They are Only Young Once

I say it so often, I expect the expression to be old and tired by now. But, it is not.

On certain days when 4pm rolls around I feel old and tired myself. I am not either.

We go bouncing along. The children should see their mother on a pogo stick. Perhaps they should see their mother on a pogo stick more often. But, that might be a little hard on mother’s back.

When my sister chastised me for not owning one, she felt pleased that she would now have an appropriate gift for my 40th birthday. My first thought was that I must certainly plan to wear it out before my 80th. Yes, by then I ought to need a new one.

In the meantime, I must remember that they are only young once.

And, they should sit along a country road with their aunt, waiting for their cousin's school bus.




They should pick out a brand new and incredibly awesome bike that they will have to grow into, only to show off that they don't need to grow into it, and later scrape their knee and not even cry, because the bike is not even slightly too big for them.

They should try something new and go faster than their mother prefers.

They should investigate a cat, up close.

Go on, crawl after it.

They should make rediculously large cookies with their aunt who uses a 1/4 cup scoop when Mom only makes them tablespoon size. Well, at least she USED to.

They should play outside.

They should stay up past bedtime to watch their Mom and Uncle and Grandma dissect a 4 1/2 pound lobster in a buttery orgy of culinary goodness. On second thought, they shouldn't watch that, but it sure made Mom very happy.

They should explore an old playhouse.

They should see animals without paying admission.

They should keep that honest-to-goodness smile on their faces.

They should take a stroll with Grandma through the historic district, if they can keep up with her. After all, they are only young once.

Some of them make it last a lifetime.

Yes, that is a rare picture of Mr. MIT Mommy. He borrowed Andrew's bicycle. He is sleeping and doesn't know that I took this picture. Shhhhh.



This is what it looks like when the pogo stick wins. With a little more practice, I will be better than my niece. (Please don't tell her I'm practicing. I think the element of surprise is my only hope).

New Years' Resolutions

We cut our New Years’ cake and went around the table.

“I’m going to get better at making things from wood. You know, like the picnic table in the backyard. And, I want to get better at cooking dishes from all over the world,” Andrew said.

I have to admit that his resolution was not entirely expected by me. But, we do try to allow them to set their own goals. Knowing that my childrens’ resolutions generally require my assistance on some level, I kept mine pretty simple.

“I’m going to find a new vegetable dish that this whole family likes every month.”

My children did not seem very excited. I reassured them.

“Yes, I know. You don’t love vegetables. But, we don’t try new things with vegetables very much. You LOVE smoked pork. If I bought a frozen pork chop and microwaved it, you wouldn’t like pork either. You’ve never tried really GOOD vegetables. You’ll see.”

That’s what I said. I hoped I said it convincingly. It is true. We always have vegetables around, but they are rarely very inspired. I went on to say that we could cook vegetables from all over the world, so we could do both our resolutions at the same time. We talked about options.

Jump a few hours. I’m making a grocery list.

“Andrew, what do you want in your school lunch this week, Honey?”

“Spinach tortellini and pumpkin bread, from scratch.”

“Spinach tortellini from scratch?”

“Yes, that is one way that I like vegetables. That’s the plan, right? You know, to cook vegetables that we all like? Remember, I tried a free sample at the store.”

Sigh. Spinach tortellini? Really?

On Saturday, Andrew and I made spinach tortellini from scratch. I could have said ‘no’ but somewhere deep inside I felt that I was setting a precedent for the year. And, that somehow a failure in this realm was better than giving up entirely. It wouldn’t hurt to fail once. So we waste a few eggs and a few cups of flour. It would be a funny memory. We went to the grocery store. We started cooking.

The filling was easy: chop, dump, stir. No cooking. I played ‘sous chef’ and chopped the spinach, but the kids did the rest. (Even Emeril has a ‘sous chef.’)

The first batch of pasta was in the mixer looking like a bunch of rough pebbles. All of the ingredients had been added, but it needed more moisture. So, we added more egg and oil and mixed some more. We kneaded it and put it in the bowl to rest. Skeptical, I thought we should make one more batch. Disaster waited. We would need several tries.

This time, I gave Andrew all of the ingredients and set off to find a diet Coke.

“You can do it,” I encouraged. “Just add the eggs and oil until it looks right,” I said not really sure what it meant to ‘look right.’


When I returned, Andrew was using his entire strength to knead the dough. When the first batch was fully rested, I cut it in half and gave it to him, along with the pasta machine. We talked briefly about how to use it. I told him to run it through three times on the first setting, folding it each time. We looked again at the recipe and decided that setting 5 or 6 would work just fine.

“I can do it, Mom. Okay?”

When my husband walked through, Andrew was cranking the machine and easing out the dough all by himself. My husband offered to help. He began to make a suggestion. But, quickly saw that Andrew had it under control, probably more than we could ever imagine.



With each strip of dough, Andrew cut out circles and gave them to me.



I filled and wrapped the best tortellini I have ever had. The kids gobbled them up.



Today, Andrew has spinach tortellini and pumpkin bread (we made that Sunday) in his lunchbox.

Once again, I have a newfound respect for my son and the additional resolution to remember to ‘let them fail’ just a little more often.

So, what was Gladys’ resolution? She wants to learn how to clean better.

I’m hoping she figures it out.

Maybe she’ll teach me someday.