Lunch Funnies

Day in, day out making the same peanut butter and jelly sandwich for an entire year of elementary school lunches can get old. I have tried other things in my son's lunchbox. But nothing reminds him of home and the goodness of mankind like PB&J. I completely understand.

When I was a kid, I went home for lunch. In today's go-go society, that seems pretty odd now. The fact was I lived exactly two blocks from school and it seemed natural to pop home for a meal. Even better yet, the school thought it was fine too.

During my middle school years, I remember walking down leaf strewn streets during gorgeous Indian Summer days. The cool crisp fall weather and blue sky overhead was a refreshing escape from the drab cafeteria. Waiting for me would be my mom and a bowl of tomato soup with oyster crackers, or sometimes what she called "toast treasures." They weren't really anything more than buttered toast cut up in thirds. Having that chance to escape even for 30 minutes became a touchstone for my day. It became a reassurance, a comfort-style grounding.

In an effort to repeat that for my son, we happened upon the idea of the "lunch funnies." It all started one Wednesday when I witnessed my son's classmate laughing hysterically over her lunchbox. Showing no shame, I snooped over her shoulder to see that her dad had written a hilarious knock-knock joke. It was not a one hit wonder either, she told me he made up a new one every single day.

Now I have written a nice “love ya” note or sometimes tucked “have a great day!” well wishes in my son's desk. But to put a joke in every day and to actually invent it too, that was taking it to a new level. I loved the idea of the lunch funnies -- a happy way to make a plain day sparkle. Lunch with a joke was a sweet reminder to put a smile on his face. Even though lunch would always be PB&J, I could invent new wonder daily with the lunch funnies.

Some say imitating genius is the highest form of flattery. Smartly, I borrowed the joke idea and made it my own. Like finding the prize at the bottom of the Cracker Jack box, my son looked forward to my lunch time whimsy. Later I would find the jokes I had written stuck in his locker, folded up carefully and tucked in his pockets, secreted away in his back pack. He would save every single one and carry it with him all day long.

He loved it so much I started inventing new ways to be funny. One time I put a pack of sardines in his lunchbox with a note that said “something is fishy around here!” Then there was the sporting phase where I would put in golf balls, mini basketballs and wrote notes about “have a ball at school!” The balls weren’t the best idea because you can imagine the ruckus that followed with rolling a golf ball around a bunch of second graders.

The spring brought the bug phase where I would put pretend rubber bugs in things like snack crackers or crawling on sandwiches or popping out of snacks. The bugs made for a high scream factor among girl classmates, so I had to taper that one off quickly.

This year in third grade, we are back to the jokes again. Each day he loves to report back on how funny he thought it was or ask a question if he didn’t get it. More than anything, I wanted my son to remember that even though I wasn’t with him, he’s still on my heart. I wanted his daily lunch funnies to be a reminder that despite how good or bad your day goes, you can always find an opportunity to laugh. To know, even in the ordinary moments, there is joy.

PS. If you want to feel really inadequate as a parent, check out Cookie Magazine’s 30 Days, 30 Lunches Blog. A friend sent it to me as an inspiration with amazing ideas for lunches including puzzle-shaped sandwiches, sculpted animal snacks and heirloom quality note-cards. Check it out at www.cookiemag.com/magazine/blogs/food/30-days-of-lunch/.

Small Time is Big Time

If you had to come up with one little thing that would make your life better, what would it be?

Repeat, little thing, not big thing. I recently read this idea about teeny tiny changes and thought the chances of something small making a difference are only that, small. Nevertheless, I thought I would give it a whirl and my little thing would be to spend 15 minutes a day on piano.

The backstory is I started playing piano several years ago on a whim. I had taken it as a child and hated it. My piano teacher, Mrs. Coon had breath that smelled like feet. She used to press her bony fingers down hard on top of my hands as I played. Apparently she was going to put piano into me by force. The only good thing about going to Mrs. Coon’s house was riding the school bus there and getting to watch TV while my brother had his lesson first.

The practice lasted until my mom could no longer afford it and I was all to glad to be done with Mrs. Coon. Fast forward about 30 years. A friend and I were having a conversation about regrets. We were asking each other if we died today, what would be our greatest regret for not having done in this lifetime. Without hesitation, I said “piano.”

It shocked me that it came out. Somewhere in the dusty attic of my soul, this deep longing to play piano showed up. The truth was that I loved piano, I didn’t love the way I learned it. I wanted to be good at something that was hard, that took practice, using a totally different side of my brain. For me, there is a complete undoing that happens when I listen to stunning piano music. Like combing through the ratty parts of my spirit, piano somehow tapped into hidden, lost places.

I longed to play, to be able to read music, to sit down and hammer out a jubilantly spirited tune. To be like a movie during the holidays, where friends and family gather around a beautiful baby grand, belting out Christmas carols as I accompany on the piano.

So I began the piano, or pseudo-return to my childhood over three years ago. At first it was fun, really really fun. I found a fantastic young piano teacher who was spirited, yet challenging. She would clap and sing along as I heartily played the Mexican Hat Dance. It was a blast. But as I progressed in my lessons, it got hard. As you know, anything worth doing, is hard. And I noticed it became harder and harder to find time to practice. Without meaning to, piano was sliding out of my life.

In my heart I wanted to keep going, but it required more effort than I had planned. As I read about the tiny changes, I immediately thought about piano. If I set aside 15 minutes a day, which is not very much time, I would at least make an effort. Fifteen minutes is nothing, it’s a cup of coffee, a trip to the bathroom, a flip through a magazine – I could handle 15 minutes.

I found that once I got started in my 15 minutes of fame, I was lost in it. All I wanted to do was keep going. Ticking off my 15 minutes soon turned to 30 minutes and I looked forward to my time just to play each day.

Seriously, you may be wondering, what is the point of this piano? Nothing really other than sure pleasure. This is my time to do something completely ridiculous and lovely all for me. I’m not going to be a concert pianist anytime soon, but Christmas caroling parties might be in my future. It shows that I have a passion that I'm not afraid to put to use, however ridiculous. It’s certainly a much better use of my time than Facebook.

The beauty of it is that it only takes 15 minutes – or at least that is what I tell myself. But those 15 minutes are probably one of the best parts of my day. It's ironic to me that to do the things we love, we have to fool ourselves into it. Fooling or not, this small is big to me.

Building a Better Lunchbox

67 pounds of trash.

That’s how much the average child creates in waste every year with a disposable lunch. (Source: www.wastefreelunches.org)

This trying-to-be-green momma wanted to start the school year off in a kinder way for the environment. So, instead of stocking up on all the plastic baggies, single serving snacks and bottled waters, I did some homework on building a better lunch box. I hope my ideas will inspire you to make a little change, or at least whittle down a few of those 67 pounds of trash.

Building a Greener Lunchbox Ideas:

• Amp Up the Lunchbox — find a reusable lunchbox that rocks. If your kids love it, they will use it and not lose it. My son loves gaming and computers, so I got him the “Laptop Lunchbox” -- a mini laptop style case with cool reusable containers inside. (www.laptoplunches.com) Find out what your child loves and see if you can match your lunchbox to suit their passions. A great source to peruse some clever options is www.lunchboxes.com.
• Size Matters — Find a drink container with a realistic amount of liquid for your child. Last year, I bought a large size reusable water bottle, but realized I was wasting most of it since my child only drank a small portion. Reusable water bottles now come in a variety of sizes to accommodate your needs. My favorite new water bottle is from Camelbak. It has a fun pop up valve that is super easy to clean and a perfect portion. www.camelbak.com.
• Make Your Own Single Serving Snacks — Buying the single portion snacks is certainly a timesaver, but when you calculate the cost of how much you are spending and the additional trash, it’s not really worth it. I decided to get creative in making my own snacks for the week — I had my child pick out bulks items he likes such as yogurt raisins, peanuts, gummy bears, graham crackers, animal crackers and pretzel sticks. Then we mix and match to make our own snack combination. This was more fun, better for the environment and usually healthier in the end.
• Little Things Add Up: It’s easy to forget about small things like napkins, utensils, sandwich wraps — but with a little thought, switching over to greener versions is a snap. Consider using a cloth napkins, reusable utensils and cloth sandwich wraps -- all of these make a big difference when creating trash in the lunchroom. For ideas on recyclable materials for lunchboxes, check out www.reusablebags.com or use resources you already have at home.

Lastly, brainstorm with your kids on ways that they can help cut down on trash. Kids understand and want to make a difference -- this is a great opportunity to pass along a valuable life lesson of taking care of the fabulous resources we have been given. Not only are you eliminating trash, but you are showing them what a good steward of Mother Earth looks like. And that is a lesson any momma (or daddy) could be proud of.

For more information and ideas, check out www.wastefreelunches.org.

The End of the Morning Crazies

School is here, cue the deep sigh. Yes I love that back to school feeling with the fresh crayons, brand new notebooks and shiny shoes. But with those 48 crayons and the built-in sharpener comes an amazing level of everyday stress that simply doesn’t exist in July.

My sentences now begin and end with “hurry up” in the mean mommy voice. Getting out the door with everything required for a full day sometimes feels like performing laproscopic surgery with a pair of chopsticks.

I was recently perusing magazines and found one really slick publication that featured a story about “the unhurried child.” Wow, that would be so nice. Despite my best attempts to be organized, have backpacks ready to go and clothes laid out in those neat Lillian Vernon day- of-the-week cubbies, my school mornings feel like one big adrenaline latte.

As I was noticing my heart palpitations knocking on my chest before it was even 7:19 a.m., I thought there has got to be a better way. The insanity of being so rushed and stressed before you even start your car engine is simply not right.

How we start our days with our family is so important – it sets the tone and feel for what follows whether we like it or not. Mornings will never be perfect, but there have to be some ways to make them feel a bit better. Below are a few thoughts that I came up with to add a nicer hum to my morning.

This is not the list of “perfect ways to make life perfect.” I don’t have it all figured out, I’m working it out just like you are. But here are a few of my ideas to improve the day – test them for yourself or create your own.

Wake Up Earlier.

I know this seems pretty “duh” but adding a bit more “wakey wakey eggs and bakey” time to my son’s day is really what he needed. He likes to do one thing, play a bit, do another thing, play a bit. So now that I know this, I added in a bit more time for the wake up margin in the process.

Find a Carpool to Share the Commute.

I realize not everyone commutes to school – so if your child gets on a bus, count yourself blessed. Carpooling requires a bit of work and more planning. For me, this was the thing that absolutely drove me crazy – being totally stressed out in ridiculous traffic all the way to school. But finding someone to share the driving can be a beautiful thing. Other creative ideas include “Friday Daddy Pickup” or “Grandparent Day Pickup.” Consider a play date pickup exchange as it makes sense – anything to reduce the amount of time you have to zoom to and fro to school in your car. If you feel selfish about asking for this, tell people it’s because you want to save the planet.

Do a Couple Things the Night Before.

I am much more together when I’m not freaking out in the morning. Stringing together a couple small items to prepare your day seems like a no-brainer, but often we forget to do them. A couple ideas: check your child’s backpack for all the books they need. Pack the lunch the night before. Make sure homework is complete. Have your child take a bath and lay out clothes for the next day. Have them wear their clothes for school to bed (just kidding, I just wanted to see if you were paying attention.) But seriously, a couple little things put together make a huge difference in your morning.

Go Easy on the Caffeine.

Somehow I always think drinking a couple cups of coffee will assist me with the madness. But when I find that my head is thumping to the tune of Radio Disney, I realize maybe caffeine is adding more fuel to the insanity. My reward for successfully getting through the morning is sitting down at my desk to a nice cup of coffee. Caffeine has now become my treat after my child is off to school and the calming moment to set up my day.

Don’t Forget About Yourself.

Sometimes I get so obsessed about what my son needs for his day, I forget about my own needs. Then the reason I become “psycho mommy” is because I am rushing around for all the things I need for my day. Take a few moments the night before to consider what you need for an excellent day. A workout bag, a lunch packed, movies to return placed in your car – whatever you may need for your day, think about getting ready the night before or in the time before your child wakes up.

Remember The Forgets.

Everyone forgets stuff. But if there are things that you consistently forget, try to stock your car with these items. Snacks, breakfast bars, water bottles, running clothes, your journal, a magazine to read in carpool – whatever the items that you usually wished you had remembered can be a lifesaver. I always forget to eat breakfast – so my glovebox is filled with all sorts of snacks.

Create Rewards to Celebrate.

Everyone likes a treat. Consider little special rewards to celebrate smooth mornings. It can be a small thing like having a special breakfast at McDonald’s for being on time all week. Another idea is a little note in the lunch box or backpack thanking them for helping get the day started in a great way. A special activity together after school lets your child know how much you appreciate their help to be prepared for the day. We all love to be celebrated and it doesn’t require much additional effort.

Ready For Launch

I like to call the time getting ready for school and my day as “Launch Mode.” It has an official and scientific sound about it and it makes me feel important. Do yourself a favor and find what tools and strategies for your family you can design to make a successful launch. They have all the power to make your days a true blast.

Tell Me a Story

There is a quote that says "storytelling rescued me most of my life" from Writer Armistead Maupin.

I felt that way this week as I laid a cold compress to my son's forehead. In my freaky mommy brain his horrible headache was worming it's way to certainly becoming brain cancer, a cerebral bleed or most likely a concussion. It was a simple headache, but somehow I had let myself travel down the mommy "fear luge" to arrive at the worst case scenario. I knew that when my son asks me to tell him a story, instead of reading one -- it means he truly doesn't feel well.

So as I pressed his forehead and waited for the Motrin to kick in, he asked for me to tell him a story. In an effort to distract myself from the crazy brain, I tried remembering the funniest stories of my childhood. I know how he loves to hear about the days when I was a kid. Somehow, my ordinary growing up days never grow old to him -- seeing every story filled with magic and charm.

"Do you want to hear the story about the school bus we transformed into a camper?" I asked gleefully (my favorite story).

"Mom, you have told me that one a thousand times," he said.

"How about the time I broke my leg playing darts in the church?" I offered.

"Heard it," he said in a tired voice. This wasn't working.

"Okay, how about the old family cabin in Kalkaska, Michigan story where we had to use an outhouse?"

"Wow! Tell me that one!" he said.

With relief, I told him the story about our family of five kids and two adults staying in a one room cabin deep in the wilderness of Michigan. I lavished and embellished my story about snowy winters where we hiked back in waist high snow, hauling food, clothing and whatever entertainment we needed. His favorite part was how there was only an outhouse until we got ultra modern and brought a portable potty about the size of a suitcase inside the house.

He was fascinated with the fact that there was no running water in this place, no TV and how we could all survive in that snowy little shack. But he was most fascinated with how the portable potty worked. He rolled with laughter at the idea of it and in his almost 8 year old brain, I'm sure he was imagining his mom as a 12 year-old peeing into a suitcase.

What struck me as funny was how riveting all this stuff was to him. All the things that I grew up thinking were so ridiculously rustic and horrible inconveniences made for great stories to him. He peppered me with question after question:

"How does a water pump work?" he asked.
"How does a portable potty flush?" he continued.
"Did you ever use the outhouse and was it creepy?"

He was full of questions and I could tell that all was well again with him. He begged me to tell him about the suitcase potty one more time.

"I think that is enough for tonight," I said happily knowing his headache was better and indeed only a headache.

With relief I could think back to times I had told him the stories. When he was hooked to IVs in the hospital, trying to overcome dehydration. When he lay in bed too sick to watch TV or even hold his head up. When he was wracked with a too high fever that would not budge with medicine, I told him the stories. The stories became my way of coping and distracting myself from the fear that lay before me. I can always count on the stories to remind me of brighter times and happier moments. 

Those were the kind of stories that Armistead quotes -- rescuing both of us once again.

Mama's In the Kitchen, Again

I hate the kitchen, I love the kitchen.

I loved the kitchen when I wasn't a grown up. Before the the time when I didn't have to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for every waking minute of my day. Or when I wasn't plankton brain exhausted from a day of work, only to have to face the kitchen. There I was, all alone to figure out how to feed my tribe. The mind-numbing feeling of coming up with dinner felt like having to do Phd level calculus with an abacus.

As a kid, the kitchen was a blast. My five siblings and my dad as the ringleader would all be given assignments. We used to get the newest issue of Cuisine Magazine (which no longer exists) and pour over which meal we would attempt as a family. My dad as our fearless head chef, my sister as the sous chef, the rest of us as mere line cooks and kitchen workers to help do the jobs for the meal.

Since I was the youngest, I usually got the job of dishwasher and setting the table. I did this all happily because watching my family members work in concert in kitchen was like watching a battle of the pans. We would each taste everything as we went, noticing how various spices improved things or brainstorming how we could take the meal to the next level.

Not only were we cooking as a family - it was like a party, a laboratory, a competition to see who could do their part the best, a chance to outshine in the spirit of fun. My dad with the dishtowel neatly tucked around his waist, a glass of rum and Coke in one hand - he would be the conductor of his noisy team. We would repeatedly trash the kitchen with choppings, dishes and tools everywhere. My job was to clean up behind everyone. And in the middle of it all would be the food-stained Cuisine magazine - our passport to epicurean exotica unknown.

Fast forward twenty years and here I am alone in the kitchen. By myself trying to be inspiring or find some sort of way to make the daily meal grind fun. As an adult I now appreciate what my dad did. I see how smart he was -- he could have begrudgingly cooked the meal for his five offspring or do what he did, make it a big giant project for all of us.

As parents, we probably spend more time in the kitchen than sleeping. I decided there had to be a better way than me, the momma, slaving over the stove and everyone else enjoying themselves until their restaurant meal was ready. Taking a cue from my dad's early teachings, I came up with a little list of ways to make kitchen time a more joyful experience. Here are a few ideas to try out this summer to see if you can transform your kitchen into the family fun zone. At the very least, not to be all alone in the kitchen.

Making Kitchen Time Fun Time

1. Start Simple.
Make one or two small changes to start. For starters, pick one special night of the week to make "family cooking night." Rome wasn't built in a day and small changes in your family kitchen are easier to manage in bite size steps.

2. Begin with something everyone loves.
Consider something easy to prepare and something your family already adores. Pizza, spaghetti and meatballs, nachos or roast chicken are all easy ideas.

3. Create ambiance.
If you're going to be in the kitchen together, you might as well make it beautiful. Consider matching the music to your menu theme with opera, salsa or country. While you are at it, get out the good plates, napkins and China. Life's too short not to eat off the good stuff.

4. Turn the TV off.
Declare a moratorium on the TV for family cooking night. The Weather Channel, Disney and MTV will still be available when you are done eating.

5. Be educational in a sneaky way.
Don't miss the chance to pass along valuable life skills as you go. This isn't a lecture on how to be a chef, but important things they eventually will want to know as a functioning person in society. This will vary according to your child's age but ideas might include how long to boil spaghetti, how to grate and chop. Pass along knowledge to them in a soft way that teaches them without them even knowing it.

6. Ask good questions.
Use this time to connect with your family in unique ways. This is your shining moment to enjoy them. Ask them the funniest thing that happened today. Or find out when they were most creative. What was the best thing they did during the day. Take turns letting them ask you good questions.

7. Move outside your comfort zone.
Once in awhile mix things up by trying something totally new and out of everyone's comfort zone. Ideas might include: fondue night, sushi rolling or breakfast for dinner.

8. Be sensory.
Invite your family to use their senses. How do things taste and how can they be improved? Experiment with spices and create a learning laboratory. Have them describe the way things taste using as many adjectives as they can.

9. Let the kids be in charge.
Your kids will have more fun if you let them make choices or be in charge, once in awhile. Ask them to be the "head chef" -- pick the menu or to decide which jobs everyone gets.

10. Be goofy.
If you can't have fun, what's the point? Get out aprons for everyone, don chef hats, dance a little, get your hands dirty, sing as you cook, play with your food. You aren't cooking for an award, this is a chance to connect with your family and create something together. Enjoy it!

Chocolate Bon-Bons From God

Looking back in my rear view mirror, I saw her.

A woman waving at me frantically, desperate to get my attention at the stoplight. I had that feeling in my stomach as if I was about ready to get scolded for something I didn't do.

She's going to tell me I cut her off, or my gas cap is undone (didn't I put it back on?) Better yet, my clothes were probably hanging out of my car and now stained with mud and highway tar. I rolled my eyes and rolled down the window, ready for whatever insult was going to come my way.

She stuck out her head and yelled "I read your book! My husband got it for me and it was awesome!"

Then the light changed and I turned and she was gone.

Huh?

Here I was thinking I was about ready to be taken down and instead I was given a flower. Really more like a bouquet, a giant bouquet of roses in my favorite color for no apparent reason. By a complete stranger who had read my book, words that I had dreamed long ago in my head and dared to publish. She had read them and saw me in the middle of no where. Well, I guess Cary, NC isn't really "no where." But she took the the time to notice and tell me. I was thrilled.

I didn't tell you that story to brag or puff up my ego (although apparently I could use it.) What was funny is how it's so easy to assume the worst about everything. How we can create our own little mini-dramas in our head only to be completely wrong. It got me thinking how many times I had totally gotten it wrong and perhaps never even knew it.

Whenever someone compliments me for my writing, it feels like getting a giant chocolate bon-bon from God. It tells me to keep going and that I'm on the right path. That may seem weird, but it's affirming to know that people read my work and then remember it. They may not get it or even like it. But it tells me that I'm putting my gifts and talents to work. Or in the words of Wonder Woman, my favorite childhood superhero, "I'm using my super powers for good."

As I plow through another work week ahead, instead of assuming the junk, I'm going to look for the flowers. Or better yet, I'm going to look out for the bon-bons. You never know where they might turn up.