Pioneer Woman and Me

Cover of "The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipe...

Cover via Amazon

Thanks to a dear subscription-having friend, I finally got to read the entirety of the recent New Yorker piece on The Pioneer Woman, otherwise known as Ree Drummond, otherwise known as one of my favorite, must-read, daily-check websites.

Like many of her readers, I suspect that Ree and I don’t have much in common: I have half as many kids as she does and far fewer animals living on my much smaller (and very urban) property. My husband is not a cattle rancher, I don’t homeschool, and I suspect we have different beliefs on faith, politics and many other subjects. I am also not a savvy businesswoman, and I don’t make money from blogging, much less the “solid million dollars” quoted in the article.

But we are both mothers, and bloggers, part of the 14% of women online in the US who are bloggers. While I do have access to a far wider variety of spices and ingredients than Drummond can probably find in Pawhuska, Oklahoma, I am very fond of the kind of cooking she does, and I am extremely fond of the photo-heavy way in which she posts her recipes. I love her accessible, funny, quirky way of writing, and her images are a wonderful visual treat. I appreciate that this woman, with a very full and rich life of her own, still felt the need to reach out, to express herself to online readers, to have a corner of her life where her voice was heard, independent of being a well-known figure in her own world. I don’t think she started her blog to get rich, and if you read her early entries or have read her from the early days on, I think you would agree.

So why do I rely so much on my daily serving of the Pioneer Woman? I love her recipes: her French Breakfast Puffs and sherried tomato soup have become traditional parts of our family Christmas brunch, and her crash hot potatoes and twice-baked potatoes are some of my favorite side dishes. I own a copy of her The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl and plan to cook my way through it eventually and will definitely buy her second one, coming out sometime soon, I think. I also use Tasty Kitchen frequently and have gotten some of my favorite reliable recipes from there, like this one for cheddar meatloaves.

I also love the (admittedly packaged version) stories of her life that she shares with her readers, which despite stereotypes, are not always completely sunny. Sure, she posts tons of pictures of her photogenic and adorable family, but she’s talked frankly about her parents’ divorce as well as her developmentally disabled brother and his drinking problem. I don’t own The Pioneer Woman: Black Heels to Tractor Wheels–A Love Story yet, but am planning on it when it comes out in paperback, even though I’ve read all the website posts already, and I will definitely see the movie when it comes out. As a blogger myself, I appreciate that she doesn’t share every single detail of her life, and that she manages to feel like a woman you would know and like without baring her entire soul and while still preserving her husband and children’s privacy as much as she can. It’s a fine and tricky line to walk, and she does it well.

Do I envy her success? Not really. Sure, I would love to have a million dollars (who wouldn’t?), but not if it meant trading my life for hers (though I would certainly love to take a weekend on her ranch once in awhile). I am not a business woman, nor do I aspire to be a professional blogger; my life as a teacher and writer is perfectly suited for me, and I don’t think I would last long on a cattle ranch. What I do envy is her seeming grace, her ability to embrace the chaos, and the way she never appears flustered. Even though I know that is only the surface she presents to the world, it’s a surface I’d like to resemble more closely.

Nine

When my girls turned seven, I saw two small girls who still stayed close to my side, whose world was still unclouded and who still preferred my company to most others.

When my girls turned eight, I knew they were moving more towards independence, and I delighted in seeing their personalities blossom.

Now that my girls are nine, it’s been poignant and amazing to see them taking more and more steps away from us. No longer do they rush to hug me when I come home from a long day, and rarely do they knock me off my feet with exuberant affection. They can stay at home alone for a little while now, and they know how to use a cellphone and check their email accounts. They can use the microwave to heat up their own dinner, and they can make their own lunches. They can swing a bat and throw a softball.

Some of the constants still endure; Sophie is still musical and comic and animal-loving, while Lucy is still conscientious and artistic with a dry edge to her humor. Sophie is still more of a cuddler, while Lucy is less physically affectionate, but makes beautiful cards for friends and family. I know we still have a close relationship, though it’s evolved into bedtime “private talks” and discussions about adult topics where I don’t always have the answers; this week, for example, I had to try explaining affirmative action and the existence of historically black universities. I am so proud of them, and can’t wait to spend the weekend in New York together, celebrating what wonderful girls they are.

But, oh they are growing! Since they were born, I’ve jokingly referred to them as my sidekicks, my tagalong twins who keep me company every day. But suddenly the day when they will move into their own worlds, heroines of their own tales of wonder and adventure, seems very, very close.

Will Bribe for Spinach

Légumes

Image via Wikipedia

My daughter Lucy eats spinach now. She eats it with tuna salad, in tacos, wrapped around strawberries, and she eats it willingly, with no fights. She’ll also eat roasted potatoes now, skins on, and later this week, she’ll be trying broccoli and cauliflower.

If you remember, eating your veggies has always been a sore subject in my house. Not for my former-vegetarian husband, but definitely for me, and for my girls. Since I’m the primary (working mom) chef around here, we have definitely not eaten enough vegetables, and our palates have not been very adventurous. But now my girls will try new recipes and ingredients; we’ve also got fish sticks cued up in our menu plans, and I think I can get Lucy to try chicken noodle soup soon.

How did we do it? Quite simply, we paid them.

No, we didn’t keep a stack of dollar bills at the dinner table; instead, we used sticker charts, settling on a system where each girl could earn one sticker for trying new food, one for trying a new vegetable, and one for finishing a full portion. After they had earned stickers for full portions several times, they could no longer earn more stickers for that particular food. Each sticker is worth a dollar, and they’ve been slowly accumulating, to be paid out when we visit the American Girl Place in NYC for their ninth birthdays. I think the system will continue as well, incorporating other specific tasks for which they can earn stickers.

Bribing kids for eating vegetables or for good behavior is controversial, for sure, with many arguing that children don’t learn to be proud of themselves or to see the inherent value in things like vegetables or good grades if they are bribed into liking them.

I see the value in those arguments, but I also see that this method has brought us success, after about six months of applying it in consistent ways. Does Lucy always like the vegetable or new food? No, not at all. But she has tried foods (like grapefruit) I would never have expected her to try, and I think she is definitely proud of herself for taking on what is, for her, a very difficult challenge. Recently, she came home from school bursting with pride and excitement because she had tried the salsa a friend had in her lunchbox; she clearly felt very proud of herself, and enjoyed being able to share this taste with her friend. I am pretty confident that it would have been years in the future (if ever) before she would have taken this step on her own, and I’m also confident that she sees how new experiences and overcoming resistance can bring joy to your life.

For me, I am happy to think we might be saving her from the years I spent with a very restricted list of foods I would accept, which did not include nearly as much as it does today. Spending years with bad habits and then slowly renovating them over more years may have taught me some valuable lessons, but I don’t think they are more valuable than simply beginning with better habits in the first place. Combining the stickers with money has also taught them both the value of saving over a period of time to get what you want, and that you have to think about financial priorities, all lessons I’ve always hoped to be able to teach them.

So, if you want this summed up, here it is: I bribed my kids to eat vegetables, and it’s been just wonderful. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Grandmere

My Grandmere died yesterday, my father’s mother. She had been very ill for a long time, and had suffered many complications from her lupus, so it was actually a blessing to know she was no longer in pain.

“Blessing” is the kind of word she would have used; she had the kind of rock-solid faith that theoretically fills every church pew, but in reality, is often not evident. She believed wholeheartedly in the rituals and ceremonies of Catholicism, went to Mass almost every day, was never without a rosary and spoke as easily of Jesus, Mary and God as you might of your children or parents. Of course, I’m not entirely privy to her interior life over the decades, but I would be truly shocked to hear that her faith ever wavered. I think the only thing that could have competed with faith in her life was family, and for her, of course, they were probably inextricably linked, twin guiding principles that never let her down.

She and my grandfather had the kind of marriage you don’t always see anymore, the kind that spans many decades, the kind where one partner seems less whole without the other. Once he died, she began to speak of meeting him again soon in heaven, and what a joyous day that would be when it came. When I think of them, I remember them on the dance floor at my wedding, moving fluidly and gracefully in time with each other, showing the youngsters how it’s done.

All in all, losing her is certainly losing a part of my childhood, but for me, I think she represented so much that also seems lost, the traditional values that seem foreign to my educated-urban-liberal life today. While I won’t be returning to church or joining a country club in the deep South anytime soon, she has certainly been part of shaping the woman I am today, and the woman I think I’ll become.

Gratitude Journals

Moleskine notebook.

Image via Wikipedia

One of my New Year’s projects was to begin keeping a gratitude journal, which was probably inevitable given all the issues of the Oprah magazine I’ve read over the years and Oprah’s intense focus on gratitude.

I resisted doing this for a long time, quite honestly, because the connotations of it, the way it’s often talked about, in a kind of vibrations manifesting way that is a little off-putting for me. But then I do honestly believe that you have to figure out what is important to you, and then move those values into the center of your life, as much as possible, which is very kind of woo-woo, Reverb 10 thing to think. So I guess you could say I’m alternately drawn to and repelled by this kind of thinking.

However, after keeping a gratitude journal for the past few months, I can honestly say it’s become a truly valuable part of my end-of-day routine. It helps me sum up my day, focus on the positive, and remember what worked well for me that day, in addition to how to think about negative events in more positive ways. What I’m grateful for has varied from strength and patience to banana bread and “Glee” (especially all the episodes featuring Kurt’s dad!), and I enjoy mixing the tangible and the abstract. I think it’s helped me gain perspective when days have been tough, and helped me clear my mind when anxiety threatens to keep me up too late.

Is it a perfect solution? No. Have I missed days? Yes. But it has made a measurable and definite impact on my life, and I look forward to continuing it.  It looks exactly like the notebook in the photo, and I think it will be wonderful to read it at the end of the year and reflect on the year.  I think sometimes too about doing something similar with my kids, but I haven’t totally worked that out yet.

Recently, I read an interesting post about work journals, which is very intriguing to me as well. I think I do a lot of reflecting about teaching here and in general, but writing about actual school events and politics is not something I would ever do in this space. But in a Moleskine I keep by my bed, next to my gratitude journal? That is definitely an intriguing idea.

What about you–are you a journaler?

Poetry Every Day

Cover of "Poetry 180: A Turning Back to P...

Cover of Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry

I know, I can’t stop posting about poetry lately!

One of the effects of my March Madness tournament that I didn’t expect was how much I would enjoy hearing a poem read every day at the beginning of class. It was simple and brief: a student read the poem, they took a quiet minute to reflect, and then they voted, but it was a nice way to transition into class and set the tone for literary adventures. Sometimes I would add a thought or two of my own, but not often, and I think the students enjoyed being able to react to a poem without the pressure of needing to “get it” or dissect it right away.

So now I’m wondering: what if I read a poem every day, all year, every class, just to start us off? I’m thinking that Billy Collins‘ two anthologies, Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry and 180 More: Extraordinary Poems for Every Day, would offer plenty of choices, and I trust his judgement for quality and appropriateness. Also, this way I wouldn’t need to scavenge through my own collection, but I could always supplement if I felt like it.  I’ll have to think more about it, but so far, it’s a very attractive idea.

I’m taking it as a good sign that while I am feeling my usual end-of-year exhaustion, I’m not exhausted enough to stop dreaming about next year!

Blogging With My Students

Way back last August, I wrote a really optimistic post about all the new endeavors I wanted to try this year in my teaching. In the spirit of reflecting on my teaching being one of the main reasons I still blog, I wanted to look back at this list and see how many I actually implemented.

Sigh. Sometimes reflecting is depressing.

First, my major accomplishments:

  • my students did blog all year, a blog for each text as well as a year-long blog for grammar and writing workshop activities.
  • we did connect with another 9th grade group in our study of Macbeth, which is currently ongoing but also currently unbloggable.

Now, for the misfires.

  • I set up a teacher blog for myself and just never used it; I think I had too many vague ideas for how to use it and need to instead focus on one concrete strategy to start with, and then I could add more later.
  • I didn’t do anything with wikis; the way they are set up on my website are much less intuitive than I had hoped they would be.
  • I didn’t add current events into my student blogging at all.

The aspect I’m most sorry I didn’t implement is blogging with my students. I’ve done this before in my college classes, and I’ve been blogging myself for about eight years now, so it only seems natural, but somehow it just hasn’t gelled yet. I read great articles on the advantages and practical pieces on the challenges, and I see what students can do and what teachers have done, but I still haven’t figured out the best way for me to begin.

This year, I am proud of what I did manage to accomplish, and will try to remember in the future that being overly ambitious can leave me frustrated and even overshadow anything I do manage to complete.

Better luck next year, I guess.