Ode to the Perfect Summer Salad

Shake and shake the ketchup bottle.
First none will come...
And then a lottle.

That has absolutely nothing to do with the Perfect Summer Salad, but since it's been going through my head since I read Code Yellow Mom's blog (and her ensuing posts on Ketchup), I thought I'd share it.

Since the summer is shaping up nicely - despite the fact that we're burning a fire in the wood stove today (I get chilled easily...), I'm looking forward to more of my favorite summer meals. Barbecuing on the grill. Pasta Salad. Fresh Fruit. Fresh Veggies. Less inside mess. In our house, we believe in cooking outside as much as possible during the summer. There are two reasons for this - and neither of them have anything to do with the environment. The first is that we don't have a stove in our house. We took it out to install an antique wood cookstove - that's not currently attached to the wall. The second is that it's cheaper to cook outside than it is in. And I'm cheap.

One of my friends called me tonight to ask for a summer recipe. It's a tried and true pasta salad that is perfect for entertaining. It makes a TON of salad, and has a good blend of fruits and meat. Not to mention, it's D. Licious. Should you choose to make this salad, be prepared to pass out the recipe - and to eat a lot...

Perfect Pasta Salad

3 c. shell pasta - cooked according to package directions
4 c. cooked, diced chicken meat
2 (16.5 oz) cans pineapple tidbits, drained (drink the juice)
2 c. diced apples - any flavor, although tart is best
2 c. diced celery
1/2 c. finely chopped red onion
1/2 c. (each) chopped red and green peppers
2 c. red grapes (cut them in half, they won't run when you're trying to eat them)
2 (8 oz) cans water chestnuts, drained
1 small jar pimento (they only come in small here...)
1 1/2 c. cashews

Dressing:
1 c. mayonnaise
1 c. Prepared Coleslaw Dressing

In a really large bowl, combine all ingredients except cashews and dressing. Just before serving, toss the dressing in with the pasta mix and add the cashews. This is delicious the next day too.

I first had this salad at a wedding reception... I took some home with me (the hostess was my Mother in Law - it was acceptable to take left-unders home...), and then proceeded to eat nothing else for the next week. It was, indeed, that good. This is saying a lot for me, since I do NOT eat left-unders very often. It's like licking your plate to prove that the food was good.

I realize this is not much of an ode - since the definition of an ode has something to do with singing, but I'm pretty sure those who eat it will sing its praises... hence, the ODE. Enjoy!

NOT a Lazy Mom

"It is a Lazy Mom who cleans up after her Children."

It was those words that greeted me when I walked into a class on teaching your children to work. And my first thought was, "Hey! Them's fighting words there!" And then I started to listen. This was, after all, a class on teaching your children HOW TO WORK. (Those can also be fighting words, depending on the house and the children.)

I learned to work at a very early age. I'm not sure WHAT that age was, but I have distinct memories of hiding in the grape arbor eating all the strawberries that I was supposed to be weeding and thinking that I was so smart because Mom couldn't see me shirking my work. What I didn't know at the time was that the second floor kitchen window provided the PERFECT view into the grape arbor, and I wasn't really hiding. Mom could see EVERYTHING. That little story aside, I am truly grateful that I got in trouble for not working and that my parents insisted that I learn how.

Having children of my own, the struggle comes in how do I teach them to pick their own toys up and help keep the house clean without feeling like the Wicked Witch of the East (I would say West, but I just went to see WICKED last night, and my view on her Royal Greenness has changed) vs It's a WHOLE lot EASIER to send them outside to play and just clean the dang house myself. Less fighting and less crying (yes, sometimes that's my crying that I'm talking about) and it gets done a whole lot quicker.

That thought about being a Lazy Mother just really got me though. I've never considered myself to be a lazy mom. That's almost the ultimate oxymoron. Mother and Lazy should not even be spoken in the same sentence! Until I started really thinking about it. I want my children to learn to work. Teaching them to do that is Hard! How many times does one really have to show someone else how to do something until that someone else can do it on their own??? (only about a bazillion, but who's counting???) And really. What mother has that kind of time? So it really is easier to clean up after your kids. BUT. What does it profit the kids, and think of the time you can spend doing things you really WANT to do if your kids are doing what you DON'T want to do, but end up doing anyway because no one else is doing it?

Here's my thought. Spend the time now teaching your kids, and then sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labors.

How? It's really quite simple - and difficult at the same time.

Change your attitude. If your children see you griping and complaining about the work that needs to be done, they're going to gripe and complain. If you have to fake it until you make it - do it. Your kids don't need to know that you 're really a big faker. And, if they see you enjoying (even if you're really cursing under your breath), they'll start enjoying it too.

That's the first.

Second. Give them ownership of something. Make them totally responsible for something. And then, LOWER YOUR STANDARDS... DRASTICALLY. Remember how you used to shove everything in the world under your bed just so the floor LOOKED clean? They're doing the same thing. And to them, it's clean. You've grown up and are no longer hiding things under the bed because you don't want to clean up - they'll eventually figure it out. And if they don't, then start doing surprise inspections under the bed. It does wonders for getting things out from under the bed. This works really well for kids under the age of - oh, 20...

Third. Give them their own supplies. When you go to work, they give you everything you need to get the job done. Do the same for your children. Mine are seven and three. I went to the local discount store and purchased rubber gloves for the seven year old, cheap sponges for both of them, towels to make into aprons, towels to do the dusting with, and a bucket for each of them to keep their supplies in. Each bucket also has an individual envelope that has their chores in it - labeled with their name. Then - and this was for them the most important part - I had a friend make them some name tags. Now, when they do their chores, they're wearing their name tags to show that they're employeed by our family. And they LOVE IT! I had my seven year old doing ALL her chore in the same day because she was so excited to wear that name tag.

Fourth- use positive encouragement. Have your children inspect something that you're working on; and then use the same standards to judge their work. Whatever you do, DON'T FIX IT YOURSELF. If you give in to this evil, you'll spend a lot more time convincing them to do their chores. They'll get it into their cute little heads that "Mom will just fix it if I don't do it all." And that's a trap that you want to avoid like the plague.

Finally. Give them age appropriate chores to do. Each child is going to be different: My seven year old wanted the chore of cleaning the downstairs bathroom. Since that's the one that gets used the most, I was 100% willing to let someone else take ownership of that chore. And now... she's got it. In her little chore envelope, under "Clean the Downstairs Bathroom", she has a card that lists out exactly what I expect of her. I showed her what I expected, and now the chore is hers. No longer will I clean the bathroom. At the end of the week if it hasn't been cleaned twice, she's the one who will be up cleaning, not me.

While it can be a little discouraging for a long time - be patient with your children. The whole threat of "I brought you into this world, I can sure take you out of it too" lands mothers in jail when they act on it. Not to say that I haven't been tempted. But if I can teach my children to love work, I can truly turn into a lazy mom.

Now... where are the bon-bons? I want to sit and watch my favorite show.

The HICCUPotamus - a FABULOUS Children's book

This is one of my favorite kid's books. It is marvelously illustrated, and has terrific rhymes. They may not all be words, but it is fun enough to want to read it over and over again.

I find this book to be perfect for kids of ALL ages (including adult), and love it because hiccups are spontaneous. They come spontaneously, and they leave just as quickly. This book is about a little hippopotamus and his friends and how they discover hiccups. I love the full color illustrations and the fact that each little character has so much personality.

One of my favorite features of this book is the character sketches at the end - I'm sure those are meant for the Adult kids reading this book... they make me laugh every time.

I give this book a 10 - meaning that it was a must have on my shelf to read over and over and over again - from the first time I read it.

The HICCUPotamus, by Aaron Zenz can be found at Scholastic book fairs around the country.

Word of caution: reading the book may very well cause the reader to develop a bad case of the hiccups themselves. Read with caution...

Another super easy bread recipe

This is one that was given to my by my sister in law. I like it because you only let it rise one time and it goes together really quickly. For those of you who like the smell of fresh bread or love the taste of home made rolls without a lot of time, this is the perfect recipe. I've put rolls on the table from start to finish within 45 minutes (depending on how hot my wood stove is to rise rolls next to...)

Divine Dinner Rolls (also makes really good Cinnamon Rolls)

3 eggs
1/2 c. sugar
1 T salt (yes, that really is how much you need)
1/2 c. oil

1 c. warm water
3 T yeast
1 t. sugar

1 c. warm water
3 c. flour
1/2 c. warm water
3 c. flour

Combine the yeast, water and sugar in a small bowl - let soften for 5 minutes. In a mixing bowl, combine the eggs, oil, salt and sugar. Blend well. Add the yeast mixture and stir. Add the second cup of water and the first three cups of flour (I have added this as two cups whole wheat flour and one cup of white flour for wheat rolls), blend well. Add the remaining 1/2 cup of water and the remaining flour. Mix again. Dough will be sticky. Let rise until doubled and then knead on the counter - I always add an additional cup (at least) of flour. Roll out immediately and shape into the rolls that you want. If you let this rise again, expect miniature bread loaves instead of rolls with you dinner. Bake at 350 for approximately 15-18 minutes or until rolls are golden brown.

Enjoy!

Wharp Speed Ahead...

No, you're not experiencing a time wharp. I accidentally posted two posts that were supposed to wait until the end of the week. When I re-set the time, they posted today anyway, only with a different date. So... if you want to wait and read them later, feel free. Otherwise, take a break for the next few days, I know I will.

It Went REALLY Fast...

IT was a maroon color with a white background and a custom paint job. A small bell hung near the front tire, just for luck. The Indian painted on the front inspired countless questions, and the Eagle on the back was lifelike. It was truly a case of love at almost first sight. The Man riding it looked dangerous with his black leather jacket and chaps. His helmet sat - backwards - atop a dirty rag that covered his head to keep it warm. I was intrigued. What kind of a man could own such a machine? And was I willing to jump with both feet into a relationship with him? And then, the invitation.

While I was in love with the idea - A MOTORCYCLE... (and the man), I was also scared to death of it. After all, I had never been on the back of something that could go that fast and didn't require a seatbelt. I stared at it for a long, long time. He assured me that it was perfectly safe and that I wouldn't get hurt - or, worse yet, DIE. Still, I was apprehensive.

Finally, and at the last minute, I agreed to just sit on it. And then, He fired up the engine. That alone was enough to make me want to get off. It was LOUD. And SCARY! And I just knew that I was going to fall off. Still, I strapped on a borrowed helmet and held on for dear life. Slowly (although it seemed like we were going 60 MPH in a 15 MPH zone) we pulled out of the driveway. I held in the scream when the bike suddenly lurched forward with a burst of power. Instantly I felt the exhilaration of the wind blowing across my face... and the pain of a bug slamming at 35 miles per hour into my forehead. I was hooked. I burst into laughter. With sheer joy, I clung to the back of this Man with whom I was rapidly falling deeper and deeper in love. Around the block. Through the streets of the small town. Up the hill around the zoo. Around curves that made my heart leap into my throat. I wanted to close my eyes, but something stopped me. This was too much fun.

I could hardly wait to get back on after dinner was over. I wanted badly to ride again. To sit back and enjoy the wind cruising past my hair. To lean against the saddlebags and almost - but not quite - fall asleep... this was the life.

This wonderful man who introduced me to the thrill of the road bought me my own set of leathers. It was the ultimate in committment for me - even better than an engagement ring; it meant that he wanted me - and only me - to ride on the back of his most treasured possession with him. We eventually got married. For our first trip together, we rode the bike 500 miles. My seat hurt. To pass the time I counted the little white lines in the road. I sang songs. When it rained, I got wet. Still, I loved it.

We sold that bike less than a year ago. Even though it was just a toy and not something that we needed, I cried. I was surprised at how I was affected by this loss - for to me, it truly was a loss. We may never have THAT BIKE back, but eventually, we'll get another. We'll make more memories together with it. I may never have MY FIRST BIKE again, but I will always have the memories associated with it.

This post brought to you by the writing contest at Scribbit. Check her site out - it's really cool!

Busy...

"If you want something done, ask a busy person."

Someone told me that I should record my schedule from the past few weeks - because no one would believe that I could do it. After much thought and retrospect, I've decided to do just that. Because I don't believe that I have survived so well...

Two weeks ago (February 1, 2009), I started working long hours at the Portland Oregon Temple. At the same time, Mr. Snicklebutt started working LONGER hours - also at the Portland Oregon Temple... and times that were NOT the same as mine. He works from 7 am - 5:30 pm. I work from 8 pm - 4:30 am. This means that he leaves our house at 6 am, and I leave the house at 7 pm. In effect, we have 30 minutes in the morning and 30 minutes in the evening with each other. Some may find this wonderful - I find it stinky. I like being able to spend a few minutes (or hours) with my spouse discussing the day and what went well and what didn't and how the children were and why I'm so dang exhausted. We haven't had that time. In a few minutes, I'll explain what this has done for our relationship.

My day begins at 7:30 in the am. And yes, for those of you who are friends with Math, this means that I am getting to bed somewhere around 5:30 am and getting up two hours later. This is not always a pretty sight as one 7-year old can attest. Thankfully, (or should I say, MERCIFULLY) I am able to go back to sleep sometime around 8:30 am. This too is very short lived, as I am more than likely awake again around 11 am. Unfortunately, this is when the day really begins. I do laundry, dishes and play with children. Then, if I'm lucky, they take naps, and so do I. Nap time is ALWAYS over at 2 pm when aforementioned 7-year old is finished with school. Then it's home to help with homework (or the quick trip to the grocery store), and clean the house and then make dinner and maybe get in the shower to prepare for work... then off to work as soon as Mr. Snicklebutt gets home and feeds the animals and we bring wood into the house. Sometimes I make cookies and occasionally I make bread during my few waking hours as well.

Don't add the hours of sleep, you'll get tired too.

How has this affected my relationship with Mr. Snicklebutt? Strangely, it's brought us closer together. We are realizing how important it is for us to spend time daily with each other. We are also realizing how important it is for us to communicate clearly - and the importance of treating each other as if we are the most important part of each other's lives. As I leave a note for Mr. Snicklebutt in his work bucket nightly, I'm finding little ways to tell him that I love him. And I'm finding those notes in his pockets when I do the laundry. This says a lot to me. It tells me that he's paying attention to those notes (except the one that he threw away thinking that someone was just putting garbage in his bucket...); and it tells me that he finds me important enough to want to pay attention to those little notes.

I am eternally grateful that this work is rapidly coming to an end. I'm tired. No, I'm exhausted. On the other hand, I don't want this closeness to end. I don't want these last few weeks of becoming close and paying attention to the little things to come to an end. And as I type this, I realize that it doesn't have to. It is, however, one more thing that I'll find myself doing... and it's all worth it in the end.