An ode to my rice cooker

Since I started my New Year in September, I’ve had about as much success as most people do with their New Year’s Resolutions… occasional glimpses of promise in between long, long periods of arse-kicking darkness.

Which is why I love my rice cooker.

I should back up a bit.

The Plan and the Rut

Here’s what’s supposed to happen in my mornings:

  1. Get up while it’s still dark
  2. Drink a cup of coffee, then go walk the dog
  3. Get back from walking the dog, go for a run
  4. Shower, shave, eat breakfast
  5. Help the kids get out the door to school as required

Here’s what actually happens most mornings

  1. Alarm goes off when it’s dark. Crack open eyes, realize it’s still dark and I’m not in high school any more, go back to bed.
  2. Wake up slightly later in the middle of a dream about the cheese selection at the grocery store.
  3. Stumble downstairs, hit the button on the Keurig.
  4. Fumble for sugar.
  5. Spill sugar on counter.
  6. Curse.
  7. Dump sugar mostly in coffee.
  8. Look for creamer in the fridge- it’s not there.
  9. Look for creamer in the garage fridge– not there either.
  10. Contemplate killing someone.
  11. Look for creamer again in fridge. Find it.
  12. Decide killing someone for leaving creamer in the fridge might be an over-reaction.
  13. Move dog out of the recliner.
  14. Sit in recliner inhaling dog farts and drinking coffee.
  15. Wonder what the dog had for dinner last night because his farts smell different.
  16. Check facebook page.
  17. Wish vainly for more followers.
  18. Drink second cup of coffee. Apologize to family for any death threats I may have uttered in the past half hour.
  19. Put on a hat and a jacket and take kids to school in my pajamas.
  20. Decide to go exercise at a nice leisurely hour of 9:30 or so.

As you can see, there is a little bit of divergence between the imagined state and the actual state.

In the absence of any external stimuli, like most single-celled organisms I tend to just sit around and eat, excrete, and reproduce. It’s not a bad way to go by any stretch. The problem is that I’m not actually an amoeba, I just play one on the Internet.

Next blog post: it's all in your semi-permeable membrane
Next blog post: it’s all in your semi-permeable membrane

Here’s where the rice cooker comes in.

Better living through oatmeal

Like most non-Asian people, I had no idea that I needed an electric rice cooker for many years. When we ate rice (which was not often) my mom just made it on the stove. The brilliance of a rice cooker, however, is the combination of controlled boiling and a delay timer. Paired with a crock pot, it makes for some truly delicious eating with no attention span required.

There is a little bit of biological research that suggests there really are early birds and night owls and it’s not just a matter of pure choice. I am at my most alert in the afternoon and evening. Now I set up the rice cooker to wait several hours and then start cooking the steel cut oats. This is a perfect set up for me because I can put the energy in when I have it the most (at night) and take advantage of the output at a time when I need it the most, which is when I am contemplating murder with a spoon because I can’t find the creamer.

spoon-murder

Little Improvements

Based on my success with oatmeal, I am going to try harder to do more things at night before I go to bed. I need to break out of my dog-fart laden routine and try things a little different. Since I’m always after the kids to focus on the good things, here’s a short list of what did get done:

  1. 9 blog posts
  2. 1.5 chapters finished on “The Book”
  3. 26.5 miles run
  4. Get inspired by oatmeal

Everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right?


I’d love to hear from you all about your goals and how you’re doing, or if you have any tips for automating your morning routine. Let’s commiserate together!

Soccer snack shaming

This Saturday, millions of Americans will sit on a grassy field in camp chairs and watch their young children enthusiastically ignore a soccer ball. American Youth Soccer is where families of all backgrounds get to watch their children get their collective arses handed to them by That Other Team that has a child from a Country That Takes Soccer Seriously.

One of the great traditions in American Youth Soccer is the apres-game snack. Like all things in our society today, the snack we bring makes a statement to all of the other parents about what kinds of parents we are pretending to be.

Choosing an appropriate snack is a highly complex calculation involving nut allergies, ratio of SUVs to Minivans on the team, multiple calls to Miss Cleo, and a soul-searching evaluation of how much you hate that mom who wears the triathlon gear LIKE IT’S HER FRICKIN JOB.

 

ci1p6

 

To help you navigate this potential minefield of social stigma Nostrikethat Industries has compiled a handy reference guide. Want to make a statement next Saturday?

Read on.

The Traditionalists

Sliced Oranges, the way God intended. It’s a food and a drink all in one, which is evidence of His Perfect Vision. If He had wanted us to have something different, He would not have given us the miracle of the High School Music Booster Fruit Sale.

The Warehouse Clubbers

Pre-sliced apples in the individually wrapped plastic packages and a 2 boxes of Capri-suns. The apple slices are a nod to healthy snacks, and the capri-suns come 4 boxes to a SKU so you can give two away and still have enough for lunches for a while. Alternately, substitute individually-wrapped mini blueberry muffin packages if you’re feeling saucy.

The Stopped On the Way to the Gamers

Big bag or box full of little potato chip bags and a case of Snapple. Look, they were in adjacent aisles and we left the van running in the bag pick up lane because after the morning we’ve had we’re cashing in some karma, okay?

The Trader Joes

Whatever the heck they’re calling granola bars and juice boxes this week (Trader José’s Montezuma Granola?), served from the Trader Joe’s reusable shopping bag because Trader Joe’s is the most amazing grocery store ever and way better than Whole Paycheck although we have to shop there sometimes because I like to buy quinoa in bulk. Trader Joes.

The Enlightened Followers of Food That Is Twice Half

Organic vegan nut-free flax muffins with fair trade coconut water, served on hemp napkins that were lovingly hand-selected on the family’s last eco-tour vacation to Guatemala. Namaste, y’all.

The Sugar Polizei

Hand-sliced carrots and raisins in a snack bag and mini water bottles. I care deeply about my family’s health, and as a result your children will learn a lesson today about politely saying thank you for the carrots. I hope we win today because no one has ever drowned their sorrows in raisins, either.

I heard it through the grapevine that your momma is laaaaame
I heard it through the grapevine that your momma is laaaaame

The Still Three Days to Paydayers

Pink lemonade in a pitcher and sketchy looking grapes. Look, this game is Saturday and we get paid again next Tuesday and I know what I should get but I had to choose between a haircut and new underwear this month so you get what I have in my pantry and the kids are just going to take marshmallows to school on Monday because we won’t have any grapes left but we have to keep up appearances because God help us if someone discovers we’re one of the 80% of Americans living paycheck to paycheck.

The Pixie Stick Partiers

Varies, but tends towards gatorade bottles and mini tins of pringles, occasionally with leftover Halloween candy thrown in if it’s late in the season. The kid who’s parents bring these is automatically the default game MVP, even as his parents themselves get the Stink Eye from every other parent in the tri-county area. Time may heal all wounds, but 210 grams of sugar at 11 AM turns that frown upside down in time for the 11:30 piano lesson.

AND REMEMBER–

We are so, so judging you. Choose wisely.

 


 

This post is dedicated to my mom friend Roger, who is a total Sugar Police.  Roger I know you’re reading this, love ya babe 😉

 

The Waggle Dance

It seemed like a simple enough homework problem: given a fixed position of flowers and two known positions of the sun, describe the waggle dance a bee would perform. I mean, bees can manage it, I would think us homo facebookus would be able to manage it, too.

two hours later, we were no closer to the solution. We had tried two dimensional drawings. we had tried three dimensional model layouts. We scaled up the problem to include a cast of actors:

  • My Lovely Daughter, performing the role of the Waggling Bee
  • Suckup Dog, performing the role of the flowers because he got some people food for dinner and was both fragrant and immobile
  • Yours truly, performing as the sun, moving across the sky and eventually out of the house in order to set properly
  • Eldest Son, in the role of Omniscient Observer Who Is Cranky And Stressed Out That He Can’t Play Minecraft Because He Has To Do This Stupid Bee Assignment And Everyone In The Class Was Going To Get It Right But Him
  • Mrs. Nostrikethat, representing herself, trying hard not to pee her pants

Even Wikipedia was of no particular help, in large part because the diagram had a Greek letter on it, and I didn’t know what that meant, and because Eldest Son was convinced that whatever I said was stupid.

I’m not making this stuff up, folks.