The Psychology Behind Organization

In our lives, we go through many different transitions. I think I resist these natural transitions, even as I welcome them. Sometimes I feel like I am rebelling against or ignoring these changes in my life. However, most of the time, I don’t notice this attitude in myself. When I started organizing again, I found many items that proved that I silently protest the transitions in my life- and it might be the reason why I hold onto excess “stuff”. Are the teaching materials still in the study to remind myself that I had a life before I had a baby? Are there still infant products in my daughter’s room because I am protesting that she is growing up so fast? Or perhaps I am protesting the miscarriage I suffered… mourning the loss of the baby that will never come. I also have clothes in the closet that don’t fit me anymore. I originally thought seeing those clothes everyday was a positive- these are the clothes that I will fit into when I lose weight. But now I see it as a negative—these are the clothes I am too big to fit into. Am I protesting the weight that I gained?

My grandma died of cancer years ago. Scattered throughout my house I have mementos from her- cards she sent me, gifts she gave me. Some of these things mean nothing to me, other than the fact that they were gifts from her. Still I cling to these items as if I am trying to prove that she existed.

My mother is also a teacher and coach. She’s a good mother and a wonderful teacher (and grandma). She gave exhaustive amounts of time to her students through the years. As I grew up, she tried very hard not to baby me or give me too much “special attention” as she had many students to take care of. She was also a fan of the whole “don’t make waves” quote. She loved me and took care of my needs, but there was something lacking. Maybe it was empathy- she cared more about what the neighbors thought than what I thought. Instead of validating my feelings, she played Devil’s Advocate every time you told her something unfair, no matter how ridiculous it was. It did wonders for my self esteem for my mother to be harsh about my behavior, but to easily excuse other people’s behavior. All I wanted was for my mother to acknowledge my feelings, to understand me, to tell me she was proud of me. We had a strange relationship. We got along best when I didn’t tell her anything too personal. When I graduated from high school, when I was in college, and even after I graduated and was married… my mom finally felt compelled to tell me how she felt about me. At least in her own way- she bought me numerous mushy “Daughter” quote books, children’s books about mothers who love their children, wall decorations about how important I am to her. The excess of receiving all of it within 10 years seems insincere, yet I kept them. But these items are not the same as hearing it from her, so I can let go now.

As I learn to let go, organizing is getting easier- is that the secret of organizing? When I get rid of the excess stuff, I am making peace with the past and I am accepting the present so I can be more realistic about the future.

Broasted Chicken

My husband and I recently learned what the word "broast" means. The spell checker doesn’t even recognize the word, so I guess we’re not the only ones (it keeps wanting to replace the word with roast, boast, or breast!) Anyway, we were out with friends at a restaurant I never went to before. I wasn't sure what I wanted, so I ordered the broasted chicken. We all figured that it was a form of roasting the chicken since it is close to that word (or a cross between broiling and roasting). Nobody at my table knew that broasting chicken meant deep-fat frying until that surprising moment when the most fried chicken I’ve ever seen appeared at our table. I haven't eaten fried chicken for years, but the waitress disappeared and I was hungry. It didn’t even taste like chicken- it just tasted like grease and my body doesn't handle fried foods well either. The waitress seemed surprised that I didn’t know that the chicken was fried- worse than fried. She explained that the chicken was fried, breaded and then deep-fried. Shouldn’t a restaurant specifically write on the menu that an entrée is deep-fried? Definition of deep-fry: Cook in hot fat that’s deep enough to float the food. (Yuck!)
Don’t get me wrong. I know several ways of cooking chicken besides frying/deep frying/ deep fat frying, such as: bake, boil, broil, roast/oven roast, sauté, stir fry, poach, steam, simmer, grill, and microwave. I have a cookbook at home with a glossary of cooking terms that also include: sear, panfry, and stew. Broast was not in this glossary. None of my cookbooks have the word broast in them and it's not in my old Webster’s Dictionary either.
So, I googled it. It turns out that "broast" is not a real word. It's a product (like using the word Kleenex instead of tissue). Broasting a chicken means using a product called a broaster to pressure cook and deep fry chicken that has been marinated and breaded. The broaster and the seasonings are only sold to restaurants, supermarkets, and other "food trade", so broasted chicken is only available to you when you dine out. So why would a waitress expect all her diners to know what the process of broasting is? The most interesting part of this story is that the restaurant incorrectly used the word "broasting" in the first place. While researching what broasting means, I found a list of all the places that use broasters on the official broaster.com website. I noticed that the restaurant wasn’t listed there. Since broasting chicken means you are actually using a broaster (and they aren't), then they aren't actually broasting the chicken. They are just breading and deep frying it. So, it looks like the restaurant doesn't know what broasting is either.

The Taboo of Eating Healthy

     Is it just me or is eating healthy uncool, yet being on a diet is totally acceptable?  Over the past five years, my husband and I have cut fried foods and soda out of our diets and we avoid eating highly processed foods.  This was extremely hard to do, but it was worth the effort.  I have more energy, better concentration, and my body feels better overall.  I commend anyone who makes these life choices.  However, I avoid this subject with most people, because they act like we are depriving ourselves. "You don't let yourselves eat ______?"  I often find that it's easier just to say that I'm on a diet.  People quickly nod and say they understand.  

     This judgmental behavior happens more often than you would think.  People talk about taking their children to McDonald's (or equivalent fast food joint) and I keep silent.  I pretend that I'm just "one of the moms", but in reality I've only taken my daughter there 3 times since she was born (only twice did we get food). The only reason we went was because twice we were meeting friends & playing on the indoor playground and once we attended a birthday party held there.  My daughter hates the food (except the milk and apples) and she thinks it's pointless to go there to eat anyway.  Like most little kids probably think, to her it is an indoor playground that also serves food.  I think I'm starting to feel that way too.  Pretending that I don't feel disgust with the food at McDonald's reminds me of being back in school when you would pretend not to know the answer because you didn't want others to think you were "smart". Being smart back then had negative connotations. I think it was because people thought that you thought you were better than everyone else.  Likewise, if you were to fess up and tell someone that you don't eat fast food very often and you haven't been to McDonald's in over a year, people start giving you excuses about why they go or they get defensive as if you are accusing them of being a bad parent. Sometimes they explain to me that it takes awhile for the children to get accustomed to the food, but sooner or later she'll like it. (Sorry if I think it's sad to push chicken nuggets and hamburgers on my child just to fit in).  Or worse yet, they act like you are depriving your child of a mandatory experience.  Believe me, if I just take my child to the local playground and I keep feeding her apples and milk, she will be just as happy.  
     
     People underestimate what kids will like.  We recently took a weekend vacation with our daughter to hike at a wilderness sanctuary.  She loved it.  Before we left, a student of mine thought we should be taking her to more "touristy" places like Wisconsin Dells instead.  As it turns out, my daughter loved hiking so much, we went back there the next day.  After the first day of hiking, we planned to take our daughter to this bar/restaurant we heard about (but couldn't remember the name) that had a huge patio right by the river.  One of the ladies that works at the nature center overheard us and thought we were talking about a supper club. She told us our daughter wouldn't like it there. It wasn't the same place, but when we described the restaurant we were planning to go to, she still looked disgusted.  She told us that there was a McDonald's down the street and we should take her there because that's what the kids like. I thought she was going to have a heart attack when I told her, "My daughter doesn't like the food there, but thanks for the suggestion".  We promptly left and ate at the restaurant we planned to eat at. We ate soup and homemade grilled chicken wraps while boats sailed by us.  A bike path was between the river and the restaurant so there were many joggers/bikers/dog walkers passing by.  Our daughter loved it.  The next day we happened to drive past that supper club the lady had mentioned.  We turned around.  The supper club wasn't fancy, but it was right by the water. We ate there while the sun set over the bay.  The service was wonderful, the prices were decent, and we had a variety of choices. We feasted on homemade bread and soup, and a salad bar which featured fresh fruits, vegetables, and a multitude of other options.  My daughter was thrilled with just the salad bar.  By the time the main course came, we were practically stuffed.  We had plenty of leftovers for lunch the next day. The restaurant was child-friendly enough.  It had a high chair and the staff and the other diners didn't care when my daughter babbled and laughed. In fact, she was an icebreaker between us and the couple next to us (whose children are now teenagers).  My husband and I enjoyed the quality family time that we had at dinner.  Our daughter loved it.