Cookbooks

Tonight while I was doing shopping lists and menus for the week, I was reminded why I keep so many cookbooks. I have three that are my usual go-to cookbooks. But sometimes I look through them and nothing looks good.

That's when I pull out the other books. Sometimes I use their recipes. Sometimes they remind me of other recipes or give me ideas of how to alter old favorites. Sometimes I just look at the pictures and still can't figure out what to make, but at least it is more enjoyable.

I have some cooking magazines, several dessert books, several church/school cookbooks, a French cookbook, a Belgian cookbook, an Indian cookbook, and three or four Southern cookbooks. I also have a folder full of recipes and recipe cards, as well as a box of recipes from my great aunt.

In my collection, there are also a few mixed drink books, but they are my husband's.

I have been thinking about getting rid of some of them. But tonight they proved so helpful I am rethinking that. Maybe someday I should just write my own cookbook, compiling my favorites and then I can get rid of all the rest... Or maybe I should memorize my most commonly used recipes and get rid of those books...

Or maybe I will keep them all for inspiration.

Sabbath Silence

Be still my soul.
Let the silence fill you,
Calm your frenzied inefficient attempt at chores.
Listen again to the words you know.
Rest your head.
Breathe.

"Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

10 Years Ago, Part 1

Ten years can seem like a long time. Various memories from 10 years ago have recently resurfaced. Some are happy, some are embarrassing, some are enlightening, some are simply mundane. In fact it was something as mundane as stirring hot chocolate that started this train of reminiscing.

Ten years ago, I was beginning the best semester of my college career. It happened to follow the worst semester, which only made it better. The previous semester I had four class, all of which I disliked. Two because of how they were taught, two because of the professors. I don't remember much from the classes by the professors I didn't really like, and remember nothing from one of the other classes. The final class was a Shakespeare class and it was a bright spot in my life at the time.

During that semester I also did lots of research into what schools I could student teach at. The department head had just switched, so all the work I had done previously had to be redone, from making a proposal to student teach, to suggesting which schools I would like to go to. I several I ruled out, several they ruled out, and finally we agreed on two schools for 7 weeks. One was a classical Christian school, the other was a private church school.

My family contacted friends we had near both of those schools and I was able to stay with people I was acquainted with, for minimal cost. I was able to use one of my parents' cars. I had to, and was able to, act like a grown up. In these positions, I knew the thrill and tedium of teaching. I felt like I was doing something I was good at, but also that I had lots to learn. I love the people I lived with and the people I worked with and the kids I was teaching. This semester I knew a freedom and love and acceptance that I had not felt in college. And it was wonderful.

(to be continued)

Sleep

I like to sleep. I like relaxing into my bed and feeling its soft firmness under me. I like feeling the weight of cozy blankets covering me. I like drifting into thoughtlessness but letting my brain show me what it thinks about. I like dreaming. And I don' tike waking up. I like to sleep.

But tonight, as I sat with my little boy, listening to him breath quietly, but not quite asleep, and as I thought about last night being awake with a littler boy, I had a strange wish. I wished that I didn't need to sleep. I wished that I could be awake and hold my child's hand when he started to whimper in the night. I wished that I could just watch him sleep and dream. I wished that exhaustion didn't overcome me, and I could cuddle and rock and comfort my baby all night long.

And it wouldn't just be caring for the boys. Think of all the things I could get done if I didn't need to sleep. I could get all my chores done during the night so I could devote more time to the boys during the day. I could work on creative projects without as many interruptions. I could clean, sew, organize, etc.

But I do need to sleep. Try as I might, I can't go many nights without getting a decent amour of sleep. My brain and body revolt and functioning just stops. I can't do anything until I get some sleep.

So what does it mean that in heaven "there will be no night there"?

This is Hard

Writing every day this January has been a lot harder than it was last July. I don't know if I am really that much more busy or that much more sleep deprived, or just less motivated or more distracted.

Life has been busy. Several nights Malcolm has not fallen asleep until it is almost time for us to get to bed. I have done chores in the evening. There have been Sunday School lesson plans and working on other creative projects. During naps, I have either been napping too or trying to get the dishes done, the kitchen cleaned, the laundry folded or some other task. And writing (and pretty much anything not boy related) is basically impossible when the boys are awake. I know we are still recovering from our Georgia trip, and some days are better than others, but it does make for exhausted Mommy and no writing.

But perhaps I am less motivated too. Working on photos and videos has taken precedent. Getting caught up on blogs and news and videos is easier than trying to come up with things to say. Designing clothes and reading books is more relaxing after a busy day. So I haven't done as well this month, but I am writing more than I did in December, which is an improvement, and maybe I will be able to keep up a not everyday, but more frequent posting, for a longer time than just this month. Maybe.

Thankful Thursday

At our Ladies Night Out we talked about thankfulness. I have been thinking a lot about it since. There are lots of things I am thankful for - things like my husband and children, my warm house, my extended family, my friends, food - especially chocolate, etc. I could write about how wonderful anyone of those things are, but what struck me today was that all the things I could be thankful for have a flip side.

I love my children. But they have ruined my nights for the past 4 years. They break things. They can be nasty. They rip my books, mess up my computer, steal my keys, and whine and complain. Am I really thankful for them?

I love food, at least most food. Seafood, I could do without. But the yummiest food makes me fat or is unhealthy. And some food that is good for me, isn't my favorite or does uncomfortable things to my innards. Am I thankful for all my food?

I could do the same thing with all the things I am thankful for. And it would be easy to respond with, "Well, at least you have..." That is all true, but I think points out the weakness in many of our thoughts about thankfulness. And that in turn has pointed out weaknesses in my giving thanks.

Here are some scattered thoughts:
One, I don't do it. I mean, every night I thank God for my family, the day, what He helped me accomplish, etc, but I don't make a habit of thankfulness.
Two, when being thankful is the focus, the recipient of the thankfulness is sometimes diminished. Sometimes the gift distracts from the giver.
Three, when I give my kids something, and they are delighted with it, that fills my heart with the same delight, whether or not they thank me; but being thanked for it is extra beautiful. What if God delights in us in similar ways?
Four, thankfulness flows from a relationship with God - not a relationship based on what we deserve, but based on love for each other. That lets "gifts" be a expression of love for me. And shows that bad things are not punitive or necessarily "from God."
Five, all gifts can be misused and destroyed. They can be taken for granted. They can turn into disappointments when we expect them to be something they aren't.

Of course I am thankful for my children and for food. I am thankful for them because they are gifts from God. But I am also thankful for them because God has loved me so I can love and enjoy this world in all its richness and beauty. I am thankful for them because God is love, because God gives good gifts, because God desires a relationship with me enough to die for my sins, to rise from the dead, and to fill me with himself. That gift colors every other gift in beauty, and just as he covers my sins with his love, so I can give thanks even though life and people are far from perfect.

Story Wednesday

For previous story posts, follow this link.

Immediately he was surrounded by the SF, but he felt confused and numb. The patrol booth had emptied and most of the non-active patrols were there for support. When he saw Gonzalo hollow eyes, the commander ordered one of the SF to take Gonzalo’s place, and grabbed his face. “Focus Kid! What happened?”

Gonzalo was unable to speak; he shook his head, trying to clear the fog that surrounded the incident. He couldn’t remember, but as he looked back at the Ariel in his arms, pain shot through his head and shoulders. Where had he felt that before? Who was this?

All of the questions faded into the searing pain. He fought to gain control, focusing on the commander’s large mouth. It seemed to flop without sound. Again closed his eyes and shook his head. In the pain, flashed a face - the SF patrolling in front of him. Suddenly, his mind cleared, the pain disappeared, and he felt the adrenaline coursing through his system. 

The Binugs had deserted their tasks and were trying to figure out what had happened. “There.” Gonzalo pointed at the Binug who had thrown the rock. “Great. We’ll take care of that. You need to get back to the booth.” The commander glanced at the Ariel, still in Gonzalo’s arms. “Bring the body with you.” 

Resisting the urge to look at its face again, Gonzalo flew to the booth, escorted by quite a few SF. Once back in the booth, the commander showed Gonzalo where to lay the body, told him to rest until it was his patrol again, and left to tend to the ramifications of the disturbances. Although there were many SF around, Gonzalo had a few minutes alone. He closed his eyes, trying to remember, but couldn’t put his finger on even what he was to remember.

Oh, The Things That Happen

All was going smoothly. Dishes were washed. Boys were playing happily. It was time to fry up the 10  pounds of ground beef that was given to us. However, as it thawed in the fridge, it dripped blood all over the bottom shelf. No big deal, it just requires a little bit of cleaning...

So I got out the soapy water and began wiping down the fridge. This is a new fridge. The bottom shelf is glass and has two drawers below it. It is wonderfully designed so the blood didn't get into my produce at all and I was thrilled. Malcolm snuck in and began playing in the soapy water. I hadn't rinsed my sponge yet, so I told him that he couldn't play in it after I rinsed the sponge. But every time I looked away, he tried to get more bubbles. I finally had him sit away from me, and he started to fuss.

Around this time I also couldn't figure out how to get the glass off the bottom shelf so I could clean under it. So I took out the entire bottom shelf  - plastic frame and glass. Since it was too large to fit in the sink, I took it upstairs to the bathtub. I came down, finished wiping down the inside of the fridge, changed the water and was going to clean the shelf in the tub before I did one more wipe down of the fridge - maybe wiping other shelves too. As I left the kitchen, I noticed the boys were coming to investigate, but I said to myself, "A few soap bubbles around the kitchen won't be too bad. Let them play."

As I began to wipe down the shelf and its frame, the glass part of the shelf easily slipped out and I turned on the water to rinse it off. Somehow, I am not sure how, as I put the glass under the water, I also tapped it against the side of the tub and it instantly shattered into a million thousand pieces. I didn't know what to do, so I turned off the water and went downstairs to call Thomas.

But as I came down, there were the boys... Eamon was stripped down to his underpants, "My shirt and pants were wet." Malcolm was soaked, and they were dumping handfuls of toys into the soapy water. Without them understanding why, I finally put up a gate and locked them out of the kitchen. I called Thomas and began cleaning up the water. As I was on the phone, I realized that my hands were bleeding. One hand had been cut while washing dishes, the other had all sorts of pricks and minuscule cuts on three different fingers.

I don't know what the boys did for the next 20 minutes or so. I think they played swimming pool on the couch. I cleaned up the floor, tried to find a ShopVac to clean up the tub, called my mom, bandaged my fingers, and began cooking dinner and frying up the ground beef. When Thomas got home, the only evidences of the disaster were naked boys, bandaged hands, and shattered glass mixed with blood in the tub.

After supper, he got the boys ready for bed while I cleaned out the shower with a dust pan and brush. Then I kissed them all good-bye and left for a "Girls Night Out." It was very relaxing, but I realized this morning as everything I did caused my hands to hurt, that I hadn't quite recovered from the shock of the whole event. I think it may be awhile before I trust myself to hold anything glass.

Some of my favorite holiday photos

We celebrated Advent with candles and chocolates. But we also had a few other celebrations. On the Eve of St. Nicholas, the boys put their shoes by the door and in the morning received a Candy Cane from St. Nicholas and a piece of fruit from his horse. ("No Mommy. It was really you, wasn't it?" "Yes, Eamon, it was really me." "I thought so. You know I like Candy Canes.")

But, of course, daily life had to go on. On this particular day, Malcolm was crying pretty much all the time and Eamon was helping. ("I was getting the clothes, Mommy. You should throw the clothes on my head and I will put them in.")

I tried to get a Christmas picture or video or something of the boys in front of our tree, but this was the best I got and the coloring lasted 15 seconds. But we had a nice little tree and the boys liked it. Meaning they liked the tree... not sitting still or getting their picture taken.

We went to Geogia, where it was much warmer. This was the easiest trip we have made so far. Both boys loved being with their Grandmommy and aunts and uncle and dogs and toys and books...

Today, Eamon brought me a picture book and pointed to the drawing of a diving board and a pool. He said, "I want one of those. I really do." "But it is a little cold for one outside right now, isn't it, Eamon." "Yes, it is." By the way, he had no shirt on at this point in the day because he was playing swimming pool on the couch and his jeans were his swim trunks.

I made kilts for their Christmas outfit. And little flashes to hold up their socks. Eamon fluctuated between liking the kilt and disliking not being able to turn upside down. His original "kilt position" was with his legs spread apart and his arms up, as if making muscles. And until I added a pin, Malcolm loved his because he could pull it right off and run around half naked. He would pull it off, giggle, and run away. Now he thinks anytime he has no pants on that it is time to run away from Mom.

My Christmas Cookies

I have made gingerbread cookies and sugar cookies and chocolate crinkles and many other Christmas cookies, but my family's favorite is coated Oreos. This year I took it up a notch and got fancy with two different types of coated Oreos.

I love peanut butter on my Oreos. So I opened up a sleeve of cookies, spread peanut butter on top of the cream and put the lid back on before coating them in milk chocolate. It was delicious - like a crunchy Reese's Cup. Delightful!

My husband's favorite, however, is white chocolate coated Oreos with crushed candy canes sprinkled on top. It is that simple, but oh, so delicious.

This year I made them with Double Stuff Oreos, and with normal Oreos and we all decided that the Double Stuff was too much - too sweet, too mushy, too...something. The normal ones were better.

Mommy Game Continued

As I said, the previous post was satire, although I find myself playing the Mommy Game far too often. There are so many days when I want to quit, lock myself in the bathroom, feel like a failure, or long to sleep until they grow out of "this stage." I compare myself to other mothers, to my ideal, and to my own mother and come up short every time.

That is the nasty lie behind the game. You can't win. Every time you play, you will lose, because it is all based in lies and comparisons.

When I find myself tallying my points for the day, fretting over the outcome of my children, or just feeling like I am a mess-up, I remind myself (or someone reminds me) of these things.

• If your child knows that he is loved, he will be able to understand God's love.
• God can work in your child, in spite of you, as well as through you. Just because you fail, doesn't mean God will.
• Your child not turning out the way you plan/hope, does not mean that your efforts were in vain or that you are a failure.
• You are not in control of the choices your child makes. They are an individual before God. You get to help them understand that, not control them.
• IT IS NOT ABOUT ME! Parenting is not about making me look or feel good. It is about fostering relationships, with my children and helping them build relationships with God. And there, I can lead the way, but I cannot make them have a relationship with God. That is their choice and what they choose is not necessarily a reflection of my parenting.
• Love them. Listen to them. Let them love you. Be present.
• Remember God loves you and is your Father. Listen to the way he "parents" you.

These are my reminders. I am writing them down so I can read them again on another rough day. And I am sure there are others reminders that I need to hear. Feel free to share them because it seems that all parents struggle with playing some version of the Mommy Game and we all need reminders of the Truth to tell ourselves when surrounded by the lies of comparisons.

The Mommy Game

This is written satirically in honor of the birth of a daughter to one of my friends. I sometimes find myself thinking in these ways, but I have several good friends who remind me, “Never Compare!”

Dear Friend,

Welcome to the Mommy Game. While it can be fun to watch and mock from the outside, it can be a cutthroat battle on the inside. It is based on a point system which determine your Mommy Ranking. Good Mommys get to feel good about themselves and be sure that their kids will turn out wonderfully, while Bad Mommys worry and fret knowing that the failure of their children is all their fault.

Points and categories are determined by your region and friends, but here are some examples.

• If your child sleeps through the night at 3 weeks you get 10 points. If it takes until 6 months, then you get 5. If they begin sleeping though the night by a year, you get three points, but if it takes longer than that, you don’t get any.
• If you nurse your child for 6 months, you get 3 points. If you nurse your child for a year you get 5 points. But if you nurse longer than 15 months or less than 6 months, you don’t get any.
• If you nurse in public with a cover, you get an extra point every time you do it. If you nurse uncovered you get 3 points for bravery, but if your child kicks off your cover, you don’t get any points.
• If you bottle feed and not care, but smile at the snide remarks sent your way, you can have a point.
• If your change your child’s diaper as soon as it is wet or poopy, then you get “New Mommy points” which let mothers of multiples metaphorically pat you on the head and talk about when they only had one. If you change the child’s diaper within 15 minutes, then you get 2 points. If you get your husband to change the diaper, you get 5 points. And if you get the child’s older sibling to change the diaper, especially if that sibling is under 6 and does it well, you get 7 points, because 7 is the perfect number.
• If you get to church on time, you get 2 points. If you get to church on time with the kids dressed nicely, you get 5 points. If your kids are dressed nicely but you are late, you get a point. But if you or your kids look like you have been through a whirlwind, you don’t get any points.
• In church, if your baby fusses slightly or talks a little, you get 2 points for cuteness. If they scream, you don’t get any. If a child older than a year makes any noise in church, you don’t get any points. But if they participate in singing or prayers, you get 5 points.
• You get a point for each child. Two points, if they make a profession of faith. Unless you have more than 4 children. Then you start getting a negative point per child, unless they profess faith. Then you can have a point for them.
• If you lose your baby weight in the first 3 months, you get 5 points. If you lose it in 6, you get 7. If it takes a year, you get asked if you are thinking about having another child, and if you answer yes, then you get a point. If you get pregnant again, before losing baby weight, you also get a point. If it takes longer than a year, but you do lose weight, you get 5 points. If you never lose the baby weight, you don’t get any points.
• If you eat organic, gluten-free or whole grains, or using some diet plan, you get 3 points per meal. If you make the meal from scratch, you get 2 points. If you eat a home using canned or processed food, you can have half a point, but if you eat out, especially at a fast food restaurant, then you get negative points based on the health rating of the meal.
• If your child eats the same food you eat from the time they starts solids you get 5 points. If they eat homemade baby food until they have enough teeth to eat table food, you get 4 points. If they eat store bought baby food, but transition smoothly to table food, you get 3 points. If they don’t transition easily, but they eat table food by the end of the first year, you get 2 points. If they don’t eat table food, but whatever you offer them, you get 1 point. If they are picky eaters and don’t eat anything you offer them, you don’t get any points.
• If other mothers ask for your advice, you get a point. If you tell them what you did and it works for them, you get two points and a Mommy friend, with whom you can talk all sorts of Mommy comparisons. If it doesn’t work, and you support the other Mommy in whatever choices she makes, you have a real friend, with whom you can talk about anything, but it doesn’t help your Mommy rating.
• Add your own categories and points based on your region and the parenting philosophy is most common among your circle of acquaintances and friends. It is sometimes helpful to include what parenting books advise.

Now the tricky thing about this game is no matter what you do, if someone criticizes you or your choices, you loose a point. If you feel uncertain about the choices you make, you loose a point. If you do things differently from your acquaintances, you loose a point. If you feel judged, inadequate, or like you are messing up your kids, you loose a point.

You should daily figure out your points, and every one else's points. Then based on how you compare, you can feel like a Good Mommy or a Bad Mommy. If you are a Good Mommy, based on this scale, then you can expect your child to be happy, healthy, productive, and fulfilled. However, if you are a Bad Mommy, you can be sure that your child will be on drugs, in an alternate lifestyle, or in jail by the time they are 18.

Good Luck!

Rosalind

P.S. Call anytime with questions. I need to improve my Mommy Ranking.

January 100 Words

I wanted the month of January to be another 100 Words month. But I only got home from Christmas vacation yesterday, so my month will start today.

Today I am listening to Straight No Chaser (a Christmas present) with Malcolm smiling beside me, eating goldfish leftover from lunch, and occasionally feeding them to me. Eamon is sleeping in his bed now, but when I got out of the shower, he was curled up outside the bathroom door.

Today I was thinking about how I need to take time out from what needs to get done and just enjoy being with the boys - reading to them, playing with them, watching them play. Last night I made lists and lists of things to do, some of them things that really do need to get done. This morning I woke up with no energy. But I had my lists. So I got everyone dressed and changed the sheets. And everyone was cranky, so we got ready for an early lunch and naps. And this afternoon, after Malcolm woke up, I have just been enjoying his company.

Soon I will need to stop and put in some laundry and wash some dishes before sweeping up the kitchen floor, but I need to go and pay attention to some boys.