You know what the raddest thing is about my new meal planning thingy is? That I get to eat it after I'm done! Seriously, having new recipes to devour each night is just about the most awesome prize ever! Thus far I've done the Chicken Diablo (look at my last post for the link to that recipe), Greek Salad (sort of a cheat, I had made it twice before, but it was for a nephew's birthday dinner), BBQ Bean & Rib Soup (sort of a fail as I forgot to put in the...um...bbq sauce), Spaghetti Bolognese (#16), and Sausage, Bean, & Pasta Stew. We had a couple cheat nights when Hubs smoked a butt-load of pork ribs (mmm, love that smoker, I think we've discussed this before, yes?) and when we ended up with too much leftovers to make a new recipe the next night. So I never got to the Spicy Turkey & Green Bean Stir Fry last week which I am super excited to try.
The BBQ Bean & Rib Soup was good...except...the next day it had the consistency of there being melted cheese in it...and I'm dairy free, so I knew there wasn't any of THAT...it had to be the connective tissues between the rib bones and the meat making the sauce more gelatenous. And that made it a tad less palatable for me. And the bbq sauce would REALLY have helped the flavor. Which is probably why it was listed as, um, an ingredient.
I gotta say though, I'm eatin' up the Sausage, Bean, & Pasta Stew right now and ZOMG it is radtasticly fabuwonderful! It was a bit weird putting the balsamic vinegar in at the end, but it gave it a perfect zing and really balanced the pasta, beans, and broth. Also, I used hot sausage instead of mild...and of course I added Sriracha (to just mine)... Mmm. Wow, it is amazing, you should totes make it, like tomorrow.
I am, however, thankful I didn't have to do any cooking yesterday, as I was at the After Hours urgent care for my tubby 18 month old getting stitches in his foot...
Yeah. So I was making some tea at my mom's house and I left the mug too close to the edge of the counter. I even thought for a moment that it might be too close but then went, "nah, he can't reach that far." I was standing a few feet from him when he pulled the cup down onto himself, then dropped it and it shattered all over the floor. He immediately started screaming and I was sure he was burned, I grabbed him and got him into the sink to get cold water on him as quickly as possible. It didn't even occur to me to check his feet... Yup. He sliced his right foot from the middle of the sole to almost the ankle bone on the inside. He was bleeding all down my side and I didn't even notice.
When I called the nurse hotline to ask if it was an emergency that should go to the ER (it had stopped bleeding and he had stopped crying), she told me that due to his age, they'd probably put him under at the ER and they'd use a Papoose Board at the Doctor's office... I'd heard of those Papoose Board's before; it was terrifying comparing and contrasting which I thought would be the lesser evil, but in the end I felt that a horrible emotional experience was better than the possibility of complications from anesthesia... But it was a terrible, terrible time. D was just shy of too big for the Board and the nurses, I think in an effort to not make him uncomfortable - strangely - didn't do it up tight enough, so I had to undo them and redo them tighter. I think they thought I was maybe cold and unfeeling, since I really tightened the crap out of the straps, but I didn't understand why they were leaving it so loose; what was the point of it if it didn't actually keep him secured??? And as it was, he still got a hand/arm out and I had to physically restrain him for at least an hour while he screamed and screamed and screamed. I have never done anything that hard before. And knowing it was my fault made it so much harder to see him so angry, frustrated, hurt.
I'm trying not to wallow in self-pity or self-incrimination, but objectively, I left the mug too close to the edge of the counter. I did. It was MY mistake that led to the eight stitches, the Papoose Board indignity, and the weeks of healing. Oh, how I wish I could promise to never fuck up so bad again, ever, ever, ever. But I know I can't. I'm GONNA fuck it up. And probably big. Again. GAH! Self-forgiveness really is the hardest kind. My baby is hurt and it's my fault. Acceptance. Moving on now.
Anyhow, I'm so glad there were leftover ribs. Sometimes food is the greatest comfort, the greatest blessing. A good meal made with love heals the small, broken parts inside us we can't medicate or patch or stitch up. Hubs was my rock through the ordeal yesterday and his food healed my heart in the evening when I was too exhausted to prepare anything with love.
I feel a little on the precipice. I'd like to cry like a maniac and yes, wallow in self-pity. I'd like to be held like a baby and wail it out. But instead I'll hold MY baby like a baby and kiss his soft little head, put his head on my chest and let him listen to my steady, calm heart-beat, and be oh so thankful that it wasn't much, much worse. Oh, how much worse it could have been.
So I'll finish my delicious stew, made with love, by me, for my little family, and count my many blessings. God keep you all tonight, hold your sweet littles close. This momma's feeling a little emotional and well-fed. :)
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