My Homemade Christmas Eggnog

I’m posting this recipe fairly early in December because you may want to enjoy this alcohol-free, light eggnog all month. I usually make this to sip on while we decorate our Christmas tree.

My husband’s family has made their own eggnog for years. I married into this awesomeness 25 years and 11 months ago. Since I first tasted the stuff, I was hooked. It wasn’t like the store bought junk that’s thick and super sweet. This eggnog is so much better. So even if you’re not an eggnog fan, give this a chance. It may make you the Christmastime hero in your family. I’ve modified it a bit from the original recipe, so I feel comfortable calling it my own recipe. Here goes!

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The ITCH that almost stole Christmas by Betty Mason Arthurs

 

norfolk-island-pine-public domain

The ITCH That Almost Stole Christmas

by

Betty Mason Arthurs

In the 1970s my husband and I along with our two young children lived in western New York farm country. A week before Christmas, John and our neighbor Junior searched the woods for the perfect tree behind our houses along Ridge Road in Ransomville. They rode snowmobiles through the Concord grape and Catawba vineyards and snow-covered fields, on a holiday mission that has never changed for families over many years.

While they were gone, Sue, Junior’s wife, and I and our four children drank hot chocolate in her warm kitchen, laughing and talking about our modern pioneer men.“I sent them off with ropes, a saw and an axe,” Sue said. “Sure hope they find some pretty trees.”

In an hour we heard the roar of the snowmobiles and rushed out to meet our heroes. The children jumped up and down, screaming, “The trees are here, the trees are here!”

“Junior and I climbed the pines and chopped off the top of them. We couldn’t find any nice smaller trees,” John told me, propping our beautiful six foot tall tree against the front porch railing of the old farm house we rented. “Let’s leave it out here so we can shake off the snow tomorrow. Otherwise it’s going to get the floor wet.”

Four-year-old Julie clapped her hands as she ran to the window again and again to see the tree. She told me, “Santa Closet (her funny name for the big guy in red suit) is coming soon `cause he loves baby Jesus.” She had already been searching through our Christmas ornament box. When her brother Robbie toddled over to the box, she handed him unbreakable ornaments to play with saying, “He’s a baby an’ we don’t want him to get cut.”

Tomorrow Rob would turn two years old. We had decided that our family tradition would be to decorate the tree on his birthday. There wasn’t much money this year for presents but we had the perfect gift from the forest.

Later in the frosty day, I slipped on my wool poncho, stepped onto the porch and touched the tree. “Fresh and fragrant beauty, that’s what you are,” I murmured. Tiny pine cones and melting snow glistened on the dark needles of the Douglas fir. “I’m sure the chickadees and squirrels are missing you and being able to pounce on your branches.”

I noticed a dead vine woven through the tree from top to bottom. How quaint, but I don’t want dried leaves all over my floor. With my bare hands I pulled at the vine with white-colored berries which turned and twisted like brown yarn in a dark green quilt. The stubborn vine resisted my pulling and tugging so I yanked harder until it was freed.

The next morning John shook the tree free of melted snow, jammed it into its stand and carried it into our house to the sounds of squealing delight from Julie and Robbie. Its pine fragrance enveloped the house in our favorite holiday aroma.

However, in the night I had developed a severe rash on my hands and arms. Mystified, I smeared a soothing cream over the welts. The itching intensified and in agony I tried not to scratch the burning, red rash.

“What did you do?” John asked. “What did you touch?”

Then I knew. The innocent looking dead vine still packed a punch. Poison ivy! As a child growing up in Kansas I’d had plenty of nasty encounters with poison ivy in spite of my parents showing me the three-leafed plant, “Be careful where you run when you’re in the woods…don’t touch.”

Perhaps, thanks to the hideous vine, that’s one reason why I’ve never forgotten my itch that almost stole Christmas. God knew it held a hidden danger and he helped me protect my family. That Christmas the “what-ifs” flooded my mind:  What if John or Robbie or Julie had touched the poison ivy? What if we all had a miserable red-rash-family-Christmas? What if Robbie had eaten a leaf?

The not-so-perfect tree created a funny memory once I recovered from the nasty rash, which just goes to show that memories we cherish don’t always come from perfect situations. God uses them all, good and bad to remind us of His awesome gift on Christmas morning, even poison ivy.

Please share your Christmas mishaps in the comments below. I’d love to hear about them and so would our readers.

Photo by Jeff Weese

Photo by Jeff Weese

Posted in Christmas, Family Life, Family Stories, Nostalgia | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Texas Turkey Casserole: Left-over Turkey Baked with Tortillias by Betty Mason Arthurs

Stacy Spensley on Wikimedia

Texas Turkey Casserole by Betty Mason Arthurs

Do you need to use up left-over Thanksgiving turkey? Here’s a recipe with a Southwestern flavor using corn tortillas, one of our family’s favorites.

Texas Turkey Casserole  (Can be baked in oven or microwave)

For 6 servings you will need:
1 Tbsp. oil
½ cup chopped onion
1 small can diced, green chilies
1 medium tomato
1 small clove garlic, minced or garlic powder
2 Tbsp. butter or margarine
1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
1 Tbsp. cornstarch
¼ tsp. each salt and pepper
½ tsp. chili powder
1 cup chicken broth
½ cup milk
8 corn tortillas
2 cups cooked turkey, chopped (can use more)
6 oz. shredded Jack or Cheddar cheese

Preparation:

1.       Heat oil in skillet. Sauté onion, chilies, tomato and garlic over low heat,
stir until onions are softened.
2.   In small sauce pan, melt the butter. Stir in flour. Cook for a minute.
Stir in salt, pepper and chili powder.
3.       Slowly add the broth. Stir over medium heat until thickened. Add milk.
Heat thoroughly.
4.      Lightly butter an 8-inch baking dish. Lay 4 tortillas in dish.
Evenly distribute 1 cup turkey over the tortillas.
5.      Spoon ½ cup sauce over turkey. Sprinkle with half of cheese and
half of vegetable mixture. Add ½ cup sauce. Repeat with remaining
tortillas, turkey, sauce and vegetables, topping with cheese.
6.      Bake at 350 F for 20 to 25 minutes until heated through.
(Microwave at high power for 8 minutes.)

 

 

 

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Review of My Rhyme-Time Bible for Little Ones by Donna Clark Goodrich

It’s the day after Thanksgiving–only one more month before Christmas!

But if someone on your Christmas list is between three and six years old, may I suggest a beautiful Bible storybook–in rhyme?

bethlehem

My Rhyme-Time Bible for Little Ones is gorgeously illustrated. It features the biblical heroes and events that captivate children:

  • the creationrhyme-time
  • Noah’s ark
  • God’s promise to Abraham
  • Joseph, whose brothers were so mean to him, yet he gave them food when they were starving
  • Moses, the baby in a basket who became a great leader
  • Ruth, who left her home to support her mother-in-law
  • Samuel, who becomes a great prophet
  • David, who fought a giant
  • Queen Esther, who saved her people
  • the birth of Jesus
  • Jesus’ miracles
  • the disciples
  • Peter, who denied Jesus, and then spent the rest of his life telling people about him

Goodrich retells these stories in rhyme. I am very fond of rhyming books for children, if they are as well-done as this one is. In my opinion, repeatedly reading rhymes to children helps them recall the words, and encourages them to read for themselves. (See Why and How to Read to Your Baby.)

donna-clark-goodrichGoodrich is well-known among the Christian writing world, and (full disclosure) is a good friend of mine, as well as a contributor to this blog. She has authored 24 books and over 700 published articles and short stories, and is hard at work writing a book for caretakers. A freelance editor and proofreader, she’s also a popular instructor at Christian writers conferences and has presented writers’ workshops across the US. Many writers owe their starts to Donna Goodrich.

Posted in Bible, Book reviews, Books, Christian Living, Christmas, Gifts | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Thanksgiving Interview by Betty Mason Arthurs

Fall Foliage on the Quantico Creek

Thanksgiving Interview by Betty Mason Arthurs

One of America’s greatest celebrations is in a few days, Thanksgiving. It’s a time we remember the Pilgrims who came to the new world to escape persecution for their religion. On that special day, for most families, we gather in our homes amid the fragrant aroma of days of cooking and baking. Some family members travel long distances just to be home for the Thanksgiving feast. In our Arizona family, we consume massive amounts of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy (please leave out the chopped giblets), piles of stuffing, yams garnished with marshmallows, and green bean casserole, veggie and fruit platters, cranberries, dinner rolls and pumpkin and peach pies. Yummy new recipes from Pinterest will often invade our traditional meal.

This year amid all the turmoil in our nation and around the world, I wanted to get a young person’s perspective on Thanksgiving. I interviewed our granddaughter who is a college freshman and studying nursing at a local university. How did her viewpoint on being thankful differ from us, her Pappy and Gammy? There’s a large generational gap between her 19 years and our 70-plus years.

Using an acrostic of the word “Thanksgiving” I compared her answers to ours when I asked her, “What are you thankful for?” Here are her first answers:

T…Thundering Heard (that’s right) Pep Band:  Her participation as a saxophonist is fun way to make new friends and develop as a musician.

H…Home:  This is her first time away from her family.

A…Academics:  She likes gaining new knowledge.

N…Naps:  Late night studying is exhausting so naps are welcome.

K…Kin:  She loves going home to her mom and dad and three younger brothers.

Pappy’s answers are different from his granddaughter but similar in one way. His “K” is for his sister, Kay. His “G” is grandkids. I also had “G” for grandkids. My “A” was aunts because even though my five aunts have died, I have fond memories of time spent with them. “Kin” are important to the young and us seniors.

Let’s continue on with our granddaughter’s acrostic:

S…Snow White:  This is the name she gave her car.

G…God:  She is a Christian.

I…Idiosyncrasy:  She laughed and said, “I’m different than most people.”

V…Very joyful:  She does have a joyful spirit.

I…Instrument:  Playing the sax is an important part of her life.

N…New friends:  College life has created more friendships.

G…Good memories:  These will last for her lifetime.

Only Pappy had a food item in his list, “I” was for ice cream and we all know how important food is to a man. I’m sure if there was a “C” us girls would have listed, “Chocolate” while Pappy would have said “Coffee.” For “N” I wrote “Nurses” since my granddaughter is a nursing student and I’ve had my share of hospitalizations.

All in all, our Thanksgiving acrostics showed a spirit of thankfulness has no generational gap. Thanks to parents, grandparents, teachers, church youth leaders, and coaches who have invested their time, talent and treasure in their lives, many of our young people are enjoying their lives today and have hope for the future. I know our college student does.

This Thanksgiving, let’s give thanks for all we have, praying for our world, our country and its leaders. Why not ask the people of all ages in your life, “What are you thankful for?”

Hymn   “God’s Gifts in Nature” from the German of Mathius Claudius

We plow the fields and scatter

The good seed on the land,

But it is fed and watered

By God’s almighty hand;

He sends the snow in winter,

The warmth to swell the grain,

The breezes and the sunshine,

And soft refreshing rain.

 

We thank thee, then, O Father,

For all things bright and good,

The seed-time and the harvest,

Our life, our health, our food;

Accept the gifts we offer

For all thy love imparts,

And, what thou most desirest,

Our humble, thankful hearts.

Methodist Episcopal Church Hymnal, 1878

Happy Blessed Thanksgiving to all of you!

Posted in America, Celebrations, Family Life, Family Stories, Grandparenting, Holiday, Thanksgiving, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 7 Comments

Church at the Nursing Home

(This post first appeared on Parenting With a Smile in July, 2016.)

Rollin and I went to church on a Thursday afternoon in Minnesota with his 93-year-old dad at his assisted living home. Folding chairs lined the activity room and about fifteen gray-headed people congregated there. Walkers parked along the perimeter of the meeting place.

holding-elderly-hand1

The kind-hearted preacher spoke with conviction about the peace and joy Jesus gives. His voice rose above the confused murmuring of some of the attendees.

“Sweet hour of prayer,” one woman said loudly, over and over. Occasionally, she’d throw in a “Jesus loves me this I know.” Another lady had trouble finding just the right place to sit. Rollin helped her to a seat, front and center. She seemed to be pleased with it. At first it was annoying, trying to hear the man up front over the interruptions, but God was there, waiting to interrupt my own annoyance with His grace.

Soon, communion emblems were offered. The pastor tenderly served each one individually at their seats. Some couldn’t take their own piece of bread, dropping it on the floor. The pastor decided maybe he should  hand each one their piece. He did the same with the cup. As he went around, he suggested we sing the children’s song, “Jesus Loves Me.” Old, wobbly voices joined in song and my eyes filled with tears. To be in the company of such saints moved me. It didn’t matter that they were confused, unable to make sense of what to do with the bread and tiny cups they’d been handed.

“Sweet hour of prayer,”  she said again, louder than was appropriate. But from the overflow of her heart, it came. Worship in its truest, purest form.

senior-man-praying-loneliness-xs1Then the pastor went around to collect the empty cups. “Would you like to drink that?” he gently asked the first woman. No, she shook her head. But then she drank it, and placed the plastic cup on the tray he offered. The same happened with the old man in a wheelchair.

Now my own heart overflowed. To be in the presence of these saints was an honor I’ll not soon forget. I hope when my mind is foggy, the thing that rises to the top is worship and praise to the One who has loved and sustained me my whole life.

The old folks’ memories are gone, but God sees their hearts, past the place of confusion, past the inappropriateness of their behavior, to who they are because of Jesus. Jesus loves them, this they know. Loves them, died for them, will come for them. Even so, Lord Jesus, come.

Linda

Posted in Aging, Alzheimer's, Church, Faith, Faithfulness, Life Transitions, Ministry, Prayer | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

Why and How to Read to your Baby…by ARHuelsenbeck

All five of my children knew how to read by the time they entered kindergarten.

Are they incredibly brilliant? Yes. But more than anything else, I attribute their early grasp of a complicated but vital skill to the fact that my husband and I read to our children from the time they were babies.

story-time-with-mom-by-devinf-on-flickr

Photo by devinf on flickr

At what age should I introduce my baby to books?

Somewhere from three to five months, while holding the baby in your lap, page through a board book with him. He will try to wrest it from your hands and put it into his mouth. That’s what babies do—they explore the world with their taste buds and their sensitive tongues. Let him have it, and gently try to draw his attention to the pictures.

This step is a lot easier if you have already been showing him things in his environment and naming them. “Oh, there’s Garfield. Isn’t he a fluffy kitty?” Talking to little ones from the day they’re born and verbally labeling things helps babies grasp that words have meanings. It’s also essential to language acquisition.

Even so, the baby will probably not begin to zero in on the pictures until at least age six months or so. And then, her focus will only last a few seconds before she tries to eat the book again.

Start out with books that have very few words. When your baby starts paying attention to the pictures, either read the words or talk about the pictures.

When can I start reading my child real storybooks?

Around twelve months, your child is learning words and less likely to stuff books into his mouth. It’s the perfect time to start actually reading to him (though some children are ready even earlier). Take into consideration that his attention span is really short—be sure you’re turning pages at least every 30 seconds, even if it means not reading all the words on the page yet.

The best early books don’t have much plot. Instead, they have lots of pictures. When my own children were little, I loved Dr. Seuss’s ABC and Richard Scarry’s Best Word Book Ever. Read the ABC book (and any rhyming or story book) with expression. Lively renditions will help your little one remember the words, which will come in handy later as he starts trying to read.

Speaking of rhymes, don’t overlook Mother Goose. The meter and rhythm of nursery rhymes create spoken music and ingrain themselves into children’s memories. When I taught elementary music, we often used Mother Goose rhymes for musical exploration. It was heartbreaking to discover that many students were unfamiliar with them. Back in the day, children memorized a whole repertoire of nursery rhymes before they entered kindergarten, just from their parents reading them aloud over and over again.

Work reading into the child’s routine. We read to the kids at naptime and at bedtime, often for a half-hour or more. Sometimes we read to a bunch of the kids altogether, and sometimes we read to each one individually. (One-on-one is my preference. I had the luxury of being a full-time mom to five children. Tailor your reading time to fit your own obligations.) Story time deepened our bonding. We cuddled, kissed, laughed, and discussed the silly and the profound.

san-jose-library

Photo by San José Library on flickr

How does reading to my children help them become readers?

Having story time places value on reading, especially if your children also see you reading newspapers, magazines, books, and e-readers.

Also, if you track the words with your finger, your child will unconsciously pick up the left-to-right, top-to-bottom orientation of Western written language.

Little by little, you can teach your children the letters of the alphabet, the building blocks of words. The ABC book and Sesame Street will reinforce what you do.

Start with the first letter of the child’s name. Point it out a couple of times a day, especially whenever you see it in a bold form, like on a sign or a license plate. You can run your finger along the shape of the character and say, “Look—C for Carly.” Pretty soon, your child will be pointing them out as well. Then add M for Mommy or D for Daddy. Pace yourself—don’t overwhelm them. But if you are persistent, over the course of a year, they will learn to recognize all the letters.

I am a phonics enthusiast. After my kids knew their letters, I began telling them about their sounds. “M says mmmmmmm.” And I taught only one sound at a time.

by-harald-groven

Photo by Harald Groven

After they knew most of the sounds, I began teaching them how to sound out words. I would point to the word milk on the gallon jug, and sound it out slowly, running my finger under each letter. Soon, they would find the word milk in stories we were reading, and sound it out for me. We did the same for other common words. As the months went by, the kids developed a strategy for figuring out words they didn’t recognize.

We bought our first house when Carly was two and a half. One day in a furniture store where we were shopping for furniture for the new house, Carly asked, “What does d-e-p-t spell?”

I answered, “That’s a short way of writing department.

“Oh,” she said. “That sign says, No Smoking by Order of Fire Department.

Yes. Two and a half years old. Was she unusually bright? Yes, but it didn’t take her siblings much longer to be able to read like that. It was exposure to words and to the secrets of deciphering that enabled them to learn to read at an early age.

Once your child begins to read, you can take turns reading pages during story time.

woodley-wonder-works

Photo by woodleywonderworks.

How long do I have to keep this up?

There will come a day when your child will discover she can read silently. Pretty soon, she will be able to read faster than you can read aloud, and you reading to her will be an occasional treat instead of an everyday occurrence. (And they might want to take over story time for their younger siblings, at least sometimes.) For my children, this happened when they were five or six.

Are you willing to spend five or six years getting your children ready to read? Did you have a different experience reading to your children? Share in the comments below.

Posted in Babies, Books, Family Life, Learning New Skills, Parenting, Reading | Tagged , | 4 Comments

Bullies Beware, Grandmother Patrols in Schools by Betty Mason Arthurs

Bedtime Bible Stories celebration 10.9.12

Bullies Beware, Grandmother Patrols in Schools by Betty Mason Arthurs

Maybe it’s time for schools to hang next to their signs, “Drug Free Zone,” a second sign which proclaims, “Grandmas on Patrol, No Bullying Allowed.”

Is anyone else sick and tired of hearing about children being harassed at school? I’m a grandmother of seven and ready to put Grandmother Peace Patrols in every school. We’d wear t-shirts saying, “Free Hugs for Kindness” on the front with the back saying, “You are Loved.” Yes, I know, it’s a simplistic solution when in this internet age bullies can hack into every aspect of your life and the lives of those you love. They secretly prey on the unsuspecting and love-starved people who are looking for love and affirmation in all the wrong places.

Have you had your sweet girl come home from kindergarten with a black eye? When you were five, did an older boy follow behind you and kick you all the way to school? Did a seventh grade teacher call you a “mama’s boy” and make fun of you? Did kids in sixth grade class make fun of your best friend and her outdated clothes?

Bullying is not a new phenomenon. All these above incidents happened to me and my husband in the 1950s and 60s and later in my children’s lives in the 1970s. Yes, my petite daughter came home with a black eye and when I called her teacher and asked, “Why didn’t you call me and tell me she got hit?” She laughed and said, “She cries all the time anyway so I didn’t pay any attention to her.” I called the boy’s mother. Her response was, “We teach our boys not to hit girls so I’m sure it wasn’t my son.” Really? My daughter saw my tears and felt my frustration at not being able to protect her.

A few years ago, one of my grandsons was bullied on the school bus by a neighbor and thankfully the school took action and the bully was kicked off the bus. Two weeks ago a seventh grade girl shared at our church women’s group. “I need prayer. I’m being bullied at school. One classmate keeps telling me that no one likes me.” We loved on this beautiful young lady and reassured her of our love. And yes, we continue to pray for her and the school.

What do you think of my idea of grandmothers patrolling school hallways? Do you think schools would welcome our help or resent our intrusion into their domain? Are you as a parent or grandparent a vital part of their lives so they can share with you ugly email messages or hideous Facebook posts about them? Do they talk about school and problems they’re having? Can we attend school board meetings and get involved in their discussions, checking out their response to bullying? One of my friends, a grandmother of eight, said, “I’m telling you, love-starved kids would line up for those grandma hugs. Yes, it’s about changing hearts, even the meanest ones, with love.”

Please, if you have tackled any bullying in your kids’ or grandkids’ lives and have been successful (or unsuccessful), tell us about your experience by commenting below. Let’s begin a dialogue about bullies and share ways to protect our beloved children.

Posted in Bullies, Doing Life Together, Finding solutions, Grandparenting, Kindness, School, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

What’s in a Name? by ARHuelsenbeck

Most parents agonize over what to name their precious babies. They recognize names are an important part of our identities. Your name influences others’ perceptions of you.

adorable-20374_640

Pryce? Raynbo? Patch? Chester? Darth? Prissy?

As a child, I hated my name. It was too different. Most girls I knew had some variation of Mary in their names: Mary Clare, Mary Beth, Marianne, Mary Lou. My parents named me Andrea, after my father (Andreas). My middle name is Gabriela, after my father’s aunt (a Benedictine nun named Sister Gabriela).

During elementary school, I tried to train people to pronounce my name On-dray-ah. Instead, they reverted to Ann-dree-uh. When they remembered my name. Often, they called me Angela, Audrey, Adrienne. I learned to answer to any name that started with A.

In high school, desperate for a nickname, I introduced myself as Andie. People who met me between 1966 and 1973 still call me that. I dropped Andie when I married, because my husband, Greg, refused to use it. (That’s okay—I call him Gregory when I’m mad at him.)

We took care in selecting meaningful names for our children (not an easy feat when your last name is Huelsenbeck—what sounds good with Huelsenbeck?):

  • Our oldest daughter is Carly Anne. We loved the songs of Carly Simon, a popular vocalist when we were dating and first married. Her name was so different, so artsy. Anne or Marie sounded good as a middle name.
  • Our older son is Matthew Gregory. I used to think Matthew was kind of a hillbilly name, but I fell in love with it when John Denver wrote a song about his uncle Matthew. I wanted my son to have those same qualities Denver admired in his uncle. And his middle name honors my husband.
  • Our middle daughter is Erin Gabriela. There were two television characters at the time with the name Erin: one of the daughters on The Waltons, and the unseen, longed-for daughter back home of B.J. Hunnicutt on M.A.S.H. To me, the name symbolized someone cherished. The only problem was that it was unusual. In the 80s, few people were familiar with the name. Many mistook her for a boy named Aaron. And when she was in college, she dated a young man named Aaron. To keep the two of them sorted out, I began calling them Ay-ron and Ee-rin.
  • Our younger son is Andrew Wilfred. He’s named after my dad and Greg’s.

    Dad and Katie 2009

    Dad with my daughter Katie

  • Our youngest daughter is Katherine Cecelia, and she goes by Katie, because that was such a popular, cute name when we were expecting her. I would have named her Katie, but Greg insisted that since Katie is a nickname for Katherine, we had to name her Katherine. Cecelia is Greg’s mother’s middle name.

I think each of the kids has gone through a time they were embarrassed by their names. I told them when they were 21 they could get their names changed legally. (So far, nobody’s done it.)

When Matt was eleven, he was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, and we joined a support group. As we walked into the meeting room, we filled out name tag stickers, and I went to talk with some of the moms while Matt hung out with the other kids. A mother asked me which child was mine, and I said, “The tall one with the blond hair.”

“Oh, Spencer?” she asked, pointing.

Yep. There was Matt, wearing a name tag that said Spencer.

DSC02756

When Andy was in middle school and high school (back in the days before we had cell phones), we often got phone calls for Diesel. Greg would say, “You have the wrong number,” and hang up. But actually, Diesel was Andy’s alter ego.

I remember as a teenager, I fantasized naming my daughters Cassandra and Vanessa. I chickened out when the time came.

We had a lot of back-up names picked out. Carly would have been Michael if she had been a boy. Katie would have been Alex. We used to joke that if we had four boys, they’d be John, Paul, George, and Ringo, or Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. At one time I wanted to name four girls Kathryn, Lauryn, Eryn, and Jaclyn.

I think we did a decent job of naming our kids.

Maybe we did better than a lot of parents. Sometimes I wonder what thought process people employ when they name their kids. Do they just cut letters out of the newspaper and put them together any which way? What were they thinking when they named their babies Dweezil or Apple, Draven or Moo, Suri or Lyric or Major? I had a student whose name was Z. That’s right, just the letter Z.

Carly, Matt, Erin, Andy, and Katie look pretty good to me.

Posted in Family Stories, Humor, Parenting | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

Parents are Recycled Life Forms by Betty Mason Arthurs

Titus, almost 3

Parents are Recycled Life Forms by Betty Mason Arthurs

Yes, my husband and I are now recycled. We’ve been collected, sorted, smashed and painfully reshaped by 47 years of parenthood. And we only raised two children. Now the seven grandkids are determined to help us, and their parents, change our nincompoop status into fine, upstanding old people.

Talk about recycling, our astute city is very happy with us because for years our family has fed used magazines, papers, cans, bottles, and toilet paper tubes to our blue dumpster. Thus my idea came for this post. Parenthood took us from the world of adulthood and recycled us, in my exalted opinion, into a confused daddy and mommy and grandparents.

I can confirm that the label stamped on the bottom of our feet after years of parenting:  “Made from biodegradable fuzz-brains and turbulent offspring.” None of our pre-child, God-given senses are intact, so help me God.

Hearing:

I now wear two hearing aids. Ear drums have been battered by the cries of colicky babies, 90,000 watts of 105.000 decibels of music and marching band. (Our son was a drummer and we lovingly gave him a drum set in his bedroom to further his music career.) Our daughter’s favorite music blasted NON-STOP from her room and her favorite song was “To Hell With the Devil!” by Stryper. Our grandchildren wonder why all we say is, “What?” “Huh?” and “Say again.”

I recommend since nerve damage is permanent, get the best hearing aid money can buy.

Smell:

Your nostrils may be cauterized by years of smelly diapers, snotty tissues, soggy gym socks, sweaty shin guards, non-effective teen deodorant and science experiments left for months under the bed. Today the invasion of six grandsons, who are non-stop eating machines, cause the stinky garbage to pile up as high as South Mountain in Phoenix. We won’t mention the delicate subject of flatulence. Healthy food is yucky and thus gets thrown out.

I recommend saving money towards nasal transplants which should be available by 2022.

Taste:

The kids are gone but you still crave cold pizza, combo-cheesy-greasy subs, and the Golden Arches flash neon yellow in your dreams:  “Burgers and fries, burgers and fries!” (Your thickly coated arteries scream back, “High cholesterol!”) The grands also love fast food but they have decided Pappy’s famous pasta (My husband’s claim to fame) is also yummy. And I make terrific yellow Jell-O.

I recommend you never miss renewing your monthly prescription of cholesterol fighting medication.

Vision:

Your eyes are blood-shot and twitch after years of midnight correction duty for illegible term papers. Playing video games with your sons and daughters may have boosted fun relationships but you have blurry night vision and struggle to drive in the dark. When you peer at your grandson and call him by his sister’s name, you can’t admit you have failing eye sight. You must give him a Tootsie Pop to help him get over his offense.

Buy the best eye glasses insurance you can find.

Touch:

Every nerve is on high alert in your aged body. Instead of baby viruses with sky-high fevers, rashes, and nasty allergies of a child, you have to focus numerous hideous medical problems that come with age. You can’t hide behind a sweet child’s ear infections anymore. You can offer to take your grandchild to the doctor but are you prepared to climb on top of them and hold them down for their examination and shots? It may get your mind off your medical issues but the adorable grandchild won’t let you touch him or speak to you until they want money for college.

Take care of yourself, go to the doctor and try not to throw a hissy fit when he prescribes a $100 a pill medication for your rash-causing anxiety disorder.

In spite of our impaired senses, John and I try to look on the bright side. Our children turned out peachy-keen, we have a few brain cells left and money for coffee. And we are having fun witnessing our seven grandchildren recycle their parents. The other day at a family birthday celebration, our son yelled to his three rambunctious sons, “Keep the noise down!” Our daughter’s three boys can clean out the food in the pantry and refrigerator in the record time of three hours. She hides food in far away places so she can make dinner. She’s still looking for the frozen chicken tenders she bought a month ago.

Yep, it’s recycled parenthood for our son and daughter and their spouses. Can you hear me laughing and enjoying all with my recycled senses?

What stories can you share about your recycling adventures?

 

 

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