{Table Talk, Christmas Style}

Last night as we sat around the dinner table, something in my foggy brain snapped and I realized that Jamie and I had become too distracted by our own thoughts to see what was happening. The children had stealthily taken over the conversation which quickly turned into much loudness and rudeness which in turn made my head throb. I don't mind lively children. I do, however, mind lively children who absently drag their hair through the soup or land their elbows in the butter because the level of activity has gotten way out of hand.

It was time to switch gears. We often rely on a "question of the day" when we need to guide the conversation around the dinner table. Because it's the Christmas season, I offered a couple of easy-peasy questions to get the banter headed in a more civilized direction. Each person took turns sharing their favorite:

Christmas song
Christmas treat
Christmas movie

I tried not to frown when Aidan contributed "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer," and Jamie tried not to frown when I called Meet Me in St. Louis a "Christmas" movie (I chose White Christmas instead). But overall it was a merry ending to what could have been a rather volatile evening.

We were even calm enough by bedtime to quietly light the candles for our Jesse Tree devotions. (And by "quietly" I mean that Little Miss didn't shout as she read the Word of God, she just bellowed.)


One of the Family by Frederich Cotman, 1880

{Week's End: Feet, Fondu, and Filing}

About the feet:
Yesterday morning, as I was curled up in an unusual Pilates position, I had ample time to observe my feet. Specifically, my heels. (I probably should have been focusing on my core, but that might have been the moment when the dog attacked my face and I got a bit side-tracked.)

So anyway, as I was foot-gazing, I was amazed that my little heels were handling this winter weather so well. They aren't dry and cracked as they frequently can be during this time of year. How is this possible? I'll tell you.

With regular pedicures being quite out of the question, I started my own simple little foot regimen a few years ago that has proved to be quite successful. And it only requires two things of me:

1. I keep a pumice stone in the shower and regularly give my heels a little scrub.

2. Before hopping into bed, I lather 'em up with a nice, thick coat of Neutrogena hand or foot cream.

That's it! It's so very simple, and it really makes a difference. Just a little recommendation for you, should you find yourself twisted into a position in which your feet meet your face and it proves to be rather discouraging.

About the fondu:
My parents are hosting the boys this weekend for a little cousins "retreat." I know they're having a blast. (And I know they're in great hands. My mom opened the front door to receive them with a whistle around her neck and the camp schedule posted on the door.)

Naturally, we decided to have our own little party at home last night. With cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. (Aidan is allergic to dairy, so we don't typically serve a large pot of cheese to the family.)

While I was dropping the boys off at Camp Into the Vortex, Jamie and the girls whipped up a delicious fondu spread. We had a delightful dinner, stabbing breads and meats and veggies and dunking them into the cheesy deliciousness. We watched Meet Me in St. Louis, and for the most part the girls were able to stab and watch simultaneously.

Things took an unexpected turn when Avery tried to dance to "The Boy Next Door." Her foot somehow landed in her sparkling marionberry drink, dumping its contents all over the table. Thankfully she wasn't wielding a fondu fork. We hastily mopped it up and resumed stabbing.


About the filing:
I found an idea that I think might work well for the stack of papers that is looming on my kitchen counter. As I continue to sort through my kitchen cabinets and drawers this month, I'm very aware that there's still a pile in the corner, just waiting for me. It's like a little imp mischievously whispering, "I'm still here! Ha! Thought you could ignore me, huh?"

I really didn't know how I was going to handle the mess, but this system over at Simple Mom just might be the ticket. April Perry writes about "Clearing the 'Counter Pile' with a Tickler File." It took me a minute to figure out the flow of the system, but I think I just might get me some cute little folders and give it a try.

So that's what I'm thinking about today. Feet, fondu and filing. Which is very convenient. I've always been fond of alliteration.

Do you have a filing system that works well for you? Any thoughts or recommendations?

Fall Haiku

Bethie has been reading Little Women this month. I'm thrilled to my absolute very core. It's one of my most favorite books, and I'm delighted that she's loving it too.

Now, to read Little Women is to become a Little Woman. It's impossible to hear about the antics of the March sisters without taking part. This means that Bethie is currently working on a play (to be performed on Thanksgiving) and producing a family newspaper (complete with contributors named Snodgrass and Pickwick).

Did I mention this thrills me to my very core?

Tonight at dinner, Bethie suggested that anyone in the family could contribute to the newspaper. Submissions are welcome! We thought a theme might be nice to give writers a bit of a framework. So we went with the most obvious theme: Fall. Which, naturally, led me to blurt out, "I know! Fall Haiku!"

We sat around the table, each attempting to compose our own Fall Haiku poems. (I still can't believe that Jamie is able to flawlessly compose Haiku without counting on his fingers. But it's true. He can.)

So far, Jamie, Aidan and I are the only ones who've submitted Fall Haiku for the paper. See if you can guess whose is whose. I know it will be a challenge.

Submission #1:
Autumn is now here
Dad is very sad today
Make it go away

Submission #2:
Fall is here today
They are potato chip leaves
Autumn, autumn, yeah!

Submission #3:
Scarlet, amber, drift
silently, carpet the earth
With their vibrant hues.

And I just stumbled upon this unfortunate contribution:

You are super gross
You like to burp and toot, too,
So I don't like you.

Although I'm somewhat heartened to see the 5-7-5 in tact throughout this piece, I do have some investigating to do.

Do you have a Fall Haiku to contribute? If so, please share! It's sure to land in a very distinguished column alongside Snodgrass' riveting (though somewhat plagiarized) tale, "The Masked Marriage."

P.S. But the real question in this: Can you Haiku without counting on your fingers?

Viking Bottoms

Jamie and I were tired. It required all of our energy just to put fork to plate to mouth. As a result, we involuntarily let the children rule the table. The conversation spiraled at an alarming rate. Bathroom jokes, rude noises, selfish boasts. It was getting ugly. We snapped to. Energy or not, some things -- dinner conversation among them -- require daily guidance and training. They can't be allowed to run rampant.

Jamie and I eyed each other and took the reins once again. "I know!" I suggested. "Let's all share something new we learned today. We'll start with the youngest." Avery's eye gleamed, and each child squirmed eagerly for his or her turn. The lively banter continued, still focusing on and honoring the children, but strategically guided by the parents.

We were quite entertained by Avery's retelling of our history lesson. She had been very much impressed when learning that Viking boats had flat bottoms. (The word "bottom" is irresistible to this wayward child.) Aidan snickered, but added the reasons as to why this feature was advantageous to the Norsemen. Drew and Bethie, in turn, shared the details that stood out vividly in their minds, and we were all soon engaged in an animated discussion about this chapter in history.

We've had this insipid banter problem arise many times in the past. Jamie's solution is frequently a "Question of the Day." Someone comes up with a question for everyone to answer, such as, "If you could go anywhere in the world . . . " or "If you could meet someone from the past . . . ." Again, the conversation is always very lively, but because it is guided by the parent, the words are uplifting and mind-enriching.

Although it can be draining and just one more task in my long day, I know it's so worth it for me to keep a level head at the dinner table. It's an ideal opportunity to help my children practice life skills such as patiently listening to one another, asking thoughtful questions, and sharing wholesome pieces of information. Well, wholesome most of the time. I suppose there's always a chance we'll encounter those Viking bottoms again. Especially if Miss Kate has the floor.

Winter Menu

I know you probably don't want to read a post that has the word "winter" in the title. I'm sorry if I've scared you away -- but don't worry. It's more about the "menu" than the "winter." It just had a nice ring to it.

I also don't want to mislead you with the whole food idea. This is not a food blog -- that is my amazing sister's area of expertise. But I like to organize things. Including food. So here it goes.

I've finally discovered a menu plan that is working well for our family of six. I thought I'd pass it along to any other frazzled kitchen mamas out there who are tired of resorting to cold cereal for dinner (not that there's anything wrong with that . . . ).

Here's the plan:

I schedule three meals for the week. The first is soup (which I double), such as this super-yummy Ham and Potato Soup, this delicious Italian Sausage Soup or this scrumptious Chicken Tortilla Soup. We have it for dinner on Monday and then for lunch during the rest of the week. I can't believe how much time is saved at lunch! I set out the crockpot after breakfast, add Monday's soup, and by noon our lunch is ready. No prep and no scorched pots from failed reheating. It's heavenly.

On Tuesday I double a sandwich-ey or taco-ey type recipe so that on Wednesday (which is our crazy day) Drew has something quick to grab before heading out to youth group and I don't have to worry about pulling together a full dinner. Sometimes I'll begin with a roast on Tuesday (this one was amazing) and then it morphs into French dip on Wednesday (with tater tots, of course. We in the Lawson home are quite fond of tater tots. I tell you I was in raptures when Trader Joe's started to carry them.) This BBQ Pork sandwich recipe is also dee-lish.

That leaves Thursday and Friday. This is where I put the casserole dishes that take a bit more prep time, since my Thursdays are less hectic. So the lasagna, chicken tetrazzini, spaghetti, or meatloaf might end up on the menu toward the end of the week. Most of the recipes are doubled, leaving plenty of leftovers for the weekend. Sometimes that means a few of us have the spaghetti and the others might have the meatloaf, but nothing is wasted and I've found that doubling three recipes is usually more economical than adding a fourth.

I keep a master of family favorites on the computer so that when it comes time to make my menu I can easily pull from the list. Knowing what's for dinner eases up the day considerably. It's happy for the kids, it's happy for the daddy, and it's super happy for the mama. Because we all know that as soon as those lunch dishes are put away, someone is immediately going to ask, "Mommy? What's for dinner?!"


"One of the Family" by Frederich Cotman, 1880

{The Dinner Helper -- It Works!}

Every once in a while I stumble upon an idea that helps me maintain that home rhythm that we moms so desperately try to cultivate. My most recent breakthrough is "The Dinner Helper."

First, though, some background. For several years I've used the "helper" system after learning about it from my friend, Darlene. Each child is assigned a day until all the days are taken. (Drew takes Monday and Thursday, Bethie has Tuesday and Friday, while Aidan has Wednesday and Saturday. Little Miss Avery Kate still resides loftily over the Sunday slot. No one has commented yet on the unfairness of this.)

On the child's "day," he is given all of the miscellaneous responsibilities that come up, such as setting the table for dinner or taking out the trash. Not only does this child have the day's responsibilities, however. They are also blessed with the simple privileges that brighten a kid's day, such as choosing the radio station in the car, running an errand with Dad or eating from . . . The Orange Plate. (Hey -- The Orange Plate is a coveted item in our home!).

So anyway, we've used this system successfully for a number of years and tailored it as the kids have gotten older. One of the helper duties we've always used is dinner detail. I was finding, however, that the "helping" wasn't necessarily always . . . helpful. Dinnertime is somewhat frenzied anyway -- pulling together last minute ingredients, fielding questions from the other room, feeling tired and hungry, etc. So I felt even more frazzled when I had to list off all of the things I needed my helper to do. I can multitask, but I'm not Wonder Woman. (I used to think I was, though. You see, my sister and I had these awesome Underoos . . . .)

Instead of freaking out, desperate Normal Woman devised a new plan. I call it, The Dinner Helper Checklist.

This really works, folks! I have posted a chart on the fridge with a very detailed list of Dinner Helper tasks. My helper walks up to the chart, reads what they need to do and they do it. While they're setting the table, I can focus on the soup or the muffins or the salad. I don't need to think or shout out orders. Our responsibilities merge so nicely that dinner gets to the table in a much more pleasant and efficient manner.

Here's a peek at our list:

1. Clear off the table.
2. Fill 6 glasses with fresh water.
3. Make sure each chair has a napkin.*
4. Place 6 forks/spoons at each seat.
5. Ask Mom about condiments.**
6. Help Mom bring plates to the table.
7. Ring the dinner bell!

*I use cloth napkins that the kids can tie around the chair rails.
**This includes all the extras, like salad dressing, sour cream, Parmesan cheese, etc.

I've noticed that giving specific details really helps. (I'm not sure why they have a hard time remembering that there are six of us, but Jamie and I actually get water now that I've posted the number.) I'm thinking I'll also post a diagram of a place setting so they remember where everything goes.


Emily Post's Basic Place Setting

The older ones often help with actual dinner prep, too, which is a lifesaver. Everyone's favorite part, of course, is number seven: ringing the bell.

After dinner, my helper looks at the second list. (All family members are supposed to clear their own place settings, but I've included that as number one in case someone forgets or gets sidetracked. Someone like, oh, say, Little Miss Avery Kate. Or . . . Mom. Yes, it happens.)

1. Clear away plates and utensils.
2. Clear away and rinse glasses.***
3. Put lids on condiments, condiments in fridge.
4. Tie napkins on chairs.
5. Wipe table with dishcloth.
6. Sweep the floor.
7. Push in chairs.

***We keep the kids' glasses in a row on the counter during the day to cut back on extra dishes. They use various jars, all different heights, so they know that the tallest is Drew's and the shortest is Avery's. After meals I ask them to rinse their glasses and put them back on the counter. I pop them into the dishwasher after everyone's in bed.

I've found that not only does this system help my children contribute to the family and develop responsibility, but it also keeps me on track. If they're on number six and ready to bring food to the table, my goal is to have the plates dished up and ready to pass off by that point. It also gives me a sense of shared accomplishment and camaraderie with my child. We can look together at our work and say, "Hey! We did it!"