Watermelon: the Ultimate Binge Food

It starts around December. You think about watermelon. Watermelon means summer. Summer means warm. You know what's not warm?

A polar vortex.

Suddenly you must have watermelon, for that means summer. But watermelon means summer because it is completely unavailable anytime but then, and so you spend the winter huddling under blankets and wishing it were watermelon season. Why, you wonder, did you not eat more watermelon last summer? Why did you take that valuable resource for granted??

Then the watermelon hits the stores. It is not actually summer yet, but since there is watermelon it might as well be summer. You hold out for a week, but then one day you walk to the grocery store and you simply must (must!) pick up a watermelon. Your choice is between a watermelon the size of two of your heads or a watermelon the size of three of your heads, but you have been waiting for watermelon all year so you pick the 3-head size.  You make your husband carry it home. It is then that he reminds you that he doesn't even really like watermelon.  "More for me!" you chirp.

That night you carve up one half, lovingly slurping up the juice and scraping every last bit of pink from the rind. Must not waste that previous watermelon!

The two-year-old is your enthusiastic watermelon binge partner. He is free from the winter tyranny of bananas and apples!  With juice running down his chin and both elbows, he gnaws all the way through the pink AND the white on each piece. Then you have to stop him before he swallows the rind.

The second day you eat watermelon at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You eat it in cubes. You eat it in slices. You blend it up and drink it as juice.

And that is when you start to remember why you didn't eat much watermelon last summer: because watermelon IS summer. And summer is perfectly wonderful for about a month, and then you wish for nothing more than a pumpkin spice latte and a good snowfall.

There is still half a watermelon, untouched, in your fridge.

On the third day it pours rain. It is NOT actually summer, it is NOT actually warm, and the watermelon is NOT actually refreshing. As the watermelon melts to water in your mouth, you feel just as water-logged on the inside as you are on the outside. You make 15 million bathroom trips due to the high water content (you might also be pregnant).

You have friends over and prepare a giant platter of watermelon. One of your friends comes with...a plate of watermelon. Everyone politely takes one slice (from HER plate!) - they too have been on watermelon binges.

As they walk out the door, you realize she has left her plate behind. "Wait! You forgot your watermelon!"

"Oh you keep it, we have plenty left at home." And she practically runs the rest of the way down the stairs before you can say anything more. You strongly suspect that when she reaches her car, she wipes her brow with an air of self-congratulatory relief.

So now you have more watermelon than before. You blend and freeze it in ice cube trays for future smoothies and mini-popsicles, but you have run out of freezer space and you still have two containers of watermelon in your fridge.

The 2-year-old still joins you in eating your watermelon, but he starts to hand his rinds back with lots of pink still on them. There was a time when you would salvage the remnants, but you turn a blind eye. And then the fateful moment: you offer him a slice of watermelon. He shakes his head no and utters one word:

Banana.

Finally, with a superhuman effort, you finish up the now-overripe and soupy watermelon from your fridge. You despise watermelon. You don't want any more watermelon (but you know what you could go for? Limeade.)

~~~

Two weeks later, you work up a sweat exercising. It's a warm, sunny day. You love summer!

And you know what sounds really good? Watermelon.

Maybe you'll pick one up on the way home.

Jelly Rolls

We got a very nice piece of mail from my SIL the other day, the very first one received by a certain member of our family.

It made me feel all warm and fuzzy and nest-y inside and I promptly started throwing things out left and right to make room for baby clothes.

John Steinbeck once wrote that “when a man says he does not want to speak of something he usually means he can think of nothing else.”  And that, my friends, is why I have approximately 49 blog post drafts and approximately 5 actual posts from the last five months. I had absolutely nothing to say about anything other than the one topic I wasn't ready to talk about.

Baby girl (affectionately known as "Jelly" in our house) is due mid-summer, and we are thrilled. So far, she has inherited two things from me: her pointy nose and a penchant for causing trouble. So. Much. Trouble. I have gone back and forth on posting about the last five months.  On one hand, we really have a lot to be thankful for, and I don't want to forget that. On the other hand, I don't want to focus unduly on past difficulties (and as of yesterday, they truly do all seem to be past!). I find that when I linger too long on them, I allow the cumulative stress to influence the present - but we only need grace to get through today, not grace to get through yesterday.

In the meantime, while I make up my mind (or at least try to find the right words), the Little Pants in our house is doing well and learning new tricks every day. He calls his baby sister "Elwie" but has absolutely no concept of what this "Elwie" figure is and why Mom and Dad keep talking about it.

This morning I walked into the kitchen while he was eating breakfast, and he said, "Heeey Sweetie!"  The other night I caught him slurping up the dregs of his tomato soup with a trick I can only assume he learned from one of the adults in our household.....

Meh. We have years ahead of us to work on table manners, right?