From Ukraine with Love: Borsch.

As promised as it seems now a long time ago at the era I was babysitting my two dear children who lately seem to graduate to the advance level of blood sucking and virtuoso nerves playing. Certificates inclosed.

Back to the borsch. I spell it as I pronounce it. The recipe has been in my family for generations. My mother being an even more ardent fan of quick and easy meals  ( she thinks I cook complicated but as the chefs on TV, which cannot be a bigger compliment from her, since things are rarely done right, right?) passed me the recipe when I moved in with my now husband and became the boss in my own kitchen. Or am I?

According to my mother's eye balling everything, no, we are not related to Rachel Ray, I came up with the amounts for her very quick and easy recipe. And the ingredients are:

 - 1 onion

 - 1 carrot

 - 1 medium/big beet

 - 2 medium potatoes

 - 1/2 cabbage

 - 1 small can of tomato paste

 - salt, pepper, vegetta to taste, pinch of sugar

 - bouquet of greens: dill/parsley

The only uneasy part of the recipe is cutting all those vegetables, so if you have a shredder or a food processor, which I still don't own (Yeah, I know what the Valentine's are for, but I still prefer a pair of vintage earrings or a bracelet, wink, wink, you know who you are,.....the husband), please get those ready. Also, giving homage to Sandra Lee, you can buy pre-shreded cabbage, onion and carrots, never saw pre-shreded beet, and keep it sami-home made.

Place onion, carrot and potatoes ( all clean and diced, carrot is shreded) in the big pot. To Motherofmany, I don't know what a big pot is for the dinner of 9, but I'm sure you'll figure it out. Play with the amounts of ingredients then. You're an experienced cook! So, fill the pot with water, bring to boil. After boiling, let simmer for 15 minutes. Meantime, cut the cabbage, add it to the pot, also add tomato paste, your dill/pasley ekibana, salt, pepper and vegetta ( I think it's your variation of a soup cube, but it is sold in major grocery stores) to taste. Add a pinch of sugar to bring out the beet flavor. But please don't make it sweet, just a PINCH! It's still a savory dish ( as you'd add a pinch of salt to baking). Simmer for another 10 minutes. Taste, if the potatoes are done, then everything is done.

Well, I wouldn't be myself if I didn't adjust the recipe to my Iron Chef's palette. So....

For my adjustments you'll need to add:

- celery

-  3-4 table spoons of olive oil

-  1 clove of garlic

1. I suggest that you sautee carrots, beets & onions in 2-3 table spoons of olive oil, for about 4-5 minutes before you add potatoes & fill the pot with water. Makes the flavor richer.

2. I suggest that you cut the cabbage as small as you can, so that when you eat it, it won't feel like eating dripping spagetti.

3. I also strongly suggest that you cut the cabbage & put it in the pot BEFORE it boils: place all the vegetables, fill the pot, then start cutting the cabbage & pui it it right after you're done with it, that way it'll come out soft, you don't want crunchy in the borch. Unless that's how you prefer it.

4. I put whole onion without cutting since my so Russian or Ukranian for this purpose  husband would not touch an onion ( weird, must do a DNA test...), so, that allows you to take out the onion with the greens ( dill and parsley) after the borch is done.

5. I add cerely to my greens ekibana.

6. I add THINLY cut 1 clove of garlic ( not squished, cut thin) to the borch about 5 minutes before it's ready. You'll thank me later. 

There are other variatons of the borsch. Since I'm on the Ukrainian lecture on borsch, I'll tell you that the best is my aunt's version. My husband still checks the pot every time I cook the borsch, to check if the day has come, but...if you don't go to the gym, you don't get the fat borch with the meat. So, my aunt sautees every vegetable separately and then adds beef or short ribs to the pot, which makes it a small heart attack on the plate, but at least you die oh so happy! Unless you're a vegetarian, then you just die.

My grandfather used to eat it boling hot with the garlic bread. No, in Ukraine of 1980 there was no garlic bread on the menu or as a term at all, but my grandfather improvised what seemed to me then ingenious: he would rub a clove of garlic on the bread crust and that would be an indispensable part of serving the borsch.

Oh, right, the serving: you serve it traditionally with a dollop of sour cream. If you are oblivious of the Ukranian traditions you can also serve it with plain yogurt or as I have been serving myself for years, with mayonaise ( secretly, I'm not Ukranian).

Now, tie your rushnichok behind your back, put on those red booties and tune your volinka for a romantic Ukranian accompaniment! Serve with a warm smile! Na zdorov'e!

I Earned the PNN Mug!

I was just notified by Leigh that I earned the PNN mug! Honestly, I thought the contribution to receive a mug would extend to serious articles, deep arguments instead of my cynical meddling into other people's conversations. Actually, even more honestly, I never thought about a mug, but remembered a post of someone here who posted a picture of it. I love mugs, and was deeply touched to be awarded with such a creation for my dark grey points of view ( I try to steer off black).

This message cheered me up. The last two days have been hard on me. It started with my toddler being sent home from daycare for being cranky. No, no fever. Cranky. Seriously?! First of all: have you just met?! Second of all: can I send him back there for getting me even crankier? As if it's not enough to stay at home with one baby. I understand that we cannot be too careful during the flu season, but...We were scheduled for a flu shot later that day, after the doctor made sure that the toddler was healthy enough to receive the shot, the latter came down with the sore throat late at night, followed by throwing up due to the agonizing cough. At least we managed to see Dancing with the Stars, the Results Show.

So, it's not easy to be at home with 2 kids. No, it's not breaking news, I'm aware. The long planned shower is yet again postponed. Olay toner for oily to normal skin can replace a shower, did you know that? ( does that count as breaking news?) Errands. What errands?! I actually did ironed the laundry...I know, I'm the last of the Mohicans. By the way, did they have irons? Did they wear enough clothes to iron?

Cranky was changed fast to the usual non listening in full energy mode. There is a constant noise of banging, dangling, screaming ( of joy), knocking, hammering. No, there is no current construction in the house. Occasional high pitch scream, oh, right, that would be me...I caught myself hoping that the loved to death would get better fast just so that he will finally go to the daycare & relieve my stress.

At the dinner time, I insists he eats himself, with the premonition of the pre-K threatening my brittle nervous system next year. After the high pitched ( or scream, depending upon who describes it) "take the spoon into the mouth!", the adorable looks at me with the Cat from Shrek eyes and without lifting the spoon says :" Mama, I love you trillion!" Isn't that ice melting?!

We're off to do a puzzle. Baby is crawling, grabbing the pieces, prevents us to complete the picture of raving angry dinosaurs. There are 3 more hours to go before bed time. The stress gets the worse of me, but kissing them good night I feel apologetic for all the negativity I poured out. I recently asked my husband: do you think he feels loved? Because he is. We are just tired. Is that a valid excuse?

So, there is a mug in mail. I love mugs. I love mail. I'll be able to sip my tea from it slowly after the day is over, the kids are in bed, well and healthy, and our favorite TV show is on.

Oh, a nice side table with a vase on it fell. The table is broken. GREAT...Have to go...run...

For the fans of quick and easy meals.

I'm an ardent fan of quick and easy meals. In fact, nothing I have ever cooked for my family or for a fancy holiday dinner to impress my guests was never a 25 ingredients, 2 days prep dishes. My creative challenge is always to cook a dish that is minimum ingredients and time that will result in a jaw dropping, oh, wait, it's unattractive when food falls out of your mouth, then impressive dish with gourmet appeal that alludes at the long hours and much sweat put into it. Oh, wait again...No, no sweat put into it...FDA wouldn't approve...Labour! yes, labour!

Adventerous as I am ( I did watch a few episodes of True Blood), I bought a pack of beef cubes for a stew in Trader Joes. My beef never succeeded, so I stopped trying a few years ago. However, there is a point in your life when you feel like you're growing wings after the years of cooking chicken at home. I looked up a recipe on Foodnetwork.com:

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchens/beef-stew-recipe2/index.html

Out of all the beef stew recipes that looked like the simplest. Level EASY, the only thing I did not have in my pantry was thyme, so I substituted it with oregano. ( Told you, I was adventurous!) It warns about 20 minutes of prep time and 2 hours 45 minutes of cooking. Well, well, well...

Achievements:

 - for the 1st time in my life the beef was soft and delicous, not chewy and hard.

 - potatoes came out soft, flavorful, in fact I myself ate them after years of carbs and starch deprivation, especially in the form of potatoes, with the noble purpose of preserving my petite figure. Well, no as much as preserve, as actually get to this petite figure.

 - Unexpected turn of events: I had crimini mushrooms that I added instead of canned tomatoes. Good idea. ( I'm going to update my adventurous portfolio)

Struggles:

 - Sauteeing beef is long, you do this in batches....20 min

 - Sauteeing onion, garlic, see the recipe - 10 min

 - Cook the meat until tender - 1 hr 30 min

 - Cut vegetables, add and cook all together - 1 hr

 Total 3 hours...

Results:

 - Plating into rustic clay bowls - 20 sec

 - Preparing tea - 10 min

 - Having warm dinner in front of Grey's Anatomy - 10 min ( for me, 4 min for my husband, he chews fast. How many times did I tell him?! Nobody runs after you! Grey's Anatomy is 1 hour long!)

- The look of impression and a healthy appetite on my husband's face - rewarding.

 - Clean up time - priceless.

 - Leftovers - 1 1/3 servings.

Was the endeavor worthwhile?

How to be a great wife & mother for an evening.

I decided to share the happiness of a content mother and wife due to a delicious and nutritious dinner I served last night to the utmost delight of my family. I fried Russian blinchiki. Not BLINI that in shape & thickness or lightness will remind you of a French crepe, but small Russian blinchiki, pancakes about 3" in diameter. There is not much enlightment in whiping a pancake, even more so, every respectable food store owns a few brands of a pancake mix. However, that turned easy and the only difference between the American pancake & the Russian blinchik is the size ( which matters here) and 1 ingredient: we use yogurt instead of milk. So, I thought I'd add to the diversity of your daily culinary servings.

So, the traditional mix would be:

 - 1 cup of yogurt

 - 1 egg

 - 2 flat teaspoons of baking powder

 - pinch of salt

 - 1/2 of sugar ( taste the mix to make it sweet to your taste)

 - 8 table spoons of flour

Mixture should be as dense as a sour cream, so, add more flour if it's too liquid. Vegetable oil on your skillet needs to be very hot for frying. NO GRIDDLE! It's Russian! Will make 4-6 servings, depending on the number of family members and their hunger level.

Now, to nutritious/delicious modifications! Assume the Iron Chef position! Open your pantry and the fridge! So...I'm a good wife & mother, but not so good, so you will eat healthier, if it's even possible in combination with blinchik/pancake in the same sentence.

 - Use brown/raw sugar instead of white sugar.

 - Use whole grain flour instead of bleached. Yes, my husband used to detect the difference and complained...so where did it get him? Nowhere! He licked his fingers yesterday and it seems that he already forgot how bleached flour tastes.

 - Blueberries are too....passe...excuse moi...So, see what else you have in your fruit selection: mashed banana, blended/grated apple or pear or peach would work wonders and provide your kids with what's left from those vitamins after frying!

 - Use fruit yogurt: I tried tropical, strawberry, peach! Check with your daily selection of dairy in your fridge.

Note : if you are using a fruit yogurt with fresh fruit mixed in the mixture, add little sugar as the last ingredient and taste the mixture to check that it is to your sweet or not so sweet tooth.

 - They say you should not fry or bake in olive oil, so I fry and never bake in extra virgin olive oil. I don't have any other kind in my pantry. It's good for you! Rachel says so.

 - Not to forget the secret ingredient: lemon zest! Totally lifts it up!

Serve with fruit jam, fresh fruit, fruit syrup, chocolate syrup, maple syrup or to make it authentically Russian - serve it with sour cream. Caviar is a good idea, although I'm not too sure if it goes well with the banana or any other fruit. However, if you attempt to try decadence, NEVER buy this black salmon caviar in the major supermarket or a grocery isle of IKEA. Real good black caviar runs for about $80.00 per pound, so this is  how you know... Red caviar is more affordable, at about $35.00 per pound, and it should not be bright red! If you found your source of good caviar, the money you spent on caviar will be saved on sugar, which is unneccessary for a savory blinchik.

If for a reason of temporary insanity your family is not screaming in delight, while mumbling promises of good behaviour and many gifts to come and not on Mother's Day only, take the left corner of your apron to wipe a false tear from the corner of your right eye. Tell them you went to an unheard of length of following an incoherent recipe of some Russian chick on the blog and you were really really trying...Leave the room quietly. Wait 5 minutes.

If that doesn't help in physical appreciation of your culinary labor, return to the room, manically whisper " Beat it!", grab what's left on the plate, land on the sofa, switch on "Dancing with the Stars", "House", "Grey's Anatomy", "Office"or whatever is on depending on the day of the week and enjoy your rest of the night! Go to sleep content! You are the greatest mother and wife! To try as hard as to follow a pancake recipe of a blabbering Russian devochka from the blog place?! Seriously?!

Chocolate Pasta: Spoiler Alert!

About 5 hours before the Atonement Day was about to end we, or more precisely, I was planning on how to festively break the fast. My husband wouldn't hear about food, 26 hour fast is daunting, we also have 2 small children to feed, besides I normally spend my day on the backround of the Food Network TV. The idea of more thoughts on food was unbearable to him.

Ultimately, I had to make a choice, which danced between a pasta with smoked oisters and crab meat in the red sause ( you use a sause from a can and add smoked oisters and crab meat from your pantry. Garnish with fresh chopped parsley/cilantro. Sshhh!, I know shell fish is not very kosher oriented, but I asked for my forgiveness during the Atonement Day and I was on my 20th hour of fast) and that chocolate pasta that I was raving about in my previous post here. The plan for the chocolate pasta was initially festive to be served in the company of a couple of friends, but as the circumstances occured, indeed, everything turns out for the best, meaning that I decided to serve this decadence and savour it in the privacy of our own fast breaking, which ultimately saved us a social embarrassment if it was to be served to the guests.

The pasta looks very appetising in its package, dark brown, little lacy swirles. When cooked it loses its crisp look. I made it al dente, strictly following the directions. To accompany that I made a raspberry syrop ( fresh raspberries simmered with a bit of red wine & brown sugar), folded it into a mixture of plain and raspberry yogurts with lemon zest and topped the whole creation with toasted walnuts and crambled Oreo cookie ( held the white part). Sounds Iron Chef delicious, right?

Well,  what do you know...After the raspberry sauce hit the pasta it turned its chocolate look into a dirty one. The pasta contains cocoa powder, but no sugar, so if you have a sweet tooth ( and I have  sweet teeth, all 30 of them, well, 2 wisdom teeth were pulled years ago), sugar is missing. No matter how sweet the raspberry creation was, the pasta needed something....chocolate...sweet chocolate. So, I tried to fix it with my 4 year old's chocolate syrop, he was asleep, he wouldn't know. It helped the matter a little. My husband's constructive critisism gradually digressed from: "it's OK" at the 1st bite, proceeded to "it's not that great" and finally fell flat at: "I'd grab something else, even though I'm full, but I have such a bad taste in my mouth".

Both of us nodded in agreement of saving our culinary respect by not serving this festive creation to anyone, especially after such a successfull Rosh Hashana dinner ( Jewish new year), where I vowed the guests with Giada's roasted bell pepper soup, Ina's Panzanella salad and the Epicurious easy chocolate mousse, that got me numerous compliments and 3 marriage proposals (hold your celebrations: no rings and all made in my husband's presense, therefore, we both kindly declined).

Now, after much disappointment at our much anticipated culinary experience, I am the one who bears the guilt of spoiling the festive yom kippur fast! You don't say...

VIP to Taping of Dancing with the Stars, the Results Show.

I know that many in this place are too intelligent to enjoy flashy entertainment, as Dancing with the Stars, so I suppose you won't be reading my report of spending the day on taping of Dancing with the Stars , the results show. I do enjoy good entertainment, sorry, I don't watch the news. Actually, I do, the enertainment news & must add that with the years have become as good as I can probably replace Mario Lopez on EXTRA, well, he doesn't know how to interview people anyway....

So, naturally, in our Russian community, people know people, and our people happen to know Maksim Chmerkovskiy ( yes, I'm sure, that's the correct spelling, even more so: I can easily pronounce it!) and Lena Grinenko. I assume I'd skip the explanation of who they are, since I assume only the DWS fans will be reading. I'm leading that to the point that we received VIP tickets.

As VIP ticket holders we had great seats facing the front of the stage, very close to it and were relieved of standing on high heels and a suit ( obviously in my husband's case, that would be the suit) in the current LA heat of over 100F. Dressy attire is required. No, we did not intend to show well on the camera, in fact we spotted the tips of our heads in complete darkness, after watching the show on TV later that night. But I felt great to finally get the chance to dress up & put make up.  ( Lots of it).

The friends instructed us to go meet Maks in the end of the show: " Just pass him our best regards! He's a friend! So, here's your opening line!"

Maks came out in the middle of taping for the elimination section. Along with all the other couples with the female stars. He's just as handsome, looks much thinner in life then on TV: probably it's those 10 Lbs that the camera allegedly adds...and there were about 5 cameras. As an immigrant I envy and admire his and his family's success and achievements in USA. Judging by his information on the Russian version of classmates.com, we were probably neighbours and as kids walked in the same parks, which makes it a bit exciting...in a strange non stalking fan way.

Oh, right, there were other people on the show, as well! The stars that left the show, Ashley Hamilton and Macy Grey...had it coming. I do wish we could see Edyta having a longer run on the show. My husband would probably be even more excited to see that. She looks as stunning and graceful as a Grecian goddess. Kelly Osbourne looked like a movie star from the 50-s! They repeated the waltz & it was like a fairy tale on stage. I didn't care for Karina's jungle pants and a furry nest around the barely there chest...Maybe she might be nicer to the costume and hair&make up department, since we have already seen those christmas tree pants one too many times, they don't even look flattering on Krupa, the model, that Derek is so obviously excited about. It seems like he's the only one. She bears the strangest resemblance to Nicole Sheridan who was desperately killed off the Housewives, the original ones. Debi is FUNNY! But that judgement is assesed from reading her twitts, blogs and watching her interviews. The woman has a killer body -  this is based on seeing the show live.

For some reason you don't feel these nerves and anxiousness doesn't translate into the audience during taping. I think you can detect it more on the camera close up. The tribute to Patric Swayze was beautiful and touching but more on TV later, then during taping, when cameras were gliding in front of our faces adding extra pounds to Cheryl, who looked glowing with the longer hair style and a light peachy a la Baby dress, making it a bit awkward for Tony visibly preparing mentally to catch all this weight and keep it on gracefully with trembling hands. Oh, and the cutest thing Chelsie, was a dove in duet with Dmitry ( no, not DIMITRY, it's Dmitry, he's not Greek!). I was rather disappointed that Maks did not participate in this number. After the show ended my husband, a former actor, who can approach anyone and say anything, insisted on approaching Maks....yes, my husband is a fan now too, he votes religiously! No, he is NOT gay! Back to Maks....again....I don't stalk people...so, no, I never went up to him to pass those friends' regards...

It's interesting how the show is taped, you see things live that are not actually live, people who are in the studio who are kind of not really there...but I'll keep that to myself, let it stay as exciting as it is for you!

Chocolate pasta!

Stoped by Tuesday Morning today. Amidst gourmet souces & olive oils spotted CHOCOLATE PASTA! Had to have it! It's in the small package, lacy small curles, dark chocolate color, SO APPETISING! It suggests 3 recepies on the back of the package: 1 with chicken, 2 with raspberry souce....Well, while paying I entertained the idea of mixing both recepies & adjusting to my skills & pantry reserves: probably will do my idea of a raspberry  sauce with fresh raspberries, sauteed with a bit of brown sugar, lemon zest, a bit of cognac ( they suggest Grand Marnier, but....my pantry doen't offer that), will fold it into my variation of creme fraiche: russian style sour cream ( will try to find low in fat or calories, although the russian style & production of which already contradicts this find). So that will smother the luschios chocolate pasta curles & I'll top that with my favourite topping: crunch of toasted walnuts...

We might have a couple of friends over in a week to celebrate their 10th anniversary that we had to miss...Seems to me like a festive meal to serve for this occasion! What do you think?

Inspired by Julias

The following text is not a moview review.

Last Saturday we went to see the much anticipated Julie & Julia. I love Meryl Streep, it seems that the woman can play a wooden bench with a performance worthy of the Academy nomination and I absolutely adore Amy Adams. Her close ups are cute and warm and approachable and just keep you staring.

The day before Nora Ephron, the director & script writer gave an interview on the View. Naturally, it was interrupted and on the background of 4 non stopping voices. She told how important it was for her to create this movie for women. To her mind only women posess this ability of taking their life and completely re-making it in the middle of their life, whereas to her opinion a man would just buy a boat. Well, I'd disagree here about a man, but you'd have to be an immigrant to know other immigrants to know this....Anyhow, it got me inspired.

With teary eyes and much to my sadness I saw myself in the scene of lunch with the successful girlfriends. I saw myself in the scene of Julie answering  phones at work. I saw myself in the scenes of Julie's frustrations ( including putting a life lobster into the boiling pot)...

I recently started on a small creative hobby. Thought I might engage myself in a bit of creativity since I'm at home with the baby. And by "at home with the baby" I mean long hours and days, since our Californian summer doesn't allow spending much time ouside. So I bounce of the walls, perpetually engaging in something around the house.

I didn't have much faith in my makings, just a feeling of an accomplishment by the bed time. Something to occupy my thoughts besides the kids and the house chores. But I am aware that it can't turn my life over.

I wish I was only turning 30. I wish I had more time and determination. I wish I had a close, tell me in my face, easy in communication , no manual required girlfriend.  I wish I had something to occupy me that might turn our life around. I wish I had a better story about me to tell my kids. If they'll ever be interested...at all. But I think I got inspired.

Happy Anniversary!

I met my husband on the blind date 8 1/2 years ago. I didn't want to go. I didn't believe in those agonising encounters. I wasn't 23 anymore & my mother was getting beyond herself trying to make me meet a man. There was a line of blind dates that would easily give material for 2 seasons of sitcom with an option of extended contract & elevated salary. The last one, a week before I met my husband called & said that he doesn't know who gave him my phone number, but his mommy reminded him that  he had it & it was about time he called me. Immediate charmer. He also bragged about his high position in High Tech industry. I don't know what possessed me to agree to meet this flower. He said he'll pick me up from house, but won't be able to call me, so I haev to wait for him outside, otherwis he will enter(SOS!!!) because he doesn't have a cell phone ( I know, High-Tech, 2000.....). When he arrived, I couldn't get into the car. No, of course, he didn't get out to open the door for me. WHY? He was busy emptying the front seat from garbage ( literally), throwing it on the floor in front of that same seat . I didn't even look at the rear seat...So, still, possessed by the overdose of the unknonw aphrodesiac, I proceeded to the 40 minutes of pain listening to his Napoleon plans for the future, regarding real estate, work achievements and family, all looking important in his old track suit, with knees so stretched, they almost hit the floor. Sexy-ie... I know...I aplogize for not writing down his phone number...Oh, sorry, he didn't have one! (Besides an important work number with even more important 3 digit extension) So, under a silly pretence & my acute intolerance of the growing pain in my cute behind I asked to be driven home. The pain escaladed when he wondered if I was ever married before, since I'm so quiet ( really?!!!) & know my place.....(DIE, DIE NOW!!! No, wait, drive me home & then DIE!!!). I gave directions to a shortcut to my house, which were utterly  ignored & later explained: the road had speed bumps, he will not damage his precious car for that.....When I slammed the door of his trash flooded car with no good byes, the look of disdain & disbelief was priceless....My parents were thanked with the high notes speech with an occasional use of profanity that I thought would be very efficient for putting a stop to their wanna be noble efforts. I consoled myself with George mIchael special on MTV Europe ( which by the way is WAY too good & is actually MTV ( MUSICAL TELEVISION), as opposed to TRTV  (TRASHY REALITY TV) here.

My BFF ( male, with a girfriend who wasn't too thrilled having me somewhat so close) persuaded me to go on a date:" He's an actor, probably looks good..."

He called. Traumatized by the sequence of dreadful blind dates, I explained to him  that there was no point in meeting, since we live in different cities (a bit more then 1 hour drive apart). He told me that he worked in my city, in the theater. I cinically asked going for that same lets-not-meet result "what do you play? an Easter bunny?" Now, an actor in Israel, isn't your LA typical actor, who waits in the restaurants & once in three years has an occasional no lines part on the bagkround of the mass scene  in a low budget movie. He was a full time working actor, working on a few projects. And then he told me which one of them was the most famous: a play where he had a lead role of a Russian immigrant, that I happened to see with my mother a few months ago. Naturally, he was disguised with the long blond wig, thick glasses, self cut shorts with high armpit waist and the most authentic: sandals with dark grey socks. Also, to add to the authenticity of his occupation and nationality, his part included an obligatory profanity in every second sentence that made my mother, a former soviet teacher, very uncomforatble in her seat. I'd spit in your eye if you'd tell me that this blond nerd in such sexy shorts, cursing with heavy accent is my destiny.

He sounded suprisingly nice & humorous on the phone, he didn't present me with the form that he was filling out on the other end with the pathetic: what are you looking for? ( obviusly not you!) do you have high education? ( why? will my diploma make your meatloaf tastier?) So, I agreed ... I was expecting that ...character, but was pleasantly suprised with his good looks. I smiled when he entered & that's what he remembers until today, that 1st look & smile & the  turn of my head, that he translated into :" she's the one!"

We had a great time in the coffee shop & then he suggested  to see a play that won great reviews & was playing that night. Of course, we enter for free. What a 1st date treat - how intellegently, I'm going to the theater! I called my mom to tell her that I was going to the theater & will be home late. Naturally, she was alarmed & surprised. "With whom?!" ( Jewish mother needs a full report, including an improve answer to the " if he's so great, then how come he is still single?" ) "Well, remember that guy, in this play, who was cursing from the stage?! Well, with him."

An hour later I was proudly shown off to all  behind the scenes workers & with their notable approval we were seated only to see another play, about a group rape in a kibbutz, based on a true story. He confused the dates. I didn't know yet that I found my best friend and my best everything.

I moved in with him in 3 months. In another 3 we moved to USA. Risque? Oh, yes, but for me, all resonable, cool headed and more resonable it was so...natural, as they say: it felt right. I had no doubts.

Since then, we went through our second immigration that as any consists of family feuds, social discomfort, language barrier, acclimatisation at the new place, financial difficulties and more  financial difficulties. We probably lost our careers, a few close friends. We also had our achievements, our ups and downs. We had 2 kids. We found new friends.  Since the day we met, each day I've been reminded of how much I am loved. Each time I've needed a friend he was there. Each time I needed to buy a pair of shoes, he was there. Each time there was a good chick flick, we're watching together. Each time I was misunderstood by others, I was understood by him. Roseanne said: "love is when all those crazy things you do look cute to him" ( By the way, I'm TOTALLY normal, sanity is my middle name).  He GETS ME. My kids are the luckiest to have a fun and caring and will-do-it-all dad.

We just celebrated our 7th anniversary. He always remembers the dates.  This year we're in a financial dump. I thought, no, not this year....but yet again, he made it memorable & surprising. I thank him for those wonderful 7 years of love, and friendship, and care, and admiration that I feel every day, that make my other emotional, social and physical struggles retrieve to the background. I congratulate myself on being such a lucky lucky girl! Happy Anniversary!

Pondering Reality TV

I'm not a big fan of reality shows, but there are so many of them on all the channels & while sitting at home all day long, Oprah doesn't entertain that long. So either you want it or not, you're watching something "real"...Anyhow, a promo started on the new spin of the Bachelor, the one for real size women with the real size bachelor. They show those truly beautiful faces on overweight bodies, crying from dispair, rejection & fierce competition, large size bodies jumping on top of the real size bachelor who looks strangled by the XL love. A week before, I saw a promo for the Bachelorette segment where hot & fit candidates bickered & gossiped trying to reduce the competition like a crowd of high heeled high pitched cuties at the Saks shoe sale.

I've been always wondering the same thing: this 1st grand entrance scene, the bachelo/ette meets the almost tacky dressed over tanned candidates: you always see an "awe!" followed by drool & a trembling hand with a glass of what's supposed to be champagne... Doesn't anyone ever have the most natural thought occuring: HE/SHE is NOT MY TYPE! Based on the  popular theory that one knows if there is chemistry within the first 45 seconds of the date:)

Frustrating Joys of Motherhood

Prologue

I’d like to start with the prayer for being fortunate to have 2 good pregnancies & delivering 2 healthy beautiful kids.

They all said the kids will turn your life for the better. What did they mean? It definitely enriched our lives….with stories & wild emotions… But there are more components to our life then that. Socially & financially it went south on the fastest express train there is. At my last post I received many kind responses, among them wishes to enjoy those joys of motherhood that I’d like to discuss here. Many mothers I talk to frown upon mentioning hardships & frustrations: apparently anything negative in association with the baby seems to be a taboo. Why? Is it socially defined and obliged to be all cute? Let’s see….

Vent I

The Breastfeeding

The following views were not approved by FDA. I hated breastfeeding! Never felt natural in either touch or sight. The pain was excruciating. If they’d only have an epidural dose for this…To the point that when a gorgeous young lactation specialist came to see me in the hospital after my 1^st delivery, despite her professional agenda “die, but keep trying to breastfeed”, in 10 minutes declared that maybe formula is a way for me, eyes full of condolences…I was silent, didn’t utter a word, but I guess the look of misery saved the day. I succumbed once again to the guilt inflicting looks of my mom & my husband & gave it another try at home: I literally saw my tear jumping outside my eye in slow motion, no, didn’t feel it running across my face, I saw it in mid air, like the bullets in this violent sexy movie with Angelina Jolie, the peace maker….

I turned to pumping machine…Another sexy image. Joy? Who in her right mind could think of any positive emotion or baby’s health benefits at the moment when your breast is sucked & squeezed inside the plastic device  that looks more like a torture machine?! I couldn’t… Suffered for a few more weeks & put a stop to it. My pediatrician kindly approved it, since “ it prevented me to enjoy my motherhood”. You won’t believe the emotional & physical relief!

One family friend, father of three, “warmly supported”: “No, my kids only took breast  milk, never had any other crap”….Well, 1^st of all, they do: just check out your wife’s cooking or open your cupboards stuffed with Costco amounts of sweets in all shapes & colors. Those purple worms don’t scream nutrition! And when was the last time they ate a vegetable? Ketchup doesn’t count! Besides, after 3 years of suction, look at the boobs you’re left with! Who’s laughing now?!

I also never understood public breastfeeding… You can definitely argue that an act of eating is healthy and natural. I’ll argue that so is sex (“Sex is natural, sex is fun! La-lala-la” by George Michael), but you don’t do it in public (Unless you’re yet again…George Michael)! Our dear friend, the modest of girls, would never bare as much as a knee, came to visit us. In the middle of conversation, in the most non challant way, takes out the boob…My husband isn’t embarrassed easily, but OMG, it’s OUR FRIEND’s boob!

We went straight to Enfamil with the arrival of our 2^nd baby. What a difference…So, what would you choose? Joy of motherhood or the excruciating debilitating pain in the name of what? Nutrition? Immunization? G-d knows how much pain & negativity is transferred to the baby with the “pain milk”. Wouldn’t he/she rather appreciate a smiling mommy?

Vent II

The Play Dates

It’s the new term for going out for the parents. I do experience joy in finally putting my lip gloss on & leaving the house! I dislike play dates! Most of them…I’m stressed when the play date is in my house because of potential danger of other kids spoiling my Pottery Barn carpet & Crate & Barrel furniture ( By the way, do I get any residuals for mentioning those brands? For any case I LOVE MY POTTERY BARN CARPET & MY CRATE & BARREL TRUNK!!!). When the play date is hosted at the friends’ house, I’m stressed running or watching my husband running after our perpetum mobile stereo sound toddler to prevent him damaging other people’s stuff. Even if it's ugly stuff.

Every time I look forward to those fun adult conversations on the background of yelling, crying, stomping, buzzing…etc... The new usual sentence grammar would be definitely coded for aliens: “ yesterday we went to see don’t touch that!” or “ my co-worker told me that his wife give him back this toy!!!!!” & my favorite “ I went to the mall yesterday & you won’t believe who I saw do you want to pee?!”

It bothers me when the dearest of friends arrive with their 4-year old bully, or as they call him “mature”. The crying starts immediately after he enters the room. His parents are surprised every time, after all at home he’s Prince charming, softie and sweetie. The sounds of crying escalade when one of the kids hits the floor…with his head, courtesy of the mature toddler. The mature one is dragged out of the house, sweeping the floor with his superhero shorts. They return in a bit, his father tells us that they had a talk & the mature son explained to him why it happened: apparently, he’s indeed too mature for a 3-year old to explain the need of sharing, he was too little to understand the mature wanted that bike! So, violent pushing turned out to be more effective. Happens almost every time…how do you explain to your dearest of friends that their son should be locked up? So, you start limiting the play dates, thus limiting yourself from the social circle.

In the middle of this asylum “Fluffy & the Ducks” another friend, mother of 2 adorables informs her husband that she’d like a 3^rd baby. I won’t use profanity to quote his answer, but it was short & concise.

The joy? Oh, yes, we left the house, our toddler was entertained, I had my lip-gloss on, we made it safe home. Would I rather go out without the kids? Most definitely. But it’s not about my joy anymore; it’s about the kids’ joy now, their social life, as grand as it sounds for their age.

Vent III

Travel

Don’t get me started. The cost, the packing, the stress, the sleeping/eating arrangements, lack of possibility to see anything but adventure parks for years to come, mood swings management….let’s stay at home.

Epilogue

I know that little kids = little problems, big kids=big….So, is there any true joy? Of course, & plenty of it: the sweet minutes of the baby’s look full of adoration, kid’s creams of joy, the touch of his hand when he takes yours, hugs and kisses, funny faces, funny smart ass toddler remarks, achievements, sweet smell of their skin & I’m sure more to come as the kids grow…But is it all joy? Do we pretend to enjoy every minute because it’s socially expected & otherwise will be frowned upon as bad parents? Am I a bad parent not to enjoy the outings with the kids but do so because it’s the right thing to do? Is it right to tell the parent to be what a world of bliss they’re entering? In fact my friend was so much shocked in a few months after the birth of her 1^st child, she repeatedly told me with much frustration :” If anyone would just tell me the truth!” On the other hand, how come you didn’t foresee any of that? Just a human instinct? Just an educated guess?

Of course we love our kids to death, but do we have to pretend to love the journey to the end? A joke comes to mind: An old Jewish couple is about to leave the house to go to a funeral. He wears yellow shoes."You're not going to a funeral in yellow shoes!" "Why, what does it matter to the deceased?" " Change them to your old black shoes!" "They're uncomfortable!" "Change the shoes!!!" "OK, fine! But I'm not going to enjoy this funeral!"

Acknowledgements

If you’re reading this line, I’m extremely flattered and touched that you took so much of your precious time to read my long coming post. Thank you!

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Hello!

Hello!

Let me introduce myself: my name is Yana, I reside in sunny ( too sunny for my taste) CA, a proud ( more like stressed) mother of 2 most beautiful kids ( absolutely objective, you may ask all those people of all age groups, who'd stop in the middle of the street/mall/park to admire those sweet faces), Max of 4 years old & 6 months old Renee.

In my past life, my husband & I were somewhat of a power couple: he used to be an actor ( awards enclosed, including Film Academy award for the best newcoming actor, equivalent of the American Oscar) & I used to be a fashion designer....Sounds glamorous, right? Wrong! & then we came to USA...Immigration No. 2 ( before that we emmigrated once being almost teenagers from the former Soviet Union).

I spent the next couple of years still as a fashion designer, being glamorously humiliated, insulted & cheated by my senior designers/company owners...My husband turned into a salesman, as it turned out the top salesman in his company,  with occasional & extremely rare acting projects. & then it was time to have kids.

So, now I'm a housewife, still hopelessly awaiting the extension of the Bravo TV project to "Desperate Housewifes of Tarzana" & my husband is now an insurance agent ( if anyone's interested, let me know: he'll work hard to get yu the best quote).

This year I turned...35, here I wrote it & shivered as I typed the number. I usually maintain my 25 limit of my age( varies from 18 & up to 25 & yes, i use moisturizes, but no surgeries invlolved)  - it's my age, i update it whenever i want, trying to keep in mind the correct year of birth as each year turns:)) ( Oh, & that's with my math talents...) So, I guess it was this year when I realized what a mid life crisis is...Before that I assumed that would be a diagnosis of a middle aged man in high end designer tailored suit, baseball cap & a luxury convertable accompanied by a hot young....companion of either gender.....

No, mid life crisis is when you're afraid that you'll have nothing to say or better steer away of a career day at your kid's school. 

Mid life crisis is when all of your "future" plans never came true & now you're too old to start a career or to be hired at anything more upscale then a secretary, sorry, I forgot to mention that the last 2 years of my employment were spent in the windowless office of poorly functioning  law office. Getting paid became a treat & an unusual surprise...

Mid life crisis is when your body is still well, but a mini skirt is inappropriate.

Mid life crisis is when you're now referred to as "aunt".

I can keep counting the symptoms, but I'm afraid of the migrain that'll devide & wrinkle my forehead - afterall, I wouldn't want to waste all this money spent on the wrinkle filler, which seems to work better on Sarah Jessica Parker, on the other hand - what doesn't work better on SJP? (Sigh....)

I hope to sound more cheerful at the next post. Maybe a gossip next time:) ( or maybe always:)