I'm not complaining...

...but really? 93 degrees in April? It was HOT today. A little transition between winter and summer would have been nice.

But no...I'm not complaining.

Growing Up

As a parent, I feel torn between wanting my kids to stay babies forever and wanting them to grow up quickly so I can see what they will grow into. Every day I try to enjoy them in their current phases and try not to push towards the future too much.

However, it's not really in my personality to enjoy the moment. I've always been more of a forward thinker. Back in the day my friends and I watched "Dead Poet's Society" until we had the whole thing memorized. Remember Carpe Diem? The movie made a big impression so I try.

Despite my best efforts at "seizing the day," I was getting a little anxious because Elizabeth seems to be the only one of her peers who has not lost her front teeth. Tonight one of them finally, stubbornly came out (with a little yanking, Elizabeth admitted).

I had a very strange affection for Elizabeth's front teeth. They were very tiny and positioned in a unique way that I hope I will always remember. I envision her new front teeth as being gigantic and sharp and well, adult.

Tonight I am happy and excited that Elizabeth has reached a milestone that many of her friends have already celebrated. Tomorrow I'll try to go back to enjoying the momoent but I know the whole time I'll be wondering when the other front tooth is going to finally come loose.

Poetry

Okay, the blog is 24 hours old and I'm already adding a post. This is good.

Ben found this poem on "The Writer's Almanac" and we both loved it so much that I thought I'd share it.

Meditation on Ruin
by Jay Hopler

It's not the lost lover that brings us to ruin, or the barroom brawl,
or the con game gone bad, or the beating
Taken in the alleyway. But the lost car keys,
The broken shoelace,
The overcharge at the gas pump
Which we broach without comment — these are the things that
eat away at life, these constant vibrations
In the web of the unremarkable.

The death of a father — the death of the mother —
The sudden loss shocks the living flesh alive! But the broken
pair of glasses,
The tear in the trousers,
These begin an ache behind the eyes.
And it's this ache to which we will ourselves
Oblivious. We are oblivious. Then, one morning—there's a
crack in the water glass —we wake to find ourselves undone.

Hot Off the Press

Last week I had a front page story in the Courier about some trees that were cut down in the Village of Clinton. This is the kind of small town news that gets people talking! I also had the honor of writing a really cheesy caption to the accompanying photo.

http://clintoncourier.com/

(By the way, if you want to continue to read the story, you have to register. There is no fee - you just have to provide some information.)

R.S.V.P.

If you have a child over one year old, you’ve probably had at least one birthday party for them. It’s one of those events that is well worth the hard work you put into it. When you see your child happily enjoying their friends, squishing cake in their face, or smiling to see their new gifts, you realize that birthdays are a milestone worthy of a good party.

As I’ve talked to my friends over the past few weeks, I’ve realized that there are many people, myself included, who struggle with one particular part of the planning: getting RSVP’s. It seems like a day or two before the party, there are a few people who still haven’t responded. No phone call. No voice mail messages. No e-mail. Nothing. You finally decide that if they haven’t called, they’re not coming. Right?

Not necessarily. My friend Frances recently had a birthday party for her daughter at the bowling alley. When 3 kids didn’t bother to RSVP, she assumed they couldn’t make it. Needless to say, she was pretty surprised when these kids actually showed up to the party. The staff at the bowling alley had to come up with seats and food for the kids, and Frances had to try to appease the staff while scrambling for extra treat bags.

In my opinion, Frances did the right thing. I guess she could have called those people to double-check. Or, she could have just packed up a few extra treat bags and told the bowling alley staff to add a few extra place settings just in case. But Frances is a busy mother and she made the easiest and most logical decision.

Clearly the parents of those 3 kids are not as logical as Frances. Was it that hard to pick up the phone? Has their e-mail been down for the last 2 weeks? How could you forget to RSVP but remember to come to the party?

Maybe they don’t know the meaning of RSVP. According to my research, it is an abbreviation for
the French phrase “Respondez, s’il vous plait,” meaning, “can’t you just find five seconds to email or pick up the dang phone and let us know if your kid is coming…please?”

In an effort to restore a little etiquette to the birthday parties of 2009, I have devised several different strategies for dealing with these situations:
1. New and improved invitations There are a number of ways to avoid the RSVP problem right off the bat. Instead of using the standard “RSVP” at the bottom of the invitation, offer incentives. “Call now and your child will receive extra Skittles in their treat bag!” How about adding “Call now! Space is limited!” Check with Hallmark to see if they make one of those “singing” cards that would play Blondie’s 80’s hit “Call Me.”
2. Revenge You can only hope that your child will get invited to their party. Since you know they’re free and easy way with responses, don’t think you can just forget to RSVP to their party. That won’t mean anything. Instead, forget to RSVP, bring your two younger kids along as well, tell the hostess that all your kids are highly allergic to their dogs and insist that they keep the dogs outside during the party. That will teach them about inconvenience!
3. Passive aggression Perhaps you’d like to show your annoyance with this family without coming on too strongly. When it’s time for cake, pretend you don’t hear the kid ask for a piece with extra frosting. At game time, give him an extra spin or two before Pin the Tail on the Donkey. When it comes time to mail the thank you notes, you could “forget” to put on a stamp or use the wrong zip code so it takes a long time for the note to arrive.
4. Plain old aggression On the other hand, there’s nothing wrong with coming on strong. On party day, hire a bouncer who will check the name of each child who RSVP’ed off of a guest list. If anyone isn’t on the list, instruct the bouncer to blockade the door. If the parents try to slip the bouncer $20 to get in, have the bouncer threaten to call 911.

So, the next time your kid gets a party invitation, you better not forget to RSVP. Put it on the refrigerator, the bulletin board, or on your “to do” list. It only takes a moment of your time and it means a lot to the person on the other side.

I’ll be mailing the invitations for my son’s party in a few weeks. I’d hate for you to have to meet my husband’s cousin Snake at the front door.

In Like a Lion, Out Like a Lamb

Our daughter was born in the first days of a New England spring, which is to say it was 30 degrees outside, snowing, and not a crocus or daffodil was in sight. The doctor said she would be a winter baby but she held on for two additional weeks, probably hoping we’d carry her home from the hospital in just a onesie, the warm sun reaching deep into her soul. But, just like adults experiencing the first winter in a new place, Elizabeth didn’t know that Mother Nature had no regard for the calendar. Instead, on March 27, a week after the calendar said it was spring, snow flurries were gently falling from the sky as we joyfully held our baby girl for the first time.

That winter was a particularly long, cold, and snowy one. Waiting for the baby was like waiting for a spring that would seemingly never arrive. The dark days of winter stretched endlessly as I listened to everyone tell me that my life would soon make a complete and total transformation. I would go from a professional, successful 25-year-old manager at a non-profit to a young (too young, some said), stay-at-home mother, with no experience taking care of someone who would depend on me for her every need. Was I really going to stay home? Did we have enough money? Enough space in our apartment? I had no answers.

As the plows worked to clear the streets, we worked to prepare ourselves as best we could. We took classes: childbirth, breastfeeding, infant/child CPR. We visited friends who had just had babies. We asked questions. We savored nights out alone, as everyone had told us they would soon become rare. But it seemed that no matter how busy I tried to be, the waiting and the anticipation was overwhelming. Would mid-March never arrive?

The due date came and went and the doctor’s appointments became weekly and then daily. We threw up our hands in defeat; an induction was scheduled. Elizabeth stubbornly arrived, probably wishing she could wait until April, if not May. Driving home from the hospital, snow was still piled along the street. The elation I felt in the hospital was starting to be replaced by fear. I was overwhelmed, tired, and afraid of doing this all on my own. It was supposed to be spring. Why did it feel like winter again?

Night and day were mashed into one sleepless blur until the calendar showed it was time for her first check- up. This time, the temperature in the car said 42 and there was a trickle of water flowing from beneath the snow piles. A few more weeks passed and after an Easter dinner at my aunt’s house, the sky was still bright at 6 p.m. as we drove home with a window cracked. Now that the baby could sleep in 5 hour stretches, I had the energy to take daily walks. On Mother’s Day, we walked through town without our jackets and stopped for an ice cream cone. The warm air on my bare arms felt like freedom.

Spring will come, even if it doesn’t match the day on the calendar. The first day your baby smiled is like the random day in February that it hits 50 degrees and your heart warms from the joy of it all. The first morning she let you sleep until 7 a.m. is like looking out the window and seeing that the green patches in your yard now outnumber the white ones. And the first time she grasped your finger, looked into your eyes, and cooed is the day you walked barefoot through the back yard.

There are moments of spring in every day. You just have to find them. Time passes, babies grow, and eventually, every winter turns to spring.

Facebook

Laura Stoll is completely addicted to Facebook, the social networking website used by fellow moms, her much younger cousins, old high school and college friends, and 132 million other people.

[This is a sneak-peek at Laura’s “wall,” the place on Facebook where she updates her current status, makes friends, receives messages, joins different groups, becomes a “fan” of things, and more.]

September 1
Laura Stoll has joined Facebook.

September 9
Laura is now friends with Becca, her 16-year-old cousin.
Becca wrote on Laura’s wall: “Hi Laura. I didn’t know they let people like you on FB.”
Laura wrote on Becca’s wall: “Hi Becca. Yes, they let old people on here too.”

September 23
Laura beat her own high score of 729,408 on the Facebook game Tetris Friends. She told the family she was making dinner during the 30 minutes it took her to reach this awesome goal. When the pizza delivery guy showed up, Laura avoided eye contact with her husband. Since he is a friend on Facebook, he will learn of her achievement the next time he logs on.

October 2
Laura is now friends with Heather, a friend of more than 25 years.
Heather wrote on Laura’s wall: “Hi Laura! It’s great to see you on Facebook. Did you know Joe & I got engaged?”

October 5
Laura regrets telling her mom that Heather got engaged. Heather’s mom wasn’t too happy to learn that Mrs. Stoll learned about the engagement on Facebook. Guess she was hoping to tell Mrs. Stoll the good news in person.

October 6
Laura gets an e-mail from her mom asking how she goes about signing up for “Spacebook.”

October 15
Laura became a fan of Bravo’s “Project Runway,” just in time for Halloween.

October 22
Laura has sent a relationship request to her husband, Ben Fehlner. If Ben accepts Laura’s relationship request, it will show on Laura’s wall that she and Ben are married.

October 23
Ben has not responded to Laura’s relationship request.

October 24
Ben has not responded to Laura’s relationship request.

October 25
Laura logged into Facebook as Ben and accepted her own relationship request.

October 26
Laura has updated her relationship status. She is now listed as married to Ben Fehlner.

November 7
Laura has received a friend request from Tammy, a girl from high school that once insulted Laura by wearing the same peach colored lacy gown to the homecoming dance.

November 10
After pondering her mother’s advice to let bygones be bygones, Laura has ignored Tammy Garbowitz’s friend request.

November 21
Laura took the quiz Are you really a New Jersey girl? with the result You can take the girl out of Jersey but you can’t take the Jersey out of the girl.

November 24
Laura is now friends with Brian, a childhood friend whom she hasn’t seen or heard from in 15 years.
Brian wrote on Laura’s wall: “Hi Laura! How are you? Long time, no see. I’m married and living in Florida with my wife and nine kids…”

December 7
Laura is now friends with Avery, her old college roommate.
Avery wrote on Laura’s wall: “OMG! So happy to see you! How’s life? LOL! We’re doing well. We had our master bathroom renovated over Thanksgiving…couldn’t deal with the construction so we skipped town…went to St. Barts. So glad we brought the nanny…the kids activities at the resort were so mundane…Grayson was totally bored with their pathetic excuse for arts and crafts. I’ll have to post some pics. Anyway, how are you? Still living in that little house???”

December 12
Laura was supposed to be mopping the kitchen floor in anticipation of dinner with her in-laws. Instead, she wasted more than 2 hours on Facebook looking at her friends’ walls. She should have done the mopping; when she finally pulled herself away from the laptop, she felt like she had overindulged.

December 20
Heather wrote on Laura’s wall: “Laura – just wanted you to know that Joe and I set a wedding date – August 1.”
Laura decides to keep her mouth shut this time and let her mom hear the wedding details through the regular channels.

January 2
Laura became a fan of Cadbury Mini Eggs. Bring on the Easter candy!
Laura’s friend Kelley also became a fan of Cadbury Mini Eggs. Who knew that the love of one delicious candy could bring friends together?

January 4
Laura has posted a link: http://www.mvparentonline.com/. “Read my latest article on MV Parent!”

January 11
Laura has updated her status: Laura is trying to think of an idea for this month’s MV Parent column. Hmm…Facebook?

January 14
Laura has joined the group I’m not Addicted to Facebook; I Just Have to Check it Every Fifteen Minutes.

Freedom of Speech

One of the hazards of being a parent is that invisible sign we all wear that apparently says “Advice Needed and Welcomed.” As soon as the baby bump begins to show, family, friends, and complete strangers feel compelled to give you all kinds of advice about parenting. You may be lucky enough to hear someone’s horrific childbirth tale or about the time their sister-in-law’s cousin’s ultrasound went terribly wrong. There’s something about being pregnant that makes people want to talk.

Once the baby is born, there’s nothing like pushing a stroller around town to encourage strangers to impart their unsolicited wisdom:
“You’re feeding him a bottle? You know they say breastfeeding is best.”
“When my little Timmy was a baby, we didn’t have to use those annoying car seats. Why don’t you just hold him right there on your lap in the car?”
“Oh dear! What happened to her little mittens? It’s freezing out here!”

The worst part about receiving this advice is that most times you have to be polite and accepting, even though you might feel insulted. How can you snap back at that kindly 80-year-old grandma? (Even though you actually did remember the mittens, but you think the dog grabbed them when you were taking out the garbage and the baby was screaming and you were late to preschool pick up.)

The insomnia and exhaustion that new parents suffer can quickly transform one of these seemingly innocuous moments into something sour. One day, I braved a short walk to our neighborhood gift shop with a six-week-old Elizabeth in her stroller. Of course, as soon as we got there, she was audibly making a messy diaper, and I quickly headed toward the exit. On my way, I was stopped by a well-intentioned stranger who said, “What a beautiful baby. Oh, and such funny noises she’s making! How in the world is she doing that?”
"She’s…uh…she’s…er… pooping,” I replied, a little too loudly, anxiously looking at the door.
"Oh my heavens!” squealed the woman, and, covering her mouth and nose, quickly backed away.

I wish I had the nerve to talk to strangers in such a direct and open way. If something is bothering me, shouldn’t I just say it? Why does anyone need the insomnia excuse? We all know people who don’t hesitate to say exactly what they are thinking. While sometimes being around those people is intolerable, don’t you sometimes wish you could be more like them?
One time I was at the playground talking with a woman whose children had beautiful and unique names. We began to talk about how we chose our children’s names, and she told me she had considered naming her daughter Elizabeth, “but that name is just too common.”

I was taken aback by her comment and really didn’t know how to respond. Fuming on the way home in the car, I thought of a dozen witty comebacks that I’d never get a chance to use.
“Yes, that name is very common. In fact, we're naming all our kids Elizabeth. We're raising an army to stamp out rudeness.”
“Speaking of common, why is it some people have no common sense when it comes to polite conversation?”

Of course, there are other ways to tell a stranger exactly what you think. On a street near ours, there is a handmade cardboard sign tacked to a telephone pole that says, “Dunkin Donuts Cup Thrower – you are a MORON.”

I love that sign. Sometimes I drive home from the grocery store the back way just so I can take a look at it. Obviously someone was annoyed enough with the litter on their street to do something about it, and whether they meant to or not, they used a bit of humor in doing so.

Come to think of it, putting up a sign is a great idea. It gets the point across while still maintaining one’s anonymity. Next time I’m at the playground, I’m going to put up my own sign:
Lady who thought my kid’s name is too common – you are a MORON!

The Perfect Gift

Before I start this month’s column, I would like to update my readers on recent happenings at our house.

First, to all of the Project Costume readers, I want you to know that my husband Ben and I handmade two Halloween costumes this year with virtually no tears and only one argument. I used the Singer to sew a very simple Harry Potter cape for Elizabeth, which was made of only 2 pieces of felt. My mother, who is a certified home economics teacher, said that although I had chosen an easy pattern, my sewing was very well done and she thanked me for not calling her multiple times with questions. Our son Henry wanted to be Wall-E this year and my husband gets all the credit for transforming a cardboard box into Wall-E with amazing accuracy. (Please don’t tell Disney.) Both kids were thrilled with their costumes.

Second, to everyone who read Re-Elect Mom, I am happy to report that Elizabeth and Henry reelected Ben and me to the jobs of mom and dad. I was worried that they, like many other Americans, would vote for change this year, but they kept with the old guard and we couldn’t be happier. Look for our State of the Union address early next year.

Now that it’s December, I really want to give my readers the perfect holiday gift: a story that’s uplifting and funny and familiar and touching. But as anyone who has ever done any holiday shopping knows, the perfect gift is hard to find.

For example, think about shopping for your spouse. He really needs some new shirts and ties for work but he’s also been complaining that his MP3 player is slow and out of date. Both gifts will cost you a bit of money and you’re hesitant to do both. Which do you choose? Or maybe your wife loves to cook. Would a new state-of-the-art food processor be exciting to her or just a reminder that it’s her daily chore to make dinner? Or should you spoil her with a piece of jewelry she’s been admiring?

Retailers are quick to remind you that you don’t have to choose. Get them both! With holiday sales starting just after Halloween, you should be able to find any number of gifts at low prices. But you want just one. Just one perfect gift that will make him or her remember the holidays all year long.

And that’s what I wanted to give for you this month: the perfect holiday article. But the retailers who sell inspiration to writers also started their sales soon after Halloween and I bought too many ideas. I have seven typed pages of half-finished columns. I started a parody of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” that I thought you would like. St. Nicholas turns out to be my mom coming to help me through my holiday stress! I have a list of the top 5 free or inexpensive gifts your kids didn’t even know they wanted: a cardboard box, a pile of snow, a make-believe game of Air Guitar Hero, etc. And I even wrote a letter to Santa asking for some children’s toys that I still secretly want: dress up clothes, a bicycle, and an Easy Bake Oven. But none of those ideas seemed perfect enough for you.

So the best I can do are a few almost-perfect sentences that I hope you will accept as my gift.

This December, take a moment to absorb the small details that make it such a special time of year. When you or your spouse carries the Christmas tree inside for the first time, stop and smell the cold air coming off the pine needles. When your kids have finished ripping open their gifts and sit in the living room in a daze, look into their eyes and remember what it felt like for you many years ago. If you make your favorite cookies, forget about how many calories are in them and take one and eat it slowly, savoring every morsel of butter or sugar or chocolate inside. If you hear a favorite holiday song on the radio or at church or at your kids’ school, sing along. And when the holidays are over, save some of that cheer to last the whole year.

And what perfect gift am I asking you to get me this year? Just keep reading my stories.

Re-Elect Mom!

Being a parent is a job you choose to take, but what if keeping that job depended on being re-elected by your children every four years? An election year might sound like this…

Children, I am speaking to you today to ask you to re-elect me as your mother. I have the experience that this family needs to grow and prosper for the next four years, and I know what it’s like for you, Joe Juice Box, a child of the 21st century.

I know from our conversations around the kitchen table that the state of our economy is at the forefront of your minds. That is why I am proposing a radical 300 penny bailout plan aimed at revitalizing your piggy bank. For too long, you have watched the CEO’s of your family bring home fat paychecks and live the good life. In order to restore faith in our economy, I will inject 300 pennies into each of your piggy banks. You may choose to spend them or save them; either way, I feel that this cash injection into our economy will boost economic confidence.

Healthcare is obviously a top priority in our lives. I know how hard you work at the arena and on the soccer field. As your hockey mom and your soccer mom, there’s nothing I can do to stop the pain of your flu shot or the embarrassing way Dr. Pediatrician discusses your impending adolescence. However, I do think I can help prevent future trips to the doctor. I vow to install Purell dispensers throughout the house, restock the medicine cabinet with Tylenol that’s not out of date, buy new batteries for the digital ear thermometer, and check Target for those SpongeBob band aids you’ve been asking for. In return, I ask that you tell us when your best friend comes down with the stomach bug and that you give us a brief warning before vomiting all over your sheets.

When it comes to the environment, I propose the most comprehensive climate change bill that this family has ever seen. For the past four years, we have kept the thermostat at a mere 65 degrees all day and night. This year, I propose lowering the nighttime temperature to 63 degrees and raising the daytime temperature to 70. I will also provide vouchers for a blanket and a pair of slippers for everyone in the household.

I would now like to introduce you to a man I have chosen to help me lead this family, my vice presidential selection, Dad. Dad has served this family since its inception and he has the experience and the leadership that we need. And Dad is not afraid to fight the terrorism that happens right in our front yard. On that fateful day when our house was rocked by the incessant ringing of the doorbell, it was Dad who flung the door wide and chased down the middle school boys who rang and ran. Yes, Dad has the bravery and leadership to keep this family safe from whatever neighborhood bullies lurk in our hedges.

Whether your bedroom is red or blue, Dad and I are mavericks that can bring you the change you are looking for. And Dad and I have the audacity of hope to believe that this family can be the strongest, the greatest, and the most powerful family on the face of the earth.

Project Costume

In the world of Halloween costumes, either you're in or you're out.

In this episode of America’s favorite fashioned-themed reality show, three sets of parents are challenged to come up with the best Halloween costume they can for their child. They have just 31 days to do it and a budget of only $30. Let’s meet our contestants.

Allison and Adam’s 7-year-old son Zachary loves superheroes. He’s a fan of Spiderman, Batman, and Captain America, but this year he’s told his parents that he wants to be the man of steel: Superman. With two full-time jobs between them, how will this couple find time to make their son’s Halloween dream come true?

Gina and Tom are not surprised that their 2-year-old son Ryan wants to be a firefighter this year. He has been obsessed with fire trucks for the past six months, and they’ve already got a helmet that Ryan wears for dress up.

Laura and Ben are the parents of an adorable princess-loving 4-year-old named Elizabeth who wants nothing more than to be Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. Authenticity is the key when it comes to this costume. The dress must be an exact replica of the one in the movie, right down to the color she describes as “a big dip of ruby.”

Two weeks into the competition, and Allison and Adam are spotted at Target in the costume aisle. Zachary has happily pointed out the Superman costume, which includes a one-piece outfit with enhanced muscles, a cape, a mask, and boots. The price tag says $24.99 so they throw in a plastic pumpkin for collecting treats and head to the check out.

Back at home, Gina and Tom rifle through Ryan’s closet and pull out his yellow raincoat, his dress-up firefighter helmet, and his rain boots. After they try the outfit on him, Ryan decides that he really is a firefighter and proceeds to wear the outfit all day, every day. The $30 still sits in Gina’s wallet. She’s considering rewarding herself with a bag of mini Milky Ways, which she will hide in that corner kitchen cabinet where no one ever looks.

Laura and Ben have decided that the only way they are going to give a dime to the Disney corporation would be through buying a pattern and sewing the Sleeping Beauty costume themselves. Luckily Disney has marketed their own line of patterns and if they are able to find fabric the color of “a big dip of ruby,” they can make their little girl happy.

Laura and Ben both grew up with mothers who could sew any costume they desired and with the aid of a handed-down Singer, they figure they can pull this off. Never mind the fact that the most complicated thing they’ve ever done with the sewing machine was to hem a pair of pants. But, they happily remember that they’ve signed up for unlimited long distance calling and help is really just a phone call away. The cashier informs them that the fabric, the pattern, and the notions total $26 and they head home.

It’s now a week before Halloween and Zachary has safely hidden his Superman costume in his closet. He’s worried that taking it out of the plastic package might cause it to be stained or wrinkled. Ryan is still happily pretending to be a firefighter. Laura and Ben are up until midnight every night cursing at the Singer. They’ve managed to pin the pattern to the fabric, cut out the necessary pieces, and even sew the skirt together. Now, something called the “peplum,” which seems to be a princess word for a belt, is giving them trouble. Phone calls are placed, the webcam is set up, and although they are completely frustrated, they have to admit that slowly things are beginning to come together.

The night before Halloween, Zachary carefully unsnaps the plastic bag that contains his costume and lays it out on his bed. He admires the mask and cape, wonders if the blue tights will make him look like a girl, and then decides that the chest muscles will far outweigh the bottom of the costume.

Ryan announces that he’s tired of firefighters and would actually like to be Bob the Builder for Halloween. Gina and Tom try not to panic, go back to the closet, and manage to pull out overalls, a plaid shirt, work boots, and a construction helmet from the dress-up box. Ryan happily tries on the costume and Gina sighs with relief, knowing that spending the money on the Milky Ways was a good choice.

Meanwhile, Laura has noticeably more gray hairs and Ben hasn’t slept in days. Their mothers are getting annoyed by their constant phone calls and begin to put caller id to good use. After Laura breaks down in tears on the phone with a friend, therapy is kindly suggested. But the costume is nearly finished and Elizabeth excitedly dances to the spinning and whirring of the sewing machine.

It’s Halloween, the day of the big runway show, and the children put on their costumes as their parents make last-minute adjustments. Zachary is strong and confident in his costume and Allison and Adam know that with their busy schedule, a trip to Target was the perfect idea for their family. Ryan looks adorable as Bob the Builder and Gina and Tom are glad that their dress-up box contained so many possibilities. Elizabeth twirls and curtsies in front of the mirror, proud of how much she looks like the real Sleeping Beauty.

Meanwhile, Ben is sound asleep, having finished the costume at 3:00 a.m. and Laura is furiously counting the change from the fabric store to see if there’s enough for her own bag of Milky Ways. She’s got to find something to give her enough energy to walk through the neighborhood all evening.

And here, another entertaining episode has come to an end. It just goes to show that you don’t need to be America’s next top designer to make your kids look presentable on Halloween.
Auf wiedersehen, readers, and best wishes for a happy and safe Halloween.

The Clinton Cider Mill: A Fun Experience Right Around the Corner

Seven year-old Elizabeth and her little brother Henry, age 4, consider themselves two of the luckiest children in Clinton. Their grandparents, John and Mimi Fehlner, own and operate the Clinton Cider Mill. For Elizabeth and Henry, this means a cold apple cider slush and popcorn after school, a Sunday morning on the porch eating hot donuts with friends and neighbors, proudly giving friends a behind-the-scenes tour, watching their Pop press the cider, and much more.

John and Mimi Fehlner began operating the Cider Mill in 1998, when the building was for
sale and in danger of becoming a parking lot. Since then, they have grown the business into a
thriving country market, with people traveling from all over to taste their unique and home
grown products with fresh non-pasteurized apple cider as the centerpiece.

Clinton Cider Mill cider is made from New York State apples on an 81-year old hydraulic press, which occupies much of the Cider Mill building. While technology has increased by leaps and bounds, the cider making process has remained the same since the Wentworth family began making cider in Clinton over 100 years ago. After being washed, the apples are brought up an elevator to a grinder where the whole apple is ground into pulp. The pulp is then spread on special wooden trays. Stacks of apple pulp, cloth, and racks are called a cheese. The cheese is pressed as pure apple cider flows down and is captured in the pipes below and pumped to the final strainer. The strainer removes any fine particles of apples and sends the cider to the holding tank. Cider is then pumped to the refrigerated tanks and is ready for customers.

During weekends in October, visitors are welcome to watch the cider being pressed. Adults and children alike are mesmerized by the machinery and often spend an hour or two listening to the flapping of the belts, the grinding of the apples, and the hum of the elevator. The staff is always available to answer questions. In addition to jugs of cider, a favorite treat of the Fehlner grandchildren is the cold cider slush. If you’re feeling chilled, you can also get a cup of hot cider.
Another popular item at the Cider Mill are the fresh, hot cider donuts made from the Mill’s own cider. Come at lunch time and get a cup of hot soup. The bakery also features cookies and at least ten varieties of pies, all of which are baked on-site. Special orders are taken for Thanksgiving pies. New York State apples, local maple and honey products, jams, salsas, baking mixes, apple accessories and more are also for sale.

If you are looking for a fun family activity this fall, be sure to bring everyone to the Clinton Cider Mill. If you visit on the weekend, you can purchase a cup of soup, a donut, and cup of cider and watch the cider being pressed. Join the crowd on the porch and enjoy the crisp fall air. You’re sure to see familiar faces, meet people from all across the country, and there’s a pretty good chance you’ll also see Elizabeth and Henry Fehlner.

The Clinton Cider Mill is located at 28 Elm Street in the Village of Clinton. They are open daily from Labor Day through Thanksgiving. Hours are Mon. – Sat. 10-6 and Sun. 10-5. For more information, call 853-5756.

Cider Facts
-There are about 100-125 apples in a bushel.
-One bushel makes 4 gallons of cider.
-Our fresh, sweet cider has no additives and should last about 10 days if kept cold in your
refrigerator.
-It takes almost six years to turn sweet cider into cider vinegar naturally.