Margaret Wise Brown's Goodnight Moon, by Stages Theatre Company

When my two oldest boys were younger, our local symphony performed Green Eggs and Ham (to music, of course); it was their first symphony experience, and it was a hit.  We’re lucky to live in a community where these kinds of events aren’t hard to find.  The symphony has also done Peter and the Wolf and various other adaptations.  In the summer, they play outside at the empty ski hill, so families (or romantic couples) can enjoy an evening of their melodies under the stars.  It's a perfect, easy introduction to the symphony for kids, and a wonderful evening out for grown-ups.

Recently, the very friendly Kristin Gast, from the PR firm Tunheim Partners, invited my family to attend a musical adaptation of Margaret Wise Brown's Goodnight Moon by Stages Theatre Company.  I’m certain she was hoping for some free publicity for the gig in exchange.  Alas, it is too far away and our schedules are too tight.  We won’t be able to attend.  However, Ms. Gast is in luck!  She was correct in guessing that this type of thing is right up my alley, so I’m going to tell you all about it anyway because I'm nice that way.  And if I could get my kids there, I would.

If you can get your kids there, I encourage you to go and enjoy a Wii-free night with your family.

Details:  You’re invited to a special performance.

What:   Goodnight Moon performed by Stages Theatre Company

Where:   Hopkins, MN

When:   Beginning this Friday, January 16 – Sunday, February 15

How Much:    $15 – adults; $11 – kids and seniors

More Info:   Visit the Stages Theatre Company website or call them at 952-979-1111.

And A Tidy New Year: Cleaning Up After Christmas

In the early years of our marriage, we had a conversation that went something like this:

Spouse #1:  Honey, why do you always put your work clothes on that chair in our room?  It’s only few more steps to the hamper.  Can’t you get them to the hamper?

Spouse #2:  Ummmm, ummmmm, I don’t know, I guess so.

This conversation isn’t unusual, I know.  It plays out all over the world on a weekly basis.  The twist here is that I’m the guilty party.  My husband, the neat freak, is Spouse #1.  It’s sad, but true.  I’m the one who leaves socks on the bedroom floor, stacks piles of papers on her desk, and has to try really, really hard to remember to make the bed.  (I’m usually the last one out.)

So you can imagine that if left to my own devices we might put the ornaments away around the 4^th of July, along with the plastic Easter eggs.  Naturally, since I am married to a neat freak, this isn’t how it happens. 

This year—as you may remember—we drove long and far to visit our families for the holidays.  We left our house in the wee hours of December 26, which means that we left a decorated tree and all of the Christmas loot at home, along with a few cookies on the counter for a science experiment.  We're always thinking about our kids' educations, you know?  When we returned from our lengthy trip with bags full of dirty laundry and a trunk full of new toys, the only thing I really wanted was a long, hot shower.  Alas, it wasn’t to be.  My neat and tidy husband had other ideas.  

“Let’s get everything into the house,” he said, “and then get the ornaments and decorations put away, so we can take down the tree.” 

“Huh?” I said, startled by his ambition.  “Huh,” I repeated, still thinking “hot shower, hot shower, hot shower."

And so we begin.  And most years, even if we stay home, it’s the same.  Choose the day and get it done:  Ornaments off the tree and into the big box.  Lights down, wrapped around some wire thing my husband rigged up to keep them neat, and into the light box.  Tree out the door to the park that recycles them (this is his job).  Decorations off of the mantle and into the decoration boxes (this is mine).  And on it goes.  While the decoration day is a festive affair with music and snacks and holiday joy, the take-it-all-down day is just business.  Get it done.

And I must admit that I’m glad my husband is wired this way.  Because, in the end, I love being neat and tidy, too.  I just wouldn’t get there by myself.

This post was written for Parent Blogger Network's blog blast.  They recommend checking out SC Johnson's Right@Home Website, for lots of helpful home care articles.  For a chance to win a $250 Visa gift card, join the blog blast--the deadline is tonight.  See the rules, here.

Snow or No Snow?

See what I think about it over at Midwest Parents today.

The New Year

Through the many that we've known each other, my husband and I have celebrated in myriad ways.

There were the those years, closer to the dark ages, when we attended some sort of fancy dinner and dance and rang in the New Year with a swig of champagne and a smoldering kiss.  Please don't dwell on the dress. I borrowed it from a friend and, at the time, thought it looked swell.  Not really sure how it stayed up.

Other years, we've celebrated with friends.  On this particular occasion, we got together with friends from our church.  You know we were a rockin' crowd.  I think board games were involved.  (Still friends with all of them.  Must've been good board games!)

But the last two years, we've celebrated with my mother, father, and still-eligible younger brother.  Because, you know, nothing says New Year's Eve like hanging out with the family.  And playing homemade Pictionary.

Yep, ladies, he's still available.  If you are looking for a fine young man who works a lot, golfs a lot, and is willing to play Pictionary with his nephews on NYE, he could be yours!

They got it!! 

Even though it wasn't a crazy night out on the town, things did get a little crazy on my parents deck.  I think the neighbors especially appreciated the banging of the pan lids.  It's a lovely family tradition that I'm sure we'll carry on through the ages.  My grandchildren, no doubt, will think it's a thing all normal families do on New Year's Eve.  God bless 'em.

Happy 2009.  Here's to nights on the town, nights with family and friends, and boys who haven't yet ditched us for their friends on this night.

Happy New Year to Me OR Teach Your Kids To Do The Laundry

  

Washing Machine

1. Choose load size: small, medium, large or extra large.
2. Turn temperature to warm/cold.
3. Options: off/off
4. Choose agitate/spin Fabric Select:
• For loads with towels or jeans: high/high
• For loads with t-shirts, socks, shirts or boxers: high/low
5. Push round knob in. Turn to Normal (6 for smaller loads, 10 for bigger or dirtier loads). Pull knob out and water will start.
6. Add detergent to water. Low line for small loads, higher line for bigger loads.
7. Add clothes to water.
8. Close lid.


Dryer

1. Choose temperature.
• Loads with t-shirts, shirts, boxers, and socks: Medium
• Loads with towels or jeans: High
2. Wrinkle Shield: Off
3. End of Cycle: On (makes it buzz when it’s done)
4. Turn round knob to:
• Accudry Very Dry for loads with towels and jeans.
• Accudry Energy Preferred: for loads with t-shirts, boxers, regular shirts or socks.
5. Press On button (far right).


Why, oh why, you may wonder, am I typing up something I've already known for a bazillion years. And in such simplified terms. With so few options. Why, indeed?!

Because, my friends, it is a new year, and with a new year comes the wind of change. In this year, my 12-year old will make his own lunch, at least a few times a week, finally learn to hang his coat on the hook, and chip in by starting a load of laundry every now and then. With these few helpful hints, neatly  laminated and hanging in the laundry room, he'll no longer "forget how" to do it. It will be oh so clear.  So very kind of me, don't you think?

Now that's what I call a Happy New Year.

Universal Wireless for All

When I was in college, I had what you might call a Diet Pepsi & Mountain Dew habit. But then I spent a sememster in Austria, where Diet Pepsi was made with saccharin, which made me nauseous. After enduring the knife-splitting headaches of withdrawal, I swore off addiction once and for all.

And then came blogging. No, I'm not stocking up on Advil again, but I haven't had much access to Mayberry or mamabird or the rest of you, and it's making me a teensy bit antsy. Okay, maybe "antsy" isn't how the others would describe it, but seriously, it's making me nuts.

I'd like to do a real post here, something about New Year's and goals or resolutions or lofty aspirations. But since I'm totally stealing my dad's laptop and sneaking in a few forbidden moments to myself, I don't have time right now. Instead, I simply want to wish all of you a happy and healthy 2009. And dream of universal access to wireless for everyone!

Have I...?

forgotten that I have a blog and bloggy friends? No.

driven through an ice storm that turned a 10 hour trip into 12? Yes.

been up to my eyeballs in extended family fun? Oh yes!

had access to wireless? Not even close.

wondered how people survive without wireless? Several times an hour.

ever posted from my iPhone before? Nope. A first time for everything.

And, hopefully, the last. Perhaps we'll get them wireless for Mother's Day!

To friendship, and Kelly Corrigan, who said it for all of us

My dear friend Sam sent me this link, and reminded me once again why I always miss her so much.  She's funny and she's kind and she's smart, and she likes me back.  What more can you ask?  Alas, miles and miles separate us now, except for those weekends we jet off and meet up to bask in the warmth of South Beach.  Or the rare occasions when we both end up on Nantucket, kids in tow, all of us descending on our friend Debbie's house, because she dared to live in such a wonderland.  Or the times we plan a trip, because we've reached a certain age, and allow our husbands to come along for once.  These times come sporadically now and perhaps because of that I treasure them even more.  But whether it's been three months or twelve, what I know is this:  I can't wait to laugh and share with Sam again.

For those of you who haven't seen it, take a minute for yourself and your girlfriends, or perhaps to better understand your wife and her girlfriends, and listen to Kelly Corrigan's Words on Women and Strength.  (Ms. Corrigan is also the author of The Middle Place.)

Three cheers for friendship.  Let's all tend to ours in 2009.

How to Have A Peaceful Holiday

The thing is, life’s all about expectations.  I’ve found this to be true, regardless of the situation.

Example:  Sibling relationships

• Expect top notch.  Get bottom rung. Disappointed.
• Expect little, other than love.  Receive a smidge more. Connected and content.

What a difference an expectation levels makes!

This idea rings true for the holiday season as well.  As Christmas approaches, I watch the frenzy around me and sometimes wonder why we get so caught up in the rush.  I know, of course, that there is more to do than time allows.  If that weren’t true, the Christmas cards I ordered in October wouldn’t still be sitting on my desk.  I wouldn’t have been making the hard tack candy to give to teachers early in the afternoon on the very day I needed to give it to them.  I would’ve baked those cut-out cookies by now.  Needless to say, I’m not exempt from holiday to-do lists, chock full of things I haven’t gotten to yet.

The difference is that this year I don’t feel a bit of stress about it.  This hasn’t always been the case; high stress has been the hallmark of many previous holidays.  This year, however, something changed.  Instead of expecting perfection, I just expected my best—and the two are far from the same.  Allowing myself that bit of space created a sense of peace I didn’t expect.  Bonus peace!  Sure, I wish my cards were in the mail.  But the point of the cards is to connect with friends, and I’ve realized that will happen regardless of the day they’re stamped by the post office.

Shopping is another thing that was easier this year.  In a complete score, I lucked out and was able to do my black Friday shopping on Thanksgiving night, sitting there in my cozy pajamas with a glass of wine in my hand.  A late night e-mail from Amazon advertised the camera I’d had my eye on—the only big thing on my black Friday list—on sale for $50 less than any of the ads I’d seen.  SOLD.  I slept in, avoided the masses at the stores, and headed for the local tree-lighting ceremony that evening, complete with a visit from Santa and free hot cider.  Stress-free, I tell ya.

The other difference this year is that, somewhere along the line, I became truly thankful.  I always thought I was, but I guess this year my thankfulness grew up.  In appreciating where I am, and not focusing on where else I could be (or what else I could be getting done), I have inadvertently released myself from some of the traditional holiday mayhem.  And why, you ask, am I so darn thankful?

Probably for many of the same reasons you are.  I am grateful to the core of my being for my warm home.  I am elated that my children are healthy.  I love that they’re learning to make good choices.  My children’s teachers show up day after day and nurture them, and teach them, and guide them when I’m not around.  I’m eternally grateful for them.  Hunger is just a word around here.  When my kids complain that they’re hungry, I’m thankful that they have never known how it feels to be truly hungry.  I’m thankful that my world doesn’t involve making a choice between feeding them or buying them winter boots.  I’m thankful for my husband, my friends, my family, my faith.  And I’m here to tell you, there’s nothing stressful about that.

This post was written for Parent Blogger Network's blog blast, which is sponsored this time by FFDA, a non-profit organization that offers support and assistance for folks who are feeling overwhelmed, both at the holidays and all year long.

Butter or Margarine?

All those many years ago when I first met my girlfriend Janet, she was already a bona fide baker.  I was still more of a baker-in-the-making.  These days, I bake a mean apple pie, but back then I was still one of those people who used margarine in my cookies.  Not to worry.   Janet set me straight on the finer points of using butter and, not wanting to produce inferior cookies, I ponied up the cash and starting baking with the real stuff.

Fast forward almost ten years and I read Michael Pollen’s In Defense of Food, which convinced me, thoroughly, of the horrors of margarine.  Although I’m generally not one to hop on anybody’s bandwagon, his arguments rang true to me and I jumped aboard.  While I admit to still buying diet pepsi (I know!), and the occasional goldfish, it’s more because 1) I’m weak and 2) I’m weak.  I still think he’s right.

So yesterday, when I read Julia Moskin’s column in the NY Times, singing the praises of butter in cookies, I expected some sort of nod to Pollen.  But no.  The article is clearly a baking aficionado’s perspective; not even close to a health nut’s reasoning.  It’s all about how your cookies won’t hold their shape if you dare use margarine, or even, heaven forbid, if you use butter that’s been incorrectly melted or creamed.  As if!  Please know that if you ever deign to eat my cookies, I have probably melted the butter incorrectly.  There’s also a really good chance I didn’t cream it long enough, either.  However, you can still consider yourself lucky that you’re only getting fatter because I used butter and not dying because I used margarine.  I mean, that’s a pretty big gift right there.  Please don’t expect the shape of my cookies to be just so or to receive them in a fancy bag with a ribbon on top.  I am busy people.  I could be handing out Oreos (speaking of non-food).

Nonetheless, I laughed out loud at the comment of Robin Olsen, who runs cookie-exchange.com and is quoted at the end of Moskin’s piece.  Olsen’s thoughts:  “I can tell a margarine cookie as soon as I bite into it.  And then I put it right down.”

Well just tell it like it is, Ms. Olsen!  I love that.  But I won’t send you any cookies.  Too risky.

As for the rest of you, I hope you enjoy whatever it is you’re baking this Christmas!

Faithful Ol' Boy