A Moment of Distraction

Let’s face it, life is busy. Not just for me, for most people I know. Especially this time of year, just go back and read any of my annual May posts. One in particular that I seem to respost each year is From Overwhelmed Parent to Grateful Parent because it holds up over time.  When you have children, especially those families with three or more little darlings things get a little, let’s use the word, chaotic in the spring.  For fun, throw in some additional and/or unexpected life events and crazy takes on a whole new level of meaning.

Due to my continued (albeit it not intentional) lack of regular postings, let me give you a brief recap.

• A puppy joined our household, Chip the Australian Labradoodle. He is loveable, goofy, sneaky and believes I am his bed or a cushion to sit on. It’s like having a toddler again.
• I took on some paid writing work.  A few wonderfully complimentary small business owners decided I was a good fit as a writer for hire for their online content marketing strategies. Blogging takes a back seat when paid work comes along as well as my more creative flights of fancy via short stories and editing a manuscript take off all at the same time.
• And the big one, THE MOVE. Because we are a little nuts, (after all who gets a puppy on labour day, right before all three kids go back to school full-time?), we have purchased a property on the other side of the province (Ontario). We decide to trade in our convenient and comfortable suburban life for a life in the country. Not too far away sit picturesque wineries and our new home is found along the shoreline of the gently lapping waters of the Bay of Quinte.
• My eldest daughter is going for day surgery (tonsils) and will be off school, at home recovering for at least a week.
• The kids are now ten, eight and five. If you have kids this age or have had kids this age, I do not need to write another word. You get it. If you’re kids are younger, just wait. You will soon learn the art of creative time management and juggling the demands of burgeoning little people with their own agendas.

As I swiftly change my hats faster than the Mad Hatter himself, I do try to slow down at times and enjoy moments of distraction. Right now basketball is a useful distraction for our whole family. It is huge in this part of the world and our whole family cheers when those Raptors sink another basket.

But the other thing I find helps is humour. Laughing at the absurdity of our crazy life is not unusual, but there are times when you realize you may be a little too distracted.

As a parent of three or more kids, I try not to take my kids grocery shopping with me. It is an ordeal, usually ending up with one kid trying to ride the shopping cart, another grabbing cookies and my voice in that special low growl that ensures their little hands are all affixed to the sides of the cart.  I often forget things if they are with me. So, you would think that grocery shopping would be a leisurely outing when I am on my own. Except, well see the above. Finding leisurely grocery shopping is a thing of my not so distant past. Oh sure, it will come again, but not right now. Right now it is all about survival.

So one afternoon about a week ago, I dashed into the grocery store noting (of course) that I had forgotten my list. I tried to rely on my lacklustre memory but all that came to mind were the dishes. I hate washing dishes by hand so yes, dishwasher tabs are a must. Even in my harried state, I always try to spot that special yellow or red tag that screams, “Sale! Buy me!” When I raced down the aisle, threw other random items into my cart, I spotted the  “Sale!” tag near the dishwasher tab section and grabbed an unfamiliar brand. “Oh well, it’s on sale.” I thought to myself. “It’s probably fine.”

Thinking nothing of it, I walked over to the cashier, paid and went home.

In our house, we keep our dishwasher tabs in a dark corner of the cupboard under the kitchen sink. We have to reach beyond the nearly full compost bin and grab the tabs from the bag or bucket each night.

After I arrived home, I threw the bag into the cupboard and went on my merry way.

It happened the first night. The dishes were still disgusting after the final wash cycle.

“What’s this?” Mr. L asked and held up a grungy glass.

“Hmm.not sure maybe the setting was on a quick wash. Run it again.”

We do that, over and over. The next load was a little cleaner but there were less dishes. We had spent a lot of time eating out over the weekend.

Sunday night. The dishes were supposed to be clean, after all it worked once, but they were still sort of grungy. “Maybe it’s the new dishwasher tabs, I got a new brand. Just use it and I’ll get a new one next time I’m at the store.”

I left Monday night for a mini trip to take pictures of our new rural digs and to order furniture. I arrived home Tuesday and my elder daughter, Elizabeth was unloading the dishwasher.

“Ewww.these are still dirty.” She shoved her small hands into the the large, yellow gloves not wanting to touch the clean/dirty dishes.

“Just leave the dirty ones.” I told her, tired and worn out after a very busy forty-eight hours.

Mr. L peeked at the dishes as well, and then at the unusually dirty dishwasher. “I hope it’s not the dishwasher.”

Remember, we are moving in six weeks.

Wednesday morning arrives. We tried to wash another load and this time, Audrey, the younger daughter was unloading the dishes.

“These feel gross.” She holds out a dirty knife like it was covered in something disgusting. I stood to the side, continued to cut up vegetables for their lunches, tried to organize my  day in my head, fed the dog and threw in some laundry.

“Just leave it. I’ll hand wash them.”

Later that day, when I finally got around to hand washing the dirty/clean dishes, I realized they were dirty, really dirty. The dishwasher soap in those little plastic tabs must be really bad. No wonder they were on sale. I managed to get out to the grocery store in the afternoon and picked up my regular brand. I was very happy, my regular expensive brand was on sale, score!

I got home, pulled out the not great dishwasher tabs from deep within the cupboard, and was ready to trash them when I actually stopped to read the bag.

Laundry Detergent. 99% natural ingredients. No perfumes. 

I bought laundry detergent tabs and have been using them in my dishwasher.

This my friends is the epitome of distraction and life’s wry sense of humour. Just when you pat yourself on the back on how well you are handling the chaos of life, you realize you not only bought laundry detergent instead of dishwasher detergent, but have been using it for the last six days.

Well, at least my kids will have no internal stains and the product was the most natural on the market.

Parents of three or more kids, find the humour. When life seems out of control, busy as hell just remember, at least you didn’t wash your dishes with laundry detergent today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Banana Bread Recipe

Long ago, on a hot summer afternoon in 2005, two professional young woman bantered back and forth on email trying to carve out and finish multiple conversations. One was on maternity leave, the other finding herself, working at a local arts council after leaving a stable corporate job.

Their emails were filled with affection and updates on their days, motherhood, marriage, gossip about friends and weekend plans.

Prior to the onset of civil pleasantries, a recipe for banana bread was shared. A no-fail recipe with chocolate chips. The receiver of the email (me) was spending some time honing her domestic cooking skills and asked one of the great bakers/cooks she knew, her friend L., for the recipe. Now, eleven years is a long time and I cannot remember if I had L.’s banana bread and that’s why the recipe was shared or I was just trying to fill up my empty cooking journal with something that was easy and delicious. Maybe it was because my partner, Mr. L, loves banana bread and I wanted to make something special. The reason is not very important really, what matters is that today, in February 29, 2016, that reciepe exists.

Folded neatly into a cooking reference book my grandmother made years ago to store recipe and meal ideas (perhaps hoping I would turn out to be a domestic wonder in the kitchen), the recipe comes out every so often. Still printed on the same paper, it brings a smile to my face each time I use it as I wonder if L. knows how much I reread one of our hundreds of emails to each other over the years and use this long ago shared recipe.

Just last week, I pulled the recipe out and asked myself,  “Why can’t I commit this recipe to memory?” After all, I’ve been making it for 11 years, yet, for some reason it will not stick in my brain. The banana bread produced each time has been a hit with my now three children, friends and family members. It is often requested by people who have tried it.

I realized at last, on a cold day last week, I really don’t want to memorize the recipe. If I did, that would mean I would have no need for the paper, or be able to read the email exchange written beneath. I wouldn’t smile remembering that person long ago who had just found out she was pregnant after a long year and a half of trying, had visited her friend L. and her little girl so happy for all of them and was just starting to orient herself in a new community. A woman nearing thirty who was battling tiredness, loss of appetite and the heat.

So instead, I kept it. I tried not to spill anything on it and as soon as I’m done it goes back into the special recipe binder. I have treasured this piece of paper and the person who took time out of her busy day as a new mama to send her friend a Banana Bread Email .

For those who want an easy, no-fail banana bread recipe, I give you my friend’s Banana Bread recipe. Take it from a parent of three or more kids, it is delicious and it is a keeper.

Banana Bread Recipe

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup butter

3/4 cup brown sugar

2 eggs, beaten

2 1/3 cups mashed overripe bananas (can substitute half with applesauce in a pinch, still tastes good)

Chocolate chips – optional – quantity determined as desired

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Lightly grease a 9.5 inch loaf pan. (I use butter but whatever you want.) In a large bowl, combine flour, baking soda and salt. In a separate bowl, cream together butter and brown sugar. Stir in eggs and mashed bananas until well blended. Stir banana mixture into flour mixture; stir just to moisten. Pour batter in prepared loaf pan. Bake in preheated oven for 60-65 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into centre of the loaf comes out clean. Let bread cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack.

Enjoy!

 

Birthday Musings

The past couple of weeks have been rather chaotic in our little world. Frankly, life since my last blog seems to be busier than normal, thus the long absence! But whose isn’t?

Regardless, here in Oakville, Ontario winter did not arrive these past few weeks. With stir crazy kids and temperatures fluctuating wildly between spring temperatures with frigid wind chills, we plugged along into the busiest time of year, birthday season.

With Mr. L’s and all the kid’s birthdays falling between the end of December and end of February, this time of year has its challenges, nothing a semi-organized mom of three or more kids cannot manage. See  my past post on Surviving Back to Back Birthdays.

This year Elizabeth turned ten and Audrey eight. Over the years we have tried to pare back the guest count. Last year Elizabeth had to choose her three best friends for a first time sleepover. Being a milestone year, it soared back up to seven. Amelia’s excuse for inviting ten of her friends to her party was that we are moving out of the area and this would be her last birthday with these friends. Parental guilt ensued and I found myself planning two back to back parties, again.

After much discussion and trying to ensure invites were sent out a few weeks in advance as per my comment on being a semi-organized parent, the plans were set in January. Tea party followed by laser tag for Elizabeth. Splatter paint party at a local Oakville art centre for Audrey. One at home, the other out. Perfect. Oh, and a sleepover with their BFF’s forever.

Birthday weekend started with Elizabeth on the Saturday. Mr. L started the morning with her requested Nutella and toast plus sausages for breakfast and asked me what the agenda was for the day. By the time I had outlined all the activities, I thought his head was going to explode.

“It will be fine.” I assured him shooing them all out of the door to their individual Saturday morning activities before birthday madness ensued.

Thanks to some smart planning and wonderful ladies, all the birthday planning was a breeze, okay maybe a bit of a windstorm, but a manageable one.

During a holiday event, I had the pleasure to meet Renee, or otherwise known as The Traveling Tea Lady. I enlisted her help in creating a perfect, not too girly tea event at our house for seven little ladies. Renee was awesome. Responsive and organized she helped me find last minute decorations that Elizabeth requested, made up small tins of her delicious gingerbread loose leaf tea for the loot bags and even gifted me with a new blend of her Stress Free Tea which I cannot wait to try! She arrived with lots of time to get ready, decorated our small dining area, made all the petite goodies, served the tea,  cleaned up all of it done with a smile.

In lieu of cake at tea time, Elizabeth requested cupcakes. Now I can make quick and dirty cupcakes, but she wanted something a little fancier. For this task I enlisted the help of Liana from Flavours Catering and Events in Oakville, Ontario. Having used her before, I was so happy with the twelve delicious chocolate and vanilla cupcakes she hand delivered to my house complete with mad hatter fondant icing.

Post tea time and gift opening, I chauffeured the girls to Laser Quest on the west end of Oakville. It was busy being a Saturday night but I had booked the party room. There was no wait for our turn, they made sure our food, coats and cake were all taken care of.  We had a large room, with all place settings ready to go, pizza hot and delivered on time for the kids. You bring your own drinks and cake. They also give the birthday child a free laser tag game and come in for a “Zappy Birthday” song sung by the enthusiastic host when it’s cake time.  Loud but fun.

Now laser tag isn’t for all kids, those who have photosensitivity or wary of dark places. We had one child that needed to be pulled which was done quickly and handled without incident. But for those who enjoy it, it’s a fun way to entertain a bunch of nine and ten year olds. Party one complete.

Back at the house, Audrey and her sleepover guest were waiting for us to return. Elizabeth and her sleepover guest (note one guest)  quickly changed into their pyjamas and the giggles, nail painting started while they watched Harry Potter, a current favourite on our screen.

Audrey’s big party was the next day. After a waffle filled breakfast, family started to arrive. Some were going to stay at our house while I took some to the art party. As happens, sometimes there is an after party, especially when you have people coming from an hour drive away. The day before we discovered we had almost twenty people coming back to our house after the art party. Thank goodness for online ordering where we got everything from pizza to chicken skewers to be delivered for those waiting the hour and a half for us to arrive with the guests of honour.

4Cats West is an art studio that we have frequented a lot over the years. Their birthday parties are a lot of fun, well organized and messy. What else do you want in a birthday party? Audrey chose the splatter paint party, and in lieu of loot bags, I opted to pay a little extra and each guest got to paint their own take home canvas with splatter paint as well. The end result will be a huge canvas, splatter painted with Audrey’s choice of colours to be hung on her wall. All her friends signed the back of it. What better present is there, especially when this is your last year with this bunch of kids?  The facility does not provide food, you bring everything yourself. They give you the space and entertain the kids for an hour while you set up.

The splattered faces and paint drenched hair were a testament to the fun the girls had. Amelia loved seeing her friends get all messy and I was privileged to get many shots of her genuine smile, something that is sometimes hard to catch.

Back at the house, we finished off the birthday marathon with more food, ice cream cake for both the girls, family wishing them well, more presents and play. My mudroom was a disaster thanks to a couple of rambunctious boys who needed backyard time. The toys littered the house. I’m still finding pieces of chocolate mashed on the floors. But it was a memorable weekend, filled with kind and professional people to help make my girls’ birthdays special. All happening on a quiet street in Oakville, Ontario.

As I sipped a well earned crisp white wine chatting with my family as the kids played, well all over the house, Mr. L was quick to point out that this was it. Our last birthday celebration in this house. For dear readers, we move this summer to a new area in Ontario. A place where I must seek out everything from where to get awesome cupcakes to what grocery store to go to ease birthday filled weeks for a mom to three or more kids.  I will need to find a new village.

My mother, (being a mom), pointed out now that it was all done, I survived another crazy December to February, wasn’t it time to start packing? Yes, it is. But looking back, it will be bittersweet when I start filling that first box. After all, I’ve met some great people here in Oakville, Ontario. I have found great small businesses to support, have the stores I frequent, made lots of great connections along the way. I will miss it.

 

 

Follow up to Open Letter to my children’s school board.

In the interest of complete transparency, here is a follow up to the situation in Ontario and our particular school board, the Halton District School Board. Although not exactly what I and many other parents are requesting, it is a step in the right direction. At least we will obtain our children’s grades. Below is an email sent out to all elementary school parents yesterday after a meeting with the Board of Trustees from the Director, Mr. David Euale.

I remain hopeful that communication to my children’s teachers will result in some tangible progress from the last report card before the last day of school as personally I would love to celebrate expected improvements and help prepare my children for the next school year.

June 18, 2015

Important Message for Families of Elementary Students:
Report cards to be provided for elementary students in SK – Grade 8

At the Halton District School Board meeting of June 17, trustees have supported the Director of Education’s recommendation to allocate up to $100,000 to secure assistance to input elementary student academic marks in the report card system.

Currently, public elementary teachers across Ontario are taking part in a legal strike. This action includes not providing report card comments and not inputting student marks/achievement levels electronically. The production of report cards for more than 40,000 Halton public elementary students relies on the inputting of this data by 2,700 teachers. Trustees had previously supported the concept that the data entry could not be managed by principal and vice-principals at this very busy time of year. Therefore, a commitment was made to have principals and vice-principals produce report cards only for students graduating from their schools. These report cards will be distributed on June 24th.

As a result of the approval of funds by trustees, during the summer, report cards for all remaining students in Senior Kindergarten to Grade 7 will be produced with subject grades/achievement levels and learning skills only (no comments). These will be made available from August 31- September 3 at the elementary school your child attended during the 2014-15 school year. Report cards not picked up will be mailed home to families.

The Ministry of Education indicated they could not provide special funding for this initiative. Therefore, we are very pleased that the Halton District School Board trustees chose to support this allocation of funds. This enhancement to our original plan allows for the equitable access to grades and learning skills for all elementary students for this school year.

For more information, please visit http://www.hdsb.ca

Sincerely,

David Euale
Director of Education
Halton District School Board

Remembering simple things

http://instagram.com/p/y224-MDZne/?modal=true

 

Sunday mornings.

I’m not sure how they work at your house, but it may go like this.

If we’re lucky and all three have slept in past 7:00 am, we all march with groggy faces downstairs and I start the coffee machine. It’s the one day of the week this militant mom allows her kids out of their rooms in the pyjamas before breakfast and they love it. If Mr. L and I are organized (50/50 chance) one of us is starting a family breakfast of pancakes or eggs while the other tries to fend off the hungry people from eating two bowls of cereal spoiling any chance of them eating the hot breakfast we slaved over.

Once breakfast is cooked, the kids gobble it up before both parents sit down and then rush off with a

“Sunday morning cartoons!!! WiiU!!”

In the meantime, two still not-quite awake parents look at each other and shrug and say, “It’s Sunday.”

Then a little while later, guilt sets in that we are lounging with coffees doing nothing while our kids are being babysat by Disney Junior. What ensues is kind of a ritualistic dance of  getting kids dressed, teeth brushed so we can get on with our day.

Yesterday, I discovered something my poor tired brain forgot. Once upon a time, we got a weekend paper. Being an old soul, I still prefer the sound of a morning paper crackling versus the hum of the computer to catch up on current events. However, as most parents realize, trying to leisurely read a weekend newspaper is pointless with three young kids running amok. Our recycling bin was full of unread wasted print so we stopped our subscription.

By chance, I had acquired this long forgotten treasure the day before while going through the McDonald’s drive-through. (Before you judge, you wake up and get two kids to dance class for 9 am on a Saturday with a third kid in the van who has the stomach flu and may or may not throw up and you would be wanting an Egg McMuffin too! Besides, haven’t you heard those new radio ads stating how few calories there are in this breakfast item?) Well, free weekend newspapers were given to patrons. Score! (Anything free is a score.)

Of course, I couldn’t read the paper on Saturday. Saturday is activity day and playdate day and catch up on chores and well, you get it. The list goes on. Regardless, I was thinking the paper although welcome, would be another item to recycle this week. Until Sunday morning came.

This particular Sunday morning, because I’m kind of crazy like that, I signed the kids up for ski lessons. With a late start to winter, and having kids who picked up this winter sport last year, I made the parental decision to take them an hour drive away each Sunday for the next six weeks for ski lessons.  Mr. L works part of the day anyway, so why not? We don’t have to leave super early, but we do need to get a move on cutting into coffee drinking and cartoon watching time.

Being a little more organized than usual yesterday, I had all our gear packed and we had a little extra time. I was expecting the usual, “Can we watch TV?” However, something amazing happened. I forgot my girls know how to read. When we used to get the weekend paper, they were a couple of years away from wonderful life skill. Now as I tried to sit and actually read the paper at the breakfast table, they both looked with wonder at this relic until Elizabeth piped up,

“Do you remember you used to read me the comics? They were funny.”

That’s right! I would choose a kid-friendly comic and read it to my blossoming eldest child.

Digging through the pages of news and entertainment I found them. The four-colour processed weekend comic section.

“Here. You can read it yourself now.”

Grabbing it, she dived right in. Then her younger sister said,

“Me too?”

Splitting the pages I was awe-struck. We were sitting together, in relative peace on a Sunday morning enjoying a simple pleasure. A Norman Rockwell moment! They were chatting about what they found funny. Switched sections with no arguments. There was no mention of watching cartoons. Why would they? They were reading cartoons. Only the murmuring sounds of little voices as they read the ones they understood and asked me about the phrases with a satirical bent which I tried to explain in a kid-friendly way was heard.

How little it takes to fill a parent’s heart with joy and how quick a new tradition starts.

 

Exhaustion Sets In

November. How did it get to be November?

That question is what everyone is asking. I’ve gotten so used to people stating out loud wherever I go that they cannot believe how fast time is flying that my response is automatic in nature.

“Yes, it is. Crazy eh?”

Although personally I don’t think life is moving any faster than last year. Life has moved fast since I had kids. Sure there are slower periods but generally, the last nine years have sped by faster than my poor tired brain can process. I think anyone with school age children will tell you that generally September and October are a blur. Now it is November. November is the “quiet” month. Or it should be. It is the month of waiting. Waiting for winter to start. Waiting for ski season. Waiting for the beloved craziness of holiday season. However, when you have three or more kids, quiet is a term not often used at any point in the year and waiting is a word not one person in my family likes to hear.

My theory is, November is also the month to recuperate. Recuperate from Halloween and wean ourselves off unnecessary but beloved treats. Rejuvenate from late nights and trick or treating with a coffee and irish cream in hand. Rest from the onslaught of cold and flu season hoping it all passes before December. Rest. What a lovely word. One of my favourite words and a concept foreign I am not sure what it means.

Halloween was a Friday night this year. A fun night, albeit cold and a bit rainy, our costumes this year were well suited. We were the candy family. All three kids wanted to be M&Ms, two greens and a blue. But easy costumes to put overtop of layers of clothes or warm jackets meaning we didn’t have to stuff them with the huge mound of cotton batting I had desperately searched for the week before. It also meant two things for our household. The kids had school and Halloween parties, so they were exhausted. But being good sports, we had dinner (hot dogs upon request) and chocolate cupcakes and off we went. Halloween with three kids means both parents go out. All the preparations and decorating that I did were for our own amusement as we placed a candy bowl on the front steps with a note to please use the honour system and take one or two candies. We were off off quickly joined by our regular neighbourhood crew, all sporting rain jackets and umbrellas. But the kids didn’t care, running with abandon down the quiet streets, all we could hear were their voices carrying in the night air, “Trick or Treat!”

Kandy Korn witch and her M&M children. Halloween 2014

 

Jacob, not to be outdone this year, waddled from house to house leaving one of his friends behind so he could be with the big kids.  I couldn’t blame him and stopped reminding him to wait for his friend about halfway through when my spiked coffee ran out and I realized how cold it truly was outside. An hour later, Jacob, having opted to forgo the “scary house” looked up at us with his little cheeks bitten with drops of cold rain and said, “I’m done. I’m tired. Can I go home?” Screams from his sisters resulted. “We’re not done yet!!! It’s early. It’s a Friday night!”

Mr. L and I played rock, paper, scissors and I lost. Feeling my active, phlegm-soundin cough resuming I tried my best to look pathetic and thankfully, Mr. L (who had scored a refill from a neighbour on the drink) told me to I could go home, he would take the girls further around the block. Bless him!

So, Jacob and I ran home as the raindrops grew bigger just in time to dole out candy to the onslaught of kids. He thought it was great and he tossed in handful after handful into waiting bags. Rejuvenated, he tore off his costume (showing his glow in the dark skeleton shirt) and declared he was sitting on our stairs to wait for more kids. Thank goodness. It allowed me to peel off my damp clothes and change into snug dry ones and sit, blowing into a kleenex. A half hour later, the kids stopped coming and we started to go through his candy. The little helper deserved a treat. The girls and Mr. L arrived, soaked but happy. As I made hot chocolate for everyone, the kids declared it was the best Halloween ever. Exhausted Mr. L and I high-fived each other trying to convince them that it was time for bed. I shut down the house blowing out the jack o lanterns and shutting off the lights, we showered and changed our candy children back into regular little kids and I piled the wet costumes in the mud room and closed the door. By 9:00 pm we were settled on the couch, Mr. L snoring while I tried to watch a scary movie. A Halloween tradition.

The rest of the weekend was a blur. The damp night had turned my cough into a full-blown sinus cold sapping whatever energy stores I had in reserve. I know the kids got to their activities and I started writing attempting to participate in NaNoWriMo 2014 with a fuzzy head deciding best to start and try to make sense of what I wrote later drinking a lot of coffee which did nothing to help. Exhaustion set in. That along with red wine at a family dinner Saturday night meant I was toast the rest of the weekend.

From jazzlinguist.blogspot.com

 

By Sunday morning, I was happy the kids had their iPads to keep them busy while I dozed on the couch trying to figure out the bare minimum to be done that day and hoping my ears would clear so I could hear. Mr. L had thankfully taken one kid to work with him. When you have three or more kids, any help in keeping one occupied makes those hours a little more manageable.

As Mr. L returned from work on Sunday afternoon, he announced he had errands to run but to be glad, because he was taking the girls. Awesome. Jacob and I dressed for the outdoors enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Thankfully, our neighbours were also out and he was happy playing with his friend while I mindlessly chit-chatted. Afterwards, we cleaned up the rest of the backyard, getting the kid’s playhouse ready for winter and putting toys back inside the house that had mysteriously made their way to our backyard. The fresh air helped clear my head, for a bit and just as we finished, I heard the girls calling from inside the house.

“Mom!! We’re home. Come inside now.”

I yelled back, “Just a minute, my arms are full of your toys.”

“No Mom! Leave it! Come now!”

Curious, I climbed down the ladder heading into our kitchen. Jacob had already plunged inside dropping his muddy boots and gear all over the kitchen floor. Then I saw it. The girls stood with wide grins holding a carrier case.

“Happy early birthday!!”

A tiny noise emanated from the cage and a pink nose peeked out. “Meow?”

Tickled pink grabbing a tissue to blow my nose hoping it will clear my head for a moment, I looked up at Mr. L (the acclaimed cat hater) who shrugged.

“You said it was too quiet here with Jake gone. She is your present from the kids. The girls picked her out.”

As I scooped out a tiny, ten week old gray and white kitten who won me over as she nuzzled into my neck I blew kisses of gratitude to my crazy family.

Then it hit me. A kitten.

Exhaustion set in.

Sally the kitten.

 

Celebrating a new year!

Shana Tova!! Happy New Year! Well, happy Jewish New Year.

A time to reflect, celebrate and wish one another well. Summer passed by in a nomadic blur leaving little time to write. The beginning of September rushed through in a whirlwind of checkered backpacks and multi coloured labels affixed to the clothing of my three children.

Yes. It is official. I am now the proud owner of six free hours, five days a week! Until one of said kids takes ill and then my time vanishes in a puff of smoke replaced by mommy cuddles, thermometers and humidifiers. But I digress.

Rosh Hashanah.

Another year. Another celebration.

Being part of an interfaith marriage, we proudly embrace and celebrate the plethora of Judea-Christian traditions. People enjoy coming to our house between mid-September until the end of December, as we always seem to have a holiday going on. It may be apples and honey one week followed closely by gourds decorating the house and turkey cooking in the oven. Halloween follows close behind until we sprint towards Hanukah and Christmas with eyes closed praying we did enough, ate somewhat healthy and made more memorable moments with our darlings.

This year, for the first time in our twelve plus year marriage, I am responsible for the entire menu and cooking for Rosh Hashanah dinner. (Thank goodness it isn’t Passover!) When I first agreed to take it on, I thought, Pshaw! Some fish. Some chicken. Some honey cake. How hard can it be?

Oh vey!

Well, perhaps hard is not the correct word. It is always hard the first time you do something new. But with it comes a rich learning experience that I chose to undertake.

Twas the night before Rosh Hashanah and all through the house, sweet smells were like manna so even a mouse, would come out of its corner to partake in the crumbs, leftover from mom’s attempt to bake honey cake for our tums.

I churned. I measured. I dropped flour all over the countertop. But, the night before Rosh Hashanah, the traditional honey cake was placed into a pre-heated oven. Was it well-organized meal planning that drove me to make the honey cake the night before? Of course not! I had to be sure it was edible so I had time to go try and find honey cake in our suburban west end neighborhood well removed from traditional Jewish bakeries of the Toronto area.

As the cake baked, the tantalizing smells of cloves, cinnamon and honey wafted through the house as I researched the rest of our dinner menu.

Honey glazed chicken thighs.
Fish (With head attached. As I forget every year, a whole fish is presented at the table to represent the Rosh (Hebrew for head). Thank goodness Mr. L reminded me a couple of days ago.)
Vegetables
Salad
Potatoes and carrots in a glazed honey sauce
Apples and honey
Challah
Chocolate glaze for honey cake

Not too much but enough variety for our family of five with all traditional elements accounted for.

My to-do list grew longer and longer as I tried to figure out my prep time and cooking time to ensure each dish was not sitting too long outside the oven.

The timer for the prized cake went off somewhere before midnight and not to brag, but even I was impressed with how nice it looked. I swatted Mr. L’s hand away but his excellent basketball moves enabled him to catch a few crumbs. The impressed look on his face warmed this newbie baker’s heart.

Honey Cake

The day of Rosh Hashanah arrived and in a tizzy I realized I had offered to volunteer at my girls’ school that morning. Making a quick grocery list with a cup of coffee in one hand and shooing three kids to their respective bus stops with my feet (as I didn’t have a hand free) I wrote down all elements of my menu not yet purchased.

My main concern. Where to get a whole fish? Some grocery stores carry them and some do not. Although we eat fish in our house on a rotating basis once a week, I am quite content with our fish guy at our regular supermarket that gives me the little extra big salmon fillet because he knows my kids eat a lot. I did not think ahead to ask them to ensure to have whole fish, with head attached ready for me.

Raking my brain, a visual image hit me of another local grocery store, visited once in awhile and conveniently near the school. The image of fish on ice. Fish eyes staring at me as the kids ogled the live fish tank. Live fish tank meant whole fish for sale.

After checking in books and trying to maintain order of a class full of grade one kids at the school library, I drove to the grocery store forgoing the cart stomping right to the fish department. Passing the bakery on the way, I affirmed what I suspected. Yes, they had fresh Challah. But if there were no fish, there would be no shopping for me at this store.

Walking up to the counter my shoulders sagged in relief. There, behind the smudged glass laying on a blanket of ice staring at me in all their dead eyed glory were numerous types of whole fish. Snappers. Sea bream, Flounder. Mazal Tov!
Quick turn of the heel and I briskly strode to get the cart. I was now committed.

Challah please. Check.

Two snappers please. Wait. You have to what? Clean them up for me? They’re not clean already? Okay. Snip, gut and wash. Thank goodness I didn’t have to do that! The fish, named Charley and Sam, were mine. Check.

Chicken. Check. Apples Check. Honey. Check.

Down my list I went throwing in a few extra items here or there until my shopping was complete in less than a half hour. Record time.

Back home I carefully paced the remainder of the day between cooking and other errands until it was time to pick up the kids from school. I wasn’t making bad time. But it was with much relief when Mr. L walked through the door before 4:00 pm (unheard of most days) to relieve me of kid duty so I could focus on the food.

As each dish was ready, I realized I was kind of enjoying myself. I was learning to cook new things. The house smelled divine and I was helping our family celebrate an important Jewish holiday.

There are those times in your life when in one moment you are proud of something you accomplished. It may not be a huge thing or perhaps it is. For me, I had a moment like that last night as I presented the Rosh Hashanah feast to my family. I know Mr. L appreciated the effort, the kids ate almost everything, (Well we couldn’t convince them on the fish with the heads on but I don’t blame them.) and we had them tucked into bed just as tired eyes were rubbed and yawns imminent.

We may not have the most observantly Jewish Rosh Hashanah dinner, but it worked for our family and all the components were there. As a mom of three children and half of an interfaith partnership some people ask,

“Aren’t you concerned the kids will be confused?”

My answer to them, look at what they gain. They gain a rich, diverse experience that will enable them to think in on a more global scale. Having exposure to both our familial religions will free them from the binds of archaic practices enabling them to intelligently celebrate whatever holidays they identify with, in whatever way they deem fit. My hope is that they will empathize with people from whatever culture or religion they are. Tolerance, acceptance and compromise are blessed traits to possess. So is the ability to see the world in a bigger picture than beyond your own cultural schema. So, if I need to buy a fish head or two and learn how to cook a Rosh Hashanah meal to enrich my children’s understanding of the world they will inherit, than I will happily comply. (And enjoy eating a kick-ass honey cake. Recipe below.)

Regardless of how you celebrate this holiday, I think we will all be blessed with a sweet, successful year ahead.

Shana Tova!

DEFINITIVE MOIST AND MAJESTIC HONEY CAKE *Want to take this opportunity to mention I found this recipe on a great website called, www.interfaithfamily.com in an article by Linda Morel

By Marcy Goldman (www.betterbaking.com)

“Like most honey cakes, this can be made days ahead.”

3 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup honey
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
4 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup warm coffee or strong tea or Coca-Cola
1/2 cup fresh orange juice
1/4 cup rye or whiskey (or substitute orange juice or coffee)
1/2 cup slivered almonds

This cake is best baked in a nine-inch angel food cake pan, but you can also make it in one nine- or 10-inch tube or Bundt cake pan, a nine-by-13-inch sheet cake, or two five-inch loaf pans.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly grease pan(s). For tube and angel food pans, line the bottom with lightly greased parchment paper, cut to fit. Have ready doubled up baking sheets with a piece of parchment on top.
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, cloves, and allspice. Make a well in the center. Add oil, honey, white sugar, brown sugar, eggs, vanilla, coffee, tea, or cola, orange juice and rye or whiskey.
Using a strong wire whisk or in an electric mixer on slow speed, stir together well to make a thick, well-blended batter, making sure that no ingredients are stuck to the bottom.
Spoon batter into prepared pan(s). Sprinkle top of cake(s) evenly with almonds. Place cake pan(s) on two baking sheets stacked together. (This will ensure that cakes bake properly.)
Bake until cake springs back when you gently touch the cake center. For angel and tube cake pans, 60-80 minutes; loaf pans, about 45-55 minutes. For sheet-style cakes, baking time is 40-45 minutes.
Let cake stand 20 minutes before removing from pan.

The Home Stretch

Deciding to celebrate the summer solstice this year with a coupe of like-minded friends, five sleeps before our BIG family trip, we had a half-pack of kids and six adults enjoying one of the nicest days so far in our area. The weather wasn’t too hot, but the sun was wonderful. It cooled down as the adults began to eat and the kids were changed into jammies and persuaded to go downstairs to our rec room for a movie and popcorn night. Mr. L thought I was crazy.

“You’re wasting a whole Saturday getting ready for this.”
“Yes, but all the yard work that needs to get done before we leave is now complete. The house is relatively clean and I’m using up some of the food, wine and beer we have on hand.”

What I didn’t add was that I needed an adult only patio night before the onslaught of last week of school activities plus getting ready for our BIG trip. I knew no matter what, even with oodles of time, I wasn’t packing up our brood until at least a couple of days before and I would pull all nighters if I had to. We have traveled enough at this point that I know how I work. Better under pressure and doing things at the last-minute. I make lists in my head and on my phone to give me a guideline, but really it usually all comes together with a little coffee, little wine and a little crazy.

It was a lovely and well-deserved evening with a couple of good friends. Our kids all get along and each of ours had an age appropriate playmate. They watched two movies and we all settled back taking in the longest day of the year until the mosquitos chased us indoors. Jacob fell asleep on the couch (a first), Audrey and her friend were the night owls but all in all, a good night.

 

Summer Solstice

Sunday was a blur from the late night on Saturday. One jazz recital and piano recital later and huge thank you to a mother-in-law taking the three year-old for the day, I learned never say no to a free offer to babysit if it makes your life easier, especially with three or more. Mr. L and I were amazed how easy it was with just two kids! We both had fifteen minute naps and they did, whatever. (I think they drew pictures but nothing was destroyed and they weren’t glued to the tv.) A mini break from the chaos we generally survive in.

But it gave me some good ammunition to face Monday. D-day when I know I am in crunch time. I see other parents cringe when they ask if I’m all packed and I shrug and say, “Not really.” But little do they realize I do have a plan, a sprint to the finish line! Just today I managed to get all the teacher’s gifts (Thank you LCBO gift cards!), fit in a yoga class, daily clean-up the house, get to a kindergarten end of year celebration, write this blog piece and down a cup of coffee. Next, luggage out and hit the drug store for my items before end of day and thrown a load of laundry. (Right, that’s what I have to do, unload the laundry and make dinner.) I look towards the goal, golden beaches and time with my family. No matter how crazy the next few days get, I will try to keep that in mind and let go of the mommy guilt if my kids are eating hot dogs again and watching a tv show so I can throw carry-on items in a suitcase.

 

Audrey Kindergarten Celebration

After all, if I’m going to write about living in organized chaos, I should at least live it to the fullest.

Part of the conversation

Unsure if I am able to get to any updates for the next couple of weeks as I go into last-minute crazy times before school ends while packing for our family vacation, I cannot resist posting about one of the funniest things I have seen in a while.

After the girls’ piano lessons, the three amigos had a bit of free time while I diligently sorted the out of control mismatched sock pile. With the sunshine making it harder and harder to get the kids to bed before 8 pm, my tiredness of being on a set schedule, less homework to deal with, I am descending into summer mode.

The most tell-tale sign is that dinnertime has become much more relaxed the last couple of weeks. The kids are lucky to get a hot home-cooked meal. I am just simply, done for the school season. For example, tonight the choice on the menu is cheesy scrambled egg wraps or leftover spaghetti and meatballs. The kids choose the egg wraps.

Usually a strict 5:30 pm dinner time is being pushed later and later to 6:30 pm to coincide with Mr. L arriving home so I have some back-up as my voice has gone hoarse from telling my crew to please use their utensils, stop speaking all at once and just please, have a pleasant meal.

But I digress, deciding to attack the sock pile, I hate leaving tasks half-finished and vowed to get it done before I began the dinner dance. The kids run upstairs enjoying the free play time and right away the girls start pulling out stuffed animals from their toy chests, under their beds or whatever corner they have been hiding.

“Mom!! Guess what I found? Remember this bear?”

“Mom!! It’s Sweet Pea! I missed this one so much!!”

“That’s nice girls. You know all of that needs to be sorted and cleaned up before dinner?”

Before I know it, they are self-organizing their stuffed animals into keep, giveaway and put away in toy chest piles.

Hmmm…Maybe they were actually listening the four or five times a year I go on a rampage organizing their rooms.

Ten minutes later as they finish up a quick sorting, the joy and observation ability of the third, younger sibling shows itself. Jacob starts pulling all the stuffed toys from his overflowing toy box bringing each one downstairs.

“Mom! Look. I love her. It’s Sweet Pot.”

Five stuffed animals later, he settles upon a soft, blue bear he got as a present when he was born and has not looked at in his three years on earth.

“Mom! Look it’s Sweet Pot Pot. She is my favourite. She is very blue. She’s going to stay with me forever.”

I am going to dread going up to his room after dinner but I smile as I shoo them all downstairs to tidy up before dinner.

“She’s lovely Jacob. Sweet Pot Pot can help you tidy up your toys.”

Having three or more means accepting once one starts something, be it crazy laughter, sorting stuffed animals or eating with their hands, the other kids will follow. It also means allowing yourself to laugh as your cute three-year old boy, innocently copies his older sisters as they obsess over their hundreds of stuffed animals just so he can be part of the conversation.

Silence is Golden

This past weekend I had the pleasure of spending one on one time with a single child in my clan. It was a tiny glimpse into another life where I had one child. And that one child was easy and quiet. The kind of kid other people rave about and who puts together puzzles in an airport instead of running up and down the aisles of seats waiting to board. It was one of those fairytale moments this mom of three imagines during the chaos that determines my life. Perhaps in that afternoon, I did have one favourite child, my middle child, Audrey. Yes, the typically emotional firecracker turned into every parent’s dream child.

It all started when Mr. L, looking at the beautiful forecast for the weekend, casually asked if we should accept an invitation to his business partner’s newly purchased lake house. A beautiful home on the shores of Lake Simcoe. But alas, Audrey had jazz class and with an upcoming recital and could not afford to miss a class. There was also a playdate scheduled for Audrey and one of her little BFF’s to make-up a long ago almost forgotten birthday party that I have been trying to plan since February.

“Let’s just go after jazz class.” Mr. L says.

“Would love to, but it took me forever to find a date and the school year is almost done. Audrey has been looking forward to it for days. I can’t cancel.” I respond shaking my head, firm in my belief it is important to teach our children the importance of keeping their commitments.

“Ask Audrey.” He says. “I bet she would rather go up to the lake house.”

“No.” I respond annoyed. “I’m not putting that on her. She shouldn’t have to decide between a friend and family. She’s six.” Then inspiration hits, “Why don’t you just go up with Elizabeth and Jacob? They have nothing planned for the day. We’ll divide and conquer.”

He likes the idea and makes plans to go.

Saturday morning arrives. I help get them ready throwing bathing suits, life jackets and pyjamas in a knapsack for him to take. Audrey and I bid them goodbye and settle into the rest of our day.

I let Audrey know I have to do a few chores and then we can go for a bike ride together. She happily agrees and before I know it, she is reading, quiet as a mouse on our couch. Silence. There is no chattering, no kids running laps around our kitchen/dining room as I try to guide them to the backyard, no requests for never-ending snacks, no clicking of keys tapping on Mr. L’s iPad or ever-present blackberry. There is only pleasant and welcome silence. I check in with her,

“Are you okay honey?”

“Yep.” She buries her head back into her book.

The morning passes and miraculously I get most of my chores done stopping to check on Audrey who reads, plays with her toys or colours only asking once what she can do and agrees to help me dust while I crank up the radio.

We head out for a bike ride, racing around the neighbourhood enjoying the sunshine together. I can’t remember the last time I spent a whole day with such a pleasant child!

Lunch passes quickly as we head to Audrey’s jazz class, stop and get groceries before heading home. Typically I avoid grocery shopping with the older kids and definitely not with all three. But with just her and I, there is no child touching every single item in the grocery story or preschooler asking over and over when is he getting a snack. She helps me find our items and I drive back home finishing up a few chores, shower and take Jake the dog for a walk before her scheduled dinner/playdate with her friend.

Audrey is so relaxed, my lovely cherub-cheeked girl falls asleep on the couch while I’m showering  This is a first for both of us. Me that I had an uninterrupted shower on a weekend and her having a nap during the day. I know she is her mother’s daughter, likes a good nap but I have only seen her actually have one when we’re on vacation and enforce mandatory afternoon rest time for the whole family.

The rest of the evening passes like a dream. Dinner out is manageable and without my attention divided between three of my own kids, I laugh and giggle as the two six-year olds try to drink their milkshakes out of curly straws. Afterwards, Audrey and her friend run around an empty indoor playground playing pirates and princesses.

Audrey and friend

 

I realize a few things throughout this luxurious day.

One. I am in danger of having a favourite child. At least for the moment. Audrey is so easy compared to the other two chattering squirrels when she is on her own. She basks in the one on one attention and it brings out her best qualities. She doesn’t ask a million questions. She is happy to go along with whatever I am doing. She is a champion cuddle-monkey and content to sit outside in silence together having a cup of juice and a snack. She is still. I have one of those kids I dream about. I just never realized it.

Remember, this is the girl (if you’ve read past posts) that has temper tantrums, has trouble keeping her temper, is emotional and in some ways I would classify as my most challenging child. She is also the one I’ve spent a lot of time talking to, explaining about words are better than actions, helping find calm down strategies.  Do I dare and hope that my years of work with her have helped her in some way or that as some people said, age and time would help or perhaps a bit of both? It took a day on our own for me to realize how far she has come from the firecracker of unpredictable behaviour of only a year and a half ago.

Today, all of those things were non-existent. We had a pleasant day, one of those days where you realize you know parts of your child’s inner workings, but when you have three or more, you don’t get to see the breadth of their own unique little personalities until you get that one on one time. When her brother and sister are around, she feeds off their tendency towards hyperactivity and tries to keep up sometimes unable to control the roller coaster ride of emotional stimuli she is exposed.

Two. She is more like me than I imagined. Which means I know that a day off once in a while for her, where the house (her favourite environment) is quiet and still is nourishment for her soul. A day where she can nap on a couch without siblings crawling over her asking when do they get to play their iPads is as welcome to her as it is to me.

Third. To cherish this special time where her and I can simply be content in loving silence holding hands while we both look at the blue skies above enjoying the golden silence.