Mourning Summer and Learning From What Worked: Back to School

I felt like I was unexpectedly yanked out of summer, moving from warm sand to a cool sidewalk on a sunny fall morning. We awoke surprisingly early, matted down long summer hair, threw as many school supplies as we could organize into backpacks from last year, and kicked open the front door to the familiar sea of little kids and parents moving in a stream down the sidewalk to the first day of school. The feeling was of excitement and mourning. As a parent, I guided my guys to the front door of their elementary where many tearful, relieved, and harried parents caught up with each other and waved their children off. I too said ‘hi’ to a few friends and neighbors but promptly walked Eve back to the driveway, hopped in the car to drop her at Grandma’s house, and scoot off to my own campus. It begins again. Wash and repeat, the well-worn cycle of parenthood.

Although I probably could have slowly eased all of us into school mode, I wanted to hang on the last moments of summer. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t dying for my kids to go back to school Sorry, annoying – I know, many parents can’t identify with me here, but for us – this was a good summer. We were laxer than we should have been about reading, tutoring, and even general hygiene but our mental health soared. We surprisingly enjoyed the long lazy days of August together. I tempered my need to impose some inflexible structure (although some was important) and let my kids dictate much of their own time. iPad in the morning (oh my!), day filled with outdoor, unstructured activities, and dinner in the evening. Simple as that.

But, now we are off the races. I notice my shoulders feeling stiffer and my belly feeling jittery as I try to pack in my own work and manage the once again full lives of three little people I have under my care. How quickly this feeling returns. Instead of being swept into it and just working harder and faster to keep up, I am setting an intention for the fall – I will say ‘no’ more often, work to let go of the guilt associated with it, and remember these years are fleeting and fundamental in teaching my kids to live a well-balanced life. I am not perfect, they are not perfect, but my goal is to slow down. That means listening more to how my kids look and feel in the environment I am creating, talking about the importance of self-care and mental health, and modeling this at home. 

A farmstand in South Dartmouth, MA

Last Gasp of Summer Quahogs

A friend brought these over for a summer dinner. Kids and adults alike went crazy for the buttery stuffed clams and my 3-year-old asks for them every time we go to the market! Adapted from ‘Tim O’Tooles’ Famous Stuffed Quahogs’

4 cups water

16 ounces chorizo sausage

12 quahogs

1 large onion, finely chopped

1 sleeve of Ritz crackers, crushed

½ cup butter

1/3 cup of sherry

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Bring water to a boil over high heat. Add sausage links; reduce heat to medium and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove links from broth; reserve the broth. Remove casings from the sausage.

Bring the broth back to a simmer and add the quahogs; cook until they open, 5 to 10 minutes. Remove the quahogs; reserve the broth. Remove the cooked quahogs from the shells. Separate the shell halves. If necessary wash the shells.

Place the sausage and quahog meat into the bowl of a food processor; process until chopped, about 12 seconds, depending on your processor. Scrape mixture into a bowl. Add chopped onion to the processor; chop about 5 seconds. Stir in to the meat mixture.

Mix together the Ritz crackers, sherry, and sausage/clam/onion mixture. Spoon filling into empty clam shell halves and top each with a small pat of butter (about a third of a teaspoon).

Place the shells on a baking pan; bake in the preheated oven until toasty brown on top, 15 to 20 minutes.

I Hygge (HOO-gah), do you?

I do hygge (HOO-gah), do you? No, it’s not the newest drug you need to worry about or a funny dance your kid learned at preschool. It is a Danish word that represents ‘cozy togetherness’ and has been steeped into the culture since the 18th century.  It unifies families, makes homes cozier and people more joyful. Hygge is said to be a main reason Denmark has been consistently named the happiest country in the world (p.s. - the U.S. is currently 13th according to The World Happiness Report 2016). Mark (my husband) and I recently added a talk by Jessica Joelle-Alexander, the author of The Danish Way of Parenting, and listened to why hygge is a majorly important part of Danish culture and how it relates to raising families.

Hygge brings peoples together with the goal of being cozy, accepting, helpful, and non-judgmental in an emotionally safe space. A cozy dinner with friends or a holiday with family can be hyggelige - always lit by candles, soft clothes worn, mulled cider or hot chocolate drunk slowly by the fire, or some scene of the like. Games are often played and songs sung. Definitely no screens and no drama. Psychological utopia. This may sound like an unrealistic image and not one that relates to your experience of family holidays, it is something to aim for. Hygge is creating a time-limited space where everyone commits to connecting, sharing funny memories, and just being present. You may have just had a major blowout with your sibling, but those discussions are checked at the door and everyone pledges to contribute to a positive experience. When the evening is over, you can get back to your family beef. Hygge is about sculpting a safe place to relax and leave everyday stressors outside. It is a warm, mindful, and loving pause in the chaos of life.

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At the talk, Jessica Joelle-Alexander handed all participants a Hygge Oath, which now lives on our fridge. As you consider bringing this tradition into your home, she suggests that everyone must:

-        Turn off Phone and All Screens.  

-        Leave drama at the door. It can be re-visited later.

-        Avoid complaining unnecessarily.

-        Help out. Pitch in with the cooking, setting up, and organizing.

-        Light candles!

-        Mindfully enjoy the food and drink.

-        Avoid controversial topics such as: politics, religion, money. You can talk about these later.

-        Tell and re-tell funny, uplifting, and pleasurable stories from the past about each other.

-        Avoid bragging, it can be subtly divisive.

-        Think “we”, not “me”. The whole group is the most important unit during hygge.

-        Definitely avoid social jockeying.

-        No gossiping about others. Focus on the positive. 

-        Play games, and sing if possible!

-        Notice where the love is in the room and tune in to how it shows up in your family.

-        Practice gratitude.

As New England fall approaches, what a perfect time to practice hygge. As parents, hygge is a way to not only relax and enjoy your family, it also models the important practice of coming together even when there are difficult emotional issues and busy schedules at play. It sends the message that love and connection trump all. So, pull out your crockpot, slip into slippers, and light the fire – hygge at your house.

Mulled Wine for Hygge

1 (750 ml) bottle of dry red wine

2 oranges, sliced into rounds

1/4 cup brandy

1/4 cup honey or sugar

8 whole cloves

2-4 cinnamon sticks

2 star anise

Optional Garnishes: orange slices, cinnamon sticks, lemon or lime wedges.

DIRECTIONS:

Combine all ingredients in a saucepan, and bring to a low simmer (not a boil -- you don't want to boil the alcohol out!) over low heat.  Let the wine heat together for at least 30 minutes or up to a few hours. Often times, I put it on low in the crockpot and let it steep for half a day. Strain, and serve warm with your desired garnishes.

The Importance of Family Dinner: Past, Present, and Future

Frequently, it feels like a masochistic, self-torture ritual, and other days, it is parenting utopia - that is family dinner with 3 young children. Growing up on a farm, in a woodsy, beautiful neighborhood had many perks. I rode around Hillside Street on my blue banana seat bike and had regular ink berry fights with the boys down the road. But when 6pm hit, my Mum rang the old cow bell and all 7 of us would run to the round kitchen table. My Dad (who owned Thayer Nursery) rose from the field and the rest of us scrambled to the table, hoping to get a “seat on the outside” - a suppertime golden ticket to avoid being squished by siblings on the bench against the window. My Mum always prepared a well-rounded meat-and-potato-type meal and I ate what I felt like. Buttered rice and corn were always my favorite and there was not pressure to eat the spinach. It was a little loud and hard to get a word in, but it felt easy. Regardless of the day, the table was set, the cow bell rang, and a hot meal was served at 6pm. If the phone rang during supper, there was no way it was to be answered. Dessert tempted us from the counter and we indulged only after everyone finished their meal. When our bellies were stuffed (or not), the plates were cleared and everyone picked a cleanup chore to tackle. It was simple and expected. No questions asked, no debate. I imagine many people have a similar story. So, where did we diverge? Why have we moved away from family dinner as a culture? Why is it chaotic? What the heck happened!? Granted, I was born almost 10 years after my closest sibling so I might have missed the anarchy phase or have a completely idealized memory, but very few of my current day, family dinner experiences resemble the ease of my childhood supper. Sigh.

I am sure this is at least a moderately romanticized picture of my childhood but I know there is truth in this memory. Family dinner was simply “supper”, not anything special to announce we were eating together as a unit. It was part of the fabric of life, a beat in the rhythm of the day. I wish this was the case in my own home now. Instead, it is something I work at, research, and write about; an activity I enjoy on a good day, and one that burns me out the next. The psychology journals tell me that my future adolescents will be less likely to use drugs, have lower rates of depression and anxiety, and perform better in school because we eat dinner together, and I buy into that, but I sit with my kids over a meal mostly because it just feels right in my gut. So, I mentally committed to cooking and eating together most of the week (+/- husband), and as long it is feasible given the day.  After reading a lot about this subject and practicing the routine, dinner has gotten easier for a few reasons: 1) I changed my expectations, 2) I always have something everyone will eat, and 3) my kids continue to get older. After listening to a nutritionist speak at preschool, I learned that little ones really do not need to eat much to get nourished. As long as they try everything (even a tiny bite), they are free to eat what they want from their plate. But, if they have to eat at least some meat or veggie to get dessert. I don’t stress about quantity much. I gave up the power struggle of forcing a certain intake each meal. Secondly, if I prepare a more adventurous dinner, I always have baguette and cheese or romaine with homemade ranch dressing as well (both crowd pleasers). As long as they take a nibble of the new food, they are free to eat what they want. And lastly, what I can’t control, and ultimately don’t want to rush, is that all of this has proven itself to get better as my kids grow up. Each month, it seems that nanoseconds increase between feisty little hands reaching out and touching one and another. Refer to #1, change expectations.

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At the end of the day, I know my family dinners won’t be an exact replica of supper on Hillside Street for many different reasons, but mainly because it is a different era. Although I sadly do not have a cow bell and unfortunately always know where my kids are, the fundamental element remains the same – it is vital to take reliable and consistent time for each other, to nourish our bodies, and bring pleasure to the family through food. There is no right way to ‘do’ family dinner except to just do it in your own beautifully, unique way.

Mum’s (Marge Oldfield’s) Throwback Stringy Chicken

(originally from Campbell Soup)

1 1/4 pounds skinless, boneless chicken breast halves

1 can of Condensed Tomato Soup

1/2 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning or dried oregano leaves, crushed

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

½ - 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese or 1 fresh mozzarella ball sliced

3 cups cooked rice or pasta

• Heat the oven to 400°F.

• Place the chicken into an 11 x 7 x 2-inch baking dish. Stir the soup, Italian seasoning and garlic powder in a medium bowl. Spoon the soup mixture over the chicken.

• Bake for 20 minutes or until the chicken is cooked through. Sprinkle the chicken with the cheese. Serve the chicken and sauce with the rice or pasta.

Parenting Mindfully in Chaos

I work late on Tuesdays and this past one, I arrived home around 7:30pm. When I opened the door, I heard the kids in the kitchen and a "yay, mommy's home", which filled me with love and excitement to see my chickadees. I dropped my bag and headed into the kitchen to be met with "can you buy more ice cream" from one kid, and noticed how the other had decorated his entire face with a Permanent Gold Sharpie, like everywhere. The babe was toddling around, smiley and adorable, and understandably wanting to cling to me (given I had not seen her much that day). Very quickly, that initial love and excitement was masked by hunger, fatigue, and the need to get the kids to bed - immediately. I quite literally started calculating how long it would take to scrub Ty's face with some probably toxic, abrasive fluid to get the marker off, eat dinner, and get three kids to bed (hopefully with a book or two under their belt). Often on Tuesdays, I eat something quickly and not great for me and rush through dinner and bedtime. This week, instead, I decided to practice what I preach - an exercise in mindful parenting.

I often practice mindfulness at times that are easier - walking by myself, snuggling with Eve when she is sleepy and happy to be held, or lying with the boys before they fade away into their own dreams. Mindful parenting when it's chaotic, I am tired and hungry, and when the kids are tired and hyper is a different story. But, I tried. Knowing that success is measured in increased awareness and ability to come back to the breath when thoughts take me elsewhere, and not necessarily in some perfect state of trance and relaxation I picture Buddha accomplishing in a serene garden (although that would be amazing). So, I sat - in the busy kitchen, with Eve on the table in front of me nibbling on my dinner, and with Tyler (who was oblivious to the fact he was absolutely covered in permanent marker) lapping his ice cream happily and messily at the island. I breathed. And, I ate mindfully. More slowly. Noticing the tastes and sensations.  Not quite as focused as I would have liked but more aware then I generally would have been. In slowing down, I noticed the love and energy I felt when I first arrived home. The warmth. Aware that we were sitting as a family (minus a few members), in our cozy home with each other. I gave up on worrying that Eve was on the table (I was right there and she was safe) and instead I noticed how much she enjoyed my turkey meatballs. Cam returned to the kitchen and ended up engaging Eve (who is 17 months old) in some form of tag. To hear her deep giggle and see his pure adoration of her was beautiful. These are the moments I know I will miss one day. This picture lasted for a relatively short amount of time but I have to say, I enjoyed it more than most of my Tuesday evenings. By giving up on a rigid bedtime schedule and need to control the kids' behavior, I actually gave us all space to get what we needed and we all behaved better because of it. My shoulders relaxed, my dinner tasted good, and I enjoyed my children. The kids were loud, messy, and happy. Ty went to bed that night with marker all over his face, and Cam and Eve went down unremarkably although a tad later than usual.

Sometimes I feel like I am running to the end of some imaginary finish line. Rushing. Racing. Working hard. Stepping back from the natural frenzy of parenting and life, I realize that finish line is flexible and can be moved depending on the flow of the day. Some days, it needs to come sooner than others but other times, like Tuesday evening, it was okay to extend the race at a more reasonable and comfortable pace, and we were all better off because of it.