You Can't Do It All, All The Time...

Do you ever feel like you're maybe keeping on top of things, perhaps even making headway, and then suddenly have your illusions shattered and find yourself plopped back into reality?

That was certainly my experience last week. I was feeling pretty good about my productivity and domestic organizing: somehow I was keeping on top of the dishes (well, within a day or two), holding my own against the laundry, accomplishing some culinary feats of skill, making inroads into the pervasive clutter and not yelling (too much)!


I must have been on a high. I certainly developed visions of grandeur: a clean house --dusted, vacuumed, toilets shining-- and tidy kitchen; creative and nutritious home-cooked meals (no more cereal for dinner! and, why, I think I should start baking my own bread!); abundant clean clothes with no articles left to languish eternally in the hamper; and a place for everything and everything in it's place. Foolishness, I know...

Looking back on these euphoric days, I can see now the warning signs of an imminent reality-check. The newly-bought labels for the kids' toy bins that wouldn't stick and whose curling edges invited swift peeling off by curious little fingers. Laundry going up on the line and not coming down until after it had been rained on, and dried, and rained on again. And, of course, my own single-minded focus on "accomplishing things;" ah, that's a slippery slope, that one!

The first disruption of my domestic-diva bliss was (as is so often the case) illness. Nothing renders your brain mushy or saps your energy more decisively than staying up all night with a sick child, am I right? Then multiply that a few times as the virus made its rounds.

The ultimate sign that my streak of efficiency was finished was when I dumped an entire casserole into the garbage. I had cooked it before we all fell ill, carefully using up some leftovers to boot, and it had remained untouched for the better part of a week while we shunned solid food. When I finally went to serve it for dinner, I detected an unappetizing aroma. The whole thing had gone bad.

As I spooned the offensive casserole into the bin outside, I thought about how it illustrated the fact that we can't truly be in control, fully organized, on top of everything, especially when it comes to family life. Too many variables, too many rogue agents, too many germs.

Today, I looked around our home with the dishes piled in the sink, pet fur massed in the corners, homeless bits and bobs blanketing random surfaces, stacks of clean laundry abandoned on their way upstairs and heaps of dirty clothes strategically collected along the baseboards. For all intents, it appeared as if my efficient streak had never happened. Ah, well, the memory remains, which is proof that it was real. Right?

Recipe: Watermelon Syrup

We love, love, love watermelons! But every now and then, I manage to pick a dud. Last week, for example, I bought one of these luscious green orbs, only to find the next morning that it had ruptured overnight and oozed pink sticky liquid all over my kitchen.

The whole melon was bloated and soft, so I wasn't surprised that when I cut it open there was a slight "tang" to the pulp. Yes, I did indeed taste it. I am always very reluctant to throw out a whole anything if some part can be salvaged (plant food only, of course). But what to do with a medium-sized watermelon that's beginning to ferment?

A few years ago, I discovered a recipe for watermelon syrup in Extending the Table: A World Community Cookbook published by the Mennonite Central Committee (who also brought us the legendary More With Less cookbook). Well, actually it's a recipe for watermelon jam, but I no longer do canning (another Before Children activity) and thus rarely have pectin in my pantry. Regardless, without the packaged pectin, it still makes a slatheringly-good syrup!

Here's my no-pectin, non-canning version:

Watermelon Syrup
1 medium watermelon
5 cups sugar
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 - 2 teaspoons ground ginger (or less, if you prefer mild spice)

1. Cut up the watermelon and remove the rind and any seeds. (I leave the white, soft seeds, and remove only the black, hard seeds.) 
2. Mash or puree the pulp.
3. In a large pot, combine the watermelon pulp, lemon juice and ginger, and bring to a rolling boil. 
4. Quickly add the sugar, and return to a boil.
5. Boil for at least 1 minute, or until the water content is somewhat reduced and a slightly thickened liquid results. Cool and ladle into containers. Refrigerate.

It's great over plain yogurt, waffles or pancakes, cereal... But watch out! It's seriously habit-forming. (Last year, my partner asked me, "What are you doing, drinking the stuff??" ... no... maybe...)

Blondie's Watermelon Jam

If you're into canning --or want to give it a try-- check out this beautiful recipe with very helpful instructions for watermelon jam from Blondie's Cakes and Things.

I feel like I'm having a taste of summer when I eat my watermelon syrup. Do you have any easy ways to capture the tastes of summer's bounty?

#1000 Giveaway!! "Under Pressure" by Carl Honore

Hey! We've reached 1000 page views! Thank you everyone!

I know that such a milestone is not a record-breaking achievement --many blogs log in excess of that number in a single day-- but I still think it's pretty cool! (And it indicates that more people are reading than just my mom and her friends... though I truly appreciate them, too.)

Thus, in celebration of #1000, I'm going to try something a little different: a giveaway.

The prize is Under Pressure: Rescuing Our Children From The Culture of Hyper Parenting by Carl Honore.

In it, the author argues that in many places today, based on research from North America, Europe and parts of Asia, the culturally normative style of parenting is... well, too much. Too much structuring, too much managing, too much buffering, too much shadowing. And the result? Children who are stressed, stifled and dependent --the opposite of what we as parents are striving for. It's an intelligent and thoughtful book, filled with insights and examples of how we can "lighten up" on our children, and it's a really good read, to boot.

So, rather than buying it from a bookstore, one reader will receive Under Pressure from me, free! How, you ask?

1. Leave a comment on this post below (you don't have to log in, sign up or anything). 
2. Offer in your comment a "Realistic Parent" insight, or something your parents did that you thought was really smart, or anything positive you'd like to share.
3. On Thursday, September 13, 2012 (new date!) I'll ask Ms. Random Generator to pick the lucky winner! 

So check back to see if that winner is you! Thank you all so much for reading and for sharing your thoughts and stories with us!

A Day At The Races: Mountain Biking

It's hot, humid and you almost can't stand to be outside. What to do when the kids start ping-ing off the walls inside like overgrown grasshoppers trapped in a glass jar due to sheer boredom? Why, get them into the country to run themselves ragged! (Just bring lots of water...)

A few weeks ago, we piled into our vehicle and drove about 1.5 hours to a family-friendly mountain bike race. It got us out of the city (though it was still amazingly hot) and offered the kids new terrain to conquer on their bikes.

Several races took place that day, but in the lull as one was finishing and before the next began, the kids could tear up and down the course to their heart's content. Designated kids' races were also on schedule, and multiple 1st place finishers proudly claimed the coveted prize of fruit chews.

The guys additionally had a chance to watch the "big kids" race.

A blanket under an umbrella with a picnic lunch, lots of snacks and lots and lots of water ensured the day ran smoothly. Our boys continue to pester me about when the next race is!

Some things that we learned about young kids and race events:

Watching at the start line

1. Always check with the race director before launching onto any course, so that you know it's safe to play on (you don't want to get shmucked, after all) and so that you won't be impeding other racers. 

Tearing up the single track

2. Adjust expectations. If this is the first time your child is trying an activity (e.g. he may ride a bike, but has he ridden it on unpaved and rough terrain?) steer him towards more manageable endeavours. For example, our five-year-old experienced profound frustration when he couldn't ride the tightly twisting single track on his big bike, in contrast to his three-year-old brothers on their run bikes (i.e. bikes without pedals). Solution: we helped him ride his big bike on the wider, less technical double track, and then he alternated with his brothers in railing through the single track chicanes on a run bike. Happiness!

Down time in the shade

3. Plan ahead to ensure you have a spot to take a break. Although they literally spent hours on the race course, the boys were very happy at several junctures to get off the bikes, sit in the shade and snack. We have a beach umbrella with a corkscrew end and handles, so I can anchor it even in hard ground. Another family we know use a pop-up tent as a "break room."

4. Naturally, be sure you'll have enough eyes available, especially if you're going with kids of different ages/abilities. I knew there would be others at the race I could count on to help out in a pinch.

Hot, tired and happy!

5. Adjust your expectations about how the day will end. The usual bedtime routine may not be the best plan, and if your child is not routine-centred (some kids are) then deviating from the regular pattern is okay. For instance, I was sure that my guys would pass in the car out on the return journey, so I fed them and gave them a quick wipe down with wet cloths as we were leaving the race, which allowed me to forego the otherwise essential bath when we got home and pop them right into bed. 

Standing In The Darkness, Looking To The Light

Do you ever feel like the answer to all your problems was waiting for you at a certain juncture, and you looked the other way at the wrong second and zoomed right by?

We've been working doggedly on something big and I just found out that I screwed up. A non-communication turned into bad information, and that resulted in a colossal miss. Aarrrggghhhh!

As a result, I'm like a limp balloon, like something that used to have buoyancy, but that now lies crumpled on the floor. We'd been stretching ourselves to make something good happen, and I feel like I've given the best of my energies (whatever was leftover from mummy-ing all day) to produce a ginormous failure.

While in this emotionally dark trench, I have been reminding myself that although the situation seems hopeless from the present vantage-point, the passing of time often reveals such a catastrophe to be the advent of an unexpected opportunity. Plus, I have been --grudgingly, I'll admit-- inspired by various pop culture staples, such as post-breakup-"I will survive"-type songs and those terrible motivational posters that hang in places of business (you know, the ones with the statements that are one level up from what you might find in a fortune cookie).

Basically, I need to remember that ultimately what's important (and rather defining) is not the failure, but how I respond to it. Here's to hope and resilience!

If you're needing some spiritual uplifting, check out a song by one of my favourite bands, Rancid, called "If I Fall Back Down." A nice live rendition is here, and an acoustic, chilled version by singer Lights is here.

How I Survive, Really: The Dirt On Cleaning

I do not clean my house. There. The truth is out.

This is a choice I have made:

1. Because I am mother to four boys aged five and under, and so each day is filled with lurching from chaos to crisis. 
2. Because, I am the type who needs at least eight hours of sleep per night... which I do not get because of the first reason. But really where I was going with the sleep thing, is that once I get everyone else in bed, I am zonked and often fall asleep soon after.
3. Because if I have a minute, I spend it throwing dirty clothes into the washing machine, or emptying the dishwasher of many small plates and bowls, or even scouring pots. (If I don't do these things, suddenly we have no clean clothes to wear or vessels to eat out of or cook with.)
4. Because the futility of the endeavour depresses me. There's nothing as discouraging as finally washing the kitchen floor, only to immediately have the back door open and a troop of muddy paws dash across the shining surface.

My favourite domestic tasks to abandon:

• dusting
• vacuuming behind furniture
• washing floors
• cleaning windows
• folding clothes
• ironing 

But, the best part is that I'm learning that I'm not alone. Unless they have a cleaning service or children of a helpful age and/or temperament, other mummies make similar choices.

So, let's relax and let go of our misconception that every mummy's house is pristine except for ours! Like so much of parenting, this messiness is indicative of a stage in our families' lives; it will pass. I can't imagine that on my death bed, I'm going to look back on my life and say, "If only I had dusted more..."