Category: Eating

Gobble Gobble

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Showing off Sarah's mac-n-cheese

We successfully hosted the first Thanksgiving in our new abode.  No injuries, no serious screaming and only one dish of slightly burnt food.  Even the diverse family members homogenized and got along great.  Most of the family consisted of Jon’s side: his mom, dad, three brothers, their wives and kids.  My mom and sis showed up to represent the Heile/Menkedick side.  Jon woke up at 6:45 am to start the turkeys with his brother who drove over from Hilliard at 7 am (we can’t have any meal without Patrick’s input – he is a master chef).  They grilled one turkey and smoked the other.  Maria woke up exclaiming “I can’t believe Thanksgiving is finally here!”  The day may have been better than Christmas for her – she loves having the family over and entertaining.  She proudly showed off her place mats that she slaved over for the three weeks prior to Thanksgiving day (Megan, her sitter, and I prodded her more than a few times but she did a first-rate job on them and everyone enjoyed having a handmade mat in front of them).  

My sis, Sarah, came over at 8 am in order for us to get in our Turkey Day run. We had contemplated running in the UA Turkey Race but decided that we may be pushing our luck trying to cook and run a race that started so late (9:15 am).  Besides, 5 miles is wimpy – we went for about 8.  We tore through the hills of Grandview and ran through donwtown back to our home.  Sarah’s dogs kept us at a clip of a pace – they are like Iditarod dogs running through the tundra – they never stop!  Little Sarah, all 95 pounds of her – held onto “the reins” the entire run.  When the pups spotted a squirrel, they darted and pulled so hard on Sarah that she had to buckle down into a squat position and yank them back with all of her might.  It is quite a sight to see this petite sister of mine take complete control of two dogs.  She may be under 100 pounds but she is mighty. 

A walk to the railroad tracks

When I arrived home, Maria and Mario were ready for everyone to arrive anxiously pacing around the house asking “how much longer?”  Finally, Alana and Giovanni arrived and the screaming and insanity began (relegated to the basement, which continues to be such a godsend!).  The kids had the basement destroyed in less than 15 minutes.  A good reason for me to take a break and walk them down to the woods.  I was getting antsy anyway because it was so gorgeous outside and I had been indoors preparing for the feast.  “Anyone want to take a walk?”  All of the kids jumped up and grabbed their shoes and coats.  We walked down the road to the railroad tracks that are hidden behind a row of trees and bushes off the road.  Is there any more fun than playing on the railroad tracks on a beautiful November day?  The boys threw rocks into the trees and the girls danced around on the wood slats (on the outside of the track!).  We thought we heard a train whistle at one point but it was merely wishful dreaming.  The kids’ eyes popped out at the thought of seeing a train whiz by.  Gio made me promise I would run back down with him if we heard the whistle at the house, and sure enough we heard it right when dinner was starting.  Next time, Gio.  Maria and Alana sang songs on the way back and Mario and Gio acted like “old men” by leaning on their sticks and hobbling up the hill. 

When we got home, Maria and Alana begged for me to keep the boys out of Maria’s room so they could play barbies in peace.  Mario refused to budge until I told him that the girls would beg to come to his room because of all of the cool toys he had so he better run in to it with Gio and keep those girls out.  Maria and Alana caught on to my plan quickly and started to beg to come in Mario’s room.  Mario and Gio slammed the door and refused to allow them in the room.  The plan worked.

Meanwhile, the adults got to chat downstairs without children nagging at their ankles.  Actually, I should clarify: Jon and I got to chat with out kids at our ankles.  Patrick and Carrie have Alana and Gio pretty well-trained and Jon’s other brothers’ kids are grown.  I was so bummed when I took the tablecloths out of the plastic and they were really wrinkled.  If you buy new tablecloths they should be wrinkle-free – that is what you are buying, too, isn’t it?  And what is the trick to getting those wrinkles out?  I spent 20 minutes with the iron on them and still didn’t make much of a dent.  But with the place mats and plates and silver on the table, you could barely tell.  I had bought orange gerber daisies and purple flowers at the market the day before and they bursted out in the dining room against the brown walls. 

Ready for seconds

We made enough food for a small army, as always.  Thirty pounds of turkey, regular and oyster stuffing, mashed potatoes, chipotle mac-n-cheese, rolls, creamed corn casserole, gravy, and fruit salad.  Sarah’s mac-n-cheese dishes were a nice touch and Patty’s creamed corn casserole is always to die for.  I had dreamed of all of the food being laid out on the tables, everyone sitting down, and a beautiful grace being said by me.  Maybe the dream will happen next year.  THere were too many dishes to put them out on the tables, and it would have been a form of torture to make the first people in line wait for the last since it took about 15 minutes for everyone to get through (you know how that is “Oh, what are these? How did you make them?  They look great!”  all the while holding up the line!).  Patty did give an impromptu grace while we stood in line giving thanks for family – those with us and those who have passed – and appreciating the day we had together.  It was short but beautiful.  Patty and I are a lot alike in our love for family connection and every hour or so that day we would knock elbows and smile happy with the way the day was going.   

Maria and Alana with their drawing "If It's Too Loud, You Are Too Old!"

Within twenty minutes of putting my plate down to eat, I had to unbutton my jeans and stretch my arms.  Always a true sign of a good meal.  Maria loved the creamed corn casserole and the turkey.  Mario liked nothing and opted for an oreo yogurt.  Jon loved the creamed corn casserole, too.  I loved everything – seriously, I can’t pick a favorite.  I love all of the side dishes mixed together with the turkey.  Heaven.  When Mario was finished, he asked to be excused instead of stating “I am done.”  The family was quite impressed, as was I!  He informed me later that the school teachers make him ask to be excused because it is a more polite way of saying “I am done.”  Thank god the school teaches him some manners!

After dinner, Maria and Alana acted like vampires pulling naive aunts and cousins upstairs to the attic to “take a bite” out of them.  Josh and I were one of the firsts who got a “bite” in the hand from the vampire girls.  They had a hoot with that game for a while.  Then they chased after Peter for quite some time – poor Peter, our 17 year-old cousin who was “one of the kids” for so long that now even though he is grown, he is the honorary playmate.  We really need to slip him some cash next holiday.

Getting ready for dessert and celebrating Patty's and Alana's b-days!

The desserts enticed even the most full of us.  Pumpkin, pecan, cherry and peanut butter/chocolate pies with whipped cream and vanilla ice cream.  With all of that, the kids played a game of who could spray the most whipped cream down their throats.  It took us nearly an hour and a half to wash dishes – definitely the most obnoxious activity that you have to perform after a big meal like Thanksgiving but at least it gets you on your feet.  Sarah ran over to get her pups when it got dark out and brought them back over for an early evening walk.  We had hoped for a relaxing, serene walk around the block but a mad dash of kids flew out the door and we spent the entire walk trying to ensure that they remained together and didn’t cross the street and held their voices down (yeah, right).  As rowdy as they are, I love seeing all of the cousins together having a good time.  The older ones take care of the younger ones and the younger ones love the attention. 

When we arrived home, we began the pack-up,stuffing leftovers into plastic bins and sliding pie slices onto paper plates.  I tried to get rid of all of it but somehow ended up with my favorites – pecan and cherry – sitting in the fridge.  How is it that one minute I can be stuffed silly and within an hour, I am ready for another slice of pie?  Life is cruel that way. When the last of the family members walked out the door, Maria looked at me with the saddest little face.  “I want Thanksgiving back.  Why do good days have to end?”  “I agree, Maria. But instead of being sad, we should be so grateful to have such a warm, loving, fun family.”  She still looked sad so I took her to the second step of our stairs and sat her down next to me. She leaned her head on me looking out the door.  I held the moment and told her that the second step was our resting place – a place that she could take me to talk about anything she wanted to talk to me about.  I imagined her at age 16 with all of the teenage woes a girl faces.  I told her that I want her to always feel she can tell me anything.  She looked at me and said “I know I can, mom.”  Please, Lord, let her continue to think that way.  

We swept up the remaining scraps from the dining room and living room but left the food that had been dug into the floors by random feet stepping on them.  Those would have to be wiped up on Black Friday; we were not heading out to the shopping mall so we had all day.  Of course, we chose to ignore all that mess one more day and head down to Cincy on Black Friday to visit our aunts and cousins.  A little procrastination never hurt anyone!

Maggie Goes on a Diet, Seriously?

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Is there really a book out there geared towards 6 year-olds going on a diet?  You betcha.  Why stop with women’s magazines that tout thin, blemish-free, flawless women or teen magazines that tout the same for young girls?  Might as well get 6 year-old girls into the mix so they can learn early what is beautiful in this society.  I could not believe my eyes when I saw the book Maggie Goes on a Diet.  A portly little girl standing in front of a mirror holding up a tiny pink dress and looking at it longingly. 

The author (male) justifies his book by stating “Maggie does want to look better. She does want to feel better and she does not want to be teased.” He argued that the book addressed “the issues that kids face today.”  But as the author of the article states, why couldn’t you show Maggie playing soccer or eating fruit versus staring at herself in the mirror while holding a size 0 pink dress in her arms?  By putting her at the mirror, you are reinforcing the notion that the reason to diet is to be able to fit in those size 0 dresses because it is only then that you are beautiful. 

This country has an obesity problem that needs to be controlled – no doubt.  Kids need to be more active and eat healthier foods.  But the reason for doing so is to be healthy so that you can run and jump and climb hills and not get diabetes.  Not to ensure that you look like the model on Cosmopolitan.  And the word diet has such a negative connotation for girls and women.  It denotes nothing related to health but rather everything related to body size and superficial beauty.  I can’t imagine a book like this being written by a woman. 

After having seen Maria go through the name-calling at her pre-school and Kindergarten, it saddens me to see this book in print.  I think there is a much better way to address being healthy.  I don’t know this author and he could have very well been trying to show how Maggie could feel better by eating better and exercising but he has a responsibility to think hard about how his words and images will be felt, especially by 6 year olds.  Maria could not understand why kids would call her “fat” or “big.”  It made her retreat from activities and feel self-conscious.  Those comments, thankfully, have stopped for the most part.  She would never talk that way about anyone else; she has learned from her experience.  She understands what it means to be healthy and why we don’t shovel food in our mouth – because when we do so we don’t feel good and its hard to move and we get tired….  We exercise in order to be able to keep in shape and move when we want to move and climb up mountains when we want to climb and ride our bike for miles when we want to do so.  

Maria is gorgeous and strong and happy, and we work hard to keep her on that path.  This book has no place on her shelf.

My baby girl turns 6

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Maria Grace turned 6 yesterday at 2:41 pm.  I still remember her birth like it happened this afternoon. I remember how nervous but excited I was to have her through natural childbirth, aka, no drugs.  Mom had me that way, Meg had Jackson that way.  I wanted to follow in their giant footsteps.  Actually, the thought of getting a needle as long as a pencil shot into my back and losing all sensation from the waist down terrified me 10 times as much as the thought of foregoing drugs.  

I got pretty cocky in the delivery room for a while after they broke my water.  The contractions were uncomfortable but tolerable.  I remember looking at my mom and Jon and bragging “this isn’t too bad.”  And within minutes after that brash declaration, the universe shifted in ways only a momma in childbirth can understand.  Excruciating pain.  Sharp wrenching cramps.  Uncontrollable urges to bear down with nurses chanting “do not push yet.” I kept thinking to myself “if I have to tolerate this for 30 minutes, I will die.”  Luckily, within fifteen minutes, the nurses told me I could lay down and start pushing.  I can only liken this to having a huge dresser laid on your pubic area; having someone remove it for a few seconds; and then throw it back on with a few more clothes and knick knacks in it.  I was relieved after hearing the nurses tell me to start pushing but only for a few seconds until I realized that the actual pushing was just as painful as the restraint from pushing.  And then to look up in the mirror on the ceiling and see that there really was a tiny human that was poking her “little” head out of my body.  Holy cr–! 

“Little” being the extremely relative word in this instance.  “Little” is what the head was an hour after birth when I had been stitched up and regained some of my senses.  “Little” is not what the head was when it was trying to poke through my body and see the outside world.  It was HUGE and OBNOXIOUS and CAUSING IMMENSE PAIN!  But the body is an amazing thing because as much as I hurt and wanted to stop pushing, I also pulsated with joy and anxiety in meeting my daughter who I had nourished and cared for the last nine months in her safe cocoon.  When I saw her head crowning, that joy drove me to push harder and harder until I heard the shrills of excitement from the bystanders announcing that a baby was on its way out! 

Maria, Alana and Mario rockin' it out on Ri's b-day!

 

And then she was bundled up in that hospital blanket and placed in my arms.  Jon stood by me looking down at us.  There she was with her dark eyes and her black hair and warm skin.  A little Maria Grace ready to dominate the world.  And 6 years later she is well on her way.  

Her style can be commanding “Uncle Jack, come stand HERE!”, or gentle “It’s ok, Baby Gracie, I got you.”  Her attitude can be sassy “Ok, dad, I get it – you don’t have to repeat it.” or sweet “Mom, you are the best mommy ever!”  

Maria makes her presence known wherever she travels through that loud booming voice of hers.  She has the Heile/Menkedick vocal chords.  Her favorite pastime is yelling just like she used to do as a baby in her crib every two hours of every night.  How Jon and I survived the first 15 months is beyond me (yes, 15 months before she slept through the night – we really need to be sainted).   Maria loves to take care of younger kids – the mother hen is alive and well in her.  No matter if it’s Gracie or Lucy or Maggie or Maura, she sits with them and shows them books or toys, she holds their hand when they try to walk across the room, she makes funny faces at them and makes them laugh, she pats their backs when they start to whimper.  She is a natural. 

Maria and her family

Maria and her family

Maria also loves to be around family.  She adores her grandparents who all bring something special to her life; she worships her uncles who even break down and play barbies with her; she frolics with all of her aunts and cousins who treat her like one of them and let her join in all of the festivities.  She especially loves her little brother who can be a pain in the butt at times between hitting her, pinching her, pulling her hair, waking her up, and sitting on her.  Nonetheless, she is always ready to squeeze and hug him when he allows, and she will protect him at all costs (we can never forget when Mario and her were in the bounce house and a boy tried to push Mario – Maria stepped in and pushed him back warning “Don’t hurt my brother!”).  She received the nickname “The Muscle” in daycare and  the name lives on as she gets older.  Her hugs can be lethal but always well-intentioned.

Trying out her new bike

She is observant like her daddy recognizing people’s goofy mannerisms or certain things in books or places that I would never have noticed.  She is wild like her momma running around and being loud whether it is at parties or at the house.  She likes to live life large.  She loves food and drink.  She is always ready for a loaf of garlic bread and pasta and meatballs, and could go without anything else if she had that plate at her side 24 hours a day.  Maria loves to help cook (which is a fascinating phenomena since her mama embarrassingly rarely cooks).  When we make pancakes or cookies or macaroni, she wants to read the box and add the ingredients and stir the food.  She looks forward to setting the table and having all of us eat together.  However, she is less fond of making a lot of conversation at the dinner table.  She is like her dad – there to eat and not to chat. She enjoys pretty dresses and beaded sandals but is still not hesitant to put her knees on the ground and dig for worms.  She loves to put on make-up but detests brushing her hair and wails at the thought of anyone else brushing it.  

Maria celebrating her b-day at school

She still climbs into bed at 6 am and snuggles her body up against mine; many times she lifts her head and places my arm under it (I always hated sleeping this way with boyfriends but with my daughter it is a joy!).  She adores her daddy and goes through serious withdraw when he leaves town for more than a couple of days.  He stands up for him when he is getting grief from me or another family member but quickly turns on him when Grandma Ionno is around demanding that she “take care of Dad because she is the boss and he is her son!”  She loves her mama as much as she loves her daddy but as it tends to be with mothers and daughters, it is much more emotional in nature.  She either thinks I am the greatest thing to hit this Earth or the most evil person to walk into her life.  I can only imagine how much more pronounced this will be as she gets older – teenage years are thankfully seven years away.

Ri giving me the bear hug

Maria exudes a spirit that few kids her age possess.  She is free and spontaneous and relaxed and aware and empathetic and magical.  I think she is the coolest girl on the planet, and I want to give her mondo kisses and lovin’ every time I lay eyes on her.  Luckily, I can still get away with doing that; I am certainly going to live it up while I am able.

Continuing the Madness…

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Easter morning

We stuffed ourselves on Saturday.  Absolutely stuffed between the corn casserole, the brownies, the potato salad.  So, what else is there to do but continue the gluttony on Easter Sunday?  The kids woke up in a bit of a stupor from our long day on Saturday but within about eight minutes, the day hit them. 

“Is it Easter?  Did the Easter Bunny come here? Are there eggs downstairs?”

It had rained all night so the back yard was soaked.  Jon kept the kids in bed while I ran downstairs to hide the eggs and put out their baskets.  I had done the baskets Friday night knowing that I would be exhausted Saturday night.  As I was placing the last few eggs on the bookcase and piano, the kids started shuffling downstairs asking if they could begin the hunt.  They found their baskets in the corner of the dining room – Maria screamed when she saw Justin Bieber stickers and Mario jumped around the room when he discovered mini transformers.  Maria moved onto the “hidden” eggs (not so hidden when you are talking about three rooms downstairs with very little furniture) and found all of her eggs within two minutes.  Mario took his time on the eggs front because those new transformers were way too enticing.  

After the hunt came the best part – opening each egg to eat up the contents.  I had packed Maria’s eggs full of skittles, gumballs and NERDS (she enjoys those sweet candies like her Aunt Sarah).  I packed Mario all chocolate – M&M’s, snickers, and reese’s (he is his mother’s child).  Everytime Mario looked away, I snatched another chocolate.   

Jon’s parents and brothers came over at 11 am and we headed to brunch at Bravo’s restaurant.  The kids hung on their  cousin Peter, the entire time.  They were fascinated with him (age 16) just like they are with their Heile boy cousins(age 16 and 17).  Luckily, Peter is about as low-key as the Heile boys so he allowed them to climb on him, lead him through our house, and show him their toys.  When we returned home, Mario begged to play Peter in a game of b-ball on Wii.  While they played, the gals (Maria, Patty, Debbie and me) walked to Giant Eagle to grab a bag of ice.  We talked about Jon’s dad, about moving to Columbus, about kids.  It was nice to break away and have that alone time together.  Maria did a good job walking with us and listening to us talk – she is getting more mature in that arena lately.  She used to butt in every two seconds in the past but now she enjoys listening and adding in her two cents when she sees fit. 

When we got home from the store, Mario had moved the men to the outside to play “live” basketball. He showed us his dunks while Maria came out and showed us her new sandals.  I had taken her there to get me a pair of gym shoes.  When we walked in, however, Maria immediately dragged me over to the high heels section.  She selected about three different heels that were over an inch high and that I have only seen in the movies on prostitutes.  She loved them.  To her despair, I moved directly to the gym shoe area.  I led her to the girls’ shoes and soon she returned with a pair of black heels on her feet.  They almost fit her perfectly, and she begged to purchase them (I am so hoping that this a phase that ends by the time she is 7).  She chose about 4 other shoes before she came out with the turquoise sandals, which we finally agreed upon. 

After chowing down on Patty’s awesome chocolate chip cookies and turtles, we hit the road for the Heile soiree, aka the Madhouse.  Poor Jon is still not used to the ruckus that inevitably occurs when us Heile women get together but he continues to hang in there be the good sport that he is (typically sitting off in the corner with my uncle to talk about hunting).  My darlin’ girl cousins love on Maria and Mario picking them up, squeezing them, kissing them and giving them raspberries all over those round bellies – just like the treatment I received from my aunts when I was little.  Maria relishes in the time that she gets with her second cousins (who we call aunts just because second cousins seems way too distant).  They include her in anything they do which included this holiday sitting on the back of my uncle’s truck listening to music and chatting about boys, clothes, friends, and shoes – right up Maria’s alley.  Mario has made the conscious choice to turn his attention to the boy cousins because they spend their time playing basketball.  He hangs in there with ’em trying to make a shot even if the net is ten times his size.  One day he will show them all up. 

We chowed down on more ham, more potato salad, more deviled eggs, and a new twist – baked beans (a Heile tradition)!  Dairy Queen ice cream cake for dessert, too.  Pure heaven.  We had our traditional easter egg hunt that used to be at least 9 kids strong but that was before all of the cousins grew up and turned into 20 somethings.  Now we only have four kids participating – Maria and Mario, Baby Grace, and Konner.  Everyone wants to get the $5.o0 egg each year, and although all the kids get the same amount of eggs each year, it is still a race to get your number the quickest.  Maria got all nine of hers and Mario only had 8.  Konner had 7 and Grace was finished.  Everyone was helping Konner and Mario find the remaining eggs.  One of the cousins found one and called for Mario to race over.  Konner started heading that way, and Maria tackled him to the ground in order to help her baby brother (the reason she gives at least).  When it comes to eggs, they go to no lengths to help each other.  Baby Grace ended up with the $5.00 egg for a second year in a row much to Maria’s disappointment.  Maria had a major breakdown last year when Grace got the egg; this year we had a talk about how to act if Grace won (be graceful and grateful that she won because she is a baby and needs diapers!) and indeed, she took the $5.00 “loss” like a champ. 

The rain started to grow heavy after the hunt, and the party moved indoors except for Mario and the boys who continued to shoot in the steady downpour.  Mario walked in the house fifteen minutes later sopping wet and completely uncomfortable.  “Mom, take off my shoes and my clothes.  I am all wet and need to be dry.”  He could not stand being wet, and refused to put his shoes back on throughout the night.  He did enjoy running around the living room in only his undies.  Maria again used her tackling skills to get him under control and move him back into the bedroom to get dressed. 

We left the Heile house with cousin Maggie in the car (hitchhiking a ride back to Columbus) and Madagascar on the movie screen.  Maria lasted about 30 minutes before crashing.  Mario and Maggie hung in throughout the trip home.  We unloaded all of the easter treats in the house and I spent 20 minutes picking through easter candies to eat promising myself that the candy remaining on Monday morning would be given away at work.  Of course, I sit here tonight eating a reese cup and a chocolate bunny swearing that I will get rid of the candy tomorrow.  Yeah….

Family, Ham and Chocolate

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Mario’s game face
M & M getting ready for the hunt!

I love Easter.  It is my favorite holiday for two reasons: (1) I adore chocolate and there is a ton of it between the easter egg hunts, the grandparents, and me splurging on it “for the kids’ baskets;” and (2) people seem to be more relaxed on Easter – less frantic about presents, meals, attire.  Easter comes right at the time of a new season – winter cold is gone and grass is turning green.  People are excited about being outside again. 

We celebrated Easter today out at the farm.  The forecast called for rain all weekend with strong thunderstorms at times.  When we woke up this morning, the sky was grey and dreary but had promise to it.  Patches of yellow and blue broke through in the sky, and I had a feeling during my morning run that we would be spared.  I was right.  The Grandview Easter Egg Hunt began at 10 am with soggy grass underfoot but no rain showers.  Maria’s nightmare came true when she heard that 5-7 year olds were grouped together (“I will never get as many eggs as 7 years olds).  However, she perked back up when she met up with her friend Anna and her grandma.  I stood with Mario in the 2-4 year old group coaching him about how to engage in the hunt (“pick up the eggs first – not the bags of oreos and cookies”).  He put his game face on after my speech, and anxiously awaited for the announcer to yell “GO!”  What comes over me and other parents at these easter egg hunts?  We are so competitive following our kids around the area pointing frantically at eggs that we see.  When the kid is looking in the opposite direction, we yell “Mario, look!  Mario!  Mario, over here!  Mario!!!”  Mario ended up with more eggs than Maria, which led to Maria frowning and complaining that she did not get “any” eggs even though she had three in her basket.  Her friend gave her two of her eggs, which led to 180 degree change in Maria who smiled from ear to ear.  the kids sat down to open their eggs, and Mario promptly gave me the first chocolate candy piece he opened.  What a doll.  I had told him how much I loved easter chocolate and he had told me that he would share his with me.  However, I was not going to believe it until I saw it.  And there it was.  He does love his mama!  Maria, on the other hand, gave me a stern look when I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from her basket.  “Mom, this is my food.”  She is so generous when it comes to other things but not her food!

We rushed home after the hunt and hopped in the car to the farm.  Within five minutes of walking in the door, Maria and Mario and their cousins found the baby chicks.  Tiny and precious and so delicate.  Just what three and five-year olds need to handle.  But Grandma Meg managed to let all of the kids hold them without incident.  Mario chanted “Calm, calm” to the chick while he held it.  Maria acted like she was a vet while she held one asking me what was wrong with my baby chick.  They were infatuated at first sight.  Maria and Anneliese, her 8 year old cousin, played beautifully together.  Surprisingly, Mario and his three-year old cousin, Ben, also played together for the first time ever.  In the past, they were into their own things (and still at that young age where you don’t play much with other kids) but this time they were by each others’ sides for most of the day.  Ben would yell for Mario and Mario would run to him.  Mario would ask Ben to get something for him and Ben would get it.  They threw stones in the stream for 30 minutes and talked about being in the army while they rode the rocking horses.  They used croquet clubs as hammers and swords.  Boys.  Maria and Anneliese held the chicks a lot and walked Rosie and played in the stream.  Tomgirls – yeah! 

We ate yummy ham and potato salad and deviled eggs and corn casserole and butter rolls.  Patty’s potato salad won everyone over with people going up for thirds!  I swear I am going to enter her p. salad into a contest – it will undoubtedly take first place.  Desserts made my stomach larger just looking at them – brownies, cookies, shortcake, chocolate cake, lemon bars in addition to all of the Easter candy!  Oh, how I love this holiday! But, oh, how I wish I had some sort of will power.  I get on Maria about eating too much but then I stand around the table eating 3 brownies, cake, candy and cookies.  I blame those Menkedick genes that cannot resist chocolate (unless you are supernatural like my father).  My 91 year-old grandmother devoured the desserts just like me so I think I am doomed.  

The kids got to ride the horses towards the end of the day and then got treated to a stellar easter egg hunt.  There is part of me that still wants to participate in those hunts – I see an egg hiding in the fence post and I get so excited.  I was a damn good egg finder back in my day….  We finished up the afternoon holding the chicks some more and chatting with family that we don’t see as often as we would like.  Maria would love to have Anneliese closer and Mario and Ben would have a blast together now that they are the ripe old age of three.  Grandma M. is strong as ever, carrying on conversation and watching the kids play.  I wish I lived closer to her so we could see her more often even though she even states that having M&M over any more often would seriously wear her out.  She has got to be kidding – my kids are little angels…! 

In sum, a great start to a holiday weekend.  The farm is a gem, and Meg did an awesome job hosting us all.  Dad did an awesome job entertaining the kids (even though he allowed Mario to fall in the stream!).  And the rest of us just soaked in the beauty of a wet Spring day.

Seriously, non-fat??

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Chowing on yogurt

Grandview got a new addition to the neighborhood – a frozen yogurt shoppe called Orange Leaf.  The sign had been placed in the store window for months before it opened and Maria and I continuously eyeballed it every time we walked past to go to Giant Eagle.  After months or anticipation, the shoppe opened without much fanfare on a weekday night.  The walls are a bright lime and the seats and tables are white and orange.  They have a pinball machine that is free.  Mario’s favorite.  They have over ten different flavors to choose from but why anyone would get anything other than Brownie Batter and Peanut Butter is beyond me.  I am still appalled that my own daughter gets vanilla out of all the flavors to choose from!  And, all of the yogurt is either non-fat or low-fat. 

Marios yogurt dish

What else can that remind you of but the Seinfeld episode from back in the early 90’s where Elaine and Jerry fall in love with frozen non-fat yogurt until they notice that they are gaining weight.  They test the content of the yogurt after Elaine’s boyfriend notices that she is gaining weight, and discover that it has loads of fat in it.  This has got to be the case with the yogurt at Orange Leaf – it is just too good.  Or maybe the fat enters the picture when you dump a pound of Butterfinger and crushed Snickers into your yogurt dish.  Just maybe….  

Our favorites: Maria gets vanilla wafers and graham crackers on her vanilla yogurt; I get M&M’s, butterfinger, oreos and/or snickers; and Mario gets plain chocolate yogurt with no toppings.  All I can say is that this Orange Leaf shoppe is going to be very dangerous this Summer.  It is only a few blocks from our house.  The only deterrent is that it can be costly.  Maria inevitably puts a load of yogurt in her cup (the other down side is they only have one 16 ounce size which is huge for a five-year old kid), and, I can’t help but load mine up because I always seem to go there after a hectic day (which is more or less everyday!). 

The gals being silly

It has already become the “after school” place for kids to go.  When we visited yesterday with Alana (I picked the girls up from school and left work early), there were 20 middle school kids in the shoppe spending their parents’ moolah on gummy bears, coconut yogurt, sprinkles and skittles.  The owner had a big ol’ grin on his face thinking about this profitable trend.  I can just picture Maria in that shoppe after middle school making her yogurt sundaewith her girlfriends talking about her teachers, boys, and oh, who I am kidding, more boys…!  Mario, on the other hand, may hit the place after the last of his three ball games.

Mario ready for the season

Subway Adventure

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Maria on her third b-day enjoying cupcakes at daycare.

Maria got out of school early yesterday (at 11:30). Jon and I are still not used to this kindergarten deal where kids get out of school early, don’t have school during the middle of the week, get two weeks off for vacation.  Don’t these schools know that we rely on them to be babysitters for our children while we work our 9-5 jobs?  We are still in denial that she is going to be off all summer.  We keep waiting and hoping that some pixie dust will create a summer babysitter for Maria – we are the worst procrastinators.  Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about Mario because he is still in a daycare that takes care of us working parents by staying open until 6 pm.  

Jon and I realized on Thursday afternoon that Maria was off early.  Typical last-minute realization.  Therefore, we decided to do split shifts: I picked her up from school and he watched her later in the day.   Before school I had told her that I would take her to lunch so she could daydream all day about where she wanted to go.  When I picked her up, she ran over to me and squeezed me hard.  Pure excitement.  There is nothing better in life than an ecstatic squeeze and smile from your kid.  To be loved….

Maria getting ready for a "nutritious" lunch at school with her friends!

We walked to the car and she told me that she had chosen Chipotle.  Within a minute of getting in the car, it turned to Noodles.  Then Wendy’s.  We finally agreed on Subway because she wanted a salad and sandwich.  Alright, I thought, something half-way healthy – she has been eating the school lunches, which consist of fried cheese on a stick, french toastix, and cheeseburgers.

As we walked into the store, I described some sandwiches.  They have ham and turkey and roast beef and chicken…

“Mom, I want a meatball sub with extra cheese.”  My girl.

She also wanted a “salad” which consisted of lettuce, cheese, and croutons.  I made her add some tomatoes and peppers but she picked right through them later.  Then she picked up a bag of Doritos (“I promise I will just eat a couple”) and a chocolate milk.  What a smorgasboard.  We would have been better off at Five Guys Burgers and Fries.  We sat at the bar and began eating our meal.  Like her mama, she can take down some food.  Her meatball sandwich was gone in 5 minutes and we both moved onto the salad.  I must admit the Doritos were a good choice – I have not had those in a long time and they hit the spot. 

My girl taking down a cupcake!

Finally, we topped the meal off with a chocolate chip cookie and cupcake.  So much for Jared’s shtick about losing weight through Subway!

One extreme to the other

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Snow party!

This Winter has been way too cold.  December usually brings a few days of below freezing weather but last month I don’t remember a day where I couldn’t have seen penguins sliding around on the ice outside of our door.  I thought maybe we could look forward to a surprisingly warm January but this month is more of the same.  However, one of my New Year’s Resolutions is to be less negative and see that glass as half full versus half empty.  So, here I go.  Although it was freezing outside, we at least got some snow.  Of course, not enough that we could build a snowman (stop the negative!) but enough that we could make a go at sledding down our local hill. 

 In doing so, wegot the chance to use the plastic sleds we received from cousin Laura for Christmas.  They are the cutest little sleds with a curvy hourglass seat and a handle in the front to steer.  Of course, the seat is made for a three-year old’s butt – when I sat on it at the house, more than half of each cheek laid on the cold snow – not a plastic sled.  We bundled up in two pairs of pants, two shirts, two pairs of socks, jumpsuits, gloves, hats, coats, and snowshoes and booked down to the hill in hopes of beating everyone else.  We only found four others sledding on it – yeah! 

 

Getting ready for the hill!

The hill had already lost most of its snow but with a plastic sled, no problem (see that positive spirit shining through!).  We climbed up to the top and loaded Maria on her red sled.  I gave her a push and much to our dismay, she gently coasted down the hill having to push herself one or two times.  Ok, my reaction affects her reaction so when she looked up the hill at me, I yelled “that was awesome, Ri!”  You could tell that she had expected to go faster but hesitated in saying so because of my reaction.  All of a sudden, a smile formed on her face and she yelled “can I go again?”  Nothin’ like spreading that positive thinking!  

Mario got on his blue sled, and I would have sworn it was custom-built for him.  His butt sat in it perfectly, and with a slight push he whizzed down the hill.  After watching Mario, Maria gave it another try and had high hopes.  Unfortunately, half way down the hill we heard a snap.  When she got to the bottom, she stood up and realized that her sled had broken in two (she has her momma’s bottom).  There was an immediate breakdown – crying like she had been told that she would ever eat meatballs again.  I raced down the hill to calm her down.  “Hey, we still have Mario’s sled” I told her.  

She finally calmed down.  We approached Mario at the top of the hill and told him of Maria’s dilemma.  

 “This is MY sled – no one can use it besides me!”
 
Pretty much what I had expected from Mario who is not into sharing at all (he won’t even share a piece of food that he does not like) so I was ready with my response.  
  
“Mario, your sister lets you share everything with her.  You will share your sled with her or we are leaving and no one sleds.”  
  
“Ok, let’s go home.”

Broken sleds

 
Yeah, again, pretty much the response I expected from him.  Stubborn as heck.  He will give up any type of fun if it means he does not have to share.  I explained to him that he was going to sled with his sister or let his sister go by herself.  He chose the former.   I loaded him and Maria onto the sled and they slid slowly down the hill.  Surprisingly, they both looked up from the bottom of the hill and were smiling!  Alright, score!  When they got up the hill, they asked me to go with them.  In the excitement of it all, I hopped on and stacked them on me.  The sled broke within two seconds of push-off.  Next meltdown but Mario this time.  I explained that we would get some new sleds and come back to the hill.  Hs finally calmed down, cheeks frozen with tears. 

Maria ready for the pool!

  
The next day, knowing that the hill would have no more snow on it, I offered the next best activity to sledding – swimming!  We went to a new indoor pool in Dublin.  Swimming is quite the chore for me because Maria is not swimming on her own yet and Mario wants me to watch his every move.  As soon as I go near Mario, Maria wants me and vice versa.  Finally, I got Maria to put on her goggles and swim to me while I sat near Mario and watched him jump up in the water and land on his stomach.  There was a lazy river that provided much fun as we acted like superheroes while we swam around it.  Unfortunately, they have 15 minute breaks every hour.  Poor Mario cannot handle the cold once he has to get out of the pool.  His lips turn purple, he shakes, and he begs to go home.  Maria, on the other hand, doesn’t even use her towel when she gets out – our little polar bear girl.  I knew that a bag of Cheetos and a big hug from me would calm Mario down and I was right.  We lasted through the 15 minute break and hopped back in at the whistle’s call.  Maria got better at playing by herself and Mario got better at not demanding every second of my attention.  We swam another 45 minutes and then hopped into the showers.  Mario refused to get out.  He showered for 18 minutes with hot water before he finally asked me to get him (this is the same kid who adores hot tubs).  We got dressed, got some chips for Ri and played I Spy while we sat in the Dublin Rec Center lobby.  
  
We got home in time for dinner, and decided on pasta and meatballs and garlic bread.  Good post-swimming meal.  As they sat at their table, Maria spoke to Mario about the importance of saying thank you even if you don’t like a gift that you get (we had discussed this with the kids when we were making Christmas rounds).  Mario sat intently listening to her.  She moved onto discussing the idea of sharing and asked him for a chip.  He promptly responded with a “no.” She took one anyway.  He complained.  She gave it back and told him that if someone takes your food, you should tell them that you do not appreciate it but you should not yell at them.  This coming from the girl who nearly burst a vein screaming at Cy when he ate her garlic bread.  However, that was months ago – how she has grown since that time.  
 

Mario waiting with goggles on!

Summer Teenage Control Program

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Mario copping his attitude while at Five Guys eating his fries!

Tonight, I turned into my father (AHHHHHH!).  I instituted the Toddler and Kindergartner Dinner Control Program.  Jon and I have done a horrid job at sitting down to dinner with the kids.  Both of us grew up having dinner with our parents, and want to carry that tradition down to Maria and Mario.  However, for numerous reasons (some lame and some legitimate), we have failed.  We both work and have used that as an excuse to order in food most of the days of the week or simply skip dinner and eat some random foods through the night.  Now, before we have Child Welfare knocking at our door, we do feed the children decent meals.  They just usually eat them at their little Dora table as Jon or I (sometimes both) watch them gobble up their food and begin play again.  If they are not eating at their little table, they are out with me at one of the parks eating a picnic dinner or at Panera or Cowtown Pizza.  During the Spring, Summer, and Fall, we live outside.  Therefore, we carry our dinner with us.  So, here comes Winter and darkness at 5 pm.  We need to make the change. 

Maria wanted a “feast” for this dinner so she decided on turkey dogs, peas, leftover pasta and meatballs, grapes, and bread.  We cooked the meal while Mario and Jon played in the dining room. 

Maria doing her model pose (as always) while eating her fry!

After fifteen whole minutes, we had our meal.  Maria and Jon cleared the dining room table, Maria placed a vase of flowers on it, and we served the dinner plates.  We all sat down.  Maria and Mario fought for five minutes about who got to say a meal prayer (Grandma Ionno instituted this ritual in them!).  Finally, Maria caved and Mario went first and Maria second.  We then began our next soon-to-be ritual: telling each other our favorite part of our day.  Mario again got to go first (yes, Maria is a saint and so patient).  Mario’s favorite part of the day was learning about manners at school (always say “please” and put a napkin in your shirt when you eat sloppy foods).  Maria’s favorite part was sitting next to her friends, Zach and Trent, at lunch and laughing about “silly things.”  Unfortunately, Jon was stopped cold in his story because at this point, Mario was standing up in his chair and dancing.  We scolded him to sit down and eat warning him that Spiderman only gets bigger if he eats his food (the only thing, if anything, that works on him to get him to eat).  Maria, by that time, was begging for some of my spaghetti since she had eaten her food.  Maria skirted all around her chair and managed to get cottage cheese and spaghetti sauce in her hair, on her forehead and on her shirt.  We were asking her to scoot around to the table when Mario stated he was finished (although he had only ate half of his hot dog and nothing else).  He lifted those tiny arms up with his palms facing upward pleading “But, mom, I am not hungry. My tummy will hurt.”

He knows exactly what to say.  Maria, meanwhile, was set on finishing the rest of my spaghetti.  She is a girl who knows how to eat well.  Unfortunately, I do not think Mario will rise to her level anytime soon.  Right in the midst of all of this, guess  who calls?  My Father!  The Architect of the Teenage Summer Control Program that I morphed into the Toddler and Kindergartner Dinner Control Program!  Little did he know what influence he had on his daughter. 

Maria and Mario ready for our Fall picnic at the park!

As soon as I got on the phone with him, the kids were out of their chairs and wrestling on the floor.  It had been 16 minutes since we began eating our dinner – not bad for the Programs’s first night.  Tomorrow we will explain the Program in more detail to the kids and try for 18 minutes.  I may also have to give them a carrot like my dad did for me and tell them if they sit in their seats for 18 minutes, they will get a yummy treat for dessert.  I better stack up on vanilla ice cream, whipped cream and skittles!

Eating Well

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Cooking is like love.  It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.  ~Harriet van Horne

One of hte amazing dishes from Doris and Kim

We got out of the car tonight and they immediately pleaded “can we go to Doris and Kim’s house to say “hi?”  Before I could answer Maria’s plea, she was standing in their yard moving towards the porch.  Mario followed swiftly yelling his monkey scream “ew ew ah ah.”  Doris had a few girlfriends over and she had out brie and crackers.  The kids dove into the crackers and I scooped up the brie.  Heaven.  Doris is an amazing cook.  Everything I taste of hers is remarkable.  (Now, granted, this is coming from the woman who does not cook anything.  But although I do not cook, I still know good food! )

Her dishes  take you to another world.  I am in Sicily or Florence or New Orleans or Paris.  She needs to start her own business – she is made to live in the kitchen.  She enters the cooking process with abandon.  Her art is just too wonderful to be wasted anywhere else.  Their kitchen was just renovated a couple of years ago, and it was a wise investment.   

Posing near the sunflowers on our way to Jeni's

When we stopped at Doris and Kim’s tonight after an hour walk to Jeni’s and up Grandview Ave. (looking at the power lines that Papa Rod climbs, the different shapes of clouds, and the mailboxes that store our letters to distant family), they had a basket of delicious rolls for the kids.  I scored a chicken marsala dish with mushrooms and noodles.  It was sweet and tangy.  The chicken marsala from many weddings’ past paled in comparison to Ms. Doris’s.  The other night she hooked my up with grilled veggies (zucchini and yellow squash and onion), shaved cheese, and chicken.  The veggies were out of this world and the chicken juicy, juicy, juicy. 

Oh, yes, we must have done something right to land these two for neighbors.