My handsome son!

Our cousins sent us some hand-me-downs in the mail along with Christmas presents.

This is a wonderful thing because, as you may remember, my goal in life is to never buy my children clothes.

Here's our Benjamin, age two and a half, in his new suit. Notice he is holding his "cool" and is deliriously happy.



Here he is again!

I just played an entire Oratorio!

Yes!

I did!

Not all in one sitting. And, sadly, not for an audience.

But I still think it's pretty cool.

I'm in-between Christmas Concert Season and Spring Festival Season (which they now call Large Group Performance Evaluation, sheesh), so I have nothing, musically, to work on right now.

I own the entire orchestral reduction for Handel's Messiah, and over the last week, started on page one and went all the way through until eventually I got to page 250 at the end.

I didn't realize how much of it I was not familiar with. We performed a good chunk of it in College Concert Choir, and I've played most of the arias myself For No Real Reason, but there was a lot in there I didn't know.

So!

Now I'm kinda itching to get the score to Mozart's Requiem and trying that one next. I wish they had stuff like that at the library.

What makes someone a good cook?

I had the pleasure, this past weekend, of hearing both my mother-in-law and my mother say that I was a good cook.

I really liked hearing that.

It does sort of amuse me, though, to be called a "good cook," because in a way, I still feel like I can't cook at all.

Yeah, I "make food." But I feel like I don't cook.

I can't trussel a chicken and have never even stuffed one. I've never wrapped filet mignons in bacon. I don't know what it means to "braise" something. I've never made a yeast bread, except in the machine with a boxed mix. I mean, come on.

For example, here's the recipe for what my mother-in-law was enjoying this weekend:

Mix together cream-of-something soup, a half cup of chicken broth, some minced garlic, and a packet of Italian salad dressing mix. Pour it in a crockpot Throw in a hunk of frozen chicken. Turn switch to low.
Six hours later, show up again, shred the chicken with two forks, stir in a block of cream cheese, and set to high. Boil some noodles, and bring it all to the table. Meanwhile, tear open a bag of salad with your teeth and stick a bottle of salad dressing on the table next to it.

I mean, seriously, does that even count as cooking??

I didn't invent this recipe; I just read it somewhere and did it. What exactly am I "good" at here? Opening the can of soup? Tearing open the salad dressing packet?

So I'm wondering:

What, exactly, makes someone a "good cook"? Is it just the fact that I do cook at all that earns me that title (assuming you can even consider what I do to be cooking)? I'm wondering if there are adults out there who do less "cooking" than I even do, which is kind of scary if it's true.

I'm thinking that if I am, in fact, a good cook, then all it takes is owning a good cookbook or two. And actually opening them up occassionally, I suppose.

Any thoughts?

No time to read, but ...

I remember back when my oldest child was about nine or ten months old, I thought it was a little odd when women said they couldn't find time to do anything after they had children.

Back then, I remember working on concert pieces [I am a free-lance accompanist] while Rachael played on the floor nearby. I organized and labeled photos while she napped in the afternoon, and I did a Variety of Things after I put her to bed at night.

Then I had two kids.

And then three.

And now I don't have time to do anything either.

One thing I miss is reading. I was so proud of myself that I read I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb, a 900-page novel, when Rachael was a baby.

Since Rebecca (Number Two) was born over five years ago, I think I have read less than ten novels -- none of which are 900 pages long -- including:

The Curious Incident Involving the Dog in the Nighttime (or something like that). I forget the author.

A Ladder of Years by Anne Tyler

The Amateur Marriage by Anne Tyler

a few books by Elizabeth Berg ... one I liked, a couple I didn't.

Anyway. The point of all this is to say that, even though I don't get to read much on my own, I do at least get to read a lot with the oldest two, which is not quite the same, but still good in its own way.

I made a list of what we've read together since around August (basically, the "school year" so far) and was impressed at how much there was:


Ramona the Pest by Beverly Clearly

Mrs Piggle-Wiggle by Betty MacDonald

Hello, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle by Betty MacDonald

Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's Magic by Betty MacDonald

Charlotte's Web by EB White

Mr. Popper's Penguins (can't remember the author)

The Chocolate Touch (can't remember the author)

Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder

On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren

Pippi Goes on Board by Astrid Lindgren

Pippi in the South Seas by Astrid Lindgren

Betsy's Winterhouse by Carolyn Haywood

C is for Cupcake by Carolyn Haywood



Right now we are in the middle of Seven-Day Magic by Edward Eager, which they are a little young for, but seem to be enjoying. Hopefully we'll read it again, or they'll read it themselves, again in a few years.

When we finish that, I'm hoping to read Here Comes the Bus by Carolyn Haywood.

I have read part of The Secret Garden with Rachael, which we both like a lot, but Rebecca is too young for it, and won't sit still for it, and it's hard for me to find regular time to read to just one kid. We had the same problem with the Little House books. (I will also confess -- and I had the same experience when I read them myself as a kid -- that the Little House books tend to put me to sleep.)

Becca particularly liked the Pippi books.

The child who puts me over the edge

I wonder if most parents have this ...

I have One Child who is the one who Drives Me Crazy Most. (If you know us personally, you probably know who it is.)

Said Child just makes me livid sometimes in a way the others don't. It probably has at least as much to do with me as it does with Said Child.

Maybe God sends you offspring like that to force you to deal with certain ... uh, weaknesses, in yourself?

I have been having a Tough Day with This Child. One insight I do have -- although I often don't actually listen to my own insight -- is that the times I most want to whack and scream at This Person are the times when He or She most needs my cuddles and hugs and calmness.

Over two hundred dollars for groceries??

I must be doing something wrong when I go to the grocery store.

But I'm not sure what it is.

Yesterday I went to Publix -- yes, with all three kids -- and we ended up spending $234.

What's even more amazing is that the receipt said that I saved $31 by buying sale items.

In addition, the milk, apple juice, eggs, orange juice, sour cream, cream cheese, diapers, rice, and kidney beans were all generic items.

It would make sense if I weren't going back to the grocery store for almost another month. But I can pretty much guarantee you that I'll need to go back within a week, or sooner, for milk and fruit, if nothing else.

No, I don't use coupons. I'm one of those people who sort of "doesn't believe in coupons." That probably sounds stupid. But really, in my experience, most coupons in the paper or for things we shouldn't be buying anway, and/or that would be almost as cheap if I bought the generic version instead.

Any ideas? Is this crazy compared to your own grocery bill? (There are five people in our family.) Are groceries just expensive no matter what you do?

Rachael's MRI

Some of you may be wondering why Rachael, age 7, had an MRI last week, and if that means Something Hideous.

If you know her personally, you know that she walks on her toes almost all the time. Sometimes people comment that it's cute.

After literally years of us going around trying to decide if it's something she'll outgrow, something we should do PT for (which we tried and were dismissed, saying it wouldn't work), something she should be nagged about, etc, I finally took her to an orthopedic, who said nothing would improve it other than surgery and casting. In her case, time would only make it worse.

Which was, frankly, a relief after all this debating.

He added that he wanted her to see a neurologist to see if something in that area is causing it. That's the doctor who ordered the MRI. I don't have the results yet, but he said he expected it to be normal.

Rachael is scheduled for her surgery and casting, on both feet, at the end of the month. She will have to wear a cast on both legs for about a month, then leg braces for about a year. (So we can practice saying in a southern accent, "Run, Rachael, run!")

I'm not really thrilled about any of this, but I am glad it's finally going to be taken care of.

It's funny, in a way she won't seem like Rachael anymore without walking on her toes.