But how many grams is it?

There are things that I love and things that drive me mad. To my detriment, one thing I love is good food. One thing that drives me crazy is children (or husbands) who eat giant, heaping bowls of cereal. These two passions of mine converge on one of my favorite pieces of kitchen equipment; the food scale. If I want something yummy, I can weigh out a serving or a half serving and indulge with moderation and responsibility. The kids can weigh out their cereal in the morning and have one serving, keeping Mommy happy. I look the other way while they shove a few more pieces in their mouths once the bowl has achieved its goal weight. The Mailman only uses the food scale to weigh his Swaptree packages, not bowls of cereal. For him, I look the other way while he eats the aforementioned giant, heaping bowl of cereal.
Another thing I despise giant, heaping bowls of is ice cream. So, this treat also must make weight before it is served. Now, the kids are trained at this point to look at the serving size on something before they eat it. So, they know that one serving of Costco's Super Premium Vanilla ice cream is 108 grams. Being miniature foodies, they understand that this is because it has less air than the Turkey Hill ice cream, which weighs 69 grams for the same half cup serving. Armed with this knowledge, they demand a full 108 grams and don't go quietly when I serve them 81 and say "No, really, that's enough. Especially since you're having berries (or fudge sauce or whatever) with it." Whoever thought children could pout while they eat ice cream?
I realized what monsters I had created with my food scale on Monday at lunch. The children wanted ice cream for dessert, and I gave in. While they played in the yard, I had a brainstorm. "Make them banana splits, you have bananas and fudge and sprinkles", the good mommy voice said. I did just that. Pleased with myself, I carried the treats out to the picnic table. They came running from the swings, sat down and grabbed the spoons and smiled. They looked up at me and said, not thank you, not wow mom you're great, but simply "How many grams is it?"
It's okay, though. At least I know I've taught them to be conscious of what they eat and how much. I hope that knowledge will stay with them and serve them well for a lifetime, though I have seen them look longingly at their father's bowls of cereal and ice cream and imagine what their lives might be like when they are grown-ups.

Small Wonder

Knitting is a path to sanity for me. In the midst of the chaos that composes my daily life, knitting is a little oasis of calm and peace. Because of the chaos, I don't often knit anything complicated; I need to be able to put it down and deal with whatever situation comes up, be it a math problem someone doesn't understand or an argument or whatever. Charity projects fit the bill nicely for this, and one of my favorites is the Oddball Charity Knitters. I belong to the Northeast region, and we make baby blankets that go to Montefiore hospital in NYC and the Special Delivery Unit at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. Each blanket is made by several knitters, traveling through the mail after each one completes his or her section. Then a border is added, and the blankets are washed and delivered to the hospitals. The Mailman is quite supportive of me in this endeavor, likely because he has calculated the amount of postage that is spent on the project. Or maybe because he sees how happy it makes me to be a part of it, to be able to use my talents to bring comfort to those in need. Probably, it's both.
Small Wonder is a blanket to represent the state of Delaware, which is part of our region. I didn't get a chance to knit on this one, but I did crochet the border. I think it came out beautifully. Take a look for yourself:

I'm grateful that I get to be a part of this group. What an amazing group of people that pool their time and talents to improve the lives of sick children and their families. And that is no small thing but a wonder indeed.