Friday, September 23, 2011

The Fortress of Love and Acceptance

“Acceptance of one's life has nothing to do with resignation; it does not mean running away from the struggle. On the contrary, it means accepting it as it comes, with all the handicaps of heredity, of suffering, of psychological complexes and injustices.”
Paul Tournier 

A week ago tonight I put together a small party to launch my new book on Kindle, The Wednesday Boy.  I was so excited that I ignored the fact that I hadn’t felt well all week, that I was dizzy when I was helping the students in the cafeteria and that I felt out of breath with the least little bit of exertion. 

It was a wonderful night.  Even though I don’t drink, there was wine and champagne for those who did, water for me and sparkling grape juice for those that are festive without alcohol.  A beautiful cake and lovely little sandwiches were here to feed to soul of those who have contributed so much to my life and creative process. 

My dear friend, Emrys, worked almost through the whole party to make sure that the launch went off without a hitch.  When it was all ready, she called me over to push the button.  I was amazed at how much power I could feel with the push of a button.  My baby was born into the world, ready to be judged by anyone who stops to look.

Saturday I felt exhausted, but that made sense in the context of giving “birth” and hosting a party and a very long week at work.  Sunday I walked with my friend, Karen, around a 3 mile path at a Tulsa park.  I had to stop many times to catch my breath, very unlike my usual pace and determination.

I ended up in the hospital Monday night.  Almost my entire left lung was full of fluid and had to be drained.  Having just recovered from throat cancer, my doctors were concerned.  My doctors went rapidly from concerned to confused, because with me “it’s always complicated.”

Going from the highest excitement to a mysterious diagnosis that is leading to more tests and surgery, is interesting.  Viewing the situation from the observer’s position, however, I have found acceptance.  I have found a circle of love and compassion that just encompasses whatever is to come.

I have the most amazing doctors…they are more than doctors, they are my friends.  I am grateful for their compassion, intelligence and sense of humor.  My friends and family have gathered like an army around me to hold me up.  My work family is praying and sustaining me.  What more could I possibly need?  While I’m carried on the wings of love and acceptance, I really am not worried.

Wonderful things are happening in my life.  I have the power to control my attitude and my responses.  I’m not discouraged and I’ve learned the most important lesson from my last bout with this horrible disease…
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE ME!!! 

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.”
Melody Beattie 

Recipe for Chicken-tortilla casserole
because variety is the spice of life!

1 Can (10 oz) of condensed cream of chicken soup
1 Can (4.5 oz) chopped green chilies
1 Container (8 oz) sour cream
½ C milk
1 ½ C shredded cooked chicken breast
8 soft corn tortillas (6 inch), torn into bite size pieces
1 medium bell pepper, chopped
1 large tomato, chopped
1 ½ C shredded Mexican Cheese

1.   Heat oven to 350 degrees.  Spray 3 quart glass baking dish with cooking spray.
2.   Mix soup, chiles, sour cream and milk in a large bowl until blended.  Stir in chicken, tortillas, bell pepper, tomato and 1 C of the cheese.  Spread mixture in baking pan.
3.   Cover with foil.  Bake 40 minutes.  Uncover and sprinkle remaining cheese.  Bake 5- 10 more minutes uncovered.  Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

A World of My Imagination...

“Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life's coming attraction.”  Albert Einstein 

Until I was five, I lived on a farm where my playmates were dogs, chickens (chickens are bullies and not nice friends, by the way) and imaginary friends.  When we moved to town, we lived on a quiet street without children and Kindergarten wasn’t required, so I played with dogs, no more chickens (thank goodness) and BOOKS!

At the age of seven, when I found my classmates to be more like the chickens than the dogs, I began to write my own stories.  My sisters, being neither literary types nor child psychologists, laughed until they cried at my tragic little story, but I still liked it.  The little girl I wrote about was my new imaginary friend and I was truly sad when she met her untimely demise at the end… “All except she was already dead.” is now a famous quote in my family.

In fourth grade I was blessed with the most wonderful teacher in the world.  When I wrote she had me read to the class.  She called my mother and told her my writing was incredible.  Under the warm wing of her praise, I hatched a million imaginary friends and their stories.

I wrote tragic poetry in my teens.  I won an essay contest in middle school.  Writing has always been my passion, but I never saw it as an option.  When I got my degree, it was in something sensible…elementary education.  When I got my master’s degree it was in marriage and family therapy.  I thought any of my future writing would be serious and scholarly, but there are no imaginary friends there…just facts and numbers and names.  I began to miss my imaginary friends while I was developing real ones.

When I wrote The Wednesday Boy, I got reacquainted with imaginary friends.  I fell in love with Allie and Allison.  I even love Allie’s terrible cousin, India, for a whole different set of reasons.  As they told their stories through me and my imagination, I knew that I had arrived home. 

Last night I pushed the button to release my new book into the world.  My heart and home were filled with support, love, creativity and imagination.  Not one of the friends that attended my launch party was imaginary and there wasn’t one chicken among them!

                                                                                 Jamie Paolinetti

Recipe for a Chicken Dinner
This recipe is only 300 calories…IMAGINE THAT!!!

1 tablespoon olive oil                                  1 jar (12 oz) homestyle chicken gravy
1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic              1 bag mixed veggies (broccoli/carrots/cauli)
4 boneless skinless chicken breasts       ½ C halved cherry tomatoes
¼ teaspoon salt                                            ¼ teaspoon pepper

1.    In 12 inch skillet, heat oil over medium heat.  Add garlic and cook for a couple of minutes.
2.     In the same skillet, mix gravy, frozen veggies, and tomatoes.  Cover and cook for 6-8 minutes, stirring occasionally, until veggies are crispy tender.
3.    Return chicken to skillet.  Cover and simmer about 2 minutes or until chicken is thoroughly heated.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

One More Time With ENTHUSIASM!!!

“A man can succeed at almost anything for which he has unlimited enthusiasm.” 

Intense and eager enjoyment, interest or approval

I am one of those annoyingly enthusiastic people.  I’m the crazy fan that still sings and claps to Peter, Paul and Mary while everyone else is rolling their eyes.  I’m the person that will still believe in you when everyone else has called it a day.  I really had to become a school counselor, a life coach and an author…there really was no other way!    

Because I have runaway enthusiasm, it was sad to me entering a Preschool classroom with a huge group of four-year-olds (which is any number higher than three) and being met with no enthusiasm.  It happened to me last week.  I decided to start off our school year with a rousing can-can dance to a little ditty written to the original tune by Jacques Offenbach, with words that ask, “Can, Can, Can you pay attention, do I have to mention, all the times you didn’t listen…”  Needless to say, this is a dance based on fierce enthusiasm when presented to sixth graders, but the four-year-olds said, “I’m too tired” and “I don’t want to” (spoken with the distinct whine that only Preschoolers can manage) in spite of my annoying passion and persistence.  I figure this was as good a way as any to initiate the little ones into the whacky world of school counseling.  I know that by Kindergarten they’ll be used to me.  Until then, I can’t wait to see what they do with the Chicken Dance!

Have you ever had one of those great ideas that set your heart on fire?  Maybe you were so excited that you immediately told a family member or a best friend?  You conveyed all the enthusiasm that you could muster…and someone deflated you faster than a beach ball in a cactus garden.  It might have felt like twenty four-year-olds flopped on a mat.

Where did all that enthusiasm go?  Why do we abandon it so quickly?  And why do we set ourselves up for the ultimate POP of our excitement bubble by sharing with people who are dream killers? 

Many people spend a lot of time waiting to be overtaken by enthusiasm, but the harsh truth is that enthusiasm is a choice.  You can catch someone else’s enthusiasm like an elusive butterfly, but you’ll lose it quickly if you don’t make the choice to hold on to it.  No one can douse your enthusiasm, not even a class of sluggish Preschoolers, unless you make the choice to let the fire go out.

Every morning when my eyes open, I have a choice to make.  Am I going to live this day with enthusiasm?  Will this be an exciting day or will I decide to make it an ordinary one? When I get to work, I plant myself at the front door where I clap and cheer when I see each child coming into school.  It’s not just my job to ignite excitement and joy for them to be at Anderson Elementary, it’s my passion.  I still see some grumpy, tired faces, but I see a lot more smiles and children running toward me with their arms outstretched, ready to meet their day, thrilled that someone, even the annoyingly enthusiastic counselor, is excited to see them.

A mother stopped me in the hall this morning and shared something with me. She said, “My son told me that you were the only reason he enjoys coming to school every day.”  And I knew that I am making the right choice!

“If you don't love what you do, you won't do it with much conviction or passion.
Mia Hamm

Recipe for Passion Fruit Pannacota 
(For when you’re choosing PASSION!)
300 ml pouring cream
260 gm (270ml) natural yogurt
4 Tbsp honey
2 3/4 titanium strength gelatine leaves (approx. 3 3/4 tsp of powdered gelatine) softened in cold water
Seeds from 1 vanilla pod
PASSIONFRUIT SYRUP
4 passionfruit, pulp only (or canned)
50 gm castor (berry) sugar
Juice from 1/2 lime
1/4 cup water
Special equipment: 150-200 ml Dariole or panna cotta moulds
Preparation:
1.      Very lighlty grease the dariole moulds with a little vegetable oil on a paper towel.
2.      Whisk the cream and yogurt together in a large bowl until smooth. Set aside.
3.      Bring honey and vanilla seeds to a simmer in a small saucepan. Squeeze excess water from gelatine and add it to the honey -- stir to dissolve.
4.      Stir honey mixture through the yogurt mixture, then divide among four lightly greased dariole moulds. Refrigerate until set (4-5 hours - or even overnight).
5.      Make the passionfruit syrup. Combine ingredients together in a small saucepan. Simmer over a medium heat for about 10 minutes or until the liquid becomes syrupy. Set aside to cool.
6.      Just before serving, dip bases of panna cotta moulds in warm water for a few seconds, turn out onto serving plates and spoon on the passionfruit syrup. Serve immediately.

Friday, September 2, 2011

How to Eat an Elephant

“Great things are done by a series of small things brought together.”
– Vincent Van Gogh

Sometimes eating an elephant seems like a great idea.  Sometimes eating an elephant is thrust upon us.  Whichever it is, eating an elephant is not for the faint of heart!

My son recently decided to eat an elephant. He’s started driving a truck a few months ago and yesterday became a lease operator.  There’s a lot more potential to earn money, but the enormity of the situation suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks.  The payments are gigantic and the miles he has to drive are many.  I can almost hear him say, “Mom, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I have this dead elephant and now I have to eat it.” 

I ate an elephant last year by getting through seven weeks of chemo and radiation after surgery.  I would have preferred the vegetarian diet, but the great dietician in the sky decided I needed chewy, flavorless, tough hide instead!

Usually, the first thing we do after we start chewing on elephant carcass is to worry.  What if we can’t get it all down?  Who do we think we are, trying to show off like that, or just managing to get through it?  What if we get tired of elephant and are stuck eating it the rest of our lives?  What if we don’t even like elephant?  What if all our friends see us eating elephant and either shun us or are jealous of us?  How should we even attempt to eat an elephant?  One bite at a time!

Many people give up because they look at the whole elephant and get overwhelmed. So when the worry starts to overwhelm you, STOP and think about what you can do about it right this second?  If the answer is nothing then let it go (breathing helps).  During cancer treatment, it was tempting to look at the entire treatment and what it was going to do to me, instead of just getting up every morning and taking a bite of elephant.  For my son, it’s more worrisome to think of the grand sum that his truck is going to cost than to focus on the weekly payments.  Break down that elephant into bite size chunks and don’t forget to remove the bones.

Don’t try to eat the whole elephant at once.  I’m not sure why some people think they have to overwhelm themselves, but it will choke them eventually.  It is an effective way to sabotage yourself, however. 

Use variety when you can!  Sometimes you need to put the elephant down and eat a brownie!  Use sauces and gravies and little sprigs of parsley, if they make you happy.  Everything can’t be about the elephant you’re downing.  It’s easy to let every conversation be about that dad gummed elephant, don’t let that happen.   

Give yourself a lot of credit and praise each and every time you take another bite.  Post it on your Facebook wall.  Take out an advertisement.  Hire one of those planes with the sign on the back.  Complain a little if you need to, but mostly brag about your amazing capacity as a human being to tackle something so huge!

At some point in your life, you will be asked to eat an elephant…either by yourself or someone else.  Just remember to open wide, chew thoroughly and inspire everyone else with a great elephant recipe!

Good luck, Benjamin!  I know you’ll do well! 
Love you,
Mom

“What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step. It is always the same step, but you have to take it.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry~

Recipe for Fudgy Frosted Cake (for when you’re sick of chewing elephants)
6 squares of semi sweet chocolate                   ½ C butter or margarine
1 C brown sugar                                                     ½ C evaporated milk
1 package white or yellow cake mix (w/pudding)

Generously spray 13x 9 inch pan.  Line bottom with wax paper and spray again.  Heat chocolate, butter, brown sugar and evaporated milk in a saucepan, low heat, stirring until smooth.  Spread on bottom of pan, prepare cake and slowly pour batter over chocolate mixture.  Bake at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes.  Cool for 15 minutes.  Use spatula to remove from pan.  Sprinkle with chopped nuts or coconut.
Enjoy!