Christmas Traditions (and other regimens)

Every family has a few traditions that never change.  Most families change these traditions as the kids grow older, from little tykes to teens to young men and women.  But my kids know my traditions that don't change.  But the traditions they stick to now are traditions that have been established later in their lives, whether or not they realize it.  Such as, steak and crab for Christmas eve dinner.  When the kids were young, there is no way we could have afforded that sort of food.  I don't remember exactly what we used to have, I'm sure it was wonderful and homemade, but I can't recall there being a certain "food" we had for dinner.  On Christmas day, it's always a crapshoot.  I sometimes made lasagna, but more often a turkey or a ham, because those meats were cheap and available.  I used to save lasagna for my daughter's birthday, on Dec. 30th, but now she says she no longer likes my lasagna (maybe I made it too much a part of her birthday).  Funny thing, though, when asked what she remembers about Christmas growing up, she answers that it was a celebratory time, an exciting time, and whatever gifts she received made her happy in her memory.
That's really what it is all about.  Traditions are awesome, because they are what builds up to the anticipation of the family level celebration of Christ' birth.  There is the picking out of the tree, the waiting to decorate until the limbs have fallen, the placing of the star by one of the kids.  There is my daughter's tradition of letting the kids open a present that always happens to contain a brand new pair of pajamas that they put on immediately.  There is the decision as to whether or not to wrap the presents from Santa.  We used to not wrap them when the kids were really little, but when they got old enough to sneak down and peek after we went to bed, we had to start wrapping everything.
Traditions are a form of regimen.  Children learn what to expect by what preceeds it.  They know that buying a tree comes before the decorations, they know when they go to bed on Christmas Eve that the next morning they will be opening their presents.  Just like they know that if they misbehave, they get punished.  They know that when they wake up, there will be breakfast.  When they get home, someone will be there waiting.
If only every child could depend on these things.  That would be my wish this year.  That every child know what to expect when they awake, and that they all sleep in a safe, warm place.

You just never know..

Tonight I got to taste a little bite of heaven.  I ate the best tiramisu that I have ever put in my mouth.  And, all the more surprising, it came from an unexpected place.  My very talented son-in-law!  He made these individual desserts for a party that he and my daughter gave for their friends.  They were amazing.  Now, you should note, he has also made homemade double layer chocolate cake for my daughter's 30th birthday, and the cakes for our company party.  His wife is an amazing cook and so is his mother, so he knows what it takes.  But desserts are his thing.  He takes pride in what he cooks and I am just amazed.  So, guess what?  He gets to make the desserts from now on.  I have never been great at desserts.  Oh, I can make a carrot cake or follow the recipe for banana nut muffins, but this guy knows what he is doing!
So, it was a long, long Monday today.  Things that made it better:  seeing my homemade cinnamon rolls disappear first thing this morning.  Getting to play with my granddaughter in the office and watch her throw those amazing fits.  Talking with my daughter and son-in-law and telling them how proud of them I am. 
Waking up to my cup of coffee prepared by my husband.  Sending my son and his wife their Christmas package barely in time for him to get it before he heads off to Texas for the holidays (tee-hee).  Thinking of my other son and hoping this is a Christmas he will remember, for good or for bad.
Tonight was pheasant, because it was all that was defrosted in the fridge.  Wrapped the boneless, skinless breasts with bacon, seasoned well, and browned in a cast iron skillet.  Put in the oven to finish off for about 45 minutes with some quartered potatoes.  Warmed up leftover broccolli.  Made my hubby a miniature wedge salad.
But the grand finale, that tiramasu..... now that was something surprising and wonderful.  Tomorrow will be brighter now.

Grandkids and the morning after.....

There is nothing like the warm sleepy kisses of kids ready (or already) in bed.  When you get to be a grandparent and only get it once a week, it is especially sweet.  Yes, the grandkids were over last night.  The kids came over after church and had dinner with us and left the kids for the night.  I made my famous "homemade chili".  All the years I boiled the beans and cut up the tomatoes and a couple of years ago I was craving chili dogs, but just couldn't do the canned chili.  So, I browned some ground beef with onions and fresh garlic, added a can of chili beans, a can of chopped tomatos (Ro-tel are the best, but a little spicy), small can of tomato sauce, and some chili powder.  Mixed it all up and simmered for a little while (it doesn't really matter how long), it's done as soon as you put it together.  I also heated up some homemade split pea soup and a batch of lima beans with leftover ham from the company party last week.  YUM.  Everyone had a little of everything.  The chili is gone, but the beans will just get better every day.
Back to those warm sleepy kisses and the grandkids.  No matter what time of day or night, their snuggles and hugs are for grandpa first, when he is around.  They both walk right past me to get to him if he's available and it never ceases to amaze me how they light up when he is around.  While I sometimes am a little jealous, and mutter "chopped liver" under my breath, I realize how fortunate we are to have him in our lives.  For me, he just makes it all better.  So, when I get up to find all three of them in his lazyboy, it is a sight.  Grandson's long legs are hanging clear down to the end of the chair and granddaughter is curled into a little ball, barely seen under the Jazz blanket she drags down with her in the morning.  My husband in the center, a content smile on his face as he kisses first one head, then the other, and squeezes them til they laugh.
Here's to many more mornings, many more bowls of chili, and warm sleepy kisses from children....

Connecting....

How do we connect with each other?  The other day I went for a ride with my husband up to his pheasant hunting area.  We left about 3:30 pm, with no particular plan in mind, just to take a ride and see if there were any pheasant roosters out to be seen.  The sun was beginning to set when we got out to the area that my husband hunts, the sky was overcast, and it was cold.  I'm always grateful for those heated seats on days like that.  For some reason, it had been a particularly discouraging day, and I was feeling pretty down when we left.  In fact, the only reason that I went was that I knew that if I stayed home I would get nothing done at all.  Going for a ride seemed to be a great way to dodge the work at home, and, at the same time, get some one on one with the hubby.
I made myself a cocktail to go, my husband an iced tea to go, put on warm boots and took my warm jacket.  We had not gone very far when I opened up on my husband.  Now, let me just say this.  He is a saint.  No, not perfect, but when it comes to understanding me, there is no-one that can compare with him.  He doesn't always try to fix what's wrong, he just listens sometimes.  He points out things that I have overlooked, and doesn't judge the way I feel.  He lets me vent.  He listens to my frustrations and my tantrums.  He reminds me of what is really important.  He just loves me and our children and our childrens' children.  Just like they are.  With faults and flaws and blessings.  He just loves us.
Needless to say, when we arrived back home, well after dark, we were both tired and hungry.  I was exhausted from my mental day, and he was tired from his physical day.  He offered McDonalds.  I declined.  We got home and I whipped up a homemade hamburger for each of us.  Real ground beef, mixed with spices and a new ingredient, some precooked bacon added to the mixture.  Fired up the cast iron skillet, fried them with some red onions and topped them with cheese.  Got buns out of the freezer, threw them in the oven and toasted them lightly.  Dressed the buns, popped on the burgers, dug out some chips and a soda and had the hands down most amazing burger ever.  OK, maybe we were really hungry, but that bacon mixed in just did something extra for the whole burger.  I'll never mix them up without it again (if I can help it). 
Anyway, I just want to say how fortunate I am to be able to connect with those I love.  Maybe I can't everyday.  Maybe it's on a ride or over a pedicure, or when my son needs a recipe or something else.  But we do connect.  And I have to remember that sometimes its not that I have to try to connect, but just I have to let it happen, and don't resist.  Just go along for the ride.
Here's to happy days and hamburgers!

What to say, when to say it....

The pork chops turned out great, according to the family, who ate them for dinner and again for lunch the next day.  Super simple recipe given to me by my ex-mother-in-law, I think.  Not sure I remember that far back.  Just brown the pork chops in a skillet with a little oil, meanwhile mix one can of cream of mushroom soup, one soup can of tap water, and one soup can of white rice.  Stir this mixture in a baking dish (9x13 usually works), place the pork chops on top, cover with foil, and bake at 350 degrees for about an hour!  Rice turns creamy and brown and the pork chops are super tender. 
So, how do we know what to say and when to say it?  I was never away from my kids for any length of time by my choice, but they seem to be so very different now from who they were.  Maybe they are too much like me, maybe I'm just sensitive, or maybe they've just grown up and become themselves.  Either way, I always seem to be saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.  My kids respond to me with anger and angst when I least expect it.  But I wonder, is it the way I am as well?  I am struggling daily to become a better person.  A better wife, a better mom, a better grandma, a better sibling.  It's really hard, though, changing old habits.  Lest you think I want sympathy, believe me when I say I don't think of myself as a failure.  Well, there have been a couple of things that I failed at, but I have overall had much success in my life.
Maybe I'll succeed at becoming a better person some day, stay tuned and you will see.
Until then, I wish you great food and even better family ties!

Why do we expect so little???

Suppertime, or dinner, means different things to different people. Sometimes it depends on where you are from, how you were raised, if you have kids or not. But normally, there is a ritual that people consider to be the evening meal. I'm not sure, but I think my kids all have a little different vision of this meal. Their visions are tempered by what they have done, and who is involved in their lives (and choices).

For instance, last night my husband and I took our daughter, her husband, and our two grandkids to a national chain sports "grill" for dinner. We were heading for the town Christmas Village to look at lights and no-one wanted to cook, much less do dishes. We chose this restaurant for it's proximity to our destination, as well as former experiences with this place. We were early, about 5 pm, hoping to get there early so we would be able to get on to the village before it got too cold.

Well, what can I say. Service was unbelievably slow, dinners all came out in the wrong order, youngest diner (2 yrs) got her mac and cheese last.

But here's the problem. NO ONE CARES anymore. The manager is full of excuses, waiter acts like you should be honored to be eating at this restaurant! This is happening so often now that we actually prefer to dine at home.

But, the other thing is this..... this restaurant was PACKED when we left, on a Thursday night! Unbelievable, but we seem to have evolved into people that are willing to settle. Settle for an alright dinner, alright service, alright everything.

Well, as of today, I am rebelling. This blog will continue to be about suppertime, whatever it may be, in my life. Maybe a recipe that I love, maybe some comments on a local place to eat, good and bad, maybe just about who came to dinner.

Oh, and by the way, we have the grandkids for dinner and I am making Pork Chops, yup, plain old, inexpensive, "put some meat on your bones" Pork Chops. Probably with mashed taters and gravy. Always with a veggie and a salad (this is all I will eat). But my husband knows moderation, as he is trim at 45, my son-in-law works hard, and my grandson and granddaughter will burn the calories off as soon as they leave the table. Plus, there's always leftovers with this meal...... lunch for tomorrow for the boys.

So, until tomorrow, may your suppertime be blessed with family and lots of delicious food!