The secret to a happy home

Have you ever noticed your home has an attitude, an ambiance, a feeling peculiar to itself?  It does, if you take the time to notice.  What does it say to those entering your door, to the inmates thereof?  What do you want it to say?  I grew up surrounded by dread and fear, disappointment, shame, anger, and despair; I hated going home, no one ever left the light on for me.  I had roommates, not a family.  But that is not what yours (or mine) has to be.

Yes, the decor and design have some effect, but any domicile be it hut or mansion, can be 'homey' with the right inhabitants and a little creativity.  It is not so much the stuff as the people, what is their attitude towards life, themselves, and others?  The ambiance of your surroundings can certainly influence your mood, reinforcing or soothing what is already there, but it is also your attitude that sets the mood of the home.  You can certainly brighten up a room with natural light or a bright paint color or a cheery print, but it is the heart of the dwellers that ultimately determines the ambiance of a home.

Have you ever just walked into a room and could literally, ''cut the tension with a knife," that is what I am talking about.  Is it a place of peace and joy, haven and rest, or is it chaotic or stressful or depressing or angry?  If it is the latter, new paint won't do much, it would be wiser to start by remodeling your heart.  If the principle dwellers in your house are angry or bitter or depressed in how they look at life, it will translate into the ambiance of the home.  So before you buy new drapes in hopes of brightening things up a bit, maybe pull back the shades of your heart and see how deep the dust is piled, it might be time for a little spring cleaning therein.  A happy home is very possible, but it all starts on the inside.

Refugee from civilization

I had a friend who received (and was charged for) a double order of diapers from the Red Big Box store, as her kids were about out of that size, she didn't need that many diapers.  She called the store and they said to just drop them off for a refund.  We live three hours from the nearest store of that sort, which obviously made that idea a little tricky.  When I tell people where we live, they wonder how we live at all.  I just spent the first part of the week in a major metro area with my husband at a conference, while he went to business meetings I got to shop.  It was a somewhat harrowing experience, and I likewise begin to wonder how these people live!

We don't have 24/7 shopping, but neither do I feel alone and isolated amidst a sea of strangers.  I was reminded very much of graduate school, which I accomplished in a major metro area, thankfully I was so busy with school I had little time to be lonely.  It is strange that you can be so alone among so many and so connected among so few.  I suppose it is that we can't get lost in a sea of stranger out here, outcasts from civilization as we are, your neighbors may be nosy and annoying, but they are also there when your world falls apart.  Whereas in the city, you could vanish and none would be the wiser or care if they were.

Spring, by mail!

I have a mid-winter birthday, so just as the festive Christmas joy is dying down and we have nothing to brighten the long, cold, dark days of winter while we await the all too slow advent of Spring, I get to get older too.  But I think I found the perfect present: Spring by mail.  I spent a good three weeks thumbing through the seed and nursery catalogs that start coming in February (sort of like Christmas sales in October!), which in itself banished the winter doldrums and gave me something to ponder and plan and wonder at.  Then I ordered my selections and could wait with anticipation, at least until I forgot about it, as they won't ship their plants to the tundra until April.

Well, it is April and I got a package the other day, completely flummoxed as to what it might be.  It was the first of my plant shipment, so I got to dig and plant a bit six weeks before I can do much of anything outside yet.  I can't wait for the rest to come, it is as close as you can get to Spring in a Box, and it is quite a nice be late birthday present.

Home at last

I thought I had it, my whole life growing up, but it was a lie, a mirage, a figment of my own imagining. Then I went to college and grad school and thought maybe then I had found it, but not so much.  Then I got married and had a career and still it was lacking.  Then we became parents, perhaps then?  Nope.  I had many places where I have lived, many a house as it were, but never a home.

Your physical circumstances, life stage, and relative amount of success and fortune have very little to do with the concept home.  Yes, you can have a very nice house, but it is still just a house, not a home, unless it abounds with life and laughter and love, whereas you can shack up in a cave or a condo or a tent and be completely at home.  Are you accepted and welcome?  Is there love there?  Is there peace and joy and hope?  Can you have fun or be quiet or cry or dance when you feel like it?  Can you be yourself?  Can you always go back?  Are you safe?  That is home, it has nothing to do with the quality or lack of walls about you.

My problem was I grew up with abuse and neglect and was taught that no one could ever love me, that I wasn't worth loving, that I deserved to be treated like dirt, therefore I could never find a home, at least until those destructive and dangerous lies were dealt with.  What is it in your own life that keeps you from coming home?  A destructive relationship?  Believing lies about yourself or others?  Focusing on things that don't really matter (career, social status, power, money…)?  Waiting for the 'right' circumstances (a romantic partner, kids, a house in the country, the perfect job…)?  It wasn't easy, but coming home was the best thing I ever did.  You won't be disappointed and you don't have to wait, the road might be long, difficult, and painful, but the light will be on when you finally get there!

On Musical Geniuses

I am not a musical genius, I spent 8 years in band and still put 5 beats in 4.  I had a whole year of piano when I was 12 (my sister was getting stickers for learning her songs and I wanted stickers too, an excellent reason to play the piano!).  If I know the song I can probably plunk out the treble cleft but the bass cleft is still a mystery, sort of like organic chemistry, and don't even think about having me play something I've never heard before because it will certainly sound like something you've never heard before.  In this I can truly say my left hand has no idea what my right is doing!

So one day I was sitting here staring at our Mac, wondering what all those strange little icons were (I grew up with a PC) and hit something that might have been a guitar.  Up pops a dude who wants to teach you chording on the guitar and piano.  I know nothing of guitars (for which most ears are grateful) but we inherited a piano with the house with which I have been dabbling.  There probably is a book called 'Piano for Dummies' but as usual, I had to go and figure it out the hard way, but I have decided there is hope for me, at least in a musical sense.  I still need to know the song before playing it, but I can actually produce something like music and use both hands in the process.

Dear Grandparents

Dear Grandparents,

This is an open letter from a parent to the grandparents of America.  I will begin by acknowledging that there is a strange and wonderful bond between you and your grandkids, and I would not dare encroach thereupon, but I fear American culture has twisted the role of modern grandparents into something which we parents oftentimes fear, and reasonably so.  While it is your job to have fun with, take joy in, and occasionally indulge said grandchildren, it must be done in such a way that will not bring misery and harm to the objects of your love.  In other words, you must not indulge your own selfish desires at the expense of your grandchild's mental and emotional wellbeing by undermining either their parents' authority or characters.  By all means, spoil the little buggers, but not in a way that they will suffer from when they return home.

• It is not your place to question or undermine the way I raise my kids (unless it is truly abusive) in front of them or worse, tell them directly that the way mommy does such and such is wrong or bad, etc., if you must confront me about it, do so privately and respect my opinion on the subject, you had your chance to parent, this is mine.
• Do not reinforce behavior that is generally not allowed at home (tantrums, screaming, whining, incessant demands for something, overt disobedience or disrespect) by either indulging it, rewarding them for the behavior by giving them a treat to shut them up, or laughing at it and saying fondly, 'kids will be kids.'
• The rules are the rules, even at grandma's house.  Kids thrive on regularity and predictability.  Staying up way past bedtime, skipping naps, neglecting usual daily expectations (putting on his own shoes or picking up her toys), too many treats, too much excitement (the zoo, the pool, the park, and a trip to the ice cream parlor all in one day), excessive praise for things that usually are not a big deal (taking a bite of food), and too much attention (in their face every minute, afraid you are going to miss something) can all lead to frustration, confusion, and a sense of being completely overwhelmed in their little brains, especially when they come home and things are so routine and mundane and the expectations are the same, but there is no grandpa to aid and abet in shirking the rules.
• Your job is not to fill them up on sugar, caffeine, excitement, and then send them home to let the parents deal with the consequences, because it is not just the parents that suffer for it.  It is not easy for your grandchild to readjust to normal life, they literally go through a withdrawal and readjustment period, and it is painful for all involved, most especially the confused and frustrated child.  You don't give them addictive drugs for obvious reasons, but to a kid, too little discipline and too much fun and treats is just as dangerous.
• Do not take out your frustration with any persons in their lives via the grandchildren with comments such as 'your father is so stupid,' or 'your mother's boyfriend is a real loser.'  If you must, confront the adults themselves and leave the kids out of it.  You will only confuse and traumatize them and undermine their respect for you and the other people in their lives.
• Never compare one child to another (even one that is grown up) or treat one child or set of children better than another; you'll only crush their souls.
• Try and listen when we come to you with suggestions or concerns, we are not attacking you but want what is best for everybody.
• Your first and foremost responsibility is to help these kids grow into happy, healthy adults and all your thoughts, words, and actions should be directed towards that goal rather than to indulge your own amusement in the short term.
• Let the child be himself, don't force your interests and agenda onto his shoulders.  If he doesn't like baseball, that's okay, maybe you could learn a little bit about Star Wars or anime so you could at least speak the same language.
• Becoming a grandparent does not absolve you of all responsibility in helping raise these dear children to be well-adjusted adults, and in this world of broken families and dysfunctional relationships, you might just be the difference between a broken life and success for that child.  It is a vital and heavy responsibility, but one for which life has well prepared you.
• And remember, we are on the same team here: we love these kids more than anything, and we are your kids too, and love you likewise.  This isn't a competition, we aren't vying against one another for their love but rather working together for their ultimate good, from which everybody inevitably benefits.

Sincerely,

A Mom.

Teriyaki Chicken for the Crock Pot

I've used this simple sauce as a marinade and on the stove top before but never in the crock pot, it came out absolutely fabulous.  Serve with rice or noodles.  I used chicken legs but you can probably use any chicken or even pork, etc.

 For 56 ounces of chicken legs (or whatever):

In a large crock pot mix together:

1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup vinegar
1.5 tsp garlic powder
celery salt and black pepper to taste

Add chicken legs and coat with marinade.  Cook on low for 6 hours.  Use the resulting liquid to flavor rice or noodles as a side dish.  That's it!