MommyCoddle

commonplace

I can't take any credit for this idea, it belongs completely to Dan. Maybe I can earn some points for the follow-through of doing research and making an informed purchasing decision?

Anyway….a few weeks ago, Dan asked me to find a commonplace for Emma. A commonplace, if you don't know (I didn't) refers to compiling knowledge, usually into books. It is a practice that dates back to Early Modern Europe. (thank you, wikipedia)

In this case, Dan wanted me to find a journal for Emma to record the books she has been reading.

Emma was a very reluctant reader. It took quite awhile for the fire to catch. But now, she's the kid who (unbeknownst to her parents) stays up until midnight to finish a book. The girl who disappears into her room to read and read and read. I'm so happy to see her love reading. But I have to admit, there's this part of me that wonders a bit about the speed at which she reads.

She comes to me with a chapter book and says, "I need to go to the library tomorrow. I finished this one today."

Nevermind that we'd been to the library that morning.

I know she's not a careful reader. I've learned that in our interactions during the school day. But she is still getting the gist of what she reads. She knows what's going on in the story. And it's recreational reading. Do I let it go and just be happy that she's finally reading? I still feel a bit torn about it all. But how, exactly does one force a child to slow down their reading? For now my philosophy is that this is recreational reading. She is reading for enjoyment. We can work at all the other "stuff" during school hours. This is her time to relax and read. Right? Right.

But that's a topic for another day….

Emma has really taken to keeping track of the books she's reading. She rates them, writes a few words about what she thought of the book or how her mean mother STILL hasn't found more of these books for her.

It's a great habit to be in, I believe. In fact, I wish I did the same. I'm so forgetful, especially when it comes to what I read. (Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I read right before bed until the book flops down on my chest.)

I'm hoping she'll continue with this through the Summer. And in the Fall, I'll get one for Mary, too, who is rapidly gaining on her sister in the reading department.

You can find the reading journal I chose for the girls here on amazon or on the Potter Style site.

I can't take any credit for this idea, it belongs completely to Dan. Maybe I can earn some points for the follow-through of doing research and making an informed purchasing decision?

In this case, Dan wanted me to find a journal for Emma to record the books she has been reading.

She comes to me with a chapter book and says, "I need to go to the library tomorrow. I finished this one today."

Nevermind that we'd been to the library that morning.

But that's a topic for another day….

I'm hoping she'll continue with this through the Summer. And in the Fall, I'll get one for Mary, too, who is rapidly gaining on her sister in the reading department.

You can find the reading journal I chose for the girls here on amazon or on the Potter Style site.

26 Comments

a recipe for sweet relief

Prepare yourself. Now begins the season where I need to discuss the weather constantly. Good-bye Maryland Spring, hello Maryland heat and humidity. We obviously have no air conditioning in this little gem of a farmhouse. I find myself relentlessly checking the weather, the weather maps, the hourly forecast, hoping for a break in temperatures, a drop in humidity, a good strong storm. (And dream about slipping off to an air-conditioned condo in the city. I've said that before, haven't I ?)

So we learn to make-do and deal with the heat.

As little Jane Fonda here can attest, it has been pretty wicked the past several days. I'm in survival mode. I'm not above a sno-cone break in the middle of the afternoon. Cereal for dinner when it's too hot to cook or even eat.

But one good thing that has come from this recent heat wave is my adaptation and (near) perfection of my grandmother's iced tea recipe.

You must know that the rule in my grandmother's house was that you had to be 13 to drink the tea. It has twice the caffeine and all the sugar, so you practically need a license to drink it. But a glass of that tea, full to the brim, overflowing with ice, is enough to momentarily keep even the worst hazy humidity at bay.

Now my grandmother had 15 children. Her version of this tea was brewed on the stove top, and poured into a giant stainless steel pitcher in her industrial-sized refrigerator. With the constant flow of children (over 13), visitors and guests, she always kept two pitchers going at the same time.

Well, my family, with only 2 of-age drinkers, doesn't quite need the same volume of iced tea.

I also didn't want to boil water. I'm that lazy in this weather. And I wanted to see if I could make a small concentrated version as my starting point.

So my recipe is your recipe. You can thank me later.

ICED TEA FOR THE OVER 13 CROWD

Fill a quart canning jar with cold water.

Add 3 large tea bags. ( I generally use Lipton and the bags I used are the jumbo-sized ones about the size of your palm. But any bag will do, you'll just have to tweak the amount.)

Screw the lid on the jar, securing the bags and set in a sunny spot outside.

Let your tea get a good sun tan. No really, a long steep is critical to this tea. I put mine out in the afternoon and bring it in the next afternoon. Almost a full 24 hour steep. You want it nice and dark.

Remove the bags and dump your tea concentrate plus 2 more quart jars of cold water into a pitcher.

Add 1/2 cup of sugar

Add a generous 3/4ths of a 12 ounce can of frozen lemonade concentrate**

Stir well.

Get a large glass of ice, a sprig of mint and thirst be-gone!

**I hate to waste that last little bit of lemonade concentrate in the bottom of the can. Dump it into your quart jar, fill it up with cold water. Put the lid on and give it a good shake. And take it out to your husband–who's dripping in sweat while chopping wood for WINTER!

So we learn to make-do and deal with the heat.

But one good thing that has come from this recent heat wave is my adaptation and (near) perfection of my grandmother's iced tea recipe.

Well, my family, with only 2 of-age drinkers, doesn't quite need the same volume of iced tea.

I also didn't want to boil water. I'm that lazy in this weather. And I wanted to see if I could make a small concentrated version as my starting point.

So my recipe is your recipe. You can thank me later.

ICED TEA FOR THE OVER 13 CROWD

Fill a quart canning jar with cold water.

Add 3 large tea bags. ( I generally use Lipton and the bags I used are the jumbo-sized ones about the size of your palm. But any bag will do, you'll just have to tweak the amount.)

Screw the lid on the jar, securing the bags and set in a sunny spot outside.

Remove the bags and dump your tea concentrate plus 2 more quart jars of cold water into a pitcher.

Add 1/2 cup of sugar

Add a generous 3/4ths of a 12 ounce can of frozen lemonade concentrate**

Stir well.

Get a large glass of ice, a sprig of mint and thirst be-gone!

16 Comments

family / home / life (in general) / MOTHERHOOD

someday is here

I hope my mother will weigh in on this, but seriously, can we discuss this picture? I found it when I was going through oldies recently.

This picture was taken at a 4-H meeting that was being held at our farm. The memory still fresh in my brain.

There were people present. People outside of our family. I was in public!

I was standing in front of the 4-H club, seething with jealousy that I wasn't old enough to be a member like my brother and sisters.

I knew I needed a way to be part of the night, to draw some of that focus back to me. I needed drama. What I needed was an attention-grabbing demonstration. I remember the topic I settled on had something to do with how to (ahem), remove a horse's head. (My eldest daughter might disown me if she caught wind of this.)

I remember that stainless steel bowl was full of grass, to serve as a distraction for the horse before head removal.

And of course, one needs a knife to handle this job. A butter knife, of course.

I remember gathering the supplies in the kitchen snickering under my breath at what a comedic genius I was. This was gonna be good!

But mom, can we discuss my outift? The tube top? With my white baby belly hanging out? Were you done fighting battles for the day? Did I sneak off and put it on without your knowledge? Was it so hot that night that you were concerned I might sweat through a normal-sized tshirt that covered more than my upper torso?

I was definitely getting attention. I'm thinking it was for the shirt, not the morbid demonstration.

Funny thing is, I find myself in the trenches of this battle, too. Maybe not tube tops, but I've been known to be seen in public with small children in striped skorts pulled up over jeans with polkda-dot tshirts and wool sweaters. Ballet tutus. Tall black rubber barn boots on the hottest dog days of summer. Children who look like they've been pulled from the pages of a Little House story versus the 21st century.

I can hear the "someday you'll understand" refrain in my head. And I smile at my 6 year-old self. And I give a knowing nod to my mother. Someday is here.