Scoring points and breakfast in bed

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One of the things I'm really enjoying about Bubby as he gets older is the conversations we have. His conversational skills improve by leaps and bounds in between each and every visit I have with him. I love the unique expressions he uses, as well as those that make it clear he's mimicking Mommy or Daddy without really knowing what the phrases mean.

One example of the latter was when Bubby mentioned that he couldn't eat a particular food—I can't recall what food or even what the conversation involved—and told me that it wasn't a good food choice because it had "thirty-fifty-hundred points" in it. Seems Mommy's attention to points associated with food, per the Weight Watchers plan she's kept an eye on since having Mac, has left quite the impression on Bubby.

Not that our conversations always featured food, but there was another time Bubby impressed me with his conversational skills...and his memory. At breakfast one morning, Bubby took a bite of his peanut-butter toast which he'd topped with a piece of the Count Chocula cereal Gramma had bought him as a treat.

"Mmm...it tastes just like my birthday cereal," he said.

Seems one of the birthday rituals for Bubby is that he gets to choose his breakfast cereal. It's a treat because Bubby doesn't usually get to eat the sugary cereals (like the Count Chocula Gramma bought him), and he had chosen Reese's cereal for his birthday breakfast in June.

"Mommy and Daddy brought it to me in my room," he continued with the story of his birthday breakfast.

"You had breakfast in bed on your birthday?" I asked him.

"Yeah! I got to eat in my room!" he enthusiastically shared, the memory of the happy meal glimmering in his eyes.

I asked him if Mommy and Daddy stayed or if he ate alone in his room. "No! Roxy [his dog] stayed with me," he said, "but I didn't give her any food."

"That's pretty awesome," I told him.

But I didn't really think so. At least not for me. I don't like breakfast in bed. While it's supposed to be a relaxing treat—and my daughter obviously thinks so, as she treated her son to it for his birthday and he thoroughly enjoyed it—I disagree.

I happily accept meals prepared for me any time of the day, any day of the year. But I don't want to eat them in bed. Alone. For one thing, it's hard to eat in bed—even with a nifty tray Jim purchased for that one occasion. Secondly, it's lonely when it's only the one being honored nibbling on her toast and worrying about spilling her coffee in the covers, all alone, with no one to talk to (and not even room to spread out the morning paper to read while eating).

Nope...breakfast in bed is no treat for me.

But it was for Bubby. And hearing about his awesome Reese's cereal in bed that he didn't share with anyone, not even Roxy, made me smile.

As does most everything Bubby says.

Well, except for all those comments he recently made about my age. The art of polite conversation is a skill Bubby has yet to master.

I'm assuming mastering polite conversation won't be difficult for Bubby, though, as he easily picked up the complex concept of avoiding foods with a high number of points. Especially those with thirty-fifty-hundred points.

Today's question:

How do you feel about being served breakfast in bed?

Make apple butter in the crockpot? I did it!

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Inspired by this post from Mamal Diane plus a surplus of apples, I decided to make apple butter last weekend. It was much easier than I ever expected and far more delicious than store bought. It's also the most recent addition to my Recipe Box.

Enjoy! And please do let me know if you try a batch yourself.

 

 

 

 

Musings on eating, with two hands

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If not for that well-placed comma in today's post title, you just might think what follows will be all about double-fisted dining. That's not it at all. Today I'm spouting recent thoughts I've had on the contradictions related to kids and how they eat. Or don't eat.

On one hand (this is the "two hands" part), we all know about, are concerned about the frightening statistics on childhood obesity today. The issue tops the list of those addressed by our first lady, health and welfare organizations, doctors, school lunch programs. Most importantly, it's something on the minds of many a parent and grandparent.

We all want our kiddos to eat less, move more, be in better shape overall. Privately as well as publicly, we show concern that kids are exercising too little, eating too much.

That's on one hand.

On the other hand, always on the minds of mothers and grandmothers, more so than anyone, is how the heck to get our little ones to eat. Especially when it comes to toddlers. They don't seem to eat when we want them to or what we want them to.

In direct contrast to the obesity issue, there's the continual concern on the part of many a frazzled parent or grandparent that a child isn't getting enough food. There are books, magazines, websites, television programs dedicated to helping figure out how to get some food into the mouths and tummies of those tiny tots so they can grow up big and strong.

We beg, plead, cajole, bribe, sometimes even punish, all in the name of getting Junior to eat. I'm not talking about just veggies and other healthy foods. If you regularly enjoy the company of a child under the age of five, you likely know what I mean.

My oldest grandson is the very pickiest of the pickiest kids I have ever met. That darn kid doesn't like pudding...or whipped cream...or jello. He doesn't like jelly on his peanut butter sandwiches. He refuses to eat cheese quesadillas if the brown spots on the tortilla are noticeable. And he has never, ever had a hamburger—not even as part of a McDonald's Happy Mealin. Not in his entire life. Seriously. "I don't like them" is his response when asked why. How he knows that is your guess as good as mine, since he's never had so much a nibble of a burger.

Yet he does like avocados, broccoli, salmon. A kid can't live on those things alone, though. Well, they probably could...maybe...but that's not being realistic. So his mom and dad (and grandma and other caregivers, at times) spend inordinate amounts of time and energy trying to get the kid to eat. Anything. I used to think Megan was making it up. Then I spent extended time with Bubby and came away wondering—still wonder—how he manages to stay alive much less thrive.

Then there's his brother. My youngest grandson. My Mac. The happiest little eater ever. Mac dives right in, willing to experience all things edible—plus things non-edible at times, too. He even dipped into the salsa dish just like the big boys when we recently visited a Mexican restaurant. Sure, he once famously sneered and snarled at strawberries, but he gobbled them right up the very next day, so those Grandma served up just must have seemed exceptionally tart to him.

Mac enjoys food, enjoys eating. Nearly anything. Megan sent me the following photos the other night of Mac happily trying out a new recipe she had cooked up.

 

Bubby greets Mommy's new recipes with disdain; Mac delights in them, requires a big fork to to satisfy his big appetite.

On one hand there's Bubby, who refuses to eat. On the other hand there's Mac, who eats anything and everything.

On one hand there's the problem of childhood obesity and the need to get kids to eat less and better. On the other hand there's the frustration and desperation many parents face in trying to get their kids to eat anything at all.

Parenting can be a challenge, and never more so—nor more conflict-ridden—than when it comes to kids and food. The getting them to eat, but not eat too much.

Just one more reason I'm glad I'm Grandma to little ones, not Mom. I get to muse; Megan/Mom gets to wring her hands while trying to figure out how to make her kids eat—just not too much.

Today's question:

What has been your bigger challenge as a parent or grandparent: Getting kids to eat less and more healthy or getting them to eat anything at all?

Just added to the Recipe Box: Shortbread Cookies

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I love those shortbread/butter cookies you get in a tin around the holidays. These cookies are the closest thing I've found to the store bought. So, so good. And so, so addicting. Try them yourself. I think you'll agree. Find them (well, the recipe for them) in my Recipe Box.

The Saturday Post: Happy birthday edition

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Julia Child's birthday was this past Wednesday. She would have been 100 years old. In honor of her birthday, PBS cooked up this:

Today is the birthday of my very own Julia Child, the Julia Child of our family: Brianna. She turns 30 years old today! I'm nowhere's near as talented as PBS in cooking up birthday fun, but I'm hoping Brianna's birthday celebration will end up being just as tasty and fun as the mashup above. At least to Brianna.

Happy birthday to Brianna!

And to Julia Child.

And happy Saturday to the rest of ya!

Enjoy!

Bunches o' birthdays

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In the past month, my family and I have celebrated four birthdays. Mac and Bubby each have a birthday at the beginning of June, which we celebrated with a patio party—including water balloons and hot dogs—during their recent visit. Then my birthday took place at the end of June while my grandsons were still here, and Andrea's birthday was this past Monday.

Because we were doing a combo celebration of Mac's and Bubby's birthdays—they had celebrated with individual birthday parties at home—I created a combo cake. Both boys, like their PawDad, love, love, love M&Ms, so an M&M cake it had to be. I topped the M&M bedecked cake with a celebratory banner that said "Happy Birthday, <Bubby's real name>!" on one side and "Happy Birthday, <Mac's real name>!" on the other. Then I stuck in the appropriate numeral candle for each, and it did the double duty I had hoped, honoring them both and giving each their own candle to blow out from their own side of the cake.

Brianna did the honors supplying the cake for the other two celebrations—a delicious candy-topped ice cream cake for my big day, and homemade Sour Patch cupcakes, per Andrea's request, for Andie's birthday. I'm considering cake ideas to return the favor to Brianna when her birthday rolls around mid August.

All in all, our month filled with bunches o' birthdays was bunches o' fun.

Today's question:

What season has the most birthdays in your family?

This post has been linked to Mosaic Monday.