Dren Notes

Once upon a time I posted pictures on this blog.  But lately it’s all been food this and recipe that.  Yeah, yeah, yeah:  I’ve been missing out on the good stuff.  As my kids get older, and able to read, I’m starting to be a bit more selective of what I put out there.  Because looking back, dang:  my donations to their “My Mom Exploited Me On the Internet for Laughs:  She Didn’t Even Get Any Adsense or Amazon Associates Revenue So Now I Need Years of Therapy” fund is getting quite hefty.

And I find that just as there is a time to laugh and a time to mourn, there is a time to photograph and a time to . . . not.  Perhaps it’s that life has found a comfortable rhythm that doesn’t seem all that photo-worthy.  Or perhaps I’m tired of trying to explain why I don’t want to share my camera (which mostly is not explanations, but a barking, repetitive “No.  No.  No.  No.”  Etc., etc., etc.

However, on the ol’ Powershot I found some images.  Scenes of preppy boys:

And flattering self-portraits:

And flattering brotherly portraits (seriously:  could use the term Block Head in this case):

And cousins sitting:

And scholarly exhausted boys:

And getting their weekly body treatment of yogurt, banana, and granola boys:

And boys with bonks:

And boys who comply:

And boys who don’t:

Fairly typical of life around here.

We also plan on eating, this week out of the critically-acclaimed, French cuisine-inspired staple of the Cordon Bleu curriculum C is for Cooking.

Monday:  Big Bird’s Banana & Berry Delicious Toast (which the kids actually thought was delicious.  I was shocked:  my brother and I would not have touched anything cream cheese-ish with a ten foot pole), cheddar cheese; Rosita’s Pita Pizzas (a resounding “Yum!” from the hubby), apples w/peanut butter; Tofu & Veggie Stir-Fry with Beth’s Peanut Sauce (Beth is not a Sesame Street character, but rather a friend from my former meal-cooping days.  I found a container of her peanut sauce in my freezer and did a dance of glee.  Really.  Ask my hubby), crackers, raisins.

Tuesday:  Cookie Monster’s Yummy Pancakes with Strawberry Sauce (I thawed some of my strawberries from last year:  heaven in a ziplock freezer bag), sausage; Cookie Monster’s Peanut Butter Sandwich with grated apples on cinnamon raisin bread, string cheese, carrots; Grover’s Egg Sausage Strata (which we were supposed to have tonight, but someone forgot to read the instructions beyond the ingredients to notice things like “refrigerate overnight or for at least four hours” until three hours before dinner), fruit salad

Wednesday:  Ernie’s Jelly Omelet (sounds yucky, but hey:  maybe Ernie can work his magic), Abby Cadabby’s Pumpkin Muffins (which we already made last week – huge hit); Rosita’s Turkey & Cheese Quesadillas, bananas w/ peanut butter, snap peas; Ernie’s Roast Lemon Chicken, Cookie Monster’s Stuffed Potatoes, garlic bread

Thursday:  Leftovers; PB & J, string cheese, crackers, raisins; Leftovers

Friday:  Ernie’s Breakfast Banana Split; Rosita’s Strawberry Mango Smoothie, cheese toast; Grover’s Little & Adorable Chicken Nuggets, garlic fries, peaches

Saturday:  Elmo’s Dutch Baby Pancakes with Buttery Apples (expecting this to fly really well with the Hubby), sausage; Oscar’s Egg Drop Soup (not expecting this to fly with the little ones, but it just sounded so good), crackers, applesauce;  Leftover Chicken & Leftover Peanut Sauce pizza, carrots, bananas

Sunday:  Leftovers; Leftovers; Zoe’s Easy Cheesy Waffles, apple chicken sausage, applesauce

As I was coupon clipping, recipe organizing, and grocery shopping on Sunday, I told the Hubby that this is a lot of work.  But I think it’s good work, which he affirmed in his laid-back way:  “Yeah, it’s good for me not to eat only pizza and Hot Pockets.”  Oh, that’s right:  I’m feeding people *beyond* the kids:  sometimes I forget that.  Which could also be why there aren’t so many pictures of people above four feet featured on this site.  Hmmm…

Last week was our first week of owning one car.  I.E. Can we be patient and kind enough to each other as we each have to stretch and rearrange our schedules and face our damned American entitlement to certain freedoms?

So far, the answer is yes, we can.

We’ve had fun, actually.  One morning the boys were up early (well, they’re always up early.  Abe has decided to set his internal alarm clock to no later than 9am.  EST.  Yeah.), so we bundled them up in their jammies as drove Hubby into work in the dark. They were so quiet, looking out the window at the cars driving by.

Another day we were scheduled to pick up Hubby after work.  Which was fairly amusing that morning when I was running around, getting children dressed, feeding animals, feeding children, working out, getting ready, gathering stuff for bible study and JJ’s school meaning taking lunches with us, etc.  I sat down, opened my Bible, spoon in hand to eat my Bob’s Red Mill High Fiber hot cereal with rice powder, chopped almonds, blueberries, cinnamon, and ground flax seed.  “So, what are you thinking about the car today?”  Really?  You want to talk about that right.now.?

I sigh, close my Bible, set down the spoon, and launch into a whole schpeel on how I think it’d be good to try living with one car for now, and look at saving up to get a little newer used car, and that the boys and I really weren’t that inconvenienced by it so far, and that there’s a few things we could take care of in the house once we get our tax return, and, and, and, and.  He watched me for a while, quite a while, before interjecting:  “But what I want to know is what are you thinking about the car today?”  I tilted my head, much like a confused puppy:  “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”

“What.Are.We.Going.To.Do.With.The.Explorer.Today.?”

“Oh, I’m dropping you off at work and picking you up at 5.”  Picked up my spoon, opened my Bible, and ate.

That evening I had scheduled to make a quiche:  mmm, love me some eggy, cheesy goodness.  But I got tired. And I thought:  “Hey!  We’re doing pretty good with our one-car experiment!  We’ve saved some money!”  My automatic thought:  so let’s go spend some (such a good little transplanted Southern girl).  I piled the melting-down kids in the car and drove to Wendy’s.  Ordered six items off of the value menu:  two chicken nuggets (which are now 1.29 – so much for the dollar menu), two fries, two jr. bacon cheeseburgers.  This fed three very happy boys.  Sitting in the silence of dinner, noting that I wasn’t hearing any “yuck!”s or having to give Abe the Hairy Eyeball for dropping his food as an offering for the dog or asking anyone to sit up, sit still, take a bite, now’s not the time to talk about playing Innianna Jones on the Wii, I wondered how long it would take me to hear something, which was said literally ten seconds later:  “Mama, this is the best dinner EVER.”

Thanks.  Thanks, son.  So Dave Thomas, my son would like to thank you for the best dinner ever, with all your transfats and preservatives.  Now I know how my mama felt when in high school we’d badger my folks into getting Wendy’s instead of “making” mom slave over the stove.  But six bucks for one night of no cajoling or whining but rather happy faces and yummy noises:  I can deal with that.

I’ve already deviated from this week’s menu plan due to a) aforementioned eastern standard time children and b) using up last week’s leftovers.

When I had Abe, I was gifted many wonderful, thoughtful things.  But one friend really hit the mark:  Burt’s Bees baby bath products, something I can’t remember for JJ, and The Best of Cooking Light cookbook for me.  Seriously:  does she know me or what?  So, this week’s menu is planned out of this cookbook.

Monday:  Cheese eggs, apples, buttermilk biscuits; Monte Cristo sandwiches (turned into waffle pb’n'j), bananas; Greek Style Shrimp Scampi, Greek salad, garlic bread, applesauce.

Tuesday:  Strawberry orange muffins (turned into Banana Split Surprises due to the early rise and the begging children); Chicken nuggets, garlic fries (turned into Waffle French Toast sticks – hmm:  perhaps I shouldn’t have doubled that waffle recipe Sunday night ); Cheese souffle w/Fresh Corn (but probably will be leftover scampi cause dang!  it was yummy!), green beans, bread

Wednesday:  Spicy pumpkin bread, cheese (which, now that I’ve opened a two pound package of, I’ve discovered that neither child likes Colby Jack.  One likes moz and chedder; one only likes cheddar.  Sigh), peaches; Quesadillas, salsa; Vegetable Lasagna, salad, bread

Thursday:  Leftovers; PB’n'J, apples, crackers, fruit snacks; Leftovers

Friday:  Buttermilk Pancakes w/sauteed apples, sausage; Homemade granola, yogurt; Chicago-style pizza, applesauce

Saturday:  Overnight French Toast Souffle, cheese; Leftovers; Fettuccine and Tofu with Finger-Lickin’ Peanut Sauce

Sunday:  Leftovers; Leftovers; Waffles with Two Berry Syrup, sausage

Sidenote:  so I was looking at the frozen pizza offerings at Freddies the other day to stock up for the Hubby.  I went to grab the standard Totinos Combination pizza box, missing the days when they used to cost 99 cents.  I used to get that and a two liter of Diet Coke all for 1.98:  well balanced meal – ah, the gut rot of college.  Now the standard price is 1.29.  Stinkin’ inflation.  But as I went to grab the box, I noticed something:  it was *considerably* smaller.  I picked up another flavor:  it was bigger.  They’re working on phasing out the bigger boxes.  So now not only do they cost more, but they’ve shrunk the box.  Now that *definitely* is against the American Constitution, I’m certain. 

Yes, to complete that sentance, it should end with “Ribs”.  But I don’t want ribs (uck:  thooey:  red meat phooey).  I just want my baby back.  The one with the dimples and the smiles and the sweet disposition.

And whatever model I currently have, I’m ready to send back to the manufacturers.  I want to downgrade!  I don’t want to be on the 3G network!

Right now he’s screaching in his crib.  Because he does not nap.  But he does wake up profoundly early so that when I’m trying to work out and have Me Time (I hear I’m entitled to that, but methinks I was misinformed), he gets to shove his learning table over to right.behind.me for me to trip on.  And for his brother to start laughing and then telling me stories, because he’s awake as well due to someone’s morning vocalizations.  I never knew just how irritated I could be when someone’s trying to talk to me at 6:25 while I’m walking away my pounds and trying to believe Lady Gaga & the Eurythmics who are telling me through my ear buds that everything will be okay if I just dance.

Abe screaches at me. Different from JJ, who just yelled at the world:  Oh, The Injustice of It All!  I must fling myself all about the room!  Abe is very deliberate:  Oh, The Injustice of You!  I must fling myself!  At YOU!  Over!  And Over!

Note:  he knows how to use childlocks.  As evidenced by my glasses lying on the bathroom floor.  Twisted so that one of the ear piece holdy things (can you tell I haven’t slept much? and have been yelled at a lot?) is now perpedicular.  True, they were some seven years old, and had lost a screw so they were held together by dental floss (three times stronger than regular string), but still, I would prefer to be the one to go Office Space on my eyewear.

And yet, he charms everyone in public.  Flirting.  Flashing the dimples.  Pretending to be shy.  Playing hide and seek.  He jumped into the arms of a friend while we were at the library, laid his head on her shoulder, and she had to walk us to the car because he wouldn’t let her put him down.  We are stopped Every.Time. at the store by someone exclaiming how cute he is.  And he looks at me.  And I look at him.  We both know the truth:  one shriek away from a box to Abu Dhabi.

So for right now I’m treating him as any person treats a Bad Cat (no, Aunt Faye, not by shaking my finger and saying, “Bad Cat” in a “firm” tone which leads the kittens to snicker or stare with the You Stupid Human Stare of Scorn).  Two words.

Squirt.

Bottle.

Or as JJ says, “Hey, Mama, why you have a gun?”

Last week I spoke of my planning:  planning for food, subversively planning to exercise, etc.   I was so excited that I even planned in advance!  Food:  taken care of.  Exercise:  plotting to do the Ouchie I Ache DVDs the day before I don’t have to be so actively parenting (i.e. Bible Study and the weekend) – the day before, because that’s how long the nasties take to set it.  So that way I think, “Hey!  Exercising is fun!  This doesn’t hurt!  I’m in GREAT shape!” as the achies snicker and then come and kick you in the butt – literally.

But then, on Sunday, as I was sitting in the kitchen, realizing the week was mostly mapped out:  I got tired.  “Hubby, I don’t think I wanna do this anymore.”  Yes, it only took me one week.

I’m still following the planning.  We’ve been on top of the food stuffs from this site:

• Monday:  Nest eggs and bananas; fruity chicken kabobs and carrots; South of the Border mac’n'cheese and salad
• Tuesday:  Toasty Os Granola and yogurt; Cheesy Beany roll ups and banana; Super Sloppy Joes and peaches and salad
• Wednesday:  Blueberry Banana Pancakes and cheese and bananas (redundant, but that’s what they dig); Grilled Turkey and Cheese and apples; Chicken and Sweet Potato Enchiladas and applesauce
• Thursday:  Leftovers; PB & J and apples; Leftovers
• Friday:  Pumpkin Chocolate Chip pancakes and eggs; Turkey & Cheese Rollups and apples; Cheeseburger pizza and peaches and salad
• Saturday:  Overnight eggs and cinnamon toast and raisins; Quick Quesadilla Pockets and banana; Pronto Pumpkin Soup and cheese toast and green beans
• Sunday:  Leftovers; Leftovers; Hearty Cornmeal Apple Waffles

The response, again, has been mixed, for everyone.  I’ve found JJ really likes have a cookbook that he can look at rather than the printed off recipes I like to look at.  So at the library I picked up a few cookbooks from the amazing Mollie Katzen of Moosewood fame and plan to plan around that.

What’s been helpful is to keep small goals in mind.  I listened to a podcast about organizing, and the organizing coach said to make six goals for a day:  three business, three personal.  Small, manageable, helps one feel accomplished, or at least if the list can’t pile up too high if I don’t get to them. 

One of my “business” goals was to use the book my mama loaned me:  Unplugged Play.  Playing with the kids seems like it should be obvious, but my Play Tote seems to be filled only with options such as reading books or cooking in the kitchen or “go, play with your toys or your brother or both!”   And somehow we’re all getting a little tired of that, delightful as it has been (kind of like those nine month pants of Abe’s that I just put into storage, not because they didn’t fit, but because I cannot handle seeing them one.more.day.).

So, my goal:  to use two activities out of the book this week.  Because I’m the over-achiever, of course I plotted out activities we could do each day for each age group.  And of course because I apply over-achieving to too many areas of my life, I haven’t done any of them this week.

Then came today.  Today with the children in more placid moods.  Today, which is after yesterday, which was a Hard Day for everyone, which should have required all of us sitting by ourselves to think of what was going on (as Teacher L advises), but looked more like some time with Innianna Jones and Mario for the adults.  Today, when I had a limited window to get dinner in the crockpot.

OR I could play with the kids.

We chose to play.  It wasn’t much:  an activity for Abe’s age consisting of balls, a garbage sack, rolling the balls into the garbage sack and cheering, or rolling the balls by the garbage sack and falling over groaning.  I know:  not much.  But they were so happy.  Abe has been following me around the house with the garbage sack and the balls.   JJ had a better day at school.  And he noticed I bought the Hubby some quality, healthy, all-natural and organic and local Totinos pizzas for dinner, to which he began the firm affirmation that this would be the best choice for dinner.

I think he has chosen wisely.

So I plan for some things in my life, not so much for others.

I planned to make this crockpot taco soup for Saturday dinner and this waffle recipe for Sunday dinner (which, I know, sounds like a weird combo to put in waffles, but it was soooooo good.  Jason and I used to have a favorite restaurant in Sherwood which served meat waffles:  the restaurant closed, but we’ll make sure their memory lives on).

I did not plan to have two children running around the house at 7:30pm with boundless energy as I was drifting off on the couch:  they wanted more planning; me, not so much.

I did plan on getting up, exercising, and taking a shower this morning.

I did not plan on noticing a puff of smoke in the bathroom, followed by a big BOOM as my hair dryer bit the dust.  The cord melted at the plug-in.  The only thing I can figure is that it twisted apart . . . or that I have bad electrical karma (as I retold the story of JJ almost burning down the house last year due to throwing a lamp in his hamper and then falling asleep for the night.  Oy.)

I did plan on making Toads in a Hole for breakfast and expecting a “difference of opinion” regarding how edible some people may find it.

I did not plan on, after having a request for a sprinkling of salt, for it to be consumed fully, followed by a banana, and a peanut butter and jam sandwich, and a handful of raisins.  The only thing that stopped the continuous consumption of food was the insistence that we were *not* going to live in our Super Mario World pajamas all day long and must, in fact, put on some real pants.  What a party pooper.

Leloo Dallas Multipass would say that was a couple of Bada Booms we had this morning:  some good, some other.  But what a way to start the week.

As I type this, both boys are asleep.

!!!!

I know!  And we didn’t even go anywhere or have any extraneous activities today!  Well, at least the little tykes didn’t, unless you call being forced to go outside in the cold to get some fresh air because THERE’S NO PRECIPITATION ENJOY IT!!! overly tiring.  Which they did.  Since they came in five minutes after being sent out.  No worries:  they were sent back outside to learn to endure. Just call us the Suburban Wilderness Training Facility.

So, my week of meal planning is coming to a close.  I would say it’s been fairly successful!  Foods were sampled and found wanting, which I expected, but many foods were wholy consumed.  None of the recipes were fairly complicated or time consuming.  JJ was able to watch or at least supervise on the counter (getting out “his” knife to chop up an onion:  takes a while with a butter knife, and it’s a bit of a squishy process that’s soon abandoned).  Abe was able to smear these foods in his hair and then fling them off of his tray just as easily as with the other foods.  We’ve had leftovers that have been eaten; we haven’t had to slog our way through too much of anything (nothing like two people trying to put away a lasagna:  oy, that’s a heavy week).  And I still like my kitchen!

I’ve even planned out food for next week:  gasp!

I’ve also implemented something else into my weekly regime:  exercise.  Yes, yes, I’m back on the Leslie Sansone wagon, walking away my pounds.  I’m finding I exercise more when it’s not my goal to exercise, as in “hmm, it’d be *nice* to exercise, but that’s not my goal this week.  My goal is meal planning:  everything else (exercise, implementing a cleaning schedule, intentionally parenting my children, etc.) is just icing on the cake – or the overnight coffeecake that I’m preparing tonight.  It’s not a “have to”:  it’s a “get to”.   I’m sure many of you wonder why things have to be so complicated; some of the people who live in my head wonder that as well.  If they ever learn to agree, it could be a fantastic, or fairly frightening, thing.

So:  two goals this week – meal planning, exercise.  One intentional, one kinda subversive.  Like exercise saying to meal planning, “Take that!  I’m a priority, too!  Thbththht!”  Poor, overlooked second child.

Like the poor second child in my house, who has learned to take his shrieking abilities to a new level.  Now With Ear Drum Shattering Abilities!  Able To Infuriate All Other Individuals In Seconds Flat!  All Without A Blink Of An Eye!  For Three Easy Payments Of A Tub of Cottage Cheese And A Banana!  Directions:  look at said creature with a hint of anything other than adoration, or have said creature come within touching distance of another short genetically-similiar creature, and the piercing sirens begin.  To turn off:  bark, “USE!YOUR!WORDS!” and expect a look of scorn that would impress an adolescent male, or flick the mouth, to which shrieking turns to sobbing and anguish.   Which is less deafening, but more Grandmother-sympathy-inducing.  Weigh your options carefully.

A brief moment of silence:  one child has returned to school, another child has a pacifier in mouth since he’s (I’m) not ready for a nap until the return of the other child, and Rick Steve’s show about Wales and Scotland is winding down.  Time for a breather.

When the family and I descended upon my parents, my mother asked me if I had any goals for the week.  My thoughts:  sketch out potential garden ideas for the summer; explore the realm of home organization.  I did neither.  Well, Mama sent me home with a gardening book, and I’ve been reading blogs about home organization and emergency preparedness.  But as with so many New Year’s resolutions, I find it hard to move from the prep stage to actually implementing anything. My life is kinda like a Food Network show with all the bowls prepped and stations ready, but lacking that Dynamic Personality to whirl them into something “oh so delicious and tasty!” (as JJ likes to comment about his bagel pizza with the cheese and pepperoni taken off.  Yes, that would be a spaghetti sauce bagel:  yum).  I think I get hung up on the whole Dynamic Personality to mix and create:  I’m looking for the Next Food Network Star, but in reality just need a short-order cook to come kick me into gear:  something’s gotta be better than nothing.

So I did move from planning to doing in one realm of my life:  meal planning (and I wonder why the food illustration came to me so readily? ).   JJ and I were gifted a Kids in the Kitchen cookbook at Christmas time.  Technically it came in *my* stocking, but I shelved it with the rest of the kids books in hopes that JJ would find some recipes he’d like to try that would expand his palate beyond bread and cheese . . . or just bread.  Of course, the first recipe he came upon that we tried was a candy cane parfait – not necessarily the odessey of flavor tasting I had in mind, but it was a start (short-order cook, short-order cook).

On Sunday night I realized I hadn’t been on a real grocery shopping trip in about three weeks.  The last time I forged to the store, I had to drive through ginormous snow potholes to find out that the store had no eggs, practically no bread, but an abundance of non-professional shoppers wandering the isles, particularly those who required the use of the really slow and really wide scooter grocery carts that cannot be easily passed.  It was not pretty.  So, having gotten past that experience (mostly), I started crafting a list of food stuffs.  Then I realized, hey:  I could actually be intentional about this.  I mean, some people plan out their meals every week!  And grocery shop to that!  And stick to it!  And actually know the answer to, “What are we having to eat?” beyond, “I dunno:  bread?”

I’ve tried to meal plan in the past, but my Next Food Network Star always gets in the way.  “Let’s make it ethnic!  From different countries each night!  And healthy!  And low-carb!  And from all these cookbooks!  With lots of ingredients!  That will only ever be used in this once dish, but now you have an entire bag full of corriander seeds that you’ll never ever use again!  And keep it within a budget!  And make it oh so pretty and appetizing!  And local!  And organic!  And under thirty minutes!  And . . .”  Finally, on Sunday night, I slammed the dressing room door on my little NFNPrimadona and let in Vinnie, the short-order cook.

Vinnie cooks from one cookbook a week:  less choices create less of a deer in the headlight situation.  This week, since it’s Vinnie’s first week and all, Vinnie is cooking from one children’s cookbook.  The recipes are simple; the children can participate; and Vinnie can get a lay of the land.   And Vinnie’s already thinking ahead, planning on using recipes from this site for the next week:  a little more variety, but still very kid-friendly, which also helps the kids get to know Vinnie and not throw food back in his face (which he minds less that the NFNS:  her feelings get hurt quite easily).  We want everyone to be friends:  please.

This week’s menu looks as such:

Breakfast

• French Toast Sticks
• Pancakes, cheese
• Jam Muffins, eggs
• Leftover breakfasts (it’s Bible Study morning:  only time to throw food down the hatch in between getting dressed at the breakfast table)
• Banana Split Surprise
• Overnight Coffee Cake
• Leftover breakfasts

Lunch

• Cheesy quesadillas, apples
• Bagel pizzas, carrots, raisins (missed out on the other stuff:  JJ had friends over.  Well, the big kids got pizzas, and the little kids got raisins, so it all evens out)
• Grilled cheese, pineapple
• PB & J, banana (lunch in the car on the way to school:  must be portable and known to be acceptable)
• Tortilla roll-ups, Cream Cheese Fruit spread with fruit
• English muffin pizzas, applesauce
• Leftovers

Dinner

• Fiesta Nachos, salad, bananas
• Spaghetti pie, applesauce, bread
• Baked mac’n'cheese, green beans
• Leftovers
• Chicken Bites, Baked Fries
• Chili (slow cooker, just cause I’m craving it), bread
• Waffles (potentially a Sunday-night tradition:  start the week off carb-happy)

It’s not totally well-rounded, but Vinnie learned a lot of chefing from his whole-grain relatives, and he’s making substitutions.  You would think it’s an easy transition to make for the little people, but when you wake up each day to PB&J, even something like French Toast Sticks can be hard to stomach.

I would let you know how we’re doing, except that Vinnie has inspired Abe to do his own chefing which consisted of throwing the full cat food bowl into the full cat water bowl, and I have a bit of washer-girl duty to put in:  sigh.

Tonight is our last night in the Valley of Roses.  We’ve been visiting my folks for the past week, and as all good locusts do, we’re leaving the place fairly barren or with everything in a “new and better” place.  Like the exercise rubberband now underneath my bed or the basket of fake flowers moved to the center of the bottom of the stairs, because that’s where toddlers, a.k.a.  home stagers, feel these objects would best reflect the values of the house.

Each morning after leisurely getting up, watching a little Curious George, eating breakfast, and having other people dress my children, my mama asks the same question, “What do you want to do today?”  Um, I’m not doing it already?  See, I rarely get the chance to sit.  To knit.  To play the DS.  To watch ICA Battle:  Suckling Pig (now that’s educational television for the kiddos).

Not to dress children.

Not to have to Power Grocery Shop.

Not to have to leave the house because my two arms and introverted, melancholy personality can’t meet all the needs of my extroverted, sanguine children.

Today Mama was very excited when I said that the Hubby and I were going out.  “Really?!!  You’re going out?  Stay out as long as you like!”  Since this is her house, I think she’s got a bit of the cabin fever, cause she gets to sit when she wants to:  the novelty’s worn off.

So what did the Hubby and I do?  Go to Cash and Carry to get DaVinci syrups for 3.88.  Get the cheapest gas in town at Freddies, using our gas mileage points we never get to use.  Peruse the end of Target’s rows for Clearance (got a double-set of pjs for JJ for 6.50, two shirts for Hubby for 9.00, a red dress for me for 9.50, for all those places I go to that require wearing a red dress, like Power Grocery Shopping).  Wander around Safeway looking for yummy sweet bread to go with our Breakfast for Dinner dinner (a standard around my home – mmm, Granddaddy’s cheese eggs).

Tonight we’ve watched Little A run around in nothing but a diaper, practicing his slide-to-home on the floor (oh, the sound).  JJ has played Lego Innianna Jones until his eyeballs are starting to look a little like blocks.  Now that the tykes have been bathed and deposited in their slumbering abodes, we’ll retire upstairs with some Paul Newman Organic Popcorn, put in Prince Caspian, and I’ll try not to fall asleep by knitting or playing the DS (must.always.multitask.).

Exciting, no.  But it’s what I want to do:  be with my family.  That’s all good.

Last night my husband and I knew the New Year had arrived when we heard the first firecracker.  We understood that the excitement grew as more noisemakers were used.  Then Hubby started differentiating between the noise of  shotguns versus the noise of handguns.  Once the giant “BOOM” of either dynamite or a semi-automatic was heard, we began to wonder if perhaps the End Times had arrived.

See, we’re up at my folks’ house, and in the Valley of Roses, people ring in the New Year by shooting off large amounts of firearms.  Which is a brand new experience for me.  Usually the largest noise I hear is the pop of a champagne bottle on TV or the closing of a door as folks say, “Okay.  We made it.  Happy New Year.  And good night.”  It seems ironic to ring in the start of something new with something that could keep you from experiencing it due to the fact that you might be DEAD.  But maybe it’s just me.

How does my family plan on celebrating the arrival of 2009 years of the world spinning post-Christ’s estimated entrance onto this orb?  By eating.  I’m sure that’s what Christ was doing, and Mary, too.  I can still remember the taste of that first bit of food post-JJ’s birth (a turkey sandwich – the best the hospital could come up with since he was born on a Sunday evening, and hospital kitchens are run like Mama’s kitchens:  Sunday night’s – you’re on your own.  But it was SO good).  And JJ nursed for 45 minutes straight.  So, a day full of grazing seems to be in order.

We’re also going to play.  Play with the kids’ toys  (Team GeoTrax, All Aboard!), play with the adult toys (goo balls, anyone?), play board games, play “sitting on the couch watching others throw a ball back and forth which constitutes as being productive, right?”.

One of my friends from high school used to have a theme word for her year.  It was a idea, concept, means of living that she either felt called towards or convicted of or was interested in exploring.  I’ve pondered doing that, but often find the word hanging out in that junk drawer/closet/room/garage with my New Year’s Resolutions and jeans I could wear pre-birthing days (sigh).   But this year I thought if I publically announced it that I might be more prone to actually following through with it, either because it takes multiple experiences to remember/learn (like learning a concept through hearing and writing vs. just writing) or because I’m tricking myself into having to follow through by public exposure (like verbal streaking:  flash!).

Many words have crossed my mind:  “mystery”, “intentional”, “gracious”, “sane”, “goo balls” . . . But the one that stuck this morning is “present”.  I wish to be present in my life, in my day-to-day moments.  Much of my time I spend reflecting back, either regretting or thinking how great things were, or thinking forward, trying to anticipate any and every possible outcome and how to respond.  But in all of those situations I’m not present in this very moment.

Jason and I have been watching the series Life on Hulu.  It’s fairly enjoyable:  quirky characters, not gory, keeps my interest for the 48+ minutes (which is hard to do these days:  I didn’t make it through Iron Man last night, but that also could have to do with my impressionable mind not being able to get past the Afghanistan scenes and how they were a little too real . . . ).  The main character is a cop who was wrongfully accused of a multiple-murder and spent 12 years in jail before the case was reopened and he was found innocent, so now he’s been paid a bajillion dollars in a settlement and has been moved up to being a detective.  While he was in jail, he read about Zen which is what got him through.  One episode he kept talking about being present in this very moment:

Charlie Crews: Every moment you spend wishing you were someplace else is a moment you can’t get back.

Dani Reese: What about every moment I spend wishing you were someplace else.

Charlie Crews: If would hurt my feelings if I thought you meant it.

This year I think I will try to be Present.  I’m sure I’ll be Past and Future as well, but maybe, just maybe, I can learn the trick to Just Be.  Like right now:  I’m going to be Present opening my annual cheeseball:  and it will be good.

Yes, you heard me right:  holiday *sloooooow*down.  Usually when I hear the word “holiday”, I think ramp-up, I think craziness, I think, “Oh, Heavens to Betsy, I’ll never get done everything that I have to do!  And oh, what more can I add to my list of incompleteness?!!”

But then came the snow.  And the snow.  And oh, the snow.

Then came the snowplows:  wait, they didn’t come.  So we haven’t left very much.

A lot of folks have mentioned how bummed they are at the amount of cancelled activities.  I actually enjoyed being homeward bound because, well, we couldn’t do anything!  We had to sit.  To relate.  To be.

Even driving in the car is more relational, with trips taking two to three times as long.  We’ve listened to the Catholic Kids Christmas program, the Car Talk Christmas pledge drive, and blasted the oft-repeated Womanizer (which JJ wonders if Teacher L will sing with him at school – great).  JJ has gasped while we hit potholes as Abe makes noises just so he can hear his voice warble as we bound, bound, bound, and rebound.

Travel is not easy, so folks actually being ready, willing, and able to commute becomes a gift in itself.  Meals have been simple, what with the store being out of eggs and butter.  No last minute trips for gifts:  what we’ve got is plenty good.  And Christmas packages arrived late, but hey:  at least they got here.  It’s truly the 12 days of Christmas!

Our Christmas Eve service was much smaller than usual:  the extended family couldn’t make it, so it was just us.  But as I looked around and saw so many others whom I know and love, I realized that our extended family really did make it, and I was so lucky to get to be with so many of them on my favorite day of the year.

The holidays aren’t over for us.  Family is still in town, and then we will leave town to visit, whaddya know, family.  Plans are being made, events are happening, some to which we can participate, some to which we can’t.  But some things will remain consistent:  books will be read, toys will be played with, video games will be enjoyed, food will be eaten, cookies will be baked, songs will be sung, conversations will be had, hugs will be shared, and we’ll continue to savor this gift we’ve been given.

[Yes, we do get cabin fever.  But then we also have this.

And a fairly empty garage.  Anybody's welcome to come over and hop for a while.]