CurrentMom

On the Road Again

Truth Thursday

I am preparing for a particularly long work trip –15 days away – and will be leaving in less than a week. And before I get any heckling about enjoying what should be a wonderful trip – after all, I will be in Israel and then am taking two days in Paris by myself on the way back (and I don’t have to cook dinner or wash dishes or clothes for that same period of time) – I want reassure you all that I will, indeed, be working while I am away.

And even though I will be working thousands of miles away from home, I still have to be the puppeteer for my family’s active lives while I am gone. Or at least spend the better part of two weeks preparing for my absence.

There is no question that it is easier to be away with older children. There are no real worries about child care – at the ages of 16, 12 and 10, they can be alone in the house by themselves after school for a couple of hours every day. I don’t have to worry about the babysitter not making it, or childcare falling through. And I know that there are many neighbors up and down our block who will be available in the event of an emergency.

And for the most part, my children’s lives revolve around their schools and school friends, all of which are reachable by foot or school bus. Only one carpool to worry about, to Hebrew school ten minutes away, and that one is already covered. Basketball practice will be easily managed, despite having two practices on the same night at the same time … at different gyms. That is the beauty of being on local teams with neighbors and friends.

So why am I feeling such stress?

Just Like Mom Used to Make -- The Benefit of Baking Mixes and Easy One Dish Chili Dinner

 

Meal Monday

Let me begin by saying my mother is an excellent cook. And her mother was an excellent baker. But one key lesson I learned from them and from my own experience is that sometimes, a mix is better than scratch.  We already know that using prepared foods can save lots of time. I do think that in cooking, for the most part, making it yourself is almost always better -- though I have no problem with "homemade" being essentially an assemblage of store-bought ingredients. 

But when some guilt-inducing commercial comes on and waxes rhapsodic about something (usually cookies or pie or cake) that tastes just like "mom used to make," I have to laugh. My mother, for all her gourmet meals, always stocked cake mixes, brownie mixes and cans of frosting. And she came by that habit rightly. 

One afternoon, about 25 years ago, my cousin and I set aside several hours to spend time with my grandmother to learn how she made such delicious matzo balls. We were just learning how to cook and we were very excited about the tradition we'd be carrying on once we learned what went into this time-honored recipe. We put on our aprons, washed our hands and looked at her expectantly as we stood in her warm kitchen. 

"Okay," Nana said, "first, you pour the box of Manishewitz mix into the bowl." My cousin and I burst out laughing. Really? This was it? No big secret? How disappointing, and yet so liberating. The Great Matzo Ball Lesson took all of ten minutes. And the product was delicious. And I think of Nana every time I dump the matzo ball mix into the bowl. 

Shortly after my husband and I got married, and I was still looking for a job (read: had lots of extra time), I decided to make brownies. From scratch. Because of course, they'd be more authentic and better than brownies from a mix. The recipe was reasonably labor-intensive and involved a double boiler and a considerable amount of standing and stirring. I thought they were quite good, but the deflating comment from the Husband was "these are okay, but I like the ones from a mix better."

There you have it. Sometimes, not only does a mix save time and probably money, but the result is actually better. I say this for certain items only (see my pantry staples above). I mean, who would ever make fruit flavored gelatin dessert from scratch? Maybe someone, but not here. My 11-year-old son is quite the expert Jello maker. 

Finding the Dragon Within on Chinese New Year

Truth Tuesday

Growing up a mixed-race child in lily-white upstate New York, I wanted nothing more than to blend in with my peers. If people asked, "what are you?" I would claim, "I'm just like you!" This despite the Chinese mother by my side and my own clearly Asian hair, eyes and skin. I celebrated Chinese New Year with my family, of course -- who could resist sweet pastries, brown sugar cake and red packets stuffed with money -- but never shared any of these traditions with friends at school.

At the same time, I followed the model minority path of good grades, musical prowess, and adherence to most school and parental rules. I genuinely thought of myself as a meek and obedient girl who would never make waves in life. An introvert.

How things change. 

Since becoming a mother eight years ago and an independent journalist three years ago -- courtesy of a somewhat anticipated layoff -- I have found my voice with a vengeance. And the process began earlier, of course, with every career success or personal triumph that built my self-esteem little by little. But somehow, having children for whom to set an example and a family to feed give me the motivation to speak my mind and the confidence to know that my thoughts are worth sharing.

In particular, I've started speaking up about work-life balance and workplace flexibility. For the last decade, I've covered workplace issues as a journalist. My intense focus on this subject has hammered home my belief that work gives life meaning -- but it can also drain life of joy without healthy boundaries. 

The Tech Generation is Here

Tech Tuesday

My six-year-old daughter is a zookeeper. She's got all sorts of animals in her zoo, from the standard tigers and bears to the more exotic peppermint striped zebra.

Hers is a Tiny Zoo – one of the many free apps down-loadable on the iPhone.

When I first let her start using our iTouch at the age of four, I felt a little weird. After all, it's not like I had anything like this when I was her age. The most sophisticated pieces of technology in our house back then were the phone and the television and I wasn't allowed to use either of those by myself.

It wasn't a safety issue, either. Fear for her safety if she broke it perhaps, but how could she hurt herself with a slim little device? I felt weird because I, like so many other parents my age, are entering a realm unfamiliar to us: kids with technology.

I Vant To Be Alone

Truth Thursday

Last week I was cleaning up some piles of old books in the attic. Among them was a sweet book I had bought for my kids a few years back. It’s called “Five Minutes Peace,” and it’s all about a mama elephant who just wants … you guessed it … five minutes peace. Her three young children show up everywhere – when she’s on the phone, when she’s making toast for breakfast, in her bath. 

Anyone with children can relate. And of course, the runaway best seller among parents of small children in 2011 was “Go the F—k to Sleep,” which, while I’m not sure I would actually have chosen to state it so publicly, is a sentiment to which I definitely adhere (and anyone who read my “Potty Mouth Mama” blog knows that I don’t even really object to the profanity.) Those quiet nighttime moments, after small children are finally asleep, are a parents’ sanity savior. 

As my children get older, they are no longer appendages of my body, accompanying me wherever I go. I remember feeling like I wanted to scream when I would take a shower in the morning when they were younger, and sure enough, as soon as I stepped into what I hoped would be five minutes of child-free, hot water bliss, someone would inevitably knock on the door, needing something important like scotch tape. Surely their father, calmly sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and oblivious to the dire calamity of tape necessity, could help them? 

Nope. It had to be mom.