These are a few of my favorite (Thanksgiving) things

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What do you love most about Thanksgiving?

Sodahead, an opinion-based community, recently asked its members exactly that, then made a nifty infographic of the answers. Here are some highlights of the results:

 

 

The full Sodahead infographic on Thanksgiving favorites can be found here.

Sodahead never asked me about my favorites, but here are a few of them:

  • Tops is spending time with my family. Many years we've taken a trip to South Dakota to spend the holiday with Jim's extended family. Two years ago, our entire family celebrated in the desert, with Megan and Preston hosting. Most years, though, have meant a houseful of people, with extra chairs and table leaves (sometimes extra tables) added in my dining room. This year, for a variety of reasons, will be our smallest Thanksgiving ever. Jim and I will spend it at home, with our youngest and oldest daughters as our only guests. To be honest, I'm kind of looking forward to the intimacy of such a low-key, low-stress gathering.
  • As far as food goes, I must say that mashed potatoes with lots of turkey gravy is one of my all-time favorite foods, and not just at Thanksgiving. But as the nest has emptied and mashing potatoes doesn't happen often around here anymore, I definitely look forward to those made at Thanksgiving.
  • In addition to the mashed potatoes, I truly love my cheesy corn casserole. And pumpkin pie. And this year I'm going to try out a new addition to the dessert selections—a cranberry-apple cobbler which will likely become a fast favorite.
  • Favorite things to do on Thanksgiving, other than eating? I particularly enjoy baking the day before. And on Thanksgiving day, I used to enjoy watching bits and pieces of the parades with my little girls. Not anymore, as my little girls are now big and no longer around at parade time. I do still love watching the performance of The Rockettes in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade—if I remember to turn on the TV in time.
  • I also love gathering around the table and giving thanks before the meal. We always say grace at dinner in my house, but I get especially verklempt when doing so on Thanksgiving. (Sheesh...I'm getting verklempt and teary just writing this.) Because every year, no matter how freakin' difficult the year has been—and let me tell ya, this last one has been a doozy beyond compare—there is so, so much I'm thankful for, so many blessings that make my life full in ways I never imagined, ways that make up for those not-so-blessed moments. I love giving thanks for those...and listening to what others around the table are thankful for, too. One good thing about this year's smaller gathering: The thank yous and amens should be completed before the food has gotten cold.
  • A new favorite: Last year, Jim and I established a Thanksgiving tradition all our own. With there typically being so many pies to choose from after Thanksgiving dinner, we decided last Thanksgiving morning that our breakfast should be the pumpkin pie I had made. I'm pretty sure pumpkin pie has never tasted sweeter. I look forward to us doing that again this year.
  • This year we'll try another new activity: going to a movie—Lincoln—after stuffing our tummies with turkey and trimmings.

Other things I love about Thanksgiving: a fire in the fireplace, delectable scents wafting through the house from early morning til late at night, the stillness of the holiday as work and worries of the everyday are put on hold.

Bottom line: I love pretty much every little thing about Thanksgiving. Well, everything except getting the leftover turkey off the bone and bagged up for leftovers.

Oh! Speaking of leftovers, I also love turkey sandwiches the next day, with lots of salt and mayo (not Miracle Whip!).

Today's question:

What are a few of your favorite Thanksgiving things?

Scoring points and breakfast in bed

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One of the things I'm really enjoying about Bubby as he gets older is the conversations we have. His conversational skills improve by leaps and bounds in between each and every visit I have with him. I love the unique expressions he uses, as well as those that make it clear he's mimicking Mommy or Daddy without really knowing what the phrases mean.

One example of the latter was when Bubby mentioned that he couldn't eat a particular food—I can't recall what food or even what the conversation involved—and told me that it wasn't a good food choice because it had "thirty-fifty-hundred points" in it. Seems Mommy's attention to points associated with food, per the Weight Watchers plan she's kept an eye on since having Mac, has left quite the impression on Bubby.

Not that our conversations always featured food, but there was another time Bubby impressed me with his conversational skills...and his memory. At breakfast one morning, Bubby took a bite of his peanut-butter toast which he'd topped with a piece of the Count Chocula cereal Gramma had bought him as a treat.

"Mmm...it tastes just like my birthday cereal," he said.

Seems one of the birthday rituals for Bubby is that he gets to choose his breakfast cereal. It's a treat because Bubby doesn't usually get to eat the sugary cereals (like the Count Chocula Gramma bought him), and he had chosen Reese's cereal for his birthday breakfast in June.

"Mommy and Daddy brought it to me in my room," he continued with the story of his birthday breakfast.

"You had breakfast in bed on your birthday?" I asked him.

"Yeah! I got to eat in my room!" he enthusiastically shared, the memory of the happy meal glimmering in his eyes.

I asked him if Mommy and Daddy stayed or if he ate alone in his room. "No! Roxy [his dog] stayed with me," he said, "but I didn't give her any food."

"That's pretty awesome," I told him.

But I didn't really think so. At least not for me. I don't like breakfast in bed. While it's supposed to be a relaxing treat—and my daughter obviously thinks so, as she treated her son to it for his birthday and he thoroughly enjoyed it—I disagree.

I happily accept meals prepared for me any time of the day, any day of the year. But I don't want to eat them in bed. Alone. For one thing, it's hard to eat in bed—even with a nifty tray Jim purchased for that one occasion. Secondly, it's lonely when it's only the one being honored nibbling on her toast and worrying about spilling her coffee in the covers, all alone, with no one to talk to (and not even room to spread out the morning paper to read while eating).

Nope...breakfast in bed is no treat for me.

But it was for Bubby. And hearing about his awesome Reese's cereal in bed that he didn't share with anyone, not even Roxy, made me smile.

As does most everything Bubby says.

Well, except for all those comments he recently made about my age. The art of polite conversation is a skill Bubby has yet to master.

I'm assuming mastering polite conversation won't be difficult for Bubby, though, as he easily picked up the complex concept of avoiding foods with a high number of points. Especially those with thirty-fifty-hundred points.

Today's question:

How do you feel about being served breakfast in bed?

Make apple butter in the crockpot? I did it!

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Inspired by this post from Mamal Diane plus a surplus of apples, I decided to make apple butter last weekend. It was much easier than I ever expected and far more delicious than store bought. It's also the most recent addition to my Recipe Box.

Enjoy! And please do let me know if you try a batch yourself.

 

 

 

 

Musings on eating, with two hands

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If not for that well-placed comma in today's post title, you just might think what follows will be all about double-fisted dining. That's not it at all. Today I'm spouting recent thoughts I've had on the contradictions related to kids and how they eat. Or don't eat.

On one hand (this is the "two hands" part), we all know about, are concerned about the frightening statistics on childhood obesity today. The issue tops the list of those addressed by our first lady, health and welfare organizations, doctors, school lunch programs. Most importantly, it's something on the minds of many a parent and grandparent.

We all want our kiddos to eat less, move more, be in better shape overall. Privately as well as publicly, we show concern that kids are exercising too little, eating too much.

That's on one hand.

On the other hand, always on the minds of mothers and grandmothers, more so than anyone, is how the heck to get our little ones to eat. Especially when it comes to toddlers. They don't seem to eat when we want them to or what we want them to.

In direct contrast to the obesity issue, there's the continual concern on the part of many a frazzled parent or grandparent that a child isn't getting enough food. There are books, magazines, websites, television programs dedicated to helping figure out how to get some food into the mouths and tummies of those tiny tots so they can grow up big and strong.

We beg, plead, cajole, bribe, sometimes even punish, all in the name of getting Junior to eat. I'm not talking about just veggies and other healthy foods. If you regularly enjoy the company of a child under the age of five, you likely know what I mean.

My oldest grandson is the very pickiest of the pickiest kids I have ever met. That darn kid doesn't like pudding...or whipped cream...or jello. He doesn't like jelly on his peanut butter sandwiches. He refuses to eat cheese quesadillas if the brown spots on the tortilla are noticeable. And he has never, ever had a hamburger—not even as part of a McDonald's Happy Mealin. Not in his entire life. Seriously. "I don't like them" is his response when asked why. How he knows that is your guess as good as mine, since he's never had so much a nibble of a burger.

Yet he does like avocados, broccoli, salmon. A kid can't live on those things alone, though. Well, they probably could...maybe...but that's not being realistic. So his mom and dad (and grandma and other caregivers, at times) spend inordinate amounts of time and energy trying to get the kid to eat. Anything. I used to think Megan was making it up. Then I spent extended time with Bubby and came away wondering—still wonder—how he manages to stay alive much less thrive.

Then there's his brother. My youngest grandson. My Mac. The happiest little eater ever. Mac dives right in, willing to experience all things edible—plus things non-edible at times, too. He even dipped into the salsa dish just like the big boys when we recently visited a Mexican restaurant. Sure, he once famously sneered and snarled at strawberries, but he gobbled them right up the very next day, so those Grandma served up just must have seemed exceptionally tart to him.

Mac enjoys food, enjoys eating. Nearly anything. Megan sent me the following photos the other night of Mac happily trying out a new recipe she had cooked up.

 

Bubby greets Mommy's new recipes with disdain; Mac delights in them, requires a big fork to to satisfy his big appetite.

On one hand there's Bubby, who refuses to eat. On the other hand there's Mac, who eats anything and everything.

On one hand there's the problem of childhood obesity and the need to get kids to eat less and better. On the other hand there's the frustration and desperation many parents face in trying to get their kids to eat anything at all.

Parenting can be a challenge, and never more so—nor more conflict-ridden—than when it comes to kids and food. The getting them to eat, but not eat too much.

Just one more reason I'm glad I'm Grandma to little ones, not Mom. I get to muse; Megan/Mom gets to wring her hands while trying to figure out how to make her kids eat—just not too much.

Today's question:

What has been your bigger challenge as a parent or grandparent: Getting kids to eat less and more healthy or getting them to eat anything at all?