Saying good-bye to Summer

Thursday evening I couldn't get out of the office fast enough. With the promise of a day off on Friday, and plenty of fun activities scheduled for the last weekend before school started, I nearly ran to my car once the clock hit 5. I've learned to accept the statement, "if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans," even when it comes to the little things such as the weekend schedule. Flexibility and patience are all part of the parenting game. So, when it took nearly all morning to finish picking up and cleaning the apartment rather than the short hour I had anticipated only to find that the cost of the Pirate exhibit at the Science Center was twice what I had expected I quickly dug into the bag of available resources that St Louis has to offer for families searching for a fun activity. It didn't take long to remember we hadn't been to the Zoo in ages, or that most of the local schools were in session on that gorgeous afternoon leaving the kids and I crowd free! Score! So after a quick PB & J, chips and milk lunch we jumped in the car and headed down town. I knew with all of the St Louis Students back in School and summer vacation a distant memory for most, my drive home would be miserable unless I was well outside the city limits by 3:30, and I had to make a stop at the CH 9 Studio after 2:00 to pick up a flip cam. My tweet from my South entrance parking spot stated " Parking $11, drinks $5, an afternoon at the Zoo with my kids, Priceless!" I guess it was the $11 for parking that got me, but I'd pay it again when it meant making it into the Zoo with energy to spare compared to hiking a mile before the gates are even in sight. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The afternoon was simply gorgeous after a week of cooler temperatures had finally blessed St Louis I was reveling in the warm sun and cool breeze, while being grateful that Mother Nature had decided to keep the humidity at bay for an extended period. And, I'd been right in assuming the crowds would be light as well, score two for mom! With a hand held in each of mine swinging excitedly we skipped from the parking lot through the south entrance and over to the first map available. Aware of the brief hour and a quarter left to enjoy our visit, I suggested we choose one section of the enormous layout that is the St Louis Zoo to visit that day. Not an easy decision when you want to see the lions and tigers and bears...(oh my) all in one day, and hopefully talk to a few elephants as well. Animals that do not share the same habitat or the same corner of the Zoo. The elephants won for this trip and as the "River's Edge" habitat was the closest to our location, and held several of their favorite friends, including Gloria the Hippo, (I'm sure Disney appreciates what it has done for the support of endangered species), we headed off in search of elephant tracks.

I have to say that I've been blessed. I don't know what I did to deserve it, and this is not me bragging, but I have two of the greatest kids I've ever known. Of course I'm tremendously biased, but the reminders from friends and family at how well behaved they are tells me I'm not imagining things. Their good behavior makes for many special moments in our lives. This afternoon was one of them. We followed one set of cemented footprints to the next. Stopping at each viewing station to see one after another African animal enjoying a lazy afternoon. Even the hyena was sprawled out in a cave snoozing. The kids tried to imitate his laugh to invoke a response, but to no avail. Lunchtime at the anteater pen found us in stitches as we watched the large gentle creatures search the young employee who had come out with the dish of food, eager to get to his meal. The long snout missed the dish entirely and seemed to believe his food could be found somewhere on the employee's face, in her pockets, or down her shirt.

We held hands, by choice, for most of our walk, swinging them back and forth as we'd hum through our Disney repertoire. Or they would run a few paces ahead of me as I stopped to snap a photo or two and muse over the odd behavior of an animal, but they never ran out of site and the slow jog always kept them well within my sight. Even our short detour through a small gift shop proved to be a fun experience. A few things were admired and remarked on,"oh mom, I think I need a set of binoculars!" Or "sssssssssssss oooohhh the snake is going to get you!" and even "oooh, ooooh, ooh, we NEED an umbrella Mom!" But my, gently put, "not today guys" and "maybe another time," were taken well and the desired items put down and forgotten. But such good behavior deserves a reward and my stomach appreciated the ice cream I did consent to buy for each of us. Two Frog Spit Push Pops, and a Chocolate Eclair bar. Guess which one I had. The ice cream arrived after we had finally made our way past the elephants, through the rivers edge, and back to our starting point.

Our stop to admire the 8 Asian Elephants included an informative chat with a helpful Zoo employee which fascinated me, but the kids were ready to finish up shortly after hearing me discuss the gestation period for a female elephant. It may have been the look of amazement and horror on my face when I learned that a female carries her baby for 22 months before giving birth and often longer, but they didn't want to hang around much after that. They were excited to learn that the Zoo will be expecting a new baby next spring though. We felt a piece of elephant hide and the kids noticed how thick it was, and were impressed that it had come from an elephant that once lived at the Zoo. Miguel carried on a detailed conversation with George, our Zoo Employee, about the size and shape of the elephant tooth George was carrying. Finally Anna reminded me we still had a few more animals to see before leaving and we headed on to watch the hyena snoozing and make a quick stop at the entrance gift shop that I had promised them. They even were happy to stay within our budget and picked a small animal carved from stone as a memento for our fun afternoon. Anna chose a frog that I gladly would carry in my pocket every day, and Miguel found a turtle that suited him well. Or, that could be my wanting to provide him with a reminder that slow and steady can be beneficial sometimes, rather than the energizer bunny state all day. A state I was enjoying the absence of that afternoon. In his defense though, I've been grateful to have a reminder that energy is a state of mind for both of us and he often rubs off on me when I need it most. Our gifts were purchased quickly and we were on our way to Ch 9 in perfect time, huge smiles painted on all of our faces. I'd never enjoyed the Zoo so much!

I was reminded once again how special they are when they sat quietly in the Presidents office waiting patiently for me to get the information and camera I needed. A fantastic day over all, and we even successfully avoided traffic going home! A fantastic way to end the summer.

A new year, a new state of mind?

Summer has come and gone, and with it any thoughts of vacation with my kids. Miguel's first day of second grade was today. I considered putting a leash on him to keep him in the car long enough to drive up to the front entrance for drop off. Echoes of "I'll get out here mom, really it's ok I can walk" began from the pre-school building where both he and his sister were shuffled into my car from my mom's, whom they drove in to school with, as I had to drive out to Weldon Spring at 6:45am for work only to turn around and drive back into Town and Country to drop Miguel off and take Anna to her open house. Yes, I could have let my mom take Miguel in, but there's something special about that first day of school, and my mom instinct wasn't going to let me miss out on it. And, although I intelligently managed to leave all of Anna's supplies that were supposed to be brought to open house at home this morning, in my rush to get PPA materials together and Miguels things in order and get out the door in time, we still had to stop by to check in with her teachers. Yes, I can honestly say the chaos of the school year has begun. I'm simply praying that I can establish some order to the chaos this year. I still managed to swing home on the way back to the office to stuff a few toys, books, and art supplies into a backpack, which nearly toppled her over when I put it on Anna's shoulders, to keep her entertained today.

It's a bit unnerving to realize that your day has to start at 4:30 am if you have any interest in accomplishing everything that needs to be done during the course of the day, let alone what you would like to fit in to the already crammed schedule. I'm a morning person, thank heavens, but when the day doesn't end until nearly 12 am every day waking up a mere 4 and a half hours later can seem tedious five days a week. I sadly acknowledged that TV will be sacrificed this year. A fact I'm not ready to fully grasp yet, but is being forced upon me this week. I wish I could say I was one of those people who never watch TV, I'm sure it's healthier, and I honestly don't watch as much as the next guy, but I'm a huge movie buff. And unfortunately I've gotten hooked on a few weekly programs as well. I am afraid I will not sacrifice PBS's Masterpiece Theater, it will have to be satisfied with becoming the back ground noise I have a bad habit of relying on to keep me company once the kids are out for the night.

I'd made a concentrated effort to limit my activities last year in an attempt to focus on the kids more, but volunteer activities, work with the PPA, my full time job, my goal to finally train my horse, and the need for a dance program for the Pre-Middle school levels at Prin has definitely made for a busier schedule this year. With each new activity I'm finding ways to include the kids and introduce them to the many possibilities available for them. Chores are a thrill already. Don't ask me why they beg to follow me around our riding arena flinging piles of horse manure out into the pasture, or why hours spent weeding the garden is equal to an afternoon at the playground. But when I get the pleasure of their company at volunteer events and repeatedly hear how well behaved and helpful they are I smile and figure I must be doing something right. They're familiar with the hectic schedule now and keep me smiling with the never ending supply of energy that seeps from their pores. 

I'm sorry to see summer gone now, knowing I missed spending more time with them while they were free of school, but I believe we'll all be more appreciative of the time we do spend together now since it's less frequent. The busier I am the more aware I become of the need to "stop and smell the roses," as the saying goes. Or in this case, stop to enjoy a good book while cuddled up with two precious kids.

Cooking

Saturday mornings growing up found the smells of home made oatmeal bread, a selection of scrumptious fruit pies, and a cake or two wafting their way from the kitchen through every nook and cranny of the rest of the house. My mother never ceased to amaze when it came to her baking talents. Dinner was always a treat as her creative and artistic talents seem to work just as well with a human pallet as a painters. Spices were blended in a perfect union with pasta, vegetables, and whatever meat was on the menu. It was always a masterpiece. And I couldn't complain of boredom when it came to dinner time.

Somewhere along the way I missed out on the creative gene, and cooking gene. It took marriage and a pregnancy, as well as the desire to resist starvation, to push me into begging my mother to pass along some of her well kept secrets. Including the oatmeal bread I had had for lunch every day from the time I was old enough fall in love with peanut butter and jelly, and a pastry crust that would melt in your mouth. The rest of her teaching left me to fend for myself. A tactic that left much to be desired, especially in my cooking. A pregnant, young woman who's never cooked anything besides macaroni and cheese is not the first nominated to feed the family. First of all my taste buds were on a different kick each day, making spice combinations entertaining. But apparently the statement, "the chicken's in the fridge, you know where the spices are, and check the garden for veggies," was all I needed to get the creative juices moving. I also learned that foodnetwork.com was a fantastic resource for some of the greatest recipes available. It wasn't the originality of my mom's cooking but it was edible, and that was more than I could say for any previous attempt in front of a stove. 

Single parenthood is probably one of the greatest motivators. I've found myself forced into cooking to spare a dime or two. Packaged dinners lose their appeal night after night and there's a limit to my beans and hot dog consumption. Long days in the office don't leave me with much desire to spend a great deal of time cooking by the time I get home and the minimal time allotment between arriving home and bedtime for the kids definitely limits the possibilities. Or so I thought. And then it finally hit me. 

Cooler temperatures definitely make cooking more appealing, at least in my mind. Lack of a/c in our apartment doesn't tempt anyone to set the oven to a scorching 400 degrees when the temperature inside is already near 100. But this last week has been a welcome relief and the evenings a blessing. So, there I was standing in front of the freezer staring into its abyss, praying for inspiration of some sort, the bags of frozen chicken, tilapia, salmon and assorted vegetables were hardly whispering their encouragement. But I was determined, and determination prevailed. I grabbed the salmon, and broccoli and opened the refrigerator and began grabbing an assortment of ingredients that I prayed would blend well. And miracle of miracles they did! God was definitely on my side that night. And believe me the prayers didn't cease until the last forkful was eaten. 

Water set to boil, TJ's Garlic and basil linguine ready to go, broccoli in a microwave safe dish with butter, chopped pecans, butter, salt and pepper and set aside, and salmon set in a dish with lemon, salt, lemon pepper, sliced button mushrooms, and Gorgonzola cheese crumbled on top and stuck in the oven for about 10 minutes at 375. Lord be praised it worked! I couldn't have been happier. The pasta was perfect with a light touch of olive oil and some salt and pepper while I'd managed to steam the broccoli to the appropriate tenderness and the fish had absorbed all of the subtle flavors of the cheese and mushrooms.I was so thrilled I shared my success with my parents later and they were impressed. 

 I guess the crash course in cooking finally payed off. Faith in my ability to keep my children well fed has been restored, or rather initiated. I'm anticipating many delightful evenings during the cooler months spent in the kitchen experimenting with a few old favorites and creating some new ones as well. Check back to find out how it all goes.  

Thoughts from an Early Morning

Early this spring a morning unfolded around me that took me to a different time and place. A bit of a hopeless romantic, the mystical and magical have always fascinated me. But it wasn't solely the storybook atmosphere that rolled in with the deep fog hovering patiently over our farm, but a faint reminder of the home I grew up in and memories of summers spent on the coast of Maine. True, I would not have been surprised had a leprechaun popped his mischievous little head out from behind the hazy pink redbud tree in our pasture, or found a fairy flitting from one delicate wild flower to the next. But as I stood in the arena leaning precariously against the pitchfork, only half way done with my work, gazing over the freshly green pasture blurred by the drifting fog I seem to be ushered half way across the country to a rocky coast in Maine, where that same fog covered the incoming tide, while waves lapped invitingly at my feet. The crisp breeze sliding over the landscape guiding the stubborn fog across the water ran its long cool fingers through my hair that morning while I stood in the arena, reinforcing my departure from a farm in the Midwest into the recesses of my memory. The salty aroma of the ocean invaded my nose while I listened to the cry of seagulls searching for a tasty morsel. A fog horn from a nearby lighthouse bellowed its cautionary call. I was lost for the moment, remembering a simpler time, a childhood where treasures were found after a roaring storm had finally receded, and summertime was spent with family. A childhood replaced by worries of adulthood; job security, finance, and finishing the lengthy to do list. But for a brief moment as I watched the fog play across the hilly pasture, I was a child again, stepping gingerly across the barnacle strewn tide pools searching for treasure as a cool breeze beat at my open sweatshirt and pushed the morning fog out of sight while the lobster boats floated out into the newly brilliant morning. 

A nudge from a soft nuzzle brings me home again and I stare into warm brown eyes wondering where I've been. "I'm here, boy" I reassure my loving horse. He seems to get the message but follows closely behind as I finish my chores. 

Wedding Weekend Take 2

If I didn't know any better I may be convinced that I'd been thrown into the first scene of 27 Dresses, with a few small adjustments. No, I didn't have two weddings on the same night, and I was only involved in one by association, and even more unfortunate is the lack of any James Marsden character in my whirlwind weekend. No dashing, events columnist to despise while he sweeps me off my feet. But, there was plenty of dashing and running about; Chesterfield to Weldon Spring, Weldon Spring to Chesterfield for the marathon errand runs, Chesterfield to St Louis, St Louis to Webster Groves , a minor detour down 44 East on the way to Webster Groves; which, if you are at all familiar with St Louis County, you would know is the wrong direction to be going if you wish to be in Webster Groves from St Louis. Especially if you happen to be traveling southbound down Kings Highway from Lindell towards 44, (first of all you can't turn right onto 44 E from that direction in the first place, and secondly you need to get on 44 West to get to Webster Groves from St Louis anyways.) It's amazing what one small typo in the directions can do to your travel time. You can't expect the brides family to get everything right, there's far too many other things to be concerned about. In all honesty I can't complain, it gave me a chance to learn my way around the city more. Then from Webster Groves, finally home only to be up and at it again the next day. After a noble attempt to clean up the disaster, resembling the aftermath of a tornado's direct hit, that I happen to call my apartment; the sad result of single parenthood and a tragically chaotic schedule, I inevitably lost track of time and end up racing through a frigid shower, a habit I've become far too acquainted with during this heat, as my apartment is still minus any air conditioning, run the usual indecisive battle with my pitiful excuse for a wardrobe, slap on a bit of makeup, order my exhausted and starving children into the car and rush off to Creve Coeur for the second ceremony of the weekend.

Missing a chunk of one of my closest friends wedding ceremony is not something I had planned on, but was unfortunately unavoidable. Nevertheless, what I did get to see was beautiful, as was the bride, both Friday and Saturday. The kids and I found a space at the back available and ducked in a slight 15 minutes late, during the ministers brief and appropriate speech on the duties of each spouse to the commitment of marriage. A few jokes even brought giggles from the over 100 guests. The bride was radiant, had she been any more brilliant, rays of sunlight would have shot from her finger tips and each elegantly placed strand of hair. Not to be outdone the groom appeared as if he would be capable of flight at any moment. Cloud 9 appeared much closer to earth in any case. The reception held at the charming Landings at Spirit of St Louis Golf Course was delightful. A bit short of extra space but it suited the happy couple perfectly. A conversation with a woman who serves as a teacher with my friend asked if the bride could look any happier, and noted that the smile which seemed at risk of splitting her face in two could be any bigger. I smiled and replied that she deserved every moment of happiness. Unfortunately I was not to share in the festivities of the rest of the evening. After a very full and active previous afternoon the kids were a bit antsy and found it hard to stay calm. My plan to drive them the short two minutes home and return to the party was crushed once I discovered that the road home was closed and the detour took me past a mile of traffic that I would have to sit in to return. Not how I had intended on spending my afternoon. Ditching the torture instruments, disguised as the shoes I had chosen to wear sealed the deal, and I remained home with the kids.

 The late arrival was only a challenge at Saturday's ceremony. As the mother of the flower girl and ring bearer at Friday's wedding, I had a bit of a responsibility to be at the church on time, and we barely made it. But, make it we did, and the elegant ceremony that unfolded before the many guests was a treat beyond measure for me. Watching my two gorgeous children dressed in their finest, behaving as a lady and gentleman ought to, couldn't have made me more proud. I never knew two children to be so still or quiet for so long. If you are at all familiar with my kids you know that as dear as they are, they are not ones to sit still long or stay quiet. Not rambunctious or out of control but their energy supply seems to slowly increase through the course of the day rather than diminish. A feat I wish I could chemically duplicate and bottle for sale.

Friday's wedding found me perched on a square of pew half the size of a hallmark card, because the ushers neglected to save my seat in the front row, while I watched my angels perform their wedding duties beautifully. Despite the poor seating arrangement, it was impossible not to enjoy the setting. The church, very tastefully chosen, was truly elegant. Complete with graceful stained glass windows and flying buttresses, it was Swiss chocolate for the eyes. The service paralleled the setting in grace, sophistication and elegance. But, I wouldn't have expected any less from my friend who has earned maturity beyond her years. My precarious perch was eagerly abandoned as soon as was politely possible to be replaced by a more adequate piece of seat for the hour following the service, while my children surprised me again by patiently waiting through one family portrait after another until their turn in front of the lens arrived. I even managed to squeeze into two pictures myself with the bride, groom and smaller members of the bridal party. The reception following was a taste of the traditional, with the brides personal touch. Sinatra, Buble, Martin and Crosby provided the appropriate atmosphere during a fine dinner, while the upbeat mix following our meal kept guests movin' and groovin' on the dance floor for several hours. The bride was glowing, and her new husband looked the picture of pride and joy. The family couldn't have been happier either.

Watching someone who has become more of a sister rather than a friend marry a man she adores and makes her happier with every passing day, is one of life's greatest joys. A man you know will do everything in his power to make her happy, and wants to see your friend and sister thrive as an individual. A man who will love her with every fiber of his being forever after. So can be said for both of my dear friends this weekend. I couldn't have chosen better men for either of them, upright, supportive, understanding, respectful, honest, and loving to no end.

Okay, so really there wasn't much about my weekend that resembled the movie, except for the running about, and that was done by me without any mad dress swaps en route. What I did get was the opportunity to watch two of my best friends start down the road on the exciting journey of marriage. I couldn't have been more pleased to be a part of this precious moment in their lives, mad dashing and all