Validation

I can be a nag, nag, nag, nag, nag.  And I am moody and harpy sometimes too.  These are the hardcore facts, and it is not even surprising.  What is surprising is that I have a whole handful of lovely people who love me anyway.

I have a husband who wakes up extra early so he can arrange my favorite color roses (peach) for a faux anniversary of ours, on a made-up holiday, before he takes the boys up north with him at the crack of dawn.

I have a little girl that doesn't mind missing a quick trip up north (though it is one of her very favorite places on earth) for the simple fact that she wants to be with her mama. Apparently I am her most favorite thing in the world and she is thrilled to be doing whatever I have planned as long as we are together.

I have three little boys who, no matter how much I nag and scold them the entire previous week, still come home from one short little overnight trip up north and tell me how much they missed me.  How up north is even better when I'm there.  How he kept saying, "hey mom!" and when he realized I wasn't there felt like, "aww." They wanted to talk to me. They wanted my hugs.  No matter how grouchy I had been they still wanted me there.

How did I get to be this lucky?  What on earth have I done to deserve this?  I just don't know.  But I do know that I will try my best to be my best for them everyday.  And sometimes I will fail.  But they'll love me anyway.

Wishing

Sometimes I just really feel like I stink at this.  

Sometimes I just wish I were the type of mom that didn't mind cleaning up the boys' disgusting messes in the bathroom for the hundredth time in a week.  I wish I was the type of mom that didn't freak out when my kids came home with yet another hole in a brand new pair of pants.  I wish I could shrug it off when my son, once again, forgets to bring home an important part of his homework.  I wish I was the type of mom that can remind my kids to do something a million times a day and then doesn't freak out when it still isn't done.  I wish I was the kind of mom that can just brush off one more lost jacket, broken zipper, ruined backpack.  I wish I was a patient enough mom to ease my child back onto his chair after he makes yet another excuse, another distraction, not to do his homework as the 20 minute assignment drags on for an hour.  I wish I could handle my kids yelling, wrestling, fighting, hysterical laughter, craziness, forgetfulness, and not listening first thing in the morning and get them ready for school (prepared and with everything they need) in a timely manner without having to yell and rush.

Apparently, I'm just not that kind of mom.  Not this week anyway.  I feel like I have been yelling and scolding and begging and pleading and chastising all week.  It has been a long week.  And I feel like a crappy, impatient, cantankerous mom.

There is only one thing to do when these types of weeks happen.

Cookies.  And lots of them.  At least Gracie had fun.  I had less fun as I was waiting for a serviceman to come the entire time and he never showed.  Now I am ornery mom again.  But at least I have cookies.

Maybe if I eat them all at once I'll feel better.

If Gracie doesn't eat them all first, that is.

Here's hoping for a cheerier, calmer, and yummier weekend.




Hosted by Cecily and Lolli

You Capture- Fall

Today's You Capture theme is Fall.  Now, you probably have noticed that my last four or five posts have all been about fall, complete with a million pictures.  But guess what!  I have another picture for you! A bunch of them, actually.  But I'm not gonna post them all.  Nope.

I'm not gonna post the picture of all of us enjoying our new toy up north this past weekend.

I'm not gonna post yet another picture of the gorgeous trees.

I won't even post a pic of the field trip I chaperoned for both Grace's and Ben's classes today to the pumpkin farm.  Can you believe my restraint?

Nope.  I'm just gonna pick one picture to post.  A fairly simple picture for fall but I love it.

Cooking Lessons

My mom used to make homemade bread.  I remember her putting the dough-filled bread pans, carefully covered with towels, out in a sunny spot in the backyard to rise.  I remember how she sprinkled flour on the cutting board and then smushed and burped and folded the dough as she kneaded it.  Occasionally, mom would give me a small amount of dough to knead and shape into a bun.  I would grease my little tin measuring cup with shortening, lovingly place the dough inside, and set it in the oven alongside my mom's perfectly made loaves.

The whole house would fill with the warm yeasty smell and to this day I can't think of mom making bread without also picturing the sunlight coming through the windows and hearing her singing along to Ella Fitzgerald playing on the radio.  I don't ever remember something bad happening when bread was baking in the oven.  

If I was really lucky the loaves would come out of the oven, and after a little cooling time, we would have a warm slice with homemade applesauce on top.  Life was golden and lovely.

It may have happened only a dozen times or so, but making my own little bun alongside my mother is still such a strong memory.  There is something so comforting in cooking memories. Recipes and techniques being passed down.  Stories being told as the lessons are learned.   What a strange connection food and love can have.

I've been thinking about what memories my kids will have of me in the kitchen.  Will they remember me being too scared to let them use the knives?  Will they remember me shooing them away from the stove every five seconds?  Will they remember me chasing them out of the kitchen, away from the possibility of a lesson?  A story?  A passion?  What have I taught them?  What recipes, techniques, memories will they carry with them?

Certainly they will remember making cookies with me.  We've done that often enough.  But so many times they ask to help, and either because of my worries, time constraints, or just my own control issues, their offers are cast aside.  Another opportunity wasted.

They are more capable than I give them credit for.  They are eager and willing to help and participate and bond.  They ask, and I need to give.

It starts out small.  We continue on with cookies.  "This is your great grandma's ginger snap recipe, and it is the best!" I tell them.  We count out the cups of flour and the sugar.  They marvel at the thickness of the molasses and how hard the dough is to stir.  They watch patiently as the cookies plump in the oven.  When the cookies come out of the oven they agree that great grandma really knew what she was doing.

Later on another opportunity arises.

As I am making applesauce Tommy saunters into the kitchen and asks to help.  Instead of my usual answer I tell him to wash his hands and pull up a stool.  I peel and he cores.  A few minutes later Ben sees us.  Then Grace.  Then Joey.  Soon we are all lined up making applesauce.  One peels, one cores, one cuts, one places the apples in the kettle.  An assembly line of the happiest workers you can imagine.  And, afterwards, the applesauce is the best they've ever tasted.  Their applesauce.

No one sliced a finger, no one burned their face off.  And everyone had fun.  It was a lesson for me, and a memory for all of us.

I hope I remember that feeling of being a little girl making bread with my mom the next time one of my kids asks to help me.  I hope I remember that these little things are what make up a lifetime of memories.  I hope that when they get older they will each carry my recipes, my techniques, my stories with them because I was patient enough to show them.





Hosted by Cecily and Lolli

Festively Fall

The wind is whipping up a frenzy outside, beating golden leaves against my window as they rain down from the trees.  I am clutching my steaming coffee in my hands, trying to seep out any warmth that I can.  My sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, and slippers are not enough to keep me warm today though the weather is slightly warmer than it was yesterday.  I have a chill I just can't shake.  Perhaps I should break down and turn on the furnace. 

The weather seems to have taken a sharp turn from warm 70s to cool 50s overnight.   The wind has kicked up too making my runs a bit more difficult with the extra clothing, the heavy winds, and the leaves swirling around my feet as I struggle to keep moving.  Wasn't it just a few days ago I was running in shorts and a tank top?

No matter.  This is fall.  And I just can't help but love fall regardless of the chilly weather, crazy winds, colds that hold on and on, and decreasing sunlight.  

Fall, oh glorious fall.

My house is all gussied up from head to toe in fall decorations.  There are leaves and scarecrows and pumpkins and ghosts and witches everywhere.  Apple pie and mulberry scented candles fill the air.  Pumpkin spice coffee is always brewing, and I am working on my third massive batch of applesauce soon.  Every other day I bring home just one more decoration for the yard, porch, or mantle.  I love watching the kids come home from school and ooh and ahh over the decorations and the smell of the cookies fresh out of the oven.  

Fall, oh glorious fall.

Though the weather was cooler than I'd liked we really lived it up this weekend and managed to fit in a bunch of wonderful fall activity on our list of favorites.  

Number 1 on that list is a trip to the pumpkin farm/apple orchard.  It is definitely a must every year.

The kids took the obligatory family tree picture and Todd and I even got in on a little goofiness as well.

Todd makes for a really hairy woman.

AND, we even managed to get not one, but two, really nice family photos.  Now I just need to pick which one will be framed in our living room.

After the pictures were taken the kids were free to roam around picking out their pumpkins, climb in the haystack, feed the animals, and look at all the goodies in the apple store.

When we had finally paid for our pumpkins, gourds, hay bales, apple cider, and bags of apples it was time to head back home.  The kids were sad to leave the pumpkin farm so I promised more outdoor fun when we got home.  

Leaves littered our front yard and the kids eagerly helped me rake them into a huge pile.  I was pleasantly surprised to see how much the boys were able to help with the raking this year and in no time we had enough leaves for jumping and hiding.  

The kids had a blast in their leaf pile (and Molly had a blast barking at them and biting at the leaves), and I'm still picking up stray leaves in my living room that hitched a ride in on the kids' clothes.   Ah well.  It goes with the rest of the fall decor in my house, right?

We wrapped up the day with a nice warm fire, snuggly blanket nests, a halloween movie, warm fuzzy jammies, fresh apple cider, and popcorn.

It was a darned good day despite the chill in the air.

Fall, oh glorious fall.

WW- Calling My Name

Falling Into Fall

It happens every year.  I fight the start of school, the coming of fall, and then as soon as fall starts I become entranced in the colors, the smells, and the feel of fall all over again.  Each and every year I fall for fall.

New England is known for their brilliant fall colors but Wisconsin is much the same.  There are not many things in this life that can live up to the beauty of a warm, fall day in Wisconsin.

Knowing the weather was predicted to be sunny and 70 and that the leaves would be at their peak this weekend we decided to make the trek to the cabin in northern Wisconsin.  Todd went up on Thursday night to get all of his busy work done, and I stayed home and waited for the kids to get out of school on Friday so the rest of us could join him.

Despite the fact that I woke up Friday morning with a nasty cold, and the day was jam packed with getting the kids ready for school, a trip to the store, running back to school to drop off forgotten paperwork, a doctor's appointment for Ben (he is completely recovered- a miraculous recovery as the doctor has never seen such a quick healer), a doggy haircut, another trip to the store, and packing everyone's bags, I was still looking forward to being up north and soaking in some fall.

I was still in fairly good spirits, despite the fact that I was sick as a dog, the traffic was backed up over the Green Bay bridge, Ben got a massive bloody nose in the car, and a three hour car ride took 4 hours. I was a little less enthused when Todd was not at the cabin (he was in "town" getting a bite to eat with Uncle Greg) when we had finally arrived which meant I had to unpack the whole van by myself.  But, I managed to do it all and still had time to collapse on the bed for 5 minutes before it was time to feed the kids (again) and then get them off to bed.  

After a nice, big heaping of cold medicine I woke up to this.

Not a bad way to start the day.

Grace and I took our time getting up and getting ready while the menfolk were busy getting the chainsaw, wood-splitter, and four wheeler prepped for a day in the woods.   The plan for the day involved removing dead trees and stocking the wood shed for the long winter ahead.

When Grace and I finally ate and got dressed we joined the gents across the road in the woods.  I relaxed my achy back and stuffed head on the four wheeler while the rest of the crew hauled wood back to the trailer.  The boys super duper impressed me with their determination and hard work.

With everyone joining in it only took a little while to split and stack all the wood.  So much wood was split that the pile towered over the boys' heads, and another pile of kindling was stacked on the other side of the shed.

When all the work was done the kiddos and I took a walk down the road to see the beautiful color.  It did not disappoint.  Even Molly admired the view.

The color was so beautiful we couldn't decide which tree was the prettiest.  Reds versus oranges versus yellows versus rusts.  Just too much beauty to take in.

All day long the colors and smells of fall enveloped us and made even the most mundane chore special.

Standing at the kitchen sink, my hands soaked with bubbles, I had to grab my camera one more time and catch the picture right in front of me.

Even with my cold, it was a wonderful way to fall in love with fall.