This is what making cookies with my almost-two-year-old daughter looks like these days:
I scoop the flour and hand it to her. She very carefully, and surprisingly accurately, tips it into the bowl and lifts up, dispensing the contents like a pro. A teaspoon of baking soda … tip and pour. A mix with the whisk, and then the salt and the cocoa powder. Precise. Impressive.
Yawwwwnnnn. It’s Monday morning and we are a sleepy little bunch this morning. Our toddler, or Miss Thing as I often call her, decided sleep was optional last night, so after several hours of singing and rocking and looking at stars, we all ended up in bed watching Finding Nemo for the 27th time after which we finally got a little bit of shut eye.
My blueberry bush finally has blueberries! I planted it three years ago, and nothing … nothing … and then this year: bam! Blueberries! So exciting. Except … well, crap. I’m moving. Naturally. And the blueberry bush has to stay.
But. But! Our new house? A dozen, maybe more, mature raspberry plants line one of the fences in the backyard. 20 feet, maybe more, of pure happy raspberry bliss. So, you know what? I’m good with this trade. And there will be plenty of room for blueberry bushes, too. Lots of them.
And then I will make Blueberry Oatmeal Smoothies all summer long. (And raspberry ones too!)
We’re into our hearty breakfasts around here. What’s the saying? Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a queen, and dinner like a pauper? We do pretty well on the first two, though generally we eat dinner like kings again. I guess we like our crowns.
Breakfast, though, that’s a biggie. Especially now that the little one is in the mix – just from pure instinct, breakfast is her largest meal of the day.
I don’t know what’s up with me and carrot cake lately, but I want to make carrot cake everything. Pancakes, waffles, cookies, oatmeal. It’s almost pumpkin-level, and for that, I apologize to my dear significant other, who still can’t fathom the idea of pumpkin in anything after my pumpkin-everything frenzy last fall.
I’m not sure why cinnamon red hots (also known as cinnamon imperials) are so quintessentially “Valentine’s Day.” I guess because they’re bright red. And hot. And candy. Okay, maybe I know exactly why cinnamon red hots are a Valentine’s Day thing. Never mind.
Anyway, I bought into it and decided that I needed to combine oatmeal cookies with red hots for Valentine’s Day this year. It had to happen.
My poor family. Nearly every morning for the past month, I’ve been plaguing them with some form or another of pumpkin oatmeal. I don’t know why, but I guess I’ve had a little bee in my bonnet. I will perfect some pumpkin oatmeal recipes!
I have lofty goals in life.
My guy has yet to mutter “pumpkin oatmeal, again?” and for that, I am grateful. He also knows that such a comment might land a spoonful on his head, but I digress.
Raisins are one of those super-divisive foods that can bring out the passionate opinions in even the most placid of folks. See also: olives, cilantro, avocados, mushrooms.
I actually like all of these foods. Especially raisins. Those silly raisin-haters don’t know what they’re missing. A bowl of oatmeal is incomplete without ‘em, for instance. Okay, I’ll admit I don’t really like them (or much of anything) in my carrot cake, but I find plenty more places for them than not. And Raisinets – chocolate-covered raisins? Yes, please. I would like to find them just about anywhere.
Like in these cookies, for instance.
It’s snowing! And snowing, and snowing, and snowing …
Here in the Pacific Northwest, three back-to-back snowy weather systems have made their way through the area, making everything pretty and pristine and quiet and white.