The things that Rub Off

Yesterday was our great eight year anniversary.  We celebrated by going to a memorial service and then working on our own individual work, by which I mean that Dan studied his something medically and I played on the laptop in the basement.  I ask you though dear reader, how much "studying" do you think a body does while lying on the bed?  So I call our productivity level even.  There was no big fan fair, no out for dinner, no real presents either.  I made him some homemade freezer jam (mostly because the strawberries weren't going to last too much longer.). He got me the fixings for some s'mores and a card.  The s'mores were because he invited me on a family camp out Friday night and into Saturday since he will be post call.  Sounds pretty good to me.

This was not what I thought my anniversary would be like growing up.  I thought I'd be the couple doing fancy, special things.  Turns out I'm not.  And I'm pretty ok with that.  You want to know why?

Daniel

That man has rubbed off on me.  I turned off our AC a few days ago because I was feeling chilled inside our house.  In the middle of summer.  Ridiculous.  I haven't turned it back on.  Mostly because I don't think we really need it on at the moment, but at the same time think of the money we're saving!  This is Daniel's doing.

I have recently developed a habit of losing my phone.  This is because I don't always take my phone with me places.  Shocking, I know.  Then when I need it I have to search for it.  You know what though? It's kind of nice not being connected to my phone.  Turns out I'm more connected to the people I'm with.  You know who never answers his phone? Daniel.

He is so serious and pragmatic and sensible.  It's a good thing that there's also a lot about him that tickles my funny bone and is also ridiculous.  It endears him to me.  Hopefully I can do the same for him. We truly have had a great eight.

The Things We Do

Today Dan and I attended a memorial service for the 30 year old son of a consultant Dan works with.  We never met him, but Dan really liked the consultant and he and his wife have been so very gracious to us.

I talked to Charlotte about why she was going to a friend's house while we were gone and what we were doing.  I realized that trying to explain our social customs is really hard sometimes.  Why do we have memorial services?  What do you say to someone who lost their son?  What even can you say?  So instead I just show up.  I don't know what to say, but I'm here and I'll stand in line for an hour and a half to show you that I care.

We got to the funeral home and stood in line to give our condolences.  An hour later we were closer to the front of the line and looking at photos of this young man.  He's my age.  There are photos of him young, when I was young.  He was in college when I attended college.  His dad went through a misguided mustache phase, like mine did.  (Sorry Daddy, but that thing looks so funny in your wedding photos.)  I thought of all the life that he lived.  And all the life he had yet to live and wont.

I thought of all the funerals I've been to in the past.  They were hard because it was my family, but everyone was so much older than me (at the time).  Also, probably I was so much younger.  I was emotionally much like Charlotte tonight, I was physically older, but still I didn't really get it.

Tonight I got it.  Did that come to me with motherhood?  Understanding another mother's love?  This mom, this son, this loss.  Of course I have never lost a son so I can't fully get it.  I can't because just thinking about the possibility makes my heart break and hurt so bad tears come to my eyes.

And then suddenly I'm thinking of the most recent funeral of a loved one that I wasn't able to attend.  The funeral of my cousin's tiny baby girl.  So much love, so much life, so much promise lost.  She will never have walls of photos of her.  Snapshots of her life.  I'm standing in a room filled with strangers for a memorial service for someone I never met and my eyes are tearing up and I'm struggling to keep it under control because who cries for someone they don't know?  Only I'm not crying for someone I don't know, I'm crying for everyone I do know.

And probably that's why we have memorial services.  It gives everyone a safe place to grieve.  A free pass on tears over people we will never stop missing.  A way of showing love without needing to have the right words.

Like Riding A Bike

I've been teaching Charlotte to ride a two wheeler.  She had the desire and I asked Daniel to teach her, but, well, he's a medical resident so you know who ended up teaching her.  I've also watched her learn to ice skate.  We have also started violin lessons.  Through these experiences I have learned a few things about my daughter.  First, stay positive.  She may complain and throw things and insist she can't or won't do something.  She may scream that I'm not fair.  I have to forever remain positive because as soon as I slip it's like a crack opens up and her frustration flows right in.  Second, be firm.  It is hard to do both numbers one and two together, but that's the only way to urge her forward.

You see, I have a daughter that doesn't naturally like to be out of control.  She doesn't like to plunge into the unknown or race ahead.  Honestly I'm grateful for this attribute in her.  These things can be such a great asset for her, but it does mean she requires a person who doesn't give her wiggle room. Also a person that will always have unyielding confidence in her and her abilities when she isn't sure of herself.

I am so proud of her overcoming her fears and learning to ride her bike.  She was learning how to go downhill Saturday when she crashed.  I was standing at the top of the hill and watched in slow motion her wobble, gain control, wobble, gain control, and wobble out of control until she panicked and crashed.  My heart fell and I was frozen for a few seconds before I realized I was the one that had to help her.  She was bleeding, shaking, and frantic.  She never wanted to get back on that bike.  I never wanted to make her.  She walked her bike back a while, but I had to put my foot down and make her ride.  I stood there, listening to her shrieking, insisting she try all the while wanting to tell her she never had to try again.  I was so proud when she did.

She is so hesitant and I get so used to having to urge her forward, but then I turn around and she's zipping around doing things that I never thought she'd figure out she could.  She can skate backwards, she biked downhill Sunday night.  She can do really hard things.  It happens in the blink of an eye, and I can't figure out when or how it happens, but she suddenly has confidence in herself and joy in those things she was terrified of.

It makes me wonder about those things that still hold me back, those people I don't reach out to because I'm nervous, those activities that make me feel out of control.  Most specifically those things that keep holding me back from feeling like this city and this time in my life is my home.  I see myself living confidently and enjoying, then I wobble, then I regain control, then I wobble.  At what point will I look back and realize that I've done this long enough to be confident in myself?  In my family?  In my motherhood?

Just To Remind Myself

Lately I've been composing long, eloquent posts in my head.  They are voluminous.  They aren't written because I've thought better of it.  Mostly they were constructed out of a woe is me attitude about the difficulties I face married to a surgical resident.

Which is all bunk.

Or not bunk really, it is hard, but I don't want to validate those feelings by writing them down. These feelings will fade and I will remember other things about this time because those are the things I will focus my energies on.

With that in mind I thought I'd sit down and write out some of the things that I enjoy about being married to a surgical resident.  Not the things I will enjoy years down the road, but here and now there are wonderful things that I love about the life that I'm living.

First of all, I take great pride in the fact that I have a husband that has chosen a profession to help serve people and better their lives.  And also I love that that is one of the reasons he chose this profession (because that's not a reason for all physicians).  He can come home and tell me how he helped someone today.  The sacrifices we make in seeing him at home are worth it because, in small part, our sacrifice helped someone else live a better life.

Another thing that I like about being married to a surgical resident is my independence.  I enjoy doing things my way.  Hmm, that may make me sound like a bit of a dictator, which as every parent knows is far from the truth with this gaggle of geese.  But for much of my life I chose the next step.  What happens when we get home?  What will we do after dinner? Why are we going out right now? When to squeeze in the nap? Will we take a fun trip to the park or stay home and play?  Our schedule doesn't depend on his.  Honestly it can't and that was something that was hard to get used to, not waiting for Daddy, but now that our situation has been flipped we find it hard in the other direction.

I love that I married a man that can work with his hands.  Right now we are in the midst of a bathroom remodel (pray for us) and I realized something while poking my head in during the tile saw cutting.  He uses the same type of tools and materials at work.  He uses the bone saw, he uses cement, he uses all sorts of tools that look like torture devices to me.  He knows how to use them and I'm grateful that he does and I'm grateful that he summons the energy to use those talents here at home.

I love that my husband is safe, or as safe as anyone can be really, while he works.  My husband isn't a soldier, he's not a fire fighter, he's not a police officer, he's not even a cable man for the power company.  He will be called (or will call himself) to work during emergencies, horrible weather, and times of panic but I can send him with a reasonable expectation that he's going to a hospital, not a burning building, or the front lines of a riot or even up an icy telephone pole.  I love that he has the confidence in me to leave trusting that I am capable of handling things here at home.

Well, the kids are up for the day so I have to be done.  Final thought to myself: Don't forget the light just because you're looking at the shadows it makes.

Winning isn't everything

It's finally gotten warm enough that when Lee kicks and screams and rolls away when trying to dress him Dan and I simply let him roll and run around naked for a while. I know it's dangerous to let a small child run without a diaper, but all of my children have enjoyed nakie time so much I can't help but let them have a bit of it.  Plus also the other two have independently decided that nakie time is no longer for them.  Good move on their parts, but sad because I miss the joy that it brings into the home.

The last sunny non-windy day was ages ago (last week) and during that day he ran onto the deck fully naked and basked in the glow of the late afternoon sun on his little body.  He splashed in the small tub of water put out for him and generally took joy in all that his body can feel and do.

That led me to the question at what point do we stop taking joy in how our bodies feel and all they can do and start to see what they can't do and how they look?  At what point do we stop running because its fun to run with the wind and start running to beat someone else?  Or stop all together because we can't beat someone else?  At what point do we start to notice how we look instead of how we feel?

Charlotte is going to start violin lessons soon in the Suzuki method and so I've been reading a few books written about the method and applying it to my children.  There has been one line of one of the books that has truly stuck with me.  That in Suzuki you try to teach the children that the world isn't full of people you need to compete with but with people that you can cooperate with.  Somehow that idea has just stuck in my brain.  Not that I'm against competition, there is certainly a place for it.  Not everyone can have every job.  But the competition that I see as best is the one you have with yourself that propels you to being a better you.  Additionally I think there are very few times when
competition in life is necessary and music truly isn't one of them.  Yes there can only be one first
chair, but that one person can't make the music by themselves.  The beauty and joy from life come from working with and enjoying the music from any seat.  All the people are valuable.  There are so very many times we end up pushing our children to win. Win! Win! Win! Yes, winning is fun, but if what you're doing isn't fun unless you win then maybe you should try something else.

Like running in the wind or feeling the sun on your face or splashing in the tub of water.  I hear those things are excellent.

Unexpected Reaction

This week was apparently a non-fiction week for my kids at the library.  When we came in Greg decided he wanted some books on astronomy. Then Charlotte told me she wanted a book on Machu Pichu.  While Charlotte and I were trying to find an age appropriate book for her Greg came up to me wanting a book about 9/11.  I told you, non-fiction day.

Friday was a beautifully sunny day and the perfect time to bring back out the outside blanket for outside story time.  We were making our way through the books and then came along to the book about 9/11.

The book really had way too many words for the kids.  A bit over their heads, but I read through the first page that summarized what happened that day.  Then I just ready the photo captions.  To my complete and total shock I started crying when I read about it.  The kids were confused as to why I could possibly be crying and I didn't know how to articulate it.  I simply told them because something sad happened. Then I pulled it together and finished the book.  I don't think the kids will be having me read it again anytime soon.

I haven't really thought about that day in I'd say a decade maybe? I remember only parts of it.  Only emotions really.  I remember getting to school for my class that started an hour before the rest of the school and turning to the TV and watching explosions and smoke.  I remember shock and sadness, but mostly I remember being wholly confused at initial reactions around me.  Through the day our teachers led us in talking about it and I heard so many, so very many express not just anger, but really truly hateful things at people we don't know on behalf of people we didn't know.  Those reactions more than anything else stuck with me.  The confusion at those reactions.

But like I said, I didn't know anyone involved, and it never really hit close to home so at the time I moved on.  So then why, I asked myself, did I break down reading it to my kids?  I think I know part of the answer.  Because now I am a mother I feel a whole lot more connected to strangers.  Because those strangers are somebody's cherished babies.  Somebody's proud parent.  And also I know because the confusion and loss hasn't ended.  There are places in the world right now that somebody is loosing someone that they cherish all too soon.  There I was on that warm blanket sitting in the sun reading books with my kids in safety and I know that isn't the reality for so many.

I dont have an end to this post. Maybe because I'm not the most articulate writer, but also perhaps because this topic hasn't ended because life hasn't ended.  I just hope to teach my children love and kindness because those are the things I hope will win in the end.

Taking Care of the Inbetween

So I asked whose turn it would be for me to worry about next on the last post, but lets be honest, I already knew.  I already knew because the concern was there bubbling just below the other one so when the top one popped there was the other worry confidently located just below.

That other worry is Greg.  And it isn't a worry about him so much as it is about me.  I worry that he gets overlooked.  He isn't the first so I sort of know when something turned out to not be a big deal last time and he isn't last so he doesn't need me as much as Lee.  I never saw the middle child predicament before, but lately I worry that poor kid is slipping through the cracks. He is such an amazing kid and I want him to know he has a valued place in our family.

So here's the question for everyone, how do you make sure that your "middlest" child gets the attention they want and need?

Because it was her turn

After I had already moved out of the house my mom got a call one day from her mom.  Grandma asked her about how she was doing and where she was driving for work and about all the details of her life that you can't see when you live states apart.  The questions must have been more probative than usual because Mom asked why Grandma was asking so many and Grandma said she was worried about her.  Mom had no big worries going on in her life so she was confused as to why her mom would be worried about her.  So when Mom questioned her why she was worried Grandma said, "because it was just your turn."

We all worry about our kids sometimes and this past three weeks its been Charlotte's turn.  Remember when I told you about her breathing, well it never got better.  It just stayed.  She would try to run with her friend to school in the morning and have to stop in a fit of coughing.  I could hear her down in her bed at all hours of the night waking up to cough.  You could always tellshe was inthe room with you because of the rattle and wheeze coming out of her chest.  She had no energy as a result and seemed quite unhappy.  So I worried.

I worried enough to get Dan's attention, which is saying something. Yesterday while gardening I hit my ankle on a large decorative rock and it hurt soooo bad.  When I told Dan I was needing sympathy for it, knowing it was minor and didn't "need" anything, what did he do?  He took the ankle and pushed hard on the bruised spot!  That is the opposite of sympathy I tell you.  So anyway, Charlotte's state finally got his attention he decided to try putting her on Claritin.

We tried Claritin and Zyrtec for a total of a little over a week with zero change in anything.  It was very frustrating.  So then he decided that the next step they would do in her doctor's office would be to try a short term inhaler plus short term anti-inflamitories.  At this point I became his worst nightmare type of patient parent.  You know the kind that is super worried, wants the answers to their kid's problems NOW, but then second guess whatever the doctor says?  I mean I want the problems to stop but do we really need to put her on steriods?  I warned Dan this was happening and that it wasn't about him it was just my turn to worry about Charlotte and he seemed to deal with me just fine.

We started her on everything Monday night and by Tuesday morning she seemed totally fine!  Like miracle fine.  Zero rattle in her chest, renewed energy from a full night of sleep, and getting ready for school Tuesday morning was more pleasant than it had been in weeks.  

So apparently the diagnosis of allergy induced asthma that we had been trying to avoid for years now was the correct one.  Today I am so grateful for effective medications you have no idea!  It is no longer Charlotte's turn to be worried about.  I wonder who will be next.

Mother's Day

It's a little dark, but this is probably my favorite Mother's Day gift this year.  The poem says

Mom mom I love

You I do I do

When I feel 

Down you

Cheer me

Right up

Love Charlotte 

She is getting to be such a thoughtful person.  She also got the chance to go to the Mother's Day store at school this year and pick out a gift for me all by herself.  She said, "I knew you were looking for new fancy pillows so I got you one."  It is fancy.  Hot pink and orange and in the shape of a flip flop.  

Greg made me a treasure hunt that had no map.  He was the treasure finder, complete with "night vision" binoculars with a flashlight attached thanks to great g-ma/pa for his birthday Saturday, and I had to follow him.  Unfortunately he could only remember where one of the three pieces of treasure were.  It was a great sticker page he made for me out of Cars stickers.  This year I told him about how he was born the day before Mother's Day and he was the best present I ever got.  He kept asking/reminding me all day that he was the best present of all.  I think he was tickled by the idea.

Dan got me a bird feeder.  A while back I made bird feeders with the kids that didn't turn out.  Well I had a huge bag of birdseed leftover and it was just sitting around so Dan thought I would like a bird feeder.  I do love to watch birds (must be from my parents and grandparents who always have a million birds around).  This is nearly an industrial size bird feeder so once they figure out there's food in it I'm sure they'll realize they hit the mother load.

A Rocky Morning

Yesterday was a "vacation" day.  We played in the sun and had a great time.  The kids had baths before bed because they were covered in sand.  I passed out at 9 because I was so tired. Great day.

At 1 am I woke up with a sore throat.  Yuck.  When I got up this morning the sore throat was still there but it was sunny and I wasn't going to let that drag me down.  Though it is hard because I feel all draggy and droopy.

I tried getting Lee dressed in Greg's hand me down summer clothes.  Guess what isn't so easy.  Using hand me downs when the two kids had completely different sizing.  All of Greg's summer clothing is size 18 months.  Even the few size 12 months I found are super huge on Lee.  The shorts keep falling down.

Charlotte and her neighbor friend have spent the morning being upset with each other.  And Greg has managed to need help with everything he has tried.

Yesterday I bought paint for the bathroom and was going to do it after the kids went down or this morning before they got up, but then Dan informed me we aren't ready for paint.

So there's my morning so far.

Here comes the Sun

With the season changes and the ever increasing light a few things of my rhythm are off.  The first one is dinner.  I can never seem to get dinner at the right time.  Every day it's all the sudden six o'clock and I have nothing started, I have nothing planned, I have (practically) nothing in the cupboards either.  Well that last part isn't true, it's just that the stuff I have will take time to make. We've been eating a lot of eggs lately.  But who doesn't love a good egg am I right?  Hmm, maybe I need to rethink my approach there.

The other change is that I seem to be waking up with the sunrise.  I have no reason to be up at or before 6 am, but my body says it must.  So here I am.  It is quiet and beautiful.  Just about every morning (aside from that awful two days of snow last week) has a great sunrise. I make my bed and creep about the hour careful to not make a noise.

 I love the quiet and I would just sit here as long as I could except for my day keeps calling to me.  Get a move on, it says.  You need to get somethings done before the kids get up!  Breakfast! Laundry! Backpack! Grocery list!  Don't forget all the bills you have to pay!  You should do that with this little episode of quiet!

But instead I take a minute to sit and be still.  I love my minute (or 15 or 20) of stillness.  I used to get that time of stillness and quiet with my kids.  They would come and pile into bed with me and we'd slowly wake up together.  Pretty soon there was wiggling and squirming and then we'd read and sing and then, after all that we'd get up and start our days together.  I'm pretty sure kindergarten killed that one.

I don't have that golden moment anymore.  But I do have this one.  This moment of stillness and peace before the baby starts to cry and before Greg's "quiet" trip to the bathroom that I can hear throughout the house.  This moment is where I am reminded that the day is so beautiful (even if it isn't) and to go and enjoy it.

Enjoy.

This photo has nothing to do with anything. I just liked to watch her from  the kitchen.  She looks ready to capture all the good I the world and I love it.

What's Happening

It's been so long since I've written anything I feel a bit silly to try to pick back up.  Regardless, I feel like perhaps I need it.  So to kick things off I thought I'd post a few photos of our spring break.  It wasn't very spring like weather, but we sure did have fun.  We went to Lark Toys and rode on the all wooden carousel.  The next day we got back in the car and drove to the National Eagle center.

Do you see that eagle behind the kids?  That's a real eagle without any glass or partition or anything in between it and the kids.  We also got to watch an eagle eat rabbit parts which was equal parts amazing and disgusting.

Also we went to the red barn learning farm.  Lee loved the ride on tractors and the kids petted the baby animals and climbed on the huge tires and just had a lot of fun in general.

I don't feel like I have much to say at the moment, but I do love the kids so much.

One thing that's been troubling.  Charlotte has again started her yearly continual cold that nobody else in the house seems to get.  She's wheezy, and coughs a lot and it always gets worse after play time outside.  I'm not sure what to make of it, but time will tell.  Either it'll get better and there is nothing to worry about or she'll get worse and then we'll have something to deal with.

Getting It Right

Sometimes my life sounds like one long summer vacation.

Today my sister called me on the phone on her way home from work (which sounds more and more fascinating since I've actually paid attention to what she's talking about).  She asked what I had done today.  I'll share here.  Today we:

Got Charlotte and Greg to school.

Ambled around the grocery store with Lee.

Played games with Lee at home while half heartedly picking some things up. (My house is a mess and I'm going to have serious cleaning up to do before my mom comes out next week.)

Had a very tasty lunch.  (Toasted English muffin spread with peanut butter topped with apple slices or as my sister calls them apple slivers and drizzled with a brown sugar, butter, cinnamon glaze with a side of cottage cheese.  Oh my it was good.)

Had friends over to play.

Made these bird feeders. They didn't exactly turn out for us because I think I put too much water in?  Or maybe we didn't wait long enough to put it into the mold?  The gelatin fell to the bottom and didn't really adhere the seeds very well.  Luckily I crazily bought a bulk bag of birdseed so now we can make them again, and again, and again...

Did a science experiment with water, air and fire (because who doesn't love fire?)

Ate dinner.

Went to bedtime stories at the library (and yes my kids went in their jammies, who wouldn't ya know?)



Lots and lots of days don't always feel fun.  They sort of feel like I'm getting it all wrong.  But then there are the sweet spots that truly do feel like a vacation.  Yeah for my life!

Bigger

Well, today he's done it.  He was edging the line for a while now, but then today he took a flying leap over the edge.  He was toddling along holding a toy and then he tripped and fell over.  When I picked him up I found his first cut and bruised eye.

For the rest of the day I realized I was looking at the face of a toddler.  He plays peek-a-boo and laughs at his own jokes.  He lunges to wrestle with his dad, his brother, his sister, his mother.  He wrinkles his nose when he really wants to smile.  He is so grown up now.

He's my brave, fearless, reckless big boy.  But you know what he's not?  He's not a baby anymore.

Worst April Fools Joke

All around I see spring, but here Mother Nature played a cruel joke on us.  Sunny oh yes, sunny so that you think it's spring and you can go out for a walk, but then you step outside and your hands freeze to the stroller handles.

Tonight on the local news they said that the high for the day was colder than days in January and February.

Happy April!

Doing His Best

Dan and I are sick.  It means something when Dan admits he's sick.

I feel like crawling back into bed.

Despite this, my littlest one is doing his best to convince the world that babies are the coolest and we should have them around at all times.

If my day turns out like the last five minutes had been then it'll be great.

So Much Good

I see so much good in life and in people.

I see so much hate and anger in life and in people.

I see lessons being taught to my children and myself daily from every possible side.

My daughter was born six years ago this week.  

My son was born one year ago this week.

I've been thinking about them almost constantly and what I wish for them (all of them) so fervently with all my heart.

There are so many thoughts in my head they seem squeezed through my limited ability to put words to them.

Simply put, I wish for them to look to the good.  It is there.

There are so many good things for them out there in life for them to associate with and to build up.

There are sacrifices that they can make that will mean something to them and to those around them.

I feel that we become better people as we search out the good in the people that surround us.  

That right there, is the simple statement that motherhood has taught me.

I know I certainly become a better mother when I search out the good in my children.  I have never experienced a positive change that came from me bringing out the negative in anything.

Find the good in your life and go after it with all you've got.

Happy Birthday to Me

Yesterday was my birthday, or more commonly known in this house as six days before Charlotte's birthday.

I woke up at 5:45am to my cell phone ringing.  It was the school calling to tell me school was on a two hour delay and so none of my kids would have school that day.  And it was really cold and really windy and we'd be cooped up inside and did I just hear the baby wake up from the ringer I forgot to silence before going to bed last night?  Yeah, my birthday.

But I forgot to mention that even though I woke up at 5:45 my first thought after cursing the school for calling was, "hey, why can't my eye open? And why does it hurt so much?"  Eye infection city!  Not exactly pink eye so there isn't any meds to take, but annoying none the less.

So lets chalk all that on the bad side of the day, there were many good sides to the day too and here they are:

My two older children are sleeping in the bedroom in the basement (yeah!) so they didn't wake up early.

We did have pancake cake and I did blow out the candles (even if I did make the cake and light them myself.)

Charlotte consented to taking a bath with Lee in the morning.  They stayed in there for a half hour and all I had to do was just sit there.

I got to shower for as long as I wanted because I waited until after Lee was down for a nap.

My friend Mindy came over to my house and brought lunch with her which is ten times better than what I did for her because I never had to leave my house.  Did I mention that I had a hurty red eye?

Just as lunch was done Dan came home and to prove that he has a great sense of humor he had shaved some of his facial hair off leaving only a long scraggly soul patch with thin line mustache.  It made me laugh so I think he might keep it around for a few days before shaving it off.

Mindy, to further her greatness took Greg with her to play with her boys.

Then I napped.  And napped and napped some more while Dan entertained the baby and did the dishes and hung the curtains.

I spent some time with my neighbor just chatting.  I haven't talked to her for a while and it was nice to catch up.

When I came home I needed to figure out dinner.  Keep in mind that I was supposed to go grocery shopping Monday, but then it was snowy and gross and I hate the grocery store on the best of terms.  It wasn't happening.  So I knew I'd have to be creative.

And here is where the surprise birthday present from my mother-in-law comes from the back of my freezer.  I knew I had nothing in the pantry so I went to the freezer in my futile effort to find something.  Why is it that I always think some sort of inspiration will strike from the frozen hunks in there?  I'll tell you why.  Today I discovered hearty, delicious homemade meat sauce in there.  We ended up eating a delicious dinner and all I really had to do was heat up mix up and serve things.  Happy birthday to me.

Later we had some friends come over for cake!  Cake I didn't make, or clean up after or anything.  Mindy made me a brownie and peanut butter cup cake and it was delicious and I loved it.

So there is the whole of my birthday story this year.  Sorry no photos, but did I mention the eye infection?  No photos of that are needed.

Birthday Happiness

We create memories through traditions.  The small things at we do over and over again that imprint on our minds.  Hopefully, when they are effective, they help us to feel connected and loved.  Like that time my sister secretly drove from Colorado to Utah overnight so that I could have a pancake cake breakfast on my birthday.  There are many traditions and memories that I have of my birthdays growing up.  Like my mom singing me awake with so much excitment I knew, just knew, she was glad I was born and that I was hers.  This memory though was not a tradition, and might not even be from my birthday.  The strength of the memory isn't in the details.  They have faded away through the years with the ever changing tides about my life.  What is most important is how totally loved and important I felt that day.

I was in the third grade (I think) doing my school work when a knock on the door brought everyone's attention in that direction.  The door opened and in came someone carrying a white bear with a Mylar balloon tied to it.  It was for me.  My teacher let me keep in on the edge of my desk and my heart was filled with joy.  It made me know that my mom was thinking of me and thought enough of me to go out of her way for me.

Why do balloons fill a person with joy?  My kids love them too.  We currently have a Mylar balloon sadly, slowly loosing its helium the farther we get from Valentine's Day, but I can't bring myself to get rid of it because as each of the children happen on it they start to pull the string and play with it and the joy starts over again.  I hope that I can find things that mean as much to my kids.

Maybe I'm crazy

Shh...don't tell Dan, but I don't think my kids should be eating red meat.  Or processed meat for that matter.  Or really any meat.  As I'm thinking through this I revise my former statement.  I think it should be eaten sparingly, like on special occasions, but certainly shouldn't be the qualifier for the "real dinner" nights.  Do you have those nights too?  It doesn't feel like a real dinner unless some sort of meat dish is present?  Otherwise it feels like a collection of side dishes without a real purpose?  The side dishes look at one another on the table whispering, asking each other why they showed up so early and when will the real party start.

But here's what I've noticed.  My kids are happy having an apple, carrot sticks, cheese, and a banana for lunch.  They were fully satisfied with tonight's apple German Pancakes, and cottage cheese and pear in the shape of a mouse for dinner.

Also?  Meat is expensive!  Really expensive.  I would really like to find ways to not spend it on not eaten dinners that end up in the dog's bowl. Sorry Percie, but that chicken I made wasn't meant as a super nice food for you.

Probably I'm crazy and my kids are healthy and we are doing fine financially and why does this thought keep nagging at the back of my brain?  But maybe it's there because I should give it a try.

The biggest hurdle in all of this though is that I make meals for my family all day every day.  That's three meals and two snacks that need to be healthy and things they will eat every day.  That's 21 meals and 14 snacks in a week.  Coming up with that many things is hard.  So what do I do?  I do what I did before.  Turkey sandwiches and peanut butter and jelly and pot roast and mashed potatoes. There's nothing wrong with any of those foods, they just need to take a passenger seat.  I don't think ascribe to what feels like vilifying foods either. I love food in all it's many forms.  It's just that possibly (probably?) we've been eating a little too much of one form.

But I also want my husband and I to feel like we are eating a real, delicious, great mouthfeel type meal too.  I don't really like cooking things that aren't going to be appreciated and I don't like feeling like I'm eating "kid food" you know what I mean.

So then I look at all of those hurdles and my brain cramps up and all I can do is yell GAH! And nothing significant really changes.

But there you have it.  Those are my thoughts on the subject.

PS. The don't tell Dan part was totally a joke.  Of course I talk to him about this kind of stuff.