Popcorn, Pie & Malt Shop

Welcome to the Fortier Five Popcorn Pie & Malt Shop!

Today on the way home from our latest adventure I started thinking up a grand scheme to keep the kids busy and maybe surprise David too. I started thinking out loud, sharing my plan with the kids. We'll have a pie shop. We'll make a pumpkin pie and when Dad comes home we'll invite him to have a piece of pie at our shop. We'll sell malts, too. And since the kids had popcorn on their minds, that was added to the list. The first hurdle was explaining to the kids that we're not really selling pies to anyone, we're not setting up at the end of our driveway as if we're opening a lemonade stand. The kids were actually shocked, I guess I somehow didn't clearly express the idea of a PRETEND pie shop. Once we worked that all out ("no, we don't have to worry about the people not being able to see the sign if we hang it up inside, no the people won't be coming in through the garage... there won't actually BE any people") the next hurdle was who has what jobs. And who gets to make the popcorn??? (They REALLY had popcorn on their minds.)

The kids worked on banners and decorations and I cooked up a menu, printed it off and hoped the four copies I printed would last long enough for David to see them when he got home. Then, grocery shopping. I looked through this week's paper to see which ingredients were on sale and found, guess what? Pumpkin pie was on sale. For $4.00. Last week I had called Grandma Marian to ask for her pumpkin pie recipe. She doesn't have it written down because... its on the Libby's Pumpkin Pie Filling can. Oh. Ok, anyway, at the moment when I realized I could purchase a whole pie for $4 and avoid the hassle of trying to find all the ingredients in the store, bring it home and make a huge mess in the kitchen, and then hope and pray the whole thing turned out, I was sold. $4 was SO worth avoiding all that other stuff!

So we went to the store. Guess what? When you let a four year old hold the pie while you're waiting to check out, can you guess what happens to that pie? Guess. Did you guess yet? You guessed right. She dropped it. And the pie didn't just fall out of her hands onto the ground, it somehow also fell OUT of the box and landed face down on the ground. In front of a million inquiring eyes, all the busy shoppers walking by and thinking to themselves, "I would never let MY four year old hold the pie. I would know better." Yes, you would know better, and I know better too. But I really thought it might be ok. Anyway, there I was, scooping pumpkin pie off the ground with my bare hands, and I sent Archer by himself to go find a new pie. He ran. Yes, judge now. "I would never let MY seven year old run off to the other end of the store by himself. I wouldn't let him RUN in a store." Whatever. A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do. He got the pie. We bought two pies and told the cashier to throw the mangled one away.

After coming home and getting groceries put away, having supper with Dad, then sending him to the bedroom to stay out of the way, we set up shop. Banner taped up, roles rehearsed, and menus in hand, the kids invited Dad out to their shop. Our hostess Shelly seated us, Waiter Joe (Archer chose a new name for the occassion) took our order and then minor chaos ensued when I left the table to plate the pie, make the malts, and send all the food out to the table. Success! Everyone enjoyed the pie and malts, and Dad happily settled up with hugs for the kids.

Thank you for visiting the Fortier Five Popcorn Pie & Malt Shop.

Come again!

Pumpkin Farms

Shell & Best Friend w/ Mrs. Miller

Last week I went with Shelly to Swan's pumpkin farm. Lots of fun, I got to meet Shell's best friend S and I even got to sit with them on the bus. And they let me talk to them. ;-) The kids of course had a great time.

Today Elijah, Shelly, Archer, and I went to Jerry Smith's pumpkin farm with some other moms and again we had a great time! This field trip was a little less structured than the trip last week. Last week we were herded from station to station, entertained, ushered on to the next spot, etc. Today the moms followed the kids and only very loosely directed where we were going next. Eventually we ended up at the playground and the moms sat on the outskirts while the kids ran, screamed, and generally acted like monkeys recently escaped from the zoo. Well-mannered, obedient monkeys, of course!

I'm really enjoying Mops (Moms Of Pre Schoolers) so far this year, and I look forward to the new friendships we'll form and memories we'll make with our kids in tow!

Sometimes... Kids can be so rude!

Me: That's a nice shirt, Shelly, where did you get that?
S: It was just hanging up. Did you have a shirt like this when YOU were little?
Me: I don't remember any of the clothes I had when I was a kid.
S: Its ok Mom, you don't HAVE to tell me.
(Its like she thinks I'm trying to keep a secret about my fashon choices when I was her age. Seriously. Do YOU remember what you wore when you were four?)

Earlier today...
S: Archer!! Mom's gained weight!
A: AGAIN???
S: Yeah! She can barely walk!

In defense of my children's rude behavior, we did play this little game last night...

Archer grabbed me around the waist and lifted up his feet off the ground, picture him hanging on me. I tried to walk, but could only take a step or two before I proclaimed, "Gosh I've gained SO MUCH WEIGHT! I just feel like its slowing me down, I can't even walk any more..." I went on and on about this extra weight I was carrying around. Which of course encouraged the other little weight in my life (Shelly) to join the fun and grab onto me, hanging on and trying to drag me down to the ground. This quickly went from a ride (hang on Mom while she tries to walk) to a challenge of strength, would they be able to topple me to the ground, make me losoe my balance and come crashing down on top of them? I'm happy to report that I won. But they're getting bigger and stronger every day, I'm sure it won't be long before they can join forces to overcome me!

In other news: Two days ago Elijah said "MA." And I cheered and shouted and said, "say it again say it again!!" Sometimes now he says... "MA" Probably not actually calling me. But you can bet I'm encouraging him with everything I've got!

The Garden is Where??

"I wish we could see the garden of Eden. Its in a hotel, I think. That's what he said. He did. I'm not lying."

I know the older brother is a figure of authority in her life but its bewildering to me how much authority she gives him, just because he's there. Just because he acts like he's in charge and acts like he knows everything. That's big shoes to fill, Arch, keep it up! :)

Sweet Time

Quality Time. What does that even mean? It sounds expensive. It sounds like you should check the seams, look for loose threads. Check the craftsmanship. Do the corners fit neatly together?

No, of course not, there are no perfect corners in this land, no garments without loose threads everywhere. In this land of family, parenting, learning and growing, there are loose ends all over the place. The corners never fit neatly together. Leaky faucets abound.

In this season of busier-than-ever schedules I've found little gems of time and I cherish each moment more than ever before. When Shelly is at Awana on Wednesday nights, Archer and I laugh and play and work on Cub Scout assignments. Sometimes we're a little frantic, trying to sign off as many pages as possible in the short time available. Sometimes we just think of silly things to tell each other and there's no plan. No structure. Is that quality time? It sounds so formal, but what we do is so easy, no work required.

On the mornings when Shelly has school I catch myself thinking, "This is your time with her, she won't be here later." And we do workbook pages, or she writes a grocery list in pictures for me, or we talk about her best friends and what happened at school. Because she'll be gone, I don't wait for later to listen to her stories. Because when they get home later they'll want to play with each other, I stop and listen more closely to what they're telling me now.

When the baby is snuggled in my arms in the middle of the night and I'm marvelling at the wonder of those tiny little hands that God created, and the next moment I'm wondering if he needs his nails trimmed. Shelly crawls onto the couch next to me and I listen to the sleeping sounds of my family, is that quality time? Or another sweet-as-honey moment to cherish?

Whoever came up with that word to describe all the moments in a day we share with those we love was too scientific, too rigid. Surely there is a better description. But one word could never capture it all.

Clearly, my cup is overflowing with blessings too abundant to count.

Typical Mom Morning

This morning I took Arch to the bus stop because its raining. On the short drive home I formulated a little fantasy about coming inside, laying down on the couch and going back to sleep while Shell and E played quietly together. That little fantasy ended the moment I walked in the door. As I was taking off my shoes I realized the bottoms of my pants were wet from walking outside, then I stepped in a cold puddle with my socks and David announced Shelly needed help in the bathroom. No time for changing wet socks or pants. As I gave her a bath, and then E, I noticed the bathroom floor was wet. Puddles everywhere. Front door, bathroom, bedroom. Baby spit up in my bed. My pants legs are still wet...

I've been thinking about how I'd be more efficient and accomplish more if I had a schedule. (I don't even know what I mean when I say "accomplish more," more what?) Then I start thinking about how there are so many variables that there's just no way to schedule most things. Laundry on Mondays. Mopping on Tuesdays. Whatever. I'm back in fantasy land. The minute I try to plan something like that, a kid gets the flu and we're doing laundry around the clock to disinfect everything. Too many variables. Puddles everywhere. Today's mopping day. And laundry. No naps for me, we've got work to do!

I'm only allowed to go IF...

When Archer had his first field trip, I remember sitting in the boss's office asking for a day off. I remember saying, "I know there will be many more, but..." He's a nice guy, he let me off. Archer was thrilled that I was coming with his class to the pumpkin farm.

Archer's First Field Trip

When the permission slip came home for Shelly's first field trip I was SUPER excited for her. I asked her if I could come with, thinking she would GLADLY invite me along. "No!" Pleeeaassseee? I begged pitifully. Finally she agreed to let me come. On one condition. That I don't talk to her or bother her. Sigh. I guess I'll just tag along behind, I'll be quiet and try not to bother my grown up daughter as she strikes out on her first field trip. (Why am I having flashes of parents following their kids around on college campuses, as high school seniors decide where they're going to be spending the next four years of their lives? Slow down, time!)

Just an Excuse

I'm beginning to think that our cooking days are just a poorly disguised excuse to get together and eat cookies for breakfast. I mean, there's cooking going on, but it hardly seems to be the point anymore. And I'm ok with that.

Our Cooking Days started when I was pregnant with Arch and wanted to prepare by having some meals in the freezer. So I called my mom and sister together, we cooked up a storm and all went home with chicken pot pies and other things to stock our freezers. It was so much fun that ever since then, once or twice a year, we have a cooking day. Yesterday Denise made an apple pie and shared only the blissful aroma that filled up the house. She took the WHOLE PIE home with her and didn't share any with us. Oh well. She forgot her recipe on my counter, I'm thinking of holding it hostage till she promises to make a pie for me.

Mom made Tater Tot Casserole and (in the true spirit of Cooking Day) shared one each with Denise and me.

I made Turkey Breakfast Sausages and half of them were eaten before my family left. So much for stocking up. We also made cookies, pita bread, and... Was that it? Well anyway, the real point of the day wasn't stocking our freezers. It was hanging out together, laughing, sharing stories, chasing the kids around the house. And eating cookies. By noon we were all starving and I warmed up some potato soup, we stuffed our tummies full and everyone dispersed, back to their own houses. I love you girls, thanks for coming over. And thanks Dad for being our photographer and technical support specialist for the day!

all photos by Dad

Can you believe Denise had the nerve to show up in the exact same outfit that I was wearing? Seriously, we didn't plan it. I know you don't believe me. But we didn't!

Because...

Because the house felt like it might be approaching a state of order and organization (and we don't want THAT to last too long!). Because we had three hours till bedtime and no definite plans in sight, and the kids were starting to bicker. Because the kids have been asking for MONTHS if we can set up the tent and I keep repeating the same answer, "Maybe sometime. Not today." Because I had a little extra energy and...

Most importantly, because I pray that the Lord shows me the most urgent needs to be met, the most important things to accomplish today. And that He gives me the energy to do those things. And I had this thought cross my mind, "Let's do the tent now." Now. I went and got it. Set it up. (That's half the adventure, isn't it?) Had the kids vacuum the sand and leaves out of it. (That's the next half of the adventure...) And now all three are playing happily.

The game started as tigers in a zoo, and keeps evolving and changing, a new game every five minutes and lots of laughing and squealing. And another memory or two of, "Remember that one time when we set up the tent in the living room?"

Because setting up a tent in my living room was the most important thing to do at that very moment, not fold laundry (believe me there's plenty of it!), dishes (plenty of those too!), or anything else. Because the most important thing Right Now is playing with my children.

Archer's Turn

Now, Archer's turn for a funny story.

Arch sat at the table working on homework, but he kept covering his face and moaning, "That SMELL! I can't concentrate because of that SMELL!" He often says he can't concentrate because ____ (there are a thousand reasons), so I didn't take him too seriously. I said, Well, I cleaned the oven today, and I'm making chicken stock, so maybe you smell one of those things. "No, it smells like DIRTY SOCKS" he informed me. It was strange that the chicken or the oven would smell like socks, but I let it go. Why argue.

A few minutes later he needed some help with his worksheet and I walked over to him and walked into an awful cloud of BAD SMELL. You know in cartoons how they picture the aroma around a skunk as a green cloud? Yeah, that's what I walked into when I got to Archer. Bad. And it smelled like Really. Dirty. Socks. I looked at him, I looked at his clean-looking feet, and I said, "Archer, please don't get upset, but I think its your socks that smell bad." He didn't believe me, until he put his feet up to his nose. And nearly passed out. "EWWW!!! I can't believe its MY socks that smell that bad!" We had a good laugh about it, and I was relieved he wasn't mad (it can so easily go either way), he removed the offensive socks and we continued on with the homework. Laughing all the way.

My Great Cooking Skills

Shelly walked in the door after school today and said, "Are you cooking supper now?" No. "Oh. Then why do I smell smoke?" The sad thing is, she's not so far off. The oven smokes really bad, it needs to be cleaned, and when I cook a chicken the entire house fills up with smoke. I "self cleaned" it today, so hopefully I can get it actually cleaned and it won't smoke anymore. For a little while, anyway. Till my next experiment in the kitchen.

For another commentary on my cooking...

"Mom, please pass the bowl of grease." Trying so hard not to laugh... Shelly, did you mean gravy? "Oh yeah. Gravy please!" David and I chuckled over that the entire evening, but we really tried not to let her see us laugh, she hates thinking we're laughing at her. Maybe I need to take cooking classes or something. I mean, a little smoke in the house is one thing, but serving my family bowls of grease? Where do I sign up for some lessons?