The Bills, The Way, The Truth, The Life

This has been such a loooong weekend and it's only Saturday night!  Friday night we "camped out" at my parents' house and the kids could not have been happier.  We rented their tent and did a trial camping trip in the back yard, complete with a campfire and stories.  The only picture I have is from the fireworks we went to see that night. 

Someone is always wearing a superhero cape.  Which is good, because I regularly need a hero.  We never got around to making s'mores, though, which is horrible, I know.  They got to feed watermelon rinds to a couple of deer this morning and ride on grandpa's lawnmower.  That will have to work.  We ended Friday night with an attempt to pop popcorn over the fire.  Tobin suggested we just put it in the fire.  It was a little overdone!  For a bedtime story, I told them the tale of Arthur and the Sword in the Stone.  I hope I wasn't too far off base.  I've only had it told to me and I've never read the book.  The kids liked it anyhow and we'll have to look for the book at the library.  It felt great to unplug for a while.  Time doesn't matter and the world seems so much bigger when you get out to where you can actually see the stars.  Aria was mesmerized every time she looked up. 

All of it was magical and wonderful and I'm so grateful to my parents for letting us noise up the place but this post is about what happened Friday afternoon.  Well, many Friday afternoons.  Every other Friday is payday.  Like so many people, payday begins with lots of money but by Friday night, most of it is already spent or at least committed to a bill of some sort.  We fit into that group.  On the Fridays we don't get paid, I spend that Friday figuring out how to make it to the next Friday.  We spent a whole week recently with only $4 in the bank.  I am not complaining!  I am amazed. 

I shouldn't be amazed.  God does it all the time but every Friday I have to calm myself down after freaking out about the fact that we owe more than we can pay.  This past Friday was no exception.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I love to pay the bills when the math works out.  I'll whistle while I write the checks and I was on Friday too until I double checked my math.  It was one of those Fridays.  One of those where you pray that the math is wrong.  I usually have to triple check mine anyway cuz my math skills were never good but I check over and over.  I then begin to play the "Who can I pay late" game.  Seeing as how we wouldn't have any money for late fees, that option quickly flew out the window.  I could feel the familiar numbness in my palms and my heart palpitating from the combination of too much coffee and worry and not enough confidence.  I sent my husband a bunch of rapid fire texts about how tight we would be on money and warned him against even using the dollar menu when he forgets his lunch.  Hope you can bike to work soon cuz we won't have any gas money.  Lots of cheerful things that he needed to hear right in the middle of his workday.  That was my pressure valve.  I turned on the tv in hopes that I could tune out the worry and fear but no luck.  How in the world were we going to pay the bills?  Where would we get the money?   

I probably only spent ten minutes in this mind frame but it was too long.  I hopped up off the couch and turned to where I knew I could get a break from the noise in my head.  I opened my journal, prepared to write.  But God stayed my hand.  He wanted me to read, not write.  Listen, not speak.  The verse in my journal was a well worn one. 

Jesus answered, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Light.  No one comes to the Father except through Me." (John 14:6)

Now I've been a Christian for a long time.  These are the verses that I learned in elementary school.  The ones that are underlined and circled and memorized and put on notecards when I hear them over and over my eyes tend to glaze over a bit, which is sad.  So sad.  The thing that is supposed to give me life puts me to sleep.  I saw this verse and my eyes didn't glaze over but I did just think "Yup" and was about to close the book.  But God wanted me to read and listen.  So I listened for once and opened my Bible to John 14.  Most of the letters were in red so that was a good sign. 

You see, the part in the verse that I always forget to memorize is "Jesus answered."  He wasn't just spouting wisdom from a hillside this time.  He was having a conversation with someone.  Someone had asked him a question. 

Verse 5-Thomas said to him, "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" 

I love Thomas.  Maybe he was a doubter.  Maybe a worrier or maybe he was a realist.  "Sure Jesus.  You're just going to float away on some cloud and we're-what?-supposed to catch the next chariot that swings low?  Right."  But he's there and he asks the questions that so many times I ask.  Be real with me God, how is this going to happen?  Be real to me, be with me. 

And he simply answers, "I  am the Way.  I am the truth.  Not the voices in your head that make you think this isn't possible.  The only way you're going to get to where you need to go is through me."  And I know that it works for salvation but sometimes it is so easy to forget when we're just talking about laundry and groceries.  It makes me tear up to think that a God so huge and super-duper cares about the light bill too.  And what makes me feel silly is that it's not like I haven't heard all this stuff before.  I blame my memory loss on the kids.  Oh that I could!  I was a worry-wart long before they came along. 

Christian got a call Friday night saying a client had a check for him.  A check we were previously told wasn't coming because they were declaring bankruptcy.  I wish I could say I skipped over the meltdown part and went right to singing hymns and stuff but I'm not there yet, don't know if I'll ever be.  But I know the Lord will make a way because He is the Way!  Looks good on paper, now if I can just live it!  Have a great rest of your weekend! 

Adventures in Polenta-land

So in my quest for better health of course I've tried to make changes to our diet.  My husband and I are completely different builds.  I can eat the whole cookie jar and gain maybe a pound and if he happens to walk by it, pounds enter his body by osmosis or radiation.  I know, though, that the worst damage is inside.  I'm not exercising to get a thigh gap but to prevent a heart attack brought on by one too many bacon cheeseburgers and being a type A super-stressed maniac.  I mean, hey, I'm not gonna complain if a thigh gap just happens to show up after all this working out but if I have muscle instead, I'll take that. 

We've been helped a lot by our lack of extra money.  Eating out happens very rarely.  My husband is trying to take more lunches from home.  The kids eat most of the leftovers though!  I'm refusing to fry anything even though I luuuuuv fried chicken.  My newest challenge may be finding cheap, gluten-free alternatives for my husband to eat.  I have never really had a problem with it but we're thinking it affects him a lot.  Just experimenting so far.  But I also know that I feel horrible after eating things that are low in fiber like rice.  Not to mention all the things that change in the headlines every day about what will and won't kill us. 

Which is why I decided to make polenta tonight.  Here is the original recipe I used.  It's from Lidia Bastianich on PBS.  I had to make a half recipe once I realized how little corn meal I actually had.  I tweaked it a little too.  I added about a teaspoon of garlic pepper and just enough pepper to know it was in there.  Maybe a 1/4 a teaspoon.  I also added half a cup of parmesan cheese because if there's one thing that will make a new recipe gain approval, it's adding cheese!

Polenta

4 cups water, or use half milk for a richer taste
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon coarse salt
1½ cups coarse yellow cornmeal

In a medium cast-iron saucepan or other heavy pot, bring all ingredients except cornmeal to simmer over medium heat.

Very slowly, begin to sift corn meal into the pan through the fingers of one hand, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or whisk. (This operation will be greatly facilitated if the meal is scooped by the handful from a wide bowl.)

Gradually sift remaining meal into the pan, continue to stir, and reduce heat to medium low. Continue to stir until the polenta is smooth and thick and pulls away from the sides of the pan as it is stirred, about 30 minutes.

Discard bay leaf, pour polenta into a serving bowl or onto a wooden board, and allow it to rest 10 minutes. To serve from the bowl, dip a large spoon into hot water and scoop the polenta onto individual dishes, dipping the spoon into the water between scoops. To serve from the board, cut polenta into segments with a thin, taut string or knife and transfer to plates with a spatula or cake server.

 

Now usually I study recipes.  It's like reading a book and then taking a test.  But really, how hard could polenta be?  It's water, cornmeal, go.  The ingredients are simple.  The one thing is, I didn't read all the way through.  See that part where it says stir for 30 minutes?  Yeah, don't miss that part.  I thought I had the recipe memorized but for some reason the number 30 kept popping in my head.  Looking back at the recipe I cried an audible "What!?"  You mean I'm really supposed to stand here for 30 minutes and stir this thing that is rapidly turning into concrete while my children scream at me that I am starving them to death?  My husband is going to be home any minute and all I have to give him is tomato sauce!  And I can't even switch arms.  My left arm is so gimpy I can't do much with it but hold children in one place while I wipe their faces. 

 

So in addition to the sauce bubbling everywhere and my forearm cramping up and my children ramping up, I'm trying to google "how long do I have to stir polenta" hoping against hope that it's some sort of typo.  Alas, it is not.  I'm failing this test.  And my kids are letting me know.  Oh sure, there are no-stir polenta recipes but no, I didn't pick one of those, did I?  No, I had to go and be all authentic. 

 

See, polenta is actually a good Italian alternative to pasta.  Beans too.  I was trying to be gluten-free in a way we could actually afford.  Sigh. 

 

I plopped a spoonful on each plate followed by a dollop of sauce.  The sauce was awesome, I might add.  Made it from a can of crushed tomatoes.  All by myself.  I didn't take a picture because I couldn't find my phone and by that time I didn't even care. 

 

My husband said it could be good with more work.  I didn't choke him because at least he tried it and didn't spit it out.  None of the kids liked it.  My four-year-old ate four bites because he was four.  Not even Aria would eat it.  She's my little garbage disposal.  Needless to say, I should have taken another run cuz momma's full of polenta.  It was good enough to eat and good sauce covers a multitude of food sins. 

 

 

Biking, Running, and Scarlet Fever (you know, just normal stuff)

I went for a bike ride today!  I haven't gone bike riding since high school.  I haven't had a bike.  I felt so fast.  I wanted to raise my hands on a downhill part and shout, "I'm the queen of the world!"  I'm pretty sure I would have wiped out.  That would have been the end of rekindling my love affair with bikes for sure.  I was afraid that after the ride, I wouldn't want to run but no worries.  I still can't believe I say stuff like that.  "I want to go running."  What's even cooler is that I actually convince myself to do it. 

I remember seeing people running or hearing about a person signing up for a race and thinking "Gosh, if only I were athletic," or "That might be nice to do," but never feeling like it was something I could do.  I've done yoga and every Jillian Michael's DVD I can get my hands on but for some reason running never crossed my mind.  And now I'm running in 90 degree heat!  It has taken some getting used to.  All that stuff that I wore in the winter that I thought I could maybe use some of it for the summer.  I had no idea.  I read somewhere that your body warms up to 20 degrees or so higher than the actual temp while running.  It may take some convincing to believe it's only 20 degrees though. 

My biggest challenge now is to keep going.  To go farther.  To not get bored or quit mentally before I quit physically.  I've tried listening to music but honestly it throws off my rhythm.  Also, I usually listen to Pandora and they always throw me a slow song.  I even tried the work out channels but I don't really like them.  And my ears are so small that even with small ear buds, I'm constantly putting them back in and trying to listen for traffic.  I'm thinking about getting an audio book or two but I love giving the characters a voice and reading it myself.  I'm kinda running out of ideas.  The thing that works the best so far is a running buddy.  I've run the farthest when I'm with someone.  We have a great chat and the miles stack up behind us as we talk about life.  It's pretty stinking awesome but not very helpful for running alone!  Anyone got any ideas?  What do you think about during long distance run?  What do you do when the ADD sets in?  I may just have to get tougher.  Hmmm.

In other news, my middle kiddo has scarlet fever.  Did you freak out at those words?  I certainly did when the doctor came back with that diagnosis!  Anyone that has read any "Little House" books already knows what I'm talking about.  Laura Ingalls Wilder, the author of these semi-autobiographical books, has a sister named Mary.  Mary comes down with scarlet fever, gets rheumatic fever, goes blind.  Yeah, I freaked out a little but thank God we live in a time with antibiotics.  I almost didn't take him to the doctor though.  Coen has sensitive skin.  He had eczema when he was younger and I think he's getting seasonal allergies too.  It's not uncommon for his skin to do weird things.  We've been putting new sunscreen on and he's been out in the heat.  Even when I looked through lists of images of rashes for kids, scarlet fever was there but I never let the possibility enter my mind, I think because I how "old" I thought the disease was.  It's just another form of strep but I was right next to polio in my mind.  Needless to say, if your child breaks out in a sandpaper rash that won't clear up no matter how cool you keep him or how many oatmeal baths he takes, get it checked out!  I feel so bad because I exposed his Sunday school class to it too.  Guh.  Poor little man.  No one is going to go blind though.  Unless they look at my legs for too long but that's a different story.   

Love Songs

I thought I was going to bed.  I was in bed, contacts out and everything.  The kids are still and perfect in their sleep.  The house is quiet except for the dishwasher and the lullabies wafting from their room.  I can hear them from my bed.  They are the source of my sleeplessness. 

When we first had children, I came across a CD called "Lullabies For a Peaceful Sleep."  It is part of our memories now.  We still listen to it.  It is one of the sounds of love.  There are so many songs on this album that talk about how mom and dad will be there through the night, no matter what.  Songs that scared the living crap out of me as a new mom.  How do you live up to such a romantic, godly standard?  The task seemed so daunting at the time but of course I was trying to wrap my head around years at a time instead of days, moments.  I cried them to sleep many nights, rocking and hoping that I could do what the songs said, pledging that I would do my best and that, above all, they would know that they were loved. 

I'm sure my angst was magnified partly due to wicked hormones and lack of sleep but what I wanted most was to be able to somehow infuse them with love with every tilt of the rocker and every breath exhaled.  In the dark, alone with this life that I had been given to try not to screw up royally, it seemed like 18 was light years away.  Eighteen months might as well have been a fairy tale as well.  But I'm measuring things differently now.  The rocking chair doesn't get used much for rocking to sleep anymore.  More often than not, it's a pirate ship.  In a little over a year my first one will go off to kindergarten.  He's beginning to tell time and add and spell.  My three year old makes his own stories and songs at the top of his lungs and my youngest will be two this fall.  She thinks she's all grown up of course. 

It's much too soon to be crying over the first day of school but I know that after the first one, the air will be let out of the balloon and the world we've inflated here at home, that seems so much bigger than life, will fly away and we'll be waiting to see where it will land.

Will they remember these lullabies the way I do?  Or will it be a memory of waging war and finding excuses to keep bedtime from coming?  I know I can't make them love me.  My little lady says "I love you" now before I do when I lay her down.  I know that one day it's possible that she will hate me.  And as much as they may one day doubt their love for me, I hope they never doubt my love for them.  Sometimes it's the best we can do.  To make sure that the ones we love know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we love them.  I know there is One who went beyond a shadow of a doubt for me. 

Devo Detour

So I thought today I would just tinker around with my blog and see what I could do with it.  Apparently the answer is nothing.  Since this is not my computer I thought I should stop before I ended up throwing it across the room.  Oh well.  I won't stop trying but I could definitely use a break. 

In my bible studies a couple days ago I was reading Psalm 119.  Not all of it!  That would be like trying to eat the whole buffet!  The verse my book pointed out was Psalm:119:76, "May Your unfailing love be my comfort, according to Your promise."  I started thinking about all the places I find comfort other than Jesus.  Food, chocolate (also a food but way awesomer), sleep, running, but mainly food.  There are instances when I get it right and have the sense to stop and pray.  Something along the lines of "Jesus, be a fence...between me and these kids.  Cuz if I get my hands on them right now..."  For a large portion, though, food is what I turn to.  It's kind of laughable to have this skinny girl be a food addict and maybe I'm exaggerating but I don't think so.  Chocolate, coffee, ice cream, sugar and food in general.  I hide it, I hoard it, and it consumes way too much of my mind.  I can eat my husband under the table and that's saying something! 

This verse, though, is a reminder of where my comfort should be.  So much easier said than done.  There are days when I can make it without coffee and chocolate but they are few and far between.  I can tell the difference.  I can also tell the difference on days when I go without my time with God.  Those are usually the days when I eat more and enjoy life less.  But not just this verse.  There is the verse before it as well.  This whole passage really.  Let me get it for you, starting with verse 73,

"Your hands made me and formed me;
give me understanding to learn your commands.
74 May those who fear you rejoice when they see me,
for I have put my hope in your word.
75 I know, O Lord, that your laws are righteous,
and in faithfulness you have afflicted me. 
76 May your unfailing love be my comfort,
according to your promise to your servant. 
77 Let your compassion come to me that I may live,
for your law is my delight.
78 May the arrogant be put to shame for wronging me without cause,
but I will meditate on your precepts.
79 May those who fear you turn to me,
those who understand your statutes.
80 May my heart be blameless toward your decrees,
that I may not be put to shame. 

Like I said, even in this passage there's a whole bunch of stuff to pick up!  I really don't care about who done me wrong or anything.  I mean God takes care of that.  I'm not going around looking for people for God to zap on my behalf.  But the verse about being afflicted is awesome.  Afflicted is defined as severe distress according to Webster.  It can be something as relatively simple as an embarrassment or synonymous with torture.  And maybe I'm not reading this right but here's what I think.  I think in verse 75 it talks about God's faithfulness, not ours.  The faithfulness to himself.  The God that knows the plans He has for me and he will be faithful to bring them to reality.  He isn't a god of I-hope-so's and maybe's.  He's a god with a plan and a way to get you where you need to go. 

Now, if you're like me, maybe you have thrown a fit or two along the way because He didn't look at your map and the plans you had made, let alone approve them.  If you're like me, maybe you even sat down on the road a time or two and decided you quit.  Maybe you felt like the one being zapped.  But you have an amazing story that's still being written!  Jesus also said, "Abide in me and I will abide in you." (John 15:4)  One of the meanings of abide is "to put up with".  It's not super holy and maybe this isn't what Jesus meant, but in order for us to stick close to him and stay with him on this unknown path that he is taking us down, we're going to have to put up with not knowing why He puts us through some of the things He puts us through.  I mean, if He can put up with my whining and complaining and questioning and short-sightedness, I guess I could try to put up with His almighty, perfect plan.  We are afflicted for a reason, tested and tried to come out stronger.  To come out like pure gold instead of the grungy stuff we are now.  Too bad it's a lifelong process and I'll never get to proclaim how perfect I am down here.  But to get to spend eternity with this Father who loves us enough to let us suffer a little in light of what he has planned for us?  I can put up with that. 



 

Let Them Eat Bread!

I think summertime should be bath-free.  It seems like they should have more baths because they get so dirty but the fact that they're just going to turn around and find more dirt, sunscreen, and popsicles kind of makes bath time just a waste of water.  I'm going to see if soap is allowed in the pool.  That way we could have our fun and get an occasional bath in at the same time.  At our old house I just got out the bubble bath and gave them a shower in the sprinklers!  Oh well, they have fun either way I suppose.  Aria is getting a little too brave.  She wants to take off her floaty ring thing and just walk down the steps into the water.  She actually threw a fit when I tried to hold her hand! 

We had a great day.  Most of the time we spent it outside doing art on the patio and swimming but during naptime I had my own project.  Break making!  We ran out, what was I supposed to do?  I thought about finding a discount store and I know I will eventually.  Then I thought about how I promised to take them swimming and the gas it would cost to go get bread and knowing I would buy much more than bread because I just know they'll have little chocolate gem donuts that I can't resist.  So I made bread.  I used this recipe here.  Of course I found it on Pinterest.  I'd re-post it here but I don't want to get sued for copyright infringement and since I'm new to this whole blogging thing I think I'll play it safe.   

Her picture is much cuter than mine. 

The one on the right is a little mangled because when I split them up for the loaf pans I did it totally wonky and uneven!  This was such an easy recipe and I actually had everything in the house already.  Even the vital wheat gluten.  It's not that expensive to buy if you don't have it though.  The recipe also calls for a stand mixer.  I don't have one and the bread still came out great.  I was a little surprised that I was supposed to dump everything in at the same time but as long as you stir it well enough and let the butter soften long enough it works.  I did use butter in mine instead of bacon drippings.  That just seems wrong in bread and we don't use much bacon around here anyway.  I think the only other tweak I would make is to maybe not add so much honey if you're going to make sandwich bread out of it.  It is wonderfully sweet if you were to convert this to a dinner roll recipe, which seems very possible, but I don't know how it will taste with a turkey sandwich.  We shall see.  Oh and an awesome tip I discovered while making pizza last week:  whenever you have a recipe that calls for the dough to rise and you don't want to turn on your oven, use the heated dry/plate warmer setting on your dishwasher!  Of course, that is if you have one and have the luck of having it empty. 

Also, if you don't have loaf pans this recipe will work without them, just without the uniform (sort of) shape.  Oh and if you are doing the gluten free thing and this is of absolutely no help to you, you should still bake this bread for a neighbor (as long as you have very strong willpower).  This made my house smell amazing while it was baking!  I had to practically drag the kids to the pool because I couldn't stand the smell of them and just wanted to rip off a hunk and eat it right then and there! 

I didn't wake up today planning on making bread but after eating pb&j for lunch we were out!  I also didn't plan on getting an upper body workout, but not having a stand mixer is great if you're trying to tone your arms.  I have so much more to write about but it's a completely different subject and this post would get ridiculously long.  If you're scared of making bread, this is a great recipe for us beginners.  Have fun!

Livin' The Dream (Even When it Doesn't Feel So Dreamy!)

Boy, do I feel better after running on Saturday!  My husband likes me better too.  Yesterday...I hardly remember yesterday!  I had to ask my husband and he couldn't remember either!  The sad thing is that we went on a date and couldn't remember it.  Livin the dream, baby.  We haven't been out on a date in a couple of months I think.  I know we went out for my birthday in March, I think.  Definitely made it out for Valentine's Day.  We just get excited about uninterrupted conversations, let alone getting out of the house alone.  But thankfully it happened.  Nothing spectacular or romantic.  Just a dinner.  With stormy weather, there wasn't much of a chance for a walk and no time for a movie. 

This is not what has been on my mind, though.  Obviously, since I forgot it already!  No, since it's Sunday, I still have this morning's sermon echoing in my head.  It was about dreams.  Having them, living them out, seeing them as God has them planned out, not like the way we see them, which usually means we're in the center.  We even got a homework assignment; to write down our dream.  But which one?  The silly ones that I think will never come true?  The ones that wake me up at night that I desperately want to be true?  What has God planted in my heart?  What have I put there in an attempt to feel significant?  And what things are for a season and what are the things that will be in our lives forever, a part of how we are defined?  And how in the world am I supposed to know that until I look back over my life at the end of it? 

Oh how things come together.  Let me explain.  I've been carrying around this 11:11 verse from Numbers.  It's Moses with the Israelites and he's talking--well complaining--to God.  "He asked the Lord, 'Why have you brought this trouble on your servant?  What have I done to displease you that you put the burden of all these people on me?'"  One verse.  I've been carrying it around in my head because when I read it as I was skimming through all the 11:11 verses I could find, it stuck with me as a reminder to not complain.  I mention it in my 11:11 blog post that this is how I feel when I have to tackle the laundry or the dishes or pick up the living room for the billionth time.  The list goes on and on with opportunities to complain.  But I KNOW that I'm blessed.  Beyond belief.  Beyond what I imagined and we are bursting at the seams with children to tuck in at night.  I wish I could say that I never take that for granted because I shouldn't.  Every moment is a gift and the next one is not guaranteed.  I prayed for these kids and my husband for a long time.  This was my dream.  This is my dream.  To watch the kids grow up safe and healthy.  To celebrate fifty years or more with my husband.  So when I read Numbers 11:12, I pretty much have to kick myself.  "Did I conceive all these people?  Did I give them birth?  Why do you tell me to carry them in my arms, as a nurse carries an infant, to the land you promised on oath to their forefathers?"

Insert foot in mouth now.  Face palm.  Mom fail.  Doh!  Whatever else you can think of.  Oh yes, eat crow and humble pie after that.  Why yes, I conceived them.  Give them birth?  Check.  I'm an idiot.  Whatever dreams I may have about what I'd like to do with my life outside of these kids kind of doesn't matter so much anymore.  I mean, God uses everything we have to offer for His plan.  Sometimes I feel like I have a lot to offer and sometimes all I have is my ability to eat large quantities of food when I shouldn't.  I think God sees me as a unique person and not "just a mom".  There will be things He'll have for me to do as the kids leave the nest but that's years away from now.  My job right now is to allow God to use me to be the best wife and mom I can be to my family.  That's my dream.  If I'm a singer, it will be lullabies.  If I'm a dancer, it will be with the kids in the living room.  If I'm a lawyer, it'll be in defense of my family. 

Here's the other crazy thing that's been floating around in my head.  I had a dream about back in the day.  I was getting ready to give my initial sermon along with some other people.  As everyone went up to preach, they were awesome.  Great sermons, really good stuff.  And I was as nervous as always.  But when it was my turn I had no sermon.  I don't know if embarrassed was what I was feeling but I was definitely aware that I probably wouldn't get to be a preacher with my next move.  I picked up a little baby and began to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."  It was all I had.  No notecards or three points or verses.  Just a simple song to a little baby. 

I know these things aren't a coincidence but a path and a plan from God that has given me a merciful past, an awesome present, and an unimaginable future.     

I Need New Running Shoes and a New Attitude!

I'm finally going to suck it up and go running tomorrow.  I haven't done well.  I need to sign up for another race.  They are my biggest motivation.  The other problem I'm having is deciding what distance to train for.  A 5k is much easier than it used to be but I don't know if I want to try to get faster at that distance or try for a longer one.  It would feel awesome to say I ran a half-marathon but I get so bored!  I know it's mind over matter at this point and when my mind starts wondering it's usually to my to-do list.  When I'm on the road it calls to me.  What if my husband needs help with the kids?  What if he's having trouble finding socks for work?  There are dishes to do and laundry.  I have to get back before sundown, before he leaves so I can shower.  I have to, I have to, I have to...

The list.  The infernal list.  I constantly forget to put myself on the list.  Too often showering is on the wish-list and not the must-do list!  Sleeping is on the wish-list, too.  This whole waking up early to go running is new to me.  I'm more of a morning person but 6am?  I'll be zonked out by noon.  Since I started running in December, getting used to morning running is gonna take some time.  Maybe that should be my goal.  Forget about the faster 5k or half marathon, I'll just work on getting out of bed in the morning!  I've got to get it figured out soon because I'm starting to go crazy without it.  This running thing is addictive.  A much better anti-depressant than food although I would never admit that to chocolate.

In other news, I made broccamole.  I personally would give it another name like broccoli dip because as soon as I heard "broccamole", I immediately knew it wouldn't be as good as guac.  Nothing.  Could ever.  Be.  As good.  As guacamole.  It was decent in it's own right. You can find the recipe here.  The recipe says to serve it warm but that was just gross.  Not to mention it looks like poo so you have to get past that.  With the broccoli smell it kind of smells like poo.  But throw in a hefty supply of cilantro and that saves it.  If you like cilantro.  If you think cilantro tastes like grass, skip this recipe altogether.  I ate it.  My daughter ate it.  My three year old tried it and spit it out and my four year old wouldn't even touch it.  My husband just laughed and said something about sacrilege.  I ate it because I'm not one to waste food and with the cream cheese and cilantro in it, it was at least bearable.  Know it was healthy for me helped too.  It's a good bet that I won't make it again.  Not a fail but not a popular recipe in my family. 

I should be in bed.  This run is going to be a disaster.  That's the spirit, Mel!  I will be cheerier in the morning, I hope. 

The Crumby Mom Group

There are certain stages in life that lead us to fit in to certain groups.  Rites of passage, so to speak.  You start dating someone and you get to change your relationship status on Facebook.  Engagement, marriage, children.  Each stage has with it a different membership card.  Hobbies too.  Everyone has their own lingo.  I'm still trying to figure out all the running words I'm supposed to know.  My most used phrase is, "I must go run or heads will roll."  I usually get shooed out of the house after that one.

The latest group or club we became a part of was the minivan club.  It's like once you get a certain type of car, you notice them everywhere.  I want to throw up a fist of van pride at stop lights.  I also find my self racing what I assume to be soccer moms on the freeway as well.  Not good on the gas mileage. 

But perhaps the group I am most comfortable with is the group that is in hiding.  They (we) are underground.  We (they) post amazing projects on Pinterest only to fail at many of them.  Here's one:

What was supposed to happen was you were supposed to shake the eggs before you boiled them.  This was supposed to scramble the eggs inside the shell and when you peeled them you would have a perfectly golden egg with perfectly blended yolk and white.  What happened was that every. single. egg. exploded.  Not one came out unscathed!  The kids knew something was wrong and wouldn't touch them.  I gagged even trying to peel the suckers. 

You see, this group that I speak of will never let you come over unannounced for fear that you are not part of the group and will thus judge them on the state of their ransacked house.  And if you plan a playdate it might have to be a week or two in advance so that they can dispose of the evidence of the days when their children have run roughshod over them and destroy the house in an hour.  The group I really belong to, really feel at home with is the Crumby Mom Group.  This is the group that, no matter how self-depreciating we may be in public just to get a laugh, on the inside we are cringing, "If you only knew how much I wasn't joking."  This is the group that no matter how many times you swept the floor today, there are still crumbs everywhere.  Even in the living room and on the couch where food is forbidden.  These are the same moms that maybe didn't even sweep the floor once today because if they have to sweep one more time the will scream.  And yeah, the kids had graham crackers on the couch even though it's forbidden cuz mommy is about to break out the forbidden "mommy drink" before daddy even gets home. 

Of course, sometimes we have a #winning moment when it comes to motherhood and we get a free pass to the perfect mother group.  But then our kid punches some other kid and we get put on probation or our card gets revoked altogether.  If you love your kids desperately and endlessly but find yourself thinking #momfail or #facepalm more often than not, you might be in this group.  If you pray feverishly that you son will be just a regular genius and not an evil genius, you might be in this goup.  If, at the end of the night, after you've put them to bed and you sit down just for one show and you find that you've forgotten about the wet laundry in the wahser and all the dishes that need done and the only energy you have left is to drag yourself to bed, congratulations!  You are not alone.  You belong to a secret society.  Our official badges are snot and/or some other bodily fluid that usually shows up on our shoulders.  We can also be recognized by a smear of some sort of food (we hope) on a pant leg or two. 

We are not an exclusive group.  We do have guest passes for the perfect parent that is having a rough day.  You can stay until your child moves out, even.  You can even come over for coffee sometime.  Just call a week in advance and I apologize in advance if my child punches yours. 

Simple Gifts

I am skilled at multi-tasking.  I'm eating ice cream straight from the carton while I write this.  Impressive, I know.  That, however, is not my subject for the night.  I hadn't planned on blogging tonight but a funny thing happened to me on the way out of Walmart. 

I finally went shopping.  I was waiting until the circulars came out and I had time to do some price matching.  It was finally time!  The house would be full of bread and bananas and jelly and actual peanut butter!  And then the hubby said he would be home a little late.  An hour late.  I didn't leave for Walmart until after 8 and didn't get home till almost 11.  Oh well.  At least I had the money to go grocery shopping! 

Now I know I'm not the only one who comp shops.  I know about the crazy coupon ladies out there.  I'm a newb when it comes to this game.  I know.  But come on!  Every sale item had vanished as if Cruella Deville had gotten in on the game and instead of puppies she wanted a hundred 99 cent bottles of pasta sauce.  Every corner I turned, expecting to find a deal there were only empty carboard boxes and plastic wrap that is the equivalent of supermarket tumbleweed.  But as I told my husband when he wondered where we would put all this food I brought home, "We will make it work." 

That's become my mantra until I get sick of it.  We will make it work.  We have three little kids in a two bedroom apartment.  We will make it work.  He's going to pick up a second job to help with the bills.  We will make it work.  We have to.  Or we could sit around and be mad about whatever situation comes our way.  I've done it.  It doesn't fix the problem. 

Rabbit hole.  Sorry.  The point of my story.  So I'm new at this thing and don't have Walmart's policies down pat.  Just in case you don't know, they don't do BOGO.  As I'm reading this I can see in my mind on the policies page where this is written.  Didn't remember that in the store though!  Murfin's has Kellogg's cereals for buy one, get one free.  Now, we don't buy name brand cereals unless there is a birthday or Christmas coming up but this was a sale so I went for it.  Plus, my oldest has been sick and he asked me specifically to pick up the white squares cereal.  That's code for Frosted Mini-Wheats.  I plunked it down on the checkout belt and was tempted to shout out, "Bogo!" at the top of my lungs but chickened out.  Instead, I cooly motioned to them and announced that they were buy one get one free at Murfin's.  The cashier then gave me the sad news and asked if I wanted them anyway.  Knowing we still had some Toasty O's or whatever at home, I shrugged and said, "No thanks.  Maybe next time," and went on with the next items. 

One of the maddening things about Walmart is their tendency to have only one or two lanes open at night.  I didn't get to the checkout line till 10:00.  There was a regular line, the cigarette line and a speedy checkout open.  Multiple people saw my mass of groceries, scowled and went in search of another register.  I was apparently such a problem that they opened the register next to me.  As Gilly would say, "Sorry!" 

This one man, though, apparently had no place urgent to get to and jovially waited while I tried to make jokes with the cashier, who was nice as well considering, by this time, we had spent so much time together we were about to swap photos of our children.  He commented on the diapers and asked how many little ones I had at home.  The final total was announced and the man behind me cheered, "I'm impressed!"  I smiled back and only half-joked, "I'm exhausted!"  I gathered my bags and my strength, wished everyone a good night, and heaved the cart towards the door. 

Just as I picked up speed (after the paper towels fell out from the bottom) in the parking lot, I heard, "You forgot these!"  It was the man behind me from the checkout line.  I figured it was one of my bags and started to thank him and apologize but then I looked and saw two boxes of brand name cereal.  "Oh gosh, thank you so much!"  He's already running away at this point and shouts over his shoulder, "It's a gift!  From the Lord!" 

It's not like this is my first gift from strangers.  But usually it is in the form of things I need.  The essentials, diapers, food, clothes, etc.  I remember way back when the lady at Aldi's paid for my groceries when I went over.  She was just going to pay for the part that I was over and then she demanded to pay the whole thing!  Something as simple as cereal.  Nothing we needed.  Nothing we couldn't live without.  Just a simple reminder that God loves to give his kids good things.  It's like when my husband brings home ice cream for the kids or flowers for me and the little ladybug.  Just a reminder that we are unordinarily loved.    Thank you, cereal superhero.  For the reminder that I am so blessed.  My cart, and my heart, overfloweth!  And, yeah, I know that was cheesy!

When Necessity Leads to Creativity--and Almond Butter!

This week has been awfully odd.  It's only Wednesday.  Yesterday felt like Friday and today feels like Monday.  Not Monday in a bad way.  We had a great time at the library and I got in a run between rain showers.  I think the other thing that has been throwing me off is that I didn't go grocery shopping this weekend.  I know it sounds like a little thing but it's one little spoke in my wheel of routine.  It was nice not having to drag myself to the store after the kids go to bed and yawn rudely at the checkout lady.  I always make sure to tell them I'm not commenting on their speed or lack thereof.  Not to mention, I'm sure they don't like how contagious it is! 

My new routine?  Well, at least the one I'm trying to establish, is only going grocery shopping every two weeks.  I know there are many people who can do this and I actually had it down at one point but ever since we moved I've been out of the rhythm which is bad because we live even farther away from Walmart than we used to!  I think another issue is the issue of space for food storage.  Our fridge is smaller, we have no pantry and a deep freezer is a dream for the future.  Needless to say, keeping food costs down for a family of five and trying to eat healthy is a delicate balance at best and at worst, it's downright impossible! 

I want to cut down our shopping for obvious reasons.  I will go in for one or two things and get distracted and enticed by all the shiny, yummy things and come out cringing with the reciept in my hand shaking.  I'm trying to stick to my new rule but my husband made an impromptu trip to the Price Cutter across the highway and spent fifty bucks!  Not good!  Other hiccups I've run into?  The fact that as of yesterday we are out of bread, jelly, and peanut butter.  I know!  Peanut butter!  How could this happen.  We have clothes, a roof over our heads, but no peanut butter!  We put peanut butter in everything, including chili.  It is a separate food group, just like chocolate.  Thank God we're not out of chocolate.  I don't even want to dwell on that thought. 

Remember when I said this week has been odd?  Yeah well, even with all the stuff missing in our house, somehow I just happen to have a bag of almonds and hazelnuts still in their shells.  Not sure how old they are but I'm guessing from the beginning of the year.  And I just happened to be holding on to the little bit of organic coconut oil from my birthday or Christmas gift.  Can't really remember that far back anymore.  And even though the honey is almost gone I had just enough.  So after an hour of cracking almonds and hazelnuts I had enough (minus some for mommy's snack time) to make almond and hazelnut butter! 

The kids all slept for naptime--miracle!--because yesterday was free day at the zoo.  I will NEVER do that again!  I brought my nieces to suffer with me.  Sorry girls.  So crowded and crazy.  Anywho, they were zonked out and by the time they woke up I was  ready to go. 

We threw the nuts in the oven at 350 for almost 10 minutes.  Ten minutes was the plan but our oven runs hot so they almost burned at around eight minutes.  I tried to get them to cool off faster by putting them in the freezer.  The skins got all crackly and some rubbed off.  I tried to include the skins because that's fiber and I'm sure there are some vitamins and minerals in there too but do what you wanna do.  I had a regular old food processor and threw them in there until they were as smooth as they could get.  I don't know how powerful yours is but mine isn't top of the line, still a good Black & Decker.  After I ground them up I added in the liquified coocnut oil and honey.  I think I had about a tablespoon or two of coconut oil and a tablespoon of honey.  You may need to add more because mine was still kind of an almond paste but I didn't want to add any more honey because I liked how sweet it was.  Just add a little at a time to make sure you don't get it too oily or too sweet for your liking.  Oh and I added a pinch of salt. 

Seriously, folks, if I can make this you can do it!  And if you love almonds as much as I do you have not lived until you've made your own almond butter.  I'm pretty sure you could do it in a blender if yours is powerful.  I think my food processor was the more powerful of the two.  Oh, and here's a picture of the final product.  I know, I need to work on presentation!

 I'm going to have to make some homemade bread to put it on though!  If I don't eat it all by the spoonful first, that is!  Nom, nom.