…. In which the wailing and gnashing of teeth continues …

LightGirl, “We are going to suffer from malnutrition and STARVE.”

LightHusband, “No … we have a house full of food and we need to eat it.”

LightBoy, “No. we. don’t.” (impeccable logic there)

LightBoy, “I don’t understand why we have to do the inventory and this pantry thing. Nobody ever tells me anything.”

LightHusband, “Mom read about this on her computer and we thought it would be a good idea.”

LightGirl, “Mom spends waayyy too much time on her computer. She’s going to kill us.”

There was more … but those are the salient points. 😉

We’ve made this into a homeschooling project. Once the inventory is complete, the LightChildren are going to learn about the wonders of spreadsheets and inventory control. How many calories do we need for a day? For a meal? Do we have them available? Little do they know the fun that awaits them … thus cackleth the evil mommy who spreadeth the household labor far and wide so that she mayeth sit like a queen (at least according to LightGirl).

We’ve apparently been keeping our friend, the Schwan’s man, in business. No wonder he likes us so much. There are far too many unopened Schwans boxes in our freezer. Lots and lots of salt marinated convenience food. Three bags, I’m told, of apple-something orzo. Nice.

I’ve been noticing some funny thoughts that wander through my head when I least expect it. Things such as “Well … we can live off of pancakes for quite a while.” or “No one’s holding a gun to my head, I can drop out at any time.” or “Why am I suddenly so focused on food anyway? We have plenty right now. Except onions … we don’t have enough onions.” But last night we wanted to make a favorite chicken dish. Only we were missing a key ingredient (cream of mushroom soup) that we thought we had. So we had to can that idea. It’s a wholesale, abrupt change in the way we usually think about meals. Instead of thinking, “Hmmm what do I feel like having for dinner?” It’s, “What do we have and what will that make that I can live with?”

Interesting … very interesting.

… or how I tortured the LightChildren and won the day 😉

Here’s how our first day of the Pantry Challenge 2007 went It was an average day … breakfast was regular (cereal all around … LightHusband decided to try Ezekiel 4:9 cereal last week. His review: “gravel with milk”). Lunch was a variety of frozen things that we’ve gathered over the past couple of weeks. Dinner … wow. Dinner was a buffet of appetizers … spinach-artichoke bowls, chicken nuggets, cream cheese jalapeno peppers, and french fries. BOO-YAH! Healthy living here we come.

Day 2 –

LightHusband and Children eat cereal for breakfast. LightHusband realizes that we can make bread because we have yeast in the cupboard and chortles with glee. Why o why can I not get him to understand that this is NOT about winning it’s about being creative.

I forgot to eat breakfast. This is not unusual. Then I remembered that I’m meeting a friend to workout at lunchtime. So I grab 2 eggs and toast at 11:30.

LightChildren ate lunch while I was working out. Not sure what they did. LightHusband was at a business meeting. Does this count?

As of this writing LightChildren have been given the mission to inventory our pantry and freezers. They are resistant to this. In fact, they are doing this only because their only other choice was to clean their rooms. Heaven forfend. They’re going to clean their rooms when they’re done.

Dinner tonight will be based upon the inventory.

More later …

… for

1. Houseguests (this week it’s CityMouse)

2. New spectacles

3. Friends who listen when I whine

4. A backyard trampoline

5. A new job for H. that she loves

6. The color yellow

7. bright pink cheeks and sparkly eyes

8. Stories

9. Quiet

10. My mural

Many of you who know us in the brick and mortar world, know that yesterday (the infamous New Years Day) was/is LightGirl’s birthday. Yesterday she turned 13. It seems impossible that it was a whole 13 years ago that she was born. But it is. As you all now know her LightHusbandGrandparents are visiting.

When the visit was being planned and we asked about her birthday we discussed birthday day plans with her. She tends to be rather, um, focussed on hockey. She discovered that there was a home game scheduled for New Years Day and she would very much like to take her grandparents to the game. It was against the team that Wayne Gretsky coaches so she was also hoping for a glimpse of the Great One.

Tickets were exhorbitant. So we squashed that plan.

Then LightHusband was out and about Christmas shopping during the week before Christmas. He happened to be in line behind a tall man wearing a Capitals jersey with the name “Zubrus” on it. They struck up a conversation and after talking for a while, LightHusband felt comfortable asking him if he were “the” Zubrus. Number 9. The second of LightGirl’s heros. Dainius Zubrus. LightHusband was trolling for an autograph. His reply, “I am de Zubrus brother.” Lighthusband told him of LightGirl’s desires. As they talked, LightHusband discovered that the brother is the Sales Manager for the Washington Capitals. They just so happened to be in line at the Apple Store where computers are “on-line.” So after each had made their purchases, Mr. Andrius Zubrus and LightHusband hunkered over one and he found us some seats.

Six rows back … where we could count the hairs on Olie (the goalie) Kolzig’s head.

We could see the faces of all the players as they crashed and banged into the boards. Their ability to concentrate on that puck and still be aware of the location of each and every other team mate is amazing. Almost feral.

LightGirl was enthralled with every … single … moment. She had the time of her life. Sometime next week she’ll float back down to earth. But for right now she’s dreaming big dreams and daring to hope the hopes of a 13 year old girl. And I am very glad to be her “hockey mom.”

The LightHusband’s parents are visiting. Very often these visits are fraught with tension and ill-will. This visit has been quite pleasant thus far … filled with laughter and camaraderie. Perhaps it is because I no longer care what they think of me that I am now free to think of them.

In any case, with their visit comes additional television viewing. We rarely watch television. Mostly in the evening after the LightChildren have gone to bed. We watch during the day on very rare occasions … when someone in the house is too sick to do anything else. Or when GrandpaLightHusband is visiting. He loves to watch tv. Correction. He loves to walk into a room. Turn on the television. Watch it for a few seconds. Then leave the room … with the television still on. He may or may not return to the room. So when they visit the television is on … all. the. time. He also likes to watch sports. If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time you may have come to some conclusions about me. I’ll bet it will come as little surprise to anyone that sports is quite low on my list of television watching priorities. I especially do not care to watch it or have it on in the house at very loud decibels. This is usually a trial for me. I very quickly reach a place of sensory overload when there are a lot of people in the house and a lot of noise. So … yeah.

This morning GrandpaLightHusband came in from their RV and promptly … turned on the television.  Well, Sunday morning programming is not so terrible.  We watched CBS’s Sunday Morning program.  They gave us the trifecta of funerals; President Ford’s, James Brown’s and Sadaam Hussein’s.  There was a portion of the program devoted to all the famous people who died in 2006.  I could hear echos of the morbid scene from “The Holy Grail” …. “Bring out your dead… bring out your dead ….” There are many different perspectives to give a year just finished.  This seemed odd to me.

Apparently it was fitting to LightGirl.  We went walking in the Battlefield with the grandparents and a friend.  Later on as I was putting dinner together she came in and said, “Well, 2006 wasn’t a really great year, was it Mom?”  I asked her why she felt that way.  She responded, “It was the year Will died.”  My first response (which I never got to make) was that it was also the year that he was born too.  But GrandmaLightHusband wanted to know who he was and why he was so important to LightGirl.  So we explained his story to her.  She responded by telling us a story of a little boy in her church who is 11 with hypo-plastic left heart, “and he’s doing quite well.”  And suddenly I was so overcome with rage, I felt my knees buckle.  I felt myself step outside of me and observe what was happening.  I knew better than to speak, so I just nodded and listened.  I wasn’t angry with my mother-in-law.  I’m still not sure why or who I was angry with.

I’m just so god-damn sick of useless, pointless death.

LightGirl just finished Goalie Camp for her Christmas vacation. It’s all she wanted. Goalie equipment and camp. So that’s what she got … used equipment and four days with HeadCoach and several other potential goalies (including JustOneFriend), her good friend Monkey from her team was there too, to shoot pucks at the goalies-in-training and of course some counselors. One was a young man, CounselorGuy, who we heard many stories about each day (LightGirl insists that he is very, very cute! Her father and I are reserving judgement). Here are a series of photos wherein LightGirl is cross-checking CounselorGuy and knocking him down.

He’s down:

We’re back in black …

… do not mess with the two baddest girls in black!

My Christmas giving was scarred for life by an experience in my teen years. Brother1 and I went in together to get Brother2 a pocket knife. Brother2 was about 11 at the time. For those of you who know LightBoy, they share many characteristics. All the good ones. Brother1 and I were fairly unwitting in our choice of gift. We knew it was desired, but we were unaware of the depth of desire. All I can remember of the moment of unveiling is Brother2 sitting on our old rickety sofa, with the Buck Knife cradled in his 2 hands as if it were the Hope Diamond, repeating over and over,

“Buck.”

“Knife.”

“OHhhhhhh”

There just aren’t many gifts in one’s life that can match that. I’ve given up trying. Sort of. There’s a little piece of me that wants to achieve it each year, but I’ve finally realized that it is indeed fruitless to attempt it.

I came close this year. I gave LightHusband a lens for his camera that he’s been joking about for quite some time. Only apparently it wasn’t a joke. So here are two of the many photos he’s taken with it since he took it out of the box. He has not yet sent me my favorite … maybe I’ll post it later this evening.

Here is LightGirl in a moment of rest after she opened her goalie gear. She then wore said gear for the remainder of the opening. It was amusing to open gifts with a sta-puf marshmallow girl. 😉

Here is a rooster that hangs in one of my kitchen windows. Isn’t he colorful? He was supposed to go to my mother. Sorry LightMom. But I liked him too much after I got him. So he stayed here. The LightQueenMother got lighted knitting needles instead.

I’m sitting in a hockey rink even as I type this.  LightGirl has just finished part one of her weekly private lesson with HeadCoach at the rink.  She is now skating in a rink full of boys.  Some of them are quite large.  Most of them are very good.  One of them just skated by with his five o’clock shadow glistening at me.  Well … now.  My little girl is skating amongst large young men.  She is looking just the tiniest bit overwhelmed and undone by it all.  She wants to get in their game.  I suspect they’d make room for her.  But she doesn’t know the code yet.

It’s one of the things I’m enjoying most about hockey.  It’s a very egalitarian sport.  There’s very little crying out, “You skate like a girl!”  Yes, the boys do play harder and more aggressively than the girls.  But the girls are simply feted for playing.  They are embraced for being out on the ice and welcomed.  Hockey is such a tiny little sport that everyone who plays is looked on as a compatriot because of the love of the game.  The boys don’t appear to be threatened by the girls.  Instead they join them on the ice.  I guess they figure, the more  the better.

Hmmm … I wonder when the church will get that mentality.

Over the years the tone of inquiry around Christmas gifting has certainly changed:

Hello LightLady,

This past spring I gathered the materials to build an item out of LightBoy’s “Back Yard Ballistics” Book. I thought I would put it together and send it down as our gift to him. However after thinking about it, I thought I would check with you and LightHusband first. It is a potato gun, and will shoot a potato a considerable distance. Shall I proceed with the weaponry or not?

LightUncle the Younger

I informed my brother that he was welcome to proceed with the weaponry. Christmas day will indeed be interesting here at the LightHouse!

In a shocking reversal of past Christmas tree purchasing fiascos, the LightFamily descended upon the Christmas tree stand of choice, found a tree, agreed upon said tree, and purchased it … all within ten minutes. I nearly fainted.

The process usually involves close inspection of every tree on the lot.

Twice.

Then we settle on a tree.  There is usually some “discussion” involved.  Some compromise.  More talk about where the tree will be located in the house.  Derisive commentary about various trees and their likeness to the tree on Charlie Brown many years ago.  Then commentary about the abilities of certain adults to select trees based upon their childhood experiences.  By this time the LightChildren have gotten in on the act and all are laughing and making fun of one another and the various trees that are being championed.  We do tend to make fools of ourselves at the tree lot.  Somehow the angel never sits quite right on top, no matter how hard we try.  But that always seems to be part of the charm.

Part of the problem is that all of the trees are too pretty for me.  I’ve finally come to accept that.  I’ve even begun to embrace it.  While LightHusband and Children are looking for beautiful, I’m looking for crumbly.  While they are looking for straight, I’m looking for crooked.  They search out full, I’m fond of sparse.  I’m still searching for the Christmas trees of my youth.

My brothers and I used to tromp out in our woods … all 27 acres of them … and find a tree.  We’d walk around craning our necks to see the tops of 30 foot pines and try to find the tree with the best top six or so feet … from the ground.  I don’t remember a time when we were successful.  The trees from my youth looked like coat hangers with needles.  I’m pretty sure that the Charlie Brown tree was fuller than our trees.

I loved those trees.  The trees we get now are beautiful.  But it always feels as though we are cheating somehow.  There’s no work involved.  It’s much too easy.  Clean.  Tidy.  Low.  The trees are too pretty and when we get them home, the branches are too dense to decorate.

Tonight though, I think we found one just right.  It’s not too straight.  Not too dense.  Not too beautiful.  We’ll have to wait til tomorrow to get it into the house to see.