A Weekend in November

We woke up Saturday morning and knew that we were sick. We weren't sick yet, but we were going to be very soon. And, if the winter illnesses which have felled those around us are an indicator, it may be awhile before we heal.

So, we made the most of a fine fall day. It was cool but sunny to start and ended almost warm. We started out at the local amusement park where we treated the boys to their favorite kiddie rides.

Waiting in line for the Log Ride.

Then we headed across the street to the zoo where we watch giraffes and flamingos and the boys drank sugar water out of pink bottles shaped like dinosaurs. We all had a great time.

Sunday was different. We stayed home. Well, the children stayed home. They played in the yard a bit. Watched Sleeping Beauty. I had to go out and stockpile provisions for the impending plague. But the weather could not have been nicer.

Sunday dinner was neither elaborate nor elegantly served (yes those are brussel sprouts on paper plates, but it was hot and on the table at half past five. The whole family gathered around our simple feast. I had to take this picture. They are all there, sitting up, at the table, using utensils. They have grown so fast, and even though they have many years to grow, I wanted to capture this second before it was gone.

May you all have a nice week with the little ones gathered around if you have them.

Men Are the New Women? What Would the Old Women Say?

I read an article in the paper recently. The headline was, "Men in the ‘mirdle': New underwear designs are putting the squeeze on men's midsections"

I shall quote. “When it comes to underwear, men are the new women. Guys are experimenting with color and styles. In fact, bucking a dismal retail trend, men's underwear sales are up. And -- get this -- men are starting to discover 'body shapers' to smooth their love handles, lift their posteriors and knock off a few pounds without dieting. In short, men are discovering the benefits of the male equivalent of Spanx.”

No, no, no, no. Is this supposed to be some kind of equality? This is wrong. It must stop. Our fore-mothers did not want this. They wanted the vote. They wanted equal pay for equal work. They did not want men in "mantyhose."

A Birthday Party

In honor of the baby's birthday we had a big "to do".

As with most events planned for babies, this one was more for the grown ups who wanted to get together and bask in her cuteness (and/or eat our food, drink our beer, enjoy each other's company) than it was for the baby. There was a bounce house, but even that was for the grown ups, and certainly not for the baby. It gave the bigger kids something to do while we were hanging out with other grown ups.

The baby got a house full of love, a day full of cuddles, and a cupcake. Well, and presents, but it's not even about the presents to a wee one like her.


It was a clear November afternoon with all the family we could squeeze into our small house spilling out into the yard. Even Grandma (my mother-in-law) flew in for the weekend. Though others were missed (one aunt and one soon-to-be-uncle in particular) we were blessed indeed.

I served four different kinds of soup, with four different kinds of bread. A great idea for a Fall feast if one has enough bowls and spoons, which I do not, but Nana, the best mother in the world, was happy to bring all she had. I've done this before, by the way. Offered soup to more people than I had bowl. But I think I have learned my lesson. In the future, I will put BYOB - Bring Your Own Bowl (and spoon, BYOBS?) on the invitations.

Dessert was birthday cupcakes, also provided by Nana. (What would I do with out her?) She and Jonah baked them from scratch -- chocolate and vanilla with chocolate and pink frosting(Yes, I know that pink is not a flavor.) and sprinkles.

All in all, I think it was a great day. I don't really know how everyone else felt about it because I was so busy. I barely sat down. I only got the half of a bowl of soup from last at the bottom of the pot. But, everyone looked like they were enjoying themselves. And I got many compliments on the soup. Thanks to all of you. The most commented upon recipe is found in the previous post.

The guests, the soup, the bread, the cupcakes, even the dirty dishes are gone now, but we remain warm and happy and loved here.

This is Samuel the next morning, having his breakfast cereal among the clean and borrowed remains of the party.

BYOB Chicken Noodle Soup

The biggest hit at our Bring Your Own Bowl Soup Party was this almost embarrassingly easy Chicken Noodle Soup

Olive Oil
Onion, one small, diced
Celery, 2 stalks, diced
Green bell pepper, half, diced
Carrot, 1 medium, sliced
Other vegetables you may need to use up
Chicken Broth, 32 ounces
Poultry Seasoning, 2 tsp
Egg Noodles, 8 ounces
Chicken, cooked, as much or as little as you have around, up to 2 cups.
Cream of Chicken Soup, 1 can
Cream of Celery Soup, 1 can

Coat bottom of soup pan with olive oil. Saute vegetables about 3 minutes over medium heat. Add broth and poultry seasoning. Swanson's Organic Chicken Broth is the best tasting. I have tried them all. And no they are not paying me. Bring to boil. Reduce to simmer for about 10 minutes. Return to boil and add noodles. Cook as directed on package, usually 7-10 minutes. Trader Joe's sells an 8 ounce package of specialty egg noodles that is exceptional in this soup. They are not paying me either. Add chicken, and creamed soups, until heated through and creamy. Enjoy.

Precious Littleness

Catherine is my only girl. My youngest, my last. My baby. She turned one this week. Thus ends the shortest year of my life.

This is in contrast to my first year of motherhood. Jonah was a difficult baby. I was an unprepared and overwhelmed mother. That was the longest year of my life.

This last year has been different. Cate is easy and I have more knowledge, experience, and confidence as a mother. It has gone by in a blink of her cute hazel eyes.

I have been aware for some weeks that this anniversary was upon us. Not just in the linear, counting off 365 days sort of way, but mindful of the transient and irreversible. Catherine has changed so much. She is big and walking. Her precious littleness is wearing off. Oh, she is still precious, and still relatively little, but she is growing up and away from me everyday.

I can't help lingering over her, especially at bed time. I feel her warmth through her pajamas. The weight of her in my arms. The smell of her hair. Tonight, it was her hands. So soft. (They have never washed a dish.) Long fingers with dimpled knuckles. Tiny, tiny nails. I let her fall asleep on my chest. She's taken to doing that one or two nights a week. She cuddles in with her head tucked in under my chin. Our breath rising and falling together. Five minutes of heaven. Then she rousts herself, raises her head, and I know it is time to put her down. I know I must.

Health Care in Utopia

I want to live in a town/state/country/world where everyone has access to a free quality education and free quality health care. But, the reality is education and health care aren't free. And the government can't run anything of quality.

Every time the government takes a dollar from Peter to pay Paul, Peter is out a dollar and Paul only gets thirty-seven cents. The transaction costs are astronomical.

I have depressed myself. I'm going now.

Halloween, Another Boy's Life Lesson

My son Samuel just turned three. This is his first Halloween of any consequence.

Samuel does not talk much, so we are never sure what he "gets" and what he doesn't. But, they must have been teaching him about Halloween at pre-school because he came home last Thursday (the 29th and his last day of school that week) with a small paper bag stapled closed. He carried that bag, still stapled, around the house saying "trick of trick ... trick or trick." Finally, he brought me the bag and said, "bag off." Off, on, open, close ... interchangeable to him.

I opened the bag to find two lolly pops and a plastic spider. (The teacher might tell you that she also put a "fun sized" Three Muskateer bar in there, but I will deny to my dying day that I ever ate, er, saw it.) "Lolly pop ... lolly pop." He had learned another new word. So, I unwrapped the lolly pop and gave it to him. He did not eat it of course. He carried it around the house. "Trick or trick ... trick or trick." It was sweet. Then mildly amusing. Then I was easily distracted by some bit of housework.



"Hey, Mommy." Sam had learned a new trick (or trick). The old lolly pop in the ear gag. Silly boy.

He dressed as a cowboy this year. We took him to Trick-or-Trunk at Jonah's school. He was very cute. He had a trick-or-trick and a thank you for every trunk. Then he looked around, saw the costumes, realized the grown-ups had lost their minds, and was ready to go home. We got him out of there just in the nick of time. He was about to lose it.



When the day itself arrived, he was very excited to get back in his cowboy costume. We made a brief stop at a party hosted by Abby, the best babysitter in the world. We got there early. The crowd was not huge. There were cupcakes and treats. Sam glanced around in a daze. It takes him awhile to decide if he is going to like a new situation, but this was a new level of uncertainty. He didn't even eat his treat. Though he may be saving it for later. There is still a nutter-butter covered in white chocolate and decorated to look like a ghost (with one bite missing) somewhere in our garage.

The next day, when he got up, he had a lot to say (very rare for him) and it went like this...

Get up. Get up, get dressed. Get dressed, cowboy. Get dressed, cowboy, Abby. Cowboy, Abby, cupcake. Cupcake. Cupcake. Cowboy, Abby, cupcake.

Poor kid. He's only three. What cold I say to him by way of explanation? Too little, too late. That ship has sailed. Next time, seize the day, live in the moment, get with the program while the program is still on. Three year olds don't speak cliche. There was nothing I could say. So, I gave him a hug and a kiss, and another lolly pop to stick in his ear.