Party, party, party

So this blog is all about this "new" life, which is really just my reality now, as it's been five years since I started this deal. My everyday reality - must be thrilling, right?

Thrilling it is not, of course. That's why I don't post my every move on here.

But, there was a bit of excitement around these parts the other night in the form of a sleepover.

Now, to any non-parents reading this, that word may not elicit much of a reaction (except to wonder, perhaps, where we were sleeping over). To all parents reading this, I know how excited on my behalf you got when you read that word. And maybe a bit jealous. Because you know how very awesome that word can be. That kind of freedom, even fleeting, can be mind-blowing. Seriously.

Now before you go all hog wild and think that some crazy soul had all three beasties for a sleepover, you should know that this guy stayed behind with us:

When you have your first baby your life is so entirely rearranged that it bears almost no resemblance to your pre-baby life and it takes one heck of a lot of adjusting to get used to that fact and to the new world you're in.

That's why it's really crazy when, after you've had another kid or two (or more, I have to assume the trend continues), and your older kids take off somewhere (the somewhere isn't all that important, by the way, as long as it is elsewhere), and you're left with only the wee babe, you really, honestly feel very wonderfully free*.

So, to make the most of it, my husband and I decided to have a throw-back-to-the-old-days dinner. See, we both like to cook and we both like to eat. We still cook, but rarely do we do it the way we used to: open some wine and enjoy a glass or two while we leisurely cook together, chatting away, listening to great music, eating whenever dinner happens to be ready.

We still cook great food (well, I - happily - do most of the cooking while my husband hangs out with the kids he hasn't seen all day), but it's rarely a leisurely event, our musical accompaniment is often sung live (off-key with wildly inventive lyrics, but with incredible verve) and my husband and I rarely get a chance to have a really good chat in that time.

So, in honour of the momentous occasion, I decided to photographically document the event that dinner was (for us). That's another thing I was able to do with just one kid around - take pictures of dinner being made. Weird, mayhaps, but very fun.

Wanna come along for the ride?

First off, it was exciting to look forward to this:

A total splurge at about the same price as the gigantico bottles of wine we usually buy to get us through the week. I kid. About the getting through the week part. Mostly.

Okay, so here's the start of dinner:

That adorable little red thing? That never gets to make an appearance with the wee beasties around. Determined as we were to have our kids like spicy food, they just don't. We hold out hope that they will one day mature.

These came from our garden:

Note the large arm and, more importantly, that it is not my arm. This dinner is officially brought to you by the man on the end of that arm. Ya, he can cook and grow tomatoes in at least two different colours.

This is how they look all nicely diced up and hanging out with the onions and garlic and that little red guy:

Some peppers and basil (also from the garden) made their way in there and then things got saucy:

You're dying to know what's in there, aren't you?

Well, I'd like to introduce you to my good friend Mr. Porterhouse:

Don't get too attached. His story does not end well. For him.

Ready to go meet the grill:

Then this stuff came out and I was pretty happy because it's awesome:

Then this showed up and I might have drooled a little bit:

And, despite their utter cheesiness, I actually said these words: "Eat your heart out, Keg," because I'm really and truly a nerd and us people say things like that. Sadly.

Dinner, assembled, in all its glory:

Do you wish you had been here to have some? I kind of wish you were, because a thing so wonderful is meant to be shared. Oh wait, I shared it with my husband. Nevermi- oh, this is awkward...

Before:

And after:

Because all good meals end with a baby chillin' on the table, right?

*Note: I really do love my kids. All of them. No ifs, ands or buts. It's just that a short break - or, let's say, some therapeutic time apart - can really be just plain nice sometimes. That's all I'm going to say on it. If you're a parent, I know you get it. If you're not, just trust me, okay?