Dinner Guest #43 - The C. Family

Sunday, November 4, 2012

It took several years, but I finally accepted that I will not have any more children.  I will never be pregnant again, wake up in the middle of the night to give a newborn baby a bottle, or change my child’s diaper.  However, I often find myself joking with friends,

“If someone handed me a baby, I’d take it in a second.”

From time to time, I meet small children who have a similar look to mine:  blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, and I think,

“Oh, I’ll take him.”

That’s how I feel about Hayden.  He’s an adorably cute boy in Rock’s primary class who looks like he could easily fit into our family.  He and Rock even act very similar.  They both like to make scary faces by pulling down on their cheeks and exposing the red interior of their lower eye lids. 

This Sunday we had Mr. and Mrs. C. and their three sons, Dane, Cade, and Hayden to dinner.  We have attended the same church as the C. family for several years.  Our children are similar ages and go to the same elementary school.  This past baseball season, we have run into the C. Family at the local little league fields on many Saturdays. 

For dinner I served Swiss Chicken, mashed potatoes mixed with Boursin herb cheese, sweet potato casserole, roasted green beans, and grapes.  For dessert, we ate pumpkin pie.

Before the C. family arrived, I made sure that we had plenty of “boy” toys set out to play with.  I knew a family of boys would not be digging into the princess dress-up chest.    After dinner the kids played with our five-lane matchbox car racetrack and chased each other around the house.  Ryan enthusiastically talked Las Vegas mobster books with Mr. C.  The low point of the evening occurred when Jack slipped and smashed his lip and teeth into the hard tile floor.  Screaming and bleeding, I had to whisk him into my bedroom, shut the door, and calm him down.

I’m pretty sure the C. family is not going to let me keep Hayden.  I didn’t dare ask such a ridiculous question.  He obviously went home with his family at the end of the night.  And the truth is, I am comfortably overwhelmed with my own three children.  My primary goal these days is to do the best I can with the ones I got.   Maybe someday, I’ll get to hold my newborn

GRANDCHILDREN!

Dinner Guest #42 - Mr. and Mrs. G.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

When I meet parents of teenagers, I often find myself thinking,

“That’s me in 10 years.”

Our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. G., sent their son Neil off to college this past fall.  Their daughter Sara is 17 and will follow the same path in a few years.  Mr. and Mrs. G. are close to becoming empty-nesters.

This Sunday, Mr. and Mrs. G. came to dinner.  I served “Swiss Chicken,” a casserole-type dish made of boneless chicken breasts, swiss cheese, and cream of chicken soup, topped with stuffing.  In addition, I made a broccoli and mushroom salad, sweet potato casserole, and corn pudding from recipes I found in the Real Simple magazine my husband brought home from his office.  Mrs. G. brought grapes for the kids.  For dessert, I served pumpkin pie.

Outside of a casual “hello” at church, we rarely see Mr. and Mrs. G.  However it’s comforting to know we have friends just a few houses away.  I would have no problem asking Mr. and Mrs. G. for help if I needed it.  A few times, Mrs. G. looked at our kids and said,

“It goes by so fast.”

I’m sure she is right. 

However, it’s hard to grasp that my beautiful, energetic children who fall to the floor in cries and moans when I ask them to brush their teeth and scream when I trim their toenails, these same angel-demons who I look at and say under my breath,

“TEN more years, and you are out of here!!!”

will really be gone someday. 

And then, as Mr. and Mrs. G. have warned, I will walk by their empty bedrooms and cry because I miss them.  I appreciate friends like Mr. and Mrs. G. who remind me to enjoy this precious time with my children.  They help me to remember author Gretchen Rubin’s wise saying on parenting,

“The days are long, but the years are short.”

Dinner Guest #41 - The Uncles

Sunday, October 12, 2012

Marrying into a family of all boys took some getting used to--especially coming from a family of mostly girls.  Growing up in the Potter Home, no one EVER joked, referred to, or dare uttered the word penis at the dinner table.  After marrying Ryan, for many years, it seemed that we couldn’t have a Peterson family dinner without some reference to the male appendage.

This past weekend, my husband had the chance to spend a “boys weekend” with his three brothers.  They ate, watched movies, ate some more, watched college football, and laid out on their parents’ brown sectional like teenage boys.

On Sunday, the Uncles came to dinner:  Uncle Devo, Uncle Steve and Uncle Brad.  I got to experience a glimpse of the joy of cooking for hungry men.  No one counts calories, claims to be a vegetarian, or eats like a bird.  Everything gets eaten.

I cooked a Chicken Alfredo bow-tie pasta sprinkled with crisp bacon, spinach salad, sweet potato casserole, grapes, roasted green beans, and blueberry pie.  In turn, the Uncles brought me a box of pure Heaven:  one pound of See’s Nuts & Chews.  I knew once the box was opened, that I would not rest until they were finished, so I gladly shared my favorite chocolates with everyone before they made permanent residence on my thighs. 

My favorite part of the dinner was watching my children play with their Uncles.  Usually, the Uncles come accompanied with so many cousins that my kids could care less about adults.  However, in the absence of other children, Jack and Rock climbed in their Uncles' laps, played with their iPhones, and tossed balls back and forth.  Kate walked around with my camera and took pictures of everyone.

Shortly after dinner, the 2012 boys weekend ended.  Uncle Devo had to start his road trip back home to Utah.  Uncle Brad and Uncle Steve were headed to the airport to return to their families in Arizona.  After 13 years of marriage, the family dinner conversation with the Uncles has changed.  These are now married, working men with homes and bills and families they must provide for.  I can’t remember all the table topics, but this I know for sure:

No one mentioned the “P” word.

Dinner Guest #40 - The A. Family

Sunday, October 14, 2012

My husband does not look back at his high school years with fondness. It’s an unhappy phase of his life he’d rather forget.  So, when the invitation to his 20-year high school reunion came around last spring, I was surprised that he paid the $90 fee, submitted his paragraph-sized biography to the committee, and read a few books on mingling.  He may have fumbled his way through high school, but for the reunion, he was going prepared.

My role at the reunion was simple:  the dutiful wife.  I dolled myself up, sat next to Ryan in a hotel ballroom full of strangers, ate my chicken dinner, and smiled.  While I don’t think Ryan’s attendance at the reunion brought Hollywood-like closure to his unhappy memories, there was one positive outcome from the night:  the rekindling of an old friendship with Mr. A.

Ryan and Mr. A. grew up in adjacent neighborhoods in Las Vegas.  They participated in the same boy scout troop and attended the same schools and church.  Their parents were good friends.  After high school, their paths rarely crossed as marriage, jobs, and interests sent them other directions.

This Sunday, we had Mr. and Mrs. A. and their three children over for dinner.  I kept the dinner very light and simple with make-your-own croissant sandwiches.  I put out platters of turkey, ham, and roast beef deli meat, a variety of cheeses, sandwich toppings, condiments, and let everyone build their own.  I also threw together a few side dishes of pasta salad, kale salad, grapes, carrots, and potato chips.  For dessert, Mr. A. made a delicious apple and cherry cobbler that baked and bubbled in the oven while we ate.   We learned that Mr. A. is the chef in the family, and a good one too.

I’ll be surprised if Ryan attends another high school reunion.  I think his curiosity has been satisfied.  However, I hope we continue to get together with the A. Family.  Our children seemed to enjoy playing together and Mr. A. has promised to make crepes for us—a little skill he picked up while living in France many years ago.

After 40 dinner guests, if nothing else, I’ve learned:

NEVER turn down a dinner invitation with friends.

Dinner Guest #39 - The V. Family

Sunday, October 7, 2012

From 2001 to 2005, we lived in Fullerton, California while Ryan attended graduate school at the Southern California College of Optometry.  During that time, we met many other couples leading similar, grueling, graduate school lives where money is tight, spouses stay up all night studying, and many weekends are spent quarantined in the school library.

A few years ago, Ryan decided to reconnect with a classmate from Optometry school.  A classmate who had also returned to Las Vegas after graduation.  One I had never met:  Mr. V. 

On a warm summer night, we met up with Mr. V., his wife, and their two boys at a park not far from our homes.  Surprisingly, our children were similar ages and seemed to enjoy playing together.  Mr. and Mrs. V. were easy to talk to.  What I worried was going to be an uncomfortable, awkward evening with strangers turned out to be fun. 

This Sunday, the V. family came to dinner.

I served grilled hamburgers, corn pudding, baked potato skins, carrots and dip, and Doritos.  The V. family brought a fruit plate.  For dessert, I served seven-layer bars and lemon bars.

I like talking to Mrs. V.  She is an experienced, intelligent, elementary school teacher who has great insights into the world of public education.  I admire how she juggles work and family, and still manages to take good care of herself at the same time—mainly because I haven’t quite figured out this juggling act myself.

Recounting my introduction to the V. family reminds me to lower my aversion to meeting strangers.  

Good friends often come from unexpected places.

Dinner Guest #38 - All the Grandparents

Sunday, September 29, 2012

On our wedding date, August 14, 1999, the official merging of the Potter and Peterson families looked something like this:

One brother-in-law spent the evening in a hospital emergency room passing a kidney stone.

One sister dropped to the floor with cramping pains and ceased to act as the wedding photographer.

Another brother passed out condoms to guests waiting in line to congratulate the bride and groom.

One niece hid behind the wedding cake, picking off the candied pearls from each layer.

Things could have gone better. 

However, thirteen years later, wedding day drama has long been forgotten by everyone (except me) and we enjoying bringing both families together.  This Sunday, our dinner guests were our parents—all four grandparents.

For dinner I served barbecue pork sandwiches topped with coleslaw, sweet potato casserole, potato chips and grapes.  Coincidentally, the day before, Grandmother Peterson coordinated the food for two funerals at her church.  So, we also ate leftover funeral potatoes and platters of fresh fruit.  For dessert, I served blueberry cream pie and lime bars.

I regret not taking a group picture.  Such gatherings with all four grandparents are few and far between.  I feel lucky to have these four people in my life and in the lives of my children. 

And tonight, thankfully, no one dropped to the floor.

Everyone was on their best behavior.

Dinner Guest #37 - The S. Family

Sunday, September 23, 2012

I live 2,450 miles from the town where I spent my first 18 years of life.  So as you might expect, I NEVER run into an old classmate at the grocery store, library, community center, or the movies.  While I wouldn’t be surprised if residents of Potomac, Maryland visit the Las Vegas strip regularly, I seem to be the only one who moved here.

With a population of slightly over two million people, Las Vegas is no small town.  However, my husband, a rare Las Vegas “native,” is constantly running into old classmates and friends.

This Sunday was no exception.

The coincidences were almost unbelievable.

I met Mrs. S. one year ago on the elementary school playground and learned that we attended the same church.  With children of similar ages, we quickly fell into play dates at the park, play dates at our homes, and swimming dates during the summer time.  All of our meet ups occurred during the day time while our busy husbands were at work.  They never met. 

Or so we thought…

I was very excited to have the S. Family over for Sunday dinner and completely unexcited about cooking.  I walked through the isles at Costco trying to concoct a simple meal that would still look and taste somewhat homemade.  I settled on a make-your-own sandwich bar of croissants, assorted deli meats, cheeses, lettuce, tomato, and onion.  I found enough energy to whip up a respectable homemade pasta salad and put out bowls of potato chips, carrots and dip, and grapes.  Mrs. S. brought a fruit salad and for dessert, I served lemon bars and chocolate chip cookies.

As expected, the kids grazed over their plates, eating more potato chips and bread than veggies and fruit, and quickly ran off to play.  The adults chatted at the kitchen table where we learned that Mr. S. and Ryan attended three of the same schools in Las Vegas.  Ryan cracked out the yearbooks from Booker Elementary School, Garside Junior High, and Bonanza High School and gave us all a good laugh at pictures of their younger selves.  Neither Mr. S. nor Ryan remembered anything about each other although, they both could honestly say,

“You have a familiar face…”

The night got late, bedtimes were long past, and we parents had to work at ending the girls’ intricate game of house, school, Pet Shops, and Barbies.  It’s nice when friends don’t want to leave.  It’s an odd, comforting compliment.

I hope these new “old friends” will come back again.