If you give preschoolers some dough...

Mini-man and baby girl and I had fun with clay this week. The fun didn't, ahem, last as long as I thought it might keep their little hands and minds occupied, but it was a hit. We like to be creative and I've grown to accept over the years that along with creativity and children comes, well, mess. Of varying degrees and intensity depending who is at the table and how closely Mumma is supervising.

Our clay recipe required double and a bit more than the published amount of flour. Once we got the amounts sorted out, the clay was lovely to shape and play with.

I got busy tidying up the kitchen as they worked and baby girl said she was hungry. When I heard the cupboard door I assumed (silly me) she was grabbing a cracker. And completely engrossed in trying to clean the veggie bins of my fridge, I neglected to actually check what she was doing. Turns out she liked adding more flour to the clay mixture so much that she helped herself to some more flour and happily worked on her clay with extra flour sprinkled liberally all over the table, her (black) chair, the floor, the dog.... Oh, my. So the activity I thought would keep the terrific two busy for at least an hour kept them completely entranced for a total of maybe 20 minutes. The flour fallout due to my lack of attention kept me busy for ages and two chairs at the table still need more scrubbing to rid them of pasty flour residue.

If you want to try this modeling clay, the recipe (with modified flour amount) makes a nice plain white/grey clay that the little ones can shape into items to then bake and paint. We haven't made it as far as baking and painting yet because twice now my little sculpturing dynamos have breezed through making beads, snakes, and gee-gaws only to decide it was as delightful to then smoosh them all into a giant pancake. So our clay is safely in a tupperware at the moment, awaiting a third incarnation into whatever strikes the fancy of the little people hereabouts.

Plain Salt Clay

Ingredients:
1 cup salt
4-5 cups flour
1 1/2 cups water
1 tbsp oil

What to do:
1. Mix the salt, flour, water, and oil. Knead until it forms nice, smooth clay. If it seems too sticky, keep adding flour until it is soft and doughy.

2. Take your shaped clay creations and put them on a baking tray. Bake in the oven at 200 degrees Farenheit (90 degrees Celcius) for one hour or until hardened. Cool.

3. Paint and decorate your creations.

Shrove Tuesday (or PANCAKE day)

Growing up in Canada we always observed Shrove Tuesday - both the Catholic family members and the Protestant. (We're a mixed bunch on both sides - remember the Irish Rovers song "The Orange and the Green"???? That was kind of like us. My Grandma on my Dad's side always despaired that I was being raised Catholic!)

As a Catholic girl and military brat, I attended the DND school on base and not a Catholic school. We had nuns who came to our military school to take the Catholic children and teach us Catechism while the Protestants had their religion class. Every year we enjoyed pancakes in the school library on the day before Lent started. Pancakes and syrup are my association with the day before Ash Wednesday, known to many elsewhere as Mardi Gras. I guess we're a little milder in our idea of a pre-Lenten party and feast than our southern neighbours!

The older boys were extremely excited about today. They're having a pancake lunch at their parochial school and are totally and utterly psyched to have pancakes for dinner. My husband bought some lovely bacon to give us some protein with our sugar and carb overload.

I'm about to get the batter ready for tonight's dinner. I always use an old family recipe for a nice, light pancake. It was my Great-Grandma's recipe from Lancashire, England. I guess it was considered special in the late 1800s and early 1900s because it uses a lot of baking powder.

I'm making a quadruple batch of this pancake batter (seriously) and wondering exactly how long it will take me to make a gazillion pancakes. And how much batter I'll have to prepare when they're teenagers!!!!

We've been reading the Little House series every night and the boys loved Farmer Boy, of course. Now we're on The Long Winter and they love how Almanzo and Royal feast on stacks of pancakes. So I've been asked nicely if they can have stacks tonight. I just wish I had a bigger frying pan or a proper griddle! Must remember that as a must-have in future years.


Recipe: Great-Grandma Beal's Light and Fluffy Pancakes

Ingredients:

First mix together:
1 cup flour
1/2 tsp salt
2 tbsp baking powder
2 tbsp sugar

Then beat in:
1 egg
1 cup milk
2 tbsp melted veg oil (or 2 tbsp melted butter or shortening)

How To Prepare:

Sift the dry mixture over the liquid mixture and blend together. You can also add frozen/fresh blueberries or other fruit to the batter if you like (we often add blueberries).

If the mixture seems too thick, add a little more milk. This batter makes a light pancake - the mixture should be light & not too thick (but not too runny either - just not like gumbo!).

Grease a frying pan very lightly. Drop the mixture into the hot pan. The pancake is ready for turning when small bubbles appear.

Adventures in weaning a toddler

I've always let my children self-wean. I'm comfortable nursing a toddler and fending off the ignorant comments of people who don't know all the health benefits of nursing past the first year. My boys all weaned when I was pregnant with the next baby, so between 16-18 months if my grey matter recall is working today.

My Rosie had me wondering if I'd be tandem nursing when this babe is born in May because she showed no signs of stopping her night-time nurse or the odd nurse during the day for comfort if she was particularly tired or injured in some way. Then in the last two weeks, no more boo-boo nummy requests.

Until just now.

Out of the blue, my little busy girl walked over, climbed onto my knee and looked up at me endearingly. "Boo-boo nummies, please?" she asked.

I told her I didn't think they would work any more because it's been a long time since she breastfed.

"I want boo-boo nummies please," she restated strongly, unphased.

I said again that I really didn't think that there would be any milk left in boo-boo nummies. She frowned, furrowing her little brow, and said, "Then we go buy milk at the store for boo-boo nummies." As if I could fill them up like a cup!

I laughed so hard she started to giggle. I let her try to nurse and she did for a few minutes and then left, saying, "Bye-bye, boo-boo nummies!"

Is it farewell for the moment, or is this the end of our breastfeeding relationship? Bittersweet, this weaning - even if it's gentle and unrushed.

Comfort Food

Stuffed bread (sandwiches for the cutting)

Cheese bread hot out of the oven

My cutie and her little loaf with her soup

When I'm sick I want soup. It's hot, nourishing, and not too heavy. It feels healing somehow. So we've had a lot of soup in the last two months, let me tell you! Yesterday I thought it would be fun for baby girl to help make some bread before I coaxed her to join me for a nap, but I wasn't happy with the recipes I have at hand. I've tried some from the Joy of Cooking but they're kind of blah. I've tried some online that were stodgy. So with my sweetie on my lap we started poking around online for a recommended, well-loved bread recipe.

We found one from a mum in Alberta who not only makes bread every week for her family, but lovely homemade soaps. So I read through Trish's recent posting of her family favourite bread recipe and felt it was made to order for us and our slow-cooking beef, barley, lentil, and every vegetable-at-hand soup. She offered up her wholesome recipe along with photos of each step along the way, which was great to follow. Nothing like no-brainer directions when you feel under the weather.

I didn't have any spelt flour at hand and hardly any whole wheat flour left so I had to do some substituting. I wanted that whole grain taste and texture, but what to do? I crumbled two Wheetabix cereal bars into my dough. It worked up a charm, rose beautifully, and was a hit with the family. I baked one of the four loaves plain, one with cheese, one with cheese'n onion'n herbs, and one with sandwich stuffings of shredded chicken, mayo, cheese, and onion. We enjoyed the cheese breads with our soup and they were devoured. I sliced up the sandwich loaf for lunches today and there's one plain loaf to be enjoyed today.

No school = family fun

Endurance. It's not something I ever associated as necessary for motherhood before I had children. Trying to get healthy and over this respiratory infection has been such a challenge. I feel I have no energy and would love nothing better than to curl up in bed. I cannot, alas, as my husband had to go back to work, I have no family here to help, and paying for childcare is simply not in the budget at the moment! The boys had no school Monday or Tuesday, which truthfully I was happy about. Having them home means I don't have to worry about drop-offs and pick-ups or packing lunches. They entertain the younger two and help so much with the puppy. And even though I feel I have no energy, their love of life and little adventures is an enthusiasm that pushes me along. I confess there are still moments when I feel so weary I could weep, but as a mum I have to smile through it and take care of the brood. I think I hear my Grandpa's voice in my head telling me it's all about building character!

We didn't do anything crazy or expensive for their days off. We took our puppy to the dog park along the ocean and had a ball. Everyone was happy in the sunny fresh air and loved getting to meet all the other dogs. We were out two hours the first day and then well over three the second. Albert tired himself out completely socializing with the canine crowd and the children searched for beach treasures, of course, and had a riot playing in a fort they found under an uprooted huge West Coast tree. And we all had the best time meeting Emma and Gus, two-year-old Newfoundland dogs, who lived up to their reputation as affectionate and playful gentle giants.

I'm betting they won't remember me lacking energy these early months of 2009. I think they're going to have great memories of playing along the shore of the Pacific Ocean with their beloved pet, Albert, when he was just a baby dog meeting all the other dogs with his happy wiggle. Good times, many little blessings.

Recovery aided by needles (knitting that is)

I've been fighting pneumonia the last week. I'm so blessed that my husband was able to take last Tuesday afternoon through Friday off work so he could take charge of the children and puppy while I rested as much as possible.

I don't feel healthy yet and can't wait to lose this cough but at least this week I feel human again.

While awake and with my toes up last week I finished my first pair of Playground Mitts. I just love this pattern! They knitted up nice and thick and my first recipient, Mini-Man, loves them. He thinks they're boxing gloves (*sigh*) but he loves them and has actually worn them outside because he can use his fingers when he feels the need for more dexterity than traditional mitts offer. I've got wee Rosie's on the needles at the moment and the older boys can't wait for theirs to be knitted. So if you're looking for practical children's mitts that are not too hard to knit, check out Playground Mitts. I confess I did find it a bit tricky to figure out how to flip the pattern on my own, but I did it!

Yummy Canadian pastry for cold winter days

I studied journalism in Ottawa, the nation's capital, and fell in love not only with my husband there: I became enamored with indulging in a piping hot Beaver Tail pastry while skating on the Rideau Canal. I never went for the garlic and melted cheese version of this delicious fried flat bread. Never. For me the Killaloe Sunrise was perfection: Dust the sizzling whole-wheat oval with sugar and cinnamon and then squeeze half a lemon over top. Mmmm. I can taste it now.

My friend Kirstin writes and posts beautiful photos of her recent trips to the Rideau Canal with her husband in her blog, Les étrangers, in her post of February 1, 2009. Reading of her return to Canada and venturing back onto the ice made my thoughts turn to food. Beaver Tails. Mmmm.

When I worked at the Ottawa Citizen newspaper there was a typist in the newsroom (olden days and typewriters, remember the late 80s and early 90s??) who learned of my passion for this doughy treat. She told me that she had the recipe from her grandmother and shared it with me. Now, I cannot call them Beaver Tails because I could be sued. I cannot verify if it is the same recipe used by this quintessential Canadian chain. But when I made them, they turned out almost the same as those I used to purchase along the canal and now have maybe once a winter season at nearby Lonsdale Quay.

Let's call them Moose Ears. Here is the recipe if you want to try making them for yourself:

Yeast Mixture
1 tablespooon white sugar
1/2 cup warm water
1 package (or 1 tablespoon) dry yeast

Dough
1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 1/3 cups warm water
4 tablespoons white sugar
5 to 8 cups flour (use 1/2 whole wheat and 1/2 all purpose for best results)

Assembly
Vegetable oil for deep frying
White sugar, cinnamon, lemon juice for garnish if you wish to try the Killaloe Sunrise taste
Other garnishes typically include jam, or garlic butter and grated cheese

To make the yeast mixture: Dissolve and mix together the ingredients for the yeast mixture in a small bowl and set aside. [If you've never made yeast rising dough, this allows the yeast to grow. Note: If the water is too hot it will kill the yeast. You want warm, so warmer than tepid water but not hot. It takes about five minutes for the yeast to get active and bubbly.]

To make the dough: In a large bowl, combine the vegetable oil, warm water, salt and sugar. Add the yeast mixture and mix. Add the flour one cup at a time. Knead the dough, then let stand (cover the bowl with a clean tea towel) for 1 1/2 hours so the dough can rise.

Form the dough into balls each about the size of an egg. Roll each ball flat, making ovals about 1/4 of an inch thick. Ovals that look like Moose Ears or maybe Beaver Tails...Canadian animal parts.

To assemble: Heat the vegetable oil to 350 degrees in a deep fryer, pot, or electric frying pan. Fry the flattened Moose Ears (wink, wink) one at a time until light brown on both sides. Place on paper towels to drain, then sprinkle with white sugar, cinnamon, and lemon juice while still hot.

Otherwise known as public speaking

Our older two boys were involved in the Speech Arts Festival for the Catholic schools on the North Shore this past week. Book'em recited a poem, G-man did a reading and also a speech.

I'm so proud of them for getting up on stage in front of a bunch of strangers! I hated public speaking as a teen and I don't think we ever did a speech until grade eight.

My grade one Book'em got the jitters (I think because he was the only child from his school in that group and I couldn't go in until it was his turn because I couldn't - ahem - guarantee that his naughty little brother and very well behaved little sister would be quiet for an hour). He refused to go up on stage the first two times. Then, at the very, very end, he went up. I was so happy that he did because otherwise the next time he has to speak in front of a group he might be more nervous. A bunch of parents from other schools came up to tell him how brave he was, which was just so very kind and generous of them and meant a lot.

G-man did well in both of his categories. He read with confidence and his speech came off beautifully. Thing is, when we signed up for Speech Arts the information said he could write his own speech about any topic he wished. He immediately decided that he would write a speech about his new puppy, Albert. A few weeks later his teacher said, no, all the children have to talk about their faith. This year's theme for Catholic schools in our archdiocese is, "We are His messengers." That, we were told, was the topic.

Well, you can imagine the excitement and enthusiasm that topic inspires in an eight-year-old boy who was absolutely set on talking about his new dog. Uh, huh. I'm a former Christopher Leadership instructor (hope to instruct again some day!!), so I showed him how if we got three points for him to talk about after a snazzy opening that would get us through his topic. I'm really proud of the speech he wrote and that he used the little story about St. Therese that I told him in his final point. It was a good exercise in taking something you're not keen on, slogging through it, and ending up with something you don't mind so much in the end.

But guess what? The kids could - and did except for the children from our school - talk about whatever they wanted! We sat there stunned and amazed as child after child talked about such things as global warming, numbers, and you guessed it, a new pet cat. G-man looked back at me as if to say, "What the heck?!"

I'm really, really annoyed. I think that his teacher must have figured that they would get extra points from the judges for piety or something. But what about the enthusiasm that they'd have all had for topics they originally chose? Forcing children to talk about religion if they don't have to isn't exactly the way to give them confidence up on a stage in front of a room full of strangers. I'm mulling over what I say to her on Monday because I am going to talk with her about this. I asked her point blank last month if G-man absolutely had to do a speech on the messenger of God theme and she assured me, eyeball to eyeball, that yes, this was the case. She lied to me. The grade three teacher lied!

Hilariously, my precocious yet polite little G-man told me after school yesterday that he went right up to his teacher and told her that all the children from the other Catholic schools talked about whatever topic they wanted. He asked her why he wasn't allowed to talk about his new dog and she said, "Well didn't you get extra points for religion?" He said he told her that he didn't care about points, he really would have liked to tell people about his new dog because he's waited years for us to get another dog.

Shouldn't it be about enjoying your public speaking experience and not whether you come home with gold, silver, or bronze?

That's why I feel so awful....

I went to the doctor last night - again. I am wheezing, completely out of energy, and really tired of battling the cough. I have no pep between this sickness and the pregnancy.

I have pneumonia. Lungs are full.

Now at least I don't feel as though I've been whining and feeling sorry for myself. I feel stoic for having slogged through all the events and meetings and so on of the last week!

International virus?

I have been battling a cough and sinus cold since the week before Christmas. I'm feeling a little sorry for my pregnant self now that I'm weeks into feeling snorky and hacking almost constantly. Hot lemon and honey drinks have done little to stop this viral nasty but they do give some comfort. We've been more than vigilant about anyone coughing covering his (or her) mouth with an elbow rather than hands (thereby spreading germs anyway) and very insistent on proper handwashing.

After all, I tell my boys, I can wash my hands all I want, but if they cheat and don't I'll get germs from them anyway. Quick rinse under tepid water? Uh-uh, mister. Get in there and scrub with soap and warm water as you say the alphabet twice or you're just giving the germs a bath.

Today as I was wracked by a particularly long and horrible cough my five-year-old looked at me with exasperation.

"Mumma!" he said sternly. "Stop coughing so much! I'm going to catch a German!"

There's only one thing cooler than saving your own baby teeth

...and that is finding your dog's puppy teeth and saving those, too.

G-man was thrilled, thrilled, thrilled beyond measure to find not one but two of Albert's canine teeth. These pointy teeth are way cool I'm told.

Good to know if you ever turn to a life of crime

With the new puppy, our boys are interested in all things dog. Especially big dog. We're constantly answering questions about breed and temperment now.

G-man and Book'em were wondering how our Old English pup, Albert, would react if a burglar broke into our home. Would he protect us? He's getting bigger and at 19 weeks is now a fairly large dog already. They weren't sure if he'd be playful and goofy with a robber the way he is with visitors or if he'd let out one of his now deeper barks.

I told them how our late sheepdog, good old Duncan dog, was quite shy but he would give off a big bark. He scared off would-be burglars from our apartment when their Daddy was in university in Toronto - bad guys who had cleaned out everything of value from our neighbour's unit. He also, one late night when I was walking him alone in downtown, barked a massively threatening-sounding bark at some men who were bothering me and they went running. The boys of course delighted in these stories of Old English Sheepdog heroism.

Then I remembered what our former landlady here in BC told us about Dobermans. She had two Dobermans and her family had always owned the breed. She said in their experience with real life bad guys coming into their homes at different times that Dobermans will let you in the home. But they won't let you leave. At least not till the owners and police get there.

Isn't that amazing?

New stuffed toy + teething puppy = macabre scene

The teenaged boys who board with us gave Mini-Man this stuffed panda bear for his fifth birthday on Saturday. Poor little man began shrieking as I was in the kitchen getting food ready for his soon-to-be-arriving guests for his birthday party.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Albert has hurt my bear! Mumma, my bear is HURT!"

I rushed out, fully expecting that our 23.6 kilogram, 19-week-old sheepdog puppy may have actually dismembered the poor stuffed toy, although Old English sheepies aren't really chewers (they more maw on things a bit but don't wreck very much in our experience). I was all set to stop and sew on a panda limb, not to see bright red blood all over the new bear's back. I started to laugh and laugh, much to poor Mini-Man's shock and dismay.

Albert puppy is teething molars, bless his little doggie heart. His blood was all over the stuffed toy. This was no panda massacre I had to explain to my preschooler. We got Albert to roll over on his back and I showed Mini-Man poor Albert's bloody gums and tried to stir up some empathy for puppy's need to chew to overcome teething pain. I then showed him how easily blood is cleaned off with cold water and all was fine again. Well, once panda was safely put out of puppy reach that is.