dirt don't hurt

by Karrie McAllister I’ve been thinking a lot about change lately. Maybe it’s because I see and hear the word 5,873 times a day in the political campaigns, or maybe because I’m just finally realizing how much I am surrounded by it in my daily life. I’ve always considered myself a person who likes change. I was reassured of this when I went in for a haircut last week and told the beautician to “do whatever” and that “it was only hair, it would grow back.” She took a good five inches off of my eight inch hair, leaving me surrounded by a pile of my own clippings. Looking in the mirror at my new self, I smiled. “You like change, don’t you,” she said, speaking the truth. I was reassured of how right she was when I had the sudden urge to rearrange my house. I find I do this frequently, even if it’s just moving my kitchen table (which is pretty much a square) a simple ninety degrees. I also adjust the angle of my couch for no real reason, or maybe I’ll switch the end table from one side

It’s time to break out the itty-bitty socks and diapers again in our family, and in my current state of total and utter chaos, I’m glad it’s not me. It’s my sister-in-law, which will give me my very first chance to be an aunt, and my children to have their very first cousin. We’re all so excited we can hardly stand it. Not only will we be able to empty out some of the baby clothes we’ve accrued over the years, but it also gives us older, more seasoned moms, an opportunity to relive those glorious newborn days. You know, the ones where the kids are too small to dress themselves in ridiculous clothes, be picky eaters, and roll their eyes at your every word. Besides, it gives me a chance to reflect on all I’ve learned as a parent deep in the trenches of parenthood. There’s only so much to expect when you’re expecting, but what comes in that fateful fourth trimester—the one that lasts about 18 years – is the hard part. And even though my parental wisdom only gets me as far as the eleme

by Karrie McAllister Guaranteed, all of the scout alumni are finishing the title with “one is silver and the other gold.” In fact, some might even be attempting to sing the ever-so-popular round, even as a solo. I, myself, sang that around many a campfire when I was a kid, with the new friends I made way back in Girl Scouts. Someone would direct us in small groups by waving their arms around in an attempt to appear like a real conductor while looking more like a flying bird, and as sure as the s’more is tasty, we’d sing the round. And even though it was just a silly song so many years ago, I now know what real truth rings through those few simple lines. Today I had breakfast with a relatively new friend. We both amazingly ditched our children, leaving them in the fragile care of our husbands, and discussed the big issues in life over coffee over French toast. It was fabulous. The conversation, that is, as well as the French toast. It’s not often that two people connect on such an

You know how some babies just hate the feeling of grass on their bare legs? Not mine. She loves it. I just spread a blanket out in the lawn under the side maple, where the grass is sparse in the late summer weather. There are rocks and twigs and dry leaves, so I thought a blanket would be somewhat appealing. I hauled out toys and plopped little Annie down in the middle of it. It lasted for about, oh, two seconds. She crawled off and into the grass. Crunched leaves and waved sticks. And now she's digging a hole in the mulch, happy as a lark. The toys sit untouched as usual. Fischer Price should figure out how to market a stick toy or capture the texture of crunching leaves. Until they do, the real thing will work just fine. Probably even better.

You know how some babies just hate the feeling of grass on their bare legs? Not mine. She loves it. I just spread a blanket out in the lawn under the side maple, where the grass is sparse in the late summer weather. There are rocks and twigs and dry leaves, so I thought a blanket would be somewhat appealing. I hauled out toys and plopped little Annie down in the middle of it. It lasted for about, oh, two seconds. She crawled off and into the grass. Crunched leaves and waved sticks. And now she's digging a hole in the mulch, happy as a lark. The toys sit untouched as usual. Fischer Price should figure out how to market a stick toy or capture the texture of crunching leaves. Until they do, the real thing will work just fine. Probably even better.

There was a recipe in the newspaper today and to my suprise, it didn't contain dairy! I had to try it. And as usual, half-way into the preparations I realized that I didn't have half of the ingredients. So i tweaked here and there, and the result was pretty darn good! Dairy-free spice cabinet applesauce cookies 1/3 cup shortening 1/2 cup packed brown sugar 1 egg 1/4 cup cinnamon applesauce 1 heaping cup flour 1/4 tsp baking soda 1/4 tsp salt heaping 1/4 tsp of: cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardomom 1/3 cup raisins 1/2 cup chopped pecans Stir (not with a mixer!) everything together by hand in a giant bowl. Drop by rounded teaspoons on a cookie sheet and sprinkle with cinnamon sugar. Bake at 375 for ~10 minutes. Makes 2 dozen. MEANWHILE, make yourself some coffee and after putting the grounds in the filter, sprinkle in a little cinnamon and yes, cardomom for a fabulously simple spiced coffee! And if you haven't tried cardomom, I recommend it highly. It's insanely expensive

My husband left for work pretty early that morning, so I didn't get a chance to explain. But the email came through shortly after he arrived at his desk: "The heating/cooling people are coming out to check the furnace in a couple of weeks. It's making a terrible noise. I don't know why, because it's not even running, but for a few bucks, it's better to have it checked out and tuned up before the weather turns." And while I'm all for a pristine HVAC system, I had to laugh when I read his email. This was my reply: "Uh, well, that squeaky noise is the rock tumbler we set up in the basement. I heard it this morning too, only I thought it was a cricket." Besides chuckling at the emergency call to fix the furnace, I giggled a bit at myself for the whole rock tumbler ordeal. When I was a kid, an only child, mind you, my dad constantly shoved science down my throat. Example: for my 8th birthday I got one of those electrode kits where you fol

Tonight I went to my first PTO meeting. It was against my better judgement, but I went because I thought it best that I enter the school with a positive connotation, rather than the pesky mom I feel like I've sometimes become. But low and behold, there may be a reason I was there. One committee that is looking for volunteers is the playground committee-- a group of people who are going to help plan the playground at the new elementary school that is being built. Maybe this is my chance to put in a HUGE plug for "natural" playground equipment. What's natural playground equipment? Great stuff. Trees to climb and run between. Rocks to turn into mountains. Logs to walk across. etc. The creative benefits are enormous. A slide is a slide is a slide, but a giant rock is a pirate ship, a house, a giant egg, anything. The hard part is going to be convincing the others on the committee of this wonderful idea. I'm trying to figure out how many copies of "Last Child

Tonight I went to my first PTO meeting. It was against my better judgement, but I went because I thought it best that I enter the school with a positive connotation, rather than the pesky mom I feel like I've sometimes become. But low and behold, there may be a reason I was there. One committee that is looking for volunteers is the playground committee-- a group of people who are going to help plan the playground at the new elementary school that is being built. Maybe this is my chance to put in a HUGE plug for "natural" playground equipment. What's natural playground equipment? Great stuff. Trees to climb and run between. Rocks to turn into mountains. Logs to walk across. etc. The creative benefits are enormous. A slide is a slide is a slide, but a giant rock is a pirate ship, a house, a giant egg, anything. The hard part is going to be convincing the others on the committee of this wonderful idea. I'm trying to figure out how many copies of "Last Child