I keep a stash of toothbrushes in various colors, styles and sizes in a pretty tin in the bathroom. Along with toothbrushes, there are assorted soaps, spare bottles of shampoo, extra tubes of toothpaste, and other minor necessities of health and hygeine. I like to have everything handy in case something wears out or runs low. It's my job to keep everyone looking sparkly and smelling fresh and I take it seriously.
When my children's toothbrushes are looking a bit worn, I toss the old one and replace it with a new one. I try to find fun colors and special features, like tongue scrubbers and gum massagers. I never tell the children when I replace their toothbrushes. I like to leave them, quietly, like the toothbrush fairy, in each place, waiting patiently to be discovered. My children are always thrilled by this little treasure. The lucky child will exclaim over the purpleness of the purple handle and the brushiness of the bristles and magnificent suction of the suction cup that makes it stand upright on the side of the sink.
I find immense joy in their immense joy over such a mundane object. How could I not smile a bit when a child is so exhilerated by his good fortune at receiving a 25 cent plastic stick with nylon attached? When he simply must remove the plaque from his teeth this instant. He has the overwhelming need to become acquainted with his new possession, to indulge in the experience of this new thing. An ordinary rote action is magically tranformed into something new and special.
A task so small that I might perform it with almost no conscious thought has become a treasured memory. One that I will hold dear long after my children are grown, and one that I suspect my children might reflect on after I'm gone. "Remember how Mom would surprise us with toothbrushes? And we'd be so excited and she'd have us tell her all about them?"
Like the scent of pansy flower baby wash and the feel of my baby's breath against my neck are indelibly printed in my memory, I can easily picture myself walking down the aisle at the pharmacy when I'm old and gray and shedding a small tear of remembered joy when my eye rests on a dolphin shaped toddler toothbrush.
Every small task that we perform for those we love is an opportunity to express that love. By embracing my mundane chores, I can embrace my children.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
"MOM" = Hilarity
My laptop died a while ago. Since then, I've been sharing my kids' computer.
I made a folder in the Favorites cleverly titled "MOM", to keep them off my Facebook and so I don't have to sift through 20 cartoon and video game links to get to my "Post-Baby-Better-Than-Before-Baby-Beach-Body-Bikini" workout.
They recently discovered this folder, mixed in with their links. They think it's hysterically funny. I'd love to explain the joke, but I don't get it.
From what I gather, they seem to think that a folder titled "MOM" belonging to their actual mom is the height of comedic irony.
My kids have sophisticated sense of humor. Better than fart jokes, right?
I made a folder in the Favorites cleverly titled "MOM", to keep them off my Facebook and so I don't have to sift through 20 cartoon and video game links to get to my "Post-Baby-Better-Than-Before-Baby-Beach-Body-Bikini" workout.
They recently discovered this folder, mixed in with their links. They think it's hysterically funny. I'd love to explain the joke, but I don't get it.
From what I gather, they seem to think that a folder titled "MOM" belonging to their actual mom is the height of comedic irony.
My kids have sophisticated sense of humor. Better than fart jokes, right?
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Mothering is not a sacrifice.
We hear it so often, it has become an unquestioned truth. Mothering is a sacrifice. Mothers are selfless. The decision to have children is a selfless one.
I disagree.
A selfless act is one we do to benefit someone else, often at a cost, great or small, to our own self-interest. I did not choose to have children for their sake. I did it for my own.
I wanted my children. I asked and prayed for them. Not because I wanted to give them the gift of my mothering, but because I wanted the gift of becoming a mother.
I am not sacrificing my time, energy, money, and sleep to my children. I am giving it freely. Because I love them. Because I am grateful to be entrusted with such treasures. Because I choose to. Because I want to.
I want to spend my time with them. I want to teach them and learn with them. I want to feed them yummy food and clothe them in adorable clothes. I want to make a home for them, filled with love and laughter and toys and sticky messes.
I don't love the sticky messes, but I love watching my children light up with joy while they smush playdoh, smear jelly in their hair, cut and paste, paint pictures, dig in mud and eat cupcakes.
It pains me to think of my children, or the time I spend caring for them, as sacrifices. I never want them to feel like a burden to me.
Yes, I get overwhelmed. They out number me 4 to 1. I lose my temper and yell. I'm not always the fun, patient mom. I get tired and cranky.
But I hope that my children always know that they are worth every sleepless night and early morning. Every yawn and sigh. Every ruined shirt and extra chore. Every stretch mark, wrinkle and gray hair.
I would rather have my children than a spotless house, stylish furnishings, a lovely wardrobe, a promising career, a sporty car, a new iphone, a full night's sleep, a nice neighborhood and an extra bedroom.
Compared with the joy and purpose they give me, those things can hardly be called a sacrifice.
I disagree.
A selfless act is one we do to benefit someone else, often at a cost, great or small, to our own self-interest. I did not choose to have children for their sake. I did it for my own.
I wanted my children. I asked and prayed for them. Not because I wanted to give them the gift of my mothering, but because I wanted the gift of becoming a mother.
I am not sacrificing my time, energy, money, and sleep to my children. I am giving it freely. Because I love them. Because I am grateful to be entrusted with such treasures. Because I choose to. Because I want to.
I want to spend my time with them. I want to teach them and learn with them. I want to feed them yummy food and clothe them in adorable clothes. I want to make a home for them, filled with love and laughter and toys and sticky messes.
I don't love the sticky messes, but I love watching my children light up with joy while they smush playdoh, smear jelly in their hair, cut and paste, paint pictures, dig in mud and eat cupcakes.
It pains me to think of my children, or the time I spend caring for them, as sacrifices. I never want them to feel like a burden to me.
Yes, I get overwhelmed. They out number me 4 to 1. I lose my temper and yell. I'm not always the fun, patient mom. I get tired and cranky.
But I hope that my children always know that they are worth every sleepless night and early morning. Every yawn and sigh. Every ruined shirt and extra chore. Every stretch mark, wrinkle and gray hair.
I would rather have my children than a spotless house, stylish furnishings, a lovely wardrobe, a promising career, a sporty car, a new iphone, a full night's sleep, a nice neighborhood and an extra bedroom.
Compared with the joy and purpose they give me, those things can hardly be called a sacrifice.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Chocolate Blender Cupcakes and Cream Soda Frosting
These cupcakes are very moist and tasty. Preparing the batter in the blender saves time and makes clean up easy. When finished, add hot water, turn on and let the blender clean itself. Pour the batter directly into the cups from the blender pitcher. Super quick and easy. Frosting can be thick and spreadable or a thin glaze, depending on your preference.
Cupcakes
1 tsp vanilla
2 eggs
1/4 cup cooking oil
1 1/4 cups water
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 1/4 tsp baking soda
2/3 cup cocoa
1 2/3 cups sugar
2 1/4 cups all purpose flour
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Place all ingredients in blender pitcher in order. Blend on medium speed until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Scrape down sides if needed.
Pour into cupcake pan lined with papers. Fill just below tops.
Bakes 20 minutes for full size, 15 minutes for minis.
While cupcakes are baking mix frosting. Cool on a rack before frosting.
Frosting
1/3 cup butter or margarine
1 1/2-2 cups powdered sugar
splash cream soda
Place butter and 1 1/2 cups sugar in clean blender pitcher. Blend briefly on low speed. Add a splash of cream soda. Increase to medium speed. Continue adding sugar if too thin or sugar if too thick until desired consistency is reached. Pour into a bowl. Spoon onto cooled cupcakes. Let set for a few minutes, then enjoy.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Latkes
A latke is similar to a hashbrown patty. It's a Jewish food traditionally served during Chanukkah with sour cream and applesauce. We enjoy latkes all year round. My children like to eat them with ketchup (of course).
6 potatoes, shredded
1 onion, shredded
1 egg
1/4 cup matzo meal, cracker meal, whole wheat flour (this is what I prefer), or all-purpose flour
salt and pepper to taste
Drain potato shreds in collander in the sink for a few minutes. This prevents watery latkes.
Mix all ingredients in a large bowl.
Heat an inch of oil in a skillet or griddle.
Form patties, squeeze excess moisture, and place in hot oil. DO NOT TURN until the underside is very brown, or latkes will stick and crumble. When very brown, flip and cook on other side.
Drain on a rack or place on tray or plate in a single layer. Place in a warm oven. Serve hot!
This makes a large batch. Plenty to share. Once completely cool, place in freezer bags and freeze. To reheat, place frozen latkes on a baking tray and warm in 375 degree oven.
The easiest, richest, yummiest peanut butter cookies on the planet
1 cup peanut butter (or almond butter, sunbutter, cashew butter, soy butter, or my fave, mixed nut butter)
1 cup brown sugar (if you don't have brown, white will do. They will be less chewy and more crisp)
1 egg
1 tbs vanilla extract
Optional: Chocolate chips, nuts, candied nuts, chocolate squares, jelly, candied fruit
Mix all. If using chocolate squares, jelly or candied fruit, hold on to those.
Roll into small balls, the size of a shooter marble.
Place on a tray, one inch apart.
Smoosh with a fork if you like. If you are holding onto one of those other things, press them into the top of each cookie. If you are using jelly, press down with your thumb to make a pond and then fill it with jelly. Make sure your jelly pond doesn't leak, or you will have a big sugary, burnt mess where your cookies should be.
Bake for 8 minutes at 325.
Cookies will be very gooey. Let cool slightly on tray, then transfer to rack to cool completely. They are VERY rich. Make them little and pace yourself.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
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