Only in New York

It always amazes me how two days can feel like a lifetime and an instant all at once, but I guess that sums up New York. A lifetime and an instant all at once.

We walked neighborhoods, peered into the zoo, shopped and ate. Oh, the eating!

The Fig & Olive is our new 'must go back' obsession. Everything we ordered melted in our mouths and was perfectly finished with a blissful chocolate pot. We followed dinner with music in Bemelman's Bar. It is a beautiful, dark, moody gem that made a killer martini.

The night was cut short though by the fact that Gracie wakes us early (can you say 5am?), we'd walked miles, with Matt adding even more with his trip to the Met during nap time and Sunday was to be filled with brunch at Tavern on the Green traffic filled trip back home.

In Central Park, we took a carriage around the park which made both my mom and Grace insanely happy. Both spent the entire ridge exclaiming, "Look! Horsie!"

Things faded into tears when the ride was over and it was time for brunch. The majesty that is the Tavern on the Green, dripping with crystal, flowers and little girls dreams, was not enough to persuade Grace into behaving though.

Before entering the gates to the wonderland, she began demonstrating her displeasure to the flower pots lining the entry. In her wake she left a trail of petals. Not even the bride and groom waiting to make their entrance for an early morning courtyard wedding would hold her attention. Although I guess the wedding does make the Flower Girl-esque trail slightly more appropriate. Once we were seated in the Terrace Room, the screaming was tempered by a balloon graciously gifted to us by the staff.

We had a few great, crazy Only in New York moments too...

- We got a ticket in a manufactured police sting for 'blocking the box' literally 30 seconds out of the Lincoln Tunnel. $115.00 before we could even get out of the car.

- Due to the wonder that is Travelzoo Top 20 Deals and overbooking we were upgraded to a 2 bedroom 1200+ square foot apartment instead of the two rooms we had booked.

- At Ground Zero I was blown on by a crazy. Picture Vincent Schiavelli a la Ghost zig zagging down a corridor blowing on tourists shoulders like he was trying to put out a fire. I at least saw him coming and veered away as much as possible. Others before me were not so lucky.

- On a very crowded subway car, an above the knee double amputee was dragging himself up and down the car panhandling and looking up dresses. I gathered my hem as he scooted by.

- We all took turns dancing with Gracie on the Big Piano in FAO Schwatz.

When you add in all these highlights and lowlights, I guess we were able to give my mom and Gracie the New York experience we'd hope for.

Battle to Conquer

Dieting sucks.

Right now, I am the heaviest I have EVER been. I’ve never been thin. I would poke out an eye to be the size 9 that I was in high school right now, but by high school standards I wasn’t even in the realm of skinny.

I don’t think I gained much weight in my Freshman year of college because I had to walk everywhere. When I moved off campus in Junior year though, ouch, that is a different story. I lived 2 minutes away from a Burger King during the magical time period of The Rodeo Cheeseburger. Mmmmm …. The thought of those things still makes me drool.

They also made my ass expand greatly. Dude- they were a dollar. I ate A LOT of them. And then bought new pants.

While I was pregnant with Grace I lost a ton of weight. I was so careful about everything I put in my body. The last 2-3 months I hardly ate carbs because I knew they would make my blood sugar spike and I was already having a hard enough time keeping still with sky high basal rates on my insulin pump.

The day after I went home from the hospital I put on my pre-pregnancy jeans. They fit. They were big. Hanging off of me big.

Then I stopped eating for about 2 weeks. Not on purpose. I would drink orange juice and force down some crackers, but it was always forced. When I finally realized that not eating wasn't good for my milk supply and therefore not good for Gracie, I started to make myself eat meals again.

Chef Boyardee ravioli. That was the only thing I could think of that sounded good, so that’s what Matt bought me. I ate A LOT of it. And started wearing my maternity pants again.

19 months later, I am 45 pounds heavier than the post-birth low.

Something has to give. Something is going to give. I am on a diet.

So once again, dieting sucks.

I am comfortable enough with my insulin pump these days to make changes whenever I need it so I don’t get low. That is no longer my problem. No longer the excuse I have, the one I've ALWAYS used, for not following though on this.

Now, it is all in my head.

Before writing this post, I just spent 15 minutes planning everything I was going to eat for the day. Despite my larger than normal breakfast this morning, I am starving right now. It is the head game of ignoring the stomach grumbles for the next 2.5 hours until lunch.

I've done well so far this week, but I am only 10 days into this and am already dreaming of pizza.

I will be successful though. I will win. I have to win.

I have to.

Highlights and Lowlights

Hope you all had a lovely holiday.

While this weekend was both painfully long and exasperatingly short, due to Grace's new round of congestion, there were some definite highlights.

- Saturday
In an attempt to get Grace to take a nap, we drove to Virginia. We had one destination in mind- Trader Joe's and their Two Buck Chuck. Well, $3.49 on the east coast, but still, how do you complain about that.There is nothing like walking out of a store with a case and a half of wine, no matter what the price.

I could, however; complain about the fact that despite the 3 hours in the car Grace REFUSED to sleep more than 10 minutes, but what's the point of that.

- Sunday
We took Grace to mass again Easter morning.

(Yes, I said again. She and I went Palm Sunday too. Two weeks in a row, we are on a roll...)

Unlike last week, she was fussy from the moment we sat down. And unlike last week, 8am mass was full which gave less wiggle room.

Just as mass was beginning, the cross and processional making its way down the center isle, Grace let out the loudest, rip-roaring belch I have ever heard come out of that small body. The 15 year old boy, stuffed into a suit in front of us, turned around chuckling and said, "That was AWESOME! Way to go kid!"

Matt and I just looked at each other. Holding in our own laughter. I made some comment about the things that 18 month old kids do. Lucking the mass started moments later.

She was also the first screamer of the day.

Last week her outbursts were cute, in her baby babble she continued singing after songs ended. She was mesmerized by the music and singing and entertained by her book and purse full of Cheerios in between.

Yesterday, she was pissed.

She wanted to rip apart collection envelopes, dump her purse of snacks on the floor and pull / shred Kleenex. None of these (obviously) were acceptable. Timing herself well, she let out the first rappel of "No, No, No, NO!" shrieks during the first moment of silence she could grab onto. That's when she and Matt made their first, of several, trips out to the vestibule.

Leave it to Grace to feel the need to compete with the smell of Easter Lilies and organ music bouncing off the rafters.

Leaving the church though, EVERY. SINGLE. passerby comments how beautiful she was. Grace is a sucker for compliments, so she (and her attitude) became brighter with each complement.

Back home, she was thrilled with her Easter basket. A pop-up book, bathtub crayons, bunny ears, and eggs full of Nilla Wafers, yogurt bites and Cheerios.

What could be better? Matt's basket with Starbust jelly beans apparently.

We keep forgetting that her reach is extending. I put both baskets up on the sideboard in the dining room. During the first chance she got, Grace snagged an egg full of beans and popped it open.

I'm sure (I'm hoping) that the dog ate the majority of them, but she still had her mouth packed full when we found her.

Jelly beans are not like most other candies. They are all sugar and food dye.

Ever hold one too long or get it wet? Yeah, the color immediately runs off.

Now imagine 15 multicolored beans in a child's mouth. Way too many to chew, so they all just sit there in an expanding pool of saliva until she realizes they need to be spit out in a rainbow of drool that now covers the floor along with her shirt, hands and chin.

One more year until we do it all again.

Mmmm. Chicken.

Drool is again a circumvent topic of my blog today.

Do you have a dish or restaurant that makes your mouth water when you think of it? I am visiting mine for lunch today.

Mmmmm.....

El Pollo Rico.

This is a whole in the wall Peruvian chicken joint in the metro-DC area that you would never know about (or dare to step foot into) if someone didn't force you for the first time, or you were in fact from the neighborhood it is settled in. It's easy to find though once you locate the strip mall ... just look for the line of people half way down the block.

The only time I've ever heard it talked about during all the food-TV shows that I watch was an episode of Bourdain, where he fully admits to being dragged to the Virgina location.

Oh. My. God. is this place good. At least it used to be, before the restaurant got shut down for tax evasion and hiring illegal immigrants. And then burned down. So hears hoping that the new location is an good, with hopefully better seating as its predecessor. Things don't look very promising right now though.

They sell chicken. That is it. Chicken. If you don't like chicken, your screwed. You can play with the sides a little bit (fries, coleslaw & two sauces) but chicken is what everyone is waiting in line for. 1/4, 1/2 or a whole chicken. Those are your choices. Dozens of them are strung up whole on a big rotating fire spit. When you order, they slide one off and hack it apart with a giant cleaver.

Mmmmm....

The flavor and seasoning on these birds is out of this world. They give you a fork, but the only way to eat it is to pick the chicken apart with your fingers. Which in turn, turns your hands into a wonderful, greasy, Peruvian chicken scented memento of the afternoon for at least 24 hours.

Mmmmm....

What a wonderful way to start the weekend.

**ADDENDUM**

Well, we went, we saw, we gorged.

No, there is no more billows of smoke blasting you in the face as you walk in the door from the open spit as before. Sure the fries aren't quite as crispy as before. But I do think that part of that charm is what caused the grease fire to begin with in the old place.

It will eventually get back there.

The chicken was still amazing. Sure, some of the 'flavor' of the old place was the crowed, run-down, perpetually dirty looking seating, but it is what it is now. Our official taste test is complete and Pollo Rico is 95% of what it used to be.

Which is pretty damn good.

Super Sunday's

Gracie’s tendency towards vomit is a fascinating, disgusting thing.

She pukes a lot. You know this. I talk about it often because, at times, it feels like an all encompassing part of my dynamic with here. It’s a fear that lurks in the back of my head.

Her top three reasons for yacking are: illness, distress/crying and not chewing her food. The last one is the semi-preventable topic that I can’t seem to semi-prevent.

Now *fade into* Superbowl Sunday.

Mmmm … snacks galore. Meatballs, pizza bread, fruit, cheese … it was a baby bonanza fueled by the energy of being in the house of folks born, and somewhat raised, in Pittsburgh.

I guess I just didn’t realize how much Grace was eating. And just how big the pieces were that she was shoving into her mouth.

I kept giving them to her, so I guess I should have, but it was a party. I was talking. Kids were running around. Matt was off in the basement playing Wii, so the supervision consisted of my lax eye and a 10 year old.

About two hours into the party, I chased Grace into the kitchen. She’d reached the wall and could go no further. You could see the flint in her eye, she was not about to be caught. She was not having any diaper changes.

But then, the look changed. I saw the flash. I knew the flash well.

Oh no, Gracie don’t!

Too late. (Not that I really believed my plea would make any difference.)

Blaahh. Blaahh. Blaahh. (She is just like me. I think she is inheriting my OCD. She like things in three’s.)

Now there is all 2 hours worth of said snacks, along with 2 sippy cups of milk, all over their party-prepped kitchen floor and throw rug beneath the sink.

Ahhh…. Michelle? Ummm, I’m so sorry, but my daughter just threw up all over you floor. I think you’ll want to wash this rug.

She gets it. She totally understands. She’s got three kids.

But still. Please, please, PLEASE stop puking Gracie. You have molars! Use them!

VaCa - Day 5

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6

The head cold that hand been brewing all week, plus Wednesdays adventures, got the best of me on Thursday.

Matt, Tim, Jen and Grace went on a historical walking tour of Nassau. Even if I wasn't exhausted from the combo of the night before and the cold, I still wouldn't have wanted to go. Except maybe to go to Conch Fritter and to see this sign in person. On the way back to the airport on Sunday though, the Cabbie pointed it out as a Nassau landmark.

When they got back, I tool Grace for a walk to the local dry good grocery store. We needed to restock on the necessities. You know, milk, Diet Coke and cheese. We still had a steady supply of booze. Guess how much the above cost? $18.00. Crazy huh?

That evening, Matt walked across the Paradise Island bridge to gather some fresh seafood at the fish market for dinner.

"The Market" consisted of a bunch of guys sitting on fishing boats drinking beer and trying to sell off what the caught that day. Plus a few stalls of ladies selling produce too. Nothing was purchased from these folks though because everything was tropical (translate to foreign) and therefore unidentifiable to the man who only knolls potatoes, green beans, carrots, peas and corn and veggies. And the 'p' word will not pass his lips.

Matt did however locate the lobster man after trolling the market for awhile and gathering the courage to ask a non-threatening looking produce lady where he could find some lobsters. Then skill took over.

Matt snagged 3 large Caribbean lobsters, straight out of the ocean, for $35, down from an original quote of $50. In a restaurant we would have been lucky to be charged $50 a piece for these things. Heck, I would have been willing to pay the guy $50 just to dispatch them before sale was final. Luckily, that service was included.

And as these things go, one cannot devour food with a face still attached before naming them prior to consumption.

Tim's was Pinchy (despite having no claws). Mine was Yummy. Matt loudly proclaimed his, via much wine, as Future Poo. Made for wonder dinner conversation.

They were indeed scrumptious though.

VaCa - Day 4

WENDESDAY, NOVEMBER 5

OK, so the next few entries are going to focus on food. The wonderful, decedent, extraordinary food we ate. For 3 nights in a row. Mmmmmm…..

Wednesday night was the one time we all went out together.

We had an Atlantis sanctioned babysitter come and watch Grace while we all went to The Bahamian Club.

Over the phone I was insured that they all had through background checks done, knew CPR (I don’t even know CPR), were great people in general, blah, blah, blah. Whatever, I was nervous, but really wanted to go out. The plan was to have Grace asleep when the woman got there and hopefully keep her that way until we returned.

So the nice lady from parts unknown arrived, 15 minutes early, and we thanked her, signed the paperwork absolving the responsible parties for anything bad that might happen and ran out the door.

Matt had been plotting this dinner for weeks.

His order was already predetermined. He and Tim were going to share the Mixed Grill for Two. (Hee, hee, hee, hee) There were many comments about whether they would intertwine their arms while drinking champagne. All (well most) were ignored under the promise of a kings share of food where isn’t practical to order if only one person wanted it, as it probably would have been enough to feed all four of us, much less two.

So what is the Mixed Grill for Two? Well….

House Specialties - For Two Tableside
Mixed Grill $105
Double lamb chops, tenderloin of beef, homemade sausage, lobster tail, pork escalope, bacon,
Served With Roasted red skinned potatoes, carrots, asparagus, mushrooms, glazed shallots, crispy onions, grilled tomatoes and roasted garlic

I totally just tried Googling for a picture of this, but alas, I couldn’t find one. Part of me is disappointed not to be able to full visualize the gluttony, but the other part is glad that no one is tacky enough to bring a camera into this gorgeous restaurant and start snapping pictures to put up.

Anyway, after the two hour carnivorous feast, we went to the casino and then back to the condo. The sitter said everything was fine. Grace did wake up at one point, but she was able to calm her down and put her back to sleep.

What we didn’t realize is that when Grace woke up, the sitter must have been wanting to earn her pay and changed her diaper. (That couldn’t have gone well because she doesn’t even like it when I change her diaper now-a-days.)

The bad part of all this? The woman put a SWIM DIAPER on her. BACKWARDS.

So when Gracie woke up at midnight (and then 1.5 hours after that to make sure we hadn’t abandoned her again) she was SOAKED with pee. Her outfit, her sheets, everything. Drenched.

And I had drank a big-ole martini pre-dinner and then a ½ bottle of wine with dinner, on top of a head cold starting to ravage my brain.

Ugg.

Note to self: If we EVER do that again, point out the difference in diapers before leaving for the night.