Your Guide to Baking Beets Whole

So, you find yourself staring at a bunch of beets, wondering what on earth to do with them? Fear not, dear reader, for I am here to guide you through the wardrobe-staining experience of baking beets whole – a culinary adventure.

Selecting and Cleaning the Beets

First things first, let’s pick the perfect beets. You want them to be firm, smooth, and as perky as THOT. Look for ones with their greens still intact, a sign of freshness and vitality. Anything looking sad and droopy should be left on the shelf – we want beets that don’t look beaten. Isn’t that the kind of irony we expect from the world?  Trim off those leafy greens, leaving just a little bit of stem to keep the beets from getting too bleedy during their time in the oven.

Or, have you purchased a greenless 20lb bag of beets so small that peeling them seems like the kind of punishment outlawed in some countries? But they’re yours now, Sista!

Once you’ve found your beets, it’s time to give them a good rinse and scrub under cold water. Count, if you can, how many times you disassociate throughout this monotonous task and repeatedly return to find yourself still scrubbing the damned things. (They’re not looking like such a show-stopping deal anymore, are they?)

I digress.

But here’s the thing: the torture ends here. Because you’re going to bake your beets whole, you can skip the agony of peeling! Take this tiny win and throw your beets into a baking dish deep enough to catch potential drips.

Baking Beets Whole

Now, let’s get roasting! Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C).

If you’ve got a few big, beautiful beets, you might consider wrapping each one in foil like a potato to seal in the moisture as it cooks. If your beets are small, you’ll want to wrap your baking dish in foil to seal all the beets at once. If you want to add a little flavour early in the process, you can dress them with a little olive oil, salt and pepper before wrapping them up. Adding 1 cup of water to the sealed baking dish will help steam the peels and make them easier to remove later.

Bake your beets whole on the middle rack for 45 minutes to an hour and increase time as needed. You’ll know your beets are done when you can slide a knife into them easily. Remove them from the oven and remove the aluminum foil to cool.

Peeling Your Whole Baked Beets

With the oven timer chiming its completion, you can now embark on the satisfying task of peeling your whole baked beets. As you prepare for this endeavor, it’s wise to don an apron and perhaps even slip on a pair of latex gloves if, like me, you tend to be a bit clumsy and careless in the kitchen. Trust me; it’s a small precaution that could spare you from emerging looking like you’ve just engaged in a particularly vibrant round of finger painting—albeit with a decidedly pinker hue.

Once your beets have cooled to a manageable temperature, you’ll find that sliding off their skins is a breeze. Compared to the tedious chore of peeling raw beets, this process is remarkably swift and remarkably less likely to result in any culinary battle scars. Indeed, your knuckles will thank you for opting to bake your beets whole rather than subjecting them to the peeler’s edge.

Now that your beets are cooked to tender perfection and free from their earthy exteriors, they stand ready to lend their vibrant flavor and vibrant color to an array of culinary creations. Whether destined for a hearty soup, a refreshing salad, or a tangy pickling brine, your baked beets are primed to elevate any dish they grace with their presence. And while the temptation to devour them whole is undoubtedly strong, we recommend exercising a modicum of restraint and opting instead to slice them to your desired thickness, depending on the culinary application at hand.

Dressing the Baked Beets

Ah, the joy of dressing baked beets whole—an opportunity to infuse these humble roots with a symphony of flavors and textures that will tantalize the taste buds and elevate any meal to gourmet status. Among the myriad options for dressing your beets, one particular combination stands out as a perennial favorite:

Begin by drizzling your baked beets with a generous glug of good-quality olive oil—a touch of liquid gold to enhance their natural sweetness and impart a luscious mouthfeel. Follow this with a sprinkling of salt and pepper, seasoning to taste and allowing the flavors to meld harmoniously with the earthy notes of the beets.

Next, introduce a splash of balsamic vinegar, its tangy acidity serving as a delightful counterpoint to the beets’ inherent sweetness. Allow the vinegar to seep into the crevices of the beets, infusing them with its rich, complex flavor profile and adding a tantalizing depth to each bite.

For a burst of freshness and color, scatter a handful of spring lettuce mix over the dressed beets, their crisp texture and vibrant hues providing a delightful contrast to the tender, jewel-toned roots.

To further elevate the dish, sprinkle over a generous handful of fresh chopped herbs—think parsley, dill, basil, and chives—each contributing its unique aroma and flavor to the ensemble. Feel free to adjust the herb selection according to your personal preferences, experimenting with different combinations until you find the perfect balance of flavors.

Finally, crumble over a liberal amount of feta cheese or soft goat cheese, its creamy richness adding a luxurious creaminess to each bite while complementing the earthy sweetness of the beets. If dairy isn’t your thing, fear not; there are plenty of vegan cheese alternatives available that are equally delicious in their own right.

With your beets lovingly dressed and adorned, take a moment to admire their vibrant colors and enticing aroma—a testament to the culinary masterpiece you’ve created. Whether served as a standalone side dish, a hearty salad, or a flavorful addition to sandwiches and wraps, these dressed beets are sure to steal the show and leave your taste buds clamoring for more.

These are ingredients that can be eyeballed and adjusted to taste. Need more beet salad recommendations? Check out this awesome beet salad dressing blog by the Happy Muncher.

Was it Worth it?

As you sit down to savor the fruits of your labor—a vibrant medley of tender beets, fresh herbs, and tangy dressing—you can’t help but marvel at the transformative power of simple ingredients. In a world where culinary trends come and go, there’s something comforting about the timeless appeal of a well-prepared beet dish.

Of all the root vegetables in the garden, beets hold a special place in my heart, their versatile nature and vibrant hues making them a perennial favorite in my kitchen. From roasted beet salads to hearty beet soups, there’s no shortage of delicious ways to enjoy these humble roots. And while it’s true that I may have overestimated my beet consumption on occasion, leading to a surplus that borders on the absurd, I can’t say that I regret a single beet-filled moment. (Got too many beets? Learn how to store them here).

So, the next time you find yourself faced with a pile of beets and a sense of culinary uncertainty, fear not. Armed with the knowledge of how to bake beets whole and dress them with flair, you’re ready to embark on a culinary adventure that’s sure to delight the senses and leave you craving more. After all, when it comes to cooking with beets, the possibilities are as endless as your imagination.

Canning Jars, Lids, and Pressure Cookers – 3 Things You Should Know

When I started gardening, it all seemed fairly simple. Bury the seed, grow the seed, store the winnings. But it quickly became evident that the winnings I was accruing were being produced in numbers that my freezer just could not accommodate. Green beans, peas, carrots, and dozens of other crops were ready in the garden. Without another freezer and without a cold storage area, I was really going to miss out on sustained enjoyment. And that was the point of all this effort in the first place – food security! All at once I realized that I would need to have a future in canning if I wanted to make this work. But canning jars, lids, and ‘debubbling’ were all so foreign to me. Finally, I went on Marketplace and bought what seemed like a garage full of canning supplies from an older lady who was scaling back, and began the process of making mistakes, learning, and doing it all again. Here are three things I wish I knew when I started learning about canning meat and produce.

pickled vegetables in a traditional mason jar

1: Used Lids Are Too Risky

When I bought boxes full of canning jars, lids and rings, I thought I was all set! The result was losing several jars to a poor seal. What I learned is that while it is perfectly fine to reuse rings and canning jars, lids (the flat top to your jar), and rings should be new. The reason is that the ring relies on achieving a seal between the glass and the rubber that lines the underside of the ring. After being used, or after being stored for too long, the rubber on the lid can dry out and become too rigid to hold a perfect seal. This results in much cussing from yours truly – after hours of canning work this is disappointment that I cannot bear and you shouldn’t either. If you’re new, buy new lids unless you have a seasoned canner in your life who can check them and advise. If your lid doesn’t seal, it will pop up and down when you press on it and, eventually, you will see signs of mold or other signs of spoilage on the food itself. If you don’t have a good seal on a jar – put it in the fridge to be used right away. Do not put this jar into storage, because the spoilage is a risk to anyone who eats it. And no one wants to die of a pickled beet.

2: You Can’t Water-Bath Everything

When I was young, I’d watch my grandmother water bath apple juice after picking the absolute abundance of apples in her modest yard. The process looked fairly simple, though there were lots of opportunities to burn myself so my involvement was limited to peeling apples. If I had been older, I’d have asked more questions and found out that, while you can water bath many things, you can’t water bath just as many – and it all comes down to the acidity of the item you’re canning and how much it needs to be cooked.

two jars of apricot preserves

What is water-bath canning?

Water bath canning means that the sterile jars are packed with produce and then immersed in boiling water to process. This process is preferable (in my opinion) to pressure canning because you don’t need to mess with a pressure canner, weights, etc. Fruits and vegetables often have enough acidic properties (4.6 or below) to effectively kill bacteria in a water bath. Some things, like tomatoes, may need some added acid in the form of lemon juice, vinegar or citric acid before being water-bathed.

3: You’ll Need Some Hardware (canning jars, lids, seals…)

Anyone who tells you it’s cheap to get started with gardening and canning hasn’t purchased a pressure cooker, large stock pot, or the propane to run the show. While these are one-time expenses, it’s important to be aware of what you’ll need to ensure that you’ll have everything ready when you are. Remember, you’re saving a ton of money at the grocery store by canning your own meat and produce and you’ll be able to use it again and again. At minimum you’ll need:

  • A canning funnel
  • A stainless ladle (choose one that will be well-proportioned to the funnel you’re using)
  • A magnetic jar lifter (get one that’s rubberized to reduce slips)
  • A large stock pot or pressure cooker
  • A guide to canning times etc. (Ball makes a good one) or see this video of best canning and preserving books!
a pantry full of jarred produce

Embarking on a journey to master the use of canning jars, lids, and rings, can seem intimidating but it is a simpler process that you’ve likely conjured in your head. The real challenge is the time it takes to complete! Regardless, I’ve come to love canning and look forward to seeing all my jars neatly lined up in the pantry. It’s pretty, it’s easy to identify, and it is ready when you are – no thawing required!

Unexpected Advantages of Canning Jars, Lids and Pressure Cookers

Embarking on a journey to master the use of canning jars, lids, and rings, can seem intimidating but it is a simpler process that you’ve likely conjured in your head. The real challenge is the time it takes to complete! Regardless, I’ve come to love canning and look forward to seeing all my jars neatly lined up in the pantry. It’s pretty, it’s easy to identify, and it is ready when you are – no thawing required!

Expanding your canning skills can lead to unanticipated successes in the kitchen! Experimenting with different spices, herbs, and flavor combinations can turn ordinary produce into extraordinary treats.

Canning allows for the preservation of seasonal abundance, ensuring that the flavors of summer can be savored during the colder months.

Finally, mastering the art of canning opens up opportunities for sharing homemade gifts with friends and family. Handing someone a jar of homemade salsa or pickles, knowing that it was crafted with care and expertise, adds a personal touch to gift-giving occasions. It’s a way to share not only food but also the joy and satisfaction that comes from creating something with one’s own hands.

In conclusion, while the journey into the world of canning may seem daunting at first, the rewards far outweigh the initial challenges. With patience, practice, and a willingness to learn, anyone can become proficient in the art of preserving food. So, roll up your sleeves, gather your supplies, and embark on a culinary adventure that will enrich your meals and bring joy to those around you.

Churned Butter at Home

churned butter

When I was young, my grandfather tried to gut a jackfish in front of my sister and me. The reaction he got from us was biblical – crying, screaming, the whole thing. Before long he gave up, placed Jack back in the pail of water he’d come up in, and let us watch as he swam away unharmed. My squeamishness that day is regularly brought up at family gatherings where everyone reinforces what a wimp I am. (It’s been 35 years, I think the horse is dead…) It has taken me until my 40th birthday to realize that I’m really not squeamish in most situations. What happened that day was a reflection of my lack of exposure to things in life that would bolster my resilience when faced with something new.

Years Later

At my house, my mother was so allergic to almost all animals that my exposure to them was essentially nil. No shit – I had to strip down in our attached garage and immediately launder everything I wore if I had stepped foot in a friend’s home. And it wasn’t just my mom that stood between me and animals, either. Once, we got an opportunity to ride some horses at a family member’s acreage, but the fun was immediately cut short because my sister’s face and eyes were swelling.

At that age, who could fault me for not being able to pet a dog comfortably – let alone gut a fish? Gradually, I began to see my lack of understanding of animals extended to the flora around me, too. I had moved to a beautiful coastal town in 2020 and the exposure to all the lush green rainforests around me called at me to do, learn, and experience more. So, I did what any sane person would do and went directly into my fears to face them head-on. I started a huge garden, learned to filet fresh salmon out of the river (H is best at this), and got a dog. I washed chicken eggs, sewed boat covers, homeschooled, and found friends who wanted to live the same way.

Now that my children are old enough to understand, I want to imbue them with as much knowledge about the nature of our earth as I can. I don’t want them to be young adults who can’t identify all the vegetables at the grocery store – you know, the ones who are 40 and still putting ranch on every damn thing?

A child watching the butter churning process.

I want my kids to understand where food comes from and how it goes back to the earth in a cycle that supports all life. I want them to understand more of the world in general. So, where should I begin? I searched my memory basket and remember making churned butter in a Mason jar as a small child (and wondering if it would ever end). It’s easy, inexpensive, and provides lots of opportunities to discuss how this important resource was made in the past. This would be perfect.

Churned Butter

  • Start by purchasing 2 cups of whipping cream. Any attempt to use a low-fat alternative here will fail!
  • Let your whipping cream come to room temperature before pouring it into your mason jar or stand mixer. (I took pity on my little guy and we used the stand mixer).
  • Start your stand mixer on low and gradually increase the speed until just before the cream splatters and makes a mess. Place a tea towel over the mixing machine to catch any splatter that does occur.
  • Continue to run your mixer this way until it forms a thick whipped cream.
  • After taking a mandatory sampling or two of your whipped cream, turn the mixer up again and keep churning the butter until it splits into what looks like butter and cloudy water (this “water” is buttermilk).
  • Pick your butter up and run cold water over it butter as you knead it into a ball
  • If you want to salt your churned butter, sprinkle some in now. If you want to add herbs and seasonings, click here for a few ideas.
  • Reserve the buttermilk to get the most out of your whipping cream!
  • Click here to see butter churning in action.
A child churning butter with a standard tabletop mixer

Why Churned Butter at Home is Better

  • You control the quality of the butter by using quality ingredients
  • You get access to the freshest product (especially when you make small batches regularly)
  • Education – your child learns more about traditional foods and how they are made
  • It’s easy and fun!
A child rinsing churned butter

Using Your Leftover Weigh

You’ve just made your first batch of home churned butter! Now you can turn your attention to that leftover weigh you set aside when it separated. Although the possibilities are endless, we love to use it in these buttermilk pancakes. For other ideas of what can be done with your leftover buttermilk, check out this list.

Buttermilk pancakes with fresh buttermilk

It’s Not Just Butter

Teaching children about traditional food practices is not just about imparting culinary skills; it’s about instilling a deeper connection to the environment and the sources of our sustenance. In today’s fast-paced world, where convenience often trumps authenticity, taking the time to churn butter with your children becomes more than just a kitchen activity – it becomes a lesson in heritage, sustainability, and self-reliance.

It’s Connection

By engaging in activities like butter churning, children gain a firsthand understanding of the effort and care that goes into producing food. They learn that food doesn’t magically appear on grocery store shelves; it has a journey, from farm to table. This awareness fosters appreciation and respect for the resources that nourish us, encouraging a more mindful approach to consumption.

It’s Cultural Preservation

Teaching children traditional food practices is a form of cultural preservation. In an era dominated by processed foods and fast food chains, these age-old techniques are at risk of being lost. By passing down these skills to the next generation, we ensure that our culinary heritage endures, keeping alive the flavors and traditions of our ancestors.

It’s Discovery

Beyond the kitchen, understanding the origins of food also sparks curiosity about the natural world. Children who begin with tasks like churning butter may develop an interest in agriculture, animal husbandry, or environmental stewardship. They may start asking questions about where their vegetables come from or how different animals contribute to the ecosystem, setting them on a path of discovery and exploration.

In essence, teaching children to churn butter is about more than just making a delicious spread; it’s about sowing the seeds of knowledge, curiosity, and appreciation. It’s about equipping them with the skills and insights they need to make informed choices about the food they eat and the world they inhabit. So, the next time you reach for that store-bought butter, consider taking a step back in time and inviting your children to join you in a journey of discovery through the simple act of churning.

Dr. Jordan B. Peterson Back Home in Alberta

Dr. Jordan B. Peterson. Digital Image. The Varsity. 8 October, 2017. Web. 12 February, 2018.

Dr. Jordan B. Peterson. Digital Image. The Varsity. 8 October, 2017. Web. 12 February, 2018. <thevarsity.ca>

An Antidote to Chaos

His international book launch tour is in full swing, with the most recent of talks being given at his old stomping ground, the Grande Prairie Regional College on February 10. Peterson discussed the release of his new book, 12 Rules for Life – An Antidote to Chaos to a sold out and enthusiastic crowd.

If you’ve been watching the news, walking the bookstores, or doing almost anything else – there’s a good chance you’ve heard of Jordan Peterson. An Alberta-born professor at the University of Toronto and clinical psychologist, Peterson has made headlines of late in his response to Canada’s compelled speech laws (Bill C-16), and his adamant opposition to postmodern rhetoric and social justice advocacy.

Beyond Media

If all you know about Peterson came from the news, there’s a good chance you’ve got a narrow understanding of his philosophy, and of his approach to life. Despite all the contentious news coming out of Peterson’s outspoken dissent to compelled speech and the polarizing sound bites our media is so oft to provide, Peterson is an encyclopedia of knowledge and insight, and a figure worthy of consideration and pride among Albertans and Canadians alike.

With nearly 300 YouTube videos and over 800,000 followers, it’s hard to say his insights are limited to the issues that have brought him visibility in the public sphere. A true intellectual, Peterson’s breadth of expertise extends from the political sciences, to clinical psychology (PhD McGill University 1991). He taught at Harvard University (’93-’98) before returning to Canada for the University of Toronto (current).

Peterson expresses keen interest and knowledge in 20th century history, including but not limited to the world wars and their impact on our understanding of the collective human psyche. He is a library of knowledge where it relates to prominent thinkers and philosophical figures from Nietzsche to Jung, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky and Piaget. Integrated in his philosophical teachings is his understanding and work with mythology and religion, attempting to attribute applicability of the stories of the past to the relevant present. His overall message? Stop complaining and fix your life – something our youth has hungered for, and something that twenty and thirty something males are gobbling up at a desperate rate.

Peterson On the Fly

Peterson spoke for nearly 3 hours, discussing everything from the nervous systems of crustaceans to the development and rearing of malevolent psychopaths and their manifestation in society (via rules #1, 6 and 7). His improvisation on stage is something to be observed, often determining the lecture topic once he’s got a clear view of his audience. Perhaps even more compelling, though, is the sobering existential dialogue that often results from question period. Taking 6 questions from the audience, we saw Peterson at his philosophical best. Questions were heard with interest, and responses were laid out with the wisdom of what could only be expected from one of the greatest thinkers of our time, and the accuracy of a seasoned clinician.

12 Rules for Life. Digital Image. Goodreads. Web. 12 February, 2018. <goodreads.com>

We watched with heavy hearts as one audience member asked how to progress in life in the aftermath of having witnessed the brutal murder of a family member as a child, and the continued malevolent emotional trauma he has since endured. Peterson took in the question with a sincere interest, and remained stoic throughout his response. The manner of his response was reminiscent of the parenting expression ‘meet them where they’re at’. He met this person where he was, showed sincere appreciation for the magnitude of his despair, and offered him a way forward. Without fanfare or drama, he discussed the perceived need to put distance between the subject’s family and himself, while putting emphasis on fostering connections with other trauma survivors to anchor away the sense of loneliness and isolation that these experiences can no doubt cause.

Questions around how to live in a time of such chaos were tempered with Peterson’s wisdom about the role that media has in generating a sense of chaos and confusion for its consumers, and his feeling that all is certainly not lost in the West. Regarding efforts to help others being swallowed up by tragedy and despair, he offered the biblical reference: “Cast not pearls before swine”. In other words, put your efforts into helping those who wish to be willing participants in the process.

Look Elsewhere for a Pick-Me-Up

For many of Peterson’s followers, the book offers non-academics their first opportunity to consume his written work. His previous work, Maps of Meaning – the Architecture of Belief, is a lengthy and highly academic read coming in at nearly $140.00 at local bookstores. Those of us not living in the world of academia and clinical studies have struggled to digest the work to extract the full meaning of his writings. His new book offers the best of Peterson’s take on life in language we can all understand, with all its inherent darkness and even more-so, its inherent inspiration.

“…life is complex and tragic and difficult. And the problem with the public portrayal of the ideal state of humanness as happiness is that it makes all of these young people feel ashamed of their own suffering. …If you’re constantly in a state of satisfaction and happiness, then nothing is going to affect you deeply enough so that you’ll become deep. And life without depth is, by definition, shallow and meaningless. In order to regard anything as truly important, you also have to regard its loss as truly meaningful and that means that to open yourself up to experiences of deep meaning also simultaneously means that you have to open yourself up to the possibility of deep hurt and sorrow.”-Jordan Peterson

[transcribed from Jordan Peterson on Why Happiness is Deceiving. YouTube. Rob Velzeboer, 2017].

Peterson describes the book as intentionally dark, and delves further into his insights on the embodiment of the logos (reason and logic in Jungian psychology), in an effort to maintain balance between the worlds of order and chaos inherent in all of our lives. Peterson’s 12 steps remind us to take our life and our responsibilities seriously. Rather than strive for happiness, to strive to become [someone] worthy of, above all else, our own self-respect.

Cleaning House – Dirty Dishes and Dusty Floors

Photo by Jenna Norman on Unsplash

I Have A Dream

Pristine, swept floors – floors which seem to go for miles as your eyes trace the interlocking wood planks down to the bay windows on the other side of the house. The smell of baking. A garden, pruned and detailed. Weeded meticulously. Counter tops that serve their intended purpose – beyond mail, homework and neglected dishes. Pencils that sit neatly in their cup, waiting to be found predictably when needed. A crumbless kitchen. A lifestyle of cleaning house…

…this is not my house.

When we lived in our little ’58 bungalow in the old part of the city, I was sure that our inability to maintain order for longer than 3 days (okay, 2) at a time, came down to a disproportionate ratio of belongings to space (1 456 491:1).

As I write this from my bigger, brighter, open-concept home, dishes sit unwashed since last night’s dinner. Laundry cries out, spilling from hampers. Garbage bins try to hold their own while we overwhelm them, and my kitchen counter stares arrogantly at me. I think it’s saying, “Your Grandmother would never have let this happen despite her four kids.” My counters would be right. My Grandmother is a master of cleaning house.

Master of Her Domain

You see, I come from a family where neither the men, nor the women, sit down. They are productive from the time their feet hit the cold ground in the morning to the time they fall, presumably from exhaustion, into bed at night. I’d love to have had more of the genetics of these people. Instead, I was born with a love of cooking (not cleaning), with more creativity (but less order), and a cynicism that suggests to me that to keep cleaning this house while my family lives here might just be paving my own road to crazy.

Other indicators of genetic difference can be seen when, for example, Grandma gets into a near-miss situation in her Lincoln and yells with passionate anger at the other guy: “TURKEY!” I’m not sure how I react to those situations. I can only assume I black out from rage. I digress.

Much as I’ve tried, nearly seven years in, I have never mastered the art of ‘staying home’. I have begun to wonder what it means to stay at home, exactly. I think the true definition lies somewhere between existential intellectual boredom, and doing everything you normally do, but from within the home while a 3-year-old dictator trades catastrophic mess for brief allowances of productive writing moments (unless there are bathrooms to be cleaned).

Whenever I have slept enough, and feel physically and mentally available to take on the disorder in my home, I have found my efforts thwarted by commitments, interruptions, or a general sense of the futility of the cleaning itself. When all things remain equal, the recommendations make sense: dishes daily, and laundry, too. Maintain, maintain, maintain. But that’s the thing about things. They’re variable.

Cosmic Balance

The only evidence of balance I see here is in kids who take turns with dramatic illness, returning to their devilish selves (Tasmanian, I mean) just in time for whatever ails them to be sneezed onto me. Or, my tired slowness from the seeming perpetual darkness that is Canadian winter is finally overcome, and then – cramps. You get the idea.

I sometimes question whether my frequent failure to keep up is an indication of a laziness or immaturity on my part. Like somehow, other moms know something that I don’t.  Maybe, I need to try harder for my family, find more time in the day and more energy to make everything happen at once. I’m slowly making peace with this notion, having analyzed my situation to death in the absence of the magic wand I so desperately require. Besides, my husband didn’t marry ‘lazy’ and my parents didn’t raise it. So here I am, left with the understanding that unless I stop writing altogether, the expectation of order will remain a hallucinogenic construct, bred of someone’s delusional mind – until the little kid years are over.

Aiming for Sanity

Since not writing is out of the question, these will be the times when I learn who my friends are. These will be the years that I look back on, when things are easier, and, with perspective offered from the vantage point of hindsight, give myself a break.  When kids are sick, and hair’s a mess and scarcely surviving is all that can be done – it’s okay- it isn’t time to start cleaning house.

Parenthood is an uphill battle for most of us, save a few saints who were put on earth solely to make other mothers feel like they didn’t get the memo. Amidst gauntlets of toys, shoes and washed but unfolded laundry that my husband tries to clothe himself from at 5 in the morning, we do the best we can. Some days we do okay, some days we might as well not have gotten out of bed at all. But if you accept the fact that, for now, you can’t win at this game, you get comfortable with participation points and the oft underappreciated consolation prize called Sanity.

On days like this I lean into this thought: that these are the years, and they won’t be here forever.