What am I thinking?!

It's Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving and here I am sitting at the computer. Woman, what are you thinking!  Shhh... the baby is sleeping, the kids and husband are off at the aunt and uncle's.  They are cooking the first of three turkeys (the balutan turkey), cleaning, and surfing in between all that.  So I have some stolen moments for contemplation...

Dinner tomorrow will be at the cousins' house with some sailors who aren't going to their own homes and some friends.  We are bringing sides, which are started, and pies, and a second turkey, which will be cooked in the morning.  I've baked some sweet potatoes, made the cranberry relish and sauce, and will make Gonga's yeast rolls in the morning.  I might be making corn pudding, but I think my sister-in-law wants to do it, and I'm happy to oblige.  Tonight, after we serve Thanksgiving dinner for homeless and old people at church, we'll make pumpkin, apple, and one other pie - maybe Jefferson Davis, maybe Shoofly, maybe sugar cream... something different.

The day after Thanksgiving, we're going to Fresno for the state cross country meet.  My oldest son's team is now one of the top 25 Division 5 CC teams in the large state of California.  That is a good place to be - no stress for the championship race Saturday morning, other than my son really wants a PR.

He also PR'd on his latest SAT. He took it once back in January, and did well, but the idea was that that was his practice test.  This time he scored an 800 in the reading section and a 700 in math, even though he did little in the way of preparation. I'm tickled pink for him. Where else can I brag but on my own little blog?

Other points of pride - school conferences went well. I have been worried about the academic achievements of my 3 youngers, but their teachers all assert that they are doing fine, and all three were complemented for being kind to children who are...not as easy to get along with as others.  My youngest (save the baby), who did awful on her Iowa tests, was praised by her teacher for being a friend to all in a class that has a few cliques already in third grade.  So as long as she continues to be a compassionate little person, I will gladly overlook her not scoring highly on her quantitative assessments.

I am also pleased to report that my oldest daughter did great in volleyball - her team pulled together to get 2nd in their tournament.  Her science fair project is coming along, and she has been a great babysitter lately - other than the night she let Baby gnaw a carrot.  A piece of carrot lodged in Baby's throat and she scared everyone with her gagging, but she hacked it up.  So babysitting class is in order.  Our fourth son, who also doesn't love academics, has a starring role in the upcoming Christmas play. Apparently, he can sing and dance - gifts he didn't receive from his parents.  And one of the pre-school moms came up to me the other day to tell me how kind he was to her little boy - the fifth graders buddy up with Pre-K for activities like a Thanksgiving program.  My kid apparently helped serve and take care of this little 4 year old. So even though I'm constantly after him to clean up after himself, to stay off the computer, and to settle down and do his homework, some lessons are sticking with him.

Sons number 2 and 3 also have earned praises - they are class presidents, their grades are good, and they both stuck with sports that they didn't love, but participated in because they love being a part of something.  And they have integrated well into their school in this second year.  All three high school boys - all three very different in personality - were invited to a birthday party last weekend with a 40's theme. They had to dress up and use good manners. The birthday girls' parents hired a dance instructor to teach swing dancing.  It sounded like so much fun, I wish I could have gone.

So this is my thankfulness post.  The kids are doing great, praise the Lord.  Not that I don't still lie awake at night worrying - about them going away to college, about the "girlfriend," about their progress, about their happiness, especially as we anticipate moving again in the summer.  One of the kids was complaining that we have favorites because someone received some special treatment, and I reminded him that love doesn't divide - it only multiples. But as love multiplies, so do the potential swords that can pierce your heart.   Last night we watched "Into the Wild," and I lay away thinking about how I would feel if one of my kids wanted to run off into the wilderness and live alone.  We need each other, I would plead. I need you.  I want all my chicks around me.

I worry that this itinerant life will teach them to resent staying anywhere for any length of time. We used to go to see family for holidays like Thanksgiving, but the longer we live far away, the less I even consider it as a possibility.  My aunt just sent 10 copies of the book she wrote about my grandfather (one for each of us and an extra).  It's a beautiful book, and an interesting read, I think. I read bits about our ancestors in the Revolutionary and Civil Wars aloud to the kids last weekend in the car, hoping to inspire them to feel connected to their extended family and their own family history.   Perhaps if they feel connected to a bigger family picture, they will make the effort in their grown -up years to come back to visit often.

And so even though I am taking a little break in preparations for tomorrow right now, I'm hopeful that our small celebrations will help the kids feel like they belong somewhere together.  On Sunday we'll revive more traditions when we'll pull out our Advent wreath and Jesse tree and set shoes out next week for St. Nicholas.  I'm looking forward to Advent this year - everything - house and soul  - seems to be crying out for a good clean sweep and a renewed focus on essentials after a very busy fall winds down.  I'm grateful I have time to take a moment to refocus on gratitude:  the kids are doing fine, I'm doing fine, my husband is fine, we've got plenty to eat and drink and wear and plenty to be proud of.  We live in a beautiful place, we have friends and family who love us, we have abundant opportunities for learning and admiring beautiful things.  It's a good life.

On teaching and learning

I have posted my grades for my composition and service learning classes.  Only one student contacted me to say he was upset about his grade, but this was a student who missed 3 classes out of 10 to go on field exercises. I made the mistake of allowing him to continue the course without seeing much of his work.  He did turn in almost all of the assignments when he returned, but they were not collegiate work.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if this student has a learning disability of some sort. My mistake was not encouraging him to drop the course when he told me about his planned absence.

My other "lessons learned" from the semester: You can't cover 16 weeks of material in 10 weeks, even if the hours in class are supposed to be equivalent (5 hour classes - we actually met for 3 -3.5, and then they were sent home with assignments to make up for the extra hour or two of class).  These students needed more help with the basics - grammar, sentence construction, paragraphing. I also should have assigned more short writing assignments earlier in the term to assess what they needed instead of backloading the course. Live and learn.

Unfortunately, "live and learn" with my children doesn't work so well.  My younger kids just received their Iowa Test scores.  When my older kids took standardized tests, they usually scored in the 95-99th percentile.  My youngers are still at the top side of average, but about 10-20 percentiles lower.  And the youngest was below average in math.  Is this because I didn't give them the attention they needed when they were younger? Or is it a natural aptitude issue?  My youngest is the most social of all my children. She is very athletic, very outgoing, and very self-confident, but she isn't at all interested in reading or doing math facts, and regularly falls asleep when I read aloud at night, which I've been trying to do more lately (working through Redwall, which 3 out of 4 listeners recommend). The older kids loved books.  Did I do something wrong with her?

Now with this new baby, I have the chance to put to use all of those "lessons learned" from the past years.  I will read every day to this child and play with math manipulatives! She will eat a well rounded diet low in sugar!  She will only play with handmade wooden toys and Waldorf dolls! (I bought her a Nicki baby before she was born...) We will find a balance between attachment parenting and Ferberizing!

Uh oh, she has already had bites of pumpkin pie and frosted Cheerios and whipped cream.  Her siblings are dying to give her bites of donuts and ice cream.  One sister gave her a lick of lollipop.

And several days have slipped by without any reading.  All she wants to do is eat her books, and we had a busy weekend.

And I'm not sure I can justify buying her a $100 doll for Christmas when she is going to like wrapping paper better than anything. I've had to fish bits of paper out of her chipmunk cheeks more than once. And lately she wants to nurse all night long. . .

I doubt my ability to be a better parent just because I have experience.  My experience with other children has taught me only that every child is different.  I still have to learn what this child needs.  She is beginning to show her will - I am sure she will let me know what she wants! Will she be a scholar or social or both?  Experience has taught me I can't make her into whom I think she should be.  I have to start at the beginning again and get to know and love her and have the discipline and desire to meet her needs, which probably aren't so much organic playthings, as much as love and dedication.

The reading this Sunday was the parable of the talents.  To whom much is given, much is expected.  We certainly have been given much.  But in my older age, I look more for the safe answer - I'm more likely to be the guy who buries his money than the guy who invests and makes double, especially in my middle age.  A friend and I were sharing stories of our twenties and I was trying to remember what possessed me to pack up and take two toddlers and go back to graduate school while my husband was on deployment. How did I make that decision? It was easier to take risks because I didn't know how hard it was going to be. And to be honest, I don't remember it being that hard.  Now I think too much about the difficulties of packing everyone up. I dread changing schools with the kids again.  I'm taking an online class about teaching online classes and finding it a challenge. Everything seems harder than it used to be.  Is this perspective the wisdom of experience or the fear of tribulation?

Obviously the latter. These fears are proof my faith is weak when it is put on trial.  Experience should have taught me that God provides. But still I think I must rely on my own knowledge and effort.  Even teaching this class - again and again the lesson is that good teaching isn't about dumping content into these students, but about responding to their needs. Trying to find the right books and essays and exercises isn't as important as trying to help these students put their thoughts into precise words and intelligible form.

As Advent nears, I know that my goal should be trying to clean up my soul, to let go of anxieties and selfishness that prevent me from trusting God and loving others.  The days are growing shorter in hours and in number.  I catch myself squinting as I think of my to-do lists and tell myself "Relax your face!" That's what my coach used to yell when I would squint while running.  When I heard him, I would consciously relax my eyes.  Then my stride would lengthen and my hands unclench.  As the tension of fighting pain slipped away, so would pain, and I would run faster and easier.  Likewise, when I let go of my will to do the right thing and just pay attention to what is in front of me, tension slips away. I can actually get something done instead of fretting about it.  Instead of wrestling with trying to predict God's will - how can I possibly know what God's will is? - I need to do what is in front of me, and stop trying to find the right/best thing.  Love what must be done, instead of trying to predict or guess what is the best thing to do. Use the talents instead of burying them out of fear of losing them.

And now I must wash the dishes because the pile in front of me grows.  I will wash the dishes out of love, I will, I will, because my family loves when they can get a drink out of the sink without maneuvering a stack of pots and the counters are clean.

Minute reviews

I heard a little blurb about this new video from OK Go on the radio a couple days ago.

These guys make me happy.  Watch the ending.

Since the video was filmed in Japan, I am reminded that I finished Haruki Murakami's Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage.  I mentioned that I was finding it a bit slow, but I stuck with it and was pleasantly surprised.  Instead of being a novel about a rather lackluster, whiny character drawn toward suicide, (Tsukuru Tazaki, whose name, unlike that of his friends, does not have a color word in it), it was a novel about forgiveness and reconciliation.  Tsukuru finds himself abandoned by his best friends when he is in college, but as a nearly middle-aged adult, he starts to fall in love and realizes he cannot love this woman until he makes peace with the four friends he loved in high school who betrayed him.  So he goes in search of them.  He finds out why they cut him off, and what they are doing now.  And by reconnecting, he is healed from the wound that had scarred his heart and prevented him from being generous with love.  It is a restrained novel, not surprising from a Japanese author, but it is full of deep emotion.  I will be looking for more books by Haruki Murakami the next time I go to the library.

How to make regular school more like home school

Our elementary school is undergoing a credentialing review and just issued a survey for parents to complete.  I spent some time crafting this response to the last question, "What can our school do to improve its academic excellence?" so I thought I would share it here, partially so I remember what to look for the next time we look at schools:

"I am always a fan of encouraging more reading and writing from students.  Language arts seems relegated to workbook pages - perhaps each quarter students should be required to read a classic or challenging for their ability book and do a project/write about it.  Also, I thought outdoor school and CIMI were great programs for the middle schoolers - maybe the school could host a science day with experiment stations or do something local like going to the beach to study tide pools or going to hills to study local plants and animals for the younger kids to get them engaged in learning about and studying their local ecosystems.  A last recommendation for middle schoolers would be to have either a career day or career "chats" with parents/business people/scientists/engineers/local artists/writers/lawyers/government employees/ etc, so that the students can get interested in a variety of career options/see how their studies will help them in the future/motivate them to work hard in high school and look for opportunities to be volunteers, interns, or entrepreneurs themselves as teenagers."

That last bit is because as my senior applies to colleges, I'm realizing how little he knows about what kinds of jobs are out there, and I'm seeing how much colleges value a little real world experience - a summer job, a project selling something or providing a service (lawn mowing), regular and consistent volunteer commitments.  And those things have value in themselves for teaching teenagers about responsibility and managing money. (It's been a good experience to have our teenagers pay for many of their activities and stuff out of their lawn mowing/job money.  We pay for school related expenses; they pay for fun.  Unfortunately their lawn mowing money dried up here, and our second son didn't find a job this summer, but he didn't try very hard in between his mission trip, family vacation and football practice.  So his fun has mostly been free stuff - beach day, playing his guitar or cards with friends, or having a friend over for a movie here instead of going to the theater, when he has time after schoolwork, football and family stuff.)

Really, I think school would be better if it were more like home school - groups of students small enough that individual preferences, strengths, and weaknesses can be addressed, opportunities to do lots of hands-on and experiential learning like going to museums and concerts and battlefields and oceanfronts.

The advantage of school over home school is the concentration that students and teachers apply at school - my kids seem to have fewer distractions at school than at home. They also seem to do better with a solid routine and spelled-out expectations that I had a hard time providing at home. My kids also work harder when they are participating in programs like Academic Challenge Bowl and essay contests and just in-class competition in general.  My nagging them at home was not an encouragement to do well.

This credential is from the Catholic schools association. I was happy to commend our school for its Catholic identity which shines because of weekly mass, three times a day or more daily prayer (morning, noon, and before they leave for the day, plus sometimes additional prayers in the classrooms), art and statues in the classrooms and building that celebrate Catholic saints and wisdom, and celebration of holy days and Catholic traditions. Religion class and opportunities to receive the sacraments and encouragement to be active in the parish and community were additional ways that our school exudes its Catholic identity.  And while the teachers are human and some are better than others, for the most part the teachers seem to role model an active, loving practice of their faith.  I've been very happy with our little school, other than some minor quibbles - mostly about fundraising and the occasional questionable choice about things like music that the kids dance to at the Fall Festival. Nothing overtly scandalous, just mediocre and thoroughly secular.  The school has a mix of parents who choose it for its Catholic identity and those who choose it because it is academically rigorous and safe. I wish there were more at the school for the first reason, but ideally Catholic schools would work on the hearts of the parents who aren't religious, in addition to the kids.

So we'll be continuing to send the kids to school at our next duty station, about which we should be finding out soon. I'm beginning to get a little twitchy - time to either move or to find out we are staying so that I can commit to activities and relationships.  In a new location, I always begin with a desire to jump in and make connections and form friendships, but as the tour goes on, I begin to feel myself pulling away, even at this early stage.  I don't feel a need to exert myself to sell raffle tickets like I did last year. I haven't joined any new committees or jumped up for volunteer jobs, partly because of the new baby, partly because I have enough volunteer jobs, and partly because I don't need to use those opportunities as avenues to meet more people. I'm sure I'll be back at it next fall. A friend in the DC area just emailed me about deadlines for choice schools and magnet programs - already thinking ahead to next fall as the first quarter finishes up.  DC is a potential next stop for us, but if we happen to stay in a mild to tropical clime, I wouldn't complain... I just don't particularly want the desert outpost that is going to get assigned to someone in my husband's peer group - or him.  Then again, I've always been pleasantly surprised by how much we end up liking our duty stations, so we may find something or someone to love even in a remote oven.

Briefly noted

I've had multiple moments lately where I think, "I should write a note about that on the blog," but when I have a moment to write, I forget about it or the issue is no longer interesting to me. So here I am with a moment to myself because something was cancelled, so I have some time for notes to self:

When next summer rolls around, I need to prod our second son who is a junior into thinking about his future. We are in the throes of the college application process with our oldest, who has been laboring over his essays for an early decision application to his number one school choice. He just turned them in with the deadline only a couple days away.  Writing is painful for him. And it was painful to me to try to help him.  First, he didn't want any help.  And secondly, I didn't really know what the admissions counselors want.  The prompts are ambiguous.  I have been trying to engage the teen-aged boy in conversation about them, but I'm his mom. He doesn't want to talk to me.  And the essays shouldn't sound like they weren't written by a 41 year old woman, but by a 17 year old boy.

Even more agonizing to me than trying to get him to write and revise is the fear that his heart will be broken.  This school is not just his first choice; right now it is his only love. He hasn't really even looked anywhere else.  He's a smart kid, a hard worker, active in extra-curriculars, a little weak in the creative writing area, but otherwise well-rounded.  He'll do well no matter where he goes.  He's earned an ROTC scholarship, which is not necessarily my first choice of ways to pay for school, but it opens doors that fiscally would be locked for us.  So I'm in knots hoping he'll be accepted and we can be done with college applications for a year.  And I want really badly to rewrite his essays for him...

***
Note on future career: Over the past months of prepping for college applications, I have learned about the field of educational consulting.  People are getting paid to tell teenagers where to apply, what they need to do to apply, what they need to do to get financial aid, proofreading essays, and suggesting ways to make themselves interesting.  And the pay is good, as in $150/hour good.  It would be a pretty fun job.  By the time I get about half of my kids into college, I'll be an expert.

***
On teaching - Back in the groove! After some speed bumps at the beginning of the school year, things are buzzing along (busier than "humming" but not "roaring") and we're in a routine of a schedule that is busy, busy, but not overwhelming.  My one night a week gig is rolling along, and I finally feel like I've got a handle on the rapport in the classroom.  I really like teaching older students. They want to learn, they want to talk about ideas, they see connections. They may not have very good grammar skills, but they participate in earnest. I should be grading papers right now, but I was inspired by Bearing's apology for blogging as a combination of classic diaries, letters and philosophical treatises to record a few thoughts.

I was again offered another class at a different school that would require getting a babysitter, although it would pay better than this evening job when the kids are with Dad.  I would be in a more traditional campus setting  and have colleagues to share ideas with, whereas now I'm at a little regional outpost.  I considered it. Planning wouldn't be as laborious after teaching this past semester, and only the baby would be left with a sitter, so my husband wouldn't have to take on as much in the evening. But the classes are bigger, the term is longer, and I'd have to recreate my syllabus and all the internet links and posts on their server. I'm going to stick with the smaller commitment.

I'm always wrestling with the conflict to find balance between doing something I really enjoy and keeping up with the responsibilities of home life.  I have always felt pulled between having one foot in the world and one foot in the home.  I found a prayer card for St. Gianna Molla my mom had given me when I found out I was pregnant this last time and took some comfort in the idea that she was a good mother and a professional and a saint.  I am hardly a professional, and my kids would debate my status as good mother, and I'm leagues away from sainthood, but she is a role model for integrating different roles.

***
My mom's group at church is reading a Kimberly Hahn book for book study called Cherished and Chosen.  It is not very exciting.  I have a hard time reading it because nothing in it is new nor gracefully put.  It does make me think I should have a planner though. I love the idea of planners.  I just forget to use them.

***
And Hahn's book is good for reminding me to stay focused on priorities.  I had a conversation with my sister the other day about relationships that are distractions.  They take time and energy away from the people we need to be caring for because they are usually more interesting than dishes and laundry. (read: Facebook and the Internet) Housework has been suffering anyway because of my coursework and having a baby who likes to be held.  My prayer life has also withered, except for all my pleas of intercession.  We have so many sick friends and friends with suffering marriages.  We also have a lot of pregnant friends.  Life and death. Cross and resurrection.

***
The recent articles in favor of the right to die overlook the redemptive value of suffering.   But to see value in suffering requires a belief in redemption, I suppose. I worry about the world my kids will inherit that is so full of the gospel of feeling good. People are so afraid of pain.  I am, too.  But my mom once told me, in a conversation about giving birth, to focus on the idea that labor is productive pain. Something good will come out of it, like a jolly, fat baby.

A little Seabee with rabbit ears

***
In addition to the mom's group book study, we've been going to the marriage group book study once a month.  Again the reading isn't anything new, but it provides a moment to revisit some of those ideas that inspire us to plow through the grunt work of marriage: the schedules, the chores, the finances are all secondary to the work of two souls teaching each other how to love. Keeping the house clean and everyone fed and clothed is easier when it's an act of love and not a duty.  Life requires undergoing a little pain for the good of others.

***
We had 25 cross country runners over to dinner last week, and I had to do a thorough scouring in preparation. Of course, the house is a mess again, but for a minute it felt clean. And because the crowd was a bunch of kids I like, cooking 8 boxes of pasta and 5 gallons of sauce wasn't a chore.  Making 100 meatballs might not have been my husband's favorite way to spend an evening but he didn't complain.  We thought we might have leftovers, but those skinny runner kids can put away the carbs. And they entertained us in return.

***
I've decided it's harder to keep small houses clean as opposed to big houses. Or maybe there is a golden mean. But clutter control is a constant battle in this little house.  Just a few things out of place makes it seem out of order, whereas in a bigger kitchen no one would notice a few extra dishes on the counter.  And surfaces get touched more when there aren't a lot of surfaces to touch.  Time for a garage sale this weekend! Although we gave away a truckload of stuff after our move from Guam, we've been amazed at how much clutter collects in a year.  Trying to practice detachment...

***
Other than reading the Hahn book, I haven't done a lot of reading. I really enjoyed a book I got for the boys by Peter Kreeft about surfing and faith: I Surf, Therefore I am. And I read a book my daughter recommended called Found Things.  I've read through a lot of essays for my class, but I haven't read an adult novel in months. Checked out a Haruki Murakami book from the library but can't get into it.

***
Excitement on the cross country course: a live wild tarantula! This is almost as exciting as the bear we saw in Yosemite.

Don't let it get the baby!

The cross country and football and soccer and volleyball seasons are winding down.  Fall sports have kept us running. But after the initial pain early in the season getting used to the schedule, it's been nice to have a routine and the events themselves are fun entertainment.  But holidays are around the corner...
***
Now I've got to run: my to-do list awaits: need to make finishing touches on costumes, make some calls for a silent auction at the military base, dishes, laundry, get ready for the garage sale, and grade papers. I need another 24 hours in a day.

Oh, Yosemite!

Ah, nothing like a weekend at high altitude to clear the mind, to refresh the body, to air the soul!

When I was growing up in the midwest, the "mountains" were the Smokies, those rounded hills covered in deciduous trees which are absolutely stunning in October, probably right about now, and in the spring, when they are dotted with purple redbuds and the barest touch of the bright vernal green of new leaves, and then a week later, the fluttery white blossoms of the dogwoods.

Then one summer we went to the Colorado Rockies, and I realized that here were the Purple Mountain Majesties of song.  Snow capped and everything even in July.  It took two days of tortuous driving in a loaded station wagon to reach them, but the pain of sitting so close to siblings and stuff for so long made the glory of the Rockies even greater.

But if the Rockies were awe-inspiring, I knew from National Geographic that even farther away existed the magnificence of Yosemite, with its craggy cliffs and crashing waterfalls.  The west seemed full of great and powerful forces of nature. My elementary logic believed that the farther away the mountains were, the more grandeur they possessed.

Well, now we are only four hours from such grandeur, but it took us over a year to pack up and witness it firsthand. Perhaps I still suffer from an idea that those sites memorialized in Nat Geo and  adventure books are far, far away.

Is Yosemite every bit as majestic as I imagined? Yes and no.  The vistas are breathtaking, but the falls are dry from the drought.  The cliffs are immense. The night sky is brilliant.  The thin air is brisk.  The hikes are challenging.  But there is something a little commercial about the National Park experience.  Yosemite is not as crowded as the Grand Canyon, but we were there during the off season.  Because there are no campfires allowed in the area where we stayed, we ate dinner at the pizza place near one of the visitor's centers, where the Notre Dame game (robbed!) was playing, which thrilled (and baffled) my husband and sons.  And we stayed in Curry Village, in a heated permanent tent with beds - a style of camping I could get used to...  Our neighbors of 14 years ago set up the reservations. They now live in central California, also.  It is wonderful to meet up with old friends.

So we weren't really in the wilderness that John Muir writes so eloquently of.

But we did see a bear!

And I loved every minute of watching the kids scramble over lichen covered granite, compete to find the biggest pine cone, mug for the camera in front of gigantic sequoias, and cavort along the trails pretending to be porcupines, pumas, and lost explorers.

Definitely worth the lifelong wait.


From John Muir:

In every walk with Nature one receives far more than he seeks.

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.

The power of imagination makes us infinite.

There is a love of wild nature in everybody, an ancient mother-love showing itself whether recognized or no, and however covered by cares and duties.

My brother-in-law said it is easy for everyone to be an Ansel Adams in a place like Yosemite.
But it is not, even with digital cameras.
This photo was taken as we were leaving the park at daybreak. I took about 3000 others.

Knowing what I want

Last night, children, husband, and I converged at the house about 7:15 pm from different practices and events. We were all hot, tired, and hungry.  My husband grumbled because I didn't order pizza, even though I thought about it. I grouched back because I had been listening to a screaming baby for the last half hour and couldn't make a phone call in the car.

Then he pulled lobster out of the refrigerator.

Ah, fresh lobster for dinner! Elegant, refined, succulent and delicious! I'm supposed to be thrilled.

But all I saw was a fishy mess ready to be made, complaints from the kids ready to be heard, and my own hunger unsatisfied.

I wanted a nice soft-boiled egg on toast, not lobster.

But then another kid called because he couldn't get a ride home, and I volunteered to go get him. I'd make my egg when I got home.

On the way to the pick-up, I applauded myself for 1. Walking away from a ticking time bomb of an argument.  2. Knowing what I want.

Being decisive is a victory for me.  I am now mature enough to admit that I don't really like shellfish.  It's chewy and unsatisfying.  I do like shrimp, and I have had scallops perfectly prepared once.  But although I love a good piece of salmon or trout, I do not prefer crustaceans and shellfood.  Perhaps it is a cultivated taste that I haven't indulged in enough, but I like to think I have given shellfish a try over and over, on the East Coast, on the West Coast, in the midwest, in Europe, in Japan, and on Guam.  And I am still halfhearted about it.

I'd rather have a tasty, filling egg over lobster caught the night before by my resourceful, lobster-trap-loving brother-in-law.

But when I got home, the lobster was cooked with some fusilli in olive oil and rosemary, so I lined up behind the kids with my plate and was served my portion, joined them at the back patio table illuminated by the full moon and ate it. And it was good. A little chewy, yes, but the rosemary cut the fishiness. My husband, his good spirits and blood sugar restored with protein and pasta and a pumpkin ale, delighted in the compliments from the kids.  I didn't withhold my thanks and admiration, although I didn't pitch in on the clean-up. (The baby!)

So now I add a third lesson: 3.Let the person most concerned decide.  And 4. Eat what you are given. And 5. Give thanks for a husband who likes to cook, and kids who can do the dishes.

Meanwhile, my decision making faculties remained moderately impaired.  An article in the WSJ last week perfectly described my husband and me - he the satisficer, me the maximizer.  He can make a decision on the fly, without regrets or thinking twice.  I usually have to investigate all the options, compare prices from several providers, look into alternative solutions, etc.  Together we balance each other out.  We have some big decisions looming that are tougher than what's for dinner, but if the past 18 years are any indication, we'll make them eventually and all will be well.  Sometimes at the end of the day, our hard edges are exposed and our faculty for understanding is weakened by hunger and exhaustion, but a good meal and a moment on the back patio with a bright night sky and a full stomach (and sometimes full glasses) does a great deal to restore that balance.