I received an e-mail from my mom the day after posting: "Just read your blog to Dad. He says he STILL loves peanut butter cookies." So there you have it. :-)
-ma'am
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Food, glorious food
You're ready, right? All your preparations are made and you're fixin' to get ready to celebrate on Thursday? Because you know it's the high holiday, at least here at The House.
What, you can't recall exactly which very special day we commemorate March 1? Silly. . .it's national Peanut Butter Lovers Day, of course!
If you know us at all, you know how very central peanut butter is our existence. I'm rather famous in these parts for snatching up as many 2-pound jars of PB as I can when they're BOGO at the grocery store. (That stands for Buy One, Get One free for you non-couponers in the crowd.) At the moment, I have 5 unopened jars -- OK, tubs -- in the pantry and the in-use jar is about half gone.
The deal is that both boys eat PB with their crackers of choice almost every day for lunch. They have peanut butter on toast for breakfast during the week and on pancakes or waffles on the weekend. (Although they've recently been trying syrup, as well.) And if they don't happen to care for whatever's on the dinner menu. . .yep, a peanut butter sandwich.
With few exceptions, Boy #1 has eaten peanut butter as his lunch entree every day since he was 2. Every. Single. Day. He used to favor Cheez-Its to add a bit of diversity, but currently enjoys Goldfish. And he's passed his love of all things peanut buttery on to his brother, who prefers Cheez-Its at the moment.
So you know we'll be celebrating on Thursday.
The one oddity in this love affair with the sticky brown stuff is that both boys refuse to even consider trying a peanut butter cookie. Can you imagine?
I have my own storied past with said cookies. One summer, when I must've been about 10 (I think), I decided to enter my peanut butter cookies in the county 4-H Fair. I have no idea why I decided this, but I did.
The problem was that, in order to enter, you had to present 4 -- FOUR! -- perfectly identical cookies to be judged. Same size, same shape, same perfectly matched cross-hatch marks across their very same shade of brown tops. Do you know how hard it is to achieve that degree of perfection as a 10-year-old novice baker?
My father can tell you precisely, because he had to eat all the cookies that didn't make the cut. As best as I remember, I made somewhere in the neighborhood of 7-to-8 complete batches of cookies to get the 4 I finally entered. The others all went into the freezer. I don't think I even got a ribbon for all my efforts. . . which could be why I haven't baked peanut butter cookies since. (And it's been a good, long while since I was 10!)
But that's all changing in light of national Peanut Butter Lovers day. You see, my boys have recently gotten adventurous -- for them -- in their eating. They've tried things that wouldn't have received a second glance just a few months ago. Get this: They both took several bites of a chicken florentine dish I made the other night. . .and they tried the spinach! They didn't necessarily like it, but that's beside the point.
So I'm striking while the iron (or the oven, as is were) is hot. I've decided to try peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips because, really, who could resist? They both love Reece's peanut butter cups, so this is just the cookie form of that, no?
Celebrate well! I'd love to hear what peanut buttery concoctions y'all come up with.
-ma'am
What, you can't recall exactly which very special day we commemorate March 1? Silly. . .it's national Peanut Butter Lovers Day, of course!
If you know us at all, you know how very central peanut butter is our existence. I'm rather famous in these parts for snatching up as many 2-pound jars of PB as I can when they're BOGO at the grocery store. (That stands for Buy One, Get One free for you non-couponers in the crowd.) At the moment, I have 5 unopened jars -- OK, tubs -- in the pantry and the in-use jar is about half gone.
The deal is that both boys eat PB with their crackers of choice almost every day for lunch. They have peanut butter on toast for breakfast during the week and on pancakes or waffles on the weekend. (Although they've recently been trying syrup, as well.) And if they don't happen to care for whatever's on the dinner menu. . .yep, a peanut butter sandwich.
With few exceptions, Boy #1 has eaten peanut butter as his lunch entree every day since he was 2. Every. Single. Day. He used to favor Cheez-Its to add a bit of diversity, but currently enjoys Goldfish. And he's passed his love of all things peanut buttery on to his brother, who prefers Cheez-Its at the moment.
So you know we'll be celebrating on Thursday.
The one oddity in this love affair with the sticky brown stuff is that both boys refuse to even consider trying a peanut butter cookie. Can you imagine?
I have my own storied past with said cookies. One summer, when I must've been about 10 (I think), I decided to enter my peanut butter cookies in the county 4-H Fair. I have no idea why I decided this, but I did.
The problem was that, in order to enter, you had to present 4 -- FOUR! -- perfectly identical cookies to be judged. Same size, same shape, same perfectly matched cross-hatch marks across their very same shade of brown tops. Do you know how hard it is to achieve that degree of perfection as a 10-year-old novice baker?
My father can tell you precisely, because he had to eat all the cookies that didn't make the cut. As best as I remember, I made somewhere in the neighborhood of 7-to-8 complete batches of cookies to get the 4 I finally entered. The others all went into the freezer. I don't think I even got a ribbon for all my efforts. . . which could be why I haven't baked peanut butter cookies since. (And it's been a good, long while since I was 10!)
But that's all changing in light of national Peanut Butter Lovers day. You see, my boys have recently gotten adventurous -- for them -- in their eating. They've tried things that wouldn't have received a second glance just a few months ago. Get this: They both took several bites of a chicken florentine dish I made the other night. . .and they tried the spinach! They didn't necessarily like it, but that's beside the point.
So I'm striking while the iron (or the oven, as is were) is hot. I've decided to try peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips because, really, who could resist? They both love Reece's peanut butter cups, so this is just the cookie form of that, no?
Celebrate well! I'd love to hear what peanut buttery concoctions y'all come up with.
-ma'am
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Shift in attitude
Not too long ago, we all went to a friend's birthday celebration. Since the party was for an adult, the kids all retreated to the host child's room to play while the rest of us were chatting and finishing up the cake.
During the ensuing adult-free time, both boys did something very unkind to another friend who was also at the party. While they apologized under duress, it was clear they didn't understand the severity of what they'd done, so The Husband and I brought them home early. (This, btw, is one of my least favorite aspects of parenting. Just so you know.)
Getting ready for bed the next night, Boy #2 started his prayers. "God, thank you for the good day and the fun time. Thank you for the fun playing Wii. . . ." He wrinkled his little brow and looked at me accusingly. "Mommy! I didn't get to play Wii today!"
Yes, I explained, that was true, because the consequences of their actions at the party meant no Wii for 3 days.
With a heavy sigh that only a 4-year-old can muster, he continued his prayers, "Thank you, God, for the BAD day. . . ."
I got a good chuckle at the time, but it's stuck with me -- this attitude of his. Of course God knows we'll have bad days; He allows them and sends them. And He knows exactly how we feel about what's transpired on those days.
And then He tells us to give thanks in ALL things (1 Thes. 5:18), no matter how we feel about them. It reminds me of writings I've read by people who are grateful for their bills -- because they have a roof over their heads and a safe place to sleep. Or those who are grateful for a rotten day at work -- because they have a job and an income. Or those who are even grateful for dirty socks and underwear on the floor -- because their life is graced with family.
Less than 2 months after Thanksgiving, my littlest boy (who is one of the sweetest munchkins you'll ever meet -- really) reminded me of the attitude I need to have. Thank you, Lord, for this boy-shaped blessing. Please make me more like him.
-ma'am
During the ensuing adult-free time, both boys did something very unkind to another friend who was also at the party. While they apologized under duress, it was clear they didn't understand the severity of what they'd done, so The Husband and I brought them home early. (This, btw, is one of my least favorite aspects of parenting. Just so you know.)
Getting ready for bed the next night, Boy #2 started his prayers. "God, thank you for the good day and the fun time. Thank you for the fun playing Wii. . . ." He wrinkled his little brow and looked at me accusingly. "Mommy! I didn't get to play Wii today!"
Yes, I explained, that was true, because the consequences of their actions at the party meant no Wii for 3 days.
With a heavy sigh that only a 4-year-old can muster, he continued his prayers, "Thank you, God, for the BAD day. . . ."
I got a good chuckle at the time, but it's stuck with me -- this attitude of his. Of course God knows we'll have bad days; He allows them and sends them. And He knows exactly how we feel about what's transpired on those days.
And then He tells us to give thanks in ALL things (1 Thes. 5:18), no matter how we feel about them. It reminds me of writings I've read by people who are grateful for their bills -- because they have a roof over their heads and a safe place to sleep. Or those who are grateful for a rotten day at work -- because they have a job and an income. Or those who are even grateful for dirty socks and underwear on the floor -- because their life is graced with family.
Less than 2 months after Thanksgiving, my littlest boy (who is one of the sweetest munchkins you'll ever meet -- really) reminded me of the attitude I need to have. Thank you, Lord, for this boy-shaped blessing. Please make me more like him.
-ma'am
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