I entered the last year of my early thirties yesterday. Oh come on! 34 is still early thirties. At least that's what I've been telling myself! Some birthdays are obviously better than others. This one takes the cake, so to speak, for being one of the best ever. Yes, it was really that good!
It started on Thursday. Sally HP had previously IM'd me to tell me that she would be picking me up at 6:45. No questions allowed. I tried to inquire whether or not I should eat dinner and was accused of fishing for information. I ate a PB&J at 5 pm.
At 6:45 she and my triathlon training buddy picked me up. Solely because they needed directions, they told me where we were going: The Citizen in Worcester. It's a restaurant that specializes in cheese, chocolate and wine. It's like going to a Chinese restaurant in that the more people you go with, the more different types of dishes (in this case cheese and chocolate) you can order to share. Three friends met us there. I had a fabulous time! Chocolate, cheese, wine and friends. It doesn't get much better than that! Yeah, I know I'm supposed to say some sort of motherly line about how if only my family could have been there, blah blah. Not happening! Needless to say, I didn't work out on Friday!
Once a year my moms group has a spa day. Usually that's my birthday present although it isn't necessarily on my birthday. This year it happened to fall on Saturday. After I worked out and the Big Giraffe and I took the boys to swim lessons, I headed over and spent a few hours totally relaxing. I had a facial* followed by hanging out with friends and having fruit, more cheese and of course wine. Hmm...that's a lot of cheese (not wine though)!
Sunday was my actual birthday. I got to sleep in and than after a lunch where no cheese was involved, we had birthday cake and I was able to run some errands sans kiddos. CVS was irritatingly slow, but again since I was without children, it wasn't such a big deal. Later on in the evening, I discovered that a pricey restaurant that I had always wanted to try had a Sunday priced fixed dinner. The Big Giraffe had already arranged a babysitter and was able to make reservations at the new restaurant. We had a fantastic time. Later on that night I put on my new anti-aging night cream. No, I'm not kidding about that. My skin has been unbelievably dry lately. The Big Giraffe was disturbed when I first told him about it because he was envisioning cold cream. Lotion, as in it dissolves into your skin! Of course there were phone calls and emails from family and friends, not to mention Facebook.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: 34 is a great age, even if it does require night time lotion!
*Since I am now the mature age of 34, I decided not to go with a boob massage again at least for this year!
Glad that you had a happy birthday, and I'm sorry that I missed you. By the way, I totally want to go to that cheese and chocolate place next time I come up to see. And you'll have to let me know how that chocolate sea salt caramel bar is.
It's no secret that I hadn't been feeling too much in the Christmas spirit this year between Merlin and the my surprise procedure that I had last month. In fact the Big Giraffe was the one who did all the Christmas shopping this year because honestly mental state aside, I just physically felt crummy.
Christmas can be a tough time for me anyway because I tend to get homesick. As much as I enjoy living out here, I find myself especially sensitive around the holidays to the fact that everyone around here seems to have lived here for so many generations that they can practically trace their roots back to the Mayflower. Hmm....I detect a little bit of snideness on my part.
In all honesty, New Englanders do have a reputation for keeping to themselves. That being said, it's not always such a bad thing. Part of keeping to yourself is keeping your opinions to yourself, and I feel pretty confident that no matter what my kids are doing, no one will comment on it, no matter what they may think. Still, if you're not from here, it can just get tiring after a while to try and make conversations. Don't believe me? Try coming to a youth soccer practice and notice how everyone tends to keep to themselves. Based on the number of conversations I've had about it in the past few weeks...not even initiated by me, I think that this time of year tends to raise this awareness within all New England transplants.
Last year we had my MIL visiting us for Christmas which was great. It was also the first time we've had a relative with us for the holidays. For various reasons, our families do not travel for the holidays. We've traveled to visit family, but honestly with two little kids, it can be pretty draining. Thus for the most part we've ended up staying here and making our tradition that we really don't have any traditions; every year we seem to do something different.
After hearing stories from people about the fun Christmas gatherings they were having with their families, and fantasizing about moving, I decided that I too wanted to have a Christmas party. But who to invite without splitting up the descendants of pilgrims? Other New England transplants of course! I joked around with the Big Giraffe that this was operation Take Back Christmas.
I had already decided I wanted to get deep dish pizza this year. Ever since my older son (OS) was born, my aunt and uncle have sent us a Chicago meal for Christmas. We usually have it on Christmas or right around it. I invited three families to join us at the last minute for Christmas Eve. Only two could make it. I had already ordered deep dish pizzas from Gino's East in Chicago, so I went ahead and ordered more. A little insane? Perhaps, but there wasn't really anything I wanted for Christmas this year. This was like a present to myself. And yes, in case you're wondering, the ordering is handled by an on-line group that works with several restaurants in Chicago. The food arrives on dry ice via Fed Ex.
One family brought homemade Christmas cupcakes. Another brought a couple bottles of wine. My aunt and uncle had sent up Garrett's Popcorn, which we regretfully broke open to share with everyone.
The kids ran around, ate, and then ran around some more. The adults drank wine, ate food and hung out. As for me? Well, I may have had a glass of wine...or four...and had a fantastic time. In all seriousness, it was the best Christmas Eve I've had since moving out here and definitely one of the top Christmas Eves ever. Wine aside, it was great to be able to hang out with friends. My kids loved having other kids to play with them. Perhaps in the Giraffe household we have a new tradition.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Deep dish pizza, wine, and friends make for a wonderful Christmas Eve.
Alex, I had EXACTLY the same reaction to living in MA. It was tough. I think especially for those of us from places like the Midwest. (Even though I'm originally from NYC, I'm truly a Midwesterner at heart).
I'm so glad you had such a lovely time and found a solution! We've done that sort of thing many years as we're transplants out here.
Tonight the Big Giraffe made gyros in the rotisserie. I absolutely love gyros and they're impossible to find around here. Good ones that is. I don't eat a lot of meat so that fact that I like gyros so much says a lot. A few years ago as a celebration for finishing organic chemistry for my post-BA program I decided to celebrate by feasting on a gyros. The BG was out of town so I ordered a carryout gyros platter for myself and one for the dog. Unfortunately the gyros was all beef and all gross as far as I was concerned so the dog got an extra big feast.
The gyros were cooking and smelling fantastic. I set the table and got the boys to wash their hands and sit down. They munched on carrot sticks while waiting. The gyros came out. Everyone really liked them. However, despite our feast, eating with the boys was like eating with a three ring circus or perhaps a bunch of cats. There were weird noises, funny voices, insults, temper tantrums, attempts to get up from the table, attempts to eat backwards so as to avoid eye contact with a sibling, tears, timeouts and singing. The last one would be from the BG when he decided to transport himself to another place and began singing Christopher Cross's Sailing. I was not impressed.
Once I brought the Big Giraffe back from never never land, he and I looked at each other in disbelief. What was wrong with our kids? It's not like we never eat together as a family. Then it dawned on me: it was the anticipation of the feast and the fact that it took longer to prepare than anticipated. As a result, we ate a little later. Then I had another realization: this is what Thanksgiving will be like. On second thought, Thanksgiving in the rotisserie may not be so great an idea.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: PB&J for the kids and a glass or two of wine for the BG and me may be critical to preparing for a Thanksgiving feast.
How are the holidays almost here?! Seriously weren't we just installing our air conditioners for the summer? Within our home, the holiday tradition seems to be that every year we do something different. We've had dinner here, eaten out, gone to friends, had friends come over here, gone to NYC and PA, and gone to Chicago.
This year we realized that Thanksgiving was quickly approaching and we had no idea what we wanted to do. I for one don't particularly like Thanksgiving Day food. Or perhaps I should say that I don't like the implication of Thanksgiving Day food. It's fine for one meal and maybe as a leftover meal the next day. However, that's about it. No matter how you disguise it, by Saturday you are eating dry, leftover turkey and soggy, leftover stuffing, possibly poorly disguised as a new dish. All the good foods, mainly the pies, are long gone. I suggested to the Big Giraffe that if we really wanted to celebrate family and good food, we should throw a couple frozen pizzas in the oven and serve them with a big bag of Halloween candy. I can guarantee given a choice between turkey and pumpkin pie or pizza and candy the boys would choose the latter. Frankly so would I.
I also get incredibly homesick on Thanksgiving. On top of it, as a college freshman, I developed viral meningitis when flying home to celebrate Thanksgiving. While I'm not a germophobe by any means, I have a really hard time flying around Thanksgiving. Even for those who haven't gotten sick, Thanksgiving is the busiest travel time of the year.
The question became how to make this holiday that I don't really enjoy a fun holiday for the kids? The BG agreed to be in charge of dinner this year. Okay. He made a dinner reservation for us. Fabulous...except that it could mean an argument with the boys who believe that major holidays should be celebrated by enjoying pajama days at home. Hmmm....an argument can be easily avoided if I am out of the house when they wake up. I decided that I wanted to do a 5k Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning. I specifically chose one where the proceeds go to a food pantry. Seems like that's in keeping with a holiday about food.
Yesterday my parents sent us up a rotisserie. I suggested to the Big Giraffe that this offered him additional options, such as cooking a small turkey or turkey breast in it! The BG immediately began perusing our new cookbooks, and he made a fabulous roast chicken tonight!
So, I'll be running, the boys will get to have a pajama day, and the BG will get to cook. Unfortunately the times don't quite work perfectly. Unless he is planning on making the dinner at 8 am, I will be home long before he begins his preparations, which means he and I may have an argument if he is not open to the insightful observations I like to share while he is cooking. He describes them as micromanagement. I don't want to fight during the holidays, so clearly I should nap while he's making dinner.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Pajamas, rotisseries, and naps are all things for which one can be thankful.
I've never really understood why it's such a given that Thanksgiving and Christmas have with a fairly big certainty turkey on the menu.....that must get boring no?
we don't have thanksgiving but for Christmas we put anything on the menu that we feel like (and that's a bit festive): turkey, fish, wild, fondue, ......
I can't believe my first season 2 triathlon is in a few weeks! I get excited thinking about how much fun it will be. The thrill of the adrenaline pumping through my body. The feeling of triumph as I cross the finish line. There's one feeling I'm hoping not to experience this season: the feeling that a pack of aliens is trying to break out of my intestines. Yes, that would be Runner's Gut. That little hidden "gem" that I didn't know about before my first triathlon. The shame of the running world. Fortunately I only experienced it after triathlons and two long runs when it was hot outside.
Last month I was over at a friend's house for lunch. She made some delicious butternut squash bisque. As my other friends and I exclaimed over the taste, she listed the ingredients. One of them was cream. I rarely make recipes requiring cream and when I do, I substitute fat free half and half, so it didn't register when I had my first bowl that it was real cream. Or later when I ate a second bowl. About 15 minutes later, I packed up my younger son (YS) and headed out to pick up my older son (OS). That's when I could feel the rumbling. Fortunately, I was able to keep it at bay until I was safely at home. I mess up on enough things with my kids as it is. The last thing I want is for OS to be forever teased about having the mom who locked herself in the preschool bathroom to confront a massive diarrhea attack. Pass that award onto someone else!
Pledging loyalty to the porcelin throne reminded me of other things that cause intestinal disturbance. Sometimes after a particularly intense run or spinning class, it feels like I have a baby turning over inside of me...except I know that it's not a baby, but rather something with the potential to alienate every other gym member in the class for the next 20 years. My doctor told me that I have Runner's Gut, and I am fortunte that it is not severe.
With my triathlons coming up soon, I decided to do a little more research on Runner's Gut. I found an amazing article in Runner's Digest. In addition to refreshing me on what I had learned in anatomy and physiology long before my mornings consisted of hunting through the house for the bottoms to a Tae Kwon Do uniform and before my afternoons consisted of giving up and shelling out $40 for a new uniform. The article explained that people who are lactose intolerant are more prone to Runner's Gut, and it also encouraged those affected to avoid dairy and curb high fiber foods for 24 hours before a race.
Well, that advice didn't exactly fit in with the way I had been preparing for my triathlons. In addition to using a cup of java with a splash of milk to wake up on the day of each race, I typically broke my fast with some sort of Kashi cereal that was soaked in milk. Yes, I do love my dairy products. It's amazing to me that I only had alien birth feelings instead of locking myself in a portapotty or squatting behind a bush for that matter. Oh, and I eat a lot of yogurt. While some people who are lactose intolerant are ok with yogurt, others, like my father, are not. In fact reflecting back, my mother who's a nurse always said that cream is the true lactose intolerance test for people who have the mildest of cases. Obviously my own unintentional experiment with the soup taught me that I could pass that test!
I switched over to Silk Light (or some generic version of it) for the splash of milk in my morning coffee. On days that I run, I eat soy yogurt instead of regular yogurt when I get home after my workout. I also asked someone from my spinning class whose intestinal aliens I had overheard if she knew anything about Runner's Gut. She quietly told me about a product called Ezekial bread. Why Ezekial? Apparently the ingredients and the recipe are inspired by what is written in the Bible. If you're looking for some laughs, do a Google search and read some blog posts about it. To sum it up, there are some hilarious descriptions of how truly disgusting this bread is. Few things could be as disgusting as...um...let's say alien afterbirth, so took my friend's suggestion to get the bread (and the English muffins), toast them, and cut the taste with almond butter.
I had walked past this bread every week without realizing it. In Trader Joe's, it's shelved with other bread. In other grocery stores it's with the frozen Kashi entrees. Unfortunately the store closest to us doesn't carry it. It reminds me of my recent purchase of a neti pot after a conversation at book club convinced me of it's magical powers (or really intrigued me enough to want to experience it for myself). I had walked by that many times too without realizing it.
I have been pleasantly surprised by the results. Not even a "baby" kick when I run. Plus, and this is the true miracle, after I eat the English muffins, I am actually full for hours! Of course, nothing lasts forever, and often end up feeling extremely hungry a few hours later with no warning. I will still eat dairy within 24 hours of a run, but I don't plan to before any future races.
I'll have the true test in a couple of weeks. However, if I can even tone down the feeling of a pack of bulls leaping out of my gut, I'll feel that I have been somewhat successful.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Toasting Ezekial bread and slathering it with almond butter disguises the taste.
The Big Giraffe and I always give each other chocolate for Valentine's Day. When I did Weight Watchers I remember the leader describing alternative gifts for Valentine's Day. Sure those sounded great. Who wouldn't like flowers or a new book? To me though, Valentine's Day is about one gift: chocolate. Now move over lady so I can make a beeline to get home and eat some.
Not too far from us is a candy mansion. It's basically a very large home, aka mansion, where they make and sell chocolate. What can I say except that Massachusetts is the land of petting zoos with zero depth pools and Dunkin Donuts practically every five feet. The Big Giraffe and I have always liked the candy mansion, not only because we love chocolate but because we find the idea of a mansion filled with chocolate pretty cool or perhaps I should say wicked cool. There was some saga where the owners got divorced and the quality of the candy seems to have gone down, but we still like going there.
On Friday I took the boys there once I gave up on my younger son (YS) taking a nap. After having a talk with the boys about how we were going to buy Daddy candy and no, they couldn't get something for themselves we headed out to the candy mansion. They whined the whole way about the injustice of being denied candy. When we got there, we carefully investigated all the choices. I carefully watched YS who seemed to be developing an early tendency towards kleptomania. Not suprisingly this oversight caused a great deal of squawking from both YS and me. Thus when YS started shrieking about Daddy I assumed it was round 504 of "Why does Daddy get candy and we don't". I turned around to see the Big Giraffe standing right there. Apparently he left work early to buy the boys and me candy. What can I say except that great minds think alike? And procrastinate alike. Since we both waited so long they only had little boxes, big boxes and giant boxes of candy. No medium sized ones were left, so we got one big box of candy and split it.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A cry for Daddy may sometimes be a cry of recognition rather than a cry of jealous outrage.
I don't like Valentines though. Never gotten a Valentine present, never given one either. I simply let that day go by like any other. i'm not romantic on command.
Other than the time our golden retriever, Gandalph, stole a pot roast off the table and the time he ate a baby wipe used to wipe off our older son's (OS) hands after he ate some of a different pot roast a few weeks later, Gandalph has left food on our table alone. Until recently that is.
In the past few weeks, Gandalph has been helping himself to our plates regardless of whether or not we are sitting at the table. In fact yesterday he accidentaly got my finger as I was throwing out some old nan in his haste to intercept it before it hit the trash. I figured it probably had to do with his new dog food, but I gave the vet a call just in case. She called me back yesterday evening.
Vet: I'm sorry to call you so late. Gandalph is such a great dog. It sounds to me like he's just really hungry. Alex Elliot (AE): Thanks for calling! I was up anyway (scrounging around in the kitchen for a snack). That's what I was figuring. Vet: He's probably hungry all the time and it's probably making him irritable and uncomfortable. AE: I completely understand. I feel that way too. Vet: It's probably all he's thinking about.' AE: (me clanking around the dishes in preparation for an evening snack of toast). Vet: It sounds like a really good solution would be to increase his dog food 30%-50%. It might make him slightly heavier, but it's about quality of life. Being heavier correlates with some health problems, but it doesn't necessarily cause them. AE: (Can you be my doctor! I want someone to tell me that I need to increase my food intake 30-50% and tell me it's about me being happy!) So I shouldn't go back to his old dog food? He really didn't seem to like it though. Vet: No, the new food is good, and he obviously likes it. AE: (Trying to pretend that my high fiber whole wheat toast with a touch of Smart Balance is a donut or better yet a thick slice of fudge cake.) Yes, it's much better when you enjoy what you're eating. Vet: It's probably a good idea to not have him in the room when the kids are eating until he's not so hungry. AE: (Alright seriously can you be my doctor?! I would love to have my doctor tell me that I shouldn't be in the same room as my kids when eating. No whining, no complaining about what I've made, no telling me that I'm mean, etc. etc.) Yes, I've been separating them. Vet: Also, you should keep the kids away from him when he's eating. AE: (Do you accept Blue Cross Blue Shield of MA? Can I have you write a prescription stating that I too need to be away from my kids when I eat because maybe then my insurance would cover a sitter for them. Maybe just maybe I would be able to finish a meal when it is still hot. At the very least I might be able to have enough time to taste it and better yet enjoy it. ) Yes, we already do that. We're also trying to give him some extra attention. Vet: Everybody needs extra attention. It's important because it lets the mother dog know that she's he's appreciated and can help make up for the fact that her kids told her that they wished that the lady at the grocery store was their mother...(Whoops! That was me substituing myself every time Gandalph's name came up.) Vet: If this still doesn't work then there's a great drug out there that supresses the dog's appetiate. It's expensive but works well. AE: You know I'm hungry all the time too.....(do you know how expensive my Y membership is. Hmmm...you wouldn't be chance know if that med is sold to humans under a different name like other vet meds are? Better yet, have there been any studies on humans taking that pill because I would be happy to volunteer myself.) AE: So to summarize, I need to increase Gandalph's food 30%-50%, let him eat in the comfort of his own space and privacy, keep him away from any kids mealtimes which inevitably involve whining, crying and meltdowns and give him love and attention. I have just one question: Can I be my dog?
The Big Giraffe gave a bemused look when I recounted this conversation to him and reminded me that we have an extra dog dish if I need it. I did not appreciate that.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Some dogs have all the luck.
The holidays are always a funny time for me. I suspect that the Big Giraffe would say that they are a somewhat crabby time for me. I absolutely love Christmas. Plus right after Christmas is my birthday. I enjoy the Christmas lights, the cheesy Christmas music, and the awful decorations in the mall that go up way too early but make the mall look bright and cheerful. Every year I'm determined that it's going to be the best Christmas ever.
However, with family living so far away, this festive season can bring on bouts of homesickness not to mention shear fear. Fear of what you might ask? Let me explain the holiday dinner transition theory that my husband hears about every year.
When you grow up, your family prepares your big holiday meal. As you get older you begin to help with the meal. Gradually you work your way up to making a dish or two all on your own. Then one day, you have your own place and you actually cook that dish in your own home and bring it to your parents' house (or whoever hosts the family meal.) Then over time you host the meal, but it probably starts out small. Perhaps you cook the main dish and family members bring over side dishes until one day (in my homesick mind it's about 20 years later) you host the whole thing on your own and if you have kids they are also in the beginning stages of the transition.
The problem is that I went from making dishes at my parents home (I have lived out of state since college) to making the whole meal. This tends to cause major stress particularly because I am not one of those people who finds cooking relaxing. Plus I really like relaxing and playing with the kids on Christmas, and I have no desire to spend hours in the kitchen preparing a meal. On the bright side, the Big Giraffe and I are free to come up with whatever holiday menus we choose.
This year my MIL is coming for Christmas. It's the first Christmas that a relative has ever celebrated with us since we got married. While it's her first Christmas celebration, and she doesn't care what we serve, her presence causes the backup plan of frozen pizzas stashed in the freezer just in case to lose their appeal. The past couple of years we've done fondue which has been a lot of fun, but the boys don't particularly like it, by which I mean they don't like it at all. Plus I'm a little nervous about them being around the fondue flame. For several years, relatives have sent a meal on dry ice from a famous Chicago restaurant for Christmas Eve. That has been fantastic and is another idea that we are considering extending on our own for Christmas this year.
My question to you is what do you serve for the holidays? Or perhaps I should ask, if you could start holiday meal traditions from scratch, what would you serve?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Without traditions, holidays offer a blank slate of opportunity.
Lasagna or homemade spaghetti and meatballs are good dishes that everyone will like - including your boys - but can still be made to feel special. Add some good wine, salads, cheeses and crackers (for appetizers), and a special dessert. The boys could help you make meatballs and you could prepare the sauce early and let it simmer all day.
One of my friends' family has filet mignon every Christmas dinner because it doesn't take a lot of time and is luxurious. Pop some potatoes in the oven and make a good side dish like mac and cheese with really quality cheese (Martha Stewart has a great recipe).
A few years ago when I hosted my first Christmas Eve for the whole family, I made a huge pot of chili and set out shredded cheese, sour cream, guacomole, and corn chips. It was a lot of fun.
we were thinking of cooking a turkey of xmas eve, eating some of it, and then using the leftovers to make m's dad's ragout - which is basically brown gravy full of shredded turkey and pork meatballs, all poured over traditional tourtiere (old-fashioned quebecois meat-pie).
and the best part is, here in ontario, you just BUY the meat pie (and don't tell anyone).
so, yes, meat, meatballs, brown gravy, all over ... meat in crust.
yum.
it's our first xmas on our own, so we are looking forward to doing our own thing!
Super easy - roast a chicken, boil the potatoes while the chicken is roasting (peeling is Big Giraffe's job), use some packaged or canned gravy (there are some wonderful ones in gourmet stores), steam green beans in the microwave, heat up parker house rolls that you got from the supermarket, and serve a bakery pie for dessert. If you don't find cooking relaxing, you should be able to spend the day with the kids. This dinner can be brought to the table in about 20 minutes active time and an hour and a half total time (I have a great, easy chicken recipe I can send you).
Alternative - serve Christmas day brunch, instead. Buy a stollen, heat it, make scrambled eggs and chicken sausage. Voila! Mimosas for the adults.
I do a brunch menu on Christmas (usually stolen from Williams Sonoma) and then on New Year's misc appetizers, keeps us full and happy all day. A great start to the year. Best of luck!
WOW, I'm really bad at advice on this subject. My husband is the cook in my family. And I usually end up at my sister-in-laws for holidays and the most we have to bring is like a pumpkin pie or something.
We don't have any Christmas traditions. My parents (still the hosts, their won insistence) sometimes have ham, or beef, or turkey. Except when they don't--one year we all made Chinese dumplings with my Taiwanese SIL, yum. The traditions are more a simple brunch after presents (egg casserole and coffee cake), lavish Christmas stockings for the kids. The last few years there have been Christmas crackers, a la Britain. It will be great! And less pressure than Thanksgiving, where it's all about The Meal.
I've told you before about the waffle feed Christmas Eve, which is SO fun! But also, on Christmas Day we have sticky buns in the morning and then a ham dinner later...my mom makes her rolls and we have all kinds of fun salads, but the main meat (the ham) is a Honeybaked Ham so just needs heated...I think your "on ice" idea sounds like lots of fun!
My mom suffers from a lot of cooking stress as well, but my best holiday meals I remember are fondue or fondue (bourgignonne) or raclette.....nothing to prepare except for salads etc , everyone cooks during the meal himself. It's very cosy, it's very festive (with the heat glowing from the table), and it's often done in Belgium during the holidays. You can order special meat/cheese fondue dishes at all buchters.
oh and the best thing is that most butchers give you "crepe/pancake batter" along and then you make crepes in your little pans after the meal!!!!! mmmmmm, with hot apple sauce or chocolate sauce or ....
My boys aren't real big meat eaters. It's not that they won't eat it, but they just don't eat a lot of it. I jokingly call them my little vegetarians in the making since I was a vegetarian for ten years. However, there is one type of "meat" that they just love: turkey bologna. They enjoy everything about it: the taste, the feel, the smell. In fact I have to limit how often I'll buy turkey bologna because they'll go through a whole package in a couple of days. It's a special treat in our house, probably on the same level as good wine, cake and marzipan. The Big Giraffe is exactly the opposite. He has an aversion to the scent, texture, and taste of bologna.
A couple of days ago the boys made Christmas cookies. Yes, I know it wasn't quite the holiday season yet, except according to the malls, but I don't really enjoy baking so I knew that if I didn't seize the moment the Christmas cookies might be made in March. The boys had a good time using the cookie cutters and the different Christmas sprinkles. Not surprisingly, they had a better time eating them. Because we didn't make a lot of them, my older son (OS) was very surprised to realize that he had eaten all his cookies. He meant to save one or two for Daddy, but the cookies were just so good...
My younger son (YS) had no problem saving cookies for Daddy. In fact he was really excited to put three cookies in a very secure location...the empty turkey bologna container from that morning. Fortunately the Big Giraffe was spared an uncomfortable experience, since both boys were asleep before he got home.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Those who claim that kids don't like to share are full of bologna.
Given the amount of work that we have put into getting rid of clutter, we have made a commitment to avoid buying things in bulk until after we move. For many things, this isn't a tough resolution to keep. For example, there isn't much reason for us to stock up on breakfast products. My older son (OS) is just not into breakfast. How could he possibly be related to me? I used to be philisophical with the aid of the psalm which reads that you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. Our problem is that we can't lead him to water or better yet the breakfast table. On mornings that we can get him to at least try breakfast, he tends to surprise himself with how hungry he actually is. On mornings when he doesn't eat breakfast, everyone including his teachers can tell. And yes I've even tried having him play outside before breakfast in the morning.
There are no judgments in the Giraffe household on what others feed their kids for breakfast. After first (otherwise known as in the time before I was parent) believing that my children would always eat a healthy, well-balanced breakfast, I now just settle for breakfast. Hence the frozen chicken nuggets OS had for breakfast the other day or the frequent PB&J breakfast sandwiches. Actually, neither of those options even causes me to wince; they're both high in protein. Not surprisingly, OS has his best days when he eats a breakfast high in protein.
This evening when I was at the grocery store there was a deal where if you bought two boxes of Kellog's cereal, you could get a character bowl for free. There were a variety to choose from, and I just knew that those bowls were the exact type of thing my kids would like. I hope they may even be appealing enough to interest them in eating the contents of the bowls. So I did the reseasonable thing and bought four boxes of cereal, even though I wasn't planning on buying any. Hey, I couldn't get a bowl for OS without buying one for my younger son as well, and if they are four times as interested in eating cereal from those bowls, I can put the cereal to good use.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There are times to buy in bulk and give in to commercialism.
I enrolled my younger son (YS) as a community kid in an Early Intervention playgroup through my town. My older son (OS) was in the same playgroup when he was young younger and really enjoyed it. I thought it was a great program, and, as an added bonus, they had a parenting group run by a social worker for the last hour of each session.
The first time we went, YS loved it but I had to be pulled out of parent group because he was having some separation issues. What?! I had never been pulled out of parenting group before. Oh, yeah different kid. This last time YS did really well for the whole playgroup. There were no separation issues, and I was able to relax and enjoy parent group. The psychologist who led this group wanted to know if she could give advice on anything. I puffed out my chest (alright mentally because otherwise that's just weird) and gave myself a little pat on the back (obviously mentally!). This was my second child after all. Clearly I was an expert. However, a little voice reminded me of the drama I had...been through...that morning with both of my kids.
Alex Elliot (AE): This morning my kids asked for ceral for breakfast. However when I gave OS his bowl, he began to protest that he didn't like the bowl. Then his brother began to protest that he didn't like his bowl either. It turned from one protest into two.
Psychologist (P): So what do you do?
AE: I ended up switching ceral bowls because if OS doesn't eat breakfast in the morning he's a nightmare.
P: It sounds like you handled it well.
AE: What?! I totally caved in to to his demands! I set a precendent! It's a slippery slope! I now had four dirty bowls instead of two.
P: Do you have a dishwasher?
AE: Yes.
P: Then what's the problem? You don't want your kids to think you're inflexible. It's important to show that you know how to pick your battles and that you're willing to listen to something that's important to them even if it's not a big deal to you.
AE: I guess.
P: Did they both eat their breakfast? Was eating breakfast the ultimate goal?
AE: Yes.
P: So you got them to eat their breakfast. It didn't go exactly as planned but it's not like the extra bowls took up a lot of space in the dishwasher. Next time just play silly back at them and say "You know I think the Mickey Mouse bowl would make a better Tuesday bowl than Monday bowl. I think the red bowl is a good Tuesday bowl."
The discussion did make me view the situation differently. There was no problem with the bowls today. She was right that the kids did settle down once I switched bowls, and I will begrudgingly acknowledge that it is important to be flexible. Hey, that's in the title of my blog after all and if there were ever a reason to be flexible surely that's it! I'm kidding. Yes, it wasn't a big deal to put in the extra dishes. Flexible about switching bowls I can be, but flexible about being conned into doing more dirty dishes no matter how much easier it might be to wash them hmmm...that might take a while to work on that.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There is something to be said for flexible parenting.
I love that--I have that debate with myself ALL the time (Did I just cave or was that "choosing my battles"?)! Glad to know the psychologist was on my side, and yours.
My husband really has a hard time in being flexible. I wish he could have a psychologist tell him it's okay to give the kids what they request once in a while!!
Being rigid is important over certain issues but life is about being happy and if having a different bowl gave them some control and happiness, it was worth switching.
When I went to get the kids up this morning, my younger son (YS) was just waking up and my older son (OS) was bouncing all over the place. Usually it's the opposite. I think it's because unfortunately we had the pleasure of finding OS taking up the entire bed curled up in bed with us last night thus allowing the boys to sleep in separate rooms and prolonging their usual morning shouting matches brotherly playing. YS seemed groggy, but I didn't think too much of it. As usual, I was distracted with OS's theatrics. Poor second born YS!
After breakfast, I noticed that YS was walking around with a really bizarre expression on his face. It looked like his cheeks were sunken inward and his lips were pursed together. I did a finger sweep and found a piece of cheese in his mouth. He had "eaten" a piece of string cheese with breakfast. Thinking it was resolved I went back to the important things in life like loading the dishwasher and checking email. However, when I looked over at YS, a few minutes later he still had that same expression on his face. Again, I did a finger sweep and found another piece of cheese (the breakfast dishes had long been cleared so this was the same piece from breakfast.)
I de-slimed my finger and went back to what I was doing. However, another glance over at YS revealed the same expression. Then with a sinking feeling I realized that I hadn't heard him speak all day. Not even his usual "No, OS!!!!!" at breakfast that happens at least a half a dozen times. I bolted up from the couch and did yet another finger sweep except this one was empty. I started to get nervous. What the heck was wrong with his face? I tried to coax him to say some words. Nothing. Why couldn't he swallow that cheese that I had removed? Was there a problem with his facial muscles? I called the Big Giraffe who asked to speak to YS after I not so calmly told him my concern. YS began speaking to him, but his words were mumbled.
I was a little panicky at this point, but felt better that at least he was talking. He already had a doctor's appointment scheduled for this morning for a weight check. Plus he was playing normally with OS. He was also making good eye contact. Other than the weird expression and the fact that he wasn't saying anything, he seemed fine. I decided to finish getting us ready. I did a final finger sweep and again there wasn't anything there. However, when I went to brush YS's teeth a few minutes later, he began to act squirrelly. After a wrestling match a battle of wills, I discovered why: there was a small piece of cheese lodged under his tongue that he was sucking on.
I pried it out of his mouth and almost lost my fingers in the process. It was just like in the movies where a baby is born and a few seconds later they began to cry (my kids came out crying.) There was a moment of silence where I could see the wheels turning in his eyes and his mouth gearing up to let out an ear piercing scream that he wanted the cheese back. Things were fortunately back to normal.
The pediatrician said it was a toddler power struggle. She welcomed YS to the world of being two. Great. In the meantime, YS put on a pound an a half! The progress is good and on track. He's to continue with his current diet including whole milk and be re-checked in three months. Yes, I still am envious of my own child!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The cheese stands alone; hopefully it's not standing alone under your child's tongue.
That's great that he gained weight so quickly. What is the special diet that YS is on, can I find it somewhere? Our doctor advised us last week to up our son's calories. He's pretty picky so that'll be challenging.
I'll give you a minute to get the Salt N Pepa song into your head. It may help you to buffer yourself from some of the...colon-related subject matter in this post.
Today is the start of the Olympics! Hurray! I am currently camped on the couch watching the opening ceremony. I love the opening ceremony for the Olympics. I told the Big Giraffe that I love the opening ceremony, and he replied that he knows that I love the opening ceremony, apparently because I had told him that I love the opening ceremony earlier in the day, at which time he told me that he knew that, apparently because I had told him that I love the opening ceremony earlier in the day, at which time...The same thing happened in 2006, 2004, and 2002. While I may not be even close to an Olympian myself, the Olympics offer the perfect backdrop for me to share my exciting news: I have officially become a runner.
Unfortunately, and unbelievably, in the past 6 years, I have lost two friends who were my age to colon cancer. In addition to being a very sad experience, it has made my hypersensitive to certain health issues. After two entirely separate heavy workouts in the summer heat this month, I have had to make a mad dash for the bathroom within 10 minutes of the workouts' conclusion. My insides felt like they were turning inside out, and there was bleeding. While it was not a hemorrhage by any means, there was quite a bit of blood. The first time it disturbed me, and the second time it flat out freaked the Big Giraffe and me out. Since we were in the Catskills without cell phone reception and the bleeding did stop, I made a mental note to call my doctor first thing Monday morning upon my return. I was feeling a little panicky all week, and the Big Giraffe and I have had several discussions in which I wondered out loud whether it was cancer.
After I mustered up the courage to explain the situation to the doctor, she examined me and gave me her diagnosis. I had something called Runner's Gut. Basically bouts of Runner's Guts occur when you get so dehydrated that your electrolytes get thrown off balance causing a wide range of symptoms from gas to bad diarrhea. Alright, why is this not listed in my triathlon books? To me this should be one of the first entries in the section describing common injuries! In hindsight I realized that I didn't have enough water during both of my episodes. Thanks to my hydration pack, I've never run out of water during my triathlons even though the exercise has been more vigorous and the temperature has been hotter and thus been spared this experience.
Basically my doctor told me that runners are very prone to hemorrhoids as are people who ride bikes. This seems tough for triathletes to avoid, particularly since triathletes in training typically lift weights, and weightlifters are also prone to hemorrhoids. She summarized by saying that any sport where "you have to grunt or where there's friction" between a seat or your legs and an area where the sun doesn't shine. While I had never heard of this before, once I started discussing this with others, I have had a couple of friends confess to having some...familiarity with it.
So, what is the connecting between hemorrhoids and Runner's Gut? Well, if you have hemorrhoids and then get diarrhea, which can be triggered by things ranging from dehydration to food poisoning from things like bad mayo, those hemorrhoids may rupture from the pressure. You will then see a lot of bright red blood. Perhaps you should take this time to let the song play through your mind again. Doing okay? I know this can be an uncomfortable subject.
My doctor made clear that this does not offer me an excuse to stop running. She prescribed a heinous breakfast for me for the next week or two (and whenever else problems arise, because she said they would) consisting of oatmeal with raw bran and 2 dried prunes in it. My stomach is churning just thinking about it. I am also supposed to really make sure I'm drinking enough during the day and when I workout. As she left, she reassured me that this is very common among runners*. It was then it hit me: I am officially a runner! I have the Runner's Gut to prove it! The Big Giraffe did not appreciate my humor when I suggested he say to me, "Congratulations, You're a Runner Now!" All kidding aside, I am incredibly relieved that nothing is really wrong. Needless to say, I would eat 100 bowls of heinous cereal every day rather than have it be cancer.
Apparently standard protocol for any bleeding is a colonoscopy if you can't find the cause for the bleeding, and sometimes even if you think you know the cause for it. You definitely should see your doctor if you have any. Runner's Gut should not be self-diagnosed.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Drink plenty of water when working out and see your doctor if you have any irregular bowel symptoms.
This has happened to me too! I thought it was the diet coke, but maybe not, though I am sure it didn't help. I had no bleeding but the rest happened while I was running. Yes that was fantastic.
So glad that's all it was for you, how very frightening!
Glad it was "only" runner's gut. That breakfast will give you lots of energy. If you cut the prunes up and cook them together with the oatmeal, they'll taste better (and so will the oatmeal).
Feel better! And you're so right... get those gut things checked!
Very interesting. Just an extra word of caution about bloody doody: if there is a lot of black stuff in poo, it could be blood from higher in the digestive tract, so be as aware of that as other nasty shit.
Thanks for all your well wishes! Everything seems to be going well in that department so to speak and is back on track. Suzanne, my doctor did tell me that. Apparently also with colon cancer you can get oozing.
Yesterday I called my cousin to congratulate her on her engagement. After talking for a while she asked me how my younger son (YS) was doing on his high calorie diet. This is my cousin who after eating 6 chicken breasts for breakfast one day at the ripe old age of 20 found out she had a hyperthyroid and had to have it irradiated. This was no surprise to anyone, since she's always been incredibly thin. I told her that YS was doing well, but honestly he just isn't that into his high calorie foods. She said that she has always preferred candy like Air Heads or Twizzlers to chocolate and doesn't really like desserts like chocolate ice cream or chocolate cake. They're simply too rich for her. Alright seriously can we run a DNA test here, because there's just no possible way I can be related to her! Except that somehow both of my sons are just like her. I wonder how many really thin people who don't diet simply don't like high calorie and high fat foods.
I had planned on leftover pork tenderloin for our evening repast. When the tenderloin proved to be MIA about 15 minutes before dinner, I realized that I had no idea what we were having. Fortunately, I had a giant bag of pancake mix that was left over from the Catskills trip last week and some blueberries that were fortunately not left over from the Catskills trip. Voila! Blueberry pancakes for dinner! Alright, maybe it wasn't quite magical and there is a rumor out there that I may have burned a pancake or five, but I was able to get them on the table pretty quickly. The boys were excited to have breakfast for dinner.
As we were all munching and I was fantasizing that my blueberries were chocolate chips, YS starting motioning that he wanted a bite of my pancake that was particularly densely populated with blueberries, despite the fact that he had half a pancake on his plate. When I gave him a perplexed look, he began to motion more frantically and say "blueberries!" As I resignedly passed my fork to YS, I made a startling discovery. His pancakes were filled with holes. He had eaten all the blueberries and left the pancake behind. I then looked at my older son's (OS) plate. He had eaten most of his blueberries and most of his pancakes, leaving a few forlorn berries behind. Not to worry, YS ate those. Despite knowing at the age of 32 that fresh blueberries are healthy, I still wished that if they wouldn't transform into chocolate chips that I could at least pluck them right out, throw them in the trash, and fill the holes with syrup. This is exactly why I'll never be one of those naturally thin people who never has to exercise or watch what I eat. Apparently neither will the Big Giraffe. He came home, glanced at the stack of pancakes, and pulled the leftover pork tenderloin out of the meat drawer of the refrigerator.
Big Giraffe's Lesson Learned: The best place to hide leftover meat is the meat drawer of the refrigerator.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: If you don't like high calorie and high fat foods, it is easier to stay thin.
This week, my 18-month-old daughter ate an entire pint of blueberries in two days. Thank goodness they're in season so I can get them at a reasonable price! She'll be out of luck this winter when they're $5 a pint.
I think it's genetics. I know plenty of skinny people who love high fat foods (my husband) and can't gain an ounce to save his life. I like the high fat foods too but I eat them in moderation, y'know for the girlish figure and all.
It may be genetics. Has YS been checked for hyperthyroidism? I wonder if those genetics are there, too? I'll bet he has...
But I used to just go gah gah for blueberries and I've never been super thin, although I was certainly normal weight for most of my childhood (with just occasional slight weight gains here and there).
Breakfast foods and desserts are my favorite, too. Although I admit that I love blueberries in pancakes. More than chocolate chips and syrup. Blueberries rock. For the record, lest people think that I am like Alex's sons, I ate several brownies today and drank a milk shake. Dinner was mozerella with tomatoes and 2 pieces of pizza. (This is probably why I had a stomach ache most of the day.)
I wonder about this---I haven't had major weight problems in my life but also don't really like super fatty things like Alfredo/cream sauce, donuts or tons of fried things---I will have them every now and then, but don't really crave them. Chocolate, on the other hand, is different. . .I could eat it with almost every meal.
My dream has always been to be one of those people who can eat whatever they want and yet still be thin. Hmm...more specifically thin without having to exercise or say, just for an example of course, do triathlons. You know those people I'm talking about; the ones who've never been on a diet in their whole life. They can eat whatever they want and not worry about it. In fact because they can eat whatever they want a lot of times they tend to not eat sweets very often because it's no big deal to them. How irritating! We have quite a few people in our family like this. Sadly neither the Big Giraffe nor I possess these magical metabolisms.
My kids consume a large amount of food. Sometimes I think about what they're going to be like as teenagers and I feel panicky. Images of second mortgages to pay for warehouse quantities of food pop into my mind. Whenever we're around people who don't see them on a regular basis, they comment on how much the kids eat. A box of frozen multigrain waffles lasts two days in our family; sometimes three if we're lucky and no, the Big Giraffe and I don't eat waffles. My kids eat pretty healthy, but they have their share of sweets as well. I let them pick out a dessert pretty much every day (a couple cookies, a Popsicle, a package of fruit snacks, etc.) They can have it whenever they want it; it's their choice even if that means at breakfast.
My older son is above average height but below average weight. He's on the thin side, but there's no cause for concern and if anything the pediatrician said it was a good thing. The pediatrician just said to keep doing what we've been doing. He eats pretty much anything and loves salad. The only thing he doesn't like is milk and he's not a huge fan of ice cream. He likes it but would much prefer a Popsicle just like how he would prefer fruit snacks to cookies or candy. Yeah, that's what I mean about those thin people who can eat anything. Yes, he does eat a lot but a Popsicle is much lower on calories not to mention fat than a cookie.
I had been concerned about my younger son for a while. His weight was low at his 18 month checkup, but the pediatrician said it wasn't a cause for concern yet; we would just keep an eye on it. Today he had his 2 year appointment. He's grown three inches but has gained less than a pound. The doctor put him on a high calorie diet. Visions of Oreo cookies and cake immediately filled my mind. Cake every evening! Oh wait, cake a la mode every evening! There were two problems though. The first and biggest being that it was YS not me that was put on a high calorie diet. The second problem is that you want to increase the calories in the amount of food the child is already eating and not increase the amount of food. That way you're not teaching your child to overeat and as the doctor said you can't make kids eat anything they don't want to eat anyhow.
He's back on whole milk but this time I need to add powdered whole milk to it. He is supposed to eat whole milk cheeses and yogurts. I have a whole list of high fat foods for him. They are foods like peanut butter, granola, Carnation Instant Breakfast, tuna in oil etc. He also gets to have one "special" milkshake a day. This is where I want to pause and ask the following question: Can you envy your own child?
Special Milkshake* recipe:
3/4 cup High Protein Milk (1 cup whole milk + 4 Tbsp dry milk powder)
1 cup ice cream
1/4 cup Half and Half
2 Tbsp. chocolate syrup
A. Elliot's Lesson She's Really Hoping She Follows: Don't eat your kid's food no matter how tempting it is.
*There are multiple versions of the milkshakes using fruit syrup, sherbet etc.
** He has another appointment in two months where he will have a weight check. There are a few possibilities for why he's having difficulty gaining weight: 1) Magical metabolism combined with the fact that my kids play outside or at the Y most days of the week. 2)Thyroid problem which does run in our family 3)Enlarged adenoids. Apparently in some kids it can make it harder to breathe which can in turn cause them to burn a lot more calories.
The whole metabolism thing drives me CRAZY. My SIL tried to give me a lesson on nutrition once. My SIL, who is 95 pounds soaking wet and made it to a whopping 120 pounds when pregnant. I said to her, "You don't understand, because you could eat whatever you want and not exercise and you would still look exactly the same!"
She tried to tell me she could let herself go, but I pointed out that I LIVE with her genes letting himself go, and no, he does not gain weight. EVER. Regardless of whether or not he exercises or whether or not he eats cheesecake seven times a day. It doesn't happen.
Perhaps she hasn't seen every single person in her family that looks exactly like her, I don't know.
Me, I finish a half marathon training series only to still not lose weight. ArG!!! I hate my stupid metabolism!
Having a tiny girl at home who only weighs 33 pounds at age 5, I like the idea of having a special shake every day. Where did you find the protein powder?
Today's both Flashback Friday and the Blog Blast for Education. Here's a flashback about school that I was recently thinking about as I've been really into eating dried apples lately.
When I was in second grade, we got to actually make our own dried apples in school. When I think back to how it was done, there is just no way that it would be allowed today. Let me list all the reasons why:
We were given knives albeit plastic ones to cut our apples in rings.
There were a lot of parent volunteers who helped us do it. I heard from a friend at a moms group event last night that there is a shortage of parent volunteers at her school (for understandable reasons: parents need to work)
I feel bad for any kids who may have had fruit allergies because I can almost guarantee that nothing was done to alter the project to accomodate or protect them in any way.
Lots of sticky germy hands, both little and big, put their apples rings on large quantaties of string
I can pretty much guarantee that no attention was paid as to whether or not the string had any chemicals on it
We hung the strings from the ceiling of our classroom for a couple weeks to dry without regard to dust
When the apples were done, each kid grabbed a section and we walked around the school to show the 5th graders what we had done (The 5th graders were having a no talking day and one of the students wrote a "good job" message on the board with chalk)
We all went back to the classrooms where I highly doubt we washed our hands or the dried apple slices before feasting
The apple slices weren't labeled so most likely I didn't eat my own
Hey, I still remember how much fun that project was all these years later. It was the same year we had balloon day at school where we released balloons in the air with postcards with our name and the school's info on it in hopes that someone would find them and write us back. We learned all about how to make dried fruit and how good it tasted. I have no memories of getting diarrhea from it, but maybe someone else did.
A. Elliot's Lesson Imparted: Don't forget that tomorrow is the kickoff for the Happy Birth Days Carnival. It will run for a whole week.
I agree with Jen (and you, of course) - interactive projects teach our kids so much more than just rote memorization. It's tough to find that balance between safety and experimentation in a school setting, I'm sure, but they just don't even seem to be TRYING! Thank you for participating!!
With my first triathlon tomorrow morning, I have been trying to be particularly careful in my eating and sleeping habits this week. I have also tried hard to manage my progressively escalating case of nerves as the week went on. So you might expect that I would have gone to sleep as early as possible yesterday. Almost as if I were in denial about my need for rest, I did the opposite, and enjoyed what was for me an unprecedented social opportunity that I could not refuse.
We had a fun evening typing talking and talking and talking. Plus there was fabulous food. We were the last ones to leave the restaurant. Hmmm...I bet my triathlon training buddy and our trainer would have something to say about that. If they ask me about it, I may need to deny it. Afterwards, we went to a bar. Relax! I was willing to stay out late for friends, but I did deny myself alcohol in order to avoid derailing my training and triathlon prep. Actually, I had such a good time that I really feel it helped me to relax before my big event tomorrow. The Big Giraffe also denied me the consequences of my late night by generously encouraging me to sleep in today! I certainly have something to say about his kindness.
I have enjoyed what SMID and Jenn have to say for almost as long as I have been blogging, and there was no denying from our prior meetings that SMID is a fabulous person. I quickly felt that I could say the same about Jenn. I have to admit that as much as I enjoyed getting to know Jen and getting to know SMID better, what most stuck with me today, other than just having a great time last night of course, was what Jenn had to say about Life in the Netherlands.
Of course, I had to find a metaphor in what Jenn described to apply to my own life. For example, Jenn described the way she shops by going from specialty store to specialty store like the cheese store, the nut store, and the bakery, just the way things used to be in the US before supermarkets became so prevalent, except that they bike everywhere. So today I didn't just go to the supermarket, but made a stop at a specialty store, Trader Joe's, to stoke my yogurt craving as well. Technically, I haven't ridden my bike in two days, but I will be on it bright and early tomorrow for the first leg of my triathlon. Yeah, not as nice and neat as in the Netherlands, but if you add biking and choosing the right store for each purchase... Of course, in the Netherlands, an employee would have started pulling together my usual order for me when I walked into the stores. Trader Joe's didn't even have my normal order; they were out of the cheaper Greek yogurt. I silently rejoiced at the "excuse" to buy the more expensive Greek yogurt that tastes twice as good.
Tomorrow's my big day. I'm all packed and just about ready to go to bed. I'm definitely nervous although not nearly as nervous as I would have thought. Apparently a night off was just the ticket.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When preparing for something stressful, there is something to be said about denial.
Good Luck! I'm seriously in awe of you guys...you've worked really hard to meet this goal. An added bonus of the whole process is that you're modeling goal-setting/achievement for your kids at the same time that you got to do something for your kids...who could ask for more?!
I've hosted a handful of showers in the ten years (has it really been that long?) since I've graduated from college. This by no means makes me any kind of expert, particularly since each shower has been pretty different. I've hosted showers at a restaurant with just a few guests, at other people's homes with a lot of guests, and at my current home during the holiday season because my good dishes, which I love, are Christmas china.
Sunday, I threw a shower with two other women for a friend who's due with her second child next month. We decided to have a tea. I was quite excited about it. About once a year, I decide to embark on a journey of self-discovery. It leaves me feeling like I know myself a little bit better and have given myself a full mental workout. I think the everyday word for this is baking. That's right. Before packing for this journey going to the grocery store, I conjured up images of hairnets, safety goggles, bio-hazard suits and Bunsen burners. Maybe that was a little extreme. I did announce to the Big Giraffe though importantly that I was off to bake. He inquired what I was baking first, and I announced sandwiches. He looked puzzled. I clarified that baking to me means having to deal with anything that makes a mess on my counters. Placing school projects and mail on the counter also falls into that category. Wow, I really do have a lot of experience with baking!
I had fun with my baking. That's why I like to keep it as the rare treat: it allows to me fully enjoy the experience leaving me wanting to do it again, but not anytime soon. That and the fact that I munch on the extras and thus always leave a baking session feel slightly ill and exhausted.
I'll leave you in suspense regarding the menu for a moment longer. We used several people's tea cups and saucers so that every guest had a unique cup. We also used four different tea pots including mine. In addition to coffee, an assortment of teas, punch and water with limes, we had the following menu straight out of Barefoot Contessa Parties! cookbook which I definitely will be adding to my Amazon wish list.
Wow impressive table! That's a lot of effort you've put into it.
...but can you explain to me what exactly is a "shower". For me it is simply a bathroom activity, but clearly it has other meanings as well :p. What makes a shower different from a party or guests coming over?
Hey Goofball - A shower is when you "shower" a woman with gifts. Generally, these are when someone is going to have a baby (a baby shower helps them get all the baby gear they need) and a bridal shower (to help equip the bride to set up her new home). Please note that showers usually denote that women are resposible for providing gifts to their female friends, while the guy who is usually on part of the reason that a shower is thrown does not require his friends to give gifts.... (Of course, generally the men do not get to attend the party, either.) Many women, however, are not crabby bitches like me and more appreciate the tradition because it allows them to bond with other women and support them, which is the nice part of the event.
Anyway, Alex, you did a great job with the shower! Everything sounds and looks scrumptious.
@Suzanne, thanks for the info!!! Bridal or baby showers do not exist in Belgium. We just bring a gift when we go to the wedding or when we visit the baby.
That table looks gorgeous and delicious. This post was so funny, I love the way you talk about cooking as if it's a science experiment. Looks like everything turned out great. Maybe you'll try it again next year then?
So much learning happens in preschool and that's just for the parents. If I look back at my older son's (OS) almost two years of preschool, I realize that I've come a long way, learning appropriate parental attire for the open house, how to spy on my child from the parking lot, appropriate birthday party etiquette, what gifts to give teachers, and of course the rules around preschool Valentine's Day parties. Forgot knowing letters, numbers and colors, learning the whole social system of preschool is education in and of itself!
Yesterday I learned the most important lesson of all. This is really big so you might want to get a pen and paper. Way important, right? Don't worry, I will explain why it is so important.
When OS was a baby, one of the playgroup hostesses bought a tub of cookie dough from a neighbor's kid as part of a school fundraiser. The cookies were pretty good. Based on that recollection, I decided to participate this year when OS's preschool did the cookie dough fundraiser. We really haven't done very much with fundraisers, and, if it's a choice between buying wrapping paper or cookie dough...well...that's not a hard choice for me. The order form had a list of different types of cookie dough., but the most important choice was whether to get break away cookies or a tub of cookie dough. I chose the tub of cookie dough of course. This was my type of baking. I immediately conjured images of my boys lovingly scooping out balls of dough together. I would ruffle their hair and the three of us would laugh just because we were all so happy. I even had images of us using cookie cutters to cut the cookies into fun shapes. Yeah, I don't know where I was going with that one; Reese's Peanut Butter Cup cookies probably don't mold into elephants too well. Frequent readers will be surprised to learn that there was no fireplace in this vision; it is April after all!
I was surprised when I picked OS up from school because there were boxes and boxes of break away cookie dough but only a few scattered boxes of the tubs. That should have been a sign right there. We picked up our cookie dough and, since I have been trying to eat better, particularly since my first triathlon is around the corner, I did the reasonable thing and suggested bringing the cookie dough to a playdate that had been planned for the next day. The kids were excited to make cookies. However, as soon as we let them start scooping out the dough, we realized the break away cookies would have been better.
First of all, one metal spoon snapped, even though I could have sworn the dough was completely defrosted. Second, the kids all wanted to scoop at the same time. Third, the older kids were better at scooping the dough than the little kids. As a result, my younger son's cookies were tiny. Of course, he got bent out of shape when I tried to make them bigger. It seemed like a no win situation. No one would have wanted the microscopic cookies when they burned, and OS would have been the first one to want one of the bigger cookies...made by one of the older kids. In fact, once the cookies were baked, the kids all argued over who got the bigger cookies. Break away cookies are all the same size. The other mom and I looked at each other and at the same time said "break away cookies." Then we prepared several cookies for ourselves on a separate cookie sheet. Hey, I saw how the kids cookies were handled!
The cookies were still delicious. Like anything else, with YS I'll be better prepared.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Buy break-away-cookies for the school fundraiser not the tubs of cookie dough.
Oh, I love tubs of cookie dough. When my sister was the director of a child care program, Husband and I bought at least two tubs per sale season. Then Dana would drive them to my parents' house in Chicago from where she lives in Iowa, and the next time I was in town, I'd bring them back to NYC on the plane with me. By the time I got home, the dough usually defrosted, but we'd re-freeze it, and the cookies baked weird. Still, they were super delicious to eat!
I once bought a tub of cookie dough from my daughter's school, and when we opened it, they were in individual discs. I was actually disappointed not to be able to scoop, but I guess I should count myself lucky.
Suzanne got me hooked on something this weekend when I visited her in NYC. No, I can pretty much guarantee that it's not what your thinking! Actually, it's probably the furthest thing from what you're thinking.
One of my challenges in trying to eat well, lose weight, be healthy, be the perfect mom and wife, and one day rule the world all the while being blissfully happy, is trying to find satisfying snacks. That's right, the perfect snack is the secret to guaranteed success and happiness! Seriously, it's hard to find a snack that is healthy and tastes good enough that I would actually choose it over a brownie or cookie. Even if I don't have either of those favorite items in my house, which according to the Big Giraffe has been particularly true the past 10 months, I still am thinking that I would rather be eating them than the banana or pear that I am eating. I think perhaps if someone did find this perfect combination, they really would be able to rule the world!
I know you're all waiting with baited breath to hear what this fabulous find is. Brace yourself. You should also brace yourself because this is about as close to a "recipe" as you'll probably ever read on this blog!
It's non-fat plain Greek style yogurt with a teaspoon or two of jam in it. Shocking right? Suzanne had mentioned in her other blog Live Active Cultures that she really likes Greek yogurt. I had also had Greek yogurt before and enjoyed it. However I had never had the plain non-fat yogurt before in the big vat. What's the difference?
The difference is the serving size. One serving size of the non-fat Greek yogurt is a full cup whereas the Stonyville yogurts, which are what I usually eat, are only 6 ounces. In terms of Weight Watchers points, you can have a full tablespoon of jam in your one cup serving (three teaspoons of jam equal one tablespoon. Don't be embarrassed, I didn't know it until a few years ago when I was at one of those dinner assembly places) and it's exactly the same number of points as the 6 oz Chocolate Underground yogurt. It also tastes amazing because, unlike regular yogurt, Greek yogurt is double strained so it's really thick like sour cream. Yes, even the non-fat yogurt. Between the larger quantity and the thicker consistency, it also makes me feel full, thus helping me to avoid a second round of potentially more savory but less healthy snacks.
A little weird fact about me (one of many!) is that I don't like yogurt with fruit skins in it. That pretty much eliminates most of the fruit yogurts for me. Good jam doesn't have the skins in it, at least not the kind I buy, so this yogurt and jam combo tastes like a fruit yogurt without the skin.
One last tip, don't use your kids PB&J jam or any other jam that congeals easily, because nothing will push you toward a brownie more quickly than a congealed yogurt mix. Personally, if the brownie is home baked or on my counter, this new yogurt is going to stay in the fridge, but the lure of the yogurt is strong enough to keep me from hitting the road for a late night bakery run. In lieu of that brownie, well it's a really great snack.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Non-fat plain Greek style yogurt with a teaspoon or two of jam makes an excellent snack.
I got mine at Trader Joe's because I knew they had it there. I have to check out the regular grocery store. I may have missed it because it's a 16 ounce container and I was looking for it in the 6 ounce container sections. Trader Joe's also has flavored individual serving Greek yogurts which taste good too and are around 6 ounces. I still prefer the plain with jam though.
I love this suggestion! I am going to get some of that the next time I'm at Trader Joe's. My stomach is rumbling as I write this, but there's no greek style yogurt in the house, so it looks like a cookie for me again tonight . . .
You can find Greek yogurt in most grocery stores, with the bigger tubs of yogurt. I always look at it and mull it over then go for the old stand-by Yoplait...no longer, my friend. I am so excited to try this yummy treat! (During the time I'm breastfeeding, I may even splurge on the full-fat variety!)
Being a mommy-to-be (5 weeks or so) there are so many questions and doubts about being a parent. There's such a large amount of online support is awesome! My favorite right now is www.ourbabysteps.com because it is not only focused on moms but also on dads so you get two different perspectives. My husband loves this site as well!
If I am reading your blog correctly, I am well on my way to ruling the world! Hurray!
I just bought a tub of Fage at the grocery store tonight. I can't wait to eat it. I'm so glad that you are enjoying my yogurt "recipe" and passed on the good word!
Here's a secret confession of mine: I love buying Peeps. You know those sugary marshmallow type chicks? I don't actually like eating them, but I really enjoy buying them. I think it's because when I was little, my grandmother used to keep them in a big glass jar on her coffee table at Easter. Normally she wasn't the type of grandma who baked cookies or played dolls with me, but she did have an endless supply of Peeps. They're just so cute. Plus rumor may have it that I just might have participated in a Peep experiment at work after college where a Peep was microwaved to see the effect. Rumor has it that the Peep just kept getting bigger and bigger like the Marshmallow Man in Ghostbusters.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not out of control with my Peep purchasing. I just like to buy a package every year. The problem is that since I don't like eating them, well they just sit there. After my husband, the Big Giraffe, and I got married and the Peeps had been sitting on the counter for months, he gently suggested I throw them out. I just couldn't do it. Plus Peeps taste the best when they're stale according to everyone in my family. Who knows, maybe if they were a few years stale I would like them. I moved them to the refrigerator so they were out of sight. That's where they stayed along with the Peeps from the next year and the year after that. My husband started to complain that he felt like the Peeps were being well, Peeping Peeps I guess and looking at him every time he opened the fridge. I never really saw them just like he doesn't see the recycling left in the kitchen sink. Finally we replaced our refrigerator, no not because of the Peeps, and he suggested a Peeps ban in our house.
My older son (OS) is really into anything that is sugary and artificially colored. You know what I was thinking when he was describing what type of Easter candy he hopes to get: Peeps! That is the exact description of a Peep. Plus the ban is really just for the Big Giraffe and me. The Easter Bunny was not included in the ban. It is possible that there may be some Peeps hidden from my husband the kids somewhere in the car house. I mean they're green after all, and we have never had green ones in our house.
If OS doesn't like them now, he very well may like them when they are stale enough. My only fear is that if they kids don't like them, that they'll end up in the toilet. No, literally I mean the toilet. Today's experiment, conducted while OS was allegedly using the bathroom,was seeing whether or not the washable dogs my parents got them for the bathtub will also work in the toilet. I can see them trying to decide if a Peep will dissolve in the toilet. That said, today's experiment has caused me to institute an "open door bathroom policy" until OS demonstrates a less playful approach to excretion. Unlike the dogs, I think the Peeps will end up in the trash and not the Saturday Box*.
*Box for toys that end up in the toilet or left out when I'm cooking despite numerous threats not to and are thus placed in a box to be redeemed on Saturday.
I think I like the way peeps look more so than how they taste, they are very cute but something akin to shoveling a spoonful of sugar in my mouth! :o) (Plus they shed sugar all over the house, who knows what they'd do to the toilet?!)
Yesterday the Big Giraffe and I went out for a much needed date night. Yesterday had just been tiring day between an early morning "debate" with the Big Giraffe and my adventures at the vets office. In fact, between that and Aunt Flow making all sorts of demands on my energy despite not yet making up her mind as to whether or not she's going to visit this month, I felt drained. In fact, when the home repair man came, I didn't even hear him because I had fallen asleep after putting the boys down for a nap. That apparently worked out well because unbeknownst to me, the repair man had pulled out his pillow and napped in our driveway (in his van, not literally on the ground). After about 45 minutes, he rang the doorbell, and that time I heard it. As he was leaving, he told me I looked terrible and should go take another nap. Thanks! There's nothing like someone telling you that you look like crap. Although, since the boys were still asleep perhaps it wasn't a bad idea. By the time the date rolled around, I was feeling back to myself.
On the recommendation of a few friends, the Big Giraffe and I went to a great tavern in Sturbridge called the Ugly Duckling. The ambiance was fantastic, as was the food. The only thing that was weird, was that there was an unknown object on the Big Giraffe's plate. At first he thought that someone had given him a present because the object was a small sack-like thing with a ribbon tied on it. He asked me if I knew what it was. I was as intrigued as he was. I told him to try and cut off a piece of it. Surely it was food as it was on his plate, right? I mean no one would wrap up a new iPod or a diamond and put it on a dinner plate. Alright maybe for an engagement, but if someone was proposing to him, well then he and I both had bigger problems than whether or not a gift belonged on a dinner plate. This would be a problem, right Big Giraffe?
His knife wouldn't cut through the object. He then went ahead and untied it. The packaging fell open and there was still an unknown object in it. I thought perhaps it was a garlic bulb, but I couldn't tell for sure because it was dark in there....and I had drunk a glass of wine. He decided to forget about it. Of course I just couldn't let it go and so when the waitress came by, I threw my pride to the wind or perhaps just off the table and asked her. So can you guess what it was? I'll give you a hint: BG had fish for dinner. Drum roll please. It was a lemon! It was put in a fabric bag so that he could squeeze the juice out without worrying about the seeds. I had no pride anymore so I thanked her. The Big Giraffe informed both of us that he doesn't squeeze lemon on fish. Nice cover, BG. Too bad the package was completely untied.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: If you want to be able to squeeze fresh lemon juice onto food without worrying about seeds, place it in a porous fabric bag.
I can't say that I've ever had lemon served that way before. I'm a bit relieved though, I thought you were going to say it was the fishes eyeball or something! :)
If your Aunt Flow's demands and possible pending visit are draining your energy, you have the right and obligation to yourself and your family to inform her of that. Also to have her visit at a time that is more convenient and less exhausting to you.
That's too funny! And I get such happy feelings hearing about places like Sturbridge again. Maybe I'll have to make a trip to MA this summer or something and say hi to you and SMID, etc. ;-)
Thanks for all the comments! Unfortunately, although being on the Pill does help with my monthly visits from Aunt Flow also known as my period, a few times a year the visits hit me really hard. I'll get bad cramps and feel exhausted. All the visits at this point are incredibly light if at all so I really can't complain too much.
That is hilarious! I LOVE the lemon bags! Nothing worse than lemon seeds in your fist...sometimes they look like little shower caps that just fit over half a lemon. J and I will have to try out that place!
Ah! I'm so pleased with myself. I actually knew that it was a lemon before I finished reading your post. Understand that this observation is coming from the gal who considers eating frosting directly from the container while sitting in bed a gourmet meal. -Steph
Saturday was my great aunt's funeral. The nicest aspect of the wake and funeral, was that it was exactly what she had wanted. To me, that's all that really matters. While there were parts of both that I was uncomfortable with, I know that the event was about her and not me.
Since I was a pallbearer, we had to be there pretty early. Our older son (OS) came with me to pay respects to Aunt Julie. I was impressed with how well he did. A short while later, the funeral director led everyone in prayers. It was very quick.
The rest of the "white glove club," which consisted of my brother and cousins, and I had our duties to attend to, so the Big Giraffe was solely in charge of the boys. We had agreed ahead of time that if we thought for whatever reason that they wouldn't be comfortable with the funeral, he would leave with them. I wasn't surprised later in the church when I didn't see them. I had heard some laughter at the beginning, but apparently the Big Giraffe took them out the car where they were much happier. Again, the service was really quick, although apparently the Big Giraffe had not felt time was passing quickly enough when he had the boys in the back of the church.
They stayed in the car too when we went to the cemetery. This was actually one part of the event with which I was uncomfortable. I personally didn't want the boys to come in the mausoleum where Aunt Julie was going to be buried. This type of mausoleum has many wings each filled with the remains of different families. The coffins are placed in a drawer, and the drawer is sealed. A plaque with the name and critical dates is placed on the "drawer." I have terrible memories of this place from when I was around OS's age. I remember thinking it was incredibly creepy that people were buried in the walls. Since my great aunt Val had already announced that she wanted everyone to tour the mausoleum, I thought it was better for the boys to avoid the whole situation. I know, I know...just because I was scared of something as a child doesn't mean my sons will be. By the same token, it still wasn't something that the Big Giraffe and I were prepared for our children to experience yet. Frankly I didn't see any benefit to them or to anyone else for having them there. Plus anytime I'm agitated or uncomfortable, the boys unsurprisingly pick up on it. The Big Giraffe had no angst about spending another fifteen minutes in the car with the them.
The festivities ended with a family gathering, lunch at a restaurant called New Warsaw (although my cousin and I swear it used to be Old Warsaw). My family is Polish. This is where we always gathered for family reunions. My cousins and I all dislike it because it gives us really bad gas (and sometimes more than gas) because we're not used to eating authentic Polish food. My parents and aunts and uncles all love it. So does the Big Giraffe. I was just grateful that I didn't have to get on an airplane with him and the boys, who also really enjoyed it, afterwards. I had been calling the place Old Diarrhea, but I guess I'll have to start calling it New Diarrhea. The Big Giraffe said it gives new meaning to Chicago's nickname Windy City. Plus, you also get charged $2 if you waste food by not finishing the food on your plate. (We didn't actually see this happen, but they have signs all around the buffet describing the policy.)
We had a pleasant flight home. In fact it was the smoothest flight we have ever had with the boys, in turn leading to a relatively calm and peaceful airport experience back in Providence. Tomorrow we will be back to our usual routine.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Wasting food may be costly.
I think it's always a good idea to go with your gut when it comes to how to deal with your children in all circumstances. I'm glad your Great Aunt got the wake/funeral she would have wanted.
Sounds like you and I had very similar weekends! We had a wake and funeral also, not a family member of mine, but of a close friend. It is so hard with kids, knowing what to do and trying to anticipate their reactions. My youngest is 12, and he asked my husband and I if it would be alright if he didn't have to go up to the front to view the deceased. We told him that was absolutely fine. I was really proud of him, he gave his condolences and shook hands, etc. I guess the only way they learn these things is to experience them. So sorry about your Aunt Julie. It's too bad you weren't in Chicago for a happier occasion, we could have met up for a drink! I surely needed one this weekend as I suspect you did too!
I just love how you and BG respect the kids and talk through expectations, needs, etc. And you were right to let the boys miss the internment. It is still a scary idea to grown-ups!
Last week I took my boys to the play center called Noodle Noggin and Bean that I mentioned in my last post. We met a friend and her two year old son there. All three boys had a blast. Before I knew it, lunch time had arrived. The boys were all cranky. My friend mentioned earlier that she was thinking of picking up McDonald's because she needed to get her oil changed after the playdate. When my kids started to lose it, I mentioned that I thought I would take the boys to McDonald's since we were already out and about and, hey we were already out together as a treat so why not go for a real bang? I don't remember who asked whom, but we decided to all go to McDonald's together. Shocking, right?
Actually it was. I have to say that there has been a consistent pattern to most of the playdates I've had over the past 4 years.
Mom and kid(s) arrive between 9 am and 9:30 am.
Playtime until 11 am.
11-12 lunch and more playtime.
The playdate ends, and the kids take a nap.
Sometimes the playdate will be part of an outing. The schedule is pretty much the same except we pack our own lunches and eat at the outing location. Sometimes I've met other moms and their kids at a restaurant for lunch, but there had previously been only one friend whose family joined mine at McDonald's for lunch.
Honestly I'm not really sure why this is. It turned out to be one of my older son's (OS) all-time favorite playdates. I actually could relax eating lunch knowing that it wasn't a big deal if anything spilled or if my kids couldn't sit still. We all enjoyed the food. It was quick and easy. That made me think some more about why this is only the second friend I've done this with.
I happened to catch Suzanne on the phone once we were home and the kids were down for their post-playdate nap quiet time. She referred me to an article by Ayelet Waldman in New York Magazine called Why the Bad Mommy Brigade. Don't recognize the author's name? She received a ton of criticism for saying she loved her husband more than her children. I remember even having a huge discussion about her in my moms group. The article was definitely interesting, and I recommend it.
I definitely felt a connection to some of her ideas, but I think there are several reasons why I have been on so few multi-family McDonalds outings.
I truly try to make it a special treat for my kids (hmm...that sounds a little defensive.)
It's one thing for others including me to admit that we've taken our kids to McDonald's for that special rare treat, but when you go with someone else, suddenly there's accountability. Suddenly someone knows how special that special treat truly is. The implication is that special means rare, but it is no longer as vague and unclear a term. After all, special could mean twice a year or twice a week.
Seriously, whenever I've been in McDonald's, it's been filled with moms and their kids. In fact sometimes I've even been a little envious of those there playdates where the kids are clearly having a good time playing and the moms are clearly having a nice time chatting while watching the kids. No one looks stressed out. Yet, despite the fact that I always run into moms I know at the Y, the park, and the grocery store, only once have I run into a mom I know at McDonald's. Yet, I don't know many moms who don't admit that they take their kids there. I have heard moms say that it's germy, but I think that Y is right up there too. I'm thinking the drive-thru line.
This post isn't as deep as Waldman's article to say the least. I didn't agree that we necessarily feel condemned all the time as bad moms or that we embrace the idea of bad motherhood in rebellion. Of course this is completely subjective and it depends on who you're around. After all, I have written a lot about how I felt isolated because I wasn't able to breastfeed. Some women only know moms who bottle feed. Personally, I find that many of the moms I know both in the real world and in the blogosphere are able to say that they aren't the perfect parents. I find them willing to share stories illustrating that their kids aren't perfect. I think that parenting for many of us is like anything else in life; we're just somewhere in the middle. Some days we're great, and some days we're not. Or we're really good at reading stories and doing pretend play but hate doing crafts. Personally I'm a member of the Can't Bake Club. Around here, we're a rare breed. I've had the funniest conversations with people when they've admitted that they order their kids' birthday cakes: Member of the Group (MOTG): I had to order a cake because I had the flu last week. AE: I've always ordered cakes. MG: Yeah, I have too!
Even my McDonald's visits comes in waves. We might frequent it a couple of times in a short periods and then we don't go again for a long time. So in case any of you are scoring my McDonald's treats, let me just help you along. Sadly, my great aunt past away a few days ago. She was 96, and her death was long and drawn out. It's a relief to everyone that she is at peace and we're at peace. So tomorrow I will be taking my first solo plane trip with both boys. We're headed out to Chicago for the week. The Big Giraffe will be joining us for the funeral and flying back with us despite what he thinks is a funny joke that he was unable to get on our flight. Our flight is at 11 am. You can bet your bottom dollar that my kids will be carrying Happy Meals on board...with those cheap toys too! Hopefully my kids will get at least 15 minutes out of them and hey, to me that's worth it right there.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Quality Parenting is subjective
And quite frankly, if my boys get what they always do at Mickey D's, which is four chicken nuggets, apples with dipping sauce, and choc. milk, I really don't see the harm in it once or twice a month.
I hope the boys get some good stuff in their happy meals.
We don't go to McDonalds very often, simply because we can't really afford to go out to eat very often! I wish we could go more. Of course it is also kind of a pain for me to take the kids. It's hard to break out of the old routine you know.
I definitely don't think that taking kids to McDonalds makes you a bad parent!
Good parenting is totally subjective. And I think whatever works for your family is what works. If your kids are happy and healthy and good citizens (I mean this in a very general sense of the word) and you're not stressed out 24/7, then you're fine. ;-)
Yesterday the Big Giraffe, the boys and I all went to the New England Aquarium. We finally made it to the bottom floor of the jellyfish exhibit. Attempts during previous visits had always failed due to the lure of the penguins in the other part of the aquarium. Armed with an even better line than "Because I said so" (which in all honesty I've been trying albeit not always successfully not to say as both the Big Giraffe and I hated that line as kids,), I declared "Because it's my birthday" to get a sulky older son (OS) to reluctantly come into the exhibit with me. Then we had to drag him out because he enjoyed it so much.
OS has been excited for a long while about my birthday cake. At some point he decided that I needed to have a Little Mermaid cake for my birthday. Seeing as I've never had a Little Mermaid cake before, and it was so important to OS, I thought it was a fabulous idea. After dinner, OS could barely contain his excitement. With some help from the Big Giraffe, OS carefully placed each plastic princess on the cake (Ariel was one of four princesses). OS made sure to keep me updated on the progress of the princess placement. Finally the big moment came. All three giraffes sang to me, and I blew out the candles. I could see both boys gazing at the princesses. I gave one to each of them and they acted like it was the best gift. Then they proceeded to use the princess, who were hollow under their skirts to scoop up their cake and eat it.
The princesses also came on the ride to preschool today, but waited in the car. They subsequently had quite a make believe story with the various plastic sharks, whales, squids, and other sea creatures that we have acquired ever since OS became obsessed with ocean life this past summer. My concern about these trendy kids cakes has been that after the candles are blown out, the overpriced cheap plastic toys on the cake are discarded. Not a problem in my house. These princesses are one of the boys' favorite gifts these past fews months. That and the free dog leash from the vet.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: As a parent, you may not choose your birthday cake, but you can choose to keep the last piece.
I absolutely loved this post, Alex. I sense what a real joy you get from parenting. And I love the idea of the kids scooping up their cake with the princesses.
I have a favorite memory from the N.E. Aquarium, too. When I was in grad school in Boston, my DH (who was then my BF) took a friend and I there soon after I had arrived. It was my first big "evening out" in Boston. My friend was from Japan and it was her first big evening out, too. So... as we were discussing the fish, the discussion turned to sushi, and we ended up having a wonderful sushi dinner, with everything chosen by my friend. It was great fun, if a little weird (having just seen them swimming and all).
And now I feel compelled to have a princess cake for my birthday in a month or two, when I will turn *gasp* 42 and become officially a decade older than you! Will you come for my party?
What a great day and the jelly fish exhibit sounds fantastic. We have nothing like an aquarium here so that sounds like a great thing to be able to do regularly.
The cake story is priceless. Keep this story for a great one to tell at their weddings!
at is the most hilarious 32nd birthday cake ever. I wish I had been there to eat it with you. Glad you had a wonderful, jellyfish and Disney princess filled birthday!
Thank you to Lara for providing such a wonderful start to the new year with her Blog Exchange post giving out "Best New" awards for 2007. I hope to continue the upbeat tone, by posting about how much fun my family has had over the last two days. (The Big Giraffe keeps claiming that today was the best day of the year, so far.)
Yesterday we went to First Night Worcester with two other families. They say pessimists are never disappointed. I don't want to call parents of small kids pessimists, but it is fortunately difficult to disappoint people whose only expectations is that their kids will inevitably have at least a half a dozen meltdowns. To describe us as pleasantly surprised would be an understatement! We really enjoyed First Night. We saw an animal show (not with giraffes), watched some ballet dancing, and listened to Caribbean music for kids. It was definitely worth the $20 that the Big Giraffe and I paid. That is not to say that my children did not have meltdowns, but they were manageable and they came between moments of great enjoyment. On a complete dorky note, we also got to use the Garmin GPS that my parents got us for the holidays, even though we already knew the route. We just wanted to try it out.
We then went out for an amazing meal!
Prime rib
Yorkshire pudding
Quiche
Green beans
Pecan, pear and Gorgonzola salad
Garlic mashed potatoes
Fruit salad
Chocolate cheesecake
Chocolate fondue with fruit and marshmallows
I'm getting hungry again just thinking about it! Of course there was also wine and pink champagne to toast in the New Year at 8:30 pm.
Where on earth could three families take five children on New Year's Eve for that kind of feast? Well, when I said that we went out, I didn't actually mean out to a restaurant. I meant out of our house. One of the families hosted and somehow put it together so well in advance that everything was ready to eat very quickly after our return from First Night.
In addition to the wonderful hospitality and company enjoyed at the home of friends, the other good news about not being at a restaurant is that there is a lot more room for kids to act up. The better news is that they again had far fewer meltdowns than I expected. Each child took his turn (yes not only were there five children, but they were all boys) causing some measure of trouble, but given the amount of time spent walking in the cold, the stimulation of all the shows, and the amount of excitement, I think they all did really well. However, we ended up turning the GPS off on the way home to let them sleep peacefully once we confirmed that we have been using the proper route when previously traversing the route.
It really was a fabulous way to end 2007...followed by a fantastic beginning to 2008!
This morning we headed out to meet a co-worker of the Big Giraffe's (whom he has been insisting that I would enjoy meeting for several months), her husband, and their three kids. (Yes out with five kids two days in a row.) We went to a theater where we were able to sit in very comfortable chairs, socialize for an hour over food from an extensive menu, and then watch Water Horse. This was not your typical movie theater.
Why didn't we watch Alvin and the Chipmunks, you might ask. Well for two reasons:
My older son (OS) and I really wanted to see a movie about an "underwater horse" and everyone else rode along
Alvin was sold out
More information on the venue and the experience may be found on my post at New England Mamas, but I will say that for this trip we really needed the GPS!
For the second day in a row, the children's behavior was far better than expected, and the Big Giraffe's prediction that I would like his colleague was correct. I really enjoyed meeting and spending time with the entire family. I also enjoyed the movie, but it was definitely scarier than I would have liked for my kids. That's not to say that they didn't enjoy it, but there were parts that did scare my kids, my older son in particular. It would probably be better on DVD where I could have fast forwarded through the scary scenes, like when the water horse was trying to bite people and when the soldiers were firing artillery at what they believed was an attack by the German navy. (The movie took place in Scotland during World War II.)
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Ending one year with pre-existing friends and starting another with new friends makes for an enjoyable and memorable transition.
It sounds as if you've started 2008 in a great way :) We thought about First Night this year, but thought it might be more trouble than it's worth, but I think we'll give it a shot next year. (Especially after your wonderful review!)
Thanks for stopping by. I've been a total flake about blog surfing the last few months - I'm glad I didn't lose you!
When I was in third grade, we got to make "gingerbread houses." This involved each child bringing in a box of graham crackers, a can of frosting, and a bunch of different candies to decorate our houses. My dad was in charge of buying the candy for me, and I remember my decorations consisted of a giant bag of Good N' Plenty. We spent a couple of afternoons working on it. By the time we were finished, I had lost interest in the house, but I did enjoy eating construction materials throughout the process.
At some point, I learned that gingerbread houses were made out of gingerbread and not graham crackers. No, Big Giraffe, that wasn't today. However, I never attempted to build a real gingerbread house. It just seemed like too much effort. A couple of years ago, my aunt was participating in her yearly tradition of baking gingerbread for gingerbread houses. She gets really into it and has the special pans, makes the dough from scratch and carefully decorates each house with a theme. She mentioned that she also uses wrapped candy, so that people can pick out what they want when they want it without creating any worry about dirt or germs. I asked the obvious question: well, what about the gingerbread? My aunt explained to me that actual gingerbread houses don't taste very good. First of all, they have to be fairly sturdy, requiring a distasteful amount of molasses in them. Second, after sitting out for a couple days they get stale; a baked item that looks good but that no one actually samples to find out that it tastes terrible.
That's when I realized that I had missed my calling. Really, it's the ideal dessert I could bake. Can you imagine how relieved I would have been if I showed up at the cookie exchange carrying gingerbread houses with wrapped candy on them for everyone and told people that these baked goods were for display and candy grazing only? I might not have been less stressed out about the process, because let's face facts - making 8 gingerbread houses is a lot worse than making 16 dozen cookies!
So you would think then that this year I would make my own gingerbread. That would be a fairly reasonable assumption, except that it just seems like a lot of work when I could just buy a kit at the grocery store. I actually think that buying was the right choice. My older son (OS) loved decorating his house, and he was so proud of the finished product. What he didn't love was waiting the fifteen minutes for the roof to set. In fact, he found the delay torturous. That's when I realized that he couldn't care less that the house wasn't constructed out of real gingerbread. In fact, he was better off with a kit. There's no way he would have patiently waited for the gingerbread to bake.
Of course that's not to say that I won't some day make gingerbread. It's just going to be when we can make it together and more importantly when it's something that he wants to do. And if it just so happens that he never wants to do it, well I won't lose any sleep over it. Like I said, when I was little I loved the graham crackers and the canned frosting.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Many times the easy way out works out the best.
I am laughing my butt off at the idea of a Good and Plenty-covered gingerbread house.
And wrapped candies seem a little germ obsessive to me. But of course you're talking to a woman who drank cactus punch from a plastic bucket in a parking lot of a church in rural Mexico...
12 dozen cookies later, here's what I learned, or better yet remembered, about why I don't like to bake:
All the washing! I had to wash down the counter tops for the millionth time today, tie back my hair, wash the new cookie sheets, wash out the stand mixer because it hadn't been used since the dark ages, wash out the cookie press and inspect to make sure that it hadn't been used unbeknownst to me for playdough, rewash the cookie press, wash the cookie racks, sterilize my hands, and make sure that I was "defurred" all before even opening the bag of flour.
I am a perfectionist, and it drove me batty when my cookies didn't look right. I made the worst ones by leaning on the cookie press too hard, doubling the width of the cookies. The next worst ones were missing a leaf that I had knocked off. Fortunately this didn't happen often. Unfortunately, I am neurotic so I would insist on redoing these cookies.
The smell of the cookies is now making me nauseated. Perhaps if I baked more I would get rid of my sweet tooth. Now there's a thought!
The cleanup.
I had this big image of cute little Christmas wreaths decorated with rainbow ball sprinkles to look like ornaments. All the better to nibble on when listening to Christmas carols on the radio. They would be the perfect size to dunk in a glass of milk or a cup of hot chocolate. You would look at them and be overwhelmed with the feeling of Christmas. Memories of your best Christmas ever would flood your mind. Maybe I'm getting a little too carried away here. Unfortunately, the wreaths proved to be incredibly fragile and instead of being worthy of a glass of milk, they were worthy of a gourmet baker. Since I'm not quite the gourmet baker, I used the cookie press's flower plate. I still put the sprinkles on them to make them look festive and therefore flood the minds of the consumers with memories of the best Christmas ever. Alright maybe so they would think "Hey I remember using these sprinkles to decorate cookies when I was a kid!"
One really great benefit of these cookies (unlike the recipe I originally chose) was that I was able to fit about 35 cookies on each cookie sheet. No, the official name of the recipe was not "The Lazy Cookie-Swapper's Cookies," but the recipe was clearly designed for the lazy person to make for a cookie swap! Of course I still ended up making 3 batches. I don't know what size cookies the recipe assumed when they said that each batch of dough would make 4 dozen cookies, because even though cookies don't get much smaller than what I made, I had to make three batches to get to eight dozen cookies. Alright that does include the batch that I burned. I was going to give them to the dog, but seeing as he's on special prescription low fat dog food, I decided to save them for the Big Giraffe. I'm kidding!
A Elliot's Lesson Learned:The point of a cookie swap is to swap for cookies that are better than yours.
I am laughing out loud here to your lesson learned! Too funny and too true :-)
But your cookies look yummy and I would be happy to get those in a cookie exchange.
I just posted the recipe and some pictures of nanaimo bar but I am guessing you won't be up for making that! It's pretty much fool proof though and oh so delicious
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
that all sounds like a very cool weekend!