Spinach Pesto Ravioli and Zucchini

The kid got his first bloody nose today.  We had met the husband for lunch.  I got a delicious panini and the husband got a massive Rueben sandwich.  He has never gotten anything else at that particular restaurant--he loves a good Rueben.  It started out so nicely.  We decided to eat outside as the weather hasn't been excruciatingly hot lately, just very hot.  I had brought a butternut squash and cheese sandwich and some steamed carrots for the kid.  But, mostly when we are out he gets too distracted to eat.  

Well, he took a nice little tumble face first onto the concrete while trying to get off his chair.  He cried for a good 10-15 minutes and wouldn't eat much after that.  His beautiful nose is red and bruised and it looks like he got in a massive fist fight.  On top of that his canines are still trying to push their way through, so he's been a pretty miserable baby lately. 

Chicken Ashley

I discovered my love for cooking quite early in life.  One of my earliest memories is of my parents anniversary.  I proudly presented them with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cake--my own creation.  In my mind it was a exquisite layer cake, expertly pieced together and decorated with swirls of peanut butter and grape jelly.  

But...as I was only 3 or 4 at the time, I'm guessing my memory might be tainted.  I can only imagine what a mess I left in the kitchen.

As a teenager I started making meals for my family once or twice a week.  I would browse the cookbooks in my moms arsenal and narrow it down to something that looked delicious.  I even experimented creating my own recipes.  Fortunately for my mother, at that age I was old enough to clean up after myself, and I like to think the outcomes were tastier.