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…

it was not until i saw the memphis in may world championship barbeque festival and cooking contest highlighted on television by the food network and BBC and described in great detail by al roker, that it occurred to me that my city’s annual pig out is a big deal.

 i used to think it was normal for a city to smell like smoked meat for an entire 5-day period and for grownups to walk around wearing hollowed-out rib-bone necklaces. i now recognize and even delight in the fact that  the event, boasting 200+ frat-house-like booths, a serious cooking contest by day, and a raucous party by night, is quite a spectacle.

this delight is new though. my husband’s annual participation in this hog wild extravaganza has historically led to such (un)pleasantries as:

• our kitchen’s transformation into a cooler-stacked, wall-to-wall meat storage unit,
• the sensation of sharing a bed with the unmistakable aroma of a bbq sandwich,
• and, the pummeling/dragging incedent that took place between my little monkey (then almost two) and a beer-filled wagon. (and that was on “family night,” i might add!)

in spite of these annoyances and minor tragedies, i have spent enough time swining and dining at this year’s fest to have accrued a whole hamper of smokey-smelling clothes. and i must admit, it’s been fun! partly because i’ve been fascinated by the makeshift way in which things come together down there by the river.

for example, this is “herman,” the smoker, which my husband and a friend (mostly the friend) welded together out of old industrial parts found in a warehouse.

and this is an old sink, procured for $50 from a restaurant supply company, against the backdrop of old school lockers that a team member found on the side of the road.

another contributing factor to my new found enjoyment of the shin-dig is that today, for the first time, i was in the booth for the much-anticipated visitation of the judges.

you would have thought that god, herself, was getting ready to pull up a chair and enjoy a rib bone! the place was spotless (there was vacuuming), and the food was incredible (i ate a slab and a half of ribs, myself).

and when it was time to submit a mouth-watering entry to the “blind judging contest” taking place a few (hundred) booths down, guess who was called on to complete this mission — yep, the monkey. maybe this important role will somehow erase his association between the fest and bizarre injury.

now perhaps you are wondering how a strict, five-day diet of smoked pig meat is received by the human digestive system. the answer is, of course, NOT WELL. but there is no need to worry.

there are plenty of free tums for everyone!

dear readers,

i think that you and i are familiar enough with one another now that i can really show you the ropes. this makeshift parenting thing is serious business, and you can either hold your life together with a ladder, an old shoe, a cardboard chimney, an art frame, and some plastic bags, or you can bind up the chaos in a neat little package, held together by guilt and ridiculous expectations. choose wisely because it’s a matter of survival.

a year and a half ago, our family moved into our current home. in our previous home, all of the bedrooms were upstairs. in this home, the master bedroom is downstairs and the kids’ rooms are upstairs. this floor plan will be ideal in ten years, but for right now it presents some challenges.

one such challenge became an issue about a year ago, when the monkey learned how to hurl himself from his crib and onto the floor. we quickly moved him to a toddler bed, which was kind of like moving a child from a prison cell to a candy store. suddenly, the monkey was bouncing off the walls in his room during nap time, and it wasn’t long before he was spotted fondling pins and needles in my sewing nook and teetering dangerously down the stairs!

many parents would take these as signs that the two-and-a-half year old had grown out of his need for naps. but i wasn’t ready to face this notion.

then, one sunday morning, i preached a really crazy sermon on the good samaritan that involved costumes. after googling “samaritan” and discerning that a blue miss america-style banner was needed to clad this particular character, i fashioned such an accessory and schlepped it off to church with the other props. and then, as i was in the middle of proclaiming the text, i gazed over at the church member who was playing the part of the samaritan, and an idea came to me. it was a simple solution, really, and one that has drastically enhanced our quality of life.

before you dial the number to child protective services, you should know that the doorknob is tied to the railing with a slip knot. one pull of the end of the stole (if you will), results in instant freedom for the monkey — in case of a fire, for example.

judge me if you want to. i think this makeshifting idea was a sign from god.

sunny flordia is indeed sunny. the problem is, it is also windy and cold. it is supposed to warm up tomorrow. in the meantime, the monkey would prefer to do this:

and this:

we would prefer that he not.

so, we’ve had two morning excursions to local strolling, playgrounding, and lunching spots. all have provided our fair share of respite from the wizard-of-oz-like beachside wind.

i, myself, like to find a warm, sunny corner and observe.

but these excursions are not our only makeshift moves this week. i am frequently fretting that my little bird is, well, little. he’s not even on the charts, though the doc says he’s perfectly healthy. if you are wondering just how small he is, he’s about the size of this hole on our third-story condo balcony:

within minutes of our arrival at the beach, my genius husband, creator of this makeshift-yet-fully-functional baby gate, came through again with this solution involving a nearby landscaping brick:

is it bad that our makeshifting often involves trespassing and/or stealing? 

is there anything more makeshift than a family road trip with small children? one minute you are pulling out of your driveway with carefully organized kids’ activities in tow along with deluded dreams of a three-year-old exhibiting the kind of silent focus reserved only for phD students. the next minute (okay, well, more like 15 hours later), you are knee-deep in piles of disintegrated goldfish crackers, and the only things interrupting your gratitude for the bottle of wine waiting for you in the trunk are the countless spin moves required of you to maintain back seat order.

well, now that our drive is behind us and my little bird is safely napping in his pack-n-play in the closet of the beach condo, i can say, as i always do, that the chaotic drive was worth it. especially since we found this playground equivalent of the magic kingdom just outside of jackson, ms: 

given that our usual playground stops involve scaling eight-foot chain-link fences as a family and trespassing on the private property of churches and elementary schools, this one really wowed the kids. they didn’t even seem to mind settling down in the woodchips to eat their supper:

i’d say the real low point of the car-ride was when i gave the kids suckers followed by a roll of toilet paper stolen for entertainment purposes from the previous night’s hotel. i looked back, and the one-year-old had transformed himself into a flailing, sticky mummy. oh well. lesson learned.

now, excuse me while i see about that wine… 

first name: Elizabeth

age: 45

current city:  Memphis

living situation: I live with my husband, son who is 16, and daughter who is 13. I am lucky to live in the same town as my mother and my brothers and their families.

occupation: Mother/Part-time lawyer

how do you structure your time and space? I was a full-time lawyer before I had my children.  I was fortunate to be able to stay home with them for about ten years. I wouldn’t trade that time for anything. I had an opportunity to go back to my firm about five years ago, and they let me be part-time. The timing was right for me and I am glad to have the adult interaction, a little income, and the sense of pride that comes with doing the job well.

I don’t think part-time allows one to “have it all”. I took myself off any partnership track, I make less than one might expect, and I have to deal with people who make snide comments when I leave at 2:30 to go to carpool line. However, I do have some income, I have the satisfaction of knowing my input helps and makes a difference at the office, I have a sense of pride in having the job I do. Everyone knows that my children and my family are my top priorities and the job only works for me as long as it works for my family.

The biggest thing for me is learning to say “no” and not feel guilty.  I am better at the first but still struggling with the second.

using the metaphor of seasons to describe the phases of women’s lives,

-what are the particular challenges and highlights of your current season? I think I am in the season of contentment right now. My children are both in good places right now and are happy and settled in school. They are fairly independent, but still share with my husband and me. My husband and I are best friends and enjoy having more time together. I have a job that allows me flexibility. I am thankful for facebook and text messaging to be in touch with friends.

-what season(s) preceded this one? The season of uncertainty.  I had decisions about what schools my kids would attend, whether I would go back to work, how would I make some type of activity for me fit in with the focus on motherhood I want. 

-what season(s) might your future hold? The season of wonder. I wonder where my kids will go to college, what they will do and whom they will love. I wonder how my mother will manage without the love of her life. I wonder what my husband and I will do with an empty nest. I wonder if I will want to work more—I doubt that.

favorite family activities: Going to dinner, going to the lake, just being together. 

favorite solo activities: Reading, knitting or smocking, playing on the computer.

sources of inspiration: My parents, my husband and my kids.

best MakeShift moment: The best makeshift moments for me are when friends and I collaborate to shuffle our respective children (who are also friends) to their various and conflicting activities so that we don’t have to be two places at once.

I also think that cell phones have transformed motherhood.  I used to sit in carpool line and use that time to talk to friends without feeling like I needed to be playing with a child, cooking dinner, or doing laundry. It was time that worked for phone calls.

if you or someone you know would make a good “mothers of invention” feature, check out the sidebar to your right for pages about the nomination process.

one of the benefits of the blogging life is that i’m starting to really notice things around my house for their creativity and absurdity. it all started when anne  found our ridiculously wonderful baby gate to be a source of humor and encouraged me to write a post about it. now i’m beginning to see everything for its potential to make me laugh. as it turns out, makeshift stuff is really funny! here are a few examples:

the whoopee cushion is more than a brilliant simulator of flatulence. it makes the perfect resting place for a half-eaten sucker.

and, as it would happen, an empty tangueray container is second only to the quaker oats can when it comes to the storage of hot wheels.

i wish i could take credit for these genius innovations but both are the brain children of my three-year-old monkey.

what are the hidden sources of makeshift humor in your house?

our little bird is into everything now, and he truly seems happiest when he is stair-climbing (if only this were true for the rest of us). the problem is that when the monkey went through this stage, i accidentally put a large hole in the wall when i was trying to install a baby gate.

we live in a different house now, but the situation is still the same: climbing baby, sheet rock on one side, iron rail on the other. we had a very fancy retractable contraption professionally installed at the top of the stairs when we moved into our house but repeating this elaborate scheme seems so silly when this works just as well:

yes, that is one of the monkey’s outgrown shoes that is ever-so-strategically used to keep the ladder from rattling around. 

our whole family, including the 3-year-old, has grown quite accustomed to climbing over this ladder no less than 30 times a day when we want to go up or down the stairs.

since this was the brainchild of my husband, i’m going to put it to you this way. the makeshift baby gate is

a) tragic

b) genius

c) all of the above

i pick c.

what are the makeshift fixtures in your life?