Just Keeping It Real

The Kind of Information I Can Use.

Found out some things I didn't know or hadn't thought of recently. One is if you leave your shower curtain open after you take a shower for long enough to let it dry less mold will grow in your shower and your bathroom will smell fresher. Now this is the kind of information I can use! Maybe everyone else already knew that but I didn't. Makes sense though. Just make sure to close it later or you will get mold on your shower liner.

Also, if you need help knowing how to make sweet tea and everyone you ask makes it seem like an unknowable mystery then just go to grits.com. It is pretty simple really.

Another one is if you need a warm compress a disposable diaper will work great. Just pour hot water into one and hold it on the spot that needs it. The water can even be infused with whatever kind of healing herbs you want! I put all of our outgrown newborn diapers in the medicine cabinet to use in times of need. Works great for mastitis or other nursing issues.

Cabbage on the affected area knocks out mastitis as good as an antibiotic. Email me if you want more details.

Like I said this is the kind of information I can use.

Spice Is my Favorite.

I mentioned earlier I wanted to to do a lot of baking this holiday season. I did as much as I possibly could but I didn't really do much in the end. Still it was lots of fun and very yummy. I think I want to make it a tradition every year. Much more convenient when I am pregnant and all those extra calories don't matter as much, but hey, that is what my new treadmill is for, right? Anyway I didn't fall in love with any new recipes during my experience, but I re fell in love with one that I learned last fall. I love it for two reasons -- because it is ridiculously easy and amazingly delicious. Easiness is a feature I appreciate in my extra curricular activities at this time in my life. So here is my go to pumpkin muffin recipe (if you are indiginified by the use of box mixes read no further) :

Take any box cake or muffin mix (I have used yellow, chocolate, and spice. Spice is my favorite.) Follow the directions on the box replacing the oil with a can of pumpkin. How easy is that. And it is SO yummy and SO moist. Love it. Also good with chocolate chips! Yum!

It's Nothing Fancy.

1. Today my kids had yogurt and whole wheat tortillas for lunch. They had milk to drink. Afton drank hers out of a big girl cup. I am trying to eliminate sippies from her life by the time she turns three.

2. I started a new menu planning system this week. I think it is actually too mundane and obvious to share, though if anyone wants to know what it is I will gladly do so. Anyway I am pumped about it. I feel like it is going to make dinner time so much more fun and also make eating out so much more fun because we won't be doing it out of desperation but because we want to.

Tonight I am making Continental Chicken. It was classic around my house when I was growing up. I hated it then, but I love it now. I have enjoyed my friends sharing recipes and meal planning on their blogs lately so I will give you this recipe. It's nothing fancy...just like me.

Family size can of cream of mushroom soup.

8 oz. Sour Cream

Four chicken breasts.

Pop all that good stuff into a crock pot and cook on low for 8 hours. Voila. Super yummy and super easy. I love crock pots. I just hate cleaning them. Serve over rice.

My Weak Spot For Chipotle Has Developed Into A Passionate Love

 I am getting dangerously obsessed with Chipotle.  Ron and I have always had a weak spot for it in our hearts and our eating out budget, but since I have been pregnant and eating (and on bad days even  cooking) a lot of our regular foods grosses me out my weak spot for Chipotle has developed into a passionate love with which there is no reasoning.  I said this to Ron last week, "When Chipotle is SO delicious, SO affordable, fills you up so SO well, and serves wholesome food you can feel good about putting into your body and feeding to your children why would you ever eat anywhere else including your own home?"  He just looked at me for a long time and said "You are making me nervous."  Don't worry, baby, I am making myself nervous too.

My New Year's Resolutions

In December of 2003 my husband Ron sent me a postcard from Florida. On it he said, "It is cliche not make New Year's because they're cliche, so think of something good." That has pretty much been my view on the subject ever since. Here are mine for this year:

1. Brush Afton's teeth twice a day EVERYDAY.
2. Do the dinner dishes at night instead of the next morning.
3. Have friends over for dinner once a week.

I am sharing these here because I hear publicizing your goals is a good way to keep you from quitting on them. I am totally embarrassed by one and two because having them as goals is like saying to the world "Hey, I don't brush my daughter's teeth and I leave my dishes sitting out all night!" But I posted them anyway. Judge me if you must. I don't blame you.

For the record I do brush Afton's teeth, just not nearly as regularly as I should. She squirms so much that it seems pointless, so it never gets high priority. Now that I have outed myself on the Internet though, hopefully those cute little teeth will get the attention they deserve.

As for the "I leave my dishes sitting out all night" part, well, I have no for the record statement for that. I do it. Pretty much every night. I know, I know! I am stopping though. That is what this humbling (humiliating) post is about.

As for the last one, I know it sounds very ambitious. It is meant to be. It is designed to be a boot camp of sorts, on the reasoning that if you do something a whole bunch of times in a row it stops being scary. Time for embarrassing confession number three. I am terrified of having people over for dinner. Every time we do have company we have a great time. We always talk about how fun it was and wonder why we don't do it more often. I know why though. It is because I get totally nervous about the prospect of cooking for other people. It is quite silly, really. It comes down the fact that I only know how to cook really normal things. I always feel like I need to be able to pull something fancy out of my hat and I know that I have nothing fancy in there. Nothing. Just stuff like spaghetti. Anyway, I always tell myself it is not about fancy food it is about fun and fellowship. I can tell myself that until I am blue in the face, but until I overcome my nervousness I am going to let fretting over fancy food keep me (and my family) from lots of occasions of fellowship and fun. (How is that for alliteration?) That is where resolution number three comes in. If I force myself to cook for friends fifty times this year I think I will beat back the majority of my nerves and I know we will have a lot of fun in the process.

So, there you have it. Wish me Godspeed! Happy New Year!

My Apple Pie Baking Playlist

When I baked my first apple pie last week my husband said, "That's not usually your style to bake a pie from scratch in the middle of the afternoon. Mmm. But maybe it should be." I wouldn't mind afternoon pie baking to become "my style" and so with the baking of my second ever apple pie a few days later I created this play list. Anything I am going to do repeatedly has to have its own playlist, right? For me it created the perfect apple pie baking atmosphere.

Another Day In Paradise ~ Phil Collins
Just Like A Woman ~ Bob Dylan
Born Country ~ Alabama
Coal Miner's Daughter ~ Loretta Lynn
Kiss An Angel Good Morning ~ Charley Pride
Elevator Love Letter ~ Stars
Once You've Loved Somebody ~ Dixie Chicks
Today My World Slipped Away ~ George Strait
Let's Embrace ~ Joseph Arthur
Mountain Music ~ Alabama
New Soul ~ Yael Naim
If You Ask Me To ~ Celine Dion
Forever Young ~ Rod Stewart
That's The Way Love Goes ~ Merle Haggard
The Good Stuff ~ Kenny Chesney
Time After Time ~ Cyndi Lauper
Too Busy Being In Love ~ Doug Stone
Tubthumping ~ Chumbawamba
Something Happened On The Way To Heave ~ Phil Collins

Happy Fall!

Shark Week

This email I sent to my husband pretty much sums up what our week has been like around here:

We are home from Java. Thanks so much. I had a cheese danish. You know, for protein. Afton and I shared an orange juice. It was nice. I realized on the way there this is pretty much the worst week of my life not including a tragedy. I particularly mean as far as my performance as a wife and mother goes. Culminating in me accidently stepping on Afton's arm and breaking her heart. All I can say is TGIF! I love you soupy!

Whistle While You Work

We are on our third day in a row of intense separation anxiety around here. It is the kind where even the simple act of carrying my coffee cup from the living room to the kitchen sink is met with huge tears and terrified, heartbroken wails of protest. Excusing myself to use the bathroom is, of course, much, much worse. It is also a variety of separation that is not particularly particular. It doesn't seem that separation from me personally is what causes distress (that would be kind of flattering and precious) but separation from people in general. If anyone else is here I am completely dispensable, but when it is just me and Afton here my presence seems to rank in necessity right up there with oxygen. What makes this kind of separation anxiety (aloneness anxiety I think describes it better)so trying for me is that it lasts for most of the day, because for most of the day it is just us around here, and it vanishes as soon as Daddy gets home. He never really gets to see it and so of necessity it is a burden I carry alone.

But this post is not really about that. Another post will be soon. I have a theory that separation anxiety is much like puppy love, and will perhaps elaborate on that when I have more time. This post is to be about music, so let me get to that. This morning my frazzled nerves and I visited a sweet blog that asked its reader's what they were thankful for today. The most honest answer I could come up with at the time was easily summed up in two words. Nap Time. I have tons and tons and tons upon tons of things to be thankful for but today, at least at that moment, nap time was topping the list. I wished I had an answer that would be more profound and heartwarming, but if I was being honest that was what I had to say.

Later on, at the commencement of blessed nap time number two, I looked around at the state of my house, which has become an innocent victim of our aloneness anxiety crisis, and felt I had so very much to do before tomorrow, when all I wanted to do was sit down and soak up some silence. I knew that wasn't the best option, that I would feel much better if I reclaimed my living room from its occupiers (toys, pajamas, old magazines, and yes, more than a couple dirty diapers). Before I tackled this I turned on my iPod, something I usually do while cleaning but have neglected in the past few days of survival mode. As soon as I did that everything changed. Birds started chirping, the sunshine poured through my windows, a tangible peace settled upon my living room. I was going to make it and cleaning was going to be fun!

I am so amazed by and so thankful for the transforming power of music! It does many things, but what I am most thankful for today is its power to make mundane tasks more pleasant. Its power to get you through what you've got to do. God didn't have to bless us with it, but I am so glad he did. So to nap time, I add music as the things I am most aware of being thankful for today.

Home-Making ~ by J.R. Miller

I wrote this review for my church newsletter which I hope explains its brevity and broadness. I wish I had time to do this blessed book more justice, but for now, I simply do not. I will add two things:

1. I am not exaggerating when I say this is the best book I have ever read.

2. It makes an excellent wedding present. I doubt I will ever give anything else.

I heartily recommend Home-Making by J.R. Miller to anyone who is a part of a family! Yes, that is everybody! Do not be misled by the title or the cover. This is not a book written only for wives and mothers. All members of a Christian home – fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, husbands, and wives will be blessed, encouraged, sharpened, and challenged by a reading of this book.

Miller begins his book with a chapter on what the calls "The Wedded Life" which is the very bedrock of the family. He then devotes a chapter to each role in every family. There is a chapter directed to the husband, the wife, the parents, the children, and a chapter on the special relationship between brothers and sisters.

In each of these chapters Miller describes with beauty and eloquence what it looks like when Christians live out the sweet sacrifice of Christ daily in the most important place on earth – the home. The final chapters of the book are spent on more comprehensive topics such as the home life and religion in the home.

I hope you will be as inspired by this lovely book as I have been.

"You know what a true home ought to be. It ought to be a place where love rules. It ought to be beautiful, bright, joyous, full of tenderness and affection; a place in which all are growing happier and better each day."

To Remember When Overwhelmed, Interrupted, and Delayed

"It is something that my husband has been satisfied with his wife and his home today; that does me good."

~Elizabeth Prentiss, Stepping Heavenward

Three Calendars

When 2005 became 2006 and it was time to switch the calendars, I decided not to throw the 2005 calendar away. 2005 was the first full year Ron and I were married and I thought it would be so special to keep every calendar we ever had as a married couple. It would be so cute, I thought, to look back when we were in our fifties and remember that on February 22 of the first year we were married I worked from 9:00AM to 5:30PM and Ron worked from 3:00PM to 11:30PM. You know, and other stuff like that. Ever since then at the beginning of the new year I have tucked away the previous year's calendar somewhere in my closet.

Today as I was picking up my messy closet I came across all the calendars we have ever had together and something really struck me. There were only three of them. Wow. Every single day of my entire marriage could fit into those three small booklets. I felt so small and insignificant. Small and insignificant, like I really am. Those three years had been the biggest and most significant of my life. But they were still just three tiny years. I thought of all the people I knew who would have thirty or forty calendars had they saved them all, or of Ron's grandma who had earned sixty-five calendars before she lost her husband last spring. There were people not much older that me who were already up to ten or more. I only had three. Those three calendars served as great reminder to me of all I still have to learn. Sometimes when I can feel myself growing and learning and changing so much I get excited and maybe a little proud of myself and feel like I am actually becoming something. Seeing those three calendars reminded me that I am only rookie. It might do me some good every now and then to be quiet about what I know and have learned and just listen to those who have a little more experience than I have. This was the humble pie that I had more breakfast this morning.

On a funny note about calendars, this year was Ron's turn to pick ours out. I will enclose a picture of our fourth calender. The one hanging on the wall in our living room right now.



Yes, those are guns. And, no, I never would have agreed to this in 2005. I can't even imagine what the relaxing effect of time and the sanctifying effect of marriage will have me hanging on my walls should God be pleased to give us fifty or so more years.

If Mama Ain't Happy

I have always kinda hated the saying, "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." It evokes for me the image of a demanding, hard to please woman whose emotions tyrannically rule those around her. The kind of woman I never want to be. The kind of woman I know I could very easily become if I am not careful and apart from the grace of God. Lately, however I have come to understand the profound truth in that statement. I have also come to understand that really need not be an admonition to those around mama, but to mama herself.

This realization came a couple of weeks ago when my husband came home from work and made this remark, "You seem to be in good spirits!" He said it with a small measure of surprise and no small measure of joy on his face. At first I was a little puzzled. Was this such a strange occurrence? Am I not usually in "good spirits?" Before I opened my mouth to ask I thought about the previous few weeks.

To start off I was in my first trimester of pregnancy. I have not proven myself to be a real trooper (i.e. silent sufferer) when it comes to pregnancy. Secondly, this pregnancy seemed to be doing a real bang up job on my emotions, not just my tummy and my energy like last time. Thirdly, I had been pretty sick and then so had my baby. And lastly, my previously very easy going baby had entered a little fussy phase just as I had entered my weakened state. So yeah, while I would like to believe I hadn't been downright grumpy, I could concede that perhaps it had been a while since my husband had come home to find me in actual good spirits.

What was of such great interest to me was how delightfully happy he was to find me in that state. It was very curious to me. I just locked this little observation away in my heart. In the weeks that followed I began to see this was a trend. The happier I was the happier he was - the more we seemed to enjoy each other's company and the more smoothly we sailed through the little things that came our way. The gloomier I became the more sullen he became. Things became harder for both of us. I then started noticing that the same was true with my baby. When I was having a joyful day, she seemed to have a joyful day right along with me. The more tense and overwhelmed and unhappy my behavior was, the less consolable she was. I began to realize the kindest and most loving and outright best thing I can do for my family, for those I love most, and for those who love me most, is to choose joy. Just be happy. Look at the sunny side and be grateful. I couldn't believe such a small thing could have such an impact on our home. But it really did. More than a vacuumed rug, more than a delicious new recipe, more than everything being in place. Just a light-hearted, merry spirit.

That is when I remembered the old saying, "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!" And no one can be responsible for mama's happiness, but mama. I have a long ways to go to totally apply this principle to my life, but I am very excited about it. What could be a more pleasant goal than learning to be happy more regularly. I am not going to resort to fake happiness, because as I have been learning, it not only isn't fruitful, it isn't necessary. As a Christian, no matter how bad things get, there is always something to be thankful for, something to really and truly smile about. That is the gift I am going to work to give my family this year. My smile.

Life Is Only as Boring as the Person Who Lives It

When I left my job as a bank teller to begin my career as a home-based wife and mother three weeks before our first daughter was born, I was inundated with concerns about my being bored. Upon hearing my plans to leave the work world for the home world people from as many different demographics as you can think of would respond with one form or another of the same question, "Do you think you will be bored?" I would fashion a polite response each time, appropriately crafted for the particular asker, but my heart's silent answer was the same every time. "Are you out of your mind?! Why on earth would I be bored?" I could think of nothing more exciting (not boring) than being free of the necessity of being employed. Never having been career oriented, work for me was never thrilling, always a little oppressive, and at its very best bearable. Being home equaled freedom in my eyes and one thing I knew was that freedom wasn't boring.

Those first three weeks at home I proved myself right. I had plenty to do. Clean my house like I had always wanted, run errands during business hours, read a book, sit down and get off of my nine months pregnant feet, whatever came to mind. I was not bored. I had no employer to make demands on my time and I was doing what I wanted to from moment to moment. I was not bored at all.

Though I was thoroughly enjoying myself those three weeks passed slowly, as I suppose all weeks in the ninth month of pregnancy do. I remember thinking often, if I have so much to do now and am having such a good time imagine how much better it will be when we add a baby to the mix. I couldn't wait. And when I had waited longer than I thought I could, she came. After twenty-nine hours of labor, two failed epidurals, and a superbly executed C-section, Ron was handed (my arms were numb and unable to move) the most beautiful baby we had ever seen - our daughter Afton Adele.

We loved her instantly and forever at the same time. She was glorious, looking up at us with a very put out expression on her face. Nothing was ever going to be the same. We stayed at the hospital a few days, took her home, entertained a myriad of doting family members, and had our lives spin wildly, deliriously, but very happily out of control. Then the visitors left, we got used to the idea that we were solely responsible for the care of this darling little girl, we grew in confidence, and we fell from the chaos down into a steady routine. Our lives returned to some form of normalcy, though not the normalcy we had previously known. It was a new normal, but it was normal nonetheless.

It was not long after this return to normalcy that something startling happened. I sat on my couch one day rocking Afton back in forth on my legs in a position we have come to call "leg cradle". I looked around my silent house and looked down at my beautiful daughter, whom I loved so much, but who was too young yet to respond to me in any way but to cry if I put her down and moved on to another activity. Suddenly I recognized a feeling that had been with me for a couple of days. I couldn't believe it. I was bored. How could this be? I was so disappointed to acknowledge that that ignoble slug boredom was inching its way into my heart. How could I be bored doing exactly what I had always wanted to do? Then, with that question, it clicked. It was a matter of perspective, as many things are.

In the small details of life I was no longer doing exactly what I wanted to do. I had a brand new little girl, with a brand new little soul, and I was the one God had chosen to meet her every need. Meeting a brand new little girl's every need meant a lot of the little things I wanted to do had to wait....and sometimes wait and wait. It meant sometimes pacing back and forth across a room over and over again to calm my baby. It meant an awful of leg cradle. As hard and painful as it is for this adoring mother to admit it is true. Pacing gets.....boring. Leg cradle is.....boring. Being at home alone all day with an unresponsive newborn can be.....boring.

But that is when you are looking at all the tiny, tiny pixels of the big picture. And what of the big picture itself? Ahh, in that picture, during those quiet moments of leg cradle and the many others like them, I was then, more than I ever had before, doing exactly what I had always wanted. I was raising the darling child who was born out of the love I share with a righteous and good man, the kindest and best I have ever known. Just writing that sentence infused my soul with exhilaration, which as you must know, is an opposite of boredom. And having that realization those many weeks ago had the same effect.

Sure leg cradle might not have been exactly what I wanted to do at the time, but it was exactly what I wanted to do at the time. Read that sentence again. You'll get it. It's, just like I said, a matter of perspective. So from that moment on, when the day to day tasks of caring for my daughter (who has grown into a fun and friendly three month old now) start to feel a bit dull and cumbersome, I remind myself, "Hey, this is exactly what you want to be doing!" Then I smile at the truth in that statement and carry on in joy.

On a practical note, I have also realized there is nothing wrong with catching up on a little Matlock during leg cradle. It's the little things that'll get you through the little things that make those big things you dream of possible.