By Twenty-two weeks. Megan is solidly in the second trimester and the baby kicks constantly. At dinner. At midnight. During Jeopardy. The baby has opinions about Jeopardy — he kicks during Final Jeopardy, which Megan interprets as excitement and I interpret as confusion. Either way, he's engaged. He's a Kowalski. We engage.
The house projects continue. Tom installed a baby gate at the top of the stairs. The baby cannot walk. The baby cannot crawl. The baby has not been born. Tom installed a gate anyway. "Safety first," he said. He is not wrong, technically. He is wildly premature, practically. But Tom prepares. This is what Tom does. He wires houses before babies are born and installs gates before babies can walk and he will probably baby-proof the entire neighborhood by October.
Megan is nesting. Not just organizing — transforming. The nursery has been reorganized three times this month. The closet in the nursery now has tiny clothes organized by size (newborn, 0-3, 3-6, 6-9), and each size has sub-categories (sleep, play, going out). She applied her teacher organizational skills to baby logistics and the result is a closet that could be featured in a magazine about extremely organized parents.
Made a summer pasta — spaghetti with cherry tomatoes, basil, garlic, olive oil. The first tomatoes from the farmers market. Summer is coming. The baby is coming. Everything is coming. I stand at the stove and toss pasta and look out the window at the yard and the evening light and I think, in four months, there will be a person in this house who calls me Dad. Dad. The word is enormous. The word is mine.
The pasta came together fast that evening — it always does when the tomatoes are good — and I found myself with extra time and a half a watermelon sitting on the counter that Megan had picked up at the farmers market on a whim. This salad was the result: five minutes of cutting, a handful of baby spinach, some crumbled feta, fresh mint, and a quick lime dressing that somehow tasted like everything I was feeling standing at that window. Summer on a plate. Simple enough to make while your mind is somewhere else entirely — somewhere four months ahead, somewhere enormous.
Watermelon and Spinach Salad
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 5 cups baby spinach, loosely packed
- 3 cups seedless watermelon, cut into 1-inch cubes
- 1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
- 1/4 cup fresh mint leaves, torn
- 1/4 small red onion, thinly sliced
- 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, lime juice, honey, salt, and pepper until combined. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
- Prep the salad base. Arrange the baby spinach on a large serving platter or in a wide salad bowl. Scatter the red onion slices evenly over the top.
- Add the watermelon. Distribute the watermelon cubes across the spinach. Try to keep them in a single loose layer so every bite has a chance at getting some.
- Finish and dress. Scatter the crumbled feta and torn mint leaves over the salad. Drizzle the dressing evenly over everything just before serving — don’t toss, just drizzle and let it settle.
- Serve immediately. This salad is best eaten right away while the spinach is crisp and the watermelon is cold. It does not hold well once dressed.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 165 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 13g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 290mg