Bootlegger in Paradise

Had dinner with our lovely team of besties tonight - Sky, Jocelyn, Dave, Jenn, and the newly added, Mickey - who is excellent and makes Jenn, despite herself, blissfully happy. I rounded up some killer new pasta recipes from Cook's Illustrated that had everyone in so much pleasure they were practically blushing - and I must emphasize yet again, this has nothing to do with my cooking abilities but the sheer genius of Cook's Illustrated.

Pasta #1 was my first foray into my much maligned fennel root: Italian Sausage and Fennel Pasta with Pine Nuts, Basil, and Garlic. This was a heavenly pairing with a robust Brunello that Sky kindly toted along. Pasta #2 was a trustworthy Asparagus and Pancetta (or Angel Bacon as my husband so lovingly refers to it) Pasta with Capers and Caramelized Red Onions.

The munchkin bounced around, flirting and socializing into the wee hours until she finally collapsed into her daddy's arms and declared "night night, ready, please, yeah." Could she be any more spectacularly communicative? So long as you are with translator (i.e. mom and dad) the answer here is no. She continues to astound me with her clear concept of the things she wants and needs and how she believes they should be executed. I took her upstairs, jammy-ed her, and read the two new requisite dinosaur books with which we begin and end every day religiously. Upon completion, I turned out the light, she snuggled into my chest, and dozed until I placed her in her crib and she fell asleep within five minutes. She has subsequently been sleeping like a sloth on Ambien and I'm praying the trend lasts until at least 8 a.m. tomorrow.

Upon putting her to bed, I was able to relax and enjoy the company of my friends and fabulous husband but strangely enough, I find that the minute she's out of the room, I miss her terribly. Despite wishing for a break all day long, a home without Haley is scarcely a home at all. When I walk into my once stylish and meticulously tidy living room I remind myself of such revelations as I wouldn't trade a messy, dinosaur infested, Lego strewn home for a spotless house with designer furniture and decorum in a million years. This mess is ours and I wouldn't have it any other way.