Leaving Surprises on the Bed-A Secret Tradition between a Mom and her Children

I fondly remember those once in a while days when I would come home from school to find a little surprise waiting for me on my bed. I always knew my mom had been out shopping with my Grandma or Aunt Pat, and she saw something that she knew I would like. It was the 80's, so they were little things, like new headbands or jelly bracelets. It could have been new socks, a book or a pack of my favorite bubble gum. It didn't matter. Whenever a small trinket or treat was waiting for me after a long day at school, I felt excitement and love from my mom.

I started this tradition with my own four kids many years ago, and now they are now 12, 11, 8, and 5. I never tell them that I've left something on their beds. That's the fun of it. I wait downstairs, as the moments tick by, until they spot the surprises.

Last summer, all four kids spent an entire week with their grandparents. I enjoyed a blissfully quiet time of recuperation. During my leisurely strolls through Target, which would usually never occur in the summer with four kids, I made sure to buy each of them a little something to have waiting on their beds when they came home…something to remind them that while they were gone, I was still thinking of them. Missing them.

One of the first things my daughter asked me when we picked them up from Grandma's was, "Did you clean my room while I was gone? I bet you cleaned my room and left a surprise on my pillow." The fact that she was anxiously hoping for that surprise made my day, knowing that, of course, I had done it. That moment was the first time I realized that she was aware of the tradition I had been doing for years, and she was looking forward to it, too.

She ran up to her room and was the first one to find her treats. She enthusiastically told her three brothers to check their beds, too. Each child thanked me and told me how much they loved their new toy and candy. It was nothing expensive or fancy. A stuffed animal key chain and Pez dispenser was plenty to thrill them.

My mom stayed home with my brothers and me for over eighteen years. I hope that I showed my appreciation for her when I was young, but I'm sure I was ungrateful plenty of times. Recently, I just told both of my parents how much I loved having surprises on my bed when I was young, and that I'm glad my kids love it, too. My dad's response?

"Hey, she never left surprises on my pillow!" 

Some things are just special between a mother and her children.

I am thankful for the incredible role model of motherhood that my mom has been to me. Naturally, she has morphed into a glorious grandmother to nine kiddos, and now I'm trying my best to be as special of a mom to my kids as she was to me. I can only wish that when my daughter has her own babies, she, too, will carry on the "surprises on the bed" tradition and reminisce about the days I did it for her brothers and her.

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms! You are making memories you may not even realize, with the simple things you do every day.
    

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My Very Favorite Christmas Cookie Recipe: Chocolate-Covered Peanut Butter Sandwiches

It's that time of year when my kitchen is messy from the best kind of debris: cookie making supplies. I wanted to share with you what has come to be my very favorite holiday-time cookie to eat, and there's no actual "baking" involved. If you can spread peanut butter and dip something in chocolate, you can master these treats that taste incredibly similar to the Peanut Butter Patties/Tagalongs that your local Girl Scouts sell every year. They hold up in the freezer like champs, too, which means it's never too early to start your Christmas baking...er, I mean dipping. 

Chocolate-Covered Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies

(In my house, we call them "Peanut Butter Ritz").

 

 To make these cookies, you’ll need:

3 sleeves of Ritz Crackers

1 (16 oz.) package of Chocolate Flavored Coating

Creamy Peanut Butter, about 1 cup

1 Tbsp. Shortening

(Yields about 40 cookies)

Directions:

1.Spread a layer of peanut butter on a Ritz cracker, and top it with another cracker; set aside. Continue until all crackers are used.

2. Break chocolate coating into squares and place into a glass, microwave safe bowl. Add shortening as well.

3. Microwave for 90 seconds. Chocolate squares will still hold their shape, but they are actually soft inside.

4. Stir chocolate and shortening together.

5.  Microwave again in 15 second intervals, stirring after each one, until the mixture is completely smooth. Do not overheat, as this will cause scorching.

6.  Dip each sandwich into the melted chocolate.

7.  Use two forks to pick up and coat both sides of the sandwiches. Shake excess chocolate off crackers by lightly tapping your fork on the side of the bowl, and then scraping it gently across the rim of the bowl.

8. Place coated cookies onto a sheet of wax paper, using the other fork to slide them onto the paper.

9. Top with sprinkles while chocolate is still wet (optional).

10. Allow cookies to dry on wax paper until hardened, placing in refrigerator if desired. 

11. Try not to eat them all before you want to share them with friends and family.

Helpful Tip: Did you notice that my Ritz are not round, but a festive shape instead? In the Fall, stores start to sell Snowflake shaped Ritz Crackers. I buy up lots of boxes and tell the kids they aren't allowed to eat them. If I wait till the week or two before Christmas, the shelves will be filled with the regular round crackers again. Of course, the cookies made with regular Ritz taste just as rich and yummy, but if you want that holiday flair, think ahead and grab yourself a stash of Snowflake Ritz.

 

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Declaring to Value Our Time this December and Find Peace

When did it become December 2nd? Our tree is decorated, our Elf (named Harry...as in Potter), is back up on the shelf again, and the kids are anxiously counting the days until Christmas, using the not-so-fancy countdown board we found on clearance at the end of last season. We just finished up celebrating two kids' birthdays and then Thanksgiving, and now it's time to prepare for Christmas. Seriously, how did it happen?

I'll forever be amazed that since becoming parents, time just seems to disappear. It continually slips away, through our fingertips, always just out of reach. Although we'd like to catch it, grasp it and stop it from moving forward, it's impossible. Everywhere I go, when I see friends or family, someone says, "Can you believe it's already ________?" We fill in the blank with the year, or whatever holiday that seems to have arrived too soon, or time for school to start, or time for school to end. Today, I'm saying, "Can you believe it's already December?" Very soon I'll be announcing, "I cannot believe it's 2015!"

Something enlightening popped in front of my eyes yesterday which really inspired me to stop. Stop worrying about time. Stop fretting over the never-ending to-do lists of December. Stop, look, listen and enjoy what is in front of us.

This something quietly came across my Facebook feed, along with all the pictures of cats and newly decorated Christmas trees and inappropriate jokes. It was a beautifully written declaration made by my cousin's wife. She had openly declared to slow down. To enjoy her two babies. Her husband. Her life. She vowed to forget about the hassle of baking and gift buying and parties that inevitably make us all stressed and crazy during the holidays. She had decided what was most important to her at this point in their beautiful life, and she laid it all out there for Facebook-land to see. Maybe people scrolled past it, or maybe people thought she was suddenly Grinchy. I'm hoping that most people saw the same beauty in her ideas that I did.

She has inspired me.

For the past few weeks, I had been thinking about what is looming over my head this Christmas season. The calendar is filing up quickly, as our month is busy with travel and hosting and volunteering and shopping and baking and on and on. I'm the type of person who wants to do it all, see everybody, and be everywhere. Are you?

I'm thankful to have an insightful husband who can see this struggle I carry within myself. He recently removed one item from our plate. I fought him till the end, worrying about how it would affect others if we simply erased it from the calendar. Now that I'm officially free from the worry of this event, I can breathe a little easier as I prepare for my children's favorite holiday.

So, as Mark did his part to remove a hosting event from my holiday duties, I am going to do mine. I'm not ready to be as bold as my cousin and delete everything. However, I do have one Christmas obligation that I'm declaring right here, right now, simply to ignore this year. Do you have something you continue to do, year after year, but it seems to bring more harm to your holiday spirit than cheer? Will you join my cousin and me in letting go?

Here's my official statement. There's no turning back now:

I will not worry about sending a hundred Christmas cards this year.

I will not stress about posing my four children for that impossible perfect Christmas card photo. They are adorable and funny and loving and wild, and I'm not going to compare my picture to all of the others that come through my mailbox this year.

I will not spend hours going through last year's cards, my address file, the post-office or Shutterfly, looking for that "just right" card that says who we are this year.

I won't feel the sense of sadness that inevitably occurs when I send cards to people year after year who never send them to me.

I will carefully select one glittery, cheerful and sentimental card to send to my only living grandparent, letting her know that we value and appreciate the gift that she is to our family. I will encourage our children to send cards to their grandparents and those who mean the most to them.

I will gaze, with a smile on my face, as my children open the mailbox to find someone has thought of us this year.

I will cherish each and every card that does come to our home, from near and far. I will take time to read the messages, examine the sweet photos and feel thankful for those who do carry on this Christmas tradition I love so much.

I vow that next December, I will have the foresight to eliminate other needless duties from our schedule, freeing up time to send Christmas cards to the family and friends I so deeply value. I kindly ask those with whom we usually exchange cards: please don't take us off your lists. Our entryway would not be the same this year without your festive greetings taped all around. I'm still thinking of you, remembering you and wishing you a wonderful holiday season.

Can you think of something that you might want to remove from your busy life this season? Do you need a little nudge to finally give yourself permission to just let it go? Here I am, nudging you, ever-so-gently, to do what's most important to you and your family this year. Imagine all of the new memories you can create once you free yourself of the obligation. Imagine the peace.

Broccoli Rice Casserole

Every family has those favorite dishes we feel must grace our holiday tables in order to make the day complete. I've told you that Thanksgiving is the holiday I love the very most. It's about family and food and companionship. We talk and laugh and relax...and eat! When my brothers and I were growing up, we always made two stops on Thanksgiving Day. We would spend the daytime hours with my dad's side of the family, and then in the evening, we would pop over to see my mom's family for a quick sandwich, slice of pie, and a bowl of my aunt's famous macaroni salad.

Until I was a young adult, my paternal grandmother prepared a traditional and hearty meal every Thanksgiving, always set at 2 p.m.  She was a very tiny woman with a quiet grace who opened her home and heart for the love of her family. I'd like to share one of the recipes that she used to make for our Thanksgiving dinner. It has been thirteen years since she passed away, but every time that I smell this dish bubbling away in the oven, I fondly remember all of the years we spent gathered around my grandma's table.

Broccoli Rice Casserole

Ingredients:

1/2 stick of margarine (or butter)
1 T. minced onions (from the spice rack)
1 1/2 c. water
10 oz. chopped frozen broccoli
1 1/2 c. raw Minute Rice
1 can of Campbell's Cheddar Cheese soup
1 can of Cream of Mushroom soup
1 can of French's Fried Onions (the kind you put on green bean casserole)

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and spray a casserole dish with non-stick spray. (2 qt. round or 11x7 inches).

2. In a medium pot, bring water, butter and minced onions to a boil. Add the frozen broccoli and bring to a boil again.

3. Add the Minute Rice. Stir, cover and remove from heat. Let stand for 5 minutes.

4. Add the 2 cans of soup and stir all together until combined.

5. Spread the broccoli/rice mixture into the pan. Bake for 30 minutes. Top with fried onions and bake for 5 more.

HELPFUL TIP: For weeknight dinners, I've been making this dish with California blend, which gives it an added sweetness from the carrots. Otherwise, I like it just as it is for Thanksgiving, Easter and baby showers. It just reminds me of Grandma.


I know you have some favorite family recipes that remind you of holiday dinners or desserts. Would you leave me a comment to tell me about them?

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Perfect Fall Apple Crisp

Today has been one of those cold, rainy, yucky October days that are typical for us in our Midwestern town. Mark has coached Chip through countless wet soccer games over the years, but today set a new record with hail coming down on them! Lucky for me, I was warm and dry inside the aquatic center with Marshall, while we watched Reese and Trixie glide through the water for their swim practice. Saturdays are our split-up days, but now, we are finally back together under one roof.

The moist gloom is still present outside, the leaves have really begun to descend to the ground, and the acorns are still constantly dropping from our oak trees. I'm sure you can guess what I'm doing today to warm us up and make our home smell extra sweet and inviting.

Baking!

Today's dessert is my favorite apple crisp, made with the fresh apples Marshall and I plucked from the orchard during his preschool field trip this week. I have been baking this crisp since I received my copy of The Big Red Cookbook from Betty Crocker at my wedding shower fourteen years ago. It's a family favorite, and I'd love to share it with you. 

Perfect Fall Apple Crisp*



Ingredients:
4-6 cups apples, peeled and sliced (I love Golden Delicious)
3/4 c. packed brown sugar
1/2 c. flour
1/2 c. oats (quick or old-fashioned)
3/4 tsp. cinnamon
3/4 tsp. nutmeg
1/3 c. margarine or butter, chopped into pieces

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease the bottom and sides of a 7x11 inch glass pan.

2. Spread the apples in the pan.

3. Combine the dry ingredients in a medium bowl. With a pastry cutter, cut in the butter until crumbly.

4. Sprinkle the oat mixture evenly over the apples. Bake for 30-45 minutes until apples are tender. You can test it to see if a toothpick will easily go through the apples. Topping the crisp with foil will prevent it from browning.

Helpful Tip: This crisp is delicious served warm with ice cream or the next day for breakfast with some hot cider on the side.

*Adapted from The Big Red Cookbook from Betty Crocker

Do you have a favorite fall dessert?

 

 

 

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A Loyal Family Pet Is Never Forgotten

Every single year, I plant scores of impatiens along our front side sidewalk. They're the only flowers that bloom really well, all summer long, in our yard. Our home is surrounded by dozens of towering trees, which create a blanket of shade, so we simply cannot have flowers that require any amount of sunshine. I'm actually completely fine with it, because impatiens are quite lovely and have a special meaning to me.

Impatiens are the flowers that lined my parents' sidewalk on my wedding day, and they are the flowers that lined our sidewalk in the home we owned when our first three babies were born. I'm glad we have a shaded yard where they flourish. They bring a smile to my face every time I look out my window or pull into my driveway. Plus, I have what people call a black thumb, and these hardy beauties practically take care of themselves.

The impatiens I choose each year are always varying shades of pinks and purples. Our four kids often help me plant them, but this year, since my foot was broken, Mark did all the work. They linger into September for us, and that means they are always providing a beautiful background for our first day of school photos.

For almost twelve years, we had a dear golden retriever named Abby. I loved posing her in front of our impatiens, with her light yellow fur popping against the vibrant hues of our favorite flowers. Abby was such a special part of our family for so long, as I know anyone with a pet understands. She was in our lives before any of our babies were born, and Mark trained her on his own before we were married. She lovingly welcomed each new addition into our home and guarded over our babies them like a mama. She laid next to my rocker while I nursed them, slept at the feet of their beds, and nuzzled against them while they played on the floor. She was a world traveler, living with us in Japan for our two year expatriate stay. She guarded our home during Mark's many business trips and welcomed him home like the loyal girl that she was. She was silky soft and therapeutic and just a blessing to everyone who knew her. She lived a great, long life. Abby was a happy dog with a fun family who really, really loved her.

This week, it will have been three years since our Abby-girl passed away. We all still talk often about Abby and her antics. Just the other day, we were laughing at the time she caught her paw in a glue trap...while a live mouse was still attached to it.

On the day that we lost her, we posed her in front of our impatiens one final time.

 

 

This September, every time I look at my still-blossoming impatiens, I find myself thinking of our sweet Abby. I long for the days when she was lying on our sidewalk, her fluffy, golden hair blowing in the wind, waiting for her babies to come home to play.   

 

I'm seeing a lot of friends who are losing their pets this year. We seem to be at that age now when we've been married for as long as a first dog or cat will live. Our children are suffering the loss of their beloved furry family members. I wish anyone peace who has to come through this sad time with your children.

 

Will you tell me about your family pets and what they mean to you?

Home

As I sat down to write tonight, I realized it is the eve of the 13th anniversary of September 11th, 2001, yet until five minutes ago, I had only planned to write about zucchini bread. I know that in the morning, when I publish this post, everyone's feeds will be lined with memories and American flags and quotes like, "We will never forget." My post will feature a recipe for my mom's zucchini bread. How can my words be relevant on such a momentous and somber day? A day that is meant for remembrance and reflection?

My mom's zucchini bread is meaningful. It is a part of me. It is part of my family, my history, and making it tonight has helped me to remember and reflect.

Today was a long, rainy, and just overall dark day. It was chilly and somehow felt especially lonely. It was one of the rare days when I had those 2.5 hours to myself, and while I was able to spend a bit of it with a beautiful friend of mine, I also felt a little lost while all of my children were at school.

The nagging rain was wearing me down. I needed something to pick me up, more than the hugs and smiles the kids brought with them as they bounded through the doors at the end of their day. People were talking about rainy day baking today, and suddenly, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to bake.

It's my therapy. It's my happy place.

Trixie was playing on the computer with her brothers, but I asked her if she wanted to help me make some of Grandma's zucchini bread. I was expecting her to say no, but she enthusiastically said yes. She rushed right into the kitchen with me then started opening cabinet doors and drawers, finding all of the ingredients, measuring cups, and bowls that we needed to make this quintessential fall treat. I shredded the zucchini, and away we went with making warm memories together. We set to work on baking the drear away.

We chatted about her day at school and how much she likes her new music teacher. She told me that she couldn't wait until October when we could start baking pumpkin muffins. Standing at the counter with my ten-year-old daughter, making this recipe that I had learned from my own mom when I was a little girl, was an incredible way to spend what had just been a pretty depressing day. This had been an icky, gloomy night before one of the worst dates in our nation's history.

I didn't expect the rush of emotions that ran through me when I bit into that freshly sliced, still-warm-from-the-oven zucchini bread that Trixie and I baked together. I felt just like a little girl, standing in my parents' kitchen in a flannel nightgown. I remembered baking those loaves many times for my dad to share with his friends at the mill. I remembered taking them to school to pass around my sixth grade social studies class. I remembered coming home from college to find my mom had some waiting for me on the kitchen table. The smell of the cinnamon, the taste and the texture of that sweet bread: all of it took me right back to being a kid again, being home with my mom, my dad, and my brothers.

Zucchini bread. It's so simple, yet so heartwarming. So what if the recipe is at least 40 years old and calls for two cups of sugar? We only eat it a few times a year. It's worth it for the special treat and the memories we're making. Our whole family enjoyed the moist, delicious bread with glasses of ice cold milk, while the rain kept falling through the trees outside our window. 

As you read this post on September 11th, our children will have woken up to carry on with the life that they know as American kids in 2014. Their world is nothing like the world I knew when I was baking zucchini bread at ages eleven or ten or seven or four. I'm sad for the changes that have come through the years, but I'm also thankful for what has stayed the same.

Dads going to work; moms baking in the kitchen; kids drinking milk. 

 

Home.  

 

May we always remember.

 

 

Grandma's Zucchini Bread
3 eggs
1 c. vegetable oil
2 c. grated zucchini
2 c. sugar
2 tsp. vanilla

3 c. flour
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
3 tsp. cinnamon

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  In a large bowl, combine the first five ingredients.  In another bowl, whisk together the last five dry ingredients.  Gently fold them together, not overbeating. Pour into 2 greased and floured loaf pans. Bake for 10 minutes at 400, then lower the temperature to 350 and bake for 30 more minutes, or until golden brown and toothpick inserted comes out clean.  Immediately remove from pans and cool on a wire rack. 

*You may also add 1/2 c. chopped nuts to the dry ingredients.  I like it with pecans.

What constants from your childhood have you passed on to your children? What is "Home" to you?

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The Joys of U-Picking. Wait, Is That Even a Word?

We live in a city where U-pick farms are abundant:  strawberries, blueberries, apples, and pumpkins are our favorites.  Each year, we manage to  pick fruit from at least one or two of them.  Yesterday, I took two of our kiddos blueberry picking, which happened to be one of the best u-pick experiences we have had in the six years since we've lived here. 

The apple orchard is a rite of passage field trip for the little ones but also a really great time for moms, dads, grandmas, and grandpas.  We load up on bushels full of apples to take home for apple pies, apple sauce, apple cake, and just lots of fresh juicy apple eating. 

Strawberry picking is perfect for the short bodies of children, since the berries grow really low to the ground.  We didn't make it out this year because this was the summer my foot was broken, and the fields are muddy and full of bugs.  Not conducive conditions for  my glorious boot.  We purchased our strawberries from the local farmers' market instead, which means they're just as sweet and juicy, just cost a teeny bit more.  Everyone around here makes jam.  I do not.  I eat the strawberries, bake with them, and then freeze some with the intention to make smoothies with them.  Also, something I don't really do. 

The pumpkin patch is hit or miss being in the Midwestern Fall.  It's fun to ride out into the farm on a tractor full of hay with the kids.  Some years, it's gorgeous weather; others, it's wet and cold.  That's just the way it goes around here.  If we make it out to pick our own pumpkins, good for the kids.  They have fun choosing one that's just right for them, still on the vine with plenty of dirt all around.  If not, they'll have not quite as much fun choosing one from the giant bin at Meijer.  Those are actually much cheaper, so when we're buying four of them, sometimes it's just the way to go.

Now on to what is always my favorite fruit to pick:  blueberries.  They're so easy!  You do not have to worry about them bruising or being smashed in your bucket like apples and strawberries.  They are just so hardy and fall right off the bushes with the slightest wiggle.  I usually take all four kids to pick blueberries, but this year, two of them were with their grandparents for the week.  Trixie and Marshall  were the ones with me, so we went together on what turned out to be just the most beautiful day.  No sweltering sun beating down on us, no mosquitoes buzzing around, just an overcast afternoon where we could take our time and talk peacefully to each other through the blueberry bushes.

The farm had small colored sand buckets for kids like Marshall, and bigger white buckets for Trixie and me.  We tied the buckets around our necks and trudged through the fields to find bushes overflowing with round, dark berries.  We also ran into some friends of ours, so we chatted with them while searching for those sweet, juicy fruits to take home.  The three kids in that family were having a contest to see who could pick the most!  What a great idea for mine next year.  I'm totally stealing it. 

Marshall was eating every other berry he picked off the bushes.  It's typical for him (and even allowed).  Last year when we picked strawberries, he took a bite out of every single berry before he placed them in his bucket.   He and Trixie were so proud of the blueberry haul they procured in forty short minutes.   I'm proud of them, too, and thankful for the year's worth of treats we'll have because of their quick work.  Pancakes, muffins, pies, buckles, cakes, cheesecakes-yummy! 

A few times while we were out in the fields, seemingly out of nowhere, Marshall called to me through the bushes, "Mama, I love you!"  Gosh, what a sweet sound from my sweet little boy.  I really needed to hear it.   In a few months, the warmth of Summer days will be replaced by the chill of Winter nights.  When we wake up on a cold, snowy morning and the kids ask for me to bake some blueberry muffins, I'll march down to the basement to pull a bag of our frozen berries from the freezer.   I'll sigh and fondly recall the comforting feelings of this fantastic U-pick day! 

Check out the recipe I use for Blueberry Buckle:  http://mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo.blogspot.com/2014/07/blueberry-buckle.html


A past trip with all four kids to the blueberry farm:  a wonderful family bonding experience! 

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Mom, It Doesn't Have to be Perfect

Baking with my four children was something I have loved doing since they were each about eighteen months old, using this cherished time together for many reasons. I loved seeing them peek over the counter from atop a kitchen chair, using their stubby little fingers to stir eggs and measure cinnamon. We discussed the shapes and colors of the ingredients as we added them to the bowls. As a teacher, I tried to incorporate some math facts when they were old enough to understand concepts like addition and fractions. I enjoyed sharing my hobby with them, teaching them a life skill that they hopefully would pass on to their own children some day. I wanted to help them create something they could see and taste with pride. 

My daughter, Trixie, was only seven years old when we were finishing up a cake together. She had done her best to frost the cake in a way any young girl would. When she was finished, I took the offset spatula from her little hands and adjusted the icing a bit, sighing a little at the need to redo the work. Right away, Trixie said, "Mom, it doesn't have to be perfect."  The instant those words came out of her sweet little mouth, it was like I had been hit with a brick. Of course it didn't have to be perfect. Why hadn't I thought of that sooner?  It was a cake we were making  to share with her dad and three brothers. Cakes did not have to be perfect. I did not need to do things perfectly, and neither did my children. 

This epiphany from Trixie strongly resonated with me, and I wanted to share it with people. I wanted to share this one simple sentence with everyone I knew. "Mom, it doesn't have to be perfect." How amazing it was that a child's mind could see the way life should really be, and she was innocent enough to tell us. I sadly thought back to the past eight years of baking with the kids, hoping that I had not made them feel pressure to make our treats perfect.  

Trixie's advice made its way into every part of my life. It was not until after that memorable day in the kitchen that I realized I had been battling with perfectionism for years. I examined the way I was living, and I made a conscious decision not to worry about being perfect anymore. It was the best decision I have ever made.

Did I feel happy when others enjoyed my homemade treats or told me that my themed parties were so wonderful? Did I enjoy hearing friends compliment me on my perfect children, my perfect hospitality, my perfect leadership skills? Of course I did. Who wouldn't love all those compliments?  Unfortunately, it had come to a point where I felt that if I did not keep up with that perfect appearance, I would disappoint people. My mom used to tell me that once I turned 40, I would stop worrying about what everyone thought and relax. Thanks to Trixie, it only took me until I was 33 to figure it out. 

I have other close friends who have similar personalities as mine. I have been spending the past few years encouraging them to drop the perfectionist facade and just be themselves. Through talking with them, I have learned that they, too, have struggled with this need to be perfect in others' eyes.  A perfect wife, a perfect employee, a perfect mom and hostess. We have all been slowly but surely letting go, and when we are together, we enjoy each others' company instead of trying to be so perfect.

What's funny is that people have now told me that the fact I did things so "perfectly" made them feel badly about themselves, which was never my intention. I recently made some raspberry cookies for an event. When my friend told me I made her feel badly about herself because she did not make cookies like mine, I made sure to let her know that the cookies came from a mix, and I just slapped some raspberry jam in the center. I was nowhere close to perfect...not in the kitchen and not in life.

I continue to bake with my children. It will always be one of my favorite things to do with them. The older two can now complete a recipe on their own, and the younger ones are quick to hop up to the counter when I ask for some help with muffins or cookies. I still have to remind myself that I will never be perfect, and I need to make sure my children do not think they have to be perfect either. People will still like them, and their cakes will still taste delicious, I'm sure of it! 

I'd love for you to find me on Facebook: 

https://www.facebook.com/mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo

 

School Supplies-Like Christmas in July

A normal summer chore, shopping for school supplies, turned out to be just what our family needed this weekend. We usually go close to the end of summer, when the stores are crowded with frenzied moms searching for all the right items on their lists. Our little planner girl had been bugging me to take her shopping since she received her supply list in the mail back in June. She even made sure to type it and save the list to my desktop, just in case the original was lost or destroyed. As if that ever happens in our house. When is the last time an important paper had milk accidentally spilled on it or was tossed in the garbage with a piece of chewed gum wrapped inside of it? 

Trixie was especially excited to shop for school supplies in July, but I really was not that eager to go at first. We still have over six weeks left of summer vacation, so I felt like shopping now would damper our chill vibe. I did not want to think about what preparing for fall involves: waking up for school and packing lunches and monitoring homework and balancing the schedules-for four very different children! I felt like we just finished doing it for last year, why would I want to face the inevitable mayhem awaiting us in September?

Surprisingly, something completely different happened while Trixie and I shopped together. I was like a giddy school girl myself, strolling up and down the aisles of Staples. I was having a crazy good time helping her choose a new backpack, folders, and scissors, but I also found myself becoming excited at the trendy aqua colored journals and cool containers of push pins. Can you believe how many colors of Sharpies are available now? That store is like a sea of possibilities, overflowing with really fun tools and incredible supplies. Oh, the stories I could tell, the papers I could organize, the pencils I could sharpen. I kept imagining that I was like Kathleen Kelly, dreaming about bouquets of newly sharpened pencils from Joe Fox, er, I mean from Mark. 

I longed for everything new for myself. Instead, I practiced restraint and focused my energy on finding just the right items for all the kids. Marshall does not need his own supplies for preschool, but I knew that he would love to have something new like his older siblings. An eight pack of really fat crayons and some colored pencils of his own have absolutely hit the spot. Chip is thrilled to have his first 64-pack of crayons. He cannot believe how huge it is and yelled, "Mom, it even has sea green!" Reese's middle school binder is chock full of crisp white notebooks and a brand new pencil case. Trixie's backpack is sweet and sassy, and she already checked to make sure her snow pants will fit inside it this winter.

The fun did not stop at the store. Teacher Trixie had the boys sit in a circle while she pulled items out of the shopping bags. They made a game of it, guessing which supplies were for which kid. Second-grader Chip was hoping they were all for him. I could not stop smiling while I experienced the newness through the eyes of these children. The teacher in me, the mom in me, and the school-loving little girl in me are so thrilled that my children are having as much fun with preparing for school as I always did. I could not believe how gracious and thankful they were. It really was like Christmas morning, although they were shrieking over pencils and Post-Its instead of Legos and Wii games. We experienced a proud parent moment for sure. Now we can relax and enjoy the rest of summer knowing their bags are packed and ready to go. That is until the first day rolls around in September and the chaos begins again.

I'd love for you to find me on Facebook: 

https://www.facebook.com/mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo