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Week 15

February 7, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“I need a wife.” — Me

This Monday and Tuesday are likely the busiest days of my entire year. In addition to normal mom duties and upcoming deadlines that need to be helped along, I have a 15,000-word report due on Tuesday and a two-day board meeting for Congo Restoration I need to attend.

Pray for me.

Sunday: Watching the Super Bowl with Clyde’s family in Waxahachie. Great crowd to watch a game I don’t really care about with. Sawyer has $11 on the Colts. Seems like a safe bet. We get the day off the Kelly Challenge so I plan to indulge in chips, queso, chocolate cream pie, and Dr Pepper. How many downward dogs do you think it takes to offset all that?

Monday: Breakfast together as I’ll be at the Congo Restoration meeting for dinner. My kid are so over the fried-egg-and-fruit trick we’ve been playing, so I think I’ll try this sausage and potato breakfast casserole. What’s not to love? Will have to make two, of course: one with real sausage; one with fake. But that means leftovers. I’ll make it on Sunday and just heat it up in the morning. Boys are on their own for dinner after making a run to get Noah at the rock climbing gym. I suspect they’ll go with Daddy Pasta (spaghetti tossed with olive oil, garlic power, salt, pepper, mozzarella, and tomatoes).

Stir-fried baby bok choy with garlic

Tuesday: I’m slammed all day, so we’ll eat something that takes little prep. Grilled chicken with stir-fried baby bok choy seems a good choice. Noah will have fake meat of some sort, and I have brown rice in the freezer. We got bok choy in our co-op pickup on Saturday. I’ve never cooked with it before so am excited to give it a try. It’s always the case that one of the four of us won’t like something new. My bets are on Sawyer this time.

Wednesday: Breakfast again as Noah and I are going to a rock climbing movie with a friend in Addison after the boys’ guitar lesson. Maybe there will still be leftovers from Monday? Fend For Yourself night for dinner unless I get inspired to whip up something else. I’ll be playing catchup on everything in our lives that’s gone to hell while I’ve been on deadline so who knows where the day will take me.

Thursday: Should be a post-huge-deadline leisurely day (although they rarely work out that way). I’ll be gone much of the afternoon taking Noah to practice and doing medial kits for Haiti with the rock climbing team so not home until 7:45 pm. Think I’ll make a nice red sauce (with meat for us; without for Noah). Clyde can toss together a salad and cook the pasta so it’ll be ready when we get home.

Friday: Dinner with friends. I have broccoli that needs to be eaten so think I’ll contribute this broccoli and herb frittata.

Saturday: Dinner with more friends. They’re making Cincinnati Chili. Oh yea.

Sunday: Our traditional Valentine’s Day fondue with the kids. Another day off the Kelly Challenge and we do plan on taking advantage of it. Every year, we have a scavenger hunt for the kids (with poems leading the way to the next treasure) and the same menu — a cheese fondue (with bread, steak, potatoes) and a chocolate fondue (with strawberries, pound cake, bananas, apple slices, clementines). Who needs to fight the Valentine’s Day dinner crowds when you have something this sweet at home?

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The two-minute breakfast

February 6, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“I’d like mornings better if they started an hour later.” — Unknown

This was our Saturday morning:

8:15 am: I’m up. Check email. Sawyer gets up and reads. Clyde and Noah sleep.

8:30 am: Time to wake the sleeping pre-teen, who didn’t get to bed ’til 11:20 pm (or at least sent his last text at that time; note to self: keep phone downstairs). A friend is picking him up for rock climbing at 9:20 am and we’re all eating breakfast together.

8:45 am: Clyde’s up, trying to figure out breakfast. Noah refuses. He begs me to let him sleep through rock climbing and crawls back into bed. I call his ride and cancel. Clyde goes back to bed.

9 am: Noah comes downstairs. Says he can’t go back to sleep so he might as well go to climbing practice. I call his ride and Clyde scrambles for breakfast.

9:10 am: His ride arrives 10 minutes early. Breakfast isn’t made. Noah isn’t packed (he’s having a birthday sleepover after rock climbing with a friend). I ask his ride to hold on, we’re not quite ready.

9:11 am: Birthday present wrapped. Noah packing.

9:13 am: Breakfast of cheese toast and clementines on the table in record time. Sawyer doesn’t like it but eats the clementine to be a good sport.

9:15 am: Noah’s up. Coat? Shoes? Mom, where are my socks?

9:18 am: Ready! Oops, climbing back is in Mom’s car out back. Get the keys, run to the back. No, it’s in Mom’s car. Get those gets, run to the back.

9:20 am: Noah’s out the door. Family time over.

Exhausting.

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Our third African feast

February 4, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“I miss Nigeria at Christmas. Everything closes down and you go into the villages, where there is nothing to do but visit.” — Peter Ketebu

Clyde has worked with Melanie Ketebu at various jobs for years. I’ve met her husband, Peter, a few times. We’ve eaten at their restaurant, the Crazy Catfish in Garland, and I’ve heard a million stories about their 10-year-old daughter. When I first came up with the idea of doing this blog and having a monthly meal with people from Africa, Clyde immediately said: “Can we invite Melanie and Peter over for dinner?”

Clearly, my dinner party invitations had been lacking over the years. I’ll admit I’m not great at expanding our social circle. Put me in the right situation — new city, new school, new church — I’ll make friends. But once I’m settled in and have my fair share, I’m done. I stop looking for new people to bring into the fold. And that’s how cool people like Melanie and Peter slip through the cracks.

Until, of course, I start a blog project that requires me to step out of my social comfort zone at least once a month.

And so on a very chilly Saturday evening in January, the Ketebu family joined our family (minus Noah, who was celebrating his best friend’s birthday). I’m sure they think my obsession with Africa is a bit odd. But they didn’t show it. Peter, it seemed, enjoyed talking about his home country as much as I enjoyed hearing about it. The youngest of nine kids, he came to the United States in 1981 to go to college here in Dallas. About the time he thought he would return, things got a little dicey back home, and his mom said he should stay. He did, fell in love, and has been here ever since.

Chin-Chin

Peter brought some traditional Nigerian dishes to share. Chin-chin may be our new favorite snack food (tiny bites of a fried, cookie-dough like mixture of eggs and flour). Nigerians snack on it before a meal or celebration. So do Texans once introduced to it. I’d heard that if Nigeria has a national food, it is simply spicy. And the suya they brought proved my research right. Suya is beef seasoned with a dry rub. Sawyer loved it. He drank lots of water with it, but you put meat on a stick, he’s there.

Suya

The rest of our meal had no African influence whatsoever. I made a rib meat sauce (saute an onion and some garlic in olive oil, brown one pound of country-style pork ribs; remove the ribs, add two 32-ounce cans of diced tomatoes, put the ribs back and cook for about 1 1/2 hours or until they are falling off the bone; take the meat off the bone and break into small pieces, then add back to the red sauce) served over penne pasta, salad, and ciabatta bread.

Over dinner and a couple bottles of wine, Peter talked about life in America for a Nigerian (no, we didn’t bring up the underwear bomber). I’m sure it is true of most communities of immigrants, but what fascinated me was how Peter and his Nigerian friends have managed to bring a bit of their country to their new home. There are Nigerian grocery and produce stores right here in the Dallas area (who knew?). When somebody gets married here, as in Nigeria, the guests “spray” the couple with money as they dance. The dance floor will be filled with bills, and someone heads up a table to organize all the cash. Christmas gifts? Cash. Birthday? Cash. When somebody dies in Nigeria, the local community also gives money to help the family. In recent years, Nigerians here have taken on that tradition when a parent, sibling, or child dies, especially helpful when you must fly back to Nigeria for a funeral, as Peter did when his mother died five years ago. Another interesting Nigerian tradition: when somebody dies, it can take months — maybe a year if they’re well-known — to have the funeral. They want to be sure everyone who wants to come, gets to come.

Nigeria, and the whole of Africa it seems, doesn’t know what it means to rush. I love that. Peter said he most misses Nigeria at Christmas. While we’re being bombarded with sales and must-haves and must-gets, running ourselves ragged and broke, Nigerians pick up and leave. Everything shuts down for about a month, starting a week or two before Christmas. Can you imagine? People leave the cities and go to the villages, doing nothing but catching up with family and friends. I long for a stretch of time like that, especially around the holidays. It will never happen here; maybe that’s part of the reason I’m so drawn there.

Peter said he should cook for us one of these days. Some traditional meals he grew up on include egusi soup (melon seed soup), which is served with FuFu (a porridge-like dish made with cassava); okro (okra) soup, also served with FuFu; and jollof rice (a traditional rice dish served with fried plantain).

I’ll bet in Nigeria, friends and dinner invitations don’t slip through the cracks. That’s a little part of Nigeria I’d like to bring back to America — or, at the very least, to my dining room.

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Week 14

February 1, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“More die in the United States of too much food than of too little.” — John Kenneth Galbraith (author of The Affluent Society)

And so, a month tardy by American standards, I have started Diet No. 2,765. Or thereabouts. The focus is the Kelly Challenge, a monthlong challenge Noah’s rock climbing team does annually. No sugar, no fried foods, no fast food, no soda. For adults, no alcohol. They pick the shortest month of the year and give you Super Bowl Sunday and Valentine’s Day off. Really pretty easy, in theory. For the first time, our whole family is doing it, Sawyer joining in at the last minute with promises of a celebratory feast at the end. We’ve even talked another family into joining us (and some rock climbing moms to further share the pain).

Red wine and chocolate will be the most difficult for me. Clyde will miss his after-dinner cocktail. Noah is steel when it comes to challenges like this. And I fully expect sweet-toothed Sawyer to cave by this time tomorrow.

Here’s our fun-free menu for the week:

Sunday: Broiled chicken thighs with some yummy Caribbean seasoning from Whole Foods and olive oil (tossed in the freezer, already marinated, last week when we ran out of propane and made a mad dash to eat Italian; yes, we’re still out of propane). Served the chicken with brown rice (successfully frozen two weeks ago and reheated in the microwave), a spinach salad, and crispy kale. Noah had his favorite fake chicken from Whole Foods.

Monday: Sawyer has tennis until 5 pm; Clyde has to do rock climbing practice pickup so they won’t be home until 7:45 pm. Leftover chicken, rice, lemon rosemary baked tofu, and broccoli sauteed in olive oil with salt, pepper, and a splash of lemon juice at the end.

Tuesday: Family breakfast as Clyde is going out with a friend for dinner. I don’t pick up the boys from school until 4:30 pm (one has chess, one has tutoring). We have leftover penne pasta from Saturday night, so I’ll jazz that up with some olive oil, garlic, cherry tomatoes and a yummy cheese. Maybe bread. This month, bread is the new chocolate. I’m thinking oatmeal for breakfast.

Wednesday: We’re all home by 6:15 pm, following the boys’ guitar lessons. I have some chorizo in the Land of Forgotten Foods (aka,the freezer) so I’ll make what we call arroz con chorizo. I saute a red pepper and yellow onion in olive oil, adding in sliced chorizo. When it’s cooked, I add in a few cups of cooked brown rice, which soaks up all that amazing grease … er, flavor. It’s great with a sweet white wine like a Riesling or Gerwurtztraminer … but we’ll just have to imagine. Noah’s not too fond of the vegetarian chorizo or of rice these days. Actually, he’s pretty much on a food strike, but I’ll try to find something for him.

Thursday: Another family breakfast (eggs?) as Clyde has a meeting tonight. Sawyer and I are at the rock climbing gym with Noah for most of the afternoon, not getting back ’til 7:45. To save money, we’ll once again enter the Land of Forgotten Foods. What do we find? Three packages of pork tamales! Whip those up with a salad and some frozen corn and we are good to go. I’ll grab a veggie burrito or a few veggie tamales for Noah beforehand.

Friday: There is talk of a regular Friday get together with the family suffering through the Kelly Challenge with us. Nothing specific yet. But we do have a list of what we won’t be eating. :(

Saturday: Yet another family breakfast as both boys have sleepovers with friends tonight! Clyde and I haven’t been out alone in so very long. We’re short on cash but are thinking of finally trying Louie’s, known for making some of the best pizza in town. It’s maybe five minutes from our house. I adore pizza. Ridiculous that we haven’t been there. And pizza is NOT on our can’t have list!

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Country 12: Tunisia

January 31, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“I am very grateful to my country. I was born and grew up in a part of the world where life is supposed to be hard for most people, but harder for women.” — Hayet Laouni, a business owner in Tunisia and member of the country’s Senate

Having spent the last few weeks reading Half the Sky, by Nicholas Kristof and Sherlyn WuDunn, I am newly passionate and educated about women’s rights around the world. And happy to report that Tunisia — a country that would seem to have two strikes against it, being Muslim and in Africa — does pretty well on the subject.

While certainly not a perfect country, Tunisia is doing better than most on the continent in many areas.

The "Star Wars Hotel"

Some interesting facts about Tunisia:

1. The Sidi Driss Hotel in Matmata, Tunisia, has been nicknamed the Star Wars Hotel. The hotel’s underground rooms were used as Luke Skywalker’s home on the desert planet of Tatooine.

2. Almost 10.5 million people live in Tunisia, which borders the Mediterranean Sea, is the northernmost country in Africa, and is slightly larger than Georgia.

3. 98 percent of Tunisians are Arab and Muslim (Islam is the official state religion, and the president is required to be Muslim).

4. Arabic is the country’s official language, with French being an important secondary language (Tunisia gained its independence from France in 1956).

5. The country’s first president, Habib Bouguiba, led the country for three decades, repressing Islamic fundamentalism and creating a legacy of rights for women unheard of in the Arab world.

6. 7.4 percent of Tunisians live below the poverty line.

7. 74.3 percent of the population is literate (83.4 percent of males, 65.3 percent of females). Free, mandatory education such as that found in Tunisia is rare in Africa.

8. Tunisian Oussama Mellouli won the gold medal in the 1500-meter, freestyle swim in the 2008 Olympics.

9. The Economist listed Tunisia as one of 10 “economically most free” African economies in 2008.

10. Less than 1 percent of Tunisians have HIV/AIDS.

Orphans at an SOS Children's Village project in Tunisia

How you can help:

• For $30 a month, you can sponsor an orphan in one of SOS Children’s Villages three projects in Tunisia.

• Amnesty International also works in Tunisia, on prisoner rights, free speech, and gay rights.

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Week 13

January 25, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing sound they make as they fly by me.” — Douglas Adams (English humorist and science fiction novelist)

I used to say that if I worked more than 15 hours a week, my whole family fell apart. Or maybe it was 20. Or 10. I can’t remember the number but do recall thinking how ridiculous it sounded.

Although our family does run better when I have less work, those days are over. I have more time and we need the money. Journalism hasn’t exactly been lucrative of late. But now I have a new, interesting, and regular freelance gig — plus two huge projects back to back. Good for the bank account. Not so good for the family.

So, menus of the next few weeks will be a bit simpler than those of the past. What that means is no recipes other than those I know in my own head. I’m not sure whether it’s actually faster to cook a memorized recipe, but I know it’s a lot less stressful. We have a refrigerator full of fresh fruit and veggies from Saturday’s co-op pickup, so that will be the basis of this week’s menus.

Oh, we’re also broke until these checks start rolling in. So, with little time and money to spare, here’s this week’s menu plan:

Sunday: We celebrated my nephew’s 15th birthday (wow) with the family in Waxahachie. Didn’t technically eat at the same table — adults ate Dickey’s in the living room, kids in the adjoining kitchen — but did share our fourth meal of the day (leftovers and chocolate mousse) once we got home. Apparently dinner at 4 pm doesn’t count. Fun, free, no cooking for me. Maybe we can make this a daily thing?

Monday: Fairly easy day for me, family-wise. Somebody else is picking up both kids and taking them to their activities this afternoon. Making my favorite Italian soup (aka, “Tracy soup”) for my favorite 9-year-old cancer patient and her family. (OK, she’s the only 9-year-0ld cancer patient I know. But even if I knew others, she’d still likely be my favorite.) We’ll have the same (a veggie version for Noah with no-chicken broth), ciabatta, and a salad. I have some kale that is on its last legs in the refrigerator so will toss that with olive oil, salt and pepper and broil that, too. Clyde will pick up Noah from climbing practice at 7, so we’ll all be home and ready to eat by 7:45 pm.

Tuesday: Another long stretch of work time for me as I don’t have to get the kids until 4:30 pm from school (tutorials for one, chess for the other). We’ll have an easy ham steak with cabbage and potatoes. Potatoes because everyone loves them and, if I add some cool stuff to them, they can be Noah’s main meal. Think I’ll add goat cheese, garlic, and parsley — because it sounds delicious and we have all three.

Wednesday: Kids just have guitar from 5-5:30 pm, so we can eat early (making Sawyer very happy) if we’re on the ball. We have some chicken in the freezer (Clyde can grill that up for us and have some leftovers to freeze for Grandma), sauteed spinach, broccoli (we like both; kids only like the latter), with some brown rice I cooked with wine and no-chicken broth and froze last week. I’ll get some fake chicken for Noah. UPDATE: All prepped and ready for Clyde to throw together while we were at guitar … only for him to find we were out of propane. What’s the No. 1 rule of the family dinner? Flexibility. Off we dashed to our favorite cheap Italian restaurant, Tony’s, for a lovely meal. The kids read the entire time so it was almost like a date. Saved the dinner for an easy quick meal on Friday.

Thursday: I’ll be at rock climbing practice most of the evening with Noah, while Clyde is at a church meeting. Sawyer will be at one or the other, whichever he finds least offensive. So we’ll have a family breakfast and Fend For Yourself Night for dinner. For breakfast, I’m thinking this fruit & oat muesli I meant to try a couple of weeks ago and didn’t. It can be made the night before, is healthy, and will use up a lot of that co-op fruit.

Friday: We may be having our third African feast tonight; still waiting to hear confirmation. If not tonight, we’ll swap around menus with Saturday. Not sure what I’m planning yet, but the high is 41 and we have a lot of sweet potatoes so those factors may come into play. Update to come as the week (and plans) progress. UPDATE: Wednesday’s dinner will become tonight’s dinner once we get the propane.

Saturday: Our third African feast with a friend of Clyde’s, her Nigerian husband, and their daughter. Noah will be gone, unfortunately, so it’ll be a small affair. Menu to come.

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From family bed to family table

January 24, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“The only thing worth stealing is a kiss from a sleeping child.” — Joe Houldsworth

Noah sleeping, 1997

We have a tradition in our home that started from the family bed of my children’s babyhood. We played musical beds for years before finally settling in on the norm, which is generally us in our room and the boys sleeping in the same room (with the occasional nightmare sending Sawyer frantically down the stairs).

When they were younger — out of our bed but not completely happy to be in their own — I laid down with them every night to go to sleep. It whipped me. My mind raced with all the things I needed to be doing — all seeming infinitely more important than lying in bed with two squirmy boys. I eventually negotiated out of that arrangement by saying I would lie down with them every Sunday night. Who knew so many years later, at ages 12 and 9, this would still be a sacred event in our home. They ask every Sunday night. If I have something else I need to do, they’re OK with it. But they’re asking again on Monday.

Boys sleeping, 2001

Once I settle in, ignoring my to-do list, it is one of my favorite times of the week. They are safe, sweet, snuggly, and clean (certainly not their normal state these days) … like larger versions of their baby selves. For a few brief moments, I can stop thinking about protecting them from the big bad world and just enjoy the prayers and whispers.

Our dinner table has a similar feel. Not as sweet nor as snuggly (although they do still like to sit in our laps when we’re done eating) but just as safe, just as sacred. The point in your child’s life where others have more influence over them than you do — or at least it feels that way — is scary for a parent. And it seems to happen instantaneously. One minute, they look to you before making every move. The next, they make every move, hoping you aren’t looking. It is a separation that must occur. In 5 1/2 years, Noah will be somewhat out on his own. Our job is to make sure he can handle that. Logically, I get this. Emotionally, not so much. So these moments where it is just the four of us, three or even two of us — with no intrusion from anybody or anything — are rare and radically important for my psyche. And, I believe, for theirs.

Boys sleeping, 2010

As I laid with them this evening — snuggling with one boy who can barely stand the sound of my voice much of the day and another who spends his days so on the move he hardly has time for a quick hug — I remembered how fleeting this time is. Even though I only do this once a week now, sometimes it still feels like a chore, interrupting work, a TV show I want to watch, a book I want to read. But I know someday they won’t ask. I never know when the last time will be. So there I am, every Sunday, knowing someday I will strain to remember that clean, snuggly boy smell and feel.

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Country 11: Nigeria

January 23, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“We were all told stories as kids in Nigeria. We had to tell stories that would keep one another interested, and you weren’t allowed to tell stories that everybody else knew. You had to dream up new ones.” — Ben Okri (Nigerian poet and novelist)

Like most Americans, I didn’t think much about Nigeria until Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, a 23-year-old Nigerian, tried to blow up a Northwest Airlines flight from Amsterdam to Detroit — an event that will forever be known as the attempted Christmas Day underwear bombing.

My brother(ish)-in-law was stationed in Nigeria. A new musical on Broadway, Fela, tells the story of Fela Anikkulapo Kuti, a legandary musician and political activist from Nigeria. My husband also has a friend whose husband is Nigerian. I asked if he thought they would think it weird if we invited them over for dinner as part of this project. He said the weird thing it is that we’ve never had them over before. Which is true. That’s part of the fun of a blog project. It makes you just do things.

Traditional Nigerian dancers

Interesting facts about Nigeria:

1. It is the most populated country in Africa — the 8th most populated in the world — 149.2 million people living within its borders. Only 3.1 percent of the population is over the age of 65.

2. Nigeria, which is slightly larger than twice the size of California, produces more oil than any other country on the continent — yet often has a shortage of gasoline. During the oil boom of the 1970s, Nigeria was one of the wealthiest countries in the world; now it is among the poorest.

3. Half of Nigerians are Muslim, 40 percent are Christian, and 10 percent participate in indigenous religions.

4. Twenty percent of Nigerian children die before the age of 5 from treatable diseases.

5. The most popular sport in Nigeria is football (soccer). The team representing Nigeria in the 1996 summer Olympics won the gold.

6. A 2003 report in New Scientist magazine said Nigerians were the happiest people in the world.

Nigerians protesting their president's absence from the country (The New York Times)

7. Nigeria gained its independence from the UK in 1960 and became a democracy in 1999, yet it hasn’t felt very democratic. The first democratic elections handing power from one civilian to another in 2007 didn’t go so well, and the government is considered one of Africa’s most corrupt (which is saying something). President Umaru Yar’Adua has been in Saudi Arabia for two months getting medical treatment, a situation that isn’t going over so well with his people.

8. There are more than 250 ethnic groups in Nigeria.

9. The average boy goes to school for 9 years; the average girl, 7 years.

10. Nigerian cuisine is incredibly varied — but it’s mostly all spicy. One okra soup popular in the country is a lot like New Orleans gumbo. Chili peppers are a favorite seasoning.

11. Nigeria has been called “the heart of African music.” The country also has a booming film industry, called … wait for it … Nollywood.

12. Women have very few rights here: 60 percent have endured genital cutting, 10 out of the country’s 36 states have laws that allow husbands to use physical force against their wives, and marital rape is legal.

Students at the Dr. William Kupiec Academy for Girls

How you can help:

• The Dr. William Kupiec Academy for Girls opened last September in Nigeria, the first Christian-Muslim school in this country of so much religious conflict. The school accepted its first class of 35 7th-graders in the fall and hopes to grow to 400 students. Right now, though, water is in immediate need for these future leaders of Nigeria. Your donation will keep these girls in school, changing their lives and their country.

• For $27 a month, support a woman through Women to Women International, which works in war-torn countries like Nigeria. Your letter of support to these women is as important as the money that helps them start their lives over with education and a trade.

• For $30 a month, you can help a child or family in need through SOS Children’s Villages, which is working in three Nigerian communities. The organization also works with local children with HIV/AIDS.

Posted in Africa | Tagged , | 8 Comments »

Week 12

January 18, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“If people take the trouble to cook, you should take the trouble to eat.” — Robert Morley

There will be minimal cooking this week (why is cooking for three is so much less stressful than four?). And much of what is cooked will be prepared by Noah, who won the highly competitive Snarky Teenager of the Year Award on Sunday. His prize package includes being head chef for the family at breakfast and dinner, with the bonus of being head dishwasher. He’s thrilled. Seriously.

Head chef for the week

All this on top of the fact that he actually is working this week. His middle school requires a week-long unpaid internship. So this week he’s working every day at TCBY. Getting up to make us breakfast, rushing to get the dishes done before heading off to work, coming home dog-tired only to have to make dinner and do dishes all over again. This sounds so familiar …

Here’s our week (which blessedly doesn’t seem to involve any rock climbing due to Noah’s work schedule):

Sunday: Dropped off Clyde at the airport and headed home for leftover night. Sawyer had leftover steak and roasted potatoes, I had leftover arroz con pollo, and Noah (post the standoff over the grilled cheese sandwich) had roasted potatoes and milk.

Monday: This morning, Noah made an impressive start to his culinary week by whipping up pancakes with bananas, blueberries, strawberries and/or blackberries (frozen fruit, of course; the only way to afford organic berries this time of year). Quite delicious and we had a good time cooking together. “See,” he says. “We wouldn’t be having these delicious pancakes if I hadn’t thrown away the grilled cheese.” Oh what a clever drama queen he is. He starts his TCBY gig so we’ll dine at the Subway next door. Single parenting can be so simple.

Tuesday: Noah continues to work; Sawyer goes back to school after a three-day weekend and has chess ’til 4:45 pm. A mad dash to get Noah at 5, then back home. The coconut-Thai breaded chicken breast looked too good to pass up at Whole Foods. On sale for $5.99 a pound, it would normally be too expensive for three of us. But for just Sawyer and me, well worth it. Noah is way into this fake meat at Whole Foods (“steak” with a vinegar plum sauce) so I’ll get that for him. Green beans and rice will go nicely with both.

Noah cutting up some Brussel sprouts while chatting on the phone

Wednesday: The boys  have guitar tonight, which is just 30 minutes but means I’m not home for something that needs to be served immediately. I got some of North Bay Trading Co’s 32-bean and 8-vegetable soup in the bulk section of Whole Foods. I (I mean Noah) just puts one part soup mix to eight parts water, adds in some whole tomatoes, simmers for a few hours and it’s done. Says it’s best to make it the night before so we’ll make it Tuesday night, which works better with his work schedule anyway. Think I’ll have him make two pots, one with a little bacon for the carnivores. UPDATE: The boys and I thought this soup was pretty bland (especially the vegetarian version; bacon makes anything eatable).

Thursday: If the beans are a success, we’ll have those again. Why complicate things? I’ll add some ciabatta to keep things interesting.

Friday: Clyde comes home so we’ll likely grab a quick dinner on the way home from the airport. The three of us will have breakfast together (Noah makes a mean omelet) just in case his flight is delayed.

Saturday: We’ll have extra boys so need something good for the masses. We just did tacos when we recently had extra kids, and it worked. Why mess with success?

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The great grilled cheese standoff

January 17, 2010 by Dawn McMullan

“The food you buy is crap.” — Noah on this less-than-idyllic Sunday afternoon

Oy.

The lastest pre-teen battle started with a request to go to the mall this afternoon, catch a movie with friends, and hang out a bit. All without parents, he casually pitched, as if he was asking to go upstairs and read a book. Now, Noah is 12. OK, 12 1/2. And I’ll give him that some of his friends are allowed to do such. But he’s not. Every family has different rules is a mantra he’s heard enough times he finishes the sentence for us.

Fast forward to a full-scale fit involving tears, screams, declarations of I don’t want to be part of this family (from him, not me), and the lately predictable slams at the food I dare buy and prepare for him. Feeling his life is pretty damn good, Clyde and I tired of his complaining. That’s it, I told him. You want to see what a life of no fun is like, a life of no choices, you’ve got it. I sent him upstairs and fixed lunch. Grilled cheese and orange slices for him. And his life would consist of his room’s four walls until he could find a little more gratitude and respect.

Noah at lunch: I’m not going to eat it.

Me: Well then, you’ll sit there until you do. The next meal you have will be that grilled cheese sandwich and those orange slices.

Noah: Fine.

And there he sat. Until he later glared at me with daggers, crumbled up the sandwich, and threw it in the recycling bin. Clyde and I fished it out and put it back on his plate. We were going to the mat on this one.

My dad did this to me once. I remember the house we were in so I was under the age of 8. The food in question was a hot dog with ketchup on it. I sat there, with much self-righteous stubbornness, until I decided to feed it to the dog. Our German shepherd Alaska happily gulped it up. Dawn: 1. Dad: 0. Did you eat the hot dog? my dad asked. Yes, I told him. So why does the dog have ketchup on her nose? I was young enough that Daddy thought it was cute.

At 12, not so much. Lunch came and went, and we put the grilled cheese sandwich and orange slices in the refrigerator.

The tension eased, we had more rational discussions about how Noah didn’t seem very appreciative for what he has, and the day went on. At dinner, I had leftover arroz con pollo, Sawyer had leftover steak and roasted potatoes, Clyde ate peanuts on an airplane, and Noah sat at the table, explaining that he was never eating that sandwich. He wasn’t being confrontational anymore, just stating the facts as he saw them.

How many days will I have to go without eating before you give me something else to eat? he asked.

I considered the week ahead. Noah’s middle school requires students to have unpaid internships. He’ll work for 40 hours at a local frozen yogurt shop, starting tomorrow. I pictured him passing out or telling the owner that we hadn’t fed him since breakfast on Sunday. If he were going to be home or just going to school (where I could explain the sandwich standoff), that would be fine. But this internship complicated matters.

While I ruminated on this silently, Noah came up with a plan. What if he cooked the family dinner for the next week — or at least helped me cook. He grabbed his vegetarian recipe book. Oh, no, I told him. All the food is bought for the week. You’ll cook what I have planned, which will involve meat. Breakfast and dinner. And you’ll do the dishes.

Done. He jumped at the chance, tossing the grilled cheese and orange slices in the trash.

Seems a reasonable compromise. The problem is he isn’t appreciative — of much lately but especially of the food we give him. He prefers pesticides, he tell us, adding that Whole Foods has nothing he likes. I’m not caving there. He will not grow up on a diet of Kool-Aid, white bread and high-fructose corn syrup. I realize that developmentally, he’s just trying to separate from us. I’m hard-core on food (yes, I may have some control issues here), so he’s decided this is where he’s going to state his independence. I’m giving where I can (we do have white bread for his organic peanut butter & jelly sandwiches), but I feel it’s just good parenting to give him a healthy start in life and teach him about nutrition.

So over the next week, maybe he’ll realize that cooking and cleaning is a bit of a hassle. And we’ll spend time together doing something we both really do like to do.

Dawn: 1. Noah: 1. Grilled cheese: 0.

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