Something in my fridge stinks and I don’t know what it is.

No lie–I have a super power.  I can smell things before other people can smell them.  I think I am part hound.  Or I was a hound in a previous life.  I can walk into my kitchen and smell that there is something amiss.  “What is that smell?”, I ask my family, my face contorted in disgust.  They all shrug and bite into their waffles, and my husband rolls his eyes, because I probably say “What is that smell?” or “Something stinks in here” at least 4 times a day, and everybody’s tired of it.  But then–THEN–2 weeks later we will be cooking spaghetti sauce and I will ask that same husband to reach into the pantry and grab me an onion, and he will emerge with a full-on rotting onion, all soft and dripping rotten onion juice, and I will say:  “HA!  I TOLD YOU SOMETHING WAS STINKY IN HERE!”

I have not figured out how to use my super powers for anything other than driving my family crazy and occasionally sniffing out rotten food 2 weeks before it is actually rotten.  It’s really a burden more than a gift.  It’s not like I’m one of those dogs who can smell when someone has cancer or something cool like that.  It’s more like I will be laying in my bed at night and feel completely distracted and unable to sleep because I can smell that something in the kitchen downstairs is decidedly not right but I couldn’t find it on my pre-bedtime stink search so now I’m just laying in bed smelling it and wondering what it is and trying to ignore it so I can go to sleep but I CAN’T GO TO SLEEP BECAUSE I CAN SMELL IT, so then I have to put Vick’s Vapo-Rub under my nose so I can finally go to sleep.

Anyhow, this fridge business is different than the onion business, because everyone can smell it, not just me.  That’s how you know it’s bad.  I have been through that fridge at least a half-dozen times in the past 3 days, sniffing and wiping and scrutinizing its contents.  Yesterday I roasted up 3 heads of broccoli, just to get it out of the fridge.  It was still fresh, but you know how sometimes those cruciferous vegetables can emit that certain odor?  I had to get the broccoli out of the mix, just to narrow things down.

The only thing left that might be questionable is the kale.

I mean, it looks fine.  It’s in a bag, and it’s not slimy or anything.  But it’s kale.  It’s easy to blame things on kale, I think.  I started eating kale as I was approaching 40 because it’s good for you, and it’s a superfood and all.  I have this complicated relationship with kale because I don’t love it, but if it’s prepped right I don’t hate it either.  It’s growing on me.  And after I eat it I just feel like the biggest superstar, because I just ate a superfood.  So I’m trying to eat more of it, and I try to sneak it into recipes, much to my children’s chagrin.  So this morning after opening the fridge, the husband said, “Just throw out the kale!”  But I feel guilty.  I should eat the kale, because it’s good for me and all the health experts say it prevents cancer and is a good source of antioxidants.  But realistically, how much kale can I eat in one sitting?  Also, what if I throw away the kale and then the fridge still stinks?  You see my dilemma.

And then this morning the husband was in the crisper and found a little nubbin of an English cucumber that was all soft and macerated and sitting in its own cucumber juice there in the corner of the drawer, cleverly hiding under the tomatoes.  Could this nubbin have been the source of our fridge odor?  I have to tell you, it was nasty and drippy, but I sniffed it with my super-smeller and it really was not emitting any smell at all, which is impressive if you think about it.  The bag of kale doesn’t smell either, but I think all of these vegetables are LYING TO ME.  I just gave a whole bunch of celery the boot last night because it was looking a little brown around the edges of the leaves.  I HAVE NO PATIENCE FOR BROWN CELERY LEAVES.

I guess I could spend a little time today making up a fresh batch of kale chips with all of the kale that I feel guilty throwing away.  Except for one small problem:  Kale chips sound disgusting.  I have saved many a recipe to my Pinterest boards for kale chips, but I have not yet been able to bring myself to actually make them.  Chips are made of potatoes or corn.  End of story.  Bake them, fry them, cook them in a kettle, whatever.  They are one of life’s simple pleasures.  They are perfection.  To try to imitate this perfection with a cruciferous vegetable just seems wrong.  I can’t do it.  And you know that I would be the only one eating them.  No way that I could convince my two kids to eat chips made of kale.  And then if they were gross I would feel guilty throwing them away.  Because of the antioxidants.  You can’t just throw antioxidants into the garbage next to brown celery leaves and macerated cucumber nubbins.

So here’s what’s on the menu today:

Breakfast:  Smoothies made with bananas, berries, and kale
Snack:  Massaged kale, drizzled with a citrus dressing and tossed with walnuts and dried cranberries
Lunch:  Quinoa and mixed vegetable salad (featuring:  kale)
Dinner:  Teriyaki vegetables with rice noodles, edamame, and a side of sautéed kale.
Snack:  My tears
Midnight snack:  An entire bag of tortilla chips, with a side of Lay’s Classic.


A Midsummer Maternal Airing of Grievances

It’s getting kinda crazy up in here, people.  My children have been out of school for exactly a month now.  We have about 6.5 weeks left to go.  Holy crap, I just looked that up to be sure.  That’s longer than I thought!

I’m trying to enjoy summer with the kids, really I am.  We made our summer “bucket list” in June, and everyone contributed all of their very excellent and creative and expensive ideas about how we, as a family, can squeeze every ounce of fun out of our short Upstate New York summer.  Never mind the fact that in order to execute all of these fun things on the bucket list, both the hubby and I would need to get second jobs to have the money to pay for all the amusement park fees and movie tickets and road trip expenses, and then NOT ACTUALLY SHOW UP TO WORK AT ALL for 4 straight weeks so that we have the time to have all the fun.  Who’s stupid idea was a summer bucket list anyway?  My kids learned about this from school.  They actually came home with a drawing of a bucket that they had colored and cut out, and there was lined paper on the front to write out all the ways that they hoped that their parents would disappoint them over the summer.

Let me give you an example to illustrate how well our family activities are going so far this summer.  This is an actual conversation that occurred in the car today:

Kid:  You know what we should do?  We should go play glow golf!  It’s so fun!  I played it at a birthday party last year!

Other kid:  Yeah!  Glow golf!

Me:  Glow golf?  That sound fu–

Husband (interrupts):  Are you kidding me?  You guys are the WORST to play golf with!  Every time we go golfing you fight over who’s going to go first, and cry if your ball goes in the water, and someone has a meltdown before we even get to the second hole.  NO WAY am I golfing with you guys.


So, yeah.

When it comes to parenting and family life, I usually look for the path of least resistance.  Typically, I’m all about keeping things simple, planning in down-time, and not over-scheduling our lives.  Everything with parenting has been feeling really hard and sticky and overly busy and difficult since summer started, and I haven’t been able to get a grip on why that is. Where are you, path of least resistance?  And that’s when it occurred to me.  THERE IS NO PATH.  There may be a path from September through May, but in the summer, the path is hidden under piles of Goldfish crackers (also lovingly referred to as lunch), popsicle wrappers, summer camp schedules, wet bathing suits, and a huge pile of laundry that multiplies exponentially every hour because everyone changes their clothes four times a day.

Let’s talk about the fighting.  Good Lord, please make it stop.  I know my mother is laughing right now and you can just stop it, mom.

And bedtime. Disastrous.  Every night.  I never told them they were exempt from bedtime in the summer.  But they seem to think that bedtime should be optional when school is not in session, so every night is like trying to herd wandering cats.  Listen kids, if you want me to like you in the morning, you need to be in bed by 9 pm.  End of story. Feel free to go at 8:30 pm for bonus points.

Don’t get me started on the mess.  No one can “remember” to hang up their wet towel, or put their dishes in the dishwasher, or put things away.    I told the kids I felt like a broken record, and they were all like, “What’s a record?”

I don’t mean to be melodramatic, but some days it feels a little bit like a house arrest situation.  My guards are short, demanding, prone to mood swings, and hungry all the time.  They do not allow me to have showers or bathroom breaks without supervision.  They follow me everywhere. They interrogate me multiple times per day, often until I am close to tears.  Their main tactics to break my spirit are constant interruptions, talking to me before my morning caffeine load, and repeating my name over and over.  Sometimes I am allowed out of the house to drive them places or to gather additional rations.  Sometimes they bring their friends over to help them make large amounts of noise.

In addition to driving everyone to and fro, the extra laundry, refereeing the fights, getting harassed poolside, and reading the same sentence in my book over and over (see constant interruptions in the previous paragraph!), I also have to make time to prevent summer slide.  I usually don’t even think about summer slide until it is the end of the day, and then it’s too late!  They have already slid.  They are sliding, a little each day, and it’s all my fault.  Today I broke our screen time rule and let them play video games for 2 hours straight because I just needed some peace and quiet and yes, it was glorious for me.

Moms and dads, fess up.  Tell me what your summer looks like.  Not your Instagram version, but the real stuff.  The messy stuff.  We need to talk about it.  I can’t be the only one.

Processing:  Little by little

During our last few days in Haiti my roommate said that she felt like she was in some kind of suspended state, like when you’re waiting for a webpage to load and just watching that annoying circle go around and around.  There’s never much time to think or process while we are there and actually in it.  But we know that the emotions, the changes in our perspective, the shades of grey that start to cover over what was once black and white are all there, just waiting to download.  I have been home for about a week now, and the download is still trickling in, little by little, in between the busyness of family life.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get to sit in a decompression chamber for 24 hours after my trip, which would have been really helpful.  I was just thrown right back into life and work and parenting and all that craziness.

This daily meditation popped into my inbox the other day from Richard Rohr, who is a Franciscan monk and one of my favorite teachers right now.  It seemed fitting for me, pondering the issues of social justice within the larger framework of my faith:

Francis of Assisi taught us the importance of living close to the poor, the marginalized, the outcasts in society. The outer poverty, injustice, and absurdity around us mirror our own inner poverty, injustice, and absurdity. The poor man or woman outside is an invitation to the poor man or woman inside. As you nurture compassion and sympathy for the brokenness of things, encounter the visible icon of the painful mystery in “the little ones,” build bridges between the inner and outer, learn to move between action and contemplation, then you’ll find compassion and sympathy for the brokenness within yourself.

Each time I was recovering from cancer, I had to sit with my own broken absurdity as I’ve done with others at the jail or hospital or sick bed. The suffering person’s poverty is visible and extraverted; mine is invisible and interior, but just as real. I think that’s why Jesus said we have to recognize Christ in the least of our brothers and sisters. It was for our redemption, our liberation, our healing—not just to “help” others and put a check on our spiritual resume.

I can’t hate the person on welfare when I realize I’m on God’s welfare. It all becomes one truth; the inner and the outer reflect one another. As compassion and sympathy flow out of us to any marginalized person for whatever reason, wounds are bandaged—both theirs and ours.

Adapted from Richard Rohr, Near Occasions of Grace (Orbis Books: 1993), 108-110.

In Haiti, it’s not hard to find brokenness.  There is greed, there is violence, there is darkness, there is homelessness, hunger, sickness, and pain.  Not so different from my own country.  As privileged as we are, we don’t get to escape the human condition.  It is a different flavor, but it is the same brew.  As Mama T said, “Calcutta is everywhere, if only we have eyes to see”.

I don’t pretend to understand all of the social, economic, and cultural nuances at play in Haiti.  I have so much to learn.  But mostly I am learning more about my own self.  Every time I see something that looks broken, regardless of whether I stand in the dusty streets of Port-au-Prince or on my own green lawn which is slowly being overtaken by crabgrass, I am learning to look inward first–to hold up the mirror.  I’m not good at it yet.  I would rather turn the mirror the other way and spout my opinion about what others (be it government, society, institutions, or individuals) need to change, than to stare hard at what is looking at me right in the face.

The processing is going to take a while.  It’s almost too much to do all at once, like staring directly into the sun.  I take one piece out at a time and turn it over a few times, carry it around in my pocket, then look at it again later.  Each time I see something new.  Or something really old, but in a new way.

Photo credit: Amanda Ellison

I haven’t been able to answer very well when people ask me, “how was your trip?”.  It was a lot of things, but it’s not easy to sum up in a few neat sentences.  I’m just going to carry it around in my pocket for a bit longer and let it all percolate, little by little.

7/6/17: Here, there and everywhere for our last full day

Today was our last full day in country before we set out on our journey home.  Our medical clinic is done for this trip and was an excellent learning experience for all of us, and seemed to be well-received by the communities we were serving.  Our team members from Alabama consisted of 2 nurse practitioners, one RN, several firefighters with EMT and disaster response experience, a nursing student, and many non-medical people who helped support the medical clinic in various ways throughout the week.  Our ladies team was mentioned in my post yesterday.


Team members from Calvary Baptist Church in Alabama

Given the size of this group, we split up today and went in different directions.  I went with the ladies team, and we travelled all around with the primary goal of visiting some very special children.  Some of the ladies on our team have sponsored children in the area, and one of the most exciting things on this trip for them was to go and see those children!

We headed out first to Corail, which is one of the largest post-earthquake communities outside of Port-au-Prince.  The roads heading into Corail are much more passable by motorcycle than they are by the Post-Apocalyptic School Bus, so the ride was terrifying interesting.  One of our IMF employees calls Corail home, and he told us that when it rains, the roads flood and he has to get off his moto, roll up his pants, and take off his shoes to walk home through the flooded streets.

We met the little girl and her mother at the school she attends.  The school coordinator was so welcoming to our group and spoke excellent English.  We were told she previously worked at the palace as an officer.  She works with 5 dedicated teachers, and together they educate 80 children from preschool up to 2nd grade.  Here is a picture of one of the classrooms:


Classroom in Corail

One of the very fun things we have been able to do (yesterday and today) is to go and visit some places that are committed to empowering the Haitian people through education, job training, and job creation.

Let me introduce you to Jolina.  Doesn’t her smile make you want to smile?


Jolina, director of sales at Deux Mains designs

Jolina is the director of sales at Deux Mains Designs, which is the for-profit enterprise of REBUILD globally, a non-profit organization in Haiti that exists to break the cycle of poverty by offering job training, education, and dignified living wages for its workers.  It was founded shortly after the earthquake of 2010.  Jolina was their first employee!  She spoke to us while we were there about what it has meant to her to have a job that not only allows her to provide for her family, but has also allowed her to buy property and start her own business on the side.  She is a phenomenal, strong woman.

All of the items at Deux Mains are completely drool-worthy.  They use recycled tires to make the most beautiful shoes, sandals and bags.  All of the materials–from the tires to the glue to the thread–are sourced in Haiti, and the workers are paid a fair living wage with opportunities for education and promotion to help lift them out of the cycle of poverty.  REBUILD also works with refugees at the Haiti-Dominican border offering job training and income opportunities.  You can shop online for their products if you like them.  They have a warehouse that ships out of Miami, but rest assured that all of their items are ethically and lovingly handmade in Haiti.  I can attest that their flip-flops are both super comfortable and beautiful, and since I bought them on my trip last year they have become one of my favorite summer wardrobe staples.  They run true to size.  Our group of women collectively spent about $1000 at Deux Mains, and Jolina started dancing!  She told us that the money we spent would pay for approximately 3 weeks of salaries for their employees!

We also had the opportunity to visit Papillon, another socially conscious business created to stimulate the Haitian economy by providing job training, employment and support for Haitians.



From left:  Sarah, Amanda, Jane, me, Debbie, Marth, Makayla, Denise, Heidi, Riley, and Janet

One of their goals in doing this is to specifically provide employment and educational opportunities for Haitian parents so that they can support their children and not have to abandon them to orphanages because of extreme poverty. I did not get to visit Papillon on my last trip, and I loved it!  They have beautiful, hand-crafted jewelry, t-shirts, bags, home decor, pottery, and much more, all made on-site.  We were given a tour, and we got to see where all the magic happened.


Pottery room


They make beautiful necklaces and bracelets form beads that are crafted from strips of cereal boxes, then rolled and varnished.


Someone please tell my husband he can’t get mad at me for shopping.  I supported the Haitian economy a lot while I was here.  I was just doing my part to make the world a better place!

Our final stop today was back to the village of Chambon to visit another one of our ladies’ sponsored children.  He was waiting for us on the side of the road with his mom, where we make the turn off the main highway onto the rocky road leading to the village.  He sprinted to the bus and excitedly ran toward us, waving and smiling, as Martha launched herself down the stairs of the PASB to embrace him.  It was so precious to get to witness this interaction.  This is the second time Martha has been able to come visit him and his mom.  They climbed in the bus and we drove down the the river, where we played and splashed with the kids of the village for awhile.




We said our goodbyes and headed back for the night.  We spent some time after dinner organizing all of the leftover medical supplies to be placed into storage for future trips.

Tomorrow we travel again.  I need to be pressure-washed and soaked.  Can’t wait to see my crew!




7/5/17: Medical clinic day 3

We had another productive day in our medical clinic.  We were able to provide care in two different locations today, and by the end of the day we had seen about 85 kids! Phew! I know you love to see beautiful faces, so here they are:


Had to pull the smile out of this one…


Look at all these handsome boys!


What a goof ball


If you’re going to play the kazoo, it should definitely be a bright pink lip-shaped kazoo.

For my medical friends who may be curious about the kinds of things we are seeing, mostly the children are pretty healthy.   We have been seeing relatively minor things such as ringworm, uncomplicated infections, lots of umbilical hernias (I am guessing the prevalence of worms/parasites in this population creates more pressure on the abdominal wall making this more common, but if anyone has a better explanation please chime in!), asthma, GERD, some dental caries, anemia, asthma, eczema, and the like.

We have some quite a few team members that are not medical professionals, and they have been so important to the success of our clinic.  Also, they get to have most of the fun, if I’m being totally honest.  These ladies get to play with the kids–and when I say play, I mean PLAY.  I’m talking sack races and soccer games and manicures and lots of loving and giggling.  I can hear it going on out there, and I just know that our interactions with these kids are so much better because of what they do.

Some of our awesome Canadian ladies who love to play with the kids!

I know tonight’s update is a little short and boring, but I’m exhausted.  So let’s conclude with a picture of a peacock and a turkey just, you know, hanging out.