things you get no pretzels I guess? But my heart could see that you were in one of your heartfelt moments. I can read heartfelt emotional crying on your face and tell very easily the difference from the 'I'm being kind of sassy and naughty and seeing what I can get away with here' crying. And this was the former.
So I by God went upstairs and mumbled disbelief to myself as I TAPED THE TOP HALF OF THE BAG BACK ONTO THE PART CONTAINING THE END OF THE PRETZELS. I did.
And you were happy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)