a few years ago, my mother-in-law gave the kids a hand-sewn manger scene set, complete with plush, non-breakable characters that can be arranged, stacked, pelted at each other, et cetera. the set has been a hit for various reasons (see above), and because our den is home to a constantly evolving sea of miscellaneous toy pieces that defies organization, i was not surprised at all yesterday to see this:

it looks like the monkey crashed the party, so to speak.

some young clergy women friends of mine turned me on to the sermons of debbie blue a while back, and i recently re-read her hilarious and insightful musings about the placement of the wise men in manger scenes. in betty’s manger scene collection she writes,

“i’ve been thinking maybe someone should start a small group of guerilla activists whose task it would be to plant shocking figures in manger scenes…. suburban housewives will shriek when they find batman figures on the roof of the manger on their mantle. churches will be horrified to find barbies and plastic dinosaurs on their altars. but people will pay attention. they will look twice. they may even stop their car. they may even get out when they see a garden troll or a pink flamingo or a big plastic homer simpson leaning over the baby jesus on the cathedral lawn.

photo from ncs909x

i actually wonder if i’m not the first to come up with that idea. it might have been some sort of guerilla group that first placed the wise men in manger scenes…. these guys probably didn’t come from nice clean places, maybe not even good families, probably more like smoky little rooms in the back of tattoo parlors… that’s a bold way to tell a story, these foreigners, in every sense of the word, these outsiders (way outsiders) were the first people in matthew’s story to encounter the jewish messiah…. it’s like having shirley maclaine at our manger scene. it’s that out there. shirley maclaine.”

i’m so proud of my little guerilla activist! i’m thinking about following his lead and inserting a little shock value into all of the manger scenes i encounter from here on out. you better watch out… you never know who will turn up on your mantle. as previously stated, i have access to a constantly evolving sea of miscellaneous toy pieces.

[source for this post is located on the bibliography page on the sidebar to your right.]

wednesday marked the first day of hanukkah and the first day of december, and last sunday marked the first day of advent. my favorite local radio station began playing holiday music before thanksgiving, and a giant inflatable santa has been looming over union avenue since before the last pumpkin was procured from beneath his (slightly premature) air-filled feet. this is the time of year when i usually get serious about my spirituality.

in years gone by, i have read a bit of tillich each day, edited and published college students’ thoughts on advent, and spent time pouring over wonderful holiday stories by harper lee and truman capote. but those years are as i just described: gone by. there is no time for intense study, no time for ruminating on light in the darkness, no time to be so intentional about making room for hope and divinity and the dawn of new life. 

instead, there are santa beard christamas countdown calendars involving cotton balls and glue. there are cookie-baking parties and charlie brown specials. i think bonnie j. miller-mclemore says it best in her book entitled, “in the midst of chaos:”

“when people think of the spiritual life, they typically picture silence, uninterrupted and serene — a pastor’s study, a cloister walk, a monk’s cell. thinking of parenting, by contrast, they imagine noise and complication, dirty diapers, sleepless nights, phone calls from teachers, endless to-do lists, teen rooms strewn with stuff, and back seat pandemonium. by and large, these portraits are accurate. the life of faith requires focused attention that comes most easily when one is least distracted, while caring for children is one of the most intrusive, disorienting occupations around, requiring triage upon triage of decision and response. can one pursue a ‘spiritual’ life in the midst of such regular, nitty-gritty, on-the-alert demands” (2)?

when the holidays hit, there is no time to simulate the perfect conditions, tie up loose ends, or send grief away on a month-long cruise. my children are just as inclined to create poopy diapers and impromptu marker-on-wall illistrations on christmas morning as they are on every other day. there is no such thing as escaping the chaos in order to locate one’s spirituality. the meaning is IN the chaos. the chaos IS the pastor’s study, the cloister walk, and the monk’s cell. parents have the added challenege and opportunity to look for the extraordinary in the ordinary.

so that is what i’m going to do this holiday season. i am going to look for moments of deep truth and goodness in the midst of our particular brand of pandemonium. and then i am going to post about these moments in an image or phrase. if the bedlam that exists in your house should happen to contain a glimpse of divinity or insight, do share (themsrevolution(at)gmail(dot)com)! there’s no telling what we can find in the midst of chaos.

[source for this post can be found on the bibliography page located on the sidebar to your right.]

i love me some note cards.

i never leave home with out them. they are the perfect place to record a genius idea, deposit toddler scribbles, and spit out used gum. i wrote all of my school papers, from tenth grade through graduate school, by putting one fact one each note card, arranging them into themed stacks, putting the stacks in order, and settling down in front of my computer in the midst of a veritable note card village. i even wrote my most recent homily this way.

when i started the re[frame] productivity system for creative people a few months ago, it wasn’t so much because i had friends who had successfully completed the program and were happy with the results. nor was the main draw its enticing low price of $42 for six weeks worth of daily emails explaining a detailed process in simple, attainable steps. it was the note cards, folks. i loved the idea of writing one “to do” on each note card and organizing them in a cute little box under headings for each day of the week. so excited was i about the power of this little box and its contents to transform my chaotic world that i diligently worked the note card system for months.

during this time, i returned emails and phone calls promptly, sent school picture money back on time, made headway on long overdue projects (the sewing room reorganization, for example), and developed a regular schedule for household tasks such as doing laundry and making dinner. i was the very picture of productivity. the problem was that i wasn’t feeling very creative anymore.

there was no time to whip up crazy pants for my boys in my newly organized sewing room. i began having visions of things i wanted to paint or cook, but there wasn’t time to bring them to life. i pictured myself (and still do) dropping by amro music of an afternoon, renting a fiddle, and spending “free time” indulging myself and horrifying others with the excruciating cacophony only a beginning fiddler could produce.

so for the last six weeks or so, i have abandoned my dear note cards. we are living in piles of laundry and dirty dishes but the laundry now contains several pairs of fabulous new crazy pants for the kids, and the dirty dishes are the result of creative cooking experiments. i have devoured a few great books (both the for-fun kind and the brain-stimulating kind) but there are an embarrassing number of unread emails in my inbox.

i generally prefer allowing my intuition to guide me from one task to the next. the only problem is that my intuition is not so good at taking care of business. and after a while, it becomes evident that i need things like friends, and clean underwear, and an unsoiled mug for my coffee. 

so today, i’m getting back on the re[frame] wagon. i’m returning to the world of note cards. however, instead of attacking every piece of unfinished business in my life the way  my dog attacks his breakfast (in an near-violent frenzy), i’m going to take a more measured approach. i have only one goal for the week, and that is cleaning out the bird’s closet. i know there must be clothes to fit this child in there somewhere!

is there any way to be both productive and creative at the same time? or is this particular brand of balance just another part of a mother’s quest for pie-in-the-sky equanimity? i think i’ll just write these questions on note cards and carry them around in my purse.

if i could imbue my children with one virtue, one tool to be used in the face of life’s wonder and challenge, it would be CREATIVITY. it takes creativity to do things like improve the economy, convey truth and meaning, patch an oil leak, develop a vaccine, negotiate a real estate transaction, keep a baby off the stairs, generate personal narratives of hope and healing, wire light fixtures, and the list goes on.

though i want my children to be creative, this does not mean that they are required to be artists, chefs, or musicians, though creativity might very well encompass such delightful propensities. i want the monkey and the bird to be capable of “divergent thinking (generating many unique ideas) and then convergent thinking (combining those ideas into the best result).” this is the language used by e. paul torrance  in his longitudinal creativity study that began in the fifties. according to a recent newsweek article entitled the creativity crisis by bronson and merryman, torrance’s assessment of children’s creative tendencies (CQ tests) proved to be accurate over time and are still the “gold standard” in measuring creativity today. however, while IQ test scores are on the rise, CQ test results show that the creativity of american children has been on the decline since the nineties.

torrance

the cause of this decline is unknown, though there is speculation that kids’ increased time in front of the television and video games could be a culprit, as could the school system’s rigid and standardized measures of success. but it’s also possible that common misperceptions about creativity have contributed to its decline. one such misperception is that creativity is something that pertains to the arts, not the sciences. another is that it should be separate from actual, factual learning. and finally, many folks falsely believe that creativity cannot be taught, a notion successfully disputed by three recent university studies conducted in georgia, oklahoma, and taiwan.

such  information is enlightening to this mother, whose home is filled with music, cooking projects, and art supply explosions at every turn. but fostering my boys’ creativity is about more than making pumpkin bread with my children (something we do often). it’s also about helping them to solve problems by engaging all the parts of their brains (something we do much less often). this means that the constant “why is the sky blue” questions are more than just annoying. they are gateways to more questions, brainstorming, further research, an atmosphere of continuous learning, and the celebration of curiosity. according to the above mentioned newsweek article,

“highly creative adults tended to grow up in families embodying opposites. parents encouraged uniqueness, yet provided stability. they were highly responsive to kids’ needs, yet challenged kids to develop skills. this resulted in a sort of adaptability: in times of anxiousness, clear rules could reduce chaos—yet when kids were bored, they could seek change, too. in the space between anxiety and boredom was where creativity flourished.”

 i’m not sure how to provide for my children “the space between anxiety and boredom.”  but i am going to try to introduce them to this thought sequence developed by creativity theorists: problem-finding, fact-finding, idea-finding, and solution-finding. and because i am making up these policies as i go along, there will still be pumpkin bread and art supply explosions. this is not about getting these boys into college. it’s about teaching them how to get themselves out of trouble. it’s about helping them to construct meaningful lives in the face of life’s wonder and challenge.

 for further reading on this subject, check out“more than cupcakes: supporting your child’s creative potential,” an interview with dr. don treffinger.

last week’s pantry week was a huge success and a little too easy. our fridge and freezer are no longer avalanches waiting to happen but the pantry is another story. any minute there could be a chocolate-covered-blueberry rock slide in there. something has to be done!

so… this week is modified pantry week. the same rules apply with a couple exceptions:

• one farmers market trip is allowed so that we get enough veggies and don’t contract scurvy.
• i took a cue from my friend tiffany and gave certain pantry items “must use” status. then, i bought a few necessary groceries to make that possible. for example, we now have chicken broth, which was the missing ingredient in several of my most brilliant makeshift culinary schemes.

monday night we had sausage and chicken gumbo using this recipe from the best of cooking light. also, the monkey and i made these tasty glazed  pumpkin cookies.

last night we had chicken pot pie using this delicious recipe from edible memphis’  melissa peterson:

2 ready-made pie crusts

1 T veggie oil

6 chicken thighs

1.5 quarts water/chicken broth (i use much less)

2 carrots peeled and diced (substituted red bell pepper)

1/2 onion diced

2 ribs celery, diced

4 T all-purpose flour

4 T butter or veggie oil

1/4 c. milk

1/2 cup frozen peas (i used leftover lady peas)

1/2 tsp. poultry seasoning (i used much more)

salt and pepper

1 egg beaten with 1 T water

2-3 T grated parmesan

in a large pot, heat oil over medium heat. brown chicken thighs, then carefully add water or broth. boil. reduce heat to a simmer. cover and cook till chicken is fall-off-the-bone tender, about 40 minutes.

remove thighs from broth and set aside to cool. add carrots, onion and celery to cooking liquid. simmer until veggies are soft, about 4 minutes. in a small saucepan, heat 4 T oil or butter. whisk in flour to make roux. add roux to veggies and broth. cook over medium heat until mixture thickens, whisking constantly. add milk.

remove skin from cooled chicken. pull meat from bones. shred and add to vegetable mixture. add poultry seasoning and season with salt and pepper. stir in frozen peas.

place bottom crust in 10″ pie plate. spoon in chicken mixture. place top crust and crimp edges. cut 3 vents into crust. brush with egg wash and sprinkle crust with parmesan cheese. bake at 350 until crust is golden brown, about 40 minutes. cool for at least 20 minutes before serving.

tonight’s must-use items: black beans, red beans, and canned corn. any guesses?

i don’t know whether to be delighted or embarrassed about how well we have eaten during pantry week. let’s face it. my name is mary allison, and i am a food hoarder.

last night’s entree was this double-cheese meatloaf  from cooking light. my lamb, ground beef, and sausage combination worked really well, as did my substitution of front-yard-basil for the called-for parsley. i didn’t get a chance to photograph the meal until it was almost gone, but as you can see, it disappeared fast.

along with the meatloaf, we had some farmers’ market lady peas (purchased saturday before we hatched the pantry week plan) and some broccoli that was nearing its date of expiration.

apparently, i am not the only person who is seeking better organization through eating. many of you have responded to our little pantry week experiment with your own versions of this challenge, and some of you have even sent me your favorite makeshift recipes. here is one that’s in keeping with the meatloaf theme:

elise’s makeshift meatloaf:

add crumbled crackers or oatmeal to hold leftover meat together. add one egg, some worcestershire sauce or ketchup, salt and pepper. put it in a loaf pan or dutch oven and cook at 350 for 45 minutes or until done.

tonight’s menu will feature a return of the lady peas in an unconventional fashion. any guesses where they will turn up?

one afternoon last week, when i opened the pantry to get the kids a snack, i was bombarded with an avalanche of chocolate chips, tea bags, pretzels, granola bars, and miscellaneous packets of bakers yeast.

and then, this morning, as i was reaching into the fridge for the creamer, i was met with a hailstorm of blueberries.

hazards such as these can only mean one thing: it is time for a pantry week in our house.

for the next seven days, there will be no meal-planning or food purchasing (apart from a few kid staples, and of course, coffee). andy and i will take turns coming up with creative concoctions with the vast array of random food items crammed into the far corners of our kitchen. so get ready for the cheese-toast pizzas, the bizarre quiche-like entrees, and the breakfast pasta dishes. i’ll be posting about our makeshift meals… the good, the bad, and the ugly.

and now for an update on elvis, the webkinz mountain goat:

elvis lives, despite my best efforts to off him. the plush real-life elvis is quite at home with the monkey and enjoys frequent outings to the park and to his grandparents’ house.

elvis’ web persona is still living the high life in his room with his wet bar, area rug, and cactus. after consulting with some experts (middle schoolers), i learned that the best way to contribute to the demise of a webkinz is to play with it regularly but not to feed it. i have been employing this strategy lately and have even refrained from feeding elvis the jar of pickles i received yesterday just for logging in. however, so far he seems no worse for the wear. suggestions? shouldn’t he at least be getting sick enough to merit a trip to “dr. quack?”

stay tuned…

when andy left the house last night for a meeting, our evening routine was ahead of schedule. the bird was clean and running around in a diaper. the monkey was in the shower, and i was so giddy at the prospect of having everyone in bed (including myself) by 8:15 that i even found motivation to do the dinner dishes. i am not sure how things devolved so quickly into a scene from the big lebowski.

the bird took a rare break from meddling in the dishwasher (yes, IN) to tell me that he wanted to tee tee in the potty. the fact that he pulled his diaper off and ran toward the bathroom prompted me to take him seriously, even though we’ve got at least six months to go before we re-enter potty training hell. i dangled over the potty for a couple of minutes to no avail. as it turns out, the bathroom rug held much greater appeal. he soaked the area around his feet and then giggled with maniacal glee!

not to be outdone, the monkey, who was cleaning his “stinky parts” in the nearby shower opened the steamy door, jutted out his pelvis, and marked his own territory on the rug. then, he let out his own prideful fit of uproarious laughter.

now i’ve got to schlep this rug into the back yard and hose it down. the bathroom floor with be awfully cold and bare while it’s gone. alas. it really tied the room together.

last saturday morning i took you on a tour of my sewing room.

i have been sewing for almost four years, which is precisely the amount of time that some version of this mess (on the dining room table, at our old house) has been with me. people stroll through and exit with thread wrapped around their ankles. friends’children come over for play dates and lament to their mommies that they “don’t know where to walk in this room.” loose pins and other boobie traps are obscured by mountains of fabric — fabric that it so fabulous that i cannot bear to throw away even the tiniest scrap.

most people couldn’t live like this for four minutes, let alone four years. but for me, four years was just the right amount of time. and then, suddenly, last saturday, i was over it. not the sewing… THE MESS!

i’ve been hard at work. the reframe people should come shoot a commercial at my house. there were days of plotting, pricing, and sketching. there were manic trips to home depot with two children “driving” the orange plastic cart with steering wheels. there was an entire wednesday spent with children under my feet asking things like, “mommy, did you mean to put that hole in the wall?” then there were many hours of sorting, stacking, discarding, and hanging. and now there is this:

BEFORE

AFTER

let’s look at it again, shall we?  

i am pretty sure that everything is out of kid reach, though time will tell. i can always move things around if need be.

and p.s. — isn’t that a cool rug? i hadn’t seen that long-lost bad boy in ages!

hello, and welcome to my home tour. i think i’ll start by giving your a glance at my sewing room:

oh yeah, i keep forgetting that you’ve already seen my kitchen and my office. we’ve passed that point in our relationship where i can blithely lie and change the subject to cover up my shortcomings. let’s just say that while i dream of the above displayed organization, my reality looks more like this:

it’s not that i don’t have an organizational system. i do actually have shelves and scrap bins, and i even returned everything to their places right before i left for the mountains. it’s just that everything lives within reach of the monkey and the bird, who love nothing more than to float around in vast seas of fabric. the up side is that this meticulous project of dumping, gathering, and arranging occupies the kids for hours. 

i am still plugging away at the re[frame] productivity system for creative people  . my “to do”  list still resides in a cute little box of note cards, my files are still in order, and my office hasn’t been a disaster area in quite some time. clearly the sewing room project is next. i’m thinking pegboards (out of the children’s reach) securing scissors, rotary cutters, and the like. i’m thinking colorful displays of bobbins and thread, elevated just beyond the monkey’s grasp. i’m thinking off-the-floor shelving for the fabric and scraps. this is going to be huge, people.

if any of you crafty types have any tips, pictures, or inspiration to share, bring it on.

the result is going to be sew fantastic.

the nice orderly fabric picture was borrowed from thread on 6th street in tuscumbia, AL.