Cookbooks and hymnals...

White Sauce.

It was the key ingredient I needed to recreate the delicious pasta my friend Karen made last Saturday.

It was the key to turning my ordinary every-other-week spaghetti into a mouth-watering delight for my family. And…

…it was the key to unlocking a great treasure left behind by my Grandma.

I think of Grandma Seawel most often when I’m cooking. Many of my very favorite foods came from her kitchen. Chicken and dumplings. Pancakes. Fried eggs. Lasagna. Garden tomatoes. Pie. Hot pickles straight out of the canning jars. There were other meals too, which perhaps due to overzealous experimentation were a little to “out there” for my young taste buds. But either way, there can be no doubt the woman loved to cook. And generally, I loved to eat what she cooked up!

Grandma passed away in 2003 and I soon after inherited her entire recipe collection. The wall hanging box is full of fading recipe cards; handwritten and typed, some stained, some taped together, many modified multiple times with Grandma’s tweaks for a myriad of meals…….and, I kid you not, no less than 442 variations on pie crust and filling.

Along with the recipe box came her 1961 edition Betty Crocker cookbook. Aside from admiring the vintage cover, I didn’t give much thought to the cookbook. But, I knew that if anyone could teach me how to make a proper White Sauce, it would be Grandma’s 1961 Betty! So I pulled her down off the shelf and opened her right up. Flipping through to the coveted White Sauce, the pages fell open to an unexpected treasure that stopped me in my tracks.

In typical Grandma Seawel fashion, there in the fold of the pages I found a stapled-together set of cards just like those preserved in her recipe box. Each one faded, modified with shorthand notes and re-modified with white-out . Each one bent near the staples, evidence that she had returned to these cards again and again for review.

However, on the cards I found recipes not for meals, but of another kind. They were the hand-written poetic words of what must have been some of her favorite hymns. Holy, Holy, Holy. Have Thine Own Way. My Jesus, I Love Thee. One I’ve never heard moved me deeply and I’ll share here as she had written it.

Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Until my heart is clean;
Let sunshine fill its inmost part,
With not a cloud between;

Holy Spirit breathe on me,
My stubborn will subdue;
Teach me in words of living flame
What Christ would have me do.

Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Fill me with power divine;
Kindle a flame of love and zeal
Within this heart of mine.

Holy Spirit breathe on me,
Till I am all thy own,
Until my will is lost in Thine,
To live for Thee alone.

What’s amazing to me is that the very moment Grandma put that small stack of stapled cards into 1961 Betty, God knew that decades later I’d be at home one evening looking for White Sauce…and that I would need encouragement…and that he would speak to me through what was left behind for me to discover.

When I’m gone and my grandchildren are rummaging through my things, I hope what they find points them to Jesus….and if they find something that fills their bellies with good food too….then so be it!

Bring on the White Sauce!

The Tooth Fairy Rules...

…and what I mean by that is not that she governs but that there is an ever-growing list of Tooth Fairy Commandments (rules) by which our children must abide in order to remain in her good graces. In other words, if Mom and Dad forget that a child has lost a tooth and thereby forget to fulfill their Tooth Fairy duties, there will be a new rule revealed in the morning explaining exactly why the child was not visited by her highness.

I’ve mentioned before that we don’t do Santa, but the Tooth Fairy is our good personal friend. We know her well and reserve the right to add to, subtract from and misinterpret to our benefit all of her Commandments. Furthermore, we will employ The Commandments in any way necessary to sustain the ruse that brings our children such great joy.

The Tooth Fairy Commandments
(as of today, February 17, 2010 8:26am – Household Browne reserves the right to change these rules at any time without any notice whatsoever)

1. Tooth shall be securely sealed inside a snack-size Ziploc baggie.
2. Tooth in baggie shall be placed under owner’s pillow prior to falling asleep.
3. Baggie must be placed under the pillow on the side of the bed facing the doorway.
4. Baggie must slightly protrude out from under the pillow.
5. Owner of tooth must be asleep by 9pm.
6. If tooth is accidentally lost prior to being placed under the pillow and owner shows sufficient signs of remorse and panic (tears required), the Tooth Fairy may still come. She is all-knowing, compassionate and just.
7. Tooth must not fall to the ground in the middle of the night.
8. NEW – added 2/17/2010 – Tooth must not be broken in half.

If any of The Commandments are broken, fear not, we do extend grace and the opportunity the following night to right your wrong – and hopefully Mom and Dad are not too distracted to forget again!

Under the weather...

Some mamas swoon over snuggles from their sick kiddos. Not me. If I’m going to be slobbered on by a six month old or a six year old, said wee one had better be twenty four hours free of all ick. My kids are more likely to be quarantined than cuddled when they fall ill.

That said, when Number One came down with a fever and earache yesterday, I took full advantage of the opportunity to lead by example and stay in my jammies in bed all day with him. After two library books, six hours of Winter Olympic coverage, one bowl of buttery popcorn and a relatively peaceful snowy afternoon I was looking forward to an evening of blissful rest with my baby sleeping next to me.

Not so.

Number One tends to be a loud sleeper. Random noises throughout the night. Waking his sister regularly at 5am with no knowledge of the fact. Couple those tendencies with a fever and a wicked earache and you’ve got the makings for a crazy night in mama's bed. After waking him up four times to ask him to please be quiet (poor Sugar had no idea what I was talking about), we finally had to move him into his own room to be quarantined. Not because of his sickies, but because of his noises.

Again at three am, he was so loud that I had to go into his room, turn on the big light, call his name and smack him around a little bit before his precious disoriented self finally awoke to his bug-eyed mom hovering over him in a full on whisper-yell pleading, “What in the WORLD is wrong with you?!” Again, poor Sugar had no idea.

At the doctor’s office today, we realized he hadn’t been there since his Kindergarten screening. It’s now more than two and a half years later. Pretty good track record for health, I’d say. So, my heart softened a little. And, when he woke up from his four-hour early evening nap on the couch, I invited him into my room for a snack of Goldfish and water and some more Winter Olympics. At 10:30pm. Maybe I’m swooning a little over his snuggles.

That is until he falls asleep…then it’s quarantine city again.

Every mama has her limits.

And one year later...

Say what you want, but I know what you're thinking. Where have I been and why have I abandonded the raving success that used to be this BLOG???

I've been scolded, prodded, poked and cajoled. Yet none could persuade me. I know...the masses have been waiting.

So, here it is. Long overdue. The suspense is killing you, I know.

I am pleased to announce....the official re-start of this blog.

Get on board peeps, it's gonna be fun!

He’s still four…

I did predict it.

After his third and final birthday celebration of the year today, Richie needed to know:

Richie: "Mom, am I still four?"

Me: "Yes."

Richie: "BUT WHEN AM I GONNA TURN FIVE???"

Me: "Next January."

Richie: "Oh for pete's sake!"

Yes, he actually said that last part.

Girl fun…

Last night we had our good friends the Clarks over to watch the Super Bowl. Avery and Meghann spent the entire evening in Avery's room playing. At some point it became evident to them that they were having a bit of a hard time agreeing on what form of play would be most fun. So, they did what any enterprising, self-respecting, intelligent, Type A girls would do.

They negotiated.

The result was the following "to do list" of fun things to accomplish during the evening. After each fun thing was accomplished, they checked it off the list and moved to the next one.

I typed the list here verbatim for your enjoyment.

1. glidr and pate
   
2. dol hows
   
3. clingn up
   
4. playing prises
   
5. playing with stufys
   
6. woching a moofy
   
7. dasing to musike
   
8. resting
   

those are old

9. fathin showe

10. poot on exchrols

For those of you who might find yourselves little-girl-illiterate, I will attempt to translate.

1. Glitter and paint
   
2. Doll house
   
3. Clean up
   
4. Playing princess
   
5. Playing with stuffed animals
   
6. Watching a movie
   
7. Dancing to music
   
8. Resting (this is my favorite!)
   

Those are old (like, we've already done 1 through 8 and that was SOOOO 8 o'clock).

9. Fashion show

10. Put on…..? (This one sill baffles me. Maybe Heather has an idea?)

How old am I again…?

Richie turned four this week. My baby. Four. I think I was pregnant for four straight years and now I've been un-pregnant for that same amount of time.

The time. It flies.

So, Tuesday was his big day and we decided to let him choose dinner. Chick-Fil-A. He kept asking where his presents were and when his party was going to happen. We explained that he would have three parties. One immediate family dinner at Chick-Fil-A. One family party over the weekend. And, one pirate party with his buddies a few days after that.

Well, today (Saturday) was the family party. He was asked over lunch how old he was. He said, "I'm FIVE!" He was promptly corrected and then he immediately came over to me and asked, "Mom…am I five?" I said, "No, you're still four." He said, "How long will I be four?" Until next year, dear. He said, "But today is my party!" clearly misunderstanding that we are STILL celebrating his FOURTH birthday.

Tonight as Richard was tucking him into bed he told Richie that he sure was glad he had a great party today. Richie looked at him with very confused eyes, lifted his little hands in the air and said…."Dad, I have no idea how old I am."

Poor sweetie. Next week at his pirate party, he'll no doubt want SIX candles on his cake.

The time does indeed fly, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves!