Cool Recipe

Here's a great recipe that my mom found in a newspaper article and sent to me. It combines two of my favorite food-related things: it's super-easy, and it's at least peripherally Greek. I hate to cook, so the easy part hooked me right away. And I'll eat anything that sounds like it comes from within 100 miles of the Mediterranean. It's got a touch of tanginess (thanks to some lemon juice and goat cheese) and the chickpeas give the texture some variety. It literally took me about ten minutes to make, and 8 of that was boiling the orzo. If you've never heard of orzo, it's not rice - it's a form of pasta made from wheat (sorry to my gluten-free friends, I haven't quite been able to make myself jump on the bandwagon yet) and you can find it in the spaghetti aisle. Though be warned - I had to look hard to find it. Anyway, here's the recipe; give it a try sometime for a nice change of pace and a cheap, easy side dish:

1.5 cups uncooked orzo

1/4 cup olive oil

3 tablespoons lemon juice

1 clove garlic, minced

15 oz can chickpeas, drained

2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano

Salt and pepper to taste

5 oz log goat cheese, crumbled

Bring a large saucepan of lightly salted water to a boil. Add orzo and cook, stirring occasionally, until just tender (about 8 minutes). Drain the orzo and set aside. In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, and garlic. Add the chickpeas, orzo, and oregano. Toss to combine. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Gently stir in the goat cheese. *Can be served warm or at room temperature.

Outed by a Baby Elephant

I'm a total sap. For some of you this may come as a surprise, but the people reading this who know me well are probably thinking, "Well, DUH!" I cry at movies, TV shows, and even sometimes a commercial if it's cute and the time of the month is right.

So while Disney on Ice was great, and the girls had a wonderful time, there was a part of me that felt disappointed when my favorite Disney character did not make an appearance.

I wanted to see Dumbo, darn it!

I think Dumbo is just about the sweetest movie I've ever seen. And I knew instantly why I loved it so much. The two main figures in Dumbo's life, his mother and his little mouse friend, loved him instantly and unconditionally. Mrs. Jumbo didn't care a whit how big his ears were, she just recognized him for the gift from God that he was and accepted him just the way he came to her. And as a child who was mercilessly teased when I was younger, I've gotta love the way she put those snotty older elephants in their place when they made fun of her son. To me, she typifies God's love for us, His people. We come into the world misshapen, broken, and deformed by sin, and He chooses to love us anyway. He loves us no matter what we look like, what our talents or abilities are, and no matter what other people say or think. There's just about no more touching scene in the history of film than when Mrs. Jumbo gathers Dumbo against her trunk, gently rocks him, and sings, "Baby of Mine." It makes me cry. Every. Single. Time.

And the mouse (whose name escapes me right now - haven't had enough coffee, I guess. I think it might be Timothy, so I'll go with that.) offers Dumbo friendship with no expectations of anything in return. He gives support, encouragement, and company when no one else wanted anything to do with him. Now THAT'S my definition of a true friend.

In contrast to that, I'm reminded of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, a story I've always disliked, even when I was little. The song gives it away: "THEN how the reindeer loved him..." The other reindeer only started being nice to Rudolph after he did something for them, after he made their life more convenient in some way. I never understood why other kids and adults seemed to love that song so much. I guess my cynicism was born at a truly early age! I never liked any of those "other reindeer" because even at 5 years old, I knew their friendship wasn't genuine. As soon as Rudolph stopped being useful, I thought they'd all drop him like a hot potato.

But not Timothy. Dumbo was of no use to him whatsoever. Indeed, he was probably a hindrance if Timothy had been concerned about "getting along" with everyone else. That's the only kind of friend worth having, in my book.

I'm glad that Disney never made a "Dumbo II". (Or if they have, that I've never heard of it.) I think that would ruin the tenderness and wonder of this deceptively simple story.

I wonder if I can get "Baby of Mine" on my iPod? *Sniff, sniff...*

Wading Back Into the Dating Pool

It feels strange to be writing about dating again. Not bad-strange, just...well, strange-strange. After all, I haven't "dated" anyone other than Craig in twelve years. The prospect is exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. But I'm ready to give it a go.

The one major source of trepidation I'd been feeling lately regarding dating had to do with how Tyler and Sydney would take it. I'd been searching for a way to talk to them about it for a few weeks now, when an opportunity presented itself just the other night. We were driving home from karate and Tyler started asking me all kinds of questions about past boyfriends I've had. So I slipped the question in as casually as I could: "Hey girls, how would you feel about me going out on dates?" and held my breath. Because in spite of my desire to meet someone new, I'd already decided that if my doing so would cause either one of them pain, I would hold off. To my surprise (and great relief) they were all for it. Tyler even said, "I think it's a great idea!"

So now I find myself back out there, filled with all the same questions and concerns as lots of other single women my age: Where do I meet a quality man? Is it acceptable for a woman to make the first move if she meets a man she's attracted to? Why do there seem to be tons of great single women at my church, but barely enough single men to fill a Toyota Prius? Does this mean I have to start wearing makeup to the grocery store again? Is it really true that all the good men are already taken? (I have to believe the answer to that last question is no; otherwise I might as well bang my head repeatedly against the nearest brick wall.)

While it would be nice to meet someone face-to-face, in the real world, I'm giving the internet a try as well. Because I'm not naive enough to think that dating in the real world works out like it does in the movies, where a girl "just happens" to meet a fantastic guy through no effort on her part and the two of them fall madly in love, move to a rent-controlled loft in Soho and buy a puppy. And internet dating has exploded so much in recent years that I have to believe there's at least one guy online at any given time who isn't a total loser, just like I'm not a total loser. (I do have my brick wall handy, though.)

I'm so glad I don't feel that silent, creeping sense of desperation I did in my early twenties - that I had to have a man in order to feel complete. God has filled that hole in my life quite nicely. So this time around I feel much more relaxed about the whole thing. I'm not in any hurry to get married again, though I would love to if the Lord chooses to bless me in that way. For right now, I'm content with meeting new people, getting to know them, and really taking the time to decide whether someone is Mr. Right, or merely Mr. Right Now.

Diary of a Crappy Mom

So we were driving home from church today (church, mind you, where I just spent an hour and a half singing praises to God and listening to His word) and Sydney all of a sudden just started crying in the backseat. I braced myself - or thought I did, anyway - because I knew what was coming.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

What followed was a tearful litany of how some boy in her Sunday school class pushed her, and a girl cut in line in front of her, and Tyler pushed her out of the way at the water fountain when she was thirsty and on and on and on and on. An updated version of her "everybody be's mean to me" speech.

So what did I, the understanding and ever-patient mother do? Did I offer words of comfort and understanding, pull the car over and give her a big "mommy-loves-you" hug? No.

I lost it. Totally.

This will probably sound like an excuse, but I need to give some background here. This kind of reaction is not a result of what happened to her father. She's been doing things like this ever since she could talk. I don't know why, but Sydney has always misinterpreted things that other kids do and say. She assumes every accident is a personal attack. She assumes that everyone hates her. She takes the slightest little incident and blows it up into monumental proportions - I've personally witnessed at least a dozen of these little "situations". This frustrates me to no end, because when EVERYTHING is horrible, and EVERYBODY is mean, it's hard to sort out the real bullies from the kids who are just standing there scratching their heads wondering, "What did I do?"

When I've asked her in the past what kids did to her that was so mean, all I usually get is, "I don't remember." That, and a daughter with major attitude for a good three hours. I've found it impossible to get to the bottom of what's really going on, or why she feels like everyone is ganging up on her.

Fast forward to today...when I heard her start to complain about "everyone be's mean to me" yet again, something snapped inside of me. We're driving down Powers and I proceed to lecture her (yell at her?) - a SIX-YEAR-OLD, mind you - with helpful little gems like this:

"You've got to stop assuming that the entire world is out to get you, because it just isn't true!"

"Do you want to have friends? Because if you do, you've got to stop treating other kids like they're always mean to you."

"What about your friends Liza and Mia? Are they 'mean to you'? No..."

And my personal favorite: "So what if that boy knocked into you on purpose? Maybe it's his problem - maybe he's just a jerk. Why can't you just get over it?"

Of course, when we got home I took her aside and apologized to her, but that still doesn't make my behavior okay. Last time I looked in the mirror, I was the one with the gray hairs, not Sydney. That would make me the adult. Chronologically speaking, anyway.

Some days I feel stretched so thin that I can barely keep my head together enough to get them ready for school and their lunches made. So when along comes crap like this, I just don't know where to put it. Or what to do. Nothing I've ever said to her changes her mind. No encouragement, no pep talk, nothing. It feels like she is bound and determined to believe that everyone on the planet hates her guts, and I am at a complete and total loss. Do I wait until she "grows out of it" as it's been suggested to me that she will? I don't know if my sanity will hold out that long.

I wish I knew the source of her behavior, but she's been like this since forever. Please God don't tell me that this is an inborn trait, a part of her personality that will never grow or change. She's a sweet girl at heart, very generous and empathetic (more so even than Tyler, I think) and I want to see her grow up to have lots of good friends and happy experiences. I hate to see her lock herself away in a cage like this.

Ugh...hopefully there will be no "Diary of a Crappy Mom, Volume II"...

The Side Hug: Legalism At Its Best

Ever since I posted the link of that ridiculous Christian "rap" group on my facebook page, I can't seem to get this topic out of my head, so I'm hoping blogging about it will do the trick.

Disclaimer (a.k.a. "I'm afraid people will stop talking to me if I say what I really think so here's an explanation that will hopefully mollify everyone"): I totally get that there are situations where the side hug is probably the best way to go. Issues with past sexual/physical abuse being the biggest one. Maybe you struggle with lust issues. Maybe your spouse struggles with trust issues. Whatever. I don't want to pass a law making side hugs illegal - side hug away if that's your thing. But I'm speaking generally here, intentionally painting everyone with a broad brush, because otherwise we'd be here all day (and no one wants that, trust me!).

For all my non-Christian friends, let's begin at the beginning. What exactly is a side hug? Instead of standing face-to-face with someone you wish to hug, the two of you stand side-by-side, much like you would if someone were taking your picture. You put your arms around each other's shoulders/waist so that no part of the front of your bodies are touching and hug that way. (Incidentally, there is also what I believe to be a close cousin of the side hug - the "A-frame" or "bottom-out" hug which starts out deceptively similar to a front hug, but where the huggers' pelvises are tilted outwards so nothing touches below the collarbones.)

I know the church didn't invent the side hug, but let's face it, we've elevated it to almost an art form. We say we want to respect the other person's boundaries, avoid any appearance of impropriety, "leave room for the Holy Spirit", etc. All of those are fine motivations in and of themselves. (Except maybe for the "leave room for the Holy Spirit" part - I'm not exactly sure why anyone would think that God needs us to make room for Him. After all, the last time I checked, He still is omnipotent and omnipresent.) However, I have issues with the side hug, and the A-frame hug as well. And since I love making lists...

• As someone commented on this subject in a blog I read...I doubt very seriously that Jesus "side-hugged" anyone during His time here on earth. He embraced them. As in, wrapped His arms around them and gave them a real HUG. And the Bible doesn't tell believers to "greet one another with a holy side hug". It says, "greet one another with a holy kiss". (I'll pause here for the collective gasp of horror and embarrassment.) Everyone back? Okay then. I press on...
• God created us with physical bodies that have real, temporal needs. I'm not talking about sexual needs here, people. I'm talking about affection, comfort, and reassurance. We've all heard about the studies of those baby monkeys who were taken away from their mothers and the only things offered to them for comfort were a wire "mother" or a "mother" covered in soft fuzzy cloth. Guess which one the baby monkeys picked each and every time? People need physical contact with other people. If we don't get it, a part of our spirit shrivels up and dies. I know that sometimes all it's taken to lift me out of a funk is for a friend to give me a genuine embrace.
• Even though I know the other person probably means well, and this might be more a reflection of my own insecurity, there's a part of me that still can't help but feel hurt when someone gives me a side hug. Especially someone I've known for a while. I wonder, "Do I have bad breath? Should I have showered longer? Do they think I have something catching? Am I really that disgusting?" In fact, the A-frame hug messes with my head in this way even worse than the side hug, because at least with a side hug your hips are touching.
• If you love your spouse and everyone knows it, and if you respect the spouse of the person you are hugging and they know it, then what on earth is wrong with a front hug? If you get twisted up into knots over an innocent hug between friends, then I think you need to spend some serious time examining the state of your own heart (or maybe your marriage).
• Christians like to think we're not affected by the way the culture around us sexualizes literally EVERYTHING. But I think the side hug proves that self-righteous confidence dead wrong. We've swung the pendulum so far back the other way that something which for centuries has meant a gesture of simple affection between friends is twisted into a kind of "gateway grope" leading straight down into the pit of hell itself.
• Where do we draw the line? Should smiling at people be banned next? After all, today it's just a smile, but tomorrow it could be tackling someone in the pew and sticking your tongue down their throat while the rest of us try to avert our eyes and not lose our place during "Rock of Ages".
• What about the issue of self-control and personal responsibility? Just because a bowl of m&ms is set before you, does that mean you have no choice but to pour the whole thing into your gaping mouth, dump-truck style? If you give someone a front hug, are your hips automatically rubbed against theirs by some invisible tractor-beam? As a dear male friend of mine pointed out after watching the link I posted, he and I have hugged many times, and never once do either of us recall any grinding going on.

Whew...I feel better now. In closing, I'd like to offer one last word of warning to all my friends, Christian and non-Christian alike: when you see me coming at you, be prepared for a front hug! :-)