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Browsing Tag: pumpkin

Healthy-ish Pumpkin Muffins

My girls take a snack to school every day, and it’s turned into a struggle. If they had their druthers, they’d happily eat nothing but yogurt-in-a-tube or Swedish fish every day of their lives, but, unfortunately for them, they don’t have their druthers. They have mine. (And at this point I don’t even know what a druther is. But let’s carry on.) They’ll take fruit to school, but only if they don’t have to bite into it (“We don’t have time for all that!” they wail). They’ll ask for a bag of Doritos, and I just laugh and laugh (“But [insert classmate’s name here] [and here] [and here] always gets to pack Doritos! Why can’t we?” they weep). And then finally I give up and throw some pretzels at them and tell them if they don’t like it, they don’t have to eat it, but that’s a waste of food and sorry, no, I don’t think your teachers would really appreciate if I…

With the Pumpkin, Of Course

My mom skipped a lunch with her girlfriends today to watch Cian in his 10-minute long Halloween parade. She then, despite my not-so-forceful protests, whisked him away so that I could go home and focus on writing (more on that later–let’s just say that this writer mama is working hard). I admit that I got a little teary. It could be lack of sleep. It could be from being overwhelmed. It could be that crying a little is my usual reaction to someone showing me kindness. But as we were switching cars outside of my son’s school, she looked at me: “Do you want to cook with a pumpkin?” I squinted at her. “Huh?’ And she handed me a pumpkin. It was this huge thing meant for cooking, grown by a friend of hers, and my Mom had happily taken it from her to pass along to me. If you don’t know how much I love a pumpkin, there you go. I may have hugged it. And then, as if my day weren’t already made (the little things), she slipped me a bottle…

They Change the World, I Wax Nostalgic and Shiver

When I see teachers now, or talk to them, I get a weird little ache somewhere behind my ribs. It’s a lot like nostalgia and a little like jealousy, and I know it’s still there because whenever I interact with a teacher, it’s almost like I want to jump up and down and wave my arms and shout, “I did it, too! Honest! I was there, in the trenches, just like you! I impacted kids’ lives! I was INVOLVED! I was important in the world, too!!” This makes being a parent during teacher conferences really fun for all parties involved, let me tell you (“Ms. Ferguson, would you please stop talking? Just a little?”). Today was the rescheduled fall field trip for Quinlan’s four-year-old preschool class. She and her friends WERE SO EXCITED. They couldn’t go to their first one because of bad weather, and even though today was supposed to be chilly and windy and possibly rainy, by golly, they were bundled up in their layers and sent along on their school bus because this was a FIELD TRIP, and field trips…