When you're done with the donuts

Make sure you lick the plate.

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I'm guest posting over at Chic Critique again today, head over and check it out!

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191

Timestamp: 2008-10-31 12:36:01 UTC

Congratulations, Kristan!

SS Notes, Take Two

This past Sunday was our last week of looking at the parable of the prodigal son during Sunday school. We’ve already studied the prodigal himself, spent a week talking about the older brother, and then for this class we focused on the father.

One of the things our teacher started out by saying was if we remember anything from the study, let it be that as Christians, we are all called to be like the father, and our sanctification is to that end.

Fleshing it out:

• At the beginning of the story, the father gave that to the son which he did not deserve (at least yet); knowing the son would most likely squander everything
• DID NOT WITHOLD RESOURCES BUT GAVE FREELY, EVEN TO THE UNDESERVING
• He did not try to use wisdom or logic to try to persuade his son to say; did not try to change his son’s mind
• Did not go after him; he let him go (and “manhandling” someone often breeds further rebelliousness)
• Watched the son leave knowing his love wasn’t enough to make the son stay, hoping it would be enough to bring him back
• He hoped and watched every single day for his son’s return -- not knowing if he would ever come back
• He waited patiently; he did not go after his son
• He was there watching when the son came back; saw him from a far off
• Side note: OUR HOPE IS NOT IN THE ONE WHO HAS GONE TO THE FAR COUNTRY; RATHER OUR HOPE IS IN OUR HEAVENLY FATHER
• When the son returned, the father RAN to the son; his love and forgiveness was apparent and overflowing
• He did not make the son grovel
• He did not make the son do penitence
• He threw a party, sparing no expense (and the father’s own celebration was more poignant because he had experienced that extreme pain in hoping and waiting)
  

(Another side note: So why don’t we all just become prodigals and experience the father’s love in such a meaningful way? For one thing, we would not experience the father’s faithfulness every single day – the older brother saw that and was blessed in it.

He saw his father go out and meet each new day, whispering “out there” his love for his younger son. The older brother was himself the beneficiary of all that his father had – every single day. “All that I have is yours.” Always.)

What we do each day matters: we love, we forgive, we wait... and we hope.

Sneaking-in a Superfood (spinach)

Lately I've been trying to get Adelaide to eat fresh spinach and the best way I've found is to whip it through my food processor with some water and add it into her food. Putting it in spaghetti sauce is super easy because the spinach looks a lot like the other herbs and you can hardly taste the difference.

Cooked spinach is stringy and has a distinct flavor that is hard to sneak past children (and older babies in particular). My older kids will eat fresh spinach like lettuce, but Adelaide is slightly prone to choking on it.

I put a bunch of fresh leaves in my processor and pour in a little water and turn it on:


It looks about like this when done:


Paste it on (shown with vegetarian refried beans) and hide it under some fresh salsa or pico:


Although not vegan, sometimes we add cheese:


How I usually serve this dish, folded over and cut into a more manageable size:


(Sometimes I'll just make a bowl of the pureed spinach/beans/salsa/cheese and just give that to Adelaide with a spoon and she LOVES it.)

I use very mild (but fresh!) salsa, by the way. Try it out, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised!

Works for me!!

WonderGirl on Halloween

[Originally published by WonderGirl on October 31, 2007. Reprinted here with permission.]

Taking Back Halloween

Hello, my name is WonderGirl, I'm a Christian, and I take my children trick or treating.

Why? CANDY! And dressing up in fun costumes. And carving pumpkins into silly faces. And scary corn mazes. Did I mention the candy?

But it's more than that. I feel led to celebrate Halloween. I'll explain.

I'm tempted to just link to some other people who have given such good explanations about why Christians can (and mayhaps should) celebrate Halloween. But that seems like cheating in some way, so I'll give you the long and short of why WE celebrate, with liberal use of exerpts here and there that say it better than I can.

There are SO many misconceptions about the origins of Halloween. I won't go into them all, because that's been done quite a bit. You can read a good synopsis here. Suffice it to say, most of what the secular world thinks about Halloween is just out and out false historically.

Halloween is "All Hallows’ Eve". It is the day before All Saints Day, which is November 1. Jim Jordan gives a good run down of All Saint's Day (HT to Rich for this link): "It is the celebration of the victory of the saints in union with Christ. The observance of various celebrations of All Saints arose in the late 300s, and these were united and fixed on November 1 in the late 700s. The origin of All Saints Day and of All Saints Eve in Mediterranean Christianity had nothing to do with Celtic Druidism or the Church’s fight against Druidism (assuming there ever even was any such thing as Druidism, which is actually a myth concocted in the 19th century by neo-pagans)."

It is not "the devil's day". It is actually the very opposite. Satan has been thwarted, Christ has won the victory, and this is a day of celebration! We remember those saints that have gone on before us, and laugh at the defeat of our enemy. More from Jim Jordan: "This is why the custom arose of portraying Satan in a ridiculous red suit with horns and a tail. Nobody thinks the devil really looks like this; the Bible teaches that he is the fallen Arch-Cherub. Rather, the idea is to ridicule him because he has lost the battle with Jesus and he no longer has power over us."

Halloween is a day of mockery. It reduces the power of Satan to plastic fangs and fake blood... it is a day when the ghoulish and ghastly are really nothing more than peeled grapes in a bowl, cold cooked spaghetti. It is a day when someone says, "BOO!" and we laugh.

So, we've got this holiday that we've relinquished culturally over the years. The meaning of the day is convoluted. So what to do about that? Reclaim it. Don't be afraid of it. What have we to fear? Spooks have no power over the name of Jesus Christ! Laugh at the futile, pitiful attempts of the Fallen. Don't cower in your house, with the lights off, warding off the evil of trick or treaters.

Brandy says it so well on her blog: "We are to be missional Christians. What kind of message does it send to the world we are supposed to be reaching, especially the kids, when they find a dark porch with no candy or a note that says "We don't participate in this holiday." How much better would it be if, in the midst of such a dark night, we had the brightest house on the block, decorated with tons of white lights. We could hand out the BEST candy! Full sized candy bars. And, if you have time to spare, make cool wrappers to tape around that say, "Taste and see that the Lord is good! Psalm 34:8." That is one night that we have a unique opportunity. When kids from non-Christian families in our neighborhood come to our house year after year, hopefully they will remember the Christians as the most generous, the most joyous, the least fearful."

I love that!

Are there elements of Halloween that we should be careful of? Well, naturally. The Bible is pretty clear on avoiding evil and embracing righteousness. But we are salt and light, as much on October 31st as any other day of the year. We shouldn't give that day away because we are afraid. Dennis Ruport says, "While Christians should absolutely avoid pagan practices, Christian hype tends to make us overreact to benign folk elements of Halloween. We appear like zany buffoons to the world when there is no necessity for doing so. Furthermore, our groundless retreat from all elements of Halloween leaves a vacuum that wicked elements delight to fill."

So there you have it. That's why we celebrate Halloween.

(But mostly just the candy. Ha.)

PS: I am including our weekly pastoral letter in the extended entry for my own record keeping, and in case you are interested in reading a more detailed theological defense of Halloween. There's definitely a reason Rich gets the paycheck! It's great!

[Due to the length, I am not going to copy in that letter. You can find it here at her original post and scroll down.]

Bloggy Giveaways Carnival

This week is the Bloggy Giveaways Carnival and I'm going to be really mainstream and unoriginal and boring and give away a $10 giftcard to Starbucks.

That's like a free date!

And who doesn't love Starbucks?!

What? You want to see proof?


Woop, there it is!

How to enter: simply leave a comment on this post. Comments will remain open until Friday, Oct. 31, and then I will randomly draw a winner. Please make sure you leave your email so I can contact you for shipping information. US addresses only, please.

New here? Well don't be a stranger! Hie thee over to my right sidebar there and click ye the orange subscribe button - don't miss out!

And for more great giveaways this week, click over to the Bloggy Giveaways Quarterly Carnival!

MUST PASS ALONG!

I got this idea/recipe from Sarah's blog (In the Midst of It) and in case you don't read her, I'm going to pass it along. Because this is a recipe you want, trust me.

My sisters came over last night to do their laundry and so we tried these out and watched a movie. UnBELIEVEably quick and easy. And GOOOOOOD.

Homemade Donuts: Pop open a can of refrigerated biscuits. Poke a hole in the center of each biscuit (I used my Pampered Chef apple corer):


And then fry the donuts (and holes) in a few inches of oil (I use canola):


Flip over once (this takes less than a minute, make sure you don't go far!):


Drain on paper towels:


Roll in cinnamon & sugar:



Perfect for a Saturday morning or a Sunday evening at home. Best served still warm.

(You could also glaze them with a powdered-sugar glaze or frost them with chocolate icing.)

And I even did some laundry.

Ironically, the very morning after I posted about how late we wake up, our doorbell rang at 8:45 a.m. yesterday and we were all still asleep.

In my defense, it was very dark and rainy outside, a perfect day to sleep in. I stumbled to the door and peered out to find the roommate of a friend, asking for Andy; her car was right in front of our house with a flat tire.

I was half-asleep. I should have welcomed her inside. But it didn’t even cross my groggy consciousness to do anything besides go get Andy and crawl back under the warm covers.

He threw on some clothes and a fleece and went and rescued the damsel in distress. Or at least got her car functioning again.

I had really wanted to go on a family outing yesterday and so later in the morning, we all went to the kids’ museum. It’s really fun to go with Andy because he can take Drew and Madeline around to all the older exhibits and I can chase Adelaide around the more basic stuff.

And he has fun playing with them. And I have fun watching that.

Since it was raining, we decided to stay and eat lunch in their cafeteria. (Note to self, bring along a few side dishes. Because $.75 for six mandarin oranges is a bit steep.)

Last night Nicky and the boys came over to eat and spend the evening fighting over toys and watching Mary Poppins. Steve’s still out of town, and Andy works nights, so it was a perfect opportunity to get together.

But really, who can refuse free dinner, cookies, tea, and popcorn?

As if I needed another excuse to go shopping

I’m a little bit notorious for hitting the snooze button. Like, for hours on end. And having no recollection of it whatsoever.

(Or, as my college housemates can attest, not hitting it at all. An hour of a beeping alarm and still no remembrance of anything.)

You may remember the Andy-almost-missing-his-shuttle-to-Nashville incident? Ahem.

Well, somehow, I managed to wake up this morning at precisely 9 a.m.

Drew’s preschool begins at 9 a.m.

Yeah.

(At least it’s only preschool and not, say, third grade.)

Anyway, so we scurried around and Andy got him out the door as fast as humanly possible. The teachers were still, unbelievably, taking kids from the carpool line, so he didn’t even have to get out and walk Drew in.

The teacher commented that Drew was 'late' for him, and that he’s usually one of the first there.

Which, if you know us, is really quite astonishing.

The girls and I had a playdate and lunch with some other friends while he was cramming his head full of the letter H. And we even managed to remember to leave their house in time to pick him up.

I dropped the kids off to Andy at home and quickly drove back to Target because when my sister and I were there with the kids last night, Madeline left her beloved pink monkey somewhere in the children's section. And I, being the loving and doting mother that I am, had promised her I’d go pick it up today.

And so I did.

An Afternoon with Adelaide

The other day I snapped some pictures of Adelaide and some of them turned out pretty cute. I thought I'd share some of my favorites.

The First Gust of Wind

See?!


I kid you not, I walked back into the kitchen after finishing my swag bag post and immediately saw that. I called for Andy; we looked at each other and bust out laughing.

What can I say? We're easily entertained.

The Swag Bag

“Mommy? Did you go to Nashbille? To a confwence?”

I snuck out while it was still dark Saturday and spent the day with the lovely ladies of Blissfully Domestic at their first (annual?) conference about – get this – blogging. It was sponsored by Epson and the One2One Network who are clearly awesome.


Purposefully smallish, very fun. A boatload of information, mostly useful. I realized, however, I care nothing about blog surfers and cold site hits. I just don’t. I blog because it’s fun and I can connect with a broader range of people and, most importantly, friends.

I took almost no pictures, which is very unlike me. But honestly? The only one I regret not taking is a picture of The Nester’s shoes. Because they were divine.

And it seems completely silly to just drop a bunch of names, but since I know some of you are truly interested, the panel speakers were Mrs. Fussypants, Karla @ Looking Towards Heaven, Robin of Pensieve, SimpleMom, Megan of Velveteen Mind, BusyMom, Sarcastic Mom, Jennifer of Playgroups Are No Place For Children and The Nester @ The Nesting Place.

The keynote speaker was professional blogger Lynn Terry, who was so personable and enjoyable and just real. I spent most of my day sitting next to Jenny of Mommin’ It Up! and she was delightful.

I know this is a terrible picture, but at least you can get a feel for what the room was like. (It was a cocktail lounge in the Hotel Preston. And as you can see, it was too dark in there for great pictures w/out a flash.)


After the sessions were over, we had a cocktail party and were served Blisstinis (totally girly drinks that looked suspiciously like spiked Kool-aid). I had planned to stay for dinner but just felt too unbelievably tired and decided to drive on home.

(Although, if I knew the state of my house upon arrival, I probably would have moved to Japan.)

And lastly, introducing The Swag Bag:


A hilarious collection of random toys, books, cds, usefuls, samples, mints, a mouse pad, and photo/print paper:


Oh and a Republican-themed Cahootie (I had no idea that’s what they're called):


The 'toys' were a 1983-original-collection My Little Pony set (which, not surprisingly, Madeline commandeered almost immediately), the tiniest heart-stamped rubber duckies you ever saw, and this Calico Critters set with the tiniest pieces of fake candy Adelaide’s sure to choke on.

But really, doesn't this bring back memories?



Totally stationary, completely top-heavy, and sure to topple over at the first gust of wind.

Just imagine a fitting title, how 'bout that?

I wasn’t planning on blogging today because I have a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow (like get an oil change, figure out what to throw on in the wee hours of the morning before I head to Nashville, charge my camera batteries, wipe the grime off my laptop screen – you know, the essentials) but in light of Jo-Lynne’s post on commenting, I thought I’d add in my two cents.

(I had a similar post drafted but wondered if it sounded too whiny -- and Lord knows we hear enough of that -- and subsequently deleted it.)

So, first of all, I want to thank Mer and MK and (more recently) Trina and Tiff for being some of my most faithful commenters. You guys have made my day more times than you know.

Blogging is about community, relationships. I’ve met some amazing friends though blogging that I would never have otherwise. It’s such a blessing to a stay-at-home-mama, to be able to connect with friends in the midst of changing diapers and wiping noses.

An yes, it’s cheaper than therapy.

All that to say, it’s hard not to feel frustrated when I see (via sitemeter) that 200+ people stop, read a post, and then leave without uttering a thing in return. To be quite honest, as a blogger it’s hard not to judge a post by its comments. (Anyone else feel that way?)

(And yes, you lurkers are more than welcome to lurk and never comment – that is totally fine and up to you. That’s not really my issue here.)

I just want to encourage those so inclined to not feel intimidated by leaving comments – both on other blogs and mine. They really do make a blogger’s day. Even if it’s the 100th comment (which has never happened in this history of this particular site, just so you know), each one is read by the author and treasured.

I just personally think I have the quietest readers on the planet. :)

And feel free to tell me your kids' funny words

After we ate tonight I was having a little chat with Madeline in the backyard. She’s getting pretty good at these utterly hilarious monologues. I really ought to catch one on video.

Anyway, one of the things she kept saying was “he has a badegg” and I finally realized she meant ‘headache.’ (She pronounces the word 'egg' as 'aay-g' so in her mind it does sound like 'ache.')

She was talking about her stuffed dog, by the way.

Drew’s got a couple of wrong word usages himself. This morning I asked if he wanted his shoes on and he said “no, I’ll just nuse my feet for now, Mama.”

And both of them say “nemember?”

It’s a bit too cute for me to correct.

For now.

And we even had free tickets

Last night Nicky and I went to Andy’s first choral concert of the season. My sisters watched my kids and Steve watched her older boys. She brought newborn Sebastien with us.

Apparently he’s an explosively gassy baby. And about halfway through the concert he stared making rather suspicious-sounding grunts and gestures.

Honestly, I almost wish he would have relieved himself because that would have provided me with some excellent bloggy fodder. But alas, he did not deliver.

(I’m sure his mother was thankful. As well as the concert patrons around us, though they weren’t quite aware of it.)

The concert was great; really a lot of fun. All of the selections were based on Shakespearean plays (hence the title “Shakespeare and Friends”). Andy even had a solo, which I didn’t realize until afterwards when he asked me how it went.

Observant Wife of the Year.

We stopped at the restaurant for dessert on the way home. I had the carrot cake soufflé, possibly the most interesting and fabulous dessert I’ve ever had.

Oh, and I also met a long-time customer named Adelaide. I’ve never actually met anyone in person with that name – except, of course, my baby.

And speaking of my babies, Andy’s currently got all of them at the park, so I’ve got to get busy putting away the summer clothes so that we can actually walk down our hallway.

Which would really be convenient, wouldn’t it?

Morning, Noon, and Night

This morning I played Poop Patrol, thanks to Adelaide, which involved lots of paper towels, cleaning spray, sponges and carpet cleaner. I’ll leave out all the other details.

(You’re welcome.)

Right after that we had Bath Fest ’08, with the resulting Drowning of the Bathroom. It’s the new fad for cleaning bathrooms didn’t you know – just let three kids take a bath together. Afterwards, wipe down walls and other fixtures and mop floor. No bucket necessary.

Andy went and picked my mom up from Aunt Collyn’s and then we (meaning my mom and I) took the kids to the museum for a bit. I always find it’s nice to get out of the house after a crazy morning even just to clear my head.

(And they can’t mess anything up if they’re not home, see.)

This afternoon I had to take my parents to the shuttle company drop-off, so they could catch their ride to the airport. I was sad to see them go and even teared up driving away. I’m not an emotional person, either, so that means something.

(Mom – THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for all your help and hard work. You are the best.)

And then tonight I took the kids to the park, but unfortunately Adelaide picked a few questionable berries on the way down and had squished one before I could brush them away. Whatever they were, the juice apparently stings and itches like the dickens.

She screamed the whole time, rubbing her palms on her teeth, they itched so bad. So, needless to say, we went home early.

I bathed her, scrubbed her hands as best as I could, rubbed them with topical Benadryl (okay, it was the Walmart brand), gave her a children’s allergy tablet, along wither her blanket and a bottle, and she finally calmed down. She’s currently asleep – what a relief.

Now, where’s that proverbial glass of wine?

Going.

I can seriously hardly wait.

It's long, but bear with me

This is not a “preachy” blog. Those just aren’t my gifts. (And, to be quite honest, I tend to avoid most of them because they feel 'plastic-y' to me. Well, except for a few out there like Femina... I truly appreciate the wisdom and insight I gain there.)

Anyway, all that to say, I’m going to step out on a limb here and bend my little rule a bit. Because I’m still pondering something we talked about in Sunday School and it might sink in more if I write about it. And it struck me as downright fascinating.

We’ve been talking about the parable of the prodigal son found in Luke 15, both in worship and in SS. Today, our SS teacher read the passage about each of the sons – the prodigal and the older brother – and had us choose the one we related to the most.

Yeah. Hits where it hurts.

For easy reference, here is that part of the story:

Verse 11: “There was a man who had two sons. (12)The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them. [He’d mentioned before that that’s akin to telling the father, “I wish you were dead.”]

(13)"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. (14)After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. (15)So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

"When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! (18)I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. (19)I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.' (20)So he got up and went to his father.”

And then for the older son, beginning with verse 25: "Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. (26)So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. (27)'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'

(28)"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. (29)But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. (30)But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'”

Anyway, so our teacher read those bits about the sons, and then told us if we related more to the older brother, to come sit in the front row. And if we related more to the prodigal, to move to the back row, aka “the far off-country.”

Not surprisingly, the front row ended up being packed, while the back row only had a few stragglers. We talked about how the majority of the CHURCH is like the older brother – doing the “right” things, year after year... trying to be and do good. Loving rules, order, justice.

A few highlights of the discussion that followed: First, one of the things the 'older brother syndrome' breeds, but is very hard to detect in our own hearts, is envy. And he used a dictionary definition of feeling sorrow at another’s happiness. I.e., that younger brother didn’t deserve to be welcomed home and then celebrated over! The older brother's reaction was self-righteous anger and envy.

(He also brought up the parable of the vineyard owner who paid all the workers the same amount, regardless of what time of day they started working. The ‘older brother’ syndrome would be to get angry when the 11th-hour workers receive the same pay as those who had worked all day long. Jesus rebuked them for being angry that the vineyard owner was generous.)

The other thing we talked in depth about was the cycle of self-righteousness typical of the older brother. When they/we hit a “bump” where things don’t go well or as planned, the self-righteousness turns to self-reproach and then self-condemnation.

The key is – our the focus is always on self! Not on the generosity and love of the Father.

And then we did talk a bit about the prodigal son. We had discussed last week how he/they/we leave to go find value where it cannot be found (the ‘far off country’); it can only be had from the Father’s loving hand.

(I don't know about you, but I could come up with quite a long list of things I wrongly try to find (my) value in.)

Today we discussed how prodigals tend to be more empathetic with others and their sin. They've been there; they've hit bottom. They also can easily be suspicious of blessings received and skeptical of the Father’s generosity - because they know they don’t deserve it and how could that be?!

We older brothers, we don’t deserve it either.

We just think we do.

Coffee Drinks and Other Bloggy Business

As requested, what we did to make our version of Starbucks' Pumpkin Spiced Latte is this:

Brew some non-flavored coffee. I think the key is grinding it fresh. The other night we used decaf, but this is what I normally use during the day:


Next, add some of this dreaminess:


(Here is when my sisters add several heaping teaspoons of sugar. So you can do that, if you're so inclined.)

And then top it off with some of this:


And sprinkle with cinnamon:


And there you have it, a yummy fall treat!

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Recently from my friend, Mer:


Which is my first bloggy award, so thank you, sweet friend! I'll be passing that one along as soon as I narrow down my list-o-bloggy friends.

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Also, several times over the past months I've wanted to respond directly to various comments but couldn't. If you have a Google account/profile, all you need to do is check the box that says "show my email address" under Edit Profile and I, and others, will be able to respond to your comments directly via email instead of getting only the "noreply@blogger.com" nonsense.

If you don't want your regular email available (perhaps because it lists both your first and last name), consider creating an email account specifically for your total blogging experience. :)

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Gotta run, we've got a very full Saturday in front of us. Feel free to tell me what y'all are up to this fine day.

A Mother's Birthday, in Pictures

We took my mom out for her birthday last night. (We'd spent most of the day working around the house and running errands, and no one felt like changing out of jeans, so we picked a place that's not too fancy.)



(Yes, I know I look awful.)


My dad, being cheesy...


Brother and Sis-in-law:


After dinner, we came back to our house and made our own version of Starbucks' Pumpkin Spiced Latte:


(Excuse the spill. Ahem.)

And there were cupcakes:


And Nut Cups:


And Birthday Pie:



The end.

Walk Down Nursery Lane

So.

Kelly of Kelly's Korner is hosting the Nursery Tour '08, which is open all weekend.


Tonight I dug out my kids' baby books in order to participate and ohmyword, I had forgotten how fat Drew's cheeks were. Really something to behold.

Anyway, in the spirit of nursery displays, old and new alike, here are ours:

(This is the rental we lived in when we were first married. The walls were yellow so I felt obligated to pick a nursery theme that matched the walls but was still boyish. I found this one at Babies 'R' Us.)



When we got pregnant with Drew, we converted half of the guest room into his room, which is why this screen is up. It divided the space nicely. (Although once we had a baby in there, it ceased functioning as a proper guest room. Ahem.)


This is in our house, where we are now. We continued our tradition of putting the baby in the guest room, as you can see:


(Also, that antique cradle was mine when I was a baby. Drew slept in it, too.)

And, second child that she was, Madeline lived out of plastic bins for the first months of her life:


(Not that she was ever aware.)

And finally, our current nursery (previously featured during Boomama's Before & After carnival):


(That is the exact same "guest" room, pictured above. Looks different, doesn't it?!)

So there you have it, our nursery pasts and present.

Friends, my awesome mother, and the pie that would never end

My real-life friend Nicky had her baby via c-section (footling breech) oh, about two weeks ago. She obviously couldn’t do much of anything for the first several days and has become quite the pro at couch-sitting.

So I wasn’t surprised when she jumped at the chance to come over yesterday, even though that would mean, by default, six children in one very tiny living room. Her sister Darcee is in town to help her, and also came over.

We had tea and scones, which was perfect fare for a rainy morning.

But I noticed something.

My kids, especially Drew, find it extremely difficult to listen (and therefore obey) when people are over. Case in point: Drew wanted to jump from the coffee chest over to the couch. But the couch was already filled with Nicky and baby, me, and either one or both of my girls. NO ROOM.

I told him ‘no.’

He came over anyway, accidentally stepping on the new baby’s tiny leg. Nicky has THE MOST fortitude of any young mother I know – she hardly reacted at all, while my head almost exploded into a million pieces and my eyes flew out the window.

After they had gone and my kids had eaten their lunch, my parents returned from their little Atlanta and Huntsville trips. I LOVE it when my mom comes, and one of the reasons is she likes (who can believe it?!) to clean.

So I have possibly the sparkliest kitchen I’ve ever had, thanks to my mom and her servant heart.

Her birthday is today, and everyone who knows her well knows she loves pie more than cake. She mentioned making a pie – and at that instant my mouth started watering for a pie. Let’s make one for dinner tonight!!

I needed a fridge light bulb anyway, so while my kids were still napping I ran over to Walmart and got it and the stuff for a banana cream pie – my favorite.

I made two pie shells, she made them pretty, and then started to make the vanilla pudding. All I keep on hand is rice milk and not surprisingly, the pudding never thickened. We put it over the bananas and crust anyway, hoping it would gel in the fridge.

Yeah. Nope.

So we scraped out the pie guts into a colander, rinsed the shells with water and placed them back in the oven to dry out (genius idea!) and I went to the nearest grocery store to get regular milk and the Jell-O brand of pudding.

Because I was GOING to have that pie.

We had a nice dinner also with my sisters, mostly uneventful. Andy was already at work so I was sad he had to miss it. And then my mom proceeded to vacuum my whole house.

But I would love her even if she just sat on the couch.

Early Bird Gets the Worm

I realized something this morning.

It finally occurred to me that Madeline? …is a morning person. I don’t mean she wakes up early (although sometimes she does), but that when she wakes up, she’s happy and ready to talk.

(Very unlike the rest of us who need a slice of quiet – and perhaps a strong cup of coffee – to be even remotely chatty.)

I think she must get it from my mother. I distinctly remember hearing a story about how she would annoy her college roommates because she popped out of bed each morning ready for conversation. She said she had to learn to keep her early-morning comments to herself.

I somehow doubt Madeline will be learning that lesson any time soon.

For me, it honestly depends on how much sleep I got the night before. If I feel extremely tired, I probably won’t be in any mood to talk. But if I got restful sleep, I can chat along with the best of them.

Which makes me curious – do you consider yourself an early bird or a night owl?

(Or something in-between?)

Small Talk

My mother’s birthday is in a few days, so she and my dad came down after the wedding last weekend to celebrate it here and also to attend homecoming next weekend. Never mind that neither of them actually went to school here.

Sending four kids to college should automatically qualify you for alumni status.

Or at least a free tee-shirt.

My mom and I went to lunch today with several family friends (all ladies; we went to the tea room) and had a loverly time. My dad played “baseball” with the kids in the backyard, which of course they loooooooooved. I even saw Madeline whack the ball a few times.

And yes, her eye looks worse. We’re at the black n’ blue stage now.

Pretty quiet evening around here tonight, however, since my folks are in Atlanta for the evening and then Huntsville tomorrow. They’ll be back Wednesday and I have a long list for my mother and I to accomplish around this house while she’s here.

Such as taking a peek at my wedding dress which has been hanging in my closet all these years but really needing to be heirloomed instead. And I need to switch out my summer clothes and shoes before it starts getting cooler. And my kitchen is in need of a good organizing spree.

Have a happy Tuesday!

Play at your own risk

When my kids got up from their nap yesterday, there was general whining and all manner of crankiness. They wanted to go to the playground, which was really fine by me; fresh air and change of scenery never hurt anyone.

It was almost time for dinner – but thanks to their little counter cookie raid, no one was in danger of immediate starvation.

So we went. I had thrown on a grubby shirt and Madeline had found me some (unmatching) shoes. I figured we weren’t going to see anyone we knew, so it didn’t really matter and, due to the whining, I just wanted to get there fast.

We immediately saw people we know. Figures. I chatted with Janna a bit, but she and her hubby had family in town and so eventually she followed her in-laws and son over to another area of the park.

I was pushing Adelaide on the swing when suddenly I heard Madeline crying, loudly. Very loudly. And there was Craig, carrying Madeline down the steps toward me as she screamed.

(So, yes, the one time I don’t want anyone to take notice of us, we are naturally the front and center of attention.)

(In a very crowded playground.)

He said she had fallen and hit her eye – probably tripped on the step up to the slide. And I’m sure she was running because she never stops. Anyway, by the time I got to her, the eye was already huge.

He was so gracious and kind to carry my kids’ bikes all the way home. I mostly carried both girls, one of them screaming in my ear, the other trying forcefully to be let down.

I tried to get Madeline to ice it but have you ever tried to keep an ice pack on a three-year-old’s face, much less an eye, before?? High near impossible.

It doesn’t seem to bother her much today, and it probably looks much worse than it feels because she hasn’t said a thing about it.



Almost looks like she got into some of her mama's purple eyeshadow.

(If I owned any.)

Something about weddings and Saturdays

I have twenty-three first cousins. My mom was one of five, and my dad was one of four. I always had plenty of playmates at family reunions, Christmases, and summers in Colorado.

My cousin Caleb is getting married tonight. I debated for a long time if I should take the kids and go. It would have been a seven+ hour drive and I would have had to deal with the logistical nightmare of figuring out childcare (and a place to stay) in an unfamiliar city. By myself.

And gas, it ain’t cheap.

But I really wanted to go.

The other wrench in my plans was the bridal shower of one of my very best friends, planned also for this morning, the day of Caleb’s wedding. What to do?

In the end, I decided to stay here and go to the shower. I’m a bridesmaid, Madeline is the flower girl. (But I am so sad to be missing the wedding and seeing far-off family.)

A funny, sort-of related story. My cousin Caleb, Suzanne (the bridal shower honoree), and I are all the same age. We graduated from Covenant the same year. In fact, I think the three of us even had a class together.

(In which I may or may not have fantasized about them ending up together. Alas, it was clearly not meant to be.)

Anyway, one of Caleb’s infamous memories was missing our graduation ceremony. Long story, not mine to tell. Did I ever mention Andy and I got married on the same day as my graduation?

Andy and I got married on the same day as my graduation.

Crazy, yes. It seemed a great idea at the time. (And, really, I am glad we pulled it off). Suzanne, bless her soul, let my wedding day overshadow her college graduation day. She was obliged to be involved, too, being my MOH.

Anyway, so Caleb & friends didn’t make it to graduation, but they darn well made it to my wedding. It seemed only fitting I make it to his – except for the fact that I couldn’t, and one of the reasons was that I was fulfilling my duties as bridesmaid to Suzanne.

A sort of triangle of life.

Albeit an odd one.

Here are a few fun shower pics I took:




Apparently, Madeline thought my shoes were picture-worthy (I found this later):


Playing wedding:


The Bride and Flower Girl:


Suzanne and our friend, Kristine:


And finally, some college friends:


A beautiful day.

Ask the Interpeeps

We were the first of our circle of friends (meaning, in our age group) to have a third baby. Most of the other families now have three, or are about to.

Goodbye small car, hello minivan.

One such friend (her children can be seen in the pictures below) recently asked me if I had any tips on keeping a big family car clean. I.e. containers, organizers, general tricks of the trade...

(“If you saw the inside of my van, you would not be asking me advice on how to keep yours clean.”)

So I ask you, oh wise interpeeps, any suggestions?

And on a totally unrelated subject, I also had another request for a good recipe using roasted peppers. So feel free to throw recipes in for that, too.

Don't let us down.

Morning Fun at the Museum

While Drew was in preschool today, the girls and I met some friends at the children's museum.

The Addies:


(No, neither of us call them that. Adeline and Adelaide. One month apart.)

(Yes, I have permission to post all of these.)




Some Serious Bell Ringing:



The line up:


And all four are actually looking at the camera!

(A slight miracle.)

And now it's Wednesday already

Yesterday, mid morning, I got a call from a friend’s hubby asking if I could help her celebrate her thirty-first birthday by going out to dinner with her that very night.

I told him I couldn’t promise anything, but that I would try. I called my sisters, angels that they are, and explained the situation and that it was totally up to them to decide if they wanted to help me out with the kids, yet again.

They did.

Since Tuesdays are Andy’s day off, I ran the errands on my list while the kids were napping, without having to hurry home for him to leave for work. I also just got a free $10 gift card to Ann Taylor for ten of my friends signing up to Shop It To Me (shout out to Jo-Lynne for sending it to me in the first place).

So I did a little turn around Ann Taylor. Hey, I had a good excuse. Leave me alone. (And I even found a cute something.)

I was really at the mall to pick up Madeline’s three-year-old portraits I had done of her a few weeks ago. (Never mind that it was three months past her birthday. She’s still three.)

They turned out pretty cute, so real-life friends and grandparents, be warned. Also, I’m taking Adelaide on Friday.

After I had fed the kids and wrangled them into their pajamas, my sisters came over and I got myself ready. Andy sings in the local “professional?” choir and they rehearse on Tuesday nights – which is why he wasn’t going to be home to keep the kids.

We had a really nice dinner. Nicky and her mom came, with baby Seb (wink to Nick), and then the birthday girl and two other friends.

And since I know you’re dying to know (work with me here), I wore the shirt I had found on sale at Ann Taylor that afternoon.

Shop It To Me may just be my new BFF.