I am on the fence about the whole daycare/pre-school thing. We found a pre-school that has a mom's morning out, with a once a week morning for kids younger than two. Oo! We said. And forgot about it. Saw it again at my church this fall. Oo! I said! Emailed about a visit to tour the program. It was fun. And there's a progressive series of pre-school programs as the children age up. Oo! I said. And promptly lost the application.
My misgivings are many, no fault of the program, really.
Will this child get up early enough for the 9:30 am start time? Sometimes she sleeps until 10.
If we get in, do we really want her to spend more and more time there? Do we have the option of fewer days, no we do not.
There are many other things going on that same morning. Storytime at the library. Tumbling at the sportsplex. Time with Mommy.
And what about the cost? It's not so pricey as programs go, but what would she get out of it that is worth that price? Who are we doing this for - her or me?
And on and on.
So I haven't sent in the application.
But, but, it's a great play-based program! It would be good for her to have more group interactions away from Mommy! And it would be fun! And give me more time to myself, maybe.
I'm realizing that I am jealous of my time with my daughter. I am lucky enough to be able to stay home with her. I'm finding I don't want to give her up.
For maybe one morning this year I could give her up, maybe, but there's that progression of time and money, and where do we stop? Maybe that's an artificial barrier, but I fear, somehow, that she will be inextricably drawn away from me, and next thing you know, she's gone five mornings a week, then off to kindy. I want my baby time! I want all of her childhood. It's too soon. Isn't this where someone is supposed to remark how growing up is harder on the parents than on the child?
Face it, missy. You do not want to give up any time with her. It's true. So until I convince myself otherwise, I am relishing every bit of baby-and-childhood I can get.
--
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
I couldn't go to sleep last night, but still somehow never got around to writing anything.
I had been busy all day catching up with lots of big and little jobs. Everything from mixing up yet another batch of cookie dough to cleaning out a box for craft supplies, to airing out the tent. To watering the plants, to cleaning out the cars, to putting away the little girls books and toys that pile up in drifts, to giving the cat his injection, to confirming plans with my cousins. To clipping coupons, to wiping noses, to washing/drying/folding/putting away yet another load of laundry, to feeding myself a late night snack of toast and tea while reading on my latest library book so that I could settle down enough to sleep.
I get like this sometimes: full of vigor and focused purpose. It's the lists, probably, and eating well, all those vitamins in the green leafy things, and the threat of my time cut short - getting ready for a trip while waiting for the contractor to show up - can you say a leetle tense? Maybe not so much tense as motivated!
Items still on my lists:
Wait! wait! There's more! Wait! Come back!
Oh, never mind. You get the idea. :)
With a toddler around, everything takes longer. No wonder I have a hard time going to sleep - even after she's down, I want to cram in as much as I can! The lists help me keep everything on track.
But really, I need my sleep. As much as I am motivated about tackling things left undone, I need to toddle off to bed. At least I wrote a little tonight.
Tootle-oo!
--
I had been busy all day catching up with lots of big and little jobs. Everything from mixing up yet another batch of cookie dough to cleaning out a box for craft supplies, to airing out the tent. To watering the plants, to cleaning out the cars, to putting away the little girls books and toys that pile up in drifts, to giving the cat his injection, to confirming plans with my cousins. To clipping coupons, to wiping noses, to washing/drying/folding/putting away yet another load of laundry, to feeding myself a late night snack of toast and tea while reading on my latest library book so that I could settle down enough to sleep.
I get like this sometimes: full of vigor and focused purpose. It's the lists, probably, and eating well, all those vitamins in the green leafy things, and the threat of my time cut short - getting ready for a trip while waiting for the contractor to show up - can you say a leetle tense? Maybe not so much tense as motivated!
Items still on my lists:
Clear kitchen counter for contractor (load dishwasher, wash plastic lids, finish making that batch of cookies)
Work on my next program (coming up this weekend, lots to arrange and think about)
Call bank (they've reset my password without telling me and how can I transfer money to pay the contractor without knowing my current balance?)
Write bills (this is easy enough when I do it as I go along)
Email the yardwork guys (I have high hopes, but it may wait until after Thanksgiving)
Cut felt for the Advent calendar (I am behind, but I need a bit of space to work)
Mail chocolate to my friend in the middle of a stressful move (It's in the package, needs stamps)
Cut back the lantana (This monstrosity takes over my front garden bed every Summer, but it's pretty and the butterflies and occasional hummingbird likes it. But then it stinks and gets all hard-thorny if I wait too long)
Call/email the maternal support program at the local health center. (I have boxes and boxes of clothes to pass on to them)
Finish photobook (I have a good deal, but I have to finish it before the end of the week! Yeek!)
Send my sister her birthday card/present
Write check for the cat sitters
Deliver key to the cat sitters
Return library books before we leave town!
Deliver the old-time music CD to a caller friend (good prep for her next gig)
Start packing
Follow up on the energy retrofit (We are on to the second round of forms and applications - yay for tax credits!)
Wash the kitchen floor (it always needs it)
And...
Wait! wait! There's more! Wait! Come back!
Oh, never mind. You get the idea. :)
With a toddler around, everything takes longer. No wonder I have a hard time going to sleep - even after she's down, I want to cram in as much as I can! The lists help me keep everything on track.
But really, I need my sleep. As much as I am motivated about tackling things left undone, I need to toddle off to bed. At least I wrote a little tonight.
Tootle-oo!
--
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Potage Melange of Autumn
On Saturdays, I like to cook. The day stretches out leisurely before me, with hours to spend. I neaten a table, put away stranded items, put in another load of laundry, polish the door, put away socks, papers, and junk mail, and think of food.
Some weeks we go to the local Farmer's Market, with rows of stalls all selling something of specialty. Baked goods - bread, tarts, pies - and flowers, fused glass jewelry, beautifully polished bowls of locally salvaged wood, seeds and produce - fifteen small farmers organic or not, selling seasonal food bursting with the colors and health as the season intended. It's too late for tomatoes, but there's grain fed beef, braising greens, bok choy, and white turnips with greens intact. Turnips!
It's fall, and the root vegetables are calling me. I contemplate a hearty plate of roasted roots. Or perhaps sauteed? Or a stew? Perhaps roasted, and then stewed, then chunked into a mosaic. Yes.
I pick potatoes and carrots, of course, and then a bunch of turnips, of course, and a few parsnips because they are supposed to be yummy in this sort of combination of course. Onions and garlic and plenty of salt and pepper. Roasted with olive oil, then sauteed in butter, and melted into softness, mashed or spun into flecks, a whole family of flavors in every bite.
On a cold but sunny autumn day, this potage sticks to the ribs, mortar against the windy bite. It's fall. So let's fall to it.
--
Some weeks we go to the local Farmer's Market, with rows of stalls all selling something of specialty. Baked goods - bread, tarts, pies - and flowers, fused glass jewelry, beautifully polished bowls of locally salvaged wood, seeds and produce - fifteen small farmers organic or not, selling seasonal food bursting with the colors and health as the season intended. It's too late for tomatoes, but there's grain fed beef, braising greens, bok choy, and white turnips with greens intact. Turnips!
It's fall, and the root vegetables are calling me. I contemplate a hearty plate of roasted roots. Or perhaps sauteed? Or a stew? Perhaps roasted, and then stewed, then chunked into a mosaic. Yes.
I pick potatoes and carrots, of course, and then a bunch of turnips, of course, and a few parsnips because they are supposed to be yummy in this sort of combination of course. Onions and garlic and plenty of salt and pepper. Roasted with olive oil, then sauteed in butter, and melted into softness, mashed or spun into flecks, a whole family of flavors in every bite.
On a cold but sunny autumn day, this potage sticks to the ribs, mortar against the windy bite. It's fall. So let's fall to it.
--
Friday, November 12, 2010
Welcome Generosity
It was a windy day, the sun flashing brilliantly from behind intermittent clouds that raced across the sky. Up on the Gap, day trippers roamed over the short-cropped grass, heaving themselves step over step up the slope, between scrubby shrubbery that clung to the steep hillside.
And ponies! There were ponies up on the ridge. The appreciated the occasional carrot or apple.
Our packs, a familiar heft, rode on bruised hips. After several days on the trail, they fit into the hollows and over the bones as if molded to us. We had made it down the rock pile of a trail from the higher peak, treacherous for the unaware foot or ankle.
Easing our way down over the gap, we took the familiar gravel fork towards the parking lot, down down to the fence line, and through the gate. The gate swung closed behind us. No ponies allowed near the road.
The green lawn spread out before us, the picnic area dotted with fantastically twisted branches mottled white and gray. We found a likely pause and eased off the packs. We swigged water and looked about us. People scattered across the park at various states of leisure or strolling progress. We hadn't planned to come out at this spot, as pretty as it was, but it was convenient, the closest outlet within a couple days hike for an emergency stop.
Who should we ask? Someone who looked friendly. Someone with a larger car. One couple nodded to us as they passed us on the way to their SUV still breathing hard from their hike. We'd passed them further up the trail. Them, I thought. I paused, letting them settle in. They took some time stowing their gear. I approached, looking as winsome and non threatening as possible.
"Excuse me, ma'am. I was wondering if you all could possibly give us a ride into Damascus. We've been on the trail all week, and our stove just broke! We need to get into town so we can get another stove at the outfitters. I was wondering if you all could you possibly help us out? We just need a ride."
The woman closed her face, unwilling to say yes or no. "Don!" She called to her husband. "What do you think? This lady says she needs a ride."
"Me and my husband, both." My husband nodded and tried to look non-threatening.
"Where are you all going?" The man squinted at me.
"Damascus," I told him. "Me and my husband" (here I nodded in DH's direction) "started from there last week. We had the bad luck of our camp stove breaking, so we need to get to the outfitters to have it fixed, but we're stuck out here without a ride. Would you happen to be heading in that direction?" I was giving him an easy out.
The man looked at us for a moment. "I think we could go that way." He eyed our packs. "Those should fit in back."
"Oh, thank you so much! We really appreciate it! I thought we'd be stuck here forever." I am miss light and easy. No pressure, no other requests. DH nods and says, "Thanks a lot." "No problem," the man says, but the woman looks as if she regrets giving her husband the final say.
We stowed the packs in silence.
"Where are you folks from? You don't sound like you are from hereabouts."
"Oh, we're from ____, North Carolina."
"North Carolina, huh?"
"Yup. We enjoy coming up here every year. Some years we just hike and camp. This year, we were more ambitious and are hiking a loop around the area."
I was still trying to be friendly. No, we are not weird people. We're just like you. Too late; we already look alien. Boots! Packs! Slightly stinky layers. And what sane person carried twenty five to forty pounds all over tarnation for the fun of it?
The drive takes a good thirty minutes on the twisty roads, the same distance it's taken us more than three days to cover on the trail. It's strange to be moving so quickly over the ground. It's a unsettled jarring of time and place. Why did we just cover all that ground on foot?
We chat about the metal roofs we see on houses, the state of the weather this Summer, our jobs. I am still trying to convince them that we are ordinary folks. But backpacking along a trail is already too strange.
"Do you all need to stop for any supplies?"
"No, we're pretty well set. We just need to get our stove fixed."
"You have everything you need in those packs, huh?"
"Yup, pretty much."
The woman picks up a Wendy's cup from the cup holder. She shakes the ice in the cup and slurps loudly. She shakes the ice again even more vigorously as if scolding us. I almost snort at her disapproving expression. Ma'am, you can keep your ice. We are not your social inferiors. Except somehow we are. Having to ask for help makes us inferior to the people who are always within easy reach of their cars.
They let us out half a block away from the outdoor outfitters store. "Do you need any help with that?" This time barely sincere. "No thanks, I've got it!" We swing the weight of the packs out easily. Once more, the packs are slung over our backs, this time for just a short jaunt up the street. We don't have any small bills to offer the couple in thanks, so I settle for a little philosophizing. "We really appreciate the ride. Thank you. It was a big help. I'll pass along the favor to someone else next time I get a chance." The woman's face is twisted into something almost a sneer. Ahh, screw it, lady. We nod at them and head straight for the store, relieved to be on the ground again.
At the outfitters, they tell us that a new part would take a week to come in, but that, amazingly, the camp stove is still under some kind of "forever" manufacturers warranty. They suggest that they give us another one just like it from their stock, and they'll return ours and get reimbursed. For the second time in one day, we are grateful of a stranger's generosity, but this time, it feels welcoming.
We are punchy with tiredness - it is now late afternoon. We devour a large pizza for dinner and head back over to our favorite backpackers haven. They'll shuttle us back to the gap later. But for now, we crash. The rooms are small cinderblock rooms with thin carpet, but they seem like luxury to us. A hot shower and we fall into bed, to return to the trail the next day.
--
And ponies! There were ponies up on the ridge. The appreciated the occasional carrot or apple.
Our packs, a familiar heft, rode on bruised hips. After several days on the trail, they fit into the hollows and over the bones as if molded to us. We had made it down the rock pile of a trail from the higher peak, treacherous for the unaware foot or ankle.
Easing our way down over the gap, we took the familiar gravel fork towards the parking lot, down down to the fence line, and through the gate. The gate swung closed behind us. No ponies allowed near the road.
The green lawn spread out before us, the picnic area dotted with fantastically twisted branches mottled white and gray. We found a likely pause and eased off the packs. We swigged water and looked about us. People scattered across the park at various states of leisure or strolling progress. We hadn't planned to come out at this spot, as pretty as it was, but it was convenient, the closest outlet within a couple days hike for an emergency stop.
Who should we ask? Someone who looked friendly. Someone with a larger car. One couple nodded to us as they passed us on the way to their SUV still breathing hard from their hike. We'd passed them further up the trail. Them, I thought. I paused, letting them settle in. They took some time stowing their gear. I approached, looking as winsome and non threatening as possible.
"Excuse me, ma'am. I was wondering if you all could possibly give us a ride into Damascus. We've been on the trail all week, and our stove just broke! We need to get into town so we can get another stove at the outfitters. I was wondering if you all could you possibly help us out? We just need a ride."
The woman closed her face, unwilling to say yes or no. "Don!" She called to her husband. "What do you think? This lady says she needs a ride."
"Me and my husband, both." My husband nodded and tried to look non-threatening.
"Where are you all going?" The man squinted at me.
"Damascus," I told him. "Me and my husband" (here I nodded in DH's direction) "started from there last week. We had the bad luck of our camp stove breaking, so we need to get to the outfitters to have it fixed, but we're stuck out here without a ride. Would you happen to be heading in that direction?" I was giving him an easy out.
The man looked at us for a moment. "I think we could go that way." He eyed our packs. "Those should fit in back."
"Oh, thank you so much! We really appreciate it! I thought we'd be stuck here forever." I am miss light and easy. No pressure, no other requests. DH nods and says, "Thanks a lot." "No problem," the man says, but the woman looks as if she regrets giving her husband the final say.
We stowed the packs in silence.
"Where are you folks from? You don't sound like you are from hereabouts."
"Oh, we're from ____, North Carolina."
"North Carolina, huh?"
"Yup. We enjoy coming up here every year. Some years we just hike and camp. This year, we were more ambitious and are hiking a loop around the area."
I was still trying to be friendly. No, we are not weird people. We're just like you. Too late; we already look alien. Boots! Packs! Slightly stinky layers. And what sane person carried twenty five to forty pounds all over tarnation for the fun of it?
The drive takes a good thirty minutes on the twisty roads, the same distance it's taken us more than three days to cover on the trail. It's strange to be moving so quickly over the ground. It's a unsettled jarring of time and place. Why did we just cover all that ground on foot?
We chat about the metal roofs we see on houses, the state of the weather this Summer, our jobs. I am still trying to convince them that we are ordinary folks. But backpacking along a trail is already too strange.
"Do you all need to stop for any supplies?"
"No, we're pretty well set. We just need to get our stove fixed."
"You have everything you need in those packs, huh?"
"Yup, pretty much."
The woman picks up a Wendy's cup from the cup holder. She shakes the ice in the cup and slurps loudly. She shakes the ice again even more vigorously as if scolding us. I almost snort at her disapproving expression. Ma'am, you can keep your ice. We are not your social inferiors. Except somehow we are. Having to ask for help makes us inferior to the people who are always within easy reach of their cars.
They let us out half a block away from the outdoor outfitters store. "Do you need any help with that?" This time barely sincere. "No thanks, I've got it!" We swing the weight of the packs out easily. Once more, the packs are slung over our backs, this time for just a short jaunt up the street. We don't have any small bills to offer the couple in thanks, so I settle for a little philosophizing. "We really appreciate the ride. Thank you. It was a big help. I'll pass along the favor to someone else next time I get a chance." The woman's face is twisted into something almost a sneer. Ahh, screw it, lady. We nod at them and head straight for the store, relieved to be on the ground again.
At the outfitters, they tell us that a new part would take a week to come in, but that, amazingly, the camp stove is still under some kind of "forever" manufacturers warranty. They suggest that they give us another one just like it from their stock, and they'll return ours and get reimbursed. For the second time in one day, we are grateful of a stranger's generosity, but this time, it feels welcoming.
We are punchy with tiredness - it is now late afternoon. We devour a large pizza for dinner and head back over to our favorite backpackers haven. They'll shuttle us back to the gap later. But for now, we crash. The rooms are small cinderblock rooms with thin carpet, but they seem like luxury to us. A hot shower and we fall into bed, to return to the trail the next day.
--
Thursday, November 11, 2010
A Cold Night in Hooverville
It's Veteran's Day here in the US, November eleventh.
I don't know that I have anything profound to add. I've never served. I do know a few veterans, some with combat experience. My cousins, two uncles, a friend or several, one of my mother-in-law's grandsons, and men I see on the streets in desperate condition. Most of them don't talk about it much.
From a distance, I wonder about how the armed services seem to take great satisfaction in running the expensive high tech gear while maintaining their forces and their families on a shoestring. I don't know - maybe that is considered good budget management. And then after the people doing the fighting come home, they have senators voting against their benefits. Why?!? That just boggles my mind.
Okay, now I have to rant a little.
If we have young people serving some of the best years of their life for our country - going where they are told, doing what they are told, living an impossibly stressful life, surviving or not surviving or somewhat surviving (which may be worse) - then how can we not pony up their benefits and promised education?
Apparently, this denial of benefits is not new, though. Who was it - Hoover? who denied promised pay to a host of veterans, then when they and their families camped out in protest, in desperation, had them slashed down by calvary and burned out of their camp? Tell me I didn't just imagine that one. Maybe I read it in a book. ...No, sadly, the Bonus March was real. Hoover had a different opinion about how it went down and why, natcherly.
Currently, we have a young person (or old person) putting their life and sanity on the line for years, and then we as a country are miserly in compensating them? It speaks of a disrespect for the job they are asked to do. What does that make us? Ungrateful users. Never mind all the slogans. Even I, as a sorta peacenik, think we need to do better.
Where is the care and respect for treating their dire wounds of body and soul? Some veterans are near-literally kicked to the curb to beg for assistance. I see some of them on street corners every day. Who is going to salute them instead of pointedly looking the other way? I am too chicken-sh!t to talk to them, but it doesn't keep me from grinding my teeth when I hear about another benefit voted down or mental health services pulled, or the definitions of covered benefits changed. No, no, that's not Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, noooo; that person was already a little screwed up. Oh! Or maybe they are bi-polar! No PTSD here! Sure. Anything to avoid treating them. Excuse me, but What the h3ll?
Yes, veterans deserve a thank you, but it'd be even more appropriate if we would give them better services in appreciation for their service.
< /rant >
--
I don't know that I have anything profound to add. I've never served. I do know a few veterans, some with combat experience. My cousins, two uncles, a friend or several, one of my mother-in-law's grandsons, and men I see on the streets in desperate condition. Most of them don't talk about it much.
From a distance, I wonder about how the armed services seem to take great satisfaction in running the expensive high tech gear while maintaining their forces and their families on a shoestring. I don't know - maybe that is considered good budget management. And then after the people doing the fighting come home, they have senators voting against their benefits. Why?!? That just boggles my mind.
Okay, now I have to rant a little.
If we have young people serving some of the best years of their life for our country - going where they are told, doing what they are told, living an impossibly stressful life, surviving or not surviving or somewhat surviving (which may be worse) - then how can we not pony up their benefits and promised education?
Apparently, this denial of benefits is not new, though. Who was it - Hoover? who denied promised pay to a host of veterans, then when they and their families camped out in protest, in desperation, had them slashed down by calvary and burned out of their camp? Tell me I didn't just imagine that one. Maybe I read it in a book. ...No, sadly, the Bonus March was real. Hoover had a different opinion about how it went down and why, natcherly.
Currently, we have a young person (or old person) putting their life and sanity on the line for years, and then we as a country are miserly in compensating them? It speaks of a disrespect for the job they are asked to do. What does that make us? Ungrateful users. Never mind all the slogans. Even I, as a sorta peacenik, think we need to do better.
Where is the care and respect for treating their dire wounds of body and soul? Some veterans are near-literally kicked to the curb to beg for assistance. I see some of them on street corners every day. Who is going to salute them instead of pointedly looking the other way? I am too chicken-sh!t to talk to them, but it doesn't keep me from grinding my teeth when I hear about another benefit voted down or mental health services pulled, or the definitions of covered benefits changed. No, no, that's not Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, noooo; that person was already a little screwed up. Oh! Or maybe they are bi-polar! No PTSD here! Sure. Anything to avoid treating them. Excuse me, but What the h3ll?
Yes, veterans deserve a thank you, but it'd be even more appropriate if we would give them better services in appreciation for their service.
< /rant >
--
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Pushing Buttons
The little girl loves any button she can get her hands on. Buttons that make noise, trill, chime, scream, play music. The action that creates another action. So she's developed a vocabulary for expressing her fondness for pushing buttons.
But'ons! Ah push it. Ah push but'on. Play 'sica. (That's music, she's talking about.) 'Sica on!
She loves it. She's also become fond of finding new buttons to push. Keyboards, the telephone, the cell phone... Mommy even has a few buttons.
"Can I have a hug?" I ask, and she comes shrieking into my arms. "Haig!" she proclaims. "Kiss!"
Then I made the mistake of playfully telling her that "Mommy is sad" when she didn't want to give me a hug. Oh boy, oh boy. Dumb Mommy. Another button to push. She knows she can say "no" and get a reaction. So now I don't get as many hugs because when I ask, she often gets that wild look on her face that says "I know what I can do to make Mommy crazy - Mwahahaha!" Now I have to fake caring whether she gives me a hug or not.
Come to think of it, her expression at these times is similar to the face I grew up seeing my mother make: You better do this OR ELSE. The little girl never sees my mother make that face. She could only have gotten it from me.
I already messed up on the screaming thing. I hate it when she screams, not least of all because, at close range, she can make my ears go numb for several seconds at a time, just before the pain kicks in. Then for a while, she tried threatening me with screaming when didn't like something. I'd tell her, we have to go [do something] and she'd look at me meaningfully and say, "Ah scream!" I couldn't decide whether to laugh or hold my head. I can't help but laugh. Honey, you are trying to threaten me? I can take you out. But unfortunately, I can't really best her. I can only do my Mommy best to not give away too much of my reactions.
I've had some practice with swearing. Every so often, she picks up something I've said. I have gotten much better at ignoring the word I do not want to hear. She really doesn't need any more of that sort of buttons to push.
Let this be a lesson to me. If she finds a button, she will push it. Quick! Hide all the buttons!
--
But'ons! Ah push it. Ah push but'on. Play 'sica. (That's music, she's talking about.) 'Sica on!
She loves it. She's also become fond of finding new buttons to push. Keyboards, the telephone, the cell phone... Mommy even has a few buttons.
"Can I have a hug?" I ask, and she comes shrieking into my arms. "Haig!" she proclaims. "Kiss!"
Then I made the mistake of playfully telling her that "Mommy is sad" when she didn't want to give me a hug. Oh boy, oh boy. Dumb Mommy. Another button to push. She knows she can say "no" and get a reaction. So now I don't get as many hugs because when I ask, she often gets that wild look on her face that says "I know what I can do to make Mommy crazy - Mwahahaha!" Now I have to fake caring whether she gives me a hug or not.
Come to think of it, her expression at these times is similar to the face I grew up seeing my mother make: You better do this OR ELSE. The little girl never sees my mother make that face. She could only have gotten it from me.
I already messed up on the screaming thing. I hate it when she screams, not least of all because, at close range, she can make my ears go numb for several seconds at a time, just before the pain kicks in. Then for a while, she tried threatening me with screaming when didn't like something. I'd tell her, we have to go [do something] and she'd look at me meaningfully and say, "Ah scream!" I couldn't decide whether to laugh or hold my head. I can't help but laugh. Honey, you are trying to threaten me? I can take you out. But unfortunately, I can't really best her. I can only do my Mommy best to not give away too much of my reactions.
I've had some practice with swearing. Every so often, she picks up something I've said. I have gotten much better at ignoring the word I do not want to hear. She really doesn't need any more of that sort of buttons to push.
Let this be a lesson to me. If she finds a button, she will push it. Quick! Hide all the buttons!
--
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
A Little Jump On The Season
I am feeling some pressure to get ahead on Christmas preparations because --
- What's that you say? It's barely Thanksgiving and it's too early for Christmas? -
True, true, but once we clear the end of November, all things Christmas will start bearing down on me, and I will suddenly find myself with no time to do some of the special things I wanted to do, and wailing and bitching, *ahem* I mean stressing out about it.
I do have time to do those special things, but only if I work ahead. If I tackle the big projects as a series of mini projects, then all is calm. (Or as calm as you can get in the midst of everything going on.) If I wait until early-mid December to start, woe is me.
This year, when I realized that our contractor was going to eat up an entire week with projects all over the house, I concluded that it was time to put in some serious prep work. And, if I got in significant work before we travel for Thanksgiving, I'll have a jump on the whole season. Or at least keep close to "up."
I might as well go ahead and mix up and refrigerate a few batches of cookie dough, eh?
Sugar Crystals in Butter - sparkly!
Therefor, a sampling of my list accomplished so far:
Mixed a batch of white roll cookies. These lemon-vanilla cookies are rolled and cut into Christmassy shapes to be decorated later. I have hopes that the little girl will experience some of the sugar-frosting-splashing and sprinkle-spilling fun. It'll be enough of a time-consuming job to roll, cut, and bake them, so I'm glad I got the mixing and chilling out of the way.
Mixed a batch of ginger roll cookies. This is my favorite gingerbread cookie of the crisp variety. I'm hoping, in the name of toddler participation, that the little girl will be able to help place currents and cinnamon candies.
Bought craft supplies to make fun gifty things that the little girl can help me with. Shhh, I'll tell you about it later.
Stockpiled bars of white and dark chocolate for another fun gifty recipe.
Designed a felt advent calendar wall hanging. I was originally planning to recreate the wall hanging that one of my aunts made for me and my sisters, but the original has gone awol (damaged and thrown out, my mother reports unsentimentally). Then once I started searching online for ideas, I found lots of cool plans. I ended up reworking my original idea to incorporate the best of other versions. Right now, it's all on a sheet of paper with sketches and notes. I'll post some picture later, I promise.
Accumulated felt and other supplies for that advent calender wall-hanging. I still have lots of do to get this ready before Thanksgiving!
Made a rough budget for gift giving. Hopefully it's between realistic and draconian. We almost always overspend, so having a rough guideline helps us keep the spending from reaching the scary zone.
Stockpiled butter. I make lots and lots of cookies, and some of them are heavy on the butter (see below: pizelles). Whenever butter was on sale this Summer and Fall, I got a few more pounds and stashed them in the fridge and freezer, where they'll keep for ages.
Stockpiled chocolates and truffles on sale. My whole family loves my habit of stuffing their stockings with these wee goodies. Since I usually give at least 3-6 per person, truffles tend to run me about thirty dollars a year. I mean, seasonally. Plus oh, several *cough* more for quality control testing. Two out of three people in the household agree that we need to double check the truffles for freshness. Anyway, I have been shopping the sales, and stashing bags in places that we hopefully will forget exist until immediately before Christmas.
Found used play kitchen and play food/utensils for the little girl. We got this this Summer after weeks of shopping and craigslist scanning. We've been saving it until the little girl is old enough to appreciate it, which we figured would be about Christmas.
Other things on the list yet to be done:
Cook up a crock pot of mince fruit filling for pies. To make this happen, I need to cut up a bunch of apples, etc, thrown together with raisins and currants, molasses and spices, and let "simmer" overnight. Then I'm going to freeze two pies worth. Then, when I am at my inlaws for T-day cooking, I can bake two pies - one for my inlaw's dinner (even though most of my inlaws don't care for this pie), and one for my cousin's T-day dinner the day *after*. So after I cook the filling, I need to *freeze* the filling so it can travel without spoilage. Anyway, that's my plan. I just got fresh currants.
Mix up some Pfeffernüße, my favorite childhood German cookie. Like the previous several cookies, this needs to be refrigerated, but at least I am not making the teeny tiny version my grandmother specialized in - that would take me months to achieve.
Bake pizelles, my favorite Italian wafer-cookie. I invested in a pizelle press a few years back. What fun! I'm hoping to make several flavours. Anise-flavored, always. Last year I also made a vanilla version, an hazelnut-almond version, and an orange-lemon version. Some for gifts, and some (okay, lots!) for us. Yummy. Oh, did I mention each batch takes a couple sticks of butter and a solid hour of uninterrupted work? (See: stock-piling butter, also: working ahead).
Start measuring/cutting/sewing the Advent calendar wall hanging. Any day now.
Wipe down play kitchen and replace batteries. Did you know that play kitchens these days often come with a sensor that plays "cooking" and boiling/sputtering noises whenever a toy pot is put over a burner? Me neither! Yes, it's electronic, but it's cool!
Wrap already acquired presents. I could start on some of the books and what-not.
Decluttering the kitchen and living room. My goal is to clear out piles so we'll have space to appreciate the tree and other decorations. I might even box up some of the toys in the house for the season, just to get them out of the way during other hoopla.
Move my mailing boxes into one location. I've been saving boxes of a certain midsize, oh, about the size of a cookie tin, say.
Start drafting my annual end-of-year letter. Yes, I am one of those people who write Christmas letters. Frankly, I enjoy getting them from my cousins and other relatives. So I try to make mine informative and entertaining.
Get more sleep. I've been recuperating from a series of bizarre illnesses (hellooo, walking pneumonia! Can I introduce you to pleurisy?), probably because I have let myself get chronically tired and run down. Enough of this; I'm going to sleep. :)
And may all of your preparations be good ones.
--
- What's that you say? It's barely Thanksgiving and it's too early for Christmas? -
True, true, but once we clear the end of November, all things Christmas will start bearing down on me, and I will suddenly find myself with no time to do some of the special things I wanted to do, and wailing and bitching, *ahem* I mean stressing out about it.
I do have time to do those special things, but only if I work ahead. If I tackle the big projects as a series of mini projects, then all is calm. (Or as calm as you can get in the midst of everything going on.) If I wait until early-mid December to start, woe is me.
This year, when I realized that our contractor was going to eat up an entire week with projects all over the house, I concluded that it was time to put in some serious prep work. And, if I got in significant work before we travel for Thanksgiving, I'll have a jump on the whole season. Or at least keep close to "up."
I might as well go ahead and mix up and refrigerate a few batches of cookie dough, eh?
Sugar Crystals in Butter - sparkly!
Therefor, a sampling of my list accomplished so far:
Mixed a batch of white roll cookies. These lemon-vanilla cookies are rolled and cut into Christmassy shapes to be decorated later. I have hopes that the little girl will experience some of the sugar-frosting-splashing and sprinkle-spilling fun. It'll be enough of a time-consuming job to roll, cut, and bake them, so I'm glad I got the mixing and chilling out of the way.
Mixed a batch of ginger roll cookies. This is my favorite gingerbread cookie of the crisp variety. I'm hoping, in the name of toddler participation, that the little girl will be able to help place currents and cinnamon candies.
Bought craft supplies to make fun gifty things that the little girl can help me with. Shhh, I'll tell you about it later.
Stockpiled bars of white and dark chocolate for another fun gifty recipe.
Designed a felt advent calendar wall hanging. I was originally planning to recreate the wall hanging that one of my aunts made for me and my sisters, but the original has gone awol (damaged and thrown out, my mother reports unsentimentally). Then once I started searching online for ideas, I found lots of cool plans. I ended up reworking my original idea to incorporate the best of other versions. Right now, it's all on a sheet of paper with sketches and notes. I'll post some picture later, I promise.
Accumulated felt and other supplies for that advent calender wall-hanging. I still have lots of do to get this ready before Thanksgiving!
Made a rough budget for gift giving. Hopefully it's between realistic and draconian. We almost always overspend, so having a rough guideline helps us keep the spending from reaching the scary zone.
Stockpiled butter. I make lots and lots of cookies, and some of them are heavy on the butter (see below: pizelles). Whenever butter was on sale this Summer and Fall, I got a few more pounds and stashed them in the fridge and freezer, where they'll keep for ages.
Stockpiled chocolates and truffles on sale. My whole family loves my habit of stuffing their stockings with these wee goodies. Since I usually give at least 3-6 per person, truffles tend to run me about thirty dollars a year. I mean, seasonally. Plus oh, several *cough* more for quality control testing. Two out of three people in the household agree that we need to double check the truffles for freshness. Anyway, I have been shopping the sales, and stashing bags in places that we hopefully will forget exist until immediately before Christmas.
Found used play kitchen and play food/utensils for the little girl. We got this this Summer after weeks of shopping and craigslist scanning. We've been saving it until the little girl is old enough to appreciate it, which we figured would be about Christmas.
Other things on the list yet to be done:
Cook up a crock pot of mince fruit filling for pies. To make this happen, I need to cut up a bunch of apples, etc, thrown together with raisins and currants, molasses and spices, and let "simmer" overnight. Then I'm going to freeze two pies worth. Then, when I am at my inlaws for T-day cooking, I can bake two pies - one for my inlaw's dinner (even though most of my inlaws don't care for this pie), and one for my cousin's T-day dinner the day *after*. So after I cook the filling, I need to *freeze* the filling so it can travel without spoilage. Anyway, that's my plan. I just got fresh currants.
Mix up some Pfeffernüße, my favorite childhood German cookie. Like the previous several cookies, this needs to be refrigerated, but at least I am not making the teeny tiny version my grandmother specialized in - that would take me months to achieve.
Bake pizelles, my favorite Italian wafer-cookie. I invested in a pizelle press a few years back. What fun! I'm hoping to make several flavours. Anise-flavored, always. Last year I also made a vanilla version, an hazelnut-almond version, and an orange-lemon version. Some for gifts, and some (okay, lots!) for us. Yummy. Oh, did I mention each batch takes a couple sticks of butter and a solid hour of uninterrupted work? (See: stock-piling butter, also: working ahead).
Start measuring/cutting/sewing the Advent calendar wall hanging. Any day now.
Wipe down play kitchen and replace batteries. Did you know that play kitchens these days often come with a sensor that plays "cooking" and boiling/sputtering noises whenever a toy pot is put over a burner? Me neither! Yes, it's electronic, but it's cool!
Wrap already acquired presents. I could start on some of the books and what-not.
Decluttering the kitchen and living room. My goal is to clear out piles so we'll have space to appreciate the tree and other decorations. I might even box up some of the toys in the house for the season, just to get them out of the way during other hoopla.
Move my mailing boxes into one location. I've been saving boxes of a certain midsize, oh, about the size of a cookie tin, say.
Start drafting my annual end-of-year letter. Yes, I am one of those people who write Christmas letters. Frankly, I enjoy getting them from my cousins and other relatives. So I try to make mine informative and entertaining.
Get more sleep. I've been recuperating from a series of bizarre illnesses (hellooo, walking pneumonia! Can I introduce you to pleurisy?), probably because I have let myself get chronically tired and run down. Enough of this; I'm going to sleep. :)
And may all of your preparations be good ones.
--
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