Season-end Banquet: Do You Go?

At the end of every season at the rink comes the banquet. For those of you who are not hockey or ringette moms, the banquet is a meal with benefits. The venue is likely a hall, the kind where wedding receptions (of the country variety are held). The tickets will cost you roughly the cost of a top-end meal at a roadhous-style restaurant. The kid will likely get some kind of memento with his/her team logo emblazoned on it somewhere. This memento will like be lost and/or broken within a year. The food will likely be decent, and the company will be as it was all season. So, if you had a blast with the other parents all season, ride the wave and head to the banquet. If you think you may blow a gasket if you have to see that woman one more time, pass. If your kid desperately wants to go, you may want to reconsider. If you think your particular kid will be bored, won't eat the food, or will become a menace to society within 15 minutes of arrival, do everyone a favour and stay home.

To sum up:
- The season-end banquet is not an exciting event. The people sitting next to you will make or break it.
- If the tickets cost more than you want to spend, don't buy 'em. You are under no obligation (unless you are the coach).
- If at all possible, take only the kid involved. And, involve that kid in the to-go-or-not-to-go decision.

4 questions that can help you assess your space

Today I'm going to head into the kitchen and assess the space. We recently shifted our large kitchen table into the family room (voila: one fabulous dining room), shifted the family room to the living room (previously a more or less unused room) and created a breakfast bar in the kitchen. We turfed a couple of large, down-at-the-heel chairs. We feel like we moved into a new house.

My DH has suggested using the breakfast bar for storage with out of site access from our basement stairwell. I was charmed. There's a reason I like this guy so much.

Then I panicked. What would I put in there?

Stupid problem, I'll admit.

So, this leads me to today's little project. I'm going to take a good hard look at the contents of my kitchen cupboards. Everything gets asked the same questions:
1. Are you necessary or desirable? If I don't use it or like it, or (gasp) it's an expired food item, out it goes.
2. Do you belong in the kitchen? If this is an item that would be better placed in another room of the house, it is taking up valuable real estate for no reason. Gondee.
3. Are you as close as possible to your action zone? If I can move an item to a different location and save myself from steps during meal prep, baking, or dishwasher unloading, the change of address cards are in the mail, baby.
4. Are you easily accessible? If it is difficult to get to this item, find it, or retrieve it, it's time for a new solution.

Wish me luck!

This is Not a New Year's Post

It's a Half Year post.

See, I have school-age children, and am of the work-from-home segment of momhood. So my "year" begins in September, and seems to effectively end with the waning of June. Sort of like a politician. Call it a fiscal eight months.

The crux of it is that we are a one computer household. I do the vast majority of my work on said computer. Children of a certain age spend a lot of time at the computer, whether using it or simply distracting the person who is using it. Ergo, if I want to get work done on the computer, I must get it done when they aren't around, or when they are asleep. Assuming that I need sleep too (and I do, or my brain may as well be Jello with shredded carrots in it -- useless, tasteless, and disgusting), school days are golden.

I'll confess that I don't think I made the best use of those golden days these past three months. Now, to do better. Make a plan. Tuck in all the fluttering edges of stuff that must be done and forge ahead.

5 Reasons Calendars Don't Work

We try, as a family, to keep our lives simple. The parental types in the house do not belong to groups. I am a stay-at-home mom, and volunteer locally once a week. I also put in a small amount of time for the progeny's activities (one each, only). Family events are not so plentiful as to be overwhelming. Dental, medical and other appointments are all of a regular, almost routine nature. The calendar has plenty of entries, but not to the point of saturation.

But this morning, it didn't work.

Here's why:
1. I didn't write everything down. My volunteer time wasn't there, because I do it every week, and trusted myself to "remember".
2. I didn't look ahead, last week, to see what was happening this week.
3. I didn't plan menus for this week.
4. I didn't write down the appointment when I found out about it.
5. I didn't read what my eyes couldn't see.

Of course, the upshot of this is that it wasn't the calendar that wasn't working: it was me. Notice that all five reasons begin with "I". So, to make your calendar work for you, like an unpaid assistant, here's what you need to do:
1. Write down all events *as you learn of them*. This allows you to see conflicts early and deal with them. Whether that means cancelling one event, calling for help, or rescheduling, the earlier the better.
2. Check the calendar each week to see what is ahead. Make adjustments as necessary.
3. Plan menus for the week, using the calendar as your guide. This lets you plan a quick meal on the night you really need the quick meal, and lets you leave the elaborate meals to the nights with more breathing room. It also keeps you from all-night baking sessions to meet the social requirements.
4. Write everything down on the calendar. Once you become dependent on a calendar, items not listed on the calendar cease to exist. They disappear until they are upon you, and life suddenly seems far more complicated than it actually is.
5. Look at your calendar. Read it. Use it.

Is Laundry Ever Done?

Well, no. Sorry. While you're doing laundry you're wearing clothes, drying your hands on a towel.

Producing more laundry.

Shift the focus. It is possible to finish a load of laundry. So focus on that. Have you washed, dried, folded and put away a load of laundry today? If you have, put a tick beside laundry for the day.

There will be more laundry tomorrow. But for today, it's done.

Easy Stock Recipe

I remember after Christmas dinner one year, my MIL's astonished reaction when she discovered that neither I nor my SIL made stock...that we would let that turkey carcass go to waste. At the time my defence was that my time was worth more to me than the $2.19 that a Tetra pak of chicken stock would cost me.

I think differently now.

A. I make pretty nearly everything we eat from scratch.
B. I want my grocery bill to be as small as possible.
C. I figured out how to make stock with the smallest amount of fuss and time output possible.

Here's how I do it:

1. After the roast turkey or chicken dinner, I remove the meat from the bones. This is easiest while the bird is still warm; simply pull it off. Slice it if you like.

2. Even before I do the dishes, I cut up onion, celery, and carrots. These are the key vegetables for making a good stock.

3. Put the vegetables and bones together on a plate, in a plastic container, or in a plastic baggie (whatever you use to stash leftovers in your fridge). You may want to separate these into two or three batches, depending on the size of the bones.

4. The next morning, I toss one batch into my CrockPot and cover with water. I cook this on the low setting for about eight hours.

5. Scoop out the bones and the vegetables. Strain the liquid (I use a strainer lined with paper towel). This will leave you with a clear broth and very little of the fat.

6. Transfer the stock to ice cube trays. For me, one batch fills about five trays. Put these in the freezer.

7. Once the stock is frozen, you can either use it from the trays, or pop out the cubes and put them into a container or plastic baggie.

That's it. Simple, painless, and frugal.

Tournaments: 5 Tips for Parents

If you have a child who plays sports, then tournaments are also part of your life.

Tournaments eat up time, money and peace of mind faster than a kid can get in and out of his/her equipment. But, there are ways to minimize the damage.

1. Plan your route to each game. Yes, this means looking at a map. Talk to other parents, too; they'll often have tips about reaching certain rinks or fields, parking, etc. Planning your route also involves padding travel time for traffic slowdowns, weather and human error.

2. Plan your downtime. This is especially important when you're on the road for a tournament. Online maps often give you the option to search the area for restaurants, coffee shops and attractions.

3. Plan your meals and snacks. Where are you going to eat? If the game is at noon, will you have lunch before, or after?

4. Plan to socialize. While the kids are getting ready, conversation with other parents will be your main activity. You may be able to stake out a spot in the stands early and get some work done, but don't count on it.

5. Plan your budget. How much will you need for meals, entertainment and gas? Are you willing to shell out for photos, trinkets, raffle tickets? (If you're not, tell the kids ahead of time. Much easier than a conversation in front of the raffle table.) Decide your limit, then take cash. Small bills are best. Get this the day before the tournament, from your local bank or ABM. Nothing is worse than looking for a bank machine in unfamiliar surroundings.

Surviving a tournament is not only possible, it can be fun. The key, of course, is planning. Make your game plan, stick to it, and you might just make the finals with your brain still intact.