Peanut Butter in my Hair- Stories of Life, Love and Loss

Sibling Love {Simple Moments, Bigger Picture}

2012-02-10T11:10:00.003-06:00

It’s one thing to witness the pure baby love from your older children when you bring home a new baby. I mean who doesn’t love a new cuddly little baby.

It’s another thing to watch them continue to love on her when she is an almost walking, almost toddler who screeches and takes up a lot of mom and dads attention and patience.

Some of the sweetness to love this week:

Watching a little sister become a big sister through leading and guiding. We may have melted when she took her baby sister's hand and helped her walk across the room.

Mornings have been a bit rough around here do to lack of sleep, in fact just go read Heather because that’s many of my mornings (and it's something every mother/parent should read and take to heart). Yesterday however we slept 7 hours!!!! So the morning was going a bit smoother.

It started with big kid snuggles in my bed. Although nothing could convince them to call off school and stay there all day.

Than came morning cuddles and sweet calm nursing with a snugly, well rested baby. We had just finished and she was sitting in my lap cooing and just being cute when her door squeaks. We both turn to see some little hands reaching through the door. She immediately starts bouncing on her bottom, squealing and giggling with delight.

The door flies open and her big brother and sister fall into the room in a bundle of giggles and smiles. She completely explodes with happiness. Giggles! Squeals! Bouncing! They all collapse into a big giggling group hug and my heart simply explodes.

It’s one thing for us to show love and teach love to our children but to see that love and joy flowing from them on their own between each other? It’s magical and makes me wonder how you ever decide to stop having more children?

Live.

Simple, sweet sibling loev, that’s my Simple Moment, Bigger Picture this week. What’s yours?

Capture.

Link up yours at Undercover Mother this week.

Share.

Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog. Your post must link back here or have our button (found on the sidebar).

Encourage.

Try to visit the other participants and encourage each other in this journey we call life.

We are focusing on little moments of love this month. This week we are focusing on sweetness, what's your sweet moment of love this week?

A Sweet Life

2012-02-07T20:05:00.000-06:00

It sneaks up on you.

The sweetness of a life you never expected.

You find it in scribbles on the floor.

In fresh flowers adoring the table.

The little bits and pieces of your children’s hearts decorated and hung on the wall.

This time of year can be dreary and dark, for me especially.

I have two angels that show me sweetness everyday. One in heaven shinning through her eyes her with me and covering me in kisses.

So we hang heart on a banister.

We greet strangers and friends alike with a heart and love.

Perhaps a little extra sweetness to chase away the grey as it tries to sneak in.

And I keep looking, keep stretching my eyes to find all those little bits of sweetness that I might not see if I wasn’t looking.

A Day in the Life of Me

2012-02-06T00:30:00.000-06:00

I always love when Alita does her ten on ten photo days. I have wanted to participate for a long time but never actually know what day it is until the day is half over.

So this past Friday I broke out the camera and joined in Rebekah's A Day in the Life.

Here is a slice of my everyday. Click on the photo to see the full image or see them as a set at Flickr.

Favorite Vegetarian Meals {Savory Sunday}

2012-02-05T08:00:00.000-06:00

I mentioned yesterday that after six months on this meal challenge we are really embracing change and have been doing more vegetarian meals. These are our favorite dishes so far. Remember you can get all our recipes on the Update Our Meals Challenge Board.

I mentioned that my husband has become obsessed with curry, this spicy vegetable curry is his favorite. He eats it served on basmanti rice.

Easy Chickpea Curry

Source: marthastewart.com via Melissa on Pinterest

Which happens to be made with one of my favorite new recipes:

Cauliflower Steaks with Roasted Pepper and Tomato Salad

Source: marthastewart.com via Melissa on Pinterest

Everyone enjoyed this meal even my picky eater who calls it white broccoli. We served it over whole wheat couscous. We're looking forward to trying it again over the summer with veggies from our garden and doing it on the grill!

This soup was not a super flavorful soup, I think it needed more broth, but I really enjoyed it as did PBboy and PBbaby threw a temper tantrum when it was gone. We added the tortillas individually to the bowls so they wouldn't get soggy.

Tortilla Soup with Black Beans

Source: marthastewart.com via Melissa on Pinterest

The last one was a recipe we were sure would be a bust and actually turned out really good and everyone liked it was a roasted vegetable pot pie. I can't find the recipe online right now so I will have to get that posted another time.

Do you do a Meatless Monday or some other regular vegetarian night? What are your families favorites?

Meat and Potatoes to Vegitarian {Savory Saturday}

2012-02-04T13:36:00.001-06:00

I took quite a bit of flack over at Mamapedia when I posted over there about fixing our picky eater. Several of the commenter's told me I was wrong, and cruel and basically that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks that picky eaters were born and I should stop trying to change my daughter.

I want to address that with a big fat, Nope, uh-uh and sorry charlie but you actually can teach an old dog new tricks.

For one I am a reformed picky eater. I did not eat a fresh strawberry, a stalk of asparagus or spinach in any form until I was well into my twenties and met my husband. Kale (ad all cooked greens really) have been repulsive to me for years. Now? Spinach has for the last few years been one of my favorite veggies. Since starting this challenge I have a new found love for kale and collard greens. Sometimes the root of picky-ness is actually in how things are prepared. I still don’t care for cabbage but have had it in several recipes where it wasn’t bad. There is now just about nothing that I won't at least try. When as a child I wouldn't even eat white rice.

Example two: My husband is a meat and potatoes kind of guy. His motto is anything can be made better with bacon or pork. After our second week of detox we decided to throw the kids a bone and make them macaroni and cheese and a ham steak. He ate leftover spicy vegetable curry. In fact he has become obsessed with curry. After that night he said to me, "you know what I think I could do this vegetarian thing, not all the time but a lot of the time". Since then we have been having two vegetarian meals a week.

My meat and potatoes husband is enjoying being a vegetarian. He has learned to enjoy meals where meat is not the focus after 35 years of loving meat. If he can change, so can I, so can my daughter so can anyone*.

So how’s my picky eater doing? She is doing really well. She may not like everything but she will at least try everything we give her and we rarely, if ever have tears at dinner anymore. In fact the only fight we have had over dinner in the last month has really come out of exhaustion on all our parts and not entirely from a fight over food.

So stick with it parents! My family, me, my daughter and my meat and potatoes husband are proof that you can change your families eating habits.

Here are a few of my tips for what has worked for us:

Before you start commit to one month where you will not (WILL NOT) make any of the go to foods, for us it was macaroni and cheese. We made sure there was none in the house so we wouldn't be tempted to give up and we planned our meals accordingly.
Have at least two predictable nights where they know they will like the food. We do pizza on Saturday and chili on Sunday both nights she loves what she gets.
If possible modify. When recipes are hot and spicy we will generally leave the hot seasoning out until the end and pull out some for the kids and add more to ours. We don’t leave them without seasoning we just make it milder. Sometimes we will make an additional frozen vegetable if the only vegetable is say cabbage, which we know is hard for anyone other than my husband to get down.
Be consistent and don’t give in or fight. We had been fighting this battle for years. YEARS. and nothing changed until we (the parents did). We no longer got angry at the table, we did not beg, plead or bribe. We simply sated this is dinner, one bite of each is required or you can go to bed. End of story. It was the same every night no matter what. Sometimes that meant that my husband or myself would have to walk away from the table and cool down but the table because a peaceful no fighting zone.
Know that you are not going to scar them or ruin them by sending them to bed hungry. They will wake up and if they are under 4 have little to no memory of the day. They wake up ready to go, a new day a new slate. Don’t bring your frustration or anger form the previous meal to today's meal.
Work on one meal at a time. We only do dinner breakfast and lunch is always (ALWAYS) her choice.

Making family meals fun and nutritional for everyone is work, but we are almost sixth months into our journey and it has been an incredibly rewarding experience and we are all enjoying dinner time much more.

Come back tomorrow and I will share with you are {new} favorite vegetarian dishes!

*I am referring to children and people who do not have allergies or special needs in case that's not clear (which apparently at Mamapedia it wasn't) I would never force a child who had physically or mental difficulties or allergies to foods to eat things that are clearly upsetting them. My daughter does not have these issues she is just stubborn, like her mama.

Real Motherhood

2012-02-03T11:21:00.001-06:00

A real, tired, un-showered, un primped mother

What is real?

Look around your space how much of what you are looking at right now at this moment is real? I’m looking at beautiful watercolors of Venice and Florence. The paintings are of real places but they are art. An artist interpretation of what his eye saw.

There is a stack of magazines on the floor, newspapers, ads. They are filled with supposed “real” people. But they aren’t real. They have been styled, made up, airbrushed, posed. They have been turned into art by the photographer stylist, designer. They are real things presented as an interpretation of that persons idea of perfect yet they are sold to us as reality.

I want my daughters to know real.

Real beauty, real bodies.

We protect them from a lot. We don’t have cable. My women’s magazines are kept hidden and we don’t get Victoria’s Secret catalogs. They watch princess movies yes, but that is as far as Disney penetrates our house. There is no Glee, no High school Musical, no pop music. We are currently doing our best to keep Barbie at bay. We have been called prude told we are sheltering our children.

Shelter I will, for as long as I can for I want my daughters to know what Real beauty is, what real women look like.

That was my five minutes but I have more to say.

Casey is amazing. She is brave and beautiful and she bared her soul and belly over at Babble to help our girls, our society see that real women don’t strut down the cat walk weeks after having babies.

It's easy to beat ourselves up, especially as new first time moms. You don't see other's flaws only their perfections. We see snippets of moms and celebrities online, and they seem perfect. We compare our worse to their best. It's easy to believe that the painted picture of perfection is reality.

Reality is not perfect.

Reality is messy and broken and scratched and stretched, scared and healed.

This is reality

11.5 months postpartum

4 pregnancies

3 c-sections

1 umbilical hernia repair

That belly created beauty that surrounds me every day with little hands and hearts and sweet baby kisses. That my daughters will know that this is the reality of motherhood and it is beautiful .

Little Cupid {Simple Moments, Bigger Picture}

2012-02-02T11:22:00.000-06:00

She is our little lover.

She is out most empathetic child. She will cry when others are crying or yelling. In the church nursery I was holding a friend who is just a few weeks older than her. She was sad and missed her mommy ad was just sitting in my lap whimpering. My little PBbaby crawled over to her, tilted her head to the side in deep thought and then started kissing her cheeks.

Moments like that happen everyday, multiple times a day.

She will throw herself from your arms if her sister, or especially her brother, come into a room after being gone. She throws herself on them to hug and kiss them.

Stuffed animals found in her path are picked up and hugged. No baby doll comes within arms reach of her without being given kisses.

I love it about her.

She will stop playing to crawl over to me and give me a kiss, for no reason. She has just started doing this throw her arms open wide and fall into you hugs. Wrapping her tiny little arms around your neck and sighing.

It's a gift and a reminder every single day that she was sent to heal us. To spread love and joy and heal broken hearts.

Love.

Healing.

Joy.

Through chubby arms, messy faces and plump little lips puckered up to mine

Live.

Simple acts of love, that’s my Simple Moment, Bigger Picture this week. What’s yours?

Capture.

Link up yours at Alita Jewel's Treasures this week.

Share.

Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog. Your post must link back here or have our button (found on the sidebar).

Encourage.

Try to visit the other participants and encourage each other in this journey we call life.

We are focusing on little moments of love this month. A moment, a proposal, your first kiss, the first time you looked in their eyes....will you share your little moments of love with us?

Pendulum

2012-02-01T13:09:00.001-06:00

Photos Credit

This season of life is a ride on a pendulum. Swinging from here to there, a push a pull.

The pull of desires, dreams, goals unfulfilled. The push to do this, that and the other.

It leaves you off balanced and teetering

Focus on the pull, get knocked over by the push. Focus on the push get pulled backwards by the pull.

So you hang on tight.

Swing left and right, front and back. Knowing that a pendulum will always come back to where it started eventually.

Eventually.

Holding her up

2012-01-30T21:38:00.002-06:00

Inspired by Bigger Picture Blogs Creative Inspiration Today I worked on this story some more, from his view. Warning, this did not have the editing time the last piece had it was just a quick free write.

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He looks up at her with fear and sadness in his eyes. Who is this woman in front of him? A shell of her former self. Where is the spark, the light, the love that used to radiate from her. She could brighten a room and his mood with just a look, a small smile. Now she is a crumbled mass in his arms. Deep sobs racking her whole body. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say so he just rubs her head, kisses the top of it gently and whispers, "it will be okay".

But will it he wonders?

He pulls her up and cups her face in his hands. Willing her to look him in the eyes, to see how much he loves her, to see that while everything has changed they are still the same. The same couple that loves and cares for each other. The couple that holds hands as they walk down the street. Who would rather spend a date night at a burger joint than a fancy restaurant. Who will sit on their back porch talking about everything and nothing for hours.

“We will get through this” he whispers to her with a gaze so serious and intent. He is trying to bore his words onto her brain, make her see through her pain. “I love you, and you love me and we together we will hold each other up and we will figure this out”.

She does’t speak, she just closes her eyes and lets her head fall from his hands onto his chest. Tears streaming down her face, soaking his shirt.

He collapses to the floor into a crumpled pile of limbs, bringing her down with him. Together they sit, a tangled pile of humanity and emotions. In the darkness of this space he allows the tears to fall from his eyes. They mingle with hers and form rivers of pain that pool on his shirt. How did they get here? Just a few weeks earlier they were celebrating the image of their little “peanut” as they named him and now this.

Now there was nothing. Nothing but a crumbled imaged stained from her tears and a broken wife laying in his arms.

Savory Sunday: Peanut Butter Spoons

2012-01-29T20:09:00.000-06:00

A quick post for your Sunday evening.

You may or may not know that I have a love for Peanut Butter. It's practically a food group on it's own in our house as my daughter loves it too. If you want to really make me happy, add chocolate to it, that is a match made in heaven. In fact I have an entire Pinterest Board called "Peanut Butter in my Belly" that is, mostly chocolate peanut butter recipes.

However sleep deprivation, three kids, school jobs, stuff, stuff, and more stuff means I don't always have time to bake all, or any, of those wonderful goodies.

Sometimes thought it's necessary to have a sweet peanut butter chocolate treat. You just need a little to take the craving edge of when you are dieting or it may be that time of the month wen you need a little extra chocolate. Whatever it is I have invented (or modified a basic principle) the perfect less than a minute to prep chocolate peanut butter snack.

Peanut Butter Spoons

1. Dip spoon into jar of peanut butter (I prefer crunchy) and scoop a heaping spoonful

2. Sprinkle, roll, dip, otherwise cover with one of the following:

mini chocolate chips
chocolate chips
M&M's
Any other kind of chocolate bits and pieces you may have around

3. Eat and be happy.

Personally M&Ms have become my favorite, they really do make it the perfect snack.

Do you have a go to quick and easy guilty snack pleasure? Are you on Pinterest? Share your link so I can follow you!

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A Moment {Simple Moments, Bigger Picture}

2012-01-26T10:07:00.000-06:00

I stare at her, at them, willing my brain to burn this moment, so many moments into my memory.

This exact moment.

The roundness of her cheeks.The way the water makes her eyelashes stick together in clumps. How they look like the points of stars or of a Japanese doll. Big bright eyes surrounded by rays of lashes stretching out.

I please with myself don't let this moment fade into the foggy files of an aging brain. Don't. Miss. This.

Sometimes I have my camera and can sneak a shot of the moment. Of my little ones doing big things.

Many times I wish for a camera to capture the moments. To preserve them all, every last one. I want to live in the moment, but also document it. Remember it. Cherish it.

I look at my older two children and wonder how many moments, how many simple, everyday moments have I missed. Forgotten.

I don't want to me so consumed with remembering, documenting, that I forget to live it. For what good is a memory of a moment if the moment was just observed and not lived?

So I grasp and I pull. Steal moments here and there from the fog of memory and I cherish the ones that will fade and be forgotten. I may not remember every simple little moment. But every moment will be lived.

Live.

Simply living the moment, that’s my Simple Moment, Bigger Picture this week. What’s yours?

Capture.

Link up yours at This Heavenly Life this week.

Share.

Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog. Your post must link back here or have our button (found on the sidebar).

Encourage.

Try to visit the other participants and encourage each other in this journey we call life.

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

2012-01-25T00:30:00.000-06:00

Silenced

2012-01-24T00:30:00.000-06:00

Her pain was taboo

They silenced her so they wouldn't see it

A band-aid over the mouth

If she doesn't speak it, it didn't happen

They can live their everyday without acknowledging hers.

Inspired by yesterday's Bigger Picture Blogs Creative Inspiration every Monday they post a few words on their Facebook page to see where it takes you.

Darkness

2012-01-23T00:30:00.000-06:00

This is a fiction piece that I wrote fora writing practice I did with the Bigger Picture Blogs Leaders, the prompt "Darkness" was darkness and since we were meeting on Friday the 13th we we supposed to try to write scary.

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She sat on the end of the chaise in the dark room, back straight and rigid hands on her knees just staring into the darkness. It was so dark, dark like the murky film on the ultrasound that laid crumpled on the floor at her feet. There was not even a chance of light as the storm clouds were gathering behind her tightly closed curtains. It’s like the world was mourning with her. Blocking out the light, muffling the sounds and drowning her world in their tears.

The only sound that could be heard in the darkness was her shallow breathing and the staccato plucking of the musical mobile above the empty crib. It’s music sounding less like a sweet lullaby and more like the eerie chimes of an organ playing in the background of a Hitchcock film.

She was brought out of her near catatonic state by the sound of steps pounding up the stairs. They came closer to her quickly, but sounded slow and heavy, like he was trudging through heavy snow as fast as he could only to be slowed by the weight with each step. Each thump up the stairs bought him closer to her and pushed her heart farther and farther into her gut.

She knew he would come, how could he not after the text she sent:

“it’s happened again”

So soon though, she didn’t think he would here so soon. She feels almost as if he is violating her, intruding on her space and her darkness. She doesn’t want to share, doesn’t want to let light in by opening the door she just wants to let the darkness envelop her.

The doorknob jiggles but doesn’t budge. Apparently she had locked it when she entered the darkened room. She doesn’t remember doing that. She starts frantically going through the files of her mind trying to figure out what else she may have done. Her heart starts to pound quickly in her chest as she realizes she doesn't know. Doesn’t know how she got from where she was to here, how did she end up in this place in this state of cold darkness.

Pounding. She can hear it, she can feel it in her chest but she doesn’t move, she can’t. The pounding is getting frantic, she hears her name but it sounds like it’s being called from a million miles away instead of a mere few feet.

She wills herself to stand but she doesn’t know how. Her body doesn’t feel like her own it feels like the shell of a puppet, deflated and empty being moved by an outside force greater then her. She sees her hand, bony and lined with veins, a stark white in contrast against the light-less room. It reaches shakily for the lock and turns it with a click.

As the door flings open, she notices a dark streak on her wrist. It’s a dark contrast aganist her stark white skin and she suddenly notices the feeling. The feeling of warmth flowing from her. She looks up at him her eyes full of fear, suddenly vunerable. Their eyes lock for a second before she collapses into his outstretched arms.

Salt Water

2012-01-20T19:22:00.000-06:00

The tears fall down my cheeks as the wails fill the air.

Yet the pain, the pain is still there.

I cry.

I cry rivers, rivers that flow into streams
Streams that flow into rivers.

Rivers of tears I cry and still the pain is there.

The tears fall for days. Days turn into weeks. Weeks into months. Months into years and the tears flow down.
Rivers of tears flowing into oceans of tears.

An ocean of tears that lifts me up until I am floating.
Head popping out o the sea and gasping a breathe of fresh air.

New life breathed in.

Hope.

Today's Prompt: “The cure for anything is salt water….sweat, tears or the sea.”
~ Isak Dinesen, pseudonym of Baroness Karen von Blixen-Finecke

Not really memoir or fiction, it's what I call possibly poetry. It's where the prompt went when I started to write...

Vivid {5 Minute Friday}

2012-01-20T16:05:00.001-06:00

Technicolor Joy

The memory is so vivid.

Two years later it is still seared into my brain.

The sweet babyness of his profile. The last image I ever saw. I can still see it as vividly as I can see the light of God in his sisters eyes. For this memory I am so thankful. So thankful that I have that one thing to hold onto.

What I never expected was the physical pain that I could still feel two years later. A kick from tiny baby toes pierces the soft flesh of my belly leaving a small bruise. That night the bruise of my brain remembers the terror, pain and horror of the procedure to determine why my baby died.

I pray I will someday forget that.

Not wake up in a shaking sweat remembering that horrible office. The baffled young doctor who seemed ill prepared to deal with my over emotional response. The nurse so caring and comforting. The darkness, the whispers. My husband clutching my hand kissing my head his tears falling softly onto and mixing with mine.

The vividness of these memories sometimes scares me.

Can I remember something good as well?

I wrestle my brain. Try to remember a sweet happy moment.

The babies big eyes, open and bright coming in for a kiss. Her dancing in the tub with her sister. The way the roundness of their faces is the same but that her mouth is her brothers and her dimples, squished into sweet cheeks.

I want to remember vividly them in the morning. Finding out its a snow day. Sitting on the floor in layers of fleece with a cat curled up in the center of them. My boy lays on his belly all stretched out and long. Long like a boy but still round in the face of a child. His head propped up on an arm and he smiles at me “Ah family, it’s the best thing ever”. He sister in her heart covered fuzzy fleece pants is curled on her side in a ball to remain worm. Her head rests on his back like he is her personal pillow and she giggles. The baby in head to toe pink fleece is squealing and happy to be sitting with the big kids.

And like that I replace the vividness of pain with vivid and technicolor joy.

vivid

The Cusp {Simple Moments, Bigger Picture}

2012-01-18T20:51:00.002-06:00

She’s on the cusp.

It kind of feels like the whole house is on the cusp. So many things growing and changing at once.

The nature of a house full of little people I suppose.

The waves of change are rocky though. They can leave you unsettled and uneasy. Unsure whether you will land on soft beaches or rocky shores.

Learning to ride the waves is a lifetime lesson. I am trying hard to ride these waves over this cusp and on to the inevitable next one. To relax into the ride and try to enjoy it as I go.

No matter the outcome or where I land.

She is on the cusp and I am trying to soak up every last minute of this in between stage.

This not quite a baby and not yet a toddler.

This having an opinion but not quiet able to express it.

This mommy is my world but hey these other people are starting to seem really cool too.

This I want to move and go and do and go! go1 go1 but not yet having all the skills to do it.

She is almost one.

Still very much my baby, but on the cusp of toddlerhood and I am trying to sit back soak up every last drop.

Live.

Simply riding the waves over the cusp, that’s my Simple Moment, Bigger Picture this week. What’s yours?

Capture.

Link up yours HERE! this week.

Share.

Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog. Your post must link back here or have our button (found on the sidebar).

Encourage.

Try to visit the other participants and encourage each other in this journey we call life.

Do you ride the waves or fight the current?

Memories Captured

2012-01-18T20:45:00.000-06:00

Oh this little one. She warms my heart (and keeps me from sleeping). She is on the cusp of big changes, and I can't wait to see them.

(there's a lot more about her at that link, I hope you'll click over)

Title and Tagline {RemembeRED}

2012-01-17T11:30:00.000-06:00

Dark Sorrow {Just Write}

2012-01-16T20:17:00.000-06:00

I wonder how much sorrow one heart can hold
How much loss and pain

How much sadness can one heart bear before it looses faith

How many times must the breathe be stolen
The rug removed from under the feet
The words you dreaded heard
Before its too much

Too much pain
sadness
sorrow
grief

How much sorrow can one heart hold before it turns black with decay

Before it can no longer see the light that leads ones out of darkness

Before one says why?

Why always me Lord?

Before one tuns away instead of waiting for an answer.

For Him there is no such thing as too much sorrow
He is there to take that sorrow
that burden
that pain
that grief

If only you have the strength to lift your head
See beyond the darkness
The weight on your chest

To know that you are loved by Him
by me
by so many people.

Now it is dark
So much sorrow
So much pain

Take your time and keep looking up
Until the dark sorrow turns light again.

* written for a friend who is hurting, I hope shes knows she is loved.

Savory Sunday: Chili Sunday's

2012-01-15T20:46:00.000-06:00

We have been having a great time with our Update our meals Challenge*, well at least the parents are. The kids, the big ones, get a little tired of not having their "favorites". So to stay true to our mission with the challenge while accommodating the kids we have declared Sunday's:

Chili Sunday

My kids love chili. PBgirl loves it solely for the noodles or chips we usually serve with it. PBboy just loves chili. So every Sunday while I watch football and do laundry PBDad because the chilimaster. We alternate between white and red and once a month make our favorite chili to keep everyone happen (the kids call it "regular" chili)

Here are some of the recipes we have tried so far:

Sam's Vegetarian Bean Chili

Source: marthastewart.com via Melissa on Pinterest

We have made this vegetarian chili twice. Since technically we are finishing our week of detox we decided to repeat it. My husband actually said tonight that this is his second favorite chili. Second to our own of course.

Heather's Texas Red Chili

Source: marthastewart.com via Melissa on Pinterest

This one was a big disappointment. For one it was a lot of work to make the sauce and we had the wrong meat (one of them was ground). I actually really enjoyed it despite it being super hot. The kids couldn't eat it at all it was too hot for them.

Leslie's Green Chili

Source: marthastewart.com via Melissa on Pinterest

This was our one true chili failure. As a chili, it was horrible. It was just so tomatillo flavored and sour. Like maybe if we had bought green salsa instead of tomatillos it would have been more balanced and tasty? The leftovers did make great taco filling.

Kahil's Turkey and White-Bean Chili

Source: marthastewart.com via Melissa on Pinterest

This is my absolute favorite white chili. I have never liked white chili and really hominy either for that matter. This chili however I eat until I literally can't eat anymore, it's that good. We do serve it over noodles and even the kids eat it. PBbaby loves it so much that we have to take turns feeding it to her because as soon as she swallows she is whining and crying for more, there's no time to feed yourself!

Our chili adventure is almost over as football season is winding down! We are going to try a steak chili next weekend, one more white and then we need to work on perfecting our recipe for the Church & School's Chili Cook off!

What's your favorite chili? Red or White? Noodles or Chips?

* Yes we're still doing it. I have just been negligent in posting our Meal Plan. You can see all the recipes on the Update our Meals Challenge Board on Pinterest.

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Fun with Microbes

2012-01-13T10:32:00.000-06:00

{alternate title Julie is crazy}

I have this super talented (seriously she should re-open her shop because she makes the most beautiful handbags) friend who got bored and work one day. This is what happens when Julie gets bored at work.

Meet An.thrax the Stuffed Microbe (odd typing is because the last thin I need is homeland security fining my blog!) .

An excerpt from An.thrax's letter (to illustrate Julie's crazy*)

For the record, and in case any federal agents happen to intercept this piece of mail, this is NOT real an.thrax. It is a toy. Or, for some of you, a picture of a toy because the down side of capitalism is that toy an.thrax costs money and I’m not rich, so I only bought one and took pictures of it like a cheapskate. It is not infectious or hazardous. In fact, it’s downright LOVEABLE. And, if we are being honest, it’s not even really an.thrax, it’s another disease, Yersinia Pestis. Some moron at Giant Microbes needs to pack up his desk. Or her desk. But I like to imagine a really arrogant dude making this mistake, just for fun.

So we got An.thrax last week and he settled into our hipster lifestyle just fine:

He was generally well behaved:

He even forwarded science by finding the source of black holes (hint, they are in the back of suburban mom mini-vans):

He did get a little out of hand on Saturday night...

So we shipped him out, we can't have wild microbes running free with children in the house:

Where's he going next? You'll just have to "like" his Facebook page to find out and follow his adventures. There is a whole album of his antics up there for you to see!

* just to clarify Julie is crazy AWESOME not crazy crazy

Domestic Ninja {Simple Moments, Bigger Picture}

2012-01-12T00:30:00.000-06:00

This is the tree looking good...

Our Christmas tree was slumped over in the corner of the room. There were needles everywhere, ornaments falling off, the branches we’re drooping, I couldn't remember the last time it was watered.

It was a sad, sad, state.

Then there was the clutter of the debris of a party. Extra chairs and tables out, toys strewn about, crumbs, crumbs and more crumbs.

The state of my house was directly affecting my mood. I just needed it out. All of it. I wanted my house back. Normally I love Christmas and I try to keep the tree up until the second week of January, but this year I just wasn’t feeling it. The lack of sleep, the chaos of the week before, the busyness I just wanted to take control of something.

So during an amazing day of napping I tackled the tree. All the ornaments came down and I started packing up all the other decorations.

The next day I sat frustrated. I didn't feel like I was getting anywhere because the tree was still there. I couldn't vacuum or move furniture back. I like doing things in a certain order, I hate cleaning up around other messes. I felt myself getting grumpy.

So while the baby slept I sat down to write but was bugged by how messy the house was. That’s it. I said in my head, in a quite dramatic foot stomping fashion, I was going to do the tree myself. See the tree has always been my husband job but he was at work and I wanted it gone! Now!

In my head I remembered a quote I saw once from someone talking about being a Proverbs 31 wife (I have a whole angsty battle about being a Proverbs 31 wife, but that’s another post!) and she said that you shouldn’t ask your husband to do something you can do yourself.

hmmmm...

I think I can do it. I want it done. He is super stressed and busy so I’m just going to do it.

and I did.

I got the tree out, I moved the couch, I washed the floors and I vacuumed and it felt so good.

It was like I had taken all the cobwebs, dust and clutter out of my head and dumped it in the garbage creating a fresh open space. I felt like a domestic ninja, strong and capable. It was freeing. See for the last 2 years I have been pregnant and dealing with some physical side affects and post surgical problems. For two years I had to wait to have someone else do heavy lifting. It was freeing not only to have a clean living room but to realize how far I have come and how healed I am.

And hey, the domestic ninja title ain't bad either, much better than June Cleaver.

Live.

Simply doing it myself, that’s my Simple Moment, Bigger Picture this week. What’s yours?

Capture.

Link up yours at {Just} Lenae this week.

Share.

Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog. Your post must link back here or have our button (found on the sidebar).

Encourage.

Try to visit the other participants and encourage each other in this journey we call life.

So have you been a Domestic Ninja lately? Do you keep your Christmas up until January or is it already down?

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

2012-01-11T06:30:00.000-06:00

Walking the Walk

2012-01-09T05:52:00.000-06:00

I have a confession to make.

In this space right here, I am really good at talking about our loss. I can shout his name from the hills and I can easily say but really it’s four.

In my day to day life, not so much.

I’m out often with just PBbaby and am always asked, “oh is she your first” and I always respond with “no my third”.

But really it’s four.

The easy answer is that those hard conversations, those pitying eyes are not something I want to have with a store clerk who is just making small talk. I think that's fair.

What about at home though?

I feel like we walk a tightrope of trying to live the life we have with the children who are here without forgetting the one we lost. I struggle with how to keep him in our hearts without turning everyday celebrations of life into a morose occasion. My children are young, my daughter was only 2 when we lost our son, they don’t quiet understand. My son understands but is a worrier and the more you talk about something the more he frets.

So I stay silent.

Stephanie does this fun thing on the fourth of every month where she takes a picture of all her kids together. I had planned to join in this year but completely forgot until she posted hers. I was so bummed, I missed it, today was the fourth, and I needed to take my picture on the third. When a light bulb went off.

But really it’s four.

So I gathered my kids up. On that Fourth day of the month I gathered my 3 kids and teddy bear and piled them into daddy’s chair and snapped away.

But really its four and now I will have a way to remember that and celebrate that in a way that is celebration and not a funeral. In away that when my kids are older I can explain it to them. That bear, that bear sits in for your brother.

I’m walking the walk and it brings me such comfort.

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Can I tell you something else about that picture? About that bear? That bear, that bear that is sitting in place of my dear lost boy. He belonged to my husbands grandma, the grandma that from that fateful day I have envisioned holding, rocking and loving on my baby.