Eat. Live. Laugh. and sometimes shop!

Books that inspire.

2014-07-21T06:00:00.000-05:00

If there is one thing I will never deny my children {let's suppose it's just one thing} it is a book, or rather, books in abundance. Books are literally falling off the shelves in our house. I love books and, luckily, so does my duo. Sometimes they find a series or book on their own and become deeply entranced with it {as with Rick Riordian's Demigod series}. Sometimes I suggest we read something together {as with the first Harry Potter novel, though they quickly read the remaining six without me}. Sometimes, however, I see a book somewhere and think they should read it. Sometimes said book sits on an overcrowded shelf for months. Occasionally, a year or more.

Such was the case with Rebecca Stead's When You Reach Me. I do not recall the circumstances which precipitated this purchase. I do, however, know that it has been on the "kids'" bookshelf for at least a year. Recently, however, when I noted my duo was far too entrenched in TV, and computers, and video games, I insisted they take a few tech-free days.

When asked what in the world they would do with their time, I suggested reading any books on the shelf not heretofore read. After both kids devoured the book they handed it to me and said we should read it together.

We read very few books together anymore as the season of lolling in bed with freshly bathed, pajama-clad kids has passed. Our evenings are now more generally categorized as frantic meal making whilst transporting children to and from their myriad of activities {I am nothing if not a multi-tasker}. I yearn for those by-gone days and gladly jumped at the opportunity.

And so we began reading When You Reach Me together. We were, however, neither pajama-clad nor freshly bathed. In fact we didn't even snuggle together in one bed, but instead, we were haphazardly strewn about my bedroom - one on the chair, another on the bed, and me running around multi-tasking.

After our first session of reading together I was inclined to read the entire book more quickly than our sporadic, joint readings allow. I received permission to have at it all alone. And so I did. I read it immediately upon waking the next morning. I read it while eating breakfast. I read it while brushing my teeth. I read and read and read until I found myself weeping on a treadmill at the YMCA.

I was absolutely awestruck by the taunt yet complex plot, characters, and heart-breaking poignancy of it. Every single word and sentence has meaning. Stead appears to effortlessly weave together mystery, historical fiction, middle school fiction, life lessons in friendships and relationships, all with a string of time travel cleverly traversing through it.

I admit I became a bit of a detective while reading -- examining the map-like cover for clues, studying the clever chapter titles after each and every chapter, and constantly recalibrating my own hypothesis as more and more clues were revealed.

In addition to the gripping storyline, I was also struck by the clarity of Miranda's, the main character's, voice. Stead offers an emotional connection to a girl struggling to make sense of her world. And from Miranda's perspective, as with most sixth grade children, life-or-death stakes and the loss of a friendship may not feel that far apart. Miranda's narrative voice is startlingly authentic, in part because Stead so skillfully conveys the self-doubt of the age. It's not just the story's or life's bigger mysteries she is unsure of. Trivial ones are equally perplexing.

A Wrinkle in Time, one of my favorite books of all time, as is also the case with our heroine, Miranda, is referenced throughout the story. Both books superbly convey a sense that life is full of unseen mysteries. "It's crazy the things a person can pretend not to notice,” Miranda says in the first pages, foreshadowing the many overlooked clues to follow. Later, she returns to the theme, explaining her mom’s theory that our experience of life is always mediated and incomplete. “We walk around happily with these invisible veils hanging down over our faces,” Miranda paraphrases, “But sometimes our veils are pushed away for a few moments, like there’s a wind that blew it from our faces. And when the veil lifts, we can see the world as it really is.”

This book undoubtedly lifted my veil. It let light shine in in a way adult literature cannot manage in a mere 197 pages. It was like a breath of fresh air delightfully and cleverly packaged in a book both young and old can appreciate.

In the end, I'm not sure if it was the story's poignancy or if I was just feeling nostalgic, or perhaps something in between, but for a few hours this 43-year old was 12 again. And if that's not time travel, I don't know what is.

Ten Years.

2014-05-15T11:07:00.000-05:00

Daddy and me ~ Cabos 2001

It has been ten years since I lost my father. A full decade of life lived without him. He has not been physically present for nearly one-quarter of my life.

Though I have physically felt the loss every single day of said ten days, I am utterly dumbfounded to think I've somehow lived ten years without hearing his voice or receiving his gentle encouragement.

He, more than any other person, made me who I am today.

His unconditional, perfect love is the gold standard; and the one I set for myself as a parent.

His patience makes me strive to be more patient with others {work in progress}.

His humble spirit causes me to keep myself in check and accept slices of humble pie when served.

His inability to see the bad in me encourages me to continuously work on being a better mother, sister, wife, and person.

His gentle spirit and tender heart was, I believe, a beautiful gift he left with my son.

His wisdom, always dispensed timely and in so few words, I yearn for often.

His ability to be fully sated, in the moment, monetarily, in relationships, and with life in general, is a quality I admire but by which I am sadly still quite perplexed.

His selflessness was unparalleled in our always-looking-out-for-number-one world.

His confidence in and love for me will never be matched.

One of the last emails I received from him, a Corkyism, reads as follows:

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire life to forget them.

Love, Daddy.

One decade behind me, and I'm here to say: I will never forget.

That Day -- The Hug.

2013-12-29T05:00:00.000-06:00

A friend recently approached me with this moving and very personal piece. She would like to remain anonymous but felt publishing and sharing it might help others suffering through the loss of a child.

I am a big believer in the cathartic power of writing and also find solace in the written words of others.

My prayer today is for healing for my friend as well as however many others this may reach.

______________________________________________________________________

Here I am approaching That Day again, the day when my life changed forever. It was a sunny day in December, 4 days after Christmas, 4 days after I hugged my firstborn son for the last time. Now, years later, I can still recall That Hug as though it happened only a few hours ago.

That Hug. There was something incredibly special in That Hug. Think of how many times you hug your kids. From the huggly-snuggly-kissy way you love on your babies to the pure and innocent, heartfelt hug of a preschooler to the unexpected and absolute pleasure of the unsolicited hug of a pre-teen and yes, to the squirming away, don’t touch me hug of a young teen. I had been through them all with my firstborn and I knew that they were behind me and that this hug – this from the heart adult-to-adult hug meant that he loved me as much as I loved him. It meant that he saw me as an adult, that he forgave me for my shortcomings and that he loved me still.

A few days later I learned that my beautiful firstborn son was dead. Years have passed and my life has changed dramatically. My younger kids have grown up to be accomplished young people. They are on their way to finding their roles and purposes in the world. I am getting plenty of hugs from them as they pass through the stages of life. My pleasure in my young children is immeasurable.

Still I sob every time I approach That Day. It is a day of remembering the wonder of my firstborn son; the way he was so little when he was born, the fact that he could swim like a fish but always got a sunburn on his nose, the way he would come downstairs with a towel wrapped around his wet hair and wait for me to iron his shirt before school. It is also a day of reckoning. Why wasn’t I a better parent to him? How could I have been so caught up in my own life? What could I have done? Why didn’t I do this or that?

But there are things that can’t be changed - things that are forever drawn on the fabric of our lives. What helps me the most as I approach That Day, when all the memories and questions wash over me, is to remember That Hug; that one perfect moment when mother and son connect with each other in a way that is truly immortal.

War on the Poor.

2013-11-24T16:30:00.001-06:00

Recently I have been completely overwhelmed by what I view as a war on the poor. An entire wing of established politicians proliferate the view that if you are poor somehow you are automatically shiftless and lazy. Propaganda spews forth with images of gangstas collecting welfare and bragging about not having to work.

Strangely, those I've known who unfortunately fall into the "poor" category look nothing like the images portrayed by the establishment. If people would actually take the time to learn about one of the many individuals they portray as lazy and undeserving, I fear their attitudes might change.

This piece by Linda Tirado has gone viral which makes my heart swell. I am so glad people are taking a moment to understand another's perspective, and perchance, to understand why the poor are not actually so coddled by unemployment and food stamps that they refuse to get a job.

The war on the poor needs to end. I hope this piece sheds some light on why such hostility is quite clearly misplaced.

This is Why Poor People's Bad Decisions Make Perfect Sense

by Linda Tirado (reposting as per permission granted)

There's no way to structure this coherently. They are random observations that might help explain the mental processes. But often, I think that we look at the academic problems of poverty and have no idea of the why. We know the what and the how, and we can see systemic problems, but it's rare to have a poor person actually explain it on their own behalf. So this is me doing that, sort of.

Rest is a luxury for the rich. I get up at 6AM, go to school (I have a full course load, but I only have to go to two in-person classes) then work, then I get the kids, then I pick up my husband, then I have half an hour to change and go to Job 2. I get home from that at around 12:30AM, then I have the rest of my classes and work to tend to. I'm in bed by 3. This isn't every day, I have two days off a week from each of my obligations. I use that time to clean the house and soothe Mr. Martini and see the kids for longer than an hour and catch up on schoolwork. Those nights I'm in bed by midnight, but if I go to bed too early I won't be able to stay up the other nights because I'll fuck my pattern up, and I drive an hour home from Job 2 so I can't afford to be sleepy. I never get a day off from work unless I am fairly sick. It doesn't leave you much room to think about what you are doing, only to attend to the next thing and the next. Planning isn't in the mix.

When I got pregnant the first time, I was living in a weekly motel. I had a minifridge with no freezer and a microwave. I was on WIC. I ate peanut butter from the jar and frozen burritos because they were 12/$2. Had I had a stove, I couldn't have made beef burritos that cheaply. And I needed the meat, I was pregnant. I might not have had any prenatal care, but I am intelligent enough to eat protein and iron whilst knocked up.

I know how to cook. I had to take Home Ec to graduate high school. Most people on my level didn't. Broccoli is intimidating. You have to have a working stove, and pots, and spices, and you'll have to do the dishes no matter how tired you are or they'll attract bugs. It is a huge new skill for a lot of people. That's not great, but it's true. And if you fuck it up, you could make your family sick. We have learned not to try too hard to be middle-class. It never works out well and always makes you feel worse for having tried and failed yet again. Better not to try. It makes more sense to get food that you know will be palatable and cheap and that keeps well. Junk food is a pleasure that we are allowed to have; why would we give that up? We have very few of them.

The closest Planned Parenthood to me is three hours. That's a lot of money in gas. Lots of women can't afford that, and even if you live near one you probably don't want to be seen coming in and out in a lot of areas. We're aware that we are not "having kids," we're "breeding." We have kids for much the same reasons that I imagine rich people do. Urge to propagate and all. Nobody likes poor people procreating, but they judge abortion even harder.

Convenience food is just that. And we are not allowed many conveniences. Especially since the Patriot Act passed, it's hard to get a bank account. But without one, you spend a lot of time figuring out where to cash a check and get money orders to pay bills. Most motels now have a no-credit-card-no-room policy. I wandered around SF for five hours in the rain once with nearly a thousand dollars on me and could not rent a room even if I gave them a $500 cash deposit and surrendered my cell phone to the desk to hold as surety.

Nobody gives enough thought to depression. You have to understand that we know that we will never not feel tired. We will never feel hopeful. We will never get a vacation. Ever. We know that the very act of being poor guarantees that we will never not be poor. It doesn't give us much reason to improve ourselves. We don't apply for jobs because we know we can't afford to look nice enough to hold them. I would make a super legal secretary, but I've been turned down more than once because I "don't fit the image of the firm," which is a nice way of saying "gtfo, pov." I am good enough to cook the food, hidden away in the kitchen, but my boss won't make me a server because I don't "fit the corporate image." I am not beautiful. I have missing teeth and skin that looks like it will when you live on B12 and coffee and nicotine and no sleep. Beauty is a thing you get when you can afford it, and that's how you get the job that you need in order to be beautiful. There isn't much point trying.

Cooking attracts roaches. Nobody realizes that. I've spent a lot of hours impaling roach bodies and leaving them out on toothpick pikes to discourage others from entering. It doesn't work, but is amusing.

"Free" only exists for rich people. It's great that there's a bowl of condoms at my school, but most poor people will never set foot on a college campus. We don't belong there. There's a clinic? Great! There's still a copay. We're not going. Besides, all they'll tell you at the clinic is that you need to see a specialist, which seriously? Might as well be located on Mars for how accessible it is. "Low-cost" and "sliding scale" sounds like "money you have to spend" to me, and they can't actually help you anyway.

I smoke. It's expensive. It's also the best option. You see, I am always, always exhausted. It's a stimulant. When I am too tired to walk one more step, I can smoke and go for another hour. When I am enraged and beaten down and incapable of accomplishing one more thing, I can smoke and I feel a little better, just for a minute. It is the only relaxation I am allowed. It is not a good decision, but it is the only one that I have access to. It is the only thing I have found that keeps me from collapsing or exploding.

I make a lot of poor financial decisions. None of them matter, in the long term. I will never not be poor, so what does it matter if I don't pay a thing and a half this week instead of just one thing? It's not like the sacrifice will result in improved circumstances; the thing holding me back isn't that I blow five bucks at Wendy's. It's that now that I have proven that I am a Poor Person that is all that I am or ever will be. It is not worth it to me to live a bleak life devoid of small pleasures so that one day I can make a single large purchase. I will never have large pleasures to hold on to. There's a certain pull to live what bits of life you can while there's money in your pocket, because no matter how responsible you are you will be broke in three days anyway. When you never have enough money it ceases to have meaning. I imagine having a lot of it is the same thing.

Poverty is bleak and cuts off your long-term brain. It's why you see people with four different babydaddies instead of one. You grab a bit of connection wherever you can to survive. You have no idea how strong the pull to feel worthwhile is. It's more basic than food. You go to these people who make you feel lovely for an hour that one time, and that's all you get. You're probably not compatible with them for anything long-term, but right this minute they can make you feel powerful and valuable. It does not matter what will happen in a month. Whatever happens in a month is probably going to be just about as indifferent as whatever happened today or last week. None of it matters. We don't plan long-term because if we do we'll just get our hearts broken. It's best not to hope. You just take what you can get as you spot it.

I am not asking for sympathy. I am just trying to explain, on a human level, how it is that people make what look from the outside like awful decisions. This is what our lives are like, and here are our defense mechanisms, and here is why we think differently. It's certainly self-defeating, but it's safer. That's all. I hope it helps make sense of it.

Dinner this week.

2013-11-11T12:27:00.000-06:00

Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. It's going to be that sort of week. So what business do I have planning homemade, comfort-food type meals?

Absolutely none.

But I never let silly realities like my schedule dictate my appetite. This is what I need this week. Amidst the craziness, I need good, warm meals. I need to slow down and allow time for the beef to braise.

Some people meditate.

I cook.

And so despite my time constraints, I am determined to make this work. I have the grocery list to prove it and need to finalize this post so I can dash to the store and get started.

Literally. Right. Now.

1. Chicken Pot Pie - Talk about comfort food! I plan to make these as individual pies with the biscuit topping. I'll likely modify the recipe a bit but this recipe is my inspiration.

2. Beef Stew - I have my own beef stew recipe I adore. Mine, however, is filled with vegetables, and if there is anything my duo dislikes, it's anything filled with vegetables. And so I'm going to try this version with only beef, carrots, and potatoes. What's not to like?!

3. Spaghetti and Meatballs - This is a staple at our house {I make batches of meatballs, freeze them, and pull them out as needed}, but I'm trying a new recipe. I've tried many, many meatball recipes over the years. I am never displeased, but am still searching for . . . the one.

4. Chicken Noodle Soup - This may well be my family's favorite meal. Mine too. This will be it's highly-anticipated debut this season.

If it's chilly here this week I assume the rest of the country is absolutely freezing. Let me know your family's favorite cold-weather comfort food?

New Parents Have it Easy.

2013-10-30T05:20:00.000-05:00

Yes, you read the title correctly: I think new parents have it easy.

Really, when you think back, babies are not all that hard.

I realize this could incite new mothers the world over. But truly, if they have time to read blogs, they are only proving my point!

1. Babies cannot talk.

They also cannot roll their eyes or slam doors or throw tantrums. While their incessant crying tends to annoy, silence is found by simply placing a boob {or bottle} in the crying baby's mouth. Really, is that so hard!?

2. Babies do not have back-to-back activities every day from 3 pm -7 pm.

Babies do not require intricate carpooling routines. New parents do not have to remember how the M-W schedule differs from the T-TH schedule, and oh! don't forget the birthday party on Saturday! No, a baby's schedule is the same every afternoon -- sleep. For hours! Heaven. I spend most afternoons in the car helping with homework and whipping up a nutritious dinner simultaneously.

3. Baby laundry is little and cute.

Truly, one load of laundry and their entire little wardrobe is fresh and clean. The laundry of active tweens requires a full-time laundress {oh yeah, that's me}. And you'll never find me cooing "so cute" as I turn every single stinky sock right side in while sorting. Never.

4. Babies are not picky eaters.

Babies, whether they take a bottle or breast, eat regularly and what they are served. Tweens are picky eaters. Or not hungry. Or only hungry for cereal. Babies lay sweetly in your arms and smile while you feed them. So peaceful and serene. Our dinner times are neither peaceful nor serene, but instead, have become a war zone with nightly battles over veggie intake, not talking while chewing, and keeping elbows off the table {and no, I am not the manners Nazi in the family}.

5. Babies wear anything.

There are no arguments over what to wear to church or for the family photo. There are no "dramatic sighs" when an outfit is suggested. Yes, babies may soil their clothing from time to time, but that simply provides further opportunities to display yet another darling ensemble! I still purchase the darling ensembles but consider it a win if my duo dons anything other than sport shorts and t-shirts.

6. Babies can watch R rated movies.

I do not suggest you bring an infant into an actual movie theatre. That is annoying and plainly inconsiderate to the other viewers. But, in the privacy of your own home, babies can simply sleep in your arms or play on the floor while you watch any number of inappropriate films. You need not be concerned with the gratuitous violence or sex. Babies will simply kick about in their bouncers while you stay up to date with the latest cinema and television series. If my duo walked into the room during Game of Thrones there would undoubtedly be questions and quite possibly counseling required.

7. Babies do not ask why the door is closed.

So maybe you do not feel like spending private time with your husband for the first ~~couple, few,~~ six months, but in theory you could. There is generally some portion of each day when the baby is asleep and you are awake. I realize we all have priorities and yours may well be a shower. No judgment here. But suffice to say, if you are so inclined, the baby will not walk down the hall, open the door, and ask an uncomfortable series of questions. Not to mention, you have years before junior comes tumbling into your bed each morning.

8. Babies sleep.

Yes, it takes some adjusting to adapt to a two-hour sleep cycle. I remember those days. But no one expects you to do anything during that time other than produce milk {or not, your choice}. If you showered and made the bed in one day your husband cheers, "You are doing great!" This is truly an amazing time. Relish in your ability to lay about all day long, neglect the house, any timely grooming rituals, and allow others to feed you for weeks on end.

Seriously, what's not to love!?

Dinner this Week.

2013-10-28T10:51:00.001-05:00

It is a short dinner-at-home week for us with Grandma Julie's birthday celebration dinner and Halloween. No, I do not plan to allow my kids to eat only candy for Halloween dinner, but I have yet to plan our annual fête. I realize that is this week, and thus, given my very organized method of planning all week should be included herein. Sadly, though, I cannot yet wrap my head around the utter madness that is Halloween at our house. I have at least three full days of procrastination left and plan to utilize them fully.

But here's what's on tap for the rest of the week:

photos via Pinterest

Parmesan Crusted Chicken - This is a new chicken preparation method for me, but I do something similar with Tilapia from time to time so I think the kids will enjoy it. And besides, it looks super easy.

Lasagna Baked Ziti - I have made this numerous times and everyone {save Little Miss Thang who hates all red sauce} loves it. Pleasing everyone in my family is a feat I rarely accomplish. Little Miss Thang will eat all the components of this recipe sans red sauce. And I adore that little girl just enough to deconstruct as needed.

Cider-Braised Pork Chops - This will also be a new recipe for me but it looks both delectably fall-ish and weeknight dinner simple-ish. Win-win.

So what do you have in store for your family this week?

Dinner this week.

2013-10-16T13:09:00.000-05:00

Last week was quite a successful dinner week for me. I shopped once and cooked every meal I planned. This is noteworthy, folks, as I generally shop a few times a week and still do not manage to properly plan meals. My organized friends are chuckling because they have always utilized this fancy little trick. The rest of you, who like me do not fall neatly into the "organized" column, revel in these little successes.

Fingers-crossed that I'm turning over a new leaf for good!

This is a short week for our family as we prepare to travel for a gymnastics meet/meet the in-laws this weekend. I will nourish us as well as possible before we spend the weekend eating {and drinking} poolside. Yes, for those of you not in Texas, it is still possible to eat poolside. We do not consider this a plus, but take advantage nonetheless.

Until then, we will enjoy this mild cold front and a few warm meals.

Last night I made the Classic Ragu Bolognese {bottom} and let me tell you: It was absolutely amazing. Maybe not everyone gets quite as excited about a bolognese, but I love nothing more than a dish that requires hours of simmering {I swear my house still smells amazing} so the flavor meld and intensify. I also recognize that not everyone is home from 4pm-7pm to allow this magic to occur. If that is the case, make a double batch on a Sunday afternoon and freeze half. You will be so happy you did.

Tonight I am trying Nigel Slater's Coq au Riesling {right}. It too looks amazing {cream + wine + pancetta + my shoe = yum!} but can be whipped together easily between homework, gymnastics, and tennis, making it a great weeknight meal contender.

My final meal of the week is one of my kids' favorites: Pasta with Sausage. This is a weeknight standby in our house because (1) the kids love it, and (2) I can easily stock the ingredients. Yes, you will see it again soon. I have to balance all the new dishes with our tried and true.

So, what's on the menu for your family this week? Do you cook new meals regularly or stick to the tried and true? Share a link to your favorite recipe so I can try it next week!

940 Saturdays.

2013-10-07T13:51:00.000-05:00

True. Of course it depends on your child's birth month and a variety of other variables. Only nerdy minds such as mine factor in such variables. Others just take this at face value and want to run off and plan a special weekend with her child. Sometimes I wish my mind operated on that level.

But it doesn't.

And while I certainly understand, and at times, tout the "carpe diem" philosophy of parenting, I also have parented long enough to understand that some days are just too long to recognize how painfully short the years can be.

The concept that young parents should simply "enjoy every moment because it goes so fast" infuriates me. Yes, enjoy the ride. Enjoy the big picture of parenting. But truly, I will never tell any parent to enjoy the moment when one toddler is standing in the grocery cart screaming and the other is running down the cereal aisle knocking down every box. Yes, you may eventually look back and laugh at that moment. But no sane or sober mother is laughing or enjoying that very moment.

Nor will I attempt to make any working parent feel guilty because he or she cannot make the 300th soccer game of the season because of work. Work pays the bill for the cleats, the pizza party, and the trophy for every kid on the team. Work is a necessity.

When and why did every moment become so special?

Growing up my parents did not entertain me every weekend. Actually, think it's fair to say they entertained me very few weekends. Truly, those few were special occasions. Most weekends they were busy with yard work, chores, friends, and activities of their own. They taught bridge in our basement for college credit {this still baffles me}. They mowed the yard. They cleaned the house. They cooked meals. They socialized with their own friends.

This is not to say that I was in any way neglected as a child. Quite the contrary. My parents were fabulous parents. They encouraged me and loved me unconditionally. They just didn't entertain me. If I said I was bored my mother handed me Comet and told me to clean all the sinks. And I did.

I remember when my duo were just babes, my father said one day while I was playing with my kids on the floor of his living room, "You are always on the floor entertaining them. We never spent time on the floor with you." True. I have many pictures of myself in a playpen surrounded by toys. Mom was probably busy sewing a dress for herself. I was incapable of sewing on a button when my duo was little -- I was too busy sitting on the floor entertaining them.

What caused this cultural shift and is it good for us or our children?

Quite frankly, though I've already spent over 520 Saturdays "enjoying" my children, I would argue that every weekend should not be a special occasion. Children need to learn to entertain themselves, or perchance, to clean the sinks.

Yes, we should enjoy quality time with our children. Often. But we should also enjoy ourselves - with and without them.

We should enjoy family game nights filled with laughter and silliness, but we should not feel guilty about couple date nights filled with champagne and sushi. We need both. And they need to see a healthy relationship in action.

We too should celebrate the change of the seasons and jump on the trampoline until our legs sag. We should also enjoy the crisp breeze from our perch in a hammock reading a book. Alone. Children can entertain themselves. More so as they get older, but even in small spurts when they are young. Work from wherever you are.

Finally, we should not feel guilty about working. {Unless, that is, you are a workaholic who prefers working to living. That is another issue and one which I shall not address.} But if you, like the hubs, have a job that demands working weekends from time to time, then work on the weekends. Weekend days are not sacred. Find quality time when you can. Don't beat yourself up for providing for your family.

I have no doubt I will miss my children when they head off to college. I will most certainly miss the messes and the loudness and the busyness they bring. Without question. That tremendous feeling of loss, however, will not wane simply because we had 940 meticulously-planned, over-the-top Saturdays together.

Carpe diem.

When you can.

Or lay around next Saturday and read a really good book.

Kids should have parents who do both.

Because truly, while creating an-every-weekend-is-a-party mentality may prepare children for college, perhaps it is not in the manner you intend.

Dinner this week.

2013-10-04T11:54:00.001-05:00

I do indeed recognize that it is strange, or startling, or perhaps, even jolting for me to casually show up here in this little space of mine and suggest a menu for the week. I had no intentions of reincarnating this blog or this blog series.

Truth be told, I'm feeling a touch of guilt for feeding my kids pasta three nights this week {hubs is in trial and not dining with us}. As if that weren't enough, one of my besties, J, said she missed this feature. Well, you see, J's babes are my God children, and thus, I take it as a moral imperative to ensure she does not fall into my pasta-is-so-easy-and-quick rut. Our children deserve better.

So, yes, I'm back on my meal-planning bonanza and I'm taking you all {or perhaps, just J} along with me. Like it or not!

So here's my week at a glance:

Friday night - Out-to-dinner night {despite the fact that so was Thursday - this single mom gig is rough duty}.

Saturday night - Grilled Balsamic Flank Steak.

The hubs can grill. He must take a night off eventually. And I'm pretty sure grilling is cathartic. Right?! I'll serve this with roasted or grilled veggies.

Sunday night - Red Wine-Braised Short Ribs.

We have a cold front coming through and this will be a glorious day to have something warm simmering on the stove making the house smell incredible. Yes, it does take all day to make, but that's what Sunday's are for. Make extra. The leftovers are divine. Serve with a side salad and crusty bread.

Monday night - Easy White Chicken Chili.

I'm hoping the air is still brisk. This is an easy weeknight dinner. Hopefully you have leftover crusty bread.

Tuesday night - Salmon with Avocado Salsa.
Another quick weeknight meal. Quinoa as the side with similar salsa ingredients incorporated and dressed with lemon and olive oil. Of course, it will be hot again so this will be refreshing.

Wednesday night - Vanilla Bean-Whipped Sweet Potatoes.
I realize this is a side, but I could eat the entire bowl pictured. I love this with a pork tenderloin {roasted at 425 for 20-25 minutes}.

Enjoy!

#StandwithWendy

2013-06-28T13:02:00.003-05:00

I assume the vast majority of you, not just Texans but Americans, have now heard about the epic stand Wendy Davis took in the Texas Senate on Tuesday. The national networks all covered the story on Wednesday and Davis took a well-deserved victory lap on the morning show circuit.

Abortion is among the most divisive issues in American politics. It has the power to rally the grassroots, inspire explosive rhetoric, boost candidacies and raise money for both parties. I do not intend to debate its merits. My thoughts on the matter are of no consequence to most of you, and I am not likely to change your mind if our views do not align.

But suffice to say, yes, I stand with Wendy. I wholeheartedly believe that limiting a state the size of Texas {268,820 sq. miles} to approximately five licensed abortion clinics is not in the best interest of the women in Texas.

That is where I'll leave it on the substance of this issue, because what concerns me {not more than the merits, but concerns me} is what happened after the successful filibuster and what seems to be happening in politics in general.

While #StandwithWendy went viral across America, and Davis rocketed to sudden, national political stardom, Governor Perry, clamoring for the national spotlight himself, immediately admonished the star of the Democratic filibuster, saying state Senator Wendy Davis's rise from tough upbringing to Harvard Law graduate should have taught her the value of each human life.

Wait. Stop right there.

He did not.

Certainly the Governor of Texas, and Presidential hopeful, would not be so openly crass and unfeeling as to suggest that a Texas Senator should support ending abortion rights in Texas simply because she was born to anything less than a wealthy two-parent family?!?

Surely you jest.

Sadly, no.

"Who are we to say that children born in the worst of circumstances can't lead successful lives?" Perry said in a speech to nearly 1,000 delegates at the National Right to Life Conference in suburban Dallas. "Even the woman who filibustered the Senate the other day was born into difficult circumstances."

And he doesn't stop there.

He added, “She was the daughter of a single woman, she was a teenage mother herself. She managed to eventually graduate from Harvard Law School and serve in the Texas Senate. It's just unfortunate that she hasn't learned from her own example that every life must be given a chance to realize its full potential and that every life matters."

And further.

"I'm proud that she's been able to take advantage of her intellect and her hard work, but she didn't come from particularly good circumstances," our governor commented to reporters. "What if her mom has said, 'I just can't do this.' At that particular point in time I think it becomes very personal."

Personal, indeed.

Did he truly insinuate that her pedigree alone suggests her mother may have considered an abortion?

Rick Perry's remarks are not only incredibly condescending to Davis personally, but are also incredibly insulting to all women. These remarks which show so little regard for women are exactly why the vast majority of women believe politicians shouldn't be involved in a woman's personal health care decision in the first place.

Last I checked, abortions are not only offered to poor single mothers. Sadly, in Texas, though, Perry has slashed funding to Planned Parenthood ensuring many poor single mothers do not have access to birth control, and thus, are more likely to get accidentally pregnant.

Brilliant.

Thankfully, Davis didn't take it too personally and was able to take the high road, stating, “Rick Perry’s statement is without dignity and tarnishes the high office he holds."

Indeed.

I expect more of my elected officials.

I expect dignity.

I expect a leader who doesn't take cheap shots at other elected officials. Or anyone.

Dignity.

It seems to be in very short supply these days.

Shame on you, Governor Perry.

Shame on you for hitting below the belt.

For making it personal.

And shame on Texas for continuing to allow Perry to hold the highest office in our great State.

Americans, please do not make the same mistake!

To that end, I'd love to get another hashtag trending: #DonewithPerry.

The Gift of an Ordinary Day.

2013-03-19T17:17:00.000-05:00

My BFF shared this YouTube video with me last week while I was away on a family vacation.

Yes, I look, and most certainly was, delirious. Traveling as a family, especially for a ski vacation, has that effect on me. Either that or I had one too many beers at lunch.

It's really anyone's guess.

But back to the video.

It struck accord with me today.

It probably would have any day, but it did so especially today.

Spending time away as a family is such a magical time.

Returning to the daily grind, however, is not.

It's so very easy to loose a sense of perspective on life.

Because what really is important is the every day.

Not the milestones, or the fancy vacations, but the little every day moments.

Grab the Kleenex and enjoy!

Butterflies and Rainbows. Or not.

2013-03-06T19:19:00.002-06:00

While watching the Oscars {or was it the Grammys?!} a few weeks ago, I saw a tweet that stated Adele and Taylor Swift are basically the same age.

Yes, go ahead and let that sink in a bit.

Taylor Swift and Adele.

The same age.

How can that be when one seems perpetually stuck in boy-crazy middle school and the other has the composure and grace of a much older and more mature woman. No offense to Taylor. She is absolutely darling -- just in a young-girl-head-in-the-clouds sort of way. Adele, on the other hand, is gorgeous and a mother and seemingly much more mature {in my humble opinion}.

When I shared this fact with Little Miss Thang {who adores both artists} she was equally aghast. She quickly recovered, though, and offered this explanation: I suppose Taylor Swift has had a much easier life and Adele's has been harder, because Taylor is more a rainbows and butterfly girl and Adele is tougher or edgier.

An astute observation. I have no idea how accurate this may or may not be, but she makes a valid point that your experiences and upbringing ultimately form, or at least have bearing upon, the person you become.

As Little Miss Thang reaches her 1st decade birthday this week -- double digits and her golden birthday as she says -- I began to reflect on the past decade as a mother of this mighty might.

Nine years of birthday celebrations!

While we are now firmly betwixt child and teen, I can already see she is quite clearly becoming a young lady I admire -- equal parts sweet and sass. Or in other words, a little bit butterflies and rainbows, but undoubtedly, with an edge all her own.

She is annoyed by her boy-crazy friends and still insists she is not getting married.

She has impeccable manners and uses them quite sparingly.

She absolutely loves all animals and hates anything pink.

She enjoys the company of many friends but will not declare a bestie.

She still loves spending time with her mommy but dashes out the door as soon as a friend ~~calls~~ texts.

She plays with dolls but has given away her Barbies.

She inhales 200+ page books in a single day, but she refuses to give away her Rainbow Magic fairy series.

She only cries during movies and books when an animal dies {never when a human, usually the mom, dies!}.

She would skydive tomorrow if we let her but is deathly afraid of bugs.

Just enough butterflies and rainbows to want a dress-up party for her 10th birthday. But a dress-up party with an edge -- red carpet themed complete with an actual red carpet and paparazzi.

10th Birthday Red Carpet Celebration

And so it seems Little Miss Thang mastered this balance with no concerted effort on my part.

In fact, I posit she was born this way.

Amazing how we plan to actively raise our children only to later realize we are really just along for the ride, or perchance, to learn a few things ourselves.

Please remind me of this again in another few years when I am fully enmeshed in the teen years!

Blog-dying-slowly.

2013-02-25T14:24:00.002-06:00

In the beginning {of my blog, not the world} I posted six to seven times a week. Eventually the adrenaline wore off and I slowed to five.

I held steady at that level for some time.

But then eventually fell to 2-3.

Now, however, I feel challenged to post even once a week.

Why is that?

Life has changed, for certain, but I think there is more underlining this blog-dying-slowly movement I'm witnessing.

I offer a few explanations:

1. I had years of stories built up when I started. I had emotions that I needed to work through. Writing was integral in that process for me. Now I have to wait weeks, or sometimes a month, for anything blog-worthy to share. We are a fairly run-of-the-mill family. We do all the same things you do in any given week -- which never seems boring at the time -- but I realize no one wants to read about the mundane if I can't add an interesting twist to it. I don't even want to write about it. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite enjoying this calm period in life. Truly. It is just not good blog fodder.

2. I'm learning to be still. Surprising, I know. But I've realized over the years that filling my world with more and more and more and more does not make be happier; just busier. I've said "no!" more the past few years. I've kept commitments I enjoy and shed a few others that do not add to my joy. I have most certainly made strides in not adding to my plate simply so I can insist to others that my plate is full. Feeling the need to "blog" is not something I do just so I have something to "do." I do not glorify busyness. Some days my plate is not full. I'm proud of such days and think I will have truly arrived when I maintain a standing bi-monthly facial and manicure.

3. I want to move more and sit less. I started this blog in my 30s {late 30s for those who are counting}. Now I'm well into my 40s. I love my 40s, but my "you must have a tapeworm" metabolism seems to have failed me. I need to exercise more and sit on my butt less. I'd like to think I'm motivated by a quest to maintain a healthy lifestyle, but if we are being honest here {we are, right?}, it's mainly because I have amassed a pretty nice wardrobe in one size. Changing sizes is absolutely unthinkable.

Yes, I realize 2 and 3 appear contradictory, but hopefully you can see why both are important.

4. I've said this before and you've undoubtedly read it elsewhere, but my children's stories are no longer something that can be told over the loudspeaker of the internet. They deserve some privacy. As does my husband. And my friends. What does that leave? I could blog about my travails in again chairing the silent auction at my kids' school. I know you love when I get on a good rant. Look for that sometime mid-April.

5. I refuse to rant about politics. I want to. I have lots of opinions you don't want to hear. I could almost certainly ostracize the majority of my readers, but it just doesn't seem to fit my brand of whimsy. So, all that political mumbo-jumbo swirling around in my head will just have to stay there. But if you want to chat / debate just let me know. I'll gladly unleash on anyone willing. But only those willing. The rest of you are safe.

6. Pinterest ruined me. True. I've thought this many times. I used to share a cute item, cool saying, a fantasy vacation photo, or just a great recipe I found on the internet. It just felt right to share the folly and helped provide fodder when life did not. I can still do that, I realize, but pinning it is so much easier and you don't really need my commentary. It feels a little cheap to just post a quote now. They are a dime a dozen on Pinterest. I've always enjoyed providing fresh content.

7. I've not pursued freelance writing. That is the next step for a blogger. I've watched as many, many bloggy friends tred and then dive into the freelance writing market. I've not even dipped my toe in the waters. Truly, I like writing for me. When I feel like writing. Anything else is work. Refer back to #2.

8. Dinners this Week as a feature was a hit, but honestly, I repeat the same recipes so often now I cannot bear to post if for you all to see. Pork tenderloin and lemon chicken again?! Yes. Nearly ever week. I'm in a dinner rut too. Do you think the dinner rut and bloggy rut are connected? Free counseling is welcome. Comments are open.

I apologize to those of you who find my lack of motivation to entertain you with more frequency sad. Inspire me. Kidnap me and take me on a high seas adventure. That would be blog-worthy. But having a sick kid at home again today {which I how I found the time to type this tirade} is not.

To those of you who faithfully read whatever I post whenever I post: Thank you.

I hope I surprise you from time to time with something worthy of the time you've invested in me!

Pinteresting Valentines.

2013-02-13T16:48:00.004-06:00

I have undoubtedly learned quite a bit from Pinterest. Quite frankly, Pinterest is my favorite form of social media {but please don't tell Instagram, a close second}.

Mostly, I conclude, because it adds tangible value to my life. Other forms of social media add value in terms of interaction with friends, but Pinterest actually inspires me to do more {which you will then undoubtedly see if you follow my Instagram feed}.

I meal plan. I make homemade ricotta. I am inspired to set a beautiful holiday table. I redecorate my kids' bedrooms {happening now}. I consider new pillows for the living room and new plants for my urns. I bake more. I bake more. And I bake more.

Quite simply, Pinterest is a crucial tool for a challenged homemaker such as myself.

You see, I am not creative in the least. Original, creative ideas do not bloom in my feeble mind. I simply copy others' ideas and impress my few friends who are not on Pinterest.

But I also fear I've morphed into one of those moms. You know who I mean. You were already thinking it -- the mom whose kids show up with the perfect Valentine's treat. The mom whose Valentine's box looks as if Martha Stewart made a house call.

No, I don't fancy myself a Martha Stewart-like maven. Again, I'm just copying others, but I nonetheless feel the glares on the back of my head from the other moms at school. The ones whose daughters show up with a common Valentine's box covered in stickers.

I'm sorry, moms. I swear I do have better things to do. Many, many other things in fact, all of which were put on the back burner this weekend while we created the perfect Valentine's boxes and treats. Oh, and I baked.

The Valentines inspiration:

all photos via Pinterest {except my duo below}

The cookies I made to kick-start our Valentine's week!

I kid you not.

Boy Genius's box inspiration and inspired candy of choice.

Little Miss Thang's box inspiration and treats of choice.

Pop Rocks for boys and homemade friendship bracelets for girls.

I've also pinned meal inspiration for the our family celebration. But I won't show that now so as not to ruin the surprise for the Hubs {hey babe!}.

So, yes, I am that mom.

I am the mom who will stay up late at night meticulously formatting the stickers for the bubble tape. I am the mom that spends a good portion of a Saturday afternoon helping her kids make their chosen Valentine's box.

And yes, I am that mom that makes heart pancakes for the entire class on Valentine's morning. And then serves spaghetti and meatballs at lunch.

Because, I can.

I am not that mom to make other moms feel better or worse about themselves as a mom.

In fact, it has nothing at all to do with other moms, but everything to do with this:

Are you that mom too?

THE shoe of the season.

2013-02-05T14:43:00.000-06:00

I'm human. I've struggled a bit with aging.

A bit.

But I'm more or less at terms with who I am and where I am in life. I do, as you know, occasionally wonder whether or not I can pull off a romper or shiny jeans. I fear, however, this is more demonstrative of my well-instilled {possibly misplaced} confidence than of my internal aging struggle.

I strive to strike the balance between aging gracefully and staying current / relevant. I often say I blog because it keeps me in tune with so much of the world to which I would not otherwise be exposed.

Until today I thought that a good thing.

Today, however, my {barely a whisper} internal aging dialog become a booming, cackling laugh in the back of my head. All this was brought to bear by a darling young blogger {who shall remain nameless} who was super jazzed {that's my old word, not her young word which I cannot remember - because I'm old} about her new wedge high tops.

Say what?

Isabel Marant via Net-a-Porter

And get this: They cost $640.

US Dollars, not Pesos.

I wrongly assumed this was a designer-gone-wild incident and this blogger a rogue fashionista.

But oh no, this is the shoe of the season.

THE SHOE OF THE SEASON!?!?!?

Plenty of options at Piperlime

I'm speechless.

Well, nearly.

It is not as if this is the first trend I refuse to embrace. I'm not a trendy girl. I naturally gravitate towards the classics {only occasionally with a twist}.

This is simply the first trend that made me think someone is playing a cruel, cruel joke on young girls by reinventing the hightop as a wedge and charging outrageous amounts of money for the privilege of looking hip {or ridiculous depending on your point of view}.

And so today it is resolved: I am old and proud of it. I do not need to ask whether or not I can pull off the wedge high top. No input from my gracious readers is required. I am now quite ready to sit back and giggle at the trends as they pass me by.

So from my comfy chair far, far away from Fashion Week I say, "Sport your sneakers and rock your heels. Just don't try to do it at the same time."

New York City Girls' Trip

2013-01-30T16:40:00.001-06:00

After Christmas Little Miss Thang and I took a girls' trip to New York City. Our family travels fairly frequently and our kids have always been relatively good travelers, but my Little Miss Thang hit her stride on this trip.

As I've noted before, traveling with just one child is a walk in the park. And while Little Miss Thang is {almost} always a joy, she is absolutely delightful with her twin brother 2,000 miles away!

Even at midnight and after walking all day long!

Me and Little Miss Thang in front of the Rockefeller Center tree

She honestly surprised me at every turn.

Adding up her American Girl purchases to ensure she was within her gift card amount.

Insisting we must shop for clothes for me too. {Well, if you insist!}

Putting her napkin on her lap at every meal and using manners that would make the manner Nazi {the Hubs} proud.

Waiting for tea at the Plaza {only picture without our coats}

Waiting in an excruciating long line in freezing temps to see the 9/11 Memorial without complaint.

Getting started every day by 8:30 am though we'd only turned the lights out at 12:30 am. {We'll sleep when we get home}.

Times Square ~ way too late ~ and with a nice photo bomb.

Waiting patiently at dinner to join the conversation as six women inevitably jockey for the next word.

The whole gang - MIL and her daughter, Hub's Aunt and her daughter,
with Little Miss Thang and me.

Recognizing on her own that Rockefeller Center skating rink is overcrowded and overrated.

Skating in Central Park {yes, I'm wearing two jackets it's so cold}

Managing long days and load and loads of walking, without complaint, as if we do it every day!

Lady Liberty

Marveling at the "snow fall" {read: sleet} that fell our first day. I was miserably cold, but Little Miss Thang was in heaven!

Five years ago I was having a small dinner party when, sua sponte, Little Miss Thang announced to our friends: I want to live in NYC one day. We had no idea what prompted such an exclamation from a four year old, but smiled at her big city dreams.

After visiting, marveling at the vastness {this is all Saks, all nine stories?}, experiencing the diversity {that's not Spanish!}, eating really good food at really nice restaurants, Little Miss Thang's four-year-old impulse was reignited. "Yes," she exclaimed, while busting ahead of the tourists not crossing at the crosswalk the millisecond before the light turns, "I am going to live in NYC!"

I have no doubt.

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Favorites this trip:
Musical: Wicked
Dinner: Benoit
Shopping: The Muppet Workshop at FAO Schwarz

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Green Smoothie 101

2013-01-23T14:36:00.001-06:00

My darling husband surprised me with a Vitamix for Christmas. I've eyed them for a couple years but could never justify the expenditure. Now that I've owned one nearly a month, however, I wonder why I waited so long.

I do realize that many gadgets exist and that even the most basic blender is capable of making a smoothie, but this new addition to my kitchen is what got me into making smoothies.

Maybe it's just a new gadget, but I can say quite honestly I have made around 20 green smoothies in the past 22 days. And that, my friends, is why it was worth the expense for me.

You can read as long as you'd like about the importance of eating more leafy greens and whole foods. I'd cite you to sources, but please tell this is not news!?

And I'm not here to convince you or force my delicious green concoctions down your throat. I simply thought I'd share what I've learned and what I like. And perhaps, demystify the green smoothie for a few of you wondering how in the world I choke down so many vegetables in one sitting.

I promise it is painless, quite satisfying as a meal replacement, and delicious!

Basic green smoothie formula:

FIRST, choose your base / liquid

8-10 ounces of coconut water, purified water, or almond milk

SECOND, add your greens

2-3 cups of leafy greens such as kale, spinach, or chard

NEXT, add healthy fats + fruit

1 tblsp of coconut oil or nut butter or chia seeds + 1 cup organic fruit

FINALLY, add a boost

bee pollen, raw cacao, or raw maca all have amazing health benefits. Add as directed.

I've found the key to making smooth delicious smoothies is keeping a bag of peeled, frozen bananas in your freezer. You need a stash from which to pull and the addition of a frozen banana creates a lovely texture and provides a touch of sweetness.

I generally do not follow a specific recipe but simply utilize the basic green smoothie formula, experimenting with various combinations of fruits and vegetables. I've used cucumbers, celery, apples, pears, raspberries and more. You can use fresh or frozen fruit. If you use all fresh fruit simply add a few ice cubes before blending.

Here are a few combinations I return to again and again:

Kale * Pear

almond milk + kale + tahini + pear + frozen banana

Kale * Peach

almond milk + kale + tahini + peach + frozen banana

Spinach * Blueberry

almond milk + spinach + chia seeds + blueberries + frozen banana

Kale * Strawberry

almond milk + kale + almond butter + strawberries + frozen banana

Kale * Raspberry

coconut milk + kale + chia seeds + goji berries + frozen raspberries + frozen banana

Kiwi * Strawberry

orange juice + water + spinach + frozen strawberries + kiwi + frozen banana

Pineapple * Mango

almond milk + spinach + chia seeds + frozen mango + frozen pineapple

Let me know if you have a favorite combination or any green smoothie tips!

Twin differences.

2013-01-15T14:36:00.001-06:00

I am a mother of twins and, as such, feel like a bit of a control group for nurture versus nature. I have treated them equally since birth.

They were exposed to the same foods on the same days. They each slept the same amounts. I read to them both. Equally. I snuggled with them both. A lot. I sat on our playroom floor for hours upon hours and days upon days for years upon years. I was not a hurried mother with an older child pulling me in another direction. I was very, very present.

One sat up earlier than the other. Of course, then the other walked first.

One slept through the night effortlessly and the other gave me a run for my Baby Wise money. One lost four teeth before the other lost any.

One began reading long before the other. And multiplied. And now reduces fractions quite well.

But they started / tried sports at the same age.

They were exposed to the same amount of television. The same vacations and enrichment.

At a certain age their experiences began to differ based upon what they chose. Soccer for one, dance for the other. But they attend the same gifted and talented charter school. And otherwise live quite similar lives.

And yet, they are so very different now. Different not just in the activities they chose (though yes, those differ), but in their inner little beings. Different in sentimentalities. Different in sensitivities and resilience. Just so very different.

And sometimes the differences break my heart.

Because, I wonder, could I have done something different? Should I have recognized the differences earlier and adapted my behavior? Nurtured one more? Encouraged more social activities for one and more sports for the other? Was the convenience of equality a mistake?

For this control group we shall never know.

My duo at the Alamo ~ December 2013

But I do know this with all my heart, and all my soul: There is no greater calling in my life than having the privilege of raising these amazing little people.

A Mother's Prayer

2013-01-08T05:00:00.000-06:00

I'm a huge Tina Fey fan.

This seals the deal.

How to lose weight over the holidays.

2013-01-04T11:52:00.002-06:00

I realize this post comes a little late for those of you who overindulged and now feel the pinch of your waistband in your side. I've been there. I remember the feeling as well as the glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe those pants shrank at the cleaners, which quickly fades as you put on the next pair which was not yet sent to the cleaners. I know your pain. And I know reading this does nothing to assuage those feelings today.

But, there is always next year.

So, here's the plan:

First off, do not do any holiday planning in advance of the holidays. That will not help one bit; in fact, it will completely thwart your efforts.

Do, however, make sure there is plenty to plan. Don't scrimp on holiday details, decorating, cards, gifts, entertaining, parties, or vacation planning. Make one hundred percent certain that your plate is overflowing with obligations. If it seems that it is only slightly overflowing, add more. Perhaps a dinner party for ten at your house, with no help. Perfect. Pile it on! And don't even think about using paper napkins. White linen is a must. Along with silver and crystal. The more labor intensive, the better.

dinner party table for ten

Next, ensure that your husband does not in any way insist on helping with the holiday shopping. Don't let him raise a finger when it comes to gift buying or wrapping. Clearly, he is busy working and shouldn't be bothered. Even if "working" sometimes means "networking" with friends at a local pub. Networking is important too. Do not bother him as you want your plate overflowing.

Also, it is imperative that you are room mom for at least one of your kids' classrooms. If you can take on two, your success is nearly guaranteed, but for me, just one worked fine. Plan an entire day of festivities for the class's last day of school. Make sure there is baking involved. And lots of shopping and wrapping for the class gifts. Oh, and count on the mom who volunteered to bring drinks to arrive with no ice. Bonus, because now you can schlep a cooler full of ice up to school at the last minute on top of all the other supplies, home baked goodies, gifts, and craft supplies. The plan is working perfectly!

Holiday Celebration fun!

It also helps to then plan a fun day for the kids when they are out of school. Yes, you could make use of this time preparing for house guests, but that would not add to the frenzy of the season. No, no, decorate gingerbread houses, make and decorate mountains of sugar cookies. We are making memories here!

Making memories!

I may have forgot to mention it, but if you otherwise have household help (i.e., a housekeeper), you should ensure she develops a horrid staph infection or other such drama so you have no choice but to clean the toilets yourself. Truly, how hard can it be to keep the house clean with the kids home for the holidays and the in-laws arriving in a few days?!? Pish posh.

Now we are truly experiencing the joy of the season!

You may have thought it would get easier at this point. Most of the hard work is behind you now. Of course, now is when the in-laws arrive. Luckily for me, my in-laws are easy. They add very little to my plate. But, if they are here I'm not going to just serve pizza. No, I insist on three nights of painstakingly planned meals served on china {antique no less}, in the dining room {when else do we use it}, with the white linen napkins, sliver, crystal and the whole bit {Grandma would be so proud}. They do not ask for this. I'm pretty sure they think it is a bit over the top, but I insist.

It's the holidays!

It is also imperative to plan an incredible getaway for which you depart on December 26th at 5:20am. Truly, you can't budge on this last detail. You must leave town without having time to process Christmas Day, much less launder the now hundreds of linen napkins strewn about. You must instead, somehow find time to pack you and your daughter for temps at least fifty degrees cooler than that at home. And perchance sleep before the 3:00am alarm.

Whisk daughter away for a four day whirlwind tour of one of your favorite places. I chose NYC, but there is some flexibility in this decision. I simply think it must be (1) ~~cold~~ freezing, and (2) hectic. This is not a time to get away and relax. No, this is a time to run around for at least sixteen hours a day without stopping. Start early. Skip lunch and make sure to change clothes at least twice a day. Do not skip Times Square just because it's nearly midnight and you are both freezing and exhausted. Get your butt down to at least 47th street. Take pictures. Enjoy the crazy crowds. And then repeat the next day substituting Rockefeller Center the next night. Have the time of your life; just don't relax or sleep much at all.

Talk about making memories!

Now, you must return home as your adrenaline supply cannot possibly keep up. You've managed to make it to December 29th running so quickly from one party to the next to the next that you forgot to sit down, drink the nog and eat the fudge. In fact, you discover upon returning home, there is nearly an entire batch of fudge remaining. How can this be? You always eat all the fudge which is clearly what causes the post-holiday pudge.

Now here's the kicker: You have New Year's plans which require you to unpack, repack and depart 24 hours after returning! But wait, this is when the immune system finally gives way to the FLU! You felt it coming on the plane on the way home {though denial kept you going a few more hours}. Twelve hours later simply let the fever envelop you, cry UNCLE!, but insist the rest of the family depart as planned.

Fall directly into bed and do not move for at least 30 hours. Okay, let the dogs out occasionally, but otherwise do not move. Do not eat. Do not drink anything but clear fluids. Take your temperature every time you wake from a fever-induced rest and marvel at how bad 102 feels. Stay in this state for as long as it takes to begin to feel human again. For me, it was around thirty-six hours in bed. At that point I was able to stand long enough to make a green smoothie which I drank lying back in bed. Yes, you could call a friend to bring you food, but food does not even sound good {craziest words ever said}.

After a few days of refusing any food, start small. Don't shock your food-free system. It will take time to be able to eat a full meal again without feeling nauseous. Take it slow.

A full week later, I promise your skinny jeans will not seem near as skinny as they were in November!

And that my friends, makes for a very Happy New Year!

Happy New Year.

2012-12-31T10:42:00.001-06:00

I hope you had a splendid holiday surrounded by family and friends.

My blessings are plentiful but I will ring in the New Year from the comfort of my bed whilst my family enjoys our traditional celebration with friends. The goodness of the season finally took it's toll and my body gave in to a hideous cold.

So I bid you adieu as I slink into the comfort of my quiet house and cozy bed.

I may be down for the day, but

source

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

2012-12-20T15:12:00.000-06:00

I am officially signing off for the year so I can remain present and truly enjoy the holiday season!

But before I dash off to bake another round of cookies,

I want to wish each and every one of you a very Merry Christmas!

Here's to all the best this holiday season and in the new year!!

xoxo

What can we do?

2012-12-17T16:56:00.001-06:00

When loss and sadness envelops, we, as compassionate human beings, have an innate need to help. To reach out. To provide solace in some small way.

I know each and every one of you hugged your children a little longer and a tad tighter this weekend. I know most of you said more prayers this weekend than is your norm. And yet we still feel unsettled.

We are simply left helpless and lost in our own form of grief for innocence lost.

So what can we do?

I posit that we can help those affected.

And ourselves by the following actions:

Turn off the television.

Watching and re-watching the horror unfold is not helping anyone, least of all the town of Newtown. We do not need to hear form every neighbor who knows a family who lost a child. We do not need to subject the surviving children to any further trauma. The media is only there because we are watching. The families affected and the entire community need time to grieve. In what little peace remains in Newtown, Connecticut.

Lobby for reform.

Whether you feel passionate about gun control or better care for those affected by mental illness, now is the time to scream it from the hilltops. Use social media. Call your congressman. Do whatever you feel led to do to spur change.

Spread joy.

We cannot undo what was done. And despite reform, we cannot eradicate the world of evil. We can, however, spread joy. We can be the good we want to see in the world.

Start small. Start at home. Show kindness to a stranger. Show kindness to every individual you encounter. Bring gifts to a needy family. Show love and compassion to a homeless person. To a troubled teen. To a friend who is feeling down.

The world desperately needs more joy.

Those in Newtown will not feel the joy today or tomorrow, but they need to be surrounded by a world in which joy exists.

We all do.

God bless you all this holiday season and in the coming year.
____________________________________________________

For those looking for a monetary way to contribute or help those affected, you can give directly to the Sandy Hook School Support Fund.

Greatest story ever told.

2012-12-14T05:00:00.000-06:00

I hope your holiday season is off to a wonderful start.

I, for one, cannot seem to get ahead of my ever-growing list.

But every now and again, I try to be still and

remind myself of the true reason for the season.

Download the free printable at A Pair of Pears.