Turns out the weather wasn’t cold enough to freeze the landscape.

May I present reason 27 why I hate this winter?

How about reason 35?

They play soccer at lunchtime. And recess. And the grass is muddy. Which doesn’t prevent those boys from playing soccer.

It’s the highlight of school. I realize this. He and his buddies all look the same, and his teacher is awesome about it (even though I’m a little mortified at the state of the classroom, particularly his work station and surrounding area).

The other parents are kind of resigned about the dirt too. They’re boys, and they are active, and they’re having fun, is what we’re all thinking….

So we do laundry. Every day….because they come home this way every day…

*smile*

Still, snow doesn’t require as much work. And wet clothing don’t require laundering on a daily basis…But hey, I got a happy kid! What’s a little mud.

*sigh*

Although the kids won’t eat it, sick DH will, and so will I…so I made an extra big pot. Because soup is meant to be versatile, I can now add things to it, just to liven it up a bit.

The basic recipe is so simple, it’s not even a real recipe. I simply took a can of tomatoes and blended them smooth with pressed fresh garlic, and a whole bunch of spices (I used oregano, thyme, garlic powder, onion powder, celery salt and a small pinch of hot pepper flakes).

Then I heated some olive oil in pot, added some chopped onions and carrots (and I would have added celery if I had some in the house, which I didn’t), and stirred in some sea salt, pepper and maple syrup. Once the onion was translucent looking, I poured the blended tomatoes into the pot, added a cup of chicken broth, and let the entire thing simmer for an hour on medium-low heat.

Today I will take half the soup and simmer it with some leftover chicken pieces, and possibly stir in some squash as well.

Tomorrow I might add some beans and pasta to the other half the soup.

Easy, warm and filling. And lunch is ready with minimum fuss for an entire week.

He walked behind me to school, looking a little bit off. I said ‘what’s the matter with your hands?’ and he said ‘they’re cold’.

‘Where’s your gloves?’

Shrug. It’s cold out, he is wearing two layers, winter boots, and a hat. It doesn’t occur to him to put gloves on?

Do I have to remind him of every article of clothing? Still, today, at close to 7 years old?

The answer is yes.

His eyes welled up with tears. I felt bad (also exasperated). I gave him mine. He said he would like it if I would get him his gloves prior to his first recess. I said no. I also said that I was kind enough to give him my gloves even though my own hands are now cold.

He almost cried. I launched into a chat with him, about how he has my gloves now, and that the earliest I can get his gloves to him was at lunchtime when I was going to be there anyway to pick up his sister.

Then we talked about how the verbal reminders (or nagging) I give from the moment I get up to the moment I lock the door behind me was supposed to get them to do the stuff I tell them to do. They’re not supposed to ignore the advice. I said:

‘Benjamin, it’s not hard. You already do some of the things very well in the morning without me telling you. But when it’s time to get dressed and you’re reaching for things like winter boots and hats, this should be enough of a clue for you to also get your gloves ready. I shouldn’t have to remind you of every single piece of clothing you need to remember to put on.’

He gets it. I think. I hope…

And these are kids that harvest food from soil and trees in their own backyard. Kids whose mother, and grandmother, are avid gardeners. Kids who understand about factory-produced fruit (to degrees) or those that grow wild in the forest (like blueberries, for example).

But the fuss, the noise, the complaints about the little brown spots taste different…it’s unreal.

And I have reached my limit.

It’s not like I give her a half-rotten banana. I even go so far to cut out the soft brown spot on an apple that is clearly bruised, since I too don’t like that part of the fruit. I go to the trouble of drizzling lemon juice on a cut piece of fruit to prevent it from browning too quickly, and wash meticulously each and every washable eatable item I can, not just to remove the dirt and grit that naturally clings to ‘real’ or ‘whole’ food, but also to reduce the possible chemicals the item may have been dowsed with.

(Yes, I choose organic occasionally, but I’m not always in a position of picking only organic produce…best produce to eat is home-grown, we all know that, but this is Canada in January. I think most of us are in a similar situation.)

Having said all that, I bought some pears today. They had a few spots on them, but that was part of the skin, not a bruise. TRUST ME, I checked. I spent extra time picking out only the best looking pears for my precious offspring…(drip drip drip the sarcasm here).

Fast forward to lunch. We came home with a little surprise for her to have while watching some dvd she chose at the library. A chocolate croissant from our favorite organic, hand-crafted bakery down the street. But first, she had to eat her lunch. And she picked some pear to go with her sandwich…

Long story short, there was a lot of noise about the brown spots on the pear, and a temper tantrum reminiscent of the toddler years. The croissant remained on the counter instead of on her pink plate and she was not pleased.

[An hour later she managed to eat two of the four slices and announced that she no longer has a craving for croissant after all...and that she won't be eating either the slices of pear or the croissant. But knowing that girl of mine, I am sure there will be many versions, explanations and negotiations about this particular subject before the day has ended.]

*sigh*

The bad news is that I haven’t ordered the backyard ice rink.

The other bad news is that winter is not sticking around, with temps going up up up enough to turn every last bit of snow into slush and mud and ick.

The good news is that it hasn’t happened yet today.

The bad news is that I care very little about anything other than sleep, of which I am getting next to none.

Sonja won’t sleep. She never has and it is beginning to sink in that perhaps she never will.

There is more bad news. I slammed a closet door that had a mirror attached to it a little too hard in my fatigue-induced bad temper over some high-pitched screeching which now needs fixing.

To turn this into good news though I thought I could make a little project out of it. Why not use that can of blackboard paint I’ve been holding on to, and make a blackboard notice board on that door? I can then write down the expectations the children are to follow, and instead of yell at them, simply point to the board and make them go read it.

(Whatever, I can dream…)

Dull is not how I would describe my life. But I have to admit, I would love nothing more than a few dull moments on occasion…

*sigh*

*smile*

On my way back from picking up Molly today I passed a house that had a blue tarp all over their backyard. At first I thought they put in a pool, but then I realized it was an ice rink! Or rather, a wanna-be ice rink…

The idea of purchasing lumber and tarps and spending a lot of time putting together a rink I have never made before, with or without the help of other people around here, is kind of intimidating to me. But then I saw this.

I think I’m going to purchase this. The product is Canadian made (my old University town!), and adjustable in terms of size, and comes as a kit with everything included. I don’t need lumber, nails or tools, and simply click the pieces together.

Then I’ll put the kids in charge of keeping snow off it, should we ever get any around here…

Yes. I’ve convinced myself. I’m going to order it. Let the skating begin!

So today I assembled this…

…and grilled it briefly in the toaster oven, to make this:

Pretty tasty!

I ate two for lunch and nothing else.

By supper time I had full-fledged food poisoning.

It just makes you think, doesn’t it. You shop in a reputable store, you watch how you prepare food yourself, you do what it takes to keep everything washed and clean and hygienic, and still, there’s food poisoning.

I felt terrible throwing out the other four croissants. My kids love the spinach ones (and luckily didn’t eat them). They must have cost a pretty penny, and they were so fresh and good…I feel sad.

It makes me wonder if it was the spinach, the most likely culprit. Even if it was grown organically, like with all food that gets produced for mass consumption, at one point or another it gets handled. Was it the spinach? Was it due to the growing, the packaging, the handling?

It’s highly unlikely it was not the croissants that caused me this grief. I ate the same thing for breakfast as everyone else in the household, and was the only one who ate the croissants for lunch. I had nothing to snack prior to dinner and no dinner at all since by then I was already feeling nauseous.

It had to be the croissants.

Sigh.

But all is well now. Making a lovely roast for supper in the crock, and I tell you, after two days of eating nothing, I am FAMISHED!

He wanted a special type of candy called Sugus, brought back from Switzerland from my mom. They are candies I enjoyed as a child growing up in Switzerland. We have two bags of them and I consider them something special, to enjoy occasionally.

Today they were in camp. When they came home I told them I had a special surprise ready for them and served them, to their delight, a slice of blueberry cheesecake and some nice warm tea.

5 minutes later Ben wanted a Sugus. I said no.

The ensuing crisis was rather mind boggling. He got so upset, so angry at me, hurling accusations and stomping around, I have to wonder why not having one little candy is worth such drama. What would happen if something more substantial happened? I mean, sheesh…

He wanted to know why I always say no.

Huh? How many times a day do I say yes to their endless requests?

Was that cheesecake surprise not enough? (Stupid question, of course it isn’t. It’s never enough).

Were we not just spoiled for two weeks with incessant Christmas cheer?

This reminds me of the time when my mom returned from Switzerland with goodies and gifts for them. The entire coffee table was covered with all sorts of wonderful and unique things. After they inspected each item, and mom got ready to go home, they had asked me for something (what it was eludes me at the moment) to which I said no. A similar outburst occurred with all the usual you always say no! and you are so mean! cries and complaints. And I thought the same thoughts as I do now.

Are my children spoiled?
Are all middle-class children spoiled?
Is childhood spoiled?

It’s something to remember, and address during a quieter time, to help them understand. There is nothing wrong, in my humble opinion, of describing to them just how fortunate they are. There is nothing wrong with saying no occasionally. I should do it more often, frankly.

Because the over-indulgence is not over – today at the grocery store I saw, side by side on a shelf, Valentine’s Day chocolates and Easter Cream Eggs. On the third day of the new year.

Sigh.

Next week they are in camp part time in the afternoon for a few days. Sigh…

I am tired. VERY tired. She doesn’t sleep through the night, and days are busy…and she talks too much. Most of it is repetitive, loud, and inquisitive. Frankly, I just don’t care…

I took them to Ikea this afternoon. We dropped the girl off at Smalland or whatever the little play ground area is called, and Ben didn’t want to go so he walked around with me looking at stuff, and then I bought them dinner there.

Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to preserve your sanity. Especially since my best efforts to convince DH to take the girl hunting with him were futile.

Tomorrow we’re back at the rink. Ben plays for gold or silver in the Tyke game, and will get a metal out of it. His first ever…so that will be exciting.

Will I be able to stay awake to welcome in the New Year? I seriously doubt it, even though some family will be visiting with us. I suggested to Ben that maybe tomorrow he can help me blow up the air mattress so we can all snuggle together in the living room if some of us are too tired to stay awake…what a bunch of party poopers we are. I guess we’re feeling old(er).

Nevertheless, happy New Year from me to you!