What a Turkey

Thanksgiving reminds me of holidays past. Memories come flooding back: the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade airing on TV, the smell of turkey and Thanksgiving goodies coming from the kitchen and the warmth of being surrounded by friends and family. These memories give me comfort and great joy remembering each day.

When I was on my own for the first time as an adult I wondered how I would handle Thanksgiving. I’d never cooked a turkey all by myself and stressed about the idea of doing one. I couldn’t recall ever hearing anyone share how they’d aced the turkey the first time they done it. I did my research: how big a turkey to get and how to best prepare it and then I made a decision…I’d get one precooked. Yes, I admit it. Precooked. Now, you may be thinking where’s the fun in that? But I was not looking to have fun, I wanted a turkey I wouldn’t have to stress out about. The precooked turkey delivered.

On that first Thanksgiving I got rave reviews. “Your turkey is so moist, how did you make it?” and “Wow, this is delicious” were comments I didn’t see coming, but happily received though with a tinge of guilt. I felt though I had given them a delicious bird I had somehow cheated my guests out of a “honest-to-goodness start-to-finish cooked” turkey (the kind where you wake up at 4 a.m. to get the bird going in the oven after you’ve thawed it for 48 hours. The kind where you pull out the innards and stuff it with dressing. The kind that you stress out about and spend all day trying to get right for the meal), and I felt I had to confess. “I’m glad you like the turkey, but I have to admit, there was really nothing to it. I got it precooked from the store. I just had to heat it up in the oven for two hours.” The truth was out and boy, did I feel better. The funny thing is sharing this information seemed to make my guests love the turkey even more, “What a great idea!” one guest shared. “I didn’t even think about stores offering precooked turkey, I’ll have to try that next year. This is really good,” said another.

As I reflected on that first Thanksgiving, I realized while I hoped to avoid the stress of cooking a turkey, I’d still stressed about not cooking the turkey all-by-myself. It was silly really. I’ve never really thought twice about how any other Thanksgiving was impacted by the taste of the turkey. It was usually a non-event, and I made the commitment after coming to this realization that I wouldn’t waste my time stressing over a Thanksgiving turkey again.

As we sit at the table this year, I look forward to delicious food, the smells, the parade, making memories with my kids and having great conversations with friends and family. I couldn’t be more thankful for having this kind of Thanksgiving, precooked turkey and all.

How are you preparing for Thanksgiving? How do you avoid the stress of the holidays?

Happy Thanksgiving.

Silence = Acceptance

I was recently flipping through the December issue of O Magazine when I came across an article capturing Oprah interviewing a Sandy Hook family that had lost a child. At first, I was uneasy reading the article. I have cried many times thinking about what occurred and what difficulty the families left behind have gone through. The article made the feelings fresh again.

Not long after the Sandy Hook shootings occurred, I was part of an audience that was encouraged not to be the silent majority any more, but to speak out to our government and school leaders and have our voices be heard in regards to violence and gun safety. I believe most of us in this country agree that there are measures we can and should take to make school environments safer and provide more assistance to those suffering from mental illness. I certainly don’t have the answers, but I cannot allow myself to do nothing. Silence = Acceptance. And while there is a part of me that is still working on gaining my confidence in finding my voice, I have great motivation to do so…my children. I certainly don’t want them asking me later in life, “Why didn’t you take a stand?” or “Why didn’t you do something? Why didn’t you try?” If I expect my children to find their voice and make a difference in the world, working with others to solve big problems, it starts with me as their parent.

While I would prefer a gun-free world, I know that’s not possible, and see no benefit in trying to pursue that as an avenue to solve this issue. Guns exist and will continue to do so. I am suggesting that we, as parents and as a country, have an opportunity to discuss these really important issues that we are not talking about because we are divided and or fear there is no middle ground. To me, gun safety isn’t an us versus them discussion. We collectively have to figure out how to address this issue.

The Sandy Hook families are not slipping into silence. In fact, they are leading the way in how we solve this problem together by forming a community around the discussion The Sandy Hook Promise: Parent Together to Prevent Gun Violence in Our Communities. It’s simple to join the community and be part of the conversation. Participate and let your voice be heard. Let’s figure out how we solve this problem together.

Silence = Acceptance. I won’t accept silence anymore.

How are you making your voice heard? How do you take action when it may be uncomfortable or not easy to do?

Spilt Milk

The phrase “don’t cry over spilt milk” took on new meaning for me this week. I brought my computer into the kitchen on Sunday morning with the plan of getting some writing done after breakfast. Instead of moving immediately into my writing, I invited my oldest son to come join me at the computer so we could watch some sports highlights that he had missed (due to his bedtime) from the night before.  My husband brought my son’s breakfast over to him to eat on the island where we were sitting including a glass of milk. My son and I finished watching our highlights and I got up to wash the dishes. A few minutes later I heard my son exclaim, “Uh-oh, sorry Mom.” I turned around to see what he was referring to. I quickly spotted the glass of milk laying across my keyboard with most of its contents now seeping into my computer. There was a momentary pause on my part. Did that just happen I thought. After I determined the answer was a resounding “yes” I quickly picked up the glass and started to towel off my machine. I turned the keyboard upside down and did everything I could think of to dry it off. I reassured my son everything was okay. I honestly thought the computer was going to be fine. I even powered it back on about fifteen minutes later without any problems.

Two days later I pulled out my machine to do some work on it. I hadn’t used it since I had powered it on after the milk spill. When I opened the computer I noticed there might be a problem. There was milk residue on the screen and on the keyboard. I thought I had gotten all the milk off, but clearly I hadn’t. Then I tried turning the computer on. It turned on, but wouldn’t let me log in. I was getting a strange battery empty signal (even though the computer was fully charged), and the cap lock key was stuck in the ON position. I shut the machine down and tried again. The second attempt had the same issues and the computer fan was now making a loud noise I’d never heard before. I knew the machine was in trouble, so I shut it down and quickly starting scrolling through my phone for a computer repair shop.  For anyone who has gone through a similar experience, you know that you first have to take your computer in to be diagnosed ($) and then pay someone to fix it ($$$). The milk spill damaged the keyboard requiring it to be replaced.  It took a while for the cost of this accident to sink in. Wow! I thought, I had no idea an accident like this could cost so much.

When I got home, I wanted to talk with my son. While what happened was an accident I wanted him to be aware of what happened as a result. I believed it was an opportunity for him to learn and us to grow together. I didn’t see anything positive coming from getting mad at or making my son feel terrible for the damage done and the financial burden we incurred. He didn’t mean to spill the milk and none of us had any idea what might happen if he did. We all learned a lesson that day. My son learned that when we get anything liquid on Mom’s computer it can cost more than what the Lego Star Wars Death Star set costs (my son understands what this means. He has wanted this set for a while, and we had to explain even Santa couldn’t afford it!), and my husband and I learned that no one can have any liquid around our electronics, and if we do, we need to understand the risk.

We had a very calm discussion about the whole thing. While having an unexpected expense wasn’t easy to take, it was easier to get through when I reminded myself, its just money. Yes, I’ll need to work a little harder to make up for what was lost, but I can’t put a dollar amount on going through this experience with my child.

The damaged computer and bill that followed could have made me cry, but instead I grew. In my opinion, it was worth every cent.

How do handle unexpected accidents? How have you helped your child learn from the experience?

Time

There never seems to be enough time, does there? There is always something going on, or needs to be done and time can easily get away from us. I often wish there were more hours in the day or that I had a Time Turner necklace like Hermione had in the Harry Potter series. Something to allow me to get everything done that I need to, and allow me to spend the quality time I want to with my family. Alas, time turners don’t exist nor do I anticipate the length of the day changing anytime soon. So what’s a parent to do?

I was fortunate enough to lead a parenting group discussion this past week and participate in another that had multiple speakers. With everything going on this week, including all the Halloween events, it could have easily been an overwhelming seven days. What I found was that speaking to the group of parents and participating in the other helped me in many ways. I was engaged in both discussions and felt alive versus going through the motions. I felt energized and whole. I learned valuable insight during both events. I was reminded of the power of, and energy boost I get from, being fully present not only with the adults around me, but also with my children. I was prompted to re-evaluate time — where I spend it, where I want to spend it and who I want to spend it with? The answers, though once difficult to articulate, now come with ease. I want to spend my time learning and sharing what I know with others. I identify strongly with being both a student and a teacher. I want to spend time with people who see value in what I have to offer, regardless if it’s a captivated audience (my children) or those that proactively seek me out. I want to spend time with people I care about most, my children and husband, and others who are special to me.

One of the speakers this past week shared a wonderful quote that I think summed up time best. “The days are long, but the years are short.” I think this statement captures time as a parent beautifully, though the days never seem long enough, and the years seem to get shorter and shorter (or go by quicker and quicker).

As we enter the beginning of the holiday season, where will you spend your time? Where do you want to spend your time? And who do you want to spend it with?