Woo's Ween Weating Wy Wuffed Weppers?

Once upon a time there were five red peppers.  They lived in Maggie's crisper and were mostly content.  Then one day, they met some green onions, feta cheese, couscous, cannellini beans, oregano, garlic and a lemon and learned that life could be more than perfect temperature control.  So, they all spent some time together in a crock pot, and became all they could be.

Seven People Have a Lot to Say in the Woods

Hersey Lake has some beautiful trails.  We know because last week our family walked them...for three hours.  It was epic.  Frankly, Jared is the "everyone get your shoes we're going for a walk," parent.  I'm more "thank you for taking the kids I'd love a nap."  Now I know just how much I've been missing.  Everything smelled so good.  And the leaves were crunchy.  And there were birds, and squirrels, and tall, straight trees.  And we talked.

Confessing

I've been known to mention casually that, in high school I was an Atlantic Wrestling Champion.

I know.

I'm tough.

Of course, it was awkward to don spandex and step on a scale in front of hundreds of sweaty teenage boys. 

Maybe that's why no one in my weight class showed up.

Welicious Wugly Walafel

I am aware that this falafel sandwich does not look like anything much.  I may have added more parsley than the recipe actually called for.  Also I used cilantro instead of coriander.  I couldn't find a leaf of mint in our whole city.  That's ranch dressing, not tahini.  And those sesame seeds were probably not pre-toasted.  Maybe you wonder why I use a recipe at all.  Sometimes, I do too.  But then I realize that whatever it is I'm doing, it's working for me, because this ugly falafel sandwich was incredible!

Confessing

Even though I've been a parent for twelve years next week, I still can't seem to remember to check for clean faces, hands, socks, and shoes until we're in the van, on the way to church.

Remembering

When Hwin, the horse, meets Aslan, the lion, for the first time, she is afraid.  Yet she approaches him and says, "Please, you're so beautiful.  You may eat me if you like.  I'd sooner be eaten by you, then fed by anyone else."  It's my favourite scene from all The Chronicles of Narnia because it reminds me that I believe in sacrifice, and courage, and greatness.

In the Rain

Jared and I walked around the lake again today.  It's been drizzly this week, so we've gotten wet and cold, but the poor weather keeps most people at home and the trails are quiet.  There's something about the smell of the forest in the rain that gives me permission and worthiness and a spine and a smile.

Wankful Wor Wofurky

On Monday, I marked Thanksgiving with potatoes, squash, and, for the first time, Tofurkey.  I will not say that it was the best thing I have ever put in my mouth.  It was salty.  And squeaky.  But it was filling, gave me a good excuse to eat cranberry sauce, and, most importantly, complemented my traditional post-holiday breakfast hash--mushrooms, onions, leftovers sautéed in butter.

An Impression Is Made

I remember this time when life was heavy.  We'd been married for four years and we lived in a tiny apartment with our two-year-old and newborn.  Jared was in flight school and I was barely coping.  This one afternoon, we were quarreling about somesmallsomethingorother, when my high school boyfriend called.  He said he wanted to catch up.  We chatted.  I mentioned our two little girls, our stint teaching English in Taiwan, my husband and his Commercial Pilot's License, and then he said, "That sounds wonderful!" 

Ten years later, I still think of that comment and wonder how often the outsides of things match the insides of them.

Woasted Wauliflower Woup

I really love broccoli.  Carrots are wonderful.  But, I've always thought cauliflower boring...until now.  Roasted cauliflower is the best thing to come out of my oven in a long time.  It's better than fries, it's better than pizza, and it has more vitamins than burnt cookies.  Plus it makes great soup.

'Tis the Season To Be Jolly (I'd Settle for Not Nuts)

There are only seventy nine days until Christmas.  In that time, I hope to read a tonne of books (only forty-five to go), celebrate a bunch of holidays (thankful for veggie turkey), mark two birthdays (including my thirty-fourth), prepare for the Timmins Symphony Orchestra Concert (I'm in the choir), organise some activities for my church, lose ten pounds, save enough money to max out our RRSP contribution (kidding), keep the house clean (sanitary), get down to Toronto, feed, clothe, and educate my children, and not go crazy.  Here's my plan.

read a tonne of books	Make a reading list and work my way through it in my spare (HA!) time.
celebrate a bunch of holidays	"Sweetheart, the tofurkey is in the deli section, and there's box of stuffing and a can of cranberries in the cupboard"
mark two birthdays	Amazon.ca
prepare for the concert	Practice for twenty (ten) minutes, five (three) times a week.
organise some activities for my church	Delegate.
lose ten pounds	Laugh (it'll burn calories).
save money	Put my head in the sand.
keep my house clean	I had five children for a reason.
get down to Toronto	Hum and haw until it snows and our 'safe to drive' window closes (next week).
feed	Slow cooker freezer meals
clothe	If you can reach the dials (using stepstool), you can do your own laundry.
educate	Take an hour each Sunday afternoon (early Monday morning) to chart out the week.
not go crazy	Write goofy blog posts that minimize how anxious I really am at this time year, and accept myself exactly as I am right now (ashamed of whining).

Confessing

I have this conversation with Daniel almost every day.

"What sound does a kitty make?"

"Kitty, MEOW!"

"What sound does a puppy make?"

"Puppy, WOOF!"

"What sound does a horse make?"

"Horse, NEIGH!"

"What sound does a cow make?"

"Cow, NEIGH!"

We're working on that one.  Next, I usually ask, "What sound does a monster make?"

"Monster, ROARRRRRR!"

And this is the moment when I manipulate his tender emotions by pretending to be scared out of my mind.  It's only that he's so darling when he pats my back and says with concern in his voice, "It's just me! Just me!"

Fine, I Guess

I enjoyed this series.  It was easy and entertaining.  It's got me hungering for some Homer.  On the other hand, I can't say that I care that much about the characters, or even that I know them that well, I don't miss them, or wonder what they're doing now, I can't say that I learned that much from them, I'm not convinced we'd be best friends if only they got to know me.  In other words, they're no Jo March, Harry Potter, or Lucy Pevensie.

Multitasking

Today we learned about perseverance.  There may have been a few temper tantrums involved (one of them may have almost been mine).  There were certainly fine motor skills, and recognising patterns, and self-acceptance, and trying hard things, and apologies, and math, and laughter, and generosity, and second chances, and goofy jokes involved.  And the whole time, my children thought we were making beautiful paper bracelets (and one sweet pink crown).



*This post is part of a series.  I've set aside one afternoon  (or morning) a week to do fun activities with my children.  In an effort to work out why it both draws and repels me, I choose these activities from Pinterest.  This one comes from here, and I've pinned it here.*

A Post in Which I Explain Why All Seven of Us Want To Be in the Living Room All the Time

 This summer, I did a little painting.

 I used a magnetic primer, which I topped with chalkboard paint.

I'm really glad I did.

Life is better with full size unicorns,

and wiener dogs on skateboards.

Wot Woup With West

I've tended to think soup rather labour intensive.  And I suppose it can be, but this one wasn't.  About half an hour after I walked in from the cold carrying sacks of spinach, broccoli, lemons and cream, I was scraping the bowl.  It was delicious, and pretty, and warmed me right up...quickly.

Hannah and the Paradigm Shift(s)

On Sunday, I held Hannah's hand on the walk home from church.  As we (she) skipped along, I asked her playfully, "Hannah, how much do I love you?"

"A lot," she chirped.

"And what do I think of you," was my follow up.

"I'm cute and adorable."

Gulp.  Head whip.  Full stop.  Maybe calling her a cutie-little-fluff-ball has not been my best parenting move.  In my defense, she is cute and adorable...and so much more.

"You're right about that!  What else do I think?"

Shoulder shrug.

"Do I think you're smart?"

Smile.

"And strong?"

Giggle.

"And fun?"

"Yeah!"

"And funny?"

"Yup!"

"And brave?"

She paused before lisping, "But, I'm shy."

"It's okay to be shy.  Most people are shy sometimes.  You can be shy and brave at the same time."

Head nod.

"So what do I think of you?"

"I'm strong. And I really am strong.  I can lift stuff."

"That's a good point.  What else do I think?"

"I'm fun and funny."

"And?"

"I'm brave."

"And?"

"I farted."

Confessing

Elizabeth turned ten yesterday.  We celebrated with surprises and singing and ice cream and cake.  This cake.  In the photos it's lopsided and sloppy and I can tell you that it looked worse in person.  I could say that I slapped this thing together at the last minute.  But, I would be lying.  I spent over five hours making this cake.  It was so intense, that Beth actually thanked me for my 'investment.'  You're welcome, sweetheart.  Happy Birthday.

Reading Personally

Munro and Atwood explore people so thoroughly that I feel exposed in their words.  I would read anything they write.

Morning, Noon, and Night

This morning, I woke late.  The house was already in motion.  As I came downstairs, I saw little five-year-old Hannah sitting on a low stool holding Daniel on her lap and talking to him quietly about the day ahead , a calm centre.

As Jared and I were doing odds and ends around the house this afternoon, Jonah often found us to tell us about hatching fish.  He was given a package of eggs over the summer and he's been so excited.  Finally, he popped in to say, "I have something for you.  It's a triops."  He held out a little paper fish he'd drawn for us as a gift.

It was already evening when I turned to Mary, "If you hustle, you could do your math right now."  She responded quickly, "Good idea!"  Soon, Daniel was ready for sleep.  As I carried him upstairs, we heard voices from my room.  When Daniel saw Mary and Beth in my bed, he cheered.  They greeted him happily as he climbed under the covers with them.  Mary put her arm around him and continued her assignment, his curly head on her shoulder.

Wack Wean Woup Wand We--Wogether Wagain

I used to be a soup person.  Before I had children who hate soup, I ate soup all the time.  I loved the  whole process, the chopping, the simmering, the seasoning, the horfing.  At some point the soup person got left behind.  I found her today.  We made this soup.  We like it best with diced sweet potato.

Honestly

I'm taking an online course about Laura Ingalls Wilder (it's free and you can sign up here).  A theme from the first class was truth and whether it can differ from the facts.  I've always thought not.  Integrity is inspiring and honesty, essential.  But my wedding shower was more than fourteen years ago and I still wish that when my aunt gave me that funky, sparkly, bright yellow laundry hamper and asked with fingers crossed, "Do you already have one," I had fibbed and said, "No!  This is exactly what we need!  Thank you so much!"

True story.

Mostly.

Okay, so she didn't actually have her fingers crossed.

I'm working on it.

Confessing

Popsicles are great for mouths that are still sore a full week after wisdom teeth extraction.  They're not great for children.  They're just jewel toned chemicals mixed with high fructose corn syrup.  Talk about an easy way to spike blood sugar, ruin internal organs, rot teeth, make it hard to concentrate, increase risk of disease, and occupy valuable real estate needed for nutrients.

That's why I refused to share them.  I ate them all myself.

Some Whine To Go With That Cheese

So...I may have written prematurely about the loveliness of dental surgery.  Yes, my days have consisted of napping and pudding.  Yes, I've had zero responsibilities.  Yes, the only things I've had to say for myself are, "Bring me soup," "Go ask your dad," and, "If the cheese is added to the mashed potatoes at the very last minute, then it melts to the perfect gooiness." 

But my face is such a peculiar shape and colour that my children have actually lined up to look at it, "Can I poke it?"  I should be charging admission.  And I'm sore.  Really sore.  And I wanna chew something.  And I miss my teeth.