Bedtime snack: the legal and binding agreement
Ah, the dreaded Bedtime Snack. Arriving so soon after supper that I was often still elbow-deep in dishwater. Demands for variety, for a veritable menu of choices. Each child requesting something different. Spoons and bowls and crumbs and complaints. The growing suspicion that bedtime snack had become a more important meal, for some, than supper itself. Something had to give.
This was Kevin’s solution.
I didn’t post it immediately upon signing because I wanted to see whether or not it would stick. It didn’t entirely work over Christmas, what with the endless parade of eating and the crazy party hours we were keeping. But it’s been working pretty smoothly on more ordinary evenings.
Here is the full text:
BEDTIME SNACK AGREEMENT
This agreement is between “The Parents” and “The Kids”
Whereas, The parents agree to provide a substantial supper, NOTWITHSTANDING inedible suppers, the kids agree to receive a bedtime snack with no plate including but not limited to Apple slices and carrot sticks.
This agreement supercedes all previous agreements.
Signed at WATERLOO Dec. 21, 2011.
Aside from revealing my husband’s predeliction for random capitalization and punctuation (and the fact that I, his loving wife, will not let such things just pass by), the agreement highlights several important points: 1. no dirtying dishes post-supper 2. eat your supper 3. inedible means actually inedible not merely inedible in one person’s opinion.
For the past number of evenings, we’ve been snacking on apple slices and carrot sticks between episodes of Modern Family, which everyone in our house loves equally. Occasionally a cookie is thrown into the mix (no plate, ergo acceptable snack). We’ve even had several blissful evenings, post-supper, when all of the children have worked together with the parents to clear the table, help with the dishes, tidy the living-room and countertops, and vacuum–all in anticipation of the reward of sitting together as a family to watch Modern Family episodes.
We’ve never been a TV family, but there’s something so deeply pleasurable about sharing downtime together. We work together, then we get to hang out together. There’s a real connection to be made between effort and reward; and best of all, the work and responsibility is shared out, as in the snack agreement, not dumped on one or two in service to the rest. I don’t know whether this marks a lasting change–whether it will survive the return to routine and busyness–but let us hope so (or as Kevin might write let Us hope so). Because it’s been brilliant.
Sweet Keeper
A sweet keeper is a squash (did you know that? extra points for you).
Here’s another sweet keeper.
Write to me in poetry
How about a post with no photos of food or flowers?
I’d like you to meet Sheree Fitch. She is a Canadian writer, an author of many books for children, young adults, and adults too. And though I only know her virtually, her wit and energy and radiant spirit bubble off the page and out through the screen as vividly as if she were right here. Over Christmas, my little kids got a kick out my performance of her picture books Mabel Murple and There Were Monkeys in My Kitchen–I read them standing up because Sheree’s books are filled with words that whirl and spin and ask a reader to throw herself in. You’ll see what I mean when you read the poem below. Sheree wrote it in response to my recent post on the quotation,”Who begins too much accomplishes little,” and when I asked, she said I could share it here.
This is the first response I’ve ever received in POETRY! I love it. Yes, Blogland can be a most delightful world in which to dwell.
(once you begin
spin
spin
spin
get dizzy from the busy
let the outside in
the world whirls on
while the moon
beams
its munificent lopsided grin )
simply discombobulating
jumbled up and mumbling
topsy turvy tumbling
tipsy tummy tied in knots
spirogyrospiralling
swivelling like anything
ab-soul- utely apple carted downside up
simply discombobulating
jumbled up and mumbling
topsy turvy tumbling
teetertottery hurray
(Inspired by ……… http://carrieannesnyder.blogspot.com/2012/01/who-begins-too-much.html)
– by Sheree Fitch
Thank you, Sheree! (I’d like to hear you read it.)
Read the manual
Let me summarize what I learned yesterday. Mostly about taking photos.
1. Read the camera manual. Why not? It will cost you a mere fifteen minutes of your morning and you’ve owned the damn camera for [whispered] two years.
2. Depth of field. Look look look, it’s my blooming plants against a backdrop of window and beyond!
3. Compare the two photos. Can you spot the difference? This one is nice too, but this is what all my photos looked like before today. Apparently, my camera’s aperture was auto-set to create a shallow depth of field. Who knew?
4. Now I can do what I once thought impossible: take pictures of condensation on windows even in brilliant sunlight. Just gotta slooooooowwwww doooooowwwwnnnn that shutter speed.
5. As all three photos of our living-room windows painfully put on display, housecleaning is not my calling. Have pity and wash us, they cry. In voices too spotty to be heard.
6. This post is getting downright silly, but wait until you see the next photo. That will sober us all up.
7. Hungry? Thought not. And this was the best food photo of the day. Green bean hash if you’re wondering. Recipe not included. Yesterday’s food photography attempt taught me mostly what not to do. Don’t attempt to photograph food in artificial light. It gets dark early; photographing supper should really go on hold for a few months in favour of lunch or breakfast. Or mid-morning snacks. Also, don’t go for candid in food photography. You know, don’t start eating supper, then hop up and decide to photograph it. Trust me on this one.
8. Everything I don’t know! Buckets and buckets! I’ve got a shallow depth of field when it comes to this subject and I’m not too proud to admit it. Practice seems the best route to remedy that. Blog readers may be in for more flower photos than they should reasonably be expected to tolerate. (This one’s an orchid). Please accept my apologies. And some nice flowers to go along with them.
9. Finally, most importantly: What pleases my eye? Do I know? (For example, is this photo, unedited out of my camera, a touch too dark, or does it please, with what light there is catching the fingertips?) On automatic settings the camera tells me what to admire in terms of light and shadow, temperature and tone. On manual settings I have to puzzle beauty out for myself. You might call it the perfect challenge.
Who begins too much?
Found this German saying in the newspaper this morning: “Who begins too much accomplishes little.”
Uh oh. Is that me? As I woke at 5am, churned away at spin class, got home, ate breakfast, threw laundry in washer, thought about working on the writing project I’m developing, checked email instead, received message on how to use my camera better, spent next hour and a half playing with camera settings and taking random photos around the house, finally sat down at desk to work and started a new blog post. This one.
All the while, this is my morning to work while Kev hangs out with the kids. ie. my time is limited! And what have I done? Is it my habit to dart from project to project, from activity to activity, never fully developing the potential of any?
Maybe my word of the year should be focus. Or choose. Or limits.
Ugh. I don’t want a word like that. I want to do too many things. Not just do them, but master them, become expert at them. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?
(Yes it is, at least all at once, if experience is any guide.)
But everything in me wants to deny it. Wants to embrace the opportunities, chase all interests, learn with a hungry and curious mind.
Look at it this way:
**This morning I challenged my body and put in time and effort toward racing goals this summer.
**This morning I ate breakfast with my kids.
**This morning I learned something new and useful: how to adjust the aperture and shutter speed settings on my camera manually, and what effect these previously mysterious numbers have on the outcome of the photos I take every day.
**This morning I recorded, briefly, where my mind is at.
**This morning I connected with friends in person and via email.
And now I am going to open a word processing file and spend an hour, **this morning, working on The Big Fat Juicy Belly Worm. Yup. My project in development is a story for children. I read the first chapter to my kids last night, and I think they’d like to hear another one. What could be more motivating?
Sorry, German saying. You’re probably right, but I’m going with my manic energy this morning.
***
On a completely different note, this blog post titled “Read and Loved in 2011” by The Keepin’ It Real Book Club reached out of the blue and touched me **this morning. Read it and see for yourself.