Noodle Kugel for...Lent?

Years and years ago, I worked at our Jewish Community Center. I loved that job! I was a receptionist, preschool aid, day care giver, camp counselor and latch key care giver. It was a lot of fun, and I loved, loved, loved learning many of the traditions of the Jewish faith. They were so beautiful, and I often thought to myself if I weren't Catholic, I could whole heartedly become Jewish. Now, while I am not one to convert to another religion for the food, the food of the Jewish people might convince one to do so. Matzo ball soup, Kosher deli sammys, Hamantashen, Noodle Kugel - ah, the kugel. I still dream of it, so, I'm gonna make it!

Here's what you need:

• 1 large package of  egg noodles
• 1/2 stick of  melted butter
• 16 oz tub of cottage cheese
• 16 oz tub of sour cream
• 4 eggs, beaten
• 1/3 cup sugar
• 2 Tbsp. good vanilla 
• A little bit of milk or cream poured over the top - not in the original, but I like to do this with most noodle dishes - mac 'n cheese - keeps it nice and moist while it bakes. Not too much, you don't want to loose the custard consistency! 

For the crunchy topping:

• 1 cup crushed cornflakes
• 2 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/4-1/2 cup sugar

Instructions:

• Cook your noodles - I tend to leave them just a little undone - less gummy later
• In a large bowl, mix the noodles with all the other ingredients
• Dump in all into a 9x13 pan (Pam it first!)
• Mix your topping ingredients - I like to crush the cornflakes just a bit - and sprinkle them over the noodles
• Bake the whole shebang for about an hour @350. Top should be brown and bubbly!    

Wish I had a beautiful photo - but until the other day when I posted a recipe on Facebook, it had never occurred to be to take a photo of food! I guess I better get with it - but make this - super yummy! A lady named Freda taught me how to make this one time for a teacher's meeting at the JCC, and I really loved it. She even showed me how to work in a Kosher kitchen, which was really interesting, and hard! Kugel is comfort food, for sure. Meatless, but I know there are chicken versions that sound good, too. But for Lent, this is a nice one. Serve it with a more substantial green salad, and your good to go for lunch or dinner on Friday!

10 Things My Mother Taught Me...

As I think back over some of my earlier posts, I am reminded of just how much my mother has taught me. As I approach 40, these things drift through my mind. I want to make sure I am living them, and teaching them to my children. So, here are 10 things my mother taught me, in no particular order.

1.  Do for others. Whether it is as a Girl Scout leader, a room mother, a volunteer for Right To Life, band mom, grandmother, mother, daughter, or babysitter. 
2. Always welcome people into your home, and to your table. I've written so many times about how my parents invited all of our friends in, everyone was welcome. My mom was a great cook, and she always made room at her table. "There's always room for one more!" was something she said all the time.
3. Look for the good in others. My mom used to tell me, when I was having a problem with someone in the neighborhood or at school, to always look for the good in others. "There is something good about everyone, you just have to find it!" she reminded me often.
4. Say your prayers. I can remember my mom teaching me to say my prayers, and then reminding me my whole life. I know she sometimes stops to pray before the Blessed Sacrament, and that brings her peace. I hope that I am teaching my children to have faith, the way she taught me to be faithful. 
5. Love your husband. My mom always cautioned us girls to be on the look out for a man like our dad. She'd tell us that we would be hard pressed to find anyone nearly as good, but that we should try. I think everyone who knows them, knows of their devotion to each other. It's a beautiful thing. I hope that my children see the same when they look at their father and me. I hope my girls learn to look for a man like their dad, and Papa Tom. 
6. Love your children. My parents loved us - there was no question. We never had to wonder. Both my mom and dad would do anything they could, and have, for their kids. They have been there through everything, rooting for us the whole time, and holding us up when we needed it.
7. Hold your babies. My mom told me when my first daughter was born, "Hold her, stare at her. The dishes will wait, but she will grow so fast, and you don't want to miss it." Because of my mom, I have held my babies. I have let the dishes sit, and stared. I will never, ever have to be sorry that I missed anything with them, because of all the things she has taught me, this one really impressed upon me how fleeting life in general is. So, I hold. I stare, and I try so hard to implant the image on my brain. I try to memorize the feel of that particular child in my arms, because I know it will only last but a second.  
8. Be nice. My mom used to tell me all the time, "You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar." This has served me well through the years. When tensions get high, and people start slinging unkind words around, it helps to have something nice to say. It stops people in their tracks, reminds them that they are dealing with human beings, and helps defray the tension. It helped me so many times when I felt like being unkind, and remembered what she taught me. 
9. Treasure your sisters and brother. My mom never had any sisters, but she was always so glad for us that we had each other. When I was younger, (and sometimes still), my youngest sister and I did not always get along. My mom would always tell me how lucky I was to have sisters, and that someday, she would be my best friend, and understand me when no one else could. How my mom knew this so well, I cannot say, but she is so, so right. Both of my sisters, and my sister-in-law are my very best friends. My mom had brothers, and has lost both of them. So, I treasure mine. He is one of the best people I know, and though he is a "little" brother, he looks out for me like a big brother would. My sisters and brother understand me so well. I ask their opinion before I make big decisions (and little ones, too). When I have a parenting, or more often, step parenting issue, I ask them for advice, knowing that they will never lead me astray. They are so much a part of me, I am actually glad I am the oldest, making it less likely I will ever have to live without them.
10. Believe you can do anything. My mom has always told me, "You can  do anything you put your mind to.", even the hard things. Even things I didn't want to have to do. She has pushed us, believed in us, and helped us make things happen in our lives. From degrees, to building a business, to finding true love, she has always been our biggest cheerleader. 

There are so many more, but these are the things I think of when I think of my mom. As I attempt to parent  young adults, I hope that I have taught them all of these things.  I hope they know I love them. I hope I have taught them to pray, and have faith in God. I hope they know I think they can do great things. I hope they have grown to love and appreciate their siblings. I hope I am teaching them all the things my mother taught me.

Lenten Season

Ash Wednesday has always been among my favorite of the Christian/Catholic rituals. I can remember going to Mass as a child, and seeing all the kids in school with the black cross smudged on their foreheads for the rest of the day. I think I even went a time or two with my grandma, I don't remember when, I just remember the Mass, and seeing the church full of cousins and aunts and uncles, and everyone coming away with the ashes.

I took my eight to Mass this evening. I love cramming my family into an already full church. Seeing the people who have made a point to attend Mass, in nurses uniforms, suits, work boots and dusty shirts. I love thinking about their lives, and how we all made this effort to get to Mass on a busy Wednesday, how we all gathered with the Communion of Saints, for the Eucharist, and the distribution of ashes. Knowing that this is happening across the globe - that lifts me up, makes me feel like a part of this body of Christ.



My two oldest daughters had planned to go to Mass with us, then out to a movie. This didn't sit well with me, but I didn't stop them from going. It didn't sit well, because I felt that they were not getting the contemplative nature of the Mass. They were going because I wanted them to, because it was Ash Wednesday, and they just did. We talked about the ashes on the way to church, a little refresher for some, and an introduction to the littles who likely did not recall it from last year. My oldest said she was going to wash her face before they left, and I was again bothered by her attitude. She didn't want people looking at her with her ash smudged cross on her forehead. I tried to figure out how to explain to her that while we certainly don't wear the ashes as some sort of badge of honor, they are not to be disregarded, either. They are a reminder from whence we came, and where we shall return.

As I watched the people file out of Mass, I thought they were beautiful. Many of them tired from a long day at work or school, they all filed out of Mass, smiling, talking quietly. The ashes on their foreheads would be a reminder to all who see it that Lent begins today. That a period of reflection and prayer has begun. That the sacrifices we make will be to honor the sacrifice of Christ, not fodder for Facebook statuses.

As I looked down the row at my own children's faces, now smudged with the ashes, I thought about tradition, about faith, and about teaching them to quietly pray, contemplate, and prepare. They of course, spent a good bit of the last week talking about what they were giving up for Lent. Giving something up is nice, but when you have so much, is it really meaningful? I told them that giving something up was wonderful, but that they also needed to do something - say extra prayers, do a good deed. Give of themselves, rather than simply giving up pudding or chocolate.

As my family moves into the Lenten season, we are going to focus on why we do these things, as much as doing them, it's important for them to know why. As I feel my oldest slipping out and away from the faith, forgetting who and why, I feel the need to instill to a greater degree in the ones I still have here, under my watchful eye. I hope that as she matures, she will return to her former love and understanding of Christianity, and more specifically, the Catholic faith. I know these are growing pains, and many college students go through it. I did. I was waiting for it. I just wish it weren't happening at a time when she thinks I have no idea what I am talking about. That, too is not unexpected, but it still hurts. She is spending some time with her beautiful 14 year old sister, who maybe can help recenter her a bit, as her faith is strong and growing.

I am going to post some Lenten friendly recipes, because I know it's hard sometimes to find things that are simple, yet appealing to littles. Check back tomorrow - a recipe for Friday - Noodle Kugel! I learned to make it when I worked at a Jewish Community Center. I loved it, and would like to share a recipe one of the ladies there gave me - you'll love it!

Count Down to 40

I don't have much enthusiasm left for this Count Down to 40 thing. When I was dreading it, and scared of it, it seemed important to try and create the self I want to be, so I would still be young, so I wouldn't have to to look/feel/think like a 40 year old. But I am 40 years old. Or almost. I may be making peace with it, but I am going to soak every last second of being 39! Thirty nine is still young. Still Thirty-Something. Remember that show? I don't really - it was too grown up for me. Then Friends came on, and they were just my age. I loved that show - still do - right down to the inappropriate situations and all. My mom has always been appalled that I watch that show. But that show was full of lovely things. It was cheerful, the friends were really very good friends to each other for the most part. They loved each other. I never really had a group of friends like that - I've had my siblings, and therefore, never really felt the need to branch out and find a "group". Plus, when I was 20+, I had Meg, and was going to school, and working a minimum of two jobs. I didn't have time for friends.

Counting down, I think that was a way for me to wrap my mind around the whole 40 thing. My husband turned 40 - eight years ago. It didn't seem to phase him. I think he thinks I am a little nutty for having worried over it so much. He didn't think it was a big deal, but I did. I threw him a big party, it was supposed to be a surprise, but somehow it got out. We had it a whole month early, too, because I was due with a new baby just before his actual birthday. So, we had a party, ate some cake, and tons of people came with canes and reading glasses and other old people paraphernalia.  And I laughed and laughed. Now, it doesn't seem quite so funny! Poor guy - he really, really does not like to be the center of attention - I wonder why I felt compelled to do that to him?

As for all my lofty goals - some of them are important to me - they are things I need to be doing no matter how old I am. In my often chaotic world, it seems whole days slip by without any effort on my part to do for others. I worry about this, we seem so secluded right now. I know that my main focus has to be on these kids, but I feel a pull to be doing more. I think I know what that tug is, but making room for it in our lives will be hard, making room for it in our house will be darn near impossible.

As for the self improvement goals - ya know, I just don't know how to get untired. I wake up exhausted, I fall into bed, never sleep well, and get up exhausted again. This is often punctuated by small people vomiting, wetting the bed, having bad dreams, waking up coughing, or just wanting mama. I'm not complaining, though I do fantasize about sleep. So exercise - just not happening, and yes, I know it would probably help me sleep better, and have more energy. But when? Just...when?

As for being more present, I truly do think I am doing a lot better with that - if I notice something like that, I pretty much correct it right away. My babies are getting lots of books read to them every night. I spend about 45 minutes putting them to bed, reading books, and saying prayers. They are loving it, and so am I.
The middle kids and I are going to be reading A Jungle Book and Treasure Island. When I am done with the little boys, we pile into my bed and I read to them. A classic, not junk, because they read enough goofy stuff on their own. This way I know they are getting the classics, though we choose the titles together.

And my Kenzie girl, she's my right hand. She and I spend a lot of time together, and she gets me all to herself for a good portion of every evening. We like to take turns playing songs for each other, each trying to get the other to listen to her music. It's fun, it keeps me in the loop of what she is listening to, and I get to expose her to the phenomenal 80's - like Men at Work or Debby Gibson or Pat Benatar. Good stuff!

So, with this, I hope my whining over turning 40 hasn't chased you all away. I promise to stop, get back to what I wanted this blog to be - a record. A record of these beautiful little lives springing up all around me, so fast I hardly have time to watch it happening. I don't want to forget this time, when I have been so very blessed. Blessed beyond imagining. A happy home, beautiful, healthy children, a delicious and adoring husband. A loving, supportive family with brothers and sisters and parents that are always there for me. What more could a girl ask for? Not a darn thing, but what ever the Lord has in store for me, I am ready.

My Kenzie Girl

My girl, my Kenzie Rosie, turned 14 years old this weekend. When my children have a birthday, we don't spend a lot of money, or take them fancy places, or throw big parties. For the most part, anyway.Usually we have a big family party a few times a year with all the extended family, but on their actual birthday, they get the dessert item of their choice, and I sing. I sing to them all day long. I start first thing in the morning, and repeat my little happy birthday ritual over and over, until they are kinda tired of it. My little ones have even said "Mom! Stop singing!", but I don't, and I don't plan to, ever. Because it's more than just their birthday. It's the anniversary of a life long love.

When my Mackenzie was born, she was born into a blended family. A blended family that actually wasn't blending so well. And then she was born. Each of the girls had a sister, a real, related by blood sister. They were both her sister. They were finally united on at least one thing - they wanted to play with Kenzie, hold Kenzie and be a big sister to Kenzie. She came along and made us a family. Later of course, they would unite to torture and tease her, but at that moment in time an wars that were fought were about who got to hold her or whose turn was next. Typical, in my book. I was so glad for any kind of typical sibling rivalry at that point. It wasn't stressful, it was fun. It made me feel like we were finally a real family. It was all the blended issues that were so stressful.

As Kenzie grew, she became more and more lovely. Honestly, not just a mama's opinion. She was so pretty, it was almost embarrassing. People would stop us in stores and at restaurants to tell us how pretty she was. It was hard, because then, they would feel compelled to turn to the other girls and exclaim "Oh! They ALL are!" But the girls saw right through that, and they were a little jealous about all the attention she got. I can't blame them for having hurt feelings, they were pretty little, just 6 and 7 when she was born. I told them that people just love babies, and aren't shy about talking to babies. I think they grew to understand that this was at least partially true.

Now the big girls are grown, away at college and Kenzie really misses her big sisters, until they come home and drive her crazy. But they go to the movies, and have some common interests now that she is a little older.They still pick on her, and she gets annoyed with them, but they are sisters. Someday, they will all be so glad to have one another.

For now, she's still my little Kenzie Rosie, the one who made us a family. The girl who stole my heart and has yet to give it back. She's 14 now, and nearly all grown up. She'll be in high school next year, so in four short years she will be leaving me, too. Off to college to make her own way in the world. She's going to have to put up with a lot from me over the next four years. It's going to always be in my mind that she will be next to leave, so I will have to work to not smother her.

So for now, she's still my baby girl. When I look at her, I still see the little girl with the big eyes and the long, long brown hair. I think that's how I will always see her. When I stand up at her wedding to watch her dad walk her down the aisle, I know my mind will flash back to that little girl. And I'll bawl my eyes out - but, that's what mothers do.
Happy Birthday, Kenzie Girl, I love you more than you know. 

The Count Down to 40 Continues

It's next Saturday - it looms ahead of me, but for some reason, it's not bothering me so much anymore. It was, just yesterday I recoiled at the mention of it, but I didn't really feel it. I mean, I've said the words I have been saying - "Oh, no! I don't want to think about it!" and the "Can we please forget it is happening?!". But I haven't really felt them the last few days. I think... can it be? I think I might be making peace with this whole 40, your life is now half over thing.

I've been trying to analyze the daylights out of the whole aging thing - and if you know me at all, you know I tend to over analyze the daylights out of everything. I think I know why it's been bugging me so much - there are several reasons, and while they have to do with aging, they are not really about my aging.

1. My grandmother. She's 90 this year. And she's in a nursing home. Except that she doesn't know she's at a nursing home. She thinks she is at school, or at a friends house or somewhere, and is waiting anxiously for her mother and dad to come pick her up. They must be in a fright by now, you see. Watching her deteriorate has been heartbreaking. And frightening. Every little memory problem I have has me convinced that I am losing my mind - literally.

2. My mom and dad. My parents, especially my mom, who is my friend, my advocate, my champion and my cheerleader, and sometimes banker (ha!), have had some health issues the last couple of years. I hate the idea of them getting older. I want them to be young forever, and I am having a hard time with the clock ticking by.

3. My babies. Yeb is nearly two years old. While the decision to be done having babies (God willing) was a hard one, I truly think it was the right one. That doesn't mean that the kids growing up is easy. The idea of no cribs, no diapers, no nursing, no wee babe to cuddle in the night makes my heart hurt, it actually makes me tear up. To my babies, every one of you, I have LOVED EVERY LAST SECOND of your babyhoods. Even the sleeplessness. Even the crying and the endless nursing. Every bit. Please don't grow up and leave me! Okay, you can grow up and leave me, but you have to promise to come back and bring your babies. I will babysit! I have references and I will work for free!

All these things are things I cannot change. Time will continue to pass no matter how I feel about it, so I might as well get on board. I think I am ready. The thought no longer strikes fear in my heart, so that's progress, right? Besides, no matter what waits for me in the future, the Lord will be there to guide me through. What more could a 27 40 year old ask for?

Count Down to 40 - 12 Days to Go!

How am I doing with all the goals, wishes for self improvement and long lasting peace with the aging process, you are probably not wondering? Not well. I want to be one of these beautiful girls I graduated with whom I now see on Facebook nearly everyday, celebrating a 40th birthday. You know what it feels like? It feels like that movie from the 70s - The Thirty Year Olds. Remember it? Probably not, I barely do, and only because my parents were watching it one night, and my sister and I watched it, peaking around the corner from the upstairs. We weren't supposed to be watching it, but for some reason that movie has always stuck in my head. The plot was sort of Machiavellian in that the population of where ever they were killed people off once they hit 30 years of age. I don't remember much more than that, and I tried Googling it, but all I could find was this article about how 40 year old need to buy long term care insurance. Really? You've got to be kidding me. Anyway, I just am not really digging the whole "40" thing.

Honestly, do you really, really want to know what it is? While I am all for self improvement and being a better person and all that, embracing my age, feeling the wisdom - whatever - the problem I am having is that I don't want to be fat and forty. I don't. I don't want to feel like I have one foot in the grave already, and turning 40, knowing I am half way through my life, most likely, and I wasted my 20s and 30s being fat. Yep, I am that vain. I have a beautiful family, and an amazing husband. I know, we built this family during my 20s and 30s. I used 6 years of my 20s getting through college.  I did not waste that time, really. But, I always had it in my head that I would make it up to myself (the never losing all the baby weight, compounding it, etc), by being healthy and fit, and yes, wanting to make my husband drool a little at 40. Not exactly a spiritual or mature goal, is it? So, I console myself with a bowl of cereal, or something equally carbish, at 11pm, when no one should be eating.

So there you have it, web world. I have 12 days left to become the me I want to be when I am 40. I need to pray more, I need to be more present. And I need to do more for my family, household, and my beautiful Douglas. I can get so wrapped up in what needs to be done for school, bills, phone calls, appointments, work, all that stuff. I honestly could sit at my desk all the time and never be done. There are too many days when I do exactly that. And then, to distract myself, or change the subject and end the tedium, I waste some time on Facebook. Awesome.

 Enough with the negativity, that's more annoying that anything else, right? When the day rolls around, as it surely will - there doesn't seem to be any stopping time - I hope to just pretend it isn't happening, so I can be 27 in my head, and not acknowledge the day, or the number. I hate that this is bugging me so much. It's just a number. If it were someone else whining this much about it I would tell them to get over it. If there was something they didn't like, then get off their duff and change it! I need a swift kick or two.

So, goals? Really, just acceptance, or avoidance. Either one. Deciding that it's really not a big deal would be a good place to start.