Mom 2.0 redux

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Not too long ago, I wrote a post called Mom 2.0 better than Mom 1.0 highlighting nine ways Megan (Mom 2.0) has outdone her mother (me, Mom 1.0). Well, she's gone and done it again -- taken what I've taught her and bumped it up a notch.

Consider this post reason No. 10 why Mom 2.0 is better than Mom 1.0.

As many of you know, Megan and Preston hosted our Thanksgiving gathering this year. Megan has never prepared the Thanksgiving meal and has only once cooked a turkey by herself. Yet she took it upon herself to do something I have never done, something I had previously never even heard of: Megan brined the Thanksgiving turkey.

And I must admit, it turned out to be the most delectably moist and flavorful turkey I think I've ever had.

Megan soaked the turkey in a savory solution for a day or so. Then she seasoned it well (before taking off for the Turkey Trot, I might add).

She baked it and basted it and recruited Preston for the heavy lifting of the 20-pound tom in and out of the oven.

Once roasted to golden perfection, Preston carved the bird -- his first time ever charged with Thanksgiving carving duty.

What a turkey! What a team!

Yes indeed, Mom 2.0 once again improves upon Mom 1.0. And it's only right to throw in a few props for Dad 2.0 (Preston) for doing the carving honors -- something Dad 1.0 (Jim) has yet to attempt.

In light of the savory success of Megan's turkey brining, I'm thinking about trying out the method soon myself. I just so happen to have a spare turkey in the freezer, happily waiting to be brined and baked.

And maybe -- just maybe -- Jim will be happily waiting to try out carving the bird himself once it's done.

These kids of mine continually amaze me. I thought I was the one who was supposed to be teaching them a thing or two, yet they've been pretty darn good so far at teaching me a thing or two. For starters, that soaking a turkey in salt water really does make it more moist.

And that it really is possible to run a 5k in the morning and still get Thanksgiving dinner on the table by early afternoon. Doing both while pregnant.

Did I mention that my kids continually amaze me?

Today's question:

What's something you've learned from one you're more typically in charge of teaching (a child, grandchild ... pet?)?

Tradition, tradition!

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In the box of papers, pictures, and greeting cards Granny saved that Jim and I took home after cleaning out the last of her possessions was a manilla envelope. Inside the envelope were original copies -- entire newspaper sections -- of the first articles I ever published. Nestled neatly among my first (Mosh-pit mom, Oct. 1994), second (Get this: Confessions of an online addict, Oct. 1995), and third (Stranger in our midst, 1997) published articles was a publication not bearing my words, but the published work of my then fifth-grade daughter, Megan.

The booklet treasured by Granny the past 16 years was a staple-bound school creation called Author Share: A journal for aspiring authors grades K-5 that Megan had sent her. In the "Traditions" chapter of this special "Holiday Issue 1994" was the following tidbit:

Traditions always have been, always will be an important part of our family.

An even more important part is Granny. Although no longer capable of rushing to the car to help with luggage, no longer able to participate in holiday celebrations at all, Granny continues to loom large in our hearts, ever so prominent in our Thanksgiving memories.

Today's question:

If you could magically have one special guest join your Thanksgiving festivities -- someone not already participating in this year's celebration -- whom would it be?

Liar or storyteller?

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Does nabbing Mommy's bag of chips and running away (with his mouth full!) make Bubby a thief, too?Megan called late Sunday afternoon.

"Guess what Bubby just told me," she said. (See, she still does the "Know What?" thing.)

"What?"

"Bubby told me PawDad was drinking beer ... at Gramma's."

"What?"

"And Bubby said Gramma was drinking beer, too."

First, the backstory for those who don't know: Bubby came to visit Gramma and PawDad in the mountains at summer's end. Without Mom or Dad. Which is why Megan wasn't too sure about what her son was telling her.

Her tone wasn't accusatory, but with a plethora of alcoholics in our extended family, I clearly picked up on an underlying WTH? in Megan's question.

"That's weird. Dad and I certainly weren't drinking any beer while Bubby was here. And I seriously doubt he saw it in the bar since he never even went near it while here. I have no idea why he'd say that."

Yes, we have a bar. And yes, it's stocked with a fair amount of beer ... and liquor. Everyone in my house is pretty responsible about drinking, so it's no big deal we indulge now and then. But Jim and I certainly didn't indulge while Bubby was here. That would not have been responsible.

Megan knows us pretty well -- we are her parents, for heaven's sake -- so she believed me and that was that. No biggie. I do understand that as a concerned parent, she had to ask. Just in case.

Then Megan put Bubby on the phone.

"Hi, Gramma!" he bubbled.

"Hi, Bubby! What are you doing?"

"We're going shopping!"

"Shopping!? What are you going shopping for?"

"COOKIES! Chocolate CHIP cookies," he shouted.

"Oh yeah? Are you having chocolate chip cookies for dinner?" (I was just kidding, just being silly, of course.)

"Yeah! Chocolate chip cookies for dinner!" he confirmed.

"Yum! You enjoy your chocolate chip cookies for dinner. I'll talk to you later, Bubby. I love you!"

"I wuh woo," he said, then gave the phone back to Megan.

"Cookies for dinner?" I asked her.

"No. He's a little liar!" she said with a chuckle. "I have no idea what he's talking about."

"Yeah, I don't know what he's talking about either. Oh well. You go enjoy your chocolate chip cookies for dinner."

"Okay. You go enjoy your beer! Talk to you later!"

End of story, end of interrogation.

So what's up with that? Is my two-and-a-half-year-old grandson a little liar, trying to get his mommy and his grandma in trouble with each other?

Or is Bubby simply a silly little storyteller, exercising his imagination and making up tales of goofiness?

I suppose either case might be okay at this point because if not, it's woefully clear that I failed miserably in teaching my daughter how to serve balanced meals to her family!

Today's question:

Do you think toddlers lie? Do you think they understand the concept of lying?