A December to Remember

So winter quiets me. But you know what? It doesn't quiet my children. It doesn't mute my life. Winter slows the core, like sap in a maple. But it doesn't ever freeze solid.

All that to say: a whole lot of living happened the last few weeks, while I was transitioning from December's sparkle and bustle to January's possibilities and paralysis analysis.

Last month, we managed to buy our Christmas tree, decorate it, put the holiday lights on the house and arrange the front porch pots full of winter greenery exactly two day before the first snow storm of the season. (And exactly one day before Corey left for North Korea. More on that later.)

In a flurry of caffeine and sugar induced hyperactivity, the kids and I mixed, scooped, baked and decorated all our Christmas cookies - all 20 dozen of them - in one day.

Sadly, all that baking didn't preemptively burn off all the cookie calories. (And I still have some chocolate mint brownies, if you want one. I'm done.)

Christmas was more relaxed than it has the right to be. Our kids don't wake up at the crack of dawn anymore, and since we don't have tons of family in the area, the day was more about playing with the new toys, taking naps and walking together through the snow-covered neighborhood than craziness.

There was also a lot of laughter. I love that kind of Christmas.

And then we got even more relaxed. Corey enjoyed some vacation after his Korea trip. We got the backyard ice rink ready for business. We tortured ourselves with a 1000-piece puzzle. We slept in and saw "Frozen" twice and we went sledding and we had an epic snowball fight on an above-freezing day.

The cold never bothered me anyway.

And then we rang in 2014 with our annual cheese and chocolate fondue extravaganza. Because what we really need after a month of rich foods and extra treats is - cheese and chocolate!

Not pictured in any of the collages above: the whiny moments, the exhausted meltdowns, the cries of "I'm bored" coming from the middle of a mountain of new toys and the five or ten extra pounds left by the holidays. They were there, woven into the fabric of reality. But that's not what I remember when I look back. I mostly remember a Christmas break almost magical in quality. Corey was home for three weeks in a row, which hasn't happened since July 2012. We were just ... together. It was glorious.

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The photo collages above were all created with the help of my favorite monkey on the Internet, PicMonkey. Ever since the demise of Picnik two years ago, PicMonkey has become my go-to for basic, easy and painless online photo editing. It's the perfect solution for people like me who want to touch up photos, maybe make a collage or add some text but who don't want to go to the trouble, time or expense of mastering Photoshop. The basic service is free, or you can pay a small monthly fee to upgrade to more editing options. Maybe my favorite part is PicMonkey's sense of humor and general cheekiness. Any website that has a monkey winking at me is alright by me, you know?

A few weeks ago, PicMonkey contacted me to see if I would share my love here on the blog - which I agreed to immediately, since I rave about PicMonkey in real life and I'm a little abashed I haven't told you about it before - in exchange for giving away a one-month subscription to their upgraded services. So there you go! I've told you of my monkey love. Now you get the gift.
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Winter Always Quiets Me

Winter always quiets me.

At first, it's a quiet born of distraction. December's hustle consumes. I am mesmerized by the sparkle, absorbed by the traditions, seduced once again by Immanuel made new. It's a roller coaster that allows no time for reflection until the ride comes to a end, gently slowing, returning to where it all began.

And then it's January, and I'm flat worn out. I'm satiated, almost gluttonous with the richness of the past few weeks. I'm ready to fast, to cut back and reign in. The snow falls fresh, and the hustle is but a distant rattle of a train long passed. The silence of winter is palpable, you can sink into it if you sit long enough. Even the busy thoughts - I should fold the laundry, what happened to that homework paper, maybe I should write something - get swallowed up by the stillness. Instead of doing, my soul listens.

That is a good quiet.

But there's another side to winter's noiselessness. It's the chill of apathy, the freezing fingers of fear. It's when the polar vortex of lies slips in through the cracks and works its way into your bones without you really noticing. All of a sudden, I find myself chained to the couch, huddled under a familiar old blanket, drowsy and dull. Goals and dreams have no power here. I am rooted in fear, not rooted in love, and I am stiff with cold.

That is a bad quiet.

Wisdom is recognizing which quiet has captured me.

Today is The Day

Today is the day to right the ship.

It's a day for Tom & Jerry on the TV, for toys being picked up and put away, for Christmas jazz to play constant. It's for doing laundry and for cleaning those sticky spots off the kitchen floor and getting out the toilet bowl scrubber and doing what must be done after a week of guests in the house.

Thanksgiving was incredible this year.

I'm not sure I've ever had my family come for this particular holiday. We had almost 20 around the table, and the whole day sparkled like a drop of dew in the sun. (Or maybe like a pat of butter melting on a homemade roll; that's probably more apropos.) We laughed and played games and ate ourselves sick. And then we ate some more. Because that's what we do.

And the cousins. My goodness. All the kids are getting old enough to play together now, and watching their relationships unfurl like a bud in the spring delighted me to no end. They kept disappearing together, to play puppies in a bedroom or to have a Nerf gun battle in the basement. I didn't grow up with cousins around, so to watch my kids form real friendships with my sister's kids is a joy new to me.

But now the party is over. The last of the house guests left this morning, and just in time, because the chaos is right up to my chin.

I am the kind of person who loves to celebrate and be with my people and stay up late talking and eat just one more piece of pie. But after a few days of that, I am also the kind of person who craves routine and quiet and the simple peace of folding clothes still warm from the dryer. I relish both flavors of life.

So today, I will turn on every light in the house, and I will go room to room, restoring order. I will vacuum up the dog hair and the stray crumbs, and I will bet money I will find something belonging to my sister's family tucked under a bed or behind a cushion. I will wash every towel I own and I will make an extra cup of coffee, and when Kieran takes a nap this afternoon, I will crawl in next to him and revel in the softness of flannel sheets and the stillness of my monkey boy. And when the kids get home from school, we will do homework in a quiet kitchen and eat leftovers for dinner and maybe snuggle around the fireplace, a necessary act when the forecast calls for the season's first dumping of snow.

Today, I will give thanks for the memories made, for the laughter still echoing off the stones and for the glory in the ordinary. I am full, in every way.

Here, Taste This : Zesty Cranberry Sauce

My childhood memories of Thanksgiving are a blur of smells and sounds. Tableware clinking. Fresh rolls baking. Turkey roasting. The sound of laughter. The crackle of a fire. But it was the sight of the jiggling, crimson cranberry sauce that trumpeted "Thanksgiving is here." It was my favorite, even as a little girl. I would patiently wait for the silver serving dish of sliced rounds to reach me, and then I would take two. Or maybe three. Cranberry sauce was only served at Thanksgiving, so I felt justified in second servings.

Now that I'm a grown-up (most of the time), I still favor the cranberry sauce above all else. It is Thanksgiving to me. And this recipe? Oh my word. Cranberry sauce perfection. The ideal blend of sweet-tart. It's easier to make this than to shlunk it out of a can. And so much better.


Zesty Cranberry Sauce

1 12 oz bag fresh cranberries (about 3 cups)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/3 cup water
1/3 cup orange juice
2 teaspoons grated orange peel
1/8 teaspoon cinnamon

Directions:
Combine everything in a medium pot and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until cranberries begin to pop, about 8-10 minutes. Serve at room temperature or chilled.

Here, Taste This: Nannie's Pumpkin Pie

I'm channeling my inner Peach this week: "Today's the day! The sun is shining! The tank is clean!" Because Thanksgiving is FINALLY here. It's my favorite holiday, probably because it's the least tainted with consumerism. (I know Black Friday is trying to suck the heart out of it; this post says it all. But if you ignore the must-buy-more hype and fix your eyes on your blessings, the Black Friday ghoul can't have you.)

Plus, food is my love language and my main spiritual gift. Cooking a huge meal and then serving it to my favorite people? It's my sweet spot.

Last year I posted my entire Thanksgiving menu on the blog, because it's the perfect symphonic meal. Sweet, salty, tart, sweet, crunchy, creamy. I can't really alter a thing without losing something. If you're looking for the complete package, head there.

But maybe you're just looking for a little something: a killer dish to bring to the in-laws, perhaps, or a fresh take on a classic. In that case, let me highlight my two favorite recipes for you. Some might say these are sides, ancillary dishes to the main deal. But I say these are the true heart-and-soul of Thanksgiving. Without these two dishes tucked away on my table, it isn't Thanksgiving to me.

Today, Nannie's Pumpkin Pie. Tomorrow: well, you'll just have to come back, won't you?



Nannie's Pumpkin Pie

In my opinion, pumpkin pie is more necessary than turkey for a real Thanksgiving. I know some people don't like it, to which I say: What is WRONG with you freaks?

Maybe it's because you don't have my Nannie's recipe for pumpkin pie, which has the perfect blend of sugar and spice. According to family lore, Nannie got the recipe off a Kroger's can of pumpkin in the 1940s, when food was being rationed for the war. It has simple ingredients and it's easy to make and it's practically fool-proof.

Ingredients:
15 oz canned pumpkin
3/4 cup brown sugar
2 eggs, beaten
1-1/2 tablespoons melted butter
1 tablespoon dark molasses
1-1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
3/4 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon salt

Directions:
Mix all ingredients well. Bake in an unbaked pie crust at 450 degrees for 10 minutes, and then 350 degrees until set, about another 45 min.

Here, Taste This : Maple-Glazed Butternut Squash with Clementines and Pancetta

I don't know about you, but I often clip recipes or Pin them and then chicken out on the follow-through. As in, I like to think about them and look at the pretty pictures and imagine how wonderful that dish might taste. And then I don't cook it. Because what if it's a horrible flop? What if I waste food? It's easier to stick with the tried-and-true.

Pinterest: Where Inspiration Goes to Die.

But this past week, I was solo parenting, and the kids and I were going to have leftovers, again, and something rose up in my soul and said: I want to make something NEW and GOOD and HEALTHY. And I just happened to have a recipe on my counter I had cut out of Better Homes & Garden last weekend. And I just happened to have all the ingredients already, which an even bigger miracle. So I decided to do hard things and try something new and I got out my butternut squash and went to work. And lo, when I took that first bite, the heavens parted and the angels sang and OH MY WORD it was the best thing I'd eaten in months. I raved and wept and pleaded with my kids to "try this, you have to try it, it's amazing," but they scorned my offering. So I ate half the pan for dinner - that's one pound of butternut squash, for the record - and I groaned with joy the rest of the night.

If that isn't an endorsement, I don't know what is.


Maple-Glazed Butternut Squash with Clementines and Pancetta
Loosely adapted from Better Homes & Garden, November 2013

3 ounces pancetta, chopped
2 tbsp butter
2 pounds butternut squash, cubed into 1-inch cubes
1/2 cup water
3 tbsp maple syrup
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup unpeeled, seeded clementines, cut into 1/2-inch wedges
1/2 cup orange juice

Directions:
1. In a high-sided skillet, cook pancetta over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until crisp. Using a slotted spoon, remove pancetta to a paper towel to drain.
2. To drippings still in pan, add butter. Once melted, add squash. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until squash just starts to soften, around 2-3 minutes.
3. Add water, maple syrup, and salt to pan. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 5 minutes, stirring as needed. Add clementines and juice and cook, uncovered, for 4-5 minutes more, until liquid has reduced slightly and both the squash and the orange slices are tender.
4. Transfer to a serving dish or plate up and top with pancetta and cracked black pepper.

Tips:
1. This recipe marks my first time ever cooking with pancetta. I just happened to have some in my fridge from a gift basket Corey received. And it was amazing. But I imagine you could get the same salty, crunchy flavor kick by using bacon. For the record: 3 ounces of pancetta equaled 3 slices of my package. It was about 1/3 cup of pancetta bits, once cooked.
2. Costco sells peeled, seeded and cubed butternut squash. I love buying it ready to go (and frankly, if I had to peel, seed and chop a squash for this recipe, I probably wouldn't have tried it on a night I was solo parenting). If you can get the squash ready to go like that, I highly recommend it. It's the difference between declaring this recipe easy versus labor intensive.
3. I was skeptical that I didn't need to peel the clementines, but the original recipe promised the thin skins would soften during cooking and become edible. And wouldn't you know, they were right. The skins even added a slight tang of extra orange to the dish.
4. Do I even need to say that you must use real maple syrup for this recipe, and not some maple-flavored corn syrup? No? Good.
5. The smaller your squash, the faster this dish will cook. Mine was slightly too soft. It didn't hurt the flavor at all, but if you're a texture person, you will want to watch that closely.

What I Learned Doing 31 Days

I have to say: I enjoyed not blogging the last few days. Writing 31 Days of Birthdays was both enjoyable and backbreaking. I'm happy I did it; I've wanted to share my birthday party stories for years. And if I'm honest, I'm proud I did it. I told some friends last week it felt like finishing a 5K (or what I imagine it would feel like to finish a 5K): it took discipline, sweat and hard work, and I'm slightly in awe that I made it across the finish line in one piece. It's thrilling just to end upright.

But I will also say: It was tiring. And narrowing. I learned a lot. A few notables for people who might consider joining in The Nester's 31 Days series next time:

1. Pick a topic that excites you.
As I mentioned in my introductory post, I thought about blogging 31 Days of Birthdays for two years before I officially jumped in. Part of that is due to my ENFP I-hate-to-make-decisions, let's-consider-yet-another-option personality. But it's also because I've learned it's wise for me to think deeply before I commit to something so consuming. In my 20s, I had a tendency to commit to everything and finish very little. (Hashtag ENFP.) I don't do that as much now, because I hate-despise-shudder when I can't follow-through. So taking two years to really mull over 31 Days of Birthdays - do I have 31 days of material? do I really want to write about one topic for an entire month? how would I blog daily even while solo parenting four kids? - helped me mentally prepare for the task ahead. That prep time was invaluable to me. It built a foundation of confidence and determination that I needed to persevere.

2. Plan ahead.
I know not everyone is a planner, but I really think this is makes the difference between a good 31 Day series and a great one. Don't pick a topic and then wing it. Don't hope inspiration will strike you afresh every day. Don't just plan a few posts and then assume the rest will come. If you've truly picked a topic you're passionate about, you should be able to sketch out 31 post ideas before October even begins. I like visuals, so I drew up a schedule on a calendar page, so I could better organize and see at a glance what was coming up.

3. Start strong and schedule wisely.
Because I had a topic that excited me and because I planned ahead, I was able to prioritize my favorite posts. I wanted several of them to come that very first week, when the 31 Days link-ups over Nester's place were most active. Good first impression and all that. I also made sure my best posts didn't fall on the weekends, when we all tend to walk away from the computer. If I had a birthday party I really wanted to share, I scheduled it for a time when I know most of us are available and reading.

4. Solicit guest posts to fill in when you know your own calendar will be full.
When I made my 31 Days schedule, I immediately noticed the third week of October was going to be crazy for me. Not only did Connor's birthday come in the middle of the week, but the kids had fall break immediately afterwards and I had already committed to conferences, a field trip and various church activities. So my first task, after writing my introductory post, was to ask several blogging friends if they wanted to write a guest offering. When they graciously agreed, I scheduled them for the week when I knew I'd be most distracted. It was a huge blessing (overused word, but it's the best one in this case) to have those guests posts waiting in the wings when my life was swirling and my mental capacities were taxed.

And then there were the introspective lessons:

5. Defined topics are easier to write about than nebulous ones.
Writing about a defined, concrete topic like birthday parties was incredibly fun for me. A revelation. And easy, oy. So much easier than writing about feelings and thoughts and opinions. Writing 31 Days, I remembered why I enjoyed writing news for a living: facts, facts and more facts with a literary twist. Deadlines are hard and fast. Write, edit, then move on. No time to fuss. No pensive naval-gazing. Just the basic information. And gosh, that style of writing is my sweet spot.

Does it mean I should do more of that, if I primarily blog for fun? Probably. Does it mean I should avoid writing that causes me to struggle and strain and get frustrated because I can't seem to make the words do what I want them to do? Probably not. I think we need both styles of writing in this world: informational and inspirational. My favorite writers do both, in varying degrees. The thing I need to discover is where I fit in that spectrum. (See: the writer's holy grail, aka finding one's voice.)

5. Writing daily for my own blog eats up all my free time.
This might have been the most surprising thing I learned during my 31 Day series. I'm at a stage of life where free time is a precious commodity. I have four kids, I solo parent a lot. The only me time I get is after all my kids are tucked into bed and asleep, which is well after 10:00 most nights. I might then secret away for an hour and read blogs or watch Netflix or listen to a podcast while I fold laundry. But all that becomes luxury if I've committed to write a blog post every day, because that precious hour of free time is eaten up with writing. I was OK with it in October, because I was committed to 31 Days as a discipline. I wanted the focus, I accepted the limitations.

But I missed my other interests, especially reading and commenting on other blogs. I was depressed to have to spend all my time producing content and none consuming it. I missed that I no longer had the space to read what my friends were writing, to hear what they were learning and thinking. I was disheartened that I didn't have the time to reciprocate attention to bloggers who faithfully cheered me along the way. This community, this camaraderie, it's one of my favorite aspects of blogging. I can't enjoy the blogging life and produce content every day, at least not right now, at this stage of life. Which is why I will now return to my normal schedule of posting 2-3 times a week.

You're welcome. And thank you. Truly. Thank you.