Mommy Ima

“Mommy, Ima kitty!  At the carnival! Watch me on the ferris wheel!  MEEEOOOOOW!”

This is how Preschooler usually greets me in the morning. Preschooler likes to pretend.  In fact, she is very rarely Preschooler.  Instead she is a princess, a doctor, a pirate, a pet-store owner, a chef, a mama, a zebra, a puppy.  It’s not just that she plays with her My Little Ponies or her stuffed animals, sending them on wild adventures, although she does do this.  It’s that she imagines herself to be something, and sends herself on a wild adventure.

At the same time, this amount of pretend play seems totally normal to me, if only because I engaged in so much pretend play as a child.  Best Friend and I met when were were 4 and 6 respectively, and for the next six years or so, we pretended pretty much everything.  We were doggies, we were mommies, we were teachers, we were astronauts. 

Eventually we outgrew pretending in favor of activities such as board-games and fingernail-painting.*  But out of that pretend play grew creative writing.  We’d write stories, poems, and even created newspapers.  We’d start novels that we never finished.  She inspired me to start blogging, and when I did she was the only one I told, if only because she knew me so intimately as a writer and she had seen me start and then give up on some many writing projects before.

So I’m thrilled to see Preschooler plays pretend.  I’m even more thrilled that Toddler is already following in Preschooler’s footsteps.

Who knows where this will take them?

*By the way, does anyone else remember having sleep-over parties where you all gave each other manicures, or experimented with make-up, or something like that?  Do teenagers even do these things anymore?  I’m pretty out of it.

I Could Cook Dinner, But I’ve Run Out Of Repression. And Butter.

I love old cookbooks. I love how, through food, we get a glimpse of social and home life at the time of the cook book’s publication.

Recently, I inherited a Betty Crocker cook book from my Grandmother. It is the 1956 2nd edition, and full of useful information on how to be a pleasant housewife and a good hostess.

Let’s take a look at some of these gems, shall we?

The first page is titled “Special Helps.” In front of that Grandma paper-clipped instructions for making 15 different cocktails. Even the Cappuccino contains an ounce of Brandy. “Special Helpers” indeed!

The tips on measuring and cooking techniques are still useful today. And strongly enforced.

Measure that pan, lest Officer McShane beat you within an inch of your life.

Betty Crocker shares more meal-planning wisdom. For example:

“Why are some mothers tired all the time and some children fighting colds all winter? Probably because they don’t eat the right things.”

It certainly can’t have anything to do with having to chase after children who squabble and and lick things. It has nothing to do with the elaborate meals this cookbook recommends she plans three times a day, every day. It can’t be staying up all night with a colicky baby. Nope.

If only I fed my family the right things...

Now, since you want a well-nourished family, Betty Crocker lists some suggestions for everyday dinners:

“Roast Beef, Browned Potatoes, New Peas in Cream, Mixed Green Salad, Dinner Rolls, Fruit Ambrosia, and Yorkshire Pudding.”

It’s the least you could do.

And let’s not forget dessert! The “Cakes” section opens with the following fanfare:

“We now proclaim you as a member of the Society of Cake Artists! And do hereby vest in you all the skills, knowledge, and secrets of the “gentle art” of cakemaking.”

The first rule of the Society of Cake Artists is
don’t talk about the Society of Cake Artists.

And while whipping up those cakes, keep in mind:

“A butter icing is like a favorite cotton dress ... simple and easy to put on.”

Not this kind of dress...

Let’s move on to Main Dishes...

“Poorly made main dishes have come to have a bad reputation, especially as a substitute for meat."

[Forced smile] I know it’s not steak, but I’ll forgive you. This time.

Frankly, this cookbook is an embarrassment. It makes no recognition of or advice for women working outside the home. It is a useful resource to bolster the arguments in favor of the women’s rights movement, a movement that is still being fought today.

But I can’t address that right now. It’s 10:56 p.m., and I have to put on my cotton dress and start preparing tomorrow’s three course dinner for my husband and children, or they’ll come down with Ebola or something.

I think I need one of those Brandy Cappuccinos.

Remember Our Veterans - Even When It's Not Veteran's Day

Wars are controversial. We only have to look back a few years to remember this. We only have to look back a few years more to remember the Vietnam war, a war that polarized the nation.

My dad had no interest in fighting a war. But it didn’t matter; he was drafted anyway. He was 18.

He enrolled as a Marine, fought for a year, and returned home a changed man to a world that had changed while he was gone.

He doesn’t talk about his time in combat very much. Maybe he just doesn’t want to dwell on a bitter past, when the future has been so good to him.

To this day, every time he meets a Marine he greets him, shakes his hand, and has a few words.

For him, every day is Veteran’s Day.