French Chef Saturdays

After months of waiting, I finally managed to watch "Julie & Julia," which was on my movie wish list during those last few months of pregnancy with Elias. Of course, Elias came a little early, I was too covered in baby-vomit to really care what we watched, and then the movie left the theaters. Besides, the kid was a screamer so I wouldn't have heard it anyway.

Anyway . . . Scott and I watched the movie as a Redbox rental. I adored it. Enough to order it through our TiVo/Amazon set up, which is supposed to be a 30 day rental thing until you start watching it, then you have 24 hours to wrap it up. I never rent a movie twice, so this was a huge thing for me. I cannot even begin to detail my utter disappointment when I clicked on the title only to learn that when you buy the weekend special for $1.99, it is just that - a weekend special. If I choose not to watch it by the end of the weekend, I might as well flush two dollars down the toilet because it would achieve the same thing. Scott was caught off guard by the depth of my emotion and, in true amazing-man fashion, purchased the film on his way home from work the next morning. Sigh - I love that man.

We both watched it again, enjoying the dialogue, the characters, and the storyline. Scott and I both tend to be fans of dialogue driven movies. If we don't like the conversations and the characters, no amount of special effects or blood can win us over. (In fact, the further away from the "Inglorious Basterds" bloody moments I get, the more impressed I am by the characters. Scott thinks I'm crazy. To which I say just one look at our lives is enough to make someone hear the crazy comment and simply reply with: "Duh.") But, after this movie, we both found ourselves thinking about French food. A lot. Scott kept saying that he was going to pick us up copy of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" so we could give it a try. I checked around a little bit and the only copies I saw were relatively expensive considering how hard he is working right now, so we were thinking it would just wait for a couple of months. Then, while buying a Barbie Movie for a dreadfully ill Abigail one day in Target, I spied the anniversary edition of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" poised on an endcap with the most glorious sign above it: 60% off!!

We have now designated Saturday as our French cooking day. Our cooking supplies are dreadfully under-stocked for Julia Child's recipes, so we not only find we must shop for ingredients, but we are having to purchase pots, pans, scrapers, etc. However, we are still spending less each week in supplies and ingredients than we used to ordering pizza one night each week. (For the record - how sad is that statement?) Our newest acquisition is a gorgeous blue dutch oven which arrived in plenty of time for our beef stew recipe - scheduled for next Saturday. Tomorrow's meal is Ratatouille, which was chosen by the children, who are learning French cooking right beside us. Tucker's favorite thing to do is chop anything so he can announce he is finished with a Julia Child/Meryl Streep inspired victory cheer.

We are enjoying the time in the kitchen together immensely and we all anticipate Saturday with an eagerness similar to Christmas morning. I would have never thought that we would, as a family of 10, find that our favorite activities together would include camping, bike rides, swimming, sledding, and preparing a fine, French meal.

Query

So, what precisely is ice-cream etiquette for the young and sloppy?

We spent a large portion of our day roaming all over a friend's large yard after three days of heavy rain. Let's just say that the mud was very present and I am currently soaking most of the clothes worn today to try and see if they are salvageable. We had fun, it was great to be outside in the sun, and we adored the chance to visit with dear friends.

In true Rutherford fashion, leaving on-time was an impossibility. Truly - how does one leave when they are completely enjoying the company they are with? So, I managed to remotely start the oven for the dinner Dawson had whipped up before we left the house. (Okay. Fine. So it wasn't as high-tech as it sounds. I called Scott and asked him to put it in. He switched laundry for me, too. Are you happy you made me spill my secrets??) But nothing could get us home in time for baths before we sat down to dinner with a much beloved Nana and Papaw, just returned from 2 weeks in LA. We simply ate in our muddy attire: laughing, sharing, chatting, and grinning.

Afterwards, Papaw delighted us with an invitation to McDonald's for ice-cream cones. I felt the younger children should change before we left because, let's face it, they looked gross and the people at McDonald's have eyes. However the other adults present felt that they should be allowed to go out in public "as is" since they would, after all, be eating ice cream, which usually results in a similar mess as to that which they were already sporting. In the end, we compromised by having only Abigail change since she did look as if she had quite literally rolled in the muck with pigs all day. Which, if you want to call the Miles' kids pigs, would be true. But since I won't call them pigs, I'll leave that distinction up to the reader.

And while yes, many of us left McDonald's sporting obvious signs of ice cream cone drippings down our shirts, I'm still not convinced it wouldn't have been nicer to the world at large to have simply sullied two outfits today.

If You Give a Tucker a Challenge . . .

I discovered something quite delightful the other day. Of course, years from now, Tucker will be trying to understand why he wasn't rescued by CFS or something similar. But for now, I have found the best method for getting Tucker to do something is to imply that he can't.

Okay. Okay. I admit it. There is no implying. I look him right in the eyes and tell him I don't think he can do it. For an example (taken from real life) simply read the following scenario:

1. Tucker: "Math (super whiney voice) . . . I don't want to do math."

me: "Well, that's probably because you know you can't do it. No problem - I'll put it away."

Tucker: "I can do it! Give me a pencil. I'll show you!"

I was truly so surprised at the effectiveness of this method, that I had to try to take it further. So after school was over, I attempted to see if this really is a working 'Tucker method," or if I just got lucky. The following series of events then ensued.

2. me: "Wow. This bathroom is really dirty. It's a shame you don't know how to clean a bathroom, Tuck."

Tucker: "Oh yes I can! I'm going to get the cleaners right now. You'll see."

Tucker, 15 minutes later: "Mom - I did it. You weren't right!"

me: "Hmm. You sure did do it. It's a shame you can't vacuum, though."

Tucker: "WHAT?? I CAN VACUUM!"

me: "Really? I'm not sure that's true since the dining room floor is pretty messy and you walked through it and didn't do anything about it. I think that's because you can't do it."

Tucker: "I'll show you!"

me: "Well, we'll see . . ."

Tucker, 15 minutes later: "Mom - I vacuumed the floor. I told you I could do it."

me: "Well, I'm pretty surprised. But I think you got lucky."

Tucker: "What do you mean? I worked hard!"

me: "I'm sure you did. But, I was noticing that the hall that goes to the dining room is pretty messy, and you left it that way. Maybe it was just too tiring to do the dining room and the hall. I could always call someone stronger . . ."

Tucker: "I AM STRONG! See?" (big show of muscles)

me: "Well, I guess there's only one way to see how strong you are . . ."

vacuum starts back up

Tucker: "Mom - look at the hall. See how strong I am?"

me: "Wow, Tucker. Maybe you are stronger than I thought. But, don't worry about the living room - I'm sure you're worn out and I should have someone else handle this next part. You're still pretty young to do so much . . ."

vacuum starts back up

Tucker, 20 minutes later: "I can do anything the bigger kids can do. See - look at the Living Room!"

me: "Wow. I am really impressed. You did do all that vacuuming. You must be really strong -much, much stronger than I thought. But, you know all the older ones can do all this and change diapers. I don't think you can do that, too."

Tucker: "I'm going to find Abigail and Elias. I can do anything!"

I watched from around the corner as he adeptly changed both Abigail's and Elias's diapers on the quite clean living room carpet. And as I walked down the freshly vacuumed hallway, past the shining bathroom and into the spotless dining room, my mind began thinking of dozens of ways to exploit my new-found knowledge.

Insert evil mother laugh here.

We Cut The Cord!

The landline cord, that is. As of yesterday, we are officially cell-phone only. And, while we made the decision with a lot of discussion and weighing the options, it feels really, really weird to no longer have a landline after 36 years of having a phone tied to a wire in the house. No phone in the kitchen. No phone on the desk. No phone upstairs. Well, actually, there is a phone upstairs. The old Mickey Mouse phone I received for my 17th birthday that actually has a cord connecting the receiver to the base. Now that phone is old. And is most certainly not plugged in. (The kids like to play with it and pretend Mickey is calling them.)

Only time will tell how long it takes us to stop reaching for the phone on the counter and to remember it's in our pockets. But, for now, this is just weird.

Out With A Whisper

Scott called from the ED a few moments ago, asking if there was anything I need him to bring home tonight. My answer was a simple "Nope," but in my head I was thinking, "Why?" I'd completely forgotten in is New Year's Eve.

The oldest seven kiddos are already in bed and Elias is enjoying his Baby Einstein Time behind me (weeps for everything else anyway, so why not?) I've honestly never been much into the New Year's thing anyway, but there is something little alarming about forgetting entirely, isn't there? Or am just comfortable enough in my own skin to not even pretend to care anymore?

I love New Year's Day -- traditional Kraut and Pork meal, games, laughter, family. But the whole staying up until midnight just to watch the clock move has never really been a big deal. I do love First Night Annapolis, but I haven't been to that since I was pregnant with Tucker and I was so tired for the next few days that I questioned my sanity for even going at all. (Although, the Shakespeare Players that night were so great!) Nope, I'm more of a go to sleep normal and wake up the next morning normal kind of gal.

On Facebook, everyone was posting their well-wishes and excitement over parties. I just can't get into it. Perhaps if Scott were a bigger New Year's guy it would be different. But, let's face it - he's usually working New Year's Eve, so we almost never spend it together. In fact, the last First Night Annapolis I went to, I took Shelby while Dawson and Isabelle stayed with my folks and Scott was working. It's just not our thing.

So, while everyone else is ringing in the new year with shouts of joy and sips of champagne, I'll be curled up under my electric blanket, fast asleep.

Christmas, Rutherford Style

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, we traveled to Sherlund Tree Farm in order to tag our Christmas tree. Ryan. Laura, & dad D went along and we had so much fun tromping through the woods. Tucker found the tree this year, and we captured his victorious tagging-of-the-tree moment. We've learned that pictures are the best memory device we have in a family of 10!

I love winter. It is by far my favorite season. We had a great snowstorm last weekend, just in time for a white Christmas (although the snow was a little dirty by the time Christmas actually got here.) I took turns taking the children with me on errands and we made a point to walk through the snow whenever we could, just to hear it crunching. I adore that sound, and I would miss it terribly if we do ever move away from the snow. I keep angling for a family relocation to New England, but I am constantly over-ruled. I'm sure that 5 years will find me someplace where snow freaks out everyone around us and the entire world shuts down because of a flake or two. Bummer.

Christmas was fantastic. We had all the traditional trappings with one glaring exception - no cookies. We just never got around to making the cookies. We chopped down our tree, wrote our newsletter, decorated the house, did some caroling, the girls went to the Nutcracker, played tons of games, read gobs of books, laughed A LOT, visited Santa, had some parties, on and on and on . . . But we never did bake those cookies. I am so very thankful we had friends who love us enough to take pity on the sufferings of eight children without Christmas cookies and delivered some to our door. And they were really yummy. And I mean were quite literally - they are completely gone. The locusts disguised as Rutherfords descended.

After the last few Christmas's rushing to be everything to everyone, it was so wonderful to just sit back this year and say such phrases as "Sure, that sounds great. Have fun without us!" or "Hmm, we can come for a couple of hours, but then we're heading home." No pressure, no guilt. When the Shirey family called last minute to let us know of a fun trip to Santa, we were actually able to go. Years past, we would have been too booked to last-minute a trip on December 23. But we went and had a great time walking through an outdoor light display and visiting with the Jolly-Elf Himself. I really found our "no thankyous" quite freeing this year. Why did it take us 15 Christmas tries to finally find the balance between doing it all and doing nothing?

And Christmas itself was smaller this year. Rather than quantity, we went for quality and the difference was amazing. The gifts were enjoyed immediately. Rather than being overwhelmed, post breakfast found each of the kids engrossed in their own pursuits. Shelby working with her new guitar. Dawson pouring over his Lego book. Isabelle painting on her new canvas boards. Tucker practicing his Cuda board in the hallway. Keats & Aidan flying their Backyardigains around on dragons while clomping in their new cowboy boots. Abigail pushing her Baby-No-Name around in her new doll-stroller while wearing sunglasses. Elias gnawing on his organic terry teether. And the happy sounds were coming from all directions.

"Mom - I just made the perfect shade of purple!"

"Mom - listen to this chord! I just learned it on the internet!

BANG!! followed by severe wall rattling. "I'm alright! Just lost my balance for a minute! No worries!"

"Hey- there is a pattern here for making the Sphinx! I can't wait to give that a go."

"Coo, coo, gurgle." followed by big grins when anyone caught Elias's eye.

"Wait for me, Pa-ba-lo!" shouts Keats/Tyrone. Clomp-clomp-clomp.

"Hurry moose! Hey - what's your name again?" Aidan breaks character to ask. "I'll ask mom." clomp-clomp-clomp. "Mom says you're Tyrone. Hurry, Tyrone!"

"Baby-No-Name is coming! Watch out or I'll run you down on accident!"

This was the first year in many that we have slept at home, in our own beds. What a difference! No packing for 10. No keeping everything straight. No trying to get everyone calmed down in their new environment to get some sleep. No dozens of trips back upstairs to remind everyone to be quiet and go to sleep. And, when we all woke up - everyone was well rested, making for a much more pleasant Christmas morning experience. Personally, I didn't feel the need to lunge for the coffee pot and start chewing beans while waiting for the brew like I usually do.

Ryan & I tend to be the traditonalists in our family. But, even I have to admit, our break from tradition this year was really nice. Sure, we did most of the stuff we usually do. But it was those few no's that made all the difference. And, the crazy thing is that the first "No thank you" was inexplicably tough. But each one that followed got easier and easier. By the time we got to Christmas Eve, I was possibly enjoying saying no a little too much. And because there was a balance this year, none of us have felt the Annual-Christmas Let-Down, which is worth celebrating in and of itself!

So now, I am going to place clothes in the dryer (since laundry never takes a vacation), lay a fire in the grate, and cuddle with my boy while he's still young enough to enjoy it. Merry Christmas to all!

Zoom -- Was That Thanksgiving I just Passed?

It is actually Wednesday - the Wednesday after Thanksgiving, to be precise. Really? Where did that week go? Ryan and Laura were here, we spent extra time with Jenna, Aaron, Sadie and even a day with Trinity and Sam. Thanksgiving was a nice, casual day with all our favorite people - Chip and Kathy, Alex, Dylan, the Marshalls, the Dubachs and Dubachs, and us. It really didn't feel like it flew by, but before we knew it, we were having one last brunch with Laura before she caught the plane to go to her folks house. Too fast.

We used to have Thanksgiving and then the next day we pulled all the Christmas bins and boxes from the attic and started festooning the house. Not this year. We told the kids we needed at least a week in between Thanksgiving and decorating. Don't get me wrong - I love Christmas. I love the lights, the coziness, the smell of the fresh-cut tree, the cold. But this year has just been too fast. I think both Scott and I knew we needed a week in between to simply slow down how fast it feels everything is going. I know it won't really slow down the time, but it is helping mentally to ease the pace.

I often wonder if we are the only ones who feel this rush of time, or if we are simply two out of many. Shelby will be 14 in just 3 short months. Yet I remember so clearly feeling her moving inside me before she was born. Does my mother look at my 36 year old self and feel the same?

Ahh, Elias's swing needs to be reset again. Another 5 minutes are gone. Just like that.