March 25, 2010

Veggie Girl Versus the Meat Monster

A few weeks ago, I posted about my diva's decision to be a vegetarian. And then, her decision not to be a vegetarian.

Except, as it happens, she is still a vegetarian. Most of the time. Well, really, while the sun's up. She is a vegetarian every day for breakfast. She is a vegetarian every day for lunch.

It's dinner that gets her.

Pretty much every night that my kids are with me, we have a home-cooked, please-pass-the-potatoes, family-style dinner. Big bowls and platters and a basket of bread from the bakery. Thing is, I can't really make it meat-free. My Aspie craves protein like most folks crave water (or, in my case, chocolate). So meat's on the table. Period.

Veggie Girl's dilemma? She likes meat. She really really likes meat.

She also really wants to be a vegetarian. So she tries. Every night at dinner she fills her plate with bread and veggies and happy side dishes. She adds on veggie burgers and cheese and hard-boiled eggs. She eats. She goes back for seconds.

And that's when she finds that she can't really resist the chicken.

Tonight I served meatloaf. It's a funky little meatloaf fully of carrots and onions and whole wheat bread, and I'm perpetually shocked that my kids love it. But they do. And that includes my Veggie Girl.

Veggie Girl: "What are you making?"
Me: "Meatloaf."
VG: "I like meatloaf. What's it made of?"
Me: "Cow."
"Oh. That's red meat." she says. She thinks. "You know, I only eat red meat."
Me: "Don't you like chicken, too?"
VG: "Right. I only eat red meat and chicken. ... And fish."

She's still a vegetarian. Or so she tells me. She's just a vegetarian who eats meat.

And hey, look, a recipe! Because if this meatloaf can tempt Veggie Girl, your kids (if you've got 'em) might just like it, too.

Meat Monster Meatloaf
Adapted from Better Homes and Gardens' New Cook Book (1996)

1 beaten egg
1 slice of whole wheat bread, crumbled
1/4 milk
1/2 medium onion, chopped to tiny bits in a food processor
1/4-1/2 c carrots, chopped to tiny bits in a food processor
1/2 tsp oregano
1 lb ground beef (don't go lean for meatloaf - you need that fat to compensate for the long cooking time)
2 Tbs ketchup

In a mixing bowl, combine everything, along with a bit of salt and pepper. Mix it up well. Pat mixture into a loaf pan and bake in a 350 F oven for 45 to 50 minutes, or until no pink remains (use a meat thermometer - it should reach 170 F). Let rest for 5 minutes, transfer to a platter, and serve. My mom always put a bit of tomato paste on the top about 5 minutes before it came out of the oven, but my kids didn't take to that part, so I leave it off.

Strep and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

I know nothing about motorcycles.

Strep, though? Strep I know. It's not incredibly zen. More tired-and-cranky making. And we're deep in the heart of it.

My Aspie has it. Strep gives him a foul temper, a foul mouth, and outrageously foul breath. And no other symptoms. Kid can't feel a sore throat, so he just gets foul. Lovable - totally lovable. And totally foul.

My little guy has it too. It kept him up all night for two nights in a row. Gave him a scary high fever and a "hurty neck." That all makes him tired, and the tireds make him cranky.

And I have it. I have it, and I'm cranky because I can't sleep when the kids are always awake, and because I have work to do and little people to take care of and groceries to shop for and my throat hurts and I have an (admittedly small) fever. I also have an awesome au pair (seriously, she's awesome - she says things like, "you shouldn't do those dishes, you're sick," and "of course you're not talking too much") ... but she's sick too. It's not strep, thankfully. But she's sick nevertheless.

The diva is not streppy. Nor is she sick. She's just surrounded by cranky. Lots and lots of cranky, from everyone but the awesome au pair. So the diva's cranky, too.

All that cranky makes for a fun, fun time.

Oh, and we seem to have infected a few friends, including one of my wine and pie buddies who was gracious enough to watch my kids for me for a few hours on Sunday. The strep was our way of saying thank you.

You know how she said you're welcome? She made a complete right turn in the middle of a phone call this evening to tell me what a great mom I am. And how great my kids are. And how much fun she had with them (while they were giving her strep). And how wonderful they are together.

I gave her strep. She gave me happy mushy mommy tears.

It may not be zen, but it's close.

March 10, 2010

Parenthood (The TV Show)

I've been watching "Parenthood." It's hard to resist because among its very many storylines, it features two parents managing their son's diagnosis with Asperger's Syndrome. Alan Sepinwall, my favorite TV critic ever (seriously - I've been following him for about a decade now), wrote a read-worthy article about Asperger's and TV if you want to know more.

The thing that gets me? These parents, they went from identification in the pilot to full-on diagnosis in episode two.

That process took us eight years. Eight. Years.

My son was identified by an astute preschool teacher when he was three. He was evaluated at four (diagnosis: bad parenting), and again in first grade (diagnosis: ADHD and "on the spectrum"). And then, because apparently "on the spectrum" isn't good enough for our current state of residence, it was a year of realizing they had to have a label to give him the support he needed, two years on a waiting list, nine months waiting for a report, and another three months waiting for the school to say, "Oh, wait. Asperger's? Really?"

I'm trying to suspend disbelief. I mean, it's TV. But, seriously? One episode?

That said, the quirky kid in a pirate costume who trades bites of food for TV time and can reel off arcane facts about Billboard's greatest hits is eerily familiar. For my kid it's hockey stats and superheroes. He was never a pirate, but for a full year he insisted the world call him Peabo. And he'll eat anything - seriously, anything - on the promise of a music video on YouTube. Today, in fact, he ate a giant serving of broccoli just so he could watch the last 10 minutes of a "He-Man" episode after dinner.

So, yeah. I get it.

They get it too. Because in two episodes, they've also found a way to show the sheer joy, the brilliance and the wonder of parenting a kid with Asperger's. It's wrapped up in frustration and doubt and a bit of railing at the world. But it's all in there. Just as it would be with any other child.

I think I'll keep watching.