Thankful for Home, 27 November 2014

Today will be the largest dinner I've hosted yet: Including my sons and little nephews, we'll have 18 for Thanksgiving!  Two of the nephews don't have enough teeth for turkey, but I'm still roasting 33 pounds for the rest of us (12.5 lbs went through the oven yesterday; the other 20.5 get going in an hour).

This year has the extra-special added element of an overseas visit from my sister Kay's family, who we haven't seen for two years.  And the extra-extra special part of their visit is that now they have Baby C...who I've been longing to meet since his birth 10 months ago!  Kisses over video chat just aren't the same thing as mooshing on plump cheeks in person.  Today will be the first time all five cousins--my two boys, Claire's two boys, and Kay's--will be together.  This Auntie is beside herself anticipating all those fuzzy heads whooping, crawling, or drooling all over her house.  It will also be such a joy to see my Dad with his grandsons inevitably piled all over him.

But on that note, there is also inevitable sadness because my Mom isn't here to see and know her grandchildren.  G is the only one who remembers her--and it's hazy at that, since he was only three and a half years old when she died--and she never got to meet the youngest three boys.  Holidays are full of mixed emotions anyway, especially for this tradition-oriented family.  We did things basically the same way every year, from the location to the food, and it's been a slow grief process to gradually form new traditions.

Some of our traditions have remained, however--like having our big dinner at noon and enjoying leftovers and pie for supper--and since this is Kay's first American Thanksgiving in six years, we're leaning on our traditional growing-up foods, too: Turkey with from-scratch bread stuffing, Boston brown bread, steamed green beans with slivered almonds and sour cream, red garnet yams with butter, mashed potatoes and gravy, jellied cranberry sauce (no whole cranberries allowed; my mom tried to introduce that but there weren't enough takers), and six different pies.

Not that different from many other Americans' Day of Thanks fare, but these particular dishes taste like home to us siblings...and I am so thankful for home--for the loving home I grew up in, for the welcoming home I have now, and for the eternal Home my mom has already gotten to.  In some ways, no matter what the joy or sadness, with my Heavenly Father at my side I'm always home.  Wherever you are today, may you feel welcomed home too.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

Pumpkin Gingerbread (Vegan and Low-Fat), 07 November 2014

Good morning!  Z and I are sitting in front of the fire (yay for our new fireplace!) on this lovely fall morning, having just finished a scrummy breakfast.

A couple days ago, Claire--whose oven has quit working and is having baking withdrawals--brought the nephews over and baked pumpkin cookies while I had Auntie time.  Everyone was delighted.  The can of pumpkin she used was one of those double-size ones, so about two cups of leftover puree found its way into my fridge.  Naturally, I needed to use it up.

(I just realized that the last recipe post I wrote was also about leftover pumpkin, haha!)

Add a craving for my mom's acclaimed gingerbread recipe, and I came up with a vegan, low-low-fat, easy result with a lovely moist, spongy texture.  Since this isn't a food blog, I won't entrance you with photographs of every ingredient and 17 pics of the finished product from different angles; I'll just share the recipe.  Okay, and one picture.

P.S.  I also had leftover cream cheese frosting from Claire's cookies, so for you non-vegan peeps, I highly recommend a good schmear over the gingerbread for a sweeter treat.  Or pair it with a slice or two of sharp cheddar cheese for a healthy-feeling breakfast...like I enjoyed this morning!

Pumpkin Gingerbread

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.  Oil and flour two 9-inch round cake pans.

In a large bowl, combine with electric mixer:
1 cup canned pumpkin (not pumpkin pie filling)
1 cup molasses
1 cup light corn syrup
2/3 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups hot* water (about 110 degrees F)

Add:
4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 3/4 tsp. salt
2 tsp. each baking soda, cinnamon, and ground ginger
1/4 tsp. ground cloves

Beat on medium speed for 3 minutes, scraping down sides of bowl occasionally.  Pour into prepared pans and bake for 50 minutes, or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.  Cool in pans on wire racks, or serve warm if desired.

*If using refrigerated pumpkin, heat water to about 150 degrees F

Many Hats, Few Hours, One Head, 24 July 2013

Hello Blog!  I've missed you.  Whatever may be said about lazy summers, this certainly hasn't been one.  I suppose if I were a professional making money with my writing, I wouldn't relegate composing posts to irregular lazy moments, but that "really makes no matter," as Lady Bracknell says in The Importance of Being Earnest.

Obscure literary quotes (or movie quotes) aside, it is good to sit down and write!  It's nice to be a whole paragraph into this post without having said anything of real substance yet, which is perfectly fitting for a lazy moment.  I did, however, open this page with the intent of writing about something, and must just call it to mind.  One moment...

Ah yes.  Stay at Home Moms.

Actually, not all stay at home moms-- just me.  When a neighbor recently dropped his young grandson off with me because he was late to work and the babysitter "was only about 30 minutes away," and I supervised/entertained/mediated between three little boys for the following three hours--and it wasn't the first time this had happened, or even the second or third--I realized that (1) I should stop agreeing to watch neighbors' grandsons for indeterminate amounts of time and (2) some people must see me as having a lot of extra time on my hands.

Obviously, my readers all know I don't have a lot of extra time on my hands, because if I did, there would be a lot more blog entries.  But not everyone I come across is familiar with my 2-3/month posting trend, so I would like to elaborate for those people.  (Nevermind that "those people" don't read my blog and won't see this post; we'll just call this scribal processing.)

In a few weeks, Z will be starting Kindergarten (!!) while G continues on into 2nd grade.  When I mentioned this fact to an acquaintance earlier this summer, she said, "So what are you going to do with all your free time?  Get a job?"

The irksome idea that what I do now isn't a job aside, I have to admit, I had a moment of panic.  "Oh no!  Is that what I'm supposed to do??  Am I suddenly going to have all this empty time on my hands that will be squandered if I 'just stay at home'?!  Do I need to squeeze myself into some mind-numbing clerical position so that I can earn money instead of having 'free' time?"

In spite of Jay's insistence that I need those eight hours, I still felt guilt about not wanting to get back into the "work" force.  I calmed myself a bit by remembering that once the school year starts, I'm actually only going to have 8 hours per week without kids (we do a hybrid homeschool program, and Kindergartners are only in class 9 hours/week).  But thinking about the new phase I'm entering caused me to look again at the jobs (yes, plural, thank you very much) I already have. 

I've written before about the many "hats" I may wear in a given day; looking back at just the last seven days, I think I can group my activities into a few broad categories.  In no particular order:

• wife
• mother
• multi-organization volunteer
• relative (sister, in-law, auntie, etc)
• friend
• informal grief consultant (which often overlaps with "relative" and "friend")
• home and garden caretaker
• motherless daughter

During the past week, I have spent every minute being/doing at least one of these categories.  Now, I know that I'm a mother every minute, but--moms of infants and toddlers have hope--there are times of the day I'm not actively doing something with my kids.  Believe it or not, the two boys do have moments of entertaining each other without eyes-on supervision from me, at least for part of each day, which is wonderful.  Jay also does a fantastic job of doing things with the kids sans Mommy.  Naturally, during those times I put my feet up, put in earplugs, turn off my phone, and eat chocolate.

NOT.

Although I think my life would be better if I did that combination of things a little more.  Huh.  Let's put a pin in that.

No, the moments that active mom duty is on hold--and even quite a bit of the time it's not on hold--are moments filled with one or more of the other categories.  I'd like to go over some of the things I did this past week, and "those people" who think I have lots of extra time might understand my reality a bit better.

Since all of my readers are above-average intelligent (they have to be, to read this; after all, I quote Oscar Wilde), I'll dispense with delineating every category each activity belongs to.  They often overlap, anyway.

Last Wednesday, Jay gave me the day off from active mommy-ing.  I filled the day with birthday shopping for Z, and lunch and dinner out, catching up with two different friends.  Arriving home refreshed at 8 p.m., ready to have a quiet evening with Jay in front of the TV, we unexpectedly got an urgent request from a friend whose grandmother was in the hospital.  The next 4-5 hours were spent in caffeinated "friend" and "informal grief counselor" modes as I transported our friend from another city to our house for the night.

Thursday was mostly spent in that same mode, driving our friend to transport her out-of-town relatives to the ICU, where I stayed with them until the grandmother passed away Thursday evening.  (Thankfully, Jay thought to remind me to get a sub for my volunteer duties at my Thursday Al-Anon meeting, so I was able to coordinate that in time.)  As much as I tried not to slip into the "motherless daughter" category, the traumatic memories from my time in the ICU with my mom took their toll.

I spent Friday working off physical and emotional exhaustion.  In the morning, I got a message from another friend whose dad was in surgery after a heart attack, but prayer doesn't take too much physical energy, so I was happy to support her in that way. I also prayed over my daily email update from a friend whose 1 yr-old has stage 4 neuroblastoma.  Those updates aren't fun to read.  :-(

Perhaps surprisingly, by Friday evening I had recovered a bit, so I cleaned a bathroom and the living room floor, picked some tomatoes, and had a wonderful visit with a local friend who came over after the kids were in bed.  We chit-chatted over a wide variety of subjects while experimenting with a new French macaron recipe in my kitchen.

At about midnight, seconds away from being fully asleep, I suddenly realized I'd forgotten to wrap Z's birthday breakfast gift.  Enter mother mode again.  I get up.

Saturday morning officially began awfully early, because Z was so excited to start his 5th birthday!  Who wouldn't be?  The morning continued with making a grocery list for a 12-person dinner, packing the boys off to the store with a long shopping list.

The afternoon was filled with birthday/dinner prep (along with stolen bits of auntie time with visiting Baby K), and I spent the evening hostessing.  Incidentally, that may be the last 12-person birthday dinner I make.  There was too much work and not enough fun.  Putting a pin in that, too.

The guests were gone and excited boys in bed by 8 p.m., and my aching, grumpy body had just sunk into the couch when Jay said, "So I guess we should start planning tomorrow's Sunday School lesson."  Scream!  He reminded me that this Sunday was our turn to lead the 3s-5s class.

Finding me taciturn (that's a nice word for "surly," right?), Jay did as much planning on his own as he could, leaving a few bits for me to look over before church in the morning.

Sunday morning started well, perhaps in part because I donned an adorable outfit, and even though we scrapped our Sunday School lesson because only two kids showed up to class (one of whom was Z), I was content with being in volunteer mode.

But in the parking lot, headed toward lunch, "motherless daughter" showed up out of nowhere and smacked me across the face.  A friend at church asked me if I knew how to can peaches.  I'll leave the peach-canning back-story for another time; suffice it to say that it triggered a lot of happy memories of growing up with my mom, and a lot of weepy feelings that I can't call her and talk about it.

Those feelings stayed through Monday morning, thankfully relieved a bit by two tearfully-cathartic phone conversations with sisters.  Monday was also Jay's first day back at work, so all three of us were missing him after a summer-full of Daddy time.  "Mother" mode was definitely back in full swing, but we made the best of it and had a nice day.

Tuesday started with a playdate with another young mom who is motherless, and while our kids poured sand over each other, the two of us shared struggles and encouragement with each other.  In the afternoon, I found some new fresh tomato recipes and put a lovely dinner on the table (while texting back and forth with my sis-in-law), which felt great!  After putting the kids to bed, I had a conversation with yet another sister, focusing mainly on her boyfriend, whom I haven't yet been able to meet.  It was delightful to hear her gush on about this budding relationship...although I have to admit I felt a bit old and matronly.

Today we got out of town for a zoo visit with another family, and I--mostly--enjoyed cooking another tomato-centered dinner this evening.  The four of us definitely enjoyed eating it, at any rate!

Looking over this rather lengthy narrative, there are two main things that stand out to me:

1. I have a lot of friends and sisters.
2. I have a jam-packed life.

Eight non-mom-mode hours per week might just allow my life to be a little more paced out.  Or maybe other unexpected events will challenge my time in new ways.  Or maybe I'll get to have fewer multi- and more single-tasked times.

Or maybe, just maybe, I'll start the school year by putting my feet up, turning off my phone, and eating chocolate...at least for the first few hours.

The Eighth, Year Three, 08 April 2013

Today marks year three of Mom's Heavenly homegoing.  I miss her.  Like crazy.  Within just the past few months, I've started dreaming about her on occasion, and we sit together and she hugs me.  It feels so good.

The past two years, as many of us as were available got together to spend the day with each other.  This year, The Eighth came on a Monday, which makes it awkward for out-of-towners to travel around.  So I marked the day in a number of ways.

Yesterday afternoon, G, Z, and I drove to pick up my one-year-old nephew, Baby K, from Claire and Bernie (my sister and bro-in-law), who were badly in need of some adult time.  It was our first time having a slumber party with Baby K, and we had a blast!  It was fun to watch him play with the many Duplos we have, all of which were gifts from my parents.  I enjoyed thinking about how even though my mom isn't here to watch Baby K play, he is still getting to participate in gifts she gave her grandsons.

Early this morning--5:30--I woke up with The Eighth heavy on my heart.  Instead of fitfully trying to sleep longer, I got up and looked at photos of my mom.

This is one of my very favorite pictures of Mom and me.  (You can tell I'm a girl by the ruffles on my shirt.  Hair doesn't run in our family.)  She taught us that the best part of baking was licking the beaters.  Salmonella shmalmonella!

Z got up a little later and cuddled with me under the quilt Mom made for me after Jay and I were married.  She made the same pattern for every single one of us, but we each got to shop with her and pick our own fabrics.  I love the memory of being with Mom at my local fabric store.

Kind of ironic in retrospect that Mom's not in the picture!  From left to right: Claire and Bernie, me and Jay, Carl, Dad, Kay, Essie, and Em.  (Dad's quilt was made from scraps of ours.)

After I fed little boys breakfast and sent G off to school, Claire arrived at our house and she and I jetted out for a pedicure while Z and B.K. played with Grammy G (it's an alphabet soup of names, really).  When we got back, the four of us had lunch together and spent some time outside; Claire and Z played baseball and I sat with B.K. on the grass while he spun wheels on some trucks.

After rests all-round, Claire and B.K. went home and I made dinner.  Mundane, perhaps, but even the simple act of feeding my family is a connection I have with Mom.  She was my first cooking teacher.  (And aside from experience, my only teacher, actually!)

Jay took the kids to play at a park after we ate, and I "puttered," as Mom would say, around the house, doing little chores.  Then, I sat down at the piano.  Mom's piano.  And I played for an hour.  Brahms, Schubert, Bach, Clementi, Chopin--all music Mom taught me to love.  Growing up, I listened to her play the piano; I listened to the records and CDs she put on; my fingers learned to feel keys and follow music under her instruction.  Mom was not my only piano teacher (in truth, I whined too much under her tutelage), but she was my first.  My first piano duets were with her.  The first songs I sang were accompanied by her.

I had hoped to sing/play with her for years to come, but I am so grateful for the memories I have and the lessons she taught me--

Love God, love your husband, love your children, love your family, love your neighbor, love music.

Thank you, Mom, and I love you.  Save me a spot by the piano bench in your Heavenly mansion!

Weekend Workout, 30 April 2012

Today was a recovery day from a full and emotional weekend.

Thursday:
Involved a packed day of preparing for the weekend, while blowing my nose regularly, telling myself I had allergies.

Friday morning:
Started at 6:15 a.m. with bacon and eggs for my sister Em who had been driving all night, immediately after which we drove for 2.5 hours to the home of my aunt and uncle, where I made more preparations for the evening's festivities.

Friday evening:
My sister Clare, her husband Bernie, and my favorite nephew arrived and we put on an evening bridal shower for Em, who's getting married this summer.  The shower was lovely!  I spent the night at my aunt's home.

Saturday morning:
Began with a delicious, leisurely breakfast she and my uncle prepared for me and Clare's little family (not at 6:15 a.m.).  Then I had the joy of watching lots and lots of precious smiles from my nephew (it killed me that I couldn't hold him due to potential germs), followed by a laughter-filled lunch at my dad's house with Jay, Clare et al, Em and fiance, my sister Essie (recently returned from a stay abroad) and my dad's bride-to-be.

Saturday evening:
The group of us migrated to yet another relative's beautiful home and celebrated the anniversary of my mom's sister having been on the mission field for 20 years.  A very meaningful time.

Then things finally started slowing down as Jay and I left the anniversary gathering. I took him just up the road to see my mom's grave site.  Walking up to the spot, it was interesting to observe that I expected to feel a sense of comfort, like, "This is somewhere I can be with Mom," but once at the site, it was just so clear that she wasn't there.  Of course, I'm glad that her soul isn't buried in a pile of dust underground, but it would have been nice to feel like I was standing with her, you know?  On the long drive home, I cried with the ache of missing Mom.  Going through so many family events without her hurt so much.

Having been away from the kids all weekend, Jay and I took them out to breakfast at McDonald's on Sunday morning.  A few elderly people at a nearby table enjoyed watching the antics of the kids as we refereed them during the meal.  (No, you can't climb up on the counter; this isn't a play place.  You asked for a sandwich--too late to change your mind.  Yes, this is your drink.  You're so cute!  Yes, you get the same amount as G.  Don't drop your straw!  I love you.)  Jay smiled and quipped to our amused audience, “Breakfast theater! They are the show!” as he waved a hand over the kids.

We went to church afterward, and I kept trying to figure out why I had so much hesitation in registering for an upcoming annual women's lunch.  After the service, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I just can't stand to go this year because the last two years in a row I sat next to Jay's mom.  Plus, it's being held the day before Mother's Day, which feels very lonely this year.  Tears leaked out from under my sunglasses while I stood in the arms of a friend.

Jay made lunch for us and I got a good nap--sooo needed!  After naptime the four of us headed out to my father-in-law's house for dinner and to meet one of his friends.  It's really fun watching my FIL cook.  :-)  But I really missed seeing my MIL in the kitchen.  Heavy sigh.

Then home to bed for the night, which brings us back to today and its helpful normalness.  Doing school with G wasn’t too bad (we even got to do a little science experiment).  Then off to the park!

A few buckets of sand and four grubby hands later, two little squealing boys got hosed off in the backyard when we got home.  After naps Daddy got home and took them to the pool while I took a walk with a friend and had a good sharing/praying and time with her.  Dinner tonight was centered around peas and green onions from our garden; we had our weekly family prayer time; pjs and stories for the kids; time with Jay; and time to myself.

The last few days certainly have been chock-full.  Writing this post has been tricky for me because I've struggled with which details to include--or more accurately, which not to include.  The reason I've written so much is simply because This is what happened.  This last weekend and today are equally parts of my life.  Tomorrow is part of my life too, and since I'm less than two hours away from it, this is a good place to end today's story.  Tomorrow will have its own!

Hats, 21 April 2012

Today was a day of wearing many "hats."  Just for fun, I'm going to make a list.

Cherished Wife
The day started last night, with Jay taking the kids to spend the night and this morning at his dad's house.  I had hours of coveted alone time (I may have eaten two croissants on the couch in front of the TV, and one of them may have contained vanilla ice cream and hot fudge sauce), so I woke up late and stayed in bed even longer.

Wedding Coordinator
From the comfort of my bed (no children to get up for), I made phone calls and arrangements pertaining to my sister's upcoming wedding.

Sister
Sent birthday greetings to another sister!

Auntie
Listened to adorable noises from my little nephew over the phone...and cooed right back at him.

Farmer Girl
Once I got up, I donned outdoor gear and shoveled rabbit manure from their "run" enclosure to the compost pile.  Then I mowed both the back and front lawns and fed the rabbits.  (Doesn't do much good to scoop poop if you don't feed the critters.)  I also measured the largest pea pod growing on my vines.  It's at 2.5 inches, so tomorrow it may be at the required 3 inches, and we'll eat it!

Good Neighbor
After mowing my lawns, I wheeled the machine across the street and mowed my neighbor's lawn.  We have a good deal going; I mow his lawn, and in return he pays house calls and cuts our hair for us at a discounted price.  Pretty sweet!

Housekeeper
Emptied and loaded the dishwasher.  My kitchen smells better now.

Organizational Expert
Consulted with Jay about reorganizing the garage; he was the driving force, but I did contribute.

Mommy
Played games, read books, raced with, planted a corn seedling--yes, just one; a school project--and bathed two darling little boys.

Supportive Wife
Listened to Jay relate some health research discoveries he's made.

Party Planner
Compiled recipes and grocery lists for two parties I'm co-hosting next week.

Chef
Executed dinner for four tonight.  (Greek yogurt with fruit toppings--hey, that Greek stuff has tons of protein.)

Friend
Commented here and there on Facebook posts.

Creative Artist
Wrote in my blog!

Shameless Crime Show Fan
Watched an episode or-so of one of our favorite shows with Jay.

In conclusion, sometimes I feel a little like Bartholomew Cubbins of the charming Dr. Seuss story, but today was actually a peaceful, good-feeling day.  What can I say?  I look good in hats.  :-)

Resurrection Sunday, 08 April 2012

Today, my kitchen smells like Easter.  The heady fragrance of a single pink jasmine stem in a vase, plus the watery smell of shelled, hard-boiled eggs are scents of Easter to me.  Growing up, Mom and Dad usually referred to Easter Sunday as "Resurrection Sunday."  The sun was virtually always shining that day, and the yard was perfumed with lilac, sweet pea, and pink jasmine.  After church and a family meal during the first half of the day, in the afternoon we'd hunt hand-decorated eggs and sit on the lawn to eat them, accompanying our simple picnic with a selection of homemade once-a-year cookies.

As a mom myself now, I've carried on some of those traditions.  We decorated eggs last night; we dressed up for church this morning; we had a big family lunch around my table; and we hunted eggs this afternoon.  (G and Z only wanted to do two rounds of hiding because they were so excited to shell the eggs and dig in!)

There were some new elements today, too.  Today was my ADORABLE nephew's first Easter, and he's just learning to zero-in on people's faces, so Auntie Rachel spent a good deal of time staring and making goo-goo noises at him.  This is the first year the boys have hunted eggs in the backyard of our new house, so Jay and I had fun discovering good hiding places.

Today has been a very special day.  But it's a sad day for me, too.  Two years ago on this date, my Mom had her own resurrection--the resurrection of her spirit to be with Jesus.  But that day was not a celebration for us, as we wept in the hospital corridors and clung to each other in grief.  And you know what?  I miss Mom.  Today I wondered what she would think of the solo I sang in church, and if she would have liked the way I roasted the chicken.  I wanted to hear her beckon one of my kids with an excited voice, helping them find a hiding egg.  She would have rolled her eyes at Jay's puns and cleared her throat with mock nervousness listening to my brother's harrowing work stories.  And oh, wouldn't she have loved cooing at her newest grandson, tickling him and making clicking noises with her tongue.

Today we are missing Jay's mom, too.  This is our first Easter since she walked into Jesus' arms.  Last year, she delightedly ate the meal I prepared and giggled with glee watching the little boys wander through the yard finding their eggs.  It's inconceivable to me, really, that she wasn't here this year.  She would have been here.  She should have been here.

So here is a whole Easter basket-full of feelings--joy, sadness, thankfulness, hope, grief, confusion, delight, satisfaction, and I'm sure many others that haven't been named.  But tonight, as I enjoy the perfume of my pink jasmine stem, I think I'm going to end this day looking at Hope:  Jesus has conquered death, He is alive, He has given me a life worth living, and I am going to see Him when it's my turn for a resurrection.

He is risen!  He is risen indeed.