Growing up

Today I realized my kids are growing up in a way that means growing away.  My son is a teenager.  Need I say more.  My daughter is a tween who is stretching her independence to see how it fits.  I am so proud and so sad.  Sad?  No, that's not the right word.  Melancholy feels like the right word, but it may not be right either.  Heavy.  Whatever the word, I feel it deep into my soul today.  I love that we are raising them to be and do and survive and thrive and think and solve.  But today I loved it more when Peanut took my hand and when Murph asked to ride along with me in the car.  Love them, love them, love them.

This is new...

Mom has started pulling her sweater up around her face - sometimes all the way over her eyes and sometimes for hours at a time.  I have no idea why.  She doesn't seem to be sad or cold or frightened.  Maybe she's hiding?  I can't imagine from what.  Maybe it helps her feel safe.  Maybe it's a comfort.  

I know I will pull the blankets up all around my face (never over, but all the way around) to go to sleep when I am especially happy to be going to bed.  I find comfort in the feeling of a soft "blankie" on my cheeks.  Maybe that's what mom is feeling.

I tried to ask her, but she doesn't even know she's doing it...at least I don't think she knows.  Every moment is such a mystery.  

Tonight at dinner she was saying how she never thought she'd get to where she couldn't just do everything for herself.  She hasn't the slightest idea of how long she has needed help.  I could tell she was more herself - not a child or a teenager - and although I don't think she knows exactly who I am, she knows she knows me.  I was able to look in her eyes and smile.  I love that.  

There are times when looking her directly in the eye makes her uncomfortable or angry or brings out the spit and vinegar.  Tonight it was okay.  Tonight I could tell her that we would always be here to help her with anything she couldn't do.  That she didn't need to worry about anything.  Tonight.

Winter Olympics

For as long as I can remember - I have watched, loved, been obsessed with the Olympics.  Summer.  Winter.  Doesn't matter.  I love the Olympics.

I assumed my kids would love the Olympics too.  Isn't Olympic Love genetic?  I certainly thought so.

2008...Summer Olympics...Beijing.  What could be better than that.  I had the entire evening planned.  An Opening Ceremony watch party fiesta.  Me and the kids.  Patrick had to work...I'm surprised he didn't request the night off to be part of the fun!

My kids didn't want to watch..."ARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH...how LLLLOOOONGGGGGGG is this????????????????????...WWWWHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY do I have to watch TOOOOOOOO?  MMMMMMOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.  UUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHH!

What could this mean?  Were my children defective.  Had they been switched at the hospital with non-Olympic loving children?  How could this be?

I am proud to say, I was not the cool parent that night.  I was not the understanding parent.  I was not the I'm going to let you off the hook parent that night.  We watched....the WHOLE thing!  I had stories to tell.  I shared memories of my childhood and memories of watching when they were babies.  I may not have gotten them "stoked", but we watched.  Bless those tv producers at NBC - they made the human interest stories just right to get kids a little bit interested in watching the gymnastics, the swimming, the track events.  Heck, tennis, weight lifting...I watch it ALL!

And now it is part of our family tradition.  This year Peanut was off to Altitude with friends on Opening Ceremonies night, but Murph and I had our own little watch party.  And he may not have been over-the-moon thrilled, but he knew it was just something we did.  We talked about the countries he has learned about in school, the athletes we have watched in other Olympics or in the X games and he was excited about Slope Style and Half Pipe.

We've watched luge, ski jumping, ice dancing, all the snowboard and freestyle skiing events, the moguls, the stories about Russia and all the athletes.   We cheer for Americans.  We cheer for the best uniform or name or underdog if there are no Americans in the finals.  Peyton judges the ice skaters costumes far more harshly than their skating has ever been judged!

Murph is lovin' the snowboard events...anything that might be seen at the X Games, really.  His 3 snow days on the hill with his makeshift snowboard have made him a teeny bit crazy.  This kid tried to skateboard for years.  He apparently grew into his balance because when he was younger - it was not the least bit natural for him.  I remember the first time he wanted to try going down an ice covered hill on his skateboard sans trucks and I pictured the worst.  But, like I said, he's grown into his balance.  It brings him joy and there is nothing I love better than joy.

The kids even made cardboard skis and snowboards one evening while the games were on.  They worked up a whole performance for me - they love their momma!  I promised them I wouldn't post this on FB or Instagram, but I had to put it somewhere so I will never forget the moment.

Jammies, a hand made snowboard, hand made skis, handmade goggles, crutches for ski poles and joyous kiddos.  How can you NOT love the Olympics!  It brings out the best in us all!

Sports EKG

Now that I know everything is normal, I can write about this....Peyton had to have a Sports EKG today in order to get the doctor to sign off on her athletics physical for cheer and athletics next year.  WHAT????  My mom's history made it necessary and Cook Children's and a great big grant made it free.  But I was freaked out.  I know I said before, I really am and "better safe than sorry" parent.  But that doesn't change the fact that I was fearful.  What might they find?  How would that change our lives?  Maybe unknown isn't so bad after all!!!

I picked her up from school a bit early - wanted to avoid rush hour traffic and be the first ones there for the 2:30-4:00 appointments.  Made great time, found a sweet parking space, made our way to the Dodson Heart Center, signed in, signed forms and waited.  In the cutest waiting room ever!  And waited.  Once it was our turn, the EKG itself took less than 5 minutes.  The tech couldn't/wouldn't tell us anything.  They have to send it to the doctor.  She was nice enough to say that there was nothing that made her think she needed to call the doctor or send us for more tests.

So we drove home - made good time again - YAY! picked up Murph, stopped for celebratory Race Trac drinks and came home.  The phone rang as soon as we were in the door - all is well!  EKG is normal!  Athletics physical is signed off on!

We saw 2 children (one about Peyton's age) in wheelchairs with tubes in their noses.  We saw all the special places and information and donor walls and amazing staff who set the tone for Cook Children's and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees and say thank you right there in the corridor.  Peyton asked me after we got in the car if I was all right...and I told her yes.  I reminded her that we are blessed.  And I got all choked up for the children who aren't all right.  I hope this makes it easier to not whine or complain or get ruffled about things that are trivial.  To choose to smile or offer a kind word or an offer to help.  And I will continue to be thankful for my 2 beautiful, healthy, "normal", athletic children.

Dessert Nachos

I had a head cold all week, so I put the slow cooker to good use last week.  It is easier than any other form of cooking and as long as I spray the inside with cooking spray before I begin, the clean up is pretty sinch-y too.

Friday was carnitas day...and the smell was divine!  Maybe it was because it was the first thing I have been able to smell in a couple of days or maybe it was because I adore carnitas more than any other food that I can make at home.

Anyway, I fell into a Mexican feast mode...zesty orange cilantro rice, homemade guac and pico and this delightful giant bowl of carnitas with tortillas (both kinds as I am a sucker for corn and the rest of my family is flour all the way!)

Dinner was sublime, but my sweet tooth was calling....what to have.  Ice cream?  Nope, not feista-enough.  What had I seen on tv earlier in the week....Dessert Nachos!  That's it and behold!  I had all the necessary ingredients in the house.

Biggest problem - our oven is not working.  We have burners and the broiler, but no oven.  I have you-tubed how to repair it, but we have to wait until Patrick has an entire day off to fix it...this one is too big for my repair britches. 

No worries...I can broil with the best of them.  And these nachos were calling my name.

Here's what I used:
for the 'chips'
1/2 stick of butter
1/3 c of sugar
1 T cinnamon
6 flour tortillas
for the whipped cream topping
1 c heavy cream
1 t vanilla
3ish T confectioner's sugar
for the chocolate sauce
1 c milk chocolate chips and one Hersey bar classic
2 T heavy cream

Here's how I did it:
Make your whipped cream first:
Use a hand mixer to whip 1 c heavy cream until it starts to form peaks, add vanilla and confectioner's sugar and whip until it forms soft peaks (if you go too long, you'll get something more like butter, which is NOT what you want!)

Now put your choc chips and 2 T of heavy cream in a microwave safe bowl and unwrap the Hershey bar (or more chips if you have them...we ran out, thus the Hershey bar!)

Then get ready to make the "chip" part
Melt 1/2 stick of butter
Mix together sugar and cinnamon
Cover sheet pans with foil
Preheat broiler (I left my racks in the second from the top position for better control)
Brush tortillas with butter on one side
Sprinkle liberally with sugar/cinnamon mixture
Place under broiler until the tortillas start to bubble and get a little crisp

Take the pan out, flip the tortillas, repeat the butter, sugar/cinnamon thing on the other side and place back in the broiler.

If you can multi-task, go ahead and work on your chocolate sauce while broiling.  Put the chips and heavy cream in the microwave for 15 second bursts.  It took me 3 times to get it where I wanted it.  I added the Hershey bar pieces (you can add extra choc chips) at the end to get it to the consistency you like your sauce.

Once the tortillas are the crispness you like (about 4 minutes each side for me...I am sure this would work in a 450 oven as well if your oven is working!), cut them into triangles, top with chocolate sauce and whipped cream.  Then you can sprinkle with any remaining cinnamon/sugar you have left.

I think it would be cute to add bits of strawberry to mimic 'tomatoes' for the chips - I am sure we will try that this summer.  Mini marshmallows would be fun, sprinkles, chopped nuts, mini chocolate chips...whatever you've got around the cupboard.

ALZ with a head cold...

So, we are experiencing a first in my caregiver world.  A big ole head cold.  Trivial, considering the number of deadly flu cases in the Metroplex, but not so trivial when it feels like some cowboy has parked an F-150 on my sinuses!

Mom doesn't understand head colds unless she has one.  She is very in tune with her immediate symptoms.  Although she can't remember being in the hospital or any illness once she has recovered - but when she is in the throws of pain or discomfort - she knows. 

But when I am sick - she recognizes no symptoms, it would never occur to her to say "Bless You" when I sneeze, she can't remember or empathize or sympathize even when I flat out tell her "I'm sick". She expects (and I expect) breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, the house clean, activities, her appointments, the occasional drive through the neighborhood, conversation and patience.  I can muster most of the above, but the patience is a challenge.

I tend to carry most of my colds in my sinuses for the first few days and then it settles into my throat.  I get croaky and coughy and gravely.  And it hurts.  Vocal rest was always prescribed back in the day before I was a mom and caregiver and actually went to the doctor, but vocal rest is impossible these days.  So, when I have to tell her the day of the week for the 20th time and my voice is raw - I get so frustrated.  Sometimes at her - I mean, I pulled out her atomic clock as a reminder.  I wrote it on a sheet of paper and put it on her walker (along with some other fun facts to help her remember without me answering), I set the white board calendar (with the day circled in purple) in plain sight. 

And sometimes at myself.  She doesn't remember.  It's her favorite point of reference.  I can tell that she thinks if she can only figure out what day it is, all the other missing facts will fall into place.  That's not how it actually works, but I somehow feel in my heart that that is why she asks. It's what sparks this look on her face as she repeats the day back to me that Thursday, or Saturday or Monday should MEAN something.  It doesn't.  And I should be more patient. 

Truthfully, I succeed about 80% of the time being patient with a head cold...down from my 90% on a regular, non-head-cold day.  And just like she doesn't remember that I don't feel well, she doesn't remember if I am short with her.  But in the moment it happens - it makes her mad or breaks her heart.  And she doesn't need that.  She may not know it, but she has enough to deal with every day. 

When I stop and think about how beautifully she is handling not having the vaguest idea where she is or who she is and who I am and why I am and why, why, why without breaking down and crying or hiding under the blankets it increases my patience.

Take a couple more tylenol, blow my nose, wash my hands, grab a mug of hot ginger green tea, say thank you in a prayer or in my journal and caregiver on!

Middle School Here We Come! (again)

It's that time of year again - well, IF one of your children is going into a new school in the fall.  Peanut is prepping for Middle School.  Cheer tryouts, class selection, new counselors and "IGraduate"  EEEK!

We have her cheer forms completed - well, except for the sport physical.  We thought we had that done, but because of my mom's history of A-Fib, my baby has to have a sports EKG.  How overwhelming!  Luckily, Cook Children's is offering them for free in the month of February, so we will be there on Tuesday.  She is actually excited about the process - she is still wanting to be some kind of surgeon or physician or medical examiner.  It means I have to drive downtown - something I detest, but I will do it, because I am a firm believer in "better safe than sorry" when it comes to the kiddos.

I went to the HMS incoming 7th grade meeting on Thursday - lots of info, lots of choices to be made and some thinly veiled warnings from the counselor who presented...but I still believe we will go the Pre-AP route for her - even the math...we'll see!

Next Thursday is the IGraduate meeting - good grief!  It's a new thing for our school district - kids are having to declare their route for high school by the 8th grade.  I was hoping that meant that someone had identified a way to actually know what you want to be when you grow up - since that is what they are asking for our kids to do in this declaration - but sadly, no....it's just something they say will help, I feel is yet another way to silo our kids into this teeny tiny path.  Kids choosing their preferred sport at 13, kids deciding to focus on the college prep courses and missing out on fine arts or athletics.  I don't know.  I am withholding further judgment until the meeting next week.

She is such an enigma...she loves science.  She loves gymnastics.  She loves imagination games.  She is discovering drama and theatre.  She sings.  She dances.  She analyzes.  She sleeps with a dozen stuffies.  She loves fashion.  She is a phenomenal speller.  She works with the special needs kids in her school daily.  She is independent.  She is strong.  She loves her family.  She is practical like no one I have ever known.

She will be successful in Middle School.  It will be different and there will be some transition issues.  But she will be successful because she has decided she will be successful and that's just how she is!