Occupied at Ten

Driving home from school the other day I asked Joe (10) if he'd heard about the Occupy Wall Street movement.

"No."

They haven't talked about it in school?

"No."

So I started to explain that people are angry because of the growing divide between the rich and poor due, in part, to corruption of financial institutions and blah blah blah...

"OH! oh I think I know what you mean."

You do?

"Yeah. Remember when Grandma took me to open my savings account at Wells Fargo?"

Yes.

"We put in $30 and then the next time that Grandma came to visit we went back to the bank to put in ten more dollars but there was only FIVE DOLLARS left!"

Oh?

"Grandma was so mad and said it wasn't right and that I should be getting money: INTEREST. But the Banker told her it didn't work that way and there was a $10 fee every month the balance was below $100.... Is that what you mean by Occupy Wallstreet?"

Yup. He understands perfectly.

Rules and Routines

(NOTE: This post was originally published at Single Mama NYC Single Moms Sunday series on July 17, 2011. I may or may not have taken the liberty to change certain facts upon this republication.) 

Every parent knows that predictability provides a comforting familiarity that children crave. When my kids were babies, I made my plans around nap-time. Missing the afternoon siesta resulted in meltdowns at dinner that could take hours to tame. People thought I was nuts (can't they nap in the car? in the stroller? in my bedroom?) but I learned quickly not to change the things that worked. I learned that routine mattered.

I don't have babies anymore. My kids are 10 and 6 but routine still matters... more for me, than them.

It started with the garbage. Taking it out every Thursday evening had been my husband's job. Now that I was alone the job - like so many other things - was mine. Then one night about a year ago, as I dragged the bins the curb, it dawned on me that I hadn't thought much about the garbage for months. "Remembering" to take it out had become as second nature as bringing in the mail every day...

This was a huge revelation because, although the weekly "routine" seemed to be under control, daily activities were not. The worst of it occurred in the morning rush to school - what to wear, eat for breakfast, pack lunch, etc. DVD's were watched while eating and fights broke out when it was time to leave ("just five more minutes!!!") School starts at eight a.m. We were always late.

So I started to institute new rules and routines. Not just for the kids - but for me. Lunches had to be made and packed the night before - likewise for choosing my daughter's outfits. I had to get up earlier and shower before waking them. They are allowed one mutually agreed upon television show to watch while eating breakfast. But no DS, Computer, smartphone, or anything else that could result in a reply such as "let me just finish this level!!!"

The first month was hard. Like you, I'm tired at the end of the day. I've worked, carted kids around, made dinner, gone grocery shopping and any number of other things. But I made myself prepare the lunches every single night. Upon waking, the relief of having this chore done was significant.

Now it's been almost a year and I've got the routine perfected. I wake every morning pleased that the "night-time-me" took care of the "morning-time-me." My kids wake up to a smiling, un-frazzled mom. We don't have to rush or raise voices. Everything is prepared.

I've listed what I do below. What are your life-saving routines? (Not just morning routines - I'd like to hear about ALL routines that help you manage.)

Evening Routine
(while the kids entertain themselves after dinner and/or after they go to bed)

• choose my daughter's clothes with her
• clear table and clean dinner dishes
• make lunches
• prepare coffee maker 
• tidy up the living room

I allow one 15-20 minute TV show
while eating breakfast.

Morning Routine 
(while the kids sleep *note I sleep downstairs and the rest of the house is upstairs)

• wake at six and go upstairs
• push the button on the coffee maker
• shower
• fill my mug with coffee, smile at the filled lunch boxes when I open the fridge to grab the cream, and go back downstairs
• dress
• sit down on my bed with my coffee and iPad or laptop and play (ie. Words with Friends, twitter, facebook, etc.) This has become one of my favorite times of the day.
• 7 a.m. I wake the kids and get them dressed
• they're eating breakfast by 7:30 (and I'm finding I have time to make them pancakes if they want)
• the agreement is no electronics but I allow one 15-20 minute tv show while eating breakfast. (I'd like to nix this, but for now it makes them happy and happy means a smoother morning)
• and we're out the door by 10 minutes to 8

Braids Before Bed

All ready for bed!

My daughter has a mane of thick wavy golden hair. Over her (six) years we've seen it through several styles. First, bangs with the classic bob. Then, after getting lice in preschool, we cut it all off and it curled up into a little old lady style that somehow suited her. Since then we've been growing it out. She has no bangs and it's gotten pretty long - to the middle of her back.

Getting to the point where I can actually comb through her tresses without tears has been a mess of trial and error. After years of fights, we've finally come up with a system that works for us and I'm sharing it here in hopes it might work for some of you as well.

• Hair is washed every other night.
• In the shower I put in shampoo and conditioner at the same time and, after scrubbing her head, allow it to sit on her hair while I wash the rest of her body.
• Using a wide toothed comb I comb through her hair while the shampoo/conditioner is on her head. 
• Rinse it all out.
• Towel dry hair by squeezing (not rubbing) into a towel.
• Comb through again (should be super easy) and braid (this is a crucial step) before going to bed.
• In the morning take the braids out and brush (should be very few knots because the braids have kept it from knotting up) and re-style for the day.
• Evenings when it's not washed we brush and braid it before bedtime so the morning is easy and ready for restyling.

Following this routine has made our mornings so much easier. There are never tears and rarely arguments. She's become excited about trying different hair styles and tolerant to the time it takes me to achieve them. More important, bedtime hair-brushing before books has become a time for us to bond, chat about the day and plan for tomorrow.

It's amazing to me that something we used to dread so much has become a lovely end-of-day ritual that leaves us both smiling.

On weekend mornings (when there is more time) she
can take out the braids and brush her hair -get this -
all by herself!

There is Wine on the Ceiling

While at shopping at Trader Joe's yesterday I decided to buy the ingredients for meat sauce. Along with ground beef, garlic, onions, beef broth and tomatoes, I usually add red wine so I picked up some Two Buck Chuck. 

Once home I chopped up and sauteed the onion and garlic in olive oil for about 20 minutes - until the onion was translucent. I added the ground beef, breaking it up into small pieces and browning well. Dumping in one can of tomatoes and one can of beef broth I set about to open the wine.

Where was the corkscrew?  I searched everywhere without luck. My sauce was simmering but a main ingredient was missing. Desperate, I grabbed a knife and stabbed it into the cork.

Obediently, it plunged into the bottle allowing the wine to squirt out freely.

  Everywhere.

I need a corkscrew.

Where Did the Time Go?

I made the skirt for six-year-old Maia with about a yard of fabric (given to me by an awesome friend), elastic for the waist and some red rik-rak along the bottom seam. The shirt she never wore because she didn't like the picture (it was Andy Warhol) so I covered it with a piece of the skirt fabric. 

I kinda can't believe I made this.

I started at 10am and suddenly it was noon.

Cowgirl Skirt and Shirt Set 

The Zone

In seventh grade I somehow ended up in a sewing class. I don't even remember why I chose it. I'd never used a sewing machine before - let alone hand sewn a button. None of my friends sewed. It wasn't something that interested my parents.

But I found myself in the sewing class with a dozen machines, a bunch of girls I didn't know and a silver-haired teacher with glasses and a stern face. Our first project was a pair of shorts. For the life of me I couldn't figure out how the front and back came together to create something that could be worn. My mom took me to the fabric store and I chose a lavender cotton with tiny white dots. It wasn't a pattern I would ever wear, but I wasn't really thinking about that. It hadn't occurred to me that this new hobby could produce garments I'd actually be seen in.

Halfway through the semester, my parents and sister went on vacation (being an uncomfortably rebellious teenager, I refused to go.) A friend of my mom's had a daughter in college - Laura - and she came to stay with mr for the week.

Laura arrived with her sewing machine and a stack of Seventeen Magazines saying, "I heard you like to sew, so I brought these projects for us to work on!" The project was to sew two t-shirts into a dress and embellish with ribbons and such. The magazine photos were SO cute. We got started.

Sewing requires a lot of space so we set up on the long table in the kitchen. Snipping and seaming and gathering and sewing. I was fully involved and ended up with - if not an exact replica on the Seventeen model - something that was very close. Done! I looked at the clock and it was half past twelve. Midnight. The last time I'd looked it had been around 8. It was the first time in my life that I'd gotten so absorbed in a task (save reading) that everything else disappeared.

I call that place "the zone" and it's a wonderful place to be. There are very few activities that get me there, but the ones that do are my confirmed passions. Certainly reading was the first - getting so involved in a story that I entered the world inside the book. Then sewing, as I mentioned. In my late teens it became apparent that cooking and preparing for a party put me in that zone. Where others became frazzled and stressed at the thought of entertaining, I found the hours before the guests arrived to be similar to a solo dance around my home - cooking and cleaning and decorating - nothing else mattered. Then in my early 20s - three quarters of the way through a Masters in Jewish Studies - I got a computer and discovered a program called Printshop. It was my boyfriend's birthday and I had no money so I made him an extended card - a booklet really. It took me hours to complete - learning the program as I went along - but time stood still. Once again, it was almost midnight. Little did I know I'd discovered my career.

It took another three or four years before I realized that design could put me in that "zone" for which I longed. Then it took another few years before I understood that graphic design was a job and I could make it mine.

So here I am. It's 18 years later and I'm a graphic designer. I'm lucky that my work allows me to enter "the zone" on a regular basis. Don't get me wrong! It's not all timeless activity. Reaching that place is still a novelty but it's always a pleasure coming out of it with a beautiful product to show my client.

I bring this all up now because last week a friend bought me - I mean Maia - a sewing machine. I've been teaching both kids to make pillows and bags from scraps of fabric and old clothes. This weekend the kids are with their dad so I thought I'd try my hand at sewing from a pattern again -- first time in a couple of decades. I decided to go with pajama pants (which I needed) and bought a pattern and some gorgeous fabric on sale. I got started at around two pm. Next thing I know it's 4:30 and I have a pair of jammies that are über cool. The afternoon happily melted away. In fact - I forgot to eat - which is great since it's Yom Kippur and I was supposed to be fasting anyway.

How do you reach the "zone?"

 

World's Easiest Blackberry Galette

Last week I walked into the local market to find mounds of plump ripe blackberries begging me to take them home. I'm a compassionate soul and complied.

Once home I perused the kitchen for ingredients to bring out the most flavor from the berries and found a box of pre-made pie-crust, sugar and ... yes, I had one egg left. All the makings for a galette.

Following the directions on the pie-crust box I unrolled it flat on a piece of wax paper. After gently tossing the blackberries in about a half cup of sugar, I dumped them onto the middle of my pie dough.

Folding it all up is easy - fold up one section at a time - overlapping like pleats so that all the berries are contained.

To save washing, I cracked the egg into the same bowl that was used to toss the berries. A pastry or basting brush can be used (as can the back of a soup spoon) to brush the egg (white, yolk or both - your choice) onto the dough. A final sprinkle of sugar and into a 350 degree oven for about a half hour  - or until the crust is firm and golden.

Let cool slightly before serving with ice cream and shaved chocolate.

(Be sure to save some for the next morning - berry galette is gorgeous for breakfast with a strong cup of coffee.)

Joe eats his galette happily.

Sept. 29, 2011 - UPDATE:
Last night I made two galettes  - one with peaches and strawberries and one with figs. The only thing I did differently than the blackberry galette is that I added brown sugar and butter to the top of the fruit. Raves.