Scrumptious Scones

I've recently become addicted to scones. I never used to like them...not sweet enough for my taste. I was always a sugary cereal or donut eater in the morning. As I've gotten older my tastes have changed.

So far, my favorite is Alterra's blueberry scone. It has the perfect blend of blueberries with a hint of lemon. It's not too doughy and is crumbly. The best part about it is that it is extremely filling and satisfying.

This morning I decided to try my hand at making my own scones...cherry chocolate chip. Not a bad first effort, but I'm going to try a different recipe next time. I want to see if I can replicate the Alterra one.

I've also been inspired by my sister-in-law who created these amazing hats for the girls for Christmas. She said she learned to knit by watching videos on the internet. I was thinking of looking into a class, but this sounds like a more economical appproach so I've decided to give it a try. My other sister-in-law also knits so I've got someone locally who can help me when I get stuck. I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Mini Doses of Joy

I've always loved Christmas. I love the music, the shopping, the decorations, everything. Last year's Christmas kinda sucked because of the ice damming and subsequent water pouring in through the ceiling. It really dampened my spirit.

This year, I'm really trying to amp it up. I want to savor the wonderful little things. Last night while watching Conan O'Brien, he had a segment on called Mini-Dose of Joy. If this doesn't put a smile on your chocolate covered face...I don't know what will.

Then today, amongst our holiday card offerings in the mail was an unexpected greeting from a new friend we made this summer on our trip to New York. He is our sister-in-law's nephew who lives in New Jersey and he sent us this handmade card:

I think that's what I've always loved most about Christmas. Not necessarily the big things, but the mini doses of joy. Happy Holidays!

Christmas Done Come Early!

Thanks to my mother-in-law and father-in-law's generosity, I am now the proud owner of my very own sewing machine. It's pretty amazing...I mean it even threads the needle for you. A huge plus to anyone over 40 who needs readers.

I was fortunate enough to get it before Christmas so I could finish my niece's present...a bee t-shirt. It's obvious that some practice and lessons are in order, but the good thing is that the design itself lends to an elementary stitch. I actually like the rudimentary look.

Realizing that a one-sided piece of flat fabric may be easier to work with, I tried my hand at the one thing I've been threatening to create...the hand towel. So here it is in all it's glory:

Project Runway...here I come.

Answer to Puzzle Master post: Jerry and Sherry

Puzzle Master

My husband is not the easiest person to buy gifts for. He's very particular and after a while, I get tired of going the safe route...socks and sweaters. This year, St. Nick and I stumbled upon a gift that surprisingly hit the mark.

While wandering through Restoration Hardware, I was intrigued by their display of stocking stuffers and retro gifts. One box caught my eye when I saw the name Will Shortz on it. I remembered riding in the car coming back from a weekend in Chicago and we were listening to NPR. Will Shortz was on with his weekly puzzle. I'm pretty sure I didn't have a clue, but I knew my husband was listening intently and trying to figure it out.

So I took a chance and bought it for his St. Nick stocking. When he opened it at first, I didn't think he liked. I don't think he thought he liked it either. But we sat down and looked at the first puzzle. My son was with us and the three of us tried to figure it out. It was my 10 year old son who got the answer first.

Think of a common boy's name starting with "J".
Change the "J" to "SH" and you'll get a common girl's name.
What names are these?*

Since then, my son wants to do a couple each night after dinner. What's been great is that sometimes we individually solve them, and sometimes we work together. Sometimes we cheat and look at the answers. Isn't it funny how once you hear the answer, it all of a sudden seems so obvious?

*Answer revealed in next post.

Putting An End To This Chapter

I've always said that what makes my marriage work is that we balance each other out. Friday night was another example. I left my daughter in her room to cry herself to sleep after revealing the hoax which is Santa. My husband went upstairs to say goodnight and told her that it is a really grown-up secret to know the truth about Santa. He said that she had to be really careful because her brother and her cousin (who are both older) still believed in Santa and it was very important that she not tell them what she knows. She agreed that she did not want them to feel how she was feeling and in the end, being in on the secret was a pretty good place to be.

Saint Nick visited our house last night. It's always exciting to see what is hiding in your stocking. I was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and she came in and whispered to me, "Thank you for the pajamas and the slippers." I gave her a big hug. What a relief! It's good to know that everything is okay.

Dear Ms. Blume, Thanks for ruining my Christmas.

Well it's over. My daughter is in bed in tears saying over and over, "I wish I never knew." Thank you Judy Blume. On the eve of St. Nick and exactly 20 days away from Christmas Eve. I had to come clean with my daughter. I could no longer avoid it when she angrily begged me to tell her if Santa was real.

In addition, I'm not sure where her older brother stands on the whole thing and neither does she. Apparently they have not discussed it.

I guess the thing that makes me the most upset is that she found out from a book that was assigned in school. I know I read it, but it's been years and I certainly did not remember the part where Santa was outed.

In the end, I'm not sure who has been most traumatized by this whole experience. I guess only time will tell.

Car Wash

We've all done it. Misunderstood the words to a song, but belted it out unknowingly until someone (usually laughing hysterically) calls you out on it.

Most recently my son did it. To his credit, it was an old Kansas song so how was he to know? It was during a State Farm commercial with Point of No Return playing. Instead of how long he thought they were saying car wash. I mean the guy is in a car and all.

My biggest guffaw came while I was dating my husband. I will preface this by saying that I rarely paid too close of attention to the lyrics. I was always drawn to a song by the music. (The Violent Femmes may be the exception to that rule.) I remember exactly when it happened. We were crossing the Hoan bridge and Waterloo by Abba was on. I actually thought they were singing wannadoo. I mean I was so oblivious that I didn't even know the title of the damn song. My husband corrected me and married me anyway.

Now I will rat out some of my friends. You know who you are:
R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A. (by John Mellencamp) = Our little secret in the U.S.A.
When Smokey sings, I hear violins (by ABC) = When smoke gets in, I hear fire engines
Smoke on the water (by Deep Purple) = Go tell Walter

No need to be ashamed. You're in good company.

Random Thoughts

I realized that I have neglected my blogging this month. Too many Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations. Today I'm home with two sick children so I thought I would mention a couple of things in no specific order.

First of all, we had our children's conferences at school last week. One thing that struck me as sort of funny...I got the same comment from my daughter's third grade teacher in regards to her writing as I have made about many of Jodi Picoult's books. She spends a lot of time on the beginning and middle developing the story and then hurries through the ending.

Second, during my daughter's last bought of illness, her aunt was kind enough to drop off a gift for her. A Calvin and Hobbes collection. I used to have the same exact book and had forgotton how funny it is. It still holds up. My daugther is loving it. What is interesting is that my son had a hard time understanding it. When I explained that Hobbes is Calvin's stuffed animal and that when no one is around he comes to life. My son wanted to know if he really came to life. I explained he does in Calvin's imagination. I'm still not sure if he understands it.

Yesterday my daughter asked me if Santa is real. We have been struggling with this concept for some time now. I'm getting the feeling she's not quite ready to except the truth. I asked her what she thought. She's not sure, but a in a book she's reading for school, Superfudge, one of the characters makes mention that there is no Santa Claus. (On a sidenote: Damn you Judy Blume! Just one of the many mysteries she may be uncovering for my daugther over the next few years. No wonder my mom didn't want me to read Forever.) So I asked her if there was no Santa, who she thought brought the presents. She said, "You" but then I think she quickly wished she hadn't. I wonder if she's worried that if I thought she thought there was no Santa, he would stop coming. That's pretty much where the conversation stopped.

This is a hard transition for us all. It's a difficult act to keep up. The older they get, the more you feel like you're being really dishonest with them. What I consider an ideal situation at this point would be that the kids knew the truth, would not be completely devastated by it (e.g. Aunt Sue) and continue to enjoy the excitement of waking up on Christmas morning to the surprises under the tree...no matter who brings them.

Giving Thanks

This lovable bird was created by my daughter in pre-school
and consists of her foot and hand prints. How great is this!?

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. What I love about this holiday is that even though there's anticipation and a big build up, I don't have this huge feeling of let down when it's over.

This year was a year of firsts for us. It is the first year my in-laws hosted Thanksgiving on the Sunday before. It was so successful that I think it left us wondering why we didn't think of it sooner. Having only one home to go to on Thanksgiving freed my husband and I up to actually do the cooking, so it was the first year that I made a turkey. We prepared all the food and had the Thanksgiving feast with my family at my parent's house. Since my in-laws were now free, they joined us. This is the first Thanksgiving Day that my mother and mother-in law didn't have to cook.

This is the first year since my kids were born that we were able to participate in the after dinner family game. We played a game called Dictionary (similar to the board game Balderdash). My kids love this game and we had a lot of laughs.

All in all, it was a wonderful Thanksgiving and I am so thankful for the people in my life who I was able to share this holiday with.

Can You Believe They Even Make That? Volume 2

I'm sure there are those of you out there who are laughing at my joy in the discovery of HeatnBond. I'm sure it has been around for a long time. For me, it is yet another invention which has prolonged my absolute need of a sewing machine (which as a side note, I still really want for Christmas this year...hint hint.)

Let me tell you how I stumbled upon this gem. I recently bought the latest book by Angry Chicken blogger Amy Karol called Bend the Rules with Fabric. And she has some projects for which HeatnBond is a necessary supply.

Last week I went to a planning meeting at our school for High Interest Day. It is an annual event run by the PTA in which the kids can sign up and attend short little workshops. They were looking for new ideas and I thought the kids could make appliques and decorate shirts. The idea was met with much enthusiasm, so I decided I better make sure it would work.

I purchased some t-shirts at Old Navy, a packet of HeatnBond, and some fabric. Here are the fruits of my labor...

Floral appliques created from floral fabric.
This is the front of the shirt.

This is the back tag.

For this applique I created a pattern
from a piece of penguin clip art.
It's three separate pieces of fabric
(black, white, and orange) with
black button eyes. Guess who's getting
it for Christmas?!

I'm so excited to do more. If I had a sewing machine I would go around and sew the edges which gives another look. Tired of receiving purses and scarves from me for presents? I see a lot of hand towels and t-shirts in my gift giving future!

All Hallows Eve

Another successful Halloween has come and gone here in Wauwatosa. My daughter dressed as a Titanic survivor. It was one of those costumes that took a little explaining, but she came up with it all on her own and that's half the fun of it. Plus, I was pleased that it beat out her first choice which was a "popular girl". I can't even begin to imagine what that would have looked like.

2008 monkey costume

My son had a difficult time deciding because he knew it would be hard to top last years monkey costume. So this year he came up with a twist on the classic. He decided to be a circus monkey with cymbals and all. The best part about the costume was how he and his dad figured out a way to use it to get more candy. Once he felt the candy drop in his bag he would crash his cymbals like mad. Most people confused this as his way of saying thank you until his friend Andrew (dressed as a Klement's Polish Sausage Racer) would tell them that it meant he wanted more candy. Needless to say, he brought in quite a haul.

2009 monkey costume

In order to decorate our house this year, my daughter made halloween masks and costumes for many of her stuffed toys. They all lined the mantle and were the funniest thing I have ever seen.

masked menagerie on the mantle

Now most of you who know my daughter know of her love of penguins and she has quite a collection of them. However, her first and real true love is the doll her grandparents brought back from France when she was only months old. Her commercially given name is Becassine but we refer to her simply as Baby. For whatever reason my daughter bonded with that doll from the get go. When we look back and photos and video, she is never far away. I became concerned that if something ever happened to her we would be in real trouble, so the next time my in-laws went to France I asked them to get another doll...exactly the same so we would have a back-up.

We introduced the new doll into the mix and even though my daughter was very young, she knew the difference. Eventually she would come to be known as Friend. And would never serve as a replacement for Baby. To this day Friend remains as pristine as the day we got her.

Baby and Friend

As constant companion, Baby has become very worn. As amateur seamstress, I have tried to mend her as best I can and have quietly referred to her now as FrankenBecassine. While Baby always holds a place of honor in bed with my daughter at night, I often find Friend in the bottom of the stuffed animal basket.

This favoritism has carried through to the Halloween costumes created this year. While Baby was crowned the Prom Queen, Friend looked something like the Unknown Comic with a white mask with holes punched out for the eyes.

Baby and Friend

All the stuffed toys have since taken their places back in my daughter's room and today I am packing away all the other decorations and monkey costume until next year. How will we ever top the circus monkey and the prom queen?

Sorry!

I'm the youngest of four. Pretty trusting. A bit gullible. Just wanting to be loved.

Back when I was little (I'm not sure how old, but younger than 8) I was playing the game Sorry with my brother and sister (7 years older and 6 years older respectively.) I picked the Sorry card and was just about ready to play it when my sister presented a deal. If I did not use the Sorry card on her, the next time she picked a Sorry card, she would not use it on me. We didn't shake on it, but there was a verbal agreement.

I didn't see it coming, but of course, she picked the card and played it on me. I pleaded with her reminding her of our deal. Instead of responding with, "Oh, that's right, my mistake" they both laughed and mockingly said "Soorryyyy!"

As I was browsing on the internet I came upon this great piece of art that pretty much sums up the whole experience...

LOL

O.K., I know I already did a blog today, but I couldn't not pass this one along (compliments of Natalie Dee.) I don't know if it's because my son and I have been eating Ricola like Tic Tacs this last week, but this shit is funny!

My husband thinks I need to get a life. I say there's more to humor than Monty Python...so there.

Meet Rocky

I think that the creator of Rocky the squirrel really got it right with his depiction of this little creature that, in real life, you love to hate.

After our recent trip to the pumpkin patch, I thoughtfully arranged little fall displays in the yard. My husband begged the question...how long until the squirrels start eating the pumpkins? The answer...less than 24 hours. However, they have been kind enough to concentrate all their efforts on one pumpkin, leaving the other two alone (so far.)

I admire their blase attitude towards me as if we have been old friends for so long. Today I pulled the car into the driveway to find Rocky the squirrel on top of my pumpkin snacking away. I got out of the car, went into the house, got my camera, and proceeded to take pictures of him and he was not the least bit phased by my presence.

So here he is...our very own Rocky the squirrel. I didn't even bother to name the pumpkin.

Nose Warmers and Toilet Paper Cozys

I just finished reading a pretty good book, The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs. The main character starts her own business in NY knitting garments on commission and eventually opens a yarn and knitting shop. As a young girl she is taught to knit by her Grandmother in Scotland.

This is how I remember my Grandma

It reminded me of my Grandmother. German, not Scottish...Milwaukee, not Scotland...crochet, not knitting. I remember asking her to teach me. She tried, but I was too young and then it just never occurred to us to try it again. I regret that.

I also regret that I never kept one of the nose warmers she made. If you think the concept is ridiculous, that's nothing compared to what it actually looked like. And yet, there's many a time sitting in my extremely cold office, working on my computer, by myself, that I secretly wish I had one of those again.

Not my kid. Not my Grandma's nose warmer.
But you get the general idea.

What I do still have is one of her toilet paper cozys. If you thought the nose warmer was unnecessary........

My toilet. My Grandma's cozy.
You get the general idea.

And yet, I love it. It reminds me of her and the stuffed animals she used to make for us. She'd stuff them with old pantyhose that had runs. (A time when recycling was about saving money, not the environment.)

So I'm inspired. I want to learn how knit. Or crochet. Or both.

Traditions and Uncle Stevie

Last night our family was invited to some friend's house for a very enjoyable dinner. We were talking about how their church has a monthly get together for families. I've heard a lot about it from others I know who attend the same church and for the most part it seems to be met with a lot of grumbling. However, last night, my friend said what she really likes about it is that it sort of forces them to talk about things as a family that they otherwise would not.

The example she gave was that they asked them each to write down what their favorite family tradition was. She loved hearing what her kids had to say because she was surprised at their answers.

One of my favorite traditions for our family is to go to the apple orchard and pumpkin patch. The last couple of years we have been going to Barthel's Fruit Farm out in the country. It's a really great drive that takes us through a quaint little town with a beautiful old church/cemetary, hardware store, and two taverns. You drive your car right out to the orchard and pick your apples. Then you drive to the pumpkin patch and spend time finding just the right ones to bring home and display in the yard.

What's funny about pumpkins is that there always seems to be one that fits your personality. This year, we found a great one for Uncle Stevie...the king of the moon.


We've returned home, left the muddy shoes on the back porch, and are settling in for an afternoon of football and lounging. Later I will make one of my mother-in-law's apple bake recipes to have for dessert. The perfect finish to the perfect fall day.

Quote of the Day

The fourth graders at McKinley Elementary have their recorders! We know because as the children were dismissed on Monday, parents on the playground were greeted with the beautiful sound of recorders approaching en masse.

My son has been faithfully practicing his recorder since Monday. His father and I are very proud.

This morning I made him get dressed, brush his teeth, and make his bed before he could play. The quote of the day came after he finished all his chores and began to practice the one song he knows. He said to his sister, "That's what it sounds like when you play it out of breath."

The Start of Something New

I've finally figured out something about myself. Others may have known this all along but never told me. I love new beginnings.

I love the beginning of each season and tire of them as they go on. Right now we are entering fall. I just cleaned the yard and got rid of all the dead summer plants. Tomorrow I will hit the West Allis farmer's market in search of mums, pumpkins, and gourds to brighten up the outside.

Is there anything more exciting than shopping for a new season of fashion? Putting away all the clothes you have been wearing for the past several months to start wearing something different. Even if the items are not new, but rather those which have been waiting patiently in your closet for their renewal. If you haven't worn them for awhile, it feels like welcoming an old friend home.

As each season progresses, however, I loose my enthusiasm and become anxious for the next new beginning.

My next craft...cute kitchen towels

I love beginning a new craft. Researching it, designing it, figuring out how to approach it, buying the materials, and completing it. After a while though, I like to move on to a different project.

I love the beginning of a vacation. Planning, packing, getting to the destination, settling in. By the end I'm always ready to come home and dread the trip back.

As much as I love the start of something new, there is something to be said for the feeling of safety and security that comes from that which is familiar. And I love that just as much.

In a Flash

The older I get, the more I realize I'm getting older. When I listen to the radio or look through magazines, there's a whole new crop of singers, bands, and actors that I don't know. I'm not familiar with their music, their shows, or their movies.

The other night I sat down to watch the recording of Oprah's kick-off to her 24th season. I had heard she blocked off part of Michigan Avenue to have a concert, but really hadn't heard much more. When I saw that the Black Eyed Peas were performing I was a little more excited. They are one of those groups you think you kind-of like until you look at your iTunes library and realize you must really like them because you've got a bunch of their music.

So they were the first performers on, and to Oprah's surprise and mine, they had coordinated about 800 fans in the crowd to do a choreographed dance to their new song I Gotta Feeling. Since I knew nothing about it, it was really cool to watch unfold. If you haven't seen it yet, see for yourself. (Although I have to say...it looked better on our high def t.v., but you'll get the idea.)

Here's where my aging comes in again. Apparently this is called a flashmob. It's when a large group of people assemble suddenly in a public place, perform an unusual action for a brief time, and then disperse. By its own name and definition it is something that comes and goes quickly. Had I not seen this episode of Oprah, it is quite possible that I would have lived my entire life not ever knowing what a flashmob was.

The more I think about it...I'm okay with that.

He's Just Not That Into You

I realized today that I missed the second episode of Glee earlier this week. Thanks to Hulu I was able to catch the whole thing on my computer. I don't know exactly what it is, but I really like this show. Maybe it's because I'm far enough removed from high school that I can appreciate the uncomfortableness without it affecting me anymore.

Which brings me to a very interesting revelation that my sister-in-law laid on me a couple of weeks ago. Her middle-school age son broke up with his first girlfriend. She talked about it with him afterwards and found out he may not have been very nice about the break-up. Probing further, he divulged that he needed to be callus in order to protect himself. He didn't want to cry in front of his girlfriend...so he made her cry instead.

Wow! If I had only had this nugget back in the day. It's like the Sex and the City episode where Burger lets Miranda know that when a guy has no follow through...he's just not that into you. The whole concept was spun off into a successful movie.

If my nephew could parlay this revelation into some sort of Hollywood script, maybe it would make the heartbreak worth it. But then again...maybe not.

I Wonder, I Wonder

As much as I make fun of my mother's sex talk (or in my case lack there of), I've realized that I may not be much of an improvement to my kids.

When I was younger my mother just left the I Wonder, I Wonder book out for me and told me to let her know if I had any questions. You'd think having older brothers and a sister some information would have trickled down to me, but that wasn't the case either. I don't think I ever actually read the book...just looked at the pictures.

So I don't know that I am very well equipped to talk about it with my kids. They always seem to spring it on me when I least expect it. Like today riding in the car on the way home. My daughter asked me how people get babies anyway. As I paused to collect my thoughts and quickly try to muster a response, my son chimed in, "They pray for them." God bless him.

Can You Believe They Even Make That?

I've said it before and I'll say it again...I LOVE kid art! I'm always looking for new ways to use it. Thanks to my friend and fellow blogger, Becky (Heart Biscuit) who turned me on to another blogger, Amy Karol (Angry Chicken). Amy has published two books and has a real homespun approach to living. In theory I love this, but in actuality, it always seems like a lot of work. I think I'm somewhere in between the two.

Recently she was on her local morning show to present some projects from her latest book. One of them was dolls using photos of family members. You may be asking yourself, "How on earth does she do that?" Hold on to your socks...did you know they make printable fabric? I know, just when you thought everything was already invented you get a great little surprise like this. I'm telling you, it's amazing and I was able to find it at a Michael's craft store.

You may be wondering how exactly it works. Let me explain. It's fabric that has a backing on it so you can put it through your color printer. Once you've printed your art, you take the backing off and it's just a piece of fabric ready to sew. The possibilities seem endless!

My niece is a very talented artist and did this cute drawing of her dog Mo. She loves purses and my husband had a sample of a canvas messenger bag. I scanned in her artwork, added a background, and made this cute tag which I hand sewed onto the front of the bag.

Then I took the same art plus a couple penguins my daughter did and made some stuffed dolls. I just used some fabric remnants for the back and sewed by hand again. (Note to family...gift idea...sewing machine!)

I've gushed enough about printable fabric. I need to gush more about the Angry Chicken blog. Did you know that you can make your own brown sugar? I did not. Apparently you just mix granulated sugar and molasses. Good to know. Check it out...it's one of the top 5 blogs in the stratosphere.

New York, New York

Well, it's been three weeks since our trip to New York and I guess I'm ready to talk about it. I feel like we packed so much into such a short time that I don't even know where to begin.

First of all, I must address our morning in Central Park. It is truly a wonder to find this amazing play land nestled in the midst of the city. I love this picture which is a great example of how the two coexist.

There were areas with rocks for climbing, swings and slides, a zoo, a pond with remote control boats...and oh yes, this crazy gold person (who we think was a woman) who sat silently on a park bench and tried to entice the young children over to her. So even in the serene park, the madness of the city seeps in every now and again.

It could not have been a more perfect day. It was sunny, warm (but not hot or humid), and there was a pleasant breeze. These two pictures were sent to me by my new sister-in-law and are among my favorite. They candidly capture our family and are the perfect reminder of our day in Central Park.

Later that evening we had the rehearsal dinner at Cercle Rouge and the food was delicious. The other delicious tidbit to come out of the night was my new family ranking. According to Chinese tradition, the wife of the first born son holds a position of higher rank than that any of the daughters. For those of you who know my sister-in-laws, you can imagine how well this went over. I figure it may be in my best interest to stick with the status quo.

I cannot write this without talking about the Buddhist Wedding Ceremony. It was my first, so I looked to the bride's family to lead me through it. (I found out later that this may have been a mistake on my part. Afterwards the bride's uncle told me it was his first Buddhist Wedding Ceremony too.) So when the abbess asked us to join our palms, I acted on instinct and immediately went into Catholic mode. I reached over and grabbed my husband's hand. Then I looked around and realized no one else was holding hands. Apparently joining palms meant putting your own two together. Had she said, "Let us pray" I would have got it.

The ceremony was really interesting. The abbess did most of it in Chinese and it was then translated into English. She talked about the stages of marriage. What was really impressive was that she was not only talking to the couple being married, but her words really addressed those of us who were already married as well.

It goes without saying that the bride was beautiful. I can't decide which I wanted more...the red silk dress or the red satin shoes.

After the wedding we were on to Ocean Jewels for my first Chinese banquet (13 courses I believe...but I lost count!) I discovered that I don't necessarily hate seafood. What I hate is what passes for seafood here in Milwaukee. I've never seen so much food come out so quickly, with such beautiful presentation, and still hot. It was a wonderful experience.

Now we're back home and it seems like an eternity since we were in New York. I've been looking through all the pictures and reflecting on our trip. As far as family vacations go, it will be difficult to top.

My Perfect Ten (year old)

Homemade birthday pie (Door County cherry)
baked with love by my mother-in-law

One week ago today, my son turned 10. I can hardly believe how quickly ten years has passed. There's so much nostalgia with your first born. You remember everything so vividly because it's all happening to you for the first time. Or maybe it's just because I almost gave birth on a boat during my dad's surprise 65th birthday party cocktail cruise. Either way, I found the whole experience to be rather surreal.

This week my son marked his tenth birthday with a wellness visit at the doctor on Monday. He is in the tenth percentile for both height and weight. As a mom it's really difficult to let your kids grow up...so having a child who is small for his age doesn't help.

What does help is when you have moments that reinforce your little person is becoming a decent human being. Mine came on Tuesday.

Let me back up a minute. My kids have a choice for their birthdays. They can have a small party with 3 friends and keep the gifts or they can have a large party and donate the gifts. My son always chooses the large party...an annual baseball game at the school playground. This year his charity was the Ronald McDonald House.

Tuesday we delivered all the donated items. The people at the Ronald McDonald House were so pleased and I think a bit surprised that a young man would forgo his birthday gifts. I was incredibly proud of him.

Having said that, he didn't go without presents completely. He was showered with gifts from our family which he got to keep. He informed me that it was his best birthday ever. Apparently the cash and gift cards he received this year were much more desirable than the sweatpants and bedding he received last year.

The birthday week came to an end yesterday when he played golf with his dad and his grandpa. It was his first time playing nine holes on a real golf course (not a par 3). He got to try out his new hybrid golf club which was his birthday present from his grandparents. My dad got a birthday present of sorts as well. He shot a 47 and beat his grandson and son-in-law.

We Put the Error in Air Travel

The older I get, the more anxiety I have about flying. In order to get through it and remain sane, I think you need to a bit of a sense of humor about it all.

Now we usually fly Midwest Airlines because it's always been convenient. However, our last couple of experiences with them have been so bad that I'm considering taking legal action to force them to drop their Best Care In The Air slogan on the basis that it's a flat out lie. And while I do enjoy a couple of warm chocolate chip cookies as I'm flying through the clouds, it's no longer enough to hang their hat on.

Here's the basic gist of our latest excursion. I successfully printed out three of the four boarding passes needed from home the night before our flight. When I called the airlines to find out why I couldn't print the last one I was told it was because of security reasons. So we arrived at the airport early the next morning and stood in line to get the boarding pass. My husband knew we were in trouble when we got up to the counter and the ticketing agent said, "What do you want?" We explained that we needed my husband's boarding pass which after much confusion she finally printed out. Later we were to find out that it was for the same seat they had already assigned my father-in-law. So much for security.

Speaking of security, that was the next line we waited in. Nothing too out of the ordinary there...although I do feel strange about walking barefoot through the detector. Once you we got past security and gathered all our belongings, there was a little area set aside to get reorganized. In Milwaukee, there is a special name for this area with a sign and everything...it's called the Recombobulation Area.

The thing that struck me as so hysterical about this is that it actually is incredibly appropriately named and everything leading up to that point can be aptly referred to as the Discombobulation Area.

Once we got all recombobulated we moved on to our gate. While I was sitting there waiting, I pulled out my new earplugs that are supposed to help alleviate the discomfort of landing. Being that it was the first time I was to use them, I decided to read the instructions on the back. Here's a little game for you...see if you can find the four errors in the instructions.

In all fairness, the flight was smooth and on time. It set the tone for the rest of the weekend in New York which flew by (pun intended).

Hit The Spot

As legend would have it (or as my parents tell it), when my mom and dad were a young couple they would go to Kenosha on the weekends to visit my mother's parents. Kenosha was and still is home to The Spot Drive-In, a classic burger joint...and my family loved what they were offering. So their weekend visits always included a stop at The Spot.

It was all well and good until Lent rolled around. Being good Catholics, they would have to abstain from the burgers on Friday...well almost. My dad and grandpa would stay up until the clock struck midnight, make a quick run to the drive-in, and bring back a bag full of burgers for the four of them to devour. They were that good.

Eventually my grandparents moved away, but the desire for those burgers remained. One year at Thanksgiving my grandpa was having problems swallowing his dinner. He was diagnosed with esophogial cancer and everytime he had to eat some pureed something or other he would say, "I can't wait until I'm better. The first thing I'm going to eat is a Spot hamburger." In the end, the cancer got the best of him and he never did get his last burger. Well...sort of.

My grandparents are buried in Kenosha so our family began a tradition. We meet out at the cemetary with blankets, chairs, coolers, and a bag full of Spot bugers and have a picnic on their gravesites. Some years we're large in number...sometimes small. Some years it's just those of us locally...some years we have relatives from Arizona, Minnesota, and New Hampshire. But everytime we go we enjoy talking about old times and sharing the new.

Yesterday was the first time we've gone in several years and the headstones showed our lack of attention. We sat around in a circle and ate our lunch and then the little ones played catch and hide and seek. My dad scattered some burger crumbs on my grandfather's grave and my aunt commented on how this may be the last time we do this. My aunt may be right, but I also think that as long as there is a Spot Drive-In in Kenosha, there will be picnics in the cemetary. The burgers are still that good.

Start Spreading The News

I've just come in from out of doors where I have been laying in the sun for the better part of two hours trying to even out the horrible farmer's tan I got last weekend. The reason...three words...New York City baby! (Ooops, that's four.) I've got me a great looking new halter dress that's dying to make the trip so I'm trying to work a little magic. The only problem is I'm absolutely bored to tears laying out there and all I can think about is what I still need to do this week to get ready to leave.

The entire family on my husband's side is going to NYC for my brother-in-law's wedding celebration. We've had our tickets since March and now that we're in the home stretch, I'm really starting to get excited.

I've been to New York several other times and my goal has always been to have some great star sighting. Once while my husband and I were there visiting my brother-in-law, I spoke to David Byrne of the Talking Heads while we were waiting for a table at Pearl. Every mix tape I made in the later part of the 80's included Once in a Lifetime...so this was a huge score for me. Only problem was my brain didn't process who it was until our short exchange had concluded and he rode away on his bike. It still counts.

While I'd still like to have a decent star sighting this trip, I have two new goals (not in any particular order.) Number one, I would love to catch a ride in the Cash Cab. My only fear here is that I would freeze and not only look like an idiot, but get kicked out short of my destination. Ideally, if I could pick my dream team among the people I'm traveling with, it would include my husband, his brother, his cousin, and his mother. I think between the four of them and given a long enough ride, they could win enough to buy the first round at the rehearsal dinner.

Second, I would love to be photographed and appear in Bill Cunningham's on the Street video commentary on the New York Times website. I can't imagine what fashion statement I would be making while in town to warrant it. I'm banking on his next piece being what kids in NYC are wearing and I'll get in some shot walking next to my daughter or niece. Fingers crossed on that one.

But in the end, this trip isn't really about me anyway. It's about spending time with my family, meeting my new sister-in-law's family, and celebrating the the coming together of the two.

Save Paper from Extinction

On my walk this morning I saw a man delivering newspapers. It got me to thinking about how much things have changed. I can still remember when Milwaukee had a morning and evening paper. Who can forget the Journal's Green Sheet...home to the daily comics. Remember when paper routes were for young kids on their bikes? When was the last time you saw a kid delivering a newspaper?

As much as I appreciate technology and all the conveniences it brings, there's still a part of me that feels I'm being pulled into it with both heels firmly planted. For instance, I don't understand reading the paper on the computer. When my brother told me he wasn't buying books anymore because he's going to read them on Kindle...it made me a bit sad. Call me old-fashioned or maybe I'm just more tactile, but there's something about paper that I love.

It goes beyond newspapers, magazines, and books...it's greeting cards and letters as well. Believe me, I'm the first to raise a stink about the cost of cards (if you've received a card from me...this explains why they're homemade), but there's still an excitement about receiving mail that's not junk or a bill. While I have seen some pretty funny e-cards...it just isn't the same. Everytime I walk into a store that sells stationery or decorative paper, I feel like I'm drawn to it.

Now I know that using a bunch of paper also raises environmental issues. I'm no expert, but I would guess paper is easier to recycle than computers. Since most computers seem to be outdated or peter out in about three to four years, this can become a real problem.

So until the phrase, "Curling up with a good Kindle" catches on...I guess I'll just stick to all things paper.

What it Means to Win

This week my son went to Marquette University's basketball camp. The last day of camp they hold a tournament and have a bunch of different skills contests. Among over 200 campers, my son made it into the finals of the slam dunk contest. This meant that he would have to come up with two different dunks to do in front of the entire camp and all the families that come to watch in the Al McGuire Center on campus.

We were all so excited for him and we talked about it at dinner and again after showers. He worked out his first dunk with his dad. He had come up with a really creative routine and felt good about it. When it came time to go to bed, he didn't have a second dunk figured out so he had a hard time falling asleep. We decided when he got up in the morning he would go on the internet and do some research on his second dunk and that seemed to ease his mind so he could finally go to bed.

Successfully (by 6 a.m. I might add) he had figured out what he was going to do. As we were getting ready to leave a little later that morning, he told me that he wasn't feeling so good. We decided it was nerves and as soon as he got to camp and started playing again, it would help to settle him down.

So it came time for the dunk contest. I was there along with my daughter, my husband, my husband's parents, and a slew of other families who came to watch their children at camp. When it was my son's turn I was so nervous for him. He got up, put his mesh jersey over his face, had his coach turn him around in a circle over and over, he acted as if he was dizzy and weaved over to the group of youngest campers, regained his composure, high-fived a little guy, and then proceeded to do his dunk (shirt still over his face), and the ball went in! Everyone cheered and the judges gave him all 10's. I was proud and relieved.

In the end, it came down to a dunk-off between my son and another boy. He had to come up with a third dunk on the fly. Unfortunately, my son did not have the higher score.

The next morning my mother-in-law called me. They were still talking about their grandson, his crazy dunk, and how impressed they were with how well the camp was run. She asked me if he was disappointed he didn't win. In all honesty, I'm sure he was at first. Who doesn't want to win? But I think he got over it pretty quickly and when it was all said and done, he may have been just as relieved that it was finally over.

I think that my son has played sports enough to know that you win some and you lose some. He just really wants to play. It's what he loves to do. And in the end he knows that there's always another game.

So did my son get to play in the consolation game? No. Did he get to play in the championship game? No. Did he win any trophies or awards? No. Did my son go into the last day of camp and, despite his nerves, get up in front of a large crowd and do something a bit out of his comfort zone? Yes. Did he have fun and do a great job? Yes. Did he make his family proud? Yes. Will he go to camp again next year...you bet.

Baseball Chatter

There's a great scene in the movie Bull Durham where the catcher goes to the mound to talk to the pitcher. Pretty soon several of the players and a coach join in and the conversation, while centered on baseball, hits on some other issues.

I remember my sister-in-law telling me that some of the best talks she had with her son were while they were playing catch.

So there must be something about the rhythm and the pace of baseball that's conducive to discussion. I witnessed it first hand last night at my son's baseball game. It amazed me what a bunch of 9 and 10 year old boys were talking about while they were throwing the ball around during warm-ups.

They hit on all the current events (or should I say...deaths). They talked about Michael Jackson complete with the speculation that drugs were the cause of death. Steve McNair being shot to death. Even Billy Mays made the conversation...which as a sidenote I think is telling of this generation. A t.v. pitchman as celebrity.

I think my sister-in-law had the right idea. If you want to get into the head of a young man, get out your glove and ball and have a catch.

To Wit, Twitter

I will preface this blog by stating that I have never twittered or tweeted or whatever it's called. As a matter-of-fact, I just visited their website to make sure that what I believed I thought about twitter was true.

After watching the video "Twitter in Plain English" my question was answered. The premise behind twitter is that people really want to know what other people are doing...all the time. It's being sold as a way to stay connected between e-mails and blogs. I was not aware that my friends and acquaintances cared that I was making a cup of coffee, clipping my toenails, or reading the obituaries.

Call me old school, but if I'm going to divulge such personal things, I'm surely not going to do it in writing, and I'm definitely not going to put it out on the internet for anyone to read. I'll stick to long phone conversations, leisurely lunches, having dinner with a group of friends once a month, and chatting (in person) on the playground.

For any of you who enjoy twitter...right now I'm typing. Now I just blinked. I just uncrossed my leg. I just blinked again. Ooops, typo...I just hit the delete key. Staring blankly and thinking. Wondering if I'm offending anyone. Going to make a pot of coffee.

Don't you feel connected?

Fifty Years

Yesterday my parents celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary...on their actual anniversary. We had a big party with family and friends traveling from all over the United States. It was a wonderful night.

As a gift to my parents, my brother and his wife had two actors perform a dialogue written especially for the occasion by a playwright. It was funny, insightful, and touching. Something they said really spoke to what I feel made my parents marriage last all these years and what I strive for in my own,

Success in marriage does not come merely through finding the right mate, but through being the right mate.

If you asked my parents what makes a good marriage, I think they would answer simply, commitment. Eleven years ago my dad had heart surgery. While we were all gathered in the waiting room my mom had his wedding ring in her hand. She said it was the first time he'd ever taken it off. In 40 years of marriage his wedding ring never left his finger.

Another line in last night's performance really sums up commitment,

One advantage of marriage is that, when you fall out of love with him...or he falls out of love with you, it keeps you together until you fall back in again. A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.

There are definitely times in a marriage when you don't like the other person very much. When you get through those, you find moments you are so filled with love you can't imagine feeling any other way.

Like when my daughter steals away into the kitchen late at night and my husband doesn't send her back to bed right away as I would...he sits with her, feeds her a little snack, and talks with her about baseball, the bible, or "Fiddler on the Roof". When, after a conversation with our son riding home in the car, he stays up and looks in a reference book for the answer to the question they've been discussing and leaves the book on the breakfast table awaiting our son in the morning. Or after a hectic couple of weeks, he knows that a little break on a Sunday afternoon is just what I need to regenerate, so he takes the kids golfing and makes dinner.

For me, it's not the big gestures that make me love my husband or make our marriage work. It's the small moments. The times when he probably doesn't even know I'm watching that I fall in love with him over and over again. It's those moments which, over time, accumulate to a make a marriage that lasts fifty years.

Balance

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am on a constant quest to improve my lifestyle...which is another way of saying I try all kinds of diets. Here's the thing – I don't like to exercise and I LOVE all things sweet. I want to eat what I want, when I want, and as much as I want with no consequences. The problem with all these diets is that they say it's a lifestyle change. I get that...I just don't like the lifestyles that they are selling.

Recently I've begun to read my latest lifestyle book French Women Don't Get Fat. This is actually a lifestyle I dream of having. (Afterall, I am one quarter French – although it's the one half German that I seem to struggle with.) I wish I lived in a Parisian village where I could walk or bike everywhere. I long for fresh produce stands and patisseries on every corner. If I had a yard to plant nut trees and extensive gardens and had the means for a gardener, it would already be done. I want to sit and have a leisurely meal and take my time tasting and enjoying every bite. But most of all, I wish I could enjoy a glass or two of wine with my dinner and not have a complete sinus attack.

As with all my other books, I'm giving this one a try. I've been getting up in the mornings and going on walks, which I actually really love doing this time of year. It gives me a chance to clear my head and get the day off to an early start. On one of my walks this last week it finally struck me what all these lifestyle books do have in common. It's really a matter of finding balance in your life. You'd think that as a wife and a mother I'd already have this down – the old juggling analogy. But that's the thing about balance...it's a constant battle to reach equilibrium.