christening gown

busted!


I am trying to get some spit up stains out of Tallulah's christening gown. Well, it's not hers really--and not because Annabelle wore it first. That gown belongs to me and my mom.





You see, back in 1999, before these children were even a twinkle in my eye, we subscribed to Gourmet (RIP) magazine. The Italy edition arrived at our house. And it had this huge list of things to do and shops to go to in Italy, and in Rome. One of them was a place that only sold Christening gowns. I am surprised I noticed it, because 1) I seldom read Gourmet, preferring In Style or Country Living and 2) it was just this tiny blurb on a long list. But I read it and I thought-- if I ever go to Italy, I am going to find it and get a gown from there. Fast forward to October of 2007. The Stevens Family Italy trip. Two weeks, paid for by all the days my mom didn't take off while she was teaching. Ten days in Tuscany and the last four in Rome. We had reached a point in the vacation where if you could divorce your blood relatives, we would have been filing petitions. The only person who was holding everyone together, Hyphen, had gone back to Houston (while he is extremely crazy, he is delightful to go on vacation with, because as long as his hotel room is orderly, he is Happy- Go- Lucky- Vacation- Guy) Audrey and her husband were off touring ruins of some sort (her husband is definitely not happy go lucky vacation guy, and I say that with love and affection, kind of...). My dad wanted an afternoon off, he was still recovering from the stress of the loss, search and recovery his passport in the Rome airport. So that left me and my mom, and I was in a delicate condition. So I suggested that we find this shop. I got the concierge to let me use the Internet for free. Audrey said that he and I flirted a lot, but I don't think so--Italian men, they are just friendly, no? And I found what I thought might be the shop. It was near the Spanish Steps and after he arranged for a taxi, my mom and left to find it. We walked around a bit and asked for lots of help before we found it-- Lavori Artigianali Femmilini. We walked in, unsure if we were even in the right place, until we looked at all the lovely hand smocked dresses and Christening gowns. I got the cheapest one. And it was still 250 euros. My mom bought the bonnet, 50 euros. We walked out, thrilled and excited for this little child that had received blessings, candles and prayers at every church we went into in Italy (in case you are wondering, we went into a lot of Churches) and for the baptism to come. This beautiful gown was the first thing I had bought for it (she was an it until she was born). Then we walked by McDonald's and my mom suggested we eat some fries, which we did. And then we went to see the Spanish Steps. We were scheduled to see it the next night, with the while family. We knew if Audrey found out that we saw them without her, there would be hell to pay, but we were right there, in Rome, with our fancy shopping bags and greasy fingers and decided we were good enough actresses to pretend to be amazed the next night. We took a picture at the fountain at the bottom of the steps and hoped no one realized what we did. Then we went back to the hotel. I still remember my mom thanking me for including her, and for making the baby seem more real and for the wonderful afternoon.

No mom, thank you.

Tallulah Rose

Tallulah Rose is a peaceful child, except when she is angry. She starts out so politely, moving her arms and legs, then makes a few little noises, then we graduate to a quiet cry, then a loud one, then a scream and then what I like to call the silent scream of rage. It is unfortunate, but she gets to the silent scream of rage because she is the second child, and is often put aside in order for me to cook, clean or deal with an almost three year old who has taken to ordering me about like she is a grumpy, old, overweight person on a little rascal from Porter and I am a waitress at the Golden Corral. But she is patient, because she is the second child and does make her initial demands in a very polite manner.

Because she is the second child she lives in a bassinet in our room. She has no real nursery, no table made by her grandpa,chairs made by her great grandmother, and certainly not 5 handmade baby quilts--just a really cute corner of the guestroom, that I can't bring myself to put her in, because it is so far away and because she is the second child, my last baby, she can stay in our room for as long as she fits in the bassinet (perhaps longer if I can convince H to bring the crib downstairs.)

Because she is the last baby, she does not have to cry herself to sleep. The first one needed to learn to sleep on her own, before I went back to work and I was very Tiger Mom about it, putting her in the crib and walking off to the living room and where H and I would huddle together, and try to reassure ourselves we were doing the right thing while we listened to her cry until she stopped. But not my last baby. My last baby has been cuddled and coddled and pacified and nursed to sleep, and now just drifts off on her own with nary a tear.

She is a very social child and will fuss if she is in a room by herself. She likes to be part of the ruckus, especially where her sister is. She loves her sister and has a special smile reserved just for Annabelle. And whenever I grouse about how it isn't fair to her about the nursery, the lack of picture taking, grandma time, and attention in general she gets, Hyphen will say in that way he sometimes has of making everything better "yes, that is true, but she has something that Annabelle never had, she has a big sister who loves her."

My last baby gave me my most favorite Christmas present, a real true social smile. She was only a month old. Annabelle didn't smile until she was two months old, and then did it just once and for Hyphen, not me. Tallulah smiles and coos all the time (except during the silent scream of rage) for anyone who looks at her, but especially for me. She can also roll over from front to back and back to front. Just like Annabelle, when she is excited about something, she kicks her legs about, but Annabelle didn't start doing this until she was about 5 months old.

And the jury is still out on who she looks like. About half say Hyphen and Annabelle, the other half say me. Personally, I think that when she smiles and lifts her eyebrows, she looks like Jack Nicholson, which causes me to say "come out, come out, where ever you are," but I am a little crazy from lack of sleep.

But no matter, she is Tallulah Rose, my second child, my last baby, who makes her own way in this world, and in my heart.

what's for dinner

So I feel the need to bestow my super delicious chili recipe upon the world. Here it goes:

Stella's super easy chili:

one medium onion, chopped smallish
some olive oil (note: I am not Julia Child and am not in the business of writing recipe books, so I am not exactly precise, but that is okay, you can't screw this up)
5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 lb. ground chuck (you could use something leaner, but I don't guarantee results with something leaner)
chili powder (what you have in the house, I several kinds and I use them all)
Kosher salt
ground cumin
1 28 oz can of whole tomatoes
1 15 oz can of cannenili beans
3 cups chicken stock (why chicken stock? because I never have beef stock on hand)
Cheddar cheese
Green onions, chopped

Saute onion in olive oil until tender, about seven minutes. Add garlic and continue to saute for one more minute. Add beef and brown for a bit. Before meat is completely brown, start adding the chili powder. It is probably about 3 tablesspoons. Add some salt. A couple of big pinches. Add cumin (note, my mom puts cumin, what she calls cominoes, in everything. She even suggested we put them in our Thanksgiving dressing, but I told her that our Thanksgiving would be comino free.) Add tomatoes, crushing them as you add them. Add beans (note, obviously with addition of beans, this is not a true Texas chili, but it is good, nonetheless). Add stock and cook down.

Top with cheddar and green onions and enjoy. Add corn bread if you like. Saltines if you don't. Or fritos if you are from San Antonio.

my word for the year

I was reading in some blog somewhere that someone's word for the year was nourish. I liked hearing that. I like that word. Nourish. That is what I am supposed to be doing right now, nourishing my family, everyone, even Hyphen. But I am going to add something to the mix. My word is going to be fun. It is suppoed to be fun. We are supposed to be having fun. There is no point in my staying home. No point in having a clean house, no point in going to the zoo, or to ballet or making supper if were are not having fun.

Fun. Have more fun.