Mother's Day

Every time I pull out my powerdrill to fix something, I think of my Grandma Coons who taught me that power tools are for girls, and that if it needs fixin' there's no reason a boy can fix it better. Every time I power up the saw in my garage, the smell of sawdust takes me back to her woodshop and I am guiding a block of wood through the blade with Grandma standing beside me reminding me to keep my fingers safe.

Every time I fold up a piece of aluminum foil to reuse later, or rinse out an empty sour cream container to save for storing leftovers, I remember my Grandma Eldredge doing the same thing while cleaning up the kitchen after a holiday dinner, recycling when it was called "frugality" instead of "earth friendliness." I smell that smell that was distinctly Grandma Eldredge, and feel the texture of her red polyester dress, and see the way she moved around the kitchen, and I am happy that she is with me in my own kitchen.

Everytime I hug the love of my life, I'm hugging the product of the wonderful woman who raised him and who welcomed me wholeheartedly into her family 17 years ago.

And every time I make cookies with my girls, push the pedal on the sewing machine while they guide the fabric through, go on a field trip to watch them interact with their classmates, teach them to clean the bathroom floor the right way (instead of just "pushing dirt around" or "making mud"), show them the difference between seedlings and weeds, sort raspberries for raspberry jam, or wrangle their Girl Scout troop through yet another badge meeting, I channel my mom, who did all of these things and so much more, teaching me through her love and laughter how much fun it is to be a mom.

Thanks to all the moms in my life. Especially my own. Mom, I love you and thank you for all the love, lessons, and sacrifices you made for me. But more than anything I thank you for teaching me how to be a mom.

Confucious say

"Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life."

I am half way through my senior practicum at Seattle Children's Hospital, and despite being completely perplexed about when to sleep and eat, I am absolutely in love with my "job." I've been working twelve hour night shifts twice a week with my nurse preceptor. Last night, for the first time, the all-nighter did not kick my butt. I'm sure that was because I managed a full 6 hours of sleep during the day yesterday thanks to my new friend, Ambien, and my favorite person, Kolby, who worked from home to make sure Gabby did not bark and wake me up. I've heard enough Ambien stories to know that all it would take was an ill-timed barking episode from Gabby and I'd be mowing the lawn in my underroos.

I'm sure that Kolby is tired of hearing me say "I love this so much!" But I do. My senior practicum has been an amazing experience. I adore these little patients. I love their families. I love going into work and learning something new every second that I am there. I make a list of goals for each shift, knowing full well that none of them may be achieved since I have no idea who my patients will be until I arrive at the hospital. And yet most of the time I've been able to achieve them. I've had an ongoing long-term objective to practice a list of skills I've either not done IRL (that's in-real-life for ya'll not in the know on language the kids are using now'a'days) or skills I haven't had much practice with (or completely messed up when I have). When I made this list, I thought I would be happy to check off three or four of these skills by the end of my practicum. I have checked off all but one of those skills in the last three weeks, and I've added several new skills to the list (by watching other nurses do them) that I didn't know I could do. Lab draws, tube feedings, suctioning, inserting tubes thru noses, inserting urinary catheters (TMI? Ha! I'm full of internet acronyms today!), and just the opportunity to frequently assess little people who would rather do 100 other things than let me listen to their hearts and lungs. Every patient is a new challenge, and every shift I feel like I'm improving my assessment, critical thinking, and psychomotor skills.

None of this has improved my blogging skills though. Over a month since my last post? Sorry 'bout that.

A very long post about a sandwich

Here's the thing: our life is pretty boring. My kids aren't tiny and precocious anymore, doing adorable things like cuddling with life-size Justin Biebers or sharing a PB&J with our Great Dane (which we don't have). So I'm running out of material. I go to school. They go to school. Kolby goes to work. In between we clean the house and go to movies and run kids to activities and fold lots of laundry. And cuddle with the cats, which I could write an entire blog about. And maybe I will. Actually, no maybe about it: I'm starting one tomorrow.

But the one constant thrill in my life, besides the cats, is food. I love food, and I love feeding my family. It is always the first thing that pops into my brain when I get my new schedule for the quarter, "Oh no! How will I feed my family?" Having a healthy, yummy, hot dinner on the table has always given me a sense of happiness and accomplishment. It's primal. Or Mormon. Or both. But it courses through my blood.

So, ya'll might be getting a lot of food posts in the next few weeks because, as of tomorrow night at 11pm, I'm on break and I have time to cook/bake. And I like food. And my kids are no longer as entertaining as my preschool and toddler-aged nieces and nephews. (I wish my sister Jodi wasn't such an OCD paranoid because ya'll would die laughing at her 4 year-old's obsession with Bieber.) (And now you are wondering what her OCD paranoia has to do with Bieber Fever, aren't you? She's "gone private" which is blog speak for "you can't read my blog unless you've passed a background check and forwarded me the last three months of your internet history.")

(Any of ya'll pedderphiles who pop in to see if I've posted pics of my kids in their spanky pants can just tune out now. Not today. But you're welcome to stick around for my recipe for Italian subs.)

(And any of ya'll grammarphiles who are cringing at the improper and excessive use of parentheses and conjunctions can just find something else to read. And eat).

Sandwich Night is a longstanding tradition in our household. Our go-to weekend evening meal since around the time Mia was born is a baguette with a yummy cheese, proscuitto (fancy bacon), and roasted red peppers. We have a lot of variations on this theme, and we have more labor intensive choices. But any way you stack it (hahahaha) Sandwich Night totally rules.

Several weeks ago we went skiing and the typical ski-grub (chili-cheese fries and nachos) was not offered, much to our children's deep despair. I think the ski grub might be 70% of their motivation for skiing. So without the favorites on the menu, Kolby ordered an Italian sub, and the variation we've come up with in the weekends since has raised the Italian Sub to official King of Sandwich Night.

Behold his beauty:

Here are the simple steps.

• Go to the store.
• Buy a baguette, or some mini-baguettes. You want bread that is chewy because the exterior of typical french bread will crumble and make a mess of your shirt while you eat. And if you happen to be wearing a v-neck shirt, and you are the sort who wears a bra, your bra will be full of crumbs. Not that I know this from experience. You need chewy--almost the exterior texture of a bagel. I buy mini-baguettes.
• Go to the deli counter at your grocery store and buy sliced salami, ham, pepperoni, and provolone. I get 1/2 pound each of salami, pepperoni, and provolone, and a pound of ham. This feeds us for dinner one night and lunch the next day, with some leftover for eggs and lunches. If you haven't had salami in your scrambled eggs I am so very jealous of the new experience you have in your future. It will change your life.
• A couple more things you'll need: pepperoncinis, peppadews, and sliced black olives. The pepperoncinis you can find by the pickles. Don't be afraid to buy the whole bottle. I have another recipe in your future. The peppadews are in the deli section at my grocery store.
• Do not forget the peppadews. This is what they look like:

They are about the size of the top half of your thumb, and they take the sandwich from great to AMAZING.

• The second rule of Sandwich Night (I'm not sure what the first rule is.) DO NOT LEAVE OUT THE PEPPADEWS. Seriously, don't.
• Now go home.
• And then assemble like this (meats and cheeses only, and don't be stingy with that provolone. It's not getting any younger. Haha.):

(See that French bun on the right? In my experience with various breads, I may or may not have learned first-hand that the French Buns are much more aggressive crumbers than their French Baguette brothers.)

• Now after you've admired those beauties, wrap them up in aluminum foil and bake them at 350 for maybe 15 minutes. Or 20. Until the cheese is all melty and everything is warm. During the last 10 minutes you could even throw in a pan of kale chips to bake at the same time.
• Slice up those peppadews and set out the peppers and olives. You can snitch a few while you wait.

After they are finished getting warm and melty, pile on the peppers and olives. The kids like theirs without peppers and with warmed marinara sauce for dipping. Those of us with more sophisticated palates will not need the dipping sauce because the peppadews absolutely make the sandwich. Although now I'm kind of thinking ranch dressing could be pretty amazing as a dipping sauce too. Amazing and yet sophisticated. This is a constant work in progress.

There you go. You are so very welcome.

Wah Wah.

We've all been hit with the plague. Okay, not really the plague. Just a really unenjoyable cold that's managed to work its way through our family.

I saw this video yesterday and it made me wish I had a baby around to scare with all the nose blowing I've been doing.

Kale is the new Black

It might be just a fad, but right now kale is as cool as it gets when it comes to vegetables. I had it for the first time about two years ago at a friend's house, and it's now in our produce drawer at all times. When I went to Islandwood (outdoor school) with Maddie a couple weeks ago they had a ton of it growing in their kitchen garden. I'm planning to plant some in our garden this summer because kale will grow all winter in this climate, even surviving some snow and freezing.

Here are three of my favorite ways to eat it.

Kale Chips

Cut off the center rib. Toss with olive oil and kosher salt. Bake at 350 for about 10-12 minutes until edges start to brown and leaves are crispy. (Don't cook too long! They go from cooked to overcooked quickly). These are delicious as is (kind of like potato chips), or yummy dipped in ranch. The kids ate an entire pan of these in about 5 minutes this morning.

PB, Banana, and Kale Smoothie

I am seriously obsessed with my peanut butter and banana smoothie. I have had it almost every day, sometimes twice a day, for the last year. I actually emailed the owner of the condo we rented in Maui to make sure they had a blender because I didn't want to be without my smoothie on vacation. It was hard enough to be away from my cats on vacation. Leaving my smoothie behind would have been too much. Every house guest who stays with us gets one of these at breakfast. Kolby gets my smoothie update every day. "My smoothie was so good this morning. Must've been an exceptionally good banana or something." I don't mean to talk about it as much as I do, but it's totally a highlight of every day for me. And when Kolby works late or is out of town I'm a little bit happy because it means I can have it for dinner too. And this isn't one of those 700 calorie smoothies. I think it ends up being about 250-300 calories, so it's guilt free. So what does this have to do with kale? I started sneaking spinach into it, a couple leaves at a time, last fall and found that I could add a whole handful of spinach without changing the flavor. Then I attempted kale, and I wasn't sure it would work because kale has a much stronger flavor. But I can. I usually do one side of a large leaf (rib removed). Make sure you blend it really well or you'll get little bits of kale in your teeth.

1 ripe banana

2-3 ice cubes

1 tablespoon of peanut butter

About 3/4 cup of vanilla soy milk (add to desired consistency)

1/2 large kale leaf or handful of baby spinach

The girls both love this smoothie, but I'll also add kale or spinach to their berry smoothies and they don't mind. You can actually sneak more kale into the berry smoothies because the berries better disguise the vegginess.

Raw Tuscan Kale salad

This is the salad I had when I first tried kale. It's still one of my favorites. Kale doesn't wilt easily, so you make this salad ahead of time--maybe an hour before eating it so the salad dressing soaks into the leaves a bit. And then you can eat the leftovers for a few days and it just gets better. Kolby says he feels a little bit like a rabbit eating this one, but I can't get enough of it. The recipe is here. I do not discriminate against any kind of kale. Sometimes I can only find one kind at the store. Last time I went they had three kinds. Tuscan kale has larger, less lacy leaves than some of the others I usually find.

Hunt and Peck

I like to think that when I get older I'm not going to be that person who is resistant to technological change. But given the amount of cursing that's accompanied an update to the look of this blog, I'm now doubting that. You don't need the long drawn out story. Just know that a simple background change took hours and it's not happening again for a very long time.

And on that same line of thought, I lost a year this week. Amelia was asking me how old I was and I told her 34. But then I did the math. It seems I've been 34 years old for the last 18 months. When did I turn 35?

Musings on Mornings

This morning Amelia was telling me that she was the first in line at the classroom door yesterday morning (which is important to her because she likes being early and hates being late). She asked, "Did you push us off to school yesterday or did Dad?" I love that she sees it that way--we're pushing them out the door to school.

And actually, that used to be the case. But recently Kolby taught me a good parenting lesson. After I complained that the girls had been late to school three times in one week, he pointed out that on mornings when I get them off to school I'm constantly reminding the kids what they should be doing and yelling at them for getting off track while I'm making lunches and breakfast for them. On mornings when he gets them off to school he rolls out of bed around 8:00 and they are already up and dressed. While he's showering and getting ready for work they're doing their hair or making their own breakfast. Amelia gets Maddie back on track if Maddie starts doing origami or playing with the cats, and they are usually out the door early. But apparently, if I'm home reminding them what they should be doing, they don't feel the need to take responsibility for themselves.

So I tried the Kolby Method. I got up and poured my coffee and sat down to check my email and guess what? The kids got themselves ready for school. They made their own breakfast and loaded their dishes in the dishwasher. They remembered a snack. And they were out the door on time. And although this did cause me quite a bit of anxiety the first day to just trust that they'd do what they were supposed to do without me telling them, now I love it. Mornings are so much less stressful for all of us without me constantly hollering out the time to them and asking them "What should you be doing right now?!"

Maddie put her hair up in a clip

Amelia made herself a breakfast burrito

and then supervised Madeline's egg-cracking

Madeline prefers a fried egg

and she can flip it without even breaking the yolk.

This does not mean that some mornings don't go badly. A couple weeks ago while I was at school they all overslept. (Usually Amelia wakes up on her own at 7:30 and makes sure everyone else is out of bed by 8:00). But Kolby woke up at 8:15, and got the girls up and they rushed through their morning routine and were all out the door by 8:45. Amelia thanked him about 10 times for waking her up. Kolby and I were so glad this happened, because I imagine she feels a bit of stress in the morning making sure that she and Maddie get up and out the door on time, so it probably took the pressure off to realize that Kolby was there as a reliable back-up.

When I was in 5th grade I used to forget my lunch and flute all the time, and I was forever calling my mom to bring it to school for me. (Although I do remember the crackdown when she said she wasn't doing it anymore.) Well, one of the sacrifices we've had to make with me being in school is that there is nobody here to run a violin or school project to the kids if they forget it. They are definitely more responsible as a result, but there are still days when they forget. Last week I happened to be home on a morning when Maddie forgot her violin. I had walked with them to school that morning, so I told her I'd run home and bring it to her. She was so thankful to have been bailed out this once. I got three hugs and "thank yous" for it, which of course made me feel guilty that I'm not home to do it all the time. But if I was home, she would probably be less responsible and we'd be at the same crackdown point my mom reached with me.

Anyway. My kids are getting big. It's amazing what great human beings they are turning into when I get out of their way.