Fears Assuaged

One of the hardest cumpulsions to combat in parenthood is that of comparing your child, favorably or unfavorably, to others of the same age. For the most part we are not talking about babies who can recite Shakespeare at 15 months or who are playing Mozart at 2, but parents are always so proud of their kids' accomplishments and they never hesitate to share them. I try not to fall prey... I try not to brag, even when warranted, and I generally don't feel insecure about my children's development.

Fact: very few children are real bonafide geniuses

Fact: all children develop different skills at a different pace

Fact: regardless of the previous two facts, your child will look like a late bloomer in relation to some other child, at some skill, at some time.

For G, this is drawing. She has fabulous large motor skills: running, skipping, climbing, balance, jumping on two feet, jumping on one foot. Her fine motor skills, however, could use a little refining. It is not that I am worried, I know these things come with time and practice and interest (which she has little). I asked her pediatrician what kind of artistic abilities she should have at 4 and she said not much... a circle for a head and two lines for arms. Yet, I have long noticed that other girls her age, and even younger, can draw. They are not little Monet's or anything, but their scribblings vaguely, abstractly resemble objects from daily life: mom, dad, the dog, a tree.

G's scribblings look like scribblings... I mean squirrly-whirly scribblings. I have tried to encourage her to draw a stick-person explaining how to do it. She gets up close to the paper, concentrating fiercely, holding her crayon tight, and scratches intently for a few seconds. Then she sits back, looks at her work, laughs histerically and says: "look at his head." I could worry, but come on people, she is 4. And by the way, it looked nothing like a head.

Truth be told, I don't have an artistic bone in my body. I struggle with stick-people, and anything more complex or realistic is way beyond my skill level. My husband can draw quite well: his bananas look like bananas and his elephants like elephants. His mom was an artist and art teacher so perhaps there is a gene. G didn't get it, I am pretty sure.

But I was relieved a while back to see something person-ish on her paper.

Take a look:


Is that anthropomorphic or what?

I think my fears can be safely laid to rest.

To Do or to Have

I was inspired by Margaret who wrote a very moving post, inspired by another post titled: “Are you a stuff junkie or an experience junkie?” I loved her take on the importance of catching experience in photos.

So I have been thinking all afternoon about my desires for tangibles and intangibles and whether I am a “stuff” or “experience” person at my core.

It is actually a fairly complicated question, not really as far as where I fall, but in general. I love how Margaret describes the “stuff” people as nesters, because I don’t think “stuff” is always about consumerism and greed, which is semi-implied, I think, in the question. I would also add that “experience” is more than traveling. For me “experience” as a counterpoint to “stuff” has included marrying the man I married, completing my Ph.D. and having kids—all decisions that are more about how I want to experience life than they are about stuff.

“Stuff” is also about the experience of beauty. I am not talking about consumer crazes like constantly upgrading cars or phones or purchasing a Gucci bag for your purse collection. I am thinking more along the lines of Pablo Neruda, who had such beautiful collections of things, some as quotidian as bottles and shells, others exotic. I think there is beauty in the experience of some objects that makes us want to be surrounded by them.

I grew up with very little in the “stuff” department, so as an adult, it could have gone either way. (I have at least one sister who tries to fill those childhood voids with stuff now.) When I went away to college, an experience I wanted to have (and for which I am still paying now), I had nothing. I had a picnic blanket I borrowed from my mom to put on my bed in the dorm and 20 bucks. I had to borrow money for books. After I paid that debt off and bought books for the next semester, I took my next unfettered work-study check, and blew it all ($150) on a pair of hiking boots, an unthinkable luxury, which I still have and love, and strangely bring tears to my eyes now as I think about them. So I don’t look down on stuff; stuff can be powerful.

But I think my path was chosen when I studied abroad in Ecuador (or maybe it was chosen long before because of the person I was, who knows). Just as important as where I went, what I saw, and what it meant, the notion that even coming from where I came from, I could find a way to go anywhere… do anything, was so empowering.

Of course, there are tangibles, many of the same ones that Margaret mentions that I don’t want to do without:

A computer, for example, which more than being an object itself, is a portal for experiencing family at a distance and for experiencing an online community which has come to fill a special place in my life.

I love books; I am drawn to them; they are irresistible. I didn’t grow up with a TV, so I was an avid reader as a kid. The past few years I have been immersed in academia, but I am finally getting back into reading for the sheer joy of it again. I have many books and I used to have more. I am limited by space and periodically purge and prune my collection. It is painful, even if it is a book I won’t read again. I would love to have a huge library with those ladders that slide. I also experience other people through books… what I mean is that by looking at what books people have you get a sense about them. If I visit you house, I will look at your books. If you have no books, it will be a little disconcerting.

I love kitchen stuff. I don’t need a lot of stuff and I can make do with whatever I have. I won’t buy a rolling pin because the empty wine bottle I use does just fine, but I adore my $200 Le Creuset dutch oven. I don’t have my dream kitchen yet, but when I do, it will be filled with lots of kitchen stuff, because I like the experience of making and sharing good food with good friends and family in a cozy, well-stocked kitchen.

I love my camera, though it is not always in front of my face—I do a fair bit of observation, but I do love the idea, as Margaret more poignantly expresses, of capturing experiences to relive at a future date.

So you see, even with stuff, it is all about the experience of things.

One might also argue that in order to experience one must have the right stuff, so it may come down to what stuff you are buying or what experiences you are after.

Is it just me...

Every time my father-in-law comes to visit he fills his suitcases, round-trip, with objects for other people. On his way here, they are filled with gifts that people send us. On his way back they are filled with gifts he buys for others and gifts that we send back. He barely has room for his clothes.

In addition, there are always a few random requests to carry various electronics: ipods, iphones, cameras, and the occasional laptop. For close family, I think that is fine. If you are not immediate family, such a request just seems rude to me... Personally, I would rather pay $100 extra than burden my friend's dad or my brother's wife's dad, but that is just me and yes, I do realize that social acceptability for requests has a big cultural component.

Now that we are planning our return to Chile, I know that these issues will come up. I have already made it perfectly clear to my hubs that we will be rejecting any requests to bring back a laptop for anybody. I may even say no to an iphone... We are making a transnational move here people, We will be carrying 2 kids and all the luggage we are alotted and possibly car seats. I will not be carrying anything for anybody. Our very stressful move is not anyone's opportunity of a lifetime to get their dream-anything. I am a mean, nasty witch and I am not sorry about it.

I was totally unprepared for the latest implied request though...

A friend of my husband, who he has grown up with has called a few times recently. The other day he left a message saying he'd like to chat by messenger. He said he had heard we were coming back... expressed his excitement... and started asking about the process and if we were sending our car and such. We started talking about whether ornot it was worth it to ship the car (we had decided that after paying shipping and taxes that it wasn't). He starts talking about a car he is eyeing on ebay (bad sign, my hands start sweating). The only problem of course, is that he has not resided in the US so under some import/export law he cannot buy himself a used car abroad and have it sent to himself. So he is frantically trying to find a way to finagle it before the auction ends and he loses it. Do you see where this is heading?

That is where I hand the computer to my hubs and tell him I am not dealing with it. He hasn't come out and asked, directly, but it is oh so implied. The conversation trailed off and ended and I hoped he would come to his senses...

But it seems he hasn't. I got another message (and I think he just called on the phone) that he wants to chat tonight (I will not be getting on). I looked at the car auction on ebay and it has been sold. All I can say is that he had better not be the buyer. I will FREAK! ...and it will not end well. I am getting all worked up just thinking that he bought it and is going to expect us to help him ship it. I don't even want to go through the work, coordination, and hassle to send my own very-loved car, not to mention all the other stresses and work we have facing us.

Is it just me, or is this just absurdly, preposterously rude? Am I getting too prematurely worked up?

Food: the results

I posted last week about some recipes I wanted to try, namely pizza and French Onion Soup (though not together).

First, the pizza dough: I usually make a whole wheat or half-half recipe, which is more healthy (I even put ground flax seeds in it, because I am a freak). It is really good, I can't complain... and yet there is something about regular white flour dough that is pretty tasty. There is a little pizza joint I love that makes awesome pizza and has really good crust so I was kind of looking for something similar (though it is hard to tell from a recipe or even the descriptions how it is going to turn out). I had found a recipe from the book American Pie by Peter Reinhart and decided to try it.

The interesting thing is that it goes against everything you thought you knew about yeast breads. There is no sugar, it is totally cold (chilled flour, ice water, and cold rise). I have seen cold rise recipes before, but always dissolving yeast in warm water/sugar first. It is pretty easy to mix together and then you just plop it in the fridge for 1-3 days. You let it sit on the counter for 2 hours before using it.

Let me tell you... I was very skeptical. It didn't rise at all, really, in the fridge and on the counter it just sat all lumpish. I thought for sure it was a no-go. I was thinking about plan B for dinner and hesitated to even prepare the pizza toppings. I kept looking at it thinking it wasn't going to work.

Well it did. You are supposed to stretch it over your fists to shape it, and toss it if you can, which I can't... but it just falls over the sides of your fists and stretches like silk. It was so cool!! It can go super thin, which was a problem with the kids pizza (traditional sauce, mozzerella, zuchini, corn, and black olives) the crust was too thin in the middle.

I worked it out better for the next one and the two the next day turned out good too (I divided the dough into 4).

So the first day I copied the pizza I love from the joint I mentioned above (cilantro pesto--which was easy to make, mozzerella, buffalo chicken, red onion, banana peppers and a sprinkle of blue cheese) It turned out really good.

Here it is:


It tasted really similar, but I think their crust is better... so I am still on the prowl for the perfect crust. It might be an equipment issue too. I don't have a pizza stone or anything fancy... maybe that is my next cooking purchase.... or not, I'm already thinking of something else to make... My new plan is to go beg them for their recipe.

The next day I made the pizza from P-dub's new cookbook (PW= Pioneer Woman). You rub the crust with olive oil and cover it with a layer of potatoes cut paper-thin. Then you cover the potatoes with a layer of fresh mozzerella, also sliced. You cook some bacon and then saute several leeks in the bacon grease and throw all that on, then you top it off with some crumbled goat cheese (Feta) some grated parmesan and some black pepper. It. is. to. DIE. for! Seriously, I would never lead you astray when it comes to food... either would P-dub. I have a friend who said it sounded gross... I was so elated to inform her that she was grossly mistaken and have promised to make it for her so that I have an excuse to make it again. Anyone else want some?

We decided it is that potatoes are so good with a good unhealthy animal fat. If you are vegetarian, it would probably be just as good with a little more olive oil and a a sprinkling of my tears of sorrow that there would be no bacon...

Here is that one:


So my last adventure was French Onion Soup. It turned out really good. I made it and a salad as a light supper, but I think it is better served in a smaller portion as a first course. Toward the end I was all onion-ed out...

My favorite part is the Gruyere covered croutons... so good... and it always makes me so proud that I have come such a long way from my "only cheddar" days.



I am not very good at food photography... I'll have to look up some tips.

Next on my want-to-make list... homemade fettucine and maybe ravioli... if only I can get my hands on a pasta maker (to roll it).

G: a series of faces

Funny, sweet, and surprisingly stubborn (we have no idea where that comes from).

She is at this stage (is it a stage?) where she talks incessantly... I mean nonstop chatter. It is mostly entertaining, but it does get in the way of everything else she needs to do, because apparently this isn't an age of multi-tasking. I can't even count how many times a day I say:

G, stop talking and eat
G, stop talking and get dressed
G, stop talking and climb into your carseat
G, stop talking and get out of the car
G, stop talking and finish your lunch
G, stop talking and lie down
G, stop talking and go potty
G, stop talking and put your shoes on
G, stop talking and eat your dinner (like 10 times)

Her talking incessantly makes me talk incessantly.