The Carol

Music can be a powerful force.  Certain songs stop us in our tracks, cause intense flashbacks that are more physical than thoughtful, fill our bodies with overwhelming emotion that threatens to betray our most intimate memories. 

For me that song is a particular Christmas carol, the title of which I will not reveal out of respect for my heart.  I have an almost allergic reaction to this song, meaning that I have no mental control over the feelings it evokes.  If it pops up on the radio while I'm playing with the kids or engaged in a conversation I stand a chance of distracting myself from its power.  But if I hear the song in any venue in which I am obliged to pay attention - a holiday concert, for instance - I'm totally screwed. 

My reaction to said Christmas carol first appeared three years ago.  I had had a pregnancy that year but miscarried at twelve weeks.  I had carried the baby long enough to feel like a mother and to look like a mother-to-be.  My due date was Christmas day. 

Any woman who has lost an unborn child carries in her heart the imprint of a soul only she knew.  
 The experience made me stronger and more fragile and certainly more vulnerable.  Now a Christmas carol triggers an explosion of emotions. 

This year it happened at Symphony Hall at the holiday family concert.  I took my oldest son and we had a grand time and at the end of the show was a sing-a-long - the worst case scenario for surviving my Christmas carol.  As hundreds of families began to sing together, I felt the familiar surge of grief.  But, as my eyes filled with tears, I noticed a second emotion creeping in.  I thought of my son curled by my side who was finally old enough to attend this wonderful concert.  I thought of  my fat, healthy twin toddlers who weighed under five pounds just a year ago.  The song still provoked overwhelming feeling but for the first time the old grief was balanced with simple, powerful gratitude.

happy holidays from our family to yours

Just a Few Thanks

Thank you Friends and Family.  Obviously.  But still top of the list!

Thank you California weather.  You have saved us a fortune on coats and boots.

Thank you Waiters at Favorite Restaurant for always seeming glad to see us.  

Thank you re-runs of Family Ties.  I am finally catching up on missed childhood TV.

Thank you Podcasts for keeping me company during many long nights.  I owe what's left of my intelligence to your creative and informative programs.

Thank you Crayola for your fine non-toxic products especially the yellow crayon for which Bea has a particular taste.

Thank you Disposable Diapers.

Thank you Target for stocking everything under the sun and for your convenient location on my way home from work.  Your brightly lit aisles are an island of sanity.

Thank you Ms. Debbie for being a teacher.

Thank you Coffee.    then      Thank you Beer.

Thank you Children's Tylenol.

Thank you Iphone.  I resisted your sweet embrace until you were forced upon me.  Now I don't remember life before you.

Thank you Walgreens for being open until midnight.  What would we do without your humidifiers and anti-itch ointments?

Thank you husband.  You're a good friend and a good daddy.

Thank you Netflix for providing Peace on Earth and to All a Good Night. . .

Stone Soup

Due to an unfortunate virus, Joe Frank was obliged to miss an important event at Kindergarten today: 

The Making of Stone Soup.

He was so disappointed to miss out that I suggested we make it at home.  Unfortunately, this particular recipe is not part of my usual repertoire.  I knew it had something to do with rocks and something to do with a story but that was the extent of my know-how. (Despite Joe's cryptic impressions of his days at school, he is perpetually frustrated with my lack of knowledge on subjects such as stone soup.)

So I Google-ed it and found a selection of recipes.  Thank you Internet!  You have saved my credibility for another day. 

It does indeed involve a rock.  And it does indeed have a lovely Thanksgiving story (though I'm still fuzzy on those details).  The best part was that Joe Frank ate the healthiest meal he's had in a week, all because he cooked it himself. 

Boiling the rock and browning the onions.

Peeling the Carrots

Simmering the soup with the rock

Parental Confession #12

In the thirty second between removing Alfie's diaper and putting him in his nightly bath, he escaped from the bathroom, pooped on the floor, and peed INTO the toy box.

Did I swear profusely and hurl all the pee toys down the stairs?

Yes I did.

Did I attack my husband with a wet washcloth when he pointed out the error of my ways?

Yes I did.

Sunday morning

This morning I told Joe Frank I was going to sit down, drink coffee and read the Sunday paper while the babies took their nap.   I told him he could do anything he wanted as long as he did it by himself. 

He chose to bring out the MIDI keyboard and play the Christmas music loop for half an hour. 

When you have three kids you have to modify your expectations of "peace and quiet".  In a nutshell, the "peace" rarely comes with the "quiet." 

So, if I have to listen to a medley of electronic holiday favorites in order to read my paper, so be it. 

Knife Skills

One of the things I love about our local school system is the cooking and gardening program.  As an effort to fight obesity and educate students about healthy food, the PTA funds weekly classes in which kids plant seeds in school gardens, collect eggs, pick tomatoes, and prepare healthy meals.

The flip side of this wonderful program is that my son came home from Kindergarten and announced he had learned how to use knives (real knives, not butter knives.)

He wanted to prepare the special dish he had learned for dinner tonight.  He was so proud to show me his new knife skills that I couldn't say no.  I mean, I don't want to contradict his teachers and I certainly need to be supportive of school, right?

So, we went to the market and bought pears, persimmons, figs, and pumpkin seeds.  I put off the preparation as long as possible but dinner inevitably arrived so, finally, I reluctantly handed a freshly sharpened paring knife to my five-year-old son.

This must be how it feels to get in the passenger seat with your teenager at the wheel.

Well, I am pleased to say we enjoyed a lovely Autumn fruit dish tonight and my kid still has all ten fingers.

I can't wait to see what he learns next week.  Sky diving, perhaps...

Babyproofing

As a parent, there is no limit to what you can spend for a little peace of mind.  I recently read a negative review for a baby-proofing company in which the parents were upset because they paid $1000 for nothing but a toilet clamp, a couple plug covers,  and a broken baby gate. 

First of all, I didn't know baby-proofing companies were actual businesses. 

Second of all, if someone paid me $1000 to baby-proof their home I would bolt all the furniture to the floor, super glue everything else into place, and lock all the doors.