My friend Wendi used to make the best chicken soup with matza balls. It always makes me think of her when I make it. Before we met, I didn’t even know what a matzo ball was. How I lived my whole life having never experienced the ultimate comfort of matzo ball soup is crazy and sad. Me, being one to enjoy comfort more than a lot of people, I now relish a cold day and all the right ingredients.
We’ve had some moments lately. Oh my, we definitely have. Wendi would understand. The difficulty of these strange times can not be well described. What sends one day spiraling is usually something impossible to plan for. The unexpected has taken on new meaning here as temperatures plummet and seriousness amps up.
I’m tired of not understanding anything. I’m experiencing a different kind of discouragement that has only simple, yet complicated remedies. Thankfully, I have some detachment, but most of the time I feel my head cocked to one side like dog trying to put together all of the clues. Mostly regarding, how am I in trouble again?
Today, I get to make soup. Today, I’m not doing anything (that I know of) wrong. Today feels like a gift. Yoga was lovely, shopping was fun and now a gentle aroma of broth is wafting through the empty house. Ice crystals hang in the outside air, but I am sitting in a sliver of sunshine enjoying some tea while I wait for broth to lift meat from bone and matza to firm up in the fridge. I know my peaceful moment is coming to an end, but oh I do appreciate it right now while it lasts.
Vegetables and fruit, butter and olive oil , cream and coffee, grass fed meat and fish, spices
Five itiems do not a grocery list make. Even as categories, I couldn’t choose that sparsely. One thing we don’t buy at a grocery store anymore is bread. Bread these days, is full of bad oils, sugar, corn syrup, and preservatives. We look hard to find a bakery that sticks to the basics and uses organic flour (since who wants glyphosates). If I could, I think I would go back to baking bread myself. I used to when my kids were young. I was spoiled with a special local wheat that was harvested in small batches and I ground myself. Which made the flour warm and perfect for rising yeast. I baked an extra loaf to eat right out of the oven (when they say, it’s not proper to eat yet) Well, rule breaker that I was and am, we ate it hot with butter and local honey and one whole loaf was barely enough for four kids smelling the good smell of baking bread all morning long. It was always devoured. In those old hippi days, nothing said ‘health nut mother’ like grinding wheat and baking bread. It was also delicious. If you were to buy whole wheat flour back then, it tasted awful. I was channeling Alice Waters, in my quest for deliciousness, health, yes, but always, I cared deeply about flavor.
On this, the shortest day of the year, the longest darkest night of the winter. The day and night which proceed the beginning of going towards more daylight and less darkness.
On this special magical day, so many long years ago, I became a mother. My daughter arrived nearly three weeks early. Healthy, beautiful and tiny. I was in no way prepared for my world to be rocked so completely. Some things cannot be explained beforehand and this was one of them.
Nothing about who I am is the same as it was before I stepped into the role. It caused me to become someone I never planned to be. Talk about impact. This one tiny human gave me the gift of me. I did lose myself completely only to find out who I actually am.
It defined what I care about. To this day, it defines me, my values, my hopes, my dreams. Everything.
I suddenly wanted to give something better than I had. I still want better for the generations coming up. I grew up in a world of criticism instead of encouragement. Parents worried that children would become big headed,spoiled and greedy. I guess that’s why I grew up thinking I couldn’t do anything right. But not spoiled or big headed…
Leaving me with a very sure desire to raise my children with a strong sense of confidence and ability. This caused me to do a lot of research. Yes. I conducted my own behavioral experiment and once I got going, I never stopped.
I want all children to have the gift of calmly walking up to challenges with surety and courage.
I believe it can be a gift for all and I’m committed to sending tools out into the world for everyone. Life will never be perfect. Our children have different challenges. The internet hadn’t been invented, but now that it has, it tugs hard at everything and everyone. Kids are still vulnerable.
It isn’t lost on me that the gift of what I felt was missing in my upbringing, has driven me to make things better for not just my own family, but for everyone in the world. It’s a gift that has spanned lifetimes and generations. A gift that has inspired love and passion, three, going on four books, a whole beautiful life.
That’s an impactful gift of a person for which I’m am utterly grateful.
(I found this post in my drafts file. I thought it was already published long ago. I find it interesting all that’s happened since I wrote this) My life is again not what I pictured one year ago.
Is your life today what you pictured a year ago?
Ha! No.
I’m in one of those life situations that I never saw coming. After most of five months, I still wake up and wonder how I got here.
I can’t think too much about the whys or the hows. This is perfectly the way it all has to be. For now. I hold onto the hope that everything will improve and morph into something wonderful. For today, I need to only be grateful for the moments that get me through the harder things. Remembering to smile and appreciate everything single thing that I can.
This being a fairly typical family happening, aging parents and all, you may wonder how I was sure I wouldn’t be living any of this, personally.
First of all, my parents passed away many long years ago. They seemed old, but weren’t compatibly. In Gs family, he wasn’t the one being groomed for this caretaking role. He had left the area decades before anyone was old. Two of his brothers lived nearby, up until very recently.
A year ago tomorrow, the son of these ailing elderly parents passed. G is the step son. His other bother, also a step, somehow became more and more estranged over the years. So when G came out to help with the late timed and not really planned memorial, he saw firsthand how things were playing out. When he came back, he just said, I have to go help my mom.
And so we packed up, sold everything else, and drove from one coast to the other.
The universe has a way of sending for people and setting up circumstances at just the right time. The step father went downhill immediately. We have since spent most days in and out of some sort of medical drama ever since. If that isn’t enough, we have the most up close seat for all the painstaking elderly moments of Gs mom. Watching her navigate has been a full education. I am thankful for compassion and all the little things that have made this experience manageable.
It’s a lot. There are many things that barely make sense, but it is what is. And I have to accept it all as it unfolds. I’ve learned that for many parts, there are no explanations. I’ve learned that aesthetics aren’t a thing for many people’s lives and if they are, I might not see it. If my eye is offended, Im quite alone. In fact it reminds me of Alice in Wonderland a little. All of it some eventual lesson or lessons I’m learning.
Short answer? Last year, while enjoying the warmth of the season with my family, I only hoped for more good times and more togetherness, really more of the same great stuff. I had a wonderful life that I now miss. I never, in a million years, would have predicted that I’d be looking at a Christmas like this one. Or that I would be struggling to be cheerful in a pretty cheerless situation. Truly, it’s not all bad. Challenging. Interesting. Different.
I’ve had many lovely New England moments. I’ve had plenty of hours to work on my books and plenty of surprising fun with beauty sprinkled in. This is an experience. It’s life unfolding. It’s my life now.
This has been a good year to learn and relearn different ways to re regulate. Understanding that I won’t ever stay in a state of regulation is a helpful lesson. It’s bad enough to land in a state of dysregulation, but getting upset over being in a different state, makes it worse by far. Knowing that I don’t have to figure out what went wrong is important. Its also good to remember that I won’t stay dysregulated for long.
I’m glad to know that there’s a little magic in Gratitude, that if I can find some things to name that I’m thankful for, I’ll probably feel better. Honestly, just remembering to breathe and take care of myself when I feel out of sorts, cuts down on time spent suffering.
I liked learning that I can influence whatever state I’m in. I can make the good, bigger and the bad, smaller. I like the lessons that help me be easier on myself and drop into a comfortable flow of calm confidence, faster. Helping myself spend even a little more time regulated is a gift.
As I move through all the steps of finishing my book, I’m grateful for the expanded learning process I wasn’t expecting. When I’m really off, breathing some long slow breaths, is still my best default move. Glad all these years later, my books still prove true. Simple and helpful.
When the latest mocked up copy came home, she was sure it was hers…
I might want an Elf day in NYC. I have this wistful thought for a like minded friend to share a train ito the city with.
To visit the MOMA and have lunch at a cozy cool restaurant in SoHo. To check out art whereever it’s up and coming now. To experience the magic of the holiday decorations. To maybe skate again once more on that tiny famous rink, take in the tree, shop…sigh
I’m so close, but so so far away from a holiday day in the city. Being the artist type, I can’t help but love New York. I know it’s crowded and I know it’s drawbacks, I get. I know! No one neds to spell out why I can’t right now, but my oh my, I freaking love NYC this time of year…
Is everyone baking their holiday favorites? Are your mom’s cookies something you wait all year for? Are your family’s recipes the best?
Ours are! I hope yours are too! I love cookies. I’ve always been a fan of holiday baking. Maybe it’s the variety, maybe it’s the specialness of a once a year treat. Maybe it’s the tradition thing. Maybe it’s all of it. The coziness of a warm kitchen, sweet buttery smells and the fun of a little extra flair. Stirring love and detail into batch after batch of deliciousness.
On this stormy late December morning, nothing sounds better than baking to me. I’m loving the howling wind and pouring rain. The swaying tangled tree branches poking through the fog. It’s conspiring, out there, for me to insert a little romance into a non romantic time. Am I crazy to feel some big gratitude for this New England storm?
My kids will tell you that I’m not wrong. Our Christmas cookies are all pretty spectacular. Dark spicy gingerbread men and women, (of course). I decorate with butter icing for the loops and buttons. I also do hearts and snow flakes with butter icing details. (I know royal frosting is more the norm for gingerbread, but butter compliments the molassesy ginger flavors better, though we are a butter loving family, so a bit biased…
Auntie Eva’s jam thumbprints come next. This recipe dates back to my earliest childhood holiday memories. The days when they only aired special Christmas shows once per season. This meant if you visited the wrong family on the night ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ aired, you could miss it. Tragically, to us children, for the whole year! Luckily, Auntie Eva, who was not an actual relative, had a ton of kids. The last two around my brother and my ages. She baked hundreds of cookies all the time and we could sample as many as we wanted while watching any of our Xmas favs. Hopefully, when our parents’ visiting schedule led us there, it would be a night with two specials, like Charlie Brown AND Rudolf!
Her thumbprints have to be made in small batches. No one has ever had luck doubling her recipe for some reason. For the jam centers only the best homemade of course. A million years ago, I bottled jam from fruit I picked myself. Does anyone still do that? I often included a pretty little jar as a neighbor gift with a plate of cookies.
Next up: sugar cut outs. My sugar cookies are unique because I add cardamom. It’s a nod to my family’s Nordic roots. There’s a braided holiday bread made with Cardamom which I’ve never made, but my kids were born loving the spice. Truly, these are an elevated version of sugar cookies. Thick butter frosting and flakes of sprinkle colors with a light hand. No one needs colored sugar to over take things..
Whipped shortbread is easy. I loved it with the red and green fruitcake cherries that have fallen out of favor since I grew up. My kids weren’t fans, so I substituted red and green MnMs. I was the last of the fruitcake generation.Holiday fruitcake was mocked and made fun of until it disappeared some time in the eighties. I think the bakers of that confection have either passed or retired from baking. I admit I had a weirdly wide palette as a kid, so I was one of the few of my generation who secretly liked it. RIP fruitcake. Another holiday tradition bites the dust.
Chocolate chip, because my old recipe was the best…
Sometimes I’d make that toffee with chocolate broken into odd shapes, you know the one. If you time it wrong the toffee sticks to your teeth, but made correctly it’s pretty divine.
And finally, Magic bars! Remember those? Who doesn’t like the combination of chocolate, pecans, and coconut, on buttery graham cracker crust? I made my own sweetened condensed milk, because, well, you really don’t have to, but again, only the best for the holidays…
I’m a sucker for beautifuly displayed cookies. Every year covers of magazines are adorned with artistically decorated and arranged plates or boxes of holiday cookies. Every year I am reinspired.
I know it’s a lot of work! I know I know, who cares about cookies anymore? My old traditions have pretty much all fallen off the roof (like the Tavias fiddler). Its really ok. There is no one in my world at the moment who will appreciate real butter and carefully sourced ingredients. My little cookie monsters all grew up and I’m miles and miles away. It happens.
I’m just indulging in some nostalgia here, because why not?! No one didn’t like baking at my house!
My old baking season spanned the entire month of December. I baked and froze each cookie batch separately. My kids hung out, watching and helping and sampling until they got bored and drifted off to watch one of the holiday specials I had loved as a kid. I later added Little Women and the Muppets version of a Christmas Carol which stuck surprisingly to the actual story by Charles Dickens. Michael Cane does a great job acting along side a cast of mostly puppets. In my defense I was always about trying to get my kids to appreciate great classic art and literature. So thanks Jim for making that movie.
Little Women is well… ummm I guess needs a little explaning perhaps.. My kids, mostly boys, and all grown up, will tell you that the opening music to the eighties version of Little Women says Christmas to us all. This movie has a lot of young stars at the start of their fame, so that’s fun. It’s a good true to the story version. The art direction is on point. The details are all lovely, and several years of holiday scenes are portrayed. The music is amazing, but some online versions seem to exclude all the Christmas songs, which is kind of the point, so you would normally find us baking to the actual movie playing in the background. We have it memorized. Thats was our thing. I have some darling pics of my youngest granddaughter intently watching Little Women and later, Its a Wonderful Life. Just proving that you are never too young to appreciate the classics!
Or cookies! I miss those sweet old times. I have had the privilege of baking with my grands off and on for years. I’m grateful they all humor me and stream a holiday show and even try to watch one of those dated, old stop action ones, when I’m visiting.
My son put on the Muppets Christmas Carol last visit and we took a little trip down memory lane. Even though muppets are a hated thing, (who knew?!) sorry not sorry. It turns out it’s nice to have a two year old, without an opinion, as an excuse to watch silly old holiday programs
and bake…
My attic veiw, I couldn’t capture the wild winds in the photo, but clearly it’s rainy
I hope I don’t care what people say about me. Is this a trick question? I’ve been trying to learn the art of not caring for a while now! I’m being tested daily and it’s still hard.
I try every day to be a good conscientious person. I weigh my decisions carefully so I will do the least harm and hopefully help wherever possible. My motivation has never been so people will say anything in particular about me. I learned when I was young, that people are fickle. Their opinions can change on a dime. This is a tricky question for me because it sounds like encouragement to care.
Have you ever performed on stage or given a speech?
Yeah, enough to know it’s not my jam
I’m not a performer in any sense of the word. Im terrible at pretending to be any other way than how I am. If only I had that gift…
What you see is what you get. Corresponding face to how I’m really feeling. It’s been a problem since birth.
If only I could ACT like all is fine. Boy do I wish I was a better performer!
I once saw a mom who angerly told off her children in front of a large group, while smiling the whole time. My own kids and I stared in awkward disbelief. How was she doing that?! Was anyone confused? I mean besides us? Her kids took it in stride and were properly quiet, seeming to understand the reprimand. Beautiful performance.
Sigh. If only I had a tiny bit of talent so I could suck it up and save face and not be sad we’ve run out of heavy cream…
Can’t
Im also fighting some weird illness, which is not contributing to my acting performance. Im really as sick as l seem, which is luckily not that bad. Trust me, I’m not dramatic, but I wish I felt a whole lot better. I’m taking myself out to buy cream and some cold/flu medicine.
The morning has not gotten off to a stellar start, here’s hoping for a better finish.
Peace Kit 