Category: Holidays
Friday, Mar 18, 2011 | Holidays, Kids, Parenting |
Check it off the want-to-do list:
We have hosted one friend sleepover (with the boys waking at approximately 5:30am to play wii in the basement, only to be foiled by semi-outraged, semi-amused mother who was leaving for spin class).
We have gone for walks in springlike weather, and visited our little neighbourhood park.
We have gone to the movies. Okay, so we were too late to get tickets for the one we wanted to see (Tangled), and thus ended up seeing the only other option (Yogi Bear), but it was friendly, corny, and funny enough to keep everyone happy, and the big kids were sent to the long concession line, by themselves, with cash, and returned with change and one treat for everyone, even mama (a Coffee Crisp–good choice, Albus).
We’ve had a family fun night (drawing, dancing), and a family movie night (School of Rock–who knew? It was the perfect movie for our sometimes ambivalent budding musicians).
We’ve had friends over for lunch, and vice versa, and everyone’s had a playdate or two sprinkled into the mix.
And now it is Friday. I fear the coming of the end of March Break, if only for the list of have-to-dos. We have to pick up all these toys, for example, the ones that have migrated around the house, along with blankets, pillows, art supplies, fort-building materials, and orphaned odds and ends of mind-boggling proportions. We have to memorize the times tables (well, one of us does, and if the rest of us come along for the rote-ride, all the better). There is much baking to be done (granola, pitas, bread). And there is the sense of: have we done enough with this magical week of freedom?
That question seems front and centre in the nine-year-old mind (almost ten). I’ve been sensing the pre-adolescent emergence this week; more than sensing it, seeing it, witnessing it, being slightly horrified by it. I keep working to emphasize the good, and call out the bad. I’m trying to figure out the balance between expectations and acceptance. If the grumpy nine-year-old has to howl about going for a walk in the beautiful spring breezes, because it doesn’t involve any direct pay-off for him that he can recognize, but then agrees to go for the walk, and comes along, and has a generally good time and is generally pleasant, should I get upset because the good was preceded by the bad?
I’m seeing the edge of mood swings. The precipice of myopia. The unlovely view of a sense of entitlement. I want to figure out a way to say, hey, I get it, but I expect more. You’re allowed to make mistakes, and lots of them–we all are–but you have to apologize, too. It’s natural and normal to want, to crave, to long for, but when you don’t get what you want, it’s good for the soul to look around and be glad for what you have.
Ugh. Are these just parenting cliches? Cliches generally? Well, they’re what I’ve got. If I find something more effective, I’ve let you know.
Monday, Mar 14, 2011 | Cooking, Family, Holidays, Yoga |
Monday night. Twice-stuffed potatoes, sausages, red cabbage salad. Potatoes leftover from Apple-Apple’s supper the night before. Excellent re-use of leftover baked potatoes, sliced in half, emptied out, insides mixed with cheese, crema, and mashed up brocolli and cauliflower. Red cabbage salad recipe from a friend (onion, mayonnaise, vinegar, and maple syrup). We cut each sausage in half, because there were only five. Kevin and I got one half each and the kids divvied up the rest.
Tuesday night. I ate alone. The kids went to a pancake supper at their grandma’s church, with Kevin, while I went to a yoga class. I made a house-favourite, mashed-potato soup, to be served as supper the next day. This “mashed-potato” soup contained quantities of squash. Basically anything goes into this soup, which does contain potatoes, too (though not mashed). Once it’s cooked, I zap it with a submersible hand-held blender, and hurray, instant happiness around the table. But I ate a bowl alone, tonight, and stored the rest in the fridge.
Wednesday night. Wednesday is always a crockpot supper. I tried out a new recipe with underwhelming results: a lentil and rice pilaf, which would have been far superior cooked on the stove. It was mushy, though smelled pretty good while cooking (cinnamon stick). Luckily, there was also mashed potato soup to warm up and serve. We ate together, between music class and Apple-Apple’s soccer.
Thursday night. I ate alone. The family ate pasta with red sauce. Kevin forgot to put out the greens. I cooked up the red sauce from scratch earlier in the day, and Kevin cooked up the noodles. It’s a good meal for the evenings when I’m out at yoga class. Which is where I was. I came home, and devoured a couple of bowls of pasta, along with the greens. That night, our youngest got sick, so we cancelled our babysitter and I missed kundalini yoga.
Friday night. I ate alone. This is starting to look like I eat alone a lot, but I feel like this week had to have been an anomoly. Kevin took the two girls to a pizza supper at one of our churches, Albus was at a friend’s house for pizza followed by the boys’ soccer (lovely parents feed our boy pretty much every Friday), and CJ was home with me, sick. I fried up a package of frozen spinach with cumin and garlic and onions, and ate it over leftover quinoa. Then I ate two pieces of pizza, which Kevin brought home for me. Kevin dropped off Fooey, and immediately left to take Apple-Apple to her goalie practice (soccer, again). Did I mention the pre-supper skating? The kids were all worn out. But also excited, because it was the start of their March break holiday.
Saturday night. Supper out! We went for all-you-can-eat sushi, and ate our money’s worth. Even CJ, who was still sick, discovered a fondness for cucumber maki, and ate at least six. This was such a treat, and it felt like we were on holiday, for real. We pretended we were at Disney (a place I fully intend never to go). I don’t know why, but it really felt like we were in Florida. We stayed for almost the full time limit, and everyone was beautifully behaved, not greedy, and shared the food. When we went home, we had a family drawing time at the dining-room table, and then a short dance party in the living-room. Considering the still-sick child, and the interrupted nights, and the 16km run that took up a large part of my afternoon, it felt like a real holiday.
Sunday night. All I wanted was not to have to cook supper. Yay! Kevin did it. CJ and I took a nap in the late afternoon, tucked up together in a chair. Kevin made tacos with black beans (which I’d cooked earlier in the day), and hamburger, and lots of fixings. It was an excellent meal, but with the time change, we realized it was nearly 7pm by the time we’d finished, and therefore too late for our planned family movie night. The kids were disappointed, but we let them watch part of a Harry Potter movie, while I did the dishes and the laundry. Everyone got to bed late, but slept soundly. I woke up feeling much more like myself again.
Monday, Jan 3, 2011 | Birthdays, Holidays, Yoga |
So, what’s new?
We survived another holiday season intact. Even the stolen stroller story had a relatively happy ending, as we bought what is now our THIRD sturdy bike/winter-tire stroller, a thankfully inexpensive find with help from kijiji. We also bought a major heavy-duty lock (approximately the value of our new/old stroller, come to think of it) on the recommendation of the kindly police officer who took down the report, and remembered me from the first stolen stroller incident, c. June 2009.
It felt like I didn’t get enough exercise or outdoor time during the holidays, but when tallied up, it was only marginally less than usual. Still, I felt off-kilter until yesterday morning, when I dashed off to the first yoga class of the year, followed by church, and it was back to the regular routine: there, I felt fabulous, grounded, much less growly, much more energetic. The late afternoon saw me baking a batch of bread, cooking tomato sauce from my canned tomatoes, making a huge pot of hot and sour soup from scratch, and a pizza, too, since the kids don’t like hot and sour soup. The kids’ lights were all out by 9. Kevin and I met for our usual Sunday night planning session.
Ahhhhh.
It was good to take the holiday and realize that regular life is like a holiday. I have built into the everyday so many sustaining routines that I don’t feel a need to take time off or away. But I wonder: how to make room for magic and stepping outside of the bounds of everyday during the holidays. I struggle with that. It is hard to balance the work necessary to bring about such magic moments, with the peace necessary to enter into them.
These next two weeks will be different again as I am going on a writing binge. I won’t be with the kids as much, and meals may be served more often from the crockpot. The plan includes an earlier bed and an earlier rise in order to exercise almost every day, as a way of kick-starting the year.
I am testing out a new word for this year, and will report back soon after meeting with my word-of-the-year partner. She should be the first to know.
This end-of-year has been different for me. I usually spend a solid chunk of time on my birthday, which falls on December 29th, journaling ideas about new projects and goals, often quite major, dreaming big shifts and possibilities. This birthday, nothing of significance cropped up. I thought and thought, and scribbled a bit, and talked it over with Kevin, but only came up with this: more of the same, please! Keep writing, keep taking photographs, keep being with the kids, keep exercising, keep spending time with Kevin, keep going to church, keep spending time with friends, keep staying open to possibilities sent by the universe. It feels a bit strange not to have a list of must-dos and want-to-dos, but I think it’s okay. I am where I am.
May your year be filled with what feeds and sustains you, too–whether it’s new or more of the same. Blessings.
Friday, Dec 31, 2010 | Holidays, Photos |
Waiting to open stockings till the youngest wakes up. Sticky buns on Christmas morning (knead in sixteen tablespoons of butter, please). “Can we play poker, Dad? Isn’t that what you always do with your friends?” The youngest absolutely thrilled with the discovery of the Christmas stocking. “I hope we get Christmas pajamas this year!” Food, food, food. Caroling. Family. Cousin’s first Christmas. “Can I hold the baby?” Not having to travel anywhere. Staying in pajamas all day.
Wednesday, Dec 29, 2010 | Baking, Cooking, Holidays, Kids, Music, Running, Yoga |
As we exit another Christmas season, I want to take time to note down, quickly, and for future reference, what worked for me this year: the rituals that held meaning, and why, and the little things that drew me into the magic of the holiday.
1. Cooking and baking. Yes, it’s a lot of work to make sticky buns fresh-baked for Christmas morning. And turkey dinner, and cookies, and treats, and all the rest of it. And I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing as my offering for the holiday.
2. Christmas eve service. This year, we attended an informal children’s service on Christmas eve. I’d been so busy all day with last-minute preparations that it was tempting to drop one thing off the list–and the service jumped to mind right away. No, I thought one beat later. And we went. And it was so lovely, and such a reminder of what Christmas celebrates, for many of us.
3. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I read this to the kids all in one gulp one evening leading up to Christmas. Everyone loved it. Of course, I cried at the end, and Fooey, perturbed, comforted me. This could be the beginning of an annual ritual.
4. The Christmas Story. Could it be Christmas without a viewing of that classic movie?
5. Songs. Getting to sing while my sister played piano, and one of my brothers played bass … for hours. Couldn’t be better. Even though it was nearly midnight, I wished we weren’t at the end of the songbook.
6. Music. The CBC played wonderful Christmas music all of Christmas day. I ate my first sticky bun to the Messiah. And I was peeling potatoes during the reading of the birth story, and found myself filling up with mystery and joy at the words of Luke 2:19: “And Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”
7. Ebb and flow. The best family events have a slowness to them, time to come together and drift and come back together again.
8. Gifts. I don’t know. It’s so much work. But I do love choosing gifts for family, and giving them. I prefer that the gifts aren’t the main focus of the event, but I do appreciate giving and receiving. I like making gifts, too. (And since my speciality is page design, photography, and writing, my children gave homemade gifts in that vein this year too: Albus made everyone a poster with a photo of one of his Star Wars Lego ships on it; and AppleApple wrote and touch-typed a new version of Noah’s Ark, and took photos to illustrate it using Playmobil figures; and then I laid them out, and my brother printed them at his press).
9. Not drinking too much. I didn’t. And I felt better for it.
10. Exercise. I managed to squeeze in the occasional run or yoga class, and always felt better for it.
11. Decorating the tree early! A month of Christmas.
12. Baking and delivering treats for neighbourhood friends.
:::
Things we didn’t do, that I would like to do next year: daily advent calendar activities; a night lantern walk on solstice; decorating a tree outside for the birds; Christmas cards for family and friends (sorry, family and friends, it somehow did not happen this year!).
:::
I also have a list of things that didn’t work … but that sounds like grousing. Now, today is my birthday, and I am celebrating by heading out for a few hours on my own. I look forward to a little time of uninterrupted reflection (she says, as her youngest climbs the stairs yelling, “Mommy where are you?”).
Tuesday, Dec 21, 2010 | Holidays, Recipes |
I’ve been using this recipe for many years, and it’s a keeper. The cookies above are not gingerbread, but roll-out sugar cookies. I doubled the recipe below, and it was easy to separate the dough and keep it wrapped in waxed paper in the fridge: rolling out and baking a fresh batch takes about twenty minutes, which made after-school snacks really easy last week.
Roll-Out Sugar Cookies
Cream together 2/3 cup softened butter and 3/4 cup white sugar. When light and fluffy, beat in 1 egg, 4 tsp milk (or cream), and 1 tsp vanilla. In a separate bowl, sift together 2 cups flour, 1 and 1/2 tsp baking powder, and 1/2 tsp salt. Optionally, add 1 tsp cinnamon. Combine wet and dry, mixing until the dough comes together. Divide dough in half, wrap in waxed paper, and chill in the fridge for at least half and hour. When ready to bake, roll out dough on a floured surface, cut out cookies, and bake on a greased cookie sheet at 375 for 8 minutes. Cool on rack. Decorate as desired. We like smarties.
Also from last week: Albus’s first ever piano recital, and the photographs: before and after.
