Moving On Up!

Hello, Hello! The Wheel is Moving to a new site!

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Love to all!

Jennie

If Momma Ain't Happy...

Yay!  I have a very cool new phone, which takes great pictures, so I am getting back on the blog!  (I think my rants are probably boring without a photo or two.)

It has been a busy fall.  We pulled one of our daughters out of our current school, after she was accepted into a rigorous and wonderful program for Dyslexic students.  I had some minor surgery...(I'm fine!  But taking it easy for 4-6 weeks is NOT easy!)...and Captain America is still paying "catch up" at Job A for serving the country this summer at Job B.  Needless to say, it has not been smooth sailing...but we're sailing!

I'm really looking forward to tomorrow.  For the first time in as long as I can remember, I have a free day.  I am going to do a mountain of laundry. I am going to clean the house. I am going to prepare to welcome my man home after yet another week away.  (Side note:  consider how you feel after a few hours in an airport...the food, the variety of people, the chaos, the germy ick factor.)  Now do that every day for a week, week after week. Yes, my husband gets home cooked meals for every meal when he is home, and yes, I wait on him.  He is weary, and home is his respite.  That's not being Old Fashioned...it's having compassion.)

Anyhow, I am excited to have time in my home to take care of my family.  I like doing that!

And I know that there are women that HATE doing that.  They view laundry as drudgery (I see their point!).  They have not learned to cook (or they don't like to), and it's a futile exercise that ends up in a seeming failure that no one will eat anyway.  An empty home can be lonely, and void of adult interaction.  There are times when caring for a home is overwhelming and never-ending.

I think it's important that all mothers do what they like and are happy.  Mothers should be able to stay-at-home, or go to work - and we ladies need to support one another in doing that.  I've been a mother for over 11 years now, and I think I see a shift in thinking coming.  I think that I see more and more mothers supporting each other in their decisions to work, or to stay at home.

I for one, do not feel inferior to anyone due to the fact that I am not employed.  I feel empowered that I am living life on my terms!  I could not imagine another woman running my household, or influencing my children.  Also, I respect tremendously the women that I know work out of the home, that love their jobs, and are happy in their marriage and family life.  These women are changing our world, are happy at home, and many have not touched a load of laundry in years!  AND I APPLAUD THEM! Like me, they are living a life of their own choosing.  We are all so lucky!

I do feel awful for those folks that don't have it the way they want it.  I feel for the mother that wants to stay at home, and can not afford to...or for the mother that is trapped at home amid the literal piles of shit, barf and laundry - and would rather be missing that, and pursuing her career.

Remember the rally cry of the child wearing the mismatched outfit to school:  "It's a Free Country!"  We women are lucky to live in this place where we have so many opportunities.  I'll be celebrating my Life On My Terms tomorrow amid the piles of laundry - with some great music on Pandora - and short ribs braising in the oven.  I may get to talk to a friend or two on the phone, and I'll be counting down the minutes, as I have been doing for 18 years now, until I get to see Mike Burke!

And to you beautiful ladies that will be bringing home the bacon tomorrow, I say "Cheers!" and HAVE FUN!

Stars In My Eyes

With little fanfare, I'm back!

This weekend, I took a trip with my VP-8 Midcoast Maine Country Club girls...back to the Scene of The Crime...Maine - (The Beautiful!)- where we lived as Military Wives. We were women without children, with careers, educations, and, circumstantially, husbands that worked in war zones for half years at a time, over and over again. We lived far from our families, and did not know anyone when we moved to Maine. I am tempted to write "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." but really, we all would agree, that it was the best of times.

***

As not to bore those of you who have not heard from me since August of last year - let me cut to the chase.

1. We were eating dinner at the delicious Street and Company in Portland. It was too noisy to talk, so the six of us were just happy to be pretending to be able to hear one another. We are a loud, boozy, opinionated, loving, foul mouthed bunch of sailor's wives, hidden beneath the guise of cute dresses and borrowed, or purchased on big discount accessories. As a waiter took Angela's plate, Ang stared at the copper topped table in disbelief. Slack jawed, she announced, "HOLY SHIT." (That's not even a real swear in this group.) There, stained into the copper-topped table, were the initials of our best friend, Holly Jean Fitzpatrick - who had died six years earlier of cancer, that very day. Waiters and waitresses professed that they had never seen those initials before. They kept coming over to the table to see, goosebumps covering their arms. The stain could not be wiped or cleaned away.

2. That next morning, Mike took a picture with his phone, and sent to me, a map of an  approach that he was shooting in the G-4. I can't remember the name of the airport, but the approach was called the "Holly One Arrival."  This reminded me of Angela following a car with the vanity plate "Holly One" just a few weeks earlier. 

3. Crowded in the car the following night, as song after song from our youthful days together kept popping up on the radio: "Hollaback Girl" - which Holly, Jen Pesut and I danced to late night dressed in drag in men's khaki working Navy uniforms...("This Shit's Bananas! Bee-A-N-A-N-A-S!")...Van Morrison's "Into The Mystic"..."Good Life" by One Republic.  As we listened, a crazy, huge, orange moon rose over Portland...right over Maine Med, where Holly had died six years before.

As we spoke of these signs, my friend Cassie - who is faithful in a naturalist kind of way - said that these kinds of signs are always around us in life. She thinks that many of us are not open to these beautiful signs, because we are so focused on the minutia of our daily lives. It takes an open person, a person with faith in something bigger, to believe in the mystic messages that are sent to us.

***

On one morning of my trip, I had the chance to visit with a very dear Maine teacher friend that is fighting breast cancer. She is one of the best people that I know, and I have complete faith that a cure will be found for her. Her cancer is a difficult cancer to treat, and she is receiving treatment for her third recurrence. We sat outside of her house, and talked "shop" for a while, before heading inside to ohh and ah over the beautiful renovations that she and her husband have done to their home, and to visit with their (of course) Rock Star children. I asked her if she had any other friends that have the same kind of breast cancer that she has. She reported that she did not, and that made me sad, because I really believe that there is strength in unity during times of adversity. Two (or more) women fighting the same kind of breast cancer...or any kind of challenge in life...can help one another. It's important to know someone who has "been there." I made a note to myself to try to find someone for her. My visit with her was very short, and I could have stayed all day - but I was excited for her as I left, knowing her spirit, and the good hands that she is in as she is treated at a world famous cancer research center in Boston. As a matter of fact, I would like for one my my next adventures to be to get to spend a day with her while she receives treatment. As I mentioned earlier, I have faith in a cure for my friend - and I am filled with hope and gratitude for the people that are working so hard to find that cure.

That afternoon, we Navy women toured the places that we had lived. After our Home, Garden and Trespassing Tour, we hit a few favorite stores in Freeport, before hitting the taps at the Beer Garden at Grittys. In the J. Crew Outlet, a sales woman asked me about my Seabag (a ginormo bag made from recycled sails) that has a huge pink ribbon on it. She asked me if it was a breast cancer bag, and if I was a survivor. I told her that I am not a survivor, but that I am the daughter, daughter-in-law, and friend of MANY survivors, and that I am an advocate for Young Adult cancer patents. This woman began talking to me with a sense of urgency and immediacy. She had recently moved to the area and did not know anyone. She was a two year survivor of the exact same kind of cancer as my teacher friend. She did not know anyone in the area with her kind of cancer. I took her information, and I hope to connect these two women, as they piece together their treatments, and wait for their cure.

I was thankful for the little signs...the one that led me to ask for the Seabag for Christmas, the one that led me to my position as an advocate at Ulman Cancer Fund, the one that led me to take that teaching position where I met my friend who is so fiercely fighting, the one that led me to Mike, who led me to my friends, and my children, and these experiences that make me BELIEVE.

***

As I digested the weekend over a breakfast date with Mike (before he was out the door on...A TRIP)...I told him, through tears, that these signs from Holly led me to know that she wants me to know that she is GOOD. She's okay...better than okay - she's awesome - and that I should continue to kick up my heels on this journey. Mike told me that she has been okay ALL ALONG...and that as Cassie said, we need to be open to these bigger signs from above. They surround us often.  This takes practice, and I am looking forward to connecting these beautiful dots. They are stars that string connections between friends, family and strangers that we love - whether we are separated through place or time. It's the connections that matter.  Invisible, I KNOW the connections are there, meaningful, and are GOOD.

I am good, and I hope that you are too!

I promise for future blog postings to be about food, or some mess that the kids have made, but for now, I send warm greetings, a whole lot of peace, and wishes for many songs, friends, signs and stars in your life.

Jennie

Ten

I'm still here! How are you?

My oldest child is now "Two Whole Hands" - it's hard to believe how she has grown, and that I've been trying to figgerout how to be someone's mom for ten years now.

My daughter looks so much like she did on the day she was born. When I looked at her, after they had "cleaned her up" - I marveled are her true, perfect beauty. I noticed too that she looked nothing like me. Her skin was perfect, without a blemish, pale, almost liquid, with a pinky flush. Her dainty lips really did resemble rosebuds, and her eyes - I knew her blue eyes would stay blue (and that I had a recessive gene!). She looked just like her dad.

I worked hard to have Maggie. A wonderful chain of events left me "epidural-less" in this modern world. Looking back now, I am thankful to have experienced that pain. In the 17 hours that it took me to have Maggie, I experienced the pain, and the joy, of the world.

I went into the hospital around lunch time, and Maggie was born at 1:04 AM the following day. There was not a lot going on in the Naval Hospital where she was born, and we were joined by many interns and residents who had nothing better to do than observe my agony, cheer me on, and, between my contractions, discuss where they could find the best Happy Hour With Free Food in town. I think there were 15 doctors in that room on the night that Maggie was born.

I do remember things happening quickly. We had been there for a while, and nothing was going on - so Mike went to grab some food and call our parents. In that time, the baby decided to come! A nurse came into my room, and I told her that I was VERY UNCOMFORATBLE. She checked me out and said, "Oh Honey! It's Okay! I'll be right back. I'll get the doctor right now."

In seconds, the lights in the room flashed on, Navy medics came bustling in and out, wheeling in silver trays, flipping switches, having conversations. I think Mike was surprised, when he came kickin' back into the room, tuna sandwich in hand, that IT WAS TIME.

It was time for me to break his neck. I will always remember, when I recall those hours of "active labor," that I had him in a headlock, and that a nurse - and Navy nurse who, at 63 years old was retiring in a week - was repeatedly peeling my arms off of him. Finally, she looked BOTH of us in the eye, and told us: "Listen you two. This is hard work. But hard work often pays off into something wonderful." Her name was Shirley Loesby. I remember her, and the difference that her confidence made in that night for us.

Maggie was born soon after that, and when I gasped for breath and listened for her cry, and held her in my arms in that messy bundle, I though: "Now I know how much my mother loves me."

I love this quote: "With parenting, the days are long but the years are short." So short! It is joyful to nurture children as they grow and change, to remember the times when they were SO SMALL, and to dream their dreams of their happy tomorrows - their best days - with them. Like most beautiful things in life, it's happy and sad at the same time.

Swimming back then...

Swimming now.
Hugging then...

Hugging now.
Happy Ten Maggie. I love every second of getting to know you.

Now Hear This!

My life has a great soundtrack. I love music and I love to sing. When I think of the happiest times of my life, they are usually accompanied in my memory by song. The kids have this funny question for me: "Mom, what song was I born to?" They ask me this not because I played music while I was in labor (Seriously, who would want to miss out on hearing me swear in three different languages at Mike?) but because I often tell them about what song was on when they came home from the hospital, or while we were lounging around the house.

Some of my earliest memories are of shuffling through my parents' stacks of albums. We had The Who, The Beatles, Bob Dylan and The Beach Boys. We had a bunch of Disney albums, too, and "Free To Be, You and Me." We listened to music often. Our record player was wired to work in our basement, and I used to roller skate in circles around Dad's pool table for HOURS to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. I remember some years later, while Dad was watching television in the basement, my friend Marcie and I played the "B" side of a Michael Jackson 45 repeatedly. Without an adult upstairs, we blasted the music and made up a detailed dance. After some time, my dad thumped up the stairs, opened the stereo cabinet, and flipped the switch to the basement speakers "off."

"Do you girls hafta keep playing that disco music over and over again?"

As he disappeared back into the cave of the basement, we fell to pieces upon the revelation that he had been listening to our embarrassing music with us for over an hour.

Two special places where I listen to music are in the car, alone, and on the treadmill. I like to crank it up and rock it out. It's the only place where I can let go! We do upon occasion have dance parties here at the house with the kids. They LOVE it.

Our nomadic lifestyle has introduced us to so many kinds of music. I never would have guessed that I would be a country fan, but during our time in South Texas, that was all anyone listened to. Also, Navy pilots, most of them, are in touch with their inner cowboy. I didn't get it at first, but I do now. Yeah, we listen to country. Likewise, we appreciate Van Halen...another Navy requirement.

Living in New Orleans taught us to appreciate the sound of a horn. A horn can be played by one, alone in the street - in a trio at brunch - with a small ensemble at Snug Harbor - or when you are swilling at Maple Leaf with your girls while wearing Mardi-Gras-beaded-bras and jamming to Rebirth. JAZZ! My favorite Jazz anthems are, of course, When The Saints Come Marching In, and A Closer Walk With Thee. It makes me happy to hear a horn, and to think of how much I love and miss New Orleans and my friends there.

A lot of kids from my school liked The Grateful Dead. My brothers did. I'm happy to listen - but I always think of a teacher from school who called them "Hicks On Drugs." I really love hanging out in my parents' yard, with my brothers and their families, while listening to the Dead. My brother Matt also has this really funny theme from Widespread Panic where he starts running wild and doing crazy things on the diving board. I can hear it in my head, and it makes me cackle.

Dave Matthews reminds me of Heather, my sister-in-law, and of my year teaching in Virginia in 1995, when Dave was a local boy exploding. Luther VanDross = Jen Pesut. Beastie Boys = Cassie. Angela is like me - she'll listen to all of it.

Certain bands are required at BC - can you guess what they are? I'd call U2 the official band of Boston College. I don't know how I became so entangled with all of these Irish Catholics in my life, but I'm glad to be here. Boston and Aerosmith were required listening at tailgates. If you were under 21, apparently a case...a SUITCASE of warm Pabst Blue Ribbon was required too. Yuck.

The sound of a bag pipe reminds me of my dad and my family heritage - and of the time that I walked down a grassy hill and graduated from McDonogh School. I would really dig it if my boy learned the bagpipes...and the horn.

My mom is a California girl. California seems like outer-space to me. It's hard for me to believe sometimes that my mom lived much of her life there. But you know, when I think of California in the late 50's and early 60's, I think of surfer girls, and Woody station-wagons, blonde hair-dos, and sunshine. My mom IS sunshine. I hear a peppy Beach Boys tune, and I can't help but to crank it up, roll those windows down, and shake it like my mom in the kitchen. Of course this loses some of it's appeal in January when rounding the corners of the gray and white-caped bay.

Mike and I like the alternative vibe. We like our music loud with a bit of an edge, and some bitterness. I prefer to add Motown and Disco into that mix to even it out. Mike can't handle too much of that. On Pandora, we like "The Killers" radio. Even the kids like it. There's a song by Muse that the kids demand. They call it "Dad's Favorite Song." It's loud and rocking, and while I love it, I am kind of done with it by the end. But I like that our kids can feel the emotion in good music, and that they want to enjoy and celebrate those feelings.

I have a ton of "cool" kids CDs - some of them were produced by VH1 back in the day - alternative kids music - and we still sing those songs. I remember the more modern "Lullaby" songs that I listened to during those years that I rocked my newborn babies. I hear one of those songs now and it stops me. I think of what I had, what is gone, what I have, and what is coming. It's not a happy feeling...not a miserable one. I'd say it's a feeling of reverence for that time in my life. It takes my breath away and when I hear one of those songs. I am reminded of moments I enjoyed deeply, that I will never be able to experience again.

We like the gift of music, too. Mike and I were "mix tape" experts during our years apart. Now, some friends have made legendary collections of music. My friend Jayne Giese made "the baby CD" when she had a baby. All of her friends without babies demanded copies. Angela made "Girlfriends" and apparently she made "Girlfriends 2" but we never got it. Sage Murnane made "Burkes to New Orleans"...and Mike made "Holly" on the year anniversary of her passing. I wish she could have had a copy! The famous moving CD that Jill Shiflet made for me, featured one of my favorite songs, "Forever My Friend" by Ray LaMontaigne. It started with the "Call to the Post" for the Kentucky Derby, and the kids and I listened to that CD for two days across the Apalacian Mountains. Music ties us together. Music enhances the memory of the things that happen to us. Music adds to the joy of the present, and can inspire our actions.

And in case you were wondering who MY musical alter ego is? Well, many of you already know this. It's Lenny Kravitz! Download "Stop Dragging Around" and jam with me!

G'Night!

Plenty To Go Around

Wait'll you hear this one.

Our girls have started dancing with a new Irish dance company this year. The company produces champion dancers, and is taught by A MAN. Most of his classes are in DC - but he does travel to Annapolis to teach our group of girls. This Saturday, we went into Washington to participate in the annual recital, with all of the champion dancers, and the "Big Girls" from Washington.

Now, if you've seen Irish dance, you know that having curly hair is part of the costume. My girls all have MY hair, poker straight (but I'll bet you didn't know that Mike has wavy hair, like his mother...he just keeps it so short that you can't tell). SO, I have to do their hair for dance. The problem here is that I don't do hair. I have so much of it, and it's so straight, that I have never bothered to do it. I don't know how to do it, and it makes me impatient.

Luckily, my dear sister-in-law Heather is one of four BEAUTIFUL, girly girls...and they DO do hair. So Heather did my girls hair before the show. It took her a long time, and it looked beautiful. Her daughter, my niece Annabelle, dances with Maggie and Caroline...so they all got ready together. We did decide to NOT put their costumes on, as they would probably get dirty in the car, or at dinner beforehand with my aunt.

When Heather was done with hair bonanza, we all rushed about, late, piling into cars. Mike had actually just returned to Annapolis from DC, where he had been doing his Navy job. Rush, rush, rush, we pile into two minivans and tear towards DC. New York Ave is a nightmare. The traffic is so bad that I feel like I can not breathe. I wonder how folks LIVE and WORK in DC. Traffic CRAWLS along even on a Saturday afternoon. It's crazy. We drive and drive. We were to meet Kiki at 3:30, and it is now 4:00. We call Kiki (my aunt) and she assures us not to worry. She is holding a table, it will be alright.

FINALLY, we find spots in a cramped underground parking garage. In the creepy and cramped catacombs of the garage we lose my brother and his family. We know we will just meet them at the restaurant. The kids unload from Ruby, and I go around to the trunk to get the bags that I have packed of snacks and activities and games for the long time that the girls will have to wait backstage. I reach for the case that contains video and digital cameras. I search for the bag containing their costumes. Their costumes. My heart sinks. Scratch that. My heart PLUNGES and a picture flashes in my mind of the bag with the costumes. It is under the hall entry table in my brother's house. I put it there when we decided not to get the girls dressed. I did not bring it with us when we left.

"Mom, where is the costume bag?"

"I left it at Uncle Matt's house."

"WHAT?!"

"I left it at Uncle Matt's house. I forgot it. I know right where it is. It escaped my mind in all the rush. I forgot it. I am so sorry girls."

Mike rounds the corner from the driver's side. "What's going on?"

"Mike, I forgot their costumes at Matt and Heather's."

He rubs his forehead. He rubs his hair. He rubs his eyes. He inhales. He sighs.

"Where is it in their house?"

"Under the front hall table."

"I got it. Kids, go with your mother. Jennie, I got it. I'll call you."

And with that, he escorts us to the elevator to get us above ground, then he turns back to the car.

I go to meet my family for dinner. Everyone feels terribly for me. They tell me not to blame myself...that my life is very busy...that it's impossible to do everything by one's self...that we can find extra costumes. My daughters are completely forgiving. Their demeanor is of disappointment for themselves. I know what they are feeling...that while the other girls are cavorting backstage in their costumes and with their makeup, they will be in their jeans, wondering if they will even get to dance. They do not attack me...but none of us smile through what was meant to be a festive dinner with our family.

After dinner, we walk through the Georgetown streets to the Holy Trinity Church. We pass a man shaking a cup for change, and I tell my girls that he doesn't have a place to sleep tonight. They hold my hands.

We check them in backstage. They ask me, "Mom, will Dad get here with our costumes?" I remember the stifling traffic. I think of the hour and 45 minutes that it took us to travel the normally 40 minute drive into town. I think of Mike, on his second "in-and-out" from the city. I say, "Girls. I do not know if your costumes will be here. But I believe your father is a super-hero, so if there's any chance that they can get here, he will get them here."

And you know that he came back with that bag. He made it back in time for the beginning of the show. His dinner: a cup of cheddar cheese cubes that I took from the "refreshment" bar and a Sam Adams. Our girls danced, arm in arm with their cousin about half an hour after that.

I forgot the costumes. I busted my ass all day for that event, and I thought I forgot the most important part...but I realize now that I did not forget. The most important part of any journey is understanding. I took the blame, all on my own, for forgetting those dresses. No one blamed me, no one yelled at me, no one wanted to hurt me. Mike as usual, picked up my bits and pieces and glued the china back together.

On the way home, we talked about what a good lesson it was for our kids. We talked about how no one gets anywhere by yelling, or throwing tantrums, or blaming others. We talked about how happy life can be when we help and support one another.

At our wedding, the priest talked to Mike and me about blame. He said, "When you're looking for blame, there's always plenty to go around." We have relied on this lesson many times during our near 15 year marriage. Mike admitted that there were many ways that other family members (the girls, or him) could have helped take responsibility for getting all of our gear into DC. We also talked about how we probably would have been "harder" on the girls had they been the ones that had forgotten their costumes. It was like we were reminded to be forgiving. We were reminded to blame ourselves, and to forgive ourselves and others.

Sitting next to Mike, surrounded by our children, and Matt and Heather, and my aunt...watching our girls dance...listening to the music...my world was overflowing with love. I took comfort in the knowledge that there is so much of that to go around.

Snow Cream

My friend Julie Winter used to follow the blog...you still out there, Julie?! Anyway...this is her recipe. Lots of fun and easy for the littles!

And yes, Julie's last name really is WINTER...and yes, the brand of milk really is SNOWVILLE. Enough already, people!

Okay, Charles...make a sweet treat for your ladies!

He gets 5 cups of (preferably) clean snow. Add a cup of 1/2 and 1/2 or whole milk...a 1/2 cup of sugar, a teaspoon of vanilla and a pinch of salt. Tweak it to your liking (which means in my language ADD BAILEYS TO ANY GROWN UP CUP...all other ingredients are optional!).

Dream Snow

We have a wonderful babysitter here. She has been our sitter since we moved here - and next year she will be a plebe at USNA - off to pursue her dream of becoming a fighter pilot. She will also be starting on the Varsity Lacrosse team there...yeah, she's got it all.

She was helping me juggle the bunch the other evening, the night before our big storm arrived, and I asked her what her plans were. She explained that a lot of the girls in her grade were getting together at one friend's house to ride out the storm - but that she figured that she would hang in the neighborhood, and be near her family. She said, "I think when you have a lot of snow it's a family time." Such wise words from our wonderful sitter!

I have very fond memories of snowy times with my family when I was a kid. I remember many drives to Deep Creek - and this was before anyone had the option of owning a 4 wheel drive SUV - in our Caprice Classic wagon (sky blue...check, wood paneling...was it an option without?). I remember one instance where Dad had pretty much driven right into two frontal systems colliding. It was a wall of white. It was like someone turned on a huge spotlight, right in our faces, in the middle of a pitch black night. Dad pressed on at a very low speed, wipers ailing under with weight of the precip. He window down, and his hand wiped away the snow. As my brothers and I fought and wrestled in the back, my mother begged us to hush. "This is very difficult driving for your father!" Finally she threw a queen sized comforter over the three of us, under which we proceeded to beat the tar out of each other, muffled and unseen. But it WAS family time, and it IS a happy memory!

I remember another time in the car, on the way HOME from Deep Creek, when Dad was outrunning a storm. A big one (28 inches, I think? The "Blizzard of '78"? They've been talking about that one a lot lately...I realize some of my younger readers were not even BORN then...sigh.). Dad made it to our very street when the snow got to deep. (Dad, Mom, I welcome a guest post from you if you'd like to recount the true details...) But again...family time. I also remember Dad dig, dig, digging the driveway. I appreciate that very much now! Just this weekend I was plowing my way through the porches, as the kids were waving at me and cheering me on from the warmth of our cozy home. "Hey guys! Thanks a lot! Are you being good in there?" (Smile! Wave! Through gritted teeth and frozen lips mumble : "If you ever want to eat again pick up a spoon...or a bowl...and take the 30 minutes to get yourself dressed and get out here and help me!")

I also remember how wonderful it was when the depth of the snow, or the depth of the cold, prohibited us from leaving Deep Creek, or starting the car, and we would have to stay for one more day. It was such a welcome break from the grind just to be together. What did I know of the grind at that age, anyway? Plenty, I guess...life is busy for little kids.

Snow makes life Not Busy. Kind of like summer...in winter. And I LOVE Not Busy...I'll take it!

Taking a walk as the first flakes fall...

Snowballs disappear into the bay...

Oh, I already knew you were an angel...

Family man. Keepin' it real and never a complaint. Our driveway was plowed three times before the snow ended. Love it, love him.

Even had a free day to get together with my brother and his fam...it's a family time!

snOMG!!!

Unless you've been out of the country, or you don't follow the news, you probably know that Maryland has been the center of some good snow storms over the past month. We are expecting our next twenty inches to begin tomorrow! The world is frosted all over. We have not seen the inside of a school since last Friday, and I expect that we will be out for the week. If you think Maryland is not the south, think again: the folks that live and work here have limited experience in moving snow...and driving in it!

We're having a grand time!

Oh, the weather outside...

...is just weather! If this coo-coo for coco-puffs cold snap is making life difficult for you and your fam, here are a few things you can do for your sanity.

1. Before everyone goes to bed, have the kids make a pile. It has to include the hat, the scarf, the mittens, the coat, the shoes and the backpack. In our house, Charles is the "foreman" and he checks to make sure that everyone has their things set for the next morning. It's a huge pain to organize all of that stuff in the morning rush...doing it the night before is fun and funny as we watch Charles march around inspecting to see if everyone is all set for the next day.

2. Also, before you go to bed, see if you can fit a bowl inside your crockpot. If you can, measure water and oatmeal according to the package instructions, put them in the bowl, and stick the bowl in the crockpot. Put WATER in the crockpot, up to the line of where the oats are in the bowl. This will keep the oats from getting crusty. It make take a few times to "get it right" measuring the amount of water that needs to go into the crockpot, but it's worth it! It is SO GOOD...I use Irish Oats...but you can use whatever you like. We put butter, cream, honey or brown sugar, and dried raisins or cherries on top (when the oats are ready in the morning). It's a very filling breakfast...the kids eat maybe a 1/4 cup...but it warms everyone up, and gives me more time to drink my coffee and yell at everyone.

3. NO SOUP FOR YOU! Yes, soup for you! You know, my wonderful friends have influenced me in so many ways. I will always remember my friend Monica (also a blessed mother of four) sharing with me the way mothers entice their children to eat in Guatemala. Monica's family (and Monica) would prepare dinner in the early afternoon. When the littles woke up from their naps, and the bigs returned from school, the house would be filled with the wonderful aroma of a meal, ready and waiting to be eaten. The kids, who were ravenous, would sit right down and eat. They ate what was put before them, and they ate heartily. That made sense to me, and it reminded me of my English cousins who would have their meal at "tea" which was in the afternoon.

I also thought about our "family meals" that took place at 6 PM. The kids were tired and grumpy. They were not hungry, because I had fed them snacks in the afternoon. I hated cleaning and doing the dishes at 7:30 after I had bathed the grumpy kids and put them to bed. I was completely worn by the time that the kids were in bed, and the mess of a barely eaten meal had been put away.

Mike was in the navy when we started having dinner in the afternoon. He didn't like that he "missed the meal" at first (while he was at work)...but he got over it quickly when he saw that our kids were fed, and the kitchen was pretty much cleaned up and we could enjoy some family time together when he came home, he was sold. Also, he's hungry around the clock...he could eat dinner @ 8 AM!

The kids do get a little hungry before bed sometimes. I give them a glass of milk, and sometimes a piece of fruit. If they are REALLY hungry (which happens occasionally) they'll come into the kitchen after everyone else has fallen asleep. It's fun to hang out with just one of them as they have some leftovers.

What does this have to do with winter? Make a pot of your favorite soup, and have it ready to rock when the kids come home. Have the table ready. Let them pour the drinks, and let them nibble on some fruit while they wait for their food to cool. Watch them happily slurp their soup, dip their bread, and glug their milk. Everyone will be warm and happy. Especially you. If you, or your spouse, or both of you work, allow them to enjoy that time with their caregiver. They will be nourished and satisfied when you come home...and maybe you can enjoy some game time, or arts and crafts time, or go for a winter walk together.

I don't have a favorite season. I love the gifts that the winter brings. The bracing temperatures, beautiful snow, warm clothing, the feel of the sun through a window, and the foods that you can really enjoy the most when you need some warming-up are just a few of the gifts that this dark season brings. It's a time to look inward, and pull your brood in a bit tighter.

And drop the heat a little, and pile some extra blankets on the bed before you settle in for that long winters nap! I love the weight of a big pile of blankets, and the cold on my nose as I cavern in.

This bear is off to hibernate! Good Night!

Nourishing Days, and more...

...how could I forget!

Kelly Dowd got me hooked on all of this when she recommended a blog called Nourishing Days to me. It's a beautiful blog to look at, and this lady has some great recipes and hints. Be forewarned that is has a slant of earthiness, frugality, and Christianity...but it's really interesting to read a different take on the American diet and American health.

Maybe you'll pick something up on one of these other blogs that I frequent as well.

And the other thing that is so important for our health is SLEEP! GNight!

Blogs of Note:

http://www.nourishingdays.com/

http://www.thenourishinggourmet.com/

http://kellythekitchenkop.com/

http://www.cheeseslave.com/

http://www.westonaprice.org/

High on Grass (Fed!)

My mother's breast cancer diagnosis has had a profound impact on my life. My mom is the very vision of health. She's rosy-cheeked and energetic, low stress, athletic, trim, and she takes very good care of herself. We were all so shocked in my family when we learned that a suspicious something turned out to be something very serious, real, and potentially deadly.

In the wake of supporting my mom, and my MANY, MANY friends who have been diagnosed with breast cancer, I have read A LOT. Lots and lots and lots. And this is not because I am a research fanatic - it's simply because I am interested in health. I have learned that there are many things that I can do to decrease my chances of getting breast cancer. They involve daily exercise (Yay! And guess what? I'm competing in THREE triathlons this year...one of which is a 70.3 mile half iron-man! More on that insanity later.), limiting my alcohol consumption (BOOOOO! Grrrr. End of Blog. Stomping on Mac in a fit of rage. Angrily peeling out of driveway...catapulting self and convertible off of a cliff in Grand Canyon...)WHY OH WHY CANT I DRINK AS MUCH? (Because booze contains whacked-out plant estrogens, dumb ass...)

I'm sorry. Where was I?

Diet. I have always been interested in nutrition. My mom was on the health band-wagon long before it ever became the in thing. We did not have soda in our house, nor could we have sugar cereals. (She did allow them as a "dessert.") Chips were never around, and we only ate fast food on road trips. Mom didn't preach nutrition...she just served lots of fresh food to us, and we ate together at night. Seems simple enough...but we know how hard it is to plan, organize, and execute family meals in these busy times!

So, I was kind of ripe to be interested in nutrition from the start. In addition to enjoying learning about food-as-medicine, I really love to cook, AND EAT. Mike's Navy career exposed us to cultures and traditions of many locales in our country, and to the traditions and cuisines of people all over the world. One of Mike's favorite dishes to this day is the Pasta Alla Norma that he would eat when he was in Sicily...and I'll never forget the brown bread that we ate in Iceland. I love food and cooking, because to me it represents community, socialization, and even adventure.

My mother's influence on me from my days as a kid at her table, our experiences with different places and cultures, my desire to use food as preventative medicine, and my aspiration to use meal time as a time to enjoy my family really have shaped what I purchase, and how I prepare it. If you are considering making any changes to your diet in the new year, here are a few for you to consider. (Please remember I'm NOT a doctor. I am a person of low to moderate...ah, how 'bout if we just keep it at low...intelligence who likes to read.)

1. Think Out of The Box. The best food for you GROWS, and has been minimally processed.

2. SOYanara! (and kick the corn, too). No, I'm not talking edamame, or that DELCIOUS, AMAZING Eastern Shore Silver Queen corn on the cob. Pick up that box of cereal...or that salad dressing...or the ketchup! Soy and Corn are put into a TON of the foods that are commercially processed. There are conflicting reports on soy and it's relation to breast cancer...but the Asian cultures that eat it have it as tofu, miso, or edamame. They aren't chowing on a few Morningstar Farms Protein Burgers each day. I'm staying away...

as far as corn goes, it too is in everything...and it is fed to the animals that we eat. So is the soy. SO...

3. I choose grass-fed meat, and lots of it. YUM! Pastured meats, and the dairy products that come from them, have been enjoyed by cultures since the beginning of time. Those are the same cultures that survived without obesity, and the myriad of physical and mental health issues that so many folks face today. Hormone-free is a must. We have four women living in this house, we are doing just fine in the estrogen department. I get our meat, eggs, breads, nuts, cheese and dairy products from a farmer that comes to town on Wednesdays. In the summer, I get our fruits and veggies that way too...or at one of the many near-daily farmer's markets that we have here.

4. Full fat, baby...and cultured! Those ancient folks didn't have a fat-free tub of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter laying around...and believe it...it's NOT butter! It's one molecule away from being plastic! REAL butter, from grass-fed cows is good for you! So are full fat cheeses made from raw milk. Our Whole Foods even sells "Pasture Butter" - butter made from cows that graze on grass. It's a beautiful yellow color, and I slather it on sourdough bread for the kids breakfast. I feed our kids organic whole milk too. Everyone of them is rosy-cheeked, active, trim, and healthy.

5. Be proactive...and probiotic. In the olden days, people had to ferment their foods so that it wouldn't go bad. Turns out that fermentation is good for you. REAL sauerkraut, KimChi, pickles, relishes...all of those kind of fermented condiments that they serve you when you eat in other countries as a side dish...that's good for you too. I actually drink buttermilk now. I love it. When you start introducing these tart flavors to your body, you end up craving them...I drink a glass of buttermilk before I go to bed at night. I feel like a lumberjack! SO GOOD!!!

6. Make it at home! And why not? It takes me a total of FIVE minutes to get chicken stock going in my crockpot - it comes from a grass fed chicken - and it's made with organic ingredients - and I CRAVE it. Makes "boxed" stock taste like...well...a cardboard box! Guess what? I make my own ranch dressing (OMG) - takes 30 seconds - my own mayonnaise (Vive La Mayo!) - and I can do apple butter too! So easy, so fun...for me that is. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. But of all the things that I do around this joint, cooking is the thing that takes the LEAST amount of time and reaps the greatest rewards.

Yeah...I'm sure you must imagine what I look like. I eat full fat, raw-milk cheese. I cook with real butter and I drink buttermilk before go to bed. I eat salads with tons of greens, and organic, unfiltered olive oil. I am the poster child for the Carnivorous Appreciation Society of America...so yes, it's hard when I tell people that I have lost fifteen pounds since I started dieting, exercising, and eating modest amounts of what I want. I'm on my way to being down 40, and that's a goal not just for this new year, but forever. I work my butt off raising my family...I deserve to look and feel like I'm living in Heaven On Earth (which I am!).

I am influenced my the book "Nourishing Traditions" by Sally Fallon...and by blogs that support that holistic way of eating (Cheeseslave, Kelly the Kitchen Kop, and the Weston A. Price Foundation). I also DIET. Not fun, but you've got to reduce those calories as you get older. And finally, I break free every once in a while and go for a big plate of hot wings and a pitcher of sweet, cold, Coors Light. (A pitcher for ME that is...Mike has to get his own!) Life is about finding where you are comfortable, and I AM HERE.

Hope you are in that happy place as well...and if you're not...go find it! The only person that can find that joy for you is...YOU!

Actual conversations in the house tonight

Four Year Old, on the steps on the way to bed, holding my hand: "Mom, what's Life all about?"

Me: "Did you just say 'What's LIFE ALL ABOUT?' Okay, HJ. I don't really know. What do you think Life is all about?"

Her: "I think it's about being with you."

Me: "I think you are right. It's about us being together."

There. Mystery solved. Thank you wise one.

Six Year Old, having snuck into kitchen for second dinner after the ladies have gone to bed:

(Eating the pasta that the Nine Year Old made for the family meal.)

"Mmmmm. This is so good. Mom. There are people without food. We have to figure out a way to share this food with them. Can I please have a napkin?"

Philanthropy, gratitude, empathy, and etiquette all in one pasta stuffed mouthful?

I'm seriously relieved to have them here running this show.

Miss me? Well I miss HIM!

One of my many resolutions is to get back on the blog. I love to write, and when I can't, it means that I am neglecting myself usually. It's obvious why!

The time from October to New Year's is abnormally busy around here...so that means that it's insane. I put on Thanksgiving, which is a true joy for me. My mom loves that holiday, so it's really fitting that I love it too. I do not travel to see my parents for Thanksgiving, as it is a holiday that we really love sharing with Mike's mom. We have a bunch of traditions that we tie into the holiday, like getting our tree, and Black Friday shopping...and I LOVE to cook the holiday meal. We also have Kiki here, Joe Ruzecki, and this year Bevin and Dan came as well. It's a wonderful holiday, and it's also the springboard for our completely out-of-control, Big Brown Christmas.

Christmas means many things here. We are a Christ-centered, Catholic family - so there is much discussion about Mary and Joseph, and a tiny baby born in a cold stable. Our children attend a Christian school, so there is much celebrating there as well. We are big Santa believers...I think there is an important lesson to be learned in believing in something that you can not see...so the kids get frenzied about that too. It's a busy, joyful time.

It's also a certain shipping company's biggest season, and that means that Big Mike becomes "Santa's Bitch" as I affectionately call him. With all of the sorting and wrapping, the partying and the baking, and the events and occasions...I do most of these things on my own in this season. It is mentally and physically exhausting, for MJ and for me. We love this holiday - but believe me when I say that we are spent...SPENT... by the time that Santa flies over our home.

Many people ask me "how do you do it?" as I cart my brood from here to there, and we show up at event after event without our hero. I smile, and clink my wine glass, and make a wise-crack of some sort...and that's because there isn't the time to explain that it's an HONOR to be here, sharing in the responsibility of raising a family with Mike. Mike would trade places with me in an INSTANT. He loves to be home. He values time with me and the children more than anything else. When he is away from us, I miss him with desperation...but never for a second do I feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for everyone else.

Mike usually comes home from "work" at the end of the Christmas season on December 24th. By that time, we are all quite worn, and just so ready to see him. I remember his first Christmas with UPS. We were still living in New Orleans (yaaayy!!!) and a big snowstorm had snarled everything in Louisville. I had no family in town (but oh, such wonderful friends) and I kept wondering if Mike would make it home or not. By 1130 pm, I was willing the door to open, and for Mike to walk through it...AND HE DID!!! Santa brought my baby home to me.

Being married to Mike is like having Christmas every day.

...hon, you've grown cold recently!

Applesauce

Yum! We made Alton Brown's recipe from foodnetwork.com. The kids could make it in ten minutes, and we ate it warm.

Peeling...

...and peeling. Gotta get through these apples!

Mashing...
And Mashing...
And making the kitty-cat shaped trick-or-treat lantern drink cider. Silly kids!!!

In The Shape Of A Heart

Eating A Just Picked Peach

Back to the Blog! Camera Fixed!

Unless I am really fired up about something, I find that my blog is much more interesting if I have photos. Now - my camera wasn't truly broken, but I could not find the cord to download photos. We finally broke down and purchased a new one...and I proceeded to dump over 500 pictures off of my camera and on to the Mac!

We are well. So many exciting things happen around here. We are now all able to ride bikes. HJ is on the back of Mike's bike, but still...we can all go for a bike ride together now. That's a big deal for us. The three big kids are all readers - so there is a ton of reading going on every night. That's on top of field hockey, Irish dance, soccer, and piano. We finish field hockey and soccer this month, and pick up right away with swimming. But still...field hockey is three times a week, and soccer is two...swimming is just one, so in the winter, things calm down a little bit, ad that's good, because when the sun goes down, and it's cold outside, I just want to cozy in here!

Mike and I have had a great October. I completed a triathlon and a 60 mile walk, and Mike will run the Marine Corps Marathon on Sunday (his 38th birthday!). We have also become a Navy family again. Mike will is "back in" as Lieutenant Commander, and he will be flying Gulfstreams out of Andrews AFB. We are both happy about this for so many reasons. I'm sure I'll be devoting a few blog entries to our re-entry into the military. Mike - I am VERY HAPPY for you and for US. As you said yesterday, "We are going to have a GREAT TIME!" NB: Mike is back in the RESERVES...we are still a UPS family too!

I'd like to share some pictures from apple picking a few weeks ago. We went up to Larriland Farms, which is right near where I grew up, in Howard County. Mike left on a trip that morning, and the kids were off of school for some reason (it was a Monday). We had a wonderful "day off" together. The weather was beautiful. There were tons of varieties of apples, and the kids loved tasting each kind. We picked 22 pounds of apples!!! After the apples, we headed to these long, rolling rows of raspberries. At first, it seemed as if they were all picked over...but we kept on winding and walking, and we found tons and tons of berries, eventually. The kids loved being free to romp and roam under the warm, sunny sky. HJ took off her fleece, made a pillow, and let me push her along in a wheelbarrow. She was eating handfuls of raspberries as we rolled along. Merrily, we rolled along.

Downey Oshun

That's how we say "Going to the Beach" in Murlhan (Maryland!).  We took a break to the beach this summer courtesy of our friends the Farquhars.  They have a home on Fenwick Island, and they lent it to us for a long weekend.  We had a ball - and were completely worn out at the end of the break.  We played putt-putt, we ate at the Alaska Stand, we hit the waterslides and the boardwalk...it was the stuff that Maryland summer memories are made of.  

Skee-Ball.  The kids loved watching the tickets spit out from the machine after they sunk one.

Four Burkes at the Beach.

Up on the ferris wheel...woaahhhh!

It's sad really that Mike doesn't enjoy these kinds of outings...must be that serious military side that he has...

A big bucket of Thrashers fries, a cold lemonade, the sound of the waves and the songs of the Boardwalk - we'll long for those tastes, sights and smells when winter comes...but we'll still have each other...and we'll find some other wonderful thing to enjoy.

Birthday Girl

I LOVE my birthday!  It's June 14th.  When folks ask me, "Is that Flag Day?"  I say, "It's My BIRTHDAY...and yes, it's Flag Day too."  

Greg and Kelly were really great, and dropped us off in NYC.  On the way, we stopped in Greg's old neighborhood in Port Chester for a "Parmasean Chicken Sambo."  The dudes needed to settle their guts, and we all needed a third breakfast since we had stayed up partying all night.  Kelly and I indulged in sharing a slice of fresh ricotta pizza.  I can not even write about it without getting hungry and feeling longing.  The crust was so crisp, the sauce so bright, and the cheese...what can I say about fresh Italian cheese that won't make you cry and say prayers of thanksgiving all at the same time. Ummm...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!

The fellas were all business...

When we got to town, we headed to The Goog to see the Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit.  It was so stinkin' awesome.  THANK YOU MIKE!

Dinner at Union Square cafe.  The food was super, the company - my favorite, and it was even better because it was something spontaneous that we rarely do.

He's the best (and he's smiling because he's entered that four month June to October chunk of bliss in which he gets to say that he's younger than me)!  Although we were born under the same star, in the same year, I can say that I love my younger man!!!  (Seriously...do I need Botox?  I think no...)