Just Say No

I was reading through the headlines on iGoogle (woohoo, love iGoogle), when I encountered this article. It left me shaking my head at our society.

Parents want toy companies to stop marketing products at children. Not because of any of the myriad reasons sociologists and psychologist have suggested marketing for children should not happen. No. These parents want toy companies to stop marketing to children because it makes the children want things the families cannot afford to buy them this year.

Ooooookay.

It is time the parents in the US pony up to their responsibilities. It is okay to say No to our children. It is okay to teach them to budget and prioritize. It is okay for our kids to have different things or fewer things or handmade things. Voluntary simplicity is okay. Even better, turn off the bloody TV and prevent the kids from seeing the ads in the first place. Spend the time playing card games or putting together tomorrow's dinner together (since too many families claim to be too busy to cook). Stop the recreational shopping so that the kids are not faced with all the "I wants" in the stores. Spend the weekends playing at the park or getting together with friends or gardening or doing the housework and the homework.

Toy companies market the way that they do because it works. Well, if we as parents in this country start to say No, the toy company marketing strategies will no longer work.

That will get the toy companies to change their marketing much more quickly than any letter writing campaign asking.

Food so Fast...

So Jimmy Johns opened in town recently. Luis ordered lunch from there a while back and he said it was so fast, he freaked. Really.

Then on Wednesday he ordered again while I was in the office. Being the snot that I am, I set a stopwatch on the computer to time it. I started the timer as soon as he finished the telephone conversation, stopped it when they walked in the door. 7 minutes, 56 second. Pretty darn good, but not freak worthy considering it was after 1 pm.

Then today I was in the office for a little bit right about noon, and two others were ordering Jimmy Johns. Luis walked in a few minutes after they ordered, and decided he wanted something too. The receptionist mentioned that my friends over at our local independent place, Garden Deli, had stopped in to remind everyone that they have always delivered to the Downtown area even though everyone seems to forget about that.

You know me. I told Luis he should order from Garden Deli. He spent a minute checking out the menu. He called over the order. By this point, it had been about 10 minutes since the Jimmy Johns order was phoned in.

Guess which order arrived first?

Yep, the Garden Deli one. It was so fast, Luis freaked again, and to be honest so did I. He paid, started eating, said bye to me and the kids. We left to go home for our lunch.

Still no sign of Jimmy Johns. Score one for the little guy.

Luis always enjoys going over to Garden Deli to pick up lunch, but had been calling Jimmy Johns because that delivery was mighty convenient. I am thinking Garden Deli has him back as a customer for good.

Our mini mes.

Those apples do not fall far from the trees.

When we entertain, I handle the making of the food. I love to cook and bake. That is probably no shock to anyone who reads this on a regular basis. Luis, on the other hand, is about presentation. He is the one fanning the crackers on the plate and putting the shrimp just so.

The girls, they are me. They start planning food gifts weeks in advance, and they both know already what they want to contribute to our Thanksgiving table.

I just realized that Vincent is Luis. How I missed this before, I am not sure. I realized it today when he decided to get himself cheese for a snack. He cut it all into tiny squares, arranged the squares in a circle on a plate and stuck a toothpick in each square. Then he put a circle of plantain chips in the middle of the cheese circle. In the very center of it all, he placed one gingersnap. That was his snack.

Oh that boy is his father's son.

Sleep, my baby

I have noticed over the years that how old my child looks is directly related to the angle I am facing him/her from and whether said child is awake or asleep.

They all look so small, so fragile when sleeping. The curve of the eyelashes on the cheek is so precious, and each has a different sleeping personality that never leaves as they grow from baby to child. Abigail is still likely to be flailed across the bed with a leg sticking over the side. Isabella is still usually curled up on her side. Vincent sleeps at an angle like I do, slashed across the bed. Simon likes to be on his back with his shoulders out of the blankets.

As I was snuggling with Simon the other morning, he appeared so tiny he compared to how I normally see him. At that angle, glancing down on his face from behind, I did not see the round cheeks and the big forehead. I saw the elfin chin, the hint of his cheekbones, the bitty nose. It made him appear so much smaller than the toddler who runs gleefully around. For a few minutes, I had my little baby in my arms again.

Then he woke up, rolled over, tackled me, and the toddler was back.

Join Hands and Sing Kumbaya

As much as I love the internet, I despise it sometimes too. It is such an imperfect medium. Face to face or telephone conversations have a degree of personal intimacy and immediacy that the online world lacks. For all that we feel close to each other online, the online world and the online conversations lack tone, expression. People have made do with emoticons and acronyms to help bridge this gap, but it cannot ever be fully spanned in my opinion.

Being in person or on the telephone allows for a focus and an immediacy in our interactions that online does not. Message boards and emails let us zap off quick thoughts when our time allows, but it also allows for conversations to drag for hours and for misunderstanding to blossom. Even chat does not have the same feeling of a real conversation. It is an egotistical medium. As I chat, I focus on my screen and my words. I focus more on my words than on the words of my friend.

The internet has allowed me to become friends with people I never would have met. It has allowed me to stay connected to or reconnect with old friends. I have learned much and grown towards becoming the parent and the person I want to be because of the online world.

And yet...

All I want is peace. I want some way to bridge the two worlds, the real and the virtual. I know that I try to present an honest picture of who and what I am in my online communications, and I take everyone at face value. I do this in real life too; it drives Luis nuts, but I digress. I wish that small hurts did not need to be magnified by the failings of online communication. I wish that people did not feel so cocooned by the failings of internet communication to say hurtful things they would never say in real life.

This post probably makes no sense to some reading it and perfect sense to others. That is okay. I just needed to write tonight about this.

All I want is peace. Join hands with me and sing Kumbaya, dear friends. Then we'll make s'mores.

Just be careful because those homemade marshmallows are wicked hot when you roast them, and I know from experience that they can burn the beejeebees out of you. Let us bring peace and harmony to the real world and the online world. Hey, while we are at it, let us try to heal the divide that politics has wrought in our nation too.

We interrupt this blog

We interrupt this blog for the following special program



Watch it. Please.

I'll return to our regularly scheduled programing of food, photos and family after next week's election. I promise.

Help me understand this

I was reading some political stuff tonight when I was hit by a question that I really have never seen anyone ask or answer before.

Why, in the US, it is considered an employer's responsibility to provide health insurance?

Can anyone explain this for me? So many are questioning in our society whether or not universal health care is socialist, but I would really like to know why health insurance falls into the benefits employers are supposed to provide. Disability insurance I could understand, but health insurance? Does it stem from the fact that a healthy employee is a more productive one? I wonder why it got started because it seems to be a rather silly way to doing things given job turnover and changing economic landscapes.

If Anton and Bethany Gibson (John and Jane Doe is just too boring) get laid off from a company that has HIJ health insurance and hired somewhere with QRS insurance, one insurance company has to do the administrative work to remove them from the rolls, send out letters of prior insurance and whatnot and the other company has to do the work to add them to the insured roster, send out cards and whatnot. Care providers have to spend extra time and money updating insurance information. It seems to be an added layer of duplicated administration that is just wasting money and resources.

Who came up with this system? Do we as Americans really think this is the best we can do? I do not understand why it is considered such a good system of insurance or such a good idea given the changing nature of the workforce in the US. We do not spend our entire careers with one or two companies any more. The average US worker changes jobs rather frequently, meaning we change health insurance rather frequently too, if the new employer even offers it.

Tradition

It is almost time to turn the calendar page to November, and the weather took a dramatic turn today from brisk autumnal splendor to the chill and damp of pre-winter. That got my mind looking ahead to Thanksgiving.

I host a gathering every Thanksgiving of family and friends. It is not that large, about 20 people give or take every year, but it nice. We have hosted at our house for a number of years now, and already traditions have started to become set in stone. My mother-in-law bring morros y christianos. My mother makes grandma's stuffing recipe. Luis' brother brings baklava. I serve apple and pumpkin pies with fresh vanilla whipped cream.

As I have been browsing the latest issue of Gourmet this week, I keep looking at their four Thanksgiving dinner menus. Wouldn't the Roasted Potatoes and Shallots taste good? Look at the Carrot Fennel soup. The Sage and Leek Stuffing sounds really good. Mmmm, a poached pear tart.

What would happen if I took mashed potatoes off the menu and substituted the roasted potatoes or a parsnip puree? Could I experiment with the Pumpkin Tart with Anise Crust without a mutiny on my hands? How offended would my mother be if I suggested trying a different stuffing just one year?

I realized tonight that in these few short years, the menu has become stuck in a tradition that I cannot bend too much without upsetting the others. Even the mere suggestion that I might not make the sacred red Jello with whipped topping was enough to get Luis grumbling. Mess with his mashed potatoes? Yeah, right.

I guess I am just stuck reading about these feasts of foods I will never get to serve at my Thanksgiving table.

I wonder if Grandma ever felt this way?

I am going to ask my aunt to bring her broccoli salad instead of yam dish because I found a recipe for Parmesan Roasted Squash that I will try instead. I think that the yams are something I can mess with without people complaining too much, and I love the crunch of her salad to balance all the soft textured foods. Maybe I can change the green beans from the the creamy dish to a sauteed version with bacon and chestnuts without too much fuss? I love the creamy version, but I need a little bit of change this year.

Look out tradition; I am going give your pedestal a tiny shake this fall.

{{{ insert name here }}}

In the online world, we dole out virtual hugs with liberality. What is different about real life? Many shy away from physical contact in the real world today. Hugs and embraces are reserved, somehow, for children and lovers.

Yet a greeting from a friend or even an acquaintance that includes a generous hug or quick embrace brightness the day for me. Just today, the hug hello of a friend's mother walking by was a spot of sunshine on a cloudy day. There is the squeeze of a hand of an older person greeting or farewell or just while sitting and talking. Put an arm around the shoulder, even for a moment, of a friend who looks down.

All of these things are the creation of emotion and memory for me. I can still remember sitting and just holding my grandmother's hand or the endearing way she would embrace my hand between both of hers as we parted after my weekly visits to her. I can tell you who I hugged hello at the last event we attended at the Piazza, but I cannot tell you what I ate there, and I go there as much for the wonderful food as anything else.

As strange as it feels for me to say this - me, someone who easily gets touched out after a decade of small children climbing on her and tugging at her - there is not enough touch in our society today.

We all know babies need skin to skin contact, need touch. So do adults.

Why?

Why does a toddler put glue in his hair?

Why are two muffins in the pan always darker than the rest?

Why is universal public education a right, but universal public health insurance is socialism?

Why does mama always eat the burnt piece of bacon?

Why is the bed with the folded laundry on it more fun to bounce on than any other bed?

Why it is human nature to always look forward to what is coming next instead of enjoying what is happening right now?

Why is it okay for the state to mandate the Christian version of marriage being between a man and a woman, but allow still divorce, the antithesis of Christian marriage?

Why is there never a sharp pencil in the house?

Why can I never find a nail clippers even though we own three pair?

Why do I cut it so close to the freeze date every year before pulling out my tomatoes?

Why do tomatoes ripen so well in the house even when picked totally green?

Why does coffee smell nothing like it tastes?

Why am I sitting in the office on a lovely fall day?

Eavesdropping

Have you ever sat and read random blogs? It is people watching and eavesdropping rolled together.

While doing a search in Google, one link took me to a blog post about Elinore and Andrew's trip to India. I have no clue who Elinore and Andrew may be, but Elinore writes an interesting blog post. I just wasted ten minutes reading about their adventures traveling in India on a modest budget.

PSA - It is important to remember that anyone could be reading our blogs. Nothing online is private. It you would not say something at the Thanksgiving dinner table or to your friends at a party, do not type it out online. You never know who could be eavesdropping.

Never too big

No matter how big our children grow, they really never change. They are always our babies.

Vincent was sick yesterday. He woke with a bad headache and by mid-afternoon was full out sick. I spent more time holding him and cuddling yesterday than he had let me do all summer long. Just like his toddler self, all he wanted to do was lay on top of me. He is better today, so I am settling for quick hugs and his fishy lipped kisses, but I know my snuggly little boy is still there.

As for Abigail, my great big girl is thrilled to bits by her new footie pajamas. At the moment, my youngest and oldest are laying here in fleece footie jammies, and it warms my heart. Closing my eyes, I can still see the toddler she was nine years ago, snuggled up asleep in the red jammies with navy stars her brother now wears as he sleeps next to her. Nine years from now, will he wear the green jammies with St Bernards on them?

Randomness

Friday afternoon randomness:

~ When a man is wearing a shirt and tie, he needs to leave the baseball cap at home. There are many types of hats; pick something more appropriate please.

~ The E button on my keyboard is not working well today, and it is driving me bonkers.

~ I love the fact that if there is something on TV that I really, really want to see (like last night's debate), I can find it online now. That is one of the best internet advances of the last few years. I do like listening to the Daily Show while working out. Jon Stewart is da bomb.

~ Speaking of working out, I want to join the Y again. Simon is older, and I could leave him with Luis to go workout. I love using the Precor there and zoning out for 30 minutes. I can use the Nordic Track at home, but then I worry about bonking Simon with it while he walks around. If I try to workout while he naps, it is guaranteed that he will wake up 15 minutes into it.

~ I want a fountain pen again. I had one in college that I loved, but misplaced it my junior year and never replaced it. I do like the way the ink flows on paper when writing with a fountain pen, so contemplative.

~ Do not buy Hershey's anymore. They are no longer putting cocoa butter in their chocolate, turning it from milk chocolate to simply chocolate candy. Inferior product. Stupid idea.

~ So, I watched the debate. Loved Biden. Was happy Palin did not have any gaffes. It was an interesting performance by both of them. Would someone please tell her to lay off the folksy shtick, though? Gotcha, betcha, winking at the camera. These are inappropriate for the national political arena. Cut the crap and tell me what you believe, Palin. I believe there is a fairly good politician under all of that acting, so please let her out. Also, oh boy, you could tell when Biden was annoyed. That giant smile and all the scratching his neck. I wanted to tell him to stop fidgeting.

~ Coco Lopez is bleeping addictive. A spoonful into my cafe con leche is so very good. Too bad it probably has like 500 calories per tablespoon. I swear I could eat the entire can.

Winds of change

Seasonal change is in the air today. A cool wind blows, caressing us with the crisp scent of fall. Leaves are starting to scuttle on the sidewalk, and the carrots are ready to harvest.

Welcome, Professor Wind!

October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came -
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
~George Cooper, "October's Party"

Late night musings

Sometimes I worry that things are getting lost in the shuffle of life. Am I doing the best that I can? Am I giving each child what he or she needs? Am I missing something big or something little that will become big?

Being a parent is stressful. What if I mess up? What little incident will the kids look back on with fondness or with horror twenty or thirty years from now?

We all do the best we can with what we know at the time. I know this. But am I doing my best?

The late night worries of a mother...

Isn't that Special?

I heard an interesting little ditty on NPR this morning while driving to the city. They played a snippet of a the question session at the end of a recent McCain rally. One woman spoke up with a comment for the media, not the candidate. She said (and I quote because I just listened to it again on the Morning Edition webcast) "We want the media to start doing their job and stop picking on little children because of their age and their pregnancies. Shame on you! Shame on all of you!", said to a ringing round of applause and catcalls from the audience (she starts talking at 1:50).

Oh. Really?

So it is no one's business who gets pregnant how and at what age except for the kid in question and the kid's parents, eh?

Tell that to all the teen moms that have been vilified by the Religious Right, the media and the Republican party for a couple of decades now.

Wait, those wicked teen moms made the mistake of not being privileged white kids of respected parents.

Hypocrites. Shame on you. Shame on all of you.

Reason #8976 I love my area

While at Cheese Days today, we stopped in at the Hospitality Tent to watch locally renowned chef Wave Kasprzak give a food demonstration. Wave is the chef and one of the owners of the four star The Dining Room at 209 Main in itty bitty nearby Monticello, a destination restaurant if there ever was one.

He was preparing Tomato Blue Cheese Bruschetta. I never thought about blue cheese on bruschetta, must give that a try some day. He also made canapes with leeks and prosciutto. The leek mixture smelled heavenly. As he was cooking and giving out the ingredients, he said that recipe sheets would be available at the end.

Then he stopped a second and told us he was not very good with recipes, that he did not use them often. So, he said, if anyone had any question, just give him a call. He would be happy to help.

I love it.

26 or even 28 please

Just a couple more hours in the day would be very helpful. That is all.

For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work.
~Doug Larson

Different Like Me

Isabella has some Big Issues going on, has for years, but it came to a head this year and we are getting her some help that she needs for her anxiety and other things. Unfortunately, she has been resistive at home to implementing some of the things we have been told to try for her sensory issues and her anxiety.

I cannot believe it took me until today to figure out the reason why. She had wanted the help, she has reacted positively right after the conversations with the therapists, she tells me they help when we do them, yet other times at home, she resists these completely. Well, except for the one strategy that has her earning a Really Cool Reward. That one she is all about doing.

Today, as she said that she did not want to implement a visual coping strategy if her friend came over, it hit me. She does not want to feel different, to have her peers realize what she is coping with. A few quiet questions confirmed this.

What could I say? She is different, but everyone has differences. We talked a little about what makes her different, what makes her siblings different, what makes me different, but still it didn't help much because they were not, as she said, "different like me". Today, more than any other day in my parenting career, I was thankful for the amazing community of parents I have known online in the last decade and their openness in sharing their lives and the lives of their children over the years. I was able to tell her about children who have the same issues she does or even more severe ones. Being able to talk about real people with real names was concrete and helped so much more than the abstract "there are lots of people with this."

Still, it breaks my heart to watch her struggle.

I just wish I could wrap her up and kiss it better like a skinned knee or stubbed toe.

Att-i-ca, Att-i-ca

Please help keep my husband out of jail!

Luis is getting locked up on September 30 in support of the Muscular Dystrophy Association. He needs to raise his bail of $1300 in donations, and luckily they give him advance time to get started.

If you can help, please visit Luis' Lock Up page. As much fun as it would be to tease him mercilessly for having to make phone calls asking for help while behind bars, it is a great cause and he hopes to raise more than he needs before the 30th.

Oh, even if he does raise enough bail, he still gets locked up for an hour or two! I promise to post pictures for all supporters.