Dead Squirrel

We have been having some beautiful weather here where we live.  It feels like spring.  These days have come after a particularly chilly stint, so we are excited, ready to open all the windows and play in the fresh air outside. 

This afternoon, while I was picking up dog poop surveying the beauty of our backyard, I almost stepped on a dead squirrel.  I cannot tell you how uncomfortable I was with this finding.  I do not like dead things.  I wasn't 100% sure it was dead.  It was just laying there in the middle of the backyard.  My children had not seen it yet.  The dog had.  I did what any sensible person would do and threw a plastic bucket on top of it. 

Discomfort.  I had not planned on spending the afternoon in the backyard, but did plan on letting my children run around there for most of that time.  I was not going to get away with the plastic bucket in the middle of the yard.  I needed to deal with this before I went inside.  There would be questions.  I did not want to frighten them in case they decided to kick the bucket (!).  The dog was starting to dig around it.  Ugh. 

I facebooked about what to do gathered my courage and got a shovel.  I had to tell the boys what I was doing.  They were going to see it.  I did not want to scare them.  Scootle immediately started with I want to see it!  I want to see it!  I had spoken too soon because I still did not have the guts to pick up the bucket.  I want to see it!  What if it wasn't dead and it jumped out at me when I lifted the bucket?  What if it was injured and I had to DO SOMETHING?  Why was my husband not coming home for another three hours?  I want to see it!  I could not bury the thing because our dog would just dig it right back up.

Friends on facebook and whatever inner wisdom I conjured up helped me to stop and seize moment.  I told the boys what I was going to do.  I used a shovel to gently lift the bucket and pick up Mr. Squirrel.  I sat him down outside our fence so the boys could still look at it, but not touch it and the dog could not get to it. 

Boo-boo:  Mommy, he will wake up one day?  No sweetie.
I asked Scootle how he felt seeing a dead squirrel:  Not good.  It makes me sad.  

We just sat there and looked for a while.  Boo got distracted.  Scootle wanted to drop a stick on Mr. Squirrel to see what happened.   I asked if he instead wanted to put the stick and other beautiful things he found in the yard there to honor the life of Mr. Squirrel.  We talked about how a life is something special, something we honor and give thanks for. 

He seemed relieved to have something to do, some way to deal with the confusing thoughts he was having.  We made a little memorial.  We said a prayer.   I was very grateful to have let go of my discomfort for my children's sake and my own.

What's in Your Purse?

As I was cleaning out my purse today, I was struck by just how much junk I carry around.   I am sure this says something about me, but I am too tired to give it much thought right now.  I do remember googling what's in your bag a few months ago for a talk I was giving and finding it curious to see what people carried around.  I filed away the possible blog post in the mess of what is now my brain.  Cleaning out my purse today reminded me of it.  So, here goes - the contents of my bag (minus the trash I got rid of before thinking of this post):

I guess from these contents, one would guess my priorities were cleanliness, moisturizing and fresh breath (somewhat true).  What is in your bag?  For all of you bloggers who are stuck in a rut like me, this is something you can do that does not take much attention or brain power.  And for anyone who was curious, this is my purse:

This is my ugly, beat up, quintessential mom purse.  I will say my sweet husband bought me a lovely vegan fair trade purse I'd been lusting after online.  Too bad the bag was HUMONORMOUS.  I have since tried finding another fair trade purse that I liked, but gave up.  So this khaki aberration remains by my side.

Still Here...

December 26th marked our three year anniversary of being home together as a family.  It feels really good to have three years behind us.  I was very tempted to let that date also be the date I closed this blog for good.  Obviously I didn't.  I don't know if it's that I still hope one day to have time to write all of the blog posts that are filed in my mind, I don't know if it's that I don't want to let go of this venue that brought so many dear people into my life, I don't know if I am nostalgically seeking the few moments of depth and clarity I was able to find through writing here long ago (not many deep moments these days).  Whatever the reason, I still hang on to this blog even though I don't write much.  I still check my blogroll even though I don't comment much either.  How do you feel about your blog?  Why do you still keep it around?

Que Gostoso - Black Bean Dip

So this Thanksgiving,  I found myself uninspired and without the time to prepare the complicated things I used to enjoy cooking/baking.  We were headed to visit two parts our family, where others took care of the main dishes.  I just wanted to contribute.  My contributions were 1) Black bean dip, 2) Brazilian Pao de Queijo (cheese bread) and 3) Lemon pie.  I know, none of the above sound particularly Thanksgivingy, but they were easy and yummy.

The black bean dip has become one of my staples, a quick go-to recipe that is an easy contribution to just about any event.  I originally got the recipe from my amazing friend, A.  A is a kick-a** feminist and a regular Martha Stewart at home.  She and I don't get to see each other that much, but she has been a rock in my life since I met her.  You know the kind of friend that flat out tells you she is your friend for life and you believe her?  That is A.   A is the How DOES she do it all!!???? grad school friend that many of us still marvel at. 

A's Black Bean Dip

1 can black beans
1 tomato
3 green onions
1 seeded jalapeno
1/2 cup cilantro (I love cilantro, so I use the whole bunch)
juice of 1 lime
1/2 tsp salt
chug of olive oil (I use 1-2 tbsp)

Throw all of these ingredients into a blender and puree.  Serve with a sprig of cilantro on top.

Though this dip has an entire jalapeno, it really is not spicy at all.  I hope you enjoy this recipe and treasure those A-like friends in your life!

I will be posting the other two recipes soon!

Wordless Wednesday - Birthday Bedtime

Ode to My Sons

I was at a women's retreat with my church last weekend.  At some point we were gently told to go and write a poem, an "ode" to something.  Ha!  I thought.  I am going to my room to take a nap in this cozy house by the ocean.  Nobody can make me write a poem!  Nobody can tell me what to do!

The funny thing is, I went straight to my room, picked up my journal and blanket and walked out onto the deck.  The direct way that my body moved, even though my brain was on its little rebellion was almost comical.   I sat on a chair, all wrapped up, with the sound of the ocean lulling me on and put pen to paper.  This is what came out.  I am no poet, this is not meant to be a work of art.  But I felt a huge relief as I put words to what has happened to me in the course of the last three years.  Turns out my body knows what I need to do sometimes even if I don't.
 

Ode to My Sons

Somewhere in my fight to keep myself

I realized that the self I clung to was no longer me.

The me I have found is both less static and more whole.

There was really no need for such a tight grip.

You changed me.

You, in your funny little ways,

Lightened my heavy load.

What I feared had taken my life away from me

Gave me my life back

Only with more laughter, lightheartedness and flow.

Que Gostoso - African Sweet Potato Stew

Spicy Asian Noodles?  No problem.

Tacos?  'Cause I'm cool like that.

Beans, fish and spinach?  Oh, yeah!

Just milk for me thanks.  (Still true today)

When the boys were first home with us from Ethiopia, we relied quite a bit on stews.  Scootle was used to spooning up warm and spicy concoctions.  They were his comfort food and our way to get him to a healthy weight and size.  He would eat anything.  Though we continue to feed our boys a pretty international and varied diet, they have slowly developed an almost typical American kid sense of taste.  I say "almost" typical because (for now) they do not know the names of any fast food restaurants and we try not to cook anything just for them at dinner time (you know ... the nuggets, hot dogs, fries, mac & cheese, etc).  We expect them to eat what we are eating.  It is really hard sometimes!

I feel so guilty when my three year old goes to bed having eaten only rice or a plain tortilla for dinner because he refuses to eat a pea or some chicken or heaven forbid, beans.  Boo-boo does get plenty of what he loves earlier in the day (oatmeal, bananas, apples and pb&j), but dinner is tough!  I just keep hoping that one day he will give in to the food that is put before him.  Scootle is much more adventurous and atypical.  He loves salads (even for breakfast), greens, spicy food, etc.  But recently he seems to have reached that developmental stage where what his friends think means A LOT!  (Already???!!!)  Where I used to be able to throw last night's leftovers in his lunch box, anything that he deems "embarrassing" comes home untouched.  Sigh.

Well, tonight I am pulling out one of the stews he loved so much when he first came home, when nothing made him happier than a bowl full of stew.   Boo was drinking bottles and rice cereal when he came home from Ethiopia, so he never never developed those associations.  This African Sweet Potato Stew* is in the crock pot for tonight.  I am keeping my fingers crossed that everyone will be happy!  Though I confess, I may puree a bit of it for Boo, lest he see that there are BEANS in there!
______________

* I would characterize this stew as more West African than East African.  I always put more spices than any Cooking Light recipes call for.  This might also be interesting with a bit of berbere.  Wish I had thought of the berebere earlier!

Holding On

These pictures of the boys were taken consecutively this past Saturday on our their first trip to the fair.  Scootle wanted to ride a very benign kiddie roller coaster.  He got in line to ride.  Boo surprised us by wanting to ride too.  I was a little worried about my three year old riding a roller coaster (even though it was no bigger than my living room), but he insisted that he wanted to follow his brother.

In the first picture, they are getting strapped in.   In the second picture, Big Bro looks excited but Little Bro has his I am not sure about this face on.  The third picture makes me want to cry.  The tiny one loop coaster just did its first of two laps.  What do you hang onto when your world is spinning, moving too fast and overwhelming?  I hang onto the most solid, secure, trustworthy and unchanging thing I can find.  So did little Boo.  He hung onto his Scootle for the entire ride. 

Wordless Wednesday - Scrumptious

Wordless Wednesday - Scootle, age 16