Tag: family

feelings

open to interpretation

abby mumford

even if i have the recipe right in front of me, my cooking skills are not top notch. sure, i can complete the most basic of dishes, but don’t expect me to prepare a full color oil painting type dish. it’s best if you only expect a stick figure meal from me.

sister J and i were tasked with completing christmas dinner while mom, dad, and sister E went out to spread the holiday cheer. this is a multi dish dinner and one we’ve helped mom make over the years. we were floating high with the christmas spirit and figured it’d be no big deal. what we didn’t account for was the absence of mom’s knowledgable eyes watching over us. our cooking efforts rapidly distintigrated.

J: should i err on the side of too many cashews or too few?

me: too many. everyone loves nuts. (TWSS)

meanwhile, me: *stirs vigorously* J, this chocolate sauce isn’t so much a sauce. it’s more of a tar. think i should add more water?

J: yes. no. I DON’T KNOW! help! this cashew butter is just a pile of cashews. it’s too salty.

me: *eyes pot* *tastes* *tongue shrivels from excess salt* i think you should have erred on the side of too few nuts.

our laughter boiled quicker than the sauces. eventually i got the chocolate sauce to thin (too much, of course) and J fixed the cashew butter and the dinner turned out almost as delicious as ever, though we did get a few “i’ve never seen it done this way before.” that’s what happens you leave a project open to someone else’s interpretation.

it’s like reading a book. when you sit down to read, you bring your own life experiences and information with you. when the author wrote that scene about a family dinner, he might have meant it to be a minor scene, one to show the dynamics of the family, but when i read that scene, i flashed back to that one time sister J and i had to take charge in the kitchen. neither of us suspected we’d have to call on all of our culinary knowledge and since said knowledge is rather limited, we laughed to cover the gaps because we were down in the trenches together, family style. i automatically think of family dinners as major scenes, not minor moments.

it’s just like my coworker said, “a book is never complete until it’s read.” and that’s because the author writes the story they intended, but i read the story as it relates to my life and you read the tale as it exists in relation to you and he reads it with his rose tinted glasses and she reads it with a cynical slant and on and on. the most successful stories make us all feel like the story was written exclusively about ourselves.

perhaps THIS is why i read. i’m looking for bits of myself. my definition of self is still evolving and so finding pieces of myself as i relate to the story, to the author, to my surroundings, to my family, to my life helps to solidify my view of me.

so in this post holiday haze, i declare we should all keep reading, keep cooking, keep learning, keep living. they’re all noble pursuits.

feelings

santa’s secrets

abby mumford

december 24th has always been a magical sort of day, especially when the stockings were hung by the chimney with care cause we knew SANTA WAS COMING!

GROWING UP. santa’s arrival was SUCH AN EXCITING THING, it was impossible to sleep in. since my poor parents had been up to all hours getting things ready, they refused to get out of bed before the sun was up (how rude), but we weren’t allowed to open presents until they were awake. what a conundrum! and so to contain our energy (read: delay the inevitable), they compromised with us: we could open stocking gifts without parents present. and so. we did. at 5am. and then we’d fall asleep waiting for mom and dad to wake up before the main show (breakfast, getting dressed, making beds, and then OPENING PRESENTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) could begin.

NEXT. we got older and found out what (or rather who) is behind the magic. at first, it seems a bit disappointing, but then you realize the magic is still there because when you think about it (and you do), you understand that it really does take magic to pull off an event like christmas. (and you thank your parents for the efforts they put in all those years). and you get excited by the holiday all over again.

AND THEN. i was lucky enough to have sister E be born when i was 11, which meant we got to play along with the santa magic, except this time, WE were the magic. i don’t have to tell you how cool it was to be in on the secret. to be the one eating the cookies and drinking the milk and nibbling the carrots left out for santa and his reindeer. to be the one who’s footsteps could be mistaken for a reindeer on the roof. sister E outgrew it, but nieces and nephews catapulted onto the scene and so us being the magic continued. happily.

AND NOW. all those years believing + all those years being means the magic for me is still tangible. probably because i want it to be. and i don’t mean i want it to be true that one man flies all over the world delivering presents and taking credit away from mom and dad. what i mean is that i now know how hard this holiday is on everyone and so i want the magic to inflitrate our worlds as laughter and relaxing moments and shiny lights and warm family moments and getting to sleep in.

thanks for putting on a merry show again this year, Santa, i mean, mom and dad. 

feelings

FGN

abby mumford

one of the defining characteristics of being at home with the family is game night. and by game night, i don’t mean one night a week is set aside for the gathering of family around a polite board game. by game night, i mean any spare moment where there are at least two people and a deck of cards handy.

i am one of four siblings (two of which are married) plus two parents means more often than not, we’ve got too many contenders for what the kitchen table can hold. that doesn’t stop us. we cram on in and start dealing. and perhaps not so surprisingly, it’s from these nights smushed around a too small table that i’ve learned many of life’s lessons:

(1) arithmetic. in the game: if you don’t keep track of your own points, no one will. in life: simple math comes in handy way more than you’d care to admit to your fifth grade teacher; at the grocery store, at work; balancing your checkbook; tipping the waitress; and on and on and oh make it stop.

(2) the art of bragging, aka confidence. in the game: winning (for me) is inconsistent, so you have to toot your own horn when (if) the situation arises. in life: this is the hardest lesson to learn. perhaps start with a “raise the roof” when you do something grand, like remembering to buy the toilet paper. the confidence will build from there.

(3) communication. in the game: you may be playing a partner game. eyebrow waggles. finger snaps. coughs. morse code. these are important TOP SEKRIT forms of communication. learn them. in life: talking in plain english is a vastly underrated skill, so if (when) all else fails, try a series of heel clicks or tongue clucks. that’s sure to get the point across.

(4) deception. in the game: it’s all about the poker face, even if you’re playing go fish. in life: you may feel like you’re unqualified to raise a kid or do the job your boss assigned to you or cook that meal or make that call, so you have to fake it til you make it. good thing you’ve already learned about poker faces.

(5) humility. in the game: you aren’t going to win very often, so the only way to enjoy the bottom of the scoreboard is by wrapping your arm around last place. really, we’re all winners here. in life: really, we’re all winners here.

(6) humor. in the game: again, you aren’t going to win very often, so best to keep the crowds laughing and the mood light. if you’re working a tough crowd, always keep a plate of homemade cookies handy. in life: knock knock. who’s there? canoe. canoe who? canoe lend me some money?

(7) organization. in the game: your cards need to be structured to allow for the fastest possible play. this game waits for no one. in life: oh man, your apartment is smaller than you ever wished for and the closet space is shockingly limited, so organizing your clothes and dishes is a necessity. your job is busier than you ever anticipated and you have almost more work than you can handle, so keeping track of that workload requires many structured calendars. your personal life is full, so figuring out who to meet at which restaurant on what night is important. being organized keeps all those ducks in a row.

(8) patience. in the game: learning the games takes time. waiting for your opponents to make their move often takes longer than you’d like, but then again, if the game seems to be moving along, YOU’RE probably the one soliciting the patience from others. give it so you can get it. in life: you hate waiting, so you are determined not to have anyone wait for you (golden rule, my friends) which means that you are early/on time for everything which means you end up waiting. all the time. deep breath in, patience is a virtue, deep breath out.

(9) shuffling a deck of cards. in the game: this is a lost art form. you’d be surprised at how many people are impressed with this skill, especially the bridge. in life: i repeat, this is a lost art form. you’d be surprised at how many people are impressed with this skill, especially the bridge.

(10) thinking on your feet. in the game: your opponents will make moves you never expected, so you may have to adjust your game winning strategy. in life: you can’t read peoples’ minds, so your friends, family, lovers, enemies, colleagues are bound to act in ways you never imagined. thinking quickly, reacting swiftly is a necessity so long as you want to appear competent.

and now, excuse me. i’ve got to practice shuffling the deck like those vegas guys. hey, if i can’t win at home, at least i can WOW ’em with cheap parlor tricks.

travel

role models

abby mumford

traveling gives you a fresh perspective on yourself, your likes, your dislikes, your neighborhood, your family, your friends, your habits, your life. basically, it will flip your notions upside down. the farther you travel away from home, the knowledge you learn will increase exponentially.*

i was in denver this past weekend. i had the good fortune to be able to swing a last minute visit, which meant i had two and a half days with my mom and maga (my grandmother). amidst the flights and food and christmas cards and conversations and quiet moments, i learned about these people i call my family.

for instance, there is MAGA. she is 89 years and 8 months old. what a trooper she is. she is dealing with the aches, pain, and confusion of getting older, but she manages to put a smile on her face and get out there in the world despite the fact that every morning she wakes up without jobo (my grandfather), she does so with a broken heart. her advanced age means she can’t continue the globe trotting ways of her youth, and so, she brings the globe to her. egypt and india are the only two places she and jobo never visited, so when the king tut exhibit set up shop in the denver art museum, she got tickets for herself and mom and me and we all walked like egyptians.

thanks, maga, for showing me how to retain my sassiness for 89+ years. and for showing me how to bring the world to my doorstep.

for instance, my DAD is a sly guy. he’s not upfront with his emotions, so you have to listen for his declarations of love. i’m glad i now know how to do that. this time, it took the form of him looking up my (ridiculously small windowed) connection in philly. he let me know which gate i’d be arriving at (B14) and which gate i had to get to (C18) in 15 minutes. (i originally had 40 whole minutes, but de-icing a plane + waiting while the pilots shoo a fly out of the cockpit cuts into that.) he gave me specific directions on how to get from one gate to the next (because i am amazingly adept at getting lost). he even emailed and texted me this information because he wasn’t sure which i’d get to first. (side note, i LOVE my smartphone.)

too bad i didn’t turn on my phone until after i landed in boston.

thanks, dad, for giving me a reason to practice letting someone take care of me. i’d kind of forgotten.

for instance, there is my MOM. i had the opportunity to witness my mother as a mother but not while mothering me, which (still with me?) means i was able to objectively watch and appreciate her parenting skills. observing her taking care of her mother was something phenomenal. i felt like i had put on a pair of super-scientific-x-ray-night-vision-high-tech-not-yet-created-but-probably-will-be-soon* goggles and instead of seeing bones or guts or body heat, i could see her patience, her intelligence, her frustration, her sense of humor, her nerves of steel, her love.

growing up, it’s hard to see your mother for all of her sacrifices because, well, you can’t see past yourself. (those teen years are tough on everyone involved.) and even now, it’s still a bit hard to see her objectively because she’s either doing something for me or for one of my siblings and i’m too close to view the situation with any clarity. but denver enlightened me. my mom’s relationship with her mother is (not so) surprisingly a lot like hers and mine. they laugh, bicker, listen, talk, direct, clash, roll their eyes, are grateful for one another. another key fact: they still possess the ability to embarrass each other.

for instance, maga came down wearing a silk scarf tied around her head to keep her ear warm. i thought she looked adorable, however mom couldn’t stop laughing at how maga looked like a babushka. later that night, we were all at the neighbors (maga was sans scarf) when my mom announces to the group, “do you have any grandsons? abby’s available.” yup. thanks, mom.

but you know what? if having them as my role models means i’m going to grow up to be like them, i am ready to grow up.

any day now…..

in the meantime, thank you, mom, for being there for these first (almost, but not quite yet) 30 years. i wouldn’t be who i am today without your guidance, your expectations, your love.

*so says me, the scientific expert.

feelings

from one middle child to another

abby mumford

my dear nephew,

you turned 6 yesterday! i’m 5 times older than that (well almost. let’s not get ahead of ourselves), but don’t let that fact  scare you. i’m swear, i’m still pretty cool. i may not be able to work the blonde hair and blue eyes quite like you do, but then again, you probably don’t realize you’re rocking it. and come to think of it, you probably think girls are icky and don’t want them near you. but what you don’t realize is that the time will come, and when it does, you’ll see that blondes really do have more fun. (don’t tell your mom or dad i told you that.)

you probably don’t yet realize that all those hours you spend with your legos building and creating and destroying and building again are laying the foundation for a future engineer. typical mumford style. (unless you’re me.)

you probably don’t understand that by spending your lunch money (every day) on a bagel and cream cheese you are creating a lunch time tradition. a tradition that is delicious and fuels your body for an afternoon at school. an afternoon of learning important things like letters and numbers and calculus. it also shows that you are a creature of habit (me too, especially when it comes to food) and there is nothing wrong with being predictable. (trust me, ask any one of my friends what i’ll order when i’m out at brunch and they’ll tell you, without pause, french toast.) you know what you like and you’re not afraid to order it. but don’t forget that there are some really fantastic foods out there, like green beans and tomatoes and milk and apples and corn and sweet potatoes.

you also probably don’t realize your flexibility is an amazing trait your mom passed down to you. it’s important to keep limber because there’s nothing quite like crawling on the floor after your cars, climbing a tree, or riding your bike, but if you can’t touch your toes, those things aren’t nearly as much fun. (you’ll have to take my word for it.) and hopefully that physical flexibility will become a personality trait as well because as the middle child, you have to be able to go with the flow. your other siblings  may (sometimes) garner more attention, but it just means you get to be independent and do things on your own like the big guy you are.

but you know what? you shouldn’t know any of those things yet. you’re only 6. you should be focusing on the fun and the laughs and the good times and the cupcakes.  you’re only 6 once, go ahead and be silly! all the time!

happy birthday, aaron bear!