A really hot meal

It started when we found some long lost cuts of tenderloin in the far reaches of the freezer. After days of macaroni and cheese, spaghetti, chicken fingers and hot dogs, this was a welcomed find. It took two days to thaw the pork in the refrigerator. On the second day, I got home from work with the kids before Jon and began my attempt at making a dinner for my family. It was going to be a healthy dinner. It was going to included vegetables and wasn't going to include macaroni and cheese.

Right before I got pregnant I was a vegetarian and lot of my adult cooking experience comes from that period, so pork is kind of a mystery to me. I know it has to be cooked to 160 degrees, but that's about it. After a quick internet search, I found that the easiest way to cook pork was to broil it. So that's what I did. I put the pork in the oven on an aluminum foil-lined baking sheet and placed it pretty close to the heating element as suggested by the web site.

There was just enough aluminum foil left over to cover the baking sheet.

It couldn't have been more than two minutes later when I smell the smoke. At that exact moment, the smoke detector went off confirming that there was, in fact, smoke coming out of the oven. I was in the kitchen with both Ryan and Sophia. Fortunately, Ryan was in his walker, so with one hand I pushed him out of the kitchen and put myself between Sophia and the oven. With the other hand, I opened the oven door and saw that there were flames coming off the edge of the aluminum foil. In an oddly calm panic, I pushed Sophia out of the kitchen and turned to grab the fire extinguisher. As I reached for the fire extinguisher, the exact opposite thing I thought was going to happen, happened: The flames died down and extinguished themselves.

After finally convincing the smoke detector that there was no fire and it could stop it's blasted beeping, I took a look at the remains of what was supposed to be our healthy, normal, family dinner. The pork was only slightly charred, but the foil was destroyed. There must have been some cardboard stuck to the aluminum foil, but I can't be certain. I didn't see any cardboard before I put it in the oven, but that's my best guess about what happened. The pork wasn't completely ruined, so I put what I could save in a Pyrex baking pan and baked the pork. After all that hoopla, we did have pork for dinner, but with macaroni and cheese.

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as part of a contest sponsored by the American Egg Board.

The greatest compliment

When my kids are screaming and crying in public, I can look around and see the faces of bystanders and know exactly what they're thinking. They don't need to say a word, I know, my kids are acting out and causing a scene. But when my kids are really well-behaved, it often means they are dropped off the radar and no one reacts to them. However, last night I was complimented on their good behavior -- twice.

As a woman, you may be complimented on a variety of things, "Nice shoes," "I love your hair," "Where did you get that bag?" all of these serve to make her feel good. But honestly, as good as I feel when I'm complimented on something like that, I swell with pride when I get a compliment about Sophia and Ryan. And nothing feels better than that.

Last night, my husband got done work early and met me at daycare to help pick up the kids and go out to dinner. It was a bold suggestion to go out at the end of the day because the odds that the kids would be tired and cranky were infinitely greater. Plus, it was high dinner time (between 5 and 6 p.m.) and usually when we go out to dinner we try to go early -- like 4 p.m. early -- because most restaurants are not busy then and if the kids are bad there are fewer diners to bother. But we really need to go food shopping and I didn't feel like scraping together leftovers for dinner so we went out anyway.

When we got to the restaurant, the hostess seated us at a table … in the center of the room. All eyes were on us as we settled into our seats. We were surrounded by couples who were expecting the worst, I could tell even the waiter was anxious about us. Right away he asked if we wanted drinks, so we ordered Sophia's meal with our drinks and asked him not to wait to bring it out with our meals. So applesauce and macaroni and cheese arrived promptly. It was fast enough that she didn't have time to get bored with coloring the kids' menu. Ryan sat in a highchair and I fed him his dinner while we waited for our meals.

Dinner went smoother than we could ever have imagined. Sophia was pleasant and didn't yell or scream to get out of the booster seat and Ryan didn't cry once. Midway through our meal, the couple sitting next to us got up to leave and the man came to our table and said we had beautiful children. "Your children are beautiful," he said. "Excuse me if I was staring, I can't believe how beautiful they are." OK, I'll admit it was a little creepy, but if they were screaming and crying, they most certainly wouldn't be beautiful. Besides, he is right, they are adorable.

An older couple was then seated at the newly empty table. As we were finishing our dinner and packing the leftovers, the gentleman looked at us and said, "Your children are so well-behaved."

You can't believe how proud -- and anxious -- I was at that very moment. With two compliments under our belt and an hour in the restaurant, I thought it was best to get out while we were ahead. The tide of good behavior can change quickly and I didn't want to risk the meltdown I was sure would happen if we stayed a minute longer.

We left without incident. After we put the kids in the car, my husband high-fived me. Yup, we rule, our kids were awesome and we couldn't have been happier.

The restaurant scene

After being stuck in the house and feeling sick last week, we decided to go out Saturday. No one was feeling 100 percent yet, but my husband and I were desperate to get out of the house. Between the sicknesses and the snow, we had a severe case of cabin fever. So we packed up the babies and my stepson and invited my aunt to meet us at a restaurant for an early dinner.

It started off very well. Sophia was well-behaved and actually eating and Ryan sat happily in his car seat, but this lasted for about 10 minutes.

Before our food even came to the table Ryan had enough of sitting in the car seat. I picked him up and he ate a little, but before long he was tired. He still wasn't feeling great and he was ready for another nap.

From the beginning, we've been very consistent that when Ryan is tired, we lay him down so he can fall asleep. We don't rock him to sleep and we don't feed him to sleep. Because of this, he's generally good at getting himself to sleep. (We're still working on getting him to fall back to sleep after waking in the middle of the night, but we're talking small victories here)

Anyway, in the restaurant, Ryan is tired and letting the entire restaurant know that he needs a nap. He doesn't want to be held, he won't take a bottle and he didn't want baby food. If we stood up with him and walked around he'd quiet for a bit and then start screaming again.

He wanted to lay down and go to sleep. Nothing else would soothe him.

When our food got to the table, one of us shoved some food in our mouths while the other held the baby. With the addition of my aunt and stepson, Sophia was kept occupied and my aunt helped hold Ryan. But this doesn't fly for very long out in public.

After about 10 minutes, I'm sweating, nervous and really ready to go home. I feel like we are making a scene. I just want to leave so that all the good people around us can eat in peace. I take the baby from my husband and stand up, knocking the car seat off the chair and onto the floor with a loud bang. A nice woman at a table next to us ran over to help pick up the car seat.

Now I know we're making a scene and it's time to go.

But we still have to pack up the kids and pay the bill, so my husband puts Ryan's jacket on and takes him outside. At this point, Ryan is screaming uncontrollably as the hostess seats a nice family on either side of our table.

With Ryan outside I can think. I look up and see Sophia standing up in the high chair trying to climb out.

Like lightening, we put on Sophia's coat, grab our stuff, pay the bill and race out the door. As soon as the car is on, Ryan stops crying.

If we were at home, we would have put Ryan in his crib and he would've fallen asleep and we would have had a peaceful dinner. So, we'll be eating in for now, until cabin fever sets in again and we forget how bad it really is to take the kids out to dinner.