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.

Daily Drivel, Foodie Facts | 1 Comment »

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.

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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.

Daily Drivel, Present | No Comments »

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.]

Daily Drivel | 1 Comment »

Greetings from Idaho.  Wait!  I’m not in Idaho, at least physically - I’m sure part of me will always be there.  Rather, I’m in Oregon.  Snowed-in Oregon.  Oregon with 8+ inches of snow.  And now as I look out the sliding glass door, I see little rain drops falling from the sky.  Except that they hit the snow and bounce.  Yes, bounce.  Methinks they’re a bit more pellet-y in nature than just rain.  

Hubby’s folks flew in Friday, despite nasty weather in their hometown, despite snow in their layover city of Las Vegas (what’s up with that?!!), and despite a week of snow storms here.  They came down for a lovely dinner and then went back to Hubby’s sister’s house.  We had arrangements to connect with them in the following days, but then I kept clicking on the little Accuweather button at the bottom of my web browser (so addictive - like checking Facebook statuses - online crack), and things were looking a little bleak.  

I’m boycotting the news forcasts:  they’re all about peddling the fear and hysteria so people will be compelled to watch their newscasts longer.  Fox is the WORST.  Kinda like their fear-mongering news coverage, except with “dire snows!” and “overwhelming freezing rain” and “doom and pestilence to the ends of the earth!  more at 10″ predictions.  ABC is the most even-keeled of the coverage, with gentler weather predictions and news coverage of how Portland is rescuing all the little frozen kitties and rainbows.  

So, I’m really digging my online weather reports.  They don’t care if I come back to their site, so they don’t try to freak out folks with predictions.  So far, they’ve been really accurate (hence, *accu*weather).  When they said “snow, snow, snow, snow, freezing rain, freezing rain, snow, being adopted as the extension campus of Idaho”, I figured they meant business.  Which meant being at home.  Which is fine.  When I’m by myself.  However, Hubby had just come home saying, “Great news!  I actually got all the time off of work that I requested.”  Which means two weeks at home.  Two Weeks.  At Home.  With me.  And the boys.  Who haven’t gotten to go to school or the store or the library or church or participate in the greater collection of humanity for almost two weeks already due to colds and flu bugs (woo hoo for five days of yarfing Little A.  Only when he ate dairy.  Which, of course, is all he wanted to eat.  Tasty).  TWO WEEKS.

I realized, This is not going to work.

So I threw out some ideas, one of which entailed throwing a couple days worth of clothes, some food, some games, the all-important Wii-motes, and the dog into the car and high-tailing it over to his sister’s house to interact with relatives and participate in a little bit bigger part of humanity and continue to love each other from this day forward, in snow storms and in sunshine.  Fortunately he was up for it, the boys were up for it, and the extended family was up for it.  

It’s been good.  The boys have made their own ski resort, equipped with a flood light for night skiing.  The littlest people have learned how to share toys with each other.  Cookies have been baked, scarves have been knitted (I had free hands for the first time in forever - lovely), Wiigames have been played, football games have been watched, neighbor kids have come to play, little people have napped, little people have not napped, books have been read, conversations have been had, all in our isolated winter wonderland.

One of the best Christmas’s I recall took place in Idaho when I lived there the second time (Idaho, the Return).  My family flew out to visit, and we drove up with some family friends to another friends’ cabin in the mountains.  And there was SNOW.  So much snow.  We knew we weren’t going to go anywhere.  Games were played, yummy food was eaten, cross-country skiing was had:  it was great.  Later our friends left, and we sat around reading books and just talking.  Hot chocolate, fires, card games.  Nothing extravagant, but all quality.  We drove back to Boise on Christmas Day, ate lunch at a Shari’s (one of the few restaurants open), and watched one of the Lord of the Ring’s movies in the theatre - something we’d *never* done as a family.  Normally I cling to traditions:  it must be done just as we’ve done it years previously!  Church and carols and Christmas parties and dressing up and then dressing down and TRADITION.  And yet, that simple trip, full of simple activities, holds memories some of the times I’ve felt closest to my family during Christmas:  not caught up in all the rig-a-ma-role, but just being snowed in, chatting, being.  

The ice pellets are increasing, and I think we may be needing to do some laundry for an even more extended stay.  Although I enjoy being stuck in a house, there is also a small comfort knowing that Target is within walking, or cross-country skiing distance.  :)

Daily Drivel | 1 Comment »

JJ is such a funny boy.  Which we all know, as i have a blog basically dedicated to his funniness (or “spiritedness”, thank you early childhood development authors for changing the label from my original “driving me to hide all pointed objects . . . from both of ourselves”).  But the other day while wandering the isles at Mr. Meyer’s:

“Mama, mama, look!  It’s a pirate, just like Bob and Larry!”  Yeah, not so much.

I was feeling under the weather, and JJ told me:

“You go down and lay on couch and eat food and drink water, and I feel you lemon and take care of you, cause that’s nice!”

And because it is that time of year, JJ is getting to open a window a day from his Advent calendar (you know, the Advent calendar my mother-in-law sent last year but I forgot to give to him:  apparently the chocolate is okay, or JJ just doesn’t care).

“Mama, it’s time to open my number today on my Activity calendar!”  That would be a combination of Advent and Nativity. 

I really don’t know what to do with that boy, in so many respects.

It seems the last few times I’ve hung out with my dad, the question has popped up:  “So . . . (insert grandparently “I have all the answers, and even if I don’t, you still have to find the right one” look), what are you going to do for school for that boy?”

Dun dun dun DUNNNNNNNN.

To which I promptly melt, perfectionist that I am, and wail, “I DON”T KNOW!!  There is no good answer!!”  Because I’m melodramatic that way, too.  [Insert my no-bones flop, which I had perfected by the age of one.  That, and the tantrum fall-smack-dabb-on-the-floor-and-become-dead-weight-when-you-tell-me-no-but-only-sometimes-and-you'll-never-know-if-this-is-one-of-those-times-until-you-try-it-so-are-you-feeling-lucky?  What can I say?  I've got mooooves].

Sometimes I think about homeschooling JJ.  Yes, you did read that correctly.  Yes, I can hear the collective world wide web whipping their head about and saying, “Are you crazy?”  And after spending a morning and afternoon in which JJ did not.stop.talking., I asked my dad if he thought that was still a good idea, which originally he seemed to be inclined towards.  Now, methinks the inclination is leaning in another direction.

But see, if I did homeschool, I think there could be so many fun opportunities.  And I remember being So Bored at school:  finish a paper, and then wait.wait.wait.wait until everyone else caught up.  And, lately, I’m really enjoying the days I don’t have to leave my house (i.e. driving JJ to school, even though it’s just a 30 minute round trip, annoys me.  A lot.).

Sometimes I think about how dreamy it will be when he steps onto that school bus to be carted away to a wonderful, supportive environment with pleasant children and a nurturing teacher that helps each child reach their true potential.  And then I realize that I’m remembering a Star Trek episode that ended badly with that scenario, and the reality is that public school is, well, public, and I’m not in control, but boy howdy, you certainly learn the language of your culture quickly (I knew all the swear words by first grade, thank you, Ryan and Alex).

There’s always private Christian school.  But oh, the money.  And but oh, I remember friends who went a little “wonky” post-private Christian school, either diving off the deep end into scary places, or walling themselves up in the Evangelical Fortress of Solitude.

So the perfectionist in me melts down because there.is.no.right.answer.  And I’m not certain what to do with my funny little boy.  And I realize this whole parenting thing is some multiple choice but more fill in the blank or essay question.  [Obviously JJ's rocking the lit section, the Pirate Lit section :D].

JJ Jawings, Mama Musings | 5 Comments »

The turkey has been, and is being, consumed; the sales have been shopped (and found wanting); the games have been played; the holiday season is upon us.

It seems to be the Season of the Belly.

From piling food up on a plate, balancing precariously to the table so as not to let opposing flavors collide . . .

To thinking of cookies and candies and goodies that we make only once a year because they taste so good but are so much work (and oh, the powdered sugar) . . .

From belly laughs that come from getting yet another.stupid.and.obscure.baseball.question for the Writing/Lit/History/Religion major while playing Trivial Pursuit . . .

To groaning loudly in unison as the Tower of Goo .  . . carefully . . .. leans . . . one . … way . . . . and . . . . another . . . and . . . . tips . . . over after lots of carefully planned strategery . . ..

From belly giggles at remembering the poor swim instructor that probably still has two bare patches on his chest from where a certain six-year-old shared his thoughts on going into the swimming pool . . .

To squirmy feelings of “did I really act that way as a kid?” at remembering stories as only family members can remind you of (ugh:  adolescence) . . .

From being blessed at being so full . . . .

To wondering how this abundance should spill out to others . . . .

It seems like it’s a Belly Season.

Daily Drivel | 1 Comment »

Oooh, gadget.

Oooh, somebody else’s gadget.

Ooooh, chatty (really, Hubby is chatty.  Some of y’all know; most of the world, notsomuch.).

Ooooh, pacing while being chatty with somebody else’s gadget.

Let’s hope he also picks up the Hubby’s mad Iron Chef skills  (or at least ability to watch countless hours of Iron Chef.  Thanksgiving Showdown was Big Fun.)

Enjoy.

“Bahy.”  [Wave]

Little A Adventures, Random Remarks | 2 Comments »

“Mama, maybe we should do a prairie quest.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, a prairie quest.  It’s for things like owies, and sickness . . . ” (numbering off on his fingers)

“You mean a prayer request?”

“No, a prairie quest.  Like at school!  It’s for things like owies, and sickness . . .” (again, with the numbering).

“Oh, have you given a prairie quest?”

“Yes, for my cough.”

“And what happened?”

“It didn’t work.  I still cough.  But I can still give it again some other time!”

JJ Jawings, Random Remarks | 2 Comments »

At 6:35 this morning:

“Mama, there’s a noise in my room, and it’s clapping clapping like ’splat clap’ all the time and all over and everywhere and it’s loud clapping!” - The window was dripping water onto the frame.

Yesterday in the car:

“Mama, is O (friend from school) 5 yet?”  “Nope, her birthday isn’t until Monday.”  “Oh, well, she turn 5 and eat a cupcake.  And I turn 5 and eat a cupcake.  Is that a good idea?”  “Sure.”  “Okay, maybe tomorrow.”

This afternoon in the car:

“So, did you have a good time at Bible Study?”  “Yeah.”  “Did you play with Miss Lisa?”  “No.”  “Why not?”  “She in jail.”

Anytime JJ sees a male of African American descent:

“Wook, Mama, it’s Brock Bama!”

Anytime Abe coughs:

[Rushing over to put his hand on his chest]:  “It’s okay, Abe, it’s okay!  You awright.  You my big boy.”

Here’s why he needed to comfort the Little Man.  Thank heavens the Darth Vader infestation has left the bronchial tubes.

JJ Jawings, Random Remarks | No Comments »