Mamazina Blog

The Mind of a Woman by Maureen Locher

Little black kittens have crossed my path in the past two days. Am I superstitious? No, not at all. Well, I guess I wouldn’t purposely walk under a ladder, but mirrors have broken with no harm so, no, I’m not superstitious.

Back to the kitties. While whizzing on the expressway a small ball of black fluff caught my and my children’s eyes in the middle of the passing lane. Able to straddle it I did so, sure it was dead. Just as our car approached, it moved! And we could see that it was not merely the wind from our car. This teeny tiny creature was alive. What to do? What to do? Nothing…unfortunately. A high speed rescue would have put my own children’s lives in harm’s way. I drove on. But we sure talked about the little fellow throughout our day hoping he made his way to the median strip in one piece. We like to think he did.

Early in the morning of the next day I saw another little black kitten in the middle of a less traveled road. Sadly, this one was unmistakably stretched out and still. This little guy didn’t make it. A kind Samaritan had just emerged from her business with plastic bags to dispose of the little body. She didn’t have to do that. It wasn’t on her property. But she did it. She took the time to do what was right before the little one ended up a smudge. I thought of that kind lady throughout the next day, just as thoughts of the expressway kitty had filled my thoughts the previous day.

Why black kittens? Maybe because not many people would have given two hoots about a groundhog or possum. But a little kitty pulls at our hearts. Kittens are vulnerable and not the usual run-of-the-mill roadkill.

Lessons learned by me? Life is constantly full of choices. As moms we must weigh the pros and cons of most every action for ourselves and for our children. We do it so often we don’t even know we are consciously doing it. We have become so good at filtering and making decisions regarding our families that it is second nature. If Bill Gates could harness the mind of a woman and replicate it, that would be the greatest of all computers.

To all moms reading ~ Here’s a cyberspace pat on the back ~ Great job! J

Maureen enjoys her work as columnist of Just Another Manic Momday for Mom Writer’s Literary Magazine, as well as the opportunity to sneak peek all our women’s work in every issue, as she is also MWLM’s copy editor. Click over to http://maureenlocher.blogspot.com/ ~To Give God ~ for more of Maureen’s musings. And keep a lookout for black kitties!

The double birthday

OK, OK, so I turn 31 tomorrow.  But that's not the big news.

The big news, as it has been for the past 7 years, is that my daughter turned 7, just 4 days ago.  So this year, like every year, we celebrate the double birthday which feels more like the longest birthday ever. 

It starts with her actual birthday and between friends and family and my birthday, we've got a solid week of cake and wrapping paper.  It's all very wonderful, but the older I get, the more I realize what I really want for my birthday --I want to give my daughter a fabulous birthday.

And it's no exception this year.  I will be spending my actual birthday in insane preparation for her birthday party with her friends.  You know how when planning a party you figure that 60-70% of the invites will actually attend?  Not so much in this case.  I'm going to be pushing 20 kids.  At my house.  All arriving for the so-called "tournament of fun."

Call me old-fashioned, but I'm taking back the birthday party.  As much as I like skee-ball and laser tag, I've had enough.  Before my kid gets too old I'm going to sqeeze in one more water balloon toss, one more three-legged race, one more dizzy lizzy.  I'll spend my actual birthday running around, creating our face-painting booth and our tattoo booth and getting the campfire ring filled with the fuel to end our birthday event with glowing embers.

Sure I'll sweat and panic and be the headless chicken that I am, but I'll love every second of it.  It's exactly what I want for my birthday.

www.KarrieMcAllister.com

Making Bread and Other Things

I made my first two loaves of bread ever in my life over the weekend. They turned out absolutely perfect in every way. It was just your basic white bread. It may have gone to my head a little, because the pickles we made certainly did not turn out perfect. They are salvageable, could be made into relish, perhaps. But they were soggy. Nobody likes a soggy pickle. Also, I put pickling spices in with the Dill pickles and that turned out less than satisfactory.

I figured I needed to learn how to make bread for several reasons.  We go through alot of it. We make sandwiches, toast, bread with goat cheese (or the Mango-Raspberry Jam....) for snacks, etc. We also don't buy the cheap stuff (mostly). We usually get artisan type, quality breads made locally-La Panciata, the Manghi's Bread, Red Hen Bakery, O Bread, etc. They aren't too cheap and it adds up.

Also, the process of making bread is so incredible. So satisfying. So very....sensual. Powerful. Magical. Kneading the bread puts you in some sort of bread-making trance.

Next on the list? I made some sourdough starter this afternoon. That will take a week or so to be ready, but will be making some sourdough bread soon-my favorite kind!

The cooking bug seems to have hit me, because I also made a blueberry cobbler from scratch, a coconut banana bread (which was delicious), the pickles and sourdough starter mentioned above. Fine with me.
Fine with my family too.

 

Kris Underwood, Writer's Resource Editor
Blogging at: Writing In The Mountains
Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/KrisUnderwood

Great Expectations

Why are we so hard on ourselves? Being a mom can be such a great adventure. Yet most of us never get past the point of our reality not meeting our expectations. Generation after generation of our children fight the same hurdles.

Look at yourself in the mirror. Discover and revel in who you are. Enjoy every aspect of your children's lives and forget expectations! The reality in your life is so much more colorful and rich than your expectations were anyways.

Learn this truth and teach it to your children before they repeat the cycle.

~ Dionna Sanchez (Keeping It Real Columnist)

You still have time

Our daughters have a super long summer break this year which means they will be at school on Sept. 2.  We usually go back around August 20 so it will be interesting to see how we fill our days with activity when most things are on a fall schedule and we are not.

Just the other day, someone was saying that summer was just going too fast.  What makes something go too fast?  Not doing the things you want?  Filling days only with things your have to do.....make today count and enjoy it.

For example, I am spending the day with about 30 friends including their children at a grill out at my house.  I always want to make time to do that.

Kathy Schlaeger lives near Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband and three daughters.

The Garden Room

She called it her garden room. She was four years old then, and the floral theme in her first "big-girl" bedroom delighted her. 

We painted the walls pink and hung lacy little curtains at the window. We used stencils to paint dainty flowers on the pink walls. She held the brush and proudly created a few of them all by herself. Some of her work went outside the lines. So did some of mine. Colorful smudges took the place of the intended clean, stenciled edges, as if the flowers on the wall were blowing in a gentle breeze. We decided to leave it that way.

I nailed a small wooden bench to a section of picket fencing. Then, together, we painted the whole structure white and added more stenciled flowers -- red roses this time -- all over the bench. We wove fake ivy and silk flowers along the fencing to complete the look. The bench and its fence were secured to one of my daughter's bedroom walls, and a mirror -- bordered with glued-on ivy and still more silk flowers -- was mounted above.

She'd sit on that bench in her garden room, cuddling her crew of stuffed animals, and she would pretend she was in a real garden. Some days, she'd play dress-up in front of the mirror, wearing a lovely hat adorned, naturally, with flowers. Once, I walked in to find her breathing deeply.

“I’m just smelling all of my flowers, Mommy,” she said simply.  At that moment, I could smell them too.

Occasionally, I was invited in for tea parties. These were formal affairs at which I was expected to wear a pretty hat and conduct myself in a manner befitting my lovely surroundings. Sometimes I succeeded at this, but often -- too often -- I was so preoccupied with the day's must-do tasks that I failed to fully enjoy the garden party.

Many days, after I’d excused myself and rushed out, she would carry on the party with her faithful, fuzzy friends. Later, I’d find her curled up on the bench asleep, her head resting on them.

Sadly or not – depending on your perspective -- the garden room is no more. My flower child has grown into a teenager, a Mary Quite Contrary who has long been embarrassed by her blooming bedroom.

So this summer we finally updated it. We took down the bench and its fencing and put them in the garage. We removed the prettily painted shelf with its daisy-shaped knobs underneath that held trophies and ribbons and other childhood memorabilia.

We painted the room lime green – yes, heaven help me, lime green -- because that’s the color desired by the girl whose legs are now longer than the quaint bench she used to nap on.   She also wanted black, functional-looking furniture with nary a flower to be found.  And she has plastered the walls with posters of young male actors and rock stars who look like they could use an attitude adjustment. When I told her that I preferred flowers on the walls, she informed me I'd turned into an old fuddy duddy. She’s right. And what amuses me is that I’m OK with that.

The other day, I stood in the garage and stared at the still-beautiful little bench, symbol now of a line crossed in the inevitable journey out of childhood, a journey that seems to have passed in the blink of an eye. What I wouldn’t give to attend one more tea party.

© Jackie Papandrew 2008, All Rights Reserved

Please visit Jackie’s website at www.jackiepapandrew.com.