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One year, my mother’s brother, Alfred and his wife, Julie spent the holiday with us. We packed a beautiful picnic as well as the large cooler, holding some 30lbs of ice and the special treat my mother made for the occasion. My father loaded the picnic basket, the cooler, and the old fashion, hand-crank ice cream maker into the car and off we went…
Today was the last day I needed to pack lunches for the Girl and Monkey Boy. I can’t believe that our insulated lunch bags and bento lunch boxes made it through the entire school year, even though I wasn't so sure that I had anything in the house to pack in them for their lunches. I was cutting it kind of close with meal planning. I have fruit aplenty and some carrots and a cucumber. In the pantry, I have a lot of nuts and some dried fruit and protein bars. I also have a cabinet full of spices. You can just imagine the conversation in the cafeteria, “I got some wasabi almonds, dried apricots, half a cuke, and a jar of fennel. Anyone wanna trade?”
Sometime over the holidays, I misplaced my winter gloves and needed something to cover my hands when I went outside in near zero degree temperatures. I didn’t want to run back upstairs—again—to grab a pair of gloves from my top dresser drawer, so I dug through the kids’ bag of gloves in the mudroom. Not a single matching pair among them, so this is what I wore.
There are a few of those extraordinarily ordinary things that I really love, like the laughter of the Girl and Monkey Boy when they are playing or reading and getting along, the softly falling snow in early winter, and freshly laundered and pressed bed linens. Today is the trifecta, and it’s just about perfect.
B went back to work this morning after taking several days off after Christmas, both to rest and refresh. We spent our days in pajamas, huddled together playing games, watching movies, reading books, and doing little else.
Right after B left for the office and knowing that this house had endured quite enough holidaying, I stripped the beds, gathered all the wash, and ventured to the laundry room to start the mountain that had accumulated during our respite.
I rarely pump gasoline in my car, but somehow it always has gas. I used to believe in magical gasoline fairies but I started to have my doubts a few years ago. "I put gas in your car. Did you notice it was on ‘E’? The gas light was on," B announced. “Really? I didn’t notice,” I replied.
We have been packing. Packing a lot. In between packing, we are painting. And cleaning. And landscaping. So, the other day after yet another run to the storage unit for more boxes and bubble wrap, we all stopped a local diner for lunch. There at our table in the diner was a small jukebox. They kids were fascinated. “You used to pay money to play songs?” Ash laughed and pulled out her iPhone.
Ren looked at me sadly. He poked his tongue through the hole where he lost his first baby tooth at school yesterday, “The Tooth Fairy did not come last night.” Oh no. Not again...
Ash has become quite the Ninja Shopper, moving silently and stealthy around the other shoppers, nabbing items from shelves and willing them into our shopping cart.
Monkey Boy also needs a costume, for which we are happy to provide. He needs a pig mask/nose/ears, and he need to wear either pink or peach for the play. Monkey Boy requested to wear pink, because according to him, "Peach is not my color."
The transformation is complete, although truth be told, it has been for quite a while, a couple years. But this morning sealed it.
The Girl walked into the kitchen, "Whatcha makin'?"
"Enchiladas. You might like them. Although, I don't know what you like anymore...or ever, " I said.
Conversations with Monkey Boy often confuse me. This evening, I sat with him at the table to make sure he was staying on task with his spelling words. We came to the word, "black," and Monkey Boy said, "Seriously?"
Monkey Boy just wrote me a note that begins, "From your son, Ren, to my female..." I wasn't too sure what to make of his noun choice, so I asked him to read me the note. He started, "From your son, Ren...to my family..."
In the car, Ren was going through his Halloween goodies bag from school when he found a pair of fake vampire teeth. He was busy eating snacks from the goodies bag so Ash said, “Here. Let me show you how they work.” She took the teeth and put them in her mouth. Then she took them out and handed them to Ren who promptly put them in his mouth.
Black Friday, mid morning, in the car on our way to Ollies. “Ash,” I started, “when we get to Ollies, daddy wants to show me a couple of items. Can you please take Ren to the T-O-Y section?”
The board game CLUE recommends the game for ages 8+. We threw caution to the wind and decided to teach the game to our kids...
I am not much of a food blogger. Don’t get me wrong, I love reading food blogs and discovering new recipes. I simply lack sufficient time in my schedule to fully document and photograph my every meal.
“Hey, momma,“ Ren said, which is how he starts almost every exchange with me, “Hey momma…hey, momma…hey, momma…hey, momma,” and he will keep repeating himself until I say, “Yes, Ren.”
We harvested and dried some of our garden peppers, the really hot ones, the hotter-than-hell-fire peppers. Then B put them into the spice grinder and made a powder, seeds and all.
B and I heard Ren jump out of his bed and land hard on the floor. “Uh oh.”
B said, “Pretend you’re asleep.”
On our staycation, we decided to take one night at a hotel and visit Knoebels Amusement Park in central Pennsylvania as part of Ren’s 6th Birthday Celebration...
Ash—the child who has never, ever brought home anything less than a perfect report card with perfect grades and notes like, “Ash is a joy to have in class”—kinda, sorta got in trouble at school today.
Ren was taking much too much time getting ready for school one morning last week. Instead of getting his clothes on, he was lying on the floor playing with his toys. I stepped into room, opened his drawers and pulled out clothes for him to wear.
Last week was a tough week. Two phone calls from two different teachers in regard to Ren’s behavior. A chat with the bus driver, and a note send home from Ren’s substitute.
B was standing in the kitchen with a large red apple in his hand. He smiled, winked at me, and began to twist the stem, “A…B…C…D…
Last Thursday morning, Monkey Boy was very adamant about not going to school. He stripped off his pajamas and squatted on the top step of the stairs, “I am not going to stupid school today! I hate school.”
“I’ll tell you what, Ren, let’s make a deal,” I said.
ABOUT
Kat Groshong is a writer and graphic designer who lives with B the Rock Star, the Girl and Monkey Boy in an old white house on the corner of Hazelwood and Thorntree in a town in southern Michigan. There is a tomcat that lives there as well and demands his food dish to be full to the top at all times. There are swift and dire consequences when that fails to occur.
Kat's bio and banner photos were taken by Amanda Danziger. Check our her work at www.amandadanziger.com.
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Monkey Boy called out from the family room, “Momma, I didn’t get my daily Pop Tart.”
“Daily Pop Tart?” I questioned. “Since when is that a thing?”
“Since you bought Pop Tarts at the store. So, can I have my daily Pop Tart?”
Okay, okay, I did buy Pop Tarts at the store the other day. It was unusual. It was most likely both a hero and villain move on my part. The Girl had agreed to go grocery shopping with me for veggies and fruit so that I could make this amazing summer salad to take to a friend’s house that evening for dinner. When we were heading to the check stand, the Girl commented that she was hungry. I stopped in the aisle just in front of the check stand and spread my arms wide, “What do you want?”