Thursday, December 24, 2015

Magic Reindeer Feed: Our Christmas Tradition

"But how will Santa know where we are?" Faith's voice carried that particular mix of worry and wonder that only a child facing their first Christmas crisis can muster. We'd recently moved to Southern California—no snow, no chimney, no clue how Santa was supposed to make it work.

Hanging Santa's Magic Key, Christmas Eve 2004

"And how will he get in without a fireplace?" she added, her brow furrowed with the kind of serious concern that makes you realize your five-year-old has been thinking this through.

At the time, Teddy was still a true believer, full of wonder and ready to defend Santa's honor to anyone who dared question him. Kailey, on the other hand, had already been quietly inducted into the fraternity of elves—that knowing, magical role older siblings step into when they learn the truth but choose to protect the magic for the little ones. That Christmas became a turning point. The questions were real, but so was our response.

So, like any good parent backed into a magical corner, I improvised.

The Solution

Kailey, Faith, Madison, and Teddy making
Magic Reindeer Feed, Christmas Eve 2008

2004 marked the beginning of our tradition of Magic Reindeer Feed and Santa's Magic Key. Standing in our California kitchen, we gathered around the counter. The kids stirred the oats and sparkles, the gentle sound of ingredients hitting the mixing bowl creating its own kind of Christmas music. Faith added a healthy scoop of Christmas hope with each stir.

The mixture was festive and fun, but more than that, it was purposeful. I told the kids the reindeer would be able to see it glimmering from the sky, guiding Santa straight to our home. It was a homemade beacon—one part snack, two parts signal, and all heart.

And the key? Oh, the key. Growing up, my mom had her own ways of making Christmas magic work, no matter where we lived or what challenges we faced. She taught me that the best traditions aren't the ones you inherit perfectly—they're the ones you adapt with love. Our first Magic Key was humble and homemade—an old house key we weren't using anymore, decorated with a red yarn lanyard and absolutely smothered in as much glitter as we could glue on. It looked more like a kindergarten art project than a piece of North Pole tech, but it worked.

A few years later, one of Santa's "elves" (with an Amazon account) upgraded us to a more elegant skeleton key—something shiny and antique-looking, worthy of the North Pole. But I still keep that original glittery mess tucked away with our decorations. It was the key that started it all.

Magic Reindeer Feed Recipe

Ingredients:

  • 1 cup rolled oats
  • 1/4 cup red and green sugar sprinkles
  • 1/4 cup edible glitter or colored sanding sugar
  • A pinch of belief (the secret ingredient)

Instructions: Mix all dry ingredients in a large bowl until evenly distributed. The mixture can be stored in an airtight container for up to two weeks before Christmas Eve.

The kids spreading the feed, Christmas Eve 2006

On Christmas Eve, give each child a small handful to scatter on the lawn, porch, or even a balcony. If rain is in the forecast, place small piles under covered areas or on windowsills—reindeer have excellent eyesight.

Notes: Back then, we used regular craft glitter, thinking more about sparkle than sustainability. But over time, as the kids got older and more aware of the world around them, we made the switch to edible glitter—a small but meaningful change to make sure the reindeer (and the North Pole) stayed microplastic-free. Magic shouldn't come at the planet's expense.

The Ritual

The kids scattered the feed on our lawn with the gravity of an ancient ritual, whispering instructions to Dasher and Dancer and all the rest. Their voices carried across the California evening air, mixing with the sound of distant neighbors and the unfamiliar hum of our new neighborhood. I remember thinking how different this felt from the snowy Christmases of my childhood, yet somehow just right.

The next morning, we'd find the sparkles mostly gone (thanks to birds, wind, and morning dew), evidence enough that the reindeer had found us after all.

The Evolution

Now, years later, the kids are older. The questions have changed. Kailey is getting ready for medical school, Teddy is in college, Faith has taken her place as an elf, and all the kids know the secret. But the magic? It lingers.

However, I've learned something important about traditions—they're not museum pieces to be preserved exactly as created. They're living things that grow and adapt. Some years, we've added different colored sugars depending on what I had on hand. One year, we made extra bags so the kids’ friends could join in “our” ritual. The tradition became less about the exact recipe and more about the moment of connection—that Christmas Eve pause where we acknowledge wonder together.

Every Christmas Eve, I still see that first night through Faith's eyes—the worry, the wonder, and the moment I realized that magic isn't something that happens to you. It's something you create, one handful of sparkly oats at a time.

If Yes, Virginia was about believing in the unseen, this tradition was about doing something to make that belief real. And maybe that's the greatest kind of magic there is—the kind that starts with a parent's quick thinking and becomes a memory none of us will ever forget.

Merry Christmas, and may you always find just enough sparkle in your yard and your heart.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Green Beans, Chicken & Potatoes

Over the years, I have come to realize that each of my children can be a very picky eater. One often repeated conversation starts...

Dad: "What do you guys want for dinner?"
Child 1: "In-N-Out"
Child 3: "No, I hate In-N-Out, let's go to KFC..."
Child 2: "Yuck, they are both disgusting, I want barbecue..."
Child 1: "I asked first..."
       ...and so on, until:
Dad: "...Enough, we are stoping at the grocery store for TV dinners."

Most parents can relate to some form of this conversation. Having one picky eater can be challenging, but having three ends up being an argument. It has taken me lots of time to realize that I can not force the kids to like (or even eat) the foods that I think they should.

But coming to this realization was challenging, and I haven't always earned my "best parent of the year" trophies when it comes to getting my fussbudget eaters to "come around"...there was the (now) notorious episode of my oldest hiding sweet potatoes in her milk (and me then trying to force her to drink the concoction). Then there was the Tuna Helper riot of 2007, with my youngest (only slightly exaggerated for comic effect...) throwing her pasta at me, from across the table, and me responding that she could have it for breakfast too...

At the end of the day, I do realize that I can't force my children to do anything, especially eat, so I have (for the most part) just stop trying. The best I can do, is offer them nutritious, varied foods—and eat them myself. The kids can have theirs, or not, and the best I can do is model the behavior I want them to emulate.

So, I put the food on their plates, if it stays there, I don't push them (too much—but is a "no-thank you" bite too much to ask?!) . Really I try not to stress over it too much (to varying degrees of success). Unfortunately none of them seem to like the same foods at the same time which can make family dinner time a pretty stressful situation for everyone involved.

But I finally found a one-pan meal that they all tolerate (some might even say that they like...). Presenting Italian Chicken:

Ingredients

  • 6 small to medium red potatoes, cut
  • 8/9 oz package of frozen cut green beans
  • 1 1/2 lb chicken breasts (3-6 breasts)
  • 1/2 c. butter
  • 1 package Italian dressing mix

Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
  2. Lightly grease a 9x13" (3 quart) baking dish with butter.
  3. Line one side of the baking dish with the cut green beans.
  4. Line the chicken breasts down the middle of the baking dish.
  5. Cube the potatoes and line the opposite side (from the green beans) of dish with the potatoes.
  6. Cut the stick of butter into small pats and layer over the green beans, potatoes and chicken. 
  7. Sprinkle Italian dressing over the entire pan. Cover with foil.
  8. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hr 15 min (or until the chicken breasts reach 165 degrees internal temperature).
There isn't anything here that any of the three kids hate (in fact, they love all the ingredients, although just last night my youngest says she doesn't like the green beans with the Italian dressing mix...sigh). 

I serve this meal with a fruit salad, or even some canned pears or peaches, and voila dinner time is solved (at least two times per month).

It took time, some trial and error, and a few tears (mine and the kids), but I learned that by continually offering them choices, I was finally able to hit upon something that appeals to all of our tastes (well, for the most part)!