What We Already Are

When I became a mother for the first time, no one said to me, "Hey, that's nice, but you are not a mother yet, maybe someday." No, I was a mother because I was doing it.

Today I was reflecting on something that I noticed with the amazing group of women that surround and support me and how they treat my daughter, who is often with me when I see them. They take her seriously as an artist. She won't someday be an artist maybe. She IS. She is because she is doing it. She is because she loves it. She is because it makes her happy and she cannot imagine a life without making art. She is 9 and she doesn't have to wait to grow up  to be something. She is.

Holly is a dancer. She works hard to learn more and practise her skills, but she goes to the studio, trains, and at the end of the year will perform on stage. She doesn't have to wait to think she will someday be something. She IS. She is 5.

Isaac? He loves trains and toys and running and painting. Right now he is loving just being with us and doing what we do. Soon enough he will share with us what he loves and we will nurture it. 

Nurturing a child is the critical point here. If we tell them, That's nice, but it doesn't mean anything significant. Move along. How will they ever really believe that they could ever be anything? I suffer that now, not sure if I can call myself a writer or a poet even though I do both and have even been published! Maybe it is because I don't really feel all grown up and so much importance was placed on being grown up before one could really be anything at all.

Holly wants to be a pilot too and a construction worker. She already builds things. She LOVES aircraft of all kind. You will never catch me doubting what any of my children are capable of. Not ever. Watch them fly!

The kids are also farmers, right by our side doing work that they love, hard work. They earn the credit for this work that most just dismiss the value of because of their age alone. That is so problematic. Children can and want to do meaningful work and my children do.

I will continue to be their biggest fan, encourage them to dream and see possibilities with every turn. I will carefully tend their imagination and help turn their dreams into reality. That is how we homeschool and how we parent. It goes beyond that though, it doesn't stop at my children. More and more, I have found myself cheering on and encouraging others, children and adults, to believe in their own possibilities. Who says that it is too late? Seriously? Who? If you want to do it, give it a try. Progress measured in inches is still progress.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Can you take the step and call yourself that now?

Dirty Wild Rice Dressing

Recipe for Dirty Rice Dressing

2 cups of wild rice

6 cups of broth (I like lamb or chicken, either works)

1 cup of water

1/2 cup of butter (1 stick)

1 lb of ground sausage (I used Traditional Bratworst, but I also like Green Onion in this recipe)

1 celery stick diced

1 onion diced

1 red bell pepper diced 

This is what was in the seasoning packet that our customers purchased at Prairieland Herbs:
3 T of seasoning salt (Swamp Fire is what I used, slap yo' mama works too)

1 T of Alebepo pepper

1 T of dried shallot

1 bay leaf

Bring the broth and water to a boil. Add the seasoning packet/mix and stir. Add the wild rice and stir in. Let simmer on low until the water/broth level is at the top of the rice (this takes 40 minutes to an hour). Turn off the heat and cover. Let rest while browning the sausage in the butter. I know that seems like a lot of butter, but the recipe provides 12 cups of rice, trust me on the butter! 

When the sausage is browned and ready, add it to the rice. Then add the diced vegetables. You will be adding them raw. I like the crunch and texture they add to the mixture and they will cook in the heat of the rice. Some folks I know caramelize the onion with the meat, but it isn't needed. The veggies are also where you can play a little. Like carrots? Dice some up and add them. Shallots? Go for it. Mushrooms. Yum.

Since I usually make this for a large gathering or samples, I then move the mix to a crockpot and keep on low/warm while serving. The rice just gets better and better.

One more tip- more than one person commented at our sample event about the amount of broth in ratio to the rice. Wild rice is not the same as minute white rice. The extra broth really is needed. The mix we use is a combination of 6-7 different wild rices, but the flavour is AMAZING.

Thanksgiving Birthdays x3

Since Great Grandma lives so far away and shares a birthday month with Lily and Isaac, we waited to have the family party on Thanksgiving. So Holly wouldn't feel left out, she also got a new doll. Lily, in true fashion of Lilyness, stayed up late and got up early to complete 2 of the three kits she got as gifts. She'd have done the third today too, but Holly wants to do it with her and she went on an overnight trip to take Great Grandma home.

We had a calm and lovely holiday. As usual, I wasn't as social as I could have been, but I tried. There were no butter wars. No fighting. It was nice.

Do Not Feed The Bears

Do not. Do not feed the bears.

This is my final post before Thanksgiving hits. My thoughts on survival today are simple. DO NOT ENGAGE.

So tomorrow, as I venture out into the cold with my made from scratch pie that I know everyone will eat and if they don't I will have an awesome breakfast tomorrow.....I say to you, every family has its issues. You are not alone.

I grew up in a family that insulted and pranked each other like we had a laugh track and audience. Every situation called for snide remarks and clever comebacks, each more biting and hurtful and more hilarious than the one before. When you were not the target of humiliation, then you were a participant. I came up from that wanting kindness and peaceful grace to be the decor of my home, oh but Lastworditis is a lifelong affliction.  It takes everything I have not to speak out the cleverness that is just at the tip of my tongue when things get going. You see, I can be part of the problem. So it is with this in mind that I tell you, all of my experience behind this wisdom, DO NOT. As the old homeschoolers at a picnic adage goes, "Simply ask for the awesome bean dip recipe. When they insist on discussion, pretend you didn't hear them and rave over the quality of the beans and the sour cream and the flavour of the cheese. Eventually they will get the hint."

When your favourite Aunt starts criticising your parenting (even though she has no children of her own or has even ever lived with a child in her entire life), change the subject. Ask her about her last vacation or her apple pancake recipe.  Do not enter the honey trap of discussing attachment parenting or cloth diapers or..... just don't. Those topics may be near and dear to you and you may have 1000 things to say about the topics but just don't. For the love of your auntie, don't.

When your mother starts making offhand comments about your hair or your clothes, even suggesting a trip to salon as a Christmas gift and her comments make you feel ugly and gross? Breathe deep. Do not engage. Change the subject. Ask her about the holiday sales, maybe even ask to see pictures of her children in past years to get holiday photo ideas. CHANGE THE SUBJECT of something is hurting you. For the love of pumpkin pie do not tell her how you feel. Not at that moment.

When your husband's cousin starts talking about gun-man-ship and he's the last person you want with a concealed carry? Lady, nothing you can say will make things turn out well. Just leave the room at let whatever is happening in there be.  Seriously. Where's my pie spoon?

When your exact opposite of you sister starts in on sleep training or food stamps or make up and it all makes you want to vomit and wonder if you are a changeling or an abandoned alien because how on earth could you be related to such a freaking clueless diva? Yeah. Your emotions are getting the better of your good sense and your sister is a person too with feelings even, maybe.  Do not tell her anything that is on your mind. The holidays bring out the worst in people. Every single person.  You are not exempt.

When another relative tells you xyz is a sign that God is punishing you for abc? Sigh deeply and ask them about their local church and what kinds of outreach they do. Change the topic to something less personal.

When your relatives stare at the home cooked from food you grew in your own worm composted garden and then processed and or fermented by hand in your own kitchen and then refuse to even come within a 5 ft radius of the dish, let alone even cut into it and your feelings are hurt because you put three months of effort into making that JUST FOR THIS DAY? Seriously. Save it. Do not take it personally. DO NOT TAKE IT PERSONALLY. Food is such a personal and intimate subject and ingesting something into your body is a big deal. Not everyone is on the same nutritional journey or likes the same things. Forget being polite. Because if any of them are polite and then later get sick from cousin Randy's beer and tatertot casserole thing? They will blame your dish. They will. So, don't sweat it and save it for later when you can share it with folks who will care. Like me. Unless it has pickles. Lily will have my share then.

Or just stop at Dairy Queen and get an ice cream cake. Even the crunchiest hippie mamas eat those, though sometimes in secret. Shhhhh.

When one of your cousins sets the house on fire? (This has happened.) Don't freak out. Put the fire out and then laugh about it. Mock them about it for the next decade. That's probably fair game. Maybe. Right?

One of the things about my mother in law that I really admire is how she can take the tension out of a conversation at a holiday meal and change the subject. Sometimes with a self mocking joke, sometimes with a passing of the dish, or a question for someone else. She is the queen of clean transitions.  She's freaking brilliant at this. In the end no one really wants a holiday gathering to end with someone storming out mad with everyone else wondering if they will ever see them again. Sometimes you won't. Not ever.

So if you are having an anxiety attack about potential drama at your holiday gathering? Don't. Instead, be the person who transitions the conversation. When someone trolls for a fight, tell them That's interesting, I'll have to think about that. Even if you won't, it leaves them feeling validated and heard and in the end that's all any person at all wants.

Is there ever a time to step up and have your say? Sure. If there is a knife fight, someone is disorderly drunk, or if someone is violent with anyone's children or pets (including their own), or if your wheelchair bound grandmother lunges and crawls through the gravy bowl just to assault you and call you names. Then by all means, get in there, sleeves rolled up and have at it. Don't expect pie to still be served though. Though unless children and/or animals are involved, I would still just quietly get my keys and leave, maybe grabbing a pie for the road before anyone can dramatically storm after me.

And if it is all too much for you? Stay home. Seriously. This is just a Thursday. It doesn't have to be something that you are up all night the night before worrying about. Hello 2am! It takes two to drama. If one decides to eat pie instead, then drama goes elsewhere or just plain looks nuts. That's ok too.  Seriously, grown women do not have "enemies" no matter how important they think they are, they just don't. Unless, maybe, yeah, no. If you walk away from a cat fight and only one person is left there meowing and screeching while you eat pie? Meowser wins right? I don't care. Pie.

My southern friends say, "Bless your heart," when things get catty and heated on our support group board. Even though I know that this actually means, "Gah! What a stupid b!#@*!" it seems to soothe people and calm things down. Why? Because words actually are powerful, the words spoken are sweet and they can mean anything you like. Saying, "Bless her heart," is so comforting that it simmers down tempers. It also signals that someone is refusing to engage in the argument, that they are done, and done in a graceful way. That is so powerful.

Do not feed the bears. Do not engage in arguments that have no ending. Do not comment on strange political and possibly drunk ramblings of extended family. Do not get drawn in. Do gather recipes, laugh at genuinely funny things, dote on your favourite people, and be the one who brings peach, I mean peace, to the table. Be neutral, be happy, be sweet. Then eat all the pie and leave.

So that said, what is your favourite could have been a Griswold moment family memory? (See how I set the comments to anonymous? Have at it!