Cycles Gladiator

Cycles Gladiator
Chardonnay 2006
Central Coast
about $10

It's been ages since I reviewed any wines. I've said it many times in this blog but in case you missed it, it was a really busy fall! I've certainly drunk my fair share of wines this fall but most evenings I enjoyed them for the bliss they brought and not for any complexity. After a little vacation - and with every candle in the house adding calming ambiance - I finally feel up to the task of writing a review.

Good little wine snob that I am, I picked this wine for the label. The label uses whimsical art from the late 19th century, true to the spirit of the times. The wine makers would like you to believe that that same spirit is encapsulated in the wine. The label also happens to include a naked woman, which got this wine banned in the state of Alabama. So for all my family down there in Alabama, this one's for you!

Cycles has classic peach and blossom flavors often found in California Chardonnay but this one is incredibly light. Since the wine did not seem to touch any oak, the subtle tastes are able to sparkle. We had it with pork chops cooked in pear jelly (made by Pete and Anne: Thanks again!) and it matched the feathery sweet flavors nicely. Sitting around after dinner sipping gently, the wine doesn't quite hold up to the evening. It would, however, be delightful sitting on the porch in August - especially in Alabama.

A Merry Little Christmas

Monkey & Peanut are up North with their mom for the Holidays while Stan, Puddin' and I are down South enjoying a very mellow Christmas. There is abundant peace and goodwill around us and very little Christmas hype. In some ways it feels a little too calm to be Christmas, or maybe even anti-climactic.

After a hectic fall, we've all been looking forward to a break. This past weekend we were given a bigger break than we dreamed of. After Monkey's ballet recital Friday night (she did so well! No stage fright, managed to smile a little, and mostly remembered her moves.) the blizzard started. We woke up Saturday morning to 6 inches of snow and no sign of stopping. After a call to Nana's, we realized that the extended family Christmas present exchange was not going to happen that day since they had more snow than we did. (Luckily, Nana & Papa had the foresight to drop off presents with us after the recital. We've all been really excited for Monkey & Peanut to get their gifts.) All morning long we watched the snow pile up and puttered about the house with tea and hot chocolate. After lunch we went ahead with present opening, putting family on speaker phone as needed. It was actually a lot of fun to have just our quintet and take our time enjoying and exploring. We laughed and played and had a grand ole time until all the presents were open. Then we laughed and played some more.

Sunday morning the snow had finally stopped but had left us a foot and a half of fluffy white. The snow plows were no where in sight so we were house bound for another day. Monkey & Peanut finally got up the nerve to brave the cold and went outside to bury their heads in the snow. (Honestly. They were playing "ostrich.") Stan started shoveling while I watched from the warmth of my teacup. Once again, we spent the day playing and talking. We cooked and baked. We talked about Advent and what Christmas means to us this year. We went to bed satisfied.

By Monday afternoon, when Monkey & Peanut's mom picked them up for the winter break, it felt sad to break up our little gang. Three days together with no errands or projects was a tremendous blessing. More than a blessing, it was everything I had asked for for Christmas - rest and peace.

So here I am, about to celebrate Christmas proper, and feeling too spoiled to ask for anything more. I hope that each of you will find that joy and satisfaction as you go through your own holiday season.

Flashback

Stan was out this evening so I ran the show solo. Monkey & Peanut each had long lists of things to accomplish before bedtime so I was dreading the evening. They rose to the task, though. Each accomplished her list and had extra time to do something freely chosen. Extra time is elusive in this house so for both to find some borders on miraculous.

I finally got all three girls tucked in, lights out, and then had quite a flashback: Now that I've got the kids down, what am I going to do until the parents get home? That's right folks, standing there in my very own kitchen, after putting my own kids to bed, I thought for one fleeting moment that I was the babysitter.

I haven't yet decided what this says about my mental state.

Me and My Monkey

Community and friendship are important parts of being human. I've struggled much of my life to find good solid friendships and community where I feel like I have a true place or purpose. Stan has had some of that struggle, although he's also had more success than me. Here in the midst of life with three kids, we've barely got time to manage our own relationship so friendships are becoming increasingly nebulous. Recognizing that neither of us can meet all of the other's relational needs, we often talk about prioritizing friends but it's still not happening. For me, part of that is time but in all honesty, part of it is on purpose. The introvert in me doesn't want to handle the stress of exerting myself. The kid in me still feels scarred from years of being rejected. I thought for sure I'd be over this by now.

Monkey is having friend problems too. Last year some of the people she liked chose not to be her friends anymore but it was ok because she was able to develop some new, and incredibly close, friendships. The two girls she palled around with were delightful people who helped her try new things. They were true friends and didn't pull any of the nasty mind-games that girls that age are prone to. This year neither girl is in her class (one isn't at the school) and she's had to start from scratch in the search for pals. The girls in her class have all paired off into besties and there's no room for Monkey. She's working hard on her friendship skills and even got up the guts to ask a few of them if she could be their friends. They said no. She's tried every thing that any of us can think of and still finds herself without friends, with more than half the school year left to go.

The other day Monkey came home mopey. She was picking on both her sisters, which gave me a clue that maybe something wasn't right. After chatting for a little bit, she said "I don't think I can learn well if I don't have any friends. Friends are a big part of what we do at school and how we learn." The poor dear. The sweet, sweet, lovable darling. I scooped her into my lap and the two of us sat there bewildered and teary-eyed for a little while. I didn't have any way of answering that kind of pain.

There are lots of things that I choose to do, not necessarily for myself but because it sets a good example for the kids. I despise carrots but I try to eat them when they're on my plate. I sometimes take them out with me when I go running, even when it limits my choices. I get up and clean the house even if I don't feel like it. I'm starting to wonder if prioritizing my friends might fit in that category too. Is there a way that overcoming my own friendship fears can help Monkey?

Music and Poetry

I have very fond memories of Julie Andrews' voice. There's something about her voice that means comfort and warmth. I want to believe that it's from more than just The Sound of Music but most likely my impression is from watching that movie over and over again, trying to mimic the sounds, and wondering if my life would ever be so adventurous and glamorous. The other day I was listening to the radio and heard that Julie Andrews and her daughter would be on the show the next hour, talking about their new children's poetry book. Yay!

I enjoyed listening to Ms. Andrews and her daughter Emma read poetry and tell stories. Some of the poems were wonderfully familiar and some were deliciously new to me. I was so caught up that I went online to Amazon to find the book. Then, in the midst of their storytelling, Ms. Andrews said something that made me catch my breath. She was talking of how poetry became so important to her, that it was a joy and passion of her father and a way of connecting with him, especially after her parents divorced. The interviewer asked Ms. Andrews if she ever became close with her stepfather and the reply was something along the lines of "no. He taught me to sing, but we never became close because that would have been betraying my father." Her stepfather taught her to sing - and singing has been the essence of her whole life and career - but she would not allow a close relationship with him because to do so would have signaled betrayal.

I hope, I hope, I hope that those words are never said about me. Given our custody schedule, Monkey and Peanut spend more time with me than they do their mother. Their lives will undoubtedly be influenced by my actions. I work hard to love them wholeheartedly, as if they were my own. I make the same kind of sacrifices for them that I make for Puddin'. Sometimes we get along swimmingly and sometimes we fight but, they are my children, regardless of what the genes say. So when I hear a line like the one Ms. Andrews uttered, I feel scared. What if the good will we have now doesn't last? Stan and I work hard to communicate that there is room for lots of people to love them and often reiterate that I am not looking to replace their mom. They actually call me their "extra mom." But I know that their mom sometimes feels threatened. She feels left out when I'm able to do special things with them or when I'm there to lead them through a milestone. Sometimes she says things to Monkey & Peanut that causes them feel guilty or that they feel pressures them to choose her over me. All I can do is keep loving them and hope that when they are old enough they can look back and see that there is enough love to go around.

There's an irony in this for me: Ms. Andrews' most iconic role was that of a stepmother, and a darned good one, too. In stepmom lore the woman is always sainted or wicked - there is no neutral or halfway for stepmoms. The Sound of Music presents the archtype for saintly stepmothering. So many women feel pressured and defeated by this imagery and yet the actress who played it had rejected that person in her own life. Her words have unearthed in me a vulnerability that I don't like to look at.

Of course, it goes without saying that I don't know Ms. Andrews or the circumstances of her growing up years. I don't want to judge her. In fact, I'm still as enamored as ever with her voice, I'm still hankering after the poetry book, and I have an irrepressible urge to watch The Sound of Music.

Just what I wanted

Stan had a meeting tonight so in order to have family dinner all together it had to be early - no problem. 2 of the 3 kids had to visit the pediatrician this afternoon - hmmm, this complicates things just a little. Around 3 p.m. I suddenly realized I needed to leave immediately in order to go get gas, pick up the kids, and rush to the doctor's office. I decided to grab some extra books for Monkey & Peanut so they'd have everything they needed to finish their homework during the expected long wait. I checked the diaper bag to make sure there was something to entertain Puddin' and rushed out the door, with a shocked and unhappy toddler. (Transition is KEY these days and she didn't get what she needed.)

We got to the doctor office on time, having found parking much easier than usual. We were called back just about on schedule but as expected we sat in the small exam room for quite some time. The medical tasks that needed to be done were really quick and easy but that didn't get us seen any faster. By the time we left the office - with one kid pronounced free of ear infections or clogged tubes and the toddler wincing from her swine flu shot - it was already time to get dinner on the table. I made a quick call to the fabulous Chinese restaurant near our house and made a blind stab at the menu in my memory. We got home, jumped out of the van and as soon as we entered the house Monkey and Peanut set the table while I pulled dinner out of the bag and Stan tried to convince Puddin' that food was good enough reason to stop crying.

Whew! We were all sitting down to dinner, starting to check in regarding each other's days when we had two spills in quick succession from the younger two kids. Monkey put it nicely when she said "it's not a crisis, just not what you wanted." So very true. Most of us weren't done yet when Stan jumped up to leave. With quick kisses and goodbyes the chaos ramped up a little more. As soon as Stan was out the door, each child found her own way to flip out. Peanut started arguing and talking back. That girl has enough sass in her for all three kids and I don't have the patience for any of it. I sent her to her room with the mandate to finish homework (our long doctor office wait wasn't quite long enough) and to calm down. Then I sent Monkey off to her work space in the basement to finish her own work. She hadn't been down there long when I started to hear anxious calls and cries from downstairs. I peeked in long enough to make sure she wasn't hurt and then remind her that she needs to actually come get me rather than scream across the house. Instead, she simply broke into hysterics. Meanwhile, Puddin' was feeling pain from her shot, anxious because of the chaos in the house, and had been robbed of transition yet again this afternoon. I sat on the floor and built towers for her to knock down and she started to come out of her funk. Monkey finally got up enough nerve to come upstairs and tell me that she found a bug on her back pack. She was afraid to walk by it so she couldn't come upstairs to talk to me. She didn't want to touch her back pack even after it had hopped away just in case. She couldn't possibly do her homework and now she was stuck! "Your foot alone is ten times bigger than the bug." "The bug is worried about the giant that's coming to attack it." "I don't know of a single bug in our neighborhood that could do you any real harm." Each time I'd have her almost calm she'd work herself into a frenzy again. After about 5 minutes of this she finally felt brave enough to face the bug - this time with shoes on. During all this, Peanut finished her homework but wouldn't admit it so she didn't have to come talk to me. I finally got her out of her room and told her that the original thing she was fighting me about was only annoying but talking back - that makes me mad. Talking back to any of your parents is never an acceptable option. We agreed on a consequence of written apology, complete with full sentences, correct capitalization and punctuation.

All three kids were finally back in control and emotionally stable. We were in the home stretch now - I just had to get them clean, ready for bed and down for the night. After showers, Peanut wanted rollers in her hair and Monkey needed some help reviewing for two tests. Puddin', of course, just wanted to be where the action was. So there we were, all four of us crowded into a tiny bathroom barely big enough for two - while I dried and rolled Peanut's hair, ran multiplication facts and weather instruments with Monkey, and babbled with Puddin'. As we were finishing all this (just barely in time for the assigned bed time) it occurred to me that this is the kind of moment that kids remember. It was hectic and vibrant, but in the end it was good. There we were, each child getting a need met and able to meet someone else's need too. Each of us was actively engaged in life together. I never would have guessed it at the start of this afternoon but this evening proved to be one of my prouder moments as a mom.

The Halloween That Wasn't

After a post about Halloween costumes quite some time ago the matter quickly resolved itself and I never brought it up again. We made some adjustments to the custody schedule, which put Monkey & Peanut with their mom for the holiday. She volunteered to take on costumes and from that point on, Stan and I were done. A few of the other kids in the apartment complex were going as characters from Wizard of Oz so Monkey & Peanut joined. The idea was their mom's but they seemed happy to go along. I was proud of them for embracing costumes that were not pretty by nature. We reminded them of how proud they had been of their costumes the year before (when they designed and created them with very little help) and gently encouraged them to do as much work themselves as they could. Turns out that their mom did almost all of it. It also turns out that it wasn't a big deal to them. Hopefully this will be one of those lessons learned - as much as I value creativity and independent action at my house, it doesn't hurt any of us to let someone else do the work every once in a while.

Puddin' was also easy. I found a $2 bear costume at a consignment sale. It's a zip-up vest with a hood so paired with neutral clothing it was an easy and toddler-appropriate costume. She adores the thing and will sometimes ask for her "bear cos" so she can walk around snuggling it. On Halloween night we took her to a grand total of one house and didn't accept any candy. She's certainly not going to eat the candy, her sisters don't need any more than they've got, and it was raining most of the evening. Puddin' took matters into her own hands, however, and went trick-or-treating in our own candy bin. I made her put it all back, which was met with some very appropriate growls.

Kind of Blue

For the last few weeks I've been near the breaking point. Many times I've considered blogging but then reconsidered since it didn't seem prudent to put my real thoughts out there for the world to read. I couldn't come up with anything nice to say so I chose to say nothing. It feels somewhat dishonest to share only the easy stuff but then again, a public forum is so easily misunderstood and misused.

This past weekend Stan and I were able to get away - without any of the kids. [insert big sigh here.] We didn't go far, just over an hour away from home, but there was a pool and a hot tub so it felt like a million miles away from all my cares. We ate fabulous dinners, drank good wine, listened to live jazz. I swam in the pool and soaked in the hot tub. I read a fabulous book - The Man Who Was Thursday - in one day. I even did some of that reading while in the hot tub. It was a GOOD weekend.

In addition to the relaxation, I also found some clarity while away. With time to think and pressure lifted, I was able to get some perspective on all the drama and angst I've been experiencing. Armed with new insight I made an appointment to see a counselor. This man has been a huge help to both Stan and I over the years and his wisdom is precious to me. After sitting with him for an hour I feel more calm, and centered. The nasty voices in my head have been put into perspective. I also got a homework assignment - I've been commissioned to write a blues song. My guitar teacher recently taught me the 12 bar blues so I've got some wailing to do.

I'm grateful for vacation, for wise council, for artistic expression, and for a husband who doesn't think I'm a wacko. There are a lot of things going right right now - how on earth am I supposed to sing the blues?

Good Boy

Puddin' has recently learned to say "good boy" to our dog, Zero. If Stan or I call Zero, Puddin' will call out too and then say "good boy" a few times. Sometimes she'll say it spontaneously, as if that were his name.

Zero is an old dog. He's about 15 years old, arthritic, nearly blind and deaf - but still happy and a joy to be around. Just about a week ago Zero took a significant turn for the worse. Suddenly he was vomiting and shaking. He grew more lethargic every day. He stopped eating and drinking. After a handful of tests the vets were able to tell us that Zero's liver was not functioning and that his gall bladder was seriously diseased. Very expensive surgery could fix it but would only be able to buy him a few more years regardless. Stan and I decided the most humane choice would be to put Zero to sleep.

We told Monkey & Peanut on Tuesday morning that we were taking Zero to the vet, and that the vet would help him die a painless & dignified death. At first they seemed to search for ways to prolong time with him or fix the problem but through their questions they were able to understand what was happening and why. They showed such grace and maturity. All five of us posed for one last picture with our beloved dog. Through their tears they each went off to deal with it in their own way. Monkey drew a picture for Zero and Peanut wrote him a letter. They asked that we take their offerings with us to the vet so that Zero would have something to remember them by.

"I love Zero and he is gowing to hevin. I'll miss him and he is the best dog ever. I have lots of amoshins today. I'm not redy for Zero to diy yet."

Monkey & Peanut were with their mom last night so they haven't experience the house without Zero yet. For the rest of us, there have been plenty of sad reminders. I keep listening for his nails clicking on the hardwood floor, or looking for him to clean up some food Puddin' dropped. When I'm out I think about rushing home to let him out of the basement. Stan, who has known Zero longer than any of us, doesn't have that wagging tail to greet him when he comes home, and doesn't have quiet company first thing in the morning before the rest of us get us. Puddin' is still looking for Zero. She'll look in the places where he often slept and say his name, or sometimes "good boy." Even Tsunami, our cranky cat, is showing signs of missing her friend. She'll occasionally let out a plaintive meow and she's taken to sleeping in some of Zero's old spots.

I'm sure Monkey & Peanut will find their own reminders of our sweet puppy and little memories that sting. I wish there was something I could do to shield them from it; I hate for their lives to be sullied by the pain of losing a good pet. On the other hand, I'm astounded by their capacity to take something like this in and cope with it. It's good to see them dealing with rough emotions in a healthy way. At least there is that silver lining.

We're going to miss you, Zero. You were such a faithful companion for each of us. It was a privilege to have you in our home and we're all grateful to God for giving us that sweet little embodiment of grace and love.

Vroom

It's been a crazy few weeks. Monkey has started ballet, Peanut has started guitar & piano, and Puddin' has started getting bored. Stan is wonderfully brilliant so he's much in demand for committees and meetings on top of his work-a-day job. He's also in a singing group that has started up again for the fall. I'm in the center of this mess, trying to hold it all together.

With Monkey & Peanut I'm trying to motivate them to work quickly but thoroughly so they continue to do well in school, practice instruments/dance so they can enjoy their activities, not to mention clean up after themselves so I don't hide their stuff. Where Stan is concerned I try to pick up the slack so he can focus his attention on the plethora of very good gigs he's gotten himself into. Poor Puddin' gets the short end - she just wants to play, read, snuggle, explore & other wonderful toddler things but her family is not cooperating.

In the midst of all this, we had car trouble. I took the dying car in for some work early on Friday and Stan took the more lovable vehicle to work. Our mechanic always has the car back to us the next day (at the latest) so it was under control. By Monday afternoon we still only had one vehicle and suddenly things got complicated. Stan had a meeting, I had guitar lessons, and we even had a sitter lined up. The "super-mom" in me felt the need to give up on my lesson time for the greater good of the family. The rest of me was screaming something along the lines of "over my dead body." [In all fairness, I must report that Stan offered to stay home from his meeting. I was the one putting pressure on myself, not the wonderful hubby.] After a mini-meltdown and a quick chat with the mechanic we were able to borrow his car and the whirlwind of activity resumed.

Over the next few days, driving around in someone else's car, I was acutely aware of when & why I was driving. I noticed that most of the day-to-day errands for the family I do walking, with Puddin' in the stroller. When I get in the car, though, I'm often doing something that I find personally rewarding. I walk to the grocery store but if I want good bread (which is a treat I adore) I have to drive to one further away. The kids and I walk to school every day but once a week I drive to meet with friends and chat about the goings-on at church. And then there's my guitar lesson - that blessed half-hour a week when it's all about me - which is hard to get to without a car.

I've never been a car person before. I resisted learning to drive for far longer than is normal, and was quite proud during my decade as an urbanite that I was above such things. Now I'm startled to discover that I find freedom in my car. As much as I bad-mouth it, I'm grateful that the peculiar little car is back. Long may it live.

Bewitched & Bewildered

Last year for Halloween we had some great costumes in our family. Two out of the three even won awards at the Fall Festival costume contest. Peanut went as a rockstar - including a child sized studded collar and pink streaks in the hair. Monkey went as a woodland sprite (tree fairy) and made her costume by hand. Puddin', who was quite unaware, was dressed in her white fleecy jacket and went as a sheep.

It's time to start the costume conversation again but this time I may not get much input. If the custody rotation for weekends stays as it currently is then Monkey and Peanut will be with their mom for the festive day. If she's the one taking them trick-or-treating then she'll likely want control over the costumes. I'm not super picky about their costumes, but I do love helping the girls with creative process. I like watching ideas grow and develop in their brains until they have enough ownership over an idea to do the work to make it happen. It's a glorious process to watch. When I get taken out of the loop I worry that the process might be something closer to "which Disney princess would you like to be this year?" I certainly hope not - these girls are far too creative and thoughtful for an easy out like that. I think they're beginning to see some of that so hopefully they'll stand up for their own ideas and come up with something worth showing off to their friends and neighbors.

Now, as for Puddin', I'm still in charge - and it matters more this year. She's old enough to go to a few neighbors houses. She's also old enough to take all her clothes off if she doesn't like the costume I put together. I'm not too keen on the idea of picking something for her but the concept is so new that I'm pretty sure she can't choose for herself. I'm looking forward to the day when I can engage in the same creative process with her and help her express who she wants to be. In the meantime, I welcome easy, toddler-friendly costume ideas. Help please!

Coppola Claret

Coppola Diamond Collection
Claret 2006
California

This wine goes down easy. Rich, smooth, full of tobacco & dark berry flavors. The tannins mellowed almost straight out of the bottle, with little attention from us. The "nose" leaves a lot to be desired but the flavor more than makes up for it. For dinner we paired this with steak (rubbed with pepper) and the Claret stood up to the strong flavors admirably. Sitting around after dinner, the wine is still enjoyable - quite relaxing, actually. A good dinner wine doesn't always sip well or vice versa. It's nice when the wine flows so smoothly through the evening.

Today's wine nerd note: Unlike many U.S. wines, this one is named for the blend rather than the grape. But Claret is already a big clue - it's simply a name for a Cabernet Sauvignon based blend. Often there's some Merlot in there but not necessarily. The term originated with the British and they use it to refer to wines from Bordeaux.

One final note: A big thanks to Glenn & Nancy for giving the bottle to Stan for his birthday!

Pierre Amadieu Côtes du Rhône

"Among the world's great reds, Rhônes are the most untamed. Flavors dart around in them like shooting stars. There are whooshes of sweet earthiness and surges of smoky black fruit. The wines' howling spiciness has no parallel. Rhônes are the wine equivalent of a primal scream."
The Wine Bible, Karen MacNeil

Pierre Amadieu
Côtes du Rhône
Roulpierre
2006

When I first gave a glass to Stan for tasting his response was a surprised look and "that's funky." I'm not sure, but I don't think he meant funky as a compliment. This wine is tart, tangy, spicy, and peppery. It's buzzing with dark cherries and has a dry, minerally finish. Certainly not everyone's cup of tea but I enjoyed it. This wine asks a little more of the drinker - it demands attention - so settling into the couch with a book isn't going to work this time. But if you have the patience to dart through the various zings, you'll be rewarded.

I've never been a huge fan of French wines, mostly because they take so much more knowledge and attention. The wine world over there is so marvelously layered that I have a hard time finding my way around. The "new world" method tells me what grape I'm drinking but when dealing with the old world I have to remember things like French geography. I never studied French geography so this is quite a leap. Lately I've tasted a few wines that make me want to leap. You're welcome to come along, if you like.

The above quote about Rhône wines made me like this wine even more. I like a wine (or region) that won't be pinned down. In my readings I found that there's Northern Rhône and Southern Rhône, which are dramatically different, and never the twain shall meet. Côtes du Rhône, the wine in question, is the only exception. Côtes du Rhône (and it's fancier sibling Côtes du Rhône Villages) is the only wine that can be made in both districts of the region. Côtes du Rhônes is also the only wine that can be made of any grapes in the region, while other appellations must choose from a much smaller subset. Why must the French be so cryptic? I went to Pierre Amadieu's website and found slightly more helpful information. This wine was made in Gigondas, which is in fact Southern Rhône, and was made primarily of grenache and syrah. This wine is of their lowest level, which they call Découvertes - or Discovery (thanks to Google for translation help.)

There's lots more information I could bring up but just one more detail that I found interesting: Côtes du Rhône is often used as a café wine in France. According to French taste, this is a humble wine for everyday drinking. For once, I'm in agreement with the French.

Starting Now

School doesn't start until after Labor Day but due to the summer visitation schedule we're having our last week of summer with Monkey & Peanut. Before they came home today I found myself hoping we could have some relaxing time together without any agenda. That's pretty rare, partly because I don't do so well with just leaving well-enough alone. I like them to be on task, engaged, and learning. Those aren't bad things, by any means, but too much of that structured stuff makes for a stifled childhood.

Not long after getting home, Monkey & Peanut decided to play Mancala but neither remembered the real rules (if they ever knew them.) They were arguing over how to play and who was right. They had decided to give up altogether when I walked into the dining room. Puddin' was happily pushing her stroller around so I stayed to guide them through the rules. I talked them through decisions and helped them figure out strategies. Peanut mentioned that the game is more fun than when she played with her friends. (See - rules and structure CAN lead to fun!) Monkey was captivated by the idea that she had some control, and it wasn't all up to chance. After a successful game they decided to take on the challenge of facing me as a team. They remembered a lot of the strategies we talked about and delighted in trying to trick me. They also managed to work well together and keep good attitudes, which borders on miraculous.

After Mancala they wanted to try a new game so I taught them Crazy 8's. (Puddin' was still happy as a lark putzing about the house or sitting in my lap playing with my cards. She's such a happy toddler.) They caught on pretty quickly and we had a rollicking game. Peanut's attention span isn't quite as developed so she kept drawing when she had a card to play. She got frustrated but with a few reminders she was able to cut the whining and enjoy herself. Luckily for her sake we played open hand so Monkey and I were able to gently guide her to wiser decisions. I had to bend the rules a little towards the end to speed up the play - otherwise we would have been playing all the way up until dinner. I think Monkey and I could have managed that quite easily but the younger two were starting to lose a little patience.

It was a delight to play with the kids. I know how fun they are but I don't always choose to remember. I know how wonderful and good-hearted they are but I don't always allow myself to see it. This is the part of parenting that trips me up over and over again: I have trouble being in the moment that is actually happening right now. I'm always planning ahead, looking forward, searching for ramifications or consequences. I'm missing out on a lot of good things happening around me everyday. There are very good things here in our now. I want to cement these images in my memory so I choose play more often but even that is forward thinking. Instead, I will simply say this - I enjoyed today. Today I love my kids. Today was a good day.

The Prodigal Son

The Prodigal Son
2005 Petite Syrah, Paso Robles
Big House Wines

Ripe, farm-stand berries; mellow tannins and relatively light body; a little bit of crisp finish. The Prodigal Son is a wonderful choice for a casual dinner (we had it with veggie pizza) or for sitting to enjoy a summer evening. The screw-cap makes this a great portable choice. Drink it down quickly, though. Some reds can hold up a few days after opening but this one tastes best right when opened.

Big House makes a range of wines, most of which are good for everyday drinking. Generally, they have been good but not outstanding. Drinking The Prodigal Son has been a surprisingly good experience and now I'm hoping to re-taste the whole line. For some extra fun check out the website. These guys enjoy life and make a point of bringing fun into every aspect of their wine.

Giving up and giving in

We're finally starting to work through the rough transition points and edge back toward the reasonably well-ordered household we are at our peak. One of the transitions we're facing has to do with how Monkey & Peanut interact with Puddin'. Down South, Monkey & Peanut got to man-handle their younger cousins (2 1/2 and almost a year) however they wished. The boys' mom isn't as neurotic on the issue as I am. Monkey & Peanut came back expecting to treat Puddin' the same way. I'm trying hard to trust them with more responsibility and they've agreed to abide by some short term guidelines (there has to be a parent watching if you want to pick her up). It's hard for me to let them make mistakes with my baby. I don't want them making decisions for MY baby. I want to raise her the way I want. When I'm honest with myself I have to admit that part of it is trying to avoid their mom's influence on my daughter as much as possible. It's petty, I know - I'm working on it.

They're also asking for more opportunities like putting Puddin' to bed. No! I'm not ready to give it up yet! I want to keep that to myself! I already have to share with Stan; isn't that enough? During the school year and while they were gone this summer I was Puddin's only consistent playmate. She didn't want to go with anyone else and Mama reigned supreme. Now that Monkey & Peanut are here during the day I don't get to spend much play time with her. She's playing with her sisters nearly every waking moment and delighted by everything they do. I know it's really good for all three of them. I'll also admit that it allows me more time, and keeps me a little more centered in the adult world. I miss being the center of Puddin's world though. All those times that I felt on the outs in my household I comforted myself with the idea that at least one of the kids was with me no matter what.

I've blogged before about the need to get out of the way and let Stan be Dad. By choosing to loosen my grip on Puddin' I allow Monkey & Peanut to work on their own relationships with her. Once again, I find myself pushed to give up what I want for the good of the rest of the family. I have a sneaking suspicion this one is good for me too but I'm not willing to admit that just yet.

Fallen Bread

I used to be an avid bread baker. In a world of just barely post-college kids, that kind of domesticity was unique so I gained a reputation. Folks banded together for one of my birthdays to give me a bread maker and slowly, but surely, I stopped making bread. I love bread - it's one of my top five foods. I love fresh bread, especially; but using a machine took all the fun out for me. There's just something about getting my hands in the dough, massaging and pounding until the texture transforms. It's probably the closest I'll ever get to sculpture, which is a very alluring art form.

Recently I started making bread again. I have an 800 page bread cookbook that talked me into it, despite the soaring summer temps. The last few loaves have been lovely so today I took a detour to wheat bread. It's a little harder to activate the gluten in wheat flour so wheat breads can be quite finicky. This particular recipe was a "batter" bread, which doesn't require kneading. It seemed odd, given the gluten problem, but the book told me to do it; who was I to argue? The lack of kneading already took some of my fun away but it seemed like a good solution since Puddin' was fighting naptime. The dough took much longer to rise than the recipe said - already a bad sign - and then fell during baking. I now have a brick of wheat bread with the density of a sponge and the texture of cardboard. The taste isn't bad but it's got a lot to compensate for and doesn't come close to the task.

I'm going to be on the lookout for ways to repurpose the bread. If you've got any suggestions I'd love to hear them.

A Bit of Bubbly

I was cooking a recipe on Thursday that called for sparkling wine. We have a few bottles on hand, one of which is a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, vintage 1996. (Most Champagne is not vintage specific. They mix grapes from previous years in for blend and quality control.) Vintage Champagne isn't usually a splurge I go for but I got this bottle on deep clearance a few years back. The place I bought the wine isn't one known for it's long-term storage or proper care of the good stuff. We've had quite a few occasions worth celebrating but I never knew if the wine was still any good so I wouldn't take the risk. I decided that our final night as a threesome for the summer was good enough reason to pop it open without much risk.

Yum. Yummmm. I'm not going to try and analyze it for you; all I can say is that folks who obsess over good Champagne are right. I've never been a huge fan of bubbly and now I know it's because I just wasn't drinking the right stuff. Smooth, dry yet still flavorful, subtle fruit, and a tart kick to finish it off. This could get me addicted to the good life, if I weren't so frugal. Some might think that such a fine wine would be wasted on a mundane Thursday, and maybe those folks have a point. But I'm glad I got the chance to celebrate my everyday life with such glorious treat. I hope that you'll find some extravagent (but not costly) way to celebrate the good in your life too.

They're coming back tomorrow!

Today has been incredibly quiet and peaceful. Puddin' has been an absolute delight. My mom came over to play with Puddin' and help me get the house ready for everyone's return but even our flurry of cleaning was still calm. (Thanks for your help, Ma!) The stories I heard from down South were not calm - lots of loud laughter, cavorting, hamming it up, etc. Slightly tearful goodbyes but mostly just folks enjoying each other. There's a part of me that loves days like today. I can't maintain sanity without them. But I'm looking forward to having my wild and crazy girls back in the house (not to mention my handsome hubby.) I gladly trade a little sanity for having all five of us under one roof again.

It turns out that for much of August Monkey and Peanut will be with their mom so Stan and I are only getting them back for short doses. I know she has a right to time with them and I certainly don't begrudge her time with her kids - I just forgot to factor that into my plans. Here I've been dreaming of all the things we're going to do and we'll be doing well to get through a tenth of them. They are such loveable girls, everyone wants a piece of them. I'm grateful I get a turn but like a good potato chip, I'm left wanting more. Once school starts we'll be back to routine; that routine gets me daily hugs, lots of stories, and snacktime.

New Shoes

Yesterday I finally broke down and bought new running shoes. My knees, ankles, and shins have been begging for them for a while but the shoes that fit my skinny little feet are not a payless purchase. This morning I went for my first run with the new shoes. I had hoped that the shoes would carry a level of excitement all their own and offer some extra oomph. It didn't turn out that way.

A few months ago I set up a plan in which I HAVE TO run every Monday, Wednesday, & Friday. I usually take Puddin' in the jogging stroller and sometimes have Monkey & Peanut on their bikes. On rainy days I still have to go out but I get the luxury of going by myself. This is the first time in my life that I've been able to keep up a consistent exercise plan for any length of time and I'm pretty proud of myself for the endeavor so far.

At the beginning of the summer I was running a lovely little loop through the neighborhood past some gorgeous lawns and under lots of trees. I like this route a lot but it's too short. I made the decision that fitness demands more mileage so I went back to a longer route I've run in the past that is down a more major road with more traffic and little natural beauty to encourage me. Since making this shift I have been an unhappy runner. I'm still going three times a week but I don't want to. Let's do that again but this time imagine it with full whine - but I don't want to! This is not sustainable.

My shiny new shoes helped a little today. Running without aches helps relieve both physical and mental stress on the matter. Given my love of shoes, though, I had expected a bigger boost of motivation. This problem is bigger than shoes can fix and I'm currently at a loss. Any suggestions?

Auto Moto

Fabulous car, isn't it? We're driving later this week but not in quite this kind of style. Somehow I don't see the classic car as our best choice for the half day journey with a load of kids.

We're traveling back down South to pick up Monkey & Peanut! I'm so excited to see them again. When all is said and done, I'm willing to give up my (glorious) moments of quiet in order to have those two within reach of a snuggle. I'm not, however, so excited about the trip. Puddin' has started resisting her car seat even for short trips. She wants to walk and run and will puncture the eardrums of anyone who tries to tie her down. The poor dear has to endure the long journey twice in three days and it might be more than our usually easy going kid can take. I wonder if there's a patron saint of long car rides?

In honor of our trip (and thanks to a sale at the grocery store) I'm drinking Auto Moto Cabernet Sauvignon 2005. I'm not afraid of dry wines but here the tannins are noticeably harsh so the wine feels more dry and cottony than I'm comfortable with. With the aftertaste, it does mellow out a little and I find a hint of leathery taste that goes so well with steak. Assessment: Drinkable so if it's on sale and you're grilling go for it. It's probably not worth full price and is not likely to impress dinner guests.

I hope the trip is better than the wine.

Post Script: I went upstairs from writing this post and found Stan pouring over airline websites. After talking things through we found a reasonable option: Stan will be flying back with Monkey & Peanut, while Puddin' and I wait at home. A rather boring end to the story but a much happier one for most.

Sidewalks

For over a decade I lived in a major US city. I moved around to various neighborhoods - some good, mostly not - but made a point to stay within the city limits. I considered myself to be a city girl. I felt that I had made the better choice. "You see," the line went, "urban is great and rural has its merits but the suburbs are trying to have the best of both worlds and ending up with the worst of it all." Fast forward a few years and I live in the suburbs, white picket fence and all. While I love my home there has been a little nagging voice telling me that I settled.

Earlier this week I had a very cranky toddler on my hands. I had tried all my tricks so I decided we would go on an adventure. I took Puddin' downtown to a shopping thoroughfare where we'd have lots of new sights and sounds, not to mention a little bit of the pier. I'd also have a taste of that urban life that I used to love so much. After just a few hours in that world again I've come to the conclusion that there is an almost insurmountable difference between single-gal-in-the-city and stroller-brigade.

The sidewalks in this part of downtown were narrow and uneven. Folks begrudgingly moved out of the way of the stroller but only after giving us dirty looks. Eating lunch in a noisy cafe, we were pariahs. Even with all the noise the normal patrons produced, people cringed and shot condescending looks every time Puddin' made a noise. There were no automatic doors and very few volunteers to hold them open while I maneuvered the stroller through. None of the public spaces were toddler safe so Puddin' was stuck in the stroller almost the whole trip. Our search for a changing table took too long so when we finally returned to the van, dejected, Puddin' had sprung a leak. Where I once felt emboldened by urban life I instead felt beaten down. We returned to our home and routine, much worse for the wear.

The next morning Puddin' and I went for our usual run through the neighborhood. The sidewalks are wide enough for the bulky jogging stroller with room to spare for a passerby. Still, folks out walking their dogs will move over to the grass to make room and wave or give a friendly hello. People working in their yards will call out encouragement - especially when I've got Monkey & Peanut along too. Sometimes a neighbor out for her walk will fall in step and travel with us part of the way. On this particular day I forgot my keys and cell phone. Stan left for work while we were out and dutifully locked up. (It's a good neighborhood but not that good.) One neighbor let Puddin' and I in to use the phone. They offered their house for as long as we needed it and invited us to the breakfast table. Then the neighbor who keeps our spare key got home and gave us a quick tour of the remodel he and his wife are doing while he searched for the key. In less than an hour I had enough uplifting interactions to erase the downers from the day before.

I suppose with practice I could probably adjust to the life of urban mom but I'm grateful I don't have to. I have shed my city girl disguise and have emerged as a happy suburban housewife. Ain't life grand?

Orogeny

Orogeny Chardonnay 2006
Green Valley of Russian River Valley
World Market for about $10

Note: The photo you see is obviously not of a wine. It's not even the place where the wine was grown. This picture shows an example of the geological phenomenon orogeny; specifically, King Oscar Fjord in Greenland. I've never wanted to go to Greenland but I think I do now. You can read more about orogeny and how it's relevant to the wine at Orogeny Vineyards.

Now back to the wine. Some Chardonnay is heavy or viscous but this one is light and delicate. There are hints of lemon chiffon and pineapple which settle gently on the tongue rather than smack it around. When serving with food be careful not to pair Orogeny with spices that might over power. We served it with hummus veggie wraps and the combination was delightful.

What's it Worth to You?

I was up too late last night. As is often the case, I was up too late finishing a murder mystery. Stan has remarked that I chew through books (which is a habit I developed from my mother.) Like the nutritional value in food, books have varying levels of good they bring. Murder mysteries are potato chip books. So tasty, inviting, and hard to quit. I love both the books and the chips but inevitably, when I've let one of them take over my will, I end up asking whether it was really worth it.

I'm also reading some non-fluffy books in my temporary respite from mothering. I'm re-reading French Women Don't Get Fat which boils so many daily choices down to that simple question: Is it worth it to you? You can have the big bowl of ice cream (the flavor your kids picked which doesn't honestly taste all that great) but are you really enjoying it? What's the point of drinking wine with your dinner if you don't take the time to savor it? You can buy lots of mediocre veggies and then cover them in fatty sauce but wouldn't it be better to buy the fresh stuff and then enjoy it as simply as nature intended?

That question seems to be at the crux of so many things for me these days. I could read this book that doesn't do much for me (and isn't well written) but is it worth what am I giving up? I could turn on the tv to wash away my worries but what would happen if I instead turned to my guitar or paints?

I'm a big fan of reading just for the pleasure of it; I find great entertainment in some tv shows; I adore potato chips. I don't want any of those things to be cleansed from my life entirely but I hope to be more intentional and honest with myself about my choices. I want to strive for what is good rather than settle for what it acceptable. I want to fill my life with things that are worth it. I want to set a good example for my kids of what a life well lived looks like. More than that, though, I want to live a life that nurtures my soul and allows me to flourish, whatever I face.

Red Guitar

I've been trying to write about this wine for a few days but I've spilled my glass not once but twice. Before this week I don't know when the last time I spilled a glass of wine was but here I've done it twice in one week. And for those wondering, I'd barely tasted when either of these accidents happened so it can't be blamed on the alcohol. I'm left pondering the possible message from the gods and my poor husband is ready to ban me from sitting on any of the nice furniture. So it is with embarrassment that I press forward with the review.

Red Guitar 2007
Old Vine Tempranillo Garnacha
Navarra, Spain
about $8

The label is cute. The website is catchy. The wine is refreshing. In some ways I'm grateful for the difficulty I've had in assessing the wine properly because it's the kind of wine that just wants to be loved. Taking a sip, I can hear the guitarist urging me to relax; submit to the wine, the music and the night. Tonight I'm going to take my glass outside and listen to the sounds of summer. I'll be enjoying the wine rather than thinking about it, which is all that Red Guitar ever wanted from me anyway.

If the dress fits

A friend of mine just got engaged this week, which happens to be the very same week that I finally started working on my wedding album. I had already been digging through piles so when she told me the news I had plenty of checklists and magazines to share. I get to de-clutter a little, she might find some useful info. It may not be exactly win-win but it's not a bad deal either. She and I are also about the same size and height so she tried on my wedding gown. This was the first gown she'd put on so she had that I'm a bride glow about her. She may or not borrow it for her wedding but it was the sharing that was fun.

Then, at her insistence, I tried on my dress. Ooo, I love that dress. I also love that I still fit into it. I love the way it swooshes around. I love the tiny waist it provides. Being back in that dress was a little like putting on an old skin (ew, gross analogy.) It felt good to put on that tangible reminder of my own past and find that it still fits who I am today.

Oak Grove Chardonnay

Oak Grove Chardonnay
2007 Reserve
California
about $8

Oak Grove Chardonnay is a good choice to have on hand for whenever you need a white table wine. The diversity of flavor will match the majority of dishes. It's not going to knock your socks off but it will suit most needs admirably.

The first flavor I noticed was surprisingly sweet - like toasted marshmallows - followed by flavors of grapefruit and apricot. As a sipping wine it's a little too confused for my enjoyment but the odd combination allowed the wine to match wonderfully with dinner (broiled catfish with a mustard & basil sauce, cucumber tomato salad, sauteed kale.)

For the geekier among you: Wine Spectator recently did a report on California Chardonnay (as they do every year.) Some of the appellations received excellent reviews almost across the board so I did a little digging to see where this wine came from. According to Oak Grove's website the grapes are sourced from California's "cool appellations." I'm not quite sure what they mean by that; it sounds like they're hiding something. I didn't really expect much pedigree from this producer but it would have been fun to use some of that knowledge for the post. I guess I'll just have to keep drinking.

The Tide is Out

Our family dynamic has some ebb and flow built into it. Monkey and Peanut come and go between our house and their mom's. Our house is their primary residence so having a total of five is our norm but they are gone often enough that we have a routine for when they are gone too.

Moms, especially the stay-at-home variety, don't usually get days off but this fluctuation in numbers gives me some days of relative leisure. (There are a few good things about co-parenting with the ex.) I usually look forward to the quiet house, the chance to run errands with just one child, the freedom to focus on my own development, and on giving undivided attention to Puddin'. These are good days for me. Then Monkey and Peanut come back, either the next day or after the weekend, and that's good too. Puddin' loves her sisters and follows them around the house giggling. I love working with Monkey and Peanut on projects in the kitchen, listening to their stories, and generally enjoy the company.

This past weekend Stan and I drove Monkey and Peanut to their grandparents' house down South and left them there for the whole month. I've had the normal day with our smaller family and I keep thinking about when Monkey and Peanut get here later today; I remind myself they're not coming. I know they're having a wonderful time with extended family: swimming lessons, rehearsing plays, tending the garden, making pompoms, walking the dog. I know this time is very, very good for them. I also know that this time has great potential for our smaller family. Stan and I have more flexible time. We can do projects around the house, more easily go on dates, take a few day trips - our July list is very long. But as much as I love quiet and freedom, I miss those girls. I look forward to the return of natural flow at the end of the month, when the tide comes back in, bringing its wealth of possibilities.

MAN Shiraz

MAN Vintners
Shiraz 2007
South Africa
under $10, of course

I'm used to Australian Shiraz with really big fruit that attacks the palate in unsophisticated but pleasant ways. MAN Vintners Shiraz isn't like that it all. The taste was so far from what I expected that if it hadn't been for the screw cap I might have said the bottle was corked. This wine has a wonderful musty flavor to it - kind of mushroomy. After reading a little about the growing conditions I understand much more clearly. The vines for this shiraz grow in slate soil, which gives the grapes plenty of character and depth.

While the initial taste is delightful the finish is not as impressive. After the wine goes down the flavor dilutes and goes a little murky. It's not bad, it's just lackluster. Honestly, this is where many value wines show their faults so I certainly don't fault MAN Vintners on the matter - I just wish it were different. The solution to this little problem is to drink more, which I will certainly be doing both tonight and in the future.

A couple of Cinderellas

This has been a rough week at our house. It's the first full week of summer vacation so we're all getting used to the new routine and to spending so much time together. We had a family meeting to come up with rules of conduct and a chore list. Both Monkey & Peanut contributed and agreed. It was a lovely pedagogical event. Since then, both Monkey & Peanut are acting as if the documents - which are hanging on the fridge - don't exist. This makes for not-at-all-lovely events around the house.

They wanted to make potions and marinades and other such things mixing water with greenery outside. "Sure - just make sure you clean up when you're done." They tried to carry the dripping containers covered in wet leaves back into the house. "It's the best we could do!" I sent them back out with a roll of paper towels. I'm wicked.

They love to change clothes multiple times a day. We don't usually let them, since the burden of laundry falls exclusively on me. During the summer Monkey & Peanut agreed to be totally responsible for their clothes so that they can change clothes at will. They're headed out of town for the weekend with their mom and asked if I'm going to wash their clothes while they're gone. "Hmmm ... no." So today they're washing, drying and folding in the midst of all their playing. They're upset at the disruption and angry that I'm making them finish it all before they leave today. Wicked, wicked stepmother.

All the step-parenting books out there say not to step into disciplinary roles, which should be saved for the biological parents. We can't very well do that around here so I find myself fighting a constant PR battle. "I love you. I like you. I want good things for you. Now go clean your room." This week I've been so frustrated - "Don't provoke your sister. We don't pour water on the basement carpet. Yelling during naptime is not acceptable." - and I'm losing that PR battle. They don't like me much this week. Mommy & Daddy are, of course, perfect parents who would never make them pick up their toys or clean a bathroom. "Life would be better if you would just go away. Leave Puddin' here though - we like her."

A few hours later, when they've played happily for a little while, they're excited to invite me into their play. All is pushed aside even if it isn't actively forgiven. Sometimes that fickle love can work to my advantage. Maybe someday, when we've gotten through the drama and are all mature adults, I'll take some time to re-write the fairytale from the stepmother's perspective. I wonder if maybe she's not as bad as the kid makes her out to be.

Farallon Chardonnay

Today's wine is Farallon Central Coast Chardonnay 2006. Once again, under $10, which is our general price point for every day dinner wines these days.

The wine has a tangy - almost fizzy - character to start. After being in the mouth for a minute the feel mellows a bit and the tart green apple and taste comes through. Honestly there's not much remarkable about the wine. It went nicely with our dinner (turkey with mustard tarragon sauce) which is all we asked of it. On a hot summer day, it soothes adequately but I'm still not likely to seek it out in the future. Of course, to be fair, this is a little late for a 2006 chard of this quality. Maybe the more recent vintages would present more pleasantly. I read at least one glowing review for the 2007 - maybe they know something I don't.

I don't know anything about this label so I went online for some background info on the folks making the wine. An hour on Google and I still don't know any more than I started with. Nobody seems to claim this wine. That mystery intrigues me more than the wine itself. Let me know if you find any clues.

P.S. At my husband's suggestion I checked out Microsoft's new search engine, Bing. (Fabulous home page fun, btw.) Two minutes brought me this little tidbit - Farallon is owned by Pacific Wine Partners which owns a lot of other value brands. They have a list of "celebrated brands," many of which I enjoy, but they don't list Farallon anywhere on their very limited site. I can't find dates on any of the info so I wouldn't consider this definitive data. Still, we do have a winner here - score one point for Microsoft and Bing.

The Day Alone

Monkey & Peanut are with their mom this weekend so Stan and I had the opportunity for some relatively relaxed time. I mentioned the possibility of enjoying time without any kids, not intending to do anything about it, but the idea stuck with me. Every once in a while I'll get to do some errands by myself so I ran through the mental list of household needs. I just couldn't take a day of shopping this weekend so that was out. The bird sanctuary near our house is usually a good spot but I know it well and I was hoping for something more exploratory. Then suddenly I knew I wanted to go downtown to the National Gallery of Art.

I asked Stan if he wanted to go but he wanted to play with his new computer. I asked if he wanted me to take Puddin' but we both agreed that she would be better off playing at home than riding around in the stroller. I hesitated and realized I was reluctant to go by myself. What? I used to adore eating alone at restaurants and taking myself to a movie. But I've become so accustomed to having someone around at all times that I've lost the ability to be alone. That was when I knew that I had to go on this little mission.

I metro'ed downtown (which had its own set of issues - track maintenance in tourist season?,) walked through the pouring rain, and then settled into the gallery. It took me a while to get into an adult mindset. I spend so much of my time filtering experiences/words/ideas to make them understandable to children that I tend to look at everything that way. In all honesty I did still come away with a handful of summer kids' art ideas inspired by the art I saw. You can take the mama out but ...

The details of what I saw don't seem quite so important as the fact that I went. [I did see some lovely art: I'm reassured by the curvaceous women Degas used as his models. Rodin's Thinker has a funny hat-like thing on his head. Matisse did some wonderfully creative work with scraps of paper while recovering from surgery.] The thing I came away with is that it's possible. Freedom is not lost. My wonderful husband gladly took charge of Puddin' for the day because he loves me. He fell in love with an independent woman who, among many other attributes, finds inspiration in artistic expression of many sorts. He wants me to still be that person and will support me in whatever way he can.

Another important lesson of the day is that sometimes I need to get out of the way. Stan is an incredible dad to all three of his girls. He was doing a splendid job as single dad before I came along and hijacked the child care dutites. Puddin' adores her father and he loves her. She cried a little when I left but recovered and the two of them had a great day. Sometimes I need to make myself scarce so they get that needed daddy/daughter time.

I'm grateful for the inspiration floating through my brain, the ideas for paintings, songs (and kids' crafts) that will fill the summer days. I'm grateful for the chance to wander the city at my own pace, following my own inclinations. I'm grateful for renewed joy at being alone. I'm grateful for my fabulous husband. Happy Father's Day Stan.

Herding Cats

Before my glamorous life as a mom I worked in the wine business. I don't miss going to the office every day but I miss being in that world. I miss the first sip of an unfamiliar wine. I miss swishing and sniffing, detailing the faint flavors and aromas that hit my senses. Since this blog is an attempt at keeping my distinct identity it makes sense - to me at least - that I "review" the wines Stan and I are having here in our house.

Herding Cats, Merlot/Pinotage 2007
South Africa
Imported by Underdog Wine Merchants
Purchased at Total Wine for under $10

I have to admit I picked this one for the name. I'm not usually so swayed by labels but given how I spend my days, I was drawn to this one. Dinner tonight involved a peppered roast so I chose what I thought would be a very robust wine. My first sips with dinner were disappointing. The flavor was ok but thin. The wine couldn't quite hold up to the strong tastes in the main course and I found myself wishing I'd gone for something more classic like a malbec or a CA merlot.

Now that the kids have gone to bed I'm returning to the wine. As an end of the day sipper I'm enjoying it more. The first thing I notice is a bright acidity that comes from the Pinotage portion. It's not overly fruity, with slightly metallic overtones. After savoring for a moment the Merlot kicks in. It's almost like having the sub-woofer suddenly turn on - without warning there's a thumping down low, with nice (albeit immature) tannins to bring in some balance.

Overall it's a decent wine. Not a show-stopper but a nice everyday wine. Word to the wise - when pairing with food think more along the lines of a strong Pinot Noir than of Merlot. It might also be worth noting that this company has a number of value wines, both imported and domestic, that have surprised me.

(Please note that the picture, which I borrowed from Underdog's site, is of the Chenin Blanc/Chardonnay, not of the Merlot/Pinotage.)

Last Day of School

The time when Monkey and Peanut are at school is my productive time. I can get housework done, catch up on email, play guitar, go for a run, or any number of things. It's a little hampered by Puddin' but she's fairly cooperative so most of the time I can get through my list. Today, however, is the last day of the school year. I have a mere 3 hours today and then we're a gaggle of four all day long.

I'm looking forward to certain things - no homework to monitor, for one. I'm also looking forward to museum trips, science experiments, reading together, bike rides, and on and on. What I'm not looking forward to is pulling in the reins. The kids - Monkey in particular - tend to get destructive if they're not bounded by structure. A day at home with them becomes a constant race to stay one step ahead of their activities. If they get bored before I get to them then they decide to cut something to bits or dig up the flowers or wrestle a sister to the ground on the concrete. I become weary from the constant monitoring and get grumpy. They get annoyed at my grumpiness and start to act out. Puddin' gets stressed out by the stress and clings ever tighter. It's not a pretty sight.

Don't get me wrong - it's not all bad. On good days they make fabulously creative toys out of cardboard, spend hours exploring the yard with magnifying glasses, volunteer to help with the housework, and read to their baby sister. On those days I often find myself sitting back, watching what wonderful people they are, grateful for the honor of being in their lives.

I sent the girls to bed last night, myself dreaming of relaxing summer days. This morning was more the unpleasant sort, though. I hope I can muster enough energy to make this afternoon lovely and laid-back. With a little luck and a little prayer, maybe I can pull it off. Ready or not, summer is here.

How did this happen?

I woke up at 5:45 this morning to the sounds of Puddin' wailing. I jumped up in vain hopes that if I got to her quick enough maybe no one else would wake up. I briefly considered trying to coax the darling to go back to sleep but then she signaled her desire for food and milk - so much for sleep.

Puddin' and I sat on the kitchen floor playing the quiet game for a minute or two when in walked Stan. He started the coffee, let out Zero, and started conversation. Around 6:00 Monkey and Peanut were moving about, and Tsunami was howling. By 6:15 everyone was dressed and just like that we were off and running.

I'd love to tell you that this was a big trip day, or that this is out of the ordinary. I'd even settle for telling you how graciously I've adapted to this wrinkle in my life. Instead I usually sit and pout. I drink my coffee in the midst of chaos rather than my preferred peace and brood woefully on the fact that I am outnumbered.

I'm introverted, quiet, serious. I am independent. I crave solitary contemplation and study. I'm also married with two gorgeous step-daughters, a precocious toddler, a dog and a cat. I'm outnumbered.

There's a multitude of mom blogs out there, with subcategories for step and blended and such. I don't pretend that I have some great wisdom that makes mine worth adding to the list. Honestly, I don't know if I'll even make it public. My reason for writing is simply to stake my claim, to stand my ground, to try to keep my sense of self and my sanity in the midst of loving these voracious minds and hearts. I love my family and I love my life. Mama just needs a little space.