I had a smug mommy moment last week. Forgive me – it happens to all of us. E had a pediatrician’s appointment, which I had scheduled at a time I knew was going to work well for me – the buses would get me there at the right time without having to push my gigantic double stroller through angry crowds of commuters. Everyone had slept well the night before, the kids got up at different times so I was able to easily dress and feed them without one of them sitting next to me crying angrily. I got out of the house with all appropriate water bottles, milk bottles and snack jars, as well as extra diapers and clothing I would need. I even had lots of time to make the bus, meaning I didn’t have to do my more-often-than-not frantic dash across the countryside to catch it so that by the time I got anywhere I was sweaty and breathing heavily and all together a typical harried mother of two. No, this time I was even well put together – makeup: on, hair: brushed, outfit: rather cute if I do say so myself. I thought at the time: Two kids? I got this.
In my defence, my next thought was: Enjoy it now, because you know it’s not going to last. In fact, it lasted until I got to the pediatrician’s office to discover the appointment was in fact the previous day. I had completely missed it. I just had to laugh, because what else do you do? I made an appointment for the next day (at a much less convenient time, I might add).
So the next day nobody slept well, everyone spent most of the morning screaming as I tried to tend to the two kids at the same time, ensuring that nobody was happy. There was no hair-brushing or make up putting on for me, and my cute outfit (which I wore a version of the next day)? Had mysterious muddy footprints across the chest that I didn’t notice until it was too late. I just barely made the bus, frantically dashing across the countryside to catch it. I arrived just in time, the typical harried mother of two, pushing my gigantic double stroller through angry commuters.
The good news is that E finally did get her checkup (she’s awesome) and was a total champion for her first vaccinations. X was a sweetie, very concerned she was hurt and trying to kiss her better (even as the shots were being administered). E slept for most of the rest of the day, and X played really nicely. So I guess the point of that story is that things aren’t done perfectly around here but they do get done.
Some things I have been rather proud of myself lately is some delicious meals I’ve been making. Here’s another amazing, easy one from my aunt that I have to share (Hi Matante Cecile! Hope you don’t mind me sharing your recipes!) Chicken Piccata, with a well-deserved glass of white wine after my doctor shenanigans.
Cecile’s Chicken Piccata
1 chicken breast, deboned and butterflied
2 tbsp all purpose white flour
2 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp butter
1 tbsp oil
1/3 cup chicken broth
3 1/2 tsp capers
1/2 tbsp Italian parsley, chopped
salt and pepper
Cut chicken breast in two and butterfly them into escalopes. Flatten and tenderize. Season with salt and pepper, flour and shake to eliminate the excess flour.
Heat oil and half of the butter in a large frying pan at medium-high heat, taking care not to burn it. Add escalopes when the oil mixture begins to sputter and cook about three minutes per side. Remove from frying pan into a plate, cover with aluminum foil and reserve in the oven.
Reduce heat to medium-low and add lemon juice, chicken stock and capers to the frying pan. Bring to a boil, scraping the bottom of the pan. Place chicken escalopes back into the pan and heat 3-4 minutes. Remove chicken from the pan and place onto the serving plate.
Add remaining butter into the frying pan and beat energetically. Pour sauce over the escalopes, finish with chopped parsley and serve.