Recycling

I haven't written in a while. My husband has found that he is able to get more work done when he is using every computer in the house simultaneously. Thus, my time for being creative is spend being annoyed and waiting patiently (not really) for Joe to get his new laptop so that I can write when the mood strikes. In the meantime, I am going to cheat and post some of the newspaper columns that I wrote during my brief, but satisfying, stint as a published writer. I hope you enjoy.

The Joy of Cooking

I stand in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open, arms laden with my favorite ingredients: sun dried tomatoes, artichoke hearts, pesto, fresh parmesan. My mind creates flavor combinations that instantly cause my mouth to salivate. I search the vegetable drawer to see what is on hand. Fresh, thin, green asparagus –oh I am in heaven. I stop for a moment to consider the others I am feeding. Joe, my husband, would rather have a meaty tomato sauce with sausage and meatballs. Actually, he would probably even prefer Spaghetti O’s. Alec, who is 12, loves artichokes but not so much the asparagus. It is too late to reconsider; my mind is already made up. They will just have to deal with my taste for tonight.

The sauce begins with olive oil and sausage. These are not just ordinary sausage, but special ordered from Sausage Heaven located in New Hampshire. You can’t even compare these to any they have in the local grocery store. You won’t find any indistinguishable hard lumps in these. Cheddar garlic is my choice for tonight and the smell is amazing. When the sausage is gently browned, I toss in the vegetables and add some white wine and pesto. The smell begins to engulf the kitchen and then enters Kyle, my eight year old.

“Whatcha making for me?” he says, peering into the pan.

He asks this question every night, fearing that there won’t be a plain carbohydrate in sight. Kyle is one of those children who won’t eat anything. He has a plain palate and desperate fear of trying anything new. He is also extremely stubborn. We have consulted his pediatrician, who assures us that children will not starve themselves. I believe Kyle would starve before eating anything that has a trace of color.

We have tried everything. First we tried making him sit at the table until he ate his dinner. Then it became just sit there until you try it. He would sit at the table, in the dark, until it was time to go to bed before he would even put one taste on his lips. We have tried bribery, trickery, begging, and loss of privileges. We even tried Dr. Phil’s suggestion of giving him the same plate of food over and over until he eats it. Think about that. If they aren’t willing to try it when it is fresh and looks good, what makes him think they will eat it when it is three days old and dried up? Seriously.

Alec emerges from his video game induced coma to see what smells so good. He is quick to note that I have used artichokes and believing he is unnoticed begins to sneak them into his mouth. He would continue this practice if I didn’t tell him to leave some for the rest of us. I mean me.

“Mom, what am I going to eat?” Kyle persists.

“I don’t know, Kyle. What are you going to eat?” I sigh, adding pasta to a bubbling pot. Relieved to see there is in fact something he will eat being prepared, Kyle grabs a fist of the uncooked spaghetti and munches while waiting for the rest to cook. I add the fresh parmesan to the sauce and set the table.

Joe comes home from work just as I add some pasta to the sauce, making sure to leave some plain for Kyle.

“Good timing,” I say. “Dinner is ready.”

“Oh,” he says. “I’m not really hungry. I just had Japanese at a late lunch meeting.”

At this moment I am very happy I had to open a bottle of wine to make the sauce. Pouring myself a glass, I sit down and savor a meal I made for myself, which rarely happens these days.

Rebuilding

Although I don't want to beat a dead horse, my life seems to be tied up in the well being of my teen son. I apologize if my blogs seem repetitive and just plain negative. The past few weeks have been up an down; the ups being that nothing bad happened that day, and the downs being a variety of issues. One of the prevalent issues has been dealing with the fact that Alec has been bullied at school. This is not really a new development. It has actually been going on in some form or another for years. It has only recently become an issue that we are dealing with rather than trying to have Alec to handle it on his own, because simply put-he wasn't. He would be called names and he would shrink. He would disappear. He has been doing this for a while and I believe it is a big reason of why he is in the low place he is now.

It is a law in Massachusetts now that the schools have to deal with bullying. It is a law that they provide students with a safe environment to learn. So, we have had meetings at the school to discuss how to stop the bullying. If you look at the situation, you realize that it is not a simple problem to resolve. There are kids that bully. They act this way for a number of reasons, maybe they are insecure and use posturing to gain a sense of power; maybe they want to look cool and think that by being mean they achieve this status. The list of reasons can go on and on. Just by telling them to stop doesn't mean they will. Then you have the victims. They may be kids who are shy and withdrawn and seem like an easy target, unlikely to take action; they may be different in appearance or behavior. Again, the list could go on.

We have tried for many years to get Alec to change his position in this equation. If he stood up to the bully he would not appear weak and an easy target. The other kids may look at him differently and the teasing would stop. He doesn't see this as an option, even at his almost 6 foot stature. No matter what we tell him, he continues to disappear. The school has spoken to the bullies and they now see Alec as a "snitch". So, what happens next? We need to rebuild the confidence and self esteem of a boy who has started to believe he is what they say. Our homework assignment -to make a list of the things we like about Alec and he to write a list for himself. It wasn't hard for me. Although he is a teen and going through a "phase" I am not particularly fond of, he still encompasses great human qualities, such as compassion and empathy. His list is blank. He cannot think of one thing he likes about himself. I suppose we are all a work in progress, some just have farther to go.

Hope in Progress

When you decide as a couple to have children, it is a decision based on love. You bring a baby home from the hospital with dreams of picnics on the beach, building sandcastles, teaching them to ride a bike and the happiness you will experience as a family. You want them to grow knowing love, security and a sense of well being. Kids do not come with a manual. Each and every child is different and there is no one direct path to creating happiness for them. We, as parents, do the best we can. What happens when the plans stray from the path we envisioned? What do we do when the child we love does not sail with ease through life's transitions?

When Alec was born 15 years ago, I thought my life could not have been more perfect. We had experienced a scare when Joe was almost killed in a car accident during my 5th month of pregnancy. By the time Alec was born, Joe was pretty much fully recovered. Life was back on track and things were looking good. We enjoyed our family life- taking bike rides, hikes, and playing peek a boo with our beautiful, happy baby boy. We knew Alec was bright from a very early age. I remember when he was eight months old and said "monkey" and then made a monkey sound. When he was four years old and the pediatrician asked him a series of questions, such as the names of shapes, she was amazed that he could name a hexagon and that a child this age knew the difference between male and female. We were happy that he was smart. That should mean school was breeze and his future should unfold easily before him. Unfortunately, being smart sometimes has other effects. During our first ever school conference with his kindergarten teacher she told us we needed to hug and tickle Alec more. We had no idea what she meant. I am pretty sure if we tickled him more, it might constitute abuse. We were very silly and happy parents. It didn't make sense. Alec was a serious fve year old, but what is wrong with that?

Imagine being a child, but seeing the world through the eyes of an adult. I think that is what Alec sees. He always seemed to worry about things a child should never even think about. His unusual perspective and sensitivity have made him different. He has never felt like he fit in with his peers. His self confidence and self esteem suffered. Alec is now 15 years old- an age that can be difficult under the best of circumstances. Teenagers want desperately to belong, to fit in and be accepted. This year Alec decided to join football. Joe and I were perplexed but also somewhat relieved. This could be a great way for him to make friends and be physically active. When he came home from the first couple of practices smiling, I was overjoyed. It didn't last long though. After a couple more practices in the overbearing heat of August, he was done. He wanted to quit. Joe and I disagreed. The heat would be over soon, the fun part would begin-it would get better. We told him to suck it up.

The saying hindsight is 20/20 could not be truer in this case. What followed our decision to make him stick it out was like spiraling into a black hole. His already low self confidence and self esteem basically disappeared when he felt like he was terrible at the sport and that his teammates recognised this. As I was writing this last week, I got a call from the school adjustment counselor. Alec had been talking to her and we needed to go down to the school right away. After a very painful discussion about how Alec was feeling, the decision was made to allow Alec to quit football.

Joe and I have been feeling tremendous guilt that what we viewed as an important life lesson caused Alec to feel so bad. We do still believe there are values gained in sticking it through something that is difficult. We have also learned that some lessons are not so important if the cost is too great.

We are working on healing now. A teenager's self confidence needs repairing. As parents, our self confidence has also been damaged. We are moving forward cautiously and hope soon we will look back on this period as a time of necessary growth.

In pursuit of skinny legs

Spring brings with it hope, freshness, sun, flowers, and shorts. Shorts that were put away with sadness last fall and emerged this spring with the usual anxiety. No one likes putting shorts on for the first time each spring. The pale legs are unforgiving and show the neglect I am guilty of. I knew those days of skipping the gym would come back to haunt me, and they have in the form of inches on my thighs and a spare tire around my waist. I probably should be a little more worried than I am, but I know that with the shorts also comes the walks and bike rides that will (hopefully) bring my legs back to where I can look in the mirror without horror and shock.

Of course, a change in eating habits is also in order, and I know that I am not alone here, so I am going to share my once declared "orgasmic" granola recipe with you. I like to use it in a yogurt parfait, layered with vanilla yogurt, berries and bananas. It is also good just as a cereal. Yes, I know some of my friends will say "why would you make granola when you can buy it in a store?" My reply would be that the good granola is expensive and while you may use my recipe exactly, you can also change the flavors to suit your taste.

So wish me luck in my pursuit of skinny legs (or at least to fit in last years shorts) and I wish you well with yours.



Kristen's Orgasmic Granola

2 cups oatmeal
1 cup wheat germ
1/3 cup powdered milk
1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup orange juice
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1/2 nuts (I like pecans the best)
1/4 cup raisins
1/4 cup chopped dates
1/4 cup craisins (optional)


Mix all ingredients except fruit and spread on a baking sheet with sides. In a 250 degree preheated oven bake for about an hour(until slightly golden brown), stirring every 10 minutes. Granola will still seem slightly moist when taken from the oven, but crisps up after cooling. When cool add the fruit and store in an air tight container.

Time flies even when you aren't having fun

An observation I am surely not the first to make is how incredibly fast the time is flying past. I was just getting ready for bed, putting face cream on and I thought "wasn't I just doing this?" Where did the day go? Just moments ago I was packing Kyle's lunch and putting around the house. What did I do all day? The days blend into weeks and weeks into months. It is kind of scary.

I remember being a kid and the days were endless. You would get up in the morning all bright eyed and the day would seem like anything was possible. Maybe you would ride your bike to the duck pond and pick blueberries and then go home and play kickball and blow bubbles and hit the tennis ball against the house. Then you could catch frogs and climb trees and chase the dog that escaped from the neighbors yard. After lunch you would complain that there is nothing to do. You would go around the neighborhood and gather your friends and play Charlie's Angels and Wizard of Oz. Then lay on the lawn and watch clouds and say what they looked like and watch the planes leave thin white trails in their wake. When your friends went home you might twirl the baton in the backyard and pretend you were in a parade and practice cartwheels which you never were very good at. After dinner you would need a bath because catching frogs can be pretty dirty business. Pajamas, maybe a board game with daddy, story and then bed.

As you get older, the days go by a little more quickly. As a teenager, time starts to be a little more elusive. You watch the clock in math class waiting for the bell to ring so you can see if he notices you in the hall. You can't wait for the weekends to sleep at your girlfriends and borrow her clothes for the party that night. You wish for the week to be over so you can sleep in and watch t.v. You look forward to summer vacation. You start the wishing away of time. Rushing through days to get to what you think matters.

I don't really know where the college years went. I fell in love and looked to the future of being out of school and getting married. I got married and couldn't wait to have babies. Alec was born and I savored the time a little bit more. He grew so fast I wanted to push a pause button. The newborn grew into a baby and the baby started walking and talking, and we tracked every milestone. But even then, how foolish I was, to wish for no more diapers, to wish for the baby to sleep through the night, to wish for the baby to say a word. All these wishes for time to pass to get to the next milestone, only to get there to wish for the next one.

My kids are now entering the teen and tween years and I can't believe my babies are grown. I sometimes hear myself saying I can't wait to be a grandmother. I wonder at this moment as I pat the cream around my face to prevent the signs of aging, when will I stop wishing for the time to fast forward? When I am a grandmother will I be able to savor the moments of their childhood? Will I wish for the next milestone?

Even though I do live in the moment for the most part, I have to stop worrying about the future and concentrate on getting it right, right now. I don't want to look back on these years and think I wished it all away. Even the parts that are difficult and seem to never end, will end. They will end and my now teenager will be a man and it is the time right now is what determines what kind of man he will be. I need to focus on now.

Doggie Diapers? (not for the squeamish)

As I drank my coffee this morning I decided to do some research on dog incontinence. Not pleasant reading for sure, but you see our 14 year old dog Stella seems to be losing control. It started a few weeks ago with her not quite making it outside before pooping. (Sorry if this is gross-but it is just a fact of life). She would walk to the door dropping poo behind her every few steps, or we would wake up to find a few small poops near her bed. We know she was ashamed because as soon as we let her out-she took off. This is a practice of hers when she thinks we are mad at her. She eventually comes back and we all pretend nothing happened.

So last night Stella was home alone for a couple of hours while Alec and I went to dinner. When we got home and were about to settle down to watch a movie and our newly finished sun room, I discovered it. I had covered the new couch with a blanket because Stella has found she likes it there because she can see the yard from all angles out the windows. I picked up the blanket to snuggle up and felt that it was wet. I turned the lights on and saw stains on both of the cushions. Not one-both.

I was able to get the stains out of the couch, but I would like to keep the new furniture in good condition as long as possible. The kids have been threatened with their lives not to eat or drink on it, but how do I keep an incontinent dog off? Another problem arises with this situation as well. Joe has been trying to plan a family vacation for April and asked his mother to take the dog. I cannot in good conscience ask someone to take my dog who will most likely soil their home.

I know that Stella will not be around for a lot longer. Fourteen is old for a big dog. But besides the normal ailments from aging, she still seems healthy and vital. I remember how she used to chase Alec around the backyard when he was just a baby. He would start running and she would follow and playfully catch him by the leg of his pants, making him fall in a fit of laughter. She has been a fierce protector of our family, never hurting anyone, but making it clear these are her kids and no one would hurt them on her watch.

I am not ready to say goodbye. I will keep my steam cleaner ready and continue to cover the couch until Stella herself is ready to go. I think we might just stay home this April vacation . I wonder if she will be around when we go on vacation this summer. If she is, at least it is good to know they do sell doggie diapers.

Cheers

It is nice to know that even at 40 there are still some firsts to experience. This weekend I had my first ever birthday party. As the youngest of five children, my parents were done with parties by the time I came around. It is ok, there were some benefits to being the youngest. For all of my older sisters 40th birthday's we got together to celebrate. Everyone wanted to know what I wanted to do. I decided that I wanted a party.

Joe had wanted to throw me a party for my 30th birthday, but at the time I really didn't have a circle of friends. The kids were little and they were pretty much my whole life. Being a mother to toddlers can be very isolating. You might meet some nice moms on the playground, but for me they never lead to a lasting friendship. I pretty much had to beg him not to throw me a party that year. This time it was different. Over the past several years, through family, work, and the kids sports I have been fortunate to meet some wonderful people who I am lucky to call my friends.

On the way to the party I started having a panic attack. I don't like being the center of attention (contrary to what some people might think). I knew that when we walked through the door all eyes would be on me. I was worried that no one would be there. I was also thinking about singing karaoke in front of everyone I know. It is different doing it in front of strangers. Joe had asked the DJ (who was awesome) to have the karaoke available. I love to sing. I sing all the time-in the car, in the kitchen and at work I find myself humming all day long. I had chosen a song that I was comfortable with. I practiced-maybe even too much as my voice was going in and out all night. My friend Tina went first and was awesome- she sounded like a pro. Her doing so well gave me confidence. But what happened when I took the mike and started to sing Before He Cheats was less like singing and more like sounds from a frog dying. It was seriously bad. So much for impressing everyone with my talent-I had just humiliated myself in front of everyone.

No one followed my performance. I guess they didn't want to take the chance to sound as bad as me. The dancing continued and from looking at all the pictures it seems like everyone had a good time. Joe did an awesome job planning the party as well as entertaining us with his outrageous dancing. I had a blast (aside from the public shame). I can't wait for the next time we all get together.