Playing Catch Up

Today is my son's 9th birthday.

I am not prepared for the party tonight.

Yesterday, we dismantled the crib and set up a big boy bed for my two-year-old.

I forgot to buy a mattress pad while I was at Target, and the sheets we thought we purchased were actually duvet covers.

My daughter wore her new shoes to church yesterday morning. I got them on clearance at the end of last winter.

They don't fit. She's grown three sizes in a year. I didn't see that coming.

Sometimes, parenting feels like an endless game of catch-up. I'm always trying to stay ahead of the curve. I pack lunches the night before, I sign school papers as soon as they come home. I try to notice when we're running low on diapers so I can get them during a regularly scheduled Target run, and not have to make a separate trip. I meal plan. I run a mean To Do List.

Which is to say: I try. I try hard. And sometimes, I succeed. But most of the time, I can't seem to gain traction. I make progress in this area, only to slide back in that one. I delight one child and disappoint another.

I buy shoes a season ahead. And then they don't fit.

It's tough on a mom's ego, especially when she's spun plates at warp speed for her career. Can managing the lives of four kids really be more harrowing than producing a newscast during sweeps month?

The answer, I'm sorry to say, is yes.

As a mom, I'm always on call. I'm always in charge. If something goes wrong, I'm the one who needs to fix it. I find the missing headband, register for skating lessons, buy the fleece gloves before the first snow falls.

The good news is, the smile on my children's face when they see that birthday cake, that new dresss, the Angry Birds bandages, well, that means more to me than any paycheck.

In the end, I won't remember the crazy day I have in front of me, getting ready for Connor's party, all the cleaning and baking, the present wrapping and detail snatching. I'll just remember the celebration itself, the laughter and the ice cream, the Wii games and the love.

And I did remember to throw a handful of confetti into his lunchbox last night.

I haven't lost the game entirely. Booyah.

Welcome to The Parent 'Hood, a weekly blog round-up of all things parenting. I host this carnival every Monday, along with some of my favorite blogging buddies (FriedOkra, Vita Familiae, To Think is To Create, Joy in this Journey, Lovefeast Table and O My Family). Post your link using the tool below, and your post will show up instantly on all the host blogs. (How cool is that?)

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Here, Taste This : Garlicky Green Beans

Today, I'm sharing with you one of my secret weapons.

These green beans are so good, so tasty, so smack-your-lips amazing, they can heal relationships, inspire love poems, moderate Presidential debates.

They can even get your children to eat their veggies.

I know! It's like having a super hero in your fridge.

It's also fast - it takes less than 20 minutes from start to finish. And it has the ability to make people think you spent a lot of time and energy on it. Even though it's really simple.

Which makes you the super hero, now that I think about it.

Garlicky Green Beans
Recipe from one of my favorite cookbooks, Desperation Dinners

1 pound fresh green beans
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
2 cloves fresh garlic
1/4 cup white wine
1 teaspoon chicken bouillon crystals
fresh cracked black pepper

Directions:

1. Wash beans and remove ends.

2. Heat oil and butter on medium in a large skillet. Add beans and stir to coat.

3. Peel and mince garlic. Add to skillet. Reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring often, until beans turn bright green, 4 to 5 minutes.

4. Add wine and bouillon. Raise heat to medium-high; you want to hear it sizzle. Then reduce heat to medium, and cook, stirring frequently, 5 minutes or until beans are crisp-tender.

5. Season with pepper to taste, and serve.

Tips:

1. A few words about the beans themselves: If you're making this with green beans from the farmer's market, definitely remove the ends. But lately, I've been making this with haricot verts, the thin French green beans that are so tender, they hardy have any ends to begin with. So I've been skipping the "remove the ends" step. Feel free to do the same.

2. I use a high-sided skillet for this recipe. It makes it so much easier to toss the beans.

3. Fresh garlic is important to this recipe! Don't use the jarred kind. (Not that I even know what that is. Cough.) But if you don't have time or energy to mince, you can use a garlic press. Just know you'll have to stir more if you use a press, since the garlic will be finer and more prone to burn.

4. Haricot verts cook faster than the times in this recipe. What you're looking for is bright green, tender beans that might have just a bit of char from the bottom of the pan. (Note: Those are the best beans! Do not give them to your children!)

5. I've heard some people say you can sub soy sauce for the white wine and get more of an Asian garlic green bean. I haven't tried, since I love this recipe so much. But it's worth mentioning.

Dress For The Day (Especially When It's Cold)

Two Wednesday mornings a month, I attend a moms group at my church. It's sort of a MOPS graduate course, for those of us growing out of the toddler stage and into the school-age and oh-my-word teenage years.

I love the group; I'm making the best friends there. And I secretly love that I get to wear grown-up clothes that day. Maybe it's my overly practical nature, but I can't justify a cute outfit with accessories when all I'm going to do is stay home and clean. Some days were just made for jeans and t-shirts, you know?

But not today.

Today, I wore my new favorite color combo - aquamarine and periwinkle. The shirt drapes just right and the chunky necklace and cuff are very me.

And WHOA! Today it's chilly in Minnesota. Like, I walked out my front door this morning and it was 36 degrees. (And since I was trying to take my own picture by setting my camera on a bale of straw and triggering the self-timer, I had plenty of time to feel that windchill. My apologies for the lack of focus and hideous backlighting. I was numb.)

So I threw on a coat. A green coat. COLOR EXPLOSION!

And then I made faces at myself because I wore my glasses today. (I don't need them to see, but without them, I lack depth perception. And fall is a good season to see 3D.)

And then I lost feeling in my toes. Because I was wearing wedge sandals.

And that, my friends, brings me to one of my perpetual fall conundrums. I adore sandals and flip-flops. I wear them to the bitter end of summer. And today is that bitter end.

But, maybe because I'm loathe to shed the sandals, I don't have good in-between footwear. I have cute boots for winter and several pairs of LL Bean shoes that work with sweaters and jeans. But those feel like overkill on October 10.

What shoes would you recommend with this outfit?

I'm linking up today to my friend Abby's brilliant Dress for the Day, which entails dressing for the day you want to have, not the day that wants to have you. Come play, every Wednesday!

Fashion Update

Clothes have always been inconsequential to my oldest daughter.

Even after she could dress herself, Natalie happily wore whatever I laid out for her. I would find a cute outfit, hold it up for her approval and she would obligingly shrug, "Sure, Mom. If you like it."

It's a good place to be, as a mom.

No battles over clothing. No refusal to wear what I buy. No "I don't like that color" or "This tag is itchy" or "I don't wear plaid." I was free to indulge my own whims, choose whatever I thought was cute.

Until now.

Last week, I bought an outfit for for Natalie at Gymboree, one of my all-time favorite kids' clothing stores. At 11, Natalie has almost sized out of Gymboree clothes. But when I saw this shirt-and-jeans combo, it was so sunny and cheerful, I immediately thought of her.

I bought it, brought it home and showed it to her as soon as she get home from school.

"What do you think?" I asked, expectantly.

She grimaced ever so slightly. "It's cute, Mom. But it's not really me."

And I saw, in an instant, she was right.

That outfit is not right for a sixth-grader, especially not a sporty, tomboy sixth grader who would rather climb a tree or read a book than worry about looking cute.

Natalie is growing into herself. She's learning who she is - and who she's not. And naturally, that trickles down into what she wears. She's spurned my suggestions to wear boots, claiming only girls who care about boys wear boots. She's decided skirts aren't practical for school; how can one do flips on the monkey bars with a skirt? And she's adamant she wants her hair long and straight, for no discernible reason.

That's not to say Natalie doesn't care how she looks. She dresses in fun jeans and t-shirts most days, and she is thrilled when I buy her anything purple (her favorite color) or anything with a touch of glitter. She jumps on any opportunity to get a pedicure, and she is growing more conscious every day of her reflection in the mirror.

If fashion is defined as what you wear reflecting who you are, then it's time for a fashion update.

Natalie is not a little girl anymore. But she's tuned in to who she's becoming, and she likes herself.

It's a good start for style.

Here, Taste This : Homemade Granola

I cannot go to bed without eating a bowl of cereal first.

It's a habit that probably started back in my TV news days, when my schedule and body rhythms were whacked. (Anyone else regularly pull through Carl's Junior at 9:30 AM and beg for a bacon burger and a chocolate coffee shake?) When I worked on the 11:00 PM newscast, I would get home about 12:30 AM. I would watch the Late Late Show (sometimes with my brother, who lived with us for a while) and I would play as many games of Solitaire as it took for my brain to calm the heck down.

Then I would have a bowl of cereal and go to bed. The childhood familiarity of crunchy grains and creamy milk would settle my soul and I would fall asleep around 2:00 AM with a smile on my face.

These days, my body rhythms aren't quite as messed up. But I can't kick the cereal habit.

Which brings us to today's "Here, Taste This" recipe.

Homemade granola. Have you tasted it? Have you made it? Have you had it with milk?

It's a revelation. And I should know, since I've been eating it before bed almost every night for the past three years.

You can eat it with yogurt too, of course. Or use it to top ice cream. But it's meant to be eaten in your jammies, before bed, with ice cold milk.

Sweet dreams.

Homemade Granola
(Adapted from BooMama's recipe)

1/2 cup honey
1/4 cup melted butter
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

3 cups whole oats
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/3 cup chopped raw almonds
1/3 cup chopped raw pecans
1/2 tsp. Kosher salt

Directions:

1. In a small bowl, melt butter. Mix in honey and vanilla.

2. In a large bowl, combine oats, flour nuts and salt.

3. Pour the butter mixture on top of the oat mixture and stir until well combined.

4. Spread on a rimmed baking sheet; bake at 350 for 20 minutes or until golden. Let it cool for 5 minutes then use a spatula to break it up into pieces. Store in an air-tight container.

Tips:

1. Sometimes, I add in 1/4 cup of ground flaxseed. It helps to remember to do this before you put the granola in the oven.

2. This recipe is highly customizable, yes? I love it so much as is, I can't bear to mess with it much. But I'm sure you could add dried fruit, some cinnamon and swap out the nuts without problem.

3. Don't let it cool too long before you scrape it off the baking sheet, or you will end up with huge granola chunks that you will have to break up with your fingers.

4. The first time I made this, I ate the whole thing in about one sitting. That's not good for the ego. These days, I often make a double batch (use two baking sheets if you do this; the granola needs space, man), which means I can go about a week before making some more.

To be a Child in the Fall

Color explosion.

Fall practically pounced this year. Nothing gradual. Nothing held back.

Autumn is extravagant.

Parking lots become galleries for nature's best works.

Forest turns cathedral.

Lakes glow with hues not their own.

And children pick up leaves to remember the beauty of this day. This season.

This is worship, to play under the trees and celebrate the beauty, unconcerned with the season ahead. Because today, the sky is brilliant and the ground is golden and the leaves rain down like kisses.

Lord, let me always be a child in the fall.

Marathon

I am tired.

I realize a mother of four saying she's tired is about as newsworthy and shocking as the latest poll results. ("Obama's in the lead still? You don't say!")

But this tiredness isn't the day-to-day variety. It's deeper. I feel it in my bones. I'm not just tired, I'm weary. Wrung out. Spent.

I told a friend recently that being a stay-at-home mom to young kids must be like running a marathon. There are days when I glance to my side and see breathtaking scenes around me, and I feel my legs pumping, and everything is in a rhythm and I think, "Yes! This! This is what I was made for! I'm fulfilled here! I could run forever! I love this!"

And then there are other days, especially lately, when I feel the length of the race and I stagger and stumble and, even though the scenery is just as amazing, and in my deepest heart, I know I will miss running this race when it is over, I am too exhausted to care much.

I just want a break.

I have been a SAHM for more than a decade now. Eleven years I've been at home with little ones, wiping bums and giving baths, cutting apples and playing Legos. I have savored giggles and laughed at spilled milk (because, really, what else are you doing to do?) and I have wallowed in the blessing of it. God has heard my daily prayer, as it sloshes out of the overflow of my heart. "Thank you, Lord. Thank you. Thank you."

But thankfulness doesn't negate fatigue. I suppose a certain amount of weariness is to be expected in this broken world. Unlimited energy and creative drive is our future, not our present.

So I will continue to run this race. I only have a few miles left, and yes, I know after this one I will start a different race, that of being a mom to school-aged kids and teenagers, but that's a different race for a different season and right now, I need to keep focus here. Today, and tomorrow, and this week, and I will daily seek patience and endurance and joy.

Especially joy.

Because an exhilarating finish deserves nothing less.