A Day in the Life of Little

Kids can suck the life right out of you. If they also sucked the fat out, at least I would be exhausted and skinny. But no such luck. Once upon a time, I was healthy, active, and upbeat. Now, a mere 13 years after I've had my children, I'm a crumpled shell of my former self.

You always hear folks saying about children, "I wish I could bottle their energy!" Ain't that the truth. And the more hyper, the more intense, the more 'spirited' those kids are ... the more rapidly they age you. I am old before my time. Both my girls stopped napping at 12 months. Not because I wanted them to! They just didn't need the sleep. My girls are energized bunnies, running on some internal power source that defies my ability to find the 'off' switch. Every hour those kids don't sleep, is one more gray hair on my head. I have a lot of gray hair.

At times as a parent you might think, "I can't wait to get through this stage." Like those early baby years - the sleepless nights, the endless diapers. But it doesn't last forever. Some of the most beautiful sounds you can hear are the toilet flushing and the sink water running … as your child outgrows diapers and moves forward into a new time of life. Every age and stage has both its challenges and its joys.

It's funny ... we used to call our younger daughter "Little" because she was just a peanut. And now we have friends with younger kids who call her the big kid. Life marches on. Sometimes it marches right over you.

When my kids were small, I did publicity for our local M.O.P.S. group (Mother's of Preschoolers.) I found an article I wrote in one of our newsletters about "Little" that still cracks me up. So I'd like to share it. It's a reminder that they do grow up fast. So try to enjoy your kids, even if they can make you a little crazy!  

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A Day in the Life of Little

We call her "Little." Little is our two year old daughter. The nickname indicates her diminutive size but does not describe the incredibly huge amounts of trouble she gets into. 

A typical day for Little will include:

• Trying to climb into the oven (thankfully cold) while my back is turned. "While my back is turned" can vary from 10 seconds to a minute, but no longer, because as our 8 year old commented, "When she's playing and we can hear her, it's fine. When it’s quiet, you better find her fast 'cause there's sure to be trouble."

• Stacking my glass spice jars 5 high while perched precariously on a shaky little plastic 4-drawer organizer jammed between the kitchen table and the kitchen counter.

• Having a party with the sugar bowl, after climbing on the above kitchen counter. Sometimes this includes making her way across the entire length of the counter and the sink to peek into the cupboards above the (thankfully cold) stove top.

• Commandeering "read: stealing" tea from my teacup. I haven't had a cup of tea to myself in months. Little has several tiny plastic play teacups in her arsenal. She will get one and dunk her cup into my ceramic tea cup. She's a precise child, always turns her cup so the rose pattern faces her and she can grasp the tiny handle on the right. Drinks her thimbleful of tea. Then she dips, and repeats. Dips. Repeats. I don’t believe the expression "tea for two" meant quite this. When Little has drunk her fill all that's left is backwash and a memory.

• Then there are the frequent escapes from the house. We have had to install deadbolts on certain doors to prevent our little Houdini from escaping unexpectedly. If the front door isn't latched tight with the extra lock fastened, she will pop out of the front door like a jack in the box. Whoever is closest will charge out after her and retrieve the wayward child. My favorite of her escape attempts was during a particularly severe nighttime rainstorm. There was of course no time to put on a coat (much less shoes) for the chase. Squishy, squinchy, squelchy socks.

• Little enjoys water play when she can get it (rainstorm or tub, it doesn't matter.) In between regular baths she likes to scale up the bathroom vanity, toes clinging to the drawer ledge to play with the water in the sink. Splashing happily away on the walls and the floor as well. Good way to get me to mop, I guess.

• Pantry raids are a favorite activity, too. If we are watching TV, Little will bring us all sodas. She will conveniently have her tiny teacup at the ready, waiting for us for serve her the coveted beverage. If we do not open the soda, she will raid the pantry again and bring more sodas. We call this the "take the hint" technique. This also applies to any snack food she can reach. Raid. Repeat. 

Then there's the whole potty training fiasco. I repressed the whole experience from my first daughter. Now I get to 'potty' all over again with the new kid on the block. I know that Little is ready for this stage: she's quite aware when her diaper is wet (or worse). Sometimes if we're lucky she will gleefully take it off and carry it to us to show us the contents. She’s happy as a clam to wave bye-bye to the poopy pebbles as they go down the toilet. I can't say the potty chair is completely ignored, though; she uses it as a step stool to reach the light switch in the bathroom. On, off, on, off. Repeat endlessly. But to actually use the potty? Not going to happen any time soon. Regardless of the fact that I am ready for her to be ready. Ah, well.

This is a typical day in the life of Little. I thought my older daughter was difficult at that age; I now know she was just a warm up to prepare me for the real deal. I wonder sometimes which of my kids is going to get me first, one from an ulcer, or the other from a heart attack. But for all the craziness in my life, I really am thankful for both of my girls. I'm also really thankful that they’re not twins.

Patience Unraveling

Long lines and short tempers...  instant coffee in the microwave... frozen “convenience” foods that cater to the “I need it yesterday” mentality as a culture. I’m late! I’m late! I’m late! we scream as we dash out into rush-hour traffic. Seems like everyone’s patience these days is worn thin with all the hurrying, scurrying and worrying.

Patience. That’s one of those little ‘object lessons’ that I definitely object to. I’ll give you an example. I found a cool decoration for our basement rec room, one of those retro beaded curtains that hang in a doorway. 
I wanted to string them along the open space going down our cellar stairs.

The individual beaded cords had to come off the hanging rod, since the area was wider than the rod. So I did that. But then … those beady little strings managed to get intertwined into a big, knotted mess. It was unbelievable. I had to disentangle each twisted string from the heap.

So, naturally, I copped an attitude while I was doing this. What is the point of this … nothing is ever easy... why, Lord, whhhyyyyy? Thoughts turn cosmic when things make no sense.

But after a while, I got into a groove working on those silly strings, unraveling the knots one at a time as if they were wound into a kind of puzzle. And rather than hang on to my frustration, I began to see that even the most ridiculous of situations can be turned into a lesson in patience.

It's one of the "fruits of the spirit" talked about in the Bible (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness... found in Galatians 5:22-23) we often think we acquire instantaneously when we begin a relationship with God. But fruit takes time to ripen and grow, time to cultivate its sweetness. There’s no shortcut, no easy way to learn patience. It must be developed in us. And that only happens when we allow God to teach us through the trials (major, minor, or just plain annoying) that we experience daily. 

No express lane thinking for me, thanks. I’d much rather take the scenic route, and learn to enjoy my life instead of just rushing through it.

Well, the beaded curtain did get up after a while... and I have to say... 
it looks great. Though only a small lesson in patience, it may yet prove handy. Winter’s not too far away. And I can’t wait to see what our box of Christmas lights looks like.

The Wrong Line at the Wrong Time

Let’s talk food shopping. You know when you’re at the grocery store, finished with the hunting and gathering and in a hurry to leave? You scan the checkout lines, trying pick which looks the fastest. This may seem like a no-brainer decision, but in reality it takes a very scientific approach to correctly choose the lane which will most likely get you and your groceries home the quickest.

There are important factors to calculate:

1) How alert is the cashier (upright or slumping?)

2) Number of customers already in line

3) Quantity of groceries in the carts ahead

4) Whether those customers look like they will either: a) argue with the cashier over expired coupons and non-existent sale prices, b) or worse, try to chat with the cashier

5) Whether those customers have their kids with them, which means they will be distracted and slower to unload their groceries and sort out their coupons and beverage-return slips, all while trying to keep the younger child safely in the grocery cart seat and focused on the free cookie snagged from the bakery to keep them out of meltdown mode during the tedious check-out process, while the older child is busy sneaking forbidden items onto the conveyer belt which go unnoticed because the harried parent is otherwise occupied. (This being a hypothetical situation and not one I’m familiar with myself…)

Unfortunately, even the most astute assessment can backfire, because at the exact moment you commit your cart and move into a checkout lane, that lane will reverse polarity from warp speed and grind down to a crawl. As every line but yours moves forward in a forwardly direction, there’s nothing you can do but grit your teeth and sweat into your coat. You know that feeling? I feel like that all the time.

And then, of course, we have the shopping horror-stories. These are typically not as gruesome as pregnancy/childbirth stories from veteran moms to expecting mothers-to-be, but it’s a shared experience we can all relate to. My favorite three shopping stories are all grocery store mishaps. The first is from a few years ago, as I was checking out, and the woman behind me in line had a child who was touching and handling my groceries as I was putting them onto the conveyer belt. This child was definitely old enough to know better than to touch someone else’s stuff and I politely asked the woman to have her stop. This mom – obviously a strong disciplinarian - responded with, “She ain’t got no germs!” Charming. Ain’t got no manners, either.

My second story (which happened quite recently) continues on the conveyor belt, where again I was unloading my groceries and the woman behind me began unloading hers before I was even halfway finished. The plastic stick divider did nothing to keep her stuff from squashing my poor groceries as the cashier and I struggled to keep up. This is one of those times where we wonder if it will do more harm than good to say something. Hey, lady, turn on your “clueless” light and warn us all that you’re coming.

My last trip is a visit down Amnesia Lane, and one incident I would rather forget. I was newly married and doing some grocery shopping on a very limited budget. I had maybe $30 dollars in my pocket at the time, cash only, without a credit card or bank/ATM card as a backup. I don’t know what I was thinking but I had loaded up my cart without keeping any kind of mental tally. I checked out and it added up to something like a hundred dollars. Reality hit, and hit hard. Had to explain I only had $30 and started the tedious (and embarrassing) business of voiding pretty much my entire order. That’s one store I never visited again.

Sometimes food shopping is great, where I get to slay dragons and battle giants and come home with fabulous deals on meals for the family table. It’s a hard fight, but one I enjoy winning. Other times, not so much. Shopping can be at best an outright drag, or at worst… well, you fill in the blank. Which reminds me, the fridge is empty and I’m pretty sure I saw tiny tumbleweeds blowing around in the pantry. I’ve got to suit up for battle and get out there to do some serious shopping. I’ll likely have my kids and my coupons with me, so if you see me in the checkout line at the store, I give you carte blanche (freedom of the cart) to pick any line other than the one I’m in. It will guarantee you’ll get home in record time.

It's chili out there

As a child, I was as fussy about food as you can find. Though my mother was an excellent cook, it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t try anything new. No Chinese or any other ethnic food, no to anything that looked suspiciously vegetative… heck, I wouldn’t even eat pizza when I was young. I would scrape everything off and just eat a wet triangle of bread. Yep, I was that bad.

In college when I lived off-campus and had to cook for myself, I survived on ramen noodles. But once I got married I realized I had to man up and learn some basic cooking skills. And when I started that… my love of cooking took off. The more recipes I tried, the more pride I had, and the more curiosity I developed about food and cooking. So in time I turned into quite a good cook. I’ve catered some awesome parties, and I am now a foodie through and through. So, if you have a fussy eater out there (of any age!) there is still hope. They can be taught, and turned.

Funny back story about my chili recipe. My girls are six years apart, but at separate times, each girl has brought home Thanksgiving schoolwork with their thanks for different things in their lives… and BOTH girls have artwork proclaiming, “I am thankful for my mama’s chili.” Warms you right up inside!

Now, chili can be a very regional kind of dish, with as many recipes as there are regions. So I don’t make any claims to say mine is the end-all of chili recipes. But when your kids cite your chili as one of their "thankful for's" … then you can bet it’s a good one!

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                       Simply Delicious Chili

1 pound hot Italian sausage links, removed from casings

2 pounds ground beef

1 28 ounce can crushed tomatoes

1 28 ounce can kitchen cut or diced tomatoes

2 soup size cans dark kidney beans, drained and rinsed

2 soup size cans light kidney beans, drained and rinsed

1 medium onion, chopped finely

2 red peppers or 1 red and 1 green pepper

1 box Carroll Shelby Texas chili seasoning 

Pour the two cans of tomatoes into a large cooking pot along with two cans worth of water. Add the chili seasonings and mix together. Crumble the sausage meat and cook in a sauté pan until browned.

Add cooked sausage to pot. Brown ground beef in the sauté pan with a little salt and pepper. Drain and add to sauce pan. Chop up onion, add to sauté pan with a little olive oil and cook for 5 or so minutes. Cut red/green peppers into small pieces and add to pan with onions. Sauté until softened, then add vegetables to pot. Add drained cans of kidney beans. Let simmer approximately 1 to 2 hours on the stove top, or load all ingredients into a large crockpot and cook about 4 -5 hours on low.

Serve over cooked white rice, and top with shredded cheddar or Mexican style cheese if you like. Cornbread and a leafy green salad make great side dishes.

Please note: I have specified Carroll Shelby’s chili seasoning in this recipe. You can certainly do your own spicing, or buy a different package of chili seasoning that you prefer. This brand comes with a really impressive amount of seasoning, plus separate bags of mesa flour (for thickening) salt and cayenne pepper, so you can spice it to taste.

Chef’s notes:

You can use ground sausage for this recipe, or get sausage links and just take the meat out of the casings. If you do the second option, have a little water in the pan you are going to cook the meat in, and use your hands to break up the sausage into small pieces in the water. It will cook up much more evenly that way.

Chili is a great dish to play ‘hide the veggie’ for those fussy eaters in your house. I use a micro-grater and grate a couple carrots right into the pot of chili. It gives the dish a touch of sweetness, and adds an extra veg to the dish. And no one will ever know! ;)

Serving tips: our family loves chili over a nice bowl of white rice. You can certainly use brown rice to sneak in a few extra vitamins - and even fussy eaters won’t notice the difference under a steaming scoop of savory chili. You can also top it with a little shredded cheddar or Mexican-style cheese, some sour cream, or whatever you like!

Cook smarter, not harder: this recipe works wonderfully in a crockpot. Just prep your ingredients in the morning and come home to a hearty dinner. Also, chili freezes well. So go ahead and make a double batch, and freeze half for an easy-peasy freezy meal!

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Perfecto Cornbread 

1 cup cake flour

2/3 cup yellow cornmeal

1 tablespoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon sugar

1 egg, room temperature

½ cup (1 stick) butter, melted

¼ cup vegetable oil

1 cup milk, warmed

  

Preheat the oven to 400° degrees.

Grease a 9-inch round, 1½-inch deep cake pan.

With a fork, stir together the cake flour, cornmeal, baking powder, salt and sugar.

Beat the egg, melted butter, oil and milk in a large mixing bowl until well-blended. Add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture and stir until blended. The batter will be somewhat thin and light.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 15 minutes, until a straw inserted in the center comes out with a few moist crumbs. Press the center of the bread; if it feels slightly firm the bread is done. Be careful not to overbake.

Serve warm wedges of the cornbread with honey butter.

  

Yield: one 9-inch round loaf. Batter may also be baked in a corn-muffin pan or regular muffin tin for approximately 10 minutes. Makes several batches.

Cook smarter, not harder: An easy make-ahead shortcut: sift together the dry ingredients and keep them in a container. Then when you are ready to cook, grab the wetworks, mix ‘em together, and pop your cornbread in the oven.  

Nemesis

There are days I wonder why I ever wanted to have kids. Now that one of our girls is a teenager, those days are more frequent. Yes, we have a teenage daughter. Did I hear a sigh of sympathy? Thanks. I needed that.

I don’t know what’s worse… having an only child that whines and begs for a sibling, or having a child who has received the long-awaited sibling and then regrets their request. Because once the new baby has grown old enough to get into her stuff … copy her… and show signs of being smarter than her… all bets of sisterly love are off.

People ask us all the time why we waited six years to have another child. Simple answer: just meet the first kid. Intense. Dramatic. Spirited. And that's on a good day. So we waited, and prayed, and when we thought we could handle another child (hoping that the new one would be... well, less like the first) decided to give the first one her wish of a sibling. She got her wish, and so did we. Different kids, as unique as the fingerprints on their sticky little hands. Now, different works well for some things, like tastes in style and food. It's nice to have a little variety. But when it comes to personality differences in siblings ... not so much. My two girls often clash like rams, locked head to head in mortal combat.

I spend a lot of time prying the two stubborn sisters apart, hearing both sides of the story, counseling and consoling, yet making little headway. Time lost defusing the endless enmity of everyday life.

Individually, both are bright, beautiful and loving. Each girl has her own wonderfully unique talents, temperament and eccentricities. And of course we adore both our girls. But to each other, they are as opposite as they could be. Diametrically opposed. Sister against sister. If they ever formed a singing group, they would be Nemesis.

Sibling rivalry is nothing new under the sun. I know this. But dealing with it is one of the most difficult things you ever have to do as a parent. It’s a never ending struggle, and if you favor one child over the other, you won’t hear the end of it. If you show equality to both (or all, depending on your household) you also can’t win … because children are self-centered creatures. They are a world unto themselves, revolving around their own bright little stars.

So when my girls go at it and the usual threats don’t work, I head for my parenting manuals. In these kinds of situations, the bigger books are better, because they make more of an impact when you chuck them at the kids. Paperbacks are okay, but if you really want to get your kids to stop arguing, hard-cover books are best for the kind of impression you need to break up a fight. Then I enjoy the 180 in attitude as their anger is diverted off of each other. Mission accomplished on two fronts: the fighting is over, and the two are back on one side - them against me. Let them sulk, I care not. I just want peace and quiet.

There are times when the two get along … brief, shining moments when they play and sing and work together famously. When they put their lovely little heads together in peace and not in battle. Times like those… well, of course I like to take all the credit for that as a parent (since it’s not in their nature to get along!) and I wish it could be like that always. Because as they grow older, they will need each other, need those qualities that the other has, that they aren’t as strong in. Need the bond of sisterhood, the connection of family. Life is unpredictable. If you spend your time on earth in angst and anger, there is much to regret later.

So I’ll keep on encouraging my girls to get along. I know they will catch on sooner or later. And when it does happen - and it will - it will be a sweet thing to see.

“Where did THAT come from?”

We are dog owners. Zoe, 8 years old, is a female Cocker Spaniel/Poodle mix. Izzy, almost 3, is a male Pekinese/Cocker Spaniel. This time of year their coats are growing out, so Zoe (who is white and has curly fur) looks like a sheep; Izzy (who has silky jet-black fur) looks like a shaggy little bear. And these two are about as much trouble as you can get in a pair of mismatched dogs.

Zoe woke me today at three a.m. … the dreaded ‘need to go out’ hour of the night. I followed her wearily downstairs, and Izzy, my shadow dog, followed me. The second (after) I let Zoe out, I noticed a steaming pile of cockapoo-poo on the pile carpet.  Fabulous. She tells me she needs to go out ‘after’ she goes? Such is my life.

No, we don’t have the best trained dogs in the world. Sweet, yes. Loyal, absolutely. But not good when it comes to use of the ‘outdoor’ toilet. Nope: my dogs are both masters of carpet chaos. They would much rather unload inside than face the elements outside.

Now that we have two dogs, we have much the same issues as we have with our two girls. The dreaded ‘whodunit.’ (“Who broke the lamp?” “Not me!” “Not me!” Sigh.) Both dogs will gladly hover by my side, looking at whatever current evidence is soaking into the shag, with the expression, “Where did THAT come from?” With two dogs, it is nigh impossible (short of DNA testing on the sample) to know for a fact which of them done the deed. In fact, Zoe - older and wiser in these things. will often look at Izzy with a doggish smirk, because she knows that he will act guilty… even when he’s not.

Izzy is a rescue dog, and for a long time, if he was upset, or frightened, he would turn around and smell his own butt. It was always a sure sign that he was the guilty party. But he is older and more secure now, and will stand blithely by without blinking. So it’s a lot tougher to tell who left the package, when neither is talking.

Now, when one dog feels the need to get a little fresh air at three in the morning, the other has to get their turn as well. And if it’s raining outside, guaranteed they will be coated with mud when they come back in. So I have a squeaky cocka leaky peki and a muddle puddle poodle battle to clean after their night-time romp. More fun and games for mama, who of course is the only one awake. More fun for me.

These things always seem to happen in the middle of the night. My kids routinely take off the dogs’ collars at night to give them some good scratching time, and it’s always those nights that the dogs will come collar-less and want to go out. As those collars could be anywhere, and I’m already downstairs, I have to struggle to get each dog in a walking harness to put them on their retractable leads. This is not an easy task in the daytime. At night, bleary-eyed without my glasses, it is a challenge. But once the dogs are out, I can commence with the carpet clean-up.

Now, if you are a parent, I’m sure you’ve endured the sole-shredding toys of toddler turmoil. There’s nothing quite like stepping bare-footed on razor-sharp Barbie shoes and Legos. Well, we’ve been through tootsie torture with our girls and their toys, and now we have it again with the dogs and their dry food. How dog food pellets can be both sharp and slimy at the same time, I don’t know. Kibble shrapnel, exploding underfoot like wet little bombs. I guess it all adds to the ambiance of our home, and adds color to our carpets.

But for all the trouble, I still wouldn’t give those two up for the world. Even as I type, Zoe is ensconced by my legs in the warm nook under the computer desk. And Izzy is right beside me, curled up in a bean bag chair and snoring softly, a de-fluffed bear nestled between his paws. Yeah, being a dog owner is a lot of work. But you know what? They’re worth it.

   

     

Minestrone Memories

My husband grew up in a big Italian family. To this day I can't go anywhere where I have to use my last name, without someone saying, "Oh! Are you related to ...?"  Yeah, probably. Have no clue. I was super excited getting 'in' with an Italian family because I'm a foodie, and naturally assumed I'd be busting at the seams after every visit. I couldn't have been more wrong.


Nick's family is third and fourth and fifth generation Italian. And if there were any cooking genes in that family... they've long since been watered down. Much like their soup. I cannot tell you the profound disappointment I've had with meals from his family. It's so bad that when you visit for dinner, you need to eat before you go... then feign stomach cramps and wait it out on the couch, moaning softly, until dinner is over. Yeah, it's that bad.


So when Nick's mom helpfully wanted to teach me to cook while we were dating ... I took her advice with a grain of salt. Then added a few grains of my own. And some pepper. And some texture, and flavor, and visual appeal. So, with many fond memories of developing my own Italian recipes, here is my minestrone soup.  Buon apetito!

Minestrone Soup                                              

1 1/2 lb. ground beef

1 large onion, diced

3 large potatoes, peeled and cubed

4 carrots, peeled and sliced

4 stalks celery, sliced

1 zucchini, peeled and cubed

6 cups beef stock (preferably made from a good base)

1 can (28 oz.) crushed tomatoes or tomato puree
1 can (15.5 oz.) light kidney beans, drained and rinsed

1 can (15.5 oz.) dark kidney beans, drained and rinsed
olive oil

2 cups ditalini (or your favorite soup pasta)

Parmesan cheese

Make the stock according to package directions. Add can of crushed tomatoes. Bring to a simmer. Add salt and a generous amount of pepper. If you wish to add some bay leaves or other dried Italian seasonings like parsley, basil, and oregano, about one tablespoon each will do. Put each tablespoon in your hands and rub back and forth for a few seconds to refresh the dried herb, then add to the stock.

Brown ground beef in sauté pan on medium about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Drain and add to stockpot. In the same sauté pan on medium heat, add about 3-4 tablespoons olive oil. Add diced onion; sauté 3 minutes. Add carrots, celery, potatoes and zucchini. Season with salt and pepper and sauté an additional 5 minutes. Add sautéed vegetables to stockpot. Drain and rinse both cans of kidney beans,  and add those to the stockpot. Taste and correct for seasonings, as needed. Keep soup at a light simmer.

A slightly different version of the above recipe.
I used shank beef instead of ground beef,
cranberry beans instead of kidney,
and added some escarole
right at the end.

While the soup is cooking, bring another pot of water to boil. Add about a tablespoon of salt. When it has come to a boil, add ditalini (or other soup pasta) and cook according to package directions. Drain, and put back in that pot off the heat. Keep covered.

Ladle soup into bowls and add a scoop of ditalini. Top with grated Parmesan cheese.  Serve with a nice crusty loaf of Italian bread.

  

Serves 6.

Bomb Diggity Birthday

Well, that was an interesting birthday. My day started out with the smoke alarm waking me out of a sound sleep. For my birthday, my older daughter Jaime made me tea and pancakes and brought me breakfast in bed. Then I had the pleasure of watching her, my husband, and my two dogs perched on my bed, all watching *me* eat. Needless to say, we shared. Jaime then dragged our younger kidlet out of bed. Let's just say Delia wasn't quite ready to be woken up. Nothing like a sullen seven year old to throw a damper on the celebration. Ah, well. Went downstairs to find the house immaculate (another gift from the elder child.) Had a good hour to myself - not counting my shadow dog, Izzy, who follows me everywhere, and Delia, who felt the need to snuggle with me in my blanket while I scored a little time playing on the computer.

Then I got a phone call from my mother. If you take a sec to scroll all the way down to the bottom of the blog, you can see the nice glitter ribbon I have up in her honor. She had breast cancer 22 years ago. Just a few weeks ago, the doctor found a new lump. She had surgery this past Wednesday to remove it. Well, last night she developed intense pain in her leg. My husband, the nurse, advised her to get to the E.R. because it might be a possible blood clot from the surgery.

I picked her and my step-father up and away we went - first to a prompt care (because my mother did NOT want to go back to the hospital) and then to the E.R. (because the doctor at the prompt care told her they couldn't do the tests she needed, and to go to the hospital.) My mom kept commenting to any and all who would listen, in a litany of guilt: "This is my daughter, it's her birthday today." Seems that everyone felt a whole lot worse for me today, going through the worry and waiting with my mom, than I did myself. But in my mind, family comes first, regardless of plans. So honestly I wasn't upset that my day had been 'wasted' ... because it wasn't. It was just a little different from what I had expected the day to be.

So on my special day, I spent it at the side of my mom, as she waited in the hospital. Kind of ironic, since on this day 46 years ago, my mom had given birth to me in that very same hospital. Then, after hours of waiting, the results were in: no blood clot. The doctors don't know what caused the pain, but at least it didn't turn into a worst case scenario.

Home from the hospital, I had to endure another dreaded event: a makeover by my 13 year old daughter. I use makeup (sparingly) and I prefer comfy clothes. Jaime thinks I should awake my inner daffodil. The makeover included her picking out my clothes - a pair of slacks I haven’t fit into for 10 years, and a button up shirt that would have potentially burst and shot hapless buttons into people’s eyes. So, that part was scrubbed, even as Jaime was busily scrubbing my face with her fancy rotating gadget. I have one too, a simpler model. I call it a “washcloth.” Well, I sat as nicely as I could while she did my makeup, then she worked on my hair with the straightener. Let me explain about my hair. It is coarse and wiry with a lot of gray. Let’s just say my best styling options begin and end with a hat. So, by the end of the makeover, my poor burned hair stuck out like a frizzy halo around my head, and the makeup Jaime applied made me look like a goth hooker clown. And then we went out to dinner.

My birthday wrapped up at a Chinese buffet with my family. Plates piled high, we all enjoyed a nicer ending to the day - a day that might not have had such a nice outcome.

Part of the trick of riding out the wave of expectation is to simply have no expectations. In Chinese fortune cookie lingo: "He who expects nothing shall not be disappointed." Put another way, you just learn not to worry about your day, because what you expect may or may not happen. You just need to roll with it. Reminds me of something the apostle Paul wrote: "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:12 - 13

Highlights of my day: I got breakfast in bed, a clean house, nice gifts and some wonderful birthday cards. Jaime called me the "almighty bomb diggity" in her card … and for a 13 year old to say that, you know that you rock as a parent! I know my family loves me, and I love each of them right back. So my birthday wasn't what I expected. But at least it was interesting. That’s how I try to enjoy all my days, the good with the bad. Because life is life … you never know what you’re going to get. And I’m content.

            

If it’s not one thing…

…it’s my mother, calling with the kvetch of the day. For those of you not familiar with a kvetch, it’s similar to a nag, which is like a constant annoying reminder, only more so. If by chance my mother neglects to fill her nag quota while on the phone, I can always count on an email with a more extensive list. My mom is big into lists. From the time I was old enough to make my own lists I had (as a joke) compiled an alphabetical list of all her ailments so I knew what I was in for as I got older.

I’ve reached the age myself, though, where I’ve started on an ailment list of my very own. Not a good thing to get sidetracked by serious health issues with young children and a busy household to run. For me, illness is like an obstacle course: I’m always running and dodging, trying to leap over the daily hurdles that challenge me in ways I never imagined.

The big one from my list is Fibromyalgia. This disease is like a combination of rheumatoid arthritis and chronic fatigue. Add to the mix sleep disturbances preventing any kind of restorative sleep – which produces another symptom, “brain fog” - memory problems equivalent to those often experienced during pregnancy. I've tried to explain the illness to my girls, describing the effects as if they were the Seven Dwarfs: Achy, Cranky, Forgetful, Gimpy, Sleepy, Weary … plus the occasional visit with Doc.

I’ve had quite a variety of responses from people when they learn that I have Fibromyalgia. Some have never heard of it; others know the name but few details about the symptoms. One fun thing about having an oddly-named disease are the unique pronunciations that people come up with. One friend (a nurse, by the way) called it Fibro Malaysia. Malaysia is a country in south-east Asia, sweetie. Also really liked the one from my pastor, who called it Fiber My Algae. While it’s important to get enough fiber in your diet, that’s really not what the disease is about. As for myself, I just like to call it Fibro What Ails You. That pretty much sums it up for me. One day you feel like you got hit by a truck; the next day it might feel more like a bus or a train. Every day is different. Just a nice little bonus of the disease, all the variety.

Some days are fine; other times the flare-ups just wipe me out and make ordinary things extraordinarily difficult. Simple things exacerbate the pain, like carrying groceries or lifting loaded baskets of laundry. When even the little things are a challenge, it takes an even greater effort to make the effort to do them. One of my favorite quotes is, “Obstacles are in the mind, inventing them.” Sometimes we set ourselves up for failure just by believing that we will fail. So we choose to not even try - which is failure in itself. If you let a little pain prevent you from living your life, it’s not really much of a life. But there are times you have to just push through the pain (much like during childbirth) and keep on plugging.

I say all this not to complain, or to illicit sympathy, but to make a point. There is not a person on this planet who doesn’t have some kind of difficulty in their life. Sometimes it’s a health issue; sometimes it’s a problem with a relationship, or financial, or the like. But we have a greater source than ourselves to draw on when we are beyond our own abilities. The Bible is replete with images of illness turned to triumph, of disaster changed to blessing. We may not understand why we are allowed to suffer, but there is always a point to be made or a lesson to learn. God’s ways are not our ways. We may not see the blessing in the day-to-day difficulties, but it’s there. There are times where He uses the flip side of blessing to draw us closer to Him. If we can learn to praise Him when times are bad, the good times will be even sweeter. God can use the problems in our lives to prove that He is with us always, through good times and bad. To walk in true relationship with the Lord is the greatest gift ever. A daily dose of communion.

In the book of 2 Corinthians, the apostle Paul mentioned suffering from a ‘thorn in his flesh.’ Though he repeatedly asked God to remove the ‘thorn’ (which some scholars believe was the onset of blindness) and restore his health, Paul did not get the answer he was looking for. He did, however, receive a greater answer: “But he said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (NIV)

So maybe I can’t do everything the same way or with the same energy that I used to. But I know that the Lord’s grace is with me, sustaining me through all my weakness. Fibromyalgia is a thorn that in all likelihood will never be removed from my side (or my knees … or my back … or my neck.) But that’s okay. Because His grace is sufficient for me, whatever my needs are. And that sure tops my list.

Teatime Recipes

Alright, I'll admit it. I do sometimes drink coffee. But in my heart of hearts I am the TeaLady (and while I'm typing I'm watching the steam from my Bewley's Irish Breakfast curling up from my cuppa.) When I get around to dusting I'll thrown in some photos of all my wonderful teapots. But until then (and until I find my duster) how about some recipes?

For a party, I present my favorite trifle recipe. Not for the kiddies, though, it has alcohol in it! Who says you can't par-teeeee with tea? This recipe is pretty decadent!

English Trifle

1 (10 3/4 ounce) frozen pound cake

1/3 cup sweet sherry

1/2 cup seedless raspberry jam 

3 cups mixed berries (sliced strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, 
blueberries), fresh or frozen (if frozen, defrost and drain before using)

Custard:                                                                           

8 egg yolks                                                        

1 1/4 cups sugar                                           

1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups whole milk   

                                        
Whipped Cream:                                          
1/2 pint whipping cream   
2 tablespoons powdered sugar
  
Garnish:
fresh seasonal berries, like strawberries or raspberries, rinsed and dried

First make the custard: heat the milk in the top of a double boiler over medium low heat until film forms on it. Beat the eggs with the sugar and vanilla in a double boiler until it forms a ribbon. Then slowly pour the hot milk into the eggs, beating all the time. Place the mixture in a heavy saucepan and stir over low heat until the custard coats the back of a spoon, 10 to 15 minutes. Don't let it boil. Strain it through a fine sieve. Cool the custard in a bowl set in ice water, stirring occasionally.

Cut pound cake in half lengthwise and trim halves to cover bottom of glass trifle dish. Sprinkle cake with sherry to soak, and spread cake with jam, heating jam if necessary to facilitate spreading. Place mixed fruit on top of cake. Pour cooled 
custard over the fruit. Refrigerate, covered, at least 4 hours.

Whip cream to soft peaks. Beat in powdered sugar and continue beating until stiff. Spread whipped cream over the trifle and garnish with the fresh berries.

Yield:  8 to 10 servings

  

Note: may substitute a packaged whip cream (like Cool-Whip) for the fresh whipped cream. And really, if you don't want to make your own custard... go ahead and use a cook & serve pudding.

Okay, you've got your super sweet trifle treat. Now for some savory. Tea sandwiches can be as simple or fancy as you like. Just cut the crusts off 'em, cut 'em in quarters, and you're good to go! I like to have at least three choices of tea sandwiches for a party. So here are a few to choose from:

Smoked Salmon and Cucumber Tea Sandwiches:
1 cup whipped cream cheese

1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill

1 lemon, juiced

8 slices white bread

1/2 cucumber, very thinly sliced

4 ounces smoked salmon

Combine the cream cheese, dill, and lemon juice. Divide the mixture evenly and spread it onto the bread slices. Place a layer of cucumber onto 4 bread slices and top with a layer of smoked salmon. Top with the remaining bread. Using an electric knife, cut the crusts off, then cut each sandwich in half.

Sorry Charlie Striped Sandwiches

3 cans water-packed tuna, thoroughly drained, and flaked

5 tablespoons mayonnaise

1 tablespoon lemon juice

salt, pepper and paprika to taste

several stalks celery, finely minced

20 bread slices, for 5 sandwiches from firm white bread and 5 from whole wheat

 

Place tuna in a medium-size bowl and mash with a fork. Stir in mayonnaise and lemon juice; season with salt, pepper and paprika. Mash to a smooth paste. Stir in minced celery. Make sandwiches with tuna mixture; trim bread crusts off and cut into triangles.

Additional note: if you make the tuna mixture ahead of time and find it develops too much liquid; drain off liquid and add some softened cream cheese to bind mixture back together.

Roast Beef and Horseradish Finger Sandwiches

1 cup sour cream

1/4 cup prepared horseradish

1 tablespoon lemon juice

salt

pepper

12 slices crusty bread, sliced 1/4 inch thick

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 ½ pounds seasoned roast beef, sliced thin

romaine lettuce

 

Mix together the sour cream, horseradish and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper. On 12 of the bread halves, spread some of the horseradish sauce. Top the sauce with 2 ounces of roast beef. Top the beef with 1 leaf of romaine lettuce. Place the remaining bread halves on top of the lettuce. Trim crusts and cut into quarters.

Curried Chicken Sandwiches

2 cups cooked, diced chicken breast

1/4 cup sliced almonds

1/2 cup nonfat plain yogurt

2 tablespoons mayonnaise

1 teaspoon curry powder

1 cup halved red grapes

1/4 cup chopped cilantro leaves

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a bowl, stir together the yogurt, mayo and curry powder. Fold in the chicken, grapes, and cilantro, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve over mixed greens or make into sandwiches with your favorite bread choice.

                                 Egg Salad Sandwich

 with Avocado and Watercress

6 eggs

1/4 cup mayonnaise, plus extra, for spreading

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1/2 lemon, juiced

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

8 slices whole grain bread, toasted

1 avocado, halved, peeled, seeded and sliced lengthwise

1/2 bunch watercress, stems trimmed

Cook the eggs 10 minutes in a saucepan of simmering water to cover. Drain, cool under cold running water, and peel. Roughly mash the eggs in a bowl with the mayonnaise, mustard, and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper.

Spread 4 slices of toast with mayonnaise, if you like. Arrange about 1/4 of the avocado slices on each. Spread each with 1/4 of the egg salad and arrange watercress sprigs on top. Top each sandwich with another slice of toast and serve.

Sandwiches can be de-crusted and cut into quarters, or you can use cookie cutters to make shapes out of them - especially good for a children's tea party. I'll be sure to put in some good recipes and suggestions for that kind of event next time I blog about teatime. But for the sandwich fillings, you certainly aren't limited to bread: you can hollow out cherry tomatoes, or use a lettuce leaf as a salad bowl, or top a flat veggie (like cucumber slices) with your wonderful fillings. Really, you can be as creative as you want. One thing to note, though: if you go with the traditional bread for your creations, sandwiches can dry out if you make them ahead of time. So take care to cover them with plastic wrap until just before your party.

However you make it, and whatever you choose to serve …  have fun!