I took Shop instead of Home Ec

In the spirit of Mariah Carey's latest album, E=MC² (it stands for Emancipation = Mariah Carey 2), and to honor the proud Seattle tradition of appropriating a common three-letter acronym to mean something else (PSA = Pine Street Annex, obviously), I've decided to embrace the title "WmD". It means "Wenmei, Domesticated". That's me, the domestic diva.

Hah! Anyone who knows me well is probably rolling on the floor laughing right now. Although I have my moments of domesticity (like when I went on a hat-knitting frenzy two winters ago and knitted a hat a day for several weeks), I'm not exactly known for my flare on the home front. Instead, I've been known to eat the same meal every night for a month (could be noodles, or avocado & cucumber sandwiches, or a bowl of Cheerios), and our refrigerator tends to be stocked with beer and yogurt rather than actual food.

But now that I'm cooking for Zachary (I've read way too many books like "The Omnivore's Dilemma" and therefore will not allow anything that has the slightest possibility of being processed or of containing non-organic ingredients pass through the lips of my precious baby boy), I've started cooking for us as well. Although I'm not as picky about organic for us, considering how much it costs and the fact that we are now living on a single salary.

I wish I had "before" pictures of our refrigerator. To give you an idea, when you opened the door you could hear crickets chirping. And you could watch them sip beer and lick up yogurt in the vast, nearly empty tundra. But look now! There's food in there! And not a single box of take-out! Instead, there are bowls of various homemade dishes, as well as actual staples like eggs and milk!

OK, this might not be that impressive to you, but you didn't see the refrigerator before.

I'm including a couple pictures of our kitchen as well, giving further proof of this new WmD. There are not one, but two pots cooking merrily away on the stove, fresh fruits and veggies on the counters, and did you notice the plate of homemade red velvet cupcakes? And I'm adding a picture of the peaches I blanched for Zachary's food, just because they are pretty.



And yes, I do recognize the incongruity of the fact that I insist on organic homemade foods for Zachary even though he spends the vast majority of his day sticking things such as Chris' phone, my slipper, and Cowboy's tail in his mouth.