En Papillote: More Than a Bun in The Oven

Patrick, our friend E., and I took a cooking class this week. We learned to cook “en papillote.” It is a surprisingly fast and easy classic French cooking technique that mixes arts & crafts, origami, and crazy delicious results. As Ina would say, “What could be better than that?” Cooking en papillote with your faves, that’s what!

In class we cooked (1) Mediterranean shrimp (raw), (2) frozen dumplings (Pork gyoza dumplings from Trader Joe’s), and (3) classic dill salmon.

Step One-A: Cut your parchment paper into a heart.

Love!

Step One-B: Practice folding without food. Fold paper heart in half (over food) — start at the cleavage of the heart and fold along the edges and twist the tail of the heart (not a metaphor).

Look, ma, I did it!

Step Two: Put your heart to the side (not a metaphor) and chop and mix ingredients!

Can even do frozen dumps and chopped veggies! We also added just a bit of soy sauce, sesame oil, and sesame seeds to the mixture.

Step Three: Wrap it up! Place mixed food along one side of heart. And fold it down.

Patrick makes a packet en papillote!

Step Four: Put it in the oven at 425 degrees! (General rule: For protein over an inch thick, 10 minutes will do it. For protein under an inch thick, 8 minutes will get the job done. For real! Frozen dumplings take a little longer to steam — 10-11 minutes).

They should puff up in the oven. But if they don’t, the food inside still tastes just as good. That puffy one is our friend’s. Ooh la la!

Step Five: Cut open top with scissors. Admire the magic and the fragrance! Now that’s fast food!

Snip! Snip!

Mediterranean shrimp!

Dumplings and veggies!

Salmon with dill and shallots (and a 1/2 tbsp of butter and splash of white wine)

Step Six: Eat your heart out! Bon appetite!

Giselle

There is this super-amazing pregnant woman named Giselle. She looks like a Giselle — athletic, gorgeous, French, and happy. Since she is French, her baby will be sleeping through the night by 3 months, eating quietly and politely in restaurants, and eating off the normal menu. Naturally, it follows that my future child will be up all night flinging poo and screaming and refusing to eat anything other than french fries. Giselle and I have the same due date, so I can’t help but compare myself to her. But no matter what I do, I cannot live up to her…

During first trimester, when 24/7 “morning” sickness got so bad that my doc put me on meds, she bragged about how lucky she was to be doing her whole pregnancy med-free. I waited for her turn to come, but it never did. When first trimester then turned my forehead into a bumpy, red, acne-ridden mess, her skin was still flawless. I, of course, waited for her perfect face to break out too… But no. How did she do that?

When second trimester came and I finally got back into exercise 5-6 days a week, I was thrilled! I felt fit again, more in charge of my body, and my bump was growing beautifully. But leave it to Giselle to ruin that too. I could hear her thinking, “Oh you walk 2-3 miles and follow a prenatal DVD on weekdays. Um, that’s (lame) nice… By the way, did I tell you I’m TRAINING FOR A MARATHON? Doc says I’m fit enough. Ta ta!” Who does that? I… hate… her… 

26 weeks and 3 days

Did I mention that Giselle is also a writer? She “dabbles,” in her words, but she is as annoyingly impressive in this, as with everything else. During this pregnancy she has never been more motivated and creative. Her unborn child is her muse and constant source of inspiration. As we are approaching third trimester (and my mental capacity and energy levels are declining), Giselle tells me she manages to sit down every day to write. Yes, me too, if “writing every day” means watching Real Housewives of Wherever followed by a fatigue-induced nap. 

To sum up Giselle: Amazing, annoying, the wonder woman of pregnancy, and a completely made-up person I’ve been comparing myself to throughout this pregnancy. (I’m not totally crazy, I only gave her a name, super-amazing triumphs, and a nationality for the purpose of this blog post.) Even if Giselle is made up, I am sure there is someone out there in real life being just as fabulous and making me look like the lamest, laziest, most limited preggo ever.

But In truth, I feel like the happiest, luckiest, most Zen preggo out there. Every once in awhile, when this belly surprises me with a limitation or this pregnancy slows me down, I have a moment of doubt – Can other pregnant women out there do this? Are they sleeping through the night in comfort? Getting their shoes on faster? Walking 2 miles without intense back pain? But instead of letting these pointless comparisons get to me, I listen to my body, give the bump a little rub, put my feet up, and marvel at all the amazing going on inside. Running and writing can wait, we’re growing a baby!

Oh Yeah, I Forgot To Tell You…

I know this sounds like the world’s lamest excuse, but since getting knocked up I have lost my memory, creativity, and attention-span. So, I have not been writing, blogging, or reading anything with chapters…or paragraphs…or really long sentences.

Luckily for me, baby books are written for people with the attention-span the size of a 140 character Twitter update–short sections and no long paragraphs to wade through–so I can still feed my obsession for baby info without just scrolling through my Twitter feed. Wait, what was the point I was trying to make?

Anyway, that is why I haven’t been: blogging, working on my book rewrites, remembering to add ketchup and flour to the grocery list, or finishing my thought… There was supposed to be more to this paragraph. Gah!

So it dawns on me that I forgot to tell you all that WE’RE HAVING A GIRL!! Also, I am smuggling a globe in my shirt and I can see the inside of my belly button for the first time.

Mama’s got a big ol’ bump, oh yeah!

Other milestones we’ve experienced: I can feel little Joey Kangaroo kicking and wiggling first thing in the morning, right before bed, and when I eat spicy food or sugar. When Patrick puts his hand on my belly, he can now feel our Kung-Fu Panda kick. And I have had one of those Alien moments–whilst reading a baby book (or Twitter, who can remember) I caught my belly moving “on its own” from the corner of my eye. I screamed.

Kung Fu Panda is growing!

We’ve also experienced something I did not expect, but I guess should have… Crazy generosity from our friends and family. Baby shower season isn’t even here yet and we already have a stocked baby bookshelf (with more board books on the way)!!

The most important area in baby’s room

And the clothes! Whew, remember to tell a few family and friends you are expecting a girl and you get a clothing explosion!!

Cute girl clothes!

20/20

I have a sizeable tummy and am at the halfway point! 20 weeks down and only 20 weeks to go! That is if you follow the 40 week calendar, which I do. In doing so, I am ignoring the fact that my biological mom carried me for 41 weeks…

So what have we done since our last blog post? Oh many things some days, and not much others. Our activities have included:

1. 

   I'm smiling because I'm wearing maternity jeans

   Sleeping

   

   Patrick imagines what it would feel like to be with child

2. Watching TV (to get our fill before we cancel cable)
3. Eating
4. Reorganizing living room to accommodate two workspaces since baby is kicking us out of the office
5. Getting addresses together for baby showers
6. Daydreaming about baby whilst cuddling
7. Shopping for maternity clothes since I officially can’t zip up my regular pants
8. Eating
9. Sleeping
10. Cleaning
11. Interviewing pediatricians
12. Shopping for cloth diapers
13. Practicing putting cloth diapers on a baby doll in a camouflage onesie
14. Not writing
15. Setting up a bookshelf in the baby room. Most important piece in the room, we think.
16. Writing
17. Reading about pregnancy, labor, and babies
18. Cancelling gym memberships
19. Consolidating cell phone plans
20. Adding items to our registry
21. Deleting items from our registry
22. Eating
23. Sleeping

In other words, life has been pretty lovely as we gear up for this little dragon, whom we now call “Joey” (as in a baby kangaroo), to join us!

Babies Are Hoarders

I started a baby registry early, because I wanted to SEE how much stuff we will need. I have met a couple of babies and have noted that babies come with a lot of baggage. Literally. But this was always a pretty vague concept. So I decided to lay this stuff out virtually to give myself enough time to wrap my mind around it. Here is what I’ve learned since I’ve started a baby registry:

1. Babies are divas. A baby-sized suitcase will not cut it on a trip of any length.

2. An umbrella stroller is not a stroller with an umbrella attached to the handle.

3. Amazon.com is cheaper than Target and Babies R Us. Also, baby expenses are not so much that I will consider shopping at WalMart.

4. All cribs look like baby jails. Because they are.

5. Baby books make me cry happy tears. Even just books about making baby food.

Lulu watches over the first of the baby gear

6. If you write “baby” and draw a smiley face on a mini food processor you can sell it for a lot of money.

7. Kids sit in car seats for a loooong time.

8. I will buy something solely because it is called “My Brest Friend.”

9. I am less excited about buying baby clothes for my own baby, knowing that they quickly outgrow clothes. We may become nudists until the kid stops growing.

10. For reals, babies require an incredible amount of stuff. Yes, especially that wooden rocking moose.

Unicorns, Dragons, and Babies: First-Time Parents Q&A

Today we are guest blogging at our blog-pal and super-mom’s site: Sippy Cup Chronicles. This March, Jenny at Sippy Cup Chronicles is hosting a virtual Baby Shower Event with guest bloggers and giveaways! Stop by to read our post today and check out the Boppy Pillow giveaway going on right now!

Pregnancy has been a team effort in a way I never imagined. So for our guest post we wanted to share our pregnancy experiences in the Q & A format. We might both be expecting a dragon baby (our term of endearment), but it doesn’t mean we are experiencing things in the exact same way… Let the questioning and answering begin!

So, what does maternal bloom feel like?

To see our Qs and our As click here

Pretty in Pink

I hadn’t even realized we’d reached the peeing on a stick phase of the month. As Gilly mentioned in her recent post, she just wanted to make sure it’d be safe to have mimosas on Christmas morning. Neither one of us really expected the test to come back positive. So imagine my surprise when Gilly suddenly announced, late in the evening as we were getting ready for bed, “I think we’re pregnant.”

Yup! I've contracted new dad face.

It took time to realize what I was feeling was sheer joy and excitement, because my initial reaction was one of pure shock. Could it be? How could it be? Could it really be? It couldn’t possibly be. But there it was. The little pink lines. They couldn’t lie. Could they lie? Well, actually, I guess they do lie. But then when Gilly took the test again…and again…and again, for four days in a row – well, the little pink lines don’t lie that much.

We were going to be parents. We couldn’t contain our joy. But while we didn’t have to contain our joy, we couldn’t yet share our joy. The urge to tell everyone the second you realize you’re pregnant – especially after months now of being, as Angie Z. so eloquently put it, “two endangered snow monkeys with a thousand buggy-eyed freaks awaiting the appearance of your first offspring born in captivity” – is hard to suppress. I mean, this is BIG news. Who can keep something like that a secret for a day, let alone for weeks?

And that, dear readers, is when the first trimester intervened and knocked us both senseless. I mean, we’ve read What to Expect When You’re Expecting but nothing – not a midnight screening of The Exorcist, not a public restroom reading of The Hot Zone, not even eating one last wafer thin mint in a re-enactment of Monty Python’s Meaning of Life – could have prepared us for…Gilly’s first trimester.

Gilly sums up her first trimester experience in her last post, so I won’t regurgitate the horrors she endured. Let me just say this. There. Is. No. Celery. In. Our. House.

But there are two glowing people. After all, maternal bloom isn’t just for ladies…