Paying It Forward - A Note of Thanks

I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do. ~Edward Everett Hale

I want to say Thank You. Thank you to each of my readers who've followed our family's journey the last few years. And THANK YOU (large caps intended) for each of you who have helped my in-laws.

Our large medical expenses, coupled with the struggle to keep our children in parochial school, means we have very little left, if anything, at the end of the month. However, our in-laws, who live on a very limited income, have it worse.

Because of YOU - those people who have ever clicked on an Amazonaffiliate link - we were able to replace a needed appliance for them, something that would have been unthinkable to do before.

Thank you. You made a difference.

Dealing with depression: The battle never ends

For as long as I can remember, my husband has been a huge fan of Robin Williams. I've surprised him with two shows (a huge feat, considering both were in Indiana!) and we've seen practically every movie he's made.

The news Monday of Robin Williams' death hit hard in our home. But not for the reasons you might imagine.

For nearly a year (officially) but longer in reality, we have dealt with the roller coaster of depression.

The reality is, no matter how hard we try to control it, depression is an illness. And like any other chronic condition like diabetes, some days are better than others. And like any other chronic illness, depression can have its ups and downs, regardless of you being faithful to your medication or treatment.

In the months since my husband began medication therapy, we've had my husband slowly return to "normal." But the reality is there is a new "normal.' He's never truly returned to his "old self." Instead, we've learned to love him and his new temperment -a little quieter, a little more resigned - but continue to embrace the man who loves his family with all his heart.

We've dealt with a stretch of lows - a string of down weeks, peppered in with what we call "bad days." Being injured with a rotator cuff injury didn't help it. Being limited physically easily impacts your emotional health, especially if you have someone as independent in spirit as my husband. I can so easily see how someone with a chronic health problem - such as recovering from heart disease, such as Robin Williams was - could be brought down by the realities of their physical health.

I have no great answers for those who love people who battle depression on a daily basis. Simply pray. Pray with them, pray for them. And open your hearts and arms to them, even when they say they don't need it. Because as humans we simply do.

Letterboxing Love: Clue into this old-fashioned outdoor activity

Get a clue. Take a hike. And discover letterboxing on a sunny summer afternoon.

What is Letterboxing?

Letterboxing is kind of a live-version Clue. (Think geo-caching without the technology.)This English game date backs to the 1800s but came to North America only recently, boosted in part by an article in Smithsonian magazine.

I love this description tucked inside a letterbox in a local park:

"Letterboxing is an intriguing past time combining artistic ability with delightful "treasure hunts" in beautiful, scenic places. Participants seek out hidden letterboxes by following clues, and then recording their discovery in their personal journal with the help of a rubber stamp that's part of the letterbox. In addition, letterboxers have their own personal stamps that they use to stamp into the letterbox's logbook."

Brownie Girl Scout letterboxing badge

I first learned about letterboxing when I was a Brownie leader and stumbled on a Letterboxing Badge. My first instinct was "What the heck is letterboxing?" And I'll admit to being hesitant when my co-leader suggested we explore the badge.

As I'm the type of Girl Scout leader who tests everything out before she inflicts it on her scout troop, I did some digging and took my children on a letterboxing hunt in one of our local parks.

I had researched clues online for a couple of locations that were within one park, and printed them off for our reference. Some were very much a treasure-hunt kind of feel (Take 10 steps north, then 350 steps west along the trail.)

Other clues included QR codes posted online or narratives that were much more descriptive in nature, like this one:

There once were some ponies who were great friends. They used to all live close together but one pony moved far away. Due to distance and busy schedules, the ponies don't get to see each other very often. Sadly, the Ponies only get to spend one weekend each year together on Mackinac Island where they frolic and play all around the island gathering letterboxes near and faaarrrrr. Whew, their pony legs get tired walking around and have you ever seen a pony ride a bike?? Now there's a site! :) This summer, two Michigan ponies decided to road-trip down to "Indy" to see thier far off friend. The Ponies spent one whole day letterboxing in Crown Hill Cemetary there. (The third largest non-government cemetary in the country and home to some wonderful letterboxes.) Any time spent together is great, letterboxing together is amazing. Well, before they knew it, it was time for the Michigan ponies to head north again but before they left..... They decided to leave a box near their far-away friend to remind them of the great time they had together. Constructed in 2000, Independence Park is the 13.5 acre home to Indiana's first all-accessible playground area for persons with disabilities. The ponies loved the idea that at this park everyone can play together! (And take time out to find their box!)

From the Parking area, follow the paved path East until you come to the Welcome area. (A sign is posted noting it as such.) Going straight in from the path as far as you can, check behind the shrub just to your left. The Ponies left some math for you to do!

What we discovered - when we were able to find the letterbox (there were admittedly a few duds) were stamps and a log book for past visitors to mark their trail. My daughter took her ink pad and made a copy of the stamp in the letterbox in her letterboxing journal.

For kids who normally take long hikes at a set pace, it was definitely a different feel but made for an enjoyable and unique family afternoon!

Ready to get started on a letterboxing adventure? What you need:

• Time.
• Clues. Two sites to check out letterboxing locations in your city are http://letterboxing.org and http://www.atlasquest.com/boxes/directory/us/. 
• A rubber stamp.
• A small notebook or journal to mark where you've been along the way!

An InLinkz Link-up

Learning to live with depression: Our family's journey

Nearly three months ago, I had the worst moment of my life. My husband - after months of my worrying - opened up for the first time about the deep depression he was battling.

But to this day, I'm grateful. I'm grateful that he realized he needed support. I'm grateful he saw his physician to get medical attention, and that he didn't give up when his first medication didn't work for him. I'm grateful he sought the help of our EAP program, and he was brave enough to share with his boss his struggles.

I wish seeking out help for depression meant you flipped the magic switch and that things have become automatically better. And many days, it has. I so much more appreciate the days when my husband plays with the kids and I hear them giggling in the next room.

But I still brace the days for the calls when he tells me he's having a "bad day" - when the medications aren't working with his body's chemistry and he can't function as well as normal.

Getting through depression as a family is, truly, a family affair. Having tough talks with little kids who might not understand what daddy is struggling with is not easy. Keeping the support of managing the household, when you're trying to lift up your loved one - is a challenge.

But you can get through it. Day by day, hour by hour.  I know; my friends whose husbands have quietly suffered know too.

It takes prayer. And patience. And persistence.

If you're struggling in your family with someone with depression, please know I am thinking of you!!!

Giving and receiving: When your loved one is struggling

"To learn to give, you have to learn to receive," a sister told me years ago.


It is the toughest advice I ever had to swallow but one I think I benefit from each day.

My baby boy was just a baby, my husband was out of work, and the great recession was in its beginnings. Everyone was scared. And so was I.

This was the year that Christmas came from loved ones - and many secret Santas I'm still grateful for. They blessed us with diapers, clothes, toys for the children. I spent that Christmas day in half tears, devastated by the fact we ourselves couldn't provide things for our family. The Kroger gift card - giving us a week's worth of groceries - drove the point home. Never intended, but our situation was too raw.

I learned my "lesson" that year and despite our financial situation tucked away a few things over the year (clearance summer clothes, etc.), determined not to be empty under the tree.

But it took even longer for me to learn the real lesson. Whatever we have - no matter how little - is a gift from God, and we always have the chance to grace others and share blessings.

Here are some ways we've learned to bless others - and some tips for friends and family who are on the "other side" wanting to help:

Blessing When You're Broke

• Time and talent: I always try to remember that in our church they talk about gifts of time, talent and treasure. (Note the treasure is last!) Gifts of time and talent can make such a difference - whether it's donating time to a charitable organization or making an upcycled gift.
  
  In the last few years, while we try to recover from our financial upset, we have redoubled our efforts to help, whether it's at school, scouts or church. Not only does it provide needed volunteer support, but my children will remember that mom and dad were there! Maybe you can't donate to the Angel Tree; can you help wrap gifts or deliver them?
  
  The gift of time is simple too. While I don't do gifts for friends, we do invite them for cookie making - treasured time when everyone is so busy! Or offer to babysit one night for a dear friend.
• Use ExtraBucks wisely. As we don't have a lot of extra money right now, we are very careful in what we can donate. But I have recently realized that ExtraBuck deals can bless others. Now I buy nearly free diapers for our Gabriel Project at church or free foods or medications for the church food pantry. Every bit helps.
• Reach out. I believe people naturally want to help others but sometimes we need to give them the opportunity. A woman at church knew a family whose home burnt. She certainly couldn't help them in all the ways they needed, so she reached out. And we reached out. A few phone calls later and I had not only clothes for one daughter from us but also clothes for a son and decorations for a Christmas tree I had heard was being donated to the family.

Helping Loved Ones Who are Financially Struggling

• Don't be afraid to ask what they need...and gently encourage them to share. Do the kids need new shoes? PJs? Maybe they need diapers (or maybe cloth ones they can reuse?) or gas cards?  Be specific. Saying to let me know if you need anything, or asking what I can do to help may not get you far.
• Help meet emotional needs. While you're not a therapist, even something as simple as movie tickets and an offer to watch the kids for a night can give parents the emotional break from the constant worry of a situation.
• Be practical without feeling"practical." Sure you could buy groceries, but you can also buy a basket of locally made spaghetti sauces, breads and salad dressings (for example) from the winter farmers market or buy a gift certificate to a local produce delivery service. It makes the ordinary - cooking and worrying about feeding the family - feel a bit more decadent.
• Consider experience gifts for the kids. My mother one year bought the kids soccer and dance lessons at the parks department instead of toys. She likely even saved money, but more importantly, the kids felt a little more "normal" and for once weren't turned down when they asked to do an activity.
• Take the focus, if you can, off money. Invite them for a popcorn and Christmas movie night at your house, take them to a free or low-cost Christmas event, go caroling or looking at the Christmas lights, or invite the kids out for an afternoon of sledding.
• Remember, while they appreciate it, it's also hard to receive. Being in a position of constant worry is difficult, and it's hard to learn to receive gracefully.

Dating the demon Depression

I do not know the day I lost my husband. Was it when he lost his job in the recession? Another more innocuous moment? Was it a gradual erosion of his spirit, or just a moment that sucked him of his soul?

I've been with this man for two decades, but I have been dating someone for about four years. His name is Depression.

I don't know the exact moment Depression crept into our lives. But I know he's taken a larger and larger stronghold on us all. He's robbed us of what should be happy moments, of our sense of peace, our spirituality, our home. I lie awake at night and wonder how much longer my husband has before he is completely lost.

I don't know why Depression moved in. Was it genetic. Was it a chemical imbalance. Was it situational and is my husband stuck in a cycle. But the fact is, Depression is there, and he's not budging.

And we're working to kick him out.

I don't know what happened in that horrible moment a few weeks ago, when my husband broke his silence and admitted to his struggle of the last four years. And the darkness was deeper than I had ever dreamed.

We've been able to see his physician, get him counseling. But our war against Depression is a daily struggle. Some days getting out of bed is a struggle for him.

Yes, my home shows the scars of these last four years. Some day, the repairs will be completed, the clutter and chores overcome. Our bills from the moments when he didn't even process life will be eventually caught up too. One day, he'll be back in school, and we will be proud to call him a college graduate.

I worry though about the toll it takes on my kids. They see mommy's stress. They feel daddy's sadness. They are victims to the resulting chaos and the hectic juggle.

Some day, I'll be able to explain to them about Daddy beating Depression, and I hope they'll understand.

Getting their Goats

When I heard there was a goat farm in the middle of suburban Carmel, I had to check it out.

So on a hot summer Sunday, the kids and I joined members of Slow Food Indy at a tour of What the Goat Farm, located not far off of U.S. 31 and Main Street.

My son dived in and wanted to hang out with the goats in the barn, but my daughter was a bit reluctant once she heard the eager goats might jump up on her. She finally warmed up though, and was thrilled to find out they loved the asparagus that had bolted. The kids fed them handfuls of grass and asparagus shoots for an hour.

I have to admit, they are awfully cute!

I wanted to "complete the cycle" so to speak and show the kids what the goats could contribute. Since What the Goat Farm doesn't yet sell goat milk products or have a working kitchen, we decided to take our journey elsewhere. 

After giving the goats lots of attention, we went on to Whole Foods, where we splurged on all things goat. We examined the goat milk products in the dairy aisle and settled on a yogurt smoothie. My daughter bonded with the cheese guy as he gave her sample after sample of various types of goat cheese. The kids poured over the goat milk soaps and insisted on a bar for each. So it wasn't the cheapest excursion - as anyone who has lulled into the treats at Whole Foods knows - but the kids loved their day of goats.

Advent season: Slowing down

Advent was a season I had never given much thought to in years past. Beyond the candles burning at Sunday masses, an evening reconcilliation service and the promise of a Nativity scene, Advent didn't really register to me.

Until I started to slow things down.

First, I cut out a lot of clutter around the holidays. Over the years, I've worked most of my Christmas shopping to where my gift buying was completed over months, not weeks or days. Instead of a mad scramble to find something that "fit" the person on Black Friday, I slowly discovered gift ideas over the seasons. Come this Thanksgiving, I really only had a gift or two left to purchase, December birthdays included.

Further slowing my life down was my husband's unemployment/underemployment the last few years. Suddenly dinners out and shows seemed like unnecessary extravagances. Would I like to see Transiberian Orchestra? Of course. And some year it may happen. Just not this one. Instead I've begun searching for Christmas activities in our community that don't necessitate a $100 outlay. Like community Christmas tree services. Or a visit to Santa. Or the free day at the holiday trains at Garfield Park. Or the Nativity show at our parish.

Putting a focus on the Christmas season has helped our family put it back in the right focus. This year, I've made an ardent effort not to schedule non-Christmasy things on our calendar. Yes, we missed Scout night at the circus, and stayed home and played games and watched Rudolph. And other than a small family dinner and treats at the daycare, my son's birthday will be celebrated with friends after the Christmas business dies down. I don't know that either will be missed.

Instead of being stressed about errands, I can focus on my family. We can bake a batch of cookie if we want. Or read Christmas stories from around the world from the library. Or bring out more Christmas decorations. Or take them to play at the park for hours on a warm day without thinking about the "I need to do" list. Or (gasp!) even focus on cleaning our house for our Christmas company.

Is it tough to make a conscious choice to slow down during the Christmas season? You bet. But trading off the calendar items, the unneccessay errands, the stressed shoppers and children, it makes it all worth it. And I hope my family is happier for it.

Heirloom Guilt(y)

Heirloom guilt. I'm guilty 100 percent.

Somehow an item passed along carries an emotional weight. The table you spent Christmas dinners around. The painting your grandmother lovingly painted (even though you have eight others.) For those items, I struggle with their future.

I love the term heirloom guilt. It's just so right.

The box of paintings that I've yet to find a home for after five years in this house mocks me every time I enter my son's room. The stupid wooden ducks that do little but collect dust on top of our bookcase stay, year after year, because they're among the few things my husband has from his family. I have no idea from whom it came. But they stay.

Worse yet, I caught myself imparting this on my 3 year old the other day. The well-worn blanket that somehow made the return trip home from Kansas City? It's my husband's 37-year-old cuddle blanket. And it came home. And has joined my son in his bed.

It's easier to cope with items when they have a purpose. Like several of my grandmother's paintings. Or a quilt my husband's grandmother made. Or my grandma's dining room set, destined to pinch tiny figures, which later found a new home at my brother's house after a furniture swap.

For others, I struggle with the clutter they impart and the memories they represent. The box of photos and smaller paintings my grandmother made - which have taunted me to do something with them for five years now - doesn't diminish the love she had for me or the work she created. Quantity of things doesn't replace the quality of love.

Killer cantelope and arsenic in apple juice: What's a mom to do?

The news is depressing -- and it's not just from the political debate!

This week alone, I've come across three major news stories involving food-borne illnesses and health crisises in what's supposed to be "healthy" food. And that's with very little interaction with the media.

So how can you, as a parent, help prevent food-borne illnesses? Check out today's post at the Green Phone Booth for simple steps you can take to keep your families safe.

Bye, bye baby

Thursday I did the unthinkable. I said goodbye to the idea of a newborn. For nearly six years, I've had a crib, baby swings and car seats in my possession. And you don't realize how much space little ones take until you start gathering supplies. But after two years of telling my kids not to play in the infant booster seat or turn on the baby swing, it's time to quit hanging onto the idea of the nebulous infant #3. And the realization that my son is finally over the idea of sleeping in his crib, and he's finally comfortable in his "big boy bed," it was time for me to cut the cord. We loaded up the van and took it to St. Elizabeth's home. It's a surreal feeling knowing all that's left babywise is the changing table (now housing organizing boxes for toys) and some infant/toddler clothes, but even those are getting picked over too. It's like saying you're officially done, even though the winds of fate can change at any minute. But the uncomfortableness of the moment was gone when I arrived and visited with the staff. Saw the reminders of the families they serve on a daily basis. Heard how equipment and baby supplies come out the door as quickly as they arrive. The drop-side crib, which aren't being sold anymore? An improvement over the risk of SIDS from co-sleeping. The infant car seat, which you truly can't resell? Will go to a family so they can take their infant home from the hospital - and legally, they can't discharge until the family has one. It makes you sleep a bit better knowing your things will help another family grow together and create memories...safely.

Is "routine" like "balance" - just a dream?

Six weeks into life as a real two-income family (as opposed to that one or 1.25), we're starting to find our way. OK, truthfully, it's a lot of baby steps. And missteps at that. My kids are slowly getting used to Dad being out for odd hours, missing mealtimes and bedtimes and weekends, and being there (quite grouchily) for the morning routine. We've battled meltdowns and arguments and trouble at school and daycare. But that too is finally slowing down. Yet I'm still feeling unsettled. I haven't had to think about cooking dinner for nearly three years. That's a long time. And it's tough when the kids walk in the door at 6 to start fixing dinner. Laundry piles up faster. So do the dishes. Not to mention the clutter. Bedtimes take longer too, as do strangely the mornings. Truthfully, I feel like I've replaced one stressor - underemployment - with another: trying to keep the house afloat. And this is one thing I should be able to control but it just isn't happening. So I ask: Is "routine" just a pipe dream? Is it like the wishful "balance" - just something placed in front of us to never quite feel satisfied?

Not too late

You can give a lot of excuses why you don't have guests over. Perhaps the house is a mess. The children are out of sorts. It's a bad time at work.

But some day, we will all run out of time.

This week, a good friend of mine found out her father has pancreatic cancer. Untreated the average life is 12 weeks. He's looking at options for extending his life with the most quality he can. Instead of worrying about their kids' gym meets or spelling tests, they're trying to cram a lifetime of memories until the time his treatment begins.

Today, I'm staring at my house. Laundry baskets scattered in the living room. Papers on the kitchen table. Toy room, well, being used well. A couple coming from my church tommorrow for marriage preparation. Work incredibly stressful, with our big project next week. And my daughter having had a rough week at school, having made a few bad choices in the way she reacted to situations.

So I make the call. And invite my parents up for the night. Because we're not too busy, or too messy, or too frazzled. We need to make our memories now, before we wish we had.

Chestnuts roasting and other Christmas classics

The children are nestled snug in their beds, and it's nearly 7 a.m. That in itself is my Christmas Eve miracle.

We're looking forward to four days as a family, a rare treat.

I know a lot of people seemed surprised when we'd tell them we were spending the days just the four of us, but we have never had a quiet Christmas just as a little family. Not in 14 years of marriage. Not even the year I came home after a c-section on Christmas Eve. (Though I didn't mind sharing my son, that Christmas was exhausting.) And while I'm happy to host or travel to see the grandparents, as my husband's aunt put it, "little ones should be in their own homes for the holidays and in their own beds to wait for Santa. That's where the best memories are made for them!"

This year, we want to make some memories for them. And yes, we've done Christmas activities at school, at church and with others, but now it's time for us. We've watched classics like The Christmas Carol (not the best thing for a 5 year old with an active imagination before bedtime, in retrospect). Baked cookies. Meeting the rush of shoppers at the store before this afternoon's winter snow. Slipping back into our old pasttime of noshing our way through Christmas Eve day, rather than sitting through a meal. Avoiding the hurriedness and excitement of traveling and sitting through Christmas Eve service in favor of a much more settled-down version tomorrow morning.

I've got chestnuts, found at an apple orchard, which we'll try roasting for a recipe. (One less thing to explain - "What are chestnuts?") I've got a gingerbread train, given to my son for his birthday, that we may assemble once the excitement settles down. I've got carrots for our snowmen we'll likely make (when the kids aren't hurling snowballs at mom).

But mostly, I've got time.

In the end, I don't care what we fix for Christmas dinner, what's opened from under our tree or what we end up doing. The important part is we reconnect as a family. And that, as my 5 year old continues to tell me, is what Christmas is about. Family.

Merry Christmas!

Counting my blessings

It is one thing to see families lined up against a wall, waiting for food, in Depression-era photos in your history book.

It's another thing to see them on a weekday morning on your way to work.

It's tough to see a mom, in not the warmest of jackets and jeans, huddling to keep her little girl warm as they wait. Especially when she's not much bigger than your baby.

It's tough to give people dignity that they have every right to be there, while respecting your privacy.

And it's tough to not walk away crying.

Yes, yesterday morning rocked my day. I'd found a place that collected clothing for families in need, and wanted to make the most of any outgrown kids clothing and coats we had collected. And as I dropped the bags off that morning, I couldn't help but pray for them. And count my blessings.

For every frustration I have about stretching my funds to pay my bills, my heat is on this chilly morning.

For every frustration I have about my kids not wearing their hoods, they have hoods to wear on their coats.

For every frustration I have over lost mittens, my kids have mittens to lose - and I can, in a moment of desperation, buy another cheap pair at the Dollar Spot.

For every frustration I have over my kids refusing to eat, at least they have something to refuse.

For every frustration I have about my job (and Lord knows, I have my share), I've got one.

For every frustration I have about my messy house, at least I have a roof on my head.

For every frustration I have with friends or family, I know they're behind me.

And for that, I'm grateful.

Offering holiday support to unemployed loved ones

The holiday season can be a happy time, but for friends and family who are unemployed, it can be a time of anxiety and stress. Today, I'm guest-posting at Life as Mom on how you can help your loved ones during this Christmas season.

Weekend worth remembering

Four states and nine hours separate my children from their cousin, so they're only blessed to see her once or twice a year.

Thank goodness for fall break.

This time, they made the trek eastbound, and despite the fact my house still wasn't in tip-top shape for guests (but then, is it ever with two kids?) I consider the fact it's 7 a.m. and all other parties are asleep a minor miracle.

Take Wednesday, when my toddler woke up at 3 (a most unholy hour of night) to ask if his aunt and cousin were here. The next day it was 5. And naptimes? Forget about it. It's been a losing battle, though one I've largely stuck to at least trying to make happen.

But late, late Thursday night (OK, technically Friday morning), it happened. They arrived. And it's been a whirlwind ever since.

We started slowly, with the painstaiking process of making the world's best cinnamon rolls, forgetting that it's a four-hour process! But every kid got their hands dirty, from rolling the rolls (the girls) to punching the dough (perfect for 2 year old energy!). We went to the Children's Museum of Indianapolis, a rare treat that we could afford thanks to an awesome Groupon, to check out all things girl (a Barbie exhibit) and boy (dinosaurs and trains) and to experience the kids' first Haunted House (during not-so-frightful hours).

We went to the Broad Ripple Farmer's Market and scarfed down amazing pretzels that come in braids of three pretzels each - that my toddler knows are at this market and starts asking for the minute we arrive. We joke about the Bloody Mary mix in the bag, which we nix, and savor the chocolate milk from the local dairy.

We burn off our energy at the local park, where the girls opt for swings and mom somehow gets sucked into playing truck - which translates to: Sit on the step, immediately get up, get off the truck, get some mulch, put it somewhere and gt back on the step. Repeat for 30 minutes. I figure it's good for the thighs.

We've gotten our share of movies and Great Pumpkins and have toyed with carving our own pumpkin. We've had our share of minor squabbles and glimpses into funny conversations between the kids. I only wish 10 months didn't separate those.

Today will be another day of memories, and tomorrow they make the trek home. But really, the time is too short, and the breaks too long. Sometimes, I wish you really could click your heels three times to get to Kansas...

Jupiter, fog and other fall wonders

Being with a young child is a chance to rediscover everything again. And this fall is no different.

Take today, for instance. We started the day being amazed by the fog dancing across the ponds by our home, and watching the wispy clouds float across the road.

"Can we touch it?" our 5 year old asked. Running late for school, I promised that the next foggy morning we'd try to find out.

Tonight, we were treated by the bright glow of Jupiter, about an inch or two below the moon by the naked eye. The kids were amazed by it, despite our pathetic attempts to remember anything from college astronomy. My 2 year old declared he would "climb up a ladder and touch it, and then jump back down."

Or the other evening, when a family walk became a hunt for the largest, the pinkest, the most oddly shaped leaves we could find, our kids expressing joy at each find, carrying fistfuls of stems all the way home, only to toss them in our yard.

It's little moments like these that make you savor fall even more.

Recipe for keeping the holidays real

Holiday stress has been more real for me this season than at any other time I can recall. Yet I can't recall a more wonderful long weekend.

Throw in the hassles of traveling 10-plus hours with children, their excitement just because it’s Christmas, the challenge of juggling schedules and no less than four time zones’ difference among the family members, and the worry of making sure that the rest of the family’s expectations matches yours (yes, even “greener” parents worry whether the kids are going to feel that Santa stiffed them this year).

And for a little extra spice, toss in an ear infection and pharmacies closed for the holidays.

Top it off with a blizzard, about-zero wind chills, snow that drifted hip-deep in places and popped exterior panels out of vans, a “check engine” light that glared surreptitiously in the night, a niece that was stuck a city away and highways that were closed.

Yep. It was a recipe for a Christmas disaster.

But here’s the thing about Christmas 2009. It was one of the best holidays we’d had in a long time. (And it was nearly as good as two years ago, when we brought my baby boy home on Christmas Eve.)

We watched my little guy with his new-found obsession with his train set, even without enough wooden tracks really to play with.

We watched my daughter prance proudly in her new gymnastics leotard, jumping up and down with joy when we told her that her grandparents got her gymnastics lessons when she returned.

We teased my niece – who arrived home literally after stomping through snowdrifts to get to her mother’s car after the worst of the snowstorm had passed – about her very toothless grin.

We saw aunts and uncles and cousins who hadn’t gotten together for a positive reason since, very likely, the Christmas we left Kansas City.

We watched the Chiefs lose on TV. (But that was no surprise.)

The road conditions and wild winter weather brought an added blessing: An extra day of togetherness. No racing to cram in Crown Center, the Plaza and other holiday activities. Just hanging out with one another. While I’m happy to finally be back home and in my own bed, sometimes a little slowing down with family is worth the wait. Happy holidays!

Birthday blessings

Yesterday I marked the moment where my husband says lovingly I became "halfway to 70." Talk about a heavy moment, when you put it into those terms.

I wish I could say I had a fantastic party - friends together over a good meal and a better glass of wine or two. But I'm just fine with the way it turned out.

Our day was spent in the nuttiness involved with getting ready for guests, chasing two kids and harvesting what was left in our garden before it all froze. Sure, it makes you feel tired just reading that!

Sure, I had a stressful morning. My husband had class and then work - but then, at least the next two weeks he has work. The visit to the grocery store unnerved me. But at the point of becoming broken, my toddler looked up at me, with a huge grin, and proudly announced: "Birthday."

When my brother arrived first from Chicago, the kids clung happily to their uncle, which afforded me the opportunity for a quiet moment cutting herbs, pulling two purple carrots that made it and enjoying the silence until it was broken by a little girl wanting to color with her chalk. I was able to relax somewhat while I worked on washing my oregano and drying them in the oven. I had a great conversation with my brother as we washed and chopped apples from my babysitter - the bags of which will come in handy for some much less stressful apple streudel making for our Christmas gathering.

And after my parents arrived, they joined us for a huge bowl of pasta carbonara - which I was thrilled to have all of the ingredients for without making a second trip to the store (and some of which I'd just grabbed from the backyard) - and a comforting slice of pumpkin pie a friend of mine had made just because.

So it wasn't a wild way to celebrate #35. But, surrounded by the people who love me in their own strange way, it was fine with me.

Oh, and here's the recipe for the pasta. It was found in a friend's magazine, and everyone in the family enjoyed it - it's definitely a keeper!

Carbonara Pasta
1 box spaghetti
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 oz. bacon
1/2 c. walnuts, chopped
4 cloves garlic (or more), diced
1/2 c. sherry
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 eggs
1 c. Parmesan
1/4 c. fresh parsley

Cook spaghetti according to directions. Meanwhile, in large skillet heat the oil. Brown the bacon until crisp. Add walnuts, garlic and red pepper flakes. Cook 1-2 minutes, stirring often. Add the wine and cook 2-3 minutes more. Drain the pasta and add to the skillet.

In a small bowl, whisk eggs with 1/2 c. Parmesan. Remove skillet from heat. Pour egg mixture into the spaghetti and mix. Top with rest of cheese, parsley and black pepper.