Mom is not a babe

There is a current television ad for Becel that runs often on The Weather Network (which Will watches every school morning while he's waiting for breakfast).  In it, a collection of sweet school children write letters to their moms telling them why they are special, and then they share their heartfelt words on stage while their moms look on and listen with warm smiles and teary eyes.

This commercial makes me cry every time I see it, partly because I am the hormonal mess that apparently comes along with being a 40 year old woman, but also partly because now that I have older boys, the days of receiving little love notes written in wobbly printing or spoken in a sweet little voice have quietly slipped behind me, and I miss those unguarded shows of affection.  It's harder to feel appreciated for the kind things you do for your children when they're in the stages of frequently rolling their eyes at you or yelling at you that they wish they had a different family when they're upset.  (Oh Mom and Dad, I know I did that, too, and I'm so sorry!)

Will has grown into a tough little critic in recent years.  He has very strong opinions about people and experiences, and is not afraid to say what he thinks.  He criticizes our driving from his spot in the back seat, complains about the food we prepare, tells us a hundred times a day that we are wrong, wrong, wrong. He is a perfectionist who is hard on himself, and seemingly even harder on the people he cares about. Sometimes all of that criticism gets hard to take. 

One recent night at dinner, I mentioned to Matt that I wanted to ask him later about an idea I had for something, so he could tell me if he thought it was any good.  Will considered this for a moment, and then said, "You know, Dad is probably going to say yes to your idea anyway, because you're his wife, and if he said no, you'd just find a way to show him why he's wrong and you'd use your idea anyway."  This observation floored me a little, so Matt, that good man, jumped in and stated, "I say yes to your Mom, not because I have to, but because she is always right". (The me always being right part is of course not true, but I did appreciate the show of support!)  While I've known for a long time that I have some pretty strong opinions of my own about most things, it was uncomfortably eye-opening to realize my son sees me as someone who always has to have her own way  (and his father as a yes-man!).

Over another recent dinner, Matt said something to me and ended his sentence with the word "babe", used as a term of endearment.  You would think that an 8 year old child would feel happy and secure hearing his parents speak to each other with affection, but instead, Will jumped in and shouted incredulously, "BABE?!?  Mom's not anywhere close to being a BABE!!  Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift are babes!".  (Thank you, Will, for pointing out your mother's physical shortcomings compared to some pretty, early 20-something year old women.)  His mocking words were certainly a far cry from the sweetness of his kindergarten days, when he would bring home crayon drawings of me smiling above the words "My mom is beautiful."

In both of these conversations, I talked to Will further so I could better understand his thinking and offer him some more positive ways of looking at relationships and what beauty is.  Before I had a chance to get very far in the last conversation, Will said to me, "You know, Mom, being a babe doesn't do you any good anyway -- it just gets you fame.  You're a Mom."  I sensed from Will's tone and the look in his eyes that somehow, this statement was a compliment.  It might not be much, but these days, I'll take my love letters any way I can get them.

Quinoa and rice pilaf with walnuts and cranberries

Quinoa and whole grain rice are pantry staples around our house; I often include one of these nutritious and gluten-free foods in our family's evening meal.  On a recent trip to Costco, I noticed an interesting Sprouted Rice (brown, red, and wild) and Quinoa Blend made by TruRoots that I was curious to try, and since then we've been enjoying it very much with stirfries or as a side dish in meals where before I would have used one or the other.  The blend is tasty cooked plain, with a bit of Herbamare for seasoning, but for fun one day I decided to see what would happen if I added the flavours of orange and cinnamon, the sweetness of dried cranberries, and the nutty crunch of some toasted walnuts.  The end result was delicious, and this pilaf has become a new side dish favourite.

Quinoa and Rice Pilaf with Walnuts and Cranberries

1 cup water
3/4 cup orange juice
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 cup TruRoots Sprouted Rice and Quinoa Blend
1/4 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped and lightly toasted
1/4 cup dried cranberries (I used ones sweetened with fruit juice rather than sugar)

In a medium-sized saucepan, combine the water, orange juice and cinnamon and bring the mixture to a boil.  Stir in the sprouted rice and quinoa blend.  Reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for approximately 30 minutes or until all of the liquid is absorbed.

Remove the saucepan from heat and let it stand, covered, for about 5 minutes.  Gently stir the cranberries and toasted walnuts into the quinoa/rice mixture, cover again, and let it stand for another 5 minutes, or until the cranberries and nuts are warm. 

We like to serve this wonderfully flavoured pilaf alongside some kale sauteed in a little olive oil, and either roasted chicken or pork.  Together these foods make a hearty, nourishing, and warming meal just perfect for a winter day.

A near miss

Matt and I were busy for most of the day yesterday, taking Noah's room apart so we could redecorate it and then trying to get it put back together before it was time for him to go to bed. The boys were helpful for some parts of this process, but after lunch we parents decided that the two of them should go outside and play in the snow and sunshine for awhile.  I figured they didn't need much supervision while they were out there, that they would likely just pull out some sleds or some hockey sticks and do what most children do when they get sent outside to play in the winter.  So I shut the door behind them after calling out "Have fun!", and went back up to Noah's room to keep working.

A little while later I happened to glance out the kitchen window after coming downstairs to grab something I needed.  There in the backyard were Noah and Will, lugging not sleds or hockey sticks around, but the big wooden wagon they used to ride in when they were little.  They had somehow managed to wiggle it out of the shed (which is currently jam-packed full of summer things in storage), and they were making their way slowly, and with great effort, through the snow up the hill at the back of our yard.

I paused for about half a second until the sudden realization of what they were about to do hit me.  Luckily, I was able to bolt for the back door and stick my head out it soon enough to stop them before they jumped in the wagon and hurled themselves with glee down the icy track they had made on the hill.  The boys were completely disgusted that I would put an end to such fun before it even began.  I was completely relieved that I had narrowly avoided spending the rest of the day in the ER.

Now, I realize that I am probably more risk-averse than the average person, and likely overly cautious sometimes.  But what on earth would possess anyone to think that sitting in a wagon (with sides high enough that your feet can't touch the ground so you have absolutely no way of controlling where this wagon goes), and then flying down a slick incline where the chances of hitting a tree are pretty good, is wild and crazy fun?!?

The boys came inside soon after I short-circuited their "ingenious" plan; without the thrill of being able to risk their lives, the snow and the yard suddenly seemed boring.  If you think I was mean to squash the boys' fun, don't worry -- I'm pretty sure we haven't heard the end of the wagon plans just yet.  Last night Noah asked me where he could get a 50hp motor that would fit on a small, wheeled vehicle....

Toughening up

There have been a lot of wild ups and downs with the weather here in recent weeks.  Earlier this month we were outside in fall-weight jackets and shoes for a couple of days, eagerly soaking up the warmth of the bright sun, and this week we are bundling ourselves up in multiple layers to protect ourselves from blustery snow squalls and numbingly cold temperatures.

I've come to realize recently that the experience of writing about the details of your life, and then deciding to share that writing with the public, brings similar highs and lows.  Several days ago I was riding a wave of happiness.  I felt really proud of having completed a personal writing challenge, and when I spoke of that experience here, the comments I received suggested that the message seemed to resonate with others; one friend felt that the reminder to challenge the inner voice of self-doubt was worth sharing .  I was also very glad to hear this week that one of my recipes had helped a lovely young woman who lives thousands of kilometres away from me, but has some of the same food sensitivities that I do.  I've had many positive comments from readers over the past couple of years who have told me that my words or ideas have meant something to them, and it is this knowledge that inspires me to always keep searching within for new subjects to explore, write about, and share, in an effort to make real connections with people so we all know we're not alone.

But "putting yourself out there", so to speak, leaves one vulnerable to criticism, too.  And this week, I had several people from an online community where I sometimes share my posts say that they found my posting of links to my blog "annoying", that I was drawing too much attention to myself.  I would like to say that I just let those comments roll off my back, that I was okay with some people finding my posts bothersome (because really, you can't please everyone all the time), but that would be a lie.  The comments hurt, and made me feel anxious and embarrassed and upset.  They caused me to question why I do what I do, and just how much I should be sharing myself with people I don't even know.  They allowed the little nagging voice of self-doubt to resurface and shout quite loudly and meanly at me over the past few days.

I have been hyper-sensitive to whatever I perceive as criticism for as long as I can remember.  When I was a little girl, I can recall crying to my mom sometimes after a socially trying day at school that "nobody liked me" (not true), and being very easily upset by my dad's gentle and playful teasing.  My parents used to kindly suggest that I not take things so personally all the time.  I'm trying hard this week to remember that long-ago good advice.

Now that the cold sting of those hurtful comments from strangers has dulled a little bit, I have realized that I cannot let a few negative voices ruin what has otherwise been a very rewarding experience for me.  I write because I feel things deeply and have ideas that excite me; I share because I believe that even though we are all very different people, sometimes many of us feel the same things, and the ideas that excite one person often excite others and inspire them to create new and wonderful things, too.  The lovely connections I've had a chance to make with so many people, both old friends and new, along this journey by opening myself up online have proven to me that my beliefs probably have some merit.  I may be more careful about where I share my work in the future, but I still feel compelled to keep doing what I love.  I'm just going to have to learn to bundle myself up a little better to protect myself against the harsher, chillier days.

Fun food on a stick: Nutty surprise sandwiches and fruit kabobs

There's something about adding a stick to food that can make the same ordinary fare suddenly seem new and fun for kids.  I thought we could use some "new and fun" around here as we make our way through a long, really cold week in January, so yesterday I greeted the boys after school with what I hoped would be a very appealing snack:  nutty surprise sandwiches and fruit kabobs.  The "surprise" in the sandwiches was a square of dark chocolate finely chopped and stirred into the nut butter, and appealing it certainly was -- the boys gobbled up their healthy treats in no time.  I even convinced them to eat a few fruits that they normally turn their noses up at by cutting them into small, interestingly shaped pieces.  The boys are now busy dreaming up what other foods we can put on a stick!

 

To make a nutty surprise sandwich, you will need:

two slices of sandwich bread (I used Silver Hills Bakery Squirrelly Bread for Noah, and Organic Works Bakery gluten-free Buckwheat, Oatmeal, and Flax Bread for Will)
1 - 2 tbsp of natural nut butter (cashew, almond, hazelnut, walnut, or peanut butter, or sunflower seed butter if nut allergies are a concern)
1 square of dark chocolate (at least 70% cocoa), finely chopped
a few slices of banana
1 popsicle stick
a cookie cutter in a shape that will fit whichever bread you choose

Using a cookie cutter of your choice, cut both slices of bread into the same fun shape.  You can toast the bread first if your children prefer toasted sandwiches. 

In a small bowl, stir together the nut butter and the finely chopped dark chocolate until combined. Spread the nut butter and chocolate mixture on one side of both pieces of the bread.

Add a few thin slices of banana on top of the nut butter and chocolate mixture on one slice of the bread, and then place the other slice of bread on top, so that the two nut buttered sides are sticking together. 

Carefully push a popsicle stick into the centre of the bottom piece of bread (parallel to the sandwich) and serve.

To make the fruit kabobs, I used bamboo skewers with raspberries, blackberries, banana slices, and pieces of canteloupe and honeydew melon cut into fun shapes using a pretty old set of aspic and hors d'oeuvres cutters that were my grandma's.  With the popularity of Bento lunches these days, I believe it's quite easy to find similar small cookie cutters at various kitchen stores. 

Nutty surprise sandwiches on sticks and fun fruit kabobs make it easy to give your children a snack or a lunch that contains protein, fibre, good fats, vitamins, and a healthy little treat as well.  What other fun ways can your family think of to put nutritious foods on a stick?

Who invited you?

Self-doubt has a way of showing up in life like an uninvited guest and trying to ruin what could otherwise be a really great party.  How many times has each of us been bothered by the nagging little voice inside that tells us we're not good enough, that we might make fools of ourselves, that people will judge us if we try to take risks and do something that will take us outside of what feels comfortable and familiar?  I've heard that voice often over the years, and when self-doubt comes visiting with its sidekick, perfectionism, I find myself passing up opportunities to experience new things.  Sometimes, if I'm not sure I can excel at something, I'm reluctant to do it at all.  I am realizing more and more as I get older that I should really try harder to round up those unhelpful thoughts and show them the door.

One day well before Christmas, Matt came home from work and mentioned that he had heard something on CBC Radio about the Canada Writes contest.  The contest had just recently opened for submissions of creative non-fiction from writers across the country, and Matt had made a mental note to tell me about it, thinking maybe I'd want to enter.  I was initially really excited by the prospect. I remembered hearing about this contest the year before, and writing something for it seemed to me like a wonderful opportunity and challenge.  Before I got too carried away with my thoughts, though, the ugly little voice showed up in my head, and whispered unkindly that I could never write anything good enough for a nation-wide competition.  Because I was conveniently busy with holiday preparations at the time, I pushed the whole idea out of my mind and occupied myself with other distractions.

As the days passed, I found that the contest kept popping up in my consciousness.  I started spinning around ideas in my brain, writing words and phrases down on pieces of paper, and exploring my feelings around a story I felt compelled to tell.  I revisited the Canada Writes web page several times, and read through the entries there from previous years.  Finally, one day I gathered up my courage along with all of the ideas I had jotted down on random pieces of paper, sat down at my computer, and just started to write. 

The nasty little voice tried to make itself heard while I was weaving words together, but I was too busy to pay it much attention.  I loved the thrill of making my ideas come to life on the page, the challenge of pushing myself to try things in my work that I hadn't before.  I agonized over phrases that wouldn't come out on paper the way I felt them in my heart, and whispered a triumphant "Yes!" when I finally pieced together the right combinations of words.  After an exhilarating and tiring process of writing, reading, rewriting, sharing and discussing, reading, and rewriting some more, I stared one last time at the words on the screen in front of me, took a deep breath, and, with butterflies in my stomach, hit the "Submit" button.  I walked around for a whole day afterwards wearing a huge smile of personal accomplishment both inside and out, and feeling like I'd grown in directions I hadn't considered before.   I loved knowing that I had actually lived the lessons I like to teach my boys: that it's important to try things, to let yourself make mistakes and learn from them, to believe in yourself and to never stop imagining what more you might become.

I may very well never hear another word about the piece I wrote for this contest. I'm sure there are many talented writers who will enter, and many who will have the ability to express themselves more powerfully or beautifully than I did.  But I'm really happy to say with all honesty that it doesn't matter to me.  I'm just so darn pleased that I had the courage to stand up to the voice of self-doubt inside and know that I was good enough to try.

Cranberry Coconut Granola Cookies (gluten, dairy, egg, and nut-free)

This past week I went looking for inspiration for some new, healthy snack ideas for Will, as he seems to have grown tired of several of the usual options in our allergy-friendly rotation.  When I saw the recipe for these breakfast cookies made by Gretchen @ kumquat, I knew I had found something wonderful to work with.  I played around with a nice bunch of nutritious ingredients (gluten-free oats, coconut, chia seeds, sunflower seeds and bananas) to come up with my own version of the cookie, and ended up with a delicious, satisfying, naturally sweet treat that has protein, fibre, and healthy fats, is quick and easy to make, and is safe to send to school.  Yes, please!

Cranberry Coconut Granola Cookies

1 1/2 cups certified pure rolled oats
1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
2 tbsp ground chia seeds
1/4 tsp sea salt
1/2 cup raw sunflower seeds
1/3 cup coarsely chopped dried cranberries (I use ones sweetened with fruit juice rather than sugar)
2 very ripe bananas, mashed
1/4 cup melted coconut oil
1 tbsp pure maple syrup
1 tsp vanilla

Preheat the oven to 350 F.  In a large bowl, combine the rolled oats, coconut, chia seeds, sea salt, sunflower seeds, and dried cranberries.  In a smaller bowl, stir together the mashed bananas, melted coconut oil, maple syrup, and vanilla until well combined.  Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and thoroughly mix everything together.

Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper baking cups.  Spoon the cookie mixture into the muffin cups and press the mixture down with the back of the spoon so that all of the tops are flat.  Bake for 25 minutes, or until the tops of the cookies are golden brown.  Cool the cookies, remove the paper liners and serve.

These cookies are one of my favourite healthy and allergy-friendly baked treats yet!