#mondayquotes

I tiptoed into the library today while the kids were at choir and finished this beautiful little book. . .

It's not often that I borrow a book, read it, and then want to buy it and read it again in another month.  This is one of those. 

While finishing Anne Lindbergh's book today, I was struck once again with how applicable her words are to my own overwhelmed life. . .  I dug in my bag for a pen and the only paper I could find, an envelope, and scribbled.

Here's what stood out to me:

The interrelatedness of the world links us constantly with more people than our hearts can hold. . .
 

. . .My life cannot implement in action the demands of all the people to whom my heart responds.

. . .Because we cannot deal with the complexity of the present we often override it and live in a simplified dream of the future.  Because we cannot solve our own problems right here at home, we talk about problems out there in the world. . .
 

. . .Can one make the future a substitute for the present?  And what guarantee have we that the future will be any better if we neglect the present?  Can one solve world problems when one is unable to solve one's own?
 

. . .Have we been successful, working at the periphery of the circle and not at the center?

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Gift from the Sea, page 116, 117

useful / beautiful

fires we didn't start

could write about how i'm archiving all of the grief posts onto one page

could write about homemade tortillas

could write about . . .all kinds of things that i'm not really thinking about.

there's such a fine line hanging out there once you choose to dump your life out in front of people

choose honesty

choose real

choose the heartbreaking joy of not faking

there's this line that can be crossed.

it's called the oversharing line.

not everyone needs to know that Hayley had a bad day.

it's unnecessary.

it drags people down.

it's the reason I don't update my status with a Motrin mention when I have a headache.

so hopefully I'm not oversharing when I say that sometimes. . . in the middle of a very blessed life

and beautiful children

and an incredible man to love me, I still have really bad days.




sometimes life gets complicated

and decisions have two sides

and truth is grey

and you're not sure if the answers are what you need.

sometimes the fires we have to put out weren't ones that we started.

sometimes



you know. 



so when it was one of those days 

and I heard this song tonight. . . it stopped me in my i'm right this time, he's wrong tracks.

I had to pass it on because I cannot be the only person in the world who has days when fighting for your marriage is hard.

love isn't something you fall into.

it's learned.

we have the very best Teacher.

and we learn to love. . . because He first loved us.





I need the fear of a love that's lost
I need to stop trying to count the cost
I need to fight on the losing side
And always hold true
I will always stay with you

Til we know the pain of a broken heart
We can't walk through the fires we didn't start
Just hold on to the way it is tonight
And learn to love through the darkness and the light
I'm on your side

I had the fortune of a second chance
I know the reason why we all should dance
I've seen the end and all you have to do
Is always hold true
I will always stay with you

Til we know the pain of a broken heart
We won't walk through the fires we didn't start
Just hold on to the way it is tonight
We can learn to love through the darkness and the light
I'm on your side
Always hold true
I will always stay with you

Til we know the broken heart
We can't walk through the fires we didn't start
Just hold on to the way it is tonight
And learn to love through the darkness and the light
Oh, learn to love

{Needtobreathe, Learn to Love, from the album The Reckoning}

eli = joyful destruction

Sweet boy.

 

You love to sharpen pens in the electric pencil sharpener.

 

You like to pull my earrings out.

 

You love to climb, climb all the way on top of desks.  And game cupboards.  And dressers.

 

You like to open programs that cause serious problems for computers, all with a few pecks of your chubby fingers.

 

You like to open doors, bathroom doors. Nothing is safe from your inquisitive toddler self.

 

You love to unroll toilet paper with astonishing speed and grace.

 

You like to say oh, mannn. . . just like your daddy.

 

You love boots that are too big for you, enthusiastic clomping, joyful destruction, that's you, my son.

 

Oh such joy you bring.  Such a weary happiness.

 

I love your kisses, blown with sticky fingers.

 

I love hearing your feet trot across the floor.

 

I love hearing you say mamamama.

 

I love your whole little self.

 

 

 

You empty me out and fill me up at the very same time and I am so grateful to God for you, my son.

the artisan bread post

I know, I've been heavy on the food posts lately (get it?) 

I promise. . . I'll slow them down. . .

but this whole artisan bread thing is too good not to share.

It is so so easy.

I checked out the exhaustive how-to-do-it book at the library over Christmas vacation and found the instructions to be intimidating, even though I feel quite adept at kitchen-ese. It is so much easier than the book, blog, and website show.  That's the motivation for sharing this post with my usual less than stellar photography; an attempt to convince you that you really can have bread in five minutes a day.


You start with a container that is not airtight.  (Apparently this stalls the yeast action or something.)  Think ice cream bucket, jar with loose lid, bowl with large plate on top. 

Mix, in the jar,

3 cups warm water

1 tablespoon yeast

1 tablespoon salt

6  1/2 cups white flour.

Stir until moist.  It is very wet and sticky dough. Don't knead, don't worry, don't fret.

Let your jar sit on the counter for 2 hours.  Then cover it with your loose cover/lid, and refrigerate for up to 2 weeks.  This is enough dough for 4 round loaves

That's it!

When you are ready for hot fresh bread, sprinkle a little flour on the counter, using floured hands, grab a 1/4 portion of your dough,  (should be about softball sized) and smooth it the best you can, quickly.  It will be sticky.  That's okay.  Set on your floured counter or cutting board.

If you have used your dough up, like I did when I was taking these pictures, mix up some more in your jar.  You don't have to wash it.  The leftover bits of dough add to the artisan quality.

Allow to rise for 20 minutes.  When your timer buzzes, then put a pizza stone in your oven and begin preheating the oven and stone to 450.  Set timer again for 20 minutes.

At the end of 20 minutes, slash the top of your loaf two or three times to create  stripes or  a criss cross pattern.  Using a wide knife, spatula, or just your hands, slide loaf onto pizza stone.  (You may sprinkle flour or cornmeal on stone at this point to create texture for the bottom of your loaf.) Be quick about it, you want the oven to stay hot.

Then- (this is the only complicated part.  bear with me.)  slide a shallow broiler pan under your baking bread rack, quickly pour about 2 cups of hot water into the pan.  Shut the oven as fast as you can.  This process is to create steam, which in turn will make an unbelievably crisp-yet-chewy-yet-crunchy crust. 

Bake for about 30 minutes. 

You know it's done when it looks nice and crusty brown.

That's it! 

Notice that there is not a bit of fat added to this dough. 

That justifies the olive oil dipping plate you can make to go with the steaming bread and you can pretend you're in Italy or France or some country with amazing bread.  (Really, America?  White sliced bread?  That's the best we can do?)

olive oil + italian seasoning + little garlic + little fresh ground salt & pepper  = who needs butter?

lunch yesterday; build your own sandwiches.  we had 4 grape tomatoes left at the end.  ;) 

oh I just remembered. . . I was going to post homemade tortillas. . .

okay, there might be a few more food posts. 

cookin' at home: (easy bread edition)

The other day when our Chinese feast came to a grand total of $24,I found myself wondering once again. . . why do I cook?  Twenty four dollars isn't that much and even though we didn't have any conversation  (because a violent sci-fi was distracting everyone on the humongo big screen)

I wonder again

is this cookin' at home thing worth it?

It is, it is, it is.

Here are just a couple reasons why:

Home is a safe place.

It is a great time to gather the family together in one place and catch up. 

The dinner table is one of the very best places to learn manners

prayer

patience

please and thank you

pleasant conversation

You have the ability to teach children a balanced diet, something that is sadly lacking in our society.

And even though our Chinese was de.lish and only cost $24, that was for lunch.  *math time* $168 per week is a bit steep.  For lunches.  For anything.  That's well over our whole weekly grocery expenses. 

So. . . it is cheaper. . . to eat at home.  That's another good reason.

Way back last fall I had a huge frustration meeting with my grocery budget and my slush funds [ha ha]  and facebook.  I got a ton of sympathy but a lot more advice on how to stretch the ol' grocery budget.

I didn't grow up stretching much.  If we wanted it. . . well. . . we pretty much went to Wal-Mart and bought it.  :)  We didn't take a yearly vacation (camping is not a vacation) but we didn't view life through budget lenses, either.  If you wanted to have a big party, well, you had a big party, and if you wanted to order pizza for your big party, you ordered pizza for your big party (and we'll have a side of wings with that). 

My background is hardworking crazy fun loving family life, emphasis on fun.  This thought process contributed to a definite carelessness toward finances on my part; we clashed a lot over money issues during the early years of our marriage.

What I didn't realize about budgeting [or, telling your dollars where to go] was the fact that it would revolutionize our finance arguments.  At one time we fought over money issues constantly. After we began drawing up a monthly budget, calculating what there was to spend and the places the money had to go, needed to go and the places we wanted it to go, those frustrating misunderstandings just plain ceased. 

Of course, we still argue.  [You knew that.]  But we both look back at that point five-ish years ago as the place our money arguments really disintegrated.

So we tell our grocery dollars where to go. We tell them to go buy groceries.  Ha ha.

The only problem is that it is so stinkin expensive to buy fresh things, to eat healthy, to feed your children balanced meals and not spend hours cooking either. 

One of the best tips I received via my facebook plea was to serve breads  at a meal.  Initially we all react a little to serving carbs, but breads can be healthy and the important thing is to be serving well rounded meals.

As I started incorporating breads and more side dishes my grocery $$ have practically stood up and saluted.  In other words, they are actually buying more food.

So I thought I'd give you some of our very favorite bread selections.  Hopefully your grocery budget will stand up and salute you too.

I took the Carbonara away.  You would cry, too. It's yummy.

This is a batter bread that does not require kneading.  It's very easy, and usually called Idiot Bread but we think that's a nasty name and after a lot of discussion the kids came up with Anybody Bread. (Since anybody can make it.)

Buttery, herb-y, parmesan-y, the perfect accompaniment to a lighter meal such as a broth-based soup or a chef salad.  We make it almost once a week, usually serving it cut like breadsticks with some marinara sauce on the side.

Anybody Bread

serve with tossed chef's salad, carbonara, spaghetti squash & marinara, any italian soup

2 c. warm water
1 T. yeast
1 T. sugar
1 t. salt
1 c. whole wheat flour
3 c. white flour
1 stick butter, melted
garlic powder
italian seasoning
parmesan cheese

Soften yeast and sugar in warm water. Add salt and flour and beat well. Spread into a lightly greased 9 x 13 pan and cover loosely. Let rise for 1 hour, then pour melted butter over the top, sprinkle with the seasonings and bake at 400 for 30 - 35 minutes.

It's the bomb!

Anybody Bread

 

 

And who doesn't love a good cornbread?

 

I know I blogged this at one time, but I'm going to put it in here again.  It's just so yummy.  We make this about once a week, too.  It's perfect crumbled for a cornbread salad, it's good with soup, chili or any meal that just needs a lil extra "somethin'. "

 

Sweet Cream Cornbread

 

serve with chili, corn chowder, chicken taco salad

 

1 cup all purpose flour

1 cup yellow cornmeal
3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup sugar
1 egg, slightly beaten
1/3 cup oil
1 cup half and half

Mix dry ingredients; add wet ingredients, stirring just until moistened. Pour into greased, round 9" pan. Bake 18 - 20 minutes at 400.

 

*For every day, I replace the 1/2 & 1/2 with skim milk and the white flour with w/w.  I also use a stoneware round pan.

 

While we're on the subject of cornbread,  just in case you aren't aware of the South's great secret-with-a-boring-name, you may want to try baked corn.  My very first introduction to this was from my very Southern friend, Jodi. It sounded a bit weird to my small midwestern mind, but I tried it out and life has never been the same. ha ha ha.  Imagine a very rich, dense corn bread that almost has a custard like crumb. 

 

(Really I want to be a food writer when I grow up.)

 

 

Baked Corn

 

serve with taco salad, roast beef sandwiches, anything spicy that needs some sweet balance

 

1 box Jiffy cornbread mix

1 egg

1/4 c. butter

1 cup sour cream

1 can creamed corn

1 can whole corn, undrained

 

Mix all ingredients together, pour into greased 9 x 9 pan and bake @ 350 for about 30 minutes. 

 

*I usually double this, and bake it in the crock pot for 4 hours on low, convenient for Sunday dinner.

 

 

 

There's just no way to make biscuits healthy unless you look at it this way: you're caring for your mental health. 

 

And there's really no better warm fuzzy comfort food.

 

Here's my favorite dinner biscuit recipe, similar to the ones Red Lobster serves;  I usually mix up all the ingredients except the milk and store in the fridge until I'm ready to bake them.

 

Red Lobster Copycat Biscuits

 

serve with seafood (tilapia & steamed broccoli) or chicken wild rice soup. or anything that needs a cheesy biscuit.  :)

 

2 cups flour

1/2 t. garlic salt

4 1/2 t. baking powder

2 T. sugar

1/2 c. shortening

1 cup grated cheddar cheese

1 t. italian seasoning

1 cup milk

 

Drop by large spoonfuls onto greased cookie sheet.  (You should have enough for 12 biscuits.) Bake at 400 for 12-15 minutes.  Brush with garlic butter and serve immediately. 

 

 

And our newest craze,

 

Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day

 

This bread is great dipped in a little olive oil, salt, pepper & parmesan. I have been keeping the dough in an apothecary style jar ($7 at Walmart) and it's worked fine.  The recipe directions can seem a bit intimidating, but it's really quite easy. It's truly a five minute project to make a loaf of bread using this method, and there's great artisanal texture and holes and crustiness.  It's fun. 

Under the Snow Pile

This is me. . .

Peeking out from the snow pile of life

and birthdays . . .

and birthday parties. . .

Two children with birthdays two years and two days apart

{there are no new comments to make about this phenomenon, believe me}

and you know. . . just stuff. . .

So much work and life and stuff.

I get bogged down in the details and I want to stay in the moment, see the gifts, not the mess.

I don't succeed very often.

My sister drew this picture of me; the title is Hayley doing a good deed with a bad attitude:

 

I about died laughing looking at it. . . how can that little puppy dog be the dead on image of me. . . in a birthday party frenzy, a get to church on time frenzy, a get your chores done so we can go sledding frenzy?

 

 

More than half the time my frustration is caused by good things, things intended to bless people, things I want to do. 

 

 

I'm reading Anne Morrow Lindbergh's beautiful little work A Gift from the Sea.  She writes to weary women, burdened, burned out American women and though the original publishing date is 1955, the words ring true to my soul today in 2013. 

 

Here is a strange paradox.  Woman instinctively wants to give, yet resents giving herself in small pieces.

 Chapter 3, Moon Shell, pg. 40

 

I know that this is true.

I want to give, but I do resent being strung out in so many places. This is a problem with no obvious solution to me. 

The other day Eli was throwing Cambria's crayons from his perch on the coffee table, awaiting my reprimand with challenging toddler eyes and  a little jutted chin.

Cambria was completely exasperated.

Ugh, we should like, have , like, a little jail for Eli!

I wanted to laugh because sometimes I'm tempted to feel the same way. . . could we just lock up all of our distractions and focus on one thing at a time?

That's not my option though and that's not what God has called me to.  He has called me to a home to open and to children to love, a man to help and little people to teach.  He's called me to give.  When I run out of things,

energy

time

resources

to give. . .

He still is there to draw on.

I'm thankful for that well that never runs dry.

#mondayquotes

"Those who lived in villas never spoke to those in huts.  Villa-dwellers pretended no one else was there.
 

. . .How easy it is to let lives go unnoticed.  Lord, keep me from letting any life slip by."
 

from Behind the Veils of Yemen

Audra Grace Shelby 

 

Grandma's Sour Cream Coffee Cake

This morning was just one of those golden mornings, the kind you wanna circle on your calendar and paint with glitter glue. . .

Eli and Cambria were blissfully playing together and I decided to sneak in a shower. 

I tiptoed to the bathroom with perfectly brewed Starbucks in my favorite MFD mug, iPad belting my Pandora Marry Me (Train) station tucked under my arm and shut the door.  I need a shelf in the shower for my coffee.  It's truly the very best way to wake up, a hot shower and hot coffee.  It'll make anyone a morning person.

Anyway, I knew everything was way too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. . .  my mug fell in the shower and shattered everywhere. 

Yup, there we go, that's more like real life.

Anyway, the day wasn't ruined, because we had Grandma's sour cream coffee cake to enjoy all day.

This is just the best. . .

I called Grandma tonight to see if she remembered where she got the recipe. . . thought maybe there would be a great story. There wasn't anything earthshaking, just simple neighborly kindness that is such a thing of the past.

"It was Mary's," she said, and Mary lived behind Grandpa's greenhouses and would bring this coffee cake every once in awhile to them over their breaks.  I love stories like that and I never would have known if I didn't ask. . . *go call your grandparents*

Sour Cream Coffee Cake [Blackberry Lemon 2/7]

1 stick butter (use butter wrapper to grease 9x13 pan)
1 cup sour cream
1 egg
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 t. vanilla


Mix together.

Add:

2 cups flour
1 t. soda

Fold in 2 cups of fruit, fresh or frozen {apples, strawberries, raspberries, rhubarb, peaches, blueberries are all amazing}

[today I used blackberries and grated in lemon zest]

Sprinkle with 1/3 sugar and a little cinnamon if it complements the fruit you choose.

Bake at 350 for about 25 minutes.  You don't want to over bake. . . it's meant to be very light brown with a whitish crumb. 

Why are there coins on the counter?  I don't know. . . they're Cambria's. . . probably a long drawn out story. . . 


Yay. . . it's almost Friday people!!  I can't wait!  I can barely make it to the weekends these days.  Is it too soon to be counting down the days to school being out? 

No, no, it's not.  :)

that moment when. . .

that moment when. . .

. . .you ask the homeschool mom next to you what she does. .

then autocorrect your sentence and offer-

but of course- you're a stay at home mom-

and then she smiles and says

no- I work full time as an ER nurse.  I just arrange my shifts so I can still homeschool.

Um. Yeah.  Okay.  You're my hero.

(She probably drinks three pots of coffee per day.)


. . .you hear your pastor's six year old son say to your daughter why do you keep trying to hold my hand, Cambria?  {sigh. parenting a girl is not going to get any easier.} #letsnotchasetheboys

. . .your son tells you he's been reading Focus on The Family's adult parenting magazine and he saw that often children get results if they ask for things three days away, rather than immediately, i. e.  "Mom, could we watch cartoons in three days?" {yes} vs."Mom, can we watch cartoons now?" {no} #thanksDr.Dobson.  NOT.

. . .you notice a suspicious lump in your daughter's jeans pocket and she proceeds to pull out some Kotex.  nooooooo. . . I don't want to talk about the birds and bees. . .

. . .you park in front of the house of someone you really look up to and your foot slips onto the gas pedal and there's a pedal to the metal acceleration sound and you actually wonder who is making that awful noise- and then you realize it's you.  In front of the house of the people you really look up to.

. . . you see those 52 Date Night Ideas and all your mind can do is calculate 52 x $30 to sitter = $1,560.00.  #hushedsilence.

. . .you take off your tennis shoes and blow all your breath out before you step on the scale.

. . .church gets cancelled due to weather and you shriek for joy and jump up and down even though you do love God and worship and fellowship.

. . .you look across your Chili's shrimp tacos and wonder what you ever did to deserve a friend like Deeann!

. . .your lil punkin starts to say "Mamma."

. . .your daughter asks mom, how old is a fifteen year old? Umm. . .

. . .you realize somehow your son has been avoiding and escaping showers. . . for a long. . . time. . . as in dayyyyys. . . #phew #showerschedule #Axe #lil'chat

. . .your five year old confides that she heard a bad word. . . hushes her voice. . . leans over to you. . . "s t u p i d."  #whew

. . .just a few moments over here at my house during the past few days.

Children's Museum {music room}

 

 



Infinity Scarf project with the yarn JD bought me for Christmas- it's almost done!  Just have to go to Wikipedia to figure out how to cast off. ;)



Eli popped his head into the picture- and yes, he has been a huge threat to the knitting project.  Even dropped the needles down the cold air return vent.

 



 

Our Bible Study is working through Jennie Allen's stuck.  This was a project at the end of a study of Romans 8-  contrasting selfish desires with desires filtered through the perspective of God's Word.

 

 

Happy Wednesday!

ski trips. then and now.

If I were a fake facebooker, tomorrow morning, at dark o'thirty, I would say this:

long weekend skiing with the fam! 

But the truth is that today was a two pot coffee kinda day and skiing sounds like the least fun activity in the world to me right now.

Fun would be. . . maybe. . . laying in bed reading a book and looking out the window?

Ugh . . .never in a million years did I imagine I would be this boring of a person.

I think have officially arrived at the un-fun mom stage of life.

Definitely channeling the grinch as I prepare for the 8th (?) annual ski trip. 

Then I skiied with my man.

Now I chase my toddler around and pray to God that none of the guys in red medic coats comes in my general direction with one of my kids.


Then it was entertaining to watch the stars align and boy-meets-girl moments.  {one of my sisters really truly met her husband on one of these trips}

Now I'm informed of relationships and I'm like huh?! they're wayyy too young!  What?? I didn't see that coming! And other such nonsense spoken from the depths of the diaper bag masquerading as a Thirty-One bag, looking for that last goldfish cracker.

Then  I googled super yummy show stopping bar recipes to take along for the umpteen hungry guests.

Now I look both ways (hoping no one is looking I guess) and pack today's chocolate chip cookies in gladware.  Everybody still likes chocolate chip cookies, right?

Then I couldn't wait to see friends and catch up and chat with my sisters.

Now - well, I still can't wait to see friends and chat with my sisters, but conversation is more like short bursts of information exchanges. In between  diaper changing  Eli and holding my breath watching my boy ski off the lift, video taping the amazing first skiing moments of Cambria and trying not to eat everyone ELSE'S show stopping bars. . . what conversation????

I told Daniel that I was toying with the idea of not going since the work had far surpassed the fun quotient. 

He informed me that he was definitely feeling that attitude from me.

(insert sad face)

It reminds me of Christmas vacation with Daniel's family.  Late one night we ordered pizza and watched one of the Bourne movies.  I love watching action/suspense when I'm with Daniel and I was actually so excited.  Just as we all settled in, Eli woke up.  I decided I'd take some time and make sure he was all back asleep and I rocked him, cuddled him, kissed him and laid him down.  This took some time.  Just as I left, he started screaming.  That behavior is really unlike him, so I spent more time.  I guess I really lost track, because long story short, when he was finally calmed down and asleep, I rejoined the movie crew.

As I sank into the chair, the last sentence was spoken and the credits started rolling. 

Yep, not gonna lie, I blinked watery eyes tears.  I'm that sister-in -law.

It's hard to be a mom.

It's hard to let go of the crazy fun years.

I love my kids so much. 

I would die for them.

But it's hard for me to cheerfully pack a cooler of snacks and pack and plays and overnight bags and a gargantuan ikea bag of three changes of mittens and every imaginable combination of snowgear. 

Isn't that like our walk with God, too sometimes?

I tell God that I would do anything for Him.

But then I don't want to take the neighbor kids to Awana because they conversationally told me they'd had the flu going around.

I glibly think that I will always take the side of Jesus.

And then I hesitate to speak His name.


I'll die.

I just don't want to cheerfully pack.

But for now, He isn't asking me to die, He's asking me to cheerfully pack.

And then there's the fact that in my minds eye, I really really really wanna be a fun mom.  You know, the kind that lets her son's hungry friends come over and just orders one two three extra pizzas. 

The kind that stays up late and listens to a fifteen year old girl's endless boy/will-i-be-single-forever/am-i-pretty drama, on her knees beside a tearsoaked pillow.

The kind who says YES let's go bowling!

The kind who doesn't quit wearing makeup or looking cute even though it's a bit harder than at age 24.

The kind that goes to skiing trips.

And just so you know, I was just describing my mom, who will be there tomorrow. Probably skiing.

Alriiiiighty.

I have now effectively psyched myself up for the weekend.

We're going skiing with the fam!

Peppermint Popcorn

My morning started out with this shocker when Jacob prayed at breakfast that we would

(get this)

find it urgent to be kind and generous with each other

I had a hard time not laughing out loud.

Urgent?

An hour later he must have also felt that it was urgent to call Cambria a bossycat.

What is a bossycat, anyway?

Oh the queries of motherhood.

Jacob's penchant for using big words is one of our main bonding points.  The only thing that we seem to share in common is a love for the English language and reading.  Other than that he is a clone of his daddy.

Anyway. . .

We made this salad last week and it was sooo good.  I served it in taco shell bowls with that Cafe Rio chicken that is all over Pinterest.  Pretty delish.

I love red cabbage in salads.  I seasoned the cabbage in this one with a little red wine vinegar, salt, pepper and cumin powder and let it sit on the counter to wilt a little while I prepared everything else.

 

 

Hypothetically speaking, if you eat healthy, then salad cancels out all of the calories in this peppermint popcorn stuff that I discovered at Deeann's Pinterest party.  (Have I already mentioned Pinterest twice in one post? oh dear)  She says it's not original with her, but I'm giving her the credit anyway. :)

 

Peppermint Popcorn

 

3 bags of light butter microwave popcorn, popped

1 lb. white chocolate, melted

handful of candy canes (I used 10 large ones) pulverized in blender

 

Pour white chocolate over popcorn, stir to coat.  Sprinkle with candy cane "sugar" and pour out onto parchment paper to cool and harden.   

 

It's a great way to use up all of the leftover candy canes from Christmas.

 

It's also a great way to sabotage your diet.  I've made three batches in the last two weeks cuz it keeps disappearing. :)

#mondayquotes

"None of us want to make God look bad. 

But in the end, being fake makes God look worse. 

It makes people think He tastes like Crisco."

 

-Bob Goff

 

from Love Does, Chapter 14

A New Kind of Diet:  I used to think religion tasted horrible, but now I know I was just eating the fake stuff

 

three year birthdays & what scars represent

 

Today our littlest man would be three.

 

It's such a sweet thought. . . not as bitter as the last two years.

 

Healing is slow.

 

Much like  deep wounds, at first the grief bleeds, throbs, you don't have a life outside the all-consuming pain.

 

Then there's a break in the pain, there's check ups, flare-ups, maybe infection, or tearing open and sutures needed again.

 

But if cared for, a wound heals. 

 

One day, all that's left is scarring, marking what once consumed, tore, ached, changed the landscape. 

 

Are scars beautiful?

 

I don't know, maybe they are.

 

The scar on my soul left from losing my son, my precious little Gabe, who should be in the throes of potty-training and first real sledding trips - that scar represents so much to me.

 

It does have a strange kind of beauty.

 

That scar has taught me that life is precious.

 

That scar has taught me that the role people play in caring for the hurting is monumental.

 

It's taught me sometimes tragedy is just plain out of our control.

 

(I should have known that, you say.  I know, I should have.  But I didn't.)

 

I learned that God is truly near to the broken-hearted.

 

I learned that sometimes strong people don't want to live anymore, and sometimes weakness looks strong on the outside.

 

I learned that underneath our happy small talk, every single person struggles with something.

 

 

And healing. . . it does come.

 

 

Time heals.

 

 

It's true, it does. 

 

 

I heard someone say the other day that you don't realize how much you've healed until you look back and remember how broken you were.  I wanted to stand up and shout, yes yes yes. 

 

 

Healing looks different on everybody.  Maybe it just means you can smile.

 

Maybe healing is being able to breathe. 

 

Maybe it's just knowing it's okay to remember and not cry. 

 

I didn't dread Gabe's birthday this year;  it was just sweet, to look back and realize how much he changed my life.  I smiled remembering how difficult the transition from two to three children was for me.  I was exhausted. 

 

One of my favorite moments with Gabe was at one-thirty in the morning when he was about two months old.  He was awake, crying, and wanting to cuddle.  I was tired, sleep deprived, yet something just nudged me to savor him.  I took him downstairs, curled up in my favorite big chair and just drank him in.  I  kissed him, stroked his dark, dark hair, smelled his still-newborn scent.  I clearly remember looking out the window at the dark night and just thinking this is going to fly by.  I don't want to forget.  I want to sear this moment in my heart.  Of course I was thinking of first cars and college, not of tiny caskets or death certificates.  But God knew, and He gave me that precious moment with my little son. 

 

 

Healing is knowing that Heaven is real.

 

Healing is knowing here isn't the end.

 

Healing is knowing that the process isn't over.

 

Losing a child isn't something that is ever over.

 

Healing is embracing what the scars show. 

 

I'm thankful for my little son's life. 

 

I wouldn't wish losing a child on my worst enemy, yet I'm truly thankful for what I've learned on the grief road.

 

I'm so glad that three years ago little Gabriel James was born. 

 

Happy birthday, my sweet, sweet baby.  I love you so much.

 

{and just because it's his birthday. . . some of my very favorite pictures, in no particular order}

happy new year!

{changed our headboard quote today}
{love sarah mclachlan

Ugh!

I accidentally deleted all of my old blog design features;  I couldn't recover it and don't have time to keep messing with it right now so I guess it is what it is until I can spend a couple hours with my laptop and these guys.

I also stepped on a piece of glass first thing this morning.

Eli had pseudo - flu all day and Daniel is on duty.

I am very glad that my happiness in the new year does not  depend on circumstances.

The kids and I had fun with New Year's resolutions though;  Cambria wanted to write "Have mom make my bed every day."  Thus ensued an explanation of resolutions; goals to better oneself, not plans for laziness.

Right?

I think so, anyway.


Cambria and I made this pillowcase the other day.

Now that I have my sewing machine fixed it's not an all day battle to sew one little seam. 

The fun thing about this particular skirt-into pillowcase is that the skirt already has tons of ruffles that would take for-ev-er to put on yourself.

Do you remember those Mossimo Target skirts that were sold around '03? I do because I bought one to wear to drive to our new town with my fiance and pick up the keys for our first little house. I can't claim this idea as my own, because I saw it at my mom's house first (apparently my sister Lydia bought the pink version and discarded it for Mom to make-over) - but it's quite simple to make a pillowcase out of a skirt.

Anyway, you just cut off the waistband, turn it inside out and sew it shut.  Then turn it right side out and make the corners go to a point with a pencil or knitting needle.  Voila- it doesn't get any easier.

(You can also climb in the pillowcase if you are very small.)

I've been seeing these skirts all over lately at goodwill and salvation army - of course now that I know I want them again, they'll all be gone, but maybe you'll find one in your closet or thrift store and be able to have a fun lil pillowslip for the new year.

Speaking of the new year. . .

one of my goals is more sleep.  I average about 5 hours a night.  I don't know if this is normal or not, but it's certainly not optimal.  Now that my little punkin is happily snoring through the night I'm hoping that some sanity will return.  Maybe? 

Other goals include 

time with God

less busy

more people

great books

good coffee

tasting food instead of inhaling

flylady

more outdoors time than walking from kitchen to van


and stuff like that.

Happy new year to you! I'm off to make some chocolate malts and play Mexican Train with my peeps. :)