Search Results for: birth control

Being 41 is not a reliable form of birth control

By in pregnancy 13 Comments

Prego_IMG_7711That’s right folks, somehow I managed to get myself knocked up, by accident, at the ripe old age of 41. This is baffling to me on so many levels. The first of which is, that we were not trying, at all.

We are a historically under-fertile couple. Back when I was 34, “experts” told us we had a .05% chance of getting pregnant naturally. With the help of my amazing acupuncturist, we eventually did, but it took a while.

I am in the midst of peri-menopause. My hormones have been in decline for a few years, getting ready for that old pause in the meno. On my way out, expiring, heading towards old-ladydom, that’s me.

The single-kid thing has always been fine by us. I am not one of those people who looks over at the parent with two kids and thinks How lovely! or Maybe someday… No, I look at that mom with one in the Bjorn and another in the stroller, and think: That poor woman or What a pain in the ass.

We were done, diapers and baby-proofing are distant memories. Quit while you’re ahead we’ve always said. We already have one great kid, why spoil a good thing? Plus, it’s cheaper.

At restaurants, our adorable, well behaved child sits quietly between us, and politely engages in our adult conversation. I watch as the parents of multiple children struggle to maintain order and enjoy their meal. Smiling at my husband, I think to myself: Well, aren’t we just the smartest couple here. Just not smart enough to use a condom.

So how did this happen and what does it mean? Well, I know how it happened, technically, I just can’t fathom how it actually came to fruition.

What does it mean? It means we have to completely re-arrange our world view, our life plans, our furniture. Fortunately, Shane and I have not been great about making life plans, so that’s one issue taken care of already.

It means I might eat chicken. Once, during my last pregnancy I found myself standing outside the Gourmet Garage on 7th Avenue devouring a whole (cooked) chicken breast with my bare hands. All bets are off.

It also means that The Steady Table might be on hiatus for a little while. During those dark days, those awful newborn weeks, which people who have more than one kid on purpose seem to forget about between pregnancies.

What if it’s a boy? I don’t like super heroes, video games, guns, aggressive stuff, banging, yelling, screaming or any other loud noises. I don’t know anything about little penises. And man-oh-man, I really don’t like screaming.

I’m sure I sound cold and ungrateful, but I don’t mean to. I struggled with infertility once, I know how it feels. Who am I to scoff at an unexpected baby surprise? It’s just that it’s not what I had in mind. Feeling like shit 24/7 for the past 8 weeks didn’t help either.

I will eventually embrace this pregnancy. It’s pretty much impossible to deny that it was meant to be, the way it happened against all odds. Some little soul, out there in the ether, decided it would be nice to be a part of our family. We’re a pretty fun family, after all.

If everything goes according to plan, this baby’s going to pop out—quickly and painlessly, please!—in early to mid-December. And in spite of everything, I’m going to love it like crazy. We all will. Even if it’s a boy.

Also, this is what we had for dinner:
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Half-birthdays and enchiladas

By in cakes, family, parties

Normally, I don’t condone half-birthday celebrations. They seem like a gateway to third and quarter birthdays, and if you open that door, your cake situation is going to get totally out of control.

However, normal went out the window for us 41 days ago (not that I’m counting). So when Rose asked if we could celebrate her half birthday with enchiladas for dinner, I said “Sure! I’ll even make you half a cake.”

Enchiladas are new to our repertoire but they’re an appropriate pandemic food because of all the canned goods that go into them. I’ll post my recipe below.

Per usual, we had our favorite Chocolate Mayonnaise Cake (recipe here). I halved the recipe (even though halving 3 eggs is tricky), frosted it with cream cheese frosting and topped it with 6 and 1/4 candles. We sang half of the happy birthday song with my aunt, uncle and cousin who dropped in via zoom.

Happy 12.5 to my girl. Hang in there, folks.

• Bean & Cheese Enchiladas •
serves 4-6

6-8 flour tortillas
Two 14oz cans enchilada sauce (we use one mild and one medium)
15oz can vegetarian refried beans
15oz can pinto beans, rinsed and drained
4 cups grated cheddar cheese (3.5 will do too)
Sour cream and cilantro leaves for topping
(Avocados would be nice if you can get them)

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Combine the beans, 1 can of enchilada sauce and two cups of cheese in a bowl and stir to combine.

Pour some enchilada sauce in the bottom of a 9″ x 13″ baking dish. Roll about 3/4 cup of bean and cheese mixture in a tortilla and place in the baking dish. Repeat until your bean mixture is gone. Pour remaining enchilada sauce over the tortillas and top with remaining grated cheese. Bake for about 30 minutes until bubbling.

Let sit for 10 minutes or so and serve with sour cream and cilantro.

A dinner conundrum

By in family, meal plans 1 Comment

Dinner_Conundrum_IMG_9342I don’t usually do a mid-day, non-what-we-had-for-dinner post, but I think this situation warrants it. We have a dinner conundrum.

As you might know, Rose is quite passionate about gymnastics. This week, she was invited to move to a more rigorous training schedule. It’s wonderful news because she’s really been wanting a promotion, and she works so hard, and is so in love with the sport. But it totally messes with things, dinner-wise.

Twice a week she’ll be finishing gymnastics at 7:30pm (we’re angling to change it to 7:00, but still). After which we’ll have to drive home, find parking (at a more challenging time than the previous 6:00pm), have dinner, shower, pajamas, teeth, read(?), and get Rose in bed. All of this needs to be completed by 8:30pm.

Oh shit.

I was already worried about how the new addition would impact our family dinners, but this is a whole new can of challenge. Also, Shane has physical therapy until 7:15pm, three times per week, for the foreseeable future. Having him get dinner ready isn’t an option either.

What we really need is staff. We can’t afford staff, so I guess the next best thing would be a plan. A good plan.

I am not, in general, a planner-aheader but that might need to change. What I’ve decided to try is creating a weekly dinner menu, ahead of time. Next week is our first week on the new schedule.

So far I have this:
Monday – Make-ahead meal & CSA veggies
Tuesday – Chicken & CSA veggies
Wednesday – Coffee shop – call ahead so we don’t have to wait?
Thursday – Something (new?) that can be prepped ahead of time (CSA pickup night) & CSA veggies
Friday – Steak & CSA veggies

I hope you’ll check back to see how it all pans out. I figure if we can make this work, we can handle having another kid around. Hopefully.

As always, suggestions are welcome!
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When you can’t drink, make pie

By in uncategorized 2 Comments

TortaVerde_IMG_7929Ordinarily, the events of the past few days would have me well into a bottle of wine. Sadly, my current condition has preempted the usual form of stress relief.

Instead, I’ve chosen to fixate on pie. I had been planning to make Torta Verde (Swiss Chard Pie) before Shane’s accident. It’s my very favorite thing to do with swiss chard, which I have from last week’s CSA box. And I was excited to try it using half spinach (also CSA) and half chard.

Since Monday, too much of my time has been occupied by trying to figure out when to make the Torta. Last night I made the dough, and then pooped out and ordered takeout.

Tonight I said screw it to our weeknight schedule, because I knew there’d be no relaxing until it was done. Dinner was an hour late, but I suddenly felt much better. And Shane loved the torta, which made it extra-gratifying.

We (meaning they) also had chicken breasts seasoned with Penzey’s Mural of Flavor, and cooked in the grilling pan. Shane managed to cut his chicken, pretty easily with one hand (and we both immediately lost respect for Jaime Lannister).

Here’s a photo of the torta before it went into the oven. If you haven’t tried this recipe before I highly recommend it, just not on a weeknight.
TortaVerde_IMG_7928

I could learn to like trucks

By in family, pregnancy 4 Comments

Trucks_IMG_2919I wrote rather publicly (here and here) about my anxiety over having a second child, and a boy child to boot. It seems like a follow-up is in order, now that the little guy is here.

My second pregnancy was not the comfortable, wonder-filled event that my first was. I tried to get excited, to envision this little baby who I knew I would (and did!) fall madly in love with, but I just couldn’t get there.

It’s possible that I’m just one of those people, who can’t really get excited about something until it happens. It’s also possible that a whole lot of crazy circumstances prevented me from getting on board with having a bun in my oven.

About a month after I found out I was expecting, my husband Shane, was hit by a car while cycling home. Over the next several months he underwent three surgeries, two to his shoulder and one to his back. The back surgery was just over a month before my due date.

Don’t they say to avoid stress while pregnant?

Things weren’t going so smoothly on my end either. After the morning sickness passed, I developed a common but not oft-spoken-of condition that made me feel like I’d been whacked in the groin with a two by four. All the time. The condition only got more painful as my pregnancy progressed. (Ladies, if you have this problem feel free to contact me for some sympathy).

Maybe if circumstances had been different, it would have been easier to find the joy in expecting a baby. It made me sad that I couldn’t find a way to relish what was sure to be my last pregnancy. I felt guilty for not feeling the way I thought I should, and I worried.

I worried about having a boy, and not liking stereotypical boy stuff, like trucks, superheroes and primary color combinations. I worried about how to care for a penis. I worried that my daughter would not be able to handle the transition from only child to sibling. I worried about not being able to afford a second child. I worried about the lack of sleep.

And then he arrived.

There’s a video from when they plopped him on my chest after a ruthless, un-medicated labor. I looked at him and said: “Hi, hi. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay because it’s over now.” And then, as if it just dawned on me: “It’s a baby! Look, Shane! It’s a baby!” He won our hearts, just like that. He didn’t even have a name yet.

All of my anxiety evaporated with his arrival, and many of my concerns turned out to be unwarranted.

I no longer worry about the fact that he’s a boy, because he’s not really a boy yet. I mean, he is of course, but for now he’s just a sweet, little, totally adorable baby. He doesn’t run around screaming and banging on things with sticks, he hasn’t shown a preference for garish color combinations, he didn’t come out with a truck in his tiny hand.

By the time he develops an interest in all those “boy things” that I was so worked up about, I don’t think I’ll care, because I’m already madly in love with him. By that time, I might even find that I’ve learned to like trucks.

Oh, and baby penises? Totally easy to care for. Aside from the occasional spray, they require very little effort, and are simpler than baby vaginas.

Not everything has been as easy as the boy stuff though. My concerns about lack of sleep, and the transition from only child to sibling, turned out to be warranted. Anyone who tells you newborns are easy, is either crazy or a much more capable person than I. Probably the latter.

The same goes for the transition from one kid to two. It can be pretty heartbreaking when you have to choose between getting food on the table, and giving either of your kids only half the attention you feel they deserve.

It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been not-easy with a big fat side of joy and love. And it’s the joy and the love that I cling to, when I add another poop and barf stained item of clothing to a pile of similarly soiled items, and realize that dinner should have been ready an hour ago.

About

By in 4 Comments

Hello. My name is Nina Max Daly and my family eats dinner together every night.* It’s just what we do.

Once upon a time, we lived in New York City, had only one child and I worked from home as a freelance graphic designer. Back then, I started this blog and pretty much kicked ass when it came posting about our dinners every night.

And then I got pregnant again. And my husband got hit by a car and I gave birth to our son. And we moved to Boston where I took a full-time job in an office that is not in my dining room.

I no longer kick ass when it comes to posting about our dinners every night. But I do like to keep up the blog as a way to journal our life in dinners and because some folks seem to like reading it.

Most of our dinners are cooked at home from scratch, sometimes we cheat and have chicken tenders from Trader Joes, occasionally we order in, and every now and then we go out, but home cooked is really the norm. My husband Shane does a lot of the cooking, in fact he’s kind of our main cook now that he’s the freelancer and I’m the suit.

Regardless of who cooks, we never seem to have a lot of time in the evenings, so much of what you’ll find here is very simple and can be made quickly, often without a recipe.

My husband and daughter love meat, a lot. My son doesn’t really like dinner at all, and I’m a vegetarian**. Other than that we eat everything so hopefully you’ll find a nice range of recipes in these posts and here on our recipe page.

You can see where all of the magic used to take place, follow the progress of our new Boston-based kitchen, and get a list of our favorite pantry essentials here.

We hope you enjoy the blog and are inspired to eat dinner with other people because it’s supposed to be real good for you in lots of ways. Please follow us on facebook or instagram if you’d like.

*With very rare exception.

**I ate chicken and fish while pregnant with my kids and I have occasionally eaten fish since, when instructed by my amazing acupuncturist to do so. I do eat eggs (including caviar) and dairy.