Holes and holes

There are holes in your heart and then there are holes in your heart.  Every breathing person struggles with the meaning and purpose of life in general and theirs in particular, that's what it is to be human and it is perfectly natural and normal, especially in your young life or after some great tragedy or life event, that hole is perfectly normal as is the struggle therewith.  But there is a subset of humanity that has a hole of another sort in its heart and they probably don't have any idea that it is there.  Just to survive they've rationalized it away, covered it up, ignored it, lied to themselves, and pretend that everything is okay.  But it isn't.  Everyone agrees that physical and sexual abuse are traumatic and horrible, we are even seeing emotional abuse gain footing as a legitimate tragedy, but there is something even more insidious and far harder to detect, acknowledge, and recognize: emotional neglect, but the adverse results on the lives of those affected are harrowing, but so subtle that its victims consider it normal.

I've had well meaning people tell me that 'at least you were clothed and fed,' and I'd like to reply that I would gladly have gone hungry occasionally if only I knew that I was loved and valued; do people say things like that of prison inmates or animals in a shelter?  I'd rather have been housed and fed by some cold and impersonal government agency than have lived with my biological family in the same sort of environment and twisted myself into knots trying to determine what was so horrid about me that I couldn't be loved, at least then I could blame the cold inefficiency of bureaucracy rather than trying to destroy myself to pardon my parents, for no child ever questions her mother's perfections, rather she will hate and blame herself for her mother's failings rather than admit some parental defect.  The results are hideous, but hidden under a veneer of fake normality.  Ripping off that false scar is the only way to heal, the process is long and painful, but far less miserable than living a lie.  Only then can you start to wrestle with the normal holes in the human heart.  To learn more, start here.

On Hopeless Cases

I tend to wear sandals with my skirts and dresses as I have sadly inherited my uncle's feet: think wide, big, and anything but feminine, and definitely a disaster to find a woman's dress shoe that is both comfortable and cute; it is a nice problem to have when looking for hiking boots though.  I actually joke that I have a farrier for a manicurist!  If I have the right sandals and paint my toes, you could almost imagine they belonged to a young lady, almost.  I also live in a place that gets very cold and has lots of snow for a good portion of the year which only complicates things.  When I wear sandals I get teased for wearing silly shoes on such a cold/snowy day.  When I wear big mean boots, people are aghast at my fashion choices.  I just can't win!  So I wear my sandals and let people wonder at my sanity (though if we leave town I have the boots along), but this Sunday my sandal broke so I ended up walking across the parking lot barefoot, yes my husband offered to get the car and pick me up at the door but it is a matter of principle: me versus the elements, or something like that.  Maybe I should start wondering about my own sanity!  Are people like this in hot climates or is my brain frostbitten?  If you think I'm bad, how about those guys in Wisconsin who go shirtless to a football game (in November)?

How to know when you are old

Everyone is obsessed with staying young these days, and I have discovered the secret to knowing if you are truly an immortal youth.  We've actually had winter this year: feet of snow, multiple blizzards, and then severe cold.  After all that, a certain four year old of my acquaintance insists he still loves snow, and I had to agree with him, as a kid, I loved snow, and anxiously awaited those glorious snow days when it was too nasty to go to school but I could go outside and play.  That's the test: do you love snow, does a blizzard inspire dreams of sledding and snow forts or do you groan about the impending shoveling?  If you love snow, congratulations, you are still young!  If your climate is not conducive to snow, you'll either have to move (ski vacations don't count, you have to live with the stuff for months on end) or discover some other metric.  If you are really determined about this, I can always use help shoveling so I'd be happy to help you out!

Overachievers

Anyone who has ever been a parent (or a kid), knows that our modern culture is all about milestones, achievements, and success.  It starts the minute you know you're pregnant and doesn't end, ever.  Boy or girl?  When do you first feel movement?  What about a name?  It's a competition and it never slackens, never lets up, if we let it.  What ever happened to childhood?  To innocence?  To fun and play and exploration and imagination?  They got eaten by the success monster.

Our little boy will be five this spring, and I guess he's finally, officially potty trained as of this morning.  We started when he was two.  From the time he was a year old, people were telling me about their kid who was potty trained at 18 months...as if it was some sort of competition or race or you got a super bowl ring if your kid was a potty genius, not that anyone in his college class will know if he was independent at 2 years or 6.  He's been out of diapers since his third birthday, except at night.  Last night was his first night without pull-ups and he did great.  Was it that we were bad parents?  Is he some sort of an ignoramus?

No, he just wasn't ready.  He sleeps hard.  He once fell out of bed and kept on snoozing.  He'd never wake up to go potty, he'd just sleep right on through it.  He's finally waking up to go potty.  Interestingly, this afflicts about 20% of kids in this age range in one form or another, but you NEVER hear anyone talking about it.  Some don't have the neuronal maturity required, some are just hard sleepers, or whatever, but it is normal and it is okay.  We could have gotten him up at midnight to go potty, which really wouldn't have accomplished anything except disrupt all our sleep.  Instead, we just gave him time, and it worked.  No stress, no pressure, just patience and gentle encouragement.  And when he was ready, he was ready.

We are all in a hurry in this culture, so much so that we miss out on so much, suffer so much unnecessary stress and pressure, and really don't enjoy life, even when we do succeed because we're so concerned about what's next.  What are you pressuring yourself or your kids to do that really doesn't matter?  When was the last time you actually just lived, instead of forcing things to a hasty conclusion?  Slow down, enjoy it, life is fleeting enough without us hastening it along.

Cheesy pretzel bites

For years I have been trying to perfect the 'melty cheese inside soft, garlicky bread' that somehow restaurants and food manufacturers have been able to produce in their stuffed pizza crusts and cheese filled breadsticks.  Even Pinterest is replete with ideas, but alas, no matter what I do, mine always explode in the oven and all that awesome cheese oozes out.  I tried something new the other day and the results were not only tasty (and excellently cheesy) but also rather pretty.  A little putzy, but well worth the effort and with minimal mess.  You will need:

Bread dough (I used my bread machine with a basic white recipe, but you can use whatever technique/recipe you prefer, including store bought or frozen, amount depends on how much you want to make, they freeze and reheat well so you might as well make a bunch).

Cheese (something with a nice flavor that melts well is preferable, mozzarella is a little bland but melts nicely, I also used a bacon/processed cheddar that was really good).

Vegetable oil and seasonings (garlic, celery salt, basil, parmesan cheese) for brushing on top.

2 quarts of water with 1/4 cup baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) dissolved in it.

Bring the water to a boil on the stovetop.  Divide the dough into 1 inch balls (large marble size) and cut cheese into bite size cubes.  Flatten each dough ball with fingers into a circle and place a piece of cheese in the center.  Mold dough around cheese until completely covered, pinching seams and leaving no holes, cracks, or other openings.  Place dough balls in boiling water and remove with a slotted spoon once they float, allow to drain briefly on a towel before placing on a cookie sheet.  Mix oil and preferred seasoning and brush over dough balls.  Bake in a 375 degree oven until golden brown and puffy.  Enjoy with your favorite dipping sauce.