Tag Archives: children

Father’s Day

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These two guys on the left reading the classic “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish” share not one iota of DNA – but they sure look alike, don’t they? Okay, except maybe for the hair. But they’re both concentrating mightily on their book and I think they even have the same look on their faces, as if they can’t wait to see what happens on the next page. (Spoiler alert: Five fish, six fish, seven fish, more!) My dear husband very very rarely uses the word “step” when he talks about the two daughters he got when he married me six years ago — they are his family and that’s all there is to it. So it tickled him when grandson Capt. Adorable, now 2, was younger and balder and people who didn’t know would say, “Oh, y’all look so much alike!” Sort of like the picture on the right of the Captain and my dad, his great-grandfather, taken when the Captain was only a few months old. He was fascinated with my dad’s watch and would do his best to eat it — and my dad loved every minute of it. Couldn’t get enough Now, Dad takes him on John Deere gator rides and they “talk” tractors. Lucky baby to have such loving men in his life — and that’s not counting his own dad and other grand- and great-grandfathers and uncles and great-uncles. I’m lucky that way, too. And you, also, I bet. Happy Father’s Day!

Children

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My dear husband always cautions me against overloading you all with photos of 2-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable, but I can’t help it. I mean, he is so adorable, right? And it’s the weekend and I only have about 10 minutes before Dr. Who starts and I haven’t blogged for a couple of days so I really want to get something up here and I was browsing through my photos and saw this and I knew — I KNEW — you would want to see it, too. I mean, look at those curls! That determined look in his eyes. Those precious little baby knees. Adorable!!! This is at the opening this past week of the new Earth Fare — now officially my most favorite grocery ever, although I still cannot pass by a Whole Foods or Fresh Market without stopping — in Huntsville, Alabama. All sorts of vendors were outside passing out samples and free stuff — Party Time! Anyway, we were lured over to the kettle-corn guys by the irresistible kettle-corn smell and Capt. Adorable immediately was taken with their cart shaped like an old-fashioned car — or maybe it really was some kind of old car or something. The kettle-corn guys told us all about it but I was too busy drinking in the Captain’s adorability to listen closely. It’s a grandma thing.

Babies

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Ain’t technology wonderful? Here I am, stuck in the basement obsessively keeping up with weather and tornado warnings on TV, radio and computer all at the same time — and smiling with delight at new pics of my week-old nephew. Born to my younger brother and my sweet-and-precious-even-though-she’s-a-Yankee sister-in-law in Maine, this adorable baby does have an actual name but to me he’ll never outgrow what his parents-to-be called him when he was only a tiny image on a sonogram: Splinter, as in A Little Piece of Wood. Can’t you just smell that precious new baby goodness? Splinter’s mom and dad will make excellent parents, and “big brother” Thule, their Siberian Husky, will help, I’m sure. And in no time whatsoever, it’ll be two years later and, just like grandson Capt. Adorable, Splinter will be playing with trains and flirting with girls and demanding yellow crayons instead of red ones. And by the way, it’s a lot harder to build these train tracks then it looks! Not to mention any names, but one day somebody decided to help the Captain lay out a new configuration and that person got hopelessly confused and couldn’t even create a simple circle that would bring Thomas back to the station safe and sound. Thankfully, the Captain had it figured out. And I believe “laying toy train tracks” should be added to the list of brain-boosting activities.

And on another rant, I climbed up on a (Dove for Sensitive Skin) soap box in my weekly newspaper column, http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20100423/ARTICLES/4235001,  and explained exactly why I’m mad at Tiger Woods, Michael Phelps, John Edwards and Kate Gosselin. I mean, it’s fine to make mistakes and do stupid things and choose wrongly — just don’t look me (and by “me,” I mean all of us) in the eye and lie about it. Except if you’re on Survivor. Then I sort of expect you to lie. And tell me all about it.

Children’s decor

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If you’re looking for an awesome gift for a favorite child, consider one of these rugs. I’d seen them in stores before but never really thought about them until Older Daughter and her husband brought one home from an Ikea trip — and 2-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable thinks it’s the best thing ever. He’ll run his toy cars and trains along the roads and is learning to point out such things as “cactus,” “whale,” “tent” and “soccer field.” And you have to love the rug’s global view. I mean, you’ve got a desert next to snow-covered volcanoes, with a high-rise city across the way flanked by a circus tent and an igloo being neighborly with an old-school hotel. And don’t forget the castle, the beach and the cozy little New England village — all accessible by your wheeled vehicle of choice, which in the Captain’s case usually is a John Deere tractor, Digger from Bob the Builder or either a Percy or Thomas train engine. The Captain’s parents got it for $14 and he’s already gotten like 500 times that in play value.  Plus, you’ve got instant room decor! It’s win-win-win. My favorite route is to start at the igloo, take a run straight up to the greenhouse, peek in at the castle, tour around the village square and then park at the soccer field. But your mileage may vary.

Art

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My son-in-law — 2-year-old Capt. Adorable’s daddy — is an artist and a high-school art teacher, which is why one of the Captain’s first words was, “Draw!” This also is why the Captain’s bathtub is an ever-changing gallery of 2-year-old-friendly art, thanks to crayons mades especially for bathtub scribbling. And as you can see, when there’s an artist in the family, the bathtub art gets elevated beyond the average non-artist-person’s scribbling. My son-in-law is one of the most talented and creative people I know — I mean, how many kids can take a bath surrounded by Elmo and “Goodnight, Moon”? There is a downside to living with an artist, however, according to Older Daughter. “When we three do Play-doh,” she said, sighing, “I make a dog. You know, a dog. With four feet and ears and maybe a tail. Then my husband out-Play-dohs me and makes a perfect West Highland White Terrier with a name and everything.” But she’s one up on me since I can’t even make a dog. I’m very good with snakes, though. And, luckily, the Captain so far is happy with all skill levels.

Bugs and Bones

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My laptop suddenly developed an annoying quirk of not letting me do anything until I’d signed up for some sort of anti-virus, anti-spam, pro-we’re-holding-your-computer-hostage-until-you-fork-over-$39.99 bug so I ran it over to my favorite computer folks for an emergency bug-dectomy. Luckily, Younger Daughter is Dayton, Ohio, for a competition  with the high-school percussion group she’s working with, so I’m borrowing her laptop, which she totally would let me do if she were here to ask. And of course there’s always the clunky old desktop, too. Remember back in the old days when the desktop was the only computer in the house and you had to sit right in front of where it was to use it???

Older Daughter’s had to sit down to do everything lately since she sprained/broke her ankle in spectacular fashion by falling in a hole their dog had dug in their backyard and has been hobbling around with a splint and crutches. But it’s not her fault, poor baby. Read my weekly newspaper column at http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20100416/ARTICLES/4165005 to find out who’s to blame.

Easter

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Hope everyone has a wonderful Easter weekend! And of course don't forget to smell the flowers.

Band Geeks — and Nashville, Tennessee

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In our house, we are Band Geeks. Both my two daughters were Band Geeks in high school, my younger daughter was a Band Geek in college and I was a supportive Band-Geek Parent for years. But you know you can hang up your “I’m a Proud Band Mom!” T-shirt and throw out recycle your calling lists but you can never entirely lose the Band Geekiness. It’s there, just waiting for a chance to resurface and turn you into someone who gives up free weekends for band competitions and says things such as, “I think I’ve got a spare vibraphone string in my purse.” It happened to me. It could happen to you. Read more at my weekly newspaper column, http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20100326/ARTICLES/3265000.

And while you’re clicking, check out Gwyneth Paltrow’s Part II of her trip to Nashville, Tennessee, at http://goop.com/newsletter/75/en/. GOOP is her newsletter/Web site and she usually writes from the I’m-a-famous-and-rich-movie-star-and-you’re-not-you-poor-things perspective. However, I was impressed with her Nashville Part I — she recommended several affordable and authentic Nashville spots for eating and drinking, whatever your beverage of choice. Part II looks at shopping and family activities and I’m on less solid ground here for seconding her suggestions. Except for Hatch Show Print, I’ve never been to any of the retailers she likes.  But that’s not surprising since the clearance rack at Belk’s is about as upscale as I get. Her choices for family fun, though — the Cheekwood Botanical Garden, the Frist art museum and the Adventure Science Center — get my vote, too.

Children

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Maybe Mommy won't notice the flower in my hand that I picked after she told me not to if I distract her with an adorably cute big ol' sloppy kiss. On her nose.

Recipes

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Although I’ve never liked any kind of meringue pie, I adore meringues — those crunchy bits of pillowy slow-baked egg-white goodness. Maybe it’s because my maternal grandmother always had a reused (I don’t think we would use the word “recycled” 40 years ago) coffee can full of them when we’d drive up from Tennessee to visit her and my grandpa in southern Illinois. I assume that with her Depression-honed frugalness, she made them from leftover egg whites — although I don’t remember her making anything especially yolk-centric. Anyway, to keep me from embarrassing her by buying four containers of store-made meringues at once, Younger Daughter has perfected her recipe and technique for homemade meringues. They’re so much better and better-for-you than store-bought. Her great-grandmother would be proud.

First, separate three eggs. The easiest way is to let the whites drip through your fingers into a bowl. Discard yolks or save for another recipe.

Add 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar to whites and beat until soft peaks form. Add 3/4 cup sugar 1 tablespoon at a time while beating until  stiff peaks form and it’s glossy.

 Then fold in 1/8 teaspoon vanilla extract and some grated vanilla bean. Put half egg-white mixture into a plastic gallon food-storage bag and cut one of the corners off. Squeeze dollops of the mixture onto a parchment- or wax-paper covered baking sheet. For chocolate meringues, add 1 1/2 tablespoon cocoa powder and mini chocolate chips to remaining egg-white batter and repeat. Bake at a low temperature — 225 degrees — for about one hour. They’ll be yummy but still a bit chewy. Then turn oven off and let sit overnight or for several more hours to dry out. Just remember to take them out of the oven before turning the oven on for something else. I’m just saying. Anyway, I could eat a whole pan of these at one sitting. They’re really easy and fun and have no fat in them whatsoever. And I still can taste the grandmother-love in them, along with daughter-love. That is one powerful combination.