Words To Live By:

"The work will wait while you show the child the rainbow, but the rainbow won't wait while you finish the work."

Friday, February 28, 2014

No Soup For You

With Old Man Winter stubbornly holding us in his bitter grip, we've been eating a lot of warm-me up meals... stews, soups, and the like.  Especially soups.  My boys DETEST potatoes not cooked in a french fry form - we eat a lot of oven fries.  In spite of this aversion, they will eat a bowl of creamy potato soup (we call it vegetable soup) and ask for seconds.  This is big stuff in the battle of the mealtime, although Kaleb might be cluing in - the last time I made it did not go over nearly as well..  (NOTE:  The following sentence may kill your appetite.  Kaleb has actually vomited his mashed potatoes on the dinner table - I think it's a texture thing - definitely disgusting.)  Growing up, soup was always Chicken Noodle or Dutch Meatball.  Both delicious, but well, predictable.  My mom would, on occasion, make a batch of split pea... blech, no thanks!

A friend from In R Dream posted a photo on instagram the other day of a coconut squash soup she made, recipe from The Naked Label.  I couldn't find the exact recipe (most likely because I don't own the Get Naked In The Kitchen cookbook.)  I have, however, made butternut squash soup in the past.  And the craving for a yummy creamy soup just would not go away.  I picked up my squash at the grocery store yesterday and now have this just-for-me soup simmering on the stove.  My house smells delicious.  My stomach will not stop growling. I might share a bowl with Kevin if he's nice.

If you're anything like me soup and stew recipes change every time you make them.  Use what you have on hand, cross your fingers & hope for the best.  Here is my recipe for Curry Coconut Squash soup, the way I made it this time around. 

Curry Coconut Squash Soup

1 tbsp. butter
1 onion
2 jalapeños
1 large butternut squash
3-4 tbsp curry spices (to taste)
1 tbsp. cinnamon honey butter (or honey, and cinnamon)
1/3 cup - 1/2 cup apple juice
4 cups chicken broth (reduce for a thicker soup)
1 can coconut milk

Chop up that onion and those jalapeños while melting your butter (or oil) in a soup pot.  Sauté until tender, sprinkle with curry spices (I used Epicure Mango Curry Dip).   Peel & seed your squash, cut into cubes.  Add apple sauce to pan and scrape up any bits from the bottom.  Add your remaining ingredients.  I would like to point out that most recipes use honey...not honey butter... I'm aware of this, I just grabbed the wrong jar and it was too late to go back.  It works.    Stir everything together and bring to a boil.  Reduce hit, cover, and simmer on low 25 minutes or so - until your butternut squash is tender.  Your broth itself will taste delicious at this point... if it doesn't, add your favourite seasoning.  If you want to bring this soup all together, you'll need to purée in small batches with a blender or food processor.  Be careful, heat tends to make the lid blow off your blender.  Big mess.  I speak from experience.  If you find your soup too thick, add more liquid - milk, cream, chicken broth.  Once puréed to desired texture & consistency, dish up and enjoy!  This will warm you from the inside and leave Old Man Winter out in the cold.  If you're feeling selfish, keep it that pot to yourself and repeat the Seinfeld line with conviction:  "No Soup For You."

EDIT:  After I pureed this beautiful, delicious soup, I found it slightly runny.  I didn't use a very large squash and probably added wee bit too much broth.  It's still tasty though!

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Cookies for Breakfast

Today I almost achieved that most enviable of all titles:  "Best Mom in the World."  It was sitting there, just out of reach.  Tempting.  Teasing.  Whispering my name.  Alas, as fate is such a fickle creature, my hopes of laying claim to it were dashed with one quick yell across the house:  "I told you to brush your teeth!  Get going."  I fell off the precipice to wallow with the mortal mothers, resounding choruses of "You're so mean!" echoing in my ears.  Such is life.

I fed my kids cookies for breakfast.  Chewy, yummy, peanut buttery cookies.  With chocolate.  Justin was so excited he insisted he was going to tell his classmates.   Kaleb just didn't want to stop eating.

Now, before you judge me, know that these cookies weren't just any old unhealthy treat.  Besides the chocolate chips, these babies didn't have extra refined sugar, oil, or flour added to them.  It was like eating a glorified bowl of oatmeal and were healthier than most cereals to be typically found in our cupboard.

I just threw them together...I've listed the recipe of sorts below.  It wasn't exact.  A little this, a little that.  You can tweak until it suits your tastes.

Oatmeal Peanut Butter Breakfast Cookies

2 cups large flake oatmeal
1/3 cup peanut butter
2 mashed bananas (bah. nah. nah... you have to see Despicable Me 2)
drizzle maple syrup
1 egg
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350°.  Mix all ingredients with a fork.  With your hand. Use whatever works.  Drop by spoonful onto baking sheet (I use a baking stone.) Bake approx. 15 mins. 

They're not a decadent melt in your mouth dessert cookie. They're not even pretty to look at... but for a quick breakfast cookie or healthy snack to win you brownie points, they do the trick.  You might just earn the moniker "Best Mom in the World."

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Fizzles, Fist Fights, & Free Time

Last night I must have known that today would start with a fizzle.  After the post-dinner catastophic clean up, I actually started prepping the monkeys' lunches.  Even with our early start school (thumbs down!), I tend to toss their lunches together in the morning.  We have our rhythm and usually, our get-out-the-door routine progress as planned.

Not so much today.  My alarm turned itself off.  Seriously!   It's not like I forgot to set it before bed.  I would never do that.  I did wake up to my internal alarm, but the morning was a fog of ineptness.   And the kids would not stop fighting over who got to wear which shirt... you know, those pink ones we're wearing to stand against bullying?  (My guys may very well have gone to school sporting blood stains due to the fists that we're being thrown.  It seems we entirely missed the point of Pink Shirt Day.)

We finally got our, uh, "stuff" together and made it to school just before the bell.  And now I'm feeling a little lost.  It's just 9 a.m. and I'm sitting at home enjoying some me time.  Unexpected, unscheduled me time.

I was bribed for it.  I spend a lot of time at the school these days.  Yesterday I  manned the breakfast program on my own (hello, dishes!) in exchange for this morning and tomorrow morning to myself.

What's a girl to do?  Run the dishwasher before noon.  Check. Fasting lab work...that was months overdue.  Check.  Grab some Timmies.  Check.  Now I sit here feeling guilty about my lack of productivity.  But you know what?  I earned a couple free hours and I think Ill just enjoy it!  (Especially after the gong show that started this day.)  Soon enough I'll be surrounded by the chaos of three grade 1 &2 classes "enjoying" another indoor recess.   So here's to a good book, warm drink, and absolute silence while I can.   If only the snow were melting,  it might just be perfect!

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Almost a grown up...

There are days when I'm dumbstruck at how grown up my oldest monkey has become.  I look at him with wonder and awe intermingled with a little bit of sadness remembering when he used to need me for things - almost everything in fact.  He's eight years old.  Almost a grown up, according to him.  Halfway to a driver's license to put it in perspective. He hasn't needed my help with dressing, brushing his teeth, or getting his things gathered for school for quite some time.  He can get his own snacks, feed the dog, load & unload the dishwasher, and find a quiet spot to read all on his own.  He helps with chores, plays creatively, and has astounding logic that you can't argue with at all.  He's almost a grown up...

I've noticed his independence developing with little things - increased modesty, bathing on his own (even the shampoo!), not acknowledging me at school, even in how he interacts with Justin.  He wants hugs before bed, but he doesn't want to be tucked in.  "I'll tuck myself in, Mommy." I know this is all par for the course as a parent.  I know our kids do get older, and change, and become their own person.  But in all honesty, there are days when I feel like it's taken me by surprise.  The kid knows how to Google and use YouTube, for Pete's sake! (I shudder at this and want to put super filters and kid-safe software on the computer.)  He's almost a grown up...

This morning I woke up at my regular time and began our regular routine.  I passed him in the dark hallway and stated our regular dialogue.  "Time to get dressed.  What do you want for breakfast?"  To which he replied, "I am dressed, Mommy.  I already ate and now I'm going to brush my teeth."   What???? I hadn't even showered yet and he got himself breakfast?!  He then proceeded through the rest of his morning to-do list with plenty of time to spare and no nagging on my part.  Sweet.  He's almost a grown up...

I volunteered in his class today.  He makes me proud.  He doesn't interrupt.  He listens intently.  He asks questions when he isn't sure about something.  He's helpful with his classmates.  He's respectful and kind.  I left as the class was getting ready for morning recess.  I told him I'd be back at lunch and he could come say "hi" on the yard.  His response:  "Maybe.  I have other things to do at lunch."  Okay then.  He's almost a grown up...

I look at the smile that lights up his face when he gets off the bus in the afternoon.  I observe his pride when he finally gets that difficult homework problem we've been tackling.  I see him save his money and weigh his choices when it comes to spending it.  I watch, bemused, as he sets about his chores and gives just the slightest bit of attitude and a rolling of the eyes.  I glimpse the young man he's becoming, no longer my baby or little boy.  A child that isn't so childish.  He's almost a grown up...

I still get my hugs from this almost-a-grown-up at the end of each day.  More than one, in fact (he likes to procrastinate at bedtime.)  I hope that no matter how independent he becomes, how much he changes, how much he grows, he'll always know that I'm proud of him, that I love him unconditionally, that his hugs mean the world to me.  I hope he remembers that no matter how far he goes, no matter what he does or who he becomes, there will always be a place in my heart where he'll still be my baby.  He's almost a grown up... but I think deep down, in the face of the person he is growing into, I'll always see a shadow of the little boy he's been.