Sumo Merriment

My sympathies on many fronts. My MIL is a lovely woman who has all of her faculties and can't do much for herself anymore. She had a stroke in '99 and her Parkinson's began to take it's toll before that, so now she is mostly in the wheelchair and her husband or, when we're there, her children/son-in-law cuts her food for her.

She was a very fine cook, especially when it came to baking. This year, Mrs DBK and I made her babka recipe, which is a complicated operation involving 7 pounds of flour, half a pound of baker's yeast, 12 eggs, and a pound and a half of butter. We have her big-enough-to-bathe-twins steel mixing bowl and her big-enough-to-slice-a-suckling-pig-on-it kneading board now, so that's what we use. The kneading process is anywhere from half an hour to an hour long, depending on how long it takes for the dough to come together and get silky and resilient, and I did the first forty-five minutes this year.

We brought Easter dinner to their flat. They weren't up to the twenty minute trip to our house. Ham, green beans, babka, and this pineapple dressing that everybody praised when Mrs DBK made it at Christmas (too sweet for my taste).

I am sorry about the wieners. Some traditions start harmlessly enough and become evil over time. The kids probably loved pigs-in-a-blanket when they were little and so mom indulged them and then there was no turning back. My mother still indulges me with foods that I loved as a kid and despise now, but no matter how many times I tell her that I don't like it anymore, she makes it for me whenever I see her because she's almost eighty years old and it is easier for her to remember that I said I liked poppy seed bagels when I was twelve than to remember that I said I don't like them when I am almost fifty. I try to enjoy my crazy old coots as much as I can because I know they won't be around as long as I would like. If they would live forever then I would get pissed off at them about the things they do. You're a good DIL to endure the holiday food terror.

That's a weird Easter tradition. Too bad you can't be the one to cook (even though it's so much work). I love bunnies, my son brought one home from the fair one time. The poor little thing didn't live very long though. We don't know why as everyone treated it really well and loved it.

My sibs and I had a few bunnies growing up. Still, my favorite story rabbit-wise is the one I experienced with my step-daughter & her mom.

She and some friends found a nest of baby bunnies near their school and she brought one the babies home since there was no mommie bunny 'round.

I, .. well, I wanted to tell her to put it back, even knowing that all the babes were doomed. 'Sjust the way it is, eh?

{sighhh}

Instead I agreed that we'd do what we could, but I didn't think the wee thing would survive, but Boo & her Mom got on the internet and googled "care for wild rabbits".

I bought the children's medicine dropper and some liquid vitamins to mix with milk and m'kiddo fed the minuscule thing that way a dozen times in the first afternoon. I bought a decent little cage (for which we needed to stuff blankets into the bigger holes to keep the wee one safely inside and Caesar the cat out) and, the next day, Boo and her friend convinced me to help them find insects in the back yard.

I couldn't believe how that tiny baby was thriving. It ate Everything we gave it! lol Then Mom decided it should be an outside critter and that we'd build it a pen near the back porch. (Yah right! Like I'm a freakin' carpenter! lol!) but I promised I'd make it safe and as warm as possible considering our location near the lakeshore.

Boo hated the idea of it being outside yet in her care so much that, before the day was over she decided on her own; she'd let the baby go in a safe-looking briar patch. None of us have any idea if it made it, but if anything so small could then it would.

Happy Spring to you Sumo. Bake away the blues Lady! lol!

Sorry for the wiener thing Sumo. Much credit for enduring such a nightmare. I love the fukitol ad. I sometimes think we all need it to get us through days like yours. I am not sure I could have survived it all. Today is a new day and you can put that one behind you.

No need to feel embarrassed and depressed. You can through it without ptomaine and the old lady got to feel important and alive again. If you ask me, that's a pretty successful Easter feast in anyone's book.

I agree with the poobah. Nothing to be embarrassed about. You are doing your MIL a service by being there, it makes her feel loved.

And I need me a dose of Fukitol right now. I'm just saying.

Thanks...great stories and advice. As long as the MIL feels she's doing a good thing...that's all that matters. Except...all these years I've been robbed of cooking for any holiday. That's what has me feeling sorry for myself. I know there are more important things than that...it just gets to me at holiday time. The rest of the time I do worry about her...she's been a good MIL otherwise. When Mr. Sumo's dad died in January...she gave ME his new Avalon...so that's a generous woman. It's just that what I am deprived of (maybe not the best word)...happens to be one of the greatest pleasures to me. The funny thing about her is...after she cooks...she complains about all the work. It's a creative outlet for me...not a chore. I'm not even allowed to talk about the things I cooked in my lifetime...she finds a way to dismiss it. Oh well...until the next holiday...

Do a holiday dinner on a non-holiday to get your ya-yas out.

Ditto what DBK says. Cooking and interacting with food is important to my sanity and well being. I am sure it is as important to me as some people's religion is to them.
Preparing food properly with reverence for the source whether it is vegetable or animal is a long standing part of my life. Everyday you stand in the kitchen and prepare food for your family is an opportunity to rejoice in the gifts out planet provides us and a chance to prepare them with love and respect for the contribution they are making to us and our families. I take every meal I prepare seriously much in the same spirit that many people only feel when they prepare their holiday meals. Don't let your care for the MIL take away what apparently, is an important part of who you are.

(Sigh)

I don't have a MIL, but my mother was a handful being a dutiful housewife but still very independent (from the southside of Chicago, she somehow learned to fly just before WWII--just to give you a clue of her spirit). She hated the infirmity that overtook her in her 80's. It's a tough thing to come to terms with. I imagine your MIL is trying to maintain a sense of independence via the easter meal.
As it means a lot to you too I'd suggest you might take a strategic approach and plan the next occasion as a collaborative effort some time beforehand. Discuss the next gathering and the menu, and basically weasel yout way into the process so that she is in charge but you work togehter as a team. The result might be more satisfactory for all, but as I say its a suggestion and nothing more.
P.S. If the "pigs in a blanket" are essential, order some "chipolatas" from 'Myers of Keswick' ( Google that)--not cheap but worth every penny.

As to rabbits, when I was eight a neighborhood friend asked me to take care of her pet rabbit for a few dayws whilst she went on vacation. I was familiar with her pet (we were best buddies). Unfortunately there was a significant difference between her location and mione, even though we lived on the same suburban street. The difference was that my house was directly adjacent to some woods.
So although Wendy's rabbit in its hutch was placed right below my bedroom window and under the eaves, the morning of the day Wendy was to return I discovered her rabbit bloodied and dead in its hutch--my only conclusion was that it had been harried by a fox and beaten itself to death in a panic.
Still, i felt bloody awful about it. Fortunately Wendy didn't hold it against me.

You poor thing, thank goodness its only once a year. Me and the kids cooked dinner together and had a good time.
Love lil bunny!

Family!! The best of worlds, the worst of worlds....Hang in there.
Floor weinies? Gross on several levels. You have my sympathies!

I'm with DivaJood, I'm sick of feeling like eight o'clock at night is first thing in the morning.

Just for clarification...the MIL never lets me cook...ever. No holidays ever! Not allowed to help...not allowed to make dessert. I make wedding cakes for goodness sakes.

Sumo, in our house, our little schnauzer, is the kitchen floor monitor, and it would have taken stomach surgery on him, to retrieve those floor weinies. You're a "good wife" and deserve all of the same considerations at some point.

Thanks Earl...but it isn't going to happen until she's either gone or just too weak to get up. She's the most stubborn person I've ever known.