Anger Management January 30, 2007

Keely is my 8 year old and she has anger issues.  It’s something we continually must work on.  It’s not that she doesn’t have a right to be mad sometimes – it’s how she handles it.  Either harsh ugly words, total disrespect and rudeness, and/or physical reactions emerge.   The sibling fights between she and her 12 year old sister are intense.  Keely totally discredits herself when she lets the issue at hand get to her and cause in her, an inappropriate reaction.  Having to consistently and constantly re-direct her behavior wears me out!  I try to help her realize her choices and respond, not react.  This weekend, I was incredibly frustrated with her and trying to prepare for a family event at the same time.  I didn’t have the time or the energy to have a 1 on 1 anger management session with her.  For a momentary solution, I asked her to go calm down by herself for a few moments and then to write about anger. 

Here is what she had to say: 

Anger

Anger makes me feel mad.  

 And anger makes me loose my tempure.

And I get fusterrated and I loose control and hit peaple. 

 I also yell at them. 

 But I need to stop doing that and use my words.  And stop that nonsence. 

Anger is not good for me. 

 I need to start bing sweet and keep my tempure. 

 It’s not good for me. 

So this is the last thing I need to say is stop use your anger aginst people and your self.  

Keep your tempure!

Sorry Mom and Dad.

Love Keely 

******************

Very simplistic, yet very, very true.  It makes me wonder how many grown adults could benefit from having to think about their anger.  Maybe if they thoughtfully encouraged themselves, as Keely has, to keep their tempers, they could create a pause in which to examine the anger before they moved on. Imagine how different the world would be if everyone heeded that advice.  The innocent knowledge of a child can be quite powerful and can put us all in our place. 

Keely was also asked to think of ways she could respond and manage her anger instead of acting out against others with ugly words and gestures.  This is what she came up with:

1. Walk away

2. Use your words

3. Inore the person

4. Pray for your life if your with Mar

*************

Okay, it was fairly helpful until the end (Mar is her big sister).  I personally feel like it was relatively insightful for an 8 year old and at least demonstrates she has a pretty good understanding of the issue. 

And her last statement…well, at least she acknowledges her weaknesses and what pushes her buttons.  We could all benefit from doing this for ourselves from time to time. 

These time-out writings of my 2nd grade daughter gave me plenty to think about.  I’m sure that many of us could use the opportunity to think about such things more often. 

Thank you Keely, for your honesty, your openness, and your willingness (most of the time) to work on these issues! 

The Art of Caring January 26, 2007

Many of the blogs I’ve visited in the last few days and comments I have made have all related to healthcare in some way.  Following suit, my post today is pieces from an article I wrote several years ago describing what I do and why I do it in the nursing world.  It was designed for a “Teen Room” section on a promotional web page, giving teens the opportunity to explore different careers.  It still applies and speaks to the things I love about nursing.

Using talents to care for children
 I have always known I wanted to work with children. Some of my first memories are playing “mommy” and “daycare.” At first, I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, but over the years I explored other careers in child care. I was strong in math and science, so I started to explore careers that would use these talents. I decided I wanted to become a pediatrician, but after two years of college, I realized this was not the right path for me.

I still wanted a career that would combine science, math and my love of children. Nursing seemed like a natural choice, so on a leap of faith I dropped all my other classes. Two years later, I graduated from the University of Tennessee with a degree in nursing.

While I was in school, part of my training included rotations, which allowed me to experience nursing in different environments. I was able to do my pediatric rotation in a children’s hospital, and I fell in love with the children, the organization, the place and the philosophy of care. I can honestly say I have used part of the mission statement, “Because children are special,” as a personal theme for the past 13 years.

After receiving my degree, I began a job as a graduate nurse in pediatrics. I am so grateful for that opportunity to fulfill my dream of working with children. The pediatric hospital is a cheerful and pleasant environment, even though many of our patients are very sick. We have a philosophy of specialized care for children, and we create a special environment where children get unique physical and emotional care.

A typical day for a pediatric nurse might consist of caring for four to five patients ranging from infants to teens. A nurse will make sure patients and their families understand the care they are receiving and any procedures they may have. It is important to continually educate patients to make sure they feel comfortable while visiting the hospital. A good nurse is a figure of trust, knowledge and communication for patients and families.

I love the relationships I am able to form with the children and the great trust they have in those caring for them. I firmly believe in maintaining a respect for how much control patients and their families give to us. I always try to think of what might be scary, confusing or unknown. My patients challenge me, and I enjoy my time with them.

One of my favorite groups of patients to work with is the pediatric cancer patient. I have come to love their little bald heads, their big shining eyes, and the great strength and hope they show in fighting their battle. I find a measure of beauty in how these patients and families “dance” through the difficult and confusing situation of cancer. I say dance because that’s how I think of it. You never know what song is next – is it a sick day or a well day? Or what beat or tempo you will have – is the chemo going to make me sick or not? Or what steps your partner will take to lead – what decisions will my parents and doctors make? And they dance it beautifully. The steps they choose are the right ones for them. I have the privilege of being involved in their care and watching, assisting and at times, “dancing” with them.

Nursing as a career has great benefits. It is enriching, challenging, uses your brain and heart and leaves an impression on you forever. I encourage anyone interested in working in health care to explore the field of nursing. It is a job that will both stretch you and make you smile. Most importantly, nursing will allow you to help others in need.

Try This: Kids in the Kitchen Chicken Tenders January 25, 2007

This is an easy, but yummy recipe my kids enjoy helping with.  Okay, my kids pretty much enjoy “helping” with anything in the kitchen, but this one is fun and tasty. 

                                                  

 The inspiration for this recipe comes from Planet Hollywood of all places.  I was told by the waitress there that Demi Moore dreamed up the chicken tenders recipe in order to get her kids to eat more foods or good foods or something like that.  She told us the secret ingredients in the breading were Captain Crunch and Frosted Flakes cereals.  My kiddos, however, didn’t like the ones at the Planet Hollywood.  They found them just a little too sweet.  (I know, I wasn’t sure there could be such a thing as too sweet for kids, but maybe it’s that mixing of flavors). 

So here’s the combo we came up with instead for the breading:

Equal parts of:

Captain Crunch (generic works just fine)

Frosted Flakes (ditto)

Pepperidge Farm herb seasoned stuffing (I would buy name brand here) or plain or seasoned bread crumbs

and  (optional) Grated Parmesan Cheese, straight out of the shaker 

A cup of each of these will do at least 4 pounds of chicken.  The key is to crush or chop the heck out of them.  We use a chopper sometimes (it’s a Pampered Chef), or a heavy duty meat tenderizer, or a rolling pin.  The chopping and then measuring of equal parts is great fun for the kids.  I can put 3 kids on chopping duty and the other on measuring duty and everyone is busy and out of trouble for the moment.  Mix it together well and place in a shallow dish for easy dipping.

I cut my boneless, skinless chicken breasts into strips while still mostly frozen.  A good knife will go right through them.  If the kids want nuggets, I just cut the strips into pieces after cooking.  I also sometimes just bread the whole breast and cut either strips or nuggets after cooking.  Saves precious time.  You can, of course, buy prepared nuggets or tenders, but the breasts are always cheaper.  We find them for $1.99/pound on sale and stock up. 

Beat a couple of eggs for the batter (a wonderful kid job, with assistance as needed) Meanwhile, melt a stick of butter.  I always bake these on a stone (I know, Pampered Chef), but you will, of course, use whatever pan you have.  Cover the bottom of your pan of choice with a little of your melted butter. 

Now, dip the chicken into the egg batter, then roll in the crumbs to generously coat.  Bigger kids can help here, and my girls love it.  You’ll just need to supervise the handwashing later! 

Fill your pan full of chicken, they need to be touching but not overlapping.  When your pan is full, drizzle more of the melted butter across the top and sprinkle, then press more of the breading over the top as well. 

375 degrees for about 1/2 hour, depending on the thickness of your chicken.  They taste fried – but they come from the oven!  Yummy!  You may want to turn the heat up to 425 or so, or even to broil for a few minutes at the end for extra crispiness. 

Kids can eat as usual with dipping sauces.  For adults, they are wonderful atop a salad or a bed of alfredo noodles, or as a hearty sandwich with some red sauce. 

Hope that gives you some ideas to work with

“Sorry, Mommy” January 24, 2007

What a week.  He’s done it again!  Last week, Brady gave me some fascinating subject matter for a post called “Purple.”  Perhaps, for consistency, I should have called today’s post “Black.”  Actually, I’ve had a small bit of entertainment coming up with names for today’s post.  Might as well have something to laugh about.  The eternal optimist in me came through quite quickly and at least thought to get the camera.  The good news:  This might make good blog stuff or at least, a funny memory.

                                               

Subtitle:  “Why we don’t have nice things” or “Why there won’t be a 5th Houk child” 

So you’ve had a Bad Day? 

In just one short week, I’ve had some sort of flu-like illness and spent a great deal of time in bed.  During that time, Brady has painted the family room including couch, carpet, cocktail table, toys, and dog – Purple.  That was permanent paint.  Then, over the weekend, he went into his sisters’ newly decorated pad that we call “Girls Place” and redecorated a nightstand, carpet, and some of their articles of clothing with Crayola paint.  That paint, thankfully, was washable.  And, today.  Ahhh, today.  Apparently our young artist is experimenting with various mediums.  That substance decorating him and once again, the family room, is….permanent INK! 

You can almost just see how creative he is from the photo.  That would be the dog’s cage that he used as his artist pallet.  Into that pooling of ink, he has deposited the following:

a seamstress style tape measure  

a used 35 mm roll of film

one AA battery

one broken Pirate’s sword toy

one Goofy as a pirate toy figure

and a brand new, but opened, toothbrush

I don’t know what he was creating, but man, was it going to be good.  He was truly thrilled with himself.  He came and got me, just as he is in the photo, to show me his masterpiece.  He had the tape measure around his neck, just as if he were doing some routine alterations. 

I screamed!  I did this for a variety of reasons.  One, he was leaving prints on everything he touched.  Second, he really scared me – I hardly recognized him.  Third, how much of this can one family take in a week?  I’m seriously considering putting him in the dog’s cage. 

The ink and many of the above mentioned items were again stolen from the study.  We are cleaning out the study (slow, slow process) and there are boxes of assorted wonders around.  It’s taken me awhile, but I am now realizing that’s exactly what those crates are to  him:  creative wonders ready for the taking.  The ink is a permanent refill for a business stamp pad.  The only good news here is that it is kind of slow drying and that is isn’t permanent until it dries.  I had a small window of opportunity. 

Knowing I had to move fast and still screaming, I let him lead me to the scene of the crime, where I screamed some more.  Then I yelled at him directly.  

“Sorry, Mommy”  Big, big tears.  He looked so sad, so deflated.  He even looked confused.  How did he get so cute?  This isn’t fair!

“Brady, you can just keep being sorry!  WE DON’T PLAY WITH PAINT!  I mean, we aren’t supposed to play with paint, or markers, or ink.”  Ugh! – I’m not making any sense, how could a 3 year old understand me?  Now he’s really crying and he was so just so pleased with his work.  Great, he’s ruined the family room for the second time and now he’s the one with hurt feelings. 

Deep, deep breath.  Guess what?  Guess who was watching him this time?  Oh yes, Mrs. Eat-My- Own- Words- About- Watching -the -Toddler Houk.  And, let’s just make it worse.  Brady was talking to me from the other room while he was in the midst of “creating” or re-decorating, as we now call it. 

“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” 

“He’s upstairs, Brady.  Mommy’s got to work on the computer. You play, okay.” 

“Okay, Mommy.  Where’s Daddy? He coming back down?” 

“He’ll be down in a minute, Brady, please let Mommy finish.  Do you need something?” 

“No, I no need thing, Mommy.”

Sneaky little devil.  The above conversation is code for:  How long do I have before an adult, any adult, You or Dad, comes in here to stop me? 

No need – he apparently had plenty of time to finish as he was already showing of his handiwork. 

There’s currently no time to choke on my foot, as hubby is headed out the door to a job interview.  Mission one:  Confine toddler to keep Dad clean.  Steve picks up his folder, loaded with the reference sheets I was typing for him while Brady got artistic.  We yell a good luck, as he can’t even get close enough to kiss either of us. 

Decon begins.  I hold Brady’s hand to go upstairs.  Dummy – I should have held both hands.  Handprint now on bannister and on wall.  Mental note, clean that too.  I put him into the tub – clothes and all.  The shirt goes straight into the trash.  I cannot waste valuable energy on cleaning a t-shirt.  I put him under the faucet before I even attempt to run water.  A blackish purple run-off is now pooling at his feet.  He’s giggling hysterically.  He’s recovered from my stern rambling and is now having a blast.  I soap him up 3 times before it’s safe to actually catch the water and fill up the tub.  My plan now is to put baby wash in the water so that while he soaks and plays, the bottom layers of black ink start fading.  Baby wash bottle – empty.  No baby wash or adult wash or shower gel to be found.  Quick trip to the girls’ bathroom.  I’ll have to confess later, but the Mandarin Kiwi shower gel from a Christmas present is now in Mom’s tub.  The whole bottle – it was only 4 ounces! 

Now the baby is headed toward clean.  I must face the family room.  But the baby’s got to stay in the tub.  “Never leave a child under 5 unattended in the tub.”  Parent safety rule number something that I am forced to now remember.  I glance down at Murphy dog and seriously contemplate asking him to watch the baby.  Okay, reality breaks through – What the Hell am I thinking? 

“Brady, I need you to keep talking to Mommy, okay?” 

He looks confused. 

“Mommy’s got to go downstairs and clean up.  Will you talk to Mommy so I can still hear you down there?” 

“Okay, Mommy.” 

I race downstairs and find some glass and surface cleaner.  I will work on the fingerprints on the wall areas first, as the couch is already trashed x2.  Here’s a good shot of the handprints. 

                                 

And, yes, there is a God (I did already know that, but you need reinforcers on a day like today), those handprints did come off.  I thank both God and eggshell finish paint, which claims to wash up well.  I’m a believer!  This ink was so think that when I sprayed the cleaner on, the spray that ricocheted back of the wall was black, and left subsequent stains where it fell.  I caught on quick and just wet the rag. 

During this whole time, Brady is doing a version of what I instructed.  Instead of continuing to talk to me, he’s opted for just yelling “Moooooommmmyyyyyy” over and over.  Irritating, yes, but no chance of drowning. 

Now, I move to the top of the dog crate area.  Out of Brady’s treasures, I only saved the roll of film.  I’m going to take it to my handy Walgreen’s and see if they think the ink went inside.  It was so deep on the top of the crate that it was still wet and pooling, and funneling down through the air vents in the top.  Okay, dog bedding now thrown away.  I used newspapers to soak up most of the wet ink and then cleaned the top, briefly.  It’s a dog crate, after all, and I certainly have more important worries. 

I go to check the Bradster quickly.  I convince him to let me turn on the jets (it’s scary) long enough to get some bubbles going.  That last layer of black is pretty persistent.  We turn on the jets and I make him put arms/legs in there for the force of the water.  Now, he’s loving it.  We are riding the rapids.  I wipe off all the black residue from the drops around the top of the tub.  I look down, my clothes are ruined.  Given, they were lounging clothes – yoga pants and a t-shirt, but gees, enough.  I can’ t leave the bubbles going, as I won’t be able to hear him.  Bubbles off.  I find a toy football and floatie duckie in the floor.  That, with the one lego, the cup, and every kid’s favorite (and safe) toy, the cuticle stick, has made Brady happy.  He’s now playing rocket ship. Not yelling Mommy, but still chatting.  I run back down quick. 

On to the couch.  My luck has run out.  Ink soaks in quickly.  All I get when I try to clean it is a dirty cloth and more drippy, black water running off.  Forget it!  I said I didn’t like that couch last week and now I HATE IT!  We will be forced into slipcovers or new furntiture very soon. 

I’m thinking we might want to wait until Brady turns at least 4. 

Truth Hurts January 23, 2007

I have a friend in real crisis.  It’s the kind of rock-your-world crisis that leaves you numb just so the fear, anger, depression, and reality don’t just kill you.  While the rest of us were dealing with picking up kids and what to fix for dinner today, she was facing head on the effects of alcoholism.  More accurately, she was facing the effects of alcoholism that she and her husband have tried desperately to deny. 

Their last counselor told them flat out at their first session that alcohol had no place in their marriage.   He was firm and told them that if they didn’t believe it that they really needed a new counselor, as they would be wasting his time and their money.  I appreciated that he told it like it was.  They did too, for awhile.  They stopped seeing him in the fall.  They had a major slip-up in the summer that started off with a few drinks.  Once they shared this with him, he identified that maybe they are people who think the rules don’t apply to them.  They push every limit and boundary they set, just to prove that they can.  As of late, they were out to prove they could successfully be social drinkers. 

This time, someone almost died trying to prove it. 

This is a soul-sister kind of friend.  She and I developed a relationship that was deeper and stronger than most years ago.  We’ve used that bond as foundation in holding each other up and we’ve needed it.  Life hurts from time to time and life is hard most all of the time.  Our daily decisions lead to circumstances that control our healthiness and happiness.  As an optimist, I see that statement as empowering.  We have the ability to make choices and change our situations.  If you don’t like the choices you’ve made, simply make new choices and change your whole set of circumstances.  It’s much simpler than it sounds.  I’ve found that most people don’t find it uplifting.  Most people spend more time reflecting on the wrong decisions and refuse to see the solutions available to them with new choices.  That’s how many, many people every day stay and live where it hurts.  Where it’s miserable and dysfunctional and where momentary events, fun, and circumstances all serve to cover up and hide the ugly truth beneath it.  It’s the epitome of denial.  Glossing over the surface adds to the injury.  The broken foundation below erodes.  It becomes excoriated, yet the surface continues to look fine.  Its a hurt that hides and worsens and that can’t even be seen.  And then, when some crisis actually pops a hole in the top layer, the built up hurt and resentment and untruths and guilt all come rushing out.  It’s overpowering.  It’s how many, many people live on a day to day basis. 

This friend has not experienced many healthy relationships in her life.  They’ve all been based on control and conditional love.  I set out to be a friend to her in the most fundamental sense first, and then on deeper levels.  I love her.  I tell her that — often.  That part doesn’t change if she doesn’t see things my way.  I don’t take it away if she doesn’t follow my advice.  I don’t judge her worth.  And, if she stumbles in her own walks and quests, I continue to love her.  My role is to support her through life, come what may.  Seeing as how she had never had that kind of friendship, we spent a long time building that foundation. 

One of the other really big promises I made to her is to be honest.  To not be the kind of friend that tries to make everything look okie-dokie or that blows sunshine at her.  I agreed to tell her, in love, when some of those basic decisions in her life were cutting off the circulation to her and her family’s health.  I think she’s grown to appreciate it, even when it stings.  I know she’s grown to understand my love.  Even when I don’t agree with her decisions, I still love her.  It’s been a huge learning process for her.  She’s used to trying to make other people happy.  I don’t want her making anyone happy, certainly  not me.  My hope for her is that she makes choices that make her family more healthy.  Happiness is just a plus and it’s a poorly understood plus. Happiness has generally come to mean “whatever feels good at the moment.”  It’s important to look very far beyond happiness straight into healthy  Real, true happiness follows that in a much more long-term way. 

We set these rules up on our friendship and have endured many crises together.  We’ve been together through just basic survival, like how to get all the kids fed and in bed, when your life is falling apart.  And, we’ve been together through events that are such major wake-up calls they make us question all our decisions prior to now.  Finding strength from each other in all those times is equally important.  It’s a real, solid, “I care deeply about what happens to you” friendship. 

Today, I’m very unhappy with myself.  I chose an easy road and it led me to act differently than the friend I said I would be.  My friend told me she and her husband quit drinking.  This was while in counseling and she told me they agreed to flat out stop.  They had realized they couldn’t even have the occasional margarita with the chips and salsa.  She really felt like the big drinking problem was her husband’s, but she agreed to stop too.  I was proud of them and relieved.  I praised and supported her and rejoiced with her.  I vowed to never drink in front of or with them.  I stopped fixing margaritas in their company and opted for an alcohol free punch.  I played the role of good friend for awhile and then I let her down. 

I chose not to ask about the alcohol.  I chose to believe that is was possible for them to just give it up like this and so I chose not to face reality.  In my mind, I will say that it’s because I just really believed that they had done it.  But in my heart, I will know that I didn’t actually want to know the answer.  I had no desire to hear her rationalize.  I didn’t want to hear her explain to me again about how much less they were drinking and that they had really proven they could have the one drink and not end up in crisis.  I saw the cups in her hand at social events and I didn’t ask what was in them.  Who was in denial here?  I think I just didn’t want to know.  I didn’t want to face it.  I didn’t want to invest the energy in holding her accountable.  I chose to bury my head in the sand and I became the superficial friend that listens to her tell me everything is just peachy and says “great” and goes on her merry way.  I chose to be the convenient friend, not the real one. 

And then yesterday reality hits hard, with a big slap on the face.   Someone is almost dead.  Someone is fighting for their life.  Alcohol is a killer.  Denial is the accomplice. 

And tonight, after covering survival mode with her – making sure all the kids were okay and dinner was provided and other such logistics – I had to come clean.  I’m mad at her for drinking.  I’m mad at her for drinking with him and allowing him to believe he could.  I’m mad at her for taking it lightly, for lying to me about stopping, and for being a part of this crisis that could both literally and figuratively kill her family. 

And I’m just as mad at me.  I mad at me for not being the friend I promised.  For not asking what was in the cup and “what the Hell are you doing?”  I’m mad at me for not reminding her why she wasn’t drinking in the first place.  I chickened out and I let her down and I had to tell her that.  We had to go back to our basic agreement as true friends.  I had to remind her that even if she told me she was going to walk around with a stiff drink in her hand 24-7, I would still love her.  I would worry about her and I would not be able to support that decision and in good conscience I would keep telling her to re-consider and reminding her of the risks, but I would continue to love her. 

We reaffirmed our agreement tonight.  Friendship on this level has the seriousness of marriage vows.  She knows where I’m coming from at this moment and she knows that my future role might not be pretty.  She knows I’m holding her accountable for these decisions.  And, she knows I will do this because I love her and her beautiful family. 

It’s up to me now to carry this out.  I’m not responsible for her and  her decisions, but I’m responsible for being a tough love friend.  I’m taking my commitment to this very seriously.  I’m approaching it all with reality even though the truth can and will and does hurt.  I have to.  It’s my duty as a friend and it’s an urgent priority.  I promise to try to be the voice of reality before the reality is that the alcohol kills someone and destroys a family in the process. 

Try This: Leftover Christmas Candy January 22, 2007

This may be so simple that everyone out there has already figured it out, but if your brain has days like mine does, it is sometimes hard to remember my own name.  Even harder – all my kids’ names.  So, in the interest of beautiful simplicity – here goes.

It’s too late to buy reduced Christmas candy now, but I’m betting lots of us have some left.  If not, there’s always next year.  I found those cute little Hershey Kissables on sale right after Christmas.  They were $.29 for a 12 ounce bag!  There are two bags on my shelf right now and they are a variety of red, green, and white. 

Let your kids (with clean hands, of course) sort those out for you and bag them up in separate colors.  If you have a kindergartner or similiar age like we do, you can let them practice counting or making patterns and other such fun activities. 

Use the red and white now,  for valentines.  We put all kind of candies in cookies, pancakes (you should try it), and as toppings on ice cream, cupcakes, or other such health foods. 

Save your green for St. Patty’s Day. 

Have fun! 

Customer Service is Dead: McDonalds January 22, 2007

One of the biggest dying arts in America is customer service, or quality customer service I should say.  The Sunday paper is full of job adds for Customer Service Reps, the “service” industry is growing, and yet finding a human who really wants to offer any kind of help or service is a challenge on any given day.  I’ll be identyifing some of the offenders in this section.  Hopefully, occasionally, I’ll be surprised with excellent customer service and be able to blog about that, too. 

I’ve had a yucky cold this weekend.  On Friday night, I felt terrible and just went to bed early.  On Saturday morning, I wanted to spend some time with the kids to make up for crashing on our evening together.  They adore grocery shopping.  Not too sure about why, but they do.  I invited any kids that wantedto go to get their clothes on for grocery shopping trip. It was 9:45 am.  While they were getting ready, I searched through the mess I currently call a study (study in disorganization would be more appropriate) for some McDonald’s gift cards I knew we had.  I found 3 and checked the balances on line.  We had $12.  As usual, money is tight this month.  I also found a school coupon for buy one b-fast sandwich get one free.  Okay – we were on!  Hurry – mom has a surprise.  I knew McD’s stopped serving breakfast at 10:30 am, or at least they did on weekdays.  So, I rushed the 3 kids that had decided to go with me.  The 12 year old opted for sleeping in.  If Harper had been any slower, he would have been backwards.  He wanted to wear sandals in the 26 degree weather.  After a little battle about that and a bigger one finding hats/gloves/scarves, etc. , we departed at approx 10:15 am. 

I’m sure that McDonalds in the title here will make some wonder.  Did I really expect to get awesome service at McD’s?  Was I looking for the experience of a lifetime at a place that has a $1 menu?  Definitely not, but I was expecting to receive a fast-food quality breakfast, eat it with my 3 charming morning pals in a fast-food environment, and start off our Saturday morning on a decent note. 

McD’s was crowded.  From the hustle I saw people moving in, I was able to confirm that breakfast did, in fact, end at 10:30.  This was far from relaxing, but okay, it was a “fast-food” breakfast.  And, it was the only place I had gift cards for, so it was essentially a free breakfast while the wallet was empty. 

Keely took the boys to a booth and removed all the hats, gloves, etc, while I went to order.  We had decided what we wanted on the way over so we wouldn’t waste any time.  I was in line at 10:22.  Whew!  A sigh of relief that we had made it.  Plus, there was only one couple in front of me in line.  A manager type person (one wearing the different manager-type shirt) was the cashier on my side.  She took the couple’s order promptly and then began filling it.  She was slow.  It took her several minutes to decide she would need to move them over to the side and take more orders.  About one minute prior to that time, the other cashier announced in a loud, shouting voice that it was “switchover to lunch time.”  I didn’t worry.  I figured that she meant that would be starting the switchover procedure.  Little did I know. 

It was like something out of the movies when the illegal gambling is taking place and there’s a raid.  She yelled a few things to the front staff, spoke in Spanish to the back staff, turned a wheel on the menu changing the whole board to lunch, gave the man at the counter two creams for his coffee while the chilled bins at the drink counter were emptied, and presto!  – there was no longer any sign of breakfast.  It was 10:26.  Just then, my manager/cashier decides she will move the nice customer to the side and take more orders. 

I handed her my coupon and said, “I’m trying real hard to get some breakfast here.” 

“I’m sorry, we are serving lunch.  May I take your order?” She still has her hand on the tray of the customers now standing beside me.  It’s nearly full of breakfast items.

“I’ve been standing in this line waiting on breakfast.  It’s not 10:30 yet.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.  We have to get ready for lunch.” 

Now, I’m ticked.  So are the other folks behind me.  We’ve been waiting in line for breakfast, at breakfast time, and won’t get breakfast.  It’s not 10:30 yet and there’s no breakfast. 

“Okay, what do you have left?”  This is their standard procedure.  They won’t take breakfast orders, but they will sell what they have left to you. 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing?  What’s all that food?”  I point to the stack of breakfast sandwiches coming from the back. 

“Believe it or not, that’s food for orders.  We have nothing left.”

“But it’s not 10:30 yet and I’ve been in line since well before 10:30″

“I know and I am sorry.  We are supposed to be stocked until 10:30, but she turned it a little early today.” 

“Why would she turn it early when we are all in line for breakfast?”

“I’m not sure, but what can I get for you?”

“NOTHING!  There’s nothing you can get me, as you been very clear that you have NOTHING left from the breakfast menu.  It’s now 10:29 am and I came here with 3 children all bundled up and expecting breakfast and since you don’t have any more breakfast, there’s not one thing you can get for me. ”

I go deliver the news to the 3 cuties awaiting hotcakes and syrup.  We were the first family in line denied breakfast, so the entire restaurant is full of pancake eating little brats all around us.  Try explaining that to the 3 year old.  Then, try convincing everyone we really don’t need breakfast anyway, since we don’t have any gift cards for anywhere else and now no one else is serving breakfast either!  Had I known McD’s would leave me breakfastless, I could have used that time in line to go one or two stores down to Wendy’s or Burger King who WAS actually serving b-fast until 10:30, not just advertising it.  Okay, maybe we’ll hit Waffle House (b-fast served 24-7).  Helpful mom that has breakfast for her whole family tells me;  “there’s  a line out the door there, that’s why we came here.”  Thank you, thank you for that helpful piece info, now go back to enjoying your hotcakes, okay? 

We put all the cold weather gear on and leave McD’s.  Judging from the rush of other folks out the door as well, there were a lot of people wanting breakfast.  So what sense does it make to switchover early when you have a line full of people wanting breakfast?  Still haven’t figured that one out. 

In a moment of true revelation, I remembered that Dunkin’ Doughnuts not only takes checks, but that they do also have some breakfast sandwiches.  We headed there and had a delightful breakfast.  My Dunkin is run by a wonderful middle Eastern family.  We have trouble understanding each other sometimes, but even with a language barrier, they ALWAYS have great service.  They recognize us and most of them live in the apartments just across the street.  They truly have a community feel.  Makes me wonder why it was I went to McD’s anyway…oh yeah, those gift cards. 

I’m sure no one will head to McD’s for their top-notch award-winning service or their world-renowned gourmet food, but think twice before you even head there for your  hopefully warm; frozen, re-frozen, and deep-fried, served without a smile or even a common courtesy meal.  It might be switchover time and you might leave without even that. 

In case you’re local here in Knoxville, this would be the McD’s on Cedar Bluff, which I could not recommend for even a crappy breakfast, since I got no breakfast.  The Dunkin is also on Cedar Bluff and they are open 24 hours with a full menu and a polite staff.  Please help keep them in business – we need to preserve all the customer service we can before it is truly extinct. 

My Favorite Apology January 20, 2007

It’s an absolute fact that healthy, stable married couples will fight from time to time.  As I understand, it’s part of the being healthy.  It means there’s enough care, concern, and love to have real issues that cause friction.  I am proud to say my marriage is very healthy, certainly by the fighting standards.   

Steve and I have different argumentation styles.  We practice different tactics and strategies to “hit the other where it hurts.”  We know all this because he’s a Speech Communication major and when he was finishing his degree, we agreed to have a real disagreement in an open forum for his whole class to analyze.  Wow, and did they.  I would have done anything to get him through school and and even more to get him an “A”.   In the end, however, it probably would have been easier if he’d ask me to sleep with one of his professors.  It’s very eye-opening and has quite a sting to hear a group pick apart every detail of what you said and then try to couple that with your underlying feelings and motives.  I learned that although Steve has the temper, I tend to use more “underhanded” techniques to try to come out on top.  Ouch!  Do I really do that?  Okay, I might…but after all, no temper – I ‘m not hot-headed.  Steve has shared with me over the years that those cutting one liners I throw in there are the ones that a.) really hurt him  b.)  send his temper through the roof.  Apparently, my technique in Speech Comm terms is called “hitting below the belt.”  It makes me sound like a Dragon Lady.   

In the end, the class’ little learning session did greatly increase our awareness and our sensitivity toward each other.  We make a real effort to avoid those things that hurt the most and try to keep everything on a fair, calm, level playing field – theoretically.  But then there’s those days that we’re tired and frustrated and just one child too many has yelled just one too many times at the wrong pitch and the trash still hasn’t been taken out and our nerves just can’t handle anymore.  That’s where the little learning session becomes dangerous – because now that we know what really gets the other, all we have to do is just reach down into our little tool belt and pull those really ugly, but really-effective-at–making-your-point techniques out and blast the other.  It’s like being a super hero and not using your powers until you need them urgently.  Except super heroes usually do good deeds.  I guess this is more like being the villain.  

On a typical week at our house, the simple schedule of getting everyone to the correct place and reasonably on time will wear any human down.  Add to this sleep-deprived, and we’ve already been primed to not play in the most sportsmanlike manner.  I woke up in the afternoon (night shifter) to find that NO progress had been made on the laundry, dishes, trash, and assorted other household chores.  I initiated a “discussion” about this with hubby and I hit a nerve.  I made an extremely conscious focused effort to not play dirty, and I could tell that he was as well.  It was a rather calm chat.  We always try to view the situation from the other’s perspective and I could tell we were each practicing this principle.  And then, as if it were just some automatic reflex, Steve’s temper showed it’s ugly face.  Later, I was told that it was the difference between me saying I felt like he wasn’t doing his part to me stating he wasn’t doing his part.  Perception versus fact.  When it seemed to him that I had made it a fact – he lost it!  It wasn’t meant to be slinging insults or hitting below the belt on my part, but it was pretty accurate.  He hadn’t done his part!  I’m sticking to my guns on that one.  And later, when it was all over, he had to share that he really agreed with me and that made him even more furious.  It was a “truth hurts” scenario.  So, he screamed at me a little and condescended to me about it was a shame everyone couldn’t be a superbitch like me and then showed me a finger that wasn’t his ring finger and put it much closer to my face than I liked and then had the nerve to storm off!  That walking off thing really grates me!  It’s as if you can just walk away from the problem and the life that continues to go on whether or not you hide.  I followed and then lost my cool as well.  I cry when I lose my cool, always.  Through big tears, I tell him to get out of my face and that I will play single parent the rest of the evening while he attempts to get his act together.  I throw in that I’ll play single parent forever if he keeps this up.  And then he retreats to our bedroom.   A moment of disclaimer:  we make a very concerted effort to not do this in front of the children and generally succeed at that.  We have also both agreed to not play “Good cop, Bad cop.”  So, I simply told the kids that Daddy needed some alone time.  The kids and I had a fine dinner together and it took my mind off the drama Steve and I had created.  I signed all the homework papers and did the bedtime routine and managed tuck-in.  The boys are snuggle bunnies and require all the accoutrements to go to sleep.  We give in.  Routine is story and snuggling in Mom and Dad’s bed.  We move them later.  It’s just easier.  I decided that I wasn’t interrupting their routine just because Steve was being a butt and hiding out.  We marched into the bedroom and they were excited to see Daddy and gave him the big tackle hug and  hit on him (like males do for some reason) and said good-night to him.  I assumed he would then leave, since he was angry at me.  He didn’t.  He snuggled up in the bed on the other side of the boys.  I had avoided even looking his direction, but I glanced his way in surprise for just a second.  His mean face was gone.  He was wearing a sweet, gentle look.  I wasn’t really touched.  “Whatever!”  was pretty much my main thought.   

I read two dinosaur books to the boys and then Brady, age 3, read one to me.  Strangely, that book was about elephants the second time around, but points for trying.  Then we looked at one of my favorite Anne Geddes books together for awhile.  It was one Steve had purchased for me on a little vacation he and I had taken.  Great, why did I have to have some sentimental, sweet book up here tonight?  Anyway, the boys are hooked on my favorite page where all the babies are dressed up like worms, so we looked at that for a minute and then it was time for lights out.  Brady had sort of a rough day at preschool – he had scratched a friend for no apparent reason.  His day got rougher when he came home and Mom put him through the torture of clipping those claws he had used.  Judging from the screams, that might have been punishment enough.  Regardless, he was now tired.  Nighttime prayers were said by Harper and then it was goodnight time.   

Out of the quiet, though, still snuggling Harper next to him, Steve speaks.   “Boys, I need to ask you for some advice. “  Long pause.  “ Have you ever hurt someone you cared about?” Brady immediately tells the story again about how he scratched Joey today.    “And what do we do when we hurt someone ?”  asks Daddy.    “You say you sorry” says Harper.  “I say sorry to Joey” states Brady.  He still thinks we are reviewing his earlier incident. “It’s important to say you’re sorry.  What else can we do?”  Daddy continues on.   I can see where this is going and I’m started to feel kind of touched, a bit tender about the whole thing.  I don’t really want to feel that way, but it’s headed there.  

 “How do we show someone we are sorry?  What kinds of things can we do?”    He’s leading a real discussion now and the boys are chatting away with him.  He talks about words and actions and that we can’t take them back.  Wow.    “C’mon boys, name something else we can do..” I’m playing along now.  Why not?  This is pretty good stuff.  I whisper into Brady’s ear “flowers – tell Daddy flowers.”  Hee hee. Steve is still talking.  “What about a kiss?  Can we show someone we are sorry with a kiss?”    Brady blurts out “Flowers!”  and Steve loses it now in a silly way, cracking up.  Then, Steve gets up and comes around to my side of the bed.  He takes my hand and talks first to the boys.   “Listen up boys.  Pay close attention.  You’ll have to do this many, many times in your life, so you best learn now.”    Then, he turns his attention to me.  “I am very sorry.  I lost my temper.  Please forgive me.”  He then kisses my hand, then my lips.    Brady, in a jealous rage, tries to push Steve’s face away and now Steve and Brady’s faces are both on my lips.  Another time for crack up.  We get to end on a silly note and continue to snuggle.   

Saying you’re sorry is very important.  We both make sure we can do it.  Over the years, we’ve come up with some creative ways.  This one was my personal favorite.     Almost 15 years and counting…

Try This: Lava Cake January 19, 2007

My work friends will appreciate this entry.  After having made this cake by request the last 4 out of 4 nights I’ve worked, I’ve decided it’s valuable enough to share!  It’s also a start of my “Try this” entries, where I share random ideas that have worked for me in some way, with you.   This is the easiest and quickest cake in the world and, not even considering those two factors, it’s delicious!  Every time I make it, tasters become believers about this silly ooey gooey cake that comes out of the microwave in 10 minutes!

The secret to this cake is a little microwave pan, sold by Pampered Chef, called the Rice Cooker Plus.  That being said, I’ve never sold it to anyone who wanted to make rice…it’s all about the cake.  The fact that I’ve sold almost 20 of them at work since last weekend certainly speaks to its impressive nature.  I’ll have instructions at the bottom if you need to buy the cooker!   

Once you have the cooker, the rest is a breeze. 

You’ll need:

A cake mix (your choice of flavor) + the ingredients to make it

A can of prepared icing (again your choice of flavor) 

This is the convenience recipe.  If you are a 100% homemade person, feel free to use homemade cake batter and icing.  I’m getting the idea there aren’t many of you out there, however.  When I said that at work, the response was, “homemade icing, what’s that?”   

You mix the batter up, as directed, right into the rice cooker (no need to dirty another bowl).  Then, into the raw batter, scoop out the can of icing into the middle.  Just dump it in there.  Now, seal the lid and microwave on high for 9-12 minutes, depending on microwave.  I’d start with less time – you’d rather it be too gooey than too done.  

Once baked, dump the cake out onto a dish with sides to catch all the runny goodness.  J  It should be jiggly.  Some of my work friends say it jiggles like thighs with cellulite, but I’m sure we don’t want to think about that now.  Once you flip it, it will ooze sauce and sometimes gurgle and spew and be runny in the middle.  Serve!  I just scoop it out with some of the sauce and it is wonderful topped with ice cream.  It will not be a beautiful a presentation, but it’s the absolute melt-in-your-mouth taste that counts!  If it’s solid in the middle, it’s still yummy, but back off by a minute or two on your microwave next time.    You can use any flavor combination you wish.  We seem to be stuck in a rut at work, as one of our managers just can’t see it any other way than chocolate on chocolate.  That is truly delicious, but I’ve listed some other combos below if you feel like branching out.   

Strawberry cake and cream cheese frosting,White cake and strawberry frosting, Confetti Cake and Colored Frosting,Yellow Cake and Chocolate Frosting,White or Chocolate or Carmel cake with Carmel or German Chocolate Frosting, Chocolate/chocolate with Raspberry or Strawberry preserves on top.  I’m sure you get the idea. 

You can also add other toppings, either before baking or after, or both if you are feeling really sinful.    Try:  Andes mints, toasted nuts, p-nut butter, any candy or chocolate chips, ice cream toppings, preserves, pie fillings, etc.  You can be as creative and adventurous as you like!   

I used leftover orange icing from a birthday cake we had made and the boys thought it looked like a volcano.  That’s a “hot-tango” here in toddler speak.  After Halloween, I emptied the pantry into this cake:  a handful of reese pieces, choc chips, p-nut butter chips, caramels, a few small reese cups, and some caramel topping – all into the batter.  It was delightful!   

It’s best eaten fresh, so plan to eat it all in one sitting (optional:  share with others).  If you do have leftovers, however, there are still good – just re-heat for maximum effect. 

The real beauty here is that even cheapo cake mixes and icings turn out wonderfully delicious cakes, so you can economize.  My daughters can make this cake completely independently without having to use the oven.  Put it in as you sit down to dinner and “wa-lah”:  it dings while you are eating and you have hot, fresh cake.   

There won’t always be a sales-pitch, but I do sell this handy cookers if needed.  They are $19, plus tax and s/h.  Do your math, though.  After you invest the $19, a cake mix plus icing can be purchased for about $2.  I sound like an infomercial, but it pays for itself quickly.  Pampered Chef won’t let me put in a link to my website L  but here’s the address and you can just cut and paste if you’d like.  You can do an individual order and have it shipped straight to you – pretty easy I must say!  www.pamperedchef.biz/HoukHouseCook  Enjoy your lava cake!  Impressive, easy, quick, and YUMMY!   

Disney Done Right #2 January 19, 2007

Our 2nd Disney Trip of 2006

My most important tip is:  Aside from surprises (more to follow on that in subsequent DDR Tips), INVOLVE THE WHOLE FAMILY in planning your vacation. If it’s going to be the trip of a lifetime, make everyone have a part in achieving that.  It’s your first step to using this valuable time to draw your family closer.  The Disney on a Dime book has fabulous ideas for this, many of which we used with our own spin. 

First, we started a change jar.  Even my youngest at 2 could assist with this.  We put Mickey and Minnie stickers on it and ALL extra change at the end of the day – pockets, purses, couches, floors, wallets – went in this jar.  Then, the use of the jar expanded.  We all made sacrifices for the trip.  Anytime we gave up something, we invested the amount saved into the jar.   

Haircuts were a huge savings success.  The girls and I gave up Salon cuts and color in favor of the cheaper, walk-in chains.  We used the Great Clips down the road and are still very happy there today.  An adult cut is $11, a kids is $9.  Plus, we’ve found a coupon book in town with coupons for $5.99.  We’ve asked all our friends who won’t use that coupon themselves to save it for us.  Don’t add shampoo ($2), walk out with your hair wet and save styling costs.  I purchased a home hi-lighting kit and found it remarkably easy to use for $9.99.  The hairstylist even complimented me!  With tip and home-color, our total was around $35.  Our usual amount previously for both girls (ages 8,12) and myself with minimal highlights was about  $120.  Savings (cha-ching):  $85, which we put into the jar.   

If we returned something at the store and got money back, we put it into the jar, as we had already subtracted the cost out of checking, so we weren’t really missing it.  We pledged to only eat out for dirt-cheap specials or kids eat free deals.  That will be a whole other entry to tell you my tips there!  That jar gained $300 in a week!  WOW!  It also helped our family see how wasteful we could be with money.  If we could come up with $300 that quick – what in the heck had we been doing with it all?   

We hosted 2 family Garage Sales, earning around $500-$600 total with very minimal effort.  If we had invested more time in cleaning out, I would say we could have exceeded $1000.  Our nice 3-car garage has really become a walk-in storage unit.  We plan on doing the sale each year to try and stay ahead of the junk pile-up.   

I have a little side business as a Pampered Chef Consultant.  I hosted a big sale and my family all pitched in to help – taking orders, publicizing, packing orders, delivering, etc.  We made a quick $500 in one month this way.  If you are ever interested in the PC opportunity, it’s been good to me and a nice way to throw down some extra cash when needed.  Please email me and I’ll point you to some more information.  J   

Okay, all that plus some extra shifts at work when offered, paid for our trip.  My daughter donated her babysitting money.  The girls both voluntarily gave up any portion of allowance they didn’t need for routine survival.  The great thing is we pre-paid prior to the vacation.  We purchased a meal plan and, therefore, even had food paid for a month before departure.  My bill upon leaving Disney was less than $200 for a 7 night stay, which was mostly pre-saved money my kids each had for souvenirs! 

Even just talking about it gets us all excited.  I suggest you have some discussion about family goals for vacationing together and for budgeting.  Kids are so much more appreciative when they see the work behind it all.  It means more to them when they also experience the sacrifice.  Have fun getting started and best of luck!