The only thing embedded around here is the grime.
At what point do we have no say at all over our kids’ well being? When they’re ten? Six?
As the police were putting the mother in the squad car, she was crying out, “Please, please, help me…my daughter is in there.”
Still haven’t found a house. I keep packing the stuff, because we’ve got to be out of here in three weeks, but all of it will go into storage until we find a place. My in-laws (have I mentioned my amazing in-laws?) are opening up their house to us and just giving us their upstairs. My folks (have I mentioned my brave folks?) are going to foster our very odd cats. At this point, I am oscillating wildly between going with the flow God is sending and completely freaking out, thinking this is just too big and inconvenient and horrible. So now is the time to count my blessings.
So when I whine about the hard times I have to go through, I’m really not appreciating all that we do have. I’m not living in Zambia, hoping the groundnut crop will be plentiful enough for us to buy a goat. I’m not in the NICU, watching my newborn fight for his life and grow strong enough for open-heart surgery. I’m having to give up my personal space and store my possessions until we find a bigger house to move into. Maybe I should shut up with the whining.
The Princess is a budding wordsmith. Even as a little baby, she would just crack up at the sound of some words. Snip! Stuck! She was an early reader, not because we taught her, but because she broke the code. She likes the way language is put together.
And then someone swapped out my child in the night. Because the one who had a writing assignment yesterday was a completely different creature than my Princess.
Princess: “It’s too hard. I can’t write a subject sentence.”
Me: “Yes you can. What is going on in your paragraph? How would you sum it up?”
Princess: “I dunno.”
Me: “What’s it about?”
Princess: (Insert long, windy speech about any number of things, some of which are on her paper, others that could be on a piece of paper somewhere in the world. It’s possible.)
Me: Sigh. Silent prayer. “Okay. So shorten that a bit. How do you let the reader know what they’re about to read? What do the sentences have in common?”
* Insert emotional outburst, tears, complaining that I never help when it’s too hard.
Me: “Ooh-kay. So what’s the subject?”
Princess: (Jagged sob.) “I just don’t think I’m getting a lot of sympathy, here.”
The house sold. Boom, just like that. One day we put it on the market, the next we got an awesome offer. The inspector has been through. Bada bing bada boom. Of course, I’m omitting all the last minute freaking out. (Remember this? Yeah, right! <sarcastic falsetto voice>Ooooh, look at me! I’m sooo well adjusted!</sarcastic falsetto voice >) Now we are just waiting for closing.
There is one small problem. We don’t have a house to move into. And since this area is experiencing a record tight market, it’s touch and go as far as finding a place in time. God says he will provide for all our needs and I don’t doubt it for a second. My source of worry is that my idea of needs and His may be very different.
But other than that, life is surprisingly static. There’s plenty to get outraged about, but for now it’s just swimming around in the back of my mind and won’t come out my fingers. So I’ll pass on this amazing recipe. Go read the whole thing. The author is really funny. (And don’t be scared away by the strange-sounding ingredients. Trust me. And remember what they say on Sesame Street: “It’s good to try new foods!”)
Foreign Devil Fried Rice
INGREDIENTS:
6 sticks dried bean curd
1 tablespoon shredded black fungus
7 dried black mushrooms
boiling water
3 1/4 cups water
2 cups
basmati rice
1 tablespoon butter or oil
4 eggs, beaten
3 tablespoons
vegetable oil, or as needed
1 cup cubed carrots
1 cup chopped yellow onion
4 tablespoons minced fresh ginger root
4 tablespoons minced garlic
1/2 cup thinly sliced green onions
1 cup frozen peas
3 tablespoons tamari
2 tablespoons sesame oil
fresh ground black pepperDIRECTIONS:
1. Place the dried bean curd in a bowl, and cover with boiling water. In a smaller bowl, place the shredded black fungus and dried black mushrooms, and cover with boiling water. Allow the bean curd, black fungus, and dried black mushrooms to soak until rehydrated, about 20 minutes.
2. Place 3 1/4 cups of water with rice in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, and let it boil hard for one minute. Cover with a lid, and turn heat to low. Cook on low for 5 minutes, then remove from heat (without lifting the lid). Let sit, covered, while you prepare the rest of the meal, or about 20 minutes. Do not at any time lift the lid.
3. In a non-stick skillet, melt butter over medium-high heat. Scramble eggs to the dry instead of the creamy point. Dump them into a bowl, and continue to chop them into bits with the edge of a wooden spoon. You don’t have to pulverize them, go for pieces about the size of your thumbnail.
4. In one bowl, combine carrot, onion, garlic, and ginger. In another bowl, green onions and frozen peas. Now drain all the water off the bean curd, fungus and mushrooms. The bean curd might need some tough bits removed, and the remainder cut into quarter-inch rings. The mushrooms only need slicing and the fungus is pre-sliced so no worries there. Combine bean curd and mushrooms in a third bowl.
5. Heat wok over high heat; let the metal get smoking hot, about one minute. Add three tablespoons of vegetable oil. Wait about 30 seconds, and tip in the bowl of carrot, onion, garlic, and ginger. Cook, stirring frequently. The garlic’s going to brown first because it has the highest sugar content, so keep an eye on it, and turn the flame down if necessary. Tip in the bean curd, shredded fungus, and mushrooms, and cook and stir for one minute. Now look to see that your flame is set to maximum, and tip in the spring onion and the frozen peas. You don’t need to cook them, just threaten them. Keep them moving, and mix in the rice. Stir in the eggs, and then season with generous, generous amounts of tamari and sesame oil, and a few twists of fresh black pepper.
Yesterday was our ten year anniversary. Like most big mile markers in our lives, Mr. MG was out to sea. He was gone for last year’s anniversary, too. He missed the birth and infancy of both kids. And don’t even talk to me about Valentine’s Days past. Heck, I don’t usually even get him for Halloween.
So what can I say about this husband who has been absent for at least half of our marriage?
I can say that I would do it all over again. Twice.
(Well, okay, I wouldn’t go through the wedding day again. That was horrible. But everything else.)
Happy anniversary, honey. I think we’re getting a good start.
There’s been a lot of tribulating lately about the existential angst that comes with being a mama and primary keeper of the house. I mean, if you do it, do you become it? If you’re not doing it right, are you in serious need of therapy?
I got the latest curriculum newsletter from Rod& Staff. The essay on the front page says it all.
Many people today are seeking to have an easy life. They want a job that requires little effort and pays good wages. They pursue activities that bring pleasure to them. They make decisions based on what they can get out of something.
They will take some responsibility if it is beneficial to them. But if they perceive that the responsibility is no longer beneficial to them, they will free themselves of that responsibility.
Thus they marry someone because it brings a benefit to them. But they quickly seek a divorce if the marriage does not give the benefits they desire. They will stick to a job only as long as it appears beneficial to do so. They will have children, but will sadly neglect them if the care of them becomes burdensome.
As children of God, we can not have this attitude toward life. Rather, we do what we do because it is right. We begin a marriage relationship and work through the difficulties that arise because it is the only right thing to do. When we have children, we assume responsibility for them because it is right.
Many have chosen to teach school, not because it is easy but because it is worthwhile – to labor with eternal souls. When difficulties arise, faithful teachers work through these problems and faithfully stick to their job, not because it is easy but because it is right.
We teach this concept to our children also. We don’t do our schoolwork because it is fun; we do it because it is right. We practice diligence and perseverance in difficult assignments because it is the right thing to do.
This is not a life of drudgery and boredom. Rather, we experience the satisfaction of a job well done. We rejoice in the blessings God bestows on those who do right. We anticipate even greater rewards in the future when we hear the words of our loving Father: “Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
This would be just some Deepak Chopra crystal-rubbing bull hockey if it weren’t biblical. Yoder isn’t just telling us “Mind over matter, dude!” It’s all about keeping your eyes on the big picture. Wiping butts and chasing dustbunnies isn’t work that disappears. The home we create and the children we raise right is kingdom work.
Got a toddler who wears his picky pants to supper? Well, he’s got nothing on Craig Flatman (Jam Boy to his friends).
Craig told the BBC that the very thought of eating fruits and vegetables made him sweat.
The Bear has discovered his inner food snob. Suddenly protein is passe, and an insult to very high chair tray. Luckily for my mothering instincts, he’s grooving on vegetables – especially broccoli – so I’m not stressing. Well, not about that, anyway.
This is a new phase to me. The Princess has always been a plate cleaner, even though we were very careful never to push her to eat everything she was served. (See how perfectly we do the parenting thing? First one down the chute, already we have aaaallll the answers! See? No? Dang!) She would rather eat something that disgusts her that to see it wasted. She will wince with every loathsome bite, because throwing it away is just too tragic and sad to think about.
Meanwhile, the Bear is too busy to be bothered with all that food business. It is better to go hungry than to eat something yucky. Or even something he’s not in the mood for. I am so gonzo flummoxed as to where he got it.
Cattiva at Does This Mean I’m a Grownup? has some excellent pointers on parenting. (Part One, Part Two) Some of it vaguely echos my own mother’s philosophy.
These parents (and so many parents today) try to be their children’s “friend.” Forget that. My kids have enough friends. They need guidance from PARENTS. Besides, it’s not like I’d actually choose these people to be my friends on purpose.
Thank God you can be friends in the long run. If you live long enough.
(Tip o’ the Swiffer: Thicket)