Back-To-School Traditions Shared. (I Hope)

When my daughter first started school, 14 years ago, we started a tradition of dinner out at the restaurant of her choice on the first day of school. It was a tradition born of necessity. I was teaching at the time, a single mom, and was completely overwhelmed and frazzled on that first day of school. She had no idea she was saving me from having to tackle dinner.

She thought it was all about her.

Which it was.

And continued to be.

We’ve done that every year as our little back-to-school tradition. Not very original, though. Especially when I read a Facebook friend’s little shout out: “Just finished our end-of-summer-back-to-school tradition of ice cream for dinner! Yum! Yum!”

So cute. A little too sugary for my tastes. (Ba-dum-bum! Chhhh!)

 But original. And a lot more exciting than our boring ol’ go-out-for-dinner-on-the-first-day-of-school.

There must be other traditions out there that I hadn’t heard of.

So…..

Shout them out in the comments section below.

Please?

I’m looking for new material!

Everyone Could Use A Little !!!

My friends at Bad Mommy Moments and Momalom have come up with a post idea that just tickles and stirs my soul.

Recognizing the !!! in our lives.

They call it “Intentional Happiness.” I call it brilliant!

The kids are home for the summer. I love my kids. I adore them. But underfoot 24/7? Driving me batty. Thank goodness for soccer camp. Three hours of !!!

I love to cook. I’m not a trained professional. Because my mother hated to cook, I’m self-taught. And because I’m cheap frugal, I don’t have a Kitchen Aid mixer or Cuisinart Food Processor. Sure, they’re on my wish list but who knows when I’ll break down and buy them. And my husband knows this. He knows I hesitate to buy myself anything or splurge on something frivolous.He saw me eyeing this…

…at Williams Sonoma. A salt-cellar. Whenever I use it, I feel like a chef. It feels decadent and fun. And I remember his sweet gesture.

Some call it a bribe. I call it dessert.

But never before dinner.

And dinner with Indiana Jones? The perfect !!!

 

(Don’t forget about our commencement speech challenge on Friday. To learn more click here!  And I discovered the prize on subWow’s blog Absence of Alternatives. Cool shirt and a great cause! See you Friday!)

The ‘I Can’t Believe I Said That’ Post

I don’t know what it is about turning 5 years old, starting school and suddenly not enjoying the foods you used to love. #2son no longer likes broccoli, anything with a sauce, dark leafy greens, pineapple and hot cereal. The same thing happened to my daughter when she started school. #1son went through a similar episode but thank goodness it was only a phase for him. Because I honestly think he’s going to be a famous chef one day. He loves food. He loves preparing food. And if he can’t help me prepare the meal (tricky knife work or a hot stove) he’s happy to sit and watch me cook. But back to #2son…..

A few nights ago I prepared a new dish for dinner. Something that I thought would be very kid friendly. Meatballs in a BBQ sauce (that has grape jelly in the mix for goodness sake) over egg noodles with string beans. He devoured the green beans. And asked for more. He ate two helpings of green beans but wouldn’t touch the meatball dish.

“It looks yucky,” he said.

“Try it. It has grape jelly in it, your favorite,” I pleaded.

He fussed. He pushed things around. He stalled. Meanwhile, his brother was finished and on to dessert.

“Can I have that for dessert, too?” #2son asked.

“Yes, after you finish your dinner.”

“But I don’t like it,” he said.

“You haven’t even tried it yet. You like noodles. Try some noodles.”

He tasted the noodles. Not bad. So he ate all his noodles.

“Now can I have dessert?”

“No,” I said, “You still haven’t finished your dinner.”

He eyed the meatballs. He looked at me.

“But the meat has too much sauce on it and I don’t like the sauce and I still want dessert,” #2son explained.

“You have to eat the meatballs, too. It’s part of your dinner and if you want dessert you have to eat ALL of your dinner.”

“But I don’t like the meat!” he cried.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “You can’t have dessert if you don’t eat your meat. How can you have any dessert if you don’t eat your meat?”

And then I burst out laughing. And ran to go put on my Pink Floyd CD.

Chocolate Cake for Breakfast, Lucky Charms for Dinner

The other night was just one of those nights. Pick up kids from school. Go to bank. Pick up milk. Race home. Feed kids. Get back in car. Pick up daughter from practice. Go to parent meeting. Race like a madwoman from one place to the next.

Now, I knew the schedule beforehand. I knew it would be tight. I also knew that the parent meeting would be right in the middle of dinner hour and would probably run longer than expected. And wouldn’t you know it, my husband had to work late.

We had plenty of leftovers in the fridge. And that’s when the lightbulb went off.

“Guess what boys? It’s opposite day. And today we’re going to have dinner for snack and snack for dinner!”

“Huh?”

“Today, when we get home we’re going to eat dinner for your afterschool snack. And then after mommy’s meeting we’re going to come home and have any kind of cereal you want for dinner!”

“ANY kind?”

“Yes.”

“Can we have Cocoa Puffs?”

“Yes.”

“Or Lucky Charms?”

“Yes!”

“Mom! You’re the BEST!”

You see, we don’t eat sugared cereal for breakfast – at least not on my watch. The sugared cereal is reserved for snack after school or for dessert. They were practically racing into the house to put away their jackets and shoes. They washed their hands at record speed and hurried to the table for their ‘snack.’ I heated up the leftovers and they ate heartily. I smiled at my brilliance.

We picked up my daughter. She watched the boys while I attended the parent meeting for her team. And then we went home.

“Can we have a really, really big bowl?”

“Sure!”

“Thanks, Mom! I can’t wait to tell my teacher I had Lucky Charms for dinner!”

Uh-oh.

I didn’t think of that.

And then I remembered the Bill Cosby skit about chocolate cake for  breakfast.

Enjoy your Friday funny!

Shoppin’ The Refrigerator

My husband loves leftovers for lunch.  And he’s a saint for eating them up for all of us. Unless, of course, he forgets it on the counter. All day. Until it grows its own goatee complete with gray hair. Typically, because he is so good at eating them up, there are few leftovers. More often than not, I have to use a sharpie to mark MY lunch for the next day – because there are just some things that are better as leftovers like meatloaf, chili and scalloped potatoes.  

Last night, I went to make dinner and the refrigerator was full. To the gills. With what? You guessed it. Leftovers. I don’t mind leftovers but I like to cook. New things. But I hadn’t been shopping for days and the refrigerator looked full. So I scratched the menu for the evening and called the kids to the refrigerator. I handed each one a plate and told them they were shoppin’ the refrigerator. Huh? the confused little guys asked. Shopping? Our refrigerator? For dinner?

With meal tickets in hand (one meat, one starch, one vegetable and one freebie) they picked and choose to their hearts delight. There was so much excitement they couldn’t decide.   I had to pull all the available choices out for fear that the milk would spoil while they stood there gazing longingly at the titillating selection.  #1 son chose spanish rice, beef tenderloin, green beans and sausage. #2 son chose beef tenderloin, sausage, macaroni and asparagus. (Can you tell my boys are meat eaters?) #1 daughter (with her spanking new drivers license) was out “running errands” and conveniently went the fast food route as soon as she heard the menu.

And after every plate was heated up all I heard was munching. Crunching. A little slurping. Thank goodness, no burping. And then, “Mom? Can I have more (fill in the blank)?”  There were no complaints. No bargaining. No questions about what was for dessert so they could decide how hungry they really were. They finished their plates (and they were heaping because I was trying to clear out the refrigerator) without complaint.

Pinch me. I must be dreaming.

These are the very things we’ve eaten over the course of the past 3 days. And at each of those meals I have heard, “How many more green beans do I have to eat?” “Do I HAVE to eat the asparagus?” “You gave me too much rice.” “This meat is too chewy.”

But last night, because THEY got to choose, they couldn’t get enough. I think I might be on to something.

Then my husband came home. “What’s for dinner?” he asked brightly. Leftovers. “Oh.” His face fell. I guess he really does just like leftovers for lunch.

Well, 2 out of 3 happy eaters ain’t bad.