TJ Hirst

My neighbor and I took a walk just before dinner this week, and we compared what we’ve been feeding our families. I coveted her dinners-for-two menu of salmon and rice and wondered if we would ever be able to eat adult food again.

I had been to the grocery store and once again stocked our pantry with cold cereal, snacks, and fun foods to take for school lunch. “I probably spend 90% of my food budget on filler foods and maybe just 10% for the real food,” I said.

That’s not really true, but those fillers do seem to take up more space, not only in the pantry but also in our diet—and ultimately fill up other places.

In this month’s issue of Real Simple different families share how they balance the dinner hour in their home. For me, the question is not so much balancing schedules but balancing expectations, nutritional needs and taste preference in our family.

I took a chance on the Wheat Berry Salad with Bacon, hoping to find the balance between fiber, flavor and fun. The recipe was easy, made good use of the wheat in my pantry and wasn’t sneered at by the commentators in my house. I made it my own by replacing the flat-leaf parsley with fresh thyme from my garden and adding a chopped fresh pear.

Everyone ate it, but it tasted the best when I lunched on the leftovers on the screen porch by myself. With the sun shining on me for one of the last of our warm summer days, I imagined that this would be the way I would eat if I just cooked for myself. Fruits, vegetables, grains, a little meat for flavor. I would be satisfied.

Somehow, though, the meal just didn’t seem complete without sneaking that Little Debbie Fudge Round from the stash of lunch desserts.

How do you balance the varying nutritional needs and taste preferences of your family?

The Question: Have I Seen the Hand of God Reaching Out To Touch Us Today?

If you’re a regular reader, you’ve probably noticed my writing growing shorter the past few months. As the summer wore me down, I posted more visual aids to tell my story and share my feelings. As a result, I’m a better photographer; yet, I’m a writer for a reason—writing is therapeutic. I need to write.

We labored on Labor Day weekend by washing the 70 windows in our house—as a family. Yes, it is an overwhelming image.

I don’t know what was more laborious, the physical work or the emotional cheerleading. Don’t try to imagine me in a short skirt waving pom poms to enthuse everyone; it wasn’t me who wore that hat. In fact, my emotions weren’t attractive.

Normally, I wash windows in the spring. When our time filled, I planned to do it in the fall.

By the way, I love my windows, and I even love washing them. They are H-windows and pivot on a hinge in the middle of the window. I can stand inside, push the window open, and flip it 180 degrees to turn the outside glass toward the inside. I wash most of the windows, even the two-story ones, this way from the inside without a ladder. The tallest windows in our living room and attic crow’s nest, however, are not operable and must be washed from a ladder.

This year, I asked for help from our capable kids. Capable, yes, but not so willing to work on their last days of freedom. My expectations ruined theirs.

Paul took our teenager to help him with the tall outside windows while I worked with the two younger ones on the inside. I taught my son the whole process: first, take the screen out, vacuum the screen, wipe the screen, then vacuum the windowsill, wipe the windowsill, dip the rag in the cleaning solution while holding the rag over another rag to prevent dripping on the floors, wash the glass, squeegee off the water, wipe the squeegee with a dry rag between each pass, and finish with a dry paper towels on the spots the squeegee missed.

I sent him to wash the windows ahead of me while I retaught the process to our youngest daughter. If this teaching moment lasted I would be reciting, “Train up a child in the way he should go. . .”.

Except, my son had questions about streaking. When I went to answer him, the outside helpers needed something. When I got back to my daughter, she had to redo what she’d done.

I could go on describing how hard it was to manage my emotions. But, unlike a mother who has to go on despite the stresses, when I write, I can end it whenever I want. Let’s just say that all the windows are clean enough for a bird to mistake them for clear sky and our family still loves each other.

Can opposition be a source of illumination? I feel muddied by such negative experiences, and light and understanding seem far away. But if it leads me to admit my errors, especially to my husband and children and seek their forgiveness, then it is a cleansing of a more important kind.

On Monday afternoon, my fourth grader said, “I’ll miss you, but I want to go back to school.”

And I said, “I’ll miss you, but I want you to go back to school, too.”

On Monday evening, we had a two-hour meltdown over a missing you-can’t-get-on-the-school-bus-without-it bus card. The panic came from looking and looking without any hope. Yet, the emotions burning from my heart to my throat more likely included fear that I may not able to cope one more minute if she didn’t make it onto the bus.

If you really want something to read today . . .

I wrote an article for the September edition of Root and Sprout, a parenting website with the purpose of helping children and parents grow together. My article is Dating Your Spouse: How to Reclaim Your Marriage. It’s in the Mom and Dad’s section following another great article from Michelle Mitchell at Scribbit on Ten Tips to Prepare for Severe Weather. And one of the most enjoyable reads is “It’s Back-to-School Time. Why Do I Feel Happy?” by Terena Scott.

I’m impressed with the content that comes from such a wide variety of writers. It’s worth checking out.

This is my daughter, but it is how I feel at the end of a summer filled with teaching, supervising, playing, refereeing, and loving.  I find comfort in this verse:

Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing,
for ye are laying the foundation of a great work.
And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.

Doctrine and Covenants Section 64 verse 33