A recurring theme at dinner these last few weeks has been "Where I want to live when I grow up..." Adrienne wants to be a scientist and live where her grandparents and cousins live, up north. She's been on this scientist kick for over a year now, I'll feed it as long as it lasts. It's cute to see her so interested, but also so grounded that she's got this little plan for herself that includes being in a place we consider home.
Charlotte has told me on multiple occasions that she wants to live in Hawaii. The draw? Coconut bras. For some reason she is completely smitten with the idea of wearing one. Which cracks me up because it's the furthest thing from her usual garb of princess dresses. Even when she's not in dress ups if she can find a dress or a skirt she will opt for that first. She likes to wear things that she thinks are pretty and she has very definite ideas about what that is.
Genevieve wants to live in Asia so she can take ninja lessons. (Maybe I should look into enrolling her in karate or something...) She specifically says China, but will occasionally say Japan if Adrienne interjects with a comment like "Ninjas mostly live in Japan!" And, speaking of dinner, I've come to realize more and more that this child in particular eats just like her father. Really fast, and if it's something saucy that she loves she wears a lot of it on her face. Case in point, ribs from Sunday's dinner:
She ate two ribs and completely cleaned her plate of every last baked bean and kernel of corn. The rib bones were practically sucked clean.
I spent all afternoon Sunday fiddling in the kitchen. I needed to make salsa and guacamole for our eating pleasure all week (chips and salsa + guac are a favorite snack 'round these parts), and I whipped up a potato salad, corn, and baked beans (Bush's, I'm slightly too lazy to remember to soak dried beans so I never buy them... I probably should, though). I had intended to take photos of what I made and blog about it (not wanting to turn this into a food blog but using that as fodder to get me writing more), but I forgot since Matt finished up the grilling when a neighbor came over for a minute. All I have are these pictures of Genevieve enjoying her meal. I didn't take pictures of the rest of the kids because they weren't hilariously messy like she was. The ribs did turn out pretty dang fabulous, if I do say so myself. It was my first attempt at making them and I pretty much rocked it. I'll be revisiting them so hopefully then I will remember to take photos.
Sidenote: We call Genevieve the Baked Bean Queen. The following day she made herself a plate of baked beans for lunch while the rest of us had sandwiches. When she was done and decided she was still hungry she just nuked the bowl of beans and ate them all.
I did get pictures of my salsa and guacamole, though.
I know it looks silly to have an avocado pit in the bowl, but I swear it has a purpose. I saw on pinterest that if you put a pit in your bowl of guac it won't turn brown. Now, eventually it will, but it stays greener for days. And when I make a bowl of guacamole using 6+ it lasts more than 2 days. No one likes brown guacamole. That picture? It's from day 2. Just to the lower left of the pit I took a little scoop out, it was slightly brighter green, but not so much that you thought "Ewwww, brown guac." There are actually 2 bowls of salsa but I only got a shot of the one. The other one is sans black beans and corn. (Yes, I am aware that I opened the Scoops on the bottom.)
I have, thus far, totally neglected to mention my boy. Somewhat intentionally. I don't really have any funny food stories for him, and he doesn't really participate in the "Where I want to live" conversations because he's not even 3 yet and doesn't give a shit. Xander does, however, have this little ritual where he'll say (because I taught him to months ago) "Mom, you're awesome!" I love it. And I will tell him "Thank you, buddy! You're awesome, too!" Almost every time he will respond, "De nada!" Which I did NOT teach him. He's caught on that we think it's freaking hilarious so he's begun saying "de nada" whenever he remembers that it can also replace "you're welcome." He is so different from the girls (they are each beautiful and funny in their own darling way, but far calmer and less mischievous), but so funny and loveable. He can be a little monster and drive me crazy, but when he throws me that little smile I can't help but melt a little. He's such a booger. And he likes my salsa. (See? I did manage to tie it to food after all!)