Mothership Meals and Satellite Saucers: Tiny Fingers and Toes

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Tiny Fingers and Toes

Historically, January is one of my least favorite months. It's such a dismal letdown after the splendor and excitement of the holidays. Cold, dark, frozen and boring. And four months left til anything green happens.

It doesn't feel that way this year. It feels like a year still in its infancy, like a brand new, unrealized baby. Newborns are sort of boring, right? They don't really smile at you or laugh or talk or do funny things. The wonder of them is all in their potential, this unformed, unseen future.

So I'm thinking of the new year in the same way. It's not that this part of its life is boring, it's that everything cool and great and inspiring and new hasn't happened yet. It's all about the potential.

So instead of resolutions, which seem mired in the past and full of recrimination, I'm doing imaginations. Sitting over the crib, peering at the tiny fingers and toes, and imagining the great things that are either definitely or maybe or hopefully going to happen this year. None of which include weighing five pounds less or cutting out refined carbs. But all of which still seem to be related to food, imagine that.

Here's the I'm-pretty-sure-this-will-happen part and love-thinking-about-it part:

1- I go to grad school, starting next week. I got accepted to the masters program in Food Studies at NYU, and I start next week. I looked for a food or nutrition masters program for a while, and this was the only one that quickened my pulse when I read the course list. It feels like a delicious, mad indulgence... and maybe it is.

2- My son goes to sleepaway camp at Farm and Wilderness, something I've looked forward to him doing for years. If you feel like getting weepy, check out the videos, or maybe it's just me. The kids take care of farm animals and learn wilderness survival skills and work in the garden and go on overnight camping trips and have silent meetings in the woods. It's so groovy and awesome. I can't wait for him to go.

3- We get chickens. We've been talking about it for a long time and this could be the year. We live in Brooklyn, so this is a little weird, I admit, but people do it. Three, maybe four chickens, in a little coop. I'm thinking about auracanas, which lay the colored eggs, but am also intrigued by various gorgeous and bizarre-looking breeds.

4- My husband finishes re-doing our kitchen. It's only been two weeks without a downstairs bathroom or a laundry, so I can't get melodramatic or weepy about it just yet. The dream is that it gets done, all of it, including the picture window-installation by... spring?

5- We get a new wireless router and I start being able to post pictures on my blog again! (for those of you wondering whatever happened to those gingerbread house pictures -- and I know there are a lot of you out there -- now you know where to lay the blame.)

okay here's the dreamy part, the things that I might have to have another year or two if I really want them done:

-We buy a little house in the Catskills with a lot of land attached to it, and then move up there and sit out the middle school years which are fast approaching (my son is in 4th grade now), surrounded by garden and mountains and fresh air and horses and chickens.

-I finally see my friend Blake, who lives in Italy, and whom I haven't seen since we were in our 20's and have begun to despair of it ever happening. We've never even met each other's kids.

- We start a rooftop garden on the roof of our elderly neighbor's outbuilding (he said we could, but we have some other things to take care [see above, #4]). This might be for the next year.

That's about it. What a precious, lovely year! Such cute little weeks and days! But they'll be getting bigger and stronger and more lively very soon. I'll keep you all posted as my lovely little baby-year grows and matures.

Happy New Year!

No comments:

Post a Comment

The Mothership Method

(Or, how to sit down for dinner with your family without completely losing your mind)

It would be great if kids AND parents wanted boiled chicken and baby carrots every night for dinner. But, too bad, we picky parents want spicy, exotic, fun foods, and our kids want, well, sorta lame foods.
Here's the solution: break it down. Serve the dish deconstructed, and let everyone put their own dish together at the table. Sort of like tapas, or smorgasbord, or tacos. Or how in some parts of China you get a bowl of rice, and everything else is in the middle of the table and you take what you want for your own little bowl of rice. That way everyone gets to eat what they want, parents don't have to nag their kids, and kids get to feels some ownership over their meals. Plus, kids get exposed to the look and taste of the foods you hope they will one day love. But it's not just tacos. You'll be amazed at what can be served with the Mothership Method.

Ten Tips to Get Through Dinner Without Having A Nervous Breakdown

1. Accept That Kids Are Picky. No need to freak out on your cooking ability, or look at your kids like there is something wrong with them. It's called "neo-phobia", and it's just how they are, especially from ages 3-6.

2. Serve Meals Broken Down. Even grown-up meals like coconut curry or linguine with clams can be served in their elements, making them more appealing to kids. Grown ups can assemble their own jumble of deliciousness at their own plate while kids take on the pared-down elements.

3. Push if it Works, But Don't Nag If It Doesn't. Some kids are okay with being expected to taste everything on their plate. Others aren't. I think it's okay to push kids -- but not if you're turning dinner into a battlefield.

4. Suggest a Smell. Smelling a new food is easier than tasting it, and can sometimes provide a kid with the information needed to take that scary first bite. But don't confine smelling to new foods. Smell favorites, too, and help them develop their sense of smell by making a game out of it.

5. Don't Ask "Do You Like It?" Instead, try, "What does this remind you of?" or, "Would your cousins like this?" or, "Does this taste salty or sweet?". Asking if they like it or not gives kids too much power and ends the conversation. Besides, we don't care if they like it! We just want them to keep tasting it until it is familiar.

6. Don't Get Frustrated. Imagine being in Taiwan, or Nairobi, or Rome for the first time. Would you eat everything on the local menu? New foods are scary and gross. Our kids need time to learn about the foods that we eat.

7. No SubstitutionsThis is family dinner, not a diner. You, in all your wisdom, have provided foods that are healthy and delicious and appropriate for your children. There is something on the table for them to eat. Period.

8. No Snacks Before Dinner. This can be the hardest with our hectic schedules and hungry kids. But children who come to the table hungry are more likely to eat than cause trouble.

9. Put Peer Pressure To Your Advantage. School children are more likely to accept new foods if the alpha girls in their group accept them. Swap healthy food ideas on playdates.

10. Involve Your Kids In Cooking, Shopping, and Gardening. The more experience kids have handling and preparing a variety of foods, the more likely they are to eventually accept the foods. (But don't get upset if they help you make a complicated wonderful meal, and then refuse to eat it.)