Waste Line

People in my family understood hunger personally.  Stories of a foster family that fed my great-grandfather rather indifferently with lard or whatever was at hand.  My grandfather ate after his father and older brothers were through.  Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes were the menu for everyone when the Celanese laid people off.  For our family it was the forlorn can of beets my mother bought, but no one wanted to eat--for one reason, who eats beets? For the other, when the beets came out, we knew the cupboard was empty.  They didn't come out often, but not knowing what's next makes a strong impression.  

I tried to make sure that calories didn't go to waste.  I ate up leftovers.  Cheap was good, even if it wasn't good--take non-cheese cheese.  To this day I love Ramen noodles.  Rice, pasta, potatoes stretched the family food budget.  I didn't like beef, because the cuts we could afford took forever to chew.  When Kurt and I married, I told him I defined rich as being able to put whatever I want to eat in the grocery cart without having to think twice at the register.  He had us rich as Croesus in two years.  

I find such pleasure in feeding my kids.  It's the same pleasure my grandparents took in feeding me.  

During the holidays I like to offer all our favorite things in abundance.  I like for our storage shelves to be open and full.  If you can open the fridge you are allowed to peruse it's contents and choose a snack.  The catch 22 is that calories are always on the verge of being wasted, and I save them, literally, on my waistline.  Throwing away food always feels so fancy-fine and ladeedah.  I've learned to give it the Kurt test.  If he'd pitch it then it ought to be pitched.  I keep trying to find the right quantities of food, but shopping at Sam's Club and the kid's fickle tastes don't make that easy.  Some things seem to live on our shelves forever.  I was so grateful when young friends were excited about the granola bars my kids had lost interest in several months back. Some day I will figure it all out, but for the moment I keep buying cookbooks for two, looking forward to the day when things will be manageable again.

Bunny Tree

When Kurt and I were pretty sure we were getting married, I gave him a teddy bear with huge feet.  The plan was to replace the bear with babies with big feet.  As the babies began to arrive their feet weren't fat and round, they were long and skinny--bunny feet.  Like all good moms, I collected stories to read to them that shored up their sense of unconditional love, Runaway Bunny was a natural addition. 

It's that time when good bunnies get ready to run.  I am watching as each one gathers up tools, and ideas, and love to use as they face the world.  My job is to stay out of the way and to refrain from locking them in any closets.  I've decided I'm the bunny tree, and I will wait for them to fly home--when they're ready.

Baby Blue

We took Mea on her last college visit to her most likely school, The University of Michigan.  We enjoyed the talk and tour, as they stirred up many memories for Kurt who is a loyal alum.  I wished, again, that I'd defied parental guidance and joined Kurt there, but then the loss of my scholarship would have been expensive.  College these days is too expensive.  Minds need to be fed, no matter their income.  I guess with that problem you start with preschool and work your way up.  

In any case I was proud of our girl.  The Wolverines will be very lucky to have her.

Puzzled

One time I was on something like a retreat that was supposed to be relaxing.  Activities of many kinds were everywhere including a table full of puzzles.  Now you need to know this was a low budget operation so the puzzles were missing many pieces.  There were at least four started and scattered around the table, and two of the box tops with the full picture were missing.  Trying to sort that out was impossible and the opposite of relaxing.

Today I thought, "I don't understand myself at all."  It's the most hope I've had for growing up in a long time.  When I think I understand something I can always pick out the next step, but what I pick is tainted by my flaws and wrong desires.  If I finally get it, that I don't get me, I might be able to get out of the way and let God have control.  I might grow up.  What an exciting day in a confusing life.  I don't need the box top with the full picture.  I need to trust his hands.

He knocked me up

every time I asked him to
He dealt with the fall out and the frequent flyer smiles.
I love him.
He gave me them.