ingrid

Francis has “Mis Noticias” (“My News”) at her Spanish immersion school, so almost every day she comes up with some piece of news that is charmingly 5 year old.  I think yesterday her news was a picture of her in her flower girl dress for Clementine’s upcoming wedding.

 

My news for today is sort of silly and has to do with a lunch box.  My friend Nancy from Eugene makes these lunchboxes:

 

They are very cleverly and durably designed.  Even though I sort of balked at spending the initial dough on one for Francis, after she went through TWO other lunch boxes, the dollar amount for this one that would actually last seemed a lot more reasonable.  You can completely unsnap the thing and send it through the wash, which means that there is no stinky spoiled milk smell that can collect in there.  I bought one for Brad last year, as a nice black lunchbox looks a lot more professional than the ratty bag that he was carrying.  A year later, with daily use, it looks just as good as when I bought it.  (In case you are interested:  http://www.lunchsense.com/).

 

Anyway, Francis has a packed lunch every day of school.  About two or three weeks ago, she just stopped eating her lunch, or rather, stopped eating any reasonable amount of her lunch.  She started to subsist on 3 grapes and a drink of water, or one bite of sandwich and two crackers.  I was really confused.  I remember hearing about those weirdo people who thought they could live by extracting nourishment from the air, Breathairians, and worrying about Francis’ future as one of them, a SHORT future.  I don’t want to be a crazy mother pushing food, and I in general, try to avoid that sort of power struggle as it just seems weird to push something as natural as eating.  I had heard from a pediatrician that no kid would actually starve his or herself, so in general, I’ve tried to let her own body dictate her needs, but this struck me as more of a mystery than anything.

At her parent-teacher conference, I asked her teacher about snack times at school as I suspected that Francis was either filling up on crackers at snack or holding out for something “better” from her peers.  That wasn’t really the case, but he suggested that I try to “pack things she liked”.  Huh.  Like cupcakes?  Ice cream?  Anyway, I sort of dismissed that suggestion in my mind as nutrition is so important to me that it seems way beyond the kids LIKING it.  Who cares what they like?!  I’m talking about things that are GOOD FOR YOU (so, yes, I am controlling in other ways…).  Anyway, after her lunch came back two days ago with one bite out of a sandwich, and she informed me that she threw away her hard boiled egg as it was “too cracked”, I told her that I was sick of doing all the work of packing a lunch for nothing and that she would pack her own lunch from now on.  SO there!

Yesterday she forgot to pack her lunch, which I think was a good lesson for her to see how time-consuming it is, (I did send her something at the last minute).  This morning, however, Francis packed her own lunch!  I was worried that each lunch from now on would be lemon curd or jam on bread, but this is what was in it:

one small container of green peas

one container of carrots

a thermos of water

She was so pleased with herself, and I laughed at the HUGE irony of what I might pack versus what she might pack.  Who was the bigger vegetable pusher?  I did insist on her adding a chunk of bread to her meager fare.  She turned down the offer of some cheese too, but whatever… she’ll live.

 

In other news, I have a lot of music happening this week and month!  I played yesterday at the kids’ Atrium class, where I was horrified by Zephyr’s behavior.  The music went well, but I almost wish that I had remained blissfully ignorant of how he acts there.  I will be doing music for the St Nicholas celebration this weekend at church.  It should be sort of fun.  Some awesome old guy is dressing up as St Nick and leading the kids in a lantern procession around the church.  It’ll be fun for the hipsters on Alberta Street to gawk at the crazy Catholics.

My gospel choir director last night taught our choir a song for me to lead, a prospect that fills me with joy and DREAD!  I don’t understand my deep yearning to sing and perform and my huge fear to, well, basically do the same.  I am so afraid and so thrilled and from moment to moment, don’t know which one is more powerful.  I am going to be solo-ing (or in gospel speak, “leading”) on a groovy version of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”, and I can hear the possibilities for diva-esque stylings.  Just the thought of it sends chills of terror down my spine.  We perform December 28th, so I have a couple weeks to get over it and learn to believe in myself.  Think, “I am awesome!  I am awesome!”.  Gospel style singing has no real room for any lack of self-esteem, I suppose because you are testifying for Jesus.  If you sound good and go all out, you aren’t seen as showing off, but rather, making a joyful noise and really communicating the words for a higher purpose.  It isn’t the space for a shrinking violet, and I know that I won’t perform well if I can’t get over my fear and insecurity.  I sort of have to grab the mic, take a breath, and try to blow them away.  There is just no other option.  God help me!

In: Music and philosophical musings, My super freakin' cute kids, food | | #