Family SNAP Hunger Challenge: Day 1

The Monsters' Lunches and Snacks - Day 1

This week, the kids and I will be participating in the Project Open Hand SNAP Hunger Challenge in order to bring awareness to the challenges faced by so many families just like ours all over the country who, for whatever reason, have found themselves in the situation where they must attempt to nourish themselves on the current government allotment of $4.56 a day.

Although we could never truly understand the circumstances and the full weight of living day to day in that situation in just seven days, this challenge is really meant to help stir discussion and shed some light on the fact that this is a reality for many -- and, as I explained to the monsters this morning, that may very well include some of their friends and they don't even know it.

Shockingly, this meager daily allotment for food stamps is actually decreasing in 2014. And this is something that, no matter your position on the politics of it, needs to be considered. These are our neighbors, our friends and family, our community, our countrymen.

Could you sustain yourself, your family, and attempt to also eat nutritiously, spending just $4.56 per person, per day?

That's $13.68 per day for my family of 3 -- breakfast, lunch, snacks, dinner, dessert, and all beverages.

So, this week, we have a total of $95.76 to spend, including condiments, oils, baking goods, and spices, which, when you add it up like that, actually sounds pretty reasonable. Until you think about what you spent the last time you went out for dinner. And all of our beautiful Thanksgiving leftovers have gone into hybernation in the freezer for a week. (But the fact that I can even complain about any that makes me immediately recoil with embarassment at our exorbitance.)

MONDAY'S MENU



Using the whites and saving
the yolks for another meal

  Breakfast for the Monsters: French Toast

- 4 slices wheat bread (white is cheaper, but 100% whole wheat is more nutritious for us)

- 2 scrambled egg whites (saved the yolks for dinner) and added a splash of milk

- small glass of OJ (frozen generic brand and watered down a little to last longer)

- sprinkle of cinnamon (ground from sticks, which are cheapest in the ethnic spices section, but also taste better)

- 1 tbsp margarine to cook the toast

- 1 tsp drizzled honey (cheaper than our usual agave nectar, but better for us than syrup)

- half a banana for me and, of course, water

Total cost of breakfast for 3: $1.63

Lunch for the Monsters: PBJ

- 4 slices wheat bread for 2 sandwiches (thinking I may need to try and bake a couple of loaves this week instead)

- 2 tbsp peanut butter (low sodium is a little more expensive, but needed)

- strawberry jelly -- thinned with a little water to make it stretch (low sugar is a little more expensive, but needed)

- sliced 1/4 of a banana to bulk up both PBJ sandwiches

- sliced 1/4 of an apple for each with a sprinkle of cinnamon

- 4 graham crackers each

- large refillable water bottle for each (we typically don't send juices, so this is a standard)

- remaining half of the apple and 4 graham crackers, and of course, water for me

Total cost of lunch for 3: $2.11

Snack for Kids (mid-morning and after school)

- 1 string cheese each (but he didn't want his, so she had both)

- 1 ziploc snack bag of chex cereal each (which they both finished)

- 1 bag of goldfish crackers for him once he got to his Mommy's after school

- 1 honey yogurt for her once she got to her Mommy's after school

- no snack for me (which was a HUGE mistake)

Total cost of all snacks: $2.99



Refried pinto bean chalupas



Dinner for All of Us: Chalupas

- refried pinto beans (pot of beans will make for a few meals this week)

- 6 corn tortillas (bag of 30 will help with multiple meals this week)

- 2 tbsp canola oil for frying the corn tortillas, and then reused to refry the beans (other oils are cheaper, but canola is better for us)

- 2 tsp freshly ground comino seed

- 4 fresh garlic cloves

- 1 tbsp chopped large yellow onion

- 1 tbsp chopped fresh cilantro

- shredded kale (more expensive than iceberg lettuce, lasts longer than spinach, more nutritious and multi-purpose, and also picked up at the farmer's market)

- shredded cheddar cheese (cheapest generic block I could find)

- 1 diced vine ripe tomato (cheapest at the farmer's market, but romas are cheapest at the grocery store)

- ended up not using the 2 yolks from breakfast, so I'll save those for tomorrow

Total cost of dinner for 3: $4.68

Dessert (because, please, they're 10 and they'll never let me get away with it otherwise)

- 2 small scoops each of least expensive generic brand of vanilla ice cream

Total cost of dessert: $0.28

Flinstones Vitamins (1 each): $0.20

GRAND TOTAL: $11.89

NOTE: Our budget is only $13.68. That only gives me a savings of $1.79, which wasn't really a savings at all considering I didn't eat more than a half a banana for breakfast and a half an apple for lunch. Will need to make adjustments accordingly or Mama may hit road rage status by Tuesday afternoon...

TODAY'S OBSERVATIONS

- Found I was actually hungry first thing in the morning even though I never usually am, and am wondering if it's just because I'm suddenly hyper food conscious

- Found that I took smaller bites of my food and chewed slowly to try to make it last longer

- Realized the morning rush to prep for work and school makes it that much harder to pack smart lunches for all of us. Planning is really critical.

- Realized school snacks are actually going to be the hardest part for us; partly because the monsters are so picky and partly because it's harder to be creative with something that needs to be super quick, portable, and a dash of fast energy

- Recognize that much of what I did today and have tentatively planned for the rest of the week assumes that I have a working stove, oven, refrigerator, and freezer at my disposal. This revelation was a bit of a jolt.

- Found myself looking at the clock more often. When could I have another graham cracker? How long before I could eat my apple?

- Recognized around 1pm that I did a terrible job planning my own meals because I was so concerned about ensuring the kids got the lion's share of the $13.68. Hoping to plan a little better for tomorrow.

- Acknowledge that totalling up a cost per serving is not really necessarily the same thing as having to go out and spend per meal unless you're truly able to purchase, prepare, and store the majority of your items for re-use.

- Thinking that a glass of wine would be really, really great right about now...

To hear from the monsters' mouths exactly what they thought about their Day 1 experience, click HERE.

For more details, to join the challenge, or to follow other participants' posts, please visit Project Open Hand SNAP Hunger Challenge.

Weapons of Mass Destruction

Leave your sister alone. 

Don't poke at your sister. 

Don't prod your sister. 

Don't hit your sister. 

Don't harass your sister. 

Don't chase your sister. 

Don't attack your sister. 

Don't antagonize your sister. 

Don't...

Oh, just give me all your weapons...

Crushin'...

"Hey, Mama?"

Yeah, baby?

"How old were you when you had your first crush?"

[gulp] Oh...right about your age, I think. [lie!]

"So...did you kiss? Like a real kiss?"

[gulp...swallow]. Umm...no, I don't think so, not til much later... [lie!]

"Well...if your crush was moving away soon...what would you do, you think?"

[stop breathing] Oh, hmmm, I think...ummm... I would definitely...no, absolutely...without question...write a letter... [liar! liar! pants on fire!!!!]

THE GUY WHO JUMPED FROM SPACE

"What was his name, Mom?"

Sideways look shot from my place over the sizzling French toast...

"Oh," he says, "the guy, you know? That guy who jumped from space?" gesturing skyward wildly with his hand like the good mini-me he is.

My eyes dart towards the upper lefthand corner of my sockets, clearly indicating I am stretching my 43-yr-old brain to try and uncover that little tidbit of info I used to be able to recall at the drop of a hat for a good Friday night trivia game, even after a couple of glasses of wine, but now can only seem to use tp form the best possible SEO sentence to plug into the googler.

"guy who jumped from space"

The results of which then sent me unexpectedly into tears for the next 10 minutes as I read him the whole story about how an 84-yr-old retired Air Force Colonel, Joe Kittinger, was essentially Felix Baumgartner's mission control and Jiminy Cricket, talking him thru some seriously intense moments on the way up as well as down, including an outer stratosphere out-of-control spin that nearly killed the very same Colonel a half century before.

And by the time I read about how the Austrian daredevil stood at the edge of his capsule, saluted, and marveled at feeling so very small standing there looking out over the entire world, I was literally heaving.

He plummeted at over 833 mph, released his parachute 1000 miles above New Mexico, and landed on his own two feet.

The data his crew of scientists and engineers were able to compile will be used for years to come, and only open up wider the inevitability of tourist space travel. And THAT idea just makes every hair on my body stand on end. Can you imagine? It would be like standing next to the first successful open-heart surgery. To be able to experience that, to feel that sense of hugeness and smallness at the same time, to actually be taking steps forward and beyond and into the infinite...

I was just a big bawling mess at the breakfast table this morning.

So...I'm either pregnant, which isn't really gonna happen without my research, order form, and signature of the FedEx delivery of the nitro tank, or I'm just pms'ing...

THE FRANTIC LAST MINUTE DIY SCHOOL BASKET PROJECT

"Oh, mom," she says during dinner last night, "I have to turn in my homemade basket tomorrow." Chomp, chomp, crunch.

"What basket, baby?"

And so begins the frantic scramble for any and all remotely applicable household materials to hurriedly create the best. basket. ever. in about...oh...30 minutes. Ugh!!!!

After floating a good six really pretty awesome ideas off the top of my head, she finally settled on this one and set to work.

Materials:
1 bottom half of a large Christmas sweater box
1 empty wrapping paper roll
3 different rolls of crazy designed duct tape
Newspaper cut into strips for filling
And multi-colored yarn cut into 5" strings for fringe

And the result, I have to say, was pretty darn fabulous!! Yay for last minute adrenaline rushes! :)

THE AGE-OLD DEBATE: CARESS VS HARASS

Overheard from the monsters' bathroom this morning:

[singing in unison, out of tune, and at the top of their lungs]

"MAY THE BIRD OF PARADISE FLY UP YOUR NOSE (UP YOUR NOSE) / MAY AN ELEPHANT CARmumbleHARmumbleASS YOU WITH HIS TOES..."

"Wait," he says, "did you say 'harass'?"

"Yes," she says, "why, what did you say?"

"It's 'caress,' not 'harass'!" he laughs.

"What's the difference?" she asks (as I shudder from my core).

"Well," he explains, "caressing is gentle, like this, and harassing is like bullying and mean. He's caressing you with his toes..."

"Ewww!!" she exclaims, "I'm pretty sure I'd feel harassed."

IT'S THE 4TH GRADE BEE!!

"I don't think I wanna try out for the Spelling Bee this year," she said.

"Oh no? Why not?" I ask her.

"I just don't like being up there in front of everyone," she replies, which, in Saia language, means I'm not gonna set myself up for disappointment by showing how much I want to be selected, so I'll just feign disinterest instead.

But she couldn't really suppress her excitement when she was chosen to be an alternate and then went to bed last night secretly wishing the girl with the fever wouldn't show up for the competition this morning.

But she did. And Saia did a great job of being a good sport and supporting her classmates and, a little less enthusiastically, her brother.

The boy, on the other hand, makes no bones about his love of words and has been itching and raring to go for weeks. Despite his prep work, he sat unusually still on stage and looked uncharacteristically nervous. When he passed his 1st round with "honest," he let out a visible sigh of relief. Then came "huddled," which is not a difficult word, but it's hardly ever a big word that takes you down in the Bee, you know. It's a forgotten d or a missed double letter or a transposed l and e, but he took his time, and paced himself, and knocked it outta the park.

And it was on to round 3!

There are only 14 children left, and it's at this point that you find yourself, in spite of yourself, wishing not-so-well on the remaining pack of 9- and 10-year-olds. Just a little slip here. Just a little too fast there. Just a minor flub anywhere...

COME ON, ALREADY!!!!

And then he got "transatlantic." And I'm pretty certain I stopped breathing.

But he aced it, and is now TOP 8 OF THE 4th GRADE CLASS and moves on to the school-wide finals!!!!!!!! And, based solely on the number of exclamation points I've already used in this post today, I may just need to take a mild little sedative before that one.

WHAT'S REALLY IN YOUR FALL-OUT SHELTER?

So, the world didn’t end today.  Maybe you heard.

But maybe the lesson here is actually that we should spend more time acting as though it were still going to.  Maybe our take-away is to live our lives as though our days are actually numbered.  Because they are, of course.  And for some of us, even single-digit kinda numbers.

So, what would you do, WILL you do, now given the opportunity?  Who would you reach out to?  How many people would you contact to make amends for things?  To heal old wounds?  To tie up loose strings?  To. Leave. No. Regrets.

How much tighter would you hold your loved ones tonight?  How many more “I-love-yous” would you whisper? How many “I-hate-yous” would you retract?

How many hours would you shave off your work day just to have dinner at the table tonight instead of on the couch?  How many battles with friends, siblings, coworkers, your children…would you concede just so that you can laugh one more time at a laffy taffy joke instead of yelling?

How many random strangers would you open doors for, give spare change to, take into your home, provide a warm meal, offer a smile, speak to as though they were actually human beings with lives and memories and histories written on their innermost inside walls that no one may ever know?

How many animals would you free from zoos, testing facilities, shelters, abusive homes?

How many foster children would you take in?  How many elderly would you offer to read to, sing to, brush their hair?

How many meetings would you miss just to see the last sunrise or sunset?  And how many colds would you risk to be able to run through the rain, fall down in the snow, sleep under the stars, or swim in the ocean…just…one…more…time?

How many ripples would you leave behind?

It’s not necessarily a bad thing that quite a huge chunk of us went to bed last night with just the teensiest bit of wonder about the fate of the world today.  But it’s even better if we wake up tomorrow with that same wonder.  And the day after that.  And the day after that.

So, maybe tonight…take stock of what’s really in your fall-out shelter.  It’s not all canned goods and Twinkies.   With apologies to Prince and gratitude to Tim McGraw, to survive the apocalypse of humankind, you gotta live like you were dying, not like it’s 1999.

LAST-MINUTE TOY BUYING GUIDE: BOYS vs GIRLS

Just a friendly reminder from Saia and Chago...

A BUG'S LIFE: ELECTION 2012

…or "How women, Latinos, and the LGBT community rallied together to topple a formidable economic agenda in favor of establishing a new social order and issuing a mandate to the country that while we, too, are concerned about our jobs, our bank accounts, and our retirement, we refuse to be the kind of country that sacrifices our humanity in order to drive a Lexus."

And I do say all of this knowing that these are first-world problems we’re talking about. Without refute, there are innumerable other countries in more dire straits than ours. But everyone’s line in the sand is relative. And we drew ours last night.

It made me most proud, as a Latina, as a woman, and as a lesbian mother of two to be able to look my 9-year-old twins in their eyes this morning and tell them that this time, this time… the bullies did not win. This time, the ants banded together and overthrew the grasshoppers – and not because we truly believe we are in a better state economically than we might be with another leader, but because with that other leader we would have so assuredly suffered as a people, as a community, as a country, under the weight of what would mostly have been, and genuinely felt like, a racist, bigoted, mysoginistic, elitist decision.

And no, that is not to say that all Republicans are racists. Or bigots. Or misogynists. Or elitists. But the social impact of a Romney administration would unequivocally have crushed the dream that is our actual America. The dream of immigrants. The dream of minorities. The dream of the persecuted. The dream of the downtrodden. Those are the bootstraps from which we began. Those are. Those.

And we have to remain true to them. Because if we don’t…

If we don’t continue to fight to recognize that all of our minorities, all of our disenfranchised, and all of our marginalized people ARE equal, deserve equal rights, and STILL HAVE AN EQUAL VOTE, then we risk losing who we are at our core. Who we truly claim to be as Americans.

And yes, of course I realize how important it is that we have balance. Why having a Republican House but a Democratic President is actually a good thing. Why term limits on our top political seats are crucial to the reinventing of ourselves as a people, reinvigorating our public, redefining our collective goals, and restating our deal-breakers. And I have accepted, and will continue to accept, whenever a political leader wins with whom I fundamentally disagree because that is what makes our country better. But it’s equally important to note that I didn’t vote for Barack Obama yesterday. I voted for a better America. I voted for an ideal. I voted for the dream.

And this morning, I woke up feeling strong…and heard…and visible.

This morning, I didn’t have to swallow my pride anymore.

I didn’t have to apologize to my children for the people who mistreat them, us, others because we don’t look exactly like they think we should look or act or feel or believe. Because last night, America did what was right for our country as human beings. Last night, America played fair. Last night, America chose decency over pocketbooks. And now the foundation for real forward progress has been laid.

And while there will always and forever be slips and backward steps here and there, the miles we crossed last night and the streams that were forged mean that my children learned a lesson every parent hopes to be able to impart.  They learned about optimism. Not hope. Not change. I don’t buy the rhetoric any more than you do. Because they’re fleeting. Because they’re taglines. But optimism is mindshift.  It's a way of life. Optimism is not just about overcoming adversity. Optimism is not just about doing what’s right no matter what and believing that it’ll all work out in the end. Optimism is about knowing...in your bones...that your one little voice can change the world.

And the world. let me remind you, doesn’t look to America, envy America, respect America, and want to emulate America because we make more money than they do.

The world looks to us because here…an ant can overcome a grasshopper.

OUR "PUN"kin CONTEST ENTRIES THIS YEAR



Saia's Content Entry:
"PEOPLE PIE: The Pumpkin's Revenge"



So, it started off last week with...

"I think I wanna carve out the Death Star," he says. 

I googled it.  Printed out the instructions.  And we...and by that, I mean me...immediately ditched that idea, as just the thought of it made my carpal tunnel flare up.

"I think I really wanna do something spooky scary," she says, "like a haunted house...with vampires...and cats...and blood...and..."

But I still have FOUR...OTHER...PUMPKINS to carve for our own front yard, I'm trying to explain to them. Please have mercy on Mama.

Let's simplify, I prompt.  Sometimes the simplest things carry the strongest message.  And then that somehow triggered...

"Oh!" she yells, "How about we do Barrack Obama and Mitt Romney???"

"I'd rather do Obi Wan and Darth Vadar," he says.

What's the difference, Mama mumbles under her breath.

"Still too complicated," I beg.  "It would require stenciling, and shading, and tools I just don't have in neither my physical nor artistic arsenals."

And then, somehow, during the busiest week I've ever had, the heavens opened up and my brilliant children came up with ideas that they could actually create all on their own. 

And they...were...awesome!

Saia and I baked a little pie crust and put a couple of her dollhouse people inside the baked pie for her Pumpkin's Revenge: The People Pie.

And Chago, of course, decided to play with words...



Chago's Entry: "How does a pumpkin relax before Halloween?"



With "AcuPUMPture," of course!

A BOY AND A BIDET

"So, how was the party, bubba?" I ask him, as his sister and I walk him home under the full moon.

"Oh, it was great..." he begins, and then launches into a laundry list of oh-so-wonderful things he experienced, as his sister kicks rocks down the hill, seething with jealously.

You see, although they abhor attending parties to which they have BOTH been invited, they appear to be in complete agreement on the fact that the other can NEVER have a better time than they had without them whenever they're invited to separate parties.

So, as he describes the "waaay cool climbing tree," she tells him about the pumpkin spice sundae with caramel sauce she had at the ice creamery while he was gone. And as he shares his new fascination with Star Trek movies and proceeds to explain how each of his buddies clearly takes on each individual personality of the cast in the first movie (not the TV series), she makes sure to one-up him with details of our bike ride to the park to play soccer in the moonlight.

And for every cupcake, hamburger, party game, and goodie bag he puts forth, she's got an equally awesome story about walking Reynita, listening to the frogs at the park, and watching her bike reflectors light up with passing vehicle headlights.

And by 3/4 of the way home, my head is about to explode from the twin terror tête-à-tête...until...he gets to the toilet.

"So, the best part of the night," he says with his trademark smirk, "was their toilet."

"Their what?" I ask, as we round the corner past the house with the magnolia trees so fragrant I feel instantaneously transported back to the Garden District in New Orleans.

"The potty, Mom," he says, clearly translating now for the lesser species and snapping me out of my déjà vu.

"Yes, I understand, son, but what was so great about it?" -- fully aware that I just willingly and wontonly opened the door to a potential flood of boy birthday party bathroom humor...

"Well," he began, cocking his head slightly as he turned towards Saia, "it had all these buttons."

"Buttons?" she asks timidly, also well aware of his penchant for punning...

"Like a command center," he says.

"What were they for," she sidles up next to him.

"Oh, different things," he says, attempting nonchalance, but blatantly laying the bait.

"Did you push 'em?" she bites, so fully engaged now that they can barely put one foot in front of the other.

"Mmm-hmm," he says, smiling.

"Annnnnd?!" she gesticulates wildly.

"It squirted water," he says.

"Eww!!" she gasps. "It squirted water at you?! From the potty?!?!"

Quickly realizing he's about to lose her fascination to disgust, he stops walking to better explain with accompanying hand gestures.

"No, no," he says, "it's CLEAN water, like when you flush. It shoots up this little stream of water to your...(he glances over at me)...butoire (a made up Frenchified word we used when they were little to refer to their bottoms)."

She looks over at me immediately, knowing they were treading into territory verboten. Intent on hearing the end of this story myself -- without influencing the outcome, if possible -- I just nodded my silent assent for them to continue.

She turns back to him, as they begin walking slowing down the last hill, and he continues, "It's a soft spray. It doesn't go inside or anything," which, apparently, was a huge concern for her because it immediately put her at ease.

"Oh, so, what do the other buttons do?" she asks.

"Well, they pretty much all do the same kinda thing...just at...um...different places...and...um...different heights..."

"But what's it FOR?" she finally asks.

And I begin my very short explanation by alluding to that ridiculous toilet paper commercial with the family of bears with pieces of TP all stuck to their bottoms...

"So, anyway... how long were you in the bathroom, bubba?" I break in.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, "but Beckman had to come find me."

"Did you ask Max anything about the toilet? Did you even tell him you liked it?"

"Oh, no," he said, aggressively shaking
his head. "Not one person said anything about it all, but..."

"What?" she prods.

"Well, they all had this weird look on their face when they came out of there the first time."

"So...you know, son," I interject, "those toilets are actually called bidets. They're European..."

And the pun. Did not. Elude him.

Thoughts at 9:11 on 9/11

It was still dark out when my brother called me. My alarm hadn't even gone off yet. Nothing good ever comes from those calls.

He was in Texas. I was in Seattle. "Turn on your TV," he said. And we just sat there...for a good hour...just watching. Together.

I hate how the events of that day have redefined our personal and our nation's sense of security and freedom forever. I ache for the needless loss of life, for those that still suffer, and for those that will also mourn the other 364 days of every single year for those they've lost.

But there is something inexplicably magnificent for me about the fact that this day and that moment will always link my brother and me.

I Don't Drrrink Rrrrootbeer Often...

But when I do, I make sure it's IBC.