Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Pax! Pax!

enter, the peas.
 Three types of them, to be precise - but the specifics of peadom were irrelevant next to the joy of the boy collecting stuff. Sigh.

No, wait - I lie. In truth, we love our jaunts out to the farm, especially this lovely local one. Getting ourselves out of the house takes a crack bunch of sheepdogs right now, and occasionally leaves me hoarse and gasping words that I really would rather the boys didn't learn. But then we're out, and a zip down the road from this quiet greenness, a wisely shaded picnic table, and this:
 In the field, the boys stop grumping about having to brush their teeth, there is no Lego to divert them to absolutely essential something that must come before changing out of their jammies. And I try not to gape at the idea that all of this joyful, careful focus is happening over - peas.
Yep. Snap peas, sugar peas, snow peas - and now? our peas.

What on earth will I do with them all?

Sunday, July 17, 2011

did someone say go?

Somehow, speed and this oh my gawd, it be hot doesn't seem to go together in my eyes - but the boys seem to operate according to an entirely different set of specs. Which would explain, come to think of it, oh so much.

A couple of months ago, we were given a hand-me-down bike. Gig fell in love with it, mourned when it was too big, and reluctantly allowed the Eldest to sit on it. Briefly. When removed from the bike, the Eldest screeched bloody murder - the bike was too tall for him, also.

The Man shook his head. Maybe if we took it to a bike shop? 


Upstairs, the boys squabbled over the blue bike - no, the purple! - the one with the bell! - but can't Mum move the bell? - oh, yeah, but I want the one without the training wheels - oh, me too! said his sibling, gloriously indifferent to his lack of two-wheeled experience. Me, too, he repeated. Firmly.

1.2 inches of seat adjustment later, and we had ourselves some speed. Irregular and slightly scraped at first, but then? Then we had this:


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And, to be fair, they did slow down so that my poor wee camera could capture them.
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Feeding the speed demons requires an equally speedy dinner, because while they might be fast on the road, the lads flag quickly when its time to come inside. But this salmon and salad meal gets thrown together in about 20 minutes, with a little advance prep.

garlic, with a little yogurt & dill sauce:
adapted from (no joke) Garlic, Garlic, Garlic - credit for the adaptation goes to one of our favorite children's librarians. 
1 1/2 cups plain yogurt
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
2 fat cloves garlic, pressed or minced
freshly ground pepper
1 tsp dried oregano, or 1/2 tsp fresh
1 big handful chopped dill
optional: a sprinkle of mint

Mix thoroughly, and set aside. Covered, the sauce should keep in the refrigerator for a week.

Meanwhile....take a slab of salmon, drizzle with olive oil, salt, freshly ground black pepper. Drizzle a bit of maple syrup on top. Grill or broil until it flakes gently in the middle.

Into a bowl, toss a whatever is in the fridge salad. Yesterday, this salad looked like this:

1/2 of a small Napa cabbage, thinly sliced
a shred of a radiccio
a handful of lettuce from our garden
thin strips of apples
2 scallions, sliced
a big spoonful of green olives
1 underripe mango, sliced into strips

Toss in the bowl, along with a dressing. Yesterday, our dressing was: olive oil (drizzle on salad, toss until salad is coated), salt, pepper, garlic powder (toss again, until spices are distributed). A spritz or two of Bragg's (a recommendation from a wise friend, whose children eat kale - think of it, kale! - with Bragg's sprayed on top), a drizzle of honey (1 Tb?) and a tablespoon or so of vinegar.

Serve with a bowl of leftover rice, or some boiled potatoes - preferably the wonderfully lumpy ones that Gig picked out at the market, and then was only reluctantly persuaded to share. The slightly charred, caramelized flavors of the fish match up nicely with the slightly sweet salad. There might be more subtle ways to balance this gentle, summery sweetness, but I'm not a subtle person. I like the coolness and the garlicky bite of the yogurt sauce, and I know that tomorrow, it'll be lovely with just the boiled potatoes, a pickle or two, and a peach. The day after, I'll probably use the sauce as a salad dressing...but I'll wait a couple of days after that, before I use it as a dipping sauce for some pan-fried tilapia. 

And then? peas.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

best. QOL. evah.

Nowadays, it seems as if children's mental health is climbing onto the medical radar, and spreading until it gunks up the wipers. As it should - too many kids, saith my not at all educated self, are left to struggle with depression and mental illness. People should find these kids and help them, and no, I'm not going to swear to add emphasis to the statement. They just should.

With that, of course, comes the QOL form - the quality of life form.

Is your child happy? sad? in trouble at school? do they talk about anxiety? do they say that they feel down? do you think that they are anxious? do you think that they are happy? sad? in trouble at school? 

I have an amazing urge to write it depends all over these things, but I do appreciate their significance. Mental illness happens to all kids - the ones with the chronic diagnoses are simply best poised to get screened over and over. Which is perhaps unfair. Still, I do appreciate the pop of studies by people are realizing that hello? chronic illness is actually an additional thing to ask of a kid. And that kids' response to illness is unpredictable. QOL studies - and I'm too tired to go find you links, but look up QOL and pediatric cancer, resilience, etc on pubmed and read carefully. Especially, read the bit about how parents tend to rate their kids as unhappier than the kids say they are.

I love the bit where the researchers think carefully about how to prove that the kids aren't lying. Or so extraordinarily socially adept that they know to say that they're just fine, as the Eldest did, when asked by doctors doing their morning rounds.

How are you feeling this morning, kiddo?
The Eldest summoned a big smile and bright eyes. Oh, just fine.
Hey, said the doc du jour, that's great!
Yes, said the Eldest with a degree of satisfaction. So? Can I go home now?


Truly, the doctor should not have been surprised. Happily for him, he joined the rest of us in laughing our asses off while the Eldest looked on, somewhat hurt.

And thus, the QOL.

Which is how the Man and I found ourselves looking at the following question: Does your child get into more trouble at home than his sibling?


And our answer: You should meet the sibling.