Minivan Meal Idea

First off, let me start by acknowledging that this is not a food blog. What this *is* is a place for me to share my thoughts, insights and growth with you in the hopes that you might also be encouraged.

I have two children, one of whom, despite my ceaseless attempts, is not much of a breakfast eater. I have tried various breakfast ideas with her that have worked but sometimes struggle to keep it interesting.

And recently I have found it challenging to have healthy suppers ready on the fly. My children are active and we're in an "in between" season where swim club and gymnastics overlap, which means we're out of the house at supper time several nights each week. I refuse to eat out that often. Add Provincial Achievement Tests for both girls and now I'm extra concerned about a really good breakfast, too.

If your definition of a morning person is someone who eagerly jumps out of bed at 5 am, I don't qualify. I am not the kind of mom who enjoys getting up an hour before my children so I can bake fresh muffins for breakfast. My children learned at a young age to grab a juice box, a piece of fruit and a granola bar.

But I am the kind of mom who wants to teach her children that healthy food tastes good and that it doesn't have to be difficult.

Enter light bulb moment!

Scrambled omelettes! In bulk! If Jugo Juice can do it for their wraps (which I have duplicated for suppers), why can't I? The more I think about this, the more I wish I'd thought of it sooner.

What did I do? I threw 10 eggs, a splash of milk, a diced tomato, half a finely chopped onion, some chopped spinach, a yellow bell pepper and some cheese into my frying pan, cooked it up and threw it in the fridge so my kids can heat it up by themselves (they're old enough) in the morning. They can have it with a slice of toast or in a whole wheat wrap - their choice. It works for breakfast or supper on the fly and it's incredibly versatile. Your kids won't eat spinach? Don't put it in. They love bacon? Add some! Use what works for you, even if it's just plain scrambled eggs.

I'm also known to have pre-cooked chicken breasts and a variety of fresh veggies on hand to make wraps for suppers on the fly. Add this idea to The Big Cook and I'm good to go.

What's your favorite way to beat the, "I'm hungry, can we stop at _______ (enter any fast food restaurant here)?" blues?

"Blinkets and Love," Part Two

We burned her blanket. We thought we were doing the right thing. Now we're undecided. This business of parenting, it's heart-wrenchingly difficult.

The hard stuff came. Regret. Sadness. Tears.

We cried together, she and I.

Watching a sad movie right before bed couldn't have helped, but my heart was grieving already anyway.

And then I remembered...

As she and I cry together... Made of the softest fabric possible, a small quilt I made for her years ago. It had been sitting, rarely used, in the cupboard.

And I could take it no longer.

She sleeps. Still I weep, thanking God for his goodness and grace - even in the hard and uncertain moments of loving our children.

"Blinkets and Love" - Another Step in Learning to Let Go

It happened yesterday and I still feel sad about it.

How long does it take a mother's heart to heal?

Perhaps I was just as attached to it as she was, maybe more. Or maybe my attachment is to my baby girl more than to the red Scottie-dog printed piece of flannel she has hauled around for the last nine years.

The idea came up a week ago. To be completely honest, I don't even remember how. A trade: Blankie gets thrown in the fire in exchange for early ear piercing. (The rule in our house has always been that you can get your ears pierced when you're 10.) We didn't think she would go for it. She did. Eagerly. Excitedly. Immediately. She really wanted earrings. Completely undeterred by the thought of pain, she was ready to throw her beloved Blankie in the fire.

Suddenly - and unexpectedly - I was hesitant, apprehensive. The thought of actually throwing Blankie in the fire, of following through, filled me with panic, with fear, with anxiety. What if she couldn't sleep? Better wait until a three-day weekend to make sure she has time to adjust. What if she cried? What if...? What if....? What if...?

All week, she asked to do it right then. All week I replied, "We need to wait until Daddy gets back from his work trip." "We need to wait until the weekend." "Are you SURE you want to do this?" I think I didn't want it to happen. I was not - am not - ready to let go.

Friday night arrived, Daddy caught an earlier flight home. Not five minutes after he walked in the door she appeared with Blankie in her hands, hope and excitement filling her eyes. My heart sank. I struggled to maintain my composure when all I wanted to do was go hide in my room and cry. But I was not going to miss this.

"Go get the scissors." We cut a couple pieces to keep, to scrapbook. She cut her piece carefully and purposefully. Sister decided she wanted a piece too. My soul anguished as Sister hacked in, straight for the middle. I was sure that would be "it." She smiled the whole time. My turn - Sweet Man said my piece was too large, I had to cut it down so there could be no turning back. Grudgingly, I obliged, all the while thinking Is this really for the best? Does it REALLY matter? So what if she really does take Blankie to college?

This blanket, this ragged, patched up, ratty old piece of flannel that caused us grief and sleepless nights in its absence more than once; this inconvenience that was impossible to keep clean, this false sense of security that traveled the world with us would finally be gone. Never again would I chuckle, shrug and say, "We waited too long, she's gonna take that thing to college now!"

I used to dream of getting rid of that thing. Especially when we didn't have it and it was getting late and she refused to sleep without it. Now I was a complete softie, wondering what I ever thought the harm was. Except, did I mention she always had it in her mouth? In spite of washing it regularly, I'm convinced that's a big part of the reason she has had so many more colds than the rest of us.

How could I follow through? Just last weekend I found a "story" she wrote that had been tucked away in her drawer full of paper for who-knows-how-long?

Blinkets and Love (typed as she wrote it)

1. One day I made a cwilt of love and gave it to my children they loved it so I made them cwilts every day.
2.  When my children grow up I had to stop making them baby cwilts and had to make them big girl blankets they loved them more so I made them big girl blankets every day.
3. When my children wher (were) prents (parents) I made they children cwilts they loved them so I made them blankets every day untell they were prents. 

The End

She obviously equates blankets and love. What if this breaks her heart?

What if it breaks mine?


Daddy stoked the fire, we followed through.








And while my heart grieved the end of an era, we celebrated the beginning of the next.