Wonders

The world's spent itself, telling us there is nothing new under the sun, that all things are equal, and that life is at its zenith, when we mindfully manage everything.  The phone and the algorithms of the interent want to assure us that we can always be in charge.  We set alarms. We link into schedules.  Everything is possible. 

Bleah. 

Anyone who ever fell in love should know better.  Our best moments aren't orchestrated.  When we catch our children playing together in absolute silliness, that's joy.  When a husband steals a kiss or an actual letter comes in the mail, that's fun.  When we look out the window and see the first snow of the season falling, that's lovely.  Life, the joyful moments, come in part by the unexpected, the arriving, and the willingness to enter into living, as opposed to managing one's life. 

We get "into" a game or a book or a movie, and we forget everything else.  We fall into painting or playing an instrument or even (don't get this one but I know it's true), exercising.  We don't even spend time thinking, "this is a great time" until we've finished. 

The joy of life is in wonder, in forgetting about schedules, in being present and in the moment.  So this week, when you're preparing the turkey and all the trimmings and worrying about what you have to do, remember the better portion and be present. 

Allow yourself the wonder of being with each other, rather than only doing for the event.  Hold onto that purpose, and the delights of the season will facilitate your discovering moments that afterward, you can know were great, but in the moment, will be a source of joy. 

Pie is Infinite

This Thanksgiving, we had 8 pies at the table.   Pie reigned supreme and as we ate, we discovered the ten stages of the Life of Pie.

10) First slice: Pie! Awesome.  I'll take a slice.  Hold the whipped cream, I don't want to go overboard.

9) Second slice: Well, my last piece was kinda small and it was pumpkin. This is pecan....Where's the ice cream?

8) Third slice:  I've already blown the diet.  I haven't tried the apple so...this time hit me up some with whip and some ice cream.

7) I can't move....it hurts.  "There's a little bit of whiskey pecan left.  Want to split it?"
....hmmmm......sure!

6) Pie.  It's what's for breakfast.   New day.  New pie capacity.

5) I'm not full yet.   Is there any pumpkin left?  There's just a sliver in the blueberry so I'll add that one too.  It's too small to count as a serving.

4) Okay, I'm not eating any more pie and I'm hitting the gym this afternoon.  I will instead feast on other leftovers.   Cranberry stuffing turkey gravy sandwich has more calories than pie.   I will just eat a slice of pie.

3) I went for a walk. Huzzah! I'm healthier than everyone else enduring a turkey coma.   I will celebrate by feasting on a slice of the roasted apple! No one has yet touched that pie.

2) Don't mention pie. I'm not interested.  I don't want any.  You can't possibly tempt me.  "Hey look, our neighbors just brought us a fresh pumpkin pie.   ...Deal me in.

1) We have eaten an infinite amount of pie.   It will take an infinite amount of time to work this off.
"Well, pie is an infinite number."

It's the Most Annoying Time of the Year....

Today is November 3rd.

My eleven year old started singing the 12 days of Christmas.  Even after explaining, theologically speaking, he should start on Christmas and go until the Feast of the Epiphany, even after pointing out the All Carols All the Time Radio Station hasn't started it's annual shtick, even after begging as I'm driving to his school, "I'll let you start up the day after Thanksgiving," he would not be deterred from starting a Yuletide revolution in the car.

I'd had them singing to help the ten year old with songs she has to know for a Veterans' day concert; "The Star Spangled Banner," "She's a Grand Old Flag" and "America the Beautiful."  We'd closed with two Fall favorites, "The Notre Dame Fight Song," and "Five Little Speckled Frogs."  But in the back row, came a deliberately off key and very loud...

"ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS..."
and the back row, swept in the wake of his silliness, joined in.  All off key, all loud, even Paul.   I pointed out, we're driving. It's morning.  There is traffic.

"ON THE THIRD DAY OF CHRISTMAS..."
They did run into the technical difficulties of remembering the three French Hens, there are a lot of birds in that song.  

I reminded everyone we ought to celebrate Thanksgiving before Christmas, and if they wanted to skip Thanksgiving, I'd let the school know to keep them in school that last week of November.

The song made its way to the second row, with editorial content.  "You can't leave us at school, we have Thanksgiving off!"  "FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!"

My google map says the road from here to their school is only fifteen miles.  It just feels so much longer.   I opt for the diversionary tactic of the radio, hoping to find some sing along song they love. I am stuck at a light by which point, the kids get to the nine ladies dancing.  An argument breaks out over who gets to say which item.  It turns out, no one wants the maids a milking, and everyone wants the five rings.

I have failed to quash the pre-Turkey day singing special.  I can only stew, ignore, or join.   It is then, the true spirit of Parenting knowledge shown in my eyes.  I knew how to recapture the car.  It would be without promises. It would be without nags. It would happen without bribes, without scolds and finger wags.   I opened my mouth, and sang forth clear and loud, "ON THE TENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS..." and the silent night in my car, rang clear and profound.  I sang all the rest of the carol that ride.  Everyone else sat silent once I swallowed my pride.   It wasn't the prettiest song you'll ever hear, but I sang it with gusto.  I sang it with cheer.

And I told my tween son as he got out of the car, I love you very much.  He said, "Har-dee-har-har."

Preparing for the Feast

Thanksgiving can be a stressful holiday, with the fattening stressful mix of intense cooking, intense cleaning, visiting relatives and the hard push of the TV, only the 32 days until Christmas, how do we make this holiday a day of blessed sacred time? By following the Saints, Saint Mary in being present and in awe of Jesus, and Saint Martha and being the hands and feet that prepare the feast out of love for others, love for Christ.

1) Invite your family and friends and ask them to each bring a dish for the meal that means something in their family tradition. Follow Christ's advice to Saint Martha, "Don't be anxious." about making everything perfect. Let guests participate in the preparations. Sharing recipes from their history is part of the joy of creating and passing on tradition. It lets you be both a gracious giver and receiver of the meal (a good moral lesson of the holiday). If it is just your family, let each family member prepare one of the things for the meal, even if it is crescent rolls or cranberry jelly in a can.

2) Prepare a parallel giving. Thanksgiving is about giving thanks. Part of what we are thankful for, is our own posterity. Ergo, giving to make someone else’s Thanksgiving memorable fits perfectly with celebrating this great American Tradition. Check out your local food pantry program to donate and let your little children bring the groceries in to the place. They will shine with gratitude for the opportunity. If you have older children, ask if you can help serve. Washing other peoples’ feet is a great way to demonstrate to your family, we are called to serve first. It will also set the table for your own meal, by making you fully grateful for the feast you are about to receive.

3) Go to mass on Thanksgiving before you cut into the Turkey. You’ve got at least 4 hours before the meal, the games aren’t until the afternoon and tryptophans will send you into a food coma at some point in the afternoon. Going to mass as a family to give thanks harkens back to the beginnings of this tradition and our Liturgy of the Eucharist is a Thanksgiving meal every time. It is the choosing of the better portion. What could be more appropriate?

4) Play ball. Our family has the annual turkey classic before dinner: The Gorillas vs. the Wolves. Our oldest 4 children pride themselves in being undefeated, while my husband and I plus the four younger eligible for play have scored moral victories over the years with legendary tackles that were supposed to be touch and passes that somehow displayed supernatural grace influenced the outcome. God had to put that ball in my hand. There’s no way I should have caught it. I know me. It makes for an annual tradition of bragging rights, boasts, good humor and stories that will live long after we stop using the back yard as a grid iron.

5) Count your blessings. At the dinner table, come with a notepad (not a laptop), and record what each person is grateful for this year. The thanks will flow along with the wine and the gravy. Then date the list, have everyone sign it and mail it to yourself for next year to recall the blessings of the past. In addition to providing everyone with the moment to consider what all we have to be grateful for, you will have a permanent record of the memory. (We put the score from the family turkey football classic on that page too).

Lastly, when the pie has been served, when all of the business of the Holiday has passed, recognize that we live in a blessed land where every year, we stop. We gather with family and friends. We feast and we give thanks to God for all we receive, for all of these gifts that so often, we take for granted. Thank God for this gift of our home. Say Grace after meal to remember, God is good. God is Great. God is Love. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.

Time to Deal with the Turkey*

It's the week of Thanksgiving and I must endure the seasonal complaint from the one son who thinks any time poultry graces the table, it is a personal slight.  Never mind that I make his favorite dessert, it is the bird itself that offends.  

"Why do we have to have turkey?"  He laments. Having researched the holiday and mentioned that this was not the only thing served.  However, he doesn't necessarily think venison, lobster or clams are viable options either.  After being offered alternatives, he acknowledged that he doesn't want historical, he just wants this traditional part omitted.  "Why can't we have steak? I'd be thankful for that." The complaint gets some traction with this alternate proposal from his older brother. 

Now I'm a reasonable mother.  I have explained that he need not eat any turkey ever.  But children, being children do not consider compromise meeting the adult halfway; let me rephrase that, children being children do not consider compromise.   He made me a helpful list of the foods traditionally served at this holiday in November that he doesn't like.  It included the following:

Turkey
Gravy
Stuffing (Chestnut and/or Cornbread)
Mashed Potatoes
Sweet Potatoes
Cranberry relish, jelly, Cranberries
Green beans
Roasted vegetables
Mushrooms
Broccoli
Crescent rolls

When I pointed out that this left only Pumpkin pie and whipped cream, he hastily grabbed the list and added Cool Whip --so I would know the whipped cream must be fresh.  "It would cut down on the dishes and the calories." he offered helpfully, "....and the expense." 

Now I know that sarcasm is not a recommended parenting technique; but clearly, gastronomic empathy for any taste buds other than his own was lacking.  It was time for something drastic.

"How about I just serve you Captain Crunch?" I asked.

"What?" 

"Sure.  Cold cereal. No fuss. No work.  No worries.  You like Captain Crunch and there would be no offending smells in your kitchen.  You know, there are brothers and sisters who Don't like pumpkin chiffon pie.  This way, no one would smell something they don't like or have to endure seeing  a food they didn't want on the holiday."

"But..."  he was crumbling as he envisioned that once a year favorite pie not happening.

"In fact, we could make it a tradition for Christmas and Easter and every holiday.  I bet if I wrote that we were having this as our feast, we could have a commercial with General Mills...." 

"Well....maybe we  could have apple pie for my sisters who don't like pumpkin." he started to break.

"It would be okay if we had pies you don't like?" 

"I guess so..." 

"What about me? I can't eat sweets right now. What will I eat?" I asked.

"Can you eat turkey?"
"Yes.  But I also will need vegetables, as I can't eat the breads or the sweet potatoes."

"I guess we can have a turkey."

"And my folks.  They really like chestnut stuffing and giblet gravy..."
"Okay."

"And your sister lives for making the mashed potatoes and your brother LOVES cranberries."
"I guess so..."

"Don't forget, your dad loves mushrooms and Paul devours crescent rolls and broccoli."
"So....we have to make the whole dinner?" he asked fearfully.

"I'm afraid so..."

"But promise me one thing?" he asked.
"What's that sweetie?"

"You'll use fresh whipped cream, not a can or Cool Whip?"   
I nodded.

And he smiled and left the table, the peace talks had been victorious in his opinion.  I'm now thankful that 1) I had enough family to get each dish back, 2) he didn't call my bluff and 3) this holiday only comes once a year.

Originally run on Nov. 21, 2010.

Small Success Will Be Celebrated Friday...

Because today (Thanksgiving) is dedicated to cooking, football, family and food comas.  Give thanks. Hug your family and enjoy this day. Happy Thanksgiving! I'll be here tomorrow to help everyone recover and count their blessings. --Sherry

De-Stressing

It's saying something when your OBGYN says she might have to prescribe a glass of wine for both you and herself in the evening after listening to your week.   She was pleased my blood pressure was "normal."

For those who have been following, my daughter's condition remains unchanged and we still have no answers.  All we know is what it isn't, and the list of isn'ts continues to grow, with thankfully all the really nasty ones being shunted to the "not it" column. We are now exploring other systemic answers that might have wandering eyes or poor muscle control of eyes as a consequence --thyroid, diabetes...that sort of things, and doing a work up of how she learns and learns best. 

We also will be doing an analysis of whether it matters which eye she covers, by leaving one eye patched all day for two days and recording behavior, and then switching to the other and seeing if there is a difference in behavior/performance/capacity/handwriting that is the result of which eye is covered.    Thank you to everyone for the prayers, suggestions and comments.  It is very difficult to be in the world of "I don't know" for so much, but she's got a brave spirit and we're going to see this through and eventually get some answers.   

You know, it's saying something when the idea of cooking a turkey with stuffing and pumpkin pie et. al. sounds less taxing than the rest of life.  My son is supervising 43 dinners being made for needy families the day before.  Wonder if he wants to be in charge of a 44th?  

Mother Goose on Turkey Day

After the big meal as we were closing down for the night, my daughter remembered the assignments given for completion over the long weekend and she moaned, “I can’t wait to be a grown up and have no more homework. My free time will be my own.”

Speaking up and shattering that illusion would have been cruel so I held my comments but writing all of this up and trying to carve out a article with a gut filled with stuffing, cranberries and turkey, I mused over the apparent momentary existence of free time. I was writing on my computer. I was momentarily free. Blogging was a form of mental jogging for me, when the rest of the world would fall away in the process. It was liberating. It was a release. It was…then my oldest son came into the room and said, “Can I update my Facebook?”  and I pointed out that we still had dishes to do. 

"It's too many for just me." he explained. 

"You're in luck.  You have three sisters and a brother capable of helping."

"But Mommmmm, we're on vacation." came the chorus.  "I'm too full." said another.  They suddenly felt the weight of the meal kicking in..."Why didn't we use paper plates?"  "Why did you make all this food?"  "When I'm grown up, I'm making pasta and cresent rolls and that's it."   said one.  Another agreed.  Making a mental note not to go to their house for dinner on the fourth Thursday in November, I insisted that as I took care of the dishes regardless of the dish roughly 360 days out of the year, this was hardly outlandish.  

"But we're on break." they clamored. 
I turned back to the computer and  said, "Me too."

There was danger of a mass mutiny but I held one ace in the hole.   "There are four pumpkin pies and two apple ones.  You little kittens shall have no pie until the dishes are done."  

Go to Island Park News!

Today's humor serving comes courtesy of my first weekly column with the newspaper, Island Park News! "Fractured Mommy Tales!"

I will now shamelessly plug...myself.
Leave a comment for them if it makes you laugh. Thanks!

I tried to make it a link but no dice. So cut and paste and I'll try to learn what I need to do.
http://www.islandparknews.com/full.php?sid=5365¤t_edition=2008-11-14



P.S. We're actually going to try to enact that plan. Don't tell Batgirl. (Scroll down to see).

Leftovers...

Today's offering is verbal stuffing, bits of this and that, mixed to make something really excellent to eat, but not often.

On Thanksgiving morning at six o'clock, the alarm went off.
"Come on Love, we have to dress and stuff the turkeys."
"Feed and clothe the kids, right." he smiled as he hit the alarm.

First a serving of Turkey...

Friday, emerging from the food comas, I happened to smirk at a bag of pecans that warned, "Processed on machines that may have processed nuts from trees." It reminded me of the recall in New Hampsire of Eggnog, where the feds insisted the products be removed from shelves as they lacked sufficient warning...MAY CONTAIN EGGS. Somebody must have egged the government on to do this, or else someone isn't using their noggin.

Mashed Potatoes for Brains...

Pulling out the hotdogs to make lunch, I observed the following label. "Child Safety: When serving hot dogs to young children, cut hot dogs lengthwise, then into small, easy to swallow pieces. Children should eat while seated and be under adult supervision. Please contact us at 1-866...for more information." I called the number to ask whether they could send someone over to supervise. They haven't gotten back to me.

Cranberries...

This year, retailers have recognized that "Happy Holidays" and "Season's Greetings" aren't cutting it with the vast shopping public that may actually be purchasing things to celebrate a religious observance. "Winter trees" flopped big time last year. Determined not to offend, some not so bright bulbs have opted for "Yuletide Season." Guess it's okay to acknowledge pagan religions, after all, there are so many druids running around.

Dessert....

Cutting cake to celebrate my husband's birthday caused our three year old to come a running. "Who's the cake for?" he asked. Our other children cued up for servings. "My favorite child first." their father replied and added with a wink, "Who's my favorite child?" The older four began to smile and one of them volunteered "All of us." but John grabbed the slice and said "ME. I'm your favorite." and hunkered down on the slice.

Gravy....

On the issue of favorites, a favorite story of my dad's. When asked by one of his sons, which of his nine children did he love the most, my grandfather told the story of how he couldn't be a priest because he had lost part of his thumb. He held up his hands. "You see I have nine fingers." he said. "I love and need them all."

Happy Thanksgiving!