May 2008

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Verbed.

This is my living faith, an active faith, a faith of verbs: to question, explore, experiment, experience, walk, run, dance, play, eat, love, learn, dare, taste, touch, smell, listen, argue, speak, write, read, draw, provoke, emote, scream, sin, repent, cry, kneel, pray, bow, rise, stand, look, laugh, cajole, create, confront, confound, walk back, walk forward, circle, hide, and seek. To seek: to embrace the questions, be wary of answers.” – Terry Tempest Williams, naturalist and author.

(From QotD)

Apparently the RECIPE has been perfected but my typing skills are still lacking.

The temperature for cooking the granola bars is actually 325F. I’ve edited the original post but figured I should leave another note for anyone who won’t see the change (RSS, etc).

Perfected.

This is the “final” version of our homemade granola bar recipe. We added in the soy cereal to increase the protein in the bars and we’ve started making double batches so we can freeze a pan for later.. (You wouldn’t BELIEVE how quickly the kids go through them.)


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Homemade Granola Bars Violet-style.

Ingredients:
3 1/2 cups rolled oats
1 cup “PC Soy Crunch Cereal”
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
3 tablespoons of “FiberSure” or other dissolvable fiber supplement
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup melted margarine (or butter)
1/3 cup of brown sugar
2 cups of chocolate chips (or raisins, coconut, peanuts, etc.)
1 cup of honey (approx.)

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 250F 325F. Spray 11×13 pan with non-stick spray or grease with butter/margarine if you prefer.

2. Melt butter/margarine in microwave.

3. In a large bowl, mix oats, flour, baking soda, vanilla, melted butter, brown sugar.

4. One things are well-mixed, add in chocolate chips (or nuts, raisins,etc) Then add as much honey as required to make everything sticky (usually about 3/4 of a cup – but it depends on your dry ingredients)

5. Firmly press ingredients into the pan. Bake for 18-22 minutes or until golden brown. The bars will puff up around the edges a bit and the middle will still be soft. They will firm-up as they cool.

6. Remove from oven and allow to cool for about 5-10 minutes. Cut into bars and let cool fully in the pan before removing.

Maymo likes to play with a container of plastic animals that date back to my childhood. It’s most amusing, to me, because all of the animals originated in different contexts – some are from my Christmas manger scene, some are from sets of farm animals, some are from vending machines..

As a result, all of the animals are on totally different scales and there are chickens bigger than hippos and a lime green swan and a completely transparent swan with a red beak and red wings.

Today he was pretending to be the voice for a crocodile (yellow) while I was being a little lamb (with a strange red bow around its neck).

Maymo: Hello! I am a crocodile!

Me: Hello! I am a lamb! A baby lamb!

Maymo: Would you like some of my food, baby lamb?

Me: Sure. Wait. What do crocodiles eat? Fish?

Maymo: Frogs. I eat frogs.

Me: Hmm.. I’m not sure I like frogs. What do they taste like?

Maymo: HOT DOGS!

Me: Oh! Okay then! I like hot dogs!

Maymo: And chicken. And turkey.

Me: Chicken and turkey AND hot dogs?

Maymo: And pizza!

Me: Chicken and turkey and hot dogs AND pizza?

Maymo: Yes. Now eat it.

Me: Um, okay. [make nom nom noises]

Maymo: Do you like it?

Me: I am not sure. I have never eaten a frog before so it tastes strange to me.

Maymo: I KNOW! LET’S GO TO MCDONALDS! BABY ANIMALS LOVE MCDONALDS!

Me: I don’t think so. I think McDonalds makes food OUT OF baby animals.

Maymo: I hope the police don’t catch them.

Me: Ummm…

Maymo: You can only eat grown up animals.

Me: Oh. That makes it ok?

Maymo: Yep. You can go to jail for eating baby animals. The police will LOCK! YOU! UP!

Me: Really?

Maymo: Yeah. Now eat your frog. It is a baby frog but that’s okay.

I feel like there’s a lesson to be learned from this but I’m not sure what it is…

..and I’ve been spending too much time with him, apparently.

Diseased.

On a daily basis, give or take the rare occasion, the two older kids come home from school ready to fight. They argue with me about homework, they burst into spontaneous tears, they fight with each other, they lock themselves into bedrooms, they rail against the unfairness of LIFE…

It has come to the point where I literally start to feel a bit sick around 3:20 – a few minutes before they’re due to arrive – because the thus-far peaceful day is about to be shattered by tears and yelling and, in my case, fighting the urge to throw things.

I do not throw things. It’s not part of my parenting style. But I do daydream about chucking a plate or lunch bag across the room..

Right now both kids are in their rooms – one for lying to me and the other because he’s doing homework.

One tried to evade my lie-detector by asking to go to a friend’s house immediately after school, before I could check his backpack.

The other tried to skirt the homework issue and then he got mad when his plan was foiled and then he stomped around and cried and.. yeah.

So it’s 4:11 and the kids are pissed off and angry. And I’m feeling edgy and irritable and it’s time for me to make dinner and I am SO not inspired and I miss Coffee and I miss my sanity and if I could just go for a walk around the block a few times (in the rain) I’m sure I’d feel better but, yeah, not possible.

It would be so nice – so refreshing – if the kids could came home in any mood other than surly and bitchy. It’s fucking contagious.

The kids are not what you’d call “adventurous” eaters. They’ll do anything to avoid trying something new, or something they can’t identify, and vegetables are treated the same way most people treat poison.

It’s the one thing I miss the most, other than sleep, from our pre-adoption days. I miss eating meals that involved vegetables. I miss eating vegetables without being surrounded by weeping children.

Knowing that the kids are not fond of particularly healthy foods, we’ve still managed to keep things reasonably healthy.

We add dissolvable fiber to anything we can, we eat whole-wheat pasta exclusively, we buy bread that doesn’t remotely resemble Wonder. They take vitamins every day. We avoid red meat.

I make homemade granola bars so I can increase the protein and fiber content of their snacks. We make popsicles from real juice instead of sugar water.

And we don’t let the kids have artificial sweeteners or microwaveable meals. Whenever possible, we make things out of identifiable ingredients rather than packets or boxes.

This is not to say we’re food police. The kids do get candy and junk food sometimes. We eat frozen pizza every Friday. We buy pop in 2L bottles that last at least a week for all of us. The kids have eaten at A&W and Subway a few times.

Regular conversations happen about why we eat the foods we do and why we don’t visit McDonalds at all. Why we make food rather than buy it pre-made. Why we do and don’t eat certain things.

The kids tend to roll their eyes. Cry because there are vegetables on their plates.

I grit my teeth. I clench my jaw. I take any opportunity I can get to eat broccoli..

Oldest One has been learning about nutrition at school in his health class. A few days ago he came home and told me about a spinach salad he had made in class, and eaten, and how very good it tasted.

Yesterday he was inspecting the contents of the fridge – the orange juice, the vegetables in the crisper, the margarine made with olive oil. “We eat really healthy, don’t we?” he commented.

“Yep. We need more vegetables, though. But yeah, we eat pretty healthy.” I spoke as casually as possible.

“Huh.” He shuffled off to do something else.

The comparisons between his own life and the lives of the kids around him are one of the best ways for him to learn. He has remarked in the past about how some kids bring cans of pop for lunch and eat a lot of prepackaged crap and how he has fresh food and juice instead.

And now he knows for sure that we’re doing the right thing around here.

I wonder if I could possibly give his school some suggestions about future lesson plans. Perhaps “Why Cleaning Your Room Is Important” or “Why Calling Your Brother Retarded Is Wrong”?

Cooties.

Maymo has a barking cough – something beyond asthma – leading me to pop vitamins like candy in the hopes of delaying the inevitable.

It goes without saying that his tiny body is incubating the cooties and converting them to something potent to be passed over to me on one of his frequent smooches. That kid enjoys the “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM” sound of kissing more than anything, lately.

When we got home from school, I requested that he recline on the sofa for the afternoon, watching “The Three Little Chipmunks” (as he calls the movie) and drinking lots of water. I gave him his pillow and his Scooby-Doo blanket. I tucked him in carefully and closed the blinds to the living room so he could relax.

He agrees with my request only when I’m in the room – as I’m typing this, I can hear the thudding of his body bouncing off of all possible walls, floor and furniture.

When I go upstairs (after hitting “publish”) I can guarantee he’ll freeze in the middle of the living room – like a deer in headlights – and tell me that he was, “Just going to go and pee, Mom!”

Uh huh.

Adoption.

A few days ago, Maymo asked me to have a baby. When I told him that was totally NOT happening, he suggested that I may want to adopt a girl – age 4 – so he has someone to play with… BUT NOT A BOY. A GIRL.

I told him not to get his hopes up.

And, speaking of adoptions, the two older boys are going to see a lawyer next week so they can sign their own “Adoption Agreement”. This is independent legal counsel – the kids had to choose their own lawyer – and I (nor Coffee) am not permitted to attend the meeting beyond the waiting room.

All kids over the age of 7 years must agree to be adopted. Did you know that?

At the meeting, the lawyer will ask the kids to explain to her what adoption means and to tell her whether they want to be adopted by Coffee and I. Assuming they still do, and we have no reason to think otherwise, they’ll sign some documentation that will be presented to a judge shortly afterward and then, at last, Coffee and I will sign finalization papers.

All told, however, the final, FINAL, F-I-N-A-L paperwork will not be in our hands until around October.

In the meantime, I’m hoping to start planning the summer’s adoption party – to be held, I think, at Waterloo Park where we can BBQ and play on the playgrounds and go to the water park and hassle the animals.

August seems like as good a time as any, so if you’re local and/or plan to be local, consider yourself invited.

Oh!


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Happy Mother’s Day to all y’all who happen to be mothers – of any kind, anywhere.

Today’s my first Mother’s Day experience. The kids let me sleep until I woke up naturally – instead of their usual thunking, leaping and jumping around on the floor above my head at 7am.

I’ve cried only once – though Maymo’s gift on Thursday made me cry, so perhaps that counts, too. There have been many hugs and many kisses and many kids saying, “It’s MOTHER’S DAY, DON’T BUG HER!” which has cracked me up.

We’re eating Pad Thai for dinner (made by Coffee) and we’re dyeing my hair pink today and, in short, we’re going to spend some good quality time as a family (once I’m off the computer..)

And then I get to have a NAP.

Best! Day! EVER!

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