I had a really nice Valentine's Day, thank you for not asking, but allowing me to pretend that you did. We're all organic and conversational up in this bitch!

For the first time in years, I was thoroughly pleased with my own gift-and-card-related offerings for Jason: 

Geeky Han-and-Leia bracelets from Spiffing Jewelry.

Super-highly-mature card from Wit and Whistle.

Usually I get completely out-gifted by my thoughtful, creative husband while I'm like: Here's a sweater? It's red? I bought you some chocolates but I ated them? 

Not that Jason did too shabbily himself, or anything. But he's an established pro at Valentine's Day -- gifts! flowers! candy! pampering! home-cooked gourmet meals and champagne! -- so I'm usually just happy to not suck too badly at it. 

Since the babysitter works on Tuesdays, we played hooky had a lunch date together at a restaurant nearby, a place we've gone several times with ALL OF THE CHILDREN in tow, and the hostess gave us a suspicious side-eye when she sat us, like "aren't you the ones wot show up with all them kids usually? where's your baby? oh dear God, did you leave him in the car?"

Then we both went to the Valentine's Day party at Noah's school, which thrilled him to no end, because NOW I CAN SHOW YOU OUR MEALWORM FARM, MOMMY. 

OH WOW, BUDDY, THAT'S SO COOL.

(Shudders.)

After that, we came home and basically counted the hours until bedtime, so we could enjoy a fancy grown-up dinner in peace. (And you know, rrrrroooomance.) We were almost home free by 7:30, because everyone was already acting so tired, so I corralled the boys upstairs and oh yeah, that's when the giant fucking squirrel got inside the house and holed up in the living room for awhile.

WAIT WHAT. 

I was rocking Ike to sleep when I heard Jason yelling -- and I mean YELLING -- a string of oh my Gods! and Ceiba! Ceiba! Ceeeeeeiiiiiiiibas!

I could tell he was trying really hard not to let a string of f-bombs loose too (FUHcrap! WHATTHEFUHHHreak!), what with the children still being awake and busy brushing their teeth, and I tried to figure out what in the hell he caught Ceiba doing that would warrant such an outburst -- actively taking a crap on the couch? Climbing in the fridge and helping herself to our creme brulee? Sneaking a cigarette? Doing DRUGS? WHAT?

I was completely stuck in that I Must Remain Hushed And Zen Despite All Hell Apparently Breaking Loose Downstairs spot, since Ike was alllllmost asleep and if I dared raise my voice to find out what was going on, I knew he'd jerk fully awake and be all, "Welp, that took the edge off! Let's party!" for the next five hours. So I kept my mouth shut and assumed that whatever it was, it had to be something Jason could handle. Plus, I still feel like he owes me a little bit for daring to be on a business trip right at the exact moment the oven decided to catch on goddamn fire. 

Jason appeared at the nursery door about 15 minutes later. He looked like he could use a drink or seven.

"We are never," he said quietly, so not to startle the baby, "EVER. Leaving trash out on the back deck again."

My mind flashed back to the morning of the shredded, scattered trash bag. Really? All that was over the dog getting into the trash? There couldn't possibly have been anything grosser in it than all the Disgusting Paper Towels of Horkgate Grossness that I had to clean up, unless, oh God, did Ceiba eat something dangerous? Is she...wait, no.

"I put the trash inside the recycling bin," I protested. It was a small bin, without a lid, but still too high for Ceiba to get into. "How did she get..."

"Not Ceiba," he said. "I picked up the bag and brought it inside so I could take it out front to the curb. And...a squirrel jumped out of it."

Not just any squirrel, apparently, but the biggest, fattest squirrel Jason had ever seen -- easily as big as our dumb little dog -- who had decided to take up permanent residence inside our trash bag. It took a flying leap out of a hole in the bag somewhere in the kitchen and took off into the house, eventually settling behind a bookcase in the living room. Ceiba (being dumb, little) ran after it, even though the thing could have probably bitten her head off, honey-badger style.

While I stayed upstairs, obliviously rocking Ike to dreamland, an epic struggle of Man, Squirrel, Pursedog and Broom had been going on without me. 

"I locked Ceiba in the bathroom and eventually chased it out the door with a broom," he informed me. "So it's gone now."

"Did you take a picture of it?" I asked, while shaking with silent, gasping laughter, as I am both 1) experienced when it comes to harmless yet spastic wildlife trapped in the house, and 2) an asshole.

No, he did not. I know! I'm disappointed too. That would have made it officially the best Valentine's Day ever. But I guess you'll just have to take my word for it that it was at least a pretty close second. 

Happy Valentine's Day, everybody! And good news! Thanks to the money-grubbing powers that be (AKA MY OWN SELF), I accidentally scheduled a sponsored post for today so y'all are spared having to read something goopy about my husband. Instead, we're going to talk about vegetables, thanks to Hidden Valley Ranch.

Vegetables are romantic, right?

(I know where your mind is going right now and I do not like it. I LOVE IT.)

Specifically, I'm supposed to talk about getting kids to eat their vegetables. LIKE I HAVE ANY IDEA. The only kid in my house who is currently not a jerk about consistently eating his vegetables is the baby. Because vegetables are pretty much the only food group he is aware of. 

I make all of Ike's food, and I...well, I make his food because I think it's fun. It's very easy and satisfying and it makes me happy to see my baby's face light up when he tastes something fresh and delicious and baby-birds his mouth for more, more, more. Plus, it's cool to have a baby who eats vegetables beyond the jarred green beans and carrots. There's only a short window before the Great Beige Food Phase, so I like making the most of it, while I can.

The variety in Ike's diet, however, is also owed to a certain older brother's tendency to grab random things in the supermarket and sneak them into our cart. So then it's like playing a game of Chopped at home, as I try to figure out what to do with celery root, kale, a pomegranate and two tomatillos. 

The good news is I can put that same big brother to work in the kitchen. My homemade baby food insanity is contagious, I guess, because Ezra absolutely LOVES helping me cook Baby Ike's Veggietabuls. 

First up, baby veggie stock (to cook stuff like rice, grains, lentils, etc.), adapted slightly from this cookbook. Peel a shallot (or leek, or some spring onions...something mild) and cut into pieces. 

Crack open a sweet potato like an egg. (Then, you know, peel and chop it like a sweet potato.) Use two for a more intense flavor, or if they're small. 

Add about six lightsabers' worth of asparagus.

Four cups of water. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer until the vegetables are soft. Mash and strain them. Refrigerate or freeze the stock; use the leftover veggies in a puree. The broth makes a nice drink option in a sippy cup, and will add extra flavor to bland baby cereals. Ezra also recommends adding pasta noodles or crackers to it for a big-kid lunch. 

Next up, roasted parsnips. Apologies for the blurry photo but OMG PLEASE DON'T PEEL YOUR THUMB OFF IN THE TWO SECONDS IT TAKES TO SNAP A PICTURE OMG.

Preheat oven to 400, arrange in baking dish.

Drizzle with olive oil and add some thyme or rosemary, if you want. Bake for 20 minutes, then puree in a food processor -- thinning with water or baby stock until it's the right consistency for your baby.

Don't forget to save some of the tiny extra-roasted end bits for your super-helpful assistant. They're the best part.

Finally, some old-fashioned basic steamed zucchini. All those springs and summers where I had more zucchini in my garden than I could ever possibly use? I just needed a Baby Ike, because that kid will eat a bushel a week, if I let him. 

But alas, it is winter, so I have no bumper crop out back. 

Luckily I have a REALLY good supermarket-sticker-remover at my disposal. The best place for the peeled-off stickers is your belly button, BTW.

Bring an inch of water to a boil, put (unpeeled) zucchini slices in steamer basket, allow your child to work at the stove because you are not a paranoid helicopter parent and he needs to learn to respect the heat and OMG IF YOU TOUCH THAT BURNER I WILL GROUND YOU FOR A MONTH OMG.

Steam for a few minutes until super-tender, then puree. Don't add any liquid to this one, but DEFINITELY let your preschooler man the food processor controls, because that's like, flying-a-rocket-ship-into-space level AWESOME.

Since we had all three batches going at once -- stock pot, steamer basket, oven -- we made everything here in a little over an hour. (After the zucchini steamed I added the rest of the asparagus to the pot and whipped that up, too.) Not too shabby.

I was going to make a mango puree for Ike as well, but decided Ezra deserved a little snack break. He ate the whole thing. This veggietabul business is no joke. 

Thanks so much to Hidden Valley Ranch for sponsoring this post, and to Ezra (who, despite SOME vegetable jerkiness, would admittedly eat a car tire if it was dipped in ranch dressing) for being so much fun to cook with. You're awesome, little chef-dude.  

This post is sponsored by Hidden Valley® Ranch. Discover how you can make vegetables delectable!