Tag Archives: husband

Two Against One

father toddler daughter cake face

“Caaaaaaake” -Iris

My little family eats pretty well, and I don’t hesitate to take credit for that. We’ve drifted from the chicken McNuggets and greasy ground beef of 2005 to the leafy greens and local fruits of 2014, despite mac-n-cheese and ice cream pit stops along the way.

I feel like I retain decent control over Iris’ diet, and that helps me stay on track when the work is piling up and the hours are flying by. What example would I set by eating SpaghettiOs while pushing black beans and quinoa into her face? Still, I reeeeeeally love SpaghettiOs, and sometimes, we all give in to the siren song of those beautiful refined carbs.

The trouble now is that Iris is becoming more and more aware of how much junk food is out there, and how her chubby cheeks and big eyes are the perfect tools to help obtain it. I never planned to isolate her completely; I realize that wouldn’t work, and only make what she was missing that much more alluring. What I don’t want is for junk food to be part of the routine – an expected treat.

Of course, the world works against me. We give plasma twice a week, and the playroom attendants (whom we adore) keep suckers in one of their drawers. Last week, Iris found out about them, and now asks for one every time we pick her up. The husband and I are still in talks about how to approach this. Let’s just say Iris has a champion in her daddy, who harbors great affection for white sugar and food dye.

So, last night, I took back a little of that control. This lentil rice loaf satisfied a craving we’ve had for a while, and was the perfect excuse to make some roasted root veggies. We consider this comfort food, and it makes for great leftovers. Please don’t mistake me for an animal fat hater… I eat an egg everyday, and live for my husband’s homemade creamy pasta sauces. But sometimes, it’s good to ease up, especially when there’s half a DQ Oreo Blizzard in the freezer.

Now, do we think I can counter my babe’s habit of waking up asking for cake each morning? Didn’t think so.

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My Boyfriend, He Be a Rockstar

This is my husband. He plays keyboard in a band when he’s not handling dead bodies at the airport or rocking out on our upright grand.

Sometimes I like to call him my boyfriend. He was my boyfriend for five years, when we were young and so in love – good times. We’re still young and (even more) inĀ  love, but now and then it’s fun to feel younger and in newer love. You get it.

Anyway, this is him, and I want to take a second to spotlight him as the most important person in my life. He’s truly a rockstar husband.

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Filed under About a Freak