On Raising Humans and Strawberry Jello Pretzel / Pretzel Jello Salad

It’s funny, because when I started this blog post back in February, I have no idea what I planned to write. But here I sit, and the title still works, so we will go from there.

We find ourselves in a pandemic. I said to my daughter last night, “You get that you are living history right now?” Which, in truth is both interesting and really scary. She looked over at me and smiled. I’ll take it. In a time when we are spending a whole lot of time with our own children, smiles are good things.

As a Reading Teacher in a pretty good sized school, I get the privilege of seeing a lot of little faces. Many cannot pronounce my last name correctly, and that’s ok. I answer to a lot of things. I also get to do the announcements in the morning, and I am missing the jokes of the day I get handed to me on scraps of paper from the students. It’s all of the tiny moments that make up the school day. I really do have great stories. I often say, “If you didn’t work here, you wouldn’t believe it.” And my colleagues? I am one of the lucky ones. Our building is family. That’s a gift.

This week was the onset of “distance learning.” A week where teachers are gathering materials and supporting students online. A time where parents are with their children all day, and working on materials they may or may not understand. It’s all very different looking, and feeling. We are finding work spaces in our home spaces. We are thankful for the internet. We are trying to make it work. And it is challenging for many.

I’ll just say it, raising humans is hard and exhausting. Go back and reread that, because it is worth repeating. If you are a parent and you are depleted at the end of the day, and wondering…”Did I do everything I could?” breathe, you are normal.

We don’t always use our teacher voices when we talk to our own kids. We don’t always see their struggles like we would our students, because, well, they have us for parents…how hard can their lives be?

Now, my kids have always been my priority, and we are past the help with bathing, help with potty, help with bedtime rituals. They don’t really need me. I mean, they need me but not really. I think I did a good job raising them and then, I realize an area where I just missed the mark. Where I say to myself, “how did I miss that?” or “I could have handled that this way.” Hindsight is awesome, isn’t it?

When I knew I wanted to have children, I had three foundational rules as a mom. 1. I would say the following things and mean it. “I am sorry”, “I am proud of you”, and “You are loved.” 2. I would step back and give myself a few breaths before reacting. 3. I would cuddle and hug my kids if they let me. I was raised by non-huggers. I have worked to become a hugger, but I think I actually raised cacti. But hey, we try. I hope I have succeeded in these goals. My eerie calm when stuff goes down proves the step back part worked…but I still find pockets of sucky parenting if I analyze it enough.

So, that being said, one phrase I hate to hear is, “There is nothing to eat.”

Cue the evil eye.

Here is a recipe that will not get that comment. I’ve realize that “There’s nothing to eat” actually means, “I don’t see anything in the fridge I want to eat.” Different sentence. This is not one of those things. This is a birthday, Easter, and picnic/gathering staple. Is it dessert? Is it a side dish? Is it called Jello-Pretzel or Pretzel Jello salad? I don’t know. I just know if I make it the kids eat it.

This was first introduced by the amazing Nonni in PA, and I lost her recipe somewhere along the line and the internet found me another one. I think they are all pretty much the same in that it is a layer of salty pretzels, a layer of cream cheese cool whip goodness, and a layer of strawberries in Jello.

Don’t judge. Salty, sweet, creamy, crunchy. It’s good stuff.

I guess if I were going to parallel it to parenting, its got the whole spectrum, the ups and downs, the smooth and the rough. It’s not just one thing, ever. And, I am finding as my children become adults, the worries get bigger and harder. But that’s for another blog post.

Make this dish. You won’t be disappointed. I am not sure what our Easter will look like, but I can guarantee this will be on the table.

Oh, and you are doing a great job raising your kids, in case no one has told you today.

I hope you enjoy this recipe, and as always, thank you for coming to the table,

Chrissy

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