Today I made catnip popsicles. I infused catnip from my herb garden for 20 minutes. Poured into popsicle molds with a tiny drop of orange juice and agave nectar. Norah won’t take straight catnip so I have to hide the taste.
I might make a few (without any oj or nectar) for Cedar to suck on. Catnip is reputed to help with teething. And teething is the preoccupation these days. And nights.
I thought this might be a nice treat before bed. Norah gets so wound up in the evenings when daddy comes home. Her body flails like a fish knocking over any object that isn’t nailed down. Catnip = mellow.
And speaking of knocking things down–
Norah is clumsy with her body these days. Full of cooped-up-winter energy. I won’t name everything she has dropped or spilled this morning. Just before I wrote this, she spilled a cup of milk. My first instinct was righteous indignation. You know, the exasperated mom voice. The drawn out “norahhhhh” with a trace of adult whine.
Then I remembered my own spills when I was a kid. Whenever I broke something (and later, when I got a speeding ticket or two), my parents reacted with patience and kindness. My memory of it is something of kinship. My mom saying something like “we all drop things sometimes” or “I got a speeding ticket once and…” It checked me today. As it has other days.
Thanks mom and dad for providing a pattern of grace and gentleness for this flailing-like-a-fish mama to follow.
Aren’t these the coolest popsicle molds? Norah’s great grandparents gave her these for Christmas. Adorable no-spill (very important) ring pops.