I'm Afraid Of Dying. And Cockroaches.

I love blogging, partly because writing and posting - and vlogging - makes me think.  It makes me reflect on things that I might otherwise blithly smile and nod at before moving on.  This week, Lee Reyes-Fournier from Couple Dumb has a great question for our #VlogMom prompt.


Name your three fears...

And so I did.  It took a lot of reflection, because I'm generally not a fearful person - the creaking noises I head downstairs as I was changing for bed last Friday when my husband wasn't home at 11:30pm the exception that proves the rule, of course.

My fears?  They're pretty irrational.  But thinking more about it, isn't that what fears are?  So take a look, and then tell me what you're afraid of!

Oh, and excuse the way I look this time?  I haven't slept well all week (yay headaches that won't go away).

Childhood Traditions: We Climb Trees

Fall has arrived, as I admitted to myself on Monday.  The days are still decent though - the chill of Chicago winters has yet to arrive, thankfully - and we're spending as much time as possible outside.  The wee ones love to ride their bikes and go for walks with us and more.

Each morning as we wait for the bus to arrive, Little Miss immediately runs for the tree in our front yard and scales it.  She's my monkey, my athlete, my gymnast, my strong little girl who has no fear.  Mister Man has always held back.  As much as he wants to climb the tree, he can't.

I've been convinced for a long time that his "can't" is more a "won't" than anything else.  I know that he lacks core strength and that his coordination isn't the same as other kids' abilities, thank you autism, but we've been working at it, and I'm seeing a difference in a lot of things from his ability to now do a pushup when he really wants to the ability to do a bridge up (trust me, this is incredibly difficult if you have low core and shoulder strength).

He will run to the tree and grab the climbing brand and his feet will peddle uselessly against the trunk, unable to gain enough purchase to stay.  He quickly drops back down, unable to use his arms and shoulders to lever himself up and over that branch.  He's been frustrated by it, not just because of his failure to climb, but because his almost two years younger sister has been climbing this tree for two plus years now.

I love that he never gives up.

And last weekend, he asked for my help for the first time in a long time.  I explained again that he needs to bend his elbows so that he has a chance to use his strength to pull himself up.  He has a tendency to not realize what his arms and body can do and what they are doing, so he will hand walk his hands further up the tree, never bending his arms and pulling his body towards the tree, not realizing that this tactic is doomed to failure.

Nodding, he grabbed the branch and used his feet to get his body horizontal.  With my hands touching and supporting him - letting him know I was there were he to fall, but not pushing him at all - he remembered to bend his arms when I pointed it out.  And he pulled himself into the tree for the first time.  You have no idea how bright that smile was.

I helped him down after awhile, and he practiced it another few times, the last couple without my help to prove to him that he really was doing it all on his own.  And then he stayed up there to read a book, finding the most comfortable branch to hang out on.

He now runs to that tree each time we have a few spare minutes and scampers up it.  Or tries.  He was shocked the other morning after it had rained that the tree was too slippery to climb.  And I watch him struggle into that tree, knowing that he can do it and that he's figuring out that he needs to have faith in himself to accomplish more than he ever dreamed.

And that?  That right there is all I want from him in life.  Happy, challenged, with faith in himself.  It isn't a big dream, but it's the one I have for my children.  What is your dream for your child?

Peach Blueberry Crisp - Tasty Tuesday!

Mister Man and my husband had their first Cub Scout den meeting of the year last night.  They headed out for Mister Man's occupational therapy then straight to the meeting... at a pizza restaurant.  Little Miss and I were left at home to fend for ourselves.

You know that means we have to do something special, right?  Our local sushi restaurant is closed on Mondays, so that was out.  We decided to make something special for dessert.  She first tried to explain a muffin that had chocolate on top and jam in the center.  I couldn't figure it out until it finally dawned on me that she was talking about my cherry bliss bites.  The only problem?  I can't really make them dairy free for her.

Her next idea was a crisp, which I readily agreed sounded delicious.  I had peaches that needed to be used, so we decided to make a peach crisp - and while I can and did make this dairy free, the recipe I'm sharing is with butter instead.  To make it dairy free with a yummy and surprising twist, sub out mayonnaise for the butter.  Trust me on that one.

While I had peaches, I didn't have quite enough to fill the dish.  I augmented with frozen blueberries, and oh was that a good choice.  Each time I make something with this combination, blueberry and peach goes together far better than I think it will.

Yes, this is my dish.  Obviously.  It's topped with whipped cream.  Yum.

Peach Blueberry Crisp

Ingredients:
5 peaches, cut into ten to twelve slices, then cut in half vertically to make bit size pieces (enough for 3-4 cups)
2 cups blueberries
1/4 plus 2 T cornstarch
1 t nutmeg, freshly grated
3/4 c flour
1 c oats
2/3 c brown sugar
1 t cinnamon
1 t salt
1/3 c butter, melted

Directions:
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Place the cut peaches and blueberries into a baking dish.  I used a smaller casserole that once belonged to my grandmother - talk about the ultimate comfort food!  You can leave the skins on or remove them.  I like to keep them on when I'm using fresh peaches, but frozen or jarred peaches usually have them removed, and that's fine.  And yes, you can use frozen or jarred (good jarred, please) when peaches aren't in season.

Place the cornstarch and 1/2 t nutmeg atop the fruit, and gently stir until it is all mixed together.

In another bowl, add the flour, brown sugar, oats, cinnamon, salt, and the rest of the nutmeg.  Stir to fully combine.  Add the melted butter and mix with a spatula until it comes together and creates pea or so size chunks.  You don't want to overstir, but ensure you get all the flour and sugar incorporated.

Carefully pour the topping over the fruit.  Use the spatula to ensure all the fruit is hidden by the topping without pushing it down into the fruit.

Place the crisp into the oven, and bake for 35 minutes, until the top is a beautiful golden brown.  Little Miss and I debated making individual servings in ramekins or a larger crisp.  We decided on the larger crisp, but if you make ramekins, bake them for 25 minutes instead.

Serve with ice cream or whipped cream while still warm.  Or let it cool off and enjoy it at room temperature for breakfast the next day.  Not that I or my husband would ever do that.  Ahem.

Enjoy this and more with Blessed With Grace and Tempt My Tummy Tuesday.  Rachel from A Southern Fairytale has an awesome Mouthwatering Monday linkup that I participate in, too.

Summer Is Over

So it dawned on me this morning.  Summer is officially over.

This was the first weekend where we had some free time that we didn't spend at the pool.  Although the wee ones have been in school going on four weeks now, I was still taking them to the pool some weeknights after they'd finished homework.

Last Monday, the pool closed.  We actually closed it down, which was bittersweet.  By 5pm, the lifeguards had started to remove the trash cans from around the pool area.  The ice cream and other foods that  they couldn't store went on sale for $1 apiece.  And by 6pm when the pool closed, the only chairs not stacked up and removed were the ones where we and a few other die hards stored our towels and gear.

On Saturday, I attended my first Northwestern home game of the year.  It was a 7pm game, so we knew it would be chillier than our normal first games, and it was - especially once it started raining at 9:45.  I stuck it out until the clock hit :00  I was ready for football.  And I can even give you proof.

For some reason, it still didn't sink in that summer was really over until Little Miss came downstairs voluntarily wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt.  Wait, what?

Don't ask me why, but that's what sealed it for me that summer is truly over.  I have my windows open, letting the fresh air in.  And at 11:30, I don't need to close them because it's so humid outside or it's too hot.  I'm enjoying the fresh air while I'm wearing my own jeans and long sleeve shirt.

I like fall.  I enjoy football and the smell of burning leaves and even the cooler weather.  It's the change and the feeling of loss of summer that wrenches my heart just a little bit.  Summer speaks to me of freedom and joy and discovery.  And I miss that.

So how about you?  Has it sunk in that summer is over (for those of you with children NOT in school thanks to the teacher strike, don't answer that and I apologize in advance)?  What are you most looking forward to this fall?

I Was Not A Good Mom This Morning

I'll fully admit that I was not a good mom this morning. That said, I could have been much worse. I didn't yell. I didn't touch a child. There were no emotional or physical scars left. But I'm still angry and irritated - albeit perhaps somewhat irrationally so, as the wee ones are only 7 and 8. But... it's reality.

And this?  This was the breakfast table at 8:30 after the wee ones had boarded the bus for school.  On the plus side, I didn't have to make myself breakfast because there was plenty sitting right here.

 I didn't get a full night's sleep because I woke up from an utterly bizarre dream at 4am. That isn't an excuse, but I know myself, and I get crabby when I don't have sufficient sleep. Compounded with things that don't go as they could, my temper can flare, and getting the wee ones ready for the bus has been a struggle all week.

 At 7:10 this morning - an hour and ten minutes before their bus was scheduled to arrive to pick them up for school - I headed into Mister Man's room, where I found both the wee ones in their pjs, quietly playing. As they spotted me, the whining began that they hadn't had enough time to play. I'm used to it. I get the same whining every morning, no matter what. But, Mooooom, Mister Man whined in his best two year old voice, I was just about to start a game.  Sorry, Kiddo.  It's time for school, so I need you to get dressed.

Little Miss began picking up her Puffles and gave me a hug before heading to her room to change.  Mister Man chose to crawl under his covers to hide.  I explained that I wasn't playing that game and they needed to get dressed and come down for breakfast just like they have done for the past six years. (My emphasis now, not then.)  I got breakfast orders and headed downstairs to make breakfasts and lunches for everyone except me.

I didn't hear noises that sounded like anyone getting dressed.  In fact, the noises sounded like Star Wars Fighter Pods being connected and unconnected.  I sighed and continued on my way, deciding that maybe today was the day for natural consequences.  If they weren't down by the time I finished with breakfasts and lunches and was ready to head upstairs to get myself dressed, I would send them down and they could eat what they got to by 8am - still leaving them nearly a half hour to eat.

As I boiled water in a kettle to help keep the Thermos warm for the honey chicken Mister Man was getting in his lunch, I heard a new noise, one that included giggling.  The wee ones were not coming down to breakfast - which was now sitting on the kitchen table getting warm (for Mister Man) and cold (for Little Miss) - but instead were playing with the nightlight in the hallway, changing its colors.  My blood pressure started to rise.

By the time I finished with lunches and set the lunches and snacks for school on the steps for them to pack into backpacks, there was still nary a child in sight, although I had explained that breakfast was ready and sitting on the table.  I climbed the stairs to find the wee ones wrestling in the hallway, presumably over control of the nightlight, atop the sheets I had just washed and folded but not yet put away.  They decided to go eat breakfast.

While I was getting dressed, the wee ones called to me.  Meow - who is not allowed near the table when anyone is eating because I don't like begging, nor do I want to encourage him to think people food is his food and yes, everyone in the house knows the rule - had managed to knock Little Miss's milk over with his tail.  I closed my eyes and continued getting dressed, deciding benign neglect at this point was better than blowing my top.

By the time I finished getting dressed - note, no makeup or hair or even teeth brushed for me yet, as that happens after the wee ones are off to school - and headed downstairs, I was doing deep breathing exercises.  It was now 8am, and I had milk to clean up.  Mister Man was sitting at the table reading a magazine (another no-no) and hadn't touched his breakfast.  Neither child had socks on.  Mister Man didn't have his glasses.

I reiterated what still needed to be done: lunches and snacks into backpacks, breakfasts eaten, vitamins taken, teeth brushed, socks on, glasses on, shoes on.  Oh, and that they didn't have much time left.  Little Miss - knowing this wasn't going to end well - quickly got up and put her dishes away and headed on to her next tasks.  Mister Man gave the verbal agreement and continued with his magazine.

When the bus pulled into our driveway at 8:20am, Little Miss was ready... except for her unbrushed hair.  She managed to escape out the door before I could catch her and so now is at school looking like she has a pet rat who sleeps in her hair.  Mister Man had to be sent upstairs while the bus waited (thank goodness this isn't the regular bus that waits for no one) for his glasses.  And socks.  And I'm pretty sure his reading log never got filled out.

And they were off to school.  I'm still angry that the cat was apparently on the kitchen table and knocked over milk.  And that Mister Man chose to read a magazine at the table instead of eating his breakfast.  And that they were wrestling on my clean sheets.  And that they were playing instead of getting ready for school as they'd been asked to do and as they know they have to do every morning.  And that Mister Man was throwing attitude at me about getting ready - from the time I explained that he needed to get dressed until the time he stomped back down the stairs with his glasses and socks.

But I didn't yell.  I didn't threaten them with anything.  I didn't say anything mean to them.  And obviously I didn't physically touch them.  That feels like such a hollow victory.

I'm not sure why getting ready has been so difficult this week.  I'm not sure if it's the "extra time" we now have since the bus comes 20 minutes later than the time we used have to get out the door.  I'm not sure if they simply need more sleep.  I'm really not sure what it is.  Yesterday, I resorted to spoon feeding Mister Man his breakfast like he was a baby because he was taking so long.  He didn't like it.  Neither did I.  Today I went a different route of benign neglect that still wasn't being the good mom I want to be.

So on Monday, we're going to try something different.  This weekend, I'm going to sit down with them and explain what I was unhappy with and why today.  And we're going to talk about what needs to happen at what time.  Both the wee ones have small whiteboards, and I'm going to use them as checklists for the wee ones because I can't keep reminding them to move move move every five minutes.  I'll leave them outside their rooms at night, and they can carry them with them as they get ready in the morning.

Something has to change.  And as the parent, it has to be me.  I will raise independent and responsible children one way or the other.  How do you ensure that you get everyone out the door in the morning?

How Are You Improving Your Quality Of Life?

With back to school upon us, it seems like September is the "new January" when it comes to reflection and making life changes.  I was listening to the radio today where the djs were talking about how September is update your resume month and college savings month (eep!) and self improvement month and more.

So it's really appropriate that the #VlogMom prompt this week from Jessica McFadden of A Parent in America is:

What are you doing differently this school year to improve your family's quality of life?

So tell me... what are you doing?  I obviously need some tips!

Baked Kale Chips - Tasty Tuesday!

It's summer, so there is a ton of fresh produce.  Fortunately, I've finished up all the ginormous zucchini that my friend kept foisting on me.  There are other veggies still in my house, however.  Last week, I attended the Chicago Food Swap, and I came home with a ton of great goodies.  Although the honey hot fudge and butterscotch and salted caramel sauces weren't the most healthy, nor was the jam I picked up or the organic butter, I did come home with some awesome healthy treats, too, including dill pickles (two kinds!) and two gorgeous bunches of kale.

Yum.

I love kale.  I know I'm somewhat in the minority on this one, though, so I get creative with how I use it so others in my family will eat it, too.  Yesterday, I attended a barbecue at a friend's house and used up the last of the kale making baked kale chips.  My beautiful bowl of crunchy goodness disappeared faster than I'd hoped it would.  Even the kids liked it.

Yes.  Kids.  Liked.  Green.  Vegetables.  Go figure.

Baked Kale Chips

Ingredients:
1 bunch kale (any variety works)
1 T olive oil
1 t salt

Directions:
Remove the stems from your kale.  They are tough and don't cook at the same rate as the leaves.  I sometimes keep them and grill them (another recipe), but in this case, I just tossed them.  The easiest way to do this is to run a sharp knife along the edge of the stem on either side of where it branches off into leaf to remove it.

Clean your kale.  I like to wash it a little then tear the leaves into slightly larger than chip size pieces.  This is not at all an exact science.  My salad spinner comes in handy at this point where I can spin them pretty dry, as you don't want to bake them when wet.

Once your kale is dry, place it into a bowl and drizzle the olive oil over it.  Use your fingers to "toss" the kale to ensure that all the leaves are equally coated with the olive oil.  This is what helps to get them really crispy.  Place them on a cookie sheet - I put my sil pat on it - in a single layer.  My one bunch of kale usually requires two cookie sheets.  Sprinkle the kale with salt, being sure you don't use too much.  The kale will shrink when baking, so it becomes more intense.

Bake in a preheated 275 degree oven for twenty to twenty-five minutes.  You can flip them halfway through to help them get crispy on all sides.  If you use the curly kale like I did, you often don't have to do this because they curl up on their own and expose all sides to the heat.  When they are just starting to brown, they are done.  Remove them from the oven and serve the same day.

Crunch crunch yum!

Enjoy this and more with Blessed With Grace and Tempt My Tummy Tuesday.  Rachel from A Southern Fairytale has an awesome Mouthwatering Monday linkup that I participate in, too.