those who want a baby

We had the blessing of hosting a friend's baby for an evening recently. Baby Joel was a big hit with everyone. Hard to beat a sweet guy who loves eating pinto beans and avocados in the chair next to us. He was so darn cute, and brought back great memories of my little guys when they were... well, littler. :)

Ever since that evening, the boys have talked about "Baby Joel" and how much they wanted to keep him. Obi-1 thinks it would be great fun to have his own "Baby Joel." He reminds me, at least once a day, that he wants a baby and he wants to name the baby Joel. It seems inconsequential to my 3-year old that names might differ for a baby girl or boy; the name must be Joel. Evidently all cool babies are Joel.

So, it shouldn't have surprised me that he brought it up this evening when Grandma came over. Obi-1 filled her in on all the events of the week, and ended his stories with this: "Hey Grandma - I'm going to name my baby Joel."

Grandma, only half-listening until the word baby entered the conversation, replied, "What was that?"

"We're going to get a baby, and I'm going to name my baby Joel."

I entered the room at about this point in the conversation. Obviously quite excited, Grandma turned to me and said, "WHAT was that?"

"Oh, we watched my friends' baby last weekend. The boys have been saying they want a baby Joel ever since that evening." I knew I was delivering disappointment, which meant I had to hold back giggles.

"Oh." Her face fell a bit. "OH."

Grandma, dear, we know you want a baby Joel, too. The thing is, Baby Joel got to go home with his own parents, who were probably up in the middle of the night with him, feeding him, changing his diapers throughout the day, packing a bag full of stuff for every outing, and all of that stuff that goes along with Baby Joels.

We, on the other hand, are headed out on a date. :)

thirteen things we hear when we make quiet

Happy Thursday! (This is especially true for my little Australian friends... the rest of you are celebrating early). After some time away from the computer, I'm feeling much more refreshed and ready to tackle a list. In order to read it, though, you'll have to enjoy a little story about my beloved boys and our adventures.

Obi-1 was struggling to settle down for a little afternoon nap today. I sang a few songs and we did some deep breathing, but I could tell his mind was still racing. So, I taught him how to "Make Quiet." In case you're unfamiliar, Making Quiet is different than Being Quiet. Being quiet is just trying not to make any noise - what I like to call an "anti-" activity: anti-noise, anti-interruption, anti-fidgety. It's very hard for little boys, and actually very hard for most of us, whose beings aren't very quiet.

Making Quiet, on the other hand, is a great skill & quiet easy to learn! In a nutshell, here's how you Make Quiet: close your eyes. Breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, as deeply and slowly and quietly as you can. And then... Listen. Listen to every sound, and try to figure out what you're hearing. The more (and longer) you Make Quiet, the more you'll hear. This list is thirteen things we heard when we were Making Quiet...

1. The garbage truck outside in front of our house
2. Glass being dumped into the recycling section of the garbage truck
3. The neighbors' dog whining
4. A neighbor mowing the yard two houses away
5. A squirrel running across our roof
6. An airplane flying high overhead
7. The hum of my computer
8. Obi-2 snoring
9. Cars on the street a block behind us, slowing down for the nearby Italian cafe and shops
10. My tummy rumbling (note to self: must eat lunch!)
11. The mail dropping into our mail slot by the front door
12. The washing machine spinning out the freshly laundered sheets
13. A neighbor child riding his bicycle on the sidewalk & laughing out loud

By the end of our time together Making Quiet, I felt more rested, and Obi-1 was asleep. It was a good way to spend a bit of a lazy afternoon.

p.s. lots of people write interesting Thursday Thirteen lists. You can find them here...

television, schmelivision

Imagine you're in a room of friends - intelligent folk, people who have interesting lives and busy schedules - and the subject of TV comes up. What does everyone say? My experience is a whole-lotta people saying, "I don't really watch TV," and "I just don't have time for TV."

Do you think you need to excuse your TV habits?
Hide them?
Pretend you only watch intellectually-stimulating, informative programs?
Do you coyly say, "Reality TV? What's that?"

Yeah... me neither. I really don't watch TV. :)

However, last week, I watched TV with my mom, and it was a riot. We made the most of our time, watching the season finale of two shows that I cannot believe I've lived so long without seeing before. What in the world was I doing that was so important? They were riveting, I tell you. Must. See. T.V.

The Bachelor and Dancing with the Stars...

Mom & I sat on our sofa and watched these shows and ran play-by-play commentary throughout, while Mr. Kenobi sat helplessly bored and laughing with rolled eyes. Mom & I share a cynical humor, and those shows just provided so much material!

In case you're one of those 2-dozen people who haven't seen The Bachelor (now in its 700th season, I think), here's the main plot:

One guy decides it would be fun to date 25 women.... no, wait - one guy is chosen to date 25 women. Twenty-five women decide it would be fun to quit their jobs/school/social lives for a few weeks and live with each other while dating the same guy.

Two days into the experience, half of the women realize they've found the love of their life (the aforementioned starring guy). At approximately the same moment, the guy realizes he's having a lot of fun and these women will do anything for his attention. So he pretends not to notice them, and enjoys the antics. Six weeks later, starring hottie man has sufficiently made out with 25 women, sometimes on deeply romantic group dates, and other times on highly coveted dates that the women refer to as "alone time." (Women use "alone time" to pull out all stops and bare as much anatomy as possible, hoping the guy will remember them tomorrow when he has to give out roses.)

By the end of the show (the final episode we watched together), two women have found "The One" man who is right for them in the whole-wide-world. Each spends her time imagining wedding plans and babies with this guy. Meanwhile, Mr. Right is trying to figure out how to keep the multi-woman thing alive a bit longer. (It's so desperately difficult, as you probably know, to be making out with two people on a single weekend, trying to figure out who you want to french kiss for the rest of your life.)

So, guy takes girls home to meet the family, and a lively discussion about social work and sexual attraction ensues. Grandpa brings up random references to religious affiliation, and the guy leaves still not sure who should be his bride: the one his family likes, or the one they don't? To help him decide, he enjoys one final "fantasy suite" stay with each woman, then goes for a beach run (shirtless, of course) to clear his mind. On the run, he sees several desperate women who flirt from their beach blankets, giving him clarity: there is no wrong pick! Have
fun, and somebody else will be waiting if this doesn't work out!

Relieved at the inconsequential nature of his predicament, he picks one girl for marriage. Then, in a heart wrenching moment, he sends the other one packing with a "I love you, too, but I love another girl more" speech. Finally, he asks his true love's last name just in time to propose.

Funny show. Okay, yes, it's sad. However, with the background commentary my mother & I were able to provide, it was highly entertaining. My final analysis: the only thing more boring and pathetic than watching two people make out for an hour is watching them talk about the make-out session for another hour.

In comparison, Dancing with the Stars wasn't nearly as much fun. Great dancing, lasting about 90 seconds for three couples. The rest of the two-hour show is filled with people complaining about blisters on their feet and reliving the bikini-style costumes of past weeks. I'm a dancer, mom's a dancer, and the funniest part of the show was watching Mom pull out every phone within reach and try to dial in to vote for the speed skater.

Mom is gone, so back to our own reality.

patron saint

Obi-1 lost one of Mr. Potato Head's ears. Surely it's somewhere in his playroom, but he's convinced it's lost forever. He was recently telling Grandma Kenobi about the missing toy.

"Maybe you should pray to Saint Anthony," says Grandma K.

"Who's Saint Anthony?" my 3-year old asks.

"Saint Anthony is the patron saint of lost items. He'll take your request to God. Then God will help you find the ear." explained his dearly beloved Grandma.

This drew a thoughtful, scrunched up little face on Obi-1. We've had similar theological conversations at our house, trying to respect his grandmother while sharing our Protestant "direct line" approach to prayer.

After pausing a moment to consider his options, he decided,

"Nah. I could just pray to Pooh."

why writing takes more time than we've had

When my mom comes to town, I feel almost as disconnected as when I leave. This isn't entirely bad... a little vacation from all things normal can be nice. However, the week slips by me with none of our weekly routine intact, blogging included.

So, sorry about the absence of my updates here. Mom gives me a lot of material (mostly funny) to write about. There are also some fun updates on the boys. Oh - and I have a couple new recipes and some home decorating projects accomplished. I will get this into words soon; I promise.

In the meantime, I need a little break.

thirteen reasons I love my mom

While this list doesn't nearly cover all of the reasons I love her, I thought it fitting to honor Mom with a short recap of why I am so grateful to be her daughter.

1. She's coming to visit me... from far, far away - like 3-plane-connections-and-hours-of-flights-&-transfers far away - this week!


2. She is gorgeous - a true natural beautiful, and the vanity in me hopes I got some of those genes. :)


3. She's part of the "right-wing conspiracy," so to speak. I love her for it, even when she thinks I'm falling off the "left coast" of America. She has intelligence and opinions, and she's not afraid to share them.


4. She exercises her faith. I love how she continues to grow spiritually. She loves a loving God, serves him and his people, and walks with a practical attitude and humble heart. Her faith makes a difference now and for eternity.


5. She is a hard worker. She owns her own business (a ballet school). She has done all of the teaching, choreography, direction, production, costuming, travel, marketing, and everything else that goes into its success for 30 years. I admire all of the time and energy she's put into training and working to be a serious pro in her field, and a pioneer in a little old Midwest town, USA.


6. She is a really hard worker. She works a second job as a Realtor, and has achieved amazing success with lots of advanced training in that field.


7. She can make anything, and it will be delicious.


8. She can clean and decorate anything, and it will be beautiful.


9. She can shop the socks off anyone. The woman knows how to conquer a mall, and make it fun.


10. She is amazingly creative, generous, and loves children. The combination is magical.


11. She is physically fit and incredibly self-disciplined... Triathlons. Skiing. Dancing. If she hasn't done it, she'll probably try it. My mother does not stop moving.


12. She has high expectations for her children. I don't think anyone believes in me more, is willing to sacrifice to help me achieve, and knows her child's true potential. There is a special blessing in having somebody believe in you... just ask me or my brothers.


13. She loves her grandchildren, and is the dearest "Nani" they could ever want.

anywhere I will go

Obi-1's very best friend ever turned four this weekend, and who can miss such an important event? So, off we drove, 3+ hours each way, to enjoy a terrific birthday party, loads of fun, and even a double date! Much of the weekend will certainly have to be filled in later.

Sunday morning, we went to our old church before leaving town, and what a sweet time of worship it was. There is just something special about worshipping with people you know really, really, really well - people who've walked with you through births and deaths and pain and joy - and even though our years there were short, we lived a lot of life with those brothers and sisters.

The church has a really cool tradition after communion. The pastor invites all of the children to come up to the front table and sing one last song to the Lord. The congregation joins in and praises and acknowledges our God, who transcends age, season, maturity, and even belief, in a rousing hymn.

I have always loved seeing the various ages of children up in front, singing and wiggling, sometimes dancing or jumping, while the pastor smiles with them and our congregation sings and rejoices. It's such a jubilant way to end a worship service. It's also a scene I loved to watch with my infants in arms, imagining when they'd be old enough to join the other kids. Through the years, I'd observe how other parents craned to watch their child, or stood just feet away, encouraging. I imagined someday that would be us, with our boys growing taller in that front row; eventually they'd be singing along and coming to know all of the words of those beautiful hymns.

And so, with favorite chords ringing from the voices around me, my tears finally spilled over. I had nearly forgotten that weekly tradition, but all of those dreams came back this Sunday, when we realized the boys were old enough to go and they bolted forward with their old friends. I watched as both joined; there in the crowd was Obi-2, with his eyes barely peeking above the table, Obi-1, his chin high enough to see, older kids standing necks, shoulders, and waistlines above, all singing in young exuberance.

Suddenly, I felt like I was watching a dream of deep memories, and all of the emotions brought out by Mother's Day, corporate worship, and an intense sermon careened into each other. Our former pastor - the man who had baptized our youngest son into discipleship - smiled at our little Obi-2, and I relived his proclamation of our family in a covenant relationship with that church and all believers. Here was the pastor who had guided and encouraged us, with the congregation who had loved us and been loved by us, and my children, all singing a vibrant chorus of faith. Suddenly, the words of the hymn hit me with a rush of intensity.

Anywhere with Jesus I will surely go,
Anywhere he leads me in this world below;
Anywhere without him dearest joys would fade;
Anywhere with Jesus I am not afraid.

Anywhere with Jesus I am not alone;
Other friends may fail me, he is still my own;
Though his hand may lead me through the darkest days,
Anywhere with Jesus is a house of praise.

Anywhere with Jesus, e’en the farthest seas,
Telling souls in darkness of salvation free;
Ready as he summons me to walk or stay,
Anywhere with Jesus he will show the way.

Anywhere, I will follow; Anywhere I will go.
Anywhere, with Him beside me, He is there upon His throne
Anywhere, I will follow; Anywhere, I will go
Anywhere, fearing only Him and Him alone.

Anywhere with Jesus I will surely go,
Anywhere he leads me in this world below;
Anywhere without him dearest joys would fade;
Anywhere with Jesus I am not afraid.

As I heard my own voice sing, I cried for all the times I've felt this move wasn't fair. I recalled the months of searching for a new church, and our own struggles in finding our place. The long days and weeks of starting a new office, and how that affects family vacations, weekend projects, and evening conversations in my home. The new friendship that began with an apparent kindred spirit, and abruptly ended weeks later. The weaknesses of my spirit and circumstances feel overwhelming, and sometimes all I want is to go home.

It is so very far from perfect - this faith of mine - and yet it is a real and amazing gift. This whole scene of our children, friends and former pastor served to remind me that Jesus is always with me, always has been, and has promised to always stay. When I feel weakest and stuck in reverse, His strength and encouragement reorients me.

When I sang that chorus through my tears, I was reminded that loneliness and grief are realities of moving away from everything. We feel loss, even of the things we once imagined for ourselves. The song may be jubilant, but it stings from everything and everyone left behind when we move forward in faith. It also proclaims a truth I live out daily - that I am not afraid. I can rest confidently in our Savior's safety and sure of his leadership.

thirteen surprises about motherhood

I'm slowly getting used to the idea that I'm part of that group of folks who are honored by a special day each year. Mothers' Day has always been a special time for me; it was the weekend of my mom's ballet school spring concert. This year, they will celebrate 56 years of such performances in my little hometown.

I remember my mom and my grandmothers, (both lived nearby) receiving big hanging baskets of flowers from their kids for Mother's Day. As the summer progressed, the baskets would bloom and flourish in their care; those women were skilled and nurturing: with plants, as well as their children and grandchildren.

This week, I'm grateful for motherhood. Some moments (days, seasons...) are harder than others. However, this is a calling that I love, and it is an honor I hardly comprehend. Here are thirteen things (just a smidgen of the real list) that have surprised me about being a Mama.

1. I didn't know how amazingly gifted Mr. Kenobi is when it comes to all things fatherly. I didn't realize how much I would love parenting with him.




2. I didn't know how much pain or fear I could endure, nor how joyfully empowered I could feel.




3. I didn't know how much I would like these little people. My boys are not just loveable, but they're actually quite interesting people, with fun senses of humor, and generally enjoyable personalities. They have interests and skills and unique gifts, and I find that even though they're quite different from me, it is a gift to see them up-close in so many ways, and I like spending my time with them.




4. I didn't know how little patience I had, nor how much God would supply patience beyond my needs.




5. I didn't know the subtle differences in toddler dialect. I can hear & translate words that sound like swearing to outsiders, because I realize he's asking for a (tr)uck, has lost his (st)ick, or doesn't want (st)itches on his head.




6. I didn't know how strongly I felt about so many issues, and I didn't know how greatly I could love people whose views are completely different than mine.




7. I didn't know how much time is spent on things totally unrelated to eating bon-bons. :) I thought I'd have lots of time "when I am home with the kids" to fill in the blank here with any hobby or interest or amount of sleep...




8. I didn't know how encouraging it would be to hear the wisdom of women who've struggled and rejoiced in ways I cannot imagine




9. I didn't know how much a head injury bleeds.




10. I didn't know how big a gift (and challenge) it would be to share Jesus with somebody who can receive true love, ask real questions, and has ample opportunity to watch how I live out my own faith.




11. I didn't know that the box, not its contents, is the true gift for most young children.




12. I didn't know how much I would enjoy the challenge of managing budgets, feeding a family, or refereeing games. I was not a cook, not a homemaker, not skilled at any of these things before motherhood. Now it's part of the job description, and I enjoy it!




13. I didn't know how very, very, very right my mother nearly always was. And Is! I didn't know how much I would think of her and realize she is a complete rock-star in motherhood. Thanks, Mom. I love you! :)

p.s. there are lots of people who write interesting TT lists...

wounded at the hands of a brother: an update

Two little monkeys running 'round the place
One fell down and bonked his face
We went to the doctor and the doctor says,
"No stitches needed on Obi-2's face!

Yes, after checking it again, I wasn't positive that my home diagnosis was right, so off we went to the doctor for a second opinion. (Wednesdays are his day off, which means he's an extra-wonderful doctor for making the exception to see us!!) After a close examination, it was determined that Obi-2 will have a scar, but doesn't need stitches.

This is a relief for many reasons, of course, but not least was learning this morning that Obi-2 cannot say "stitches" correctly. This word joins (tr)uck and (st)ick as a potential problem in public. I am getting used to being that mother who has to explain my child's words to shocked passers-by. If you're just catching up on Obi-2 translation, here is a sample:

TR = F (if used in words that end in k, like truck)
ST = D (if used in words that end in k, like stick)
ST = B (if used in words that end in other consonant combos, like stitches)

So, his face is scarred, his brother has an illustrative story about the injury, and his language just gets more interesting. This morning, as I explained why we were going to the doctor, he announced loudly, "I no want (st)itches on my head!" Yup... true for us all, buddy.

wounded at the hands of a brother

Obi-1 and Obi-2 like to run "laps" around our main living areas...

They run from the living room to dining room, round the corner into the kitchen, through the foyer, and back around into the living room. Around and around and around they go. Sometimes they march, pretending it's the walls of Jericho (where they give a mighty shout and everyone falls down, in a very loose interpretation of the story!) :)

Sometimes they race, and they can get fast and competitive.

That's what happened today. Here, in the words of 3 1/2 year-old Obi-1, is what happened next:

"I was racing Obi-2, and he was beating me, and I wanted to beat him. I put my arm out and pushed him, and he fell into the wall, and his head broke open and a lot of his blood came out."

There you have it, folks. The younger brother is wounded now, and we're hoping a butterfly bandage (added after this photo) will be all the neccessary treatment. We've held a lot of ice on his head, and so far the swelling isn't too bad. I'll keep you posted. :)

p.s. yes, I don't post photos very often. However, this is only a partial shot of Obi-2, and I thought it was worthy of sharing an illustration to the story. :)

bum-bum dancing

Recently heard in our playroom: "Mama, can we play the bum-bum dance song?"

I am puzzled. What in the heck is the bum-bum song?!?

Turns out a classic Richie Valens song has been loosely translated to "if you want to dance with your tooshie..."

Here it is, as sung by Obi-1 and danced by Obi-2:

Para bailar la bum-bum
Para bailar la bum-bum
........ (much Spanish that we just dance, rather than sing).....
Bum-bum Bum Bum!
Bum-bum, Bum Bum!
Bum-bum, Bum Bum!
Bum Bum!"

more babybook items

At 2 years old, Obi-2 is 34 inches tall. His brother, at 3 1/2, is 39 inches tall. (These stats are just for those of you keeping track - and to help me someday when I fill out a baby book.)

Supposedly you can multiply a boy's two-year-old height by two, and predict his adult height. So, we're a bit curious... Obi-2, 5'8"?? That doesn't seem to make much sense to me. Mr. Kenobi & I are both tall. Our families are very tall - we're each the shortest sibling. In fact, there's nobody (not even my beautiful mother) who is shorter than 5'8" for a couple generations!

So is this really science, or just bad folklore?

recipes and social justice

I was so encouraged to see another post related to my recent note on hunger awareness week. Hunger is a problem that, in my opinion, goes further than simply having nothing to eat. We all could benefit from thinking about nourishing, not just ingesting, our food choices.

So thanks, Llama Mama, for your beautiful lived-out faith and real solutions! What a blessing to hear from other people who find and share practical ways to eat healthy on a very limited budget. It's an excellent topic of honest discussion, and I thought a Thursday Thirteen list would be a good way to start contributing.

So, in honor of everyone living (by choice or need) on limited grocery funds, here are thirteen recipes and tips to help keep balance in your nutrition and your checkbook.

1. Drink Water. I know, I know... this isn't a recipe. However, it really is the easiest way to stay within a limited budget. Other beverages can really add $$ to your grocery bill, often without much nutrition.


2. Homemade Bread. This is the easiest way to know what's in your food. I know making bread sounds time-consuming, but it's really not a lot of hands-on time and this recipe makes enough for 2 large, nutritious loaves. Plus, fresh bread is delicious! Once the initial pantry items (whole wheat flour, white flour, yeast, buttermilk, honey) are on hand, it's quite cheap per-loaf.


3. Simple Baked Chicken. Purchase the largest whole chicken you can find. I sometimes bake two, for extra leftovers (think soups, casseroles, enchilladas, pot pie, and #5 & #6 & #7). Select non-antibiotic, non-hormone induced, free range if you can, because it's healthier. Watch for sales, or look at Trader Joes or Costco. Slightly grease a pan, sprinkle on a bit of salt and pepper, and bake it in a 350-degree (F) oven for 1 1/2 - 2 hours, or until juices run clear.


4. Smoothies. Very easy and satisfying snack or breakfast (or whenever?)... Combine plain yogurt, frozen berries (or fresh, if you have 'em), bananas, and - (if you like it a bit more liquid & have it on hand) - a bit of juice. Blend together. aaaahhhhh...... :)


5. Chicken Salad with Apples & Raisins. Use the leftovers of #3 for a light dinner or great lunch. A little chicken goes a long way, and the added veggies & fruits make it a great meal all by itself. We enjoy this on pitas or whole wheat bread, or if you're low-carbing it, it's great by itself or with wheat crackers.


6. Homemade Chicken Stock. Waste not, want not! After cleaning all of that meat from the baked chicken (#1), throw the bones in a large pot of water with a tsp of vinegar. Bring it to a boil, and then let it simmer (skimming the water ever so often) for a day. Strain it out, and you'll have a very nutrient-rich, delicious stock to use in lots of other recipes. It also keeps for months in a freezer.


7. Lentils-n-Rice. This is an easy slow-cooker or one-dish meal. Rich in fiber & protein by itself! We just add a little sprinkle of cheese, raw veggies or fruit on the side (or a small salad), and viola!


8. Pancakes. Add 1 cup of frozen blueberries when putting these on the griddle, and you really do have a good (though carb-rich) meal. The whole wheat option makes them even more filling. Think outside the box: pancakes were my favorite dinner when I was a kid!


9. Potato Soup. The recipe makes enough for a small army! Freeze leftovers or make it with friends!


10. Oatmeal. One of the best ways to start your day, and for around $0.50 a lb in most bulk sections of the grocery store, you can hardly beat it. Add blueberries (from that bag of frozen ones you bought for the pancakes & smoothies!), or raisins, and a bit of honey for sweetness.


11. Cook together. Join somebody else to buy, prep, and cook a couple large meals or soups, then split the portions up to take home. You get the added bonus of time together, plus cost advantages (per serving) of buying in bulk.


12. Fruit. In my original post on hunger, I was discouraged (or maybe just annoyed) by how he gave up a few bananas to fit into the foodstamp budget. I recognized the frustration of how fruit can be expensive, but it's worth it. Check the frozen isle - frequently these are affordable. Also, think fresh=local. Fruit's often as affordable as a package of snacks, and better all-around. Example: a bag of apples is relatively cheap, and if you slice 'em up thinly, it will supply enough snacks for a week.


13. Buy Bulk. What you're getting in the bulk section: whole products and ingredients, in exactly the amount you need/want. What you're not getting: packaging, additives, and marketing. Good trade. Herbs, spices, grains, granolas, teas, dried fruits, flours... you'd be amazed at the selection and prices of buying bulk! As I looked at many of my recipes - if you buy some of those things n packages, it can really get expensive! You may have to ask around, but you can probably find bulk foods section in town. (Not to be confused with buying bulk, as in Costco, which is also useful)

So hopefully I have something of value in there. I've tried to give some new recipes in this and also floated some realistic ideas.

Grace,

MamaToo

p.s. there are lots of people who write interesting TT lists...

why we all changed our clothes

Obi-1: "Oh no! I stepped in poop!"

This call of distress might make sense outside, on a walk, in a park, or somewhere some irresponsible pet owner had refused to clean up after their beloved critter. It should not happen on my stairs.

Just 5 minutes earlier, Obi-2 had said "Poo-poo, Mama," which is his phrase for both bathroom duties. He does not distinguish, which is really fine - a trip to the toilet is a trip to the toilet. And in case you've missed the prior updates, please understand two things about my just-turned-2-year-old:

1. He is toilet-trained. He's done so well, and I'm a very proud mama. With very few accidents in the past couple weeks, and those being slightly wet pants, I figure he's got this under control.

2. We are blessed with two bathrooms. This is an amazing, wonderful thing, which you can only understand if you've lived in a home with one.

So, back to the story... Obi-2 called to me from just around the corner while I was cleaning up from breakfast in the kitchen. I told him to go to the upstairs bathroom, as I dried my hands and headed up just behind him (I thought). Unfortunately, he wasn't there. He wasn't upstairs at all. I realized this as I heard a faint, "Mama" from the basement playroom.

Uh-oh.

I ran down two flights of stairs (again, it's a gift to have space, except when you are Needed. Right. NOW!). At the bottom of the stairs, I found poor Obi-2 with wet pants.

Not to worry, we'll just clean up and change him and with a patient Mama in her sing-song, "Oh dear, accidents happen, sweetie!" So we headed up stairs, and en route I started to pull the wet jeans off, and only THEN I realized...

He had pooped. For real. In his pants. And I, the bright, calm, collected super-mommy who potty-trains 2-year-olds professionally, had not thought to check.

Poop on his legs, as jeans started to come off.

Poop in the tub, where I set him to finish the undressing.

Poop on the toilet, of course, when he needed to finish the job.

Poop on my jeans, because I was holding him when I pulled his jeans off.

Poop on the stairs, where all of this started.

And now, poop on his brother's sock, because (of course) Obi-1 was headed upstairs.

Did I scream? A little - in agony and exasperation. I mean, seriously, we were all wearing poop!

Did I cry? I didn't have time. I needed clear vision to find the mess.

Did I clean... oh, you betcha! I've been sanitizing the bathroom floor, the stairs, the playroom carpet, the laundry chute, Obi-2, Obi-1, the tub, the toilet. Oh - and not to forget, everyone got a change of socks, jeans, and shirts, and underwear. This is exactly the type of pre-9 am activity that makes me quite tired by naptime.

The only thing not cleaned right now? Laundry, and The Dishes. Those very same dishes I was trying to clean up when all of this started.

Seriously. THIS is the most rewarding job of all time?! Someday my children will "rise up and call me blessed" and I'll find great joy in these memories. Sure...

homemade ww bread

Do you want to know what's in your food? Make it from scratch!
This recipe takes about 3 hours, start-to-finish, though very little of the time is hands-on. Kneading dough is quite theraputic, too! Plus, if you have 'em, it's an activity that even young kids can enjoy.
It's hard to ruin this recipe (goodness knows I've tried) - if you forget it while you're out and it rises too much, just punch it down and let it rise again. And -oooooh!- don't ya love the smell of fresh-baked bread?

Homemade Whole Wheat Bread

4 C whole wheat flour (or, part ww flour + 1 C oat bran)
4 C white flour
1/4 C dried buttermilk
1 Tblsp salt
3 C warm water 2 Tblsp (or 2 pkg) yeast
1/3 C honey

1 Tblsp oil

Combine water, yeast & honey to let yeast start dissolving.

Combine dry ingredients. Add the buttermilk and oil.
Mix wet + dry together for about 5-10 minutes with a dough hook on a mixer, or 8-12 minutes by hand.
Stop when a very soft & pliable dough forms.
Cover & let rise to double - about 1+ hour.
Deflate, cover & let rise to double - about 30-45 minutes.
Deflate, split into 2 large, greased loaf pans.
Cover and let rise (about 15-30 minutes) while preheating oven to 350-degrees.
Bake about 30 minutes, until it sounds “hollow” when tapped. yum.

make a vegetarian happy

What's that? You have vegetarians in your house?
Whether vegetarian for dinner or forever, this is a meal that will bring everyone together. Bonus: it's nearly prep-free cooking. :)

Herbed Lentils-n-Rice

6 C vegetable broth (or, if vegetarian isn't an issue, use chicken broth!)
1 1/2 C lentils (any kind will work, we like the little black ones. Hmm, what was their name?)
1 medium onion
1 C brown rice
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp dried marjoram
1 tsp dried basil

1 C shredded mozzarella or cheddar cheese, for topping. *optional*

Combine everything. Cook in the oven at 350 degrees F for 1 1/2 - 2 hours, or in a crock-pot on low for 3-4 hours (or crock-pot on high for 1 1/2 hours).

Add a salad or crisp veggies & fruit on the side, and viola! Dinner is served.

pancakes

Why save pancakes for a special occasion, when they're so darn good?! We do this recipe at least once or twice a week... sometimes several days. I figure, eat a good breakfast, and the rest of the day is a lot less hungry!

Sift together:
1 C whole wheat flour
1 C unbleached white flour
**(or use 2 C of either, but use less liquid if using all white flour!)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda

Combine in a bowl:
3 Tblsp unsalted butter, melted
1 large egg
2 C buttermilk (adjust if you like your pancakes thinner - this recipe makes thick, fluffy cakes!)

Combine dry + wet ingredients together, leaving a few lumps.
Heat a skillet to med-high. If not using non-stick, brush the pan with a bit of oil or butter.
Add batter 1/4 Cup at a time.
** (sprinkle berries on top of batter)
Wait until bubbles appear on top and sides look cooked before flipping (about 3 minutes).
Cook on the other side.
Enjoy!

The Obis like to have their syrup (or honey) on the side, for dippin'. I agree, since that means a lot easier portion control on the sweet stuff!

potato soup

Plan on feeding a crowd... this will make plenty. A bag of potatoes can go such a long way - as any good Irish girl would know! Use them as sides, or bake and add some shredded cheese, beans, sour cream, brocolli, etc. and host your own potato bar!

Potato Soup

8 potatoes, peeled and cut into about 1/2-inch cubes.
6 C chicken stock + water as needed (or all water)
2-3 carrots, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cans condensed milk (or, I use 2 C whole milk instead)
2 T unsalted butter
1/2 Tblsp sea salt (more/less to taste)
fresh ground pepper to taste
** 1 C cheddar cheese, shredded, for topping (optional)

Place veggies in a large stockpot.
Just barely cover the veggies with stock + water. Add salt, and bring to boil.
Reduce heat and cook until potatoes are soft (not mushy) - you can poke them with a fork.
Add milk and butter, and heat through.
If you like it "chowder-y" and thick, use a potato masher to smash a bit of the veggies. Otherwise, enjoy the soup, topped with a sprinkle of cheese! :)

chicken salad

This really can't get much easier, and it really doesn't need a ton of chicken - often I can get enough from a leftover baked chicken, even if we ate most of it!

Chicken Salad with Apples and Raisins

1 1/2 C cooked chicken
1 medium apple, finely chopped
2 stalks celery, finely chopped
1 small onion, chopped
1/2 C mayonaise or plain yogurt (adjust to taste/texture you want)
1/2 C golden raisins (try dried cranberries)
1/2 tsp sea salt
pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Serve on pitas, make a sandwich with a slice of cheese and whole wheat bread, or dip into it with crackers.

losing your socks and other measures of hospitality

Come over! Come in!

We love having friends in our home. We're not up too early, but come in the morning and get a latte with breakfast. Or, stop by mid-day and have lunch. If you knock on my door mid-afternoon, you'll probably be offered another latte, or tea, and maybe we can sit on the front porch while the kids ride their bikes. Oooh - we can have cookies! Come in the evening and I might even open a bottle of wine while you join us for dinner.

Yes, I'm learning to cook, and I like it.

Come anytime, and we'll be happy to see you and you can stay as long as you want. But please be forwarned: You'll lose your socks.

Yes, I'm afraid my house is The Place of the Missing Socks.

Perhaps it is the by-product of being a "shoeless" household. Oh - no, we have shoes. Do we have shoes! I grew up thinking Nordies was a good reason to drive a young family 8 hours each way to the "big city." Yes, we have shoes.

We're shoeless as in, we don't wear our shoes in the house.

And yet somehow, that translates to little socks (and big ones) being misplaced or left in all sorts of odd places. Particularly, under the kitchen table, in the bathroom, and definitely in the playroom amongst the stuffed animals and story rug. Often, it's only one sock, which makes me wonder why I don't see more people around here in a single foot-covering. It is not just my family - when we have guests, I frequently find their little socks hanging out with ours.

I've heard that the truest sign of hospitality is how much a guest feels at home. Hmmm....

So come over! Take off your socks! Stay a while!