Necessary Servile Work

What do you think? Moving the fridge and washing the floor underneath: would you consider that unnecessary, servile work, unsuitable for 730 AM on a Sunday morning? Aren't Sunday mornings the best times for twice annual cleaning jobs?

If you have (or have ever had) little children, you might know that some chores are necessary or not depending on the situation.

Like when your toddler tries to pull out of the fridge a gallon pitcher nearly full of red Koolaid...and fails, because it's so heavy...and spills the vast majority of it right there.

And half of it seems to get under the fridge, so that as you wash the floor in front, more seeps out from under in this angry, red puddle as though the refrigerator were hemorrhaging.

And you have to run to your bedroom to change out of your dry clean only church skirt because there's no way to avoid getting down on your hands and knees to handle this job (and while on your knees you pause to pray, through gritted teeth, for patience).

So, sometimes, a seemingly unnecessary job is really a necessary job. Even for a Sunday morning.

Katie's Birthday

Katie's birthday was...quite a while ago (two Fridays ago). I'm just not getting to the computer much these days.

Oh, actually, I was waiting for my in-laws to come down with their presents so I could just do one birthday post...yeah...

Since Jenny's birthday is only a few weeks away, Nana thought it best to just give both girls their presents at once. They already own the dolls but they got the desks and school supplies and school clothes for their birthday. Very appropriate for this time of year. They love the gifts, of course.

Katie took birthday money from my parents and bought this stuffed dog. Because she needed another stuffed animal. Of course. Every girl needs another stuffed animal.

She was thrilled when the delivery man arrived with her present from Daddy. Bill has decided to make himself a tough act to follow. Imagine her in ten years: "What? You didn't get me flowers? My daddy always gets me flowers! You obviously don't love me."

It was difficult to beat the smiles generated by that present, but at least my gift is a bit longer lasting. We're moving into the big girl years with pierced ears. Next, it'll be high heels and make up...

Happy Birthday, Bill

Yesterday, Bill's parents, the kids, Neighbor Girl and I went to Friendly's for ice cream sundaes to celebrate Bill's birthday. The kids have not been to a Friendly's since we lived in New Jersey (2005), so this was quite a treat. Wish you could have been there, honey.

My sister sent this cute photo of her and her husband toasting my husband. She doesn't say what they're drinking, but I'll guess some sort of Pale Ale for him and cranberry juice with vodka for her.

Thanks to everybody who has left comments on Bill's blog. He has appreciated them.

Where Education Takes a Right Turn

My boys have been hard at work copying the schematics for the Battle of Balaclava as found in The Dangerous Book for Boys.



Why?



Well, Fritz is memorizing The Charge of the Light Brigade for school, and we just had to find out what the poem was about.



Every boy should know this poem. What fabulous lines:



..."Forward the Light Brigade
Charge for the guns," he said...



...Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd...



...Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell...



Every parent's child should know this poem:



...Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die...



Until your kids get so smart that they point out that blind obedience led to a disaster...



For history this year, Fritz is studying Ancient Egypt.



And the Crimean War.


Updated: Did I mention I'm not a student of military affairs? My husband emailed me to point out that the Americans weren't at the Battle of Balaclava. I don't think the Germans were, either. Hey, one battle plan looks like any other to me. Apparently, the boys are not studying the Crimean War as much as Military Science, and they're just making their own battle plans for some imaginary war. I have just ruled out "spy" as a career plan for me once I'm done raising babies.

Mary in the Morning

Once she learned that certain shows could be viewed from my computer, she began demanding to watch the moment she woke up. She doesn't care that there are emails from Daddy waiting to be read.

It's OK. I'm forcing myself to pray and read first thing in the morning.

As an aside, my oldest son was also an early riser...and I mean early: before 5 AM and raring to go, just like Mary. I remember hearing the sage advice of an experienced mom saying that mothers needed to get up at least a half hour before their children to have some personal time. She, obviously, did not have really early risers. I am an early riser, but I draw the line at 5 AM. I think it is unreasonable for anyone to be expected to get up before then, and my advice to mothers in that position is to have patience and teach your toddler his numbers as soon as possible. When he can identify the number 6, get him a digital clock for his bedroom and forbid him to come out until the first number is a 6. There is hope; you just have to wait three years and pray the next baby likes to sleep late.

After she gets bored with "See Tee" - which I think means "See TV" - she wants "bubbles" in the sink. She makes a mess, but at least I get time to read the latest love note from hubby.

Usually she stands on the step, but she recently learned that she could get higher by standing on the handle. And she has learned that she can continue onto the counter this way. After 6 kids, I've seen it all, but that doesn't make me much calmer when I look over and see her sitting 42" off the ground.

A friend in need...

Friend: Can I take Fritz and Billy to the pool with my boys?

Me: Sure!

Friend: And can I leave my 13 year old daughter at your house to babysit so you can do stuff?

Me: Oh, yes!

...is a friend indeed!

A Guide for Spiritual Survival

Tracking Virtue, Conquering Vice: A Guide for Spiritual Survival by Rev. Joseph F. Classen is a book for nature enthusiasts who see God in the beauty of the world around them. Each chapter begins with a story, generally centered around a hunting trip, which serves as a platform to discuss one particular vice. Each chapter concludes with a virtue which serves to combat that vice, and Father Classen offers some general ideas on how to employ those virtues in a practical way.

Although I love, really love, the outdoors, I am not a hunter. In fact, I'm pretty squeamish about killing animals in general. Don't get me wrong: I love to eat meat. I'm just thankful that I don't have to personally kill it, dress it, butcher it. If I did have to do that, I just might eat more vegetables.

But I don't think there is anything wrong with hunting. In fact, I agree that there is something wrong with me. Father Classen paints beautiful pictures of the areas where he has been hunting. I fully appreciate his joy in seeing God's vistas. I, too, feel as though my heart will burst when confronted with a perfect blue in the sky contrasting with brilliant colors on changing leaves. But Father Classen goes on to express his appreciation for a deer or a turkey, a gift from God, which He has given to mankind to sustain our life. I do not have as much appreciation for my turkey bought at the grocery store, as Father Classen has for his Thanksgiving dinner. And that's my problem. My homemade bread tastes so much better than store-bought, and my appreciation of homemade bread is deeper due to my personal labor. The more removed we are from the process of procuring food, the less gratitude we feel for it.

But I digress.

Reading this book is like sitting around a campfire listening to hunting stories with theology mixed in. The lessons are short, entertaining and easy-to-understand. These are not deep discourses in metaphysics, but rather clear and practical homilies.

I do think hunters and fishers will enjoy the book more than non-hunters and fishers. I did know what I was getting into when I selected this book; I picked it mostly for my husband, who wants to hunt but has always lacked time, opportunity, and/or equipment (I helped him out with some of the equipment not too long ago, the other issues will have to wait until after his deployment). The book went off to the Post Office today. I think he will enjoy it.


This review was written as part of The Catholic Company product reviewer program. Visit The Catholic Company to find out more about Tracking Virtue, Conquering Vice.

Birthday Blog Hijacking II

Last year, I hijacked Bill's blog to celebrate his birthday. This year, I've done it again, but with a different assignment:

This coming Sunday, Bill turns 41. He won't wake up in a soft bed next to his wife. His kids won't charge in with homemade birthday cards. He won't have good home cooking catered to his personal taste. He won't go to Mass, and he won't kick back with a nice cold brew on a hot summer afternoon.

But we can do all those things. So, sometime in the next week, have a drink and toast Bill and all the other soldiers who are away from home. Say a prayer for his safety, and for my sanity. And leave a note {at his blog} (it will go to his email) telling him exactly what drink you're having in his honor. He prefers beer, but it can be whatever you like, even ice cold lemonade.


You can leave a comment on his blog, or you can leave it here. He'll get them either way.

Thanks!

Adding Lysol to the shopping list

Today was a crappy day. Literally.

First, the dog went to the bathroom on the treadmill. This is not the first time. The first time, I felt bad for her. The second time, I felt bad for me. A friend called while I was in the middle of cleaning it up that second time and asked me how my day was going. When I told her what I was doing, she laughed excessively and thanked me for making her feel better. No matter how bad her day was, at least she wasn't sanitizing her treadmill. I was so glad to provide such a day-brightening service for her.

This was the third time, and I did take her out before putting her on the treadmill, and she went. Then she loitered. I should have known she was loitering with a purpose. My 4 year old does the exact same thing. But I hustled her in, and then later paid for my impatience.

About an hour later, I heard Mary up from her nap, but she wasn't calling to be rescued. Now I know, I know, I know that if a toddler plays happily in her crib after awakening from a good, long nap, it is a sure sign that she has a stinky diaper. Guaranteed. I've been dealing with toddlers for a decade now, and this is just the way it is.

But I was trying to get everybody organized and out the door for errands, and was just thankful she didn't need my attention while I took care of things. When I finally told everybody to "Saddle up!" I went in to get her. Oh. My.

If I ever have grandchildren, I will hand back stinky babies to their parents.

And I will not own pets.

I'm pooped. Literally.

Real Food: Part II The Cake

When I was planning my wedding, I happened to be alone with the caterer to make the final selections on the food, etc. Bill and I had, of course, discussed everything, we thought, in advance. But somehow I was unclear what his wishes were for the cake flavor (the design we discussed, but not the flavor). At the time, I didn't know much about cakes, and looked at the list of at least a dozen different combinations. I finally settled on one that included Grand Marnier as an ingredient. I don't think I really knew what Grand Marnier was, but it sounded really grown-up.

"Unusual selection," said the woman.

"Uh-oh," I thought. I, myself, am an "unusual selection" sort of person. My husband is definitely not. My husband is a "traditional selection" sort of person. But I went with it anyway, and hoped for the best.

The cake was delicious.

Fast forward a dozen years, and I find a recipe in The Fannie Farmer Baking Book for a wedding cake that includes Grand Marnier. (If you do not own this baking book, I highly recommend it. It is to baking what Joy of Cooking is to cooking.) I resolved to make this cake for the next special occasion to see if it was anything like my wedding cake. But every special occasion (baby's baptism, baby's first birthday, child's First Holy Communion) came at times that were stressful enough to not need to add elaborate cake baking to the mix. I am not a fabulous baker, especially not of cakes and pies (cookies, no problem). So when push came to shove, I just went with a box mix.

Fast forward again to last April and planning for Katie's First Holy Communion. My friend, who came for birthday dinner last weekend (see Real Food: Part I), decided to join the celebration of her daughter's First Holy Communion with mine. In divvying up responsibilities, she said she would make the cake. I told her about The Recipe and how I had wanted to make it for baptisms and how I wanted to make it for First Birthdays and how I wanted to make it for First Holy Communions. She didn't get that I had wanted to, but that I, in fact, had not.

She agreed to make the special cake.

The afternoon before the First Holy Communion, she called and asked me a question about the icing on the cake. "I don't know," I answered, "I've never made the cake before."

"What?!?" she spluttered. "I thought this was The Reitemeyer Family Traditional Cake used for your wedding and all special occasions!" I laughed, cleared up the misunderstanding, and assured her any substitutions she felt necessary would be acceptable.

The next day we all told her that it tasted exactly like The Reitemeyer Family Traditional Cake.

Her cake was delicious, and she had used the recipe for the batter. But she did not: split the layers in half, sprinkle one side with Grand Marnier and the other side with orange flower water, or use the orange butter cream filling suggested. It really is an elaborate recipe.

Fast forward to last week when my friend and I decided to celebrate her birthday here. "What kind of cake would you like?" I asked her.

"I want The Reitemeyer Family Traditional Cake," she teased.

Well, okay then. I even went online and ordered orange flower water since I am 100% sure that the local grocery stores would carry no such thing.

I wrapped the batter filled pans with wet toweling to keep them flat when they bake. This is an excellent trick, and I've saved that old cut up dish towel to do this whenever I bake a cake.

I split the baked layers in half and sprinkled them. I made the orange butter cream frosting and filled the layers. I did substitute White Mountain Frosting for the Seven Minute Frosting because I don't have a hand mixer (you'll have to get the book if you want the recipes).

The result: interesting. Did I mention I'm not a fabulous cake baker? It's a good thing I have many years to practice baking before any of my children get married and ask for The Traditional Cake.

I will try this recipe again. The flavor was quite good, and very sophisticated. Very grown-up. Definitely a special occasion flavor. I liked the Grand Marnier. The orange water is very distinctive, very noticeable. It was okay. I'd like to try it without to see if I prefer that more.

The biggest change I need to make is in the butter cream frosting. I made the entire recipe which is designed to fill a wedding cake three times the size. I really like butter cream frosting, but it is one of those things where more is not better. The filling was way too thick and made the cake too too buttery. It was like eating a stick of butter with a little cake on the side. Some people like that, but I don't.

I would also like to try the Seven Minute Frosting to see if it tastes much different.

Lastly, I much prefer lemon to orange flavor, so I would try it with the lemon flavored butter cream frosting, omitting the Grand Marnier (which is orange flavored). The cake batter yields a dense, moist cake which is well suited to other fillings (my friend used jam for the First Holy Communion party).

So there is my long cake story. By the time I am a grandmother, I plan to be a skilled baker. They will never believe all these years of trial and much error.

DIY tax evasion

The rebel in me loves this story: Do-It-Yourself Cigarettes? Virginia Smokers Start Growing Tobacco

"Cigarette smokers say, 'Yeah, we're going to die of cancer, but do we have to die of poverty as well?"' said Jack Basharan, who operates The Tobacco Seed Co. Ltd. in Essex, England.

Oh, I just love it when the common man finds yet another way to stick it to the tax and wastefully spend government.

Besides, home-grown tobacco is surely the organic, healthier choice.

Learning styles of little ones

Your Baby Is Smarter Than You Think

They don't actually use the term "unschooling" in this op-ed, but that is pretty much what they are defending for the 5 and under crowd. I couldn't agree more.

Time

I've noticed that evening comes earlier now. Rocking the baby to bed at 830 pm, it seems to be pretty dark out. These steaming days of late August will carry on into September as usual, but they are but the opening notes of Summer's grand finale.

I welcome autumn. I won't miss the humidity, or the mosquitoes. I won't miss the stress of taking non-swimmers to the pool. I won't miss these "relaxing" days of summer that, frankly, this summer, were not.

Maybe I just don't know how to relax. Maybe I just can't relax without my husband here to take care of all the worrying and fussing and the what-ifs.

At the grocery store yesterday, Katie had a non sequitor question: "Mommy, is it almost time for Halloween?" I told her no.

"Then why is all the Halloween candy out?" And I looked up from trying to keep Mary pinned to the seat while selecting bagels and checking my list and reminding myself not to forget the half-and-half which I did later, after all, forget. Sure enough, the seasonal display had heaps of orange and black wrapped treats.

"They do it to drive mothers nuts," said a smiling woman pushing her own child-filled cart in passing. I then lost myself in thoughts of how brilliant these marketers were to put the candy out early, so you buy it so you don't have to think about it any more, then you eat it, or you forget that you bought it, and you buy more - genius! I almost missed her second line, which I heard with perfect Doppler Effect:

"They'll have the Christmas candy out before you know it."

Oh, I hope so. More than I welcome the cool days of fall and the beauty of changing leaves and the comfort of a school routine and the return to hot food to warm chilly bodies, I long for the approach of winter and the return of my husband. May the days fly by.

He left seven weeks ago today. We have 19 more to go. It's not that long; we've survived worse, I keep reminding myself. Not too long ago, seven weeks seemed like an eternity. Now, it seems like nothing compared to what I have left to do. In twelve weeks, seven weeks will again, likely, seem like an eternity.

But it will come. And then I will hope once more for time to stand still.

Check it out

The best jobs are when somebody pays you to do something you do for free most of the time anyway.

Maybe I shouldn't admit that?

P.S. That photo is my second oldest son hugging my husband when he returned home from his year long deployment in 2004. Bill's friend came with him for our private reunion just so he could take pictures for us. It was another 10 days or more before the friend got to see his family.

More on Movie Night

Interesting timing. After my post about movies the other day, I saw this article today: The Fifty Best Catholic Movies of All Time. The "Catholic" criteria is pretty loose, which makes the selection broad, and it's not a list specifically for children, which doesn't mean that there aren't kid-friendly movies on there, it just means you'd have to check them out a bit further.

The list was compiled 10 years ago (oh, but to have an article of mine still being circulated a decade later!), and comments are encouraged for other suggestions, especially modern movies. There are a substantial number of additional movies listed. Happy viewing.

Real Food: Part 1 1/2

Mary wasn't very hungry for pizza by the time dinner came around.

Inexplicable.

Decisions, decisions...

Do I take the clothes off the line at 930 PM, or will it just wait until morning?

Real Food: Part I

Never, ever would I serve hot dogs for dinner to my husband. Lunch, perhaps, especially if I were turning the grill on, too. But not dinner.

But the kids like hot dogs, and I like easy meals, so we do, occasionally, have hot dogs for dinner when Bill is gone. Which is every day for those of you who aren't paying attention.

In fact, in the interest of happy kids and simplicity, the types of food I've been serving for the last 6 weeks have been pretty basic. And now that tomatoes are ripe, I think BLTs for dinner once or twice (or three or four times) per week is perfectly acceptable. A thick slice of fresh tomato is on my top 100 list of proofs that God exists and loves us very much. For my own personal reference, I'm going to include this link to Jenn's tomato recipes. I'll be making some salsa this coming week, I think.

*****

A friend and I were trying to coordinate going to confession together. One of us could watch the under 7 crowd outside of the church while the other monitored the behavior of the others standing in line and herself too went to confession. Despite our church's generous confession schedule of 4 times per week, we were having a difficult time coming up with one that worked for both of us. Finally we got to yesterday, and neither of us had a conflict. In fact, I discovered that her husband would be TDY, and it was her birthday.

(Wouldn't it be lovely to be born on a Marian feast day? She said as a kid it was awful because she always had to go to church!)

So we decided to meet at the church for confession, stay for Mass and then come to my house for dinner and cake and ice cream. In Part II, I'll talk about the cake.

For the kids, I decided to do pizza with my homemade and pre-baked crust. Pre-baking the crust and then storing it in the freezer means I can have pizza on the table in 15 minutes. Homemade pizza dough takes 90 minutes to make, and then I shape it into balls and rest it for 10 minutes, then I roll it out and let it rest for another 10 minutes, and then I add toppings and bake for 20 minutes (or just pre-bake for 10 minutes). Pizza is NOT a quickie dinner at our house, usually.

I was trying to come up with something for the grownups to eat, because having someone for whom to cook is the excuse I need to eat more sophisticated fare. I belong to a farm share program (which has been delivering me the yummy tomatoes I've been eating), and in this week's box they included eggplant and this recipe:

Rigatoni with creamy eggplant and mozzarella

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 medium onion, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
2 medium eggplant, medium dice
1 (15 ounce) can crushed tomatoes
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup loosely packed thinly sliced fresh basil leaves
1 pound rigatoni or penne regate
8 ounces buffalo mozzarella, small dice

Saute onion and garlic in the oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. When just soft, add the eggplant, stir to coat in oil and then stir rarely until soft and golden brown, about 5 minutes. Remove half the eggplant mixture and reserve.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta according to package directions and drain.

To the eggplant mixture, reduce heat to medium-low, add the tomatoes, cream and half the basil. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for about 4 minutes.

Add sauce to drained pasta and stir to coat. Add reserved eggplant, remaining basil and mozzarella and mix until cheese begins to soften. Serve immediately.


I had never had eggplant before, but I was willing to try this recipe. My friend told me she prepares her eggplant dishes by salting the eggplant at least 30 minutes before using and then rinsing the salt off thoroughly. She said it makes the eggplant less bitter. I left the sliced and salted eggplant in the fridge while I was at a church. Having never had eggplant before, I can not tell if this step made a difference or not.

This dish was very delicious. I wouldn't have taken the time to type up the recipe if not, right? I don't think my kids would care for it, but I will make it again sometime and have them try it.

My friend would have been happy had I served her the pizza. I'm glad I used her birthday as an excuse to make and share a new dish. And to eat some real food for a change.

*****

We concluded the evening by praying the rosary together. We couldn't let that plenary indulgence opportunity go to waste! It was a lovely way to spend the Feast of the Assumption.

Movie Night: What not to pick

Katie's birthday is Friday and we're trying to pick out a movie to watch for a birthday movie night.

She had seen previews for The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep and really really really wanted to see it. So I checked it out here.


Now, when Bill was deployed back in 2003, Fritz was 5 and we watched E.T. That's a fun movie, right? Well, there's that bit about him dying towards the end, but he comes back and goes home and everybody lives happily ever after.

But the themes of separation, loss and going home were too much for my kids. Instead of smiles, I had sobbing.

I've learned to be a bit more selective in choosing themes now when my kids are having rough times.


On to The Water Horse and the USCCB website review says:

"Engaging but, by the end, surprisingly intense fantasy adventure, set during World War II, in which a forlorn Scottish boy (Alex Etel), coping with the absence of his sailor father..."

"...starts off unthreateningly, but gets steadily more ominous as it moves toward a turbulent climax that would likely frighten most young children."


Yeah, I think we'll skip this one for now.

Any suggestions for happy, fun, amusing rentals for mixed ages and genders but all 11 and under?

I'm holding him back

Peter: Mommy, I can't find my Latin book.

Me: You don't have a Latin book.

Peter: Why not?

Me: Um...do you want me to teach you Latin?

Peter: No.

Me: Well, OK then.


Just like his oldest brother: knows he needs to do Latin, but doesn't want to.

Via email

From Bill:

As of today, I am 23.194% complete. Only 19.53 weeks or 136.72 days or 3281.17 hours or 196,870.09 minutes or 11,812,205.33 seconds to go.


Not that we're counting or anything.

Off to an intentionally slow start

I have nothing on my calendar for today - thank goodness. I don't know how I always get so busy, but it is exhausting.

We started "school-lite" this week: math and Latin. That's more than enough. I really do like easing into the school year. My two boys are using DIVE videos for the first time, so we're figuring out how that works and also doing time management.

Two subjects, four students.

But to give you an example of the challenges I face, one student who has no desire to do math or Latin and who thinks that giving me a hard time will - I don't know - make me decide that we should just skip those subjects? Really, I have no idea what he hopes to accomplish. Anyway, he was showing me just how difficult math is by wrinkling his brow and acting constipated. And what exactly was the problem that was giving him such trouble? Complex algebra? Long division? Word problems written in French?

9 + 8

I told him he should have picked something just a tad more difficult if he were going to pull such dramatics.

So, this is why I am glad we're starting off small. 90 minutes more or less of school is good for the first week, especially when nobody else in the area has even begun to think about it.

One other sure sign that school has begun in my house is the antics of the younger crowd, including Jenny who is not learning Latin and whose math takes all of 15 minutes. Peter keeps begging for a playmate, so we will work on following the full school year routine I laid out which actually has someone assigned to him to keep him occupied. Jenny's downtime has been relatively benign.

Here is her self portrait taken while waiting for Katie to finish math.





She took a half dozen pictures of the sunroom: things on the wall, the ceiling fan. Harmless, quiet self-absorption. Wish she did this more often.

Mary, of course, is the biggest trouble-maker. It's her age-appropriate nature. First she got her hands on the white-out pens. Fortunately, I own some Goof Off. The linoleum looks just fine now.

Then it was the magic markers. She currently into body art. And even washable markers take several days for the ink to get off skin. I buy markers once a year - at the beginning of the school year. When they're gone, they're gone. If the kids can't keep them put away and monitored closely when in use, they will be gone very soon.

Then it was the half-eaten yogurt all over her and the dining room table.

If you look closely, you can see the lines from the markers. Her legs are twice as bad.


Right now she's soaking wet from playing with soapy water in the sink. It's what I have to do to type a blog post. The floor is wet, too, but this is an easy cleanup compared to hand soap rubbed all over the bathroom mirror, another of her favorite pastimes. She's bored now, and thus ends my writing for today.

Cookies to the Front

Last weekend we made cookies.

Rather, I made cookies.

I have realized that I am a selfish chef. I do not like to have my children helping me in the kitchen. I find cooking and baking to be a gloriously solitary pursuit. I'm working on this. I do consider competence in the kitchen to be a prerequisite for adulthood, and it is my responsibility to teach it. But for these cookies, it was mostly just me.

I made three different types: crinkled molasses cookies, peanut butter with chocolate chips, and a variation on snickerdoodles. I have a different recipe than the one listed here, but they are all fairly similar: it's a sugar cookie rolled in cinnamon sugar. These were a favorite from my childhood, and I make them every so often for my kids. Sometimes, I make what I call cinnerdoodles instead, and I put the cinnamon in the dough and just roll them in sugar. They are a bit more cinnamon-y. That's what I did this time.

Of course, the cookies weren't really for us, they were for my husband. I hope they survive the journey.

We saved some for us, too.

Yesterday we headed to the post office, and I asked Fritz to carry the heavy box out to the van.

"What's in here?" he groaned.

"Cookies, M&Ms, magazines, your dad's Cincinnati Reds hat, a cigar cutter..."

"Cigars?!?"

"Yes, I ordered your dad some cigars for his birthday."

"They're allowed to smoke there?"

"Yes, honey, they can't drink, but they can smoke."

"That doesn't make any sense! Smoking is much worse than drinking!"

These are the life lessons my kids are learning. Of course, the drinking that goes on here is very moderate. I grew up with a dad who smoked a pipe, but rarely drank - not because he thought alcohol was bad, but because it just wasn't his thing. I considered (still consider) pipe and cigar smoking, in moderation, as a harmless and rather pleasant pastime, but as a kid thought drinking was dangerous and even bad. Interesting.

Lost his head

It's a good thing I knew that Katie wanted a picture of her daddy for an inexpensive heart-shaped locket she owned. She abandoned her work, I suppose to retrieve the locket, and I happened upon this disturbing scene:

Ouch!

On the Road Again

Yes, no helmet and no shoes. I survived childhood without them, and I'm sure my kids will, too.

Peter is riding a balance bike. It has two wheels but no pedals. He loves it. Loves loves loves it.

We bought him a balance bike two Christmases ago. He was 2 1/2. It was an inexpensive wooden model, and it was just a tad too big for him. But that's OK. Kansas is pretty cold in the winter time. By spring, he was big enough and had already gotten the hang of it by riding in the basement.

He loved that bike. But it was an inexpensive wooden model, and it kept falling apart. We kept putting it back together, but when the falling apart started happening more often than the staying together, and when the falling apart started causing injuries (especially since he wears no shoes or helmet), we decided it was time to get him another one.

Supposedly, little European children use balance bikes instead of tricycles and then when they are four, they go straight to two-wheels with no training wheels. Peter is four, but I knew there would be a learning curve with a two-wheeler, plus we have a bike all ready for him when he's five. So I opted to stick with what he loves, just better.

This time I went with a Strider bike which is metal and has an easily adjustable seat and handle bars. On the lowest setting, Mary (22 months and small) could have fit on it. Peter's setting is about halfway up, so he has room to grow.

This kid is so happy. For several days after he got the bike, he was glowing. He would sigh happy sighs and give me hugs and kisses all.day.long. He said thank you and I love you a bazillion times. He just loves this bike.

Google Me

Somebody found my blog by googling "crazy old mom."

Happy Monday!

Sunday Morning Controversy

Controversial Doll Lets Little Girls Pretend to Breast-Feed

I just had to read this article. I don't prefer toys that require batteries or make noises, and I don't think my daughters need shirts with drop-down access, so I am not in the market for this sort of thing. My daughters have all been perfectly happy shoving stuffed animals up their shirts with no prompting from me. They just do what they see mommy doing. It's perfectly natural.

But what strikes me in this article are the anti-crowd's remarks.

"...parents around the world have criticized Berjuan, saying the idea of breast-feeding is too grown-up for young children -- and may even promote early pregnancy."

Breast-feeding - providing nourishment for an infant - is too grown-up a concept for little children? Ummm...???

Promotes early pregnancy? Maybe we should hide all babies from anyone under the age of 25 so that no little girl gets the idea that they are cute and would like one. Keeping in mind this is a Spanish manufacturer and knowing the unsustainably low birthrate in Europe, I guess it's not so much a matter of hiding the babies...they just don't have babies. It's one way to combat teen pregnancy: discourage children in general.

Dr. Manny Alvarez, managing health editor of FOXNews.com, said although he supports the idea of breast-feeding, he sees how his own daughter plays with dolls and wonders if Bebe Gloton might speed up maternal urges in the little girls who play it.

Heavens knows we don't want little girls to have any maternal urges. Why do we even let stores sell those kitchens and dishes and pretend food? Why have we not banned or at least discouraged dolls in the first place? Toy stores should sell pink tools sets and pink hard hats and pink briefcases. None of this "mommy" stuff.

“Pregnancy has to entail maturity and understanding,” Alvarez said. “It’s like introducing sex education in first grade instead of seventh or eighth grade. Or, it could inadvertently lead little girls to become traumatized. You never know the effects this could have until she’s older.”

Is he suggesting we want our youth having sex in the seventh grade? If sex education in the 1st grade might correlate to sex at an early age, wouldn't sex education in the seventh grade also correlate to sex at an early age? Really, can't we all agree that 13 year olds should not be having sex? (I'm not promoting ignorance here, just saying that his argument is weak).

So, wouldn't little girls pretending to breastfeed likely have the effect of them wanting to breastfeed their own real babies when they are older? Isn't this a good thing?

Alvarez said breast-feeding reduces childhood infections, strengthens maternal bonding and increases the child’s immune system. But introducing breast-feeding to girls young enough to play with dolls seems inappropriate, he said.

Inappropriate? Truly this is a holdover attitude from someone who thinks women should excuse themselves to a private location to nurse their child.

“What’s next?” wrote Eric Ruhalter, a parenting columnist for New Jersey’s Star Ledger. “Bebe Sot — the doll who has a problem with a different kind of bottle, and loses his family, job and feelings of self-worth? Bebe Limp — the male doll who experiences erectile dysfunction? Bebe Cell Mate — a weak, unimposing doll that experiences all the indignation and humiliation of life in prison?

"Toy themes should be age appropriate. I think so anyway.”

Comparing breastfeeding to issues such as low self-esteem, sexual dysfunction and incarceration is ludicrous.

Again, a big chunk of the world seems to need reminding that breastfeeding is not about sex. Breasts were made for feeding a baby, not primarily as playtoys. It is sad that our culture is so warped and sex-obsessed. We have all the collective maturity of a bunch of high schoolers where everything has a double entendres.

There is nothing more age appropriate than a little girl imitating motherly activities: cooking, cleaning, nurturing babies. I'm happy that my daughters have all rocked, cradled and "breastfed" their dolls or teddy bears.

And I'm happy that they need to be taught what that bottle thingy is.

Fresh Minty Smell

All I really want is for the kids to keep the bathroom doors closed.

OK, that's not all I really want. But it's a good start.

I do have to admire her resourcefulness. She was thirsty, and the door was open. So she climbed up on the counter, sat in the sink and poured herself a cup of water.

This is Mary, of course. The other "she"s in the house know how to get a drink properly: whine.

But yesterday at dinner time, Mary had disappeared. She was right there, and then she was gone. We sent out a hunt, but she fooled us. She now closes doors behind her so we don't know she's gotten in. Clever little devil. She was in my bathroom and had gotten her hands on the toothpaste. That blasted Colgate has toddler-friendly flip tops. I really wish Crest would start putting coupons in the paper.

Anyway, there I find her with her hands full of toothpaste. She sees me and knows she's being naughty, so she runs and tries to hide...behind my bathrobe. The one I just washed the day before.

The one that now needs to be washed again.

One day I'm sure I'll look back and find this all very funny. That's why I blog it, right?

Miracle or Mystery?

I just love this article about the Tilma of Juan Diego. I didn't know about the accident with nitric acid or the bomb blast.

You can have two reactions to this: either it's a miracle, or it's an unsolved mystery. If it's a miracle, you can be at peace and let it go. If it's an unsolved mystery, it will nag at you and drive you crazy.

Yet Another Reason to Despise the Taxman

IRS approves exemption for pro-life group after ‘prejudicial’ investigation

The IRS had reportedly sought “details” about the content of Coalition for Life members’ prayers at a Planned Parenthood facility.


Just another day in the life of the Thought Police.

Annoying is Normal

On the way back from the pool the other day, Fritz and Billy were making Neighbor Girl crazy. Fritz was talking in an old man voice (he learned it from his father), and Billy was talking in his "Billy-Bob-Joe-Bob" country bumpkin voice (I do not know where he got the name or the voice...probably from his father). Neighbor Girl was actually offering them candy if they would stop it, but annoying her was worth so much more than a few lousy Smartees.

As they went back and forth, only a few times breaking character to laugh at how funny they found themselves, she finally pleaded, "Speak normally!"

From the front of the van, I couldn't help myself and chimed in, "Oh, but they are speaking normally!"

Ten Minutes

"Go get the phone," I told Fritz as I was putting Peter's shoes on so we could leave for VBS. He dutifully ran for it. "Answer it!" I yelled after him. Normally my kids fetch the phone and let me answer it, unless the special ring indicates it is someone they know. There was no special ring, and I had no idea who it was, but I knew if he didn't answer it, it would be sent to voicemail before it got to me.

"Hi, Dad!" I heard him say. So glad I sent him for that phone!

We talked for just ten minutes - I had to go. But as I drove to church, I realized I had a smile on my face, and the day, rainy and cool though it was, seemed so lovely and bright.

All because of ten little minutes.

A word to the wise

Do not pick your nose after chopping a jalapeno pepper.

But he was born yesterday...

I have finished lesson plans for my 1st grader, my 3rd grader and my 4th grader. They were fairly easy, since I have done those grades before.

I pulled up the 4th grade lesson plans to use them as a template for Fritz's lesson plans. After saving with a new name, I made my first change: delete FOURTH and change it to SIXTH.

I have a sixth grader.

When did THAT happen?

More Baby Signing Time, please

The last thing a baby with 5 older siblings needs is more toys. I think we bought Mary the Baby Signing Time videos (Vol I and II) for her 1st birthday.

She loves them.

She watches one or the other every day. And she uses the signs, too. {As an aside, there is not much point to having your baby watch these videos if you don't too. Mary was signing "ball" a few weeks ago, but I had had my nose in a book during that lesson and had no idea what she was saying.}

These short (30 minute) videos are a fun introduction to sign language. An adult (Rachel Coleman) shows the proper way to make the sign and gives a hint to help you remember it. Then you see children and their parents making these signs too, all while a catchy song is being sung. Two dozen signs are covered in the video which is entertaining for all ages.

I only wish I hadn't waited until my sixth kid to get these. Mary's 2nd birthday is coming up in a few months, and I will be getting her the original signing time for older kids. If Signing Time is a favorite of yours, which volumes do you like best?

desperate measures

The squirrels figured out how to open the bird suet feeder.




They chewed off the bread bag twisty-ties I used to secure it.





They somehow managed to remove the paperclip I fastened there yesterday.





If they foil me on this safety device, I will set up a video camera to catch them in the act.



Note: I bought that combination lock at Staples. You push the dial between the four directions: north-south-east-west, and you can set your own code. It helps if you have a sentence to remember your combination: Ethel Works Whenever She Wants New Stuff. The combination can be as long as you want. Bill needed four locks for his gear, didn't want to have keys that would get lost, and didn't want to have to remember different combinations. These locks helped greatly.