Thursday, March 17, 2016

Book update

I’ve been reading! I just haven’t always remembered to mark down when I finished a book. This gets me caught up…

Book 18/50: Rogue Lawyer
John Grisham's latest. I love John Grisham, although his past two books have become increasingly politically-charged. A little less fiction and a little more agenda. I prefer the escape from reality...

Book 19/50: To Kill A Mockingbird
One of those books I should have read a long time ago. I finally got serious about it when Roy booked tickets for us to see the play at GEVA Theatre. It was such a great book. I had it in my head that Atticus Finch was some kind of old, dirty, southern drunk. ‘Atticus’ is such a sharp-sounding name to me. Turns out he’s more like John Avery Whittaker, or as Roy said, “an American Dumbledore.”

20/50: The Giver
A re-read from college. I originally stole it from a camper in my wing after she complained about how boring it was and LOVED it. Loved it just as much this time around. Couldn’t quite banish the sobering notion of equating Gabriel with Owen.

21/50: Chasing Grace: Reflections of a Catholic Girl, Grown Up
Martha Manning is a psychologist who wrote a very funny memoir. I didn’t grow up Catholic, but I found myself nodding vigorously with a lot of her descriptions of a fundamentalist childhood—and the hilarious confusion in sorting through those black and whites in a grey world. I laughed out loud more than once--recommended!

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Date Night In: A Flemish Feast

Gabe and I had tried being friends for quite a while before we jumped into dating. Everyone around us knew we were only kidding ourselves, but we insisted that we were “just good friends.” –Date Night In, p. 248

The story of how Roy and I came to be, our story, is a long sordid tale that is wonderful and romantic to us, and I will spare you most of the gory details. But you should know that it is steeped in friendship. We were friends for a year and a half before we began dating. For much of that time we couldn’t be anything more than friends, due to some of the long sordidness. And that was fine. It was great, actually. Eventually people started to pester us, in their gentle ways, about the fact that we weren’t together. (We still maintain that our paternal sets of grandparents conspired to bring the whole thing about.) Eventually, we did. But it was long distance and it wasn’t easy, ever. The friendship kept us going when the romance was impossible.

So this date night, one themed around friendship, was appealing. Let’s celebrate the fact that we were from the start, and happiest when we are friends.

Menu:
Bitter Greens with Mustard Vinaigrette
Belgian Frites
Flemish Beef Stew
Yeasted Belgian Waffles with Ice Cream and Hot Fudge

The salad was simple and colorful, which was needed, because the rest of the meal was not. The four ingredient dressing was lovely—could definitely become a staple in my fridge for all sorts of salads. We spent all day yesterday outside, running and tramping around in the warm weather. We were yearning for fresh food and this salad was needed.
I am ready for another bowl of that right now.
Then we fried fries. Oy with the deep frying already. I had to do it again for these fries. Twice, actually. The good news is I’m getting better at it. The bad news is that is still makes me queasy and it’s always a messy ordeal. They turned out pretty good—still soggier than I’d like. The malt vinegar/mayo dip was spectacular though. Move over ketchup.

The vinegar was from London...so was the syrup we used in the hot fudge. I guess Belgium and Britain share culinary secrets. (What DO you call a native Belgiumite? A Flem? A Belg? These are not great options.)
The Flemish beef stew was exciting. We always love any excuse to buy a decent cut of meat, although I get nervous about not screwing up that decent cut of meat. $$$. It tasted quite good but looked disgusting. Seriously. Pretty pictures, these are not. I think next time I’ll make this in the crockpot—things were sticking to the Dutch oven and the meat was a bit overdone. It was good, but I think I semi-screwed up the decent cut of meat. :(
Seriously ugly hunks of meat. It's dishes like this that inspired "garnish."

As Roy said, “Well, nothing’s been bad, but I’m guessing the waffles are going to save this Date Night In.”
Pretty golden-brown.

They did. The fudge was my favorite thing to make, and taste. Come over and try some—we have lots of leftovers! The waffles were light and flavorful. But really they were just a vehicle for hot fudge and ice cream. I’d be OK with just the ice cream and fudge—save the waffles for breakfast. (We had leftovers this morning and I enjoyed them much more.)

This meal made me feel heavy and sick to my stomach. A lot of oil, heavy meat, and carbs. We aren’t used to that. The flavors were pretty good, but after such a miraculous day of flitting around outdoors it wasn’t worth going to bed feeling like there was a boulder in my stomach.


Our marriage shines brightest when we are laughing and hanging out together. This year we’ve cut back a bit on the number of jobs and musical commitments and it has been a beautiful season of renewal for our friendship. What used to be a day or few hours snatched here and there, and largely spent re-remembering who the other person was, can now be days, living life with our little family and sharing the good and the bad in real time. I’ve seen viral articles flash across Facebook claiming, “My Husband Isn’t My Best Friend and Our Marriage Is Better For It” and I know that there’s more to that claim than the headline. But, guess what? My husband really is my best friend. And I’m OK with that world!


Someday it will be just the two of us again. The kids will be grown and will eventually move out of the house. What will be left is us and our friendship. It’s the constant in our marriage that takes time and energy to cultivate. It’s not sustainable on its own and will not wait for us to find it. Without nourishing it, it deteriorates and leaves little behind…I want my best friend alongside me no matter where I am. With him, I am a better person; without him, there’s something missing.” –DNI, p. 248

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

March Date Night In Preparations

I woke up this morning with a smile on my face. Last night Roy and I enjoyed martinis, caramel popcorn, and a great movie in our bed. I looked at him halfway and said, “Sometimes it’s just really FUN to be grown up.” Today the weather promises to be WARM and we are home as a family all day. We have plans to be outside as much as possible, go for a long run, follow James on his trike around the neighborhood, and a wonderful meal tonight after the boys are in bed.

(The warm weather coincides nicely with the start of my workplace’s Eat Well Live Well challenge. I get to wear a pedometer for the next 50 days and count my steps. Yesterday I got off to a really great start. This is partly because we went for a run and partly because I held nephew Roland for an hour and he insisted on bouncing and trotting around the house. My teammates thank you Roland.)

Tonight’s Date Night In hearkens back to the International Date Nights we loved a few years ago. We’ll be enjoying the cuisine of Belgium. Last night I completed the following preparations:
1.       Made salad dressing
2.       Made waffle batter (wouldn’t be Flemish without Belgian waffles)

3.       Made hot fudge (and it wouldn’t be a Belgian waffle without some high quality chocolate sauce slathered on top)

Today we’ll have lots of time to slow-cook a Flemish stew, prepare some frites, and bake waffles. I’m pretttttty excited. There’s just nothing better than when Roy gets back from Wegmans with the special ingredients and I survey the possibilities. Date Night In has been a great thing for us as a couple, but it’s also been a perfect excuse opportunity to try lots of new cooking techniques. So. Much. Fun.

Here’s a to-do list for this wonderful day:
1.       Get outside. Stay outside.
2.       Eat something delicious.
3.       Spend some time reflecting on how blessed I am.
4.       Find a way to bless somebody else’s world today.


Join me, will you?

Today's 1%: Happy birthday Daddy! We are sending you so much love and sometimes can't believe that we lucked out having you as our dad. Thanks for teaching us and LIVING what it means to be a man who serves the Lord with his whole heart. James hopes you get lots of tools for your birthday presents.

Sunday, March 6, 2016

Anecdotes

I.                    “Hey Mommy, we are very close to the restaurant.”
“Which restaurant, James?”
“You know. The restaurant.”
“Do you mean Jitters? Or Tim Hortons?”
“I mean the one with the booster seats.”
“Oh. You mean the North Chili Family Restaurant! They make some good pancakes there.”
“Yeah.”
<long silence>
“Hey Mommy, I think we should EAT at the restaurant. Isn’t that a good idea? My treat.”

II.                  Me, “Owen, you got my phone again.
Owen, “AHHH-dah!”
Siri, “Sorry Julie, I don’t know what you mean.”
Me, “It’s not me Siri, it’s Owen.”
Siri, “Should I call you Owen from now on?”
Me, “Sure. He talks to you more than I do.”
Siri, “OK. I’ll call you Owen from now on.”

A couple of days later:
Roy, “Hey, you know how Siri said she’d start calling you Owen? I have a bunch of emails in my inbox from Owen. I think she’s sending all your correspondence on his behalf.”

“Siri, call me Julie from now on.”

III.                Me, “Owen, it’s time to go brush teeth.”
Owen, “AHHHH-dah!!!!”
Me, “Why don’t you give James a goodnight hug?”
<Owen runs over and throws his arms around James. James gives him a big hug back and bends over and kisses the top of his head.>
Me, “Ahhh! You two are SOO sweet! You just melt my heart!”
<James abruptly cuts off the hug and looks at me in alarm>
“Are you OK Mommy? Why did your heart melt?”
Me, “It’s just an expression sweetie.”
James, “But. But…can you unmelt it?”
Me, stammering, “Well, saying ‘you melt my heart’ is just a way of saying you boys are so sweet. Like if I said ‘I’m so hungry I could eat a whole elephant.’ I really don’t want to eat an entire elephant—it’s just another way of saying I’m super hungry.”
James, “…. … … But is your heart going to be OK????”


Today’s 1%: The baking bread at home experiment is going so well that I tracked down a 25 lb bag of bread flour yesterday. Cost for a 5 lb bag at Wegmans: $3.99. Cost of 25 lb bag through Sam’s Club (thank you Grandma Joy): $6.49.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Book 17/50

 I gave up on Freddy and Fredericka. I tried. Really hard. But by the time the protagonists (I think they were protagonists anyway) were parachuting into New Jersey in loin clothes made of snakeskin I just couldn’t anymore. Roy gave me a nice soft cushion to fall on, repeatedly assuring me that I truly didn’t have to finish reading every book on my list—that there were always other books that could substitute to finish my 50 in a year. I still feel a little like a failure. But. Snakeskin. New Jersey. There was a motorcycle gang and sword fighting and…no.

So instead I picked up a book on loan from a friend. I asked a lot of people back in December, “If you could recommend one book for me to read in 2016, what would it be?” And her answer came immediately and without reservation, “Carry On, Warrior.” She lent me her copy and I read it in two days.

Self-help books are really not my thing. I’ll read them, kind of enjoy them, but I never do anything about all the help. I’m mistrustful of the help actually. I’m mistrustful of anyone offering spiritual advice who doesn’t have a lot of degrees and I’m mistrustful of anyone offering parenting or friendship advice who doesn’t share my worldview.

I’ve read Beth Moore books and Stacy Eldredge books and I…I just don’t trust them. I’m not sure I can put my finger on “why”, but I always get the sense that they are pigeonholing God into very specific, narrow parameters. Parameters that happen to match the theses of their books. Now, I’m sure they would counter argue that their books grew OUT of their knowledge of who God is, but it never comes across that way. Because I don’t always trust their theology I have a hard time trusting much of what else they say.

So I picked up this book, somewhat mistrustfully. Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life. Well, that’s something. I don’t trust that my life can be both of those things at the same time. At least I don’t think the world can see that. The world values Pinteresty homes and milestone-hitting children and thin mamas.

And, I’ll be honest, I am mistrustful of this book too. But, ironically, for the opposite reasons of why I normal shun the genre. Glennon Doyle Melton writes of her faith in God, and in Jesus, but briefly, and there’s almost no scripture, no “as I was doing my devotions this morning the Lord spoke to me”, and no overly-modest humility. She uses way more I’s and me’s and myself’s than I am comfortable with, and she, gasp, swears sometimes. She doesn’t think homosexuality is a sin and she probably voted for Obama. These are ALL things that go against my upbringing, if I’m honest. And I’m uncomfortable with a lot of what she says.

But I wonder, “Is my discomfort on her, or on me?” Melton is a woman of action. Say what you will about her shopping sprees and profanity, but the woman DOES. She has given away all of her money. Twice. She has made painful moves with her family because she wanted to challenge their views of comfort and seek the things that really matter. (Which, for her, are peace, confidence/humility (she argues the two go hand-in-hand), family, the world.) She has tried to adopt, unsuccessfully, time and time again, even though the rejection tears at her very core, because she has this NEED to care for another woman’s child who would never know love otherwise.

I know I can’t have it both ways. I can’t denounce Beth Moore for being cliché and having misguided theology and then condemn Glennon Doyle Melton for living, utterly abandoned, a rough-around-the-edges attempt of how she sees the teachings of Jesus.

So I tried to reconcile myself with Melton. And here’s what I came up with:

1.       Some of what she writes is so dead on, so SPOT ON with how I think and act, that I know she can’t be entirely removed from what it is to be an American housewife in the twenty-first century. Even a conservative one.
2.       The end of Melton’s book references a story where she meets an older woman at one of her book signings. The woman says, “Glennon, I disagree with a lot of what you write. But I came here to say thank you, because you’ve taught me that I can love someone I disagree with. And that has been very freeing to me.” (p. 270) And I thought, “That’s IT!” In today’s society, in the middle of an election season, people are so cruel to each other. And if they can’t agree, they think their relationship is irreparably damaged and walk away. I am TIRED of that. I am exhausted by people leaving churches because they can’t coexist over inconsequential issues. Of families alienating certain members because they don’t see eye to eye on politics, religion, or, dare I say, sexual preference/orientation? When can we start loving people we disagree with? How can I do that? Because I don’t see it modeled often.
3.       The friend who recommended this book is, perhaps, the kindest person I know. She gives with abandon, and she never seems to get burned out doing it. That is KEY, my friends. My friend lives the principals of this book, but I never would have known about the book if I hadn’t asked. But I see it in her. (This is how we want to introduce people to the Bible, no?) And I think that she lives unselfishly because she genuinely sees the beauty in other people and respects and wants to honor that. That is VERY different than “doing good things for people because we’re supposed to.” And I think I would like to live that way more. (I should mention, as well, that this friend is a follower of Jesus, and she would be quick to say that the original teachings in scripture fuel her loving kindness. But Carry On, Warrior can help too.)

So much to think about, right? I hope those of you who love Beth Moore books and can’t believe that I just used the term “sexual preference/orientation” in my blog can still love me in spite of potentially disagreeing with me. Let’s practice together, shall we?


Today’s 1%: My boys played so beautifully together while I wrote this. They are sharing a remote controlled car and chasing each other around the downstairs giggling uproariously. When do we hit the tattling/fighting stage? Because this is sweet and it should last forever.

Friday, February 26, 2016

A morning outing

You know those kids books that have the sidebar of buttons you can press when you see the corresponding pictures in the text? Maybe it’s for a catchphrase, or a sound effect, or simply to let you know when to turn the page? Well, today I took the kids to the mall, and we’re going to summarize the adventure in a similar way. Here’s your key:

Key to sound effects:

@ = “the carousel”

$ = Want to buy that

! = Uh-oh

^ = protesting and squirming to escape

+ = “Dant-da-da-DAH!” (eighth, two sixteenths on Do, accented half note on Sol)


One day, Julie, housebound for a week with a terrible head cold, decided enough was enough and packed her two young sons up for a trip to the mall. Why the mall, you ask? It wasn’t because she had a lot of cash to burn and it wasn’t because the boys loved malls. No, the reason had much more to do with a large area of space to walk and lots of open air to hopefully keep the germ-sharing to a minimum.

Julie convinced her eldest son that going to the mall was a good idea by promising him a ride on @. She was sure to triple-check that there was, indeed, @ at this mall, because one time in the past she took him to the one mall in Rochester that didn’t have @ and he was heartbroken. @ existed. She was sure this time.

The trip out was short and pleasant. She buckled Owen into his stroller, who did a lot of ^. James walked quietly by her side and they entered the largest shopping mall in the city. Julie told them they should have a contest to see who could spot the first dog, or monkey, or picture of a snowman. James responded that they should look for @. Owen ^. The first store they walked by was Williams and Sonoma, which made Julie ponder inwardly, “$.” And then they passed the Apple store, ($) and Clarks ($). James said, “Hey Mommy. You know what? We should look for @.”

So they walked to the closest map of the mall (a giant kiosk with a touchscreen) and worked on their wilderness skills in map reading. No surprise, @ was at the other end of the mall. Owen stopped ^ at the sight of the giant screen and fell silent, finally content to take in the sights and smells of the mall. Julie assumed there were smells. She walked past a pretzel shop, normally the best part of a mall visit (smelling, not usually buying) but her olfactory system had abandoned her sometime in the night.

The three strolled past clothing and shoe stores, wishing fountains and giant potted plants. There was an enormous fireplace and comfortable chairs. ($) James kept up a steady stream of, “Oh boy Owen! I think we must be very near @. We are on our way to @. You know Mommy, it’s too bad that along with @ there isn’t a train. Is @ around the corner? I think I see @.” Owen continued to watch in peaceful silence.

Nearly across the entire mall, Julie paused in their journey to insist that the boys come into the Lego store. I mean, how often do you pass a Lego store? And James had never been in one. He reluctantly agreed, reminding his mother that @ awaited as SOON as they were done. The Lego store wasn’t half bad, it turned out. “Hey Mommy, $. And after $ let’s get to @.” Owen dropped a few pieces, “!” on the floor but mostly just looked at the big displays set up around the store’s perimeter. It wasn’t until Julie leaned down to pick up the pieces Owen had dropped that she noticed.

“!”

“Owen, you sneaky little rascal. WHEN did you kick off your shoes?”

“!”

“James, Owen kicked off his shoes.”

“! But Mommy, we still need to ride @.”

After a moment in thought, Julie gave the sneakers up for lost. Traffic was picking up in the mall and, while she would certainly keep an eye out for them on the way back, the chances of finding two separate sneakers were slim. If only they were near a shoe store… Julie knew from prior experience that the next best thing to shoe shopping is shoe shopping for somebody else.

So the decision was made to journey onward. The trio exited the Lego store, turned a corner, and

James, <sharp intake of air> “+ @ @ @ @ + MOMMY.”

Owen, “!”

We crossed the food court, nearly victorious in our quest. You could almost taste it. (Well, the boys could.) And then Julie saw the sign, “One dollar per ride. Exact change only.”

She had, along with triple checking the existence of @, scoured the house from top to bottom for cash. At last, when she was sure she’d have to stop by the bank, she located a tenner tucked away in a jar. But now…she needed single dollars, and didn’t know how to come by them.

But wait--Customer Service. And literally just down the side hallway. What luck! With James nearly panicked at being taken even a few feet away from @ Julie walked them into the empty side room.

Nice customer service rep, “Well hello there. How can I help?”
Julie, “Would you be able to break this ten so we can ride @?”
James, “Hey, younno what? WE’RE gonna ride @.”
Owen, “!”
Customer rep, “Sure, no problem. @ huh? Sounds pretty fun.”
James, “Yeah, it sure does sound fun. It’s too bad there isn’t a train.”
Rep casually exchanges my bill and sees James eyeing up a large rack of brochures, “You know, you can take some of those if you want. Do you have a favorite pictures?”
James, <blank stare>
Rep, “Which picture is your favorite?”
James, <blank stare>
Julie, “James, do you have a favorite paper up there?”
James, <blank stare>
Julie, to rep, “Sometimes he gets a little one-tracked in his mind.”
James, “Hey, is it almost time for @?”

The mother and two little boys returned to @ and, as Julie unpacked Owen from the stroller, another young mom peered at his feet.

“Hey, did he lose his shoes by any chance?”
Julie, “Yes! He did!”
Owen, “!”
Nice young mom, “We saw those by the kiosk near Starbucks. Were you near there?”
Julie, “Yes!”
Mom, “I thought about turning them in or asking people along the way but I figured I’d just leave them there if somebody was going to retrace steps. We’re looking for a hat my little guy lost anyway.”
Julie, “Hey! I saw a hat! It was draped over a sign on the other side of the Starbucks! I had forgotten about it until just now.”
Mom and Julie high-five each other.
James, “@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “
Owen, “^ ^ ^ ^ ^”

Julie paid, with singles, for two boys to ride @, escorted them up the stairs to the second floor (it was quite @), and settled down on a bench. James sat with rapt wonder, barely moving, not smiling, drinking in every nanosecond. Owen ^. And ^. And ^ some more.

The ride was over far too quickly for Julie, and James’ monologue about @ resumed immediately upon dismounting. They went back through the mall a different route (so as to avoid reporting to Herod their findings…) and James was the first one to spot Owen’s shoes, exactly where the lady had said, under the beaming kiosk.

Owen grinned ruefully as Julie crammed his feet back inside and tightened down the Velcro as tightly as she dared. They had only spent two dollars, in spite of Julie’s longing to $. She glanced wistfully at Starbucks, remembered that she couldn’t taste anyway, but then thought about her sore throat.

$

“I’d like a small chai latte, extra hot please. And we’ll have a cake pop and some milk.”
“Chocolate milk Mommy.”
“Chocolate milk.”

The trio finished their snacks. Owen, being allergic to nuts, “!,” noshed on penguin crackers. Julie was just zipping them back into their winter coats when James looked up and said, “You know Mommy. I think we should just go to the Lego store one more time.”

So they did. Julie sipped her chai and watched Owen’s feet as they re-retraced their steps. James talked about @ and Legos and spelled all of the store signs as they passed. Owen mostly watched, with occasional fits of ^.

And by the time they got home it was lunch time. Mission accomplished.