It has been so nice not to have done any cooking for the last couple of days, but all good things must come to an end. We left the hospital this afternoon, to get on with life in the real world. It was a really good stay; we have a fantastic doctor and most of the nurses were great, but staying in one room is like existing in some sort of weird catatonic space. My hormones are plummeting as the milk supply is established, and coupled with the lack of sleep I know from past experience that this means some crazy crying times are ahead. Not in a depression way, in fact mainly in a very positive “I can’t believe how perfect she is and that’s why I am crying hysterically” sort of way. It’s all very beyond rational thought. Our doctor likened the hormonal drop to going experiencing menopause over a few days. Anyway, home is a good place to be right now.
Baby N is doing wonderfully, she is perfect in every way, from her beautifully shaped head down to her little froggy feet. We didn’t get any much sleep last night with the feeding and the fussing and the non-stop little grunts and moans that newborns make, the noises you forget about so easily. Her first introduction with her big sister went well, in as much as A wanted to hold her and looked at her for a while. A seemed, in all honesty, much more interested in the many food sources available to her in the hospital than in little babies. Until L picked up a fussing N that is, then the floodgates opened.
This evening, A had a really, really tough time dealing with the new baby in the house. A is really sensitive and invariably gets upset when other people are upset, to the extent that she can cry at a plot twist in a kids story book (Curious George loses the rabbit, George is sad. A starts to get hysterical, can not be consoled that the rabbit is found two pages later). She was doing fine and asking about “my baby” until N started crying for food. The double whammy of a baby crying and the fact that I had to feed her was almost too much for A to deal with. Poor little girl seemed devastated, and I could barely hide my tears. We know this will get easier every day, but it’s so tough for A just now. She’s certainly able to convey her distress, and when I read to her tonight she wanted to be cradled like a little baby. It doesn’t take a great psychological mind to figure out what’s going on in her world. As for the rest of us, N is certainly not experiencing the five star first born baby treatment in the attention stakes and we just need to take it one day at a time.
Speaking of taking things one day at a time, seven out of the next nine meals are made with chicken. Welcome to the baby blues, we hope you’ll enjoy your stay. Your in flight meal choices are chicken, chicken and chicken. But, this evening we didn’t have chicken, we had Chili-Sweet Potato Hash with Fried Eggs and Fresh Tomato Salsa [recipe] which L threw together while I fed the little one. It took him about twenty minutes and it was actually surprisingly good. The fried egg was obviously not a wonderful addition for either of us, but the rest of the meal was very good. The hash was a welcome change of pace compared to what we normally eat. The breakfast sausage was fried with red onion and sliced sweet potatoes, and seasoned with chili, cumin, coriander, salt and pepper, and garnished with parsley and cheese. The hash was topped with the fried egg and accompanied by a salsa made with tomatoes, jalapeno, red onion, cilantro, lime juice and a little salt and pepper. The recipe called for yellow tomatoes but we had to use red.
The meal was satisfying and tasty, and the sliced sweet potatoes went great with the spices. This was a meal we may well make for brunch one day, although probably without the egg, I’d guess. Tomorrow we will be making Spinach and Goat Cheese Chicken Rolls in a Pan Sauce to kick off our chicken extravaganza. Maybe I can just nibble on some baby toes instead, at least our kids are delicious.