Go For Crackers

Remember that time the world shut down and we were all stuck at home? Target started selling clothes that looked like we were all heading back in time, to start our own homesteads. The memories of that random time you and your buddies decided to toilet paper someone’s house brought you an actual anxiety attack at the thought of the wastefulness of that precious toilet paper? Facebook was a platform for all of your friends and acquaintances that had quickly acquired a medical degree. And suddenly everyone was a home chef and baker? Yah I’m trying to forget too.

One day while I was scrolling Facebook, trying to forget my bought of rage over my potty training toddler using a half a roll of toilet paper, clogging my toilet and putting our extremely limited supply in the critical category, I came across a nice neighbor that I had never met saying she had lots of sourdough starter to give away. This was a hard moment for me. One, ew. I don’t know who this is, where she’s been, if she had been exposed. Two, I’ve never made bread in my life. Three, I messaged her anyway.

It felt like a drug deal. Not that I have ever engaged in such depravity. So I guess I really don’t know what I’m talking about. I showed up to her home, my engine still running. I’m standing back from her door in a mask and hoodie and pajama pants because it’s cold and I haven’t been in public in ages. She gently sets the glass pickle jar down filled with the precious starter and some instructions taped to the side. She gives me a nod and shuts the door. Long story short I named my starter Amy Farrah Flour… wait for it… I know right?! And we’ve made lots of magic over the past couple years.

Which takes us to the present. One of the drawbacks of keeping this starter alive is you have to feed it like all the time. It’s like another person moved in. At least she doesn’t complain about my cooking and doesn’t require any extra laundry. And it feels so wasteful because I have to discard a bunch of it before I feed her. So I’ve been on the hunt for good recipes to use for the discard. Which leads us to today and this hysterical encounter with my daughter. This morning I found a great recipe to make crackers. My five year old daughter M is my little buddy in the kitchen. She loves to cook and especially likes to bake.

“Hey M, wanna make some crackers with me today?”, I ask.

“What?! That sounds like so much fun Mama! Are these going to be like graham crackers?”, she asks excitedly.

“Well no..”, I interject.

“We can make a house like we did at Christmas!”, she shouts excitedly.

“Baby, these are going to be sourdough crackers. So not sweet, more savory.”, I say with a grin.

She contemplates this for a moment. “Mommy we can still make a house out of the crackers! A cracker house! But we can call it a crack house for short!! This is gonna be the best crack house ever!”, she says with a crazy big smile.

Holding back fits of laughter, I agree with her. “It will be the best crack house in Texas babe!”

Smile and Say Stuck!

They say age is just a number. I think age is more how you feel mentally. I’m turning 40 this summer, or should I say that I am reaching level 40. While I know this monumental birthday is imminent, in my head I still feel like I am in my 20’s. Especially when I’m with my girlfriends. However my skinny jeans, side part and slang usage says otherwise. Oh and I hurt myself when I sneeze now, that’s fun.

Remember when I said age is how you feel mentally? Well that is a big fat lie. The lie sometimes loses weight and then gets big again, reminding you of the futility of ignoring it. I’m sorry I lied to you. Age is also how you feel physically. I had a friendly reminder of that this week at school. I teach preschool and seriously love it. I left the world of finance to stay home with our three fantastic kids. Then one day thought to myself, wow my mental instability from the craziness of my own children wasn’t enough. Give me 20 more! I joke, seriously I love my job. Kids are the best and they have the most unfiltered honesty of any human being on the planet. Want to know how that shirt really looks? Want to know how your cooking really tastes? Want to know why cleaning is a waste of time? Ask a toddler, they are savage! They may not give you the answer you think and that’s the hilarious and wonderful part. They also give the best hugs and the sweetest compliments, because they are 100% genuine.

Well on this particular day of preschool we were taking the teacher pictures for our yearbook. It got me thinking that we needed to do something fun and different, like us! Instead of the side by side, smiling by a tree pic. So I convinced my co teacher to take our picture on the slide at our indoor playground. I would sit on the slide and she could pop out behind me. A totally cute and fun pose!

The indoor playground is so much fun. It has this brightly colored giant plastic monstrosity with slides and lots of fun things to climb. The slide I had in mind for the picture was bright yellow, curved to the side and has a little overhead piece that you have to duck under before you slide down.

We find someone to take our picture and then climb up into the giant plastic maze of steps, twists, turns and surprisingly tight spaces. I have no idea why I thought I could just mosey my way through there, up to the slide. It was like trying to navigate a shopping cart through the clearance racks on a Saturday afternoon in Walmart. I’m the shopping cart by the way. We get up to the top of the slide and I sit myself down and start to scoot forward. I quickly realized that I’m not moving forward anymore. My hips have come to an abrupt stop. Instead of coming to terms with my size (I guess my hips are a lot bigger than a 3 year olds) and accepting defeat I push forward. As I’m scooting harder trying to wedge my body down the slide, I’m also tilting my head trying to get clearance from under the overhang. That’s when I really get stuck.

The day before this, I did my first ab workout in what felt like a month. So In rebelion with the rest of my body, my abs started cramping. It felt like someone had shoved their hand into my stomach and squeezed as hard as they could. Paralized in pain I sat there for a moment not knowing what to do. I panicked! My head was stuck to the side. My lower half was stuck with my legs dangling over. I looked comparable to a busted can of Grands Biscuits. And to make it worse, little preschoolers were walking by looking completely perplexed and disturbed. My co teacher was behind me laughing so hard and didn’t know what to do either.

While chanting a chorus of Ow Ow Ow Ow Ow, I get my head back to the other side and lay down trying to get my abs to relax a bit. As I’m laying there feeling and looking like Augusts Gloop from Willy Wonka, waiting for the Oompa Loompas to come and sing me a lesson about not playing on playground equipment meant for children, I finally muster enough strength and pull myself back out. With what shreds of dignity I had left I made my way out of the playground.

We ended up with a lovely picture of us standing by a tree.

The Dehydrated Philosopher

I initially wrote this story for my four-year-old a while back. After her sisters have arrived, I’ve found the content to remain just as true today. These past four years have been hard, sticky and amazing. As other people would say, I’m in the thick of it. Even though they give me anxiety attacks, I wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Personally, I’m grateful I had my kids in my 30’s. My 20’s were so fun living with my girlfriends, dating the wrong guys and traveling all over the place. However, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t envious of a younger mama’s energy level and stamina.

I had my children close together, almost two years between the oldest and middle and less than a year and a half between the latter. This can be extremely challenging at times, but again I wouldn’t have it any other way. I always find it odd when people react to the closeness. “Are they twins?” “No they are not actually!” Then comes the judgmental facial expressions saying you know what causes this right… In my head I kindly respond “Sorry Linda let me go back in time and ensure there’s more of a gap to please you.” Anyway, they play and fight so well together it warms my heart.

So for any of you in similar situations, feeling the stresses of motherhood pounding you into the ground. Here is to you mama! I see you! You are doing a great job! Hang in there! This isn’t easy. Whether you are young or of “advanced maternal age”, have 1 kid or 6, we are all in this together. It takes a village, patience, a little wine and a lot of prayer. We are in the thick of it but we will power through!

To My Dearest Toddler with Love,

My beautiful daughter, I have decided today was a day worth reliving with you. I am very excited about this. We are going to have the most exciting adventure. In 30 years, I’m going to come stay with you. Exciting, I know. I haven’t decided if I will bring your father with me on this adventure. I may take this one solo, however it would be a blast to do this with him.

I will promptly arrive for dinner via Uber or whatever a popular shuttling service for the elderly we have then. I will greet you with a great big hug and then ignore you completely and sit in your living room watching TV. You will tell me multiple times that dinner is ready. I will continue to ignore you until you have to come in and turn off the TV. Then I will be shocked and excited that dinner is ready. I will find my seat and not like it. I will make you switch places with me and take your fork and give you mine because I know yours has to be better. After a fun game of musical chairs, you will find that I am grossly disgusted at what you’ve cooked, refuse to eat it and beg you for cheese. Then I will proceed to give the cheese to your dog and ask for a cookie. What’s that, you don’t have any cookies? Whip some up NOW! This tantrum isn’t going anywhere any time fast so you may as well cave and make it happen.

When you are only half way through dinner, I will inform you that I have to use the potty. However, I need you to sit by me on the floor and read books while I try to poop. You will likely lose your appetite, but I don’t mind, dinner was gross anyway. No reason to worry, I will enjoy your company.

As you try to clean the kitchen I will demand that it’s time to take a bubble bath. As you kindly draw my bubble bath, I harass you from behind declaring you will not turn off the faucet. I require the water up to the top of the tub. I will splash around like a deranged sea otter for about a half hour until my water is ice cold. I will attempt to convince you that I’m fine and it’s warm whilst realizing that I have to use the potty yet again and leave your toilet seat soaking wet as well as your toilet paper roll. This will be an incredibly fun surprise for you in the middle of the night. The walls and floor will be covered in water as well. I will do everything in my power to miss all the towels that you have carefully placed all over the floor.

After a bath I would like to squirt out half a tube of toothpaste and argue with you that it’s not enough. Once I have my desired amount, I will turn on the faucet and rinse it off completely because your toothpaste is too spicy. I will then decide I don’t want to brush my teeth at all. Next I will proceed to run around naked through your house while you try to put pajamas on me. This will be quite a show for your neighbors. Fair warning, you may want to shut the curtains beforehand. Good luck! Once dressed and ready for bed I will be hungry again. Do you have any more of that cheese? Or cookies would be okay.

Once you’ve explained why we eat all our food at dinner and shouldn’t eat at bed time, I will firmly hand you a stack of 25 books I’ve carefully picked out for you to read me. Don’t you dare skip pages! I will know.

Tuck me in, say my prayers and turn off the light. Then I will call for you because I have turned into a dehydrated philosopher. I need water and as you arrive with my refreshment, I will ask you all sorts of questions to delay my actual bedtime and preventing you from accomplishing anything for the evening. Oh and by the way, I need a new pillow, this one is weird. The one you have on your bed will do just fine. And can you please take that picture off the wall, they are looking at me.

About 2 a.m. I will crawl in bed with you, but you should know I like to sleep sideways with my feet in your face. It makes me feel closer to you. At about 6 a.m. (if you are lucky) I will wake you up demanding more cheese and the use of your phone so I can watch the Wiggles and blast their charming music in your ear until you get up to get me that cheese we talked about earlier. After my breakfast, you will likely look like someone the government interrogated for 72 hours straight and will be ready for me to go back to my house. So I will happily sit in the back seat of your car singing at the top of my lungs and kicking your seat as hard as I can. As you try to keep your cool and ask me repeatedly to stop. I may scream and cry for no reason at all, from time to time. When we get to my house I will give you with the biggest smile, warmest hug and sweetest kiss and you will forget all the misery I put you through. Because that is what we do.

I know that I will miss these moments someday, but I find comfort knowing you will have to go through this as well. I’m reminded of this when I call my Mom, tell her the adventures of the day and on the other end of the phone all I hear is laughter. “That sounds about right!”

So dear daughter of mine, please remember I will always love you and be here for you. Love you kiddo!