Cooking with Sam

My mom's mom was a very successful Jewish caterer in South Jersey. Back in the day, she did Bas Mitzvahs, weddings and events.  Her food melted in your mouth and 40 years later, people still talk about her cooking.  My grandmother didn't know how to cook for only 2, there was always a ton of food at the table when you came over for dinner.  Her favorite thing to read were cookbooks. I miss my grandmother greatly and fondly remember letting me help her roll out the rugelach.  Oh my, they were the best. 

I can safely say without hurting anyone's feelings that my mom did not inherit my grandmother's natural ability to cook.  In fact, I have a ton of examples to the contrary that even when following a recipe exactly, something doesn't work out.  And as for me, I'm just happy to get dinner on the table most nights.  I am not looking to change the world with my cooking and the less time I can spend in the kitchen, the better.

But, if there was a cooking gene and someone were to inherit it, it is Samantha.  At four years old, Sam is my right-hand in the kitchen.  She is very quick to put on an apron and pull up her step stool.  She wants to be a part of every dish I make.  She asks questions about what we're making, how long it will take to cook and what ingredients we need.  She is not afraid to stand at the stove and stir continuously or to work her dull knife and cut stuff up. 

This is Sam wearing her apron. 
She made it at mom-mom's house over the summer.

Sam rolling out the pizza dough.
 

When dinner is served, we all thank Sam for making our meal.  The smile on Sam's face extends from one ear to the other.  She loves getting complimented for a job well done.  One of her favorite things to make is scrambled eggs for Ian in the morning. 

Sam is an excellent student.  I can only imagine the kvelling my grandmom syl would do if she had Sam in her kitchen helping her.

Um, hi!

Lately, with increasing frequency, I've had people notice me and give me that look that they know me.  They'll wave or nod their head with a big smile from across the room, or even come up and start a conversation.  More times than not, I have absolutely no idea who these people are. 

It would be very embarrassing if I admitted I had no idea who they are, so I play it off.  I am the friendliest stranger you'll ever meet! 

A few weeks ago, I was standing next to a woman I do know in the office at gymnastics and another woman comes up to me and starts telling me about her mom and how she isn't doing well.  Her prognosis doesn't look good.  This woman looks at my friend and says, "It's ok I'm unloading like this, Robyn and I go way back."   WHAT?!?!  We do?  At this point, I wasn't sure if I should be hugging her in consolation over the news of her mother or offer to bring her family dinner.  Just how far back do we go?  No clue.   Hopefully I played it off appropriately.

While at a restaurant in Arlington, having dinner with my friend Ivy, we stood in line waiting for a table.  The place was unusually packed because of a fundraiser underway.  As more and more people were walking through the door, a ton of people looked right at me, smiled in recognition and said hi.  I just played it off, smiled right back at them and said "Hello."   I haven't lived in Arlington over 8 years and had no idea who any of these people were.  It was too funny and my friend and I got a good laugh about it. 

Voting for the election took place at Ian's elementary school.  You can just imagine how many people spotted me in line during those whole 15 minutes we were there.  I was constantly nodding and saying hi back to everyone who looked at me and said hello, with a visible sign of recognition on their face.  Fortunately I did know one of these women and could actually have a conversation interacting instead of racking my brain trying to figure out if I should be doing more than smiling, pretending like I knew them.

People seem to know me wherever I go.  I wish I knew them back.  My friend, Heather, has the most amazing memory for names and faces.  She will remember seeing someone from like 20 years ago as if she just met them 5 minutes before. I am continually impressed with this magical memory skill she has.  I seem to use my memory for less useful info; like what seat I was sitting in at the movie theatre watching almost every movie I've ever been to.  What good is that going to get me?

It's too bad that we don't live in a world, where I can be completely honest and say, "You seem like a really nice person.  Can you tell me how I know you?".   Or, what if we all just walked around with name tags on?  Wouldn't it make life so much easier?

Flu shot fun? Oh yeah!

Some people dread getting the flu shot each year.  Not my Toppall team and me.  We make getting a flu shot an event!  Our pediatrician offers 3 flu shot clinics each year.  The clinics are two hour blocks of time, where you walk in, get the traditional shot or the mist in the nose and then walk out.  It's easy-breezy! 

My friend Beth takes her two kids (same ages as Ian and Sam) to the same pediatrician as us.  The doctors offices are located in Fairfax Corner and conveniently situated one floor above the Ben and Jerry's.  Seriously, how great is that!?!? 

Beth and I purposely pick the flu shot clinic that is offered on a weekday evening and meet for dinner beforehand.  Our restaurant of choice is Rio Grande.  Afterwards, the kids get the vaccination (or as Ian calls it "The flu up the nose") and then we finish our outing with ice cream at Ben and Jerry's. 

We've been doing this for 4 years now and have no plans of stopping.  It is so much fun for everyone that the kids don't even know what hit them when walking into the pediatrician's office.

Getting your medicine goes down so much easier with good friends, good food, and a good time.



How can you not want this frozen yogurt with a cutie-patootie like Sam?
 

Superhero!

Faster than a three year old wearing out a toy.  More forgetful than the absent-minded professor.  Able to induce a sense of deja vu similar to seeing a set of identical triplets.

It's a bird, it's a plane, no it's Jeff losing his umbrella again.

Singlehandedly, my husband is protecting the greater Washington D.C. Metro area one raindrop at a time.  Each time it looks like bad weather is in the forecast or even hinted at, Jeff reaches in the hall closet for an umbrella to bring with him to work.   And each day, upon his return home at the end of the day, he tells another tale of losing (misplacing) his umbrella at Union Station.

It has happened so frequently that I can't help but break out into giggles when he calls to tell me he is at the train station waiting for the VRE, and then inevitably, he groans and says with a pained voice, "OH NO!  Not again!!".   At some point, he has put the umbrella down and then walked away.

I am sure the people at Union Station must be thinking this is their lucky day.  A few more months of Jeff working downtown and it will be everyone's lucky day at some point.

Anyone know if they sell umbrellas in bulk at Costco?   It's time to stock up again.

Vote!

Even if the guy we voted for doesn't win,
we are still winners for getting out to vote.

As I write this (Tuesday evening, just before the polls close in VA), I have no idea who has won the presidential election.  But I do know, that I absolutely love living in a country that allows us the freedom to chose who we want.  We can vote for Obama, Romney, or even write-in a candidate if we so feel the urge. 

Even if we can't unanimously agree on who should be in the White House, I am grateful that voting is a right we have.  One that shouldn't be taken for granted.   How fortunate we are that our voices are heard and our votes get counted.  There is no better place to live than the United States of America. 

I felt such pride going to vote on Tuesday and taking Ian with me to experience the process.  I wanted him to feel like he was a part of it.  We chose the electronic version for voting and Ian pressed all the buttons, after appropriately letting him know which ones to push.  When it came time to the final big, red button to "VOTE", I said to Ian I wanted to get a picture of him pushing it.  He looked at me and whispered, "No, Mom!  I'm not really supposed to be voting."   It was super cute and the button got pushed too quickly before I could get the camera ready.

Even Sam got in on the voting process and her Pre-K class had an election on which snack to serve -- noodles or crackers.  I asked her how they voted...did they raise their hands to show which one they wanted?  Sam replied with, "No, we had to keep our answers a secret.  No one could know what we were picking.  We had to cross something out on a piece of paper and put it in the box."   In case this particular election doesn't get announced on the nightly news, the majority picked crackers, despite Sam, Ainsley and Jacob picking noodles.  So much for confidentiality among the 4 year olds.

I remember fondly the first time I ever got to vote.  It was the 1992 election and I was in college.  The election had Bill Clinton and H. Ross Perot running against the incumbent George H.W. Bush.  How great that all 3 men running were left handed?  I was so giddy and excited to be able to vote that on my way out of the local voting hall, I had to restrain myself from hugging the complete stranger walking out the same time I did.  I really don't think this man would've appreciated being assaulted on the way to his car.  One of my friends in college came up with the idea to call the Democratic National Headquarters and ask where the party was going to be held for the volunteers.  We were told the Hilton in downtown D.C.   The four of us crashed the volunteer's party, celebrating everyone's hard work (not ours, of course!) during the campaign.  It was beyond exciting being there and I remember going to a pay phone and calling my mom to tell her to look for me on tv.  My friends and I stood out among the thousands of partygoers, because as soon as we walked in the gigantic ballroom, we noticed the table centerpieces and quickly made them into wearable headwear.  The centerpieces were patriotic red, white, and blue standard-sized cardboard hats with red, white and blue carnations sticking out of the top of the hats.  I can imagine how silly we looked, but we got caught up in the moment and was having a blast.  I remember people asking us where we got our cool looking hats and some even offered us money for them.  

When the results were announced, during a live broadcast at the party, the entire room erupted into cheers and applause.  It was pretty amazing.  As the party was winding down, we jumped into a cab and went to Au Pied De Cochon in Georgetown (totally dating myself here -- this restaurant has been closed for some time), because they were opened late, late into the wee hours of the morning.  When the four of us walked in (still wearing the centerpieces on our heads), the entire restaurant clapped and cheered for us.  It was pretty darn cool.  Ah, how wonderful to be living in Washington, D.C. during this time. 

My subsequent voting experiences have been incredibly dull compared to the one in 1992.  However, yesterday made me all giddy again with joy as I showed Ian democracy in action.

No matter how this election turns out, we will always have another chance to have our voices heard and our votes counted.  That's just one of the reasons that makes this country so fantastic.

Butter on our popcorn, please.

It's well known that I love the movies.  My love affair with the movies goes way back to when I was a little girl.  I can remember going to the theatre and seeing every movie that came out.  I even worked in a movie theatre in high school (Florida) and then again during college (Washington, D.C.). 

There is just something magical about watching a movie and being transported to a different time and place.  I have some very distinct genres that I do not enjoy -- horror, western, and period/historical movies, but all others are fair game.  If its a chick flick and a comedy, I'm there.  A drama with a sappy ending, I'm there.  An action film starring any number of leading male stars and I'm there.  There is no twisting my arm to go.  Just showing up, with a big bucket of popcorn on my lap and watching a script coming to life is entertainment enough.  Even the movies that bomb and make us cringe while watching it, is fodder for many laughs for months to come with my friends and I. 

I've been patiently waiting for Ian to get old enough to show him some of my favorite movies.  Movies that are age appropriate and he'd understand and appreciate.  I think we've finally gotten to the point that we can do PG movies.  We watched "Back to the future" and Ian instantly wanted to see "Back to the future 2" and "Back to the future 3".  That's the kind of reaction I like to see.  How cool for him that he didn't have to wait two and three years between the next installments of the movie.

During our week at the beach, we brought the DVD of "Big" with us.  Got to love Tom Hanks.  It was really neat pausing the movie explaining to Ian how iconic the scene with Josh and his boss playing the keyboard piano at FAO Schwartz has now become. 

Last week, it occurred to me how much Ian would love the movie "Rudy".  This is easily in my top 5 all time favorites.  Ian loves football and what better, inspiring story of the "underdog" wanting to play football at Notre Dame, who has everything going against him.  I actually own this movie and couldn't wait to watch it along with him.  Unfortunately, I don't think Ian loved it as much as I thought he would.  He liked it, but didn't get moved to tears like I do at the ending, when the crowd starts cheering "Rudy! Rudy!  Rudy!" and Rudy finally gets his chance to play in the last 4 seconds of the last game of his Senior year.  Ah, what a movie. 

This weekend, we've got "Uncle Buck" at the ready.  I've found a great website, "Common Sense Media.org" that rates almost every movie out there and explains what the youngest age that should see it and what specifically gives it that age rating (violence, language, sex, etc).  I am not a stickler making sure that it has to be 7 years old or younger for the rating.  We are taking it case by case.  While Jeff can't wait to show Ian "Meatballs"  (Really?), I am eager to show Ian "Planes, Trains and Automobiles".  Both are not within shooting distance of being age appropriate yet.  I can still laugh out loud, without the movie even playing, just at the thought of the scene of Steve Martin and John Candy in the hotel room together.  "Where's your hand?"  "Between two pillows."  "THOSE AREN'T PILLOWS!!!!"   Ah, I can't wait until its ok for Ian to watch this gem.

Jeff and I have a list going of all the movies we can't wait to show Ian.  And, we get to do it all again once Sam gets a few years older.  What a great reason to stay in and make it movie night at Casa del Toppall.

This is who she is!

On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, between when Sam gets out of preschool and Ian's school day is over is a span of about 2 hours of time.  Sam and I have been known to go to Josie's with some preschool friends and get frozen yogurt from time to time.  This does not sit well with Ian, who LOVES going to Josie's just as much as the next person.  Inevitably, Sam lets it slip to Ian that we went to Josie's while he was at school.  As you can imagine, this causes a normally jovial Ian to become upset and bitter.

Time and time again, I tell Sam to not let Ian know where we went while he was at school.  And of course, somehow, it comes out to Ian.  One time, Sam made it a point to play with Josie's frequent visitor card while Ian was entering the car.  Another time, Sam said, "I am so full!" within Ian's earshot.  Each time, Ian quickly deduced where we went.

This last incidence of going to Josie's and not telling Ian took the cake.  As we are making our way through the kiss 'n ride line, I said to Sam "Remember, do not say anything to Ian about going to Josie's.  We don't want to upset him."   About 30 seconds later Ian gets in the car.  The first words out of Sam's mouth are, "What am I not supposed to tell Ian again?"   

And that was Sam's way of telling Ian without actually saying the words, "We went to Josie's."   :)



Shhh! Top Secret Frozen Yogurt Mission.

****************************************************************************

One morning before school, we are sitting at the kitchen table.  Sam is grunting loudly and making a face, visibly straining very hard.

Me: "Sam, are you ok?"

Sam: "I am trying to fart myself."


***************************************************************************