I used to parachute to school. Our minivan our aircraft, my  father our pilot.  He was, to our delight, terrible at landing, deliberately hitting the curb every time.  Turbulence, he'd say.  Most of the time, Dad's mood set the tone for the family.  If he was silly, as he often was, we knew we would have fun, no matter what we were doing. After countless drives home, I sat in the dark car dancing while he drummed on the steering wheel.  You just can't go in the house in the middle of a good song.

But when Dad was in a foul mood, it settled in over everyone. The infamous A1 incident is a good example. My brother set the cap on the bottle loosely so that when my dad shook it it sprayed through the air, mostly all over my white shirt.  For whatever reason, on that day, he did not see the humor.  We all laughed hysterically and were reprimanded.  I know he didn't intend to dictate the tone, but that's how it was. It always bothered me that I didn't feel capable of letting him be-- in whatever state he felt like being-- without letting it affect mine. 

Now I'm married to a wonderful man who is more like my father than I ever would have imagined.  Of course, there are things that are very right about that.  There are others that make my mother laugh and make me question the wisdom of my choice.  If Daniel is in a great mood, we all are.  If his mood is sour, mine will be too.  I take it personally.  I cannot understand why I do this.  To his credit, when I am in the middle of one of my not-so-infrequent "dark moments," he never does this.  He never assumes my displeasure, and is routinely sweet to me, even while I take out my irritation on him.  But I feel like I have to fix it, making him offers in an effort to help.  When that doesn't work, I get annoyed.  I challenge him, as if he's not supposed to feel whatever way he feels.  It's terribly selfish of me, actually.  It's not that I want him to feel better, it's that I want to feel better. And since I can't seem to be responsible for my own emotions in this case, that requires that he feel better too.

I used to say I wouldn't let this happen-- that I would set an example for my children and would not allow anyone to impose negativity on the rest of the family.  As it turns out, I'm the one perpetuating it. He's brooding lately, through no fault of my own, over stress at work and uncertainty in our personal life.  It's all completely warranted.  I've offered tea and a listening ear, time alone-- whatever he needed.  It didn't work.  I started troubleshooting, which pretty much never works. I need to learn to let it be without letting it be mine.

My brother will tell you I can't leave well enough alone.  Why make scalloped potatoes for Easter when you can make low-fat, scalloped potatoes with mushrooms?  And why use Cooking Light's recipe as written, when you can doctor it up a bit?  I'll tell you why: Because you risk bringing very brown and disgusting "scalloped potatoes" that everyone at the table thinks are straight mushrooms and only tastes as a courtesy before eating the boxed potatoes au gratin. I've noticed a lot of my attempts at good food made healthy feature caveats and a pained expression. Not every risk pays off.

But this one did! I have been searching for months for a whole wheat and delicious banana muffin recipe. My husband, Daniel, will tell you I have had many failures on my quest. But finally, a success!  I found a good recipe on healthy-family-eating.com, and made just a few tweaks.

Banana Oat Muffins

What you need:
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup oat flour
3 /4 cup whole wheat flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2tsp baking soda
2 tbsp honey
2 eggs
3 mashed, very ripe bananas
1 /4 cup olive oil
What to do:
1. Combine all dry ingredients, then add honey, eggs, mashed banana and oil
2. Mix together until just combined
3. Spoon the mixture into a greased 12-cup muffin tray
4. Bake at 350ºF for 20 minutes or until golden brown
Nutrition facts:169 cal | 6g fat | 1g sat | 31mg cholest | 65mg sodium | 27g carbs | 2g fiber| 12g sugar| 3g protein

Even reluctant whole wheat eaters will love these. No caveats or butter required.

Thanks for stopping by.  I'm Christina.  Smarter Ardor is my space for remembering, exploring, and sharing my attempts at living life intentionally.  Passionate living requires action, and I am working hard to live the principles I've always said I believe. The site and I are still deciding what we want to be. Don't expect compartmentalization or perfection.  It's all here--somewhere! Come along and join the journey.