Recipe: Fake It 'Till You Make It S'mores

The Boy in question.

20 minutes.  That's how long the boy sat, screaming, in the middle of the sidewalk on a particularly windy side-street late this afternoon.  He was unaffected by the cold; unmoved by threats and friendly passersby alike.  It took another 15 minutes, a significant amount of dragging, sack-of-potato-carrying,  and some heavy (and seriously questionable) negotiations in order to travel the not-quite-three blocks home.  Maybe that doesn't sound very long.  It was VERY LONG.

(This event feels like the culmination of a week's worth of bad listening, poor attitude, mood swings and epic fussiness.  For the love of God I hope he doesn't top this.)

So after bath-dinner-bedtime which included some minor skirmishes and near-miss off-the-deep-ends (all executed solo as the husband is off on an unfortunately-timed business trip), I stumbled foggily out of his bedroom and commenced to stress-eat* my favorite MacGyver'd junk food: the Fake It 'Till You Make It S'more.

Here is what you need: Carrs whole wheat crackers, some chocolate. 

Here is what you do: put half a square of chocolate (we had Ghirardelli semi-sweet which has big squares) on a cracker.  Eat it in several bites.  Repeat. 

Try not to repeat too many times or the guilt will undo the soothing qualities of your semi-upscale, improvised, adult s'more-like treat.  If you happen to have a marshmallow around, sure, go for it.  But it really isn't necessary.  In any case, I do not recommend microwaving any part of this food.

That's it.  Now, with head cleared and sweet-tooth satisfied you can return to your productive evening.  Maybe with a glass of wine.  Or two. 

Off you go!

xo

*I know.  Stress eating is no good.  I don't endorse it.  I try not to do it.  But these things happen.  And then I turn lemons into lemonade and use my guilt to propel me to the gym.  So it all balances out . . . right?

Liz Lerman-ing Thanksgiving

Since I posted my plan here, I figured I ought to follow up and let you know how it actually turned out.  And I decided to follow Liz Lerman's Critical Response Process*.  I will be both the "artist" and the "audience" in the following conversation. Here goes:

Statement of meaning.  The audience say what they found meaningful, evocative, striking and exciting in the work.  This needs to be a positive statement.

• I really enjoyed using the plates, glasses and silver that belonged to my family and that we always used at our family holiday celebrations; it felt cozy to see and use those objects again.
• I liked the way our purple mashed potatoes drew attention and took up space visually on the plates; I liked how their inclusion honored my son who'd been enthusiastic about the choice to go purple.
• It was exciting to see such a more-elaborate-than-usual meal come together.
• It felt good to go running around outside after our long day inside and big meal.

Artist as questioner.  The artist asks questions about his or her work.  Ideally the questions are formulated in order to require an articulate response as opposed to a yes/no answer.

• How did it feel to put the trappings of Thanksgiving onto what was otherwise an ordinary family dinner in terms of people and place? (A: I was really crabby about it for the days preceeding and especially on Thanksgiving morning.  It wasn't clear to me how doing a lot more work for the same old family dinner was going to pay off in any meaningful way.  I'm still not completely satisfied with the final result, but I am glad we made the effort.  It felt good to create an event and a moment of pause for our son.)
• How effective did you find the Thankful Alphabet game where everyone took turns saying something they were thankful for that started with the next letter of the alphabet? (A: You know, I made that up on the spot.  I'd been looking for a way to create a conversation around thankfulness that would be accessible to our son - who is three and a half - and while he opted not to participate in saying what he was thankful for, he was very engaged in the conversation that developed between his dad and I and contributed to what we were saying.  I thought the alphabet was a good but maybe not perfect structure as many things and people for which we are deeply thankful were left out because they started with a popular letter of the alphabet and, likewise, some letters forced us to stretch for fluffier items on our thankful lists.)
• What other elements or traditions came to mind during this thanksgiving that weren't included? (A: I had this funny impulse that we should say some sort of non-religious prayer - a meditation or something - before we began our meal and I can't say if I wish we had or not.  There were also a number of menu items that I loved growing up but couldn't include in our celebration this year.)
• How did you feel watching the parade on TV with your family? (A: Growing up, I LOVED to watch the parade on TV while we were cooking and getting ready.  However, having it on with our son - who isn't really allowed to watch TV usually, which was already bringing some tension to the situation for me - didn't feel so good.  As an adult watching the parade, it's possible to enjoy the performances and displays while simultaneously understanding that the whole thing is one giant advertisement.  Watching with our not-yet-media-savvy son, I was suddenly rather uncomfortable and found myself saying snarkier/grinchier things that I would have liked in an effort to break the spell of marketing.  By contrast, the National Dog Show was a big hit and felt much more wholesome and age-appropriate.)

Neutral questions. The audience asks neutral questions to the artist about the work, the artist answers.  Questions are neutral when they do not have an opinion embedded in them.

How closely did the experience of Thanksgiving this year match your idea of what the day would be like?  (A: I was surprised in the morning by how upset - how emotional - I was to be doing Thanksgiving just ourselves.  I was feeling really lonely totally disconnected from my family-of-origin and kind of angry.  I was likewise surprised by how much I enjoyed the second half of the day - once the work was done and the stress of succeeding or failing was behind me - and how meaningful things like using the fancy dishes felt in the moment.)

Did you discover anything unexpected through the process of preparing and executing Thanksgiving? (A: Beyond the above, not really.  I went into Thanksgiving with a lot of resistance or, at least, unhappy resignation.  Also anxiety about having to figure it all out by myself.  I was gratified to succeed but it was a minor success.  Nothing about our meal was particularaly outstanding or memorable.  I'd say, in that regard, I got out of it what I put into it.  I took small risks and the rewards were proportional.)

Opinions.  The audience state opinions subject to permission from the artist: "I have an opinion about . . . . Would you like to hear it?  The artist has the option to say no.

• I have an opinion about the Turkey. Would you like to hear it?
• Yes.
• I think you could have cooked it longer.  It was done but I think only *just* and you probably would have felt more relaxed if you weren't secretly afraid you were about to give yourself and your son some kind of food poisoning

---

• I have an opinion about the Wine.  Would you like to hear it?
• Yes.
• I don't think the wine paired especially well with the meal.  It was fine, but it didn't do anything to add to a sense of occasion or "specialness." 
• I agree.

---

• I have an opinion about the structure of the day.  Would you like to hear it?
• Yes.
• It would have been nice to get outside before the meal, maybe even to watch some of the parade live, but I think that probably wasn't possible technically . . .
• That's right.
• So I thought it was great that you nevertheless went outside to play after the meal, even though it was getting dark.  I might encourage you to move the meal just a bit earlier to give yourself more playtime between the main meal and dessert.  I also thought it made sense to have dessert much later.
• Thank you.

---

• I have an opinion about the dessert.  Would you like to hear it?
• Yes.
• I LOVED the pumpkin pudding plus a cookie instead of a pie with a crust.  Those cookies were BANANAS they were so delicious.  And I always forget how delicious fresh whipped cream is.
• I agree!

And there you have it!  Far more than you wanted to know about my Thanksgiving.  I'd say the main takeaway is: MAKE THOSE COOKIES!

* A caveat: I have participated in discussions using CRP but I have not had the pleasure of studying with Ms. Lerman herself and do not profess to be doing this perfectly.  I borrowed this blog posts's outline of the process to guide my own. 

The Thanksgiving Menu Plan

Breakfast

For Breakfast, to make the day feel a little more special, we'll have this coffee cake with some scrambled eggs and fruit.  

The Main Event

Sometime mid-afternoon, we'll have THE MEAL which will be comprised of:

• Turkey a la Mark Bittman
• Vegetarian Stuffing (Although I'm pretty tempted by this corn bread stuffing . . .)
• Mashed Potatoes (There's a request from the kiddo to make these with blue potatoes; we'll see what Whole Foods can do for us in the potato department)
• Twice-Baked Butternut Squash (This is the vegetarian main.  I'll sub in some goat cheese for the cashew cheese to save myself time since the dish doesn't need to be vegan).  
• My Favorite Cranberry sauce 
• Roasted Brussles Sprouts

More or less everything hangs out in the oven at 400 for 20-40 minutes and I think one of the biggest Thanksgiving traditions is not-very-hot food (perfect for the toddler!) so in theory it should all work out . . .

Dessert

My vote is to take a break after the big meal and go outside to run around.  When we come back in it will be time for dessert: Pumpkin Pie Pudding and Ginger Cookies served with fresh whipped cream.

Happy Thanksgiving!  I'll let you know how it all turns out! xo

This App is EVERYTHING

On our way . . .

Every morning the goal is to hustle the kiddo out the door by 8:00 AM so we have plenty of time to travel the 18 blocks to school in time for the 8:30 start.  As you might expect, we don't always meet our leave-the-house goal and, with a tighter time frame we are faced with the age old question: bus or subway?  

Transit knows the answer.  

Transit is an app another mom told me about.  You open it up and it gives you time estimates for all of the subway and bus lines near where you are.  You can tap on any of the options and see the schedule for the next several busses or trains on that line.  It's brilliant.  Three minutes 'till the bus? We can make it!  Twelve minutes 'till the next bus?  Let's head to the train.  

And it's not just for New York!  Click here for a list of other regions Transit covers.

Did I mention it's free?  

You're welcome.  xo

Finish Line

The sixth episode of Gemma & The Bear - the Season Finale - was released this past Monday, and I've been crabby all week.   

Tuesday night found me sitting on the kitchen floor, reading Facebook on my phone, eating old pistachio gelatto out of the container and blowing off the gym.  Basically: willfully feeling bad about myself.  

What the . . . ?

I wrote a bit about the Gemma & The Bear journey here.  What I don't think I expressed was the extent to which the whole experience has felt like an intensive graduate program in content creation.  I know so much more than I did and am so much stronger and more capable in this area than I was a year ago.  It's kind of incredible and, looking at what I personally spent, it was probably a bargain.

So here I am.  A recent graduate without a job; in that middle place between being still tired and frayed from the final push and not yet having begun moving towards the next thing (whatever it is).  

My plan is to spend September (and maybe some of October) figuring out what the next thing might be and making an action-plan to move towards it.  August saw me struggling more and more to meet my own blogging and newsletter deadlines and so, while I hope to put more here during the next few weeks, I'm not making any promises.   I've got other writing to do in other places.  I've got a little boy starting a new school.  I'm hoping to do some quality big-picture thinking and take care of a bunch of housekeeping along the way.

In the meantime, I hope you will enjoy Gemma & The Bear.  For all of my crabbyness, it feels really good - and I'm extremely proud - to have reached this particular milestone.  Can't wait to share the next thing with you soon . . . 

Good Idea: toddler open mics

Previously, my kiddo went through a phase where he told kid-style jokes which he mostly learned from a library book about Fozzie Bear (whence he also learned to punctuate his jokes by saying "wokka wokka") and popsicle sticks.

Currently, he has moved into a phase in which he makes up his own jokes.  For instance:

So here is my idea: an open mic night for toddlers! (and their parents!)

I imagine it would happen on, say, a Sunday around 5PM - early enough for the kids (aka "the talent") not to be melting down because its too close to bed time, but still late enough for the adults to enjoy a cocktail in a socially-acceptable way.  The venue could be pretty much anywhere, though it would be imperative that adults be allowed to bring in kid snacks.

The kids could go up and tell jokes and stories and do impressions.  I feel like it would be all kinds of good practice for them in terms of public speaking, being a good audience member, empathy, delayed gratification . . . And while non-parents would think it was a horror show (and they wouldn't be wrong), parents would find it totally entertaining (and maybe a good way to make other parent-friends?). 

This would NOT ever be an opportunity for scouts to come find child stars of the future.  It would be purely for the entertainment and gratification of kids and their parents.  And while I'm sure much of the time it would be a mess, I'm also sure that it would yield Andy Kaufman-worthy moments of avant garde comedy GENIUS! 

What's your best kid joke?  Post it in the comments!

Summer reading for Peanuts

My kiddo - who is 3.25 years old - has loved stories pretty much forever.  He loves to be read to and he loves to be told made-up stories.  I noticed a while ago that, if we were making up a story for him, he had a pretty high tolerance for a story much longer than the average picture book.

We dipped our toe in with The Invention of Hugo Cabret which alternates a few pages of plain text with many pages of text-free illustration.  Later, over the course of a couple of low-energy sick days, we plowed through Peter Pan.  So we continued. 

Mixing longer books in with the picture books kept me from getting really sick of reading and re-reading the same five-minute story over and over again.  Longer stories have also been great as a way to enjoy some quiet time after a big day at camp or on the playground, and they keep us all entertained on longer car rides or the occasional flight. There's also something nice about having more entertainment in a smaller, lighter volume given all the other stuff we're inevitably schlepping around.

Early on, we had some hits and some misses.  The Wizard of Oz was great . . . except for that scary chapter where she sends her pack of wolves to attack Dorothy and friends (yikes!).  The Enormous Crocodile was a pretty big (if slightly intense) hit which got me excited for more Roald Dahl, but The Magic Finger which focuses on characters who hunt ducks introduced a slew of concepts we weren't necessarily excited to discuss and Esio Trot was too much about spelling or romance (or both).  James and the Giant Peach seemed like it would be a good idea, 'till I started to read it and realized that James' parents are killed by an escaped rhino in the first two pages.  Duh, mom.

But, with the help of the wonderful people at our favorite local book store, Bank Street Books, we've really hit our stride this Summer.  These books all hit the sweet spot of being a great story, but with mostly accessible vocabulary for a younger kiddo, a picture on every page or two, and content that doesn't venture too far beyond their years.  And they're fun to read as an adult.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl.  I'm a lifelong fan of Dahl, but most of his books are too edgy for our kiddo right now.  Not so Charlie and the Chocolate Factory which we borrowed from the library and read all the way through at least four or five times before returning it a couple of weeks later. 

My Father's Dragon by Ruth Stiles Gannett.  This is a trilogy, although I happen to like the first book the best.  Each is about 70 pages long with a picture on every other page or so.  They are stories of a young, kindhearted and very independent little boy going on an adventure to find and rescue a captive baby dragon and the adventures that ensue. 

Mercy Watson series by Kate DiCamillo.  There are six books in the Mercy Watson series beginning with Mercy Watson to the Rescue, about the (mis)adventures of a toast-loving pig named Mercy, her owners Mr. & Mrs. Watson and their neighbors on Deckawoo Drive.  All the books are lushly illustrated in full color by Chris Van Dusen.  The books feel old-fashioned and wholesome though they are contemporary.  The characters are a bunch of delightful oddballs.

Bink & Gollie by Kate Di Camillo & Alison McGhee.  We discovered Bink & Gollie through the Mercy Watson books.  There are currently three books in this series about a pair of best friends who love roller-skating, pancakes and each other most of all.  These books feel a bit like the Elephant & Piggie books for the next age group up and they're the shortest books on this list.

The Magic Treehouse by Mary Pope Osborne.  This is a fun series because it involves time travel and magic.  The first book in the series - Dinosaurs Before Dark - was an instant favorite.  A word of caution, though, as other books in the series dip in and out of being little-kiddo appropriate.  A book set during the Civil War, for example, (which I never should have agreed to read, so that's on me) prompted a discussion of war in general, and an explanation of slavery - it was just a lot for a 3 year old.  So these are recommended but not without some parental vetting. 

The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner.  Because the first book is about kids who are alone in the world, fending for themselves, we skipped it and went right on to Book Two: Surprise Island which is delightful old-fashioned.  Four siblings are allowed a summer largely to themselves on their wealthy grandfather's private island where they gather and prepare their own food, craft their own museum, and discover American Indian artifacts.  These books are probably the biggest wild-card of the group and, like the Magic Treehouse books, should probably be vetted on an individual basis for appropriateness, but the kiddo and I are well into the Woodshed Mystery (#7) and having a great time with it. 

What are you reading with the kiddos in your life this summer?  Leave a comment!