Breakfast in bed…anyone?

I don’t know why, but I always thought that having a baby entailed spending every night wide awake trying to console the little insomniac and being a total messy-sleep-deprived-nutcase during the day. While your little one is peacefully sleeping, of course.

During my last month of pregnancy, I tried to prepare myself, physically and mentally to waking up at the wee hours (ok…maybe not so much physically, but more mentally!)and pictured myself getting ready to take the baby out for a walk at 6 am.

The problem is that anybody who knows me or who has ever met me, would simply dying laughing at the thought of mee? Waking up at what time? To take who out? Yeah…that’s how much I LOVE to sleep.

Luckily, I have to admit, I never had to deal with this, since my little one is usually out cold by 9 pm and doesn’t wink until 12 hours later. When he finally wakes up, he has a little breakfast, plays around for another hour or so and then is out cold again for his morning nappy. So basically, we are never out of the house before 2 or 3 in the afternoon.

DON’T GET ME WRONG...I’m loving it (and sorry for the little brag), but I feel like sleep wise my life hasn’t changed, thank God! There are the occasional cries in the middle of the night when he’s having those famous “night terrors” (what are those anyway? Is he crying because he’s dreaming of a little monkey swinging on top of his head? Or is it a giant cat, scaring the bejesus out of him?) or when he pooped his pants…but that’s about it.

Alright, great...now I officially jinx it and I will spend the rest of my life living like a zombie, with chronic dark circles under my eyes and hooked on crack cocaine.

Well…at least I'll be skinny!

Daily Cool Pill: For the occasional dark circles, due to a long night out, where you had waaay too many drinks and you ended up at that place…what’s the name of that bar that you like so much? Er…ooohh…sorry, that was my previous life!
I was saying…for those occasional dark circles, due to the stress of motherhood, try the Yves Saint Laurent Radiant Touch Concealer. It’s very light on your skin, without the cakey texture of a heavy concealer and brightens up your skin at the same time. I love it!

Gotta love a good bargain...

A man walks into a toy store to get a Barbie doll for his daughter’s birthday. So he asks the assistant: "How much is Barbie?"

"Well," she says, "we have Barbie Goes to the Gym for $19.95, Barbie Goes to the Ball for $19.95, Barbie Goes Shopping for $19.95, Barbie Goes to the Beach for $19.95, Barbie Goes Nightclubbing for $19.95, and Divorced Barbie for $265.00."

"Hey, hang on," the guy asks, "why is Divorced Barbie $265.00 when all the others are only $19.95?"

"Yeah, well, you see ... Divorced Barbie comes with Ken's house, Ken's car, Ken's boat, Ken's furniture….and Ken's best friend!

Honey, hold the baby while I puke some more

Today is not a good day. I feel really yucky…like, you know that bad-stomach-belly-pain-that-makes-you-believe-you-have-a-bug-or-the-flu-but-you-are-not-really-sure-so-you-blame-it-on-something-you-ate? Yes, that one!
No, no…calm down… I’m not pregnant. Unless, the invisible man took me in my sleep.
Naaaah, impossible!

Anyway…feeling really sluggish today and don’t have the energy to tell you all the good stuff I had in mind.
Gotta run to the bathroom…again. Yeah…I think you got the picture.

Sayonara!

The Daily Bite: Il Panino del Contadino

(The Farmer’s Sandwich)

I decided to post this recipe after reading one of my favorite food blog called: Il Cavoletto di Bruxelles.

Due to my recent obsession with food blogs, I wanted to share with you this very simple and incredibly tasty panino recipe.
The sweet flavor of the mortadella combined with the saltiness of the ricotta salata and the tanginess of the peppers make for the ultimate gourmand’s experience.

So here it goes:

In a small cup marinade some roasted red and yellow peppers that you can buy already prepared in a can (I like to make my own...but that's another story, or better, another recipe!). Cut them in thin slices and let them marinade in a little bit of extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper (I usually prefer black pepper, but you can also add red pepper flakes for the extra kick!). Add about 1 quarter cup of balsamic vinegar and let it sit for half an hour.

Cut 2 slices of Tuscan bread (or sourdough, if you prefer). Place some mortadella on the bottom, top it with a couple of slices of ricotta salata (salted ricotta). This is usually firmer then the regular fresh ricotta and I usually prefer the soft type (aged 6 months) to the harder one (aged 9 months).

If you are in the mood for a fresher and lighter taste, mozzarella can be used as well, instead of the ricotta.

Spread the peppers on top of the ricotta adding some of the vinegar and oil mixture.
You can either warm up your “beautiful creation” on the panini press or you can simply toast the bread in advance.

Bon appetito, Sigrid!
…..e famme sape’ se tte’ piaciuto!

Goldilocks vs. Mr. T

For quite a few weeks now, I have been contemplating the idea and suppressing the sudden desire of cutting my hair short.
I believe it has to do with the fact that summer is here or maybe because I can’t deal anymore with the pounding headaches due to Luca pulling on it…constantly.

The little dude is hooked on mama’s hair. So far right now it’s the best toy available on the market and he just won’t let it go. Somehow he always manages to get his little hands stuck on the most painful spots…like the nape of my neck or the temples (you know what I mean, those very sensitive areas that make your eyes fill with tears and your nose bleed).

The first thing that came to mind was obviously a Mohawk. Nothing crazy, rainbow colored or mullet-like.

Then, after the frightened look on my stylist’s face, I realized that short hair is not really for me and that I actually look like a mental patient ready to be locked up.
Now all I do, of course, is dream of little pixie haircuts, like the one Michelle Williams is sporting lately or really cool bleached blond bobs, a la Kate Bosworth.

My hair is really course, red and I have a lot of it. A few years ago, when I used to live in Japan (yeah…I used to be cool…remember?), I actually dared to dye my hair platinum blond. The result was catastrophic and, if that wasn’t enough, I decided to use a hair straightener on top of the bleach. Needless to say, my hair totally melted (in the real sense of the word!) and after begging and blathering (try to imagine me, talking Japanese in a broken English, with an Italian accent) in vain, my very talented Japanese hairdresser had no choice but to give me a sweet old Rod-Stewart-like-haircut. (I had a mullet…and you only wish I was joking!)

Yet, I must be a masochist, because that should’ve been enough to scar me for life and let my hair grow like a Rapunzel.
Unfortunately, knowing myself and being a very stubborn cookie, I will probably end up with a Mohawk. If that happens….you will be the first ones to know, share my pain and yes, admire my shameful photos!

DCP: Wigs, wigs, wigs! They exist for a reason…right??

Updates on previous post: Paris is back in jail, by the way.

Living la Vida Loca

So, after only 5 days in jail, today Paris Hilton was set free. Oh…I’m sorry, yes…house arrest. Big fucking deal, anyway!

Uhh…I guess it must be really hard to be confined in your own home when you live in a mansion. Probably she will have to organize her next 40 days so that she doesn’t get bored spending too much time in the same room.

Yes, she will have to make some executive decisions, like taking a bubble bath or a swim in the indoor pool without the risk of being electrocuted (by the bracelet!). Or nibbling on some more liver pate’ while shopping on line with her little doggy Tinkerbell (it's scary how I even know the name of it!).

Yeah…I guess I should give the girl some credit, after all, she did last 5 whole days.

Road Tripping

Since the day I became a “Legal Alien” of the United States of America, I always thought about getting my driver’s license. I know, I know… It sounds a bit retarded, but I used to have one, back in Italy which I obtained with a good dose of cheating and an old friend at the DMV. It really didn’t make a difference to me since Italians are well known to be really bad drivers anyway. Then I moved to London and I didn’t even dare to drive on the other side of the road, (it was hard enough trying not to kill anybody during my occasional errands in my own country!) so my poor license was stashed at the bottom of a drawer and eventually completely lost.

After I met my husband, we were both making fun of each other because neither of us had a proper driver’s license. He is the typical New Yorker who uses taxis, trains and the occasional bus around town and I pretty much like to walk everywhere.

Needless to say that since Luca came along, I have been dreaming about these beautiful long road trips we would take over the weekends (traffic? what traffic?...in my dreams there is no such a thing), while my husband is napping in the passenger seat, Luca is happily chewing on his stuffed cow, Floyd and Norah Jones is playing in the background.
I am behind the wheel (Oh Lord!), happily humming the sweet tunes and taking in the beautiful view of the countryside.

Yes, it’s because of this dream that every single week I pick up my little DMV book, ready to study for the test and inevitably…I get bored to death!
Then I start bitching and moaning to my husband on why we never drive anywhere and why HE doesn’t have a driver’s license and blah…blah and this is when he starts making fun of the way I drive the stroller.

Ok, I have to admit that my poor son, Luca, must have motion sickness every time I push him around in his Bugaboo. I am the kind of person who likes to multi-task. That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m good at it. I like to talk, eat my protein bar, touch up my lipgloss and occasionally paying attention to where I’m going. So after running over my husband’s feet a few times and crashed into a couple of trees…let’s just say he doesn’t really trust me as a driver.

At the end of the day, I guess we are just a couple of lazy people stuck on public transportation for the rest of our lives…or until we realize that with all the money we waste in taxis we could have own a Lamborghini.

DCP: Don’t be such a goofball like me and study for your license if you don’t have one!