Category Archives: family life

>Pre-op day ramblings

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>How to approach this subject without resorting to TMI mode? Metaphors and euphemisms, that’s it. Amigo (age 16) goes to the big state children’s hospital tomorrow for tummy testing. He’s preparing today, with clear liquids and the Pre-op Cocktail designed to, well, cleanse. (Oh, geez, I’m sure the spam will be tremendous on that reference)
I could tell he was nervous because his hand shook as I handed him the first glass. He was relieved it didn’t taste too bad. With the radio set up in the bathroom, he settled in for the duration while I set the timer for 20 minutes until the next dose.
The timing here is either bad or good, but not much in between. I have a nasty cold, stuffed up head, weepy eyes, and painful sinuses. If I didn’t have to stay home with Amigo, I’d probably take a sick day of my own to rest. In short, I’m feeling lousy, in need of rest, and not sure I have the strength to help the teenager deal with his pre-op anxieties. It seems like a classic case of mom taking care of everyone else first, then falling ill herself. Even though I know better, that’s my big weakness.
In between handing Amigo his every-20-minutes glass of Pre-op Cocktail, I’m dosing myself with fluids and vitamin C. I had healthy toast (whole wheat with flaxseed) with local honey for breakfast. I’m inhaling the steam before I drink my coffee; does that count? Eventually I’ll make myself some lunch, but I don’t want to make anything that Amigo will covet, since he can’t eat real food today. Eggs and toast might fit the bill: healthy basics, comfort food, nothing too exciting. Tonight it’s tomato soup and stuffed pork chops, not his favorite either. He’ll have chicken soup (no noodles) and jello. I made two flavors; lime and orange. No strawberry or raspberry; the nurse told us anything with red dye can appear in the tests and skew the results.
Meanwhile, I’ll work in the garden and the kitchen. I have schoolwork in my bag, but it’s too nice out to waste the day indoors. I opened the windows and turned off the heat, and now I’ll harvest the rest of the spinach and a batch of tomatoes if they’re ready. The math facts papers will wait; I can correct them while Amigo’s in the O.R. and recovery.
If Amigo is up to it, he can study for the World History test he’ll miss while he’s gone. After he’s done with his, um, dumping festival, he might stretch out on the couch and read the chapter once or twice. He has an ongoing novel project in the works now, too. He can work on that at the computer, which is fairly close to the Activity Room, so to speak.
We parents, moms especially, seem prone to the thought of “I have to do something! I must make this downtime worthwhile!” I still feel a bit of guilt putting off the math papers until tomorrow. Amigo will let me know if he’s not up to studying today; why can’t I be so straightforward?
Maybe that’s the enlightenment of the day. It’s not the test results tomorrow. It’s knowing that it’s okay to let things slide at work for a little while; the papers will still be there on Saturday. I can take care of myself and my teenager today.

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>Muffins formerly known as Kitchen Sink

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>How much does a recipe have to change before it becomes new? I looked into the refrigerator this morning, saw too many carrots and a final zucchini squash, and decided to make these. This recipe started as Kitchen Sink Muffins (courtesy of Michelle at Scribbit). With my changes it’s still recognizable, but it’s definitely different, too.

Not-so-Prosaic Mosaic Muffins

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoon cinnamon
¼ tsp. nutmeg
½ teaspoon orange peel
½ teaspoon salt
2 cup grated carrots
1 diced apple, skin on
1/2 cup raisins
½ cup crushed walnuts
½ cup grated zucchini
3 eggs or ¾ cup egg substitute
2/3 cup oil or ½ cup applesauce + ¼ cup oil
2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

In a large bowl mix all the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl separately mix the next eight ingredients (carrots through vanilla extract). Stir the wet ingredients into the dry, mixing only until just combined. Pour into 18 lined or greased baking cups and bake at 350 degrees for 20-22 minutes.

Will wheat germ work in these? I forgot to try it. A small amount of honey might be fun, too.

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>Fortune smiles on those who — clean?

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>”Mom, the computer sounds different.”
“Maybe because the speakers are no longer muffled by piles of papers.”

Yes, we cleaned the clutter. I pulled out piles and piles of papers, sorted them into piles for each of us, and then put away all of mine. Husband found the right places for all of his. Amigo’s Camp Awards went up to his room, and La Petite had a couple of items to file, too. Most of the clutter pile was mine or Husband’s. Why do we keep all this, and why was it randomly piled behind the desktop computer? No, don’t answer that. I’m sure there’s no valid response.

In the pile I found several fortunes from fortune cookies. Again, why did I keep these? For future blog post, of course! What other reason could there be?

To Decide Not to Decide is Often a Very Wise Decision.
Oh, just what I need – an excuse to be more indecisive!

Others look up to you.
Well, I’m a short person, so it can’t mean height.

An unexpected event will bring you riches.
I remember this cookie: I taped the fortune to my computer monitor at school because it turned up the day I found out my grant had been approved.

People say you have a sharp sense and superb intellect.
Do they? I’d like to think they’re right. But then again, why am I sitting around watching baseball and writing about fortune cookies? Not the most intellectual of pursuits.

Ignorance never settles a question.
It doesn’t? Why not?

The star of riches is shining upon you.
See above. This was also taped to my monitor at school. If I’m really taking the Cookie thing seriously, it might mean we’re in for more grants. Or maybe, just maybe, it means I’ll find something worth $$ in the next pile of clutter I’m bound to attack.

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>Working Mother, also known as Multi-Tasker

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>Or…a typical Saturday in Daisy’s life

Make coffee.
Feed rabbit.
Read paper and have breakfast.
Chase rabbit out of La Petite’s room.
Check email, Twitters, and Plurks.
Empty dishwasher.
Sort dirty laundry. Start washing laundry.
Reload dishwasher. Again (is that redundant?).
Take out compost. Pick tomatoes. Search unsuccessfully for squirrel Husband reported was lost in garden and couldn’t get out.
Find recipe; bake muffins. Contemplate posting new variation on recipe. Print carrot cake recipe; potential use for extra carrots, now that two bunnies are gone to live with La Petite at her school apartment.
Continue laundry process while cleaning kitchen while muffins are baking.
Lunch: BLTs with L & T from garden. We’ll miss this when the first major frost comes!
Remove muffins from oven. Mmmmm.
Clean kitchen (again), continue laundry cycles (still), and start schoolwork.
Browse two books scavenged from Throw Away table in lounge. Sort out and copy several usable ideas for vocabulary instruction, math centers, readers’ workshop, and more. Recycle the rest. Teaching budgets, like all state funded budgets, will get more stringent before they’re more generous. Creative scavengers spend time, but save money. Maybe I can apply that to my own life and budget as well.
Grade penmanship papers, using star stickers scavenged from Throw Away table.
Continue laundry process (still, yet, again).
Take out recycling. How many cans and bottles can we generate in half a day? No, don’t answer that.
Fill snack basket. Remind self to bake cookies or bars. Look for easy and nutritious snack recipe.
Move old recipes to new box (scavenged, of course). Recycle old cards, recipes no longer current, and good intentions.
Correct and grade vocabulary worksheets and spelling tests.
Fold a load of clean laundry: the end is in sight!
Post three more books to Paperbackswap.com and hope someone will want or need them.
Fold more underwear and socks, my least favorite load. Amigo says “Underwear! You said underwear!” I say, “Put a sock in it, Buster.”
Wonder if I should text message Husband, who took his bike to the library, and tell him it’s getting cloudy and the storm is moving in. Nah. He’ll say I was worrying too much and whining at him. Let him get wet; he won’t melt.
Check on status of washer, fill dryer, and start planning supper, all in a few moments’ time.
Make supper, feed family, clean kitchen, make soup stock for freezer (and future), take break to watch baseball team lose. Again.
Fold yet more clothes, back up Husband as he censors Amigo’s choice of tunes on YouTube, finish wiping down kitchen table.
Drop off Amigo at Homecoming dance. Do the weekly grocery shopping, this time with two to three weeks in mind because of increasingly busy work schedules. Gawk at huge bill. Wonder who eats all this?!
Go home. Put away food. Decide that the storms can move in, pandemic flu can shut down the city, and we could still feed the family.
Pick up Amigo at dance, exhausted but happy.

Tomorrow? I’m getting tired just thinking of it.

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>Earworms! There oughta be a walk for the cure.

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>Earworms. They happen to the best of us. They’re contagious. They spread. And they don’t respond to antibiotics.
No, an earworm isn’t a viral infection. It’s a song that won’t go away, the song that never ends (yes it goes on and on my friends). Oh, sorry about that.
An earworm can be one you hum under your breath, a classic tune that inspires air guitar while cooking dinner, the one you whistle in the shower, or the refrain that you belt out while behind the wheel when you’re on the road again (just can’t wait to get on the road again). Oops, I did it again.
It’s the type of song that makes a mom walk over to the computer and comment, “Oh, Rod Stewart. Classic rock!” only to be told by her teenager that it’s actually Adult Contemporary.
I truly do believe that there is a song for every occasion, and for every song, an occasion. The occasion isn’t always obvious, either.
Playoff action? Take me out to the ball game!
Waking up so early it’s still dark out? Good morning, starshine!

My hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to work I go anthem? Java Jive, of course. I love the java jive and it loves me.
Don’t even get started on the Wheels on the Bus song.

Tired of working, ready to go home? It’s five o’clock somewhere!

In our home, the place where the cheesehead lives on the piano, the music varies so much you’d be amazed. When Amigo was little, he was always requesting, “Mama, sing!” Now it’ s more likely to be, “Mom, stop that, we’re in public.” But within the confines of our own four walls or even our own minivan, we sing our loud, sing out strong.
Sing of good things, not bad.
Sing of happy, not sad.
Sing, sing a song, make it simple, to last your whole life loooooooong!
Don’t worry that it’s not good enough for anyone else to hear…
because —
I love you just the way you are! (Did you really think I’d make it through a songfest like this without a little Billy Joel? Not a chance!)

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as an entry for a contest sponsored by Bush’s Beans. Remember, no matter how much you “toot” your horn (or sax or tuba), beans are really a vegetable. In this part of the world, they grow in our team colors, too.

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>Vegetable Stew (with beef, eventually)

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>I’m sorry. I can’t give you a recipe. My stews are more likely to be cooked by formula, a formula like this.
Find a little of each and every vegetable in the house, including leftovers. Don’t forget to pick a little of this and that from the garden.
Slice and dice and throw into the crockpot with a pound of stew meat and a few cups of beef stock. Simmer all day. Add gravy (or thickening, if it’s watery enough) about an hour before serving.

The photo was pre-meat and pre-stock. This particular stew includes:
From the garden: spinach, fresh green pepper, one tomato, green and yellow beans, basil
From the farm market: corn on the cob (leftover from Sunday night), red pepper, yellow pepper
From the grocery store: stew meat, a splash of Worcestershire sauce
From the freezer: beef stock

Side dishes: I’ll find something. I have that good light rye bread from the bakery, and I picked up cheese curds at the farm market, too. It’ll be a harvest festival meal!

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>Doing the Research on the Region

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>In my part of the Midwest, it’s considered acceptable to wear green and gold to work if it’s a Packer game day.
In my neighborhood, people dress in their team colors from head to toe, whether the team is winning or losing.
We cheer for hot dogs and bratwurst running around the warning track of a baseball field, and grab for a camera if they wander through our line of sight before a game.
The saying, “If you don’t like Wisconsin weather, wait a day” reminds visitors that we Northerners take pride in our abilities to tough it out in almost any amount of snow and cold. Teachers teach metaphor through the use of the term Frozen Tundra to describe Lambeau Field.
But does this really tell who we are, what we’re like, the personality of our distinctive locale? Maybe it would it be more effective to tell you about making a homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella cheese from the farmers’ market, walking out to the garden on a beautiful fall day to pick a green onion and green pepper for toppings, and then serving it as we watch the noon kickoff.
Either way, Sunday afternoon football is an important part of our lives. So is weather. Gardening, farming, and buying the local products and produce are important, too.
When I talked with author Nicholas Sparks, I asked about setting for his novels. As he responded I felt like I could see and feel the images of the places he described. I asked him about the research involved in successfully placing a novel in a particular setting, and he told me that in general he doesn’t have to do much research because “…in every novel that I’ve written I have been to the town that I’ve described. And of course as a novelist I feel free to take certain liberties when I need to because I’m a novelist and I can do such things.” I call it literary license or creative freedom, Nicholas, so I’m with you there.
He reminded his listeners and readers that “it’s just part of…living in the south and writing about the south. And it’s the way people tell stories, it’s just the way it is down here. It’s a very different world in some places. I live in a small town that I swear hasn’t changed much in 30 years. I mean it is, people walk places, it’s very hot and muggy, you’ve got the Spanish moss hanging from trees, kids running around barefoot. It’s very much like it, it’s like a place stuck in time. And whenever you’re in rural areas of the south it is, of the south, it’s often like that. It’s just, yeah it’s moved up, it’s got the, we’ve got cell phones and the whole bit but the core of the place has not changed. And it is a unique and wonderful place….”
A unique and wonderful place. I feel the same way about my lovely town and neighborhood. It’s changed with the times, it has the old homes, the big trees, and kids on bikes and skateboards side by side with the teens on mopeds; the foam wedge headgear we call cheeseheads side by side with the baseball caps sporting farm advertising; the #4 jerseys in green or gold or pink…let’s not mention the new hue, but I digress. Packer football is as much a part of this unique and wonderful home as the weather.
Absolutely. Real life or novel, this setting has its own character, its own part to play in the story of our lives.

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>More tomato success with crockpot soup

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>I’ve established that I don’t teach straight from the teacher’s manual. I’m a creative cook when needed, too. When I found myself with a boatload of tomatoes and not much time, I looked for a tomato soup recipe. I found two, combined the best elements of both, and came up with this version of Crockpot Tomato soup.

1 quart fresh tomatoes
1 medium to small onion, chopped
1/2 green pepper, chopped
1/2 red pepper, chopped
1 carrot, grated
1 cup fresh beans
1/2 cup grated zucchini
2-3 oz. fresh spinach
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
4-6 cups chicken broth or chicken stock
2 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped
(optional): 1 teaspoon lemon pepper, 1 teaspoon dill
salt and pepper to taste

Wash tomatoes. Core them, but you don’t have to peel them. Yippee! Place tomatoes in crockpot and tomato guts in the compost. Did you think I’d let that go? Not a chance.
Add onion, peppers, carrot, beans, zucchini, spinach, garlic, basil, and broth to crockpot. Let simmer on low for 8-10 hours or high for 4-6 hours.
Close to serving time, blend with an immersion blender (or remove portions from pot and blend in regular blender, but the other way is easier). Use a slotted spoon to remove any skins that are still solid.
Use your favorite thickener. Add slowly and stir. I like a tablespoon or two of cornstarch mixed with a small amount of water or broth, then turn the pot to high for 30 minutes to an hour.
In the meantime, prepare your sides. Salad, fresh bread, even a PBJ will taste good beside this soup. Oh, yes, don’t forget the goldfish crackers!

Adapted by combining Joanne’s tomato soup found on Zorba Paster’s site and Stephanie’s tomato soup recipe on A Year of Crockpotting and adding a few random goodies that were ripe in my garden the day I filled the crockpot. Ah, a vegetable garden is a wonderful thing.

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>It’s Homecoming Week. Do you know what your child is wearing?

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>What will they think of next? No, don’t answer that.

Monday: Pajama Day. Thankfully, Amigo usually skips this one.
Tuesday: Western Day. Amigo decided to wear his favorite country singer, Taylor Swift, featured on a t-shirt he bought last summer when he saw her with Rascal Flats. He’ll top it off with his Dude Ranch cowboy hat and a pair of jeans that fit just right, and the radio on….oops, that’s another song.
Wednesday: 80s prom day. Huh?? I know we don’t own any ruffled tux shirts, and I don’t see Amigo donning a long dress for the day, either. Hm. Bow tie? I’ll check the attic.
Thursday: Hawaiian Day — or is it Luau Day? He has two choices: a Hang Ten t-shirt or a Hawaiian touristy shirt that we found at Goodwill in near-new condition. Either way, it’s a good thing the weather will be nice. Shorts will be in order.
Friday is school spirit day, of course. He’ll wear one of his favorite high school team t-shirts and the school colors and cheer his heart out at the pep rally.

It’s fun to watch the wild and creative ways the kids dress for the homecoming game. All is red, white, and blue (the school colors), right down to the socks, shoes, make-up, and stadium blankets. We’ll go to the game with him, but we won’t sit in the seething mass of hormonal humanity that is the student section. It’ll be enough to sip my hot cocoa and sit with the other adults. We’ll be dressed for the weather, not for the occasion. As for the dance? I’ll drop him off, take a nap or see a movie, and pick him up when it’s all over. He’ll be dressed not in a ruffled tux shirt (thank goodness), but in his alternate Hawaiian attire; whichever piece he didn’t wear on Thursday. The dance has a Luau theme as well; how’s that for fun in this tailgate party haven?

In closing, I won’t worry too much about how he may be dressed each morning. I know that compared to others, he’s rather normal, whatever that may mean.

The topic of children and their creative fashion choices was suggested by Parent Bloggers Network and Toys ‘R Us, home of the Polly Pocket Pop and Swap.

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>Reclaiming the surface

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>The surface of the dresser, that is. It’s a lot like reclaiming the kitchen table. This project had results just as dramatic, and it, too, is an ongoing battle.

The before picture, wide angle. In the foreground you see a crate overflowing with Braille books, in the background a dresser masquerading as a bookshelf.

Close-up of the dresser; it has more than just books on it, but the books are the hardest to handle. Note that the actual shelves to the right are full to overflowing. I can’t help it; books are awesome!

Here’s a closer look at the overflowing crate. Amigo isn’t likely to reread these; his favorites are already on his bookshelf. Now what?

The solution: sort.

1. The Braille volumes are in the box on the left awaiting donation to either the local school system or the state school for the blind.
2. The orange crate is the “hold” crate for books that I might part with — or maybe not.
3. On the right are the books designated for new homes. I posted every title in this crate on Paperbackswap.com.

The result? I can see the dresser top now! My geode bookends look lonely, though. Maybe I need a few new…. no. Just no.

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