Bottoms Up!

I may have had it coming.

Crouched over in a most unflattering position, tucking in sheets around an air mattress we were preparing for my mom's overnight visit, I'm sure there was no way of missing it.

But I was still unprepared when Taylor came around the corner and patted me on the hip.

"I love your big bottom, Mama," he said with a smile.

Now, I know that this was all innocently stated with no intention of offense, but I still wasn't quite certain how to take that little remark.  I whipped my head around to look at Bryson, who was looking at Taylor with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

"Taylor, that's really not a nice thing to say to someone,"  he exclaimed.
I could tell he was trying not to laugh as he said it.

Taylor was genuinely confused.
"What?"

"Ah... well, we just really don't need to talk about other people's bottoms," he continued.  "It's not very polite."

"Oh."    He thought about that new insight for just a moment.
And then he ran off, a new distraction catching his eye.


Later that evening after the kids were in bed, Bryson and I were lounging about, reading.  I looked over at him.

"So... do I really have a big bottom?"  I asked.  I was only half-joking.

He laughed, and then proceeded to give the correct response.

"No, you don't have a big bottom.  I suppose when compared to a five-year-old's bottom, then yes, it would be comparatively larger, but for you it is perfectly well-proportioned."

"Okay..."

"But, you know," he continued, "if you want to see something positive about it, he did say that he liked it."

Great.  Now I had Sir Mix-a-Lot lyrics involuntarily running through my head. 
But I suppose there are worse things...

After all, my little boy loves me just the way I am.
Big bottom and all.

Valentine's

This morning did not go so well.

With everyone feeling marginally healthy, it was a battle to get everyone out of bed, and another battle to decide whether to allow Taylor and Reilly to go to school.  I wasn't convinced they were ready.  They were adamant about not missing the Valentine's Day festivities.  They won.

But the everyday routine felt far from ordinary this morning.  I was tired.  I was grumpy.  I was impatient.

And no one was prepared.

Homework was unfinished.
Breakfast was unmade.
Babies needed changing.  And feeding.
Taylor's valentines were unaddressed.
Reilly's were simply missing.

I forgot myself.
And I snapped.

I yelled at my four-year-old little princess.
About taking responsibility.
About listening the first time you're asked to do something.
About obedience.
About treating your things with respect and care.

But the valentines still remained undisclosed.
And I was angry she had been so careless with them.

Until they were found...
 Placed high on a shelf by her loving daddy.

(Who didn't want her to accidentally misplace them.)

Enter the shame monster.

And it was only after we were on the road driving to preschool that the irony of the situation struck me.  How on this day of all days-- a day specifically chosen for celebrating the ones you love-- I acted in a manner completely in opposition to what I should have done.

In the school parking lot, I helped Reilly out of the car and held her tight for a few moments.

"I am so sorry I was mean and cross with you,"  I apologized.
"I was wrong to yell and act like I did.  I want you to know that I love you very much.  You're my little princess, and I will always love you more than you can imagine."

She smiled and giggled and proceeded to tell me that she loved me more.
Then she showered me with tiny kisses all over my cheek.

And as I drove away
I was left to wonder how on earth I had ever gotten so lucky
--despite all my inadequacy--
to be blessed with such love in my life.

Vegetarian Chili with Corn and Winter Squash

Nothing warms the soul on a blustery day quite like a bowl of hearty chili.  This vegetarian version hits the spot with a little sweetness from winter squash and corn, and a little smokiness from chipotle peppers.  I used a combination of butternut and kabocha, but any winter squash will do. Garnish with some plain yogurt instead of sour cream and some fresh avocado slices for a savory, creamy dinner.  Serve with corn bread for a new family favorite.

Vegetarian Chili with Corn and Winter Squash

• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 large bell pepper, chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 3 T chili powder
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp ground coriander
• 4 cups peeled and diced (about 1-inch pieces) winter squash
• 1 can kidney beans, drained and well-rinsed
• 1 can black beans, drained and well-rinsed
• 1/2 cup water
• 1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels
• 1 1/2 tsp sea salt
• 2 14.5 oz cans diced tomatoes
• 1 7 oz can green chiles
• 1 chipotle pepper in adobo sauce, minced (please note that it is one pepper, not one jar!)
• dash of nutmeg
• dash of freshly cracked black pepper
• plain yogurt (optional)
• avocado slices (optional)

1. Heat a large skillet over medium heat.  Spray with cooking spray and add onion, bell pepper, and garlic.   Sauté for five minutes or until lightly browned.
2. Combine onion mixture with cumin, coriander, and chili powder in a large slow cooker (at least 5 qt).  Add squash and remaining ingredients except yogurt & avocado and stir to combine.  Cover slow cooker and cook on low setting for 8 hours.  
3. Divide chili into bowls and garnish with plain yogurt and avocado, if desired.  Serve with cornbread.

Yield:  6-8 servings

The Last Twenty-Four Hours

Two sick kids.
One broken humidifier.
Time to get a new one.
(Humidifier, that is.)

A blizzard outside.
Power outage at the store.
Draw up plan B.

A power outage at home.

Yay!
The power is back on.
Oops, nope... now it's back off.

Scared kids.
Time to break out the flashlights.
Kisses and hugs.
Back in bed.

Ah.... sleep.
Very short lived.

Baby throwing up.
Big boy has the croup.

An icy drive to the doctor.
To the store again to get medicine.

(This time the power stays on.)

But big boy is having an energy crisis.
He sits on the cold linoleum.
Asks when we can go home.
The pharmacy is back logged.

Home.

Baby throws up.
Again.
And again.
And again.

Big boy sleeps.
And sleeps.
And sleeps.

Mommy wants a nap too.

But then big boy comes around.
Snuggles in close and tight.
Says how much he loves his mama.

I think we'll be alright.

A Chip Off the Old (Swimming) Block

It's funny, all the work you put into giving your children every opportunity to find their own interests for themselves.  I have tried so hard through the years to avoid pushing my own hopes and interests onto each of them, and feel that I have done fairly well at not becoming one of "those" moms.  You know the type.  The ones that live vicariously through their kids.  

I want my kids to blossom within their own ambitions and dreams.

Despite our many years of swimming competitively and coaching other swimmers in turn, Bryson and I haven't pushed them toward the sport.  It has been a very conscious decision.  We have put them in swimming lessons consistently because we feel it is an important skill to learn, but as far as the competitive sport has been concerned we have tried to stay neutral.  In addition to swim lessons, we also have tried soccer, gymnastics, wrestling, and dance-- to varying degrees of interest and success.

But just a little while ago, Reilly happened to walk in on Bryson running on the treadmill, as he was watching the Swimming World Championships held recently in Dubai.  She stopped and stared at the screen, a curious look on her face.  Rebecca Soni, Ryan Lochte, Natalie Coughlin.  Swimmers of exceptional skill and talent competing on the world stage.  She was fascinated.

She turned to her daddy.

"I want to do THAT," she pronounced emphatically.

It really is funny.  I suppose the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree after all.