First, I picked a date for hot cocoa and wish lists. I set the counter up as I might for a craft project by putting out pencils, erasers, colored markers, catalogs, whole punches, etc.
Second, I showed each of the kids how to start a letter to Santa.
Third, I let the kids draft out their long lists of wishes. They could put anything (and as many things as) they wanted on their lists - no editing or shoulds allowed from mom.
The lists were very long and included big deals such as Guinea Pigs, slide projectors, new bicycles and skateboards, as well as little deals such as lip gloss and candy.
Finally, and this is the magical part, I asked them to take their long lists and to choose something for their head, (books or knowledge-based learning), something for their heart (an animal to love, athletic equipment), something for their hands (yarn for knitting, blocks, or projects to build and cook), and something for our home (a family game, a supply of fancy paper, new pastels).
As the children made trade-offs, I talked to them about balance and about happiness being a sign of a person using many of his or her gifts throughout a lifetime. They seemed to understand the connection, but expect a lot of discussion, negotiation, even some disappointments...
Finally, they wrote up their edited lists on a fresh piece of paper to Santa and decorated it. If there was anything either of them felt really strongly about including (in addition to the 4-Hs), we would just keep talking about it. I even asked them to add one wish for someone else . . . to integrate the idea of charitable giving.
This approach to how to make a Christmas wish list takes time and some thought. But it can help ease the blind consumerism the tradition can bring ... while transforming it into a mini plan.
I like that the kids are learning simple consciousness about their wishes, something I still practice myself. And while they won't get everything on their lists, they deal with the disappointments before Christmas morning. That makes "a little room" for the spirit of Christmas to come in.
The affections deep
The clean-up easy
The leftovers keep.
Should the family without
Need a little of yours
May you find the will
To give something, of course.
May our earth spin lovely
Extended in space
May the story of harvest
Bring a welcomed grace
To those far away
from our table this day
may their lives be felt
through the words we say.
Thank you! we are grateful
We are grateful for life.
Thank you! we are grateful
For this day of less strife.
Soldiers and preachers,
Politicians and press
Gather at the table
Take this rest.
Child and mother
Farmer and cook
The day of Thanksgiving
Is here - go. Look.
Let go of drudgery
Let the meal be a feast
On tastes and smells
For the smallest, the least
Serve love, forgiveness
Good pie, good wine.
In these uncertain times.
And tomorrow when memories
are all you can hold
Loosen your grip
And let life unfold...
There is much to learn
And so much to do
Believe in life's goodness
As it comes to you.
posted by Coco Kraft Thanksgiving morning 2007
I found this quote from Humberto Maturana and had to share it. It is very dense and difficult to get. Please try a couple of times before giving up... Then I challenge you to write the same idea in a Haiku or less.
"When one puts objectivity in parenthesis, all views, all verses in the multiverse are equally valid. Understanding this, you lose the passion for changing the other. One of the results is that you look apathetic to people. Now, those who do not live with objectivity in parentheses have a passion for changing the other.
So they have this passion and you do not.
For example, at the university where I work, people may say, ‘Humberto is not really interested in anything,’ because I don’t have the passion in the same sense that the person (who has) objectivity without parentheses. And I think that this is the main difficulty.
To other people you may seem too tolerant. However, if the others also put objectivity in parentheses , you discover that disagreements can only be solved by entering a domain of co-inspiration, in which things are done together because the participants want to do them. With objectivity in parentheses, it is easy to do things together because one is not denying the other in the process of doing them."
Humberto Maturana - Interview 1985.
Perhaps I should have lounged around today - gone shopping, sat on the couch with Oprah, read, enjoyed how much prettier my home is than my cube at work.
But this week our annual book fair starts. Since I volunteered to run it (again) with my favorite team of ladies (last year) I will not be sitting (at all) until more than $15K worth of $2.99 children's books are sold by Friday evening.
How's that for a healthy transition and giving yourself room to stay in the present? More like what happens when two fronts meet...
On the bright side, it is amazing how we moms can (and do) express aspects of our identities by sequencing in and out of various roles.
Last week I was polishing data, this week I am hauling an enormous polar bear skin and skull in my trunk. They are props for the World Wildlife Fund's polar bears and puffins presentation at Book Fair (Blizzard!) kick-off.
Last week I wondered where to have lunch with colleagues, this week I am wondering what to pack for lunch.
Last week I worried about my colleagues in transition, this week I am worrying that my kids are going too fast on the cool new pedal car our Dutch neighbors loaned them.
It is unexpected that as I write this post, I feel my tone shift from viewing my at-home mom work as part folly, to viewing it, more rightly, as just as good a place as any to practice my talents and interests.
No, I am never paid. I will never like that. But when I arrived at school yesterday and friends that I had only seen in passing since last year stopped to catch up and give me hugs, I felt so lucky to be a part of both worlds. Even my kids came running toward me with arms outstretched when I surprised them by being there at pick up.
I think it is just fine that I am back here for a while.
I’d assumed that I’d stick it out with the company for at least another year or two, long enough to save for a down payment on a house, launch a freelance career and pop out a kid. The sudden shake-up could put my three-year plan on hold or it could kick it into high gear.
I’ve been up and down all week, feeling relieved (I had been unhappy for several months), angry (how could they do this to me?), worried (how long will it take me to find work?), hurt (I had committed almost two years to this company and for what?) and, finally, excited (now’s my chance to take on new and exciting projects!) — all normal sentiments, I’m told.
Looking for a new job is basically a full-time gig. And when you’re new to a job — as I’m new to the job hunt — you’re bound to learn a few things. Here are three key take-aways from my first week:
1. Loyalty is dead—maybe. “Never believe in the company. The company does not believe in you,” someone wrote last week on Valleywag, a tech industry gossip blog. That’s harsh, but it does ring true. I knew that the days of working for one company were long gone, but I believed in this particular start-up’s mission. And I felt that after devoting two years, I’d feel a little more love.
2. Diversify your skills. Be willing to adapt. But don’t lose sight of what you do best. “People who will succeed and excel over time will be dedicated to the prospect that what they do has value,” Alfred Edmund, editor-in-chief of Black Enterprise, recently told Folio: magazine. I hope he’s right.
3. Find and give support. Did you know that 65 percent of jobs are found through networking? Maybe you did. But this was news to me. Studies show that having strong social ties makes us healthier. And your friends, relatives and colleagues also can help you land your next job.
Women, in particular, need to stick together. So many of us struggle with balancing work and family life. (Yes, men do, too, but I’d argue that this is a bigger issue for us.) And family-friendly workplaces are few and far between these days. We can help one another. If you’re in a position to offer part-time work or job-share opportunities, do! There are a lot of long-hour jobs out there but so few professional part-time positions.
And if you’re hiring, let me know!
Lauren Gamber is a writer and editor living in Cleveland, Ohio. Check out her profile on LinkedIn.
For now, I'll add that in addition to learning a bunch of good stuff, catching up on technology innovation, web moves, and interesting social tidbits, I am left with a bewildering sense of flux. It is always good practice to be mindful of flux, but for flux sake, as Tiger Lilly Mazlish says, "Go look for the layer under the top layer and dig in."
What is next is already, and already is in flux too. The yoga of flux is called flow.
Coco's Fish Dish for 6-8
Chop two white onions fine.
Saute in butter and garlic (3-8 cloves, all depends on your mood)
Add a couple of teaspoons of Turmeric, and a teaspoon or so of your favorite pepper. (I used chipotle pepper powder, but you could use another.)
Take two big handfuls of coconut flakes, put them in a strainer and give them a rinse. (I had only sweetened coconut flakes on hand, and since the sweetness would ruin the dish, I gave them a rinse). Drain the coconut flakes well, then add to the saute mixture. Get the heat going up again. Take the pan off the fire before anything starts "browning." If you need more butter, add it.
Pass the saute through the Cuisinart. Add Wolfgang puck's rich veggie stock and heavy cream in roughly equal proportions. Blend until the consistency is like a good milkshake, not runny at all. Add more salt and some pepper.
To finish, take a taste, add something unique like a pinch of aromatic Cardamon powder.
Using a simple Pyrex baking dish, lay out your fish fillets (anything white and somewhat firm, such as haddock, flounder, tilapia). Pour the sauce over the fish. Cover with foil and bake in a 350 oven for as long as it needs ... (I used 10 tilapia fillets, layered in the pan, and I baked the dish for approximately 45 minutes.)
Let the dish set for ten minutes after removing from the over. Then spoon it onto a platter full of hot Basmati rice. Garnish with fresh green cilantro. Serve to people you love and want in your home :)
A note about how I cook:
It is much more fun (but, admittedly, more risky) to put food together like a musician puts together improvisational jazz - with a bunch of instinct and a lot of chaos. If it sounds arrogant, I am sorry, it probably is. But listen, I don't recommend this approach to all and nor do I think the results are always great ... it's just that that's how I roll, and rather than B.S.ing you through a conventional "cooking for friends" blog, that ends up feeling like a Pottery Barn ad, I'll give you a peek at the framework that works for me on a Saturday when friends are coming over. I am no beginner in the kitchen; I've had a lot of training, but I think it's important for us all to learn how to sense our way through cooking dinner just the same way we put outfits together with flair...
More later. Go Red Sox!
Most people misunderstand wetlands; they often downright hate them. I think perhaps we confuse wetlands with wastelands. Whatever the reason, to these folks, bogs are not enchanted, life-filled environments, just pools and puddles of still water for pests to breed.
For me, wetlands capture and express the poetry of a soul's shadowy side; the murky processes of letting go, of reaching forth, of muddling on through.
Physicians see horrible things, tragic injustices caused by unexpected disease and circumstance. We do what we can to remain compassionate - to be emotionally "present" and yet to keep the professional distance required for our survival and success. It takes courage to set a bone, crack a chest, to do painful procedures to save lives - there must be no hesitation when minutes count.
And I suppose that our saving grace is that the majority of the patients we meet in tragic circumstances are not personally known to us. We appreciate their humanity in a general sense, but are not pierced and incapacitated by a family tie or bond of friendship. We are pained by their suffering - but we can cope.
That is, until we're confronted with a loved one who is thrust into tragedy. Two days ago, a dear friend and former coworker called me to say that she had been diagnosed with colon cancer that had metastasized to her liver. She had just given birth to her first child at age 41. Her only symptom? Post-partum fatigue.
My friend is a health nut and athlete - she has lived the "gold standard" life from a preventive health perspective. I always wanted to be more like her - eating lots of veggies and running regularly. She has been at her target weight all her life, has the occasional glass of wine, and spends much of her free time in community service projects and charity work. She has no history of cancer in her family - they are all hardworking, clean-living types who enjoy long, productive lives.
So when she told me about her advanced disease I almost fell off my chair. How could this happen to her? She is too young! She doesn't fit the right description... Why didn't I catch this sooner? Did she ever give me any hint of a warning symptom?
She told me that after having her baby she just felt really tired and was unable to bounce back as quickly as expected. I was worried about post-partum depression, and she eventually decided to see a family physician about her fatigue. He was unclear as to its root cause, and ordered a broad range of general blood tests - including liver function tests. They turned out to be abnormal, and he inquired as to whether my friend might be a drinker. She denied any such tendencies, so he scheduled an ultrasound. The ultrasonographer noted the appearance of metastatic cancer - she had a CT scan and a colonoscopy to confirm the diagnosis of colon cancer. We were both in shock.
And now as my dear friend faces likely surgeries and chemotherapy, I am witness to her journey - the same one that I've observed in strangers - but this time I have no professional defenses. I will watch as her body is wracked by the disease's treatments, I will understand the individual circumstances behind her bravery, I'll know and feel everything in a personal way that I can't control.
I am about to join the millions of cancer patients and their families on the other side of the examining room. This time I'm not the doctor, I'm the close friend who rages against a disease that is not fair. And I am ready to fight.
Thank you, Dr. Val. Please send an update on your friend soon ...
6 years ago I met a man named Tim. It was electric and unlike anything either of us had experienced. Our lives were complicated, however.
I was the mother of a three year old, separated for a long time from my husband of seven years. Tim was freshly divorced with a 3-year-old daughter. I knew that divorce was the right thing for me to do, but I was too scared to do it. There was a sense of shame and failure that I could not shake. As a child of divorce, I knew how hard and debilitating divorce could be.
Tim and I talked about sharing our lives and children together and living under one roof. I would entertain the idea now and again, but never fully embraced it. I couldn't. The messages given to me by my mother about men and marriage haunted me in ways that I only now, at 41, have started to understand. Her conscious decision to be alone; her consistent blaming of my father for the disintegration of their marriage; her inability to see that the success or failure of a relationship is the work of two people not one; colored the way I viewed my own relationship. Keeping Tim at arms length felt safer, but over time less satisfying and less interesting for our children and us. By not fully embracing my relationship, I thought I was protecting my son from further change and the potential for another failed relationship. Instead I was creating the same debilitating models for him that my mom had set for me.
The change has come at a cost. There is distance between my mom and I. The payoff, however, is great -- an incredibly passionate, exciting, healthy and loving relationship with Tim. It doesn’t look like my mom’s relationship. It looks like mine and it feels amazing.
I still have concerns. The difference is, the concerns are mine, not my mom’s. Here's what I have decided: Tim and I, along with our children, will be living together as a family, starting in March.
Write again soon, Open Hearted. This is exciting.
Once a month I go to the news agent and buy $50.00 in English language magazines. Not Cosmopolitan, People or Glamor; I don't want to read "How to Drive Him Mad in Bed", or, go "Inside Hollywood's Worst Divorces" and though "Thin Thighs in Thirty Days" does have some appeal, 'diet and exercise' really isn't worth the $10.00 sticker price. No, I buy Traveller, House and Garden and Bon Appétit. After the purchase, I put them aside till I have a day where nothing is on my to-do list, and then I pop some Italian opera and Edith Piaf in the CD player, and I sit, pajama-clad, on the floor and spread their glossy promise around me like birthday presents, and begin to read and clip pieces that describe, cozy inns and undiscovered villages; articles that feature rich textiles and use the phrases like "bespoke furniture"; then I move on to wine suggestions and recipes that let me experiment with exotic spices or delicate seasonings.
Now here's the thing, this day spent with a few magazines transports me to that amazing place, the "Realm of the Possible". I will never live like the stars, I won't ever look like the 17 year old models in Glamor and I surely don’t need life advice from Cosmo, but I can sing along with the doomed Edith or the Italian diva, because in the "Realm of the Possible" I speak perfect French and Italian, and I might be able to visit the rustic, country inn in Croatia, and I might find that perfect heirloom rug that transforms my sitting room into a warm, inviting place of mental refuge, and I may prepare an unforgettable meal, entertaining dear friends in my candlelit garden, where everyone laughs and enjoys themselves, warmed by good food and drink. After all, these are the best kinds of fantasies, the ones that flirt with possible reality.
Write again soon, Swiss Alps Jill. We like to build international forces.
Remember, assertiveness or bitchiness is always in the eye of the beholder, not the speaker. That means that depending on what someone’s got at stake in any given matter, a comment heard simultaneously by two people may be seem bitchy by one and fabulously assertive by the other. For instance, if your boss needs someone to message up about problems at work, he may appreciate an outspoken approach that combines preparedness and knowledge of business issues. If a colleague in the same meeting, however, feels threatened by you and your sharp mind and/or ability to speak up, you will have a hard time convincing her that you aren’t a bitch no matter what you say at the meeting.
Bottom line: in any given scenario, some will find you bitchy and some will find you effective. And that is why the issue at hand is not whether you are bitchy or assertive, but how you feel about your behavior, moment to moment. The woman in the example above is feeling self-assured, and prepared, so she speaks up. As long as she isn’t tromping on others’ rights and condemning her peers, she will, over time, become a valued team player. If, on the other hand, she is often working in an isolated manner, and appears repeatedly as a self-serving person, her peers and ultimately management will tell her fate.
At a very young age we women are conditioned into receiving (and asking) for cues from others in order to behave appropriately. Do you like me? Am I pretty? Am I lovable? These are the common questions of young girls … young ladies … and, unfortunately, older women as well.
But if we are on a satisfactory path, a key shift in our development may come sometime between thirty and fifty. This shift will land the authority for our behavior within us, not outside of us, so that when we act or speak, we are more fully in charge of the intentions we carry.
A quick glance around any office may reveal a key difference between women who are powerful and women who are bitches. What is the difference? Assertive, effective women are generally fair, consistent, and knowledgeable, and they exhibit compassion for others even when the other is an adversary.
Effective women have authority over themselves and try to keep the focus on business or personal goals. They conduct their affairs transparently, saving certain topics for appropriate settings. Women who are assertive do not talk about others maliciously, and usually hold themselves to a very high standard of conduct. That said, somehow the most effective women I know are also: fun, creative, and terrific mentors.
In closing, assertive women aren’t perfect; but they do know themselves well enough to know when they have behaved like a bitch. And then they do what is most effective: apologize and commit to doing better next time.
Today is World Food Day. A time to reflect on where our food comes from: the abundance for some and lack of for so many others. It is also a time to think about the history and future of our food.
Observed on this date since 1981, World Food Day brings more than 150 nations together to help increase awareness and understanding of the plight of hunger, malnutrition, and poverty on our nations. Severe food insecurity continues to afflict more than 850 million people. It also leaves little time for a nation to do much else in terms of development. In Gambia, for example, almost all of the population are "subsistence farmers" - which means that day in and day out, year after year, their lives are devoted to planting and harvesting food just to support their families. "Remember food is precious", says Alice Waters, author of The Art of Simple Food: Notes, Lessons, and Recipes from a Delicious Revolution. "Food should never be taken for granted". (Check out and sign up for Loulies's Cook the Book Club.)
Rice, the seed of a semi-aquatic grass, is the world's number one food crop. It is the most important staple crop for more than 50 percent of the global population. In China, the word for "rice" is actually a synonym for "food". In Japan, the word for "cooked rice" means the same as the word "meal".
FIVE WAYS TO COOK RICE:
Coconut Rice - 1 c. raw rice cooked with 1 ½ c. water and ½ c. coconut milk, 2 Tbls. shredded, unsweetened coconut, 2 Tbls. honey, ½ tsp. salt, and a pinch of allspice.
Curried Rice - 1 c. raw rice cooked with 2 c. chicken or vegetable broth, 1 tsp. curry powder and 3 Tbls. dried currants.
Ginger-Soy Rice - 1c. raw rice cooked with 2 c. water, 2 tsp. each soy sauce and grated fresh ginger, and 2 whole cloves.
Lemon Rice - 1 c. raw rice cooked with 2 c. water, ½ tsp salt, 2 strips lemon zest, and a pinch of nutmeg.
Saffron Rice - 1 c. raw rice cooked with 2 c. vegetable or chicken broth and a pinch of saffron.
TIP: Basmati and long grain rice can be interchangeable. Basmati, though, has a distinctive fragrance and should be rinsed and soaked before cooking.
1. To Wash Rice: place in a large bowl, fill with water and let rice settle to bottom. After 2-3 seconds, tilt bowl to pour off water. Repeat several times or until the water runs clear. Washing removes the polishing residue and helps keep the grains separate.
2. To Soak Rice: add twice the amount of cold water as there is raw rice. Let soak for thirty minutes, then drain. Soaking helps to ensure that the grain cooks evenly and it really does make a difference.
FIVE THINGS I LOVE AND FIVE THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOGA
LOVE YOGA BECAUSE:
1. It combines movement and breath and takes me outside of monkey mind (most of the time)
2. It gives me flexibility *and* strength
3. It gets me together with people interested in spiritual growth
4. Wind Relieving Pose (yes, I am definitely in touch with my inner 8-year old boy) and Laughing Baby Pose
5. I set an intention before my practice, which makes my practice a combination of movement and prayer. It is moving prayer in both senses of the phrase, and it connects me to a higher vibrational state of existence, bigger than myself.
6. (please, just one more because I really love yoga) The space in-between when I “play with my edge” –gently, slowly, and deliciously going deeper into a pose, guided by my breath
I HATE YOGA BECAUSE:
1. $100 stretchy yoga pants that look best on women without hips
2. Classes cost $18-20 a session, up from $8-10 a session just 10 years ago
3. Some Hot Yoga teachers think that their way is the only way. That approach encourages overdoing it and injury among Type A competitive types.
4. It can make me feel lethargic. (But as long as I get in my share of yang activities – kickboxing, soccer, and wild living room carpet dancing – then I’m just fine.)
5. More men don’t feel attracted to it, and I sometimes think they need it the most
This second musing on Women's Friendship will focus on obstacles to women's friendship. Let's start with a blog-paced recap of an incredible fairy tale of women: Cinderella.
Cinderella is a motherless daughter living with her stepmother and her two stepsisters. Cinderella is neglected by her father (perhaps his grief immobilizes him?) and is left to be unjustly treated by the brutish women of the house. Throughout the beautiful tale we watch as Cinderella toils. Ultimately, it is magic, a man, her beauty, character, and a strong connection to nature (remember, birds made her gown), that allow her to escape in spite of the shame, physical torment, and dark loneliness engulfing her.
We could talk about the symbols here, and whether the prince is for real, but I would prefer to focus on why it seems so unremarkable to us all that Cinderella's stepmother and stepsisters despised her . This is the key to any good conversation about women's friendship.
Why is it so easy to capture the evil stepmother and stepsisters in short prose? Because they are culturally sanctioned archetypes of every woman's destructive side. Those awful beasts are actually alive within each of our own psyches ... and don't tell me you don't know what I mean ...
How common is it to see this dynamic play out in groups of women? Haven't you been on both sides of the table in your life at least a few times? How have you handled power, wealth, and competition? Have you brought young women along on your ride if you sensed they needed it? Or have you done only what helped you run "the business called you"? It is a private conversation but chances are that you have played Stepmother, Stepsister, and Cinderella in your life.
It is helpful to view the "stepmother" and "stepsisters" as aspects of ourselves that have become disconnected from nature and absorbed in artificial notions of power, money, and control. They manifest as competitive, unloving, spiteful, and harshly judgemental personality traits. What's more is that they are usually socially respectable on a level, so rendering them as "evil" gets a bit dicey because we don't want to live alone.
And as my daily toil beckons, I'll close with a reminder that Cinderella's second family was prominent and socially connected - that's a strong statement from the Brother's Grimm on outward success.
I wonder if we'd be better served by:
His blog 1: Why I always eat too much
Her blog 2: Why I am paranoid
His blog 3: Why road rage feels so good
Her blog 4: Damn, I am exhausted
. . . just to name a few.
At work we study traffic, page views, entrance and exit rates. We look at refers and bounces and other such data. We are asked to swiftly address any less-than-impressive numbers with changes to our content, our design, and our navigation.
But here at this outpost, on the other hand, I experiment with the stuff that I cannot seem to integrate into my life anywhere else. My formula, if I had to write one out could be: confess/pray/confess. Like Jazz, you have to let go of the melody, find the chaos, then bring it back home again. Back home. Back home again and again.
. . . you still awake?
A professor of mine in film school once said that the true story of women's friendship is the biggest topic never covered ... I agree. How can a concept be both profound and cliche at once? It's like describing light: writing about it kills its glow... But since I have been exchanging beautiful e-mails with a friend from far away, I wanted to suggest the subject by covering a related theme: Love.
Love is not a competition but you know when you are winning. Love is not always comfortable, but it usually feels right. Love may not be pretty but is often truly beautiful. Love doesn't look the way you always wish it would but it turns out better than you imagine. Love is inconvenient but is always very efficient. Love is exhausting but perhaps not depleting. Love is not sex but it may be fertile. Love is not praise but often brings affections. Love is not control but often asks for leadership. Love is not ownership but doesn't give without understanding. Love is tireless. Love is disciplined. Love is curious. Love is independent. Love is just letting it happen sometimes ... patiently. Love depends on you. And you depend on love too.
The signal-to-noise ratio is such a handy expression that I often use it in parenting to highlight how to let go of bullying/cliques in the classroom in favor of the good stuff the playground or a book may have to offer.
Underlying the signal-to-noise culture is a deep belief in optimization and the manufacture of peak experience. Is there any area of our lives untouched by this idea? No. We can become better by getting rid of what we don't want . . . Several ad campaigns quickly come to mind.
So here's what I am wondering as it relates to living: Where is the point at which augmentation of the signal actually breaks the signal itself? Are we in danger of losing essential human signals (eye contact, connectedness, intimacy, trust, love, touch, compassion, awareness) on our way to engineering the unwanted noise (slow pace, geographic separateness, the unknown, the risk, the humility, the threats) right out of our lives?
Will the signals break? They are already distorted ... or is this just evolution?
I came across this column by Leslie Kaufman, New York Times, when I was online searching for help planning meals. I thought it was smart enough to share out to other working moms and moms who like to keep the cooking simple:
FOR the past 10 years, I have starred in my own reality series: “Working Mom Cooks Weeknight Dinner.” Think of it as “Survivor” meets “Iron Chef” with a bit of “Deal or No Deal.”
In the show’s long-running history there have been stretches in which the entire tribe was forced to subsist on scrambled eggs, tuna sandwiches and reheated Chinese food. But together we have overcome obstacles, gained wisdom and reached a point where my husband and I and our two boys eat balanced and even inventive home-cooked meals most nights.
This achievement is a bit of a wonder to my peers. So many of them struggle to eat dinner together, often waiting until the last minute to boil pasta and toss it with store-bought sauce or, more likely, dining on the leftover macaroni and cheese the babysitter fed the children. Some friends, otherwise civilized and professional, confess they resort to cold cereal... Read more
The Splintered Mind
Overcoming Neurological Disabilities With Lots Of Humor And Attitude
If your child happens to jump from a second story window onto anything . . . read Ed Hallowell's books on AD/HD.
It's Jill, your second-cousin-twice-removed-in
Nancy sent me your link today and I have spent the last hour reading; you are on the way to Tiger-Lily-ness, stay the course my girl. You have got me to thinking about Tiger Lily, and I agree with everything you have reported about her but:
1) Does Tiger Lily "need" an audience, or
2) Is it more true that we "need" Tiger Lily and so she "should" have an audience?
The whole point of Tiger Lily is that she is where she is and regardless of her audience her significance remains.
Perhaps this is one of life's great sadnesses, we don't recognize the richness of our own life and existence on its own merit, it is only when other people give us validation that we feel we have in fact achieved or overcome.
My own "Tiger Lily Dreams" are of myself in great old age, sipping a glass of bordeaux so earthy things are practically growing in it, before me is a view so verdant and pastoral I feel like Little Bo Peep without the spider, and I feel the present more vividly than I ever could in my youth because I know its fleeting.
In this vision, I am rich with experience and bouyed by the love I have felt from those who have touched my life through the years.
I should have an audience, but maybe, because of circumstance or distance, maybe I don't, yet my value remains. . . Of course, this evolution is so far from who I am presently, that I need to make tracks, but the embodiment of this dream is brilliant and shared by so many who don't have an articulate vision...
Tiger Lily warrants every moment I spend reading about her.
PS The more likely version of my old old age will be of me on the shores of Trout Lake bogarting a can of Schlitz, swatting mosquitos and trying to shock the younger family members with obscene Scrabble words.
My daughter, nine, is at a birthday party tonight. They are having pancakes and watching High School Musical 2. She was looking forward to it very much.
We went to our local toy store for a gift. Our budget for party gifts is always $15-$20, sharp; kid-wrapped with a homemade card. We usually have no trouble with that budget. But today was different. My girl walked up and down the aisles, forlorn, picking out $50 presents for her friend time and time again.
I was no-ing, and suggesting all manner of things when I noticed she was going to tantrum, and burst into tears. She kept saying, "She won't really like that. That's not really her style. I am not really sure that that's her thing."
SOOOOOO complicated, it seemed.
I finally put the whole thing on pause and we left the store. I held onto her little hand gently and blurted, "You are a very good friend. You are thoughtful, you are happy for her birthday. (Long silence, quiet tears followed.) What is troubling you? Are you worried that your friend won't like you if you do not give her a very big, special present?"
She was silent. I added, "I don't think Z gave you a present last year at your party. And, come to think of it, I don't think that Z ever thanked you for that monogrammed headband you carefully picked out for her birthday last year." (All true, I might add).
"I know," she said. "She never said that she liked it either."
I started to get it. "So, why are you concerned about the gift you give your friend today?"
She could not answer.
"Let's keep it simple and fun. Can you let mommy take care of it for you?"
Several hours later, she decided it was time to dress for the party. She came down in a wild, mismatched outfit. The outfit felt confused and it was then an idea sprang out for me.
My daughter was working overtime to impress a friend she really wasn't sure she even liked . . .
When I told her the outfit was a little out of sorts for the occasion (not exactly like that) she burst into tears about the fact that she only has "high heels" (a.k.a., Mary Janes) for winter and since it was nearly 100 degrees outside, and I would not let her wear them, the whole outfit was ruined!
She cried for one half an hour.
She isn't deprived, but she felt a deficit . . . Z is a girl she likes a lot but who doesn't really pay much attention to her.
I figured it needed to run its course and she'd come out of it just fine. I was right.
Thirty minutes later when I went upstairs to see how she was doing, she had on the most natural, pretty party outfit ever: a soft three-tiered peasant skirt in chocolate brown, a gently faded pink tank top, and lovely, simple pink-sequined flip-flops. Her face was washed, her hair in a ponytail. She was plenty: Herself through and through.
We took a hard cover book from her shelf, wrapped it up and got her to the party on time.
I have a catchy new way to say "no."
The idea is simple. When you slow down enough to check in with how you feel, and you "know" the best answer for you is "no," say, "know."
Your answer, "know," will automatically convey the grace and thoughtfulness you desire to show, not the shame, disappointment and judgement you fear you will attract by setting a clear boundary.
This is easier said than done, but if you can be mindful of your intention - to convey sincerity and grace and thoughtful concern for the human being asking something of you - your "know" will only be an act of self love, never a rejection of another person or idea, so check the guilt at the door.
P.S. Those to whom you are saying "know" still may not like it much, but you will be less involved in what they are feeling, so it shouldn't bother you much.
A hefty, information-packed read, Annemarie became our third wheel, and we loved giving each other her take on what food and nutrition meant in our late twenty-something lives: "Did you try a lick of Umeboshi plum for that headache?" and, "What does it mean to feel expansive?"
Eliza and I lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in small, adorable apartments with new husbands. Our local food shops were a co-op, a small Bread and Circus on Prospect, and a large Bread and Circus on Alewife. We ran four or five times a week, for 4-6 miles each time. I never felt so healthy, even though I could still recite a long list of things that needed to change in my life . . .
When I became pregnant, which was right at the tail end of the Annemarie craze, I felt so lean and intimately connected with my body that I swore I could "feel" the fertilization of my egg in the moment it was happening. (Apparently, many people report this.)
Gradually, but I cannot put my finger on when, I moved away from Annemarie's teachings and let go of a lot of what I had learned about me and food. And when I moved away from Eliza, down to D.C., for whatever reason, my eating habits became retro and I found myself craving things like Twinkies and meatballs, and coke.
The result? Extra weight. Ten or so pounds of stubborn, heavy molecules that I have to carry around, dress, and tolerate or get rid of. I don't like those characters, but they are part of me. They take up a lot of room in my life, triggering lots of self-condemnation, feelings of powerlessness, and premature aging . . .
There has been much discussion about how obesity is social and is "passed" from friend to friend. I think healthy lifestyles are too. Without a good friend, what fun is it to learn about something so specific as Macrobiotics? Without a good friend, what fun is it to train for a long run? And without a good friend, what fun is it to eat?
I miss Eliza. I don't know if she's reading, but if she is, hey girl, thanks for making that such a rich few years. Let us know where you are with your Food and Healing journey. . .
I pulled my tattered copy down yesterday. The memories came with one glance at the Star of Seasonal Eating, the report on the standard American diet, the lists of foods and their traits from expansive to contractive. I think the book will be at my bedside table for months now.
I just wish my friend were around the corner again, too.
If you want to explore one of the best references on food and health that I've ever looked at, check out Food and Healing . The paperback version is under $15.
My dream is that my mother (who loved and challenged her grandchildren ) lived nearby and was enthusiastic about providing care for the children at market rate. But mom lives in Florida.
So, with a bit of compromise thrown in my dream leans toward an organic arrangement with a friend who needs what I need, and has an interest in grouping our children together so that:
- the children build friendships/flexibility/resiliency
- we share expenses
- we fill one of our empty houses up with life after school
- we become better friends through the exercise
Please post a comment or send e-mail to: firstname.lastname@example.org
Recent news suggests that obesity is passed from friend to friend. I say most things are passed from friend to friend, so why not that? Why the hell not a drive toward eating, or a love of smokes, or zest for scaling mountains?
Exactly how ARE we wired? Most people believe that our habits are learned, reinforced, then reinforced again. If we have a bad habit our options are to get to revising it; relearn, practice, practice. Become.
An elegant idea that just doesn't seem to work.
So what to do with news that heavy people are heavy because their friends are heavy also? "Fatties seek fatties, it's cultural," some might say. Others prefer something softer, such as: "What a shame, how hopeless." And then the do-good extroverts will chime in, "We have to do something about this!"
But one small lonely voice might be heard whispering: "I knew they would finally understand. This is bigger than me!" And some relief may - for a moment - ripple through that soul's giant body.
Obesity is a global economic force. In fact, while most of us look at obesity as a tragic, life burden, I wonder if our b/w lens of judgement isn't missing the point entirely.
Could obesity actually be about acquiring social power? Much like currents deep down in our oceans, human affiliations move dynamically and always toward connectedness. The current of obesity is one rip, and I'd like to shift my lens to bring into focus what being obese accomplishes for the millions labeled as such.
Like the ocean depths, there must be something to it that we just can't yet see...
Congrats. I can't wait to hear all about it.
Feeling lousy, lonely, unable to do a single thing "right." Can I be
post-partum 7 1/2 yrs into this endeavor?
Otherwise things are great -- how's that for a postcard?
Hi Coco Kraft!
Just read your blog and laughed myself silly! Just loved your newest fashion statement for "back to work wear". That's what you get for deciding to spend six important years with your two beautiful children-you become the mother of invention, have lots of ingenuity, guts, flexibility and have learned how to just go with the flow and let it roll! Corporate life could never teach you all of that in six short years!
You are the best and I am so proud of your accomplishments. Your writing is unbelievable; funny, insightful, raw, and well written. Please make sure that you send your blog to Jill Patton because I know she would get a big kick out of your stories. She writes so much like you and could be a great asset to your column.
We missed you and your family at the Deep last week, but perhaps you'll be able to join us next year. I would love to post on your blog, that is, if my retired brain ever comes up with an original or insightful thought. Thanks for your concern re: my knee. I will give you an update when I get some news. Its really hard to grasp the concept that my body is just not as good as it used to be, when my mind keeps telling me that I get better every year! Is that delusional thinking or just wishful dreaming?
This bird was about 7" tall when mature, but over these last few weeks we had encountered many immature birds of the same markings scattered in the broods of our baby finches and chickadees, as they trained with their parents. It was strange to see such a big baby in the mix.
The dull birds were more aggressive than the finer, more colorful birds we typically attract, and they were much dirtier (i.e. bird poop everywhere all of the sudden). These birds had no obvious trait of adoration that we could relate to, other than they are part of the grand scheme of nature and deserve our respect.
"What's going on?" we had been wondering for weeks.
Finally, we pulled out the books and charts, located a picture of the bird we thought we were seeing and were amazed to learn that this so-called "Cow Bird" is the only parasitic bird in the state of Maryland. The description went on to inform us that Cow Birds never build nests. Instead, they lay eggs in the nests of others with the expectation that these birds will raise their young.
Usually, that is exactly what happens, sometimes even at the expense of the hard-working nested bird's own young!
At our local bird store we confirmed what we had learned. Two options were offered to us as ways to stop attracting Cow Birds: 1) stop feeding all of the birds, and 2) feed millet to the Cow Birds to keep them in a specific area of the yard.
I am not sure what we'll decide to do.
1. Men use hair products.
2. Coffee comes in pods.
3. IM has replaced face-time.
4. I am older.
5. Microsoft Outlook is better.
Five things that have not changed:
1. Well-conceived business plans are hard to find.
2. Too many cc:s on e-mail.
3. Content remains "King."
4. Vacation is infrequent.
5. Good childcare is ridiculously hard to find.
No. 2 - Tiger Lily Mazlish has tried it all.
No. 3 - Tiger Lily Mazlish has time to teach us.
No. 4 - Tiger Lily Mazlish has overcome more than she has accomplished.
No. 5 - Tiger Lily Mazlish wears very cool costume jewelery.
No. 6 - Tiger Lily Mazlish used to vacation in: The Hamptons, St. Tropez, and Antigua.
No. 7 - Tiger Lily Mazlish can cook.
No. 8 - Tiger Lily Mazlish earned a degree late in life.
No. 9 - Tiger Lily Mazlish understands.
No. 10 - Tiger Lily Mazlish needs an audience.
Please send your questions and let the lady speak.