Seven

Dear Grady, 

Today you are seven. 

I’m not quite sure how that happened. One minute I was rocking you to sleep in your nursery and the next minute I was listening to you read Charlotte’s Web to Poppy.  

You love to draw. You spend hours drawing every day. You fill page after page with superheroes and knights and Ninja Turtles. One day I was admiring your artwork and I remarked that maybe you would be an artist when you grew up. “I’m already an artist,” you corrected me.  

You have a sweet, gentle heart. You care deeply about fairness and being kind. I’m always cringing as you pick up other people’s garbage in the park (“it’s my job to keep the earth tidy!”) and wishing you cared as deeply about the state of your bedroom floor as you do the playground.  

Your favourite band is still the Foo Fighters but you’ve branched out to other music too. When “No Roots” by Alice Merton comes on the radio when we’re driving you tell me to turn it up, “it’s our jam!” You’re king of the car dance, and somehow we always end up in a pile of giggles. Your enthusiasm and your belly laugh are infectious. Nothing makes me happier than hearing your laugh, Grady. Nothing in this world.  

You’re an amazing big brother to Poppy. You look out for her and worry about her and take pride in teaching her new things. I know as long as you two have each other, you’re going to be okay.  

Happy birthday, Grady. I love you bunches.  

Meal Plan 07/23/2018 - 07/27/2018

This week is supposed to be a hot one so I'm trying to stick to BBQ and Instant Pot meals. Grady has slowly started accepting more foods and I'm trying not to jinx it by making anything too adventurous for him. I'm kind of over this whole preparing multiple meals for multiple people every single day thing and would happily eat cereal with blueberries for dinner every night but that's not going to fly. I've got to get my head back in the game. I'm looking for tips, tricks, and recipes, please and thanks.

Monday: barbecued cheeseburgers served with garlicky green beans.

Tuesday: BLT sandwiches on sourdough toast.

Wednesday: We’re meeting friends for a picnic so I’m thinking chicken salad sandwiches and fresh fruit.  

Thursday: Grady's seventh birthday! I KNOW, RIGHT?! I don't know how that happened. He’s requested pepperoni pizza from his favourite pizza place and chocolate cake so pepperoni pizza and chocolate cake he shall have.

Friday: Pulled pork done in the Instant Pot served with mac & cheese. 

What's on your menu this week?

Blueberry Oat Crumble Bars

We're fortunate enough to live five minutes away from a blueberry farm. Our fridge is overflowing with blueberries. We've gone through twenty pounds of blueberries in the last two weeks. I'm not exaggerating. Poppy has had some truly horrific diapers.

These bars are rich and buttery but the blueberries add a fresh element so they're not too heavy. They're great with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or dollop of whipped cream, but they're also a lovely summer breakfast with a little yogurt and an iced coffee. These bars are versatile is what I'm saying.

Blueberry Oat Crumble Bars

Ingredients
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups old fashioned oats
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
3/4 cup cold butter
4 cups fresh blueberries
Juice of half a lemon
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/4 tsp salt

Directions
Preheat oven to 375F. Lightly grease 9" x 13" pan.

In large mixing bowl, mix together flour, oats, brown sugar, baking soda, 1/2 tsp salt, and cinnamon. Cut in the butter until mixture is uniformly crumbly. Reserve 1-1/2 cups mixture and press the remaining into the bottom of the prepared pan.

In another mixing bowl, gently stir together blueberries, lemon juice, granulated sugar, cornstarch, and 1/4 tsp salt. Pour blueberries over crust. Sprinkle reserved crumbs over top of the blueberry mixture.

Bake for 45 - 50 minutes until blueberries are bubbly and top is lightly golden.

Screw up

At any given time, I am entirely confident that I'm screwing up my kids in one of a thousand different ways.

It's not even of a question of how I'm screwing them up. The how doesn't really matter. What matters is that I care deeply about raising them to be good humans and sometimes it feels impossible. 

Some days we eat three square meals supplemented with nutritious snacks. Some days we wake up with the sun and play outside all day and read books together and tidy the house and have a bath (including washing our hair and cutting our fingernails and toenails) and go to bed at a reasonable hour.

Some days I throw a vegetable in their general direction and I huff and puff as I trip over the mountain of dirty socks piled in the middle of the floor. There are too many screens and not enough protein and my voice gets progressively higher and higher until I'm squeaking like a furious mouse to "brush your teeth or go straight to bed and let the sugar-bugs eat them!" 

I hope they appreciate how much work it is raising them to not be tiny psychopaths. I hope they remember the in-between times. The nights where we all pile in the big bed and take turns giving each other back tickles before bedtime. The movie nights and pancake breakfasts and kitchen dance parties. 

Mainly I hope they grow up knowing how badly I wanted to do it right for them. And how many times I screwed up, fell down, and made a mess of it all, but kept going because they're worth it.