My Obsession with Menu Planning

So my path to being an obsessive menu planner did not happen overnight. The seeds of it were planted when our first son was still a toddler and, while wanting to remain a stay-at-home Mom, I just worked 1 day a week as an RN to maintain my nursing license. However, between the babysitter who came to the house, and my husband multi-tasking diapers and Lego duty--my love for my crockpot was born to insure our son wasn't fed hotdogs and mac & cheese everytime I was gone. The other problem, is that I'm a slight health food nut---I like to make everything from scratch, I am fundamentally opposed to bacon--to the woeful chagrin of my husband. Another issue is we live "in the boonies". While there is a great grocery store in town, the prices for many items are much cheaper if I travel 40 minutes away. However, every busy Mom knows a shopping trip with that driving time can eradicate the better part of a day in no time. Enter two more bouncing baby boys, a decision to send all 3 boys to our Christian school, carpools, a few more hours at work, growing appetites, my husband's genetic high cholesterol that was resistent to traditional meds and a perfect storm was created. The final piece of straw that finally sealed my identity as an obsessive menu planner was our youngest son's kindergarten year. He was an October baby who tested "young" in some areas, but above average in other areas. The right decision for him that year was to homeschool him, and he joined his class in 1st grade at our Christian school. We subsequently found out about some vision/motor tracking issues that were distorting his test results--but that required some eye excercises and more responsibilities I needed to fulfill. Who has time to shop? And even a half day away from our homeschool curriculum to grocery shop, when I was already working a day to help pay private school tuition was just not feasible. I either needed to clone myself, or learn to streamline my families' menu and meal prep while still satisfying my inner desire to fulfill all the RDA requirements for all the vital nutrients daily. The piece de resistance came when I discovered Sams Club, where I already had a membership, has a free service called, "Click and Pull". I could actually electronically order up my grocery list in the solace of my home in the midst of reviewing phonograms and writing nursing policies on BLS renewal, have someone else shlepp my order to me and be in and out in 15 minutes or less. Genius! The only problem with buying that much food is you must plan it--or it will go to waste, and you must have a place to store it properly. Also, when you buy in bulk you must budget for it initially. When you buy a month's worth of food for 3 growing boys--4 count the hubs--you bet those dollar signs ring out, Ka-ching. I set to work. While the boys all quietly played Legos, interspersed with skirmishes over Lego guys that had their accessories stolen and hijacked to a sibling's "Lego shelf", homework, carpools, squirrel..oh yes..back to menu planning--I crafted 6-7 weeks of menus around our life. The premise was to stock up on basics and frozen items which I could store in a pantry area and large freezer, then I could make a quick trip to the store in town for meats on sale, fresh produce and milk on a weekly basis--which would only take about 30 minutes of time. If it worked I would save countless hours in travel, impulse buys would be eliminated, the dilemna about "what to cook" every night and the inevitable storm of chaos that surrounds the 5PM hour when homework, showers, drum practice, sports practice and telemarketing calls all occur would be solved. Additionally, if I stuck to raw bulk items, I could save a lot of money! If you notice I write in run on sentences frequently that is just how my brain works--it's a blog not a term paper--so you get the stream of conciousness necessity for my menu planning. Every season I change our menu. I look at my families' schedule and create meals around our needs. For example, this is what my schedule looks like now--the boys are 13,11 and 9 years old. I work Mondays and Fridays at the surgical center from 9-2PM. I drop the boys off at school and pick them up--it's just I'm not around during the day to premake anything for dinner--and we all know about that 5PM hour. Wednesdays I am a closer in the recovery room of the surgical center. On Tuesday afternoons I teach gym at our kids' school. And as a new undertaking, this fall I teach cross country on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays until 4:15. On Fridays for the next 2 months we have cross country meets. Oh, and last winter, on a whim I started a business making herbal soap, lotion and gift baskets and it's kind of surprisingly taken off so I frequently get orders I need to fill. So this is what my menu looked like this week: Sunday- I made a huge pork loin in the crockpot with potatoes and root veggies Monday- Shredded BBQ pork sandwiches using the leftover pork from Sunday. I carmelized a bunch of onions Sunday night and added a little cider vinegar and BBQ sauce to to the pork so it could "merry" throughout the day. Add bulky rolls of your choice and a nice salad and you have a wonderful quick dinner Tuesday- Lasagne (using ground turkey, lite Ricotta, spinach) and salad . I made the Lasagne Saturday because I looked ahead at my schedule and saw I would not have time Sunday or Monday to assemble this. Tuesday after cross country practice I came home, popped the lasagne in the oven and was able to hit the shower while the kids started homework. Then I made the salad while the boys started showering from practice. Isaac serendaded us to drum practice..it was a beautiful plan. Wednesday is always leftover cleanout extravaganza because I am a closer at the surgical center, in the recovery room. I don't usually leave until the last patient leaves, which is always unknown. Peter has to fly solo that night with homework etc, so I always make sure we have leftovers from the previous 3 nights they can graze on--plus no food wasted. I know the leftovers will be eaten by Wednesday. Thursday-Kielbasa, potato and black bean stew is in the crockpot. Black beans are a favorite--they have 7 grams of protein and 7 grams of fiber per serving. If I can put black beans in something I will. They are cheap, nutritious and so versatile. I love them. Also tonight I will get the bread machine going and make some whole wheat Italian bread and a salad. I use 1 pound of Kielbasa for a 6 quart crock of stew. It is more for flavoring and to give my carnivorous husband the inkling there is meat in this meal, however, I am counting on those beans to provide the bulk of protein. As a note I opened a GALLON of crushed tomatoes for this recipe and used 1/2 of it. That whole gallon cost me $2.20. In the grocery store I would be lucky to get 24 ounces of sauce with added sugar for that much--this has no sugar. Score. In a little while I will go pick up the boys, we'll all practice cross country and when I come home dinner will be done so I can devote my time to helping them with homework etc. Friday--Lemon seasoned Tilapia--which cooks quickly after cross country meets, sauteed green beans and carrots (frozen whole green beans and I precut whole carrots into matchstick size to toss in), rice and red beans (seasoned with a little paprika, chili powder) I also like this combo because a whole grain and a legume make a complete protein . Cook in chicken broth with fat skimmed that I made after I simmered a whole chicken from a quick Hannaford rotisserie chicken night. Saturday--is always homemade pizza and movie night. I break out the bread machine and make a homemade thin crust with at least half whole wheat flour. I always use unbleached King Arthur flour when I use white flour. Unbleached flour maintains more vitamins and is better for you. If you use strictly whole wheat you have to add gluten, so I just add enough white flour to help the crust rise. We add my own sauce--no sugar and veggies and a little mozarella cheese--much cheaper in bulk and easily frozen. We laze around, cuddle, talk about our week, watch a fun movie and eat pizza. Sunday is ready for another big slab of roast beast to start off the week. I've had many people ask me over the years why I plan my menu, how I do it, what is the benefit--so I decided to jot it down. I'll have more installments when I have time, but for now off to set the bread maker and prewash the lettuce for tonight's dinner. I hope when my kid's are grown they'll always remember no matter how busy life got, no matter what was going on, we always paused, ate dinner together, and finished our day in the haven of home and family.

Big Toothies In

I knew this day would come eventually. But like so many milestones--good or solemn occasions, it just snuck up on me. We were sitting in church today awaiting the annual spring cantata when I glanced over at my freckled nine year old and noticed his two front incisors, his "big teeth" were even. They had come in fully. Now you may not think that's a big deal--but it hit me like a jab in the side.

Logan was late to lose his teeth. He was 8 1/2 before his first tooth came out. Many a Christmas and birthday passed and he would just pray that he would lose his first tooth. When all his classmates' "big teeth" had come in, he was still sporting his baby teeth. While it caused him some distress, it was just fine with me. You see, Logan is my baby.

When Logan arrived, we knew he would be our last child. We already had 2 very active toddlers in the house and knowing out human limits, we believed our quiver was full. When I was just a few months along with Logan I went in for a routine ultrasound. Having gone through this a few other times, I found the tech to be a little quiet--careful with her words. I suspected something was wrong. When I asked if everything was ok, her curt reply was, "The doctor will contact you with the results". My heart sank, knowing that if everything was fine I wouldn't be getting a call like that.

The next day Peter was on a brief errand and I got a call from the midwife. She gave me the grave news that there was a chance something was terribly wrong. They had seen some indicators that our baby may have a Trisomy disorder--one that at best would allow him to survive 4 months or so after birth, hooked to a feeding tube and with a myriad of other health problems. We would have to travel to Dartmouth for some conclusive tests and special imaging to know for sure. The wait was harrowing. When Peter arrived home he found me slumped on the floor sobbing at the news.

Suddenly, all the dreams I had for our small brood were shattered. I was facing carrying a baby, loving it for 9 months--only to give him back to God after a very short time. The worst part was not knowing and having to continue on caring for the other kids in the meantime--not succombing to my grief. My faith was stretched and I pulled from lessons in faith I had learned in earlier years. I drank from a deep well of hope and bathed in the balm of prayer. Our friends and church rallyed around us and prayed us through--and they prayed for Logan.

Three weeks later the day arrived and we traveled to Dartmouth for the battery of tests needed to plan the future. Whatever the outcome we knew this child was a borrowed gift and our job was to love him for the time we were allowed to hold him. The hours that followed seemed to hold the course of our future in each tick of the clock and every test result revealed. I cannot tell you the sheer sobs of relief I felt as the 3D ultrasound revealed there were no signs of Trisomy defects. What it did reveal was a perfectly formed wonder--a gift from God.

From the time he was one year old I never had to worry about Legos being a choke hazard to Logan because he was too interested in building what his brothers were building. He draws detailed, imaginative pictures. He attempts to convince me on a weekly basis that he really doesn't have to go to school because he's going to grow up to be a Lego designer anyways--and afterall he already knows how to count money which is the only skill he'll need.

When Logan has recycling duty he frequently comes back with half the discards. On the journey to the basement he has designed a robot, a car, or a machine for doing homework from the various milk containers, cracker boxes, and discarded empty pineapple cans. He is the baby I relaxed with--allowing him to wear his Tigger costume for 3 days in a row if he wanted to-- even to the grocery store.

When I tuck Logan in we have a game we play. It starts out with, "I love you to the moon and back a gazillion times". Then, he replies with something he loves--like "I love you more than gummy worms". I respond with something I love---"I love you more than cheesecake" and so on and so on. One day as we were snuggling, Logan whispered in my ear, "I love you more than Legos". I knew I had arrived then.

When Logan finally lost his first tooth he was giddy. Before it was even ready to come out he was begging me to "get out the pliers" and help it along. He couldn't wait to grow up and get his big teeth. I was in no rush--the pliers stayed in the workshop and I cherished his toothless grins through freckled dimples--hands always busy and mind always creating something.

So you see, when I looked across the aisle and saw my baby with two even incisors--big toothies in, my heart sank. They weren't like that yesterday. Little by little, day by day they grow bigger and bigger. Even the baby grows up and will probably create new Lego sets for kids to play with and parents to step on in their barefeet. But for Logan--as he grows there is special significance of it for me. It is a reminder of the incredible mercy showered on us with his arrival. So many families do struggle with caring for a special needs child. It could have easily been our family too.

When I think about what could have been, and the miraculous gift we were given I am humbled and grateful. I know his big toothies had to come in---but somedays I wish they could stay little just a little longer--but at the same time how wonderful it is to see what God grows.

2010 Big Lake Half Marathon

2010 Big Lake Half Marathon This is the half marathon I'm running May 8th. coming up fast!

Spring

Spring


It rides on sunlit breezes,
And alights upon the trees,
It beacons buds to open wide,
And release their vital seeds.

It wafts among the earthy woodlands,
And stirs the creature’s sleep,
And moves them from dormant burrows,
Where winter, still, did keep.

It trills among the finch and robin,
As they spread their wings to flight,
And in the staccato rap of the woodpecker,
And owl, swooping aloft each night.

It trickles in the glades and streams,
That flow to rivers wide,
It laps the pebbles, trips o’er stones,
Oh onward, sea bound ride.

It nudges, stirs to action,
With a new domestic list—
“Till the garden, gather seeds,
And pick up winter’s cast off sticks.
Rake the lawn, dump the leaves,”
Until the chores--
Daylight savings exceeds.

And in the damp, pungent soil at last,
It beacons hands while the sparrows sing,
And the rains trickle past,
And the flower’s blooms amassed,
Fresh sunlit beams are cast,
Winter’s hold, at last, is dashed.
Alas! It is s spring!

And in the hazy, twilight hour,
When the peepers start their song,
I can sit-- warm, tired, and contented,
Amphibious choral work accented,
And drift in the peaceful slumber sing,
And rest, dear heart,
For it is spring!

Phantom Smiley Faces

Almost every morning after I get out of the shower there is a little boy outside in the hall doing a potty dance, waiting patiently for his turn. I smile, kiss him on the forehead, and go into our bedroom to finish my morning routine. Five minutes later when I return to the bathroom to comb my hair and finish getting ready I'm almost always greeted by artwork on the steamy mirror and windows. They are phantom smiley faces.
When this first started, I thought it was cute--but after several days it got a little annoying trying to get ready for work and apply eyeliner through smeared smudgy mirrors. I wiped them off and almost opened my mouth to put a kabosh on the whole thing. But something made me stop. I pictured myself 20 yrs from now--all the days I would miss of phantom smiley faces to greet me. I realized I would miss that more than I missed having a clear mirror to primp.
It isn't always smiley faces that greet me. Sometimes it's pirates with eyepatches and peg legs--all scrawled in the steam of the mirror and window. Even after the steam dissipates the little oily smudgy outlines of their artwork remains. Today I was greeted by a smiley face with thick eyebrows that seemed to be winking at me. He had a thick, broad nose and jolly fat cheeks. He was smirking--not exactly smiling.
The primary artist of these phantom smileys has gotten his older brother in on the act on several occasions--so that I am greeted with whole magnificient scenes playing out on the bathroom mirror. Usually there is some kind of battle or dramatic event unfolding. Nothing like a shot of testosterone inspired art to jump start your morning.
I've come to appreciate these little pictures. It's a morning greeting. But sadly, I fear the time I will enjoy these is as fleeting as the steam. I know one day they will stop, that Logan will be more interested in primping in the mirror and fixing his thick curly hair than drawing pictures for me. I'm so glad I didn't stop him. I want to enjoy this while it lasts. It's one of those intanglible things no camera can capture--it has to be locked up safely in your memory for another day--and someday I will look back and smile about trying to put my eyeliner on through phantom smiley faces.

The Potter

The Potter’s fingerprints are on me since my first breath was
Drawn,
He molds me and He grows me,
Shapes me for His sovereign plan
His tender care is faithful e’en when I fail to understand.

Though the fiery storms of life pelt me,
I still tarry in His hand,
For within His kiln I know all dross will vanish
In His plans.

For all the joys, triumphant days, and dreams realized,
For all the sorrows, disappointments, tears in my eyes,
He counted each and every one,
And through it all He knew,
How many hairs upon my head remained--He always knew.

So when my spirit stirs within me and my restless soul is weary,
When I want to shirk the task before me or complain my lot seems dreary,

I remember He who holds me and has pressed me in His palm.
I recall His loving mercy and His grace I called upon,
For the vessel surely cannot, to the Potter say,
“I do not want to fulfill your plans for me today”.

For the Potter’s fingerprints are on me and He shapes me in my place,
And one blessed day in glory I’ll meet my Potter face to face.

The Miles

I started running in September. Finally, all my kids would be in school and after a decade of neglect, failed attempts at excercise and taking care of myself, I knew I had to repair my broken house. I would finally have time to myself on a regular basis when I wasn't commuting to work or having to pay a babysitter. I began running. I started out slow--just one mile. My heart skipped into palpitations and my breathing got so labored I thought I was having the "big one". I learned what has become true of every run. The first mile is the hardest. Before too many days passed I increased my distance and ran 2 miles. It was getting easier. I had time to myself to pray, think, enjoy nature, the sun--the wind, and my feet were carrying me--counting out the miles one stride at a time. A few weeks ago I began training for my first 5K and with the added incentive I bumped my distance up to 3 miles. What had seemed like a glass ceiling burst open and within a few weeks of breaking that barrier I am now up to 6 miles. I look forward to my runs, I plan them out googling maps and new routes on the computer. I like to time myself to see if I can beat my last time. I wondered as I lay there one night why it's so gratifying and why I have so quickly embraced this new endeavor.

I began thinking of motherhood--my profession now for more than a decade. As with so many things, the benefits and rewards of motherhood are not immediate. It is often a thankless, repetitive job. Don't get me wrong--I wouldn't trade it for anything, however for over a decade now besides working outside the home a few hours a week as a nurse, that has been my full time job. There are sweet moments of victory, when your child puts into practice something you have taught them, or displays kindness to a sibling. There are moments of blessing, and closeness, and savoring togetherness. But, there are lots of moments of, "Did you....", "Remember......", and "Don't........". There are lots of messes, there are lots of hurt feelings to soothe. The fruits of your labor and toil of your efforts are not always evident. That's not the case with running.

When I run, the harder I work the further and faster I go immediately. When I run, within 1 hour I get to reap the reward of my labor--I get home, feeling exhilarated, having enjoyed time to myself and the beautiful outdoors. There are very few things in my life with immediate results like that. I am not a patient person. Motherhood has stretched me and made me grow in ways I never thought I could. I have learned so much from my kids, and I have been forever changed, I think, for the better. Running has given me joy. I don't need immediate results on the home front--I get that when I pound the pavement. With my kids in school now, there is so much beyond my control--they need to put their own effort forth. As much as I try to help, in many ways they are accountable for those results now. Running is within my grasp.

Some seeds take a while to bloom. They have a tough outer layer that the elements must break down before the rain and the sun and warm and soften the tender plant awaiting inside. Some seeds sprout almost immediately and everytime you visit the garden, it seems there is more growth to admire. A good gardner usually has both types of plants growing in their garden. A good gardner tries to plan their harvest for a good steady and even crop. I have been tending my seedlings that will take awhile to bloom for many years now. While I have enjoyed working the soil, and tending these little plants--I am so glad to be able to plant something that will bloom in a very short time. It will give me great joy, and keep my heart at peace, and allow me space and time to talk to God about my other crop that's growing. While I know they won't bloom immediately, I'm certain that with tender care, and a well rested and content gardener they will become the beautiful plants God intended.