Livingston, I Presume

I need to dance

Chip and I were discussing the evolution of Connery's stall tactics today. When he doesn't want to do something--whether that's take a bath, go to bed, get into his carseat--he is developing an elaborate set of ways to SLLLLOOOOOOOOWWW down the process. Chip tells me that during his nighttime story ritual (which used to include me but no longer does due to Connery's preference for Daddy these days), he has started wanting to get down from the rocker, walk around the ottoman in the longest possible fashion, retrieve the book (which, because of the size of the room and the size of the queen guest bed therein is approximately 12 inches from the rocking adult's fingertips) and then retrace his steps back to finish the story. Last night he also demanded to see Mommy in the midst of everything.

But my favorite technique has to be the one he unveiled over the weekend, after grocery shopping. The parking lot was windy, cold, and fairly dark. I wanted to get into my heated seat as quickly as possible. Connery, not so much. He pushed play on one of his musical toys--which happens to be desperately in need of batteries and so sounded like the world's drunkest band trying to get through Baa Baa Black Sheep--and when I tried to pick him up, he said, "No, Mommy! I need to dance."

I can't argue with that.

Ewan McGregor, Scarlett Johansson, and Gordon Bennett

In earlier times, I guess I would have had to wash Connery's mouth out with soap for his latest linguistic forays, but living in the now gives me only one weapon with which to fight his parroting of my own blue slips: distraction.

For some time now, Chip and I have been trying to replace--admittedly without much success--our, shall we say, colorful stubbed-toe expletives with the names of celebrities. We got the idea from the British exclamation "Gordon Bennett!" which A Dictionary of Slang helpfully tells me was the name of a 19th century British-American playboy:

"The use of James Gordon-Bennett's name as an expletive possibly bears relation to his outrageous lifestyle and involvement in newsworthy stunts. Imagine opening your daily newspaper and reading yet another news item telling you of his latest antics, and as you begin to express incredulity with a "God Almighty", you restrain your publically unacceptable language and instead say..... GORDON-BENNETT!"

But for us, "Gordon Bennett!" just doesn't have the rhythm that we like. Our favorites are "Ewan McGregor!" and "Scarlett Johannson!". Which explains why my son has been running around Livingston today shouting, "Oh my Ewan!" Beats "Oh my fuck!" any day.

They're terrific! Really!

I have never been a fan of the term "terrible twos." It always seemed to me to be some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, an urban legend of age-specific horrors. Surely, I said to myself, such a mythical two-yeared beast could be avoided with mindful parenting and positive thinking! I've even referred to them as "terrific twos," a term that I think I first saw in a far too enthusiastic book about how to teach your toddler to read using only toilet paper rolls and twine.

Connery has been easing into the twos since 18 months, but it's only been in the last couple of weeks that I've begun to question the idea that positive attitude is going to be enough to get us through the terrib-I mean, terrific twos. I'm beginning to think that perhaps heavy drinking is the only answer.

This morning was a case study. After fighting him into his clothes (more hubris payback for me who secretly looks down on those who bring their toddlers to nursery in pajamas), we prepared the exact breakfast he asked for: Autumn Wheat cereal with raisins with a side of apricots. (Do you think he needs some fiber? Maybe this is all about constipation.) He then informed us that he didn't want to sit in his booster chair, because Mommy's booster-free chair is infinitely better. Foolishly, we acceded, only to have him climb up and down constantly, smearing cereal hither and yon. When we disallowed this conduct, he went babycrazyloco. The scene culminated in Connery sitting on my chair, sobbing, "But this chair is beautiful."

It is so hard to be firm and consistent parents when you want to bust a gut laughing.

And how was *your* Thanksgiving?

Fall into the foamy brine!

I remembered that I had promised to post the turkey recipe we were planning to use this year. We've been brining our birds for several years, but it's always good to try a new formula. So here it is, shamelessly stolen from the Mothers of Organic (that's MOO to you) site:

link

Brine Cured Roast Turkey with Maple Ginger Glaze

Prep Time: 4:30

Ingredients:

1 Organic Valley Whole Young Turkey
For the Brine:
2 1/2 gallons cold water
2 cups coarse salt (sea salt)
1 cup sugar
2 whole bay leaves
1 head fresh garlic (peeled and halved)
1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
1 teaspoon black pepper
For the Maple Ginger Glaze:
1/4 cup minced onion
2 tablespoons fresh ginger root (peeled and minced)
1 teaspoon fresh garlic (peeled and minced)
2 tablespoons Organic Valley Cultured Butter
1/2 cup Organic Valley Orange Juice - no pulp added
1/4 cup molasses
2 tablespoons ketchup
2 tablespoons maple syrup (Maple Valley)
1 tablespoon honey (local)
1 tablespoon orange zest (fresh)
salt and pepper (to taste)

Instructions:

For the brine: combine listed ingredients in a large soup pot. Cook over high heat until salt and sugar are dissolved. Cool brine liquid to room temperature.

Place your thawed farm fresh Organic Valley Turkey into a large vessel (I used an insulated cooler). Remove giblet bag and neck from turkey cavity.

Pour brine mixture over the thawed turkey and refrigerate for 24 hours. If there's not enough room in the fridge, use ice packs and an insulated cooler. You may have to use a weight (heavy plate) to keep the bird submerged in the brine.

After 24 hours: pour out the brine, rinse the bird and pat dry. Stuff the bird as you wish and apply Maple Ginger Glaze.

For the glaze: in a small heavy saucepan, over low-medium heat, saute garlic, onion, and ginger in butter for 4-6 minutes.

Add the remaining ingredients. Increase heat and allow to boil for 3 minutes, while stirring. Reduce heat and simmer for 12 minutes to thicken the sauce, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and strain off the minced garlic, onion, and ginger. Cool to room temperature. Cover and keep in the fridge until needed. Please note: glaze may be prepared up to 2 days ahead.

To roast turkey: preheat oven to 325 degrees. Place prepared bird in roasting pan breast side up. Baste with Maple Ginger Glaze and cover wings and top of the turkey breast with foil to prevent excess browning. Baste when curious!

Cook until internal temperature reaches 180 degrees in the thickest part of the thigh, or 170 in the breast. Plan for a 10-18 pound Organic Valley Turkey to roast for 3 hours to 4 1/4 hours or so. Please take internal temperatures with a meat thermometer prior to serving. Allow turkey to "rest" for 20-30 minutes before carving.

Daddy's boy

I had to see this coming, karmically.

When I was two or three, so the legend goes, I looked my mother straight in the eye and said, "When are you going to leave so Daddy and I can be alone?" The story has been told and retold with some good-natured Oedipal ribbing over the years, but always in the spirit of fun. What I know now, so vividly, is how un-fun it must have been for my mother at the time.

Connery is going through a real Daddy phase right now. He's the first person Connery asks for in the morning and the last person he wants to see at night. Yesterday, he didn't even want to get out of his crib after his nap because Daddy wasn't there to take him out. He routinely tells me to go away, though in his defense I will admit that he always says please. "Go away please, Mommy!"

I'm trying hard not to take this personally, but it's hard. It's even harder than getting over his first word lo those many months ago being "cat" rather than "mama". I mean, the cat won't even give him the time of day!

I hope the pendulum swings my way again soon.

When a good Google goes bad...

To the vast right-wing conspiracy keeping tabs on my Internet use: The results that one gets when searching for hygiene advice for bath toys is likely going to be skewed when one types "cleaning rubber dick" instead of "cleaning rubber duck."

I'm just saying.

Lovely service and other news

Connery and I traveled to Helena for Peg's memorial service yesterday, and it was beautiful...very fitting for such a beautiful woman. On Wednesday, Chip and I will leave Connery at pre-school and travel to Billings for that service. Amy and Becky are doing amazingly well, but I think any additional support would probably be welcome.

Even though it was under terrible circumstances, it was great to see Meliesa, Chrisy, and Alan, not to mention a bunch of Rosenleaf family members, including the only remaining Howard matriarch, Millie. She looks amazing at over 90 years old!

Again my mom and dad saved the day by corralling Connery so that I could support Amy. My dad in particular went beyond the call of duty, hanging out in the back of the chapel and taking him outside when he needed it. The service was held exactly in the midst of his normal naptime, so it was no picnic. He's still a little overtired today.

Mom, dad, and Alex arrive on Thursday morning for Thanksgiving. I'll post the turkey recipe we're planning to try a little later.

Margaret Ann “Peg” Bartlett, 1943-2005

With her daughters at her side, Margaret Ann “Peg” Bartlett, 62, slipped away peacefully Thursday morning at Son Heaven Assisted Living Center in Helena after a long struggle with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.

Memorial services will be held for Peg in Helena at the Retz Funeral Home (315 E. 6th St.) on Monday, November 21st, at 1:30 p.m. (reception to follow at Sander's B&B) and in Billings at Grace United Methodist Church (1935 Ave. B) on Wednesday, November 23rd, at 2:00 p.m.

Born in Billings on March 5, 1943, the middle child of Fred and Irene Bartlett, Peg attended school in Billings, graduating from Billings Senior High. While still a teen, she served as the statewide Grand Worthy Advisor for the International Order of the Rainbow for Girls. She went on to Montana State University in Bozeman to study nursing and received her degree in registered nursing in 1963.

It was also in 1963 that she married John Richard “Dick” Rosenleaf. The two later divorced, but the union produced beloved daughters Rebecca in 1968, and Amy in 1973. Peg’s “girls” were always the center of her life.

Peg worked as a registered nurse for many years in Deer Lodge while her daughters were in school, including a long period of service at the Montana State Prison. Although her warmth and gentle demeanor were well-suited to the nursing profession, she was eager for a new challenge and received her paralegal certification in Missoula after her daughters were grown. Upon earning her credentials, she moved to Helena and went to work for the State of Montana. She served there until her retirement for health reasons in 2003. She truly enjoyed her job and her co-workers, many of whom she considered to be close friends.

Peg is survived by her mother, V. Irene Bartlett of Billings; daughters, Rebecca Bey of Billings and Amy Marene Rosenleaf of Seattle, Wash.; sons-in-law Eric Bey and Donald James Ankney; sister Sue Bartlett and brother-in-law Gene Fenderson of Helena; brother Donn Bartlett of Billings; and numerous nieces and nephews as well as beloved friends and co-workers.

She was preceded in death by her father, Fred Bartlett, and her former parents-in-law, Roy and Martha Rosenleaf, whom she always considered to have been important people in her life.

It is almost impossible to convey Peg’s loving and caring nature. Those who were lucky enough to know her inevitably refer to her gentleness and her desire to give to others, but she was so much more than that. She was fierce in her protection of her daughters and the other people she loved, and she could find good in almost anyone. Beautiful inside and out, Peg was a lady in the best sense of the word. And a lady knows when it’s time to leave.

Peg’s family would like to extend heartfelt thanks to Linda Sandman and to the staff of Son Heaven Assisted Living Center and the staff of the Hospice of St. Peter’s, both of which helped immeasurably in making Peg’s final journey better for her and her family. In light of this—and in lieu of flowers—the family would like to ask that memorials be made to Son Heaven or to the Hospice of St. Peters.

She's gone

I missed her.

Connery and I headed to Helena yesterday morning, about a two-hour drive from Livingston on good roads. Snowy and icy to Bozeman, conditions improved when we turned off at Three Forks. Unfortunately, road construction slowed us up outside of Townsend. Who knew there could still be road construction in Montana in November? I was pretty impressed with the stamina of the crew. But by the time I got out of the construction line and made my way into Montana's capital (and found my way to the assisted living center), Aunt Peg had made her graceful exit. True to her nature, she sneaked away when her daughters were talking with others in the room. She never did like to be the center of attention.

My parents arrived shortly after Connery and I did, and Connery was predictably thrilled to see them. My parents have some kind of magical tantrum-prevention mojo, and he was a star all day. Having a child around when everything else is death makes a huge difference to one's state of mind, I think. I knew this on some level, but it was very clear when my parents and my cousins Kelly and Mark all tromped down to Helena's carousel after lunch to try to give Connery a good memory of the trip. Five adults, one 2-year-old, all watching the carousel go around, enthusiastically naming each carousel animal and waiting to see his look of happiness once he's on the ride. Perhaps predictably, he didn't want to ride it (Grandpa's shoulders are better than any carousel horse, even when the horse is a trout), but it was therapeutic for all of us just the same.

Amy and Becky have entrusted me with writing Peg's obituary. I am honored and humbled as I try to encapsulate her life in a few paragraphs. I'll post it when I'm happy with it. I'd like for it to be seen by as many people as possible.

Calls unexpected, welcome, and unwelcome

I heard from two people I wasn't expecting to today. One was good, the other not so great.

Chris is a friend of mine from kindergarten. Really. We've known each other literally since we were about four years old. His parents still live just up the block from mine in Great Falls. He's one of a handful of people that I went to school with from kindergarten through senior year and the only one I keep up with in any meaningful fashion. Chris also helped me survive grad school by virtue of having a toll-free work number where I could reach him from the pay phone in the library. Taxpayers of Montana, I apologize, for there were not many conversations on this line involving admission to Montana State University. Chris was nice enough to take my calls when I'm sure that I wasn't too much fun to talk with, given my general depressed graduate school state of mind. My mother, the other possessor of a toll-free line during this time in my life, does not recall it fondly. I can still picture the spot in the Cross Campus Library where I always made my calls to Chris. I would bargain with myself about reading a few more pages in my economics text or a few more exercises in my Czech homework and THEN I could call. Worked relatively well. He later paid me back for the at-work ramblings by calling my place of business and telling the receptionist things like he was my priest. Now, Chris is my friend with the most interesting job of all the people I know. He's a singing gondolier link at The Venetian in Las Vegas.

Anyway, Chris called out of the blue today and told me he's coming to Montana for the Cat-Griz game this weekend. We're hoping to be able to see each other for the first time in years, which would be great.

While I was gabbing with Chris, I got a voice mail from my cousin Amy, who is also my lifelong friend. Her mom, my Aunt Peg, has suffered from emphysema for a long time. Her health has been bad for quite some time, but she has quite quickly taken a turn for the worse. She is in hospice care in Helena, so Connery and I will be driving there tomorrow to meet my parents and try to lend support. Peg is one of the most gentle and loving people I've ever known, and my heart breaks for my cousins. It's far too early for any of us to be losing parents.