One Good Night

There are good nights and bad nights around here. Last night (well, technically I guess that tonight is now "last night" as I'm after 1 am....thanks to my early evening nap) was a bad night. Dinner ended with Max in tears after my "winning" our power struggle over his eating dinner with constant complaining about what we were eating and having to be cajoled (ok, threatened) into every bite. Well, maybe to me it was a power struggle, but maybe he was just a poor little boy who really didn't like what we were having and felt the need to accompany each forced bite with a thumbs down. To which I responded with a time limit in which he finish eating, but he didn't make it and so was sent to bed then and there (because I'm a parent that follows through, dang it!) and he followed it with many tears and howls, but took himself straight upstairs.

I'm sure that I've got this whole food thing wrong. The thing is, I take food very seriously and I take what my kids eat seriously (well, what mom doesn't?) and I spend a lot of time actually making what I consider to be really good, whole food for us to eat. I don't mop my floor regularly and I don't do any kind of crafting, but I make dinner everynight....it's my thing. And I have always refused to make multiple meals to satisfy the possible variable tastes in the house and I refuse to let my children be picky eaters. (You will eat sweet potatoes--and a lot of them too!!) But, like anyone who goes to an extreme, there are definitely times when these philosophies get the best of me and everyone loses.

So last night I crawled into Max's dark room as he hid under the covers and I knelt by his bed to make my way at an apology and to help send him to bed thinking better of the world and our family than he was. I asked him if he would like to choose what we would eat for dinner the next night and then if it could be his job to help me make it. I knew it was a risk, for we might be eating boxed macaroni and cheese (since he's been begging me to buy it for months), but he surprised me and actually said that he wanted the sausage, barley and potato soup that I like making in winter (and eating it always makes me feel like I'm a character in a Thomas Hardy novel). It was a deal.

So tonight we worked together. He washed the vegatables and peeled the carrots, I chopped everything up, and he put it all in the pot, sauted it, and then added the broth to bring it to a boil. He was thrilled. He even happily and quickly worked on his homework (another usual and tiring session of keeping him on task) while the potatoes and barley were simmering their way to softness. Usually Olivia sets the table, but tonight Max did that too. He took the job very seriously declaring that he was not going to set out any kid-cup-and-bowl matches (a source of contention over who is lucky enough to get a match) and also saying that he would like his place to be next to mine tonight. He also buttered everyone's bread slices himself and passed them out. But I couldn't help but smile biggest when he called everyone to the table and then firmly told Olivia that there would be no fussing tonight because he was the chef (in only one of many references to himself as the chef). In fact, he told everyone that I just did the chopping and he made everything else--I was only the "sow" chef. Olivia had to correct him to say that he was actually the "sous-p" chef.

And then we ate in happiness. When Olivia stood up on her chair mid-meal to recite a poem she learned at school that day, and when Max copied her to stand on his chair and recite the poem only to use bigger and sillier actions, which made Isabel stand on her chair and act silly (because for all intents and purposes she thinks that she is 5 and 7), I didn't even stop them and bring on the usual lecture them about what is appropriate dinner behavior or how loud our table voices should be. And so we loudly talked and laughed and there were even some silly screams, and then we ate pineapple pieces for dessert without a fork but with our fingers. We had a night off and we needed it. And Max ate three helpings.

Olivia told me that she would like a turn to help make dinner with me next time, and I said ok and asked her what she would like to make: "Macaroni and cheese....but with peas."

Mind Grapes

The mind grapes are feeling a little bit all squeezed out these days. You know, something like when you're playing Sorry with your kids and you go to take a card for your turn and you pick up from the already-turned-over discard pile and then turn it (back) over to see "Sorry" written on the otherside (from the card's branding) but you happily yell out "SORRY!" to your son and proceed to knock one of his pieces off of the board until your husband's incessant laughing clues you in to what you've just done. Or, just the little things like showing up at your daughter's dance class at 10am this morning and when no one's there getting all irritated that no one called to tell you that the class had been canceled, but then realizing that the class actually starts at 11am--not that after 7 weeks you should be expected to know the right start time--and then when you return an hour later you realize that you have not brought any dance shoes in the first place. Or remembering that same day at 3:45 pm. that you had a 9:30am appointment with the midwife you totally spaced. Just a few for-examples, of course.

The thing is, even though Adam assures me that when I'm not pregnant that I'm usually one of the sharper knives in the drawer, for years I've actually been feeling like I've got the exactness of only a butter knife. I'm pretty sure that every time I bend down to pick up a toy off of the floor that a little bit of my brain drips out and is lost forever.

What's the deal with the candy?

Now that over the last several weeks I've managed to finish off most of the "good" candy out of my kids' candy bags, I've been thinking, is it just me or does it seem like the quality of Halloween candy passed out these days has significantly gone up? Back in my day, the days of walking to school by ourselves without a parent to sign us in our out, Halloween candy was little more than smarties, jolly ranchers, sweet tarts, pixie sticks, tootsie rolls, and those bubble gum pieces so hard that by the time you've softened it up enough to enjoyably chew, it's completely lost it's flavor. The snack-sized chocolate bar was so rare that the few we would get, my brother and sister and I have a post-trick-or-treating inventory in order to trade them with eachother and maximize their value. Or maybe it was just my neighborhood, for there were rumors that there were houses up in Oak Hills that would pass out full-sized candybars! Oh, the elusive Shangri-la! I never found it back then.

So what's changed? Because these days they're passing out full-sized bars at the ward trunk-or-treat and nary a house in the neighborhood is without a complete chocolate selection--from which they always offer two or three bars to take at once. There's enough chocolate in my kids' bags to keep me pilfering for weeks without them ever knowing that anything substantial is missing. Not that I'm complaining. Because that's the kind of mom that I really am.

Happy Birthday Jessica

Anyone who doesn't know my youngest sister

is really missing out.

I'm not sure I know a nicer person. Happy Birthday.

Happy Birthday Poppa!

About 6 or 7 years ago, I'm not sure exactly, my dad started keeping bees. To tell you the truth, I'm also not sure exactly how he got started in the whole thing either. I think that it had something to do with a my grandpa's very large garden, but then it expanded from there.

I think that the bees sort of surprised me and the siblings since he's not exactly a hobby guy....well, I take that back because it depends on how you look at it. He's doesn't keep sports stats, I wouldn't call him an avid reader, and he's really not one to tinker in the garage. But if you count stuff like having an extensive flag collection in order to display the appropriate state or national flag for every visitor to the house, or watching out on eBay for (or making friends with a local artist) in order to find interesting original art for my mom, or making the rounds on his scooter on a warm summer night to pass out chocolate icecream bars to the neighborhood kids outside playing, or offering his services, time, money and whatever other resource he has available to helping anyone who needs it, then he is a very big and actively-involved hobby guy.

But now he also keeps bees. In fact, if I have the story straight, he is a blue-ribbon bee keeper, winning at the State Fair (in the very first year they entered) and the County Fair (and after having filtered the honey with such technical equipment as two pairs of nylons). When we are in town to visit, the hives are actually a pretty exciting part of the backyard. We've watched Grandpa add on a "super" to the hives, climb up into more than one tree to collect a hive that's swarmed, and introduce a new hive to a new queen. Imagine how a full hive sounds--caged in a wire mesh box, waiting to meet its new queen--when it's sitting out on the kitchen counter. It's kind of cool and kind of creepy all at the same time. And in keeping with the kind of hobbyist he is, he doesn't collect the honey to sell (it's not an economically viable hobby anyway), but rather to share. And trust me when I say that the honey is deee-licious (ok, there was that one year when it tasted like weeds, but usually...). And every year when we get our couple 'o quarts for Christmas, I hoard it away to make it last the whole year, using it with only thick slices of the best homemade bread, or when I want to show off for neighbors coming over to dinner.

So today is my dad's birthday. Thanks, Dad, for always sharing your hobbies--honey and otherwise--with us. We've benefitted more than we probably know, but we want you to know that we're still completely grateful. We hope you have a great day--you deserve it.

Honestly,

Have you ever gone to your own blog hoping that there will be a new post, even though you know you haven't done one recently? oh....just me?


Well, until I can get around to a new post, here's a little slide that Adam made for me because he thinks that he's so funny.

Yes We Can

After taking the day to revel in the post-election coverage, I couldn't let the opportunity pass to say that I think that it's a good day for America.

"What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek; it is only the chance for us to make that change.
And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice. So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. . . . In this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people. " --President-elect Barack Obama, Chicago, November 4, 2008

Halloween Scare

We did have ourselves a little Halloween scare this year. Our cat never came home that night and then didn't show up again in the morning either. We had been out checking in the yard and the car (his last "lost" spot) and any other remotely likely place, but no luck.

I kept thinking that most likely he just went following one of the, like, five trick-or-treaters that came to our door--since he loves to follow people, like when we go on walks or to the bus stop--and that certainly one of those nasty boys that I had so generously given more than one piece of candy to had then stuffed our poor little baby kitten in a mailbox where he was surely suffocating to death. I didn't sleep well.

So Max made this very informative flier (ready for copying, he told me) that we could put around the neighborhood in order to find the cat.

It says "My Cat" and then our phone number (which I blocked out for this photo) at the bottom

Well, we didn't find him until the next afternoon and it turns out that he had wandered over to our (relatively) new elderly neighbor's house (who didn't know that we had a new cat) and that she had felt sorry for him thinking he was homeless and cold and hungry and had taken him in. So he was fine....but no doubt I've been pampering him ever since just in case he has any ideas that the neighbor's plush carpet and life indoors is better than the stone-cold porch room that I've previously relegated him to. I can has naps together.

Halloween 2008

Another Halloween done. I have a sort of love/hate relationship with Halloween (and actually maybe all holidays, come to think of it). In some ways I hate it because I keep thinking that I should be doing more...making better costumes, decorating my house more creatively, etc., and then I just never do. Basically, my only decorations are two plain black, simple wooden cats that I painted at some craft night in college (about the extent of my crafting ability), and a tin jack-o-lantern bucket that a neighbor in Berkeley gave me. Oh, yeah, and last year I picked up a "Happy Halloween" sign on clearance for $1 from World Market that I strung up across our doorway--so I'm improving, I guess.

And when it comes to costumes, my basic MO is: what can I talk my kids into that can come from either a hand-me-down in the dress-up box or something that I can pilfer off a neighbor with much more creativity. It doesn't exactly help that Max absolutely hates dressing up. Really hates it. I am really not exaggerating this, and it's been this way for his entire life. Have you known a child that refused to even wear a fireman's helmet or Superman cape? But Max will always refuse. This year he told me that he wanted to dress up just as a regular person. I told him: that costume=no candy. So this year Adam came up with a costume idea for him that was as close to that as we could get.

But back to me.....I always want to do more and keep thinking that it would be so much more fun if I did, but I just never do. This is approximately how it goes down for every holiday. Good intentions never realized. (Hey, remember that one for my tombstone someday!)

However, Halloween is awesome!--at least in our neighborhood. We don't get too many knocks at our door itself because we're on a dead end that's kind-of off of the main drag, but the more main streets are like a parade. Plenty of kids out in costume. The houses are decorated, and some with live "scare shows" on the lawn. Some neighbors havelittle bonfires at the top of their driveway and are passing out hot dogs, hot chocolate and hot cider. The adults are strolling the streets with drinks (and pulling coolers with more drinks). And every year, one of the families has hosted a pre-trick-or-treating pizza party as a neighborhood get together. Gee, I just love the suburbs!

So anyway, this year the guys were:
Max as Johnny Appleseed


Olivia as a "nice witch"

and Isabel baring her claws as a lion (in the obligatory costume that both the older guys wore when they were two...poor girl--her mom has no creativity).

Isabel really figured out what was going on this year. While Adam took the bigger kids around the whole neighborhood, I took her to only the nearby houses and she had no problem ringing doorbells, saying trick-or-treat, and then taking two or three pieces of candy when offered. Thank goodness for that too, because I'm counting on her stash for future raiding.