How to Visit an Art Museum with Children

Thinking of taking your kids to an art museum? Want to make it as successful and happy a visit as possible? Whether you are a seasoned museum-goer or a novice visitor, the tips below will make taking children to the art museum a joy:

Before You Visit

• Plan a short visit--a few galleries, one exhibition. An hour is usually more than enough and about all a preschooler can happily handle.
• Visit the museum's website to see if they have any children's materials (most do--and I have written many) to help you prepare or to complete there. Call to ask if you can take pencils (never crayons or pens) and paper into the galleries. Most museums I've worked at get edgy about children with art supplies unless in a program accompanied by staff members.
• Eat beforehand. Because you can't snack in the galleries. Even cheerios or sippy cups.
• Discuss the rules. Try to phrase them positively, such as "look with your eyes not with your hands" and "use your inside voice." Museum behavior is not the modus operandi for most children but knowing what to expect--and keeping it short--helps.

During Your Visit

• When you arrive, find a map and locate the bathrooms, cafe, and shop.
• Depending on how your kids do in shops, go there first to look at the postcard display. Let the children choose a few postcards they like and use those to guide your visit. Some museum maps have pictures and you can use those instead.
• Review the rules.
• Introduce your child to a guard. I always explain to my school tours that guards are there to protect you and the art. And if you get lost, they are in almost every room and can help you out. Most guards are glad to say hello.
• Let the children lead the way.
• Talk. It's okay to talk in a gallery. Comment on what you see, ask open-ended questions (what do you see? what do you think is going on?).
• Embrace the family (or one-on-one) time. Avoid programs the first time, until the kids are comfortable in the space, unless your child really thrives on group activities. Tours especially often require quiet, still, attentive behavior which can be difficult for little ones. And programs for kids in the galleries can be overwhelming to a newcomer (or difficult for a family depending on the age span of your children).
• Take a break midway--outdoor sculpture gardens are ideal for getting the wiggles and giggles out.

After Your Visit

• Don't forget what educators call the "follow-up activity." Do something based on your visit: draw a picture inspired by those you saw; make a collage with your map, tickets, and postcards; look at other, similar works of art in books or on the internet.
• Discuss, discuss, discuss: What did you like? What didn't you like? Tell family and friends.
• Plan your next visit!

For more ideas (and there are several lists of tips on the web), see this interview with Jean L. Sousa, head of Family Programs at The Art Institute of Chicago.

Love Cupcakes, Eat Often

Miss T and I had an awesome time in NYC on our cupcake tour, but not because of the cupcakes. Most of the places we visited were pretty standard and unimaginative; we were looking for cupcake creativity. What we found did not match what Miss T creates (you should be proud, Miss T--yours are better than the best we found in NYC). But we didn't let that hamper our good time, especially because we also managed to shop at a few other stores, including Balducci's, have tea at the iconic British shop Tea and Sympathy (where I had scones and tea and Miss T ate--get this--Spaghetti Os on toast!), and finished off the tour by sitting on a comfy couch and sipping deliciously rich hot chocolate at Chocolate Bar in Henri Bendel overlooking 5th Avenue. I include my thoughts below and look forward to Miss T's more professional opinions.

• Buttercup Bakeshop--Because this was near Mama's old office, I have had many of their cupcakes before--Lady Baltimore, German Chocolate, Lemon, Devil Dog, Red Velvet--and was excited that they were on our list to visit. And they didn't disappoint! While there isn't much seating or space, the staff were friendly and the cupcake variety inspiring. Indeed, it was my favorite cupcake stop of the day. I had a delicious almond-y Lady Baltimore, with merengue-coconut topping and a cherry, my favorite. I even bought the cookbook so I can try making some myself.
• Cupcake Cafe--the other place I had been before, this cupcake place is in new digs across the street from its former hole-in-the-wall locale behind the Port Authority. The detailed, accurate, floral decorations on the cupcakes, made with this delightfully colored frosting in many shades, are simply gorgeous. The frosting is very buttery, not very sugary. And the cupcakes were standard chocolate or vanilla, with a few different buttercreams, so not very adventurous. I had vanilla/vanilla, but it was so cold that it tasted like the refrigerator; the one Sis ate at home--chocolate/chocolate with pink tulips--was better because it wasn't ice-cold. The urban eclectic space--the best space and decor of the four shops--certainly added to the enjoyment of otherwise standard tasting but beautiful cupcakes.
• Magnolia Bakery--Eh. Yes, yes, I know, it's famous from "Sex and the City." Too urban hip for me, with its young NYU see-and-be-seen crowd gathering outside (because there is no seating) to inhale the rather standard chocolate and vanilla cupcakes with buttercream frosting. No real taste adventures; nothing big in the decoration department. I read on the menu that you can order special flavors, if you are going to get a dozen. I didn't, and so had a chocolate/chocolate, which I took home and didn't even finish (and Bud had a pink-frosted chocolate cupcake, the closet to strawberry I could find; he quit halfway through). Best thing about it? Well, there are two: I love the "I [cupcake] NY" t-shirt even if they made it in sizes that only fit young NYU students (and Miss T!); and I'm glad the former owner was successful enough to leave and open Buttercup Cafe!!
• Babycakes--This was the vegan/hypo-allergenic bakery on our list, having been featured everywhere for its gluten-free, low glycemic fare. I had seen Erin McKenna the owner/baker on Martha Stewart and in several magazines. Of course, wth the kids having had allergies, I was familiar with these kinds of treats, in theory. Most of the gluten-, egg-, dairy-, and soy-free cakes and cookies I had made or bought were mediocre to inedible. But Babycakes's sweets were definitely edible, even good. Well, good enough. There is nothing that mimics the crumb of flour but they do a good job of creating a lighter, cakey baked texture, not the dense, gritty cornbread-like cake I often managed to make. And the frosting--which is palm oil based (she finally released a recipe of the frosting, which is a real jewel if you need a dairy-free one and don't want to go the Crisco way)--is very good. Period. I enjoyed my GF lemon cupcake, well, as long as I had frosting left. There was a little sadness for me that we hadn't been able to get such cakes for Bud and Sis when we needed them. Even with the familiar retro, 50s chic decor, I didn't feel comfortable there, especially with aforementioned Erin frosting cakes in the visible, tiny kitchen without any air of warmth or welcome. Miss T even tried to engage her in conversation without much success. And we were obvious cupcake fans. Oh, well. I recommend it if you need vegan or hypoallergenic--you'll be in heaven. And there is a cookbook coming out, which I wish I could've had three years ago.

A lovely day, a wonderful experience, great memories, and even pictures (which I will try to send to Miss T so she can post them, as they are all of her). And I understand that as I type, Miss T is researching local CT cupcake shops for a last whirlwind Moms Night Out. I'm in!

Mission Statement

In every museum I have worked, the creation of a mission statement and our adherence to it has been central to our activities. To guide the path of this blog, I include here my working mission statement:

As a museum professional with experience heading departments of education in New York City and as an academic art historian with a Ph.D. in nineteenth-century British art focusing on the representation of the art public, I am committed to the study, investigation, and enjoyment of works of art and the museums that protect, research, and exhibit them. Through this blog, I will

• Encourage the exploration of art and museums with children, their adults, and other audiences;
• Share my knowledge, interests, and experiences of art and museums;
• Invite others, both professionals and nonprofessonals, to share their knowledge, interests, and experiences of art and museums;
• Provide related news, information, resources, and links.

Sugar Coma

Miss T and I did our Cupcake Tour of NYC today and had a wonderful time.

However, I am in a sugar-induced coma from eating my way across 4 bakeries, one teahouse, and a chocolate shop, so I will post at length about the fun tomorow.

I'll say only two things now:

• Miss T's cupcakes are better than any we tried today: more creative flavors, better crumb, with a decorative touch. Now, if she'll only try to make a Lady Baltimore for me!!
• Thank you, Mama, for making our detailed itinerary map!

Have sweet dreams!

I will.

Crime and Punishment, or Good Behavior and Sticker Charts

I came to the discussion on Motherlode late but am intrigued by the commotion about discipline, bribery, cash changing hands. It all sounded like a bad tv movie.

No, it's parenting.

Motherlode blogger Lisa Belkin had posted a snippet from another blogger (Amy O) on NYC Moms Blog that described how she had begun to give her kids a dollar a day if they behaved (it's more complicated than that but you can follow the link above to learn all the details). Fourteen dollars was a small amount to pay for peace, she rationalized. Apparently, Motherlode's commentors went nuts. I always enjoy the comments as much, if not more, than the posts on the NYTimes blogs (including Domestic Disturbances by Judith Warner). My two favorites, verbatim:

• Poor parenting skills that only the privileged can afford.— Carol
• So is the rest of the world is supposed to keep bribe money handy to keep Amy O.s misbehaved kids from acting up?— James

I didn't read all the comments but according to a later post by Belkin, several people mentioned Alfie Kohn's theories on parenting children, set forth in such books as Unconditional Parenting: Moving from Rewards and Punishments to Love and Reason and Punished by Rewards. He differentiates between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, stating that by focusing on external/extrinsic motivation such as sticker charts, rewards, and cash bribes, we are actually decreasing children's intrinsic motivation and hampering our own efforts to create lasting good behaviors (see the link above for a long transcription of his comments).

Personally, I don't yet have an opinion on rewards, charts, bribes, etc, but now have several vantage points from which to consider it, having only used a potty chart for a bit with ambiguous results. Apropos to us, this all comes at a time when Bud and Sis are obsessed with sticker charts. Oh, sure, when we had a potty chart with stickers, they weren't much interested. They didn't care much about stickers when they didn't want to pee on the potty and didn't care much about stickers when they did want to pee on the potty, but put stickers on the chart at other intervals. I guess that means they had intrinsic motivation. But you see, now Sid the Science Kid did a whole episode about charts and data as one of his science tools. And since the kiddos are obsessed with Sid (I like him too because he sings "I love my mom/my mom is cool" which they will repeat!), they now love charts. Yesterday, Bud insisted on making a chart to mark off when we take vitamins. He even drew in all the horizontal grid lines himself! Then he greatly enjoyed watching me check off a week's worth of days (not grasping the whole concept, he wanted me to check all the squares then and there). He's very protective of his chart, has put it on the refrigerator with a strong magnet, in a visible spot; then he likes to show it to people. Tonight, we made sticker charts . . . just to make sticker charts. Sis filled hers with a variety of Dora stickers (after I made the grid) and Bud carefully placed animals stickers in the grid he drew himself. They even had me make one. And then we hung them all up on the fridge.

I guess Alfie Kohn would be okay with these charts, though, because they don't represent any kind of reward or punishment system. They just are.

I know Sid the Science Kid would be proud.

I am.

Baby Love

They knew a surprise was coming because I had told them when I left last night that I was going to an arts and crafts meeting. I promised to show them what I made. Sis desperately wanted to come with me, but was at least happily distracted by Mama's being home early.

And so this morning, the first thing out of Bud's mouth was "What did you make?" And as soon as Sis joined us, I showed them their baby books. One of the first pages has a picture of me, Mama, and the babes in their blue bouncy seats, probably only a week or so old. Bud said, "Aren't they cute?" Sis repeatedly showed various pictures of herself to us, saying "Aren't I cute?" We went through each book at least twice. They were so pleased, so proud, so excited to see pictures of themselves. Bud especially liked the picture of him dressed as a pumpkin for his first Halloween, sitting right next to his now second-favorite bunny Jo (for the record, Bud has Meg and Jo; Sis has Amy and Bess, which is how she says it. I named them, before we had kids. Sis always likes to hear how Mama gave me the bunnies when I was pregnant and then I gave them to the kiddos). A mere coincidence. Sis was a little disappointed that there was no corresponding baby picture of her with Amy, but she was pleased to see Shirt (especially since we didn't include the picture of Bud wearing Shirt when it was still just his shirt).

I don't feel guilty that it took so long to get the books to a presentable state because they probably wouldn't have appreciated or cared for them properly. But I am inspired, we both are, to keep working on the photo albums. It was such fun to choose the pictures, to remember their babyhood, to see how far we've all come.

How To Be A Better (fill in the blank)

For whatever reason (and I'm not going to take it personally), several people have recommended a variety of self-improvement, psychology, and parenting books to me recently. For the record, while I'm always interested in new or useful tools for navigating life's challenges, I don't like being made to feel inadequate so that I will pay for a book or system to make me better (which is why I don't like most parenting or women's magazines). I like my advice free or at least cheap (and value it as such until it proves successful), without any guilt or inferiority complexes attached. For the most part, these pass the initial screening:

• Loving Guidance: My mom pointed me towards this website after a long disclaimer about how she knew I was a conscientious parent and probably didn't need it but wouldn't I like to take a look. I did and found Dr. Becky Bailey's Top Ten To-Do's For Discipline a decent list of parenting techniques. I am a little wary of doctors whose goal seems to be the selling of expensive programs and materials to schools and parents. But that doesn't mean that the strategy is inherently suspect. Her main goals seem to be empowering the child with his or her own behavior management (such as, when another child wrongs them and they come crying to you, ask "Did you like that?" The answer is, of course, "no." And so the child is encouraged to go tell the perpetrator. We have been telling the kiddos that they need to talk to the person that can fix the problem. Same thing). As with all approaches, consistency and thoughtfulness really are the key. Trust yourself, respect the child, consider the Wiccan Rede/Golden Rule (or the similar rule of your spiritual path). In the end, we won't know how we have really done for 30 years or more, as my friend Lambeth reminds me constantly (and he can--his children are all grown). But until then, if these strategies--or those of Alfie Kohn (more on him in a later post about charts), Sears, Brazelton, Dr. Spock, Marshall Rosenberg (Nonviolent Communication), or even Super Nanny--help, go for it.
• Personal Renewal: Personal Renewal Groups (PRG), an offshoot of Renee Peterson Trudeau's The Mother's Guide to Self-Renewal: How to Reclaim, Rejuvenate, and Re-Balance Your Life, are a flexible life-coaching system designed to explore "1) how to reconnect with who you are, 2) strategies for making self-care/nurturing a priority so you can live, love and parent optimally and 3) how to experience greater life balance." As you know, I am in a state of transition, with a friend moving and the desire to reconnect with my professional, academic self; my mom friends are in a similar state of flux. And so, one of us who hopes to become a life coach wants to start a PRG. I'll participate, if only because I 1) like to socialize with my adult friends without the kids around and 2) would like to talk about something other than kids (and sex. Why are those always the two topics??)
• Seven Choices: My mom has also recommended Elizabeth Harper Neeld's Seven Choices: Finding Daylight After Loss Shatters Your World. It sounds a lot like a self-help Year of Magical Thinking or a more recent Necessary Losses. According to the author's website, this book, which was distributed by the American Red Cross after September 11, 2001," maps the complete grieving and change process and provides a way to respond to change by identifying seven positive choices that lead to a 'new normal.' These positive choices bring healing and stability and show how to avoid getting stuck in mourning, anger, bitterness and sadness." I'm interested in pastoral care and would find this fascinating, I think. My mom raved about her writing style and her message, which is big praise from a woman who doesn't read self-help books either.

Any other suggestions from the hoi polloi?

Triple Threat

Me. Babysitter. Sis.

Sis woke up at 5:15 am coughing.

Waking up Bud.

They didn't go back to sleep.

A Taste of Home

When all else fails, eat something comforting.

It wasn't healthy. It wasn't Core. It wasn't good for sinus congestion.

But it was good.

Milk Toast

1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour
1 cup milk
2 hard boiled eggs
2 pieces of toast
grated mild cheese, optional
salt, pepper

Brown flour in melted butter, until thick paste. Add milk slowly, forming white sauce. Add cheese, egg, and salt and pepper to taste. Pour over toast.
Mom

Crying Over Spilt Milk

And a broken bowl. And spilt uncooked scrambled eggs. And spilt iced tea. And the dinner that didn't finish by the dinnertime.

Sometimes, crying is the only thing that works.

Friends Don't Let Friends . . .

. . . use glue.

So, we're having craft night tomorrow and I'm taking the opportunity to finish our baby books. We've printed 50 photos and I queried my scrapbooking friends about the best glue to use.

Au contraire.

You don't use glue anymore. You use these snaily double-sided adhesive thingies. I wasn't going to buy a gadget, just a little glue stick, but I'm assured that it is a). not expensive and b). much superior to glue.

So, thank you wisecraftwomyn for the glue intervention. I didn't realize that it made that much of a difference.

(And thank you Miss T for getting me a snaily thing since I won't be getting out before tomorrow night).

Because I'm Bored (and sick)

[This is from a recent email that's been going around playgroup. I'm going to try it in blog form. Tag, your turn.]

YOU'RE IT! If you opened it, you have to do it.Then, send it back to the person who sent it to you and the rest of your friends!

Two names you go by:
1. Mommy
2. Hon

Two things you are wearing right now:
1. black pants
2. black sweatshirt

Two of your favorite things to do:
1. bake
2. crochet

Two things you want very badly at the moment:
1. my babysitter
2. a nap

Two favorite pets you had/have:
1. Hermione
2. Albus
(gotta choose the ones here now!)

Two people who will definitely fill this out:
1. Mommy Goose
2. Miss T
(Doesn't quite work in blog form; let's see who else posts her answers)

What have you eaten today:
1. cereal
2. black bean soup

People you last spoke to:
1. Sis
2. Bud

Two things you're doing tomorrow:
1. making a pot pie with my friend Miss L
2. going to craft night

Two favorite holidays:
1. Christmas
2. my birthday

Two favorite beverages:
1.root beer float
2. iced soy chai

Here is what you're supposed to do ... well, in this case, just post your answers on your blog!

Double Ugh

Our beloved babysitter just called. She's sick too.

Ugh.

Ugh.

I had a whole list of things to do today, had intentionally come home straight from drop off this morning to put the kids' dinner in the crockpot so I could run errands this afternoon until the moment Babysitter had to go home. So, no glue from the craft store for scrapbook night, no ingredients for the snack I was taking, no new pants since I never have enough, no dinner makings for Mama and I (I was going to make Mama Teacher's soup and I need a can of beans), no wellness workout (I was going to attempt the treadmill, even with a cold), and hardest of all no coffee break while reading Unredeemed Captive, my book on the repercussions and ramifications of the Deerfield Massacre in the early 18th century (yes, Mom, years later, I'm finally getting to it).

Actually, Babysitter gave me a choice. She just has a cold and she knows how I rely on her. But I couldn't make her come out in this weather, or risk the kids catching it. So I told her to stay home.

At least Sis was thrilled I was staying home. "You can pretend to be Babysitter."

Two's A Charm

Quickly, a few more lessons I have learned from having two kids, in addition to my previous post on the subject.

• You will never know who did it. You will have turned your head for a millisecond and then they will both be crying. And you won't know what happened or "who started it." You try to figure out whom to send to time out but in the end you tell them to "work it out." Because of course they both did it.
• You will rarely get a good picture of both of them together. And if you do, you will have taken 20 pictures before that.


• There will always be a split decision. It's like living with a Republican and Democrat. They see things differently. They want different things. That includes dinner, tv show, playing outside or going inside. Sometimes they do it just to be contrary. How to cope? Well, for now, we have taught the kids "eeny meeny miney moe," which they like so much they request it. Think it would work in Congress? Who cares, we won!


• A caveat to the "different but equal rule": just because you buy something for one (new coat, shoes, underwear) doesn't mean you have to buy something for the other one (because sometimes they just don't need a new one yet). Just don't ever do it while they are watching. You're Santa Claus/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy, you need the practice being sneaky anyway.


• Moods are contagious. Crying begets crying; giggles create more giggles. This can work in your favor. Or not.


• Dress the kiddos in the same color if not the same shirt when you are going out in big places or crowds. It makes it easier to find them and then you need only remember one color.


• Regardless of what they eat, they will always poop within 5 minutes of each other. I swear.

Ugh

I don't feel well. It's not major, not enough to go to the doctor or beg Mama to take a day off from work. But with a headache, sore throat, sinus congestion, and just a sense of malaise, I'm already not coping well today, and it's not yet 8 a.m. Apparently, it's going around. Miss T's post says she's under the weather too. I hope we both get well soon. Until then, at least it's Thursday with school in the morning and babysitter in the afternoon. I just have to muster the energy to actually get them out of the house.

Old Agism

We just had a warm visit from one of our church friends, who said she had been meaning to come by for 2 1/2 years. This friend was one of the first we got to know five years ago. She even invited us to her house for dessert that Thanksgiving, having known us only a few weeks. We loved her mincemeat pie and now try to make one every year. She also had us over for a quilting lesson, which helped with the completion of my first quilt.

Today, she stopped by with books for the kids and some homemade marmalade for me. She says she just boils up any kind of orange in sugar while she is sterilizing the jars and then--BAM!--yummy, homemade marmalade. No stress, no fuss. Of course, she's probably been canning for years, in addition to quilting and cooking, but it's inspiring to be reminded that things that seem so foreign or challenging can be quite easy. She's always so calm and relaxed. I never know what she's going to say and she's never what I expect from someone her age. I have made this mistake before. Yes, like most members of younger generations, I can be agist, but I have certainly learned how wrong that is. Now that I'm older! But often it seems that her approach to life and to parenting have been way ahead of what I think of her time. Though, maybe that's because I've been wrong in my assumptions about her time all along.

So, I'm glad that she came and sat with us for an hour and that the kiddos, who were busy eating for the first half of the visit but played with her during the second (probably surprised to see someone from church in our house), got to spend extended time (and not just fellowship at church, where they know several of our older lady contingent) with someone from another generation, someone who isn't quite old enough to be their great-grandmother, but almost. Especially because, to use a phrase from my generation, she's so cool. And her marmalade is great!

Projects Ending and Projects Beginning

I finished my blanket! Yep, during our 3 hour rest time today, I finished the last section and then edged the whole thing. Yippee! This means I might actually get to the Christmas stockings for Mama and me that I've been meaning to make. (And then, in a delusional moment, I imagined making a quilt for Mama for Christmas. Without her knowing. Right.)


But, more urgently, we spent the evening choosing pictures for the baby books, which I will work on at all-night crafting on Friday. We picked about 50 for the two books and got really excited about eventually doing albums of the last 3 1/2 years. Though, I wouldn't be able to finish that project during a year's worth of rest times!


So many projects, so little rest time.

Food is Always Better When Someone Else Cooks

I love eating at other people's houses, and not just because I don't have to cook. I really like trying new foods (and acquiring new recipes). Today, we went to Mama Teacher's house for lunch, since we were all off for Veteran's Day. She had made a delicious Core (thank you!) vegetable soup for us. And Mr C made the kids his world famous grilled cheese sandwiches (with real butter!). It was a delicious lunch with friends.

And almost best of all, she loaned me the cookbook!

-=-=-=-=-

Winter Vegetable Soup

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup finely chopped onion
3/4 cup finely chopped carrot (about 2 carrots)
2 garlic cloves, minced
2-14.5 oz cans Great Northern beans (cannellini), rinsed and drained
1-14.5 oz can diced tomatoes, with liquid
2 cups cubed Yukon Gold potato (about 10 oz)
2 1/2 cups water
2-14.5 oz cans vegetable broth
1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1-10 oz package frozen chopped spinach, thawed, drained, and squeezed dry (she left this out--the right decision, I think)

Heat oil in Dutch oven, over medium-high heat. Add onion, carrot, and garlic; cook, stirring occasionally, 4 minutes or until onion is tender. Stir in tomatoes and next 7 ingredients. Bring to a boil; cover, reduce heat, and simmer 40 minutes or until vegetables are tender. Add spinach; cover and cook 5 minutes.

Weight Watchers Annual Recipes for Success 2003 (3 pts a cup)

Chocolate Park

Sis loves chocolate. Chocolate cake. Chocolate frosting. Chocolate pudding. Chocolate milk. Chocolate chip cookies. Chocolate candy.

And so I told her about the "chocolate park," or Hershey's, PA. I said it had chocolate food, chocolate games, and chocolate rides.

She is ready to go.

In truth, we had long considered heading out to PA to see friends near Philly, so going to the chocolate park was not too far out of the realm of possibility. And definitely more interesting to me than Sesame Place, even if I don't particularly like Hershey's regular chocolates (I do now like some of their new dark chocolates, the Cacao Reserve line; otherwise, it's too sweet and waxy). Mama isn't much into chocolate (I still love her, though: more for me!) and hasn't been that wild about heading west. But now I have someone on my side, an irresistible and persistence preschooler.

Sis and Bud even made their own "chocolate park" this morning. The spread nighttime diapers all over the floor and then stood at the door taking tickets. We then danced around the diapers like stepping stones, our "chocolate game." We ate some chocolate and then played somewhere.

Come on, what could be better than that?

My Day at the Spa

For my sister's birthday, she went to a swanky spa in Austin; one of the best in the country, I was told. Massage, hot tub, a very relaxing treat for a very busy woman.

I just had a spa day, too. I have them regularly. Well, the mommy equivalent. Sis and Bud love playing with lotion but run out of places on their little bodies for it. But I have plenty of space, so they rubbed my feet and legs and hands and arms. Bud got my cheeks, which meant I could enjoy the nice lavender scent all day.

But there was more--they did my hair! I love to have my hair brushed or washed, my head rubbed. I think I got one brush of the hair, a few rubs of my head, and the tingly sensation of Bud pulling out my barrette, which he doesn't like. I almost, almost, got a back rub when they started playing with my necklace.

I think this must have been the teaser package.

(It should be noted that turnaround is fairplay. I could almost never be cajoled into scratching my mom's feet or rubbing my dad's back. Oh, I understand the agony of the half-rub/scratch.)

Inside, Outside

Bud just asked for two pairs of booties. For inside and outside shoes. Sis had taken both pairs I'd just pulled out for dress-up. For inside and outside shoes. Now they are wandering around the downstairs, stopping at various "houses" and changing their shoes, just like I do when we come and go from the house.

Christmas Wouldn't be Christmas Without Any . . .

. . . carols.

I just went carolling.

Not sure how Sis came up with the idea, but she distributed various critters around the house, and then packed her bunnies in the stroller, picked up some sheet music off the piano, and had me carry the cake to pass out. We sang her original composition, "Happy New Year All the Way" at each house and then gave them a piece of cake. Bud carried his "running penguin" aka Little Big Pengy, swaddled in a tablecloth, and also his jingle bells for playing along.

'Tis the season.

A Salute to Veterans

My thoughts go out to our veterans today, past and present, active and retired, overseas or at home. Particularly, Miss T's husband, the first soldier I've ever known, and those with family in the military, including Mama Teacher and a friend at church.

WeddingMania

Weddings do odd things to people.

As I've mentioned, we're going to get married on Christmas Eve, with both sets of our parents here. Just something really small.

Or, well, that was our intention. But the more people we tell, the bigger it gets.

What is with people and weddings?

I must say, I'm not one of those gals who ever gave much thought to weddings (or marriage, for that matter), even as a child. No plans about dresses or food or flowers or music or location. Now, my sister who just got married in a beautiful, very well-thought out and well-planned ceremony this summer, had weddings on the brain as a child. She even worked in a bridal gown shop in high school and took lessons in cake decorating because she liked white wedding cakes, as I recall. But I guess all the thoughts (and year's worth of hard work) paid off; it was lovely.

I think I might have been relieved to be a lesbian because, at least for awhile, that freed me up from weddings. Even before it was legal, Mama and I had pretty much decided we wouldn't do it or anything like it. We're too cheap or selfish in the end, preferring a trip to Europe (or several, or even around the world, considering the cost of weddings) to a wedding. I think we're also a little shy, a little embarrassed about the fuss. That's why our civil union was held during a regular church service with no advance warning to anyone but our folks and a friend who helped set up the cake and coffee, and was also coupled with the baby dedication.

But we want the marriage for the legal rights and a(nother) picture for the kids. And we have a minister. And my folks will be here. And I'm always up for cake. So, we thought we'd call it a wedding.

Well, it's getting bigger now. Every friend we've told wants to know when the party is, where we would register. When I laugh this off, saying this is our third time down the aisle so to speak, they insist that we must, that it would be fun, that they would come. A woman at church wants to help with the spread. Friends have offered to help me plan the party. They've even chosen mid-January (or mid-March, even, so Miss T can be here and we'd have more time. Time?? Oh goodness. We need time to plan?) for the reception, acknowledging that we really should have the wedding part when my folks are here. Though a few have even intimated that they would be able to attend a wedding on Christmas Eve!!

And I'm nothing but touched, plus a little surprised. What I saw as not much of a big deal is huge to all these women (it's been all women we've talked to this far), who have been married themselves (though not all in weddings, or big weddings, since I guess anytime you get married is a kind of wedding??). It's like joining a club, something akin to having a baby, I think, a rite of passage. And I'm tickled that they are excited that we're joining up, even if we've been together for 11 1/2 years and it seems odd to me to celebrate in a large fashion. So call it a celebration of you're-still-together, one said.

But I think the wedding fever is catching because I actually had thoughts about how we would do it. It wouldn't be typical, more of an afternoon playgroup/party similar to Applepalooza or Groundhog's Day, except probably at church in the big hall. When I balked at plans, someone even suggested it could be potluck. I could see appetizers and cake, not a meal. Very kid friendly. But would we have to talk? Would there be toasts? Would my family want to be at the reception too? Would I have to buy another dress (I'm still challenged to think about something for Christmas Eve!)? Would we need to print invitations? Is it greedy to register for gifts this late in the game? It all feels so . . . odd.

And that's when I get cold feet and think we won't do anything but the paperwork with our minister and folks after all.

Who knows.

It's Raining ________

"Hallelujah, it's raining--"

Candy. Trains. Baseballs. Manatees. Tea. Lara bars. Bunnies. Cats. Chocolate.

Can you imagine it?

We do, practically every night at the dinner table. When conversation lulls or poor behavior threatens, we discuss, "what is your cloud raining?" Can you guess whose answer is whose?

It started with the "if all of the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops, oh what a rain it would be" song. And then we started saying what else we would like clouds to produce. The answers are always the same, but it's still fun exercise. And always makes dinner more fun.

(Answer: Sis. Bud. Bud. Mama. Sis for me. Bud for me. Sis. Mama. Sis and me.)

Let the Planning Begin

I spend more time planning our Thanksgiving meal than we do cooking, eating, and cleaning it up. I think it's one of my favorite activities for the holiday, even if I almost never vary the menu. I just enjoy thinking about what I could make, even if I really only want to eat the traditional stuff. Especially because this will be the first major holiday meal that the kids can eat wheat and dairy, both of which were missing completely from last year's repast (though we found credible even tasty substutes). It'll be nice to serve them our family's "real thing." We've come a long way in a year.

And yes, we'll have a turkey. Only 1.5/7 of our guests are vegetarians (Mama goes back and forth, especially when her folks are around). And I want gravy, so we'll put a bird in the oven. Otherwise, we're having:

• my mom's cornbread dressing
• 3 cranberry sauces: my homemade, Mama's homemade with horseradish and sour cream from NPR, and canned jelly sauce with no berries
• my mom's green bean casserole
• my mom's canned yams with marshmallows (which she doesn't make any more, liking Aunt Banana's delicious souffle, but that has nuts. Can I have the recipe anyway?)
• my roasted carrots
• green salad
• rice for Ma
• dinner rolls for 99 cents from the store
• strawberry jello salad for Bud
• pumpkin pie for Sis with homemade whipped cream
• poached pears, the new dish for this year (well, we made a delicious red wine caramel poached pear years ago but I'm looking for a new kid-friendlier/easier recipe)

Options this year include mashed potatoes and lime jello salad. Not sure yet if they'll make the list. For munching while we cook, there will be the requisite black-eyed pea dip from Aunt Banana. And because I'm in the mood for Cranberry Upside Down Cake, we'll make that for our church potluck; we don't need another dessert for Thanksgiving.

Hook and Needle

I'm almost done with the blanket I'm working on. And I've had some help. I often pull it out during rest time, spreading it out on the bed on me, with a kiddo on either side. They were immediately interested; like cats, kids seem to be attracted to yarn. Both Sis and Bud have sat on my lap and held the hook while I've helped them make some stitches. Sis also likes to "help" by unwinding skeins so the yarn is "ready." Luckily, I have extra and have just switched out the skein I'm using. I'm going to have to look up how left-handers crochet because eventually I think Sis is going to want to do it herself.

Sexism and Thomas the Tank Engine

"Did you tell your friend that we would be here?" his wife asked.

"No, why would he come? He just has daughters," the husband replied.

It must be a sentiment shared by many CT parents, as girls were few and far between at the Day out with Thomas. Lots of moms, more dads than you see at almost any event, boys galore. And just Sis and a few others. But I'd wager that Sis had as much fun as Bud. They both loved the amusement park rides--boats, firetrucks, and carousel. Sis especially liked getting a temporary Rosie tattoo and meeting Sir Topham Hatt. Bud didn't like that at all, much preferring to play with the toy trains on the track layouts. And riding Thomas the Tank Engine? That was best of all. Sis and Bud sat taking it all in, concentrating, mesmerized by the rumble of the engine, the sight of white steam spreading across the meadow, the smell of burning coal, the smooth leather seats that reversed to allow family groupings, even the luggage rack overhead where we happily placed all of our jackets. But it wasn't until we received our Jr Engineer certificates and left the train that they cracked huge smiles. Hers just as big as his.

I must admit to a little of my own sexism yesterday. And it has to do with my perceptions of the differences of male and female parenting. For two years running at Day out with Thomas, plus other situations like birthday parties when dads are present too, I have noticed that dads seem to be a lot less likely to step in and enforce a civil, social code of behavior with their children (specifically their sons). How many times yesterday did I see dads step back while their sons got into shoving matches and tug-o'wars for train engines? But as soon as moms showed up, the moms would pull the boys apart, often insisting that they share or, if not, have to leave the play area. Of course, being an enforcer of social behavior, I'm always a little surprised at some dads' complete lack of attention to such things. Not just surprised, annoyed. Frustrated. Righteous, even. This is, of course, a complete and stereotypical generalization, because I know lackadasical moms and disciplined dads. And I'm both at times, different times. But as a keen observer of fatherhood from a distance, I often wonder exactly how the parenting differs. And this is what I've noticed--there is just a lot less of "what do we say?" or "you need to share" or "your turn is over now so let's give that toy to the other little boy" and a lot more turning a blind eye to toy snatching and shoving. I've got some incomplete, sociologically and psychologically weak, even sexist theories as to why.

You with dads in the family, or dads yoursevles, can you help me out? What's going on? Or am I way off base?

The Littlest Curators

Pietro Martini after Johann Heinrich Ramberg, The Exhibition of the Royal Academy, 1787, c. 1787, British Museum

My little artists have turned curator on me. Today during dinner, I had an idea to assign them each a door in our kitchen--one to the basement, one to the bathroom--for their artwork, which has overflowed on the fridge, magnetic wall, and kitchen cabinets. We chose locations with "eeny-meeny-miny-mo" (which they LOVE), with Bud getting the coveted basement spot and Sis acquiring the more visible bathroom door. They immediately abandonned food and started gathering stray works of art from other places, thrilled to be able to tape up their works by themselves (Sis prefers tape rolls on the back while Bud just likes one big, vertical, linear piece at the top).

And wouldn't you know it, they are both Academicians straight from London's Royal Academy or, with a nod to their French predecessors, the Academie des beaux-arts (can't find my accent marks in Blogger and can't recall when or if an adjective is ever capitalized, which is why, by the way, my expertise is in British not French art). They hung, beginning on the line, floor to ceiling, edge to edge (there being no frames). They even created works of art on the spot, which were subsequently "skyed."

It made my little academic art heart go pitter pat.

Frustration

I had a rude awakening last night: sometimes I think I'm doing well at my diet and then I realize that in actuality I'm not. Call me self-delusional. Or, at the least, absent-minded. In other words, I forget that in one week we made lemon poppy seed bread, chocolate rice krispie treats, fruit cobbler, pistachio fluff, and sugar cookies, and that friends brought over macaroons, and two delicious kinds of sugar cookies. Even when I just sample, that is a lot of food, and sometimes I do more than sample. I thought I had been doing well at Core (the more South Beach/Atkins-style of WW) but then realized that all those things add up. No wonder I've been trying to lose the same 3 lbs to get past a mental and numerical hump. So, I've tossed my Amish Friendship Bread starter. I just don't need to bake bread every 10 days, even if I give most of it away. If I want to bake later on, I certainly know how to throw together a quick bread without starter. Even if I have a good time doing the starter cycle, it's just not worth the frustration.

Frustration. Transition. Rut. These were all words we bandied about this morning during our playdate. I'm not the only mom feeling at a loss this season. Everyone I have talked to this week is reevaluating life, schedules, priorities. We're all a little depressed about our friend's move, a little unsure of what meaningful projects or activities we want to take on next as the children grow, a little tense about finances and holidays and expectations, even a little sleep- deprived because of the end of DST (or infants, depending), not to mention identifiably concrete stressors of illness, death, grief, unemployment, finances, moves, and family issues.

But at least we have each other. Miss T wrote today about her "honeyline" of friends who support her. And we are all fortunate in our network of friends. When another friend called me on Monday just to say, "I'm worried about you" when I missed playdate, I was touched and comforted; it actually improved my spirits. And so we all reach out to each other in a continuous web (okay, skipping from bees to spiders here) of connection. Being cared for, and in turn caring for others, and not just the members of my immediate family, is what keeps me going. Even when we are all frustrated.

Good Advice for Backs

I just read in a mag that Americans spend $89 billion on back pain every year.

In addition to weight management and exercise, I would suggest two things to make you feel better:

• Never twist, bend, or reach at the same time.
• When you sneeze, tilt your head back--this takes away the stress on your back. It feels weird but it works.

That, and ibuprofen.

A New Look

I'm trying something new, inspired by Miss T's new blog. So, I've changed the color; I love purple. I can't quite bring myself to change the font because I'm so used to Georgia. But I wrote my diss in Times so I might eventually switch. We'll see. After 1 1/2 years, I thought it might be time for a change but it looks funny to me.

The Three Questions (with an apology to Tolstoy)

I've been thinking recently of what it means to be a friend, a parent, a spouse. And I realize that I've been asking myself a series of questions to address situations in which I am unsure:

• Is what I am about to say true, kind, and necessary?
• Will it matter tomorrow?
• And, for parenting, am I interacting or instructing/educating?

The true/kind/necessary rule was first brought to my attention by our minister, but webminions indicate it originated in such diverse places as Socrates, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and yogic instruction. There seems to be debate about whether you should say something if it meets one or two criteria; for me, that misses the point. Just pausing to think about my interactions often improves them, regardless of exactly how many criteria it satisifes. Mindfulness, for me, always has a positive effect, be it in talking, acting, or even eating. It was in thinking on this question recently that I realized I really only look for two qualities in a friend: kindness and intelligence. Kindness doesn't mean giving me stuff, but is compassion, senstivity, love, and respect for others (even people you don't like or don't know). And I don't mean intelligence of the book-learning kind, but a real engagement in the world and a curiosity about it. I don't care if you don't know what short story by Tolstoy is referenced in this blog title, but I'd like to think that you'd be curious enough to ask or look it up.

As for, "will it matter tomorrow?", this question came to me in an article about parents of a severely disabled boy who ended up arguing about everything. This question comes in handy with Mama's housekeeping sometimes. Does it matter that she leaves out her ingredients when she cooks or puts dirty dishes to the side of the sink instead of in the dishwasher? No. While it might seem to matter because I have to clean them up now and will probably have to again tomorrow, arguing about it doesn't matter to me right now. And in the end, neither do the dishes, really. And this isn't just some kind of virtual nag. Really. It works the opposite way, too. Does it matter tomorrow if I let the kids make a mess around the house today? Yes. By letting them, say, spread the couch pillows out in a "road" around the downstairs and pretend to be the construction workers who also then stop at my roadside restaurant in the kitchen, even with pillows everywhere and other toys strewn about, I am giving them the time, space, and mess to play instead of stopping them in advance because I know they won't clean it up and I'll have to. Does it matter? What matters is that I get better at teaching them to clean up, not that they don't get to mess up in the first place. And while this all seems fuzzy as I spell it out, going through the thought process in the two seconds before I say something I might regret helps.

This might make me sound like a foul-mouthed, strict, mean, bossy woman who would say terrible things if it weren't for these little questions. But I find as parenthood continues that now more than before I sometimes speak before I think. Is it exhaustion? habit? the need constantly to be on the alert? greater responsiblities? Who knows, I just know it happens.

Finally, the last one about interacting and educating comes from an article about autistic children and teens who need interaction so much more than education, according to theories. I find that I spend a lot of time educating my kids who, while not autistic, are still little kids. It's a habit form my days as a professional educator. But sometimes instead of focusing on the color or shapes of leaves, why they fall, and what kind of tree they come from, I need to pile up those leaves and jump in them or throw them up in the air. Then, as we're lying leaf-strewn on the ground, I can start lecturing on the leaves. Or not.

Though now having just refreshed my memory of Tolstoy's parable, I might have to add his three questions to my list just to keep me present and mindful. Because in the end, he said it much better than I did.

It's Chinese to Him

Bud can read Chinese.

Okay, not much.

Really, it's just that he recognizes the characters for the numbers.

But it's in Chinese!

He had homework from our Chinese class that he did with Mama this weekend. And he was looking at the little sentences and knew that one of them said, "wo san sui," or "I am three years old."

Granted, he recognizes the three-stroke character for "san" because, well, three strokes equals "three" in this case. But he knew what it meant without counting in sequence (which is how I figured it out) or asking me what the other characters were (which wouldn't have helped because I can't identify the other two readily).

Wow.

Now Sis, on the other hand, was not so concerned with the characters but instead really got into how she drew the correct number of candles on the birthday cake, which was the crux of the assignment. She made sure each candle had a flame.

Wow.

And I was going to complain that our weekly, faraway Chinese class was messing up our routine.

The Next Big Thing

Goodbye, Halloween. Hello, Thanksgiving.

The transition was hard. We had a last candy feast on Sunday evening and packed up all the decorations. Bud and Sis just didn't understand that Halloween was over, even if their costumes are now in the dress-up box downstairs and available for play anytime. But the candy, the nighttime romp, the parties, are over.

It's harder to get jazzed about Thanksgiving as a kid. Sure, eating is fun. But, well, what else? No eggs to find. No presents to unwrap. No fireworks. No birthday candles. We pulled out our Thanksgivng decorations and books, trying to transfer the Halloween happiness into enthusiasm for the next holiday.

And they took to it like, well, the only poultry metaphor I can recall is "ducks to water." They put our two big stuffed turkeys (oh, don't get me started on the irony of that as the symbol of the holiday. Turkeys or pilgrims. I'm disturbed as a vegetarian, a culturally-sensitive individual, and an historian) in the middle of the sofa table and set it with our cloth napkins for a feast. They invited all of their critters and fed them corn, eggplant, tomatoes, and birthday cake.

Otherwise, Sis is already planning on her pumpkin pie and Bud has requested strawberry jello (in my new jello mold!). Mama and I are making plans for how to watch the parade on television (since the only tv is tiny and upstairs) and how to augment the turkey with enough sides for us two vegetarians.

But I feel we might be behind already. The store I was in yesterday has skipped Thanksgiving completely and is already playing Christmas music. What is it Charlie Brown says? "Argh!"

Baby Daze

Sis has a thing for babies right now. When a babies visit, she likes to read to them, give them toys, help feed them, and the like. As long as they can't get into her stuff, which many of them are starting to do. She's even said she wishes she could see her and Bud as babies, not just in pictures. But she loves the pictures, loves to hear about herself as a young 'un. "Mommy, tell me stories about when I was a baby." And so we've been telling her, and Bud, about their first Halloween, their first outings, how Sis would practice rolling over, how they both liked to pull toys out of boxes and then crawl into the boxes, how Bud liked to spin things. Sis especially loves to hear how her hair stood straight up on top for two years--she'll demonstrate with her now-longer (but still short) hair that it used to stand up on top but now falls down the sides. She also loves to hear about her nickname, "The Empress," and Bud is happy to be "wavin' Bud." Bud always asks how I made them. Like how I make cookies or something, the recipe for babies. "With Mama and love." Then, often they want us to hold them like babies, or, as with dinner tonight, feed them like babies; there is always lots of pretend baby talk. And when I hold Sis like a baby, brush her bangs away from her face, and look down on her cheeks, I can totally see chubby cheeks of the baby she once was. And when Bud comes for "cuddles" and wraps his arms around me, the feeling is the same as when he used to rest his head on my shoulder before he could really hold it up by himself. Maybe we all have a thing for babies right now.

Hey, Good Lookin'

Congrats on the new blog, Miss T! It looks great (and makes my blog feel frumpy and jealous!).

Can't wait to read (and eat) on . . .

Mommy, What is a Cemetery?

I'm glad that the ladybug (and hopefully the worm too) in my previous post didn't succumb. I would have had to talk to the kids about death again. Something--this fall, Halloween, memories of our friend in Chicago whom we visited this time a year ago, the noticing of cemeteries--has spurred a lot of conversation with the kids about death and burial. They're the ones bringing it up. Not in a morbid way, they're just curious.

"Mom, what is that?" Bud asks.

"It's a cemetery. . . where people are buried when they die."

"Hmmmm. Are you going to be buried?"

"Something like that." (note: I want to be cremated. But I'm not explaining that to them now.)

"Are we going to be buried?"

Okay, let's not go there. "Yes, probably. But much later."

"When we're old?"

"Probably."

Just a representation of conversations I have had this week. Bud especially is interested, though not scared, of the concept. I think it all started when the cats knocked the picture of our Chicago friend off the mantle and he found it. He wants to visit her apartment, her cats, her partner Miss K, their musical instruments; he had such a good time on that trip and really liked M and K. He wants to send Miss K a card. He says he misses Miss M. And then he wants to know how you die, how bodies get sick or break, who gets buried in a cemetery. The only thing he hasn't asked is what happens next.

I don't know what happens next, either after death or with these conversations.

Play Daze

We've made good on our goal to spend more time outside. Yesterday, the kiddos weren't ready to go inside, having had a great time on the playground at school. We stopped by the park on our way home because I saw that a flock of geese was in the pond. Sis and Bud had fun running around the water watching the geese dive, flap, and apparently take their baths. And they spotted the local cat again, which occasioned much excitement. Then they played on the playsets. A swing injury (more like a swing scare--Sis fell off backwards at "take off") and a need to pee (I had the portable potty with us but that was a no-go) took us home early, but instead of going inside, we played outside for another 2 hours. We took all of the big sticks in our yard and built a three-sided cabin (just the walls, so more like a barricade) under our little pine tree. We even made a door and had a good time going "inside" and "outside." Reason number 15 not to clean up your yard: sticks are perfect playthings!

And so, first thing after breakfast this morning, we headed outside for another marathon play session. In addition to playing in our stick house, Sis asked that we build another fairy house. Making one in the fall is totally different than in the spring or summer because of the available materials: this one has a stockade-like fence protecting the little lean-to, all of which is buttressed and covered with bright yellow and orange leaves to keep the fairies warm. No flowers or gardens here, but a nice big Torii-like gate so we can easily spot the structure amid all the falling leaves.

We also played with a ladybug that Sis found climbing on a bush. She wanted to hold it and as I passed it to her I noticed that my hands were covered in orange liquid. Oh, goodness, had I inadvertently squashed and killed the poor little ladybug? I set it down and thank heavens it was soon moving. I think it peed on me!! The kids were fascinated. Because I thought the little bug might have had enough, we left it alone but watched it wander around the sidewalk for quite awhile. "Be good to bugs!"

This afternoon we arrived home from Chinese class as it was beginning to rain. Puddles! Sis and Bud got their jackets and boots and headed outside to play. We danced under my umbrella, twirling the rainbow colors and singing "Singing in the Rain." And they made a huge mess of themselves splashing in the water.

And then they found the worm, high and dry near my van on the driveway. I suggested we move the poor thing to the grass, afraid it might already be dead. But it wiggled! So Sis insisted we dig a hole for it, place a little scoop of water for a drink, and cover it with a leaf or two for a comfy blanket.

I really, really, really hope that worm is not there when we go out to play tomorrow . . . .

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday, Aunt Banana!

We hope you have a good one, which is why we haven't called you at 8 a.m. Texas time!

Thinking of You

Our thoughts go out to Miss J's family, as her father is ill.

And to little G who has yet another ear infection.

And finally to Mama. Mama's aunt was killed in Bangkok this weekend. Our thoughts are with her family, both here and there.

Autumn

The orangey-yellow leaves are falling like quiet, steady raindrops today.

Everytime I look out a window, I see hundreds of leaves dancing their way to the colorful blanket covering the earth.

It might be a mixed metaphor, but it's beautiful.

Feeling the Love

While it looks like California GLBTs might lose their right to marry, Connecticut has defeated a constitutional convention designed in part to take away our right.

Next week, marriage licenses become available here.

We'll do it, of course, for all of the legal rights that come with it. Ceremony #3, after a civil partnership in NY and a civil union here in CT. Third's a charm, right?

We're thinking perhaps Christmas Eve, when all of our parents are together again, just something really small since the minister would sign the form anyway. Sis would say as long as there is cake, it's a party.

Should we register? Send out announcements? "Sis and Bud announce the marriage of their mommies."

Stayed tuned. This might just become one of those wedding blogs!

Bless the USA

What a wonderful day it is: the end of an awful era, the beginning of a hopeful new one.

We've just elected a African-American/bi-racial president.

I haven't been proud to be an American in a long time; I am right now.

It's a beautiful day.

But we have a lot of hard work ahead of us. We can do it. Yes, we can!

Hallefuckinglujah!

Organizing Meals

I have a new favorite website: foodtidings.com It helps organize meals for people in need. Having been the recipient of meals twice, I know how important the food is: it is a sheer relief not to have to worry about shopping, cooking, or cleaning; it is comforting to know that people are thinking of you; it's actually fun to try new and different dishes. For about a year and a half, I've organized meals for my playgroup members and I'm starting to organize meals for my church. While email has made it pretty easy, this website streamlines the whole process by noting allergies, likes/dislike, delivery location and good times, even setting particular dates. People are invited to sign up, note what they are cooking, and the date is saved--no double-booking or repeated foods or extra email! You can even include the recipient so she or he can keep track of meal deliveries. Just as I've been writing this post, three people have signed up for my current meal request and the recipient has checked the invitation and had me amend likes/dislikes. I LOVE this website.

However, the website doesn't offer tips for people who provide meals. I've seen several pages from both moms' clubs and the LDS's Relief Society noting best practices for delivering meals to others, even best recipes. Here are mine:

• Deliver meals in disposable containers. Do not send dishes you want back.
• Label everything with the name of the dish and reheating instructions (you might even note if leftovers freeze).
• Store-bought meals and even take-out/delivery are just fine.
• I try to include a note or card, depending on the reason for the meal.
• Be prepared to drop off the meal without a visit; pack everything in a bag or box.
• If you are invited in for a visit, keep it brief.
• Remember to deliver the meal in time for an early dinner or with enough time to reheat the dish (I usually suggest 3-5 pm as a drop-off window for our group, so that each deliverer doesn't have to make an arrangement with the recipient. And they always know where to drop it off if no one answers the door).

As for recipes, I usually make stuffed shells with spinach, which will feed several adults, reheats quickly, and freezes beautifully; it's also quick to make and popular with children, even if it's kind of predictable and boring. I also include a bag salad and some kind of dessert (usually cookies, often Oreos. Who doesn't like Oreos?). I like to email them the recipe, too, mainly because I'm a recipe junkie and like to share.
Lastly, it is particularly kind if you let the meal recipient know that they need not write a thank-you note. That is the second-best gift you can give.
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Stuffed Shells

1 package manicotti
2-27 oz. jars spaghetti sauce
2 eggs
1-15 oz. container ricotta cheese
4 cups (16 oz) shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1 cup (4 oz) grate parmesan cheese, divided
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley (1 tablespoon dried)

Cook manicotti according to package directions; drain. Preheat oven to 35O°F. Spray bottom of 15 x 10 x 2 inch glass baking dish with no stick cooking spray. In large bowl, beat eggs; stir in ricotta, 3 cups of the mozzarella, ¾ cup of parmesan, and parsley.

Spread 1 jar of sauce on bottom of baking dish. Fill each cooked manicotti with ricotta mixture. Arrange filled manicotti in baking dish. Top with second jar of sauce and remaining cheese.

Bake, covered with foil, until bubbly, about 45 minutes. Uncover and continue until cheese is melted, about 5 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Note: one-10 oz. package frozen chopped spinach, thawed, water squeezed out, may be added to the ricotta mixture. I imagine you could also add browned ground beef to the spaghetti sauce, too.

-=-=-=-=-=-
UPDATE:  Since this post in November 2008, I've explored other meals to bring to people in need.  They're all variations on baked pasta, with ease of cooking and reheating key.

Easy Ravioli Bake

9 oz refrigerated low fat cheese ravioli

24 oz marinara sauce

2-10 oz packages frozen chopped spinach, defrosted and squeezed ry

1 cup shredded mozzarella

2 tablespoons Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 375F. Cook the ravioli according to package directions, omitting oil and salt if desired.

Spray at 2 quart baking dish with nonstick spray. Spread half the marinara sauce in the dish. Add half of the ravioli, then top with half of the spinach and half of the mozzarella. Repeat layering once. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese. Cover with foil and bake until bubbly, about 20 minutes. Uncover and bake until the cheese is melted and slightly golden, 6-8 minutes longer.

Comfort Classics (7 pts a serving, which is 1/4 of the casserole)

Alternate:  Easier Ravioli Bake

Here it goes:

1. Boil one package of refrigerated ravioli with two packages of frozen spinach until ravioli are tender (see their package for instructions). Drain well in colander.

2. In baking dish sprayed with non-stick cooking spray, layer marinara sauce (half of 1 jar), half of ravioli/spinach mixture, and 1 cup mozzarella cheese. Repeat once.

3. Bake at 375 for 20 minutes covered, then uncover and bake until cheese melts.

Easier!

Baked Ziti (with penne!)

1 box whole wheat penne

1-10 oz. package frozen chopped spinach
1-27 oz. jar spaghetti sauce
1 egg
appx. 8 oz. container ricotta cheese
2 cups (8 oz) shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1/2 cup (2 oz) grate parmesan cheese, divided
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley (1 tablespoon dried) or other Italian seasonings

Cook pasta according to package directions, along with frozen spinach (in the same pot!); drain. Preheat oven to 35O°F. Spray bottom of 15 x 10 x 2 inch glass baking dish with no stick cooking spray. In large bowl, beat eggs; stir in ricotta, 1 1/2 cups of the mozzarella, 1/3 cup of parmesan, and seasonings. Pour hot pasta/spinach mixture into egg-cheese mixture and stir.

Spread 1/2 jar of sauce on bottom of baking dish. Spread pasta mixture into baking dish. Top with second half of sauce and remaining cheese.

Bake, covered with foil sprayed with cooking spray, until bubbly, about 45 minutes. Uncover and continue until cheese is melted, about 5 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Note: I imagine you could also add browned ground beef to the spaghetti sauce, too.

Spaghetti Pie

4 cups cooked spaghetti (about 1/2 pound uncooked)--I'm using whole wheat

1-10 oz package frozen chopped broccoli, thaed and squeezed dry

1 cup shredded smoked mozzarella cheese

1/2 cup part-skim ricotta cheese

1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese

1 large egg, beaten

1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

1 1/2 cups marinara sauce, warmed in the microwave

chopped parsley leaves

Preheat oven to 350F and coat 9" springform pan (I'm using a foil pie plate) with nonstick spray.  Stir the spaghetti, broccoli, cheeses, egg, and Italian seasonings together in large bowl. Scrape in pan and level the top.  Bake 30 minutes or until golden. Cool about 5 minutes and then remove sides of springform pan. Cut into 6 wedges. Serve with marinara and parsley.

Weight Watchers Eat! Play! Move!

Alternate:  Fettucine Pie
Substitute 1/2 lb cooked fettuccine for spaghetti, add 5 oz of green peas, and chopped ham or bacon.  Season generously because this won't be served with a marinara.  Bake as usual.  

Here We Go

The kiddos and I went to vote this morning before preschool because Mama had called to let us know the lines were very short. Indeed, we didn't even have to wait in line to check off our names! Much quicker than when we voted for governor a few years ago. And there were so many more booths that we didn't have to wait for a spot to vote either, mainly because we were using Scantron-like ballots, not machines. The kiddos don't quite understand voting or the concept of "president", who they are confusing with a king and asked if we were going to vote at the queen's castle. But even so, the election officials won't let them touch my ballot, which I then fed into the little machine. We got stickers for each of us and bought a treat for them at the bake sale outside and off we went to preschool. Early. With the kids chanting "GoBama" in the back.

Under the Weather

I'm under the weather in a mental sense, I think. Down, though not out, just a little sad and depressed. There are particular reasons--my friend's move, challenges with my diet, difficulty with some of my wellness exercises, the sudden illness of my professor, even the absence of my babysitter today--and more general ones, like my paranoid sense that Obama will lose this election (or worse, win the popular vote and lose the electoral college--election 2000 all over again) and we will sink further and further into a shameful Republican quagmire (because, damn, if we can't elect a Democrat after these last 8 years, we'll never be able to again and the country will continue to go to hell). And, after years of loving "fall back," I hate the end of daylight savings time--the kids go to bed on the new time but wake up on the old, which means less sleep and more grumpiness for all of us. It's been a long day. Even our last activity today, making Rice Krispies, was only marginally comforting. We added a handful of chcolate chips to the melting marshmallow-butter mixture, then added all the cereal, and, once it was mixed in, another handful or two of chocolate chips. Wow. Better than Cocoa Krispies or chocolate marshmallows. I could imagine it with dried cherries or Craisins. But--and this is the "marginally" part--I only had a taste because I'm doing Core now and didn't want to eat much.

Blah.

Warm Wishes

Warm wishes for a speedy recovery go out to my dissertation advisor who had emergency surgery this weekend. I'm stil trying to get the details but hear she will be headed home in the next few days.

Thinking of you!

Two Appetizers and a Party

Last night was the goodbye party for my friend, Miss T, who will be moving at the end of the month. It was great to see all the moms together; it's been a long time since we all (almost) made it out at the same time. We wanted to give her a good send off. I hope we did. There was great food, good conversation (not too political, not too much about the children), lots of laughs. Luckily, except when we gave her a going away present (a beautiful Tiffany bracelet, and not the house gift from Pottery Barn the bag seemed to indicate!!), we managed to keep it lighted-hearted. But I think most of us were crying when she said a few words. The rest of the evening promised to be raucous; I think they were heading bar-hopping. I bowed out early to help at my church Halloween party. We'll have a different kind of party next weekend when we do our baking tour of the city.

-=-=-=-=-

Miss K's Baked Brie

1 prepared pie crust
1 round of brie
slivered almonds
apricot preserves
egg wash

Preheat oven (I'm not sure, probably 350F). Roll out pie crust. Place brie in center. Spread preserves on top and sprinkle with almonds. Close pie crust around cheese, pinching to seal. Apply egg wash. Spread more preserves and sprinkle with more almonds. Bake (I don't know how long). Let rest to firm up. Serve.

-=-=-=-=-

Miss T's (not the guest of honor) Olive Spread

1 can cannellini beans
equal amounts kalamata olives, pitted

Drain and rinse beans. Combine with olives in food processor. Blend until desired consistency. Serve with bread.

Our Suburban Adventure

I wrote yesterday about suburban hiking and our goal to spend more time outdoors with the kids. Well, we did that today. We spent the morning at our local park, which we walked to from our house. The kids were curious when we handed them "hiking buckets" to pick up whatever interested them as we walked, as long as they didn't pick a living thing like a flower or leaf on a tree. And then, we turned away from neighbors and headed in a new direction.

But they loved the new park, complete with pond, ducks, and playset. Bud loved Mr. and Mrs. Mallard and friends in the pond, Sis's favorite "greenheads." They even quacked at them. They marvelled at the upside down images in the water but weren't quite convinced by Mama's explanation of reflections. We all liked the dragonflies and butterfly. Bud liked crossing the bridge, where he found the thing that interested them most: a plain ol' tabby cat. Well, this was a suburban adventure after all.

After our walkabout, we headed to the playset where Sis immediately found a stick she liked. What is it with kids and the desire, the absolute need, to find the perfect stick to play with? To Mama and I, her stick looked like a little handgun. But having no concept of guns, she thought it was a "t" at first, then decided it was a hammer, then a musical instrument, then later a shovel for digging. They played "Fireman Sam" on the tall slide, trying to rescue people from the drain nearby. Then took turns doing "silly slides."

And Mama and I did that quintessential mommy thing and sat on the park bench and watched them, perfectly happy with our first "hike." I think we'll be back.

Candy for a Cause

In order to share some of the sweetness of our Halloween festivities with others, I'm gathering leftover candy from friends at church to donate to local causes (domestic violence shelters, groups working with children, food pantries) as well as perhaps to overseas troops.

So, if you read this and live nearby, don't eat all that candy or throw it away, give it to me to give away. I'll be collecting through next week.

Halloween Days 3 and 4

Bud is sleeping in his Yankees baseball costume. Sis fell asleep before we left the room, with her little hand raised to count out happy thoughts. Our four days of festivities were so good that they didn't want them to end.

So, yesterday was the real thing and energy was high the whole time. As I mentioned, we went trick or treating at my exercise class and then went out for lunch. After rest time at home, the holiday really began for us. We decorated. We hung our cute windsock-like ghosty off the flag post. We got the candy ready--300 lollipops--in its big metal bucket. And then we painted all the front windows. It's easy: take washable kids' paints (I use Crayola), add dishwashing liquid (I think the ratio I use is approximately a few tablespoons of soap to about a 1/4 cup paint), mix, and paint. It takes awhile to dry (even thinly applied, it can take hours to really dry) so don't plan on doing any overlays or detail work. Later, it washes away with a wet sponge (wipes don't work; they just seem to create even more bubbles). We, or I should say, I painted a cat on a pumpkin surrounded by the moon; Sis told me to add extra baby pumpkins. Then a big, happy jack o'lantern. Then ghosts, also Sis's idea. Then two spiders and a web, which was Bud's idea.

After painting, we made pizza but barely ate. It was just too exciting. Mama came home and, despite the early hour, we dressed in our costumes. Sis in her vet coat with stethoscope. But in his complete baseball attire. I even donned an apron with whisk, spatula, hot pad, and cookbook: yes, I was a baker. Bud later told me that my costume was perfect. We took some family photos, Mama got the wagon, and off we went in the twilight. We'd practiced saying "trick or treat" and "thank you" and were ready for our first house, always our first house, our neighbor across the side street. They oohed and aahed over the kids, who were ready to go to the next house for candy. Yep, this year, they understand. More than once last night, Bud would pull on my arm and say, "Come on, Mom." This wasn't time for socializing; this was work. Sis was more casual in her approach and would stand and smile, waiting to be offered candy . . . waiting to be offered more candy. Carefully choosing what she wanted both times; of the two of them, she really liked picking her own. Chocolate. Anything in a brown wrapper. But if not chocolate--and again, she seemed to know which ones had nuts and were off limits--then something fruity.

And my these kids had it good. All we had in name brand candy as kids were Hershey miniatures and Tootsie Pops. Only much later did Reese's peanut butter cups and all the single serving candies become available. We had those funky taffy candies in orange and black papers, the requisite raisins and coins, and lots of miniatures. The kids didn't get a single miniature. Instead there were M&Ms, Skittles, Mike and Ikes, Dots, Starbursts, Milk Duds, Tootsie Rolls, Candy Corn, Nerds, Twizzlers, Kit Kats, Smarties (those are the pastel candies in rolls I couldn't remember), plus all the bars--Musketeers, Milky Ways, Mounds. Real candy. Though, I kinda missed Special Darks and Mr Goodbars.

We met up with all the neighborhood kids later, but they were older, bigger, louder, masked, and also outnumbered us, which was overwhelming. After a few houses, we intentionally fell behind and went the rest of the way mostly on our own. I'd say we hit about 10+ houses when it was finally dark enough to be scary and Bud really wanted to go home and eat his stash. So off we went to the front porch, where cookie sheets waited for each child to unload his and her bag. Let the fun begin! We picked out a few off-limits candies and then just let them at it. Sis made a Willy Wonka-inspired mountain of candy by opening all the packets and pouring them together--all the wonderful colors, sizes, textures. She even made a little bridge with the Kit Kats, which was all fine with us because she wasn't actually eating anything. Bud soon followed suit, but managed to nibble more of his stash. Both were intrigued and excited to eat their first candy corns, having seen the iconic candy in many decorations. I don't think they liked them but they liked having them, in a big long tube with a novelty top from a neighbor down the street.

As we ate (we, well, because I snagged some M&Ms from a neighbor; Mama had a few Kit Kats), trick-or-treaters arrived at our house. Sis and Bud would scramble to their feet and race to the door. Each wanted to put a handful of Dum Dums in each visitor's bag, so we gave away a lot of lollipops. But they had so much fun being on the giving end, even as the trick-or-treaters got bigger, older, and scarier as little kids gave way to teenagers. I confess to have contributed to the obsession because I like to hand out candy too and would look out the windows for more visitors; the kids would hop up and look too, disappointed if no one materialized. Finally, as it slowed down, Mama and I both pretended to trick or treat and the kids had just as much fun giving us candy as anyone else!

But soon, we poured the opened and unopened piles into different baggies and called it a night, a late night, really one of the only nights in a year that they are even awake after dark much less outside. No wonder they think every night is Halloween.

Today, the day after, was much quieter, with a morning at home spent hiking around the neighborhood (about which I'll post separately). This evening was a party at our church, so they donned costumes again and headed to the potluck meal with games and crafts and friends. I was late, because tonight was the goodbye party for my friend who will be moving at the end of the month (more on the party later), but showed up in time to help with the last crafts and games. Sis and Bud relished wrapping Mama in toilet paper as a mummy, even though they had no clue what a mummy is. And then this became chaos as everyone threw tp around like confetti, through rolls across the hall, and revelled in general mayhem. But, then, really, candy and mayhem--isn't that what Halloween is mostly about?

Not completely, though, which is why last night Mama and I lit candles on our altar in front of pictures and mementoes of our loved ones both with us and also gone.