I don’t know about you, but January 2025 is quickly flying by. Some of you may know that I belong to a wonderful writing group. We meet every two weeks in my dear A’s art studio where we share our latest poem or prose piece. Usually we choose a prompt for inspiration. Our most recent prompt was, “Silence.” I sat with that word and what it meant to me for a whole week but nothing came. Hoping meditation would help, I sat some more. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It wasn’t until the weekend before we were to gather, while whipping up a batch of date cookies when a story finally emerged. I’d like to share that story with you now. Maybe it will ignite a memory from your past when a moment of silence planted a seed that grew in your life too. However, if you’re only here for my Date cookie recipe, ha! scroll to the bottom. These cookies are soft, chewy and oh so flavourfull. Healthy too! Perfect for sharing with my writing buds….or taking to a neighbour.
It’s 1964. I’m four years old. My family and I live in a small town on the West Coast of Canada, called Hope, where everyone knows what day you change your sheets from the wispy ghosts flapping behind your house. Surrounding our sleepy town are tall, heavily forested mountains. They stand like sentinels protecting us while making room for B.C. longest river, the mighty Fraser, which steadily flows with a greeny gray grace of a water determined to be one with the ocean.
Our two story clapboard house is never quiet. My three older sisters make sure of that. My oldest sister Bonnie is 17 and only comes home to change her clothes and sleep, as her world revolves around school sports, friends and a boy named Dick. Cherie is 15 and loves to read but she also enjoys turning our record player on to its highest setting. Dad often tells her and visiting friends that they are going to wear a hole in the carpet from all her twisting, jiving and doing the monkey. Joni, my sister closest in age to me, was born nine years ago, during a blue baby streak in our neiighbourhood. Needless to say, if she wants to play with her peers, she’s often running in and out looking for her baseball mitt, her frog collecting buckets, or begging our Dad to tweak her go cart, so she can beat the pants off all the boys in the neighbourhood.
I like to play with my dolls. I have two soft bodied baby dolls named Sindy and Suzie. Although they are similar in size, they didn’t look alike at first, until I took my little yellow giraffe scissors and cut off all their hair. Now they are both bald and are twins. Today, I carefully dress them, talking to them about our upcoming adventure. Sindy is in blue and Suzie in pink. With them dressed I put my attention to the drawer built under the stairs. I pull and pull. Wood on wood grinds but finally the drawer opens. My eyes are bright.
This is our treasure drawer.
Dad is so clever. He built a set of stairs at the end of the bedroom I share with Joni. Under these stairs is our special toy drawer. The stairs head up into the attic where Bonnie and Cherie each have a bedroom with sloped ceilings and dormer windows. At the top of the stairs is a little alcove Dad built for himself. It’s his writing space. As I’m drifting off to sleep at night I hear him tapping away on his black underwood typewriter. Deep into the night I hear the typewriter’s rhythmic song, while from the kitchen mom’s Singer sewing machine steadily clicks, remaking hand me down clothes, given to us by our Auntie Lennie.
Every space in our house is used. In our drawer I spy Joni’s baseball cards, her bag of marbles and her neglected Barbie. I’m not allowed to touch it, but my eyes feast on her blonde ponytail and sleek black and white striped bathing suit. I push down my jealous desire and reach instead for the little brown checked suitcase that holds my tea set. After that, I dig out my favourite dress up outfit. I’m getting really good at buttons and zippers and I grin when I successful zip and button myself into my purple silky dress. I like the swishy sound of the fabric against my leg.
Into my little wicker buggy goes my blue and white tea set along with Sindy and Suzie. Then off the end of my bed I tug off the quilt my Grandma Clark made just for me. On each square, a nursery rhyme and picture is embroidered. I’ve now memorized all the words to each rhyme so as I start to push my buggy I sing, “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a big fall, All the King’s horses and all the King’s men, couldn’t put Humpty together again!”
(Below is a picture of the little ceramic Humpty Dumpty man I had for years in my bedroom. I don’t have him any longer but I was able to find a picture of exactly what he looked like)
I push the buggy out into the hall and down to the kitchen where mom is standing at her spot in front of the sink. She turns and asks, “What are you doing Debbie?” “Just taking my babies out for some fresh air.” I say. “Oh that’s nice,” she says, “Let me help you lift the buggy outside.” And she opens our back door and lifts my buggy with all my treasures inside. She places it onto our backyard grass.
I stroll the buggy over to our lilac tree, next to our white picket fence and lay my quilt under the tree. The purple blossoms are starting to fall in snowy drifts and the scent is sweet and pleasant. It’s a perfect place for our tea party. I gently lift the twins and sit them together, leaning against the tree trunk. Carefully I place a tiny teacup and saucer in front of each of them and then place one on the quilt for me too. I pour our pretend tea and then I hear the screen door slam. Mom is coming out with a little bowl. Oh goodie! My face lights up as this will be more than a pretend day. “Here you go miss Debbie,” she says, giving me a small bowl with three date cookies inside. “Thank you,” I say, feeling my best manners are in order. She wipes her hands on her apron, smiles at me with her twinkling green eyes and heads back into the house. The screen door slams again.
We munch on cookies and sip our tea. I look up and see shapes in the fluffy clouds passing by above us. Other than drifting clouds all is still.
Where is everybody? I stand up and start to dance, twirling and lifting my long dress to the music only I hear. Little do I know but in this moment of joy filled silence I’m scattering seeds.
My babies quietly sit on the quilt looking out into the yard.
Fast forward now. It’s decades later. It’s a winter Sunday and my husband David and our three youngest are up at the ski hill for the day. After their noisy, getting ready to ski chaos, our house is blissfully quiet. I’ve spent the day in a state of delicious relaxation; reading my latest library book, relishing in a long hot bath and finally going out for a chilly walk in our neighbourhood. Only a few people pass by, their dog leading the way. Not wanting to break the silence, I only nod and smile as we pass by each other. I get back home feeling peaceful and with the cold still on my face I start brewing some late afternoon tea. It’s steeping when our garage door clicks and rattles open. Moments later David and the kids spill into the kitchen with rosy cheeks and stories of how our son Will’s spectacular wipe out on the run called, “Attridge,” was the epic moment of the day. Everyone laughs. Thankfully no one is hurt. David finally heads to his den and Will to his bedroom. My twin daughters linger in the kitchen. Victoria asks, “what kind of tea are you making?” “Earl Gray,” I say, “Ohhhh, yummy,” she says, “can we make London Fog?” “Yeah! and have a few cookies too,” says Kate, reaching into the newly filled glass cookie jar.
I start pouring three cups of steaming tea, Victoria brings milk, honey and vanilla. Kate brings a plate of cookies to the table. For a moment all is quiet and in that empty space, in that sacred silence, I’m whooshed back to a long remembered tea party. A precious time when seeds were planted.
Two magic seeds. The best seeds are planted in silence and joy!
~The End~
Below, my bald babies born, May 20, 2011, decades after that tea party under the lilac tree. In a little town called, Hope.
Above, Kathryn Mira (R) and Victoria Hope (L)…..inspired by Suzy and Sindy
and below Katie left and Tori right….
Victoria is left above and Kathryn is right…..this is their 1st birthday picture…..my sweet bald babies!!!
And below my babies are growing….Victoria (L) Kathryn (R) Their hair is finally growing, ha….Victoria’s is light brown and curly and Kathryn’s is blonde and straight
Above are a few pictures of Kathryn and Victoria….my sweet twins. Looking at these pictures makes me want to pinch myself because seeing them, having them in my life is a testament to seeds we plant, dreams we dream, visions of what we want in our life…all comes to pass in time. And that’s why it’s so important we plant good seeds. What seeds have you planted that have come to bloom in your garden?
What seeds are you planting now?
And now that you’ve read one of my stories, maybe it’s time for you to write your story. I’d love to hear if the word, “Silence,” inspires something from your past. And speaking of goodness, let’s make some cookies. I hope you enjoy the recipe below. I like to play around with it and add various spices and also top it with different nuts and seeds. Sprinkle it with a bit of icing sugar and it’s a special tea cookie!!!
On this Wintery day it’s the perfect time to make some cookies which will still be warm when my family comes home from the ski hill.
Date Cookies
Ingredients
2 cups chopped dates
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 cup margarine or butter/softened
1 teaspoon vanilla…also for flavouring I like to use grated orange peel
3 eggs
4 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon….this is optional but I like to add warm spices especially for winter baking
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans
optional: 1/4 cup icing sugar for dusting
Directions
In medium saucepan, combine dates, 1/2 cup sugar and water. Cook over medium heat until thickened, stirring occasionally. Cool
Heat oven to 375 degrees F. Grease cookie sheets. In large bowl, beat brown sugar, 1/2 cup sugar and margarine until light and fluffy. Add vanilla and eggs; (also orange peel if desired, blend well. Stir in flour, baking soda and salt and spices; mix well.
Stir in date mixture and nuts. Drop dough by rounded teaspoonfuls 2 inches apart onto greased cookie sheets.
Bake for 8 to 10 minutes until golden brown. (I make my cookies bigger so they take 10 to 12 minutes)
Immediately remove from cookie sheets Yield 6 dozen cookies…optional…sprinkle with icing sugar….Enjoy them with a cup of tea!
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
We humans crave peace and quiet, yet we rally above it with a clamour of discontent, as we war among ourselves. It’s enough to make me shudder, and my teeth ache over the senselessness of all the chaos happening in our world. I’ve been thinking of this and also a story from my childhood and any serene moments that I’ve tried to shift my thoughts to instead, are disturbed by an inner turbulent dialogue. From a past muted mist, the following emerges like an incessant docudrama.
The first scene is me sitting in a dark basement apartment with furniture from the 50’s, but it’s January 1977. I’m six months away from graduating from grade twelve. I’m lonely, with only dead silence for company. In the next scene, I’m squirreled away in a bedroom with real grown up furniture and it’s 2024. Desperately I’m typing. I’ve been trying to write my memoir. It’s slow going but page by page it’s being written, despite the erupting cacophony from the floor above. Is there ever silence in this house? There is a knock, a head peaks in. I don’t look up but respond tersely, “I’m writing.” The door closes again. Perhaps, this story can only be written in the wee hours on Mother’s day. I wish I could sleep but sometimes I think, I just need to get it out or I’ll explode, so here I am finally, with the house breathtakingly still, typing my past away so I can finally fall back to sleep.
This story is dedicated to my mom. I wonder what she would make of it.
Under our deck and next to our grape trellis, a family of Robins have built a cozy nest. I didn’t notice it until I was doing some grape pruning and mama Robin surprised me when she flew out and away from her babies. Watching her leave took me way back and I wondered if my own mom had observed how mama birds made their babies fly, by kicking them out of the nest. Perhaps she may have thought that was a bit harsh. And with that mindset, when she became a mother and her fledgling babies, my three sisters and I were getting to the age of flying, she decided it would be a good idea to leave the nest first.
And not come back.
I’ll never know if it was a conscious decision. Maybe it was just a convenient series of life events and circumstances that created each leaving occurance. Kind of like when I was about to turn 16 and apply for my driver’s licence, when interestingly enough my parents decided to sell their second car. I never learned to drive until I was out on my own. But I digress, whether the whole leaving thing was well thought out or not, it all felt like abandonment to me. Obviously it still bothers me or I wouldn’t be lying awake writing it down. I won’t go into the details over each departure, but suffice it to say, when my own children were born, like a scratch on a record that ruins the music, my mother’s choice(s) made me sing another tune to my kids. With a reassuring rhythm I told them I’d always be there for them and they’d always have a home.
I started singing that song thirty four years ago and since then, our house has gotten progressively louder and noisier as our eight children were born one by one, or in the case of our twins, two by two. Yes, booming bedlam would be an apt description for our household. Did I mention that along with the regular racket that comes from a family of ten, our kids all play(ed) several instruments between them? A typical day would begin as our oldest woke the household with a steady beat of scales played on the piano. This would go on for an hour before the school bus arrived. Then upon returning home, each would take up their respective instrument and violin, cello, drums and guitar chords could be heard spilling from all the various rooms.
Thankfully, flute, alto sax and bass guitar were mainly practiced at school and our daughter Grace, who took voice lessons, only ever sang in her bedroom. If I’d have been smart, I would have had them all play piano, ‘cause unlike a lot of instruments, it’s always in tune. Also, if I’d been thinking clearly I would have spaced our kids closer together, so I’d be living in a calm house at this time but no, like a crazy woman on a mission, I spaced them out to enjoy them fully and experience this whole messy motherhood gig to the hilt. Happy Mother’s Day to me! At this precise moment, we have five kids in the house. We were down to four, but then our oldest decided to return for a while.
Being the oldest, she heard my song and dance routine longer than everyone else and I guess she took me at my word. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s back, but if there wasn’t enough commotion in our house, she has moved back home with two cats, one being extremely noisy. The word, caterwauling comes to mind when Emy’s insistent yowls echo through our four walls. Add that to the pandemonium my youngest twin daughter’s make on a regular basis, along with their teenage brother, and a Mack truck could drive through my kitchen at dinner time and I’d hardly notice.
Lately in the wee hours of the morning when my bladder reminds me that yes, I did have eight children. I’m rewarded with a bit of hushed stillness as I lay back in bed and sigh. I could almost slip back into oblivion except my peace is disturbed when my monkey brain starts swinging on my upcoming todo list. Or in the case of this story that just wants to be written. There are times I wish I was a painter instead. I’ll have to ask my sister C, if she wakes up in the early hours to paint a picture. Wait, actually, I think she doesn’t even go to bed some nights as she paints into the wee hours.
Anyway… It’s times like this that I start counting the years until any possible tranquility will be mine and I almost laugh out loud.
Maybe this is why mom left us; to find some peace.
That’s when I also hear my husband’s imagined voice telling me, “Lee, you’ll have peace and silence when you’re dead.” Speaking of husbands, I could probably fall back to sleep easier if he weren’t lying next to me rhythmically breathing so peacefully beside me. It’s unnerving and incredibly annoying. I want to hit him and wake him up so I can sleep. But I don’t. Even the glow from my computer and the click, click, click of my typing doesn’t wake him. How lucky some people are I think. Somewhere in our house a phone is vibrating. A message is coming through and I think, “don’t people ever sleep?”
Taking slow relaxing breaths, I notice that our white bedroom curtains are lightening, and through our slightly opened window I hear a few early birds welcoming the day with happy chirps. I’m not amused, but I wonder if that isn’t my mama Robin singing wake up, wake up to her babies. I look at my illuminated Fit bit and see it’s now 4:30 am. It’s time to wrap up this story.
Three more hours until I want to wake up. That is, if I ever get back to sleep. The weather has been unseasonably warm and I want to plant my vegetable garden. Digging in the dirt, even on Mother’s day is my happy place. A car drives by below our house and across the lake, a steady din from the highway is noticeable. Other people are awake and going places early on this Mother’s day. I want to go back to sleep but more mom thoughts come to mind. She’s been gone twelve years now. There are days when I wish I could just pick up the phone and hear her voice. I have things I still want to ask her. Things I want to know.
My body starts feeling heavy under our weightless down comforter and any thoughts start wandering away with gentle ease. I’m typing fewer words and finally I close my computer lid and set it aside. I’m entering an empty vastness. A place where I am free. I’m home in silence and peace. I start to float up and up and away from this earthly body with any concerns or worry. Drifting off now the last thing I hear coming from deep in my heart on this Mother’s day are the words,
“you are so loved my little bird.”
I let those words be the last thing I hear. I know I will remember them upon waking and I will write them down.
I love you too mom. Happy Mother’s Day!
Above, my mom with my three older sisters and my Dad’s parents, Bob and Flossie Clark. Below is my family, Mom, Dad and my sisters…I really like this picture because it’s one where my mom is holding me and she is so stunningly beautiful.
Above is a picture from one of the last birthdays we celebrated with my mom. Her birthday was often the first day of Spring, March 20th so while she is always in my heart, this time of year she is more so…and of course today on Mother’s day. Even when our moms may not be with us any longer, they are always with us. And finally, I’m able to put any sense of abandonment I felt when she left me in Grade twelve to rest. I’m at peace. I’ve written them down and let them go. As I have learned, being a mom is a tough job. I think my mom always did it with grace, dignity and lots of humour…oh and MUCH LOVE. She’s a tough act to follow!
Happy Mother’s Day mom!
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
And to my faded blue jeans with the flowers patched on the pocket
Saying goodbye to a guest is never easy
Maybe she knew and left without wanting to see my tears
I hold her in my heart and hope she returns once more
Until then I open my arms to a new season
Welcome Autumn
You too, are my blessed friend
Lee Reynolds
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..My dearest friends and family,
I hope this post finds you well. I haven’t written on my blog in a coon’s age so I may have lost my whole audience. I know, I know, we’ve all been busy, but today, I wanted to drop a line and share some of this week’s memories before they fly by. Life is flying by.
As the garden gate closes with a sigh, we are spending more time indoors. My youngest children went trick or treating this week. I’m counting down now, there won’t be many more years when they are wanting to dress up and gather treats from the neighbours. Like the changing seasons, it’s bitter sweet watching my children grow. Some parents may be hurrying their children towards independence but not me. I savour every stage. Each moment of development is treasured and I only wish they would slow down a bit.
Below are some Halloween pics of Victoria/aka Mario and her twin side kick Kathryn, (aka Rosalina) The girls went trick or treating with all their friends who were dressed up as various characters from the Mario and Luigi group. Will (the ghoulish convict) decided to dress up very last minute and join a few of his friends who are small fourteen year olds. He’s now topping 6’1″ so we wondered what people would think when he went trick or treating but no one said anything. Maybe they have my philosophy that as long as you dress up and are polite, treats will be bestowed gladly.
The spider over the entrance to our front door is made from two, black plastic bags. One for the body and the other is cut into eight strips. Anything left over is part of its’ stuffing. I use old tissue paper for the stuffing. The eyes and mouth are just cut out from construction paper. When the legs blow in the wind it’s rather scary. Also, we play this timeless music, “Chamber of Horrors,” hiding a Bluetooth speaker near the front door.
Halloween Cookies below are in my Recipes listed under Sugar Cookies....Just decorate with some candy corn, smarties and chocolate chips
I hope you enjoyed seeing a few pics from our Halloween 2023. It always goes by in a blur but oh isn’t it fun. It’s hard to believe that fall is here but the days are cold and crisp, although the sun warms us up mid day. Last fall it was warm so long that the tree’s leaves remained and then suddenly winter came and the leaves hadn’t dropped. It’s reassuring when the seasons change, while hard to say goodbye, life is a series of transformations. Time to bloom, and time to rest, Time to grow and time to reflect.
As the season changes I hope wherever you are it moves with ease and grace and all things good come your way.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
I’ve had him for eighteen years. You’d think that would be enough, but it’s not. And yet, I’m ever so mindful that I have been blessed. I am a blessed, beyond measure mom. I’m blessed, because I know there are women out there, who would have given anything for just one day holding their baby.
There are women out there, who will never know the joy of watching their baby take his first step, say mama for the first time, watch him turn back with a smile and a wave as he heads off to kindergarten and finally say, “I love you,” as he leans down for a hug and a kiss before heading off to University.
And so with that awareness and with tears in my eyes, I say goodbye. Not just for me but for those women who will never even have the chance to say, “hello.” It’s a knowledge that fills me up with abundant gratitude and humbleness, it spills out of my heart with vast appreciation for all I’ve been given, so that on days like this, I remember, it could have been different.
I could have been that other woman.
Also, Harrison was a baby that almost wasn’t.
I was in my late 30’s when he was born. Very late. In fact, I turned 39 a month before he was born and in those days, well even in these days, there is this belief that once you hit 40, it’s game over as far as fertility goes. He made it in what most would call under the wire since most couples choose to have their families before they hit that “Four oh” number.
Another reason Harrison was almost not on earth was because well, I had a husband who was content and happy with our three children. We had our lovely daughter Alyssa Rae, and our son Clark Douglas (named after my dad and David’s grandfather) and even had a “bonus,” baby, “Mitchell David,” who was born when I was thirty six. (David was 37)
When I watched our three kids have their snacks around the colourful, little Tykes picnic table in our kitchen, it always felt like someone was missing. I couldn’t explain this to anyone, but it felt like a deep void in our family. Our best friends at the time, all felt that a two child family was perfect and they often referred to our family of five as BIG, and they were in awe as to how we managed it.
Also, my in laws felt we had pushed the limits when we had had three children. Certainly, my mother in law didn’t understand why I would give up my career and have a third baby. She shook her head and said, “if we had had a choice, we would have only had two children.” Hmmm, I often wondered how their daughter and son, who were number 3 and 4 felt about THAT! Maybe they didn’t even know that these were her feelings, or did they? Even my mom, who loved babies, felt like I had my hands full with our three and when I tried to share my dream of having one more baby, she didn’t understand, even though I was HER number four baby.
But life has a way of flowing and finding it’s natural progression and like a river, whose destiny is to meet the ocean, Harrison glimpsed an opening and quietly slipped through the curtain to find his way under my heart.
He was meant to be.
That was a tough pregnancy for me emotionally, since most of my support system didn’t understand my desire for another baby. They were all perplexed as to why we would have one more. Also, David spent most of those nine months very quiet. At first, he was concerned that with us being older, there would be health issues for the baby or myself but even after the amnio results assured us that our little one was perfect, he remained detached from me. I suppose in hindsight, he was trying to come to terms with having a larger family, one bigger than he had ever dreamed of, and of course, now that he was the main breadwinner, he was probably feeling stressed.
The moment Harrison was born though, two weeks early just before Christmas in 1998, it felt like he had always been with us. He was the sweetest baby and made these soft mewing noises as he settled into my arms. And if David had any misgivings of having another baby, they vanished when holding his son for the first time for he realized that he looked, EXACTLY like him.
Harrison Drew, finally in my arms. I knew this baby was meant to be!
The most peaceful, yet powerful thing is watching your strong husband sleep with your tiny baby..David and Harrison
Harrison with his classic pooh bear. I used to sing a little song to him, “Harrison Drew, Winnie the Pooh, what a sweet, sweet little babe.”
In retrospect, little Harrison Drew’s babyhood and childhood flew by. When you have many children, the focus is always moving and although it lingers on which ever child needs the most attention in the moment, or which ever child is shining the brightest, Harrison always found a way to lighten our household with his quick wit and brilliant humour and we paused to admire this lovely child as he grew. He was strong minded as well, so in that regard he was an easy child to raise because we knew exactly what he liked and did not like….and his stubbornness meant we couldn’t sway him.
When Harrison arrived, he just completed our family nicely….four was our number for a long while
I’ll never forget picking him up from preschool one time and he looked up at me and complained, “they made me do a craft today!” he wailed. And over his head, me with questioning eyes found his teacher Jennifer laughing. She explained that, “well, yes, we had him make a finger puppet today so he could participate when we read a special book at story time.” I looked at his big blue eyes (they are now more green like mine) with their long lashes and had to laugh. Yes, this little boy knew exactly what he wanted in life and it was not doing crafts!
In this picture you can see that colourful picnic table in our kitchen…it always felt like someone was missing until Harrison arrived. Here are Harrison and Mitchell with Harrison’s new birthday gift…fire engine
But he moved through his childhood with a determination of knowing what he wanted and that made it easy. When David picked him up from ski lessons another time, the ski instructor said, “your son doesn’t want to follow the group or me for that matter,” so David pulled him out of formal lessons and just had Harrison ski with him and his older brothers. Those boys were thrilled to teach their little brother how to find the best jumps and it was always a competition to go fast and see who had the highest air time. And even though his older brother received his second Dan is Tae know do at age 16, Harrison was happy with his black belt that he got when he was 12 and said, he was done with marital arts.
And when summer came, even though he had older siblings who were lifeguards and swim instructors, when I asked him if he wanted to finish his Red Cross program, (he only had one more level to complete) he said, “save the money, because I can swim well enough.” He was always questioning the value of things, both in time and in money.
When it came to music, after playing violin for six years he knew definitively that he wanted to study percussion, even though my heart was set on him continuing to play the strings with his older brothers. He would tap on everything he could get his hands on until we switched him over to drum lessons which he took most of high school. And he knew soccer and basketball would be the only sports for him, even though he tried volleyball one season and said, “nope, not his sport.” I think he would have really loved to have played Rugby too, but he was aware of the physical risks involved …thank heavens he listened to that brain injury rant of mine!
He always had a thing for athletic shoes!…wearing his big brother’s shoes!
And when it came time for him to decide which University to attend, it was no contest. He knew he wanted to take business and the University of Victoria, which is his older sister’s Alma mater, and where his older brother Mitchell currently attends, was the best choice for him. Even though, there is a perfectly great University just down the road from our home, he was going to go away to attend school.
Some of our best family memories were on Vancouver Island…why am I surprised that he wants to attend University there?
Harrison on his graduation day, June 2017
I’ve known for 18 years that this day would come. I’ve known all summer that it was almost upon my doorstep. Why is it always so hard to say goodbye when the time comes? This summer, as I would drive him to work, or on the return journey home, or when he and I were just hanging out in the family room, drinking some ice tea and chatting, I would tell him everything in my heart.
I asked Harrison to go and get a cabbage from the garden for coleslaw one night and he came up holding it like it was a basketball….had to take a picture of that ’cause this is another thing I will miss…watching him shine on the court
Things like;
How to live life fully, experiencing everything and being your best self, but being mindful of others along the path. To appreciate the gift of a post secondary education and to not squander the opportunity by wasting time and fooling around. Work first, play second. Be kind, be respectful, be polite. Respect and honour women and elders. Use everything you have to leave this world a better place and take care of our planet for the generations to come.
always with love…
I’ve been lecturing all summer and in hindsight, I wished I had been loving more, but I have always felt like I had to be the tough parent. You know the strict one. I play the bad cop often and my husband plays the good cop. That makes me mad sometimes, ’cause I want my kids to love me the best, but it’s okay in the end. As long as they grow to live up to their potential, and if that means that I’m the one who rants on and on and pushes them further, and my husband stands by as a quiet supporter, often moving us quickly from a hard subject with a witty retort or joke, well so be it. I hope when Harrison has some time away from the family and takes a moment to reflect on how he was parented, he knows, I always had his back and I was the one who wanted him long before he came to earth.
One thing I did this past summer, to keep our connection strong, was make sure he had a few treats. When I picked him up from his job at the Home Depot and then his landscaping job, I always had some frosty ice tea waiting in the car for him. On several occasions I made some yummy blueberry muffins (see a later post) and there was ALWAYS thick slices of zucchini bread for his lunch time snack. He recently informed me that he doesn’t really like cookies any longer but there is one that he still enjoys and before he left I made sure to make a big batch of……
my peanut butter flax seed cookies.
If there is one cookie Harrison enjoys…it’s one with peanut butter in it…the flax is a nice nutty touch
I know a lot of people are allergic to peanuts (so sorry!) but thankfully, none of our children have been and that is a good thing because we all love peanut butter in our house. I know our kids really love to be able to have peanut butter cookies and sandwiches all summer long since they can’t have them during the school year.
So if you are like us and love a really good peanut butter cookie, you will love this one and hey, it’s pretty healthy too, well relatively healthy anyway. And maybe if there is someone in your life that you have to say goodbye to, make some cookies, and as you are hugging them, slip them into their backpack with a note that says, “you are LOVED!”
Not a great picture as the sun was sprinkling it’s light, but this was Harrison and I saying goodbye at 8 am this morning
Instead of goodbye, I think I will just say, “see you soon, I love you!!!” David and Harrison off to University…kind of a tradition now for my husband to take our kids to school….while I stay home and cry while writing a blog post pouring it all out!
I hope you join me in the kitchen to make these soft, chewy cookies. and while we mix, we can listen to this song. Maybe you will cry with me as I sing “How to say goodbye,” by Michael W. Smith.
This song is dedicated to my sweet son Harrison.
Shine on!
If you have a child who is still at home, yes we have to provide a strong foundation for them to grow, and if you are like me, maybe a lecture or two along the way, but a plateful of cookies now and then is another way to remind them they are loved. Although we are moving more and more towards eating less sugar, I think my cookie jar will always be full as long as I have children at home
Love them while you have a chance to…’cause saying goodbye reminds me they are with us for only a blink of an eye.
If we have to say goodbye, let us unwrap this time, and see it for the gift it is; a lesson in living more fully and awake.
Hope’s Peanut butter Flax seed Cookies
Ingredients
1/2 cup of butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter…we use the organic peanut butter from Costco
11/4 cups all purpose flour….can use half whole wheat for a healthier cookie
1/2 cup ground flax seed
1 tsp baking soda
dash of salt
Directions
Preheat oven to 375 degrees
In a large bowl mix butter and sugar until creamy. Add the egg and vanilla.
Add peanut butter until well combined
In a separate bowl, add all the remaining ingredients.
Stir dry ingredients into the butter mixture and mix well.
Spoon tablespoon and roll into balls. USING A Fork (Harrison likes flattened cookies) flatten cookies using a criss cross pattern. I like to sprinkle a bit more flax on top of each cookie…a single whole peanut is a nice touch too.
Bake in oven for 10 minutes.
Makes 24 cookies…of course I double the above for our family….these cookies go fast!!!
Thank you for visiting today. Please come back soon. It’s been a funny summer for me but this fall I hope to spend more time talking about moving towards a simpler life…minimalist posts, more posts on raising children and more time out in the garden. Come back again…
And until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
“I would make cookies but they’d just get eaten.”~ Doreen Reynolds~ (my mother in law)
The cookie jar was empty.
I noticed this fact as I flew out of the kitchen, car keys in hand, while yelling to my 5 school bound kids, “hurry up, or you’re gonna be late for school.” A mad rush towards coats, hats and boots ensued and within a blink, everyone was safely buckled into their respective car seats. That is, except for my 18 year old son, Harrison.
Harrison has always done things on his own time with a laid back air. Although it’s true, he did arrive 2 weeks early. He was due on December 31st but made his debut on December 19th and was home in time for Christmas of 1998, never one to miss an event or fun.
Oh finally, there he was at the garage door, wearing his navy blue basketball hoodie, grey sweat pants, and favourite cobalt blue basketball socks. I watched as he casually dropped his black backpack and placed his hot beverage cup on the freezer. It was probably filled to the top with creamy and sugared coffee, which he had started to drink now that he was 7 months away from University. With graceful ease, my 6 foot 3 inch tall, son, slipped into a pair of grey Addidas sandals.
With incredulous eyes, I watched as he reached to picked up his backpack, coffee cup and shuffled slowly to the car, despite the fact we were running late. As he opened the passenger side of the front door and was about to put his coffee cup in the holder, with supreme authority I said, “If you think I’m driving you to school wearing sandals in January your crazy.”
“Oh moooooom,” he said, but he must have recognized the “I’m not kidding” look on my face and after putting his cup in the car holder and dropping his backpack on the front seat, he turned and shuffled back to his shoe cubby, with the same relaxed air, exchanging his sandals for a pair of low rise, red court sneakers. He came back to the van and with a sigh, grabbed his backpack off the front seat and plucked himself down, as only teenagers can do saying, “is this better?”
I gave him an exasperated look, backed the van out of the garage and then commenced a lecture I knew by heart. After all, this was the same child I’d taken to soccer practice, only to discover he had left his soccer cleats at home, or to his violin lesson, when his bow and music were still resting peacefully on his music stand in his bedroom. Countless times over the years, he had arrived home after school to inform me about a band concert in few hours and he just found out his black dress pants didn’t fit, or he had a project due the next day and needed crucial material from the craft store. He could have fed a third world family for a year, with all the nicely made lunches he had left in the fridge, after nonchalantly heading off to school.
Harrison practicing his violin this past Christmas holiday
“Harrison, the one thing I regret after all the activities your Dad and I have registered you in, is that we never put you in boy scouts. What is their motto again?” I didn’t wait for a reply. “BE PREPARED.” I said loudly. “What would happen if it started to snow later today or my car broke down and I couldn’t pick you up?” “You can’t walk home in sandals.”
“Oh mooooom” he said again. “I’m writing a 3 hour English exam today and I wanna be comfortable and besides, if you couldn’t pick me up, one of the guys would drive me home.” I glanced in the backseat at my newest high schooler, Grace, and asked, “Grace, do the guys wear sandals in the winter?” She laughed and said, “yeah they do.” Further annoyed, I said, “Well, if your friends all jumped off the cliff would you do it? Just because others are wearing inappropriate footwear, doesn’t mean you have to.”
Harrison sat stoically listening to my vent through the 7 long minutes it took to arrive at the high school and once I had pulled over, he jumped out so fast, I hardly had time to yell, “good luck on your exam.” Grace just gave me a smile and a shrug as she closed the sliding door. Before heading to the elementary school, I glanced in the rear view mirror at my 3 remaining children and saw they were all sitting peacefully and were unusually quiet. Taking a tip from their lead, I popped my meditative music CD into the player. Deva Premal started to chant, “Om Namah Shivaya,”which is a mantra prayer for, divine-love, grace, truth, and blissfulness.
Marinading in that place, I reflected on the recent interaction with my beautiful son. Why do I have to be such a tight fisted, control freak? It’s been over 50 years now since the deep scratch of grief and pain were etched in my soul record. I was 5 years old when I happily came home from jumping mud puddles with my best friend Freddy Green. My mom was sitting on the family couch, holding hands with our family physician, Dr. Gerd, totally distraught, crying like a wounded animal, saying “no, no, no!” My dad had been killed on the Hope- Princeton highway, while driving his company truck for Esso Oil. He left my mom alone to raise her four girls.
Since that day, I became a master planner and organizer. I had daily to do lists, 5 and 10 year plans and goals set out on paper. Unconsciously, I had adopted the belief that if every moment of my day was accounted for, nothing bad would ever happen to me or my family. And each time there was a new loss or unplanned disaster in my life, I doubled down to become even more controlled and regimented. Thankfully, as well as much grief in my life, abundant blessings have come too.
In my 20’s, I married a kind and loving man, David, and together we had brought 8 shining stars to earth. Each one a wise teacher. After all these years, why couldn’t I let my son follow his bliss this morning? I mean what is the worst thing that would have happened if he wore sandals to school?
Sheesh!
A few years ago, we had purchased a new, cherry red, LG washer and dryer set, which sang a jaunty tune when it’s final cycle was complete. Harrison, particularly enamored with our new cleaning set, started to say, “LG Mom,” when I would ask him how school had gone that day. That was his code word for, “Life’s good!”
Our LG set….”Life’s Good! mom!” says my son Harrison
Why did my heart not trust that sentiment. Why was I always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I pulled into the elementary school’s drop off zone and helped my 7 year old son, William, put his backpack over his bulky winter coat. As I tugged his multi coloured wool toque over his blonde curls, he looked up at me and asked, “Mom, can you get me into Boy Scouts?” Looking at his bright blue eyes, still sparkling with joy and innocence, I realized something had to shift and answered, “we’ll see.”
Giving one final wave to Will and my 5 year old twin daughters, I drove home, letting everything settle into my chest as I listened to the chant, “Om Shanti,.” coming out of my car speakers. At home, I threw the car keys back into the kitchen desk drawer and turned to see the cookie jar on the counter.
Still empty.
For my whole life, I have kept the proverbial cookie jar filled, always prepared for unexpected company. But this morning, I flicked my finger over the groove in the record, and sat on my kitchen window seat, open and empty, letting the day unfold as it would, while watching the changing grey-blue waters, of the lake below our house.
The lake is constantly changing but today it appears still and empty…..or is that just me?
It’s late evening now and I’m almost finished typing up my latest story at the kitchen table. I thought it was complete. The little ones are bathed and tucked away for the night, lunches are made, and Harrison walks into the kitchen. “Hey, mom, do you have a minute?” I looked up from my computer and peer over my reading glasses and say, “what’s up?” “Well…. it’s grad picture day tomorrow and I need a clean white dress shirt and dark tie.” he says casually as he opens the cookie jar lid.
Our beautiful son Harrison…a wise life teacher
If you would like to hear Deva’s beautiful voice, check out the Youtube video recording from her Dakshina CD.
Thanks for coming to visit today and reading some of my reflections. Raising children opens a window into another world.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
What does being a mom and brownies have in common? They are both SWEET!
Today is my first born daughter’s birthday. Her 25th Birthday to be exact. Happy Birthday Alyssa Rae!
25 Years ago I became a mom.
Alyssa Rae at 6 months….pull out the camera and she smiles
The road to motherhood started out rocky for me because after an almost perfect pregnancy, with only first trimester nausea to mar the experience, the weeks before our baby’s birth was full of uncertainty, which would shadow her first year on earth.
In week 34 of my pregnancy, I was having some cramping and didn’t feel well. My doctor sent me to the hospital where they did some fetal testing along with an ultrasound. In those days, (1990) having more than two ultrasounds performed during a pregnancy was unusual, so I was a bit concerned. That concern blew into anxiety when the ultrasound tech had a look of deep concentration on her face. Also, she took much longer than what I felt was a normal time frame to check on our baby’s growth and well being.
The next day my Dr’s office called and asked if I could come in. At that moment, what had been an idyllic pregnancy, turned into a nightmare. My Dr. told me that our baby had dilated ventricles in her brain but that was all she could say at that point. She didn’t want to speculate on the cause or how it may impact our child, until there was further testing done. She had arranged for us to see a fetal diagnostic specialist at Grace Hospital (Now called the B.C. Woman’s Hospital) in Vancouver.
We had the weekend to digest what this could mean. The first thing I did after talking to my Dr. was visit the library. Remember, this way in the day when you couldn’t just Google information. At the library, I discovered that babies born with dilated ventricles in the brain often had conditions like hydrocephalus.
“Hydrocephalus is one of the most common congenital anomalies affecting the nervous system, occurring with an incidence of 0.3 to 2.5 per 1,000 live births. Traditionally, hydrocephalus is detected and treated after birth with a shunting procedure. However, with the advent of high quality prenatal ultrasonography, ventricular enlargement is now routinely diagnosed in-utero. This knowledge has facilitated obstetric care but presents a source of uncertainty for families and a challenge for the team counselling parents regarding a prognosis for the fetus.”
I drove home crying. How had this happened to our baby? I was young and in perfect health and my pregnancy had been text book. I was also anxious that every moment we waited to see a specialist, meant irreparable damage to our baby’s brain could be occurring.
My husband and I clung to each other over the weekend and after I told my mom about having to go to Vancouver for testing, (which was a BIG deal in those days) I grew more concerned. She contacted her church and had our baby placed on their prayer list. To be put on a prayer list to me, meant things were really serious. You know when you are living a nightmare it’s almost surreal but other people’s reaction to your life often puts things into perspective.
This is a little angel in our house that reminds me of this time.
Our 8 hour car trip to Vancouver (before the connector was built) was uneventful and quiet although occasionally I would break the silence by asking David, “it’s going to be okay, right?” When we arrived at Grace hospital, we sat in the waiting room filled with other couples. Woman at varying stages of pregnancy sat everywhere. Suddenly, I realized that I wasn’t alone with my fears for the health of our baby. This was a Universal connection. It was the first time being pregnant I realized I was on the precipice of joining a selective group of women.
Moms!
The head of the neonatal testing and diagnostic department, Dr. D. F. Farquharson,, met with us and put us at ease right away. We knew we were in good hands as he carefully communicated what we were facing and what they would be looking for. I tried to relax and even thought, heck, he teaches at the University of B.C. so he probably sees situations like ours all the time. After an extensive ultrasound, he guided us to see other specialist. We met with a genetics counselor, we had blood drawn. Finally, late in the day we met with a Neurosurgeon who was amazing. I’ll never forget Dr. Cochrane asking us what level of education we had, presumably so he knew how to pitch the situation. Although, that may sound condescending, he wasn’t at all. The whole team wrapped us gently in care during our time at Grace Hospital.
At the end of the day, there was no conclusive diagnoses. Our baby was too large, at 34 weeks to be able to be seen clearly via ultrasound and to determine what was causing the dilated ventricles. They thought they had ruled out spina bifida however, since her spine appeared in tact. It was suggested that we do an amniocentesis to determine if our baby’s lungs were mature. If they were, it was advised to induce labour early and deliver her, at which time the team could diagnose properly and treat her condition. We agreed to the amnio, which was performed by our Dr. F with great compassion and ease. Although we were still scared, we had a team caring for us and there was comfort in that.
Since it was going to take a few days to get the results we drove back to the Okanagan to wait. The next week was excruciating. I spent many hours just praying for the health of our baby. It was decided that I would officially start my maternity leave from work. If I had continued to work, I wouldn’t have been able to focus anyway. Interestingly, for many years I had been working as an Insurance Agent, processing many types of unemployment insurance claims. A good percentage of them being, maternity UI claims. It felt strange to apply for my own claim several weeks earlier than I had planned.
Several days later, we got a call from Grace Hospital. Our baby’s lungs were mature. They wanted to induce on Monday. We also were asked if we wanted to know our baby’s gender and of course we said yes. We felt really privileged to know ahead of the birth. This was not the standard for the day. Apparently, one couple had been told a certain gender during an ultrasound and it turned out to be wrong. They sued the hospital. So at the time, the policy in our Province was to not divulge gender prior to birth.
As we packed for our trip, the thoughts that our baby was a “girl” suddenly made her more real. Although, we had thought for sure we were having a boy and had even painted the nursery mostly pale blue with fluffy clouds and sweet teddy bears, I had purchased a few tiny gender neutral sleepers and those were the ones I packed. On the trip to the coast, I flipped through a baby name book as David drove and we tried out every girl name in the book. We finally had settled on either Ashley or Alyssa.
I liked Alyssa. It was Greek which said, ancient to me and the meaning was perfect. In the book we were using, Alyssa, meant, “a woman who thinks and rationalizes for herself.” We liked the idea of a strong brain. Also, Alyssa sounded great with our last name, “Reynolds.” Something about the “s’s flowed. We chose Rae for her middle name after my step-dad, John (Bud) who had been a wonderful second father to me and sadly had died when I was 25. His middle name was Ray, but we were thinking of giving her the feminine version. Rae. Alyssa Rae Reynolds…A. R. Reynolds….the more we said it it sounded right.
Although, I haven’t been able to find the same meaning to her name anywhere else since then, this name was meant for our daughter. Here is something I just Googled and I had to laugh as it describes our Alyssa perfectly.
What Does Name “Alyssa” Mean
Powerful and complete. You are good intellectually and require several outlets for your energies. You are not a builder but a planner, and you want others to carry out your plans. You are bold, independent, inquisitive and interested in research. You know what you want and why you want it.You are seeking freedom, opportunities to enjoy life: to make love, to go places and to do things. You are very adventurous and willing to take risk to achieve your objectives. New ways and new experiences can’t satisfy your restless nature. One adventure leads you to another. You are honest and fair, because you know that this is the only way to receive justice and honesty from other people. But your personal growth is vital for your, and it is difficult to be tied down by rules and obligations. Your restless spirit might best controlled by choosing the field of work that meet your demand for action and adventure.
Yup, that’s our baby!
Okay, back to her birth. We arrived at Grace Hospital late on Sunday with touches of sun on our faces. The drive to the coast had been lovely. A perfect Spring day at the end of March. There was Hope in our hearts that day. As we settled into our room, everyone made us feel at peace. Hearing our story and then finding out who our Doctor was, EVERYONE reassured us, telling us we were in the best of hands. The Doctor who had been the head of prenatal diagnostics, Dr. Duncan Finlay Farquharson, had agreed to also deliver our baby. Little did we know but he was a beloved Doctor at Grace Hospital.
Early on Monday morning, we were taken down to the labour and delivery floor. I was so nervous. This was the week back home when we had planned to join our prenatal group, tour the hospital and practise breathing techniques for birth. And here I was, going to be induced. I didn’t know what to expect and I certainly didn’t know anything about labour breathing etc since this was our first baby. Everyone reassured us that there was nothing like the real show to learn the ropes of birthing.
As the induction progressed and it became more difficult for me, during one of Dr. F’s visit’s into the room, after examination, he took off his gloves and said to me, “you were made for having babies.” And with a smile he left. After that, I just trusted my body and I did what came naturally. Right around midnight on the 26th….about to become the 27th, things felt like they were moving fast. All of a sudden, in the dim light of the room a team appeared not just for me, but for our baby as well. After a long day in induced labour, things were progressing quickly.
My body took over and was suddenly powerful. Even though Alyssa was just our first baby, within 20 minutes of pushing, she was out in the world. She was lifted up, the cord was cut, she was wrapped in a warm blanket and as she was lifted over to the warm isolette, the pediatrician said something I will never forget, “she’s a keeper!” And in that moment, David, squeezed my hand and I knew somehow our baby would be okay.
Everyone in the room said I had done fantastic for a first time mom and our baby was BEAUTIFUL!
We were glowing as Alyssa was finally given to David for his first close look and cuddle, and then passed to me. As I looked into her wise eyes, centuries passed. As I marvelled at her tiny fingers, I thought “piano fingers.” She looked like a perfectly formed doll. I don’t know what I expected but her head was tiny, in lovely proportion for her, 6 lb 3 oz—18 inch long body. She looked like a “normal” baby.
After our first nursing session, which went surprisingly well considering she was a month premature, I was transferred to a wheel chair and clutching our precious baby, we were moved out of the dim room and into the bright hallway, Alyssa lifted her little arm from the blanket to shield her eyes from the bright hall. David and I looked at each other and smiled. She was already thinking.
Over the course of the next day she was tested and monitored and finally, we were told why her ventricles were dilated. It was because her corpus callosum was missing causing the ventricles to have more fluid. We met again with Dr. Cochrane, the Neurosurgeon. Again he was great but sadly, since there were no continuous studies being done on children with Alyssa’s condition, he said he couldn’t offer much in the way of future expectations. He told us that she was in perfect health and meeting all newborn criteria for normal behavior. He did want to see her again when she was one year old.
We didn’t know what to think, until we talked to Dr. Farquharson, who reaffirmed what Dr. Cochrane said, our baby was healthy. One of the last things he said to us before discharge, 4 days later was, “take your baby home, enjoy her, treat her normally.”
As we were packing up, one of the nurses came in to make sure we were okay and we expressed our thanks and told her what an amazing experience we had had during our stay at Grace Hospital. She went on to tell us we couldn’t have had a better Doctor in Dr Farquharson. Sadly, he and his wife had lost a baby son to SIDS only a few months prior. I have often thought of him and his baby son. I was determined to be the best mother I could be for our daughter.
So we took her home. We loved her. We enjoyed her. But we didn’t treat her normally. Something profound had changed us and we knew there was no going back. We felt lucky to have a healthy child but we also knew that since there was a brain abnormality present, we had to do everything we could to stimulate her brain, make neuron connections and help her thrive.
And so started the journey of stimulating our little daughter’s brain as much as we were able. Of course, I chose to breast feed which offered our child the perfect formula for her growing brain and body. And then, I took the training I had as a fitness instructor and set up “stations” around our home.
In the early days of her life, she would move from a station on the floor with a tripod of bright coloured hanging toys over head, to a blanket for her “tummy time,” so she could look at all the books that I had set up around her. She would lift up her little head to see all the pictures and then fall down with exhaustion. I would move her to the next station.
Then she had another station sitting in a reclining chair with a tray with a few toys and I would play all sorts of classical and baroque music. We also got into the habit of bathing her in the morning and the evening as she seemed to love water and even though babies don’t get overly dirty, the idea of water as being a therapy made sense.
We would do physical therapy as I would sing to her, telling her what a smart and beautiful baby she was. I would pump her little legs, singing to row, row, row, your boat, and cross her little arms too. She seemed to enjoy moving her body. I think her favourite station was just being on the floor with our Siamese cat, Ninja, laying close by. She loved to reach for his whiskers and he was always gentle with her.
Each day, I would pack her up in a Snugli (a baby carrier) and we would go for long walks in the neighbourhood. She would be awake looking at the sky and the trees but within minutes, her eyes would get heavy and she would fall asleep to the swaying of my steps with her head against my chest.
As she got older, (6 months) we enrolled her in aquatic classes and as a toddler, I put her in classes at our local recreation center where she would crawl under and over things, play on mats with other children and of course we would sing songs in a circle group setting.
At her one year check up with Dr. Cochrane, at the Children’s Hospital in Vancouver, he felt she was doing great. Although she wasn’t walking she was in the range of normal development. I was very concerned about her not walking but now that I look back, she only weighed 18 pounds at a year and also her temperment was such, that she wasn’t going to do anything, until she could do it perfectly. I had no idea that this was going to be her personality.
Alyssa at 1 year of age
Over the years we saw that time and time again.
We continued to expose her to music and swimming. In addition, she took art classes in the summer, was involved in Science camps and also played a bit of soccer. She loved to visit the library and plowed through endless stacks of books. When she wasn’t reading, or drawing, she was sitting at our dining room table putting large puzzels together. Something she and my mom loved to do together.
Three generations, Me, Alyssa’s grandma, “Umma” and Alyse as a toddler
Playing piano and swimming are both right and left brain activities and they very well may have helped to rewire her brain so it was functioning at a high level. I’ll never forget in her first year of ballet when she was just 5, she wanted to quit because she couldn’t skip. I told her that if she knew how to skip or do any ballet poses, she wouldn’t need to go to classes. Further, that the purpose of taking lessons was to learn these things. Almost by the next class she started skipping and also learned to persevere when things weren’t always easy.
When she was only 8, we took her to see Riverdance in Vancouver and she was mesmerized by the soft dancers with their high kicks and the clicking heels making music. As soon as we heard of an Irish Dance teacher coming to our community, we signed Alyssa up for lessons. For about 8 years, she enjoyed dancing to lyrical Irish tunes and with her bouncing ringlets competed in many Feis. (Irish Dance competitions)
By the time Alyssa was in Grade 12, she was an excellent student, an accomplished pianist, completing her grade 10 Royal Conservatory requirements in just one year, played flute in the school band and had played in the Youth Symphony, was an Irish dancer, she had become a lifeguard and later would become a swimming instructor. She was passionate about literature and history. One of the earliest pictures we have of her is surrounded by books while listening to classical music. These were all the strong foundations in her life.
June 14, 2008….High School Grad
And now, here she is 25 years old. She has achieved her Bachelor of Arts, majoring in English, minoring in Greek and Roman studies and last year she completed her Bachelor of Education degree. She has taught piano, swimming and now is over in the U.K. teaching teenagers, “English,” of all things. Her love is creative writing and I’m sure, with a bit of time, a novel is only a breath away and when it comes it it will be as unique as she is and hopefully well received. After all, she has an interesting way of detaching herself from life and observing it through a magical lens. She lives an authentic life and follows her heart.
Alyssa finally living her dream…traveling to historic places…adventuring
What is that saying about the teacher appearing when the student is ready? Well, whether I was ready or not, she arrived exactly when she was meant. She has taught me that life isn’t always easy, we don’t always get a fair shake but it’s what we make of it that really matters. Life is endlessly interesting.
The other night, David and I were watching the biography of Glenn Gould, who was an extremely talented pianist born in 1932. He became quite famous for his unique style of playing. During his early years he was told to sing while playing his pieces. Also, one of his instructors taught him to hit the piano keys in a way that allowed his brain to process them individually. His playing was clear and precise. Another thing that was rather quirky was that he carried a rather low set chair, which he insisted on using at all concerts, although it looked awkward.
How was his brain wired?
What created this genius?
Whose to say what is normal?
Our daughter, has exceeded all of our expectations for her. She has talents and abilities that take people a lifetime to achieve. Also, many people spend their lifetime trying to fit in and please others but she has learned that to be truly successful in life means, being true to yourself. She is showing me what an authentic life looks like. She does classify herself as an introvert (like Glenn Gould) and is quick to point out, it’s a good thing.
After all, it’s the introverts that create magic, music and great literature.
She’s a KEEPER!
I’m glad we didn’t take her home and treat her normally.
She was……..IS
limitless.
She is a unique, talented, beautiful, gifted, brilliant young woman. We are so glad you chose us to be your parents Alyssa. Thank you……….and
Happy Birthday!
If you are interested in reading more about people with missing corpus callosums check out this hyperlink. It’s fascinating!
And what is a birthday without a dessert?
I know if Alyssa were here, I would be making her a carrot cake.
But since I have already blogged about my carrot cake recipe, I will share her second choice for dessert and that is, our Ultimate Brownie recipe.
We use chunks of dark chocolate with almonds in this recipe and it’s decadent.
Here’s my Ultimate Brownie Recipe…dedicated to my Ultimate daughter
Ingredients
3 ounces of unsweetened chocolate
1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2/3 cup of all purpose flour
1/4 tsp baking soda
1 cup dark chocolate pieces
1/2 cup chopped nuts (opt)
1 recipe of mocha chocolate drizzle
Mocha Chocolate Drizzle;
In small bowl, stir together, 1/2 cup of sifted powder sugar, 1 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder, 1/4 tsp vanilla, 1 1/2 hot tsp milk, and spoonful of instant coffee. Stir in additional milk until icing is drizzling consistency.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Coarsely chop unsweetened chocolate.
In saucepan melt butter and chocolate over low heat, stirring occasionally.
Remove from heat, cool.
Line 8x8x2 inch baking pan with foil.
Spray with non-stick cooking spray; set aside.
Stir sugar into melted chocolate mixture until sugar dissolved.
Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating with wooden spoon until just combined.
Stir in vanilla.
In bowl stir together flour and baking soda.
Add flour mixture (flour/soda) to chocolate mixture; stir just until combined. Stir in dark chocolate pieces and nuts. Spread batter in prepared pan.
Bake 35 minutes or until edges are set and begin to pull away from sides of pan. cool on wire rack. Spoon chocolate drizzle across top.
Serve alone, or with whipped cream….or with ice cream.
We have been known to make a ice cream Sunday with this brownie as the bottom….yum!
LET YOUR IMAGINATION BE YOUR GUIDE.
Before I close I wanted to share a Youtube video of Glenn Gould playing the Italian Concerto.
Now when I think of my daughter Alyssa, many different music pieces come to mind. A lot of Debussy and Mozart, which I used to play for her as she was drifting off to sleep as a baby and a child.
Then there is her Irish music that she used to dance to, and finally there is the Soundtrack to the Lord of the Rings, …in particular, “In Dreams” which she and her brother Clark used to play together.
To end this post though, I thought I would include the Bach’s Italian Concerto which she played as one of her pieces during her ARCT (Royal Conservatory Exam)
As I would work in the kitchen, listening to her perfecting this piece for hours at a time, I would think, it just doesn’t get any better than this. I hope you enjoy this recording of Glen Gould playing it.
If you can’t see the above, check out this hyperlink, (Glenn Gould, playing Bach’s Italian Concerto)and while you are making the Ultimate Brownie recipe let brilliance wash over you.
You are brilliant!
If you want to read some of Alyssa’s writing and her photography, check out her blog, “The Introvert in the Corner.” The link is also in my fav blog list…of course!
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful
“Not all those who wander are lost.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
As you may or may not know, I’m a HUGE Lord of the Ring fan. Well, maybe not as massive a fan as my daughter Alyssa, who could probably teach a University level course on Tolkien’s writing and Middle Earth history. She has been known to speak Elvish and when she performed her Irish Dance steps as a child/teen, I could almost see the Elves and Hobbits dancing beside her as her curls bounced to the lilting Celtic music.
When she and her brother Clark, (she on piano and Clark on violin) used to play one of the songs from the movie, “In Dreams,” I used to weep in sadness that we did not live in such a world or a time as is portrayed in Tolkien’s literature. It was a time and place of innocence and magic. I’d like to think I did play a bit part in creating her passion for this literature, since I introduced her to Tolkien when she was around 11 or 12. My mom and I also kept her belief in faeries/elves and the like alive by surrounding her with faerie stories and music.
(If you are unable to see the video below, click on this hyperlink which will take you to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, “In Dreams.”….for inspiration to journey starts there)
I think of our dear daughter now, over in the U.K. teaching English to the English and I have to smile for she is finally living in a country steeped in history. A country where Tolkien was inspired to write his Middle Earth tales, she is starting her epic journey.
Teaching isn’t the easiest thing to do when one is more comfortable behind the piano, behind a book, behind the camera, sitting in the corner observing.
She pushes her comfort zone each day as she faces things that are hard and difficult. It may be modern times but courage and determination are needed. I think if Gandalf were really alive and well he would say, “Well done, Alyssa! Stay with the quest.”
And when I look at another of our children, Mitchell, who was just home from University for part of his February reading week, my heart goes out to him as he often struggles trying to find his authentic self and the path that he must walk. I try to share mother wisdom with him but all the wisdom in my heart will not help him on his journey. Only he knows the way and it’s my job to trust and let go that he will listen well to his heart and follow where it bids him to travel. I have lived long enough to know that it will turn out right.
In my own life, when my friends and family questioned many of my life choices; to leave a comfortable career, to have more children later in life than society deems prudent; to leave the city and move out to the country, I had to shut out those voices and go inward. I had to find my own path and keep following the signs along the way, encouraging me to stay true to myself. My life is now rich with what I love to do, care for my family, write, garden, and while many would not think this is a worthy life purpose, I know it is the way that I will grow as a soul.
What about you? Do you question your life’s path? It’s really simple to follow the road signs if you recognize the symbols along the way although they aren’t always easy to discern. I remember trying to decide about a certain life choice years ago. The two doors were open wide but I just couldn’t decide which one to walk through. I was praying for guidance daily. Minute to minute uttering the words, “help me with the direction to take,” as my mantra.
Then one day as I was driving our children to their after school activities and of course we were in a hurry as usual, hoping that we wouldn’t be late but of course we got behind a slow moving vehicle. I had to step on the brakes, take a deep breath and when I did, I realized the car in front of me had a bumper sticker in the rear that read, “Trust Comes First.”
As soon as I read those words, I got shivers as if my guardian angel were sitting right beside me whispering the message directly into my ear. I knew what I had to do in that second. I let go of any fear that I had been holding onto and knew which door to walk through. I wanted to follow that car and when the driver finally stopped to say, “Thank you, as you have no idea how much your bumper sticker helped me today.” Do you ever wonder why certain people or things are put on your path at a precise time? There are no coincidences in life. Everything happens for a reason but we aren’t often listening or watching for guidance.
And so, while I continue on my hero’s journey, a part of that is trusting that goodness will always prevail. That my children will be okay and that the messages that Tolkien wrote about in the Lord of the Rings and his other books have reached them. Every Christmas we have a tradition now of watching the movies together, often we are quoting the lines at the same time, they are entrenched in our memory.
(If unable to see the above, check this hyperlink to the Youtube video of Gandalf …”All you need to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
While there are many lines from the book/movie that are profound, the above has to be my favourite, as it helps me to remember to live fully and never let fear take over.
And before I leave today, I wanted to share my Carrot Cake recipe with you, my dear readers because, well, at the end of a journey, one needs to find nourishment and comfort. Also, carrot cake happens to be one of my daughter Alyssa’s favourite desserts. This recipe was given to me by my sister C, years ago and I have made hundreds of carrot cakes since then. Do we ever really realize how the smallest things we contribute and share can change the world? This simple, easy recipe has created moments for our family to stop on our path, celebrate life, restore ourselves and have the energy to carry on….like lembas bread.
Thank you C for this recipe. I hope it becomes a family fav for you too.
Hope’s Carrot Cake
Ingredients
2 cups flour (1 cup white, 1 cup whole wheat flour) 2 cups sugar (1 cup white, 1 cup brown sugar) 2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp salt 1 cup rapeseed oil or any light oil of your choice 2 tsp cinnamon 1 tsp all-spice 4 eggs 3 cups finely grated carrots (I don’t use my food processor…I like grating by hand for this recipe) Directions 1. Sift dry ingredients 2. Add oil to dry and stir really well…this is a thick mixture 3. Add eggs, one at a time until well combined 4. Add carrots and ensure blended well
5. Pour mixture into a lightly greased pan of your choice. (I use a bundt pan or a 9×13 pan) Bake for 350 degrees for 45 to 50 minutes…if using a glass pan….bake at 325 degrees Cream Cheese frosting 1- 4 ounce package or 1/2 of the large 8 ounce package 3 tsp milk 11/2 tsp sugar 8 tbsp of icing sugar 1/4 tsp salt 1/2 tsp vanilla Blend cheese and milk then slowly add the additional ingredients until smooth
Adjust the amounts depending on whether you want a glaze or a thick icing on your cake
When the cake is cooled, ice with the above and sprinkle walnuts on top….Journey’s End
I’m serving the cake on my mother’s “Forget Me Not” china tea set….we all make such a difference in each other’s lives
My beautiful son Mitchell, home for reading week…now back on his path
My darling daughter Alyssa, on her Hero’s journey….this pic from.her day trip to Windsor Castle, Bath and Stonehenge
The next time you are wondering about your life purpose or whether you are on the right path,, all you have to do is trust that everything will become clear in time, let go…and ENJOY.
Oh the blessing of free will. Some may call it a curse. Some may call it a gift. Last week, I made a number of excellent choices and then some that, in hindsight, I wished I had not made. But then even as I write these words I know, even our worst choices bring insights and so it’s all good.
As you probably recall from reading my last blog post called, “When Things Fall Apart,” a number of things were breaking down in our household. Things did not improve as the week unfolded, despite my new mantra expecting only Marvelous things to occur.
On Thursday morning, again the house was very chilly when we awoke and when I went to turn on our gas powered furnace, I didn’t hear that warm hum. I cycled power and it worked for a bit and then stopped. Big problem. Direction? To call our furnace repair guy. Result. He’s coming later in the afternoon.
Of course, he came exactly when I was due to pick up our University son from the bus and right after that I was due to take Grace to her piano lesson. Thankfully, D had agreed to come home, (his office is about a 5 minute drive away) which is a good thing since I don’t understand the language of the skilled trades person. After they come to look at whatever it is that is not working, they try to explain what is wrong and how they plan to fix it and frankly, I’m always surprised that they don’t notice my perplexed facial expression because they continue to talk, as if we are on the same page. Thank you D for coming to my rescue.
In the meantime, I was ready to bundle up the little girls into the van to go and collect Clark, but when I looked out at our drive-way, I see the repair man’s truck is squarely in the path of my van. I decided to wait until D arrived home so I could leave the little ones with him and steal his little economical red Honda Fit. His treasured car I might add, which is really funny when I think of how times have changed. When I met him he had just sold his red Corvette and bought a Camaro. Again, it’s interesting the roads we choose to travel as well as how we choose to travel them.
Anyway, I zoomed up the hill, picked up Clark, who had been waiting for awhile, and arrived home just as the school bus was dropping Grace and Will off. Since it was a cold day, the first thing I noticed when I saw Will come into our yard was, that his head was bare. As he was coming into the house I asked, “Where is your new hat Will?” He sloughed off his new coat, {remember the one in which I had to replace the zipper recently? And, further to that, the one that I’d bought because I had fallen in LOVE with the HAT which happened to go beautifully with the jacket) and said, “M, took it off.” “What?” I said. He replied, “M took it while I was on the bus.”
Although I knew I had to be out the door shortly to take Grace to piano, I tried to clarify where his hat was since I KNOW from experience, the longer something goes missing, the chance of getting it back are slim. Amber Alert starts to flash in my mind. As it turned out, based on both Grace and Will’s statements, Will had his new hat when he got on the bus and while he was looking out the window, ” M”, who was sitting beside him, took it off. Will asked for his hat back but she was looking away, when he asked again, she didn’t respond. She got off the bus before him and he didn’t get his hat back.
Well, even though I was conscious, EXTREMELY, consciously aware of my feelings, anger, starting to bubble up from an unknown source, anger and frustration that another child should remove our son’s hat, I still made the “choice” to continue down this path. In fact, I became even more livid as I tried to find M’s phone number but there are like 50 people with her last name in our phone book. And remember, this is a small town! I tried calling a few who live in our area but each time it was the wrong number. Glancing at my watch, it was time to take Grace to her piano lesson. I grabbed an apple, an orange, some crackers and cheese and threw them on a plate for the children’s after school snack, Grace snatched a bit of everything and we were out the door.
Thank heavens, our older son was home to keep an eye on the little ones. On the way out of our sub-division we stopped off at the cul-de-sac, where Grace thought the M girl lived on. She had seen her get off the bus with her younger sister and she was pretty sure she knew which house they lived in. M is Grace’s age. Actually, in the same grade but in a different class and so she is familiar with her. We stopped at the house where she thought she lived and I rang the bell. No answer. We continued to piano.
Although I like to stay for her 3/4 hour lesson, that day I had to run and pick up Harrison after his jazz band practice. On my way back to our area, I decided to stop once again at M’s house. This time a teenage boy answers and said, “No, she didn’t live there, but there are two girls next door.” Quickly, keeping an eye on the time, I ran next door and rang the bell. A young, Filipino woman came to the door. I explained nicely to her that our kindergarten son was sitting beside M on the bus earlier and he said, she had taken his hat. I wanted to know if she knew anything about it.
The woman looked shocked and while she was apologetically saying, “oh my, I’m sorry, what does it look like?” as she was rummaging around a backpack at the door, I told her that it was black with a red stripe and cool brim. She shook her head no and said it wasn’t in M’s back pack. She further said, M was at her dance class but she would talk to her when she picked her up. I assumed she was the nanny, as she referenced her employer a few times. Before I left, I mentioned that I was surprised M was sitting with Will at all, since I understood the older children were suppose to sit at the back of the bus. My older daughter doesn’t even sit with him. She just looked at me blankly, like she didn’t know what the rules were, so I gave her my phone number and said, “thanks.”
I was still pretty annoyed at this point. I was thinking back to a time when my oldest son got off the bus without his rather expensive ski gloves we had purchased for him. He always had cold hands so we made sure to get a really warm pair this particular winter. He said one of the kids grabbed them and threw them to the back of the bus and for awhile all the kids were throwing them around. This was a Friday and our family was going skiing that weekend. We never got those gloves back.
Ever since our children were small, we have taught them to take care of their things, to appreciate what they have and to understand it takes effort to provide nice things for them. While some may feel that this is putting too much emphasize on stuff, I believe it teaches them to respect belongings. Theirs and other people’s. While I understand we all choose different parenting philosophies, at the very least, respecting other people’s space and their, “things.” is in my opinion, a really important lesson in life.
I got to the high school and Harrison didn’t come out. I shut off the car engine, text him but he didn’t respond. I raced into the school, knowing Grace’s piano lesson was going to end soon, and stopped outside of the band room. Teens were flying out and thankfully, one asked who I was looking for and I told him. He replied that Harrison wasn’t there that day. The band teacher, Mr. M. must have seen me at the door, as he came over and said Harrison hadn’t shown up after school. Was there a Dr.’s appointment or something? I just shook my head, smiled and decided to check out the gym. I continued down the hall and who do I see shooting hoops with a few other boys? Harrison.
When he saw me, he quickly collected his belongings and came out rather sheepishly. I asked him why he wasn’t at his jazz band practice and he mumbled something about, not wanting to go.. He perked up and said, “oh Mom, I’m number one on the list posted for the basketball team.” I nodded my acknowledgement, but I didn’t let the first part slide. As we walked down the hall, I asked him why he didn’t go to band and he said he wanted to play basketball instead after school. By this time we were outside the band room, so I told him that he better go and apologize to his band teacher.
As it turned out Harrison was not in Mr. M’s good books anyway. At the band concert, the night before, he had apparently been talking and laughed briefly, during the 5 minute Bach flute solo. Mr. M had had words with him and the other boy involved after the concert. In addition, he was annoyed when he told the jazz band to make some “noise,” while warming up and Harrison had done just that, TOO much, in Mr. M’s estimation. Harrison later told me it was a GREAT fill! (Harrison plays the drums by the way) D and I were at the back of the concert room so we never heard anything but we were not looking for poor behavior. He played really well as far as we were concerned (you can always hear your child when they play drums) but he had clearly made some bad choices during the concert for sure.
Harrison right before his band concert last Wednesday night
He apologized to Mr. M over his prior night’s behavior and not attending his band practice and we were back in the van to pick up Grace, with me talking, Harrison would say, lecturing, about the choices we make in life and the results we desire. Ownership and being respectful, being the theme. We arrived 5 minutes late to pick up Grace, who was getting cold as it was getting dark by this point. The rest of the night went off without a hitch, dinner, clean up, bath, stories, bed. It was when I was making children’s lunches for the next day that I received a phone call.
It was M’s mom calling about my query over Will’s hat. She was absolutely spitting mad and told me that under no circumstances should I have come to her door, upsetting her nanny, and accusing her daughter of taking Will’s hat. She further went on to say that her child was kind hearted and would NEVER take someone’s hat. I tried to explain that this was blown WAY out of proportion but she had made up her mind as to my intentions. I told her that I was simply wanting to get his hat back and I started on the trail of the missing hat based on where Will thought it was. She basically said, I shouldn’t listen to something a kindergarten aged child said and I should look around our house for the lost hat which will most likely turn up.
Near the end of our conversation, she threw this out, “It is JUST a HAT.” As if I were being ridiculous and out of line. I explained that we do have 8 children to cloth and it isn’t just a hat to us but the principal of teaching our children to be responsible with their things. She then, quite condescendingly said, “we probably can find a few hats lying around here if you really need one.” At that point, I knew we weren’t getting anywhere. I apologized if her nanny was upset by my appearance and before we said goodbye, I mentioned that I had called the school, left a message with the principal as I wanted to discuss bus seating policy and the incident.
I didn’t sleep that night. I kept thinking about the choices I had made with regards to the actions of the missing hat. Was it just a hat or was it the principal of other people being disrespectful towards our belongings? Also, on my mind was my beautiful teenage son, who was making his own choices. Sometimes not the best ones. I went to sleep finally, thinking about hats, drum sticks, and conversations all playing out in my mind.
Things always look better in the morning. The house was warm as the furnace had been repaired. The little girls had a lovely morning at preschool and when we arrived home at lunch time, I received a phone call from D. He said that the principal, Mr. S. had apparently tried to contact me but I was having tea with an old friend and I hadn’t been checking my messages. D said that Mr. S had taken the steps of having all the people involved in the hat fiasco, into his office. As it turns out, a girl by the name of, get this, HOPE, had taken Will’s hat off his head. She had been sitting behind him on the bus and when she got up to get off at her stop, she had dropped it behind his back. She thought he would have noticed but he didn’t. Apparently, this time Hope was the culprit but she told Mr. S that other children had been doing it as well, namely, M and her younger sister, D. M admitted that yes, she had done it before. It was unclear whether M was aware this time that Hope had taken Will’s hat although she had been the one to say Hope should also be included in the meeting. The Principal told them both that he had zero tolerance for hat removal, or any touching of other people’s belongings whatsoever. They were being warned that if he hears about this again, they will be off the bus.
Was I feeling vindicated? Well, sort of. But then, crazy me, I try to think about it from the other person’s perspective and I see that I could have handled it differently. First I could have stayed in my Zen place. I could have let the incident go totally and just bought Will a new hat. Although, saying that, I have to qualify that by saying, this hat was PERFECT. Also, as you know, I’m careful with our money and gee, did I really have to buy a new hat when we had a perfectly good hat “somewhere.” So yeah, I was unresolved even after all of this was hashed out. The right choice is not always clear and we never know what the outcome will be when we go down a certain path.
Mr. S, the Principal, did track down Will’s hat. It was left on the bus and he has given instructions for the bus people to return it to Will today. The bus should be dropping the kids off shortly and it will all be resolved. Until the next time that is.
I know this is just one incident in my life, one week of choices, but the real point here is, when we have the will power to choose which direction we are going to take, in every aspect of our life, the choices we make always impact more than ourselves and no matter which way we go, if we are open to it, we learn our biggest lessons in life and we teach as well. Yes, I could have taken the higher road and let the hat go. We would have ALL lived in peace and harmony, EXCEPT, until the next time one of the kids on the bus (or in life) thinks nothing of messing around with other people’s things. Isn’t it part of our job as a community to teach identify moral lessons? It’s part of living in a peaceful society.
Also, another big lesson I want my children to learn is that stuff isn’t important. I know, I know, this is a contradiction of what I have been talking about but the a particular piece in the scripture has always stayed with me from my childhood Sunday school lessons and that is, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6) This bible verse has always resonated with me and I’d like to believe I’m not materialistic.
Everything we have been given of material goods, is to bring us joy on the earth, make life easier and being grateful for those things is an important lesson too. I hope our children learn a few lessons from this whole experience, all of our children, Will, Grace, Harrison, etc…that respect is an important part of living on this earth, and choosing to be kind. Always kind. When we take that path, we are never wrong.
Well, I must close but before I do, I want to give you the recipe for my ginger snap cookies which I think are the perfect choice to go with late fall/early winter weather. I have a full cookie jar with these cookies right now thanks to my dear, DEAREST, son Harrison. While D and I were out doing our Christmas shopping for his oldest sister Alyssa yesterday, (who will NOT be home this Christmas and we want to send her a package soon) he had made a huge batch of these for the family. (Alyssa would love these too…they are her fav) I came home to a hot cup of tea and a plate of cookies. I showed him how to sprinkle an icing sugar star on top. They were so delicious that I thought I would add them to this blog post today. Thank you Harrison. I respect your excellent baking skills.
I hope you enjoy them too, if you want to make them more festive, simply make a stencil of a star or whatever…maybe I should have put a hat on our cookies. Whatever choices you make on this earth, I hope the lessons that result are gentle,
and your cookie jar is ALWAYS full!
Harrison’s Ginger Snaps
1 cup sugar 3/4 cup of margarine or butter, softened 1/4 cup molasses 1 egg 21/4 cups all purpose flour (Harrison used whole wheat yesterday and it was great) 2 tsp baking soda 1 tsp cinnamon 1/2 tsp salt 1/2 tsp ginger 1/2 tsp cloves 1/4 tsp nutmeg 1/4 cup sugar In a large bowl, beat 1 cup sugar, margarine, molasses and egg until light and fluffy. Stir in remaining ingredients except 1/4 cup sugar, mix well. Cover with plastic wrap; refrigerate 1 hour for easier handling. (You don’t have to do this last step…Harrison didn’t yesterday and they were great) Heat oven to 350 degree F. Shape dough into 1 inch balls; roll in 1/4 cup sugar. Space 2 inches apart on un-greased cookie sheets. Bake at 350 degree F. For 8 to 12 minutes or until set. (Cookies will puff up and then flatten during baking.) Cool 1 minute; remove from cookie sheets. Cool completely. Yields 3-4 dozen
We double the recipe for our large family so they last the week.
Will just came home and look what is on his head!
Looking at the above picture, it reminds me me of a story Dr. Wayne Dyer tells, of a woman who was walking on the beach with her small son. Suddenly, a huge wave washes upon the shore and pulls her son into the ocean. She gets down on her hands and knees and cries, “Oh God, please, please, bring my son back to me!” On the next wave her son reappears, none the worse for wear. She looks him over from top to bottom and says, “but he was wearing a HAT”
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Today was pajama day at the twins preschool. They have been talking about it since last week when their teachers gave them a sneak preview of the upcoming event. I kind of wish they hadn’t done that, since every night since then, before they went to bed, they asked with hopeful smiles, “is it pajama day tomorrow?” Each night, I would have to say, “not quite yet” and then after depressing groans, we would count down the days until the big P day.
We discussed which stuffed animal they would bring and every day their selections changed. After their preschool class on Wednesday, when they made little bear hats for the BIG day, I decided to set out their new pajamas and we made one final choice of teddy and set them on their dresser.
D went out of town on Wednesday morning and was going to be away for the rest of the work week, so I knew anything I could organize for all the children’s various activities would be helpful in running a smooth ship. Of course, every time D goes away, something ALWAYS happens. It’s Murphy’s law. This trip, my LG dryer stopped working around the time he was packing for his trip which I thought was really interesting. Then today it started to snow…but thankfully only a few flakes drifted down. I do NOT have snow tires on yet. As I said, it’s always something.
Any planning and organizing I can do ahead of time is a lifesaver. As tired as I may be at times, getting things ready the night before, always makes things flow better in the morning. When I tucked the little girls into bed last night, (Thursday night) they knew the next morning was pajama day and they were so “becited” as Victoria likes to say.
Good night little girls….
Sweet Dreams!
The final teddies have been selected…notice the Beatrix Potter books…they love these…and to the right, the angels holding three babies up in the air…the inscription under their feet is, “I knew you before you were born”
“I’m so BECITED!” said Victoria
When you wake up in the morning it will be the big P day.
Kate kicking back but looking forward to waking up on Friday
I didn’t sleep really well last night. I kept waking up and looking at the clock. 2 am, 3 am, 4 am. I was so worried that the alarm I set, was not going to go off. Then finally I got 2 hours of solid sleep because the next time I squinted at the digital clock beside our bed, it was 6 am. I just laid, feeling exhausted. Wondering how I was going to get through our busy day.
I had to get up soon in order to drive Harrison to his High School Jazz band meeting and then get Will and Grace up and off to school. Then get the little girls out of their jammies, bathed and dressed into their “new snowflake” pajamas for their special party day.
Thank heavens, our University son was staying home to work on a large project due next week. That was one kid I didn’t have to drive around. If I could just get through the morning, all I had to do later in the day was pick up Harrison from school at 4 pm (he likes to go into the weight room after school) and then take Grace to a swimming assessment, as she has been wanting to join our local swim club. After dinner I knew D would return home and I could exhale. Also, remember, my dryer has been broken most of the week and for someone who does at least 2 loads of wash a day (minimum) it has been another challenge to deal with…washing the least bit of clothes and hanging them to dry.
I thought I was doing really well. I even had time to take a few pictures of the girls after they were ready in their new pajamas with their teddies in their arms.
For some reason this picture didn’t turn out well….were they moving or was their too much light?..but you get to see them in their new pajamas….which for some reason was really thrilling for them. Oh no, fashion divas!
I finally got them all bundled up in their warm coats, hats and gloves because it was really COLD here this morning and hoisted them up into their car seats. Both were complaining that it was tight. Note to self, get D to adjust the car seat straps because I can’t figure out how to adjust them….do they need booster seats ALREADY?…seems like just yesterday we bought these Britax seats.
Here’s a snap I took of the girls the other day all bundled up…but of course Victoria likes to take off her gloves…I need to put a string on those gloves as sure as shooting we are going to lose them
Seems like just yesterday they came home from the hospital in their infant car seats.
We jammed to Van Morrison all the way to preschool. As I looked into the rear view mirror and saw them rocking side to side in time to the beat, with big smiles on their faces, I experienced a flash of deja vu. Before they were born and I mean BEFORE, they were even conceived. While we were just trying to conceive, I used to look into the rear view mirror of my van and dream about little ones in the back seat. I never dreamed I would have TWIN daughters, well okay, maybe for a second, but I don’t think I could imagine a dream that big, coming true.
As we drove into the preschool parking lot, it wasn’t just the little girls getting excited for their pajama day, I was starting to feel rather bubbly over the affair. As I parked, other little ones clutching teddies and holding their parents hands were going down the steps to the preschool. WAIT!
BACK UP! The other ones were clutching, TEDDIES! AHHHHH! I knew before I even looked in the back seat that we were teddyless. No teddies. In a car that normally has a few story books, a sleeve of crackers, an apple, someone’s hoodie, a whole bag of things on route to the Goodwill, but this time of course, NO teddies in sight. Again, Murphy’s law at work. When the van is always loaded with all sorts of stuff…except on the day that you need a few lovies…well that is par for the course when D is out of town. Blame it on me being too clean and organized this week.
I didn’t say a thing to the girls. We grabbed their lady bug back packs and headed for the door and it didn’t take them more than a second to realize that something was wrong with this picture. As we walked into the welcoming room and they saw all their friends holding their stuffies, that was it. Victoria’s lip started to tremble and Kate’s brow furrowed even more than usual and she gave me a look that said, “Mom, this just won’t do!”
I acknowledged their disappointment and apologized several times for forgetting their teddies. Victoria asked me several times if I could PLEEESE just drive home and get them. Kate let her do all the talking but was very invested in what her sister was saying. I started to tell them it’s really unfortunate that we forgot their teddies but to drive home would be a waste of gas (totally against my being green and frugal) and perhaps their teddies were happier at home anyway.
Victoria’s eyes grew round and surprised. I don’t think she has ever heard me say no to anything, of any consequence anyway. When I saw that look of deep, DEEP, disappointment in her eyes, I KNEW, I was going to cave. As tired as I was, I knew I was was going to drive all the way home, pick up teddies and then drive all the way back to the preschool. (you know we don’t live right in town right?) I was prepared to do that for my daughters and they recognized me relenting and had hope in their eyes….and then their teacher, Miss C, had overheard our conversation and she came to the rescue.
“Kate and Victoria, how would you like to bring one of the preschool stuffies to the pajama party?” she offered. They looked at each other and almost in unison said, “Okay.” And off they went in search of a furry friend. I whispered, “thank you” to Miss C, and followed the girls into the next room where said stuffed animals lived when they weren’t in the arms of a child.
As I kissed two, HAPPY, little girls goodbye, each holding a new friend, I thought how very blessed I was to experience this moment. Although over the years of trying to conceive these last babies to complete our family, I experienced a lot of disappointment, it was only when I was able to shift my focus and let go, when they arrived at long last. My sweet dream came true. Doubly blessed with them and thrice blessed with William, Kathryn and Victoria.
Isn’t that true for anything we desire in life though?. Sometimes, no amount of laser focus on our intention, brings what we want into our life. Sometimes, we have to shift, take a deep breath and let go and then and only then is disappointment replaced with joy and peace. A sense of well being floats over us and then, sometimes, something even better than we ever DREAM comes to us.
As I walked into our house, look who greeted me….
The little girls teddies, Audrey and Lavender, waiting patiently and contentedly, side by side on our stair railing. Perhaps how my little girls waited for us, wherever they were before coming to earth.
This was a good lesson for me today. After a really busy week, things turned out really well. I just need to follow the little girls lead and be open to bringing another furry friend to the party.
When I went back to pick up the girls from preschool, they were happy and excited and as we headed to the van, with me wearing Victoria’s bear hat on my head, they took turns sharing stories of all the fun activities they had experienced that morning. I told them that I was REALLY proud of how they accepted the bear disaster with such grace and how I would like to do something fun with them when we got home. Soooooooo…
As soon our coats were put away, with bears in their arms, we all went down to our Hobbit’s Hollow (our crawl space media room….I have to write a blog post about this space) and we made two big bowls of popcorn. We brought it upstairs, I made a healthy smoothie and hooked up my computer to our big screen T.V. in the family room and we proceeded to have a Beatrix Potter film festival. The movie we watched is called, (click on the hyperlink if you can’t see the YouTube link below) The World of Peter Rabbit and Friends, episode 1
It’s a delightful show and the music is beautiful.
I often think of Will, Kathryn and Victoria as my little bunnies and some of our favourite books to read together are the little books we have by Beatrix Potter. Alyssa loved them when she was a young child and I think it inspired her fondness for Victorian literature.
When Grace was a baby, I bought this sweet wooden wall hanging, (very cottagy) with three little bunnies hopping on a blue wooden ribbon. I didn’t know then that we would be welcoming three more little ones into our family. (Watch how you decorate your house is all I can say) Below, is a picture of the little nursery we made for Will when he was a baby. See the three bunnies on the end wall. Talk about using space wisely. We turned our former walk in closet into a delightful nursery. Here are a few pictures from when he was a baby.
I love the colour of the nursery’s walls. It’s called “soft earth” by Ralph Lauren. Lovely and peaceful. In this picture you can see the three bunnies over the crib
The room is so small that we did the entire end wall in mirror
His bedding was sage green and cream and had little lady bugs and dragon flies on it….little did we know but his baby sisters would be born in May and were called our little “lady bugs” when I was pregnant with them
The blue chair in his room was bought almost 20 years ago for our first baby’s nursery…..I’ve nursed every one of our little ones in this chair….the pillow is one I made and embroidered for Will…”Allow Miracles to Happen” The crib is also old…we bought it for our first baby 20 years earlier…originally it was white but we put a tea stain on it for Will…and D reinforced it to make sure it was still safe for him.
Will was only 23 months old when the twins came to earth, so we left him in the nursery and the babies crib was in our room for the first year of their life. They slept comfortably and happily together in that crib until they were one. Often I would find them curled up together in the middle of the night. Notice the the pair of cottage craft bunnies over their bed…the Bunny theme continues.
I I thought I would share the above pictures because so many people I know wonder where we find room for all of our children. I like our babies and young children close so this has worked out really well for us. There was a time when we thought we had to have everything for our children. When we had our first baby, we had a fancy nursery for her and I think she would have been much happier in her crib right next to our bed. We all have to find what works for us, but my advice to new parents is, don’t spend a lot on baby things, decorations, baby clothes, because babies just want to be in your arms. They want to be held and feel safe.
Isn’t that truly what we all want?
Well, D arrived home safely as I was typing this blog post. I took about 1/2 hour to bring him up todate on all the happenings and then he said, “I’ll just read it in your blog.” So, dear readers, I think I had better go and follow him to bed. Each of us has to find ways to shift when disappointment arises in our lives but I hope the next time you are saying, “oh crap,” you will put on your pajamas, find a furry friend to hug, make some popcorn and watch a good movie…or better yet, find a great blog to read.
For those of you with little ones, I hope you sit and watch the above YouTube together. It’s really quite magical. And of course, may all your sweet dreams come true.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
I’ve been holding my breath ever since Will started kindergarten a month ago. Today I exhaled. There is a lot of history here which I could never start to share completely with you but I will give you a peak into the last 6 years. Well, actually it goes farther back than that. It goes back to June 2004 when D and I got surprisingly pregnant with our “Moonbeam” baby.
I say, surprisingly because this baby was conceived AFTER our daughter Grace was born, when I was in my 40’s. We had worked so hard to bring her into the world and neither of us thought we would ever get pregnant again. During the full moon cycle that month, another baby was conceived. I’ll never forget that night since I woke up in the wee hours to see a luminous full moon reflecting white light off the waters of the lake below our home. It was breathtaking and full of magic.
We were absolutely shocked when we found out I was pregnant. I mean if you knew how hard and what we had gone through to conceive Grace, then you’d understand our amazement. D walked around very quiet, his way of processing the news, and I just stayed busy with our other children. In my quiet moments I would think about our new baby and I was in awe.
Just as we were wrapping our heads around the idea of six children and starting to work with a contractor to design and build a bigger house for us, I miscarried. D seemed relieved as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. We had missed the bullet of sleepless nights, years of diapers, and of course a lifetime of caring for another child. I was sad. Over the course of the weeks and months after the miscarriage, I couldn’t shake my grief. I felt like someone was lost. Someone was missing. Like a piece of me was gone forever. I started dreaming about a child and then I started to hear a soft whisper telling me he was patiently waiting.We came together in my dreams and danced with joy.
Even though I knew the odds of getting pregnant again were against us due to my age, and the risk of having a baby with health issues were high, I convinced D to join me in the journey of trying to bring our Moonbeam baby back into our lives.
Me in 2008 before Will was conceived
D in 2008
I won’t go detail regarding the efforts we went to conceive, in this short blog post because I’m actually writing a book on this journey, but when I finally found out we were pregnant again, I knew there was a very special soul coming to earth. I would breathe light filled energy, full of love into my womb and just smile. Of course, after experiencing several miscarriages, I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop but my heart said to enjoy each day. I would blow my fears out into the Universe and recite my mantra, “all shall be well.”
Will was born on June 25, 2009 after a quick but intense labour and delivery. When my Doctor lifted him up to place him on my tummy, I knew him instantly. He was the baby from my dreams. He was our Moonbeam baby. He was round and chubby and looked like a happy Buddha except he was crying loudly. When he was wrapped in warm cotton blankets and placed into my arms he quieted, wide eyed at the world around him.
From day one I sensed he was a bit different than our other babies. I couldn’t even put him down to go to the bathroom or he would cry bitterly. I thought this was a bit odd since our other babies would sleep a lot in the first few days on earth. He would rouse as soon as I would lay him down and start to cry, and so I hardly put him down. He slept with me and I wore him in a sling.
Will home from the hospital…just putting him next to this cake for a picture made him fussy….Grace is thrilled
When Will was just 7 weeks old we went camping…yes I look rough but I was so happy to have this baby…this is the sling he basically lived in for the first 6 months of his life
I thought once he settle into the rhythm of our household, he would relax but he never did.
He loved being near his siblings and would quiet when they were close. In this picture from L to R..Mitchell is 13, Harrison is 10 and Grace is 6
Since I’d waited so long to have him in my arms, as exhausted as I was with a newborn and 5 older children, I just didn’t put him down, literally. For six months he was always in my arms. When I had to put him in his car seat to travel anywhere, he fussed and was always on the verge of really howling. As soon as he settled into my arms, he would fall asleep or just smile at the world around him.
I felt like I had to pinch myself…he was with me at last
I loved having our baby close
Something I learned with our other children was how fast the first year flies by and a good mantra to live by was, “this too shall pass.” Occasionally, at the Baby Mamas group I attended, I realized Will was an extremely high needs baby compared to others but he was so healthy, so beautiful, that I just chocked it up to him being an extremely special and unique soul.
This wise soul taught so much BEFORE he was even came to earth
Since we listened to his intense needs from day one, he grew to be a confident, trusting little boy. We found he attached easily to other people and had the ability to love deeply and give immense hugs. I had a few intuitive people comment on the light filled energy surrounding him and they told me he was a special soul.
A rare moment that he slept out of my arms…it never lasted more than 20 minutes
When Will started preschool, concerns over his social development became apparent. On the very first day he gave his teachers huge hugs which made me so proud but then I later learned, showing physical affection was discouraged. If he was going to fit into acceptable parameters, then we would have to work with him. Encourage him to give his friends space and remember not to pop their “bubble,” and to ask if giving a hug would be alright. He had this huge personality. Most of the children were shy, some were not communicating well, others were having separation anxiety when their parents left them. He was living life large, confident, as if he had waited a long time to come to earth. He wasn’t going to waste another moment. Everything was great! Each day was better than before. The smallest thing would make his exclaim to me, “Mommy, this was the BEST day!”
Will with his preschool helpers
He was intensely curious and interested in everything. He would ask endless questions, even when he knew the answers. I do know he overwhelmed other friends at preschool with his intensity, his size, for he was big for his age. He was also a high needs child, in the sense that he demanded attention and was easily stimulated. If the teachers added a small touch in the playroom for instance, Will would be the first to notice it. Things that I had thought were brilliant seemed like barriers to his learning from his teacher’s point of view. It made me sad to think he had to limit himself to be socially acceptable and curtail his immense enthusiasm. Readying himself for school.
Will on his preschool graduation day, June 2014. His light is ALWAYS on.
As you know, I have qualms about the school system providing him what he needs but I have been hesitant in believing I am totally capable of creating a well balanced, rich learning environment for him to thrive as well. A part of me feels the educators know best and it is in Will’s interests to learn how to quell his intensity, be patient, resist his impulses and learn to moderate the way he responds to stimulation. The part that doesn’t feel right, is the feeling that we have bought a bag of used goods. That our education system in not keeping pace with children like Will. Well to be honest, most children, for each child is unique and special. Each learns at their own pace and it’s tragic that we have to hold those who are accelerated in their thinking back for others to catch up, or visa versa. Will still has social issues to deal with but he is flying with regards to his academic achievements. We all have “stuff” to work on and the fact that he remains so joy filled buoys me into believing he is still teaching me, not the other way around.
Will reminds me to slide through life with joy…here he is at Davison Orchard Farm
Last week at kindergarten, the children were playing a game called, “you catch me and kiss me” and Will was chasing girls AND boys and when he caught them, he tried to kiss them. He’s fast by the way, so this probably scared a few of the children as they were caught easily. They are all learning their limits. He and the other children were told that this was not appropriate and they were asked to stop playing this game. Will must have been taunted because he was caught doing it again and received time out. Then, a few days later he told me that the children were asking him to chase them again, he said, “Mommy, I told them no,” but he was obviously sad about it as he hung his head. He’s struggling to know how to make friends.
Then today there was another incident. The class was outside making apple juice and although I didn’t get the full story, I heard that Will had pushed another little boy and received more time out. When I picked him up after school he ran to me, clinging as if he hadn’t seen me in years. When I heard about the incident I was perplexed. I want him so fit in but not lose his own spirit along the way. It seems like once children start school they start losing their soul light. He’s struggling to find his place in his kindergarten class. His place in the world.
I just don’t remember this from raising our other children. Most of our children were quieter, not so intense. Their teachers always said they were very well behaved and it was hard getting them to talk. They all did extremely well academically but were socially withdrawn compared to Will….although probably more the norm. So this huge soul energy is new to me. I just don’t want his spirit to be crushed in the haste to teach him socially acceptable behavior. Maybe we parents all feel the same about our children but because we waited so long to have this little guy, I just want everything to be easy for him now that he is here. I want the world to recognize the gifts of love and joy he has brought.
While we raced around after school today, driving Grace to piano, the little kids to the library, picking up Harrison and his volleyball friends from jazz band and driving them to their volleyball game, and finally, picking up our oldest son from the University bus, it dawned on me. No amount of worrying or concern was going to solve this but it’s no big deal. The mantra that I had used while I was pregnant with Will, would provide peace for me. No matter what, “all shall be well.” Will taught me to let go and trust before he was on earth and now, I have to remember this lesson.
I’m thankful that he is here. That I even have this issue to contemplate and that reminds me of the lyrics of a song I used to sing to our older children, “Who’s to say, what’s impossible, well they forget, this world keeps spinning and with each new day I can feel a change in everything.”
So I don’t know what you are facing in your life, but we all have fears and doubts, especially for our children. Or even if you are trying to conceive, you may have huge doubts and fears (whose to say what’s impossible)…..maybe this blog post will help you feel a connection. Remembering that it’s okay, all shall be well…..feel a change in everything.
Sing along with me in this YouTube video….Jack Johnson and Curious George…he reminds me a lot of my sweet boy….”where there is a Will there is a way.” My Moonbeam baby arrived almost 5 years to the night I woke in wonder over seeing that magical June 2004 moon. Sometimes miracles are so subtle.
Allow Miracles to Happen….at every stage of your life
My endlessly loving, enthusiastic, curious little boy
Well they forgot This world keeps spinning And with each new day I can feel a change in everything And as the surface breaks reflections fade But in some ways they remain the same And as my mind begins to spread its wings There’s no stopping curiosity I want to turn the whole thing upside down I’ll find the things they say just can’t be found I’ll share this love I find with everyone We’ll sing and dance to Mother Nature’s songs I don’t want this feeling to go away Who’s to say I can’t do everything Well I can try And as I roll along I begin to find Things aren’t always just what they seem I want to turn the whole thing upside down I’ll find the things they say just can’t be found I’ll share this love I find with everyone We’ll sing and dance to Mother Nature’s songs This world keeps spinning and there’s no time to waste Well it all keeps spinning spinning round and round and Upside down Who’s to say what’s impossible and can’t be found I don’t want this feeling to go away Please don’t go away Please don’t go away Please don’t go away Is this how it’s supposed to be Is this how it’s supposed to be
And until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Hi! Come on in and let’s talk about hummus and growing healthy children.
As you may know from reading my blog, I’m currently homeschooling but perhaps for not much longer since it looks like the Province and the Teachers may have struck a deal. Only a vote away will tell whether I’m a home-school mama much longer.
It’s been a lot of fun. Overwhelming at times managing different age groups and certainly challenging to stay a step ahead of everyone but rewarding to see the kids light up as they learn. I’ve decided to shift my perspective with regards to education. Yes, the teachers have our children for 6 to 61/2 hours everyday, but they are all mine after school and on the weekends. We can continue working on things they have shown an interest in and continue our homeschooling in that fashion. So while the school bus may be coming next week, (Will is excited about that) I will look at the time they are gone as prep time for when they come home.
In the meantime, we have been working on all the major subjects with our older children but with the little ones, we have been practicing following a simple set of instructions and accomplishing small projects. Sitting still and keeping their hands on their own work is a journey unto itself but we are making progress. I try to have some baroque music on while they work, to stimulate their brains.
Of course we are doing lots of reading and sounding out words while remembering our sight words. We count all the time, from the moment they wake up from how many buckets it will take to rinse the shampoo out of their hair, to how many apple pieces are on the plate and calculating how many each child receives.
I found a great web site I wanted to share with my blog friends, who have young children and want to print off simple sheets for their little ones to colour, perhaps cut out and paste.There are also many activities and even a Whiz kid math program if you have older children. (This is a U.K. site…waving Hi to my oldest daughter Alyssa teaching in the U.K.)
Here is the cool web site, “Activity Village” I have found and these are the sheets that I have printed off for the kids. Every day we do a new letter and when completed we put it their own individual books to look at throughout the day.
I found these under printable alphabet sheets….on the Activity Village web site
And while the kids are happily colouring, cutting out and pasting their pictures, I like to take a few moments and make one of our favourite snacks. Hummus.
A few of my friends have asked how we encourage our children to eat their vegetables since their children won’t touch anything in the veggie category. This is so simple that I don’t know why other parents haven’t figured it out. “We” are the ones who do the shopping and prepare the food. If the kids want to stay alive, and they do believe me, they will eat anything you put in front of them, EVENTUALLY!
Having your children help you in the garden, growing food inspires them to try all sorts of vegetables.
There have been studies done on healthy eating showing children who have been given a wide range of vegetables from early age develop a desire to eat those same foods later into what would normally be their picky years. Plus, here is another benefit; they achieve higher IQ’s.
Now I have to tell you we have had our fair share of picky eaters out of our 8 children. It was frustrating at times but we just kept offering them healthy choices and encouraged them to try a little bit of everything. Sure, there was a time when they resisted foods that mixed together, like soups and casseroles but those same (older children) are food cultured now.
So be persistent and positive with your little ones and I hope you try my hummus recipe
.Here’s what you need to make hummus.
Do you have chick peas, garlic, olive oil, tahini and lemon juice?..you have the makings for hummus
Hope’s Hummus recipe
1- 19 ounce chick peas drained and rinsed 2 tbsp tahini 1 or 2 garlic cloves….I prefer my hummus really garlicky 2 tbsp of virgin olive oil….maybe more if you like your hummus really smooth 4 tbsp of fresh lemon juice
Now, for the easy peasy instructions. Into your food processor, put your chick peas, tahini, garlic and lemon juice and mix it really well, then slowly add your olive oil until the hummus is the texture you desire.
Well that’s it…now decide what you want to eat your hummus with. Today I cut up some vegetables and served them for snack time. My oldest daughter likes to put her hummus on a piece of celery and put a line of raisins in a row…yes she is 24 but some of us never truly grow up.
The old ants on a log is great with hummus
The cool thing about making it today is I have some hummus for the twins preschool snack tomorrow
.BONUS!
Come and get it!
Dig in girls
Will has loved hummus since he was a toddler
And on the topic of growing healthy children, if our children are going to watch T.V. or videos, I like the message they are receiving to continue with the theme we are trying to teach at home. Like the following as it just emphasizes my thoughts about junk food.
My kids are obsessed with The Berenstain Bears books and videos lately. Check out this one below however note if you are using an Apple product, you may not be able to view it…check out the link below.
D and I have been reading these books and watching Berenstain Bear videos with our little ones for over 20 years now. They never get old
I hope you enjoy the hummus recipe. A great source of protein and lovely as a snack with veggies. And as far as growing healthy children, whether we have them ourselves or not, we can all contribute to raising the next generation of healthy children. I believe that statement Hilary Clinton made about it taking a village to raise children.
It does.
I’m glad my village is close to getting our kids back into the classrooms.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Life around the homestead has been busier than usual this past week as we have been helping our oldest daughter prepare to leave home. Although she has been in and out of the proverbial nest for the last 6 years while she has been attending the University of Victoria, this trip is the big take off.
Tomorrow she leaves for the U. K. where she will begin her teaching career and hopefully be inspired to write (or complete) one of the many novels she has in the works. We are really sad to see her leave but are also very excited that she is going to one of her “bucket list” places to live in the world. Actually, the U.K. is at the TOP of the list.
Red luggage. This is Alyssa’s Graduation present (B. Ed program) from us
It’s quite fitting as well since she is an English Major. She has been enamored with English history ever since she first started to read. I’ve told her many times that she must have lived there in a past lifetime as she has been so passionate about anything to do with the British Isles however there is that genetic connection as well.
Almost a hundred years ago, my fraternal grandfather, Robert Clark, left Workington, England (Lake District) with two of his brothers. They left their mother, father and many brothers and sisters (there were 13 kids in that family and I often think of what Great Grandmother Jane’s life was like compared to mine) I can’t imagine how their parents must have felt as they watched their three sons pack and then say good bye.
The three sons never returned to England. In fact, one of the brothers drowned in a river in Alberta, Canada and my grandfather had to write home and break the news to the family. I can’t imagine how painful that must have been for his parents. Regardless, that was the way it was back then before plane travel took off and the age of internet or even Skype. So in a way, I feel like Alyssa is going home. I’m sure Great Grandma Jane is smiling and will watching over her.
Well that is the back story but more recently within our immediate family, we have been preparing for this send off for a number of years and in fact in our laundry room is a plaque that says,
To Our Children We Give Two Things, One is roots… The Other is Wings.
Why it’s in the laundry room I can’t say….maybe it’s because the red in the plaque matches my LG washer and dryer? OR it’s to remind me as I wash and dry endless amounts of children’s clothing that the everyday act of caring and nurturing for them is the true gift.
Will sleeping peacefully in the laundry room….it has great white noise when the dryer is on..which is ALWAYS!
I feel like we have really lived that motto to the best of our ability as parents. We have given our children a stable home, a place where their needs come first and their voices are heard. We have also done a good job at allowing them to experience a diverse childhood with exposure to many activities and have provided them with a good education.
I have noticed that Alyssa has been irritated easily in the last few months by our large family and all the various personalities within. I see her flapping her wings, getting stronger daily but not being able to leave the nest quite yet. The winds haven’t been quite right. Once she takes off tomorrow, she won’t be looking back. Instead she will be enjoying the scenery and the experiences along the way.
Another cool insight I have had as I process this letting go moment is that I have never felt more connected with the world as when I think of my oldest baby out in it. She is out with her bigger family and she is going to be okay.
She’s made mention recently that it’s probably easier for us to say good bye to her since our nest will still be jam packed. Yes it’s true, no empty nest syndrome around here but just because we still have lots of children in the house, it certainly doesn’t mean it will be any easier to watch her go. Her leaving is HUGE. She was our first baby. The one we experimented on. The one we hovered over for the first three years until her brother Clark came on the scene. We thought she was the most beautiful, engaging baby in all the world. And she was. She has grown into this strong young woman and even though her voice is quiet, her presence in our lives has been immense. Her leaving will not just create an empty place in our home but in our hearts as well. It’s all kind of bittersweet as we don’t know when we will be together again.
Like my great grandmother Jane, who still had a house full when my grandfather and his brothers left home, I don’t know when I will be able to see Alyssa again. Yes, I will be saving traveling overseas money as soon as she leaves but there is always something that comes up. Oh yeah, we still have to renovate over the garage to accommodate our teenage, drum playing son, the roof of the homestead will have to be replaced and I have huge garden plans that will take not just money but time. You know what I mean, there is always something that comes up. Not to mention her brother Mitchell is off to University in 2 weeks (stay tuned for a post about that good bye moment) and we still haven’t bought everything he will need for his University/cluster housing experience.
I’m not worrying about the money aspect though because somehow it always comes. I do believe that when we have total focus and intention towards any goal it comes to be. I’ve taught Alyssa this well, because I’ve shown her how I reached for the things that I wanted most in the world (the lifestyle to remain at home raising my children and my children themselves, some of whom didn’t come with ease) and eventually all my dreams came true. Even more abundantly than I ever dreamed. I know her dreams will come as well……they are already starting to manifest.
One other belief I hold close to my heart that makes this process easier, is best said in the following poem by Kahlil Gibran,
On Children Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Hmmm…isn’t that great! Every part of that poem just resonates with my soul and I hope that my bow has been stable for the surest arrows to fly
Tomorrow when Alyssa flies away, I hope she knows all my love and happiness go with her. And Alyssa, if you are reading this, don’t forget the words on the pillow I embroidered for you years ago. They were the words that a piano adjudicator said to you during one of your music festivals. And they were;
“Relax, Breathe, Trust and Enjoy,“
Don’t be afraid to let the melody soar….great music is within you.
My daughter Alyssa getting ready to take off….2014
Until I see you again, may you be well, happy and peaceful. (and for my blog readers that have children…….let them fly)
