Google it

So here we are, watching the Christmas special "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" on TV. The kids are watching intently, trying to figure out exactly how all this happened. Finally Marin says "Daddy, Google where did Santa come from".

American History Museum

We all went to DC for Thanksgiving. Like any family with kids knows, you have to get a hotel with a pool in it. So there are the kids in the pool, making friends with another little girl about Marin's age. You just never know where these new friendships are going to go.

Marin: Where are you from?
Friend: Georgia. Where are you from?
Marin: Ethiopia.
Friend: What? Is that in Africa?
Marin: (encouraged) Yes!
Friend: Wow, you are so lucky you got out of there. If you lived there a few years ago you would have been a slave!
Marin: What?
Friend: You know, a slave. Where white people beat you and make you work and buy you and sell you and you can't go to school or have friends or anything
Friends Mom (as alarmed as I am and trying to recover) No sweetheart, that was a long time ago and it doesn't happen anymore. Your new friend has nothing to worry about.


We spend the next three days reassuring Marin that she will not become a slave.

This is my house??

Over the weekend Marin and I were enjoying a quiet breakfast. She had this peaceful, confortable, satisfied expression on her face. I asked her what she was thinking about.

Marin: I can't believe this is really my house.
Me: What do you mean?
Marin: I just can't believe it.
Me: I still don't know what you mean.
Marin: It is so different from my house in Ethiopia.
Me: Tell me about your house in Ethiopia
Marin: It was like a three little pigs house made from pieces of wood and grass and leaves
Me: What else do you remember?
Marin: It had a hole for a door. Not a door that you can close or lock. Just a hole in the wall that you can walk through. And it had windows. Not with glass or curtains, but a hole in the wall so the air and the light can come in.
Me: Do you remember anything else?
Marin: It was pretty tall inside. I could not reach the ceiling. Sometimes it was really quiet and peaceful. Other times it was really noisy, like when the chickens and the goats wanted to come inside.
Me: Do you remember anything else?
Marin: I remember the smell. Our house today always smells clean like the stuff under the sink. My other house smelled like outside. Mostly dusty and like grass, and sometimes like smoke if the Mamas were cooking.
Me: Do you miss your other house?
Marin: No. I like this house. But I hope I can see my other house again some day.

Amharican Chop Suey

OK, I invented this myself, so I'm pretty psyched about it.

In the grocery store I saw a box of german dumplings (spaetzel) and it had a photo of beef stroganoff on it. That was one of my Mom's best home made dishes when I was a kid and it brought back a flood of memories, so I bought the spaetzel.

I get home, and remember no one else in my family likes sour cream, or gravy, or mushrooms - three important ingredients in stroganoff. Now what? Ta da! Amharican Chop Suey!!

1. Boil the spaetzel per directions on the package until plump and tender. Then drain.
2. Add about 1 lb of cooked meat (ground beef, or ground turkey, or ground pork, or shaved steak (like in a cheesesteak sandwich)) I used shaved steak.
3. Add one or two cans of spicy tomatoes. I used Hunts chili ready tomatoes.
4. Add spices. I used a little cumin and a little berbere.
5. Toss ingredients until blended thoroughly.
6. Serve piping hot in a big deep pasta bowl.

For vegetarian use peas, green beans, carrots, eggplant, zucini, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, tofu, etc instead of meat.

DEEEEEEELISH!!!!

Tool time

Obviously, the kids are spending a lot of time with their handyman grandfather and homebuilder Uncle David. Yesterday the kids were in the yard pounding a couple of pieces of wood with a couple of different rocks.

Me: What are you doing?
Them: Building a strong fairy house.
Me: Strong?
Them: You know, so it won't blow down in the winter.
Marin to Emmy: Get me that special rock.
(Emmy hands Marin a rock)
Marin: No. That's a regular rock. I need a Phillips rock.

Cheater

I was away on business recently and called the kids around bedtime to say goodnight. Emmy was very curious about where I was and what I was doing.

Emmy: Where are you?

Me: In Chicago in my hotel

Emmy: No, exactly where are you? Are you in your bed?

Me: Yes

Emmy: Is you bed bigger than Mama's bed?

Me: Yes

Emmy: Who is with you?

Me: Karen.

Emmy: Do I know her?

Me: No

Emmy: She's with you in Chicago?

Me: Yes.

Emmy: In the same hotel?

Me: Yes

Emmy: (in a hushed secretive tone) Daddy. Does Mama know about this?

Me: Emmy. It's a business trip. Karen is about business.

Emmy: Oh. Goodness. I though you and Mama broked up and you forgot to tell Mama.

This is the job of a parent

We are spending this week with a family that recently adopted a wheelchair bound child. Great kid, great attitude, great family. The reason for my post is the way the Mom handles well intentioned people.

For example, I found myself wanting to help this kid at every turn. You know, wheel him around, lift him, get him water, whatever. His Mom was constantly reprimanding me (and others) to let him do it himself.

Finally, I gave her this exasperated look. Whereupon she oulled me aside and gave me 'the talk'.

"Listen, I know you mean well. But someday I won't be here to fend for him. My most important job is to prepare him for that day. That means teaching him how to do things for himself and then giving him the room to do it for himself so he can gain confidence and become a problem solver. I know it is hard to watch. I am always catching myself about to jump up and help him. But, trust me on this, every time you do something for him that he can do himself or should be able to do himself, then you are destroying his future. And I know you would not want to be complicit in destroying his future."

Wow. That is one smart parent. When you look at the thousands of spoiled brats walking around today, don't you wish they had a mother like this mother?