Mom's needs / Kid's needs

I spend far too much time cooking.

But, I like giving my kid's homecooked meals.

I wish my kids had more cooking skills, but they don't seem to be interested in cooking, or helping me cook. They just like to hang out in the kitchen while I am cooking.

I have made the kitchen warm and inviting. Candles. Relaxing music. Happy voices. But helpers disappear quickly. I often feel like the Little Red Hen.

I haven't seen much cooking interest in my kiddos except for Kee who sometimes makes us Belgian waffles on Saturday mornings. Do you know what it is like to wake up to Belgian waffles made by your teenager? It's the best feeling in the world.

Notwithstanding, I still have two problems -- me wanting less kitchen work + kids needing a boost in their kitchen skillz.

Here's my potential solution. I'll let you know how it goes.

Each kid is in charge of dinner one day a week.

Jee -- Tues
Kee -- Wed
Vee -- Thurs
Aee -- Fri

I get Saturdays as usual (and we often eat out, yeah!) and I like cooking on Mondays (one of those cook-ahead-on-busy-day meals). Eee gets Sundays as always and he does a great job.

I tried the new potential solution tonight for the first time. As I explained it to Jee, I could see the resistance building in his eyes. He did not want another chore. So I said, "But, think about it. You'll get to pick whatever you want for dinner."

His eyes lit up and I think we have a deal.

Right now there is chicken & pasta on the stove, cornbread in the oven and a salad will be made closer to dinner time.

Why didn't I think of this sooner? I hope it works.

Follow-up on Knitting & Science

Jee came home from his first class saying:

Mom, when you knit, you have to be really mellow. If you are tense, you hold the yarn too tight. So, relax. Everything's going to be OK. Just go like this... (showing me how to knit)

The next morning when he prepped for school, he put a ball of yarn in his backpack feeding towards the needles in his hands, so he could knit while walking to school.

Aee responded to her Science class like this:

Mom, I LOVE my science teacher. She is so nice. She said that understanding science will help me understand the world. And I love the world. I love science. I love my teacher. (Initiate hug sequence)

Sigh.

It's great when it all works out.

Welcome to the 21st century

It's the start of a new semester for my kids and that means new after-school classes. I just realized that for today Jee (male) is going to Knitting class (and he is So Psyched!) and Aee (female) is going to Science class (she begged & begged for that class over all others).

I worry, for good reason often, that my kids have a too-traditional parent set and that my/Eee's role model will make it harder for my kids in the long-run.

Today's little classes are a bit comforting. There was no talk of "this is for boys/girls" when they picked their afterschool classes. They are pursuing their interests. Period.

Scratches

Every now and then, out of the blue, the cat launches himself across the room and onto someone's backside.

If you hear a scream coming from our home, it's probably, "YEEOWCH! There are 20 cat claws spread into new little holes in my back and bum at this moment and he's not letting go!"

It's the weirdest thing. It's like temporary cat insanity. He forgets for a minute that he's just a 20 pound housecat and for a moment thinks he's the lion chasing down a bit of prey in the jungle.

Yowch.

Then the spell is broken and he looks up at you with his perpetually surprised and innocent eyes.

TCI, temporary cat insanity.

Reading through the teacher's tears

You know how elementary teachers usually have one advanced chapter book that they read to the children usually after lunch when the kids are in that sleepy digestive mood? The purpose is to help children get accustomed to sophisticated story structures that are beyond their current reading ability. It builds the mental constructs of literacy quite nicely.

So, Aee's teacher let me know this morning, "I was doing Read Aloud for the class and near the end the story is so touching... I started crying and couldn't get through the book so I asked your daughter to read. She sat on my chair and finished the chapter while I dried myself off."

I could easily picture that. Aee has the steely nerves of a surgeon -- she would have grit her teeth and read loudly and clearly so all the children could hear the end of the story.

My boys

It seems like no matter what ickiness is going on in my life, if someone asks me about my kids, my face lights up and I drift into happyland. For example, a few days ago, I was working with a friend who is helping me think through some Big Picture issues. The conversation contained very little happiness in it. She asked about the kids and, you guessed it, my face lit up.

I told her about how that morning I had time to make big boys a yummy breakfast and we talked in the car on the way to seminary. The stars were out; the boys' hair was fuzzy in that fluffy-squirrel sort of way; the scents in the car were comfortingly scrumptious as they slurped their way through several slices of homemade French toast and fresh orange juice with a hint of Madagascar vanilla.

When I got home, I got a steaming hot shower that eased the tension out of my muscles.

Then I sat down at the table with my two youngest and played a few games, did homework, enjoyed their chipper little laughs and their funny stories. We dressed warmly then walked to school, stopping at the park on the way to fly a few paper airplanes we had made while still at the breakfast table. We talked about each plane's aerodynamic construction. As the little ones launched their planes off the "balcony" spot at the park, we analyzed each plane's roll, pitch, and yaw. I thrilled to hear them using the real terminology.

So, if you ever see me looking sad, ask about my kids. I see so much goodness in them, can't help but smile.

Batching and Chunking

Friends ask me often, "How do you get so much done?"

To which I usually reply: "What are you talking about???"

I usually feel as if I am letting the sand-dust of time slip through my fingers day after day.

But last Friday I did a get a bit of reward for my hard work. Using various business strategies, I chunked (breaking tasks into do-able chunks) and batched (putting like tasks together in batches) my way to Task Completion.

In a 3 hr time frame I needed to:

* feed my kids a healthy dinner, prep to clean-up
* get in a good, full one hour workout at the YMCA
* do all Christmas present shopping for the kids and the kids' presents for each other

Hum.

I drove the kids to a store that had only high-quality gear, a Mom & Pop shop with great taste. I gave each child a notepad and pencil so during the 7 min drive to the store, the kids all brainstormed for what they wanted for Christmas.

When we got to the store, I took one child at a time around the store, had him/her review his/her siblings' lists, picking out presents for each sibling and their dad. We dropped the presents in a basket behind the counter and presto, about 45 min later, all presents had been acquired. I purchased them, asked the staff to wrap them all, and the big boys walked the little kids across the street to Amelia's, an all-organic super cool health food diner, just like I would make at home if I had a few hours to prep the food.

While the kids were happily munching (no worries -- the big ones are more than capable of watching the little ones, probalby even more protective than I am), I ran, yes, r-a-n over the YMCA, got in a good sweaty 45 min and r-a-n back to Amelia's. We picked up our neatly wrapped gifts and headed home with everyone in their proper condition -- sweaty mama, children with happy bellies and a big ol' bag full of presents.

Sigh.

As the kids carried the bags into the house, I thought to myself, "You know, I could have spent weeks driving all over town to different stores agonizing over what to get for each present..."

Nah!