Absolute Poppycock

GLOW IN THE DARK EGG HUNT

2012-04-07T16:05:55Z

My girls are generally the last ones to turn in their school permission slips. They are the children who show up at school missing either their entire lunch or part of it; they are the ones wearing mismatched soccer socks on game day because I can’t find the set. I am scatter-brained and disorganized and the girls often suffer at least the short-term consequences. (I do get their permission slips turned in eventually and if they’re missing their lunches, I bring them before it’s time to eat, even if that means a quick run to Publix to pick up a oh-so-healthy Lunchable.)

Our house is usually much closer to a disaster area than something belonging in House Beautiful. They don’t have as many play dates as they’d like, mostly because I can’t make them work with my crazy schedule and my lackluster housekeeping skills make spur of the moment company difficult to say the least. They’re often later getting to bed than they should be because I haven’t managed to get dinner on the table until well after 7:00 p.m.

I worry about this. a lot. I compare myself to other moms and I often feel inadequate, particularly when we’re out somewhere and I see a mom who has everything all organized and running smoothly and I can’t find water bottles, backpacks, school folders, my keys, my sunglasses.

Last night, though, none of that bothered me. Last night it was okay that my daughters may not get the benefit of an organized, all-together mother. They do get the benefit of a creative, playful one. Their dinners are late, but we have a lot of picnics. Their permission slips get signed slowly, be we’ve been a lot of places that don’t require permission slips. Our house is often a disaster, but we do a lot of crafts that involve glue and paint and glitter. a lot of glitter.

Last night we had a Glow In The Dark Easter Egg Hunt. I saw the idea somewhere on the internet (and for the life of me, I can’t remember where!)and knew it was something that the girls would love. I ordered the mini-lights and picked up some plastic eggs. I already had the jewel-shaped eggs – they looked really cool with the lights.

Steve “hid” them around the yard – since they were glowing in the night, they weren’t hard to find. We called the girls out and told them we wanted them to come look at the moon. When they walked out the door and saw the yard aglow in Easter colors, they shrieked with joy. And I smiled!

Abigail ran giggling round and round the yard and Gracie kept saying “This is sooooo cool!”

I need to work on my organizational and time management skills – I know I do. But, at least for right now, I’m going to celebrate my strengths instead of beating myself up constantly for my weaknesses. Yes, yesterday was chaotic, but there was a whole lot of laughter and that, at least in my eyes, is something to celebrate.

Weary

2012-04-02T02:19:38Z

Abigail had her tonsils and aednoids removed last Tuesday by a skilled surgeon wielding a cool little tool called a plasma knife. Her recovery has been both better and worse than I expected. She ran a low grade fever and had some significant pain for a few days after the surgery. Both were easily handled with regular Tylenol and an occasional dose of Lortab. I had to bribe her a couple of times to take the Lortab. Just call me the kiddie drug dealer of our neighborhood. “Here little girl…try this and I’ll go buy you a LaLaLoopsy doll!”

I anticipated fever and pain. But, the last couple of days, she’s had an upset stomach, most likely from the antibiotic she was prescribed by the doctor to reduce the risk of infection in the open wounds in her throat. And she is tired, much more tired than I expected her to be. Yesterday, she didn’t leave the bedroom except for a quick car ride with Steve to my mom’s house. She has only left the house twice since Tuesday. I’m sure that a lot of her weariness is from her lack of eating. Tonight, at last, she is actually playing with some of her ponies and using her “pretend voices” for all the characters. So, maybe we’ve turned a corner and tomorrow will be a better day.

I am much more weary than I thought I’d be. Part of that is worry and part of it is that Friday morning, I twisted my back horribly and spent the better part of two days in bed in some pretty rough pain. Yeah, I have wonderful timing. I thought that during Abigail’s recovery I would be super-productive – well, that just didn’t happen. But, this is a new week, a new month, a new beginning.

Proud Beyond Words

2012-03-12T14:47:21Z

This is the face of a child with ADHD. I have not blogged about it too much (more hints and innuendo than directly discussing it), not because I’m bothered by it, but because she has specific concerns about me blogging about her experiences. And, I respect her wishes on this. I’m completely and absolutely amazed by her bravery and her ability to confront this. Because she has some other diagnostic things going on (I know, again with the vagueness), she deeply feels the stigma (and yes, there is one…believe me there is) that goes with her ADHD.

I don’t feel I’m breaking her confidences by telling you this story. If it turns out I am, I’ll take this post down.

This summer, Steve and I sat in the child neuropsychologist’s office and discussed Gracie’s test results. We received her diagnoses and some of the things were painful to hear. The news wasn’t all bad. Really, in hindsight, I don’t think any of the news was bad. She was seven and two weeks into the second grade when we tested her. The interesting part to me was the results of her aptitude tests. The doctor told us that her math skills (her weak point) were on a third grade level, her reading skills on a fourth grade, and her spelling skills were above a fifth grade level. Basically, the doctor said, she’s a seven-year-old who thinks like a ten-year-old. Which I think helps to explain last night.

Yesterday, Gracie was tired and angry and a whole bunch of other exhausting emotions. So, she sat down and started to write in her journal. I could see the anxiety falling away from her as the words poured out onto the paper. She came out a little while later and told me that she’d decided to write a book for children with ADHD to help them understand what they were feeling. The book, she says, is going to have sections on famous people with ADHD (Eleanor Roosevelt, Albert Einstein, Robin Williams, Beethoven) and sections on how the children may feel and a final section on what they can do about it.

It blows me away. I remember reading somewhere that the best way to help yourself feel better when you’re going through a difficult time is to help someone else. I hope more than anything that I teach my daughters that learning from whatever experiences life throws at you is important, but that taking that knowledge and helping others with it is the most amazing thing of all. I don’t know that I taught Gracie that – I think she just knows it instinctively. I can’t tell you how much I love that girl. I am proud to be her mother!

Aimless

2012-03-09T23:53:14Z

I feel aimless this morning….I don’t feel well and my mind is overrun with thinking about all kinds of things, both good and bad. Are you that way? When you have so many things to do, you’re not sure where to start so you just don’t start anything? This week has really thrown me for a loop. We’re still trying to jump through hoops with doctors to get Gracie some help with her focusing problems. I’m crazily nervous about Abigail’s surgery in a couple of weeks. I’m trying to figure out how we’re going to juggle plumbers and contractors and large amounts of upheaval. But, in ten days, the girls start Spring Break and I’m taking the entire week off of work. I am so excited that I’m counting the hours! So, those are the things that are floating around in my head. I actually took a nap this morning, something I can count on one hand the times that I’ve done in my adult life. It felt good and I’ve felt slightly less aimless this afternoon.

I’m rambling and this probably sounds very stream of consciousness but that’s the way my brain is working today, apparently!

I’ve started Project 365 at least four times in the last five years. And, generally I make it through the first three or four months taking pictures and only the first few weeks documenting the pictures and printing them out. I realized last year that this is completely okay. Yes, I fail at the project. epically. But, here’s the thing, I have at least a few weeks out of our year documented. And that is better than nothing. So, just call me the Slacker Project 365er! So, in that vein, I started again this year. And, knock on wood, with my new “embrace the failure” attitude, I’m doing better than I have most years! I’m using Weeds and Wildflowers Every{day} Life Pages. I’m enjoying it because I don’t really have to think about photo layouts or embellishments at all. All I have to do is drag the pictures in and journal. Years ago, I would have thought this was cheating. What can I say? I was an idiot – I missed the point entirely! This makes it so much easier and I’m actually accomplishing something! And, strangely enough, I’m scrapping other pages because I’ve freed myself up from worrying about Project 365 pages. I remember someone somewhere saying long ago that if scrapbooking became too much like work then you were doing something wrong. And, that’s where I was for a long time….it felt like a chore… But, between the Every{day} Life Pages and switching to using 3-ring binders for my albums so I don’t have to scrap chronologically, I’m actually enjoying this hobby of mine again.

Anyway, how this for a random post! Here are a few of my 2012 Every{day} Life layouts…I’ve even had a few printed already and they’re in my album. Hooray for doing something that doesn’t feel aimless!

A Little Bit Late

2012-03-08T12:51:11Z

Gracie was a little late to choir yesterday. Mostly because ten minutes before we were supposed to be there, she was doing this:

Sometimes, it feels like we have so much going on between work and school and scouts and piano and soccer and choir and church and reading and reading and laundry and dinner and reading some more that there’s not enough time to stop and smell the salt air. Yesterday, we took the time. I sat on the sand and took a hundred deep breaths and the girls ran and shrieked at the cold water. The laughed and played and found treasures.

And I watched the pelicans searching for their dinner

I don’t like to be late for things (Steve is laughing manically as he reads this…I am perpetually late!), really, I don’t. But sometimes, it just might be worth it.

Celebrating

2012-03-06T03:49:04Z

We celebrated my youngest niece’s third birthday this weekend at my grandfather’s farm. It was a fantabulous day and the party was over-the-top adorable. I have tons of pictures and tons of words but no energy tonight. I have a cold and I’ve run from pillar to post back to pillar today. But, as I was looking through all the images from the weekend, this one made me smile and I wanted to share it. It makes me happy to look at it. You know for all my talk about taking pictures to preserve memories and to have a documented history for my girls, the truth is, the real reason I take pictures is for moments like these. On my best days my pictures make me happy. But, on my worst days, they add a ray of joy to even the greyest of hours. Yep, the memories, and the history, and the legacy are all wonderful amazing things. The joy, though, when I need it most, is the reason my camera is always close.

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

2012-03-04T17:13:11Z

I think it’s pretty obvious that I’ll use any excuse to celebrate with my girls. I decided long ago that just celebrating birthdays wouldn’t give me enough opportunities to throw all the parties that I want to throw. Two kids at roughly twelve birthday parties each (and I know the twelve might be stretching it…I’m thinking 12-year-old Gracie might not want a unicorn and rainbow party, but I’m wishful thinking) gives me only 25 parties. Gracie doesn’t really “do” parties – she’d rather just hang out at home and Abigail’s parties are generally these huge backyard affairs that we have ever two years, because it takes twenty-three months to recover from them. So, what’s a mom who loves to plan parties to do when she doesn’t have enough parties to plan?

Well, I figured I had two options. 1)Have about thirty more children or 2)Celebrate everything! I bet you can figure which option won, can’t you?

Friday was Dr. Seuss’ birthday and we celebrated with Seussisms all day long (“A person’s a person no matter how small! The people who mind don’t matter and the people who mind don’t matter!”) and for dinner, we had green deviled eggs and ham sliders. The ham slider recipe was from Annie’s Eats. They were so good, we’re having them for dinner again tonight! I made Cat In The Hat Cupcake Push Pops – they didn’t turn out was cute as I’d have liked, but the girls loves them and I think that’s all the matters! I decorated with some Dr. Seuss bulletin board cut-outs and Gracie & Abigail laughed out loud when they walked into the kitchen. Over dinner I told them some Dr. Seuss trivia (that Theodor Seuss Geisel didn’t have any children of his own and in fact wasn’t even particularly fond of children).

Was it a little bit of work? Sure, but not much more than a regular dinner and the smiles on the girls’ faces made it all worthwhile.

Be Your Best

2012-03-02T11:48:15Z

Yesterday, Gracie was one of the “Positive People of the Day” at school. Abigail and I went to the media room to watch her deliver the positive thought for the day on the school’s television.

She looks thrilled, doesn’t she?

She did a great job. Her thought for the day was “be your best”. It was just the thing I needed to hear. I’ve been struggling lately with that all too familiar feeling of never doing anything well. I usually feel this way when I have so much on my plate that I never end up finishing anything. Steve and I always try to teach the girls that all we expect of them is that they try. It’s a lesson I apparently needed to learn myself and, as usual, it’s my daughters who teach me!

Making It Across To The Other Side

2012-03-02T04:23:03Z

It’s March. I’m happy…spring, at least for us along the Gulf Coast is almost here. I try every year to embrace the mild winter we have here. I really, really try. I’m just not cut out for winter, even mild ones. I know how ridiculous that sounds as I sit here in my 65 degree winter weather. Trust me I know how ridiculous it sounds.

It’s March and I’m glad. But….Of course, there’s a but. And here it is. March may be coming in like a lion and out like a lamb, but this March is going to be a bear to make it through.

There are parts of the month that I’m very excited about. I’ll see my family this weekend and celebrate my youngest niece’s birthday. Spring break is in two weeks and I’m looking forward to spending the week with my babies.

Between that fun, though, we’re replacing all the piping in the house and our insurance company is replacing all the flooring in the house. We had a leak in a wall in the kitchen and it managed to cause enough damage to warrant replacing all the carpet and wood flooring in the entire house. When we’re all done, it will be wonderful, but it’s going to be chaotic for a while! And, in the middle of all of that, Abigail will be having her tonsils and adenoids removed. I am not looking forward to that at all. Again, once it’s over, it will be a good thing, but the idea of passing my sweet crazy girl off to a surgeon fills me with worry.

So, I’ll make my way through this month, enjoying all the good things these four weeks will offer, but mostly, I just want to make it across to the other side of April with all the worry and chaos (at least for now) behind us!

Be The Change

2012-02-27T16:15:49Z

There are so many things I want to change in my life right now. Not the big stuff…I’m not going to change religions, leave my family, and head off to Borneo. It’s the little things…making the girls’ lunches the night before, finding some devotional time that’s not peppered with incessant questions from everyone in my life, reducing the amount of “stuff” that we have, trying hard to reach my goals. Yes, it’s all little stuff but I think making those small changes could make a big difference in my life as a wife, a mother, a sister, a friend, an employee.

The Lorax says “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not!”

And I do care. I care an awful lot.

Krewe de Preschool

2012-02-26T15:17:47Z

Mardi Gras is a pretty big deal around here. This year, we had a lot going on and didn’t make it to any parades except for this one at Abigail’s preschool. It was supposed to be in front of the community center, but the weather was rough, so we had it in our newly re-opened sanctuary. Yes, that would be one of the things I love about our church – the sanctuary was closed for several months for repairs and the first event that was held in it after it reopens was a preschool Mardi Gras parade!

Abigail was, of course, ridiculously cute. And I can add reason number 425,000,000 to why I love my Silhouette cutting machine. She’d been sick the entire week and I only remembered thirty minutes before school that she was having the parade. I wanted her to have something festive to wear (like that matters. at all. but I am me which means ten minutes before we needed to leave I was grasping at straws) and luckily I found an old purple shirt of Gracie’s. I pulled out my Silhouette, found a mask design, pulled out some white transfer material, and voila! a Mardi Gras t-shirt. kind of….

The parade may not have had huge floats or moon pies or marching bands, but it definitely made up for that in sheer sweetness.

I love this bead-throwing girl!

Senses

2012-02-20T19:17:24Z

I woke up suddenly at 3:00 a.m., a full hour before my alarm was set to annoy me with its chirping. I tried to figure out which of my senses was responsible for my jolted awakening.

I could hear Ella Bella, our sheltie, tippy tapping across the kitchen floor and then her quiet whine begging to be let out, usually a sign that there’s an possum lurking on the other side of the fence in the back yard waiting to torment her. But, I didn’t think that was why I was awake…I’m usually a fairly deep sleeper and there’s the whole single-sided deafness thing I have going on, so it’s rare that a noise, particularly one as subtle as a dog’s nails clicking on wood would rouse me from sleep.

I could smell Abigail’s breath, next to me, as she snored softly. It wasn’t exactly sweet…she is not an infant anymore and her night-time breath is not the sweetness of milk and angel and kisses, but it wasn’t exactly strong enough to pull me from my dreams.

I could feel the tightness in my back as I stretched, but it was more the soreness of a productive weekend than any kind of wrench from sleep pain.

I couldn’t remember any dream that had startled me. I just shrugged it off to something I couldn’t explain and got up and let Ella Bella out, then came back to bed to sleep for a few more minutes. As I pulled the covers back up, I leaned over and kissed Abigail’s forehead and instantly realized that the sense that woke me up wasn’t might sense of sight or smell or hearing or touch or taste. It was my sense of motherhood, that thing when I was younger that I feared I would never have, that mystical ability to sense, on a primal level, when something is wrong with your child. Abigail had a fever, thankfully not a very high one, but enough to alert my senses and wake me up. Before I was a mom, I was sure that I would never, ever have that instinct about my own children. Basically, because I’m clueless and generally non-observant. The running joke in my family was that I would have a baby and leave her somewhere: the shopping cart at the market, a bench at the park, waiting on the platform at a train station. My absent-mindedness is something of a legend in my family. In spite of that, or perhaps because of it (am I hyper-vigilant because I’m so sure I’m going to do something forgetful that will hurt them), I do instinctually know when something is wrong with my babies. And, I wouldn’t have it any other way, even when it robs me of an hour of sleep!

Ivy Green

2012-02-16T22:49:45Z

Tonight, Steve and the girls and I are going to watch The Miracle Worker. You remember the movie, don’t you? The one about Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller with the climatic scene at the pump. W*A*T*E*R.

Gracie has an obsession with Helen Keller. She read her first Helen Keller biography when she was in kindergarten and since then, she’s read every book she can find about Hellen Keller that’s in her reading level. She was Helen Keller for Halloween this year. Yes, you read that correctly. My child is nothing if not unique.

This summer the girls and I headed up to Florence, Alabama to meet my sister and her girls to visit a place I read about on the internet. Oh, there’s a story there, but I’ll save it for later. Anyway, my sister arrived at the hotel before we did. When we were about twenty minutes away, she called and said, “Guess who was born just a few miles away?” For the life of me, I could not figure it out. When she told me it was Helen Keller (she was born in Tuscumbia), I was thrilled. Gracie was beyond thrilled. The next morning, even though we had big plans, we worked our schedule out so we could make a visit to Ivy Green, the home where Helen was born and the home where Annie Sullivan came and broke through the little girl’s disabilities and opened up the world of communication to her.

The tour was an absolute treat. I love historical sites anyway, but watching Gracie completely engrossed in everything about the house and the grounds was simply wonderful. The other three girls really enjoyed it, too!

Sometimes, it’s the completely unexpected adventures that turn out to be the best!

There was a framed Helen Keller quote in the living room at Ivy Green. It was such a beautiful sentiment, I thought I’d share it with you:

“They took away what should have been my eyes,

But I remembered Milton’s Paradise.

They took away what should have been my ears,

Beethoven came and wiped away my tears.

They took away what should have been my tongue,

But I talked with God when I was young.

He would not let them take away my soul…

Possessing that, I still possess the whole.”

Really, I don’t think I could ask for a better hero for my daughter to have!

Winter

2012-02-07T20:47:55Z

This winter has been unbelievably mild. Granted, it’s not like we have harsh winters here anyway, but even by our standards, we’ve had unseasonably warm weather. Right now, I’m sitting on the couch with the doors open and the sun streaming through the windows. We’ve had a day or two of sub-sixty degree weather, but for the most part, the temp has hovered around seventy. The girls seem to find peace and comfort at the beach just like I do, so we’ve spent a lot of time walking the shore and playing in the water over the last couple of months. (They play in the water a lot more than I do…even with seventy degree weather, the water still feels chilly to me!)

After piano lessons a couple of weeks ago, we headed down to the pass and played on the rocks. This is one of their favorite places to go. I enjoy it……the beach feels massive here because there’s water on both sides. It makes me feel really small and insignificant which I firmly believe is good for your soul. Because if you feel small and insignificant, how can your problems be anything but small? This time of year, the beach is pretty much deserted, a true secret paradise.

Enough talking…here are the pictures form our outing…I think we’ll be heading out again very soon!

Looking west across the pass…

Cool Things We’ve Done…Blueberry Buttermilk Breakfast Bake

2012-02-05T19:10:55Z

Here’s another Pinterest recipe that we tried. The original recipe is from Alexandra’s Kitchen (link). I pinned it a few weeks ago and finally, this week I managed to pick up a lemon and some blueberries from Publix. I am the world’s worst about forgetting one crucial ingredient for a recipe and then becoming completely frustrated and swearing I’m never, ever, ever going to make anything with more than two ingredients again. Anyway, Gracie woke up early this morning and she helped me whip this up and get it the oven. This was certainly a kid friendly recipe. Gracie even enjoyed zesting the lemon but her favorite part was tossing the blueberries with the flour – I suggest if you’re doing this with children to put the blueberries and flour in a bowl and cover it with some kind of plastic wrap and then let the child toss to cover. ‘Cause, otherwise, you might or might not end up with blueberries and flour all over the floor. On second thought, if you’re doing this with children or you’re clumsier than the average person (read, me), you might want to do that.

As usual, we were running late for church this morning. Anyone surprised? I pulled this out of the oven just as we were rushing out the door and left it on the stovetop to cool while we were gone. When we got back, I cut into it, took one bite and declared to to Steve that I am never making blueberry muffins again. never. ever. ever (or until I don’t have the ingredients for this on hand and am stuck making the more instantaneously gratifying but less satisfying Duncan Hines box method)

I truly think the buttermilk makes this recipe. I love cooking with buttermilk…the tartness just takes the sweetness of recipes like this to an amazing level. On a completely different note, I do not like to drink buttermilk. My grandfather, who drinks it like water, had a glass on the table and I picked it up and took a swig thinking it was something else, and I almost choked. That’s another story for another time. Let’s just say that some things that I bake with are not good on their own…I’ll just put shortening and buttermilk on that list for now.

Okay, enough chitter chatter. Here’s the recipe:

The Stuff You Need:

½ cup unsalted butter
1 tsp. lemon zest
1/2 tsp. pure lemon extract
1 cup sugar with 2 tablespoons reserved
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla
2 cups flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. kosher salt
1 pint fresh blueberries
½ cup buttermilk

The Things You Need To Do:

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Cream together butter, lemon zest, lemon extract, and all but the reserved sugar until light and fluffy.
2. Add the egg and vanilla and beat until combined.
3. Toss the blueberries with ¼ cup of the flour (use the method I talked about above unless you want blueberries all over your floor!)
4. Stir together the rest of the flour, the baking powder and the salt.
5. Add the flour mixture to the batter a little at a time, alternating with the buttermilk.
6. Fold in the blueberries.
7. Grease a 9-inch square baking pan with unsalted butter. Spread batter into pan. Sprinkle batter with remaining two tablespoons of sugar. Bake for 40-45 minutes.
8. Let it cool before serving (I cooled mine for about an hour and it was perfect, but I don't know if I'd have had that much discipline if we'd actually been in the house while it was cooling!)

Enjoy!

The only thing that would have made this more delicious would have been if I’d used some blueberries straight from my grandfather’s farm, but I’ll have to wait until early summer for that.

Just look at that yumminess!

Technorati Tags: Blueberry Buttermilk Breakfast Cake,cool pinterest things we've done

Mercedes, Love, and Mickey Mouse

2012-02-05T13:29:01Z

I love this girl. so much. She is funny and goofy and stubborn and kind and sweet. She is closest in age of all the cousins to Gracie and probably gets her more than anyone. They fight light cats in a bathtub sometimes, but I’ve seen Emmie be kind to Gracie when Gracie needs it if even she doesn’t deserve kindness. Emmie’s laugh is contagious. And, she loves my homemade projects more than anyone else in the entire world.

I made these shirt for the girls for Christmas for our upcoming Disney trip. Peace, Love, and Mickey Mouse just seemed like a good theme for our visit (what? You don’t have themes for your trips?). When Emmie opened her box she smiled and said thank you. Even though it was obvious they all four liked their matching shirts, none of the girls were exactly dancing around the room. They were shirts after all, not American Girl doll clothes or horse accessories. My sister quietly said to Emmie, “Did you know that’s an Aunt Daffy shirt?” and Emmie’s face lit up. “You made it?” she asked and the shirt, in her mind, was instantly elevated to something else entirely. I’ve made her t-shirts using whatever is my craft medium of the time since she was a little bitty girl. She is sometimes the reason I keep crafting, just to see that smile on her face when I give her an Aunt Daffy shirt. Yep, I love that girl.

When the girls got dressed that morning, they looked so cute! I loved how Emmie added her Happy Birthday pin over the peace sign on her shirt. It looked great! I was particularly worried that morning because Abigail’s temperature was back up really high again and she just looked very sick. Steve decided to take her to the urgent care clinic in Orlando (her second visit in four days). I was more than a little stressed, but I still noticed how cute the girls looked in their shirts.

It wasn’t until later in the afternoon, after Abigail returned from the doctor with a new antibiotic and a confirmation that nothing was seriously wrong, that I learned the secret of the pin over the peace sign on Emmie’s shirt. Do you see it in the picture? Yep! You see it. I put the peace sign upside down on her shirt. Emmie’s shirt said Mercedes. Love. Mickey Mouse. She had put the birthday pin on over the Mercedes sign because she knew I was worried about Abigail and she didn’t want me to be upset about her messed up shirt. See? Even my nine-year-old niece knows I have a perfectionist streak! Once she took the pin off, I just laughed and laughed and laughed some more. I have issues with peace signs all the time. I can never, ever, remember if the lines point up or down. But, really, the peace sign isn’t the important symbol on this shirt. And neither is the mouse ear symbol. The important symbol on all their shirts is the heart. I am so blessed to love and be loved by all four of these girls. Little girls who love me enough to proudly wear a Mercedes, Love, and Mickey Mouse shirt.

I know why the Disney bird sings

2012-02-03T03:20:42Z

I am pretty sure I am the only person in the entire history of the universe who dreads going to Disney World. I know I am an abomination, but I just can’t help it.

We’d been planning a trip to Orlando with my sister and her family for almost two years. One thing or another kept getting in the way, but finally, finally, we all got our acts together and made the trek down to the Mecca of commercialism in January.

I was thrilled to be taking a vacation and over the moon about getting to spend some time with my sister and her family. But, honestly, I was not excited about Disney. I’m not even sure I can tell you why.

Part of me despises the whole “Oh, you have to take your children to Disney because it is the most magical, beautiful place on Earth.” People, I’ve watched the sun come up over the Irish countryside and I’ve climbed to the top of El Castillo at Chichen Itza. I have felt the mist from the English Channel brush my face on the ferry between Dover and Calais. You can’t convince me that the slightly freakish It’s A Small World puppets can compete with any of that.

Then there’s the silly argument that went on in my head debating the idea of taking Gracie, who hates crowds, loud noises, feeling out of control to a place full of tons of people, lot of strange noises where she’s at the mercy of snaking lines (albeit beautifully designed snaking lines).

Honestly, though, I think what I was dreading most was failing. Something about a trip to Disney just sets you up with so many expectations. And I just knew that the trip couldn’t possibly live up to everyone’s expectations. Steve, who was looking forward to having fun with his girls and relaxing and enjoying family time. Abigail who was so excited about going to Cinderella’s castle that she could not contain herself for a month before we left. Gracie who wanted to visit every single country at Epcot. And me. I ‘m not sure what I expected. I think mostly I expected to be let down. Turns out, not a single one of our expectations were met. Steve didn’t get to spend much time relaxing at all. Gracie didn’t visit a single country and Epcot. Abigail didn’t get to go inside Cinderella’s castle because she was sick and by the time she felt well enough to visit the Magic Kingdom, the castle was closed. And, me, well I wasn’t let down. Steve may not have relaxed, but he did ride the teacups with his girls and laughed until he could barely talk. Gracie didn’t visit any country in Epcot, but she got over her fear and rode the Kali River Rapids at Animal Kingdom at least ten times. Abigail didn’t see the castle but she discovered a passion for saving endangered animals after rescuing a baby elephant from poachers on the Safari trip.

While we were waiting for the bus our first day in Orlando, I spied this little bird hopping around as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As I watched him flit from one spot of the bus stop to another, looking for whatever crumbs anyone may have dropped, I started to relax and let the joy of being with my family wash over me. Disney may not be the most beautiful, magical place in the world, but it certainly does have a magic all its own and who was I to resist.

What once was lost now is found

2012-02-02T13:03:51Z

It’s a dreary first day of February here…the rain has been steadily tap, tap, tapping on the roof for hours. It’s not cold; it’s not hot; it’s just miserable. But, there’s a pot of curried pumpkin soup on the stove (yum) and Valentine’s Puppy Chow cooling on sheets of wax paper in the kitchen. Abigail and I are taking a sick day from church tonight (she’s running a slight fever and I’ve pulled my back out yet again). As gray as the day is though, I am so glad that it’s February. I am glad to say goodbye to January.

The month certainly wasn’t without its high points. We took our first trip to Disney with the added bonus of going with my sister and her family. Gracie celebrated her 8th birthday in grand style. We celebrated Chinese New Year and Gracie brought home a good report card. We went to the beach several times and had a wonderful dinner at my favorite restaurant with some dear friends. Not much to complain about.

Still, as delightful as parts of January were, there were still parts that tried my very patience. Like Monday morning. I woke up and, as I always do, booted up my server so I could do some database work. Or at least I tried to boot the server. Two seconds after I pushed the power button, a message flashed on the black screen: “No boot device available.” Sigh. Unfortunately, missing boot drives are bad news. Fortunately, we live in an amazing time, particularly for wannabe computer repair techs with access to Google. I found a cool little universal drive adapter that lets you pull out a hard drive and hook it up to a USB port. I ordered it from Amazon and it arrived on Tuesday. I pulled both drives out of the dead server and tested them. Luckily, one of the drives was just fine. Unfortunately, the other one still wasn’t recognized. I am not the best at backing up my data. I know, I know, believe me I know. Most of my data is backed up in different locations, but it’s not exactly systematic and there was information on that drive that I really would have liked to have back, mostly pictures of the girls. So, yesterday, I went on a quest and after tons of on-line searching and talking with Seagate (the manufacturer of the drive), I was able to restore the partition on the drive and get the data back. Yay! Was it worth all that trouble? I’d say definitely. I found a slew of pictures that I’d forgotten all about. Looking through the folders on the drive last night was taking a wonderful walk through my memories of the last few years. Sometimes, losing things is the best way to find them again.

This picture is Gracie a couple of weeks before she started kindergarten. I remember the simplicity of that summer…months without a schedule…the time before school and all its scheduling started, the summer before my father got sick. It was a blissful time and it felt good last night to pull this picture up and remember it and to remind myself that life is not always as hectic as it feels now.

King Cake

2012-01-14T21:02:34Z

Mardi Gras season is in full swing! Fat Tuesday is on February 21st this year and I’m sure I’ll take the girls to at least one parade. Here’s a little known fact about me: I was born in New Orleans and lived there until I was four. For years, I believed that I was in an actual Mardi Gras parade. I distinctly remember walking up and down the streets of downtown New Orleans. Turns out, what I actually remembered was a parade at my preschool where we marched around the building. Oh well. I do remember my sister finding the baby in the king cake when she was two and thinking it was a huge deal and she was going to have good luck for life or possibly get some amazing present.

For the last few years, I’ve made my dad’s jambalaya on Fat Tuesday and we’ve had some kind of King Cake for dessert. I’ve tried cakes from the bakery, cakes from mixes, and last year, I tried one from scratch. It turned out really, really good. The cake part was the perfect texture and I really liked the filling. (Steve wasn’t too big a fan of the filling, so this year I might try a different type)

I let Abigail and her friend help me make it and they had a great time. I think some of the best childhood memories are made in the kitchen. I used to love my Daddy make homemade pasta and string it up across the kitchen to dry.

Here’s the recipe that I used (modified slightly from Taste of Home):

Ingredients

1 package of active dry yeast

1/2 cup warm milk

1/3 cup butter-flavored shortening

1/3 cup sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 egg

4 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 cans of almond cake and pastry filling

For the glaze:

3 cups of powdered sugar

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

3 to 4 tablespoons water

Purple, green and gold sugar for decorating – to make the sugars, I just used white sparkling sugar and a little food coloring to make the colors I wanted. Finding purple, green, and gold sugar was difficult around here for some reason!

Directions

In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water. Add the milk, shortening, sugar, salt, egg and 2 cups of the flour. Beat on medium speed until smooth. Stir in enough remaining flour to form a soft dough (dough will be sticky).

Turn onto a floured surface; knead until smooth (about 6 minutes). Place in a greased bowl, turning once to grease top. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour.

Punch dough down. Turn onto a lightly floured surface; divide in half. Roll one portion into a 16-in. x 10-in. rectangle. Spread almond filling to within 1/2 in. of edges. Roll up jelly-roll style, starting with a long side; pinch seam to seal. Place seam side down on a greased baking sheet; pinch ends together to form a ring. Repeat with remaining dough and filling. Cover and let rise until doubled, about 1 hour.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on a wire rack. For glaze, combine the confectioners' sugar, vanilla and enough water to achieve desired consistency. Spread over cooled cakes. Sprinkle with colored sugars.

Cool Things We’ve Done–Valentine’s Day

2012-01-14T17:11:32Z

So, I find all these awesome things on Pinterest and on craft and food blogs that I read and in magazines at the check-out line in Publix. I don’t try all of them (really, I’d have to be ten people with five lifetimes each to be able to complete even of 1/3 of the things I’d like to try). But, the girls and I do try new things each month. Sometimes, they turn out wonderfully and sometimes, well not so much (see these). I thought I’d start posting my results with our experiments, mostly so you can see what happens when real people attempt some of the crafts/recipes that are all over the web and in magazines.

Last year, the girls and I made their school Valentines. I can’t tell you how much fun we had making them and I got the added bonus of having willing participants for a mini photo session so we could get the pictures for Gracie’s cards.

I found the idea for Abigail’s cards at Family Fun. They were fairly straightforward. The hardest part was finding the shovels. I found them at Giant Party Store. They turned out cute and Abigail enjoyed helping to make them.

I found the idea for Gracie’s cards here. I showed them to Gracie and she was so excited to try them. So, after ballet one day, I changed the girls into their heart shirts and we tried to get just the right picture at the right angle. The trick is to make sure that your little valentine is holding her hand out far enough that you get the illusion of depth and also make sure that her hand is not in front of her face. Luckily, we got this one:

Then, it was just a matter of printing them out at 4X6 and cutting a slit for the the sucker to go through. We mounted them on card stock to give them a little more stability. This was our end result.

Gracie was thrilled to take those cards into school. I couldn’t have been happier with the way they turned out. Sometimes, trying new things ends up with great results! I’m not sure what we’re going to do this year for Valentines. I think it will be hard to top last year’s, but I have a couple of ideas that might work!

Slowly

2012-01-04T03:13:23Z

“Hurry!” I say to them as we’re rushing out the door for anything you choose: school, scouts, church, piano, fun at the park. “Please.Come.On!” I insist, louder, my voice trilling up to something akin to a screech. “NOW!” and I have blown past screeching to unadulterated yelling. They hurry now, realizing that I am mad. Their faces show the dread of what follows my yelling; my temper is not pretty, particularly when I feel impatience rising up in me, vile and ugly. I do not like this me, angry and hurried, harried and haggard. I long to move slower. I keep thinking, “Ten minutes. If there were just ten extra minutes, we would be on time. all day. Why are we always late? Why are we always rushing?” I know the answer, know it like I know the freckles sprinkled across Abigail’s nose and the shape of the café au lait spot on Gracie’s calf. We are always rushing not because we need ten more minutes. We are rushing because I haven’t engaged with the girls until seconds before it’s time to leave. I tell them, “Get your shoes! Brush your hair! Don’t forget your teeth!” I bark these orders absent-mindedly while I answer one more email, type one more line of code, click one more link on Pinterest, like one more post on Facebook. And then I am surprised when I finally look up, pay attention to something other than myself, and they, these unfocused girls of mine, have done nothing that I have asked. I am mad at them for not listening I tell myself. Truthfully, the one who deserves my anger is me. We don’t need ten more minutes. They, we, me need ten minutes of undivided attention. They, we, me need to admit to me, us, the universe that multi-tasking is an oxymoron, something that would be more aptly titled do-nothing-well-and-everything-piss-poorly-tasking.

I flirt with an idea that is dancing around in the far corners of my brain, almost out of reach. What if I do one thing at a time and do it well? What if I stand with my daughters while they brush their teeth, help them, nurture them. Hello! Mother them. What if Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance could translate to Zen and the Art of Getting My Daughters Out the Door on Time. What if? What if? What if? No, I scoff at myself…I don’t have time to do that. I .don’t.have.time. A whisper of a conversation I had with an acquaintance tickles my memory. “How do you do everything?” she asks and I answer, in a moment of rare honesty. “I do lots of things, but I don’t do anything well.” I.don’t.have.time.

Maybe, just maybe I do have time. Time. Time to do things slowly. separately. well. Maybe if I have time I will have time. Maybe, just maybe I think to myself, it would be better to do less, but do it better. Maybe my Facebook page will lay dormant; maybe my Pinterest boards will be empty of the coolest craft that I never have time to do. Maybe, though, we’ll get out the door on time for anything and everything. And maybe the me, the hurried and harried, angry and haggard me that I do not like, maybe there won’t be any time left for her.

I stand with my girls, zipping them up in their puffy winter coats adorned with purple hearts and pink Peace signs. We are not late and I do not use words profane when the zippers get stuck in the nylon. I help Gracie with her backpack and Abigail with her shoes and when we can’t find one of her white tennis shoes, I do not feel my heart race and color flood my face; instead, I shrug and pull out the scruffy black Mary Jane’s that she’d rather wear anyway. I do not scream; I do not yell. We have time. Simple, beautiful, joyful time. As we count our God presents on the cold drive to school, I do not feel stressed. I chatter along with them as they shout out the presents God gave them today. “Church!” "The community center!” “Mrs. Murphy!” “Mommy!” “Abigail!” “Gracie!” “Hot Chocolate on a cold morning!” At the top of my list of God’s presents today is time, time enough to go slowly. I do have time.

Pony Power

2011-12-27T13:25:14Z

One of the things that has warmed my heart as Abigail has grown is her increasing love of her friends. She has always, always been a caring child, but now she’s reached the age where she’s learning to treasure her friendships. Kayla is one of her very best friends. They have known each other for years (their big sisters are the best of friends, too!) and it’s so much fun to watch them play and giggle together. Kayla had her birthday party last weekend and Abigail declared it to be the perfect party – good friends and pony rides – what more could you ask for?

When Abigail and I were talking about the party, she told me that she and Kayla have made up a game that they play on the playground at preschool. It’s called “Pony Power”. She didn’t share the details with me, but I can only imagine the two of them running around, playing their own special game. It makes me smile! I hope the two of them will be dear friends for years to come!

Abigail has decided that she wants a pony party for her next birthday. I think there were several little girls at the party who said the same thing! We’ll have to see what Daddy says about that next year!

The Morning After

2011-12-26T18:57:12Z

Even when I was a little girl, I was filled with both dread and excitement on Christmas Eve. Of course, I was excited for Santa to come and for all the joy of the day. But, I also didn’t want it all to end…the beauty of the season, the magic of the day, the excitement of looking forward to something. This feeling has lessened some over the years – I have so much to look forward to in January now – namely, Gracie’s birthday. As an adult I try to find the excitement and beauty in, if not every day, at least every season. Still, December 26th is generally not my favorite day of the year!

This year, I am truly enjoying the morning after. I have the day off from work (like really off – the office is closed, the bank is closed, everything is closed), my sister and her family are arriving this evening, and the girls and I just hanging out, watching TV and playing with the mountain of toys they received yesterday from Santa. I can’t remember the last time we felt this unencumbered and I must say, I’m loving it. We could certainly use more days like this!

Overall, our Christmas season was wonderful. There were some hiccups along the way, but they were small. I didn’t get to do as many things as I wanted – we still have boatloads of cookie-making supplies and boxes full of things to use to make Christmas crafts. We’ll get to what we get to and the craft supplies will certainly keep. We were able to spend the Christmas season together and isn’t that what really matters? We did manage to have a fantastic time with our Elf on the Shelf, Angelina Selena. We had such a good time with her that Gracie even cried when she had to go back to the North Pole on Christmas Eve. I’ll have to share some pictures of her antics with you soon – she brought many smiles to all of us this year.

I enjoyed spending a quiet Christmas Day with Steve and the girls. It wasn’t until about 11:00 a.m. that I realized that the girls didn’t get a single electronic toy. So, the day was spent with a lot of imaginative play. Gracie said her favorite gift was a wooden bluebird that Santa carved just for her (yes, that’s a blog post in itself). Abigail spent most of the day playing with the horse Santa brought for her doll. Gracie had a dice Skip-Bo game in her stocking; I can’t tell you how much fun we all had playing that.

My family came over for dinner – it was a good combination of old favorites and new treats. All in all, it was a great day.

I hope you all had a wonderful, wonderful Christmas full of blessings, smiles, and lots of hugs!

The Joy Project…or why I want to bang my head against a wall repeatedly

2011-12-03T04:42:47Z

Last night, about 8:30, I scowled at the clock. The day had slipped away me from again, lost in an endless array of code that didn’t work the way it should and therefore took twice as long as necessary to write, unexpected doctors’ visits, phone calls with my sister that were interrupted by my screaming children. The insanity was peppered with a few, less hectic moments…time spent recording a book for Steve to take on his trip. Although, honestly, that wasn’t all sunshine and roses…you can hear Abigail whining in the background of at least two of the pages that Gracie is reading. Dinner was supposed to be the slow-roasted peppered beef sandwiches that Steve loves so much, but instead turned into a later than usual meal of chicken patties. The house was in chaos, the victim of the girls having too much unsupervised time (see code that takes too long to write). By 8:30, I wanted to drift off to sleep. But, it was December 1st. And I had made a promise to myself and to the girls. This year we are going to do an Advent activity each day. Yeah, if there’s a Advent slacker club, I’m the president. But, I got my act together, gathered my Bible and the craft supplies we needed and sat down with the girls. I’m using the eBook Truth in the Tinsel this year – it looks like it’s going to be fantastic and I like that so much of it is planned out for me, right down to the supplies you need for the crafts.

It was a wonderful, moving, joy-filled time, learning about Jesus and creating a sweet little craft. Yeah, right. Maybe your Advent celebration time goes like that. Ours was an unmitigated disaster. I was tired, impatient, and annoyed. Gracie does not do well with crafts late at night. She gets frustrated with scissors and glue even when she’s well-rested and happy, but night-time crafting sends her over the age. By the time she’d made two cuts with her blunt-edged scissors, she was perilously close to losing it. Abigail said to her, “Gracie, don’t worry about what it looks like – just have fun!” (Love that girl!) Gracie said, “I’m about to lose my temper with all this having fun!” That when I committed the cardinal sin; I laughed. Loudly. At Gracie. At least, that’s how she felt. I tried to explain why I was laughing to her, but the damage was already done. She dissolved into a puddle of tears and angry kicks. It was not pretty. Abigail finished her ornament while Gracie screamed in her bedroom as tears from my eyes splattered on the red and orange tissue paper we were using to make the “flame” for our candle ornaments. Gracie finally came out of her room with tear-swollen eyes and finished hers, a little sob escaping her mouth occasionally. Hardly the picture of Advent togetherness that I was painting in my mind. But, after the girls finally settled down to sleep, I sat in the still quiet of the living room and looked over at the candle ornaments they’d made hanging haphazardly on their little purple Christmas tree and I promised to try again today. Knowing that Gracie does better earlier in the day, we’ll do the craft part at least in the afternoon. Hopefully, that will help. Even if it doesn’t, though, we’re going to keep trying. Because in the long run, even if it’s difficult, joy and love are worth it.

De-Scrooging

2011-11-27T23:17:59Z

I haven’t felt like myself for the last few months. Not all the time but often enough that I feel slightly off-kilter. It’s not a physical thing – I don’t feel bad. In fact, except for a back pain that rears its head a couple of times a year, I feel really good. It’s more of an emotional thing and I’m not quite sure how to describe it except that I am mad a lot more often than I usually am. My feelings get hurt a lot easier than they usually do. Sometimes, I feel alienated. This all feels bizarre to type out, mostly because when I look back at my blog posts and Facebook entries over the last several months, they appear, at least for the most part, joyful. And I have felt joyful, believe me I have. The thing is, though, that for most of my life, joy has come naturally to me. Now, joy feels like something I have to hunt down and hold on to for dear life. Does that make sense?

I suppose this is in some ways understandable. It’s been a rough six months for us. No really big things, just a lot of little things that sometimes feel like they’re weighing me down. I’ve been working. a lot. I enjoy my work; I honestly do. But I’ve had more deadlines in the last few months than usual and I sometimes feel like I’m using all of my energy treading water. I feel like I’m lagging at work and that makes me feel guilty. Steve and I are teaching Wednesday bible study classes at church. We were volunteers last year – the format is different this year, so instead of just being there, we’re actually teaching (he’s got 1st and 2nd graders and I’ve got 4th and 5th graders). I love this new format; I feel like I’m able to get to know the children so much better this way. The amazing children’s director does all the work for us, so basically we just have to show up on Wednesday and be enthusiastic and engaged. I have a wonderful co-teacher, so really I only have to be half enthusiastic and half engaged. Sometimes, it’s a struggle for me on Wednesdays and that makes me feel guilty. For the second year, I am Gracie’s Girl Scout leader. Last year we had ten girls that were between the ages of 5 1/2 and 6 1/2 and three leaders. This year we have eighteen girls between the ages of barely 5 and almost eight and three leaders. I have amazing co-leaders. But, sometimes I feel overwhelmed, particularly when I beg for help with something and I get shrugged shoulders. Sometimes, I just want to quit and that makes me feel guilty.

I’ve documented Abigail’s struggles at night with what may or may not be nocturnal seizures. She had her sleep study two weeks ago and we get the results on December 9th. The neurologist’s office thinks that it’s unlikely to be seizure activity – she may have a nocturnal movement disorder, sleep apnea, or my favorite: benign nocturnal mycolonic jerks. It’s been more than two months since all this started and honestly, I’m more tired than worried and that makes me feel guilty.

What I have not documented very well is Gracie’s struggles over the last few months. She had some trouble socially at the end of first grade and some school tests that she had over the summer led us to a child neuropsychologist. She ended up with multiple diagnoses that somewhat go hand in hand. She has attention deficit disorder, an anxiety disorder, and a pervasive developmental disorder (meaning she falls on the autism spectrum somewhere). All of these are mild and none of them should prevent her from being successful at whatever she wants to do in her life. In the summer Steve, Gracie, and I worked really, really hard on some behavior modification to help her with her focusing and on her outbursts. Honestly, it was extremely difficult but it paid off big time. Gracie was doing really, really well. The last few weeks, though, we’ve seen some backsliding. I think the reason for this is because I’ve been so focused on Abigail and everything else in my life that I haven’t been working as diligently with Gracie and that makes me feel guilty. It’s just so very, very hard. There were parts of this summer that were very dark for me – Gracie lost friends and I lost friends. I feel like I can’t talk openly about the things that go on with Gracie because I’m terrified of her being ostracized even more than she already is. If she had physical challenges, she would be welcomed with open arms. Since her problems are behavioral and emotional, sometimes I feel like people think she’s contagious. Please, if you’re reading this and you’ve thought twice about including my child, please, please, please reconsider. The vast majority of the time, her trouble happens at home or when she’s with me. She is able to keep it together until she sees me. I promise you, too, that she will not give what she has to your child. Honest.

So, all of this guilt and angst and worry seems to have piled up for me over the last several months and I don’t really like who I am right now. I can’t change most of the circumstances that have contributed to the way I feel. But, I can change how I react. I have felt sad and angry and lonely and maybe even a bit bitter. That stops now. Right now. Joy and happiness and thankfulness may feel elusive right now. But I am going to choose them. I’m going to pray every day for God to help me see my cup is half full, really more than half full - it’s running over with blessings. I’m going to let my guilt go and embrace my failures. I.am.happy.starting.now.

Before I Forget

2011-11-25T15:52:00Z

When Abigail was two, she started calling Chik-Fil-A Chick-a-Lay. She continued this until she was four. Of course, we all thought it was cute, so we called it Chick-a-Lay, too. That is, until a few months ago when Abigail firmly corrected me. “Mama, it’s not Chick-a-Lay, it’s CHICK, FIL, AAAAAAA.” I laughed, but felt a little twinge of sadness that she was starting to lose some of her babyisms.

I realized yesterday that I’m starting to forget some of her Abigailisms…those things that she says that are so cute and funny that I swear I’ll remember them always. Apparently, my memory it not all that I think it is. And I want to remember. Always remember. The only way I know to do that is to write it down. I may have lost some of her sayings, but luckily, she still has an arsenal of funny quotes.

Here are two my favorites right now:

She’s always in a hurry (except when I want her to be in a hurry). She likes to get things done in a “jippy”. As in, “Mama, if you hurry up and do the dishes, we’ll be done cleaning in a jippy and then we can play!”

She calls headphones Ear Muffins. I can tell you how much this makes me laugh. I chuckled now just typing it. Ear Muffins! I love this girl and all the funny things she says!

If you give a girl a cupcake

2011-10-14T22:28:37Z

I really wanted to make this yummy recipe that I’ve been excited to share with you, but I feel like I’ve been run over by an eighteen wheeler that then decided to throw it in reverse and double the damage. I don’t think I have strep like Abigail and Steve had earlier this week; I’ve just got an annoying cough and my head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. And, I could easily sleep for a couple of days. So, instead of pictures and a recipe of delicious pumpkin curry soup, you get these pictures of my babies when I took them to tour the kitchen and decorate a cupcake at our favorite local cupcake shop, Oh! Snap.

I saw on Facebook that Oh Snap! was hosting a cupcake decorating tour on Labor Day and I thought it would be a perfect thing for the girls to do on a predicted rainy day (it ended up being really, really rainy that day since we were in the midst of Tropical Storm Lee).

First, the girls got to go back and see the kitchen where all the cupcake magic happens. I was surprised at how small the kitchen was – it is definitely a feat of organizational magic to be able to produce all those cupcakes in such a tiny space!

Then, it was time for decorating!

Gracie is somewhat of a minimalist when it comes to cupcake decorating.

Abigail? Well, she’s not such a minimalist. The picture on the left was about halfway through her process…the one on the right is her completed creation.

Then, of course, there was the joy of eating them. They sampled the frosting before we left.

Then, they finished them off after we picked up lunch and met Daddy at work.

All in all, it was a great rainy-day adventure. We enjoyed it so much, we actually took the girl scout troop for a tour and a decorating session last week.

Spa Night

2011-10-13T17:21:00Z

A few weeks ago, Steve went to a football game out of town. He left early Saturday morning and didn’t get back home until about 4:30 a.m. on Sunday. So, the girls and I had a girls’ day and night. It was the day after Abigail’s first shaking episode. (I’ll give an update about that in another post; I was going to do that here, but it got too long). So, I was a bit off-kilter that day, but being off-kilter wasn’t exactly an option since the girls were so excited about our plans for the day.

We loaded up our bikes and checked out a new to us green-belt bike trail in Robertsdale. It was awesome – I need to blog about it. Then, we had lunch at GooRoos (it was yummy; the girls enjoyed it and the service was excellent). We left there and made a stop by Target to pick up some new pajamas for the girls. They ended up with pajamas and the fuzzy slippers above and Abigail got a new fuzzy robe. We needed a cucumber but that Target didn’t sell produce so we went to Wal-Mart and bought a cucumber and a Neutrogena face mask. Everything was set for our first ever spa night.

I’d been planning this little spa night for the girls for a while. During the summer, I picked up travel sets of some fun Bath & Body Works scents and some Lavender milk bath and lotion; at Claire’s I got some rainbow nail polish; at the Children’s Museum of Memphis I found two gaudy plastic rings; at a party store I found plastic champagne flutes. I was ready!

The girls put on their robes and slippers and waited in the “waiting room” while I gathered everything together. Abigail said that in spa waiting rooms, ladies “always read the mazagines!” so she found a paper and settled in. (how she know this I don’t know since I’ve been to a spa one time in my life and she wasn’t born yet…I am an alien from another planet – I don’t like going to spas.) I poured them Sprite in the Champagne flutes and gave them their gaudy rings. They walked around like they were at the most expensive resort in the universe.

Then, I painted their fingernails and toenails with the rainbow colors.

Next, it was time for their facials. This was fun! The cucumbers were far too big for Abigail’s orbits, though!

For some reason, Gracie though she couldn’t move her mouth once the mask was on, so there was no smile from her!

Next up was their milk bath. They talked about this for days…”Daddy! Can you believe we got to take a MILK bath?”

We played some soft Chinese music (Gracie says Chinese music is very relaxing and perfect for a spa). I gave them massages with the lavender lotion, complete with “karate chops” (where you pound on your massage subject’s back and legs). Finally, they put on their new pajamas and settled down on pallets on the living room floor. I’d like to tell you that they drifted quickly off to sleep. The truth is, they were so excited about how much fun they had that they watched a movie and both of them were still awake at midnight! I think at least part of that was missing their daddy, but I’m glad they enjoyed our night so much!

In Sickness And In Health

2011-10-13T03:10:54Z

Gracie and I were in the car the other day, alone, when she piped up from the back seat, “Mommy, are you and Daddy going to get divorced?” I almost choked on my diet Dr. Pepper and couldn’t imagine where that thought came from. I asked her why she would ever think that and and she replied, “Well, you get so upset with him when he moves stuff and doesn’t tell you!” I suppressed my laughter and explained to her that no, Daddy & I weren’t going to divorce because he moved my sewing scissors (that were on the floor where they shouldn’t have been). I tried to explain in 7-year-old terms that I love her Daddy more than anyone in this world and that just because we disagree sometimes, we are not going to split up.

I thought about that conversation a good bit today. Today is our 9th anniversary. And, honestly, today couldn’t be more different than our wedding day. Instead of being together, surrounded by our friends and family, we spent the day apart and we’ll spend the night apart, too. Steve woke up this morning feeling pretty bad. I can’t say that I was too surprised. Abigail has strep throat and I’ve had a pretty ugly cold for the last couple of days. But, because Steve is the kind of man that he is, he went into work because he didn’t want to let his co-workers down. I convinced him that he didn’t need to go to church tonight and teach his Wednesday night class of second and third graders and pass on whatever toxic germs he is carrying to them. (I decided I’d recovered sufficiently enough to teach my 4th and 5th graders but after an hour of trying to make my weak voice heard over their din, I’m not so sure that was a smart move!). After some not too subtle prodding by me, Steve went to the urgent care clinic and the doctor there prescribed him some antibiotics. He’s sleeping in our bedroom now. Hopefully, he’ll feel worlds better tomorrow.

I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight, like I have for the last couple of weeks. That is by choice, but not because I don’t want to share a bed with my husband. The truth is I am scared to sleep with Abigail by myself because I’m afraid she’ll have another shaking spell. But, I’m absolutely terrified of her sleeping alone. So, the ridiculous solution is that Steve sleeps with her, keeping a watchful, but less neurotic than mine, eye on her. It’s not the best plan; I know this. But, to me, it’s yet another way that Steve demonstrates how much he loves me and the girls. He’s willing to do whatever he has to to keep us safe (and me sane).

As I’m writing all of this, I’m realizing how terribly unromantic it all sounds – Nyquil and antibiotics and juggling teaching church classes and 5-year-olds having shaking episodes. And then there are all the other things: medical bills and family dramas, and a highly emotional 7-year-old and multiple jobs for both of us and cars that break down and water pipes that burst. Yeah, it doesn’t sound that romantic at all on paper. I guess because right now, it isn’t romantic. It’s so much more than romance. It’s a man who gets up each day and works hard, but still calls at lunch to see how my day is going. A man who thanks me for cooking dinner even when all I’ve done is throw frozen fish sticks on a baking sheet. A man who’s willing to cut his mother-in-law’s grass after he’s already cut his own just because he loves his wife. A man who tries his best every day to make me happy.

Abigail and I were riding in the car this morning and she said. “Mommy? Where are we going for you and Daddy’s anniversary? Should I change into a beautiful dress?” I told her we weren’t going anywhere. After I talked to her for a few minutes, I realized that she thought Steve & I were actually getting married again today. She had visions of flowers and a church and friends and family being there. She had the whole romantic ideal going on in that adorable little head of hers. And, I smiled. Because the romance is wonderful, it truly is. But this so much more. It’s life and it’s real and it’s love and I’ll take that any day over flowers and a pretty dress.

Elusive Glass Pumpkins

2011-10-11T11:09:00Z

Gracie and I had a day full of adventures scheduled for last Saturday. She had a soccer game and her American Girl book club. In between, we planned to go downtown to the Belmont Arts & Cultural Center for their Glass Pumpkin Patch. I saw this event advertised last year, but for some reason that I now can’t remember, we didn’t make it. When I saw it in the paper last month, I immediately put it on our calendar for this year.

When I was a little girl, we used to take day trips to Jamestown and when we were there, we always visited the Jamestown Glasshouse. It always mesmerized me to see the artisans turn molten glass into beautiful works of art. So, the idea of taking the girls to see an entire “patch” of glass-blown pumpkins sounded great. When I realized there were going to be glass blowing demonstrations, too, I was hooked.

We ran into a scheduling glitch because the event ran from ten a.m. to two p.m. Gracie’s soccer game was at 10:20 which meant we couldn’t go before soccer and Abigail’s soccer game was at noon which meant we wouldn’t be able to go after soccer and still be back by two for book club. Luckily, Steve was off on Saturday so we decided that he would stay and watch Abigail’s game and let Gracie & I go to the pumpkin patch (I didn’t feel too bad about this – I think Abigail was a little young to truly enjoy the glass blowing anyway; I did feel bad about having to miss her soccer game, though). As it turned out, Abigail was sick, sick, sick on Saturday so Steve went to watch Gracie play and then we he brought her home, she & I headed downtown.

By the time we got there, all 700 of the glass blown pumpkins were already sold! Wow! I was a little disappointed and so was Gracie, but what great news for the fundraiser for the center. And, we quickly forgot our disappointment as we watched the glass blowers. It was as incredible as I remember from all those years ago. Gracie’s eye were huge as she watch them. After we watched for a while, we started to head out of the studio and we spied these beautiful glass ball ornaments. Gracie saw the orange one and said, “Hey, Mama! Look! There’s still one pumpkin left!” I don’t think it was intended as pumpkin, simply an orange ball, but it worked for both of us. She was a happy camper and I was glad to have a piece of local art.

Next year, we’re going to go back, but we’re going to get there early!

Technorati Tags: Belmont Arts & Cultural Center,Glass Pumpkin Patch,Things to do in Pensacola

Bone Dancing

2011-10-10T10:19:00Z

Last year, it was mummies. This year, she’s graduated (?) to skeletons. Abigail spied this glow-in-the-dark skeleton at the store. I’d say that it fascinated her, but I don’t think that’s an accurate word for running down the main aisle of Target, shrieking, and yelling, “Mommy! Look! Look! Look at the skeleton! It’s huge! I love it! I want it! Please, please, please!!” Fascination is probably too mild of a word. I didn’t buy it, though. At least not that day. She continued to talk about the skeleton at home (telling her Daddy tales of the humongous skeleton) and every time we went in Target it was a repeat of the running and shrieking and yelling. And, honestly? I’m more than a little tickled that she gets as excited about Halloween decorations as I do. So, I spent a good chunk of my Halloween budget for this year (what, you don’t have a Halloween budget?) on this guy.

Really? I think it may have been worth it. As soon as we took it out of the box, she asked if she could dance with it. The girls and the skeleton waltzed for a while and then she proceeded to give him kisses worthy of a 1940s movie (Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler got nothing on this pair’s swoop kisses!)

She decided that she should take him swinging, because, as she says “My skeleton would love to swing! I can push him and then we won’t fall off and break a bone!”

Then she wanted to bring him inside. She asked if I would sing the song. I asked her what song. “You know, Mommy! The song they sing when peoples get married and the bride walks down the row.” Ummmm…well, then. I told her that her Daddy would probably be upset if she married a skeleton while he was a work and refused to sing the Wedding March.

I love this girl and her Halloween goofiness!

Overboard

2011-10-09T13:25:27Z

I know that my children have everything they need and then some. Steve & I are fortunate that we’re able to get them many of the things that they want (their bedroom is certainly a testimony to this; it’s often difficult to walk in there among the strewn toys and books). Still, I try to manage some kind of balance between spoiling the girls rotten and teaching them the value of simplicity. This month, though, I suspect that balance may be tilting more toward the rotten side; however, while Gracie may not have learned a lesson about simplicity this month, I think she may have learned a lesson that is just as valuable.

Gracie has been working very hard this year at a lot of different things. She’s been working hard to control her temper tantrums; she’s been learning tools to improve her focusing skills; and she’s been reading, reading, and reading.

Her school uses the Accelerated Reader program. Basically, the children read books in their reading level and then take computerized test on the books. Each book is assigned a point level, so the more books they read (and the more difficult those book are), the more points they accrue. Many schools use this program. Gracie’s school, however, uses the points as a type of reward system. Children who get a certain number of points get a spot on the “Wall of Fame” and children who get three times that number get a spot on the “Brag Board” . And yes, those names make me cringe, too. Finally, at the end of the year, the three children from each class get to go on a special field trip. Gracie is a strong reader. Each year of school, she’s earned enough points to land a spot on the “Wall of Fame” and either made it to or come close to the “Brag Board”. The problem is, at least in her mind, that’s she’s never earned enough points to go on the elusive field trip. This year, she decided that she really, really wants to go on that field trip. And she has worked hard so far. Steve & I decided that we wanted to encourage her efforts, and also reward her for all of her hard work.

For the last four months, Gracie has been attending an American Girl book club that meets at the public library. I can not say enough good things about this book club. The club, and its leader, have done more to encourage Gracie in her reading than anything we’ve done at home or school. The leader of the book club is a sixteen-year-old high school senior who created the program three years ago. Her name is Mary Grace and she is nothing short of amazing. Each month, she makes the books come alive for the girls with a lively discussion of the current book and an activity that flushes out the storyline. Gracie has been able to hear from a marine biologist about local sea turtles; she’s participated in a Russian folktale play; she’s learned the Virginia Reel. I don’t think I can overstate what a good thing this has been for her!

At the end of the each meeting, they announce what book the girls will be discussing the next month. In September, Mary Grace said that the girls should read the book “Meet Marie-Grace”, the introductory book to one of American Girl’s new historical dolls. The story is set in New Orleans a decade before the Civil War. This doll immediately piqued Gracie’s interest, partly because of the similarity to her own name (Grace AnnMarie…Marie-Grace) and partly because we both think that the character Marie-Grace (pronounced Mary Grace) is loosely based on the leader of her book club, Mary Grace. As soon as I heard this was the book selection for October, I started formulating a plan. Steve & I talked and we agreed. We told Gracie that if she had earned enough AR points (35) to be on the Wall of Fame by the October American Girl Book Club, that we would give her a special surprise. It seemed like a lofty, but obtainable goal. At that point, she had about 10 points, so four weeks to get the remaining 15 seemed doable. About three weeks ago, she came home from school completely crushed. The school changed the number of points that second-graders need to get on the Wall of Fame. It seems that too many children read over the summer and were getting onto the Wall too easily (and yes, I see the complete and utter lunacy in that statement). Steve and I talked again and decided that we would honor our original deal of 35 points and not require that she earn 40 points (the new point level) to get her special gift. We told Gracie and she continued to work hard.

The October book club was yesterday. On Friday afternoon, Gracie took the test that took her to 35 points and Friday evening, she unwrapped her surprise, her very own Marie-Grace doll. I wish I could bottle the joy that lit her face when she got into the car on Friday afternoon and told me that she’d made it and the look of surprise when she opened her present. Her sense of accomplishment is priceless to me.

I know that looking in from the outside, it seems overboard to reward Gracie for something that she should be doing anyway. We expect her to do her schoolwork to the best of her ability. We expect her to always try her best. But, over the last several months, she’s worked harder than she ever has; she’s been through some pretty tough times for a 7-year-old, but she’s worked through them and she’s doing so much better. Steve and I are both so proud of her!

Halloween Countdown Board

2011-10-04T15:03:16Z

I have a reason why I craft. See, the majority of what I do gets undone 5 minutes after I’ve finished. The laundry, the dishes, cleaning up the living room. Regardless of how often I do it, as soon as I turn around, I’ve got to do it again. In some ways, my code writing work is that way, too. As soon as I finish one piece, it’s time to update it and modify it. And let’s not even talk about how I say the same things to the girls over and over again. Every day. Every hour. Many times, I feel like I never have closure with anything. And it’s hard to recognize anything as an accomplishment when it never seems to be finished. I know, I know…zen and the art of dishwashing and yada, yada, yada. I guess I’m just not far along enough in my enlightenment to say to myself “the journey of cleaning up the house is accomplishment enough.” Yeah, not there yet.

But, my crafts? Well for the most part they give me a sense of closure. When I finish them. Which I’ll admit doesn’t happen as frequently as I’d like. (Steve’s probably laughing hysterically as he reads this, thinking about all the half-finished “projects” I have around the house.) When I do finish them though, I really enjoy the feeling of having created something that will last, at least longer than a couple of seconds.

I’m going to be honest here. This craft did not give me that happy, contented feeling. I’ll explain why in a minute.

I am a hopeless craft blog addict (I’m also a food blog addict, but you probably already knew that). One of my favorite craft blogs in Infarrantly Creative. Beckie does some amazing things. Honestly, I am not a particularly creative person. I’m able to copy projects that other people come up with fairly well, and on a good day, I can take someone else’s idea and tweak it to give it my own personal spin, but actually coming up with something cool and creative on my own? Not exactly my forte. A few months ago, Beckie started creating these awesome Countdown boards using MDF board, some paint, her Silhouette machine, and Hershey kisses. She did a St. Patrick’s Day one, an Easter one, a Summer one and a few others. I was hoping that she’d do a Halloween one and I wasn’t disappointed. Really, I guess I could have figured it out myself, but ummm…can you say laziness on my part?

I was so excited to start this project. From the beginning, though, it was rife with difficulty (let me be perfectly clear here…none of my troubles had anything to do with Beckie’s instructions or the idea…it was all idiocy on my part). Abigail and I had to go to two stores to get the board (Lowes wouldn’t cut it for us because their saw was broken). Then, Steve drilled the holes for me and it took him three days because the drill battery kept dying (I think we’re investing in a corded drill very soon!). Then, I had more trouble with the spiderweb stencil than any sane person ought to have with a stencil. I ended up using it as a reverse stencil – I painted a square of the board silver, placed the inverted stencil on the board and repainted the black – does that make sense? It worked like a charm that way. Then, I didn’t have any regular Modge Podge and had to use Glitter Modge Podge which I think actually turned out pretty cool. Then, I couldn’t find any adhesive tape – I have like three dispensers and two replacement cartridges but none of them matched. Ughhh! Finally, finally, I got them finished (did I mention I made two of them – one for Gracie and one for Abigail). All I wanted to do was take a picture. I set one in the kitchen. I bumped it and all of the kisses fell out. Some of them fell on the floor. Ella Bella ran over and gulped them up, wrapper, numbers, and all. Ugghhhh! So, I moved them to the bathroom. Yesterday, before I could get a picture, Abigail went in there and knocked the whole thing over. Again with the kisses on the floor! Finally, finally I got the picture. But, I was so frustrated with the whole process that I wanted to cry! I think a huge part of the problem is that I got a really, really cheapie easel to hold it up and it slides and collapses very easily. Also, I think Steve & I messed up drilling some of the holes and either got them too deep or too shallow so the kisses don’t sit flush with the board.

The girls think these are the coolest thing ever! They’re begging to eat the kisses and have already come up with ideas for a Christmas countdown board, a Birthday countdown board, and Gracie suggested we make one for each month. I told her I didn’t know about that! This morning, though, I’m ready to admit that I’d like to try and make another one. Because, they are sooooo cool and they really do look awesome sitting on the counter. And, while the process may not have been as smooth as I’d like, I do feel some sense of accomplishment which is the whole purpose. Right?

Doodles of Fun

2011-10-03T16:38:11Z

You all know how I feel about October, right? It’s my favorite month of the year and every year I try and do fun fall or Halloween related things with the girls.

I saw a copy of this Halloween Doodles book at Barnes and Noble. (We’re spending a lot of time there lately…Gracie is a reading machine this year and likes nothing better than to go to the bookstore and find something new to read). I didn’t get the copy I saw in the store, but I kept thinking about how cool it was. So, I ordered three copies on-line. The girls and I spend a good bit of time waiting at doctor’s offices, at ballet lessons, before soccer practice. I thought these would be the perfect thing for us to do together. We pulled the books and some colored pencils out on Friday while we were waiting for Gracie’s doctor’s appointment. The first page was adding scary faces to pumpkins. We all had a great time creating spooky looks!

I think these will be a definite plus throughout the month! And, I have a sinking feeling that we’re going to be spending some more time in doctors’ offices this month- Abigail is still shaking at night and it seems to be getting worse. She’s tired; I’m tired; I’m ready for some answers – I just hope we don’t have to finish the entire Halloween Doodles book before we get them!

Normal..Goofy But Normal!

2011-10-01T12:14:49Z

Abigail’s EEG results came back perfectly normal. When the doctor told me, I felt the weight of the world lift from shoulders and the vise grip that was on my heart release.

She’s still twitching and shaking in her sleep and we still don’t have answers for that, but the doctor says unless she starts to exhibit signs of daytime sleepiness we’re going to let it go for now. Of course I’m watching her like a hawk during the day and every time she yawns I wonder if she’s tired. But, honestly, she’s as active as normal during the day…running, talking, playing. Her teachers haven’t noticed any difference in her (and I think they would be the first to notice because she’s one of the most talkative in her class – surprise! – and if she started to quiet down, they would pick up on it quickly). She’s playing soccer and enjoyed her birthday party last Saturday. So, right now, the nighttime shakies just seem like some kind of anomaly. And for that, I am thankful. So very thankful.

Like a Thief in the Night

2011-09-22T22:34:16Z

Yesterday, I was rushing Gracie to school because we were running late (really late). I noticed the car in front of me.

It was a older white Mazda Miata. The rear right bumper was dented and the right taillight was cracked. The back window was completely gone and the whole car looked like it had seen better days. The only person in the car was the driver, a man in a baseball cap. As we drove farther down the road, the man pulled the cap off, stuck his head out the window, shook his head quickly, and then reversed the process. It took me a minute to realize what he was doing. He was brushing his hair, simply and quickly. Inexplicably, or maybe not, my eyes filled with tears and a stab of jealously struck me. How amazingly wonderful to be able to roll of out bed five minutes before you need to leave, throw some clothes on, and jump in your car. How perfectly carefree. Of course, I realize I was projecting all of this on to the man; for all I know he may have been working four jobs and found out today that it’s still not enough to cover the bills; maybe he’s homeless and lives in his car. I know I was projecting. I know that I sounded crazy, even to myself. Sleep deprivation will do that to you. And add gut-wrenching worry to the sleep deprivation. Well, that’s an explosive combo…

On Friday night, I lay down beside Abigail. She fell asleep about 8:30 and I fell asleep too. I’m not going to explain the sleeping arrangements in our house – they are vast and complicated on most nights, mostly because Abigail is plagued by nightmares and partly because I am an early to bed, early to rise person and Steve is the opposite. (Gracie sleeps in the same bed, in her room, every single night – in this matter at least, she is my easy-going child). Anyway, Abigail was sleeping peacefully and I curled up, expecting to snuggle with her until Steve moved her to her bed when he was ready to go to sleep.

About 11:30, I woke up and looked over at Abigail. She was shaking. I don’t even know how to describe it; words fail me. She wasn’t shaking violently, but it wasn’t mild either. Her whole body was involved – like she was shivering. Her eyes were open, but they didn’t seem focused. I called out to her and she did respond. How long did it last? I don’t know – it seemed interminable but at the same time it seemed to be over instantly. I remember processing the thought, “Should I call an ambulance?” But, did I have that thought because I was woken from a deep sleep? Things that seem silly in the daytime are terrifying in the middle of the night (when I was a girl I terrified myself with a black cat in our hallway, only to realize in the morning that the supposed cat was a pile of my dad’s black work socks). So, I don’t know. Was it bad? Was it not bad? Regardless, it terrified me beyond words. Steve was brushing his teeth when it happened and by the time he came out of the bathroom, it was over. (That’s probably the best timeline explanation I have, “Yes, doctor. The episode lasted as long as it takes my husband to brush his teeth…if you’ll sing your ABCs twice, you’ll have an exact second count”).

I think Steve thought I was overreacting. There is no comfort in that. I can not help but worry – was it a seizure? Was it night terrors? Was it some strange thing that happens to her as she goes through sleep transitions? I have no answers and even if I did, I probably couldn’t formulate them because I haven’t sleep well since last Thursday night. She didn’t shake on Saturday night, but she did on Sunday. I don’t even remember Monday night. Steve slept with her Tuesday and Wednesday – I needed a break from spending most of the night watching her. He said that last night she did shake and it lasted about a minute. He didn’t seem anywhere as upset by it as I do. He is always more rational than I am, particularly when it comes to the girls. Most of the time, I am just mildly annoyed by his rationality. This time, I am envious of it – I would give anything to just be able to let the worry go. I want to believe that if this was the only worry-inducing event going on in our lives right now that I wouldn’t be this unsettled, but I don’t know if that’s the case. This has unnerved me. These little episodes of Abigail’s, whatever they are, have crept in like a thief in the night and stolen that element of peace that exists when my babies are sleeping and the house is quiet.

I took her to the doctor Tuesday morning and she said Abigail seemed fine, but felt we should do an EEG just to be on the safe side. She said it would take a week or two to get her in. They called yesterday and she had her EEG this morning. It was a sleep-deprived test, so we had to keep her up for two hours past her bedtime and wake her up two hours before we normally do. I expected it to be really difficult; it actually wasn’t too bad. She was all smiles at 5:00 a.m. (This afternoon is a completely different story – she is in rare mean, fit-pitching form –bedtime can’t come soon enough). The test itself was easy. In true Abigailiness, she turned it into an adventure. As we were leaving, the check-in people came out of their office, waving, “Goodbye Abigail!”

Now, we wait. For the results of the EEG. For night to fall and sleep to come. I pray that it is restful sleep for all of us.

All About Abigail

2011-09-14T03:34:06Z

She is five years old today. Five years!

I could tell you her birth story, but that needs to be told on another day when you have lots of time to hear a scary story with a happy ending.

I could tell you how I wanted to pull my hair out this morning when she informed me that now that she is five, she no longer needs to listen to me or do what I ask her to do. And then how she spent ten minutes arguing with me about buckling her seat belt.

I could tell you how much I grinned when I sat in her preschool classroom while she passed out her Oh Snap! Oreo cupcakes to her classmates. She was truly in her element and almost dancing with happiness.

I could tell you how my heart swelled with joy when I watched her this evening at soccer practice, putting all her attention and spirit into kicking that little red ball around while her blond pigtails danced in the breeze.

I could tell you how I giggled when she stood on the ottoman and sang, at the top of her lungs, “Happy Birthday to who? Me! That’s right, Happy Birthday to ME!!!”

I could tell you how I got choked up reading Puff the Magic Dragon to her tonight and how my tears spilled onto her pillow while I rubbed her back as we listened to Peter, Paul, and Mary sing the song from the book as she drifted off to sleep. I can’t believe that she’s five years old and that before I know it, she, like little Jackie Paper, will be too old for things like string and sealing wax and other fancy stuff like pigtails and butterfly lunch boxes. But for now, she is still young enough to enjoy those things and I am going to relish it.

Yes, I could tell you all of those things, but instead, I think I’ll just let Abigail tell you about herself. This is a project she did for preschool last week. She put the stickers on herself and then dictated to me what I should write. I think she describes herself pretty well:

She says:

“My name is Abigail! I am 4 years old. Next week I will be 5 years old! I love to cook. I suck my thumb. I am kind. I like my family. I love babies and dogs named Max. I like to get presents and I like to give them to others. I love animals. I like to sing! I like to have fun.”

I don’t think I could have described her better myself! I love my sweet, precious, headstrong, loving, kind, amazing five year old!

What I’ve done; what I’m doing

2011-09-09T13:27:55Z

Yesterday I cried for an hour for no good reason except sheer and absolute mental and emotional exhaustion.

Yesterday I realized that I have been shopping this summer, more than I should, because I’m stressed. Stress shopping is no better for you than stress drinking or stress eating, but at least my girls have some really cool games and books and I have some awesome decorations for Halloween. I’m not sure, but I think Steve would rather that I stress eat and may possibly rather that I stress drink.

Yesterday I tried to get out of going to the first meeting of my new bible study because I was too tired and too disorganized and too this and too that. Steve made me go. I am glad.

Yesterday I wished, at least once, that I lived on a desert island that didn’t involve doctor’s appointments, hospitals, nursing homes, or minivans so full of junk that you can’t put the back seat up. But I realized that living on desert island would be lonely and by loving people I’m opening myself to doctor’s appointments, hospitals, nursing homes and minivans full of crayons, candy wrappers, and leftover McDonalds Happy Meal toys.

Yesterday, I fell into an exhausted sleep a little before midnight but not before I finished cleaning the kitchen. Which made me feel good at 5:00 a.m. this morning.

This morning I thought, more than once, that sending Abigail to a boarding school is not something I’m totally against. Particularly if she could start today.

This morning I felt like the worst mother. ever.

This morning I wondered why I’m capable of designing and supporting a database full of hundreds of thousands of records, but I’m not capable of getting the girls dressed and their lunches made without at least one of us having a meltdown.

This morning, for the first time in a long time, I missed my solitary drives to work at 5:30 a.m. when I listened to Morning Edition and the sky was still dark.

This morning, I would give anything to be able to talk to my father and hear his professional opinion.

This morning, my head is so full of pressure from the weather change that I’m almost wishing fall would leave and 100 degree temperatures would return. almost.

Today, I am going to be an advocate for my oldest child. And I don’t know what I’m doing. at all. and I hope that that’s okay.

Roll Tide Burgers

2011-09-08T11:30:54Z

I’m not a football fan – there I said it – go ahead and stone me if you must. I never was a football fan – in high school I was a band geek and spent almost every football game either trying not to die from heat exhaustion because my uniform was made of something akin to wool combined with polyester or trying not to die from frostbite because my goofy color guard shoes were made of something akin to rice paper. Either way, in high school, I was far more concerned with surviving the experience than enjoying what was happening on the field. In college, I was a band geek yet again. The issue here wasn’t so much my uniform but this little known fact: in high school when you’re a band geek, you’re pretty much just a geek. In college, at least my college, band geeks are elevated to some sort of obnoxious geek club, which somehow elevates your coolness level about 150%. So, in college I was too busy trying to be obnoxious to care what was happening on the field. (Now, basketball is a whole other beast entirely – I can sixth man with the best of them when it comes to basketball).

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your perspective, I married an avid (I almost typed rabid - I think that might be more accurate) Alabama football fan. I have tolerated more than ten years of listening to Alabama statistics, coach changes, player updates, and on and on and on. (In the spirit of full disclosure, I really don’t mind – football may not be my thing, but it is Steve’s and he puts up with a heck of a lot from me). In addition to Steve’s love of football, I also live in a part of the country where football is something of a religion. You pretty much can’t escape it here in the deep south – it’s as much a part of the local culture as walks on the beach or Sunday dinners with the family.

While I don’t think I’ll ever be sitting in my house on Saturday afternoons watching people run up and down a 100 yd. field in 100 degree heat ramming into each other to get to a ball made out of pigskin, I can get into the party aspect of it. I’ll take any opportunity to have a party with my girls. So, last Saturday, the girls donned their chef’s hats (and apparently some Sumo wrestler expressions) and we got down to cooking some food worthy of the first day of football season.

This year, Steve had to work on opening day of college football. So, the girls and I decided to throw together a little party to surprise him when he came home. We made some buffalo chicken dip and these little cookies.

Okay, a cookie decorator I will never be and I don’t think either of my girls has a future as one either, but we certainly had fun making them!

I found this awesome little chip and dip holder at Sarah Jane’s, our local geegaw shop. What’s a geegaw shop you ask? It’s what my dad called little gift shops full of interesting things that my sister, my mother and I couldn’t resist. Some of my favorite treasures have come from geegaw shops all over the country!

My favorite thing we made were the little cheeseburgers at the top. I’ve made them several times for parties during the Christmas season, but when I saw the little football shaped (okay, I realize I’m stretching it, but the buns were kind of oval and I saw a little bit of resemblance), I thought they’d be the perfect addition to our “party”. These little burgers are really, really yummy and since you bake them instead of frying or grilling them, they’re pretty low maintenance, which really helps when you’re cooking in the middle of a tropical storm. I’m just saying….

Here’s the recipe if you want to try them at your next get together, be it a football party, a basketball party, or a Tropical Storm party!

Roll Tide Burgers (originally named Buffet Burgers)

2 pounds lean ground beef
1 cup soft bread crumbs
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 teaspoon garlic salt
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1/4 teaspoon white pepper (you can use black pepper if you like, the white pepper gives the flavor a little extra depth of yumminess!)
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
20 small rolls, split

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine ground beef, bread crumbs, onion, egg, mayonnaise, garlic salt, Italian seasoning, and pepper; mix well. Press meat mixture into bottom of a 15 1/2 x 10 1/2 inch jellyroll pan to within 1 inch of edges of pan. Bake 20 to 25 minutes; drain. Top meat mixture with cheese and bake 5 to 8 minutes longer or until cheese is melted. Remove from oven and allow to sit (about 5 minutes). Cut meat into 20 squares and place inside rolls. Enjoy!

The Beginning of the End of an Era

2011-09-04T18:32:50Z

Abigail started school on Monday. Her last year of preschool; my last year of preschool She is so excited; I am not so excited. I can not believe that in just a few short months, she will no longer be attending the preschool that has been so much a part of our lives for the last five years. Five years? That’s half of a decade! Abigail was only a year old when we switched Gracie there. Gracie went for almost two years and Abigail will have been a student for four years when she “graduates” in May.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve found myself wishing I could turn back time or at least stall it. These preschool days have been magical and I know that each year that passes, the girls get more and more independent. What will our lives look like five years from now when we have have a 7th grader and a 4th grader? I know the magic will still be there, but I also know the magic will be different. Will they still enjoy “crafting” with me? Maybe. Will I still be the most exciting person they know? Probably not. I do know that I will try my best to enjoy this last year of preschool, both for Abigail and for me.

The interesting thing, at least for me, about having two children, especially when they’re more than two years apart is this: Everything they do is the first time and the last time. And both the first and the last are wrought with emotion. I cried when Gracie started kindergarten because it was the first time one of my babies started school And, I’ll cry when Abigail starts because it will be the last time one of my girls will start school. And I guess that’s appropriate because everything I am as a parent is tied up in the two of them – they are both the beginning and the end, the start and the finish.

Abigail is so excited for this year. She feels like a “big girl”. And, in fact, she is a big girl. She’s no longer a baby or a toddler. Soon, before I blink it seems, she won’t be a preschooler. But for now, we’re both going to enjoy classrooms filled with glues sticks and markers, baby dolls, and dress up clothes. She may learn to read and write her name this year, but I’m sure that what she’ll remember most from her last year of preschool is the time she spent playing with her friends. Here’s to a wonderful year!

{dis}Orientation

2011-08-31T13:19:37Z

Last Friday, Gracie had her second grade orientation. This is the third year we’ve done this – we go in, meet her teacher, drop off her school supplies, look around to see who she knows in her class, and then head out after a few minutes, excited for the first day of school the following Monday.

The two weeks before orientation this year were a little bumpy. Honestly, the whole summer was a bit of a bumpy ride around here but the last two weeks were even a little rougher. I need to write about all of that, but it’s a whole long post that I need to work out first in my mind before I write it all down. But, on the day of orientation, as we walked into the school, it seemed like things were settling down . We had Gracie’s teacher assignment; she had one of the certified gifted teachers, even though she’s not in the gifted program. ( In Gracie’s school, if there are enough students, the school creates a self-contained gifted class. I assumed since Gracie was assigned to the teacher that the second grade class didn’t have enough children for a self-contained class). Gracie already knew most of the children in her class and we’d actually found everything on her school supply list. We were early, which if you know us, was a small miracle.

Gracie was the first one into her class. She got to spend a little time talking to the teacher. I was able to sign up as a parent volunteer. One of Gracie’s friends came in and the two girls giggled about who was sitting next to each other and they walked around the room, pointing out all the things that interested them. Gracie was glowing with excitement. As we were leaving, I happened to ask the teacher what Gracie would be doing when the other children went to the gifted program. The teacher looked a little taken aback but she recovered nicely. She said, “If she’s in this class, she’ll go with them. If they put her in here, here is where she’s supposed to be.”

I should have been relieved, but there was a small voice whispering that something wasn’t quite right. So, I went and found the gifted program director and explained the situation to her – that Gracie isn’t in the gifted program but was in the class. The director pulled up her records and said she needed to go and talk to the principal to see what was going on because the class was supposed to be self-contained. She wanted to check and see if maybe there weren’t quite enough children to fill the class and they’d placed Gracie in there because of her standardized test results. She told us to finish up the other things on our list (signing Gracie up for piano lessons and me up for the PTA) and then come back and she’d have an answer for us.

We walked up and down the halls. Gracie was holding my hand and I hoped that she didn’t pick up on the tension I was feeling. I should tell you here Gracie had a really, really rough summer. Her self esteem has taken multiple hits over the last several months. She doubts her intelligence, her ability to have friends, pretty much everything. I knew that if we had to pull her out of this class, she would take it personally.

After we finished signing up for the PTA (the piano teacher wasn’t there yet), we found the gifted program director talking to the principal. She told us we needed to go down to the principal’s office and see what happened. As we walked down the hall, the principal chatted on about how sorry she was and she didn’t see how this could have happened. I could see Gracie’s face start to crumble and I could feel the anxiety in her little hand as it clutched mine, tighter and tighter. As we rounded the corner into her office, the principal said, in a voice loud enough for my baby to hear, “Well, she can’t be in that class. All those children are gifted.”.

What my child heard was, “I’m not smart enough to be in that class”.

The tears started. I wish that I could say the only tears were Gracie’s because what she needed in that moment was for me to be strong. But, as I stood there watching my baby’s spirit be crushed yet again, any strength I had took a hiatus and I couldn’t hold the tears back. As we sat there and listened to the principal apologize for neglecting to check Gracie’s paperwork before assigning her to that class and asking if I had another teacher in mind for her, I tried to keep my tears from dissolving into full-blown sobs. Gracie stood behind me, tears racing down her cheeks. I asked the principal if we could talk to Gracie’s first grade teacher before we put her in another class so I could get her opinion. The principal agreed. Gracie and I walked down the long hall to her first grade classroom. As soon as we walked in, I knew we’d come to the right place.

Gracie’s teacher immediately knew something was wrong. And, if I loved her teacher before Friday (which I did), that love has multiplied by a million. When I explained the situation, the first thing she did was take Gracie by the shoulders, lean down to her level, look her square in the eye, and say, “Grace. I want you to listen to me. This did not happen because you are not smart. This mix-up happened because you are so very smart.” And Gracie’s tears dried up instantly because her teacher’s word, in her mind, is gospel. (Unfortunately, mine did not dry up as quickly, although I think they were more from relief at this point). The next thing her teacher did was to help us figure out a second grade teacher. She worked with the gifted program director and between the two of them, they selected a teacher for Grace, cleared it with the principal, explained the situation to the new teacher and the original teacher, and took Gracie’s school supplies from the old classroom to the new one. Their grace and kindness made what could have been a very difficult situation a lot less so. Gracie and I walked down and met her second new teacher of the day and Gracie was happy as a clam.

Gracie loves her new teacher (this weekend, she sat down and made her a beautiful card and wrote her a very sweet note). I think that as bumpy as the road was to get there, it’s going to be a wonderful situation for Grace. The new teacher said to me that her gift was building children’s self-esteem, which Gracie needs more than anything right now.

I am so thankful for everyone who helped us on Friday. I spent a couple of hours feeling slightly disoriented. Gracie bounced back much faster than I did! I regret that I did not hold it together as well as I should have for her sake. I regret that I didn’t question her teacher assignment when we got it in the mail earlier in the week and could have possibly worked it all out without Gracie ever knowing or feeling like she was inadequate. I regret that I didn’t find somewhere to leave her when I went to talk to the principal so she wouldn’t have heard the principal’s ill-timed words. But, I am glad that I did think to ask at orientation rather than waiting to let the school realize their error and have her pulled out of class after school started. I am so grateful to the wonderful teachers and the gifted program director who smoothed the way for both of us. And, I am glad that this happened to us and not someone new to the school I knew where to go and what questions to ask. Gracie had champions for her. A new student might have been lost in the shuffle. More than anything I am so thankful that Gracie bounded off to school on Monday morning with a smile on her face!

Am I The Only One Who Doesn’t Know About This?

2011-08-06T10:51:00Z

Did you know that you can use your automatic ice cream maker to make slushies? How did I miss this? I saw a coke icee on Bake At 350 and decided to try it with my ice cream maker. Instead of just making a soda flavored one, I decided to try a Cherry Limeade Slushie.

When I was pregant with Abigail, a Sonic opened a few miles from our house. All during that long, hot hot summer before she was born, I subsisted on Cherry Limeades. I still love them. But, sometimes, I just don’t want to drive to Sonic. Now I don’t have to because these guys were good – I think they were even better than the Sonic ones since they were slushy and really, really cold. And drinking them out of milk bottles with paper straws certainly didn’t hurt either.

All I did was get my ice cream bowl out of the freezer, pour in 2 cups of Minute Maid Cherry Limeade juice (the kind that’s already made up in the refrigerator section at the grocery store) and 3 cups of Sprite. (I read that you can’t use diet drinks in the ice cream maker, but I wonder if you could in this one, since the juice has sugar in it…hmmm…maybe I’ll try that next time…what’s the worst the could happen besides ruining my ice cream maker…on second thought, I don’t think I’ll try it). Then, I just set the bowl in the ice cream maker, added the center thing and the lid, turned it on, and let it do its thing for about 20 minutes. At first I didn’t think it was going to work (I checked it 200 times in the first three minutes), but after several minutes, the mixture started to “slush up” and by the end of twenty minutes, it was the perfect slushy texture. Then, I poured them in the glasses, added some cherries and a little cherry juice. Yum!

Technorati Tags: cherry limeade slushie,ice cream icee,fun things to do with your ice cream maker

A Family Tradition

2011-08-01T21:01:08Z

When I was growing up, I used to find my dad like this all the time. He was constantly reading and he was never a night owl, so it was common to find him, either on the couch or in his bed, fast asleep with a book open on his chest. This is how I found Gracie last night and I’m sure that Steve has found me this way on more than one occasion. It is a family tradition that I am happy to pass on to my girls. I hope that in a couple of years, I’ll find Abigail this way, too. I don’t think there’s any better way to fall asleep than in the middle of a good book!

Despicable Daddy Party

2011-07-08T16:56:22Z

I think I’ve mentioned a time or two that I adore my husband. Really, I do. And not just in the “gosh I love this man because he puts up with my insane ideas and we’ve been together forever so we can finish each other’s sentences” totally comfortable but not so exciting kind of way. I also love him in the “he makes my heart do flip-flops and his kisses turn my knees to jelly” first crush kind of way. You wouldn’t know that I love him at all, though, based on the amount of attention I give Father’s Day and his birthday.

I think I’ve mentioned before that Steve’s birthday and Father’s Day generally fall within a couple of days of each other. And, somehow, I manage to always be in the middle of some kind of work or personal crisis during those days. I barely even said “Happy Father’s Day” to Steve on his very first Father’s Day because I was behind the 8-ball on a HUGE software development contract. I hope that I make up for my wifely horridness on other days like our anniversary and Christmas and Valentine’s Day. And, I hope, truly, that I show him every day, in little ways, exactly how important he is to me.

This year, I elevated my slackness to a new level. The girls and I weren’t even home for his birthday or Father’s Day. Really, I think he has ample grounds for leaving me and taking everything I own…wait, all I own is an 8-year-old van that sounds like it has bronchitis and a slew of craft supplies. I haven’t made up for Father’s Day yet, but I think the girls and I did a pretty good job of making up for the missed birthday this past Sunday.

Steve isn’t easy to shop for (he disagrees with this, but I stand firm in my believe that it’s easier to just tell him to go buy what he wants than to guess if I’m buying the correct shape of watch or right color of shoes). So, rather than shower him with gifts that he may or may night like, we decided to have a family birthday party for him.

Now, please remember that my husband turned 41 this year. So, it seemed totally appropriate to me that we would throw him a party that would be perfect for a preschooler. To my credit, Steve LOVES Despicable Me. Like in a cult classic way (and I can appreciate that, having been to more than one midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show). I’m sure that he could probably recite the entire dialog of the film – that is if he could stop laughing long enough to talk. I’d venture a guess that Despicable Me is one of his favorite movies of all time. So, when I saw these ideas for a Despicable Me party at PluckyMomo a few months ago, I knew that the girls and I had to create a party like this for Steve. And, I’m not sure who had fun…Steve, the girls, or me!

I think my favorite part of the evening was Abigail running around the back yard hugging her stuffed unicorn screaming “It’s so fluffy! It’s so fluffy, I’m gonna DIE!” just like Agnes did in the movie.

It was a great evening of minion bowling, eating stuffed crust pizza and cupcakes, shooting aliens, drinking shark punch, playing Pin The Goggles on the Minion and finally reading Sleepy Kitten (I happened upon the book at Amazon by sheer luck. I’m so glad I did – it was the perfect ending to the party!)

I hope Steve knows that despite our craziness, all three of his girls love him!

Technorati Tags: Despicable Me Birthday Party

Jelly Jar Banana Puddings

2011-07-03T18:30:00Z

I am a huge fan of creative packaging. Cupcakes in canning jars? Jelly beans in popcorn containers? Every day dinner served in those little fish & chip baskets with a paper liner? Oh yeah, I’m there. I saw these little treats on the cover of a magazine called Southern Favorites (it’s put out by Taste of the South) and had to try them. Really, banana pudding is not one the desserts that I crave often. Really, I’d rather have pumpkin pie or a cupcake, but how I could resist something that’s actually baked in a jelly jar? Genius!

These were actually really, really good right out of the oven and delicious again for breakfast the next morning (come on…bananas, milk, and wafers…that’s practically cereal!)

I did have trouble with the pudding not setting. I stirred for the required 8 minutes and even added two more minutes, but it was still a little soupy going into the jars. I kind of thought it might set a little more during baking but it didn’t. Now, in all honestly, I didn’t stir constantly since I had about 67 million interruptions while I was stirring, so that may have been the reason. Next time, I’ll try focusing more and stirring a little longer and see what happens. Even with slightly soupy pudding, they were still yum and a fun little treat!

Here’s the recipe:

2 cups of whole milk

4 large eggs, separated

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1/4 cup flour (the plain, all-purpose stuff)

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup butter

36 vanilla wafers (just a note here: Publix brand vanilla wafers to not taste as good as name-brand when you’re eating them out of the box, but in the pudding, I couldn’t tell a difference)

36 banana slices (about 1/4 inch thick)

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees

2. Arrange 6 8oz. jelly jars (I got mine at Publix, but they have them at Wal-Mart, too)on a cookie sheet that has an edge (it make it easier to get them into the oven, if you have edges to hang on to and it keeps any pudding that bubbles over from spilling into the bottom of your oven)

3. In a large saucepan, combine milk egg yolks, and vanilla, whisking well.

4. In a medium bowl, combine 1 cup sugar, flour, and salt, whisking well. Add to milk mixture, whisking to remove lumps.

5. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until thick enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon, about 8 to 10 minutes (or longer ) Add butter, whisking to combine. Let cool for 3 to 4 minutes

6. Arrange 3 cookies in the bottom of each jar. Place 3 banana slices on top of the cookies. Add 1/4 cup of the pudding mixtures over the bananas. Repeat

7. In a large mixing bowl, beat egg whites until soft peaks form. Add cream of tartar to egg whites. Gradually add the remaining 1/4 cup sugar, beating until stiff peaks form. Spoon meringue on top of pudding.

8. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, until the meringue starts to turn golden.

Enjoy!

A Fun and Festive Weekend

2011-07-02T15:02:53Z

The little robot guy at the top of the post is something that the girls and I made last year. It’s The Patrio-Biotic Centerpiece from Family Fun. It went together really easily and the girls enjoyed helping put it together. Unfortunately, it wasn’t’ the most stable thing in the world so it didn’t survive through the year. It was such a hit, though, that I think we’re going to make another one this year!

It’s going to be a crafty weekend around here! At least I hope it is. We’re having Steve’s birthday party tomorrow and the girls & I have some really cool things planned – I just hope we can pull them off. I have loads and loads of 4th of July things that I want to do. Mostly, I hope that Steve, the girls, and I can just relax and enjoy spending some time together over this three day weekend. We all need it! I hope you all have a wonderful 4th of July!

Technorati Tags: 4th of July crafts,4th of July kids

Last Year’s Fourth

2011-07-01T01:38:56Z

I don’t think it’s any secret that I love holidays. If you spend any amount of time here, you’ll see I take any holiday, large or small, as an opportunity to party and celebrate with my girls! The Fourth of July is certainly no exception. I think what I love so much about Independence Day is just getting to spend time together as a family. Usually, we do something that involves swimming – either going to the lake or the beach or just hanging out in the girls’ little pool. Last year was no exception. The girls and I made cupcakes and all four of us enjoyed grilled burgers and potato salad and coke in a bottle. Coke in a bottle is a special treat for the girls. I try really, really hard to limit their caffeine intake, mostly because….well, have you met my girls? They need caffeine like I need several extra holes in my head. But, something about summer and the 4th of July and a cook-out lets me relax my rules. (Actually, this summer, they’ve already each had one coke – that’s Gracie on the blog header drinking her first one at the beach on Memorial Day. It was for a stylized photo shoot, so apparently, I relax my rules for the 4th of July and photo shoots!)

We made Rocket Balloons from Family Fun. Basically, you take a balloon, fill it with 1/3 of a cup of dried lentils, blow the balloon up, and tie a streamer on the end. Then, you’re supposed to toss the balloon back and forth.

I don’t know what in the world made me think that adding the lentils to the balloons would make them un-poppable. I mean, really. I guess I though lentils had some magic quality that made balloons impervious to things like concrete and sharp blades of grass. I don’t claim to be the smartest chicken in the hen-house, but still, I even amazed myself with how dense I was on this one. We popped probably 10 of the balloons in about 8 seconds before I realized that the thing that the lentils do is actually weigh the balloon down, making it easier to pop and that they sound like rockets when you pop them and that’s why they’re called Rocket Balloons, not because they can soar around the backyard without ever popping. Once I realized that, Gracie and I had fun tossing a few to each other. Abigail wanted no part of it. The popping lentils terrified her. So, she ran inside after about two minutes.

Gracie and I played for a little while and then we coerced Abigail back outside with the only things that could overcome her fear of exploding lentil balloons….

Ice Cream Cupcakes! I got the idea for them from Annie’s Eats and modified them. I used the Colorburst Cupcake recipe from Our Best Bites, colored them red and blue and topped them with Blue Bell Vanilla ice cream. (Last year, I didn’t have an ice cream maker…this year – if I can find all the parts – we’ll have homemade ice cream!)

Abigail really enjoyed these! I think they more than made up for the balloons.

We did a few fireworks, just like we did in 2009. And just like then, Abigail was not a fan. She ran inside crying and once again, Gracie went inside to console her. And that may be my favorite part about the 4th of July – watching my big girl comfort her baby sister.

Technorati Tags: Fourth of July,July 4th,ice cream cupcakes,rocket balloon

Lichterman Nature Center

2011-06-29T14:06:09Z

We’ve done so much this summer already and we’re only three weeks in! I feel like we haven’t stopped since school let out (really since before school let out!). This week is a little slower for us so I’m taking time to catch up on pictures and writing and sleep. Who knew? If you actually take time to sleep, everything goes more smoothly!

Last week was Cousin Camp in Memphis (and the week before was Cousin Camp here). We had so much fun and had some really great adventures. Some of them were old standbys (like the Children’s Museum of Memphis) and some were things we’ve never done before. On Friday (yes, I’m working backwards), we went to the Lichterman Nature Center. Gracie, Abigail & I had never been there before. It was fantastic! Sometimes, in the midst of all the craziness of life, it’s nice to get away to somewhere peaceful.

Lichterman is a nature preserve right in the heart of Memphis. It’s between several busy streets, but you feel like you’re out in the middle of the wilderness. It was so peaceful to walk around and look at the plants. I brought my macro lens with me and I’m so glad that I did!

Here’s a gumball from a Sweetgum tree:

and an ant (?) on a flower about to bloom (the girls proclaimed this picture disgusting):

I thought these tiny little flowers were beautiful!

I was walking along a path and saw this little flower stalk. When I looked through my viewfinder, I saw the bug. Macro photography really does open up a whole other world!

I think the girls enjoyed walking through the trails. Gracie liked it because she had a map to follow – that’s what she’s holding. (She’s in to maps right now!)

Emmie spied this little furry caterpillar on the walkway. We couldn’t figure out if this was the front or the back of it…the final conclusion was this was the front.

Ruby, as always, was my companion in lollygagging! She is always the one to hang back with me while I’m taking pictures. When everyone else has wandered off, she’s always there saying, “Look at this Aunt Daffy!” Have I mentioned I love that girl? She found an awesome seed pod in the meadow and pointed out some of the beautiful lilypads.

The center has a backyard animal center that houses some rescued animals and lets you get a view of the fish and turtles in the pond. There was a crazy squirrel there that I swear tried to break down a wall of glass to get at the girls. Seriously, it was throwing itself at the window so hard that I thought it was going to give itself a head injury. I’m not a huge fan of squirrels…let’s just say they’re second only to birds in the order of things I’m not too fond of!

Here a a couple of pictures of my own wild animal – this girl is going full-tilt this summer…if we both survive the next nine weeks, it might be a small miracle!

The Lichterman Nature Center was definitely a great experience. We’ll be going back again. We only saw a small part of the center because we got there about an hour before they closed. Next time, I’ll wear more sensible shoes…tennis shoes would definitely have made walking the rock paths a lot easier! We have free summer memberships to both Lichterman and the Pink Palace, but even if you have to pay for admission, it would be worth it!

Technorati Tags: things to do in Memphis,Cousin Camp

Painting the town red….

2011-06-28T12:34:11Z

or the porch orange as the case may be.

My girls are generally pretty self-sufficient. It’s really out of necessity. Since I work from home, they are left to their own devices, probably more often than they should be. (And yes, I struggle with that guilt. a lot. Weekly I consider if they wouldn’t be better off in a structured day-care program, but then, that would really defeat the purpose of me staying home with them, wouldn’t it?) Anyway, they generally do pretty well – the house is usually trashed by the end of the day, but in the grand scheme of things, I think that’s pretty minor. Sometimes, though, things happen that remind me that Gracie and Abigail are still little girls that need more supervision than I give them.

Yesterday morning, I had a few conference calls and a meeting. A babysitter came and stayed with the girls for a few hours. My plan was to be done with work for the day by the time their sitter left. Well, that didn’t happen. I still had a few things to wrap up. So, after the girls & I had lunch on the back porch, I went back in my office to order some DVD cases for portrait sessions. The girls were in the living room watching TV. Then, I saw them go by with paint brushes and paper. I told them if they wanted to paint, they needed to go out on the front porch. I heard them opening the door and then the sounds of giggles while they created their artwork. After a few minutes, I went to check on them. Here’s what the porch looked like:

The living room floor looked almost as bad on a smaller scale. Apparently, when I saw them walking by with brushes, that was their second round of painting. And their bodies were even worse. They were both covered in orange paint. They wanted to take a bath. I told them they were too messy to come in the house. So, I did what mothers have done ever since there has been running water and filthy children:

This was after about 20 minutes of being in the sprinkler. See how orange Abigail’s hair is? At least she coordinates with her tie-dye shirt!

I wanted to be upset with them. Really, I wanted to lecture them about responsibility and creating more work for me and blah, blah, blah. But I couldn’t. Mostly, because if I had been doing what I was supposed to be doing (namely, supervising them) they wouldn’t have created such a mess. But the real reason I couldn’t be upset with them was because my heart melted when I saw this:

Their two little handprints, side by side. I love these girls of mine even when they’re painting the porch orange!

Riding The Wave

2011-06-14T20:59:54Z

Let’s just say that the last week has been hectic. After a day or two at most of being lulled into a sense of summer calm, the reality of my life broke through. Work demands, end of the year scout field trips, ballet recitals, service projects, and a host of other obligations had me feeling overwhelmed and ready for a burnout. Finally, on Sunday night, I started to see the light at the end of the tunnel (still a way off, mind you, but there nonetheless). I can feel the stresses starting to fade away and I hope that within a week or two, I’ll really be able to relax and maybe even take a day or two off from work. In the meantime, I’m trying to steal a few moments here and there and just enjoy the ride. Last night I took all four girls (it is Cousin Camp here this week) to the beach. I snapped a few pictures of them playing in the waves. Then, I joined them. I slept well last night – the sleep of someone rocked to sleep by the smell of salt air and the motion of the waves…

Good Times in the Summertime

2011-06-07T10:04:12Z

I love summer. I love that things slow down, at least a little. I love that the daily rush of wake the girls up, get the girls to school, pick the girls up from school, get the girls to after-school activities, get Gracie’s homework done, get the girls to bed at a reasonable time just flies out the window during the summer. Yes, I still have responsibilities (hello work; hello grocery shopping; hello laundry) but I still feel more relaxed. I’m so enjoying this first week of summer at home with my girls. Sometimes, life really is a bowl of cherries….

That’s all….carry on!

Emma Grace

2011-06-07T01:51:13Z

Note from me: I wrote the entry below in 2005 for babycenter.com the day after Emma Grace Hampton died from neuroblastoma. Six years ago today, she danced her way to Heaven. I will never, ever forget her. I’ve been thinking about her a lot. When she died, she was almost exactly the same age that my Abigail is today. I think there is some divine intervention that Abigail has been begging for weeks to have a Lemonade Stand for Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation (the foundation benefits pediatric cancer research and the founder, Alex Scott, died from the same type of cancer that Emma Grace had) and that the timing has worked out to have her stand this weekend. I plan on sitting down with her and explaining in 4-year-old appropriate terms about Emma Grace and what a special little girl she was and what we can do to honor her legacy.

EMMA GRACE

Whispers From Heaven
Yesterday was a typical Monday for me. I picked Gracie up from daycare and she was in her usual Monday afternoon mood – the one I call full of spit and vinegar. I had forgotten her after-school snack and sippy cup of water, which was doing little to enhance her attitude. I needed to stop by the grocery store to pick up some jalapeños for our chili for dinner. As we pulled into the grocery store parking lot, the heavens let loose. It was one of those hard and fast summer rains that the south is famous for. “Great”, I mumbled to myself. How was I going to get Gracie into the store without soaking her? Just one more thing added to my Monday – I could feel the beginnings of a migraine creeping up my neck. What were my options? Get the umbrella out and try and manage it and her – cover her up with her blankie and then deal with it and her – forget about the jalapeños – who needs flavor in their chili? Just then, I heard something whispering in my soul. “Daphne, it’s only a little cleansing rain. Why protect Gracie from it – let her enjoy it.” I listened. I got Gracie out of her car seat and put her down in the parking lot. We walked into the store, rain soaking both of us. We held hands and stomped in water puddles and Gracie giggled, the rain washing away her bad mood. It was a little after four in the afternoon. We went in the store and, of course, Gracie pitched a multitude of fits, but I was still glad we’d had our little dance in the rain. It wasn’t until late last night that I learned that about the time Gracie and I were playing in the rain, Emma Grace Hampton was leaving this world, flying home to Heaven. Coincidence? Perhaps. Or maybe, just maybe, that little whisper of a voice I heard was one of Emma Grace’s first acts as an angel.

Meeting A Spirit-filled Angel
I met Emma Grace on Easter Sunday of 2004. Steve, Gracie, & I were visiting my sister’s family. Gracie was not quite three months old and I was still in that early stage of motherhood where I was afraid of everything – afraid of SIDS, afraid of driving with her, afraid that she wasn’t getting enough to eat, afraid that she wasn’t pooping enough or that she was pooping too much. On Sunday afternoon, my brother-in-law’s family was coming over for a buffet brunch. About 11:00 that morning, my sister’s sister-in-law called and asked if they could bring another family with them. My sister’s eight-year-old niece has a type of leukemia and is a patient at St. Jude’s in Memphis. The family that her mother wanted to bring also had a child with cancer receiving treatment at St. Jude’s. Emma Grace was three years old and had a type of cancer called neuroblastoma, a cancer that, until that day, I had never heard of. (I’ve since learned that it is a horrible disease that robs too many families of their beloved children). My sister immediately said that anyone was welcome in her home. So, we prepared for the arrival of Emma Grace and her family. We knew that Emma Grace was a very sick little girl, that her cancer was relentless, that her family was reaching the end of treatment options and that her chances of long-term survival were not great. I was expecting a frail, sickly child, one who would spend most of the afternoon lying on the couch.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a bigger misconception about anyone.

Emma Grace burst into my sister’s kitchen that afternoon, dressed like a princess for Easter. Her dark curls bobbed as she ran and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. She changed from her princess dress to clothes more practical for an Easter Egg Hunt and she joined the other kids darting through the yard looking for plastic eggs. She would stumble a little each time she bent to pick up an egg; her balance was off because she carried a five pound St. Jude backpack holding her medicines and fluids. But, nothing deterred her. She laughed and squealed with delight. I wish I could have bottled those childish giggles from all the little ones as they ran through the yard… It was a remarkable day.

Talking to Emma Grace’s parents, Barney and Trish, was uplifting. They were full of hope that the treatments options they were pursuing would be Emma Grace’s cure. Yet, they were fully aware of the odds stacked against them. They were living each day to the fullest with their baby girl, trying to fill her life with joy during difficult times, trying to let her be what she most wanted to be: a happy little girl.

Emma Grace and her family gave me something invaluable that day: a glimpse into the life of a family struggling every day for the life of their child. My new mommy worries seemed so much less overwhelming after meeting them. They showed me joy in the midst of sorrow, hope in the middle of a trial that I can’t imagine, and a faith that gave them peace in the middle of a storm of unimaginable proportions. That faith, that God holds them all in the palm of His hand, gave them the strength to face their darkest days.

Fly high, sweet Emma Grace. Trish, Barney, and Bubba Eli: my prayers are with you and please know that your sweet angel touched all those who were blessed to meet her.

Rethinking Gracie

2011-05-23T03:27:28Z

Gracie had her very first “real” dance recital yesterday. It’s been a long time coming. Two years ago, she took dance for a whole year. The place where she danced had a kind of pseudo recital end-of-the-year dance program. It wasn’t anything to write home about…Gracie actually danced with only one shoe because she’d left her other ballet slipper at a friend’s house and I didn’t check her bag until about two minutes before the program. Last year, both Gracie and Abigail danced for half of the year, but after everything that went on with my dad through November and December, they missed a lot of lessons and it just didn’t make sense to continue through the year.

This year, Gracie took ballet and tap after school on Tuesdays. I think she missed one lesson the entire year. And it was all leading up to this – her recital on Saturday.

It was not without drama, of course. She brought home her costume two weeks ago. I didn’t try it on her because she said she tried it on at lessons. Friday night, I finally convinced her to let me see her in it. It was small. Really small. So small in fact that I called one of her friends to see if maybe they’d gotten their costumes mixed up. I called the dance teacher (who I’m sure thought I was a complete idiot). No, there was no costume mix-up. She’d intentionally ordered Gracie the smaller costume and yes, she tried it on her. So, all was good.

When we got to the auditorium on Saturday morning, I thought for sure that Gracie would have a complete meltdown. It was loud…it was crowded…it was chaotic. And the little girl I know and love does not handle situations like that well at all. She loses it and cries and clings to me. Sure enough, as soon as we walked through the doors backstage, I felt a quick jerk on my shirt. Gracie was looking up at me with confusion in her eyes. My poor baby, I thought. This is going to be too much for her. “It’s okay, baby! Really, I promise you’ll be all right.” She replied, “I’m fine Mommy! I just don’t think this is where I’m supposed to be – no one else has on a costume like me.” I assured her that we just hadn’t gone far enough into the depths of the backstage area. I would have bet my last dollar that at any moment, Gracie was going to collapse on the floor in a heap of tears. I didn’t expect this:

She was in her element from the moment she found her friends until the last shuffle step of her final number.

I realized last night after the end of a busy day that I need to “rethink” Gracie. I still keep expecting her to act the way she did two years ago. I still expect her to be socially immature for her age. Because, for so very long she was. She has grown up so much this year that I can barely keep up. She still struggles sometimes, but much less than she used to. It’s easier for her to make friends. She has fewer meltdowns in public. (Her meltdowns are still epic at home – tonight she was completely out of control). But, she’s learning to get a handle on her emotions. If you had told me two years ago that Gracie would be able to dance on stage in front of hundreds of people, I’d have laughed. But yesterday, she did. With a smile on her face that was only matched by the one on mine.

Pink Champagne Cake

2011-05-21T01:29:48Z

I made this dessert for our Mother’s Day Tea a few weeks ago (I seriously need to blog about that and where I came up with the idea for it…soon, very soon). Anyway, I wanted to make a pretty cake with a slightly different flavor and this fit both bills.

It is a pink champagne cake with pink champagne buttercream frosting tinted pink and white. It was good. Really, really good. It was also sweet. Very, very sweet. Like I could only eat a tiny slice. Gracie, however, would have eaten the whole thing in one sitting if I let her. And that girl generally doesn’t like cake.

Anyway, I saw the ruffled cake on Martha Stewart sometime in March. (Steve, if you’re reading this…yes, I go to Martha Stewart’s website. Often. Very often. Steve does not like Martha Stewart. There are some things we agree to disagree about in our marriage. Martha is one of them ) So, I knew how I wanted to decorate it early on.

Then, sometime in April I saw a recipe for Pink Champagne Cake in a magazine. It looked wonderful. So I put a bookmark on the magazine page and then promptly lost the entire magazine. So, two days before the tea I was scouring the internet for pink champagne cake recipes. Luckily, I found several!

Some of the cake recipes where from scratch. I would have liked to have tried one, but they were fairly labor intensive. I knew I wanted to make homemade frosting and I was cooking several other things for the Tea, so my time was somewhat limited. I decided to take the easy path and start with a cake mix and doctor it up.

I knew I wanted a tall cake and I realized after I finished the pink champagne cake that I didn’t have as much height as I wanted, so I made up a white cake mix for the center layer (I used 1/2 the mix and made cupcakes with the other 1/2). I used whole eggs instead of the egg whites that the box called for so the cake would be dense enough to not collapse under the top layer of pink champagne cake. If you don’t care about height, you could certainly leave this layer out. I think it looked really pretty, though, with the white and pink cake together!

So, here’s the recipe:

Pink Champagne Cake

1 box French Vanilla cake mix (you could use a white cake mix)

1 1/3 cups pink champagne, chilled (if you’re using the white mix, just replace the liquid amount with equal parts champagne)

1/3 cup vegetable oil

3 large eggs

1- 2 Tablespoons pink food coloring (use more or less to get the color you want)

Mix cake as directed on box (mix in the food coloring after you’ve already combined and mixed everything else). Pour into 2 prepared 8 inch round cake pans. Bake as directed.

After baking, let the cakes cool in the pans for five minutes. Then, remove them from the pan and let them cool completely on a wire cooling rack. Frost with Pink Champagne Buttercream Frosting.

Pink Champagne Buttercream Frosting

1 cup butter, softened
4 cups powdered sugar
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup champagne
1 tablespoon vanilla
5-5 1/2 cups additional powdered sugar

Pink food coloring

Beat butter for 30 seconds. Gradually add 4 cups powdered sugar. Beat in milk, champagne and vanilla. Gradually beat in 5-5 1/2 more cups powdered sugar until it reaches the consistency you want. Add food coloring a drop at a time to the frosting until it reaches the color you want.

**Note: If you can’t find or don’t have pink food coloring, you can use red – you’ll just use less***

Enjoy with a glass of cold mike or a flute of champagne!

What’s The Big Deal?

2011-04-24T16:24:56Z

John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

Please do not think me blasphemous when I tell you something: Years ago, when I first became a Christian, I didn’t understand the big deal about Easter. Don’t get me wrong…I understood from an intellectual standpoint. I understood that Jesus was taking the punishment for all of our sins so that we could live in Heaven. Forever. I was certainly appreciative of the act, but what I missed out on was the sacrifice.

I have somewhat of a mathematical mind…by nature I tend to add things up in my mind, balance numbers, add, subtract, multiply and divide until things make sense. And somehow in my mathematical mind, I’d decided that the sacrifices that Jesus made for us were worth the cost. Yes, he suffered on the cross but relatively, that suffering only lasted for a little while. And, yes, he was separated from his Father for more than thirty years, but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t really too long. Mathematically, thirty years compared to eternity seems like just a drop in the bucket. And look at the gains….Jesus saved ALL of us for that tiny time of suffering. Obviously, I am an idiot.

I totally missed the point. But, as God often does, He sent someone to teach me a lesson. On January 22^nd, 2004, I was handed an epiphany by a nurse in light blue scrubs and a white surgical hat. From the moment I held my baby girl, my entire perspective changed. I realized, in an instant, what God gave up for me and you. Because, here’s the thing: if the world were waiting on me to sacrifice either of my children so that it might be saved; well, the world would still be waiting. I would not stand by and watch my children being insulted and tortured for anyone, much less liars and thieves.

When I realized that was exactly what God had done for me, it literally brought me to my knees. There is no greater sacrifice than the one He made for us. Since that day, I have never read John 3:16 in the same light. He didn’t just give His son to us – he gave His son to us to be hurt, emotionally and physically. And He stood by and let it happen. I cannot imagine the pain and the anguish it must have caused God. How could He possibly love me, you, anyone that much? How could we possibly be worth that much of a sacrifice? And now? Well, let’s just say that now I realize that Easter is beyond a big deal. It is the biggest deal of all.

(The picture at the top is one that Gracie drew to go with my writing…I can’t think of a better illustrator for my words! I hope you all have a blessed and amazing Easter!)

Resurrection Rolls

2011-04-22T19:17:00Z

Last year, my friend Emily sent me an email with instructions to make these rolls. The girls and I made them, using crescent rolls, marshmallows and cinnamon & sugar. We enjoyed them, but they didn't rise as much as I wanted. I found a recipe on the web that used frozen rise and bake dinner rolls and I thought they might get a little more height so that the effect of the empty tomb would be more dramatic.

After a failed attempt yesterday (I set the rolls out to thaw and then got caught up with work and before I knew it, the rolls had risen and it was too late to add the marshmallows).

This morning,I got up bright and early and put a handful of the frozen rolls on a greased cookie sheet and covered them with saran wrap sprayed with cooking spray.

I let them thaw for a little over an hour, until they were soft but not yet starting to rise. Then, I woke my two little helpers up. They were excited to do this project, so waking them up was fairly easy.

Next, we patted the rolls down until they were flat. And, of course, Gracie had to try the dough!

Here’s where I decided to try something a bit different. All the recipes I’ve seen call for regular-sized marshmallows. I decided to use the giant ones (I found mine at Wal-Mart right beside the regular-sized ones). I thought that the larger marshmallow might create a bigger tomb. To cover the large marshmallow, I combined three of the dinner rolls. (I only have two combined in this picture…but I realized that I needed three)

Cover the marshmallow completely with the dough.

Put some butter on your rolled-up marshmallow. There are two ways to do this: 1)The Abigail Method…completely submerge the thing in melted butter.

or 2)The Gracie/Artistic Method….”paint” on some melted butter with a pastry brush.

Now, roll the buttery dough in cinnamon sugar. (use 4 parts sugar to 1 part cinnamon). Again, this would be Abigail’s method…dump the entire bowl of cinnamon sugar over the top of your roll.

It might or might not be a good idea to taste one of the large marshmallows. (Let’s just say Abigail was a complete pill after the sugar high from this wore off!)

Put your rolls on a greased cookie sheet and cover them again with saran wrap sprayed with cooking spray.

Let them rise for a least an hour. We left and went to church to bake some sugar cookies for the Egg Scramble on Sunday. We were gone about two hours. When we came home, here’s what our rolls looked like:

Pop them in the oven at 350 degrees for about 15-20 minutes (mine could have cooked a few minutes longer). Transfer them to a wire rack to cool. Then, cut them open with a serrated knife.

Gracie read Matthew 28:5-6 (The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.”)

And Abigail had the honor of rolling the “stone” away from the front of the tomb.

The tomb is empty!!! He is risen!!!

Now, dinner rolls don’t often bring tears to my eyes, but these did. Watching my girls’ excitement about the empty tomb was so, so special. And, I think the large marshmallows and the rise and bake bread did make a difference. I hope you all enjoy this holy weekend.

March Roundup

2011-04-06T00:59:39Z

Here are my March Project 365 pictures. I really can’t believe I’ve made it through 1/4 of the year and I’m still keeping up! I haven’t been creating weekly pages, but I’ve been uploading my pictures and journaling each one of them, so when I have a chunk of time (in 57,000 years ), I should be able to quickly and easily make the pages. March was a busy month for us…I know I sound like a broken record, but it was!

Steve had surgery on his knee and was home from work for two weeks. My brother and his family came through for a visit, my mom was here for a couple of weeks (and bought a house down the road from us!). We had playdates and school field trips and birthday parties. I think one of the things I love sooooo much about doing Project 365 is that it helps me to remember the little details of our lives that I seem to forget. I tend to think that the months fly by and I don’t accomplish anything, but when I look back at the pictures, I realize that there is a reason I don’t finish all the crafts and books and sewing and writing that I want to finish…I’m too busy living my crazy, wonderful life with my family!

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the month:

My baby niece, Michaela…she reminds me so much of Gracie when she was this age…

Abigail playing in her kitchen. She loves this thing…I was worried she might be a little old for it, but she plays with it almost every day and Gracie actually enjoys it, too! I’m so glad Santa brought it for her!

Here’s Gracie saying a prayer for her daddy on the morning of his surgery. I love how faithful she is with her prayers. I am so thankful that he came through the surgery just fine and seems to be well on his way to a full recovery.

And this picture may be my favorite one of the entire month. I took it with my iPhone. I think part of the reason I’ve been able to keep up with my pictures this year is that I have told myself that my pictures don’t need to be technically “good”; they just need to tell a story, so I ‘ll take pictures with whatever tool is available. Gracie wrote this prayer request without any prompting from me. I wasn’t even in the room when she did it. I am so blessed and proud to be her mommy. (And I have to giggle about the way she signed her name…I think she was going for something along the lines of Whitley, Grace A. but I like it this way better ).

And, now we’re in to April – I’m excited for another month that promises to be just as busy…we’ve got Spring Break coming up, a much-anticipated trip to see my sister, some fun photo sessions for friends, and who knows what else! Happy April!

The World’s Ugliest Cupcakes

2011-03-31T13:40:38Z

A couple of weeks ago, a little red Netflix envelope arrived in our mailbox. Tucked safely inside was the best movie I’ve seen in years. Secretariat was simply awesome…I loved watching every minute of it.

This post isn’t really a review of the movie. If it was, my words would be peppered with things like “awesome”, “amazing”, “great story”, “beautifully executed”. Not one of those words could be used to describe the horse cupcakes that we made for our snack for movie night. I give you what could possibly be the world’s ugliest cupcake:

I think it looks like an old mare that’s been left outside for one too many days and has never seen the better side of a curry brush. But, I had to remind myself that the appearance of the end result is not the important thing for our movie night snacks. The important thing is that the girls enjoy it. I’m starting to think though, that Abigail has led somewhat of a sheltered life, at least when it comes to horses. Because, she went running out of the kitchen when we finished them and yelled, “Daddy! Daddy! You’ve got to come see the horsey cupcakes that Mommy made! THEY! ARE! SOOOOOO! BEAUTIFUL!” Really, how can I not love that girl?

Gracie enjoyed making them, too. Of course, she didn’t want any part of eating the circus peanuts that made up the horses’ heads. But, she was pretty proud of herself for helping to make them.

Since the move was, at least in part, about the Kentucky Derby, I decided to make a traditional Louisville dish…Kentucky Hot Browns. They were absolutely yummy! (And I think they looked better than the cupcakes, too!)

So, to sum this post up in one short paragraph: If you haven’t seen Secretariat, watch it. Soon! If you make horse cupcakes, don’t expect them to be beautiful. And, if you want a yumilicious dinner to get you in the spirit of the movie, make yourself a Kentucky Hot Brown.

An Artist At Work

2011-03-30T15:01:37Z

The girls are definitely cultivating different interests right now. Gracie, to quote Abigail “always has her face in a book!” And Abigail is constantly drawing and coloring. She’s been sketching pictures of flowers and rainbows for the last couple of months. A few weeks ago, she started branching out to portraits. Her favorite subjects are Ella Bella (our dog) and Gracie. As her skills increase, she’s starting to add more details to her pictures. She drew this one of her sister the other night:

I was sitting on the couch with Gracie when Abigail showed the picture to me. I kind of raised an eyebrow, wondering what Gracie would think. I said, “Gracie, I didn’t know that you had two noses!”

Gracie glanced at the picture, shrugged her shoulders, and said, very nonchalnatly. “Actually, I believe those are supposed to by my nostrils!”

I laughed so hard that I thought I would cry. Gracie just stuck her nose back in her book and kept reading and Abigail went back to coloring.

My Daddy’s Jambalaya Recipe

2011-03-16T11:36:31Z

Two things about this jambalaya: 1. I think it’s impossible for me to get a good picture of it. Rice dishes are really difficult, at least for me, to photograph. My mom looked at this picture and said “Yuck! I don’t think I’ll ever eat jambalaya again.” I don’t think the picture is that bad, but oh well. 2. There is a slightly unusual (and somewhat low-brow) ingredient in this recipe, but please don’t let that deter you from trying it!

This was, as far as I know, the only jambalaya recipe my dad ever made. I think he found it in the Times Picayune when he and my mother moved back to Louisiana after being away for twenty years. I love this recipe and every time I make it for someone, it gets rave reviews. My dad used to make it with shrimp or crawfish and sausage. I always make it with chicken and two kinds of sausage. Really, I think you could use whatever kind of meat, you’d like.

Jambalaya Recipe

1 1/2 cups dried rice

8 tablespoons of butter

1 bunch of green onions, chopped

1/2 bunch of parsley

1 15 oz. can of chicken broth

1 15 oz. can of diced tomatoes (I use the kind with garlic, onion, and oregano)

1 15 oz. can of hot water

1 pound of cooked, chopped chicken tenders

1/2 pound of kielbasa, sliced

1/2 pound of smaller, smoked sausage (I use Conecuh smoked sausage), sliced

1 tablespoon of juice from a jar of sliced jalapenos.

1 15 oz. jar of Cheese Whiz (yes, this is the ingredient I warned you about!)

Directions

Melt butter in a stockpot on medium heat

Brown the rice for a minute or two in the butter

Add the green onions, parsley, chicken broth, diced tomatoes, and hot water to the pot. Increase heat and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat low, cover, and let simmer until the liquid is absorbed (between 20 and 30 minutes).

Add the chicken and the sausage

Stir the jalapeno juice into the cheese whiz and then add the jalapeno cheese whiz to the jambalaya mixture. Stir well. Let the entire thing simmer on low for 10-15 minutes to allow the flavors to meld. Serve with warm, crusty french bread and a salad. Yum, yum, and yum!

Tuesday’s Treat {Mardi Gras}

2011-03-14T11:35:09Z

Last Tuesday’s Treat was a bit different. Abigail & I didn’t head out to a museum or a restaurant. Instead we stayed home for the morning and baked a King Cake with Abigail’s friend who came to spend the day with us. The girls had a great time! At noon, we went and checked Gracie out of school and headed to the Mardi Gras parade in Orange Beach. All three girls ended up with a ton of beads, stuffed animals, a variety of moon pies, and some plastic coins. It was a long day, but a great one! I’m glad Abigail and I got to share our Tuesday Treat this week with her friend and her sissy!

Half of a Lifetime

2011-03-13T18:46:05Z

Twenty-one years ago last week, I celebrated my 21st birthday. If that math is as complicated for you as it was for me (it took me far longer to figure this out than it should have), I’ll help you out. Last week, I turned 42.

I took a little time to reflect. Okay, really, I reflected earlier in the week, because truthfully, yesterday was too much of a whirlwind for me to have time to breathe, much less reflect.

My 21st birthday was monumental, and not really for the obvious reasons. I was a junior in college and I had a fairly low-key day and evening. I did enjoy part of a bottle of champagne with some friends. And, my parents bought me the aquamarine ring set in white gold that I had been coveting for months. I wore that ring every day until Steve bought me an amethyst ring on our honeymoon, twelve years later. At about 11:00 p.m. on the night of my 21st birthday, there was a knock on my dorm room door and on the other side was my current crush. He was an interesting man. He was from Poland, his accent was thick and he had a reputation as somewhat of a ladies’ man. Certainly, he was handsome, but I think I was more fascinated by the idea that he was the only person I have ever known who has fired an AK-47. That, and that he wore a silver cross on a chain around his neck. I was struck by that contrast. Anyway, he’d stopped by to talk – we often did that, staying up late into the night discussing politics and poetry. I shared some of my champagne with him and for some reason, he gave me his sweater. I don’t think I took that sweat off for ten days. I remember, after he left, thinking that day was the most perfect birthday I would ever have. Now, half a lifetime away, I realize that it wasn’t that birthday, but in fact the day after my perfect birthday that shaped the rest of my life.

On March 6th, 1990, my friend Michelle and I loaded up her car and headed to Daytona Beach to pick up our friend Kim. We left Daytona late and drove through the night, arriving in Pensacola for spring break just as dawn was breaking. As we drove into town, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was coming home. It was a feeling that grew throughout the week and grew even stronger when we returned for spring break the next year. That feeling was so strong that I moved down here just after graduation. Michelle followed soon thereafter. She met a Navy man here, married him, and has moved around the country with him. But, I’d hazard a guess that she has a fondness for Pensacola.

And me?

Well, you know the rest of the story. I found a job, bought a house, met the man of my dreams, and had two precious little girls. All in this town that I came to the day after my 21st birthday.

And yesterday, I realized that the birthday I had thought was so perfect twenty-one years ago paled into comparison to my life now. I spent the day surrounded by friends and family and I felt nothing but loved.

My friends surprised me with a cupcake from Oh! Snap when we were at church for The Tour of Tables. The gazllion people that were there sang Happy Birthday to me. And while a small part of me wanted to dissolve into the floor from embarassment, mostly I was just overwhelmed with joy and the amazing kindness of my friends.

When I pulled into my driveway after the luncheon, I was greeted with balloons and a sign drawn by Steve and the girls. (And more Oh! Snap cupcakes…the people in my life definitely know my fondness for those). The girls gave me earrings and Steve told me I could order the Silhouette cutting machine I’ve been coveting for months. Cupcakes, jewelry, and craft supplies? What could be more perfect?

Steve and I went out for dinner at Cobalt. It was delicious, as always. And as we were driving home, I looked over at him, this man I married. And realized that while this man doesn’t have a thick accent (well, at least not a foreign one..I don’t think any one would deny that his Southern drawl is readily apparent to anyone who talks to him) and we rarely, if ever, talk about poetry (and only occasionally politics since we have very differing views of government), I find him far more interesting (and handsome) than the AK-47-toting poet from Poland. My life is certainly different than I expected it to be 21 years ago. It is far, far richer and much, much fuller than I ever could have imagined. I’m twice as old as I was 21 years ago, and a hundred times happier.

Crazy Days

2011-03-05T15:14:15Z

It’s been a crazy week. Stress has been my best friend. Put it this way: yesterday my car broke down in the middle of the road, waiting in car line to pick up Gracie and two of her friends. And, after a moment of panic, I wasn’t really stressed about it at all because I was so done with being stressed that I wasn’t going to let anything get to me.

Thursday was probably the craziest of the days. My friend Lara and I are decorating a table for The Tour of Tables at our church and I think we’ve put some undue pressure on ourselves because of our theme. (I’ll tell you more about that tomorrow when I can show pictures of the table). And, we’re on the tail end of out Girl Scout Cookie Sales. Lara is doing the bulk of the work for that, but just the whole “what are we going to do with leftover cookies? Can we get extras to this person and that person?” is a bit overwhelming. And, we had a Girl Scout service unit meeting Thursday night and an Easter Egg hunt planning meeting for church. I think Lara was probably as stressed as I was this week. We decided to divide and conquer the meetings since there was no way both of us could be at both of them. I got the easier meeting – the one for the Easter Egg hunt. It was shorter and closer by. Still, by the time I got home, I was spent from the day and the days leading up to it. So, what did I do? I stayed up until midnight. Sewing. I was finishing up some projects for our table. I thought it was going to be a real chore. But when I finished, I realized I felt good. Really good. It felt amazing to finish a project. I need to remember that…sometimes the things I put off because I think they’re going to drive me crazy are actually the things I enjoy.

I know I’m rambling…I’m tired . So, I’ll leave you with a little peek at my sewing projects (I made a table runner and napkins from curtain panels) and a couple of things from our table. I’ll be back to show you the finished table sometime soon.

Greeting The Day

2011-03-03T11:14:00Z

Yesterday morning, after Gracie left for school, and Steve left for work, I went into the bedroom to wake Abigail up for school. The sun was streaming through the window and she looked so warm and snuggly tucked up in her little bed. I grabbed my camera, opened up the blinds to let the light in, stood at the end of her bed, and waited.

Sure enough, as the bright light hit her face, Abigail started to wake up. And I started to snap the shutter.

Here’s my baby as she greets the day:

The basset hound look…

I think if everyone woke up with this smile on their face, the world would be a happier place…just saying

Stretching…

Back down for a few extra minutes..

Tuesday’s Treat {Krispy Kreme}

2011-03-03T03:26:20Z

I can feel the clock ticking. Faster and faster it goes; minutes and days pass by in the blink of an eye. My time left with Abigail home with me during the day is rapidly disappearing. In August, she’ll start preschool five days a week. Granted, she’ll only go for half the day, but there’s not enough time between when her school gets out and when Gracie’s does for Abigail and I to do anything together. So, I plan on taking full advantage of these last few months of Abigail only going to school three days a week.

Right now, Tuesdays are our day together. And while I’d like to say that we spend them just doing things together, that is just not the case. What happens, more often than not, is that I get bogged down with something at work or some other project I’m working on. It seems like if we stay home, the day just slips away from me. So, I’ve decided that we’ll start heading out somewhere each Tuesday, even if it’s only for a little while. And, we’ll grab lunch or a snack somewhere. Maybe we’ll take in a museum or two. Just spend time together, a mommy and her preschooler.

I’ve got a coupon book, a couple of Groupons, and a handful of restaurant coupons that we’re going to use to make our excursions inexpensive. And, some of the weeks, we may just hang out at the park with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I want to relish this time I have with my baby before I blink and she’s a kindergartener!

So, this Tuesday, I had to head down to the office to pick up a laptop. But, afterwards, we took some Krispy Kreme coupons that Steve gave us for Valentine’s Day and headed to the land of Hot Doughnuts Now! Abigail had fun; the doughnuts were good; and they didn’t cost us a single penny.

Abigail enjoyed watching the doughnuts move down the conveyor belt. I enjoyed watching her fascination. Definitely a good treat!

What Are The Odds?

2011-03-01T17:01:00Z

Long, long ago in a universe far, far away that involved me, Steve, and only one child, I wrote a weekly journal for Babycenter.com. I was talking with a friend this weekend about odds and risks and it made me think of this journal entry. So, I’m posting it here. I wrote this when Gracie had her ear tube surgery in 2005, when she was seventeen months old. I’ve been wanting to transfer those weekly entries over here and I thought now was as good a time as any to start!

What Are The Odds?

Was Gracie ever really this little?

Are you comforted when you're getting ready to do something (or send your baby into something) that is fraught with danger and the person responsible for you or your child says, "Really, you have more of a risk from getting killed in your car on the way to the _____" (insert here wherever the dangerous thing is happening: hospital, dentist's office, airport) "than you do during _________" (insert here the dangerous thing: the surgery, the root canal, your flight over the Bermuda triangle during a typhoon)? If you are one of those people that are comforted by that statement, can you come to my house and teach me how? I am not in the least little bit relieved when someone tells me this. In fact, it just adds to my worry - not only do I spend time biting my nails and tossing in my sleep worrying about the actual thing that is dangerous, now I have to worry about getting killed on the way there!

Ditto about hearing about odds of things happening. I'm not really a big odds person. You know those contests on plastic soda bottles that say: 1 in 12 wins free Coke. After drinking at least 150 of them, I'm still waiting for my free Coke. What are those odds? Gracie seems to have inherited my luck with odds. The chances of a baby being transverse breech are like 1 in 2,500. Guess who was transverse: yep, my sweet little stubborn girl never would turn. I had a friend once that believed that all odds were 50/50 - either something was going to happen or it wasn't going to happen. Your odds of winning the lottery - 50/50. Your odds of getting run over by a pig driving a corvette - 50/50. Those odds make sense to me, but when someone tells me, “The odds of something bad happening are like 1 in 10,000”, I’m confused. Okay, great but what if I’m the one? I don't like to even think about things where the odds are astronomical - like saying even to myself, "nothing could happen - I mean what are the odds?" That's like painting a big bullseye on your head and just tempting Lady Luck to rain down on you. I remember two months ago thinking to myself, "I'm not going to worry about hurricane season this year. What are the odds of two major hurricanes coming through our town in back to back seasons?" And we know how that turned out.....

So I spent last week listening to surgeons, anesthesiologists, nurse anesthetists, surgical nurses, and doctor’s office receptionists all explaining to me that the odds of something happening to Gracie while she was under anesthesia were astronomically low and that there was a far greater risk of having a car accident on the way to the hospital than of her having a reaction to either the gas or the sedative they give her to calm down. (Are they taught the car accident spiel in medical school?) They say this with a smile on their face while they hand me consent forms to sign that say I won’t hold any of them responsible and that I fully understand that anesthesia carries with it inherent risk, including heart attacks, brain damage, and death. Okay, if the risk is greater driving to the hospital, where’s my consent form for driving? Somehow, I managed to sign all the forms and nodded my head almost calmly through all the paper work on the morning of her surgery. Ideally, Steve would have been listening and nodding his head and signing the papers and I could have lived in the comfortable world of ignorance, but when Gracie is in an unfamiliar location, no one but Daddy will do. So, he was sitting on the other side of the pre-op room, snuggling our precious little girl while I was having the scary talks with all of the professional people.
Once we got all the paperwork out of the way, a nurse brought Gracie a sedative to keep her calm before they took her back to the operating room. I guess they forgot to bring mine. They loaded her up in a big plastic wagon with her pacie, her blankie, her Roo, and some stickers. She was as calm as I have ever seen her, laid up in the wagon like a show dog. My child who has a very healthy dose of separation anxiety didn't even whimper when she was wheeled away from us. As they pulled her slowly away, through the double doors to the operating room, I fought the urge deep in my gut to chase after them, grab the wagon and wheel her right on out of the hospital. But I didn’t – I let her go. And you know what? It was okay – for once Gracie went with the odds and she was fine. After a short period of extreme fussiness (where, after what felt like two hours I asked Steve, “How long is THIS going to last?” and he replied, “Well, longer than two minutes.” ), a slightly longer period of toddler drunkenness when we got home, and an even longer nap, she was back to being the child I adore. The tiny little blue tubes in her ears really don’t seem to have changed much of anything. Is she hearing better? I don't know. Is she going to be healthier? I don’t know that either. All I know is that the odds worked in our favor and she’s fine and happy and safe and home in my arms....

Hello March, where did you come from?

2011-03-01T15:54:53Z

February, where did thou go?

February was rough around here on a lot of levels. We spent a lot of time on the road, I was sick most of the month, Steve suffered with his knee (hopefully, he’ll have surgery scheduled within the next week or so and his pain will be alleviated), our sheltie had some suspicious results on some blood work (luckily, she’s totally fine..it was a bit worrisome for a week while we waited for the retest), Gracie missed a lot of school, I cracked a tooth and had to have a crown (and you may not know this about me, but I’d rather go through an emergency c-section without anesthesia than spend any time in the dentist’s chair…okay may not without anesthesia, but you get the picture). And, those were just the mildly troublesome things that happened. Because in the middle of all that and the normal scouts, school, church, dance, work craziness of our lives, my Uncle Terry died suddenly and unexpectedly.

He was only 66 years old and his death was a shock to all of us. I didn’t get to see him often, but I enjoyed the time I did get to spend with him. He was funny and loud and overflowing with personality. I loved him. My girls? Well, my girls adored him. Every time we go to visit my grandfather, they ask if Uncle Terry is going to be there. He had a soft spot for my girls and my nieces and I hope they gave him as much joy as he gave them. I’m thankful that we got to see him last July and celebrate what ended up being his final birthday with him. I’m glad he got that last piece of Angel Food cake.

So, a good portion of the month was filled with sadness and worry. I was worried about both my grandmother and my grandfather. I can’t imagine the agony of losing a child, no matter how old that child is. And, I’m worried about my mother for a myriad of reasons. No, it wasn’t an easy month at all.

But, when I look back at the pictures from the month (yes, I’m somewhat proud of myself that I kept up with my daily pictures throughout everything), I realize that mixed in with the sadness and the sickness and the stress and the worry, there was a lot of joy and fun in February.

Gracie went to not one, but two sleepovers this month. And.she.actually.stayed.the.WHOLE.night.BOTH.TIMES. My child – the one who doesn’t want to go to college unless I go and stay in the room with her. The one who wants to go to India and China and London and Paris, but only if I go with her and hold her hand the entire time. My child who swore she would never, ever, spend an night away from me willingly. She was a little nervous to go to the first sleepover, but it was a wonderful experience for her. She was so excited to go to the second one. I think we’ve definitely turned a corner!

I got to see my sister and my nieces twice this month. And, really, what could possibly be wrong with a month where that happens?

I’ve spent some quality time with Abigail this month…we went to the planetarium with her class, to the grand opening of our church Thrift store, to the Dr. Seuss reading day at Target. I’m loving watching her change from a toddler into a little girl – she’s just amazing to me.

I have so much to look forward to this month…fun events at church, Mardi Gras, my birthday, St. Patrick’s Day, dinner out at our favorite restaurant with Steve.

I’ll leave you with some of my favorite pictures from this month.

This if from a mini photo session that I did with the girls after ballet.

Gracie’s school Valentines. She was so proud of them (I was, too!)

The Morleys in Meridian celebrating Gracie and Emmie’s birthdays.

Gracie reading the Gideon Bible in the hotel in Meridian. She was reading John 3:16. I’m blown away by her faith sometimes.

Gracie and two of her best buddies headed out to one of the sleepovers.

Abigail at the Dr. Seuss birthday celebration at Target. Contrary to what the picture looks like, she really did enjoy herself. Why she looks like she’s being tortured, I’ll never know..

And finally, a reminder. Gracie picked this for me at Fort Barrancas this weekend. The girls are always picking flowers and weeds for me. But, something about this flower made me stop and think. They are not always going to pick me flowers. One day, in the not too distant future, they’re going to stop doing this. Does this make me sad? Well, maybe a little. But, I know that the flower-picking will be replaced with something else that I love just as much – a hug after a high-school football game, a kiss on my cheek after college graduation, a postcard from a foreign country they’re visiting after working with the Peace Corps (okay, maybe I’m projecting a little here). But, it does remind me that I need to appreciate the little things that make my girls who they are right now. I’m so lucky…my blessings are greater than the petals on this flower and I am thankful for each and every one of them.

A Small Sense of Accomplishment

2011-02-01T23:10:17Z

I did it! I did it! I did it! I took a picture every day in January. I’ve accomplished that before in past years, but I’ve never managed to actually get the pictures organized and something written about them. This year I did it and I have to admit, I’m pretty proud of myself.

My other goals for the month? Well, they didn’t turn out so great. - I was going to walk 25 miles (I walked 3). I was going to sew 4 things (I sewed none). I was going to read my new devotional every day (I read about 10 days). I’m going to try and accomplish more in February.

January was a great month. Gracie learned to ride her bike without training wheels and she turned seven. 7!!! How is that possible? She had a three-day birthday party – one with friends at the park, one with just us at the movies, and one with Great-Gran and Harry the day after her birthday. Nothing like a little celebrating!

Abigail had play dates and field trips and time with me. She’s learning more and more of her letters and loving preschool. I’m enjoying a little professional photography downtime after a crazy November and December. My programming jobs are keeping me busy and I’m really enjoying writing some interesting code.

Steve was doing great until he hurt his knee at work last Thursday. He’ll be off work for a little while until a doctor clears him to return, so that will make things interesting around here for at least a week or so. It will be nice to spend some more time with him, but I know he’s antsy to get back to work.

Overall, life is wonderful! Did I mention that one of my February goals is to blog more? So, maybe I’ll be here a little more often this month.

I’ll leave you with a couple of my favorite pictures from this month:

Steve helping Gracie learn to ride her bike…look at that smile on her face!

Blowing out all seven of her candles..

My snow princess…she asked to have her hair curled before Dads and Desserts at her preschool.

And finally: here’s why I love being a Daisy troop leader. I took this yesterday at the park where we met to work on our first service project…taking care of the flowerbeds in front of the park. The girls were so excited! We split them the twelve of them up into groups of three – this is my group showing their dirty hands after weeding.

I have to say, looking back on the pictures of this month…I love my life and all the people in it!

Souper Saturday {Black & White Chicken Chili}

2011-01-16T03:03:51Z

I have been on a soup kick for the last several weeks. It all started when Steve & I went to our supper club in November and the theme was soups. I took Nutter Butter pie because, well, someone needed to bring dessert, right? And, I really don’t have that many soups in my recipe arsenal. After that supper club, I decided two things: 1. I LOVE soup – a lot more than I thought I did and 2. I needed to learn to make more soups and soon. I’ve decided to make Friday soup night at our house to try out different types (Steve, are you reading? I guess I haven’t told you that Friday night is soup night, have I?).

This black & white chili was already in my recipe collection (well, sort of – it was in my collection, before I lost it). It’s one of my sister’s recipes. It is so easy to throw together and it tastes simply delicious. All the flavors just meld perfectly and it’s one of those magical recipes that tastes even better the second day. Yummy leftovers? No cooking on Saturday night? Score!

Here’s the recipe. Even though I couldn’t find my copy of my sister’s recipe, I remembered most of the ingredients. So, I looked on the internet and found a couple of recipes for this and kind of combined them. While this may not look exactly like my sister’s recipe, it turned out really, really yummy.

Ingredients:

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts – rinsed, patted dry, and cut into bit-size pieces

1 onion, chopped finely

1-2 two jalapeno peppers, chopped finely (or you can use several rings from a jar of jalapenos)

2 15 oz. cans of black beans, drained

2 15 oz. cans of great northern beans, undrained

1-2 tablespoons of chili powder

2 cups of chicken broth

1 1/2 teaspoons of cumin

Salt to taste

Directions:

Turn stove to medium-high heat

Spray the bottom of a 5-quart stock pan with cooking spray (or, if you’re out of cooking spray, like me, melt a tablespoon of butter in the bottom of the pan)

Add chicken and cook, over medium-high heat, for two minutes.

Add the onions and the jalapenos. Cook 5-7 more minutes.

Add the additional ingredients. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 20-30 minutes to allow the flavors to mix.

Serve with rice. Add sour cream and sliced green onion for garnish.

Enjoy!

Happy New Year! Happy New Year!

2011-01-02T04:10:18Z

May we all have a vision now and then of a world where every neighbor is a friend….

I’ve had that ABBA song stuck in my head since yesterday. I swear I’m not going to get off on a ABBA tangent today, but gosh their songs take me back!

We had a peaceful New Year’s Eve celebration here. I made prime rib for dinner (my first time making one myself and let me just say….yum, double yum!). We let the girls have a celebration around 9:00 p.m. to ring in the New Year in their own little kid way. I bought them a bottle of sparkling grape juice and we let them give toasts with plastic champagne glasses. They were so cute clinking their glasses repeatedly.

“To sisters!”

“To cousins!”

“To Sissy & Me!”

“To Sisters Everywhere!”

“To the Whole World!” Abigail keeps that whole world thing as her special trump. She uses it for prayers all the time (“Dear God, thank you for the WHOLE WORLD!”) and apparently for toasts, too.

And yes, in the picture above, that is confetti all over the floor. Yesterday afternoon, Steve stopped by our local hardware store to pick up some batteries. Abigail was with him. Whenever one of the girls goes with him, they come home with a prize from the hardware store. Over the years, the owners have given the girls popsicles, jump ropes, stickers. Yesterday, Abigail came home with several little confetti poppers. They were these really cool little pouches that you blow up somewhat like a balloon and then pop. When they popped, confetti flew out all over the place.

Steve & I talked about doing them outside but then decided that it would be okay to do them inside. We needed to sweep and vacuum today anyway and how much of a mess could they really make? Sometimes, I think Steve & I lack common sense individually, but when we make a decision together, we elevate our lack of common sense to complete idiocy. (Although, Steve by himself does have more than a healthy dose of common sense, so I’m thinking I’m more the culprit here than he is). The confetti was a huge mess. I think I’ll be finding pieces of it until June. But, it was so worth it to see the girls’ faces. They absolutely loved the confetti!

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Today was pretty low key, too. The weather was dismal and Steve had to work, so the girls and I just hung out and watched some shows on Netflix. We met some friends at church to watch some of the bowl games (okay, Steve watched the games…I talked to my friends and the girls ran around like insane children how have been cooped up inside for two days). Tonight, we had these black-eyed peas and tomato pie for dinner. I also made a caramel apple pork tenderloin that was the Publix Apron’s Simple Meal for this week. It was great – even Gracie proclaimed the meat “especially tender”.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to accomplish in 2011. My mind is spinning with all the goals I have, both professionally and personally. I want to run a 5K for the first time and walk a 1/2 marathon again. I want to get better organized. I want to remember this time with the girls. I’m going to do Project 365 again – I know that the chances of me successfully completing it are pretty slim, but on the years I’ve at least attempted to do it, I have at least a small journal of our days. I love going back and reading the pages from 2008 and 2009. I want to spend more time creating and less time reacting. For much of 2010, I felt like I was always behind. I feel like I didn’t sew or scrapbook or craft as much as I have in years past and I’ve missed it. I want to make those things a priority again this year, for me and the girls. They love crafting as much as me! I want to spend more quality time with Steve. I love him and he is my rock, but all relationships need nurturing, even the most secure of them. I want to do better setting aside time to read my Bible and devotionals. I know that my days go better when I start them in prayer, but that seems to always be the first thing that gets pushed to the side. There are so many things I want to do this year, but my biggest hope is that I find the kind of joy I see in this picture!

Times Square had nothing on our little living room last night!

I hope your 2011 is blessed with love, joy, and peace!

Wrapped In Love

2010-12-31T14:41:38Z

In the last three weeks, Steve went to the ER for a kidney stone, Abigail had strep, Abigail went to the ER for suspected pneumonia (it ended up being just an upper respiratory infection), Steve & I both had bronchitis, and Abigail got strep again.

It’s been a pretty bumpy ride. I was sicker than I have been in years and years (possibly ever). For almost a week, I could barely do anything. And, to top it off, it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I missed Gracie’s Daisy Troop pinning, Abigail’s preschool Christmas show (she was still sick, so she missed it, too), and both girls singing in the Christmas program at church. There was so much I wanted to get done that week and didn’t – little gifts for the girls’ classmates, extra special gifts for their teachers, cookies baked and delivered to friends and neighbors. We were supposed to leave for Memphis to see my sister and her family on December 17th, but I was still too sick, so we had to postpone our trip until after Christmas. I wanted to cry but I didn’t have the energy to do even do that.

I pretty much wanted to curl up in my bed and throw myself a pity party. But, that simply wasn’t possible. Because, everywhere I turned, I ran headlong into my blessings. It’s really difficult to feel sorry for yourself when you’re completely wrapped in love by family and friends.

That week out of commission made me realize exactly how lucky I am. People called and checked on me constantly. My sister called to check on me multiple times a day. My mom offered to come over and help take care of the girls. My friends and co-leaders handled the Daisy pinning ceremony and Steve went to take pictures for me. My friends picked Gracie up from school and took her to play dates (did you notice that she didn’t get sick? Her immune system needs to be cloned…she managed to escape everything that was going around at home and at school and at church in December!). Gracie’s children’s director at church took one look at me when I went to drop her off for the Christmas program and said, “Let me take Abigail, too – you go home and rest!” and I almost cried because I really didn’t know how I was going to handle taking care of Abigail for the hour before Steve got home (thanks, Ms. Rae – you and Margo saved me that night!). I got Get Well cards from Abigail and from Gracie and from our dog boarder. Yeah, you read that right. We’d taken our sheltie to be boarded for our trip but had to call them and ask if we could reschedule. Not only were they kind enough to work her in during their busiest week of the year, they made me a card.

I realized, again, how incredibly blessed I am by the man I married. Steve took care of the girls, getting them to school and dressed and fed. He managed homework and getting stuff together for Christmas parties. And, he took care of me in the kindest and most gentle way. He let me rest and understood when I told him there was no way I could travel in the car for eight hours. I love him, more than I can ever say in words.

I was finally feeling better by Christmas Eve, but still not completely myself. We went to church for Christmas Eve services. We got home and had dinner. I realized that we hadn’t even made cookies to put out for Santa. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. One of my friends was at the door with a box of homemade cookies. They were delicious and I’m sure that Santa enjoyed them, too. See what I mean? Blessings everywhere.

It was really one of the best Christmases that I can remember. It’s amazing what happens when you’re forced to slow down and feel the love that’s all around you.

I think I’m back to normal now – I still have a lingering cough, but it gets better each day. I’m ready for the new year to start….I have so many things I want to do and accomplish in 2011, but, at the top of my list is to truly appreciate my husband, my girls, my family, and my friends!

I’ll have a purple {and pink} Christmas…

2010-12-04T04:28:57Z

Oh, how the mighty have fallen!

Years and years ago, before I had children, I was a Christmas Tree purist. Which is to say that I swore that I would never, ever have any type of fake tree in my house. Fresh cut trees were it for me. And, if we got to cut it ourselves? Even better.

But, in 2006, Abigail was just a few weeks old when Christmas rolled around. I was still a little off kilter from her birth and my recovery and somehow, I let Steve con me into getting an artificial (read, fake!) tree. It’s actually a cute little tree, nice and compact and perfect for our house. And, I’ll admit that it is a lot less work than a cut tree. And since Steve is somehow the one who ends up taking care of things that need daily watering (like the plants, and the yard, and the dog), he was the one who always had to take care of the cut trees. And I love Steve, so anything that makes his life easier is certainly okay with me. But, I never would have called myself an “artificial tree” lover and I certainly never would have gone out and bought one myself.

Until this year….

Earlier this spring, we painted the girls’ room Pepto Bismal pink and Grape Nehi purple. They have an adorable dollhouse loft bed and a bunch of pink and purple accessories, including a bright pink couch.

So, when we walked into Wal-Mart early in November and saw a little purple Christmas tree, I just couldn’t help myself. I kept thinking about how cute it would look in their bedroom. And, so, two weeks later, it came home with us. And, it’s perfect in their room. They are over the moon about it.

And in four short years, I’ve gone from someone who would never have a fake Christmas tree to someone who bought not only a fake one, but a fake PURPLE one. What’s next?

One Magic Christmas

2010-12-03T03:44:17Z

Last Christmas was beyond difficult. My dad was placed on hospice the week before Christmas and he died on December 30th. To say it was an emotional few weeks doesn’t even begin to do it justice.

But, still, it was still December and the girls were five and three, so I couldn’t exactly bury my head in the sand and forget about Christmas. And, honestly, I didn’t want to. In the midst of all the sadness, I craved the joy of the true spirit of the season. I found comfort in the girls and their excitement.

Before my dad got so sick, I had made reservations in San Destin for Steve, the girls & I to spend the night at Baytowne Wharf. And, I scheduled something magical for the girls. The San Destin resort was sponsoring a Santa tuck-in (and, umm, yes, that is Abigail in the ad for this year ). Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to except, but I thought the girls might get a kick out of it.

By the time the day came for the trip, I wasn’t sure if we would be able to go or if I was even emotionally up for it. Thanks to my amazing sister who made a trip down here to help my parents and convinced me that it would be okay to leave, we were able to go and it was absolutely beyond my wildest dreams.

See, when I made the Santa tuck-in reservations, I thought it was just going to be one of Santa’s “helpers” playing the role of Santa. I didn’t realize it was going to be the REAL Santa. We kept the visit a secret from the girls and you can see Abigail’s surprise when the door opened and there was Santa. What you can’t see is the look of surprise on my face when the door opened and I saw this:

He came in the door and swept us all up with his rich laughter and won the girls’ hearts with presents just for them. He read them a story and answered a laundry list of questions (mostly for Gracie who was a bit skeptical about Santa last year…after this visit, all of her skepticism disappeared and has yet to return)

He even let Abigail touch his beard (repeatedly). She was completely fascinated by it!

Then, he tucked each of them in, promised them both that he’d be back on Christmas Eve, and headed back to the North Pole.

I guess somehow Santa was able to take a break from his very, very busy holiday season and share a little joy with two little girls who’d had a pretty rough few months and give a little Christmas magic to their mama.

Ritzy Rudolphs

2010-12-01T21:21:40Z

I had two things I wanted to accomplish yesterday. I wanted everyone in my immediate family seated around the television at 7:00 p.m. watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on CBS. And, I wanted to have the snacks ready to go for the first commercial. Sounds simple enough, right? Well, for some reason it took a Herculean effort on Steve’s part and my part to pull it off. Gracie finishes dance at 3:00 p.m. on Tuesdays and then we had to make a quick stop at the library and a quick run to Publix. It was raining; both girls were grumpy (let’s just say I left Abigail on the canned vegetable aisle wailing about a Lunchable). So, by the time the three of us got home it was after 4:00. Which gave me less than three hours to get dinner cooked, everyone fed, baths for the girls, homework and a book for Gracie, the kitchen cleaned, and these little reindeer made. Thanks to a wonderful husband and some kind of time warp that made the three hours feel longer than three hours, we made it in the nick of time. At 6:59, the girls and I were piled up in our bed and Steve was sitting at the desk chair with the TV on. The little reindeer snacks were on a platter in the kitchen. I was blissfully happy, even when the girls started kicking each other and fighting over who got to sit next to me. There’s something about the first holiday special of the season that just makes me smile. And, yes, I know that I can watch Rudolph 365 days a year thanks to DVDs and streaming video and Netflix and iTunes, but there’s a special kind of magic that happens when you watch it interrupted by 12 gazillion commercials all advertising amazing toys that your children have never heard of but suddenly “need” for Christmas.

These snacks were quite possibly the easiest I’ve ever made. Seriously, the hardest part was finding the maraschino cherries in Publix (although, that was made significantly more difficult by the 4-year-old in my cart still wailing about the Lunchable). I’m not sure where I saw these – I didn’t bookmark the site. Sorry! It was either Taste of Home or Pillsbury or Kraft.

Anyway, here’s the recipe. You still have at least a million more opportunities to watch Rudolph before Christmas!

Makes 8 Reindeer:

8 Ritz Crackers

Peanut butter

4 maraschino cherries, halved

16 raisins

Pretzel twists, broken in half (Okay, I could have put 8 pretzel twists here, but honestly, it took me about 27 pretzels to get 8 sets of antlers looking the way I wanted )

Spread the peanut butter on the cracker. You don’t want it too thin, but you don’t want it glumped on there either.

Then, put press the pretzels into the peanut butter for antlers; add the raisins for eyes, and for the finishing touch, add the cherry half for Rudolph’s shiny red nose.

Enjoy!

Turkey Lurkey

2010-12-01T15:11:51Z

When I was a little girl, my mother was always one of the “room mothers” for my class. She was always there for parties, bringing yummy homemade goodies for all the parties and at Christmas, the room mothers always got together and made a little craft for all the children in the class. One year, we got little Lifesaver Candy men made with yarn and Styrofoam balls. One year we got little felt hobby horses with candy canes. I loved them…it always made me feel so special to get something with my name and the year on it.

Things are a little different now. Room mothers, at least at our school, don’t really exist anymore. Last year, when Gracie was in kindergarten, she still had parties for all the holidays and the parents brought in different things. This year, at least so far, that hasn’t happened. First grade is much more serious business apparently! And, of course, you can’t bring homemade treats to school anymore. Everything has to be store bought. But, the idea of bringing in little treats for classmates is still alive and well. At Halloween, both girls brought home several little treats from their friends. I had several ideas to do for each of their classes, but Halloween kind of snuck up on me. So, I decided to do treats for their friends for Thanksgiving instead.

I ordered these cute little felt turkey lollipop covers from Oriental Trading. We put Tootsie Pops in them and then attached little labels that said “I am thankful you’re my friend. Love, Gracie (or Abigail)”. They turned out really, really cute and the girls were over the moon about taking a treat to class. I just love to do things like this with them! It’s one of my favorite parts of being a mommy these days!

I can see clearly now…or at least I can see better

2010-11-30T14:18:17Z

I was thinking back over the last ten or so Thanksgivings and more often than not, I’ve been sick with some type of ailment or another. It seems like I always get knocked down a peg or two at the end of November. This year was no exception, but instead of having the flu or a pulled back that required copious amounts of muscle relaxers for me to even think about getting out of bed like I’ve had in years past, this year it was my eye that was giving me grief.

I woke up Wednesday morning and every now and then, I’d get a shooting pain in my right eye. Lovely! I pulled my contacts out, figuring that I’d probably just worn that pair for too long. On Thursday, my eye was killing me. I diagnosed myself with dry eyes (after a long conversation with Dr. Google that made me bounce back and forth between thinking I had a Corneal Ulcer or some type of fungal infection). So, on Thanksgiving Day, I went to Wal-Mart to get eye drops (yes, I fought the idea of buying into the commercialization of the holiday, but my eyes were really hurting!)

Here’s a funny side story…the night before Thanksgiving, I was at my beloved Publix doing my Thanksgiving shopping (yes, I know, I procrastinate) and I talked to my favorite grocery bagger. He was so thankful that Publix was going to be closed on Thanksgiving Day. I agreed that I thought it was wonderful. He talked about the “good old days” when even the malls were closed every Sunday. He said that some days just used to be sacred and no one ever would have thought of being open on Thanksgiving. I told him that I wished we could go back, not necessarily to those times (I like my iPhone and the internet too much to want to head back to the ‘70s) but to a point when things actually did close once and while. Yep, we were pretty proud of ourselves and our belief that stores should be closed on Thanksgiving. So, guess who I saw at Wal-mart on Thanksgiving Day? Yep, you guessed it! He looked at me somewhat sheepishly and I looked at him somewhat sheepishly. Maybe his eyes were bothering him, too.

Once I got home and put the eye drops in my eyes, they did start to feel better, but by Saturday afternoon, they were still bothering me. So, I bit the bullet, loaded both girls into the van, and headed to the eye doctor. Where it took him .327 seconds to tell me that no, I don’t have a Corneal Ulcer or a fungal infection or a corneal abrasion or even pink eye. On the surface my eye looks just fine. He said that it was likely just eye strain from overuse and that I just need to rest my eyes and give them a little time and they should be fine.

Which was a relief because I was starting to get a little worried. And apparently, so was Gracie. When we were getting ready to go to the doctor, Abigail was dillydallying about getting dressed. Gracie grabbed Abigail’s shoes and said, “Abigail, you need to hurry! If we don’t get to the eye doctor, then Mommy is going to go blind!” Ahhh, at least she comes by her flair for exaggeration honestly!

So, I rested my eyes the rest of the weekend and I’m happy to say that my contacts are back in and the pain is gone.

I realized yesterday, though, that the eye strain incident is actually a metaphor for my life. I woke up at 2:00 a.m. with my mind spinning and my heart racing. I was, for lack of a better word, panicked. I have so much to do this week – and not my usual, oh I have to actually do laundry and gasp! cook dinner kind of stuff. Real stuff. Like work deadlines and picture deadlines and other work deadlines and big projects at church and on and on and on, just like all of you deal with, too. But, somehow at 2:00 a.m. yesterday morning, all those responsibilities seemed absolutely overwhelming. As I was adding it up in my head, I realized that I had about 150 hours of work to do this week (and honestly, that is not too much of an exaggeration). I thought about getting up at 2:00 and getting started on my week’s work, but instead I do what I always do when I have trouble falling asleep. I prayed for other people. I went through my prayer list in my head and soon enough I was back sound asleep. When I pray my own prayers when I can’t sleep, it doesn’t help – I get too caught up in what I’m worried about. When I pray for others, I find comfort and rest. So, instead of getting up and working harder, I rested. And gave myself time. Just like I did with my eyes and by the time the morning dawned, I was seeing everything clearer. Funny how that works, isn’t it?

Thankful

2010-11-28T19:09:16Z

I know that everyone and their brother’s sister is writing blog posts about being thankful this weekend. And I thought I would be unique and not write one, in the interest of creative individuality. But, I decided against that. I’m going to jump on the bandwagon that celebrates thankfulness with both feet and hold on for dear life. Because I am more thankful than I can ever express. I am so, so, so blessed. Sometimes, I’m afraid to even mention my blessings out loud because I’m afraid I’ll explode from sheer joy or that by acknowledging my incredible blessings somehow the universe will get wind of it and realize that I have too much and want some of it back. That is utter nonsense…my God does not work that way and I know it, but sometimes, old habits die hard!

So, I’m here to give thanks for the things that mean the most to me…

I am thankful for….

…you, for reading my ridiculous words and still coming back for more (if this is your first time reading, please come back again so this will apply to you )

…my fledgling little photography business, that still manages to grow, even when I neglect it sorely

..my “real” jobs that let me have the flexibility to do what I love from home during hours that work for me

…my church that gives back to me more than I could ever hope to give to it

…friends who love me in spite of myself

…thousands and thousands of pieces of paper scattered around the house, that all say some variation of “I love you Mommy!” or “Mommy is the best” written in the hand of my little first grader. I know that my years of being her hero are limited, so I’m trying to bask in the glory now.

….my makeup smeared all over the kitchen mirror and my preschooler’s face. When I asked her why she did it, she said she “wanted to be beautiful like Mommy!” I know those days are limited, too, trust me!

…the ten zillion questions I get each day about everything from Jesus to poop

...my family, near and far

…getting to spend last Thanksgiving with my daddy and that this Thanksgiving he is having a marvelous celebration that I can’t even begin to fathom. (and that I have so many of his recipes to make for my family and one day pass down to my girls)

…my faith that lets me know in my heart that I will see my father again

…my sister, who always, always, has an open heart and a welcome shoulder for me

..my girls…the blessings who make me who I am…

…Steve, who ten years ago, made my life complete when he walked into it. I love you more today than I ever could have imagined a decade ago. I’m so lucky to get to walk this life with you!

So, yes, I have more than I deserve to be thankful for this year!

The picture at the top is Gracie’s “Hand Tree of Thankfulness”. The leaves are all the things she’s grateful for this year. It melts my heart to read them. And Abigail’s, too!

I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Pumpkin Scones {Pumpkin-palooza}

2010-11-28T17:24:49Z

Recipes are like treasures to me, particularly ones that I get from people that I love. I never had the honor of meeting Steve’s mother, but I do have a couple of her recipes, and every time I make one of them, it feels like she’s right there in the kitchen with me. And, as you know, I have tons and tons of my daddy’s recipes and cookbooks and I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. Making some of his signature dishes for Thanksgiving was bittersweet but mostly I was glad to have that connection to him.

This recipe for Pumpkin Scones comes from one of my dear friends, Laura. She made these for our first Mom’s Bible Study meeting last year. They were absolutely delicious! Laura is one of those special people that puts love into everything she does and I am blessed to be her friend. One of the difficult things about living in a military town is the high probability that your friends are going to move away – it’s just the nature of the business. And, that’s what happened with Laura’s family. They moved this past summer. There are many things I miss about Laura – her wisdom, her kind and gentle spirit, and her violin-playing at church on Sunday mornings. And her pumpkin scones!

Laura posted this recipe a few months ago on Facebook. I was so excited to be able to try my hand at them. As usual, I procrastinated greatly! But, this morning, I finally got my act together and whipped up a batch of them. And just like I always do when I make a recipe that belongs to one of my friends, I smiled and thought how lucky I am to have such amazing friends, both near and far.

And the scones? They were so yummy, warm out of the oven. My kitchen smelled amazing!

Here’s the recipe:

Pumpkin Scones

Daphne’s Notes: Makes 6 scones – a perfect amount to keep one for yourself and share the rest with friends. I didn’t use the white chocolate or the pecans because I am a pumpkin purist…okay, not really, but I didn’t have any white chocolate and I was running out of time to toast the pecans. They were still yummy without them, but trust me, the white chocolate and pecans send them over the top!

2 cups all purpose flour

1/3 cup light or dark brown sugar

1/2 teaspoons ground ginger

1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup cold salted butter, cut into pieces

1/3 cup chopped white chocolate (or more okay too yumm!!)

1/4 cup toasted and chopped pecans (optional)

1/3 cup buttermilk

1/2 cup fresh or canned pure pumpkin (if using canned pumpkin make sure there are no spices or sugar added)

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Egg Wash:

1 large egg

1 tablespoon milk or cream

Turbinado or powdered sugar (or sugar crystals) for sprinkling the tops of the scones (optional)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees and place rack in middle of oven. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (I used a silicone baking mat). In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, spices, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Cut the butter into small pieces and blend into the flour mixture with a pastry blender or two knives. The mixture should look like coarse crumbs. Stir in the chopped white chocolate and pecans, if using. In a separate bowl mix together the buttermilk, pumpkin puree and vanilla and then add the buttermilk mixture to the flour mixture. Mix just until the dough comes together. Do not over-mix the dough.

Transfer to a lightly floured surface and knead dough gently four or five times and then pat the dough into a circle that is about 7 inches round and about 11/2 inches thick. Cut this circle in half, then cut each half into 3 pie-shaped wedges (triangles). Place the scones on the baking sheet. Brush the tops of the scones with the egg wash and sprinkle a little Turbinado sugar on top, if desired.

Place the baking sheet inside another baking sheet to prevent the bottoms of the scones from over browning. Bake for about 20 minutes or until golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake {Pumpkin-palooza}

2010-11-26T12:48:41Z

Forgive me if I’m not quite ready to move on to Christmas. I’d like to savor Thanksgiving a little bit longer. I’ll be ready to start anticipating Christmas on Sunday, the official start of the Advent season. But, for the next few days, I’m going to keep my Thanksgiving placemats on my harvest green tablecloth. I’m going to keep the gel cling turkey that’s missing more than a few body parts (thanks to some little 4-year-old hands) stuck to my kitchen window. And, I’m going to make a few more pumpkin-related recipes before I move on to more traditional Christmas things.

I love, love, love Pumpkin Pie. I could eat it any month of the year, with or in place of any meal! But, we don’t have Pumpkin Pie on Thanksgiving any more. And that’s fine with me, really. Because we have Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake in its place. This is a Paula Deen recipe that I discovered the year that Abigail was born. I was sitting in our glider rocker at 4:00 a.m. nursing my newborn and there was Paula throwing together cream cheese, pumpkin, butter (lots of butter), and a yellow cake mix. It looked delicious and to my sleep-deprived brain, easy to make. So, I tried it that year. We had it for Thanksgiving and Christmas and every Thanksgiving and Christmas since. My sister has made it with different fruit variations (cherry and lemon, I think). It is always a hit and whenever I take it somewhere new, someone asks for the recipe. So, here it is:

Paula Deen’s Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake

Cake:

1 package yellow cake mix (I use Duncan Hines Classic Yellow)

1 egg

1/2 cup of butter, melted

Filling:

1 8 oz. package of cream cheese, softened

1 (15 oz. can of pumpkin)

3 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 cup butter, melted

16 oz. of powdered sugar (I could only find 32 oz. size bags so I just lay it flat on a cutting board and cut through the middle with my kitchen shears; maybe not exactly precise but a whole lot easier than trying to measure out powdered sugar)

1 teaspoon of cinnamon

1 teaspoon of nutmeg

Mix together the cake mix, egg, and butter with an electric mixture. Press the mixture into the bottom of a greased 9X13 pan.

Next, beat the cream cheese and pumpkin with an electric mixer until they’re smooth. Add the eggs, vanilla, and butter. Beat all that together. Add the powdered sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg and mix well. Spread the pumpkin mixture over the cake batter. Bake for 40-50 minutes in a 350 degree oven.

Okay, here’s the iffy part. You don’t want to over-bake it because, you want it to still be gooey. But, you do want it to have some shape to it, so don’t under-bake it either. I usually bake mine until, when I pull the pan out of the oven, the top has a little bit of wiggle to it but not a lot. And, if you’re not a fan of nutmeg, you can half the amount you use. I did that yesterday (completely by accident, because I love nutmeg…if I could have a romance with a spice, it would surely be nutmeg) and it was still delicious!

Enjoy!

Chewy Chess Pie

2010-11-21T03:31:00Z

***edited to add the number of eggs***

This was one of my dad’s staples for Thanksgiving Dinner. It’s a nice switch from pumpkin pie. I’ve never been a fan of pecan pie (I’m one of those nuts that thinks nuts should be saved for savory dishes like pecan-crusted fish or walnut stuffing and shouldn’t be wasted on sweets), so this one fits the bill perfectly.

I can remember making this pie one year for my friend Vivian for her birthday and everyone had one tiny piece since it’s ridiculously sweet. It’s not only ridiculously sweet, it’s ridiculously addictive, so by the end of the day, the entire pie was gone, one tiny little piece at a time. So, be forewarned…

I’ve modified the recipe slightly over the years, mostly to get the filling to be a little thicker. The thing that makes this pie amazing, though, is that sweet little crunchy crust that forms on the top as it bakes….mmmmm…heaven on a plate…

Chewy Chess Pie

1 cup of brown sugar

1/2 cup of granulated sugar

1 tablespoon of flour

1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

2 tablespoons of heavy whipping cream

2 eggs

1/2 cup of melted butter

1 uncooked pie shell (your own, or the great little company called Pillsbury has a yummy one)

Mix together brown sugar, sugar, flour, vanilla, eggs, and whipping cream. Stir in melted butter.

Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes or until sugary crust forms on the top of the pie.

Enjoy!

Happy Go Lucky

2010-11-19T18:13:49Z

Gracie had Lunch With A Loved One at school on Wednesday. Last year, I didn’t get to go with her because I was taking preschool pictures. She was disappointed but got over it when we told her that her Aunt Becky was going to drive over from Mobile and go with her. This year, she again wanted me to be the one to eat lunch with her, so I made sure months ago that my schedule was going to be clear at noon on Wednesday. I had a wonderful time with her. She wanted to dress up, so I did, too. I brought McDonald’s as a treat for the both of us. I was thankful to be able to spend some time with her. All the kids were excited to have a grown-up eating lunch in the cafeteria with them. And, I’m sure that they were all a little more active than they usually are.

Gracie, though, at least through my mommy glasses, seemed a lot more hyper than the other children. She was constantly in and out of her seat, giving me hugs, chattering on about anything and everything. Were this a one-time occurrence, I would probably just chalk it up to a social 6-year-old that is very attached to her mommy being excited that she was getting to spend some extra, special time with me.

But, it’s not a one-time occurrence. Gracie’s really struggling this year with her behavior at school. She’s losing marks on an almost daily basis for not following directions, or not finishing her work, or talking out of turn. Last week, she was doing fantastic and made it to Wednesday with no marks. But, on Wednesday, when I picked her up from school, I could tell by her face that it hadn’t gone well. She’d lost four marks, all for talking, all in one day. So, her behavior grade for the week plummeted to a B-. I go back and forth, thinking that this is just something that we need to work on with her and that she’s fully capable of regulating her behavior, then thinking maybe she’s just coming into her own socially and will grow out of it, then thinking maybe the pediatrician was right all those years ago when he said we needed to keep an eye on her for ADD. (But, then again, this is the same doctor who said last week that Abigail was ready to ride in a booster, so what does he know?)

When I walked Gracie into school this morning, her teacher met me at the door, mostly just to apologize for not having time to talk to me at Lunch With A Loved One. But, of course, I had to open the proverbial can of worms and ask how Gracie was doing in class. She gave me that look that said, “Well……..” and my heart sunk a little. She said she’s not focusing in class the way she should. She’s doing well (her reading level has jumped nine month levels in the last ten weeks) with her class work, but her teacher thinks she could do better. She said that Gracie is very social and just so “happy go lucky”. I almost choked on that. Gracie is not generally what I’d call a happy go lucky kid – she’s constantly questioning herself about a lot of things from her schoolwork to if her friends really like her to who she should vote for in the next election. (Seriously, she says right now that she doesn’t think she’ll vote for Mr. Obama again) I see her as my drama queen and the one we’ve always had to worry about wearing her heart on her sleeve. So, to hear her described that way, even though it was in a context of her not-so-stellar behavior, actually made me a little happy. I know that whatever we need to do for her, we will. My greatest hope is that we end up on the other side with a little girl who behaves better, but is still happy and maybe even a little go lucky!

Changing Times

2010-11-18T18:41:49Z

So, Abigail is riding in a booster seat now. Really, I guess it’s not that big of a deal, but for some reason, it has sent me into an emotional tailspin. My baby, my little bitty teeny tiny baby, the one who didn’t hit 20 pounds until she was 18 months old, is out of her 5-point harness. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with the whole notion. I kept Gracie 5-pointed (at least in my car) until she started kindergarten. But, Abigail begs to ride in one of the spare boosters EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. WE. GET. IN. THE. CAR. And, people, I am tired. She has completely worn me down. I have been outmanned, outwitted, and out-pleaded by a 4-year-old. Truthfully, I would have still been putting up the good fight except for one thing: her pediatrician.

Now, I am fairly certain that Abigail does not know the phone number to her pediatrician’s office. And, again, I’m fairly certain that if she did know the number, she wouldn’t be able to call it and actually get talk to her pediatrician. I mean, I can’t call him up and talk to him any time I want, so why should Abigail be able to do that? But, if I wasn’t fairly certain of those things, I would be sure that she had called him up and pleaded her case about the booster seat. Because, at her 4-year Well Baby visit(my sister informed me that I should probably start calling them her Well Child visits ) , the pediatrician mentioned something about her being in a booster said. And I said, full of my usual sanctimony, “Oh, no! She’s still 5-pointed!” I was sure he would reward me with a nod and a comment about how he wished other parents kept their children sufficiently restrained until they reach puberty. He didn’t nod and there was no approving comment. He looked at me like I’d grown another head. “You know, she’s certainly old enough and tall enough and heavy enough to ride in a booster seat.” Ummm…well..no. And I probably would have just ignored him. Except that there was another person in the room, listening to the conversation. And that person was Abigail. And my goose was cooked. Because, now she had “The doctor said I could ride in a booster!” to her arsenal of tricks to wear me down.

So, she won. She now is the proud owner of her very own pink, high-backed booster seat. And she couldn’t be prouder or herself. She has enjoyed that seat and I will admit, it’s been somewhat easier than fighting with her every time we get in the car.

And the bonus? The box it came in was perfect for a homemade robot costume! Because, even if she’s big enough for a big girl seat, she’s certainly not too big to put a cardboard box over her head and wander around our house for hours and hours, bumping into walls and doors until I finally cut a hole for her face in the box. She asked me to cut the arms out so she could open the fridge and get out snacks while she was wearing it. She even asked if she could sleep in it. I talked her out of that, but promised her robot pictures!

My Little Pumpkin Carver

2010-10-31T18:01:56Z

Last weekend, the girls and I headed up to Memphis to see my sister’s family and for me to take pictures of a wonderful family (sneak peek here). We got back in town on Monday afternoon just in time for a photo session I had scheduled downtown. Steve took the girls home and one the way back from my photo session, I remembered that Gracie needed to take a pumpkin to school to carve. Yes, first graders carving their own pumpkins…pretty cool, huh? So, I stopped by Publix, hoping to find a medium-sized pumpkin for her to lug into class. Unfortunately all they had were pie-sized ones and mammoth pumpkins that looked like they’d been grown with steroids. Guess which I picked? The next morning Steve walked Gracie into school. He carried the pumpkin that I think weighed close to what Abigail does. I didn’t really think any more about it until I pulled up in car line the next afternoon. There was Gracie, holding her mammoth pumpkin. She was seriously about to buckle from the weight of it, but somehow managed to get into the van without dropping it. She was so proud of her handiwork. And rightfully so, I think!

She and Steve cleaned out they eyes and mouth a little bit more so the candlelight would shine through and here creation earned a spot on our front porch for the Halloween weekend.

Behold…the scariest costume I’ve ever made :)

2010-10-31T17:24:39Z

And I mean scary on a whole lot of levels! When Gracie started talking about wanting to be a Vampire Princess for Halloween this year, I was a bit skeptical. She’s never been anything scary before. But, this year, Gracie is really into the scary part of Halloween, so I caved and let her pick out the fabric and pattern for this creation.

As usual, I procrastinated making costumes. I finished Abigail’s a couple of hours before Trunk or Treat on Wednesday. Gracie’s was cut out, but I hadn’t sewn the first seam. I promised Gracie that I would have her costume finished in time for downtown trick or treating on Friday night. That turned out to be a difficult promise to keep.

On Thursday, Abigail & I spent several hours at the doctor trying to figure out what’s causing her repeated high fevers and sore throats (since she keeps ending up with negative strep tests). The latest guess is some kind of periodic fever with swollen lymph nodes syndrome. So, Thursday was not the most productive sewing day.

Friday morning, Abigail was still feeling pretty puny, so she spent the day on the bed watching TV and I sewed and sewed and sewed. And I can honestly say this was the most difficult thing I have ever sewn. The instructions were really difficult to follow and the satiny fabric was a bear to work with. Somehow, I finished it in time for Friday night, but, I can honestly say, the sewing is horrible. The zipper is completely uneven; the hem is atrocious; and I don’t think any part of it looks like its supposed to look. But, Gracie is happy with it and that’s the only important thing. Although, I think next week, I’m going to pull out an easy sewing project and get my groove back - ‘cause right now, I feel sorely lacking in my sewing skills

Here we are downtown (I really missed Abigail…we went trick or treating and then to the ballet and I know she would have loved it; luckily, Steve was able to get home in time to stay with her)

Her favorite part of the costume was being able to twirl (my favorite part was the sleeves)

A vampire’s favorite candy . Remember that Reese’s commercial from a few years ago?

demonstrating how vampires drink…fruit punch.

The Exercise of Sewing

2010-10-29T01:01:51Z

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I realized something Tuesday night when I was looking at two stacks of fabric and two uncut patterns. I.do.not.like.to.sew! I don’t like when the *!*#*! pins stick into my too-sensitive fingers. I really don’t like the goofy tissue paper patterns that tear just by looking at them (or when Abigail gets them and cuts them up…ahem…). I don’t like when my machine decides to mess up on the tension. I don’t like winding bobbins and I certainly don’t like pressing seams. I’d almost rather go to the dentist than iron so the idea of pressing seam after seam after seam on a sewing project does absolutely nothing for me. Honestly, there is very little I like about the actual sewing process.

(Note: I love buying fabric and patterns, as my stacks and stacks of fabric and patterns will attest, so I obviously have no trouble with THAT part of sewing)

On Wednesday afternoon, while I was putting the final touches on Abigail’s perfectly orange butterfly Halloween costume, I had an epiphany. Sewing is a lot like exercise for me. I don’t enjoy it while I’m doing it and I certainly don’t enjoy going to bed late or getting up early to do it, but I absolutely love the results afterwards. And, while a good long walk, even if I do it begrudgingly, is good for my body and my mind, sewing something for my girls (or on the rare occasion, me) is good for my spirit. Because there are few things that give me as much satisfaction as having my daughter run into the house and spy the costume I made for her and shriek, “Mama! It’s the most beautiful thing ever! I love you!” Seeing her spin and twirl in the one-of-a-kind costume made with the fabric she herself picked out (can you believe I tried to talk her out of that fabric? She was adamant that it would be beautiful. Next time, I’ll know not to argue with her!) makes me smile deep down in my soul. And that’s what sends me back to my sewing machine time and time again.

Pumpkin Cookies

2010-10-28T14:21:43Z

These are my all time favorite cookies. My mom found this recipe in the paper when I was about seven. I have had them every October since (and, yes, for those of you math whizzes out there…that would be 34 years). It just doesn’t seem like Halloween until I see these little guys’ smiling faces. When I was in college, my mom mailed a box of these to me. They were an instant it during mid-terms! Once I graduated and set up my own home, I started making them myself. I delivered them to friends and co-workers and they always get rave reviews. (I even got one marriage proposal off of them – no, it wasn’t Steve…shhhh!!! don’t tell …obviously I said no!) There are several great things about these cookies. If you roll your dough out a little thicker, they make almost cake like cookies…a little crunchy on the top and crumbly in the middle. If you roll it out thinner, they’re just a delicious but the texture is really different. My mom always makes them thinner and smaller. I use a fairly large cutter for mine and make them thick (so once cookie is more than enough for a treat!).

I use this dough throughout the year for everything from Christmas cookies to St. Patrick’s Day cookies. Chances are if you’ve ever received a cookie from me, it’s from this recipe!

This is the perfect recipe to make with children. Every child I’ve every made them with and enjoyed it. It’s messy and the cookies don’t always end up pretty, but the fun is definitely worth it!

About the frosting….don’t tell or I’ll be banished from cooking societies everywhere (like I belong to any). It’s canned. Pillsbury Creamy Supreme Classic White to be exact. Now, I have used different homemade frostings and I love them with these cookies, but for Halloween I always use the canned variety because it’s a whole lot easier. I know, I know, there are cooking experts out there who say that making frosting is as easy as buying it. I’m sorry…I just don’t belong in that camp…you can not convince me that pulling out your mixer and spreading powdered sugar all over the place is easier than popping a top and pulling back an aluminum foil seal.

Here’s the recipe:

Preheat oven to 375⁰F.

1 cup butter

1 ½ cups sugar

3 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

3 ½ cups flour

2 teaspoons cream of tartar

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

2 cans of white frosting

1 bag of candy corn

1 bag of M&Ms

Tint 1 and 1/2 cans of the frosting orange (use gel coloring or you’ll get Tequila Sunrise orange like I’ve mentioned before).

Tint the last 1/2 can of frosting green

In mixer bowl, cream together butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each. Stir in vanilla. Stir together dry ingredients. Gradually add to creamed mixture. Chill dough thoroughly, 3 to 4 hours. Shape or cut into pumpkins. Bake 6-8 minutes.

Frost pumpkin bodies orange and the stems green. Decorate Jack O’ Lantern faces with M&M’s, and candy corn.

Enjoy!

Where’s My Mummy?

2010-10-20T15:19:21Z

Last year Abigail developed a deep and abiding love of mummies. It all started with this book:

It really is a cute little book. Digression Alert: It has the word tromped in it which I just love Some words just trip off my tongue and that’s one of them. End digression! She loves to read this over and over and over again and has it completely memorized. (In the for what it’s worth department for all of you with AR readers, it’s an AR book, so in our house it killed two birds with one stone).

In keeping with the mummy love around here, last October we started making Mummy Dogs. I saw these in a Pillsbury Halloween magazine and knew they’d be a hit with my little goblins. The recipe called for Puff Pastry, but I used Crescent Rolls the first time we had them and they were so good, I’ve never tried the Puff Pastry! Just cut the crescent rolls into strips, wrap them around a hot dog mummy-style, leaving room for a “face” and bake according to the crescent roll instructions. Dot mustard on for the eyes after they come out of the oven (unless you’re Abigail, then use ketchup for the eyes, but that’s a little too ghoulish, even for me! ) And there you have it: A Mummy Dog fit for a Mummy Lover!

Now, let me tell you about the Little Mummy doll. Earlier this fall (okay, that’s a joke…we have no fall here…earlier this summer), I saw this awesome 5-foot tall dancing mummy doll at Michael’s. Abigail absolutely loved it. I flirted with the idea of getting it for her, but at $79.99, even with a 40% off coupon, I just couldn’t justify it. Even if Abigail was amazingly adorable when she asked me to get it. A few weeks later we were in CVS picking up paper clips (long story) and I spied this much smaller version of the same dancing mummy. $14.99 on sale for $9.99. Score!!!! It came home with us and the fact that it’s small enough for her to tote around has been a plus. It plays Thriller and dances just like Michael Jackson did in the video.

The real bonus: watching my 4-year-old mimic the dancing moves. Michael Jackson she is not. I don’t think mummies are typically used as a comedic prop, but in this case…well, I haven’t laughed that hard in ages!

The Power of Giving

2010-10-20T15:13:26Z

First: thank you from the bottom of my heart for the phone calls and the emails and the comments about my last post. I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness and love. I am blessed to have all of you in my life!

Now, for the news of the day. Abigail did not shed a single tear before school this morning or during drop-off. It did not require age-appropriate playdates or additional quality time with me. And it certainly did not require visits to therapists or doses of anti-depressants.

Once my head finally cleared yesterday, I sat down and really thought about my little girl. And I realized something about her. She loves, absolutely loves, to do things for other people. So, I had a eureka moment. I called her into the room and asked her if she wanted to make some cookies for all the teachers at her preschool and take them to school today. She was thrilled! Yesterday, we made up the dough. Last night we cut them out and baked them. This morning we decorated them and packaged them up in cute little Halloween bags. Abigail put them all in a bucket and delivered them to everyone at school. The smile on her face was radiant. She was so excited to go to school; she couldn’t wait to get there. And me? Well, I am relieved that she’s once again my happy little schoolgirl. I was once again reminded that when you’re feeling sad, the best thing you can do to pull yourself out of it is to do something nice for someone else. If we have to make cookies and treats for someone every day for the rest of the year to make her school days easier, well, it seems a small price to pay for such a huge reward.

I hope you all have a wonderful day!

Crushed

2010-10-19T15:01:13Z

Indulge me for a moment while I travel back to the 1970s.

Do you remember the TV show The Jeffersons? George was constantly teasing the single maid, Florence, about her lack of cleaning and cooking skills. Florence always came back with some brillant quip. It was comedic timing at its best. There was one episode, though, when George teased Florence about not being able to find a husband. And Florence started to cry. George was dumbfounded and asked why she would cry when he teased her all the time. She told him that it didn’t bother her when he teased her about cooking and cleaning; she was confident in those abilities. However, the teasing about finding a mate cut just a little too close, because it just might be the truth.

Okay, back to the 21st century.

I tell you this because I think we all have an Achilles Heel of emotions about something. I have two. One is my photography skills; my skin is about as thin as rice paper on that topic. (And right now, that rice paper has some serious tears in it, but that’s not what this is about, because in the grand scheme of things, my photography skills matter less than what color socks I wore last month.)

The second thing I struggle constantly with is thinking that I am a failure as a mother. On good days, I’m able to see the forest through the trees and realize that even though each day I fail at something with the girls, overall they are happy and well-adjusted. But on bad days, really bad days, I want to collapse into a puddle of tears on the floor. And yesterday was a really, really, really bad day.

Abigail has been struggling with preschool. She goes to school an hour after Gracie does. Yesterday, after we dropped Gracie at school, Abigail started crying, pleading with me not to take her, begging to stay home with me. I packed her lunch; she unpacked her lunch. I put her shoes on; she took them off. She locked the front door with tears streaming down her face. I had a photo session yesterday morning or I probably would have let her just stay home. Now, let me tell you about Abigail. This is her third year at preschool. She was cried twice in three years about going to school. For the last three weeks, she’s cried every day that she has school.

I’m at my wit’s end. I don’t know what to do. So, I asked for advice. And the advice I got was pointed and sharp. “Abigail’s personality has changed. You might need to take her to the doctor. She might be depressed. She’s probably craving more quality time with you. You need to be arranging more playdates for her with children her own age. She’s jealous of the attention that other children are getting in the classroom” That’s what was said. (And yes, this whole paragraph is in passive voice…I know that…I know I’ve left out who I asked for advice and who said what. I don’t think the who is important; although, I will tell you the person who said all of it is neither Abigail’s teacher nor the director of the preschool but it was someone whose opinion I respect.) What I heard was “You suck as a mother and the only reason Abigail is upset is because you do everything wrong.” Rationally, I know that’s not what was said; rationally, I know (or at least hope) that this person wasn’t intentionally trying to make me feel bad. Rationally, I know all that. Emotionally, however, I am crushed.

I spent a solid two hours crying yesterday and tears have threatened on more than one occasion this morning.

Right now, I want to scoop my sweet baby girl (and my big girl, too, for good measure) up in my arms and run far, far, away to a place where I know no one and they know no one and keep the girls close to me and heal my bruised spirit. My reaction to hurt has always been to want to hide and escape. I want to hold Abigail and tell her that I love her more than I can even express. I want to watch her every move and make sure that she’s not exhibiting any symptoms of depression (which, if I’m honest, think is complete hogwash…my child is not depressed). More than anything though, I want to not fail her. And today, that’s what I feel like I’ve done. I’ve failed her on an epic level. I’m scared that what I thought yesterday was just an issue with her going to school is something more systemic, that the person who so casually tossed out reasons for her sadness is right. And that it’s all my fault.

But, let’s be honest…I can’t exactly run away. My life is here; the girls’ life is here. And my husband, who I adore, is here. (Why he doesn’t factor into my scooping up and running away scenario, I don’t know. Except he wouldn’t exactly be easy to scoop up and run with ). And, much as I’d like to, I can’t isolate myself from the outside world either. I know that’s not good for anyone. I know what I have to do is pick myself up and figure out on my own what’s happening inside Abigail’s head. I’ll try harder to be the mother (and the person) I want to be. A person whose skin isn’t quite so thin. A mother whose confident enough in her abilities to not care what other people think. And, I don’t think I’ll be asking for any advice any time soon. Because, advice, sometimes, can be a bitter storm raining down on your soul.

Candy Corn Parfaits {from BakedBree}

2010-10-17T16:27:22Z

I’m always looking for fun little desserts for the girls to help with in the kitchen. I saw these at BakedBree and thought they would be great to try with Gracie & Abigail. And, I was right. Both girls really enjoyed making them (and eating them). I think they turned out really cute, but both Steve & I agreed they’d probably be better with brownie bites rather than the Cocoa Puffs. Something about the flavor of the cereal was a little overpowering. The pudding did something to the candy corn that made them extra chewy and extra delicious. I definitely think I’ll keep this on my list of treats to make again next year (with brownie bites). Here’s the recipe the way we made it:

Candy Corn Parfaits

1 box of instant Chocolate Fudge pudding

1 box of instant French Vanilla pudding (get French Vanilla if you can find it because the color is a lot better for this recipe)

Cocoa Puffs (about two cups)

Cool Whip

Candy Corn

Orange gel color (from the cake decorating aisle)

Orange Sprinkles

Mix up the puddings according to package directions. Stick the chocolate pudding in the fridge to set for a few minutes. Split the vanilla pudding into two bowls. Mix the orange food coloring into one of the bowls until you get the color orange you’re going for. (Just a note here: if you use regular food coloring and not the cake-decorating gel, I don’t think you can ever achieve bright pumpkin orange…the best you can hope for is kind of a pinkish orange…think Tequila Sunrise orange instead of pumpkin orange. So, if you’re using regular food coloring, don’t keep adding in more and more coloring hoping to get true orange, because I don’t think it will ever happen. Trust me, I know this from experience! ) Then, stick the yellow (French Vanilla) and the orange puddings in the fridge for a couple of minutes so they’ll set, too.

Then, just layer the ingredients into your dessert cup (these square ones came from Target and I really like because they meet the trifecta of cool dishes in my house: 1. they’re plastic – I have two kids…need I say more 2. they’re dishwasher safe and 3. they’re cute.) We layered ours this way…Cocoa puffs, Yellow pudding, cool whip, cocoa puffs & candy corn, chocolate pudding, candy corn, orange pudding, cocoa puffs & candy corn, and finally finished it off with more whipped cream, some sprinkles and a couple of candy corns for decorating.

The girls’ cups ended up looking slightly different from mine. Gracie didn’t want candy corn or cool whip in hers; Abigail wanted more orange and less yellow (and as much cool whip as would fit). They really did enjoy making these!

Friday Night Lights

2010-10-17T01:44:23Z

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So, I have a confession to make. I’ve never really been one of those people who lives for the weekend. Truthfully, for most of my employed life, I enjoyed my work. And, once we had kids, the weekends tend to be even more hectic than the week days. I do enjoy a day off just relaxing but that doesn’t happen too often. And, even in my younger, wilder days, I wasn’t one to always go out on Friday nights. So, I don’t ever remember really thinking, “Oh, I can wait for Friday afternoon!” At least not until recently.

Our weeks seems to get busier and busier. On Mondays, the girls & I have Girl Scouts. On Tuesdays, Gracie has dance. Wednesday night we all have church. On Thursdays, Abigail has ballet. Throw into that mix homework, cooking dinner, reading time, and a photo session for me here and there, and our weekday afternoons look like chaos on top of chaos. But Friday afternoons are different. We’ve started heading to the park right after school lets out and we stay. And stay. And stay. Until the late afternoon (or early evening) sun starts to set and dusk starts to wrap its arms around us. It is one of my very favorite times of the week. We’re all getting fresh air. The girls visit friend after friend; I get to see many of my friends. We bring snacks, enough for us and to share. And I start to feel the stresses of the week fall away. As the day and the week wind down, I begin to forgive myself for all my failures of the past five days and just enjoy being a mommy, enjoy being with my girls, and bask in the love I feel all around me. And that certainly makes Friday afternoons something to look forward to. (That, and the fact that the late afternoon light at the park is magical for pictures!)

A little dead bug magic

2010-10-09T20:48:58Z

Abigail’s been having a rough couple of weeks at school. I can’t really quite put my finger on what’s been happening, but she cries and cries and cries when I leave her. Last Wednesday, she was so despondent that I caved and brought her back home with me. She’s never, ever been upset when I leave her at school. Ever. This is the child who asks to go to school in the summer. The child who asks to go to school on weekends. She’s not really clear about what’s upsetting her. I suspect that part of it is that her two best friends from last year aren’t in her class anymore (one moved three states away and one switched preschools). And, possibly, part of it is that there are a lot of younger kids in her class. She’s always been the oldest kid in her class, but the gap seems larger this year. Some of the kids are still working on potty training and learning to sit still during story time and Abigail’s wanting to write her name and learn to read. But, I know she loves her teachers and her classmates, so I’m not sure why the tears have started now. Maybe she’s just tired!

I do know that the solution, at least on Friday, was a bit unorthodox. She started talking about not wanting to go to school and saying that she just wanted to stay home. Then, somehow, she got on the subject of catching dragonflies. I told her to try and catch one in the front yard. After a couple of minutes, she came in, dejected. “I can’t find any, Mommy!” Then, I remembered that the night before I’d found a dragonfly in the kitchen and I had taken it outside and put it on the table. So, I took her in the backyard and showed it to her. She was ecstatic and asked if we could put it in a bowl to take to school and show her teachers and her friends. I was game for anything that would make her glad to go to school. So, we drove to school with the dead dragonfly riding in the car seat beside Abigail. And, she went into school, smiling and excited. She showed the dragonfly to everyone. in. the. entire. school. And, when I checked her into her classroom, she ran to show her friends and only gave me a passing wave when I left. I guess I need to start working on my bug collecting skills so I’ll have another specimen before school on Monday!

Pumpkin Crescent Rolls

2010-10-09T20:32:06Z

There’s only one word for these little guys. Yum. And addicting. And delicious. And lip-smacking. Okay, maybe there’s one word for them !

My sister found this recipe last year and she made some and brought them with her when she visited early last November and they were a universal hit. So, we made a batch of them up at Thanksgiving.

Here’s the recipe:

Pumpkin Crescent Rolls
8 oz cream cheese, softened
15 oz can pumpkin
1 can sweetened condensed milk
2 Tablespoons of flour
2 Tablespoons of cinnamon
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
8 packages refrigerated crescent rolls (Yes, 8!!!)
½ cup sugar

Preheat oven to 375. In mixer bowl, blend cream cheese, pumpkin, sweetened condensed milk, flour and spices until combined and smooth. Unroll crescent rolls, separate and lay flat. Evenly spread 1 ½ tablespoons of pumpkin mix over dough. Roll into crescent shape and sprinkle top with sugar. Bake 11-13 minutes until golden brown.

Now, here’s my confession….after about 4 packages of crescent rolls, I’m done with the whole rolling them up thing. So, I usually just give up and use the whole package and press the seams together, put the filling on one side, roll the sheet up, and cut them like pinwheels. Less work, just as much flavor – and I think that they actually look cuter that way (that’s what you see in the picture) than the traditional crescent shape. I think this year I’m going to try getting the crescent sheets and just do away completely with the crescent rolls.

Enjoy!

Let The Wild Rumpus Begin

2010-10-06T15:04:11Z

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It’s that of year again…the lead-up to Halloween!!! Yea, yea, yea, and again yea! I’m behind the 8-ball as usual…it’s October 6th and I haven’t even bought the patterns to make the girls’ Halloween costumes for this year. But I just had to take a deep breath and remind myself that I was in the exact same boat last year and I managed to finish both of their costumes in time then. So, I’ll just do it again…at least the girls have already both decided who they want to be (which is, of course, top secret!!!)

We have our usual grand adventures planned for this month…Corn Maize, Pumpkin Patch, lots of Halloween baking treats and crafts, and plenty of time outside in the much-cooler fresh air. I was looking back through last years’ pictures from October and I realized I didn’t post many at all, so I’m going to try and do that some this month. Which, will probably be highly confusing because the girls will look like they get older and then younger again. Okay, it probably won’t confuse anyone but me!

But, in that spirit, here are a few pictures of the girls’ costumes from last year. Gracie was Little Red Riding Hood in a dress that was more than a little bit too short…I have no idea why, but that always seems to happen with her costumes. And Abigail was a “Black & Orange Tap Dancing Ballerina” (guess who came up with that name?).

Abigail was still very much in her Grimace Equals Smile phase….

or her look like she’s mad at the photographer phase…

Yes,she was telling me what to do. See what I mean about her too-short dress? Luckily, the red tights solved most of the problem.

I’ll be back soon with a yummy Halloween treat recipe!

My October Baby

2010-09-20T02:11:48Z

I think I’ve said it before, but October is my absolute favorite month of the year. I love the sights, the sounds, the smells. My dad’s birthday is in October; Steve’s dad’s birthday is in October; our anniversary is in October. So, it’s probably no surprise that when Steve & I started talking about having children that I hoped that at least one of them would be born in October. And, less than a month after we started trying to have a family, it looked like my wish would come true. We found out I was pregnant and when we calculated the due date, it was October 30th. A Halloween baby! I was tickled! But, that pregnancy ended in a very early miscarriage. Less than 3 months later, we found out I was pregnant with Gracie and she made her appearance in January. And, it didn’t matter to me one iota when she was born. I only cared that she was healthy and in my arms.

When Gracie turned two, Steve & I decided that we wanted her to have a sibling. Once again, I got pregnant really quickly. Just a note….don’t let anyone tell you that it’s really difficult to get pregnant after 35…I’m here to tell you that it ain’t necessarily so (quick, name the opera that song comes from ). I was over the moon…I couldn’t wait to have another baby. And, lo and behold, baby number 2 was due in….you guessed it….October! Woo hoo!!! We found out in May that that our October baby was going to be Abigail Mae and I could barely contain my excitement. Another little girl and a birthday in October. It just didn’t get better than that. I was already planning October birthday parties…complete with pumpkin shaped cakes and Halloween themes.

Well, Abigail had different plans. Instead of waiting to come in late October like she was supposed to, she decided to arrive, quickly and dramatically, on September 13th. And once again, I didn’t care when her birthday was; all I cared about was that she safe and healthy. (Personally, I think Abigail moved her birthday to September so she could share her birthday with her beloved Aunt Bronie )

As I watched her last weekend, celebrating her 4th birthday with her sister and her cousins, I realized that however much I may have wanted an October baby, I am beyond blessed by the January and September babies that I do have. And, I’m reminded of the lyrics to the song….”You can’t always get what you want…but you just might find…you get what you need.”

Funny Fridays

2010-09-19T20:13:06Z

Yes, I know it’s Sunday . Let’s just say I’ve been struggling to find anything funny about this week. It’s been a long one, but this weekend has been relaxing & I’m starting to think I can handle next week…which I guess is a good thing, ‘cause it’s coming whether I’m ready for it or not

Anyway….

Abigail turned four on Monday. She is very pleased with herself. And, let’s just say that she has an elevated perception of her age.

She walked into the kitchen on Tuesday and said, “Well, Mommy, now that I’m four, " holding up four fingers for emphasis, “WHEN will I be getting my driver’s license?”

Well, sweetheart, sometime after you learn how to write your name and sometime after you realize that laughing while you crash into things with your Barbie car is not an effective way to drive. I’m guessing sometime in the year 2050….

Funny Fridays

2010-09-10T16:58:00Z

I think about heaven. A lot. I wonder what it will look like there, if I’ll be able to fly through the clouds, what it will feel like to be able to hear with two ears again. I’m curious about a lot of things. The girls, evidently, are, too.

We were in the car last weekend, driving to see my mother in Louisiana. I stopped using the DVD player in the car years ago because we’ve switched to books on CD. The girls don’t seem to mind the lack of movies and I enjoy the books a lot more. Somehow, through poor planning on my part, I forgot to pack any books on CD for us for this trip. So the girls were left to their own devices. Which ended involving a lot of imaginative play with drink straws. And some really interesting conversations.

Just before we reached Mobile, Gracie asked quietly from the backset.

“Mama, do you think we’ll have to go potty?”

I wasn’t sure what she was asking. We’d just stopped so I didn’t really think she needed to stop again. I asked her to explain.

“You know, Mommy! When we get to heaven, do you think we’ll have to go potty?”

I was taken aback. I was trying to gather my thoughts to try and answer her. I was too slow. Abigail had the situation covered.

“Of course we’ll go potty in Heaven, Gwacie. BUUUUUUTTTTT….we’ll just go pee pee through our panties on to the clouds!”

Abigail is wise beyond her years. Or, she is simply crazy.

A Thin Line

2010-09-09T17:41:00Z

This year, Gracie is being graded weekly on her behavior. Ummm, yeah, really. My thought when I heard this was, oh boy, we’re in for quite a year.

This is the way the grading system works. The children start off the week with 30 stars. Each time a child doesn’t exhibit the behavior that the teacher wants them to in several key areas (talking, staying on task, following directions, playing nicely with others), that child loses a star. If, at the end of the week, the child still has all 30 stars, he or she gets an A. Lose one star, A-. Two stars B+. Three stars B- and on and on until….well, you get the picture.

Let me be pretty clear. I don’t think Gracie is a badly behaved child. Personally, I think she’s awesome. But, she does have trouble controlling her talking. Her teachers over the years have called it different things. “Oh, Gracie has such a vivid imagination and just loves to share her stories with everyone.” “Gracie just has so many important things to say.” “Gracie is very enthusiastic.” All of which, of course, are euphemisms for “Gracie talks too much.”

So, I was pleasantly surprised when Gracie came home from school her first Friday with all 30 of her stars. She was very, very proud of her A for the week. That honeymoon lasted through the first two days of her second week. Last Wednesday, she came home and told me that she’d lost two stars . Thursday, she lost one and Friday, two more. She brought home a C+ for behavior last week.

She had to stand in front of the class with the other children who lost 5 or more stars. She wasn’t allowed to play water balloons with the rest of the class on Friday afternoon. We got a note home from the teacher and Gracie was also required to write one to us. Here’s hers:

If you need a translation, here it is:

I am horrible because I missed water balloons. You are the best mom in the world, so can you not get mad at me. Please do not be mad. I lost my stars. Why? I lost 3 stars for talking and 1 for playing.

(Apparently, she either forgot about one of the stars or she lost another after writing this note)

And here’s my dilemma:

Steve & I expect Gracie to behave in school. We expect her to listen when she’s supposed to and be quiet when it’s required. Getting a C+ in behavior isn’t acceptable to us. So, we sat her down this weekend and explained that to her. We told her that if she got a C again, there would be consequences, namely she won’t get to go to Friday afternoon park day and there won’t be any TV for the week. She didn’t receive those punishments this week because we hadn’t told them to her beforehand and we didn’t think it was fair to punish her without explaining everything to her. Now she knows, so there are no excuses.

But, I am not upset with her. I cannot be upset with her. Could you be upset with her after reading that letter? . I believe, in my heart of hearts, that she’s trying very hard not to talk in school. It is very, very difficult for her to do. I tried to explain to Steve how I was feeling with an analogy. Let’s say Gracie really struggled at math. Would we be upset with her if she brought a C+ home on a math test? No, of course we wouldn’t. I don’t think Steve bought my analogy…he looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

I think my point is this: it’s a really fine line to walk when you’re a parent. Part of me wants to discipline her for talking during school and part of me wants to say, “Well, that’s just who she is!” and take her in my arms and hug her and let her know that I love her and that I know she’s trying her very best and that it’s all okay. I guess I’ll end up doing some kind of combination of both approaches. Basically, I’ll just wing it. Like I always do….

Recipes From My Dad|Salmon Florentine

2010-09-08T15:49:25Z

When I was growing up, I thought my dad was a gourmet chef. Not for his day job, of course. I hung out in reality enough to know that he spent he days working as a psychiatrist. But, when he came home in the evenings and on the weekends too, food and cooking were his hobbies, his passion. I used to tell people all the time that my father was a true gourmet. Now that I’m all grown up, I realize that while my father enjoyed gourmet food and he was an excellent cook, he was not a gourmet chef, at least not in the traditional sense. My dad was a master at taking simple ingredients & staples you’re likely to have in your pantry and turning them into delicious meals that flavored my childhood. This recipe was one of my favorites when I was a little girl and it’s still one of my favorite meals now. (It is also one of Abigail’s all-time favorite dinners, which, considering one of the main ingredients is spinach, I think is saying a lot .

While my dad may have been a master at cooking, he was not exactly a master at writing down recipes. My conversations about recipes with him went one of two ways. The first was “add a little of this, add that to taste, bake in a warm oven….” The other was he would write down the recipe in excruciating detail and mail it to me. My sister has his macaroni & cheese recipe. It is seven hand-written pages, complete with information on which aisle in the store to find each ingredient. Neither of those methods was actually conducive to quickly & easily cooking a weeknight dinner . So, as the years have gone by, I’ve started writing up his recipes with ingredients, measurements, and baking instructions. Partly because I need the ease of a recipe…it’s not the easiest thing in the world to cook with two kids, a dog, and a husband underfoot, so I often need a recipe to work from. And, I want these written down so that my girls will have them when they learn to cook and head off to start families of their own.

So, here’s the first in my dad’s long list of recipes.

Salmon Florentine

Ingredients

2 10 oz packages of frozen, chopped spinach

1 15 oz can of salmon (pink or red work equally well)

2 tablespoons sherry (my dad always said to use real sherry, not cooking sherry, but I use the cooking variety and it tastes fine to me…of course my palate is not as refined as his was )

2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

2 tablespoons of lemon juice

1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

3/4 cup to 1 cup of mayonnaise

1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1 sleeve of Ritz crackers

2 tablespoons of butter, melted

Instructions

Thaw chopped spinach. Rinse and drain well (you’ll need to squeeze the spinach to remove the excess moisture)

De-bone salmon and flake with a fork. After years of doing this, I’ve learned that the bulk of the bones in the can of salmon are in the center, so if you carefully remove the salmon from the can and then split the salmon in half, the bones are a lot easier to find and pull out.

Combine spinach, salmon, sherry, Worcestershire, lemon juice, salt, pepper, and 3/4 cup of mayonnaise in a medium bowl. Stir until ingredients are well-combined. If the mixture is not creamy enough, add the additional 1/4 cup of mayonnaise.

Transfer mixture to a casserole dish.

Crush Ritz crackers using a food chopper or a rolling pin and ziplock bag. Sprinkle Ritz crackers over the top of the salmon mixture. Pour melted butter over the top of the crackers. Bake in 350 degree oven for 30-40 minutes until the cracker topping is golden brown and the salmon mixture is bubbly.

Enjoy!

Technorati Tags: Salmon Florentine,Dennis Spiers recipes

Funny Fridays

2010-09-03T15:03:36Z

Abigail & I were at Target several weeks ago. We walked back out to the parking lot after spending the gross domestic product of a small country (have I mentioned that Abigail has become something of a fashionista…shopping with her these days is a grand adventure). I buckled her into her car seat and she started hollering….”Mama, mama…looooooooooook!!! On the ground! There’s trash!” Sure enough, someone had dropped several empty drink cups, a few empty pizza boxes, and what might have been a pretzel wrapper. Abigail’s face took on a look of concern. “Oh, Mama! Someone threw their trash on the ground….they GLITTERED!”.

Do you think she spends too much time crafting with me?