More on Pets

I've found the perfect motivator to get the kids to pick up their stuff:  an incontinent cat.

Pet Swap

We've officially swapped our fish for mice.  The enthusiasm that followed our first mouse sighting was quite memorable.  Clara was tingling all over.  She dove head first into the pantry to try to get her hands on them.  Although June hasn't seen them, she tells everyone about them.  I guess it's a positive sign that in her excitement, she forgets to mention the dead fish.

Winter Soup Stride

It has been cold here lately, and I've hit my winter soup stride.  I am no award-winning cook.  In fact, time in the kitchen was one of the many things I didn't factor in when I went for four kids.  But, here we all are.  And I spend a lot of my time in the kitchen.

Jeff is a good stove-top chef.  Really good.  (Something I DID factor in when I married him.)  He's creative, quick and has a great sense of timing.  (In fact, that's a decent description of his personality, too.)  As a result, he's usually in charge of the main course for our holiday dinners.

I, on the other hand, specialize in cooking that gives you wiggle room.  Like things that won't burn if you leave them simmering an extra 30 minutes.  Or things that don't require exact measurements and such.

So, I make soups in the winter, pull together pretty raw food in the summer, and bake all year round.  Here in the thick of winter, I'm on a soup-making frenzy.  In the past 2-3 weeks, I've made:

• salmon chowder
• carrot soup
• lentil soup
• black bean soup
• chicken noodle soup
• white bean and kale soup, and
• butternut squash & pear soup

Again, I am no expert, but Gourmet Magazine is.  Here is a rough translation of their salmon chowder recipe that is always a hit:

Boil some potatoes, cut into little cubes, in milk, and then simmer (for however long you want); Saute an onion in butter; Cook salmon on top of that.  Put the salmon to the side, but add the onion (plus a little flour) to the milk and potatoes.  Cut up the salmon and add it to the other stuff.  Add a little smoked salmon.  Add some sea salt and pepper, and a whole bunch of dill.  The end.

Solutions

We decided to put carpets in our three tiny kids bedrooms to make them a little more cozy.  So, the six of us loaded up in the van and drove to the Carpet Store.  Jeff and I were decisive.  Beige, soft, eco-corn -- done.

Then came the whining.  The kids ganged up - it was purple or bust.  And everyone in the store knew it.  The expression of entitlement, at a carpet store no less, rubbed Jeff and me the wrong way.

So we came up with a solution:  Finger-knitting.  I'm sure they'll finger-knit a lovely purple carpet.  Rainbow color for John.

Trash Day

It doesn't get much better than trash truck day at our house.  Boulder is pretty amazing actually.  They do curbside compost.  I feel proud of that.   But the pick-up has all the elements of a great event:  

• The preparation. Will's chore to gather up the loot, Clara's chore to pull the bins out.  Sometimes these work out...
• The sense of accomplishment.  Seriously, Clara talks/brags about this all week.
• The anticipation.  John jumps at the word "trash."
• The last minute sense of urgency.  I run out to add a few more things. John screams. 
• The far away sound of it coming.  Everyone gets in their best viewing positions.
• The loud and almost scary sound of its arrival.  Everyone checks to make sure their viewing position is close to Mom.  Sometimes I'm holding multiple children.
• Then the big event: the actual dumping!  Those big huge claws reach out and grab the trash.  Or sometimes they miss.  That's really exciting.  Even more exciting is when the trash truck guy / celebrity has to get out of the truck for the Chtristmas Tree or for an extra recycling box.  
• Finally, there's the departure.  I have such a good feeling, both from ridding our house of stuff and from watching this scene:

Playdough

This week, my to-do list goes something like this:

• Make playdough with June;
• Hike with the kids;
• Read with the kids;
• Work on John's sleeping habits;
• Make a family wall of pictures;
• Finish making bags for the kids;
• Clean the house;
• Cook a bunch of soup;

Then last night, I went to a meditation for a close friend and father of two who is having surgery today to remove a tennis ball-sized tumor from his head.  

I want to push away the previous sentence, make it disappear, and dwell in my child-focused world. Under our roof, there is creating and learning and innocence and raw emotions.  Cancer does not fit with children.  It doesn't fit for adults either, though we have knowledge of life's suffering and scope.

Last night, June bragged to me that she watched 'Planet Earth' while I was away.  The part where the lion ate the elephant.  I can't stand the thought of her seeing that on a screen.  She doesn't really absorb the scene, but it represents something that big people can watch.  She thinks that it's where she's headed.  Being able to 'handle' these things.  But here, we are all travelers in the dark.

Today, while my friend has surgery, we'll be listening to Sing Sing a Song.  June and John will dance.  We'll knead our playdough, roll it around, feel the warmth in our hands.  Although we will be together in  this child's world, I will not lose myself in it.  But it holds such beauty and light, and that's what I'd like to give my friend -- for strength today, and joy in a lifetime of days to follow.

Stumped

I have always wanted to have private thinking spaces in our backyard for each kid.  (Goodness knows they / I  need them!)  This weekend, I found inspiration: stumps.  A funky property up the hill from our house was selling beautiful round chucks of wood.

In order to lift them into our car, I had to include Jeff.   In fact, I had to use an "if you love me..." pass.  (You can't use those lightly.)  They do, after all, alter our "stuff" equation in the wrong direction.  But, the stumps are home, and each child has chosen their spot:

• Will's is beside the hole he is digging from our yard to the Boulder Creek; 
• June chose a sunny spot next to the rope ladder;  
• Clara claimed the space around the water fountain.  
• We put John in the corner.

We'll spend some time this spring planting flowers and personalizing.  Hopefully they will get some use.