What I learned this week: Love in action

As I mentioned last week, it's important to learn new things all the time — even if you have to dig deep to define after the fact what those lessons have been.

This week, I learned quite a bit about copy editing for a website that's not mine, as I started new online gig as a copy editor for SheKnows.com. Expounding on that lesson would be quite boring to many of you, I'm sure, so I have another lesson I learned this week that I'd like to share. (Yes, I did indeed learn two things this week!)

Here is what I learned this week: I learned that if I keep my iPhone close by, move quickly, and not let the subjects notice I think it's a big deal, I can catch love in action.

Love between Mickey (one of my dogs) and Abby (one of my cats):

 

This post linked to Grandparents Say It Saturday.

 Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

Photo replay: Another year older

Jim's birthday — March 2, 2013

Today's question:

What has been your favorite age so far?

Like mother, like daughter?

How are your kids like you?

My friend Lisa from Grown and Flown wrote an excellent piece on exactly that question this past week. Long after reading Lisa's thought-provoking post, I pondered again and again just how my daughters might be like me. I considered just how different they are from me, too.

Brianna, my eldest, is quite similar to me in many ways. From the time she was quite young, my younger daughters — and sometimes Jim, too — called Brianna "Mom 2" because she was a bossy little thing and always stepped in to control her sisters and unsavory situations if I didn't. Occasionally even when I did, to be honest. Brianna enjoys the same books and movies as I do. She has many other similar likes and dislikes, and many of my same mannerisms, too.

Megan, my middle daughter, is the least like me of all my girls. We're quite opposite in the most fundamental of likes and dislikes. She likes to shop; I don't. She likes to talk on the phone; I don't. She runs marathons, and I feel like I'm doing pretty well if I manage to walk the dogs around the neighborhood. The one area she is very much like me, though — which she may or may not willingly agree — is in our approach to motherhood and the parenting principles we hold dear. Since being a mom has been my most important role so far, I guess that in the end, Megan may be the daughter most like me after all.

Andrea, my youngest ... well, Andrea is a nut. The biggest nut of all my daughters. And the one that is probably most like me in many ways. Many ways that make us butt heads yet still consider the other among our most loved and loyal fans. We're both born under the astrological sign of Cancer, so perhaps that's part of it. Of my favorite resemblences: Andrea and I enjoy the same kind of music. The mix CDs she would send me from college are some of my most treasured possessions — and not just because I loved the music.

That's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to our similarities and differences. I'm continually impressed by the ways my daughters are different from me, always pleased by the ways they mimic me — even when they balk at the thought they, heaven forbid, do and say things just like their mother at times.

In their words and their actions, it's fairly easy to see how my daughters take after me. Physically, though, is a different story. I'll leave it to you to decide which daughter looks most like her mother. If you ask me, there's not a bit of resemblance between any of us.

Like mother like daughter? From the top: Brianna, Megan, Andrea

Today's question:

In what ways do your kids resemble you, physically or otherwise?

Reheated comfort food

As is the case with many flu- and bug-stricken folks around the country, the last few weeks have been a battle for me as I struggle with super bugs of dizzying sorts that I just can't seem to lick.

Yesterday, though, I felt a bit better than I have been. At least enough to actually cook dinner, compared to the frozen foods and fast foods Jim and I have been feasting on for far too many meals.

Considering I was still feeling fairly cruddy, it should be no surprise that I chose to make one of my favorite comfort foods: biscuits and gravy.

While I stirred the gravy, sausage bits swirling around the spoon as I waited for the milky goodness to get thick and creamy, I considered how much I love biscuits and gravy, how much comfort it provides when I feel not quite myself, physically or otherwise.

Yet I wouldn't give biscuits and gravy top billing on my list of favorite comfort foods, for that belongs to another dish.

I wrote about that particular dish — my very most favorite of all comfort foods — for Victoria magazine nearly 15 years ago. (Well, it was actually for the "Friends of Victoria" reader newsletter, which is neither here nor there, though, as I was paid just the same.)

Because my brain is still rather foggy and creative juices haven't been flowing well of late, I decided that today I'd simply share with you that little story of my favorite comfort food, word for word as published by Victoria magazine.

It goes like this:

A Taste of the Past

Simple pleasures are the best

I remember days from my childhood walking home from school for lunch through the frozen Minnesota landscape. Snow covered the ground and a thin crust of ice formed across the top. As I balanced each step, I tried to guess how long I could stay atop the snow before the crunchy crust gave way.

After trudging through the cold, I was greeted by an unexpected welcome. Inside our old farmhouse, bowls of warm macaroni and tomato sauce awaited my brothers, sisters, and me. Perfectly cooked, perfectly plain elbow macaroni bathed in brilliant red tomato sauce straight from the can, with just a sprinkling of salt.

What Mom prepared for us those winter days was love pure and simple, no extras added. In my memory, those simple lunches must have been right around Christmas, because I remember the contrast of the red sauce and the white of winter making a lasting impression.

Ever since then, I've turned to macaroni and tomato sauce whenever I'm in need of comfort. My high-school boyfriend and I used to enjoy it as an after-school snack, although his mother tried to convince me to add a little butter to my simple recipe. The butter makes it creamier and better, she explained, but to me, it no longer tasted like Mom's.

When I was pregnant with my first daughter, there were times I felt scared about my future role as a mother. Many days were comforted by the simple taste of home and those early memories of Mom boiling up a pot of elbow macaroni.

Now that I have three daughters and a slightly more sophisticated approach to cooking than I did in my first few years of marriage, I rarely make macaroni with tomato sauce. Our tastebuds prefer a bit of basil, a hit of garlic, or a sprinking of cheese — and elbow macaroni is rarely the pasta of choice these days.

But there are days when the kids are in school and I'm home from work that my husband comes home for lunch. If either of us feels under the weather, we satisfy our craving for comfort by cooking something simple. The first thing we reach for is the macaroni and tomato sauce — always kept on hand for just such emergencies. The soothing smell seems to curb some of life's worries and I find great satisfaction in knowing that my husband's enthusiasm for my lunch of choice is as strong as mine.

It is then I am completely reassured that I've made the right choices — in meals and in men.

— Lisa Carpenter, December 1998

Today's question:

What's at the top of your list of comfort foods?

Friday free-for-all: Come vent with me

Come vent, whine, give kudos—to others or yourself—or anything your heart desires today. It's been a rough week. Now is the time and consider this the safe place to share whatever you choose for our Friday free-for-all.

As the grandma in charge, I have the honor of going first. Here is what's on my mind at the moment:

Photo courtesy Paola Gianturco• I'm nervous. I'm writing this yesterday (funny how such things work) but I'm nervous about today. I have the privilege of spending the day in Denver with Paola Gianturco, an amazing photojournalist who has published five books focusing on women. Her latest, Grandmother Power, is all about grandmothers around the world, and I've been invited to be her guest at a slide presentation about the book, her incredible adventures and her photography. This woman rocks—just look at her website and you'll agree. I'm nervous because I want to do right by her in all things I share afterward about her, her book, and our day together. I'm also nervous because I rock not even one-quarter as much as she does and I hope I don't bore the <cuss> out of her. Stay tuned for more—on Paola, not my idiotic nerves and insecurity. (Well, unless I really do bore her to tears.)

• I wish arranged marriages were still socially acceptable. That wish has nothing to do with my son-in-law Preston. Or any other official boyfriend of my daughters.

• I also wish I were more committed to exercising. I was pretty embarrassed to let myself see myself in the full-length mirror at JCPenney the other day. I either need to willingly exercise more often or install a full-length mirror near my shower to shame myself into doing it. Or both.

• I'm so incredibly grateful for friends whom I've never met in person yet have helped me secure (paying) writing and editing gigs. Thank you, Lisa, Mary Dell, and Carol.

• I'm still praying my grandsons fully recover from the crud. Bubby's cough—but hopefully not the flu—has returned and now he's doing breathing treatments, too.

 

• I'm also still praying for our fellow grandma Kelley, whose three new grandbabies were recently diagnosed with RSV. Everyone here is welcome to send prayers and positive thoughts her way, too.

There you have it. I feel better already. It's always nice to get things off your chest. Now it's your turn!

Today's question:

What's on your mind/heart/chest today?

The flu and what I didn't do

I have a tendency to think rules and statistics don't apply to me. Not because I consider myself above others, but simply because I prefer to be an optimist and assume good things will happen, not bad.

Most times such positive thinking yields benefits. Recently, though, such positive thinking left me laid up and sick as a dog.

(Quick aside: As I pet my dogs yesterday morning while in my sickly state, I pondered that phrase, as my dogs are never sick. The phrase makes no sense.)

Anyway, what happened is this: For quite some time, I had it on my calendar to go visit Bubby and Mac at the end of January. Then, days before my visit, Bubby was confirmed as having the flu, and it was highly likely Mac would come down with it, too. The question arose regarding if I should cancel the trip, considering my MS and what exposure to the flu might do.

I chose to visit them anyway. I assured my daughter—their mother—there was no need to worry because I'd be just fine. And when Mac avoided the flu but came down with bronchiolitis during my visit, I again assured my daughter I'd be just fine.

And I was fine—while I was there. The day after I returned home, though, the super bugs from those little boys settled in, leaving me, well, sick as a dog.

So yesterday, in my sick-as-a-dog state, what did I do? Well, of all the things I should have done, here is what I didn't do:

• I didn't walk my dogs.

• I didn't write the book reviews I need to write.

• I didn't comment on the blogs I should have.

• I didn't complete three articles I was on deadline to write.

• I didn't shower until 4 p.m. (Though I did brush my teeth.)

• I didn't put on makeup nor do my hair after that shower.

• I didn't email sources for an article I need to write.

• I didn't respond to the gazillion emails I should have responded to.

• I didn't write the half-gazillion emails I should have written.

• I didn't read.

• I didn't write.

• I didn't even listen to any music.

What did I do?

I sat on the couch, wrapped up in an afghan with one of my cats, each of my (non-sick) dogs on their beds nearby and watched episode after episode of Downton Abbey—a show whose spell I didn't think I'd fall under but figured I'd see what all the hoopla is about.

What did I learn?

I learned that the rules and statistics do apply to me. Especially when it comes to catching the flu. Doubly that when it comes to being charmed by Downton Abbey.

(Though I've yet to learn why 'sick as a dog' is an acceptable phrase.)

photo: Marin-FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Today's question:

When were you last sick as a dog?

Friday fun: Keep Your Heart Young

I heard this song—this artist, actually—for the very first time yesterday. Where have I been?

I really enjoy this song and thought you might, too. Just a little something sweet and simple for Friday.

Keep Your Heart Young — Brandi Carlile

My grandpa gave me a wheat penny and I kept it in my pocket

Had big plans in my backyard to build me a space rocket

Talked to my brother on a fake CB that I made from a tic-tac box

Packed my snowballs nice and tight and in the middle I put rocks

Don't trade in your tic-tac box for a ball on the end of the chain

And don't go spending grandpa's pennies buying into the game

You gotta keep your heart young

Don't go growin' old before your time has come

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young

Dad took the wheels off of my bike and he pushed me down a hill

But speed got the best of me and I took my first spill

That was back when alcohol was only used on cuts

Stung like hell so I shook my leg and mama said it would give me guts

Don't trade in your tic-tac box for a ball on the end of the chain

And don't go spending grandpa's pennies buying into the game

You gotta keep your heart young

Don't go growing old before your time has come

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young

So take a picture of the one you love and put it in a locket

Go dig up your time capsule and the blueprints for your rocket

Keep in touch on a fake CB and that same old tic-tac box

Pack your snowballs a little less tight but in the middle still put rocks

And keep your heart young

Don't go growing old before your time has come

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young


You gotta keep your heart young

Sometimes you don't die quick

Just like you wished you'd done

The love is a loaded gun

You've gotta keep your heart young

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young

# # #

Today's question:

What's one of your treasured memories of your grandfather?