A favorite quote from Bette Davis: “If you’ve never been hated by your child, you’ve never been a parent.”
We had a couple of incidents this week that had the kids mad at me. Nothing big. Nothing that wasn’t really forgotten the next day (attempts at smuggling candy, what constitutes actually washing your hands, how to properly fold a fitted sheet).
Here’s what I’ve come to believe after 10 years of parenting. If your kids are never mad at you, if they never whine about how unfair you are being, it’s probably means you’re not doing your job as a parent. You are only protecting them from the consequences of their actions. How is that going to work out in the long run when life gives them a firm kick in the pants? We can only engage with the world as it is, not as we wish it would be. Raising sheltered or unprepared kids is not the way to raise successful adults.
I like baking because of the science and the precision. Cooking you have a little more leeway to freelance but if you do that in baking chances are you’re going to end up with something that doesn’t resemble the picture in the cookbook. So, check your pantry right now. Do you have natural or Dutch cocoa powder? Can you substitute one for the other?
I need to crowdsource an answer. There is an ongoing disagreement about wages in our house. We have begun to pay Cecilia an allowance for doing things around the house. I’ll admit I’m a little…frugal. I see some valid points in Scrooge and Marley’s business practices.
Honestly, other than emptying the dishwasher and occasionally walking Dash, it’s mostly things she either was already doing or needed to do anyway, such as practice her instruments and do her homework. The crucial fine print: do it all without complaining. And to be fair, most days she has gotten down to business when she gets home. That has been a real welcome maturation. Now, I’m all about teaching them the value of a dollar, so how much would you pay a 10 year old for those services?
I’m not one that loves the gore and guts of the horror genre but I do quite like a book that can disturb and unsettle without always resorting to blood. The type of book that lingers long after you finish. The type of book that doesn’t neatly fit into one genre but brings all sort of story elements to bear to make you cringe and shiver.
These are some of my favorite genre-bending books for the encroaching dark nights of fall.
I had a business trip this week and someone left a Sports Illustrated in the seat pocket from the previous flight which included this amazing story of Keanon Lowe whose post-playing career appeared to be going nowhere. Turns out he was right where he was supposed to be.
It’s certainly not a direct comparison to Lowe, but I do often find myself lost and befuddled in the thicket of parenting. I thought it might get easier when they could talk or wipe their own butts or take a shower. Nope. Things only get harder, often in more subtle and insidious ways.
I feel stressed, overwhelmed, cranky and lost and that’s just trying to figure out the weekly meal schedule never mind navigating the social norms of fifth grade girls. My kids make me mad and make me melt thirty-six times a days but ultimately that is just being a parent. You gotta embrace both them and the moment no matter how challenging.
The two days of travel and the break from active parenting did offer some perspective. None of us really have any idea what life has in store for us even as it breaks our hearts or keeps kicking us when we are down. We gotta remember that we are not lost, we are exactly where we are supposed to be. Not by chance or providence but because by our actions and our choices we make it where we are supposed to be. Parent on, people!
Tofu is inexpensive, filling, nutritious, and … often tastes terrible. It doesn’t have to. I promise. Time and temperature are two simple tricks that can turn your tofu frown upside down.
One of our staple meals for busy weeknights is a tofu and veggie stir fry over brown rice. We cook and eat a lot of tofu and we’ve cooked and eaten a lot of bad tofu but over the years we eventually found a simple way to make it taste great in three simple steps.
We had a rare Saturday where we had very little scheduled. We weren’t entertaining. We weren’t crashing someone’s house to be entertained. We had no houseguests. No expectations. The only official thing on the docket was a make-up field hockey game late in the afternoon. Otherwise we were free to make like Whitman or Thoreau, men who valued the virtue of loafing, and spend a Saturday doing very little.
You can probably guess how this goes.
It was a challenge for Michelle to turn off her puritan work ethic. The sweetness of doing nothing does not come naturally. The clutter in the basement, or under the cabinet in the bathroom, or that one drawer in the kitchen, was a siren song…