Never a Dull Moment

Jan 16

S’s Swap, 1/11: Coconut Salmon, Green Beans & Wild Rice

Posted by Shalinee | THE SWAP | 2 Comments

I am very happy to start the new year with this swap menu! I made this combination of dishes twice over the holidays, once for my father and once for my brother-in-law and his wife. Both times, all three items a big hit…with kids and adult alike. Hope the J-M’s will find it as enjoyable!

Here’s what I made:

– Salmon with Coconut Sauce
– Green Beans in Fresh Tomato Sauce
– Indianized Mushroom Wild Rice Pilaf

The salmon recipe is from Bal Arneson, who is the Spice Goddess on the Cooking Channel. I usually don’t enjoy salmon made with a lot of spices but Bal’s got it spot-on…the right spices, the right blend, the right amount…the coconut sauce is just heavenly and goes so well with the salmon.

I also made the green beans using another one of Bal’s recipe. This time the modification was to eliminate the paneer, only because I didn’t have any. And I made a desi (i.e., Indian) version of wild rice pilaf. Basically, I cooked the wild rice using a bit more water (1/4 cup more than the 2 1/2 cups called for). While it was cooking, I sauteed onions, garlic and mushrooms with some ground cumin, dried fenugreek leaves, salt and pepper. Once the rice was almost done I tossed in the sauteed mushroom mixture and let the rice finish cooking.

Salmon, green beans and rice…with spice!

Jan 16

H’s Swap: Jan 11, Stacey’s Lovely Lunch (for Dinner!)

Posted by Heather | THE SWAP | 4 Comments

In the past couple of weeks, as I’ve been semi-“off”-from work (i.e., Winter Break between semesters), and totally-Nanny-less (i.e., with Meera 24×7), I’ve been doing some much needed catching-up with friends. It has been sooooo gooooood. In the craze of our dual-career-&-three-kids life the thing that unfortunately, and so sadly, often falls through the cracks is our social life. One of the many splendid things that Meera and I got the chance to do was to drive over to NJ for a morning and lunch at the Uhrig’s house (Our good friends the Uhrigs have made many appearances on our blog— here, here, and here, for just a few.). The dads were working, the big boys were all at school, and so we were able to indulge in the sweet, sweet calm-and-stillness-and-room-for-plenty-of-mommy-to-mommy-conversation that is a Meera-&-Tae-playdate. Oh my, the loveliness! Stacey made the most deliciously fabulous lunch for us and I was completely smitten with every bite of it. It warmed me heart and soul to have my friend make this special lunch for me. I decided right then and there, and told Stacey so, that I was going to get all of her recipes and make this lovely lunch for dinner for the Swap. And that is exactly what I did.

Here it all is, directly from the source, the fabulous Stacey Uhrig:

Soup – Chiarello’s Roasted Butternut Squash Soup

http://www.food.com/recipe/chiarellos-roasted-butternut-squash-soup-440035

Kale “Chips” – Food and Wine – Crispy Kale

http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/crispy-kale-with-lemon-yogurt-dip

Tuna Sandwich – Stacey’s Special

1 Can of White Tuna (no salt added / in water)
Black olives or Capers
Shallots or Red Onion
Lemon
Olive Oil
S&P
Pesto
Multi-grain roll

In bowl, mix drained tuna with chopped black olives, chopped shallots, juice of one lemon (add zest if you want a fuller flavor), and enough olive oil to make it the consistency you like. I tend to like it very lemony….Season with salt and pepper! I didn’t give measurements bc I kind of eye ball it….add as much or as little as you like…make it your own! Toast up your favorite roll (I happened to use a multi-grain baguette), slather on your favorite pesto (I had a store bought one in my house, but its awesome with home made as well)…top it with the tuna and voila! Bon Appétit!

Jan 15

Brunch with Zoe

Posted by Heather | BAMBINOS | 2 Comments

Zoe and Lori came over for brunch today (we missed you Shelli!!!). The Petsch~&~J-M families’ friendship goes way back. I just typed “Zoe” into our blog’s search box (on the right side-bar), and up popped a whole slew of memories of some of the fun times we’ve had with the Petsch Crew over the past four years. Obviously we don’t post about everything that we do on the weekends (not even close), and don’t post about every get-together with friends (not even close), but we post about these things often enough that we can see the basic trajectory of some of our family friendships, and it is pretty heart-warming to see. Anyway… back to this morning… we had such a nice time, as always. The kids went nuts playing in a frenzy of non-stop energy, we all had mimosas (what is brunch without mimosas???… kids’ made with sparkling grape juice; parents’ made with the real deal bubbly grape juice), we ate bagels and fruit salad, drank coffee, discovered that Owen and Zoe both like lox, discovered that the parents all have some sort of deep love for coconut macaroons (we ate way too many of them), and generally had a fabulous time. Basically, a perfect Saturday morning.

Jan 13

Photo of the Day: A Moment

Posted by Heather | Uncategorized | 5 Comments

This photo looks like what it is: an unedited, quick candid snapshot, with no photographic or compositional quality whatsoever. Still, I can’t help it, I’m their mother: I love it. Someone once told me that when dealing with young children you can’t look for days or even hours of “smooth/easy/good/pleasant”/however-you-define-the-GOOD. Instead, you have to hope for a moment, or a few, each day to truly be present in— a moment, or a few, when you truly can see and feel the truly good happening. When I heard this it resonated with me immediately. I actually think it can be said about dealing with any age children – or people of all ages for that matter – and I try to be mindful of that as much as I possibly can be. I know it is true, for example, in working with college-aged students. And I know it is true, for example, in living out a marriage. And so, I don’t necessarily see the world through rose-colored-glasses, rather, I work hard to not expect things to be wonderful all the time, and instead, I try to string together the good moments that fall amongst all the rest of the relatively mundane (and/or difficult and challenging) times, and cling to them. Easier said than done. But I’m learning to be better at it all the time. This blog helps. At the dinner table I grabbed the camera because this was a moment to cling to.

Jan 12

Earthquake Aftershocks

Posted by Heather | BAMBINOS | 18 Comments

One year ago today, January 12, 2010, my sons’ birthmother died. We don’t know the details. We only know the words we were told: that when that catastrophic magnitude 7.0 earthquake ripped apart Haiti, demolishing much of Port au Prince, Kyle and Owen’s birthmother “didn’t make it.”

She was one of an estimated 230,000 people who died that day. We’ve all heard the numbers— three million Haitians affected; one million made homeless; 300,000 injured; 280,000 homes and buildings collapsed. Tent cities still brimming with countless people living the unthinkable. For those of us who are not on the ground in Haiti, these numbers seem surreal. Having been to Haiti to adopt Kyle and Owen, these numbers seem especially surreal… it is hard to imagine that place any more distraught and distressed than it had already been. The aftershocks of it ripple far and wide. And the numbers don’t do it justice.

Like most of the other parents of Haitian adoptees that we know, in the weeks that followed the earthquake I was glued to CNN, Facebook, and Twitter. Because of our connection to Haiti we were tied into a complex web of social networks that gave a glimpse of what was happening in Kyle and Owen’s birthplace. The pain and suffering witnessed, second-hand, was almost more than the soul could bear. And we were not even there. As a result of that, coupled with a fierce desire to protect the boys’ privacy, when I found out that their birthmother had died, I was adamant that we keep it to ourselves. It seemed wrong, on so many levels, to talk about it publicly (my worst fear was overly exposing our children, and the potential for our story to be sensationalized; at the time, news outlets were grasping for human interest stories with Haitian-Americans and adoptive families). And so, over and over and over again, I refused to comment to the media, refused to do interviews with radio and television shows, refused to be the focus of newspaper stories, and refused to write about the full scope of the truth of our family’s own aftershocks on our blog. I still believe in my heart that was the right thing to do. And yet, it did what so often happens with monstrous catastrophes—it kept the private shocks and aftershocks just that—private.

This summer, five months after we told Kyle and Owen that their birthmother had died in the earthquake, they told me –on our way to our annual Haitian Adoptive Families Reunion— that they wanted people to know their birthmother was in heaven. They also told me that they wanted me to tell people about it, not them. They didn’t want to carry the burden of explaining it, but they didn’t want to carry the burden of people not knowing either. And so, we took all cues from them, and slowly began telling our own Haiti Earthquake Story more openly.

It seems like a day ago, and at the same time like a decade ago, (but not one year ago), that I told Kyle and Owen that a massive earthquake had struck their island. Snuggled up with them, in the warmth of my bed, with the morning light streaming through the windows, it was one of those profound moments in life where –cliché but true— time seems to stand still. I can remember so vividly their huge brown eyes staring right into mine with a million questions on both sides, and yet it also feels like a blurry hazy semi-memory. I’m glad that I wrote about it on the blog (here), because otherwise I surely would have forgotten the details. It was only because Owen was so insistent in the days that followed that I finally gave in to his urging and decided to try to find out if he and Kyle’s birthmother was o.k.

I put the word out to a trusted source in Haiti, the director of Kyle and Owen’s orphanage, telling him that that we wanted to search. All that any of us knew was that she had been living in Cite Soleil, the same place where she had birthed, in inhumanely gruesome conditions, the unbelievably healthy infants that would become my twin boys. No complex computer systems humming, no official documentation of the dead, no funerals or even proper disposal of human bodies that once gave life to others, no justice. None of that, but an on-the-ground spreading-of-word that rivals none. And it did not take long for us to hear the news. In a strange twist of fate – just another in a long series of impossible-seeming experiences that have taken place in the past six years of parenting our sons – I received the email on my iPhone while we were in New York City celebrating our 5th Adoption Day. While Haiti was suffering to the depths of which I cannot even fathom, we were on our way to see The Lion King on Broadway. I remember reading the email: “She didn’t make it.” She had died in the earthquake. I remember the feeling in my chest, like I couldn’t get a breath. I remember whispering the news in Braydon’s ear, and I remember our eyes locking in, trying to grasp the full meaning of this aftershock on our lives.

Kyle and Owen are, as much as anyone can be at age six, at peace with their birthmother’s death. That is a gift for which we are eternally grateful. We took the time we needed to figure out how to best approach it with them; we told them in a way that conveyed dignity, faith, and ever-lasting love; we’ve processed it with them for the past year; and we’ve struggled with them, wrestling with what it all means, and working through the ripple effects of the aftershocks. But ultimately it is to Kyle and Owen’s credit, and theirs alone, that they’ve weathered yet another storm – this one an earth-shaking, ground-quaking, heart-stopping one. They have, once again, amazed us with their resiliency. While this resiliency never ceases to surprise me, there is also a part of me that thinks, “of course they have handled this so well, they are Haitian through and through“… they are part of a people-hood, a Diaspora, a heritage, a legacy of sheer brilliant stunning resiliency. If there could only be one word to describe the Haitian people, including my two sons, it would be resilient.

Sitting in our house, I am watching Kyle and Owen spin their globe on its axis, around and around, as fast as they can. In typical fashion, they are screaming out loud and jumping up and down as they do it, as if it is the most exciting thing in the world. With the landscape of the earth mapped out in bright colors, Haiti seems so close. And then I look outside the window, to our snow-covered yard, with its swing-set and sandbox and swimming-pool-closed-for-winter, and Haiti seems so far away.

A year later, my heart still aches for my sons, their family of origin, the island nation and people of their roots. A year later, thinking about that earthquake still results in a lump in my throat that makes it hard to swallow. Even as they play happily on the floor right now, just a few feet from me, racing remote-control cars, I never forget from where they have come.

For a family like ours, Haiti is never far from our thoughts or hearts. For us, it is impossible to not remember. We feel the aftershocks everyday. Not just from the earthquake, but from the entire history, trauma, tragedy, and resiliency that is Haiti. I rarely ask for much on this blog, but today I ask you, if you are reading, to please REMEMBER HAITI. And if you can, please HELP HAITI. There are so many ways you can give. If you are looking for a trustworthy organization to which to send a financial contribution of any amount, please consider Heartline, Real Hope for Haiti, or Meds & Food for Kids Haiti.

Jan 12

Photo(s) of the Day: Morning Coffee and Thoughts on an Anniversary Snow Day

Posted by Heather | Uncategorized | One Comment

On the one-year anniversary of the Haiti Earthquake we woke up to a 5:30 a.m. phone call that school was cancelled. A Snow Day for Kyle and Owen. When I heard the snow was coming I hoped that school would be cancelled. I feel better keeping my boys close today. I pulled out my usual mug (we have a set of these; we use them everyday), made coffee, and looked out the kitchen window at the winter wonderland. There is a lot to do, and three kids to keep busy, but today I am not entirely here, because all I can think of is Haiti… and this:

Jan 10

“Take a Picture!”

Posted by Heather | BAMBINOS | 4 Comments

I’ve been spending a lot of time with Meera since the boys went back to school on January 3. Winter Break at Lehigh, in between semesters, is what makes this possible (I start classes again next week). As a university professor I’m unbelievably privileged to have unbelievable flexibility (an unbelievable blessing and an unbelievable curse!), which, now that I’m tenured, I am maximizing to the Nth degree. My career takes a toll, but I’ve made a conscientious decision that I’m willing to pay the cost… whatever it may be down the road. The pay-off comes right now… in the form of the dedicated time I get to spend with my bambinos. I’ve been picking up the boys from school everyday (a luxury for this working mom), and I’ve been spending 24×7 with Miss Meera Grace (a real –and I mean this— treat). To be honest, there are plenty of moments when I’m thinking to myself, “I am not cut out for this” (the at-home gig). But, also to be honest, there are plenty of moments when I’m thinking to myself, “There is no place on earth I’d rather be than right here right now.” The rest of the moments, in between loads of laundry and piles of dishes and an email inbox that is overflowing, I’m lost somewhere in between. (Or I’m daydreaming about our next vacation, but that’s another story). Anyway… Meera does a lot of interesting stuff that I could blog about. I mean, she’s 2, and 2 year olds are completely fascinating (especially to a sociologist). Amongst many other blog-worthy moments, today, at one point, as I was unloading the dishwasher and she was playing, she called out to me, “Mama! Take a picture!” I looked over and saw what you see below. I grabbed the camera and obliged her. She wanted to see the picture on the back screen of the digital camera. She loved it. Here it is:

Jan 09

J-M Holidays 2010: Epilogue

Posted by Heather | TRAVEL | 8 Comments

O.k., so I know we’ve posted a ridiculous amount re: our holidays. (I know it has been a little over the top for a blog, but please just try to keep in mind that this is our only scrapbook.) Anyway, it is over, I promise, after this. But I just have to get in this series of photos because it is just so laden with meaning and I don’t want to forget this. “Bringing in the wood” was a major part of my own childhood. MorMor and MorFar heat their house with wood, and always have (not as in a cute fire in the fireplace every once in a while on a snowy Sunday afternoon, but as in: wood heat is their primary – and really only – source of heat). They were heating with wood long before being “green” was cool and hip. This isn’t a “thing” for them, it is the real deal. And it is a huge amount of work (cutting/chopping/stacking the wood, bringing the wood into the house every day, keeping the fire going, etc., etc., etc.). Growing up, I absolutely hated the daily chore of “bringing in the wood.” As a teenager I vowed to myself that no matter what I’d never heat with wood. And to this day, while I love a nice fire in our fireplace every once in a while (as in a few times a year), and I love any camp-ish-like fire (as in s’mores), I really have no love lost for true-blue-wood-heat (and man do I love our central heating and cooling; not a day goes by that I’m not grateful for it—seriously)… I am especially glad to have the grind of “bringing in the wood” behind me. Kyle and Owen, on the other hand, love “bringing in the wood.” Whenever we go to my parents house in the winter, the boys love (love love!) helping MorFar with the wood (they love helping MorFar with anything, it just so happens that “bringing in the wood” is something that they get to do –yay for them!— every day!). This year they were actually truly helpful with it—they’re now old enough and strong enough that the two of them alone could easily get all the wood in every day. This is huge (it is huge for K & O, it is hugely helpful for my parents, and it is hugely crazy for me to watch). Also huge was that this year K & O were all about teaching Meera about “bringing in the wood” too. She was all over it (she’ll jump at any chance to follow in the footsteps of K & O… scary, scary thought). And so, I just have to post this little series of pictures – totally unedited and raw – because they really tell a story. A story that is meaningful on a lot of different levels.

And last, but not least, I have to just post the photo that we sent out as our holiday card this year. Just because it is so dang cute and I don’t want to ever forget the JOY (and yes, stress and frazzle and exhaustion too… but mostly just pure and unaltered JOY) that was parenting during the years that our kids were young. This is it my friends. This is as good as it gets. And it is good.

O.k., now I’m totally caught up. Next up, starting tomorrow, it will be back to non-holiday blogging (phew!)

Jan 06

By Request: MorMor’s Swedish Butterhorns!

Posted by Heather | FOOD | 6 Comments

by Guest Blogger MORMOR!

MorMor’s Swedish Butterhorns

It wouldn’t be Christmas without Swedish Butterhorns on Christmas morning. Because they love them so much I am always tempted to make them especially for Kyle, Owen and Braydon the minute they arrive for the holiday but I make everyone wait until Christmas morning and boy are they worth the wait! Like Heather said the kids stop opening presents when I announce they are out of the oven!!

I got this recipe from a Swedish friend’s mom Ellen Benson who lived in Manchester, CT in the early 80’s.

Part 1

1 ¼ cup hot milk

1 ½ cups butter

½ cup sugar

½ teaspoon salt

2 eggs (well beaten)

2 yeast cakes

5 cups sifted flour

10-12 cardamom seeds (crushed fine)

Melt butter in hot milk. Add sugar. When almost cool add beaten eggs. Mix flour and cardamom, salt and yeast and add. (I mix yeast in a small amount of warm milk and add to the rest of the milk – dry or regular yeast may be used).

Beat this mixture WELL – hand will get tired! (I use an electric mixer with the bread hook.) Now cover in large greased bowl (enough for rising of dough).

Put foil over and refrigerate overnight.

Part 2

In the morning remove dough from bowl and put on floured board. Do not knead. Roll into a round ball. Now divide ball into 4 parts. Roll out each part into a 9-inch circle (I use a rolling pin). Now cut circle in half – cut in quarters and cut 3-4 wedges in each quarter – as you would cut a pie. Now roll dough – fat end first and top will have a small peak. Brush with beaten egg and place on a buttered cookie sheet. Cover dough and rise 1 hour.

Bake 15-20 minutes in 350 oven. Remove Butterhorns to wire racks and spread on the topping.

Topping:

Confectioners sugar
Dash of salt
Vanilla
Water

I don’t measure topping – just get it to a spreading consistency – not very thick.

YUM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jan 05

2nd Annual New Year’s Eve With the Slavins

Posted by Heather | BAMBINOS | 5 Comments

Nothing like New Year’s Eve with your college roommate! Nothing! Luckily us two couples spent quite a few New Year’s Eve’s together before having kids, so spending New Year’s Eve together now with kids isn’t a total downer. In fact, I’ll be the first to admit it: our New Year’s Eves with the Slavins are not a downer at all, actually. Not at all. In fact, I like to think that we rock the New-Year’s-With-Kids, and we quite enjoy it very much, thank you. So, no, we don’t do Times Square (even though it is so close that it seems slightly ridiculous to watch it on t.v.), or the Wonder Bar (of our more wild and crazy New Year’s Eve’s Past), and we don’t even venture out to a family-friendly First Night (although us J-Ms have done that, before we started our tradition with the Slavins, and we loved it). But what we do now is exactly what we want to be doing: we have a good good good time with good good good friends, sipping champagne, having dinner together, laughing at our wacky kids, and helping each other keep our eyes open until that ball drops at midnight. Yes, we spend a good chunk of time reminiscing about the good ‘ole days of the New Year’s Eves of our twenties, when we rocked it out in Boston and threw/attended parties significantly different than the dinner-party-for-two-fams that has become our tradition now. Yes, times have changed. And no, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

New Year’s Eve for the J-M’s started off with a bang when – while at a Panera somewhere between our house in Pennsylvania and the Slavins’ house in Connecticut – Kyle unexpectedly lost his top left tooth while eating lunch! Kyle seems to be developing a knack for losing teeth in remote locations. (He is putting the Tooth Fairy to the test, that’s for sure.)

Once at the Slavins it took no time for the kids to get right into their groove. They act more like fun-loving-cousins than friends. And nothing could make me happier than that. This year was extra special because Anthony’s mom was visiting for the holidays from Australia, so she – the truly lovely woman that she is – joined us for all the festivities (we had only met her once before— at Jen and Anthony’s wedding— so it was so nice getting to know her more!). The fun got seriously underway on the sledding hill.

There was cocoa for the kids, champagne cocktails for the adults, and delicious dinner. In between all that there was lots of “Happy New Year!!”’s and there were lots-o-party-favors and noise-makers and a rockin’ good time.

We have absolutely no desire whatsoever to let the kids stay up until midnight. We have absolutely no problem whatsoever tucking them right in so that we have the rest of the night to ourselves. We have absolutely no hesitation in opening a few bottles of champagne and eating a whole bag of bbq potato chips and an entire pot of fondue. We have absolutely no problem with any of that! The only problem comes with the 7:00am wake-up call from the five who have absolutely no problem with a bright-and-early-New-Year’s Day. They are up-and-at-‘em because they have been waiting for a whole entire year to put on the New Year’s Day Show!!!!!… and finally the day has arrived! After much rehearsing the night before they were ready for their 2nd Annual “SHOW!” With coffee mugs in hand, their parents (and grandmother! what a trooper she is!) were ready too. This year’s “SHOW!” turned out to be a whole solid 45 minutes looooong, and was extravagant. They went way above and beyond last year’s “SHOW!” This year there were tickets, a sign, and a whole series of parts and pieces (including, but not limited to, a “Meet the Cast Intermission,” a break-dancing routine by Kyle, a dance by “the babies,” and a musical duet of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with Imogen on violin and Owen on piano). For the kids, the tradition of the “SHOW!” is what makes New Year’s Eve.

Jen, being the wise mother-wife-friend-and-roommate that she is, made an executive decision this year to implement a new tradition: The New Year’s Morning Movie. It was Pinocchio. And it was much appreciated by all involved.

Before we knew it we were back on the road to head home. And it was 2011!!!!! This year we’ll celebrate K & O’s 7th birthday, Meera’s 3rd birthday, and the 10th wedding anniversary of Braydon and I! Onward and upward! Happy New Year!

Jan 03

Christmas Morning 2010

Posted by Braydon | TRAVEL | 2 Comments

Jan 03

J-M Family Christmas 2010, Part 3 of 3

Posted by Heather | TRAVEL | 7 Comments

Part 3: Christmas at MorMor and MorFar’s

Our last day of school/work was Friday, December 17. That entire week was absolutely over-the-edge with Braydon working round-the-clock on a big project, me trying to wrap up the fall semester & plan/pack/prepare for a major trip for a family of five & do everything Christmas (i.e., presents for everyone near and far, etc., etc., etc.). The three bambinos were bouncing off the walls in anticipation of all-that-is-Christmas. It was not pretty and I am not ashamed to admit that I melted down with ugly crying fits on more than one occasion (including, for example, the cop incident). It was hard to imagine I’d be feeling any “Joy to the World,” but – as I do every Christmas – I took the leap of faith that the ten hour drive up north would put some distance between me and my pain-and-suffering and it would be all worth it. We hit the road very early Saturday morning with our car jam-packed-crammed floor-to-ceiling and Braydon and I running on less than a few hours of sleep. While the bambinos watched The Polar Express and ate donuts in the backseat, Mommy and Papi drank coffee and tried to deconstruct the fast-paced-blur of the past month of our lives.

We headed first for Massachusetts where we had a lunch and Christmastime visit with Braydon’s mom/Gamma, Aunt Diana, and Uncle Guy. It was good to connect and spend time with them. From there we got back on the road and zipped it straight to Portland, Maine for our Christmas kick-off treat to ourselves: a night at a splendid hotel with an indoor pool and scrumptious room service. Honestly, it was just what we J-Ms needed to re-orient and put us in the right frame of mind.

Sunday the 19th the family festivities began when we all met up for what has become our traditional lunch in Portland at Gilbert’s Chowder House. Cheers all around!

And then we were all off to Portland’s Symphony Hall for one of our steadfast traditions: the Magic of Christmas Concert by the Portland Symphony Orchestra. And get this: This year was our THIRTIETH YEAR of going to this concert! 30th. Seriously!

After the concert we J-M’s headed to MorMor and MorFar’s house. Where we found… Christmas at MorMor and MorFar’s. We were disappointed that there was no snow on the ground, but there is still something totally magical about Christmastime at MorMor and MorFar’s house –inside and out— snow, or no snow.

MorMor made seven different kinds of Christmas Cookies this year. Each a unique and time-consuming craft unto itself. And it didn’t take long for everyone to claim their favorites… including Meera, who this year was all about the Spritz. She quickly learned where to find the cookie tins, which tins contained Spritz, and how to carry them to MorMor to open for her. Really, I have to say it: so darn cute!!!

Braydon went home for Monday-Tuesday for work commitments. Truly, that was a big “low” for us (Braydon having to go). But we spent those days settling in, skating, letting MorMor and MorFar spoil us, and (me) catching up on sleep. It turned out that there was actually something really nice about having a couple of days to just sort of be, to chill, to unwind before the real wind-up to Christmas began. Once Braydon came back the ball really got rolling with our trip to Bretton Woods, and then the arrival of Auntie Stina, Sadie, and Mark.

After a day of skiing at King Pine on Thursday, we had a private concert/workshop with a master didgeridoo player! It was very interesting. Turns out that K & O are pretty good at playing the didgeridoo. I couldn’t make a sound come out of it to save my life. Anyway… totally random, and totally fun, and totally set up by my parents (something only they would do— the masters of “mandatory fun”).

Christmas Eve Day brought the traditional hot dog and marshmallow roast. This has become such a part of our Christmas.

Then late that afternoon, the Letter To Santa (to be left for him later that night with the milk and cookies).

And then it was everyone-get-dressed-for-church and pose-by-the-Christmas-tree. Some traditions we just follow, even though none of us enjoy them. But I was determined to get a photo for my parents— it seems like the least we can do!— and so I once again made the kids do it despite their at-times active resistance. (You should see the 50-or-so outtakes it took to get this one photo!)

Then the centerpiece of Christmas Eve (and of Christmas, really): the Swedish Smorgasbord. MorMor spends weeks preparing this spread. It is unbelievable to me, really. I simply cannot imagine myself ever (ever!) being capable of pulling this off (although, frankly, if it wins over whatever future sons-in-laws I may have, perhaps I might will myself to do it – check out the way Braydon is loving on my mother in the photo below!). But she does it, and by doing it she passes something really meaningful about our heritage to the next generation. And it does not matter to her one bit that two of her four grandchildren have no Swedish blood whatsoever. (And it doesn’t seem to matter to them either—they eat smorgasbord like the good little grandsons of a Swedish MorMor that they are.) It was a true thrill to MorMor that this year Owen loved the sill (pickled herring) made by family friends. He even pushed away a plate of cake to eat sill instead. And called the family who had made it to pay his compliments. Totally interesting SIDENOTE to anyone who might be reading who is deeply ethnically Swedish with black adopted kids in their family (are there any such people other than us???): the sill that Owen loved came from a sill recipe from Marcus Samuelsson! I have now become completely fascinated with Marcus Samuelsson and his entire life story… but that is another story. Back to Christmas—

I just had to put this photo in here because I absolutely love it and I think it might be one of my top ten favorites of all time. Kyle reading the Christmas Story to Meera on Christmas Eve before heading to church:

Christmas Eve Service at The Freedom Church. Tradition, for us, with a capital “T.” Longtime blog readers will remember that K & O have been angels in the pageant ever since the year they were two. Despite the fact that all of the other boys are shepherds and sheep, K & O still choose to be angels (a gender-bending fact that I’m pretty proud of, actually). Meera, of course, just wants to be what K & O are going to be, so she’s an angel too. This year there we no outrageously hilarious incidents, which really says something about how far we’ve come and how much our boys are mellowing out. And so, without the crazy-funny stuff to laugh at, I was left with the space to really notice everything else that was going on right around me.

And there we were, on Christmas Eve, in the church I’ve always gone to on that night, with my three children around me, in the same exact costumes that I wore on Christmas Eve when I was their age. And suddenly, it was all clear to me: it is all worth it. And in that precise silent moment of that awesome realization and revelation, there was my husband kneeling down with our camera pointed right at me. And I knew, more than ever, that it is all good. Because how else could you explain that my soul-mate would have suddenly been moved to snap that shot right then and there? I won’t go on and on about it, I’ll just say that this photo (below) says a thousand words:

And this one says just shy of a thousand:

And this one too:

And so, with Christmas Eve contentment, we headed back to MorMor and MorFar’s for the annual reading of The Night Before Christmas.

Christmas morning was, as it is in the best of times, a flurry of that special only-once-per-year-kind-of-excitement. The sun barely coming up, the kids bursting at the seems, and the house overflowing.

There was something extra special about Meera this year. A two year old on Christmas morning is a precious thing.

You should have seen the looks on her face as she saw herself in the mirror with her “Tiana dress and Tiana doll FROM SANTA!” Here is just one of them:

Dreams do come true! Santa also left letters for K & O telling them that a drum-set and bow-and-arrow were waiting for them at home (photos taken after we got home).

And other dreams come true too!… Owen had been waiting for MorMor’s Christmas Morning Swedish Butterhorns all year long. He has no problem taking a break amidst present-opening for the butterhorns to be made (this year my mother made a total of three batches, and made a note to herself to make four batches next year… she confessed to me that in her Christmas cooking/baking this year she had used over 11 pounds of butter and at least 5 dozen eggs and she has no idea how she’ll manage it when the boys are sixteen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

Christmas Day and the day after brought some serious fun and relaxation. (Big “high”: the boys’ present from MorMor and MorFar this year was a foosball table!) With all the wind-up over, it was all wind-down, which is all good.

And we did not complain when we had to stay an extra day because a blizzard hit. We drank a few more of MorFar’s incredible pomegranate martinis, and were just so thankful to have a belated White Christmas!

An extra day to play…

The chance to help with snow removal (major “high” for the boys—all three of them!)…

And the perfect ending to a truly God Jul.

We headed home on Tuesday, with a sweet stop in Worcester on the way to visit Grandpa Les.

Our trip was 11 days long. That’s a long time away from home for a family with young kids. There are highs and lows all mixed up together, but the highs way outweigh the lows. And so, we left MorMor and MorFar’s house/New Hampshire/New England (for some reason, for us, passing over the Tappan Zee bridge is always a symbolic reminder that we live in a whole other part of the world) knowing that –as long as we’re lucky enough to be able to— we’ll do it all again next year. And it will all – somehow, someway – be worth it. (A big huge thank you to MorMor and MorFar!)

Jan 03

Skiing 2010

Posted by Braydon | TRAVEL | No Comments

Jan 02

J-M Family Christmas 2010, Part 1 of 3

Posted by Heather | TRAVEL | 4 Comments

This is a story. Not The Christmas Story, but our Christmas Story. We are blessed beyond belief that this continues to be a Christmas story that centers on two very happy boys and a very happy girl. It is a story of traditions passed down, and traditions in the making. It is a story of love, and fun, and learning. It is a story that has been told and re-told, and it is a story in the making. It is a story worth documenting, or, at least, trying to document in bits and pieces. And so I try to capture the essence of it as best I can. Knowing that it is just a small fraction, from just my own perspective, but knowing too that it is real.

The J-M Family Christmas has come to be a story in two parts. In large part, our Christmas is a trip— a trip to New Hampshire; a trip to MorMor and MorFar’s house; a trip to the Northern New England where Mommy grew up. As opposed to our New Hampshire summer trip of waterskiing and boating, this New Hampshire Christmastime trip is filled with snow and ice and skis and skates, pink cheeks and frosty mountain air. It is also a story of our Christmas— the things we do; the traditions we revere; the Swedish God Jul being handed down; the creation, and celebration, of an important holiday that anchors our year. This part of the story is of the deep history on the Johnson side of the family, of 2nd-generation-angels in pageants at the Freedom Church on Christmas eve, of wide-eyed-believing and wishes-come-true on Christmas morning, of Swedish sill and Swedish meatballs and Swedish butterhorns. Both parts of the story are, entwined together, what has become our J-M Family Christmas.

It is not all peaches and roses. It is not all snowy-white-wreaths and ear-to-ear frosty-breath smiles either. But the good parts are what our camera captures. Because that is what we purposefully focus our lens on. It doesn’t mean we don’t see the parts of the landscape that aren’t so gorgeous. We do. But we turn ourselves, whenever possible, to that glorious white-capped mountain view instead. And we put our hands on our kids’ shoulders and gently turn them in that direction too. Because with only one life to live, with only one Christmas when our kids are six and two, why on earth would we do anything else? And so, the J-M Family Christmas Story gets told in a particular fashion: admittedly, in a way that downplays the 2-year-old’s tantrums and the 6-year-old who pushed me to tears with his relentless pushing-of-all-boundaries, and the gory details of how the other 6-year-old threw up in MorMor’s toilet on the day before Christmas Eve. I could write about all that, but I don’t. I could also write about 100 blog posts on how much work it takes, on my part, to pull off this trip; on how Braydon and I fight each year over the imbalance in the workload; on the dysfunctional and sometimes ridiculously dramatic family dynamics that crop up each year around the holidays. Yes, I could write all that. But I don’t. Because at the end of the day, I am fortunate to say, for us the good far outweighs the bad. The story is, ultimately, a good and happy story. The life we’re living out is way too awesome to downplay. And so, we capture the good stuff and let the rest sift out. Because that is how we choose to live year-round, and Christmastime is no different.

For us J-Ms, the glass is half full. And when you’re at MorMor and MorFar’s house at Christmastime, your glass is always at least half full – literally and figuratively. There seemed to be an endless flow of eggnog and glogg and Pellegrino and pomegranate martinis this year. And that is something to celebrate!

And so, this is our 2010 Christmas Story in three parts— Part 1: The High of our Trip— Part 2: Snow and Ice and Other Things Nice (That’s What Our Winter Trip to New Hampshire is Made of)— Part 3: Christmas at MorMor and MorFar’s.

***

J-M Family Christmas, Part 1: The High of our Trip

Kyle and Owen learned to ski the Christmas that they were three years old. That made this year their fourth year skiing. It is their favorite part of our Christmas. They rank Christmastime skiing above all other aspects of Christmas, including presents, Santa, and everything else. We’ve always gone to King Pine each year (it is only five minutes down the road from my parents’ house, and perfect for little kids/families), but this year we decided to take it up a notch (a few notches actually!), and take the boys to Bretton Woods. This is (we truly believe), the crème de le crème of New England skiing. My parents graciously took Meera for a day so that the four of us could devote an entire day to skiing untied-down. We savored every single second and it turned out to be the “high” of the entire Christmas for every single one of us. Bretton Woods is a 90 minute drive north of my parents’ house. We got up early and hit the road. The drive, alone, would have been worth the trip. Seriously. It has to be one of the most scenic drives imaginable. And the skiing was unbelievable. A couple feet of base, and fresh powder everywhere. We even ate a fabulous lunch in the mountain-top restaurant (the boys got such a kick out of eating in a restaurant that you can only get to on skis and by chairlift!). And the exquisite beauty of it all~~~ Everywhere you turned it looked like a dream. It felt like we were skiing a fairy tale. It couldn’t possibly have been any better. (And, bonus!, there were no broken bones this year!!!) At the end of the day we met up with MorMor, MorFar, and Meera for dinner at Red Parka Pub (an old family favorite) on our way home. We got there to find a beaming Meera who had very much enjoyed her day of one-on-one time with MorMor and MorFar. It was really a highlight-of-our-year-day for all of the J-Ms. Both Braydon and I agreed it was each of our top skiing day ever (like, ever! individually, in each of our lives!). And for the boys it opened the door to a whole new chapter of skiing. A chapter that they wish they could read over and over and over again. And so, our day at Bretton Woods (although we only had our cell phone cameras with us) deserves a little set of photos unto itself: