My family has begun a fantastic tradition of after-school meetings. When the kids get home, we all meet at the kitchen island to have a snack, and discuss the day’s events before heading off to do homework or chores. As the kids have gotten older, the need to prepare them to cope with social stress has become more of a pressing issue. It always amazes me how early this pettiness invades a childhood these days-maybe I am just getting old. I gently revise conversations that seem “gossipy” with directed questions to bring them back to a less “catty” but related topic. I also try very hard to surround myself with people who do the same for their children. I avoid drama where I can and try to let it go when it cannot be avoided. There is much to be said for not taking the bait! I try very hard to model genuine caring, compassion and a gentle nature for my kids. I don’t always succeed, but it seems very important that my kids learn to let go of small stresses like being angry at someone for cutting you off in the car. I remind myself out loud, to let it go, they must be in a very big hurry, and that I really hope they are okay.
A while back, during one of these kitchen meetings while having tea and cake, my son asked me if he could skip trick-or-treating this year. I furled my brows and cocked my head in a questioning pose as I probed the situation further. He responded in a way he rarely does...he retreated and walked away sullenly. I followed him as my mind rivaled a circus acrobat performing a complex series of flip-flops trying to account for this new behavior. Two hours later, I had dragged out of him that he had ripped his costume and his friends were going to make fun of him if he went in a ripped costume. I pulled it from his shelf and saw that it was in disrepair, truly a loss. “No problem” I gloated “We have a Halloween tote full of old costumes, we can just choose another.” Once again, I was met with sullen silence paired this time with two sky blue daggers piercing my mind that for some reason, was just not understanding. “Forget it” he announced, “I am probably too old to go anyway.” Before he retired his little nine-year old body to a life void of brightly wrapped chocolate treats, I coaxed him back to the kitchen. For me, the kitchen is like a neutral ground full of inviting smells and endless possibilities. Plus, even if you fail there, chances are, the mistake will be delicious. As we munched on Great Grandma’s pineapple upside down cake, it occurred to me that I was looking at the wrong side of the problem! The costume wasn’t the real issue.
My children know that if I start to tell them a story, that it has a meaning that they will be quizzed on after the story. (Needless to say, my stories are often met with belabored sighs and winces displaying that knowledge.) And so it was, that I opened my mouth and before I could utter a word, he collapsed into self-defeat. So I stopped and thought. No, I scrambled for a different approach. This time, I did not tell a story. Instead, I asked questions. Lots of questions! Through his answers, he displayed his understanding of the difference between playful banter and belittling, and came to the conclusion that his friends may not be true friends if they would hurt his feelings purposely. It was the first time I think he discovered the answer to his own problem. (Albeit with a little guided moderation.) So he and I both learned something that day, and as we shared the last piece of pineapple upside down cake, it was more satisfying. I felt slightly superhero-ish, but like most superheroes, my glory was a private celebration. One which came after seeing the look of new-found direction and confidence that my son will always believe he created alone.
I have already shared the recipe below, but I am posting it again, because it is just that good!
Great Grandma Z’s “Flip your perspective” pineapple upside down cake.
3 eggs
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
1 can crushed pineapple, drained
Beat eggs with hand blender until yellow froth appears. Add sugar slowly to form soft peaks. Sift flour and fold into batter until completely blended in. Spray the sides of a 9x9 baking pan with baking spray or grease and flour. Spread crushed pineapple across bottom of pan and pour batter directly on top. Bake for about 45 mins at 375. Top should look firm and slightly browned. Remove and cool, flip onto serving plate, you can use a cold wet towel on the bottom of the pan to coax the pineapple to loosen. Lift the pan, cut and serve. This cake should be eaten within a day or two of cooking or it will get mushy. J Enjoy!
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