non-alcoholic drinks

I blinked, and somewhere in the process November became December. Days seem to blend into one another lately, and the last week has especially left me pondering my life now compared to just one year ago. There are a million words swirling in my head, yet they float not quite capable of connecting themselves to one another to form a proper thought. The words being emotions and feelings really, much of which leave me even more confused when I try to piece them together.

So, my approach these last few weeks has been to really take my own advice. I’ve been consumed with just trying to be present and fully aware of every moment. We spend so much of our lives being connected to something, instead of someone. And so my silence here, there and everywhere these last few weeks has been because I’ve been absorbed with experiencing life rather than simply documenting it.

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I look at this photo of us, sharing a kiss during a Cape Cod sunset, and it reassures me he was happy. People have a way of losing themselves in parenthood. It’s a constant juggle, and often one half of the couple is left feeling they have more than their fair share of balls to keep in the air.

We were no exception.

But the way his eyes are closed in this picture, the way his lids rest gently on his lower lashes, they tell me he found peace with me. The same deep brown eyes that, when open, spoke volumes when not a single word was being uttered—they do the same thing in this moment captured, but they are closed.

Months after Michael and I started dating, I remember snuggling my head in his chest, and saying it was my favorite place in the world. I continued to tell him that as days turned into years, and the other night I found myself burrowing my head into his pillow, in search of the warmth that crook of his chest gave me for 16 years.

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I have a drinking problem.

Not that kind, though it's no secret I do enjoy a cocktail or nice glass of wine.

It goes beyond the actual beverage. Perhaps we should call it a glass fetish—or obession. I don't know if one is really better than the other.

I'm a stickler for stemware, and have certain preferences for pretty much everything I drink. I hate mammoth martini glasses. Six ounces is way too much for a cocktail. A perfectly balanced blend of spirits is more suited to an old-fashioned three ounce cocktail glass.

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Saturday nights I tend to don my insomniac hat. See, Sundays are the one day of the week I don’t set an alarm. It is my day to “sleep in” while the Mr. stirs and tends to the girls. I cherish those lazy mornings, when I rise around 8:30 or 9:00am—a big contrast to the 6:00am I wake every other day. The problem is my mind and body have become adept at running on 6 hours of sleep, and just as I’m about to settle into bed around 11:00pm, I get hit with a second wind.

Secretly, I enjoy this ritual. Everyone is snuggled, all cozy in bed. The house is silent, and it’s a rather peaceful way to say goodbye to what has usually been a hectic week. I force myself to bed no later than 2:00am, so in the end my “sleeping in” doesn’t grant me more dreamtime. But the reprieve from my weekly morning activities is a very welcome one.

I know. You’re wondering why the heck I’m talking about lazy Sunday mornings when it’s Monday and we’re all back to the grind. Frankly, next to my girls waking up in a good mood, there’s no better greeting to the day than a perfect cup of coffee.

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Hard to believe strawberry season will soon be over. By now my pantry should runneth over with homemade jam, except my heart is big and I often find myself giving jars of it away as if I had an endless supply. Thankfully I've also been building a stash of strawberries in the freezer, and one thing I'll really look forward to this winter is some strawberry sweet tea.

Since our apartment is above the boiler room and the rest of our co-op board prefers to keep the thermostat at 72º in the winter, it's not hard to imagine I live on a tropical island, even during a snowstorm. And when such an occasion hits, I'm going to make a batch of this iced tea, throw a blanket down on the floor and play picnic with the girls.

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I don't keep soda in the house, and every now and again, the urge for a sweet burst of carbonation hits me. This usually happens while the baby is napping or at midnight—both times when running out to the market aren't an option. About two months ago, such a craving arose and I approached it as I would any cooking challenge and decided to see I could do with the ingredients I had on hand.

A quick survery showed some seltzer, and tucked away in the back of the fridge was a bottle of Nellie & Joe's Famous Key West Lime Juice. I also had some simple syrup in there. A few minutes later, an icy cold rocks glass was filled with a spash of this and spritz of that, and I was sipping a citrusy drink with a hint of coconut flavor. Add it to this weekend's festivities and kick it up with a shot of bourbon or tequila for a head start on the fireworks.

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